Write What Scares You

He writes what scares him, even if it doesn’t make sense, even if the ideas are stitched together to make a surreal pattern that leads to places he’s not sure he wants to go.

People, settings and voices come to him from the dark, ancient and feral and wanting, taking shape in the dark.

He writes and it scares him, the detail that comes – the way the man with his weight upon the woman, the unsuspecting victim as her blouse is torn to shreds, the words that come on their own – ‘as her blouse tears open, her breasts spill out’. Spill out. Vulgar. Crass. Rough. Unrefined. Intoxicating.

He can hear her yelps, inhuman, animalistic – as she’s stripped down to her cotton navy blue panties, he already knows this is the first time anyone has seen her naked in five years before They do.

It scares him, what he writes. How fully formed the thought is, how vivid and how vile – how he can see her pale legs kicking in the air, how he can smell her perfume laced with swear, how he would never wish this upon her, she who just came into his world.

What scares him only compels him, his hand unwavering from the page, viciously, spitefully, inflicting the rape of this blonde’s body and mind and feeding off of her sweat, cries while pushing her limits.

And why? Why violate her? Why take her ass, just to hear her voice crack and strain as He, with no regard at all, tears her anus. Why cause her pain and anguish? Why fill her mind with doubt, as pain turns to pleasure, as her body betrays her savagely, leading to her orgasm.

There is pain and anguish, yes, but there is something else. Beauty and Power, Raw and unprocessed.

He’s scared of himself in the end, the part that wanted it, desperately, savagely, his mouth watering for the taste of her. Her, the woman lying naked and breathless on the floor of the subway corridor.

————————-

Don’t be ashamed of your rape fantasies. Explore what they mean to you. Have a think about the particular details of your fantasy and why it appeals to you.

Fantasies are simply that – fantasies. They’re not a reflection of your morals as a human being. They’re there for you to safely explore the darker impulses of the human mind – YOUR darker impulses.

Should you wish to take that fantasy to the next level, remember that any BDSM scene or setting should be discussed thoroughly before hand, and with safety measures in place to ensue that exploration is healthy and safe.

Try writing it down, capturing it onto the page so you can look back and know.

If you are troubled by a particularly savage thought, I’m always an email away, regardless of time zone. I rarely sleep.

How Can You Tell If You’re Dominant Or Submissive?

Ladies and gents, I’m kinda stumped.

Early in the week, I was talking to a lady about how to implement kink into her marriage with her husband, when she ran a question by me – How do you know if you’re Dominant?

I answered that question best I could in the moment, running my own experiences with identifying the feeling by her, hoping it would connect somehow. But now, days later, I’m still thinking it over. I don’t really know HOW. It all seems so organic looking back.

I have also recently had someone ask me If they’re still fully submissive if they enjoy being bratty – there’s a lot of misunderstanding about the persona and how it applies to the individual.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of confused and alone people out there with a laundry list of questions and no one to ask. I’m more than happy to answer anything anyone has to ask, be you male, female, teenager, adult, new to the lifestyle or in the middle of a transformation or even someone with an inkling of kinkling.

Anyway, I thought I would try to the answer the question at length, hoping newcomers to BDSM might relate and it can help them in their own journey.

In the beginning, I had these feelings that I had understanding of. I didn’t know I could file my name calling under ‘Degradation and Humiliation’ nor did I understand why I was so interested in control – in exercising authority over my girlfriend. In these stages, there was no real sense of D/s and aftercare because I was immature and these feelings were immature and coarse and unrefined.

Before I continue, let me just write that there’s no absolute way for one person. Everyone is different and works differently.

I should say that my own development has come with a certain degree of blind luck. I met certain people at the right time in my life, people like me, through Fetlife or the semi-sketchy anonymous confessional app Whisper. I was a lucky bastard. I had the blessing of shaping who I was through encounters along my twenties.

Fetlife was a big player in my path, I would say. By signing up and looking around, I could see I wasn’t alone. I could even put a name to my kinks and thus have some semblance of understanding.

Google helped too, in a way, acting as a gateway to all sorts of media – books, images, blogs, people, Kink. Suddenly I knew of words like ‘Dominance’ and ‘submission’ and ‘dynamic’. Combine this with Fetlife and I had opportunities to feel the gravitational force to someone who was submissive. I’m talking, heart racing, cock hardening, breath quickening gravitational forces that helped me realise something was within me.

I know what you’re wondering. ‘Okay, but how does someone know if they’re dominant? Or even submissive?’

The best advice I can give is that it starts with an idea. Have a google of key concepts that come to mind when you think of BDSM – blindfolding, handcuffs, dirty talk. Start small. See if something strikes up your fancy.

If you want to reach deeper, have a look at concepts within a D/s relationship, such as setting tasks and rules and maintaining order. See if any of these concepts appeal to you on a base level. Try not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information – there can be a lot to learn but you can easily break it up into easily digestible parts.

Start small. Start light. A bit of spanking, a bit of issuing commands – talk to your partner about what they would like to try and see if it strikes a chord with you on any level.

The last advice I can give is to be open to yourself and to your partner. That goes for likes and dislikes and even if you’re uninterested. But always be open to trying at least. You never know what you’ll find on the road less travelled.

30 Days of Kink – Day #2: List Your Kinks!

Describes what it is about being Dominant or submissive that excites and arouses you the most.

Here’s the thing – I wrote a list of links but it felt very cold and disconnected and by-the-numbers. I guess that was unavoidable though because lists are lists right? That’s how they go.

Anyway. My kinks are varied. I like a lot of psychological acts like sensory deprivation and orgasm denial – acts to really bring a mind to its darkest corners. Of course that crosses into the boundaries of Consensual Non Consent, wherein lies some nipple and breast play-torture. I do love to bite, slap, smack, suckle, stretch, pinch, squeeze and pull.

As a primal I am into exhibitionism, pet play and voyeurism. I guess cages and collars and leashes can be added in this category, as I love to lead a good kitten, bathe her when she’s dirty, feed her when she’s hungry.

There’s a sadistic side to me that likes to indulge in face slapping, hair pulling, degrading physically and verbally, spitting and flogging. There’s something liberating about tapping into that mindset. It’s almost a feral energy. If that makes any sense to either the dominant readers or submissive ones.

As to what excites me the most about being dominant, that kind of ties into yesterday’s entry — I like the psychological aspects behind it. That is to say, sharing this untethered connection with someone and peeking behind the curtain into their mind. I like knowing how people behave and why they behave that way behind closed doors. I like sharing that rawness with people.

But there’s other things right? The spiritual ever-in-need-of-balancing urge to dominate. I need that certain dynamic and I can’t really explain why it’s so important or how, only that if I can’t have that, it’s imbalanced and I’m moody and it’s just a spectacular human mess, right?

On top of all that messy qualities, there’s an interest in that edge of sexuality. A calling to, what I perceive to be, darkness. An interest in tapping into that animalistic and brutal and unfiltered vein and seeing how deep the rabbit hole is. A way to experience an edge, danger, in a safe and controlled environment, either by myself through text or with another being.

Surrender

He was completely out of his element, a Dominant on his back, nude with his hands linked above his head.

Everything in his burning hot body told him to run, to get out of there and never look back, but something intrigued him to come, to undress before this Dominant.

For years he had looked at women, had desired them with all the fire provided by Hades. So when he looked at the completely shaven cock of the Dominant before him, stiff and throbbing at the edge of the bed, he wondered where this had come from, this aching, this hunger?

He didn’t just look at this Cock and desire it, though his mouth had watered curiously, no – he thought it Beautiful, was puzzled by its beauty to him. He didn’t just want to put his mouth over it, he wanted to savour the taste. To feel the veins in its shaft ache on his lips, on his tongue. And what did come taste like?

He felt new and stupid, lying here.

‘Get over here’ he wanted to say. ‘I want this right now’

But that was what he gave up tonight, just to try. And something about it felt wild in a way that quickened his heart.

The man before him, slightly slim, slightly muscular, regarded him with a cruelty, a sadistic smile. No, a smirk. Teasing. He lowered himself over him, letting his cock brush his own.

Down came his mouth, planting a kiss on his thigh, then lower across to the base of his cock. Tingles. Things he never felt before.

He surrendered to this fear, this change within him. Tonight he wasn’t going backwards. Not anymore.

If Life Were A Slasher Film, You’d Be My Victim


Violated.

Sometimes we think we understand words. You know – understand their full meaning in so many different ways. But sometimes an experience comes along that redefines that feeling – that word. And from that point in time onwards, you live your life with the updated knowledge that this is love, that this is heartbreak. That you knew Violation when your husband tried it out on you while the kids were away, while you both still felt human. 

But I promise you, if I catch you in my woods. If I find you’re skinny dipping in my Lake or getting high in the cabins, I will do you the honours of taking the word violated and redefine it when I back you into a corner.

When your mascara runs, when your body trembles and your breasts sway with the panic — when I coil my hands around your thin loose top that classifies as an item of clothing and tear it off, you will come to understand what it means to be violated.

When your body is pinned under mine, and you can smell the sweat I’ve worked up stalking you, watching you and the rest of those friends of yours — when my hand finds the slit of your cunt, roughly divides its folds eagerly with my fingers and your body betrays you with its act of preparing you for the act, you will come to understand what it means to be violated. 

When my other hand finds your nipple, your sweet puffy nipples, and pulls outwardly with all of my might – when you feel as if you can’t take the pain anymore, you will come to understand what it means to be violated.

And at the moment your mind snaps, when the madness washes over you, when your body breaks beneath my coarse caress, you will come to redefine what it means to be violated. 

Because no matter what anyone does to you in the comfort of your bedroom or little fucking play scene you have set out for each other. No matter if he takes you while you swim in the warm inviting lake.

What I can do, in the darkness, with your mind, while you’re alone and staring at your reflection in the full length mirror in the cabin bedrooms will be so much worse.

Behave. 

Hera, Ch. 4

Chapter Four

 

Breaking The Girl

 

tumblr_lx5puwF4V11qevaq6o1_500.jpg

Kadie gasped for air.
She could still feel the cable wiggling in her ass, though in reality it had been long removed.
Kadie looked around – it was pitch black.
That’s when she felt the collar around her neck. It was cool and she could feel the leather dig against her neck when she swallowed.
Suddenly doors opened to her left and in whizzed the Med Drone over to her.
Good evening, specimen.
Kadie went to speak, choked and coughed. She tried again.
“Where…am…”
Same place. Time for your mantra. Something I’ve been working on specifically just for you.
Repeat after me:

 I am a slave.

My mind and body belong to my Mistress.

 Kadie just stared at the Med Drone angrily, unable to control her breathing.
“Mistress? You think you can adequately be a Mistress? You’re a machine. You could never be-“
The logs of Captain Fuller dictate to me that she was indeed partial to becoming what humans call Mistress. As the nature of becoming Mistress intrigues me, I will endeavour to learn. As Captain Fuller refused to teach me the laws of Bondage, Dominance, Sadomasochism and Masochism I will learn on my own accord.
“Fuck you” Kadie barked.
The Med Drone looked at her a moment, as if thinking.
Then a tube hovered from the ceiling down to Kadie’s stomach.
Very well.

The tube was a high-pressure water hose and it shot out at Kadie in full force, stinging her stomach, tits and legs in the spray.
Unclean little girl.
The jet stream moved down, trailing the pressure from Kadie’s stomach down to her clit. It was immense and hard against her tender skin.
Kadie screamed against the full force as the jet stream hit her cunt, pain exploding across her body.
The assault continued, numbing her slit and thighs.
Kadie screamed and screamed until she was hoarse, barely able to get anything out.
She could feel the orgasm rising in her. It made her furious. She tried to squeeze her legs shut but now they trembled; now they burnt. She was on fire. She was furious and on fire.
She was coming and furious and on fire.
It hit her hard, knocking her backwards.
A scream tore out through her throat, burning her insides.
The hose kept hitting her on her clit but she was frozen, clenching her eyes shut as if that would help with the pain of the pressure. It didn’t.
The hose shut off.
Tsk Tsk, little girl.
The light in the room went out.

She couldn’t tell the time anymore. Days were indistinguishable. Everything was dark until it wasn’t, when the med drone came in from her left to feed her meals, the light seeping in from the outside.
When Hera

(Sister’s)

Voice came over the comms, specifying her mantra, Kadie screamed. Some days she swore. Other days she cried. Every day ended in the same way, the hose bringing her to the edge of orgasm before Hera

(Sister)

was pleased and they disappeared.
Every morning it was the hose on her clit, ever evening it was machinery cables, filling her ass and cunt. Every day her orgasm was denied.
How many times a day they made her edge, she wasn’t sure.
Kadie was reduced to that of an animal. Grunting, screaming till her throat felt like bleeding.
After some time, her cunt, which was far too tender and sensitive, quivered and Kadie found comfort in the orgasm that felt like it tore her body apart.
Sister

(Hera)

didn’t like that though. She was punished with the cables whipping her ass and breasts.
When was the last time she had slept? Kadie didn’t know.
She wondered this as the med drone whizzed in and the lights flickered on.
Kadie lunged for it but was still being suspended.
Let’s begin came Sister

(Hera’s)

Voice.

I am a slave.

My mind and body belong to my Mistress.

 

 

Kadie didn’t say anything – and the silence was deafening.
Suddenly she felt herself being rotated. The cables that held her in place turned her around so that Kadie’s ass was facing the med drone, with Kadie facing the wall.
I’ve monitored the crew to test how long they can endure pain. Kadie, so far you’ve exceeded my expectations. They have not.
Kadie screamed at the wall, struggling in the air.

Sister

(Hera?)

was silent.
Very well.
A cable struck Kadie’s ass. Pain shot up her back. She let out a howl.
Again.
The cable struck again.
And again.
Both cheeks were turned raw red. Her left side even felt like it drew blood.
Kadie whimpered as she hung in the air, jolting every second while the cable struck her ass.
When the lights went out and the cable’s retreated, Kadie let out a sob. The cable’s holding her, lowered her to the floor, where another pair of cables chained her to the ground.
The cool metal floor of the room was a welcomed relief to her ass and she let out a sigh.

Here she was, alone again. No way of telling the time, body stinging and frustrating of all, her cunt with that dull maddening ache she can’t scratch on her own accord.
That’s when the room lit up and Kadie could hear the whir of machinery.
The doors to the room opened and Bronwyn stepped inside, a metal collar around her neck. She was completely nude and calmly walked towards Kadie.
“Bronwyn?” Kadie hoarsely asked.
Bronwyn didn’t say anything. She came to a stop just before Kadie’s mouth, her shaven cunt hovering before her.

Her face was flat, empty. Nothing was there. Nothing readable.
Bronwyn closed her eyes and started to tug on her pierced nipple.
“Bronwyn, what’s happened to you?”
Bronwyn didn’t open her eyes. She reached down her body and started running a finger down her slit.
Kadie’s eyes followed down to see Bronwyn’s fingers slick with her arousal. Her instinct was to look away.
“S-sister, stop this.”
The cables lifted Kadie on her knees so that her mouth was inches away from Bronwyn’s hands working her clit.
She looked up at Bronwyn and pleaded with her to stop, but Bronwyn moved to music Kadie couldn’t hear.
“What has she done to you?”
At that, Bronwyn’s eyes opened and she looked down to Kadie.
“She hasn’t done anything to doll. Doll wants to be the instrument. But doll knows who She favours. It’s Kadie.”
“Me?”
“Kadie has the mind She favours, the body She delights. One day doll asked after Kadie, but She just got mad.”
Bronwyn turned her back to Kadie, revealing her ass, slick with sweat and covered in scars.
A spike struck Kadie, moved through her whole body. Something warm and anxiety inducing and oh so powerful. She was drawn back by her sudden racing thoughts.
The spike was a single thought: that she wanted to taste the sweat from Bronwyn’s ass.
What would it taste like? Sickly sweet? Salty?
She reeled at the concept and tried to move backwards but nothing worked. She was held in place by those damned cables.
“Doll got what she wants though. To be an instrument.”
Bronwyn moved back to face her, her body stiffening, her hands working furiously.
She moaned, bucking her hips forward. She started to tremble and her hair fell over her eyes.
“Bronwyn, please –“

Fluid smacked Kadie across her face, warm and salty.
Kadie gasped in shock, reeling from the sensation.
Bronwyn spoke in a quivering voice as she squirted across Kadie’s face.
“Doll is an instrument. Doll comes on command.”
Bronwyn’s juices ran down Kadie’s lips and another spike hit her across the face
Tasteittasteittasteittasteittasteittasteittasteit.

She resisted, spitting to the floor.
Bronwyn gasped and struck her face hard, leaving her left side stinging.
“Taste me” Bronwyn howled, demonic.
She grabbed Kadie by the throat and slid her index finger down her throat.
Kadie could taste Bronwyn and God help her, she tasted good.
That that was the first thing that came to her mind – the first thing – caused her to panic. She leant forward, scrambling on the spot.
Bronwyn just giggled and ran a thumb across Kadie’s nipples. “She’s got you, little lamb. My! How she does!”
Bronwyn then leant her head back and spat right in Kadie’s face.
It hit her right in the eye and ran down her cheeks.
Kadie couldn’t help but sob. It coiled up her throat and out her mouth, echoing across the room.

Bronwyn then leant in, right to Kadie’s ear and whispered very quietly.
“Don’t talk, listen. Look to the door at noon. I’m getting out of here. I can’t find the rest of the crew. Come with me.”
“I can’t, look at me!”
“I’ll distract her. You just make sure you get out. I’ve got a plan. We’re getting out on the lifeboats.”
Bronwyn moved away before Kadie could respond.
“Doll is pleased to have shown you who you belong to.” She spoke loudly.

With that, and still trembling, Bronwyn left, and the lights to the captain’s quarters went out.
Kadie was lifted up by the cables, aroused, confused and anxious. Her mind was with the rest of the crew. Where were they?
A thought entered her mind then: If Bronwyn wasn’t controlled after all, why did she still come across Kadie’s face? Was it just an act or was she driven by pleasure.
The doors to the captain’s quarters opened and the med drone appeared.
Time for a lesson came Sister’s

(Hera’s?)

voice.
Kadie prepared to be assaulted for the evening, her cunt left drenched and in a spasm as she denied yet another orgasm all night.
She just had to wait till noon the next day.

 

To be continued…

Sand


One minute, she was enjoying the feel of the sun on her body, the smell of the ocean around her and the warm sand beneath her feet.

When it happened, it happened all too fast for her to process. For, in a flash, she was pinned to the earth, her mouth full of grit and sand.

Her sides was gripped firmly, both left and right burning where the stranger’s hands clasped her flesh. 

It was then she tried to yell out, but the sand in her mouth forced her to gag. She coughed and sputtered as she felt hands tug aggressively at her bikini bottoms.
A second passed — then her bottoms fell away, exposing her bare body to the cool Spring breeze. 

She fidgeted, even squealed, but it was no matter – she hung suspended in the air, her ass pointing up, her hair flung over her eyes. 

She squealed again when she heard it, a smooth and relaxed voice in her ear, breath smelling of sea salt.

“How delightful and grand! To unwrap your gifts covered in sand”

‘Sand’ slithered out across the lips of the stranger and down her body, like finger tips trailing down piano keys.

The hands were back, tugging at the sheer black material that covered her breasts. A second passed — and they were free. Left to hang in the air.

To her horror, they tickled at the sheer touch of the breeze. She felt her nipples harden. And pushed back into the force of the stranger.

His weight was against her, seemingly all around.

“Good enough to eat, this sweet sticky treat” came the voice again, sprouting words that travelled down her spine.

A finger caressed her slit, touching what she had left unshaven. The thought embarrassed her strangely. She was not expecting company, had let herself grow out.
She disappeared into her anxious dream while fingers spread her lips and found her clit.

They worked her then and there and she was helpless, held still by the stranger. 

Her body betrayed her, and she slipped back into a dream…
There was a time, not so long ago. That she sat by the window of her bedroom, the window that looked out upon the beach from her parents beach home. 

And she wondered, so strongly, to the point that when she awoke from these dreams, she felt like she had been gone an age.

When her parents were working and Georgina had come home from attending her final year of school, she used to undress and sit about the house. Sometimes she’d read, other times she’d play guitar. Sometimes she’d sit by the window in her bedroom and masturbate, thinking of how one might pass by on the beach outside and see her Cunt. What if she stepped outside, what if they kidnapped her and took hold of her? 

What if she stepped outside, they kidnapped her and took hold of her and violated every inch of her cunt?

Georgina used to sit and wonder and come, allowing herself to be loudly. On the hopes someone heard.
Georgina thought all this and more as she was bent in the air, her tits exposed and covered in sand, her slit being massaged ever so delicately. 
Horror pulsated through her bones and yet it was followed by the afterthought of a tingle. Her daydream was back, coming true, was assaulting her with its strong scent of sea salt.

A hand, rough and strong, lifted her up high that her eyes were blinded by the sunset. And after a moments pause, it wiped her tits clean, revealing them for how they truly are.
“We come from far beyond the sea, a place where you should be”

His hands twisted her nipples and she coughed out a groan, her mouth still tasting of sand and seaweed. 

By the hair, the stranger dragged her out to where the ocean waves die down.
“What are you doing?” Barked Georgina, able to take the time to talk while the sand is far from her mouth. 

“Hold still, you little sight obscene, it is our duty to make you clean”

Georgina’s world went murky as she was submerged under. She could taste the water, it burned her mouth. She choked.

Then she came up for air, her ass still in the air, her body bring cradled by the stranger. 

In front of her, she could see the waves.

They crashed into her face. Again. And again, an onslaught of tangy waves. 

When she came above the waves, she realised the stranger’s palm was massaging her cunt, stretching her lips apart while its finger flicked her clit. 

“It is we who haunts, it is you who wants. It is we who fill, it is you who wills”

“What are you talking about?” Cried Georgina.

And when she was fifteen, she sat on the beach, her parents attending to the party up above. 
The hour was two in the morning, early. And the beach was abandoned. 

When Georgina was younger, she remembers sitting around the dinner table and hearing her aunt Emily talk about a time she had sex on the beach with an old flame, how the sand rode up her ass and stung her. 

Remembering this, Georgina pulled her panties down her dress and laid on her back. 

There was something erotic about the feel of the sand beneath her. And later, there was something about the stinging, the rawness of her skin, that drove her to wildly masturbate through the pain.

Georgina was bent down on all fours, her ass facing the onslaught of waves. They crashed around her, over her, stinging her ass and breaching her anus. 
At the very touch of this, her cunt contracted, and she wailed. 

The stranger held her by the hair, it’s clammy hands stroking her back.

“As you have dared, now you’re prepared” The voice seemed to echo all around her, reverberating within her head. 

When she felt something cool and thick slide inside her, she let out a Yowl that reminded her, in that moment, of her old distressed cat, that used to claw at the door when she wanted to go out. What had she become? 
The cool and thick thing filled her, stretching her cunt apart in ways she has never felt with any past lover.

Georgina stayed on all fours, looking, with her soaked and freezing face, up at her parents beach house where she was visiting for the weekend.
She went to speak but all that came out was a whimper. 

The cool and thick thing seemed to bring with it the cool, it slid up her body, enveloping her in the cool ocean water.

“Dad…” She croaked. “Mum..”

With the burning sensation of sand, Georgina felt the cool and thick thing reach its fill, coming to slap against her ass. She choked, feeling dizzy, feeling something build, feeling sick and horny and repulsed at the same time somehow. 

Her legs gave away and she collapsed into the ground, tearing her cunt free from whatever was inside her, wriggling and moving. 
Sand tore up around her thighs, covered her breasts again, as she panted laying on her stomach. 

When the voice spoke again, she felt it’s warm breath against her ass.
“There is nothing to fear, we have always been here”

The stranger lowered its mouth down upon her anus and Georgina kicked wildly, screaming. Nothing has probed her there, nothing bothered, no man or woman. 

Georgina never bothered to ask and here she was, paralysed by the slither of the stranger’s tongue. It circled around her edges, and hands forcefully spread her apart so the tongue could have a better taste. 

Georgina’s legs seemed to jerk up in response, locking into a pose. She croaked for her mother but nothing came out but a squeak.
It hit her as the waves came crashing over her, her orgasm came ripping out of her, forcing her to cry out in short guttural bursts, one after the other. She jolted once more, crying as her body was contorted past her level of comfort, as her orgasm subsided, dragging her into the ground. 

Georgina, in a daze, face planted into the ground, her body left to twitch to the stranger’s wet cold kiss. 

A moment passed.
Then another.
The waves came crashing over her, up under her cunt, which begged Georgina to touch.
Georgina rolled on her back and started to sob. 

When she heard the voice again, it was all around her. And as it spoke, it disappeared into the crashing of the waves. 

“There is nothing to fear, we will always be near. ”

Georgina sobbed as she sat inches before the surf, rubbing her unshaven mound furiously. She needed to come again. She had to. She couldn’t stop her hands, couldn’t keep them away from her nipples and clit. 

Sand stung her lips and brought her over the edge.