Time for Clocks and Demons

This is a trilogy of intense erotic tales with a shared bondage theme. The following excerpts are not for the faint-of-heart.

Excerpt 1:

It was just after sundown. He was still fatigued from all the hubbub of the wedding day and dozed off. The sound of a door woke him and he stretched, yawned and blinked as the light from the bathroom silhouetted his wife in the doorway. Hands behind her she slowly strutted into the room.

“My God you’re beautiful!” Mike exclaimed as she approached the bed. A sheer white gown hung open from her shoulders and framed the vision beneath it. White high-heeled bedroom slippers accentuated her long, slender legs now barely covered with glistening white stockings. The stockings were stretched taunt by garters from the lace merry-widow that constricted her already small waist. The attached, under wire demi‑bra enhanced her round, firm breasts and exposed her nipples. A small, sheer triangle of material that matched the stockings barely covered her pubic hair. It was held in place by shiny strings tied in neat bows at either hip.

She stopped at the foot of the bed, put her hands on her hips, smiled wickedly, slowly turned and walked toward the wall mirror.

He stood up and followed, watching first her legs and buttocks retreating across the room and then her forward image as she approached the mirror. Without turning, she watched him approach and moistened her lipstick with her tongue. His cock now felt rock-hard as it preceded him across the room. He placed his hands on her hips and looked over her shoulder at the vision of Hollywood-style sexuality standing reflected in the mirror.
“Do you like it?” She asked dipping her eyes momentarily.

He slid his hands up her flanks and around her breasts, pulling her back towards him. His left thumb and forefinger took possession of her nipple and gently rolled and pinched it. She covered his hand with her own and pressed it harder onto her breast while her right arm reached back and rested on his thigh. The tiny silk panty was stretched aside as his right hand slid down into the already moist cleft between her legs. She moaned softly, tilted her head back and leaned further unto him. The thick mass of his cock was pressed tightly between her buttocks as she wiggled higher up on her toes. First one and then two of his fingers pressed into her sex. Urgently, he massaged her clitoris with his right hand while the left cupped her breast and worked the nipple into a hard knot. The soft moans quickly turned into small, wordless pleas as, eyes closed, she gave herself over to the passion and began trembling uncontrollably.

Almost collapsing, she rolled around facing him and their lips met. He scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

She kicked off the heels and stretched with one leg hanging off the bed and her arms tangled in her hair. The bows at her hips were the work of a second each and she arched her hips for a moment so he might remove the panty. He knelt at her feet and ran his hands up her legs to her hips.

The soft, dark patch of pubic hair had been carefully shaved to hide within a bikini bottom. It glistened in the soft light with tiny beads of lubricating moisture. He parted her pubic lips gently and blew softly across the tiny bud of her clit. She sucked air between her teeth and thrust her hips to meet him. The sweet womanly aroma filled his nostrils and he went to work. With a rapid, tickling motion, he moved his tongue about her cleft, only occasionally spending more than a few moments on her clit. Her long, red fingernails wove into his hair as she tried to hold back the raging fires building within her. The first, hesitant waves of passion were just rolling over her when, suddenly, he stopped.

“What’s the matter?” She moaned, looking up through half-closed eyelids. One hand pressed deep into her love-mound, the other reaching up for him as he stood by the bedside.

“Nothing my darling.” He whispered. “Nothing at all.” He lifted her further up onto the bed while helping her out of the sheer dressing gown. Clad now only in the white lace basque and stockings, she lay shamelessly before him. Spreading her legs even wider, he stretched out over her. Teasing, he placed just the tip of his cock into her and moved perhaps an inch or so until her urgent hip movement and impassioned pleas caused him to relent and push the full mass of his organ deep into her hot, tight cleft. She squealed joyfully as he entered her and immediately crossed both legs across his buttocks.

They slowly moved about, basking in the feel of each other’s body. The irregular movements eventually merged into a slow, rhythmic grind that was as old as time itself. The tempo increased as their passions grew. Suddenly, the heat overtook him and he began pounding into her body with fast, measured strokes.

Her silk-covered legs kept sliding up and down his tightly clenched buttocks and her red fingernails dug into his back as the first orgasm of the evening came boiling out of his cock. She struggled to keep up and just as she felt his cock thicken and pulse with overflowing semen, she increased her own gyrations and allowed herself to join him in an uncontrolled frenzy.

Excerpt 2:

The jolt as I was moved from the van brought me fully awake. The first thing I noticed was the gag sealing my mouth, and preventing my screams of outrage from sounding any more than a soft, nasal squeal.
I had to blink several times in the bright light as the quilted moving pad was removed. After focusing, I realized I was in the middle of a hall with various large art objects. This was the hall were the ‘Something Old, Something New’ art exhibit and auction was being held.
They pushed me up against the wall and I realized I was facing a very ornate antique mirror. Suddenly, the full reflected image shocked me to life! I was on display as a clock! The ‘makeup’ the clockmaker had applied was a set of stylized numbers on my forehead, cheeks and chin.
At that point, I was WAY past being scared and aroused and was now heading towards full-bore pissed! After trying to move my arms and legs, I realized I was helplessly spread on display for everyone to see… The oval opening in front was letting in the cooling breeze from the AC and I could feel my nipples harden as the chill air washed them.
“Hello there, my dear. I’m glad to see you had a nice nap. It is almost time for the exhibit to open. I wouldn’t want you to miss the party. We still have a couple of last-minute details to get you ready for your artistic debut.”

Excerpt 3:

My husband followed me up the walk to their front door. I was acutely conscious of my apparel. It was the swimsuit I’d refused to wear yesterday. The rubber-like stretch fabric was shaped like an athletic suit except for the rear. A tonga-style strap separated my cheeks and the faint, red stripes from my session with the riding crop were still very visible. The glittery, plastic and metal belt around my waist was actually a string of solar cells that were wired directly to the “butterfly” stimulator hidden in the crotch. My cover-up was merely a white, fishnet jacket that did nothing to hide the shiny black suit. The ever-changing patterns of sunlight and shadows as I walked caused the “silent friend” between my legs to randomly vibrate. Clear plastic “slides” with narrow, four inch heels completed the outfit. At least I wasn’t handcuffed or fettered!
He rang the bell and we waited a few moments. Just as he was reaching for it again, the door opened.
Wow! I couldn’t believe my eyes. Julie was standing in the doorway in a maid’s uniform. She had a figure straight out of some fantasy magazine. I never thought I would meet a real “Barbie” doll, but there she was! She stood there a moment, silent as we stared at her.
“Please come in. Master Paul is by the pool. Follow me.” She turned and strutted across the room toward the patio.
My Master was positively drooling as we followed her across the house. I didn’t blame him. She was an English wet-dream! At least the shade had allowed my “tickler” to pause in its ministrations.