Category Archives: fdom

Replacement Lover

It was as if she didn’t need him anymore, James thought. They were still married, he was still her submissive, but nothing was the same. Nothing had been, since she brought him home.

Alex was his name, and he was a big man. Tall, muscled, huge. Even his cock was a monster — two inches wide and ten inches long (James remembered how she made him measure it.)

Their lovemaking — at least his part in it — had become routine. She’d lock him up as soon as he got home from work. Alex would arrive soon after and they’d adjourn immediately to their bedroom. Then she’d call for him, and he’d crawl to the bedroom.

She’d left him no choice. James’ hands and ankles bound together, so he could only shuffle into the bedroom. Once there, Alex and his wife would already be naked. His wife, his Mistress, would have her legs splayed wide. Alex’s gigantic member would be bouncing, ready.

“Get me wet,” she would command. James occasionally wondered why she wasn’t already wet — she’d never had a problem with that before, but most of the time he was too quickly thrust against her cunt. He’d lick her until her juices were flowing and she was covered in spit. Then Alex would grab him and shove him out of the way.

Alex’s huge cock would pierce her slit, stretching it obscenely wide. James had not choice but to watch it slide, inexorably in and out of his Mistress’ cunt. She would moan in ever increasing pitch and tempo crying out in loud orgasm. Alex would fill her cunt soon after with an apelike grunt.

Then she’d demand his attention again. “Clean me out James.” She would usually come as his tongue sought out Alex’s offensive cum, swallowing it down as he did so. Lately, Alex had been demanding similar services, and James was forced to suck and lick the giant thing that had fucked his wife.

After he was clean, and newly hard, Alex would push him off the bed onto the wooden floor. He’d climb into the bed, spooning with his wife, running his cock between her asscheeks, sometimes fucking her again, sometimes drifting off to pleasant sleep.

Their loud lovemaking was his new alarm clock, and he was called again to cleaning service. After he was done the dominating couple would release him with only enough time to shower and dress before he had to return to work.

After he got to work, he’d find a bathroom. Any one would do, but he preferred ones that weren’t on his regular floor. He’d find a stall, drop his pants, and free his continuously hard cock. He’d masturbate, thinking of the morning and the night before, and the way they had used him.

James dreaded getting caught. By work, or worse, by his wife. But she hadn’t let him touch himself when she was around since she brought Alex home.

And James found he couldn’t resist.


He couldn’t take one more hit: his back was raw, his knees week. When she unclasped his hands from the chain above him, he collapsed to his knees. He rubbed his face against her legs. “I’m so sorry, sorry sorry,” he said.

She patted him on the head, caressing him. She touched his shoulder, guiding him up onto the bed as she lay down on it. He curled up next to her, and she pulled his head to her breasts. Tears streamed down his face, and onto her breasts, sliding down them, leaving warm salty trails.

“Shhhh,” she said. “It’s ok, it’s ok.”

“I tried to take it,” he said. “I just couldn’t take any more.”
“I know, honey, I know.” She squeezed some body oil onto his back. He tensed at first, and then she gently rubbed it in. “You know why we do this, right?”

“Because I’m so bad?” He asked. He knew he was worthless, pointless scum. He couldn’t do anything right, nothing at all. He couldn’t even take one more hit. He sniffled. “Because I’m so bad.” He couldn’t say worthless. He couldn’t say useless. He wanted to, to let her know he was the worst thing in the world, but all he could say was “bad”. He sobbed.

“Shh shhh, ” she said, running her other hand through his hair. “That’s not right, and you know it.”

He let out a long sob. He hadn’t even gotten the question right, even though he knew, he knew he’d given the true answer. Her arms encircled him. “No, no,” she said, rocking him. “I would never do this for someone who was bad,” she said. “I love you, always and forever.”

He shuddered, crying tears of relief. “B-but, I said ‘Red’.”

“You took more than you’ve ever taken for me, hon.” She went back to rubbing the oil into his red back. “You’re going to be bruised,” she said with a smile in her voice. “I thought you would yellow a long time ago.”

“I didn’t want to red,” he said. “You just kept hitting the same place over and over and over…”

“Right here?” she asked, running her fingers over it.

He gasped, a quick indrawn breath. “Yes.”

“Come up here,” she said. “Kiss me.”

He slid up her body, and kissed her tenderly, a chaste kiss. “No,” she said. “Kiss me.” Her hand slid down to his ass, groping and squeezing. He kissed her, his tongue snaking out, and touching hers. She moaned. Her legs spread apart. “Fuck me,” she said.

He blinked away the last of the tears, and he was calm like he hadn’t been in weeks. A good flogging and a cry, and the stress and doubt were gone. He positioned himself over her, and plunged inside her wet cunt. He sighed happily at the way it felt to be inside her.

He smiled down at her, and she moaned up at him. “I love you,” he said.

“And I love you.”

Being Mean

“It’s not easy being mean,” she sang under her breath.

She’d looked over the toys she had this morning, and nothing there inspired her. Nothing gave her spark that said, “Use that on him.” She’d looked over her little sub and bit her lip. This just wasn’t going to work.

“Okay, slutboy,” she said. “We’re going shopping.” He let out a deep sigh. He hated shopping almost as much as she did. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you something to do while we’re there.”

So they took the van.

It wasn’t a mini-van, or even a finished van. It was unfinished and raw inside, other than a futon she’d tossed down. She let him kneel and tied his arms so they were up and reaching for the ceiling. She also tied around him to the sides, so he wouldn’t flail about as she drove. Also, so he couldn’t move.

His cock was right where she wanted it, inside it’s little plastic cage.

She was going up to the new development on the outskirts of town. They’d built a Target or a Wal-Mart up there. And there was a big hardware store. The drove and he moaned a bit in the back. Hard to do more when you’re gagged, after all.

She pulled into the lot, and climbed into the back of the van. She tossed a dress at him, and unsnapped his restraints. “Here’s fifty bucks,” she said. “You’ll get an orgasm for each new toy you bring me. You have an hour.”

He pulled the dress over his head, and she undid the ball gag. He slid on some shoes, and she handed him the cash. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” she said. She handed him his purse, and he blushed.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said.

Maybe it wasn’t so hard to be mean after all.

4: Pirate Captain

Captain’s Private Journal
August 17, 2170

ID: Captain Amy Shurinko
Hair: Black
Eyes: Blue
Height: 183 cm
Mass: 63 kg
Age: 36
Birth Date: 2135.07.17

I’ve added the navigational logs to this record, but that’s for my own information later. I’m afraid things have been crazy these past few days, and we may need to look into another line of business. That and I think I may be smitten. Roxy is mad, even though she knows I’d never leave her or the ship. That, or she’s jealous of the time I’ve gotten with Helen. That’s fixable, at least.

Six days ago we were on Geneforge station, doing a bit of recon, and looking for solid work. I was at the Seven Sisters when the woman I call Helen — for reasons that will become obvious — walked in. It was day shift, and she was dressed like a little corp-girl up for a night out. She was out of place: dressed completely wrong, and way too beautiful for a dive like that.

For that matter, she was way too beautiful for the club outfit she was wearing. The red heels — too high for anywhere with more gravity than a station — were shiny, trashy fuck-me pumps. They were designer and expensive, and I suppose that made them okay for work. If you ask me, anything with a heel that long just says “lay me down and grab hold. My thoughts weren’t pure, that’s certain; I wanted to get her out of those clothes and pull her down to my crotch and make her lick me.

Judging by how quiet the bar got when she walked in I wasn’t the only one thinking such thoughts.

But I was the one she walked up to.

I just sat there as she slinked towards me. I sipped my drink, and tried to keep my eyes on her face. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t like to look. I prefer the ladies, after all. My crew is all female for a reason — more than one.

She moved like a dancer, or someone who had studied martial arts for years. The low-G skirt and top drifted around — still covering everything, much to everyone’s dismay — enticing the eye and making my gaze wander. She was round and full and sexy, her hair cascaded down her back, unkempt and wavy. She had a just-fucked look about her, the kind models and vid-stars try to create, but with her it was just a natural thing. Her breasts bounced a little as she moved; I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Captain Shurinko?” she asked when she arrived at my table. I nodded, and took another sip of my beer. I gestured for her to sit down, and she slid into my booth. I glared around the bar, and most people went back to what they were doing. Someone kicked the music player, and the bar went back to loud and lively.

As the girl slid into my booth she artfully and “accidentally” flashed me her tits. I knew my night was looking up, after all my reputation is well known in places like the Seven Sisters. She didn’t have much on her: skirt, shoes, top. Maybe some panties, but I was betting not. She had a small bag, maybe 400cc’s that was bulging a bit, but that wasn’t odd, either.

The other thing that struck me was how young she looked. She couldn’t be more than eighteen, nineteen tops. She didn’t move like a teenager, but maybe they were growing them young these days. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she looked, either. She had come down to the docks, and to a place like the Seven Sisters. “I have a proposition for you,” she said, leaning close to me so that I could hear her. I turned on the sound squelchers and the noise from the bar went away — and no one would be able to hear what we had to say either.

“A proposition?” I said. There was probably a bit too much leer in it, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Yes.” Her voice was like smooth cream and chocolate. “I need off station.”

I knew where it was going, but some part of my hesitated. The part that wanted her too much. I was getting wet listening to her, and I knew what I wanted, but you don’t become a successful pirate captain without some caution. You can’t always listen to your gonads, you’ll get keelhauled that way. “So buy a ticket, kid. Ladies’ Luck doesn’t take passengers.”

“Tickets require things I don’t have,” she said. “Money. Proper identification. That sort of thing.”

“You need smuggled off the station, and don’t have money?” The rational part of me was waving red flags and jumping up and down. I acted calm, nursing my drink. The irrational part of me was slick and hard from nips to clit.

“I have other things to offer.” She jiggled then and the rational part of me fuzzed out and I was all lust and agony, wanting her. “Seven Sisters has rooms. I only need an hour.” The rooms were mainly for a shower and a real bed, in a room you don’t have to share. They rented by the hour, and that meant they were used for more than just a nap.

“An hour?” I said. My throat was parched. My hands gripped the strong clear plastic of my mug. “You think that’s enough for passage anywhere?”

“No,” she said. “But it’ll more than pay for the room.” She looked me in the eyes, and I matched her gaze.

I wanted her, that was true. But more than that, I didn’t just want sex. I wanted to possess her, even for a few minutes. She must have seen that, because she shifted in her seat. Her arrogance and certainty slid away; her expression became tentative. Her eyes were still powerful, though. She was strong deep inside.

“Yours for an hour,” she said. “As a trial for the passage.”

How could I lose? I nodded, and waved a waitress over. I told her what I wanted, thumbed the bill, and she slipped a room key out of her apron. She looked at us enviously, and smiled a knowing grin. I downed the rest of my beer, and I led Helen to our room.
~ o ~

The room was small: a full sized bed, with no more than a half meter of space on one side. There was a little space to stand at the foot to open the sliding door that hides the shower and bathroom facilities. There’s a light built into the headboard, and a harsh overhead that reflected off the too-white walls. I turned it off as I stepped in and sat on the bed to activate the headboard light.

She stepped in behind me, falling her knees next to the bed; the door swooshed shut behind her. She knelt between my spread legs and rubbed her head against my thighs. I pulled her low-G top off, getting my first good look at her breasts.

She was definitely young, her breasts were firm and her nipples were hard. I took her nipples in my hand, first caressing them, then pulling on them. She moaned, and I watched as her body responded, her nipples growing firm under her hands.

I pulled my own top off, discarding my bra as I went. I kicked off my shoes. “Take off my pants,” I ordered her, and she undid my fly, and pulled. I lifted up off the bed, “Panties, too.”

She obliged, and pulled my pants off, standing against the wall to give herself enough space to pull them down. When my pants were in a pool beside the bed, I grabbed her wild red hair, and pulled it. She pulled back, fighting for a moment, and I laughed and pulled harder. She fell forward, back to her knees, and pressed her body against me.

I pushed her down, and pressed her lips against my cunt.

I was wet, and I wanted her now. She moaned against my mound, vibrating her lips against it. I felt her tongue parting her lips, then mine, finding my secret place with ease. She must have known what I wanted. She didn’t fuck around, and got me off fast. I grabbed her head, and held her there while I came. I left her there as I recovered.

The irrational part of my mind that had pushed for this moment since she walked into the bar finally subsided enough that I could think again. The rational part of my mind started planning now, instead of thinking about how I had to ditch her, since she was obviously either jailbait or in some worse kind of trouble. I was planning what I would do to her for the few weeks I’d have her on the ship, and only that short if we didn’t leave Earth orbit.

In other words, after those few seconds I was sold. But I’m a careful buyer, and she might have been lucky. She was already licking again, since I hadn’t pushed her away. I pulled her in tighter with my hands, and wrapped my thighs around her ears as she licked me. I fucked her face until I got off again.

It was time to get a look at the goods.

I made her stand up. She wobbled a bit in the heels, her chest was flushed with arousal, and her breathing fast and shallow. I pulled at the velcro straps of her skirt, and it fell off of her. I was right about the panties.

She was a natural redhead, her pussy hair thick red curls. The lips of her cunt stuck out, folding around her opening. My tongue ached for a taste, but I told myself to wait. I parted her lips with my finger, her skin was soft and pliant, and her breath caught as I slid my finger against her. I fondled her breast with my free hand, and brought it down to my lips.

She bent against me, wrapping her arms around me for balance. “Don’t come until I say,” I told her.

She groaned, “Yes.”

I pressed more firmly with my finger, moving slowly back and forth. I teased her nipple with my tongue in time to my other movements, and listened to her breathing. As she grew closer and closer, I looked up at her. She was looking off to one side of the room, her mind trying to be elsewhere, her lower lib caught in her teeth. I smiled to myself and began to move a little faster. She gasped and pressed against my hand. “Not yet,” I said.

She whined. I continued.

Her fingers gripped my shoulders, pressing into them, I could feel her nails against my back. I lightly bit her nipple, and sucked her breast into my mouth as I continued to tongue the tips of her nipple. I wrapped my hand around her breast, frigging her for all I was worth.

“Ready?” I asked. She nodded enthusiastically. “Not yet,” I said again, and watched her face as she tried her best to wait. I squeezed her breast, hard enough to be painful. “Now!” I said. “Come for me now.”

And she did. Her thighs squeezed my hand as she came, and she wobbled against me. I pulled her back, and let her collapse on the bed. My right hand never left her cunt, or stopped pressing against her clit. She smiled at me, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” I said.

She laughed, and lay next to me. I pulled myself up next to her on the bed, and she curled up next to me. “Okay,” I said. “That paid for the room. Now, why should I take you with me?”

She got up on her knees, and cupped her breasts, and pouted in a way that was both cute and fake. “Isn’t owning me enough?” she teased.

Chuckling, “But what, exactly, am I getting?”

“This,” she said, parting my legs an sitting between them. “And more.”

She slid two fingers inside of me, then three. She fucked me slowly, teasing my g-spot, and moving in and out of my cunt. She slid a fourth one in and I sighed contentedly. She fucked me like that, and I came around her fingers — a little one, just a precursor for the big one I knew she was working toward. “Ready?” she asked. I was wet enough, I knew. I just nodded.

I felt her adjust, and I knew what she was doing. Sliding her thumb into a circle with her other fingers, sliding it into me. She pressed against me, pushing against my cunt filling me up as full as she could. Her other hand settled on my mound, her thumb parting the cleft above my hole, teasing my clit. She twisted her hand inside of me, pressing in, making a fist out of her hand.

I felt my orgasm coming from a long way off, like the low thrum of engines on a large space liner. It was a low bass vibrating at the bottom of my spine; building and building as she pressed into me, and twisted and turned and teased me. And then it was on me, and in me, and taking me over completely. I wasn’t a ship captain or a lesbian pirate or anything but a solar flare of orgasm.

It’s that moment when you touch the Goddess, when you are everything and just yourself, when your whole body is focused on just one single divine thing. It didn’t happen that often, and almost never with someone you’d just met in a bar. I knew then, as I was coming down from it, that I’d made up my mind. She pulled out of me slowly, and lay down next to me.

I didn’t talk; we just lay there, skin on skin, blissful and happy. I wasn’t yet remembering that you pay for everything you get: there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. But I wouldn’t have cared, and despite what has happened, I still think it was worth it.

“Wow, that was something,” I finally said. “You are a wonderful lover. You know you’re coming with me.”

“I know, ” she said. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

I laughed, “No that’s true.” I adjusted her age to account for her obvious experience; she had to be older than 18.

“Actually,” she said, biting her lip. Then it dawned on me: no paperwork, no money. The clues were all there. It didn’t change anything about how I felt. I was taking her with me.

I kissed her soundly, pulling her to me, forcing my tongue between her lips. She moaned curled against me; I held her tightly in my arms. I would possess her, for as long as I could.

Clone or no.

Watching the Lesson

Mistress had given Amy a break, and she was on it when she heard a woman scream. She slipped between the walls into the secret hiding places, to see what she could see. Screaming women weren’t uncommon in Mistress’ household, and Amy was glad, that for once, it wasn’t her.

Someone was playing piano, so she slipped to the hidden spying place next to the conservatory. A young man, with short dark hair sat naked at the baby grand piano. His back was bright red, and one of Mistress’ heavy leather floggers lay draped over the piano’s mahogany lid. Amy couldn’t see the man’s face, but she could tell where he was looking.

On the other side of the piano was a girl. She looked to be about the man’s age, and she had long blonde hair that cascaded down her back. Her hands were bound behind her back, her legs spread wide by a metal bar attached to ankle cuffs. Mistress stood next to her with a crop in her hand. There was an angry red line across the girl’s large, firm breasts.

Amy smiled to herself as Mistress caught her eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Knowing Mistress approved, she slid a hand inside her skirt, to her moistening cunt. This would be good, Mistress’ games were always good, unless you were the one under the lash.

“That was one,” Mistress said to the man. “Look at this red line.” Mistress ran her hand over the woman’s breasts, the woman whimpered. “Make no more mistakes. If you continue like you have been, you won’t be able to see one line from another. I’d continue to beat you, but it’s too obvious you enjoy it.” Mistress stole a glance at his crotch, and Amy realized that the pianist must be hard, rampant and humiliated. She moved her hand faster against her crotch.

The girl whimpered again. “Please, Patrick, play well, like you did for the Duke.”

He nodded, and began to play again, a complex and beautiful piece. His finger slipped, even Amy could tell it was a flat note. Mistress swung, bringing the crop cruelly down on the blonde’s breasts. “Mary,” Patrick cried out, in the process making several other wrong notes.

Mistress swung three times more, and three more bright red marks appeared on the Mary’s breasts. Amy felt her cunt begin to tighten, and slowed her movements down. She wanted to savor this for as long as her break might last.

“I’d suggest you continue playing,” Mistress said, twirling the crop in her hand. Her free hand cupped the blonde’s breasts, and she licked them as the young girl whimpered in pain. “Your nipples are hard, Mary, maybe you enjoy this too?”

“No no no no…” Mary pleaded, as her body betrayed her. Amy orgasmed as the young girl pleaded, a knuckle between her teeth, to keep her quiet.

“Play, Patrick,” Mistress demanded. “And get it right, or I’ll keep whipping your fiancée.”

Patrick began playing again, and Amy realized her break was over. Before Mistress could notice, she slipped away and back to her chores. Maybe next time, she would be under the crop, or learning piano at Mistress’ careful hands.

Under The Pine

Sweat beaded on his forehead, despite being in the shade. Greensboro summers were hot. He wanted to reach up, and brush the sweat out of his eyes, but it was impossible. Mistress had bound his hands behind his back moments after she led him under the boughs of the pine.

She had pointed it out to him, as they’d driven through the campus a few days before. “Look, over there,” she said, pointing as she drove. He had looked over and seen them: huge towing pines, like giant Christmas trees, their boughs draping down, against the ground. They were about twenty feet lower than the road itself, but still rose high above them. “Inside them,” she said, “There is a clear area where it would be easy to stand, or lie down; to have a picnic or something other, and no one would be able to see.”

As she unbuckled his pants, he could hear the college students roaming around the campus, making college student noises. No one had seem them sneak under the pine, and no one could see them, he hoped. Mistress had gagged him to be sure he wouldn’t attract attention. She lowered his jeans and underwear together. His cock was limp because he was so worried that someone would see them, that they’d be found.

She stood next to him, and whispered in his ear as she fondled his cock and balls with one hand. “You worried?” she asked. He nodded, and she squeezed his balls. “You mean you don’t trust me?” she demanded.

He shook his head no, and she smiled. He felt himself grow hard from her manhandling. It always worked. She knelt before him, and nuzzled his cock. “I said you’d get a reward, didn’t I? This is it. When was the last time I went down on you?”

He shook his head, and tried to shrug, but his bound arms made it uncomfortable. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d sucked his cock, and never on her knees in front of him. Of course, with the noise, and the cuffs – her selection, all part of her plan, there was no doubt who was in control.

Her lips slid over his cock, and he moaned around the gag. Somewhere nearby someone was playing Frisbee. What if they threw it at the tree? He wondered. She grabbed his balls and sucked harder, moving faster and faster over him.

She squeezed his balls, and he heard cars drive slowly by – like they always did, but he had to wonder: could they see him, bound here, helpless, a fully dressed woman kneeling before him, squeezing his balls with her vice-like grip, her lips sucking, drawing his cum out of him? He gasped and felt his orgasm rise, and then he shuddered, spilling his cum into her mouth.

She chuckled and stood up. She released the quick-release straps on the gag, and kissed him, his cum in her mouth. He lapped it up, like he knew she wanted. “That was a good treat, wasn’t it, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he agreed.

She kissed him on the cheek. “It’s what you get for being good. Just think if it happened more often.”


The CyBerTronic Fully Immersive Computer Based Training System is the first of it’s kind to do automated training in a fully realized 3D universe. Here you can learn anything from accounting to zoology all from the comfort of one of our CyBerTronic booths. UTrain Marketing Pamphlet

Dennis looked over the instructions pamphlet the receptionist had handed him. All existing and prospective employees had to update their training.  He’d been offered a job, but only after showing his proficiency in the new immersive CyBerTronic training booths. Dennis thought it a bit ironic that the wonderful new training pods needed paper instructions. Still, he needed the job, and Rossum offered a great training package which should help keep him employed, and his skills up to date.. According to the brochure he could even learn things like knitting or sculpture with the booths, but he was mainly here for tech training.

The light over the door came on and Dennis stood to enter the room with the booth. He stepped in, closed the door behind him, and looked at the booth. It was a reclining pod of some kind that closed around you — sort of like a tanning bed, but tilted at a more comfortable angle. It popped open and a naked woman stepped out.

“Oh!” he said. “I didn’t realize you had to be naked for the training.” He looked away, but not before seeing her breasts and the way her nipples stood out, hard and crinkly.

“You don’t,” she said. “It’s just more fun that way. I can tell you’re new. People who’ve done this before know to wait a few minutes after the light goes on. Not that I mind. You’re cute.”

Dennis blushed and felt a stirring in his pants at the way she was talking.”I’m really sorry,” he said.

 “You can look now,” she said. “I’m decent…. for some values of decent, anyway.”

He looked at her again, she’d pulled a loose sundress on, but it was obvious she was still aroused, those nipples he’d caught a glance of pressed against the cotton of her dress. Her hair was shoulder length and wavy. There was a nice blush to her cheeks, and a bit of sheen of sweat on her brow. She looked like she’d been working out.

“I’m Dennis,” he said. “I’m here for database training.”

“I just took a refresher, myself. I’m Alice.” She slipped on a pair of flats and grabbed a small purse off of a small table he hadn’t noticed.

“I didn’t think databases would be so… energetic,” he said.

She giggled at that. “Well, it’s a good workout.” She walked up to him, kissed him on the cheek. “Trust me, you should get naked. It works much better that way,” she said. “See you around.” And with that she was gone.

What is clear is that hackers penetrated our outer firewall, and dropped a payload of some kind. It’s a virus, but doesn’t target our normal systems, and it appears that it has a sub-payload that doesn’t map to any of our standard computers. I don’t know if we’ll ever know what it was supposed to hit. IT Security Report (internal), Rossum National Staffing

The brochure did say that skin contact increased the neuro-responsiveness of the system. Alice had obviously been around longer than he had, and probably knew better. Dennis bit his lip, and shrugged. He’d worn boxers today, anyway, they’d pull on fast, and he’d put them where he could reach them from inside the pod. Plus he needed the training, and the jobs it afforded.

He folded his clothes and put them on the table, then slid off the boxers before stepping into the tube. He had to trust that if someone else was naked here he’d have some privacy. Maybe he wouldn’t be this hard when he got out of the training, at least.

The tube closed around him, and a quiet feminine voice urged him to relax. “Deploying nano-spray,” it said, and the chamber filled with a dewy gas that coated his skin and smelled of cinnamon. He freaked out for a moment as the liquid encased his body. The voice said, “Initiating Simulation” and then he was … somewhere else.

He was standing in a huge void, wearing a skin-tight blue suit with the Rossum logo on it. An attractive woman in a severe, yet professional grey suit and black high heeled boots stood next to him. The boots made her tall, probably a couple of inches taller than him. Dennis smiled at her. Her face reminded him of April, although a bit more severe.

She carried a clipboard, and spoke in the same voice as the chamber. “Dennis Carlton?” He nodded, and she waited.

“Yes,” and when there was no response. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“You’re here for Relational Database Design in MS SQL and Oracle, correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responded.

“You’ll do well,” she smiled. “Follow me.”

She began to walk away, and he felt compelled to follow — almost pulled, like he was on a chain. His eyes were drawn to her ass, which was impossibly perfect, and swayed as she walked. Definitely a simulation he thought. Also, this was no way to get rid of that embarrassing erection.

As they walked, the surrounding changed into a basic classroom. The woman’s outfit changed slightly, mainly the addition of horned-rimmed glasses, and her skirt shortened a bit. “Before training can begin, you will be subjected to a refresher to determine basic capabilities, and ensure you have the necessary mindset to continue the curriculum. Answer all questions; incorrect answers will be punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Dennis could have sworn that the suit got a size smaller; it was definitely uncomfortable. “Yes, Ma’am, I understand.”

“Good. Stand at the head of the class, Mr. Carlton.”

Once again it was like he was being pulled — by the neck, or by the balls, he wasn’t sure. He stood in front of a large blackboard, and the woman stood to the side, leaning on a virtual desk.

A question appeared on the board, and he didn’t know the answer.

“The new training systems are working well, and cross-training is up. We’re able to place more of the workers, which is good for both us and for them. Interestingly, it appears the most pliable workers are the ones doing the majority of cross-training, with the Type As avoiding it entirely.” HR Internal Memo, Rossum National Staffing

The blackboard read, “In terms of databases, what is DDL? You can answer with an example.” Dennis had no idea what the answer was or any clue as to what it could be. To him, it sounded like something he’d learn in his training.

“If it’s about databases, wouldn’t it be covered in the training?

“That is a question and neither a correct answer nor an example.” Her lips pursed, and Dennis felt the weird suit he was wearing tighten, and shrink. The blue skin-tight suit slid off his shoulders and chest, and up his legs until it covered no more than a pair of swim trunks. Skin-tight swim trunks that showed every bulge of his (still hard) cock and balls.

“Uh…” he said. “Digital Download?” He’d heard that somewhere, and was as good as anything, right?

“That is a version of the term,” she said. “But it is not in the realm of databases. That’s your second try.”

The suit shrunk again, until he was standing there naked. The blue material clung to his cock and balls, though. The Rossum logo was even there, obscenely stretched over the head of his cock. Dennis swallowed hard.

“Please answer the question to the best of your ability, Mr. Carlton.” Dennis was sure she was smiling, almost like she was enjoying this and wasn’t a computer simulation. The suit began to pulse as though a hand was tightening over his cock and balls in time to his heartbeat. It was warm, distracting, and would have felt really pleasant if he knew the answer to the question.

One of the “Ds” almost had to be data, he mused. The other was the grade he was getting on this quiz, or the slang term for what he was worried might get cut off if he didn’t figure this out. “Data download?” he ventured.

“Incorrect,” she said with a gleam in her eye. “You’re just guessing. Moving to Motivational Level 2.”

Dennis let out a gasp
as the suit tightened around his cock as though someone grabbed it and squeezed as tight as they could. It constricted around the base of his balls, and then extruded out, pulling his balls away from his body and, not incidentally, making him cry out in pain. It hurt like hell, and yet, he was still hard.

“Please answer, Mr. Carlton.”

“I can’t,” he said through clenched teeth. “I don’t fucking know the answer!”

“Correct,” she said. Immediately the suit went back to gently throbbing. The release from the pain was almost — but not quite — orgasmic. The continued pressure kept him aroused and wary that he could do through that again. “If you had known the answer, you would have proceeded on to level 2 of the training course after release, and my re-attire in more arousing clothing. Finishing this course satisfactorily will result in a similar reward.”

“Release?” he said. Could he not exit the training on demand?

“Indeed,” she said. “Please watch these tutorial videos. On hand experimentation followed by testing will ensue.”

Two IT teams attempted decompiling the virus. The all-male team disappeared for five days, returning with receipts for a hotel stay and prostitution services in Reno. The mixed gender team was found in the executive boardroom; the two female staff were ‘pulling a train’. We paid the first to cover it up and no harassment charges were filed in the second. Memo from CIO, Rossum National Staffing

The videos were as boring as any he’d ever seen. The main difference was that when his attention would wander, the suit would move from gentle throb to tight squeeze until he returned his attention to the issue.

He got a bit of a reprieve during the experimentation phase, since it was actually interesting to do something more hands-on. Plus he was rewarded for his enthusiasm, as the suit settled into a rippling motion that almost felt like someone slowly jerking him off. Never enough to get off, but enough to keep him aroused and hard. It should have been more distracting, but the price of that kept him focused.

Then came the part he really dreaded. The test. He didn’t like tests anyway, and after the earlier questioning he was a bit nervous about doing poorly. When it started, the blackboard reappeared, as well as his guide. She still had the glasses and clipboard, but now she also had a riding crop in one hand.

She swished it through the air a few times, and smiled at him. “Time for an assessment!” she said. “You will need to score an 80% or better to move on; scoring 90% or higher will earn release. Are you ready to begin?”

There was that word again, release. He hadn’t actually thought about ending the session, but then he realized he didn’t really know how. He’d read most of the pamphlet, but seeing Alice naked knocked most of that out of his mind. Well, he thought, better just try to ace this thing.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said. She just smiled and the suit began slowly jerking him off again.

The questions came quickly, right from the start. Dennis was amazed at how the answers came to him. With each right answer, the suit’s massage of his cock went faster.  He moved from the lowball easy questions on to harder and harder ones, but the challenge wasn’t just mental. As the questions got harder, the part of the suit encasing his balls got tighter, as if to remind him of the risk of making an error.

The sensations were overwhelming and caused him to mis-read a question, and call out the wrong answer. The suit tightened even more firmly than it had at the beginning, squeezing and twisting his cock, and compressing his balls hard. He gasped at the pain and re-answered the question, this time correctly.  “Acceptable,” the woman said, tapping her crop to the tops of her boots, and the suit eased up on the pain.

He felt warmth flow through him at her words, and then it all started again. The squeezing of his balls, the stroking of his cock. The questions, coming faster and more and more difficult. He paid the best attention he could, and called out the answers with confidence. Then the final question appeared — the same one he’d started his day with, only now he knew the answer. “Data Definition Language!” He said, laughing.

“Excellent,” she said. “You have demonstrated proficiency of the material, and an ability to retain the knowledge. As a warning, you will be expected to reiterate key portions of this before moving on to the level two training.

“Also you have scored 99.5% on the assessment test, qualifying you for release. Due to your high score, I will be administering your release. For level 1 classes, that means via oral stimulation. Are you ready?”

“Yes, ma’am?” he said.

She smiled and knelt in front of him. The suit spread out over his body, leaving only his cock and balls uncovered. She looked up at him over her glasses, and took him into her mouth. Her mouth was warm and wet, and he marveled at the completeness of the simulation. She swallowed him down full, and slid back off of him, carefully in control.

When he couldn’t help it and tried to move, to thrust into her, she pulled off of him. “No, Mr. Carlton. Not at level 1 at least.” He moaned, and she wrapped a hand around his balls and squeezed as she slipped her mouth back over him.

It didn’t take long for him to come.
VOICE 1 (HR Director): My question is liability. What if someone sues?
VOICE 2 (Female, unknown): Well the reports are clear: no one has complained..
VOICE 1: No one? Really?
VOICE 2: There’s been some who didn’t take further training. However, those who do continue are more satisfied, more capable and –frankly– more biddable
VOICE 1: Excellent.
Audio logs, UTrain CyBerTronic HQ

The room was empty when the pod opened up. He was also clean of any of the spray and, thankfully, ejaculate. He was sweaty though, it had been as Alice said, quite a workout. He pulled on his clothes, and was adjusting his socks and shoes when the door opened up and a petite woman walked in. Like Alice she was wearing a simple sundress.

He smiled at her. “I’m almost done. I’ll wear something simpler next time.”

“Your first time?” she asked.

He nodded. “But I’ll be back to try those higher levels.”

“Tell me about it,” she laughed. She pulled off her dress even before he left. She was attractive, and he glanced over her, wondering if her guide would look like him or not. Who knew Computer Based Training could be so exciting.

Over Dinner

I was in the kitchen, dressed in a simple sarong, wrapped around my waist for comfort. I was preparing our dinner and waiting for her to get home: hamburger was browning on our small gas stove, and bread was baking in the oven.  She must have gotten home early, when I heard the front door slam  A few moments later she stepped into the kitchen.

She was wearing her work outfit: flannel shirt unbuttoned, a sleeveless shirt on underneath. Her hair was cut short, but still mussed from her hard hat, which was tucked under her arm. I could see her nipples pressed against the white cotton of her undershirt. Just under her work belt, her pink cock poked out of her khakis.

She motioned with her chin, and I knew to turn around, over the stove. Placing my hands on either side of our cooking dinner, I felt my cock go firmly erect. Surreptitiously, I turned off the gas. The belt and hat hit the ground, and I felt her hands shove the sarong aside.

She leaned against me, her cock sliding up the crack of my ass as she did it. Her body pushed me down towards the burners as she reached over me. “Extra virgin,” she chuckled as she grabbed the bottle from the shelf over me. “As if.”

She chuckled to herself as she uncapped the bottle. I listened to the slippery noises of her masturbating the eight-inch dildo and felt myself get harder. Her oily hand pressed against my asshole, coating it and preparing me for her inevitable invasion.

I felt the tip of her cock press against my asshole.  One of her hands pressed against the small of my back, the other pulled my right ass cheek to the side. She slid inside me, and we moaned together.

“You like it when I fuck you, don’t you?” she whispered into my ear.

It wasn’t a question.

“You like it when your daddy comes home from work and takes your sissy little ass. Don’t you?”

She was above me, pounding into me, taking me. One of her hands circled around my waist and grabbed my hard, pulsing cock. “Oh yes you do, you do,” she said, laughing.

Dinner sizzled below me, even off the heat, and I grabbed the sides of the stove to keep her from pushing me into it as she f ucked my ass.  She pounded into me, slipping and sliding.  Her hand on my cock followed her rhythm, back and forth.

My knees grew weak as my arousal grew.  She slammed into me, and ground against me. I felt her shudder behind me as her orgasm caused her to clench all over.  Her hand on my cock squeezed painfully as I shot out my own orgasm, splattering cum against front of the oven.

I stood there in front of the oven, drained, unable to move yet. She slid off and out of me and tossed her cock in the sink. I heard her zip up her pants and start to walk out.

“Clean this shit up,” she said.  “And make my dinner. I’m fucking hungry.”

Indelibly (2/2)

Part one of Indelibly.

The elevator lights counted up twelve floors as I stood there, looking at the tattoo on her left arm, reading the challenge. I would have to read all her words and do what they said. As as I did she would reveal more of herself — more of her words to me.

“You can stop whenever you want,” she said. “You just won’t see the rest.”

That was the difficult part. I wondered if I’d be able to stop if I wanted. I wondered if I’d want to. My breath felt raspy and ragged as I thought through the implications of what she was saying. The elevator dinged, and opened onto her floor. She handed me her card. “I’m in room 1238.” Once again I tried to sneak a peek at her left arm’s writing, but saw nothing new as she waved me on.

I opened her door and held it for her as she went inside. I followed her in, and she handed me her coat to hang up. She walked into her room as I did, trying to resist the urge to stare at her tattoos.

The room was a typical hotel room with a king-sized bed. There was a small functional bathroom, a desk, a television, and a couple of chairs. She sat in one, with her legs out, crossed at the ankle. “You wanted to see, right Kyle?” she asked, waving me to her with her left arm.

I approached her and she held out her hand. I took it in mine. The tattoo started just above her wrist and wound up around her arm. I read it aloud. “These things are yours to do: to speak the truth, to caress and kiss, to show obedience.”

“What truth shall I speak?”

“The words, if they are true,” she said. “Or, more simply, don’t lie.”

“And obey the words, and caress and kiss them?”

“It would be a start,” she said.

I took her right hand in mine, and traced the first word “They” and whispered it aloud before kissing it. I worked my way up her arm, and around. The final word, I traced with my tongue before whispering it, “command,” into her ear. Then I took her left arm and did the same. Her breathing got a bit faster, and more shallow as I worked. Then, finally, I whispered her left arms’ final word, “obedience” in her ear.

She turned to me then, and kissed me, pulling my lips to hers. She parted my mouth with her tongue, and we kissed long and hard. “That’s a very good start,” she said. “There are more.”

She slid the strap off her right shoulder, letting it fall down her arm. The top of her dress fell, uncovering her right breast. The words started below it, and spiraled up onto it, ending just outside her areola. It was a simple command, that I desperately wanted to follow: “Caress and tease and touch and kiss.”

I took her breast into my hand and traced the words around with my fingers. I teased her nipple with my fingers, feeling them stiffen as I worked. I leaned down and kissed the words, ending with a kiss on her nipple. As I leaned back from the kiss, she dropped the other strap, revealing a similar tattoo on her left breast.

“Nip and squeeze and lick and suckle.” I leaned back into her right breast, and lightly bit her nipple, before turning to her left. I smiled at her, and took both breasts in my hands, and squeezed them. I licked her nipples, and then began to suck them. She sighed, and ran one of her hands through my hair, pulling me to her nipple. The other held her dress in place, confirming to me that there was more she was hiding, beyond just her legs.

After a moment, she pulled me up by my hair, and I let her.. We kissed some more. She was as hot and bothered as I was. She pulled back from the kiss. “The rest is more intense,” she said. “More demanding from you. I want you now, though. I can turn off the light, and go to my bed.”

“But then I won’t see your tattoos until morning.”

“Not even then,” she said.

“I need to see,” I said. I rubbed my pelvis against her; I knew she could feel how hard, how needy I was.

“Then you need to remove my boot,” she said. She pushed me away, and I slipped down her body until I was kneeling in front of where she sat. Melinda lifted her left leg and placed her left foot in my hands. I reached up and unzipped the boot, then took the heel in one hand and pulled the shoe off her her feet. She stretched the foot, arching it against my hands.

I kissed her toes, and she laughed. “Read the words, Kyle. There will be time for that later.”

The script started at her ankle. I traced it with my fingers and brought my lips to each word, whispering each while my lips brushed over it. “Low to the ground, kiss the thighs of the one you will obey.” I kissed the word “kiss” that I’d seen on her earlier, teasing the place behind her knee before sliding up to her left thigh.

I pushed her dress up and she helped, pulling at it. The final word ended at that sensitive place on the inner thigh. I french kissed that spot, teasing and sucking — invoking those other words — until she pushed my head away. “Do the other leg now, Kyle.”

“In a hurry?”

“No more than you.”

There was truth in that, although I thought I’d reached a plateau of horniness. I didn’t think I could be any more aroused than I was at that moment, but I was conflicted. I had to know the words, and I wanted to sink my cock deep in her and be surrounded by her words forever. Ultimately, I had to know the words more, so I pulled off her second boot and set it aside.

She let out a sigh. “This is the one,” she said. “This is where you’ll stop.”


“There’s always the bed, Kyle. I’m not trying to trap or tease you.”

“I don’t think you understand how much I want to know all your words, Melinda.”

She shuddered then, and let out a low moan. “You are so beautiful down there, Kyle. Read my words, for Gods sake! Don’t keep me in suspense any longer.”

“You?” I said, but took her foot in my hand and kissed it. “Commit” was the first word. “Forever” was higher. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, reading the whole thing. “Commit yourself forever to her care; promise with your gentle touch.”

I read it out loud, and then ran my hand slowly up her leg, tracing that tattoo’s script as I went. This one was longer than the other leg, and went all the way up to her panties. I kissed her thighs, and she writhed on the chair. “Is this what you want?” she whispered. In response, I just teased the words with my tongue and played a gentle rhythm over the sensitive spot in her thighs.

While I kissed her, I reached up under her skirt, and latched my fingers under the waistband of her panties. She stopped me with her hands. “This is the last challenge Kyle. Once you read these words and obey them, there’s no going back.”

How must it have felt to get a tattoo there? It was like she’d dedicated her body to my fetish, to being a temple to my desire. The question then was would I commit myself, would I go on?

“You’ve committed yourself forever to these words,” I said. I spoke slowly and traced the matching words on her skin as I spoke.

es,” she said. Her hands gripped the arms of her chair so tightly they were red.

“You want someone as committed to you as you were to getting these.”


I looked up at her then. “Someone who will be the only one to see them. Who will want to see them, and obey them. And you.” She looked down at me with a gaze I couldn’t read. She was teetering between hope and loss, and control and chaos. I slid my hands back up the outside of her thighs, bunching her dress around her midriff.

Her back straightened as I hooked my fingers once more in her panties. Her hands unclenched and something in her seemed to settle. I wasn’t sure what I was submitting to: my own desire to see the words. her commitment to wearing them. or to Melinda herself. I wasn’t sure that it mattered, because without her none of it was possible.

I pulled her panties down.

Her muff was the soft fine hair that blond women have; her words stood out well behind her hair. Above her lips — her wet, aroused lips — were the words. “Be mine: lick.” I moved forward, and her legs parted to grant me access. Her hands threaded through my hair, touching me but not insistent, not yet. That waited until my tongue slid between her folds and then, then she pulled me tight to her and thrust against my face.

Her bare feet found my hard cock. I was still dressed, still wearing my nice dinner pants, but my cock was hard and obvious. She put her feet on either side of my cock, and I rocked back and forth against them. My tongue slid in and back in the same rhythm: lick and thrust, lick and thrust.

Her breathing was fast, but she was otherwise quiet, controlled. She began to rock me back and forth with her hands, controlling the speed, controlling the motion. I licked and sucked and nipped — all as her words commanded me. My cock was hard and raw, and then I was coming in my pants, soiling them. But her hands were still insistent, her pussy wet and hot and inviting. I kept licking and rubbing and thrusting back and forth.

Then she grabbed me. She grabbed me with her hand and legs and words, and pulled me in and held me there. I licked and sucked as best I could for someone who couldn’t breath. She cried out and shook against me; it seemed like forever, but couldn’t have been that long. It was long enough that I was gasping for air (or, perhaps, from release) when she let me go.

She pushed me away for a bit, pulled the dress off, and she was there, gloriously naked except for her words and her sweat. There were more there, on her midriff, and I moved forward to read them. “Whisper promises” was tattooed around her bellybutton, and I whispered into it, “I am as indelibly marked as your skin.” Up from there, and ending just below her breasts was “Lay your head to rest.”

I lifted myself up, still kneeling at her feet; she pulled me up with her hands, and I put my head there on her breastbone where the words were written. She wrapped herself around me, enfolding me with all her words. Yet there were many blank places to write my future commands, I realized. But I didn’t say anything.

I just rested my head between my Mistress’ breasts on her words to me.

Indelibly (1/2)

I met Melinda at a local industry trade show. Her company was marketing some ghee-whiz gadget she had been the lead designer on.  My company sold accounting software tailored to the same market — my job was just to do setup and get out of Marketing’s way. It was kind of cool, actually, but you don’t want to hear about that, I guess.

Melinda was wearing a light jacket over a sleeveless blouse, pants and calf-length boots when I met her, which is why I was able to talk to her in the first place. If she’d worn what she wore to dinner, this never would have happened. I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself and she wouldn’t have given me the time of day. As it was, I did make a fool of myself, but it was the second or third impression instead of the first one.

But I get ahead of myself.

I was setting up our booth, which involved crawling around on the floor and setting up PCs and a mini-server for the actual sales reps. I was working pretty hard and not paying attentin. She could have been watching me for hours, and I wouldn’t have known. I looked up and there she was, leaning half over the booth in a way that pushed up her breasts a bit. Her skin was mostly covered, as I said, which meant I wasn’t too flustered.

“Hi,” she said.

“Um, hello,” I replied.

“I was wondering if you had an extra outlet over there. They were supposed to supply us with surge protectors, but there weren’t any here.”

“Oh,” I said. “Ah… sure.” I stood up and brushed the dirt off my knees and she just smiled. She was about my age, brown eyes and blonde hair pulled back in a bun. “But you can get them from the organizers.” I pointed back to the table where all the vendors had to sign in.

“Well, then,” she said. She smiled at me and her eyes lit up a bit. “I guess that makes the most sense, and keeps things from interfering.” She set her plug down, and then leaned back over the wall. “Will you be manning the show?”

“Oh, no,” I said. “I’m just here to set up. They don’t let us tech guys out to see the public.”

She laughed. “Well, I’m the tech-gal for us, and no one understand the product like I do, therefore I’m forced to do these things.”

“You have my condolences,” I said.

She laughed. “You live in town, then?”

“Yep, we’re based out of here.”

“We are too,” she said. “After all this, I think I’d like to spend some time with a regular guy. Would you like to dinner?”

I blushed, I’m sure. I hadn’t seen much of her, but she was beautiful. And I don’t get out much. “With me?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I could see you knew what you were doing, crawling around down there. I get tired of always talking to sales and marketing people.”

“O-okay,” I said. Then with more confidence, “Sure!”

“Great,” she said. “Tonight at 7? At Simon’s?” I nodded and she put out her hand. “I’m Melinda, by the way.”

“Kyle,” I said. As our hands shook, she turned her hand so hers was on top. Her jacket rode up on her arm, and I saw a bit of a tattoo there. It was a word, maybe with a capital T. I took a deep breath, and felt a wave of lust rush through me. “I, uh, look forward to dinner very much Melinda.”

“Cool,” she said. “See you then.”

I tried to be cool. ‘Tried’ being the operative word. I had a date, with a woman. She’d even asked me out, which of course was how I had a date with a woman. But more importantly, she had a tattoo. A tattoo with words.

And that was all I could think about.

What did it say? Was it a quote, a thought, a poem? Was it only on her arm? Were there other quotes, or other words on her? She seemed normal, dressed in her business suit, but she wasn’t, and that bit of tattoo was the hint that she was just a bit odd, right? Odd like me?

I don’t know where my fascination for tattoos came from. One of my early girlfriends had one, a butterfly just above her ass. She liked to fuck doggie style and I’d watch it whenever we had sex. I’d rub it with my finger and she’d urge me on whenever I touched it. My next girlfriend had stars over her ovaries, and demanded that I kiss and lick them before I went down on her. A proper kiss, then a couple of licks on her pussy, and she’d roll me over and ride me hard. My longest relationship was with a woman who had a poem tattooed over her heart. I’d recite it to her between kisses on her breasts as we made slow, sweet love. She’d pushed me to get my own tat, but I’d always resisted — I think that finally ended things for us.

Those three experiences kind of locked it in for me. I’d had one night stands with women with no tattoos, but never more than that. I don’t know if it was just me — a fetish or something — or if it was something about my personality and the kind of person who gets ink. Of course, I’d become fascinated by tattoos; by now they were a fetish for me, and I needed my lover to have one. And when I could see one on a woman, at least one who was available, I often lost all control or civility, I admit. Which is why it was good that Melinda had approached me without me realizing she had such wonderful ink on her.

The day I met Madeline, I got nothing else done. Except some web surfing about tattoos of words.

At least I had enough focus to get myself home, cleaned up and back to the convention area in time for dinner. Since she was local we could have gone anywhere, but back downtown to Simon’s it was. It was one of the nicer restaurants in town, and had the advantage of being connected to the hotel and convention center. I parked in a nearby lot, and walked in. I was there fifteen minutes early, of course; she was waiting for me when I go there.

Again she wore a jacket, but this time over a black dress that came down to her knees. I wasn’t sure if the boots were the same, but they came up to her calves, leaving a short gap between their tops and the hem of the skirt. On the outer side of the left leg, in the same script as her arm, was the word ‘kiss.’ As I approached her,she turned, and I saw on the inner part of her right leg, in the same gap, was written ‘fore’.

I felt myself stir as desire to read her words, to see all of what was written on her passed over me. I wanted to see her naked, or as naked as was required to see everything written on her. And I wanted her. I wanted her very very much right then.

She turned to me and smiled. “Kyle!,” she said. “You made it, I’m glad.” Her hair was in a ponytail and it swung from one side to the other as she spoke.

“Melinda,” I said, reaching out to take her hand. “Of course I made it. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” As we shook, I quickly looked down.  This jacket was a bit shorter than the one she wore to the trade show.  The word that began with “T” was “They”.

“Me too,” she said.

Soon we were being seated, and talking lightly about our industry. “So what do you do, Kyle?” she asked.

“I’m IT,” I said. “All of it. I have an assistant, but we do all the IT stuff for the company. Cloud apps help.”

“How big is your company?”

“Around 200 or s

“That’s pretty impressive, working with just two people in IT.”

“Thanks,” I said. I admit I blushed a bit from her praise. “It’s not like R&D, though. That must be interesting.”

“I like it,” she said.

I asked her what she did day-to-day and she lost me in a jumble of science and technical details that I just barely understood or had heard before. All geeks and nerds and tech people size each other up when they meet, see where they are in the hierarchy. I’ve never been high, but I’m the most technical person at my company. Melinda left me in the dust. There was no doubt she was smarter than me.

As I listened to her talk, I started to wonder what I was doing there, hopelessly outclassed by this woman. It only intrigued me more, made me want her more. Her obvious intelligence meant that the only way I’d ever figure out her words was to see them myself. It didn’t help that I saw her left hand as well, and it had the word “these” on it. “These”, “they”, “kiss” and “fore”.

“Fore” was too short or archaic though, it could be forewarned or forearmed or, and I thought this was right: forever. “They kiss these forever,” I thought. An intriguing combination, but not the words went together, of course. I had to know, and I was no match for her. There was no way to win this.

It must have shown on my face, because she stopped talking about her gizmo for a bit. “What is it Kyle, am I boring you?”

“Not at all,” I said. “Although you lost me a few turns back. I’m afraid I’m not up on that tech.”

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I’m pretty passionate about my work; sometimes I tend to go on about it, in the hopes that someone will understand some of it.”

“Well I got some of it,” I said. “I guess that’s why I’m here.”

“In part,” she said.


“Your ass was also very cute where you were crawling around on the floor,” she said.

“Oh,” I said, blushing. She just smiled at me.

“I’ve embarrassed you,” she said. “I’m sorry, I can be too forward sometimes. It’s just that when I want something I go and get it.”

“And what do you want?” I asked.

She smiled and leaned back. “First, I want to know what you want. You’ve seemed distracted all evening.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I admit, I’ve got a bit of an obsession for tattoos. I need to know what all yours say.”

“Need?” she asked. She stood up, dropping her napkin on her plate. She stood too close to me then, towering over me a bit. She put her hand on my chin as I looked up at her. “Well, Kyle, that’s up to you. There’s a price to seeing all my tats, and reading all my words. But I can guarantee you that if you’re willing to pay the price, you’ll see every last one of them.”

I felt myself go rigid then. My cock was hard in my pants, pressing against my briefs. My voice broke as I spoke. “I-I’d like that ver-very much.”

Her finger brushed my cheek. “Oh, you are going to be fun.”

She signed her room number to the check, and led me to the elevator.

I was going to see them! To read the words she felt important enough to ineradicably stain her body. I was rock hard as she led me to the elevator.

She stepped on the elevator as it opened, and I entered behind her. “Help me with my jacket,” she said.

“O-of course,” I said. I held the collar of her jacket, and she slipped out of it. I tried to see around her to read the words written on her arms, but we were the same height and the heels in her boots gave her an advantage. She took the coat from me, and draped it over her left arm, obscuring it. The top of her dress was held up by straps, but showed very little cleavage. Every part of it was meant to obscure precisely what I wanted to see, I was sure.

“Here,” she said holding out her right arm. “This is the start of it, and the price to see the rest.”

I took her hand in mine and read aloud what was written there. “They shall always be mine, those who read all my words and follow their every command.” I looked up at her. “What commands are written on you that I would have to follow?”

“Well, that’s part of the test,” she said. “You’ll have to decide once you see them.”

Once again a rush of lust washed over me. I was going to see her words and read them.

And obey them, a small part of me whispered. And obey them.

Return next Friday, January 11, 2013 to see the conclusion to Indelibly. As always, your comments and feedback are appreciated!