Knkstriped

The Waiting Game

There’s an instant when the expression in his eyes turns from adoringly playful to speculative intent. That look, as he sideslips from boyfriend to Dominant; hunger turning to command, sparks heat and a flood of wetness in response. My legs part of their own accord, my breath hitches in my chest, my mouth parts in anticipation. Signalling to him my willingness – my eagerness – to be owned and used and taken by him.

He cuffs my ankles, fastening them to either end of the spreader bar so that they are held wide apart. I’m forbidden to come until he gives permission, he tells me, his voice low and calm. Naturally, at this ominous news, I moan and squirm in excitement. It’s going to take a long time, he warns with a smirk. Unnff.

#Pervember 16: Threesome/More-some

Today’s the day. After weeks of careful negotiations over DMs and cups of tea, detailed planning – most of which I was not party to by my own request – and shivering anticipation, we three have arrived at the place and time of our assignation.

The Storm

This story follows on from The Governor’s Wife


Hatches have been battened, sails have been furled. There is even less to entertain her than usual; the crew are universally tight-lipped and tense, paying her little regard as they attend to their foul-weather preparations. Her presence on deck went unnoticed despite her languorous touching of masts and rails, her speculative glances at ropes and cleats. Has she become invisible since the storm warning was sounded? Eclipsed by Mother Nature, she feels even more superfluous than ever, unable to contribute more than ornamentation to which the sailors are oblivious, she retires to her dark cabin and broods.

Opening Lily

CONTENT WARNING: This is part dark fantasy, part writing exercise and wholly fictional. It depicts non-consensual sex, dominance and violence within a very disturbing relationship, by characters whose eventual wellbeing cannot be assured. If these are things that would distress you to read about, even as fiction, please don’t go any further with this blogpost. Always take care of yourselves and each other.


Word is sent to the door of the concubine house. “Lily. He’s asked for Lily”

Greedy

“You’re a greedy little slut, aren’t you?”

The question is delivered half-chidingly, half with amusement. It’s a rhetorical question but one that I am still expected to answer. Contrition or cheekiness? I weigh up which is most likely to be rewarded and opt for blatant laciviousness

“I am, Sir. I want whatever you will grant me”