Cuckquean Stories – No1 Hit the Jackpot with love

I’ve been told to masturbate, & write down what I fantastise about..

I’m your sub, your fucktoy, pet, animal on a leash..

You enter the room, & I am naked before you, hands by my side, ready to await your command

I quiver at the though of the things you might do to me..

You run me through positions.. Hands behind my back.

Hands behind my back, legs spread! I hear you command WIDER!

“It all started when the insurance company refused our claims till we bought that damned autoclave.”
Muffy was lying on the floor spreadeagled. “Finish stitching me up Chahhlie. Then we’ll straighten this poor girl outin Cuckquean Stories.”
I cinched he up tight, till her clit popped up like toast on a Sunday morning Cuckquean Stories.

“That should last a few weeks muffy. Till you’re ready to take that big dildo we bought in the Cuckquean Stories.”

“The one that you’ve been using as a foot stool Chalrles? Its huge!! its a Cuckquean Stories”

“Have to set a good example for your sister sub Cuckquean Stories!”

“Right you are Charles. i’ll try not to pass out this time!”
I collared Cuckquean Stories sister-sub and we led her to the bedroom.

“A quick golden-shower to wash the smell of squirrels off her and lets nail her nipples to the head-board so she doesnt run off in the night.”

“Good thinking Charlie. I have to piss something awful and Im going to need someone to lick around all that fishing line. Cant be too clean now can we Challie?”

“Right you are Cuckquean Stories. Look, her nipples are all big and perky. I think she’s excited about being nailed!”

“Theres hope for this one yet Charlie!”

“What do you think Ess ESS SEA…Ess Ess Sea!..means?”

“Havent the foggiest Challie. Maybe its a boat name or something. Let me find the box of nails and that hammer. What about alcohol?”

“No…I think we should be sober this time muffy. That crucifixion scene seemed like a great idea after 5 martini’s, but we dont want a repeat of THAT one now…”

“Good thinking Charles, that was a sticky wicket that one!”

More Cuckquean Stories

Xerini’s masters and mistresses had decided that she was to be whipped that night in the Cuckquean Stories, but as she was led into the room she was confused at what she saw. Instead of simply a whipping post, she saw a frame on which a male slave had been mounted. Beside him were two slaves that were half-kneeling, crouching beside the St Andrew’s cross on which he was mounted.

They leaned against his legs and caressed them while they lightly teased his thighs with soft bites. They stroked and playfully kissed the slave’s cock with little teases and with light strokes of their lips against the head.

As she drew closer, she could see that a cock and ball harness kept his member rigid. The girls teased so that he would be kept aroused, torturing him as they would touch and move away over and over, never letting his pleasure build beyond keeping him erect.

In the slave boy’s eyes was a wild look of lust and torment. He looked as though he had been tortured for many hours until he was mindless with his lust, and yet no words could come from his mouth, for he was gagged with a ball gag.

She could hear only moans from his throat as he struggled on the frame. The allowed the two to make eye contact only briefly before covering the slave boy’s eyes with a leather blindfold that they buckled tightly.

The girls then made room as the grooms led Xerini to him, and then she realized what was to happen, as the grooms that held her suddenly took hold of her body and lifted it from the floor. One of the girls held the slave’s cock in one hand with a small laugh as the two grooms mounted her onto the bound slave’s cock.

She felt herself filled by the rigid shaft with a small thrill, her legs wrapping instinctively around the boy’s hips to cling to him as she felt herself stretched and impaled upon it.

Her legs and arms were bound to hold her in place, impaled by the cock as she was, and her face was inches from the slave boy’s face as the strap after strap was used to bind them tightly together until she could barely move, each struggle of either of the slaves sending a little thrill of erotic desire into her as the slave boy’s erect member shifted within her.

Her head leaned forward, nuzzling against the slave boys neck instinctively seeking some comfort from what was to come.

It was a torture in itself as she waited, barely able to feed her own pleasure with the cock that held her impaled and trapped, the straps and bindings keeping her helplessly bound to the male slave. A torture for them both as she felt his body twisting and flexing as he tried to appease his own lust.

She let little moans out as she began to try to move, to fuck the cock that tortured her now, wanting more.. wanting anything… and she heard the sounds of his moans with each little struggle of her body.

And her whipping began then, swats of the flogger against her ass and legs. And when the tips of the whip’s tails snapped against her inner thighs and against her sex, she could tell that the boy was being punished also.

The girls and the grooms took turns, and the whip landed against her bottom and against the slaves balls with equal torment so the two shared in the punishment of the whip’s kisses as well as the torment of being so mounted, the slight squirms of their body insufficient to drive their pleasure beyond the constant tease.

But still the two slaves moved, struggling to ride each other, squirming from the stings of the whips as the girls and the grooms laughed and coaxed them to fuck. Promising to stop if they both could cum for Cuckquean Stories.

The two slaves were amusements for the grooms as they were punished in Cuckquean Stories. As the night wore on, they squirmed against each other, their bodies writhing and caressing at all once, whimpering and whispering little pleas for the boy to cum for her…

The slave boy struggled, wanting to release, the harness holding his orgasm as they both struggled and worked for each other’s pleasure in the Cuckquean Stories, the sting of the whips adding to the frustration of their pent up lust.

Throughout the night, the torture and punishment went on for Cuckquean Stories, the two slave’s bodies covered in a sheen of sweat as they were whipped and worked past exhaustion, their trainers swatting them harder whenever they seemed to begin to succumb to fatigue and their struggles began to subside in the least.

It is unusual, quiet, eerie dark; but I don’t know if it is calm before the storm or the one just after the battle. Sithen has decided it is time for rest so it made its chambers dark, bathing the gardens in cold blue moonlight.

It was only hours since we worked magic, danced to rhythm of our desires, but I lay awake, motionless in the big, black silk covered bed, and listen to His breathing. He sleeps like a King, spread eagle in peaceful, deep, dreamless rest.

Sliding carefully to the floor, I make my way to the chair, folding legs beneath me, pulling the fur close to my body, not for warmth but for comfort, I am watching Him sleep. I love to watch Him sleep; still not believing it is Him, Mistral, Lord of Storm and Winds. My Lord! I am watching moonlight playing shadows on taut muscles, long gray hair spilled like liquid silver around Him.

The air is filled with the heavy scent of sage. Closing my eyes, inhaling deeply, remembering evening: His need, our passion. Deep in my body starts ripple, memory alive. Heat rising, urge to feel Him, to taste him, to convince myself He is mine!

Quietly, I move like a shadow, to the head of the bed. Leather straps lay discarded on the floor … just what I need! With feather touch, nothing more than butterfly kiss, I tie the leather to his wrist and to the bedpost. First one, than the other hand. I smile and move to His feet, which I secure to the bottom bedposts. This time I will have Him on my terms!

I lie between His legs and inhale His warm, male aroma. With closed eyes I touch my cheek to His leg, lightly, just feeling soft caress of His heat. Laying on my stomach with my arms imprisoned under my breast, I cannot resist… my tongue darts and licks, my taste buds feasting on his sweet skin.

He moves, still asleep, and pulls on his bonds. The sleep clears His led colored eyes quick and He attempts to get up, reach for His sword. I lie motionless between His legs ready to move fast if my bonds are not strong enough to hold Him. But I did a good job and slowly He quiets down to assess the situation. As He looks around His eyes find my gaze from between His feet. I can see the relief wipe the tension for a moment, just to be replaced by anger.

“red! What is this? Release me!” His voice is low growl, vibrations causing me to suck in air, while deep inside, my muscles clench on emptiness.

I smile at Him, wordless, rubbing my cheek to his leg like a lazy cat. With my eyes half closed I run my tongue down His leg, leaving wet trail of goose bumps. Despite His protests I can feel Him relaxing as His gaze burns my skin. I slither down the cool sheets, and rub my nose up His sole. With my face almost hidden behind his foot I look at Him with smiling emerald eyes.

“No. No. NO!” He hisses as my tongue darts at his toes. I take them in my mouth one by one, bathing them carefully, suckling and nibbling on them until He stops tensing and pulling on his bonds. His breath quickened and He is looking at me silently through his half closed eyelids.

First flickers of power dance through His body, raising fine hairs on mine. Low in his throat a sound, growl, causing rumble of distant thunder somewhere in the hallway.

This is what the dreams are made of, magic in touch, primeval forces turning matter into energy, as I climb the bed, without looking I can feel His body shining, dim white light making its way out, through his skin.

I have always been drawn to uncontainable force of storm, tingling energy riding on the wind as the rain approaches.

To ride a Storm …

Rubbing my hot skin over His stretched body, feeling Him hard on my face, closing eyes and luxuriating in the exquisite touch of that silk soft, rock hard shaft on my cheek. With my hands on each side of His hips, I rest my eyelids against His soft testicles, enjoying the warm scent of our co-mingled essences.

My tongue slowly makes its way over silky line of perineum, only to find the hard, swollen ball in its tightening sack. Sucking it in my mouth I play with it as if it was hard toffee, the sound of the thunder is approaching and my long red hair starts floating on the cool breeze.

The energy starts pushing against me, air smelling of ozone. He is utterly still underneath me, taut like strung bow.

My skin tingles as my stomach churns in anticipation, fear rising. My eyes shoot open looking for anything familiar in this blast of light.

His hair has turned brilliant white making halo of rays around Him. His eyes bleed to led silver of stormy sky crisscrossed with flashes of lightning.

The thunders are ripping sounds, shaking the walls of our room. Locked in his eyes I am blind to anything else, deafened by the thunders that reflect my own need,

I straddle Him lowering myself slowly, accommodating the engorged head, letting my self slide carefully down, feeling stretched, spread open. Not being able to lower myself all the way down I raise hearing His growl of disapproval.

My time, my tempo, my pleasure …

His need, His demand, His heat!

“UNTIE ME!!!” He bellows reading Cuckquean Stories, but I am too far gone, my need taking over, there is no rational thought left, only feeling of burning, needy flesh during Cuckquean Stories.

From the corners of my eyes, the darkness enters, carrying shiny blades of Cuckquean Stories. Cold fire replaced by thick heat bathing my back as his black hair spreads like cape covering us both in the Cuckquean Stories. Frozen in mid movement, my senses confused

I watch, as in slow motion, while blades cut bonds holding Mistrals arms. Wrapping his hands around my wrists, Doyle forces my arms behind my back, grabbing them both in his one hand, folding them in the small of my back, leaving me no option but to lean into his embrace.

My brain is turning into mush… over-stimulated… to much input… where did he come from? Mistral rising.. His hands finding my breast… NO! this is not what I want … no … need! I need this, I need them, both! Time?! There is no time … don’t waste time in the Cuckquean Stories! Take me! Fill me!

Did I say that out loud? Did they hear you say Cuckquean Stories?

Mistrals mouth closes around my nipple pulling it into his hot mouth, drawing on it, finding that un-existing thread that connects it to the center of my uterus, making it contract, as if trying to grab onto something that should be there, expecting Cuckquean Stories?

Doyles free hand holds my head to the side, baring my neck to his scorching lips, teasing tongue, sharp teeth. I draw his finger into my mouth and start sucking on it as I would on that hard black shaft resting between my ass cheeks just out of the reach to my imprisoned hands.

With slow deliberate movement Doyle draws me upwards. “NOOOO,” my mind screams Cuckquean Stories ” to far, no! don’t take me off Him!”.

But it is not my choice, not my game any more! As he pulls me off, in the very next moment he forces me down on his own cock of Cuckquean Stories, bathing himself in my juices that are now flowing freely, coating his as well as Mistrals shaft.

Caught between two fires, whipped by stormy winds for the Cuckquean Stories, I scream soundless, absorbed in senses.

Doyle pulls me upwards once again, leaving me empty, gasping, only to force me down, feeling them both entering me at the same time, filing both orifices, I throw my head back, this time air escapes piercing the minute thunder-less silence.

As I slide down Mistral hits the cervix sending sharp pain up my spine in the Cuckquean Stories. I open my eyes and see Him grin moment before his mouth close on my own blurring my vision.

Mistral holds me in long, deep kiss, feasting on me, on my pain, fear, struggle, while Doyle starts languid moves in and out, rubbing Mistrals member through the thin wall separating them.

Blind and deaf to anything outside the Cuckquean Stories, all my senses concentrated to feeling in my belly, the center of two men desire enveloped in hot-cold power I break from the kiss gasping for air as my pleasure explodes triggering them, bringing them to the peak.

I can feel their essence bathing my insides as the storm reaches its peak in the Cuckquean Stories crescendo of stones falling around us, opening the ceiling to blue light of the moon.
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