Sodom: What’s in a Name?

Posted on | July 5, 2012 | 5 Comments |

Would Sodom have the same air of mystery if it was called ‘The Club of Arse’? ‘Stick ‘em Up’? ‘The Booty Bumper’? What something is named can make a difference – something that the Doyenne, and some of the staff, know very well indeed.

**

 

Tina and Jake walked side by side as they headed for the private staff areas, knowing they had thirty minutes to work off some steam. This was a regular assignation – while often ‘stretching their legs’ was just that, a chance to for Tina for walk out the kinks from sitting in the atrium all evening, about one time in four things went very differently indeed.  Jake still didn’t know what Tina’s response to his offer was – as least not verbally. She hadn’t said a word when she reached the bar, just waited for him key his earpiece and let Theodore know he was taking his break.  But non-verbally? The sway of her ponytail as she walked, the hint of smile about her face, the determined lack of looking at him – they all suggested that she was going to take him up on his offer.

Sometimes they just walked. Walked through the staff kitchen, playroom, lounge, dungeon, showers. Sometimes they stopped in one of those spaces and Jake sat while T stretched. But this time she surprised him with something unexpected – she took his hand.

Still without a word, she led the way, walking with a purpose.  And didn’t stop until they reached the staff dungeon. It was empty of people, of course. Everyone else was working. But all the equipment gleamed. It was beautifully cared for – it was used often. Jake looked around, still wondering what Tina had in mind.

It didn’t come clear until they reached the queening stool.

**

It was made of dark wood, beautifully crafted, smoothed from the use of many arses over the years. Jake knew it was a vintage piece that the Doyenne had brought to Sodom, although he didn’t know how old it was. He’d spent considerable time over the years keeping it varnished and smooth.

He spent a moment considering it; considering where he was, and what was likely to happen now.

Tine turned to him, letting go of his hand. “You wanted to stretch that tongue of yours?”

Jake grinned. “Oh, hell, yes!”

**

Picture this: a tawny-skinned woman, her black hair still tied in its ponytail. Ivory sleeveless top flowing loose, S-shaped armband catching the light. Her practical shoes and comfortable black trousers discarded on the floor, unneeded. She’s relaxing on the queening stool.  But she’s not sitting up on it – she’s leaning back instead, resting her upper shoulders against the wall, stretching her legs out wide and far, and resting the upper portion of her arse on the stool.

Picture this also. Lying between her legs, his head by her ankles, is a man. He’s completely unclothed – his are all flung next to hers.  It’s a lovely sight.

She says something, almost lazily. But the room is completely quiet, in sharp contract to the public spaces of Sodom.

“Do you want this?”

“Oh, yes, yes I want this. I want your arse. I want to taste you.”

She smiles, and stretches her left leg out. “Why should I let you?”

“Because I will make you feel really good, I promise!”

She turns her foot inward, pressing it into his shoulder. “Do you promise?”

“Yes, oh yes I promise.”

She moves her other leg, digging her toes in to his ribs.  “What’s my name?”

“Klementina.”

She kicks him, gently. “Try again. What’s my name?”

He pauses. “Tina?”

Another kick, on the other side. Says it again, slowly. “What’s my name?”

“…T?”

This  time she slams both feet into him. “What’s my name?”

It takes a minute for him to catch his breath. But he gets the answer. “Mistress. My mistress.”

“That’s right. Your mistress. And now who you’re here with, you are allowed to make me feel good.”

She lifts herself, and given permission, he moves his head so it rests in the base of the stool, beneath her bottom. She sits again, and he is covered, smothered, in her musky arse. His tongue darts out, licks and loves and laves and adores. His nose sucks up the scent of her. He is breathing her in, and smothering in it, gloriously.

She lifts just enough for him to take a gulp of air and he hears: “Say it again.”

“Mistress,” he gasps, as she comes down and brings a world of dark delight with her.

He licks his way to bliss.

**

Previous chapter: Midnight

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Comments

5 Responses to “Sodom: What’s in a Name?”

  1. Carol Anne Caiafa
    July 7th, 2012 @ 8:33 am

    This is beautifully written, as always – but I still wish that there were ladies at Sodom who rolled for my team.

  2. Kiwiana
    July 8th, 2012 @ 1:35 pm

    Tasty and hot!
    x K

  3. Dee
    July 12th, 2012 @ 7:37 am

    Don’t you worry Carol – there are people of all sexualities (and genders, too) and Sodom! You’ll get to know more about them as the story continues.

    Kiwiana, I’m delighted you’re still enjoying. *kisses*

    xx Dee

  4. Femsup
    July 14th, 2012 @ 8:50 am

    Insanely hot.I like that the furniture is so worn from contiued usage and that there are these facilities as normal as a mess room is today.The writing too is sparse but fulfilling.

  5. Dee
    July 15th, 2012 @ 11:02 pm

    Thank you Femsup! Insanely hot is a response I like :)

    I keep the writing simple – I try to leave plenty to the imagination …

    xx Dee


  

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