Black Rose Diaries Morticia

Preface; I Was His, Once Before...

"Whose pussy is this? Huh?" he rasps, his smoky voice low and husky, his accent thick with possessiveness. "Is this mine, Cara Mia?" His hips thrust slowly, deliberately, as he claims me with every inch of his being. His hands cradle me with a tender ferocity, a stark contrast to the unyielding passion that drives him to take me, to brand me as his own. I've always enjoyed the way he pounds me, the way his power slides over my being and cradles me in his dominance. I'd happily submit to him forever if given the chance.

Mezza slides his cock in deep, his base and mons slamming mercilessly against my happy button as he hammers hard, pushing my clit into a peak of its own...

"Yes." I gasp out.

"Say it, love. Who's pussy is this?" His hand snakes around and grabs my throat, asserting his desire for my surrender with a tight squeeze.

"Yours! It's yours, Master, always.. forever!" I moan out, rolling my hips into him, sinking his cock so much deeper into my cunt that we feel each other's heart beat in the most intimate of ways.

While our relationship often thrives on the thrill of pain, pleasure, and power, moments like these remind us that our bond is rooted in love. Today, my Dominant Daddy is showering me with affection, a reward for enduring my last punishment with resilience. The deep purple welts on my breasts, acting as a trophy for that resilience, and a reminder that even in the most intense moments, our love remains a constant, expressed in many ways.

"Fuck. Good girl.. that's my good girl." He presses his forehead to my temple and pants out, his hips begin to gradually speed up until our bodies are so wild and rabid that I have to place my hands on the wall above my head to keep me from hitting it.

"Uuungh! Please Sir, please! May I come on your dick?" It was an agreement made between us; whenever he triggers an orgasm I must hold it, request to release it, and wait for his command to do so. A sexy game to help me learn how to give trust. He had me right on the edge, my clit, my sweet spot inside, both were at war to explode in a crescendo of sloppy wet ecstasy. I'm trying so hard to hold on, to wait for his permission, but its so close, its too close. I don't have much control left. I'm going to burst all over,

'

Please! I need to cum, let me!' I beg him in my head.

My body is racked with tension, my muscles trembling as I fight to hold back. Sweat drips down my naked breasts, coating my skin in a slick sheen as I struggle to restrain myself. It's agony, but I don't want this orgasm without his permission, I want to make him proud, to prove that I've learned after all this time to finally let go of my fears. I want to show him that I can give myself over to him completely, that he has total control over my body and my senses. Because its real, I found it, my faith in myself, and in him; to keep me safe, to treat me with love, and to be my dominant.

This need for dominance and surrender runs deep, a fundamental part of my psyche that craves an extreme level of trust and love. It's where I'm most at peace, most protected and most safe. But my resolve is weakening, my pussy throbbing with anticipation, aching to clamp down around his cock and milk him dry. I'm shivering with the intense pleasure that's threatening to consume me, my body coiled tight with the effort of holding back...

"Do it, squeeze my dick with that amazing pussy of yours, baby. Cum for me." He half growls and half moans out.

As soon as he says the words 'Do it' I'm already crashing. And the words that followed after, helped to turn up the volume of the pleasure coursing through me. By the time he says 'cum for me' I'm coating his dick in my sweet, sticky honey. And as I'm cumming I roll my hips against him, fucking him back like a feral cat hungry for more, yeowling and moaning as I fly free and connect deep with him, which only makes him loose control as well. Soon with a few hard, deep slams he pours into me, stream after stream, his essence fills me. He's warm, tingly. His grunts like an alpha beast rutting his omega slut.

"Fuuuuuuck! Mmm!"

The moment it's all over, we fall into each other's arms, seeking to cool down, to catch our breath. But as our breathing calms, I begin to notice a pain opening up deep inside. A powerful ache at the revelation that when I told him 'always' and 'forever' I truly meant it. A lump forms in my throat, heat fills my eyes as tears well up, but I quickly wipe them away and compose myself. Snuggling deeper into him, I smile and hum in satisfaction. Then, I allow myself to run away with my inner thoughts...

Shit! I truly love him... I have to leave...

Chapter 1; But Do You Know Me?...

People think they know my story, but they really don't. For instance, there's this widespread belief that I'm dominant, which couldn't be further from the truth. While I'm confident and bold in how I live, love, and express, I'm also very much a submissive. A passionate and devoted one at that.

But while I've grown up over the last many years and now know who I am with confidence, once upon a time, I made some pretty big mistakes so, I know I contributed to how people regarded me then and to some degree now, therefore I accept responsibility for some of it. Some.

One of those mistakes was when college-me befriended a guy and gave him permission to use my name, likeness, and college experiences as inspiration for his comic strip in the New York Times- things he'd witnessed firsthand, being my friend and all, back then. I only agreed because I didn't think it would actually go anywhere, and I figured if I just said yes, Charlie would finally stop pestering me about it. But then, it did go somewhere—it went everywhere.

And as a result, my name became synonymous with a false persona, one that I've had to live with for far too long. To be honest, I'm not that suzie-of-a-homemaker, nor am I as vanilla as Charlie made Morticia into, either. I'm so much more. At the time, I was young and flattered by the idea of being famous and beloved, but as I've grown older, become wiser and more self aware, more confident about who I am and how I love, I've realized authenticity is where my happiness thrives best. So now, I'm ready to set the record straight. I'm ready to share my truth.

And that truth is... that I'm a complex tapestry of emotions, ranging from sorrow and torment to love and delight. Inside me is a darker, more twisted side, one that craves a level of intensity and passion that can be overwhelming for most people, otherworldly you might say. And Gomez, or Mezza to me, is the one person who's been able to see beyond my facade, who understands this, understands me, and chooses to meet my desires with his own unique brand of twisted, passionate darkness.

Today, our relationship is a beautiful, symbiotic dance, where we feed each other's needs in a cycle of passion, respect, care, and love. It's a mutual exchange, where I satisfy his desires and he satisfies mine, deeply, creating a passionate and abiding connection that I've grown to adore. But back then when things were just kicking off, when I was still too young, it was messy and difficult, synonymous with being an ignorant horny sex demon, I guess.

This journal is our truth, the depths of our love for one another, of our growth over the years. Where we explore so much of our bodies, our minds, and our spirits; seeking new ways to connect deeper, to truly cherish one another, and to challenge each other... together, through the good and the bad times. So, what better way to share my truth and paint a more honest picture of us as a couple, than by detailing each of our sexual encounters? The real Addams family; Smut Edition. A truth revealed with Mezza's encouragement and demand, as my Dom, not to leave out any details.

That naughty, naughty man.

Chapter 2; How It Started, Sorta...

It's been many years, a decade even, since my younger days finding all the nooks and crannies to fuck in at uni, I remember it all like I was still there. I met Charlie during my sophomore year, when he joined our school as a temporary exchange student in a special art program. Coincidentally, it was the same year that Mezza and I started dating, so Charlie had a front-row seat to our whirlwind romance. He was well aware of our unconventional relationship, as well as our species, and the unique dynamics of our entire school, where secrecy was less of an issue due to the numerous powerful non-disclosure agreements in place.

While here, Charlie used to say he got to be the 'him' he couldn't be anywhere else, authentic. I had always thought of him as a quirky and charming guy, talented at drawing but like all other dorks horny as fuck. He was a good friend, and a lot of fun when we'd sit and dish about those we played with and how wild things got. He had a much weaker constitution with all that then me, so it was quite entertaining to watch his reactions over my stories.

Back then, when Mezza and I began dating, our passion for each other was palpable, and our desire for physical touch was insatiable. We would often engage in flirtatious banter and whisper about our future together, filled with love, laughter, and lust. Charlie would frequently overhear these conversations, and I believe this sparked the idea that would eventually change everything.

At lunch, one day;

"Come on Tish, please? I want to craft a story about the ideal love between husband and wife the way it should be, where relationships work and are everlasting, healthy and abundant. But I want to shroud it in darkness too, twist it to be unique—death, sadness, and the forbidden, while still weaving in some humor and light as well. It'll open minds, be new and exciting. I think people will really love it. And I promise I'll even use your full name instead of what you use now, no one will ever be able to tell it's really you. Please?" Charlie begged me one day at lunch, between classes. He's been begging me for two months now...

"Charlie-barlie, You realize my nickname is created off my full name, right? Morticia, Tish? Plus you plan to use my last name, Frump, pretty sure I'm the only one around with that one. I mean I'm new to humans, but I don't think they're that dumb. Also I'm too dependent on wild passionate sex to settle down like your character does, I'm a succubus, I doubt there's a man who can handle me well enough to change my mind about that!" I try to laugh it off, like I do all the other times.

"Oh, I already have that character in the bag, Tish. The mister to the misses in my story. He says he knows you too, and honestly, I think he is the one to change your mind, I mean he's perfect for you and your demon-pussy. Let me show you?" Charlie turns and waves at someone, but the room is packed so I didn't see who... until a familiar figure then walks up and takes a seat right across from me, his usual scent of Dragon's Blood and Wolf's Bane fill my nose and I hold back from breathing him in deep. Mmmm. My flesh breaks out in goosebumps and my heart skips...

"Hello, Cara Mia, it's nice to see you again." Mezza purrs and my pussy just flutters. I see his nostrils flare and his eyes drill deeper into mine... Can he tell? Tell that he still has a power over me, that I opened his package earlier, and... did what I did? Did he feel it all like the note said he would?... My thoughts fly around like moths panicked by a light.

I take a big gulp, "Hello Mezza."

After Lunch;

I knew I was bound to run into him, ever since I received those packages earlier, letting me know he's here at the same college as me, and very much wanting to pick up where we left things back in highschool. At our last school together, Nevermore, we used to fuck like rabbits in senior year, between classes, and every other moment we found too, just to have something to get us through the boredom and misery our boarding school had to offer. But where most eighteen years old were very new and ignorant in exploring that part of themselves, Mezza and I have always been very meaningful about the intimate connection between us, even when our connection was casual. But this time, his accompanying note, and the package itself, hinted at a deeper desire - he wanted more than just casual encounters. He wanted love, commitment, submission, and devotion. But do I dare to trust that?

I know I said I didn't think there was a man who could change my mind on wanting to settle down, to love, and to create a life with, but truth is there is one. I knew it when I lied to Charlie just a few moments ago, but I never thought that I'd ever see Mezza again and have to face that truth.

Reflecting on all the details of this memory now, over a decade later... a regular afternoon at college, sitting with Charlie and having lunch. Mezza joining us, sitting across from me and gazing into my eyes in that way he did—knowing now what that look really meant... a mix of dominant hunger and deep care. It had been a year at that point, since I'd pushed him away.... the memory of receiving those mysterious packages earlier that morning, hours before lunch, still lingers, and I recall how I was wearing some of the gift he had sent me, hidden beneath my clothes, as Mezza sat right across from me. The secrecy and naughtiness of it all still sends a thrill through me. It was absolutely sinful!

Mezza's standing beside me now, a sly smile spreading across his handsome face, those devilish fangs poking out the way they do, as he watches me recount this moment through my keyboard to you, a reader. I can tell he's remembering it in detail in his head right now...

Excuse us, I think we need a short break before I can tell you the rest.... Someone's hungry.

Chapter 3; Acclimating to a Human life...

It's a Monday morning at Black Spire University. The sky is a deep, foreboding grey, but occasional sunbeams break through the clouds casting a serene glow over the landscape. The plants are rain-kissed, and the air is filled with small droplets of water that glimmer like a thousand little diamonds, bathing everything in a beautiful, ethereal light. The air is crisp and the feeling of peace fills me, my body is charged and humming with joy as I breathe in the scent of damp earth, wet foliage, and the faint hint of lust.

Looking down I watch myself, my pink sensitive lips shifting and sliding as I ride the vibrating dildo I've strapped to my seat. Being part succubus and part witch, I require two diets, the food before me on the white and silver plateware, and the meal buried deep in my cunt, tickling my core and making my pussy weep.

Feeding my own sexual needs doesn't satisfy my succubus hunger as much as sharing the meal with another, sometimes many others in my bed, but for the last year I've struggled with the drive to seek a new partner, so I indulge as often as possible in my toys to compensate for now.

The gentle breeze whispers through my hair, keeping me cool as that hot rush of orgasm flows through me, stirring my thoughts around as I realize it's been a few months since I escaped to this academy, and I'm still basking in the liberation and autonomy it provides. I'm safe, fed well, and given the freedom to sate my needs the way I like, no judgements and plenty of willing participants when I'm ready for one.

When I heard about this college on Earth, designed for hybrids who want to find safety and a fresh start, I knew it was the right place for me. The program they offer helps hybrids to learn how to live among humans, providing resources and support with getting settled and beginning their new lives once they've graduated. A sanctuary where I can leave the shadows of my past and the hate of my own family and community behind and embrace my nature and lifestyle, finding peace and happiness instead.

I am a child born of consequence—unwanted and hated for being a constant reminder of what my parents would rather forget. My father, Detritus, dipping his stick where he shouldn't and having an affair with my mother; the queen of demons, and a succubus to boot, Lillith. Which makes me part witch and part sex demon. Yay, am I right?! As an unwanted child, my life was already difficult, but things took a turn for the worse on my 18th birthday when my dormant powers awakened, exposing my mixed heritage even further, reminding of the things others would prefer to forget, and revealing a new challenge for me: like my mother, I need sex to survive.

My 'family' valued modesty and restraint, so my magical succubus nature was a constant source of tension and shame. Even the town I lived in, vanilla as all hell, and steeped heavily in their conservative values, shamed and bullied me every chance they got. The weight of their disapproval and disgust was crushing at times, making my life a lonely and isolating experience.

I was the embodiment of everything they deemed improper and shameful, but instead of growing to hate myself like they did, I grew to embrace and play with it. Eventually learning my needs are so different, too different, that I needed to find where I fit in. Crossing the boundary from my old life to this one was scary and very lonely, but I've never looked back, because for the first time, I can be myself here, without fear of judgment or rejection. I can let my freak flag fly and always find others who will fly with me. It's a liberating, joyful feeling and I'm so grateful to have found it.

Pulling the dildo from my core with a happy moan, because no matter what, even when blissed out from a recent orgasm, it always feels so fucking good in my pussy, I then use witch's breath and sterilize it. I love magic. Then, I move inside my dorm from the balcony with my plate of human food in hand and sit at the table inside, where I have books spread out to look over in preparation for this morning's classes. But just as I lift my fork, ready to take the first bite while reading a chapter from my textbook; The Witch Trials of Earth & How To Ensure You're Not Next, there's a knock at the door.

"Good morning, young mistress. I was instructed to ensure you open these in complete privacy. Please stay here, while I inspect that your rooms are, in fact, private." On of the Brownie caretakers of the university says in their robotic but friendly, proper tone.

As they set two packages down on the entryway table, they begin to scan my surroundings, verifying that I am in fact, alone. Frozen in surprise that they would just come right in, I sat with a fork hovering in the air, a piece of fruit clinging to it until it slipped off and landed on my plate with a loud, wet plop. My shock may be a bit too dramatic, but I'm not used to people entering my spaces. I'm used to being alone. Suddenly, I realize my robe is still open too, showing that not only am I naked, I just played with myself. I watch as they move effortlessly through my private dorm room and bathroom, their demeanor was eerily casual, their eyes scrutinizing every detail of my space, while never once focusing on me directly, ensuring my privacy to some degree.

"The room is confirmed secure, Madam, I will leave you to open the packages now. I was also instructed to suggest you open the small one first. Do ring if you have a need for something. My lady." They say it fast, on one breath, tipping their head at me as they do, and then just as quickly, they step out the door again, closing it behind.

Um, thanks?

I set my fork down, climb off the stool I was sitting on, secure my robe shut, and head to the door. Opening it I stick my head out, looking for the Brownie's retreating back, but I don't see them anywhere. Glancing back inside, just to double check again that that really did just happen, and seeing the two packages staring right back at me from the table in my entryway...

Yes. Yes, it did.

I look back out the door for them again, and finally accept the fact that they're just gone.