by Jodie Louise
Disclaimer: Black spikes is mine - Kowalski is borrowed.
Author's Notes: Thanks D.
Story Notes: Graphic s/m. I am working on third story at moment which will be less graphic. Even I cannot believe how this story has turned out.
This story is a sequel to: Black Spikes
"Stan"
By Jodie Louise
We are not using real names. He calls me "Spikes" and said that I've got to call him "Stan". Not using real names suits me fine - somehow makes this more exciting, not that it really needed to be anymore exciting that is. Stan is lying on the bed - he reminds me of a cat or lion. Gold skin, gold hair. Beautiful. I remember when I first saw him in the restroom at the punk gig - his blond hair, older than me, skinny, the smudged eyeliner. I met his reflected eyes in the mirror and something pulled at me. But there was also sadness behind those eyes. I wanted to get under his skin, was in lust with him. That is why I grabbed him at the gig. Not in the habit of doing things so upfront. I would've got somewhere too if it hadn't been for Mr Pretty Boy being there. Out of the two I preferred Stan, Mr Pretty seemed too straight laced, too out of his depth in the club. I am pouring hot wax from a candle over Stan's stomach. I can't imagine Pretty Boy doing this - Stan must've been getting very frustrated if this is the sort of stuff which turns him on. At first I was scared of what he wanted me to do, but then I thought I'm young and I was at a fetish club so I have to expect people I pick up in fetish clubs to, well, have a fetish of one kind or another. Mine is wearing leather, a lot tamer than Stan's fetish. We went back to my apartment - small, dank, dark. Lots of candles `cos the electricity is always playing up. Stan's eyes went as wide as dinner plates when he saw the candles - I tried not to gape when he told me what he wanted done. I had to tie him to the bed with socks. And I really hope my mom never finds out about this; it is bad enough that I go for guys let alone do stuff like this. I'll try most things once though. Stan is still rock hard and groaning. He is enjoying the pain. I'm surprised at myself and am enjoying doing this to Stan, enjoying hurting another person. I never had myself down as a sadist but I s'pose you find out something new about yourself all the time. Of course I would have preferred doing the sex in a more conventional way, well as conventional as you can get if you're into wearing leather, but you know what I mean. A bit of mild bondage...not this...but I agreed and now I am enjoying it. I agreed because Stan is hot and I wanted him something chronic. Older men can show you the way - Stan is showing me a whole new way, a whole different world. Never thought I'd enjoy this world as much as I am. "Spikes, hit me with your belt." I look at Stan - it is the first thing he has said for a very long time apart from the moans of course. I nod and undo my belt. It is black leather, wide, heavy with small metal studs. This is gonna cause some damage but seeing Stan so far I don't think he'll hardly notice. Still... "Stan?" "Huh?" "Are you sure about this? I mean this belt will really mess you up." "Just fucking do it, Spikes." I am taking orders from someone I have tied to a bed. This seems a bit weird to me. The first lash comes down hard and he rises up into the blow. I do it again, and again, and again. I have started to draw blood from him. Still he is hard. "Fuck me." he gasps. I hold him by the hips. The first time I notice the dragon tattoo - like something I might see on a packet of Chinese food. Blue. I brush the tattoo with my thumb. I thrust fingers in to stretch him. I then let go and get up to go to the bedside table. I pull a condom over my erection, I then open the drawer. His eyes crack open looking at me questioningly. "Got to get the lube." I explain. "No. Without." "Stan -" "Fuck me without the lube." I don't say anything and hold him at the hips again, positioning us both. Condom's got a bit of lube on anyway - shouldn't be too bad. I push and I'm in - so tight - and I can see the blood around Stan's hole - and before I can do anything he is thrusting right on to me. Horrified. Turned on. Harder than I'd ever been in my whole entire life. Then I realise he has turned me as twisted as he is. And I come.
End Stan by Jodie Louise: jodie.mouse@virgin.net
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