Can?
Can meaning be found in the company of another?
Can that company affect your outlook on life?
Can the Divine be seen whilst staring into a lover’s eyes?
Can the beauty and grace of creation be reflected by mortals?
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Can?
Can meaning be found in the company of another?
Can that company affect your outlook on life?
Can the Divine be seen whilst staring into a lover’s eyes?
Can the beauty and grace of creation be reflected by mortals?
Twisted Ropes
“Oh! Three. Another please Sir.” Her voice was shaky, her body already asking why she had agreed to this ordeal. The whip came lashing across her back once more, the leather tendrils wrapping around her body to lick at the soft skin of her belly. “Four. Another. Please. Sir.” The words were wrung out of her, each one more troublesome than the last.
Paige Argennais was now the property of another. She had agreed to give herself fully to Mr Harry Geldman and he was her Master. The arrangement was new, Paige had only been in service to Mr Geldman for a week. She had grown bored with her life as an unfulfilled trophy wife for one of the most successful investment bankers in Northwest America. She’d been turned on to an erotic story website by her over-sexed sister, and one thing had led to another. If Carmen could see her older sister now, naked and suspended from the ceiling of this grimy basement by chains that shackled her delicate wrists… needless to say even the more adventurous Argennais sister would be shocked.
“Do you think four lashes of my whip is enough to atone for your sin you dirty whore?” Asked Harry, letting the leather run through his fingers absentmindedly.
“Nnn— No?” She had no idea what was appropriate. What punishment was normally doled out for entering the Master’s study unbidden? Still, his tone and the way he had acted over the last week certainly suggested that she could consider herself very fortunate if her punishment was at an end.
“Good. You are learning. I shall halve your punishment and only deliver ten blows with the whip this night.” He spoke in that same slightly stilted manner, as if he had learned that English was made up of a strict set of rules and regulations rather than a fluid, evolving and richly diverse language. She loved to read, and it was her passion for books that had led her wandering feet to his study in the first place. She’d been in awe of the rows of bookshelves, with such tantalising titles as Elementary Bondage and Sadism as Art. It was clear that her new Master was both a well educated man and took his calling as a ‘top’ very seriously.
She writhed but tried to hold back the tears as the remaining six blows lashed against her body, raising welts but not breaking the skin. He had yet to make her bleed and she was thankful for that… at least she thought she was. When he had finished she was left to sway and pant, recovering, for nearly half an hour while he retreated upstairs. She was just beginning to wonder if he was going to have her hang there for the rest of the evening when he returned. He was carrying several items but held them from her view.
“Now that the punishment is finished with, perhaps it is time for some more education?” His words brought a shiver to her body, his idea of ‘education’ generally involved pushing her body to limits she didn’t previously know she had. She was learning about new things alright, though she doubted any of her former teachers would consider this a continuation of their work. That thought tickled her and she struggled to contain a laugh. Fortunately it didn’t seem that Harry had noticed the small shake of her lips and she breathed a sigh of relief before remembering that she hadn’t answered him. He tended not to like that.
“Yes Sir, I would very much like to continue my education. Thank you Sir.” It was amazing how quickly and easily her speech had become peppered with that word: ‘Sir.’ Paige had used it so rarely since her days at boarding school, and now she was once again using it on a daily basis. It was somehow comforting to have that authority back in her life and she was truly glad of her decision to enter his service.
He nodded his head and gave a small private smile as she agreed to the continuation of her ‘studies.’ She was turning out to be a most capable student and he did so enjoy their lesson time. Taking the small nipple clamps in hand first he held them to her eyes.
“Do you remember these pet?” He asked sternly, certain that she would remember both the devices and the incredible mixture of pain and pleasure they were capable of eliciting from her body. Paige simply nodded, eyes wide with a mixture of fear, anticipation and secret delight. In truth the clamps were amongst the most tame of the devices that Harry had used on her in the seven days since she had pledged herself to him. Despite their relatively gentle nature though she still sucked in a shaky breath through tightly clenched teeth, wincing as he attached them to the hardened points of her nipples. They had been like bullets from the first lash of the whip. Harry made sure the clamps were nice and tight and gave each a small tug before he moved back to the small pile of items he’d brought downstairs.
“A true slave should be able to maintain any position that her Master asks, and should do so with pride. I’ve noticed a tendency for your head to droop during our sessions and this next piece will correct that error.” Harry intoned, every bit the school master from her expensive private school of over twenty years ago. He stood from his crouch and brought the broad posture collar into her vision. It had to be at least six inches tall and would definitely stretch her small neck. Expertly he held her head in position, high and proud, as he wrapped the collar around her neck. Locking it in place with a small padlock she could feel her simple metal band rubbing against the leather, reminding her that she was now twice-collared to this fascinating man.
There was no way for her to see what would be coming next, even if doing so hadn’t been an infraction of the rules she was bound by. The collar prevented her from moving her neck at all, and if she tried to cast her eyes downward all she saw was a cross eyed view of her own nose. It was therefore by feeling alone that she was able to identify the next item - a spreader bar that was locked to each ankle. She had worn ankle bracelets since the first day she arrived, which had also been the last day she had worn clothing. The bar pushed her legs out to an uncomfortable angle and she let out the tiniest sound of discomfort which earned a hard slap to each inner thigh. She thirsted for one of the gags he occasionally used on her, so she might have something to bite into. No such relief seemed forthcoming though.
With her eyes basically useless at this point she was forced to try and use her other senses and so she picked up the faint buzzing sound of the vibrator before she felt it slide up her leg. It was only at this point, as the toy neared her sex, that she realised just how turned on she was. She gulped as it dawned on her that she wanted nothing more in that moment than to have a hard cock (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) between her legs. She hadn’t orgasmed since the evening of her arrival. Harry seemed to prefer to torment her with long sessions during which he built her state of arousal and then denied her release. She salivated at the prospect of him simply plunging the vibe into her depths and ploughing her with it until she screamed and bucked against it. He might even fuck her.
“Look how wet you are! Just from a little whipping and some teasing. You’re such a filthy whore, I bet you’re absolutely desperate to come aren’t you?” His words were driving her just as wild as the way he ran the vibrator along her lips, still teasing her. Damn him.
“Yes! Please! Master, please fuck me! Fuck me with that toy like the whore I am and make me scream! PLEASE!” She begged him, willing to risk a beating for speaking out of turn. She needed him too much in that moment to care. But still he didn’t grant her wish, moving the toy to her clit and playing it around some. “Oh god! Please Master! Please take me! Please. Please. Please!” She couldn’t take this anymore, her chest heaving as she sucked in heavy breaths between her almost sobbing pleas. Those deep breaths caused her nipple clamps to dance and pull harder on the sensitive nubs, which only served to heighten her desire.
Finally Harry placed just the tip of the long and slim vibe into her entrance, less than two inches inside her. It wasn’t what she wanted but it was something and she tried to buck her hips and use her muscles to pull it harder. All to no avail. He was still denying her and she loved and hated him for it in equal measure. Slowly, too slowly, he fed the vibe into her hungry cunt and moved a hand round to squeeze and slap at her ass. Breathing still ragged and mind reeling with chemicals from the lust and pain that wracked her body she murmured incomprehensibly, desperate to encourage him. Gradually he began to thrust the toy in and out of her, and she began to build toward a climax.
“Remember the first rule of our agreement now slave. You may not come without my permission.” He reminded her and she tried to nod, the posture collar preventing her from doing so. She cried out, a word that could have been yes. Harry chuckled darkly as he wondered idly whether she was agreeing with him or just lost to the sensations of her body. He began to fuck her harder with the vibe and brought his hand to her dripping slot, collecting some of her juices. He used these as lube to probe at her tight asshole and moved his face to her cunt, circling her clit with his tongue. “Don’t come yet.” He murmured against her before sucking her clit between his plush lips.
She was on the path to Nirvana, climbing Jacob’s Ladder on unsteady legs. But she knew that St. Peter, as Harry had become in her eyes, wouldn’t grant her entrance easily. She would be kept panting and writhing, moaning at the gates until he decided she was finally allowed in. But how she wanted that, how she needed that feeling of bliss to spread throughout her body, to radiate from her core. Still he denied her, and he was crueler than Peter for he had denied her more than thrice. On this, their seventh night, would he allow her to experience that same ecstasy that had indentured her to him in the first place?
Holding her clit between his teeth he flicked his tongue savagely across the bundle of nerves, using shallow strokes of the vibe to ensure the fire between her legs never dulled. After what seemed like an epoch to Paige he finally let her button loose with a lewd pop. Standing he thrust the vibe in and out of her harder and faster as he leaned into her ear. “Come. Come for me slut. Come now and come hard.”
———SERVER FAILURE——— We are sorry but there has been a software error, please contact your VR Game Experience Representative to resolve this matter. ———SERVER FAILURE———
Jane Morrison, the real life player behind the virtual creation that was Paige Argennais let out a frustrated grunt as the sensations fell away from her body. She had been right there, on the precipice and about to barrel over. In the game, she was finally going to come and come buckets. But the game worked using mental probes and without the sensations provided by the computer there was nothing. She only felt frustration at the memory of manufactured sensations. Stupid fucking shitty piece of crap. She hurriedly unstrapped herself from the virtual reality machine and stormed over to the pimply faced attendant.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” She screamed at him, slamming her fist against the plexiglass. “Just what in the hell do you have to say for yourself?” He was stammering, muttering something about a refund. “I don’t want a fucking refund! A refund isn’t going to get me off!” He blushed beet red. It had been pretty clear what scenario she’d been playing out, but to have her openly admit it like that still embarrassed the kid.
“Madam, all I can do is apologise and assure you that every effort is made to avoid these failures. Of course we shall give you a full refund and a free game for you and a friend.” He was stammering and offering a lot more than he was authorised to, but he really didn’t want her taking this further up the ladder - his boss had enough trouble with this batch of machines. Banging open the register he counted out her money and thrust it through the gap below the window.
“Free game? What, so I can be disappointed again? Fuck that!” She seethed, grabbing the money angrily and storming from the building. She’d have been better off getting a god-damn escort…
Across the globe the player of Harry Geldman was just as irate with his ‘VR Game Experience Representative.’
This Pride, don’t forget about us
Don’t forget the trans folk who want to pass but struggle.
Yes absolutely, them too.
She used to be a track star, she even went to college on scholarship and almost made the olympics but none of that made her happy. All she wanted was to submit and make someone happy. So when she met sir and he offered to change her into the perfect pretty bimbo dolly, she agreed and dropped out of school. The huge fake tits he made her get means she could never compete again even if she wanted too. They get in the way and throw off her balance and hurt if she runs. But they make him hard, and that makes her happy.
I am indeed calling yall cuties out for doing this 🧸
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They were going to break her. Caroline knew it from the first time they pressed the button, from the moment that the surge of hot, tingling pleasure shot up from her clit and almost forced her to her knees with its intensity. Her resistance was a mere formality, she realized in that instant. She could fight - she would fight - but she had already lost. In fact, if what the woman in blue said was true, she had already lost before she even woke up this morning.
“It’s a small device.” She would always remember the cold, clinical tone in the woman’s voice as she delivered the news. “Delivered in the middle of the night by an autonomous robot no larger than a mouse. It hit you with a little puff of anesthetic gas to make sure you wouldn’t wake up and crawled under your panties, and it implanted the device surgically with a tiny little incision the size of a pinprick - between the sleep and the anesthesia, you wouldn’t have felt a thing. The device was inserted into your clitoris, and now it interfaces with your nerves and stimulates them on command. Like so.” And she pressed the button.
And Caroline came. Just like that, no preliminaries, no foreplay, just an instant and powerful orgasm that made her body sag against the wall as her muscles lost control under the onslaught of sensory overload. The woman in blue held down the button for what felt like almost a full minute, and that minute felt like a tiny eternity to Caroline - there was no escaping the pleasure, no ignoring it. Every nerve in her clit simply lit up with sensation and coredumped the entirety of its capacity to feel into Caroline’s brain. By the time the woman in blue let up, Caroline was shaking and whimpering.
“I’d like you to take your shirt off, please,” the woman in blue said coolly. “If you do, I’ll press the button again.” She sat in Caroline’s easy chair, her stare filled with a terrible patience. Caroline wasn’t watching her eyes, though. Caroline was looking at the button. Caroline was staring at the button like a mouse stares at a cobra, watching the way that the blue fingernail rested on it, noticing every tiny flex and shift of the muscles in that finger. Trying not to think about what would happen if she did as the woman in blue asked. Trying not to think about how good it would feel.
“I could take it away,” Caroline said, trying to sound defiant but only managing a sullen petulance in her voice.
The woman in blue smirked. “And if you did, you’d only press the button again, and I’d pry the remote out of your hand while you lay on the floor moaning. Shirt off, please. And the bra as well, let’s get that out of the way.”
Slowly, with agonized reluctance, Caroline pulled her shirt over her head and unhooked her bra. She had just enough presence of mind to sit down on the couch before the woman in blue pressed the button. This time, it was two minutes of climax. Caroline surfaced from it barely even remembering her own name.
“Good girl,” the woman in blue said, in a voice that suggested that praise didn’t come easily to her. “Now the pants and socks, please. You can leave the panties on for now, we’ll get to those eventually.” Caroline looked into those eyes and saw no mercy, no compassion. Only the implacable desire to train Caroline into compliance. Caroline wanted to beg her to stop, wanted to plead for her freedom from this sudden and inexplicable assault on her will… but she knew in the end that all she would beg for was another press of the button. Whoever the woman in blue was, whoever she represented… they were going to break her. And she was going to love every second of it. With a defeated sigh, Caroline removed the rest of her clothing and waited for the next dose of mindless bliss.
(Like this flash fiction? Want to see more? Visit www.patreon.com/Jukebox to find out how!)
It had all started out innocently enough... a little flirting with the handsome son of the family she was woking for. Things had escalated so quickly though, and now she found herself bound on his bed, nibbling on her bottom lip as she waited for his next move.
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gymbunnyamber:
Hard body, soft mind.
You will remember to forget and forget to remember.
You will obey.
You will keep your body tone and your mind numb.
You listen to your instructor.
You will help spread the word to others.
You are now a cog in the machine.
Caetlyn.
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