jackel
As I prattle on, my lady grows increasingly pleased at the progressions. My softer approach seems to be a soothing balm to his blistering frustrations, evidenced by the way the tightened coils of his frame begin to loosen. I’ve touched him, he sighs, and the puppetmaster grows giddy with anticipation having finally found the key to unlock his reaction. Master may prefer the chaotic violence of interaction above all else, but I’ve wanted him to use me some way, somehow and so I cling to my delicate façade for dear life. And by allowing him to use me, I reap the benefits of course; through pain or pleasure it doesn’t matter. I can find the joy in all of it.
His charcoal frame steps closer to me, seemingly having grown somewhat bolder. This simple motion alone tells me that he is at last giving in to my offerings. Watching with large, welcoming eyes as his lips move in closer to my face, I prepare myself for sting of teeth meeting flesh. Though this is not his intent it would seem, as he brushes against the line of my jaw. And it is at this point I am all too aware of what direction this encounter will be going and the thought brings a miniscule smirk to the opposite side of face. But it is there and gone in the blink of an eye because while he works his way along my front I whicker softly as my velvet nose reaches to brush against him.
The lines he draws along my golden body, scattered with teasing nips has the thrill of my heart rate progressively accelerating. He works his way along me, and I lean into his touches, hoping to spur the blossoming chemistry down a path of no return. If he has never been a lover before, I cannot tell. His movements feels like they become painstakingly slow it becomes almost torturous. The way he is drawing it out has me feeling frustrated and uncharacteristically irritated. It’s then that I realize the roles have finally reversed and I am surely the one being tortured out of her wits. But this was my goal all along and it is all I can do in that moment to refrain from giggling wildly and turning to bite him in the rump to urge him on. No I cannot do that. I have a part to play yet, if I want what I desire. And so I remain soft and pliable, choosing to nip gently at his thigh as he moves toward my hindquarters.
It feels like fire is alighting wherever he touches me. Every breath he breathes upon my skin as he explores my femininity sends a new wave of lustful desire to roll over me. I am so caught up in this primal dance I feel as though I’m nearly drowning; unsure of which way is up or down as I attempt to tread the waters between my usual demeanor and my gentler side. I catch myself as I nearly slip again. My mouth begins to open on its own accord, as the master fumbles for the slippery reins. By a saving grace she manages to catch them and my jaws clench together. I am forced but to scream at the walls within the safety of my own prison where he cannot hear me, Fuck me! Fuck me raw and bloody until I scream your name in pain! Haide is wise. She understands that if I had screamed my truest desires at him, we could have possibly scared him away. And none of us would have won.
I doubt that while he is busy roaming me that he notices the shimmer of wildling present in the dark voids of my eyes. But the wild child has been momentarily smothered and I deem it safe to turn my crown back to where he stands, to gaze gently at him.
He nudges my ebony locks away and I tremble at his lingering touch. I shift my tail back to its rightful place momentarily before parting it slowly to the side for him again. It’s an attempt to tease him a bit, hoping my playful gesture may fuel his desires. There is a moment that he pauses and I’m quick to encourage him to dispose of any lingering doubts. My voice is quiet and reassuring, ”It’s okay, I want this. You can take it out on me.” At this point I don’t want this. I need this. And I’m confidently sure that he needs the sweet release of joining bodies also. It seems they’re the words he needs to hear as I feel the warmth of his mouth pressing into the infinitely sensitive recesses of my body. The spreading heat is so welcoming I begin to shudder as he indulges. My lids descend heavily, dreamily even, while I lean myself willingly back into his embrace, beckoning him to explore deeper, harder. There is a brightness in my eyes I open them slightly to find his own. Breathily I sigh his name, "Jesper?..." It comes out as a question, a plea, heavily laced with the longing desire to feel fulfilled.
His charcoal frame steps closer to me, seemingly having grown somewhat bolder. This simple motion alone tells me that he is at last giving in to my offerings. Watching with large, welcoming eyes as his lips move in closer to my face, I prepare myself for sting of teeth meeting flesh. Though this is not his intent it would seem, as he brushes against the line of my jaw. And it is at this point I am all too aware of what direction this encounter will be going and the thought brings a miniscule smirk to the opposite side of face. But it is there and gone in the blink of an eye because while he works his way along my front I whicker softly as my velvet nose reaches to brush against him.
The lines he draws along my golden body, scattered with teasing nips has the thrill of my heart rate progressively accelerating. He works his way along me, and I lean into his touches, hoping to spur the blossoming chemistry down a path of no return. If he has never been a lover before, I cannot tell. His movements feels like they become painstakingly slow it becomes almost torturous. The way he is drawing it out has me feeling frustrated and uncharacteristically irritated. It’s then that I realize the roles have finally reversed and I am surely the one being tortured out of her wits. But this was my goal all along and it is all I can do in that moment to refrain from giggling wildly and turning to bite him in the rump to urge him on. No I cannot do that. I have a part to play yet, if I want what I desire. And so I remain soft and pliable, choosing to nip gently at his thigh as he moves toward my hindquarters.
It feels like fire is alighting wherever he touches me. Every breath he breathes upon my skin as he explores my femininity sends a new wave of lustful desire to roll over me. I am so caught up in this primal dance I feel as though I’m nearly drowning; unsure of which way is up or down as I attempt to tread the waters between my usual demeanor and my gentler side. I catch myself as I nearly slip again. My mouth begins to open on its own accord, as the master fumbles for the slippery reins. By a saving grace she manages to catch them and my jaws clench together. I am forced but to scream at the walls within the safety of my own prison where he cannot hear me, Fuck me! Fuck me raw and bloody until I scream your name in pain! Haide is wise. She understands that if I had screamed my truest desires at him, we could have possibly scared him away. And none of us would have won.
I doubt that while he is busy roaming me that he notices the shimmer of wildling present in the dark voids of my eyes. But the wild child has been momentarily smothered and I deem it safe to turn my crown back to where he stands, to gaze gently at him.
He nudges my ebony locks away and I tremble at his lingering touch. I shift my tail back to its rightful place momentarily before parting it slowly to the side for him again. It’s an attempt to tease him a bit, hoping my playful gesture may fuel his desires. There is a moment that he pauses and I’m quick to encourage him to dispose of any lingering doubts. My voice is quiet and reassuring, ”It’s okay, I want this. You can take it out on me.” At this point I don’t want this. I need this. And I’m confidently sure that he needs the sweet release of joining bodies also. It seems they’re the words he needs to hear as I feel the warmth of his mouth pressing into the infinitely sensitive recesses of my body. The spreading heat is so welcoming I begin to shudder as he indulges. My lids descend heavily, dreamily even, while I lean myself willingly back into his embrace, beckoning him to explore deeper, harder. There is a brightness in my eyes I open them slightly to find his own. Breathily I sigh his name, "Jesper?..." It comes out as a question, a plea, heavily laced with the longing desire to feel fulfilled.
all this joy, I've got some to share
@[Jesper]