Indecipherable Scrawlings

Our bodies press together to shut out the cold wind.  An instant fire kindled between us as I lean down to kiss her.  It is fierce, passionate, and very hungry.  We both clearly need more.

Grabbing her hand I head off the trail we'd been following.  Avoiding snow laden branches as I follow the hill down.  Trusting the pines for cover as we slide into a clearing hidden in dead ground.  I toss down my jacket and turn to lift hers before I pull away her belt.  The soft looped leather rounds her wrists as I tie them behind her back.  Turning her back around we share a smiling kiss before I push her down.

She lies back on my coat.  Squirming as I push my fingers up under her shirt, raking my nails gently back down her stomach.  My lips follow, warm kisses combating the airs chilly embrace as I move down.  I unsnap her jeans and tug them off.  I now kiss my way back up.  Tasting strawberry and sweat as the smell of her fill my nose.  My fingers dig in pushing her thighs open.  My lips find her.  My tongue darts in.  Teeth raking along opening lips.  Working my way up till my breath washes over her clit, my mouth slowly descending.

Then she screams.

The handful of snow painfully unexpected and cold.  So very cold...

"You can scream all you want,the neighbors will never hear you."

Of course only after I hit send did I realized that anyone else reading the message might find it slightly...suspicious.

She slowly engulfs me.  Lowering herself just enough to take my head before raising herself up and drawing me along her slit.  A pattern she repeats while enjoying my unaccustomed stillness.  Smiling down at the look of careful control stretched across my face.  Watching my internal battle against the fervent desire to be finally inside her, pure animal lust, and most of all the fundamental desire to simply take things into my hands and bring them to the conclusion I most desire.  But it is a battle I am winning.  There is a beast raging to get loose and consume the delectable morsel teasing me from above, but I put it away, knowing patience will feed the beast more surely then aggression.  My control augmented by the sight of my personal Aphrodite, already sheen with excitement, slowly losing herself to the need with both feel.

Nor is she the only one that knows how to tease.  My hand not keeping myself aligned with her ghosts up her flank, fingers drinking in her silken skin.  Reaching up for the beautiful breasts hanging so tantalizing before me.  She gasps as my nails begin to lightly trace her curves, her reaction making me twitch just inside her.  It is when my fingers brush over her nipples that she loses interest in teasing and lowers herself onto me.  My other hand joins the first as she begins to raise and lower herself.

I let her set the pace as my touching takes on strength.  As she gently rides me I have a good gauge of what draws the best reaction from her.  I follow up more insistently and am rewarded, which only drives her hips to move faster.  Then I join in.  Moving my hips in perfect opposition to hers, still letting her set the pace.  My hands drifting down to support her more directly as careful movements become more frantic.  Growing only more frenzied as strangled moans fit against the gag whose fake cock tickles her throat.  The muscles in her shoulders flex as she struggles against the bonds trapping her arms behind her.  And it is then the rhythm changes.

No longer am cooperating with her.  I am driving her up, my supportive hands dragging her down.  I use my hip to set a beat more appropriate to our moods.  A song of the beast given just a little leash.  But more is needed.

A hand comes up as I sit up, its first explorations guiding it but now it mauls at her tits.  Strong fingers pushing deep into wonderfully yielding flesh taking a nipple pulsing with need between them.  Pinching down as my teeth reach the other.  There is a strangle scream of pleasure as my other hand pins our hips, lust grinding them together more than any command.  The pinning hand caress out over an ass already tender from a more straightforward beginning.  It gently traces sensitive spots and warm impressions it had left behind.  A sensation lost as I nibble and pinch.  Those nibbles become full on bites before I suddenly draw away.  My hand slams across both ravished breasts as a finger sinks to the knuckle in her ass, probing for my throbbing cock through her.  Both hands work together to force her to restart the rhythm, to draw away only to be pulled back.  Her eyes roll back, her face flushed, moans constant as she rides me like an unbroken horse.

Yet at this moment I feel a strange calm, a complete control.  Knowing each movement must be careful, must serve the end I have designed.  That does not mean I am not filled with need.  Burning with desire.  It is just that I know it is the quickest way to slake both as I slide a second finger into her.  Speed I need as control is rapidly slipping away, and there is no way I could think of baseball now.

So I give in and unleash my strength.  Lifting her completely and more impressively myself buried inside her.  Turning her about and slamming her back onto the bed.  One long stroke withdrawing me from her warm and tender embrace and plunging me into another so recently left by my fingers.  I take one stroke to hook her legs then I refill her pussy with my other hand.  And now all is rushing to the end.  Desire and pleasure burn away at carefully shepherded control.  I am no more articulate then her as my body begins to tremble with hers.  Urges piling up to not be ignore.

Bursting forth in a torrent.  Leaving my mind a buzzing field of white.

Only vaguely am I aware that I have fallen.  Somehow managing to disentangle ourselves before collapsing next to her.  My body both afire and completely numb as I gasp for air, even that sound denied by the hammering of my heart in my ears.  It is only the insistent jabbing of duty that reminds me I must clean my hands and undue the restraints.  Managing that herculean task I slump at take her into exhausted arms.

As we drift into an exhausted sleep I murmur into her messy hair, "See?  I told you I'd let in you be in charge for once."

It feels strangely sacrilegious to take such silken flesh beneath the coarse callouses of my hands.  The delicate curve fitting almost perfectly into my hand as the first tentative pressure brings a final lingering gasp.  A light grasp that nevertheless represents a complete blockage to the vainly fluttering lungs.  The panicked heart beats futilely against my ever closing grip, pounding just beneath the velveteen skin as my fingers deepen their desecration.  And yet at this moment of seeming savagery I find myself at my most tender.

I find myself engrossed with her below me.  I see every twitch, spasm, blink.  Watching for the slightest hint of danger, more like an attentive watch dog then the fierce predator my grin emulates.  Her life rests literally in my hand, which like never before feels like a crude instrument even if wielded with consummate skill.  My heart hammers with hers even as I loosen my grip.  Allowing her to fill her lungs as I fill her.  I tighten my grip.  On her, on the simple animal lust that rages against my control.  And it is that control that makes this grip so exciting to us both despite the dangers.

That I can control the desire to break this fragile, precious thing below me.  That she knows I will only hold her so tight no matter how much she begs for more or wishes the dark reminders to last longer.  That I care more for her than my pleasure, or hers.  That every sip of air is not the last no matter how much it seems that way.  A shared illusion turning every breath into a gift.

So much all wrapped in a single act.

I was asked recently what it means to me to have a but of a sadistic side.  After some thought I came up with the below:

"Sometimes I grow tired of being polite, conscientious, and considerate.  Put away the facade of propriety and let loose.  To tear, to bite, to pin, and to overwhelm utterly as I give form to those delightfully dark whispers.  Forcing my deviant desires onto the world.  Taking every inch I can and growling for more.  Indulging that insatiable hunger that quests to do more, try more, take more.  Until every effort is spent and there is only the soft exhausted buzzing fluttering about my mind and she is nothing but a quivering inarticulate mess of ravished satisfaction.

That and I'm very fond of how most bottoms react to my hand hitting them in a variety of ways."

I was talking over role play (the kinky kind) experiences with a friend recently.  Between us we had done most of the usual things; doctor, gladiator, interrogator, etc and enjoyed them.  Eventually the conversation meandered to things we wouldn't feel comfortable doing and I brought up an idea myself and an ex had been working on.  One in which I'd play the dark wizard with a maiden strapped to an altar ready to be sacrificed to bring about a dark god.  A nice large pentagram, some candles, and a suitably dark basement would complete the scene nicely.  A scene I had completely rejected.

My friend was confused by this, it sounded like a lot of fun to him.  Until that is I explained my reasoning:

Because that is how horror movies start.

Its the only day of the year you can leave the whips and chains lying around and people will think you're a sharp decorator instead of sexual deviant.

My fingers trace along your chin in a tender caress that finally settles about your throat.  Gentle pressure holding you loosely against the wall as my lips find your ear, whispering tantalizing questions. The pressure growing on your throat as you explain exactly why you're here.  An answer whose sincerity I doubt, demonstrated by my suddenly vice like grip.  Forcing in air you do your best to convince me.  Strangled shouts that you're here to be my plaything, my toy, my personal whore as I slowly squeeze off your air.

Satisfied my hands disappear.  Replaced by the sound of tearing cloth.  I rip open your top and strip off your bra. Using it loops to loosely bind your wrists behind your back. Then I'm shoving you down, grinding you along the wall until your butt smacks the floor. My fingers digging into your head, holding it perfectly in place as I free my cock.  My head enters you mouth, pushing deeper as I swell.  Each thrust goes further as I seemingly try and drive my rod through you and into the wall.  Making you gag.  Futilely squirming against immovable pressure.  Until I finally cum on your face.

Then I'm dragging you up.  Carrying you bodily across the room.  Tossing you onto the polished wood of the table. Your pants are stripped away, panties torn apart. One hand winds through you hair, yanking sharply back to force your head up. Forcing you to look into the mirror fogging under your breath. To stare into your own flushed, cum coated, and tear stained face. Watch as you yelp as my free hand smacks into your ass.  See the pleasure and pain chasing themselves across your face.  Stare in amazement as you lips part only to say one word, 'harder.'  A request I happily comply with.

My arm swing up and down.  I choose my spots well.  Making small groups, skipping back and forth, slamming down in regular blows.  Sometimes lingering, digging my fingers deep into your flesh.  Sometimes offering a sensual caress after a vicious blow.  Variety that never allows you to settle even before my fingers slip between your thighs.  Attention that ensure all your cheeks are burning and flushed before I move behind you.  Letting my naked hip brush against your raw behind I also slide along your slit.  Rubbing my length along you, pushing between your folds.  Our grinding hips never letting your forget my ferocious assault even as I take a new tact to torturing you.  Long, luxurious passes that tease your sex already alight with desire.  I hold you head back with one hand, my other now pins you against the desk.  In the mirror I smile at your feeble struggle and sudden invocation of exactly what I should do.

Still I move slowly.  Enjoying myself.  Easing into you.  Inch by inch.  Centimeter by centimeter.  Taking my sweet time.  Exploring every change, every spot that makes your face change or you squeeze tighter around me.  Slowly pushing deeper even as you cry out for me just to fuck you.

And slowly, ever so slowly I give in.  My smile becomes a growl.  I want this.  I want to slam you into the table.  To drive deep into you.  To feel you writhe and tremble beneath me, the desperate quivering around me.  I want to claim this.  Mark it.  Pound it into a more perfect form that is truly all mine.  And I do.

My fingers raking along your back.  My hips hammering into you.  The force pushing your face into the mirror.  Harder and faster until it seems something will break.  Then your weightless, floating and still being pounded.  My hand leaves your hair, snaking around to your throat.  You find yourself pushed back into me, atop me, watching yourself be jack hammered in the mirror.  I bite, my growl reverberating through your shoulder.  My fingers do not so much rub as smack at your clit in the frantic fucking.  My teeth move along your neck, snap at your ear, my breath washes over you.  The two of us are reduced to moaning, growling, mewling animals driven only by lust.  Only dimly are you aware of anything beyond me filling you, slamming into you.  Until I roar one word into you ear.

Cum

"I've decided to go as a demon."  I announced happily.

My sub did not seem impressed, "Hardly original."

"Oh come on, I think I'll make an excellent demon."

"How so?"

"Well by the end of the night you'll be screaming for god to stop me."

I found an old box of dog stuff recently.  Old toys, leashes, and the like that I thought might be useful to the local pet shelter.  So I took it down and handed it over to a volunteer who started sorted out gems from the junk.  It was towards the bottom that they found a choke collar that was nothing more than a set of thick, unvarnished rough steel links that looked heavy enough for a grizzly.  Dull and obviously brutal.

They looked at it for a second and hesitantly asked, "Did you do a lot of work with aggressive dogs?"

"God no, I'd never use that on a dog."  I said taking the heavy chain, "Its an old girlfriends and I'll have to get it back to her."

"Oh."  The volunteer looked relieved then quizzical, "...did she work with aggressive dogs?"

"Nope."  I gave them a bright smile and promptly exited before any more questions could be asked.