October 20, 2010

II. Sunday, or The Obligatory Flashback

Posted in stories tagged at 2:14 am by littlesubmissions

He watched her walk up the steps, followed her through the house and sat down on the couch. His eyes slid shut and the lids bounced slightly, in time with his breathing. She flopped down beside him, ran a hand through his hair and listened to him shudder. “You ok with this?”

The corner of his mouth curled up and he nodded. “Yeah. I’m very ok with this.”

Her own mouth curled into a grin and she slammed a fist into his chest, licked her lips and felt his breath come rolling out across her face. “Good. What are you thinking about?”

“Our first scene.”

She punched him again, playfully, and chuckled. “Tell me about it.”
.::.

He watched her from across the room, one of a pair of eyes trying too hard to look disinterested and jaded. It was one of the open dungeon parties, the meet and greet for people who never found anything to talk about at munches, just introduced themselves to a few people and made awkward small talk until they could retreat behind an order of comfort food, leaving early and pleading… whatever. She was standing behind a pale, skinny guy young enough he didn’t have to try to stay thin. Blond hair falling in his eyes while she manhandled him into a frame, slapped his palms against wood and wrapped rope around them, tied them off in quick knots.

He slid his hands into his pockets, tightened them into fists and imagined them immobile. Sat down in a chair by a snack tray and swallowed hard, imagining her boot in his back pushing him against the frame, his face rolling to the side and digging into the polished wood. Dipped a carrot in ranch dressing as she ground vertebrae under her heel, watched skin pull and stretch as his teeth crunched through hard fiber.

He nodded to someone else trying to stand out of the way and went back to watching, swirling the liquid in a can of soda in a circle with one hand while she dragged nails down pale skin, leaving parallel lines that made his back twitch and mouth go dry. He took another drink, wondering if he looked nervous, watched skin bounce under the end of the leather flogger, the lock-toothed grin on her face as she pulled gasps from him. Watched her eyes focus, blocking out the room, everything but the piece of meat she was ruining.

His breath slipped into a rhythm that matched her strokes, inhale on the backhand, exhale on the swing, a soft rush of breath as skin, muscle, and bone stopped leather. The steady slap of painful lust so much like sex, so different, he wondered if it sounded the same when it was echoing through your entire body as it did from across the room. The skinny guy on the frame was grunting, breathing hard, chest rising and falling quickly as she stopped, jerked on the ends of the rope and undid the knots.

He leaned back against the counter as the exhausted body slumped into her. She forced him down to his hands and knees, an animal on the floor beneath her, grinding the toe of her boot down on the fingers of his hand. His knuckles rolled against the countertop in time with the groans and gasps coming from the floor, below where he could see. Her hip shifted and he pushed his knuckles hard against the sterile white finish, she lifted her leg up and he relieved the pressure, releasing his hand.

She was leaning over, and he imagined her shadow looming over him, could feel the pressure of her presence as she brought her hand down, smacking flesh. He watched her make a fist, drive it into skin and wondered what it felt like to want so badly to keep from crashing to the floor, to be terrified of the consequences of even such a momentary weakness. He filled in the movements of her lips with words that promised ecstatic destruction, tried to figure out what she was really saying, wished someone would shut off their damned bad-techno bdsm playlist.

He tried to see her eyes behind her hair as she kept smashing her fists down until he fell, then dropped to her knees, following him down, hissing and laughing that he had nowhere else to go. He could only see her face and shoulders from this side of the counter, could only imagine her knees hitting his forearms, pinning them to the floor, his face trapped in the claustrophobic denim prison of her thighs as she kept up her rhythmic torture of his flesh. Could only imagine his body lying on the floor beneath her, someone else watching him with the same disinterested gaze and envious thoughts he was having.

Could only taste the whimpers on his tongue that never got ripped out of his lips.

She was disembodied, feral, a lust filled grin under jerking and twisting hair that exploded outward with every hard exhalation. His shoulders twitched as he imagined her above him, her fists falling down onto his body, imagined the resistance of ranch dip against another baby carrot pushing his arms to the floor, pinning them there, imagined his teeth grinding against each other in pain as he chewed. He swallowed hard as her breath slowed and she rocked back on her heels, pushing her hair back and talking, laughing and wrapping her arms around her knees. He licked his lips and looked somewhere else, found another scene and pretended to be interested.

“You…” There was a pause until he looked over. A woman picking through cherry tomatoes. “Should take her a bottle of water.”

“Huh?” He took a drink, used the motion to break eye contact. “What?”

“You should take a bottle of water over and offer it to her.” A small hand held the tomatoes over a napkin while she sprinkled salt on them. “Or not. Whatever.” She shrugged and popped a tomato in her mouth.

He looked over to where she was breathing hard and sitting on the floor. “Yeah. OK. Thanks.” He turned to the fridge, pulled a bottle out and started to walk her way while a stranger smiled behind him.

.::.

Her face was scrunched into a half grin, the crease above her nose wondering, making her eyes laugh at a joke she didn’t quite get. “That’s our first scene to you?”

“Yeah.” He smiled back at her.

“You watching me beat someone else and eating carrots, that’s our first scene to you?”

He nodded, shrugged, kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “There was ranch dip too.” He leaned back into the couch and watched her laugh.

“If I’d known you had such low expectations…”

He laughed back and swung his legs over the end of the couch, putting his head in her lap. “OK, then you tell me about our first scene.”

.::.

He pushed her hair back, carefully tucked stray strands behind her ear. The bed shifted and creaked underneath them, his hand sliding up her stomach, fingertips prying the cup of her bra away from her skin. Her lips groaned and his breath hissed. Her foot pushed along the blankets, shoving the cloth into a pile, pulling it tight underneath them, until his hand slipped down to catch the bottom hem of her shirt. She felt his weight shifting beside her as he moved his other arm up, started to lift her shirt up over her stomach. She exhaled hard and grabbed his hands, rolled over on top of him, forced him onto his back. Her hair fell back down around both their faces as she lay on top of him, breathing hard, purring down as she ground her crotch down onto the bulge in his pants.

Lips smashed down, drowning out his mumbled questions and protests, forcing her hot breath into his mouth. “Shut the fuck up.” She forced his hands up and above his head, sliding her lips around to worry gently at his ear whenever she felt him start to resist. His back arched under her as she dragged her crotch up his stomach and chest until she was sitting on his sternum, pinning his hands above him, smiling down at him while she gently crushed the breath out of his body. She crossed his wrists, holding them with one hand while she reached over to the nightstand and opened the top drawer. Her fingers sorted through the clutter until they felt a short chain, and lifted gleaming steel handcuffs out of the drawer. She pushed her weight down harder, spreading her knees and dragging her crotch across him as the steel bracelets dangled in front of him. “Please…” She leaned in close and dragged each syllable out, locking her eyes with his and smiling.

His eyes flickered from hers to the handcuffs, and back again. She watched him lick his lips, thinking of fantasies and fears, of deep, brutal sex stories played out in internet browser windows and scenes from horror movies on theatre screens with hot buttered popcorn and diet soda. She leaned back, letting go of his hands, and felt an electric jolt when he held them above his head, his only movement a slight shifting as the mattress springs pushed him closer to her. “Look.” She ratcheted the handcuffs close, and licked her lips at the cold mechanical sound. “Quick release button on the side. Hold it in and they unlock. No key. So if you make me come so hard my head explodes, you can still get out, easy peasey.” She pushed the button in, let the hasp slide out and hang loosely, breaking the circle.

He smiled, then nodded slightly. “OK.” She grinned back down at him, wiped a stray strand of hair away from her mouth, and gently kissed his lips. She watched his eyes as her hand slid up his arm, pried his wrists apart. Her weight settled on the middle of his forearm, pushing it down hard into the covers while she slowly brought the cuff down with her other hand. The steel hasp shoved down flat and hard, she slid it under his skin and rolled it up, worked it around until it met the body of the cuff. Click. She felt her breath quicken, and his jaw went slack as he shut his eyes. Click. His breath got harder, and she licked her lips, hard, fighting to keep herself from shoving the steel through as hard and fast as she could. Click. “Good boy, brave boy…” She felt him tremble slightly, answering tremors rolling through her body. Click. She tugged gently on the metal, felt it move freely but catch on the meaty part of his thumb, and sat back slightly.

She saw his fingers flex, watched him trying to convince himself his hand was still his own and stroked his face lightly. Moved one thumb down the line of his jaw and slid it into his mouth, let him wrap his lips around and it suck gently on the hard nail and soft flesh. Finally, she pulled her hand away from his face, chuckled at his soft whimper. “Soon… you’re giving me what I like, and I’ll give you what you like in just a few minutes.” His breath quickened, and she leaned back over him, threading the free cuff and chain through the wooden rails of the headboard. “First, we need to do something about this other hand though.” She brought it back down, and laid it gently in his palm. “Put it on.”

“Huh?” He shook himself out the warm fuzz of passivity, and looked up at her. She sat back on her haunches, and nodded towards his hands. “Put it on yourself. Four clicks only please, we don’t want to cut off your circulation.” He drew in a deep breath and she smiled down at him, not moving, letting him decide. The corner of her mouth twitched, the only sign of the heat flooding deep inside her when he looked up and shifted his hands, grasping the shackle with his restrained hand and working it around his free wrist. He looked back to her and she nodded as he slowly slid the two parts together, surrendering to her. Click. Hot, hard breaths came from them both. Click. Her hand wandered down to unsnap the button on her jeans as he shifted to line his wrist up in the cuff. Click. It tightened down, and her fingers slid into her waistband as he carefully put pressure on the ratcheting steel. Click. She slid her fingers down the front of her panties, rubbing herself, fingers pressed tight against slick flesh as she watched him pull experimentally on the handcuffs, felt them tighten around the meat of his hands, holding his arms above his head.

She slid her wet fingers out of her panties and dangled them above his lips, letting him see the shining moisture. “See what you did to me, just by doing that?” She pushed her fingers down to his lips and inside his mouth, crushing his tongue, kneading and pulling the warm meat inside his mouth. “You’ve got me soaking wet through my jeans. It’s a good sign when a guy can do that.” He smiled around her fingers, a goofy grin of gratitude at having pleased her, and made the chains between his wrists rattle. “No, no, no.” She shook her head, and pulled her fingers halfway out. “Never act with me, or do what you think I want you to do. I want whatever you’re doing to be what you feel, to be honest and real and true. Got that?”

The chain dropped back, slack and silent. He mumbled an assent around her fingers and she slid them back into his mouth, nodding back down at him. “You got me this way just by being yourself. Keep doing it.” His mouth sucked greedily at her fingers while he nodded understanding, and she smiled at him. A warm pop signaled her fingers coming out of his mouth, and she looked them over critically. She wiped her hand on his shirt, bunching up folds of cloth and dragging them over her digits until they were dry. “Now, about safewords. Red means stop. If you say red I quit what I’m doing immediately and we don’t start again until everyone has calmed down and we talk about what went wrong. Yellow means slow down, give you a minute to process, things need to be less intense for a little bit. Green means go, but it doesn’t come up very often. Understand?”

“Yeah.” A harsh, ragged whisper came from his throat.

“Tell me.” She looked down at him, watching his face carefully. “Don’t parrot it back though, show me you understand.”

His throat flexed as he swallowed hard. “If I need you to stop, totally and immediately because something is very wrong I say red. If I just need to slow things a little bit, or make things a little less…” His mind danced around the words painful, crushing, searing, broken, and finally found what he was looking for. “Intense, I say yellow. And green means party on, Garth.”

Soft chuckling punctuated her nod. “Pretty much. We’ll talk hard limits later, but I don’t have anything too wild planned for you tonight.”

“Planned?” His eyes narrowed and flickered from her to the cuffs over his head.

“Oh, you didn’t think this was a spur of the moment thing did you?” She smiled with sweet poison insincerity down at him, and pushed his shirt up. “I’ve been waiting to get you chained and helpless all day.” Her hands massaged his chest, feeling the tight skin stretched over muscles, bunching the material up around his neck, pushing her hands into his ribs, kneading deep furrows in his body. Her hands slid up until her fingers were teasing his nipples, lightly teasing and rubbing them in small circles. Her lips came down, hair tickling as his face as she licked her lips and leaned in close to his ear. “You remember when I went to the bathroom earlier in the restaurant?”

His nod was quick and frantic around ragged, jerking breaths.

She carefully lined her nails up on his chest, dug them in slightly, let him dread what was coming. “I jerked myself off, three times, just thinking about the sound you would make… right… now!” Her nails sank into his flesh until the skin and muscle and nerve endings were packed in so tight she couldn’t force them any closer, all yelling at him to make whatever was causing this sudden flash of pain stop. His sudden animal bark of torture and defiled flesh washed into her mind, travelled through her body, and washed back out her mouth as an echoed rejoinder of guttural, deep throated animal of lust a growling confession of a different kind of heat ripping its way though her own body. His body rocked and convulsed under her as she moaned and cooed into his ear, finally letting her hands relax, nuzzling her head against his, gently kissing his neck. “Oh, that was so much better than I imagined.”

“So much better…” She purred into his ear, waited until his body had stopped twitching and his breath became slow and regular, then carefully moved her hands back to his chest. Her body pressed flat against his, eager to feel every sudden jolt of pain, she leaned in close and whispered, “This time, don’t yell.” She heard his breath quicken, and felt a quick jolt of savage lust at his whispered, “Yes ma’am.” Her hands clenched and her fingers sank into his body while she growled against his ear, “Remember, no fucking yelling.” His body rocked and swayed under her, she felt him drawing in deep breaths, shuddered as his shouts of pain and screaming words of broken flesh died deep in his chest, rolled on top of him and ground her crotch into his thigh as his his legs buckled and straightened mindlessly. Low grunts and harsh high whimpers were the only sounds coming through his clenched teeth when she finally let go, letting him gasp out of a sob of relief before she sank her fingertips into his body again.

She rode his convulsing body, feeling his spasms and twitches slam into her as she ground herself down into him, riding the shock wave of pain from her fingertips. His eyes bounced around their sockets, bulging orbs under clamped shut lids. His arms reached up until his hands wrapped around the wooden rails of the headboard, clenching down tight, squeezing and hanging on, muscles bulging as he dragged their bodies up the bed. When he paused and arched his back to suck in a great gulp of air she squeezed down as hard as could, pinning his legs with her own, twisting and shaking along with him, until she saw his eyes roll up under their lids and stay there for long seconds.

She let go then, letting the flesh spring back into shape and crossed her hands under her stomach, dragging her shirt up and off. She leaned in close, petting his hair and making warm cooing sounds above him. “Open your eyes.” A soft deep whisper that cut through his gasps and eventually reached his brain. He felt his hands unclench as he opened his eyes, his hands come back down until the cuffs dug in and stopped them with a halt. He saw her above him, breasts jostling as she reached behind herself and unsnapped her bra. She shook herself free, tossed it on the floor by her shirt and leaned in closer, smiling down at him while he licked his lips and arched his back, pushed his head up towards her. “Shh…” One finger slid into the divot of his upper lip and pushed him back down to the bed. He flopped back down with an exhausted sigh, and she lay down on her side next to him, bringing his face to her chest. “Good boy. You didn’t yell.” She rubbed soft flesh in his face, smiled when she felt hesitant kisses that quickly grew stronger and more confident.

“You can kiss them.” They shifted awkwardly and twisted their legs together, wrapping their bodies up in broken knots, ropes braided from their limbs sliding over each other, frayed ends tightening against each other than falling back apart. His mouth worked his way across the bottom of her breasts, kissing then gently biting down on the flesh, dragging his lips on the soft smooth skin between them, worrying her nipples with his teeth and tongue. She ran her fingers over his body, felt them slide across muscles and bone, thought of how much she wanted to tear him into pieces and put him back together like a favorite jigsaw puzzle.

When his lips found the base of her neck and worked their way into the hollow spot so often obsessed over, she leaned away and sat up. She pulled a long deep breath in through her nostrils while he lay back on the bed, hands pulling the chain on the cuffs tight, looking up at the sweat shining as the soft curves of her body rolled and shifted in time with the movement of her lungs. She threw a leg over him, straddling him as she sat upright and stretched, pulling her skin tight and making her breasts rise up and away from him. One hand started to knead her tits, rolling the soft flesh back and forth while the other slipped down her pants. She pushed down with her fingers and rolled her hips forward, wrapped sensitive skin in her fingertips and dragged her hips back, pulling slick flesh until it bounced free with a jolt of pleasure that made her gasp. He moaned with frustration underneath her, and she heard the clanking chain of the handcuffs going slack and snapping tight with her moans.

“Please…” It was half tortured moan and half sigh, a one word prayer coming from his lips to a rutting goddess he couldn’t quite touch.

“Please what?” She looked down at him, rubbing herself a little harder and faster, bouncing her ass down hard on his lap, smiling and arching an eyebrow.

His hips rolled up and ground his crotch into her body. “Please let me get you off.” He brought his feet up under his knees and used his legs to shove his body up against hers, lifting her up until she reclined back against his raised upper legs for balance.

With a deliberate air of theatrical lust she brought her fingers up to her lips and sucked on them greedily, sliding them one by one into her mouth and pulling them out from between her lips. When she had pulled all four through her lips she looked back down at him, and started rubbing herself again, slower, more deliberately. “How would you get me off?”

His eyes fixed on her crotch he watched the bulge of her fingers worry her flesh, trying to catch a glimpse of her cunt as her panties folded and rolled under fingertips. “With my cock ma’am!” He gasped and flexed his legs to shove himself up harder, pushing the hard, straining bulge in his pants against her ass.

Her head rolled from side to side and sighed down at him with her brow furrowed. “Penetration? I don’t think that getting me off is what’s on your mind, is it boy?”

Frustration and lust combined into a deep moan and he shifted his weight beneath her, thinking back through all that had happened, what had gotten her off, what had made her gasp and bite off screams of passion and pound her cunt down on him. “My pain, I’ll get you off with my pain, please, just please let me get you off!” The prayer had become a plea, a supplication of a tortured soul begging the only person who could save him for mercy, and he slumped back into the bed with relief when she finally smiled down at him.

“Oooh.” Her lips pursed and she smiled at him, fingers stopping and hips pausing. “Now you’re talking.” She stood up on the bed and wobbled from foot, finally laughing and hopping down to the floor. Her trembling hands quickly shucked her jeans off, then pulled her panties down one leg, hopping lewdly as she dragged them awkwardly off the other. She smiled at him, felt his eyes wandering over her naked body as she looked down into the still open drawer. His eyes flinched and her smile turned into a leer as she dangled nipple clamps connected by bright stainless steel chain in front of him, letting them gleam and sway under her hand. “Still want to get me off with your pain?”

He smiled wanly, then licked his lips and smiled with confidence. “Yeah, I do actually.”

“Well then.” Her eyebrows bounced up and back down quickly, and she stalked over to the bed. “Let’s see about making it fun for you too.” She pulled the rough, sensitive of his nipples up with her fingers, forming it into flat planes before squeezing the jaws of the clamps open and letting the teeth sink into his flesh. His short grunt at the attachment of each made her smile, and she climbed back up on the bed, straddling him, spreading her legs in front of his face. She found the chain behind with her one hand, and carefully pulled until she felt it starting to go tight, then shimmied forward across the covers until her knees were on either side of his head. She could feel her wet cunt pulse, so much blood rushing down to the area she thought it would burst with each heartbeat, and she took a deep breath, forced herself to slowly reach down and grab a fistful of his hair.

She pulled his body up, one hand wrapped in his hair, the other wrapped in the chain that held the clamps biting down into his nipples, and let anticipation fill her. “If you lick, or suck, or fuck me with your tongue, I’ll pull on the chain. You said you liked going down, so I’m going to let you get me off with your face while you get me off with your pain.” A deep purr rumbled through her chest as she pulled up on his hair, forcing his face into her cunt. She felt his tongue tracing up her slit, rolling over the short soft hair until it found her clit. Louder, deeper moans and sighs ripped out of her as she twisted the chain and felt heard him gasp, felt the vibrations of his body in pain focus on the tip of his tongue and make violent twitching motions on her clit, shivered as his hot breath popped out of his mouth and rolled across her wet cunt and down her thighs.

The chain links fell slack as his concentration was broken, as he forced himself mentally to deal with the conflicting messages his body was singing. He forced his tongue back out and onto her body, working in short lapping strokes and tight circles as she lurched forward, smashing herself into his face and pulling the chain tight. He grunted, and mewled, and twisted pathetically underneath her while she held onto his hair with one hand and worked the chain forward and back with the other, twisting his flesh, pulling the nerve endings and making his throbbing pain beat in time with her gasping pleasure. His body screamed at him to make it stop, to do anything to put an end to his pain, but he choked out gasping sobs and kept his mouth buried tight against her instead.

She rode him, his bunched up shirt still under her knees, ground her teeth down as she cinched her thighs together around his cheeks, wiggled her ass and pushed herself down tight to get closer to the hurt sounds pouring out of his throat. She felt his tongue against her, a hot twitching muscle between her thighs stroking her, and clenched her fist tight in his hair, draggging his face up until he couldn’t breathe. She was panting, aching, needed to come so badly there was almost nothing else in the world, except his need to breathe. She forced herself up and off of him, felt cold air rushing across her wet skin, and looked down at him, breathing hard, gasping and sucking in air as fast as he could.

The chain went slack, and his arms jerked against the cuffs as some blood returned to his tortured chest. She let go of his hair, and when his breathing slowed looked down at him. He saw starvation and desperation in her eyes, warmth and caring shining through at him as her shoulders heaved and her skin flushed. “Make me fucking come this time.” He nodded and took in one last big gulp of air as she dropped back down, twisting the chain in her hand until he expected two great chunks of skin and flesh to be ripped off his body. He pulled his arms tight against the cuffs, and began to lash his tongue frantically against her clit, beating down on it as hard as he could and flicking back up against it as the hair on her cunt rubbed against his face. He heard a muffled gasp of pleasure from her, and started making the flicking motion over and over, ignoring the fact that he couldn’t breathe, forcing the pain in his chest and searing fire into his lungs down into a dark corner of his mind and making the wet tip of his tongue flogging her throbbing clit the center of his existence.

He could feel his blood pounding in his head when cold chain links hit his chest and she slumped forward, pulling herself up and bracing her arms on the headboard. A muffled scream of pleasure wracked her body as she dragged her hips away from him and gasped through the pleasure pounding out from her cunt through her bones. He gasped under her, watching her body shake and shiver as he breathed deeply, forcing his eyes to stay open, trying desperately to commit every twitching muscle and trembling inch of soft pale flesh to memory.

Exhausted and hoarse she sank down beside him, wrapping her arms tight around his body. She reached up and pushed the releases on the cuffs, smashing up against him softly and grinning when her arm brushed against the clamps and he winced. “I know they’re a bitch, but you made me very, very happy. Now shut your eyes, and I’ll take them off.” Her hand carefully stroked his hair until his eyes were shut and peaceful, and then she opened the jaws of the clamp and pulled it off, laying it down gently on his sternum. She winced along with him in sympathy as he clenched his jaw and growled deep at the pain of blood returning, then carefully removed the other clamp when he was breathing regularly again. “So happy…” She made soft purring sounds and lay down on top of him, soft and lazy now. He realized his arms were free again and slowly brought them down, carefully wrapping them around her and holding her tight.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

8 Comments »

  1. Mike said,

    Oh, wow…..so nice….so sexy….so much great femdom

    • littlesubmissions said,

      Thanks!

  2. Ryonne said,

    Oh goodness. I liked the second part a lot – it struck a lot of nice chords with things I like. Definite identification with the top in the story.

    • littlesubmissions said,

      Yay identification! I’m always glad when people can see themselves doing these things. 🙂

  3. Serena Dante said,

    Love it!

    • littlesubmissions said,

      *takes a grand bow*

      Thank you.

  4. Lilith said,

    Oh, I’m in love with this story!
    And yeah, I can totally identify with the second part, I am so impressed..

    *throws rose*

    • littlesubmissions said,

      Thank you. *bows*


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