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The Cavern of the Bear (OPEN~please read 1st post)

Fighting my voice, trying so hard to keep myself quiet. My cunt is alive and it's begging to be worked more. The vibrations feel like they're hitting my spine and I can feel my heart quiver. My body is pelted by a variety of hits. Some soft and almost massaging. Others are hard and leave tiny red welts from knots in the leather. It's a bizarre compilation of feelings and my body becomes so primal. I can hear my breathing, feel my navel and clit hit the bench every now and again. Suddenly it's too much and a tiny, pig-like squeal escapes my lips. If I could clamp my mouth shut I would but all I can do is pray it won't be noticed.
 
Small smile as the noise is noticed.
The hitting stops.
The remote is picked up and toggled off.
I allow silence to descend for long moments.

"Bet you hoped I wouldn't hear that, hmm?"

Anal plug is removed, the egg is tugged out by it's cord.

"You did well enough for a first time play date. Alas, noise means no more."

I kneel and remove the spreader bar before rising to tangle slim fingers in long hair. One hard jerk.

"Up on your feet."
 
I find my feet underneath me and stand up straight. Over? No more? Oh God no... I keep my eyes down and my mouth shut but tears of frustration stand in my eyes. I didn't do good enough, I disappointed Luna, it makes me nauseous to think about. Would begging help? Or should I retain my dignity and bow away gracefully?
 
I see the disappointment and though I want to give in, I won't. Instead I pull the slim beauty into my arms and press a soft kiss to her mouth, catching her bottom lip between sharp, white teeth.

"Now, sweetness, I told you that you did very well and I meant it. You kept from making noise far longer than I would have thought you could and I am very pleased with you. However, I did set the rules from the get go and punishment (in this case) is simply stopping, right now."

A small grin.

"No worries though, pretty girl. Next time, I will set different rules. Maybe you will be able to get through it without being punished, hmm?"

Another nibbling kiss, one hand snaking out to pull her closer.

"No pouting."

A slap on a pretty rear end.

"Off you get, doll face. I will find you again...soon."
 
Tragic and obviously wanting more, I accept Luna's kisses and wish for more. Maybe she'll come and string me up in my stables. Or perhaps she'll invite me back another day. With my chin up I try to salvage myself and quietly exit.

"Luna, you know you could always have me. I've said it before and I still mean it."
 
Story book lessons

It doesn't seem like much, not really.
Only a story told round the fire
to keep little boys and girls ashamed
safe. Unsullied. Careful.

It is the darkness of the heart.
The fairy tales of the new millennium,
told by the adults who claim to only
want what's best for their little ones.

No one knows the depths of another.
It is unknowable, a valley filled with dread
death, murder, mayhem, fear and
loathing, a story for sunset.

It is in the heart, right there,
that the truth unfolds and words
give credence to those stories told
round flickering lights.

Ghost stories, terror tales.
Heart lands made real with voices.
And we say, they say, you say~
it's for their own good.

​
 
Spread

I want to taste you
in that place that drips nectar
like a sundered wine skin
tongue tip teasing
softly scented succulence

An alliteration of abundance
Verdant~lush a field to graze
in that place, there
sweetly begging and open
beckoning for just one sip

give me just one little taste.​
 
Sunset~Straight on Til Morning.

Sunset always finds me outside, sitting some place high up. I require a good vantage point, you see, so that I can watch the darkness rape the fading sun into non-existence. I need to see the way the sun gives one last gasp, a thing of motley colored beauty dying by degrees.

I watch the sunset.

Once the red gold gleam has vanished and the first of many stars has come out to play? I move from my seat~a window sill, a ledge, a roof top~ and contemplate the next bit. What to do with all that dark? There are so many things that can be accomplished in the velvet blackness.

It beckons.

Contemplation only takes me so far, though. Eventually, legs lead me down~toward the earth. Gravity captures me, keeps me a prisoner. I accept it, because I have to. I am only human, after all. Not an angel, nor a demon. Acceptance doesn't mean I like it. Just means that I understand it and can work around it, if I have to.

Gravity. It's a downer.

Now, begins the dance. Up one side street and down another. Sturdy legs carrying me hither and thither. Eyes search the deeper shadows, searching, not finding, and moving on. Meanwhile there is the tick of my watch and the *click* of boot heels marking the passage of time.

The night is MY time.

I haven't a single solitary plan. I have no clue as to where I will end up or even why I would want to end up there. I never know, not until I am arrive. Mostly~ I just wander around and allow the night's rhythms to lead me into the morass of humanity. The city and it's darkness never fails me. It leads me into depravities I would never find on my own.

And I eat them all up.

Of course, come sunrise, the city will be missing a few people. That is to be expected. Some things I can not allow to continue. Some things deserve to be ended, especially if there are NO witnesses.

I love a happy ending.
 
Junkyard

You try and try to make some sense of the wreckage that accumulates whenever the love ends. You look at the past, at the scrap heap those relationships left behind and you wonder just when it got so bad.

How did this happen?

You play the blame game. Should I have done? Should she? Should HE? And you don't know and you can't tell and in the end, it doesn't matter. Because a scrap heap is still a scrap heap and relationships end, sometimes because the changes are too vast to be contained. However, sometimes? Things end JUST because the love dies, fades, leaves and you look at the other person and think...

"Fuck, is this all there is?"

And no matter how you try to fight it, the answer is always~

"Yes...and it is NOT enough."

So you go through the heap and you find perfect polished moments~

the laughter at a movie, while cuddled together, in a dark room, on a small bed
the birth of your second child and seeing his eyes, the pride
the knowledge that her hand will always be right there, reaching
the first sting of a whispered~Yes, Sir.
the first time you ever saw those blue blue eyes and freckles

and you treasure them, you keep them...

and the rest you toss away, into the darkest, deepest hole and beg yourself...you beg yourself...to forget it and just keep the good bits.
 
table scraps~for a Knight.

She waits for him. In the near dark. Body is oiled and soft and receptive to whatever he offers. Candles flicker, flames bouncing around the crystal chamber~ refraction, reflection, repeating. A symphony of colors~gold and red and green and blue.

So she waits for him~breasts heaving, slick with oil droplets that pool between them. She knows what he needs. An open mouth, a warm slick tunnel to place a turgid length between. Someplace to grasp and stroke...while he gasps and strokes. She has always known...and she wants to provide it. Needs to share it, give it. Become the tunnel and the warm, willing, waiting mouth at the end of a long day.

She has decided.

And so, now she waits.

Golden brown. Beckoning. Glistening. Waiting.

In the flickering darkness.
 
A Sage Inspires.

Open

Mouth, cunt, hands, legs.
Head, brain, soul, thoughts.
Waiting for, nay needing.
Something that will fill me up.

A passing fancy, shared.
A gift of wetness, tightness
Taken by surprise, fast.
Thrusting and hard.

For hours, until finally
The openings seam closed
And all thought ceases.
Until next time.​
 
Micah~A Retrospective.

There used to be a time, long before things~ exploded, imploded, fell apart, twisted~ when she knew exactly what she needed to accomplish to balance the scales for all the lives she had tossed away. All the lives she had stolen. She didn't count the demons, the shape shifters, the night walkers. They were not human and so did not count in her final tally. Nor did she count the child abusers~the molesters, those who would beat a child with their fists, denigrate them with their words. They were below even the others in her estimations.

No. She worried about the normal people, those who had done nothing but cross the group. Those that she had received money to end. Those were the faces she saw when she closed her eyes at daybreak and those were the roll call of names she recited upon awakening.

For years.

Endless years.

She had hunted. Hell, she still hunted. But age had crept up and caught her unaware. Her body did not do what it was supposed to anymore. She could no longer count on speed or strength to get her through each battle. Now, she needed the stealth she had learned. Now? She needed the one strike kill.

And those were getting harder and harder to come by.

Looking back at her life, she sometimes wondered if the hatred one entity had earned from her had made her~reckless. A soulless killer. Too quick to take the money and run, without purpose, without a qualm. Just the need to quench her blades, to ease her aches, to feel alive. Had she become the demon to those she killed?

Had she coerced, seduced, lied, flattered~all to gain the upper hand? Had she bartered away a portion of her soul while becoming cruelly methodical? Had she allowed her ire to turn her away from being...human?

These are long thoughts to have at forty. At fifty. At sixty. Yet, she had them. Even when she retired from the life~ only hunting those who would harm innocents. Even when she no longer accepted money for help given, aid granted, a swift end to someone that should have never been allowed to draw air, to someone who was more cruel than she could ever hope to be.

She thought these thoughts and she wondered.

Had she become the thing she hunted, hated? Had that thing, won?

She had never married. Assassination and married bliss did not belong together. For that matter, she had never birthed a child or allowed herself to feel empathy for another human, not really. Empathy was a weak emotion, one she could not allow while she~

watched a demon explode in a shower of sparks and oily smoke

stabbed a shifter through the heart with a silver dagger

staked a night stalker and took their heads, keeping only the fangs before setting the bodies afire

tortured a child rapist before cutting off all the parts that made rape possible

Had she become a machine?

She prayed on it~to a God she didn't believe in. She meditated on it while searching for emptiness and peace. She wrote of it, wishing for nothing more than expiation.

And still she didn't know~ had the scales balanced? Had she saved enough? Done enough? Given enough? Would death be the end for her? Or only another beginning.
 
Allowing a pup to leave the warmth of a home and a mother who dotes and fights and gives ALL that she has~ is hard. Especially when the pup leaves~not because she wants her freedom, not because she longs to do adult things and behave in an adult manner but because that pup can not have her way.

The mother~bred to nurture, to give, to do~feels betrayed.
The lessons did not stick.
The love does not matter.
The sacrifices were all in vain.

So the mother has to do the adult thing~and not hate the pup who has hurt her.
She must avoid speaking in anger.
Reacting with cruelty.
Leaving the pup to her own devices and snickering when things fall apart.

The mother has to support, even while she hurts.
The mother has to love, even while she hates.
The mother has to forgive, even while angry.

And it is hard. So hard.
But the mother is a MOTHER...and while human...only human...she must be there to help, to support and to give...so that the pup, far from home and all alone...
Will not fail, will thrive.
Will know that she is loved, still.
Wanted, still.

That is how it must be, should be.

But I ask...
When is the mother allowed to be angry, to rage, to hurt, to cry?
And why is that mothers are expected to be more than human?
How can I be a good mother to a pup that is far from home, when all I want to do is wring her neck and make her pay for hurting me?

When am I allowed to be human?


 
The ropes constrict, but they are not without,
Binding,
Holding,
Those that would bring pleasure.

The ropes are within,
Twisting,
Turning,
Painful.

Anger.
ANGER.
Sadness.
SADNESS.

Weak, fumbling fingers cannot undo
The knot that has formed.
Coiling, twisting
Strong as steel.

Fingers coil into fists,
When fingers can loose
Knots.
 
Strength

I have it. It is located deep inside.
Where it can not be erased.
It stays trapped, a ravening lion.
Waiting for the day when I feel broken.
I know it is there. I feel it.

But sometimes, I doubt my heart.
My mind. My soul.
Sometimes, I search it out.
Test it. Prod it with small fingers.
Just to make sure.

And I worry, fear, wonder.
What happens when I can no longer
access it?


​
 
She was here.

Quick, wasn't it.

It didn't take long. It took a moment or two to find her way here. She bit her lip nervously, glancing around the place, taking a moment for everything to sink it. She wasn't turning back. She refused to. As she wrapped the jacket a bit tighter around her curvy body, she turned around, waiting, her breathing a bit ragged.
 
Last edited:
A wolf looks up. A wolf in woman's clothing. Somewhere the scent of kitteh. Closer.

Coming closer until the kitteh is seen~ dark chocolate against the flickering rays of the day's last light. A contrast between the soft pinks and golds outside and the flickering candle flame within the cavern.


"I see that you've decided to come and join me, pretty kitteh. I wasn't expecting you so...soon. No matter. Come closer."

The words are spoken quietly, confidently. A small hand beckons pretty cocoa colored girl closer, light brown eyes tracing the form that hides beneath the clothing, beneath the jacket.

"Let me see you."
 
She waited. She was anxious, nervous, and excited all at the same time. She was looking forward to this very much. Probably more she should have been.

She had on minimal make up- a cat eye(Appropriate, right?) swipe of black eyeliner, mascara, a bit of blush and a nude lip, covered a light sheen of chapstick. Underneath the jacket was the black off the shoulder top, and the dark jean shorts. Not too over the top. She did want to look good though. She hope she had accomplished that task.

She was lost in her thoughts ad she shifted her weight, the heels she had on causing her curves to sway a little bit more dangerously. She tensed as she heard the voice. It had snuck up on her. She nodded quickly however as she glanced inside a bit, seeing the flame flicker back and forth. She did walk closer, taking a few steps more. The jacket she had on unbuttoned, revealing her outfit underneath as she blushed a bit.

"I..I hope it's alright. I wanted to dress...nice." Her voice came out smaller than she intended and she blushed deeper, looking down at her fingers.
 
That blush is just too much. The stammer. The hesitance? Yes. Delicious.

"You look absolutely stunning, pretty kitteh..."

Husky alto voice drops into a slightly lower register, making the next few sentences a growling purr that echoes throughout the vast space of the cavern.

"However, I believe you will look even better...nude. Strip for me. You may keep the shoes, your panties and your bra...for now. Lose the rest of it and then come here..."

Slender finger points to a spot just a few feet beyond where the wolf stands, dressed in comfortable clothing. Work out gear~shorts and black tee, black leather timberlands.

"Do be quick, pretty kitteh..."
 
Stunning.

She breathed a sigh a relief, a small happy smile coming to her full plush lips. She looked back up slowly, waiting. She couldn't help but glanced at the women before her, biting her bottom lip slowly. A warmth inside her started that couldn't explain.

But that voice.
The voice? Made her shiver, and could have been 100 degrees in that room. That voice made her develop goosebumps...and they haven't even started yet. She cleared her throat, and nodded quickly, taking a few more steps inside.

"Yes, Mam." She said softly, her black hair to one shoulder as reached for the buttons of her shorts and with a small click-unbuttoned them both. She slid down the zipper, and slowly slid the shorts down her body. She sped up the pace as she heard her words, and slid the off the shoulder top over her head, and stepped out of the shorts, leaving her in nothing but the red, strapless, lacy bra, and matching lacy boy shorts. She walked, and stood in the spot indicated, and waited, watching intensely.
 
Oh yes.

The kitteh looked like sin covered in strawberry glaze. I wanted to spend an hour nibbling on all the bits and pieces she had uncovered for me and then another hour or so uncovering the bits that remained hidden.

Instead, I stepped closer and reached out with one small hand to stroke caramel colored flesh over chocolate. I love the contrast. It makes me...happy.

"Oh. My. Yes. Very very nice."

Nails pinch flesh on one voluptuous hip before stroking upward to the flat expanse of young kitteh belly. I don't allow myself to press deeply, only hard enough to leave faint marks behind. It is enough, for now.

"I will have to go soon, pretty kitteh. The real world calls and I must answer but before I leave, answer me this...do you think you can meet me here tomorrow? Because what I want to give to you can not be rushed....and I do not want to hold you back from anything you may have planned for tonight..."

The voice is still deep and husky...and while I speak, my feet carry me closer so that i am circling her, a wolf with her prey...a juicy bit of a girl flesh to learn and tease and devour.
 
She looked pleased. And that made her bit her lip in anticipation softly. She watched her take a step closer, and her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft skin against her own, wanting more. At the pinch of her curvy hip, she made a small sigh. She felt nails against her skin and it caused her to whimper a bit. Her eyes opened slowly. She heard her words.

"Yes Mam. I can be here. I would like it very much."

Her voice was soft, and innocent, though it had a slight tremble to it. She swallowed softly, nodding once more, watching the wolf circle her.

"I can't wait."
 
Leaning in, I capture pretty kitteh mouth between sharp white teeth and nibble...then bite.

"Good. I will be here by 3 or 4 tomorrow afternoon and should be here off and on all day after that time."

Another nibbling, biting kiss as small hands encircle juicy kitteh and pull her close.

"Find me, please."

And with that...the wolf fades away....
 
The Cavern is still cool. Still dark. But now, instead of bare rock walls? There are a few additions. Some rings, a wooden cross. A black padded spanking bench.

All these things~unused. Untested. Awaiting a kitteh.

Just like the wolf who stands just inside the entrance, honey brown eyes focused on the doorway.
 
The next day.

She was probably even more excited than she was last night. Her hair was down, in all of it's curly glory-it came down to the ends of her shoulderblades now. Her attire was simple- a cropped, silver top, showing off her tummy quite nicely, and a pair of black jeggings with silver hardware, a pair of black a silver heels that topped it all off.

She stepped closed, biting her lip, and waiting.
 
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