Dec 032014

It was freezing but gorgeous. She still thought herself crazy for agreeing to it. She hated the cold, it made her tense up until she felt sore, and yet she had agreed to be naked in it at some point.

She trudged along, behind her partner’s broad and tall back, made even broader by the layers of snow clothes and backpack. She couldn’t help but be slowed by gazing around at the glistening pristinely white scenery, but he was accustomed to her awe at nature and was patient when she fell behind. She could only steal quick peeks at it, however, as the snow covered ground made hiking treacherous with hidden rocks and roots below the fluffy, powdery whiteness. And while she couldn’t see beneath, she tried to follow his flaked swept trail.

She loved it out here; so did he; they hiked in all weather and so she wasn’t overly concerned as she plodded along.  He picked a great day for this excursion, as the snow wasn’t blinding with an overcast sky.

The air felt thin at their high altitude, and she felt sweaty despite the freezing temperature. Right when she felt that her legs would protest too much and call for a break, the tree line thinned at the crest and the backdrop view  of the mountains was breathtaking. There was a large boulder below a bare, gnarly tree ahead of them, and she knew that was where he was planning on doing the photo shoot.

He stopped, pitched their tiny tent for the occasion and placed the sleeping bag inside, and began unloading the rope and photo equipment that was so weighty upon his back. She rotated her own much smaller pack to the ground in front of the tent, crawled into the small opening, took a small sip of water as she didn’t want to pee out in the elements then realized she would be bare anyhow and still deciding she didn’t want to pee. She unloaded the sealed heat packs and  spread them into the corner for easy accessibility when she came down from poses to quickly warm up as he prepared for the next shoot. What was she thinking? she thought as she watched her breath mist in front of her face.

It would be beautiful, and she trusted her partner, she amended. The setting was spectacular, breathtaking already.

“Here, give me your wrists, remove your gloves. We’ll keep on your jacket and pull the rope through when it’s time.” He gave a sheepish smile, as if to apologize for the cold he knew he would be subjecting her to. She did, and watched his concentrated face as he worked the knots around, bending to give a gentle kiss on each palm when he finished. “Keep on your lower garments, but remove your top half, now,” he instructed, and she sucked in an icy breath at the expectation of willingly being cold. She quickly shed her clothes while he assisted the untied portions of rope through her clothing. Her nipples instantly perked up, and he obviously noticed, winked at her. “This’ll be fun, babe,” he promised, and she wondered fun for whom? After quickly tying her torso, he wrapped the sleeping bag around her as they undressed as swiftly as possible her lower half, the rope zinged around itself and whipped her a few times in the momentum.

She realized this whole thing would feel like a race, though she was sure the pictures would come out more serene.

He picked her up and carried her, placed her on the boulder he had brushed clear of snow. He tucked a heating pack under one foot and she felt the warmth, a little too hot to be stepping on, but far too arctic to want to get off of. She shivered as he worked on stretching her wrists above her head on the branch, her skin was covered in goose bumps and prickled from the chill. He had to navigate in his hiking boots in strange positions to balance between the boulder and the tree with rope being thrown, but before she knew it, she was spread out. The foot once on a heating pack was now on tiptoes, the other ankle tied up towards a branch with one wrist above her, another wrist tied to the trunk of the tree. She felt like she looked like a star pointing in all directions, and while it wasn’t windy, her thighs tensed with the cold that penetrated into her normally protected slit.

“Exposed to the elements,” he stated, the clicking of the camera accompanying his words. “That’s what this will be called.” She did feel exposed.

She hoped it would be done soon. Normally flexible, her body felt overly stretched when it fought the cold and she kept trying to think of warm thoughts and being back in the bag with heat packs around her. Of course, she realized, it wouldn’t be for too long as they agreed to take several different scenes.

She was apparently not exposed enough, as  he put down the camera and came at her with more rope. “Real quick,” he promised when she shot him a concerned glance. He quickly tied rope around her waist and between her legs. She was surprised that as it slid between her folds she felt turned on, despite it hurting slightly in his haste and roughness. He parted her lips with the rope, tied tightly to keep it there, and she felt incredibly vulnerable. The ice moved in further, and it stung, and suddenly his lips and breath chased away the chill and replaced it with warmth at her entrance. Suddenly, her body’s focus gravitated towards that warmth and heat seemingly seeped through her torso.

How could she want him in this environment? But she was shocked to discover she did. Her legs screamed with tension, “pictures first,” she said softly, and the ice seeped back as he left her to snap a few more pictures from some intimately close angles.

“When we are done, you will feel the snow on your skin, but we will make it melt with our bodies,” he said, and she couldn’t decide if it was a threat or promise. She clenched her hands around the rope as her body clenched in excitement, regardless of the cold.


A Darker Flame Badge - S

 Posted by at 6:50 am
Oct 132014

The ball was to be their last. It was bittersweet.

The dress had so many layers to it, a perfect analogy to how Nicole felt. So much to hide covered in such pretty packaging. She was grateful for the matching burgundy mask, with its sparkling jewels accenting her sparkling tears. She felt stifled it both contraptions and she was done being stifled.

Christophe was to meet her here. She paused at the top of the grand staircase and looked into the hall, feeling flustered at such a daunting task as finding him amongst the crowd below with so much to hide. She snapped open her fan and waved it, hot and overwhelmed. She placed a gloved hand on Henry’s arm, looked up at him and smiled with veiled enthusiasm.

“Shall we?” he gestured to the stairs and slowly led her down into the depths. She tottered on too tight shoes, shoes not even revealed through the pompous fluff yet impractical nonetheless. She shook with too tight strung nerves, and yet Henry seemed oblivious to it all. He was always so composed, her companion. She took her hand back when they reached a more solid foundation, aimlessly moved about the room and made false pleasantries.

A mutual friend asked for a dance, and once again she fought not to stumble, feeling unbalanced. His lips moved, and while she couldn’t see his face, he would still have been like every other man in the room, every man but Christophe.

Out of the corner of her eye as she was being spun around, she thought she saw someone gaze at her intently. She almost missed a step, gripped her partner’s shoulder more tightly than normal. The man grinned at her. She scanned the room, as if nonchalantly, her heart beat capriciously.

And there he was, lopsided grin, ice blue eyes barely visible beneath a black veiled mask, matching dark hair softly curling at the edges of his mask. Her fingers itched.

“Excuse me, I need some air,” she mumbled and without even looking at her dance partner, disengaged and walked off of the dance floor, thoughtlessly drifting among the dancers towards a side of the room, trying to keep her roaming eyes focused on the porch behind. The crowd seemed to cease to exist, and the starry night beckoned her view from the open doors. She stepped out lightly, fresh, warm air soothed her skin and she decided to stroll through the gardens after pausing just a telling moment.

She smelled the earth, the roses and the bushes. She breathed in the sky. She daydreamed of a moment and stopped in the moonlit shadow of a tree. She heard a rustle in the darkness and felt a hand on her shoulder.

Nicole spun around, placed her arms around Christophe. It was so dark that she missed the magnificence of his eyes. Arms were placed around her and she leaned up to kiss him.

How badly she wanted his kisses, his love. Newly awakened passion surged through her and she softly whispered his name while running her hands inside of his jacket.

Arms gripped her upper arms and pushed her into the light. She wanted to see him too and looked up expectantly, only it wasn’t who she was expecting.

“Louis!” her mouth made a moue after the name, unbidden. Henry’s brother.

“And who were you expecting? Who is this Christophe?” his distaste was obvious, even through is mask. He looked nothing like Christophe, not nearly as tall, though just as wide. She cursed her daydreams into creating an illusion of a different man. She said nothing. He gripped one arm hard and shook her, her pile of curls precariously shifting on her head.  “I saw you disappear in the garden and when I approached you, you threw yourself at me!”

“No, you touched me unwarranted.” Her thoughts raced, her blood pounded. “Why did you disturb my peace? Why did you come after me?” She only had one weapon against him, and suddenly everything became apparent. She threw herself at his chest, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him.

He clamped his lips together for just a moment, and then parted them. She felt relieved and tried not to sigh. He stepped back into the shadows of the tree.

The last ball I attended

The last ball I attended and someone I did not arrive with

“The price of your silence,” she stated as she gripped his jacket and began pulling it off. Dark, she pretended it was Christophe as his mouth slanted over hers in a possessive and demanding kiss.

Nicole wondered where Christophe was, if he had followed her as she passed him the room towards the outside, if he had seen Henry’s brother follow her and retreated, or if he was watching her even now. She prayed he wasn’t watching her even now. Men didn’t comprehend the reasons behind a woman’s actions.

And please, she implored silently, let him not see and feel the need to rescue her. That would be far more explaining than she felt capable of.

And in her current situation, Nicole felt quite capable, all of the sudden.

A Darker Flame Badge - S

 Posted by at 11:27 am
Sep 112014

Everything in the world tears apart. Everything rips apart. Atoms don’t just stay together-but when they do it’s to stabilize, energy clashes-but when it works together it can lead to overcoming resistance. Two people in a shipwreck will hold hands until the sea sweeps them apart, a baby is separated from its mother at birth, children grow and become independent of parents, we depart the very earth in death.

The blizzard was no different. So thick that visibility was challenging, if not for your bright red cap I wouldn’t be able to follow. Our snow boards cutting through the ice and snow weren’t heard through the howl of fierce winds, would snatch our voices and carry them far away from the intended. I simply followed you down the unfamiliar mountain side and thought about silly things like atoms and energy. Lectures I’ve heard you give at the science conferences around the world – you’re brilliant and I am me. People look at us-opposites-and it’s not that you can even claim a genius like you has a trophy woman-for I am no trophy. I am me.

When the shards of ice began to pierce through the thick clothing meant to repel, when my skin felt on fire despite the cold, you sat down and unstrapped from the board. I did the same. A few steps ahead, some branches pulled back, and you pointed me into the entrance of a cave. Hesitantly, with the sound of Hell at my back and unnerving silence ahead, I walk in.

You bump into my back as the sight a few feet inside amazes me. Crystals, large and with almost a glow, hang from the ceiling of rock. A small clear pool of water takes up the center of the misleading large cave. There is no breeze to even come through and the air is noticeably warmer.

“We’ve escaped death,” I voice, “and yet still found Heaven.”

You sit on a large rock and chuckle, taking a glove between your teeth and pulling it off.

I shiver.

“Come,” you say simply, in your way that  you do when you don’t present or lecture. I do, sitting at the ground at your feet and look up as a child would a parent while awaiting the next order. My head rests of your knee and I feel you rearranging your clothing, hear the zipper of what must be your jacket. My own cap comes off, wet by this point, and I know my hair is a mess, but I can’t be bothered to pat it down; I’m tired of struggling through the atmosphere. However, your fingers brush through the damp strands and make some semblance of order. You take my chin and nudge my head up. I stare at your face as you take my small hands and expose them to the air then unzip my jacket; I get lost in your pale blue irises that would rival any freezing. My jacket is peeled back and placed on the ground, and your hand in the center of my chest tells me to follow the warmth of fleece lining. My head rests at the top of the soft-newly-made-blanket, and you kneel beside me and undo my boots, pulling them off.

I know where this is going, am surprised by your passion in the midst of a storm, in an unknown cave on unfamiliar territory. I think of atoms and energy, of rendering apart as you pull my pants off of me and place your own jacket under my legs to extend the blanket. My skin marvels at the lack of cold, gets goose bumps in anxious excitement anyhow.

The tempest no longer scares me, I am not lost or split apart. You and I intertwine, fuse, to contrast this. We are together in no less desperation than the shipwrecked, no less need than the infant or child. We meld together to be alive. We consciously rage war on what keeps distance. Two puzzle pieces fitting together and locking in. My bare legs open, your hips fit in the space, cover half my body, up on an elbow beside my head. Your tongue swirls against mine in a lovely tempo, a hand cups and pinches at my nipple through my sweater-but I can still feel your heat on my globe. Suddenly I am parted and prodded open by you, an almost searingly hard heat. I envelop you, welcome, grasp, clench.

We begin a dance that is as old as storms or mountains or caves. We stabilize and overcome resistance. Nothing exists except you buried deep within me, stroking my inner core, making me burn. We consume each other as fuel, a source of light far brighter than even the lovely crystals hovering above, or the sun somewhere above the weather’s barrier illuminating and penetrating most everywhere else in our solar system. Here, you saturate me. Metamorphosis, a synapsis occurs, I am no longer me; I am all that is around me.

 Posted by at 8:56 am
Aug 272014

He looked in the mirror, astounded.

“Do you not remember?” A female’s voice inquired, somewhere behind him.

He remembered blood soaking the previously dried and cracked ground, seeing his own hands shaking and covered in red.

He turned around and looked at her. She was beautiful, topless. Loose pant fabric covered her lower body.  She proceeded cautiously towards him and the gigantic bed he had woken in, in the middle of the room. Why did she proceed cautiously?

“He doesn’t seem to,” another voice said, an almost identical version of the other woman. She too walked slowly, not removing her eyes off of him.

“Remember what?” he asked.

He remembered cold water washing away the blood, the cracks in the dirt suddenly swollen with the clear liquid to the point of a stream running suddenly. The water felt freezing against his sore knees and sweaty skin.

“Come,” a voice had commanded, and a warm hand gripped his still bloody one. The voice sounded similiar to the females now.

“Becoming king,” the answer brought him out of his reverie.

“Wh-how?” He turned back towards the mirror. His body felt like it had been shredded but he didn’t even any marks on him at all. He was naked and not even a scratch marred his skin.

“The lion.”

He flashed to a roar like the sound of thunder, felt his shoulder tear and rip. He stumbled, a branch in his hand, and spun around. The lion leapt at him, impaling itself on the ragged branch, hurt and swiping at him. He scrambled away, stood and gripped the branch, clubbed the beast on the head, desperately tried to stay out of the path of the claws and felt them rake his leg anyhow. His leg almost gave out and he swung again, and again, the pain ripped through his shoulder, screamed of what he was sure was his death song, his agony and rage.

And when the blood spilled on the parched earth, when the beast went still, he collapsed.

One of the women left his sight from the mirror and he spun around. She was stirring the fire in the large fireplace, knelt on the pelt of a lion…the lion? She saw his look, smiled, and patted the fur. “You saved us, our land is alive again,” she said simply. “Come,” she crooked a finger and beckoned him to come to her, loosened the belt of her pants.

“Come,” she had said then, and the water continued to rise. He gripped her hand, stunned, shocked, unaware that he moved to stand. She led him to the grass that grew right in front of him, that thickened and became soft under his feet. She forced him to lay down on his back beside a trunk of a tree, the leaves sprouted slowly and before his very eyes unfurled and reached out. The hot and burning sun didn’t seem as fierce suddenly. She left him and returned with a pail of the water. She poured small amounts of the water on his shoulder – it cooled and healed. Suddenly there was the second woman who kneeled behind his head, rubbed his muscles, her hands brushed off the dirt and blood, the gore and death. She leaned over and gave him an odd kiss on the lips, then moved alongside him and stroked his skin.

Her breath was hot on his skin beneath his ear before she began sucking and licking. He clung to her, held onto her heat and invitation of body, the other woman still softly poured water, cooling him, made his pain subside. Or was it the excitement, desire, suddenly taking his mind off of his torment?

His body had other pressing needs; he felt himself grow and stiffen, and hands stroked and encouraged until he was hard with need. He felt a tongue swirl along the top, explore the underside of the head, stroke up and down the shaft, before the mouth popped the head inside and wet warmth slid up and down the length of him.

The other mouth moved from his neck and trailed down to his chest, her soft hair floated across his shoulder – no longer burning in anguish, brushed across his chest, feathery lightness following her kisses. Hands caressed his thighs.

Hands caressed his thighs and he looked down, so lost in the memory that he was oblivious he had walked to the pelt and the woman who summoned.

“Didn’t we…?” he trailed off. How to question such a delicate subject? Who knew if he dreamed, was still dreaming?

She smiled up at him, placed a chaste kiss above his knee, not taking her dark seductive eyes from his gaze. “Yes,” she placed another kiss, reached up for his hand and pulled him down. She cupped his cheeks and pulled him towards her for a kiss. Hands roamed his back – the other woman? “Yesterday the earth needed a sacrifice of blood and pleasure to thrive.”

“Today it is about our pleasure, and celebration of our new King,” the other voice spoke quietly behind him before kissing the back of his neck.

He felt himself stirring and hardening. He reached for soft breasts, squeezed their weight in his hands. Later, he would try to remember, to figure out how he ended up here in his traveling.

Right now, it was good to be the King.

 Posted by at 12:43 pm
Jul 292014

*Trigger Warning

As Annie disembarked the small speed boat into the surf of the deserted island. She wondered if this was worth it. Worth all the money spent to get here? To find herself, and be broken. She looked at the small man that brought her and disrobed. This island was here to shed your social skin…and find yourself. She threw her clothes back into the boat. “I will see you in 24 hours, ma’am.” he said to her and sped away. Leaving her alone.


As she was gathering her thoughts and getting her bearings, she saw the glint of a bottle, mostly buried in the sand. Inside she found a note that read: “This is what you wanted, this is what you sought, make three wishes but remember, things won’t be as easy as you thought.” She laughed a little. She wasn’t looking for easy, she was looking for something new.


“Well…wish number one here we go,” speaking aloud she says to the sky, to the waves, to nothing really. “I wish for pleasure.”


Nothing happened right away. Slowly her body began to tingle, starting at her toes. It felt like a million tiny impulses running through her body. A thousand tongues lapping at her skin. Her head reflexively fell back as the sensation neared her hardening nipples; like they were being bitten by two invisible men. She could almost feel the wetness of a mouth.


She  felt  finger tips grabbing her skin. She laid her body down in the sand to better receive and enjoy her transparent pleasure. As soon as her back touched the ground she felt her wrists being pinned down, her legs forcibly spread. Annie moaned and as soon as she took her next breath it felt as though she was being penetrated. She screamed and her chest heaved, she wanted to push her body into whatever was thrusting itself into her, wrap her legs around it and draw it in deeper like she would a man. Instead she came. Hard and wet. She could feel her twat was flushed and creamy.


Just as her breath was slowing, she could feel the pressure leave her wrists and the tingly sensation of pleasure leave her body. Annie laid in the sand for a few moments, sexually spent, feeling ravaged and complete.


As she eventually brought herself to stand she decided to take a better look at her surroundings. There were no structures on the island. No people. She wasn’t sure what the island was. It wasn’t on any maps and was owned by a mysterious gentleman that she never met. Her friend Lisa told her about the island and did all the negotiating for her. Lisa said, “this island is unlike anything you have ever seen. It will provide you with all of your desires.” Once the trip was set she received her list of rules.  Among them was a no clothing rule.


And one that said simply: “Be careful what you wish for.”


The first wish worked out just fine for her. If the other two worked just as well, she was in for a great twenty-two hours. She decided to wait a bit before her next wish. Exploring the beach she found some beautiful shells and saw a pod of dolphins not far from the coast. She found a nice shaded area of trees that had a view of the beach and sat in the lotus position, her back up against one with the smoothest bark. She stretched her arms high above her head, closed her eyes, and made her second wish. “I wish for something unexpected.”


Annie opened her eyes and saw vines travelling down from the leaves, they bound her wrists to the tree and came up from under the sand and restrained her legs. They were whipping around her, lashing her skin like the switches father made her cut for her spankings when she misbehaved as a child.  A thick vine worked its way between her teeth like a bit and she immediately regretted the wording of her second wish. A few thick, sleek  vines started descended from the trees. They were slapping at her skin and heading for the wetness between her legs. She tried and failed to squeeze her legs together. Every time she pulled away her restraints got tighter,  burrowing into her skin. This isn’t what she wanted. But there was nothing that she could do to fight it off…tears fell down her cheeks as the first vine found its hole. It felt as though it was ripping her apart. Two of the other vines were wrapping themselves around her large breasts and they were so tight that they were turning purple and ached.  Waves of pleasure came over her even though she was fighting against it.  She was breathing harder and an orgasm was building deep inside. She was whimpering as the vines were violating her body. The one inside of her felt like it was writhing around in her tight cunt and was getting more aggressive. By now Annie was moaning and her hips were moving with the invasion. She could hear her pussy sopping wet. It was going to make her squirt. A fucking vine was going to make her squirt. She finally reached her climax and the power of it pushed the plant from her pussy and a small flood exploded from her. Once she stopped shaking and convulsing, the trees retreated from their assault and she fell to her side. Exhausted she drifted off into sleep.


Annie slept for hours. When she awoke the sun was coming up over the island. She was sore and dirty. Her skin was red and welted. It looked like rope burns all over her body. She decided to make her third wish count. She walked to the spot where she was dropped off and looked out into the sea and said: “My third wish is to be done. I am done with this I want to go home.” As soon as the word home escaped her lips, the small speed boat could be seen making its way to her. The same small man handed her her clothes, neatly folded.  After she dressed and boarded the small craft she sat with her eyes to the floor. She looked at the man and asked, “How did you know to come so early.” He looked over to her and said “No one ever makes it to the third wish. Master’s island breaks everyone.”




*Both of the Cammies sisters were oddly stumped on this prompt, but not participating in this meme left them unsatisfied. Luckily a friend had a solution and the negotiations of the story were left in her able hands.


A Darker Flame Badge - S

Jun 132014

It was a stroke of luck that the band was hiring local security in a military town. To support the troops, they promoted. Burt wondered how far they would go to support the troops. Would they meet the people they hired? Support with kisses? Sex?

Some people had a thing for military. Tag chasers. Easy pickings.

He really hoped the band members had a thing. He fit the bill easily: large, broad shoulder, a killer stomach, square jaw, a buff upper arm marred by a bullet grazing his skin. Yep, he even had a scar to prove how manly he was, could pour on the tale of how close he came to death and survived, how he would do it again because that was his job and duty. And being just above  the elbow, if he wore the right shirts, the scar was prominent on his tan skin. He always wore the right shirts in looking to get laid.

If he were keeping notches on his bedpost of partners, it would be one scarred looking bed. But he had never slept with anyone famous. Now was his shot.

The band members didn’t meet them. The inner security did, however, and being a people person, Burt easily made friends with them, invited a few to have some beer. And the next night of the concert, when it was over, made his way towards where he knew the members headed, joked with the security as he passed them.

Confidence was everything – he acted like he knew where he was going and that he had every right to be there. He also went for the hottest member’s trailer. That required a bit more finesse, more slipping in the shadows and waiting for a far too serious security guard to pass.

He knocked softly when the coast was clear, hoped she was alone. Or one of her mates could be with her, kinky and wanting a threesome. He could accommodate that as well.

She answered, eyes widened in surprise at the stranger. A towel draped across her neck, her dramatic make up smeared as she wiped with a corner some sweat trickling down.

“Anything wrong?” she inquired.

Burt realized he was speechless. Rookie move, and one he normally didn’t have an issue with.

“No, at least I don’t think so. Thought I saw someone sneaking around here,” he climbed the few step, shut the door behind him, and in her surprise she stepped back and let him. He pretended to peep through the blinds across from him, moved further into the spacious trailer. He saw the cluttered bathroom and the jackpot of all: the gigantic bed in the back. “Are you okay? Are you expecting someone?”

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she stated and walked past him.

“I’m sorry for that ma’am, might be overreacting, but I take my job seriously and am protective by nature.” He moved closer to the bathroom, which she had left open as she scrubbed at the makeup on her face, and peered through another set of blinds. “Do you mind if I take a quick look around?”

“Have at,” she seemed unconcerned, didn’t even turn to him in response, and just continued washing up. She yanked through her long black tangled hair and pulled it up in a ponytail.

“It was a great concert,” he complimented as he moved past her and into the bedroom. “I’m a huge fan and you guys sure didn’t disappoint.”

“Thanks,” she said, and walked into the bedroom. She pulled off her shirt and began wiping the moisture off of her upper body, seemingly ignoring him completely.

Burt couldn’t notice she had great tits and felt himself harden. He moved towards a different corner but kept her view in his peripheral vision. “Sure was nice of you gals to hire military. We could use all the support and morale offered.”

She looked up at him and smiled for the first time. “Of course, we appreciate what you guys sacrifice. And the positive publicity is always a bonus.”

She had a six pack too, something that was unusual in these parts, and when she unbuttoned her tight pants, he looked away nervously. Nervous? Oh yes, he was certainly that.

“You’re cute,” she stated behind him someplace, and he heard the pants sliding off. “Seems like you’ve sacrificed a bit, if your arm  is any indication.”

Jackpot! Burt tried not to smile. He told her about it simply, humbly, as if reluctant to discuss being shot at. When he turned towards her, she was dressed in short pajama shorts and a tiny tank top. “Don’t you party after the shows?”

She laughed. “Nope, not me. Not any of us that I’m aware of. I get real tired after a show. Just want to unwind.”

“Well,” he looked at her, flashed his most charming smile. “Everything looks alright. Just needed to make sure you were safe. Again, you were awesome out there. And you sure are beautiful right now.” He took a few steps closer to the door, which just also happened to be closer to her.

“Thanks,” a big grin and the bluest of eyes met his gaze. She took a step closer to him too. “You aren’t half bad yourself,” her voice dropped a little, became more seductive. “I appreciate you protecting me.” She arms moved up to his broad shoulders, he felt himself tensing by her boldness and unexpected luck. She kept her gaze on him for a brief moment, and then looked lower. “How should I ever repay you?”

“I can think of a thing or two.”

She giggled. “And what would that be?” He could smell her hair products and skin, felt the heat in her hands going right through his shirt.

“I’d love to kiss you right now,” he slowly moved an arm around her, and when she didn’t resist, pulled her up tightly into his hard body. She looked up and that was all the permission he needed. His lips lowered to hers and her lips parted easily under his assault.

She pulled back after a moment. “I’d love to see you naked on my bed,” she stated and he hurriedly complied. Nothing quite as hot as a woman knowing what she wanted and getting straight to the point, he thought. She grabbed her phone and snapped a few pictures him naked.”For later,” she said as she put the phone down on a dresser. He laid down on the center of the bed and patted next to him. “Oh no,” she stated smiling, shimmying out of the nothing-shorts, baring herself to his view. “Lay down all the way.” He lowered himself  off of his elbows. She crawled up onto him, slowly started at the end of bed where his feet were, straddled-crawled past his knees and he felt his cock jerk when she reached his hips. He wishes she would touch or kiss parts of him on her way up. He thought she would stop there but she continued up until she had lowered her sex directly over his mouth, and pressed it to his lips. “You know what to do, open that mouth and use that tongue.”

Surprised, he complied. His hands gripped her upper thighs when she began writhing too much against his face.

“There you go, you know how to take orders,” she breathed above him, and arched and pushed and rode his face. She tasted of sweat until she came, drenched his face. She immediately moved off and he took a deep breath, not realizing his breath was so shallow in search for air until that moment. “Thanks, that was lovely,” she said and moved off the bed, pulled up her shorts.

Burt felt confused with the shorts.

“You can go now,” she said, turned away from him and walked into the bathroom. He heard shower water running.

He was dismissed, he supposed. Awkwardly, his untouched member throbbing, he got dressed and left. He felt used.

And smiled. Still counted!

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 Posted by at 12:13 pm
Apr 162014

It didn’t smell any different than she had remembered. Of course, the fear probably tainted the taste of freedom in the air. After 20 years she was mere minutes away from being done with this farce. These were dangerous times. The slightest slip on her end and the world could come crashing down around her head. She’d hate to see how these men would react.

Such prideful beasts, men. For most of her life Lily had wondered what on earth they were useful for besides carrying heavy things, drinking all the moonshine, and harassing all the well dressed ladies on the boardwalk. Lord knows things had been running fine on their small ranch, with or without one of the smelly brutes around.

Those were different days, and a different era. The streets may now have pavement, but they sure still carried a lot of stupid men.

“Now Lon, you don’t get into any trouble. Just wait right here, Deputy Mazer has one more form he needs your mark on”

Just released from prison after 20 years and they’re still trying to tell her to be a good boy.


When Lily Price (or “Lon” as it were) had been locked up, a devil of a story had been concocted to keep her alive. That story involved passing her off as a young boy to save her from the noose. 20 years of being thankful for an almost nonexistent bosom later and here “she” was, finally able to be a woman. $5 tucked in her pocket and a head full of rambling ideas rattling around her head were her only baggage on the way into the little town not far from the prison.

It’s a miracle how meandering thoughts about womanhood can suddenly bring forth disgust at the nearly 20 years of accumulated, concealing dirt. Lily decided the first thing she needed was clean, and she needed it in a hurry. Spotting a sign that said bathhouse, painted with a bright, scantily clad women on it, Lily hurried inside. The scent of sweet perfume hung heavy in the steamy air as she stepped in from the sunny street, and Lily felt herself wilt. A woman in gauzy clothes was suddenly before her, a vision of beautiful eyes disguised behind cheap paint. What caught Lily’s attention though, was the intelligence. Still dressed in the male rags she was released in, Lily was taken aback when the mysterious eyes dipped in closer and the cool sweet tones of this woman softly sighed “What a story you must have my lady, come with me and we will restore you to your delightful beauty.”

Lily wasn’t sure if this was campy talk, reserved for customer, or if she were special. All she knew was that someone in the world knew she was a woman, and she wasn’t thrown right back in jail yet. Lily was led into a large empty bath room. Steam made clouds in the streamers of sunlight falling from the high open ceiling. Soft smooth hands, the softest Lily had ever felt, slid her clothes to the floor, even the binding which was never removed from her breasts all those long years in prison. Gooseflesh rose upon her skin with each feathery touch. Her body melting with each moment spent in that heavenly room. The water stung as it touched the marks where her bindings had been, but those stings were soothed away with gentle fingers as the attendant massaged her breasts from behind the tub. The beautiful woman was humming gently and Lily let he mind float with the soap bubble on the water.

During these musings Lily couldn’t keep thoughts of those times in prison away. The strangest, most commonplace of these continued to appear without her volition. There was an inmate Sam, so strong, and handsome, even his manners were appealing. With the woman caressing her slick skin Lily got lost in thoughts of Sam, sweat glistening on his brow, water slowly cascading down the hard length of him in the shower when she chanced upon him. Never before had she let thoughts such as these take over, but take over they did.

Suddenly her fingertips, grazing her temple were held in the soft slick grip of the woman. As they made eye contact, the woman guided Lily’s fingertips below the line of water lapsing at her navel, and down to the very heat of her. “Now tell me of this man… but not with your words, I want to see.”

Lily’s eyes went wide at this bequest, but the deep mystery of the beautiful woman before her and the sensations coursing through her fingertips and electrifying the rest of her body had Lily behaving. She bit her lip as her long, thin fingers made smooth circles under the water. Her body temperature rose as thoughts of Sam and the feelings she was evoking rose up and took over her. She bit her lip and tossed her head back to be cradled by the woman who then cupped her cheeks and kissed her lips and joined her on this release of 20 years of who knows what, to find HER. Just hours after leaving prison as a man, with her climax, Lily discovered the infinite delights of being a woman.

 Posted by at 2:01 pm
Mar 022014

The name of the town was Cool.

So he was…on the outside.


Played it cool like the shadows keeping men who weren’t brought up to the sun so the physical price that they paid

was never brought to light.


His wasn’t as obvious.

Inside of him there were equally dark recesses people could never see, understand, denied.


He was crashing, drowning, crawling towards the sight of land, taking great gasping breaths of air and sweat and water in his heavy chest, towards the door which when he opened he kissed the sand of her lips and finally felt like he came home.


She always chased the demons with her voice, held him close for comforting protection. He would eventually smell redemption and the scent of earth  in her genitals, forgot himself in her kisses, felt lost and found and regain ground in her body. He slid his shaft into her form, the knife feeling the initial resistance at first before sliding effortlessly in. Saw her eyes widen and pushed deeper, the body clung to him or resisted him, he could tell no difference and persisted. Felt the body shudder, her eyes rolled back, the body arched, and impaled as much as he could. Heard her scream, felt fluid coat his shaft and himself, felt powerful and alive as the body tensed, stiffened, and dropped away relaxed. His victory spilled out as the orgasm left earth.


When he withdrew there was already a puddle forming.

He grabbed the blanket, wrapped it tenderly around her, and took cover.


*”They’d been pushed out here to get the sun, but not right outside, and not at the front of the hospital where their mutilations might have been seen by passers-by…Fear of of her looking at the empty trouser legs. Fear of her not looking at them…If the country demanded that price, then it should bloody well be prepared to look at the result.” (160) Regeneration by Pat Barker


**“the warrior hero acquired a shadow self; the broken mental patient in a military hospital, or the silent and haunted veteran, would always be waiting in the wings.” –Masculinity, Shell Shock, and Emotional Survival in the First World War.

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 Posted by at 1:11 pm
Jan 152014

A Medieval knight finds a cell phone. Startled, Gregory slips it into his pocket, and glances around to see if anyone else noticed. No one else was looking in his direction at him, their horses, his own included, blocked views from each other for the most part.

He couldn’t wait to show Courtney. Trying to keep his excitement to himself, he kept his head down towards the small overgrowth that they were searching. It was a weekly excursion they were sent to do, explore a new territory outside the forest’s boundaries. This one was a fairly new piece of reclamation, concrete was still evident, a remnant of a wall. It wouldn’t be long before the forest overtook this place too, tore down what man had once made, restoring the land to how God intended.

As the sun went down, a signal was given, and the men mounted, the collection basket of forbidden items carted away in the middle of them, guarded secrets, especially from the Old. The Old didn’t need the reminder of the “comforts” that caused such a war.

Courtney was one such Old. In her sixties, but lithe, statuesque, gorgeous.  Gregory touched the cell phone. She would be pleased with his finding. He was lucky to have her, young knights were given women past Child Bearing to love. Courtney was generous, patient,  and an incredible lover. The things she could do with her hands, long graceful fingers, sturdy and assured hands….and her mouth, he shook his head to clear it.

Yes, he was lucky to have her. Most men were not even considered worthy of women, knights were a few of the classes granted that luxury. Even if he did get promoted to the upper class, he didn’t think he would choose a bride of Child Bearing, so great was his affection for Courtney.

She was of the age where she remembered cell phones, perhaps she even sent a sinning photo of herself as a young girl. She would have had to have been a young girl, as the war started when she was still of Child Bearing age, still had the choice to choose pregnancy. He thought she would choose not to be a mother, too many women did in the past, the reasons for the war to begin with, but Courtney seemed to value her independence. He liked that about her, where most men would have shunned her for it. He appreciated how she would push him onto the bed, he who was supposed to be in charge of someone of a weaker sex, how she would rotate her hips expertly as she rode his young body.

Yes, she would have elected to not have a child. She was definitely one that The Medieval Knights protected the younger women from, that they shielded the forbidden items so expertly. And yet, his lovely lass, his Courtney, his woman, loved these surprises, the secrets. She would be at her best tonight, to show her appreciation of his sin, a thing that could get him killed, if ever discovered. And she would pout when he eventually took it away, this reminder of her youth, to be destroyed. But she would forgive him, he was confident that her affections for him ran just as strong.

As he touched the cell phone again and thought of her, he wondered how men ever preferred a “virtual girlfriend” to a real one. He had no idea what a virtual girlfriend would look like, but couldn’t fathom speaking to someone on a screen, or a wall, not feeling a real tongue like Courtney’s sliding down his shaft with a warm mouth cocooning, fingertips caressing…how could any man of the past ignore that to someone or something that wasn’t real?

No, it was better that the war happened, that people went back to the old ways where the Earth could take back and absorb what man had made, that people began populating again and not denying God’s will, that they mated each other to create life. Courtney once described these great “toys” that served her far more pleasure than a man ever could, and with far less of a mess, but pleasure is not supposed to come from anything other than a man and for man’s pleasure to spill his seed deeply into a woman’s being; Gregory thought, a bit prideful, that he was more than up for the task.

Just reflecting on the past, what he knew about it, made him question even keeping the forbidden cell phone for a bit. And yet…Courtney would be so pleased, he loved making her happy, and receiving her overabundance of affection and appreciation.

Nearing the town, seeing the welcoming kin of knights at the gates, Gregory made sure to shove the phone farther into his pocket, resolute in his decision to give his lover this gift of her past – if only briefly.

**********************Stranded in Toronto is hosting a new meme. Click on the picture to find more great tales that interpret the first line differently.

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 Posted by at 1:51 pm