La marionette réticents...

He sat behind tinted glass, at the controls. He was accustomed to manipulating her every move, but this was infinitely more entertaining.

Wires he affixed to her wrists, knees, and ankles...even her hair. Remotely he articulated her this way and that before the audience at the kink festival.

He had signed her up as “The Reluctant Marionette”. She whined; begging him not to make her do it. He wasn’t budging. He chose everything--music, choreography, her corseted dress, and crotchless panties. He found some argyle patterned leather boots with 8-inch stacks to keep her forced movements awkward; off balance.

He whistled along to "Puppet on a String" as he jerked her arms above her head, lifting her breasts provocatively. One gloved, delicate hand brushed over erect nipples, resting lifelessly upon her shoulder.

She glanced back through the window, sensing that he enjoyed this little performance too much. She shot him a bratty scowl, poking out her tongue...and closed her knees against the restraints. He answered her attitude by pushing more buttons; splaying her thighs wide, baring her smooth slit to the raucous crowd.

The song and humiliation drawing to an end, he puppeteered her to her feet. She wobbled as she was pulled into a deep bow; their naughty peepshow receiving a standing ovation. Blushing with embarrassment, she was relieved it was finally over.

Her heart skipped; her breath caught in her throat as she heard the dreadful word repeating in unanimous voice from the masses... “ENCORE!”

Our dear Spanky is on sabbatical, so this week we Turn the Paige. Stop by Sephani's spot and point her to your contribution for FFF #13.

Le boom...

There was a stellar explosion yesterday. Yes, yes….you know the one I mean. You must have seen the lights in the mid-southern sky as cores fused and combusted.

Only marks and memories remain now, which serve as rocket fuel for my continued slow burn for you. Sun spots left branded upon my flesh; muscles and tissues still strained and raw from your heat…these will fade. But forever are the visions that spark of you hovering over me, as a supernova detonated by desire. Frequent the flashbacks of your intense and mighty eruption; your guttural boom ever echoing in my head.

Oh, how I love the sound of it. I wallow in the ache of your heavy hand lingering on like embers beneath my skin. I savor the recollection of your fiery taste on my tongue. I bask in the warm satisfaction of stars aligning; of bodies colliding; of wishes granted.

Tonight I turn my focus to the galaxies and grin wickedly…willing; watching; waiting for the next big bang.

Venir ici le boom? Oui, oui…encore. Prêt, ou non? Oui, oui…toujours.

Look Daddy, no hands...

The two-hour presentation had only just begun, but already was boring me to tears.

It was quite cold in the conference room, probably designed to keep the group alert throughout the dreadful meeting. The blinds drawn; lights off--the only illumination was from the overhead powerpoint show.

My overactive mind had no recourse but to fade into decadent daydreams of him. Not to mention his barrage of salacious texts tempting me with his violent intent ; taunting me with his distance and intangibility. My cell buzzed every few minutes with line after line of sinful thoughts mimicking my own. I swear he can hear what I'm thinking sometimes.

Just before I became trapped in this room full of CEOs and directors, he had sent me an email. "Put the balls in ASAP." I knew what this meant. He would want to call me soon and make me cum as he listened. What a shame that I would miss it. I inserted them anyway, deciding it would be entertaining to have them inside me with no one the wiser. I almost regretted the decision as I writhed; my clit throbbing...my cunt clinching just a couple seats down from my boss.

It quickly became more than I could feasibly tolerate. His nasty messages weaved through my thoughts. The idea of him throwing me across the table in full view of my coworkers; tearing off my clothes and fucking me brutally; binding me; beating me was driving me right over the edge. I rocked and squeezed my thighs tightly around the balls, feeling my imminent release threatening.

"Pleeeease just say CUM, Daddy...before I do so without permission!!" I covertly typed the words on the phone, hoping beyond hope for the answer that followed.

"Cum, you nasty little whore!" And I did...hard. With no touch whatsoever, my pussy spasmed and flooded. I ducked my chin to my chest, praying that no one would notice the furious orgasm I was having right there in plain sight of them all. I was sure there would be a wet spot in my chair.

The CEO made a joke as we left the room that he thought I was nodding off there at the end; he had seen my head drop and started to wake me. I laughed and said he should find more interesting speakers for these events. Oh, if he only knew...

It's been a long time since I was able to cum like that without any manual stimulation. From the mere intensity of words; the power of fantasies; the recollection of realities. He was pleased that he had taken me there. The next message I received said that I should excuse myself to the restroom for a hands-on reward...with a depraved little caveat of course. Who was I to deny him?? ;)

Slipping into the ladies room, I chose a stall at the end of the row and wiggled out of my soaked panties, placing the wet crotch in my mouth. I sucked my juices from the fabric as I crushed my aching clit between anxious fingers; dipping them into my sopping sex. Stifling moans and gasps so as not to be heard, I came for him again...