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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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So you want to seduce me. Pay attention.
No, this isn’t a list that I’m giving you, I mean “pay attention”.
Read my profile. Carefully. All the information you need is there if you have the intelligence to read.
Like rose petals to a candlelight bedroom, the path is clearly laid out. I am no innocent Red Riding Hood unaware of the wolves. I know the alpha type I look for and he is not a bully, or a show off but he is direct. He commands and I want to obey. He smiles and my day brightens.
Do you know what you want? Are you yet another who will message with lies of your experience, your desire to explore but what you want is a teacher, a domme and someone who will take control? You are not what I seek. If you cannot pay attention to a few paragraphs, how attentive will be you when exploring me? If you waiver on what you want, how can you take control of me?
Are you a seeker of a quick thrill or the satisfying depths engaging mind and body? Attention to detail. To the way she catches her breath when you stroke a single nail down her neck. The look in her eyes as you politely tell her what you will and will not brook as you offer her your hand, your kiss. Is the reward worth the risk for Red Riding Hood to stray from the straight and narrow? She knows what lies in the woods and the dangers untold. Her cloak hides the daggers she knows how to use, her memory is long and she knows the thrill of the chase and the hunt from both sides. If you want to catch her, you will need to pay attention, you will need to know exactly what you want because you may get it.
She may step from the path, hand in yours and kneel in a secluded spot, just the two of you. Allowing you to take away that cloak and see the woman beneath, naked and vulnerable, yours to command and obedient to you. Her eyes gazing up at you as you take what you want, giving her what she needs.
She may follow you from the path and turn with a grin and a wink, “Catch me if you can”. She hopes you can but she is not yet assured of you. Chase her. Be quick. Grab her by the hair and press her against the tree, sliding your hands up her dress as you whisper in her ear, explaining how she will submit and will kneel and how good that will feel. She will have no choice as she willingly bares her neck without a single drop of blood or voice raised. Yours.
The reward not worth the risk? The possibility of a truly satisfying meal does not appeal to all. Some are stray dogs, roaming in packs, happy to take what scraps they can.
Are you a wolf or a dog?
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The Wolf would surely take its time with its prey.
The prey would stay pressed against the tree, confusing contradictory thoughts running through her head. Is she scared? Aroused? Whatever her true feelings, which seem to allude her, she is unable to move as the Wolf paces around her, pinned to the tree. She wants to look but somehow knows this would be wrong. She listens to the footsteps moving around the tree, she hears the breathing which suddenly starts to get heavier and louder. It is with a gasp of realisation and sexual ecstasy that she realises that the louder increased breathing is not he who has placed her in this charged and erotic encounter; it's her own. |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Delicious, sweet arousal as fear courses through her veins. She could reach for her daggers but she does not. Her self-awareness is true, a risk taken in full knowledge that with each pass, each step bringing them closer, each heartbeat loud in her ears,she submits more and more.
A choice to remain until the Wolf brushes against her skin and she can barely keep from crying out as she presses her thighs together. |
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She cannot escape the knowledge that, even with her daggers so sharp with which she could easily disable this thing before her, she is a prisoner of her own chemistry.
That which courses through her veins, which makes her brain tingle as much as that which she can feel pressed tightly between her legs. That feeling, more than anything facing her, makes her more of a prisoner. |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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"She cannot escape the knowledge that, even with her daggers so sharp with which she could easily disable this thing before her, she is a prisoner of her own chemistry.
That which courses through her veins, which makes her brain tingle as much as that which she can feel pressed tightly between her legs. That feeling, more than anything facing her, makes her more of a prisoner. "
Her eyes closed to the light and shapes around her, she turns slowly, palms feeling the roughness of the bark and tilts her head back. Life without this struggle, without the opportunity to feed her needs and desires, to submit - it is bland and formless. It is without risk but it is a lie.
Her throat bared she waits, accepting as tears fall down her cheeks in release. |
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She hears a blade being unsheathed slowly, making it tease even more. A footstep, the air between them building in pressure, her breathing stops as she senses an object moving in front of her. She feels it as the blade moves up her legs, even before it makes contact with her bare tingling skin.
It first caresses her body just below the knee, on the inside. She feels it dance its way up between her legs, never quite touching and yet making the desire she felt within, flood through her as if it had cut deeply. As the sensation passes her knees, approaching her still tightly clenched thighs, she found herself slowly opening her legs. Wider and the sensation would continue. Feeling the air rush between her legs encouraged her to spread them more.
The almost imperceptible blade kept its course and rythm up, she could almost predict where and when her next convulsion of intense orgasmic pleasure would emenate from. But no, the moment passed, nothing. Just as the thought to open her eyes began to slowly creap into her over stimulated brain, she felt a shift in the air promptly replaced by a cold hard blade; pressed against her throbbing mound. Before she can react, the blade presses harder, she can feel the heat of her want as the blade starts to warm.
In a flash it is withdrawn, with an audible sound, the arm holding it rose high into the cool air of the forest before being brought down again with some considerable speed and ferocity.
It stops, creating a small v in her neck as the blade pushes to part her skin; to penetrate her.
All too quickly it is removed, replaced by hot breath where her skin was possibly turning red. A kiss? Her neck is caressed with the lightest touch of lips, warm and wet. They move around her neck where she still feels the weight of the cold unyielding blade. |
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"Oh fuck.
Consider me seduced.
Very seduced.
Erm, I need to retire for a bit but will be back to this...(scrambles around for batteries)"
Now that is the most positive response I have ever had for my writing  |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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"Seduction was never my intent, merely to respond to your initial post. I am filled with satisfaction that it had such a positive, if unexpected, result. "
You did seduce me with words.  I enjoyed it. |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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A whimper escapes from her mouth, body tense. She is grateful for the strength of the tree even as it abrades her skin, for without it, she would have slid down to kneel before him.
She longs to open her eyes but in the darkness she can be free from the shackles of reality. The sting of the blade serves only to awaken here more and she knows her musky scent betrays her further. With eyes closed she need not worry that her gaze will betray the need screaming to escape from her, too long buried and suppressed.
She whimpers again. |
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"A whimper escapes from her mouth, body tense. She is grateful for the strength of the tree even as it abrades her skin, for without it, she would have slid down to kneel before him.
She longs to open her eyes but in the darkness she can be free from the shackles of reality. The sting of the blade serves only to awaken here more and she knows her musky scent betrays her further. With eyes closed she need not worry that her gaze will betray the need screaming to escape from her, too long buried and suppressed.
She whimpers again."
As she does, she finds her hands lowering, lingering, but steadily moving towards the ache that is present below her waist. Quivering as the lips touch her neck she jumps ever so slightly; was that a tongue she felt?
Her fingertips make contact with her skin, just above her breasts. Slowly they play over her breasts; small but sensitive she has always been proud of her form, comfortable in her own skin.
The only problem was that it didn't feel like her smooth pale skin. It felt electrified, much warmer than she could ever recall, almost alien in its kinesthetic. As these almost detached hands reached her engorged nipples, her earlier whimpers turned to a low, building moan.
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Arching her back she wants to feel the Wolf's touch. Her own she is familiar with. Her movements uncontrolled as she craves sensation.
A solo exploration is not what she seeks.
"Please?" Her moan begs, wanton desire as cool air teases her sensitive skin and she moves her legs apart further.
"Please..."
The sharp metal on her soft inner thigh, the merest touch and she begs, "Please!"
Almost losing control again as teeth graze her neck, taking her throat and steadily applying pressure.
Her hands and feet scramble as she tries to find purchase, safety in this precarious need, "Oh! Please!" |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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A gate opens and words tumble unbidden from her lips as she begs, she begs with her hips thrusting, fingers gripping tightly, pulse racing, "Pleasepleasepleaseplease....!"
Yet still she does not reach out, still she does not open her eyes for fear that this may go away, for fear that the light of day may slam shut the doors to her desire.
"Please..." |
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