A scene opens...
It feels like a time for new beginnings and opportunities. My next release is in final editing, my current tale is in full-flow and Brandon is busy, but happy!
With this in mind, I recently penned an opening scene between two characters in a M/f dynamic. Your thoughts anyone..?
Enjoy Hump day,
Felicity Brandon
Fx
It's dark and the air feels cool around my naked skin. There is a draft from some unseen place. I feel it whipping around my breasts, teasing my nipples. From across the room I see the flicker of a red candle. Only four candles light the room – two at either end of the large space. I am here, as you have requested, kneeling on the claret rug; the long, soft pile tickling the sensitive underside of me. My expectant pussy throbs quietly beneath me. I have been forbidden to touch myself at all this week and frankly, the strain is starting to show. Unable to relax or think with clarity, I have become an agitated mess... I sit back on my heels, palms on my knees, my head bowed and wait.
I know waiting is all part of the game. The anticipation of you is almost as powerful as the emotions you evoke in the flesh. My chest rises and falls in an exaggerated way as I try to calm my ragged breathing without success. A wave of excited arousal falls over me and suddenly I can barely keep still. My bottom rises from my heels and I have to force it back down. What if you arrive and I am not perfectly in position? The horror of that eventuality fills me for a long moment. I try again to remain passive and still, and yet the more I try the less control I seem to have over my own body.
I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, and deliberately slow my breathing. 'Come on Marcy, hold it together...' I think to myself. I open my eyes again and stare into the dim candle light. From this angle I can't make out much of the room. I can just about see the edges of the heavy tapestries which hang from the wall in front of me, grazing the light marble floor in front of me. The smell of brandy and cigars encircle me. In my mind I imagine the stale odours creeping up on my nude body, like silent predators in the darkness. I wonder who this room belongs to... Is it yours? You have so many fine properties and yet I have never been here before. The thought is a little disconcerting and fuels the anxiety still burning inside me. Finally after some time and effort, my desperation disperses and some level of calm returns... that is until I hear the click of the door lock behind me.
Tension floods my limbs again immediately, like some type of reflex. Now my breathing is shallow and the sound of it appears to fill the room. I hear the door close and then the sound of your tread on the marble floor. Now I can barely breathe.
You're here! The heady mixture of wonder and fear is almost overwhelming. I hear you cross the floor behind me. The sound of your footfall changes as you too reach the rug and then I know you're right behind me. I think I hold my breath...
“You're here Marcy.”
Your voice sounds loaded with desire, and yet full of your usual calm authority.
“Yes sir,” I just about manage.
The tension in me has risen to my voice and it feels suddenly hard to speak. I wish inwardly that you would just gag me and take away the choice. And yet I know that this is not my choice to make...
“I'm glad...” you say, smoothing my hair behind me gently. Just this small gesture sends waves of electricity through me. “Do you know what I have in store for you tonight?”
“No sir,” I whisper.
“And yet you're ready to submit, Marcy? Ready to be my obedient slut once again? Ready to be used in any way I choose to use you?”
Silently I digest your words. Thrills of excitement coarse through me, heading south to my aching wet slit. I know I will do anything – anything you say. Taking a deep breath, I try to steady my nerves.
“Yes sir,” I say, my voice still barely audible above my own breathing. “I am yours...”
Copyright, Felicity Brandon, 2013.
With this in mind, I recently penned an opening scene between two characters in a M/f dynamic. Your thoughts anyone..?
Enjoy Hump day,
Felicity Brandon
Fx
It's dark and the air feels cool around my naked skin. There is a draft from some unseen place. I feel it whipping around my breasts, teasing my nipples. From across the room I see the flicker of a red candle. Only four candles light the room – two at either end of the large space. I am here, as you have requested, kneeling on the claret rug; the long, soft pile tickling the sensitive underside of me. My expectant pussy throbs quietly beneath me. I have been forbidden to touch myself at all this week and frankly, the strain is starting to show. Unable to relax or think with clarity, I have become an agitated mess... I sit back on my heels, palms on my knees, my head bowed and wait.
I know waiting is all part of the game. The anticipation of you is almost as powerful as the emotions you evoke in the flesh. My chest rises and falls in an exaggerated way as I try to calm my ragged breathing without success. A wave of excited arousal falls over me and suddenly I can barely keep still. My bottom rises from my heels and I have to force it back down. What if you arrive and I am not perfectly in position? The horror of that eventuality fills me for a long moment. I try again to remain passive and still, and yet the more I try the less control I seem to have over my own body.
I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, and deliberately slow my breathing. 'Come on Marcy, hold it together...' I think to myself. I open my eyes again and stare into the dim candle light. From this angle I can't make out much of the room. I can just about see the edges of the heavy tapestries which hang from the wall in front of me, grazing the light marble floor in front of me. The smell of brandy and cigars encircle me. In my mind I imagine the stale odours creeping up on my nude body, like silent predators in the darkness. I wonder who this room belongs to... Is it yours? You have so many fine properties and yet I have never been here before. The thought is a little disconcerting and fuels the anxiety still burning inside me. Finally after some time and effort, my desperation disperses and some level of calm returns... that is until I hear the click of the door lock behind me.
Tension floods my limbs again immediately, like some type of reflex. Now my breathing is shallow and the sound of it appears to fill the room. I hear the door close and then the sound of your tread on the marble floor. Now I can barely breathe.
You're here! The heady mixture of wonder and fear is almost overwhelming. I hear you cross the floor behind me. The sound of your footfall changes as you too reach the rug and then I know you're right behind me. I think I hold my breath...
“You're here Marcy.”
Your voice sounds loaded with desire, and yet full of your usual calm authority.
“Yes sir,” I just about manage.
The tension in me has risen to my voice and it feels suddenly hard to speak. I wish inwardly that you would just gag me and take away the choice. And yet I know that this is not my choice to make...
“I'm glad...” you say, smoothing my hair behind me gently. Just this small gesture sends waves of electricity through me. “Do you know what I have in store for you tonight?”
“No sir,” I whisper.
“And yet you're ready to submit, Marcy? Ready to be my obedient slut once again? Ready to be used in any way I choose to use you?”
Silently I digest your words. Thrills of excitement coarse through me, heading south to my aching wet slit. I know I will do anything – anything you say. Taking a deep breath, I try to steady my nerves.
“Yes sir,” I say, my voice still barely audible above my own breathing. “I am yours...”
Copyright, Felicity Brandon, 2013.
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