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Mask

My breath grows hot and moist against the hard surface pressed against my face. The sound of my breath echoes through the mask and bounces into my ears, only telling me more the anxiety that wells up within me. As my cheeks grow hot and red and my eyes water in the moisture, the rest of my body rings cool as the air of the room brushes over my skin. All around me there stand others wearing the same faceless expression. I make my way through the crowd, glancing to the shadow-covered eyes that stare at me. How did they see me? Were they disgusted, aroused? Their robes make it impossible to tell, yet my own body is on full display. Goosebumps ride along my flesh and my nipples perk up, constricting to points so sharp as to hurt. But I cannot touch myself. That is the rule here. Only the others may do that, and only when, and if, they find me to be acceptable. I go to lick my lips, but I taste the condensation on the inside of the mask. With another sigh, I send another blast of warmth across my face. The hair upon my forehead sticks to my skin as sweat drips down from my brow and over my eyes. The words and sounds from around me are muted, but a distant thud has me turn my head. I squeak as I see that faceless mask staring right back at me. The robed figure grabs me by my shoulders, letting his robe fall off of his body. I try to look down, but he grabs me by the hair, keeping me from turning my head low. I cannot see down beyond that face, with no expression, and only a slight grunt when he grabbed me. More hands grab me, pressing against my butt, lifting me up. I gasp and wrap my legs around his body. But as I do, the warmth of some pole presses between my cheeks, oiled up with lubricant to let it slide in. I close my eyes and let out another, final, hot breath as more hands grope and feel and pinch over my cold and sensitive flesh. I shouldn't be so tense, and even as I am penetrated, I start to realize that there is nothing to be worried about. These hungry animals all around me will use my body, they will fill me over and over again and force me to please them, but after it is all over, I will return home. I will still be me, and because of this mask, this wonderful, beautiful mask, I can still act as if I were a pure and good person.

Doctor

Alright then, take off your clothes. Oh, don't be silly. Of course you need to undress. Hm, I see, well, isn't that a lovely sight? You must take care of yourself. Well, a physical is all about making sure you're doing well, inside and out. Now then, let's check your head. Yes, yes, all checks out here. Oh, you cold? Ah, my hands are cold? Here, rub them. You'll help make them warm. Heh, thanks. Now, let's listen to your heart. Oh, I'm sorry. It's all so cold, isn't it? Here... let me blow onto it, haaah... Now, for your back. Give me nice, big breaths. Mm, hm... yes, how intriguing. There's a flutter in your breath. Are you nervous about something? What's this, a dilation in the eyes, goosebumps over your flesh? Ragged breath? Oh, my my... I'm afraid you have quite the predicament. There's just no immediate cure for what you have. You got yourself a case of lovestruck. Now, we can manage this with proper therapy, but you'll have to follow my directions right down to the letter. Now, now, I know you're worried, but I care for you, and I'll make sure you have a nice, happy life. So, to start, I'm going to prescribe you a regiment of hand-holding, followed by applications of physical stimulation. Yes, of course I'll help you with that. What kind of doctor would I be if I didn't take care of my patient. Now, these cases could go quick. You could be fine in a day or two. Maybe even a week, but I've seen cases of this that get advanced. You feel you are going to die if you don't get your treatment. We'll have to up the prescription to finishing each other's sentences and I'll have to move in just to make sure you're safe. WE might have to add more staff to your home, but that's fine, but even then, there's no guarantee that you'll be cured. Yes, I know, it sounds scary, but know this. Those who have this condition can lead long and fulfilling lives, but if you still have it by the time we're both old and gray, then, all I can really say is that you've contracted a terminal case of love sickness.

The worst part about that is, it's contagious, and you know what? I think I have it, too.

Knife

I drag the edge of the knife along the whet stone. The sound producing a melodic ringing as I thrust it away from me. My partner's eyes widen at the sight of the shining tool, this wonderful weapon, this beautiful instrument. The room around is is dark, save for the sun that gives the blade its luster. After all, I wouldn't want my guest to have other distractions. No, all there is now is the blade, and us. I press the flat of it against my partner's cheek, a smile spreading over my lips. "C... cold," my partner says. I sigh. "Yes, it's cold. It hasn't touched your flesh until now." I slide it along my partner's cheek and down over my partner's chin, the point poking against smooth skin. "Blades are meant to cut things, you know," I tease, twisting it, letting the tip gently prik the skin, reddening the area around it, but I pull back, my skill making no more than a mere scractch, less than a papercut. I drink in the sight of my partner, body quivering in a bound state. "You're dressed for the nines aren't you?" "You didn't tell me what to expect," "Touche," I admit, pointing down along the button-up shirt and poking at my partner's belt. "But this isn't new, is it?" "I decided to look good," my partner says. "Didn't say anything about the clothes being valuable." "How considerate," I say, chuckling as I slide the knife up under the bottom button. With a flick of my wrist, the little plastic pops off, clattering to the wood floor. I slide the blade up along my partner's body, feeling the skin underneath with the flat of the blade. It stops as it meets the resistence of their next button. Pop Another button is gone. This keeps going, up past the stomach, and up over the chest. Pop Now we are at the collar, and my partner stares straight at me. I do not look down. My eyes upon my partner's eyes. I turn the knife and pull Pop With a final clatter, the last button falls to the floor. The shirt lays open, chest bare beneath. "Just the one layer?" I asked, eagerly drinking up my partner's form. "Only for you," my partner says. It's not as cold, now." "No, it isn't<" I say, running my thumb along the side. "But we aren't over, yet..." "No, I suppose we aren't." My partner agrees. Right under the collar. I rest the blade there. "Now, for the finale," I whisper, biting my lip. I drag the blade across the flesh, reddening the skin as the finest, most expert slice slides along. The flesh peels free, revealing the crimson, trickling up to the surface, slowly making its way down the front like paint on a fine canvas. It is a crimson climax, one that matches our own at the sight--at the sensation!

Tears

Was it so wrong, the way I felt? My adventuring partner lay wounded and dying on the ground, the life fading from her eyes. Her sibling, that damn holier-than-thou knight, always the ray of sunshine, always the killjoy, sat there next to her, his gauntleted hands clasped upon her trembling fingers. The copper scent mixed with the electric atmosphere. The rumble of thunder forcasted the coming storm. Despite all this, my fascination on the armored ray of sunshine only increased. The knight's lips quivered. I've never seen them so much as waver from that big stupid grin, and they turn down in disbelief, anguish, fear. The knight would always have something to say. Always know the right thing, always turn our frowns upside down. But no words come. Not this time, perhaps, not ever again. The dying adventurer smiless up to him, the blood trickling down her mouth. She sighs, as if her whole spirit escaped from her mouth, her eyes go cold, her body goes limp. Her hand drops to the ground with a flash of lightning, and a clap of thunder punctuates the finality of the still corpse. With that final cymbal clash, the knight screams to the grayscale sky. THere are no curses. There are not vows for revenge. Bright blue eyes, always so clear in spotting the good in everything, now waver with the blur of liquid, and a once mighty fighter sobs, a voice that is a pillar of justice sucking in air and pushing out anguish all at once in a directionless, blubbering lament. The tears fall down, higlighting the high cheekbones and the sharp chin. Guantleted hands clasp onto the knight's hair, pulling at it as eyes stare at the corpse, but see nothing at all. The sobs, perhaps the final barrier in the knight's composure, break into the long and terrible wails of the damned. The knight's cheeks turn red, usually rosy from good ale spent with friends, but now red from the pure and total despair that floods their very soul. What was once a well-kept visage now oozes with snot that rolls down to frowning lips. A face was marred with the scar of tears, both dry and newly formed. And the rain started to trickle down, pattering over all of us, yet not hiding the pure sadness that crosses over the one mighty hero's form. I approached my companion; first, it is with a hand upon their shoulder, and then, it is with me pulling their body against mine. They embrace me, holding me in close, nuzzling against my form. This annoying bastard. This dumb, stupid goofball... who would have known that deep down, a real, beautiful, frail person lay underneath. And I must protect them.

Shotgun

When I entered the parlor of the mistress, I didn't know quite what to expect. After all, there's no way a powerful woman like her would want anything to do with me. And I wasn't exactly someone who would come to what my mother called a "den of vice." But, there I was, standing in the dimly lit room, vision hazy from the smoke that flitted about and danced, thanks to the fans blowing around. I didn't recognize the leaf she used. It wasn't like the tobacco of the swarthy sailors or like what my brother would have, but it was rather sweet. The scent alone took me back to my childhood--to candy stores and times where I didn't have to worry about my money. The mistress leans back on her divan, a hookah bubbling away on a nearby table. She holds the end of it with a grace of an expert and brings the pipe to her lips. Her bright eyes become brighter as she takes in the smoke, and brighter still when she puffs it out. Is she a woman, or is she a dragon? "You look lovely, dear," the mistress says. "The outfit looks good on you." I smile just a little bit. The blouse and skirt musch shorter than anything else I would want to wear, but as part of my service to the mistress, I have to wear it. "Come closer," the mistress says, her finger curling up, sending wisps toward her, beckoning me closer. I approach, and she grabs me by the hand. Before I know it, I am on the divan with her, the mistress's hand on my back as I lay upon her breast. "Now, then, you're much too tense," The mistress says. "Here... allow me to take a load off of your shoulders. She brings the pipe to her lips once more, taking a bubbling drag. She just kept sucking upon it, in one long breath that I didn't think anyone could muster. Those eyes of hers show her mischief as her cheeks puff with smoke and before I knew it, her lips were upon my own. Perhaps it was because I was a lonely virgin back then, or perhaps my mind was going soft with the scents. Maybe, though, I just was surprised by how forward she was, but I parted my lips. She sensed my awareness and through her pursed lips, she blew some of the smoke into my mouth. THe flavor caressed my tongue and took its home all inside, tickling at the bac of the throat. I opened my mouth wider, and she did the same, breathing into me a new life, a new excitement, and a whole new awareness. I wasn't thinking anymore, and instead I wrapped my arms around her, my tongue delving into her mouth now to get more of the sweet smoke. To breathe it in, to fill my lungs, to taste the flavor on her tongue with my own. And I have loved every moment of it since.

Bite

The predator runs its teeth along the flesh of my neck. I shudder at the feeling, unable to move with the bonds that hold me tight. THe predator chuckles, flicking its tongue over the skin just by my shoulder. "Very good," the predator says. "I can taste your worry. It's really nice. But it's okay. I won't hurt you, too badly." I gulp, trembling as my predator scrapes its sharp canines over my smooth skin. My body becomes more warm as I feel the blood rushing underneath. Its going to bruise, if nothing else. The predator wraps its lips around my flesh, taking my skin into its mouth, squeezing between its teeth. I gasp, arching my back, shaking under the feeling: the pleasure and the pain. My predator shudders, wrapping arms around my thin body. What it did on one side, it does for another. "You won't be able to go shoulderless for awhile," my predator teases. "In fact, you'll have to wear a turtleneck sweater. Everyone's going to wonder why you're doing that in the middle of June." I sigh, my body losing its tension as my predator gives me those rough kisses with its teeth. "You trust me now?" It asks. "How wonderful." It lifts up my arm and nips at my side, marking me as its property, as its prey. It continues biting down along my body, the warmth spreading throughout me with each contact, until soon, it gets to my thighs. It lifts up, taking a nice big chomp on the flesh, those red marks tattooing me with the mark. "There," The predator says. "Now, no one will want to claim you but me, and if they try..." My predator licks its lips with its overlylong tongue ,"Then I will give them a bigger bite!"

Praise

"Headpats for the good pet!" My mistress said as she touched me with her wonderful gloved hand. I couldn't help myself and squealed in delight as I heard her words and felt her caress. "Aren't you the cutest littl pet I ever had!" she said, caressing my cheeks and tilting my head up just so we can stare eye-to-eye. "I am so very proud of you. You did such a great job!" Tears well up in my eyes as I heard those words, a muffled "thank you, mistress," comes from between my lips. She giggles and leans in, kissing me right then and there. "Now, then, who wants hugs?" "I dooo!" I bark happily and wrap my arms around her warm and uncovered body. "Good pet!" She says, snuggling up against me, her soft breasts squshing up against my chest, nipples playing with each other as she scratches behind my ear. "Such a wonderful hugger. You really do turn the day around, you know that? "I'm happy for my mistress!" I meep back to her. "Of course you are, my dear," she cooed, placing a kiss upon my forehead. "And I'm so looking forward for what you can do for me next." "Oh mistress, you really want me to!?" I said, squeezing her harder.' "Oh, yes, of course!" she says, the excitement built up in both her voice and in her heartbeat. "Now, let me go and we can begin!" I did as she commanded, standing with my hands behind my back and bouncing on my toes. Mistress slinked on over to her bed and lay there, facing up. She spread her legs, her high boots shimmering in the light of the room and showed me the glistening sex between her legs. "Such a good boy," She said. "A great man, better than any in all the world. Now, show me how much of a man you can be! "Oh, yes, Mistress!" I chirp as I climb up on to her, my rod licking at the soaked sex. "I'll... I'll do my best!" I said, the nerves building up in me. What if I didn't please her?" She wrapped her legs around my body and pulled me in close, pressing the head harder against her, almsot pushing in. "I know you will. You are my best pet, and I want to feel you. You could never, ever disappoint me." "Oh, thank you so much, mistress!" I sighed, pushing my way in further. With a gasp, she showed me her love, and I slid down deep erinto her, wriggling and adjusting until soon, my whole shaft is deep within her. "Oooh, baby," she cooed once more, tracing a gloved hand over my naked chest. She flicked her finger over my chin and whispered. "Now, I want you to fuck me!" "Yes, Mistress!" I purr. She wrapped her arm around me, pulling me in close, and whispered into my ear. "Good boy. Very good boy."