Saved Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Stories that Get to the Point

by R. M. Walker

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “That’s good.” He smoothed quick hands over my gooseflesh, dipping into my crotch as he came back up, flicking a thumb over my clit. I stood waiting, while he finished his assessment of my body, arms aloft, mentally kicking myself for not taking him up on the good old-fashioned fucking. At least then this five-year itch could have been scratched before we got into the bondage.

  He must have been paying close attention because he stopped short of buckling both wrists and reached down to cup my tender mons. “Are you damp for me, love, or is that the cum of another man leaking out?” He massaged me roughly, the heel of his hand making delicious contact.

  I moaned, then replied, “Both, Sir.”

  Stepping back, he watched me. The absence of his touch was a wound, and I writhed with its pain. “You liked that.” Statement, not question.

  “Yes, Sir.” He reached up to finish the last buckled strap, but kept the distance between our bodies this time.

  He said nothing more for the moment, only standing and watching me spread-eagled for him in nothing but my bra and panties. He unbuttoned his suit coat, tossing it to the ground with a gleeful abandon. It wasn’t as if he’d need it again. Then slowly, each cufflink dropped to the ground and his sleeves were rolled up over corded forearms. He was glorious to look at. I both wanted to attack him to fuck his brains out and submit to him, and have him punish me for all the wicked things I wanted to do. It was a fun conundrum and dually entertaining.

  Finally, he walked toward me and turned my body, which now could only pivot from the rope tied overhead, around to face the waning sunset. The bright garden lights had clicked on moments before and they back-lit me, tied up like an animal caught in a trap. He pointed up toward the windows of the high-rise luxury apartments in front and to the right of me. In at least seven apartments, I could quickly count men, women, or couples who watched eagerly as he gestured to them.

  “Then let’s begin the show, shall we?” Oh please, let’s do.

  Circling my body like a lion with its dinner, I saw him pulling at his tie. The purpose was obvious a moment later when he reached around me from behind and used it like a garrote, quickly choking me and whispering in my ear. “You know, I’ve never been able to do anything I wanted. I’m not sure if I want to hurt you, or make you feel so good you’ll beg me to go back out and fix the world so you can feel it all over again. Maybe I’ll just keep you guessing, eh?”

  Shivering with the power in his words, I choked and sputtered for air, then nodded mutely as he released me, sucking in glorious oxygen. The burn of cool night air into my irritated throat excited me. My Master was in charge now, and I loved it.

  “You know, Fara dear, you’ve shown your tits to an awful lot of people over the course of your career. What’s a few more?” Still behind me, his smooth hands cupped and slid over the green fabric. I had a thought that it was almost the color of his eyes when I felt him rip downwards with bruising force. The flimsy fabric shredded, the band holding and sliding down my waist with the tatters still attached. “They’re watching, do you see? I bet they’re wondering what kind of boyfriend I am.” He walked back around front, rolling the tie up and placing it in his pocket.

  “Well, you see, I’m the kind of boyfriend who thinks a man should always present the lady he fancies with jewelry. Even better if it’s a piece she doesn’t own.” He stepped toward me, kneeling gallantly and presenting something in his hand held up as if to a queen. It was his tiepin, the one with his power symbol.

  “You don’t like my gift?” He grinned at my confusion. “Let me put it on for you, I’m positive you’ll love it.” He reached toward me, hooking under my waist, and pulled my body forward. I rose up onto my toes so that my arms didn’t carry all the weight as he pulled my right breast into his mouth. He sucked, hard. On the nipple, the breast, the salty sensitive skin underneath. Love bites pocked me as he lavished every kind of attention to that side and my inner sex kitten purred.

  The heavy weight of it popped free from his mouth, and he reached up to pinch the swollen and spit covered nipple with his left hand. The right, I watched, held a long, thin object that he was quickly bringing toward my turgid areola. Eyes wide, I saw what he was going to do. I knew it and squirmed, my body attempting to get me out of harm’s way, even as my cunt cried for the pain and ecstasy of it.

  My cunt won this battle as he quickly stabbed his golden tiepin through my nipple with merciless precision. Howling with the pain and fierce pleasure I felt, he tugged and capped the pin, leaning to lick the drops of blood from my chest. His mouth stained scarlet, and my blood in his teeth while he adjusted his painfully obvious erection, was my new favorite memory. More, please.

  His emotions felt vicious to me, raw and unhinged with need. He’d liked hurting me. He’d felt it deep in his soul and he loved me for trusting him.

  We were both crazed with need as he ripped the panties from my body, turning me to the side so that our home audience could also enjoy our pleasures. I felt cold oil drizzled down my back, making its way in between the cheeks of my ass. His hands were rougher with me, nearly trembling as he pushed my back down, my hands pulled up and behind my head painfully.

  A finger, or maybe a thumb, circled the tight pucker of flesh there. Once, twice, then roughly pushing in, distributing oil as it went. I tensed and cried out, then bit my lip. He was my Master. I was his slave. I was the warm hole for him to fill however he saw fit.

  Anticipation was a headier emotion than I’d realized. Even those few seconds that it took him to unbutton, and then strip away his trousers, twisted at my guts. I needed him to fuck me, and even though anal had always unnerved me, I wanted him inside of me more than I wanted to avoid the pain of that particular event.

  Before I could take a breath though, he sheathed himself quickly inside my ass. The pain was excruciating. Blinding white hot pokers stabbed themselves through the nerve endings he’d stretched wide, and my whole body convulsed for a moment as he pulled himself slowly back out again.

  “Fuck! Ahhhhh,” I yelled, uncaring of the consequence. How fucking dare he take such liberties? Who did he think he was? My brain screamed this at me while my tender asshole whispered to my throbbing cunt: He’s your Master.

  Nails dug into my hips as he pulled me back and forth, each stroke stinging like a hundred paper-cuts then singing like a bowstring pulled across my greatest pleasure. The twin sensations harmonized as he went on, competing for headspace, and I wished he could see the smile on my face.

  “Tell me you want me to fuck your ass.” He reached forward and roughly flicked the tiepin still stabbed through my throbbing nipple. I felt the painful electric zing arc like lightning all the way to my traitorous clit.

  “I want you to fuck my ass, Master,” I purred in my best porn voice.

  A hand cracked across my ass, hard enough to bruise. “Beg me.”

  His strokes slowed to a snail's pace. Torturous slides in and excruciating pulls out. Then he paused. “Please, Sir. Please fuck my ass. I want you to. I want you to stick your cock in my ass and fill me with cum.”

  Another strike, this one even harder. I would definitely go to my maker bruised... but fucking happy. The pain of the blow added to my state and I let the tears of pain fall happily down my face as I screamed and begged. “I want you to destroy me. I want you to fuck my ass until it’s a gaping pink hole. Oh, god! Please! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. I want you to spread my fat cheeks and- Ahhh Ahahh Ah.”

  My screaming, tearful tirade was cut short by him slapping me again. This time though, he was slapping one hand over my empty snatch and clit, with a vibrating egg in his hand. It was set to high and almost immediately, my cunt clamped down as he rolled it back and forth, still keeping up a punishing pace inside my ass.

  I wasn’t sure how long I could hold out, already the fireworks of impending orgasm were beginning their show behind my closed eyes. The sweet sting of his punishing rhythm was building to another ki
nd of climax also, and my body seesawed between them, clenching and heaving.

  I could feel his every emotion pouring into me through the open bond between us, and I cried with gratefulness when I felt the painful sensation of his cock engorging, preparing to fill me with his seed. At the same moment, I felt his mind releasing the years of pent up rage and sorrow over the things he’d had to leave behind in the interest of fate.

  We traded misery for bliss in that moment as I cried out, the egg finally striking a cord with the last nerve ending that hadn’t been plucked. I felt a gush run down my thighs as my cunt squeezed in time with the waves of my climax. The tight clamp of my body bearing down in its pleasure drew a cry from him also. A hot fullness stretched a place for itself deep inside me, unseating a second wave of pleasure that I’d never thought possible, and he stoked the fire it built until a bright, roaring flame burst and he fell over onto me, clutching at me and whispering as his body emptied itself into mine.

  My arms were burning when he finally pulled himself from me. His cock hung, glistening with my juices, against his dark hair, resting for now. Gently, he lowered me to the ground, grabbing a pillow from the chaise for my head.

  I watched contentedly as he unbuckled my feet but not my hands, and then with more attentiveness I observed as he crawled on hands and knees between my legs, stopping a breath short of the neat landing strip I kept.

  “Be still, little tart,” he whispered into my crotch, still wet with unused arousal. I could feel his cum leaking from my ass, pooling warmly under me. He noticed also and smiled downward at it, swiping a finger through, then gently stroking the slick digit over the swollen folds of me. “Hmm, this is where that usually goes.” He rubbed it in and it felt divine.

  My clit still tingled with the orgasm I’d just had, but when he lay on his belly and buried his face in me, I bucked and arched, nearly coming at once. He moved quickly away from my clit, sopping his face in the arousal that poured from my slit, licking deeply inside me. His tongue alone built a slow, heady pleasure and gave my clit something to be jealous of, and I wanted so badly to reach down and run my fingers through his hair.

  He finally replaced his tongue with his fingers, and moved up to circle my clit with his tongue. Long, slow, lazy circles as if we had all the time in the world. He crooked a digit, stroking the sensitive place deep inside me at the same moment he quickened his pace. My thighs squeezed of their own accord, trapping his head in place as if they wouldn’t allow him to get away without finishing me.

  I was spent, body and soul, but it was as if my body had rerouted power just to my crotch like the life support on a fictional starship. It made total sense, as every ounce of awareness narrowed to a pinpoint focus. There was only my release and the star-filled sky falling toward me as he pushed me upwards and outwards until I exploded into a million, brilliant sparks that shot throughout the universe.

  The buckles on my wrists released, and the impromptu piercing removed before I’d come back to myself, and honestly, I wasn’t sure that even if the world wasn’t ending, I could ever truly return fully to my body. I heard a distant clapping and his wry chuckle as he picked my pleasure limp form up, and moved me to the chaise and pulled me close.

  “Our audience approves, love.” I smiled at the sweetness in his voice. The tight edge of all his machinations had finally fallen away. I blinked away the rest of the stars in my eyes and allowed myself to feel the love he had for me, and the fulfillment he felt along with the respect he had for my trust in him.

  I wished sadly, for the first time, that we had a million more days like this one, just to be Fara and E, normal people. Then I snuggled into his chest as he pulled the blanket up, and we watched for shooting stars to make wishes on until we fell asleep, content for the first time and last times in our lives.

  * * *

  I was warm, and not angry at all. A soft, golden darkness hugged me while a delicious soreness reminded me I had a body.

  A halcyon aura bloomed over the edge of the rooftop, the beams just being born into this part of the world, and I lay still in its beauty as I watched E sitting on the ledge. I’d never seen him so relaxed while awake, and his beauty struck me in the chest like cupid’s arrow. I truly loved this man as much as he loved me.

  The irony of daylight was not lost on me, and finally, after the sun had fully risen, I wrapped the blanket around my naked body and walked over to sit beside him.

  He took my hand easily and smiled at me, beatific with the halo of the morning on him. “It was you.” A gentle squeeze of my heart acknowledged the words, but didn’t understand them.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It was you. The only thing I didn’t change. Five years and five hundred thousand branching permutations of change... all to save you. Fara.” He reached up and held my face lovingly in his hands. “The only thing I had to do was stay with you. To love you. I came home to you thinking at least I’d spend the last few moments with the only person I love, and somehow it became the one thing that saved us all.”

  Fragile hope expanded in my chest, along with a single nagging thought. “So that means the thing that ended the world... was probably me?”

  He chuckled. “Well, maybe? There’s no way to really know. Besides, there’s no way it will happen now because I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

  The sun stretched out to the horizon, along with the possibilities my life might now bring. I leaned on his shoulder, enjoying the freedom of being Fara Day, private citizen. “Hey, later, I’d like to take you to meet someone...”

  About the Author

  I’m an author, an oracle of chicken recipes, and a collector of rare diagnoses. I live in Texas with my long-suffering husband and three kids who are probably still awake right now even though it’s 2AM (go to bed!) I have a pug named Luna, a maltipoo named Bandit, and a shar-pei named Magic the Moose. Now, instead of having to talk to humans (which I’m kind of iffy about), I can make up stories and talk to my dogs as a legitimate job.

  I love stories where the heroines are just normal women who also happen to kick ass and take names. Especially when saving the world includes a lot of sarcasm.

  More works by Ann Swan:

  Covened – Mrs Pig & the Words of Power Book 1

  www.books2read.com/COVENED

  COMING SOON –

  Cursed – Mrs Pig & the Words of Power Book 2

  Watch my website for updates:

  https://www.annswanauthor.com/

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  Invisible Desire

  Tabitha Barret

  @ Copyright 2019 Heather Baker

  Invisible Desire

  After years of fighting for Fist, his support team must figure out what to do with their lives once his death is avenged. When Sayah finds herself alone, she decides to fight for Crimson Town and stop a villain who has already killed three influential businessmen. Will her unrequited love for her former team member distract her from her mission? Will she be able to save the city in time?

  Invisible Desire

  Standing over Fist’s grave, I watched the smoke rising through the pink morning sky. Our mentor’s death had been avenged and I was glad it was over, but our victory felt hollow. I glanced at Javin’s stoic face. The cold-hearted bastard was as unreadable as ever. Was he sad to see Fist gone, or was he relieved?

  Looking to Ara, her expression was akin to happiness, something I hadn’t seen in years. Her relationship with Fist had always been contentious, so I couldn’t fault her for feeling relieved that he was gone.

  It was the end of an era. Nearly
fifteen years had been spent trying to please Rupert “Fist” Drysen, and here we stood with little to show for our efforts. Sure, Rupert had helped us control our unpredictable powers and given us purpose, but at what price?

  Our families had happily handed us over to Rupert when we were each ten years old. None of them had been prepared to raise gifted children, especially ones with the ability to become invisible and occasionally slide through solid objects. Rupert had been the answer to their prayers. No questions had been asked before our three families had signed us over and disappeared. They had no idea that Rupert was a crime fighter who was building his support team, nor did they understand his complex personality.

  “With Halcyon dead and our vow to take down Fist’s killer fulfilled, we can finally do what we want. We may have hated Fist and his methods, but he trained us to protect the city. I say we set up a new base and get back to doing what we do best and watch over Crimson Town,” I said to the group.

  Javin frowned and shook his head. “It’s over, Sayah. We’re no longer indebted to Fist. It’s time to go our separate ways,” he replied.

  A lump formed in my throat. I knew there was a possibility that Javin would disappear the second Fist had been avenged, but I’d hoped he would at least consider staying.

  “I’m done with all of this,” Ara sneered. She pulled off her teal eye mask and threw it on the ground. Her solid form burst into millions of water droplets and she hovered in the morning breeze before drifting off towards the city.

  Seeing Ara leave was harder than I expected. Though Fist had never used the word “family,” we had relied on each other to be there.