Wicked Writer Blog

This is something a little different. It's a piece I wrote a LONG time ago, before I had any sort of schooling or understanding of how stories worked. It's essentially a journal entry, a rough piece that retells my experience down in Nola one night.I have begun the process of a rewrite, and I will continue the rewrite and update as I progress... however, I found the stark contrast in styles interesting and thought I would throw it up here, to show my growth as a writer, but also so how the little details and such give a deeper level than the blocky as-a-matter-of-fact, tell it like it style I originally wrote it in. It might be awful, there are some cringe worthy parts for sure, but hopefully I can clean it up and perhaps entertain. Thanks for reading!

There had only been a few side-eye glances and awkward smiles from across the bar before Daphne had made her way over. I immediately had pegged her as a fun one, this perpetual ball of energy and fun that bounced about the bar engaging and enticing all manner of admirers. Her friend Sabrina was far more the conservative type, whose boundaries I had imagined limited her to missionary and an occasional drunken blow job. It was her and I who had exchanged the glances and looks. She had been too shy to approach me and at first very distant. The more we spoke and drank, the more she opened up. She was an articulate and thoughtful girl, skinny with long legs and cropped auburn hair. Her best feature by far was her stomach that was revealed just enough from under her halter-top good idea of how flat and tone it was.

“I was Air Force,” she had said.

“We both were,” Daphne interjected.

“No shit,” I responded. “I’m stationed on the coast.”

“Cool beans,” Sabrina.

“Cool beans?!” Daphne cried out just before letting out this obnoxious snort. “Who says that anymore?”

Daphne was definitely the adventurous type. At first she had acted as the go between Sabrina and I. Daphne was an exotic brunette who lit up the room and made every man stop and take a second look. Her young nubile body screamed sex, right down the thong she wore that had the word “WHORE” emblazoned on it.

“I might have to test that out,” I said. I regretted it immediately. Too eager, I thought.

“Don’t tempt her,” Sabrina chimed in. Burn. Was that a hint of jealousy I sensed?

Having been the instigator I knew Daphne was bold and likely more open than her coed friend. She was a girl who exuded confidence and obviously was very focused on what she wanted. Everything about her made her desirable; from her Gina Gershon-esque lips, up to her deep blue eyes, and back down to her round firm ass. Every inch of her toyed and played with my imagination.

I couldn’t shake Sabrina though. Those shy smiles and her awkwardness made her endearing in ways I could never find Daphne endearing. Daphne is the friend for a night, whereas Sabrina was perhaps more.

After several drinks and a misadventure walking into the wrong bathroom Sabrina had begun to loosen up. And though it had been right under my nose the whole time I finally realized they were sort of together. I didn’t question their dynamic or intent. I had learned long ago to just go with it.
I spent the next twenty or so minutes just watching the two girls dance and do shots. Sweaty and breathing hard, Sabrina came and grabbed me and led me across the dancefloor. At first, I thought she wanted to dance and I was about to shake her off when she pushed me. I fell into the darkness and found myself being guided down by Daphne.

“Just go with it,” she said. I nodded in the affirmative.

Sabrina was loose. Sabrina was wired. She danced up to the edge of the booth we were seated in and parted my legs. She danced for me. Moving to the rhythm of the music, yet with just a twinge of awkwardness. It was the awkwardness that drew me in. Those little looks to see if I liked what I saw. Reaffirmation that she was pleasing. She was very pleasing.

I felt Daphne’s soft delicate hands run their way up my back, to my neck and then the back of my head. Her hands turned firm and she guided my head around. Our mouths me and her tongue invaded mine.

“Just go with it,” she repeated.

Sabrina had turned and dipped down, she ground her ass into my crotch. No doubt gauging what sort of impact she was having. I didn’t disappoint. Daphne reached over and began to encourage Sabrina with quick sharp slaps to her ass.

by We settled into a booth off to the side of the dance floor. . It was my first experience with two bi-sexual girls at once and at first I was understandably nervous yet excited by the possibilities, but as the minutes ticked I just began to enjoy the show and appreciate the beauty of two amazingly great looking girls throwing away their inhibitions and allowing their animalistic instincts to completely take over.
Immediately I had begun to get excited from watching them. It was almost voyeuristic in a sense, a twist on the normalcy I had been accustomed to in the small city I grew up in. I think that it turned them on even more that I was getting into it and it began to reflect in their performance. Everything about her made her desirable, and it was one of the most incredible things watching her go to work on her feisty red headed counterpart. My rod was rock hard from watching, and it soon became apparent that I was not the only one enjoying the show. Nearby a group of frat boy automatons sat admiring the view. They clamored to get a better view and soon a chorus of boyish chants rang out. Daphne rose up and looked over to the adjacent table and then headed south. Her tongue traced the curve along Sabrina's ever sloping and tightly formed stomach. Daphne being an exhibitionist rose to the occasion and began slipping Sabrina's short tight skirt down her silky smooth thighs.
For a brief moment time seemed to stand still as I waited in anticipation for Daphne's next act. Sabrina glanced towards me and we held a lustful gaze for several moments. In her eyes I didn't see the look of that same timid young girl who could barely muster the courage to approach me. Something had changed in those brief minutes following our encounter. As Daphne sank ever deeper into the booth Sabrina's eyes lit up, she lurched back and was overcome with the sensation of the hot moist tongue penetrating her inner sanctum. She reeled to the left and clutched my arm. The shock was overwhelming and before I knew it I had been pulled nearly on top of Daphne who was now working at a feverish pace. Her body had slid underneath the table and her head was lodged between the creamy white thighs of her best friend.
I struggled to maintain my balance and keep from crushing Daphne whose upper body rested on the seat below me. I braced my self against Sabrina's waifish frame. My hand rested on her small perky breast, but it was soon apparent that she could not comfortably support my weight. I inched closer careful not to interrupt the work already in progress. My hand trembled as I removed it from Sabrina's peak. I slowly guided it up her neck and across the contours of her peeked flesh. The thought of this girl willingly giving herself up to this was exciting. Many thoughts raced through my head but one in particular stood out, this girl wanted to be fucked and she wanted to be fucked hard. All my anxiousness ceased and I found I was no longer nervous. I was back where I liked to be, I was in charge. I gently guided my hand to the nape of her neck then slowly closed my fist around her long hair. I tugged just enough to get her attention and break her from her dazed state. She stared at me longingly. Red hues were sprayed across her face. Her skin was hot to the touch. I gently pulled her toward me. She offered no resistance at all and flashed me an approving smile. I stopped just inches before our lips were to meet. I held her in anticipation for several moments and watched excitedly as she moistened her lips with her tongue. I leaned in to her; she predictably closed her eyes and awaited the payoff that never came. I leaned back and watched a pleading look cross her face. I'm sure she was wrought with all sorts of emotions. Did she like to be teased? Should I end this charade? She had submitted her self to the will of Daphne and me. Whatever we wanted she to do was ours for the asking. I once again leaned in; I ran my tongue along her quivering lips and slowly parted her lips before I eased my tongue into her mouth. The sensation was electric. My member began to throb and I could hear my heart beat begin race. A massaging sensation began to dominate my lower extremity. The motion soothed me and intensified the feeling. As I began to withdraw I could feel Sabrina go limp, she had a look of supreme ecstasy wrapped across her beautiful face. As she layer back against the booth wall I glanced down to the exotic Daphne who was gently rubbing the existing bulge in my pants. A sly smile erupted from her and she pushed herself out from under the table and up towards me. Our mouths met half way and we exchanged a passionate kiss on the level of something I had never experienced before. The moment was momentous and branded me for life with an appreciation for experimental brunettes.
As things between Daphne and I began to heat up she suggested that we head to their room, "It's only a few blocks away." She said. After a little convincing I agreed to go. To the dismay of the Frat boys seated just feet from us the show was now officially over. I had a feeling of satisfaction as the frat boys watched me walk out of the bar with two beautiful bi-sexual women. Any man lives for that moment.

The hotel was not far from the lounge. However the walk was an agonizing one for me. I loved strolling through the streets hand in hand with two vixens but the anticipation was killing me. As we walked through the foyer of the hotel the feeling was almost unbearable. When the doors to the elevator slammed shut I pulled Daphne against me. I began tonguing the back of her earlobe and placed her hand on my now hard shaft. I moved her hand up and down against my groin while I slid my right hand around her waist and into her pants. As I pushed deeper into her world my index finger soon found her moist insides. I could feel her tremble a bit as I pushed the tip of my finger into her. Just as I prepared for a deeper insertion the elevator door sprung open revealing one of the hotels bell-boys. Embraced I immediately withdrew my hand and we began to move out of the elevator. Fortunately the room was not far.
As soon as we were in I sat down in a chair near the rear side of the room. Sabrina stretched out across the bed. Her skirt rose up just enough for me to steal a glimpse at her moist panties. I looked to Daphne and she sent me a seductive smile. She walked over to the mini-fridge and produced a bottle of wine. She slowly made her way towards me. She climbed onto my lap and began opening the wine. She took one sip then tipped it just enough for me to catch the cool liquid in my mouth. After I swallowed she leaned down and began kissing me deeply. My hands roamed free under her blouse and soon I was able to begin unbuttoning it. The sweet scent of her perfume filled the air as I exposed the flesh of her chest. I gently kissed her and eased up to unsnap her bra. It folded back with remarkable ease and her fleshy mounds were now mine for the nibbling. I filled my mouth with her breast as she moved her hands down to unbuckle my belt and release my man hood. I grabbed her hips and guided her to a more stable position. Her weight against my cock was almost unbearable. She slid back and then down to the floor. I quickly removed my shirt as her fingers pushed through the button on my pants. She cast me a childish look as she began to gently unzip my zipper. Before long I was in nothing but my boxers. As she slipped my boxers off I watched Sabrina begin to slip her panties down her long ivory legs and expose her fiery red bush. I smiled and then glanced down at Daphne who was busy marveling at my rod. "You're not going to become shy now are you?" I asked. She nodded assuring and replied, "No."
She took my cock into her hand and began to caress it ever so gently. She playfully kissed the head and then moved her tongue down along its flank. Daphne continued down and began licking my cock at its base. She lifted it up and tickled my balls with her tongue and placed one in her mouth. The feeling was beyond description. And as I looked her over a thought came to me. When I first saw this girl in the bar I never dreamed I would be invited up to her hotel let alone have her sucking on my cock. I decided then I would push my luck. As Daphne continued to suck on my manly member I looked over at Sabrina. Who by now had her fingers deep in her cunt. She was watching Daphne's face slide up and down my rod. "Crawl over here." I ordered. Sabrina was quick to comply. She sat up and crawled off the bed in my direction. As she closed in she stopped and removed her blouse. Her 34 c breast rubbed against my legs as she crawled and took up position next to Daphne. I watched in amazement as Daphne inhaled my limb and pushed it deep into her throat. The sight of two gorgeous chicks between my legs was surreal. As Daphne eased off my rod I motioned for Sabrina to suck it. She toyed with it at first bending I back and then she began to put the head in her mouth. She giggled at first then began to suck it. I pushed her head down gently and thrust my hips to ease it deeper into her mouth. A gag reflex erupted from her. "Too deep I asked?" She noddingly agreed. "Take it a lil at a time." Daphne instructed.
After a sip of wine Sabrina was ready to make another attempt. As she eased my fleshy member into her mouth I leaned back and allowed my self a moment to fully experience the sensation. Soon my cock was sliding effortlessly in and out of her beautiful mouth. It is a sight forever etched in my memory.
I was overcome by awe as I lay there pondering a thousand thoughts to. Every ounce of my being felt like it had ascended to another plane of existence. I was fulfilled. As I rolled over the two girls giggled playfully like two angelic beings part of some master plan. I felt lucky to have tasted and experienced them and knew this was not the last time our paths would meet, and as fate would have it there would be many more.

The Prey

Unsuspecting eyes dart past me
and then return.
Gazes held, a moment of uncertainty
gives way to recognition.
She knows my intent.
Twisted thoughts wrapped
within pangs of desire.
The deep dark hollow
that beats in the recess of my chest quickens.
Primal instincts heighten.
The prey takes flight.
It's the thrill of the chase
we both enjoy.
The uncertain certainty that she will be mine.
Bound, splayed, and open to whatever desires
I wish to visit upon her.
My world. My rules.
She slows. Weary of the chase.
Resigned to what's to come.

I want to use you. To take you and have my way with you. I want to put you on your knees and do to you all the things the guys before were afraid to do. I want to own you. To possess you to the point that every breath you take has you wanting to ask permission. I want to be your first waking thought, and be the last thing you think of as you drift off to sleep at night. I want you to be my sub, my slave, and my lady when desired. I want to parade you in public. All class. All the while belying you’re true nature. Are you a lady? Or are you a whore? You are what I wish you to be and nothing more. I want to domesticate you. Dress you up like the women in those old 50’s shows. Only this isn’t Hollywood. This is real life. I want you to be my rock. The base for all my kinky perversions. You are my tapestry. My greatest creation. You are mine.

My first time was a threesome. It was the perfect storm of alcohol, bad intentions, and my ability to read and push things. Looking back, of course it was about fucking two chicks at once, but over time that singular event galvanized in me a desire to break away from the pack and do something different. It instilled in me the confidence to take what I want, and not shy away from situations that could offer a unique experience. I became about the experience. Pushing things to the edge. By the time I was 18 I had lived out many dreams men spend a lifetime trying to fulfill. Babysitter, teacher, twins, hot MILF, and the list goes on.

Like distant memories each event lives on inside me. I can see vividly white flesh on brown as the events of my first time play out in my head. Each girl riding me and the awkward transition that followed. I remember that heart shaped mole on the teacher’s inner thigh while I clumsily tried to slip on a condom, before finally saying “fuck it” and going in raw. Those events helped fashion me into what I have become, and what I continue to grow into.
The most common question I get asked is, “How long have you been dominant?” To me dominance is like breathing. It’s as much a part of me as my arm, leg, or mini-me (not that it’s all that mini.) Those events I mentioned were brought about because of my nature, a byproduct of that dominance. Another byproduct was the path that was made up of all these events that led me to become a Dom.

These days any loudmouth fuckboy can be a Dom. My inbox is littered with horror stories about these guy’s blowing up women like they already own them. Like these women don’t have a choice? It’s all about choice dipshit. It’s sad really. I remember D/s when you had to actually put some effort into learning about it, and not just pull a label off of a website because it looks cool and you’re into kinky sex.

Don’t get me wrong, kinky sex is great, but to me sex is just a tool. just one of the many ways a Dom exerts control over a sub, and to relegate yourself to just that one avenue to me is a bit myopic. Society today tends to breed myopia though, so perhaps the potential pool is getting flooded with shallow posers and predatory opportunists looking for a quick score.

I probably shouldn’t be so harsh. The thing is, being dominate is a subjective thing. Anyone can be legitimately called a Dom, because there’s always someone naïve enough to buy into a title. It’s what you do with that title that really matters though. To me, being a Dom, is far deeper than being in control and issuing orders. It’s about respect and responsibility. It’s about being that voice in the back of a subs mind. The voice that overrides her conscience. It’s about imprinting on another individual your particular likes, needs, and dislikes and having them do their best to fulfill them.

It’s an awesome feeling to be in control on that level. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s what subs feel when they are servicing, only in reverse. The human mind is a fascinating organ, one capable of such amazing feats and equally impressive debauchery. I intend to keep filling mine with epic experiences while continuing to learn and grow.

leather snaps and cracks against her back.
the sub recoils and relishes the sting
before another strike finds it's mark.
torturous glee leads to an impassioned plea.
More.

I never had normal sex in high school. I isolated myself as a teen because I couldn't "go with the flow." I was grunge kid, when all my friends wanted to be thugs. I wore flannel and holey jeans and rocked out to Nirvana, when my friends were wearing baggy pants and rapping to Biggie. It got to a point where I didn't really click with the cool kids, yet I wanted a bit more status than what being a geeky kid offered. This caused me to be a bit of a tweener. All through high school, I was cool enough to have the cute popular girls come over and fuck, but I wasn't quite cool enough to be seen in the quad with or go on dates. This created a lot of confusion.

The nature of my "status" led to me not creating any sort of attachments. Any time I came close to liking someone, either I would suddenly lose all interest because of the nature of our relationship, or because they wanted someone seen as cooler. My detachment led to some of my earliest Dom experiences. Many of these experiences happened because I knew they wanted me and I was able to barter to get my way.

One such instance was my first time. It was actually a threesome. We were young and stupid and thought it was a good idea to skip school and get drunk. We were all lying in bed, my girlfriend at the time making out and petting each other. My other friend, now I know her type to be submissive, but back then I just knew she would do whatever I wanted. She was a bit reluctant when I told her to undress, but she did it without uttering a word. She was even more reluctant when I told her to blow me. Of course she complied.

What I learned from my first time, was that I enjoyed directing and giving orders. I also learned that I liked watching those orders followed through. Many years later, I was out one night and ran into that submissive girl again. She had moved off and had come back into town for the holidays and was out with her friends (several of which were the ones that had thought themselves better than me in high school). She and I wound up going to a dive bar together and talking. After many drinks the conversation turned to our first time, and the other sexual experiences we had with each other. By this time, I was fully aware of my dominant tendencies and had started to explore them. She confided in me that was some of the best sex she had ever had, and proceeded to hint that she wanted more. She informed me that her friends were already at home and that I was responsible for her well being.

At this point I asked her if she truly knew what she was asking. Playing coy she smiles and takes a sip of her wine.

"Take your panties off," I whispered in her ear.

She looks at me with that same reluctant look I had seen many years before.

"Right here?" she asked "Or can I go to the bathroom?"

"Right here's fine," I say.

After a quick look around she pushes close to the bar and slips them off. Unsure what to do with them she clutches them in her hand, carefully trying not to expose any part of them for others to see.

"Sit on them," I ordered.

She complied, unsure the significance of what I was telling her.

I look to the bartender and tell him to close my tab out. He gives me a slight nod along with a sliver of a smile. He had seen what was going on and knowing me, knew what I was doing.

As we got up to leave she instinctively reached for her panties. I caught her hand.

"No," I said. "Leave them."

She complied.

Later on, she laid at the foot of the bed exhausted. Several times she had started to ask a question. I had wanted her to verbalize it. To form the words and speak her thoughts. She wasn't used to having to be direct. I liked that a simple idea could make her squirm. I liked seeing her olive tone cheeks darken and her look away. She dare not look me in the eyes.

Finally, she shook herself to, and turned to look directly at me. "What's the deal with my panties," she asked in a forceful and rehearsed manner then quickly cast her look away.

"It had nothing to do with the panties at all," I offered. "It was more about seeing if you would do as you were told."

She smiled, looked back and me and cocked her head. "But why?"

"Easy," I said. "I wanted press you a bit. See how you responded. I wanted you to linger in the unnatural feeling of not having your panties."

"You were testing me?" she said through a giggle. "All of it?"

"All of it," I confirmed.

I let the thought play in her mind. I don't think it fully clicked for her. I wasn't going to connect the dots or explain any further.

"Did you like it?" I asked.

She gave me a sly smile.

"I did," she said in a hushed tone that just barely audible. "I feel like you opened a door or something."

"Or something..." I said.

As a Dom, I feel we learn best when we are challenged. Some of the greatest experiences of my life have come when I have been pressed to do something I was unsure of. For her, a women whose life had been filled with boring and mundane sex, I pushed open a door that she had been searching for. I gave her acceptance of those deep dark thoughts she had when it was just her and her imagination. I showed her the pleasure that can come from straying outside of what's considered the norm. For one night she was my sub, but it's one night that fundamentally changed her outlook on sex.

Muffled cries bleed out
through a lust soaked pillow.
White thighs flash and shimmer
as she struggles and lurches forth.
Burying herself deeper.
Fear gives way to anticipation,
and nervousness to acceptance.
She steals herself,
and submits.
Relishing the simple words,
"Good Girl."

The last time I had seen Mira we were both drunk out of our mind and she was complaining about her knees. It was one of those drunken trysts that carried over from the club. We were on our way to the after hours bar just outside of the city limits. Things were hot and heavy in the back of my friends car as he drove us to our destination. Mira had always been a bit coy, and though I had her many times, it was never a guarantee. She liked to toy, tease, and be chased. I didn’t chase, so that typically led to many nights of frustration for both of us.

That was what was in my head as I pulled back. Two could play that game. I distanced myself a bit as she continued to rub the bulge in my pants and try to chase me across the backseat.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

“Just seeing what you’re going to do about it,” I responded as I gently nodded to my groin.

“Here? Now?”

“If not now, when?”

“No, because you never know when to stop,” she whispered. “I always wind with a mess in my pants.”

“So?” I countered.

“So?! You try acting normal with a fresh sticky batch in your crotch,”

We both cracked up at that thought of our last encounter which had been in a cramped closet at a convention center where we were attending a formal Mardi Gras gala. She had looked particularly stunning in a floor length black dress. I had no choice but to pull the “Anything I want” card. A card I earned while playing a game we had concocted with the results being that the winner got to bend the loser to their will. In this case that meant a closet, her dress hiked up above her waist, and me depositing a load. It was extremely gratifying watching her all fancied up, yet all the while knowing what just occurred in the closet.
She had always been mine. She could play the brat, try to be Alpha, but in the end she always wound up on her knees or on her back. And that’s where she found herself now. My friend had parked the car and headed on in. Mira had broken away and started to make her way to towards the bar before finally relenting and returning.

“I’ll blow you, but you’re not fucking me.”

“Agreed,” I said.

Mira stood framed by the car door and begrudgingly dropped down to her knees. I shifted around so that she was positioned between my legs.

“But you’re swallowing,” I offered.

“You know I ca-“ she started. “Oh, nevermind.”

She tugged at my jeans and slid them down. She lightly kissed my stomach before she ran her hand up my abdomen and pushed me back onto the seat. I felt the warmth of her mouth engulf my cock. It throbbed mercilessly as she went to work. Slow and steady at first, before she started to methodically nibble and work the shaft with her tongue.

“Sit on it,” I commanded.

She stood up and turned away. She cast me a sly smile before unbuckling her belt and with a quick shimmy dropped her pants. She obliged my request using the car door to provide leverage. She rocked back and forth allowing my cock to slide out of her vagina just enough to where rentry created just the right amount of friction. I had trained her well. Too well.

She quickened her pace, the sensation plus the visual of her porcelain white ass bouncing up and down my cock, brought me near climax. Before I could even utter the words to let her know, she had spun around and caught me in her mouth. I unleashed with an electric fury and grabbed the hair on the back of her head so she couldn’t escape it. I held her there for several moments until I started to go limp. I released and she melted back and firmly planted her bare ass on the pavement. I didn’t move.

Still in various states of undress she crawled atop me and just laid there. We heard some chatter near by.

“You think anyone saw us?” she asked.

“Probably,” I offered.

Mira gave me a quick jab to the gut.

“What?!” I said.

“Someone saw us?”

“So,” I countered. “Maybe she's hot and we could invite her to join in.”

“You’re such a perv.”

We laid there for several moments. The chatter had died down and Mira crawled back into the night. I could her belt buckle jingle as she readied herself to go in. Reluctantly I joined her and we made our way inside.

“I want a shot,” Mira stated as she girlishly whirled around in front of me before losing her balance. I caught her and pulled her close.

“You just had one," I whispered.

“Fuck you,” Mira said as she spun away. She laughed and caught her self on the car. “You know what I mean.”

I leaned in and with my thumb I wiped the corner of a lip.

“You’re such a whore,” I said with a smile.

“I have my moments,” she offered “but my fucking knees are killing me.”

The Doll is laid upon her stage.

A posh setting of plush pillows

and satin. She's too large for a shelf,

but small enough for play.

The Doll's eyes are forever watchful,

yet remain fixated above.

A black spaghetti strap dress hangs

loose upon her waifish frame.

Cutting a stark contrast against

her procelain skin. The Maker

adjusts her head slightly and applies

a Peach Passion lipstick.

He kisses her gently.

This Doll's mouth tastes nothing of plastic or latex,

but rather flesh and honey.

The Maker watches her for a moment,

appreciating and admiring his prize,

before leaning in and pushing

the black dress straps away.

@wicked.writer