Blonde woman kneeling with dress hitched up to reveal her bottom. Lesbian and bisexual supernatural sex story illustration

Goldilocks Bared

Fetish Stories, Gothic Fetish, Submission

Illustrated Supernatural Sex Story

This one is ideal. She has lived maybe two dozen years, young enough to be innocent of some things, but old enough to have had her desires awakened.

Pretty face framed by long blonde hair. Tall, long legs moving with grace, inviting curves pressing tantalizingly against the material of her clothes, stretching it like the skin of a not quite ripe fruit.
I love hunting in the summer.

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It was cooler in the wood and Sophie felt the anger and heat of Jason’s sudden departure dissipating. “Fucking bastard,” she muttered. She stopped, something was rustling in the bushes ahead making the leaves quiver.

A small Muntjac deer pushed its way onto the path and stood for a moment, its dark brown eyes sparkling in the dappled sunlight as it appeared to study her. Then it turned its head and disappeared into the bushes opposite.

Sophie walked to where the deer had stood and watched as it ambled down a track towards a house almost hidden between the trees. Strange, she thought, I’ve never noticed that before. She blinked, the deer had vanished.

Turning off the path she followed the deer trail. The house was covered in creepers and trees arched above it, enveloping it in their shadows, as if the wood was slowly reclaiming it. It did not look like a ruin but there was no sign that it was lived in. The front door was half open.

She pushed on the weathered wood of the door. Silently it swung fully open.

“Hello,” she called. “Anyone at home?”

The house was quiet. Gingerly she stepped over the threshold and for one fleeting moment felt like Goldilocks entering the three bear’s cottage.

The gloomy hallway smelt old and musty, a threadbare carpet ran down the centre between sombre wood-panelled walls punctuated by doors on either side, their varnish dulled and the brass knobs tarnished with age.

The door on her left swung silently open as soon as she turned the knob and revealed a pleasant living room. The sunlight that managed to penetrate the canopy overhead shone through a large bay window and dappled onto two comfortable looking easy chairs and a sofa. Everything in the room was neat and tidy but faded with age.

“Oh,” she whispered, realising the house was lived in.

Stepping back into the hall she turned to leave when there was a sound from behind the door on the other side of the hall. It sounded like the thump of someone falling and she thought she heard a muffled cry.

“Hello,” she called out, leaning towards the door. “Are you alright?”

The door squeaked as she cautiously pushed it open. The room was gloomy but looked like a study or library. Bookcases filled with dusty, ancient tomes lined the walls, more books and papers were piled on the floor and a large desk. Only the middle of the desk was clear and an amber shaded desk lamp cast a warm rectangle of light onto the burnished leather surface.

Sophie stood in the doorway listening intently. Everything was silent. “Hello,” she said, her voice quivering slightly, “Is anyone there?”

She stepped into the room. To her left was the dark shape of a sofa and beyond it, the dull glow from the desk lamp revealed a small table with a second, unlit lamp standing on it.

Worried that someone had fallen and she could not see them in the gloom she tiptoed across the room and fumbled for the switch on the lamp. It clicked on casting a warm circle of light onto the floor and sofa.

She looked around, there was no one in the room but something laid over the arm of the sofa sparkled in the light. Curious she picked up the nearest item. The string of pearls twinkled hypnotically as the light danced off the perfect spheres. She laid them gently back on the sofa and picked up what looked like a coil of rope. She held it closer to the light and gasped, it was a large black bullwhip. She dropped it as if it had stung her.

She bent down and scrabbled around on the floor until her fingers touched the braided rope. She picked it up, holding it like a snake about to wriggle and dropped it back on the seat.

I lean close to her and inhale her scent. I can feel anger in her, someone has betrayed her recently and now she desires revenge. But there is something else, I breathe in again, she is unfulfilled, she has a want, a need, mixed with curiosity that we can feed on.

She is a fine specimen, large breasts still firm with youth, swing unhindered beneath her simple garment, nipples pushing through the thin cloth. You stir inside me, push out my hands to touch the tantalizing spheres of her rump. I feel the coarse material covering them but you sense the flesh beneath.

“No,” I say, “We will take her by stealth, not force and then she will be ours.”

A draught played around Sophie’s shoulders raising goosebumps on her skin. She had a sense that someone was breathing on her and then she felt hands on her bottom. She spun around, there was a sound like a whisper but the room was empty.

She tipped her head listening. The touch had felt like a caress, hands sliding across the material of her jeans, but the house was silent.

Her fingertips touched the pearls feeling their smooth, glossy rounds. She shivered, it might not be a good idea to be found fingering what was obviously an expensive string of pearls in a stranger’s house.

Abruptly she turned to leave but knocked something from the table beside the sofa. Anxious not to leave any trace of her snooping she bent to pick up whatever had fallen. It was a circle of polished black leather. She held it closer to the light, there were silver metal rings set into the outer edge at regular intervals and two metal fastenings at the ends. It looked like a dog collar but it would have to be a sizable animal to fill the collar’s girth.

Without thinking, Sophie lifted her blonde hair and tried the collar around her neck. She had only meant to test its size but the two metal fastenings snapped shut. Frantically she tugged at the collar but no matter how she pulled she could not force the fastenings open.

This is stupid, she thought, starting to panic, surely this damn thing must come off, but the collar remained resolutely in place. She looked around the room vainly hoping that there might be something that might help her break free.

She stopped, draped over the far end of the sofa was an elegant black dress and a pair of black knickers. Curious that she had not noticed them before she leant forward and touched the silky material.

You seethe within me. Yes, I know, she has put on the collar, she is ours now, but be patient there is more we need to do to lure her into our realm. I let myself slip into her world, just enough so that she can hear me.

“Put them on,” I say.

She starts when she hears my voice. She stands, confused and I watch her looking around the room but, even though I am right next to her, she cannot see me.

“I’m sorry” she murmurs “Who’s there?”

“Put them on.” I allow you closer to the surface of my mind so my voice sounds deeper, stronger, more insistent and I decide to apply a little encouragement.

To Sophie’s horror, the collar began to slowly tighten around her neck, its grip becoming stronger until she is sure it will throttle the life from her. In panic she reached out and her hand grasped at the dress. As soon as she touched the silk the collar’s grip released. She was so surprised that she immediately grabbed at the collar again, which instantly caused the grip on her neck to be reapplied.

She picked up the dress again and the collar relaxed. Kicking off her shoes she looked at the empty room. “I’m going to need to put this down to undo my jeans.” She held up the dress not quite believing what she had just said. There was no reply.

Was she really going to strip in a stranger’s house and put on an evening dress? Her fingers touched the still loose collar around her neck.

Slowly she draped the dress over the arm of the sofa. She pulled at the button on her jeans until it popped open and slid down the zip. Slipping off her jeans she pulled her top over her head. She hesitated, her thumbs in the thin band of her knickers.

Yes, now we can see. Beautiful, plump, full of life, I let my fingers trace the wonderful soft skin that flows in sensuous curves down to the wide buds of her nipples. My mouth breathes on them, tensing the flesh, making it blossom.

You writhe inside me, you want to knead the flesh, to suck at those teats and drain new life force into us from them. Patience my dear, with patience we will have a producer of life for many years. I must restrain you from plundering her in a single feast.

The Iron Tongue of Midnight

BDSM taken to another dimension

A cool draught flows across the skin of Sophie’s breasts almost like a caress. Her nipples tense. She looks around her, the drapes hang motionless and there is no clue as to where the cool air came from.
Without thinking she moves her hands up until her fingertips brush against the tight buds, their touch arousing them, stimulating them to swell even further. The collar remains loose around her neck so whoever is watching her is not displeased by her actions.

She pauses, her fingers delicately tweaking her now pulsing nipples. The thought of someone watching her is quite a turn on. The voice she had heard had an air of authority, mature but not old and, she smiles to herself at the thought, quite sexy.

Maybe, with a little teasing, a bit of a show they might reveal themselves? She is young and fit, maybe she can overpower them, force them to unclip the collar and escape.

Ah, now she is starting to respond. I can smell her desire, it drifts through the room. I inhale deeply, raising my head as if savouring the bouquet of a fine wine. I feel your lust rising, but so is my desire. Soon we can both possess her. She is on the brink of submitting.

Her eyes closed Sophie lets one hand sensuously slide down over her flat stomach, like a serpent searching its lair until her fingers delve between her legs. She sits on the edge of the sofa and wriggles her virginal white panties down, dramatically flicking her foot so they spin across the room.

She spreads her legs and delicately parts the moistening lips of her sex, slowly she slides first one finger and then two between the velvet folds.

Her breathing becomes faster, her mouth open, she sucks in the air in little pants and gasps and she throws her head back as the familiar sensations of arousal begin sparking through her.

Her fingers slide out, wet and slippery they part her lips as they move upward, seeking the small bud pushing from beneath its hood. Excitedly she presses her fingers down, pinching and rubbing at it.

She is losing control, the energy of her building climax sparkles across her skin, I can see it in the air, like static electricity.

I can already feel its charge seeping into me. My breath plays on the creamy white skin of her thighs, my lips so close to hers as I watch her fingers working quicker now, pressing hard against the spot where all her nerves are packed into one small bud.

Her lips are gaping open, silvered with her scents. I set just your tongue free, it lances into her, swells and writhes seeking out her most sensitive spots as no human organ can. We are drinking in her nectar, her energy surging into us.

Sophie gasps, her mouth open wide as she arches her head back. Her fingers still press on her clit but her hips buck against the sensation of something swelling inside her.

Her muscles tense, forcing her entire body to rise from the sofa, arching between her feet and the back of her head. She holds her breath as her mind focuses completely on the sensation of her energy flooding through the nerves of her sex.

Time seems to stop until as if drained of all power her muscles relax and she flops back onto the seat. Her breathing spasms into life and as it begins to calm. She looks guiltily around her remembering where she is. She has no idea what possessed her to do that and the feeling that someone is watching creeps back into her mind.

“Put them on,” the voice is back and the collar tightens just enough to remind her what she should do.

Obediently she picks up the black knickers and as she slides them on is acutely aware that the wetness between her legs is dampening the material. Bringing herself to orgasm never seemed to totally satisfy her before but this time it was so intense that it seemed to have left her feeling even hornier, craving more.

Flustered she picks up the black dress and slips it on completing the outfit with a pair of black high-heeled shoes that she finds on the floor. Having done what had been commanded she waits in the middle of the room wondering what will happen next.

“You disobeyed me,” Sophie jumped as the disembodied voice spoke again.

“I thought you might enjoy it,” she shots back cheekily and without thinking.

Part of her is starting to fight now, that is good. She releases the most of her life force when she loses control in the heights of passion but we can also feed on her fear and her pain.

No, be patient, there is a seed of acquiescence in her mind which is growing, she has begun to feel sensations that are new to her and the desire for more is rising. When her submission comes, which it will, she will gladly become our subject.

“It is good that you try to please us but did you not enjoy the sensations that just welled up within you?”

“Us?” Sophie felt herself blush. “You mean there’s more than one of you?”

Hidden cameras. There must be hidden cameras and she had just given a show to a group of perverts online. She stares at the walls and starts to move around the room.

Sophie stops as she feels the constriction around her neck. Her shoulders sag, there are books and papers everywhere, she will never spot the cameras in this jumble. She brings her fingers up to touch the leather around her neck, this thing must have some sort of remote control.

I watch, her mind is in the modern world and she does not yet realise that she has stepped into our realm, a realm that was born when humans believed in us, knew we existed rather than seeing us just as mythical beings in their books and films.

I tighten the collar around her neck a little. “You must learn total obedience.”

“Total obedience,” she spits back angrily “To who?”

“To me.”

“To you,” she yells indignantly “ And just who the fuck are you?”

“Come, I will show you.” I open the door.

Part 2 Goldilocks Taken is available to subscribers on Simone

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