Warning - Mature. Not for the Faint of Heart.

Writing between the hours of 3 AM and 5 AM produced some very fetishized smut. Do not proceed if you are squeamish, morally disambiguous, suffering from a heart condition or opposed to really raunchy sex.



She pulled the thick velvet of her coat closer, huddling under the eerie white light of the cross that sat on the far outskirts of town. The stars twinkled above, and somewhere worlds away the white disco ball was dropping on the happy revelers of Times Square. They were laughing and partying, enjoying the thought of the new year that approached them. But she simply sat there in a white cotton dress, trying desperately to clench out the chill as she waited, waited only for him.


“Wait for me by the cross at midnight,” it had been days since he had uttered the words to her, his breath steaming against her ear. She had, at the time, tried to suppress the shudder that ran down her spine. Katherine had always projected herself as a strong, willful girl. Always spoiling for a fight, never the one to back down first. That had changed in the months since she had met Daniel.


The first time she'd met him, she'd engaged in her usual behaviors. Taunting, teasing and trying desperately to “out man” him. Competition was the only thing she had learned as the only girl in a large family. It was the only way she could think to impress him. Out think him, out run him, annoy him with her successes and never allow him to see her flaws. But the charade didn't last too long.


Some, like her husband, would accuse her of changing her personality to suit that of her intended's. But Katherine knew differently. Katherine liked to think that she knew herself, inside and out. She had a submissive side – a side that wanted nothing more than to be a slave to her master – greeting him at the door as he came home from work, waiting diligently with a glass of whiskey on the rocks, a hot dinner on the table, and an eager body ready to relieve the stresses of his day. Her husband cared naught for such things, and after as much was made apparent, she ceased to pursue them. He had no qualms; however, about her seeking out another partner to fulfill these fantasies.


Running a frozen finger through her auburn hair, Katherine couldn't believe she'd come to this point. They had asked Daniel to move in with them months ago – she and Daniel had been playing their quiet game of cat and mouse constantly ever since. But never in a million years did she think it would come to fruition. Never did the thoughts in her overly-worked brain think that it would culminate in this.


But there she was, dressed up and made up to look far more innocent than she was, waiting in the woods alone for the one who would come to claim her. Part of her wondered if it was a joke. Another part of her wished it was.


“Stand up.” The word trilled harsh through the crisp winter air. Katherine hadn't heard the crunch of the snowfall, hadn't noticed the change in light. She had no warning or clue that he had arrived.


Obeying his voice, she stood on legs that would better belong on an awkward, gangly youth. Nipped from the cold, she stumbled as she stood. Katherine turned to face Daniel, but kept her eyes averted. She feared she would cry at the sight of him.


Strong hands slid beneath her coat, brushing it from her shoulders. Katherine's roommate stepped back, appraising her with his eyes. She had dressed to his specifications that night. Every moment of preparation and every painstaking piece of care had been executed only with him in her mind. The soft knotted ponytail at the nape of her neck, the simple eyeliner that only served to accentuate her graying blue eyes, the white frilled summer sundress that was an anachronism in the snow. She wore nothing beneath the dress, and despite her vulnerability to the elements, was flushed with an internal heat.


Daniel let out a small grunt of approval, but still said nothing. Katherine's boots squeaked against a patch of ice as she shifted from one foot to the other, growing uncomfortable under his intense gaze. It was a gaze she had known time and again in these short few months, and one she had come to crave. No matter how much she had craved him, however, she had not been allowed to experience the fully glory that was Daniel.


Sure, there had been occasional moments of fevered passion, whispered fantasies late at night. But she had never been allowed to see him, feel him, touch him. Katherine could tell that he knew his game, and played it very well. She was practically bursting at the seams tonight, and it was all thanks to his carefully laid out scheme.


She lifted her gaze to look at him finally, the curves of her body beginning to shake from the chill. Her painted red lips, a whorish parody of the virginal outfit she wore, were poised to say something. Daniel took a step forward, and all thoughts of speech were lost. She felt stupid, she felt insignificant, she felt like a deer caught within the hunter's gaze and she liked it.


His tall form spun her around, catching her bare arm behind her. The cold bite of steel pressed against her throat as the object of her sexual torment marched her forward toward a small outcropping on the edge of the hill that held the town's most sacred monument.


Katherine bit back tears as she gazed up at the cross, the snowy spotlights throwing an eerie glow to the entire monument. How many times had she sat alone, praying to anyone who would listen that one day he would realize how much she loved him? How many times had she cried out those names, both sacred and profane, when he spurned her again and again? Was she really ready to do this on his terms? Her dignity was on the line, yes, but something far greater would break if she did not submit here and now.


“Please,” was her only whispered prayer this night. She did not know if she was asking her companion or the representation of the deity who towered above them. It didn't much matter as a slap cracked across her cheek, sending sparks of red haze swarming across her vision.


He pushed her onwards, edging her against the knife when he could and reveling in her pathetic mewls of discomfort when she stumbled and caused the blade to bite into her skin. “You wanted this,” he growled, echoing her own thoughts. Yes, she had wanted this. She had denied it, but she wanted it at any cost.


He chuckled as he removed the blade, but it was mere moments before she was tossed to the ground like a child's doll. She sprawled on the ground, trying desperately to keep her composure, some modicum of grace. He loomed above her. Without a word and without ceremony he unzipped his pants.


She scrambled to rise to her knees, the hem of her dress catching on a thorn from the dead foliage that surrounded them. Her lips rose to meet his cock, her studded tongue flicking a tentative hello. Daniel's hands entwined in her hair, shoving her mouth to accept him – all of him. She coughed and gagged, trying to accommodate the sudden intrusion. He merely laughed his characteristic laugh – deep and silent that shook his whole body. Were it not for the tremors of his loins, she would have never guessed his amusement.


Katherine's eyes welled with tears as she forced herself relentlessly upon him, caring little for intricacy or technique. Her whole body trembled with the effort, her whole consciousness devoted solely to this one activity. She accepted his cock as deep into her mouth as she could. When she reached her limit, he took over, thrusting and grinding against her and forcing her limits.

An eternity could have passed in the near silence. He grew tired of her mouth after what felt like an eternity. He pushed her away again. Though the command of silence was unspoken between them, Katherine could not help but yelp in displeasure. The sudden onslaught of him – the smell that was so intrinsic to his being, the warmth that kept her own juices flowing, the pleasure she derived from that one simple act was taken away in a second.


“Don't say a word, slut.” Daniel's word stabbed her deep to the core. Silent tears fell from her eyes now, a mixture of anticipation and delightful humiliation. He pressed her down to the ground, holding her wrists with just one of his hands. The knife that had marked her flesh earlier returned, slicing down the front of her dress.


Her breasts sprang free of their confinement, nipples standing at attention. Tiny silver rings glinted in the diffuse evening light. Daniel's mouth explored these toys that were so prominently displayed for his pleasure, and his pleasure only on this night. His teeth tugged at Katherine's nipple rings causing her back to arch upwards, pressing her body closer to his.


With the tap of a knife blade against one of her most vulnerable areas, Katherine spread her legs wide, exposing her dripping, hairless pussy to him. His teeth continued to mount their affectations upon her, causing her to yip and yelp every so softly. She snagged her bottom lip with her teeth, trying to suppress the sounds.


Daniel looked down at her, the epitome of the dominant male. His broad shoulders loomed over her now vulnerable and shaking form. “What do you want, you little slut?” The words danced on spirals of warm breath, bridging the gap between them.


“I want you,” she stammered, the words barely able to escape. “I want to be your slut, your slave, your toy. I want you as my Master. I want you as my Lover. I want you as all of the things in this life that are possible, no matter how improbable – friend, partner, father to my children.” The tears welled up in Katherine's eyes. She hated to admit that last statement. She hated to admit need, hated to admit defeat to him. Hated that she wanted something so mundane – so feminine. Hated to admit that, if he asked her, she would surrender herself to him completely. She hated herself most of all for wanting it so badly.


She continued, breathless. “I want you to possess me, control me. I want you to mold me as you see fit, to serve your purposes and desires. I want you to take what is rightfully yours, that you have earned through a battle of wits – my mind, my body, my soul and my heart.”


Daniel traced the blade in patterns down her chest, pressing deep enough only to allow her the barest of sensations, idly tracing circles and spirals as he contemplated her words. “I will take you, Katherine. I will mark you and claim you. It will not be pretty, and it will not be pleasant. I will stay with you, but not as a lover, and not as a friend. I will take what I want of you, when I want it. When I am done,” he spoke these words very carefully and deliberately, “You will know exactly what it is like to be alone.” He emphasized each word with a small flick of the knife, passing dangerously close to the soft flesh of her pussy.


She nodded, not bothering to hide the tears as they stood. She would do this for him. Her heart raced more than once. She would do this because she cared entirely too much for him, and he cared naught for her – not in the long term.

“You will become so accustomed to my touch, my needs, my demands,” he continued “That you will anticipate them before I ever have occasion to voice them. You will be rewarded with my release, and you will learn to accept that this is the path you have chosen in life – whores don't get to choose. You will come to crave my touch, and you will await each release like the little bitch in heat that you are. You will become addicted to me, and need me in a way that no addict has needed a drug before. Do you understand?” His eyes locked upon hers, the knife resting precariously at the entrance to her pulsing cunt.


Katherine nodded. “Yes, Master.” She forced the words out from the last reserve of her strength. This is what she wanted, an aspect of it anyway. She had already voiced her wants, her desires, her silly misguided fantasies. Katherine had wished against odds that he would come around, that they could build a life, albeit an unconventional one. She hoped against logic that he would choose her as his, and that they would continue on.


From time to time, Katherine saw images of this life flash before her eyes in a daydream state. The ceremony that would bind them. The days passing on as her stomach swelled with his child. The look of pride as she produced a son for him, the child's eyes, endless pools of brown that looked so like his father's. The fantasy was a joyous monotony she had never desired from anyone before. The thoughts soon passed as cold, hard reality set in. This was as close as she could and would ever get to that life.


Daniel set the knife aside and held her down by her throat, causing her vision to waver. He entered her then, without any further ceremony. He grunted as he struggled, her inner walls clenching against him. Despite the copious amounts of lubrication already present, he had a hard time breaching her initial defenses.


She moaned loudly, spearing herself on his cock. She wiggled beneath his grip, trying to take more of him, and more, until the very tip of him was banging against the entrance to her womb. She wanted to take every inch of him into her, regardless of whether it wrecked her. Daniel's hand moved from her neck to her mouth, stifling her noises of desire.


Inch by torturous inch he sank himself into her. She looked up at him, her eyes as wide as moons. Her body fought against his, not to escape but to fall further towards him. He began to thrust into her, over and over again.


Katherine writhed on the end of his cock, unable to control her pleasure. She had sacrificed her last remaining shreds of pride for this moment, her last existing shards of dignity. She whimpered, riding the wave of pleasure that Daniel's cock induced. She barely felt the sting of the knife as he began to carve a small design above her breast. She didn't care what it was – she would have given him that and more.


Blood and tears now fell freely from Katherine's body. Daniel continued thrusting ceaselessly into her, taking his pleasure and ignoring her's. It was not hard for Katherine to feel pleasure – it happened almost instantly. Even with thorny, frozen debris piercing her icy skin, Katherine was still only moments away from release.

“What's the matter, slut? Can't handle it?” Daniel's voice was a growl edged with the hardest of edges. His hand absently stroked her cheek, leaving Katherine a small dab of her own blood to mark her face. He grinned then, a grin of pure menace. His fingertips played over the newly formed cut on her body, causing the sting left by the blade to flare to life in a cacophony of fire and lime.

His fingertips played across her lips, and Katherine's eager tongue darted out to taste herself. It was this moment that set her over the edge.


“Please!” she whispered again with hushed urgency, sucking on his sticky fingers, cleaning every last drop of blood from them. “Please,” she whimpered, pushing herself against his every thrust, meeting him stroke for stroke. Her back arched up, her hands clenched into fists.


Daniel reveled in the sight of her – naked, vulnerable, helpless and broken. He gritted his teeth and let out a grunt of his own. Hot, thick ropes of semen poured into Katherine's waiting body. She let out a subhuman howl, a scream that seemed to shake the forest. Her body clenched around his, as though trying to pull him closer and closer, no matter how futile it was.


Her breath was labored, and she collapsed back against the ice covered ground. After a moment, Daniel stood and tidied himself. He had managed to not get blood on his clothing, and had managed to pull himself together in record time.


Daniel chuckled. “Have fun walking home. When you get there, that asshole is mine”.


Katherine sat in a daze for a little while, her fingers playing over the mark that was carved in her chest, just above where she thought her heart used to be. With movements as slow and as fluid as molasses, Katherine began her long walk home, wondering how she would explain she had compromised herself. Wondering what her husband would think. These thoughts were soon chased from her mind, as the stirrings of desire to have her Master inside of her again took hold. She trudged home, not caring that the only scrap of clothing she had to shield her on her walk was her threadbare jacket.