Secrets Unfolded

If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be. One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries.

For Divine Infinity

“In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice. Your body is the church where Nature asks to be reverenced.”

Docile Slumber

It is always by way of pain one arrives at pleasure.
Lust is to the other passions what the nervous fluid is to life; it supports them all, lends strength to them all ambition, cruelty, avarice, revenge, are all founded on lust. Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes.

A Kaleidoscope Of Indescressions

Sitting alone under a bridge. Haven't eaten for days. Can't even get it Up! I see myself as a Waitress in a skintight black silk Chinese long dress. Split open at the thighs. Scarlet high heels, purple lipstick, dark eye shadow - Utterly ravishing! Ninety obese pompous prosperous gentlemen. Splendidly dressed. Smooth skinned, pink cheeked, trim haired moustaches beards. All drool at me. Making my ass feel hot and my pussy dripping wet. And in their bulging eyes I see Lust, greed, power, sex, food, lobsters, buns, cocks... That really turns me on! I glide along sinuously ogling at them "Here is one chopstick. Sir I shall get you another one." "We made this dish Especially for You!" "Is there anything else That I can do for you Exalted one?" Oh, Daddies Oh............

Your Seduction

I see your soul lying asleep
Naked
Vulnerable

Amorously I creep closer
And whisper tender loving words
Spouting erotic poetry

Flashing indecent images
Giving a tantalizing taste of the
Forbidden
Fruit

As your psyche is
Drunk
With the divine

I penetrate it stealthily
Deeply
Devilishly sowing the sordid seeds
Of my unique
Perversity.

Pain Is But An Echo Of Her Soul

Just Another Day In Purgatory

A Slave-A Mistress-A Want-A Yearning

The slave has got to follow the rules and there is no way he can escape punishment if he does something wrong, this time he has to lick the toes of his mistress…

My dedication was rather ordinary. Now I was not a free person but a THING.

- That is all you can wear from now on, slave! – Helen smiled. – Though I sometimes don’t want to see you around with your bare butt.

I sighed realizing my Mistress had very strict and tough rules and even a tiny disobedience would be followed by punishment. But she also let me understand that she could punish me for no reason at all, just for her pleasure. It was the very thing that frightened me and made me think of her as a real Master instead of a person of an equal status. My Mistress could act in the way she wanted, according to her mood and could lash me or make up a new, more humiliating punishment. The girl was uncompromising. It meant that if she wanted something there was no way of begging her to change her mind, for you could make it even worse…

I was just a thing for her, like a sofa she liked sitting on. And of course she didn’t feel sorry for her things and thinking I was special for her was meaningless…

- There won’t be any traces left on your body, don’t worry about it! – Helen reassured me. – But don’t relax! I can give you the works that won’t seem to you little! No one will know about our game except for my friends, - the girl smiled. – Anyway, I’m not going to ask for your permission… Do you like to obey women?

- Yes, I do, my lady…

- Very well. I need no more from you. You are not to decide how to be helpful. And don’t forget about my rules! I hate repeating twice! – She reminded it strictly.

- Of course, my Lady…

- Perfect! – Helen concluded. – I think now you understand very well who is in front of you!

I had no doubts about it anymore having talked to her even the first ten minutes.

- Now you are deprived of any rights and I give orders here! – My Mistress decided to repeat it once again. – When you are here your existence and behavior depend on me. I even control your thoughts, you may not conceal anything from me, slave!

And again I had no doubts about it.

Suddenly the telephone rang. Saying nothing to me Helen rose and moved to the phone. I kept on standing in the same humiliating position on my fours. Of course, the girl wasn’t going to change her way of life and habits because of me. She would live in the way she liked and do whatever she wanted.

Time passed too slowly for me. I didn’t hear what Helen was chatting about. I had to wait when she would resume the conversation with me. And I waited… It was unusual for me to have a Mistress-slave relationship…

- Turn round and lie on your back! – My Mistress required when she returned a few minutes later.
I obeyed and was lying waiting watchfully. With no words she sat on the sofa and parted her legs. She put her right foot on my face and the left one – on my cock pressing it. My penis was not interesting for her as the girl had plenty of other ways to enjoy herself.

Watching my reaction my Lady stretched her hand and squeezed my nipple a bit. I wrinkled my face being afraid even to give a squeak…

- You’re rather sensitive, slave. It will be even funnier and more amusing for me! – She said.

Her foot was on my face and she was moving it as if massaging me.

- What are you thinking about, slave? – Helen asked.

What could I think about at that time? Nothing… I was nude, felt helpless with this girl and she knew it. And the most important thing for me was that I didn’t know what she would do at the next moment…

- My friend has just called… - She decided to tell me. – You know, her husband is a very interesting person. Both of them are thirty and they have been married for ten years. And all this time he is a slave for her. Can you imagine? – Helen smiled. – And I have another friend who treats her men worse than animals! Yes, she treats them no better than dogs. It’s funny to look at! She trains them so well that they even bark if she wants. And she fucks them pretty often. When they are well-trained she gives them away. The choice of trained men of hers is huge! Can you imagine yourself in this role? – Helen grinned and squeezed my nipple tighter.

I moaned trying to bear the pain. I don’t know why she told that to me: to frighten me or remind again who I was for her…

- I’m more careful with my things, - my Mistress pronounced having me in her mind. – So, don’t think you are special! You have to prove you are worth lying here under my feet!

- Yes, of course, my Lady… I’ll do whatever you want… - I could barely say that from under Helen’s foot.

- If you disappoint me… - The girl continued threatening though she knew I wasn’t going to do that. – I’ll sell you or present to a couple and then you’ll be in trouble… - She laughed.

- No, please!.. I’ll do everything for you!

My will was ruined. She needed just an hour to override me, to make a submissive slave from me.

When she saw her words had the right effect on me she relaxed and looked at me condescendingly…

- And you have to remember one more thing, slave! – She said in a serious voice. – I don’t like when my rules are not followed. You shouldn’t forget who you are even for a second! For example, have you seen the rug near my door in the corridor? This is your place! If I don’t need you, or you have no task or maybe I don’t want to see you, I’ll tell you to go to your place and you should go there and wait as long as it is needed! Until I call you! By the way, if you misbehave you’ll sleep there, too! And it is not the worst place, believe me! Well, what else… Aha, I hate it when someone touches my possessions. Everything you see here is holy for you! And if you dare to break this rule and I learn about it you’ll be severely punished…

My Mistress was telling me about more and more rules and requirements. I knew I had to take that seriously. She didn’t joke when she spoke with this intonation. I was listening to all of this lying on my back absolutely naked and feeling her both feet on me…

- The next thing… - she continued, - you should be patient! I know it is not easy but you’ll get used to it, I’m sure. If I’m in bad mood or busy you can stand on your knees all evening as an item which I don’t need at the moment! – Helen grinned.

The girl didn’t have to stop each time to hear my consent with her rules. She was telling that as a verdict not being interested in her slave’s opinion, whether he liked it or not.

- There is something else… - My Mistress was in no hurry. She decided to explain everything to her slave once and then forget about it. – If I say “Sleep” you should sleep! If I don’t want to sleep you don’t sleep, too, slave! You are my possession and should be at my disposal at any minute. When I wake up in the morning you should be awake already. If I see you’re sleeping you’ll have problems! When I wake up I want to see my thing near me and ready to be used! I don’t like awkwardness! If I wake up because of you, you’ll be punished! My sleep for you is sacred! If you get up you should sit and wait for your Mistress to wake up. In the morning… - Helen became thoughtful for a moment. – You’ll greet me on your knees, your chest pressed to the floor, arms stretched and crossed, forehead on your arms and face down. It is in case if you are not punished and can do that. – The girl smiled slyly. – And your punishment depends on you, slave! Do you remember all I said?

- Yes, my Lady, I replied.

- Fine. If you behave well you’ll be OK! When you are allowed to speak, your voice should be quiet and respectful. You can admire me and pay compliments to me. But I hate excessive flatter, respect and lie! If I notice you doing that I’ll punish you! – Helen couldn’t stop pronouncing the word “punishment” as she wanted her slave to grasp it better. She didn’t doubt that if she punished me at least once I would become very obedient and try to avoid another punishment in any way. – This is far from the end, slave! – Helen smiled when she saw her slave’s face.

I tried to memorize every detail. I realized that this strict girl’s rules were new laws of life for me and she would not be patient if I break any of her rules. I wasn’t allowed even to sneeze without her permission…

- Now let’s speak about your everyday duties! – My Lady continued. – You have to take care of my footwear. If I want to put on something and see the shoes are dirty you’ll pay a dear price for it, slave! I hope I don’t need to explain to you how your Mistress’s footwear should look?

- No, my Lady… – I uttered.

- Excellent! You’ll have a lot to do and no time for rest! – She grinned. - If I leave you with me for a night the maximum you can do is to sleep near my feet. But you have to work hard to deserve that! Or probably you prefer to sleep in the closet, slave? – She joked.

- Oh, no!.. – I answered quickly being horrified of such a prospect.

- Let’s see. Anyway, it is for me to decide! – Helen said adamantly. – Now let’s speak about you and my body. You must feel very happy only to see and be close to me! Touching me is a great honor! Take it into account! I enjoy myself as I wish. That’s why don’t even try to protest, advise or do something wrong! The meaning of your life is your Mistress’s pleasure!

- Of course, my Lady, - I decided to assent to her.

- For you… - Helen flashed her eyes discontentedly when I interrupted her involuntarily. She continued, - there is nothing more important than to bring me pleasure. It is one of the main rules for you, slave. I think you understand this very well. Am I right, slave?

- Certainly, my Mistress.

- Open your mouth! – Helen ordered and when I opened it she put her toes inside. – Suck them and listen further. You have to look after yourself. I can’t stand slovenliness or dirt. You must correspond to the status of your Mistress. If you don’t follow that, slave, you will be punished! Clean nails, no smell of sweat… I guess, I don’t have to explain that to you?

- I understand, my Lady.

- Very well, I like conscious slaves! – She grinned.

- I have many other rituals, slave! – She added. But I’ll tell you about them later. You have to work to be worthy being with me…

After all these requirements it seemed impossible to have any other wishes. And I had to listen to all that lying on the floor with her toes in my mouth! The standard was very high from the beginning and any break of these rules meant only one for me – punishment!

- Suck them! – She said. - You should do what I told you until you receive another command or order to stop. And if I want, you will lie for an hour sucking them, non-stop! And no slapdash, slave!

A Breast Obsession Of His

Madeleine LeClerc: How can we know who is good - and who is evil?

Abbe du Coulmier: All we can do is guard against our own corruption.

Abbe de Columier: It's nothing but an encyclopedia of perversions. One man killed his wife after reading them.

Madeleine LeClerc: It's a fiction, not a moral treatise.

Renee Pelagie: Desperation has driven me past etiquette, all the way to frenzy.

Dr. Royer-Collard: My schedule is not the subject to the whims of lunatics.

Renee Pelagie: I beg to differ, you work in a madhouse. Your every walking moment is governed by the insane.

Tantalizing Tribulations {Part 7}

As she turned on her heels to walk away, the beast sprang. Her words, caustic and defiant, scythed through Him like a blade and struck a nerve deep inside. No one speaks to Him like this. No mere mortal had ever addressed Him this way and lived. He had reduced these frail creatures to quivering masses, devouring on their souls as they prayed to be released from the depths of their agony. They submitted to His every whim if only they were allowed to die, for death was peaceful in contrast to the pain. And yet, as he launched Himself towards her, there was something about her that gave Him pause. Biting down harshly onto His tongue to control the raging demon that was now fully awake and aroused, He was beside her in two bounds. With the acrid metallic taste filing His mouth, breathing deep to suppress His anger and lust, He forced His voice to remain steady.

Grab her hair! Drag her back to the tree! Use your teeth! Put your hands to good use! Do it now!!

"That's no way to treat a gentlemen My Lil Vixen".
She stopped to look Him straight in the eye and that's when He acted. With snake-like speed His left hand was entwined in her hair, His right hand about her throat. His face so close to her lips He could smell the fruity aroma of her lipstick, "In fact", He sneered, His breath rustling a few wisps of her red mane that strayed across her fine face, "I would dare to venture that your disposition is down right rude, don't you think?"
She did not make a move or make a sound. Every muscle in His body coiled tight to deal with any fight that she might put up, screamed with tension and His hands began to shake. Her lack of resistance coming as a surprise.

Fight you bitch! claw at my wrists! bite my hand! kick and struggle why don't you! make this enjoyable!!

She remained steadfast, her body rigid and composed as she glared back at Him with eyes that smouldered brazenness and open impudence. The realization then hit Him like a hand out of the darkness almost knocking Him backwards. She was not afraid! This was exactly what she wanted. He had played right into her own diabolical game. A game where the rules were to be made up as the actors walked onto the un-earthly stage. Removing His hand with deliberate slowness from around her neck and taking a step back, a carnal grin uncurled across His lips as He released her hair feeling it curtain down the back of her coat.

"Excuse my impulsiveness m'lady, I didn't mean to frighten you. Perhaps you would like me to walk you home?"

From deep inside, the beast raised it's head and howled, it's foul breath rustling the leaves of the trees as it rushed out into the ink dark night.

Tantalizing Tribulations {Part 6}

Peering up to Him she did, her went idle, fingers ever so slightly splayed atop the eroded and pitted stone of some obscure mortal that had lost their life. She mused a moment or two at his comment ‘My Lil Vixen’. The right hand corner of her mouth, twitched almost without notice a quiet reflection of her arrogance. She all but drank in all His movements gauging his next move perchance? Distinctive articulate actions. His voice, surreal not of this earth or so it seemed, playing tricks upon her mind, for the underscore of his voice was almost commanding growl hidden beneath his well spoken manner hood. What in god’s creation had she met up with on this night as the wind seemed to pick up behind him, the creaking groan of the bare branches void of leaves moaned out eerily into the night. She gave a sound almost kindred to that of a grunt at his last comment, giving shrug as though she cared not what he called her.

“As you desire then.” Her tone flat, nonchalant even, her one hand still resting on the tombstone, the other now at her waist, the black leather of the trench coat bunching there, as it opened, revealing to him, the boots, thigh high black leather the faint glint of metallic boot heel as she shifts her weight from the left foot to that of the right. Naught much else could be seen in the dimness of night.

“Time?” She sneered now. “Whatever so do you mean by that Dirk?” Her stance slight more defensive in nature now, the green eyes narrowed slits of almost hateful distrust. “I am afraid I do not have the time to dally; the hour is late and I am tired. And slightly hostile; the longer I am kept from a warm fire and my glass of wine.” Her small house sat alone on the other side of the cemetery and now she was becoming agitated her tone touching on caustic. Her head tilted back as the moonlight cascaded a beam atop her, alabaster neck slender now fully exposed as she mocked him next each word hinted laughter. “Be gone with you man, you are not worth my time and effort. Take it to some filthy subservient slut or wench. For that I AM NOT.” Mutters something along the lines that…..”…be damned I would fight you tooth and nail…..”

She boldly turned to leave thusly momentarily turning her back on him to return back to the pathway that would take her home the rest of the way through the cemetery.

Her Sensual Punishment For Uncouthe Behavior

She was in the kitchen getting ready for the BBQ that they had planned for the hot Summer's eve. He the Master was outside starting the BBQ as she made salad to go with the sizzling steak. He came into the house as she turned and gave Him that look that gets her into so much trouble with Him. Feeling brave she was as she smacked His ass with the wooden spoon. {This spoon is what He used on her bare ass as punishment} But she smacked His. He growled and reached for the large metal tongs used for the BBQ.....
"Precious that was uncalled for, now wasn't it?" His voice low and gruff. She knew that she had made a infraction against His rules.

"Yes Master it was but I wanted too." Was her curt reply

"Lift up your shirt and bare those breasts for me. NOW." Was all He said.

Without question she did as He bade her to do. Letting free those glorious globes of soft tender flesh. The metal was cold and unfeeling as He took a nipple between the sharpened teeth. And applied pressure, closing the steel jaws around the sensitive nib.

Her soft cries of pain edged with purposeful pleasure echoed in the large kitchen as He closed the jaws, the teeth digging into the flesh.

"Now count out loud to twenty Precious."

"One...Two..Three." A tear rolled from one glistening green eye and then the other as He pinched down harder till she reached that of Twenty.

The red teeth marks left behind bruised slightly, He left His mark of His displeasure upon her to last a few days so that she would remember NEVER to strike her Master even in jest....

"Lock her up as well so she knows how it feels! The gorgon, the sow! " Marquis de Sade

The Division Of Calisto

Simone: Tell him that if he discovers his whereabouts, you'll slit your wrists with a razor, and I'll drive a hatpin through his heart.
Prouix, the Architect: You'd do that, rather than forsake our love.
Simone: No. But tell him I would anyway.

Dr. Royer-Collard: Will you sleep sound tonight?
Adde du Coulmier: No. Put frankly, I never expect to sleep again.

Tantalizing Tribulations {Part 5}

He could have smiled or snarled, she couldn't quite tell in the dark. Lips pulled back, teeth iridescent and bared in the waning moonlight, His face still shadowed. And then she heard Him laugh. A soft sound, ominous like the distant sound of thunder, yet with undertones of genuine mirth...

He watched as she took two steps forward knowing that her curiosity had overcome her fear. Drawn like a moth to a lantern, she had to see His face. He chuckled again at her words, her voice soft as a plucked harp yet brimming with arrogance, defiant in the face of the unknown. In an instant, He took a liking to this woman. He admired her resolve, and just as instantly resolved to take it easy with her. Easy prey indeed. He giggled to Himself as His mind went off on yet another tangent, congratulating Himself on the silly word-play that came to Him so easily.

'Cos I'm e-eas-ay, e-easy on a Sunday mor-orning', sang The Commodores inside His head.

With yet another effort, He snapped out of His reverie, reminding Himself that this woman deserved His attention. "Get a grip man, there is business at hand!", he snarled inwardly. He took a moment to assess the situation once more before He made any move. She was obviously armed and not afraid to use the little dirk which had disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. There was the imperious manner in her poise. The graceful elegance in her stance. He could also tell that she was used to getting her own way. His first assessment of her was right. Of course it was-He was never wrong. He wondered what attire was hidden beneath the long coat -if there was anything at all. A vision flashed before His eyes, of her kneeling naked and face down on, tears spilling down the cold hard granite of the gravestone she was pushed upon, her silken alabaster back violated by three gash marks slashed diagonally across her skin. Bright red droplets marking the angry trail.

The beast awakened by the rude percussion, slowly raised it's head and growled, low, deep and long. It smelt her fear above the scent of her perfume - Lilac and Lavender, and the tattoo of her nails as it tapped atop the headstone, beat in perfect metre with it's cold dark heart.

The marked contempt in her voice coursed through his belly to the creature inside to blow softly upon it's fevered brow. It stirred, stretched out a stiff limb and flexed a claw cragged and knotted from an eternity of darkness. A hooded shadow crossed His eyes as the beast peered forth at this woman and He almost flexed a hand towards her. The urge to reach out and hook a talon along the top of her long coat - to hear her breath hiss with each pop of a button, to release her ample breasts, to graze a sharp nail along a soft rosy nipple, raged through His being. He would bring her to her knees with a single command. He would slip His still moist cock from within His jeans, hard and throbbing. She would extend her tongue, eyes closed and accept the sacrament of His host with docility and submission. She will please Him as He sees fit.

From deep within, the beast raised it's monstrous head and growled, it's loins aroused by the depraved vision. It's malignant heart beating once again to push the malodorous blood through it's blackened veins. Parched scales stretched and cracked as it's body slowly uncoiled. A serpentine tongue flicked out to savour the moment as a longer, abominable growl escaped it's withered lips.

He cleared His throat, to mask the sound. Stepping forward into the moonlight, fighting back the carnal urges, His features soft and expressive, He addressed her, "At the risk of sounding trite m'lady, what's a girl like you doing wandering through these grounds so late at night? You never know what lurks within these shadows"

He watched her start, a flicker of something cross her face - eagerness perhaps, fear or willingness?

He smirked, and His eyes flicked to her tapping fingers, long and slender tapering to perfectly filed nails. "I shall call you My Lil Vixen-for now. There is time enough to learn your true name"

Service Of The Master

Abbe du Columier: You are not to entertain visitors in your quarters.

Marquis de Sade: I'm entertaining you now, aren't I?

Abbe du Collumier: Yes, but I'm not a beautiful young prospect ripe for corruption.

Marquis de Sade: Don't be so sure.

Devotion is showed in many factions. One cool Autumn evening she sat downstairs whilst He puttered around doing things in the basement. She played a few games on the laptop amusing herself. A distinctive grunting growl came from her left as she turned she was greeted with her Master's cock, bouncing in the low light of the room. Her eyes widened at it. How she loved to suck His cock, worshiped it even so to speak.

"..now my Precious."

Her eyes dart coyly to His face, He wore a mask of sternness as she whimpered softly turning to the side. Pushing her her head forward she darted her moist tongue along the tip before thrusting the exposed head over her parted pouting lips, taking the offering, being grateful she was offered such a gift. To be able to serve His needs without question, that is the honour in which she is devoted to Him and Him alone.

Is it wrong to love sucking cock so much? To crave it? Need it?....

For My Master

For Him

How do you write a poem
about Love?
It cannot be caught
and is beyond words’
power of depiction.
It has no place to be,
all places are filled
with Love.
Without Love would
anything have any savour?
Love is what joins
Love is what flows
Love is what counts
Love is what grows
Love is what’s known.
Love is all around
Love is all about
Love is all we ask
Love is all we give
Love is all I have.
Love wants nothing
Love needs nothing
Love misses nothing
Love excludes nothing
Love is what this is all about.
Joining, flowing, counting,
growing, knowing
around, about
asking, giving, having
All is Love,
of that I have no doubt.

Tantalizing Tribulations {Part 4}

He watched her approach and His loins stirred from a long forgotten longing. A burning hunger that had to be repressed after ages of unsatisfactory encounters. His heart began to thud in His chest, His breath puffing out of His flared nostrils in small wisps, the hairs at the nape of His neck erect and tingling. A smile borne from the carcass of a thousand dead souls, crossed His face, pure evilness glowing from the shadowed features. His tongue flicked once more across His lips as He scrabbled forward silently, the sound muffled by the soft, moist soil of the freshly dug grave, the rich smell of the earth permeating His senses.
She must have heard something for suddenly, a glint of steel flashed in the cool night. His breath caught in His throat and He froze as the realization that she was armed hit Him.
"Shit!" He swore under His breath. This was an unexpected turn of events, but still within His control nevertheless. Just would not be as easy as He had hoped. His mind flashed back to the last time someone had resisted Him, or tried to, He corrected Himself. She had put up quite a fight, impressive for such a petite little thing. He had picked her up up not two blocks from here with promises of a hot meal, a shower and $200 for an hour of His entertainment. She was pretty, one of the better looking ones, legs accentuated by high heels, ending in tight ass, flowing blonde hair and lovely pert breasts. A shame about those breasts really, and what had to be done to them. She had collapsed like a rag doll finally, wetting herself, ruining the expensive stockings He had asked her to wear, when He had exercised His master-stroke upon the soft skin, nipples pushed erect by her sheer terror.

He shook His head, snapping out of His reverie. There was business at hand and this new woman was walking towards Him. He marvelled at her stride. Back erect, head held high, measured steps so perfectly in time, He could have composed a symphony - perhaps a swan song? he snickered. But His composure was short-lived as she turned towards Him and stopped not more than 3 metres from Him. His cock jumped within the tight constraints of His jeans, all feelings of relieving Himself again forgotten. An icy hand clamped across His chest, making it hard to breathe and His heart pounded so hard against His rib cage, He was forced to steady Himself against a cool, hard rock of a nearby headstone. How the fuck did she know He was here! Did she notice Him or sense Him? Had He spoken out aloud? His face prickled with anticipation and near awe at the sheer courage of this woman. She was stunningly beautiful, now that she was so close, Her features soft and delicately carved. A long neck flowing downwards to an ample bosom that rose and fell with her breath. A glimpse of defined cleavage beneath her coat, and He knew instantly how he could use that tight space. He slurped at the spittle that almost escaped His lips, trying to decide His next move-and then she spoke.

"Be you man or beast..."
The sound of her voice, delicately garnished by a thousand years, soft and lilting, accented by history, sent a bolt of bright blue electricity through Him that He had never felt before. It filled His ears with a thunderous roar, prickling His face and neck as it surged downwards through His belly to jolt against His loins. The beast awakened by the rude percussion, slowly raised it's head and growled, low, deep and long. It smelt her fear above the scent of her perfume - Lilac and Lavender, and the tattoo of her nails as it tapped atop the headstone, beat in perfect metre with it's cold dark heart.

He stepped out of the shadows on silent feet, the silvery moon cloaking Him in a shroud of obscurity and faced her.
"Good Evening m'lady, Please let me introduce myself". Glancing down at the small weapon in her right hand, His eyes flicked upward to meat her emerald orbs, bright in the reflective moonlight, before bowing to her,
"My name is Dirk"

Tantalizing Tribulations {Part 3}

"We produce books for the discriminating collector. The compulsive inmates set the type, the listless ones do the binding and prepare the ink."

Her hands jammed into the front pockets fingernails cutting almost half-moons into the delicate flesh of her palms. No mark, no callouse marks her hands a feature she would not be able to hide, even though all else of her nature, Highborne, hidden and covered with a back alley drawl. Her gait even straight and narrow with the gentle rolling of her hips, left, right, left right. The tattoo of her boot heels echoed her passage further, deeper into the Cemetery, iridescent green eyes flicked to the left and right, the looming head stones carving surreal shapes into the misted rolling fog that enveloped the pathway almost illuminated sadistic twisted visuals. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood erect all of a sudden, her nostrils flared in warning as the icy tingle ran down her spine, she quirked a brow stopping, her right hand racing out of her pocket. Armed. A glinting of silver caught the bestraggled moonlight above as the clouds flee across the midnight sky. A lady like dagger, the blade twisted to a fine honed point acidic etchings into the blade worn away from age. The hilt, white ivory, rolled fluidly in the palm of her hand as if welcoming an old friend. She once again continued her walk, her eyes shifted untrustingly to the unfathomlessness that surround here, muting her senses, twisting her thoughts. She thought she heard something, her head cocked to the right her gait slightly slower, but still self assured that she could handle herself. Guttersnipe, cut-throat, vagabond beware, she thought. Unruly locks of her coppery hair twisted about her alabaster face in which reflect naught of her terror but of her own heightened amusement; for she now knew she was not alone. What? Whom? She did not know, but she was sure going make sure they got the point firstly. Nipples instantly hardened, why? She knew not, but the fine points cut into the roughness of the black wool sweater tight against them, her breasts testing the tight confines, pulled taunt till the five glass buttons threatened to pop with strain. Withdrawing her left hand she felt out for the head stones as she now left the path, her boot heels sinking easily into the soft wet laden earth. Bramble snagged at her legs, she was not as quiet as she wished. A low growl came from her red tainted lips as her left hand snaked out onto a weather worn head stone of a head bowed Angel, wings tilted inwards to shadow the Dead that lay below. Her breasts heaved as she breathed deep; a bitter taste came up over the back of her mouth. Fear. Standing bold, upright, shoulders back, enough of this! Her voice a soft almost ancient accent filtered in and out of her words.

“Be you beast or man. Come out now and know outright that I bow to no man or god. “

Head up, chin level, the aristocratic poise was unmistakable, the attire a putt off, a sham. A wolf in sheep’s clothing perhaps was she. Her fingernails curled over the top of the head stone of ‘ I. B. Fine’ in almost annoyed beat she began to tap those long tapered fingernails against the hard gray stone.Twirling the dagger in that of her right hand, the blade flinting silver in the moonlight accenting herself as being armed. Unbeknownst to her, she had walked directly towards him, that silent calling that tugged her; this way and that till she was there and now. Waiting…waiting….

Tantalizing Tribulations {Part 2}

There! He was sure of it, a quiet footfall. His head snapped to the left senses on high alert, the surface of His skin prickling with tension. There it was again, the crackle of high heels on the pebbled walkway. Someone was approaching.
Boredom had led Him here, into the eerie yet comforting quietude of the Cemetery. These last few days he had wandered about listlessly, aimlessly, entertaining Himself with mindless banter with the whores and transvestites that traversed the laneways of this desultory part of the city. Torn fishnet stockings, black leather mini-skirts, 3" spikes, eyes glazed over by the sheer apathy of their lives, detachment in every hobbled step, worn down like the cracks on the pavement they tried to step over, He felt nothing but pity for the miserable lives of these men and women, contempt for the wretched dregs of society that desperation dragged down here, seeking solace for a $20 blowjob. Maybe He was doing them a favour every time He was overpowered by His appetite, an Appetite for Destruction. Axel Rose had it right-Welcome to the 'Fucking' Jungle.
Now He found Himself walking along rows of headstones, some stunning in their augustness, works of art and design, paid for with love and adoration. Yet others achingly beautiful in their simplicity, bouquets of wilting flowers, remnants of incense sticks even. Ground mist had covered the pathways and gravestones in an ethereal shroud, lit by the soft muted light of the moon making it seem as if the whole world was slowly floating away. Yet it was not enough to lessen His dispassion. He had to piss and for an instance He even thought to defile Edith Hawser, 1867 ~ 1913, but smirking, decided that perhaps watering a tree was in better taste.
Now as a steady stream issued out of His cock, footsteps! He was sure of it. Clamping His scrotum together stopping the stream mid-flow, He slowly pushed His member back into His jeans and silently buttoned up, thankful He wasn't wearing the one with the zippered front.
Barely noticing the trickle of piss that ran down His inner thigh to nestle against the back of His knee, He crouched down and watched as the figure approached. She was tall, nearly as tall as He, measured gait and a straight back spoke of high-society and perhaps nobleness. There was also no trace of fear in her walk, self-assurance and a quiet arrogance. Her hair, a dark mane that billowed outward, full breasts that bounced softly with every step, she was a beauty indeed and He growled-a low bestial rumble as His bright red tongue flicked out to wet His lips. Suddenly, His night had improved with every gracious step of those black high-heeled boots. He grinned, His heart thudding in His chest, breathing short and shallow. He cursed Himself for not completely relieving Himself as the urge to piss again suddenly filled his loins. But He will wait for another moment. He licked His lips again, running the back of His hand across His mouth.
"Come to me sweet heart", He whispered, His voice hissing snake-like, raspy with visions of what she would do to satisfy His demonic lust. A serpentine lust that no mortal had yet to quench...

Tantalizing Tribulations

" One is never so dangerous when one has no shame, than when one has grown too old to blush."

Storm had ended, the night ripped open painfully dark, the moon tore through the black set night like shredded velvet, the black wispy tendrils caressed the full face of the yellow moon. A faint echoing down the bare city street, a clicking of metallic boot heels against the pavement, down the middle of the road she walked. A stray faint arcing of blue as the steel tipped heels found a pebble in the pavement. Attired in a full black leather trench coat, billowing out behind her as her gait was swift and even, hands balled to fists shoved in the front pockets. Damp curling red hair hung in tangled wayward waves down her back. She was walking home, the buses stopped an hour ago, and well a cab would not be caught dead here in this part of town. To her left the Cemetery came to view, all around her silence not even a rat or alley cat. An odd eerie illuminescent glow game over her, each time she passed under the street lamps that lined the road. Her only source of light as she left the road and turned into the Cemetery, taking the short-cut home, would cut off at least thirty minutes off her walking time. Into the Cemetery she traversed, without really a second thought pushing open the rusted wrought iron gates. Now her boot heels clicked and echoed the Sanctuary of the Cemetery, she had no fear of waking anyone up here, everyone was dead asleep. She snickered and disappeared into the darkness, the low laying mist grabbed and snatched around her booted feet as she went down the narrow lane......