The Writer's Loft

“I love you,” she softly whispered while he slept. He heard nothing as he lay beside her sleeping. It was the quiet moments like these that she treasured most; the rhythmic sound of his breathing and the rise and fall of his chest. She pressed her finger to her lips and then touched his before draping her arm over his chest.

Their naked bodies shimmered in the moonlight of the hot summer night. As she lay beside him, her mind drifted back to just a few hours earlier and the passion they shared. With her other hand she caressed her nipple where the clamp had so sweetly tortured her tender flesh.

Her mind raced as she relived the details of his hand on her flesh and she felt herself becoming aroused again. Her buttocks were still warm and stung a bit from the spanking she received over his knee. He was a master at making her wince with pain, and yet crave the sting of his hand even more. When they first met, she found the thought of lying naked across his lap appalling. Now, she takes solace and comfort in the affirmation of his touch. Pain and pleasure, two contrasting sensations, yet when combined, take her to places she never before knew existed.

She slid her hand down his torso and her fingers trailed slowly through the patch of hair below his navel. She caressed his shaft and watched in awe as it slowly awakened to her touch. She sat upright before leaning down and kissing the tip. She knew her liberty was pushing a boundary, but her desire for him was too great to consider the possible consequences of her actions.

She parted her lips and felt the head of his shaft slide past her teeth and over her tongue. She paused when she felt it press against the back of her mouth. She took a breath and swallowed, allowing his girth stretch the back of her throat.

Her eyes began to water as she bathed his shaft with her tongue. She savored the taste of the remnants of their earlier union and cupped him in her palm. She slowly pulled back and caught her breath before swallowing again. Her mind raced as he began to stir. His cock, now fully erect, throbbed as she swallowed it again and again.

He ran his fingers through her hair and guided her head up and down while she worshiped him. She closed her eyes and concentrated on his touch. She was disappointed when he pulled her off and then upwards, but her disappointment faded as he pulled her on top of him and kissed her hungrily.

She reached between them and gripped his shaft firmly, begging him with her eyes for permission to take him inside her. He placed his hands on her hips and pushed her downward and she closed her eyes and gasped as she felt his girth stretch her again.

She rode him slowly at first, allowing herself to become acclimated to his rhythm. She cupped her breasts and squeezed her nipples while arching her back and rocking back and forth. His grip on her thighs was strong and steady. She bit her lip when she felt him throb and knew that he was close. His fingers dug into her tender flesh as he planted his seed deep in her womb again. She collapsed on top of him as her own orgasm soon subsided and she kissed his chest and neck.

“I love you,” she softly whispered as she closed her eyes. Soon, sleep would come to take them both.

She lay on her back, her arms and legs were bound to the corners of the bed and the blindfold covered her eyes. She wore no clothing and her body was covered in gooseflesh as she waited nervously to feel his touch. Her nipples stood excited and she arched her back and pulled against the bonds that held her wrists securely. He watched her struggle and a smile crossed his lips as he finished his preparations.

He stood next to her and drew the tip of the feather duster from her shin, up her leg and over her knee. Once he passed her thigh, he lightly teased her sex before reaching her navel and the valley between her breasts.

She arched her back as her body began to tingle. She was aroused and could not remember the last time she felt this alive. She parted her lips and held her breath before she realized her teeth were biting her bottom lip, leaving indentations in their wake. She gasped when she felt the soft feathers against her neck and tried to pull away. She hated being tickled but she was trapped, completely at his mercy.

He leaned down and took her closest nipple between his lips and slowly sunk his teeth into her tender flesh. Sounds of desire escaped her lips as he began to suckle gently. He slid his hand between her thighs and the rabbit fur glove felt luscious against her skin. She opened her legs as she felt the soft fur against her sex and pressed her hips against his hand.

He pressed a cube of ice against her nipple and the sensation made her cry out again. Her mind raced as she tried to determine if the sensation was hot or cold. He trailed the cube down her torso and over her clit, leaving a trail of small puddles behind. He then pressed the cube inside her sex and she found herself panting and wanting him more.

“Please, Master. Take me now!” she begged. But he would not be persuaded. His lips found her tender nipples again and with a little coaxing they now stood erect, excited, and begging to be clamped. Never one to deny her desire, he placed a clamp over each nipple and tightened each screw until he was satisfied with his handiwork.

He stood and removed his clothes while he admired her naked body. His cock throbbed with desire at the sight of her beauty on display before him. He held his cock to her lips and she obediently opened her mouth and began to give him pleasure. He took his time using her mouth, allowing her to take pleasure in pleasuring him. He ran his hand up and down her torso, and occasionally wrapped his fingers around her neck. When he felt his pleasure nearing the edge he pulled back and leaned down, suckling her nipples again.

Taking his place on the bed, he positioned himself over her and slowly entered her. This was the moment she had been waiting for as she felt him ease into her and take her as his own. She pulled against her bonds to match his thrusts and in moments she felt his cock throb inside her before the warmth of his seed bathed her womb. She cried out as his orgasm initiated her own and they rode their waves of pleasure together. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her, his cock still deep inside her. He removed the blindfold from her eyes and gently kissed her lips.

“Thank you, Master,” breathless gasped as her breathing returned to normal.

He released her bonds and took her in his arms, holding her against him. She kissed his body and knew that she had finally found what she had been seeking for so many years.

Lust dripped from her lips as she watched him from across the room. Months had passed since her last feeding but tonight her hunger would finally sate. She studied him carefully as he mingled in the crowd. He was a master at working the room, but she desired to have him alone, all to herself.

She checked her crimson stained lips in her compact before closing it and ordering another Manhattan. The bartender set the drink before her and she sipped it slowly, her eyes never leaving him. Once or twice, his gaze crossed hers but he did not notice her. When she finished her drink she left a twenty on the bar next to the empty glass. She then stood, picked up her clutch, and the room began to fade away as she closed the distance between them.

He was talking to a couple when she approached. She rested her hand on his arm, leaned in and whispered something softly in his ear, before turning and walking towards the door. Her perfume was intoxicating and immediately cast him under her spell.

“Excuse me. I’m very sorry,” he offered. “But something has come up and I must leave.”

He shook hands with the gentleman, and hugged the lady before turning and following her towards the door.

He entered the hallway from the ballroom and it was deserted. Where had she gone?

He felt in his jacket pocket for his room key and pulled out a bar napkin instead. Written in black ink were the numbers 967 and a lipstick imprint of her lips. He made his way towards the elevator and pushed the button for the ninth floor. Questions raced through his mind as he wondered what he was about to walk into. A stranger, in a foreign city, a hotel room, what could be more cliché?

He knocked twice on the door and she opened it part way. He couldn’t see the delicate smile on her lips or the bloodthirsty fangs she hid from his view.

“Come in,” she said invitingly as she opened the door completely and turned and walked towards the bed. The suite was the finest in the resort’s inventory. Only the best clients stayed here. He watched her reflection in the window as she removed the red satin robe from her shoulders and draped in across the bed. She turned to face him wearing only her stockings and spiked leather stilettos.

“Do you like?” She asked as she took a step towards him.

His voice caught in his throat as she closed the distance between them. He felt himself flush and room grew unsteadily warm.

“What’s the matter?” She asked. “Cat got your tongue?”

He shook his head as she pressed her body against his. Her thigh rested against his throbbing cock and she knew he would not resist. She placed her finger on his lips and leaned in close to him. The now familiar scent of her perfume was intoxicating and he inhaled deeply. He closed his eyes when he felt her lips press against his. The last thing he remembered was the taste of blood and pain in his lip. For her, the night was still young. But for him, his life would never again be the same.

He watched her from across the room.
She was the epitome of elegance in her black velvet gown and matching gloves. The diamonds that hung from her neck cost more than he’d make in lifetime, and he was intrigued. Their eyes met multiple times throughout the night, quickly diverting with a blushing smile. He asked himself, “Was she as intrigued as he?”
He stood on the patio of the 34th floor, sipping his whiskey and watching the world pass below. He smelled her sweet French perfume and knew she was close. He sat his glass on the rail and turned to see her standing on the balcony alone, facing away from him, her back exposed by the cut of the dress. He envisioned his fingers trailing the length of her spine, the curve of her hip, and the soft inner reaches of her thighs. His thoughts were broken when she turned and faced him.
Before she could say a word he had closed the distance between them, placing his right hand along side her jawline, his thumb resting just in front of her ear and his fingers wrapped delicately around the base of her neck. His left hand pressed gently against her right cheek, preventing her from turning her head as he leaned in, his lips just a breath’s width from her own.
She closed her eyes as he studied her face, waiting to see what she would do next. Her perfectly crimson stained lips parted and he could see the tip of her tongue resting on her teeth.
He resisted the urge to complete the distance between them, but her resolve was not as strong. As she leaned forward and their lips met, electric currents coursed through her nerves. Their tongues dueled inside her mouth and soon his right hand fell to her waist as she took as step backwards and leaned against the rail. She wrapped her hands around his neck and ran her velvet-clad fingers through his hair. He slid his left hand down, cupping her breast through her dress, and she pressed her body against his. They cared not who was watching as the world began to slip away. For in that moment they were alone and each silently asked themselves one single question.

Will this be my last... first... kiss?

He stood behind her as she braced herself against the mantle of the fireplace. A snapping ember landed on her thigh and she flinched, crying out softly into the ball bag strapped between her lips.
He had dressed her in his favorite attire; black-laced brassiere and panty set with matching garters and stockings, and those delicious five-inch heels made of fine Italian leather be bought for her on their last holiday in Rome.
He pulled the hunting knife from the sheath that hung from his belt. The etchings of the Damascus blade shimmered in the firelight. He pressed the flat edge of the blade against her cheek, just below the line of her ear and he knew she would soon become aroused.
He leaned close to her and bit down on her earlobe. She closed her eyes as she felt his teeth sink into her flesh. She inhaled sharply through her nose when she felt him release his bite and the blood rushed back to her ear.
“I’m going to take my time undressing you with my knife,” he whispered; his lips barely touching her ear.
She whimpered through her gag when she felt the knife slice through the shoulder straps of her brassiere which now dangled freely about her her torso. He reached around and placed the knife between her breasts. She looked down only to see the knife make quick work of the bow that held the cups of her brassiere together and she felt herself become aroused when he discarded the now useless lace in the flames that danced before them.
With his thumbs, he made quick work of the straps on her garters that held her stockings. There was something about the ability to deftly maneuver the snaps that would set her free that brought a greater blood rush to his temples than merely destroying them with the blade.
He then slid his hand between her thighs and smiled when he felt her arousal cling to the back of his hand. He wasted no time in drawing the blade through the fabric of her panties and held them to his nose, briefly inhaling the scent of her femininity before tossing them into the flames before her.
Her eyes flew open when she felt the flat edge of the blade that had been pressed against her cheek, now resting against her clit and lips.
“Is my slut, aroused?” he teased, and she slowly nodded her head.
He carefully removed the blade from between her legs and held it up for inspection. He could see her arousal glistening on the blade.
He unbuckled the gag and it fell to the floor as he told her to turn around. The warmth on her back washed over her and she found her thoughts swirling as the new sensations assaulted her mind.
“Open,” he said.
She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. He laid the flat edge of the blade against her tongue and she savored the sweet taste of her arousal blended with the metallic taste of the metal. For a moment, she considered closing her lips around the blade to add the taste of blood to her senses, but decided against it as he pulled the knife from her lips and placed it back in its sheath.
“On your knees,” he said firmly. “It’s time for you to worship me and then I’m going to do something with that dripping mess between your legs.”

“You know I can’t let this slide,” he said calmly.
“I know, Sir,” she replied, her gaze fell to the floor.
He took his time removing her restraints and when he had finished, she dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his legs, holding him tightly.
“I’m going to go sit in the spanking chair and I want you to crawl to me.”
“As you wish, Sir,” She interjected.
Not yet finished, he continued. “And then I want you to lay across my lap. I’m going to spank you. But I want to be clear and I want you to understand that this spanking is not a punishment for what you did. However, it is a reminder of your roll and commitment to me, your Sir. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir. I understand,” she replied.
When he had taken his seat she crawled across the acid-stained concrete floor and up into his lap. She closed her eyes as he administered her spanking and her buttocks glowed bright red. When he finished, he told her to stand and she stood as instructed.
Her body began to tremble as he walked across the room and selected the bamboo cane from the display of implements that hung on the way. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes as fear and panic consumed her. He had used the cane on her only once and after three strokes she used her safeword. She was audibly crying by the time he stood beside her.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Do not cry, My pet. Five strokes will absolve your disobedience.”
She looked up at him with a puzzled look when she saw his outstretched hand.
“Take it,” he said, offering her the cane. Her hands were visibly shaking as she reached for the cane and watched as he removed his pants. He stood before her naked from the waist down and turned away from her, resting his hands on the back of the chair.
“Five strokes,” he repeated. Then he added, “And make them count.”
She burst into tears, sobbing audibly and begging him “No.” but he insisted. When she finished with the five he stood upright and took her in his arms. The only sound that filled the room was the cane as it hit the floor and her sobs of remorse.
“I’m so so so sorry, Sir. I will never disobey you again.”
“Yes, you will, my pet. And that’s okay. But now you understand what I mean when I say that punishing you hurts me as much, if not more, than it does you.”
“Yes, Sir. I do.” She said as he wiped her tear stained cheeks with his thumbs. He kissed her and then took her in his arms and carried her to bed. Tonight, more than ever, they needed to feel the touch of each other’s caress.

He drew his hand down her spine and watched as the gooseflesh formed on her skin. She stood before him, naked; save for her collar around her neck and the nipple clamps that hung from each breast. Her fingers were interlaced and her hands rested behind her head; her feet were shoulder width apart. He drew his hand to her hip and over the curve of her waist. He watched her shoulders tense when he cupped her buttock firmly. She worked out often and he could feel her muscled flesh flex in his hand.

He leaned forward and breathed slowly against the base of her neck. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sensations that were randomly caressing her body. She wobbled on her feet when she felt his hand slip between her thighs and brush against her sex. God, she could not believe she was this aroused.

“I’m impressed.” His words hung heavy in the air.

She debated on whether or not to thank him, but since he had not addressed her directly, she decided against saying anything at all.

He selected the doeskin flogger that hung on the wall and took his place in front of her. As he drew the leather strands through his fingers he noticed a glint of fear in her eyes.

“Have you ever been flogged before?” he asked.

“No, Sir. Never,” she replied.

“Close your eyes,” he said as he held the leather to her nostrils. “Now take a deep breath.”

She inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet, yet pungent scent of the leather. His actions had the desired effect on her as her body responded with further signs of arousal between her thighs.

“Do you want to feel the leather kiss your flesh, my pet?” he asked.

Hesitantly, she replied, “Yes, Sir.”

“I’m not sure I’m convinced,” he gleefully mocked, waiting for further affirmation from her.

“Please, Sir. I want to feel the flogger against my skin. I want to be your whipping post,” she begged.

“Much better,” he said as he reached out and drew the back on his index finger along her cheek and jaw line before leaning in and brushing his lips lightly against hers.

Her body shuddered when she felt his kiss. She hadn’t realized she was this aroused, but the anticipation had caused the first of many orgasms she would experience that night. He drew his finger down her neck and between her breasts until his finger pulled slightly against the chain that hung just above her navel.

“I’m going to whip these from your nipples, little one,” he warned.

She bit her lip at his words and tensed when she heard the leather bite through the air and land against her thigh. She was shocked as she had expected it to fall on her breast but it did not. Again, she heard the leather slicing through the air and landed on her other thigh, this time leaving a matching read hue on her other leg.

She took a deep breath, as she knew what was coming. But she was not prepared to feel the leather kiss her tender, swollen lips and clitoris. Her knees buckled and he reached out and caught her, steadying her on her feet.

“Are you ready to continue?” he asked once her breathing returned normal.

She nodded and then felt the lips of the leather kiss her right breast, freeing her nipple from the bite of the clamp. Then the next blow landed on her left breast and she flinched when she heard the clamps fall to the floor.

Her mind raced as the sensations of pain and pleasure, cold and warmth, and fear and peace flooded her mind. Then she felt his lips on hers again and his tongue probed her mouth. Her thighs were shaking as he pressed the heel of his hand against her clit and slipped one, then two fingers inside her. She cried out into his mouth as her orgasm coursed through her body. She knew her body had betrayed her and she had cum without permission.

He broke their kiss and pulled away. She stared deep into his eyes as a tear trailed down her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Master,” was all she said. She knew she would now be punished.

Ten…

Her body began to tremble as she felt his fingers inside her continue to push her closer to the edge.

Nine…

She bit her lip and held her breath trying to hold on.

Eight…

She closed her eyes.

Seven…

She arched her back.

Six…

She cried out, begging for release.

Five…

“Please, Sir!!!”

Four…

His fingers grazed her g-spot and her body shook.

Three…

His lips mashed hard against hers and silenced her cries.

Two…

He pulled away and cupped her breast.

One…

He pinched her nipple and his voice echoed through her mind, “Cum for me, My pet.”

Happy New Year!!!

*I was away for the holiday and didn’t get this posted sooner. I hope E/everyone had a wonderful and safe New Year’s Holiday. -ML

“Open your mouth.” His voice was quiet, but stern; it left no room for interpretation or question. Before she even realized she had moved, she had complied. She waited as she knelt before him with her lips slightly parted. He drew the side of his index finger along the line of her jaw and brushed her lips with his thumb. He pressed his thumb into her mouth and with a nod; she closed her lips and began to suckle.

She closed her eyes and worshiped his thumb as if it was his cock. She teased the pad of his thumb with the tip of her tongue and dragged her teeth lightly along the length of his digit. She parted her lips momentarily to take a deep breath and to let him see her tongue work its magic on his thumb.

He reached down with his other hand and brushed her errant bangs from her face. He clinched a fistful of her hair and tilted her head back, pulling her lips away from his hand. He dropped to one knee and kissed her hungrily as he caressed her breast with his free hand. He squeezed her nipple gently and she moaned softly into his kiss.

“Please, Sir…” She paused, waiting for him to take her.

He ignored her plea and cupped her breast. Lifting it, he broke their kiss and took her nipple between his lips. As he began to suckle, she sighed and wrapped her arms around his head and held him close. Ordinarily, she would not have made such a bold move, but she needed to feel him in her arms.

He picked her up and cradled her in his arms as he carried her to his bed. He laid her down gently and took his place beside her. As he pulled her to him and slowly entered her, he leaned down to kiss her and told her, “Tonight, I will ravage you for the way you teased and pleased me so.”

Her studio was small and the Christmas tree took up most of living room corner by the television set. She had called all her family and wished them a Merry Christmas before settling down with a mug of hot cocoa to watch “A Christmas Carol” before drifting off to sleep, hoping that Santa would soon arrive.

For twenty-some years she lived in the world of adults, no longer believing in the magic of Christmas. But as she turned off the television, she looked at the tree one final time and said, “Santa, if you’re out there. I believe.”

She closed her eyes and sleep quickly overtook her. The hours passed she slept soundly in her bed. As the first hint of morning light began to fill the small apartment she opened her eyes and was startled by the sight before.

“Santa?” She asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

The lively old elf stood and turned to face her. She sat upright and instinctively pulled the sheets and blanket up to her neck covering herself. What was this strange man doing in her apartment and how did he let himself in?

“Young lady,” he began. “For many years you’ve denied my existence. But your wish last night made it clear that in your heart, a small part of you still believes in the magic of Christmas.”

“Tell me now,” he continued. “How many years has it been since you stopped believing?”

Her mind began to race as she thought back to her childhood and when she learned at school that Santa was only make believe. She began to recall the details and remembered that fateful day. She was in the second grade and Susan Gentry pushed her off the merry-go-round and everyone laughed at her when Susan taunted her saying she was a baby because she believed in Santa Clause.

“Twenty-four years, Sir.” She said as she lowered her eyes.

“I remember the day too,” he said. “You were a naughty little girl that day and I think it’s time you received your penance for hurting Santa’s feelings. Don’t you you agree?”

Her eyes fluttered with fear as she looked the man in the face who stood beside her bed, offering his outstretched white gloved hand.

Pensively, she took his hand and crawled out of bed and stood before him, her eyes cast to the floor. She marveled at the fact that she could see her reflection in the shine of his black leather boots and found herself lost in the rhythmic pentameter of his words.

“I think you deserve one spanking for each year you didn’t believe. Does that seem fair to you?”

She nodded her head before even realizing what she had done as words escaped her tongue. He sat on the bed and patted his knee. She instinctively stood beside him. He took her small frame in his arms and laid her across his lap. Then he pulled her nightshirt up over her hips and her panties down to her knees.

She flushed with embarrassment as he caressed her legs and buttocks with his soft gloved hand.

“Are you ready to begin?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied.

“I want to hear you count each one out loud.”

His hand fell heavy on her left buttock and she yelped and counted, “One.”
The second fell heavy on her right cheek and she counted, “Two!” By seven, her eyes welled with tears. By seventeen her nose began to dribble. By twenty-two her cheeks were stained with tears and by twenty-four, her bum glowed bright pink.

As the elf finished administering his punishment he caressed her rosy buttocks before pulling her panties back up. Then he helped her to her feet and stood in front of her.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, young lady. Santa cares for you very much.”

She three her arms around the elf and hugged him very tight.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Santa. I never will again. Can I fix you a mug of hot cocoa before you go?”

“That would be lovely, my dear,” he said as she pulled away and made her way to the kitchen. “I hope next year when I return, you will have been a very good girl.”

“Oh, yes, Sir. I most certainly will,” she said with her back to him as she poured the steaming milk into a mug. When she turned back around she gasped when she saw that she was alone in the room and he had vanished. She walked over to her bed and set the mug of steaming cocoa on the nightstand. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to the pillow. There on her pillow was sprig of holly tied to a candy cane and a note that said,

“I hope you’ll be very good girl in the coming year. I’ll be making my list and checking it twice. Good girls get many presents on Christmas morning.

Merry Christmas!

Love, Santa.”