Kitty supposed she'd been good lately. It had been months since she'd bitten or even felt the desire to snap at one of her master's friends. Recently he'd unbound her hands, apparently no longer seeing her long nails as a threat. Lucy (Kitty to her master and his friends) hadn't analysed the reason for her good behaviour too much, afraid that she might discover the reason and dislike it. "You are such a good and obliging...

"Come here you dirty little slut!" I didn't think I'd been beckoned in a worse way, and though the vile manner in which I was spoken to, caused a rush of juices to pool inside my lower lips, my arousal was still a secret. "Fuck you!" I said and turned my head back to my laptop. In my head, my wise voice, the one who always gets an opinion, but rarely makes any real difference, spoke the words. "What a cunt! Don't you dare...

My Gift of Me I love you. I hate the L word. I avoid it at all costs. People recycle it, over and over until the quality is diminished and it’s unrecognisable. I bet the person who invented the word to describe the indescribable, rues the very day that he or she shared that word with the rest of the world. You have to go a very long time without love to really truly know what it is to love and be loved, and it’s not about...

He loves how she saves, a special smile, just for him. How she never plans a thing, lives life on a whim. How she is bold mostly, but at other times shy, how she always stares curiously but only sometimes, asks "Why?" He watches as she overthinks, and listens as she sings, laughs as she stumbles, and makes a mess of things. He adores how she touches him, like she's never touched before, how their lovemaking tires him, yet...

I miss you. Like a solar-powered dancing flower misses the sunlight. What else can that poor flower do except dance?I miss you like a wind-chime as still as a coma, waiting for a late summer breeze to awaken it from its trance. I miss you Like a printer misses the ink cartridge which dried up, and was never replaced. What can a poor printer do if not print?I miss you like a dormant lighter tucked away in a drawer, misses...

Don't let yourself. Don't let yourself fall. Somebody somewhere makes notes of it all. When we are weak and when we are strong, When we make fools of ourselves for that one thing we long. There's nothing in textbooks, and nothing online. To tell us how, we can stay on cloud nine. I wish I could rewind with what I know now. Then I'd love you much quieter, but still never tell. I'd take back the truths that should have neve...

One thousand words cannot tell him what her smile, the one she saves just for him, tells him when they share a moment. One thousand kisses cannot show him how much she loves the feel of his soft lips and hot breath on her daily, without ration. One thousand touches of her hand, her fingertips on his, cannot touch him the way her desire for him does. One thousand easy ways to show you care, a book she glanced in the booksh...

I want you to do very bad things to me. Bad things that feel very good. Bad things that sometimes cause you to question the moral fibres of your being. Bad things with your hands, like say slap my face or my hairless aching need, use my peachy arse, which if allowed a voice, would deafen you with it's incessant begging for violation. Might you look at me with an adoration that I only know in my stories, so that we can cal...

“Didn’t the earth move for you?” he asked with humour in his tone. “Yes, oh yes!” she mocked, and planted a kiss she hoped would finalise whatever this was turning into, whatever this new thing was, that had begun to surface every time they had sex. The questions. The last time, he had asked what he might do to please her more. She had seriously considered his question but had genuinely felt that he already satisfied her...

 “I trust you’re going to be a good kitty whilst I’m at work!” he says as he slams shut the door to my cage and secures it with a heavy duty padlock. “Meowwww” I mock and add a wink for which I earn a scornful look, and then my master is gone, and as the front door closes, the scent of his aftershave lingers in the air to torment me. “How am I supposed to be anything but good!” I state aloud, the sound of my own unfamilia...

I’d never tell you how you warm me soI’d never show you, you’ll never knowI’d never call you and tell you “come round”I’d think it and wish it, but not make a soundI’d never tell you how I check my phoneHow I re-read our messages, when feeling aloneI’d never share with you, my dreams or my fearsNo I’d never tell you, how you bring me to tearsI’d never tell you, I might love you some dayNever would I risk it and scare you...

“Are you sure about this?” Tom asked her as she applied her mascara and gave her reflection a nervous little smile in the mirror. “Yes” she said, as she simultaneously without moving her lips she asked herself the same question in the mirror, and that was all. Ten minutes later he poured them both large glasses of pinot grigio and massaged her shoulders in an effort to relax her. The doorbell made them both jump and she t...

The Thieves Ellie had been only sixteen at the time and she wore tight little tops which extenuated her large breasts and gave her a brazen persona, she was as innocent as they come though and had only once kissed a boy, egged on by the encouragement of others. It had repulsed her actually! The idea of two people sharing saliva in that way, it tasted bad too and she never wondered how the spitting afterwards might have ma...

“I love the way you make me feel needed,” It’s quite a statement from someone who doesn’t appear to have an emotional bone in his body and I wonder whether it might be as practiced as your technique. As practiced as the condescending tone you add for effect, when you’re doing filthy things to me. Still I take it and analyse it. “Did he just call me needy in a round the houses kind of way?” my inner voice asks and then I s...

“I’m crazy about her!” he tells me, “I don’t know how she feels” “I think perhaps you do.” I say and “I also think that you should tell her” “Even if you say it just the once, put it out there, and then it can never be said that it was not known.” This is a story about un-reciprocated love. Not all stories are happy ones but still stories are there to be told. The Space “I love you baby” he says, except he isn’t smiling b...