Forever Like This


It's late, and the night of dancing has left us exhilarated; tired in that way that makes you feel more alive than you do any other time. We wave goodnight to my housemates and shut my bedroom door.

Sam grins her impish grin at me. She'd gone for a goth look, this evening, ladling on heavy eye makeup and an old ripped denim jacket, before looking over at me and telling me there was no way I was going out in anything so dull - and made me up as her negative; her ghost in blue and white. She turns away, now, and stretches, letting the jacket drop to the floor, instantly getting lost amongst the clutter in the darkness, lit by the streetlight. I walk up behind and let my hands wander down the netting covering her belly, down past the tops of her thighs. I feel the tips of my nipples stiffen and shift slightly in my bra (still too big for me) and pull her body closer to mine.

She stands, listening to her body. It's been a long night, dancing, and maybe we should just sleep – but then she turns and kisses me, and advances forward, her hands to my shoulders as I step back over the invisible clutter, back until I'm touching the wall and her arms snake behind my head to wrap me in a hug, all the while kissing. Sam breaks free from my mouth and holds me properly, breathing in the smoky scent of my hair.

Into her ear I whisper: "I want you inside me."

She pulls back and looks me in the eye. Running her hands down-

"Oh, do you?"

-she pinches both of my nipples and twists so hard that I gasp and tense up against the wall. Diving in, Sam breathes slowly onto my neck and gently kisses me there, once. Into my ear she speaks, quietly, clearly and seriously.

"Then I think we should do something about that."

She steps back and I make a move towards the bed to find her hands on my shoulders, holding me gently in place. Fingernails run across my skin, the white silk barely deadening the sensation, as she begins to unbutton my blouse from the top.

I'm standing like a dummy, I realise, and move to stroke her. But as she feels me move towards her bra-strap, she smoothly rolls her hands around and takes my wrists. With another long kiss, she passes my left arm to her left hand, behind my back, and holds them there – again, gently.

Her right hand is freezing and a shudder runs across my skin as it scratches slowly across my back. She pinches open my bra and I twist my left hand free, needing to feel the touch of her torso.

She pulls back again, and looks me in the eyes. "Okay," she murmurs, taking my left hand and passing it behind my back again, "I'm pretty sure I know the easiest thing to do here."

Her right hand reaches for my desk to find the black roll of body-tape I keep, and her left hand has tightened its grip considerably. She, without fanfare, turns me away from her, parallel to the wall, and, with both of my arms held under her arm, wraps on ten slow layers of tape. The only sounds in the bedroom are of the tape unsticking from the roll, and my breathing, heavier and heavier.

Sam grabs my shoulders and spins me round to face her – I nearly trip sideways, but she has my shoulders again and suddenly I am pushed against the wall, harder this time. I shut my eyes and enjoy the feeling of her hands on my breasts; her tongue in my mouth. She leans back and grins an altogether different grin.

"I think that's better. Do you think that's better?"

"Ye-" and she twists my nipples again, so hard I moan. Emma will be able to hear me, downstairs. Sam kisses me and runs her hands to the scruff of my neck, pulling it tight with her clenched fist.

"I said, slavegirl, do you think that that's better?"

I go to answer again and with her free hand she twists. I don't care if you can hear me, Emma. Oh, God, Emma, I'm sorry I complained about Mike's groaning. Oh, God, I'm going to be sore in the morning.

There's a zip as my trousers are undone and hiked down over my bum, followed by my underwear. Her hand is so cold as it explores my crotch; my taped cock, held with more body tape; my anus. Oh, God.

"That's right," I hear in my ear. "I am your God." Have I been speaking? "Say that I'm your God."

I can't speak; I'm breathing too hard. Sam's other hand is still pinching my neck, holding me still, whilst her other is pulling away at the tape on my crotch, coming free. I sigh slightly as my balls slip into my scrotum again, to be immediately grabbed by the questing hand. Her breath is all that I can smell – she releases my neck to brush away my hair coming between our kisses. As if to remind me that she's in control, the grip on my balls tightens and I moan slightly at the pain. Yes, you are my God, Sam.

"You're so noisy tonight, slavegirl. Close your mouth." With the tape from my crotch, she removes both of her hands to wind it around my head, shutting off my mouth and, with the last remaining loops, going over my eyes as well.

I hear her step away to my desk and rummage. I feel her touch my thighs with the backs of her hands.

Lube! It's freezing and I jump away only for Sam to grab my balls with her oily hands and pull down firmly. If I won't settle, I lose them early, I think is the point. (If I weren't blindfolded I could see the date she'd circled in my calendar earlier: April 5th: Testicles off - no more AAs!). She's knelt down, and from below me, I hear her.

"I think this was what you wanted?"

Her left hand begins to rub my balls together, pulling and stretching my scrote down, whilst most of the lube, on her right hand, I feel being spread all over my anus. Her tongue slips up my shaft and her fingers enter me as her mouth warms me. I am filled; her fist clenches over my testicles again as another moan escapes my makeshift gag. With the wall cold against my shoulders, there comes a stab of discomfort as a third finger enters me; a fourth.

I can't keep my balance – the world is distorted under the yellow streetlamp, with my ankles bound by my trousers and no hands to steady myself, my muscles aching and the white light of pleasure from my prostate where my lover's hand is kneading inside me. I'm squealing now; quietly behind my gag I've lost control amongst the pleasure and the pain, and suddenly I can breathe through my mouth again. Sam has stood up and has her left arm encircling my shoulders; her right hand still completing me behind.

She whispers to me, in the darkness.


She inhales my scent, leaning forward and pressing herself against my lips – her tongue deep inside me as her fingers give me absolutely no choice as the brightness envelops my entire body. Leaning away, she snorts, slightly, with happiness. I love her completely, forever and ever.

"Good girl." She whacks me on the bum, making me sway dangerously in the debris of my room. "Bedtime!"

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