Catamite Pt. 18

True to her word, Annette let him sleep in her wide, comfortable bed, and he stayed there until one of the chamber maids appeared to change the linens. The maid departed without completing her task, giving him time to dress and reorient himself to the mid-afternoon sun and confusion of his routines and regulations.

She had, in the time he slept, dressed in day clothing, reapplied makeup and changed her hair, though asides from a few loose tendrils, the blonde coils were covered by a simple house cap. Timmans had evidently recovered and was back at work dressing her mistress.

“I don’t like your face, it’s too prickly,” her fingers lightly brushed his cheek. “It’s uncomfortable when I slap you.”

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Catamite Pt. 15

Annette came back early, more tired than the shortness of her ride justified. After the tedious business of side saddle mounting, a horse with a lame foot and some worry about the possibility of rain, the women had only been able to follow the trail to the point that it crossed the road, and there they’d been met by a soldiers’ checkpoint. They had no issues with the matter of identification or the acceptance of their papers, but the soldiers had turned them away anyway, citing danger to life and limb.

The ongoing insurrection had been particularly loud that week, derailing a train, blowing up police stations, and recently, leaving an informer crucified in the middle of the little village about eight miles away. A little gathering of respectable ladies, no matter how well chaperoned by their guards, were far too tempting a target for the soldiers to be willing to risk and the armed and armoured men made grovelling apologies, especially in light of who Annette’s father had been. She could have pressed the point, if she’d wished, but she saw the wisdom in the soldier’s caution and agreed with their decision. And so the pre-dinner entertainment was a write off and each woman retired to her own pursuits: Agatha into a fashion video downloaded straight from the runways of the capital, and Patricia went for a walk around the grounds with Pitor as an escort.

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Catamite Pt. 13

The ropes were a dirty dun colour, thin, but wound several times around his body in rippled bands so that the bite of one cord was negated by its sisters. Such comforts gave him the full ability to concentrate on the hanging weights and the cross linked cords that made each of the four men intimately connected and gave them one contact point with the ground.

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Catamite Pt. 12

Annette sat just above his groin, her bodice in disarray and her skirt in crumpled folds to that her lace covered legs were fully exposed. She was pinching, all over his skin, where there weren’t freshly sealed cuts from his last misadventure. Her hands would grab a patch of skin and yank hard until he groaned and this would make her twist on top of him, pushing her pelvis hard and scrubbing back and forth.

Phillip remained inert under her grinding, letting her use his body like dough, pummelling and kneading it. She pulled his ears, put her fingernail into the delicate skin just inside his ear canal and bit his lip when she kissed him. Cruelty begat cruelty, her nails raked his neck and shoulders and she slapped his face.

Slapping carried its own sort of pain, so close to the eyes that it picked tears out of their ducts, despite his acceptance. He’d let his whole body go flaccid, surrendering to whatever she was intending until her barrage of hurt ended, but every time she slapped he had to scrunch up his face and move his jaw.

“Adam, darling?” Annette had her hand around his neck, but she’d stopped hitting him.

“Please, my Lady, is this my punishment for losing tonight?”

“No, I gave you a choice. You are mine and I simply draw satisfaction from seeing you suffer. I am very happy with you.” She gave him a slow, tender kiss.

“Yes, my Lady,” Phillip closed his eyes. His body was tired and he stung all over.

“But Adam, really…” She was wistful.

“I’m sorry, my Lady?”

“Kiss me back. You are my lover and companion. So act like it.”
“I didn’t know I was allowed to, my Lady.”

“This was the whole point. I own you to enjoy.”

Phillip craned his head up, not daring to put his hand on her. Their mouths met.

“Undress me like the lover you are supposed to be.”

It took him a moment to figure out the closures on her dress, undoing the hook capped zipper that peeled down to let the stiffly cut dress fall away from her body. The fabric was the most muted shade of red possible, more brown than scarlet and heavy, but still the loudest thing he’d ever seen her wear. Her slip was white and soft, covering the brassier that kept her breasts in the fashionable level and the fastenings on her lace stockings.

“You wore another colour, today, my Lady” Phillip left the dress laid out beside them, pulling the net and pins out of her long hair.

“I was feeling less confined,” Annette drew him against her breasts. “Blue is for work and quiet, at home. Adam, I will use you some more.”

His arousal was reticent, not from lack of want for her body but from the previous and lingering pain. Annette seemed unperturbed, taking her time to get him ready. She brought his hand to her groin and he felt she was saturated, and showed him how to crook two fingers inside her the way she liked and circle her clitoris around until she was breathing in and out, with the same ferocious lust that rose up when she hurt him. When he mustered a passable erection, she took it, awkwardly finding the right position by first mounting and rocking her hips and then switching to a squat.

This time she did the work, vigorous and rapid. Her hands were back on his throat. “Tell me how it feels?”

“Good, my Lady, good.”

Phillip saw her flushed face, loose hair tangling and falling in the way. She brushed it aside. “Don’t reassure me, tell me when it feels good and when it hurts.”

The hand on his neck was just enough to make him aware that she could cut off his air, but not enough to strangle. She took her time, patient with his timorous libido, coaxing out his lust until he was able to muster an orgasm.
Feeling the sperm wash into her, she let herself stay lodged firmly down on his cock until he finished his spasms. Under her tutoring he had begun to touch her, tentatively stroking what he could reach as they fucked. Still aroused, she levered herself up and off and knee walked the length of his body.

Phillip felt her hover over him, before he felt the release of their mixed coupling land on his neck and chin.

“Prettier on you than on the bed sheets,” Annette said by way of explanation.
She made him take a hot shower with her in the guest bathroom; a smaller room than her lavish bathroom in the Harrington country house, but still large and almost excessively decorated, with green flecked marble surfaces and gold worked into the surface of the pipes and taps. Annette was gentle as she soaped down his body and worked a lather into his hair, but the least little motion of his head was still restricted by her hands.

He could feel the pads of her fingers pressing into her scalp, finger combing and focusing on the sensitive edge of his hairline and behind his ears. Annette stood behind him so the majority of the hot water hit his skin, letting him relax against her body.

“You’re going to sleep beside me, tonight. I can’t have you all sweaty and tacky to touch.”

 

Catamite: Pt. 10

His vision returned after some blinking, helped by the filtered nature of the light from the big stained glass panels along the hall. There was thick carpets and heavy bunches of flowers in blue vases, a citrus heavy scent saturating the air, another fancy home with a wife taking care of the decoration, though not as quietly opulant as the Harrington country house.

The trip had been an hour by car, with the hood on, sitting on the floor of the car with Anette’s hand on the top of his head. She’d had him dressed in new clothes, fashionable but a bit more foppish than he’d have personally chosen, and locked the hood in place, pulling tight straps on the back of his head so it pressed against his face and made it hard to move his eyes of blink.

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Vampire Rape Porn: Huntress Takes

Vampire rape porn now with classic art wheeeeeIf you came here looking for “vampire rape porn” or some permutation, the most common search to my blog leave a comment for what you were actually looking for (raping vampires or being raped by vampires or..?) and I’ll try to toss a link to it.

Maybe this is more what you were looking for?

Lithe masculinity with its elbows on the bar, all casual and sizing up the room with a comfortable potency. They tell you women aren’t very visual but sometimes you see the shape of the back and the jaw line, the squaring in the hands or the right V shaped torso and the full weight of your heterosexuality hits you, right in the eyes and the space behind them and makes you jerk your head back and shove your tits out. You draw in a breath and you know that moment that you’re a mammal, sure as any mouse responding to the bold ear wiggles of a male mouse or a dog howling in heat behind a garden fence.

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