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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)
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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.

Fear.

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

panicemy:

Bound.

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.

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