Lips and Thighs

He clamps the outer lips of my labia, with grips that tighten as their pulled. He threads a rope through them and then ties the ropes in loops around each thigh. When I open my legs, my flesh is pulled painfully and stretches me. It is agony.

He begins by tracing the wet tip of his tongue against my slit of flesh. I battle with myself, I want to open my legs to feel a firmer sensation. I try to find a balance between the pain and tasty pleasure. I shake and shiver and bleat.

He takes off his trousers and bends my knees to my chest. He pushes himself inside me, swollen and firm. He begins to model me. Bending my legs around like a doll, catching my whimpers and gasps. He lifts my pins over his shoulders and I gag in pain.

I say to him, "Do you know how much this hurts?"

And he says to me "Of course"

He begins to fuck hard, thudding his pelvis into the clamps. I look at him and watch him smile and his eyes flutter and close as he absorbs my dedication. Fear, pain and struggle. He breaths it all in. I drip and swirl and think he's beautiful. I would do anything, right now.

He decides I have had enough when my eyes begin to water and my cries turn to yelps.

Saturday Afternoon

I am eaten. I am touched, there is some other thing that happens (I always forget that I don't remember everything) in his favoured hole he penetrates me making us both buck and clench. He makes me melt against his hand and hardens. I am taken again. The room is awash with sweat and sensation. I drool onto the pillow and dampen it with my clammy hot cheek. We are in rhythm and running. Flying on loose thoughts and dulled pleasures. He tempers my hole with his fingers to keep it perfect for him (A perfect hole in one). He pushes against me relentlessly and I reciprocate with flicks of my hip and curls of my spine (all my magicians secrets). We pant and heat up and fuck and enjoy ourselves dreamily.

fifteen small words

The surgical metal of a thin tipped needle pushes into breast tissue. Blood bubbles out.

A weekend away

He fucks me on my knees, him standing. He slides his fingers into my arse and stretches me. He hooks them upwards and hangs me from his hand like a carcass. I swing on the finger hook like meat. I drip and ooze and spoil. He tweaks tendons and nerves inside me and makes me feel sick and fleshy.

He makes me vomit later, his hand threaded into my short hair, fucking my mouth with force. I gag phlegm and indigested matter onto his turgid flesh. I scrabble to clean him carefully. Disgusted with myself, then I carry on sucking.

The Older Man - Sorry

We are coming together in intense pulsing waves. I am stretched to break and aching for you. You are making me gush pale fluid on to white sheets and I am lost. I talk to you, trying to bleed connection from you but you do not respond. You do not talk to me and I am so alone.

I feel lost. I long for my sir. I feel lost. Please find me. I feel guilt and pain and heady anguish. I feel lost. Where is he? I am alone. I am dumb and I am needy. I am naked and getting cold. I am hurting. Please, where are you? I miss you so. I wish you had your arm around me. I wish this lump or bump in my diaphragm would go.

Friend I am sorry, it is not you its me (don't women always say that?). I try to talk to you and explain how much it pleases me to think I'm pleasing someone. You say nothing. It is uncomfortable. I love you today, but as we say, not in 'that' way. I don't think I'm cut out to be me anymore or to please you. I am cut and hurting. I am cut out. Dark in there. Its dark in there and no one is talking.

I don't cope all too well with my own emotions.

An amalgamation of a few days

He puts me over his lap and stretches me out, he lets me suck him and I gag up spit and vomit. He spanks me, he hurts me. The lips of my cunt are swollen and bruised.

I am leaking from over used holes.

He fucks me and its so painful. I sob and he doesn't stop and he doesn't care. He lays his weight upon me and holds me by the wrists as he penetrates me with intent and violence. I am all broken up and flying. I fuck him some other time. Sitting on his lap, scrapping up my insides by thrusting so deeply. We twist each others brains in to rung out rags. Bones and flesh are blended, blood is drawn, pleasure is palpable.

A Request For My Sir - #3

He gives her that smile that he usually does. A man who’s pleased with his work. There’s cost but no charge. She is still... and still so scared. He runs his fingers down the taught zig - zag - stich - line. She whimpers. He probes a finger between one of the gaps and strokes her clit, receded between her inner lips. He pulls back the probe and licks its pink, white coating. Blood, moisture, fear, arousal.

She looks at him, open mouthed, with wet eyes. He choses another inch of thread to probe between. Her cunt is searing hot. He clangs his finger between the muscles. He slides in another to see what he can stretch and she screams. “To much?”.

He slides underneath the stitching at the base of her and scoops putrid matter from her cunt. Spit, sweat and her oozing fluids. He smears then over her small gaping hole, unstitched and free to brutalise. He stretches her to fit him and pushes inside her deftly. She doesn’t make any noise anymore. He holds the back of her knees with his palm and fucks her arse. She tries not to squirm. Loops feel like they're popping. He smiles at her and strokes her cheek as he bends her legs forward and fucks himself to a climax. Tears well up in her eyes as she feels his body release. It is warm in here, it is hot. The exhaust is leaking too.

A Request For My Sir - #2

Fear bubbles like tarmac and boils over onto the ground, her tears flood in startling quantity onto the bed, on to her face, her pale neck. She gasps and tries to breath without moving so much as to irritate him.

She is so scared. There is regret and terror. He has lit a match in the process, and the energy burns.

She begs his name.

Her blood and her liquid continue to ooze into clots and there is a distant clatter, clatter as he decides what to darn her with.

She knows she would have healed without assistance. She knows this is for show. She knows she is the show. He sutures her with surgical thread. For complete effect.

He pulls the fleshy lip at the site of the first cut, pursing the incision together and bunching up the clot. He threads a single loop stitch and then another. He lifts the needle over her central human opening and copies these same two looped stitches on the other lip’s cut and travels back again. The pain is monotonous and filling and oily. She feels ill and on fire.

In inch gaps he stitches up her wounds over her cunt in a zig zag pattern. She can move her legs and thighs but not pelvis or groin, for fear or splitting the dainty ties. Or herself. Her sobs still patter, she watches him loop a finishing knot and admire his work.

A Request For My Sir

It is warm here. It is hot. He smears the sweat from his forehead with his filth covered hands. He breaths in all the pollution smouldering out from between her thighs. Oil is dripping from the core of the mechanism.

He lays his head between her open legs and starts to feel that steady drip return. It rests on his philtrum, that gap between his nose and lip, perfect for catching fluid and blood.

He has split the epidermis of each outer lip in half, with a scalpel, two straight thin lines that don't quite meet at either end. The blood pools in the cuts and rivers down to drip into her cunt (It is that central cog. Which bubbles with effluvium), and on to his face which is warm and wet and red and coated. He slides his tongue between her splits, artificial and genetic. Iron, sour, metal.

She is probably crying, more than likely snivelling, wet and stupid, but trying at least.

He nuzzles his face into her cunt, pulls her lips aside as he doesn't want to get her dirty blood on his cheeks. Or nose. He cranks out yelps and twitches with every twist of lip and tongue. He runs hs fingertips along the wounds. He talks into her. He says. “Im going to sew you up”.

Back to regular programming.

He rubs his cock against my wet swollen lips, leans the weight of his pelvis against mine and talks to me about all the pleasure. He dips in and out of me in rhythms and has no intention of making me finish like this.

Later he uses his hands to stretch all my holes. I can feel him making my nerves twitch and stretching tight ropes of internal muscle, like he's bending rubber. I orgasm in pain and desperation. Fluid and confusion, wet the bed.

The Boy - A hard fuck

He's been working on his body. His muscles are fattening, his ribs are prominent. Im on my knees and he's bashing his hard cock into my sopping cunt. I squirt huge gushes of fluid all over his groin. I come in multiple doses.

I feel guilty for not asking my sir's permission to do this.

One, Two, Three

She is lain in front of me on the bed and I’m looking at her strange body. Flat and straight, from rib to foot, like a little boy. Her large flat breasts sit above her ribs, like pert globs of muscle. Her thighs are spread and I can see sinew and hair and slithers of exposed genitalia.

I take her nipple in my teeth and purse it in my lips, and wet it like I'm sipping through a straw. Sip. I stroke her with my palm. She moans. I can feel his breath and his eyes through the back of my skull. I yelp when he drives his thick fingers into my cunt as I'm eating her out.

He is inconsequential, an irritant in the pleasure. An unnecessary addition, a fly in the soup. Waiter there's a fly in my soup. I’m sucking her clit and nuzzling into her pubic hair and waiting for her to come for me.

When he leaves to take a leak she tells me to the lock the door so I do. We’re naked in bed together. I can feel her little fleshy body. I cup her breasts in my hand and gently stroke and play with her nipples. I twist them in my fingers and I use all my best words.

I rest my face in her soft dark hair and tell her she’s very beautiful, that I love her flesh and that I like touching her. I snake my palm lower over the flat body and dip my fingers into her cunt, still wet from where I ate it. She bucks and rolls onto her back, like a dog. I start to finger and stroke and fuck her pretty clit and lips.

Her moans are so loud.

I want to choke her pulsing neck and tell her to shut up.

Shut up mouth and quivering vox. Shut up. Be quiet. Shush

I whisper that she must be and that her cunt feels full and damp and that she’s a very good girl for being so wet.

The moans soften and she tells me that...

"I am so arousing". I ask her does she like that and she says “Yes”.

I smack her cunt gently with my palm. She asks if I have anything to push inside her. Pushy push push, inside her tight vagina. I take a glass cock from the bedside draw with my spare hand. I take my other from her cunt and run my finger tips over her pretty face and let her suck them. I ease the ice cold glass into her boiling groin. She moans like shes in pain and starts bucking her hips. I take her hand and let her fuck herself with the glass. I lick my fingers and carry on fiddling with her skins.

I whisper in her little pierced ears. I tell her that she would do anything for me right now. She gushes that she would. I tell her to fuck herself harder. I'm rubbing her more. Quicker. More quickly. I tell her that she is perfect, that she is going to come for me, shes going to think about how her pleasure is mine right now, and how good she’s been, and how lucky she is to be in my bed, playing with my toys.

She climaxes hard and asks me to stop. I rub her harder and then I comply. I pull away then go to put my hand back. She moans a startling "No". I say “You don’t say no to me. I’m just going to cup you”. She blends into the heat of my hand and sighs and catches her breath and mumbles something about it being good.

I say I am good and that shes nice to play with. I wipe my slimed palm up her thigh, then scrunch the remaining damp into her hair. I kiss her cheek softly and then I tell her to go to sleep.