Blistered Lips

“Kerrie Marie, come in here right now.”

You shift in your chair at the kitchen table, staring at the book in front of you. Dee Dee is pissed. And when Dee Dee is angry, she spanks. She spanks hard. You know first hand, because you’ve felt the wrath of her open palm and more than a few of her many implements more than once. And Dee Dee is very angry at Kerrie Marie.

“You might as well take your medicine and get it over with,” Dee Dee continues, “because if you don’t, I will spank you twice as hard.”

Although Kerrie Marie is just in the next room –both you and Dee Dee can hear her soft wimpering– Dee Dee doesn’t go after her. Instead she opens the Naughty Closet as she continues to talk in that subdued tone. Out of the corner of your eye you watch her eyeing the various implements hidden there.

“I think your disobedience today requires a rather special sort of punishment, Kerrie Marie.”

Because the cupboard’s open door blocks your view and you don’t dare act interested, you cannot see what Dee Dee is holding, but you do see the look on her face. The way she bites at the corner of her mouth, the hint of a grin playing around it’s edges: Dee Dee has a new toy and she is going to relish using it on Kerrie Marie’s tight little tush.

“There you are, little one.”

Kerrie Marie is standing at the kitchen doorway, hands behind her back, eyes downcast. Her small breasts, held by the purple spandex of the tank top Dee Dee chose for her this morning, are quivering. Dee Dee has turned from the Naughty Closet and is holding a long, thin wirey thing. She wiggles it and you see that it is actually three-pronged. She smiles at Kerrie Marie.

“Are you ready to take your medicine like a big girl?”

“Yes, Miss Dee Dee. I will take my medicine.”

“Do you see what I have?”

Dee Dee swipes the air with her new toy and it makes a crisp swishing sound. Kerrie Marie’s eyes visibly widen, her long lashes fluttering. She takes in a deep breath, but it catches in her throat, making a sound like swallowed sob.

“Yes,” Dee Dee smiles, “this certainly is a nice addition to the Naughty Closet.”  She looks at you.   “Don’t you think so?”

You swallow and answer, “Yes, Miss Dee Dee.” She winks then turns to Kerrie Marie. Before you can consider the meaning of that wink, Dee Dee is pointing to the counter stool. “Position yourself,” she tells Kerrie Marie.  A silent tear, like ice melting ice on a window pane, slowly trickles down Kerrie Marie’s left cheek as she stands in front of the stool and begins to bend over.

Dee Dee grabs her arm. “Wait,” she says and turns to you with a wicked smile on her face. You feel yourself blushing under her scrutiny. “What do you think,” she continues, “panties up or panties down?” You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Head cocked, Dee Dee continues to look at you pointedly. You know you have to say something.

“Down, I guess,” you say sheepishly.

“I thought so.”

She is smirking as she turns back to Kerrie Marie.

curl here against me.

it’s grey today,
cold outside the covers
colder still
outside in the land of bricks and mortar

so stay here with me
slip my panties down
and fit the length of your prick
up the crack of my ass

while I pull our arms together
around my ribs, up under my breasts
where they belong

when the day is cold
and the world is grey
stay with me

“I’m not so sure about this.”

You smile, looking into her eyes as you continue to gently wind the nylon cord around her slender wrists. She looks so vulnerable, so frail, so perfect. Her hesitation quickens your hunger; you feel it, a rapid flair deep in your belly.

“Sweetheart, just relax.”

Your voice is quiet, almost a whisper. You watch the lift and fall of her naked breasts as she breathes, petite sighs of trust and tremor mixed together. You raise her wrists to the headboard.

“Oh.”

It’s barely a word, more of a shuddered gasp or nervouse moan, that escapes her lips as you tie her wrists, there above the carmel tresses of her upswept hair. You tighten the knot you’ve made and she whimpers. It rushes through you again. A roiling quake of lust and desire. You swallow. You want to take her now.  No, not yet.  You swallow again.

“Does that hurt?”

“No. It’s okay.”

“Spread your legs, Amy. Put your feet out to the edges of the bed,” you say, moving down to the footboard and unfurling a new piece of rope. You watch her legs slowly widen. The flesh at the top of her inner thighs quivers. The lips of her cunt part slightly, and you can see its inner moistness.

“You look so beautiful.”

She doesn’t smile, doesn’t say anything, just looks at you from under her thick lashes. Tenderly cupping the heel of her right foot, you begin coiling the white cord around her ankle. The flesh there is pink and taut, hot and dry against your knuckles. As you secure the cord, her calf raises slightly from the bedspread. She is your captive. Knowing this, seeing this, takes your breath away, but you quickly reach for the other foot.

Finally she is stretched before you. White cord binding her porcelain-smooth ankles and wrists, she is a sacrificial goddess, your goddess, your beloved.

“Fuck me.”

“What?”

“I said fuck me. Now that you have me tied up like this, fuck me.”

You hesitate.

“I mean it. Do it.”

This comes out in a rush of words, a sob, as she arches her back and pushes against the cords.

And so you mount your bound goddess.

kiss me here
with your mouth
your soft wet mouth

your tongue:
put it here
then here
now here

i need your fingers
your body
your skin

on me, over me, around me

don’t ever forget to touch me
please don’t ever forget

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“You wouldn’t dare!”

I hoped I sounded cocky, my usual smart-ass self. But, from the look on her face, Samantha wasn’t buying it. Mindy was laughing, watching Samantha as she taunted and teased me. And since I was tied up, there wasn’t much I could do about any of it. Samantha smiled, leaning over my torso, stretching to adjust the leather straps holding my wrists to the bed post.

“You think so, huh?” Then, looking back at Mindy, “Tell him what I was doing this afternoon.”

Because of her petite frame, girlish titties and wispy yellow hair, everbody assumed Mindy was innocent. And she played it for all it was worth. Always wearing tiny tank tops so you could see the hard little buds of her nips through the cotton. And then those wafer-thin sandles, ankle bracelets and toe rings. A lot of the time she even wore her hair in those little-girl braids or pony tails. And the guys ate it up. But I knew better. She was a wicked little thing and dangerous as hell. Now she was looking at me, and I didn’t like that smirk on her face.

“Samantha and I were drinking beer.”

So what, I was thinking and probably would have figured out what Mindy meant pretty quickly if right then she hadn’t distracted me, suddenly pulling up that swatch of pink cloth that went for her skirt and smiling at me.

“Uh, Samantha, honey? Your girlfriend forgot her panties.”

I couldn’t believe what came next. Samantha walked right over to Mindy and knelt in front of her, pulling those small pouty lips apart and putting her tongue right in the open slit. But my cock believed it. Oh boy did it believe it! It was pushing against the zipper of my jeans in no time flat. Of course little Miss Mindy noticed right away.

“Lover boy’s getting a hard-on.”

Samantha was so wrapped up in Mindy’s snatch, I’m not even sure she even heard me. I was starting to get a little peeved. I mean what was the point of all of this? But then Mindy moaned and grabbed Samantha’s head, her fingers pushing through the brunette curls, and started pumping her hips. I wanted loose. Mindy or no Mindy, I wanted some of that action. And Samantha knew it. I’d been begging since we’d moved in together to try a three-way with me. I knew she’d been with girls before we got together, yet she always brushed me off, said she was done with “all of that.” So what was she up to?

“Samantha, come on. Untie me.”

She turned, her hands splayed across Mindy’s pelvis, looking across at me from down on her knees. I thought I was going to cum in my pants, right then and there. Her beautiful, naturally pink lips were smeared with Mindy’s juices. I couldn’t help it. I moaned.

And that is when they knew they had me. Next thing I know they were on the bed crawling all over me, rearranging this, untying that, pushing me here, retying there. I was helpless. And, I’ll admit it, I really didn’t mind. Both girls rubbing up against me as they got me where they wanted me.

Anyway, next think I know, while my left hand is still tied to the headboard, my right hand is now tied to my cock and Samantha is squatting over my cock. Mindy is perched above my head, that smooth open pussy almost dripping on me. I swear her clit was the size of a grape. And I wanted it. I wanted it bad.

“Stroke your cock and I’ll let you get a taste of that,” Samantha said as she lowered her hips down a little. I could see her spread right over my crotch and instinctively squeezed my buttocks and thrust my hips up. She pulled back quickly.

“No, no, no….”

“Please, Samantha, just untie me. Let’s play. Come on, honey.”

“Oh, we’re going to play. We are just going to play my way–not yours. Got it?”

“You heard her. Samantha’s way. That’s the only way you get to cum,” Mindy said, lowering those swollen, moist lips to the very tip of my nose, barely grazing it. I inhaled deeply. I felt my cock flinch in my tied up fist.

“Stroke it.”

Samantha’s voice was stern. She meant business, and I was so hot I didn’t care any more. I started jacking off my meat, feeling the nylon rope tugging at my knuckles and wrist with each stroke. I started moaning and groaning–I couldn’t help it–as Mindy finally lowered that slick, wet, throbbing cunt onto my face. Her slender, hard thighs were pressing in against my cheeks. I felt trapped. But I didn’t want to be anywhere else and began licking furiously, swallowing every bit of juice that ran onto my tongue.

I felt myself riding that wave, could feel my balls drawing up and tightening, when Samantha grabbed my wrist. She didn’t stop me, but slowed my pumping down just enough that I couldn’t cum. I was losing my mind.

“I said my way, baby, and I mean it. So what’s it gonna be? Huh? My way or no cummy for cocky? You tell me.”

“Answer her,” Mindy said, lifting up. She shoved those slender fingers into her pussy and rotated her hips. “You want more of this? Do you? Do you want to jerk that dick of yours? Then tell Samantha what it’s going to be.”

“Yes. Fuck it. Yes. Just let me cum. Let go of my arm. Just do what you want.”

Mindy was back on my face and Samantha let go of my wrist. I started wacking it like a crazy man. Anything. I would have done anything they asked. I was there, right on the edge when I felt it. That hot, liquid stream pouring over my knuckles, my cock, my balls. That wet golden piss from Samantha’s cunt.

And I came. I came like a mother fucker. I came so hard my sinuses swelled and my asshole puckered.

I thought I was done, they were done. Then suddenly Mindy started smashing her pussy onto my mouth, pushing my lips up against and over my teeth. It was too quick. I didn’t understand. And then she was pissing into my mouth.

I can’t tell you why, but all of a sudden I was cumming again. Harder than the first time, and I hadn’t even stroked my prick this time.

I can’t tell you why. But I did.

You’re less than average, honey. I married you because I love you, not because of your sexual abilities. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here in this bed beside me.

So why do you think I should waste my time letting you climb on top of me to hump away on me like a rabid monkey?

I would never leave you. I mean, you can’t help it. Like I said, I love you. I just find you–shall we say–a little less than exciting. Perhaps even a bit inadequate. I mean, after all, you don’t even really cum like a real man, do you now? More like a little spritz, an itty-bitty trickle of a little bit of nothing. I don’t even believe you’ve got enough sperm in those little peanuts of yours to get me pregnant. Not that we need worry about that, because, like I said, that little thingy is not getting wet tonight or any night.

Damn it! Stop looking so pathetic. The truth is best. Take it like a man, if you can work yourself up to that. And, besides, I know you visit those porn sites and play with tinkerbell the entire time. I’ve seen you, darling. Don’t deny it. Catherine and I caught you at it just last week. Remember Thursday night? When you heard us laughing in the kitchen and came running downstairs? Fumbling with your zipper?

Why are you blushing? See what I mean? Men don’t blush. Now, dear, put the little guy away. Go ahead. Tuck it back in your boxers. That’s a good boy. It’s so much better when you face facts, isn’t it?

And honey? Before you go to sleep, go downstairs and get me a glass of wine.

i remember your mouth
its full swell of lip
almost a girl’s

and oh those kisses
those whole grain kisses
lacing
my blue, blue ruin.

and oh the rythms
the casual rhythms of your tongue
sharpening, sharpening my body

and later the white whispers
that
unraveled
a brittle, brittle silence

i remember your mouth
pressed soft
pressed cool
pressed mute
against my neck
when the poetry was gone

You know she knows.

She’s been winking at you, licking her lips, eyeing your crotch, leering wickedly. You think she can smell your guilt, smell it on you, smell it oozing from your pores. You look out the window, feigning calmness. She can’t know. This is crazy thinking. It’s impossible. You think this to yourself, yet you don’t believe it.

The door opens. Kelly is back from her break. Watching her walk to her desk in those killer heels, you see her catch Marie’s eye. Are they both smirking? Do they both know? You need to get out of this office, take a walk, get some fresh air to clear your head. With a sigh of what you hope comes across as casual indifference, you push your chair back. You clear your throat.

“I guess I’m going to go out and grab some lunch,” you say, starting to rise.

“Not so fast, buster boy.”

You feel yourself turning red even as you sit back down. Flustered, embarrassed, you hear Kelly giggle at—what? What Marie said? What they know? The way you sat down so fast, like a well-trained puppy?

“Now that we’re all three alone…”

Marie is walking toward you, arms behind her back. She’s wearing black silk stockings again. You try not to look at her legs, try to think of something clever to say, try to tell yourself that nothing is wrong.

“I have something of yours, or I should say Kelly’s.”

Kelly giggles again, that beautiful girlish music, now a torment. You can’t even look at her. Worse, behind your desk you feel yourself becoming hard. Oh God, they found them. Fuck! What do I do now? How do I get out of this? I need to get out of here.

But it’s too late. Marie has brought her arms out in front of her. You don’t want to look at her outstretched hands, what she’s showing you. You try to look past the clutch of white satiny fabric to her face. You watch the cruel snarl of her red lips, moving as if in slow motion.

“You’re a fucking pervert, a dirty little dog, a crotch-sniffing panty thief.”

Kelly is crossing the carpet, one hand tugging at the hem of her skirt, the other dangling a key. Glimpsing a pink garter, you realize the key looks familiar. Your eyes darting back and forth, you start fumbling around your desk. Surely they are here somewhere.

“Looking for these?”

You hear the metallic clattering, even as Marie is pulling them from her ample cleavage. She smiles, leaning in close and jingling them in front of your face.

“What’s that,” Kelly says, sliding onto the corner of the desk, looking pointedly at your crotch, “a stiffy?” Her skirt is all the way up now. Seeing the pink lace of her panties, you feel your cock flex. You can’t help it. A moan escapes your constricted throat. Marie laughs as Kelly presses the key into your sweaty palm.

“Now let’s unlock that bottom drawer and see how many pairs you have in there,” Marie says.

And you know Marie knows and you know that you are fucked.

“Would you like to come out of your cage for a while, pet?”

Hearing his Mistress’s voice at the top of the stairs, Matthew’s cock began to twitch. With each steady, slow click of her heels as she descended the steps, it grew and the restraining ring around his balls tightened, causing the attached butt plug to automatically begin vibrating. Hurriedly, he dropped off the cot and onto his knees, pressing his face to the floor of the cage in supplication, as he’d been trained.

“Heel.”

Keeping his eyelids lowered, he unbent from the waist to an upright position, bringing his arms down to his sides. Eyes focused on her black leather boots and remaining still despite the rippling sensation of the butt plug, Matthew listened to the key rattling in the lock of his cage.

“Well…”

“Yes, Mistress Diana, I would like to come out of my cage.”

“You do know I am going to beat you, Matthew,” she said, swinging the cage door open. If it weren’t for the constraining ring, he would have lost control, orgasming without permission, just hearing those words from her lips.

***

Matthew is again lying in his cot, Mistress Diana sitting beside him. She tenderly runs her fingertips over the welts along his neck and shoulder. Though he tries his best to suppress his tears, they escape, sliding down the sides of his face. “We will have to put some Betadine on these and the ones on your backside later,” she tells him. “I was rather rambunctious with my whip tonight.” Although his body is aching and tender, he answers her respectfully, “Yes, Mistress, if it is your wish.”

Reaching to undo his restraining ring, she continues, “Once you’ve healed, I have a delightful new metal and barbed wire baton we are going to try out.” He shudders–both at the thought of future torture and the sudden grasp of her hand around his cock.

She begins slowly stroking him.

“Would you like to orgasm for Mistress, Matthew?”

“Yes, Mistress. Please, Mistress, permit me to serve you with my orgasm.”

The rhythm of the stroking becomes more urgent, and Matthew feels his orgasm building. Now he is sobbing. The pain, her touch, his need, it is all too much. He feels her breath at his ear, her hair on his chest, can smell the sweetness of her shampoo. She whispers, “Then tell me who you are, Matthew. Tell me who you are, and I will let you orgasm.”

“I am your beautiful bruise.”