Author Note: This story is purely a work of fiction, and any resemblances to actual persons or situations are purely unintentional.
Normally, I write 3rd person stories that are very much novel(la)-length by the end of them. I also strive to be more realistic about BDSM, mostly B/D and D/s, since most of the stories I've read here involving the premises, while often enjoyable, are only slightly more accurate than the 50 Shades abomination was.
I'm currently working on another story that I'm uploading here, called Of Love and Iron, that's like that. But this idea popped into my head, and I thought I'd give a go at practicing my writing skills in other areas. I'm very unused to writing short stories, and I'd appreciate feedback from anyone who takes the time to read this work, so I can get opinions on how it comes across to readers.
......................................
I stare at Emily, unable to wipe the smirk from my face.
She stares right back, her eyes narrowed slightly.
Her eyes briefly slip down to my hand, a small piece of glossy paper held loosely between my fingers.
Seeing the photo, she gains a slight red glow to her face.
I can tell this clearly isn't what she expected when waking up on her birthday.
Though not quite as spectacular as her crimson-dyed hair, the color quickly gives an attractive flushed look to her appearance.
"What do you want?"
Her words are like a gunshot going off in the silence.
They're the first sounds made in the minutes since I'd come to her house.
Since I'd lifted the photo to her eyes without a word, and walked inside without any resistance from her.
Since I'd taken a position casually leaning against the wall, watching her mind frantically trying to work out what I'm up to.
I shrug, bringing the photo up for my own inspection.
Not that I needed to, considering how much I'd been staring at it since I'd gotten it.
"What do you want!?" she repeats in a slight shrill.
The sound is very sexy, in her low, smoky voice.
Letting my eyes move back to her, I see her glaring at the smirk still curving my lips.
"I think I want you to beg."
"W-what?" she asks, eyes going wide in surprise.
Again, I watch as her mind goes to work.
It's pretty amusing, practically seeing the dirty thoughts rolling through her overactive imagination.
I wave the photo again, remaining relaxed against the wall.
"I want you to beg," I repeat. "Beg for me to not show this around."
She stares uncomprehendingly at me, as though I was speaking a dead language that's only barely recognizable to her addled brain.
She again looks at the photo, and her blush becomes nearly neon in how bright it is on her pale skin.
She lowers her head, letting a slight curtain of red cover most of her expression.
"What was that?" I ask at her barely-audible mumble.
She trembles slightly, and looks up at me through the red.
"I said..."
She stops, clearing her throat as though the words lodged there.
"I said, please, don't show that to anyone."
She flushes even more, and I notice two distinct points through her thin T-shirt.
I hum, as if deep in thought.
"I dunno', didn't seem really sincere," I muse.
Her eyes narrow even further, but I notice heat taking form in her gaze now.
"
Please
, Ray, don't show that photo to anyone else?" she asks with a noticeably breathier voice.
"That
does
sound better... You know what I think would sell it? Make me
really
believe you don't want me showing this photo of you being fucked senseless around town?"
She releases a very quiet, but nonetheless present, moan at that, and her body quivers slightly.
"W-what?"
I push off the wall and make my way to her side, my eyes never separating from her own.
When I reach her, I reach out and grasp her shoulder, feeling the way her body is practically vibrating.
She lets free another of those incredibly sexy sounds at my touch.
"If you begged without this thin little shirt covering your magnificent breasts, I might believe you," I whisper, my lips nearly lying on her ear.
She shudders again, and I can almost feel her staring blankly at me in response.
"C'mon, it's not like I haven't seen them already," I reason whilst waving the photo again.
"Then what's even the point?" she counters, though there's no actual heat behind the words.
"Because who
wouldn't
want to see more of them? And to see if you'll embarrass yourself to get it," I retort instantly, grinning.
She glares into my eyes for another silent moment, before closing her icy-blue eyes and releasing a resigned sigh.
"F-fine."
Without any further hesitation, she grabs at the hem of her shirt and starts dragging upwards.
The fabric falls noiselessly to the floor as her 34C breasts bounce slightly.
I feel my groin stirring at the sight of them, and she turns even redder at whatever expression is on my face at that moment.
Without her shirt, the toned muscles of her torso, honed by years of athletics, are put on full, sexy display.
Her body trembles, attractive waves rolling through her stomach as her muscles tighten and spasm in anticipation to whatever she thinks is going to happen.
The air in the house is warm, so I happily attribute the shivers to other sensations running through her body.
Exposed outside the shirt, her dim-sized nipples harden even further, jutting out proudly at me.
"Very nice," I muse.
She squeaks as my hand moves out and takes a firm hold of one of the breasts, her nipple pressing roughly into my palm.
"H-hey! Y-you didn't s-say anything ab-bout touching," she protests.
I grin, listening to her words even as she arcs her back to press her breast further into my massaging appendage.
"Did I say anything about
not
touching?" I return.
"W-well... no," she mumbles, her eyes lowering slightly in embarrassment.
"Exactly. C'mon, look at these things. How can I
not
indulge myself?"
To accent my point, I begin playing with its pair, earning another low moan from her.
The more I toy with her, the more I feel my own body stirring.
Her eyes become half-lidded at my continued groping, and I revel in the sweet sounds escaping her.
When I take her nipples between my fingers and start toying with them, though, she seems to come out of her trance.
Eyes widening, she lifts her gaze to again stare at me.
"You don't seem to mind this. Maybe I should come up with something more embarrassing for you to do while begging me?" I suggest.
Her mouth opens to protest, but a very audible moan escapes her instead.
Evidently, Emily has sensitive breasts.
A very good bit of information to keep in mind going forward.
"I... do... I d-do, too, mind," she argues.
I smirk at her, watching as she audibly gulps in preparation for whatever she thinks is coming next.
I love the surprise I see when I release her breasts immediately and step back.
"Wh-wha...?"
"Far be it from me to do something you don't like," I reason. "I guess maybe I'll just go home. There's a print shop on the way. Maybe I'll see if they can get a really good scan of this photo. I wonder how much I'd make selling it as a poster?" I ask in mock consideration.
She pounces, grabbing on to my arm with shaking fingers.
"Wait!"
I raise a brow, staring at her in silence.
"Umm... I... I d-don't mind... really," she whispers.
"What don't you mind? Do you want part of the profit, or something?"
Her eyes widen almost comically, and she bites her lip in an utterly adorable fashion in indecision.
"I... my breasts... I don't mind if you keep touching them."
I shrug, putting on a mask of indifference.
"That's great, but you just said you minded. What if you change your mind while I'm enjoying myself?"
Her whole body quivers, and more of those sweet sounds leave her slightly parted mouth as she grasps what direction I'm pushing her in.
"Please, touch my breasts, Ray," she murmurs.
"And what about the photo?"
"What?"
I grin, letting my hands return to her breasts to throw her even further off-balance.
"What about the photo? Aren't you getting a little greedy, Emily?"
"I-"
I tweak a nipple, causing her entire body to tighten in response, and a low keening sound comes.
Her mouth falls open as she noisily gasps, and a very distinct scent hits my nose.
Apparently, Emily has
very
sensitive breasts.
"Wow, you're really enjoying yourself," I muse.
She remains hunched over, seeming to pay no attention to the world around her as I continue playing with her nipples.
"You should take your panties off, before they end up stained."
Her head whips up, eyes wide in shock at my grin.
"Unless you want to walk around all day smelling like cum. Nothing wrong with that," I muse.
"I... you... Are you serious?"
"I can make it an order, if you'd prefer. I do still have that photo you don't want going around."
Somehow, I have the feeling that the threat isn't at all necessary.
She gasps, and her back arcs, pressing her breasts further out.
Her nipples seem to respond in my hand, becoming even more rigid to my touch.
Shaking all over, she slowly traces her hands down her hips and beneath her thin, grey skirt.
She tenses as her hands grab on to whatever fabric lay beneath, and then freezes.
I extend one of my hands, gesturing impatiently at her while I continue tweaking her nipple lightly with the other.
Grimacing, she bends in on herself, and soon, a flash of pink silk is sliding down her thighs.
A slightly shining trail remains in the wake of the movement, and I grin as she finishes removing the undergarment.
"Hand them over," I command.
She seems numb and slightly out of it as she lifts her hand up and limply drops the panties into my waiting palm.
"Nice and soaked. You really
are
excited, huh?"
She wobbles slightly, her face now entirely resembling a tomato.
"I... I'm not. I'm not
that
excited," she murmurs.
I catch her looking tentatively at me, and grin at the heat in her gaze.
