thoughts

[silken_mystery]

I would love to hear some thoughts about my stories if you have the time to read them
http://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=145400

be gentle though.. please...

 

[silken_mystery]

oriental box intro

He walked into the house slowly. The foyer, brilliantly lit with the warm glow of candlelight, beckoning him closer. He tries a door. Locked. His hand reaches for the opposite entrance to another.. it opens slowly under his querying hand.

The room is empty, save for an old worn rocking chair, whispering it's melody, reminding him of memories far buried in his mind. His eyes roam around the faded walls, finding the only other piece of furniture within. An antique table, strategically placed against a far corner, upon it, an object. He walks closer, feeling pulled in by it's power.

The small oriental box captures his attention. He reaches out a finger, caressing it's grained beauty, worn over time and the kiss of loving hands caused by centuries of souls . He tries to raise it's cover, but it denies him. Beside the box lies two keys, and a faded note, which reads, "Welcome all who respect this box. Chose your key carefully, for only one will open this treasure, and only one choice you shall have. "

The keys fascinate him, as does the box. One, shiny, new, brimming with the feeling of vibrant flames, sparking his mind with passion, creating whirlwinds of images to flow into his thoughts. The other, worn, its detailed beauty faded, a bit forlorn and haunting... but so very soothing, a welcome oasis for a man longing to quench his thirst, within a deep dry desert. He walks over to the rocker, sitting to ponder his choice, knowing full well the strengths of each, and the wisdom it will take to chose, the box carefully cradled in his lap. The old wood of the creaking rocker talks to him, as he gently moves within it's arms. The keys, warm, one in each hand, beckoning, teasing.. calling to him from the depths of his mind...

 

[silken_mystery]

OB ch2

Chapter 2 The Girl By the Fire..(scent)

The key turns in the lock.. refusing at first to budge, but after a bit of firm handling, grudging gives up it's fight. As it opens, a waft of an unusual perfume tickles his senses. As he closes his eyes, he is transported back..

The girl is kneeling by the fire, brushing her newly washed hair, drying vibrantly against the shadows of it's flame. She is unclothed, save for a silken wrap which extends from hip to ankle, tied, in strategic places to create the illusion of pants. Her thighs visible to his eye, enticing him to want to discover the remainder of her bounty. A single droplet of water, slides from a still wet tendril to a waiting breast, collecting upon its nipple, taut in the chill of the room. She looks up and smiles at him. His eyes, getting lost within the depths of hers, before once again, resting upon the droplet, that refuses to break free from its resting place. He walks closer, stopping to stand before her.

Reaching down, he takes a long tress in his hand, weaving it through his fingers, before gently pulling her up to stand before him. He cannot resist, as his empty hand reaches up to catch the water that has collected, tracing her nipple with its moisture, before leisurely winding the now wet finger, between the valley of her breasts, and down her stomach. Her muscles tighten, as her breath grows shallow, yet she does not speak. His hand slides over the silk, along the slit of her mound, and she arches towards him, as he feels the silk grow wet.

His hand roams upward, sliding her long black tresses through his fingers, and winding them around his fist. His fingers tighten around her thick mane, and he pulls her towards him. She steps into the circle of his arms, and looks up with pearl grey eyes, which ask him in silence for his thoughts. His smile deepens, as his lips wrap around hers.

Her taste was sweet, enticing him to want to taste all of her. His tongue and mouth roamed from her bruised lips, down her neck, to the moisture between the valley of her breasts, tasting its nectar, before encompassing a nipple in his mouth and sucking hard, until it grew hard and taut beneath his agile tongue. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, yet she did not fight him. His fingers replaced his mouth, rolling her nipple in callused fingers, while his mouth played fire upon it's lonely sister. He pauses, raising his head, to quickly cast alert eyes over the room, assessing its contents. None were to be found.. only the girl in front of him, and the bearskin rug beneath his feet by the fire. He pulls hard on her nipple, drawing her down to her knees before him. His free hand presses the back of her head into his groin, telling her in similar unspoken words what he desires. She grasps the concept quickly, soft, hands, tattooed with henna raised to unzip his pants. She frees his hard member imprisoned within, giving him one last intense look, before sliding him into her mouth.

Her mouth, wrapped around him like fire.. her tongue sending flames throughout his whole being. His eyes close, enjoying the intenseness of the encounter.. his cock, burning hotly inside her able mouth. Her strokes fierce and deep, driving him within the very recesses of her throat, before sliding his throbbing cock out to the cold air, just its tip invisible inside her mouth, teasing. driving any other thought away from his mind. He must have her, he thinks, the second before the spasm rips from his body, and ejects through his shaft, sending hot cum spewing down her throat, as she drinks every drop of his fluid.

He shudders in his dreams, coming back to the present, his cock, throbbing within its confinement, the box clenched tightly in his hands.

 

[silken_mystery]

OB ch 3

Chapter 3.. The Music Box (Sound)

He forced himself to calm his pulse, breathing deep and slow. His fingers relax around the Oriental box, still caressing it's hard surface, still shaking a bit at the images still embedded in his mind... and his body. The sound of the creaking rocker soothes him, yet also whispers into his soul.. "Look onward.... "

He draws a deep breath, and opens its cover once again. The waft of perfume is still there, but only a pleasant memory now. His eyes focus on a plain, indescript wooden box, crudely cut and of inferior quality. Old, rusted and weak hinges, precariously hold its cover in place. His hand reaches out for it, curious as to why something so ordinary would be lovingly locked away in a priceless box of oriental beauty. He carefully opens it's lid.

Worn, and faded, the red silk lining the inside of the box begins to glow, becoming new and vibrant in color. At its center, mechanics, and the time-worn teeth start to revolve, and springs forth the golden dancer. Faintly, in the quiet of the still room, the music starts..

He approaches at the end of her rehearsal. Dancing alone, in time to a slow, mournful tune, that tugs at his soul, he watches her from the rear of the room. Her movements, fluid. Her tight leotards showing every muscle of her thighs, every curve of her breasts, every indrawn breath she inhales. In ending her practice, she bends over, displaying white cleavage, glistening with sweat, as she stretches for the towel. Chance, plays a hand, sending the towel sliding off the polished floor of the raised platform, onto the floor below. He walks towards her, pausing to pick up the towel, eyes, staring into hers as she takes it from him. A thankful smile lights her face, flooding light into his heart. She slowly takes the towel, erotically winding its edge down her neck, and into the valley between her breasts. Raising a leg, she unties a jade green slipper, sliding her hand along her leg, before reaching to free the other in the same fashion. Beautifully manicured feet stretch in the ecstasy of freedom. Her slender toes, a tribute to the perfection of the rest of her body. She gathers her bag, placing the slippers inside, before walking the length of the platform, her movements graceful, and artistic. He watches her, as she treds lightly down the few stairs at its end, waiting for her to approach.

She expected him this time. Her smile becoming sultry, and teasing. He takes her by the hand, casually sauntering toward the door of her empty dressing room, with her in tow. The couch catches his eye, and he sits down, drawing her into his lap. Her slender arms wrap around his neck, light kisses trail down his neck. His hand slides up to unwrap the leotard, conveniently tied at her waist. Wanting more, his hand finds the band of her leotards, and slips beneath them. A finger teases along her clit, spreading her lips, already moist against his touch.

Her hands leave their resting place, to hurriedly unbutton his pants, before curling a soft yet strong hand already around a hardening shaft. She moans as he continues his onslaught of her pussy, feeling his fingers driving deep inside her, pressing, separating, rubbing against inner throbbing walls begging for his touch, while his thumb torments her already pulsating bud.

She tilts her head back, and he takes a nipple into his mouth, biting gently, sending her into a sweet climax as his fingers work their magic. Lifting her with the sheer weight of his hand, his fingers, still deep within her, he slides her onto his waiting cock. Reaching up, he wraps her strong legs around his neck, before encircling her waist with his hands, rocking her hard and fast against him. Her spread legs, causing her ass, to tickle and bang against his balls, hard, fast, gently, softly, as he takes command of her body. She bends backward, providing him deeper access, a rag doll in his hands. He feels his cock throbbing inside her, then gripped tight by her pussy, as her muscles within contract around him, sending a flood of warm cum around his shaft. Her scream intensifies his movements, and slamming her hard against him a few more times, bellows a roar moments after her sound echos away, spewing a heavy load to encompass the swollen, heated flesh within.

The sound of the music grows louder, as the Stranger returns to the present. The music box still held within his grip, seemingly fragile as the song finally ends. Staring at the golden dancer one more time, he gingerly closes her back into her resting place, before setting the wooden box back into its home. He stares at the Oriental Box, wondering if indeed he's lost his mind.. first smell.. now sound triggering erotic and powerful images. He closes its cover. Needing a moment to compose himself he battles the throbbing of his shaft, which fights angrily against his tight jeans.

The box beckons him. A driving force, keeping him tempted to look further in.. He opens it once, again.

 

[silken_mystery]

OB ch 4

Chapter 4.. The Oil of Truth ( Taste)

Beside the crudely made music box, lies a vial of deep red, amber liquid. His hand gently picks it up, swirling its contents, watching the thick liquid press against the glass. The cork stopper is not sealed, and he takes it off and sniffs the contents. The bright fresh flavor of cherry assaults his senses. He tips the top of the vial over, upon his finger, spilling one single drop. The temptation is too much, and he raises the amber pearl to his tongue, cautiously licking it off the pad of his finger. The rich taste of newly picked cherries teases his taste buds, and he barely has time to re-cork the vial, before sliding once again, into a haze of fantasy.

She stands naked in the room, bronzed skin, glowing , patiently waiting for him to approach, the vial held within her waiting hands. He approaches, taking the bottle from her fingers. She shivers, as drop by drop, he applies the liquid to her body. Here. There. Watching as the dark amber slides sensously along her skin. She feels it's path, tickle her flesh, as it slides along the curve of her breast, licking it's way along the edge, before stopping where it will. Drops like candle wax, snake along her skin, creating images, patterns, she groans, wanting more of his touch.

After lazily finishing his art, he slides a single finger along her collarbone, feeling the oil smooth into her flesh under his hand, yet still slick and glistening. His finger continues, merging the drops of oil together over her breast, taking pleasure as he pinches her nipple in oiled hands, as he watches her chest rise and fall with sharpened breaths.

His assault with a lone finger drives her frenzied, wanting nothing more than the touch of a full hand, after a full hour of torturous teasing. Her eyes plead with his to make her wish come true, yet he denies her, winding his finger along her sides, down her thigh, before pausing to separate her outer lips, the oil on both her skin and his fingers, mixing with her own wetness, at the same time, continuing to holding her gaze with his own. She swallows hard, convulsing at his touch, pressing her telltale body against him, hinting at her need. His finger slides between parted lips, the oil creating warm heat, as he rubs it erotically along her clit. It hardens instantly under his touch. He mercilessly continues with varying degrees of hardness, softness, demanding... coaxing. He waits until the color of her eyes change in hue, before taking her bud between his thumb and forefinger, and pulling hard upon it, forcing her to follow in staggered steps, as he backs up to a well placed chair, and sits upon it, her clit, still pressed hard between his digits. She almost cums, when his fingers slide away, groaning as the chilly air meets the warmed oil.

He reaches up to trace her lips with the blended taste, and she licks her lips in silent anguish, tasting herself upon them. He pulls her closer, tongue meeting flesh, as it glides along peaked nipple, sucking deeply as she squirms under his mouth, causing erotic sensations driving into her crotch. She closes her eyes, as his fingers once more part heated flesh, stretching it tight and hard, exposing her now pulsating clit above his mouth. Her hands reach out to entangle her fingers in his hair, gently pressing him closer, wanting him so badly to send her over the edge.

He slides an oiled finger teasingly just inside her, wiggling it just enough to drive her wild, her movements trying desperately to take it deep inside, but he denies her once more. She tightens her grip on his mane, begging with body and soul for this torment to end, her clit now swollen and aching under the pressure of his fast fingers, flicking hard and fast against her. He raises her close to the edge, listening to her quiet gasps and silent sobs. A long, shuddering single scream escapes her, as he drives three fingers deep within her, as his mouth in tandem quickly grabs her bud, and flicks it wildly while sucking her deep within it's depth. He feels her muscles contract around him, her clit exploding against his tongue , as she cums hard and hot, down his wrist, it's spasms, leaving her shaking, as she falls to her knees.

The man awakens, blood pounding hard and painfully within his chest and hardened cock. He throws the vial back into the Oriental box, closes the lid, and prepares to leave this haunted place. Yet, a single step away from the door, it calls to him again..

He paces the room.. wondering once more if he'd lost his mind. Surely, this was not a reality to which he understood. Laughing to himself at his imagination, he fearlessly reaches down for the discarded box, setting it once more on the table, and opens it yet again.

 

[silken_mystery]

OB ch 5

Chapter 5.. The Rope and the Blade.. (Touch)

Below the vial of amber liquid, lies an object wrapped in a weave of silken rope. The item weighs heavily in his hand, and he sits back down in the rocker, to unravel its contents. The rope is unbound in a single long trail, spilling carelessly onto his lap, as the finally unearths it's contents. The blade is finely honed, its sharp edge picking up the remaining light from the window framing the setting sun outside. He studies it carefully. It's weight, perfectly balanced as if made for his hand, it's intricate carvings, unique, yet familiar. He sits back enjoying the workmanship of so beautiful a piece, and in doing so, realizes no dreams haunt his nightmares....His eyes turn to the rope still patiently curled in his lap. Sliding the blade under a single loop, he watches the rope play along its edge, and in a heartbeat, she was there.

The walls of the room were stone, hand inlaid and uneven, with iron rings embedded in it's granite. Not a single piece of furniture existed, and the room only lit by a fire in the corner. She stood in the shadows uncertain, a tinge of fear in her eyes as he approached, with blade and rope in hand. A soft caress upon her cheek brings a gentle smile to her face, making her turn willingly towards him. Still in wedding garb, of sheer lace and thin silk , her skirts rustle as he leads her to the wall, her slender frame seemingly fragile, against the rough stone.

The wall is cold at her back, yet her breasts and stomach hot from the nearby fire. He leans down, kissing her deeply, drawing her out, challenging her to meet his erotic presence. He slowly turns her on, his tongue teasing hers, it's tip barely touching. She grows hot, wanting to feel him closer, her mood changed from innocent bride, to fiery wanton. And when he feels her mood shift, he reaches up, sliding the rope around her wrist, before tying it to an iron ring. It's sister to the right waits patiently, knowing the metals will soon echo in sound, as he completes his task. A quick cut on the rope, the knife effortlessly slicing through the material, and he uses the remaining piece to secure her ankles to u-bolts embedded conveniently within the hard floor.

The fire crackles, and calls her attention. It's flames mesmerizing as she watches them reflected off the knife in his hand. The hand comes closer, her breathing quickens. He studies the fabric wrapped around her, wondering where to carve his art. He reaches down, holding the hem of her silk skirt taut, and draws the knife slowly up its seam. The whisper of silk reaches his ears as it slides from ankle to crotch, god, how he loves that sound. She exhales a held breath, finally allowing herself to move, as the blade is withdrawn. Her movements brush the silk fabric against a shaven pussy, for not a single stitch had she been allowed to wear beneath her dress. The satin had erotically teased her flesh all day, and made dancing almost unbearable in its constant reminder against her skin. She knew her torment was only beginning.

The laces on her bodice, catch his attention. He watches as she sucks in a deep breath, emotions playing heavily along her face, before turning his eyes to her bounteous chest, barely contained within them. Slowly, a row at a time, he slides the lace along his blade, each time revealing more and more flesh beneath his eyes, and causing his pulse to race as he plays with her mind. Its sharp edge taunting her, daring her to move, as he carefully slides the ice cold steel along the revealed flesh, when the whim strikes him. Her breasts lay open to him, and he pauses to pinch an engorged nipple within his fingers, after drawing it forth with the pressure of his mouth. Her eyes grow wide as he holds her breast horizontally outstretched only by the nipple he holds, and slowly runs its blade around her dusky circle. She cums instantly, forcing herself not to move, as her hot fluid runs down her leg. He withdraws the blade, letting her breast lie back against her heated flesh, and steps back to admire his handiwork. Her dress now open and hanging like an unbuttoned cloak around her frame, held only by the tiny straps at her shoulders. "Move", he whispers, taking pleasure as she slides as much as her bonds will allow, watching the silk tease her flesh, as it rustles in the quiet of the room. Her nipples scream for attention, and her pussy echos that driving thought as the fabric taunts her. Her scent, strong in the airless room, assailing both their senses.

The blade warms in his hand, and he wanders back to cut the straps of her gown. The silk whistling, as it falls into a disheveled heap around her feet. Her body shivers as her heated flesh meets full contact with the cold stone. He turns to warm the blade by the fire.. not hot, yet a quiet warmth to yet confuse her senses. He approaches towards her, expertly turning the blade in his hand, while reaching up to press a hand against the flat of her stomach, holding her still against the wall. The knife dips down, tracing along her inner thighs, and she cries out, wanting so much to move, yet knowing a single inch could be dangerous. His cock grows hard, hearing her scream in frustration, and tightening his grip to hold her still, traces the blade along the hairless line of her lips, before ever so gently kissing her clit with its tip. He senses her muscles barely contract against his hand, and removes the blade to flip it end to end and slowly inserts the handle within her already wet canal. The contact of the metal in tandem with the emotional vortex within her mind was too much for her, and she coated the blade with her dew instantly, her scream echoing in the empty room. That proves to be his undoing, and he quickly slides the blade out of her still throbbing pussy, to cut the tethers at her feet. Reaching down, he unzips his pants, at last freeing his throbbing member to the air. Grabbing her legs, he wraps them around his waist, and thrusts fully into her, his cock feeling her muscles, still in a rolling orgasm, contract and lessen around his shaft her as he slides into her.
Helplessly still unable to move her arms, , she can only yell as she arches herself toward him, as he slams her hard and fast. He buries himself to the hilt, while wondering at the same time,, which knife was her true undoing? He smiles as he shoots his load deep within her,a low growl deep in his throat as he cums... and thinks to himself.. I shall have years of pleasure to discover that answer,, and many trials to prove it's case.

The Stranger looks down at the knife in his hand, and quickly re-wraps the rope around it, before dropping it back into the Oriental box. His mind now tells him it's no trick, yet he cannot turn away from the contents. As each story unfolds, his mind grows more curious, for surely he sees himself as the man.. but what of the women? He looks down at the objects remaining. Two left

 

[silken_mystery]

OB ch 6

Chapter 6.. The Sultry Singletail (Feel)

Both items are black, both appear to be cloth. His hand reaches out and takes the one next in line. A simple blindfold. Yet, knowing what he has seen, can a blindfold be so simple? He sits back in the rocker, his hand lovingly stroking the fabric, and once again, the dream comes.

She awaits him by the lake. The peace of the calm morning shared with the swans, which call it their home. A cove of trees frame the small body of water, rustling in the slight wind. He takes her hand, leading her to a spot previously chosen among them. The forest carpet, soft under her bare feet, the warmth of the sun, barely peeking through the denseness of the thicket, and she shivers slightly, while adapting to the shaded grove, wearing only a thong 2 piece bathing suit, for she had thought their intent was to swim. She was so wrong. They approach a small clearing, framed by 2 small yet sturdy trees, and her eyes widen as the light dawns within her mind.

The trees were perfectly placed, enough distance between them to make it interesting., as was a strong bow overhead. He leads her to the center and motions her to stand, kissing her gently on the forehead. Sauntering over to the foot of the tree on the left, he reaches down for the cuffs he had placed there earlier, almost invisible against the darkened tree trunk. Slowly he walks around her, judging her mood, while contemplating his desires as she stands quietly awaiting him. He reaches out, untying the strings holding her bikini top on, and it falls silently to the ground, leaving her breasts exposed to the wind's mercy.. and his own. A single fingernail slowly rakes her back, from neck to the base of her spine. She shivers. He whispers in her ear. Obediently, she offers her hands, soon finding them tied high to the bow above. Her feet, although still flat on the forest floor, have little slack, and she shifts to adjust her weight against her bonds. Her movement is futile, for her legs follow his next thought, soon finding them spread eagle, tied to trees on either side. The wind rustles through her mind.. "wait.. wait..." She grows tight and wet with anticipation. The same wind challenges his fantasies.... "show me... " He feels the rush as he senses his own thoughts, and that of hers.

He looks up, judging the soft wind, making sure it is tame enough to proceed. Oddly enough, it quiets, almost settling in to enjoy the display he has so generously provided to Mother Nature. He walks close, kissing her gently, and softly caresses her cheek, sliding down to brush the pads of his fingers ever so gently against taut nipples, now standing peaked in the morning air. He wets a finger and swirls it gently around a nipple. She groans at the sensation, as the cool air makes contact. His hand slides to her ass, sleek and firm, testing it's muscles as they play along his hand. His hand reaches beneath her thong at her opening, already wet and ready, as he slides it between the crook of her ass, pulling it up tight. She leans back into his body, her head brushing against his shoulder in silent plea. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the blindfold, and uses this advantage to wrap it around her eyes, before tying it behind her. Her senses grow sharper. the call of the birds within the shelter of the trees, the soft rustle of wind, caressing barren flesh, the warmth of a ray of light playing upon her bare flesh, warm and glowing, as it shines over her shoulder, the ropes that hold her, and the smell of morning dew fresh on the leaves, and the smell of anticipation.

He smiles, hearing the item in his pocket sing to him, reminding him of it's presence. He withdraws it, to untangle the chain, clamps in hand. Her breath quickens, for she, too, had heard the sound, and had guessed his intention. Her nipples, already hard crave the clamps still held in his hand.

His hands, warm and calloused on her nipple, are quickly replaced by the clamps and chain, becoming cold against her skin. She cries out as he slowly applies them, the sharp bite of the springs making her gasp. Her arms tied above her, makes them dangle in perfect unison as she shifts, her pussy throbbing in response to its pressure above it. He steps back.

After lazily enjoying her inner turmoil for a few moments, he walks to the other side of her for his last deposited possession. The singletail lays coiled like a snake at the base of the sister tree. It warms in his hands as he unwraps its length. Taking it end to end in both hands he proceeds to slide it lovingly along her back, and she arches back at the feel of hard leather erotically kissing against her skin. Letting go of its end, he snakes it over her shoulder, watching as it winds its way along curve and limb, falling out of range, when the weight is unbalanced. Her breathing grows shallow as it hits a now highly sensitized nipple. He reaches down behind her, grabbing it once again, before sliding it tauntingly between her thighs.. slowly.. so so slowly.. Her body begs against its tethers... wanting only to feel him inside of her, shaking as both he and the leather draw away.

The first stroke of the tail kisses her ass, as gentle as a butterfly wings upon her back.. A whisper of touch, soft, alluring, almost making her wonder if it even touched her sharply sensitized skin. He lightly plays it along her back and thighs, teasing, taunting, as he watches her body movements, groaning in frustration against his touch. He taunts her with erotic strokes, each one well placed to further deepen her senses. She grows quiet, reveling in the kiss of erotic leather gently playing along her body. The palm of his hand at the flat of her back motions her to be still, and she complies.

The first sharp crack is still unexpected, leaving her breathless, and she cries out to the wind, it's sound reaching her ears split second before she feels it's sting hit, sharp and sweet upon her ass. The sudden jerk of her body awakens the chains, and they begin to dance along her front, causing the clips on her nipples, to bite harder. A quick shreak from her mouth fills the morning air.

He proceeds. 2.. 3..4... 5. The whip, hard against her flesh, coupled with the clips that hold tight at her breast becomes her undoing, and she screams to the gleering trees as the first orgasm takes her, and he pauses, as she strains against her leash. He reaches in, taking her dew on his finger. She fights hard at her bonds, wanting desperately to feel it 's touch deep within, but the tight ropes prevent her from obtaining her quest. He slides his finger along her lips, her nose assailing her own senses, as he moistens them with her nectar. Her mind focused on this new sensation is unprepared for the kiss of the whip, once more on heightened flesh. She screams.. in frustration, pain or ecstasy, she knows not what. Just when she thinks she can bear it no longer, the head of the whip slides hard and fast into her already pulsating pussy, and she screams loudly once again, as she spews her cum around its sheath instantly, begging him to stop.. or for more. He relentlessly continues until she tests the strength of her bonds as she pulls hard against them, and another earth-quaking orgasm rocks her frame. She dances in mid air, as she spins on the ropes holding tightly above her..

He comes crashing back to the present hard, as the erotic thoughts finally register in his mind, sane, once again, the rush still very visible in his breathing, pulse, and throbbing cock. Thoughts of other fantasies flood his imagination, as he sits with the blindfold still in hand, now just a piece of fabric, patiently waiting to rest once again. He replaces it back to it's place inside the Oriental box, and sits for a moment, reveling in the power of the episode previously seen. His body and mind thirst for more. His eyes turn to the final object remaining.

 

[silken_mystery]

OB ch 7

Chapter 7.. The Crystal Ball.. (sight)

The object is heavy .. nestled in a black cloth bag. He takes a deep breath and unties the drawstrings holding it close. His fingers reach in, meeting a hard, smooth object, and his curiosity is peaked, as he tips the contents out, into his awaiting palm.

The crystal ball is small... just large enough to sit evenly within the palm of his hand. No scratch or dent mar its surface. Yet the shadows in the room dance within it, while being teased by the light. As he looks closer into its depths. the room starts to fade...

The room is dimly lit with sconces, placed strategically on the corners of each wall. Rough-hewn beams frame the ceiling, bearing its load every 8 feet. The room is massive, and is complimented by the bed in it's center, framed by it's brass railings, and matching canopy overhead. She sits calmly waiting for him, kneeling upon its surface. Her eyes meet his as he walks up to the headrail. He looks down as his foot encounters an object, and he smiles as he bends over to pick up the cotton rope left conveniently for his pleasure, tied by a black silk scarf. She continues to watch him as his fingers find the knot, freeing the scarf, which slides erotically through his fingers. He sits on the bed, eyes beckoning, and she comes closer, bending her head in acquiescence to his silent request. The scarf is tied around her eyes, blocking out the remaining light from the room, and her senses become more swift. She hears her own breathing, sounding loud in the still of the room, and picks up the noise of his footsteps as he walks around the bed surveying it's advantages. She shuffles slightly upon the bed, regaining her balance, and jumps, as his hand encounters her naked flesh, stilling her movements with a single touch. He whispers a command in her ear, and her hands obediently reach out to grope for the railing in front of her. She connects with the cold metal, and wraps her fingers around its frame.

She feels his touch upon her leg, his hands around her ankles, and the tight knots of the rope as he wraps it around, up over her leg before tying it off to the railing, spreading her thighs wide. A rush of cold air caresses her opened lips as the drafty room blows its kiss toward her. She sucks her breath in, the erotic feel of the chill causing her nipples to stand hard and erect against the metal frame. He wets his finger, sliding it over one nipple, watching her chest rise and fall as the chill takes effect.

His hand reaches down, searching in the bag he had brought with him, pulling out a handful of feathers, each hand picked for this occasion. The quill is sharp, pointed, and stiff as he runs his fingers alongside of it. Her ears pick up this sound, not knowing exactly what he has in store, not recognizing that which he holds. He looks towards the others he holds, each a different grade of roughness, some soft and sensual. He chooses an ostrich feather, sliding it ever so gently along her back.. She groans in pleasure, as her body betrays her, shivering under the touch. He slides it along her spine, down between the crack of her ass, before reaching between her legs to draw it between her opened lips, teasing and taunting. He dips a quill into a glass of ice water, smiling, as he weaves it along her frame, stopping from time to time to wet it more thoroughly. She strains at the bonds that hold her as he hits a tender spot along the side of her breast. Droplets of water paint her frame, and slide erotically down her body, each creating a different sensation, as her mind tries desperately to stay focused. He whispers in her ear.. " I haven't even begun, Slut. "

Her ears pick up the jingle of metal, hearing him slide it through his fingers, as he allows her the time to figure out what it is. He slides the cold steel over her shoulders, and she arches her back, jerking forward, as it makes contact. Slowly he allows the chain to fall over her bounteous breasts, before reaching around to attach the set of clamps over each taunt nipple. She tenses briefly at the contact, slowing her breathing as she gets used to the pressure. "Want more, Slut? " he whispers, not waiting until she nods her head hesitantly.

His hand wraps the chain once around the bedframe in front of her, before sliding the remaining clamp onto her clit. Her body jumps back, away from the railing, causing the clamps on her throbbing nipples to pull her back to her place. Totally bound, hand, foot, and enslaved by the chain, she awaits his next move.

Picking up a duck quill, he torments her nipples ruthlessly, the hard feathers only adding to the sensation of the clamps, as she struggles hard not to move. A jerk of her hips remind her of the clamp placed below, as its metal chain attached to the clamp kisses her pussy, now wet with desire. She grits her teeth, not wanting to scream allowed in frustration, knowing that it will only prolong the agony.

She feels his touch on her thighs, his fingers at her opening, and finally lets out a gasp of relief as he slides them hard inside her. He fingers her hard, his movements causing her body to shake, as the clamps bite down on her flesh. She moans as the pressure builds within her, needing, yearning, and wanting to get off so bad, that she welcomes the pain. He brings her to the edge, holding her there, quickly sliding out his fingers as he feels her get too close. She screams in frustration, beyond the point of caring, every muscle in her body tense with need.

He runs a finger over her lips, letting her taste her own essence, before sliding them into her mouth. She sucks deeply upon them.. her tongue, showing her desperateness as it winds around each knuckle. "Easy Slut," he whispers. Once again, he reaches into his bag, this time pulling out a tiny dildo, and slides it into her begging pussy. His fingers hold it in place, as his palm rests firmly on her mound. " Ready, pet? " he says

She has no time to think as he takes off the clamp at her left breast, the walls of her pussy closing hard around the toy nestled barely inside her as the rush of pain hits. Close.. so close. She breathes in, preparing for the other to be removed, and lets out a single shriek as the blood rushes back into her nipple. Her wetness drips around the toy, yet she is denied relief.

He wraps the removed chain around her waist, and up between her legs, pulling tight, before linking the two together, creating a belt to hold in the toy. Hands free once again, he sits back to ponder his next move as he watches her writhe against the small dildo, her body begging it to bring her some relief. He glances at her breasts, just visible above the brass headrailing, and cannot help but walk to the front of the bed to suck deeply on one, while he rubs a hard nipple between his fingers over the other.

Her breathing is shallow, coming in quick gasps, as his tongue plays havoc with her flesh and her senses. He wants to taste her more, and briefly stops to reach up and untie the ropes at her feet and hands. She stretches out her muscles, the movement causing the toy within her to rub against wet walls. He removes the blindfold, and her eyes adjust to the light, before meeting his own.

He smiles. "Having fun, Pet? " he asks. She nods her head, knowing that she has been forbidden to speak. "Good girl," he responded. He reaches over to brush a tender kiss upon her brow, and she leans into his strength for a brief moment, the chain between her thighs pushing the toy in a bit deeper. She groans. He pulls her down on the bed, the muscles in her back relaxing as it meets the firm mattress, before feeling his hand removing the clamp on her clit, and she cries out, pushing her hips forward. As it meets his hand, she is once again reminded of the toy taunting her body within. He watches her eyes, as they glaze over with desire, before making his decision.

"Stand up, Pet" he directs her, stripping off his shirt and watching as she rises to stand next to the brass railing. " Grab it" he says, and she reaches out to steady herself against the metal, adjusting her legs to accommodate both balance and they toy still held captive within her. Her eyes widen, as she sees the leather whip in his hand. He slides it erotically over her flesh, taunting, teasing her with both its soft touch and the smell of its leather. Her muscles clench around the toy within her, making her wetter.. still wetter.

He begins with light, caressing strokes, and she is lulled deeply into it's rhythm while her body grows placid and calm. As he picks up the pace, each stroke upon her ass causes the toy to rub inside of her. "Thump, thump" the whip drones. "Bang bang " the toy responds. He continues to build her up, hearing her moans deepen in response to the singing of the whip. A few hard cracks arch her forward, making the toy slide in and out, with the rhythm of the whip. A wail escapes her, followed by a single tear.

He tosses the whip down, reaching for her to turn her around, tenderly pulling her into his arms for a quick hug, before sliding her to her back upon the bed, before removing the rest of his clothing. He reaches for the chain around her waist, unwrapping its length from between her wet thighs, the toy sliding free of its own accord. "Spread your lips for me, my Pet" he directs her. Her hands reach down obediently to hold herself open for his whim. "Tighter" he demands. "Stretch them tighter." She obeys.

He slides beside her before wrapping a long slender leg over his shoulder then settles himself between her parted thighs. Her breath grows quick with anticipation, before screaming out to the bare room as his tongue sucks momentarily at her clit, still a bit tender from the clamp. Again, he brings her close.. her bud growing tight and hard, her spread lips creating the tension for incredible pleasure. yet again he denies her the need. He lazily raises himself up on his knees before looking into her eyes. He strokes his cock above her, before bringing it down to brush her lips with its velvety head. "Do you want it, Slut? " he queries. She nods her head vehemently. "Take it," he says in approval. His hand winds its way within her locks, tightening them around his fingers, as he forces her head to his groin.

His cock slides deeply within her throat, and he proceeds to fuck her mouth, sliding his pulsating member in, and out, while her tongue wraps around it's sheath. He feels her lips brush at the base of his shaft, her hair whispering against his inner thighs cascading over his balls, teasing, in motion with his thrusts. He grows rock hard, luxuriating in the feel of her roaming tongue, the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her nimble mouth, tensing as she deepens the pressure as she sucks him hard and fast in time with his motion.

He slides it from her mouth, seeing it glisten in the shadows with her saliva, and grabs her legs to push them over his shoulders, then drives himself deep within her still wet mound. He pounds her hard, feeling her walls tighten around his shaft.. more.. more.. her breath grows ragged, and he gives her a single look, reminding her that it will be his choice as to when she will be allowed to cum. His hand reaches down to tug at her clit, sending her higher, higher, making her toes curl in need as the pressure builds almost agonizingly. She can stand it now longer, and screams out a single word. "PLEEASSEE! "

He removes his hand from her clit, and reaches up with both hands to grasp her nipples, pinching them hard, as he demands "cum for me, my slut." He surges hard into her, feeling her collapse around him, the waves of orgasm hitting her so hard, it feels like a vice around his throbbing cock. He drives harder, combating the force that pushes back against it, as her muscles tighten and contract around him.

He tightens his grip on her nipples, this time pulling them hard toward him. "Again" he demands, waiting to release them until he feels her juices pouring over him, running down his shaft to lick at his balls. He spews hard into her, no longer able to battle the intenseness of her muscles pulling at his shaft.

 

[silken_mystery]

OB tomorrow

Tomorrow....

The man comes to his senses, the crystal clenched tightly within his hand, and his fingers painfully cry out as he loosens his grip. His cock screams out in need, not being able to take much more punishment of the erotic visions. He replaces the crystal back into the Oriental Box with a shaky hand, before rising to put the Box back on the table.

A metallic "chink" hits his ears, and he reaches down to pick up the shiny, new key that he had not chosen, which had fallen to the ground in his haste to rid himself of the box. As his hands make contact with the key.. an apparition appears before him and speaks through his thoughts...

"The key you hold within your hand, is unworn for good reason. Keep it with you. It's tumblers shall be carved as each wonder in life beholds you. It's shininess lighting your way as you go, guiding your steps, aiding you in every decision, a Guardian, if you will.

It will age, as it experiences life with you, sharing your memories, your dreams, and in moments of need, a single touch upon it will help you to recall the happiness in your life, each groove, a kiss upon your soul to calm you, or a rush of raging power, should you be in need to remember. You shall hear the names of your loved ones, whispered on the wind as it brushes against your cheek, as rain, gently soothing your mind as it caresses your body, as fire that stirs your blood, and as earth, that helps you to stand on your own two feet as you walk with Fate beside you.

Had you chosen to open the box with this key, it would have been empty, for, like the key, your destiny is not carved yet. 'Tis for YOU to decide.. a shiny key, promising life, richness, but holding no memories, no risk, no gain, only one that you create, full of promise, hope, and love. It will become cherished, worn, with love and caring hands and deed, protected against all unknown elements. Like the keeping of a woman. Or a precious pet. All doors within this house are open to you now. And in one, may you find what you seek. For this key, can unlock untold secrets.. and you're greatest joy. "

And with that, the vision was gone...

 

[silken_mystery]

OB man behind the keys

The man clasped the key in his hand. Lifeless, empty, yet holding a certain yearning within it's barren metal. "All doors are opened" the thinks. "What the hell does that mean ". The visions had done their work well. Leaving him wanting, needing the touch of real flesh, shivering beneath his hand. One last look around the room, a gentle caress of that Oriental Box which had shown him so much, and he turned to depart.

The hallway lead in several directions. Like fate, it puts paths in front of us, leaving us to chose which fork to take. He turns left, it's corridor somehow calling him, as does the sound of a gentle voice, humming silently to herself. He is lured by the sound. Passing first one door, then the next, knowing they'd be open to his touch, but he wanted only one. He stops at the end of the passageway. His hand, upon the doorknob, finding it locked. He looks down at the key he holds. Unmarred by a machine that creates it's notches. He shakes his head, knowing that no blank key can open a door, yet this one.. this one....

Opens with a whisper of silence beneath his palm. Soft, cool air caresses his face, a wift of intoxicating lilac feed his senses, and he is drawn into it's hold.

She is there. Eloquent in classical dress, black tailored heels placed neatly beneath her as she kneels on the floor, head lowered. Her long tresses fanning across her back, occasionally waving in tune to the breeze upon them, from the open window in front of her. He walks forward, gently running his hand along her mane, his fingers, entwining themselves in it's masses, and he feels her shiver beneath his touch . He takes a single step forward, grasping more of it's thickness beneath his hand, and a firm yet gentle grip, forces her eyes to meet his.

He sees not fear among them. Something else. A quiet strength, a mystery of power, secure in her worth, yet that tinge of fear that he senses from within her, is much stronger than her eyes truly display. He watches as her eyes flicker, struggling to combat her emotions, fighting to regain some semblance of control within herself, and he knows in that instant , what it is that he wants.

She feels his touch upon her head, gentle, but at the same time fierce and sure in its movements to have her eyes meet his. Not knowing this man makes her vulnerabilities surface rapidly, and at the same time cause wetness beneath her thighs as she thinks about possibilities that had remained buried as dark images within her psyche. She senses his strength, shivers as his hand tightens around her locks, triggering something within her. Her heart pounds rapidly, yet her breathing, mysteriously calms.

He releases his hold. Casually stepping back to appreciate the view. Except for one thing. A few too many pieces of clothing. " Strip for me", he demands. He watches, leaning a shoulder against the wall in comfort, as she rises to her feet.

Her cheeks blush a pale rose, and she glances down at the front of her dress , wondering how shaking fingers will be able to maneuver the row of countless buttons on the dress she wears. Her fingers reach for the hem of her skirt. "Start at the top" he instructs. And she hesitantly follows his lead and reaches for the top button. One by one she manages to get a few undone, until her breasts are hidden only by the fact that she remains standing erect. He walks casually over to her, stopping to trace a single finger from her neck to the open cleavage. A soft kiss on her cheek, a whisper in her ear.

She nods and moves her hand down to the hem of her skirt once again. As the buttons come away, so does the fabric at her breasts, as she bends to complete her task, until only several at her midriff are left. He stays her hand, making her look up questioningly into his eyes.

"The sight of your bounty is pleasurable indeed, my dear, however, my fingers now wish to complete the task for you". She gasps as the touch of callused fingers connects between her breasts, gently prodding them with his knuckles, as his fingers release the rest of the buttons. The dress falls drops to the floor.

Clad only in garters and stockings she stands before him, unsure of whether its the cool wind which sends bumps along her flesh or the power of his presence. She grows very wet thinking about the possibilities of what can occur, mixed with that bit of fear in the unknowing.

He walks around her, inspecting his prize. A touch there, a look here, hearing her breathing growing more shallow with every second, as what seems like endless minutes to her, tick away.

His hands reach up, barely grazing a nipple with his fingertips. He feels her shudder , as her eyes close of their own accord. He takes her hair into his fist once more, wrapping it twice around his hand. "Look at me", he insists. She swallows hard, compelling her eyes to gaze within the depths of his own. His hand at her nipple never wavers, as he forces her to hold his gaze while he watches the havoc his play is having from within them. "Mirrors of the soul", he acknowledges. "One can see within it, every wish, every fear, every fight for sanity." His hand continues its onslaught. Pulling hard at the now erect nipple. "DON'T break eye contact" he warns, and with eyes still staring deep into her own, lowers his head to feed upon the untouched breast.

She can barely stand it. Her pussy, pounding angrily in want, her eyes yearning to look away, to be able to think of anything but the onslaught he is causing of both her body and its emotions. His teeth bite hard, sending a gasp from her lips, feeling both that pain, and that of his hand demanding the same on its counterpart. A few tears reach into her eyes, but it is not sadness that she feels. A low moan escapes her lips. He smiles.

Still holding contact with her eyes, he replaces his tongue with the other hand, each nipple firmly held in his grip. "What is it you want, my slave ? " He asks. She shakes her head, unable to speak, unable to comprehend her own thoughts. "Then i will chose for you", he says. The pull of her breasts grow firmer,, more painful, as he pulls her down by her nipples, sending her to her knees. "Eye contract" he warns, as her gaze strays. " I won't warn you again" .

The throb of her nipples now bearable, she looks up trying to read his thoughts. "Pleasure me" he simply says. And a knowing smile reaches her lips as her hands roam blindly to his pants. A bit more difficult without the use of her eyes, but she manages quite well. Her hands slip against his flesh, the shock of male hardness barely contained sending pulsating warmth beneath her thighs once again.

His fingers stroke her nipples. Hard,, soft,, Her fingers grasp around his cock. Hard, soft. Not forgetting to keep contact with his eyes, her tongue finds the tip of it's head. He watches the pleasure spring from beneath her eyes, as he feels his own. She taunts him with her tongue, driving him crazy, as she slides him slowly into her mouth. "Tease" he says. " That can be handled easily enough ". Before she can think about the words, she finds her hair, grasped firmly once again, this time, forcing her head against his groin. His cock, deep within her throat, and she shifts, trying hard to hold it, as he fucks her mouth with his member. Hard, fierce. The very thought sending her wetness running down her thighs. He pulls his cock out of her mouth quickly.. forcing her again to look at him. "I will ask again, slave. What is it you want? "

She shudders. Unable to communicate her needs. His hand drags her to her feet, his other finding its way between her legs, exploring its wetness with 3 well placed fingers. She almost loses it . "You, Sir" she whispers". "This ? " he asks as he finger fucks her ferociously. He watches her eyes cloud over with the intensity of the orgasm building within her, then quickly withdraws them as he senses she's close. She screams in frustration. Angry eyes begging into his own. A few objects catch his attention. And he moves her far enough over to the bed where he can reach them. The dildo is a nice size, fitting his hand perfectly. He taunts her lips with it, wetting it immediately. "This? " he questions. Her breath grows ragged and she shakes her head. He smiles, slowly pushing it within the depths of her cavern. Slowly. Ever so slowly. In. Out.. In.. Out.. She struggles for words. Wanting his cock driven deeply within her. Toys can do no justice to real yearnings. "Or this? " he suggests, while rapidly pumping it into her. She reaches her breaking point, the intenseness of her orgasm not only pushing the toy from within her, but her moan turning into a screaming wail. She gasps for breath, unable to maintain the eye contract that he demanded. Her muscles finally relax, although she is left shaken with it's aftermath.

"Stand up, slave" he insists, while picking up the belt from the bed and holding it in his hand. "Against the wall". She sighs in compliance and slowly makes her way to the wall on weakened legs.

The crack of the belt against her ass is intense. But then, she knew this man was no fool. She moans with pain, each sting on her reddened flesh a bit more pronounced with every stroke. He stops. She turns around, grateful for the release, and he smiles . "I'm not done yet, pet", he answers. Her eyes grow wide as he hold the dildo within his other hand. The belt, sliding along her flesh as a reminder as he uses that hand to place her back against the wall. His booted feet, kick her legs out a bit more, spreading them wider. He slides the dildo once again into her tight waiting pussy. "Hold it there" he says. "And i want you to use your remaining fingers to stimulate your clit while you do".

"Yes, Sir" she softly replies. Face against the wall, she obeys. The first stroke was unexpected. The sting, once again on her ass, driving the dildo deep into her as she clenches her cheeks. Each stroke of the belt, making the toy rub deeply against throbbing inner walls. Her sense of touch grows confused. Her fingers against her clit, the dildo, deep within her, and the leather against her flesh. Another orgasm builds, and she screams with want.

"I ask you once more. What do you want, my slave? "
She screams out in frustration. "For you to fuck me with your cock, deep and hard, Sir". She barely gets the last word out before finding her yanked to the bed, her legs over each of his shoulders. One deep sure thrust finds her convulsing around him once more.

He, on the other hand, was just beginning.

Her moans of pleasure almost drove him crazy.

"She's a good match for me," he thinks, as she meets him thrust for thrust, her hands pushing hard against the headboard, giving her leverage as his cock drove hard into her.

"Damn," he utters under his breath, losing his load sooner than he would have liked to, but the feel of her around him was more than he could take at the moment.

He wraps her in his arms, caressing her hair and cheek until their racing hearts subsided. The silence of the room was broken only by the call of the birds outside their window. And in that silence, he felt a recognition of something which had been missing from his life for a very long time.

"But what if this is only a trick?" his mind contests. "It's too coincidental. She was too easy to find and just a bit too perfect a match for his insatiable and sometimes kinky habits."

He looks down at the figure beside him, now sleeping lightly. His decision is made. He rises slowly, donning his clothes, and quietly tiptoes out the door, not seeing the single tear which trailed down her fair cheek. She'd known many of the same pattern. And although hardened to the life she had chosen as a courtesan, had been hopeful that this one, was different.

The key was burning in his pocket. His hand reached in, feeling the metal against his skin. Was it angry or just leading him onward?

His eyes wandered down the hallway. He turns south, meandering past a parlor, filled with sunlight and warmth, yet no one was there to greet him. He walks in, sitting on the overstuffed couch. Above the fireplace mantle hangs a picture of a woman. "The ghost of my key," he reasons. "Damn you, damn your key, and damn that girl who stole my heart" he whispers to it. The picture smiled back at him, saying nothing, but the eyes told another story.

He rises, tossing the key beside the picture as he gives it one final evil look as he departs. "Give your key to another sucker, " I don't believe in luck or magic. He stalks off, finding the nearest door, yanking it open with force, only to find someone within.

 

[silken_mystery]

OB the temptress

~The Temptress~

She looks up, eyes brazen and staring straight into his. "You want me?" she asks? He is shocked by her demeanor, preferring more a more docile woman for his companionship. She walks up to him, wasting no time as she expertly slides roaming hands along his thigh, teasing, taunting. He shrugs her off, taking a few steps away from her out of reach, towards the bed. A catlike smile spreads across her face, and before he can realize what she is doing, she topples him to the bed, straddling his thighs. Her hands make quick work, sliding into his now open jeans with ease. "Wait a minute," he demands. "THIS is not what I want."

"No? " she questions before his cock is buried deep within her throat.

"Christ," he mutters, trying to get the image of the slave out of his mind. Willing or not, his cock hardens under her nimble tongue. His mood is fierce, still angry at the key and it's ghost. Still unwilling to admit that he'd found perfection the first time. He grabs hold of the temptress by the hair, pulling her away from his member. Her Cheshire cat smile is still in place, as she forcibly slides her already wet pussy down onto his cock. "Who is fucking who" he thinks. He feels cheapened by the encounter. The minutes, become hours as his body denies his mind's request to just walk away. He lets her have her way, riding hard on top of him, until a weak orgasm manages to surface.

He shrugs her off, saying nothing as he once again dons his clothing, and leaves the room. Finding an exit at the end of the hallway, he lets himself out, slamming the door behind him.

"Thank God, " he says, as he looks for his car. His hands grope for his keys, and as he makes contact with them, he is once again reminded of the Oriental Box, the key, and the Ghost.

 

[silken_mystery]

OB the morning after

~THE MORNING AFTER ~

He'd not slept well, tossing and turning, every image that of the willing slave. He could see her in his dreams, taste her on his tongue, and feel her caress every time the wind blew it's warm summer air upon his sleeping frame.

The long, sleepness night gave him time to think. "Ironic," he thought. "I'm in love with a hooker." The argument didn't matter. He wanted only her.

Resigned to go and talk to her, he dressed in fresh jeans and a denim shirt. The short ride back to the house, gave him little time to debate the situation. He knocked on the door, impatiently waiting as it was opened. He looks at the woman who had let him in the first time, not saying a word to her as he brushes by and walks down the hallway to where the slave was. He passes a door, lingering for a brief moment as memories of a carved, old wooden box assault his memory, before heading towards the door he wanted.

It was early, he expected she'd be alone. Perhaps still sleeping. He turned the knob, yet it was locked beneath his hand. He knocked, no one answered. He turns back, to find the woman who let him in. She was no where to be found, nor was anyone else. He wandered the house, finding only locked doors, with no one to answer.

His trek finds him once again in the parlor. Looking up at the picture of the woman, he seeks the key he had carelessly tossed in her face on the mantle.

Gone.

"It's a trick," he thinks. Turning back towards the hallway and finding the room with the Oriental Box. This door opens beneath his hand. Approaching warily, he looks upon the now familiar room. The old, worn, rocking chair, still there. He looks around the room for the Box. Sure enough, it sits, patiently waiting for it's next victim on the table, 2 keys nearby. He knows the one that opens it, and therefore takes the shinier key, feeling its warmth in it's hand as he did before.

Returning to the slave's door, he unlocks it, and steps inside. He hears singing coming from the bathroom, it's melody soothing his senses, and he smiles. Stepping into the room, he meets her eyes, as she raises them questioningly to his. His words are simple. "You're mine," he states. "Will you share your life with me?"

The smile on her face was all he needed to see. And as they left the room, he turned to lock the door behind him with the key. Only this time, it is no longer unnotched. A single groove now etched into the metal.

He smiles. "What are you thinking?" she asks him.

He recalls the words of the ghost.. "The key you hold within your hand, is unworn for good reason. Keep it with you. It's tumblers shall be carved as you behold each wonder in life."

"Just something I knew all along," he answers her, smiling, as he takes her by the hand.


~Tomorrow~

In the quiet of a small room, at the edge of town, stands an Oriental Box. Within it, memories of age old visions, lie waiting to be discovered once again. Beside it, 2 keys -- one old, and worn, the other bright and new, remain.

 

[Whispersecret]

Er, Silken, as I said on your other thread, welcome to the board. You seem to be new to these parts, so I'll let you in on something. Usually we don't post chapters of our stuff here if we want feedback. Here's how it usually goes:

1. People submit their stories to the site.
2. They wait for them to be posted.
3. They then come here and post a link so that people can go to the story themselves and then come back and comment.

Just thought you might like to be aware of the routine here. No harm done.

 

[sirhugs]

First Time!

Is it appropriate or ironic that I chose this story for my first feedback post ?

If the feedback sucks, its because I'm a virgin, and no expert myself.

I enjoyed the story very much. you might compare it to my First Time story, " After Hours Adventure"

http://www.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=60908

About all they have in common, other than the category, is that the protagonists end up as technical virgins still. Well, and we both feature aggressive female characters.

I tried hard not to be a typical "male" stereotype of lust run amok, and used extra ( too many?) adjectives, and dealt, I hope, with the psychodrama of the scene. I tried to make the sex "payoff" almost incidental. I had the sense you tried just as hard to be "tough" , and not typically female. I liked that. However, I felt a bit cheated on the lack of emotional content or context. I think the psychology of the deflowered virgin is the crux of a good First Time story.

Your sex scene, although hot, was too incidental. If I was reading for relief ( euphemism for masturbating), the first two thirds got me hot , but the payoff was too abrupt.

I found your tendency to run on sentences made the story hard to follow, and the use of ... suggested that you needed another rewrite to polish the structure of those passages.

Bottom line, I liked it, it was sexy, I would read part 2.

Shall I read another and comment, or am I full of shit?

 

[ladyphoenix]

silken_mystery's "Captured Heart"

Okay Darlin, you asked for some feedback.

Paragraph 1: I understood your use of the :: :: only after trudging through the first few paragraphs; it was just gimmicky and distracted from the story. No punctuation here?

Para. 2: I see how paragraphs 1 and 3 follow one another, but this is the start of her POV (at least I think it’s her POV; this is confusing as well) and it has no logical start. For Paras. 1 and 3 you have: “He paid....then opened the flap...” which makes sense. In para. 2 all you start with is “:aused with the exchange of coin...” Perhaps you should have said, “She paused at the exchange of coin...” to make the transition more easily understood.
This paragraph is an odd contrast of nice images (“the velvet muscle of her tongue”; “devious little piercing”) but it makes absolutely no sense. Here is your paragraph:
:aused with the exchange of coin... [no subject in this sentence; it’s a fragment] the velvet muscle of her tongue flicked out against pouty lips [okay, to this point you’re making sense] faint gleam seen that devious little piercing there as well she awaited muscles shivered anticipation to follow:: [all of that is gibberish]

Perhaps you meant, “She paused at the exchange of coin, the velvet muscle of her tongue flicking out over pouting lips. She waited, muscles shivering in anticipation.” I honestly couldn’t make heads or tails out of “faint gleam seen that devious little piercing there as well”.

Para. 3: This back and forth, his POV; her POV every paragraph would work MUCH better if you at least started at the beginning of thoughts, rather than starting a thought in one, following with someone else’s POV, then going back to finish the thought.
“opned” should be “opened”
“...grabbed eve tossing her” should be “...grabbed Eve, tossing her...” (I understand the use of eve instead of Eve, because she’s a slave,, so that’s a personal call, but it needs the comma)
“implemts” is “implements”

I’ll be honest. The subsequent paragraphs are an echo of paragraph 2. Some very nice, really erotic and vivid images (“the cage of lashes”; “scent of spiced lure”; “a tickle and a slick slide”, etc.). However, in the end, there are so many misspellings and weird sentences, fragments and just plain confusing things that it isn’t a story at all. It seems more like a Picasso painting in words. Unfortunately, the genre doesn’t support the images in the same way. You can’t tear up words this much and expect anyone to get much from it. I ended up wondering if you were drunk when you typed it, or at the very least high on cold medicine. It could have been a fantastic story.
I would like to know whether you are pleased with the way it is presented here on Lit, or if they made some terrible mistakes when posting it, or if your confusing gibberish was supposed to be purposeful. In the end, I was disappointed because I think you have some incredible talent. I walked away wondering what happened here.

Best,
ladyp

 

[ladyphoenix]

The above critique

I have absolutely NO idea why the frogs are in there. sorry.

ladyp

 

[sirhugs]

Re: The above critique

I have absolutely NO idea why the frogs are in there. sorry.

ladyp

perhaps if you kiss them, they'll turn into princes?

 

[silken_mystery]

Re: Re: The above critique

perhaps if you kiss them, they'll turn into princes?

Lol funny SirHugs

Thanks Ladyp for the feedback