Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Tiny Tale Tuesday: Elf/Wild

The backroom of Elf/Wild thrums with the beat of drums from the club proper. The rhythm plays to my own heartbeat, washes over my naked body like warm water. I can't see past the shadow spell cast across my eyes. But there, just barely audible over everything else, Natir's footsteps.

I finally approached him that night, and I finally had enough money to afford time alone with him. The most sought after consort in all of New London. Lovely to look at, but most elves are.

His footsteps stop. My breath hitches. Something delicate and soft caresses my chest, circles my nipple.

Natir's voice runs silken over my skin, breath warm and scented with sweet wine. "You can't see?"


A snap meets my ears. "Can you speak?"

I try and the words ricochet back at me, unspoken. I can't even move my lips.

"Good. All you have to do is think. If things go too far for you, the magic will break."

And the nothing more. .Only footsteps and rums and my heart. Clanging metal, wood against stone. Maybe just making noise. I can't tell, and the nervousness builds in my core, tingles under my skin. I wait, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. The noise stops, leaving me alone. So alone, and simply waiting for the touch of a flog or a paddle or even a hand.

Something dances delicate across my chest. I tighten at the touch. It almost tickles, but not quite. Natir's voice fills the room. "Try to relax."

And it begins. First a warmth on my chest, but that builds and builds until it snaps. A sharp jolt of pain, electricity. Just a split second, but enough that I squirm. Natir's magic holds me strong, and another jolt comes, lower this time. They run in a line down my stomach, down into my bush, and then into my cock. I yelp against the magical gag and no sound comes out. It still leans toward pleasure, only brought into stronger focus by the jabs of pain.

Now down to my balls. Not a jolt, this time, and not as painful. But constant, a tingling surrounding by balls, flowing back to my taint. If not for the magic holding me in place, I would back away. But still, I have no desire for it to stop.

When it stops, the room seems so large around me, the music so distant. I relish in the hard beating of my heart. Another snap and the gag vanishes. The blindfold as well. I take in Natir's slender face in the dark. Gold and silver tattoos snake across his bare chest and abdomen. Bright scarlet hair flows free across his shoulders.

Natir smiles. "Did you enjoy that?"


"Good. You paid for the night. And I find you fascinating. I intend to make this last as long as possible. Do you approve?"


"Good." Another snap and no more sight, no more speech. Just Natir and his touch and the drums of Elf/Wild.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Tiny Tale Tuesday: Stoned

Cyrus passed me bong and the lighter. Red rimmed his hazel eyes, and bright pink lips spread over too-perfect teeth. He just looked at me and laughed. "I'm here with you."

"Absolutely." Everyone else had left a half an hour ago. I was going to, but that went out the window real quick. I locked my lips to the mouthpiece, held the lighter to the bowl, and sucked up on the smoke, filling the chamber. When I pulled up the bowl, all the smoke flowed up and into my lungs. It tasted of dry grass and old paper.

When I passed everything back to Cyrus, he put out the cherry and set the bong up on the coffee table. "I'm glad you stayed."

I nodded, but couldn't hold the smoke in my lungs anymore, let it flow over my lips as I spoke. "I'm having a good time." I'd already smoked more than enough t feel the effects. My shirt felt so heavy on my skin. Just wearing it made me tingle all over. Pants and boxers too, although that tingling could have been from Cyrus just as easily.

He leaned back, showing off the tufts of pale brown under his arms, stretching his skin taut over his ribcage. "It's been a long time since just the two of us smoked a bowl together."

"Not since high school, yeah."

"Graduation day. We had a couple hours before everyone else showed up." He rolled onto his side and grinned at me, eyes alight. "You still have that crush on me?"

"What crush?" The blush in my cheeks didn't play along with the ruse. They burned and surely shone bright red. More tingling downstairs, too.

"You weren't exactly subtle." Cy sat back up and grabbed my hand. "It's flattering. I'm not one of those jack-offs who's going to freak out about it."

"I know. But still. You're straight. It wasn't really right for me to say anything about it." Even though I'd always wanted to. "And it's still not."

"So you still have a crush on me, then?" He leaned over suddenly and kissed my cheek. An innocent thing, but it chilled me, pushed a cold thrill through my veins. He winked at me when he'd pulled back. "And I'd call myself straight-ish, not straight?"

"What?" He was fucking with me, and it was mean. "Cut the crap, Cy."

"Not crap. I've fooled around with guys before. Just… never stoned."

"Which guys?" I could hardly speak. Way too much of my focus went to keeping my dick under control. "Come on, you've never shown any interest."

"I'm subtle. So what?"

"You're not subtle." He inched closer and closer to me, and my voice quieted the nearer he came. "You're probably just high and horny."

He reached over, put his hand on my thigh. Anyone else would have gotten slapped for that. "What if I am? You've got a boner, Jacky."

"Come on. Just calm down." But in my mind, I urged him on, begged for more. "You're acting crazy."

No more words. He leaned in again, pressed his bare chest against me, sucked in my lower lip. I only resisted a moment before melting into him, leaning back and feeling his slight weight against my body. His tongue tangled with mine, and I could taste the smoke on his breath. With so much contact, my skin felt like a sea of sparks. Every contact an explosion, almost an orgasm in itself.

He pulled back and winked again, smiling so wide it filled his face. "We don't have to, if you don't want to. But… I want to."

"Maybe just a little." Or a lot. A hell of a lot. All night.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Tiny Tale Tuesday: Wager

I could hardly keep my stomach steady. We weren't doing much, just sitting in a booth, waiting for the little blonde waitress to bring us our appetizers. But Danny had his hand in my pocket. And there was a hole in my pocket. And I wasn't wearing underwear.

All Danny's idea, too.

His fingers brushed across my balls, raising the heat in my cheeks. I had to resist the urge to cross my legs. All it would have done is trap his hand down there.

"Come on," I whispered. "At least until the waitress comes?"

He shook his head and smiled. The silvery ring in his lip glinted under the fluorescents. "You lost the bet, and you said I could have my way with you."

I had said it… "I'm pretty sure this is illegal."

"Just relax, babe. I promise not to get us caught or anything." He walked his fingers higher, rubbed them over the tip of my dick. I bit back a gasp and tried to cover it with a cough. The old lady in the booth next to us looked over, but didn't say anything. She didn't know, did she?

The waitress came back with a tray and set our plates down in front of us. "There you go, gentlemen. Is there anything else I can get you?"

Danny glanced over at me, a gleam in his eye that I wished I didn't know so well. He wrapped his fingers around my shaft, but nothing more. Just looked up at the waitress. "I'm good." Back to me, smiling wide. "Babe?"

He had something in mind and I knew it. Sure enough, as soon as I opened my mouth, his grip tightened and he slid his fist up and down, pumping me harder. The words caught in my throat and I'd been staring at the waitress way too long. I jut shook my head and looked down to try and hide the red I'm sure filled my face.

As much as I complained, I'd never been this turned on. Not that Danny and I ever had a bad time in the bedroom, but this was new. And my resistance only made my blood rush that much faster, boil and bubble that much hotter.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Still grinning way too wide still stroking up and down my dick, he bit into an onion ring, held the other half up to my lips. "Your favorite."

I snapped it up, and of course that's when he picked up the pace, shooting lightning through my dick, filled my balls with the tingling power. Way familiar, way not the right time for this.

"I think you might want to stop, now." I tried to tell him with my eyes. "Otherwise something's going to happen."

He leaned in close, rested his head on my shoulder. But still stroking. "I don't think I understand. Why don't you tell me?" His breath caressed my neck, hot and humid. Not helping matters. "I want to hear you say it, and then I'll consider stopping. Agreed?"

I nodded. "You better do more than consider stopping." I locked eyes with him and whispered as softly as I could. "You're going to make me come."

He kept up his assault for another second, then finally released me, slipped his hand out from under the table. "You win for now. I'll let you calm down." He winked and snatched up another onion ring, slipped it between my lips. "But once we're in the car, the safety's off."

I snapped up the onion ring and smiled back. "I guess that's all right." Now that he'd let me go, I burned for his touch again. Even if the old lady over there decided she wanted to watch.

"I should lose bets to you more often."

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Tiny Tale Tuesday: Circus Daze

The salt and butter of popcorn filled the air. Raucous cheers filled the lot. And there in the middle, anchoring the chaos, there stood the tent. A gaudy affair of gold and scarlet sweeping into the sky.

Damian walked the dirt path, focused on the tent. He weaved through the crowd, jostled past when they blocked him. All roads in the circus led there, straight to the tent, and no amount of fair food or rigged games of skill would distract him.

Around the tent, the crowd thinned, the show still an hour from starting. But Damian hardly cared about seeing the show again. He'd been yesterday. How much would change?

A burly woman put a hand on his shoulder as he approached the entrance. "Sorry. They're still setting up."

"Nikolai sent me." He showed her the black padded glove he'd gotten.

After a moment, the woman nodded. "Head back then. But don't tire him out too much."

Damian rushed past her before shame heated his cheeks. In the dark of the tent, he hoped it wasn't noticeable. Workers strung up the trapeze, hung bunting around the bleachers. It looked almost like it had the day before. Just a little more disheveled.

"Damian." A thick, liquid voice drew his attention around. He looked over his shoulder and saw the broad, bare chest, the slim waist, the bulge of a package hardly concealed by tight, striped shorts. Nikolai came up and grabbed his hand, dragged him away. "We don't have long."

They wove through other performers, clowns and jugglers and highwire walkers, and darted behind a stack of boxes. Nikolai smiled at him, brilliantly white teeth. "Ready?"

"How often do you do this?"

"As much as I can." He dropped his shorts, unleashing his semi-hard cock. "So I've got lots of practice."

Damian only hesitated a second before stripping off his shirt and pants, standing naked in front of the Cyr wheel artist. Nikolai went straight to work, kneeling, his lips tight around Damian's shaft. He wrapped a hand around his own dick and pumped, matching the rhythm of his mouth to his hand.

So much heat. Damian's knees threatened to buckle after just a few minutes. He felt light-headed, and not just because of the frenzy of the circus. The wet heat around his cock, the slight grunting from Nikolai, the slap of skin on skin as he pumped faster on his own shaft. Sweat beaded on Damian's forehead, dripped down his nose.

The pressure built and built until, finally, it surged out of Damian's cock. He leaned his back against the boxes to keep from falling. One hit, two, three, four, five before his ecstasy abated.

Nikolai rose and nodded, still hard as steel. "It'll be better next time."

"Next time?"

He slipped the shorts back on. Now they really didn't hide anything. "Tonight, after the show." He slapped a hard palm against Damian's bare ass cheek. "Don't disappoint me."

"Don't disappoint me."

Nikolai smiled again. "Doubtful."