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Here is a short story I wrote in 2004, first written in French, then translated with some help (see below).

I slid the nozzle between my bum cheeks and into my anus and I filled myself full with fluids, as full as a water skin. This I did for you Mistress. The hot liquid penetrated my body, it excited me like it always does, and I felt my pussy getting wet. I stayed calm and concentrated on my present activity: my lower body ingested the water and held it until the suffering transformed into pleasure. I allowed my bottom’s receptacle to form, getting it ready to submit to you Mistress; in order to please you. Eventually, I had to run and empty my bowels. When I was done, I came back and filled myself up again, repeating the cleansing process so that I would be as clean as a new penny, clean like you want me to be when I receive you.

For you Mistress, I filled my ass and slid my body against the blue butt plug, the one that we chose together. The one that you made me decide on, made me anticipate until I begged for you to fill me with it. I brought my bum towards the plug and inserted the object inside me. It felt like a foreign object, but a welcomed and recognized one nonetheless. It was like as if my ass was made to receive it, to receive you. By the end, it was entirely in me and I could feel it penetrate upward, all the way to my stomach. I kept it in my body for a long time in order to mould my asshole to your liking Mistress, so that it responds to your needs.

I now find myself groveling before you Mistress. I must seem like an inflatable toy that has been plugged. My natural reflex is to expel the object invading it, but the belt you had me put on is holding it firmly in place, conserving the sensation of intrusion in me, breaking me in. I know you are examining my body. You wanted me like this – at your feet – in the most humble position possible. You like to see me positioned like this before you; I like to see myself here too. To me, it is the best feeling in the world. This thought – as much as the plug resting inside me – has the power to excite me, and I know you can see my fluids trickling down my thighs, mixing with the lubricant

I am your object, your thing, your toy. I beg of you to tell me that what I am offering you, pleases you, that you like that moment when I’m before you, when all the possibilities are still opened-up. You must have known right away how much I crave that uncertain moment between your assaults, the moment where I can reflect on what’s coming next, when you let me fill myself with that shameful but exquisite wait. Just until my body trembles.

You slide a muzzle into my mouth and you pull the strap tight around my head. Then, you tell me to lift my knees and to spread my legs. I do this and following your instructions, I open my legs as wide as possible. I do this for you Mistress, so that I can be your consenting whore, giving you access to my entire body. I am naked, but your gaze undresses me further so that you can see past my flesh and into my soul; so that you can see me better than I can see myself. Gently, with almost loving gestures, you wrap a rope around my ankles and thighs, so that the extremities of my legs become immobilized against one another. I am restrained tight enough so that I cannot stretch my legs, but loose enough so that the rope doesn’t hurt me. In the same gentle manner, you tie my wrists to the sides of my body and I am left spread out on the carpet with open legs and immobilized wrists. You lean over me and pinch my lips. I moan, but the muzzle stifles the sound of my voice. My pussy is so moist that the liquid runs between your fingers each time you try to grasp me. You take a napkin and wipe my vulva so that it be dry. Then, you pin my lips with wooden clothes pins. You use a total of eight pins, an even number – today you are sparing my clitoris. The pins bite into my flesh, provoking a small sharp pain that is gradually receding until it becomes a small discomfort.

Next, you approach my chest and bring out another rope, tying up my small tits. This time you tie the ropes tighter, so that my breasts become nothing but two small spheres perched at the top of my body. With an expert hand, you take hold of my nipples and pinch them cruelly. I whimper again. You pull on them as if you have no other care in the world, as if I was made of paste that could be molded by your hands. Then, you clench my nipples between two clothes pins. You straighten yourself again and stand up to contemplate your work. Here I am, stretched in front of you, pinned to the ground, like a rare insect, like an artist’s work in progress. You use your foot to play with one of the pins pinching my lips. I moan with anticipation. I can feel my pussy moisten, but the clips stay firmly in place. Your foot moves towards my anus and pushes lightly on the plug. This time, I gasp. You remain silent, but you look at me in a questioning manner: “Do you want me to screw you in the ass, little bitch?” Without uttering a word, I shake my head in response to your question. Your foot continues to push the object in my ass. Your eyes always remain fixed on me, examining my every reaction, assisting in debasing me. Eventually, your foot moves back to my pussy. The top of your foot slides between my lips, between the pins. It rubs against my clitoris, which is already suffering with desire waiting for you to pay attention to it. I take a deep breath and feel my eyes filling with water, on the verge of tears.

And, Mistress, you continue to look me in the eyes. “You want me to let you cum, you little whore, don’t you?” You don’t say it, but I can hear you, and I moan signaling consent, my chest rising, opening my thighs even wider within the confines of the bindings. You take off the pins retaining my breasts and the blood flows back to my nipples. Quickly, you take off your pants and you straddle me, sitting with your pussy rubbing against my left breast and then my right one. Both of them redden like hot iron, inflaming together, tender and sensitive underneath your soft, moist flesh. You use my hardened nipples to caress your pussy, to stimulate your clitoris. You thread my right breast through to the bottom of your lips, onto your clitoris. Your pelvis starts to move in a circular motion. How I would like to touch you, caress your pussy until you squeeze out little cries of pleasure, to lick you, to slide my fingers inside you. You move graciously along my chest and despite your calm and collectedness, I can feel the pleasure rising up into your body. I can feel the spasms and I can see your face reddening. Your fluids drip onto my breasts and sooth them; your flesh briskly caresses my nipples and you rub yourself on me so hard that your fluids flow down my stomach and settle into the nape of my neck. You never cease to look at me with a challenging gaze, as if to say: “You see, I orgasm whenever I want to”. Suddenly, your body trembles and stiffens, and you fall back lightly without losing composure. You sit back down on my body, after pleasuring yourself on me.

Finally, you get up. I stay there, quivering on the ground, unable of keeping a hold on the desire growing in me. The smile on your face is indecipherable. You focus yourself between my open legs and this time you kneel, supporting yourself with your hand on one of my knees. You’re so close to my pussy that you could almost touch it – but not yet. Not until you contemplate my level of arousal. With the index finger of your right hand, you finally touch my clit. It rubs up against your finger, replete with desire. You lightly touch me, almost absentmindedly. Your caress makes me crazy and I want to cum. If I don’t, I know I will die. The revolutions on my clit intensify and I can feel you adding more pressure. You press harder on me, caressing me more vigorously, and finally, I can feel the excitement rising and growing, although I sense that it is still not yet time to finish . You detach the strap that is retaining the plug, but you don’t take it out of my body yet. Still caressing my clit with your right hand, you let the plug slide out of my anus a bit and then you drive it in again. My membranes ache even though my bowel opens up upon the thrusts. My body doesn’t want this to stop, it is receiving this with all its heart and soul. Without forgetting to take care of my clit, you drive the plug several times into me, its textured surface scrapping my anus, its round tip penetrating deeply into my bowel. I groan, I cry, I tremble, and I quiver. Silently, I ask for more. You sodomize me with the plug, you tease my clit with your finger, you dominate me with your presence, all of the sensations melting together and giving birth to a warmth in my stomach, to a warm feeling of fullness that climbs and climbs and at the end, I don’t know which part of me feels the most pleasure: my clitoris that is distending and retracting in order to squirt out its fluids, or; my anus, where I can feel the heat diffusing suddenly throughout my entire pelvis, or; my soul dominated by you and pleasured because you exist.

You pull the pins off very quickly and my lips burn from their newfound liberty. I rest like this for what feels like an eternity, agitated by spasms. My entire pussy is moist; my muscles are strained from my desire to retain this feeling, shaking from the shivers and tears induced by the intensity of the instant. And I stay there, on my back, bound, spread, with you still holding the plug slightly out of my body, your hand always resting on my vulva. You finish by removing the plug and my anus closes from an absence that now seems strange to me. With the appropriate gestures, you release my wrists, then my thighs, my ankles, and finally my breasts. Then you help me sit up and I straighten myself again. I feel a little weak and unsteady. You sit behind me and wrap your arms around my body. You take off the gag. You hold me there for a long time, whispering soothing words over and over again – and in these words I sometimes hear the name that only you give me.

Thanks to Monica Frommer who helped me with the English version.
Reproduction of this text is forbidden unless authorised by the author.
z.beline ©2004-2010

Also check the French version of that short story: Soumise.

Publicités

Voici une nouvelle écrite il y a fort longtemps, mais qui a une résonnance particulière dans ma relation D/s actuelle.

Dites-moi pourquoi je me languis tant d’être utilisée par vous, d’être traitée comme votre petite pute. Pourquoi m’importe-t-il tant d’être votre jouet, Maîtresse, votre chose que vous remplissez et videz à votre guise, que vous ouvrez pour la pénétrer, que vous refermez sans ménagement, que vous fouettez, enculez, humiliez ? Toujours sur un ordre de vous, je ramperai à vos pieds comme une chienne pour quémander vos caresses et vos coups, je lécherai vos pieds et le sol sur lequel ils se posent, je les mettrai entièrement dans ma bouche et je les sucerai avec délectation, chacun de vos orteils comme un fruit rare. Ma bouche est destinée à l’usage de vos pieds, je vous en prie, foulez ma langue, foulez mes lèvres. Et tout ce temps, je serai au sol, au plus bas devant vous, je serai votre petit animal favori que vous acceptez à vos côtés, je n’aurai pour vous que vénération et amour, tout mon corps sera voué à votre plaisir. J’embrasserai, je lécherai votre cul, Maîtresse, s’il vous plaît que je le fasse, j’écarterai vos fesses délicatement et je poserai ma bouche sur votre anus et je vous servirai autant qu’il vous plaira de me voir le faire, et cela m’excitera tant, je mouillerai comme une salope devant vous, pour vous.

Toujours, pour vous, je serai la putain que vous voulez, quand vous le voulez, aussi longtemps que vous le voudrez. Je me présenterai devant vous comme une catin, habillée en catin, déshabillée en catin, utilisable comme une catin. Si vous le voulez, Maîtresse, je serai nue et humide comme une femelle en rut et je vous présenterai mon cul frémissant. Ou j’aurai revêtu une tenue de petite pute, de celles qui me conviennent si bien, j’aurai enfilé des bas qui m’arrêteront à mi-cuisse, que les jarretelles de mon corset retiendront, et cette tenue de traînée vous donnera plein accès à tout ce qui est utile en moi, ma bouche, ma langue, mes seins, et surtout mon sexe et mes fesses qui ressortiront de manière indécente entre le corset et le haut des bas, comme une cible. À vous sentir si près de ma chair nue, ma chair vulnérable, disponible, j’en perdrai tous mes sens, je m’alanguirai à vos pieds, je m’offrirai toute entière.

Coulez en moi, Maîtresse, je n’attends que cela. Je m’agenouillerai devant vous et j’ouvrirai grand la bouche et attendrai de vous recueillir, je frémirai d’anticipation lorsque vos jambes se placeront de chaque côté de moi et que s’approchera votre sexe, je serai si humide lorsque le jet atteindra le fond de ma gorge. Répandez-vous sur mon visage, sur mon corps, sur mon sexe, dans mes cheveux, je suis destinée à cela. Et lorsque vous vous serez soulagée sur moi, en moi, je vous lécherai avidement, j’épongerai votre sexe de ma langue afin d’y recueillir la moindre goutte. Utilisez sur moi tout ce qu’il vous plaira, je vous en prie, mes trous sont ouverts et lubrifiés pour vous. Écartelez-moi, bâillonnez-moi afin que je sente bien que je ne suis qu’une bouche, qu’un con, qu’un anus destiné à votre plaisir, que mes seins vous appartiennent. Baisez ma langue, mon sexe, mon cul, amusez-vous avec votre jouet qui ouvre les jambes pour vous, qui mouille pour vous, qui étire sa langue pour vous, qui vous tend son postérieur. Meurtrissez mon vagin de vos assauts, utilisez le trou de mon cul sans ménagement, rien ne me rend plus heureuse que lorsque vous vous servez de moi sans pitié. Pincez mes seins entre vos doigts, rougissez-les à votre guise, et je n’en serai que plus excitée. Voyez comme vous me faites mouiller, Maîtresse, voyez quelle pute je suis pour vous supplier de vous servir d’elle encore et encore.

Attachez-moi, fessez-moi, rougissez ma peau, enculez-moi, fouettez-moi, pincez ma chair tendre, pénétrez moi, ligotez-moi, ouvrez tout grand mon sexe, sodomisez-moi, baisez-moi, faites-vous plaisir sur moi, flagellez-moi, humiliez-moi encore et encore, gardez-moi rampante sur le sol à vos pieds, mais je vous en conjure, utilisez-moi, ô ma Maîtresse à qui j’appartiens de tout mon corps, de tout mon coeur, de toute mon âme.

Une version de ce texte a paru sur le site de l’Éprouvette
(note: malheureusement, ce site a maintenant fermé boutique).
Toute reproduction interdite sans le consentement de l’auteure.
z.beline ©2006-2010

I love Halloween, especially because I love to wear costumes–all kind of costumes, fetish or not. One of my favourite costumed party is the Meow Mix Halloween special that I attend every year in Montreal. Hot dykes in hot attire. I love to watch cowboys dance with aliens, giraffes make out with nuns. The following short story was written with that kind of evenings in mind.

She took a fistful of my hair and she pulled my head backward, toward her, until my back was arched and my face was touching hers. Still standing behind me on the dance floor, she brushed her lips on the tender skin of my cheeks, up to my right ear, and whispered: “I think you are in trouble, girl.”

I could not see her clearly, and I did not dare turn my head, but I knew exactly who had grabbed me so firmly and would not let me go. I had spotted her right away, the minute I entered this all-dyke Halloween party. How could I have missed her? There were still a few tables left, but she was just standing there, tall and fierce, in full Halloween butch attire. Only, it did not look like a costume on her. Tonight, she was the knight, dressed in leather and metal, and from her looks, one could tell she was prepared to face the dragon. Or the slutty damsel.

Feeling whorish in my saloon girl costume, I was there, dancing, showing off, revealing half of my tits, the tender skin between the upper band of my fishnet stockings and the seam of my underskirt, which I had rolled up and clipped up each thigh until it barely hid my crotch. The corset that was cinching my waist was putting all the attention on my pulled out buttocks and my pushed up breasts. My outfit made me look like an old fashion whore and made me move and dance like a genuine slut.

She had spotted me too; I knew it from the look on her face. She just stared at me calmly, confidently, as if she knew from the start that she would get me in her bed tonight. Her features remained undecipherable, but I could see her eyes following me as I moved about the room, going to the bar and coming back with a drink, getting up and jumping on the dance floor. All along the way, I knew there were greedy, butchy eyes studying me.

My friends did not feel like dancing, so I joined the wiggling lesbian crowd all by myself. Alone with a hundred of sexy dykes moving to the same beat, I could feel the sexual surge all around me, the collective desires of dozens of horny women, and the deep thrust of techno music into my willing body. Strong rhythms arouse me, and I feel as if I could make out right there on the spot if I met my match on the dance floor.

I knew she was watching. I could sense her. I was not looking at her; my back was turned to her, but still, I was dancing for her, and for her I was moving my ass and rolling my hips and shaking my breast, revealing more of my skin with every step.

“You are a very slutty girl,” she said, still holding my hair. She pressed her body to my butt, rubbing herself against my whore’s outfit. I resumed dancing, but I could not move much with her holding me so tightly. Finally, she added: “Perhaps you thought you could get away with teasing me the way you did, but girl, I’ve got news for you.” She let go my hair, grabbed the back of my neck with her strong, gloved hand, sending shivers down my whole body. Again, she pressed her mouth to my ear and said: “Do you want to follow me to see what I do with slutty girls who tease me?” The tone of her voice, the inflexibility of her grip made me weak in the knees. Without a word I let her guide me across the dance floor.’

I was led outside of the big hall, to a smaller room that was not used for the party. The tables and chairs had been piled up randomly in a corner, and the whole place was covered in dust. She turned me around and pushed me against the closest wall, and she stayed there, one meter away from me, staring at me. She was not holding me, I could have run away if I had wanted to, but I didn’t move, of course, and remained with my back to the cold surface, staring back. I knew I had a defiant look in my eyes. Looking at her watching me, I felt sluttier than ever.

“Lift up your skirt, slut, so I can have a full view of what you’ve been trying to show me all night long.” I raised my silken underskirt. “Higher,” she said, “so I can see your goodies.” I pulled on the skirt, aware that, since I had not bothered to put on some panties that night, she could see my bare sex, my pussy that had been more and more moist from the moment she got close to me on the dance floor. Now, following her orders, I had the impression that it was dripping wet. She gave an appreciative nod. “Spread your legs, and show me that cunt of yours. Wider, I know you can do it, can’t you, whore? I bet you do this all the time.” I caught myself moaning as she said that, and my head went light. Holding my skirt, I opened my legs and I stared at her with a seductive half-smile. “Put one hand between your legs and open your slut’s lips for me.” I knew I should not do that; I should not expose my sex in front of that stranger, in that public place where anybody could have shown up at any moment. However, I obeyed. I spread my legs even wider and, bending my knees a little bit, I put my fingers between my thighs. Oh, my pussy was indeed very wet, and this was all making me quite horny. Suddenly, I wanted her to fuck me right then and right there, to take me like a female in heat, to screw me like a bitch. She took two steps closer to me, her body almost touching mine. “Take out your tits, they’re almost showing anyway.” Complacently, I lowered the short sleeves of my blouse, and I showed my breast. “Raise your arms over your head.” Again, I obeyed. “That’s a good girl. Now, don’t make a single move,” she ordered. She leaned over toward me, with her hands on each side of my body, with her face just one millimeter from mine. She moved her lips over my cheeks, my chin, my mouth, without touching me. “You know what we’re gonna do, hon?” she said, still teasing me with her mouth. “We’re gonna teach the little whore a lesson she won’t forget. What do you think?” I sighed as my head started spinning again.

Her mouth moved from my face to my neck, where I could feel her hot breath, then to my tits. I wanted to move, to reach for her mouth, but I knew better. “And why exactly am I going to teach you a lesson, tell me?” She was moving her mouth from my nipple to the other, still not touching me. I was desperate to feel her touch. Suddenly, with her two hands, she reached up, took my nipples and pinched them cruelly. “I asked you a question, whore. Why do you need a lesson exactly?” I gasped and I moaned, and as my reply did not come quickly enough, she pressed my nipples harshly between her thumb and her forefinger while pushing her knee between my thighs. My legs were suddenly feeble. When I replied, it was a heartfelt answer, but also a question.

“Because I’m a dirty little whore?” I said tentatively.

She gave a cold smile.”Oh yes, she said, you are a dirty little whore. But I’m gonna teach you a lesson because I feel like it, that’s all. I enjoy teaching lessons to dirty girls like you. And I have the feeling that this is what you’ve been seeking all night long, isn’t it? All night you’ve been asking to get your little ass red, and I’m gonna give you what you want.”

The image of her spanking me left me voiceless again. I remained there, with my skirt in the air, exposing my cunt, horny, aroused and moaning. She made a serious smile again, looking at me straight in the eyes.

“Go to that table,” she said, gesturing toward the corner of the room where the furniture was piled up. “Bend over putting you palms down on the table. Open your legs.” I obeyed. I walked to the table and, bending, I placed my hands on either side of my head. And I waited there like a very obedient little girl. She was taking her time. I could not see her, but I knew she was standing there, observing me. Suddenly, she lifted my skirt and drew it over my butt for my ass to be exposed. I felt the chilly air of the room touch my warm skin. She put one hand on the back of my neck; securing me down on the table as she gently started stroking my ass cheeks with her other hand. Again, I moaned. “You like to offer your ass to strangers, don’t you? I bet you’re the kind of whore who’d do it for free.”

The first spank came as a surprise in spite of my building expectations. My body jerked, but she was holding me tight. She spanked me again and again, making my body bounce, making me moan. She was still wearing her gloves, and the harsh touch of the leather was both an agony and a delight. Pausing, she caressed my offered butt, and again she hit it hard with her full hand. She kept on spanking me at a regular pace, alternating between quick dry strokes and more gentle caresses. I was panting, and I knew my pussy was dripping. Waves of pleasures and pain were running through my whole body. Soon, my cheeks were burning, but she was holding me down with a firm hand, and I could not slip away, even if I had wanted to. She stopped and went behind me. She pressed her body against me and, through the leather of her costume, I could feel her cock rubbing against my buttocks. I groaned a low and needy groan. “You want it, slut, don’t you? You want it up your ass. Tell me you want it!” And I said yes, I wanted it, I needed it more than anything, I wanted her to fuck my ass. She slipped her gloved forefinger between my legs. The feel of the leather on my tender lips, so close to my pussy, made me quiver. I wanted more and I tried to push my body toward her hand. She slapped my ass harder than ever. She took my hair, raising my head a little bit from the table, and looked at me in the eyes. “What do you think you’re doing, slut? You think you can go and fuck yourself on my hand at will? Not until I’m done with you. And then, I just might let you get some pleasure. If you’ve been a good girl, and if I feel like it.” I gave a silent whine. She let my head go. “Now, stay still. Your ass isn’t red enough for my taste.”

I heard the sound of leather against leather. She lifted my head again and I saw what she was holding. She had taken off her large leather belt and had folded it in two. “You know what I’m gonna do with this, don’t you?” I nodded. I knew she could read the combination of fright and excitement in my eyes. “You want it, don’t you? Tell me!” Again, I agreed: “Oh, please, yes, whip my needy ass with your belt, I deserve it!” She looked puzzled. “You deserve it?” she said. “Why is that?” I sighed and I broke out:

“Because I’m a slut and I like it rough and hard, and because I need to feel my ass burning from your touch. Please, whip me until my skin is burning red!”

She went behind me, ordering me to lay still. With her feet, she opened my legs wider so my pussy felt like it was freely exposed between my thighs. And she hit me with the belt. She started with my cheeks. I wasn’t beaten hard, but each stroke on already red skin hurt me more. She was hitting not only my butt, but my thighs and the tender skin between my legs, and soon she was also whipping my pussy lips. I was whining, trying to remain silent after she ordered me to. I was also tremendously aroused, and I knew my pussy was soaked, as I could feel the juice running down my legs. And she kept on using the belt until I almost came. When she felt I was on the verge of an orgasm, she stopped. I moaned a helpless moan.

She ran her leathered hand on my buttock, nourishing the feeling of the spanking and the whipping, spreading the heat. “This is a good girl,” she said. “You took it so well. But now that you got what you wanted, you have to thank me. Get up.” I got up and she forced her way between my body and the table. “On your knees, girl, I want to see how good you are at thanking your benefactor.” I got down on my knees, my head at the level of her crotch. “Undo the buttons and see what I have for you.” I opened her pants and found a huge silicone cock. I looked up at her, as if I did not know what to do next.

“What are you waiting for, whore? You wanna pretend you don’t know what to do with this anymore? Put your hands behind your back and open your mouth. I’m gonna show you.” I obeyed clasping my hands behind my back and opening my mouth. Holding the cock with one hand, she took my head with the other and pushed me toward the cock, until it touched the back of my throat. I choked. She smiled. “Yeah, I like it when you choke, it shows me you wanna do a good job for me. Now suck!” She started plunging the cock in and out of my mouth. I had no choice but to suck, to take it deep into my throat, although it made me gasp and `gag. The strong thrusts into

my mouth made me drool, and I had saliva running down my chin, my neck, and my cleavage. Tears were filling my eyes every time I choked. But I was sucking like a good girl, thanking my benefactor with a first class blowjob, a blowjob she took from the toy between her legs It all aroused me so much, to a point that I was about to come when she came in my face, with her rubber cock still in my mouth.

She let go of my head and leaned back on the table. I stayed on the floor, kneeling, watching her between my half-closed eyelids. Finally, she regained her composure and looked at me. “Get up, whore, the night isn’t over yet. You like to dance? So let’s go back to the party.” I got up. “But first, she said, I’m going to show you something.” She led me to the washroom, at the back of the unused hall. It was empty, of course, when dozens of women were queuing in front of the other washroom, where the party was held. There was a mirror in the room, and she made me stand in front of it. I was a mess! My hair was disheveled, splayed all about my shoulders. My makeup was ruined: I had mascara running down my cheeks and my lipstick was spread all around my mouth. When she lifted my skirt over my butt, I could see how red and marked it was from the spanking. There was also the wet, sticky spot my juice had left on my stockings between my legs. I smelled like sex and sex was spelled all over my body.

“So, what do you think, whore?” she asked. I looked at her and said: “Well… huh… I’m a mess.” I smiled shyly. She smiled back.

“You look just perfect. You look like the perfect whore you are, a cheap whore who’s met her first client of the night. Now, come back to the party with me and I’ll try to figure out how I could use you some more in the course of the evening.” I followed her, wiggling my red and greedy ass, my cunt a big, empty, needy hole in the center of my body. “Come with me”, she had said, and I did.

This short story was first published in Literotica.com.
Reproduction of this text is forbidden unless authorised by the author.
z.beline ©2005-2010

Voici un petit texte que j’ai écrit en 2006 et qui traduit une certaine attente…

Le sexe en feu et l’esprit en déroute, il n’y aurait pas d’eau assez fraîche pour éteindre mon avidité brûlante, je rampe comme une chienne en chaleur sur le parquet de bois, le bâillon me scie la bouche, mon collier me serre le cou, mais je ne sens que le désir qui m’empoigne la vulve comme une grosse main ardente, je veux qu’elle me touche, je veux qu’elle s’immisce en moi, je vendrais mon âme pour que sa main me pénètre jusqu’au milieu du ventre et s’y installe, y reste pour toujours, et je me traîne en rut dans l’appartement, pressant mes seins durcis sur le sol dur, appuyant mon sexe sur le plancher pour l’estomper, mais le désir est trop terrible, le besoin est trop grand, je veux trop d’elle en moi, je ne suis pas assez grande pour toute l’accueillir, je suis trop petite devant elle, j’ai trop faim et trop soif de ses coups et de ses coups de cœur, je veux l’avoir sur moi et partout, elle est loin, de l’autre côté de la pièce et du rêve, je glisse mon corps vers elle qui me guette, le chemin est long dans mon excitation sans trêve, mes mains dans mon dos sont si peu près de l’eau qui ruisselle au milieu de moi, elles ne peuvent l’éponger, elles ne peuvent qu’onduler vainement au rythme de mon corps, qui s’avance, qui m’approche enfin d’elle qui ne m’a pas quittée des yeux, son corps est une oasis où je me jetterais si elle n’était pas imprenable, me voilà, Madame, je reste la joue posée sur son pied, ma bouche entravée bavant mon désir, le corps tremblant d’une jouissance refusée, différée, à l’absence prégnante, puis, lentement, elle me fait remonter sur son pied de ma bouche à mon sexe en passant par mon cœur son pied est entre elle et moi comme une entremetteuse perverse, qui se joue de moi, qui ne me donnera pas tout, pas tout de suite, qui me laissera couler, sombrer dans ma luxure torride avant de se mettre en marche, de s’agiter à ma surface, avant de se saisir de mon sexe et de le torturer un peu, avant de m’autoriser à tirer profit de sa présence, avant de me laisser venir à elle, sur elle, sur son pied, son piédestal.

Toute reproduction interdite sans le consentement de l’auteure.
z.beline ©2006-2010

Le sexe en feu et l’esprit en déroute, il
n’y aurait pas d’eau assez fraîche pour
éteindre mon avidité brûlante, je rampe
comme une chienne en chaleur sur le
parquet de bois, le bâillon me scie la
bouche, mon collier me serre le cou,
mais je ne sens que le désir qui
m’empoigne la vulve comme une grosse
main ardente, je veux qu’elle me touche,
je veux qu’elle s’immisce en moi, je
vendrais mon âme pour que sa main me
pénètre jusqu’au milieu du ventre et s’y
installe, y reste pour toujours, et je me
traîne en rut dans l’appartement,
pressant mes seins durcis sur le sol dur,
appuyant mon sexe sur le plancher pour
l’estomper, mais le désir est trop terrible,
le besoin est trop grand, je veux trop
d’elle en moi, je ne suis pas assez
grande pour toute l’accueillir, je suis trop
petite devant elle, j’ai trop faim et trop
soif de ses coups et de ses coups de
coeur, je veux l’avoir sur moi et partout,
elle est loin, de l’autre côté de la pièce et
du rêve, je glisse mon corps vers elle qui
me guette, le chemin est long dans mon
excitation sans trêve, mes mains dans
mon dos sont si peu près de l’eau qui
ruisselle au milieu de moi, elles ne
peuvent l’éponger, elles ne peuvent
qu’onduler vainement au rythme de mon
corps, qui s’avance, qui m’approche
enfin d’elle qui ne m’a pas quittée des
yeux, son corps est une oasis où je me
jetterais si elle n’était pas imprenable,
me voilà, Madame, je reste la joue posée
sur son pied, ma bouche entravée
bavant mon désir, le corps tremblant
d’une jouissance refusée, différée, à
l’absence prégnante, puis, lentement,
elle me fait remonter sur son pied de ma
bouche à mon sexe en passant par mon
coeur, son pied est entre elle et moi
comme une entremetteuse perverse, qui
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se joue de moi, qui ne me donnera pas
tout, pas tout de suite, qui me laissera
couler, sombrer dans ma luxure torride
avant de se mettre en marche, de
s’agiter à ma surface, avant de se saisir
de mon sexe et de le torturer un peu,
avant de m’autoriser à tirer profit de sa
présence, avant de me laisser venir à
elle, sur elle, sur son pied, son piédestal.