Tamara Never Cums

This is not my best story.  But, of my erotica, it has the best story about being written. 


A little over eleven years ago, I joined a mailing list. Soon after, a thread on the list began which discussed people's names, how they were often punned on, particularly if used in a song.  One of those people was the eponymous Tamara of this story, and after hearing the song they were discussing, got an idea for a story.  I asked her permission to write and publish that story, which she granted.


I published it to alt.sex.stories.moderated with no title, having a 'competition' of sorts to see if anyone could guess the title, which is a Vile Pun. I forget now who won, but it was a fun thing for myself, and for Tamara herself.  In months we had met, in a little over a year (just over 10 years ago now) she moved in with me, and we have been together since.


Thank you Tam, for all those years of inspiring me and being a perfect partner in my life.

Tamara Never Cums

MF Mdom bdsm Vile Puns

The music started again, and she knew it was going to start all
over soon.

Tamara sighed as small jets of cool air blew over her, drying the
sweat off her exposed skin, breasts and thighs. The mechanical
jets paid special attention to the wrist and ankle cuffs as well
as the leather corset that she wore. He didn't want them to
become too wet. He'd told her why, but now, after hours in the
machine, she couldn't remember.

The jets moved and focused in on her breasts and crotch. First
blowing a general, easy air; then focusing much more strongly.
Her nipples hardened under their ministrations. Then the one at
her crotch began to blow on her clit, sending pulses of pleasure
through her whole body.

The chains tightened as she writhed against them.

Ratings and Rantings

Of the two stories I published last week, Choices is by far my favorite of the two.  It's richer in terms of emotion, and in terms of provoking thought and response in the reader.  Nothing is a surer indicator than the overall stats of those stories on Stories OnLine.

Now, the tone and genre of the stories I write doesn't perfectly resonate with that of SoL.  So, while I'll have an occasional story which is liked by many of them, I doubt I'll ever be one of their pre-eminent writers. I'm not quite sure where my stories fit, but if I ever find a site that has the audience my stories want, I'll pay for a membership or three.

The stories that seem to have some popularity at SoL are Wife/Cuckold stories, BDSM stories, Harem stories and underage/incest stories.  Long adventure stories with harem themes seem really popular, and they often contain BDSM.  Also, there are several authors who do many short cuckold stories.  The underage/incest stories date back to the founding of SoL, when it was formed as a safe haven for that sort of story.

Choices

(MF Mdom wife)

Choices. So many choices, so many ways things could have worked out. But we make our choices, and we try to make good ones. And we take responsibility for our choices, too. Did my choices lead me inexorably to this point? Or was there an uncontrollable, unchosen outside force that got me here? Not that it really matters, because I choose, every day -- every minute of every day -- to live like this. Wasn't it Sartre who said that every day we make the choice to go on living, so we are responsible for the state of our lives -- after all we chose it, right?

Right now, even as I type these words, there is a woman under my desk. It's a big desk. I chose it because it was big. Not so I could get a woman underneath it, but for the desktop surface area. It just so happens that I can fit a woman underneath it. She's on her knees, of course. I gave her a pillow. Her mouth is around my cock, slowly sucking and nibbling to her heart's content. She's really good at it. Better than I ever knew in our twenty-two years together. The woman is my wife.

There have been lots of changes lately. I wasn't sure when it started. No, I do know - I just didn't know it at the time. The real changes started at least a year ago. I don't know how I missed it, but I did. I started noticing things when my sex life picked up six months ago, but didn't examine it too closely. I was too busy reveling in my good fortune to question its origins.

Of course, I didn't select her for her sexual prowess. She didn't choose me for that either. Believe it or not, we were both virgins when we met in college and our sex life was never what you'd call imaginative. The first time I saw her, I was attracted to her: a cute pert nose, long straight red hair, and long legs that went all the way up to her ass. She was wearing a pink tennis skirt which showed them off, and a white sleeveless shirt which clung to her breasts.

Unlike so many other college women who wore pants or jeans, Mary liked to dress well. Imagine my surprise when I discovered she was actually intelligent. We were in a philosophy class together -- she was actually a philosophy major, of all things. I wound up taking a lot of philosophy classes for my remaining two years of college.

After graduation, I asked her to marry me. She said yes and dropped out of school. A year later, Jenny was born. Two years later, Tom followed her. Tom started college last fall.. I think that's why I didn't notice the change in our sex life: I figured it was just an outgrowth of finally being alone in the house again, a hearken back to the old days when we did it more than once a week, or once every two. Or maybe that the exercise program she'd started several months earlier was finally paying of in other dividends.

It still wasn't anything special. Missionary position, or, ironically, the female superior position. The thing about sex for us was the connection. At least for me anyway, then. The connection with the woman I loved. Looking into her eyes, touching her, caressing her. That two- way exchange of caring that expressed our love. It didn't have to be 'hot and sweaty sex'. We made love.

Things are slightly different, now. I have to wonder if I was the only one who saw our sex lives that way. Why did she wait so long to tell me? Or, did I, happy with the status quo, choose to ignore her signals? I'll probably never know.

She's sucking really hard now. It's almost hard to concentrate. She's holding herself up with one hand, and the other is fondling my balls as her head bobs up and down on my shaft. It's fucking amazing. He taught her well.

Yes, HIM, that uncontrollable outside force that has, like a tornado, blown through my life, turning everything upside down and inside out. Only it wasn't a tornado. It wasn't fast and sudden. It was more like the ocean breeze that molds the sand into dunes: inexorable, insistent, but so gradual you don't even see the changes.

It was him that started the exercise program. It was him that urged her to increase her sexual activity with me. It was him doing all of that, behind the scenes, until that fateful day a few weeks ago when it was all presented to me, the deal all closed, with only one loose end. I had only one choice left to make, and I keep making it every minute of every hour of every day since.

I had just gotten back from helping Jenny move out of the school dorms into her own apartment. She would be spending the summer in Raleigh -- finally really moving out -- and she needed her dad's SUV to move all her stuff. I gladly volunteered, and spent the weekend helping her move, and meeting her friends and roommates. Tom was still in school for a few more weeks, so we'd have to do it all over again then, only he'd be moving home.

I drove back Sunday afternoon, taking my time. I had slept well that night, and had almost slept over the hotel's checkout time I was so tired. But I was well rested, and looking forward to getting back to Charlotte, and my wife. I still had no clue what was going on.

I should have had some sort of clue when Mary met me at the door, wearing only a sheet wrapped loosely around her body. I asked her, "What?" but she stopped me with a finger on my lips and slight smile on her face. She dropped to her knees in front of me, still holding the sheet around her, and pulled my cock out of my pants. It was only the second blowjob she'd ever given me.

The first was while we were still in college. She thought she'd try it as an alternative to using condoms. We were cheap college students and these were the days before college campuses were giving them away. We wanted sex, but we wanted neither the consequences of sex nor the cost of birth control. But after that first attempt, Mary found the money for condoms. It was always nice inside her pussy anyway, warm, inviting, wet. Even after 22 years I never got enough of it. Now I satisfy myself with the other options.

And one can really become a connoisseur of the "other options" You can be sucked by the mouth, and then there's the tongue. And her ass...tight all the time in a way her cunt hadn't been since Jenny was born. Not that I have much choice in the matter.

But I'm rambling. Where was I? Oh yes, Mary on her knees in front of me, naked as the day she was born, her mouth hot and wet around my cock. My first blowjob in 23 years, and it was a damn fine one, too. I wanted to talk to her, but she motioned for me to be quiet, and kept sucking. Eventually I came in her mouth, and she swallowed it all, and then cleaned my cock off with her mouth.

That just got me hard again.

So she led me upstairs into our bedroom, stripped my clothes off. I was hot and I wanted to be inside her, even though I had just come. I reached for the sheet, to take it off, but she shook her head. "What?" I asked incredulous. "Honey, take off the sheet, I want to make love to you." She shuddered then, and let the sheet drop. And I saw.

"You pierced your nipples?" I exclaimed. That was something the youngsters did. But still, I could feel the blood flow down to my twitching penis. It was hot. I reached for them, and her hands came up.

"No," she said. "They are too tender to touch right now."

"OK," I said. "But damn, they are hot. I need you now, lie down so we can make love."

She looked down at my feet. then back up at me. "I...I want you to fuck me in the ass," she said. I stared at her incredulously. She wanted me to fuck her where? Then she turned and got on her knees on the bed in front of me, and I saw the reason why.

Six, no seven new piercings. One just over her clit, the other six down her labia, three on each side. And a bar running through it. And it was locked on! Locked! There was no way I could get inside her pussy. "What is going on here?" I said, backing up, confused.

"Please John, just fuck me in the ass, and I'll explain it. There's lube by the bed." I looked, and there was lube on the nightstand. I took it, lubed up my cock, now hard and straining as it hadn't since I was in college. I needed to know what was going on, but I needed to fuck her more. Then I lubed up her asshole, and slid into her ass, something I had never done before.

And God she was tight. Tight like I'd never felt her before. I slid in and out of her, slowly, then faster and faster as the lube spread up and down my cock and the inside of her ass. My mind was lost to the lust of my wife, my sweet gentle wife who was now practically a pincushion. Not that I thought about it then, of course. I was too tied up in my cock and what it was doing, feeling my balls slap against her ass as she moaned and sighed beneath me. So, despite all the signs, I still allowed myself to think that my wife had done all of this for me, for our sex life.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

After I came in her, and pulled out, my cock covered with lube and her goo, Mary got up, went to the bathroom, and then came back out with a towel, and washed me off. She curled up next to me, and I looked at her. "That was amazing."

"Yes," she said, quietly. "It is amazing." Almost whispering. She was quiet for a moment. "Now comes the hard part. You need to watch this." I saw that she had our bedroom remote, and she clicked the TV on. Then she slid down my legs and once again engulfed my cock with her mouth. It was limp, but her tongue began it's magic, slowly getting me hard again.

Then the tape in the VCR started to play.

On the screen I saw a man's face, covered by a domino mask. The camera pulled back, revealing a man with brown hair, a little gray at the temples, but otherwise in good shape. Without a shirt on. In one hand he held the remote for the camera, and was thumbing it. As he zoomed the camera back, I saw his other hand, wrapped in my wife's hair, moving her head up and down his cock. She was moaning.

He stopped for a moment, and Mary kept moving of her own accord. He looked into the screen. "Hello John," he said. I looked down at Mary, her head moving up and down my cock, and then back up at the TV, and saw the same thing, only she was with a different man.

What the hell was going on?

The voice continued. "I made this tape out of fairness to you, since you are greatly wronged by this. I only recently discovered that my pet had never explicitly asked you for this, although she seemed certain you knew how she felt."

"No," I muttered, "I never knew.." Hearing that, Mary whimpered around my cock.

"I had been making tapes -- for my own collection -- but I thought you should know the full depth of your wife's depravity and betrayal. And betrayal it was. We met online over a year ago, and I put her off, not meeting for six months. Then three more months before we had sex. Then still three more months before I made her mine.

"But not fully mine. There is another man she owed her allegiance to." His eyes, a deep blue, looked straight into the camera, straight into my soul. "I took her anyway. But not completely. You still have a choice."

The video faded away, and was replaced by an image of the same man, still in a mask, beating my wife with a flogger. "I had to be careful," he said. "I left no marks on her skin, except for an occasional, accidental bruise. No piercings, no tattoos, no scars. I wouldn't do that until she was fully mine."

Again the screen faded, and was replaced by him sliding in and out of my wife's ass. The video camera moved -- there had to be someone there, filming it -- until I could see my wife's face as she begged and pleaded for him to fuck her harder. "I took her every way I could, and she begged for more. I took her anal virginity." The camera faded, and she was giving him head. "I taught her how to give a good blowjob." The camera faded again, and he was fucking her pussy, while she was tied spread- eagled on the bed. "I taught her how to squeeze a man's cock with her pussy. How to please him even if she is tied tight."

The camera returned to the original shot.. "You are the benefactor of that knowledge. Well, you'll never use her pussy again. I hold the key." He brought the key up, and dangled it in front of the camera. "But her oral and anal skills are excellent. And she enjoys it."

"Tell him, pet, tell him how much you enjoy being degraded like this."

Mary on camera and live, both stopped, and said the same thing. "I love it. Fuck me, treat my like the whore I am. Take me in the ass, fuck my mouth. Do whatever you want to me and I'll do it."

"And..." the man on the screen said.

"And I'll come."

He laughed. Mary returned her mouth to my cock. I felt a tear fall and hit my thigh.

"She's such a slut, isn't she? And she's mine. I'm not even there, and she still did what I said, didn't she?" He laughed again, and then leaned into the camera. He spoke again, conspiratorially, "When I'm not using her, you can have her mouth and ass. I couldn't bring myself to take her completely away from you. Or you can use this tape to get a complete no- strings-attached divorce from your wife. She won't even get the house, because she'll come to be with me. It's your choice."

The screen went dead. I sat there, as my wife, his pet, kept sucking on my cock. The VCR played out and rewound, and still I sat there. My wife was a slut, and a whore, and some other man's pet. She had cheated on me for months, and never said a damn thing. Then she had allowed this-- this other person-- to alter her body and mind, how could she do such a thing?

My rage built. I grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth, holding her head as I did it, so that she couldn't move. I could hear her gag as my third orgasm of the day shot down her mouth. I pushed her off my cock, and got onto the bed. She was audibly sobbing now. "What did you expect Mary? Hell, you even like it."

She sobbed louder, and collapsed on the floor. I curled up in the bed, and went to sleep.

I awoke the next morning, not to my alarm, but to her mouth on my cock. It was a really nice way to wake up, but when I realized what was going on, the memories from the previous night flooded back into me. I pulled away. "What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Master likes me to wake him up this way," she said. "I thought you might as well."

"Who is this guy who has done this to you? What have you become?"

"He's Master." she said, as if that explained everything. "I am his slut, his slave, his pet. Everything I do, I do for him."

"Including what you do for me?"

She was silent, and then looked down at the floor.

I put my hands around her face, lifting her eyes to mine. "Mary, Mary, where are you? Where is my wife of these many years? Come back to me."

"She..she can't," came the whispered reply.

"Why not?"

"She's gone." I let my hands fall, and her face looked back down at the floor.

"Dammit, Mary. Give up on this. You're still alive, you still have choices. We can work on this!"

"No, I don't have any choices."

"Of course you do, everyone has choices!"

"Not for me. I didn't choose this. He made me like this. I can't choose to stop unless he releases me."

"Nothing is holding, except your own choice." I railed at her. She just sat there looking at the ground, denying that it was ever any different.

I gave up, showered, and went to work. I tried to shut it out of my mind, but I couldn't. Finally I decided on a course of action. I had to push her. To force her to back out of this plan. I wasn't going to let her go, to lose her in body as well as in spirit. Eventually this would pass, and she'd come back to me. She had to.

So I began my program of abuse. I used her, as much as I could. I slapped her face with my cock, fresh from fucking her ass. I took her whenever I felt like. I beat her, I pushed her. I treated her like the object she said she was.

He takes her most weekends, and occasionally for a week at a time, but most of the time, she is with me. And every moment when she is with me, she is my servant. She cooks, she cleans, she is my sexual slave. And never a word of complaint.

And my secret shame is that I enjoy it.

Had she really asked me many months, years ago to do this for her? Had I ignored it? Or had I just not heard it? Even so, could I have stood what it would have made out of me? What it is making out of me now?

I should let her go. Let her go to him. My wife is long gone, and what remains is someone, something much less. And it lessens me.

But there's always the hope that she'll finally come back.

And so I make my choice, every minute of every day.

And, God help me, the sex really is good.

Something About Him

(MF Mdom Rom)

There was something about him. I knew it the moment I saw him, but I wasn't sure what it was. Some would have said it was his looks. His hair was short and black, his eyes were a dark, dark brown and his skin was just the healthy side of pale. He wore a tight black T-shirt and leather pants which stretched over his body and displayed what lay underneath. He was leaning forward, chin in hand, a serious expression on his face.

And maybe that was it. He could have been lost in concentration or just waiting for lunch, but he did it with a sense of purpose. I felt that he knew what he was doing, why he was doing it, and what he was trying to accomplish. And there was something attractive about that.

So, while I had come to the restaurant to get some lunch, I found myself walking over to him. I was going to say, "Hi," and introduce myself. Maybe get his name and give him my phone number. If I was lucky, maybe he would even call me back.

When I got to his table, he was still as a statue. I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but before I could speak, he said, "What?" Just that, nothing else. I paused at his apparent irritation, uncertain what to say. My words fled as I stood there, silent.

But there was still something about him. His voice was deep and resonant; his single-word question wasn't mockery or sarcastic. Yet it demanded an answer. "Wh-what do you mean?" I stammered, confused, trying to regain my mental faculties.

He turned and looked at me for the first time. His gaze met mine, then lowered as he examined my body, appraising me. His eyes met mine again, and he asked, "What do you want?" Again his gaze traveled over me. I could feel it as it caressed my breasts, slid over legs, and finally, pierced me between my thighs. What was it about this man?

"You don't know?" He asked almost mockingly. "You walked over here to speak to me and you don't know why? Is this a common problem? Do you know what you want about anything? How about your job? Your life? Do you want the nice little husband and the two-point-five kids, or do you want something else? Do you even know? Is that the real problem?" Again he wasn't mocking, it was almost as if he really wanted to know if it was true, did I know what I wanted. And, suddenly, I wasn't sure if I could tell him.

He asked me again, more forcefully this time, "What do you want?"

The question echoed inside of me. What did I want? Not what I had, certainly. A lousy job, a non-existent social life. I realized to my dismay that I had no idea what I wanted to fill my empty life with. "I don't know," I whispered, despairingly.

"Humph," he said, and turned back in his seat, resuming his previous posture. Ignoring me.

I returned to my seat, and collapsed in my chair. My salad arrived, and I ate it slowly, ponderously. I tried to think about what I wanted, but all I could focus on was what I didn't have -- like him, for instance.

Occasionally, I'd glance up at him, but he was always in the same position. When his food arrived, he at it quickly and deliberately, and left. I finished a few minutes later, and went back to my worthless job.

That night, I masturbated for over two hours. I wasn't horny, I was empty. I had to keep the loneliness away. It had been getting worse and worse lately, and today, with the man from the restaurant... Well, he figured prominently in my fantasies. He took me, lifting my legs up and back, pressing my body beneath him. He plunged his huge cock deep into my cunt, over and over, all the while staring at me with his intense gaze, boring into my soul.

And in my fantasy, for just a moment, I knew that finally, I wasn't alone.

I came again and again, over and over, until I fell asleep, exhausted, my hand still pressed against my crotch.

That was the first day I saw him.

---

I woke to the incessant buzzer of my alarm the next morning. After all the activity of the last night, I had a deep and dreamless sleep. My body and mind resisted the need to rise, to get ready to go to work. To get on with my lousy life.

I thought back to the night before, and felt the emptiness creep in again, and I brushed my hand over my bush, idly opening my pussy lips. It sent a small shock through my inner void, and I shook my head. I had to get up, I couldn't lay here all day and play with myself. But the image of him lingered in my mind, his gaze piercing me at lunch, his cock piercing me in my fantasies. My cunt clenched, and I forced myself out of bed.

Robotically, I prepared for my day, until I got to selecting my clothes. I pulled out a low-cut blouse, and wondered if he'd appreciate the view in that one. That was when I realized I was planning on eating at the same restaurant again today. That was when I realized how bound up in his web I'd become.

Did he do anything to deserve my confusion or my passion? Or did he just stumble over some trigger, some thing lying dormant in me that realized that something, anything had to change. Maybe he was just the most convenient target; maybe anything that set me off kilter would have caused this. But I couldn't shake it: there was something about him.

So I dressed in my most revealing business clothes, and went to work. I don't want to say much about it, it was Hell just like always. The only thing that got me through the stupid meetings and tasks of the morning was thinking about him, being at the restaurant today. I didn't allow myself to consider the most likely prospect: that he wouldn't be there at all.

So at lunch, I left my desk a few minutes early, primped a bit in the ladies' room, and walked to the restaurant. I sat at the same table I was at the day before, ordered the same thing, and waited.

And, of course, he didn't come. With each second that ticked, each minute that passed, the emptiness inside me grew and filled. When I had finished my salad, I stole back into a private stall in the ladies' room, lifted my skirt, and slid my hand inside the scoop-necked blouse. I cried, and masturbated, trying to remember my fantasies from the night before, unable to see his face above me, unable to feel his cock inside me.

I finally came, and with the infusion of endorphins, I collected myself. I washed my hands and fixed my makeup, paid, and left the restaurant, vowing never to return.

That night I flipped through my scrapbooks of a happier time. When I had thought I was in love, and he was in love with me. A time when I was excited about my new career, and we talked about settling down, buying a house and having children. The pictures ended far before the relationship did, before the reality hit home and my career turned out to be a dead-end road to nowhere, just like my barren womb.

What could I offer to a man, really? Alan obviously didn't think I could offer much, so he found his own way without me. And I was left here, at a dead end road, with no map to continue on. I wanted so desperately to be filled by something, a sense of purpose, a cock, even the impossible. I settled for cheap alternatives, and retired to my room with my largest dildo, to fuck myself into harsh oblivion for the second night in a row.

I masturbated for a long time, having small, yet ever-building orgasms. Eventually, my fantasies drifted again to the man from the restaurant. I imagined the dildo was his cock filling my cunt, moving slowly in and out, as he made love to me. My orgasm built, sending shudders throughout my body as I/he rammed the dildo/his cock into me. My cunt clenched, and I let out a piercing yell as I came.

Relaxed, I drifted off to heavy sleep.

---

Once again I woke to the screeching of my buzzer. I was rubbed raw, and the dildo lay between my legs, sticky with my own juices. "I've got to stop doing this," I said to myself, as I rubbed my eyes, trying to wake up and clear my head. It had been a long time since my head was clear, and I was truly awake.

As I sat at my kitchen table, sipping coffee, and looking back through those horrible photographs, I felt calm for the first time in a long time. I recalled my fantasies of the night before. It had been a long time since I had been passionate about anything, and there was something about him, something that scared and attracted me at the same time.

So, I went back to the restaurant, despite my vow from the previous day. I had to go, if only because it made my day different than all the ones before. Once again, I repeated the first day's tasks and timing as if it were a ritual to summon the mysterious man. I had a mission or an obsession, but I had something, and it was mine.

The minute I saw him, my nipples hardened as I recalled my nightly fantasies. He had returned -- I was surprised and elated. Now, I had to decide what to do. I had hoped he would return, but never really believed that our chance meeting would happen again. I could stay here with my salad, or I could go back to him, and talk to him.

Finally I realized there was no point to all of this if I didn't talk to him. Resolved, I stood up, my knees a little shaky. I gathered myself together, and walked over to his table with a purpose. As I walked, he turned to face me. When I got close to him, he said, "So, did you ever decide?"

"Decide what?" I asked.

"What you wanted," he said.

I looked into his dark eyes. I'd had a couple of sleep-deprived days to ponder this question, and I'd run it over in my mind again and again. I didn't know the answer, but felt I had to be free of the question. "Does it matter?" I asked.

"That depends..." he said, drawing out his voice. I waited for the rest of his answer. As I waited, he appraised me again. I could feel his gaze pass over me, like a lover's finger sliding slowly over my body. Where it passed, my skin shivered. My nipples responded. My mouth grew moist. Hair stood up along my arms. My cunt began to get wet.

His gaze went back to my face. "Probably not," he said. It felt like a dismissal. He began to turn back in his chair, back to stare at his wall. I reached out and put my arm on his shoulder, pulling him back to face me. I couldn't allow this moment to pass, there had to be something more to it.

He turned back, raised an eyebrow, and stared at my hand until I removed it. "What exactly is your game, anyway?" I asked.

"There is no game," he said. "Two days ago, you walked over to me. I asked you what you wanted. Yet, you couldn't answer. I had to wonder -- what kind of person doesn't have an answer for that? You must have wanted something when you came over, but you couldn't say. Personally, I don't think you can answer. However, there must be some answer, you are here again today. There must be something you want. What do you want?"

I took in a deep breath. Back to that question again. I clenched my right hand into a fist, I could feel my nails digging into the palm of my hand. "No, I won't answer that yet. What do you want?" I asked, throwing the question back at him.

He cracked a small smile then, the first I'd seen from him. "Does it matter?" he asked, volleying back with my own words. His smile went away, but his eyes held amusement. Was this some sort of game to him? Well, two could play at that game.

I returned with some of his own ammunition "Do you even know what you want?"

"Yes, I do," he said, stopping me in my tracks

"Really?" I said.

He leaned forward in his chair. "Do you even want to know? Do you even think you could handle it?" His voice was soft, seductive, yet challenging. I just gave one imperceptible nod. "I'm looking for a woman," he said. "A woman who will be mine." I must have looked shocked then, because his eyes laughed at me. "A mirror to my soul. Someone to receive what I provide, to fulfill my desires, as I fulfill hers. Someone who turns to me for comfort and care. Someone I can wrap my arms around and hold her whole world. My opposite and complement. I can't seek her, because she must seek me."

It sounded almost familiar. Like something I had wanted, once. "What does this have to do with knowing what I want?"

"I know what I want," he said. "The woman I want, being my opposite, won't." His gaze bored into me again, and I felt a familiar shock. I fought the desire to bring my legs together, squeezing my thighs.

"What exactly is it that you can provide?" I asked. Visions of him pounding into me assaulted my consciousness. I had needs and desires, why couldn't I say what I wanted?

"Purpose, for one," he said. "I would be her purpose. And, in many ways, she would be mine."

"And you think I am that woman you desire?"

He tilted his head. "I don't know. Have you ever fantasized about kneeling down in front of someone in, say, a crowded restaurant, pulling out his cock and going down on him?" I shook my head no. "And doing it in an outfit skimpier than yours?" He leaned forward; I leaned back, away from him. "And masturbating while you did it?" I must have blushed then, he pulled back and gave me that condescending smile again. Was he suggesting that I do this for him, now?

My body was flushed with excitement, but I answered honestly. "N-no."

"Well, then," he said, as if that decided it. His eyes flickered, and focused on something behind me. "Your lunch is here." He turned again, and this time I didn't stop him.

That night, I went to bed early to get some rest, but found my dildo lying there under the covers. I picked it up, and slid the head between my lips, and then began sliding it in and out, deeper each time. I imagined him grabbing my hair, and pulling me to his cock, as he shoved it deep inside of me. I got up on my knees, and used my free hand to finger my cunt, sliding two, then three fingers deep inside of me.

We were in a public place. He was humping my face as I rammed my hand up my cunt. I was embarrassed but I didn't care, because he was wild for my mouth, and I was so hot for him. I sucked harder and harder as his cock filled my mouth. I felt him spurt, his come splashing against the back of my throat, and my cunt clamped down on my hand.

I let out a muffled scream around the dildo. My body shuddered and shook and shook again, as wave after wave of uncontrolled orgasm washed over me. I hadn't come that hard in months, maybe years.

I had to wonder, what was happening to me?

And did I want more?

---

The next morning I awoke more refreshed than I had in a long, long time. I lay in bed, where I had slept at a skewed angle, and watched as my digital alarm slowly counted up to the alarm time. When it went off, I got quickly out of bed, stiff -- but in a good way that I never realized I missed -- and shut it off.

When it came time for me to pick clothes, I headed into my spare bedroom -- the baby's bedroom -- where I kept some of my older clothes. I found two outfits, clothes that I wore clubbing, that I shouldn't ever wear to work, that still fit me, and fit well. One for today, and one for tomorrow, I told myself, just in case I missed him again. He'd shown up twice now, there was reason to believe he'd be back, eventually.

My first choice was the "more revealing" option. A V-neck blouse with a push-up bra, and a thigh-length dress that I couldn't bend over in. Nevertheless, it was better for work than the other one, which had as it's base a crotch-less body-stocking. Work wouldn't like it, but well... so what? I didn't care about work anymore. I wasn't sure I ever had.

As I put it on, I had a mental image of me on the floor in this dress in front of him. It was short, and I was on my knees, so I was showing a lot of thigh. But it was also easy for me to slide my hand up, inside the skirt, hiking it up just a little bit more to run my finger over my slit. As I stood there in my closet, I touched myself, and my pussy lips distended, making way for my finger. I smiled. Yes, this was what I wanted.

I was running late -- work had decided to be worse than usual, over and above the crude comments from co-workers, and an admonishment from my boss. All I did was smile and wonder what he'd say about tomorrow's outfit.

So, when I got there, he was already there. He was sitting and staring, but instead of facing the wall like had the previous two times, he was turned, facing the door. When he saw me, he relaxed, just the tiniest bit. He didn't show it on his face as he turned back to face the wall.

Disconcerted by this, I wasn't sure what to do. I glanced over to "my" table, and shook my head. Instead, I adjusted my outfit one last time, and walked over to him, and stood beside him. I still didn't know what to say.

He turned his head to me, and looked at me. Once again, his gaze traveled over me. He took his time, lingering at my hard nipples, pressing against the blouse, caressing my legs like a lover, and then settling back again on my eyes. He smiled just a little then. My heart skipped at his apparent approval. Again, I had to wonder whose web I was in: his or mine?

And I was totally wet.

His eyes narrowed. "So," he said. "Here we are again. " He seemed gruff, almost angry with me. Most of my confidence fled. Had I misread him? Wasn't he glad to see me? I felt myself shake, and the tears at my eyes, as I began to sob.

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, and sobbed into them, willing the tears to stop. "Oh, God!" I said. I gathered myself together, and lowered my hands to my sides. I could see my makeup smeared on the heels, and knew I must look awful.

"I don't know anymore," I said. "I thought I knew, but then I met you, and now I don't know anymore. My life has been hell, and then, suddenly, there was you. It's like you put me under some kind of spell. I can't think of anything but you."

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" He asked.

"This," I said. "Is not love. Lust maybe, or something else."

"But do you believe in it?"

"I did once."

"No longer?" I shook my head no. "I've never felt this way about anyone," he continued. "There is something inside of you, an emptiness that begs to be filled. A loveliness that wants to be used... A need that fills my want. There. I've told you how I feel, you can guess what I want. What do you want?"

Damn, it was that question again, thrown up to taunt me again. I turned to go, convinced this demon would never let me go, but he reached out and touched my elbow, "Wait," he said. "Do you really want to leave?"

I stopped, and turned back. "I don't know," I said. "I don't fucking know. I don't know what I want, or who I want, or what I want to do. I've been thinking about it for four days now, and I still don't fucking know. I used to think it was easy, simple, of course I know what I want, it's what I'm doing, right? But that was all yanked away from me long ago, and now life is too complicated. I don't know what I want, I don't know what I can have. I spent most of my time just being, going through the motions, and then you showed up. You and your stupid question."

"It doesn't have to be complicated," he said. "It could be simple."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It can't. I am not simple, life isn't simple."

"I could make it simple for you." His voice was quiet, but certain. An offer, a bargain, all I had to do was take it. His voice seemed to plead for a moment. "Let me make it simple for you. Let me hold you in my arms, and make everything all right. No one was supposed to go through this life alone, we all have someone there for us, someone who matches us. Let me be that person."

God how I wanted to just take him up on it, but no, I knew it wasn't that simple it never is. "I can't give you children," I said. There that would take care if it.

"Did I say I wanted children?" he asked. His stern mask fell. "You are my completing part, I know it. I want to devote my time to you, and all the rest will take care of itself."

I felt my nipples press against my bra, I felt my pussy muscles tighten. I looked into his eyes, and I fell into his gaze. I closed my eyes, and went down on my knees. With the skirt I was wearing, the people in the restaurant were getting a show, but I didn't care. It no longer mattered.

I knelt down, first on one knee, then the other. I lowered my head to his lap, and he ran his fingers through my hair. His hands slid under my arms, and he pulled me up, until we were hugging, him sitting, me kneeling on the ground.

His hands wrapped around me, and I knew peace for the first time in two weeks. His hands pulled me tightly to him, and I knew serenity for the first time... maybe ever. His head was next to mine, and he whispered in my ear, "Welcome Home. Welcome home, my love."

I felt my pussy spasm again, and he kissed me, sending me over the edge with just a kiss.

There was just something about him. I knew it the moment I saw him.

Ahoy, Mateys!

Early this morning, my wife Tam was talking to one of her crewmates on PuzzlePirates (I'm also a member of the crew, but a very new one, as I only play the game casually, and to play with her.)  She mentioned my name, which is also my name in the crew, and one her mateys said, "Joe Tortuga,as in 'Joe Tortuga's Erotic Writing?'"

She let me know while I was getting ready, and it's made my day. As I told her, if you see a Joe Tortuga out there somewhere, it's almost certainly me. I didn't always go by this name online, I used to go by "GenericJoe" but I'm not the only one of those -- there's a band that predates the use of the name.  So for the past few years I've moved over to this nick, and done a lot of writing (both erotica and games writing) online with it. It's who I am, perhaps more than my "real name."

Thinking about this, I realized I had a few older pieces, all on my ASSTR blog that could use highlighting. Not all those old pieces, but some of the ones I thought were of slightly higher quality.  I thought I'd post them here, and at StoriesOnline.net where I've been dual publishing stories.

These two stories are ones that I think of as both sides of the BDSM fantasy, particularly the role that Dominants play in it.  One is a romance in the purest since of the word, where the characters are sure in their roles, and conform precisely to the way we wish.  The other twists that around, with characters who aren't so sure of who they are and what they want.  The former lacks introspection, it's just the way things are -- which is why it is a romance, and the latter is almost completely introspection, and that's why both of these are fantasies, not reality.

In my opinion -- hard fought, and not-so-humble -- you can't do BDSM or Polyamory without both honest introspection and discussion.  (You probably can't have successful normal relationships without that either, but I've never done those...) The characters in these stories do neither, really but one is sweet and cheerful and the other dark and dangerous.

I hope you enjoyed Kadja last week.  I enjoyed writing it, and have notes/outlines for more stories, if they're desired. I'm working on another longer piece based on Manga, which is why I'm hoping to entertain you in the interim with some older fare.

Something About Him will be posted on Tuesday, and Choices, its darker cousin, on Thursday.

Enjoy, and as always, let me know what you do and do not like!

Kadja: Gaining Power 4/4

(MF mast bondage dragon magic)

I pulled agasinst the chains that tied me to the sacrificial altar.  I don't know if in that moment I wanted to escape, or get closer to the beast that flew above us. I looked up at it is at banked, and flew again across the moon.

At first it was just a pair of wings eclipsing the moon.  It flapped its wings, and dove straight for us.  As it fell, Jayne called out in that strange language and the torches burst into bright white light.  Still it fell toward us faster, and faster.

I tested my chains again, frightened of the collision as it got closer to us.  Suddenly it opened its wings with a snap that immediately slowed its progress.  "Dragon..." I whispered.  It was lovely, huge wings which blocked out all light except from our torches. Copper scales glistened in the white torchlight.  Its body hung between the wings, as if suspended in space above us. It's head long and square, it's tail twitching sinuously behind it.  

It settled down on hits hind legs onto the tower in front of me, about ten feet from my spread out legs. It passed it's head -- which was easily half the size of my body -- over me.  It's maw was filled with teeth, and I saw it's forked tongue as it spoke to my sister.  "This is the sacrifice, then?"  It's voice rumbled from deep within it's body.  I could feel its power above me, even as i pulled on the chains for what comfort they could give me for all that they confined me there.

"Yes, Ohlim," my sister responded.  "This is my sister Kadja.  She wants your help."

Ohlim turned to me then, the tips of it's tongue moving over my body.  "You want my help, little thing?"  The tongue tickled and teased me like a lover.  

I took a deep breath and looked it in it's slit coppery eyes.  I was here for a reason.  "I want my power," I said. "I cannot feel it."  

I bit my lip as Ohlim fixed his gaze on me, looking into my soul.  "I can help with that, little Medrhi.  There is a cost, I will want a favor."  Its tongue slid over my thighs, and up my side, under the chainmail covering my breasts.  The forks of hit tongue played with one nipple. 

This, then, was how I would be beholden.  It had to be worth it.  Anything would be.  I was too aroused to say anything aloud; I could only nod.  That was enough for him, it seemed, and for my sister.

She stepped up behind me, and touched my head to calm me. I took some strength from that.  "Dragons are asexual creatures," she said.  "They live forever, unlike us.  But they are more than that, right Ohlim?"

I don't know that I agreed with her. What he was doing with his tongue wasn't asexual.  But I knew what she meant. It didn't have the organs or the chakra -- while I was both frightened and aroused by what it was doing, for Ohlim it was just an intellectual exercise.

"There is much more to us than it seems," Ohlim said.  It began to transform above me, shrinking, solidifying, becoming humanoid, becoming decidedly male.  In shape, he was the mirror image of Antonio, but he still gleamed with coppery scales.  "I can transform to look like any human, and it gives the equipment and the chakra I need to help awaken your power," he said.  "I can look even more human if you like..." he became the spitting image of Antonio for just a moment.  "But then the magic will not work so well."  

"I think I prefer the scales," I said. 

Jayne touched either side of my head and spoke again in that indecipherable speech.  She knelt behind me, and kissed the top of my head.  I felt her do something -- I'm not sure what, but it was like a spark of electricity going from her lips to my head.  Then she stepped back.

Ohlim stepped forward then, and he stood between my legs at the base of the altar. I could feel him where he touched my legs.He leaned over me, to kiss me and I ran my face over his, feeling his skin. It was suprisingly smooth, despite the scales, supple and easy under my hands. I had thought his skin would be hard and unyielding, but it was anything but.  I pulled against my chains, wanting to touch him, to feel him, and to pull him to me.

His eyes were still draconic, coppery slits, and his lips met mine.  I opened my mouth to him, and our tongues touched, the forked tips of his tongue playing with my normal tongue.  I moaned into it.  I was so ready for him.  

His nails were pointed, like claws, and he gently dragged them over my body while we kissed.  I shivered beneath him, my need rising even higher.  His hands found my breasts, pushing the chainmail up and out of his way.  I moaned into our kiss as he fondled and squeezed my breasts.  

Pain is part of being Medrhi, but the feel of his hands digging into my breasts was exquisite pain. I cried out into our kiss, and he broke it, grinning down at me. He moved down my body, bringing those lips and that tongue to my nipples. First one, then the other. 

I closed my knees around him, but could only just barely touch his body. I wanted him, and wanted him now.  "Oh, Ohlim," I urged him.  "Fuck me, fuck me now."  But he wasn't to be pressured.  He fondled and teased my breasts, squeezing them with his hands and licking my nipples with his tongue, almost bringing me to orgasm just from that.

"Please fuck me, Ohlim. By the gods, fuck me!" He chuckled as I swore, but moved to oblige me.  He pushed my chain loincloth away, and I felt his fingers on my legs.  His nails slid up my thighs, and I shivered in anticipation.  

Finally he was  touching my pussy.  "Wet," he rumbled, his voice too large for his human-sized body.  "Gooood."  His fingers lightly touched my clit, and I shuddered with a small orgasm.  It didn't take much, considering.  "Now you are ready for me."

I could feel his cock, at the lips of my pussy.  His cock was hard and unyielding, unlike the skin of his face.  That was good. I spread my legs as wide as I could and he thrust fully into me.  I cried out in release as he slid into me with another small orgasm.

He leaned over me then, on hand on the altar, and the other on my left breast.  He began sliding in and out of me then.  He slid all the way out, then all the way back in, the wholeness of his cock filling me completely.  "Feel that," he rumbled.  "We touch at the root, in a sexual way.  We move together.  Feel the power rising, open yourself to it."

He fucked me harder then, not pulling out all the way, but still those long sure strokes.  Still that full press into me. I tried to breath, but his hand on my breast made it hard.  He squeezed as he thrust into me, and I thrust back against him.  I listened for my power, I searched for it where we joined.  I wasn't sure if it was power or building orgasm that I felt, but there was something there.

I pulled at the chains on my arms, trying to get more of him in me, even though there wasn't any more to have.  He pressed against me then pulled back and thrust again. And again. And again.  Something was building, something deep red and orange and yellow and all the colors of the rainbow.  Again and again and he picked up the pace. 

Faster and faster he fucked me and I lay there and let him, meeting his thrusts. The thought I was fucking a dragon flitted across my mind.  The thought of his skin against me, the thought of his hands  holding him.  Hands which seemed more like claws at that moment, one scraping against the stone of the altar, the other with a vice grip around my breast.

His tongue snaked out of him, and touched my nipples.  We were atop the Aerie, light all around us.  Magic filled the air.  Light filled our bodies.  He fucked me harder.  I wondered how many could see, and met his thrusts.

It would be soon now. Very soon.

He pressed harder and harder into me, then he pulled out completely and thrust all the way in, and there he stayed, roaring out in pleasure.  His hand, now a claw on my breast, squeezed in passion. I felt his come fill my pussy, and the world flashed in light.  The torches roared and went out, but still there was light, light of every color even black and white.  

I was coming, and I cried out with a voice I am sure all of Winterhaven could hear.

Ohlim leaped back from me, transforming in an instant from human back to dragon.  I could see its chakras change, the orange, sacral chakra fading into others.  Chakras of colors I couldn't name bursting into existence. "It is done," it said, and leaped into the sky, gone as fast as it had arrived.  It flashed in front of the moon again, and I could see how Ohlim's chakra gleamed in the night.

"I've been missing this for so long," I said.

Jayne came to me, the iron key back in her hand and unlocking me from the altar.  "You've got a bit of the indigo, too," she said. "You'll be able to see even more now.  I suspected as much -- you've always had good night vision."  

She removed the cuffs from my arms, and I sat up, and rubbed my breasts.  My left breast was marked, not with a scar or a tear, but almost a tattoo in the shape of a grasping claw, holding my breast. "Beholden," I whispered, and my sister looked up at me and nodded. 

"There are worse creatures to be beholden to," she said, unlocking my ankles.  

I stood up, and adjusted my clothing to be covered again.  My thighs were wet with my own juices and dragon cum, but that didn't bother me. I touched it with my hands, and felt a thrill pass through me.  I'd fucked a dragon, and I had my power now.

The torches were completely burned away, and all we had was moonlight.  I could hear people moving below us, and see torchlight on the ground.  I walked to the edge and saw a group of guards approaching the gate.  "We have company," I said.

"Well what we did was neither circumspect nor legal. What did you expect?"

"Illegal?" I asked. Not that the law is so important, but it's good to know what laws you broke. 

"Ancient magic," she said. "Generally frowned upon by the Empire. It's just for nobles, and the rich, you know."

"We can't go back the way we came," I said. "Unless the priests will hide us in the tower."

"No," she said. "I sent the apprentices away, they should be long gone now."

"So we go down the outside?" I said.  I turned to her and grinned. I saw her orange chakra glowing over her womb with a strength that outshone her others.  That was why she was an Erosceror, of course, only now I could see it.

"Yep," she said. Jayne is much smaller than me, which is good.  We'd done this before but not for years.  I climbed over the side, where the moon's light would be shadowed. I held there, while she climbed on my back and held on.  

I don't know if I was just filled with good energy from the sex, or if the carvings on the wall made it easier, but climbing down the tower was easy and fun.  We worked back and forth, hugging the shadowed areas.  With my new vision, it was much easier to see the guards below, and to avoid them.  Trees and rocks still blocked my new vision, but I was hardly complaining. 

The other advantage we had tonight was that the moon was shining on the gates of the tower, so the towers shadow was away from the guards.  We could hear them climbing the stairs, but the outer wall really was faster.  That and we were going down.  Jayne held on and muttered "You don't want to see us, you don't want to see us."  I saw her magic red and luminous envelop us, and for once I really understood what she was doing: she was shaping the desires of those who might see us to not want to see us, so they wouldn't. 

Not an illusion really, but one more in line with her power.  I was impressed, and remembered all the times she used to do something similar while we lived on the streets.  My sister was more powerful than I had ever known before.  For that matter, so was I.

I dropped us the last few feet to the ground, and we worked our way to the wall around Temple Hill.  That was the trickiest spot, because at the top we couldn't avoid the city lights.  I boosted Jayne over, and heard her drop to the ground.  After a quick check that no one had seen us, I went next, lifting myself to the top, looking out over the city. 

The new vision blinded me for a moment, the way magic blended in with the whole city.  The city lights, the houses, all the people. I stopped at the top stunned by it all, and heard a guard cry out. "They're over there."

"Shit," I muttered, and leaped over the wall.  Jayne had already started running for a nearby alley, and I followed her.  A quick look back, and there were a handful of guards following us.  "Run!" I urged her.  "Meet you back at the tavern."   She nodded and took off.  

I turned and waved to the guards, making sure to shimmy in my chainmail bikini, and took a different route. Four of the guards followed me, and only one went down the path Jayne went.  She could handle one easily enough, even though she wasn't a fighter.

I ran through a few more turnings, losing two of the guards along the way.  The other two were faster, though, and I wouldn't outrun them.  I dodged into a darkened alley that turned into a dead end.  I could climb out, but not in time to stop the pursuit.  It was time to turn around and face them.

I pulled my daggers, glad I'd brought them along, and watched as their eyes went to my hips.  I grinned at them.  The alley was pretty narrow, and the guards were using the sword-and-shield combo that Antonio favored.  If I could close with one, the other wouldn't be able to help without endangering his friend. 

I looked my chosen target in the eyes and licked my lips, and I could see sweat on his brow. He lunged at me, and I twirled out of the way, inside his reach. Reversing one of the daggers, I spun behind him, and struck him on the head, knocking him out.

The other guard didn't wait for me, and was swinging as soon as her friend went down.  I parried with the dagger, and she knocked me back.  She was much stronger than the first guard.  She grinned as I leaped back.  "Your tricks won't work on me Medrhi.  I don't like girls."

My power was easy to reach, both for movement and seduction.  I let it fill me, and closed with the remaining guard.  "I don't know," I said, my voice smooth and rich.  "I might change your mind."  She swung again, and I parried.  I pushed against her sword, bringing our crossed blades above my cleavage. I shimmied again, putting a bit of power into it.  Her gaze flickered, and I broke the parry, pulling in close to her.

I rubbed my chest against her, spinning around as she tried to step back to get her shield between us.  I danced back and forth letting the lioncloth flap in the breeze, and putting all my power into the movement.  I willed her to want to look, to see what she could see.  Her aura flashed indigo, as her gaze wandered over my body.  I knocked the sword out of her hand, and kicked her in the chin.

I'm not all bad, she got to see my all before she passed out.  Not that it'll make her like women any more.

Getting back to the tavern was easy at that point.  As would be showing Travia my power. I needed training, as I couldn't seem to turn off my sight. But like I had assured Jayne, that training would be available to me.  I was already good at what I do, and now I'd be great. Maybe even great enough to get to fuck another dragon.

Kadja: Gaining Power 3/4

(MF mast bondage dragon magic)

The next three days were a special kind of hell.  I lay there for a while, but just like I don't avoid sex well, I'm not good at being still.  That third chakra was almost as strong in me, and I needed to be out moving and doing things, Jayne was right about that.  I spent the night prowling, something I don't let Travia know I like to do.  It's how Jayne and I got enough money for her to go into training.  I'm good at climbing and sneaking and, well, acquiring.  A girl likes her loot.

I didn't steal anything those three nights, because that's another thing that makes me horny.  No, I just climbed up the roofs of Winterhaven, and made my way around the city I knew so well.  I went back and forth across the city a few times, and even made it as far as the castle walls.  But I'm saving that approach for later, because I may only have one real chance at it.  No sense getting caught and spending my nights in jail, when I needed to be on Temple hill soon.

The goal was to tire me out enough I could sleep through the day, and it generally worked.  On the third night, I put on my best chainmail -- the same set I wore for Travia earlier in the week -- and headed for the gate to Temple hill.  I left most of my things at home, just a pair of daggers because I'm naked without them.  I didn't think it'd matter much for the ritual, and it'd be worse to be without.

When I dropped down in to the square outside the gate, my sister was already there. She was easy to spot, as she had a couple apprentices with her as torch-bearers.  I didn't recognize them, but that wasn't surprising.  Her Master was a bit secretive in general; Travia was much the same with outsiders. 

There were two of them, a woman and a man, both cute.  I wondered if both or either of them would be involved in the ritual.  While I prefer men, I don't abhor women.  And my nerves were such that I didn't much care who fucked me, so long as I got fucked. 

"Hiya, Jayne," I said, walking up to them.

"Kadja," she said nodding.  "Ready?"

"Yep. Where are we going?"

"The Aerie," she said, and turned to walk through the gate.  I followed in behind her, and the apprentices positioned themselves in front and back, lighting our path.

I looked up at the Aerie, the second highest point in the city -- the highest being the spire atop the castle.  The Aerie, though, is a tower, thirty feet in diameter at the top, and built by some ancient and long-dead civilization. It was here when King Tolbin founded Winterhaven five hundred years ago.  It was a few generations after him that the spire got built.  People with ego problems don't typically found lasting empires.

The Aerie, though, was wide at it's base, and had a spiraling staircase built around the center.  

Carvings spiraled up the outside, making a particularly easy climb. I figured it would be faster and easier to climb up the outside, but I didn't think we'd be managing that today. I added it to my list of things to do, though.  All in all, it was a pretty cool place to get laid.

Jayne stepped forward at the gate, and spoke to the priests who were guarding the entrance.  She spoke in low tones to them, and handed them a small bag of coins.  I arched my brow -- who was paying for this? I hoped it wasn't me.

"Let's go," she said.  "To the top."  We went through the gate.  The Aerie has a spiral staircase that hugs the outside wall.  Newer construction on the inside abutted the staircase, making it a long hallway that ran up the side of the entire building.  Every twenty feet or so, there was a door into the inner tower. They were all closed, and I know for sure the first two were locked.  I'd know about the others, too, but Jayne gave me a look when she heard the second rattle.

I'll have to work on that.

After fourteen doors, the stairs ended with a wooden hatch in the ceiling.  The male apprentice, who was leading handed his torch to Jayne, and swung it open.  I could see the moon shining above us as we climbed out onto the roof of the tower.  It was a perfect circle, about thirty feet in diameter.  Seven stone torch stands were spaced evenly about the circle.  The border of the tower ended in little one-foot talk triangular spikes that made it look like a crown from the ground.  From the outside they look like they'd deter a thief, but I knew better now.

In the center of the circle was a waist-high altar about the size of a small bed.  Next to that was a chest that looked new enough to be out of place.  Seeing that Jayne said, "Good," and walked over to it.  "This is a good sign."

"There was doubt?" I asked, nervous.

"Nothing is certain until it happens," Jayne said.  She took an iron key out from within her robes, and fitted it to the lock on the chest.

"So that's not normally here, then?" I knew the answer, but the mysteriousness was getting to me.

"No, it was left by your suitor."  She pulled out several torches, and handed them to the apprentices.  They started putting them in the stone sconces on the edge of the circle.

"My suitor?" I laughed.

"Well," she grinned up at me, "The one you're going to fuck, anyway."

I watched as the apprentices lit the torches, casting an orange glow on everything.  I could already see by the moonlight, but the torches showed that the carvings that extended to the roof of the tower.  The story of creation that began at the base culminated here, with the meeting of man and dragon, and what happened then.  The whole thing was intertwined around a cut out seven pointed star.  The torches stood at its points.  

I was overwhelmed with the feeling of age of the place.  The Aerie was an old, old place of magic.  This was real, and it was going to work. I was sure of it.  The sound of chains clinking together distracted me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Jayne holding up four iron cuffs.  "Irons?" I asked.

"For our sacrifice," she said. "I guess you aren't supposed to move around."  She gestured to the altar.  "Sit there."

I sat down on the end of the stone altar. It was surprisingly warm in the night air.  Jayne knelt in front of me, and chained one leg to the altar. "Should I take these off?" I asked, gesturing to my chainmail outfit.

Jayne looked up at me from between my legs, her gaze stopping for a moment on my crotch and breasts. It wasn't sexual, just assessing.  She looked at me with a wry grin.  "No, that's not necessary, or desired."  I laughed, there was that.  A Medrhi warrior in garb is usually pretty ready to move from fighting to fucking.  Nothing was really in the way of anything.

She locked down my other leg, and told me to lie down.  I did, and she moved to my right, took my wrist, and clamped one of the irons around it.  She bent down, and attached it to the altar's hooks.  She walked around to the other side, and attached my left wrist to the altar.  I had to wonder why something like the tower had tie-down rings on its altar.  I tried not to dwell on that.

Instead, I pulled on the chains to test them -- I had no intention of going anywhere, but I needed to know.  I had a little movement -- enough to help, but not stop the sex.  The chains themselves were plenty strong, if a little uncomfortable. No one promised me comfort, after all.  They promised me power.

Now that I couldn't move, I could feel myself getting hot.  I took a deep breath, and looked up at the moon.

The apprentices finished lighting the torches, and I realized just how bright it was up there. Seven torches is quite a lot of light.  I realized that while no one could see me or Jayne, everyone in town knew something was going on up here. I turned my head to the hatch we came up, and saw Jayne usher the apprentices out. 

She closed the hatch behind her, and locked it.  I raised my eyebrow and wonder just what was going to happen.  I pulled against my chains a bit more, just for reassurance.  I think it worked, a little.  It made my nipples crinkle up a bit though.  I was more than ready to have sex, at least.  I held on to that thought -- it was something I understood.

Jayne began walking clockwise around the circle, muttering to herself.  As she passed the torches, they changed color in the order of the chakras.  Red, orange, yellow, and all the way to violet.  I think they were even brighter than they were before.  The people of Winterhaven were getting a show tonight.

I looked up at the moon, and tried to wait for whatever would happen.  I reached for my power, just to see if it was happening yet, and felt nothing beyond my own arousal and expectation.  My sister was standing above my head, facing me, calling out in a language I didn't quite understand.

That's when I saw it. Unfurled wings high above stretched from one side of the moon to the other. A roar that would wake all of Winterhaven, and a gust of flame to punctuate the point.

Dragon.

Kadja: Gaining Power 2/4

(MF mast bondage dragon magic)

My sister, Jayne, is a natural Erosceror.  She's gotten training, and told me enough about it to understand how power flows through the chakras of the human body  Chakras are little centers of anima within the body of all living creatures.  Humans have seven primary ones, and several smaller ones.  The primary ones run from the base of the spine all the way to the top of the head.  

Like her, my strongest chakra is the second one, centered on the womb in women and with the power of sex, feelings, and desire. Unlike her, I don't have access to my personal magic.  Most people can't do much with their power: usually that is because they don't have much.  

Some people have a lot of power but don't seem to use it.  They are still successful, sure, but they'd be exponentially more successful if their chakras were open.  I'm in the latter category. I'm good at what I do, but if Jayne is right, then I have a lot more going for me than skill and practice can get me.  All I need to do is to learn to open my chakras to the anima around me.

But I've never been able to.  As far back as I can remember, Jayne has been able to do such wonders, while I had to struggle on my own.  It worked okay, it kept us alive on the streets of Winterhaven.  She did certain things well, keeping us warm and taken care of, and out of trouble. Sorcery of any kind, particularly second-chakra sorcery can only get you so far in the material world.  That's where I came in.  Jayne says my third chakra, which governs motion, is almost as bright as my second.  I've never been still, and I've always been spry. I didn't always do the right or legal thing, but I kept us alive.

Jayne finally found a Master to teach her how to use her power, and I found Mistress Travia to teach me my own. We didn't have to live on the streets anymore, but we still struggled to get by.  And that would just be harder without Travia's support.  Jayne would be fine, but I'd be totally on my own.

To avoid being on my own, normally I'd turn to my lover Malkem. He was my main male companion and primary lover; he was also out of town.  He'd finished up his training a few months before, and had taken a job as a caravan guard.  He was Medrhi as well, but of a different school.  We'd argue about whose was a better school, which often led to combat-inspired sex.  He wouldn't be home for a few months, so I had found other amusements.  I'm sure he did the same; no Medrhi schools revere abstinence.

So I was a bit indisposed when I finally saw Jayne again, two days after my meeting with Travia, and still sooner than I'd expected.  I'dd spent the last two days getting drunk, getting laid, and sleeping in.  I was working hard on a third day when she showed up.  The bar got quiet when she walked in -- not because she didn't belong, but because of the air about her.  

She walked over to my table and gave the men on either side of me a look which caused them to get scarce.  No one in their right mind wants to deal with an irate Erosceror.  But sometimes they're your sister.  Most of the regulars knew her, of course, so it wasn't hard to tell something was up.  I quickly drank half my ale, and pushed a drink across to her. 

"Hiya, sis," I slurred.  "Have a drink."

"Antonio said you might be drowning you sorrows."

"He told you that, eh?  Well tell the bastard that they swim pretty good."

"You're lucky we were interrupted," Jayne ignored me. "The ritual we were working on takes two weeks. You only have one."

"Five days, now," I said. "And it'll be my anniversary."

She sighed at me, and took my hands.  "C'mon.  Let's go home."

Home was on the second story of the tavern, a one-room apartment we shared.  It wasn't much, but it was ours.  And it was above my favorite bar, after all.  "Don't wanna go," I countered.

"Sure you do.  It's nice and warm and s oft in our bed upstairs.  You can sleep and dream pleasant dreams."  She squeezed my hands, and looked me in the eyes while she talked to me.  She smiled held me for a moment when she finished.

"Uh, sure," I said.  My head wasn't very clear, and it seemed like she was right.  Time to sleep.  

We walked upstairs, leaning on each other as we climbed.  She let me to our bed, pulled down the covers, and tucked me in. I wasn't wearing much,anyway -- I rarely do. She started getting ready for bed herself.  "Tomorrow you can tell me all about it."

"Yeah.  Mistress said to talk to you." I mumbled a bit, the bed sapping my strength and luring me off to sleep.

"She did? Travia wanted you to talk to me?"  She stopped and touched me on the shoulder, getting my attention.

"Yeah, 'Tell your sister I sent you to her' she said."  I yawned, and snuggled under our fur blankets. 

"Really," Jayne said.  She kissed my forehead.  "Sleep dear sister, sleep.  I'll be back in the morning." 

And with that, she was gone.  Or I was just asleep.  I don't really remember.

What I do remember is waking up the next morning, my sister hovering over me in her robes from the night before wielding two hot mugs of kava, and my head pounding from the night before.  For the first time in days, I didn't just want more ale to fight the ache.  I took the mugs of kava from her, as she slipped into bed next to me, like we used to do as children to confide and comfort.

I handed her back her mug, and sipped my own. She wrapped her hands around the mug, and said. "So.  Tell me about it."  I told her about my fight with Antonio, and my discussion with Mistress Travia.  She knew most of it, about how I couldn't sense my chakras the way she has always been able to do.

She looked at me. "There is nothing in you stopping this from happening.  You can do this for yourself.  There's no need for special measures."

"And what have you ever suggested that I haven't tried, Jayne?  I've meditated, and focused.  Don't tell me that Travia's training doesn't require discipline and control.  I've listened to you tell me about your training, and your sense of magic, and I've tried.  But it's not there, it won't respond to me, and it won't do what I want."

"It's your power, Kadja.  Yours to be claimed.  You can do this."

"Almost twenty years, Jayne.  That's how long I've tried to do this.  Seeing you, my big sister with her easy magic, and just trying to be like you.  Nineteen years, I've tried. All of my life I've tried.  If I couldn't honestly do it before now, how am I going to do it in five days?"

"Four now," Jayne said, looking away from me.

"Right. Thanks for setting me straight, sis."  I leaned back against the headboard, holding my kava, and not looking at my sister.   She did the same, and we lay there, the old argument and jealousies between us.

"There's another way," she whispered.  "It has risks.  It can leave you beholden."

"But I would have my power?" I asked, still staring into my kava.

"Access to it, yes.  You'll still need training, for instance.  You'd still need to claim your power, but you'd be able to touch it."

"The training I will get from Mistress Travia.  She's promised me that much. And it is my power, right? If it's mine, it's mine."  I reached out to her, and turned her to face me.  "Tell me how it is done."

"It's a ritual.  I can help perform it, but I need another's help.  Three nights from now, I want you to meet me at the gate to Temple Hill.  We'll do the ritual there."

"What kind of ritual?"

"You know what kind of ritual," she said. "I'm an Erosceror, you're Medrhi. You know where our magic comes from."

I nodded. "Okay, I can do that."

"There's one more thing," she said. "No sex. No masturbation.  Don't come anytime in the next three days."

"You're kidding me."

"No, I'm serious.  It's important for the ritual. It builds power in the sacral chakra, which we'll release during the ritual."

I sighed, and nodded. "Okay, I can see that.  Three nights is the full moon."

"Right," Jayne said. "That's convenient, but not required.  I need to organize things, and you need to fast from sex.  Those are the key things."

I nodded.  "I'll be there," and drank my kava. 

"You can do this," she said rising from bed. I pouted at her. "You should get out, use the excess energy.  Maybe do some prowling."  

I smiled at that. She opened the door to go out. "You're not going to sleep?" I asked.

"Too much to do," she smiled.  "Take care. See you three nights from now."

She put on her slippers, and set her kava on the table, and slipped out the door.  She was going to be busy, great.  I just got all the stuff I liked to do taken away.  I couldn't fuck, which meant I couldn't drink, and I better not fight either.  I drank down my kava, and lay back in bed wondering what I'd do.