May 24

Mischa Eliot

Wicked Wednesday: Unleashed

Ahh, Wicked Wednesday has such a great prompt today. What will sex be like in the year 2517? Perhaps like in Demolition Man where no one physically touched in fear of disease? Maybe there will be bionic implants involved? Or perhaps something different. 

 


Roger felt every nerve in his body burn and his innards turned to ice. “Mistress, he is Unleashed.” Sweat broke out along his brow and he backed away until he hit the wall, sliding down to hold himself while the fear sliced through him.

“How is this possible? I thought we’d rooted out all the freeman in this quadrant.” Pursing my lips, I ran my fingers along the muscles of the unconscious man’s arm. With a glance at Roger, a bitter taste entered my mouth. He had been from a line of men known once as Politicians.

“Get others and take him to my quarters. Bind him. I will interrogate him personally.” The idea of this man, in our Capitol without a chip unnerved me. I needed to know if there were more and where they hid. I retreated to my office while they followed orders.

After another devastating war that almost obliterated everything, women and some pockets of men, created a device. In the beginning, it looked sort of like a shock collar, but now it was a chip embedded in the back of the neck. Since women had taken over, the world had become mostly peaceful.

After finishing up my day, I retreated to my private quarters. When I entered, I picked up a remote and turned off all the cameras except the ones that were connected to my private servers. I’d been trained for years to interrogate unleashed males, but had never gotten the chance to actually put it to the test. I planned to use every weapon in my arsenal.


Storm-colored eyes met mine, then slipped to my cleavage peeking out of the top of my dress.


And this particular male, despite his roughened look, was amazing to behold. The muscles alone got me excited in a way I’d never felt before. I touched his cheek, running my finger down his face, extended from the ball gag in his mouth. His arms were cuffed to the arms that stood straight out from the chair, his ankles the same to the legs, which were spread open. His eyes flickered open.

“So, you’re awake. Good.” I slipped behind him and untied the strings to the gown he’d been put in after decontamination. Once I’d untied everything, I tossed it to the side. I ran my fingers along his muscled arms as I returned to stand in front of him. I bent over, his storm-colored eyes met mine, then slipped to my cleavage peeking out of the top of my dress.

“Well, do you like what you see, big boy?” I grabbed my breasts and played with them beneath the thin fabric, smushing them together. “If you answer my questions, maybe you’ll get to play with them. What do you say?”

The male’s body stiffened, in more ways than one. I knew he’d try to resist, but I wanted him to for as long as he could. The more fun for me the longer he lasted. I flicked his nipples with my fingers, then pinched them with increasing pressure. “Are there more of you?”

His chest rose and fell in rapid succession as he tried to control his reaction, but the way his cock stiffened told me he was enjoying the pain. “You like that. Well, I can do better.” I opened a drawer and pulled out clips and attached them to his nipples. He writhed and struggled against the bonds that held him, but the way his hips thrust gave his true desire away.


Control. I needed to remain in control.


“Are there more of you?” I would continue to ask this until he gave me the answer I wanted. I knew he couldn’t have survived alone. There had to be more men, and perhaps women who hid them. This quadrant was too well patrolled for him to have just wandered in, but it was also unbelievable that it could also be the case.

I stripped off my dress and kicked off my shoes. Next came my matching lingerie. I rubbed his face against my breasts. Saliva that had slipped out from between his lips and the ball slicked up my skin. “I’ll let you suck on them if you give me an answer.” I backed away.

When he didn’t reply, I kneeled before him and ran my nails up his thighs. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me? I could make this quite painful for you. And not in the pleasurable way you’ll enjoy.” He slumped as much as he could being bound, his head rolling back while his eyes slipped shut.

Flicking my tongue back and forth over the head of his cock caused muffled moans and more hip thrusts. Perhaps he’s just an unchipped pet someone kept for themselves. The thought disconcerted me. While women were allowed to have a pet, it was always best to keep them under control.

“Are there more unleashed males where you come from?” I needed an answer. I craved an answer. I hadn’t tasted such tasty male in a long time. I wondered if it had to do with his unleashed state. He hung in the chair, eyes barely open, staring at me.

 Nod.

A sliver of fear wormed its way inside. Were they plotting against us? Did they send this one to us to check out defenses? To steal intel or tech secrets?

“Are you plotting something? To free the men of the world that are Leashed?” I was screaming in his face, spittle flying from my lips, hand embedded in his too long hair.

The male shook, his eyes were screwed shut tight. When it came to me what I was doing, I backed off. “You’re a pet?” Control. I needed to remain in control.

Nod.

“Good. You’ll tell me everything. If you want to be mine. Do you want me?”

The unleashed male nodded so fast and hard, I thought he’d break his neck. Moving forward I embedded myself onto his thick cock. Once I settled firmly in place, I removed the ball gag. A moan so long and loud exited him I feared for his throat.


“Oh fuck, you are perfect, you hit all the right spots.”


“Such a good boy.” I rode him, pumping my legs up and down, digging my nails into his chest. The clips on his nipples stood out, rubbing against my own as I bounced. “Oh fuck, you are perfect, you hit all the right spots.”

I pulled his hair and he pumped his hips, trying to meet every downward movement with his own thrust. “Oh yes, that’s it! Keep doing that.” Faster we met, the rhythm becoming wild. I removed the clips from his nipples and he cried out. I could feel him filling me up as I clenched down onto his length.

Nuzzling against his neck when I could move again, I kissed and nibbled him, reveling in his wild taste. “Mine.”

“Yes, Mistress. I belong to you, now and until my last breath or until you tire of me and send me away.” I kissed him soft and gentle, slipping my tongue inside his lips.

“Good boy.”


If you enjoyed this post, please stop by and see the other entries from those participating in Wicked Wednesday.

Stop by Rebel’s Notes and say something nice while you’re at it!

May 22

Mischa Eliot

Masturbation Monday: Distracted

I love it when a good story pops into my head. No idea where this one came from… the original story I worked on earlier today for MM was about ass worship, but this one overrode the idea and hey, who am I to tell my muse no?


Confiscated from Pinterest

Thud thud thud.

With every smack of the wooden ruler against his palm, I shivered.

“Leo, are you listening?” Grayson slapped the ruler against the table this time. His jaw tightened but only for a moment. “I see you’re distracted. Perhaps it’s time for a break.”

Grayson had taken over my tutoring when I’d been put on academic warning. The past few months had not only raised my grades, but had raised interesting questions about myself as well.

“Take off your shirt and get on your knees.” He moved from across the table. Ruler in his strong grip.

A flush came over me. It was late, but we were in the library. There were pockets of study groups all over the building. Our floor appeared relatively empty and no one was in our direct line of sight, but still, chances were we could be caught.

“But-”

“No stalling. Take it off.”

Swallowing, after a quick glance around, I removed my shirt and fell to my knees before him. “Yes, Sir. Please forgive me. I keep thinking about….” My mind flashed back to our last session and every muscle in my body tightened. I closed my eyes, wanting to revel in the memories.

Grayson flicked the ruler against my chest, focusing on my nipples. With every smack I flinched. “Focus, Leo. I require you to focus on the work, not on what happened last week.”

Smack Smack Smack.

The pain cleared my mind and helped center my thoughts. As I expected another smack from the ruler, it didn’t come. Instead, something more delectable took my attention. Warm and hard and pressed against my lips. At first, I thought I had to be wrong, lost in a fantasy. But no, when I opened my eyes, there it was, Grayson’s stiffness against my lips.

“Hurry up, Leo. You don’t want us to get caught, right?” Grayson’s voice was low with a little taunting buried deep.

I went to reply, but ended up with a mouthful of cock instead. I grabbed his hips as he wrapped his hands around my head. My hair was too short to grab, so he wrapped his long fingers around my head as if it were a ball. As Grayson pushed me forward, I pulled him to me. I couldn’t take my time and enjoy the feel of his meat against my tongue, the taste of him on my lips. After using every little trick I learned from reading and porn, I found myself swallowing down every drop.

Through the entire thing, Grayson had been stone silent and unmovable. Quickly he hid himself and handed my shirt to me. I flinched a little when the tenderness of my nipples against the shirt kicked in. Grayson snickered a little, then reached over and pinched one.

“C’mon. Let’s get out of here. I have a feeling you’ll pay better attention if I take care of this first.” He patted the raised portion of my loose jeans and then started packing up our things.

“Yes, Sir.” I couldn’t wait to find out what he had in store for us back at his place.


In case you were unaware, May is Masturbation Month! Kayla is doing something really awesome and you should definitely stop by and check it out!

You can find more delicious naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords

May 19

Mischa Eliot

Sharing is Caring: Blackmailing the Babysitter by Liam Alexander

Welcome to another installment of Sharing is Caring! This time around I’ve gotten a submission from Liam Alexander. Please enjoy the excerpt from Blackmailing the Babysitter. Make sure to follow Liam on Twitter and say hello!


“Before we decided to hire a babysitter, Barb had me install a hidden webcam in the living room,” he explained.
Aimee’s stomach turned to ice. Holy shit! she thought. Could they have seen her when she was…no, there was no way they could have seen that little incident a week or two ago! It was too dark for a little video camera to pick up…
“Wh-what did you see?” Aimee asked, trying to appear calm and failing miserably. Robert looked down and sighed. He opened up a laptop on the desk.
“I was going through the recording of last week,” Robert said, pressing on an icon on the screen, “and this is what saw.”
Shit! Shit! Shit! Aimee kept repeating in her mind. A small window opened, playing a grainy black-and-white video. It showed Aimee, recognizable even in the night vision of the camera, sitting on the living room couch. There was a faint source of light that shined on her, presumably from the television screen.
On the video, Aimee was wearing a lightly-colored top and a dark miniskirt. The skirt was pulled up, though one couldn’t see much because her hand was in the way, her fingers fiercely at work on her clit. She was biting her lip, her back arching a little. Beyond anything else, the look in her eyes made one thing perfectly clear: She was certainly enjoying herself.


Bio: I’m a married father of two living in Washington state, though I grew up in New England. I have been working on a fantasy novel for years now but decided to try my hand at writing erotica (a therapist told me to keep my girlfriends on paper, so that’s what I’m doing). I enjoy writing because it is my escape from an otherwise mundane life.

Twitter | Smashwords

Random Facts About Yourself: I test bubble wrap for a living. I’m not joking, either.

May 17

Mischa Eliot

Adventures in Writing: Winding Path

Writing isn’t easy. It’s hard. It was never meant to be easy.

My writing history has been a winding path. Sometimes, I barrel off that path into the unknown, machete waving back and forth trying to forge my own way. And that’s how it should be. We should all find our own way of doing this thing. Creating universes from nothingness isn’t an easy thing. And in a way, that’s what we do. We create something from letters, painting pictures with pretty words, that cause someone to feel bliss or anger or freedom.

I’ll be honest with you. I don’t feel like I’m very good at this whole writing thing. I’m not fishing for compliments. I have read so many amazing stories over the years and sometimes, like others, I get that “why didn’t I think of that!?” feeling. We all get that. I also have a hard time finding books that I can keep reading these days, or listening to. Sometimes, it’s me. Other times, it’s definitely the book. I’m sure there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of people who love the books I want to throw out the window, so I don’t feel bad about it.

There are so many story ideas written down in my files, and I’m working on way too many things at once, procrastination is attached to me like a symbiotic parasite and some days I feel all tied up. Ropes and knots rub and chafe. I feel like there’s no way I can finish anything because there’s so much to do. I’ve been asked to write guest posts as well, which I have no idea what to do there, how to do it… It’s a little scary and so I haven’t done it. I want to write something sexy, something intriguing. Something that makes someone feel gooey inside like a melty chocolate chip cookie.

I’ve seen people quit. Whether temporary due to crazy stress with every day life, or just poof, vanish altogether, never to be seen again. I wasn’t called to writing. In fact, I still believe the universe, multiverse, deity, spirit, God… whatever you may call it, wanted me desperately to be a therapist of some kind. I’m way too sensitive for that and way too empathetic to be able to handle the emotional stress that would most likely come along with that and I continually say no. On the other side of the coin, I have a very difficult time telling some people to suck it the fuck up and quit whining. Then I want to quote Yoda and say Do or Do Not, There is no Try.

I write because I enjoy writing. I may not be great when it comes to sticking to a tense (always learning) but we all have our faults. I bet my 9th grade English teacher would be devastated knowing that I write. He was a nitpicker, but I learned more from him than anyone. I barely passed that class with a D, but I kept my notes from that class for years.


Basically, what I’m saying is either shit or get off the pot. Nothing in this world is truly easy to do – except giving up.

 

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