Appetizers – a Straight Sex Story


“This is a nice place,” Stef said as she gazed around at the opulent decorations of the restaurant. Styled in early 1900’s art deco, the furnishings, artwork, and decorations were all authentic to that period, but they were blended with modern work as well, taking away the garish nature and making the place look timeless.

“I hope the food is as good as the decorations,” Bruce said in a half whisper and laughed quietly. Stef nudged him and they smiled.

“It will be,” she said with a mischievous glance. “Trust me. I hear the food is the best here.”

Bruce wanted to ask more but the maitre’d arrived to show them to their table. He was a snooty, stuffed shirt type who had much too high a value on himself. They exchanged glances that said what an ass they thought he was and had to stifle snickers. They followed him, but Bruce noticed that Stef walked slowly, like she had been working out hard and stiff and sore. He gave her a questioning look, but she pushed him in front of her and continued on to the table.

They slid into a booth at the back of the restaurant like they had requested and the maitre’d gave them their menus and walked away. They looked at the menu for a second and then Bruce put his menu down.

“Stef? Everything OK? You walked sorta stiff back there.”

She smiled again that mischievous smile and took his hand. “Everything is fine baby.” She gave him a light kiss and turned her attention back to the menu. “What’cha gettin?” she asked.

Bruce thought about pursuing his questioning further but decided against it. A: He didn’t want to annoy her and B: he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to know the truth. He looked back at the menu, “I think I am in the mood for steak.”

“Mmmmm. . .meat,” Stef said with a giggle and licked her lips. Bruce was now certain he was in for some sort of trouble during dinner. Stef had a way of making such fun trouble he loved it. But she always seemed to do it at the oddest times and always in public.

The waiter came and they ordered dinner and wine but Stef told him not to get any appetizers. This was sort of odd as she usually didn’t like to wait all the time for dinner without something to munch on but Bruce didn’t argue. He ordered and then sat back and waited for the wine.

“You know,” Stef started, “maybe we should have gotten an appetizer after all baby. Something to munch on.”

Great, he thought, now she decides. “Let me get the waiter’s attention then,”

Bruce said in an obviously annoyed tone.

“No. . . .no. . . .no. . .never mind.” She picked up her purse. “I think I have some crackers in here anyway”.

“You’re not going to eat crackers in a restaurant baby. If you want something, we’ll get it,” Bruce said scanning the room for the waiter. “Where the fuck did he go?”

“Oh wait. . . .here comes the wine,” Stef said as she saw the wine steward arriving at their table. “Maybe wine will do.” Bruce looked at her and was now certain something was up, but he let it go while the wine steward was there. The bottle was presented and it was very good. He tipped the man and as he walked away Bruce turned back to Stef.

“I can get the. . .” Bruce started and then let the words trail off. Stef was chewing on something and smiling. “What are you eating?” he asked her.


“What do you mean nothing. . . .you’re eating something.”


“What do you mean nope,” he said and started laughing as her grin widened.

“OK. . . .I had a grape,” she said swallowing the last of it.

Bruce looked around the table. “Where did you get a grape?”

Stef smiled and lifted her hand. In her fingers was a single grape. It was wet looking and she held it out to him. “Want one?”

Bruce smiled a questioning smile but leaned over so she could feed it to him. It was wet when she placed it on his tongue and he instantly noticed a different taste to it. Something. . . .something. . .familiar. . . .something. Oh my god, he thought.

Stef burst out laughing at the look on his face as he realized what the taste was. He suddenly blushed deep red and began to look around to see if anyone noticed what was going on. She giggled more. He was so cute when he was embarrassed.

“Want another?” she asked. He nodded and smiled. “Well. . . .you’ll have to get it yourself,” she said and smiled. She turned in the booth, raised one leg up and pulled her dress up until just he could see her bare pussy. She smiled.

Bruce tentatively reached out his hand and slid one finger into her pussy. It was so wet it sucked him in and Stef rolled her eyes slightly and smiled at the pleasure. His finger immediately found another grape, a whole bunch of them actually. He pulled his finger out and then slid two in her and grabbed a grape quickly and pulled it out. As he pulled his fingers out another grape popped out with it and fell to the floor. He looked around, horrified that someone may have seen it. Stef laughed and leaned down and took the grape from his fingers with her mouth, sucking her own juices off his hand as she did.

Bruce felt his cock go stiff and he could barely breath. His excitement was so intense he could barely think as he watched her eat that grape and then fish another out and feed it to him. The taste of her pussy and the grape was fantastic. Like they were meant for each other. She smiled as she watched him eat and began fishing for another.

Her search took longer this time, not for lack of grapes, but because she was playing with her pussy at the same time. He watched as she rubbed her swollen clit and dipped two fingers into her wet pussy. He watched in rapt attention as she pulled out two grapes and stuck them in her mouth and let the juices drip down her chin for a second before sucking them back into her mouth.

She took a sip of wine and then dipped her fingers into the glass and got them wet. She stuck the fingers into his mouth and the taste of wine and her pussy drove him nuts. He sucked on them too hard and made a slurping noise. She quickly withdrew the fingers and laughed as he grew bright red again.

Grape after grape was fished out of her pussy as they shared the snack. Each grab took longer and each grape tasted stronger and stronger of her pussy. Then she was fishing out the last grape, dinner would be here soon she knew, but she took her time getting it. Her palm rubbing over clit and her fingers searching her pussy. She started to shake and bit her lip as she finally came. She felt the orgasm seep through her, a slow strong one. It took nearly a minute to reach intensity and she was nearly drawing blood to keep from crying out. She tried to look Bruce in the eyes but her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably. She moaned every so softly and finally her body gave one great shudder. She opened her eyes and Bruce was grinning ear to ear watching her.

She pulled her fingers and the last grape out and shook slightly at the sensation. Leaning over, she kissed Bruce and then held out the last grape.

“Want the last one baby? I’m done,” she said with a mischievous smile.

Webcam Trouble , A Fetish Sex Story

topbar.jpg - 43460 Bytes

Daddy’s Lil Pixie, that’s what he called her. She was his mischievous little sexy girl. She was, more often then not, either about to get into trouble, getting in trouble, or getting a well deserved and appreciated spanking for being in trouble. That’s the way they both liked it.

She was not always bad. She slept some times and some times there was no trouble to get into. Other times though, she had a habit of finding trouble everywhere. The thing was, she looked so damn cute getting into it, it was hard to stay mad at her, which meant she had to try twice as hard as others to get the same spankings.

She would often find the smallest thing and then expand it, evolve it until he had to notice. Like the webcam . . . it was just too much temptation for her to resist. So when he left her alone to go to work, she just had to find some trouble to get into.

So as his car drove out of sight, she stripped naked and plopped herself down in front of the camera. She just watched her own video feed for a while, seeing what she could get good pictures of. Giggling maniacally the entire time she soon had a collection of shots of her ass and tits and smile and tongue and even her clean shaven pussy amassed on the system. Now, she just needed to figure out what to do with them all.

She waited for a half hour, just about the time he would be getting to work and then she knew exactly what to do. Typing out a quick message to him she attached several pictures to the email and sent them. She grinned thinking of him getting them in his office, worried someone else in IT would see them. The thought made her giggle and her pussy started to get wet. This was fun.

She waited for maybe 15 minutes and then the phone rang. She knew it was him so she didn’t answer it, she waited for the machine to grab it. Seconds later there was the beep and then his voice. “Cute. . .very cute. I just hope no one else gets a hold of these emails baby.”

OK….not mad enough. She’d have to do better obviously. He was mildly annoyed but also turned on. Both were good starts but she wanted him totally pissed and horny as hell for lunch. She grinned and sent another batch to him, this time of her fingers in her pussy and then also of her pulling on her nipple ring. That should get a lil more ummphhh out of him.

She waited and waited and when nothing happened in the first five minutes she began to experiment again. She took the webcam down and tried different angles. Finally as she squatted over it and began to play with herself, she got several very good close up shots. You could see how wet she was, that was what she wanted.

The phone rang but no message, that was good. He was getting a lil pissed. She grinned and sent the new ones to him with an Urgent header on em. Better chance someone else would look at them that way.

She waited and then he called again and she answered it sounding all innocent. “Hello?”

“Ha…hello. . .all innoce… you know what happens if I get caught? do you? What the fuck are you doing? Do not email any more pictures!”

Oooo he was getting good and mad. But not quite there yet. She sat and thought and thought and had to get something totally over the top to get him there. More pictures in email would be….boring….needed something new.

She grinned ear to ear and knew what she had to. She knew the perfect thing. This was the best…she laughed. Oh, he was going to be so pissed off it’s not even funny. She knew just what would drive him insane. She began playing with the web cam until she had the perfect shot. Her fingers in her pussy, pulling on a nipple, her cum dripping down the crack of her ass. Perfect!

Opening another program on the computer she began to put her plan into action. She looked through the stored numbers until she found it, his private office fax number, it came to the machine right next to him. She giggled and found her seat was all wet in excitement.

The program picked up the modem line and dialed, then his phone answered. The computers talked and finally, the picture was being sent. She was laughing and playing with herself, she could almost feel the sting of his belt on her ass already. She earned it dammit!

The picture wasn’t even all the way sent when the phone rang, she turned off the ringer. She knew it was him but, it was too late to stop. She bit her lip and waited, sure enough her cell phone rang. She laughed. Oh yes, that was the trick, he was good and pissed now.

The computers clicked and disconnected, the deed was done. She giggled and came and laughed. This was too much fun! She licked her fingers clean and that turned her on more so she started playing with herself all over again. Oh she was gonna be sloppy wet when he came home for sure.

She turned the ringer back on and picked up the hand set. Before he could call again she dialed his office number. He picked up the line and said hello just in time to hear her cum hard and then hang up again. She giggled. Waited. The phone rang again.

“Hello?” All innocent and shy.

“Don’t. . . .Don’t even play innocent. Don’t even try that.” She giggled. “Ohhhh yes…it’s hilarious. Have the belt out when I get home, she how funny it is then.”

She giggled and he continued. “No more pictures, faxes, calls, just get away from the computer. I am taking an early lunch. Just stay fuckin still till I get there.”

She hung up and sat on the couch waiting, naked, belt in hand. She earned this dammit. She watched the minutes tick off the clock. He would be home soon. She could almost hear him cussing under his breath the whole way home. She grinned. She was sooooo good at this.

He came through the door pissed, hard, and with that evil look in his eyes. She nearly came at the sight. He was smiling, that was a good thing, he was in that mood. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her waiting for him. “Aren’t you cute?”

She nodded.

He laughed and bit his lip. “You have no idea how close you came to getting me. .. . .do you understand . . . do you know. . .” He kept cutting himself off. Then he stopped as he looked at her. “Is that all cum?” He asked pointing to the huge wet spot under her.

She nodded and grinned.

“Holy shit. That’s all cum?”

She nodded and spread her legs and showed him her cum covered fingers. “Uh huh. See?”

He laughed and shook his head. He was ready to kill her and ready to fuck her. Oh, she did these things to drive him completely nuts she. . . she . . . she. . . .she. . .

“Gimme that damn belt and bend over now.” He held out his hand.

She grinned and handed him the belt with a little squeal of glee. Oh yes, she had earned this. She bent over and presented her bare ass to him, cum half way down her thighs. She was so ready for this, so ready for the first hit. She quivered in anticipation. “Come on Daddy! Show me I was a bad girl!”

The first strike was hard and painful, the leather stinging across both cheeks at once and making her cry out. He didn’t wait for her to recover fully, the spanks came hard and fast on her bare skin, great angry floods of sting that made her feel like her ass was on fire. She cried out and enjoyed the heat as it rampaged through her body. He was so good with a belt, fast and hard and brutal with her. She earned it, her mind screamed, she earned that pain!

He stopped for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow, he waited for her to stop her knees from wobbling and present her ass full again. Her cum was down to her knees now as she had continued to cum and cum as he struck, every slap on the ass making her drip that much more. When she was steady again he raised the belt back.

“Three emails. Count them out.” He said and she nodded. She knew better then to sass now.

The first strike hit, this was harder to take then the spanking. The huts were harder and not in a blur of hits. She had to feel each one individually and count it out for him. “One Sir!” She cried out.

The second one stung so God damn bad. She felt her knees wobble but she stayed up and cried out in a wavering voice, “Two sir!”

The third was soft. She was worried, he never ended soft. She was expecting him to really wail on her but it came soft. It still hurt like hell on her already red and marked ass but, not as bad as it could have. “Three sir?” She called out.

He leaned in close to her, his breath raged and excited. “One fax sent to my office. Count it out.” Oh shit, she thought. Here it comes.

She was expecting the long thin sting of the belt across her ass so when his bare hand hit her with a perfect spank and the whole big hand covered one ass cheek, she screamed out in pain. Her whole ass was on fire from the sting but still, she was a good girl when ordered and called it out. “F…….f…f.f.f…four sir!”

His voice was at her ear again, his breath tickling her skin as he whispered in a low and deadly tone. “One phone call, count it out.”

She braced herself but the spank was too much as his hand covered her other ass cheek and set that one fire as well. She cried out and managed to get “Fiiiiiiiiiiive.” out before she collapsed to her knees. Tears flowed down her cheeks and she sobbed. It was not in pain she sobbed but in purification. She took her punishment and now she was a good girl again, he had redeemed her.

He was kneeling next to her, holding her, comforting her, telling her how good she was for counting them all out. How proud he was of her, how sexy she was. Stroking her hair, kissing her, making it all OK again. He had that power, to make everything OK with a kiss and a touch.

She cuddled into him and was surprised to find his chest bare. She cuddled into his lap, she found he was naked, his hard cock standing straight up. He chuckled at her slight shock. “Oh. . .you think those pictures didn’t have an effect on me?” He laughed and she grinned up at him.

Pulling her up to her hands and knees he bent her over and positioned himself behind her and slowly slid his long hard cock into her. Sex was gentle because of her spanking, her ass couldn’t have taken a hard slam fuck. Instead she felt every inch of him sliding in and out of her slowly, painfully slow.

She moaned and felt herself leaving her own body as she got close to cumming. The orgasm ripped through her and tore her apart like tissue paper and she was loose and free. His cock continued to slide in and out of her and she felt the fire of orgasm after orgasm ripping through her.

Finally his cock buried deep in her erupted, his cum filled her pussy. She could feel him coursing through her, dripping out of her, so hot…so sweet. . . so much cum in her. He slid in and out as he kept cumming and his cum squished and dripped with hers down her legs, covered her in their sex.

He kissed and held her for a long time, then she began to drift. Nibbling on her neck, she covered her with a fleece throw and let her drift off to sleep. She grinned and purred as he stroked her hair and kissed her face until he had to go back to work. She was so content feeling her ass burn and his cum dripping out of her, she was his.

He got back to his office about 15 minutes late but, it seemed no one noticed. He sat down and hurriedly tried to get back into his work so his tardiness would remain a secret. Clicking on his desktop he opened a waiting email from an unknown name. The email clicked open and he was greeted immediately by an image of her pussy, welts and the start of bruises across her ass cheeks. He laughed and began keeping track, he had a feeling it was going to be a long afternoon.

bottombar.jpg - 44863 Bytes

The Pit , a Fetish Sex Story

topbar.jpg - 43460 Bytes

She walked down the back alleyway, trying to be small and unnoticed. She wasn’t sure why she was doing this or even if there was something other then walking down a trashy alley that she was doing. This place was legend. A friend of a friend knew a guy. . .that sorta direction, but she had to try and find it.

She had sketchy details at best about where it was and what it took to get in. She figured she would bluff her way in like she used to getting in bars before she was of legal age. She had the looks, the style, most doormen would not deny her. Then again…she had a feeling nothing about this place would be ordinary.

The lights over several doorways cast a dim glow to the alley, making it full of shadows and danger. She almost turned back but knew she couldn’t. Tonight . . . tomorrow . . . next month. . .she would come eventually. There was no denying the draw she felt.

She came to an intersection with another alley and peered to the left. It was dark and foreboding. She looked to the right and it lead back towards the street. She had to go in deeper. She took another long slow breath and started walking down the left alley. The sound of a rat scurrying away and squealing almost sent her running but she controlled herself and forced her feet to take one step at a time. She would get there by sheer force of will if nothing else.

She heard a splash of sound, raunchy music with a deep dark beat. Then it was gone. She knew it was from a door opening ahead in the dark and then closing. Her heart was going a mile a minute, she almost ran again but couldn’t. She trembled as she approached a dim neon sign that almost seemed swallowed by the surrounding dark. It read, very simply, The Pit.

She walked up to the door and grabbed the handle and turned, it was locked. That was almost enough excuse for her to turn back, her fear was at such a panic level but she stayed and raised her hand and knocked. That sound seemed so loud in the quiet of the deep of night. Like thunder that rolled and rebounded off the brick walls of the alley back to her. She waited and was about to knock when someone behind her cleared his throat.

She spun around and had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. He was just there, out of nowhere, just there. Neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin, he was almost nondescript. Like you’d never notice him. Except for his eyes. Deep burning blue eyes that seemed to shine all the more for the blandness of the rest of him.

“Looking for something miss?” He said in a gravely voice.

“I wanted to go in.” She replied with a shaky voice.

“Mmmm no miss . . . you don’t wanna go in there. That’s not the sorta place for ladies like you.” He said and smiled, flashing white teeth.

“It’s exactly the place for me.” She said, starting to calm down and get indignant with the man.

“You think?” He asked and smiled again, enjoying toying with her.

“Yes, I think so.” She responded.

“Then miss, this isn’t the place for you. This is a place for people who know, not think.” He stepped back like she would just leave now.

“All right, I’ll play your game. OK, I know this is the place for me.” She flipped her hair back, casually but purposefully making sure he got a good sight of her body. Big full breasts, The swing of her hips, long sweet legs, and all stuffed into a barely the-right-size black dress and matching heels. I know….OK.. . .now. . .can I go in?”

He smiled wider and stepped back forward to her and without breaking eye contact undid his fly and pulled his cock out. It was a good sized cock and was quickly rock hard. She tried not to be shocked, tried not to show it at least. She tried to maintain her calm cool composure.

“And that is for?” She asked.

“Admission miss.” His smile seemed to take on a much more malevolent aspect. “Nothing is free here miss, everything costs.”

She was stunned. For the first time that night she really was thinking this was a total mistake. This was insanity. Then, as if on cue, she heard a distant pounding of the beat from the music inside. It seemed to call her, she knew she had to go.

As though he saw her thoughts in her eyes he whispered to her, “Good girl.” His hands on her shoulders he guided her to sit on the steps to the door. His cock in her face, she looked up at him and he grinned and nodded.

Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth and felt his cock slide in. It was big, but not too big for her to handle. She began to suck it as he slid it in and out and grabbed her hair gently. She was surprised when she began to want to suck it good. The idea of the anonymous cock sucking in a back alley grew on her. She looked up at him and watched him watching her.

She set her purse down and took hold of his cock shaft and began to pump it as she sucked. She felt her pussy getting dripping wet as she sucked him deep down and then licked at his balls. He moaned and smiled at her and closed his eyes.

Grabbing his balls with her free hand she pumped him hard and fast with her other. Her lips rubbing the entire length as she sucked him with nice wet sloppy sounds. She heard the music clearer, the beat timing with her cock sucking perfectly.

God she wanted his cum so bad now. Wanted it on her face, in her mouth, all over her. She moaned as she pumped him, letting his balls go, she slid her hand up her own dress and began to play with her clit through her panties. The beat of the music pounded through her, seemed to electrify her from the soul out. She sucked him faster and faster, hand trying to milk him, squeezing and sliding and begging with a touch for his load.

He grabbed her hair and jammed his cock into her mouth. She thought he was about to cum but he wasn’t ready quite yet. Grabbing her hair with both hands he started fucking her face, his cock sliding in and out faster and faster.

“Suck it you lil slut if you want to go in. Pay me . . . pay me. . .” She moaned and came. The idea of being this slutty, this degraded, this out of control, her pussy exploded and she groaned around his cock.

Laughing he pulled his cock out and began stroking it in her face, her saliva making it slippery. She looked up at him and he smiled and let loose. His cum splattered on her cheek, she opened her mouth and got a shot across her lips, she licked it up greedily. Cum splashed on her neck and tits and then he shoved it back into her mouth and she sucked the last of it from him, milking him dry.

He stepped back and put his cock away and zipped up again. She just sat there looking at him, feeling the cum dripping all over her. He smiled and blew her a kiss and turned to walk away.

“Hey. . .the door . . . aren’t you letting me in?” She asked, ready to chase him down and kill him as he walked away.

He laughed. “Baby. . .you already unlocked it. It was you that wouldn’t let you open it.” He turned back to her. “And now you know. So this is a place for a lady like you miss. Enjoy your night.”

With that he walked back into the darkness, leaving her there. Her first response was to think she needed to clean up but, then she decided against it. Standing, dripping with his cum and hers, she stepped back up to the door and opened it easily. The music swept out and the cum slut walked inside.

It wasn’t much brighter inside then out. A haze and smell of old sex seemed to hang over the foyer. She stepped further in her eyes adjusted and she could see all the wonderful things around her. In a booth to her right a man was being sucked by two girls, they took turns taking his cock into their mouths. The booth next to him was a man and a transsexual kissing and playing with each other. A girl was over a table getting hammer fucked by a large construction type guy still wearing his hard hat.

Everywhere she looked was sex of every type and description imaginable. Some made her excited, others repulsed her but in the end, it didn’t matter, that was their business. Her business here was quiet different.

She stepped up the bar and had to go around a balding fat man beating a young nubile woman’s ass with a brush as she dangled over his knee. He was sweating and grinning and screaming obscenities at her as he did. She gave him a wide berth and came to the bar away from him, trying to ignore his screaming. the bartender stepped over to her and smiled.

He was a handsome piece of man meat, maybe six-three, long blonde hair, surfer tan, pearly smile and a hard body that was completely nude. His thick long cock bobbed in front of him as he walked over to her.

“What can I get you? What is your wildest pleasure?” He said and smiled again.

She was momentarily tempted but then remembered darker pleasures. “The Pit,” she replied.

He looked her up and down and nodded. “Like to watch?”


He looked a little surprised.

“I want to be in it.”

He took a deep breath. “Are you sure miss?”

“Oh Jesus Christ. . .do I have to blow you too to prove it?”

He laughed and shook his head and looked her up and down again. “No miss. Just take the stairs right behind you and enjoy your night miss.” He turned and walked back to the fat man and handed him a new brush, the other was broken and the girls ass was so red it looked like an apple.

She turned and saw that there was indeed a stairway behind her now, right where the front door had been before. She smiled and nodded. It was true what they said, it was all true. She stepped to the stairs and started down, casting one more glance at the fat man and the girl, the girl was crying and laughing and loving it all, winking at her between spanks and screams. She laughed, she wondered who was the visitor here, him or her. She turned back to the stairs and started down into the dark.

Each step seemed a little harder as she descended. Her heels made a staccato click on each, the stone stairs seeming to reject even the touch of her shoes. She felt as though if she should touch them, they would throw her back as unworthy. Each step brought that thought out clearer and clearer. They didn’t want her here, she didn’t belong here, she was just making a big mistake.

Step by step a panic grew in her. She needed to run, to get away. Each step was such a tragic mistake, she needed to go. Gritting her teeth she took another and another, tears spilled down her cheeks, fear made her heart beat wildly. Another and another and she felt like the walls closed in on her. She was not going to make it.

She paused and took a deep breath and tried to stop her trembling, tried to steady herself. She took another step and paused again. She listened. At first she was listening to see if anyone else was ahead of her but then, the music washed back over her. She was surprised, like it had receded away like the tide and only now came back. The beat, it moved her feet. The music comforted her. She took a deep breath and another step. It was OK, she was going to make it.

She came to a landing, about 12 foot long and then the steps continued beyond it. Sitting there was a topless girl. her shirt still hung in shreds from her shoulders but her perky breasts were totally exposed. Bits and pieces of the silk shirt were strewn about her and she was weeping.

Looking up at her as she walked past the girl asked, “Is it still night?”

She nodded.

“I want to go on. It’s just so hard.” She understood and smiled at the girl.

“I paid the price.” The girl told her.

“Me too,” she replied.

“Really? The two guys out front got to fuck you too?” She paused and looked at her, understanding something for the first time. She shook her head.

“No, was just one guy and I sucked his cock.”

“Oh. I got fucked up the ass.” The girl said. She nodded and started to walk again.

“But I paid the price.” The girl sobbed behind her. She left her there though. Yes, the girl had paid the price to get in but not to go down. She didn’t have time to stay and explain it to her, she’d either learn of not, there was nothing she could do for the girl. . .except maybe one thing. . .

“Listen to the music. . . Listen to your music.” She said and started down again.

“Thank you. . .” the girl called out from behind her as she vanished, swallowed up by the dark.

The light grew very dim and the stairs became treacherous to walk. She had to feel forward each step of the way. She kicked off her shoes, easier to feel in her bare feet. The cold stone that she had been so afraid would reject her felt so comforting now to her toes.

Realizing how good the bare feet felt she laughed and paused. She reached around and undid her dress’ zipper. She slipped it down and off and tosses it aside. She wouldn’t be needing that any more. Pulling her panties down she tossed them behind her and started forward again, completely nude as she walked.

She felt her pussy was still very wet, nice and slippery as she swung her legs. She slid a hand down and slipped a finger into herself as she took another step. She was soaked. She paused and slid two fingers in . . . it felt so fucking good. It was an amazing feeling, she wanted to cum so bad. Finger fucking herself had never ever been this good before.

Her other hand found her nipple and began to pull at it as she finger fucked herself. her cum was already dripping down her legs, she knew this would be a monumental orgasm that was building. She leaned against the cold stone wall and crouched slightly, her fingers fucking straight in hard and fast, the wet sound of her fucking and her ragged breathing echoing and filing the air.

Filling the air?

She realized the music had stopped. She slid her fingers out of her pussy. This wasn’t what she wanted. She stood up, her legs slightly wobbly. As bad as she wanted to cum right now, this was what she wanted. . .wasn’t what she needed. She walked on down the stairs, dripping wet, trembling, but resolved now, she needed.

Her bare feet searched each step until either the lighting had gotten better or her eyes had more fully adjusted. The end result was the same, she could see again. She fought the urge to hurry ahead, to run down the stairs before she lost control of herself again and started masturbating. That want was still tempting her and teasing her so badly. She would not give in though, want was nothing compared to need.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs she entered into a large round room. In this room was three separate . . . piles, for lack of a better word. . .of people. Writhing masses of pure flesh. She looked at them and was amazed. It was just a mass of flesh, fucking and sucking, kissing and touching. They were actually wallowing in a small puddle of sweat and cum, fucking for all the were worth and yet, not seeming to find release in their orgasms. They stayed hungry and wanting and fucking.

Out of curiosity she stepped closer to one and looked. Men and women, sucking and fucking indescriminantly. Cocks in mouths, in pussies, in asses. Cum soaked them all, mixing with their sweat as they grunted and rutted like wild beasts. It was sexy, it was tempting. They were just ravenous for each other.

Despite the great urge to jump in and fuck and be fucked wildly through the night, she stepped back. She watched and found herself sliding her hand along her belly. Stopping that impulse, she stepped back another step. This wasn’t for her either but it was so damn hard to step away from.

Turning away from the pile of bodies, she tried to shut the wet sucking, fucking, cumming, sex noises that they made. She listened to her own music and stepped away and continued on. Each pile she passed called to her. Many mouths tempting her to join them. It was so hard to resist. . .To resist being wanted. She forced them from her mind and walked through the room to the small hallway on the other side.

A man stepped out of the hallway, a gorgeous man. He was well over six foot, black hair, green eyes, hung like a horse, nude and hard as a rock. He smiled and stepped up to greet her. His face was very kind and yet very strong. His eyes seemed to almost glow in the low light as he looked her up and down and nodded his approval.

“Welcome miss. Glad to see you made it OK.” He grinned.

“Wasn’t easy.” She said.

“Nothing good ever is…is it? Easy that is.”

“I suppose not.” She peered into the hallway and there it was. A huge oak door that she knew led to The Pit. “That’s it, isn’t it?”


“Is it locked?”


“Do I need to blow you to unlock it?” She asked in such a casual “How’s the weather” sort of way she shocked herself.

“Not unless you want to.” He answered.

She looked him up and down, his cock, hard as a rock and slightly bent and hanging from it’s own weight. His body was rippled muscle. He was, in all, perfect in every way, the type of man she always wanted. He took hold of his cock and stroked it for her to watch. She smiled and looked him in the eyes.

“Mmmmm that sounds fun. Then we can just keep fucking till others joined in and make our own pile here huh?” She asked him.

He laughed and let go of his cock. “The door is not locked for you miss. You are ready to go in. Enjoy your night miss.” He stepped back and winked at her.

Yes, she was ready.

The door swung in with surprising ease considering it’s size. She was expecting the door to weigh a ton and be almost impossible to move but, it wasn’t. I swung in with a light touch and she peered in. The chamber inside was large, maybe 50 foot in diameter. The walls were smooth as was the floor. The ceiling was lost in the shadows above the ground.

She stepped in and the door swung shut behind her. Now it’s immense size was heard in the thunderous boom it made slamming shut. The noise made her jump and look only too find there was not a door there. The walls were seamless, she had walked into a circle without end.

The room was empty except for a large stone table that looked like it had been stolen from some ancient alter. The heavy slab on top seemed to almost glisten with moisture. She didn’t want to think of what kind of moisture. She stepped forward and looked up. She could see in the shadows figures peering through windows. Faceless, anonymous people watching.

She could make out no real details of the watchers. They were shadows and beyond her sight. That was the way they wanted it. They just wanted to watch. She could see movement and as she stared made out the fact that some were fucking. . .some were getting blow jobs. . .some were jacking off. The actions seemed far easier to see then the people doing them. She smiled, this place was very interesting.

She walked up to the alter and paused halfway there, the floor was odd. Polished stone is usually cold but, this floor felt warm to her bare feet. Almost alive in ways. Like it reacted to her passing. She felt almost excitement from it, almost swore she felt a quiver as she neared the table.

She walked up to the stone alter and saw it too was empty save for one thing. There was a blindfold laying on it for her. A long strip of jet black material laid out for her to use. She took it in her hands and felt it, so silky and yet not the cold of unused silk, more like the heat that silk bleeds from a body. She brushed her hair back and put it on, tying it tight around her eyes.

Blind and nude, she felt the table in front of her and climbed onto it. It too was not cold as she expected. And, despite being stone, it seemed to have a a welcoming softness to it. Her mind was in all likelihood working over time in her over excited state. Nerves can often enhance percep. . .

The first hands grabbed her and pulled her onto her back. She screamed in shock but as her mouth opened a cock was shoved into it. She tried to pull back but the table gave her no egress and she was forced to start sucking it. It was big and thick and the man made no attempt to be gentle. He shoved his cock into her mouth and grabbed her hair and started to face fuck her.

Three fingers rubbed against her pussy and then slid in. They were so big she wanted to scream but could only moan as they violated her. Without ceremony nor introduction, she was being used by at least two men. She felt her cum begin to spill out at the though, now she knew why the alter glistened.

Mouths were next. All over her, kissing, biting, tasting her. She thrashed about in pleasure/pain of the attentions, her nipples sucked and bit hard, she was still unable to cry out because of the cock in her mouth. Hands all over her, feeling her, scratching, pinching, rubbing. A tongue slid into her ass and she couldn’t hold back, she came hard, her juices dripping out and down the crack of her ass.

She was so into her own orgasm she didn’t even notice the cock twitching in her mouth until the cum began to spill into her mouth. Great gobs of hot salty cum filled her mouth and dripped down her cheeks. She sucked and swallowed all she could and then the cock pulled out and shot the last of it on her face.

She didn’t have time to respond before another cock was pressed against her lips and her hands were guided to two more cocks to stroke them. The fingers pulled out of her pussy and a cock replaced that as well. Someone straddled her and pushed her tits together and began to titty fuck her as well. So many cocks using her, she was losing her reality anchor, everything was blurring together.

She was fucked savagely. The cock was huge and hurt so good as it hammer fucked her fast and hard. The cock in her mouth was just the right size too deep throat and he deep fucked her face until he shot a load down her throat in a short time. There was no foreplay, there was just getting off on her. The cocks in her hand fired off together, showering her with cum, making her slippery and gooey.

The man titty fucking her soaked her face with a big load and then jumped off her. She thought it was over and she was very disappointed but, then hands grabbed her again and she was lifted. The cock in her cunt slipped out and she was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor face down.

Before she could get up, hands lifted her to her hands and knees and a cock slid in from under her. The same huge cock was fucking her again, fucking up into her pussy so she dripped on him. Then a cock pressed against her asshole and pushed in. She cried out in pain as the big head opened her and was rewarded with another cock in her mouth.

Things were spinning. She couldn’t really tell up from down any more. Cocks were fucking every hole, jacking off and rubbing their cum all over her. She felt a pussy rubbed on the back of her neck and then the wetness of an orgasm spilling onto her. Hands and mouths teased and grabbed and bit and pinched and slapped her body all over.

The sensory over load made her head swim. She was cumming non stop it seemed. She felt so fluid . . . like she was slowly becoming nothing but liquid. Still more cocks came and fucked and made her suck. She was so full of cum they squished it out of her as they entered. She was moaning and unable to breathe and that didn’t even bother her any more.

She was fluid. She felt herself burn up and she was nothing but her own sex. She felt herself dripping out of some alien pussy that used to be hers. She was running down the legs, running down some nameless, faceless cocks. She dripped out onto the floor. She was sex and nothing else.

They fucked the body long after she left it. She felt their cum splattering and mixing with her as she slowly was absorbed by the floor. The nameless faceless gang of sex used the body up until it too liquefied and flowed with her. There was nothing left of her but a wet spot on the floor . . . she was consumed by the room . . . by The Pit. She wanted to sing. . .wanted to scream . . . instead. . .she got what she needed.. . she simply became part of The Pit. She was the darkness now that she sought.

The crowd murmured approval. The door returned. Someone else would come soon enough. The daylight peeked over the horizon outside. It fell on a blank wall that had been the front door the night before. The Pit was gone once again. Darkness lost to the harsh light of day. It would be back somewhere tonight. People would seek it. Some would find it and some would never leave.

A nondescript man walked over and took the purse left laying so callously on the front steps and that now lay on the bare ground, the steps having vanished as well. He tossed it into the dumpster, she wouldn’t be back for it. She didn’t need that any more.

bottombar.jpg - 44863 Bytes

The Perfect Crime, a Dark Fetish Sex Story

topbar.jpg - 43460 Bytes

It was a lonely place, devoid of life except that which preyed upon the dead or dying. Spiders hid in corners and waited for passing hopes to be caught in their webs to be devoured at leisure. The door to the crypt was rusted shut so that even those wishing to come here had to prove their worth in unlocking the ancient mechanisms. A newer lock secured the door yet further with a tempered steal deadbolt that denied even the most dedicated of trespassers. In all, the place was barren . . . that was why he came here.

This place was so devoid of humanity, he brought her here to be inhuman, to explore and revel in inhuman pleasures. They were not coy young lovers that sought a secret place to explore. They both knew what they were doing it and why and this place, this barren, bereft place was the place they needed. The marble was cold and dusty. The air was stale and smelled of ages of nothing. Here, in this place, they could be as they wished to be; alive among the dead.

She waited as he looked through the heavy key ring of ancient skeleton keys that had tarnished with age until they were all but black. He tried one after another until finally, he felt one click in place. Smiling, he nodded to her and took out a can of lubricant that promised to instantly free ages of rust and began to spray it in the lock until the tumblers were so full it drizzled down the front. He stepped back and waited now. The chemicals inside performing their magic unseen so that the tumblers would be free to spin again.

He stepped back and looked at her. She was beautiful. Stark as their surroundings, her eyes were set in heavy black makeup, her skin like polished stone. The black lace of her long coat set off her pale complexion so that she looked almost like she too was part of the forgotten stonework here. Her hair was chestnut brown and streaked with black and red so that in all, her appearance was so striking, she was like a living painting as she moved. She took a drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke out at him. She was excited and scared. It was one thing to dream of things, quite another to do them.

He smiled at her and drank in her beauty as he waited. Her face was a little flushed and he knew that she was thinking about what they were to do as well. He could barely keep his hands off her as they stood in the dimming twilight awaiting the miracle of modern mechanics to open their passage. He reached into his pocket and took out the other key ring and began to search out the key to the deadbolt. He had paid dearly for these keys. This night was to be special . . . their consecration of their own sick debauchery . . . they would go places tonight most never dared. Shifting the backpack that carried their supplies, he found the deadbolt key and turned back once more to the door giving her a quick wink as he did.

The deadbolt was fairly new so that it did not protest so loudly when cranked and released. He felt his heart racing as he placed the skeleton key into the lock and turned. The sound of grating bones and old age creaked and moaned as he fought with the lock. Finally he felt it give and start to turn. The creaked rose to a squeal as it finally gave in and shifted and clanked open. The sound seemed to resonate in the air as the door acquiesced and unlocked for them. Their own private paradise awaited them inside. He pushed on the heavy iron grate door and it protested and then scuffled inward. The smell of old air swirled around them as the crypt welcomed them in. He took out a candle and lit it and then handed her one to light from his. Slowly, together they slipped into the darkness inside the crypt.

The main stone door swung without a bit of effort, having been made at a time where craftsmanship was better then today. Even after all this time, it was perfectly balanced to the fingertips of those who had gotten that far. The room beyond gave a hushed whisper of welcome and blew dank air at them that smelled of old dead things. Grinning and grabbing each others hand they entered the darkness. The candles cast an irregular light on the walls inside. Shadows danced and gyrated as the flames teased them with light. As they peered about, they saw the perfect spot, long, high marble sarcophagi that seemed to be made for their purposes. She grinned and squeezed his hand and then dashed to it.

The dust was ages old on it and caked to the touch. He pulled out a towel and followed her, grabbing out also a bottle of water to spill upon the stone. Seconds later he began to peel back the layers of dust and smear them and wipe them away. The gray stone under it peeked through and finally showed itself to be the beautiful deep textured alter for their prayers. He had imagined it just so for so long and now, it all seemed so perfect.

He opened the pack and took out a dozen more candles which they lit and began to stick in small clumps on other stone work until the room had a hellish light that suited their purpose. As he set the last one in place he heard her coat hit the floor. Turning he saw her laying on the marble slab, her flowing black blouse partially unbuttoned, her skirt hiked up enough to show most of her inner thigh. She was smiling at him and pushing her hand under her skirt, touching herself through her panties for him to watch and wish upon. She grinned and leaned her head back so her hair brushed the stone and closed her eyes. She could feel his want for her. His desire for her. The darkness of their passion clouded the room.

“I have been waiting for this for so long.” She purred into the still air. He grinned and stepped up to her. She looked at him and smiled and slipped up catlike to her knees.

“I know.” He said stepping in to hold her. “Me too.” They kissed.

She pulled back. “And it’s perfect timing right now.” She grinned and wiggled her hips. “Just about to start.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “Then . . . we should get going.” He licked her lips. She nodded and he stepped back and fished again into the backpack to take out the MP3 player and speakers. Setting them down, he started the music. The deep raunchy music started. It sounded like sex and split the ancient air like a knife, not too loud but invasive and discordant with the stillness within the crypt. The lights of the candles danced and cast arbitrary shadows on her as she began to sway to the music and rise up to her feet on the great marble alter.

He watched and began to strip his clothing off and toss it aside. As she rose up she began to squeeze and play with her tits through the lacey fabric and her claw like nails grabbed and pulled at her nipples. The entire time her eyes were locked on his as she began to dance in earnest, slowly, erotically, she swayed and played with herself as he got naked. When he stood their nude, his big cock standing straight at attention despite the coolness of the air, she licked her lips and began to run her hands down over her belly and then grabbing at and gathering her skirt up, revealing her spider web stockings and then her black panties. She grinned as she saw his eyes lower and take in her body, a hungry look on his face made her cunt burn. He wanted her so and she loved knowing that. She loved being desired and watched . . . knowing he wanted her so made her even more excited.

“Ya baby girl. . .” he muttered as he watched . . . his hand slowly sliding down his body to his hard cock. He squeezed and stroked it slightly as he watched her, thinking dark thoughts of desire as he played with himself.

She began to claw at her panties with her long nails, putting on a show of grabbing and pulling until her nails sliced through the lace and she began to pull them apart. The sound of shredding fabric filled the air over the music as she began to dance harder now. Her hips swaying to the music as she fucked the air and ripped her clothing free. Her stockings shredded easily as she continued to claw her way out of the confines of clothing. She threw away pieces of cloth as they tore free, ripping herself naked before him. Her eyes closed slightly and she ripped her shirt open, her big tits spilling out and bouncing as she danced. Pulling at the skirt she freed herself from it and tossed it away. Naked, except for shreds of lace, she danced for him, bending to show off her cunt and clawing at her tits until red angry scratches appeared for his pleasure.

She clawed at her tits, she watched him, watched his eyes glued on her flesh as she left savage red lines circling her nipples and ravaging down her breasts. He stroked himself faster as she clawed down her belly and thighs, leaving herself looking like a victim of some attack, scratches starting to bleed over her body as she molested herself for him.

Then he hands sank between her legs and she began to play with herself for him. Swaying to the music she stuck a finger in and pulled it out, rubbing her sweet cunt juice on her belly so it glistened. Then she stuck another finger in and then two. . . .As he watched her she began to finger fuck herself, squatting so he could se her fingers jamming in and out of her cunt for him.

She leaned back and braced herself up with one hand and stuck a third finger into her pussy and slammed them all in and out so hard and fast she made a slapping rhythm in time with the music, her sloppy wet pussy dripping cum already. She watched him as he stepped closer, waiting for the perfect time to take her. Spreading her legs wider, she raped her cunt brutally for his viewing. Fingers jammed in and out so hard she screamed in pain as she panted in pleasure.

Then she felt her pussy get much wetter, slippery and sloppy and liquid oozed from her. As she fucked herself she began to bleed, her period erupting from her cunt with a vengeance. Her fingers and hand were coated almost instantly as the flow came on heavy and full from the hard fingering. She leaned back and thrust her hips up so he could see the blood flowing from her cunt, splashing from her, drizzling out of her. Her fingers made a sloppy wet sloshing sound as she kept fucking herself, her knees buckling and body trembling.

Then he was on her, grabbing her hand and pushing it away as his face pressed into her pussy and he began to lick and suck and bite her. She screamed and ran the bloody hand over her tits and smeared herself with blood, feeling it slippery/sticky on her flesh. The scratches stung as she filled them with fresh blood and laughed at the pain. His mouth sucked and drank from her as she came and bled all over his face.

Three fingers jammed into her as he started to finger fuck her, the suddenness making her scream and her legs give out. He caught her and eased her down onto the cold marble as he kept fingering her pussy harder and harder. He climbed up onto the stone so that he was over her, fucking her with his hand and stroking his cock, now smeared with blood from her.

She reached out and grabbed his cock, letting her blood make him slippery to stroke and play with. She panted and mewed like an animal as he added a fourth finger and then finally shoved his entire fist into her greedy cunt. She screamed as she came and came, his fist making her whole body jerk each thrust.

“Break Me!” She screamed.

“Break Me Daddddyyyyyyyyy!”

Then her back arched and she could not breathe, could not move, and could not make a sound. She thrashed her head around and tried to make some noise but had no air too even squeak. Then her body exploded and she felt blood and cum geyser out of her cunt. She felt like she would bleed out right then and there on the cold stone . . . everything in her seemed on fire. His fist was all the way in her now and he just held it in place and wiggled it back and forth so that her orgasm kept growing until she could not take any more.

She was gasping for air and curled into a fetal position. He was on top of her as she came too. His cock was in her already and he was fucking her slowly, deep and slow as she began to breathe again. She looked up at his blood soaked face and began to sob. He leaned in and kissed her, the blood smearing all over both of them. They were a crime scene, both smeared head to toe in blood, they fucked slow and deep as she cried and wailed. Her blood soaked and stained the marble under her, the alter was consecrated.

They fucked slowly for a while until her tears slowed and she began to get hungry again. She began to fuck back onto his cock, growing in urgent need more and more. She liked how it hurt when she fucked back hard onto him, the pain inside making her bleed a little heavier. Growling, she began to slide back into him, her ass slick on the bloody stone. He grabbed her by the hair as she growled and fucked into her harder so she squealed each thrust, whispering terribly dirty things to her, urging her on.

“Daddy fucks you good?” He panted.

She mewed and nodded and tried to bite his arm.

He pushed her face onto the stone by her hair.

“Ohhh dirty lil sluts gonna bite me huh?” He thrust in as hard as he could and she yelped.

“That’s better.” He kept her face pressed into the stone, the wetness of her cum and blood making it slippery and sticky as once.

“Daddy fuck you good?” He asked again and slammed deep into her. She yelped again and nodded, panting and clawing at him with her free hand.

He laughed and grabbed her hand and pinned it behind her and started fucking her fast and hard. His cock slammed in and out of her pussy, the blood and cum in her squishing and oozing out with each thrust.

“My lil virgin whore.” He said and slammed deep into her. “Gonna drink Daddy down?” She mewed and smacked her lips and he laughed and kept fucking her.

Then he let her hand go and reached up and grabbed her throat with his free hand and held her still as he fucked her, the pressure of his grip slowly increasing as he got closer to cumming himself. The harder he fucked her, the tighter his grip until she was gasping for air with each thrust. He was panting and growling, biting at her and squeezing until she could not breathe.

Growling a savage cry, he slid out of her and using her hair and neck, spun her on the slippery stone all the way around until her face was at his cock. It was sloppy and dripping with her blood, a drop just falling from the head. He pushed her face onto his cock head and she took him in greedily. Sucking and licking and tasting his precum and her blood mixed, she lapped and sucked at him until he cried out and let her throat go.

Grabbing both hands in her hair he fucked her face and began to spew gobs of hot cum in her mouth, each thrust she was blasted full and them some, the gooey mess squishing from her mouth as he fucked her face. She swallowed and sucked and tried to drink all of the mess, pink from the cum and blood mix, that he fed her. She felt his hand slapping her cunt, the rawness from fucking and fisting making it so sensitive she screamed all around his cock in her mouth and began to cum. Each spank sent blood spattering in the air as he smacked her pussy in time with the last of his cum emptying into her mouth.

Panting, out of breath, he collapsed onto her. They lay their panting in each others arms, still rubbing blood all over their naked flesh. Kissing and licking, they didn’t speak, they didn’t need to. They were animals . . . no speech was necessary. The touched and felt and growled their feelings. She purred as he kissed and bit her neck. The blood alter stained now with cum as well . . . they were a sex crime. They were a rape scene. They were every sin possible. But most of all . . . they were perfect . . . in this lonely place, this forgotten place. . . .Here . . . they were perfect.

bottombar.jpg - 44863 Bytes

The Confessor , a Dark Fetish Sex Story

topbar.jpg - 43460 Bytes

“Harlot!” He screamed as the cat-o-nine slashed across her back, leaving rips in her white poet’s shirt. “Whore of Satan!” He cried again and let loose with another vicious strike. She cried out and fell to the ground, the ties about her wrists leaving her dangling like a rag doll.

He knelt beside her, his breathing fast and ragged, a drool of spittle dripped from his mouth and his face was twisted into a mask of pure anger. “Tell me. Tell me or I swear to Christ almighty I will beat it out of you.”

“I do not know what you wish, Sir.” She sobbed.

“I. . .” His breathing and gibbering maw nearly out of control in a state of religious gluttony. “I want you to confess. Confess to me and allow me to make you pure.”

“Confess what?” She looked up at him and tried to look innocent.

“Co….Confe…..Confess what?!?!!” His face livid with rage. “You…yo…you….you make a mockery of me?”

“No. . .” But her denials fell on deaf ears. He jumped to his feat and began to beat her mercilessly. His spit and drool covering her as he leaned into each stroke. He was muttering and stammering Latin phrases as he beat her, small prayers for her soul.

“Now. You will confess. You will confess your sins. Your life of sins. Your evil nasty wicked sins!!!!” His voice rose to a roar as he grabbed her hair and made her look at his face. “I am not fooled by tears! I know thee Satan and I cast the out!” He let her drop again.

He strode away from her to a table out of her range of sight. She heard him drop the cat and begin to paw through the various devices. Clanging metal gave her tiny little terrifying glimpses into what might be there.

“No! You don’t understand do you?” He was raving. “I am trying to save you girl!” He threw something against the stone wall. “Why must you resist me so?”

She sobbed and tried to stand but her legs were like willow branches, they bent and let her fall again. “I confess, Sir. I confess my sins. Please, Sir, mercy.” She cried to him.

“See? Seeeeee? Satan has tricks! I knew you would offer me a false confession. I have my proof! My proof!” He was kneeling next to her again, a shiny evil knife in his hand. “Evil . . . like a sore upon our flesh . . . if mine eye offends thee. . .” He paused and smiled and shook in excitement.

“I knew. I knew you would offer me falsehoods first. That is the trick of Satan. I knew, girl, but not to worry. I am strong in my faith and I will help you. I will help you.” His voice dropped to only a whisper. He stepped away and she hoped perhaps it was done. Maybe he was satisfied. Then the cold steel of the knife was against her skin.

She screamed as he began to cut away at her clothing. The blade was razor sharp and the cloth shredded with a delicious wet sound. He shoved a strip of her shirt into his mouth and sucked on it, drinking her sin in so that he would know it better as he stripped her bare.

“Before the Lord you are nude.” He was mumbling and pacing as he ripped off the last of her clothing leaving her naked. The blood from her wounds on her back dripping down her skin and leaving long red trails like tears.

“Did you hear me?!!” He screamed and she shook in fear. “Before the Lord thou art nude and bare! Thou art nothing but flesh and soul. He knows what you have done! He knows your sins you slut! You whore! You Betrayer!”

Grabbing up a Bible he began paging through it, looking for verse and chapter to give him strength. Frustrated he slammed the hard bound Book shut and took it in both hands and rushed at her. “Do you see the Book of the Lord!?! The Holy Scripture!”

Grabbing her hair he forced her to stand by pulling her to her feet. Standing behind her he began to rub the leather of the book against her back. He watched the blood trails color the brown. . .

Like tears of a saint, he thought to himself.

He stood and shook and then cried out in anger and frustration. Swinging the Bible hard and low he hit her ass full force and sent her into one of posts she was tied to. She screamed in pain as her ass burned and her hip struck the wooden post. “WHORE!”

“Yes, Sir.” She sobbed as she crumpled to the ground.

“What? What did you say?” He paused.

“Yes. Whore.” Her voice was so tiny.

He trembled in joy. “Yes…more.”

“Whore. I . . . Yes, Sir.” She let her head hang.

“Yes.” He said and nodded. He stepped back and dropped the bible to the floor. Reaching back he grabbed a leather strap flogger. He licked the falls and watched her as he stepped back up to her.

“Help me.” She whispered.

“Yes.” He nodded to her although she could not see him. “Yes. Help.”

He was on the verge of religious epiphany as he raised the flogger and began to whip her, hard. The leather raised welts instantly as he let his arm rise and fall again and again. She wept as he beat her and he began to mumble prayers of hope and prayers of forgiveness. He whipped her harder and harder, helping her find the purity she had lost.

His brow heavy with sweat, his arm aching from the effort, he finally stopped. Her back, purple from the beating, blood mixed with the color and made it a deep hue . . . like sunset or dawn sky. She was beautiful.

“Confess.” He whispered.

“Yes.” She forced herself to turn her face to him. “Yes . . . Sin . . . Evil sin. Nasty sin. I have. . . my body. . .used. . . my mouth. . . my ass. . .my pussy. . . touched. . .licked. . .sucked. . .fucked. . . harder. . .harder!” Her eyes were hungry and her voice growing stronger with each word.

“Cocks . . . pussies. . . .Fucked hard . . . Harder . . . Deeper . . . Many . . . Many . . . so many. . . .Love it . . . More . . . More . . . MORE!” She screamed at him.

His eyes wide in awe, his face contorted in confusion . . . He stood and watched her. She writhed and laughed at him. He began to shake . . . Yes . . . He had done what he needed to do . . . he had forced Satan out to the open. Now the job must be finished.

Looking around frantically he found it and then grabbed the blade from the floor. She was screaming now about evil, unnatural acts and mocking him and his vows. He was shaking, excited . . . Afraid . . . aroused . . . But focused.

Stepping up before her he looked down at her and loved her like no man had ever loved her before. Taking the knife in one hand he looked into her eyes as he pressed the blade gently into the flesh and drew a red line and let blood spill.

She screamed and he shook harder, almost unable to stand as he held his bloody hand up and smote her with the blood, splashing a cross upon her and speaking Latin prayers. She screamed and cursed him, her body jerking against her bonds. The blood slashed back and the cross was complete on her nude flesh. She grew quiet and slumped to the ground.

He knelt beside her and whispered softly in her ear. “This wine is my blood.” He placed his hand to her lips and she drank of him. “Drink of me and know your sins are forgiven.”

She began to weep and he could see that she was made pure again. The blood staining her lips red like a harlot, but her soul was pure. Upon her brow he traced a cross and she closed her eyes and slept. His job finished, the confession given.

He rose and walked away. His job was complete.

bottombar.jpg - 44863 Bytes

Tears , a BDSM , Fetish Sex Story

topbar.jpg - 43460 Bytes

She on her hands and knee’s, ass stuck up in the air, heavy breasts hanging down, her sweet face looking back at him. She had a pleading look that he understood. As inviting as her bare pussy was, as much as he wanted nothing more then to bury his cock deep in her and fuck the living shit out of her, he knew she needed more.

She wanted something very particular . . . no . . . that is wrong. She needed something. She needed to suffer for him. She needed to cry for him. In those tears she was washed free and clean. In those tears she was made new. She wanted to be new for him. She wanted to be made pure so he could defile her all over again.

As he pulled off his belt she lay her head down on the bed and lifted her ass more. Part of her was afraid, the fear never stops. Part of her was excited, that part as well never stopped. There was another part as well, one that was thankful that he knew what she needed. He knew so she didn’t have to hint or beg or try and tell him. He just knew.

She wiggled her ass for a second and he laughed. She was still looking back at him, sweet fawn like eyes so innocent and hopeful. He caressed her ass, feeling it and preparing her.

He looped the belt around his hand, the buckle in his fist. He pulled on it each pass to make sure it was tight in his grasp. She watched him, trembling and yet strangely calm. As he did the last pass, he left about a foot of leather belt hanging down then he looked at her, it was time.

She looked away, she never watched. It was like at the last instant she could not stand to imagine what was about to happen. She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax her ass cheeks. Her last image was of him standing there, pulling on the belt, hard as a rock, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. That sight, that image was burned in her mind now.

He started soft, as he always did. Light pops that were loud but really didn’t hurt. They scared her, the pop always catching her off guard. But she was a good girl, she didn’t try and move away, she was a good girl; she would take it and not move at all.

The first real pop was not that hard but, was at an angle so it stung. She squealed a little and then pressed her face forward into the bed to keep from making more noise. The next pop was soon to follow and then another and another. They were getting progressively harder and harder, her ass was beginning to burn.

He worked both ass cheeks, switching when it was getting to intense on one cheek and then back again when the second cheek got overloaded. As the strikes became harder, her ass didn’t recover as fast and soon the burn was consuming her whole. She felt the strikes through her whole body, the sting making her ears burn and her breath come short. Still though, she said nothing, she was such a good girl.

Then the strikes were everywhere. She knew his rhythm was constant; it was time that went all weird on her. The popping sound of the leather hitting her seemed to linger and overlap with the next sound. The sounds piled on top of each other as did the burn. It came in waves and washed over her. Finally she pushed up to her hands and knees but still, she did not say anything. She clenched her lips and closed her eyes and she was a good girl.

Then a strike, not unlike the other strikes in any way, the belt hit her only as hard as it had before, the sound was no louder. But this strike started it. She exhaled a huge gasp of breath and then her eyes opened without her wanting them too. She felt the tears starting, felt them dancing down her cheeks and then she let out a huge sob.

He didn’t stop, nor would she have wanted him too. The bad was coming out, he kept smacking her ass to make it all get out. She cried out the bad, it was washed out in her tears. Each tear lifted her a little more then the last. Each one carried away some bad with it.

She kept crying for him and he kept spanking her, the belt across her ass in a nice steady pace. She sobbed and moaned but she did not move, she was frozen in place. The tears dripped onto the bed and wet the sheets, they coated her face, they stung her eyes. But they did not stop.

Again and again he spanked her and again and again she sobbed and wept for him. Then she felt it, all the bad was gone and a pure tear fell. One with no bad in it. She cried in joy, so free, so pure for him. She let her chest and face lower to the bed and wept freely. She felt his arms around her, his body pressing against her.

She pushed against him, rubbed herself on him, the touch of him was so magical. She felt his love, his pride in her. He whispered such sweet things to her, told her she was a good girl, such a good girl. She was a good girl, she did it for him. She suffered for him. She wept for him. He understood that. He was proud of that.

They were not tears, they were bits of her soul. She gave them to him one by one and a flood at a time. She gave him her soul in her tears and he knew that. He kissed her. She was such a good girl. She made him happy. She wept for him. She was pure again.

bottombar.jpg - 44863 Bytes

Nobility of the Night Parts 3 through 8, a Fetish Sex Story

Part III, Satisfaction

He could feel her in his veins. He could taste her on his lips. The last traces of her dribbled down his chin. He felt her slide through his body and mingle with his other lovers. She was part of him now.

He closed his eyes so that he could feel the moonlight upon his face and for the first time, she could feel its warmth within him. For the first time, she could hear the night in his ears, could feel the gentle touch of the stars, tiny pinpricks of heat that caressed her deep inside him. Now she understood, even as she melded into him. She understood the night and how she could never have understood that on her own.

He felt her burning heat. He felt her passion. He felt the rhythmic beat of every song she had danced to, the lustful gaze of every man who had fantasized about her. He felt the thrill of exhibitionism and the sensuality of the dance. She allowed him to remember lust, not that he had ever forgotten it. But as she flowed through his veins, he remembered the poignant want of mortal flesh. He smiled and ran his hands over himself and reveled in the sensations she brought to him. His ears heard the music of the night, a million million hearts beating out the most primal of rhythms. She was at home now. She was with him.

He looked down at her body and gently crossed her arms across her breasts. He closed her legs and placed his coat upon her. Though it was only her shell, her cocoon, her chrysalis from which she had bloomed in his loving embrace, still, she would have dignity.

The moon was almost spent. The night dripped away like wine from a spilled goblet. He thought back and relived their meeting and in so doing, in a moment of mortal time, he savored the wine of the night and she saw through his eyes the elegance of the hunt. She saw how much he loved her. For the first time, she saw how truly beautiful she was.

Part IV, Stalking

He smacked his thoughts and reveled in the taste of her. There on the stage, nude, a fine layer of sweat glistened on her body, catching the tacky stage lights and staining her skin with motes of color.

Her dance had become more and more frenzied, more and more erotic, more and more passionate as she had become aware of his attention. The mortals couldn’t see what he could. They became excited by her stiffening nipples. But he saw the heart that beats stronger and more passionately and pushed the blood to those stiffening nipples. They saw her shaved lips, moistened with the beads of her arousal. But he could taste that arousal. He could smell the blood which flooded her lips and spread them like a rose for him to pluck. They saw so little, he tasted so much.

At that moment, he decided that he owned her. Not as a possession, but as part of him. She would sate a hunger which had grown from a thousand thousand years of hunger. She would be part of a dance the night had designed for its own pleasure. Predator and prey. A ballet of passion, want and need. He didn’t know when. He didn’t know where. But he would have her, in every way imaginable. She looked up from her dance, peering between her spread legs and looked for him. He was gone. Maybe he was never there. Maybe he didn’t exist. But as she slumped upon the stage and felt the aftershocks of his presence tingling through her body, she felt more satisfied than she had ever known before. His gaze had slid into her and slowly and forcefully made love to her from across the room. She trembled and grasped her breasts in her hands and felt the tickle of her juices dripping down her skin and onto the stage. My god, Sasha thought, please let him be real.

So it was each time he went to see her. His gaze would slowly penetrate her as she danced on the stage and he would ravage her soul as the mortals watched. They never knew what was truly going on, blind as they were. They saw only that her dancing had taken on a desperate and frenzied quality, passionate and sexual beyond just lewd bumping and grinding. There was something in her performance that touched them in ways they couldn’t comprehend and would never be able to explain. They could not see it for what it was, the slow death throes of the shell and the emancipation of the spirit.

This went on for days, perhaps weeks. He didn’t really know, didn’t really care. Time was not for him. Time was not for her anymore, either. For she, in the first moment that she had allowed him to slide into her mind, with that first welcoming, had become his. In that act, she had surrendered to him. Knowingly or not, she had invited the hunt.

So he stalked her, not just upon the stage, but he was the shadow as she walked home at night. As she slept, her fitful slumber was witnessed by him. In broken dreams, she would remember bits and pieces: a shadow in her room, lips gently touching her neck, a hand pulling back her silk sheets to reveal her nude form, the sensation that she was being watched as she slid her clothes from her body. He was all of these things. Regarding her, he was omnipotent, for she was a part of him and he had had hundreds of years to know himself well.

On that final night, when his gaze slid into her and she could no longer control herself, her hands became his and upon the stage she allowed him to touch her, to caress her, to pleasure her. He knew it was time. So before he had ever laid hands upon her, before his lips had ever tasted her, he had made love to her in ways only the night could understand. He had caressed every inch of her soul and seduced her spirit to rapture. Before they had ever spoken, they had become the most intimate of lovers. Now it was time to satisfy the flesh.

Part V, The Knight Seduces

Sasha was not afraid walking home down the dark streets of the city. She had always felt there was a guardian angel watching over her or something. Perhaps she was charmed. So as she walked along in an unhurried pace, at first she did not even notice the shadow that had detached itself from the night and now stood before her. The first thing she noticed was the eyes. Maybe that’s the first thing there was. But she felt them upon her, a familiar feel, the feel of a lover returning.

“I saw you dance.” The voice was dark and smooth. It reminded her of the images of chocolate being poured, rich and tempting. It was really little more than a whisper, but the night air carried it across the distance with precision.

“Excuse me?” Sasha said, stopping in her tracks. She was afraid, but not afraid. Hadn’t she longed to meet this man?

“I saw you dance.” He repeated himself, as if the second time would explain his actions more clearly than the first.

“That’s nice,” she replied, trying to sound cold. She had run into far too many psychos in her line of work. He didn’t say anything. He just smiled and she felt those eyes touch her again.

After a long moment, his voice shook the night with a whispered, “I enjoyed it.”

She was not certain how to respond. She wasn’t certain what to do. She wasn’t certain of anything. Her instincts told her that this was danger. Her logical mind told her that this was trouble. But something deep down in her soul told her this was her deepest, darkest fantasy come to life. She looked like she might run at any second. That was okay. She couldn’t get away. She didn’t even want to get away. She was a deer in the headlights, frozen, fascinated, at his mercy.

“My name is Christian. I just wanted to tell you that I enjoyed the dance. I didn’t mean to intrude.” With that, he turned and began walking back into the night. He did this not because he was really sorry, not because he was going to leave her alone, but because fear taints the taste. He could be coarse and rude and run up and say, “Hi. I’m going to kill you.” But that prompts the release of adrenaline, which makes everything a bit sour. Never mind if he took too long to feed and her brain had too much time to register the pain and release endorphins . . . the hangover from endorphins could last for months. So instead, he did what he did.

Sasha was suddenly confronted not with a stalker, but with being left alone. She was not ready for that. Her mind set had gone on the defensive. She was prepared for lewd suggestions and physical force, not for courtesy and apathy. Before she knew what she was doing, she called out, “Wait.”

Christian stopped, looked back at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I . . . Ummm . . . I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just . . .”

“. . . You meet a lot of perverts being a dancer,” he finished for her.

“Yes,” she said, as a grin crept across her face.

“I know,” he said and returned her smile.

There was an unspoken conversation between them, an exchange of thoughts and desires. While she didn’t realize it, he could tell her mood, tell her thoughts by the reaction of her body. Her pulse had quickened, her skin had grown damp from perspiration, her lips flush from excitement, and her breath short in anticipation. She told him volumes of information without a word.

In turn she saw his smile echoed in his eyes. His entire being seemed so unthreatening and yet dangerous to her. He quietly looked at her and she felt his gaze pierce into her very being, deep into her soul where she hid her most secret thoughts. He was staring at her like he had at the club and the effect was roughly the same, she felt her body go weak from his attention.

They bantered back small talk as they stood within the halo of the streetlight. He drank in every word that she spoke and tasted her mind. He savored her, allowing her thoughts to drip down his throat. This was the first time he had heard her voice and it was sweet to his ears. He did not have to feign interest in their small talk. To him, every word, every syllable, every nuance of her voice, was treasured. He delighted in her mind for what seemed like hours. The distance between them had closed to mere inches and neither had suggested walking on. It was as though the world was defined by the glow from the streetlight above. All else had ceased to be.

Christian could feel the night waning, slipping from his grasp. He was enjoying the simple pleasure of her company, something that was dangerous for him to do. His hunger was great, but he enjoyed the aroma of the feast so much that the dawn threatened to steal his prize from him. His voice deepened, not only in tone and inflection, but in resonance. It reverberated through her and the vibrations took control.

“I want you to come with me, Sasha,” he said, in that melodic way. She did not think to question him. He made the choice for her. “I want to show you something. Something wondrous.”

Then he smiled and Sasha knew instantly that she was the fly and was helpless within his web.

“You want to come with me, don’t you Sasha?” he asked.

“No,” Sasha answered him, much to her own amazement.

He looked surprised for an instant and then laughed. “But, my dear, you will anyway.” And with that, he blurred and then she was over his shoulder. They sprang up the fire escape so fast, so quietly, it was as if they had never been standing there, so far below. She watched the safety of the streetlight and the cracked surfaces of the sidewalk dwindle into the shadows. And the night swallowed her whole.

Part VI, The Night Claims Its Prize

Sasha was still where he had placed her on the roof top. She had not moved at all since he had set her down. Her eyes were wild with fear, he could hear her heart beating one thousand miles a minute, but she did not move. She was still trying to figure out what had just happened. One second they were talking and the next she was half way up the side of the building. He had moved so fast that she was not even sure he had moved; she had not even seen a blur. Then she was slung over his shoulder like a sack and carried up to the roof top and set down. She was not sure what to make of any of it. Somehow, deep inside her, none of it surprised her. It was like she almost expected something like this. Could it be she had almost wanted it?

Christian watched her. He could smell her fear. Fear tainted the flesh, so he wanted to calm her, soothe her. It was the paradox of his existence. He wanted to tell her everything she would become when finally they embraced. But to do so would terrify her. And thus, the fear would taint the flesh. If he could just show her, explain to her, make her understand what she was part of . . . he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“There is nothing really for you to be afraid of. If I had wanted to brutalize you, I would not have gone to all this trouble. I want you to understand who I am. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Yeah, you’re some sick, wacko fuck who wants me to understand his perverted little fucked up mind. Well, fuck you.”

Christian was surprised and rendered speechless for a moment. And then the laughter started. A deep, good natured belly laugh that came from the very pit of his being. My God, she has spunk, Christian thought.

“Okay. Let’s say I am some twisted, wacko fuck. By the way, wonderful choice of words. But let’s say I am a demented killer and I want you to act out my little Oedipal impulses before I kill you. If you sit there and listen, at least its a few more minutes you can try to plan your escape in.” Then, between one beat of her heart and the next, Christian went from standing on the opposite side of the rooftop to kneeling in front of her, leaning into her face. “And let’s face it, my dear,” he whispered to her, “You really don’t have much choice.”

Christian stood and moved back from her. His footsteps across the roof top were silent. Sasha was suddenly drawn into the sight of him and little details began to register. His lips had been mere inches from her face when he spoke, and yet, she could smell no breath. His movements were so graceful; cats would be put to shame. It was as if every step, every motion, was practiced to an artistic dance. Then he smiled at her again and in that smile she saw the most terrifying thing . . . she saw love.

“Okay. So talk,” she said and narrowed her eyes.

My God, she is thinking of a way of escaping, Christian thought to himself. Perhaps, just perhaps, Christian thought, I didn’t give her enough credit . . .

“By now I am sure you figured out that I am not really like other boys,” Christian said and smiled, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glee. “Have you ever wondered how dark your passions run? You know those dreams, just fragments of images when you first wake up that scare you and at the same time, intrigue you? Those things you don’t even admit to yourself half the time?” And then he was beside her again, whispering in her ear. “Have you ever wanted to try them?”

Sasha gasped as the whispered words tickled her in her mind. He was a loony. Probably some sort of serial killer. Definitely a bent fuck. But his words made her pulse quicken, her breath come short, and she could feel her body reacting to them. Her nipples stiffened and she could feel a heat burning under her skirt.

“You’ve thought about them, haven’t you?” he whispered in her ear. “They scare you, but that’s okay. Sometimes it feels good to be scared, doesn’t it?” His words seemed to resonate through her body.

“Ye . . . Ye . . . Yes,” she stammered, her voice fluttering in excitement. She couldn’t understand why. She should be terrified. She should be thinking of escape. Instead, she found her hands slowly rubbing over her breasts through her shirt and bra. Her fingers lightly traced around her nipples as he continued to whisper in her ear.

“I know what you dream at night. I have been there at midnight and tasted those dark fantasies of yours. That is how I found you. I heard a kindred soul moaning in the night and I came in search of you.” His words were like a hammer that slammed into her. It was as though a door within her was unlocked. That little place in back of your mind, a storage room for your thoughts, where you hide away all the really dark, nasty stuff, so no one sees it when they come visiting. That door was opened. She remembered dreams she wasn’t sure she ever had. Dark, nasty dreams. Images flooded into her mind. Images of flesh and indulgence and teeth and blood.

“Are you remembering it all now? Can you taste it all as it slides back into your mind?” He didn’t speak for long seconds. Instead, he brushed his lips against her ear and let out a long, deep breath. She was startled. She hadn’t expected breath and the warm air tickling into her ear sent a burning fire throughout her body. In that instant, she was his.

“Have you come to make me your bride?” she said, hopefully.

Christian brought his hand to his mouth to hide the smile. “Ummmm, my dear, I hate to tell you this. I’m not Dracula. I am not going to tell you ‘look into my eyes; I’ve come to drink your blood’. I like you . . . I love you . . . I wish you all the best. But my dear, only you will decide who you will be at the end of this night.”

“Huh?” Sasha really hated the way that sounded, but she was lost.

“One of two things will happen tonight. Either you will have enough strength to fight back into being or you will become part of me. Either way, you will live forever.” His voice was no longer flirtatious. He spoke these words slowly and with much purpose so she would have full understanding. She did not know the exact how’s or when’s, but she understood.

“So are you like, going to bite my neck now?”

Christian smiled. “Well, not exactly.” His grin deepened as he stared at her, his eyes burning into her, her breath coming in ragged bursts as his gaze pierced into her soul. “That biting the neck thing is not really my style. I have something,” he licked his lips, “a little more intimate in mind.” Sasha felt her heart skip a beat and she nodded her consent.

Sasha tilted her head to one side, baring her throat. Christian stifled a snicker and placed a finger underneath her chin, turning her face to his. He leaned forward slowly and kissed her lightly on the lips. Sasha closed her eyes involuntarily as their lips met. When she opened her eyes Christian was smiling. He traced the back of his fingers up her cheek gently and pushed her hair back from her face. He looked at her for a long moment and his eyes took on a dreamy quality. Sasha had the feeling that in that moment, he had experienced a lifetime of thoughts. She opened her mouth to speak, but Christian placed one finger upon her lips to silence her.

Christian gently slid one arm around her body and the other under her legs and lifted her up effortlessly. He carried her like a child to one edge of the roof. They turned back around and Christian looked at her intently and his grin broadened across his face.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, as his eyes sparkled.

Sasha nodded in response.

“Are you sure? There is no turning back from here.”

She was aware that they were moving, but was surprised at the speed. One instant, they were standing at the edge of the roof and the next, they had crossed the roof and were hurling across the city street below. Christian leapt this impossible distance with no obvious effort. The wind whistled in her ears as they landed on the opposite rooftop, making no more sound than a cat leaping from a chair. Their journey continued, rooftop to rooftop, for countless city blocks. Sasha’s head grew dizzy as the world flew by in a blur.

At last they reached an old brown stone building, the windows dark. It seemed to be asleep. Without warning, they came to a halt and Christian let her legs slide down to the ground. He held her while she regained her balance, until she was able to stand on her own.

“Where are we?” Sasha asked.

“A safe place,” Christian responded.

“A safe place?” she asked, looking around.

“There are places where people go to see things. There are places where people go to not see things. This is a safe place,” Christian said and Sasha noticed that their journey must have taken a lot out of him. Despite the apparent lack of effort, he looked drained. “The night is growing short. We don’t have long left. I need you . . . Now.”

He slid both of his hands around her and pulled her to him. He kissed her passionately, their lips pressing together and his tongue slowly sliding into her mouth. Her own hands wound into Christian’s long hair and she kissed him back with equal fervor and began to suck on his tongue. One of his hands wound itself into her hair, pulling it free of the elastic which tied it back and allowing it to fall down over her shoulders. The other hand found its way to the small of her back, pressing her body against his. She could feel how much he wanted her.

As Christian’s tongue withdrew back into his mouth, she allowed her tongue to probe into him. At first, she tasted the sweetness of his kiss, the warmth of his tongue and then the tip of her tongue ran across a sharp edge. As she explored his mouth, she felt the two upper canine teeth slowly swelling and extending. They continued to swell as they kissed, growing longer as the passion of his kisses grew more intense.

Sasha felt his hand on her lower back begin to slide down and over her ass and the fingers pressing into her soft flesh. His hand slid further down until it slipped under her short skirt and onto her thigh. She gasped at the feel of his hands upon her after all those fantasies she had indulged in. His fingers were gentle and firm as they began to explore her body, slowly caressing her flesh and sliding upwards towards her soaked panties.

She pulled on his hair as his fingers caressed her lips through the silk of her panties and pushed the fabric into her slightly as they explored. His palm rested across the silk and began to slowly rub her until her arousal was unbearable and she wanted nothing more then for him to take her. He pulled back from their kiss and began to nibble on the nape of her neck and Sasha expected at any moment the pain of a bite, but none came. Instead, his tongue ran over her flesh, his lips gently kissing their way down her neck.

Sasha moaned and gave into the sensations as he kissed his way down to the shallow of her neck and his fingers slipped under the panties and rubbed her shaved lips directly. Christian’s touch was magic to her and she couldn’t concentrate on anything but how it felt to have him finally touching her, kissing her. She was aware as her dress was pulled open and her breasts freed, her bra pushed aside and the soft white flesh revealed.

She felt his mouth sucking and nibbling on her breasts as he began to rub his hand over her pussy with more force, his fingers sliding into her. The feel of his hand actually touching her shaved pussy made her knees go weak and she almost collapsed, but Christian held her up, sliding his free hand from her hair to the small of her back. His touches were growing rougher, slowly taking on a more fevered air. He pulled her nipple with his teeth while flicking his tongue over the very tip. Two fingers slid into her and she groaned. He allowed her to lower down and laid her on the roof top as her legs totally gave out on her.

Her dress was pushed up over her hips and she began to claw at his clothing as well. She pulled off the long black coat and pulled hard on the white linen shirt until the buttons popped free and his shirt opened. Christian took hold of her panties and with a low growl ripped them free of her and tossed them aside. Sasha felt a small climax go through her as the sound of the silk shredding sent chills through her.

She felt his fingers grasp the top of her dress and then heard the sound of long nails, sharp as razors cutting it from her, the clingy fabric pulling free of her and falling away immediately. She grabbed at Christians slacks and tried to undo them but couldn’t get a good hold. Christian pulled back and stood up and ripped at the fabric. He shredded his own pants and stood nude over her, his eyes wild with animal passion, his entire body tensed for the kill. His cock hung free and Sasha gasped, it was perfect. Christian stroked it once and then knelt down beside her.

Lifting her like a rag doll, he brought her to his lap and slid her down onto him. She was so excited she sucked him in without effort until she was seated fully on him, her legs wrapped tight around him. They began to kiss again as she slowly rose and lowered herself on him. At first it was gentle and loving and then they both began to grow more aroused and it became rougher and more desperate. She was riding him faster and he was sucking on her nipple, his hands digging into her ass and lifting her up and dropping her down.

Sasha threw her head back and let out a scream, not caring if anyone heard them or saw them. She couldn’t hold it in; the sensations were getting the better of her. He filled her so full, she felt like she was being stretched to the very limit with each thrust. Then his sucking on her nipple became a nibbling, the nibbling then became more.

She felt twin stabs of pain in her breast as his teeth pierced her. The pain being immediately replaced by a sensation unlike any she had ever known. As he began to suckle her blood from her bosom, she felt a fire burn through her body. It was more then an orgasm, it was as if her soul was on fire. Then she noticed that every sensation was magnified a thousand times. She could feel each vein in his cock as she rode him; feel each finger individually grasping her ass. She could hear his heart beat, she could feel it. She could smell a thousand different smells of the city and could hear hearts beating for miles around.

Christian lay back as Sasha rode him as fast and hard as she could. He let the blood drip off her breast into his mouth, some splashing onto his face and lips. He drank of her and felt all that she felt. He could feel her excitement and felt her burning into him. She was panting and groaning, her excitement growing to a climax soon. So soon she would enjoy perhaps her last orgasm.

Sasha felt the fire consume her being and she began to cum. She screamed out but no sound came. Her entire body convulsed and shook with the intensity of the climax. It was like her entire soul was burning and draining from her and onto the roof top. No, she thought, not the roof top. No. . . into him.

Christian drank deeply from her breast as she began to cum. He sucked and drank her orgasm in and lived the pleasure with her. He could hear her heart beat growing faint, feel her breath becoming shallow and her flesh starting to cool. As he held her and drank, he felt her begin to die.

Sasha gave herself to the sensations and suddenly found herself feeling through him. She felt what it felt like to be in her. Felt what her ass felt like in his iron grasp. She tasted what her blood tasted like . . . what her life tasted like as she slowly dripped into his mouth. She felt the air alive, felt the night watching them. Then she felt the cold. The cold and then the sliding feeling as she was sucked into him as he drank the last of her blood in and her heart stopped.

Christian rolled over so that he was astride her as she died. As the last of her slid into him he threw his head back and let out a bestial cry that echoed through out the city. As his scream reached a crescendo, Christian came into Sasha. Sasha felt through him what it felt like to cum as a man, the intensity of it. She felt as she filled herself with her mortal seed until it dripped from her body onto the roof. Then she realized, Sasha was no more as she looked through his eyes at her body lying limp under him.

Part VII, The Trial

He could feel her in his veins. He could taste her on his lips. The last traces of her dribbled down his chin. He felt her slide through his body and mingle with his other lovers. She was part of him now.

He snapped himself out of his recollections of the hunt and looked at her body. Even in death, she was beautiful. Her flesh now stunningly white and pure. The last smears of blood on her breast showing his lips upon her flesh. She was breathtaking.

Christian raised one hand and willed the fingers to claw again. The finger crooked and lengthened and a razor sharp claw pressed out of his flesh. He carefully ran the edge of the claw on his forearm and drew a thin red line on his skin. A second later, a swell of blood oozed out and dripped down his arm. He raised the cut to his mouth and rubbed the blood on his lips until they were covered.

Leaning down, he kissed her cold lips and let his tongue slid into her mouth. Rubbing his lips upon hers, he pressed the taste of blood into her mouth. That was all he could do for her. Now she must have enough stamina to fight back to the taste, to fight back to the hunger. That was the trial of the night. Only those who’s hunger was strong enough to bring them back could survive. He gave her the taste, now she must provide the hunger. For now he could only wait and see. . .

Part VIII, A New Hunger

The man stopped in the alley and turned back around. The girl from the bar had followed him out here. He had thought that she was blowing him off when she vanished into the crowd. Maybe, he thought, maybe she had wanted him to follow her outside.

Oh Man, he thought, I might get lucky. He walked toward her with a macho swagger. He tried to look like a bad boy, like he was dangerous. He smiled at her and looked her up and down. She was beautiful all right and her skin, so pale and creamy looking that the black of her tight dress made her look shimmering in the moonlight. She was breathtaking, he wanted her.

Sasha smiled at him and licked her lips. . . .it was dinner time and she was very hungry.

bottombar.jpg - 44863 Bytes

Nobility of the Night Parts 1 and 2, a Fetish Sex Story

topbar.jpg - 43460 Bytes

Part I, The Hunter

He paused and sniffed the air. She knew death was following her and in a strange way, she welcomed it, longed for it. That is the paradox of mortals. They fear death more then anything else and yet, they long for its embrace. They try and push life to the limit to defy death. They only play at courage. They never truly know the face of death through their half closed eyes.

He had first seen the prey six days ago . . . Or was it more. Days had no real meaning, time was fleeting and there were times when weeks and months vanished to him. That was the paradox of the night. If you live forever, the time passes in spurts and leaps. Sometimes it seemed like years for one night to pass, sometimes it was a night and a year passed. Time was fluid and changing to those who gave it no mind.

He had seen her where she performed. Her lithe nude form twisting and turning on the stage in time with heavy rhythmic beats and discordant melodies. She had looked so alive, so tender. Her efforts made her blood race and her veins pulse and he caught scent of her need then. Her burning desire for him, for the night. She was, in a very real sense, waiting for him to come and kiss her, even then.

He had the impulse to leap upon the stage and take her before the eyes of the audience, but that was base and crass. Things like that marked those that would never be truly of the night. The night was seductive and subtle. It was not a harsh lover that took you by force. It slid into you as the day slid from the sky. While you were admiring the twilight it snuck up behind you and embraced you gently and rocked you into the shadows. At least that is how he remembered it, those many years ago.

Her skin was pale and clean of marks. He still found himself looking for pox marks after all these years, half expecting to see her beauty marred by purple scars of sickness. How terrible the death had been then, how merciless when it ravaged over everyone. While he had not felt the bite of sickness, he had felt the pain of hunger. The sick were taboo. The dying were best left to themselves, they were not for him or his kind. Those were days of famine to him and he turned his thoughts from them. No good to dwell upon them now when the prey was so close except to remind himself to be thankful. Like a grace to the night, he gave thanks for the bounty he followed from his hidden shadows.

He was hungry, but not hungry enough. His skin was still warm to the touch, enough blood coursed through his veins to satisfy his needs and then some. He paused to think about those within him. The mortal lovers of the past. Not lovers in the sense that mortals give to the word, making it trite and without real meaning. Not just someone he had had sex with. No, these were real lovers. Those who were part of him now. Their life was his and he enjoyed them in ways no mortal could understand. They beat in his heart and made him warm. They sustained him through his sleep. They were more then just sexual partners, they were part of him and he could still taste the dying breath of each one.

He always finished the prey off, always took the last taste of life. It angered him when some left their prey alive after embracing them. Left them to live a half life, devoid of passion for anything but death and the dying. He was attracted to the life within his lovers. How could he then leave them shells without any passion when he was done? He could not bring himself to leave them shells wishing only for his kiss. He cared for them too much for that. So that was why he waited. He needed his hunger to be so great it was consuming, that was his tribute to the prey, the lover, he would take tonight.

He always had sex with his prey; he liked to feel himself in them as they slowly ran down his throat in return. While some consider this to be akin to bestiality, having sex with mortals, he was not so lofty in his ideals. He never considered mortals a different breed and felt to do so was hubris. He looked at it like when he was still mortal. There were nobles, there were peasants, they were the same breed and just different stations. Traditions like Carpe Noctum were the act of the nobles blessing the peasants’ weddings by sleeping with the bride. It was a blessing to them and not a base act of debauchery. He blessed his victims with such passion; they finally knew true satisfaction as they closed their eyes.

This belief was not from an over inflated ego. It was from 500 years of practicing this art and being willing to learn even more from those who had been practicing it for thousands of years. He was night’s lover. He was the passion and mystery and pleasure within the night, the sensuality of shadows, the burning desire of dreams that can only come when the midnight hour has long ago sounded. He was the flesh of the night’s touch and the night was the most consummate lover of them all. It seduced the entire world every day and the world never resisted. It seduced it and then cradled it in its arms until daylight could no longer be denied. It was a quiet and thoughtful lover; it was discrete and never told its secrets. So he was as well. He was the last secret his lovers ever knew, the eternal secret that they never revealed.

Part II, The Prey

Sasha went by the name Angel on stage. She didn’t look anything like a typical angel. Her long dark hair, alabaster skin, dark eyes, and full red lips that looked like they were stained with blood gave her the opposite look and she liked that. She was a dark angel of sin on the stage and men drooled and begged for her attention. She was their goddess and they lay down dollar bill tithes for her benevolent smile to be cast in their direction.

Then he came in. His eyes did more then look at her. She could feel him touching her with his gaze, caressing her skin and running his thoughts over her flesh as she danced. In a dark room of men, he was a shadow she could feel.

There was no way for her to know who he was. She did not know any of the many names he had gone by through the many years of his life. She did not know that his gaze was more than a gaze, it was a taste, a fondle, a promise he gave to her. But she could feel all of that. She could feel him holding her with that look. Those eyes piercing through the smoke filled room and enveloping her mind and swallowing her whole.

There was pride in that look he gave her. Most men had hunger or want in their looks but, not him. He had pride in it, he was proud of her. It was as though in that look he made her his and possessed her. She was his as soon as he gazed upon her. He watched and grew hungrier for her as they wanted her more. Her dance became inspired by that gaze and she found herself defining the bounds of her performance by her look. She danced for the other men to watch but, only for him to see.

She had been attracted to other men who watched her before but, that was just a physical thing. This man did not beg for her attention, did not struggle to catch her eye, and did not give her a posed “cool look” when her eyes fell upon him. He watched her as though she was an old friend, or an old lover, that he had not seen in years. There was a joy in the gaze that told her that he was here to see her and no one else.

There was a fluttering in her stomach which she hadn’t felt in many years, like her first lover’s touch on her when she was still a virgin and the excitement of Christmas morning when she was a child all rolled into one. It was the strangest feeling, a feeling of innocent decadence. It was like the tooth fairy that would slide into her bed and not just take the tooth. It was the sandman who would give her erotic dreams. That look, it made her feel fresh, new, innocent and at the same time, dirty and decadent. She had the strange feeling that this man was dangerous to her. He would be like black tar heroin in her veins. If the first hit didn’t kill her, she would be hooked for life.

She had no way of knowing how dangerous he was to her. She had no way of knowing who he was and that his presence there indicated the end of her, at least as she knew it. She had dark fantasies. She had longings. She had dreams that she could be part of the night. But the man knew better. The man knew it was like when he was a child those many years ago, when the peasant children would play noble. They would pretend for moments, hours, in their fantasy world, that they could be the ruling class. But they never could. He, as a child, and this woman on the stage, had no way of knowing the truth . . . that nobility chose you. You did not choose nobility.

Nobility was not the acquisition of power, but rather, the expression of power. Mortals could not see beyond the ticking of the clock, the second hand defining their lives, the hour hand defining their dreams. Power was the ability to go beyond this. In the night, the ticking of a clock and the beating of a heart, the passing of a day and the passing of a life, are all the same in the shadows. Nobility is the ability to see this, but more than that, it is the ability to understand this. This is why her dreams, longings, fantasies and aspirations were the same as a child wearing a paper crown.

Sasha danced for him. She danced with every bit of passion in her soul. Suddenly, the lithe and supple movements of her body were begging him for his attention. She wished she could do more, but she would be fired. She wanted to run her hands over her body to show him what his gaze was doing to her, wanted to pull on her nipples, rub her fingers deep into herself to let him know that it was all for him, let him know how aroused she was. How wet. How wanting. But what she didn’t know was that he knew already. His gaze tasted it all.


Moonlight Switch, a Dark Fetish Sex Story

topbar.jpg - 43460 Bytes

The beginning of night, so timid and so ripe, embraced them. The shadows deepened as they watched. The woods around faded into a jungle of dark things writhing in the wind and became claws reaching to the sky, screaming silently. The cold night air bothered neither of them even though they were nude, their clothing lying in a pile by two large jugs of water. Their skin at first fading and then brilliantly white in the rising moonlight, alabaster breasts and bellies . . . their curves like some wondrous landscape for the other to explore.

They kissed and touched gently as the night deepened. As of yet there was no burning passion. The hungers of both in check for the moment they were tender and loving. Their hands played across each others skin, feeling the smoothness and the contrast, enjoying the opposing skins feel in their hands. One was burning hot, the other deadly cold. They were as near opposites as one can get.

One had hair that was raven black and lips as deep red as a ruby dipped in blood. Her eyes were dark and her body lithe and delicate. She had not a strand of hair below her head, her skin pure and deathly white. Even her groin was so smoothly shaven she might have never had hair to start with. Her lips though, pouty and pink with a deeper redness that tempted the touch. She had so many names over the years she had forgotten them all but the one she was called by now, Arwen. Her lover had named her after the Celtic deity of death. She liked that. She let the other names fade and became that for her.

The other had an explosion of passionate red hair. Like fire burning in a crown about her face, her hair seemed in a constant state of swirling, writhing, ecstasy. Her skin tickled with freckles all over, angel kisses that covered her shoulders and chest and a few, naughtily placed by an angel on her shaved lips. Her eyes were the most amazingly brilliant green, like emeralds set in her elfin face. Her lips, full and pouty, were left natural. She wore little make up, her beauty radiated from within. Her breasts, large and heaving, hung naturally and the pink puffy nipples seemed always hard, pleading for sucking. Her name was Brigitte. She was fire, pure and simple.

Their kissing and touching became more meaningful. The night’s embrace waking in each of them needs they had to fulfill. Their soft lips pressed together and hands explored further, reaching down and parting each others legs to feel their mutual arousal. Rubbing the wetness on each other they began to smell like fucking. Smells were very important to them both. Passion should smell like passion. No perfume could match the smell of sweat and sex . . . and blood.

Arwen pushed her down and slid on top of her. Straddling Brigitte’s larger hips, she began to grind her bare pussy on her as they kissed, smearing sex down her lovers belly until she was slick with it. Pinning her arms down, she grinned impishly as her need became stronger then her lovers. She began to bite her as they kissed, teeth grabbing at Brigitte’s lips playfully at first and then with more and more force. Her hands on Brigitte’s wrists clenched vice like, her lover moaned with the pain of it, a weaker person would have broken but these two were not the breakable type.

Arwen dry humped on her lover, grinding and rubbing and sliding up and down her belly. She began to bite and nibble on the neck, teeth marks connecting the freckles as she began to bite harder and harder. Her lover moaned and Arwen grew famished. The taste of her flesh, the feel of her warmth, it was all too much to resist. She let it come, let it flow from her and enjoyed the dark feeling of her teeth aching and stretching.

Then the bite. Two points of pain, finite precise points that pushed until Brigitte felt her flesh acquiesce and part. The pain was sliding deeper into her as the points became thicker, the pain digging into her, penetrating her. She moaned as the teeth spread her wide open and plunged in full length, the feeling of her own blood splurting out, pushing against them as they violated her flesh.

Then the sucking started. The pain lessened, the feeling of blood flowing lessened, now, she felt herself being drawn out. She felt herself smearing down her own neck and across her breasts. The feeding had no manners or etiquette. Arwen drank from her, used her, the teeth chewing in and out to make the blood flow more. She felt like she was dripping out those two bite marks, like she was being turned inside out or herself.

Then the wetness on her belly as Arwen came and gushed sex all over her. The feeling of her cum splashing and dripping down her flesh, she began to moan louder and that moan began to change. Arwen drank and slurped from her, the weakness making her feel amazingly aroused as she was drawn out, used, consumed. She tilted her head back and looked up. The full moon filled her gaze and made her eyes shine. She groaned more as Arwen’s drinking slowed and then stopped. She was full of her now. Brigitte groaned and the sound became a growl.

Her own need began to boil up. As she felt the teeth sliding from her and the holes began to fill and close, Brigitte felt her skin crawling, stretching. Millions of tiny pin pricks tortured her deliciously as Arwen sat back on her, face smeared in blood, eyes burning darkness. She ground her pussy against Brigitte again just to feel the squish of her own cum and laughed. Brigitte’s eyes were feral and wild, her breathing ragged, almost panting. She let go of Brigitte’s wrists and jumped up and began to run, laughing as she did. Brigitte watched her as she went, her body glowing white as she vanished into the trees.

The tiny pin pricks of pain gave way to the feeling of sliding out of herself as her flesh was covered in a silky coating of hair. Her breasts pulled in tighter and a second set began to press out, two more nipples puckering into existence on them. She ran her hands over her own body, feeling her muscles changing, growing, and strengthening. She breathed in deeply and smelled her prey running through the forest. Her nails elongated and grew harder until they were claws, razor sharp and curved. She ran the tips over her new nipples and moaned as the pain of them made her crazy in heat.

Then her clit, already throbbing in excitement ached and began to hurt. It pushed and twitched and began to grow. It lengthened and thickened and swelled up. Rolling onto all fours, she put her head down and raised her ass up so she could feel it dangle between her legs as it grew even more and the tip swelled up into a head. Growling as her ears grew back and whiskers emerged, she wagged her ass back and forth so that she could feel her cock pulling her pussy lips open just slightly as is swung back and forth.

She had mastered the art of stroking her cock with the thumb and fore finger while using the last two fingers to play with her lips. Gender was just a state of flesh and she had long ago learned to transcend it as her need required. She enjoyed the feeling of her own sex making her fur wet and slippery; tonight she needed to be savage beyond words. Tonight she needed the hunt to be about violation, taking, devouring her prey. She cried out as her teeth and jaw changed. The teeth elongated and sharpened and the jaw muscles grew stronger. Her cry changed as she did, from a scream into a long low yowl. Then she collapsed onto the ground, smelling their scents mixed in the soil. She purred.

Rising up she sniffed the air and caught scent of her lover. She could hear Arwen running through the trees. There was no joy if the mouse does not run. Brigitte growled a long, low, hungry growl. She listened and heard Arwen’s feet swishing through grass and snapping a tiny twig. She smelled the blood, the sex, the excitement and the fear. Looking up at the moon, she yowled a savage cry and then, the hunt was on.

Her foot falls were all but silent as she raced after her prey. Her eyes seeing as though it was bright daylight, she raced after Arwen in the dark. She could hear the heart beating her own blood as she neared her. She could smell the two of them mixed in Arwen’s scent. They were one in her. She sprinted forward, her hunger uncontrollable now.

Arwen heard her at the last second and tried to dodge to the right but Brigitte was too fast. She took her lover at full speed sending both of them tumbling through the air. Brigitte landed, as cats do, on her feet, spinning instantly and pouncing on her prey. Arwen pushed her off once, her immortal flesh so much stronger then a normal human’s, she sent Brigitte into the air and against a tree. Brigitte was too fast though, before Arwen could stand again she was on her throwing her down to the ground.

Arwen tried to roll onto her back but Brigitte held her in place with one hand, the claws tearing at Arwen’s wrists as she struggled. The smell of fresh blood made Brigitte howl in delight as she forced the prey’s legs apart. She fucked into her with one hard thrust, her clit/cock penetrating her and the force knocking her forward slightly. Again and again she fucked into the prey, harder and harder each time. Her cock/clit grew and lengthened to terrible proportions, hammering in and out of Arwen’s tight pussy again and again, each time deeper and more brutally until each thrust produced blood and screams. But Arwen healed as quickly as she bled her immortal flesh sealing and new before the next thrust. Over and over Brigitte fucked into her and growled in delight as she withdrew herself bloody.

Then she released Arwen’s hands, the prey was not struggling any more. Excitement beyond words exploded in Brigitte as she bared her razor claws and as she fucked the prey senseless she began to rip and tear at her flesh. Her claws ripping the back to the bone sending blood spattering in all directions only to have it heal as fast as she ripped. She howled in pure glee as she murdered her lover over and over, fucking her faster and harder until she felt her entire body begin to combust with her release.

Screaming out a bestial cry, she slammed into Arwen and began to pump her cunt full of cum, explosion after explosion emptied into her. At the same moment, she ejaculated from her pussy, squirting more cum all over the ground and her prey. She threw her head back and let out a triumphant cry of ecstasy as she finished pumping cum into and onto her lover. Then as she began to slump over her, with her last strength she used her claws to cut her breast open, once more spilling her own blood out onto her lover.

Arwen turned over, her tear stained face hungry once again. She grasped at her lover and raised herself up to the gushing breast and began to drink from her. The two embraced, their blood stained bodies sliding together as they kissed and drak and licked at one another. Their passions spent, their needs fed, they kissed so deeply they almost merged into one being.

Long moments later, Brigitte felt the last of the fur slide back into her. Human once more, she kissed and licked at her mate. They were so beyond words, they made no sound as they caressed and tasted their murder on each other. Arwen was the perfect prey, able to be taken again and again. Arwen traced her fingers over Brigitte’s clit, normal sized now but so sore. She jumped and bit at Arwen and the two laughed silently and then kissed again.

The moon was waning and dipping low in the sky. They knew they must wash and leave. The scent of their murder heavy in the air, other predators would be here soon. They must be away by then, washed and slipped back into the shadows. Then they could sleep, tangled together, hungers fed, until their hungers woke them once again. Brigitte looked at the moon and wished she could touch it. Caress it. The voyeur that had watched them countless times, she just wished once she could reach out and touch it.

They left the silent trees and darkened wood. Their sex and blood spattered all around; their scent driving other predators insane. But they were not prey for others; they were only prey for each other, an endless cycle of need and satisfaction. They were the perfect prey. Together they were an endless story of sex and love and murder . . . and only the moon could tell their tale.

bottombar.jpg - 44863 Bytes