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Public Consumption

Cover 200x300Chapter 18 – Public Consumption – Mine

Just a taste of my newly published book. Tell me what you think.

From the shower, I watch you walk by with clothes from my closet. I can’t see what you have in your hands, though. I hear you pull drawers open and shut them again, knowing you have by now learned where I keep stockings, bras, camisoles, corsets, garter belts and panties. I can only wonder what you are doing. I feel the slightest shiver run up my spine even as the hot water pours down my body, knowing you have plans for the day you haven’t shared.

I begin to shampoo my hair, eyes closed and head tilted back out of the water as I scrub my fingers into my scalp. I feel you step in behind me and push my hands down to my sides and take over. Turning me around to face you, tilting my head back to rinse the shampoo from my hair even as you reach for the loofah and pour soap across it. With deliberate motions, you run the loofah across every inch of me, first my arms then across and under my tits, down my belly and sitting down to lift each leg starting with my feet and working upwards, even running the rough loofah gently across the sensitive inner lips of my pussy causing me to twitch with the sensation. When you are done, you gently turn me and finish my back and push me back under the water, rinsing the soap from my body then hand me the loofah.

“You can help me shower, Cara. Don’t take too long though; we have things to do today.”

I follow the same path on your body; you had set on mine running the loofah across muscles, ribs and down your abdomen. I sit on the shower bench to take each foot onto my lap and massage soap up your calves and into your thighs avoiding only your balls and dick. My breath catches in my chest as your dick begins to harden in front of me daring me to wrap my lips around it and bath it with my tongue. Pouring more soap into the palm of my hand I reach between your legs, gently bathe your perineum before gently massaging your balls, covering them with soap from my hands then moving both hands to the base of your dick and stroking upward to cover you completely with soap, creating a slick friction. Covering your head with one hand, the other strokes down between your legs creates a cradle for your balls while placing pressure on your perineum. The hand holding your dick begins to stroke you, to clean you with soap and a tight hold from base to head and back, as I watch you. Soon your hips are moving to the rhythm I have set, a slow sensuous dance of hand and hip.

“Stop, woman. What did I say? No touching unless I tell you. You snuck this in. You are hardheaded.”

You reach down and pull me to my feet, turning me around as you do, grabbing the towel from the shelf you fold it and place it on the seat and push me back to me seat, this time with my back to you.

“Kneel there, Cara. Stay there ‘til I tell you otherwise. Hold on to the shelf and ass up.”

I can hear you behind me; I can’t see you. The steam from the shower isn’t enough to warm my skin, and it is cooling as I continue to kneel, still as you commanded. Suddenly your hand comes down on my ass, causing me to rise up, tears well up in my eyes and a flush spreads across both the cheeks of my ass and my face. Before I can relax, your hand comes down again this time across the other cheek, and again back to the first. My head drops onto my outstretched arms, I can feel the welts rising you deliver a final hard slap to my ass. The muscles of my thighs quiver to hold me where you have told me to stay as I swallow a sob.

“Now, Cara, will you behave?”

I can feel you leaning over me, your lips at my ear biting the lobe and then moving down pulling the skin at my neck. Your arm snakes around my waist pulling me tight against you, your hard dick slipping between my legs rubbing between the lips of my pussy and pushing against my clit. You are slick with soap and now with my juices as you rub back and forth across my clit, building friction until I am throbbing with need.

“Please, My, please I am sorry I broke the rules. Please I will behave. Please.”

“Please what, Dear? What do you want?”

“Please, Beloved Master, please fuck me!”

About Scarlett Baker

Writer, artist and thrill seeker. Scarlett is a mystery, even to herself at times. Her exploration of love stories with a touch of the dark began when she found herself single and dangling by a thread of hope mixed with a splash of the terrible. Faced with being alone for the first time in nearly twenty years, with not a clue what to do with a vast future she decided to explore the world of her fantasies, something she had done little of up until now.

One response »

  1. Mr. Militant Negro

    Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.



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