WARNING: the following is a Deviant Dreams post, read at your own risk. You can read part 1 here: Death (a snippet) and part 2 here: Death Part 2.

“Like what you see pet?” I ask with my eyes still closed.

“Yes, Grace,” he replied quietly.

“Should I just lay here and nap while you watch or should we do something?” I asked with my eyes still closed.

There was silence. He was thinking about what the correct answer should be versus the answer he wanted to say. He chose his words wisely.

“You should nap Grace if you are tired,” he replied.

I knew he was hesitant about his response. I knew that’s not what he really wanted to say. He wanted attention. He wanted to be rewarded for being such a good pet while she was away and left him very neglected.

“Come here.” I whispered. “I want to tell you something in your ear. And if you touch any part of my body on your way up you will wish you were back in the closet and forgotten.”

“Yes, Grace,” he said.

I felt the bed shift with his weight as he carefully crawled on all fours up to my face. He was there on my right hand side and I felt his head close to my face and I opened my eyes to see the side of his face in my view.

“You poor thing,” I whispered softly, seductively and sweetly into his ear. “I am just horrible for leaving you in there like that. I should have at least paid for a sitter to come by and yet I failed to do so. Can you forgive me?”

He shook his head up and down. I brushed the outer part of his ear with the tip of my tongue and his whole body shuddered. My right hand moved and held his face and I could feel the goose bumps residing.

“What can I do. To make this right with you?” I asked slowly.

“Uh..”, was all he could push out as my nails slowly dug into his cheek and then my hand moved to his throat. In one physical act I sat up while moving my hand to his throat and pushing him on his back against the bed. I was towering over his face on all fours and resting my weight on to the right hand around his throat. I looked straight into his eyes and looked deep. There was a sense of fear and yet there was also the look of arousal from him. We had played this scene many times and he trusted me even when I would push a little too far. We pushed the boundaries but there were still boundaries. We wanted to live to fuck another day.

His eyes started to well and water. The color of his face was deepening red and I continued to stare him straight in the eyes and determining my next move. I let my right hand up to let him catch his breath.

My head neared his right ear again and I whispered, “Miss me?”

“Y-yes, Grace,” he sputtered trying to get a regular breathing pattern again.

I glanced down at his cock and it was still hard, very hard. He was enjoying the attention he was getting. He was not in any shape to walk away just yet.

“Did you behave while I was away or did you slut around looking for handouts?” I hissed in his ear.

“No Grace!” he answered sharply with a trickle of fear.

“I know how you get, I know how you want, no need attention,” I spat out.

“I-I was good Grace, I swear,” he said with conviction.
“Hm.” I pondered out loud. “Does that mean you should be rewarded for your efforts pet?”

“Th-that is up you, Grace,” He answered quietly.

“Aren’t you just spewing out the right answers tonight,” I exclaimed.

My body shifted and I moved to straddle around his knees with my hands resting on his chest. My face hovered over his cock. I could see his pre-cum puddle at the tip and near spilling over the edge.

“Don’t you dare look at me. You keep your eyes on the ceiling.” I demanded talking right at his cock.

“Yes…Grace,” he said breathlessly. He was near an orgasm.

“Don’t you fucking come without my permission. Do you understand?” I said through gritted teeth.

“Y-yes…Grace,” he breathed out slowly to control his whole body.

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I claim that writing is therapy but sometimes it might just be too soon. You don’t want to close the door just yet. You want to leave it hanging open by a crack in the hopes that it’s just not the end yet. But it is.

Writing this year’s NaNoWriMo book has really struck the heartstrings for me. It’s hard to accept the fact that it really is over. No more. Because of this fact it makes writing about it terrible. It comes and goes but when it comes it’s only for a sentence or two and it vanishes.

The masochist screams, “I need pain.”

His hands cup my breasts from behind. His mouth near my ear but not quite at the magic spot just yet. His fingertips squeeze my nipples but my hand reaches to force his fingers to pinch even harder. Probably harder than he should. His mouth moves near my ear. It’s at the magic spot and my ass bucks against his hard cock. My left hand reaches behind to grab at his cock. He sucks in breath and I let out a moan. He hesitates his breath out as if he will say something, a short sentence or a word. I groan. I pull his cock from his boxers and rub the head against my ass. I need him. I need to feel.

I shift on to my back and his hand push into my panties. His fingertips trace the part of my lips. My mind and body anticipate his next move. Deeper they push parting my flesh away. My hand grips the bed while the other grips his back. He teases by slowly tracing and pushing. I feel like my body is going to erupt. He thrusts inside. I’m wet and he hits that spot and my body stiffens and my cunt gushes. I shake as the liquid soaks my panties to the sheets.

“Yesssss,” he hisses so proudly in my ear.

I’m lost. I’m consumed. I’m not in my body.

“H-h-hurt… m-meee.” I stutter.

He pushes another finger inside and more fluids seep out. My nails dig into his back and slowly scrape upward. I can feel his body tense in the pain as his fingers dig deeper in my cunt. Slowly, very slowly he pulls his fingers free with even more fluids falling out. I gasp at the release.

I roll to my stomach pushing my ass in the air. His hands pull my panties from my ass as he rubs his cock against my cunt. My face buries into the mattress as I feel him push. He teases his way inside, then with a final thrust he is all the way in and I grunt into the sheets. I grip the edge of the mattress as he fucks me.

“Fuck me!” I demand.

His hands grip my hips as he pounds harder. He pulls my ass up making his cock swell more and my moans graduate to screams. I feel his cock swell and fill me. I can tell when he is about to come when his body starts to sputter with his thrusts. He is getting close.

“Come. In. Me.” I barely push from my lips.

My brain is mush with a hyper focus on his cock nearing an orgasm. I can feel it. His grip is getting tighter. Almost.

“Come. In. Me.” I say a little louder with gasps and quakes.

My cunt is tightening around his swelling. I am trying to milk him before he is ready.

“Come. In. Mee.” I plea.

He lets out a ground with his fingertips digging into my flesh. Holding. Pushing. Deeper. Hold. Thrust. Spurt.

We stay locked till his cock falls out and away.

“Finger me,” I pant.

He doesn’t question me. He obliges with three fingers forcing their way in my cum soaked cunt and I push back against him. I push hard. I want the pain. I pull forward and push back hard.

“Fuck. Me.” I groan.

I pull and push. I feel the burn of his fingers stretching me. I pull upward gripping the headboard.

I pull and push.

I’m riding his fingers. I’m fucking his fingers.

I pull and push.

My body seizes. My thighs shake. I fall to the bed panting. Heaving.

Slowly he lies beside me. I crawl into his arms and hold tight. My heaving turns into an uncontrollable sob. The tears flow but I’m quiet. I cry into his chest. I’m overwhelmed. The emotions are flood like my orgasms and I am at the mercy of my mind.

“You ok?” He whispers into the top of my head. He’s concerned.

I shake my head yes. I’m ok but I’m not. It’s not him, it’s me.

I wipe the tears away and plant a kiss on his flesh. I can’t wait to write “The End” on this book.

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This post was published on Good Vibrations Magazine

Grace stared at the white porcelain of the tub. Her face started to sink below the water line, bounce back and pressed her face against the cold surface. Her thoughts were calm and his words were playing in her mind displaying vivid and disturbing images. She had read BDSM erotica before but never with a woman in the dominant role. This was all new to her and the writer was a fixation in her mind.

Paul’s words were pieced effortlessly and the pictures he painted in Grace’s mind were priceless. Her hand snaked in the luke warm water between her legs. She felt shy to be touching herself and thinking about a complete stranger but this was not the first time. However, this was a first coming from a writer of this caliber. She positioned herself as the dominant female spitting harsh and degrading words towards Paul. There was a mix of guilt and heightened pleasure as her clit was hard and pulsing at her fingertips. Could she spit in a man’s face? Could she choke a man? Could she inflict what appeared to be cruel pain on a man? The questions alone caused her fingertips to press and rub harder. It was all embedded in her conscious now and the obvious arousal from the mere thoughts answered her questions. As she pondered more of Paul’s post about this nasty woman treating him like shit and yet he was could not get enough of her, Grace came hard splashing water, gripping the side of the tub and panting.

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