1. Bitch and Dicking: Prologue


    Date: 8/24/2015, Categories: Fiction, Authoritarian, BDSM, Consensual Sex, Domination/submission, Young, Author: Liv Beornwulf, Rating: 33.3, Source: sexstories.com

    strut ahead up till I am standing before his very unblinking eyes so as to kneel and bow myself down before his kingly-like presence. Then I look up right unswerving direct into his eyes with my mouth dropped and sagging wide open, and after I have done this, I stir and move myself way close and more closer to him while caressing and stroking kindly and steadily unhurried his manly and woman-arousing chest. His eyes brighten and flare up with all this. I can see the fire of lust and sex burning and devouring right deeper into the depths of his priceless soul. Those feelings and torments of lust………..they are what he precisely and exactly wants to be furnished and afflicted with right this particular moment. “Dicking, I want to sincerely apologize for turning up here this late and behind time.” He stirs, then blinks his eyes suddenly and abruptly at long last. I don’t exactly know how he does it. He just does it anyway. It is all done and carried out too fast and nearly almost indescribable that I do not even step-by-step follow what is taking place here. Snappily fast, he tugs and pushes me away from him, going on to brutally and in a cruelly seemingly manner hurl and chuck me down undeviating towards the floor. There is a wool carpet spread down here, where I hit and thwack my head wonderfully and brilliantly enjoyable instead of it being painful and stinging-like. He is then fast right there on top of me, his flesh and body touching me, hugging mine to be exact so that I ...
    don’t feel any more cold and like I am freezing bit by bit. “Dicking,” I say and whisper his name for a second time. “Yes, Bitch.” I am Tori Bitch. This is my name. Don’t think that I bitch and dick around with men and playboys alike of all sorts and types. Bitch is both my surname and last name. My father had it, and so did my grandfather, and grand-grandfather carry it too. They are all dead and inexistent anyway, except my dad himself. Rhys here is named Rhys Dicking. Dicking is his truest birth name. I wonder—why we of all people in the world have to be named and labeled up like this? Why us specifically? “I love you,” I say truthfully from the darkest bottom and pit-less-breath of my very own heart. Rhys surveys and looks around my facial expression and glance. He can see that this is the whole unreserved truth. I love him……and he wants me too on the opposed hand. If only he was not any Incubus. If only…………… “I am hungry, Bitch, have I told you this?” Yes! We don’t call each other by our first names but surnames we prefer our surnames instead. We are like the worst perverse and wicked kind of a couple to ever have being. Dicking is hungry. Okay. His kind feeds on only one thing—sex, and not any form of physical and touchable food. Of course! They do eat and play around with food inside their mouths. But that never makes them really and to the last hilt full. They always want sex for bodily satisfaction and nourishment, always for breakfast and lunch and closingly super. If ...
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