Saturday, October 27, 2012

Confessions From Lady Wycked & Kirby


How It Feels - Kirby Deed

You said “Stroke My cock, boy”. Do You know how it feels when You command it? I become a man with something to prove and a boy that only wants to please.

You say “I like it when you stroke My cock for Me.”. Do You know how it feels when You remind me of my own loss…the loss of free will? I become a man that wants to fight You and a boy that needs to thank You for allowing.

You said “Beg for it.”. Do You know how it feels when You demand it when it used to be mine? I become a man with resentment and a boy that gladly complies with Your every instruction.

You said “Cum for Me.” You said it 13 times yesterday. Do You know how it feels to give You what was my choice before? At that moment, I am simply Your man, Your slut, Your puppy, Your bitch, and mostly Your boy. When You speak those three words, it pierces my gut. I can feel a wave that starts right behind my ears. Hear that roar? It travels down my spine all within seconds. My balls suck up like shore does right before the wave crashes into the banks. The power causes my eyes to close. That wave carries everything. My despair, problems, complications, and even the small daily routines. “Cum for Me.” My hips push forward and the wave becomes hot…red hot like the head of Your shaft. Veins pop up, and a guttural rumbling emerges in the form of my voice. Animalistic panting.  The sensation hits, the release, all of it leaves my body and lands on my chest. The tsunami You created brings an earthquake that rocks my core, and the aftershocks leave me whimpering and thanking You for the release. It is a perfect storm in my body that gives way to a new light. It reminds me. I belong to You. I need You. I want You. I desire You. You are my everything. It feels like hope, promise, and safety. The man vanishes to leave behind only the boy that adores You.


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Taking What's Mine - Wycked Kytten

Of course I command it, it's MINE. You gave it to me a month ago, and I'm soooo not done with it. Or you. Of course I command that you stroke it for me… each pass of your hand along my cock builds inside you a fire of need, need that only I can satisfy. And that translates into something delicious for me to feed on. You the man and his fight to prove something is the gravy making the inevitable surrender all the more sweet.

I don't like it when you stroke my cock for me, I fucking love it. It feeds this carnal basal part of me. It turns me on like nothing else, it can awaken my cunt from the slumber of daily distraction within a handful of strokes. I LOVE listening to the way your breathing hitches how your voice gets smaller. I can't wait to watch you on your knees before me. I even enjoy you fighting it and LOVE when you thank me for letting you stroke my cock for me.

Mmmmmm and when you beg me… bits inside me swell. The obvious sexual bits and other less physical bits. My pride grows, my heart expands, and my essence swells bridging the space between you and I swallowing up your very being. Beg me to let you touch my cock. Beg me to let you cum. Beg me to let you stop. Beg me to direct - you period. It's like an electrical current direct from your begging desperate lips to my hot wet cunt.

When I say "cum for me" I've satisfied myself with telling you "no" and stalling you out is no longer of interest. When I say cum for me, it's usually followed up directly with a "NOW!", because that's when I want it. And you, my beautiful boy, you are so fucking skilled at giving me what I want when I want it. Who knew you could cum for me on command, repeatedly? When I decide to take my pleasure from you, you open up to me exposing the outlet that I plug into connecting our two ancient selves. Ancient selves that were formed somewhere in childhood and adolescence and the lives we lived before. Parts of ourselves that have been found at home within each other.

When I reached inside you the other day and ripped not one but 13 gut wrenching ground shaking orgasms from you, it was all too crystal clear what you are. You ARE my man, my slut, my puppy, my bitch, and mostly my boy. In those moments I felt something more than just cum and orgasm (in the end without cum even) being separated from your body… I felt you. I felt the man that still fancies himself "da boss" clinging to it - fighting. However, we both know, between you and I that big strong man, and he really is big and strong, but we both know that man is no match for me. And deep down and honestly it's why the man adores me so much, because even when he wants to resist he cannot.

Knowing that does things to me. Hearing the orgasm tear and explode from your body does things to me as well. Hot things. Wet things. The other day you came 13 times for me… I thought "given his age and horniness today I could easily get 7 out of him but will shoot for 8 because that would be twice his previous personal best". But I kept demanding and you kept providing. Over and over again, not twice but thirteen times. Each certainly more challenging than the previous. Until finally numbers 11 and 12 were all sensation and no semen. We discovered together that you are capable of multiple orgasms, well at least with me taking them from you. What I've yet to discover is the point in which you simply cannot give me what I require. I wonder if said place exists? I am utterly dedicated to researching such topics with you.

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