the life and musings of a kinky slut



I arrived to the party late, long after everyone had passed their sober threshold, whether through alcohol or the endorphines of play.

The front door was open. This was a calm affluent neighborhood, no threat of any interruptions. Quietly creeping in the door, I took off my shoes, but then decided to disrobe, removing my work clothes, leaving just my panties and bra on.

Slowly slinking through the hallway, I heard voices coming from, what I assumed, was the living room. I strained to gather their conversation.

“Kitty!” Anna, one of the home owners, saw me. “You made it.”

“Came as soon as I got off work.”

I stepped into the room and saw about half a dozen of my friends, all in various stages of undress. Anna popped up and hurried over to hug me. Her body was warm against my autumn weather tempered skin. I made my way around the room, embracing each person, but someone was missing.

“Where’s Jesse?”

“Around,” Lena, his Mistress, said, a wry smile on her face.

“Hmm. Well, I’m gonna go explore. I’ll be back.”

I stepped out into the hallway and continued my adventure.

Just past the living room, I came upon the dining room, a spread of finger foods gracing a large wooden table. I ate a grape and moved on.

Softly stepping, I once again heard chatting, this time from the kitchen. Sneaking a peek, I saw a few more of my friends, drinking and flirting. Terence had his hands on Tina’s hips, lightly squeezing at the boney clefts. Tina rested her head on his chest, but still held eye contact with Kevin, keeping up conversation as best as she could, while distracted.

Walking back down the hall, I made my way up the staircase at the center of the house. Taking each step with care, I peeked my head just above the base of the second floor, peering through the slots in the railing.

A door to a nearby bedroom was ajar. There, I found him, hard at work.

Cilia stood, her hands resting against the wall, dressed in just fish nets and a thong. He loomed behind her, surveying her body, deciding where he would land what I assumed was his first blow.

I loved the look on his face, a mixture of concentration and glee. His smile was disarming. He wore his rugby jersey, cargo shorts, and boots. He held his cricket bat on his shoulder, thinking.

Jesse was one of the first people I met when I found the scene, just three years ago. Jesse wasn’t British, but he liked the rough play of rugby, and the bruising pain he unleashed with his cricket bat. It was something different, imaginative, his own, and quite a conversation starter.

I found Jesse disarming from the first time I met him to this very moment. There’s just this look in his eyes that captures me, pulls me in. His obvious appealing features made him alluring: strong arms, muscular legs, broad chest, and a tight flat stomach. He gave harder than he got Saturday mornings, tearing around in the mud. But it was his BDSM play, his demeanor, his mind, that made him utterly undeniable to me. And yet, I could never make myself tell him so.

Thwack! Jesse landed his first blow, I guessed at about half power, right across Cilia’s ass. She jumped, squeeled, and rested back into position, letting the pain surge through her. I’d seen Cilia take pain before. I’d seen her take Jesse’s strokes. Neither knew I watched now, though. I relished viewing them when they thought no one was looking.

Thwack! Another hit, this time at about seventy percent. Their progression was faster than normal. I wondered if Cilia was in a heavy mood or if Jesse wanted to inflict a lot of pain quickly.

Thwack! Ninety percent. It was almost time for the money shot. Cilia’s body shook, her head down, leaning against the wall. She spouted Spanish, cursing in her native tongue, screaming at an imaginery person standing in her cleavage.

“Are you ready?”

“Si!” Cilia spat the word at Jesse, anger obvious even through her accent.

“You sure?”

“Just do it, tu hijo de punta.”

Thwack! Full power; the sound crackled in the air. Cilia screamed, dropping to one knee, her hands sliding down the wall as she went. She rested the side of her head against her wrist, heaving breaths spewing out her exhaustion. I stared at her, watching her body’s reaction to Jesse’s stimuli.

After a moment, I glanced back at where he stood. Our eyes locked for a split second before I instinctively dipped my head down. My back against the wall, my breath quickened. Had he seen me? Of course he did. Shit.

I decided to wait, play it off. Cilia quickly came around the corner, mumbling more Spanish. I tried to speak to her, but she was somewhere else. I walked up the stairs, pretending like the last minute had not happened. I turned and looked into the bedroom. Jesse was packing his toy bag, his back to me.

“Hi Jesse.”

“Hello Kitty.” We both chuckled a bit, our repetative inside joke always amusing.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Shit, he did see me.

“You do good work.”

“This I know. No need for you to sneak around. Neither of us would’ve minded your watching.”

“But I wanted to see you when you thought no one was looking.”

I let myself meander around the room, mentally noting the furnishings: a large lounging sac in the middle of the room, a short lamp on an end table by the far wall with a scarf over its shade, and a closet, it’s door slightly open, a light on inside.

“What’s in the closet?”

“Oh, that? That’s the fuck closet.”

“What!?!” I scurried over to look. Filling the entire floor was a queen sized air mattress. “Wow, a fuck closet.”

I felt the push a split second before my head hit the mattress. My body bounced once before he flipped me onto my back. He was over me, his hand on my throat, his eyes locked on mine.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve played.  What, two years?  Why is that?” His grip was just light enough to let a squeak of a voice escape.

“Don’t. Know.”

“Yes, you do. Why haven’t you asked to play with me?”

“Be. Cause.”

“Because? Oh, Kitty. You’ve seen me work. In fact, I think you love watching me work. I notice you in the Dungeon, lurking in dark corners, thinking you’re invisible to me. But I see you, even when I’m not looking at you. I felt your eyes on me before I glanced at you tonight. My look was more of a courtesy than a revelation.

“Now, Kitty, why do you watch, but not ask? Why haven’t we played in so long?”

“I. I.”

“You. You. You what!?!”

“ILikeYou!” It came out as a scratchy scream, a secret I kept even from myself. And now, it was there, lying next to me on the mattress, naked and splayed wide.

“Now, was that so hard?” He released my neck, stood, and left my field of vision. I took a few deep breaths, but then didn’t know what to do. With a lack of options, either stay on the mattress or stand up, I stood.

He was suddenly in front of me, his face no more than a few inches from mine. My breath caught in my throat. Gripping my hair, he pressed his lips hard against mine. I strained to breathe as we kissed. And kissed. And kissed. His free hand found my ass, wreached under my panties, and squeezed hard. My arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him in close.

And just as quick, he pushed me back down on the mattress, this time merely looking down at me.

“Out of courtesy, just so that you know, I knew you liked me. And I like you, too.”

He flicked the light switch off and slammed the door.

“No!” I screamed, scrambling around, trying to find the knob. He held the door closed. I beat, banged, punched on the wood. “Let me out!” I cried, sobbed. “Let me out!” Jesse knew I loathed, hated, gutterly feared the dark.

“Please, Jesse. Please let me out!”  Tears streamed down my face, tickling my neck. I kicked at the door, threw my body against it. “Jesse! Jesse! Please!”

My limbs, my flesh, my bones ached, but it barely registered beyond my unending need to get the fuck out of that closet.

“Please. Please.” Exhausted, scared beyond measure, I held myself, my arms wrapped around my chest, while still banging with my shoulder, or fruitlessly kicking. “Please. Please.” My cries were pitiful, meek.

“Why should your Daddy let you out? You’ve been a bad bad girl, keeping secrets from him for so long. I don’t want a bad girl. What Daddy ever would? I want a good girl. Will you be my good girl?”

“Yes. Anything.  Anything for you Jesse.”

“Anything, who?”

“Anything for you, Daddy. I will do anything for you if you let me out.”

Jesse caught me as he opened the door, my body falling into his arms. I continued to cry as he carried me to the sac. He laid me down, stroking my hair, holding me tight.  I found some comfort in his warmth against me.

“That’s my good girl. That’s my good girl. Shh, it’s alright. Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s right here. Daddy will protect you. No one will ever hurt my good girl.”

Categorised as: D/s | Erotica

Comments are disabled on this post

Comments are closed.