by GM Scherbert
Gazing into those deep blue eyes in the photo for only a moment, my eyes close as I reach under the blanket, placing the photo to the side as I go. Slipping my hand under the elastic of my shorts, I find myself painfully hard. I stroke my cock slowly a few times feeling the precum at the tip as my strokes become rougher. Pulling my hips up, I shove my shorts down, freeing my cock from its confines. Closing my eyes, the memories of my Doll and the summer we shared come flooding back to me. I often wonder if the memories that I have of those times, have changed or been exaggerated over the time that we have been apart. I must be misremembering her, the way we were together, how good it was.
Continuing to stroke my cock, the thoughts move to the way that she would spend her mornings, waking up together, her ruffled natural morning look getting me hard as fuck. She was obsessed making sure that every strand of her hair was in place, that her makeup was put on just so. The way she would put on that fire engine red lipstick. When she would put it on again right after she had given me a kiss, or better yet, sucked my cock leaving a red ring at the base. That thought usually had me cumming, but not today, today my thoughts go on.
I have to be misremembering the smell of her perfume, that expensive shit, what was it again Dolce. The way she would splash that stuff on multiple times throughout the day and night. How my pillow would smell after she left and how I would bury my face in it after that summer until the smell was no more. Fuck, just the memory of her rubbing her wrists together, it gets me harder than steel, but still I don’t come.
My mind moves to her body, her long luscious legs, her full breasts, even her little pink pearl, the dimples in her ass, and the ink that covered most of it. The way the lines and colors, patterns and pictures told her story. A story that she told me over countless hours piece by piece putting together the puzzle of her life in ink. My strokes became frenzied as I continued to think about how I would kiss and caress each as she would spin the tales. How she would moan when I would graze my teeth over her skin or sigh as I would breathe into her ear, forcing the hairs on her neck to stand up.
The thoughts of kissing the skin on her neck, over her shoulder, across her back have me so close. The thought that finally pushes me over the edge, that has me cumming is the memory of sinking into her tight cunt from behind. Memories of grabbing up her round ass cheeks, turning them red with my hand, before sinking inside of her. Pulling that long colorful hair, wrapping a hand in it as I pounded into her. Those are the thoughts that do me in, that have me doing something that I thought I had long since given up on. Hoping.
This day has been shit. Death and destruction surrounded my brothers and I today. I needed something to get me through all that had happened. And the hope that I have found is in the thoughts of my Doll, which is something I haven’t let myself do. Hope that she would be waiting for me, pinning for me, and that’s when I know that I must return. After my service is done I will head back to Zion, I’ve got to see her again force her hand to give me another shot after these long years, before I decide where I’ll settle into civilian life.
~Lilly
Diving into school, work, and life back in California did little to keep my mind off the summer that I shared with her. The memories that we made with each other frequently find their way to the surface, but we said it was only for the summer, that we would each go back to the lives that we were leading and so I did, or tried to at least.
The next woman that I had a serious relationship with was a crass, sarcastic, tomboy, that I had the distinct pleasure of putting in her place. A pleasure that I took every chance to give myself, which happened frequently over the next few years. She was so different from my Raz, who spent so much time on her looks, her hair needing to be in place, the way her makeup had to look, the exact opposite of Mindy to say the least. Mindy didn’t fit in well at Berkley, where I went to school. We, however fit together quite nicely and after that first meeting, a few months after the summer Raz and I had shared, I was sure Mindy could take away the memories that had been haunting me.
Mindy was a smoker, a superhero nerd, and loved working with her hands, which was a benefit that I enjoyed almost nightly while we were together. The first night I saw her, she was dressed in a wife beater, flannel shirt, with a pair of Levi’s, combat boots and a bandana that matched the checkered pattern of her flannel trying to tame the dark black and blue streaked hair underneath. More suited to the 90’s grunge scene in Seattle then the campus here in Berkley. The way she was smoking had me longing to put her mouth to better use, and I soon did.
Before we went our separate ways early the next morning, she had submitted to me in the same ways Raz had, and done so quite beautifully. On her knees with her face buried between my thighs doing things with her mouth that I haven’t been able to push aside each time I saw her taking a drag from her cigarette from that day forward. Then the things she did to me that night with those hands, hands I soon learned worked on heavy machinery during the day, hands that were bound to get dirty but no longer from their work during only the day, but at night getting dirty while pleasing me.
After that first night we spent much of the next four years together, that was until I got a call from home, and decided that it was time to return. Mom told me about the troubles she was having with my younger sisters, Dad being long gone, I knew in that moment, I needed to go help. Thankfully I had finished my degree and was working a government job in Cali, one that I had been doing well enough at that I was sure my boss could get me transferred from.
I had known that Zion would be no place for Mindy, it was barely a place that I wanted to be, but thought I would try to get her to come home with me. She nicely told me that she would think about it, but I knew she would refuse, the bond we had built crumbled quickly in the one month it took to straighten up my affairs in California and head back home. It started with small things, like me not calling, or her not answering if I did. Small steps towards building a wall up to help the pain when we would finally say those words out loud.
Chapter 2
~Raz
A year after Alba was born, Nick and Alexandra dragged me out for a night away. Alexandra came over with her daughter Annabelle to help me get ready for the night out. My first since my little doodlebug came into my life, and boy did it open my eyes to the world that they enjoyed. I should have been keyed in by the clothing that Alexandra was wearing, or the stuff she picked outta my closet for me to wear, but I wasn’t.
When we drove up to what I was thinking was the bar, I wondered about the building that they were taking me into. The building looked more like a regular business building than the tavern front I was under the impression we were going to.
When we meet the bouncer at the back door, he was a much older man, dressed in a pair of leather pants and vest, with a young woman sitting on the floor at his feet.
“Nick,” was spoken in a deep rumble as my eyes looked around the small area. It took only seconds for me to realize what kind of club this was, I mean I do watch porn. As two very attractive men walked towards us, on their way to what I was guessing was out of the club. A scantily clad woman sandwiched between them with little more on her luscious body than a very intricate collar. Not being able to keep my eyes from them, I stare while they speak to the bouncer and then Nick.
“Shadow, please tell me that whatever you have planned for your little Peach tonight is something that won’t have Pearl in an uproar.” The older of the two men says.
“Blaze, you don’t need to worry what I have planned for my little girl, as long as she doesn’t have a problem with what I am doing, I don’t know why your little pet would. She seems to be stepping in on other people’s business as usual, when will you teach her to mind her manners?”
“Yes, well she seems to be somewhat testy since she found out that your little girl is gonna be adding to your family. She is just looking out for her friend, or so she tells us.”
Looking to their woman, I see many things in her, misch
ievousness’ being the main one. She looks to be about forty and has a very full body, a body that I would sure love to have a chance to get to know better. Her men must see the desire in my eyes, and they make no bones about addressing Nick with them.
The younger of the two men now speaks, “Nick, who is this lovely little thing? We thought that when you and Alexandra started to come in here those years ago, that the relationship was between only the two of you, were we wrong? Have you brought another into your cozy little family?”
“No, no you were not mistaken. This is a friend of ours, Raz. She works at the shop with me and is more interested in this lifestyle than she knows.”
“Nick, whatever are you talking about?” Taking a deep breath, I look around me again before I try to explain what my thoughts are. “I know what kind of club this is and I have no problem with it, really I don’t, to each their own I always say. I will be enjoying what its got to offer for the evening but, I am not the girl that needs this sort of thing to get off. I am happy with my life the way it is, I don’t know what you saw in me that made you think anything different.”
Alexandra steps forward to answer, but is hushed by the other woman, who’s silently asked the two men next to her for something. Their heads nod each in turn before, she moves her focus to me, and I feel the weight of her stare on me. “Honey, I am not sure who it is that you are trying to convince, Alexandra, Nick here or yourself but, don’t keep speaking such lies, it really is not becoming of you.”
Stepping in front of me she brings a hand up to my face, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear, she speaks low. “Honey, this is exactly the type of place you need. I can see the desire in your eyes and the questions there as well. If Nick and Alexandra would like to play tonight, and my husband’s don’t object I would love to take you under my wing and show you the different pleasures that you could find here.”
Looking towards Nick, this woman is quick to get a head nod from him, before glancing towards the two men she referred to as her husband’s. The smile that spreads over one of their faces then the other sends a chill up my spine, before they both nod to their woman in turn. Turning back to me this woman steps even closer to me extending a hand in my direction, “I’m Pearl, but here in this place I think you should call me, Ma’am.”
With that, my ventures into the BDSM lifestyle began. I didn’t spend loads of time at the Dungeon, maybe a few nights a year, but each time I learned more about the things that I liked and the life I wanted to live. I saw many things over the years while at The Dungeon. Never feeling comfortable enough to have sex with anyone. The thoughts I had that what I wanted, what I had shared with Dominic and Lilly that summer, could happen. That I could get any and everything out of my life, even with my daughter, and that nothing was wrong with wanting them.
I grew to love the different couples that I saw at the club, the men and women that shared their love so freely and saw no shame in it. While there, I never found anyone to share my heart with, but my body on occasion, was a different thing entirely. I knelt down to a few men and women during my times at The Dungeon, but none were able to draw my thoughts or my heart away from the two that had made such an impact that summer.
~Dominic
While serving overseas the urges and desires that I had were sated with porno mags and my hand much of the time. Not saying that I didn’t take women to bed, but they were few and far between, especially while serving overseas. The mags that I found myself looking at the most when the need arose, were ones filled with BDSM or multiple women. It seems the things that we shared together that summer, were only the tip of the iceberg of my appetites.
The few times that I got to go back to the states, I was able to indulge in porn on the internet, a real treat from the mags I was forced to use to overseas. Finding my preferences was easy: Men with multiple women, men dominating a woman’s body and mind, and even some with women dominating other women. Seeing a woman struggle against restraints, or being bound with no way to escape really got my fucking cock hard. Knife and fire play also made their way into my porno playlist and each in turn did what I needed them too.
On a few trips back to the states, I was so caught up in my desires that on occasion I would pay a visit to a BDSM club near the base. The club, The Layer, was near the base in North Carolina and met all the demands that my body wanted. The Layer was just like a normal club, but on the upper floors the music changed, the décor changed, the clientele changed, and the clothing definitely fucking changed.
The rooms were filled with people, celebrating all different types of KINK. Heterosexuals, homosexuals, and everything in between. Pony play, daddy fantasies, foot fantasies, and even scat play, the only area that I knew for sure I had no desire exploring. The large open room that contained two bars had a few areas for public play, then there were multiple private areas as you meandered through the upper floors.
Knowing that these times spent at The Layer gave me an experience I couldn’t have overseas. I used them as fantasy material, exploring most everything I could. The foot fetishes that I watched were one of the things I didn’t really enjoy, but even watching them gave me a sense of how much the participants enjoyed it.
One of the first nights I watched a woman give her partner a foot job. Her feet held his hard cock tight, as she stroked them up and down. I then watched as he ejaculated all over her feet after a few minutes of her attentions. Another man that had been watching the whole exchanged stepped in, and licked each toe clean while stroking his own cock, with the eyes of the other two never leaving him.
Another night, I watched a knife display that had me wanting to try it out. The way the man held the blade up to the woman’s throat. Ran the edge along the smooth flesh of his partner, over and over again. How the woman’s breathing hitched when the man would dip the knife into her flesh a little too much, causing drops of blood to spill from her. I wondered what it felt like to be that man, to see the desire in my partners eyes during something like that. What it would be like to taste the blood that fell from the wound that I had made. Those memories stayed with me for many long nights on my next tour, and much longer as well.
After about two years of visits to The Layer, I tried my hand at a scene, under the guidance of a Dom that I had formed a friendship with, Master Black. I never thought that I could enjoy something as much as I did that, the way the woman bent to my will and was willing to do whatever to please her Master. It was something that I could find myself wanting in life, when I was ready to settle down, that is. Even then, my thoughts still traveled back to that summer, to the woman I shared many evenings with. And my mind wondered what it will feel like to command her body like that, like I had been doing at The Layer.
When my service finally ended five long years after that summer, I made a trip back to Zion. I told myself it was to see mom and pops, but I knew that I had to see her. See for myself what is happening with her, that she had made something of her life, maybe met someone and settled down.
That she was better off without me. Without the man, this harden dominant motherfucker that I had become.
~Lilly
After the first five months back in California, I had run outta my student loans and needed to get a job. I picked up a job working tables at a local strip club, which I hated, but I made some nice fucking bank. The place reminded me of a seedy club in one of those fucking Colombo shows or some shit. The men were all older, and the strippers were generally not over twenty, it was just fucking gross to see some of the looks. I stuck to my tables, and stayed as far away from the strippers and the dodgy old men as possible.
One night about four months after I had started working there I met a woman, Raven, and over the next few months, she showed me a side of myself that I had only ever imagined. She was so submissive, so feminine, so petite, the total opposite of me. I had always thought of myself as a woman, don’t get me wrong, but I just wasn’t so much of the girly girl that she, or many of my previous p
artners were.
I definitely was not the submissive little thing that Raven was, I was the opposite. I mean I had always been able to command my partner in the sack but this, this was something more. More than just the little demands, and commands that my partners would follow. My more Domme side, the side that strived for having her under my total control, bending to each and every one of my desires. Over the next few months, she showed me a lot about the person that I wanted to be, the person I was meant to be.
One night, Raven and I even found a BDSM club to explore, but that was short lived. The things that we witnessed there neither of us were much interested in, and we should have known that from the get go. The public displays were not the issue, I had loved the times that Raz and I had shared each other’s bodies in public. With strangers, customers, or even my nasty old boss watching us, we each got off on the trill.
The punishments, the extremes within the BDSM club were just too much for either of us to handle. As we walked through the halls, after the long speech from the person they had help us with our paperwork and explain the rules of the club we saw lots of shit we didn’t even think possible. They had a scat room in the fucking building that you needed to fill out a bunch of extra paperwork to get into, on top of the piles you needed to fill out to just get through the front door. Raven and I both knew after that first visit, that this scene was something we didn’t want.
We keep to ourselves after that night, not visiting the club again, but in the months that followed, we never found our groove. Raven didn’t get my blood racing, didn’t evoke the emotions in me like my Raz had. So, Raven and I went our separate ways after four months of halfhearted attempts at a relationship. My heart seemed to be reserved for the one I shared that summer with.