Dirty Erotic Oneshots

can't tell you, Daddy," I replied, still sniffling, "you'll kill him."

Dad didn't like that answer but he didn't push.

 

 

~~~~~~

At some point I recalled my conversation with Gran at Mom's funeral reception: "He'll need your help Robyn. Please do what you can for him." Did she know about his night-time, um, amorousness? I wondered if there was a story there. Maybe I'll ask her one day.

 

~~~~~~

 

Now, 6 months later, Dad still visits me in my bed almost every night but it seems he knows I'm pregnant and is careful not to be too rough, so as to not hurt the baby.

I think Stacy might know the truth about the baby but she hasn't said anything. We don't seem to be getting along as well as we used to, though, so I don't know what's going to happen there.

 

~~~~~~

 

I went and curled up in Dad's lap while he was sitting on the couch. His strong arms surrounded me.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Can we raise this baby as if it was yours and m-Mom's?" I looked up into his eyes.

"What about the father?" He had asked about him occasionally, and I still refused to tell.

"He's not around," I replied, half-truthfully. It was daytime, after all.

b d s m

 

 

Quiet day in the book store. One browser that Ann could see, and she returned to her surreptitious reading behind the counter, keeping an eye on the browser - a woman with long, brown-blonde hair. She was a semi-regular in the store, and Ann knew she'd be over with her purchase before too long.

Silence.

Until the bell hung over the door rang, a silvery tinkle. Ann looked up as the new customer entered the store. Tall man, wearing an overcoat. He wandered through the stacks, heading always in the direction of the woman browsing the shelves.

Ann smiled a little; obviously not here for the books. Midday assignation, perhaps? Both were in what might be called business attire, although the woman's skirt was a little shorter and tighter than she'd ever have considered wearing to work. As she watched covertly, the man made his way over to the woman, one hand in his pocket, speaking to her quietly then putting his free hand on her arm. A few more quiet words, and she put the book back on the shelf, walked with him out of the store.

Lucky, lucky, lucky, Ann thought, then returned to her book.

---

The gun hadn't come all the way out of his pocket; it hadn't needed to. Ellie had blinked at the glimpse she'd gotten of it.

"Just act normally," he said. "Behave, and no harm will come to you. Now put the book back on the shelf and walk out of the store. Don't run, don't try to signal anyone for help. Understand."

Light-headed, she nodded, put the book back and did as ordered.

The street wasn't too busy - the book store was in an out-of-the-way location, with not much through-traffic. Very few passers-by too, and none of the few even glanced sideways at the apparent couple walking down the street.

"Just keep walking," he said. "We're aiming for that dark green car up there, see?"

Ellie nodded, not trusting her voice.

Closer to the car, he pulled out a set of keys and pressed a button; lights flashed, and she heard the 'clunk' of locks unlocking.

"Get in the passenger seat," he said.

She did, sitting frozen as he walked around to the driver's side. Keys in the ignition and all the doors locked again with another solid 'thunk', but he didn't turn the engine on. "Open the glove box," he said. "Give me what you find in there."

Ellie swallowed, did so, and sat staring at the pair of handcuffs - matte black metal, cold, purposeful. He took them from her, directed her to sit forward in her seat and face away from him, with her hands behind her back. She shivered at the touch of cold metal on her wrists and the ratcheting sound as he fastened them.

"What - what are you doing, what do you want?" She'd found her voice, a tiny squeak.

"Shut up," he said. "You don't speak unless you're responding to a direct question. Now, sit back; I'm going to put your seatbelt on; I'll be leaning across you, and you might think that would be a good opportunity to attack me. That would be a bad idea - all you'd do is annoy me and you couldn't get out of the car with your hands cuffed like that anyway." He smiled a little. "Plus, I still have that gun...."

So she sat still, trembling, as he seatbelted her in, started the engine and drove off.

Traffic was a blur to her, twenty minutes of confusion as he drove, not allowing her to speak, until he pulled into a garage, the door closing automatically behind them. Her wrists and arms had begun to ache from being cuffed behind her so, in one way, she was grateful the ride was over. Now that it was, though...what now?

He got out of the car, and Ellie watched him apprehensively as he circled the car, coming around to her side and opening the door.

"I'm going to lean across you and undo your seatbelt," he said. "Same caution as before; don't even think about trying to knee me in the head or anything."

She might be able to knock him out like that - but it was a big 'might'. Not certain enough; better to wait for another, more certain, chance. The seatbelt retracted smoothly and she, anticipating, started to stand. His hand on her shoulder stopped that. "Not yet."

He dipped into the overcoat pocket again and her eyes widened; a collar of broad, black leather, metal leash already attacked to a D ring at its front. He let the leash unwind.

"Lean forward," he said.

She did, feeling her hair falling forward, exposing the back of her neck. The collar settled in place around her throat. She felt its weight, closing her eyes as he locked it in place.

"Get used to the way that feels," he said. "You're mine now; my property. You obey me, you belong to me. I'll train you - you obey me."

She shivered as he took up the end of the leash.

"Out of the car, slave, and follow me."

He led her through the house to the bedroom, taking one last item from his coat pocket; a large, heavy padlock that he used to attach the end of the leash to the wrought iron at the bed's foot.

"I don't underst..." The word turned into a yelp as his hand came down hard on her ass.

"You don't need to understand anything," he said. "All you need to do is realise a few things. First, I've just kidnapped you; you are in my power. You're my possession. If I were you, I'd obey; you have a great deal riding on your ability to please me from now on, slave."

"My name..." Another yelp.

"Your name is whatever I say it is," he said. "Right now, I say your name is 'slave'. That may change." She felt his hands on her ass, caressing instead of spanking, working up under her skirt and finding the bare skin beneath. "In fact, given how you're dressed - or not dressed - I may change it right now, to 'slut'. You're asking for trouble, dressing like this. That's one reason I picked you, you know - always in short skirts, and I've always wondered what you wore underneath them."

Ellie felt his hands working the skirt up over her hips, and dropped her head, face flushed. "Please, don't..."

Another hard spank, making her cry out. "I think you need a lesson in how to obey my orders, slave. I've told you to be quiet, but you keep ignoring me."

A quiet, metallic sound; the handcuffs released. Then a sudden, hard shove, pushing her forward into the bed.

"On the bed, face down."

She obeyed as best she could. The leash meant she had to turn around so her head was at the foot end of the bed. Something wrapped around one ankle - more leather, a leather cuff being padlocked into place. The rattle of chain, her foot being dragged backwards and another padlock chaining it into place. The other ankle then, treated the same way; when she kicked out, it didn't do any good, only earned her another smack. Wrists were next, fixed in place the same way, leaving her spreadeagled face down on the bed, skirt bunched up over her hips, shirt still in place.

"Excellent," he said. "Just one thing...." The sound of a drawer in the nightstand being opened, and then metal against her skin - scissors, he was cutting her clothes off, starting at the hem of her skirt and working his way upwards, cutting through her shirt and bra, baring her back.

"Much better." Satisfaction in his voice. "Now, lesson time. Today's lesson is obedience, slut; I ordered you to be silent unless ordered, so the punishment should fit the crime, I think."

The sound of rummaging in the drawer, and he walked back to her head holding...it looked like a big ball of firm red foam centred on a leather strap. "Ball gag," he said. "It should keep you satisfactorily quiet. Open wide."

When she tried to resist by clamping her mouth shut, he dealt with it by the simple expedient of pinching her nose shut until she had to open her mouth to breathe. Once she did, it was a simple matter for him to force the spongy ball into her mouth and buckle the strap around her head. Ellie could feel the gag distorting her mouth, puffing her cheeks out - and reducing her protests to a series of barely audible squeaks.

He disappeared from her field of vision for a few moments, and reappeared holding something new. Whatever reaction showed on her face - Ellie suspected it was wide-eyed terror - seemed to please him, for he swung the flogger in front of her eyes several times. Black and purposeful as the handcuffs - she felt her eyes go wider. "Please, don't," she tried to say; all that came out was a faint 'eeh oh'.

A step or two backwards. "Are you ready, slut?" he asked. A pause while he listened to her attempts to beg him not to use the flogger on her, she'd do anything if only he wouldn't hurt her - then he swung.

Red hot stinging strike across her shoulders, and she yelped around the gag. That was only the first in a series; he started across her shoulders, worked his way steadily down her body to the bottom of her ribcage - skipped a bit, then