When Erotica Turns into Reality
"The Editor," a Licorice Whips short story by Amanda Earl
"How many rewrites can he possibly demand?" Bettina wondered. "Maybe I should just send the story to a different editor."
She knew she shouldn't keep trying, but she kept thinking that one last effort on her part would satisfy him. And she wanted to satisfy him.
She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about the way this editor worked with her. It made her feel...not special. No, that wasn't the right word. Singled out. Yes, that was it.
She wondered about the editor, but had never even seen the man. Since he spent so much time on her story, she imagined he did so as a labor of love, or perhaps lust.
Her throat went dry and her belly tightened as she let the word roll inside her mouth. Lust. A labor of lust. Maybe reading the stories turned him on. The thought of this man, potentially aroused by her story, was enough to make Bettina fidget in her chair. She needed a break.
This was the difficulty with writing erotic stories. The imagination created the itch and the itch had to be scratched. She went into the bedroom and closed the door. She slipped quickly out of her clothes, but left her bra and panties on. She opened the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out her clit vibe, then turned on the DVD player. Naturally her favorite film was still in place.
She watched as Mr. Wendell Roberts, the head librarian pulled Chloe, the student with the late fees, over his knee. Bettina turned her vibe on. Roberts raised the woman's short plaid skirt. Bettina spread her legs. Chloe wriggled on his lap and begged him to be gentle. Bettina slid one side of her own white panties down her hip and stroked the smooth white skin of her buttocks. The librarian caressed the round bottom cheeks of his victim, then smack! Bettina pushed a finger into her cunt. Smack! She used her other hand to move the vibe up to the hardening bud of her clit. Smack. The woman was pleading for more now.
The librarian's hand reached beneath her skirt. The camera angle changed and Bettina was given a detailed glimpse of one wet gash, oozing cum. Then the camera changed again as he slapped her hard on the ass. Bettina saw the red hand mark and it sent her over. She humped and humped against the vibrator as the volley of smacks continued, her own moans matching the moans of the willing victim. The vibrator buzzed and throbbed against her clit and she thrust her hips a few last times for the aftershock, squeezing out every last drop of her orgasm. She sighed as the tremors ended. Her clit continued to tremble as the orgasm subsided. She closed her eyes, dropped the vibe and waited for her heart to resume its normal rhythm.
She put on a loose grey robe and returned to her desk. After a sip of cold water, she penned an e-mail to the editor with an idea. Her throat felt parched as she typed. She gulped another big swallow of water. Her breath rose and fell sharply as she contemplated his response. Would it please him? Maybe it would even arouse him. She'd never tried it, but stories involving master and slave turned her on. She'd read a lot of them, so she thought it would make sense.
Her thoughts returning to the porn video she'd just watched, she found herself imagining herself over the editor's lap. His strong hands curled around her firm buttocks, tracing the two dimples on either side of the crack of her ass as he prepared her to receive the sharp, stinging pain from the flat of his hand. She was wet again.
This time she didn't turn on porn or return to the bedroom. She threw off her robe, as if he had ordered her to strip. Placing a cushion in the middle of the futon, she lowered herself down to her hands and knees, and pressed her ass out. What would his voice sound like as he commanded her? She spread her legs and pushed herself against the cushion, firmer than most because it was often used for this purpose, and she needed it hard, not too giving. She humped her wet cunt over the cushion and felt the hard nub of corduroy rub against her clit. Her tits stiffened as she imagined the editor's ink-stained fingers squeezing her nipples, turning them red, red for him. Like her ass. Marking her. Using her. She cried out. Her cunt seeped thick cum onto the cushion.
The day was flying by. She'd had two orgasms, one walk, no lunch and one great story idea. She checked her e-mail again, but still no word.
She fiddled around and sorted books for a bit, tidying up her desk. Couldn't figure out what to do with herself. If only he would e-mail. Let her know one way or the other.
The ringing of the telephone jarred her out of her increasingly horny thoughts. She picked up the receiver.
"Bettina Brixton?"
"Yes?"
"This is Hamilton Cheevers."
This was him. Her editor. The one she'd never heard from before. And he was calling her. Now.
"Are you there, Ms. Brixton?"
His voice was older. Maybe late fifties or early sixties, hard to tell, but the tones were sophisticated with the trace of an English accent. Nothing extreme. Very educated sounding.
"Sssorry," she said, stammering. "Yes. I'm Bettina. So nice of you to call. What made you call me after all this time? Are you calling long distance?"
Suddenly she paused, realizing she was simpering non-stop. She took a deep breath and calmed herself.
"So kind of you to call."
"That's better Ms. Brixton. Your latest idea is spot on. I'm glad you finally understand what I wanted."
"Thank you..uh..." She realized she didn't know what to call him.
"Sir. You may call me sir, Ms. Brixton. And I shall call you Tina."
"Tina. Yes, thank you, sir."
"Do you have much experience with dominance and submission?"
"Actually, nothing real." She started to squirm, feeling very uncomfortable after her last fantasy involving the editor.
"Well, you'll need to do some research. At least read and perhaps chat with a few people in the lifestyle. I'll e-mail you some sources. Do you think you can have the draft back to me in a week or so?"
"Yes, sir. Absolutely."
"Excellent. Good girl, Tina. Let's talk again after I've read your latest draft. You've got quite a gift as a storyteller."
Bettina's heart raced.
"Thank you, sir," she said, stumbling once more on her speech.
"Next time we talk, I do hope you're more comfortable, Tina. Goodbye."
Bettina put the phone down. In her mind she replayed the conversation. Why couldn't she be suave and sophisticated instead of awkward? There was nothing awkward about him. He sounded calm and self-assured with a commanding voice. Yes, commanding. Her cunt quivered at the thought. She checked her e-mail and found one from him with a list of books, Internet sites and a chat room recommendation.
She felt like a young girl, being taught by an exacting schoolmaster. Her tits swelled at the thought of his hands on her, but she ignored the feeling, or rather she channeled it into her writing.
She mused about the editor while she worked in elements of dominance to her story. She could sense the characters taking shape. The phone interrupted her thoughts. She picked up the receiver and said "hello" in a rather breathless voice.
"Am I disturbing you, Tina?" said the editor.
"Oh, no. No, sir. I was just deep into the story." She paused and he said nothing. The air over the phone crackled between them. She cleared her dry throat. "A flogging scene actually." Once more, a long pause on the other end. She held herself still, sat up straight in her chair, stopped playing with her hair.
"Wonderful. Well, don't let me take up your time. I just wanted you to know about the upcoming fet show and sale in Toronto next weekend. Thought you might want to go. I'll be there representing our publishing house. It would be an opportunity for us to meet."
Bettina's hands grew damp as she grasped the receiver tightly to her ear and she took a deep, calming breath, lowering her voice.
"Really? You want to meet? Oh, I'd like that."
"I'll send you the information then. But I expect that rewrite before then. We can discuss it when you arrive."
"Yes, sir. I look forward to it. Thanks for thinking of me."
"You're welcome. You sound calmer now. You have a beautiful voice, Tina."
He hung up and Bettina just stared at the telephone, until the recording came on telling her to hang up. She'd pleased him. She let the thought shiver over her body. Soon she would meet him. She tingled with anticipation from her head right to her sopping wet cunt. Now she'd have to redouble her efforts to finish the story. She really needed to talk to people in the lifestyle. She went to the chat room the editor mentioned.
Soon she struck up a conversation with Renaissance Master. It wasn't long before they moved into private chat. The conversation moved into a discussion of what he liked about dominance, and it turned her on completely.
"You're an intriguing woman," RM typed. "I enjoy a woman who intrigues me. And reward her for doing so."
Through her loose robe, Bettina glided her hand down to her cunt, and slipped her fingers inside to feel the sticky juices of her arousal.
"Just how would you reward her?"
"First I'd bend her over my knee..."
"Mmm, that sounds very rewarding to me." Bettina used one hand to type now as she traced her fingers along her parted sex lips.
"To me too. I can't resist a sexy, vulnerable ass over my knee, just begging to be spanked. Do you like that idea?"
"God, yes. I'd love to be spanked." She leaned close to the screen, pressing her cunt down onto the black leather chair, moving up and down as she read his words.
"And I would love to take you over my knee, but only after you'd served me. Would you like that? Would you like to serve me?"
"Yes, I dream of serving you."
"Are you naked?"
"No. I have a robe on."
"Remove it for me." Bettina threw off her robe and it landed in a grey puddle by her feet.
"Yes, sir. It's off now."
"Good girl. Now while I speak, take your fingers and touch your cunt as if I am touching it. Tease your clit as if my tongue is on it. Imagine you feel the fire of my breath against your skin."
"Yes sir." Bettina trembled as she followed his commands. He couldn't see her, but she knew that he must be getting aroused by her obedience.
"I want you to tell me between one and five how close you are to coming. Imagine I order you to your knees and tell you to crawl. Number please."
"Two." Bettina's two fingers moved inside her cunt as she raised it toward the screen and then back down.
"I tell you to lie down on your stomach and attach cuffs to your wrists and ankles, then chain you to the bed. You cannot move."
"Three." Bettina's juices coated her fingers as she pushed her body back down onto the chair.
"I walk to the head of the bed. You notice a long red flogger in my hand. I let you smell the leather of its suede lashes. So soft but so capable of causing pain. You want that pain. One day I'll make you beg for it."
"Four." Bettina rubbed her clit with her thumb as she humped hard and fast against the chair.
"Are you close? Tell me, do you want to come?"
"Pllleaassee," she typed slowly with one hand while the other was lost inside her frenzied cunt. Her tits were hard and swollen and she needed him to release her.
"Come then. Come for me."
Her body shoved itself hard against the chair as the orgasm pounded through her.
"5," she typed as the juices flowed down her legs.
"Good girl. I hope one day to see you do that for me. Now goodnight little one. Time for you to dream."
"Thank you so much. G'night to you, sir."
Bettina grew very excited about meeting the editor. Her story glistened with layers of
meaning, sensual descriptions, well-honed characters and a sizzling plot. She was very proud of it when she sent it to him. She hoped he would like it.
A few days before the trip, she received a package in the mail. Through the brown paper, it felt yielding. She turned it over and saw the name of the editor on the return address. Her stomach churned and the pulse at her throat beat strongly. With trembling fingers she opened the package. There was a note, but she took no notice at first. Instead her fingers flowed through the dress, made of some light gossamer material, in ash grey. Beneath the dress was a charcoal velvet choker. She wrapped it around her neck immediately and felt a surge of desire course through her so strongly she had to kneel. It was then that she spied the note: precise and neat black ink on crisp, white stationery.
"Your story is perfect, Tina. Please meet me at the Royal York Hotel. There will be a message for you at the desk. Wear the dress, and the collar. No underwear or bra."
Her fingers slid down to her cunt, so wet, so needy. She couldn't stand it. She dropped to the floor and spread her legs, pressing her fingers against her hard clit and rubbing and rubbing until she came, the collar surrounding her neck. Possessing her. She wanted to serve this man. Had never felt such an urge before, but she knew it was right and he knew it was right. He trusted her to obey him and she would.
She took the train in to Toronto a day early and got her hair done. She also indulged in a Brazilian to remove all the hairs on her cunt. She wanted to look perfect to him. As the hot wax ripped the hair from her body, she cried out in pleasure and pain. Imagined his whip on her bare mound, rubbing along her sexlips, covered with her juices of surrender.
The clock marched slowly along as she waited to see him. They'd agreed to meet at seven p.m. She'd gone out for a bit, but couldn't concentrate, so she'd ended up in her room at the Royal York, and did the only thing she could to calm herself. She wrote.
Lost in thought she was almost late. She changed quickly into her dress and called downstairs for her message. She was to go to room 332.
She composed herself, ran a comb through her hair, applied her lipstick with trembling fingers and left her room. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door to his room.
"Enter," she heard through the door. The voice was strong and she felt any nervousness evaporate as she walked into the suite. "Good evening, Tina. You look ravishing."
There he was. Hamilton Cheevers. The editor. He stood there, looking down at her. She felt his gaze rove down her body.
"You wore it," he said, touching her collar.
"Yes, sir. Don't I always obey you?"
"So you do. You wouldn't be here otherwise." He motioned to a small table. "Now let's eat. I want to get to know you further, Tina."
"And I you, sir." While she was excited, she also felt very calm.
He held the chair for her and she sat, impressed by his impeccable manners. It had been years since any man had shown her such respect. They chatted about everything while they ate, and then they discussed her story.
"I was impressed at how well you described your character's desire to submit. Have you always known you were submissive?"
"No. I didn't know at all. But I do now. She is me. I didn't really understand that until I wrote this story."
"A most astute realization." He smiled and reached for her hand. His touch on her turned her skin to fire.
"You made me realize it, didn't you? You guided me toward this right from the start. But you didn't tell me. Why?"
"You needed to come to your own realization. My role is to guide, not to force."
"Thank you, sir. I would like to show you my gratitude."
"Yes, Tina, and you will. Let's walk off this food."
He rose and moved to her, raising her up, then letting his hand linger on the small of her back.
"Oh," she sighed.
"Is something the matter?"
"No, sir, not at all. The opposite in fact. This feels so right. Your hands on me."
"Yes. I know. It feels right to have you under my hand, Tina."
The walked out into the late spring air, and watched a fireworks display. The streets were empty all around them. He took her hand and pulled her into a dark alley.
"Kneel, Tina. I need your mouth around my cock." He spread his coat on the sidewalk.
Bettina paused. 'What if someone sees?' she thought. She looked into his eyes, dark with desire. She wanted to please him, but she was torn. Her body ached to obey, yet she worried about being caught.
"I won't let anything happen to you." He stroked her hair, running his fingers along her back. Then he touched her collar again. "You're mine." His voice was commanding and certain. The sensation of his hands at her neck drove away the uncertainty that she had. Yes, she was his, his slave. At that moment she knew she'd do anything for him, anything to please him.
"Show me, Tina. Prove you're mine." His fingers traced her collar, then glided underneath her dress, finding her nipples, stroking them stiff.
Her body hummed. Her nipples felt singed by his touch, his ownership of her.
"Yes, sir," Tina said, her voice taking on a raspy, parched tone, like she'd never been quenched, as she moved to the ground. Her master held her head firmly as she unzipped him, and he placed his fingers on the back of her neck, caressing her collar.
She took out his cock, hard and uncut. Wrapping her hands around his shaft, she uncovered the foreskin. Tina breathed hotly against him and took the head in her mouth, opening wide to accommodate its thick girth. She'd done this before, but never really enjoyed it. Now she needed it. Needed to swallow him. He stayed still while she licked around his cock and encircled his shaft with firm fingers.
"Yes, girl. Take it," he said as he grabbed the back of her head and forced her forwards so that his cock pressed deeply down her throat.
"Now look up at me."
She looked up then, lapping at his cock with her tongue. She felt the head of his cock pulsing as it moved in and out of her mouth.
"Lick the rim," he said.
She circled the edge of the head with her tongue, feeling his balls tighten against her chin.
"Now take my cum. Drink it."
Short bursts of salty cum spurted out of the slit of his cockhead and down Bettina's throat. She drank it all down. Her master's cum filled her, quenched her. Her cunt tingled and her breasts heaved as he kept coming.
Afterward he lifted her up from her knees, held her tightly to him, raising her dress.
"You're soaking, Tina. You want this. You want me to use you, don't you?"
"Yes sir. Yes please."
Her legs trembled as he pressed his fingers inside her cunt. "Lean against me then. I want to feel your juices flow for me."
She humped her cunt onto his hot, cupped hand. He braced her against him, wrapping his arms around her back and pulled her toward him. His fingers were warm inside her.
"Open for me now. Take me in."
She took a sharp breath and allowed herself to let go. She wanted his cock, needed it so bad, found herself begging to be taken.
"Please, your cock. I want it."
She felt the sting of his other hand against her buttocks. "I'll give you my cock when you've come for me. Move."
Her breath ragged, she stopped thinking and let herself be mastered. She'd never done this outside before. Never trusted anyone else to do this to her. She spread herself wider and clenched, letting his hand move deeper into her soaking cunt. She moved her hips back and forth against his fingers. Her master's fingers. So deep, so strong. She felt the pulsing of her orgasm start to churn against her clit and inside her cunt as he curled his fingers upward, beckoning her to come.
She was a flame shivering in the darkness against him. Burning them both with need as she clutched at his fingers with her cunt.
He brought her chin up with his other hand and forced his tongue deeply into her mouth, licking at her tongue, sucking it, biting her lips as she trembled and humped quicker against his hand.
"Ask my permission," he whispered. "Ask me to let you come."
Those words put her over the edge.
"Please, I need...may...may I come?"
"Yes! Come for me, my Tina. Come. Now."
She let go then. Came for him. Juices flowed all over his hand. The musky scent of their sex combined with the odor of smoke in the air.
He brought his fingers up to her lips."Open your mouth."
She had never tasted herself before. Had always been disgusted by the idea, but for him, she opened. She trusted him.
The sharp, sweet taste of herself filled her mouth. She cried out as she licked every drop of evidence of her surrender from his hand. Her tongue tasted each fingertip, slid down in between each finger, traced the lines in his palm. He rubbed his hand over her face, down inside her dress, reaching in to twist her nipples. They were hard and ready for his touch.
"I always want these nipples hard and your cunt wet. Do you understand, Tina?"
"Yes, sir."
"When you come to me or I come to you, you will always be ready to serve me."
Bettina looked into his eyes. She had no doubts, no uncertainty. This was what she wanted, this was who she was.
"Open, for me, Tina. Belong to me. I promise you fire." He kissed her then, a long kiss that burned against her lips. She opened her mouth and accepted his tongue and his promise as he mastered her. Completely.
Originally published December 2005 - "Naughty or Nice"