Flash Fiction, Passion's Invocation, Psychological Fiction, Tuesday Teasers

Love is Blind

Love is Blind

Price

Photo From:

https://luisspeaks.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/the-reverse-beauty-bias

He didn’t know what it was like. He couldn’t have. He couldn’t have known what his ugliness had done to her. He had never felt anything deeply, never gripped onto the last flicker of a flame, never held onto hope for dear life just to have it coldly snuffed out.

At the time, she couldn’t fathom that this was the work of the same man she’d loved so very dearly. Standing alone in the pitch with tears falling onto a still warm candle, too fearful to let go, Michaela prayed that it might flicker back to life at least long enough to run for the safety of light which, in reality, she knew did not exist.

Barefoot on cold cement, Michaela turned to look hopefully back over her shoulder but was met with the thick, merciless stillness, filled with no hope, no sense of proximity or direction, no stability nor love, and nothing to hold onto, just stagnant suffocating air. There, she stood frozen, with wax candle growing cold in her hands as she slipped to the floor shivering.

Michaela was naked, stripped of pride, belief, love and trust. Daniel had thrust her into empty, echoing aloneness because she had given all of herself. Now her everything was gone. He had turned his back on all of it, relegating her to the icy vice-grip of nothing else in her world that mattered as much.

Not a soul knew that she was locked in a basement below ground. No windows would save her come daylight. No one; no family nor friend, no love was coming to her rescue. Solitary penalty, she thought, as hope spilled down her cheeks.

A chill slid up her spine seizing her throat and a distant scream split the air, growing louder and more intense, until it surrounded her. Michaela twisted her neck turning to look and hoping her eyes would adjust, but then remembered how she had come to this moment, in this solitary place, and realized that the screaming came from her.

Michaela dropped the candle and sobbed into her hands. She wasn’t prepared for this. This will be certain death. The though registered like she had ingested a gallon of molten lead gone cold. She curled upon cement wondering how long it would take, how long she would endure the torment of starvation, isolation and black vacancy.

Even dying, little piece by little piece, isn’t as horrible as knowing how much I loved and invested in the one who sentenced me to it. How long until I die for this sin, she wondered, and then implored the Heavens, screaming on her knees, “Exactly what is the price for blind love? I trusted my heart”!

She pictured him now, laughing among friends, with self-righteous indignance, speaking as though she deserved to die for this; for the crime of believing in Daniel and loving him more than life. “Love is blind,” she whispered into the stillness.

Michaela knew that his friends and acquaintances were equally enamored, albeit differently. They too had no idea that the good man they accepted in the warmth of friendship would someday reveal himself; the monster inside would make itself known. Maybe they will be the ones to discover my bones here, she thought, knowing they would only meet the same fate.

Having worn out the last of her will, she closed her eyes, whispering into endless nothingness, “Now I lay me down to sleep”…

 
  

by Wildfire8470

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© April 29, 2018 at 10:37 AM

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Tags:  Tuesday Teasers, flash fiction, blind faith blind love, horror, allegory, unrequited love, murder, death

Passion's Invocation, Romance, Tuesday Teasers, Tuesday Teasers

07/29/2014: The Hard Way

 A group full of fun people who, from a personal picture prompt, write a 200 word teaser and post it on a Tuesday. Reading and commenting on each others teasers is always an encouragement for the writer and tweets spread the word about our group.

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The Hard Way

Jazmine stared out the window reviewing her actions of late. I’m new to being His slave all the time, she thought, He should have accounted for that, but even she couldn’t let herself off that easily.

Sir Reginald had been patient with her, at first. Their first twenty-four hours had taxed her more than she expected. Still, Jaz was disheartened that he’d been so courteous their first night. He turned down the bed, snuffed out the candles and laid her gently on the bed. She lay in expectant anticipation imagining his large, rough hands seeking all the places that pleasured her beyond measure… until she heard him snoring.

She suffered through the next day with nerves causing her to lock her jaw. Sir Reginald was kind that she had slightly over-cooked the meal, which she served as graciously as she could, but he noticed her stilted gait and clipped responses through clenched teeth. He tried to explain that night, but she was strained beyond recovery,

“I wasn’t neglecting you, Jaz. I meant to give you much-needed rest,” He said without guilt.

“Rest,” she questioned with a screech, “You! You! You!”

Before she could find an appropriate expletive, He scooped her up and banished her to an empty room.

Even now she cringed, picturing herself lifting the milk pitcher and hurling it against the wall behind him. Milk splashed him, soaked the walls and shattered glass scattered, sticking to him and littering the floor. She knew this would take a grand apology.

“Total subservience. Absolute obedience,” she whispered to herself, moving to the door he had turned the lock on, “He must forgive me.”

She knelt leaning face-down prepared to accept her fate, knowing she deserved whatever he would do for punishment, I learn the hard way, but I do learn.

 

By Wildfire8470

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Passion's Invocation, Tuesday Teasers

01/20/2014: Fiona’s Firsts

Tantalizing Tuesday Teasers

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Tantalizing Tuesday Teaser

Fiona's Firsts

Fiona made a conscious choice, “So why am I questioning it now,” she wondered, “I wanted a break from being strong. Didn’t I?”

 

Sir Dante’s voice came through the door, slicing through her thoughts and striking her soul, “Bend over more. This is the last time you go out drinking and forget to call me. I was worried sick, Fiona.”

 

She bent gripping the edge of the bed, feeling guilty and completely out of her element. “I run a friggin’ company. I give orders to men,” she warred with herself, “and I never thought he would actually… Ouch! Fucking hell! God damn it,” Fiona screamed as the crop landed sharply, scoring her perfect ass.

 

He took a seat, dragging her over his knee by her hair and slid his hand between her thighs. She was soaking wet. Dante smiled in the darkness, “Repeat after me, “I will not fail you again, Sir. I surrender.”

 

Fiona hesitated, uncertain if she wanted to cry, slap him hard, or beg for more. “I will n, not, ohhh, owww…shit,” she paused to rub her scorched bottom. He wrenched her hand behind her, whipped her again, and snaked two fingers into her wetness. She stumbled over the words while he enjoyed tormenting her. One more fall of the crop made her she scream them loudly.

 

Dante held her closely then, kissing away her tears. They made love like never before. Her words were no longer forced. Fiona repeated them like a magical incantation, whispering, “I surrender,” until climax forced their surrender to each other.

By Wildfire8470

© copyright 2014-01-20 07:22:58 – All Rights Reserved

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Dangerous Women, Love and Lust, Tuesday Teasers

Driveby Angel

Drive-by Angel 

drive-by-angel

 

Angel packed her bags, trying to anticipate the change in temperature at her destination. She was sick of this too-small town, sick of everything, and fed up with her beige life. She walked with direct and angry assurance, muttering, 

 

“Beige! My whole life has been bland, boring, BEIGE!” 

 

She flung slacks, dresses, heels, jeans, and a variety of tops, into the suitcases haphazardly. She then tossed her bags into the trunk with a single thought. Her wheels laid rubber as she gunned the car onto the street, thinking, 

 

“I need color and I’ll have it, damn it all!” 

 

She drove blindly and six hours later, found herself in St. Augustine, without really knowing how she had gotten there. Angel stopped for gas with the breeze catching her long, blonde tresses. She knew she was beautiful. She had always known it. 

 

Though she was at the self-serve island two men raced from the station, trying to be the first to offer assistance. Angel smiled deviously and stepped from her car. She asked the first man to fill the tank and requested that the second show her to the ladies room.

 

She immediately learned his name was Davis and looped her arm through his as his eyes bulged, glued to her voluptuous breasts and long, slender legs. He managed to issue a compliment about the importance of a woman being safe when traveling and offered to go in first, to check that it was free of “intruders.” 

 

Angel stood behind him as he pushed a key into the lock. He was obviously strong, muscular, and maybe just a few sandwiches short of a picnic; her exact type at the moment. 

 

Davis struggled with the rusty lock as Angel took in her surround-ings. The sky was bright and blue; the sun a huge, yellow gold orb, even the gas station sign was bright red, but her specific interest was the renowned, haunted lighthouse in the distance. She wanted to taste the rainbow even if she had to act like a dolt to get what she wanted. 

 

Angel maneuvered to hold the door asking, offhandedly as she could make it seem, when he was off work. He informed her that the first attendant was there to replace him for night shift. 

 

“Listen,” she said, “I’m new in town. Would you be willing to show me some sights?” she asked innocently. 

 

“Sure! What’s your pleasure,” he queried, not believing his good fortune. 

 

Angel pointed into the distance saying, “What’s that? Oh! Is it a lighthouse? Let’s go there!” 

 

Davis, still standing in the door to the restroom, eyed her up and down knowing he could refuse this innocent beauty nothing. 

 

“Of course,” he said, cautioning about its haunted history, explaining that she should stay close to him, “Just in case.” 

 

She cast her eyes to the ground feigning nervousness, “Maybe we shouldn’t,” she said softly with mock fear. 

 

“Oh no, Miss Angel, I’ll protect you,” he offered. 

 

Angel suppressed a hungry grin and agreed to follow him there. 

 

Several moments later, they were inside the lighthouse as the heavy door swung shut with an echoing bang. She playfully ran up the winding staircase but Davis was no match for her endurance. By the time he reached the top, Angel was already half-clad. Her crop top lay in a heap as she unzipped her jean shorts. 

 

He stood drop-jawed, staring at her from silken hair to dainty, bare feet. She closed the distance between them and embraced him, moving her hands to grip his firm, taut ass cheeks and whispered, “Let’s make this a night to remember.” 

 

She kissed him full on the mouth sucking in his lower lip to run her moist tongue across it and whispered, “Fuck me, Davis. Fuck me like no one ever has.” 

 

Davis stepped back to review her beauty in a new light. Then he unzipped his pants. Angel closed the step back to bite his neck. He fumbled with removing his pants and she began to lose patience. She fisted his collar and ripped the offending shirt from his back.

 

Again he took half a step back saying, “Boy, you’re no angel. Are you?” 

 

She pursued him wordlessly, deliberating about how to answer. She took half a step toward him and leaned down to force his pants from his feet. Then, finally, she asked, 

 

“Ever fantasized about defiling and fucking an angel’s brains out? Now is your one and only chance, Davis.”

 

He leaned in to kiss her hard and then scooped up his shirt to spread beneath her. Angel caught his naked body still leaning and pushed him to the ground onto his back. For a brief moment she watched his chest rise and fall heavily.  

 

“What,” he asked, “What are you doing?” 

 

Angel didn’t reply. Instead, she bent down on all fours and crawled the short distance to him, knowing he was already mesmerized by the sway of her breasts and perfect proportions.  

 

She crept between his muscled thighs and sucked his cock into her warm, wet mouth, closing her lips around him hard. Davis let go a groan like she’d never heard before. It was purely animalistic and her pussy went up in flames.

 

She sucked him in deeply and bobbed her head up and down his cock. His head rolled to the side with eyes closed. Angel stopped abruptly and fisted his balls. 

 

“I want you to look at me,” she demanded, as she mounted him cowgirl style.  

 

“Okay! I’m sorry! Okay,” he pleaded, but Angel was having too much fun being the aggressor for once. 

 

She dragged her wet slit up and down his steely length with her firm breasts swinging just over his mouth, and barely out of reach. Angel started to realize she had a prisoner to her will and found it exhilarating.  

 

She leaned back into a sitting position and pushed his cock into her tight, fiery cunt, so slowly it would have broken a lesser man. She was well pleased that he hadn’t cum yet, and decided to torture him a little more. 

 

Suddenly, Davis thrust into her hard and she pulled all the way back until the head of his dick was barely in her. Then she froze, holding him in the grip of a lust so powerful she never wanted to stop, but the sweet, tormenting ache between her thighs was insistent.  

 

Softly, she stroked his balls with fingertips, titillating both of them even more, as she drank in her new-found power and he grew firmer inside her. Finally she slammed down hard, relishing the feel of his hardness filling her up, and began riding him hard and fast.  

 

She pushed faster, stronger, and he matched her with powerful thrusts until she threw her head back in abandon, screaming with a raw intensity. Colors exploded behind her eyelids, as she climaxed hard around his throbbing girth. Their cries mingled in the old lighthouse, resounding around them, and in it Angel heard the call of the wild, like a physical pull. 

 

Davis lay there, eyes closed, breathing hard. He reached to hold her to him but, for her, this was just a drive-by; her first taste of color in the myriad rainbows and flavors to come.  

 

Angel dressed quickly, kissed him lightly on the cheek, retreated down the stairs, and tossed over her shoulder, “Thanks Davis! You were super” as the door slammed shut with a bang. 

 

 

By Wildfire8470

 

© January 01, 2017 – 08:30 AM
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©April 14, 2016 at 12:48 PM
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Tags:  Dangerous Women, Love and Lust, Lust, Flash Fiction, Fiction, D/sDrive-By SexEroticaFemdom Female Domination, m/fPowerSexual Adventure

 

 

 

 

 

Passion's Invocation, Tuesday Teasers

Unveiling Melody

Slave Adornment

[Image found here: Ty Rigors –

http://tyrigorsgemsmithshop.blogspot.com/2012/05/slave-adornment_19.html]

Melody knelt on the bed, admiring her body from every angle. She couldn’t believe her eyes. After years of struggling, suffering, and torment, she finally had the body to go with her ever-present thoughts.

Jenson had been in London for months; a business trip he couldn’t avoid. He had returned only one half hour ago. He traveled frequently, which was the best kind of roommate to have, but she had missed his company and friendship this time. She knew that he would be in jogging pants and finishing his first beer by now.

Melody stood to take a closer look in the mirror when Jenson called her name,

“Mel! Mel,  you here, buddy boy?”

He opened the bedroom door without knocking. Jenson had seen her nude before, but never like this. He stood in the doorway, eyes open wide, mouth agape, and trying not to drool.

Mel bolted for the bathroom but Jenson quickly followed, catching the door before she could lock it. She pushed and he pulled. They were deadlocked. Neither was going to give in.

Finally Jenson’s deep baritone voice surrounded her like silk,

“You didn’t tell me the surgery was over… and obviously a tremendous success! Now bring that fuckalicous ass out here. I need to take it for a spin!”

By Wildfire8470

© copyright 2013-03-14 20:01:35 – All Rights Reserved

~Wildfire8470 - KAS~
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In honor of LGBT Pride Month

And for Joey. I love and miss you.


[Copied From:  http://www.loc.gov/lgbt/about.html for learning purposes]

Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Pride Month (LGBT Pride Month) is currently celebrated each year in the month of June to honor the 1969 Stonewall riots in Manhattan. The Stonewall riots were a tipping point for the Gay Liberation Movement in the United States. In the United States the last Sunday in June was initially celebrated as “Gay Pride Day,” but the actual day was flexible. In major cities across the nation the “day” soon grew to encompass a month-long series of events. Today, celebrations include pride parades, picnics, parties, workshops, symposia and concerts, and LGBT Pride Month events attract millions of participants around the world. Memorials are held during this month for those members of the community who have been lost to hate crimes or HIV/AIDS. The purpose of the commemorative month is to recognize the impact that lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender individuals have had on history locally, nationally, and internationally.

In 1994, a coalition of education-based organizations in the United States designated October as LGBT History Month. In 1995, a resolution passed by the General Assembly of the National Education Association included LGBT History Month within a list of commemorative months.

LGBT History Month is also celebrated with annual month-long observances of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender history, along with the history of the gay rights and related civil rights movements. National Coming Out Day (October 11), as well as the first “March on Washington” in 1979, are commemorated in the LGBT community during LGBT History Month.

By Wildfire8470

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected RXGX-VV3V-IQFO-J70B

Passion's Invocation, Romance, Tuesday Teasers

Wrath Of An Irish Maiden

Wrath Of An Irish Maiden

Storm - Blackhead - Sea - cliff - Ireland - county Clare

Kathleen waited in her modest home, with the parish Priest and her family, listening to storm reports. The breaking news announced the flash flood that brought down a bridge. Kathleen knew he was on it, crossing that bridge to get to her, even in this horrid storm.

Digesting the news she’d just heard, Kathleen sat stock-still for a moment, letting the enormity of it hit her. Then she bolted, still in her wedding gown, running into the wind of a storm that County Clare had not seen the likes of for twenty five years.

The cyclone blew its fury, dashing waves and spray over the tops of nearby cliffs. With storm clouds surrounding her, blacker than night, she screamed her frenzied grief into side-slanting rain that blew her long, red hair straight back, “You took him from me! You godforsaken bitch! You took him from me” she wailed and sobbed, screaming at Mother Nature and any god that would listen.

With gale-force winds whipping her slight frame to and fro, she edged dangerously close to the slippery, black shale, cliffs. She was barely discernible in the driving rain and the cold splashing of the Atlantic. Only bolts and flashes of lightning that split the sky gave enough illumination to make out the shape of a mad woman, with her entire body twisting, cursing, and fighting an unseen enemy as she pummeled her own demons.

Kathleen was far beyond fear of storms that once terrified her. Tonight, she feared nothing, including death. She shook her tiny fists at the gods, at all of the legends and lore about hearty, Irish, men and women who had survived worse.

She could not imagine worse than a life without her love, and continued her raving madness, “There is no worse,” she shrieked, “This is worst,” she screamed, releasing her unrelenting pain into the raging tempest that spat it back in her face with its howling winds.

Bolts of lightning dodged her small frame as though fearful but the deluge answered her, splattering her soaked body with a vengeance. Her pearl-white gown clung to her, filthy, tattered, and shredded, with her beautiful face now contorted in utter insanity. Outrage and agony tore through her, as nothing ever had.

She was mad with grief, incensed ire, and beyond the ability to return from her own hell, but the storm pitched everything it had at her. Kathleen fought, swore, and cursed, as though boxing the merciless onslaught.

Finally, she leaned into the wild winds, screaming her wrath that matched the raging, furious cyclone and then charged the jagged cliffs, swearing to join her love in death.

Out of nowhere, strong arms encompassed her waist, hauling her back to safety. Exhaustion claimed her as she fainted into merciful blackness, not even realizing she had fainted into the arms of her fiancé.

By Wildfire8470

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© January 15, 2017 – 10:08 PM – All Rights Reserved

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Reproduction or republication of this content is prohibited without prior written permission.


 

Tags;  Cliffs of MoherFictionGriefInsanityIrelandIrish Legend, LossRageRomanceTantalizing Tuesday TeaserTrue LoveTuesday Teasers, Wrath, WiP, Wrath