Creative Writing

A Short Story: Part Two

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  Mira woke up to the sound of the door buzzing.  Sore and out of it, she grabbed her robe and stumbled to the front door.  She pressed the intercom and asked who it was.  “It’s Toks.”  At that moment, yesterday came rushing back to her.  “Oh my God!!!!!,” she yelled.  She told Toks that it’d be just a minute and that Lanre was still sleeping.  Toks replied, “take your time.”

Mira ran to the room and looked around.  Their clothing and toys were strewn across the room.  Her corset laid haphazardly over the lamp on the end table.  Lanre’s shirt was in tatters on the floor.  The pole ends of their bed were now covered in grooves with one of the handcuffs still attached.  And then there was the whip.  The night Mira and Lanre shared was a forceful interplay of sexual hunger and violence. Mira’s eyes went to Lanre.  He was laid out on their bed on his stomach.  His back was covered in bite marks and there was a telltale handprint on his face where she smacked him. Lanre tried to pull a move on her after she explicitly told him, “not yet…slave.”  While he slept, Mira continued to examine her husband. Her eyes took notice of even more bruises on his forearms and thighs.  She asked herself, “did I really do that?”  Mira wondered what had gotten into her, but even more so, she wondered what was next.

She walked over to the bed slowly. Nervously at first, but then more self-assured.  She climbed onto Lanre’s back, licked his face all the way to his ear, and bit down.  Hard.  Lanre woke up and jumped clear across the room.  In his confusion, he looked around to grab the nearest weapon.  It was then that he realized Mira was standing calmly in the doorway. For a moment he was just dumbfounded, dazzled by her new beauty and prowess.  Her hair was mussed and hanging to her waist, her robe parted with no garment, save for a scrap of barely there underwear.  Her eyes had that drowsy “night of passion” look and her lips were swollen looking like they needed to be kissed.  Lanre stepped forward ready to do just that, however, Mira had something else on her mind.

“Get yourself together,” she said. Lanre did a double take.  Granted, he likes his S|M, but it was 8:00am on a Saturday morning.  All he wanted now was some serious sensuous loving.  “Mira, baby,” he moaned.  Mira laughed inside and thought to herself, “oh he’s in for it now.” She replied, “Don’t Mira baby me. Toks is downstairs.”  Lanre shouted, “CRAAAAAAAP!” As he located his duffle, Mira leaned languidly against the door and watched.  Her mind contemplated all the new titillating ways she could dominate her husband.  The shy, demure, boring lay of a wife was no more.

Lanre found his bag and attempted to leave their bedroom.  “Baby, I gotta go.”  Mira looked him up and down without a word.  She looked at the bruises visible on his forearm, then back into Lanre’s eyes. Mira whispered in his ear.  Lanre finally understood that this was no fluke.  He dropped his gear, opened their door, and rushed down to the bottom stairs of the condo in earnest. He approached Toks with a wild look in his eyes.  “Dude, I can’t make it.  Can you call the alternate?”  Toks yelled, “What the hell? You’ve been asking me to put you on for a YEAR?  I kept asking are you sure, are you sure?  Finally I get you in and you flake out?”  Lanre didn’t know how to explain that his wife was different, that now, she was everything that he wanted and needed.  He didn’t know how to explain that other than his wedding night, last night was the happiest night of his marriage.  Lanre was afraid of what could happen, what he would potentially lose, if he traveled down this road.

Toks stomped around muttering, seemingly unaware of Lanre’s distress while he thought out loud to himself.  Neither one of them noticed the figure behind them.  Toks turned to Lanre and said, “I’m pissed but guess I’ll call Chuck for the session.  He too likes being a submissive.”

Mira stepped out from the shadows and let out a distressed gasp.

TO BE CONTINUED.

© 2012 by Dollf8ced

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