Categories
Poetry

What Good Luck

CONTENT WARNING: Sexually explicit content. BDSM and bondage, may be unsuitable to some readers. 18+ only.

He leans, resting his forehead 
into mine. He is unable 
to slap me; force abandons 
his hand until he’s cradling 
my face in one palm. 
His calculating look 
softens into feeling
and his words 
grow simple– 
“You’re a good girl,” and 
“I’m lucky.”


I drop under. 
In the third hotel 
I hit a threshold dose. 
It isn’t sex 
that does it, not exactly, 
but once I cum for him, 
hog-tied with his cock 
soft in my mouth 
he lifts my chin, 
he takes my gaze, 
he asks me what 
just happened. He tells me, 
in an instant, I have changed. 

Thank you to Wayne Crest for the photo and the inspiration. ❤️ 

Categories
Fiction

The Walk to Water (Part 2)

CONTENT WARNING: Sexually explicit, 18+. All characters are consenting adults.

For the next few miles, Arley persists in her efforts while XianSheng persists in his stoic non-attention to her work. He’s fully hard now but silent as ever, the hand at her neck moving in a constant rhythm. With the radio off, the rush of tires on road consumes her awareness. She slips into a state like meditation, her bobbing neck, her tugging lips, all of it falling away until there is only breathing. Arley’s sense of her own being collapses until she is nothing but a nose, two lungs, and subservient desire.

Then the hand at her neck departs. Takes the wheel. She doesn’t falter. The rhythm of his gentle touch is in her now, and she barely notices its subtraction. That is, until his left hand leaves the wheel, takes her by the nose, and squeezes. 

Robbed of her steadying breath, Arley begins to gasp around her XianSheng’s cock. As she struggles to inhale, he releases her nose and takes her instead by the back of the head, shoving her down until he fills her throat, stoppering her breath. Then he returns to her nose, sealing it from the air. 

With only one free hand he isn’t strong enough to hold her down by force and keep her nose pinched at the same time. But Arley is a good girl. She knows what he wants and, though his right hand isn’t there to trap her, she pretends. She holds her head still, flexing her shoulders as if she were struggling against him. Seconds tick. The panic sensation sets in, but still she holds. Her next breath will be his to allow, whenever he so chooses. 

And XianSheng is merciful. Just as Arley’s eyeballs start to pop, he lets go. 

Air rushes into her chest in a gigantic heave. But before she has a chance to exhale, he is pulling her back down by the nose. Sealed shut again, this time with her lungs at full expansion, Arley’s vision swims. The air grows stale inside her and her blood bubbles with excess carbon. 

Arley got herself into this. And he won’t let her out of it easily. Her mandate, now, is to trust him enough to continue to obey the direction of his hands. She must trust that he knows where her limits lie. That he will draw her to the edge and still protect her, relenting exactly at the line between challenging and dangerous. 

It goes on, and he never makes a sound. Arley grows woozier with every passing round. The intervals of holding shorten, the reprieves of open nose and throat grow longer, but still, her desperation mounts, as does her determination to prevail. 

Traffic slows to a near-stop once the highway is behind them. The brutal hand leaves her nose and doesn’t return. Arley hovers, gasping for breath with his foreskin resting between her open lips. Then fingers arrive at the front of her throat and push her up, away from his lap.

“Enough. Sit up.”

She obeys, shrinking back into her seat. Coldness in his voice plunges her into meek embarrassment. Both of his hands are back on the wheel now, his pants still open. She watches him wilt as her normal pace of breathing gradually returns.

Trying to relax, Arley takes in the change in the landscape. The congestion of the city at peak morning commute has given way to tree-lined streets, the rows of townhouses to the left of her boasting wide green swaths of lawn. She remembers just how much she’s been looking forward to spending this day outside the city. Absently, she brings a hand to the front of her neck, massaging it as she registers her relief at having her mouth and throat to herself again. 

Then XianSheng speaks. 

“Did I tell you to suck my cock? Or did you just take it for yourself like a greedy little whore?” His eyes focus straight ahead as he speaks, just as they have throughout her half-hour ordeal. 

“No, Sir, you didn’t,” she stammers. “Yes, Sir. I did. I…”

He holds up a hand, silencing her apology. 

“You know better. I think you choose to misbehave because you want to be punished.”

With those words, he spares a glance in her direction. His look is soft with affection, and her brain is soft with oxygen depletion. For a moment, she’s in love with him.

Then he reaches behind her seat and pulls out a one-liter water bottle, full to the top. He drops it on her thighs as he makes the turn onto Valley Green, forest now surrounding them on all sides. 

“You have one minute. Drink it all.”