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Stories of Desire - Tasteful Smut Stories

🇺🇸Playwright
15
Completed
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Synopsis
Alright, so picture this: a collection of spicy stories that aren't just about the steamy stuff. We're talking smut with substance here. Each tale is like a wild ride through a bizarre adventure, where things might get a bit taboo and forbidden, but hey, that's part of the fun, right? So, grab a comfy spot and get ready for a journey where the plot is as juicy as the scenes. (M) - Male POV (F) - Female POV
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Chapter 1 - Mystery Asylum (M)

I waited until the old man was out cold. Watching his chest rise and fall, the sound of his raspy breaths filled the small, dimly lit room. A part of me felt a twinge of guilt, but only a small part. The rest of me was buzzing with excitement, the thrill of the unknown.

"Alright, Dad, let's see what you've been hiding," I muttered under my breath, slipping his ID card from the table. He always kept it close, like it was his bloody lifeline. Which made me all the more curious. What the hell did he do at that asylum?

The drive to the facility was uneventful, my mind racing with possibilities. I'd heard whispers, of course. Strange experiments, mental patients used as guinea pigs. But no one ever really knew. Well, I was about to find out.

The building loomed in front of me, a grey monolith against the night sky. Not exactly welcoming. I parked the car and approached the gate, taking a deep breath before swiping the ID card. The light blinked green. Easy enough.

Inside, the place was eerily quiet. Clinical. I walked down the stark white corridor, each step echoing off the walls. My heart pounded in my chest. This was the real deal. No turning back now.

I reached a door marked "Restricted Access" and swiped the card again. The door clicked open. I pushed it, stepping into a darkened room lit only by the glow of computer screens.

"Jesus Christ," I whispered, looking around. Monitors displayed various rooms, all filled with patients. Some restrained, others wandering aimlessly. It was like something out of a horror film.

I approached one of the screens, watching a woman rocking back and forth, muttering to herself. Another showed a man banging his head against the wall, over and over again. I swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in my stomach. What the fuck was this place?

A noise behind me made me jump. I spun around to see a figure in the shadows.

"Who the fuck are you?" the voice demanded. It was a woman, her tone sharp, suspicious.

"Blake," I said, trying to sound confident. "I'm, uh, Dr. Carter's son. Just checking on things."

The woman grabbed my arm, her grip iron-clad. "You're coming with me," she hissed, dragging me towards the exit. I didn't have much of a choice, not unless I wanted to cause a scene. And scenes usually ended badly for guys like me.

She pulled me through the maze of hallways, her pace relentless. "We're heading to security," she said, not looking back. "You can explain yourself there."

"Explain what? That I wanted to know what my dad's been up to?" I snapped. "You can't blame a bloke for being curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat," she retorted.

"Well, I'm not a cat, am I?"

We reached the security room, but as she pushed the door open, I saw my chance. I yanked my arm free and bolted down the corridor. Shouts echoed behind me, but I didn't look back. My heart pounded in my ears as I rounded a corner and skidded to a halt in front of a heavy metal door. Restricted Area. Perfect.

I swiped the ID card and slipped inside, pulling the door shut behind me. The room was pitch dark, the only light coming from a small window high on the wall. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. That was close.

A faint noise made me turn. I wasn't alone. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I saw her. She sat on the floor, her back against the wall, shackled to the bed. Her hair was long and dark, cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of ink. Her skin was pale, almost luminous in the darkness, and she wore a simple white gown that clung to her curves.

But it was her eyes that caught me. They were a striking shade of blue, like ice, and they seemed to pierce right through me. There was a fierce intelligence there, a kind of raw power that made my blood run cold.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She didn't answer immediately, just watched me with those unsettling eyes. Finally, she spoke, her voice smooth and controlled. "Blake Carter, right?"

"How do you know my name?"

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I know a lot of things. More than you, apparently."

"Alright, Miss Mysterious, what's your deal? Why are you locked up in here?"

Her expression hardened. "That's a long story, and we don't have much time. They'll be looking for you."

"Fair point. But if I'm going to help you, I need to know what the hell's going on."

She tilted her head, considering me. "Help me? What makes you think I need your help?"

"Call it a hunch," I said, shrugging. "Look, I didn't come here to play hero. I just want answers. And you seem like someone who has them."

Her eyes flickered with something like amusement. "Alright, Blake. You want answers? Then get me out of here. Prove you're more than just a curious kid in over his head."

I took a step closer, my mind racing. This was madness. But then again, madness seemed to be my specialty. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the key card. "Alright, let's get you out of these chains first."

As I worked on the locks, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was in way over my head. But there was no turning back now. Not with her eyes watching my every move, calculating, waiting.

I fumbled with the locks, my fingers shaking slightly. She watched me with that unblinking gaze, making my skin tingle. There was something magnetic about her, something that pulled me in despite every warning bell in my head going off.

As the last shackle fell away, she stretched, rolling her shoulders. "Thanks," she said, her voice low and sultry.

"No problem," I muttered, trying not to stare too obviously at the way her gown clung to her body. The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual. "So, you got a name, or should I just keep calling you Miss Mysterious?"

She smirked. "It's Ivy."

"Ivy," I repeated, liking the way it felt on my tongue. "You know, Ivy, there's something about you..."

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall. "Oh? And what's that, Blake?"

I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "I don't know. You're just... different. Exciting."

"Is that right?" Her eyes glinted with amusement. "Go on."

I swallowed hard, my bravado slipping a bit. "Look, I know this might sound forward, but... I mean, we're alone here, and there's something between us, isn't there?"

Her expression turned cold, her eyes narrowing. "Blake, if you want to fuck me, just say it. Don't beat around the bush."

I blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. "I... yeah, alright. I want to fuck you."

She pushed herself off the wall and took a step towards me, her movements smooth and predatory. "Good. Honesty is a rare quality."

I felt a rush of heat as she closed the distance between us, her breath warm against my skin. "But here's the thing," she whispered, her lips brushing my ear. "I'm not some prize to be won. If you want me, you have to prove you're worth my time."

I shivered, a mix of fear and desire coursing through me. "How do I do that?"

She pulled back, her eyes boring into mine. "Get me out of here first. Then we'll see."

She pulled back, her eyes boring into mine. "Get me out of here first. Then we'll see."

As we moved down the darkened hallway, I felt Ivy's presence like a shadow beside me. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to face me, her eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity. Before I could react, her fist connected with my jaw, sending me staggering back against the wall.

"What the fuck, Ivy?" I spat, rubbing my jaw, the metallic taste of blood seeping into my mouth.

She stepped closer, her eyes dark and intense. "Hit me back."

"What?" I blinked, trying to make sense of her demand.

She grabbed my collar, yanking me closer. "You heard me. Hit me back. I get turned on by it. Show me you've got some fight in you."

I stared at her, my mind racing. This was madness, but something in her eyes told me she was dead serious. Slowly, I balled my fist, feeling a surge of adrenaline. "You sure about this?"

"Just do it, Blake," she growled, her lips curling into a challenging smile. "Turn me on enough, and I'll let you have me."

There was no hesitation after that. I swung my fist, connecting with her cheek. She staggered but didn't fall. Instead, she laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "Not bad," she said, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.

"More," she demanded, her voice husky. "Don't hold back."

I hit her again, harder this time, and she gasped, a mix of pain and pleasure in her eyes. She retaliated, her fists flying, each blow a strange mix of violence and seduction. The fight was brutal, raw, and yet, charged with an undeniable sexual tension.

Ivy's breathing grew heavier, her eyes wild with desire. "That's it," she whispered, licking her lips. "Now you're getting it."

The next punch I threw sent her stumbling back against the wall. She looked at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly, a fierce hunger in her gaze. "Come here," she commanded, her voice a seductive purr.

I stepped closer, my body thrumming with energy. Ivy grabbed my shirt, pulling me into a searing kiss, her lips demanding and urgent. She bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood, and I groaned, the pain mingling with the overwhelming desire that consumed me.

"Prove you can handle me," she whispered against my lips, her hands roaming over my body. "Show me you're not just talk."

I pressed her against the wall, my hands tangling in her hair as I kissed her deeply. The taste of blood and the raw intensity of our clash only fueled the fire between us. Ivy responded eagerly, her nails digging into my back, urging me on.

I pulled back and slapped her across the face, hard enough to leave a mark. Her eyes blazed with a mixture of pain and lust, and she let out a low moan. "Yes, Blake. Just like that."

I grabbed her by the hair, forcing her head back to expose her neck. I bit down, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave a mark. She gasped, her nails digging into my arms.

"You like that, don't you?" I growled, my voice thick with desire.

"Fuck yes," she moaned. "Don't stop."

I slammed her against the wall again, our bodies pressing together, and I kissed her, hard and bruising. She kissed me back with equal ferocity, her tongue battling mine. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of us, locked in this violent, passionate dance.

"More," she gasped, her eyes blazing. "Show me what you've got, Blake."

I slammed Ivy against the wall, the impact echoing through the dimly lit corridor. Her eyes flashed with a mixture of excitement and defiance. Without thinking, I drove my fist into her stomach, feeling the satisfying thud as she doubled over, gasping for breath. I hit her again, harder this time, and she spat blood, a crimson trail trickling from her lips.

She leaned back against the wall, smiling through the pain, her eyes locked onto mine. Slowly, her legs gave way, and she slid down the wall, sitting on the cold floor, still grinning. "That's more like it," she said, her voice a raspy whisper. "You're getting the hang of it."

I stood over her, my chest heaving, a cocktail of adrenaline and lust coursing through my veins. "You like that, don't you?" I asked, my voice rough.

She wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, her smile never wavering. "More than you can imagine," she replied. "But we're not done yet."

I knelt down, grabbing her by the chin, forcing her to look at me. "You're one twisted bitch, you know that?"

She chuckled, a dark, throaty sound. "Takes one to know one, love."

I undid my belt and unzipped my jeans, the sound loud in the otherwise silent corridor. My cock ready for action "Open your mouth," I commanded, looking down at Ivy. She met my gaze with a defiant glint in her eye, a teasing smile playing on her bloodied lips.

"No," she said, her voice taunting. "Make me."

The challenge in her tone sent a surge of adrenaline through me. I raised my foot and kicked her in the face, pressing her head against the wall with my sole. She grunted, the impact sharp and brutal. I held her there for a moment, feeling the resistance of her body against mine, the tension thick between us.

When I finally took my foot away, her lower jaw dropped, blood and saliva dripping from her mouth. She looked up at me, a wild, almost feral expression on her face, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Despite the pain, or maybe because of it, there was a dark, twisted satisfaction in her eyes.

"That good enough for you?" I asked, my voice rough, barely above a whisper.

She tried to speak, but only a gurgle came out, a mix of blood and spit. Instead, she nodded, the defiance in her gaze now mingled with something else—something raw and primal.

"Good," I said, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back. "Now, open wide."

With a low growl, I stepped forward and positioned my erection at Ivy's bloody lips. Her eyes widened with excitement, she looked up at me with a mixture of pain and defiance, challenging me to go through with it. 

Grasping her hair firmly, I guided her head towards me, my breath heavy with anticipation. Her eyes, dark and intense, never left mine. I felt a rush of adrenaline as I pushed my cock into her mouth, feeling the heat and wetness envelop me.

Ivy didn't flinch, her eyes still locked onto mine, challenging, daring. The mix of blood and saliva made it a rough, primal experience. Her tongue worked against my cock, sending waves of pleasure and pain mingled with the metallic taste of blood.

As I pumped into Ivy's mouth, I could feel her warmth and wetness surrounding me, and it was more than I could have ever imagined. I was pushing her to her limits, but she was taking it all, and I couldn't stop now.

Her hands came up to grasp my thighs, steadying herself as she took me deeper, her gag reflex fighting but ultimately giving in. The sight of her, bruised and defiant, only fueled my desire.

I pushed further, my grip on her hair tightening, controlling her movements. She moaned around me, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation. It was raw, brutal, and electric, the line between pleasure and pain blurring with every thrust.

Ivy's eyes fluttered closed for a moment before snapping open, the fire in them undiminished. I could feel her body responding, her breath coming in ragged gasps through her nose, but she never once tried to pull away.

I pulled back slightly, letting her catch a breath before thrusting forward again, each movement deliberate and powerful. The sounds of our encounter echoed through the corridor, mingling with our heavy breathing and the distant hum of the facility's machinery.

Ivy's lips tightened around me, her mouth working with a relentless intensity. I could feel the tension building inside me, the pressure mounting with each desperate thrust.

"Ivy," I gasped, my voice strained with desire.

She looked up at me, her eyes smoldering. "You close?"

I nodded, unable to form words as pleasure consumed me.

"Then give it to me," she said, her voice a husky whisper. "Let go."

With a low growl, I thrust forward one last time, my orgasm erupting as my semen mixed with the blood dripping from Ivy's mouth. She coughed and sputtered, trying to clear her throat, but she didn't pull away. She was taking it all, and I could see the defiance in her eyes. Ivy drank me in, her tongue swirling, milking every last drop from me.

As the aftershocks subsided, I collapsed against the wall, panting heavily. Ivy wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips.

"Was it good for you?" she asked, her tone teasing.

I chuckled, still trying to catch my breath. "Yeah, Ivy. It was damn good."

Ivy's body was still humming with the aftermath of our encounter, but as I moved to take things further, she held up a hand, stopping me. "Not yet," she said, her voice low but firm.

I paused, frustration and desire warring within me. "What do you mean, not yet?" I demanded, my tone sharper than I intended.

She looked at me, her eyes dark with a mix of desire and defiance. "I mean just that, Blake. Not yet."

I gritted my teeth, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling inside me. "Fine," I muttered, reaching for my lighter. "But I'm not done with you yet."

Before she could protest, I flicked the lighter to life, the flame dancing in the dim light of the corridor. I held it close to her nipple, not enough to cause any lasting harm, but enough to make her gasp in pain.

Ivy's eyes widened as the heat washed over her, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips. "Blake," she hissed, her voice a mixture of pain and pleasure.

I watched her, my own desire burning hot and fierce. "You like that?" I asked, the flame flickering dangerously close.

She nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Yes," she whispered. "Do it again."

With a smirk, I complied, the flame dancing closer, teasing but never quite touching. Ivy's body arched towards me, a mix of pleasure and pain etched on her face.

Ivy's breath hitched as I reached for the leather belt, her eyes widening with anticipation. With a determined grip, I brought it down against her skin, the crack echoing through the dimly lit corridor.

She gasped, a mix of pain and pleasure evident in her voice. "Blake," she whispered, her body tensing under each strike.

I didn't respond, the primal urge to dominate consuming me as I continued to rain blows upon her. Each strike left angry red welts in its wake, a testament to our twisted dance of desire and control.

Ivy's voice was a breathless mix of ecstasy and agony as she gasped out, "More."

I obliged, the leather connecting with her torso, thighs, and ass, leaving a trail of marks across her skin. Her body arched under each blow, the sensation driving her to the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Harder," she urged, her voice a desperate plea.

I complied, the rhythm of our savage encounter becoming more frenzied with each passing moment. The sound of leather meeting flesh filled the air, mingling with Ivy's ragged breaths and the faint hum of the facility's machinery.

Finally, when I could take no more, I dropped the belt, my chest heaving with exertion. Ivy slumped against the wall, her body marked and bruised, a portrait of our wild, primal connection.

I reached for the belt once again. This time, I wrapped it around Ivy's neck, passing the end through the metal buckle and pulling it tight enough to choke her. Ivy's eyes widened in panic, but she didn't struggle against me.

"Blake," she gasped, her voice a breathless plea.

I ignored her, the rush of adrenaline surging through me as I held her captive with the belt. "You like that?" I growled, my voice low and rough.

As Ivy gasped for air, I could feel the adrenaline surge through me. With the belt still around her neck, I reached down and grabbed my cock, guiding it toward Ivy's warmth from behind. I held the end of the belt with one hand, my other hand gripping Ivy's hip for balance.

With a low growl, I thrust forward, sliding into Ivy's wet pussy. She cried out in pain and pleasure, her body writhing beneath mine. I could feel her struggle against me, her body shaking from the pain of the belt and the pressure of my intrusion.. 

I held onto the end of the belt, using it to control her movements as I thrust into her with a relentless intensity. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me, the power and control intoxicating. 

"Blake," she choked out, her voice strained.

I leaned in close, my lips brushing against her ear. "Shh," I whispered, the sensation sending shivers down her spine.

As I thrust into her with a relentless intensity, Ivy's moans filled the air, a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Harder," she gasped, her voice barely audible over the sound of our ragged breaths.

With a low growl, I thrust harder and faster, burying myself deep within Ivy's warm, wet pussy. She cried out, her body trembling beneath mine, as I pushed her to the brink of pleasure and pain.

"I'm gonna cum, Ivy," I warned her, my voice raw with anticipation. "Are you ready for it?"

Ivy's eyes locked onto mine, her lips parted in a silent scream. She was close, too, her body tense and quivering with anticipation. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I want to feel you inside me."

As if on cue, my orgasm hit me like a train, my vision blurring as waves of pleasure crashed over me. I thrust into Ivy with all my might, filling her with my cum as she moaned and writhed beneath me.

I could feel Ivy's pussy clenching around my cock, milking me for all I had, and it was the most intense experience of my life. I knew in that moment that I was in too deep, that there was no turning back. We had crossed a line together, and there was no going back.

As I collapsed beside her, my chest heaving with exertion, I looked at her, a question burning in my mind. But before I could voice it, she spoke, her voice a mixture of amusement and defiance.

"I microwaved the cock of a guy. If you're wondering why I'm here," she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

I blinked, stunned by her casual admission. "You what?" I managed to sputter, my mind struggling to process her words.

Ivy shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. "Long story," she replied, her eyes glinting with mischief. 

"I need to pee," I blurted out, the words breaking the heavy silence.

Ivy's lips twitched with amusement, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, go ahead," she said, she leaned forward, her lips wrapping around my cock. I gasped in surprise as she took me into her mouth, the sensation both strange and strangely exhilarating.

As the warmth of her mouth enveloped me, I let go, feeling the rush of release as I began to urinate. Ivy's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she drank, swallowing with an audible gulp as she took me in.

The sound echoed in the quiet of the room, a strange mixture of intimacy and taboo. I felt a flush of satisfaction wash over me, but at the same time, a strange sense of liberation.

When I had finished, Ivy released me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked up at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Better?" she asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

I nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. "Yeah," I replied, my voice hoarse with emotion. "Yeah, much better."