A sharp tug on the leash pulls me out of my head, and I get out of the car, hearing her close the door behind me.
She leads me into the woods, where leaves cover the ground in spectacular colours. I see fairy lights in the trees. My nipples harden, the tiny leather harness hardly covering any bit of skin. I am grateful for the gentle autumn weather. Oh, the smile on her lips as she held up the harness and told me, "Some forms of magic, Jessi, work better with less clothes on."
Her cryptic words kept me pondering the whole car ride, made me feel tingly with nervous energy. As she strolls ahead of me, in her thigh high boots, I can almost feel the air crackle with energy, as well.
The peaceful, rippling movements of the leaves swaying with every gust of wind, the flames of the candles dancing. Up ahead is a clearing, and I follow her. Magic, she said. It certainly feels mystical, this place, the full moon in the sky, on All Hallows' Eve. But who believes in magic?
Miss Gemma stops at the end of the path, under a stone arch. In the cleaning, a circle is drawn on the forest floor. Candles and skulls surround it, a machine stands in the middle. I spot a brown leather bag, and slip my hand into hers, squeezing it slightly, thanking her wordlessly for the effort she made.
She looks at me and smiles, stepping behind me, her hands on my shoulders.
"Sex magic," she whispers in my ear as she leads me into the center of the circle, "is an ancient form of magic."
She points to the machine, and I kneel. Her smile and nod show her approval. "Sexual energy one of the most potent forces. Used right, it can affect the tide of life, the energy of the universe. Sway it gently in our favour, my dear."
I listen to her attentively, trying not to think about the machine I'm kneeling on. The dildo attached to it, it is like I can almost feel it brushing against my back. The rustling of the leaves gives the impression of people, people moving around us in a circle, just behind the trees.
"Your energy will flow tonight, Jessi. Our energy will flow. Did you not tell me once you believe in the extraordinary?"
I nod vaguely, feeling a dull throb between my thighs.
"Turn around," she says in a quiet, clear voice.
Shifting on my knees, on the leather pillow of the machine, I turn till I am face to face with the fake cock. My tongue darts out to lick my lips involuntarily, I blush.
"Wet it."
With a soft groan, I wrap my lips around it. It is different, different from a warm, real erection. I feel a slight resistance as I start to take it into my mouth, knowing no one will get pleasure from this.
Miss Gemma walks around me, attaching chains to my cuffs, chaining me to the machine. Her feather light touches on my wrists, my arms, my back. The jingle of the chains lulling me into a rhythm. The dildo suddenly feels alive, and I feel sensual, sexual, letting it slip from my mouth and licking the length for my own pleasure, not someone else’s.
"Good girl, Jessi," Miss Gemma whispers, "Feel it flow, feel it fill up your body - your deepest desires, your wet hot need."
I close my eyes for a moment, groaning, feeling every muscle of my body tensing, leaning into the rhythm of Miss' voice.
When I open my eyes again, I see the circle on the ground glowing faintly.
Lightheaded and sure I must be confused, I feel the chains being undone and Miss tugging my collar, urging me to turn around. Dazed, I kneel down, my bum towards the slick dildo. I feel warmth next to me, and Miss rests her head on my back, one hand on my thigh and the other holding my hand.
"Take your pleasure, Jessi, slowly now," she murmurs as she very slowly guides me backward. The cool tip of the rubber cock flicks against my clit, caresses my swollen lips, and I feel how wet I have become.
"Good girl, just a little more, now, come, Jessi," Miss croons, and I push myself back over the dildo. The intensity of being stretched inside makes me shake, makes me shudder with need, and I try and push back more, but her hand on my thigh stops me, forces me to take every inch of it slowly and steadily.
She kisses my back, her warm lips leave butterfly kisses along the leather straps.
Then, her body held closely against mine, cheek pressed to my back, Miss Gemma rocks back and forth, rocking me with her. And as her hypnotic whispering lulls me into a pliable, obedient mindset, the dildo inside me awakens every nerve ending, touches every sensitive spot, makes me feel like I am nothing more than a body. The circle glows my brightly, still, and I allow myself to float off.
"Keep going, Jessi, keep going," Miss purrs in my ear, I feel her stepping away. Nodding blissfully, I keep rock and sway, push back my hips lazily. I hear her rummaging in the leather bag, and when I open my eyes, Miss Gemma is in front of me, sporting a beautiful black strap-on. She kneels before me, her hands in my hair, and she eases my lips over it.
My mind cries at the feeling of fullness, of fulfillment, as she very slowly fucks my mouth. Through my haze, I feel the tension building in my belly. Everything is so intense, now - the leather straps tight around my body, the leather covering under my knees and hands. The warm, smooth dildo filling me up, Miss' strap-on, still cold, in my willing mouth. All I am now is sex, a collection of needs and wants, with quivering muscles and no thoughts besides the explosion about to happen. The magic circle lights up, the brightness hurting my eyes, and I push myself back with longer, deeper strokes, agonizingly slow.
"Feel it, Jessi, feel the need deep inside you. Don't fight it, you're allowed, feel and let it fill you."
Miss Gemma repeats those words, over and over, like a mantra, a permission.
With a long, deep, primal growl, I cum, shivering and shaking, never breaking the rhythm. Her hands in my hair keep me going, as more and more waves wash over me, washing away all shame, all that's left of decorum and civilization.
Far, far away, I feel the pull of the chains fall away. Miss Gemma pulls me against her, my head in her lap, cradling and caressing me as I slowly come back to myself.
She smiles down at me, telling me I have been perfect, just perfect. A warm feeling, different from the lust and sexual energy, settles in my belly. Pride, and love, and a willingness, a need even, to please.
I drift in and out of my woolly, spacey place, and don't even see the circle burns brighter than before.
All is complete, now.
WS Furniture used:
::WS:: Training Machine
Styling, photography and erotica: Voice Restless
Models: AnneMarie Somersley & ForeignThoughts Resident
