Dark Minded One

I look down at my cock. It glistens from spit and saliva in the morning sunlight pouring in from through my bedroom window. I have to leave for work — you have to leave for work… but you continue your private worship service. Your palm warms my balls, urging them to release and spray the back of your throat. I hold myself steady against your insistant suckling. If I were kinder… possibly more considerate, I would realize that you have to leave for meetings across town and if you left right now, you would still be late. But I can’t let you go… like I can’t let myself go… this feels much to wonderful to ever allow it to stop!

I love to watch you struggle…

I love to watch you struggle against the rope that I have looped around your ankles. They slide against each other, searching for a spot where they aren’t rubbing bone to bone, because with those lovely stockings coarsely sanding at your skin with each adverse motion you make. And then, there’s the added discomfort of the 6-inch stiletto pumps I insisted upon. When you peddle your feet in the open air, flashing polished patent leather glints into my eye, hoping that my knots might loosen — it is an irresistible motion that catches my eye! But this is a hopeless whim of yours as I have secured them to the soles of your feet with rope as well, locking them in their place.

I love watching your knees bob and move, trying to find a comfortable place to rest. This unrest has the added effect of adding a constant flex and relaxation of your ass… that ass — delicious eye-candy that I cannot resist caressing and firmly smacking!

But your wrists tied in parallel, drawn up above your eye-line… watching you pull against the tension that binds them over your head… watching you pull and twist, like some great boxer exercising before the championship bout… my rope insures that those lovely fingers, crowned in red nail varnish shall not be scratching at my back this evening!

If sight were sound upon the air, this scene would surpass any symphony ever created by the great maestros in history! And yet I remain the silent audience of this, your wonderful solo symphony. Your blindfold assures that you can’t observe me observing you. The only notes to bounce off these walls are the exasperated grunts and moans that force their way past the wound and wadded thongs thrust into your mouth, secured with adhesive tape.

As you struggle in my tight confinement… the constriction I’ve created only for you… a solitary question has yet to be answered. How long I will sit here, mute and observant? How long can I sit quiet and still while you blast a cacophony of resistance into this air we share? I resist my urge to play with you — you, my private sex toy… 

© 2013, The Dark Minded One; http://thedarkmindedone.tumblr.com — Image credit unknown

Her mind raced…

Nude, contorted and left standing on one foot, her mind raced. Between thoughts, she bobbed and strained, losing and gaining her balance in an endless cyclic rhythm of frustration and  brief seconds of relief. Ceiling fans forced a cooling breeze through the room and across her exposed sex, accentuating her wetness and heightening her desire. Time meant nothing in the darkness of her blindfold — 5 minutes or 5 hours, there was no telling which was closer to accurate. Enough time had elapsed for her juices to flow from her lips, past her thigh and pool at a rope-loop nearest her knee, then drip onto her caff, beating a metronome syncopation with the blood-swelled throb between her legs.

And still, her mind raced… a phrase that repeated thunderous in her head and silent in the room. The mantra barely changing with each recital was punctuated with a nearly inaudible moan.

“Please Master… Play with me…”

“Please Master… Come play with me…”

“Please Master!…”

Her mind raced…

(c) 2013, The Dark Minded One; http://thedarkmindedone.tumblr.com

The day-workers snuck her into a storage room in the basement. They tied her against a fire-door, well out of reach of her fingers. They forced a gag into her mouth, tested the ropes to be sure she couldn’t escape, then left her there and went to work welding on the 53rd floor.

Durning lunch, they tweaked her nipples, then slapped and pinched her ass with their rough, callused hands… and, of course each of them had a turn fucking her, over and over again. 

Back at work, they talked in whispers about if one of the should take her home, or leave her in the storage closet for tomorrow… 

I am the darkness that lures you from the light. I will frustrate you and stimulate you… beyond what you have dared ever to imagine. I will envelope you, cover you, invade your mind and your soul, in the way that only darkness can. Your nights shall be filled with whimpered praise and lusty desire, some sated when you want them — others not of your choosing… You cannot control the darkness — it controls you!

Before dressing for work, she bent over the end of the bed. She showed me she was proudly plugged with my gift. I pushed it with my thumb, rotating it at the same time. She softly moaned in response.

I leaned in close to her ear, pushing my thumb against the jewel harder. I whispered, “Think of me all day.” In the monitor across the room, I could see her gasp and moan out a resounding, soft-spoken yes.

(Source: this-is-the-best-part)

Dinner was fantastic! I hadn’t eaten that well in a long, long time.

She pushed back from the table softly announcing, “It’s time for dessert!” She gathered the empty dishes and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator door open and close… and then what sounded like a bowl placed hard against the floor… and then, silence. I called out, and got no reply. Curious, I stood up and stepped into the kitchen.

There she was, seated on the floor, naked, legs spread wide open, displaying those wonderful pussy-lips I had been daydreaming about all through dinner. 

She took a can of whipped cream from behind her back, gave it a quick shake, then sprayed it onto her already neatly trimmed pubic hair as if it was my shaving foam. 

She coyly asked, “Cream?…”

(Source: prettgirlsboobs)

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Jones,

I have — yet again — caught your daughter skipping her classes. At this rate, she may not earn enough credits to graduate… again! Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to go to exercise extreme measures to keep her in school and on campus. I’m sure that you understand the urgency here. I do this in Sarah’s best interests and well-fare.

Sincerely,

Principle Black 

He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. She could hear his footfalls moving farther down the hall. She was left alone.

With her wrists secured high above her head, she breathed shallow, doing her best not to overly jostle the clamps.  No matter what she concentrated on, the droning throb at her chest relentlessly beat away. All she could do was gaze down at the attractive chromed steel constricting her precious, sensitive nipples, doing her best to will them away. But that was futile — she was his play-thing now and all choices removed from her. 

…and a small smile began to form on her lips.

(Source: slavegabi)