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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Erotica · #1490916
Beginning of an unfinished erotica piece
(WARNING: This material may be inappropriate for younger audiences, some domestic animals, and the religious right. Reader discretion is advised.)
"It is beyond my control."

He said this matter-of-factly, words falling from his lips even as he pinned her to the wall; like such a butterfly in a glassine case. Nailed her to the cement with his thigh and a bicep bearing a savage tattoo, a crown of thorns around his arm.

She stared at him dully, beyond the pain and the fear now, praying he would not kill her but not really caring anymore, as long as it was quick. For a moment more he held her there, then struck her quickly across the face and threw her to the floor, turning on his heel and walking away; three steps, four? he froze in his tracks and turned on her.

"What use are you to me?? He paused, hot coals staring at her from below his greasy widow's peak. "Honestly. Why should I leave you to live? What can you-- " this word was spit, as though merely having it in his mouth was distasteful to him; "possibly do for me?"

He smiled, a cold gesture never reaching further than the corners of his lips. "Oh no, my little one... I could easily dominate you with my eyes and with my chains, I could bind you like some cursed Prometheus and make you submit to my lash, my every desire."

His muggy breath tickled her ear as he whispered into the nape of her neck. "But that is not what I want from you... not yet. There shall be time for such pleasures later... for now, I want you to submit to me not because you must obey me, but because you could dream of nothing else..." He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and spun her around to face him, the slight clove-scent of him making her vaguely dizzy. "Because you could want nothing else..." He stared into her eyes for a moment, seeming almost to have forgotten who she was, then a haze lifted from his eyes and he untied her robe.

The robe dropped to the floor, its folds of jet satin a pool of sudden tar at her feet. She lay down before him, luxuriously, stretching each languid muscle in slow succession, watching his growing desire with amusement and lust. When she was, at last, prone at his feet, she ran her tongue slowly up his thigh, teasing the delicate hairs, tasting his excitement. Helpless to resist, he dropped to his knees before her, his whimper for mercy drowned out in his sigh of submission.

She looked up at him, watching the strain is his visage as he attempted to control himself, watching every muscle and vein in his body outline itself in Michelangean bas relief. Although she could no more defy him than a leopard may conceal its spots, she felt the deep beginning pangs of terror rise to the surface through her desire, and a slight whimper escaped her parted lips. In a flash he was at her side, holding her, calming her, reassuring her of his intent and his devotion. Calmed by his words and his steady hands, she allowed herself to melt ever so slightly into his arms, feeling his warm embrace enfold and protect her from himself.

As he felt the beat of her heart slow beneath his roaming fingers, he slowly slid his hand beneath the satin of her shirt, whispering calming words of love and passion, his touch upon her flesh so light it almost seemed a breeze upon her skin. Under his breath, in tones so low she wondered if the words were only in her mind, he whispered into her ear "I promise not to hurt you... just make you remember." She lay back against his strong body, his slave.

"So flushed by mere words? Perhaps I should restrain." He began to pull away from her, teasing her with the ends of his nails, and the whimper which escaped her lips was not of pain. More dominant now, she took his hand within her own and forced his palm back onto her breasts, inhaling deeply to press them against his warm flesh. He laughed, the low murmur of a brook over stones, and looked directly into her eyes. She looked away, suddenly modest, but he took her chin into her hands and turned her head back to him.

"When have you been able to hide yourself from me, my sweet one?" She blushed deeply, avoiding his eyes, and he laughed heartily.

"How I love this dance we dance." He drew up to his knees, pulling her gently along with him, stepping on the corner of the robe to keep her from drawing it around her bare flesh. Pulling her up to her toes, he turned her around lightly, hands around her waist, until he stood behind her, his hot breath on her neck and his manhood pressing into her back. "I wish only to invite you, and embrace the beauty it would be, my love-- never to dominate you. That has never been my desire. Why repress you?" She leaned back against him, gently, and he allowed the end of his tongue to tease her ear, her neck. She sighed in spite of herself.

His light fingertips danced over her shoulders, and before she came to realization, the straps of her negligee had dropped off of her shoulders, showing the smooth, milky lines of the tops of her breasts, the slightest shadow of nipple visible above the border of Venetian lace. She looked down in spite of herself, as his hands traced light patterns over her flesh... her head nodded backwards towards him, a marionette with cut strings. With a quick and sure movement, he slipped his free arm around her waist, taking all of her weight, her feet barely touching the floor. She begins to stroke his manhood through his pants, shaking slightly at its size, sighing lightly as he runs his hands through her hair. He begins to kiss her neck, her shoulders, down to the crest of her breasts, he licks them and caresses them. He gently squeezes her nipples, his hands still running through her hair.

"Go on," she says, shaking more visibly now, "I am ready, go on. But will it hurt?"

He looks away from her, unable to meet her eyes. "It is quite possible, my love, but I shall do everything in my power to take that pain away. Do you trust me?" He takes her hand in his and places it over her heart.

"I trust you, mon cheri. With all my love and my soul, I trust you." The tears are falling freely now, and he wipes them from her eyes with the back of his hand, smiling compassionately down at her. He lowers his head and gazes at her over the tops of his eyes, then slowly slides himself down until his face is between her thighs. She gasps and clasps her legs together, but he gently forces them back apart, using one hand to lightly stroke her hair back from her face. She lies back with a resigned sigh.

He makes his way between her legs, kissing lightly the inside of her thighs, his tongue darting inward. She teases the end of his manhood with her thumb, swooning with passion and terror, her breath coming in short gasps. She tosses her head back and forth on the bed, in a combination of fear and lust. He begins to kiss her stomach, licking all around her navel. His hands cup her against the blanket. He continues kissing lower...
© Copyright 2008 Alaina Ford (joys_division at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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