May 17, 2013
Anticipation
Hey all, just so you know I am writing again. Some stuff I’ll be submitting for anthologies, some stuff I’ll be putting up here, and some other stuff. I’m trying to build up a buffer before I go for a regular publishing schedule again, but in the mean time please enjoy the Anticipation.
“Okay, if I win this game, I’ll lock torture you and lock your cock up. If I don’t win, I’m going to play another game.”
“You’re serious?”
She looked at him, nodded, and went back to flicking across the screen.
“Well, shit. Are you winning now?”
“No, but it’s really close.”
“Can I help?” He started to stand up.
“No, then I wouldn’t have won the game on my own.”
He sat back down.
“Fuck.” She stabbed at the screen.
He sighed. “Did you lose?”
“Not yet.” She kept glancing over at him, frowned. “Go ahead and take your clothes off, and get me a glass of ice water.”
He shuffled off his clothes, kicked them into the corner, and walked into the kitchen. Filled a glass half full of ice, and added water. He imagined the ice tracing lines of cold pain across his body, would her hot breath go before or after those frigid trails? Would they disappear up his ass one by one, that horrible sensation of numbing cold from the insight out and violation? Or something else, something they hadn’t tried? Did she just want them to make his cock soft, so it would be easier to get the cage on? Were they punishment, or reward?
He padded back to her side, sat the glass of water down and tried to see the score over her shoulder-
“Coaster.”
He sighed, reached over and pulled out a coaster, hoping for a playful slap on the ass.
“Thank you.” She juggled her phone in one hand, took a sip, and put it back down. “Go, sit. You’re hovering. It’s a distraction.”
He walked back across the room, aware of his nudity, the slight breeze from the heater running across his skin.
She stared at the screen, stretched a leg. He swallowed hard, imagined chasing her boots back and forth, his tongue stretched out, following her foot like a marionette, jerked along by imaginary strings attached to the black leather. Spit rolling out the corners of his mouth, saliva running down his skin. The taste, smell, feel of the leather on his tongue.
She balanced her phone, scratched the back of her leg, tucked her foot under her other leg, and went back to the game.
He leaned back, watched her play, smiled slightly as the expression on her face changed back and forth from a frown of concentration to a grin and back.
She took a drink, swallowed hard as the ice swirled around the glass, and put it back on the coaster.
The skin of her throat rose and fall, he remembered being on his knees with her spitting mouthfuls of cold water on his hot, stinging skin. The rush of sensation, the cold that was a relief at first, and then another kind of pain.
Her spitting on him, forcing his mouth open and spitting down his throat, calling him a cheap whore. Warm spit hitting his face, her fingers rubbing across it, smearing it around, over, into his features, drying and turning his flesh sticky.
Her fingers slid across the phone, twitching back and forth. Email and text messages had played major parts in the long distance relationship, and he had often imagined what she looked like as they swapped messages back and forth. What was she wearing when he texted for permission to eat breakfast? Was she masturbating when she reminded him that his cock was locked up, and how many days before he would see her, to beg for it to be unlocked?
Then the fucking, her writhing under him, him clenching muscles to keep from cumming, panting and gasping as she moaned in ecstasy, cumming. Then being locked up without orgasming, ordered down to all fours like an animal.
Her fingers sliding in his ass, milking his prostrate, the hot burning sensation of her forcing the cum out of his cock, pooling at the tip and running out the plastic cage. The humiliation of cleaning it from the floor with his tongue, licking each bitter drop and swallowing.
She stretched her legs, arching her back and pushing out her breasts, still staring intently at the screen. His lips twitched at the thought of kissing between them, licking her nipples, alternatively biting and sucking along the base of each. Remembering the sounds she would make, moans and sighs, before pushing his face down between her legs, holding him there while he flicked his tongue and sucked on her clit.
Holding his breath as her legs clamped tightly around his head, holding him there as her hips thrashed and rolled.
His cock twitched and he shifted his legs, looking down. Looking back up, he saw her looking at him and grinning. Her head jerked back down to the screen, then at him, and she her shoulders bunched up as she laughed.
“Did you win?”
She set the phone down on the table, and took another drink. “Yes. About five minutes ago. Since then I’ve just been looking at shoes and watching your face. My advice is never take up professional poker as a hobby, because whatever you’re thinking is all over your face. And you’ve been thinking some very dirty thoughts, naughty boy.”
He blushed, and licked his lips. Thought about arguing the point, then shrugged and let it go. He didn’t mind anyway. “Congratulations on your latest triumph. Did you still want to…” He left the question hanging in the air between them.
She let it hang a little longer, then nodded. “Yes, I do. But first, I think I want you to come over here and tell me all those nasty things you were thinking about. We might even do some of them, if you’re very good.”
She turned the volume down on her phone, then took a long drink and set the glass back down. The ice clinked, and he noticed there was no water left in the glass, just cold shining cubes.
He walked over to her, wondering what she would do with them when he told her what he was thinking, and just how much she could read on his face.
Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.
March 11, 2013
Menagerie
“Hm, what are you?” She pushed his face with small fingers, smooshing and distorting his features. The small horizontal line at the top of her nose appeared and her eyes narrowed. “Someone said that to carve an elephant, you just take a piece of marble and cut off all the pieces that don’t look like an elephant.”
He forced his hands to remain at his sides, trying to figure out when to hold his head still against the pressure and when to let her move it back and forth. “I think my peanut allergy makes me not an elephant, ma’am…”
She half-smirked, but her eyes didn’t lose their focus. “Tell me then. Tell me what kind of animals you think you might be, while I play with my cunt and see which one makes he hottest.”
He licked his lips, staring while she started rubbing her slit. “I’m… I might be a… dog ma’am?”
She wriggled her shoulders and settled farther back. “Details. What’s a dog like, pet?”
His weight shifted as his mind moved in different directions. “It’s kept on all fours by a humbler ma’am, with a collar and leash around its neck. It eats out of a bowl on the floor, and it has a tail it wags when its owner comes home, and licks her boots…”
“And when its bad?” Her fingers started to move faster.
“It has a muzzle put on, so it can’t lick your cunt, and it has to drink from the toilet, and it sleeps in a cage.”
“Interesting. What else might you be?”
He tried to think, focus on her cunt, and ignore his cock twitching and the pain in his knees all at the same time. “A cat ma’am, with a bell on its collar, and its cock locked up. With ears and a tail, and its cocked locked up. It’s only allowed to lick…”
He swallowed hard as she slid two fingers up and insider herself.
“Keep going.”
“Erm… I might be a pig ma’am, with a pig tail, who eats table scraps off the floor. It gets pissed on, and jerks off for you and your friends-”
“My friends too?”
“Yes ma’am, it wears a pig mask and jerks off for you and-”
She started rubbing faster. “How is your jerking off supposed to make us hot?”
His hips twitched involuntarily. “It jerks off but isn’t allowed to cum until it gets permission, and oinks and squeals to and does tricks until its allowed to come, and then begs to lick its filth off the floor…”
Her legs locked, and her body shuddered.
He leaned closer, and swallowed hard.
She smiled and leaned in closer as well. “What kind of animal are you?” She shoved her fingers in his mouth as he opened it, rubbing her wet fingers on his tongue. “It was rhetorical that time. I’m going to tell you what kind of animal you are.”
Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.
January 25, 2013
A Little Further, A Little Longer
Her boot pressed down on the back of his skull, driving it into the floor. She watched his face roll from side to side, imagining his hair and skin filling up the tread. Balanced carefully she held him there, listening to his breathing and watching him twitch.
“Such a filthy fucking animal. Let me see your face.”
He rolled over carefully, shifting and rolling his hips, holding his ass up with his legs. Looking up at her with flushed cheeks and licking his lips, swallowing hard.
“You seem uncomfortable.” She had shown him the anal hook first, gloated about how it always got his full attention. Whispered in his ear how he flinched a little and his body posture became a little less aggressive, smaller. Having it pointed out made him self-conscious, and he shrank a little more. When she had tied his wrists to it, told him to keep it in or she would beat his brainless ass raw, he had jerked his hands up pulling it tight into his ass. His eyes were clamped shut until she told him to open them, and told him he was a good boy.
He’d smiled then, built up, and she’d torn him down a little more.
She could still feel the hunger deep inside her, and pushed back against it a little. Let it know she’d feed on him later… his cock driving into her when she had turned him into a mindless animal consumed by lust, or his tongue on her clit when he just another sex toy… later. Soon, but later.
For now he needed to be broken down, so he could be built back up. She had seen it before, knew the tics and movements. When he started passively following along, buying the same groceries every week, eating the same things for lunch. Stopped looking for new experiences and just went to bed early. Shrugged more and talked less.
So she smiled, and told him he had been a good boy and licked the floor clean, getting every crumb of dinner off the floor. And let him lick her boots, worshiping the toe and tracking his tongue along the laces, zig zag from side to side.
His eyes were closed again, and she smiled down, genuine warmth radiating out from her. Some part of him needed this, and so did some part of her. For now, she could wait. For him.
-Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.
January 23, 2013
New Hard Limit
“All I’m saying is it really hurt.” Cosmo Brown was singing Make ‘Em Laugh as they sprawled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them, alternating bites.
She took a handful and put extra salt on it, munched it piece by piece. “You got off easy. I hold back because I don’t want to break you too quickly most of the time.”
He looked offended. “Oh come on, I’m hardier than that. Like we’ve done no warm up before, it hurts, but it’s survivable. You’re not going to break me right away, it takes quite awhile with the stuff you have.”
She looked back at him, and raised an eyebrow. “Hang on a second.” She rubbed salt off her hands with her jeans, and pushed herself off the couch. Went into the bedroom and came back with a small padlock clamped between her thumb and forefinger. “Do you want to see just how quickly I can break you just using this?”
He leaned forward with his eyes narrowed, cautious but curious. “What, shove it into my eye or something?”
The lock moved back in forth in front of him like a watch in the hands of an erratic hypnotist. “Nope, don’t need to. It’ll be safe, sane, and consensual, no permanent damage, I’ll follow all your usual limits, and I’ll respect your safewords. So do you really want to see how quickly I can take you down?” She waited patiently, knowing that he would think not knowing would be worse than whatever she had planned. “Just with this.”
“Okay.” He stood up and started to undress as she walked over to his computer.
“Hey…” His voice was hesitant as she flicked through programs rapidly, quitting them one by one and then shutting down the computer.
She turned to face him as the screen went dark. She reached down and pulled the plug out of the surge protector as he swallowed hard. The lock slipped through a small hole in one of the prongs on the plug, clicked shut, and she dropped it on the floor. “Well? No email, no newsfeeds, no music…”
“I knew I should have kept my CDs…”
She laughed a cold, mirthless chuckle and stretched her arms. “I think I might turn in early, if there’s anything you wanted to tell me before I go to bed, now would be the time. I hope I can remember where I put the key in the morning, I might not be able to find it before I go to work, and then I have to get the oil changed tomorrow…”
His lips pursed, but he nodded. “Fine, you win, I tap out. Red. Please set my computer free ma’am. Although if my phone had a better data plan I could have lasted until morning at least.”
She grinned and slapped his ass as she sauntered by him on her way to the bedroom. “The key’s by the mouse. See you in the morning.”
“See you in the morning.”
Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.
January 21, 2013
Workout
This story is based on an idea from a presentation created by my ma’am, Ava Amnesia. It isn’t available online, but if you’re interested in some of her other presentations they are available here. (NSFW, duh), and you’ll have to click through their adult disclaimer.
She looked back at him and frowned. “Well, I’d love to beat the snot out of you, but I’m tired. I slept like crap last night, and I’ve been dealing with apartment listings all day, so…” She grimaced and trailed off.
“Oh.” He pursed his lips, then nodded. “Okay.”
The tiny line above her nose that warned of a frown appeared. “Beating someone well is a lot more cardio than most people think, let alone the other stuff. I’ll get you a rug sometime, and…” The frown appeared. “Hang on, I just had a thought.”
She flipped open her laptop and started typing. “Come here.”
He stood up and moved behind her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders and reading the screen. “Cardio workout video?”
“Yep.” She clicked through several selections before selecting one, hitting pause, standing, and pulling the chair along behind her and away from the desk. “Make it through the whole workout, and I’ll beat you tonight.”
“In this?” He moved his hands up and down, highlighting his jeans and sweatshirt.
“Take off whatever you want, just get started.” She leered, smirked, then leered again.
He pulled his jeans down, kicked them off, then stood on each sock and pulled them off as well. He kicked the clothes out of the way, and tossed his sweatshirt on the pile. She frowned at his back and picked up his clothes as a bad techno beat started, and he began to swing his arms, moving in time with the video.
She settled back on the couch, watching him follow the motions on the screen awkwardly at first, then settling into a rhythm. As the tape wore on his movements started to become jerkier and more erratic, his breathing harder and louder.
She slipped her pants down and started to rub her slit through her panties, leaning back further and purring as he forced himself to continue moving.
By the time the video clicked off, his chest was heaving and he was covered with sweat. Her own breaths were deeper and throatier, her panties wet and her shirt on the cushion beside her.
He stumbled over to her, rested his hands on his knees, and licked his parched lips. “Fuck that spandex clad video sadist. Give me fifteen minutes and a shower, and I’ll be ready whenever you are.”
She admired his trembling muscles, the legs barely able to support him, the deep breaths from his oxygen depleted lungs, and his flushed, sweaty skin. “Ha! Silly boy.” She stood up and grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging him along behind her. “I’m ready right now.”
Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.
