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Bottled Up

By: Decayed Angel



There should have been more, something else, a reason more compelling than, "I saw her bending over to pick up a bottle cap and I had to have her." Normal guys may think thoughts like that, but damn, they never act. Okay, maybe they idle over for a quick brush of a hand over the damp, silken fabric, an action that may get a face slapped, or bring on an angry response, but that's all.

Harry could have done that, sliding past her as her skirt hiked up and her panties, with the delectables barely covered, and accidentally brushing a hand over those private places. He could have simply watched for the brief peek of brief, maybe a hint of skin that every other man would have done, but Harry did more.

The first thing Harry did wrong was not turn away, the way he had been taught in counseling, no, Harry let his mind shift into that overdrive thing that always, always led to trouble. With his brain now functioning at incredible speeds, the woman's movements became slow motion, almost like on the videotape movies Harry watched.

The fringe of her skirt, slowly slid up her thighs, minutely catching and tugging on the light stubble remaining from her careless shave that morning. With each tug and release, more and more of her muscular thighs were exposed. The tanned skin seemed flawless, except for perhaps a blemish or two. Soon, as the woman reached to the ground, lace edged, white silk panties came into view.

Moving closer to her, Harry could see dampness staining the pure white, a spot running two, perhaps three inches long, maybe an inch wide. At the elastic edge of the panties a few dark hairs curled from beneath the fabric, as if inviting a passage, showing him the way.

Then she paused, seeming to hover, letting him ponder her message... white panties, a white flag of what? Purity? No, the protruding dark hairs were not signs of purity. No, this was the white of surrender and her pause in grabbing the bottle cap signified her complete surrender to him.

His cock grew now, from the tiny, inanimate wee-wee his mother used to tease him about, into the thick, fisted appendage that would accept this woman's surrender and then conquer her, the way Harry and yes, even the woman needed. A large bulge protruded from his shorts as he moved toward her.

When he grabbed her at the waist, it was so forceful that he knocked the breath out of her, so as he dragged her into the woods all she could do was gasp for air. While he carried her with one arm, he ran his heavily calloused free hand up the inside of her thighs and marveled at her softness. Tearing away her damp panties, he forced them into her mouth and listened to her snort as she tried to draw enough air through her nostrils.

It was easy from there, Harry shoved two rough fingers into her, opening her. He then opened his shorts and eased his appendage out, spitting on it for lubrication. With one hand firmly on her hip and the other holding her pussy lips open, he moved his cock to her, stopping just at the entry as he prepared and then thrust forward, impaling her, shoving himself to the hilt.

The woman had managed to pull the panties from her mouth, but was still too breathless to scream, instead she only whimpered as she gasped. She could feel her head spinning now as the edge of her vision went black. Thankfully the darkness closed in and she passed out.

Grunting as he came, he lifted her limp form off the ground with his final thrusts and then let her tumble onto the ground. The panties she had tossed aside made a good rag to clean off his cock, so Harry wiped the blood, cum and vaginal secretions from himself and then tossed it aside.

Walking back to the path, Harry noticed a bright light, almost as bright as the sun. He walked towards it, it seemed to call him, "Harry, Harry, you can wake up now." Fingers snapped and he found himself looking into the face of a woman... yes, that woman.

"Harry, can you hear me?"

"Yes Doctor Wyman, I hear you."

"Good Harry, good. I have great news for you. Doctor Hittnes and I agree, based upon our hypno-therapy session we can both recommend you be released."

"I answered your questions satisfactorily?"

"Perfectly," came a male voice.

"Harry, I need you to sign this release form for me and I can start the processing. It will be a few days, but we'll be letting you go out."

"That's wonderful Doctor Wyman... oops," Harry said, as the pen scooted across the floor.

Doctor Wyman moved over to the pen and as she bent to pick it up, her skirt pulled up her thigh, tugging against the nylon stocking. Harry focused intently on it all, catching the faintest glimpse of her black panties. He sat motionless as Doctor Wyman returned the pen to him.

"I so look forward to getting out, it's been such a long time," Harry said, signing the paper.

"Yes Harry it has, yes it has."

He smiled at Doctor Wyman while he committed the texture of her black panties to his memory, pondering exactly what she meant wearing black. He glanced at the window and felt his cock begin to harden. 

Bottled Water



Posh cafes, I can take them or leave them. Venues don't usually do it for me, I'm more into the clientele. So as I walked in, I was scanning the occupants, rather than the decor, looking more for someone to sit with, than for a comfortable corner. A quick look around, because it's best to know where you're headed before you set off. Be a hawk, and leave the fluttering to butterflies.

By a window there was a woman on her own, her hair a halo in the early evening backlight. 30's, blonde, slender, feminine business dress. Alone. Alone for a reason though? Maybe her posture, legs crossed and half turned towards the window, hinted that that was what she had chosen. Or did the outside light, shining on the pages, make it easier to read? She'd been there for at least a half wine glass, so plenty of time to have been approached. But she was alone, and eyes glued to the page, not returning my eye contact. But fortune favours the brave, I reminded myself, as I went over. Sauntering, I didn't want to arrive like the cavalry.

She didn't look up, so I had a moment to take things in. Despite the glass in her hand, a bottle of water on her table was not unusual, but the two others in her bag were. I'm like that, I notice things, and these piqued my curiosity. All three bottles lacked their labels, and were filled to the brim. With tap water, maybe?

In situations like this, you always need an ice breaker, and this seemed as good as any.

"Do you drink a lot of water then?"

She looked up, a quizzical expression on her face.

"I'm sorry...."

"Do you drink a lot of water then?"

"No more than anyone else, I imagine."

"You seem to have a lot with you, that's all."

"They're not for me. They're for the one I'm going to meet."

"You expecting him to be thirsty then?"

"Oh, I do hope not. But just in case, I have water for him."

She was enigmatic, but perfectly friendly. And attractive too, which was why I'd started this conversation, though I now felt I was getting out of my depth. Still, sink or swim.....

"May I sit here?"

"Be my guest." She had an enchanting smile. And I was still very curious about her water.

"I wouldn't be taking someone's seat?" I questioned. "Only before, you mentioned meeting somebody..."

"Oh, there's no date or anything. It's just in case I do meet someone." She paused. I waited. "I do seem to meet people often..."

Looking like she did, that didn't surprise me. "You've met me."

She smiled at this. "Yes, I have, haven't I?"

"But you haven't offered me any water."

"I don't know if I want to, yet."

"OK. While you're deciding, I'm going to get a drink. Would you like something? More wine, maybe? Or something different?

"A glass of white, would be lovely. Thankyou."

I returned with my beer, her wine, and an empty glass. Now it was her turn to ask questions.

"Who's that glass for?"

"Me, if or when you've decided I'm worthy of your water. It's not holy water or something is it?"

She laughed. "No, it's just tap water. But all water's good for you, isn't it?"

"It is indeed. My Dad always said, 'if you don't drink you'll die...'"

"He sounds a wise man."

"He was. Though he meant alcohol. He made his own, see, didn't want to see it wasted."

She opened her bottle and poured some into the empty glass. And more, filling it, right to the brim, till some slopped over the rim.

"Oh my, look what I've done. I've spilled some," she said, with a coquettish smirk. She held my eye, smiling, and I was now getting an idea of where this might be going. The idea of some spillage, with her, was quite arousing.

"Now drink it, and don't spill any!" she commanded.

Seems I was wrong about the spillage.

I'd already drunk most of my beer, though she'd hardly touched her wine.

"Another beer?"

"Sure, thanks. Though if I keep drinking this quickly I'll be running to the toilet every five...."

"Don't!" Her interruption was just a little too strident. She looked around, appearing a little flustered, then stared at the table. I knew I'd touched something, so continued pressing.

"What is it?" I asked, showing concern. "Something about your water?" I was wondering if my first impressions had mislead me.

"I'll get your drink. Wait there." I was going nowhere, I was now completely hooked.

She came back with two glasses, both full, neither holding wine. While she'd been away I'd finished my beer, but now had another two to get through.

"I've not had a lady try to get me drunk before", I quipped.

"Not drunk, just full. I'd like you to drink a lot, just a lot of liquid."

"I see. You're doing pretty well at that so far. What do you hope to get out of it?"

"Can't you guess?"

I thought. And thought some more. "I can't. Tell me." And hoping my puzzled expression was really showing that I wasn't bluffing. I really had no idea why she wanted me to drink so much, but not get drunk.

"I guess you've not done it before," she said. She made 'it' sound so enigmatic, especially in her cultured accent, spoken from her red lips.

"I guess not, whatever it is. But I'm intrigued now. So tell me."

Her expression was earnest, and I had the feeling that somehow I was now going to be put to the test. She took my hands in hers and asked, "What do you think about when you pee?"

I stared at her for a moment. And thought about my hands in hers. Her small & soft hands. That was very forward, wasn't it? I wasn't thinking so much about my answer, instead why she might be asking. "Just peeing, I guess. I don't think I've ever thought about what I was doing, when I was doing it. Except maybe sometimes relief. Y'know, when you're busting, and you've had to wait. That's a nice feeling, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Seems a terrible waste though, doesn't it?"

"What, the pee? I suppose so. hadn't thought about it like that. But what else can you do with it except pee it away?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, I can think of a use."

I waited. "You gonna tell me?"

She looked around furtively, but said nothing. Instead, she pulled her bag onto her lap & took out a pen. Then fumbled some more through it, and eventually took out a napkin. She wrote on it, shielding her words with her hand, then slipped it across the table, her hand still obscuring the words. Slowly she withdrew her hand, leaving the napkin in front of me. On it she'd written, 'I WANT TO DRINK YOUR PISS'. I read it again, forming the words silently with my lips. 'I want to drink your piss....'. Now that was a first, no-one had ever told me that before. But as I thought about it, thought about her doing that, an image came into my mind. Her on her knees before me, my cock in her mouth, her hand around it, me holding her head to it as my piss flowed out, into her mouth, she drinking it as quickly as she could, some of it running out of the corners of her mouth. Damn! That turned me on. I looked at her, across the table, and she looked back at me with an intense gaze. I felt like she was reading my mind.

I leaned forward, and told her, "Come closer, I want to say something." Our heads came closer. "Even closer", I said, and we both leaned forward until we were within whispering distance of each other. Her hair was fragrant.

Very slowly and quietly I said to her, "I want to piss in your mouth too. I do now, anyway, that's for sure. All I've drunk, I'm going to flood it, there'll be so much piss that you won't be able to keep up, it will run out of your mouth, down your chin & over your tits in a golden shower. And when I've emptied myself, I'm going to keep my cock in your mouth, I'm going to hold your head there and fuck your mouth, and you're going to suck me, until I give you your dessert. And if that runs out of your mouth too, even better. Is that what you had in mind?"

She turned her head towards mine, her lips & breath brushing my ear as she answered.

"Exactly!" she whispered. "Now finish your beer." 



Bottled Wine



This story was written before "Bloody Mary". Unlike that story I had to edit this one myself. A very difficult task, I didn't know what parts to take out and what to leave in. I hope that you enjoy the story and welcome you to read "Bloody Mary" when finished with this one. I love hearing your thoughts and opinions. Enjoy!

My eyes weighed heavily. My head burdened by it's weight. I came to the conclusion I must have fallen asleep. I always had trouble staying up while reading. I cursed myself lightly. Then a stray thought occurred to me, I was having dinner, as a guest. I tried to rub my eyes but my hands just wouldn't make it. I pulled and pulled until I realized my wrists were restrained. I tried to assess the situation. My legs seemed to be equally immobile. I could hear talking, but I couldn't make out the words. I tried to think back to dinner, but the thoughts wouldn't come. I drank, I knew that. I could still taste the residue in my mouth.

I needed to figure out what I could remember. I needed the facts. I was vertical, that information was easy. I felt my center mass directed towards my feet, like the down slope of a roller coaster ride. My eyes could detect flickering light even with my eyelids closed. I was cold too, in fact I was freezing. My teeth chattered. My head pounded. No, more like it throbbed. It wasn't an ache as much as a reminder that I was drunk. Or maybe not. I knew I didn't drink much. In fact I only had one drink, and I never finished it. It was strong, to strong. My understanding became clear, unlike my eyesight, I must have been drugged.

"Hello?" I said. Well, in my head that's what I thought I said. My ears were in disagreement. What they heard was slightly different than the sound a frog makes when crushed. I heard voices coming to me, but I couldn't comprehend them. Single words with no meaning, no essence. They just seemed to hang in the air, like they were repeating. Then a word hit me. I mean it literally hit me. The force of hearing it opened my eyes. "Wake..." over and over again. "Wake..." this time louder. My eyes felt like they were full of sleep sand. "Wake..." my vision was blurry. "Wake..." one last time and then there was silence. 

My eyes were free to stare around. Which was good, because my head seemed to want to stay where it was. The angle of my face was directed towards the ground. Close to a forty five degree angle. I tried to look straight down, a strong sensation crept across my neck. My air flow to my lungs began to wane. I relaxed and stopped trying to look down. I breathed deep. Turning my head as far as it could go, which wasn't far at all, I looked to my left. There was my hand lifted above my head, tied. The same was true for my other hand, and I had to believe my feet too. I couldn't look down for them.

I felt like I was placed in the shape of an X. My feet were behind my torso, ever so slightly. As slightly as my wrists were tied before it. I tried to speak again, but only heard the same frog noise. My eyes focused forward. There were two fires. Two rather large bonfires crackling to the sky. They roared as if thunder spread it's wings. It was beautiful how high they reached. This close I should have felt something. Some kind of heat. I didn't. Goose bumps covered my body, my shivering naked body. I saw how the light flickered over everything. It gave the surroundings a nice reddish glow. Everything that was, but her.

She was standing in between the monolith flames. Her hair was blonde. It's length reached down her back. Straight, long sensual hair. Her eyes were so demure. Her body was perfect. Her curves accented with the light fabric she wore. Gold was spread around her fingers, arms, and legs. Her face was beautifully highlighted by the makeup she wore, which was complimented even more with the flames. Her breasts were hidden carefully under the folds of silk that seemed to make up her outfit. They had the support of a young woman's supple soft flesh. The hint, or rather the hope of seeing them made me stir. Her skin was pure perfection, the light reflected a beautiful shade of bronze. 

Her body seemed to be that of a young woman. Her eyes though, they showed more. I could look in them and see a story. A story that showed the mighty Cleopatra worshipping her. They showed Helen of Troy sacrificing her virginity to her with the blunt end of a sword. He looked back even further and saw her worshipped when the pyramids were just an idea. Her body appeared to be sixteen, being never born. It was the same ever since she walked into existence. She looked sixteen, to keep her worshippers wanting her. Her eyes and her actual age, they were a lot older. No one could say how old. I stood staring at this woman who was ancient, Whose age was lost before the first written words arrived. She was a goddess in times when the Bible was new.

She began to dance. It wasn't a dance of celebration. It was one of ritual. The slight little movements were all precise. Exact minute waves of a hand, or the flow of an arm. Each twist, each turn, every single bodily function was done for a purpose. She stripped. Layer after layer of her silken scarves were removed. Each piece thrown to the wind. They were drawn towards the burning embers. The need of air sucked the light cloth in and ignited them. Each cloth that was taken off was followed by a piece of jewelry. The gold was placed at her feet. The ritual continued while she stared at me. No matter how many times she twirled around, her eyes were always locked on mine.

With each item taken off I became more and more aroused. Every fiber that burned, every gold that was placed on the ground, I became more and more excited. I was shivering, but now not as much. My blood was flowing, flowing with excitement. It mattered not that I was tied and bound on a cross like some sacrifice. It only mattered that she danced. I heard voices in the distance. I couldn't make out what was being said. Like the ropes binding me to the wood behind me, I didn't care. I was lost with each fling of her hair. With each step her muscles tightened and relaxed. It was magic, or something damn close.

My penis grew to a full erection. The blood pumped through creating a light throbbing, unlike the pounding that no longer racked my brain. She stepped closer and closer, each step an action. She was bare of cloth and the glittering gold she wore was almost completely gone. A few more steps brought her completely naked before me. She still danced. I tried to get a better look at her. Straining my neck to look down at her I felt the rope tighten around my neck. It didn't stop me, my sight continued to look down. My body was held fast, but my spirit seemed free to move.

It was almost like I was ready to leave my body, I was just waiting for her to complete her dance. I was still cold, but no longer freezing. Although my manhood was hard as a rock my legs were still filled with goose bumps. The voices that I couldn't make out faded away. They were replaced by a slight drumming noise. It wasn't loud but it was recurring. She was totally naked now. No strip of clothing or jewelry remained. Her hands flowed and her arms waved. My eyes lost track of hers, they were now concentrating on her hands. I knew she still looked at me. I blinked, which takes less than a moment, and when my eyes opened I saw it.

It wasn't large, but it wasn't small either. It's tip was shiny all the way down to the handle. The blade curved to a very sharp point. My eyes followed the silver flash as it twisted and turned in her had. My excitement mounted. My juices began to flow as it slipped from my body. It glistened down over the tip. Gravity pulling it down to the base until it was not enough to travel. I should have been screaming, I should have been sacred as all hell. I wasn't. I was excited. I was turned on. I was horny as anything.. 

I waited with baited breath wondering where she was going with this. Then to my utter fear, or was it delight that I felt, she slipped the tip of the sharp blade underneath my testicles. My left one to be exact. Cold sharp shivers traveled along my nervous system. My spirit was thrust back into and through my body continuing onto the ground, as the cold steel sliced it's way through my flesh. I laid there outside my body, as I saw the incision, a full inch, begin to bleed. Her mouth was drawn to the red essence that was now dripping down my inner thigh. Or rather would have if she wasn't so quick. She sucked on the open wound as a baby suckled on a mother's nipple. 

The drums continued to beat louder and louder, faster and faster. Each time she sucked a mouthful of blood I was lifted up. Each bit of my life's liquid she would drain pulled my spirit back into my body. The blood flow only went one way before it made it's way to escape. It traveled through my cock. It throbbed, it was like being teased by a girlfriend, just ten times worse. The pain, no the pleasure was unbearable. My cock bobbed steadily. It beat with the sounds of the drums. The two were in unison. I was so turned on, I was ready to cum. Although I couldn't see her I could picture her. I could picture her mouth placed under my meat in such a way that was erotic.

If vampires made them selves known to us, this is how I would like to lose my blood. Forget the whole neck thing. Each wave of pain was followed by immediate pleasure. My cock continued to pulsate. It pumped as if it were being touched by human hands. I could feel the blood slip out of my body. My balls started to constrict, I was about to release my excitement. I could feel the sperm begin to make it's journey. 

I couldn't believe I was about to cum. I was about to spread my seed all over her face. Even if I could speak I still wouldn't tell her. There was something so totally erotic about having the woman be totally unaware. The first drop of semen spilled up and straight back down, some slightly on her cheek. It didn't stop there. I kept cumming. It sprayed up the same as the first wave, and landed just the same, covering more of her face. The drums burst louder and louder. She withdrew from her feeding when I was done cumming. The blade shivered with the fire light. It appeared and disappeared with the twist of a wrist. 

Blood and semen covered her face. It was a mixture of what keeps one alive and what starts life at it's tiniest manifestation. Her eyes were still alive with passion and mystery. Her hair flowed behind her blowing in the absence of wind. Her arms raised with both hands wrapping themselves around the handle of the blade. What seemed like a war cry, she stepped forward in a rushed pace blade tip aimed at my chest. Cum and blood painting her breasts.

Everything seemed to slow. The blade was coming at me. The point making it's way towards my chest. My skin chilled over, or rather it felt like it froze over. Wind picked up giving no hint that it was even there. It felt like hours passed between the time it took for her to take a single step. The tip of the blade touched my chest. The pain shot through my body. My eyes closed instinctively. It was different from what I ever expected. I expected a sharp searing pain, what I felt was not that.

It was warm. In fact it was painfully hot. I opened my eyes to see what caused this searing heat. A knife was not in her hand as I thought. A candle flickered as my breath exhaled. The melted wax dripped on my bare chest. A smile wickedly placed on her face. Her eyes heated my body. Once again my blood flowed showing my excitement. I didn't understand this newfound longevity but I was ready for it, not matter what the duration. Each drop shocked me into a small but shallow exhale of air.

She kissed me. Her lips were still covered. The mixture of salt and copper left a sweet taste in my mouth. Her kisses went lower. Leading down my chest till she was once again between my legs. Pressure started to surround my scrotum. A small length of silk was being tied tightly. The blood was not allowed to return to the body. She wanted me to stay solid, to be erect. I was in heaven, absolute heaven. This woman knew how to entice me. How though? How did she know my secret desires when we just met?

Here I was bound, cut, and tied. Hopefully I would soon be gagged. As if on cue, she stood, ball gag in hand. She shoved the apparatus in my mouth and securely tied it behind my head. My cock twitched. My heart was fluttering. I didn't know what was to happen next. My mind created all sorts of imaginary fantasies. Some were age old ones, others were totally knew, being created right there on the spot. My thoughts raced. I wanted to cum on her again and never stop. I thought to myself "I must be dreaming"

"Keep thinking that if it makes you feel safe" she replied. My eyes widened in fear. How did she hear me? She looked into my eyes. Every hidden secret flowed to her, I was open. I couldn't stop the thoughts. I couldn't keep my secrets. "Remember Luv," she said without moving her lips "It's only a dream if I let you wake up." I watched as she disappeared from sight. She just faded out as a song would on a radio. I struggled to be free but it was useless. "Sweet Dreams" I heard before spending an eternity waiting for her return.