May 2009
5 posts
1 tag
Humiliation 4 - Post Coital Tristesse
His come is a dried glaze across her stomach. In slow circles, she traces her finger down its length and back again. In a far away voice, she confesses: “I don’t like closing my eyes.”
“Why is that?” he asks, sleepily, “You like to watch?”
He has become typical, ordinary. Maybe she has too.
“Because if I close my eyes I think about someone else fucking me.”
The post-ejaculate haze in his...
1 tag
Humiliation 3 - The Cliff
He grasps her knee firmly; punctuating with the slightest squeeze. She freezes and from the corner of her eye she can see him studying her. When their eyes make contact he sends a wink and returns his attention to her boss; who is across the table from her, his own attentions focused on his creme brûlée and his scotch.
The two men continue their conversation then, of markets and trends and...
1 tag
Humiliation 2 - No Touching
Her friend twists the end of the dutch expertly. He inspects the seam and he is satisfied; no gaps, no creases. The joint is a flawless example and he admires it with craftsman-like pride. The secret, he might tell you, is rolling it into a cone. It burns more evenly and is unlikely to go out as it’s passed from mouth to mouth. But the real secret is the filter. It makes the whole operation...
1 tag
Humiliation 1 - Safety Word
She asks, in the softest whisper, “Are you sure we’re going to do this?”
He laughs then and his laugh is not nice. The callous sound of it reduces her to an awkward schoolgirl. She looks down embarrassed, her body language pulling in, wilting.
“Are you afraid?” He asks. He grasps her neck and the grasp is strong and confident but it is not threatening; nearly parental. She flinches then,...
1 tag
Cycling I. Dinner.
It becomes crystal clear to him the very reason why he should not be involved in this very moment unfolding right here, right now.
They are hunched over platefuls of curry and rice in a static white shop somewhere in the east village. The restaurant is narrow and there are no tables. Just one long bar with stools; patrons eating elbow to elbow on one side, the Japanese waitresses and Mexican...