Yours

My dearest Sir,

You are always there. In my dreams I mean. Not a night goes by without you, your touch, your presence, your scent, your taste. In the daylight I am who you always said I was; strong, independent, willful, in charge of myself, and those around me. But the moment the door closes behind me, the outside world can no longer look in, and I am yours. Your love, your kitten, your lady, your slut. I am nothing more, but definitely nothing less. You made me be so much more than I was, and being apart is going to be the end of me.

You were there again last night. I dreamt that I opened the front door and you were there. Arms open, smiling. Without thought as to who might see I dropped to my knees; head up, eyes down, knees apart. The only word spoken “Sir”. Though I could not see it your smile grew. You stepped inside, crouched down, your fingertips trailed softly down my cheek, across my lips, a light pressure and my mouth was open, your finger inside. A small taste, just the beginning I hoped. I sucked gently on your digit, imagining that it was something more. In my distraction I did not see the look on your face. But I heard you growl. My eyes shot up, locked on yours, and were trapped. The pure lust radiating from your eyes froze me. My mouth, my tongue still playing with your finger as if I could not bear to stop.

I remember the effect it had on you when you were here, Sir. In my dream it was no different. You did not, would not, remove your hand. Your free hand reached out to my hair and, grasping it firmly, pulled me to my feet. I don’t recall closing the door, or seeing you do so but we must have because the next moment my legs were wrapped around your waist, my skirt over my hips, my back against the door, and your cock deep inside of me. I could feel your hand between our bodies as you tore open my blouse, my bra shoved out of the way as you leaned back to look at me. You saw my new tattoo, and drove deeper into me still. I could not speak, could barely breathe, capable only of soft moans, as you growled against my neck. With every thrust my mouth played accompaniment moaning softly around your finger, writhing against you.

That I had been about to leave, that I would be late for work, forgotten. That a world existed outside the door you were fucking me against, forgotten. All that existed, all that mattered was your body and mine, together. I felt your mouth on my neck, biting, sucking, licking, driving me further into madness. You began to move faster, thrust harder, and I could not contain my gasp. Your finger released you removed it from my mouth, a quiet whimper of need escaping me. The door was gone; we were no longer standing against it. My back was on the stairs, with a growl you put my hands on the railings, I held tight as your hands grabbed my hips, the pressure inside of me building to nearly unbearable levels. I wanted to cum, I needed to. But I fought against it. You had yet to give me permission and I would not disappoint my Sir. You felt my shiver as I fought it. I felt your smile against my breast. You began to suckle, and bite my nipple. You slowed down your thrusts and with every thrust you sucked, hard. With every withdraw you bit. One hand released my hip and reached between us. You nearly broke my control as your fingers played with my clit, rubbing it in time each time you rammed into me. Your mouth left my breast and returned to my neck, your fingers moving faster, your hips slamming into mine. I could feel how hard you were, how close to cumming, but still I fought it.

Finally, against my neck, at the pulse point, you spoke. “Who am I?”

“Sir.” Was my response. I felt the smile.

“Who do you belong to?” Again tightly to my neck, more growl than words.

“Only you Sir.” It was so hard to speak but I somehow managed to gasp out the words.

“Cum.” A low growl, tight into my throat, a hard bite immediately after. Enough of a shock to release my control. I felt my pussy contract around you, with the first grasp I felt you explode inside of me, your cock throbbing, pulsing inside of me.

I woke, so close to cumming it was painful. But I remembered your orders Sir. No cumming without you, no cumming until we are together again. I followed orders, I have since you’ve been gone. I am a good girl, Sir. Your good girl.

The dreams are every night. I spend the days fidgety, and tense. I know you can’t answer my question, but I do wish I knew when we’ll be together again. Our friends, the ones that know how we live, tell me that you never meant for me to wait this long. They tell me you would still see me as your good girl even if I permitted myself some release once in a while. They remind me you were only going to be gone a week, two tops. It was never meant to be so long. We’ve never been apart this long Sir. I looked at the calendar and it’s been nearly a year. A year tomorrow to be exact. They still haven’t found your boat.

I bought a small boat yesterday. If they can’t find you maybe I can. We’ll be together soon, Sir. I promise.

With all my love,

My heart, and soul,

Yours

Siara Tyr

Ghosts

When the lights go out, and the darkness reigns. I can feel you.

Your touch, your breath hot against my neck,

your cock pressing hard against my ass…

 

Then morning.

I hear you in the kitchen, until I round the corner.

I hear you run the shower but the tub is dry.

The sounds of you are everywhere

and you’re nowhere to be found.

 

Evening comes, and I get home from work.

I walk through the door and smell dinner on the go,

I put the takeout on the table.

I watch a movie and the scent of popcorn lingers in the air

I haven’t had popcorn since…

I head to my bed, our bed, and your cologne swirls around me,

taunting me, teasing me, killing me.

 

Time to turn out the lights.

I miss you.

Miss you

Siara Tyr

the_twisted_path_group_matt_horwich

The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Currently in Production

 Matt Farnsworth Films    Madness is in the Eye of the Beholder

In the Snow

Staring out my slightly open window, watching the snow fall gently to the ground. The world sleeps, rests, renews while the stars twinkle brightly, the moon high above me, the hour late. Christmas is only a couple more sleeps away, and I already begin to feel the excitement.

I will try to sleep again this year but already I know the cause is lost and that I might as well find another way to occupy my time. Every year, every Christmas, it’s always the same. As a child my patience was necessary, I would wake earlier than everyone else in the house, probably earlier than anyone else in town if I am honest. I would allow my sister to sleep for at least an hour, sometimes I would be kind and leave her until 6. Then Dad around 6:30 or 7, but Mom was always to be left until at least 7:30 and no presents were to be opened until after breakfast. And no, the orange in our stockings was not breakfast. I know, I asked.

As I grew I was still up at the same time, 4am comes early but sleeping later than that was impossible. After I moved away I found myself rattling around all night, disturbing my roommates. So I began my yearly routine. I would wait for the house to fall asleep and then go out for a walk or a drive. Of course I hadn’t planned anything more; I was merely trying to occupy myself. Then HE happened.

I drove to the park. You know the one? Down at the end of Main Street. Of course you do. I sat on the swings, under the gently falling snow. The night was much like tonight, perhaps that’s why the memory is so strong. The swing slowly moved, my feet touching the ground just barely, my breath steaming, drifting into the night sky. The night was quiet, peaceful. Until “Would you like a push?” I don’t believe I screamed but if I didn’t it was a near miss. This is going to make me sound a little crazy, I’m well aware of it but although he was standing there behind me, he wasn’t really there. I mean he was, I could see him, I could hear him, but I absolutely could not touch him. My hand passed right through him.

It didn’t stop him from giving me a push on the swing though. Somehow he was able to affect it, and me. I spent the night swinging back and forth, chatting with…. a ghost I suppose. As dawn began, as the sun began to send its rays across the snow causing the world to glitter, he asked me if I would come back. He’d been alone for so long, he was so lonely, I couldn’t say no. But the only time he’s around is Christmas, or at least it’s the only time he can interact with the rest of us, with the living I suppose.

I’ve gone back for the last five years, every Christmas Eve. I sit on the same swing and wait for the sun to set. I’ve got my own place since then, no more roommates to disturb but now I couldn’t stay home even if I wanted to. He needs me after all, he has no one else.

It’s Christmas Eve. It’s cold out tonight. As time’s gone by he’s been gaining substance. Last year I was finally able to hug him, even kiss him. He was cold, and after a short period of time my hands slipped through him again but I did touch him. Is it possible to fall in love with a ghost? How am I able to touch him now? I’ve been trying to figure it out for the last year but it’s not exactly something you can find in the library or online. Of course there are theories. None of them seem feasible though. I’m hoping desperately that it’s the same tonight. I’ve been dreaming about touching him for 365 nights, and tonight I’ll find out.

“Would you like a push?” He’s here! I get off the swing and I’m in his arms. He’s solid! How is this even possible? “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Only a year love, not long at all.” I smile at him, and then he’s kissing me. I’m on fire, every cell in my body yearning for him. How can he do this? No more thinking, just feeling.

*************************************************************************************

This was by far the easiest transition yet. Foolish woman. She let me in, more and more each year. I need to learn about this “internet”. It wasn’t around last time.

As he walks away the swing slowly stops moving. The woman’s hands frozen to the metal chains, her cheeks slowly losing their vibrant pink, her last breath drifting to the sky.

Silver Tongued Duchess

the_twisted_path_group_matt_horwich

The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production

 Matt Farnsworth Films    Madness is in the Eye of the Beholder