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The Restless Libido @restlesslibido

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By day I'm a mild-mannered reporter for a major metropolitan newspaper who pays his taxes and helps his landlady carry out her trash. This blog covers the rest of the time. - The Restless Libido (@restlesslibido)
The streak of cruelty was always there in her @restlesslibido

The streak of cruelty was always there in her, lying just below the surface.

Once when we were kissing she bit my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and I never forgot the breathless look that painted her face afterward. 

I am panting hard enough to see stars, my throat cracked and dry from pleading, begging her to let me cum, to free my hands, to kill me, anything but more slow, deliberate stroking and the well-timed application of pressure around my cock.

I cultured that cruelty, encouraged it. I bear some of the blame for what she’s become.

Artoflatex black is back by samrambo1 january 7 @restlesslibido


Black is Back by SamRambo1
January 7, 2015 at 07:37AM

She’s here to train me.

It was my girlfriend’s idea, a trainer. She knew that maintaining an exercise regimen is difficult without encouragement, without guidance or structure.

So for the task she found a taller, kick-boxing doppelgänger of herself, with hair so close in shade I thought when we first met that she’d had her color it specifically to match.

She laid the plan out at their first meeting, the goals and measures of success, the unusual methods that might be pressed into service to achieve them, the generous compensation she would offer, adjusted to suit the circumstances, extracted from my own wallet. 

The trainer accepted the offer immediately, adding that a uniform was key.

My girlfriend agreed, said she knew just the thing to get my attention.

I am awash in confusion when my girlfriend hands me the card, an address, date, and time written on one side, a series of numbers – locker number and combination, as I learn – on the back. 

It all becomes clear to me soon enough. She sees to that.

He is done with her for now he stands up and @restlesslibido

He is done with her, for now.

He stands up and tucks his cock back into his pants. She collapses forward onto the couch cushions, bracing herself, his filth slides still hot against the back of her thigh.

He collects the video camera from me where I sit opposite.

He may be done with her for now, but he’s still far from done with us.

Shes not even paying attention to me were about @restlesslibido

She’s not even paying attention to me.

We’re about halfway through the movie and I can tell by how regular and steady her strokes have become that she’s deeply engrossed.

She chose the movie. She’d been wanting to see it for a while, in the theater, but I kept dragging my feet and making excuses not to. But she kept asking, until she overheard me telling a friend I’d managed to get out of seeing her chick flick drivel yet again. She never mentioned it after that, until it came out online.

I was over at her place and I suggested we watch a movie. Without a word she cued it up, then immediately unfastened my pants and sucked my cock until I was hard. 

This is how it’s going to be, she said, sitting back up and settling into a steady stroke. 

We’re going to watch this movie, she said. And if you keep your mouth shut and sit through the whole thing like a good boy, maybe you’ll get to cum at the end.

Maybe? I asked.

Provided you can answer a few questions afterward, she said, I’ll definitely let you cum.

And if not? I asked.

Her expression needed no words to clarify.

So here I sit, with her slowly stroking my cock, keeping me right on the edge, occasionally leaving over to wrap her lips around me and suck, while I do my best to ignore her and absorb every character name and car color and soundtrack song that streams by.

It all started off innocently enough she tells @restlesslibido

It all started off innocently enough, she tells me, when she finally tells me. 

Her, sleepless at 3am, searching online for ways to turn off her brain, and happening across a forum geared toward enthusiasts of a particular skill. She’d been drawn in by a photograph – a handsome face in black and white, except for a pair of piercing blue eyes – and she was reading the profile below it when a chat window had appeared.

She stared at the blinking cursor for a moment, listening to me snoring from the next room, before replying to his greeting.

They struck up a dialogue, her asking frank questions about his craft and him answering with equal honestly, until the night had begin to fade into morning and, with great reluctance, she signed off.

The following night she curled up on the couch with her laptop instead of crawling into bed, saying something about doing a little work. She busied herself until my breathing became regular, then she opened a chat window, savoring the illicit thrill when he came online to greet her.

He never pushed me to do it, she tells me, as though this would reassure me. She was curious, she says. She wanted to try it. And so she did.

Just words on the screen, telling her that she was getting sleepy, telling her to relax. She did as she was told, replying when instructed, skeptical but open, willing it to be so but doubting. It was all innocent enough, she told herself, so there was no reason for her to tell me. 

He was thorough and calm and patient and attentive. The words kept appearing and she kept replying, until she caught herself actually getting sleepy, until when he told her she was feeling warm she actually felt it.

The next night and the next night and the next the thrill was the same when his status dot turned from gray to green and his words began to appear. His words calmed her. His words helped her to relax. 

She became an open book to him, his curiosity a narcotic. He asked and she answered eagerly and without hesitation: her name, her phone number, that she had a boyfriend, my name, my phone number.

He asked her what I liked in bed, my fetishes, what I’d always wanted her to do for me but she’d never done, and the answers flowed out of her as quickly as she could type them.

And when he had enough, when he has everything he needs, his questions became instructions, clear and precise and she followed them unwaveringly, forgetting everything, remembering nothing but a particularly deep and relaxing sleep.

She’s home when the package arrives. It’s addressed to her, from an online retailer she doesn’t recognize. What’s inside is a complete outfit – white mesh camisole, black leather bra, black vinyl pants, silver kitten heels, even a bottle of dark nail polish and slim glass sample of unfamiliar perfume – none of it anything she would ever in a million years consent to wear and yet all of it sized perfectly to fit her. All of it is a mystery until she finds the receipt and reads the trigger phrase entered there and then everything changes.

Her lids lower and her breathing slows and her hands loosen and unfasten the clothing from her body. She showers and daubs her skin with the scent he has chosen, painting her fingernail and toes, dressing in her uniform, arranging herself to wait for me to arrive home.

When I’ve closed the door behind me she’s on her knees, the vinyl stretching over her thighs, her hands freeing my cock from my pants and taking me into her mouth, sucking me hard. 

And when she knows she has my attention she begins to speak his words, telling me how she first encountered him, how he enslaved her, and the terrible leverage and methods of coercion he has at his disposal to ensure my obedience.

My phone rings, with a number I don’t recognize. 

I would answer it, she says, before opening her mouth to my cock and beginning to suck again.

He lifts the chain and the pain is so intense she @restlesslibido

He lifts the chain and the pain is so intense she thinks for a brief moment she’s actually going to cry.

Tears well up in the corners of her eyes and her breath catches, ragged, in her throat.

He sees and places a reassuring hand flat against her ribcage.

Do you want me to stop? he asks. It’s okay if you want to stop.

She knows what she wants, his cock hard for her, his eyes watching her, his arms around her at night, his hands on her body, bringing her out of sleep in the morning. She wants to fuck him so badly it hurts nearly as much as the clamps locked onto her nipples.

No, she manages to whisper.

I want to suffer for you, she wants to say but she just breathes and moans instead and clenches her thighs together.

They keep insisting theyre straight right up @restlesslibido

They keep insisting they’re straight, right up until the drug hits their bloodstream.

Half an hour on the nose. Reason enough to use the name brand, as opposed to knockoff street garbage.

Thirty-one minutes in and they fall into one another, as much as the ropes binding their hands behind them permit, mouths open, no longer “straight” or men or any label, as much as lust manifested.

I keep apart for a moment or two, enjoying their frustration, before I put the record button and release their bonds.

When she gets word theyve finally have him she @restlesslibido

When she gets word they’ve finally have him, she gets herself there as quickly as she can.

She vowed, the last time she saw him, personally to put the chains on him. She intended to keep that promise.

They have him cornered, not caged, as instructed. She strides out of the transport, slips the gold instrument onto her right hand, and tells the cameras to get ready.

Its amazing what a man will do if he thinks at @restlesslibido

It’s amazing what a man will do if he thinks, at the end of all of it, he’s going to get his dick sucked.

It’s depressing, really, how quickly common sense evaporates, the lengths he’s willing go to in order to contextualize a situation.

Like some green-eyed knockout in a bikini and combat boots who he just happens to encounter out in the middle of nowhere, with a story about a car she needs a hand getting started.

There’s a painful truth waiting for him.

But let’s leave him the fantasy for now.

Shes new she hasnt even earned a collar of her @restlesslibido

She’s new.

She hasn’t even earned a collar of her own yet, still wearing the crude length of chain locked around her neck from when she was sold.

Her trainer’s collar is well-worn and soft from years of use.

She will show her the ropes.

The moment he sees the armband he knows whats @restlesslibido

The moment he sees the armband he knows what’s coming.

He’s just closed the door behind him and returned her apartment to darkness when she steps forward, into a shaft of candlelight, and he sees it glinting from around her arm.

It is ancient, from Amazonian antiquity, a conqueror’s armband.

She’s removed her uniform, replacing it with black stiletto boots, elbow-length leather gloves, and a supple leather belt from which hang implements of cruel wickedness. 

The door locks remotely from behind him. And then he feels it, the melting away of his superior strength and speed, that unmistakeable draining of power caused by only one thing.

His knees buckle and he drops into a kneel before her right as she brings it out around from behind her, a thick shaft that glows a dull green. 

She sets the phallus down into the center of a low bench. In the candlelight he can just make out chains and manacles, a length of coarse rope, a dangling metal collar. And beyond, a video camera.

She snaps her fingers and although she says nothing, he knows what she wants. He knows what he must do to secure his freedom again. Eyes lowered his fingers find the tiny zipper at the neck of his uniform and pull.

It was all his idea he chose the cage for @restlesslibido

It was all his idea.

He chose the cage for himself, intentionally selecting one that was a size smaller than would fit. 

He wanted it to hurt.

He would find out only later that she didn’t buy the lock herself. She said she would, said that she had when handed it to him. He had no reason to think otherwise.

Nor did he ask to see the key before he closed the lock.

She lay beneath him, naked and wet and ready for him, but there he was, imprisoned, caged, contained, impotent.

That’s when he asked to see the key.

That’s when she told him she hadn’t bought the lock herself.

That’s when he heard the sound of a key at the door, the door to his girlfriend’s apartment, where she lived alone.

That’s when he found out who had the key, and who, truly, he belonged to now.

She pleads quietly no please no not the chain as @restlesslibido

She pleads, quietly, no please no not the chain as I reach between her thighs and bring the cold metal links forward.

I press a finger into her pussy, hot and wet, then draw it up, guiding the chain between her lips as I spread them.

The loop at the top just reached the other loops, already there. She pleads again, a whisper please no before I lock the loops together.

I slide a finger behind the chain and tighten ever so slightly, compelling her to follow me. 

Shes nervous its her first time out as the new @restlesslibido

She’s nervous.

It’s her first time out as the new her.

My mouth hangs open for a moment, after I’ve invited her in and taken her jacket, after I’ve noticed she’s dressed quite a bit differently than her usual style. I pull it together enough to stammer a compliment. She blushes and plays it off – what, this old thing? – but I can tell she’s pleased.

It feels different on her when she’s in front of me, the outfit she bought for me, to wear for me, to please me. It felt exciting to slide herself into it in the dressing room, then again at home, in the darkness of her bedroom, and again when she stepped out of her apartment and locked the door behind her.

The pants cost nearly as much as she spends a month in rent.

But as she watches my eyes travel the length of her, as I struggle to string together a sentence, she decides they were worth it.

For so long he ignored her played off her @restlesslibido

For so long he ignored her, played off her flirtations as meaningless. He toyed with her, indulged his cruelty by taunting her, called her “friend” and “buddy” and “pal”.

And she endured, ever hopeful. Until he finally managed to burn off all of her thwarted love, leaving only malice and patience and a gnawing need for revenge.

And now here he is, in her soundproofed basement, strung up by his wrists, his balls tightly gripped in her painted nails. She has changed from her mousy sweater set and skirt into a mesh bodysuit and boots, a corset studded with tiny but wicked spikes cinched around her waist.

He ties to will himself away, to make it all different but the time for that has passed. Now it’s her time, to do with as she wishes.

Now the best he can hope for it just to survive.

Theyre waiting for me outside the hotel his @restlesslibido

They’re waiting for me outside the hotel, his perfumed minions in their shiny pants.

I’d only that day decided to leave through the loading dock in order to avoid an ambush but, as usual, he’s one step ahead of me and there they are, posed amid the dumpsters in their glossy heels and blonde hair, the same blank look in their eyes, cooing invitations to me the moment I appear.

I ignore them and try to push past, to the car that’s waiting, but they interlock their bangled arms and ensnare me, tightening, pressing their firm bodies in around me, coiling their legs around my own, until all I can feel is leather stretched tight across asses and I can’t take a single step forward.

There’s the sharp sting of a needle in my thigh and then their perfume overwhelms me. I am led to a car, different from my own, His car, and ushered into the backseat, straps sliding in out of the darkness to hold me fast, their bodies squirming in on top of me, their mouths finding mine as I am consumed.

He guides her tiny frame down onto his massive @restlesslibido

He guides her tiny frame down onto his massive shaft, steading her as her knees shake and she pants and moans.

It takes 20 minutes of slow sliding until she’s finally down on his lap, his cock deeply and entirely inside of her. He locks his arms around her, one last thrust, to widen and stretch her that much more, to reshape her for his size, his use, his pleasure.

Im the one who first introduced her to it who @restlesslibido

I’m the one who first introduced her to it, who imbued the tiny metal key with all the power I had and, trembling, placed it in her hands.

From that first moment she was hooked. But that feeling made her want to fuck and she couldn’t do that with my cock locked up.

So there had to be others.

A key around her ankle. Just jewelry, to most. To a few, notice of services offered. 

They approach cautiously, keeping their eyes on her but lowered. She will usually say nothing, enjoying the cruelty of letting them squirm, making them explain themselves.

Their key goes onto the small ring she keeps in her purse, just one of a number.

She’s never given one back, nor ever freed anyone.

She will hold that cluster in one hand while touching herself with the other, alone in the bathroom later that night, before climbing back into bed and waking me up to fuck her.

Even though he isnt here he needs to be a part @restlesslibido

Even though he isn’t here, he needs to be a part of it. 

So when she calls from the dressing room that she thinks she might have found the one she wants, I don’t go look for myself.

I have her text him a photo, so he can see the one she’s picked out.

I want to remind him that his wife is out shopping for a swimsuit with another man, a man who has booked them a flight to the Bahamas for the weekend, reserved them a suite overlooking the ocean, that she and this man will laugh and swim together, she in her new suit, and drink and eat grilled fish, then fuck on the beach and again back at the hotel, in the hot tub, and again on the bed in the morning after room service has been delivered and consumed.

She calls my name from the dressing room, tapping a credit card against the top of the door. He’s made his choice; now he’s going to pay for it.

Its like a door the long silver zipper that @restlesslibido

It’s like a door, the long, silver zipper that runs down the front of this particular dress.

She chose the dress herself, to suit a particular mood in which she occasionally found herself, selected it from the wealth of possibilities, because it was shiny and ink-black and skintight, and because of the long, silver zipper that runs down the front.

He knows the significance too. He’s learned it the hard way several times now. She slides her arms through the halter straps, she’s still there, listening, in case he needs to tell her anything before they get started.

She pulls the PVC snug around her otherwise naked body and fits the zipper ends together, he can still tell her he loves her, if he needed to, and she’ll listen.

The moment that zipper’s in place, she’s no longer her. His her is no longer there. Now she’s her own Her, who has no interest in hearing anything from him that she doesn’t beat out of him or force him to confess.

He keeps his eyes on that door to her as it closes, then holds them there, knowing she’s just on the other side.

He thought that because he was larger than most @restlesslibido

He thought that because he was larger than most they wouldn’t be able to harness him.

But they were able to accommodate all shapes and sizes.

That said, he had succeeded in getting himself noticed.

They changed his cage every other day, icing his cock until they could fit it into the next size down each time, until at last he was the same size as all the rest.

She dances for him the big bull in the front row @restlesslibido

She dances for him, the big bull in the front row, winks at him and shakes her little ass.

She taunts him, knowing she is safe from repercussion. She made sure of that last night, daring him to ice his massive cock down, until he could slide it into the wicked metal cage she gave him. Such a small click the lock made as he fastened it, having never even asked about the key.

She sings to him, to him and his aching balls and what remains of his enormous, dominating cock, now so impotently harnessed in stainless steel. He will serve her, how, she doesn’t even know yet.

But it makes her smile to consider the possibilities.

She always whispers when she has me this way her @restlesslibido

She always whispers, when she has me this way.

Her voice is small and quiet and but unwaivering as she guides her cock to my ass then pushes inside.

Both of her hands on my hips, a rhythm forming between us, her thrusting and me yielding.

My own hands brace against the wall. My own cock is rock-hard but untouched.

Just let it happen, she whispers into the back of my neck, you’re doing so well.

It comes away so cleanly his cum off the rubber @restlesslibido

It comes away so cleanly, his cum, off the rubber of her suit.

I kneel behind her and focus on the strokes of my tongue, ignoring his quieting grunts of pleasure from over my shoulder.

I clean her, the outside now but all of her later, drawing his filth from her skin and swallowing it inside me. 

I lick the rubber, stretched tightly over her flesh, until it is smooth again and clear and clean.

I will lead her by the hand to the candle lit @restlesslibido

I will lead her by the hand to the candle-lit bathroom and inside, closing the door behind us, then turning her around to face the board mirror over the sink, and pull her skirt up to her waist, her panties down below her knees.

She will step out of them before I kick her feet apart and enter her.

Our breath will fog the mirror.

After, we will separate and make ourselves presentable, me tucking in and zipping up, her tugging the leather back down over her hips. We will find our way back to where our friends are sitting.

She will have to excuse herself, when she feels my cum draining out of her and onto the inside of her skirt, to bring herself off again, licking her fingers clean.

He doesnt care why shes doing it why shes @restlesslibido

He doesn’t care why she’s doing it, why she’s letting him fuck her.

It doesn’t matter that she’s repulsed by him, by his gut and bald head, the gray hair around his temples and in his beard.

It doesn’t matter that this is how she punishes herself, how her self-loathing manifests itself, by inviting his crass hands to grope her soft flesh, bruising it as he clutches, as he thrusts himself inside her and pumps.

He doesn’t give a second thought to anything beyond her tight pussy and how she holds herself open for him.

He doesn’t care what her name is or what turns her on. All he wants is to fuck her and then for her to leave. 

All of which turns her on more.

The moment she saw the blurry cell phone photo @restlesslibido

The moment she saw the blurry cell phone photo, snapped furtively from the sidewalk outside the playground, the fight was out of her.

She made them promise to stay away, and they agreed.

As long as she did what they wanted.

She nodded, beaten.

She unfastened her dress, folded it, and placed it on the chair in the dressing room. She left her thong on, as instructed.

She put up her hair before fitting the ballgag to her mouth, buckling it tightly behind her head. She clicked the handcuffs closed around one wrist, then brought her hands behind her back and locked the other side on.

He would be there shortly. 

Shes impatient she alternates between checking @restlesslibido

She’s impatient. She alternates between checking her watch and pulling the curtain back to peer down at the street below.

It’s her birthday. She told me a week ago that this year she wanted to do something a little different, that she didn’t want me to get her anything or plan any surprise, that she was going to get herself something she really, really wanted, something she wanted more than anything else. 

I was awoken this morning by the feeling of her lips on my cock, sucking me into consciousness. At my first moan, she stopped abruptly, sat up in bed, and began reeling off Things That Needed to Happen.

Brunch at her favorite spot. A digestive stroll around the park, then back to the apartment for a long, hot bath and a nap. We need to be ready at 5pm, she said, promptly.

It is three minutes past the hour. She leans out the window to look up the street and I steal a glimpse of her long legs, glistening with moisturizer. I shaved them for her in the bath, at her request. I’ve changed into a linen suit, also by request. She’s wearing her leather biker jacket over a silk camisole, paired with a pair of silver ankle boots and a matching leather miniskirt that hugs her hips, something she bought specifically for the occasion. 

She lets out a squeal, grabs her clutch, and ushers me out and down the stairs.

There is a sports coupe finished in matte black purring by the curb, a handsome, muscular man in a tight black t-shirt behind the wheel. She waves, then heads around the passenger-side door and holds it open for me. Once I’m seated she slides herself in on my lap and pulls the door shut.

He holds out his hand and introduces himself. His grip is strong and my hand comes away smelling of his cologne. 

So this is him, huh? he asks her. She nods eagerly. 

Does he know yet? he asks. She smiles and shakes her head. She leans back.

He’s going to breed you baby, she says. 

He looks so confused, he says with a laugh. He pulls out and accelerates down a side street. 

Your girlfriend wants to watch me fuck you in the ass, he says, and cum inside of you.

She presses her ass into my lap, against my hardening cock.

I think he’s open the idea, she says and kisses my cheek.

He reaches over and brings my hand back to his lap, placing it against the outline of his hard cock, straining under his leather pants. I rub my hand along his length tentatively and he gives a low grunt of pleasure.

I think so too, he says and smiles. 

She swears under her breath she knows the rules @restlesslibido

She swears under her breath. She knows the rules on flinching.

I know it’s involuntary, a reaction to the sharp sting I’ve inflicted on her tender flesh.

But rules are all that separates us from the animals.

We are about to go out for the day were fresh @restlesslibido

We are about to go out for the day.

We’re fresh out of bed, hunger having roused us from under the covers, from the warmth of each other’s flesh.

She dresses, reluctantly, while I brush my teeth.

She wants to make sure I remember, so she waits until I’m done and out of the bathroom and looking and then she reminds me, then she shows me everything I’m giving up for diner eggs and coffee.

She tugs her skirt down and picks up her purse impatiently.

Ready? she asks.

She has no idea what she can do with that body of @restlesslibido

She has no idea what she can do with that body of hers.

She doesn’t yet have the slightest clue of what she could make me do, how she could command me, by just arching her back and asking, of letting the sides of her shirt fall away and dreaming big.

She doesn’t know, but she’s learning fast.

This is the way it is now who they were before is @restlesslibido

This is the way it is now.

Who they were before is irrelevant. What they were to each other, the intimacies they shared, no longer matter.

They both wear a collar; that’s important. They both wear His collar. They both belong to Him now. That’s all that matters.

And He’s decided How Things Are Now between them. 

Her eyes used to be so familiar. They look down at him, a stranger’s eyes now.

She stretches and cavorts watching his eyes watch @restlesslibido

She stretches and cavorts, watching his eyes watch her.

The rubber, taunt over her body, squeaks with each motion. She’s aware of the effect she’s having but she’s not doing it for him.

There is no end result on which she has designs.

She is exploring, testing limitations, as much with his mind as with her own flexibility.

She works at the museum i have work that brings @restlesslibido

She works at the museum.

I have work that brings me there and she is assigned to make sure I get everything I need.

We are all business until our business is concluded and then she puts a hand on my arm, blinks her green eyes, and suggests that she show me around the museum sometime, give me a tour behind the scenes, perhaps Tuesday of the following week, say, at 7pm when she’s done for the day.

She has long legs and selects a dress to show them off, playful and fun but short. She tugs stockings over her knees, to guide my eyes to her thighs, to plant the question in my mind of what, if anything, she’s wearing underneath. 

She wants me wondering this as she walks me past marble statues, trailing the faintest whiff of her perfume, mixing with the smell of antiquity.

We laugh together, louder than we should, but there’s hardly anyone there.

She chooses the Egyptian temple to make her move, to lean back against the stone and pull me to her, to spread her legs around my knee, to find my mouth with hers and taste me.

The bartender placed another round in front of @restlesslibido

The bartender placed another round in front of each of them, then pointed down the bar.

They seemed so nice, the two handsome men sitting there, who smiled with kind eyes and offered a modest wave.

It seemed only right to invite them over.

Two hours later and fancy dresses lie torn into strips on the hotel room floor.

Each man claims one of them for his own. 

They endure, needing it, to be fucked in the ass, to be claimed by one stronger and more powerful than themselves.

Pink is trying to hide it the pain shes @restlesslibido

Pink is trying to hide it, the pain she’s enduring, to keep it secreted inside her, deny Black the pleasure of watching her suffer.

Her tormentor is no amateur; she’s very well-acquainted with this gambit.

Unfortunately for Pink, Black has time on her side, in addition to ropes and hooks and wicked little clamps, time and the patience to let it pass.

Black gives the chain hanging from Pink’s nipples a pull, drinking in Pink’s expression, savoring it like expensive liqueur, served in a tiny glass.

They smell like perfume the manacles around her @restlesslibido

They smell like perfume, the manacles around her wrists, the collar around her neck, the chain linking them all together.

It’s not one she wears but she recognizes it, she knows its name.

The one before her, her skin glistening with perspiration, pulse racing, filling the air with the scent as she awaited her fate. Just like she does now.

Will the one that comes next sense any sign of her, be reminded she’s just one of a number, a single link in a chain?

Her shirt goes down just below the curve of her @restlesslibido

Her shirt goes down just below the curve of her ass.

She knew it would have to the moment she decided to buy the pants.

In the changing room, looking at her reflection back over her shoulder, sliding her hand up the rear of her thighs until she first felt its bottom hem.

She knows how badly I want to see.

She knows how important it is not to let me.

Yes she is afraid of what he will do to her he @restlesslibido

Yes, she is afraid of what he will do to her.

He is large and powerful and has wicked wants and a particular look in his eyes.

But her real fear – the one that chills her very core – is that he won’t go far enough, as far as she deserves.

When i first hear the rumor i refuse to believe @restlesslibido

When I first hear the rumor I refuse to believe it, until I see her being carried, unconscious, through the compound, and then I know it’s true.

Manacles are locked around her ankles and wrists, connected with heavy chain to a collar around her neck. I can see red lines to either side of the collar. Clearly they must have gotten the jump on her and choked her out.

The two who carry her give silence evidence of a struggle: ripped uniform, scarlet scratches down both of their faces, the first early signs of a rapidly-yellowing black eye.

Good for you, I think, before the guard brings her whip down across my back and shouts for me to get back to work.

The nipple clamps are too much her mouth was @restlesslibido

The nipple clamps are too much.

Her mouth was sealed to him, the red head of his cock poised, smearing precum across her pursed lips, but she’d held firm, eyes flashing back up at him defiantly.

Until he reached down, hooking with a finger the delicate chain connecting the clamps fastened to her nipples. He lifted the chain, bringing it inexorable up, twisting the clamps agonizingly, until she opened her mouth to scream in agony.

He sank his cock inside her, loosening his grip, and resigned, she brought her lips together to suck.

She affixes the last button then steps back to @restlesslibido

She affixes the last button, then steps back to have a look at herself in the mirror.

Her nipples are nearly colorless through the mesh, two faint circles of shadow pressing outward.

Below, a simple skirt, black tights, and low heels. She tucks the blouse into her skirt, then slides her arms into the sleeves of a plain black blazer. The lapels hang just so – I made sure of that – and suddenly it seems like just another blouse, tan with dark contrasting trim, perfectly ordinary, entirely suitable for a day in the office.

The sliding fabric brushes over her nipples, hardening them, keeping them hard, reminding her, in every moment of movement, of the particular predicament in which she has chosen to place herself.

She checks the clock; plenty of time to get to work.

Somewhere else, out in the world, I read the package tracking email then close my laptop and take a sip of my coffee.

A whole new day ahead of her. Her first of many.

He trusts her so he lets her decide a bold @restlesslibido

He trusts her, so he lets her decide.

A bold choice, I think to myself, but then again, I know more of the situation than he.

She pauses, the lock poised over the hot pink plastic cage. Her mouth is still sticky from his cum; he’s sleepy and so perhaps less concerned than he should be. 

No matter.

She looks to me, then back down. She fumbles with the lock but manages to get the hash seated and pushed in, a modest click the only indication of her decision.

She leans back and he stirs, his hands instinctively going to his cock, to the crude plastic bars compressing it.

So when does this come off? he asks to no one in particular.

I smile. She looks down.

She wants him she wants to submerge him in @restlesslibido

She wants him.

She wants to submerge him in distractions, temptations of every imaginable variety vying for his attention and for him to remain focused solely on her.

She wants him under her spell, to have a spell and for him to be under it.

She wants him enthralled.

It’s not that he’s some prize, valued above all others. It’s that she’s decided she wants him, and having him matters more to her now, in her moment of want, than even he does.

He belongs to her, already, without him even knowing it. Her deciding this makes it so, and she wants it known, completely, utterly, loudly and publicly.

She starves herself, needing him, until she can slide herself into the narrow shiny sheath she bought for this specific purpose. She shows up at the club where she knows he’ll be, on the night she knows he’ll be there, circling, watching, waiting, until her moment arrives and she pounces.

His friends at the bar, waiting for drinks, he finding his way alone downstairs, heading toward the bathroom.

She poses herself against the wall, around the corner he’ll turn in a moment. Other faces seek reflection in her own; she ignores them all, wills them a thousand miles away, anywhere but here.

When he sees her she turns, slowly, as though in slow motion, silent, until she is facing away. She arches her back for him, the taunt hem of her rubber dress inching artfully up the top of her thighs. She looks back, over her shoulder, deep into his eyes, his jaw hanging down.

The music pulses around them, bodies swirling among each other through the fog and flashing lights, but suddenly they are the only two people there.

He is a raging beast breathing hard spittle @restlesslibido

He is a raging beast, breathing hard, spittle white at the corners of his mouth, his cock purple and hot to the touch.

She is prey to him. He can smell her sex, the wet welcoming inside of her, and his eyes flash red with lust and animal need.

She stays him with a gentle touch to the chest. Not yet, she whispers, and then there is something calming and cool against his skin.

He means to snap his teeth at her, to lunge and bite, when something comes over him, stills his anxious muscles, fixes him to the seat beneath him.

A string of pearls, looped around his flesh, loosely held in her hand. He squirms and struggles and fights but he is held fast by her power.

Her other hand appears, bearing a wicked implement.

There’s a good boy, she says, as she brings it to bear on him. It’ll all be over soon.

She tugs the zipper down and the front of her @restlesslibido

She tugs the zipper down and the front of her dress falls open.

One shoulder, then the other, and it slides off her body, collapsing into a modest pile on the carpet. She shifts her weight to one leg and the leather of her boots creak in the silence.

He is trying to slow his breathing, she can tell. Good, she thinks. Let him.

Demurely, she places one foot in front of the other, bringing herself between his legs, directly in front of him. With the heels she towers over him. He swallows dryly. She tightens her cheeks to keep them flat.

One hand on the cushion over his shoulder and she leans in, turning her body slowly, slowly, bending her knee, the muscles tensing in her fleshly-shaved thighs, before she sets herself down on his lap.

When i walk into the kitchen she looks up from @restlesslibido

When I walk into the kitchen, she looks up from the dough she’s rolling out and smiles brightly.

The room is filled with delicious smells and Sammy Davis Jr. singing “That Old Black Magic” loudly enough to rattle the bottles on top of the fridge.

This is who she is, to me, to herself, to the world.

Who she was last night is who she is too. Two very different blossoms, both blooming from the same vine.

The day her with her hair up and confectioner’s sugar on her cheek, spinning giddy in the sunlight that streams in through the windows.

The night her, slid into black leather and chrome, dark lips and dark eyes, quiet but dangerous and sharp.

There is no “real her”.

They are both the “real her”.

Its all play at first kissing hands on skin @restlesslibido

It’s all play, at first.

Kissing, hands on skin, and then the conspiratorial whisper from his lips into his neck: Want to try something?

The leather binder soft, sliding up and into place as though this was not the first time. His hand careful with the straps, tightening them gently, then tighter, like a tease. His stubble against his cheek: More?

He’s feeling emboldened so he nods. 

The gag is a surprise, not unpleasant but not pleasant either, sealing his mouth away from kisses and tongues, locking it away. He’s disappointed, briefly.

Hands on his nipple, tweaking, pinching, tighter tighter tighter until he moans, muffled, into the leather.

The other smiles. There is a lot of daylight to go.

She plays it up how much smaller she is than him @restlesslibido

She plays it up, how much smaller she is than him, how much softer and seemingly more fragile.

She presents herself to him in virginal white lace, with her fine blonde hair braided and pinned back on her head.

She kneels before him, out of deference, in tribute to his clear superiority. She takes him into her mouth in the same way, shy but without reservation. When he comes she swallows gratefully, her eyes never leaving his.

Its a prison she knows she knew it the first @restlesslibido

It’s a prison, she knows.

She knew it the first time he placed the chain around her neck, beautiful chain admittedly, silver from Tiffany’s, but a chain no less, like any chain, placed around a possession.

He dresses her in silks and lace, hand-stitched in Italy, tailored to fit like a dream. A uniform by any other name.

Her number, in his phone. No name needed.

She is too tired to resist she has worn herself @restlesslibido

She is too tired to resist.

She has worn herself out struggling against the ropes binding her wrists. Her muscles ache and her brain is foggy.

She is just in the twilight of unconsciousness when she feels warm hands upon her.

Good cop, after bad cop.

The mattress shifts and perfume secrets in around the sheets where she lies. And then there are warm lips on her own and no reason to fight any more.

The door slides back and there she is the collar @restlesslibido

The door slides back and there she is.

The collar is locked tightly around her neck, the chain holding her fast, but I can tell from the scratches and blood on the crew that she did not go willingly.

No matter. Any prize of value will incur a cost.

She back stares at me defiantly, just as I’d hoped. That will be the fuel with which I will burn down her defenses.

I head back inside to get ready. It will be a long night for one of us.

She knows this wont be the worst of it she @restlesslibido

She knows this won’t be the worst of it. 

She knows that the hands holding her head so firmly will continue to do so, that they will make her do whatever it is they want.

She just wants to see it in his eyes even if only @restlesslibido

She just wants to see it in his eyes, even if only briefly.


She looks down at him through her bottom lashes as their bodies grind together. 

She is a scorpion, with a wicked black stinger loaded with poison arching up behind her.

She is a snake, coiling and uncoiling around him, fangs hidden within the softness of her mouth.

She is a wolf, bristles barely hiding the muscles beneath, the hunger for blood and meat making her belly growl when she smells him.

She is a woman.

She flicks the knife out of her boot and his eyes widen.

Hes hard the moment she has him in hand hard and @restlesslibido

He’s hard the moment she has him in hand, hard and hot and pulsing with blood.

He’s desperate. At this point anything would set him off, feeling her breasts against him, kissing her, cupping her wet pussy in his hand. Hell, even what she’s doing now could do it, as light and torturously unsteady as it is. And for a moment, he actually thinks, maybe, just maybe, it’s going to happen.

Then she begins to speak. The moment he hears that tone of hers, that particular, soft, quiet tone, in which each syllable is carefully emphasized, the moment he hears it he knows all hope is lost. He has to endure this torment for as long as she finds it amusing, then nothing, then feeling his cock soften into a wet smear in his pants, balls aching, to wait for the next time she tugs at his fly, to try his luck again.

I check each link one by one looking carefully @restlesslibido

I check each link, one by one, looking carefully for opportunity.

The welds are crude, sloppy even, but solid enough to serve their purpose.

The last link at the end has been welded to a square of steel plate that’s riveted to an exposed I-beam. At the other end, the shackle around her ankle, equally crude but equally effective.

She sits, her head turned away, already having arrived at the same inevitable conclusion.

Shes helpless against it against the want the @restlesslibido

She’s helpless against it, against the want, the need, as helpless as she is against the metal cuffs binding her wrists together behind her back.

I ask her permission to do everything; this is her only condition. She made this clear when she first brought it up, in a quiet voice, from the safety of our shared bed in the darkest hour of the night.

It’s not that she’s afraid I will want something and she won’t. It’s not that she has limits. She wants me to do so much more than I ever would have thought and worse, horrible, cruel, terrible things. She wants me to do them but she needs to admit she wants them done first. She needs to consent.

I ask her if she wants me to write SLUT across her forehead with her expensive lipstick. I wait as the tears well up in her eyes. I know that her silence is part of it, that she’s walking into the shadows, where her demons live, seeking them out.

After a moment she whispers a yes.

My own voice is loud, full of bluster and venom. Yes what? I shout into her face, just like I know she needs. What the fuck is it you want me to do?

Her lips tremble as they shape the words. I reach my hand down between her legs and handle her wet pussy roughly, then smear it across her face before tracing the letters.

Hes embarrassed she tugs on the heavy leather @restlesslibido

He’s embarrassed.

She tugs on the heavy leather leash, pulling him forward onto his hands, so she can see the taunt curve of his ass. She releases some slack, pushes her heel into his side, to make him turn, so she can see it better.

He keeps his eyes downcast. His cheeks are red with shame, at being on his knees, a thick collar around his neck and lilac apron around his waist, the same color as the bra and panties she’s wearing under her little black dress.

When she first brought up the idea of dominating him all he thought about was thigh boots and blowjobs. He doesn’t know what he’s getting out of whatever this is.

Nothing, she says aloud, as this isn’t about you. Now pull those briefs down and let’s have a look at you.

It doesnt matter that the collar is locked tight @restlesslibido

It doesn’t matter that the collar is locked tight around her neck, that he’s got the key tucked safe away, that she is, figuratively, in his pocket.

She lays there, accepting his possessive gaze, letting him admire her, judge her worth the steep price he paid, the pride of ownership warming him from within.

She lays there and takes it all in, already plotting how the worm will turn, already having seen to the part of their story where fortunes are reversed, to the moment when she has a key of her own, dangling from between her breasts.

In the box a promise a glossy booklet depicting @restlesslibido

In the box a promise.

A glossy booklet depicting palm trees overlooking an unfamiliar ocean far away, sand fine like powered sugar, a thatch-roofed bungalow built on stilts above the turquoise water, with its own private walkway connecting it to shore.

Dark sunglasses, dark enough for her to lose herself in.

And all the clothing she would need, a black bikini in shiny neoprene, a new skin for her to wear while outside herself, while becoming herself.

The lure of luxury.

Her breath is hot and smells of sex of his mouth @restlesslibido

Her breath is hot and smells of sex, of his mouth and his cock, pushed out of her as he thrusts from behind.

Her eyes are low-lidded and blank, yet she keeps them open and fixed on me. 

This is what she wanted, to watch my face as I watched her even the score.

He leads me into the room and there they sit my @restlesslibido

He leads me into the room and there they sit, my girlfriend and her sister both, silent, impassive, motionless save for the gentle rising and falling of their breathing.

Once I had one the other was easy, he says. 

Her sister, laughing at his jokes, finding him charming, this stranger in line at the coffee shop, agreeing with only a moment’s hesitation to meet him for a drink.

Her sister, two drinks in, feeling his hand on top of hers and letting it stay, staring deep into his eyes, listening to his words, finding words of her own flowing out of her, seemingly without effort, as though drawn with a string.

Her sister, on my girlfriend’s doorstep, calm smile on her face, saying I have something very important to tell you.

My girlfriend, sitting across from her, listening intently, staring into her eyes, listening to the words pour out of her sister, the words he’d poured into her earlier, the trap softly and gently swinging shut.

Both of them, at his apartment door, the same calm smile on their faces, ready.

So, he says after a moment. Shall we discuss terms?

When it first starts off both of them are touching @restlesslibido

When it first starts off both of them are touching each other, the water from the shower hot, wetting the skin between them.

She can feel him harden in her hand. She knows how eager he is, regardless of appearances.

So she ignores the hand between her legs and focuses on stroking, stoking, stroking, until his cock is hot, hotter than the water, and the hand between her legs is ignored by both of them and falls to his side.

A squirt of conditioner in her hand, cool against his reddened flesh. She strokes anew, his buttocks pressed back against her body, waiting until she hears him gasping to press the first finger between, up inside him.

I want you for your money she says as she hikes @restlesslibido

I want you for your money, she says as she hikes up her minidress and straddles my lap.

The dress is kidskin leather, achingly soft, in a shade that flirts with burgundy. A week ago it was a small stack of hundred-dollar bills that she extracted from my wallet and tucked into her stockings, different ones than those she’s wearing now. I paid for both of them, those and these, and a few others besides.

Then you shall have it, I say and I rest my hands on the warm leather snug around her waist. But remember, I add, I am paying for something.

Oh? she asks. She works my zipper down and presses her hand inside my pants, extracting my hardening cock, pulling aside her mesh panties and mounting me. We both gasp as she sinks down on top of me. What is it you think you’re paying for?

She begins to move, forward and back, her hands meeting at the back of my head, pulling my mouth to hers.

For you to be wicked to me, I say and she smiles.

There is an exhibit shes really interested in @restlesslibido

There is an exhibit she’s really interested in seeing so we agree to meet in front of the museum after we both get out of work.

I’m there early, as my office is closer to the museum than hers. It’s the first warm spring day after a punishing winter, so I wait out on the steps, watching the people stream by, enjoying the sun on my face.

I hear her voice behind me and there she is, several steps further up, smiling. Her skirt is shorter than I’ve ever seen her wear before; she smooths down the sides and says happy Tuesday.

She takes her time with the exhibit, pausing in front of each work, adjusting her glasses and speaking at length about its significance.

It’s dark when we’re back on the steps again.

I dont know the significance to the row of black @restlesslibido

I don’t know the significance to the row of black spikes fastened around her throat until she has my cock in her mouth, until it’s far too late.

At this point I’m firmly tangled in her web, her trap sprung around me, until I am snared, helpless, with little choice but to comply unwaveringly with her whispered instructions.

My cock stays free, the level by which she exerts her control. It is my balls she’s after, the real source of my power. With a subtle flourish a metal clasp appears in her hands, secreted seemingly out of thin air, and in the span of a single suck she has it fastened wickedly in place.

She opens her mouth releasing my cock, wiping away the tendril that stretches from the tip to her lips with a single finger.

I am hers to command now. All I’m missing is the row of black spikes around my throat, to let everyone else know.

It started off as a lark as something to do to @restlesslibido

It started off as a lark, as something to do to talk about, a novel way to get some exercise.

Then her thighs got strong enough for her to attempt the more advanced routines, her feet got used to the heels, and she caught herself choreographing.

I begin to see them mixed into her laundry, shiny straps and panels, with contrasting zippers and snaps. The job at the library goes away but she’s never short on cash.

When I ask her what she does with her nights, she is quiet for a long time.

I do what I need to, she says, finally, what I want to need to.

Something about the metal makes her want to wear @restlesslibido

Something about the metal makes her want to wear lace, to be girly and soft and sweet.

The metal cap is hot when she lays her hand upon it, heated from within by the blood furiously pumping through his restrained flesh.

She squirms beneath him, molten, wet, sliding achingly left and right. His cock is as hard as the metal cruelty will permit but all that thwarted swelling only succeeds in cinching the merciless metal loop down around his balls.

He is in agony, imprisoned, bound, harnessed, contained. His eyes are red, from the strain or tears, she can’t begin to guess.

She realizes that she could probably orgasm like this, just by squeezing her thighs together and watching his face, her hands far away, grasping the Egyptian cotton sheets over her head.

She decides to find out and try.

She wakes with it on her mind and she spends the @restlesslibido

She wakes with it on her mind and she spends the entire day, twisting.

The moment she closes the door behind her you strip her, roughly, buttons torn free and rattling across the floor. You find the notch on the collar, one past tight enough, and fasten it, before dragging her to the chair you have thoughtfully placed in front of the mirror and forcing her hands down against the arms.

Your voice is low and rough and clear in its instructions.

She doesn’t want to look. 

She wants to be made to look.

You are willing to oblige.

Panicemy bound he asks you to close your eyes @restlesslibido



He asks you to close your eyes and hold out your arm.

You feel the cold metal as he fits the curve to your wrist, then again on top as the pin is slid into place.

The color surprises you, when you’re told you may reopen your eyes. For some reason it felt silver, but there the gold shines.

You are very bright, brighter than most but you can’t, for the life of you, figure out how the clasp works, through what unusual movement it is closed or opened.

Not that you have need.

Yes i like your outfit i managed to tell her you @restlesslibido

Yes I like your outfit, I managed to tell her.

You look very nice, I manage to say.

Hes lasted two hours far longer than anyone @restlesslibido

He’s lasted two hours, far longer than anyone thought he would.

The moments pass slowly, like the beads of sweat rolling down his spine.

From behind him, the sound of the door, then heels on the concrete floor and the clinking of steel.

A reward for your perseverance, she says, as she slides another 10-pound weight onto each side.

They are chains that bind her legs and sink into @restlesslibido

They are chains that bind her legs and sink into the soft flesh of her waist, made of metal and stronger than her.

The manacles fastened around her wrists are nearly too heavy for her to lift, even if they weren’t shackled to the floor. She has tried to free herself, for the few moments after she was brought her and locked into place, and before her tormentor arrived. She tried and failed, and now she has to accept that she never will.

She does her best to smile at him, as well as the cruel clamps crushing her nipples will allow, and comply with his every request. 

She’s decided this method – appeasement – her her only hope now.

She sends me a photo of herself in the locker @restlesslibido

She sends me a photo of herself in the locker room, just after she’s changed. 

First day on the job, the text reads. What do you think?

When she returns from her summer aboard she is @restlesslibido

When she returns from her summer aboard, she is fit and tanned and her hair has been bleached by the sun.

We fall into each other’s arms. Clothing disappears and our bodies remember their shared rhythm.

In the calmness afterward we lay together on top of the tangled sheets and that’s when I notice the jewelry she wears around her wrists. She is naked save for two bracelets, neither of which I recognize.

This one, she says, pointing to a series of sea shells, was given to me by a little boy on a street corner. He wouldn’t take any money for it but he made me I promise I wear it until it fell off on its own.

The other is solid, with some weight to it, and finely-crafted, seemingly without joint or hinge or clasp.

When I ask her about it, she rolls to face away and stays silent for a long time.

She knows exactly what i like she even has some @restlesslibido

She knows exactly what I like.

She even has some of those things in her wardrobe already. She looks them over as she’s deciding what to wear, to meet me for a day at the beach.

She’s tempted. She gets momentarily lost in the fantasy of tormenting me, showing up all innocent-like, while looking and being anything but, watching me squirm and stammer, see my face flush as she bends and stretches and arranges herself.

She’s tempted but she decides against it, choosing instead to savor this, more subtle torment first, that of getting my hopes up only to pierce them with a pin and deflate them slowly.

There’s time enough for all of it, in time.

They get themselves ready applying makeup and @restlesslibido

They get themselves ready, applying makeup and lotion and brushing their hair, stepping into the slick black bodysuits with which they’ve been provided and tugging them up into place. 

They turn and twist in front of the mirrors, examining every inch for imperfection and correcting it, taking the time they have to make themselves as ready as they can be.

Downstairs, in the main hall, the Alphas are sipping Scotch and laughing, waiting for the feast to begin

Theyve been talking for a while now my @restlesslibido

They’ve been talking for a while now, my girlfriend and a blonde I don’t recognize, secreted over by the fireplace, laughing broadly and leaning in.

I am on the other side of the room, in conversation myself, although not nearly as engaged. I nod and smile ambiguously and let my eyes wander back across the room. 

My girlfriend is slinky in her black sequins and I can tell from her eyebrows she’s being a flirt. The blonde laughs nervously and blushes and that’s when it happens, when their hands touch, right at their hemlines, and their hands entwine.

Half an hour from midnight. I know what will happen just not necessarily with whom.

He watches her as she walks away the sheer fabric @restlesslibido

He watches her as she walks away, the sheer fabric of her swimsuit stretched translucent across her body.

He pants to catch his breath while her breathing is calm and slow and easy.

Their times are still posted above the pool, hers substantially better than his. While they started at the same time she was racing the clock, not him. 

She strides away, her muscles flexing tauntly, never looking back. It’s clear who the victor is and both of them know it.

The uncertainty coursing through her veins makes @restlesslibido

The uncertainty coursing through her veins makes her hands shake. 

After a moment she extends them in front of her, as instructed. The rope is rough in loops around, cinching down, drawing her wrists together, binding her.

He lets the ends of the rope drop and her hands hang there as she waits, resigned, heart fluttering.

They walk in step the cadence of their footfalls @restlesslibido

They walk in step, the cadence of their footfalls clipped and steady, a single sound from three shoes.

Their flesh rises and falls with each step, a pattern repeated across the three, identical but different.

She didnt know what she was looking for or even @restlesslibido

She didn’t know what she was looking for, or even that she was looking, until she found it.

A website, simple and plain, that explained what had been haunting the shadows of her mind for as long as she could remember, an ideal, a concept, a school of thought. 

Denial as foreplay.

The moment she started reading her curiosity yielded to recognition. She wasn’t the only woman who’d had this thought; far from it. They were many, those in whom burned the desire to yoke and command a man. Here, the plan, time-tested and proved, was laid out in its entirety, from opening gambit to conclusion, with all the steps and stages in between. 

She chose her moment with care. She broached the idea when they were naked in bed, pulling her mouth away from his to whisper the words they’d given her, a dare, a challenge, a sexy game for them to play. He’d taken the bait so easily she wondered if this wasn’t something secretly he wanted too. The resistance she was met with afterward proved otherwise but for each of his thrusts she had a counter. As clever as he was he was no match for their collective mind, their shared experiences, and soon he was back on track, dutifully toeing the line.

The last step was the cage itself. It had to be his idea, they said. He needed to choose and buy it himself, to bind himself within willingly, to accept the lock she would provide and to fasten it in place without hesitation, knowing nothing of the key, trusting her.

She held his cock in her hands, stroking it gently, and stared up into his eyes. If that’s what you want, she said and he nodded. She took his cock into her throat one last time, sucking and stroking until he came, swallowing everything he pumped into her. A final sacrifice for a noble goal, the text had read. 

Thus drained he fit the plastic rings on and slid himself into the cage with ease, his hand outstretched for the lock

She had nodded when he’d asked her if she’d bought it but in truth she’d received by mail only that morning, sent from the website, her membership fees having paid for it. The package had not included a key but she was confident that it was all part of their plan, that they knew what they were having her do, they who had not yet steered her wrong.

Please no she whimpers as shes lifted to her @restlesslibido

Please no, she whimpers as she’s lifted to her feet but she knows the rules. She knew them when she sat down at the table, when she picked up the cards dealt in front of her, when she pushed the last of her chips into the pot.

She keeps saying it, no please no, as buttons are unfastened and zippers unzipped and she’s stripped of her clothing.

Her tone rises, higher and more frantic when she first feels the chain cold against her skin as it’s passed between her thighs and pulled tight, digging up into her pussy.

The lock is threaded in and clicked shut, then she’s turned loose, penniless, indebted, bound. They leave her panties on as one last item for her to sell, before having to resort to earning her freedom with mouth and hands. 

It’s not long before a finger is hooked through the convenient loop at the end of the chain and she finds herself being lead away, claimed.

Im awoken from a deep sleep by the sensation of @restlesslibido

I’m awoken from a deep sleep by the sensation of her slipping furtively out of bed.

I think nothing of it and doze off again until I hear a dresser drawer being quietly opened and closed.

I lay still, fully awake now but motionless, eyes flitting this way and that behind my closed lids.

Clothing lands muted on the floor. The closet door; the hangers jingle softly as something is removed. Plastic sounds, vinyl stretching, the sliding of sleeves up arms, the cinching of a belt around her waist. Her black PVC trench, I recognize it now, my brain swimming with confusion, the plastic fabric creaking with each move she makes.

The mattress dents under her weight. One knee beside me and the other one swinging over as she straddles me, her hands where my neck meets the pillow, lifting slightly, quickly guiding something underneath.

I open my eyes and she is over me, the flesh of her bare legs knifing out from within the glossy black, the night formless and dark behind her. She fits the end through the buckle and fastens the collar tightly around my neck, reaching a hand behind my head to pull my mouth to hers. 

Wake up baby, she says. I want to play.

She has a surprise for me something she bought @restlesslibido

She has a surprise for me, something she bought for herself. The moment she takes off her overcoat she knows she has my attention.

Throughout the evening, she straightens and recrosses her legs, smoothing her hands down her thighs unconsciously as she talks, laughing broadly and often, every once in a while leaning forward to tug the modest zipper at one ankle or the other.

She is aloof, maddeningly so.

Later, when my resistance has been completely exhausted, I kneel in front of her, self-respect replaced with naked desperation, and, resting my hands boldly on her knees, I beg her to sit on my lap, if only for a little while. 

She takes a thoughtful moment, then, to my surprise she acquiesces, a particular little smile on her lips. She stands and gestures for me to take her seat on the couch, walking to the entrance of the bar and collecting a handful of flat metal thumbtacks from the bulletin board there.

She walks back, then carefully presses the tacks through the seams sewn in her back pockets, from the inside out, until the tight leather hugging her ass bristles with metal points. 

Ready? she says.

She sits down firmly, then shifts this way and that, making herself comfortable.

The hand is tight over her mouth locking her @restlesslibido

The hand is tight over her mouth, locking her voice inside her, each breath heavy with the scent of Italian kidskin and cologne.

She squirms but metal bites into her wrists and ankles, a spiderweb of chain linking them up between her thighs.

With his other hand he leisurely guides a knife blade underneath her clothing, cutting it away. The wet head of his cock leaves a hot smear across her flesh before sinking inside her.

She moans into his hand with each thrust and endures.

I knew it was foolish to meet her again after @restlesslibido

I knew it was foolish to meet her again, after she’d confessed her feelings for me. 

The end of the year party for the department, I the professor, she the brilliant, promising student who I’d invited in recognition of her achievements. We were two of only a few people still at the bar when she’d cornered me in a darkened alcove in back. Despite the three whiskeys she’d used to work up the courage she was eloquent and earnest and I keenly felt the years that separated us. I did a poor job of fending off her flirtations, my heart not even slightly in it, tempted more with each breath of her perfume, with the light touch of her hand on my cheek.

We’d parted with a kiss that was an inappropriate as it was unavoidable, after which I retreated hastily to my apartment, my wife fast asleep in the bedroom, and curled up with a bottle of something old to burn the memory from my mind.

When she called the following week, she was mortified and asked meekly to meet so we could put the whole matter to rest face-to-face.

The moment I saw her I knew I knew it was a mistake, but that there was nothing to be done about it.

She was mine until misfortune crossed our paths @restlesslibido

She was mine, until misfortune crossed our paths with his.

He was a well-placed, wealthy government official. Because of her work we were obliged to make an appearance at an event he was hosting. She caught his eye in an unmistakably apparent way, he following her around and asking her repeatedly to be on his arm at an upcoming state function. We put in the necessary time and, after an hour or two of her masterfully deflecting his entreaties, we beat a hasty retreat and thought nothing further of it.

Until the calls began. The following Monday she received three calls row on her mobile from an unknown number, before her work line rang. It was his chief of staff, looking to make arrangements for the state function, as discussed. She demurred as politely as she could and hung up. Four more calls came in, first to her cell, then her work line, before she switched off her phone and left work early.

We were discussing this at home later that evening when there was a knock at the door. A personal courier, bearing her official invitation for the event the following night, her intention to attend already indicated, and several mysterious, silk-wrapped packages. Within, a heavy golden choker with matching gold wrist cuff, red lacquered stiletto heels, and a very expensive fitted dress in shimmering red latex, tailored, somehow, to her precise measurements.

Inside the dress, a small label had been adhered to the rubber. Property of and his name. Both the choker and bracelet bore the same words, etched into the metal.

It was then that we realized he wasn’t wooing her. These weren’t gifts. They belonged to him, as did anyone who was wearing them. 

And the sooner she put them on, the better it would be for everyone.

Without a word, we hastily packed a bag and headed out. On the platform, just as our train to friends deep in the country was pulling into the station, her phone rang again. Her mother this time, in tears, saying she’d been informed there was a discrepancy with her lease and she would have to move out by the week’s end.

We returned to the apartment in silence.

The following night, she washed and made herself ready, then took the dress into our bedroom, closing the door after her. Moments later she emerged, her body sealed expertly in glistening crimson rubber. I placed the choker around her neck and the cuff around her wrist, carefully pressing the clasp closed, locking the ends together. 

There was a knock at the door. She didn’t turn around as she opened the door and walked out.

He talks back to her laughing at her @restlesslibido

He talks back to her, laughing at her instructions, openly insubordinate.

It’s all a joke to him, this, what he himself asked for, the expensive leather cuffs he bought and begged her to use on him, the special, heavy-duty eyelet he screwed into the overhead beam.

She tugs his briefs down, his erection springing out and he things he’s going to get his dick sucked, she can see it in his eyes.

Her fist, clenching around his balls, wakes him up to the reality of his situation.

He is quiet and attentive after that.

She presses her hand against his belly hard @restlesslibido

She presses her hand against his belly, hard, tensed, ready. 

She slows, savoring the moment, stretching it out as far as it will go.

It was a few days after theyd celebrated their @restlesslibido

It was a few days after they’d celebrated their second year together when she noticed it.

He wasn’t fat, as such, but he’d definitely started to put on a little weight, to form a the beginnings of a belly that pushed out over the waist of his pants.

This would not do.

She was just about to lay down in bed beside him when the yoga ball in the corner caught her eye. I have an idea, was all she said, and forty-five sweaty minutes later, after they’d both collapsed, breathless, back into bed, she knew she was onto something.

He sinks inside her pinning her to the mattress @restlesslibido

He sinks inside her, pinning her to the mattress and out of her mouth comes animal sound, the open-throated moan of a mortally-wounded beast.

She clutches his hands with her own, knuckles white, just holding on as she is bred.

They do this to get a rise out of me fall into @restlesslibido

They do this to get a rise out of me, fall into each other’s arms and kiss, press their bodies against one another, leather over hips squeaking against leather over hips.

Their heels click together lazily as they separate and turn to look at me, an invitation, a promise, a tease. 

I ignore them for as long as I can, resist until I can do so no longer, until it’s up to them to decide my fate.

It was so easy before it was black and white @restlesslibido

It was so easy, before. 

It was black and white. She was young, he was old. She was broke, he was rich. She was beautiful and sexy, and he was a fat, disgusting pig in a three-piece suit.

Once a week, when both her roommates were out, she would turn on Skype and click on his fat little face. He knew to answer her call quickly, regardless of where he was, as it was understood that each ring past the first was an extra thousand dollars. 

He’d answer and there he’d be, red and sweaty and usually out of breath, crouching down in an empty cubicle in the middle of some law firm or brokerage, his lips trembling, the camera shaking because his hands were shaking.

Then out it would come. All the frustrations and aggravations since their last call – roommates late on their part of the electric bill, a nagging mother, disappointing friends – would come firing out at him, sharpened words, about his fat ugly face or swollen neck or beady little fucking eyes or hideous suit. She would rain down abuse on him, zero in on the slightest imperfection or flaw that caught her eye in that moment and let him have it.

It was almost over when he started crying. I’m getting bored with you, she’d say, maybe I won’t call you again. And he’d plead, he’d beg, he’d tilt the camera to show he was on his knees.

A dollar amount. It started off small, only a couple of hundred dollars. Until she found out how rich he really was, until she blackmailed him into giving her access to his bank account and she saw the balance with her own eyes.

By now she wouldn’t call him unless she had a specific number in mind, something to buy with it. She would name it, then make him transfer it to her while she watched. The moment the transfer went through she’d hang up.

Except this time.

While they waited for the confirmation code, he spoke up in a small voice. He asked for her mailing address, said he had something for her, a gift. She figured why not – she could bankrupt him with only a couple of mouse-clicks. She said her address, watching the status bar, and disconnecting the moment it went through. He would have to figure out the zip code.

A package in her hands, delivered by FedEx while she was at work. A card inside: For my own personal demon, to better torment me

Digging her hands into the tissue she lifted it out, translucent, shimmering, strong black bands running its length. Very expensive. Tailored to her.

A bottle of lubricant. She closed both the curtains and the door to her room, and, for good measure, turned off the lights. Clothes off. Lubricant cool against her skin. First one foot, then the other, then she shifted her hips, until it was snug up against her sex. Her arms through the straps and it slid into place, hugging her closely.

She looked at herself in the mirror and found her breath had left her, that her heart had betrayed her with his rapid beating. It was her hands that were shaking as she opened her laptop and clicked on his picture.

His face filled her screen, calm and ambivalent.

Yes? he asked. He’d not spoken like this to her before.

I got your gift, she said, trying to keep her voice steady. I just wanted to say – I just – I like it very much.

Stand and let me see you, he said, sitting back. Something had changed, she knew suddenly. Everything had changed. She found herself standing and stepping back, so from knees to hair she appeared in the monitor. 

A text box popped up. An address.

My apartment, he said, now. Heels, overcoat, nothing else. No phone, no keys, nothing else. Do you understand.

Not a question. She nodded. 

Take a cab, he said, you have ten minutes

Something had changed, alright. 

Somehow everything had changed.

She has a surprise for me she tells me on the @restlesslibido

She has a surprise for me, she tells me on the phone.

Something she saw in a thrift store that made her think of me. An early birthday present.

She’s in the bathroom when I get there. The echoing sound of movement and her voice come from behind the door.

On a whim I tried it on, she says. Fits me like it was tailored. The shopgirl took one look and told me that if I didn’t buy it she was going to call the cops.

The sound of sliding fabric.

She also said that whoever I was going home to was a lucky boy. I think she was hitting on me.

A zipper, being carefully drawn along its length, to the end.

Okay, go sit on the bed.

The creak of the door, opened a crack, then all the way. The steady tick of her heels on the floor, an unfamiliar swish accompanying each step, stopping in front of me.

Happy birthday, she says.

She offers to sell him to me how long depends on @restlesslibido

She offers to sell him to me.

How long depends on how much, she says. She fondles the key that until now has just been jewelry hanging from her necklace.

You buy the key, she says, but that doesn’t mean you need to use it. In fact, I’d prefer that you didn’t – I’m trying to teaching him discipline – but once the cash is in my hands he’s all yours.

He stands between us, mute. His eyes are fixed on a point in the distance but when he sees me reach for my wallet he swallows silently and begins to blink faster.

He’s not even my type, really, but I like her. I want to do business with her. I extract several bills.

For that, she says, he’s all yours. Keep him, rent him out, sell him to someone else – whatever you’d like.

A key in my hand where the cash used to be. We are both smiling now.

It pays very well and if shes honest with @restlesslibido

It pays very well and, if she’s honest with herself, she likes the attention.

She tells people who ask that she’s a hostess, which isn’t untrue, not really. It’s closer to being true than not and that’s good enough for her.

The uniform took a little getting used to but the other girls helped her out, showing her how to rub the lubricant into her skin, how to slide it carefully up over her hips and snugly into place. 

The sound of the zipper is a part of it, of her transformation. She listens for it now, the sound of being sealed into her role, as definitive as the click of a lock on a collar around her neck.

At this point the her who took the subway there is gone, hanging in her locker with her clothes and cell phone, her driver’s license, her name.

She joins the others, glistening in their matching cheongsams, waiting behind the curtain for their shift to start.

She tugs the briefs up into place then looks over @restlesslibido

She tugs the briefs up into place then looks over her shoulder at me and asks me what I think.

We are planning a trip together, to someplace tropical and hot, with powdered-sugar beaches and turquoise waters. She’s trying on the bikini she bought for the occasion.

Hold on, don’t say anything yet, she adds. Let me put the top on first.

It was her idea i balked initially as it seemed @restlesslibido

It was her idea.

I balked initially, as it seemed so fraught, so likely to cause problems between us. But she pleaded, in a way I’d never seen her do before, fragile, needing it, nakedly desperate, and so I relented.

I follow the script she’d laid out. I entered her apartment ahead of her and hid in a closet. It was dark when she arrived and she’d only just slung her bag down when I was upon her.

I gagged her tightly with a shirt of hers I’d ripped into strips, binding her hands behind her as well. You have to make sure both are tight, that I actually can’t free myself or speak, she’d told me. And I did. 

Next to the couch, pushing her forward over it, kicking her feet apart, lifting up her skirt and tearing away her panties. I forced myself inside her and had my way. When I finish she is sobbing into the gag. When I free her mouth she is repeating thank you, over and over and over.

It’s a week later. Everything’s back to normal. I get a flirty text from her, asking me to come by, that she’d like to repay me for my performance.

The moment I close the door there’s a hood over my head and a foot at the back of my knees, bringing me to the floor. Handcuffs, too tight, on my wrists. A knife blade, long and cold and wicked, insinuates itself underneath my clothing, cutting it away. I am lifted to my feet and led to another room, forced down onto a bench. The sound of a lock fastening my cuffs below me. Her heels on the floor, echoing for the lack of other furniture.

It’s then that I finally understand. It wasn’t an act; it was a reenactment. The only reason she wanted to do it was so she could respond, in her own way, when she was ready, after she’d planned and prepared and whetted an appetite with a willing and trusted facilitator.

The whip cracks down against my skin. I endue, for her. 

On advice from a friend she bought herself a pair @restlesslibido

On advice from a friend she bought herself a pair of boots in jet-black suede.

They were tall, the tops landing just over her knees, nothing outrageous and yet nothing she’d ever think to buy for herself. Drawing the zipper up on first one leg and then the other, she felt something stirring within her, an unfamiliar feeling of calm. 

Everything else she had already. Stockings, a minidress, a long sweater. Only the boots she bought and she bought them specifically for this moment, the moment he came home and walked through the door.

She waited until he’d closed the door behind him to speak.

Things, she said to him, are going to be different from now on.