Stuffies

A blog about food and sex.

Marked

I figure it’s only a matter of time before I’m “outed” as a sex blogger. Not because I have stalkers or an angry ex (not yet, anyway.) It’s because I can’t lie.

Or rather, I don’t do it well. 

Where I’m living now is a much better place than I used to be. I used to have a sullen, odd housemate and a landlord that thought seeing my copy of Philosophy in the Bedroom was an invitation to try and make out with me (I was not amused.) Now I have a cute, friendly housemate named Miranda who asks me about my day and never nags me about leaving dishes in the sink. Whereas I didn’t feel comfortable bringing friends over at the old place, let alone lovers, here I feel comfortable gossiping with her about boyfriend troubles and sharing potato chips. It’s nice to have a girlfriend again…and thus, I thought nothing of mentioning to her that I was going to have to get ready to go out with some friends one night. 

However, it became clear after twenty minutes of me rushing around putting on makeup and trying on outfits that whoever I was meeting was more than a “friend”. (I’d been told to “dress to impress”, and the effort of pulling something worthy out of my mostly casual wardrobe was stressing me out.) 

“Is it a boy?” she teased. 

I was silent.

“Oh, it is!” she said triumphantly. 

“It’s a girl…” I said, and made a decision, “and a boy.”

“Oh, wow.” Miranda was impressed. I had guessed correctly, in that she was very accepting of the idea. “But when they come, can you let them talk in the living room for a minute? So I can see them?”

“Sure,” I laughed. We sat on her bed and watched Sex and the City until Halo and Inigo arrived. 

When the knock on the door came, however, only Halo was on the stoop. I led her in while Miranda pretended to be washing dishes in the kitchen. He hasn’t come, I thought, disappointed.

But Halo explained that Inigo would be back in a little while to pick us both up—they were dropping off a friend who happened to be living in the same area. This was fine with me, except for the awkwardness of not knowing what to do to entertain her until Inigo arrived. ”Wanna see my room?” I asked, feeling a bit like I was in grade school again.

My bedroom was still piled with boxes from my recent move, and I stood awkwardly in the middle of it, distracted by Halo’s red coat and the corset I knew she must be wearing underneath it. I was glad she was here, but felt like I wasn’t saying the right things, that I was missing something, until she asked if she could shut the door. Then she leaned forward to kiss me.

“Oh wait,” I said, turning my face to the side before her lips could meet mine. 

She said, “I forgot!” 

“It’s because of the… yeah,” I said. “Sorry.”

I see how someone could easily forget, she told me, playing with my hair. You’re so very kissable. 

In fact, she had asked me to make a list for this very reason, and now asked to see it. I handed her my moleskine nervously, and when she said I’d done well I was as pleased as if I’d done something far more marvelous.

For the moment, we twined our fingers together instead. I tried to tell her about what I had been doing with my life, but none of it seemed very interesting. As usual, Halo’s hands were ice cold. Mine were cold too: pre-date nerves had redirected the blood to other places.

What we’d like to do, said Halo as I ran my fingertips up and down the backs of her hands, is top you all night long. As soon as you get in the car, we’re going to be in character—that is, the ones in control. Even though I wasn’t sure what all that entailed, the prospect made me shiver with anticipation. Of course, there were also safe words, and she went over them with me: red to stop, and yellow to slow down.

This was the first time I’d be in a situation with two doms. I hadn’t even seen a picture of Inigo yet, and hadn’t requested one, wanting to prolong the anticipation. But I know the two of them have a very special relationship to each other. They’ve known each other for years—he was the first person Halo told about her kinky desires. Coupled with the fact that he, like her, is in a very difficult graduate program, and the groundwork for my horny admiration was complete: kinky and ambitious, all in one package!

“Oh,” Halo remembered, “Jefferson sent a present for you.” I was surprised Jefferson had been thinking of me. Then I learned this “present” consisted of a mark Halo was to make on my body in a place they had agreed on. 

“Well”, I said, “I’ve gotten ‘thinking of you’ cards before, but never one like that!”

Our talk turned to other things. Halo began carding her hands though my hair, and I as she did so I felt a deep relaxation move through my entire body. 

“I’m being so nice to you!” she cooed. I was to learn over the course of the next 72 houses that whenever Halo said she was being nice, it meant she was about to be mean. 

“Your hands are like…soporific…” I said, half-shutting my eyes in pleasure. 

“Well,” she said, “we can’t have you falling asleep.” She grabbed a hank of my hair and wrenched my head back. “On the bed,” she said, and I ended up on the floor on my hands and knees, palms sinking into the air mattress. 

You’re so soft, she said, running her hands over my body.

“Like a pillow…”

A little bit like a pillow… 

“A pillow that can feel pain!” I said, my mind taking me strange places in my anticipation and nervousness. 

“No, no,” she laughed, “you’re a beautiful girl! I just can’t decide what to do with you: you dressed so nice for me, so I don’t want to mess up your pretty clothes…” She pressed her cheek to my back, then inspiration struck. “I could give you Jefferson’s mark!” 

I was ordered to pull down my pants and panties, but without getting off my knees. “You have a dimple!” Halo exclaimed.

“I do.” I have a little dent right above my asshole—none of my other lovers had noticed it before. 

“Molly Ren, she’s so pretty,” Halo sang, “she has dimples on her bum!”

Which gives you a glimpse into Halo’s mind, really. One minute she’ll be singing silly songs to you, the next she’ll be giving you pain. She gleefully began sucking at a spot on my left ass cheek, which was lovely until the inevitable knife-like sharpness. She was using her teeth. I made one sound, remembered my housemate, and went silent. 

When the mark was made, Halo took out her cellphone and took a picture of it to send to Jefferson. She showed it to me afterwards: there was now a perfectly round, strawberry-colored mark on my left ass cheek. 

  1. molly-ren posted this