Written specifically for another site's contest, whose program appears to be in
a continuing state of flux, this short (only 857 words) story is mild by
comparison to other more fictionally realized tales by this writer. Enjoy!
Dianna
Adult Fiction, M/F, Con, Mild S&M.
by Faibhar
Little had changed since the days of cheerleading and home coming queen.
Though quick-witted, Dianna, like many of her ilk, lacked self-esteem. High
Maintenance to her equaled an implicit unhappiness with one's own image.
Equipped with a similar physique and voice to the legendary entertainer, it came
as little surprise that her's was a Marilyn.Monroesque-sex kittenish sort of
thing. Clearly she dreamed on with exceptional looks and equally good genes. An
adult now, the bust line's conservative estimate of 38 D-cup dimensions outgrew
any optimistic teen's high school uniform or gown dress size, yet daily workouts
kept the 35-year old Californian trim and fit. The very latest in glamour and
fashion were coveted. Talk had been made about someday getting a breast
reduction, but that's all it had been to date: just talk. The subject too was
fashionable, occasionally sprinkled into vapid conversation.
"Hard. Bite them hard." His teeth sunk deeper into the stout nipples
biting and sucking as she commanded, and his own lust demanded. Thoughts of
those earlier years flashed by. If anything, he thought, Dianna's body had
matured splendidly with its curves, waspish waist, and dancer's legs now
clinging around his trunk. Limber as ever. She was one of the very few who
looked good with her clothes off, rather than on.
Lust and thought flash-flooded the synapses. His mind wandered to other
times, like the singular occasion of the characteristically hawk-eyed casino
crew looking up from their designated felted parcel, distracted by high-heeled
pulchritude striding by. He teased one nipple with the tip of his tongue and
thrust hips again. He felt the body underneath him writhe. Long nails scoured
his back. "Harder," she moaned. "Bite them harder..." A cry sounded. The actress
wannabe stiffened. Demonstrably kinkier than he, decided to keep on biting into
the fleshy warmth as its bulk poked upward into his mouth. She wasn't
protesting...In fact, he bit harder than before, this time using more teeth and
less tongue.
His feasting was interrupted in the nicest of ways.
Dianna squirmed from underneath. Gazing at the blond bed hair and glassy
green eyes crawling from under him, the flushed throat indicated that the
foreplay chapter was about over, leaving only the inevitable-the one about
orgasms. He lay back as she positioned herself above, sculpted thighs straddling
his, the star in some x-rated Olympics. Slowing sinking down upon the tautly
muscled shining piston her eyelids ecstatically closed. In an athletic move, no
doubt conceived during those more innocent cheerleading days and made allowable
to this day by exercise, her torso disappeared.
From where he lay all visible were the flexing quads straddling his and
the furry slit of a crown atop the head of the pumping pelvis. Out of sight, but
felt somewhere beyond, rubbed the shoulders and floral scented mane brushing
across his shins.
His arm stretched out. An index finger parted the gleaming curls, above
his own swallowed shaft. The digit stroked up and down, and then from side to
side. Another cry, this one much softer sounded at his caress.
The most intimate of juices sloshed with a hydraulic imperative.
+++
"You won't hurt me, will you?" From the sunny day room he looked down
upon the lovely Dianna as she mock-pleaded. Of course he would. And that was
exactly what both of them wished. In his right palm he held two wooden
clothespins. Selecting one, he gripped her left nipple with index and thumb.
Rolling the pinkish tower as its prominence grew, he then opened the wooden jaws
only to then close them tightly over the proffered offering.
As expected, she gasped. Her back arched up, pressing further into his
touch.
The second was then applied, much like the first. Again, Dianna's
reaction was predictable.
He raised Dianna upright, pulling her to a sitting position by the
pinned teats. Tears rolled down apple cheeks. He looked down at the black fabric
triangle he had earlier tied to its twin covering her rear. The standing female
rose to almost his 6-foot height.
Wrapping thick cloth around each of her wrists to prevent bruising, he
then attached the encircled wrists to rope hanging from the upper loft and
pulled. Long arms angled skyward. The tortured half-naked cruciform moaned. More
tears wet her countenance. Dianna managed to speak and said, "It hurts..."
"That's what you want so shut-up, or else you will be gagged."
He uncurled the leather whip. Looking once at the stretched abdomen, he
swung.
Golden hair swung across bare shoulders. Full lips bared white teeth as
her mouth gaped. An angry gasp issued. Ligaments and muscles pulled at the
constricting rope. Green eyes flashed back with a mixture of shock, pain and
anger. She glared back.
He swung the whip again, this time aiming for one of the full breasts.
The leather stung with a wallop, bouncing flesh as it hit. The clothespin held,
but now there were two long red stripes across Dianna's front. Stepping closer
to his crucified slave, he ripped away the scant fabric covering. She tried to
cross her legs in a futile attempt of modesty, though nudeness now was very
apparent. Taking the protruding ends of the clothespins, he twisted. Dianna's
head fell back in a silent cry, exposing more of her throat. Fingering between
her now parted thighs he felt familiar syrup, heated to the touch. Without
further preamble, he plunged the whip handle inside, closely followed by his own
muscled tool.
+++
That evening, his beauty knelt before him bathed only in candlelight.
Eyelids closed, hands behind her head, knees pointing outward, body well oiled,
she said, "I am your slave, Master."
Considering the good fortune to know of one so lovely and yet so
submissive, he surmised that she was indeed the kinkier of them both. It would
be his folly not to take further advantage of their relationship...
