Shiny
March 12th, 2010
She was shiny. Head to toe, black latex covered not quite every inch of flesh. High heeled stiletto shoes over form fitting latex stockings, all the way up to mid thigh, stopping just short of a short slick jacket over an even shorter little black, curve-hugging dress. He was sure that if she bent over just right, he would see shiny black panties peeping out at him. Even her hands, nervously adjusting her clothes were covered in the stuff. She caught him looking at her and brightened, his smile washing away her nerves as she beamed back at him, shining as much as her clothes.
“You look good.” He held out a hand to her.
“Thank you.” She went to him, wobbling only slightly on the unfamiliar heels, stockings swishing as she walked, and took his hand.
“Turn for me.” He lifted her hand and she spun in a slow circle, giving him full view of her outfit. “You did well.”
“Glad you like it.”
He undid the belt around her coat, and pulled it aside, pushing it down off her arms to reveal bare skin from shoulder to elbow. He kissed and nibbled her skin as it was uncovered. He paused to hang the jacket on the back of his chair he turned back to her, running his hands down her smooth sides.
“I like it very much.”
He slid one hand around the back of her neck, catching her hair tightly, pulling her against himself. Kissing her softly, he ran his other hand down her back and over her ass, enjoying the feel of her tightly encased body. Slipping his hand up the inside of her thigh, he found what he was looking for, slippery panties to match her outerwear. He teased a murmur out of her and then withdrew his hand.
He stepped back half a step, and took another look at her, fingertips running along the curves of her dress, down her thighs to the tops of the stockings. He turned her around, walking fingertips on her thighs, and then trailed them up to the top of her dress. Catching the zipper, he pulled it down, savoring the sound. Then he peeled back the dress, his mouth following his fingers, licking, nibbling and kissing the exposed flesh. He pushed it off her arms and let it fall to the floor.
Grabbing her shiny hips, he turned her back to face him, and kissed her hungrily. His hands rose to her breasts, fondling, and squeezing. Fingers found nipples and pinched, eliciting a gasp into his kiss. He kissed down her neck and chest, first to the right breast, nibbling and sucking on her hard nipple and then across to the left, devouring her flesh as gloved hands stroked his hair.
His hands slid down to her waist, hooking fingers in the top of her panties. He glanced at her eyes, dark and eager. He kissed down her belly and then started to slide her underwear down, following with soft kisses over her mound, tongue flitting out as he slid them down her thighs and calves. She stepped out of them, gloved hands now finding balance on his shoulders, and he pressed in, with fingers and tongue, finding a different kind of slickness.
She moaned softly and pressed against him, her arms and legs still covered in shiny latex. He ran his hands down her thighs and calves, enjoying the feel of her as she shivered against him. He stood up, trailing hands from latex to flesh, and down her arms to latex again.
“So delicious.”
He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, arm around his shoulders. He paused to savor the moment and then carried her to his bed, tossing her playfully down where she lay open and waiting to be fully devoured.
Journey to Submission, Part 1
December 9th, 2009
She knelt on the bearskin rug on the hearth, hands on her thighs, hair falling down around her lowered face. The fire crackled and popped, casting an orange glow over her pale skin. He stood with his hand on the mantle, watching her from behind. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, run his hands down her back. He needed to touch her, to take her, but he waited. Control. He had to be in control, but the sight of her there, naked and kneeling was driving him crazy.
She had come to him a year ago, a gift from his parents for his eighteenth birthday. A servant girl to entertain a prince. She had knelt to him then, but there had been fire in her eyes and a stubborn slant to her chin. The past year had been a journey for them both, full of joy, sorrow, excitement and conflict. All leading to this day, where she knelt willingly and submissively on the rug, waiting to serve him.
Had it really only been a year?
~~~
The hall grew quiet as King Samsen and Queen Sylvia rose from the table. Prince Jayceon returned from the dance floor to stand beside them. At a motion from the King, the guards swung open the doors, and two men entered, flanking a young woman, dressed in an iron collar attached to iron manacles, and a small leather skirt. The men in the crowd murmured and stared. The women eyed her critically. Jayceon bit his lip and looked between her and his parents as she was marched to the front of the room and shoved to her knees.
“Happy birthday, Jayceon.” The King announced. “Since you have not chosen a wife, yet, this one will take care of you until you do.”
Jayceon looked at his mother, she was smiling, but her lips were thin and she glared at the girl. He looked back at her and realized why. She was looking up at them all with undisguised fury. He took a step back and then laughed. The tension in the room broke with his grin.
“What’s your name?”
“Ciera.”
“Well met, Ciera. Thank you for coming to my birthday party, though you look decidedly unhappy to be here.”
She did not answer, nor did she drop her gaze.
“Perhaps you would be more comfortable waiting elsewhere?” He motioned to her guards who pulled her to her feet and led her back the way they had come.
“She’s a wild one, Jayceon.” The Kind confided. “You’ll enjoy her, I wager.”
“Samsen, she’ll bite his head off rather than serve him, what possessed you to pick such a girl?” The Queen hissed as the room filled with chatter again.
“You worry too much, Sylvia. Our boy can handle that small wisp of a thing.”
Jayceon was sure he could handle her, but wisp was not the word he would have used to describe her. She had perfectly round breasts the size of golden apples. Her belly was smooth and her hips rounded out in delicious curves. Her thighs were solid and her calves well muscled. Her arms were thin and her hands soft and slender. Her long black hair ran down to the small of her back and her skin was pale and creamy. No, not a wisp at all.
“Jayceon?”
“What? Oh? Sorry.” He realized that other people were offering him gifts now, and he tried to focus, smiling, and thanking them each in turn, but the girl filled his mind and he wanted nothing more than to rush back to his rooms to see her.