lucy

I still don't have internet, my lovelies, and I miss you crazy kids like you wouldn't imagine.

Life's been crazy like a fox, prickled like a plucked goose, wild, wet, hot, wonderful.

Because I love you...

Part Two
My cock went rigid as I watched the pained look on Sparky's face. I knew from the goose pimples that stood erect on Sparky's body, each hair giving me a salute, that I'd picked the perfect torture again. We'd been at play for months now, Sparky and I. Enough time to know which words brought the blood flush to Sparky's face. Months. Time enough to know how a simple twisted smile and the promise of the sharp sing of pain would attack the body like a sickness, raising body tempurature and engorging flesh. The response always thrills me. I could see myself falling in love with this one, again.

Dangerous, that.

I dismissed the idea quickly and shut the door. I had other matters to attend to. I plodded my way up the stairs to the main room, where my client was waiting impatiently. Taking on a new client is never easy. Initial client relationships irritate me, make me nervous. False smiles, false manners, one big show of smoke and mirrors. Ignore the tension breaking waves beneath the surface.
False posturing, breathe deep, beat around the bush a little before flushing out the frightened rabbit underneath.
Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.
A delicate dance before cutting to the chase.

I bored my chamelon eyes straight into the client's. I saw the sweat beading the brow as they met my eyes briefly, then quickly broke contact and stared at the floor. Nervous. This must be their first time. I took their clammy hand and shook it, surprised by the firmness behind it. Not completely submissive, I see...this one has moxy. I find that an extremely admirable trait in another human being. I never tell this to most of my peers, but it's really a drag when they come to you already broken. I prefer the more spirited foals for the training. Blonde hair, blue eyes, skin so translucent I see the blue of the veins like tattoos though the skin. A delicate beauty. It helps, when they're pretty. It's much easier to be brutal. Beauty brings out my beast.

After exchanging the usual empty pleasantries, I handed them a questionnaire. "fill this out", I said. This is the important part of the meeting. I carefully study their face as they go through the questions. I've made them pretty invasive. The questionnaire's main function is to learn my client's buttons, which ones I can push to the limits and which are broken beyond repair, but the truth of the matter is, I love staring a person down as they give me answers to questions a therapist would never dare to ask.
Watching them squirm, it does things to me that not even a good cocksucking can do.

This one, unfortunately, had learned the value of a pokerface. I got little satisfaction as I stared at the nearly expressionless face of the client, filling out the graphic questionnare of their previous sexual habits and psychiatric anomolies as impassively as if they were filling out a bank form. How very boring. They'd gotten comfortable...an unfortunate turn of events which I planned to remedy with the first lick of the lash.

We made an appoinment for next Wednesday at six, and I bid them adieu.

I'd left Sparky down there long enough. I made my way to the broom closet and I heard Sparky crying softly.

I told Sparky not to make a sound.

The familiar blood rush thickened my penis.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

To be continued...

xoxo
love lucy