Saturday 19 November 2011

Chance Meeting part Two (by Paladin)

***********

I moved on to the mat and I could see her watching me nervously. I stepped closer and she moved to meet me. I reached out to catch her arm but she danced back lightly, lithe muscles flexing as she reacted. Grinning I closed quickly and wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her tight in against my body. I swept a leg and lowered my blond gently to the mat. 

I guessed the gym mat was slightly cold because her eyes widened as her back met the surface. She lay there unresisting as I straddled her stomach. I caught her wrists and pushed them down to the mat beside her head. She smiled up at me as I counted to ten.

“I expected a little more of a fight,” I commented.

She tried to raise one shoulder off the mat then subsided. “I wanted to see how it felt.”

***********

“Being sat on?”

She nodded, “that and whether you would be rough with me.”

I released her wrists and sat back, allowing my full weight to settle. Her stomach curved beautifully underneath me and I could feel her muscles press against my backside as she breathed. “I never said I would be rough.”

She smiled up at me, “men never do.”

I felt her thighs close and leant back, relaxing. “So what’s it like being wrestled and sat on for the first time?”

She thought about it for a moment. “It was exciting to defy you and then to feel your strength as you took control of me but I appreciated that you didn’t need to hurt me to show that you could beat me.”

“It’s not about hurting you. The pleasure is in the contest, the physical contact and of course in sitting on you. Am I too heavy?”

She shook her head. “Is it really pleasurable sitting on me ?”

“Absolutely. Your stomach is soft but strong as it presses against my backside. Your skin is smooth where is touches my thighs  and looking down on you from this position only inflames the sensations.”

She laughed, “I will have to try it myself then.”

I got up and reached down to help her to her feet. Stepping back I allowed her time and room to prepare for the next round. This was turning into a far more interesting evening than I could have expected. I wondered if giving her the opportunity to straddle me would further fan the spark of her competitive fire. Would she take the opportunity or even recognise it. How would she feel when her body was pressing mine down to the mat? Would it be the same rush of exhilaration that I got or would it leave her mystified as to why someone would chose this fetish?

She rushed in, bent down and grabbed my leg, trying to unbalance me. With a laugh I allowed myself to collapse forward, taking her down to the mat beneath me. She struggled and brought she knees up to try and stop me straddling her stomach. I rolled her from her side onto her back. She tried to push me away but I again caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. Then ignoring her legs I slid up her body, swung my leg across and straddled her chest. I sat back on her breasts my shins pinning her arms down

“Hey!” she protested.

I counted to ten while her legs swung helplessly from side to side in a helpless attempt to unseat me.

I sat high above her, looking down into her eyes, “you have a protest or question?”

“I thought you had to sit on my stomach.”

I shifted my shins off her arms  but stayed sitting high on her chest. “My apologies for the misunderstanding. When I said you win by sitting on your opponent I didn’t just mean on the stomach. I should have made that clearer.”

She considered that and nodded, then bit her lip.

“Another question?”  

“Is sitting on my chest different from sitting on my stomach. I mean is it more pleasurable.”

“It can be,” I admitted. “You have a magnificent chest after all.”

She laughed, “I think that in the context that is the strangest compliment I’ve ever received. Is it more pleasurable though?”

“You want to know if I’m aroused by sitting on your chest? Yes of course I am. You’re a beautiful woman and I’m in an incredibly dominant position. If I were wrestling you for a different outcome then this position would yield even more pleasure.”

I stood and helped her up. “Have you wrestled for that outcome before?” She asked. I smiled in response and gave her shoulder a little push. She pushed back. As I reached to push her again she danced around my hand and threw her arm around my neck. I felt her bicep tighten as she pulled me down into a headlock. Having my head pulled firmly against her side was far from unpleasant. I tried to catch her legs so I could pick her up but she used my trick of dropping her weight. I went with it curious to see what she would do.

For a few seconds we pushed against each other to gain an upper hand. She managed to get her feet under her and heaved. Laughing I rolled onto my side and continued the movement till I was on my back and she was sprawled across me. Surprised by my sudden collapse she hesitated and then leapt on top of me. She actually leapt and landed with a solid splash on my stomach. The look on her face was priceless, a mixture of shocked surprise and wicked glee.
I let her gain her balance then gave a small bridge. She bounced upwards with small gasp. I did it again and she threw out an arm to balance herself. I curled up and tried to push her off.

“Oh hell no,” she growled Pushing off her toes she pounced and landed squarely on my chest, knocking me back to the mat. She counted to ten quickly before throwing both hands up in victory. 

I looked up at her, admiring the curve of her stomach, the arch of her chest and the way the light touch of perspiration made her skin glow.

“I’m not too heavy on you am I?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good! because I’m not getting off just yet.” She looked down at me. “I think I’m starting to understand the appeal of this..., this hobby?”

“Call it what you like,” I laughed. “How does it feel to win?”

“I feel powerful,” she flexed both biceps and gave her hips a little wriggle. “When I got you in that headlock I was so single minded about getting you to the ground that I couldn’t think of anything else. I just wanted on be on top of you and then when you nearly threw me off the adrenaline really hit and I just..,”

“Pounced,” I suggested.

She grinned, “it felt pretty wild.” She put her hands on her hips. “Now answer my earlier question, why aren’t we wrestling for the other outcome? You can’t tell me that when you were sitting on me that you weren’t excited.”

“Let’s be honest if that was all I wanted I would hardly have to go to much effort to either purchase it directly or through drinks and conversation would I? I wanted something much harder to find, more unique and intense. Does that make sense?”

“Something unique and intense, yes I can understand that. I suppose I should let you up now, could you throw me off if you wanted to?”

“Possibly but you won the pin fairly so I stay here till you let me up.”

“How does it make you feel to be sat on?”

Ah, she was turning the tables on me in more ways than one. This girl had an exciting way of challenging me. “How does it make me feel hmm? Competitive and excited, obviously but more importantly it makes me feel happy. I’ve got someone who’s willing to throw herself into the fantasy with me, what more could I ask for?”

“Nice answer,” my blond grinned. “Now get up and let me make you happy by kicking your butt again.”

Thursday 17 November 2011

Chance Meeting - Part 1 (by Paladin)

*******


Chance Meeting Part One

“So is this the moment when you ask me if I want a drink or are you going to tell me that your wife doesn’t understand you?”

I smiled. The young blond, in the figure hugging little black dress, sitting alone at the bar had already sent two men scurrying off, the first with a cool glare that could have restored the polar ice-caps. The second had muttered something about bitches with attitudes before he’d headed off for easier hunting grounds.

“Actually I was hoping to gain the attention of the bartender who seems unhealthily fixated on your cleavage.”

The blond raised an eyebrow which sent the barely pubescent barman in my direction. 

“Talisker,’ I ordered, “two ice-cubes not an avalanche please.” I raised my glass in a mocking salute to the blond and she turned away. A pity, she really was very attractive. Still I wasn’t here to add to the misery of any already dull work related trip. At least the peat and smoke flavours of the whiskey could be relied upon to ease the end of a long day.

“You never answered my question.”

I turned and made sure to keep my eyes several points above her neckline. “Which question was that?”

She did the eyebrow again.

“Not married and I’m not really in the habit of forcing alcohol on unwilling young women.” I responded.

“I never said I was was unwilling,” she regarded me for a long moment. “So, divorced or simply unable to to commit because your male ego never allowed you to grow up?”

I sipped my drink, “separated, as for growing up well I wonder if any of us could make that claim. How about yourself; stood up, broken up or just out to make every male in town miserable?”

She laughed at that and it was a surprisingly pleasant sound. 

“Don’t you think they deserve it. Look at them, off on business and prowling the bars ready to jump anything with breasts and a pulse.”

“And for many the pulse would be optional,” I added.

She smiled at that. “And you?”

“I prefer a pulse. I’m old fashioned like that.” I took another sip, “not that I’m looking for anything like that.” Turning back to the bar I could feel her eyes burning into the back of my neck. Her defences were highly attuned to dealing with being ogled and pawed, being dismissed wasn’t so easy to ignore. 

“Really, so you’re different are you?” I could almost feel the sarcasm level in the room rising.

I shrugged but didn’t turn back. “Never said that. I just said that what I’m looking for is something different.”

I counted silently to ten before looking up at the mirror behind the bar. Her stare had moved from openly hostile to appraising with a slight tinge of curiosity. 

“So what’s different consist of?”

I turned to look at her again, “hmm?”

She slipped off her stool and made a slight adjustment to the hem of her dress, giving me time to admire the smooth line of her legs. She moved closer and sat on he stool next to mine. She leant in and I had to remind myself that I was supposed to be looking at her face. 

“All right I’ll admit I’m curious, what’s different about you?”

I took another sip and this time deliberately let my gaze move slowly, down the line of her neck, taking in the athletic strength of her shoulders, then the obvious but delightful curves down to her narrow waist. When I looked back up she met my eyes with a challenging stare.


“I’ll answer your question in two parts, how I judge your reaction to the first part will determine if I tell you the second.”

“So much mystery,” she gently mocked but I could see she was becoming hooked.
I hadn’t really intended looking for anything like this on this trip but she’d almost fallen into my lap, so to speak and the sheer amount of defensiveness and hostility actually made her an easier target.

“All right part one. My preference is for unique, strong women and by that I don’t mean muscle bound. I appreciate strength of character as much as an athletic build. Take yourself for example, most people see that you’re physically attractive but how many notice the tone in your muscles and realise that you care for your overall health not just your looks.” 

The blond gave me a genuine smile and not just because I’d said she was attractive but because I’d indicated that there was much more depth to her personality. I was indicating that she stood out from the majority of people.

Before she could comment I raised a hand. “When I can I like to wrestle with women like you.”

A slight frown crossed her forehead, clearly it was not something she was expecting to here.

“I did say that this was something only unique women enjoy.” There, I’d baited the hook. Would her pride push her forward?

She took a sip of the last of her wine. I waved the bartender over and signalled a refill for us both. He gave me a far more respectful look this time. If only he knew the truth. 

“By wrestling you mean?”

“Playful fighting, no hitting or violence, ending in a pin where the winner sits on top of the loser.”

“Do you have to be naked?”

I chuckled, “it’s not a prerequisite, certainly I’m not aware of any international rules that say you have to be.”
She raised her wine glass and peered at me over the rim. “So what separates the women who like to wrestle from those that don’t?”

“Confidence and playfulness but mostly I look for a spark of fire in the eyes that tells me I’ve found the right person.”

She sipped her wine, “do I have that spark?”

Gently I reached out and cupped her chin, she didn’t pull away. “I think you cover it up because it makes others jealous but yes you have it.”

She blushed, pleased that I could see in her something she herself wasn’t sure she had. All of us have that need, that desire for another to see something special in us. It’s a powerful desire that when used positively can drive people to do their best but at it’s worst it can eat a person from the inside. 

I wasn’t trying to deliberately manipulate her, rather it was more like a screening process I’d developed over the years. I released her chin, my fingers slipping slowly away, caressing her the tender skin along her jawline.

“What is the second part?” she asked, her voice a little more husky now.

I sipped at my whiskey, considering her request. “I think I can tell you but I must start by saying that most people tend to wander through a rather vanilla life without even noticing the myriad of other shades that lie alongside.”

“I’m not most people” She interjected.

“Maybe not but perhaps what I would be suggesting is a bit beyond what you are ready to cope with.”

Her eyes flashed and she drew in a deep breath. I smiled she was already prepared to fight for her newly found sense of herself. 

“I can cope with anything you can throw at me,” she growled.

“Really?” I asked. “How do you feel about wrestling me?”

She paused, then grinned, “I reckon I could take you.”

I smiled and swirled the ice in my glass. Well this was compressing things quite a bit but why not. I hadn’t planned for this, so if it didn’t work out I hadn’t lost anything. I nodded and considered what I would say.

“When I find a really exceptional woman with the perfect balance of strength, fun and fire I like to go beyond wrestling. I like to ride her, on all fours preferably. I challenge her to unseat me while I try to break her will and make her submit to my domination.” I leant back and took a long drink, “you did ask,” I told her when I put the glass down.

She took a long sip of her own, then faced me directly. “That’s pretty strange.” she commented. I shrugged but didn’t reply. “I think I could carry you, at least for a while,” she added. “Do some girls enjoy it?”

“Some love it.”

She turned letting her gaze move across the room. I could see she was weighing up the prospect of an evening turning down business men growing steadily more intoxicated, going home or trying something new and strange and oddly thrilling to even think about.

“Where would we do this?” She asked it quickly as if getting it out in the open before she could change her mind.

“I have just the right place in mind, shall we?” I offered my arm and she accepted.

“You’re oddly old fashioned at times aren’t you?”

“Someone has to be,” I replied. It looked as though this night could be well worth remembering.    

I led her out of the bar, ignoring the looks of the other patrons and focusing on the soft touch of her fingers on my wrist and the sway of her hips against mine as we threaded out way between the tables.

We reached the lobby and crossed to the elevators. I turned her and slid my hand across her hip and around to the small of her back. “Kiss me,” I told her.

“What?” she leant back slightly

“Kiss me,” I repeated firmly.

“Why?”

“I want everyone in that room to see that you're my property.”

She blinked at that then kissed my cheek. She slowly kissed her way along my jawline while I kept my gaze focused on the bar. “Are they watching?” she whispered. She reached my lips. 

“You’re destroying them with jealousy,” I murmured. I pulled her closer to me, crushing her lips with mine until the elevator chimed. As we stepped inside she laughed, “that was so much fun.”

The doors closed. I turned to face her, “get down on all fours I told her.”

“Now?”

I nodded and she slowly got down on all fours. I happily admired the way her little black dress tightened around her backside. I pressed a button and stepped over her body. I could see she was carefully trying to watch me. “Keep looking forward,” I told her and she did. I slowly lowered my weight onto her back as the elevator chimed past the first floor.

I paused with about 50% of my weight braced by my legs and the rest across her hips. I could hear her breathing quicken and this excited me even more than the kiss had. I deliberately slid forward, lowering all of my weight as I moved into the natural curve of her back. I felt her shoulders brace against my forward motion. Third floor.

“That’s all my weight,”

“Mmmph,” she replied.

As we passed through 4 and 5 I deliberately moved around on her back, finding that perfect spot. My blond said nothing until comfortable and with my feet completely off the floor I reached out and took her long hair up in one hand.

“You’re not going to mess my hair up are you?”

I laughed. “You’re in an elevator, on all fours with a man you barely know sitting astride your back and you’re worried about your hair being messed up?”

It took a moment for that to sink in and then she began to laugh softly. Her back bounced ever so slightly under me. It was a lovely sensation that sent little trickles of pleasure up my spine. 

She stopped laughing which was a shame as it was a lovely sensation. “What happens if the doors open and someone’s there?”

I shrugged, “they either come in or wait for the next elevator I suppose.”

“You don’t get off?”

“No.”

She shifted a little as that idea also sunk in. I glanced up at the panel and realised we were nearly at the top floor. Most of the guests were aware of the roof-top gym and no doubt quite a few had tried out the yoga/pilates classes but very few would bother to go up there at night. I had gone up there last night and wasn’t too surprised to find that in these fine summer nights the gym mats were left out.

The doors slid open and I gave her a light kick with my heels. She reacted as if this was perfectly normal and carried me smoothly out of the elevator and on to the astroturf they’d used to make the roof look less like a stark, concrete wasteland.

She hesitated and I kicked her again, a little harder this time. She moved forward and I began to use her hair to guide her towards the gym mats. “You really do use my hair as reins?” She sounded surprised.

I smiled and drew her hair back. She came to a halt so quickly that I began to think I’d found a natural pony girl. I dismounted and she waited on all fours.

“Stand up”

She did and looked around. The city scape around us at night was beautiful but I didn’t want her to break her concentration. 

“Look at me.” She did and smiled. “Was I too heavy?” I asked.
“No actually. Was I good at it, was I, you know?”

“Surprisingly good. I haven’t even met many professional pony girls who so instinctively know what to do.”

She grinned at the compliment.

“Take your dress off.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Unless you intend to wrestle me in it,” I clarified.

“Oh,” she wriggled out of her dress, taking long enough to be sure I was watching as the tight material slowly slipped down her body. I’d been right about the tone of her muscles and the sight of her lovely curves, accentuated by her simple black lingerie, eclipsed the skyline.

She stood before me with her hands on her hips, “aren’t you going to take something off?”

I raised an eyebrow, “what would you like me to take off?”

She sauntered closer and began slowly undoing my shirt buttons. My blond slid her hands over my shoulders and my shirt dropped to the floor. The warm night air pressed against my chest but my attention was focused on her hands as they slipped down to my belt. She kissed my chest and slowly dropped to her knees. 

Within moments my shoes and trousers were lying beside my shirt and the night air had grown considerably warmer. 

“The rules,” I began once she had stood up, “are simple. We wrestle until one person is sitting on top of the other. After a count of ten the person on the bottom is pinned and has lost that round. We will wrestle for the best out of eleven.”

“What happens then?” her breathing was quicker and her chest swelled enticingly with each breath.

“The winner claims the loser as their pony and can ride them as they want.”

She licked her lips nervously.

“You’ve already been extremely brave.”

She smiled.

“Think about how you feel right now. Think about how fast you’re breathing, how hard your heart is thumping. Your skin is tingling with adrenaline. When was the last time you felt like this? Do you really want to let that feeling go now?”

She stepped onto the mat, facing me and swept her long blond hair back over her shoulders. She took a deep breath. “Pin me if you can,” she challenged.

******

Saturday 5 November 2011

Beneath The Ruins of Adiranthe - Part 5


**************


They moved through the passageway, her breathing faster now, the sound echoing off the stone around them. She moved slowly, her energy nearly all gone, taxed by all of what had gone before.
His spurs teased her once more, and while it brought a little gasp from her, the little bit of extra speed lasted a few seconds only before dropping back to the slow walk. She heard him laugh once more and felt him lean forward. As well as his strong bare legs gripping around her sides, she could again feel something else pressing against her back. She moaned, in despair and exhaustion and somehow arousal as well. He stayed leaning forward and ran the spurs up and down across her thighs in sensual, slightly prickly torture. Another gasp, followed by a shiver through her back that he could feel. He smiled and sat back upright, urging her on again. Somehow she didn't even think of trying to resist.
Eventually this slow, torturous ride ended at what seemed like a dead end in the stone passage. Kardan held up the crystal that hung around his neck.
"Eilethessa" he whispered in hissing tones. And part of the dead end swung back away from them, revealing not a cave, but a proper room beyond.
He urged her through and sealed the secret doorway behind them with the reverse of the first magical word.
Eleria saw that it was a bedroom, large, lit by orange-yellow crystals instead of torches. The bed itself was huge and luxurious and the warm ochre-rendered walls decorated with a bizarre mix of stuff from weapons and symbols to strange artworks that were probably from ancient Adiranthe itself. His room?
Kardan dismounted. Eleria gasped in relief as the pressure eased, arching up and down to relax her tight muscles.
He pulled her reins upwards and slowly, awkwardly she stood, then stretched her back.
"Now go and stand by the bed, lean over and rest your hands on it."
Eleria started to obey, then suddenly stopped and looked back at him with shock, thinking he meant something entirely more than what they'd been doing.
Kardan saw the look in her eyes. "No, pony," he said. "not rape, that is beyond my limits, but our game is not finished. Bend over!"
She shivered at the dominant, aroused tone in his voice and bent, leaning over with her hands on the bed, semi-upright, blushing at the feel of her behind sticking out, knowing that things would only escalate from here. 
"Close your eyes."
Nervous but too dazed and unsure what else to do for now other than go with it, she closed her eyes. The next thing she felt was a cool drizzle of oil across her back. She gasped softly.
His strong, calloused fingers came next, rubbing the oil into her, pressing hard as he massaged the slippery stuff into her back. Her eyes stayed closed, this time with pleasure at the gorgeous massage. More oil was poured and smoothed right up her spine and down again.
But this was all too brief, and she could not restrain a sound of disappointment as his hands went away. He laughed.
"Not to worry, pretty pony," he sounded pleased and amused that he had caused her pleasure. "I haven't finished with you yet..."
He stood behind her now and for a moment she heard him fussing with something but nothing happened. Then he moved up beside her. He pushed his hand against her back, making her arch down into a more pleasing position. Then, his right foot found the wooden base of the bed, then he swung his other leg up and over her, mounting her again.
His weight sank deep into her oiled back. She gasped as she realised he was totally bare and naked pressed against her, every part of him! He chuckled at her reaction and with pleasure at the very intimate contact between their bodies. His feet hung down on either side of her.
She moved, shifting her weight and trying to make it a little more comfortable to hold his, and he shifted a little as well, moving himself just a little further up her back. She could feel his thighs pressing her strongly. 
Now he grabbed her "mane" and the reins both, tightly. He felt for her thighs with his feet, then placed the spur rowels against them and rolled them swiftly and firmly across her skin.
A gasp escaped her and she reacted, her back moving under him like a wave. 

"Giddy up" he hissed, the steel command of his spurs punctuating his words. Eleria gasped again and obeyed, using her legs and feet to raise and bounce herself and the man astride her up and down in rhythm. 
"Not quite... move back and forth like you just did before." 
So she pushed forward through her arms then back again, sort of shoving the center of balance back and forth. She felt him slide a little and press firmly into her skin at the most forward part of the movement. Her breath caught; she heard a soft rumble of approval. His hands tightened hard in her hair, making the gentle concave arch of her back more pronounced, and he moved with her. Forward and back. Forward and back. She gained momentum.
The oil made him slide wonderfully on her naked back with her movements as he rode her. Forward and back, forward and back. He leaned into her, rubbing and sliding with her rhythm, his breath hissed through his teeth and he knew it wouldn't be long, not after the lengthy and stimulating ride; his belly was tight with deep, pulsing arousal. She was gasping for breath now, her muscles exhausted, but still moving.
"Keep going!" he demanded hoarsely, spurring her on without even thinking.
Up and down, back and forth he slid and rode on her undulating back and suddenly he gasped, his breath catching, his legs around her sides tightening wildly as sensation overcame all.

He sat astride her still as the orgasm ebbed away, recovering, breathless. Her body was still now and trembling in total exhaustion under his, the only thing keeping her upright was the vague notion that she did not want to humiliate herself even more by collapsing under him.
He leaned forward and ran his hands through her hair, then slid a hand under her chin and caressed her face briefly.

******************

She lay collapsed on the bed, recovering her breath, vaguely aware of him moving around somewhere else in the room. She could still feel heat on her thighs from his spurs, could almost feel him still astride her back, and a dim awareness somewhere in her mind that somehow, despite how much she had wished she could overcome him, despite the rough sexuality of the ride and all that had happened before it, she had somehow felt aroused at the same time. That wasn't something she wanted to think about.
His fingers touched her cheek and she turned to face him as he began to un-bridle her, her eyes and face and body seeming soft with weariness.
"You are all right?" he asked when the bridle was off.
This had a strange effect on her. A small spark of fire re-ignited in her eyes and she straightened her spine, the movement separating them by a few more inches.
"I am fine, thank you for asking," she hissed with a challenging look.
He looked at her, a little amazed that she should still have such fire even after he had treated her so roughly, perhaps more roughly and sexually than he had meant to. He had expected fear and submission. Then suddenly he laughed.
"So my slave still has some fight in her even now," he said. "Amazing! I thought perhaps I had gone too far. Now I see I am wrong."
He chuckled as she sat up stiffly and watched him put on fresh trousers.
"As to what happens now..." he said. "You came trying to thieve from me, and now you are my slave, mine for two weeks. You will perform menial tasks as I need, cleaning, sewing, and," he grinned, "and you shall be my pony any time I require it. That was fun, with or without the part that just happened."
Eleria just stared at him, keeping her head raised scornfully.
"Our agreement is this: I will not touch you intimately unless you wish otherwise..." He chuckled again as she snorted contemptuously. "And you will act as a good slave should. Of course I expect some disobedience. You don't exactly seem the type to come quietly. But if you try anything again like bucking me off at my own front door, or anything else that I feel totally flouts my authority, I will punish you, understood?"
"Understood," Eleria did her best to keep up her scornful tone. Inwardly she was quailing. Two weeks of this humiliation and servitude? By the Goddess, she'd better find a way to escape, and quickly.
"Now you may bathe and will be brought dinner in the slave quarters, pony girl."
"My name is Eleria," she spat haughtily.
*****************