This is the space where you, my dear fans, will find free stuff to read. Please feel free to share the link to this page, but understand the intellectual property that is on this page remains, as always, mine.
Much Love and Kinkiness,
This is a piece I submitted to International Fisting Day 2013 – to help fight the unjust banning of Fisting in porn on the grounds that it is seen as ‘obscene’ … Thanks Courtney Trouble for starting up this queer pride feminist movement!
She gave him the ultimate control with the words “my body is yours to do with as you wish Sir!”
Did she know what she had offered… what he would take?
She was thrown down on the bed, he roughly spread her legs, and pulled at the panties that wouldn’t give.
He reached down to his belt; she heard the snap and knew what was coming.
The knife. Flick!
“You were told to be accessible, girl.”
“I’m sorry Sir, please don’t cut them, they are my favourite …”
“Your own fault, ya shouldn’t’ve worn ‘em!” Rip, the first side was cut; the cold blade run across her cunt, already juicy and deliciously plump and ripe from a ripe spanking earlier in the night.
“Mmmm girl, you smell so good… just like honey!” the low growl of his voice fed into her soul and she knew she is mere prey for the hunter now.
She looked up at the canopy of the bed and to her surprise saw herself spread open and waiting, trusting. The back of Sirs head hovered over her pussy; his long hair tickling her white thighs slicked with the juices released; her hands entwine in the iron work of the bed head, her corset, pushed her breasts up high and tight, it was so tight her breath was merely a gasp. She had no idea what Sir was going to do, but her pussy as his, her body as his…
“Girl, you have such a juicy cunt, but for what I have in mind for you, I think I’m going to have to help that along.” As he was talking the black latex gloves snapped into place, the knife set aside and a bottle of lube clicked open.
A long pour, over her shaved, mound and the cool liquid slid over her hot lips, her clit contracted and her ass shifted in anticipation of the drip.
“Now you’re going to have to just breathe on through this, ‘cause I know you can take this…” His gloved hand was rubbing the lube all over and coating the back of his hand, sliding it up and down her lips. Her hips rose up to meet his pressure. He slapped the flat of his hand onto her cunt, and she stopped grinding against him.
His finger traced the line from apex over her clit and slit, and down towards her anus. There was so much lube, she knew what was coming; she has been watching his hands all night, all week in fact. Fisting was his ‘thing’ and she had a willing cunt – open, juicy, wholly ready to swallow his fingers, one and a time.
Gently she felt the probing of fingers her eyes closed and her breathing settled to stop her from freezing up… they were alone, in the bubble, no one was near, no one could see, the bed was floating and so was she. Her cheeks were flushed and hot; another finger inserted as he leaned down and bit her thigh. Her eyes flew open and she saw his head so close to her cunt, the black gloved hand, half in, half out now; exhaling, she slowly floated back into the sensation of the bed beneath her, the hand, her puppet-master, entreating entry to her hole, allowing him the ultimate control.
The space he was going to inhabit this was her space. He may have the ultimate control, but she had given it to him, she had handed over the authority for him to play in her secret space. She felt herself being filled up, the pressure pushing and pulling her into the other dimension, the space of wholeness, connection, spirit and light… so much fucking light!
The spot light was turned onto the bed and she was not alone anymore, the spot light was breaking at the edge of the bubble and she wanted it to go away. Her arm wound over her eyes and the light disappeared, he reached up and grasped her hand, roughly pushing it into her groin with the words, “Play with yourself!”
She forgot about the light, she forgot about the people, the noise disappeared and the bubble was back in place again. She was with Sir, in the bubble, her fingers moved over her clit, her erect clit pushed forward by the space behind being filled with more….
More fingers, more thumb, she wanted more and like a hungry mouth her cunt opened that little bit wider, Sir’s hand slid in and a growl escaped her, echoed by his growl, the two primals, heads thrown back, locked eyes in the mirror above and for that moment, became two pieces of the same puzzle, connected.
“That’s what I was looking for…. come on give me all you’ve got…” The words reached her on a different level, not through her ears or her eye, but through her skin! She felt the energy wash over her, as he transformed from being to spirit walker and she from human to primal. Her hands gripped the iron work again and bore down on Sir’s fist, now resting neatly inside her, her hips rocked on his fist; he was no longer in control, the switch flicked in her and she knew that she was giving him as much as he was giving her. Her orgasm was all for him though; she had to ask for it.
Words would not form; she tried to plead with her eyes,
“Girl, you know you have to ask…. now how you gonna do that?”
A shake of her head and she knew that her primal had to allow her to speak.. She needed to come, it was all her body could do to hold off, the connection was intense and fulfilling, and beautiful, but if she didn’t…
“Sir, Please …”
“Please, what?” He really was going to make her ask, wasn’t he?
“Please Sir, may I come?”
“Yes Girl… come for me!” A quick flick on her clit, and he pushed his hand a little deeper inside and forward, she gasped as her back arched completely off the bed. A howl escaped her and she sat bolt upright!
“You’re gonna break my hand girlfriend!”
She lay back on the bed looking up once again at the mirror and watched Sir slowly pull his hand from the space, her cave, her playground.
He bit into her thigh and she gasped knowing how it felt to be fully alive, electrified and connected!
Here is short story I wrote a while ago that was published in The Community Press Magazine (2008)
Walking up and down the aisles of the shop, I feel every man’s eyes turn towards me … am I just imagining that they can smell me wet, horny, and wanting? I’m sure it’s not just my imagination when a man stops to ask me something as I bend to reach for an item on the bottom shelf, my ass protruding, my scent released. I stand quickly, too quickly, and loose my balance, did I want to fall into his large frame, his strong arms? No …not yet!
It is too soon to hear that four-letter word, the one I crave, the one I desire, Mine.
More encompassing that love, as it takes trust, honour, and respect to hear that word, yes, and love.
Mine, whispered at that right moment, can bring me to my knees quicker than a slap across the face.
Mine, a word that speaks to something in my core, something flutters and takes me to another place.
Mine, Oh to hear that word … to be owned, to know my place.
All this goes through my head as I stare at the man standing before me. Looking down upon me, softness in his eyes, yet a strength I cannot know is also there. He speaks,
“Thank you, little one” but I suppose anyone next to him would be little, he stands at over 6’ 5” tall.
“For what?” my voice catches in my throat as I look up into his eyes.
“The view” he raises an eyebrow.
“Y, y, your welcome” I stammer, looking down toward the ground, a
scuff mark from a trolley now has my attention captured.
He continues to speak, but the words float over me like a swarm of butterflies, the sound of his voice more musical that an orchestra. It is that accent, where is it from? I cannot define it… I try. However, that would mean focus, and the only thing I can focus on now is the music of that voice, standing there beside me, and his frame, blocking my vision from all else. I feel weak and lean back against the shelves. He leans in, I hear,
“Are you alright, darlin?”
“Do you feel weak?” he leans in closer
“Yes.” I whisper
“Do you need something?” He touches my cheek with the back of his finger
“Yes,” my head lowers and turns towards his hand
“What do you need?”
“You.” I look up into his liquid gold eyes pleading for him to take me, there and then.
“In time my little one, in time” he cups my cheek, leaning down to kiss my offered lips, so lightly, I am sure I imagined it all.
I shake my head and stop staring blindly at the condoms. Moving the trolley into the aisle, I look each way, it is empty.
Was that real? Did that happen? Or is it you inside my head?
Coffee Break by KL Joy
He stands beside me at the cafe, baseball cap pulled down low.
“And does your son want something too?” the waitress asks.
“My… ahem, ah, no, thanks,” I stumble and blush, tapping impatiently as we wait for the coffee to appear. He seems quiet, almost like he hadn’t heard the ‘son’ comment. As we head back to the car hand-in-hand, he lifts his cap to reveal the youthfulness that truly belies his age, still no facial hair apparent. He stops me and turns my face to his; his lips touch mine lightly, subtly at first, then with a hunger that always rises about 12 hours after his T shot! I nearly drop the cup of coffee.
“Let’s get out of here!”
It’s only a couple of blocks to his house, but we don’t make it. The car is parked in a secluded corner of the car park, next to a creek. It’s 5 pm and the afternoon traffic is building around us, like the tide of heat that is building between us. I lock the doors as he unzips his pants, pushing my hand down the front of his Bonds wide band trunks, I feel the bulge, the heat.
“No, not yet…” I say.
My coffee sits on the console between us the warm aroma mingles with the scent of sex, now heavy in the air. His long slender fingers, trail down the side of my cheek. He tries to entice me again.
“Would I do this to my mother?” he says with one eyebrow raised, his fingers continue along the side of my neck to the line of my top, pulling gently until my rising breasts are almost exposed. His mouth follows the line just trailed, and nips at the flesh. That’s enough to bring a groan from my throat that tells its own story.
“There are certainly no ‘motherly’ feelings here, my boy!” I hold my hand to his chest, firm muscles ripple below the palm of my hand and I recall the hours of gym work that go into sculpting his upper body.
Yes… he is my boy, my submissive, my lover, but he is certainly not my SON! I hold him at bay and make sure he knows that I am in control – not his T-shot, not his libido, but me. My will alone will let this happen… or not!
I push him back into the seat. Hat sitting akimbo, he is disheveled and looking at me as though he wants to devour me. It takes all my self-control to smooth my hair, lift my cup and take a sip of the coffee. The need for caffeine now overrides the other sense of urgency that I waylaid, but only momentarily.
“Hands on your junk boy, I want to see you pleasure yourself. Remember the rules: you need to show me what you like!”
“Yes Ma’am!” Without a second thought, his hand slides his undies down over his slender hips. In seconds, he has his transcock in between his fingers and thumb, stroking it gently, pulling down and out. I watch sipping my coffee, enthralled at it grows,
“Hmmm I think you’re getting bigger there boy!”
“I’d hoped you’d notice that Ma’am, I am…” he said, a sense of pride shining behind his eyes. Fingers moved more swiftly, breath steaming up the windows, as much as the rising steam from the coffee I held. He was stroking, pulling, enjoying. I was watching his face – he was an open book, every touch a page turner.
“Do you want to come for me, boy?”
“Yes please, Ma’am,” begging, breath ragged, still stroking.
“You know what to do then,” I prompted, taking another sip of coffee.
“Please Ma’am, may I reward myself?” he begged looking at me with crystal blue eyes.
“You may.” Within a few short tugs, I saw the flush rise up his chest and cover his face, as he came for me, with me, alone.
Like Mother, Like Daughter
© 2008 From 50 Shades to BDSM
The girl sat in the waiting room, clicking her thumbnails, a nervous habit she had had for a long time. Her mother sat beside her, why’d she have to come, I’m almost 20 … I can do this on my own! The clicking stopped as the door opened … the doctor came out of the surgery and Tanya could see the chair, it looked much like a dentist chair at the top, but the bottom half was bent upwards, with the stirrups protruding out to each side. It looked like some sort of torture chamber and her mind wandered to darker secret places …
He took her blindfolded, leading her up the stairs… to where? She did not know. Her gumption had brought her to the door of this man’s house, but now she was losing her nerve. Too late to back out now, she thought.
She had always fantasized about older men, men in authority. This doctor was about to perform one of the most intimate rituals on her body, and yet all she could think of was the control he had over her once she was in the chair. She squirmed a little on her well-rounded bottom, as she felt herself getting wet, would he notice. Of course, he would! Her mother laid a hand on her knee to stop her from fidgeting,
“It’s ok dear, I’ve been coming to Dr. Stone since you were a little girl and he has always been gentle with me, taking me through the procedure quickly and painlessly.” Patting her gently, her mother laid her large hands back in her lap. Hands that over time had grown weathered with the manual labour she had done. Large hands. Tanya remembered what those hands had been like when she was growing up. Loving and gentle, at times strong with discipline, something her mother felt would make her a better person. Tanya turned in her seat remembering a bargain that had been struck between them when she was sixteen, to be grounded or spanked. Of course she chose spanking, at least it was over quickly, though she always remembered the lesson.
“Hello Mrs. Graesome, how are you?” Dr Stone looked down on them over the tops of his glasses.
“I’m well, Dr Stone,” looking down a blush rose in her cheeks. “I just wanted to … well you know your job and I just wanted to ask if you would look after my daughter as you’ve looked after me Sir,” Tanya looked at her mother, so decisive and strong, had just turned to jelly in front of Dr stone. What was it about this man that was so special?
“Of course Mrs. Graesome, I would be delighted.” A gentle smile and her mother went coy.
“Thank you doctor I know that you will look after my dear Tanya, this being her first time and all.” Tanya stood heading towards the door of the surgery and that chair.
“Oh, such a special occasion, well then, we must begin! Tanya.” Motioning for her to go through, he followed her into the room. As the door closed, she noticed the shifting of sound, as though the walls were padded, soundproofed or something like that … strange for a doctors surgery?
“So Tanya this is your first time with a Gynecologist I understand?”
“Yes Dr Stone, my mother thought it was about time I saw you”
“Indeed, indeed” His silver hair caught the light making it look like threads of silk. He looked down at his note pad and began asking her the usual questions, all the while taking notes. His hands were long and lean. Tanya caught herself looking at those hands reminding her of another time ….
“My dear, have you been naughty?” The man’s voice was soft in the room, the door clicking behind her she felt her heart beating faster. She was instructed to sit on a chair, the blindfold removed. His hands were soft, yet strong as they lifted her chin to look him in the eye.
“Yes Sir I have, I need to be punished Sir.” Tanya knew the game well enough, or so she thought. She looked around taking in the surroundings.
“Are you familiar with the art of spanking?” A quick intake of breath and Tanya replied.
“Only the discipline my mother gave me Sir”
“Well for starters, I’m neither your mother, nor your Sir so you may call me Doctor…”
Dr Stone looked at Tanya sitting in the chair next to his desk, her hands constantly fidgeting, clicking her nails and unable to look him in the eye. He continued to ask her questions then told her to change into the gown behind the curtain in the corner of his office,
“And the opening goes toward the back dear. You will need to take your panties off,” again he looked over the top of his glasses at her; she looked down a blush starting under her shirt and rising up her cheeks. Mmm I shall be glad to see that rosy color on all her cheeks…
Tanya moved quickly to change into the gown, coming out from behind the curtain she noticed Dr. Stone looking over a long silver implement, shaped like a ducks bill and again she blushed.
“Come, come, now don’t be shy, this will not hurt one bit. Pop your bottom up here and we’ll take a little look see.” Tanya had always thought her bottom was a bit too jelly-like, always very rounded and it jiggled just a little when she walked. Of course, Dr Graesome noticed this with appreciation. He instructed her how to place her legs in the stirrups and lay back.
“Now take a deep breath in and exhale, dear” Dr Stone gently placed the silver beaked implement at her lips, and inserted it inside her.
“Well, no need for my gel here looks like you are well lubricated.” The top of Dr. Stones head was all she saw, he was so close to her Tanya was sure he could smell her sex. Tensing slightly at the intimateness of the situation, she drew in her breath.
“Now, now, take a deep breath again and relaaax. I will be gentle here and it won’t take long.” The soothing tones of his voice worked their magic and Tanya could feel her muscles uncoiling. She let her mind wander …
The university pranksters had set her a task and she was not going to let her team down, the prize was a free rider for a week at the bar on campus and her friends were counting on her. All she had to do was visit ‘the doctor’ they said and do as he requested….
“Very well then, let’s begin! I wish to do an examination on your bottom my sweet, bend over and hold onto your ankles for me and do not rise up from that position understood?” Tanya knew that with her short skirt once she was bent over he would see that she had no panties on.
“Yes Doctor, as you wish” She stood from the chair and bent as instructed, he walked around behind her to reveal her buttocks. The skirt, though tight lifted easily over her rounded ass.
“Hmmm no panties; what kind of examination were you expecting?” The Doctor placed one hand on her ass and felt the soft fleshiness of the youthful skin. Squeezing it and patting it gently, he stood side on to her allowing him to explore her ass and upper thighs with his right hand….
Dr Stone stood abruptly,
“All done my dear, not so bad now was it?”
“N…n…no Doctor,“ Tanya was pulled back from her revere to see him standing there smiling at her, his hands clasped in front of him resting on his white coat.
“I need to make something very clear to you my dear; It doesn’t matter that your mother is also a patient of mine, anything you say is between you and me, so come sit here and tell me Tanya… why were you wet? What were you thinking?” Dr. Stone’s manner was calming and Tanya, as though hypnotized by her own fantasies, sat back on the chair next to the desk.
“Can I really tell you anything Doctor? And you won’t tell my mother?” Tanya stumbled wanting to tell him about her university prank… would he understand.
“Of course dear, everything you tell me I keep in the strictest of confidence.” Dr Stone leaned forward resting his forearms on his knees as though talking to a child in need of codling.
“Well you asked me earlier about my sexual activities, and I didn’t tell you about one of them.”
“Yes dear, do go on.”
“Well this one time, I was sent on a dare to a house where I was taken to a room, told to stand with my hands on my ankles, I was inspected by a man who was called ‘the doctor’,” Tanya spoke softly looking down at her hands, still clicking her fingernails.
“Yes, and what happened then,” Dr Stone leaned in further and placed his hand on hers to stop her clicking.
“Well, I was deemed worthy of a spanking Dr. Stone, and it was not till I was in the waiting room here that I thought of it, the Doctor in my dare looked much like you,” Tanya felt relief at having told her story to him.
“So why did this make you wet? Did you enjoy the spanking?” Dr Stone rubbed her hands gently, his long fingers engulfing her whole hand.
“Oh yes Dr Stone, very much! Only, because I was blindfolded when I arrived, I could never find the house or the man again.
“So what would you like to do about it my dear?” Dr Stone sat back and took in her demeanor; she seemed to be much more at ease now, no fidgeting, and no clicking fingernails.
“Well Dr. Stone, I was wondering … would you … could you …” Tanya lost her nerve.
Dr. Stone stood up with out saying a word and took Tanya’s hand leading her back to the stirrup chair. She followed blindly, hopefully.
“Dear me, you are so like your mother aren’t you? You have been naughty? Tell me how?” The doctor shook his head and smiled at her over the top of his glasses.
“Oh Doctor, I have been very naughty, my friends took me to that house and I followed through, ever since then I can think of nothing else but a doctor spanking my soft ass.” Tanya stood with her head lowered. Dr. Stone lifted her chin, just like the doctor in the prank, and looked into her eyes.
“I shall spank you, just because you asked, understood?” His voice was quiet, his words sank in… finally I will get what I deserve! He turned her around and told her to crawl up onto the chair, facing the back this time. Her arms were leaning on the back of the chair, knees spread pushing against the armrests.
“Now what I need from you is to just lower your back and stick out that lovely bottom of yours.” Tanya did as instructed, feeling the cool air of the surgery on her hot, wet pussy. Her gown had fallen to the sides exposing her buttocks nicely.
“This is the position I would like you to stay in while I dish out your discipline, understand?”
“What do you think you are getting a spanking for Tanya?” Dr Stone began playing with the fleshy mound presented to him, pinching and patting the underside of the cheeks.
“For being naughty?”
“No, it is because I like your bottom and I want to see it very red and rosy, do you understand?” The patting began to warm up her cheeks, she could feel them tensing under his ministrations
“Is this what you want too?” Pat, pat, pat, each one getting stronger and stronger.
“Yes Doctor, I don’t want to be able to sit for a week!“ She yelped as he smacked her for the first time in earnest. Rubbing the area to settle it down, he laid his hand on her other cheek and repeated the process … pat, pat, pat stronger and stronger until…. smack! Her back arched like an angry cat as he worked her plump bottom, Dr. Stone placed a hand on her lower back pushing down to give him better access. Her wet pussy now red and hot with longing also stuck out, though at the angle he was at, the doctor could only see the slightest of red tinges on her cheeks.
“This will not do, its not red enough…” again he started patting only this time when he rose to a smack he didn’t stop at one, or two, or three. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK … it continued for at least ten minutes. She wondered for only a moment if her mother could hear it in the waiting room … SMACK, SMACK, SMACK … his hand pressed her back lower, sticking her bottom further into the air; her breasts squashed against the back of the chair she squirmed and wriggled; though he had her locked tightly in position, the control he had over her making her wet.
“That looks better” He stopped, surveying his work. Two rosy cheeks looked back at him, Tanya turned slightly to see him gloating over her behind. A blush rose in her face, had she really done this?
“Ahhh, now that is what I like to see, both sets of cheeks rosy!” Dr Stone helped her down from the chair. Taking her hand, he led her over to his chair, pulling her down on to his lap. Tanya wriggled a bit feeling the sting on her cheeks as she sat on his knee.
“Now Tanya, I would like you to come see me once-a-month for a regular check up, okay?” Dr Stone patted her behind to make sure she understood what he meant.
“Yes Doctor, I would be happy too” she hugged him affectionately and he sent her to get dressed. His eyes followed her, watching the peeking redness as the gown shifted with every step.
As she walked out into the waiting room, her cheeks still rosy with a blush that came up from her toes.
“Oh don’t worry dear, we are all a little embarrassed the first time,” her mother took her in a warm embrace and they left the surgery together.
Dr. Stone turned to his receptionist and said jovially,
“Like mother, like daughter!”
In June 2013 I did a BLOG tour: you will find all of my ‘stops’ listed below. Lots of fun reading there, but ONE piece stands out and I’m going to share that below….
To read more about ‘HOW’ this was written, go to Stop ONE on the blog tour and read behind the scenes of this fast, furious fiction!
Fast Furious Fiction
Shit! He slapped me, right across the face – my ear was ringing, and it made me neck crack. My mouth hung open, I was wide eyed and in shock. My motor had shifted in that moment, out of drive and into neutral.
He stood there, calm and mellow and I wanted to place my hands on his chest and push at his chest. I knew if I did he would punish me!
The crowded bar moved around us like a wave, and I tried to disentangle myself and blend back into the crowd. He grabbed my wrist and held my gaze. His eyes were so alluring. Someone jostled me and I crammed against his body – I wanted to get away but his stiff beam banged into my leg and reminded me of our frequent lusty moments; his cock punching my mouth, the stainless steel cock ring hitting my teeth; his swollen head infiltrating my throat. He would be the one to decide if I breathed or not, as he held my nose – I blustered, as snot ran down over my mouth and onto his cock, my eyes watered as they begged him. Far from the majestic princess who’d walked through the door. I’d been thoroughly fucked!
I stood wondering, skeptical of the man before me, would he be able to bring his specialized brand of Dominance onto me again? Unfortunately, I didn’t think so, my ego was bruised, so was my trust, no, not bruised, broken, snapped in half. Absolutely no way to get it back to that amazing place of D/s that we had.
This new side that had developed was more than his pure sadism that I’d relinquished myself to more than once or twice before.
He knew I would be obedient to his requests tonight, but the fact remained, I had said my safe word – never before had I done that – he seemed to be fascinated by my internal flower bud closing its face to him now.
*****There are special places in my home town that evoke strong memories for me…Fitzroy is one of them. An opportunity to write a piece for the Little Raven came up and though this was too long to be used in their frolic, they have used it in a pod cast. Here is the full version for my readers.
Never Judge a Book by its Cover (Art)
Retro clothes hung in the double front shop window display, a girl in cowboy boots and knee-length A line skirt stood behind the mannequin trying to adjust a hook high up on the wall. Her skirt rode dangerously high as she teetered on the edge of the dais. Her hair was gathered in a polka dot bandana tied off in a dolly bow, midriff exposed beneath the gingham shirt tied up at the front catching on her well-formed bust line. Wandering past, I couldn’t help but stop and stare, waiting, wondering if this was going to require a ‘knight in shining armor’ to come to her rescue or not. Either way it was entertainment for my afternoon strolls.
I often stopped by the parking meter out front and watched the gorgeous femme in Sheila Vintage. Her platinum blond hair styled just like Marilyn Monroe, short and ultra sexy. I worked at a café called The Fitz on Brunswick street – café’s are a dime a dozen but I’d seen this gorgeous lady on more than one occasion; her order was unusual, like her, coffee double ristretto with honey. How could I, a barista, not notice?
It was almost time for me to head back to work; I caught my reflection in the window as the girl slowly slides down the wall to safety on two well-heeled cowboy boots.
“Damn” I mutter softly under my breath. I’d been too shy to come out from behind the coffee machine and talk with her, I didn’t even know her name, it was just … there is something about her.
Retro isn’t my style. I don’t wear it, I have no reason to go in the shop, and anyway, my dreadlocks would be a dead giveaway! You see, I’m a skater, always have been, it’s more than a mode of transport for me. I’m more at home at the Rob Roy hotel with a beer; she’s more the Burlesque Bar type.
Resignedly I turned back toward work, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a sticker on the bottom corner of the window. It was new, I was sure I hadn’t seen it there before? With blue and black horizontal stripes, the center one white, with a red heart up in the top left hand corner… I knew that flag, it was the leather pride flag! Staring for a moment too long, she caught my eye line, noticing that I’ve noticed. She saw me and winked; I quickly pull my cap down low over my eye and hurry back to work, cheeks flushed with fire.
I knew I was being watched as I adjusted the hook on the wall. That kid came by almost every day at the same time. I always walked an extra block out of my way coz The Fitz café had the best coffee I’d ever had; oh, and the bonus may have been that the kid made it.
I’d felt the spark between us the first time I ever went in there. I was running late for my first early shift at Sheila Vintage and had decided to skip breakfast at home, but coffee, well, that was my lifeblood and when you work the hours and the jobs I do, bad coffee just doesn’t cut it!
Where was I, oh yeah, the spark… So I was waiting and the kid saw me, I was focused on my caffeine hit, like an addict I didn’t notice the stare until I’d tapped my way through the line to order.
The kids focus was on me, but the coffee didn’t suffer one bit! I call that talent.
When the coffee was passed over the machine to me, I winked and was surprised to see a flush in the kids cheeks, it was so endearing. I looked closer and saw the smattering of freckles over the nose, the blue eyes, and high cheekbones. That was the beginning of my intrigue. You see, I wasn’t able to tell that day, or any of the subsequent days that I went in for my morning coffee, whether ‘the kid’ was dressing right or left, if you catch my drift?
Well, let me spell it out … I wasn’t sure of the kid’s gender… trans-male or female butch, young boi or boi-ish girl? Not that it really mattered to me, I’m not into gender binaries … hell, I’m just a Femme Fatal dropped into the wrong era!
To make matters worse, the kid never spoke loud enough for me to hear, so I didn’t have a voice to go off. The kid’s hands were smooth, and square and gentle-looking… nope, nothing there. Eventually, I guess it didn’t matter, I was smitten with the kid, and I had it bad!
Our ritual was, I’d get my morning coffee there and the kid would walk up about 3pm and stare at me through the window, never coming in. Most days I’d ignore the stare and go about what I was doing, other days, like today, I’d see the kid coming and start a window tease.
Last week I asked the boss lady if I could put a sticker in the window, the leather pride flag. You know those jobs/hours I mentioned? Well I’m also on a committee for Vic leather, and as Leather pride was coming up soon, I decided to show my colors. The boss lady was an arty-farty, hippy dyke type who bought the building for a song, back in the days when the strip was not what it is today. She converted the warehouse out the back into a living space and slips through one of the doors at the back of the shop every now and again to see how things are going. She was really supportive saying that she’d dabbled in BDSM a while back … I nodded and thought, yeah probably in the 90’s when ‘Preaching to the Perverted’ came out!
I hadn’t been in the Melbourne community long, which was why I got involved with Vic Leather, a mutual friend in my home town, dobbed me in to the current president that’s how I got on the committee! I guess my ulterior motive to putting the sticker up was to see if it would mean something to the kid.
The look on the kids face was a dead giveaway – the leather pride flag is not as well-known as say, the rainbow flag!
“Now, I have a plan…” I thought.
It was my suspicion that the kid was a boot slut, I was so glad I’d worn my hand stitched cowboy boots today. I’d head down after work, and stare the kid down top to toe, if there were any signs of Top/bottom; Dom/sub; Daddi/boi; I’d find it!
Today, the kid would be mine ….
Thoughts ran tumbling through my head, tripping over one another, as I ran down the strip.
“Shit! What have I done?! I gave it all away, but then … I was taken by surprise…leather pride flag! Could it be someone else put it there? Nah, it was her, I’m sure! She saw me… she knew… she knows.”
My Doc Martin boots stomped the sidewalk like I wanted to stomp my damn blush reflex! I stopped next to the lamp-post for three deep breaths holding the cool cast iron.
Conversation continued in my head “…Calm down, nothing has changed…”.
“Yet!” my conscience answered.
I knew it had, she would find out, but would she want a boy like me? I could only hope!
The rest of the afternoon, my thoughts wandered while I made coffees for the late afternoon crowd. Leather was the lifeblood that had kept me sane through all those years of teenage angst. I was so lucky to have met my mentor, my Sir, who took me under his wing, and trained me in service. All I ever wanted to do was punch shit out of bullies who teased me, and then I met Sir. He taught me to put my hands to good use; that the anger was better served in the cleaning of his boots, and he had LOTS of boots, lots of leather. I had served Sir well, and the belt I wore each day to work was in honour of him. It was actually a hobble belt, but no one noticed the extra rings, it was just an unusually studded black leather belt… unless you knew.
The sun started streaming in the side service window and reflected on the ice buckets stacked on the shelf above me. Lights danced around the room, and I followed them. My eyes swept across the large windows facing on to Brunswick Street, following the corner line onto Kerr Street, and there she stood! Next to the same cast iron lamp-post that I’d caught my breath at, only hours before, the one made by Edwards Lighting Engineers of Ballarat Victoria or so the inscription said. I’d sat next to that lamp-post so many times… and now, she watched me from there, I was grateful I had not worn my cuff today. She seemed to be staring intently. Looking through me, not at me…
Questions started ringing in my head, did she know? Did she care? Would she like?
I finished the process of clean down on the machine, and turned to my boss and waved goodbye. I knew I’d have to pass her. The late afternoon traffic was buzzing about; the tables and chairs outside had been packed down, the lamp now stood alone, but for the gorgeous femme leaning on it. Obviously waiting … but for what, or who? Surely, not for me? I started to walk out the door, and she watched me with such intensity, she scanned down my body, now that I was not behind the counter she could see all of me. My loose black jeans and black t-shirt gave nothing of my gender away. I had never developed breasts, I used to call them mosquito bites, and as soon as I started on ‘T’ and with the fire twirling I did, they’d turned into pecs quite well.
She stopped her scan landing on my crotch, well more accurately my belt, and then … I blushed!
Of course! She knew… and she smiled a little lopsided grin, one eyebrow raised, and reached out a hand.
‘Hi there. My name is Paula, and I know that you’ve um, been watching me from afar.’
I took her hand and firmly shook it while I looked down at her magnificent boots,
‘Hey Paula, I’m Jonny.’
‘Well, that’s wasn’t so painful now was it Jonny? Why’d you wait so long? I don’t bite… unless…well…’ She shrugged one shoulder.
She had to be one of the sexiest ladies I’d ever met and I hoped this was going to go further than a handshake and hello but I was frozen to the spot.
‘Ok, so here is what I’m thinking Jonny, I’d really like to take that belt off you and use it in a hobble tie around your upper arms tied to this lamp-post in the next 30 seconds … Failing that, how about a drink down at the Old Colonial and we can talk about other things I’d like to do with you?’
‘Um, oh, ah .. well…’ Words failed me and I wanted so badly to say yes.
‘OH dear! This is worse than I thought…I’ve left you speechless; that will never do! Ok, so repeat after me, “I’d really like to join you, Paula” …Now, your turn’
“I’d really like to join you, Paula’ I repeated with a hint of a smile, she had a great sense of humor.
‘GOOD! It’s settled, follow me.’ She grabbed my hand and took off down toward Johnston street.
‘But my skate board, hang on…’ I rushed back inside to grab it from where I hung it on the wall in the morning. That done, I didn’t know if I could take her hand again. Ah fuck it! She obviously liked me! I took her hand, and smiled with the brightest blush tainting my cheeks. She leaned over and planted a raspberry lipstick kiss on my cheek, to match the blush, and whispered, “Good boy”.
I knew I would hear those words again, and that they would have no less effect on me the next time, or the time after that, or the time after that…
Heading back to my car parked out the back of work Jonny walked beside me, skateboard under his arm. We had talked, played pool, teased and eaten; now, in the pre dawn quiet of Brunswick Street I wanted to make him mine. We were back at the corner of Kerr Street, the cast iron lamp-post, and I got this wicked idea.
I turned suddenly, placed my hand on his chest,
‘Take off that belt, boy’. The tone of my voice left no doubt that it was not a request, it was a demand!
‘Miss?’ He looked up querying me as though there was a choice.
‘Yes, boy?’ hands on hips, I waited
‘I, we … there has been no, well, we haven’t…’ He stumbled to find the right words.
‘Belt, off, now!’ It was a demand you see? Not a request!
‘Yes, Miss’. Finally he complied.
The skate board clattered as he fumbled with the buckle.
I ran my hand over his chest firm and smooth. He was only a couple of steps away from where I needed him. I leaned in close to his mouth, our lips almost touching, he took a step back, and then another. I placed my hand on top of his and slid the belt from his hands. He was backed up against the lamp-post now. I held him captive, with my eyes, my lips so close, a promise between us. I leaned in a little closer and at the last moment, as his eyes closed, I whispered in his ear,
‘Hands behind you, boy.’
‘Yes, Miss.’ His hands went behind him automatically wrists together. I slipped the belt through the metal loops, and doubled it back to create the makeshift cuffs that the hobble belt is so well designed for. Pressing my whole body against his, I leaned around him and slipped them over his fine hands, and tightened the belt in one swift movement. Leaning back, I pressed our groins harder together and watched as his neck rose in a flushed that painted his cheeks a deep purple.
‘Mmm my favourite shade, ‘humiliation purple’. Feeling vulnerable, boy?’
‘What do you want?’ I leaned in and whispered
‘Um… er, I mean anything you want, Miss.’ He recovered but I could feel the moment ebbing
‘Been a while since you submitted, boy?’
‘Yes, Miss, could you tell?’ he looked down. With one finger I lifted his chin to look at me
‘Just a little…so we’ll take it really slowly then, you call me Miss, that’s fine. You will always address me with respect. You want rules and safe words? I think in time, for now, the only rule is obey unless it’s harming you, and yellow/red are your safe words. Understood?’
‘Yes, Miss.’ He seemed satisfied with that and I felt his body breathe beneath me.
With one hand on the end of the belt keeping it tight, my other hand was free to roam. I stroked across his chest, and down toward the now loose waist band of his pants. Watching his face, his mouth gently opened, head resting back on the pole, I wanted to unleash my animal with him, his scent was so intoxicating; I could only imagine it infused with leather.
‘Breathe’, I reminded him. I wouldn’t want him to pass out on me now!
He sucked a deep breath of air and my hand came up immediately to cover his mouth and nose. His eyes flew open, wild, I could see both complete irises. His pupils dilating and contracting with fear.
‘Will you give me your breath, boy?’ I saw in his eyes a softening, the glow from the street lamp flickered, his eyes blinked, and I knew then I had him.
I whipped my hand away and covered his mouth with my lips, devouring his breath that he tried in vain to gather into his burning lungs. My hand pressed his solar plexus, making his breathing shallower still and he melted into me.
My free hand slid between us, I wanted to feel, I wanted to know… I had to! I couldn’t stop tasting him though. He was intoxicating meeting my kiss with equal fervor as though a flood gate had opened for both of us.
I leaned back, and took my own advice. Breathe.