Strict Susan
05-28-2006, 1:51 PM
A short extract from the novel "The Flinker" - a rather different direction from most of my stories. Tell me what you think of it.
She reached out her hand towards Smarchen, wondering if perhaps there was more to it, and wanting at that moment to experiment, to find out whether it might just be possible to find the same excitement from a woman’s body. Her hand touched nervously on that subtle bulge at the base of Smarchen’s midriff and rested there, flat and motionless. Smarchen stirred, but did not awaken.
It was so much nicer, so much neater and tidier than a flinker’s slambold. By no stretch of the imagination could a slambold in any state be described as beautiful, and in contrast this perfect place of the female body just asked to be stroked or kissed.
Yet, Shardine felt no desire and no arousal. Without moving her hand she ran her gaze up Smarchen’s body, taking in the fullness of the curves and the swell of her full-grown, mature breasts. Her face too, in sleep, was beautiful and had nothing of the toughness and determination she had shown on the previous day. Shardine stared at Smarchen’s lips, slightly parted as she slept with her tongue and teeth visible between them. The female face was, in essence, no different from that of a flinker, except softer and more attractive. A female could, surely, smunter another female, matogle to matogle or vixling to vixling?
As she stared, imagining the feel of Smarchen’s face underneath her, licking and sucking as she had so often ordered flinkers to do, Shardine did feel a gentle stirring within her. At the same time, she knew that she had no desire to smunter Smarchen. The feelings inside her were far gentler and so much less intense. Smuntering was as much an expression of superiority and of dominance as it was of sensual desire. To smunter would be to enforce subservience, and that was far from Shardine’s mind.
Smarchen stirred again in her sleep, pressing her hips upward against Shardine’s hand. Her lips parted a little more, and the tip of her tongue ran around her lips moistening them slightly before it disappeared inside her mouth and her lips pressed together.
Without making any conscious movement, Shardine’s fingers curled downwards between Smarchen’s legs, feeling the softness of the slightly protruding fleshiness and the deepness between the yielding prominences that every flinker desired and feared. To Shardine’s slight surprise there was a dampness in there, a moistening that to Shardine could mean nothing but arousal and excitement. Yet Smarchen still slept, of that she was sure.
Shardine’s fingers explored further. As they did, Smarchen moaned softly and moved her legs further apart. Without thinking, Shardine lowered her head towards Smarchen and kissed gently, lips together, just where her fingers had been pressing.
Shardine froze with her face just an inch or two from Smarchen, momentarily horrified at herself. Smarchen was moving slightly, and Shardine felt Smarchen’s hand on the back of her head, pressing down. Shardine’s mouth opened, and her tongue found the places her fingers had explored.
Something in Shardine’s head took over. Her actions were automatic, and she hardly registered what she was doing. She licked and sucked, and at the same time her fingers pressed, rubbed and found their way deep into that increasingly wet fissure in Smarchen’s flesh. To Shardine it was rather as though what she was doing was to herself rather than to someone else. As she found and concentrated on all those places which she knew would give her the most pleasure, her own body produced the deep, sensually intense feelings she would be having if someone were doing it to her.
Smarchen gasped and writhed on the bed, her eyes tightly shut and her mouth open wide as little moans escaped from her. Her hands were now both on the back of Shardine’s head, urging her to press and suck more deeply and furiously. As the movements from both Shardine and Smarchen became faster and more vigorous, Smarchen suddenly moved rapidly and decisively. In one convulsive movement she turned sideways, throwing Shardine onto her back, swinging one leg over her and sitting up astride her face.
Still with her eyes closed, Smarchen rode Shardine’s face as fiercely and furiously as Shardine had ever seen anyone ride a flinker’s face. The force and power on top of Shardine was almost more than she could take. Unlike a flinker, Shardine was neither restrained nor at risk of some scramper causing her intense pain if she failed to co-operate fully, and with a little effort Shardine could easily have pushed Smarchen from her or wriggled away from underneath. Shardine did neither. She remained quite still beneath Smarchen’s violent movements, sliding her hands under Smarchen’s as Smarchen now leaned forward and pressed down onto the bed to support herself and her movement. Shardine went further, not holding Smarchen’s hands palm to palm nor intertwining their fingers, but sliding on upwards until Smarchen held not her hands but her wrists, effectively making if difficult or impossible for her, Shardine, to release herself from under Smarchen even if she now decided she wanted release.
Smarchen grasped Shardine’s wrists tightly, using the extra leverage to force herself down onto Shardine’s face. She shifted more of her weight forward onto her arms, increasing Shardine’s sensation of being completely helpless although for Smarchen it merely enabled her to move her body more freely and to achieve the maximum effect from the physical sensation of the contours of Shardine’s face under her.
Shardine licked and sucked as Smarchen’s moving flesh squirmed and writhed on top of her. Several times she moved her head as well as she could when Smarchen pressed painfully at an angle that hurt her, although any movement was difficult. She struggled to breath, snatching quick gasps of air as Smarchen moved but finding her mouth and nose completely covered for most of the time.
Eventually, Smarchen shuddered and sat back squarely on Shardine’s face, groaning. Shardine was now totally smothered in Smarchen’s the heavy, clinging flesh which seemed to shut her in and at the same time still suck her deeper. The airlessness was total. Smarchen seemed completely oblivious to the matogle underneath her, and sat completely still, her body heaving in gasps and groans. Seconds passed. Shardine would have struggled, but the weight of Smarchen on top of her and the grasp she still had on her wrists made it impossible for Shardine to do any more than to kick her legs uselessly.
As Shardine was starting to lose consciousness, Smarchen gave a final gasp and a shudder, and fell sideways onto the bed. She lay with her eyes closed, one leg still across Shardine’s face.
Carefully Shardine eased herself out from under Smarchen’s thigh. She staggered as she stood up next to the bed, slipped on her clothes and went outside.
**********************************************
"The Flinker" by Susan Strict is published by A1 Adult eBooks.
Click the graphic for more details.
http://www.strictsusan.com/publish/flinker.jpg (http://www.a1adultebooks.com/site.php?id=SusanS&pr=303)
She reached out her hand towards Smarchen, wondering if perhaps there was more to it, and wanting at that moment to experiment, to find out whether it might just be possible to find the same excitement from a woman’s body. Her hand touched nervously on that subtle bulge at the base of Smarchen’s midriff and rested there, flat and motionless. Smarchen stirred, but did not awaken.
It was so much nicer, so much neater and tidier than a flinker’s slambold. By no stretch of the imagination could a slambold in any state be described as beautiful, and in contrast this perfect place of the female body just asked to be stroked or kissed.
Yet, Shardine felt no desire and no arousal. Without moving her hand she ran her gaze up Smarchen’s body, taking in the fullness of the curves and the swell of her full-grown, mature breasts. Her face too, in sleep, was beautiful and had nothing of the toughness and determination she had shown on the previous day. Shardine stared at Smarchen’s lips, slightly parted as she slept with her tongue and teeth visible between them. The female face was, in essence, no different from that of a flinker, except softer and more attractive. A female could, surely, smunter another female, matogle to matogle or vixling to vixling?
As she stared, imagining the feel of Smarchen’s face underneath her, licking and sucking as she had so often ordered flinkers to do, Shardine did feel a gentle stirring within her. At the same time, she knew that she had no desire to smunter Smarchen. The feelings inside her were far gentler and so much less intense. Smuntering was as much an expression of superiority and of dominance as it was of sensual desire. To smunter would be to enforce subservience, and that was far from Shardine’s mind.
Smarchen stirred again in her sleep, pressing her hips upward against Shardine’s hand. Her lips parted a little more, and the tip of her tongue ran around her lips moistening them slightly before it disappeared inside her mouth and her lips pressed together.
Without making any conscious movement, Shardine’s fingers curled downwards between Smarchen’s legs, feeling the softness of the slightly protruding fleshiness and the deepness between the yielding prominences that every flinker desired and feared. To Shardine’s slight surprise there was a dampness in there, a moistening that to Shardine could mean nothing but arousal and excitement. Yet Smarchen still slept, of that she was sure.
Shardine’s fingers explored further. As they did, Smarchen moaned softly and moved her legs further apart. Without thinking, Shardine lowered her head towards Smarchen and kissed gently, lips together, just where her fingers had been pressing.
Shardine froze with her face just an inch or two from Smarchen, momentarily horrified at herself. Smarchen was moving slightly, and Shardine felt Smarchen’s hand on the back of her head, pressing down. Shardine’s mouth opened, and her tongue found the places her fingers had explored.
Something in Shardine’s head took over. Her actions were automatic, and she hardly registered what she was doing. She licked and sucked, and at the same time her fingers pressed, rubbed and found their way deep into that increasingly wet fissure in Smarchen’s flesh. To Shardine it was rather as though what she was doing was to herself rather than to someone else. As she found and concentrated on all those places which she knew would give her the most pleasure, her own body produced the deep, sensually intense feelings she would be having if someone were doing it to her.
Smarchen gasped and writhed on the bed, her eyes tightly shut and her mouth open wide as little moans escaped from her. Her hands were now both on the back of Shardine’s head, urging her to press and suck more deeply and furiously. As the movements from both Shardine and Smarchen became faster and more vigorous, Smarchen suddenly moved rapidly and decisively. In one convulsive movement she turned sideways, throwing Shardine onto her back, swinging one leg over her and sitting up astride her face.
Still with her eyes closed, Smarchen rode Shardine’s face as fiercely and furiously as Shardine had ever seen anyone ride a flinker’s face. The force and power on top of Shardine was almost more than she could take. Unlike a flinker, Shardine was neither restrained nor at risk of some scramper causing her intense pain if she failed to co-operate fully, and with a little effort Shardine could easily have pushed Smarchen from her or wriggled away from underneath. Shardine did neither. She remained quite still beneath Smarchen’s violent movements, sliding her hands under Smarchen’s as Smarchen now leaned forward and pressed down onto the bed to support herself and her movement. Shardine went further, not holding Smarchen’s hands palm to palm nor intertwining their fingers, but sliding on upwards until Smarchen held not her hands but her wrists, effectively making if difficult or impossible for her, Shardine, to release herself from under Smarchen even if she now decided she wanted release.
Smarchen grasped Shardine’s wrists tightly, using the extra leverage to force herself down onto Shardine’s face. She shifted more of her weight forward onto her arms, increasing Shardine’s sensation of being completely helpless although for Smarchen it merely enabled her to move her body more freely and to achieve the maximum effect from the physical sensation of the contours of Shardine’s face under her.
Shardine licked and sucked as Smarchen’s moving flesh squirmed and writhed on top of her. Several times she moved her head as well as she could when Smarchen pressed painfully at an angle that hurt her, although any movement was difficult. She struggled to breath, snatching quick gasps of air as Smarchen moved but finding her mouth and nose completely covered for most of the time.
Eventually, Smarchen shuddered and sat back squarely on Shardine’s face, groaning. Shardine was now totally smothered in Smarchen’s the heavy, clinging flesh which seemed to shut her in and at the same time still suck her deeper. The airlessness was total. Smarchen seemed completely oblivious to the matogle underneath her, and sat completely still, her body heaving in gasps and groans. Seconds passed. Shardine would have struggled, but the weight of Smarchen on top of her and the grasp she still had on her wrists made it impossible for Shardine to do any more than to kick her legs uselessly.
As Shardine was starting to lose consciousness, Smarchen gave a final gasp and a shudder, and fell sideways onto the bed. She lay with her eyes closed, one leg still across Shardine’s face.
Carefully Shardine eased herself out from under Smarchen’s thigh. She staggered as she stood up next to the bed, slipped on her clothes and went outside.
**********************************************
"The Flinker" by Susan Strict is published by A1 Adult eBooks.
Click the graphic for more details.
http://www.strictsusan.com/publish/flinker.jpg (http://www.a1adultebooks.com/site.php?id=SusanS&pr=303)