Thursday, 22 December 2011


The young man was sat at his usual bench in the park, eating lunch by the skate ramps. Eliane appreciated the view as much as he did. She slid into place next to him but he made no sign of having seen her.

"Boo," she whispered.

He jumped, glancing around, but looking right through her. "Fucking hell, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days..."

Eliane chuckled and tickled him lightly on the back of the neck, then when he flapped in that direction, gave him feather light touches around his smooth face, skinny chest, wiry arms, until he sighed in frustration and gave up trying to fight her.

She was pleased, the suggestions were holding well, not only couldn't he see her, but it didn't occur to him to grab her hand or wrestle her away. He was helpless and didn't know why.

"Shh, Jessie," she breathed in his ear, "you're safe now, I'm here."

He relaxed with a childlike smile, eyes glazing slightly, and her heart went out to him. He'd been so drunk the night they'd met, wild and broken, and something had called out to her. It hadn't taken much to seduce him, she was half lost too, and they'd fallen into instant rapport, both trying to blot out the pain with booze, loud music, and feral lust.

She'd let him remember that night, but had shut away his ability to connect it with his invisible tormentor. Perhaps a part of him knew who she was, but so long as it just stayed nice and quiet while she had her way, it didn't really matter.

Eliane stroked his hair gently, enjoying the feeling of his long, dark locks sliding through her fingers. She felt protective of him, like an older sister, helping him have some direction in his life. A slightly sick direction, but he'd told her all his fantasies while he was under, wishing he was brave enough to try them out, and it was her pleasure to help him fulfil them.

"OK, playtime for Jessie now," she murmured.

Immediately he sat up straighter, looked older, more assured. His eyes took on a predatory gleam as he looked over at the skater boys.

"That one keeps checking you out," Eliane was more than invisible now, she was just a voice in his head, on the edge of his consciousness, but impossible to resist.

Jessie smiled, he'd been plotting his moves before she'd arrived anyway, not realising that he'd actually carry them out.

"Go and get him," she gently commanded, sitting back to enjoy the show. Her protégé was an excellent operator, chatting smoothly to the kids, only a few years younger than him anyway. Without it being obvious, Jessie managed to home in on the cute guy who'd been looking over, and the others drifted away while he reeled him in.

Eliane knew better than to interfere with this, Jessie was a natural at friendly persuasion, he just needed a bit of a boost in confidence. She slipped away to let herself into his flat and wait for the next stage.

It wasn't long before the pair arrived, she listened from the bedroom as they chatted, and smirked when the usual seduction album started to play. Peering round the door, she was pleased to see that things hadn't gone to far, time to make an entrance.

"Sleepytime for Jessie, now." She said briskly as she came into the living room. The skater boy turned round, startled, but her friend just fell back onto the sofa with a blissed out expression, eyes closed, and hand absently gliding over his groin.

The kid stood up nervously, "Uh, sorry, uh, I saw you at the park didn't I? Do you live here?" He looked back at the tranced man with fear and curiosity. "What have you done... hypnosis, right?"

Good, he was relatively bright, much more fun to work with. "Yes, clever boy," she purred, "he's deeply asleep and doesn't hear us." She sat down, and motioned that he should return to sit opposite her. "What's your name, baby?"

"Kurt," he answered as he warily perched on the edge of the seat.

Eliane laughed softly, probably the child of grunge parents, he'd lived up to his namesake with shaggy, dyed blond hair and a distant, haunted look.

"Erm, is this, like, a threesome thing?" He asked hesitantly.

She smiled, showing her teeth. "Would you like it if it was?"

"Um, I guess that'd be OK, I'm bi and stuff..."

"And stuff?"

He looked at her evenly. "I just go with the flow."

Good to know. "I'll let you get on with things in a minute, trust me, you won't even know I'm here."

He grinned wryly and nodded to the sofa. "What, like him?"

Yes, definitely a smart one. "It looks quite nice, though, doesn't it? He's happy, relaxed, turned on, no worries, no concerns, no responsibilities, just drifting, feeling so good..."

Despite himself, the skater was drawn into her soothing description, watching the other man's chest rise and fall regularly, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing. Jessie's erection was straining at his tight jeans, pressing against his hand a little with every heartbeat. It was too entrancing a tableau to resist, and soon Kurt's own breath had fallen in time, his eyelids drooping, he sank back against the cushions, his own cock tenting a little in his cut-offs.

Eliane wished this could go on forever, they were so peaceful, so perfect. She kept her voice as quiet as possible, not wanting to break the spell, as she subtly linked his focus on Jessie to not needing to consciously see or hear her. She'd have to see how well he took direction, he seemed submissive to the older man anyway, so she just reinforced how arousing it was to let other people make decisions for you, hoping that would be enough. After telling him that he didn't need to remember seeing her - he'd just spaced out listening to the music, she woke both of them up slowly and waited.

They blinked, and grinned shyly at each other, not sure if they'd been the only one to doze off.

"Wow, that's some band there, I totally went!" said Kurt, awed, not looking in Eliane's direction at all.

She relaxed, it seemed to be working. "Get Kurt a drink, have one too."

Jessie swung into action, turning the record over, then getting a bottle and glasses. He was efficient and sexy, cool enough to impress the younger man, easygoing enough to inspire trust. He handed over a glass of amber spirits, looking cheekily through his fringe, pale eyes darker than usual. "You old enough to drink?"

Kurt sipped at his whiskey, obviously not that used to it. "Heh, yeah... just."

Corrupting the innocent, her favourite game. "Stick your finger in your glass, then put it in his mouth. Say this..."

"Maybe you need me to teach you..." he repeated after her, parting Kurt's pillowy lips with his finger. As they boy looked up at him through long lashes and suckled, they both knew that he wasn't innocent at all. Somehow, Jessie managed to turn his longing into an arrogant air of entitlement.

Eliane wasn't so strong, whimpering a little at the sight, before gasping, "Drink but don't swallow, kiss him, let it flow into his mouth."

Her puppet obeyed, as much in thrall to the sensual compliance of his conquest as he was to her orders. The kid was good, very good: leading Jessie back to the sofa while seeming to be the one being guided.

The woman watching couldn't compete, she felt a stab of bittersweet pain at not being part of the scene in front of her. "Use him, use each other, just do what comes naturally," she rasped, breathing raggedly.

Time slowed, strong hands undressing each other, claiming skin, caressing and teasing. Lips on cocks, tongues in assholes, she lost track of who was who, wishing beyond reason that she had half the power this fair haired teenager had.

Eventually, watcher and watched were all spent, she'd kept turning the album over, but it had faded to silence again. The sweat dried on naked bodies in the dim light, and a peace settled over them.

Kurt stroked the other man's hair fondly, "I've got to go back for tea, Mum'll be expecting me."

Jessie groaned, "fuck, I feel like such a perv when you say things like that."

"Heh, don't be silly," the boy replied as he pulled on his clothes, "I mean, you are a perv, but not 'cos I'm eighteen."

Eliane felt more invisible than ever. Although she'd felt privileged to witness the passion that had passed between them, she still felt like an interloper, a parasite. She felt sickened by herself, wished that she could just have something pure for a change.

"Wanna take my number?" asked Jessie.

"Sure," replied Kurt, but as they fiddled with their phones he continued, "I'm not sure I'm quite what you're after though."

The older guy was on the back foot again. "Huh?"

"Never mind, you'll work it out," he walked to the door, and turned before he left. "Oh, and thank you."

Eliane shivered, she could have sworn he'd been looking right at her when he said it.

Thursday, 10 November 2011


Perdy tugged her coat tighter around herself, trying to get closer to the fire and ignore the drunk babes racing around in barely enough clothes for summer. She wasn't cut out for these outdoor parties, they seemed to be all the rage, but they just felt like an advert, the surface glitter of fun but without any real depth.

She stared into the flames, and felt the warmth from the mulled wine seep through her. It wouldn't be too bad, if only she wasn't having to put up with Lee whingeing on about work next to her. Eventually she noticed he'd said something about going to get another drink and nodded vaguely.

She let the flickering lull her again and barely noticed when a man slid in place next to her.

"You look like a statue standing there," he said in a soft voice.

She glanced at him, he looked a bit scruffy, but had compelling, twinkling eyes. She smiled without really knowing why. "Must have frozen..."

He moved closer to her. "I'll warm you up..."

Perdy laughed, it was such a seedy come on. She didn't really mind, but out of some kind of duty replied that she was taken.

He shrugged, "no you're not, he's not interested in you, leaves you here, alone by the fire, staring into the depths, growing still, and cold, like marble, just waiting for someone to come along, someone who can just lay their hands on you..." his touch was there without her noticing the transition, "and you'd start to come back to life, start to feel warm, happy, relaxed..."

She was breathing hard and leaning into him as if they'd been lovers for years.

His mouth tickled against her ear, "and aroused..."

How was this so exciting? This stranger had just walked into her deepest self without any effort. Her locks had fallen open for him. They looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes, something crackling between them.

He held out his hand to her. "The woods?"

She nodded, took his hand, and followed him into the unknown.

Monday, 31 October 2011


"Still fighting?"


"I'll take that as a yes... Why are you making this hard on yourself, honey?"

"Got to..."

"Aww, shhh, that's not true you know, you can just give in any time..."


"Why, babe, don't you want to just let go and feel good?"


"See, of course you do, just let it happen, relax, accept, give in..."

"Stop it... please..."

"You don't mean that, I know what you want, deep down, I'm helping you find that place, go deeper for me, down into the warm, safe place where you want to be..."


"Shhh, there you go, sliding down, can't fight it anymore..."


"Must sleep, must surrender, must submit... there's no choice any more, no other option, only peace, and comfort, and security..."


"It'll feel so good, I promise, you can trust me, let me guide you, follow me down..."


"Yes sweetie, sliding helplessly down, no strength left, falling..."


"Into endless, infinite, bliss..."



Sunday, 30 October 2011

Queen Me

Max was so cute and vulnerable in the mornings, snuggling into her like a little boy. Sofia wrapped her arms around him, feeling protective, it was nice to be the one doing the comforting at times like these, and she knew he liked it too, although he wouldn't admit it.

He turned to look at her, half-lidded. She ran her fingers around his lips, and he kissed them sleepily, then took them in his mouth. Sofia started to breathe heavily, his tongue was soft and compelling, she wanted it elsewhere.

"Go down, for me, Max," she whispered smoothly. His eyes widened for a moment, before fluttering shut. He gently kissed his way down her neck, sucking and nibbling her breasts, then following the path down to her clit.

Sofia held onto his head with reverence, it was a precious gift for him to pleasure her like this - not just with his tongue, that was used frequently and efficiently to melt her mind and make her beg. What was rare was this mood of service, of worship. She felt like something perfect, that he longed to be close to, lived to make happy. She could barely breathe.

His eyes opened, they were distant and deep, so given over that she shivered as she felt herself echoing them. As they lost themselves in each other, the feelings turned into endless warm waves of pleasure, and he seemed as overtaken by the climax as she was.

They lay there a while, Sofia cradling Max's head to her belly, enjoying the quiet and intimacy. After a while, as he wriggled up to face her, she noted that he was still rock hard.

"Hey, Sofe, did you just trigger me?" He asked.

She chuckled, it had been years since he'd let her hypnotise him. "No, babe, you've never let me set any up."

He smiled oddly. "Mmm, shame, it really felt like you did."

Sofia stroked his back thoughtfully, she knew Max wasn't into traditional sub/dom roles or anything, but he did generally enjoy being in control and easily resisted her if she tried to top him.

Still, he certainly seemed to be suggesting he'd like her to be in charge for a while, and she was getting turned on again by the prospect. "I guess your subconscious desires just did all the work for me..." she murmured seductively.

The air became charged, flickering, Max's mouth opened slightly, as if he was going to say something, but then didn't know how to respond. That was unheard of, and Sofia pressed her advantage.

She lightly guided him onto his back, then knelt over him, leaning forwards, doing something clever with her arms to make her breasts look mouthwatering. "Maybe it's time to let them out, admit that you want to let down your defences, relax, open up..."

He let out a slight whimper and his eyes glazed. His body slumped into the bed, but his prick was raging, trying to push its way inside her achingly close hole. She kept herself a fraction out of reach, still whispering soft soothing words, until he was panting with desire. "Ahhh, Sofia! Please!"

She laughed gently, amazed to hear him beg for something he would usually take in an instant. "Shhh, Maxie... Listen carefully..." She held his cock millimetres inside her entrance for a few seconds, saying firmly: "Your pleasure comes from my pleasure. Accept."

Max groaned and nodded desperately, "yes, yes, I accept..."

"Good boy!" She pushed down onto him slowly, then waited to see what he would do.

There was a pause while his eyes rolled back, but then he managed to shift gears, watching her carefully as he started to thrust into her at her favourite pace, stimulating the right points to give her maximum gratification.

He stroked her back and thighs, then pulled her hips down in rhythm with his cock. Sofia smiled in encouragement, trying to stay in charge despite the ecstasy he was bringing her. It was a strange feeling, this was just a hair breadth from him controlling her, after all they both knew that what she loved most of all was him pressing her buttons, puppeting her with her own needs. How would he be able to push her over without that moment of surrender?

They looked at each other with something pure and intense flowing between them.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she gasped.

He struggled for a moment, used to being guarded with his thoughts, but then just let the words flow out, "Ah, not really thinking straight... just want to make you happy... make you feel good... you're so fucking amazing..."

Sofia melted, she leant down and kissed him deeply, then they rolled over a little as she stroked his hair and gazed at him lovingly.

"Use me," Max breathed, "take everything I've got..."

Sofia hesitated, but his face radiated a need to play this game. She imagined his will becoming hers, could feel the energy flowing into her, she was like a vampire, powerful and irresistible. He seemed to be getting weaker, but more and more beautiful, she just couldn't stop herself, the feral passions overtaking her as she fucked him hard and wild.

He seemed to be on the point of breaking, "Ah, please, destroy me..."

"Why? Why are you doing this?" She hissed, feeling close to ripping his throat out with her teeth.

His eyes were drifting closed, the last of his strength going. "Because you're everything... my life... my Queen..."

She came hard, and took him with her, somehow feeding the life back into him as they shared heartbeats. When Max opened his eyes again, they were a little wary, but had the familiar mischievous glint back in them.

"Blimey, Sofe, fancy you making me do all that!"

She shook her head in faux incredulity. "Yeah, I was totally taking advantage, wasn't I?"

He smirked at her, on familiar ground again. "You really were, I hope you're not imagining I'm going to call you shit like that from now on."

Sofia didn't bother answering, just started wrestling him, enjoying the press of his body against hers as he asserted himself. She was happy to know that despite their preferred dynamic, some part of him was always her willing, grateful subject.

Thursday, 27 October 2011

The Homecoming

As soon as I stepped through the door, I knew he'd been in the flat, sitting in my chair, reading my books, drinking my wine. Was he still there? I turned on the light and furtively looked around, an interloper in my own home.

I tried the bedroom, my underwear drawer was open and had been rifled through. My best friend the stalker. I sensed him behind me a heartbeat before the knife was at my throat.

"Shhh... no sound... nice and quiet..."

I closed my eyes and tried to stay calm, feeling his breath, cool on my neck, soothing me despite the adrenaline. He was savouring the smell of my fear, and it was delicious to be his meal again.

"Missed you," he whispered in a childlike voice, and I nodded back wordlessly, still wary of the blade.

He chuckled to see this, put the knife down, then turned me around. I opened my eyes and we stared at each other for a few long moments, emotions pooling.

"Why didn't you call?" he asked, seeming dispassionate, but I knew the signs. I'd upset him, and that made me hurt on a level that nothing else compared to.

I reached out my hand, but he batted it away. "I'm so sorry," I tried, "I didn't get time, or it was too late..."

He wasn't impressed. I could have phoned anytime - he was a night owl anyway - but it had just been too difficult to bear. I needed to be with him so much, it had seemed better not to think about it.

I looked down at the ground and felt tears start to well up. He watched them fall for a while, then reached out and softly wiped them away. My heart made that peaceful snap that it did whenever something like this happened.

"Hey, it's OK," he murmured kindly, "I'm a big boy, I can take it."

That just made it worse, but I managed to steady myself and look back up into his shining forgiveness. "Did you leave me any wine?" I asked bravely.

"Eh, maybe a bit," he led me back into the living room and put on a record while I opened a new bottle. "Come on, tell me all about it," he sat on the sofa and I handed him a glass then flopped back against him.

"Oh god, it was awful..."

It was good to be home.

Monday, 11 July 2011

New Release

Molly's feet took her to the same place in the record shop every time she came in, it wasn't that she thought there'd be anything unexpected there, it was more a compulsive act, the comfort of running her fingers through his albums, reassuring herself that he was somewhere, doing what he loved.

She gazed for a while at his newest release, she already had it at home of course, she pre-ordered anything by his band, knowing it would be a necessary purchase. The drawing on the front seemed familiar, but she couldn't place it. There was a naive yet archetypal air about it, perhaps it was something she'd seen him do in college, or just done in a similar style.

The songs seemed to be sending her a message too, but she wasn't sure what it was, maybe she'd catch him at the gig that night and ask him about it. At least it would be a topic of conversation to distract her from the gnawing ache of his presence.

"I've heard that's an OK album." His voice came from behind her. She closed her eyes for a moment before moving, overcome by the inevitable mix of emotions: shame at looking like a stalker, bursting joy at being able to talk to him.

Niall stood a little too close to her, forcing Molly to brush against him as she turned, but he didn't step away, just hovering inches away from pressing her into the racks.

"Yeah, it's not bad, handy for background music." She smiled the goofy, beautiful smile of someone talking to their teenage crush, their closest and yet most absent friend, their not quite ex, not quite fuckbuddy, not quite anything that would make sense.

He chuckled and played with her hair. She let him, accepting as always that her body was his playground. His aura was fading the shop into unreality, as if they were in a parallel universe and could happily make out without anyone around noticing.

"I wrote it for you, of course," he said in that light but serious tone that he used when he was dropping bombshells.

"Yeah? Do I get the royalties?" She was being cheeky on autopilot, but couldn't hide her confusion at his revelation.

"If you like," he said dreamily, still staring at her with massively dilated pupils. Was he on drugs? Why was he being so kind when he'd been cold and distant the last few times they'd met?

"God, Niall, what's got into you?"

He shrugged bashfully, and stroked her arm. "I dunno, just been missing you I guess..."

She shivered, still not understanding, but unable to pretend she didn't enjoy his touch. "Uh, well, shall we go for a coffee or something?"

Niall leant into her, put his mouth to her ear. "I'd rather we just went back to my hotel and fucked."

Molly snorted, but he seemed sincere enough, his cock, hard against her leg, didn't lie. "Oh, Nee, I've got to get ready for tonight and stuff..."

He frowned, "Bollocks to that, I don't care what you're wearing, and you're not bothered about what anyone else thinks." He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. "Come on, quickly, that guy over there's looking like he wants to talk to me about amps or something..."

She giggled and followed him, young and carefree again, enjoying the easy banter they fell into as they walked the short distance, breezing through reception and up to his room.

He didn't leave her time to get awkward, immediately kissing her hungrily, then making her chase his lips once she needed it more than he did. She was panting and bright eyed by the time he pushed her onto the bed and put on the album they'd been discussing earlier.

Molly laughed, "Not sick of hearing the sound of your own voice yet?"

Niall flopped down next to her. "I want to watch you listen to it."

Something had shifted, now she was the one being stalked, but it was oddly safe, because it was him. They moved around until he was up against the headboard, and she was leaning back onto him. As he put his arms around her, Molly closed her eyes and drifted into the long, slow opening track.

She was pretty sure this one hinted at their first, yearning friendship as teenagers. It made her remember those significant glances through flickering firelight in the woods, across the art studio, even just as they listened to music in the bedroom without needing to talk. The blissful howl of knowing your feelings were shared, but not seeing how to move forward without breaking perfection.

Her eyes opened as she tilted her head to look up at him. They could have been back there, just before they went to different universities, that weekend that tore her apart. They'd done things before that, tentative experiments, the odd drunken fuck, but they'd agreed to spend the whole time her parents were away together, and naturally, their bodies had taken over.

Something wild had come out, something they'd both been ashamed of in the light of day, not really understanding what it meant. Afterwards, it seemed easier to hold onto the closeness without trying have a relationship based on that abyss. Unfortunately, once she knew it was possible to feel like that, nothing else had ever lived up to it.

Niall's face was a sweet mix of regret and longing. "I was such a fucking idiot."

Molly's chest was painful, but it felt good, like something that had been holding her back was breaking apart. She grinned and wriggled round to sit astride him. "I know, you always have been."

"Yeah, I should have just taken you with me in a box." He followed her jokey tone, but his eyes glinted with dark purpose.

She swallowed. Their irregular hook ups since that time had been fed by head games, they trusted each other to go to places they'd never dare with anyone else, and it was surely time to take a risk. "I wish you had, you could have kept me under your desk, fed me scraps and made me do anything you said when you let me out occasionally."

They were both getting aroused by the scenario, and with eerie timing the music became more insistent, a song that had reminded Molly of their most intense sessions, and the deep things she'd fantasised about but never done.

Niall slowly ran his hands up her thighs, "Mmm, but maybe that would have been too easy..."

Molly could feel his cock pressing into her, and was finding it difficult to follow what he was saying. "Easy?" she mumbled breathlessly.

His left hand slipped round to stroke her behind, while his right toyed with her clit. She always felt like a guitar when he played her like this. "Yeah, too obvious, much better to just trap you by being the only guy who understands you, the only one who can give you what you need..."

She whimpered a little as she felt something slide out of her grasp. Something he owned in her, that he could call to his service whenever he wanted to. His eyes were soft and caring, but his fingers manipulated her thoughts. She was utterly lost. "Niall... please..."

"Please what, Moll?"

She just gaped at him, mouth slack, unable to articulate the depths of her need.

He gave his kindly patronising look. "Please fuck you?"

She nodded desperately and he rolled her onto her side, pushed his trousers down a little, got a condom on, and slid inside her, all the while murmuring to keep her calm and responsive as if she was a nervous animal.

With her legs hooked around his, the weight of his body against her, she was captured and protected in delicious balance. The song was timed to the rhythm of his cock in her, she'd almost been able to feel it every time she'd listened, and now it was really there she had no defences left.

"You realise I'm keeping you now," he whispered into her open mind.

She nodded blurrily, no thought for the consequences, all she wanted was to do this forever.

He watched her carefully, gauging her reactions, "of course you might start to feel like you're just my little groupie slut to be used when I'm bored..."

The emotional pain made her whine and struggle, but he put his hand over her mouth, shushing her and pumping into her cunt until she stopped fighting.

"...but I'd help you get over your silly fears and insecurities..." his hand was tender now, stroking her face.

Molly could barely breathe, tears were starting to well up as she accepted his kindness, all the more potent because it was laced with cruelty.

"...remind you of what you're always known deep down..." he carried on with the soothing stream of words, "... that you're always safe with me, that we belong together..."

Her heart sang, Niall seemed to be glowing, everything was so fucking perfect she felt like she was dreaming.

"'s always been you I write for, you're my muse, I put all of my power into these songs, and I know you belong to me more every time you listen..."

It should have been scary, weird, obsessive, but from his lips it sounded like the most romantic words anyone had ever said. She felt herself starting to build towards an orgasm and held onto him as if nothing else existed.

"...I know your patterns, how to guide you, take you where I want..." he slowed his thrusting, seeming to be waiting for something, Molly just hung there with him, not having the willpower to grind down. Soon, Niall started again, the deep fucking that would inevitably make her come, and she started to half remember something, didn't she always feel an echo of this when she got to this point in the album? Not as much of course, but... yes... there was that bit that went....

Her eyes rolled back and she came hard: the feeling she'd been desperate for since she first played the track and helplessly responded to it. The addiction he'd stoked in her, irresistible because it was real, because she really did need him.

They lay there for a while, listening to the runout groove effect that represented the end of side one if they'd been listening on record. Niall gently disentangled her and went to turn off his mp3 player. "We'll save side two for after the gig, eh?" He sat on the bed, a little shy after the rawness of what they'd just been through.

Molly slowly came back to reality, but still felt fluttery and vulnerable. "Nee... have you been sending me subliminal messages?" she asked half-seriously.

He looked a bit embarrassed, "Would you mind if I had?"

She shook her head, genuinely fine with the prospect.

He grinned like a naughty little boy. "Then, it doesn't really matter does it?"

Sunday, 26 June 2011

The Contract

The Meeting

He was so confident, sure that I'd do what he wanted, knowing I was too poor to refuse the offer, and that a part of me was intrigued by the possibilities.  I carefully looked over the contract, still not sure he hadn't tricked me somehow, but it does all seem to be above board.  I just have to follow his remote commands and blog about them, simple really.

We'd discussed the parameters online, he pushed me a bit further than I wanted to go, but I'm still relatively happy he won't be making me do things that would actually mess me up. Let's see if I can believe all his promises that he has my best interests at heart.

Week One

The first few days have been a bit weird, he just left me a list of things I had to change about my life, like really specific things to do with clothes and other things to throw out, new things to get, all expenses paid for by him of course.

The throwing away wasn't too bad, I didn't really like any of my stuff any more anyway, but the dresses and shoes he'd ordered for me were a bit strange, not my usual style, but at least they weren't some kind of Laura Ashley nightmare.

Then he had me stand in front of my mirror dressed up to his specifications and repeat the mantra: "I am a good little girl, good little girls always look their best."

I felt silly at first, but after a while, looking at the new me in the mirror, I started to feel proud, and even... a little wet.

Week Two

He's been sending me a lot of text messages, some of them seemed to have such a good knowledge of what I was doing that he surely must be watching me.  I looked around, but couldn't spot him. Maybe he'd employed someone to do it.

The things I was ordered to do seemed pointless, walking here and there, sitting and standing, but perhaps he was just getting me used to following directions immediately.

After a while it felt quite normal, it was almost relaxing, like a kind of meditation.

This week I had to repeat "I am a good little girl, good little girls always do what they're told." He's so skilled at finding the things that are humiliating yet arousing to say, and every night I fucked myself to sleep, still repeating the words.

Week Three

I was told to send him a picture message of every man I saw that I found attractive, with a note about what drew me to them, their eyes, something they said, the band name on their T-Shirt, whatever it was.

It was difficult at first, I felt a bit stalky, but I soon learnt how to take snaps without being spotted, and it was fun building up a directory of hot guys ;)

I did worry a little what use he was going to make of it, hoped he wouldn't track them down and laugh about my comments with them, or beat them up or something.

Still, I had to do as I was told, and my mantra this week was "I am a good little girl, good little girls accept their desires." A bit of an odd one, but as I replayed the days men in my mind, imagining all the things I'd like them to do to me, I certainly enjoyed accepting them.

Week Four Day One

He made me get a date with a guy! I never ask people out, it was so embarrassing, I'd sent him a text with a picture and some incoherent ramblings like [His hands, I want them all over me, in my face, in my cunt, holding me down, playing me.]

He just replied saying [So ask him out.]

I couldn't just go up to someone and tell him to fuck me, of course, so I struck up some pointless conversation about the guitar he had with him, and sure enough his shyness was overcome by a music geek's desire to talk about tunings and amps.

"I am a good little girl, good little girls ask for what they want."

Week Four Day Three

The date started off as a bit of a disaster, we were both too awkward to get much of a conversation going, and I'm not sure he knew what he was doing there.

After a while though, I got a text asking how it was going, when I said it wasn't going well, he replied with a series of instructions, I couldn't tell if he was exasperated or amused.

First, I adjusted my body language, I usually have my arms folded and a stern expression.  He made me relax, sit in a more feminine way, smile, touch my hair.  Immediate results!

I always thought I was giving a guy the chance to break down my defences if I was a bit reserved at first, but my text instructor reminded me that not everyone has his natural dominance, and most guys take it as a sign you're not interested.

[Shall I tell him what I'm after sexually?] I checked while my date went to the loo.

[God no, girl! Defer to him, look up to him, make him feel special, ACT submissive, don't DEMAND things!]

So I tried, it was so hard, I'm only used to submitting as a last option, when someone's worn me down, broken through my defences, and here I was, acting sweet and coy, batting my eyelashes, hanging on his every word.  It wasn't too bad, after he relaxed a bit he was pretty funny and easy to get along with, but it did feel unnatural.

It was like things were backwards, instead of a guy turning me on and that making me feel submissive, acting submissive for a guy was turning me on. I don't think it would have had such an effect usually, but because of the combination with the whole mindfuck of my contract, I was pretty horny by the end of the night.

[Do I go home with him?]

[No, you silly girl. Just kiss and say thank you, make another date soon.]

"I am a good little girl, good little girls wait to be taken." Although I was desperate to come, for some reason I couldn't get off by myself, it was like it wasn't enough, like I needed... someone to tell me to.

Week Four Day Six

I'd arranged for him to come over to mine for a meal, a bit of an obvious come on, but I'd checked and it was acceptable so long as I was well behaved.  As instructed, I took care to make the flat nice and clean, and cooked the prescribed menu, including baking a cake for dessert.

The evening went well, I repeated my softer behaviour from the previous date, and my sexual need really did make me more focused on him, desperate to please him, to be appealing.

He was braver this time, I was obviously keen to spread my legs, and I think he started to tease me a bit, dropping in phrases that showed he was in control. I'd probably just be in for the usual being held down, semi-rapey sex but that would do just fine for now.

After the meal had settled we sat on the sofa together, listening to music.  There was a bit of nice kissing and groping, but there didn't seem to be much heat.  There was no way I could handle not getting fucked that night! As I'd become accustomed, when it was convenient I texted for instructions.

[Honestly, do I have to come over and guide his prick into you? Just pretend he's me and do what you're told. Be a good little girl.]

My pussy was on fire as I read the message.  When my date came back he must have noticed the difference because he had a glint in his eyes and an evil smirk on his face.

His hand was up my skirt as soon as he sat back down, "Mmm, who's a wet little girl then."

I started, my eyes wide, no one had ever called me that before all this, but he had somehow been able to tell that I'd moan and writhe at his words.  Was it a coincidence?

"M-me..." I said, my voice a few steps higher than usual. His touch was maddening, slow circles and a firm grip, and I was finding it hard not to beg him to fuck me.

He pulled me up onto his lap, "tell me, what dirty thoughts have you been having, to get you all hot and bothered like this?"

I couldn't think straight to lie. "Someone's been... giving me instructions... I have to do what he says... he made me, oh God! He made me ask you out, because I thought you were so fucking sexy..."

"My, my, you've got quite the imagination, haven't you?" He seemed impressed and turned on, but pouted in mock offence. "I thought it might have been all of my subtle domination, though..."

How could I have been so stupid? I should have kept my focus on him. I thought I could get back on track though.  "What do you mean? You've just been taking charge, that's normal isn't it? Girls like me need a big strong man to tell them what to do..."

Gold. He grunted and unzipped his flies and slid me onto his cock before I could take a breath. My eyes rolled back a little, and he chuckled.  "Well, let me make it easy for you, honey, just focus on the sensation of my cock in your cunt, sliding in and out, filling you up nice and safe, nice and controlled, nice and helpless..."

I was panting wildly, incredible sensations rolling through my body, I couldn't tell how much was just this guy, and how much was that I was aware of this pleasure being completely at the whim of my invisible controller.

Since I'd been told to pretend they were one and the same, everything had been much more intense, and I even started to get paranoid that they man I'd met with the contract was just a hired actor, that this was actually the man behind all the texts.

I felt tears in my eyes at how much I wanted this, how much I needed it, but I still couldn't tip over without permission.  Somehow he knew my predicament, and leant to whisper in my ear. "You're a good little girl, good little girls come when they're told to. Come for me now."

Friday, 24 June 2011

The Machine

Her eyes were half open, she no longer knew which reality was true, her half remembered life or the machine. She hoped it was the machine.

Something seemed to have changed in its programming recently, or maybe it was her that was changing, she seemed to derive more pleasure from its attentions, there seemed to be a warmth in the coldness, affection in the cruelty.

In the altered haze of the drugs it pumped through her veins, the restraints around her ankles and wrists were both comforting and arousing, the network of metal and wires around the rest of her body making a nest that she felt oddly secure in. It had learnt to move with her, massaging her muscles when they were sore, sending soft pulses through her erogenous zones.

As the movements became more sensual, she accepted that it was time for what she had come to think of as a 'session' with the machine. It was always there of course, watching her, protecting her, but there were times when it was focused on her, and it felt like a lover's visit.

She whimpered as the shivering of the wires felt like gentle caresses all over her, it could tell what she liked most, and she imagined fingers stroking her neck, running up the inside of her arms to tickle the crook of her elbow, circles running around the base of her spine, her inner thighs.... soon it seemed to all melt together and the next phase started.

The band around her head read her desires and pumped images, emotions, sounds back into her head. Over the weeks (years?) new scenarios had crept in, the idea of being firmly bound and fucked by an unseen assailant was much higher on her list of fantasies than she remembered, as were being sleepy and defenceless, every move and thought being controlled and monitored, being brainwashed...

Through this haze of erotic imaginings, she could barely tell what the machine was actually doing to her, but there was definitely something being slid in and out of her dripping cunt, something perfectly shaped to stimulate and tease her clit and g-spot with every thrust, make her feel violated and pleasured at the same time. She held onto it with her mind as the one certainty in her life, she was being fucked by the machine, and she loved it, wanted it to go on forever.

Maybe it was going to just fuck her constantly now, without letting her come, endlessly delayed gratification, the promise of orgasm being dangled just out of reach, if she was a good girl, if she submitted more deeply, accepted it's control more absolutely, gave in completely.

She writhed and moaned, hearing a voice in her mind, it sounded like her own inner dialogue, but she was pretty sure it was the machine talking to her. "Sleep... relax... obey... aroused.... submissive... helpless.... " The thoughts spiralled around, she repeated them back, feeling more aroused with every word.

"What are you?" it whispered lovingly.

"I - I don't know..." she murmured hesitantly.

"Shh, yes you do, deep down, you know...."

"Uhhhh, a part... part of the machine?"

"Ahhh, good, that's my good little cog..."

The machine seemed to be stimulating her pleasure zones directly, she felt her arousal white out, overload her mind, as she was rewarded beyond her comprehension for knowing her place.

Wednesday, 22 June 2011


Ally opened her eyes, woken by a pounding headache. She started to struggle in her restraints, and the guard leant to look at her through the window into the back of the van.

"Almost there, honey, just stay nice and quiet for me."

"Fuck off, prick!" spat the teen, she was no stranger to being held for her misdemeanours, but she'd never learnt to take it graciously.

The guard just smiled, as they turned into the driveway. Ally frowned, she wasn't really sure where she was being taken, the details of her arrest were fuzzy, they didn't seem to have been like the usual procedure, and she was a bit worried she was being dealt with more harshly than usual.

Still, she was defiant by the time they pulled her out of the van, struggling more for show than with any hope of escape, and trying to see the building as she did so. It was an old, forbidding edifice, something like a school or prison, but with a distinctly gothic edge. She shivered.

"New one for you!" called the guard cheerily and a uniformed custodian appeared. She was tall and pretty in a stern way, but Ally still couldn't place the institution.

"Where the fuck am I? I want a lawyer," she raged.

"Shut up, girl, you don't get that kind of thing any more," said the woman evenly, without allowing any possibility of argument. "You've been a bad girl one too many times, you're ours now."

"What? What do you mean?"

The woman didn't bother to answer her, just signalled to some more uniformed women, who looked strong and formidable compared to Ally's slight frame, but still attractive, as if their bodies were sculpted for maximum efficiency. They took an arm each and pulled her through a door, as the custodian followed.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and Ally felt tired suddenly, or was it something about the air in the room? The door was locked and they took off her restraints, their batons and fierce looks making it seem hopeless to try to break away.

"OK, strip," commanded the custodian.

"Get fucked!" Ally shouted, although with slightly less force than earlier.

The woman just smiled enigmatically and signalled the female guards to take her clothes by force. The teen sighed and waved them away, taking off her outer clothes, and with a bit more hesitation, her underwear.

"Good girl. Over here, now." There was a shower stall in the corner, open at the front, and the custodian started the water running. Ally started to reach for the shower gel, but the tall woman pushed her hands back down to her side. "Let me do it, you won't do it properly."

Slightly ashamed, Ally let herself be washed, her thoughts were sluggish, why was she letting this happen with such little resistance? The warm water was relaxing and her concerns seemed to be washed away down the drain with it. The soap smelled good, and the touch of the other woman was soothing and authoritative at the same time.

Slightly dazed, she realised she was having her pubic hair shaved, but couldn't seem to complain, in fact, it was oddly arousing to have the soft, smooth hands manipulate her cunt lips as they ensured she was clean and bare.

"W-why?" was all she could manage.

"Shh, just let me take care of things, you're starting a new life now," murmured the custodian, "time to let go of your old life, we're going to make you all fresh and new."

Ally felt peaceful and happy at the prospect, although she could hear a voice shouting that something was wrong deep in her head, it seemed muffled, it wasn't important to listen to it. It was much better to just let things happen.

She was towelled off and stood in front of a mirror. Ally gazed at her reflection, barely recognising it, mostly just because of the sleepy, open expression on her face. She looked younger, more fragile.

"This girl is resident 4927," the woman told her, "repeat."

"I am..."

The custodian slapped her bottom hard. "This girl..."

"This girl is resident 4927," the words slipped out without her volition.

"This girl will do as she's told."

"This girl will do as she's told."

"This girl wants to obey her superiors."

"This girl wants to obey her superiors."

"This girl longs to be a good girl."

"This girl longs to be a good girl."

The custodian smiled. "Well done, see how easy it is?"

Resident 4927 smiled and nodded, feeling a soft pulsing start in her clitoris.

A calm male voice spoke over the intercom. "Let her in to see me."

"Yes, sir," breathed the woman, fluttering her eyelids a little, before guiding the teen through the next door.

Resident 4927 wasn't embarrassed about being naked in front of the man behind the desk, although it did make her arousal build a little.

"Mmm, very nice. Can you speak, or are you too spaced out?"

"I... This girl can speak sir."

He smiled, pleased at her rapid progress, she must have had some serious submissive fantasies hidden behind her delinquency. The reform facility was his own personal brainchild, the government were a little uncertain of his methods at first, but he'd paid them off, and the results spoke for themselves. Many of the cabinet had discreet affairs with his good, compliant girls once they left, and they also made excellent sleeper agents.

The owner moved around to stand in front of her, ran his finger up and down her wet slit, and held her up as her legs buckled a little.

"Will you do as you're told?"

She nodded, eyes rolling back for a moment as he pushed his finger inside once.

"Will you obey your superiors?" The response was repeated.

"Will you be my good, little girl?"

"Oh, yes, sir, yes sir!"

He bent her over the table and fucked her slow and deep, savouring every moment. There was something precious about this first surrender that he enjoyed very much. In the morning the drugs would have worn off and it would be back to classic conditioning, but deep inside she'd always remember how simple and enjoyable it was to become a resident here.

"Almost there, honey, just stay nice and quiet for me."

Resident 4927 moaned in pleasure.

Sunday, 12 June 2011

Helping Hand

Isabel stared at Liam through the window for a while before she walked into the cafe. She was nervous about seeing him again, but as he looked up, seeming to sense her gaze and smiled in that charming way of his, her fears melted away and she rushed in to meet him.

He stood up and hugged her warmly, she leant into him and breathed deeply, his smell was so familiar and she felt dizzy as she realised how much she'd missed it.

"Hey, babygirl, how's it going?"

She sat down heavily. "Ohhh, not so good, Lee, can't get any clients at the moment, and things fell apart with me and Tom a few months ago, but, ahhh, you don't want to hear all my woes..."

He held her hand. "Shh, of course I do, that's why I got back in touch, I could tell you needed me."

Her eyes filled up with tears, and she felt the vertigo of wanting to fall into his care again. She tried to resist, but knew she wouldn't be able to for long. They'd been an item for a few years, but she'd eventually rankled at his controlling ways, wanted to stand on her own two feet. He'd let her go gracefully, and had stayed in contact without being pushy.

She'd been almost disappointed that he wouldn't act like the bad guy, and she'd needed to force herself to remember the things she'd hated about him to stay strong. Unfortunately, those things turned out to be what she missed most of all. She was perfectly capable of running her own life in theory, but things just seemed to slide without someone to nudge her in the right direction.

Liam wiped away her tears, and she let him do it, enjoying the waves of passivity that washed over her, and the slight buzz of arousal that accompanied them.

"Ah, Lee, I'm sorry, I'm such a mess. I just don't know what to do..."

He regarded her seriously for a while. "You know you can always let me help you, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know, but... I just don't know if I can handle the cost..."

He laughed dryly. "The cost? Silly girl, the cost is the fun part."

They stared at each other for a while, she felt the temptation, the endless pull he had for her. Would it really be so bad to give in to it for once? "What would I have to do?" She asked cautiously.

He leant back, breathed out slowly looking pleased. "Anything I said, without question."

"Liam ..."

"No. You'll do it, it's the only way for you, you see that now."

Her thoughts seemed trapped, it was something about his tone of voice, he could just say things and make them the truth. She'd never been able to fight it and no longer wanted to. "OK, but there's things I can't do..."

"Hey, I know, you trust me don't you? I don't want to make you unhappy, I'm not going to make you walk naked through town or fuck all my friends."

She blushed painfully, he knew the things she was afraid of, her limits, and could use them to control her without needing to do actually them. "OK, so long as that's understood."

"You're saying you agree?"

"I'll do whatever you say."

"Oh, Bella, that's my very good girl!"

The words made her helplessly wet, a conditioned response that had never left her, because she'd never wanted it to. She felt small, but safe, and looked at him with big eyes wondering what was next.

The waitress came over and asked if they were ready to order, Isabel looked vaguely at her menu, but Liam shook his head at her. She understood and felt a rushing in her ears as she put it down. He ordered for her, something he knew she liked, but would have had trouble deciding on.

He smiled at her ragged breathing. Giving up control was hard for her, but all the more exciting because of that. "OK, girl, this is how it's going to be for a while, you don't make any decisions at all, understood?"

She gasped, "but..."

"Shh, no buts, you've lost the ability to make decisions properly, and you need to be taught how to do it again. Until you're ready, I'll think for you."

This was much, much more extreme than she'd been imagining, she wanted to protest, but something inside her was crying out with joy at being released from responsibility. She nodded, and felt a shiver at the glint in his eye. Her nervousness made her need to go to the toilet, but as she started to push her chair back, his hand slapped the table.

"Where do you think you're going?" He hissed.

She was mortified, she'd made a mistake so quickly, had just assumed he hadn't meant that level of control. "S-sorry, sir! I didn't think!"

"No, you didn't, and not in a good way." His voice was harsh, but then became softer, "but it's OK, you're a bit confused right now, it's my job to train you, and my fault if you don't do things right."

It felt as if her heart was coming back to life, how had she ever given this up? She felt the peace of not having to feel guilty, of just doing her best and that being good enough. "May I go to the toilet, then, sir?"

He waited a few moments, considering. "I think you need to wait for a while, girl, learn your lesson."

The swirling of shame and desire was just on the edge of unbearable, she stared at the table, unable to meet his eye. After what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes he told her she could go, "but I want to you to eat some of your own wetness before you piss for me, and think about how much you need this."

Isabel nodded shyly and rushed away. She wanted to bring herself off, but he'd know somehow, as he always knew, and indeed as she sat back down he searched her face and was satisfied that she's done as he'd said and only as he'd said.

"In future, don't ask for permission," he told her in a casual tone, as if they were discussing the weather, "just keep me informed about anything like that, and I'll tell you what to do."

She nodded again, it was becoming natural to just agree with him. Already, something seemed to be happening inside her head. Things were quieter, the stress was melting away, and she was just completely focused on Liam, on his plans for her.

When the waitress brought their food, she just sat patiently as he started eating a few bites, running his eyes over her gently, slightly flared nostrils the only sign he was enjoying making her wait. "Start eating," he said eventually, "chew each mouthful 30 times before swallowing. Savour each mouthful."

She did so, marvelling at how much she was enjoying the food, she usually didn't notice eating, just snatching meals on the go as she hurried around. This was like a kind of meditation, with less thoughts to trouble her she could experience her senses in a way she'd almost forgotten.

About three quarters of the way through her meal, he told her to stop, and she obediently put down her utensils. "Good girl," he told her warmly, and she blushed again at the waitress ovehearing as she cleared the plates. "How are you doing, Bella? Be completely honest with me, as you should always be from now on."

She thought carefully. "I'm feeling good, Lee, it's a bit strange, but feels natural to just let you take charge."

He smiled proudly at her, and she felt a tingle run through her. "Very good girl," the tingle got stronger. "I wonder if you remember something fun we used to do?" The tingle became a pulsing. "What happens when I count down from ten, Bella?" The pulsing became an overwhelming throbbing in her clit that melted away everything else but this conversation.

"I come for you, Lee," she said in a small voice.

"Mmmm, yes, very, very good girl. Ten... Nine... Eight...." Every number made her arousal spike up a level, and she was lightly panting as he paused and ordered dessert. "Seven..." He ran a finger around her lips and she parted them automatically. "Six..." he breathed almost inaudibly as she sucked his finger and felt as if it was fucking her.

Dessert arrived, but they didn't break eye contact. The staff must be giggling at their antics but Isabel was beyond caring. She was utterly under Liam's spell, mind fuzzy with arousal as he fed her and himself alternately from the one bowl of ice cream he'd ordered, counting down every few spoonfuls. He gave her the last mouthful, then as he pulled away the spoon, murmured "One... come for me, Bell,"

She allowed the glorious waves of release to flow through her, always feeling as if she orgasmed with her whole body when she came like this.

His eyes were burning. "That's my good little girl, so obedient, so helpless," the charged phrases kept her aftershocks going. She wouldn't let anyone else talk to her like this, but for some reason he'd always been a special case, always able to slide under her defences like they didn't exist.

She was in a daze as he threw down some money on the table, and told her every movement to make, "pick up your coat, put it on, follow me out..."

They sat in his car for a while, recovering a little. He stroked her face tenderly. "You'll have to stay at mine for a while, of course,"

A part of her struggled, trying to remember what it was like to be independent, to not need him, but it was all fading fast. "Of course," was all she could manage.

"That's my very good little girl, Bell, why not have a nice little sleep for me while I drive us home."

She leant back in the seat and felt the drowsiness overtake her. She couldn't remember ever feeling more complete. All was right with the world at last.

Sunday, 29 May 2011

Here Kitty

She felt feral, raw, they were making out in an alley, behind the dustbins, and she felt like a wild and abandoned creature, finding a like minded soul to sing at the moon with. He was so fucking beautiful, angular and otherworldly, their sharp claws and pointed teeth had called out to each other invisibly, under the veneer of civilisation, and now the gloves were off.

He bit her neck gently, hand scratching lightly up and down her bare arms. He was toying with her like a cat with a mouse. It made her shiver and bare her teeth.

She started to claw at him too, but he pulled away suddenly and tapped her on the nose. "Bad kitty!"

She was confused, but felt a new kind of arousal flare up. It wasn't anything she could really get upset by, just a silly little joke, but she felt put down, told off, and she liked it more than she thought she would.

"There, that's better isn't it?" He stroked her under her chin and with every touch she seemed to feel more of her usual thoughts fade away, to be replaced by something instinctual, yet dainty and feminine. Her claws receded, she purred inside, subdued and happy.

He blinked slowly at her, and she felt herself copy him, feeling relaxed and safe as if it was time to curl up in front of the fire.

"Good kitty, such a pretty little kitty-cat, who wants a treat then?"

She nodded at him without really knowing what he was offering. She was his pet now, and trusted his plans for her.

He unzipped his flies and pushed on her shoulders. "Down, kitty, be nice and maybe you'll get some cream."

As she sucked his cock, the taste and feel made her head buzz like catnip, she felt a low vibration start in her throat and buzz through him. She hoped it would make him happy with her.

Saturday, 28 May 2011


I'm at a gig on my own, as is often the way, but I enjoy being surrounded by people all as caught up in the music as I am. The guitars are heavy and deep, throbbing through me, making me feel connected to something powerful. I smile like an animal, wired on adrenaline, and look around for someone to feed off.

That one, perfect, crushed up to the stage, eyes wide as he stares at the band in devotion. Later he'll be looking at me like that. I push closer to him, to check him out in more detail. Shoulder length dark hair, pale eyes, tight black clothes, well washed tshirt of the band we're watching. Beautiful. He's skinny as a rake, muscled in a wiry way, but he still looks fragile somehow, as if I could break him with a harsh word.

I press against him in the encore, breathing on his neck a little. He doesn't notice at first, but after a while I catch him sneaking glances behind him. There's fear and hope in his eyes and it makes my desire flare to think of bending him to my will.

As everyone claps I lean forward "You're coming home with me." It's somewhere between a command and a statement. He turns round to answer, but can't seem to make the words come. As people start leaving we stand there, in a bubble of my making as if time has stopped. He's glowing and alive and I want to tear him to pieces.

He seems to realise there's nothing else for it and just nods cautiously. My lips curl and my nostrils flare. I can always pick the ones that will submit easily, lets just see if he can entertain me as well.

I walk off and he follows me to my car, he looks like a little boy in the front seat, lost and confused. It reminds me that I need to do something. "Give me your wallet." I demand. He breathes in sharply, looks scared and my clit starts to twitch. "I'm not going to rob you, pretty thing, just hand it over."

I rifle through it, get his name, that he's 19 and a student, lives in the area, so if I need to chuck him out he can walk home. All fine. I hand it back to him and drive off. He keeps his eyes on my legs, my short skirt has ridden up and my black stockings are showing. Silly boy, he should be watching where we're going.

I lead him into my house, pour him a drink, put on some music he'll like, and sit in my chair. He stands there awkwardly. "Sit down, honey, just relax," I purr.

He perches on a seat opposite me, sipping nervously at his glass, watching me with that cute deer in the headlights look.

Can he actually speak? "So, sweetie, what are you thinking?"

He gulps, "Uh, look this kind of thing doesn't happen to me, I'm a bit out of my depth."

"But you want to be here."

"Oh yes! You're really hot and..."


He looks down at the ground, "... and you like the kind of music I like..."

It's like a magic key to unlock boys like him, I'm a fantasy come true and they can't think straight, just drift into my trap, helplessly, willingly. "Mmm, yes I do, do you know what I really like about it?" He shakes his head gently.

I smile and continue, making my voice resonant and seductive. "The way it just floats around your head... so slow and overpowering... warm and fuzzy... filling up all the gaps in your head..."

I carry on like this for a while, watching him carefully, until his eyelids start to droop and he's looking glazed and vulnerable. He's mine.

I put my glass down, his eyes follow the roll of my hips as I walk over to him. I take his drink out of his hand, put my finger under his chin and lift his face to look up at mine. "Who's a sleepy little boy, then?"

He smiles weakly, "Me, miss,"

"Yes, you are, sleepy and relaxed and turned on." I can see the bulge in his skinny jeans.

He nods, slightly ashamed.

"Shh, it's OK, pretty thing, I'm aroused too, you can probably smell me from there, can't you?" I lifted up my skirt with unhurried smoothness. He gasps as he sees I'm not wearing any panties. I stay there for a few endless heartbeats, let him drink in my smell, entranced by the sight of my beautiful pussy, and of course the spiral tattoo just above it.

"Lick me," I whisper in that special voice that must be obeyed.

He breathes faster and leans forward, his pointed pink tongue darting out to service me. I let my skirt fall over his head and hold onto his shoulders, guiding his movements to my requirements. He's very good at this, I grind my hips onto his face, congratulating myself on my choice.

"Good boy, ahhh, such a good boy, you're doing so well, you're really pleasing me..." every affirmation making him moan in pleasure into me, the vibrations buzzing against me, making me shake with desire. "Make me come, you little slut, make me come on your face, ahhhh!"

He probably can't breathe, but he doesn't complain, just waits for me to finish and pull away from him. Bless him. I sit down on his lap, feeling his erection push against my still sensitive pussy.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" I ask kindly.

"Yes please, miss," he replies cautiously, looking up at me, still a little dazed. My heart goes out to him, such pure and simple awe on his face. Completely in my hands. Awaiting my decision.

"Do you play guitar, boy?"

"Y-yes, miss."

"Good," I unzip his trousers, pull out his thick cock, and slide myself down on top of it. "Now, if you can talk about your pedals and how you use them until I come again, I might let you come as well."

He swallows hard, trying not to show he thinks I'm crazy. "Um, Ok... I've got a vintage Univox Superfuzz... oh, god...."

"mmm.... very good, boy, keep going," He's pretty damn skilled at this too, I pump onto him and enjoy the crosseyed look he gets as he tries to think about what to say. He's got a 50-50 chance of getting to come tonight, I think.

Friday, 27 May 2011

The Sea

The night had been a blur, I was caught between trying to impress his friends, and laughing inside at how crazy this all was. As if anyone was going to believe I fitted in here, even scrubbed up, in a nice frock and with hair done perfectly by a disapproving hairdresser, there was still something of the gutter about me. Something that wanted to stuff my pockets with food from the buffet to eat later on the bus.

Still, I'd held my own, my wit helping me out of my lack of knowledge about business matters and society gossip. Some of his friends had even tried flirting with me, although I just put them down with a sharp comeback and a snooty look. He paid me enough attention to be protective, but not enough to make me feel entirely comfortable. There was still an edge of fear, despite all his protestations of gallantry, I didn't really know him.

Once we were alone, all my worries resurfaced. I instantly felt awkward, ashamed, not knowing what to do with myself. He saw and smiled, as much enjoying my discomfort as to reassure me.

"Oh, don't be frightened, just you and me now."

"Yeah, that's the problem."

He came towards me, put an arm around my back, pushed my hair off my face. My body moulded to his automatically, as my instincts took over. I looked up into his face, my eyes big. It was out of my hands now, this was his territory and I just had to follow his lead.

"Shh, it's OK, just look in my eyes and you'll see that you can trust me," I did as he asked, falling into them, so beautiful, flecked and green, just like.... "They're like the sea, aren't they? You remember the sea don't you?"

It was as if he'd seen my thoughts, or perhaps... put them there... I remembered the sea (when had we been by the sea?). Laying down, warm in the sun, dozing while he described the waves, their slow, endless motion, something so soothing, so easy to just accept, always there, endless...

I felt dazed, as if I was floating, the familiar feeling creeping over me too rapidly to resist. Oh god, I was helpless to do anything as he kissed me hard, moved me where he wanted me, not even needing to keep up any patter as my keen awareness of our relative positions did all the work for him.

He was in charge.

I wasn't.

"Remember the sea..." he whispered from time to time, when I looked as if my thoughts were resurfacing and I went back down into the soft depths, his tongue, the waves, his hands, the irresistible currents. Each time my arousal washed through me I sank deeper under his control, lost a little more ability to resist, more open, more vulnerable, until I knew I was completely in his thrall and shuddered with release.

His eyes glinted. "Good girl, now, remember the whirlpool."

Everything went black.

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

For Me

This one's for me, a selfish act, not something designed to please you, or to fulfil his fantasies, but just mine alone.

A perfectly judged sharp slap, time stops, my head empties, there's nothing but this moment, and the pure alert focus of attention. 

I don't need to make up a story if I don't want to, I don't need to entertain or impress, I'm serving myself today.

The sound of a voice caught between awe and laughter, sweet and vulnerable as it leads me into the darkness.

And yet, this isn't about me, I'm barely here, this is me looking out, me hearing, me feeling, it's about the things that take me away from myself, into something better.

The feeling of lips on mine, a soft connection with so much force hidden behind it, a tongue swirling around my mouth, merging, endless.

The sublime other.

Music that sounds like the universe breathing, music you hear with your body, falling deeply and safely, cushioned, protected, surrounded by something eternal and powerful.

There's no need to create a visual, this is a hidden world, an invisible world of sounds, sensations, ideas and emotions.

A smell like a drug, affecting without me being able to pin it down, nothing unnatural, almost imperceptible, I only know it's there because I relax, feel aroused, I'm out in the wilds yet finally home.

It's even beyond words, the language I usually crave falls short of things this overwhelming.

Being held in the perfect position, all aches and pains melt away, nothing matters, nothing can touch me here.

Sunday, 22 May 2011


My arrival seems a world ago, my nervous formality as I knelt and handed you the crop you'd told me to bring. You coldly accepted the offering, placing it on the table without a word, leaving it untouched as you methodically stripped layer after layer of my clothing and defences. Soon I was naked and trembling, no longer a witty, sharp talking professional, but a vulnerable and aroused sub, confused by your games, lost, only able to cope with following commands.

It's dark outside now, we've been here for hours, the warmth of the day has turned to evening chill, and you drew the thick curtains sometime when I was blind. Your eyes hold me as you wrap the rope around my wrists behind me. I'd keep them in place from just a word, but I enjoy the sensuality of the cord on my skin, a little rough, a little smooth, as perfectly balanced as everything between us.

You pull up the loose end, making slow pain bloom in my shoulders. I bite my lip, breathe hard. The pain is a gift to me, my suffering a gift to you. You sense the point of my tolerance, hold my arms there, curling your lips, as I try to smile back bravely. Then too suddenly for me to know what's happening you strain my arms up a notch, beyond what I can bear and I scream out from a place deep within me.

Your hand muffles me abruptly, "No," you tell me, and I try to cope with the fire. "OK, better." You efficiently position me across a padded stool, I focus on the cool velvet against my belly as you bind me to the legs, my breasts hang loose over the edge, blood starts to rush to my head. You pinch my nipples hard when you're done, more out of affection than sadism, like a pat on the head to a dog.

I hear you move to the table. It's time. I clench unconsciously. Although the thought of being disciplined turns me on, the hard reality is something I shrink from, but it's too late. I'm helplessly splayed, arse thrust out as if it needs to be struck, like a plant reaching for sunlight.

Your hand strokes my smooth behind, no evidence that this won't be the first time. You've been kind in the past, I fear I passed your tests too well and you're going to take me to the next stage. The first few thwacks fool me, I think it's going to be bearable, then the messages get from my nerves to my mind and I start to scream out wordlessly in anguish.

My protests just make you hit harder, more precisely, until at last some sense of self preservation makes me beg you to stop, I'm crying without shame, big gulps of air, eyes streaming.

"Shh, it's OK," you wipe away my tears with a soft handkerchief, your hand on the back of my neck reassuringly. "I'll give you a choice. You can go home now, I'll clean you up, get you a taxi, and phone you tomorrow to see how you are."

I sniff pathetically, "O-or?"

"Or you can stay, and make me proud of you."

I take some deep breaths. There's no choice really. "I'll stay, please."

"Good girl." I can hear something in your voice that makes it all worthwhile. Something like awe. I vow to take whatever you give me.

Once I've decided that, the pain can't touch me, I just float on the endorphins, every stroke stoking my desire, until my body is just pure sensation. You keep going again and again, in the same place. I whine softly at the purity, at the intensity, until I realise you've stopped. I hold my breath. Is it over? Then, with full force the crop snaps one final time and I feel something break. It's an ecstatic moment, as if I've touched the infinite. I'm coming hard, but I barely notice. I know before you hold your hand in front of my eyes that you've drawn blood. I lean down and kiss your hand, the metallic taste making my tongue tingle.

Your head rests against mine, for a moment we stay like that, calm and at peace, then you move your head away and I feel your pointed tongue run along the welt. I gasp at this new sting, and as I'm reeling I realise you're fucking me, our sweat mingling and rubbing into the soreness. I'll be marked from this. You've claimed me. There's no going back. I grind my behind into you, relishing the ache, not being able to distinguish between it and the growing pleasure. You're pumping hard and deep, but as you're nearly there you pull out, making me come with your hand while your spunk lands molten and burning in the stripes on my behind.

I shudder into your hand, blissfully happy at the holy union of my blood, your spunk and my come.

Thursday, 19 May 2011


I don't know how I got here, it doesn't really matter any more, all of that is far away.  All I know, all I've known for as long as I can remember, is being suspended in this web, this strange network of soft, rubbery black threads, crisscrossing my body, supporting me, imprisoning me.  They move sometimes, I don't know if they have minds of their own or if they're being directed.  I'm so tired all the time, that I just sag, helpless to escape, and let them do what they like.

I know another round is starting when tendrils slip into my ears, the soothing whispers start, and my head begins to loll. At first I'd try not to listen, but the voices were too insistent, too persuasive, and so now I just nod absently along to the suggestions, feeling as if a good friend is giving me advice, or perhaps trying to seduce me, I don't really care once the strands around my clit start to lick me and gently slide up inside.

Deep feelings of arousal and wellbeing pulse through me, washing everything else away, the strings have become my lovers, my desires, my controllers. I come for them again and again, and as they absorb my wetness, it makes them ripple and shine.

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Quick and Easy

A look across a room, eyes that burn into her coldly, appraising her, scientific almost. She blushes and looks down without knowing why. Later the same man is being introduced to her, his smile is polite but knowing, is it all in her head? Surely he can't see her dirty little thoughts the way his amused expression would suggest.

They talk a while, she tries to take charge of the conversation, win back some ground, but without being aggressive he somehow manages to steer her in directions she didn't want to go, she's opening up to him, telling him about her private life, as if she's known him for years.

Eventually the words stop, he's looking at her again, calm, powerful. "You should go," he whispers.

She's startled, doesn't he like her? Is he bored? Her eyes are wide and she doesn't know what to say.

He smiles cruelly, "or I'm going to make you do all sorts of sordid things, there's no way you can resist me."

She breathes deeply, relief and arousal filling her. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmurs coyly.

Sunday, 8 May 2011

Back View

My arse was plugged up tight, a softly buzzing vibrator pushed deep inside, echoing the matching one in my cunt. I would have felt humiliated, exposed in my hogtied position, kneeling, head down, with my arms bound across my chest, but the drugs coursing through my system made me feel too sleepy and compliant to care.

All I could do was fall into the pulsing, letting the waves of arousal build up, wiping out my mind until his hand on my behind didn't faze me at all, it just seemed to be part of this dreamy experience.

He stroked my smooth skin, caressing the soft curves of my backside firmly, making me feel vulnerable and protected at the same time. When I'd just had time to get used to it, to like the warmth of his touch, he took his hand away.

A sharp slap stung me in its place, making me feel ashamed without knowing why. In my fuzzy state, I couldn't separate out the feelings, and as he kept up a rhythmic spanking it just heightened my pleasure.

Softly, so softly, I started to lose control, moaning helplessly into the bed. As my shaking legs signalled my impending orgasm, he stopped spanking and let a hot spray of his spunk rain onto my body, pushing me over the edge.

Saturday, 7 May 2011


When they met she was beyond hope, trash, he found her in some seedy bar, drunk, talking to some guy who'd been topping up her glass, slurred and debasing herself. God knows what he saw in her, she just remembered him taking her arm, saying "Come on girl, time to get you home," and the other man's surprised expression.

She opened her mouth to give him some shit, but saw something in his eyes that made her hesitate, made her play along. "Hey, Daddy, what you doing down here?"

His eyes flashed with some cross between lust and amusement. "I came to find you, dear, when I saw you'd forgotten to take your medication, well..."

"Oh, silly Daddy, you know I'm a slut whether I take my medication or not." she smiled the brightest smile she had for a long time, and enjoyed the horrified look on the face of the loser she'd been talking to, as the new man dragged her away.

He pushed her up against his car, slid his hand up her skirt, slowly, so achingly slowly she felt herself shake with desire before he reached her wet knickers. His hand slipped inside them with no resistance; as he caressed the folds of her pussy for the first time, she just gazed hungrily at him as if he'd been doing this for years.

"It's a good job I came by, girl."

She tilted her head to the side, smiled "and why's that?"

"Because you need taking in hand."

"Mmm, promises, promises." she tried to sound confident, but his expert fingers were making her breath ragged, and her vision start to blur.

"I can see you've got something special in you," his hand pressed inside her as he said this, "but you've let yourself go, you've got lazy, slutty, cheap," these were punctuated with little pinches on her clitoris that made her gasp.

She wanted to disagree, to tell him she was just trying things out, seeing the world, but the look on his face told her he'd accept no argument. "Yes, sir," she blurted out without knowing why.

"You need someone like me to give you direction, to show you how a proper girl should behave."

She couldn't do anything but nod desperately at this point, his words were just a fuzzy background to her arousal, she'd agree to anything he wanted, so long as he kept touching her like that.

"You want to come back with me, let me train you."

"Yes, sir."

"Do whatever I say."

"Yes sir!"

"Obey me."

"Oh! oh! Yes sir! Yessss..." her pussy spasmed helplessly around his hand, which was so strong, and certain, and knowing, she just felt weak and fragile in comparison. She kept coming for an age, legs giving out, his grip on her sex the only thing holding her up, the only thing between her and the abyss.

"Good girl," he whispered and let her into his car.


The next morning she woke up in a clean, white bed, it felt like she belonged there even though she'd never seen the room before. There were books, CDs, DVDs and a player hooked up to a monitor, not hers, but with a kind of familiarity, as if they could have been hers in a different life.

She was dressed in a simple, pale silk gown, and had vague memories of him feeding her glasses of water as he stripped her and washed her, murmuring reassurances, making her feel safe and protected.

Her clothes and phone were nowhere to be seen, she tried the door and found it locked, a slight burst of panic gave way to acceptance surprisingly quickly. Someone didn't provide all this comfort for someone they planned to harm did they? She was grateful there was an en-suite at least.

She occupied myself for a while, playing some music and reading, oddly calm. Perhaps she should have felt like she'd been abducted, been trying to escape, but instead she felt like she was on holiday, she had agreed to this after all, albeit in a slightly coerced way.

Finally, the door was unlocked, without really knowing why, she quickly put aside her book and sat up primly. He smiled at her eager face, not showing whether he'd been wondering if she might be angry.

"Morning, girl, ready for a fresh start?"

"Yes, sir!"

His hand shot out and grabbed her hair, pulled her face towards his. "Don't fucking lie, bitch!" he spat at her.

Tears sprang to her eyes, she'd been ready for some nice cozy scene and he'd slapped her expectations to the ground. She didn't know what to say and just stood there awkwardly.

Then he stroked her face tenderly, the sensation felt all the more real in her raw emotional state, she hung onto the comfort it gave as he carried on caressing her, hands firmly rubbing the back of her neck, her shoulders, soothing her tense muscles.

She felt like she was hanging in a balance, breathing softly so as not to break the spell as his fingers lightly slipped over her breasts through the silk, the touch felt so smooth and soft that her chest pushed itself into his hands to feel more of this pleasure.

He chuckled and just drifted his attentions across her taut stomach, her behind, the skin yearning for sensation, tingling with desire as he moved onwards. Her pussy was aching, hot and wet, needing him to touch it so badly but there was nothing she could do. She looked at him with parted lips and wide eyes, begging him silently.

"There you go, now you're ready." He pushed her back onto the bed, spread her legs and knelt before her almost reverentially. He slowly moved the skirt up her thighs, revealing more and more of her pale skin. Time seemed to move differently, slowed down, but with every second filled with intensity.

He bent his head to kiss her mound, gently licking her clit, pressing his fingers inside her so easily. All the sensations blurred into one eternal, liquid wave, just building for ever, each ripple of pleasure setting off more and more in turn. Her thoughts were long gone, dissolved without her noticing.

She half realised that his thumb had taken the place of his tongue, and that he was kissing her, her own juices making his lips sweet, their faces crushed together hungrily.

"What do you need?"

"Fuck me!"

He took his hand away from her pussy abruptly and slapped her thigh. "No, try again, what do you need?"

Confusion filled her, she didn't know how to respond, didn't know what he wanted, she wasn't used to this kind of thing, couldn't predict him. "Er... Use me?"

Another slap, harder this time.

She searched his face, trying to see what he was looking for, but he wasn't giving anything away. "Train me?" she tried.

His hand returned to giving her a little pleasure, light touches, just making her ache for something more. "A bit better," he conceded, "but still not quite there."

She reached deep inside herself. What did she really want, what did she really need? He wouldn't be satisfied with the usual trite things that subs said to doms, this was something new, something real. She felt words come unbidden to her lips. "Save me."

He looked surprised, she wasn't sure what he was imagining, but that hadn't been it. However, he accepted her answer, recognising it's truth. He gently slid his cock inside her, every millimetre multiplying her arousal, making her feel helpless and safe at the same time. They fell into rhythm together, locking eyes, seeing something new, scary, but utterly desirable in the depths.

As they lost themselves in each other she felt washed clean, she felt reborn.

Thursday, 28 April 2011


"You said you'd phone."

"Well, I didn't."

If anyone else had pulled this shit on me, I'd have been disgusted, called them unreliable, taken the high ground; but instead I just stood there, watching his unruffled demeanour, and felt my clit start to pulse.

There was no explanation, no apology. He knew there was no need for them, that I just had to accept it, and like it. All I could do was sit down at his feet, and say "OK."

He patted my head. "Good girl." Such a basic form of humiliation and reward, I was being conditioned like a dog. He knew that I saw all his tricks, and they just made me like him more. I'd always been longing for someone who I'd let treat me like this, someone who could find the sweet spot between trust and betrayal. I didn't expect he'd have been the one to tame me, but somehow he'd slipped past my defenses.

He went back to his reading. I didn't enjoy being ignored, but I knew I was doing what he wanted by suffering it, and that made me feel good, proud, aroused. After a while, I was granted something to occupy myself, he didn't look at me, but held out a finger of his left hand. I slid it into my mouth, suckling on it, feeling peace and contentment make my mind fuzzy. I lost track of how long I was there, but after a while, he stood up and I knew the games were starting in earnest.

"What have you been doing today?" He had a way of asking questions that chilled me: his tone of voice was so kind, almost soothing, but always pinpointing whatever I felt most guilty about at the time.

"Um, nothing really, just been doing some stuff online." We both knew what that meant. At best reading porn, at worst...

"Trying to get some sad fuckers to wank about you?"

I blushed and felt sick. It wasn't like that, I just liked chatting to people, but he knew that a small part of me worried about why I was doing it, some twisted, self destructive part of me, the part that he'd made friends with, the part he used against me.

I'm an emotional masochist, I don't seek after the traditional kinds of degradation and humiliation, but shoot the right pointed comment at my heart, one that finds my weak spots, and, damn, that's hot.

He sighed. "Now, we've talked about this before, you need to stop wasting your time, you're not getting any younger," he explained patiently. "You need to be getting a better job, you're not going to find anyone to support you at your age, you know."

My anger flared, there were so many things wrong with what he was saying, that all the conflicting emotions made me incoherent, "I don't... I'm not... that's so fucking out of order!"

His eyes glinted in triumph, I'd let myself down so early, so easily. He was getting too good at this. Gone were the days of calling me a slut, a tease, a desperate little whore. Things I was prepared for, that took hours of teasing and mind games before I snapped.

He said nothing but his expression clearly said 'you think you get to tell me I'm out of order?'

I was helpless with shame, this was going to be bad, but according to the unspoken rules, I knew I deserved a punishment. I braced myself.

Suddenly the left side of my face was on fire, my ear was ringing and I had a massive dump of chemicals racing around me. His hand had moved so fast, with so little warning that I had to guess it had been a sharp and precise slap causing the pain.

I just stood there in shock, and felt those heavy, hot tears start to roll down my face. His mouth twitched in delight as he watched them. I think he might have liked watching me silently cry more than anything else we did.

He was waiting for something. What could it be? Oh, of course. "Thank you, sir." I said contritely.

His hand brushed my sore cheek tenderly, so fucking tenderly that my tears burst forth stronger than ever. "There, that's better, isn't it?"

I nodded. He was right as usual, the overwhelming feeling of relief when I got to the other side was so pure, so untainted, that I was utterly addicted.

He slid his hand up my skirt, softly stroking me through my knickers. "Tell me why you're wet."

"Because I love this. Because I need your discipline. Because... I'm weak."

"Mmmm, good. Bedroom."

We screwed the same way we played head games, like music made with telepathic understanding, no plan, no script, just a perfectly timed ebb and flow.

He punctuated his fucking with gentle cruelty. "Frankly, you don't really need to be here, I'm only interested in your body, you can just fuck off, think about something else, or better yet..." he pulled my head back so he could hiss in my ear, "stop thinking altogether."

The combination of deep pleasure and relentless mindfucking meant I couldn't think even if I wanted to. I don't know he did it, every time was different, but he could somehow tell what would push me into that magic zone where everything fell away apart from him and me, where we were dark and golden.

I was moved around like a doll, I'd come to know his favourite positions and slipped into them smoothly with very little guidance, his hands could puppet me easily now. It didn't even faze me when I was turned completely around, pivoting on his cock, one minute rammed face down into the mattress, the next, legs over his shoulders gazing into the eyes that pierced my soul.

We were raw at times like this, all the bullshit ripped away. It wasn't about sub and dom any more, wasn't about pain and psychology, just need, awe, completion.

In the afterglow of another shining orgasm, I gazed at him lovingly, enjoying the moments I had while he was mellow and quiet. "That was incredible," I whispered, smiling hesitantly, hoping I'd done enough for the night.

My heart sank as I saw the light in his eyes change. "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it, I didn't get that much out of it..."

"I don't believe you," I tried, but my voice wavered, the tears were back.

"Well, I just do it as a kindness, this isn't really my kind of thing."

I felt like an insect. "What do you mean?"

"Fuck, honey," he stroked my hair but there was no warmth in his touch, "it's all a bit... pointless isn't it? I don't want someone who has to try to please me, I want someone who doesn't need to be shown how to be a real woman. I mean I know it's all you can manage, but it's more of a charity thing for me."

"Stop it! I can't handle this!" I blurted out through my sobs, but he just narrowed his eyes at me, looked slightly disappointed.


My emotions were reeling, I felt like everything I held dear had been flayed to a pulp, but did I really need him to stop? I looked woozily at him, tears drying slightly, trying to see something to help me decide.

His gaze was cool and clear, no remorse, no concern, but also no anger or frustration. He was just waiting, watching, dispassionately interested in how I'd respond.

Of course, he'd never give anything away, he always played things absolutely for real, and to all intents and purposes it was real. I just had to take a leap of faith or admit that he'd beaten me.

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. I'm fine."

He smiled, and I saw a flicker of something sweet before he covered it up. It was beautiful. "Glad to hear it, you'll have to be punished, of course."

I hung my head. "Yes, sir." My hair hid my face, but I'm sure he could tell I was proud to be back in tune with him.

Saturday, 23 April 2011


Liz scanned the shelves in the Psychology section, as usual drawn there without really knowing what she was looking for. There were a few books on hypnosis, they didn't look very inspiring, but she wistfully ran her finger along them anyway, almost as if something would flow out of them and up her arm.

"That's the best one," said a voice behind her as she lingered on the one she'd been considering, "but the selection here's shit, you'd be better off buying online."

She turned to see a young man behind her, somehow wavering between looking like someone who'd know about hypnosis and someone who was just pulling her leg. He had an air of geeky intelligence, piercing green eyes, and a cheeky grin. She tried not to notice how sexy he was, she couldn't handle the disappointment of seeing her age reflected in the eyes of youth.

He weighed her up for a few moments, seeming to enjoy her discomfort at not being able to speak or look away. "Buy me a coffee and I'll write down some recommendations." He stated calmly, assuming she would do as he said.

"Do I know you?" she managed to stammer, not sure what was happening.

He chuckled, "Don't you know? Forget things a lot do you?" He winked, and she wasn't sure if she was being called old or a hypnofetishist. Either way, she felt her clit pulse at the dig. He held out his hand. "I'm Adam."

"L-liz" she said grasping his hand, half expecting it to turn into a speed induction, but he just shook it firmly and then rested his other hand on her elbow as he led her to the cafeteria.

She felt a little strange about what was happening, but she bought him a milkshake pretending to be a coffee, and was happy to sip her own Americano and watch him write a few books down on a napkin and natter about their relative merits.

He seemed very knowledgeable, and it felt good to be sitting with a pretty young boy, even if everyone probably thought she was his aunt or something. Eventually he stopped talking and spooned frozen milk into his mouth, licking it slowly and sensuously. She watched with her mouth open. He must know how dirty that looked, right?

"Um, how do you know all this stuff?" Liz asked to break the silence, and not a little to shake herself back to reality.

Adam waved a hand dismissively, "Oh, it's not that advanced, I've been doing it for years, anyone can learn it, you just need to practice applying it to each individual case."

"I've never been hypnotised," she said, her voice filled with yearning.

"Yet," he said calmly. "It would be so easy, I could do it right now if you wanted.

Liz breathed heavily. She felt lightheaded. Her heart pounded and it wasn't just from the coffee. "Please," she whispered.

"Well, just focus on this spoon, and let everything else fade away..."

Liz did as he asked, listened to his suggestions, let the world narrow to the shiny object in his hand. She was a little surprised there was nothing about feeling sleepy, but chastised herself for being so cliched, this wasn't a cheesy film, this was... wait, she'd lost track of what he'd been saying, what was she meant to be doing? Oh yes, that was right, sleep...

It couldn't be that easy could it? Was she really hypnotised? Adam was leaning back, pleased with himself, as if she was. Her head did feel fuzzy, she was staring vacantly at the point where the spoon had been, and didn't feel like doing anything else. Maybe this was what it felt like.

"Smile." came the command, and she felt her face move obediently. She idly noticed that she was aroused, and this increased as he told her to laugh, push her hair back, lean forward, hold his hand, each instruction followed perfectly without her needing to think about it.

"You're hypnotised."

"I'm hypnotised."

"You love how it feels."

"I love how it feels."

"You want to feel like this again."

"I want to feel like this again."

"You're a good girl."

"I'm a good girl."

He paused and smiled, narrowing his eyes, watching her coast on submissive arousal. "Good girls do what they're told."

She gasped, but heard herself repeat "Good girls do what they're told."

"You do what you're told."

"I do what I'm told."

"Follow me." he stood up and she did too, walking behind him through the store. Part of her was still marvelling at the experience, how normal it must look, but how firmly controlled she was. The rest of her was just.. asleep, obedient, aroused, subdued, compliant... She'd have been too turned on to walk if he hadn't been puppeting her.

Without her noticing, they'd entered a large individual toilet cubicle. He stood facing her for an indeterminate amount of time as she stared blankly at him. He seemed to be considering something, and she waited patiently for his decision, aroused and ready for anything.

He stroked her cheek kindly, then whispered "kneel," softly, almost reverentially.

She sank to the floor, eyes gazing glassily at his crotch while he opened his flies.

"Suck my cock."

She unhesitatingly wrapped her lips around its length, closing her eyes, enjoying the feel of it in her mouth, the focus, with no thoughts to distract her from her task of pleasuring him.

The rhythm of her sucking became her whole world, all she knew, his hands on the back of her head her only link to reality. It was peaceful and erotic, everything was so simple, so easy.

He started thrusting harder, and soon his come was pulsing down her throat. She swallowed and then knelt back, waiting for instruction.

He wiped himself off and put his cock away, then knelt down with her. He placed his hand to her sopping panties and looked deep into her eyes. "You've been a very good girl." She shivered and moaned softly. "Come for me now."

Liz ground herself onto his hand, fell forward onto him, and he held her close until she was done. She found she'd mostly woken up and looked shakily at him to see if it was allowed.

He smiled a little nervously, and she was suddenly aware of how young he was again.

"Wow, that was incredible," she said quickly, partly to reassure him, partly in hopeless gratitude.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with evil again, "Mmm, not bad for your first go, I'll have to push you harder next time."