(Fingers crossed) I’m submitting to Sassafras Lowery’s upcoming collection of BDSM fairy tales, Leather Ever After. I started writing little snapshots every Sunday a few months ago, to get in the mood and see what struck my fancy. Here are a few that didn’t become my submission!
“Little Red Riding Hood”
“The better to eat you with, bitch,” growled the wolf. Her palms, thick with calluses, bruised Red Riding Hood’s wrists as the wolf pinned her arms along her sides atop the antique quilt. She felt a long, rough lick down her belly, and then hot breath on her cunt. She’d seen the wolf’s tongue at work before, at other play parties, on other girls; she could imagine it, long, dark pink. She didn’t have to imagine the saliva dripping onto her labia, cooling quickly, just missing her clit. She felt herself get wetter in response, thought about the wolf’s half-grin, sharp teeth close to tender pussy. A wave of fear raised the fine hairs of her body; she felt the cresting of the wave in her clit. The wolf’s warm breath dampened the pubes on her mons, and she lifted her hips towards the heat but got nothing. The wolf made no sound, but Red Riding Hood thought she could feel her smile spread wider, her eyes narrow in pleasure and calculation.
The wolf’s warm breath moved away from Red Riding Hood’s clit, and she grew still, waiting and listening for clues. There were none, for the wolf was cunning, silent until her teeth nipped Red Riding Hood’s inner thigh, a pinch that was tiny, thus sharp, which would be purple in a few hours. The wolf placed another just north of the first, teeth and tongue on tiny creases of flesh, working up her right thigh. At the top, Red Riding Hood felt the heat of the wolf’s mouth come closer, felt her cunt get warmer and wetter, and then felt the wolf’s teeth close lightly around her whole pussy. Lips followed teeth; she sucked Red Riding Hood’s whole cunt without putting her tongue on her, tasted her without licking, and released an instant later.
Red Riding Hood whimpered; the wolf smirked and started on the other thigh.
Not a few minutes before, the butch had said to Goldilocks, “It feels good to hold you.”
Well. She was still holding her; they just weren’t spooning anymore. The butch had fisted a hand in her gold locks, pulling her up to sink teeth into the smooth neck flesh below before dropping her back onto the bed. Earlier, she’d bound Goldilocks’ wrists by wrapping her thick leather belt around them and buckling it loosely, a hint but not a promise. Goldilocks was a quiet girl, and they hadn’t talked about this, this being fucking after a beating. She found herself a little scared—the butch wasn’t much taller than her, but could throw her around like she weighed almost nothing, especially with the belt to use as a handle. But the butch had been patient in choosing the cane that was just right, and attentive as she used them, so Goldilocks told herself to calm the fuck down. A little fear is part of the fun, after all.
Meanwhile the butch’s nails raked stripes down her back, another layer of pattern over the mottled marks from the earlier flogging.
“You wanted a dress the color of the sky, so I took the guys to the top of the tallest peak to steal skeins of the bluest. You wanted a dress the color of the moon, so we went to the North Pole on the winter solstice to capture the brightest glow. You wanted a dress the color of the sun, so we journeyed west to the farthest coast of the summerlands to trap the most golden rays. I brought them all back, and I had the weaver weave them and the tailor tailor them, and you have your dresses. So don’t be a brat. Say, ‘Thank you, Daddy’.”
“The Little Mermaid”
It wasn’t until all the smoke and glitter dust cleared that she realized she was naked. She’d known she’d have to give up something, and as the mermaid with the fairest voice in all the west sea, she hadn’t been surprised when the exacted price for the Sea Witch’s magic was just that. Lorë had agreed, her voice in exchange for legs, and the Sea Witch had begun her chanting rasping incantations, and as she chanted and rasped a wind rose up seemingly from her palms, turned dark and lifted Lorë into the air, sending her flying. When she landed, she had legs. Long legs, covered in fine hairs even more translucent than the gold on her head, and as she noticed them, she noticed that she was naked, a few smudges of dark mauve soot streaking her ribs and hips and thighs. She looked up to see the Sea Witch standing over her, face turned in profile, dark hair streaming away from her swooping eyebrows, drawn together in slight scorn. The Sea Witch looked down, her eyes pinning Lorë to the wall behind her, and raised one eyebrow. Lorë felt herself suddenly wet from inside herself and looked down confused—this never happened when she had a tail!
She could feel the Sea Witch’s eyes on her bowed neck. The Sea Witch stepped closer and the toes of her black leather boots appeared in Lorë’s line of vision.
The words were confusing, but Lorë knew what she meant. She could feel the wetness dripping, feel where it left her body and soaked into the floor. The boots moved closer.
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