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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 smile she gave me as i showed her to the @restlesslibido

The smile she gave me as I showed her to the viewing room was curious but I’d not thought anything of it at the time. She was an excellent customer and my habit was to indulge, rather than question, her moods. 

When she was settled, glass of champagne in hand, I’d had the slaves brought in but she was ambivalent, waving them away after only a cursory inspection.

Are you unhappy with the selection? I asked. She took a thoughtful sip.

Not my particular mood tonight, she replied.

I deeply apologize, I said with a slight bow. If you will permit me a moment or two I will have more slaves –

Here she stopped me with a raised hand. 

I have seen something here tonight that’s piqued my interest, she said. And there was that strange little smile again, curling up the corners of her mouth.

After, once she has had her particular need satisfied, she will make me lick her leather pants clean, then book an appointment for the following night.

At the appointed hour he emerged from the @restlesslibido

At the appointed hour he emerged from the bathroom, naked, his cock heavy although not yet erect.

The chair had been placed in the center of the room, several coils of rope to either side. He dutifully sat down, lined his legs up with those of the chair and let his arms hang. 

Her voice, from the shadows behind him: Close your eyes.

When they were closed he heard footfalls on the carpet beside him. The rope was wound around his ankles and wrists and biceps, until he was firmly and helplessly bound to the chair.

Her voice again, in front of him: You may open them now.

She stood over him, naked herself save for ankle stockings and heels, her hair slicked into an unfamiliar part. Her but not her. She straddled him then lowered herself down, his cock, hard from the moment he opened his eyes, finding his way inside her. Once down she started to rock her hips slowly, her nipples just brushing his chest.

He let out a low groan but she shook her head.

Tonight isn’t about you, love, she whispered into his neck.

It would be hours until she was satisfied.

Hes tall this one handsome and rugged with a @restlesslibido

He’s tall, this one, handsome and rugged, with a thick head of hair she’s enjoying running her fingers through and gripping.

She tightens her grip on the chain.

Yes, he’ll do just fine, she thinks.

It will not be easy serving a man like him shes @restlesslibido

It will not be easy, serving a man like him.

She’s only been with boys before, timid and nervous and unsure of themselves, unsure of her. 

He is nothing if not certain of both of their roles.

This is how she imagines it no words no excuses @restlesslibido

This is how she imagines it.

No words, no excuses, just me towering over her then my strong hands picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom, my prey, my mate, my woman. 

She imagines that I will push her backward down onto the bed, sliding her skirt up to her hips, pulling the lacy panties she’s wearing underneath to one side, my cock swinging hard out of my pants and inside her. My weight on top of her, my hand at her throat.

This is how she imagines it would be, if it could be, trying to cling to every tiny detail before the orgasm comes and it all fades back into nothingness.

They think i dont know they think that if @restlesslibido

They think I don’t know.

They think that if they’re very, very quiet, holding their breath as their bodies interlock, that it will be their little secret.

They are the young couple with whom I struck up a conversation at the restaurant downstairs. After a drink or two I invited them up as my guests, to enjoy the water views that my spare room has. To them I was the sad older man with no one in his life eager for the company and conversation.

After a last drink they excused themselves to retire, leaving me with my cognac and memories.

The silence was deafening.

The night-vision monitor casts my face in green as I watch their bodies fit together. I can tell they’re in love by the way they touch each other, whisper silence sweetness into each others lips.

I look at my watch. Fifteen minutes to go. At that point, the sedatives with which I spiked their drinks will kick in.

I find myself hoping they’ll cum together but like everyone young they assume they have the rest of their lives. 

Matching collars with engraved padlocks, a third lock for the wicked little metal cage for his cock. I check everything over one last time and then settle in to wait. It won’t be long now.

She moans into the gag the leather strap biting @restlesslibido

She moans into the gag, the leather strap biting into the side of her mouth.

A droplet of drool, perfectly clear, balances on her bottom lip before sliding over and landing on the mattress below.

His brings his hand back from her ass, where it landed, his palm stinging, and readies himself for another.

Shes decided this is how things are not forever @restlesslibido

She’s decided This is How Things Are.

Not forever, mind you. For now. Until she changes her mind.

If she has a plan she doesn’t share it with me. Perhaps it’s all a test, but of what? How much power her pussy entitles her? Her ability to control me? 

She’s bound me with my word. 

She gathers her skirt from where she dropped it, steps inside, and tugs it up over her hips. A zip up the side tightens the leather around her body. The blazer, up over her shoulders, a hand sweeping her hair out from underneath. 

She steps into her heels then waits.

Ready to go? she asks.

It was just a costume inky black and slick it @restlesslibido

It was just a costume.

Inky black and slick, it slid over her body like a glossy shadow, her blonde hair shimmering down her back.

She looked good. And she knew it. Best at the party, by an order of magnitude.

Lots of boys, awkward but compelled to approach, to say something, driven by their hormones to try and claim her. Denied, all of them, some more charitably than others. 

Then there were the two, dressed neatly in all-black, with a belt over the shoulder, linked to another around the waist. Serious types, not the usual comic book fans.

Love your costume, one said, each taking one of her hands in their own. Is it latex?

She opened her mouth to answer and found herself spun around, so she was facing away from them, her hands behind her. One of them in front again: Where’d you get it?

Metal clicking, a tightening around her wrists, and her arms were bound. Again at her elbows, curved metal bands, locking together to hold her fast. 

Hands gathering her hair and lifting, and then cold around her neck, coming close all the way around, a metal band, a collar, clicking solidly together. 

Both in front now, with smiling eyes but serious. From a pocket a silver chain that clipped to the collar, the chain tightening, and a hand on both arms, guiding her forward.

She thought to resist but her nature forbade it.

She lets her robe slip shes been harnessed @restlesslibido

She lets her robe slip. She’s been harnessed.

That’s the moment they flood in through the door, her new employers, those for whom she’s sold me out. I lunge but one gets the jump on me and jabs a taser into my back.

Down, at her feet. How fitting. 

Surprise, she says over my unconscious body as she pulls the robe closed again. The pick me up, ankles and wrists, and carry me into the bedroom. They will do what they need to in there, with the curtains drawn.

She will learn i will teach her first with the @restlesslibido

She will learn.

I will teach her. First with the cane and then with the cock. 

She will count the strokes, biting her lip to keep from making any other sound, tears dropping lightly to the floor below.

And when I’ve reached the prescribed number she will be wet through, from front to back. I will make her pull her shorts down and hold them, keeping her knees together, my feet to either side of her own.

And when I fuck her she will feel the cane marks across her ass, my flesh meeting her own.

She will learn.

I will teach her.

Shes eager the brunette she gulps and sucks and @restlesslibido

She’s eager, the brunette. She gulps and sucks and grips his cock.

She’s much younger than he is and helplessly enthralled. She wants so desperately to please him, to make him cum, to catch his eye with her willingness to swallow. She wants to be asked back and perhaps be fucked by him the next time.

The blonde puts her hand on the brunette’s, makes a quiet shhhhh sound to slow her down. She knows what the brunette is thinking. She was there once, wet-faced and nervous.

She needs to learn how to handle him, the brunette, how to channel her fear and desperation into power, how to give him what he wants.

The blonde knows. She learned these lessons herself. 

The blonde will teach her, the brunette. The blonde will train her to be exactly what he wants her to be.

She vows to herself she isnt going to beg but @restlesslibido

She vows to herself she isn’t going to beg.

But her fingers trace the lines of the hand he has around her throat and she can feel how hard he is through her panties as he presses his body against her and before she can help herself her mouth is moving, spilling words.

He loosens his grip on her ever so slightly, and she’s around and on her knees, fumbling with his belt and his zipper, stuffing his cock down her throat to silence herself. 

Its the natural order of things hes smaller @restlesslibido

It’s the natural order of things. 

He’s smaller and weaker than she is, so he’s a slave. He would have to fight to reclaim his voice, his freedom, but he’s far too fragile for that. Better to bear her mark around his neck and endure her cock up his ass.

I’m larger and stronger than both of them. I didn’t have to enslave them all, just her. The moment she knelt to me, so too did all of those she owned.

To teach her humility I had one of her own collars fastened around her neck. Then I branded their flesh with my mark, all of them, she and her stable of slaves, so show that being owned by me is not as simple to shake off as cutting a collar away, that there’s a price to everything.

She unzips her miniskirt chocolate leather and @restlesslibido

She unzips her miniskirt, chocolate leather, and pushes it down over her hips, dropping it to the floor, her eyes never leaving my own.

The panties are new, lace mesh, with a tiny white bow.  

She unbuttons her shirt and lets it fall away as well before unfastening her bra, also in lace mesh, and sliding onto the bed beside me.

My discomfort is clear, despite my best efforts to keep it hidden. She takes a moment to savor it. 

It’s all very new to her, this strange feeling in her belly. When she first felt it she had no idea what it was, not until she described it to me and I identified it for her. 


Now it’s familiar. Now it’s the warm glow she’s been seeking since the last time we were together on this bed, since she stopped following instructions and started giving them.

Come on, she says, coaxing. I stand and undress. Her voice, from behind me: Turn around.

I do so, my hands together over my crotch. Her eyes go from mine, down, and back up.

Take your hands away, she saysTwo weeks ago this would have been a request, humbly made, with please and thank you

No longer.

It’s a dark blotch between my legs, her cruelty and control. She picked it out herself, a wicked cage in pink plastic, one size too small. 

Her hand slides down her thigh to the tiny white bow and beneath. Her breathing becomes steady, deep, faster.

They had to use torture to break her but break her @restlesslibido

They had to use torture to break her but break her they did and now she belongs to them.

It was her hand that laced my drink, her fingers that dialed the phone to let them know they could come get me. She watched with cold eyes as they put me into a body bag, held the door for them as they carried me out.

She walks into the room where they’ve brought me, her body draped in transparent latex. She carefully smoothes her dress before sitting down in front of me, watching as they strap me into the device.

Despite her dress she is prim. She holds herself upright, shoulders back, hands folded neatly together on her knees. I blink at her as the drugs wear off, speak her name, but she does not appear to hear me.

Hands press my head back into a padded support and fasten a strap. Headphones over my ears, blocking out all sound except what they choose for me to hear. A gag in my mouth to block my words.

The machine beneath me begins to hum.

The sound is familiar to her, as she sat in this very chair not that long ago. She wants to watch it happen this time, to see my resistance drawn out like wire, thinning until it snaps. 

Gears rotate and the process begins. 

It takes four of them to get her into the van to @restlesslibido

It takes four of them to get her into the van, to get cuffs on her wrists and a bag over her head. By the time they arrive at least two of them are bleeding and one’s walking with a limp.

They drag her to a chair and set her down, then pull the bag off. One of them is holding up a blurry photograph of her eight-year-old nephew at the playground. The moment she sees it the fight is out of her.

Tell me what you want me to do, she says in a small voice. 

Her heels click on the bank’s polished marble floors and the vinyl of her bikini stretches as she walks The moment she’s through the doors all eyes are on her, just as they planned. The gun is empty but no one will know that until later, until it’s too late.

She walks to the nearest teller and hands him the note, their words in her hand. Somewhere nearby a lock is cut and the real theft begins.

She charges i still dont know how to guard her @restlesslibido

She charges. I still don’t know how to guard her so I make a clumsy, handless lunge. She slips by like a shadow, sets up, and sinks another shot.

I have no idea how long she’d been standing there, waiting. I was deep in my weekend routine, doing layup drills with my earbuds in and the volume up, oblivious to the world, when a shot bounced off the rim and into her hands.

You up for a game? she asked and she bounced the ball back at me. She was cocky and cute, all five feet of her, in her gold sneakers and a regulation jersey that came down to her knees. I smiled.

Sure, I said, all swagger and bravado. I’d been going strong for over an hour and my blood was running hot. Beyond that, I had over a foot on her. I bounced the ball back, hard. Care to make it interesting?

She caught the ball deftly. What did you have in mind? she asked.

Loser buys dinner, I said. And drinks.

She frowned. I thought you said “interesting”, she said. How about, loser is slave for a day?

I should have seen this for the warning sign it was. But there was too much testosterone flowing through my veins and all I could think about was 24 hours of that tight little body on mine. I held out my hand.

Deal, I said. We shook and she handed me the ball.

I’ll be skins, she said. She pulled her jersey up over her head, then tugged her baggy shorts down over her hips and stepped out of them, tossing everything on the sidelines. Ready?

She walks back to the top of the key and waits. I bounce the ball to her and she shakes her head. 

One shot to go, she says. You’re not going to like what I have in store.

This is his first taste of it she sits back on @restlesslibido

This is his first taste of it.

She sits back on her heels and waits. He gasps until he catches his breath, his cock throbbing, red, wet from the inside of her mouth.

He asked for this, explained to her in detail his fantasy. That was last night, after a drink or two too many, in the intimate shadows of his bedroom. 

He was awoken this morning by her searching hands beneath the sheets, her lips and tongue and mouth bringing the blood to his skin.

He blinks to clear his eyes. She sits, perched on the edge of the settee, her legs spread, the contours of her pussy just visible through the stretch lace of her panties. He imagines ripping them aside and penetrating her, fucking her, having her.

I think that’s enough for now, she says as she stands.

I take it back, he says, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. I don’t want to do that fantasy anymore.

She sets her weight on one leg, crossing the other in front, lace folding into the cleft of her pussy. She smiles.

I’m not doing this for you, she says, shaking her head. This is my fantasy now.

She turns, walks toward the bathroom. You mind putting the coffee on?

When she sees the needles come out she begins to @restlesslibido

When she sees the needles come out she begins to panic.

She struggles against the ropes but she is too tightly bound to escape. That part she was expecting. But this..

The alcohol swab is cold and she has to grit her teeth against the clamp he fastens in place.

If you want me to stop, just tell me, he says. He waits for a moment, their eyes locked, needle poised.

She says nothing. She could. She just doesn’t. 

Little whispers in the wind about soft spots and @restlesslibido

Little whispers in the wind, about soft spots and weaknesses. She listens carefully, keenly interested.

She waits until I’m laying down, until I’ve relaxed, until I’m staring out at the water absently to swim in toward shore, to where it’s shallow enough for her feet to touch bottom, to stand and stride slowly out of the water.

She fixes my eyes with her own, to make sure I’m watching, to make sure those little whispers were true, to watch my expression as the water slides off of her slickness.

She smiles and walks to her towel and sits down to wait.

Im only about a hundred meters from the border @restlesslibido

I’m only about a hundred meters from the border, from freedom, when I see the motorcycle.

Movement during the day is always a risk but a necessary one, in this case. They’d been going house-to-house, looking for me, so traveling only at night was a luxury I could no longer afford.

I’d used the river running along the side of the road as cover but it disappeared into a culvert as I got close the border. 

Peering through the tall grasses, the road beckoned to me, open and empty. A hundred meters and all of this was behind me.

The moment my feet touched pavement I saw the motorcycle, parked behind a tree, and I knew it was too late.

No markings on her uniform – never a good sign. She put her hands on her hips and smiled. 

You want to make a break for it, don’t you, she said.

I have to try, I said.

Of course you do, she said with a laugh. She reached down and extracted a thin metal band from one boot. An alpha-wave generator that suppressed independent thought. Or, as we knew them, a compliance collar. She tossed it to me.

We could do this the hard way, she said. You could run and I’d chase you and we’d get ourselves all muddy rolling around in the grass before I got the collar on you. Or you could save both of us a whole lot of trouble and you could just put the collar on yourself.

I turned the collar over in my hands. Well-made and hellishly effective, I had to give them that. 

One hundred meters. 

I placed the collar around my neck.

I would have made it, I said as I locked it on, enslaving myself.

Of course you would have, she said.

She does a turn for me stopping in front of the @restlesslibido

She does a turn for me, stopping in front of the mirror so I have a perfect view.

She wants to make sure I’ve taken it all in, that I haven’t missed a single stitch, before she heads out.

She won’t be home until late.

I see his fingers slide around the inside of her @restlesslibido

I see his fingers slide around the inside of her thigh.

She leans in, pressing herself against him, shifting until she finds the spot she wants.

I watch her ass move ever so slightly, back and forth. I can’t see her face but I know her eyes are closed. The club is loud so I can’t hear anything but I know she’s moaning.

When i open the door there she is and i know in @restlesslibido

When I open the door there she is, and I know in that moment that this is not going to be the simple goodbye I was expecting it to be.

May I come in? she asks, with a flick of her hair. The bangs are new, as is a lot about the her she now apparently is. I gesture inward and she walks past me, the leather of her pants creaking skintight across her ass.

I watch her walk, my resolve to end things evaporating with each step she takes.

When she slides off her skirt it becomes @restlesslibido

When she slides off her skirt it becomes immediately apparent to him that she has prepared for this moment, that none of those coincidences that brought him here were, in fact, coincidences, that any feeling of control he has is nothing more than that, a feeling.

She smiles and waits.

I am inside you thrusting my hand at your neck @restlesslibido

I am inside you, thrusting, my hand at your neck, my lips at your ear, whispering.

I am inside your head. 

She, underneath, is hands and tongue and breasts and soft wetness against your leg, her lips in your ear as well, whispering responses to me, fucking me through you.

You are trapped in the middle, prey caught in a net, panting, helpless, gasping as you are consumed.

The pulses of pleasure come at a steady throb @restlesslibido

The pulses of pleasure come at a steady throb, each a little stronger than the last. She clenches her thighs and rubs small, agonizing circles around her nipples. She is not impatient to cum, savoring its inevitability.

Each pulse is accompanied by an urgent scream from the floor beside her. The pulses throb between his legs too, each stronger than the next, although there is little pleasure in them.

She finds herself tuning into them, his screams, anticipating them, waiting until she hears them to clench her thighs. 

She adjusts the device, reducing her throbbing while increasing his, until at last he is the only one still being pulsed, and she needing nothing more than the sounds of his agony to push her over the edge. 

She was shopping to dull the ache of an unhappy @restlesslibido

She was shopping to dull the ache of an unhappy relationship.

To everyone else he was a real catch: gainfully employed, good-looking enough but not too good-looking, stable, on a solid career path. But the reality was that she unnerved him. She had desires, curiosities, wants, none of which he shared. All of which intimidated him.

She was meant for better things, he knew that. So he endeavored to clip her wings with cruel words, to ground her by convincing her she couldn’t fly.

She wasn’t even shopping, just wandering among the racks and trying to empty her mind, to feel nothing.

They were soft and cool, shining dully from amid the other pants on the rack, misplaced by some unknown hand. Real leather. On sale. Her size.

She watched herself walk toward the changing room. He would hate them. He would tell her she looked like a slut, that she was showing off for other men and bringing shame down on herself. 

She saw herself in the changing room, stepping out of her flats, unbuttoning her slacks. Her foot sliding into the narrow sheath, the leather hugging her calf, her thighs, snug up over her hips, smooth against her ass. 

One button and a tiny zip and she looked at herself in the mirror, transformed. Suddenly everything was clear. Suddenly she knew what she had to do to survive.

She was at the register when another associate brought over her slacks. 

Are these yours? the associate asked. 

 No, she replied. They belong to someone else. 

My phone buzzes the number is unfamiliar as is @restlesslibido

My phone buzzes.

The number is unfamiliar, as is the background and the outfit.

The eyes, as hidden as they are behind the curtain of dark hair, are so very familiar.

After the photo, an address.

It is not an invitation.

She stares into her phone at the photo of herself @restlesslibido

She stares into her phone at the photo of herself.

The top is cute, a color that’s always worked with her hair color.

The skirt is snug over her hips, glossy and tight right down to the knees, with a split in back. It stretches as she shifts her weight from one leg to the other, the fitting room lights reflecting in angled lines, first one way and then the other. 

It’s not easy to walk in but it’s not meant to be easy to walk in.

She’s tempted to wear it out but she decides instead to save it, all of it, for him.

When she comes home from shopping she says she has @restlesslibido

When she comes home from shopping she says she has a surprise for me.

She brings the bags into the bedroom, then I hear the shower turn on. She pads out a moment later, wrapped in a silk bathrobe and takes my hand.

Our mouths are on each other under the water, the soap slick on our skin. I am inside her, pumping slowly, when I feel her hand on my chest. 

Not yet, she says.

I’m still hard as we towel each other off, then once again she takes my hand, leads me into the bedroom. It’s dark outside now, the room lit only by candles, the curtains drawn, the air warm. She sits me in the corner, then turns back to the bed.

From the bags she withdraws the components for an outfit. A sheer, cream-colored blouse. A shiny black bralette, matching boyshorts. A pleated pleather miniskirt. A pair of floppy, soft, brown suede boots.

She unfastens the bathrobe and lets it drop. She steps into the boyshorts, slides the bralette down over her head, tugging it into place, snug around her breasts. Next the shirt, then the skirt, tucking her shirttails into place before zipping up and tugging it taunt over her hips. She slid her feet into the boots, then did a spin for me and met my eyes with her own.

You like? she asked. She set one foot on either side of my legs, drew my hands up and placed them on her ass. I nodded and swallowed dryly. 

Now it’s your turn, she said, turning back to the bags. Her eyes, over her shoulder, seeing my confusion. Do this for me.

I stood, walked to her side. From the bags, the same outfit again – blouse, boyshorts, bralette, skirt, boots – except sized for my shoulders, for my hips, for my waist. She pulled the towel away and smiled.

Theres the sound of a zipper and she tugs her @restlesslibido

There’s the sound of a zipper and she tugs her leather miniskirt down over her hips and drops it to the floor.

She steps out of it, then lays down on the couch and starts scrolling through her phone, looking at things on which to spend the money I am about to give her.

I imagine indulging my darker impulses, briefly. I am much larger than her and I could overpower and have my way with her without much effort. As though she can sense what I’m thinking she rolls over and raises an eyebrow.

The key dangling from around her neck slips down between her breasts. She extracts it helpfully.

My hands shake as I make out the check. 

They are playing a game the two of them a @restlesslibido

They are playing a game, the two of them, a competition of sorts.

The target is the office Lothario, doling out unrequested massages, his eyes always fixed when they shouldn’t even glance, laughing at his own slimy come-ons.

Whoever can first get him to ask – better yet, beg – to lock up his cock is the winner. The loser has to suck him off, so he’s soft enough to cage, and swallow.

And while the prize is the key, it is entirely symbolic. A squirt of super glue will see to that.

It all seemed so sexy when he first described it @restlesslibido

It all seemed so sexy when he first described it, glamorous even.

A private party with an ultra-exclusive guest list of only the wealthiest and most powerful, the elite. He would be her entrée into this secret world and she his collateral. 

She knew he would be the one to take her home, after all the intrigue and low-lighting.

She wore her most expensive cocktail dress and nothing underneath, per his instructions. Sitting on the edge of the bed in his hotel suite, she looked deeply into his eyes as he peeled the protective cover off the temporary tattoo – a number, her number – and pressed it firmly into the flesh at her shoulder.

She saw herself led back to this very bed in a few hours time, to lay claim to her prize, this handsome man in front of her.

The collar around her neck was a surprise but it was his collar and the thought of him claiming her melted her between her legs. She had half a mind to slide down to her knees right there but she didn’t want to appear desperate.

Hours later, she is dragged back to consciousness by yet another pair of hands gripping her hips, yet another chemically-enhanced cock penetrating her, yet another moneyed man mounting her and pleasuring himself with her body, her chaperone long having left with a briefcase of cash.

They disappear into each others arms leaving me @restlesslibido

They disappear into each others arms, leaving me to fade into the background, before vanishing completely.

They struck up a conversation in a coffee shop @restlesslibido

They struck up a conversation in a coffee shop line, he a charming wealthy gentleman and she bright-eyed and flirtatious.

She let it be known early on that she was with someone, expecting that to be the end of things but instead he took a particular interest and before she knew it she was on her third glass of wine, telling him in detail about their sex life, what they enjoyed and what they were curious to try.

He put his hand on her knee and she left it there, enjoying the strange sensation of unfamiliar skin. Feeling bold she put her own hand on his leg, sliding it up his thigh until she brushed against his cock, straining hard against the fabric.

I want to help, he said. I want to open doors for you.

Really? she asked. Is that all you want?

He leaned back. She tightened her hand around his shaft, gave it a stroke.

I want to fuck you, he said at last. She smiled.

I’ll make you a deal, she said. I’m not going to fuck you, but if you buy me a leather catsuit I won’t fuck him. Not until you tell me to.

They both sat there, surprised by the turn the day had taken.

Deal, he said. 

Its shiny against the linen sheets the outfit @restlesslibido

It’s shiny against the linen sheets, the outfit he’s selected for her to wear. The vinyl is a dark gray, the zippers gold, to match his family crest.

She is fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a silk robe, her hair wrapped damp in a towel. 

She will dry herself and her hair, turn off all the lights and light a candle, before returning to the bedside where her garments lie.

Loosening her robe, she will feel the air warm against her skin. The halter first, arms in through the straps, then zipper up the front, drawing it tight around her body. One leg, then the other, into the boyshorts, sliding them up over her hips until they are snugly in place, tight against her naked sex.

She will climb into bed then, arrange herself artfully, and take a photograph. His name, so familiar, in the address field. A moment later and it will be gone, off on its way to him, proof.

She will lie there, in her uniform, in his thrall, and wait with desperate impatience for him to return home and claim her.

She deserved punishment she knew that on @restlesslibido

She deserved punishment; she knew that.

On inspection this morning Madam had found a smudge on her boots. The rules were quite clear on this. There was no avoiding repercussion. An example must be set, a toll exacted, of Madam’s choosing.

So she brought herself to the main hall ten minutes before she’d been instructed to appear, placing her pointed toes precisely on the line in the floor, and waited.

It was an unusual experience to be standing on this side of the line, unusual and unpleasant.

She swallowed dryly when she heard the clinking links of the chain, the muffled grunting that could only mean one thing. The heavy oak door opened and Madam entered, a wry smile on her painted lips.

The beast behind her, foul, pudgy and pink, was utterly beneath her contempt. She averted her eyes. Madam brought it forward, compelled it toward her with a kick between the legs. From a slot in its mask extended a tongue. She was to be cleaned as her punishment, every inch of her touched with its lapping tongue, cock straining wetly in its leather pouch.

And then it would be allowed to pleasure itself, to free its cock and stroke it, to stare at her, grunting, tasting her, until it came, spraying its hot filth down the front of her leather skirt.

Madam tapped her heel once, meaningfully.

She unzipped her skirt, slid it down over her hips carefully, and laid it at Madam’s feet, before kneeling. She steeled herself with a breath, then lowered herself and began to lick.

Hands on her hips, a fat belly sliding on her back as his cock, hard again somehow, entered her. The piggie grunted as he pumped, pressing her face into the leather of her skirt, smearing cum over her face.

It would never be the same, she realized. She would always have the stink on her, inside her, in Madam’s eyes, piggie’s seed pumped into her like she was some common whore. 

This was the end, she realized. 

He buckles the collar tightly around her neck @restlesslibido

He buckles the collar tightly around her neck, tight enough never to let her forget that she has been claimed, that she belongs to him, that she is a slave.

He sucks her nipples into firmness then sets his wicked little clamps on them, adjusting the tension until she is wincing, until the moisture comes to her eyes.

He leaves her hands free, tells her not to touch, then leaves her and observes, unseen from afar.

Her hands lift from her waist. She is tempted. He will never know. Then she swallows and feels the leather tight around her throat. She lowers her hands from her chest, to between her legs. The chain shifts as she her body moves. Her breath goes deep and faster and her eyes close.

In the darkness of an unseen room he smiles.

I was foolish to be so free with her to loan her @restlesslibido

I was foolish to be so free with her, to loan her out and let her wander.

I did so because she had feral urges and I loved her, and loving her meant loving every part of her. I indulged those urges and she repaid that love by coming home every time to me, by bringing all of her experiences back to share.

He was wealthy and powerful and had an eye for quality. The particularities of our relationship were of no interest to him; all he knew was that something valuable was wandering unclaimed.

He was handsome and capable and bright, so he had no problem luring her within his grasp. And while she dozed after they’d found pleasure in each others’ bodies, he bound her neck and hands in the stainless steel harness he’d had made for her, hobbling her feet and chaining her, before tattooing his initials on her wrist.

He gave me an audience when I came for her but yielded nothing beyond. He brushed aside my claim with a wave of his hand, asking me whose mark she bore, knowing full well it was his own.

I asked her to speak in her own defense, to demand release. But his precision-crafted manacles had snared her fancies as tightly as her wrists. Never had she been claimed so resolutely, so forcefully, so undeniably. She could feel she belonged to him now, in her heart, and I compelled her to her feet to escape she walked to where he sat and knelt by his side.

I was foolish to be so free with her. But that’s over now.

She doesnt know what shes looking for not @restlesslibido

She doesn’t know what she’s looking for, not really.

She’s out browsing the racks, seeking inspiration, hoping she’ll know what she wants when she sees it.

He’s tall and handsome, with board shoulders and blue eyes and a deep voice that she wants to hear whisper things in scented darkness.

It’s not a date, not really, just two friends grabbing a bite before seeing a movie they both want to see. She’s not sure if there are the seeds of something more in him. There certainly are in her. She’s hoping she can find something hanging among all the zippers and shoulder straps to nudge things in that direction. Something difficult to ignore. 

Her hand comes to rest on a leather miniskirt, with a chrome zipper on each hip and a snap at the waist.

It’s nothing she’d think to wear otherwise, but now is not the time for sweatpants and slippers.

She holds it up to her waist, her eyes widening at how short it is. She imagines his eyes widening similarly and she heads immediately to the dressing room.

When she’s alone with it at last, she decides on impulse that if it fits she’s going to buy and wear it, as a way of forcing herself out of her comfort zone. No more fence-riding. It’s time for decisive action.

When she opens to the door, his mouth hangs slack for a moment, before he stammers a greeting and compliment.

She smiles and collects her purse.

She stretches out her legs and watches her muscles @restlesslibido

She stretches out her legs and watches her muscles flex beneath the taunt pleather.

She is transformed this way, still her but different, a different her. More her.

Wearing these pants makes her want to get him in a headlock and squeeze, until his face is as red as his cock, until he’s gasping and desperate, clawing at her powerful thighs helplessly.

She slides her hand down underneath her leggings, to where she’s hot and slick and wet, to the melting center of her. She watches her hand move and it is upon her, sudden and inescapable.

Its a narcotic for her seeing me tormented like @restlesslibido

It’s a narcotic for her, seeing me tormented like I am, drowning in my own lust, fixated on her with an unhealthy intensity.

She’s come to prefer it, the refined wine of my desperation, to sex itself, telling me as much but hope prevents me from hearing her, from believing her.

Stop, she says and she slides the silver zipper back up to the base of her throat. My hands shake above the wet mess of my crotch, away from release, as I breathe and try to calm my racing heart.

She smooths her hands over her skintight playsuit, her nipples hard beneath the buttery silver leather.

Maybe tomorrow, she sighs with a pout, but not even I am so deluded as to believe her.

She took her time in telling him its not that @restlesslibido

She took her time in telling him.

It’s not that she was keeping it a secret. She wanted to scream it into his neck the first time he made her cum, on their fourth date, her miniskirt up around her waist, two of his thick fingers deep inside her.

But she waited until the moment presented herself. 

This may seem sexy, she told him, but this isn’t sex.

It’s therapy. 

He listened carefully, clearly aware this was not just everyday pillow talk, but rather something much more valuable, something with which he was being entrusted.

Tell me what you want, he said after a respectful pause, after waiting to make sure she had nothing more to add. Be as specific as possible.

They shopped for the whip together, her hand clutching his tightly and sweating. When she held it for the first time, she burst into tears and nodded: This is the one.

The clerk nodded in return with gravity, doing holy work. 

Back at his apartment, she mounts the bed, pulling up her skirt and bending forward, placing her hands on the headboard, face hidden.

He does what he was told, exactly as he was told to do it, cruelly, unrelenting, deaf to her racking sobs. Her pale flesh reddens in splayed stripes. He can smell the wetness of her sex.

Her hand slips from the headboard, her signal. He stops immediately and backs out, turning off the light and closing the door behind him.

When she emerges later, she is low-lidded with a lazy smile, and grateful as though lifted from a sinking sea.

I have a theory she announces after ive closed @restlesslibido

I have a theory, she announces after I’ve closed her apartment door behind me. She emerges from her bedroom in a bathrobe, with her face arranged in a smile. And I want to test it out. You game?

Sure, I say, joining her in the bedroom. What’s your theory?

She shakes her head. 

Close your eyes, she says and I comply. I feel her hands at my belt, loosening it.

I like this theory, I chuckle. She laughs, then shushes me.

Her hands unfasten my pants and lets them drop, then tugs down my boxers. My cock is halfway erect at the strangeness of the scenario, at the mysterious hint of sex that hangs in the air.

I wait for a moment.

Is that it? I ask.

I’m waiting for you to calm down, she says with a laugh.

Another moment passes and at last the blood drains and my cock hangs limp. After another moment I hear her bathrobe drop to the floor and the mattress springs squeak.

Open your eyes, she says.

She sits perched at the edge of the bed in a snug black blouse and calf-length pencil skirt in glossy pink latex. My mouth is a desert and my cheeks flush crimson. My cock is erect and rock-hard. She smiles.

Excellent, she says and she lies back on the bed. That’s all I needed to know.

The drugs have made her pliant suggestible he @restlesslibido

The drugs have made her pliant, suggestible.

He leads her forward to the padded stool and whispers instructions in her ear, and she watches herself place first one knee, then the other, up on it.

He keeps a little tension on the silk cord looped around the cuffs binding her wrists, just a touch, as one would on a leash with a dog, to convey power and control.

He has dressed her in a sideless gown of plaited leather straps. It winds down between her thighs, brushing agonizingly against her bare sex. Just as the drugs began taking effect on her, after she’d spent an hour in the calming machine, he’d implanted the suggestion in her subconscious that the smell of his cologne would bring her the edge of an orgasm and keep her there, that his touch was electric, that she was wet for him always.

There was little she could do to resist.

She slumped back against him, breathing in deeply, and clenched her thighs together, her gown bunching maddeningly in between.

She was his, completely. She didn’t even dare think of escape, only of taking him inside her in every way he deigned to permit, of finding further ways of yielding to him.

The sun was setting and we were dancing when they @restlesslibido

The sun was setting and we were dancing when they arrived.

The first thing to go was the music. One moment we were bathed in a lush melody and the next there was nothing but the sounds of the birds overhead.

We looked up and slowly became aware of their number, standing shoulder to shoulder, just beyond the range of the bulbs strung overhead, the polished tips of their jackboots shining in the shadows.

A column of them marched down the center of the lawn, pushing women to one side and men to the other, forcing both groups into a line, facing the far end of the lawn.

There, they removed valuables and anything that could be used as a weapon, before locking on a harness and flash-tattooing a barcode onto the right shoulder.

There was no chance for escape. We both knew that now.

She stands in front of the bed waiting the metal @restlesslibido

She stands in front of the bed, waiting.

The metal links connecting the cuffs tick quietly as she shifts her weight from one leg to the other.

He will be in shortly.

Her husband is a successful businessman with @restlesslibido

Her husband is a successful businessman, with money to burn.

I am taller than he is, by a fair margin, and white, with piercing blue eyes and blonde hair. 

I am what he imagines when he imagines an American. I am who he sees when he reads about American solders challenging his countrymen in the South China Sea with their superior technology, dominating and shaming his beloved homeland.

He dresses his wife in a custom-tailored hand-tooled leather corset, in silk stockings and kidskin gloves, in a necklace of conch pearls and a sable coat and wicked steel-tipped stilettos. 

I wear dress whites.

He has his wife bind my hands with barbed wire and beat me with a lacquered crop. He has her cut away my uniform slacks with a platinum blade and lock my balls across my thighs behind me. He has her kick me, until my knees fold and I crumble to the floor of the lavish penthouse suite he has rented for the occasion.

He has her spit on his cock and then he fucks me in the ass.

He would kill me but not even he has that much money.

The moment he is finished he is in a towncar, heading to the airport, for a business class flight back to Beijing.

I extract the modest suitcase, finished in aluminum, from under the bed where it was placed when he first arrived and count the bills within out into neat piles on the pale carpet. 

In preparation she is stripped and bound to the @restlesslibido

In preparation she is stripped and bound to the table, a gag forced into her mouth. 

She struggles against her bindings but it is no use.

She will be a different woman when the straps are unfastened, the woman they want her to be. 

She sends me a picture of her in the outfit shes @restlesslibido

She sends me a picture of her in the outfit she’s chosen to wear tonight, just in case I’m getting cold feet.

Later we will meet at a bar, her beaming and kissing me in between cocktails, taking my hand and placing it on her thigh, before sliding it down between.

And when she can’t wait any longer, she’ll lead me across the street, her heels clicking on the cobblestones, and usher me into the store.

She’s already picked out what she wants for me, a simple silver barbell in my right nipple. When that heals she will have it replaced with a loop of silver, her initials etched into the ball that joins the ends together. 

She’s already spoken with the owner about making it permanent, soldering the ball to the loop so it can never come out but she hasn’t mentioned it to me yet. She’s decided she won’t until it’s too late to do anything about, until it’s done.

She explained to the owner that it’s not just a piercing, but rather an owner’s mark, that once it’s in me I will belong, body and soul, to her.

She guides me to the chair and pushes me down into it, pulling up her vinyl skirt to straddle me. She asks the owner if she can suck my cock while he does the piercing. He draws the black leather curtain across the doorway and dims the lights.

He waits, per her instruction, until I am moaning, until my balls tighten up beneath me and she braces herself, to push the needle through my flesh.

In gratitude she swallows everything I pump into her, swallowing and sucking until my cock is soft and I am empty, until my breathing slows and my chest is still, newly marked and shining.

She hadnt seen the trap until it was too late @restlesslibido

She hadn’t seen the trap until it was too late.

There was the sound of compressed gas and the bolo snared her, drawing her legs together, until she faltered and dropped to her knees.

The sound came again almost immediately and another bolo coiled around her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. 

A third hiss and taser darts, crackling blue, buried themselves in her flesh and stunned her into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she knew immediately things were worse. Her uniform, with its modest cut and patriotic colors, had been replaced by a tawdry imitation in skintight latex, with a strict corset and lace-up knee boots. 

Sturdy leather cuffs had been buckled around her wrists and arms, her waist and thighs, her calves and ankles, and linked by chain to the metal frame around her, preventing all but the slightest movement.

A collar of similar design had been fastened around her neck, chains at either side holding her head in position. 

Her utility belt, the source of her power, was nowhere to be seen.

Voices came from another room and suddenly there where able men surrounding her, tilting up the metal frame, her dangling helplessly in the center, caught in a spider’s web. They elevated the frame until she was vertical, holding her there as the door opened again.

She figured it was him the moment she’d heard the compressed gas, her arch nemesis, a criminal mastermind with a flair for the mechanically dramatic.

He walked once around her, running an admiring hand across her flesh, before coming to a stop in front of her and smiling.

Yes, he said, I expect you will fetch quite a price. 

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”.