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Saturday, December 31, 2011


Looking back on the months gone by.
A new year starts as an old one ends.
We contemplate what brought us joy.
And we think of our family and friends.
Recalling the happy times.
Remembering how they enhanced our lives,
We reflect upon who really counts,
As the bright new year arrives.
And when I ponder over those who do,
I immediately think of you.
Thank you to everyone for a wonderful 2011!  Here's to 2012 - Happy New Year from Down Under!!!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Merry Christmas

Hi everyone!

Rhiannon Irons here wishing you all a safe and Merry Christmas and hope that you all have a wonderful New Years!

Here at The Final Curtain, we're taking a little break but, don't despair because we'll be back in the New Year, better than before with lots more stories, poems, rants, interviews and fun facts trivia.

Thank you to all of you who have taken time out of your busy lives to read a single post.  It's because of you that 2011 has been our most productive and successful year ever!  From the bottom of my heart I send all of you hugs and kisses as I say "Thank you."

Here's to 2012 - may The Final Curtain be as successful next year as it was this year.

To my fellow writers, James and Hazlo - you two men are truly inspiring.  Your works are beyond amazing and I can't wait to see what the new year has in store for you.  I also can't wait to combine our talents and see where that takes us.  Gentlemen, I wish you a very Merry Christmas and have a wonderful New Years.

To the man behind the scenes, Trent - You have been a solid rock this past year.  And I want to thank you for taking a step out from the shadows and jumping into the limelight as our head interviewer.  I appreciate everything you've done for me over the past twelve months.  May you have a blessed Christmas and New Years, filled with laughter, joy and love.

To all our readers - THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING!!!  It's because of all your wonderful comments that I was able to spur on and create some of the best stories in my personal vault.  I love each and every one of you.

Happy Holidays, everyone!  Stay safe and we'll see you all real soon!

Lots of love,

Rhiannon Irons

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Happy Holidays

Hello gentle readers,

Well, it's that time of year again. We've decked the halls (and a few family members along the way), over done the Christmas carols and above all, have shaken the presents under the tree so many times, we're convinced we already know what's in the boxes.  But still, sometimes we forget through all the commercialism of Christmas that the real meaning is giving.  So please, in these hard times, give all that you can, whether it be donated goods, money, or even an hour of your time. 

Sadly, on the 21st, we are calling it a year here on The Final Curtain.  Thank you to each and every one of you who have made 2011 a remarkable year for this blog.  Thank you to everyone who has read a single post, retweeted a tweet, acknowledged our existence.  You have made this year one of our greatest and now we can't wait to come back in 2012, bigger and better than before with lots more short stories, poems, interactive debates and interviews with the writers that are behind the magic of The Final Curtain.

To James Thompson - here's to another wonderful year.  Thank you for your contributions, whether it be posts or comments.  I look forward to more one on one's with you in the near future and seeing what kinds of horror magic you can pull out of that little black hat of yours. 

To Hazlo - I can't wait to see what kind of magic you can create in the New Year.  Your tales of erotica have our fans begging for more.  You are an exceptionally talented man.

To Rhiannon Elizabeth Irons - this blog wouldn't be possible if it wasn't for you and all the hard work you put into it.  You are an amazing writer with a heart of gold and mind filled with 1001 short stories, ready to be told.  Thank you for allowing me time to squeeze in a couple of interviews over the course of the last 12 months.  I can't wait to see what 2012 has in store for you, and your writing.

Merry Christmas everyone! May your holidays be filled with laughter, love and fun.


Friday, December 16, 2011

Confessions Of A Slave

She stood before him, naked. Her left arm draped over her ample breasts while her right hand lingered near her shaved pussy, hiding it from his view. 

He was topless, his erection straining against his pants.

“Drop your hands,” he commanded. She licked her lips, her body shaking slightly. She shook her head as her nerves finally set in. She could feel her cheeks burn as his dark eyes lingered, taking in the site of her curvaceous body.

He smiled sweetly and turned his back from her. When he turned back he held in his hands a pair of purple leather cuffs, a small chain linking them together. She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a kiss. 

His tongue tickled the tip of hers and she sighed, dropping her guard – and her arm – for just a moment. Quickly, he fastened the leather cuff to her wrist then, breaking the kiss, pulled her arm behind her back. Just as he had anticipated, she tried to swat him with her right hand. He grabbed that, fastening the other cuff to her wrist and securing them behind her back.

He watched as she tugged at the restraints before looking over her shoulder at him. He kissed her neck, sucking and nipping at the tender flesh. She whimpered. He always knew what turned her on.

His hands roamed over her body, feeling her curves, before cupping her beasts, tugging at her nipples. He moved around her so he was facing her. He lent down, taking one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue rolling around it, feeling it stiffen in his mouth. He repeated the procedure with the other one.

She closed her eyes, her breathing ragged, uneven. She could feel herself becoming aroused, her juices seeping down the inside of her leg. 


She cried out as his hand swatted against her ass. She hadn't excepted that. He did it again. Her reaction was the same.

He chuckled to himself as he walked away, returning with a ball gag. “Can't have you crying out,” he said, thrusting it between her teeth and securing it tightly behind her head. She swore, or at least she tried to. It came out all muffled as he circled her, his hand raised, preparing to strike.


She cried out again. She couldn't help it. Her butt was beginning to sting and she knew her cheeks had turned red from his hand. She pulled at her restraints, eyes wide as he turned his back to her again.

A wicked smile played on his face as he turned back to her. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He sat on the bed and perched her on his knee. He pressed something small against her breast. She glanced down.

What she saw made her eyes grow wide. In his hand was a small butt plug. She squirmed on his lap, bumping his erection, but he held her firmly. He switched it on and it began to hum. He pressed it against her nipple causing her to whimper in protest. 

Carefully, he laid her across his lap, her ass in the air. He gave it a gentle rub, feeling the heat that rose from where he had smacked her. She glanced over her shoulder as he parted her cheeks, his fingers slipping between her thighs, sliding into her aching flesh with ease.

Coating the plug in her juices, he then proceeded to press it against her anus. She cried out, feeling it enter her body, the vibrations powerful, her body shaking in response to the invader.

He gave her playful tap on the butt before pushing her onto the bed. She stared up at him, unable to read his thoughts on what he had planned for her. Her mouth felt dry, a slight string of drool dripping out the corner of her mouth.

He pulled her legs apart, cuffing her to the bed, completely spread, her body open to him to do whatever he wanted.

He ran his hand over her body, feeling her firm breasts, rolling her nipples around in his fingers before running his hand across her belly, down her thighs and legs before tickling the bottom of her foot. She groaned, struggling to free herself.

Taking her left foot in hand, he kissed each toe before running his tongue over them, sucking on them. He watched as she wiggled on the bed. He could tell by the way the sheets had creased that she was gripping them with her fists.

He continued to lick and suck her toes before moving onto the other foot and repeating his movements. 

Kissing. Sucking. Massaging. Licking. To her it was torture. She wanted him to touch her moist pussy. She wanted him to circle his tongue around her clitoris, probing it inside her. She was aching for his hard cock inside her. But this was his game. Her body was his and he was playing it like a harp. He knew all the right strings to pluck.

She wiggled her hips, hoping to send him a message that she was dying without his touch. He got the message alright and leaned up between her legs, blowing warm air onto her, causing her pussy to twitch. It glistened from her moisture and he couldn't help himself. He had to taste her.

His tongue darted out, catching her clitoris ever so lightly. She jumped, eyes rolling back in her head, a moan of delight escaping her gagged mouth.

Holding her thighs, he flickered his tongue across her clit again, feeling her muscles jump. His tongue probed inside her, slurping up her juices, causing more to flow. He inserted two fingers, watching them slide into her warm body with such ease. He sucked her clitoris into his mouth, feeling it swell as he thrust his fingers in and out of her, torturing her body to the point that she couldn't take it any more. 

Arching her back, she came with a muffled cry, her nails gripping at the sheets of his bed, her skin soaked with sweat, her long blonde hair stuck to her skin, matted with perspiration.

Her body shook violently as he continued to suck on her clit, prolonging her orgasm, forcing another one from her. His fingers continued to slide in and out, feeling her whole body twitch as though ever nerve was on fire.

She began shaking her head from side to side, begging for him to stop with muffled pleas as a third orgasm ripped through her. Never had she come in such quick succession before. Forget that, never had she had multiple orgasms before. Her eyes were closed, sweat dripping down her nose, between her breasts, down the plain of her belly. 

He withdrew his fingers, his tongue giving her clitoris one final flicker goodbye. She felt the bed move and slowly opened her eyes when she heard his pants unzip. 

She was spent. She was convinced she couldn't take any more pleasure from him. Hell, at this point she couldn't remember her own name. 

The bed moved again as he climbed back on. He undid the restraints holding her legs wide apart. Leaving the leather cuffs on her ankles, he reattached a chain between them, causing her legs to come together. 

Breathing hard, her breasts rising with each deep breath she took, she looked up at him, her green eyes glassy. He lifted her legs, resting them on his shoulder as he entered her.

He watched as her eyes closed again, her hips grinding against him, her body writhing before him. With her ankles secured together, the feeling of him inside her became more predominate. She could feel every inch of his quivering member as it stroked in and out of her at a steady rhythm that threatened to send her over the edge again.

Sweat fell from his brow, his eyes darkening as he felt his own orgasm build. He wanted to come with her. He could feel her muscles tighten but knew it would take a little extra encouraging. He licked his thumb and began rubbing her clit in a slow, circular manner. His thumb became slick with her juices. 

He maintained his rhythm, gliding in and out of her, rubbing her clit, watching her body for signs that she was close. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes closed, nostrils flaring. Her breasts began to rise quicker, her breathing becoming uneven. Her inner muscles began to clench at his cock as that familiar feeling began to swell in her belly.

Her hands gripped the sheets, her head tossing from side to side as her fourth orgasm came to head. He smiled in satisfaction as he felt her body convulse around his throbbing appendage. She was shaking as he came, shooting his thick, hot, white cream inside her.

Smiling, he reached out to her, moving her hair from in front of her face. With trembling fingers he undid the gag, removing it from her mouth. She gasped, stretching her jaw as he dropped it next to her. He rolled her on her side, switching off the vibrating butt plug and removing it from her body. 

He kissed her passionately, his tongue dancing with hers, his hands roaming over her breasts. She wiggled a little, wishing she could press her hands against his firm chest, feeling his body beneath her fingers. 

He pulled away from her, getting to his feet. 

Struggling in her binds, she managed to get herself up into a sitting position, a combination of his come and hers leaking out of her, running down her thigh and pooling on the sheet beneath her. “Aren't you forgetting something?” she asked, breathlessly, hinting at her restraints.

He just smiled. “I've got so much more planned for you,” he replied with a devilish wink.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Sex Manual For Computer Experts

1) Be user friendly

2) Take bytes

3) Fondle joystick

4) Spread sheet

5) Fix surge protector

6) Activate hardware

7) Insert disc, all the way

8) Do it until megabytes

9) Back it up

10) Eject floppy

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

The Accident

When David looked back on the events of the night – on everything that had happened – he realised that it would never have happened if it wasn't for his three year anniversary dinner with his wife.

He sped along the road, determined to get home in time for their special dinner. 

David was an insurance salesman and often had to go out of town on long business trips. While he hated being away from his wife, the money was too good to pass up. He was providing her with a life in which they were accustomed. 

“I'll be home by seven,” he had told her over the phone that morning as he was packing to leave the hotel. “I promise.”

His wife had sighed. She had heard these types of promises before and yet David had never followed through with any of them. Work had always interfered. She had even begged him not to leave for the trip, knowing it would impact on their anniversary, but David had kissed her deeply and told her that the money was too good and, that with the extra cash, he could buy her a nice present.

David glanced over to the passenger seat where a small box sat, a pale, robin-egg blue ribbon delicate wrapping around the lid. Inside was the most exquisite diamond earrings he had ever seen. His wife had seen them in a store, her eyes lighting up, but upon finding out the price tag, she dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

The car cruised along the dark road. The sun had already set. David glanced at his watch. He was running late. It was nearing seven. Stomping on the gas, David willed the car to hurry up.

As he rounded the corner, the present slid forward, falling off the seat. David swore and lent down to pick it up.

The car veered to the left as he scrambled to pick up the box. His fingers grasped the ribbon and he pulled the box up, resting it back on the seat. 

A horn blast made him look back at the road. Panicking, he pulled the car back into the right hand lane. The other car passed with the driver flipping David off. 

Breathing heavily, David grasped the steering wheel firmly, his knuckles turning white.

Something up ahead caught his attention. There was movement in the center of the road. David squinted as the headlights washed over a figure standing in the middle of the road. It was a woman, waving her arms about, trying to catch his attention. 

David cried out, cranking hard on the wheel. The car began to spin, scraping against the guard rail. Sparks flew, lighting up the night sky, and there was a loud bang as one of the tires exploded with a puncture.

The car came to a complete stop. David's head rested on the steering wheel, a trickle of blood running down his forehead. He groaned, his eyes opening. He held his head in his hands, a headache suddenly emerging.

The woman.

David was certain that he hadn't hit her.

He opened the car door and stumbled out, falling onto the road.

David stood, using the car to stabilize himself. He looked at where the woman had been standing. She wasn't there. Maybe she got out of the way, he thought. Maybe I didn't hit her.

He felt the cut on his forehead. His fingers were sticky with blood.

That's when he saw her. Standing by the side of the road, she held her right arm gingerly. David rubbed his head. “Are you alright?” she asked, timidly stepping forward.

David flashed her a shaky smile. “I'm fine. Are you alright?”

The woman shook her head, stepping into the direct light of the headlights. David gasped. Her jeans and T-shirt were soaked with blood. Her hair was matted to her body and her right arm was so horribly broken, David could see the bone poking out from the skin. She nursed her broken arm, wincing each time she moved it. David could tell she was in a lot of pain. 

Here.”  He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her, careful not to bump her arm. The woman thanked him. He tried ushering her into his car, reasoning that with a flat tire he'd still be able to make it to a hospital. 

The woman shook her head fiercely. “But you have to get to a hospital,” David reasoned. “You need medical attention urgently.” 

Once again the woman shook her head. “My son,” she said, through chapped lips. “My son is still in the wreckage. I can't get him out. Not with this.” She indicated to her broken arm. 

Where's the wreckage?” David asked.

The woman began leading him to the upcoming bend. Even in the dark, David could see that the guard rail had been broken where a car had hurtled through it. He could see a clear line of demolished trees. 

Carefully, David aided the young woman down the embankment. He couldn't imagine how she had managed to climb it with that badly broken arm. 

Once they were down among the trees the woman led him through the path of destruction, muttering to herself. David strained his ears to listen. “I told him to slow down. I told him, I told him, I told him.”

A blinking light caught David's attention. He placed his hand on the woman's shoulder. The car was smashed into a thick tree trunk, the indicators blinking. David could smell fuel and knew that the gas tank had been ruptured in the crash.

He approached the car cautiously. He could see the driver slumped over the steering wheel, clearly dead. His passenger was also dead, judging from the position of her body against the dash. David turned to the woman. “You were very lucky you were sitting in the back with your son,” he told her, opening the back door where the child was. “Otherwise you might have been killed too.”

The woman didn't seem interested in David's observation. “Is he alright?” she asked, nervously biting on her lower lip. “Is my son OK?”

David leaned into the car. The stench of death was almost unbearable. He pressed his ear against the small boy's chest and listened. There is was. A heartbeat. It was faint and David had to strain to hear it, but it was definitely there.

He's alive,” he declared. The woman smiled as David struggled with the child's seat belt. The woman gave him instructions, telling him how to unlock it. David grimaced as his nails dug into the buckle, fighting the lock. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard it click.

He picked the boy up, resting his head on his shoulder and moved away from the car. The woman was fawning over her son, touching his tussled hair lightly. 

His name is Max,” the woman said softly as David held the child in his arms. Max began to squirm and cry. The woman must have gotten a fright because she retracted her hand away from her son. She grimaced in pain. 

There, there, Max,” David said soothingly. “You're alright, champ.” Max quietened and nestled himself into David's shoulder. David carried the young boy back towards the road. He helped the woman up the embankment and back to his car.

Your tire,” the woman said. “You can't drive like that.”

David reached out to her in a calming gesture.

I've got a phone. I'll call for help,” he told her, opening the back door for her. “I want you to rest here. I'll put Max in the front passenger seat.”

The woman didn't respond but willingly climbed into the back seat. David carefully placed Max in the front seat then proceeded to wrap his mother up in a warm blanket. He fumbled about in his pocket and called 911. Then he paced the road until he heard sirens in the distance. 

Max began to cry. David reached into the car and picked up Max, holding him tightly as the police and ambulance arrived. David rushed over to them and told them of the wreckage and that the mother of Max was badly hurt and was resting in the back seat of his car.

While the police slid down the embankment, complete with a couple of paramedics, David lead the other ambulance staff to his car. “She has a broken arm and there's a lot of blood. I think sitting in the back seat of the car is what saved her,” he told them as they approached his car.

One of the paramedics looked in the back seat. “So where is this lady?” he asked.

What?” David pushed him aside. He had left her right there while he tried to soothe Max. David slumped against the car. “She must have gone back down to the car,” he said. “I think her husband was driving. She muttered something about begging him to slow down.”

The paramedic radioed his co-worker that was down at the wreck. The radio crackled as the other paramedic answered. “There's no one down here aside from two bodies.”

David felt sick. He collapsed against his car. “Sir? Sir? Are you alright, sir?” the paramedic asked him. David shook his head, his mind racing a million miles an hour. It wasn't possible? It couldn't be, could it? He licked his lips. He had to see for himself. 

Without warning, David took off, running down the embankment towards the mangled wreck of the car. He pushed aside the paramedic and the cops. Sitting in the front passenger seat was a woman. Her long dark hair covered her face, her T-shirt and jeans were soaked with blood. David reached out and touched her cheek. Her head turned, her blue eyes staring at him. David gasped, his hand covering his mouth. That woman, the woman who wanted his help to free her son, she was dead.

* * * * *

It took a while for David to convince the police that nothing was wrong and that there was no one else. They paramedics took Max to the hospital, while the cops helped David change his tire before waving him off.

Needless to say David missed his anniversary dinner. But he was home by eleven that evening and he was grateful to be there. He had told his wife most of the story as he presented her with the earrings. After all, he felt she had a right to know. But he never told her, or anybody else, the entire story. He was afraid that no one would believe him. Or that he was stupid. Everytime he looked back on the events himself, he felt foolish for having missed the most obvious thing that was now permanently burned on his brain. Whenever he closed his eyes he could see it over and over again.

The woman, standing in the middle of the road, whitewashed in the harsh glare of his headlights.

Frantically waving him down....with her totally useless, horribly broken arm.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

13 Fun Facts About Rhiannon Irons

Greetings gentle readers.

Trent here with a fun little post with 13 fun facts about Rhiannon Elizabeth Irons. Some of these you may know, others you may not. Get a deeper look at the author we've come to know and love.

13) Rhiannon is a natural blonde - yes, it's true. At the age of 13 she began coloring her hair, adding highlights to brighten the blonde before going brunette at 16. Since then she alternates between dark and blonde every couple of years.

12) Had three sets of earrings when she was 15 to be like her idol, Sarah Michelle Gellar. Earlier this year, Rhiannon decided to remove the top two sets as it was "too much effort to keep them in."

11) Had her bellybutton pierced at 15 because Britney Spears had hers done.

10) Got her first tattoo at 19 then her second at 21. Her first tattoo design can be found in Britney's Oops...! I Did It Again album booklet (the fairy design) and is located on her lower back while her second tattoo is that of Scar from Disney's The Lion King and is located on the back of her neck.

9) Has two small scars, one her right arm and one on her back, from having skin cancers removed.

8) Has never had a filling. At 25 she is still a proud member of the cavity free club.

7) Sometimes suffers from bad cases of insomnia. Often lies awake until 2 or 3 in the morning watching movies before only getting 3-4hours of sleep.

6) Is often referred to as "one of the boys" due to her love of horror, sport and video games.

5) Has only ever been in two serious relationships.

4) Is more submissive in bed despite writing steamy erotica tales.  Some may find this odd because she has such a dominate personality and can be quite the seductress.

3) Rhiannon wanted to be either a police officer or a journalist when she was younger. She now wants to study psychology as well as follow her dream of being a writer.

2) Won a state wide competition at the age of 7 for two stories she wrote. She has been writing ever since.

1) Considers herself to be an "old soul" and is well known for her random fun facts not only about movies, but about life in general.

So there you have it. 13 Fun Facts about Rhiannon Elizabeth Irons. But while we're here, I have one more fun fact to share: 13 is her lucky number - it's the date of her birth.

I hope you enjoyed yourself, thank you for reading. Please feel free to leave a comment or two and stay tuned for future updates from myself, James, Hazlo and the puppet master herself, Rhiannon Irons.


Thursday, December 8, 2011


He stared at her. Her fingers intertwined with the black satin sheets, her blonde hair caressing her sun kissed shoulders, her mouth parted slightly as she slept. His eyes drifted down her body, her toned features showing beautifully through the sheet. He was suddenly hard again.

She rolled over, the steel handcuff dangling from her wrist glistened in the moonlight. He reached for it, unlocking it with the key that dangled from his neck. She shifted slightly at his gentle touch.

It had only been two month since she walked into his life. From the moment he spoke to her he knew there was something between them. Their love of horrors lead them to a quick internet fling. Her flirtations fuelled his fire while his sensitivity gave her new hope that not all men were assholes.

He sighed remembering her last e-mail. She was coming to the United States to try and sell her novel. She had mentioned she would like to meet him. He didn't need to think twice about answering that. Yes. Yes! A million times, yes.

She wiggled a little, her hand slipping underneath a pillow. He smiled faintly. She was almost the polar opposite of him and yet somehow they clicked.

They had agreed to meet at a small cafe in the heart of town. He kept telling himself it was to make her feel more comfortable, as he sat, impatiently, drumming his fingers across the table top.

A taxi pulled up outside. The back door opened as a gorgeous blonde emerged. He felt his breath hitch as he studied her. The tight fitting blue jeans hugged the curves of her waist and the baby pink T-shirt clung tightly to her impressive chest. He licked his lips. A small band of tanned flesh appeared whenever she lifted her arms above her head.

She entered the cafe. All eyes moved to her. She lifted her sunglasses, her blue-green eyes sweeping the room until they landed on him. She smiled and made her way over to him, a little model wiggle in her walk.

He stood up as she approached. "Hello," he said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss on the cheek. Her smile widened as she returned his greeting. He held out her chair. "Please, have a seat." She obliged, tossing her golden mane over her shoulders.

"I'm sorry that I was late," she said, tucking her sunglasses into her bag. "This jet lag has really knocked me around." He licked his lips. "It's OK," he replied, eyes studying her intently.

She gave him a weak smile and rubbed her palms on her jeans. She was nervous as all hell and she was sweating more then a prostitute in church.

She wasn't very confident in herself. Though she was blonde with big blue-green eyes, sun kissed skin and a fake rack, she still felt insecure. It didn't help that everyone was staring at them, whispering. She took a deep breath and glanced up at him. He was tall, much taller then her, with long dark hair, a teasing smile and eyes that bore holes into her soul. He wore a long, leather coat, black pants and a black shirt. She shifted slighting and glanced down at her own clothing. Blue jeans, pink T-shirt with the words 'Blondes Do It Better' blared across her ample chest. Her jewellery didn't help her feel any better either. A gold and emerald ring on her left middle finger, a dolphin gold ring on her right hand, a gold crucifix hanging around her neck. She looked at his hand. A single silver skull ring stared back at her.

It took her a few minutes to realise he had been talking to her this whole time. She looked up at his eyes. He had told her prior to their meeting that they were different. That they glowed. He wasn't lying. They were flashing before her very eyes. She tilted her head to one side. "I'm really sorry," she said. "It must be the jet lag. I haven't heard a thing you've said."

He gave her a smile. "It's alright." He leant forward, cupping her chin in his hand. "You don't have to be so nervous, love."

She felt her face grow warm and she knew she was blushing. He kissed her cheek tenderly. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, timidly. He nodded, his eyes studying hers. Her cheeks turned pink again and she lowered her gaze to her hands that were nestled in her lap. He moved her head up so she'd look at him. "Those pretty eyes should be looking at me, not at your hands," he told her, his thumb caressing the curve of her jaw.

Her face turned the same colour as her T-shirt. He laughed, one hand caressing her face, the other holding her hand. "Want to get out of here?" he asked, quietly, leaning forward in hopes of stealing a kiss from her. She nodded meekly. He stood pulling her up with him. She grabbed her bag and followed him out of the cafe.

The sun was bright, even for an Autumn day. People were racing past them wearing coats and layers. She giggled to herself. She didn't feel the chill in the air despite not wearing a lot. "So," she began, a million questions running through her mind. "Am I everything you expected?" She waited with baited breath for his answer.

"Not really," he said, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. "You're so much more then what I anticipated." For the first time since they met, her smile was broad and genuine. "That's good to hear," she commented as they crossed the road.

"So where are we going?"

He smiled. "I was thinking of taking you back to my place." She stopped walking, a look of sheer panic crossed her face. He stopped, turning to her, his arms outstretched. "Kitten, I didn't mean anything sleazy by that." He pulled her into his body, her hands resting on his forearms. "All I meant was, let's go back to my place. We can talk without the eyes of the world ogling us."

He felt her relax a little. "That sounds great," she replied, touching his chest slightly. She bit her lip. She was attracted to him and it scared her. She hadn't had a lot of experience with men even though she had been engaged for ten months. She began to wonder if this was to turn sexual, could she please him.

He had known from the minute he spoke to her that she liked him. She was just grateful he didn't see her like every other man did; a blonde airhead with an impressive rack.

As she touched his chest, she felt a little bolder. She cocked her head to one side, licked her lips and gave him a sly smile. "Who cares what the rest of the world thinks," she said suggestively. She stood on her toes and kissed him hard. Her tongue tangled with his and, for a brief moment, it felt like there was no one else in the entire world except for them.

His hands dipped low on her waist while her breasts were crushed against his chest. Her arms had snaked their way behind his neck and her eyes had closed. Damn, he thought, running a hand across the curve of her backside. Confidence is sexy on her.

She pulled away, her eyes flashing green. She ducked her head, embarrassed about her sudden confidence boost. Stupid, she thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was mentally kicking herself when he touched her arm lightly. "Wow," was all he could muster. He had dreamed she would take control at some point, but never envisioned that she would do it right in broad daylight.

He flashed her a smile before taking her hand, leading her towards his car. He opened the door for her, waiting for her to climb in. She thanked him, slipping into the passenger seat. "You're welcome," he said, closing the door behind her. He moved around the car, climbed into the drivers side and started the engine.

They drove in silence until they reached his house. Every now and then he would sneak glances at her. He would see her chest rise and he knew that she could feel him watching her. He killed the engine. "Home, sweet home," he murmured, opening his door.

She climbed out before he had a chance to climb out himself. She caught him looking at her. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said automatically. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Of course not, kitten," he said, closing the gap between them. He took her in his arms and gave her the most passionate kiss she ever had. Their tongues danced the tango as his hands roamed her body. He tapped his hand lightly on her ass, while hers were pressed flat against his chest. He held her tight as her fingers made their way to his hair. The dark strands fell through her fingers as a low moan escaped from her.

He pulled away, a whimper of disapproval coming from her. Her knees wobbled slightly. Every inch of her body ached for him. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her. She wanted him to show her, without getting all Disney-like, a whole new world.
As if he read her mind he picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. She squealed out of reflex, kicking her legs. "Put me down!" she cried, a chuckle escaping from her lips. He unlocked the front door before carrying her inside.

He bypassed the living room and entered his bedroom. He laid her down on his bed, her pink t-shirt riding up to expose her taut stomach. He kissed her stomach, his tongue circling her navel. She wiggled slightly, unsure of where to put her hands. He kissed the front of her jeans before making his way back up to her breasts.

Her flesh was smooth and hot to touch. He could feel her body warming to him, he could smell her desire. He pulled her up into a sitting position, slipping her T-shirt over her head. A bright pink lacy bra stared back at him. His erection strained against his pants.

He had seen her before in skimpy attire. She had sent pictures of herself in lingerie or swimwear and while they got him hot, nothing could prepare him for what stood before him now. He pulled her off the bed, vowing himself to take it slow with her. He knew she didn't have a lot of experience. He knew she was scared of being intimate. He knew that she had been sexually assaulted and that it played on her mind most of the time.

He removed his jacket as her arms tried to cover her breasts. "Don't shy away from me, sweetheart," he said soothingly. "I don't bite . . . hard." He flashed his fangs for the first time. She gasped and took two steps backwards, her feet tangling in the discarded bed sheets. She cried out as she began to fall.

Quick as lightning, he caught her. She clung to him and tried to untangle herself. "Are you alright?" he asked, his lips brushing her ear. She nodded, breathing hard. She knew he had fangs. He had told her. But regardless, she was surprised. And a little frightened. After all, no one knew where she was. Her family thought she had gone to New York City.

"I was a little caught off guard," she admitted, avoiding his gaze that fell on her like a weight. "I knew they were there, I just wasn't . . . " she let her voice trail off. She couldn't think of any suitable words. She had freaked out. Plain and simple.

She reached for her discarded T-shirt, knowing that he probably wanted nothing to do with her after the way she had reacted. After all her preaching of not caring what a person looked like, she had freaked over a pair of exceptionally large teeth. He grabbed her hand, kicking the T-shirt from her reach. "It was a shock to you. That's alright. You gasped. You didn't scream so I count that as a plus."

He pulled her body close to his. Her back pressed against his chest. He ran his hands up and down her arms, trying to sooth her, relax her. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on breathing. He kissed the top of her head before kissing her neck. He nipped her lightly, pulling her tender flesh into his mouth, gently sucking. She whimpered. He continued sucking at her neck as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans.

His fingers rubbed the outside of her lacy pink thong. She gasped, gripping his arm, as his index finger pushed aside the skimpy material, sliding into her with ease. She was surprised at how turned on she was.

He stoked her, gently but firmly, his head nuzzling her neck. Her eyes closed as her breathing became short and shallow. Her breath hitched as he added another finger. A low moan escaped from him. He withdrew from her. She whimpered, eyes opening slowly. He squeezed her gently, kissing her before growling, playfully. "More where that came from, darling. Come to the show, and after, I'll give you a private encore."

She bit her lip but nodded meekly. She picked up her T-shirt, slipping it over her head, all the while wondering why her jeans hadn't burst into flames. He was making her so hot and she didn't seem to be having any effect on him. She tugged her shirt down and caught sight of his erection. OK, so maybe she did have an effect on him.

She sat on the corner of his bed, back straight, as he changed his shirt and grabbed his jacket. She stared at the wall, at a painting that hung proudly, surrounded by photos. He was an exceptional artist. She had told him so time and time again. He even offered to illustrate the front and back cover of her book. She smiled to herself. She hoped that wasn't all he was going to be offering.

He slipped his jacket on, eyes studying her. She seemed so intrigued by his art work that she hadn't noticed him creeping up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her body. She jumped. She wasn't expecting that, but she found when she was dealing with him, to expect the unexpected.

"Sorry, kitten," he whispered. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me. Startled maybe, but not scare."

He chuckled. He had never revealed so much of his life to someone before. Oh sure, there had been other women, but none that had her wit or charm that oozed from her so seductively.

"Come on," he said, tugging her arm lightly. "Come watch my performance. After that . . . " he let his voice trail off but gave her a sly wink. She could feel her face growing warm and she knew she was blushing again.

They walked outside. The air was much cooler know and her skin reacted. Goosebumps appeared. She rubbed her bare arms, trying to keep warm. He opened the car door for her. She smiled and thanked him. He closed the door and scooted around to the drivers door.

Upon starting the engine he glanced at her. He could see the bumps on her arms. He turned the heater on. "How's that?" he asked, resting his hand on her thigh. She smiled at him. "I appreciate it," she said. He grinned. It was hard to focus on the road when he had her sitting beside him.

He held her hand for most the ride, only letting go when he had to change gears.

The car stopped outside a small club. The car park was dimly lit but she could see that it was packed. She shivered as he got out. She wasn't a clubbing kind of person. Although she was only 23, she felt like she was past it. The door opened and she stepped out. She shivered again. Looking at the club she knew that under no circumstances would she normally enter.

He draped his long jacket over her and she glanced up at him. Biting her lip she gave him a shaky smile. He would protect her should anything go wrong. She thanked him for his jacket and followed him like a lost puppy.

The bouncer at the door let them straight in. Red lights lit up the place. Pulsing music surrounded them. Looking at every other patron in the club she felt out of place. Her hair was neatly trimmed and her skin had a glow about it. Her jeans weren't ripped and her T-shirt had a rather suggestive message blazed across the front of it. Not too mention it was pink. The only other pink thing she could see was a streak in someone's hair.

He took her hand, leading her towards the stage. Pushing the curtain aside, he introduced her to his band mates. She politely shook their hands, a wobbly smile forming on her face. He wrapped his arm around her, protectively. "Don't worry, love, they don't bite."

Her head snapped up so fast he was afraid she might have sustained whiplash. "That's what you said," she teased, tilting her head so he could see the small bruise forming on the side of her neck. He touched it lightly. "Told you I bruise easily," she said, lowering her gaze and staring at the drum kit. He tilted her head to look at him. "Please don't shy away from me, kitten," he said, wrapping his arm around her waist. He kissed her forehead.

"Be right back," he whispered, his tongue tracing an invisible line down her neck. She swallowed hard. She watched as he made his way onto the stage.

He was a true showman, in every sense of the word. He even had his own groupies that hung onto every word that came out of his mouth. They all knew the lyrics and yet the only lyrics she knew were to the entire Michael Jackson catalogue. If she didn't feel out of place before, she certainly did now.

Two hours later his set was finished. He walked off the stage to see her sitting on top of a crate, coughing. She was surrounded by fans and the second-hand smoke was really getting to her. She was putting on pleasantries for the sake of him but he could tell that she was intimidated by all the women in tight fitting jeans and sneering expressions. The guys weren't much better. Unshaven, hair unwashed and smoking like chimney stacks.

"And so, like, this piercing right here, I got from the same guy that put this tattoo on my ass," said Veruca, a young woman with straight black hair with red highlights that had befriended her. She lifted up her top to show off her nipple ring. "That's very interesting," she mused, trying her hardest not to look or breathe in the toxic smoke fumes that wafted up her nose.

"Wanna see the tattoo?"

She looked up as he approached them. "No, that's OK," she said, waving Veruca off. She shot him a look that practically screamed 'Get Me Out Of Here' as she climbed off the crate.

He made his way through the mills of people that surrounded him, eyes trained on her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close to his body. He kissed the top of her head. "Ready to leave?" he asked, hand slipping below her waist and patting her on the ass. She gave him a weary smile. "Only if you are," she replied.

She was being polite and he knew it. She didn't feel comfortable and it was expressed in her body language. She was trying to keep an open mind and he appreciated that. He held her hand. "I'm ready," he said, kissing the back of her hand. She gave him a grateful smile. She was so relieved to be leaving that she was practically dragging him outside.

The cool, clean air was refreshing. She shivered slightly. She forgot how cold the night air actually was. He handed her his jacket again. "Glad to be out of there?" he asked, a teasing smile crossing his face.

"What makes you say that?" she asked. She hoped she hadn't offended him but a smoky nightclub just wasn't her scene. Of course, she didn't really know what her scene was. According to her friends back home in Australia, she was the sporn of Satan himself. She never really understood why they considered her pure evil. She was nice to everyone unless someone really ticked her off, then those martial arts skills would come out of the closet and they would never be heard from again.

But she didn't look at herself as evil. Her favourite quote was always 'I'm not as innocent as I look, but I'm not as bad as you think.' Whenever she looked into a mirror all she saw was blonde hair, blue-green eyes and imperfections. She didn't consider herself to be a beauty because, for years, her mother had made her feel like she was the ugliest person in the world.

"Well, you were pulling me out the door," he teased, placing his heavy jacket on her shoulders. She stared up at him, biting her lip. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to offend you. You can go back in if you'd like."

He hugged her. "Why would I do that?" he replied. "I can come here anytime I want. But right now, I want to be with you. You're the only one on my mind." She kissed his cheek, the wind blowing her blonde hair. He held the back of her head and slipped his tongue between her lips. A primal growl escaped his mouth. He had to have her soon or else he'd be doing her in the car park.

They both got into the car and cruised through the quiet city streets. Every now and then she would glance at him. He could feel her eyes shifting over his body. She chewed her bottom lip, causing it to bleed slightly. He caught sight of the red tinge that was staining her lips. He had made a comment that she only seemed to bite her lip whenever she was nervous or turned on. He glanced at her breasts. Her nipples could be seen through the scrap of fabric she called a shirt. He lowered his gaze to her hands which she was rubbing up and down her jeans. Reaching across, he took one of her hands and flashed her a genuine smile. "Relax, sweetness. We don't have to do anything you don't want to." He rubbed his thumb across her hand, trying to reassure her that she was perfectly safe.

Pulling up in the drive way, the car came to a complete stop. He noticed that she was barely breathing. Her chest rose slightly as she sucked in small amounts of air. He climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger's side. He opened the door and she stumbled out. He caught her arm, holding her steady. "Easy, princess," he whispered as she clung to his broad shoulders.

Opening the door, he lead her inside. He opened the fridge, offering her a drink. She shook her head. "No thank you," she said, her Australian accent flooding his ears. His cock strained for release. She was adorably shy and she was somewhat surprised that he hadn't reacted the same way every other male in her life had. She was surprised he hadn't told her to snap out of it and stop acting like a innocent child.

They entered his bedroom and he immediately closed the door. Nothing had changed from when she was here before. He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside him. She sat. He took her hand, placing it on the bulge in his pants. He watched her eyes grow wide. "I don't want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don't want to," he said, quietly, stroking her cheek. She nodded, avoiding his gaze.

Suddenly her head snapped up, eyes staring directly at his. He watched in awe as they flickered from blue to green and back again. She pulled her shirt over her head and straddled him, a leg on either side of his. He automatically placed his hands on her back as she forcefully kissed him.

She pulled away from him, licking her lips, before climbing off him. He stood up, removing his shirt. Her cheeks tinged pink as he pulled her into him, kissing her with the passion of a thousand Greek gods. She arched her back, a hand snaking through his hair.

He slipped a hand into her jeans, cupping her backside, lifting her off the ground. She gasped, clinging to him, afraid that he'd drop her. He laid her down on his bed, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them off so quickly she was worried that he had vaporised them.

She lay before him wearing nothing more then a bright pink bra and panties set that had him drooling. He watched her chest rise with anticipation of what he was going to do.

They had spoken online about sexual things before. She was very modest, trying to keep an open mind despite her lack of experience, while he had plenty of experience, including role playing and bondage. He wanted to show her that 'dark' side of him and even though they had discussed it prior to their meeting, he was still hesitant.

"Love," he began to say as she sat up slightly, resting on her elbows. "Do you want slow and tender or something with an edge of danger?" He could see her mulling over her options. "Or would you prefer not to do anything at all?" Her lips formed a teasing smirk. "That last sentence is not an option," she retorted, flipping her hair to one side. He was relieved to hear that.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm easy," she finally answered. "I'll go along with whatever you'd like to do." His eyes lit up. She had given him the green light for whatever he wanted. So many things crossed his mind as a wicked smile played on his face.

"Very well."

He asked her to stand before him. She obliged, her long blonde curls falling gracefully behind her shoulders. He reached for her, kissing her lovingly and tenderly. "The safe word is strawberry," he whispered as he grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back.

Tears sprung to her eyes as he sunk his teeth into her neck. She let out a cry of pain as he threw her onto the bed. She rubbed her neck out of reflex and tried desperately to hide the tears which had welled up in her eyes.

He grabbed her, forcing her to bend over the bed, her ass up in the air. He ripped her skimpy panties off before producing a riding crop from his night stand. He lightly trailed it across the curves of her body, flicking it across her ass cheeks. She cried out as he expertly flicked his wrist, making the crop snap across her backside, leaving sore, red welts.

He pulled her hair, forcing her to stand up straight. The crop made a whistling sound as he sailed it through the air and across her butt.

Tears fell from her eyes. Her ass was stinging, her hair was being pulled out of the follicles and she could feel a lump in her throat that she couldn't swallow.

Growing tired of lashing her, he tossed the riding crop to the ground. He let go of her hair and she fell towards the bed. Her breath quickened as he placed his large hands on her shoulders, slipping her bra straps down. He unclipped it, tossing it to the ground. He took her hands, pinning her wrists behind her back. She tried to crane her neck to see what he was doing, but to no avail.

Something cold touched her wrist. She heard a snap and realised that he was handcuffing her. She tried to pull her free arm away, but he held her firmly. She felt the cuff fit around her wrist, locking in place. She tugged, pulling as hard as she could. Nothing. She couldn't free her hands.

He tilted her head, licking the side of her neck. "I've dreamed of this for so long," he told her, kissing her ear followed by her cheek. She couldn't speak. She felt as though her mouth was crammed with cotton wool. It was dry, her tongue felt prickly like a thousand needles.

He pressed her face down on the bed. She heard him unzipping his pants. She wanted to move, to look at him, to see what he was up to, but she didn't dare. She hurt in places she didn't think she could.

He rolled her over, his eyes glowing that ominous green as he entered her. She gasped, turning her head. He was bigger then she expected. He grabbed her hair with one hand while pulling on her nipple with the other. She yelped, her head stinging. "Please, stop," she begged, her voice catching in her throat.

He laughed, his fangs in full sight. "Not a chance, love." He began thrusting into her at a harder pace, pulling her into his lap so she was riding him. He buried his head into her neck, smelling the scent of her skin, tasting her sweat. He nipped her, watching her eyes roll back. He knew she was trying to release her hands. He could tell, based on the movements of her shoulders.

He loved her and he never wanted to hurt her. He could see the tear stains on her cheeks yet she never uttered their safe word. He let go of her hair, instead opting to hold her hips, grinding her up and down against his shaft. He nuzzled her neck. He wanted to taste her blood but knew of her aversion to it. She had told him in the past she usually passed out when she caught sight of it.

He licked the bruise that had developed on her neck. It wouldn't take much for his teeth to puncture her skin. He tugged her hair. "Look at me," he demanded. Her eyes opened. She panted, her chest rising rapidly as she rode him. A faint smile played across his lips. He withdrew from her, pushing her off his lap.

Her legs were shaking as he dropped her to her knees in front of him. She knew what he wanted. She turned her head, eyes closed. "No," she begged, as his hand weaved its way through her hair. He gripped it. He pushed his cock against her mouth, forcing her to suck it.

When she wouldn't open her mouth he pinched her nipple. She let out a surprised cry and found herself gagged by his giant member. She ran her tongue around this shaft, tasting every inch of it. She closed her eyes as she fought her gag reflexes to take him all in. His eyes rolled back and he loosened his grip on her hair.

She could taste herself on him. She could feel him throb and pulse inside her mouth as her tongue did its merry dance. She opened her eyes, glancing up at him. His eyes were closed, head tilted back. He was fighting the urge to come in her pretty little mouth. He pulled away from her, eyes snapping open. He grabbed her arms, forcing her to stand. He used the key that was hanging around his neck to release her from the metal handcuffs.

She rubbed her wrists. She had red marks from where she had been pulling and struggling to break free. She watched him with interest as he removed a jacket from the hook on the back of his door. "Come here," he ordered, holding out his hand. She didn't trust that look in his eyes.

When she didn't move, he picked up the discarded riding crop and smacked her across her breasts with it. Suddenly she was standing beside him. He kissed the welts that appeared just above her nipples. He traced his tongue across the curve of her breasts, stopping to suck each nipple, his teeth gently nipping at them.

Her eyes closed briefly. When she opened them he was gone. Maybe it's over, she thought, wrapping a golden curl around her finger.

Before she had a chance to move, his arms wrapped around her. She shrieked, startled by his sudden reappearance. He held her hands, this time locking them in front of her body. Once she was secure, he raised her arms above her head, placing the chain that ran between the cuffs on the hook on the back of his bedroom door.

She was standing on her toes as he cupped her breasts, biting the tender flesh. He kissed her stomach, licking the ripples of her body. He dropped to his knees, raising one of her legs over his shoulder. He kissed her inner thighs, well aware that she was ticklish. She gasped and tried clamping her thighs together. He laughed softly, the warm air from his mouth tickled her thigh.

Her cheeks were pink, her body glistened from the sweat. Her eyes rapidly changed colour. He wanted her to scream his name.

Closing his eyes, he licked the entire length of her. She moaned, her body reacting. She tugged on the restraints, tossing her head back as he sucked on her clitoris, inserting a finger into her swollen, moist flesh. She shuddered, her body tensing. "S-s-stop," she managed to say as he body finally gave him the reaction he longed for. She came hard, his name escaping from her mouth.

He held her still, refusing to stop licking and sucking her, trying to make her orgasm last as long as possible.

She couldn't take it any more. She uttered their safe word.

He stood up, taking her hands down. She collapsed into his arms, breathing heavily. He held her, releasing on hand. Her hair was matted to her body, soaked in sweat, tear stains on her cheeks. Her ass had red streaks across it from where he had whipped her. She had teeth marks in her neck and on her breasts and her wrists were red from where she battled against his restraints.

He laid her down on his bed, lying next to her, running his hand over her wounds. "Am I bleeding?" she asked, timidly. He shook his head. "No, love," he replied, touching her hair, lovingly. "No blood, though I did think about it." Panic crossed her face. He pulled her naked body into his. "I said, I thought about it," he whispered.

A weak smiled crossed her face. "I could sense that," she told him, her hand lightly touching his chest. She looked up at him. "I feel awful," she said after a minute or two. "I didn't please you." She bit her lip, eyes brimming with tears. He tilted her chin so she'd look at him. "I haven't come, but you have pleased me. Besides," he winked at her. "This tongue doesn't stop until you do."

She blushed, rolling onto her back. He laid on top of her, sliding into her with ease. She tensed. Every nerve was alive and tingling.

He lifted her legs, resting them on his shoulders. He kissed her ankles as he pounded into her with slow, deep thrusts. She gripped the bed sheets, her black fingernails getting lost in a sea of black satin. He bought her legs to one side of his body. Still inside her, he laid behind her, pressing his hand into the plain of her belly. She raised her leg, stretching it into the air so he could go deeper. He reached around, rubbing her clitoris with his hand.

It was this last movement that sent them both over the edge. He came inside her with all the power of an active volcano. She gripped the sheet so tightly as her second orgasm passed, he could see her knuckles turn white.

He withdrew from her, giving her a farewell stroke. He rolled over, grabbed a smoke from his night stand. By the time he lit it and rolled back, she was fast asleep.

He stared at her. Her fingers intertwined with the black satin sheets, her blonde hair caressing her sun kissed shoulders, her mouth parted slightly as she slept. His eyes drifted down her body, her toned features showing beautifully through the sheet. He was suddenly hard again.

She rolled over, the steel handcuff dangling from her wrist glistened in the moonlight. He reached for it, unlocking it with the key that dangled from his neck. She shifted slightly at his gentle touch.

"I love you," he said, putting out his smoke and snuggling into her. The scent of strawberries flooded his nostrils. He smiled, closed his eyes and was soon sleeping with the love of his life in his arms.