collection of stories you shouldn't read at work
You touch me. Always in the right places.
My body, electrified like a house whose power has been restored. New energy surging through my veins like a car, lost, finally finding a gas station after running on ‘E’.
You touch me. Every inch of my being comes to life beneath your fingers, beneath your body.
Touch me. Bring me to life.
C. Stephens
She wants to play mind games with you; to have you wanting and aching for more.
She wants to fuck your mind before you fuck her body and introduces you to devious desires you never knew you craved.
She wants you to have a sense of control even though She’s calling all the shots.
She wants you. Or is that just an illusion?
C. Stephens
She lay spent from her orgasm still very deep in a space she hadn’t quite felt before. He spoke sweetly to her, hoping to calm her mind as the inevitable electricity coursed through her body. He quieted her as her shallow breathing told him how much she needed him to soothe her. He asked her what she needed and when she was finally able to answer, she simply said “I need more”. She was insatiable.
He began to work her back up, whispering dark and dirty things into her ear. The pleasure building once again, beginning to grow uncontrollable between her legs. Knowing soon she would have to ask for permission. Once she finally did, he wasn’t ready, he was close but needed to witness more lust and desperation drip from her lips. His denial made her desire swell and she could barely form the words to ask again, to plead with him. As she was finally allowed to give up control, she gladly thanked him over and over again as the second orgasm ripped through every inch of her body.
I am vulnerable, here in this moment I want to be everything you desire. See me for all my flaws and imperfections and love me still.
Here, in this moment at my weakest, I have discovered I am also my most powerful.
At your will, by your touch, by your kiss, by your lust I am thrust into nothingness and everything in the exact same second. I bear witness to infinite worlds we’ll one day explore.
Simultaneous, limitless, potential but no matter the possibilities I choose you. You are the only one who has delivered me to nirvana.
You are my drug, my addiction that needs no rehabilitation. I disappear into you and see our entire existence reflected in your eyes. Past, Present, and Future.
I cling to you as the world around me shrinks inward just before it explodes outward. Energy surging in every direction.
I am vulnerable here, in this moment, but with you I am unbreakable no matter the circumstance. This high, this addiction is enduring. Flaws and imperfections made perfect, you are all I desire.
C. Stephens
She stands in the middle of the room as people move about enjoying themselves. Her arms strung up above her, simultaneously showing the length of her body and pulling her breasts higher on her chest. The cold metal of the spreader bar attached to her ankles in stark contrast to her flushed skin. Poised between her lips, as if it always belonged, a ball gag to accompany her other accessories. Both breasts bearing jeweled, dangling nipple clamps combined with a matching clip, exposing her clitoris. Although small, each inspiring quite an elaborate atmosphere. The final piece to her wardrobe, her favorite of all his ties, a dark teal, silk fabric, secured over her eyes, magnifying her vulnerability.
Compliment after compliment quickly being shared as the party attendees stop to admire the room’s centerpiece. He stands and watches from afar as pride begins to well up inside of him. So many wishing they could touch what they can now only savor with their stares. He occasionally smiles to himself when hearing partners whisper of how they’d make use of her if given the opportunity. However, remarks and wishes remain bound among fantasy as the velvet ropes create a barrier to signify she is art on display or rather, his art on display.
I want to occupy a debilitating space in your mind. I want to reside within its deepest parts.
I want to be that thing you can’t even begin to wrap your mind around and yet crave me still.
I want to make contact and instantly occupy thoughts you never realized were there.
I want to know what someone else could give you is nothing in comparison to what you can only imagine I offer.
I want to be the itch you cannot scratch. I want to be one second with is far better than any without.
I want you to be at a loss for words the moment I cross your mind. I want to be your crippling downfall and invigorating rescue in the exact same moment.
I want to gain power over you, power you didn’t know you had to lose. I want you drowning so deep but with no desire to escape.
I want more than you can give.
C. Stephens
“March 5th, 8:00 PM sharp. You are cordially invited to a reception of the brightest minds in which you are asked to represent your respective field.” I reread the gold embossed text on the black vellum invitation. I look again at the matching black envelope with my address in the same gold embossed lettering. There’s no postage stamp or markings from a post office, local or otherwise, however, I recognize the return address as one from a very prominent part of town. Not sure who or why anyone would want me present at the caliber of soirée that happens in this particular zip code but I suppose I shouldn’t find myself on the bad list of some VIP I don’t even know. I decide it would be in my best interest to attend despite the last minute receipt of my invitation.
After I convince myself for the millionth time, I walk toward the door and lift the heavy knocker. In seconds I’m greeted by a very polished doorman who ushers me through the threshold after examining my invitation and begins removing my coat and bag. He then carefully places both items with the coat check. I’m guided into the foyer and I scan the room, committing the faces to memory and taking note of the overwhelming influx of people I have yet to meet. I move about the various spaces which can be described no other way than “stately”. Once again I ask myself who could have thought I belonged here?
I am here. I am yours. We both have known, it’s been no secret, and yet, somehow mutual understanding isn’t enough for you. So, I am here, compliant and composed, adorned on one of your favorite toys. I’m sitting, my back stretched in a lean. My arms, fettered out to my sides horizontally as shoulder blades rest against the warming leather pad and my head resting just above them. The stark opposite, cold, unforgiving straps secure me in place, binding me to you. My soul is naked as my breasts rise and fall with every breath. My upper body is fully exposed to you, at your disposal no matter how soft or hard your desire. No matter how light or dark your needs.
He had a power over her she would never fully understand. Most days she had no care to try and explain it. The closest she could come was that a piece of her resided within him while a piece of him resided within her.
He made her feel weak in the best of ways. He could look at her and as if speaking to her mind she would calm. On the other hand, the simplest of words could make her panties wet and she’d be left fantasizing about all the dirty and awful things he might do to her. And yet, their connection was much deeper than the sex. He cared for her, he protected her, he would do anything for her. She was his, beyond anyone’s understanding of the meaning and he never took this lightly, for he knew what she was surrendering to him.
She relinquished her life to him, trusted him, and believed in him. Even with her own strength and pride, he’d earned her submission and she willingly knelt at his feet. She helped make him feel whole and complete where there once was an ache he thought would never subside.
She displayed herself on their bed, messed about by their playing. On her knees she stayed, until he motioned for her to obey. She slowly began to bend at the waist to bow, hiding her face in the blankets.
She could hear the leather belt being drawn, the mundane sound of the metal buckles hitting each other. Only now, that sound echoed in her mind and brought new meaning to falling to her knees; her mental self becoming parallel to her physical self. Prior to this night she’d not been struck with a belt since she was a child.
She attempted to relax and drew in a deep breath, holding it for what felt like ages before letting it go. In that moment she imagined all the weight of her day leaving with it. Within seconds she felt the first swift lick of the belt against her buttocks. She winced, however, it wasn’t quite as bad as she’d thought it would be. She regretted her admission quickly, however, as the leather kissed her skin again, harder and faster than before, not allowing her to even fully grasp the fall she was beginning to endure.