The Obsidian Embrace

Gray mists settle about his shoulders,
and he visibly shivers at the touch
of the smoke-like tendrils
tap, tap, tapping him softly,
seeking to be recognized for what it is,
his long lost friend, one he knows too well,
that all-consuming darkness
longing to wrap him completely
in its obsidian embrace.

He opens his mouth to speak
telling it to leave him be,
but the tendrils force themselves
into his mouth and down his throat.
Swallowing the darkness,
he can feel the parasitic nature
of its essence merging with his own
until the two have become one…
they are inseparable.

So, succumbing to the darkness,
he begins to withdraw inward.
His fortress of solitude is internal,
airtight, the castle walls built
by the meticulous hands of a master
intent on containing the beast
hidden in the dungeons of its core,
telling himself he is protecting
both himself and others.

He keeps pretty things on a fence
where they can catch a glimpse
of him from behind barred windows.
He’s nothing more than a dark form
offering an occasional glimpse,
his soul bared, open to them
whenever the drawbridge is down.
Only to find it shut tight
when attempting to enter.

He succumbs to the darkness within
allowing it to permeate his core
and surrenders to the obsidian embrace
that soothes the beast within him
like the sound of a sweet melody
sung just for him.
© AC Elliott

-Written sometime early 2018 and edited/posted on 9-May-18.



Your submission I must see
Knowing you belong to me
As I take you over my knee
Now count as I spank,

You’re craving your fix
Of pain and pleasure intermixed
Getting your forty licks
Now count as I spank,

In fate’s grand design
The stars were aligned
When you became mine
Now count as I spank,

Can I hear an amen
When I get to number ten
You lose count and then
Count as I spank,
As we begin again

©AC Elliott, 2015

Tickling Tongues of Blue

Flames rage, burning hot, tickling tongues of blue
Bodies caught in the heat of sinful desire
Sweat pouring out fast, soaking them through and through
Feeling the pain and pleasure of passion’s fire
They grip one another and grasping, hold tight
Fearing to let the other out of their sight
Though the desire may serve to drive them insane
Losing the other would bring about too much pain

©AC Elliott, 2014

*Written in Strambotto Romagnuolo poetry form

The Strip Club

It was late 1999, and I had just gotten divorced from my first wife. I was bored, so I took in one of the local strip clubs, hoping for a little entertainment on that ice cold night. It was an odd sensation, sitting there, watching the woman gyrating her hips on the stage. Why was it odd? After all, it wasn’t like I had never been to a strip club before.

In fact, I can remember going to clubs in Italy, where there was much more involved than just dancing. Places where the woman would put her foot on your knee, bring her pussy inches from your face, and let you watch while she used a toy on herself.

So, as for odd sensations, why was this time any different? That was easy. This time, I knew the woman on the stage personally. In fact, I knew her husband too. He was someone that I was stationed with, and was actually in my same squadron. That is what made the whole scenario odd. I knew that I could never look at his wife the same way again, not after tonight.

She had always been easy on the eyes, not a knock-out, but pretty just the same. One thing I always liked about her was that she was comfortable in her own skin. She was a little on the heavier side, thick, with large breasts and a big, round ass. But, she was comfortable with herself, and that is what mattered.

My eyes were riveted on her as she swayed across the stage. I’ll be the first to admit, I had often wondered what she looked like under those sweatshirts she always wore. In a flash, the bra that was barely containing her easily 38 or 40 DD breasts, was gone. I never had to wonder again after that, because I had an eye full.

She had me mesmerized, watching them sway back and forth as she danced on the stage. I was transfixed on her large areolas, and thick, erect nipples. So much so, that I almost failed to notice when she removed her thong…almost.

My eyes were drawn to her clean shaven mound, and when she got on her knees… I was done for. There she was, on all fours, giving myself and the other men in the room a view of her puffy lips, framed by her big ass. I knew then that I definitely wouldn’t be able to look at her the same way ever again.

After she had finished dancing, she made a bee line to the back room. A short while later, she reappeared wearing her thong and skimpy bra, and headed straight to my table.

“Hey,” she said, sitting down next to me.

“Hey, yourself,” I replied and laughed little.

“What brings you here?”

“Boredom, and an empty house,” I replied. “I’d ask you the same question, but, the answer is obvious.”

“Yeah, well…” she began. “I thought I would give it try. It was something I always wanted to do, but didn’t have the nerve to do it. Then, I needed to make some fast money and thought why not.”

“What does your husband think of it?” I asked her, knowing how much of an ass he was at work.

“He doesn’t like it,” she admitted. “But, he is away on temporary deployment. So, it wasn’t like he could stop me. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. There are a lot of creeps in here tonight, this was fun and all… but, I don’t see myself doing it again.”

“Sure,” I shrugged my shoulders. “What do you need?”

“Buy me a drink and a lap dance. That will take me to the end of my shift.”

Although, I probably would have bought a lap dance from her without her asking anyway, I certainly couldn’t turn down her request. So, I ponied up the money for a drink and a lap dance. We sat there drinking the drinks, making small talk, and then she pulled me into the private booth.

I assumed that she would just continue talking to me when we got in there. Knowing that she knew me personally, and was using this to keep from dancing with someone else. But, I was wrong, she gave me my money’s worth and it was worth every red cent too.

She gave me what was probably one of the best lap dances I had ever had, rubbing those glorious mounds over my face and grazing my lips with those hard nipples. Needless to say, it didn’t take long for me to get uncomfortable. By uncomfortable, I meant that I seriously needed to adjust myself, after all of her rubbing and grinding.

I was going to do just that too, adjust myself that is. But, she did it for me. I was shocked when she reached down into my pants and grabbed me with her bare hand.

“I’m not supposed to do this,” she admitted, wrapping her cool fingers around me. “But, you looked so uncomfortable, I thought I should lend you a hand.”

She straightened me up, gave me a few strokes for good measure, and then ran her thumb across the tip slowly. The sensation was unbelievable, having her hold me that way, looking into my eyes and rubbing my crown in slow, circular motions.

“Damn, you feel good,” she sighed. “Sometimes it sucks being married. You know?”

“Yep,” I replied. I probably could have said more, but, I was otherwise distracted at the time.

“Fuck,” she muttered, releasing my manhood and removing her hand from my pants.

She went back to her lap dance, but, it was different. After removing her hand from my pants, she set to grinding herself against me with a purpose. By the time she was done, she had me at the brink of cumming several times. At some point, she even placed her bare pussy lips mere inches from my face. I could smell her arousal permeating the room. It took all I had not to cross that line further and bury my face between her legs for a taste.

“Fuck…let me see it,” she said, after getting dressed.

“What?” I asked.

“Let me see it. I want to see what I am missing out on.”

I did as she asked, unzipping my pants and letting them fall to my knees. I think a part of me was still hopeful that she would change her mind, but, I wasn’t going to press it. So, I just stood there, bared and fully erect.

“Fuck,” she said, for the third time that night and then asked me to get dressed.

I saw her again several times after that, but, neither of us brought up that night at the club. Her husband had no idea that I had been there, and that is probably for the best. But, our relationship was never the same afterwards and there was a crackling of sexual tension whenever we were by ourselves. I still believe that if I had pursued her that night, she and I would have sealed the deal. But, I don’t have any regrets about the decision I made. At least I wasn’t at home, bored and in an empty house.

©AC Elliott (written in 2015)

The Psych Project (Short Fiction)

The first thing Sally noticed as she looked over syllabus for her psychology class was that a group project was to be completed. She absolutely hated group projects! What made this one even worse was the fact that it counted towards 25% of her grade. No matter how she felt about the project, there was no way she could afford not to go along with it.

Sally groaned inwardly when the professor began pulling names at random from a hat to assign partners. With her luck, she would end up with some boring, nerdy type. From the looks of things, when he drew her partner Michael, that is exactly what had happened. Glancing over at her new “partner”, he looked to be every bit of the type she was hoping NOT to be paired with. This was definitely not going to be an enjoyable class, or class project!

After the names had been drawn, the partners were able to spend a little time discussing their upcoming project. Sally watched as Michael pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose when he introduced himself to her. He seemed nice enough, so at least the project would be palatable at best. Clearing off a spot at the table, she motioned for him to have a seat, and the discussion began.

As they sat and discussed the various topics they could pursue for their joint project, she quickly became enamored with him. Despite his initial outward appearance, there was something that drew her to him. She didn’t know if it was his deep, soothing voice or the fact that he seemed so in control. Whatever it was, Sally found herself quickly agreeing to a joint project on submission. More importantly, how an independent, strong willed person could end up in a subordinate roll sexually.

That was how it began, and over the next 16 weeks they worked closely together studying the topic of dominance and submission. Over the course of time, he began asking her in his deep soothing voice to do things for him. When she did them right he was pleased, and when she did them wrong he was disappointed. He never used an unkind word, didn’t get angry in any way, but still the disappointment was obvious.

Before long, the soft requests slowly began turning into soft demands upon her. Sally found herself wanting nothing more than to please him. She wanted to make him happy and it was his approval that she desired above all else. It was amazing how much had changed over the last 16 weeks, and exactly what she was willing to do for him.

As Sally lay back on the window ledge, pulling her panties off in a public place, realization struck… she was the subject of their joint project…

©AC Elliott, 2015