Fire-Crotch I (Revised)

(Synopsis: Fire-Crotch is a personification of desire, an embodiment of my "inner sexual demons", for the lack of a better term. Not to say I'm haunted by my sexual desires, but rather accepting of them and how they fit in with my personality.)



You are my every temptation, my every desire.
My dirty secret, my guilty pleasure.
You lured me in, you wonderful succubus.
You’ve got me wound around your lovely finger.

You first met me with such fascinating seduction.
Kneeling on my mattress.
A short black baby doll adorns your figure.
A hot pink bow dangling between your breasts.
With black stockings and garter belt to match.
Your arms and legs bound behind in rope.
Collar on your neck.
Leash hanging to the side.
Your ball gag lies beside you.
It’s red hue matching your own.
Black hair drapes over your shoulders.
Small white horns jutting out from the sides.
Your mouth holds a wicked grin.
Lips pierced with steel rings.
Jagged fangs shine like polished diamonds.

Long forked tongue lashes out.
Kisses between your cleavage.
You gaze into my eyes.
Playfully struggling against your bonds.
Letting out a hiss of pleasure.
Making your arousal evident to me.
Your tongue sweeps across your chest.
Your wiggling intensifies.
Your hisses and moans grow louder.
Your cheeks turn pink.
Your legs rub together.
Your body trembles.
Your eyes shut tight and…

A fire ignites.
Flames rise from between your thighs.
You heave a heavy sigh.
Eyebrows raised.
Mouth agape.
Tongue hangs loose.
Sweat drips from your body.
You open your eyes.
You wink and nod to me.

I approach you without hesitation.
Crawling onto the sheets.
Position myself behind you.
My arms wrap around your waist.
I rub your stomach.
My chin rests upon your shoulder.
You turn to gaze at me once more.
Our tongues meet.
Yours wraps around mine.
Pulls our lips together.
Our eyes close.

My hands move lower.
The fire still burns.
The warmth is intense.

My hands move lower.
Your crotch flares up.
It’s flame singes my arm hair.

My hands move lower.
My fingers catch fire.
The scent of burned skin fills my nostrils.

My hands move lower.
I clench from the searing pain.
But lust overcomes my senses.
My fingers glide against your pussy.

You bite my tongue in pleasure.
Your sharp fangs puncture my tongue.
My hands clench into fists.
I taste blood.
My eyes open to see you again.
The shine in your eyes convey an apology.
Seeking my forgiveness.
Mine convey both anger and understanding.
While the pain is unwelcome,
I sympathize with you.
You are forgiven.

I resume my hand stroking.
Our lips come together once more.
You start to tremble in my arms.
Our moans become synced.

I gently penetrate you.
You jolt in surprise.

In...then out.
In...then out.

My rhythm intensifies.

In, then out.
In, then out.

You start to leak.
The moist warmth coats my fingers.

In then out.
In then out.
In then out.

You pant uncontrollably.
I feel your pussy constrict.

Then I stop.
Quickly eject myself from you.
I pull away from your lips and tongue.
You glare with frustration.
I give you a smirk.
Lift my hand to your chin.
“Not yet, lusty demon of mine.”
My whisper rings in your ear.
My finger gently rubbing.
I grab the nearby gag.
Give you a wicked grin of my own.
Force the ball in your mouth.
Your frustration reverts back to pleasure.
A grin forms across your face.
Sharp fangs clinching the ball.
I lock the gag behind your head.
Tugging it ever-so tight.
Your head rests on my hand.
I grip the end of your leash.
Pull you closer to me.
“You love being bound up like this, don’t you?”
My words interrogate you.
You nod enthusiastically.
“Mmmpph-mmhhh!”
You moan, giving me another wink.

I pull you even closer.
My mouth hovers over your ear.
I whisper once more,
“It must be frustrating,
Being brought to the point of ecstasy,
Then not being able to finish.
But don’t despair.
I’ll let you cum
...eventually.”
I kiss your cheek.
Your head snuggles against mine.
“I still have much more fun to have with you,
my lovely Fire-Crotch.”