Late Payments

Ms. Nuit was waiting in the elevator. Her jacket was partially open. I could see those dark breasts that so much of my seed has touched but I never have. Today I could tell that her bra was blue.

"We had an arrangement," she said.

I nodded. "I haven't see you lately." It was true. When Gina was staying with me, Ms. Nuit seemed to disappear. Months went by and I never saw her. I thought she had become bored with me.

"That is not my problem," she said. She came over to me as the elevator rumbled downwards. She reached for my pants and grabbed the bulge that was growing there.

"You are behind on your payments," she hissed. Her breasts pressed against my chest. I would have given anything for both of us to be topless.

"when do you want me to make them up?" I asked.

"Right anwser," Ms. Nuit said. "Come by the office tomorrow morning, at 7 am."

I groaned. "I need to be at work by 8."

She squeezed my bulge painfully. "Call in sick that day. Call in sick, or you won't have a place to sleep tomorrow."

The elevator chime rang. She released my cock and stepped away from me. The doors opened and residents filed in. No one suspected a thing.

My cock has been hard all day long.

They Carried Him Away

I saw a kidnapping today. It scared the shit out of me. I mean, you see it all the time on the news but this was so different. This was happening ten feet away from me.

I was at the train station waiting for train to work. There was about six of us waiting underground. We were shivering because you dress for the insane heat outside but they have the air conditioners cranked up to arctic temperatures. We were all standing apart from another trying not to make eye contact.

I saw the women first. There were four of them and they were wearing red leather jackets and ragged blue jeans. Their leader had a short purple mohawk on her other bald head. The other three girls were bald. I say girls because they all had those skinny bodies that only teenagers possessed. Their jackets were open to reveal small bras holding smaller breasts.

The leader though, she was something different. I think she was their age but her eyes were so much older. They were brown and when they looked at me, I could feel the anger radiating off them. She had a metal stud in her nose that looked like a little spike. Her bottom lip was bruised like she had just been punched. When she looked at me, she licked her swollen lip.

She walked past me, her head turning to look at me. She narrowed her eyes, looking for something in me that I didn't have. As she walked by I saw some sort of patch on her jacket shoulder. It looked like black unicorn, rising up on it'ss back two legs.

They walked past me and straight to a guy who was ten feet down the platform. They didn't say anything as the leader walked up to behind the man. He looked away and she pulled her hand out of her jacket. She was carrying metal rod about eight inches long. She hit him in the back of the head. The sound of it hitting his head echoed in the quite station.

The guy went down. The other three girls started kicking the shit out of him. The tips of their boots flashed silver as they kicked him. The guy kept trying to stand and they would just kick him back down. Part of me wished he would stay down and maybe they would stop kicking him.

Their leader just watched. For that matter, so did everyone else. I think we were too shocked. Either that or just too afraid.

The leader snapped her fingers and the kicking stopped. They reached down and started ripping his clothes. They dismantled his shirt and pants like he was an animal that they were skinning. With each strip of cloth they ripped off, one of them would use the strip to restrain the poor guy. They bound his hands behind his back, they secured his ankles to his knees and they used his socks to gag him.

Once he was trussed up, the three girls picked their prey up like he was an over sized suitcase. I was a little curious how they were going to go up the stairs and through the pedestrian exit. Instead of going that way, they headed to one of the dozen doors I see every day in the train stations. It was marked with those fearsome red letters that warned that only authorized people were allowed in but the gang just opened it and entered some sort of dark hallway. I was taken by calmly they did it, like that was what those off limit doors were for.

The train arrived a minute later. I got in it and it was only when I sat down that I realized I was shaking. Who were those girls? What did they do with their victim? Why did their leader choose him?

Why didn't she choose me?

He Cuts Her Breasts

I want to tell you about what happened today. Ms. Kellar was a thin woman with sharp angle cheekbones. Her frosted blonde hair peeked out from under her hat, looking more like an accessory for her beautiful hats than actual hair. She always wears a thin coat that cloaks her body from collar to ankles.

She needed her brassieres repaired. There were three of them, black satin with white fringes. All of them were cut. I am used to seeing tears or torn seams where wear and tear stress the bras but these were sharp lines caused by an edge. They had been sliced and I saw blood on the material.

I didn't say anything. Mr. Everett always said that since we deal with our clients' most intimate apparel, we had a duty to refrain from asking about their lives. Discretion is a clothier's greatest asset.

Ms. Kellar told me anyway. "He uses a knife. He carries it with him always. When he is angry, or just aroused, he cuts through my clothes. Sometimes he cuts me."

I didn't know what to say. "Who?" I asked. "Are you in trouble?"

Ms. Kellar smiled. "My lover cuts me. And yes, I am in trouble, but there is nothing you can do about it."

She unbuttoned the top button of her coat. She unclasped another, and another. She revealed a black blouse, which she pulled down. Leaning towards me, I looked down her blouse and onto her pale breasts. The ugly line of a cut marred her pale breast. The line of the cut dipped between her cleavage and out of my sight.

"See?" she said. Her tone implied that she wanted me to understand.

"I see," I said though I did not understand.

"Can you fix them?" Ms. Kellar asked.

I looked at the frail brasseries. The material was expensive and hard to work with. I could mend it though. When I am finished with them, you would never know they had been cut.

"Yes ma'am," I said.

Ms. Kellar buttoned her coat back up. I wondered what other cuts lurked below. I wondered what things her lover did after he cut her.

I wondered if she liked it.

I Was a Throne

I'm back. I never left I guess but I met somebody and well, fucking her was better than blogging about fucking.

That is why I stopped writing at first but in time, I stopped writing because Gina would suck all of time into herself. I didn't sculpt. I didn't write. I barely did my job. My life was Gina's.

That sounds bitter but I'm really not. Gina was like a knight in shining armor. She remind me of King Arther's secret lover, Dame Lanca of the Lake. Gina protected me. She kept away my dark landlady. she promised to help me get a better job. She held me when the glass cleaners would whisper my name. Gina was my heroine.

She wanted to be my keeper.

Gina kept me inside the apartment any moment I wasn't working. At first I delighted in it, for she walked around my apartment in the nude. Her golden hair lit up my life. Her pale skin was like a beacon in a city so dark. It was months before I realized that she was a glittering prison of gold hair and ivory thighs.

She hated going out. She never wanted to go to the theater or the park. She barely could tolerate me talking about work. Gina's world consisted of me and her and for a brief time that was good.

She always wanted to fuck. Gina was always happiest when she was on top of my cock. She would sit upon my cock like it was throne. Her thighs would hug my hips like I was her mount. Her fingerstips would grze my chest hair, idly dragging her nails across my chest.

I would try to reach up to cup those pale breasts but she refused me. Her pink nipples were to be seen, not sucked. Her nipples were to be admired, never kissed. Her nipples existed for her adornment, never for my tongue.

Slowly she would rock back and forth as if holding court. She never humped me. Gina would never deign to do something so low. She would sit, lean and sometimes reposition. Her pussy would encompass my cock and nothing more. She would soak my cock with her desire but my thrusts were always discouraged.

I always found a way. If she leaned left, I leaned right. If she squeezed, I would thrust. It would take an hour of slow accidental fucking but I would build up my excitement till I could wait no longer. In the absence of vigorous fucking, I learned to climax from the smallest motions. On sensitive days, I would cum from the motion of her breathing alone.

I don't know if she ever climaxed. When I came, Gina would frown. It was a frown filled with disappointment and resentment. I never understood why. She refused my questions.

Gina left me. There was no reason offered. She took her clothes and left. She still had that look of disappointment. She asked little of me and yet I still failed her. That might be too harsh. I think the fact that I could not divine her displeasure was my flaw. Gina needed her own loyal knight to rescue her from the dragons only she knew about.

This is better. I feel free and I did not even know I was imprisoned. I see the stone that I had bought waiting for me. I saw Ms. Nuit lurking in the hallway. I am looking forward to work on Monday. I want to be part of the city again. There are adventures in Atlantica and I somehow feel that I was almost abducted by Gina away from this fabled city.

I want to live.