I’ve been mulling and poking at some stories of late … none of which are anything near to being finished. Overall, that’s due to a lack of time on my part, a somewhat lost direction in writing and … well, we’ll see. Among my writings, there are stories of passion, stories of seduction, stories of battle, and there is the occasional story of someone being …
Amused
By TeraS
He had power.
The power came from his status, his place in the world and, of course, his masculinity, lorded over all that were beneath him. Even his name reflected power, which only added more drive to his behaviour to others. But the thing about having power is that there is always someone who had more power … and, if one happened to attract the attention of such a someone, for the wrong reasons … well … things happen, don’t they? Still, being in a position of power meant that others would come to him, ask for certain things, and he, of course, would expect certain favours in return. He always got what was coming to him.
The knock at his office door roused him from his thoughts.
“Yes?”
He caught his breath as a blonde vision of femininity with deep, green eyes stepped through the door, her red dress flowing with a current all its own about her long, tanned legs. After taking two steps, she offered her hand: “Good afternoon, Mr. Thompson. I’m from Realm Enterprises. We have a two o’clock?”
There was no question as his shaft hardened, his eyes undressing her: he was going to have her. The decision to treat her as just another conquest was instinctive. His cock ached with the vision of her pressed against the wall while he thrusted over and over until she screamed.
The snapping of her fingers an inch from his eyes roused him from of his daydream. Putting a mask of indifference to her action, he asked: “You are?”
The desk was between them as she replied: “I’m here at the request of a client to discuss certain matters with you.”
It didn’t register that she’d not given her name. She’d put him off his game, and he needed to take control: “I see.”
Her lips which he really wanted to see wrapped around a now very stiff part of his anatomy, were instead wrapped into a frustratingly smug but undeniably attractive smile: “Really?” She turned and made her way around the desk, trailing a green-tipped finger over the polished surface: “Then you are aware of the … terms … of the contract you signed?”
Her profile made it clear how shapely she was. Her sexuality was permeating the space around her, and his eyes were unable to leave her. He managed not to growl: “I’m aware.”
She stopped to his right, spinning his chair towards her and laughed: “Oh … you aren’t. You … really … aren’t.”
He’d always been the one to take control before, and it was a surprise when she drew her emerald talons along his length, making him gasp in unexpected need. Somehow, she’d wrapped her hand around his heated member and started to tease his tortured length. Closing his eyes, he murmured at a question he’d barely heard: “Oh … yes …”
Her hand pulled sharply, forcing him to look up into a pair of gleaming, green eyes, seemingly alight with amusement. “Oh, my dear Samson.” How did she know his name? “Have you never learned the story behind your name? About the foolish man who lost control at the hands of a mere woman?” As she tossed her hair, her smile was devilishly amused by his plight, and he startled at the two small, green horns that suddenly appeared at her temples. “But she was no mere mortal woman. No mortal could, after all, overcome the power your namesake had.”
Her hand stroked his shaft as she straddled him, and she was rubbing the now unbearably sensitive tip against her wet folds: “Like every Samson since, you believed that your power was …” Her hand moved slickly over his purple head and reddening shaft, “… right … here. That every woman would fall to her knees for … this.”
The long, green, spaded tail that rose behind her was met with an anguished gasp—whether that was from realizing she wasn’t who she appeared to be or from the feeling of her warm wetness encompassing his purple crown would never be known. “You will to learn that this …” she lowered herself, taking more and more as she continued to gloat “… is a leash and you will … mmm … obey your Mistress. You were mine the moment you laid eyes upon me. From your soul to your cock, I own …” the shock of the blonde seductress taking his entire length suddenly caused his back to arch and his arms to grip tightly at the chair’s armrests as she purred, licking a pink tongue over cherry-red lips “… you.”
There was no escape as she began to ride him. Her nails left angry red marks on his chest as she marked him. The gleam in her eyes now darkened, matching the thoughts she continued to share. A terrible laugh foretold of her intentions: how she would bind him, mark him as simple property, to be used as she saw fit.
As he thrashed his head, his long hair moved wildly, taking her visage from sight for a moment before her smile burrowed its way deeper into his soul. She came close again, her hips still pumping his shaft into her perfect sex, his thoughts muddled by the approaching orgasm. A shadow passed between them, only a gleam from her luscious lips and emerald eyes left to capture his attention. “Just … another … plaything … Collared … bald … kneeling in submission … You won’t even remember … your … name.” If her laugh was dark, her giggle was both frightening and, impossibly, making him harder still, his hips driving upwards to meet her undulations upon him. A hand tipped with long, green nails took hold of his chin. He needed to know, the thoughts struggled to come from his lips, but the gasps and groans left nothing to form actual words.
But … she knew. Since she’d walked in the door, she knew exactly what he was thinking. Blacking out as he came screaming was a mercy. He lied there, spent, and she allowed his depleted shaft to slip away as she raised her hips, falling with a wet slap as it came to rest. Stretching languidly, she sighed contentedly at the conquest slumped beneath her.
Nibbling on an emerald fingernail, she mused, her tail moving slowly as she looked upon the foolish mortal who thought he had power …
… and she smiled.
The knock on his office door roused him from a daydream that he couldn’t quite remember.
“Yes?”
He caught his breath as a blonde vision of femininity with deep, green eyes stepped through the door, her red dress flowing with a current all its own about her long, tanned legs. After taking two steps, she offered her hand: “Good afternoon, Mr. Thompson, I’m from Realm Enterprises. We have a two o’clock?”
For an instant the thought formed to treat her as just another conquest, his cock ached with the vision of her pressed against the wall, thrusting over and over until she screamed in …
… submission? He shook his head, incredulous at his own fantasy.
Crossing the office, he took her offered hand and lowered himself to kiss her flesh: “Please, call me Samson.”
She replied, with a purr of delight, “Delilah.”
He might actually have learned something this time.
And that amused her.
The Queen of the Succubi and a very hugglely one at that...
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