Text
The Photographer ** CW ** - BDSM. - Ropes and tying - Soft cnc
Rose bent down and slowly slipped out of the high waisted red lace panties, then unclasped the matching bra she was wearing.
“Great, thanks, now can you twist around , look at me and cross your ankles?” She turned to look down the extended camera lens and tried to cross her ankles in her ridiculously high heels. “Oh flip!” She twisted around too far, collapsing in a heap on the ground she giggled and looked up at the tall, handsome man holding the camera. His calm expression didn't give anything away, and she stood up again, slightly embarrassed, and brushed herself off. “Ok” he said, “how about we try that again, but face forwards?” She stood again, crossing her ankles and stretching up to accentuate her firm calves and tight buttocks. With her arms raised behind her head, she shook her thick chocolate coloured hair down her back and experimented with different poses , facing the white wall of the studio whilst the flashes went off around her.
“Perfect, I think that's all for this set, can you get changed into the cream set now and we'll try the bridal magazine ones?”
Rose kicked off the heels she'd been wearing and stretched up to the ceiling, totally nude now, she revelled in her nakedness, knowing that the body she worked hard to keep trim was looking especially good today. She glanced sideways over at the photographer but he was inspecting the photos he'd just taken on his camera, not paying her any attention at all. Slightly put out she rummaged through the clothes rack near the kitchenette in the studio and found the bridal set she had been commissioned to wear for a magazine shoot.
“I'll just touch up my makeup whilst I get changed?” She asked him. “Sure” he replied without even turning around “I've got to get this studio set up anyway, so take your time.” She reapplied her makeup, shifting from the dark, smokey look she had for the previous outfit to a more subtle, lighter natural look for the bridal. She swept light pink lipstick over her full lips and added a necklace. The single diamond nestled perfectly in the dip between her collarbones. She quickly brushed a highlighter over her cheekbones and the top of her breasts before heading back out to the studio.
Whilst she was gone Ben, the photographer, had set up a beautiful fantasy scene. The studio was an old factory and had floor length windows. He had hung some sheer drapes up to hide the window but still allow natural light through, nearby he had placed a day bed covered with soft, pale pink material and flowers hung from stands nearby, contrasting with the brick walls and giving the place an Olde Worlde castle style look.
She could see why he was such an in demand photographer, but the lack of connection bothered her, she was used to the photographers licking their lips over her stunning figure, the occasional off colour joke and even an 'accidental' brush against her skin. She of course didn't put up with that behaviour and swiftly dealt with the offender, but she also found the lack of attention a new and confusing situation to be in, albeit a professional one.
“How do you want me?” she purred at him, hoping to elicit a response. What was she doing? This wasn't like her at all, she usually relished being the professional one. She was the model that the photographers knew did not engage in anything untoward. Some girls would offer cheeky 'add-ons' to a booking that ensured they got preferential treatment when it came to modelling work, but she had always preferred to let her body and her skill as a model do the work for her.
Ben waved towards the day bed. “Let's start on there, I have the reflectors already set up”. She leaned across the day bed and began to work, her mind focused on the task she contorted into various poses, her supple body showing off the pale cream underwear to it's full advantage.
Suddenly Ben was standing over her.
He took her wrist and placed it above her head, not looking at her face he moved her legs up, one knee bent and the other stretched out he ignored her and began to snap away again. Speechless with shock she simply lay there as he moved around her, getting different angles. Again he moved close, moving her soft curls to frame her face.
At this point she should have protested, she usually would. You don't touch the models without asking, it's a boundary all photographers knew, but there was something in his eyes, he was focused totally on the task at hand and say her only as a prop. She didn't want to spoil the shoot and figured she would only embarrass them both, so she allowed herself to be posed by this dark, intense man hovering over her.
Minutes went by of this silent game, she found herself enjoying it more than she thought. Each time he grasped her wrist she breathed a little heavier. With each firm movement of her legs her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
“Stand up, over by the window”
His voice came out of nowhere, startling her. Whilst she had been day dreaming he had been the professional doing only his job. She blushed slightly and stood, moving over to the tall window framed by the soft see through drapes. This time the commands came by voice.
“Stretch up, twist here, look there”
He demanded pose after pose from her, moving to and fro around her as he snapped away. Again as quickly as before he was next to her. Grasping her wrist he moved in close, she could smell the faint odour from his t-shirt as he stood practically pressed against her. His expression never changed as he placed her hands over her head.
She leaned closer, breathing in his scent as he manipulated her arms, contorting her into pleasing shapes and steeping back, he began to snap away again. Although unspoken, she knew he wanted her to stay as she was. Again and again he moved her into new poses, twisting her and pushing her body. He knew how to make the most of her figure, that much was obvious, as the light hit her body the shadows clung to her tight curves, accentuating her and even to her eyes she could see how well these would turn out.
He stopped. His eyes finally looking at her without the camera, she found her breath catch in her throat as he stepped towards her. Reaching behind her, he unclasped her bra and let it fall to the ground. The dynamic shifted. She knew then, this was no longer just a shoot. He hands moved up and swept the hair from her shoulders. Placing his hands on her waist he turned her to the side, she felt herself moisten at the firmness of his hands. Tense with anticipation she held still, only to breath out with barely concealed frustration as he picked up the camera again and began to snap away once more.
He placed aside the camera and, taking her by the hand, he silently lead her over to a new area of the studio she hadn't paid attention to before. Ropes hung from the walls and stands in artistic ways, but on closer inspection she say they weren't just for show. Her heart began to thump, this isn't what she had been booked for, but she couldn't bring herself to articulate an objection.
Before she knew it, he had her arms behind her and had tied them with intricate knots that nestled between her shoulder blades and held her firm. His sharp expression never changed as he worked, camera in hand his powerful gaze seeing her as nothing more than a prop, moving the ropes and posing her, and yet closer to her he moved, his body pressed against her as he loosened and retied the ropes. She had never been tied like this, the ropes soft against her creamy skin, intricate and looping they almost danced across her skin, caressing her breasts and her waist almost intimately. She was breathing heavily now, no longer hiding her arousal.
“Oh!” She bit her lip as he slid her panties off and ran a hand down her thigh. She caught a glance of an erection that had been hidden by his jeans. Now for the first time his eyes caught hers, asking a silent question. Barely able to think, she nodded almost imperceptibility.
He grasped her waist and with a firm hand on her back he bent over and swiftly roped her legs together. She felt his breath on her exposed parts. Unable to move, she was helplessly tied and under his complete control.
His hand grasped her hair and pulled her upright, his camera placed to one side his free hand began to encircle her waist, moving lower to briefly tease across her dark pubes. Her legs still held firm she threw away her caution and moaned as his fingers teased apart her glistening lips. The way her legs were held aroused her beyond belief, this was so new to her, so unexpected. His hands cupped her breasts and slid across her erect nipples.
With one hand he pushed her over again, her hands braced against the day bed. Rolling one nipple between his fingers, she heard the sound of his zip being opened, and before she could say anything, felt his hard cock pushing against her exposed slit. She tensed as he pushed slowly into her, her warmth taking his length into her, and more.
“Oh god” she breathed, he was so hard, so wide. He stretched her open as he pushed all the way into her. No longer caring where she was, or who she was with, she pushed back into him, inviting him to take her fully and hard, but his hands stayed her hips. He moved in her slowly, infuriatingly so, she moaned as he teased her, his length inch by inch moving out of her, then back in. Her legs began to tremble as the tempo began to increase. Harder and harder, but still with no hurry he pushed her completely open and left her empty again and again. Just as she thought she could explode she felt him stop, before she could complain he thrust into her fully, and began to fuck her hard, fast and deep. She cried out as she felt her orgasm building. Wave after wave crashed over her as he held her hips, taking her harder and deeper than she'd ever had before. She felt his cock grow inside her, and as another intense orgasm hit her she heard him cry out, grasping her harder he thrust into her, his own released sending her finally over the edge. Her legs gave way and she collapsed into his arms, he held her as he pulled the quick release knot that allowed her legs movement. She lay across him on the daybed, exhausted and dripping wet she could barely speak.
He stroked her hair and, leaning into her, whispered into her ear. “We're not done yet”.
0 notes
Text
You work in a nursing home, and there is one resident who always tells you stories about the adventures they had in another world. Everyone dismisses it, saying the resident is likely delusional or making it up for attention. One day, you go through their things to help them find their misplaced glasses and you find evidence that they may be telling the truth.
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Meetings and Partings
It was a clean, crisp autumn day. The kind of day that, whilst warm, has the smell of winter in the air. The day that makes you want to wear your favourite scarf and gloves, even though it’s still t-shirt weather. The airships buzzed overhead, sending their frozen vapour trails into swirling eddies as they crossed paths, the low hum from the engines mingling with the noises of life all around. Driverless electric cars hummed by on designated roads, and the overhead metro whizzed past, taking hundreds of city workers to their jobs and drones swept the pavements clean on a continuous loop, never needing rest.
Ignoring the scenes around him, a young man tucked his books to his chest and stumbled around masses of other new students, old students, lecturers and general public on a crowded campus. Rhys was on his way to college. First week in a big town, a city almost, and the first day in a university he’d wanted to go to for ages. His parents had tried to dissuade him. “Stay home” they’d said to him, “Work with us on the farm, it’s no life, studying all the time, you want the fresh air” as they’d gestured to the wide open spaces where they farmed cattle, sheep, even chickens. But he was sick of the farm, sick of the early mornings and late nights, the physical labour and strain on his back. He was only 21 for goodness sake and he wanted an education, and by the Gods he was going to get it. Although, whilst he was glad to be here, he was a little homesick for the wide open spaces. The sky here was too close.
The buildings were so tall, and so clean, bright and shiny. They had beautiful intricate patterns built into the glass and steel structures that loomed over the older, brick buildings, squat and ugly in their historic settings. The metro linked a lot of the taller buildings up, walkways between groups of skyscrapers too, saved people descending hundreds of floors, personal airships crowded the sky and even on a bright, clear, sunny day it was hard to get a sense of openness and height like back home.
“OOF” A well built, dark haired young man had run into the back of Rhys, causing him to scatter his papers and books over the floor like a badly written 1990’s teen film. He smiled briefly at the thought of the ancient classic films they were shown in high school before getting on his knees and grabbing his things. The boy who ran into him crouched down to help. “Dude” he offered him a folder “mate, I am so sorry, but like, you were just stood there, what were you doing?” “Oh, sorry, I was just…I don’t know, I guess a bit overwhelmed, I’m new here” “Ahhh, country boy huh? You’ve got that look about you. I’m Baz, I’m in charge of socials here, mixers, parties, informals and formals and so on. You thinking of joining a group?” “I…I don’t know?” Rhys rubbed his nose, and sign of nerves, and grinned shyly at this onslaught of friendliness. “Great!” Baz was like a one man hurricane of enthusiasm, it was hard not to instantly like him, “Look, I’m organising an ice breaker at the student guild hall tonight, why don’t you swing by? Find me, I’ll get you a drink, introduce you to a few people, I feel bad slamming into you like that” “Ok, sounds erm…cool I guess?” Rhys took the leaflet Baz was offering and grinned his shy grin again, “I’ll, see you then?” “Yea! Great dude, ok, cool, see ya then”. Baz waved over his shoulder as he jogged off into the crowd. Rhys hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, grabbed his armful of books even closer and made his way to the first class of the semester.
Later that evening Rhys stood in front of the mirror he’d brought from his room back home and adjusted his shirt.
‘Tucked in, or left out?’ he wondered to himself, untucking and tucking his shirt from his new jeans. Usually wearing bust up Levis on the farm to do the work he felt strange wearing “smart” jeans. One last look in the mirror. “I’ll do” he said to himself out loud. The students guild hall was in an old part of the campus, from back when it was first built. Made of red brick and stone, it was a stout, unsightly building compared to the tall, elegant glass spires that twisted into the sky. It has it’s own appeal though, the stone work was intricate, and inside the marble floors and high, curved ceilings were reminiscent of old money, very old. Rhys could hear the music before he’d even walked through the door. Showing his student ID to the bouncer, he was nodded through and he entered the main room. Almost immediately Baz came bounding over to him like an excited puppy. “Mate! You made it! Awesome! Follow me!” Before Rhys could even say a word Baz grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bar. “What’ll it be pal?” “Oh…erm, just a coke thanks, I don’t drink” “Cool” shrugged Baz and waved at the bartender. “So, what are you studying?” Rhys thanked the barman and took a sip. Slightly too warm, but it was ok, as far as cola went. “Oh, network engineering – I’ve always been good with computers” “Oh cool! Ok, so these are the computer tech nerdy guys”. He grabbed Rhys hand and practically dragged him across the floor to a group of people stood around a table. First glance they looked like your average bunch of guys, but you soon saw things that gave them away. A one guy was wearing a red bowtie, elf ear body mods on another guy, a cute tiny girl with blue and green hair was even wearing a nasa t-shirt, that amused him. He was sad when the agency closed down, but everything was privatised these days, and Space-X was doing some amazing things with space. The Mars colonies was his eventual plan, it’s why he took network engineering – can’t beat a farmer who knows how to code he figured. Especially in a colony. “Guys! This is …OH MY GOD Dude I didn’t even ask your name! What am I like” Baz grinned maniacally and punched the top of Rhys’s arm. “WOAH, dude you are SOLID!” He grabbed Rhys’s arm and squeezed. “Um…” The short girl with blue hair poked Baz “When you’re done being…well, being yourself Baz – who is this?” “Haha, omg ok, so he’s new and he’s one of you guys” Baz swung around “OH! Look! It’s that new poetry guy, I'ma catch you later” and he danced off, leaving the group stood blinking. Rhys was beginning to recognise that expression, like surviving a flash flood, but this was a Baz flood. “So….” The girl waved awkwardly “Hi, I’m Ruby, I’m doing network engineering, year one – again….” “Rhys” he said “Year one, first time, but I took a break after school before coming to uni so I’m older too” “Oh, cool” she smiled slowly. It was a strange smile, slow and creeping and all of a sudden she’d been smiling for a while and you didn’t even notice. She wasn’t what you’d call amazingly gorgeous. She was short, really short, and her nose was all snubby, her cheeks chubby and a dusting of freckles covered her nose, cheeks and forehead. Her eyes were hidden behind thick rimmed glasses, but then she smiled and it was like seeing the sun rise on a grey morning.
“Arwen” they guy with elf ears thrust his hand out and pumped away at Rhys’s “year two advanced computer coding” he spoke in a tight, short voice and whilst his smile was friendly enough, the eyes behind it were cold and glittered with ice. He put his arm around Ruby. “We’re together” he smiled again, coldly. “That’s great” said Rhys “I have a girl back home on the farm, I miss her, you’re lucky to be together” he didn’t, but his hackles were up with this guy, and he wouldn’t give him an inch. The bowtie wearing guy coughed and awkwardly put out his hand. “H-H-H-hi. I’m M-M-M-mmmmmm” “Mike” chorused the group, unthinkingly. “M-mike” he said thankfully. “I’m th-th-the group s-s-s-tudent representative” The last word flung itself out of his mouth with such intensity Rhys was momentarily taken aback, but realised this was the way he could get harder words out. Instantly feeling a warmth towards him, Rhys grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. “Nice to meet you” Rhys said, and meant it.
The night wore on and they chatted, Rhys found himself relaxing happily into a group. They all exchanged palm pilot info and got to know each other. Mike shared his love of intricate networking code, and even Arwen chilled enough to talk about farming techniques he knew from his own community. Ruby was chatty but guarded, she didn’t give much away, but he found her easy enough to talk to.
As he chatted away in his new group of friends, someone caught his eye. He peered through the crowds and saw a tall, thin, elegant looking girl. Her arms were covered in bright, watercolour style tattoos, she had a few facial piercings, and bright purple hair. He blinked and she had vanished into the throng of people. He turned back to his new friends, the image of the girl leaving his mind as he chatted away. Happy he had come to the meet and greet now, he found himself looking forward to his time at university a lot more.
It was a couple of days later and he was walking to his class. The pavement less crowded now everyone had started to settle into the routine. The leaves on the tree’s had begun to turn orange. He smiled, there was no need for it, the synthetic leaves on the cities trees worked year round, but every year they turned orange for the autumn and early winter, and shrank away into imitation twigs for the winter, unlike the real tree’s back on his farm, which really did turn orange and shed their leaves. Humans were a funny bunch, he mused, we’ve made such a mess of things, but we still like things to be as they should be. As he was walking along admiring the trees, Rhys noticed the purple haired girl walking towards him. She stopped to look at her palm pilot and Rhys walked over to her.
“Hi” he said…”I, um, I don’t usually do this but I noticed you at the party the other night and …um….I like your hair?” He ended his sentence in almost a squeak as nerves took over and his voice rose. She smiled, a beaming, wide smile that reached her eyes and lit up her entire person. “Hi! Thank you! Most people think it’s too 'out there’ yanno but it makes me happy” She grabbed a bunch of it and flung it about. “it’s so retro right?” “haha, yea I guess” said Rhys “very twenty-tens!” “I know right! I’m Jen by the way”,she stepped in and gave Rhys a quick hug. She was a bubbly, enthusiastic girl and babbled away at Rhys happily, not minding at all he’d approached her. “so, what do you study?” He realised he’d just been starting at her as she spoke, and shook himself internally. “Oh, networking and that..” he said dismissively. “No way, cool! Me too! I’ve just missed the first couple classes but I’m on it now! In fact, I’m meant to be on my way now, are you going that way? I think I’m lost, I was just checking the campus map when you said hi.” “Yea I am actually” Rhys fell into step beside her and they walked to the class together. He found her enthusiasm strange, she reminded him a lot of Baz, in fact, she looked slightly like him too now he thought about it. “Do you, do you know Baz?” He asked her. “YEA! Yea man, Baz is my brother, you know him too?” “He actually invited me to the party the other night, I’ve not seen him since though, is he ok?” “Yea he’s cool, just busy, student council and organising and stuff. He actually graduated last year, but stayed behind and took a job here for a year.” They carried on chatting throughout the lecture, to the disapproving glances of their peers, and into the lunch hall together, not even thinking to call off their conversation, Rhys found himself opening up to her about his whole life, the farm, his loving but slightly over-bearing parents, his desires to join a colony and so on, and she told him all about her family, about growing up with Baz and how they teased each other, and how her complete lack of direction but enthusiasm for computing lead her to take the course. Most days after that they met up and walked to class together, usually with one of the others on the course as well.
That first semester was full of warmth and happiness. Everyone was great friends and very close. Jen and Ruby would tease the boys, threatening to do their make up if they fell asleep, taking silly pictures on their palm pilots and dressing up in costumes at any opportunity. Mikes stutter had become part of the conversation, the gang would fill in automatically for him, or tease him good naturedly about it and though it would never go, when he was with his friends it was much less noticeable. Arwen had lost his stoic coldness once he realised Ruby really was totally into him and he didn’t need to be so guarded. He confided in Rhys one night that his mother and father had a very jealous relationship and he realised that it wasn’t healthy. They talked deeply that night, and as the sun rose the two men were solid friends. The autumn bled into winter which fell into spring. Long nights around campfires drinking and talking turned into long study session as exams loomed and essays were due. The gang could often be found at each others rooms working together, studying, chatting or just playing the VR together. The work was hard but interesting and Rhys was smart enough to cope with the load.
As time went on though, Rhys began to notice Jen was looking drawn, the circles under her eyes were getting darker and she was slowing down. She wasn’t the bubbly, outgoing girl he met at the beginning of the term, even the bright purple hair that first caught his eye hadn’t been re-dyed in a long while.
One day when they were chilling in his room he sat next to her and took her smooth, manicured hands into his large, rough ones. “Jen,” he looked at her seriously, “are…are you ok?” his shyness that had left long ago returning suddenly at the thought of confronting his friend. “Honestly?” She rubbed her face. “I … I don’t think I am.” Her chin wobbled and she took a huge breath in before fiddling with her fingers and avoiding his eye “I know like, that you and Ruby and the others find it easy and I really am trying and I don’t wanna let you down but….like…. I’m struggling with the work and it’s really making me kinda ill. I’m so stressed about not getting a good mark that I can’t sleep, or eat, and of course then I’m tired all the time and I can’t concentrate and it makes it worse. I don’t know what to do” Rhys pulled her into his shoulder and stroked her faded hair.
“Oh Jen you daft girl, why didn’t you say anything, you know we’d help” “I know, but, I don’t want help, I want to be able to do it, but honestly, I really don’t feel very well at all.”
They sat on his sofa and talked, a very serious, very long talk. He hadn’t realised just how ill his friend was. Jen was really struggling with the work, and he could see the mental strain was affecting her physically. By the end of the night they’d talked together about her leaving. He didn’t want her to go, she was his best friend on campus, and his confident in most things, and he realised just how much he really cared for her. But if it was making her poorly, it wasn’t right that she carry on struggling. They dm’d the others and they all came round, palm pilots pinging almost immediately in response and by the end of the night they had, as a group, figured out the best route. Two days later Rhys leaned out of his dormitory window and waved goodbye to her, the promises to talk every single day still on his lips and the smell of her freshly dyed hair in his nose as they’d clung tight. He watched her fathers van full of her things leave the campus and head out onto the road, the electric engine humming quietly as she went out of sight. He cried then. He sat down on his bed, sank his head into his hands and sobbed like he hadn’t since he was a young boy. The last time he cried like this he’d lost his childhood dog to old age. He hadn’t realised just how much he really did care for Jen. The way her smile lit up her face, the infectious bubblyness of her personality, the silly ideas she had and the way she was always there for him. That time he’d caught the most awful cold and she’d brought him chicken soup and teased him about his “man flu”. All of this hit him deep in his stomach. He knew she wasn’t far away, but she’d gone, and it hurt. He cried himself to sleep that night.
The semester spun along, as spring turned into summer they all finished their exams and said goodbye for the summer holidays. Promises to meet up, dm’s from Jen and arrangements were made, and Rhys went home to the farm. He’d missed his parents, and they were thrilled to have him back. The summer passed by in a whirlwind of family gatherings, barbecues and even his cousins wedding. He invited Jen along as his partner and they had the best time, laughing and drinking. Before she left they drove up to meet Ruby and Arwen, and spent a weekend at a lake house. The artificially heated waters filled with screams as the young adults splashed each other and messed about whilst the airships whizzed by in the hot summer sky over head.
Summer soon left and with it Rhys left the farm, this time to a shared house near the college with Ruby, Mike, Arwen and another girl Tina, who was studying Law. Baz had left the university now, moved onto a role in a large company that sent him all over the world. They had the occasional message, or vlog from him in some random country where he’d set up a huge data system, or met some interesting locals he wanted to share.
The year passed slowly, the laughter was much less as the work got harder and everyone more serious. Ruby and Arwen argued hard, and made up even harder, their bedroom door often banged on and a yell to “keep it down” from the other housemates. No one minded really, they all were still as close as could be, and it was a way to blow off some steam. Jen messaged now and then to say she’d make the trip up, but days, weeks and eventually months passed with no visit. She’d taken a role in her fathers company and was learning how to run the business, presumably to take over from him eventually they all said, and she was busy. Exams rolled around again, and the messages slowed to a monthly catch up, and eventually trickled to a stop. Jen would drop him a line now and then, full of news about her life, the bubbly Jen he knew, but on the other side of the country now. The conversations full, but brief. He’d reply with just as much news, but over time, eventually she stopped texting and he stopped replying. Not on purpose, but work, university and life just took over, and Jen, and Baz to an extent, became a distant, fond memory for all of them, a like of a post on Instafan, or a “lol” comment on MyBook and that was it.
University ended and Rhys moved back home. Applications to jobs sent out he took on some freelance work which sent him around the area and eventually around the country. Word got about that he was quick, capable and an honest worker, and he soon found himself charging more and more, and busier and busier. He reached out to Ruby and they went into partnership together, within months they had set up a company and employed more staff. He even managed to do some work for his childhood dream company Space-X before the Mars projects collapsed in a major disaster. Two years after he had left university he was in his office replying to emails and working on a new data centre design when ruby burst into his office and thrust her palmpilot at him. “What?” he mouthed at her. She just grinned and closed the door. “Hello?” he asked, wondering what had got Ruby so excited. “Rhys?” “Jen?” he whispered “Is that really you?” “It IS! OMG RHYS” She squealed and he held the phone away from his ear a second, grinning like a schoolboy. He could hear her manic fast babbling “and so I saw your picture in the Business news section on the pilot when I was catching up and I recognised you like right away and then I saw your company name and so I rang but your line was busy so I tried again and got hold of Ruby and omg doesn’t she sound great are her and Arwen doing ok? I saw on MyBook that they had gone to Bali for the summer don’t they look sweet I can’t believe he got rid of his ears though but I guess we’re all serious now ….” She took a breath. “So, anyway, I’m in your area on business and wondered if you’d like to grab lunch?”
“Um…yea, sure..when?” “Oh, like now?” Rhys burst out laughing, she hadn’t changed a bit. “You know what, yea, why not, I'd like that, There’s a great little fusion place round the corner from the office, do you know the address? I’ll buzz it to your pilot now.” “Yey I got it! Ok, see you in 20 mins?” she hung up before he could reply.
Suddenly his heart raced, he hadn’t seen her in what? Two, nearly three years? Not since the summer of his cousins barbecue? Had it really been that long? He stood in front of the mirror in his office. The same mirror that had followed him all that time ago from his little farm house bedroom, into the city and now into his high rise office. He smoothed his hair down. Money was kind to people and he dressed well, and looked good. But he felt like that out of place country hick thrown into a city party again. He threw on a jacket and stuck his head into Ruby’s office. “So… I’m going to meet Jen for lunch” he said, with a bemused look on his face. “Oh my god” she giggled, “That’s so Jen, so random! You going to Chiaros?” “Yea, love me a bit of fusion”. “You sure do! Ok, have a great time.” “I will” He left the office, shook his head to the offer of a car from his doorman and walked around the block. As he entered the restaurant the owner bustled over. “Mr Rhys sir hello! Table for one sir as usual sir?” “No, actually Chi, I’m meeting an old friend. Two please, and quiet?” “Quiet?” a voice over his shoulder made him jump “since when were we ever quiet?” He turned around to see her stood there, bright purple hair shining as the sun gleamed through the windows and hit it just right, like something from a cheesy movie. She was dressed smartly in a business suit, her facial piercings gone apart from one tiny gem in her cupids bow just above her lip. She grabbed hold of him and squeezed him so tightly he made a slight “urk” noise. “Eep sorry!” she grinned at Chiaro and he grinned back, leading them to a booth and taking drinks orders.
0 notes
Photo
So I struggle with depression - nothing special, same as everyone else on the internet right! It stopped me doing photography for the longest time, but one of my good friends is a model, so i just did it! Anyways - enjoy :)
#nsfw#model#photography#autumn#fall#cheeky#funny#altgirl#tattooedgirl#altmodel#gailharris#whiteravenphotography#depression#justdoit#nudes#naked
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dinner with Christians
*** Disclaimer *** - this is tongue in cheek fun. If you take it seriously and get triggered because bew hew you know a Christians then tough shit frankly. Enjoy! ________________________________________________________________
"Fun as in 'naked twister' fun?" he quipped, slightly too hopefully. Felicity shot him one of her narrow-eyed, ‘you better behave’ sort of looks and squeezed his arm. "It's just that I went to a party once and it was full of forty-something swingers and-" "Oh you did not," She admonished with a flap of her hand that signalled that she didn't believe him and that the subject was dead. "Besides," she added, almost as an afterthought, "they're good Christian people, they wouldn't be into anything like that." "They're what?" A look of horror flew across Max’s face. Last time he’d encountered Christians en masse was his Christening, and he’d slept through that. "Flick! Daaahling! Happy New Year!" A horribly ‘faux posh’ voice echoed from the porch. "Tom, Helen, how are you both, awww!" Felicity gushed, hugging her hosts and flashing air kisses that missed by miles. It was at that moment that the girl that was once Felicity Harbour changed….in a way Max hoped he would never see again. The transformation was devastating, dramatic and swift. In that moment, she had become the entity known as Flick. Max stood in the doorway and juggled the beer, a resigned but somehow desperate expression on his face. What had just happened? It was only seven pm and he already wished the night was over. As he walked into the predictably magnolia and laminate hallway he spared a thought for the lads in the King's Arms, drinking, celebrating, happy, and single. Happy New Year indeed. From inside, the stomach-churning soprano 'Walking in the Air' began to filter through into the hallway and he knew that with certainty it wouldn't be long before Cliff made an appearance too. Tom and Helen were pretty as boring as the house. Helen was slightly overweight and dowdy. Straight mousy hair framed a chubby face and she was dressed in a shapeless floral dress. Tom was the sort of guy you would want to beat savagely and, were it not for the fact that it would be something like kicking a puppy, you feared that you would. Sporting a pair of tortoise shell rimmed glasses and a drab loose knit sweater; he’d also adopted a magnificent eye twitch that Max found compelling. Tom would use words like 'cathartic' and 'holistic' a lot and pronounced the word beautiful as 'buuudafull’. Max ground his teeth together and tried to smile. "So Maximillian nice to finally meet you, how aaaare you? We heard you've been mentally ill is that right?" Tom said all in one breathe. Maximillian? Against his better judgement, he shifted the bitter into the crook of his arm and grasped Tom's limp, slightly damp hand, pumping it in greeting whilst brandishing a vaguely threatening fake grin. "No, no it was a week off work for compassionate reasons, some work rela-" "Super! Well, this is my wife Helen…" Tom cut in with a disarming smile and a sweep of his hand. Feeling more than very put out, Max braced himself as Helen approached him for a double air kiss and he was horrified to note a wispy, grey moustache lying in wait across her top lip. She smelled faintly of Yardley’s English Lavender, and that was no great surprise either. Helen also had this irritating habit of talking to you through either closed or wildly fluttering eyelids, it made him wonder whether half way through a conversation he could nip away and come back without being noticed. "Soooo gooooood to seeee yooooou," she whined. Tom and Helen invited them into an untidy living room and introduced them to the others: Jed and Hannah, Campbell and his friend Philip, and Camilla. "Guys, this is Maximillian, Flick's beau – he's recently been mentally ill," Tom was saying, nodding sagely, "So let’s hope he finds tonight's diverse social integration… cathartic." Max raised a hand in salute. "Well, I wasn't strictly ill, but hello." Something told him that the five pints of John Smith's he'd downed before meeting Flick and friends wouldn't be enough. He then noticed Jed was wearing sandals with Argyll socks and briefly flirted with the idea of running away – quickly. Dinner was a bland vegetarian affair that Helen had managed to become tearful over when she discovered that she had burned the crust of the leak and leak pie. The potatoes were more than slightly underdone and the onion gravy watery beyond compare, although the Swede and carrot mash was passable. She seemed heartened by the fact that her eye-watering, sugar-free rhubarb and gooseberry compote was edible, or at least that was the suggestion that everyone had given her by doggedly finishing their bowls. "I think I've just developed a stomach ulcer," Max whispered to Flick, who shushed him tetchily. "Matchmakers and coffee?" offered Tom, as if it was the height of sophistication. "I'll stick with the beer, thanks." Max pointed to his fast depleting stock. The group had barely managed to empty three bottles of predictably cheap wine over dinner. He cracked open another can and tried to get comfortable on the lumpy sofa. "So," Jed was saying, his legs crossed and his hands constructing a pyramid at his chest, "Hannah and I met Campbell whilst on sabbatical in Bratislava in 1999…" "Yea yea, Bratislava’s an awesome country”; Campbell interjected as if anyone was interested in his point. Max rolled his eyes, but thought again about speaking out, leaving the group to embarrass themselves. "Well, it's funny," Campbell continued in his soft, whiney Scottish accent and patted his 'friends' arm, "because Philip and I met during his gap year in Burundi." "Yes I was working with Médecins Sans Frontières as a volunteer nurse." Philip added with a self-satisfied smile. "Oh that's riiiight," gushed Helen. "I heard that you had done a lot of good work in the Third World." "I now do some volunteer work with special needs, but not as much as I'd like to" Philip continued, "in fact I'm a dedicated helper in the community for a great person called Ben Calloe." “Wonky Ben?" Max said. The front room fell silent. To look at their faces so aghast, one would have thought that he had just dropped his pants. "What? Wonky Ben, gammy leg, he comes in the pub." "He's got cerebral palsy, Max," Philip said with the measured patience of somebody trying to break some really bad news. "Yeah but you want to try and race lad, he's pretty quick after a few rum and cokes I can tell you." "You feed him alcohol?" Campbell seemed genuinely horrified. Max shrugged. "He's a bloke not a gerbil. Why shouldn’t he enjoy a drink or two, he’s still a person". He was vaguely aware of Flick tugging urgently at his sleeve. "What, you've never raced a drunken spazz?" "We don't refer to them as 'spastic' anymore." Hannah said gently. "Anyway…" Tom intervened. "Campbell, you were saying about Burundi…" Max's eyes darted incredulously from speaker to speaker, what irritated him more than the inane anecdotes of who met whom and during what Hutu uprising, was the fact that Camilla simply nodded in agreement to every statement and mmm-mmm'd her approval. This further cemented Max's theory that she had nothing to add to any conversation. Anywhere. Ever. Max sighed and cracked open another can. "So Maxi, did your faith helped you through your period of mental illness?" Tom said, some time later, turning his attention across the table. "Sorry, what?" Max jumped awake from the semi-doze he’d fallen into "Your faith, was it a crutch?" Helen asked. "I found that my faith brought me through my darker moments when I was diagnosed with uterine polyps." "Mmm, yah, polyps." Camilla nodded seriously, shooting Helen a tight lipped look of unswerving support and female camaraderie. "Er, no, I'm not a big church goer to be honest." Or at all, but he wasn’t going to admit that. "Awww." The group crooned in an 'oh you poor, silly, ignorant little man' fashion. He noted that Flick looked suitably embarrassed and could not help but feel a little crow of jubilation inside him. "You really should consider taking Christ into your life." Hannah said. "Mmm-mmm, yah. Christ our Lord." Camilla spouted and actually held up a hand in some sort of 'hey Jesus, here I am,' wave. Max drew a patient breath and forced a smile. "No, thanks all the same. I'm happy with my lot and it's not really for me, but cheers." "Don't worry; I'm sure you will regain your faith with Flick's help, she is such a strong woman." Helen sympathised. "You will find that it was the glory of the Lord that drew you out of your mental illness." "Oh, I'm not so sure!" Max replied smoothly. They all looked at him in earnest. "Yes Max… it was. They nodded as one. "Oh yes, Jesus loves you. He loves us all." Hannah intoned. This was getting a little creepy, and Max edged his way along the sofa. "Doesn't seem to love wonky Ben that much does he now," Max replied sourly. "Ah, don't worry, the Lord has His own plan for Ben. His physical illness is part of god’s plan, as was your mental illness." Max slammed his hand down on the nearby table causing everyone to jump and sending John Smiths tins scattering. Camilla stopped mmm-mmming all of a sudden and looked petrified. He stood up and stared at them all. "Look, I'm not mentally ill. I never have been; I had a week's leave of absence after some work related stresses and my mum dying. And before you say it, no, she's hasn't 'crossed over' or 'become spirit' or whatever it is you nut-jobs think and she's not 'in a better place'. She's in a box, in the ground, in Highgate cemetery. Oh and in case you were wondering, I don't want to join your blasted Christian polyp support group or whatever it is. I have been listening to you lot for the past four hours and you have yet to say anything remotely constructive or interesting!" "Maxi, I really don't think this is-" Campbell began to speak, looking pale. "It's Max you irritating Scottish poof!" "Wha-what?" Campbell and Philip both looked stunned, as if some great and unspoken secret had been splashed across the national news. "Oh come off it, people! If these two were any more mince they'd be a Chilli Con Carne." An awkward silence fell across the group, broken only by Philip, who began to weep quietly into his napkin. He glared at them for a few seconds longer before about turning and striding into the hallway. "Jesus Christ! No wonder they threw you lot to the lions!” The door slammed shut in his wake. "Peace be with you…" Tom murmured cheerlessly, smoothing his pullover.
#christians#writing#short story#funny#christian polyp support group#i wrote this back in 2008 and it still makes me giggle#donttakeitsoseriously
1 note
·
View note
Text
Brief paragraph from a Colourblind AU I felt like writing. Grandad? I asked one day – what are The Colours like? He sighed. You're old enough to know now, but you cannot tell a soul. “I can't see the colours”...he gazed into my eyes intently. “But..” I was confused, “ but, grandma?” “Ahh” He leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his hand over his eyes, “I loved your grandma, I loved her so much it hurt, still does, I loved her enough to pretend I saw them with her, she never knew. I remember when we spoke for the first time. I'd been watching her for a while, I loved how she moved, how she spoke, she used to work in a little café just off the main street you know, I used to go there for coffee on my lunch break. One day she touched my hand when I paid for my coffee, her eyes widened and she just stared about her. The colours, she was transfixed, can you see them? Look! Oh! Look!” Grandad sat back and sighed. “I never say them, but I never told her, we were so happy, we had your dad, and your aunt, and we had a good life, a very good life. The Colours could never compare with that. It was always enough for me that your Grandma had them.”
Soulmate AUs
All these AUs were created by multiple different people on Tumblr, some of them you can find as a Tumblr post screenshot on Pinterest. Just recapping the many types of Soulmate AUs out there! Feel free to use any of them!
Sidenote: How I title these AUs are gonna suck. You have been warned.
Timer Soulmate AU! Where there’s a timer on your wrists that counts down to when you meet your soulmate.
First Words Soulmate AU! Where you know the very first words your soulmate will ever say to you or what you’ll first hear them say when you meet. Alternative: Same thing but you know the words once you turn 18.
Last Words AU! Where you know the last words your soulmate will ever say to you. You don’t know you met them till you lose them.
Age Soulmate AU! Where you stop aging at 18 till you meet your soulmate.
First Touch Soulmate AU! Where there’s a black stain where you and your soulmate should make first contact. Like someone has a black stain over their knuckles. That means they’re going to punch their soulmate (probably at least) upon first meeting and contact.
Writing Soulmate AU! When you write on your skin the same mark appears on the same place as your soulmates. Such as if you doodle on your skin your soulmates gets those doodles on their skin.
Your Name Soulmate AU! Where you have your soulmates name on your wrist. First or last name (up to you). Alternative: Name appears once you’re 18. Alternative: It’s your enemies name on your wrist. Alternative: Both your soulmates name and enemies name, you don’t know which is which.
Other Half Soulmate AU! At birth you are given a necklace that is the missing half of your soulmate’s necklace.
Colour Blind Soulmate AU! Where you’re completely colour blind till you meet your soulmate Optional: Things go back to black and white when they die. Optional: Except of when you meet your soulmate its when you and your soulmate first touch.
Sharing Pain Soulmate AU! Where bruises, cuts, blisters, and such appear on your skin if your soulmate gets them and visa versa. Like if you get a paper cut your soulmate gets the same cut. Optional: You don’t feel the pain of it. Or you do feel the pain of it and can help treat the wound so your soulmate is okay.
Hues Of Hair Soulmate AU! Where you have a strip of your soulmates hair colour on your wrist and when they dye their hair it changes.
Colour Of Your Eye Soulmate AU! Where you only see in the colour of your soulmates eyes, you can’t see other colours till you meet them. Like if your soulmate has blue eyes you can only see blue till you meet them. Alternatively: You can’t see the colour of your soulmates eyes. Not until you lock eyes with them and see a whole new colour in them.
Light Of The Heart Soulmate AU! Where the center of your chest glows when you and your soulmate meet. Ex: That one comic that has the nerd in the jock that’s connected to the original post. Find it on pinterest if not on tumblr.
Fear In My Soul Soulmate AU! Where you feel when your soulmate is about to die and can help prevent it. Like you feel a pain in your soul when they’re in trouble.
Heterochromia Soulmate AU! Where you have one eye that’s your your eye colour and the other has your soulmates eye colour. When you meet and make eye contact, your eyes switch back to their original owner.
Mark We Share Soulmate AU! Where you and your soulmate have identical marks that match each other. Like you have the mark of a cat curled up in a ball, your soulmate has the exact same cat. Optional: When you and your soulmate make physical contact, the mark moves to meet each other. For example your soulmate touches your hand, both of your cats rush up to meet each other. (This one came from @gallopingmonroe-blog)
Red Thread Of Fate AU! You know the legend of the red thread of fate? That’s this AU. A red thread of string on your pinkey finger that connects you to your soulmate. The thread cannot be broken but it will stretch and tangle.
Keep reading
18K notes
·
View notes
Photo
#gavin is screaming#in the distance#wtfbritain#likewheredidthisfuckingheatcomefrom#i'mnotonetomoanbutreally#ithinkiactuallymelted
0 notes
Text
A hard penis is not consent
It’s not. Don’t be that person
0 notes
Text
How to train your wife
**Trigger Warning** If you’re all not into BDSM or you don’t like the idea of training someone then don’t read. This is PURELY fantasy and may not sit well with some people. Do Not Read It if you’re gonna get triggered by extreme dominance.
*******************************************************************************************
A door slammed and the sound of heels echoed around the marble entrance hall. A tall, shapely woman strode across the room, pulling off her riding gloves as she did so. She looked up and saw her butler standing at the top of the stairs in the entrance hall. 'Oh, Clive, would you be so kind as to bring tea into the drawing room. I'm so tired after my ride' 'Right away my lady' Clive walked off. As he went Elizabeth admired his round buttocks, framed in smart cut black trousers he wore as part of his uniform. Her often absent husband had given her leave to hire and fire staff as she saw fit, and so far, most of the staff was good looking, young and very obedient, just how she liked it.
She went upstairs to her room, and had her maid servant help her out of the rest of her riding gear. She stepped into the shower and rinsed away the sweat and grime that had accumulated as she galloped through the park, straddled across a powerful beast.
The water caressed her curvacious body, and ran down between her legs. She shampooed her thick, chocolate coloured hair and massaged her scalp slowly, enjoying the feeling of her fingers against her scalp. Riding hats always left one's hair feeling flat and in need of a good seeing to she thought. As she ran the shower head through her mane, she felt the water trickle down her body, and a tightening in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Clive's pert arse made her smile. She rubbed some shower gel into her hands and slid them over here body, relaxing in the heat and the wet. Her fingers slid down to the damp curls between her legs, and teased in between her lips, which were already lubricated with anticipation. She rubbed at her swelling clit and with her other hand pulled at her pale pink nipples, which hardened in her grasp. After a few moments she lifted the shower head from it's cradle and focused the water on between her legs. The powerful jets quickly made her knees weak, and as a shuddering orgasm hit her she bit her lip and moaned quietly in the steam. It was no lasting intimate moment with a fresh young lover, but as a quick release it did the job nicely. She rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. Rubbing herself down with a towel she turned to her maidservant.
'Lucy - please can you help me into my dressing gown.' She loved playing games like this. Naked and glistening from the shower, she stepped into the dressing gown held open for her. Pulling it around her, she happened to make her maidservants hand touch her bare breast. Lucy blushed and jumped backwards. 'Please, my lady, forgive me I...' Elizabeth touched her hand to the young girls face. 'Don't worry about it, I'm sure it was an accident, there's nothing wrong with touching me. I like it. Do you like it?'
She grabbed the girls hand and slid it under the fold of her gown to her beast, and pressed it there. Lucy blushed even harder, but didn't pull her hand away. Elizabeth squeezed Lucy's hand, forcing it onto her breast and closed her fingers around the nipple, pulling it slightly. Lucy licked her lips, not meeting Elizabeth's eye. Suddenly Elizabeth pushed her hand away. 'That's enough little one' Lucy ran from the room, her face ablaze.
Elizabeth laughed, oh yes, she enjoyed the games. She would never do anything more than that with a female, it wasn't her thing, but she really enjoyed the games. She wrapped herself up and made her way to the drawing room where a nice cup of tea was waiting. Elizabeths husband, Bill, came home later that evening. Elizabeth was stretched out on the sofa in front of the fire, her face flushed from the wine she had been drinking. 'Darling' she placed the laptop to one side, stood up and swayed slightly as he came in. 'Hello Liz, have you had a nice day?' 'Oh yes' she popped another chocolate into her mouth, licking her lips as she savoured the taste. ' I had a lovely ride in the park, and a relaxing shower. Then I lay here and caught up with my emails'.
'How nice, glad you can relax.' Bills hand slid down her back to her rounded backside, and squeezed slightly. Elizabeth pulled away.
'Not now darling, I have a headache' she picked up the laptop and turned away from him. He frowned, he was getting tired of this. Every night the same, a headache, or she was 'on' - he thought women only had one a month - or some other excuse. It had been nearly 3 weeks now, and he was getting very horny. His wife was a beautiful woman, and he knew full well she was getting her kicks whilst he was away on business. Luckily, for him at least, things were about to change. 'Liz, I'll be away on business from tomorrow for three days' I should be back late Monday evening.'
'Ok' a brief reply, she didn't even raise her head. Looking over her should he saw she was reading something, and from the way she was licking her lips it was probably the erotic fiction she seemed to be addicted to. He shook his head and went to his room to pack.
Bill left early the next morning, and as soon as he had gone Elizabeth made her way down to the stables. When she got to the yard there was a man there, one who Elizabeth hadn't seen before. 'Excuse me, hello, can I help you?' He turned at smiled at her. 'Ahhh' he said, ' you must be Liz'. She looked him up and down, he as tall, about 6'4" she guessed, and well built. His hair was dark brown, with a few streaks of grey at the temples. 'It's Elizabeth, who are you?' 'I'm James, and I'm going to be your tutor?'
'My tutor? But, I can already ride, very well, you're not needed'. She tuned her back on him, and spoke over her shoulder. ' One of the servants will see you out, please shut the gate after you.' 'I'm not here to teach you to ride' she heard him say from right behind her. A medical smelling rag was pressed to her face and everything went black. When she came round she was stripped naked, and bent over a saddle rack. It had been bolted to the floor, and her ankles had been forced apart and strapped to the legs of it. She started to struggle, but she was fastened securely and there was no escaping. She began to yell. 'Oh my GOD -What is going on - let me go!'
From her position she saw a pair of boots walk across and stand in front of her. 'Someone has been a very bad girl, a very very bad girl. Now, there are rules. You will speak when spoken to, you will do as you're told, and you will not disobey - or you will get punished'. 'What are you talking about - do you know who I am, let me go! My husband will hear of this!' Before she had finished speaking she heard a swish and screamed out as something thwacked her bare buttocks. 'Speak when spoken to, and do not disobey. I give the orders, not you' 'I will not...' The words had barely left her mouth before another thwack was laid across her backside. She started to sob.
James crouched down, and lifted her chin so she was looking at him. His face was gentle, and faint lines etched in the years creased it in a pleasant way. He was nice looking, not stunning, but pleasant to look at. He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger, taking a tear and pressing it to his lips. 'I promise you this, you will not get harmed, and you will enjoy this. You are going to become the perfect woman. Obedient, willing and able to please her husband in all the ways a good wife should. I know your limits, and I will break them, and you, before our time together is up. Struggle if you want - it will only make thing make things worse for you. Like I said, you're going to enjoy this, and so am I.' He stood up, and tapped a riding crop gently against the side of her face. 'This will be your friend, you will learn to respect it, you will learn to love it, and accept it. Give it a kiss' Elizabeth looked up at him and raised her eyebrows. She laughed. 'Kiss it - are you joking?' 'No' He stood to her side and brought the crop against her upturned buttocks. She barely had time to cry out before he did it again, and again. 'Kiss it' She lifted her tear stained face and placed her lips against the crop. 'Good girl' James un-strapped her ankles, then her wrists and helped her into a standing position. She winced as her back adjusted to standing after being bent over for so long. He led her towards the watering trough where she filled the horse's buckets. She knew better than to speak just yet, even thought she was having to bite her tongue, her backside was still smarting from the crop's bitter thwack. 'Come here and suck my cock' James said to her all of a sudden. 'Pardon?' She said in astonishment 'I most certainly will not, that's disgusting!' She had given one blowjob in her life, her first boyfriend in his car up the top of a hill; she hated it then, and refused to do it again. Bill was always trying to change her mind, but she stood firm. Just like she did against anyone going down on her, the mere thought turned her stomach and made her cringe. 'Wrong answer' He said to her. 'Care to try again?' 'Not a chance! Now you're going too far'. She folded her arms and tried to stare him out, but he ignored her glare and walked past her, to a bunch of, what looked like, horse tack. Elizabeth had had enough; when his back was turned she made to walk out of the yard, still naked. James grabbed her round the waist. 'Oh no' he dragged her to the trough, 'that's naughty, and what happens to naughty girls?' 'Get off me!' she squealed and wriggled as he tied her wrists behind her back with baling twine. He slapped her backside hard and she stopped squirming, standing there quivering in rage, fear and pain. He walked in front of her, and smiled his gentle smile. TURNING to the pile of tack and lifting up a leather horse collar, designed for the draught horses .He placed it over her head, and she was forced to bend over to accommodate the weight. 'Heavy is it? Can you stand up?' 'No – I can't' she whimpered. 'Try.' He tickled her bum with the crop 'or you know what you'll get'. She grimaced and tried to stand, managing it with difficulty. He patted her on the head, then began to hang weights off the collar, every now and then tapping her arse and making her try to stand up. Eventually the weight was too much, and she had no choice but to bend over, and stay there. 'Mmmm, very good' he said, admiring his work. He helped her carry the collar, and placed her over the trough. She bent over and her breasts touched the cold water, making her squeal. She tried to stand up, but the collar was too heavy, and she was forced to remain bent over, her nipples submersed in the water. He strapped buckled leather cuffs to her ankles, and with a series of taps with the crop between her thighs, left then right, making her spread her legs wide, fitted them to some rings that were on the floor so she couldn't kneel down, just stand there with her legs spread apart. 'You're a naughty girl' James said as he stroked the red streaks that adorned her otherwise pale backside. 'And you're a fucking psycho' she replied, and was instantly silenced with a stinging slap to her sore backside. 'You are – you're mad; I don't know what you want! Why are you doing this?' She began to cry again, tears rolling off her cheeks and into the water below. 'I told you, you're going to become the perfect wife. Willing, obedient and eager to please.' 'The fuck I am – I'm fine as I am' 'I beg to disagree' he said, and slapped her again. She cried out. 'Anything else to say?' he asked her. She began to speak, but thought better of it. 'Play along' she thought, 'and he might get bored'. 'Good – now, as your punishment you're going to spend time, in silence, think about what you've done, and what you're going to do. I do hope you don't worry about my dog…too much.' As she opened her mouth to protest he rammed a ball gag into it, and buckled it behind her head. Her eyes widened in shock as she found herself silenced for one of the first times in her life. She moaned in protest behind the gag, but he ignored her, fastening a blindfold around her eyes. He breathed against her ears, sending a shiver down her spine then placed industrial earmuffs over her head. Silenced, and unable to see or hear anything, her other senses went into overdrive. She could smell the hay from the barn, and the sickly sweet tang of the muck heap. Her nipples were stinging from the freezing water and she ached all over from the weight of the collar. The position she was forced in, her arms behind her back, bent over with her legs spread, was uncomfortable but bearable. As she stood there freezing cold and aching, her nipples began to tingle. The freezing water hardened them, but caressed at the same time. She began to feel her pussy respond, her clit began to throb, and a familiar ache settled in between her spread legs. She tried to wriggle her hips to relieve herself slightly, but only managed to cause shooting pains up her spine and her breasts swing, renewing the sensations that enveloped her nipples, making her clit throb even more. She stayed this way for a long time, how long she had no idea, it could have been half an hour, or three hours, time meant nothing to her in her enclosed space. Sufficient time had passed to dry her tears, though now and then she refreshed them with the pleasure of feeling sorry for herself. A pleasure she was soon to give up. A tickle started on her leg, waking her from the light sleeplike state she had fallen into. It persisted, and behind her blindfold, her eyes flew open as she remembered James' threat about the dog. He must have been joking, but in her deprived state sensible thoughts were masked by rising panic. She felt a hot breath on her leg, and began to wriggle as a tongue touched her. The tongue began to make its way up her leg, and she writhed some more, disgust and loathing taking over her rational thoughts. As the twirling licking tongue traced patterns on her skin, she calmed down enough to realise the movements were far too deliberate to be an animal of any sort and his threat was designed to scare her, but the dawning lead to a new horror, her fear of oral sex. The tongue moved up her leg, the owner using nothing else to touch her with. Lapping behind her knees caused her legs to buckle, but the weight of the collar brought the stabbing pains again. Standing firm again, she was aware of a dribble of liquid slowly running down her inner thigh… but the tongue had yet to reach. She was ashamed at her body's reaction to something her mind felt so repulsed at. But as she stood there, bent over, with the hungry tongue lapping at her thighs, teasing her, tickling her, she began to relax, and wonder why it was she hated it so much. The thought made her feel sick, but why – the actual act wasn't so bad; strike that, she thought, as the tongue reached the crease between the top of her thigh and her buttocks, the actual act was starting to feel pretty damned good. She began to whimper as her sex tingled with anticipation. The tongue touched lightly on her buttocks, and slid closer to her crack, twirling slowly as it moved across. Suddenly, as quickly and unexpectedly as it started, the tongue stopped, and her earmuffs were removed. After so long in silence, she expected the slightest noise to hurt her ears, but there was no noise. She moved her head from sided to side, trying to catch a hint of what was happening in her still darkened world.
She felt a movement at the back of her head, and her blindfold fell away. The light stung her eyes and she blinked. When her vision cleared she saw James' boots in front of her face. Elizabeth began to murmur into her gag, trying to convey her pain to this man she barely knew, this man who had held her and teased her, hurt her and yet, managed to make her pussy throb at the same time. He stroked her hair, and crouched down in front of her, leaning across the trough. He looked deep into her eyes. 'Have you had enough yet?' he whispered? She nodded frantically. 'Are you ready to suck my cock yet?' The seconds hesitation and the look in her eyes was all he needed, he plunged his hands into the water and pinched hard on her aching nipples. A muffled shriek erupted from her throat, and tears leaked into her eyes. He twirled them almost absent mindedly between his fingers, staying crouched in front of her. She shut her eyes, and tried to block out the feeling. They opened wide in shock again when she felt the mystery tongue begin its lapping again, this time beginning on her buttocks. James was still pulling and teasing her nipples, so who was licking at her? She struggled in vain, knowing she was bound, but her body moving of its own accord. Painfully slowly the tongue traced a line from the middle of her cheek across to the middle of the other, skipping over her sensitive crack. It danced around, flitting over her skin and driving her mad. Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore it stopped moving erratically and moved in a deliberate line from her cheek towards her crack, it withdrew for a brief second, only to come back wetter than before. The tongue stabbed sharply against her arsehole before withdrawing. She wriggled her hips, but stopped when she felt a hot breath against her moist pussy lips. Looking at James, her eyes pleading with him to let her go, her lips tingled as the tongue licked first across one, then the other. James continued to stare at her with his steady, unfaltering gaze. The tempo of the licking increased, long slow strokes began first up one side, then the other. She felt exposed, more so than just mere nakedness, exposed and humiliated. Her body was responding in ways she didn't want it to. She felt good and bad all at the same time. She hated being made to do anything she didn't want to, and this was definitely something she did not want to do. Her juices began to run down her leg as the hungry tongue lapped away at her lips, so far avoiding her hidden throbbing tip. She hated it, but wanted it at the same time, confusion and desire raced through her body, making her cry in frustration. Elizabeth felt the tongue switch tactics; it stopped its long, slow strokes and started a series of shorter ones, each time closer and closer to her aching centre. She gasped as it dived into her juicy entrance and lapped up the juices that were now flowing freely from it. It felt good, but did nothing to satisfy her ache, a deep ache that was more than anything she had ever felt before. She bit down onto the gag – glad of it for the first time – as finally the tongue pressed against her clit, and circled it. A deep, needing feeling started to build in her groin. She moaned against the gag and her knees buckled. James increased the pressure on her nipples, and the tongue increased its ceaseless circles, wetter, and faster, and harder. She ground her hips against the tongue, all shame gone from her as base instincts took over. She panted, pushing her breasts into James hands as his fingers tweaked and pulled. She cried out as wave after wave of contractions encompassed her in a violent shuddering orgasm. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed against the trough, the pain from her ankles overwhelmed by the aftershocks still flooding through her. James unbuckled her ankles and lifted off the collar. She didn't move for a few seconds, only shifting when James bundled her into his arms and lifted her off the floor. 'You did well' he breathed into her ear. He carried her across to the house, halfway across the yard she began to struggle. He dropped her on the floor, and quickly picked her up again in an over-the-shoulder move. He was strong, very strong, and all Elizabeth could do was kick her legs and squeal. 'Put me down…let me …go' this last shout was accompanied by a violent twist, but to no avail. James strode onwards, ignoring her protests. Her bare backside was on show far all to see. Though the house was well back from the road, and screened by a large wooded area in front, the staff were always around. As James got to the house, Elizabeth began to shriek for Clive. Sure enough he appeared at the front door. 'Yes Miss' he said, as if nothing we amiss. 'Clive will you get me down or call the police or do something!' 'I'm afraid I can't do that Miss' Clive stood aside to let James walk through, still carrying his prize like a hunter with a brace of duck. 'Clive what the hell are you doing? For gods sake man, will you help me!?' Clive just watched impassively as his mistress was carried into the house by a strange man. He took her through into Bills office. Elizabeth rarely entered, the last time she had been in here as when her laptop was being repaired, and she wanted to look at a new horse online. It had changed. Gone was the dark wood desk and comfortable leather computer chair. Gone also were the dark wood book cases, indeed, all the furniture had been removed and replaced with something far far different.
#bdsm#50shades#somuchbetterthanthat50shadesshit#justthrowingitouttherebutilikewriting#lilbitpervy#perversion#submission#dominance
0 notes
Text
It’s all wrong...and yet
She stops and thinks about the past year, how those strange, liberating and unusual feelings surfaced when, as a dominant person, she gave ownership of herself to someone completely for the first time.
It took her by surprise.
As someone who had lived their life as a dominant person, in all aspects, she suddenly found that she was willing, more than willing ; she desired it completely, she wants to give herself to that someone in all aspects.
The intensity of the feelings she found that she had for someone she barely knew was scary, really scary. But part of her enjoyed the thrill of the fear. Of the unknown.
She trusts her life in the hands of this person, and yet she knows just how much it could all go so badly wrong. She knows that that they're cold, and bad for her in a way, and they'll hurt her eventually - perhaps even intentionally.
And yet.
She keep on keeping on because that pain, oh boy, that pain..... is it worth that pain? Is it ever. Every moment, every sideways glance at the phone screen on a video chat, every flash of an unexpected smile, a chuckle. Those throwaway comments that take your breath away without even thinking about it.
She aches to hold them, to be hold by them, to give herself over, mind, body, and soul, to their darkest, most twisted, fucked up perversions. It's unbearable when they're apart, ecstasy when they're together. It will never work, and yet it won't stop. Can't stop. It's too perfect.
She sighs.
0 notes
Video
tumblr
I do a gallop.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Same though.....
i dont even interpret “uwu” as a smiley i just read it as “oo woo”
516K notes
·
View notes
Photo
I don’t really model - so this is new to me! But really enjoyed a brief trip into the woods to play Titania! Oh if only I had an Oberon!
106 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Small sneak peek!
21 notes
·
View notes
Photo
What if I grow the cows myself o.0
GAMETEE: Finest Leather Gaming Notebooks: 2nd Edition is Live and now funding on Kickstarter. They are the perfect companions to organised tabletop gaming sessions and ideal accessories for any professional or aspiring DM, as well as just being a wonderful tool to inspire and inform character roleplay. We love how artists are using them too. Gametee is an entirely female company run by two young artists and really deserving of your support. So please help spread the word if you can! Join the Campaign: [HERE]
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Do these instructions count if you're riding....
Instructions for a walk in the woods
Never turn around to check behind you. You’ll see nothing, but once you start doing it you won’t be able to stop, and an ominous feeling will follow you until you don’t lock your house’s door behind you.
If you stand very still and listen you will hear the woods calling for you. Don’t answer. Never answer.
You’ll hear things quietly following you, hidden in the trees by your sides. It’s okay, they’re just checking on you.
Don’t be scared, but be really, really wary.
If you have a bad feeling about taking a certain path, don’t. You’ll avoid whatever is waiting for you at the end of it.
You never know what may be buried under the soil you’re walking on. Remember that every time you take a step. Pray that whatever it is, it won’t wake up.
Be careful not to step on any beetle, or you’ll never get rid of them.
If you bring a knife with you, name it. Otherwise the blade will turn against you as soon as you try to use it.
Make sure you remember the way back home. As soon as you get lost, you’re just another piece of fresh meat.
192K notes
·
View notes