Hired! ~21~

It was the whirr of the oversized vibrator that roused her. How many times, she wondered in the small corner of her brain that still functioned. How many times had he made her cum. 

“Noo…no more…I can’t….” she moaned.

“Yesssss,” he growled in her ear.  “Your final test to see if that belt stays off,” he said, pressing the vibe hard against her. “I know you can cum again. One, two, however many I can wring from your greedy, sopping cunt.”

Her body arched as she spasmed again. Her ass fell to the mattress, wet and chilly beneath her hot cheeks, before rising again in the agony of orgasm. Her nipples drew tight, her clit pressed deeply against the steadily churning head of the monster.

“Aaaaaahhhh!” she shrieked, the shocks from her overstimulated bud painful, so painfully sensitive.

He moved, changing the angle of the vibe, slipping his fingers into her, finger fucking her roughly. Her head tossed as a steady babble came from her mouth, wordless pleas for mercy.

Gods, she was glorious in this state, he thought, the wild freedom of her pain writ over her body, the tremors of orgasm in her belly, her tits, her thighs. Her hair plastered wetly around her head, sticky bits of sperm and spit glistening on her cheeks, her lips, her breast. Though he’d had her several times already, he felt himself growing hard again, watching her writhing. He controlled this, controlled her for this moment. Her body was his to direct, an orchestra of flesh at his disposal. The thickening shaft between his legs demanded her pussy again.

His fingers, slippery with her juices, grabbed her legs, flipping her to her side. Her eyes were blind now, staring at him blankly, as her mouth opened and closed on the animal noises she squeaked at him. Keeping the vibe pressed against the top of her vee, he jogged his hips forward and sank into the hot, slippery cauldron of her cunt. For a moment he could only pause, his penis sucking up the incredible warmth, the slickness of her. He felt her quivering deep inside, surrounding his dick with an unceasing squeezing of her muscles. Hips moving almost of their own accord, he slid out, then back, increasing the pace, then the violence. The hum of the vibrator buzzed at him when he was buried deep in her, the sensation sending quivers of pleasure shock to his balls. He pummeled her pussy then, driving hard, driving deep, driving them quickly up the ramp from lust to raw animal need. His ass tightened with every thrust, his cock thickening as her whimpers came faster, her voice rougher. Each punch of his penis forced a gutteral grunt from her, making him even harder.

When the shockwave of another orgasm rocketed through her, her pussy walls clamped him like a vise of molten lava. Teeth gritted, face straining, he withdrew, slammed home, withdrew again, then drove deep into her boiling cunt, and exploded. With one final coherent thought, he switched off the vibe before falling across her, panting.


When they roused, they were stuck together.

“You are glued to me,” she moaned as he peeled his arm from her left tit.

“It’s not my fault that you have superglue for drool,” he replied, wincing as he rose up on his free arm, trying to find the other one.

“I think your pussy tried to kill me,” he muttered.

“It would have been a mutual killing,” she said with a slurred giggle. “Your cock tried to spear my lungs out of me.”

“Your cunt tried to suck me in by my dick, I felt it trying to Hoover me in there.”

“You did it, so you deserved every moment you were terrorized by my pussy.”

“You may have a point there,” he mused, grimacing as he pushed away, his thighs firmly melded to hers.

“OH! Ouch!” she yelped as he peeled away. “Dammit! You’re friggin’ exfoliating me! And that’s YOUR cum, by the way, I distinctly remember you spraying me with your load.”

“Load? What are you, a porno writer?” He laughed, but was blushing.

“Are you…blushing?” She giggled, pointing at him.

“Crap is a ‘load’…semen is something else.”

“What, praytell?”

“You’re pretty spunky after being fucked brainless, you know.”

“Cute,” she said, rolling her eyes, giving that teeny head-shake that let him know she didn’t think he was cute at all. Little brat!”

“I AM cute. And yes, I covered you in  my spunk.  I did NOT dump a load on you or you’d be covered in shit.”

He paused, his eyes widening. Oh, she could hardly wait for this, she mused, watching his face.


“Unless…what?” she asked, knowing she shouldn’t.

“Unless it’s your unspoken, ultra-dirty fetish.”

“What…oh gods…you…NO! Oh gross, no. I mean, not to judge people who are into shit..but heyll YES, I’m judging. Eww. Just…ewwwww. No. No Sir, I am definitely NOT into poop play. Ugh. Just…” She shuddered dramatically.

“Well,” he said, his tone reluctant, “If you’re sure?”

“I’m totally and completely sure. If you shit on me…”

“I’m not really into public shitting. I’d have to get a volunteer to shit in a bucket or something.”

“Now that, THAT? Is the epitome of “gross”, ” she said, using air quotes over the word gross.

“I can not believe you are air quoting after I just fucked you into tomorrow.”

“I had pent up orgasms. I feel MARVELOUS! In fact, if we weren’t stuck together on your …spunk…I’d be up and twirling with the bliss running in my veins. I am HIGH on sex right now.”

“I see..” He rose from her in one quick moving, making them both gasp.

“FUCK!” they said in unison.

“Jesusgod,” he moaned, cupping himself. “My balls were stuck to you and your vicious pussy!”

“HOLY FUCKBALLS!” she yelped, grabbing her cunt. “You took ten layers of skin off my pussy!”

And then she began to laugh, pointing at him and guffawing. With a frown of injured pride (and sore testicles), he tried valiantly to not let the grin quirk his lips.

He failed.

Slut on Call

Sifting through the mail in her front hall, she kicked off her shoes. They looked great but after a twelve-hour day her feet were throbbing. She tugged the ponytail holder out of her hair, shifted out of her jacket. She was just about to head to the kitchen to nuke some pizza when she found the envelope.

Definitely not hers.

If it had been junk, she would have simply tossed it, but this looked official. Important. With a longing glance towards the kitchen, her tummy grumbling impatiently, she slid back into her shoes, ignoring the protest of her toes,  and headed next door.

The neighborhood was quiet and dark. Friday night was date night for some, and a chance to sit and veg in front of the tv for others. The sounds of crickets seemed loud in the darkness, those last desperate calls for mates creating a constant, chirring hum. She climbed the steps, noting the tidy little front porch. A pot of mums sat on the bottom step, and a brass number plate sat over the doorbell. Both were new. Ringing the bell, she wondered who, exactly, would answer the door. She had never seen, nor met, the people who had moved in here this spring. She’d been off to California for work when the house had closed and the new owner took possession. It seemed they worked opposite schedules or something.

The door jerked open, starling her. She had a moment to take in a tall, dark-haired man with fierce eyes, before she was tugged inside.

“You’re late.”

A strip of duct tape slapped over her mouth, a blindfold tugged over her eyes. The letter fell soundlessly from her fingers to the floor, sliding into the kitchen and half under the fridge. Neither of them noticed. He almost ripped her shirt as he tore it away from her body, then used it to tie her wrists behind her back. Despite struggling, he overpowered her quickly. A hand in her hair pushed her, stumbling blindly, through the house, until she fell face-first onto a bed. Panic set fire to her, as she rolled, kicking out. She did not want to be raped, she only wanted to deliver a fucking letter. Strong arms pulled her up the bed, grabbed and secured each flailing foot. She growled and screamed behind the gag, as he rolled her to the side, sliding the shirt off of her. She punched out when her hands were free. The weight of a man’s body straddled her, high up on her torso, just below her breasts, as she tried to claw and scratch at him. He laughed.

“Feisty. I do like the feisty ones. Gotta say, slut, you’re the best so far.”

Quickly, effortlessly, he subdued each hand, until she was spread-eagled, tied to his bed. She bucked, trying to get him off of her so that she could breathe. Panic sent black spots to circle around her blindfolded eyes as she fought for breath.

“Yes, yes, impatient wench, I’ll play with your pretty titties…”

Matching words to actions, his hands tugged her bra upwards, freeing her breasts. He cupped and fondled them, sometimes gentle, sometimes firmly, until he pinched her nipples and lifted each fat breast by them. She squirmed, squealing.

“You have lovely nipples. Red as raspberries and fat. Just the way I like.”

He slid down her body, laying atop her, his mouth, sucking one breast deeply into his mouth.   Jesus…his mouth did powerful things to her. Her belly tightened, and she arched involuntarily, seeking more. His teeth bit into her tender skin, making her cry out. The gag tugged on her lips as she tossed her head. She wanted…

NO! No!

She breathed, trying to ignore his mouth on her tit. She’d always been sensitive there. Boyfriends were always fascinated that she could have an orgasm from having her nipples sucked. One had called them her “Orgasm knobs”, laughing as he’d turned them while fucking her, driving her over the edge so many times that she’d eventually passed out on him.

She wasn’t going to cum.

She wasn’t.


Her back arched as the first spasm rippled through her pussy.

“You horny little thing. NO! No cumming, don’t you fucking *dare* disobey me.”

His words were like cold water. With a hard slap, he pushed off of her, then tugged her skirt up around her waist. Pulling her panties to the side, his finger probed her cunt.

“You little whore. Soaked. Did you cum?”

She shook her head no. She was close. Very very close. His finger rubbed her clit, engorged and standing at attention. The little traitor.

“Good. You want to cum, don’t you?”

She shook her head, no.

No. She didn’t.

The slap on her pussy took her by surprise. She arched, shrieked.


He slapped again, twice more. Her clit throbbed, her pussy ached for release. This was fucking weird. He slapped her and she wanted to cum even more than before. She needed to get out of here. Now. She lay still, her mind racing. She pictured the freedom of her kitchen, the pizza in the freezer. A single tear traced from her eye to her ear. The edge of the gag pulled away, then slowly eased off her mouth.


“You don’t have permission to talk. Or cum. Got it, slut?”

“I’m NOT a slut!”

“That’s what all the sluts say.”

“I’m your neighbor…really. I was bringing you mail that came to my house by accident…”

“I never saw any mail.”

“I had it. In my hand….I’m not sure where it went when you grabbed me like …like..”

Her voice fell to a whisper. She heard footsteps cross the floor, leaving the room. It wasn’t long before he was back. The bed creaked as he lay across it beside her.

“How about that. And yet. So wet, little neighbor girl. So close to cumming. Are you sure you’re not part of Sam’s Sluts-to-Go? No? Okay, then, how about a bargain.”

There was a click, a whirrr and something, something wonderful, pressed against her pussy.

“If you don’t cum, if you can hold off for 5 minutes, then I’ll untie you and send you on your way, with my apologies. But if you do cum, if you act just like the horny slut I thought you were, and cream all over my bed? Then you stay here with me. All weekend. Playmates.”

He paused, letting that sink in, all the while playing the delightful buzzing thing down her pussylips, and back up over her clit.


“Of course not, a fine lady like yourself would never cum in a strangers bed after having her tits sucked and her pussy massaged.”


“Five minutes, starting now.”

Time seemed to thread past her in ribbons and waves. Her total attention was on her cunt. She wanted to get out of here. Cumming was not an option. She wanted home, and her pizza for dinner. She wanted her feet up and her book. She…the thing pressed hard against her clit and she arched, stimulated beyond belief.


She cried out, feeling the clenching of her pussy, her body arching and straining against the bonds that held her open. His chuckle bordered on cruel.

“Greedy girl, your pussy is very wet. I think she wants something…”

His finger caressed her slit while the churning bulb stirred her clit unceasingly.

“ooooooooOOOOO” she moaned as his finger, two, three slid inside her wet heat, curling up and stroking the most sensitive places inside her cunt.

“For a girl who doesn’t want to cum, you’re doing a very poor job resisting.”

His voice was a husky sound against her ear, the warm brush of his breath a near-caress. His lips found her nipple and sucked hard. She came in a torrent, her body arched into a perfect bow, releasing a flood. The gates were open, lust pouring through her body, flowing out in a torrent of sex juice. She had cum, harder than ever before in her life.

And now she was his.

Someone to Watch Over Her

She thought she was “safe” he thought with a mental sneer. Up there on her umpty umpth floor, alone in the clouds. He’d watched her for months, amazed that she truly thought no one could see her as she touched, as she fucked herself, and as she was fucked by others.

He’d watched her watch porn.

Not just any porn, but the dark and dirty kind. The bondage and beating kind. The cum in her mouth and her ass and her tits kind.

In his bedroom was a telescope, hooked to a monitor, so that he could lay in his bed and watch her touching herself. He’d seen a few guys come through, never the same one twice. He’d watched as she’d been trussed open, her pussy spanked then fucked by one masked marauder, watched when the tall bald guy had come by and whipped her until juice drizzled down her thighs, watched as the black guy had fed his cock into her mouth, and later, between her ass cheeks as she had knelt, doggy style, on her big bed. It seemed she’d do just about anything, and with just about anyone.

Thankful that his gig was security, he began digging for information about her. He got her name, address,  phone number, the place where she worked, and the dungeon she frequented.  He knew that she lived alone now, but that she’d been married and divorced, no kids. She made a lot of money advising others how to handle their greenbacks, and her  taste in movies ranged from Up to Die Hard.

He’d been to one who had called the police the night a scene went bad, and had made sure the guy was paid back in kind, a task he attended to personally. Soon, very soon now, he’d meet her. With a tight smile, he continued to watch as she ran her vibe up and down her tight pussy, back arching as she pleasured herself. He stroked his cock as he watched, timing his orgam to spurt when she did.


Stacy Jo Keenan stepped out of her condo building, looking at her iphone and frowning in annoyance, when she walked-full on- into someone. She would have fallen flat on her ass, if strong arms hadn’t grabbed her, and held her upright.

“Careful,” a voice spoke far above her, despite her 5-inch stiletto’s.  Her head tilted back and back.

“You be careful. You walked into me. And dammit!” She teetered, realizing her left heel had broken. “Now I’m going to be late,” she huffed, fuming.

“I was just walking down the street when a sassy-assed girl slammed into me. Good thing I have good balance or I would have fallen and hurt my dainty ass.”

She narrowed her eyes, glaring up at him.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Whyever would I do such a thing? You’re such a sweet little thing.”

“You are making fun of me. . . and it’s not my fault you’re a frikking giant.”

She muttered under her breath “and a clumsy oaf”.

“Did you just call me an … oaf?” His voice, amazed, caught her attention, as did the little shake he gave her.

“I did. Sorry.”

“Now you’re being terse, and it was all your fault, too. Calling me such an archaic name, and hurting my feelings. I could sit right here and cry.” He whined.

She bit her lip. She was not going to laugh. She wasn’t.

The giggle escaped. Clapping a hand over her mouth her blue eyes clashed with his tawny ones.

“Stop. You’re being silly.” She managed, swallowing her smile.

“I can’t help being silly. I’m an oaf!”

Now she was embarrassed.  And giggled again. “I’m sorry I called you an oaf. Really.” Her phone chimed in her hand, but he took it, turned it off.

“Let me help you upstairs so you don’t tip over and knock down any other oafs.” Taking her arm he turned her back towards her door before she could protest. They passed the doorman, who smiled at their exchange once they were inside the thick glass doors.

They were in the elevator before she even thought about what was happening.

“Wait…you can’t come to my apartment…I…”

“I’m not the first guy you’ve had up there, I imagine.” His tone was dry.

She wasn’t sure how to answer that one, really. Her cheeks turned rosy and her brows tugged into a frown.

“I promise to be a good oaf.”

She rolled her eyes. He was like an oversized puppy…but puppies could bite. The doors slid smoothly open and he helped her towards her door. She opened the three locks quickly, then kicked off both her shoes. As she bent to retrieve them, his hands landed on her hips, tugging her back against his legs.

“HEY!” She yelped.

“Little girl, you need a keeper. What the fuck were you thinking, letting a strange man come into your apartment with you? How can you be that complaisant in this city…anywhere? I could kill you. I could rape you. I could tie you up and feed you corn flakes. You have no idea.”

He shook his head, spinning her around to face him. His large hands moved to her shoulders, giving her another shake.

“This was your stupidest idea yet.”

“I…I beg your pardon?” Her tone was frosty, but he heard the thick sound of fear behind the words.

“You’re right about that-you will beg.”

Fucking Asshole

some dragon for today…..tastes good with…your favorite topping…~nilla~, laughing evilly…..

The ropes bit into her wrists and ankles. She could always count on Andy to secure her well, but this was fucking ridiculous. As she’d stepped from the kitchen to the bedroom, He’d grabbed her from behind, scaring the shit out of her, blindfolded her with that fucking hood, and thrown her on the bed. Things got a bit hazy then, as she struggled with Him, but also for breath.

It was hard to feel excited and turned on over the annoyance factor. She had a shit day, her boss was a fucking asshole. She’d said that about him in the break room, ranting about what a jerk-off he was. Nitpicking her work to death, it was like working for a cranky 2-year-old sometimes. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like that. All she wanted now was a glass of wine, to kick off her heels and peel down her hose and unwind a bit. Yet, here she was, tied down and unable to vent to her lover about her crapper of a day.  She couldn’t complain because he’d used the ball gag over the fucking hood. Mostly, she had to concentrate on breathing. She tugged her wrist.

Not going to budge.

She took another breath, slowly through the cloth over her face. Something tickled the bottom of her foot. He’d taken off her shoes? She hadn’t realized that. She tried to kick it away. Fruitless. She hated being tickled.

She’d told him that innumerable times. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered. She wasn’t feeling submissive, she was feeling pissed.

She tried to say “leave me the fuck alone, you prick” but all that came out was a muffled “woh woh a-woh”. There was no verbal answer but she felt his presence. She really hated when he did that. Totally ignored her until she wanted to shriek.

Oh, she was in no mood for this today. She tossed her head, and tugged her arms and legs furiously for thirty seconds, a minute. Nothing. He’d tied her securely. She growled, screeched, scrubbed her head around.


She lay, unable to pant, out of breath. She trembled. She shook with a rage that rose in her belly. There was a press between her splayed thighs. She shook her head, no. She was angry, annoyed, frustrated. How dared he do this to her. The fucking bastard!


He watched her struggle on the bed, arms crossed. Oh, she was truly pissed.

This was going to be some fun.


She had no idea how long she fought before exhaustion, and futility made her relax.  She felt the hood sticking to her cheeks where tears had dampened them.

There was the sound of snipping from across the room. He wouldn’t. But now she wasn’t at all sure that he wouldn’t. The floorboard creaked under his weight as he crossed the room towards her. She felt the faint vibration of the scissors as he snipped the front of her blouse. It cut through the thin fabric like a hot knife passed through butter.  There was the cold touch of the back of the blade against her belly, then it was gone, and her shirt was peeled away. A warm finger slid under her bra, between her tits, and in seconds, the snick of the scissors and the sudden release as her bra was severed, and the weight of her tits popped sideways.  The cooler air of the room teased her nipples hard, as he tugged her skirt up around her waist.

He had yet to speak a single word, and she was surprised that arousal was fluttering its way through her annoyance. He’d never treated her this way before.

It was strangely erotic. A bit of fear, a lot of anger, and total helplessness was mixing her up. She was mad. She was turned on. She was annoyed. She was wet.

The fucking scissors were employed to cut away her hose and panties at the crotch.  There was the touch of fingers as he grabbed the sides of the slit he’d cut, and then the tug and sound of ripping as he opened a larger portal.

In moments, she felt the press of a cock against her folds, and the sudden jolt as he slid inside her.

This was not her boyfriend’s cock.

She inhaled sharply as the long fat shaft filled her. It was…uncomfortably large. She felt stretched, and very full. She tossed her head, and tried to jolt him off of her, but he only chuckled and pressed his torso harder against the opening of her hole, thrusting another inch or two into her. She grunted at the size of him filling her. Over-filling her. She winced under the hood, trying to will her body to relax. She wondered who the fuck this was.

Was this one of Andy’s games?

They’d “double-teamed” her before, he and his best friend. But this wasn’t Seth’s cock either. Thought fled as he pulled out, then battered deeply inside her warm belly. She grunted around the gag. Fingers found her tits, kneading them like bread dough.  There was a pinch on her left nipple, then the hot wetness of a mouth. The sucking of his mouth and the pistoning of his hips sent waves of sensation through her.

She felt the orgasm building, building. Fingers slid down her body, squeezing between their joined bodies, to rub at her clit. She came apart, body arching, fingers curling into fists as the climax roared through her. The mouth on her tit sucked hard, as his teeth worked around her flesh, nipping and biting. The finger continued to rub her clit furiously, painfully. She tried to breathe, to gasp, to say noooooo, it was ohtoo sensitive…but another orgasm ripped through her.

And then his hands were on her hips as he pounded into her, withdrew and pounded again. The third orgasm drained her, made her see stars.

He pulled out with a wet sucking sound.

Fingers spread her wetness down, and around her asshole. One finger, then another circled and played around that tight hole. She squeezed her eyes shut, and whimpered.

Noooo…the thought of that giant cock filling her ass had her struggling again, but the fingers continued to move in and out of her rectum, stretching her, loosening her. Three fingers, then four and her body began pressing down, urging them deeper. His free hand circled her clit, never quite rubbing that spot, until he jabbed those four fingers deeply into her asshole, making her groan around the gag.

Her clit was attacked, rubbed roughly.

The orgasm made her faint, but she roused quickly as the head of his swollen rod pressed inside the tightest of her holes.  He pressed into her, relentless. She growled, but the gag muffled it. He shoved his dick into her helpless ass, and slid home. Whimpers and tears came, but her clit throbbed. His fingers played with her clit, her nipples. He slapped her pussy, then withdrew, and thrust inside. She felt her body stretch and relax, and felt another orgasm building inside her.


But the hard cock in her ass pressed on, building speed, becoming rougher, greedier as it dug deeply into her tight hole. Her head jolted as her body was taken, used.

He was rough at the end, brutally fucking into her bum. He was close, almost there. His fingers bit into her tits, leaving bruises, pinching moans from her as he grabbed her nipples, tugging her tits together, pressing his face into them and biting the tender flesh. His rough crotch hairs rubbed along her pussy, and she came, a flooding orgasm like she’d never experienced before.


He lay on top of her, and reached around to unfasten her gag, and tug the hood off her face. She was a mess, snot and tears and drool over her face. Her mascara had run, black rubs along her cheeks. Her eyes, red and puffy, stared up at her boss.

“Now you know the truth; I am  a fucking asshole. Or rather, I was fucking your asshole. And…you certainly enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

She, for once, had nothing to say.


His cell phone rang as he pulled into the garage at his condo.  He smiled when he saw who was calling.

“Hey Andy. Yes. Oh, hell yes. She was a fucking animal. Yes. We’ll have to do it again sometime. Soon.”



His tongue glides along my arm. Starting at my wrist, the pointed tip trails along the ridges where the rope holds me tight. It tickles. I want to giggle, but the tape over my lips keeps me silent. It seems inappropriate to laugh when your kidnapper is going to fuck you. But what can you do when his tongue is trailing up your arm, swirling around your armpit?

I writhe, wriggle, and make high-pitched noises. I want him to stop. This isn’t funny. I’m naked, tied, spread open. The tongue is wet. Warm. Sometimes I can feel his breath against my skin. That’s warm too. I can’t see him, to tell you about him. To warn you.

Don’t answer that ad on Alt-life. The one that looks so enticing. So perfect. Don’t meet at the old cafe on Morrissey Street. He won’t be there. Or…you’ll think he won’t be there. Thinking you’ve been stood up, you’ll turn to look down the street, and he’ll pull the bag over your head. He’ll warn you not to struggle, because of the knife. It feels like a knife.  He’ll reach his hand under the bag, and slap a wad of duct tape over your lips.

You’ll be helpless to scream. And you came here, just to meet a dominant. To be his fucktoy. But you’ll think, like I did? That he’ll want to talk to you. That he’ll want to get to know you. What makes you tick. What turns you on. How you want to serve.

He doesn’t care about that. He only wants to take. To use. You could be me, here. Laying here, being licked.

His mouth moves in a kissing motion up over the curve of my tit. The tongue laps around the areola,  then the sharp caress of teeth over my nipple. This could be you, you know. He sucks the nipple into his mouth, through narrowed teeth. It scrapes. It hurts. It…turns me on.

I shake my head no, but I can’t tell if he sees….or if he’s ignoring me. He will take his time tasting me. I remember that. He told me, while he cut my clothing off. He would taste me, suck me, feast on me. He would bite and taste of my blood, lick and taste of my sweat, suckle and taste of my skin, and lap…and make me cum.

He won’t. Make me cum, I mean. I’m strong. I can outlast that. I’ve never cum from oral anyway. He won’t….oh. OH…



my clit …like my nipple

throughhisteeth, pushing it out wiht his tongue…in-outOHGODS-inoutin…

My back arches, offering him my pussy, lips swelling and peeling open, wantonly begging for more as I cum hard against his mouth.

I feel the tongue, going back to work, lapping lazily around my lower lips….


Head tossing. Moaning. Struggles to get away.

All fruitless endeavors.


I was stuck, His elbow on my hair, His arm holding me, my arms cuffed and tied above my head as I lay, pinned open. My tits were pinched, twisted, slapped, squished, and bitten.

His hand falls with steady, measured blows.




My breath comes out in short gasping breaths. H=u-r=t=s….moan..moan..oho ohhhhh…

Can’t close my legs to shut Him away. He hits a bit harder…




Now I moan in earnest. It goes from subtle sexual pain, to pure pain. I feel the lips of my pussy swelling even more.

It’s the end of playtime.

Time for “nilla quickies” as Master calls them. When I am no longer capable of rational speech. When I am moaning and whimpering and “speaking in unknown languages” which are “senseless, but cute,” as He says it.

In my head I’m saying I can’t.

I can’t.

I simply cannot cum anymore.

The bed is soaked with my juices. I’ve had most of a sports drink, several glasses of water…but I’m done.

Can’t. Cum. Anymore.

When my pussy is one steady throbbing mass of flesh. Feels swollen like…like a grapefruit is between my thighs.  Yet as His fingers wander down through my folds…

“You’re WET! You slut!” and He’ll chuckle that evil chuckle of His, and start to caress my tender clit.

You know, the one He’s just finished pummeling with pussy smacks?

Yeah, that one.

I can’t move, can’t get away…just have to take it. I say nooooooo….and He laughs….and slips His fingers inside me.

And I rise into each stroke..He rubs my spots…all the spots…then grabs the top of my pussy, squeezing the tender flesh, my lips, my clit, the tender sexual spot just inside…


I cum.

And lay, tears leaking from my eyes, as my pussy, that traitor, twitches and clenches on His fingers…and wets Him.

“See, I knew it.”

And then He’ll start stroking again. Sometimes even as I’m cumming He’ll be stroking, and fucking. He might pinch my clit and a nipple simultaneously. Or bite and suck that nipple so painfully, as He jabs His fingers into me, taking me rough and brutally, the way I like it.

I cum hard.

Then at the end. My end.

There is nothing.

Pussy is dry.

“Ssshhhh….” He whispers. “I know there’s another in here. It’s hiding. But it’s in there….”


“cum.” He says, His voice implacable.

It’s the only clear thing I remember. It is a lifeboat in a sea of sensation.


I obey, and sink into darkness.



Thank you Donna! (aisha, that’s all the warning you get! LOL!) oh, and p.s…..this is verrah long…no serializing this one! ~n~

She’d been fascinated by the sea her entire life. Perhaps it was all the treks to Cape Cod with her mom and aunts and gram as a child. Summers were lazy days spent in the hot sun and cool surf. There were quiet times, and excitement….nothing got the summer visitors going more than shark sightings, unless it was when a pod of whales cruised off the southernmost tip of  Provincetown.  From the Pilgrim Tower you could see Massachusetts bay to the west, and the deep green-blue of the open Atlantic to the East, skirting the white, white sands curling south, until it turned westward back towards the bulk of the Massachusetts coastline.

She had many memories of those foggy morning walks with the surf whispering at her feet, catching sea stars and tossing them back into the water, or surprising a family of sandpipers, running on their funny legs at the white frothy edge where water met sand.  She remembered sand between her toes, as well as in a lot of other less desirable places, and the beating of the sun on her upturned nose, turning the part in her blonde hair pink.

When she graduated High School, she spent her last summer on the Cape with her womenfolk, then headed off to college to study marine biology. Trekking around the world at Spring or Winter break, she spent time in tropical islands, and one memorable school-sponsored trek to Madagascar.

Now she swam at in the deep blue waters above the Great Barrier reef. Marine life abounded here, and she’d had several thrilling adventures already. There was a purported count of some 1,500 different fish,   as well as sea-snakes, mollusks, and three varieties of sea turtles.  Thus far her favorite sightings included the white-sided dolphins that frolicked in these waters.

It stunned her.

The reef, immense and diverse, was teeming with life. Every dive held its own special fascination. Today, Marc was taking her out, just her and just him. It was, to her mind, almost a date. No scheduled classes, no itinerary.  No diving today, the idea was that they would just snorkel along the surface, and merely observe the goings on in the reef below, without actually becoming part of it.

She knew Marc was hoping to see the giant squid that was rumored to exist here at the outermost edges of the great reef.  There were no other boats out this early in the day, just them, and the burgeoning disk of the sun rising through clouds.

“Red sky in morning, sailor take warning,” she chanted to herself. They’d have to keep an eye to the sky. The small boat sat calmly in the sea as dawn broke around them.

“Ready?” At her nod, Marc looked her up and down. Her bikini showed her lovely breasts to perfection, full, ripe and round. The briefs were, in point of fact, very brief. He wasn’t sure why, he’d certainly swum with other nubile college girls over his career, but this one? Made him nervous as hell.

They slipped into the water, their swimfins barely making a splash as they kicked away from their boat. The sea was warm, nearly hot, a caress across their skin. Summer in the southern hemisphere meant heated seas, mating flush in all the creatures, the burgeoning of life,  even as the northern hemisphere shivered in the chill of a January snowstorm. Together they moved through the water, peering into the still-dark depths. Occasionally her belly was tickled by an inquisitive fish, or she would catch the dark shape of something swimming under her. The sky was still pink and plum and russet with dawn, keeping the ocean’s depths a mysterious secret.

Once again, there was that caress along her belly. She shivered, smiled over at Marc.

“Fish are ticklin”

“The price you pay for that micro-kini you’re wearing! You could go back to the boat and put on a ‘skin…?” He let that hang there a moment, trying to not let her see the “gods don’t let her want to go back and cover up” in his eyes.  She filled out that ‘kini…the woman was stacked. The little triangle of fabric did little to cover sumptuous tits. The equally small bottom triangle gave a tantalizing peek at plump lower lips. She was not a skinny minnie; he loved that she had the guts to wear a bikini with a softly rounded tummy…it showed that she didn’t give a fuck what society thought, that she was comfortable with who she was. Maybe it was that, that comfort with herself that intrigued him so.

What he wouldn’t give to be one of those fishes slicking down that body!

She shook her head no, then flicked her fin at him as she pushed ahead. He tried not to stare at the round full globes of her ass, the muscles in her strong legs pulling his attention up, around, and towards that dark triangle that beckoned him like…like no other had in a long while.

Every time he was around her he felt a bit awkward, a bit nervous, and a lot horny. It was unnerving that a student would make him feel like the junior geek here. He knew she was not trying to entice him, that she was a sexy woman who had never “put the moves on” any of her teachers. She got ahead by her smarts, her drive, and her love of her subject.

“Ooohhh,!” she giggled, turning her head to look back at him. And caught him staring right at her ass. Marc flushed. She stopped swimming, treading water.

“Like what you saw, Prof? Geeze.” She blushed. Her heart ticked up a notch. He saw her. It gave her a tickle between her legs, a soft, wet throb.  She’d never, ever made a move on a teacher, yet she saw Marc differently.

“Actually, I did.” They stared at each other, floating in the warm, sapphire sea. She tread  water, holding her place, as  they looked at one another. Each wondered if they should reach out, and touch.  She felt the tickle on her thigh, and wriggled. His eyes widened. She wondered if it was from the sight of her tits bobbling in the water. There was that tickle again. She splashed at the water, trying to startle the fish. Marc uttered a short “what the fuck?” as he caught the brunt.

“I’m sorry! Not you! These damn fish are …” abruptly her voice cut off, and she gave a short yelp. Something was coiled around her ankle. They were too high to be caught in Sargassum weed, so what the fuck was on her? She kicked her foot, and felt something on her other leg.

“Marc!” she yelped, kicking. He was turned away from her, and she yelped again. “MARC!”

He turned his head, glassy-eyed. “Something…” he grunted, a look of startled surprise on his face.

“Marc…” she moaned then, feeling a soft bite on her inner thigh, cutting off her plea.  She felt a probing at her bikini bottom.  She whimpered aloud as something…something slick and cool rubbed along her vulva, down along her lower lips. There were…suckers there, snagging on her flesh, already aroused from the flirting with Marc.  She felt a sting where the bite was, and then a feeling of floating, and an incredible feeling of arousal. Her clit jolted to attention, her nipples engorged, and she felt a wet hot slickness leak from her cunthole. Her hips made little undulations in the water as her body invited the invader in.

The fat thing that filled her was a cock. A very different kind of cock. It was tapered, and she felt that tapered tip twisting and twining inside of her. Impossibly, it had found her ‘spot’, and rubbed it relentlessly. Her orgasm made her arch back in the water, and she sank up to her chin as she came harder than ever before. She kicked feebly with her legs, but found herself floating when she stopped.  More probing along her slit became pressure against her asshole. She shook her head, her hair floating like a golden halo in the water behind her.

“No no no noooooo,” she muttered, trying to push it away. She felt things twining around her wrists, her arms, pulling her back. Legs…tentacle legs, wrapped around her torso, her throat. Tips of legs rose up in the air then rubbed against her tits. She bucked, but was held too tightly. There was a sudden surging thrust into her ass and pussy, and she screamed. Her asshole throbbed, even as her cunt bucked into another orgasm. The wriggling invader in her ass pressed upward, twirling up into her gut. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, torn between the pleasure in her pussy, and the pain in her asshole. She was stretched, deeply, fully with the thickness inside of her. Her ass throbbed, setting off another shockwave of sensation, another ripple of her belly as she climaxed. As she gasped for breath, one questing tentacle found her nose, pressing up and inside.

“NOOO,” she moaned, tossing her head in a futile attempt to dislodge it. A second slender tip found her other nostril, and slid inside. She felt the tickle at the back of her throat. She coughed, gagging as one tendril pressed deeper, probing. Her head was tugged backwards by the feelers in her nose, and she arched in the water, out of control. The cock working in her belly pressed hard against her cervix and she moaned. Pain and pleasure commingled, and she felt a hot wet thickness building inside of her. It, whatever it was, was coming inside of her. She felt the dripping of fluid down the back of her throat, and the tightening around her tits as tentacles thrashed in the air before wrapping her more tightly in their grasp.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Marc, also floating, one thick tentacled arm filling his mouth.

“Marc,” she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. The bobbling waves should have spread them away from each other, yet they hung here in the waters not far from their boat.

The thing in her ass began to thrust. A second cock? How many of these creatures were on her? There was a slither against her hip. It pulled up out of the sea, and she stared in horror,  looking into the eyes of the slimy creature as it slid up her belly. This one too, had a protuberant cock. It’s tentacles grasped her tits, suctioning onto her nipples and sticking against her as deeply as possible. She moaned. She saw its maw, open wide, tasting and exploring her belly, working towards her captive tits.  It found the swollen orb of her, settled around her protuberant flesh. There was a shocking and intense sucking at her nipple, then a bite. Heat, lust, rampant need exploded in her.

Primed, she spasmed. The water around her clouded with her cum, and theirs. She was writhing now, desperate for sex. The fucking in her pussy and ass redoubled, perhaps one cock, perhaps more, fighting to press into her belly and deposit its milky spoor. She was bloated, full, as the cock before her began to thrash towards her mouth.


Marc could not believe what he saw as Jules bobbled in the water, could not believe what he felt as he too was entrapped by a group of groping tentacles.  What the fuck? he wondered, attempting to push them away. His hands were quickly wrapped together in one strong coil; despite the cool slippery mass, they were incredibly tough. He felt the first tickle along his thigh, then his calf. The bite was less annoying than an mosquitoes, but in seconds his semi-soft cock went fully rigid. Painfully rigid. Tenting out the front of his swimshorts, he felt the first flicker of panic as a tentacle…was it only one?… slid up inside the left leg of his shorts.

The grip around his balls was painfully tight. He moaned, and a tentacle slipped between his lips and down his throat. He could breathe, barely, and panic sent his heart racing. He felt the lapping of water around his cock.

Where the hell had his pants gone?

He forgot about them as something cool, tight, viscous settled around his shaft.  It felt like fingers massaging along his length. He was hard, harder than he’d ever been, and there was a feeling of sucking along the crown, the hole, the ridge of his head. His hips jolted in the water, fucking. He would have moaned but for the tentacle silencing him.

He swallowed, a thick ooze was leaking from the tentacle and dripping down his throat. He tried to scream as another probed his asshole, then pressed insistently upwards. His rectum was stretched, painfully. His eyes closed as his shitpipe was violated, the deep questing probe thrusting, fucking his ass, even as his own cock was getting worked over. The clenching around his balls was making them feel like his nutsac was going to explode; his cock was painfully rigid, and sucked so hard it, too, was painful.

Yet even as he wondered if a guy could die from having his nuts crushed by a squid, they were released. He felt the upsurge of his own orgasm ricochet up his cock, and explode from inside his fuck-tube, into places unknown.  The world went black for a minute, but he roused as  another moved onto him, biting him to erection, and fucking him senseless once more.


“I think she’s coming around.”

There was general laughter at that remark.

“Cumming being the operative word, ey mate?”

Jules opened her eyes. She was alive? She felt heavy, thick-bodied. She was naked, but couldn’t make herself care. Several guys were standing around her; one crouched down and held out his hand.

“How many fingers, darlin’?”

“Two.” her voice croaked. “Marc?”

“Oh, your mate? He’s fine now, below decks having some food. C;mon up with you now, darlin’, let’s get you into something more proper then, aye? Then we’ll give you a snack and set you two back to rest, ay?”

She swallowed, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. There was a coursing of wetness as she rose, leaking from between her legs. One of the men held a bowl there, catching the liquid.

“They liked you, girl,” growled one, observing the amount of liquid in the bowl. It had a faint golden color to it.

She felt the blush rise from her toes. She would have moved forward, but a hand pressed hard against her belly, as if to drain her.

“Just a little more, darlin’.”

A daring pair of lips lapped up her inner thigh.

“Andrew!” admonished their leader, as he held her there. “It’s a powerful aphrodisiac, darlin’. The Japanese pay top dollar for any squid semen we can collect.”

He led her down to the galley, where a pale-faced Marc sat, eating. A sailor sat on each side of him.

“Now that you’re both here, I’ll explain what happened to you, and tell you where we go from here.”

“The squid that attacked you, the Aussie Dumping Squid it’s called, are notorious sex-fiends.  They mate for hours at a time, and have lately begun to prey on humans who venture into the water at dawn, or dusk. Their mating season is just for a few more weeks, and it appears that they very much enjoyed you two. We’ve tried collecting the cum by grabbing the squid, but it won’t release. And the two others we found in your situation were barely touched. It appears they like you.”

Marc and Jules looked horrified. She’d been fucked by squids? Plural?

“So we’ll feed you up to keep your calories and fluids up, and tonight at dusk we’ll drop you both in again. Let them fuck you silly, reel you in, drain your holes, and let you sleep.”

“It’s only a few more weeks, mates. You’ll have the fucking time of your lives, and vacation memories of Australia to last a lifetime!”


Somewhen in the vast reaches of our time together, after multiple forced orgasms, after fucking, and biting, and beating…

He flips me over on my back. I grunt, I remember, because my shoulders were so sore from the beating, and the biting. My ass was throbbing dully, and my pussy, too, but to different beats. It was a discordant rhythm that my body was playing, all a blend of disharmony that somehow set up awesome harmonics within me.

He healed me, by beating me.

By fucking me.

By using me hard, and heavy.

Then He tugs me, on my back, across the bed, heedless of my small moanings. Tugged like I was a rag-doll…and you all know I’m no lightweight. My head flops off the bed; I feel the heat of his thighs on either side of me, the roughness of hairy legs. The push of His cock on my face, my lips.

He reaches down and takes my cuffed hands, and hooks them together behind His back.  Reaching down, He slapped my inner thigh until my legs opened, aiding in my balance.

He is wordless.

I am blindfolded.

He makes me figure out what He wants, by slapping my pussy. I lick His balls, laving them, lapping at them, making Him moan. If I please Him, He stops slapping my pussy, and starts playing with my tortured clit. It is so sensitized by now, that even a gentle rubbing makes me cum.

I moan against His ballsack, mumbling “no…no…no…”

Cumming is sweet torture…and becomes simply torture.

He moves His hips, and immobilized as I am, I can do nothing to stop Him. Nothing to stop His cock entering my mouth (not that I don’t want it. I do, I do!)

But at the same time, His fingers slip inside me and begin fingerfucking me roughly. I squirt nearly instantly…I feel the wet explosion, as I mumble NO around a mouthful of  cock, trying to get my mouth clear of it so that I can protest. I do, yet, with the position He has put me into, when I open my mouth to say anything there are His balls. I’m effectively gagged between His legs, His cock, His balls, as He stands there, getting sucked off, and torturing my pussy.

I come again.

And again.

And again.

And, yes, again.

The number of orgasms is uncountable. All this in silence. He says nothing to me, just plays with me. Pulling my nipples, slapping my tits, pinching my belly. Fucking my pussy.

Fucking my pussy.

Fucking my pussy.

He doesn’t cum in my mouth. He reaches up, and I feel His hands unclasping my wrists, then He steps back, tugs me up upon the bed.

Does He cuddle with me? I think so.

Seriously? I don’t remember that part yet. It will come back to me, or He’ll tell me about it.

And by the way?

I loved every fucking minute of it! The loss of breath from time to time, the banging of my head with His legs, the taste of Him, the objectification of Him plucking away at my body, as He did whatever the fuck He wanted to…all of it was a HUGE turn on.

oh. Did I forget to mention the anal beads?

Next time, my pervies, next time.


Sex Dreams

(this is what happens to a very horny slut when she hasn’t had an orgasm since Tuesday…hint, hint, Master….)

“I know, it’s terrible isn’t it?”

The hum fills the air, and the space between her open legs. Head tosses restlessly, while the legs try to move, try to close from the stimulating touch.

“Right there…oh, yes…can you feel yourself? You’re trying to push against it. Little slut, I know. You want more. Your head says ‘no’ but your cunt, your dirty little slutty cunt? It’s begging ‘yes, yes’. ”

The vibe is pressed hard against sensitive flesh. A garbled moan comes from a gagged mouth.

“Hmmm, yes, where pleasure becomes torture, I know.”

A chuckle fills the room, rising over the persistent hum of the toy pressing against her clit.

“I see you, you know. Squirming. You want to move away. Can’t. Tied too tight to close your legs and protect your poor assaulted clit. Your horny cunt, on the other hand, is drooling. Feel all that juice on the vibe? Oh, deny, deny. That’s not lube…at least, not my lube, you little whore. It’s your juice. You are wet, fucking wet. You can pretend, Mz. Prissy-pants, that you didn’t want this. Yet here you are, oozing cunt cream.”

“Here, hold this. Time for part two!”

His voice is cheery and her heart escalates. She cannot see what He is doing, the blindfold is tight. She feels the hum as he presses the tip of the vibe into her, braces the end against the mattress so she cannot push it out. The bed shifts as he moves away, then shifts again as he returns.

“There is always, always a price to be paid for pleasure, slut.”

For a moment there is only the sound of her labored breath around the gag, and the taunting hum of the vibe. A pinch on her tit, her nipple. His hands are sticky, and warm. The hard bite of something on her left nipple makes her groan into the uncaring rubber ball pressed deep into her mouth. Her wince allows a stream of drool to slide out the corner of her lip, and create a thick, wet trail down the side of her jaw to her throat. The hard slap against her other tit startles again.

“This first nip, ah, that one just gets a sip of pain. Pleasure and pain. So tasty. You’ll grow to love it, trust me. But this nip?”

There is a hard flick against her right nipple; despite her fear and rage, she feels it rise at his touch.

“This nipple? Gets lots of pain. We’ll start with two. But there will be more. Many more before I’m done with you.”

“OH, look. How very pretty, your nipple all perverted and pinched up like that. Luscious. And …oh, look how wet it is down here. A veritable river of cunt ooze. Tsk, what a dirty little cunt you are. Acting all high and mighty, no sex, first date. And here you lay. Open, cunt soaked, and wanting. You want to be fucked, I know. I see the lips of your swollen cunt, begging for cock. I’m not ready yet.”

The vibe is pulled out of her pussy, and pressed firmly against her clit. She growls, and tries to move away but she is bound too securely for movement. Her head flails, her fingers open and close into fists against the headboard. Her body thrums, her clit screams, her nipples throb. When he slaps the tit with just one clamp, she screeches behind the gag, screeches when he strikes it again. He slides the vibe deep into her pussy and fucks her hard with it. No words, just the hum of the vibe and the squiching sounds coming from her pussy.

She wants to fight it, but she feels it coming…coming…


(sex dream two)

It starts the moment i enter the room. His fist in my hair, as i step through the door, halting me in my tracks. I wince, and moan. It hurts, and it was unexpected. No tender kisses and hugs to reconnect. His hand, in my hair, violently, hard.

He takes my bag from me, my purse.

“The brush. Where’s the brush?”

I reach into the bigger bag, pull out the brush, hand it to Him.  I hear my bags hit the floor behind me, against the closed door. He tugs my glasses off, and pushes me forward. I hear him put them on the desk as he propels me to the bed. I have a blurry, fleeting image of the 2nd bed, covered with his toys, before He is pushing me, face-first, to the mattress.

His hand presses my back; i go to my knees. The fist in my hair tightens a moment.


I nod; it’s a minuscule movement but he feels it. He lets go, and in seconds I feel cool air on my ass.

The first whap of the brush on my ass is incredibly painful and tears flood my eyes immediately, only to be wicked away by the bedspread. He hits me again. And again. Until I am crying into the uncaring bed. I hear the brush as He tosses it onto the other bed. It hits something with a metallic chink. Maybe SFCT or his belt?

He lifts me to my feet by my hair, spins me ’round, and kisses me hard as we fall onto the bed.

The Seedling

She tamped the soil over the seedlings, then watered them copiously. Her roommates always made fun of her for starting her plants early, but they never seemed to laugh so much when her little bedroom garden yielded tasty greens in mid-winter, or the first tomato’s of the season…in June.

She’d set up the grow-system on the only open wall, near her bed, beside her dresser. The dresser top was clear now, ready to hold her watering can, the fertilizer that helped them grow strong, twine, spare light bulbs, and all the other paraphernalia she needed to make her little garden grow.

It was almost time to harvest the last batch of greens. Just enough for one last winter salad, she mused, smiling over her little pots. And just in time to start her tomatoes.

Nevermind that it was still Mid-Winter,  in just a few short days it would be Imbolc, February 2nd, St. Brigid’s Day. In pagan mythology, today marked the beginning of the spring season, when the lambs began lactating; when  winter was forced to begin turning away from the land. Snow storms would still lash the people, but the back of the Winter would be broken.

She always started her tomato’s this day, although it would be months before she could set them outside in her garden. Yet the very act of setting seeds to soil was a sacred act of faith.  The moon was waxing, beginning it’s journey towards wholeness-the perfect conjunction of pagan signs for planting.


She threaded her way through the marketplace. So many little shops she kept meaning to explore some day. Today was not the day, however. Winter was breathing a frigid breath across the City, and it was freezing. She was headed to the Herbalist shop to get some loose green tea, and some ginger root. She would make a lovely tisane from it, to chase away the chill of the day. Plus the ginger smelled divine simmering on the stove top.

She stepped into the dimly lit shop. Tea and bright light were not a good combination, she knew. And it was always so soothing to step in here and smell the scents that perfumed the air. Peppermint and spearmint and cardamom wafted to her as she walked towards the back of the shop.

Mr. Wu stepped from behind the curtain at her approach. He was a wizened man who looked to be somewhere between 100 and 1,000 years old. His face was a roadmap of life-experiences. He was funny, and charming, wise in the ways of the healing arts, and a Master of Kung Fu.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wu.” She couldn’t stop herself from bobbing in a short bow. She hoped it didn’t insult him, but showed him the deep respect she felt for him.

“Good afternoon, Leeza.” His voice was rich like dark honey, and dark like mahogany. His words were accented but crisply spoken. She melted a little inside when he spoke. “How my I be of assistance to you today, little one?”

She smiled at him. Truly he was one of her favorite people. She told him of the tisane she wanted to concoct. He suggested adding lemon grass to sweeten the drink, and a generous dollop of honey.

“For the pot,” he cautioned, one gnarled finger pointing at her admonishingly. “Not for the cup.”

She grinned. She nodded.

“Has your gardening begun yet?” He asked her as he wrapped up the ginger root in thick butchers paper.

“Not yet. Soon, and I can hardly wait. The last of my lettuces will be done this week.”

He nodded. She was a good student, though he doubted she understood fully that he had been training her subtly all these years. She understood much. Not enough, but time was the most effective cure for that.


She watched him head behind the silk curtain. She watched the dragon woven into the fabric writhe as if it were alive as the fabric settled into place. In a moment he was back with a small white packet in his hand.

“Seeds.” He said, pressing the packet into her palm. “They have much magic in them. Plant just one or two of them, for you may not enjoy what you will harvest from them.”

He would not tell her what kind of seeds they were, just reiterated for her to only plant one or two. She nodded, and tucked the seeds into her coat pocket. She paid for her tea and ginger, and reluctantly headed off into the cold afternoon.


Her roommates had enjoyed the last Winter Salad, and sat sipping the lemon-ginger tea she had brewed.

“Great stuff, seriously. It’s been kinda cool that we didn’t have t buy lettuce all winter. $5 bucks a head for lettuce? Not when we have the “urban gardener” living with us!” Max burped loudly.

“scuse YOU!” Alex punched Max on the shoulder as the two men play-tussled. She ignored them. Typical meal time with the brat brothers! Still, she glowed with their praise, beaming inside.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us Leeza?”

Tussling done, she looked up at Alex.

“No, thanks. I’d rather stay here and read. You can go enjoy your ski weekend and not feel guilty. Not that you will, the second that you find some little lonely ski bunny!”

“Which reminds me,” and she aimed a pointed look at Max. “I want the rest of my ginger root pu back in the fridge, you pervert!”

Max grinned, unrepentant.

“You’ve never lived until you’ve had a peeled ginger-root shoved up your hiney,” he said with a laugh.

“Actually, I’ve lived just fine without that. So, thanks, but I’ll pass. I’ll save those little perversions for you, you sick bastard,” and she laughed. She had no problem with Max being a Dom, nor for any of his ‘toys’…though it was far and away from how she enjoyed having sex.

Though she wasn’t opposed to a bit of soft bondage now and again. And not that she’d ever share that with Max, coz he’d never let her live it down.

No, they worked well as roommates, had since co-ed college days. They had never hooked up and that was fine with them all. Alex winked at her.

“I think we should gang up on him, and let him get a taste of his own medicine,” he suggested.

“Yeah, go ahead, try that.”

Leeza laughed, and headed back to the kitchen. “Great offer, but once again, I’ll pass.”

“Yeah, and good on you for being so smart.” Alex whisked the dishes out of her hand. “You cooked, we clean up. Go, play with your plants. I know you’re dying to start planting. ”

He gave her a nudge with one shoulder, while scowling at his brother. “C’mon dickhead, let’s get this show on the road. Clean up, pack up, head out to ski country!”

Laughing at their antics, and with a silent prayer that they not break any of her dishes, she headed off to her bedroom.