my fetish diary is filled with perverted themes, kinky fantasies, BDSM, sexy fetish fashions, skin-tight latex, rope bondage, cuffs, living dolls, corsets, leather, Mistresses, slaves, electrical play, medical scenes, Shibari style bondage, high heels, videos, scenes from real play parties, photos taken at fetish events...

The Price of Desire by Toby Beeny

The man pushed open the door with his cubby little fingers and made his way down the hallway. It was dark, and he had to squint in order to see. There was a soda machine in the hallway and it illuminated the area in a sickly green light. He counted doors on the left until he had reached the third one, and then paused in front of it. He hand touched the cold metal plate on the door. He hesitated a bit. Starting to lose his nerve he glanced around nervously. Come to me my darling. Did that sound just come from inside the door? Was she calling to him? He felt a hunger grow inside of him that was stronger than the fear he now felt. He pushed open the door slowly a peeked in. On a silver alter, there she lay, with her head turned toward him. Her right arm was out, beckoning him to her. She was totally naked, with long legs and firm breasts which drove him into a hormonal frenzy. He confidently made strides toward her. She wants me like no woman ever has, he thought to himself.

As he drew near he saw that her lips were parted in anticipation. He slowly began running his hands up and down her taunt body. He quickly undressed and threw his clothes on the floor as she waited patiently for him. Climbing on top of her, his knees instantly rejected the cold metal that she laid on. It was then that he realized that she was quite cold as well. "Would you rather do it on the floor?" he asked. She just looked at him in a way that made him feel stupid for asking. He gently put his arms under her and picked her up, setting her on top of his clothing scattered on the floor.

Looking down on her, the inconvenience of the moment was no more. His desire for her raged. He descended on top of her like a vulture. His warm breath and tongue warmed her abdomen, while he continued to increase in desire. Like a black rhino charging, the beast stuck his head through the window and parted the curtains with his horn. A shiver ran over his body with heroin-like pleasure. He smiled greedily to himself, and looked down on her.

It seemed to him that there was a sign of distress on her face. Her arms seem to try and push him off of her. But no, he thought, that can't be. There is no way that she would do that. But the feeling seized him again.

"Listen bitch, your getting fucked whether you like it or not!" he screamed at her, his voice echoing down the corridors. He grabbed her arms and pinned them down laughing and running his tongue over her face.

"Don't like that, huh?" he asked her, but didn't wait for an answer. He took his stubby hand and clamped it around her throat, and squeezed. The faster he rocked in and out of her, the harder he squeezed. He felt a great build up coming and by then his flabby arm was tensed as hard as it could be. He convulsed as his hot milk spluttered weakly inside of her. Releasing his hand and looking down, his limp virility flopped out and he noticed that she wasn't moving. He shook her face a little, but she didn't respond to him.

The little man quickly got up and dressed, smearing his guilty seed upon his lower limbs and breeches. He almost ran in making his way out of the room and back down the hallway. Pushing back outside, he saw a man standing there in a trench coat, smoking a cigarette.

"Finished already?" the man asked him.

"Yea-yeah, I'm done," the rapist said and handed the other man a pre-determined amount of money.

"Well, just come back anytime you get the desire, okay?"

"Okay, I'll do that," he said nervously and began pacing away down the sidewalk. Throwing down his cigarette, the pimp watched as the nervous man walked out of sight.

"I wonder what's eatin him?" the man mused. As he turned back to the building, he knew he would have to clean up. He glanced at his sign on the side of the building before going in. Johnson's Funeral Home. It made him chuckle a bit as he made his way inside.

+++

author's bio: Toby Beeny - I have been published eight times in newspapers but have never published fiction before. I am a lover of things gothic, and spend my free time playing Vampire: The Masquerade. I am currently working on a MA in Literature.