Dionaea Muscipula

I cannot avoid it and I cannot ignore it. The smell of my sex permeates my panties and escapes through my clothes. A sweet, musky smell that signals biological readiness and female hunger, it is the smell of pure sex and it intoxicates even me. I wonder if anyone else has noticed what is so distinctly obvious to my tortured libido, and if they have - does it have the same effect?

I am a ferile bitch in the Spring with every part of me alive and opening like the flora around me. I thrive in warm weather in ways that are obscene and dangerous. An Amazonian flower in full bloom, my nether regions are constantly swollen and thrust open by the sheer volume of their own presence. Milky dew covers the petals and offer a maddening fragrance that would draw even the mighty Zeus down from his Olympic perch. Nipples spring alive and erect with the slightest provocation now. Even the smell of fresh air in the morning sends rivulets of pleasure through me that fill my genitals with more impassioned dew. Everything arouses me, fully, completely and wholly. I am a Venus Flytrap waiting only for the first of many fleshly offerings.

My sanity perches precariously on the edges of my self-control like a bird on a fence watching the overwhelming riotous combustion happening in my own energy field. I am a viable threat to the delicate rein on reality that any willing victim might have because of the sheer volatility of my sex, my heat... my need will instantly reduce both of us to pure animal sentience with contact of any form becoming a wild, vivid melange of urges, sensations and colors.

I keep him tied in the corner, on the floor. The restraint of him is for his own protection as well as my peace of mind. He could never last with me. He would be devoured faster than a mouse facing a hungry snake and the resulting lack of satiety for me would only fuel already insane levels of frustration. No, it is better this way. I will not let him disappoint me. Controlling him allows me time to control myself. I cannot destroy what I treasure.

I pace in front of him, inches from his nose, knowing he can smell the fragrance of my sex as clearly and distinctly as I can. I stop in front of him and grab him by the hair, forcing his nose into the moist crotch of my panties. After a few moments, his breath becomes heavy and demanding. Long, ardent inhales as if a strong enough breath could pull the panties off by suction. My clit immediately becomes an erect tower of violent sexual desire. Throbbing painfully, I cannot stand the state of arousal he has exacerbated and I push his nose in deeper, grinding against his face in furious resentment.

His tongue bravely seeks out entry through the panties. Sucking and licking in a frenzy at the thin cloth; tasting only a mollified version of what is held at bay behind the panties, he is incensed with his own violent desire. He wants to pierce and probe the soft, fleshy entrance to my psyche. He wants to penetrate and conquer with any part of him that I will allow him to gain entry with. I know all too well what drives him. He is a victim of his own biology. I pull his head back sharply and gaze at him with the ferocity of a lioness in heat. He pleads silently with his gaze and the demands of his libido are deafening. After long, silent moments he surrenders to the futility of his pleas and wrestles with the rising tide of disappointment and frustration with his condition. I smirk with sadistic satisfaction and step back, just out of reach.

Standing there in front of him, I turn around to face away from him and begin to slowly bend over. The roundness of my hips and ass open into view and I begin slowly peeling the panties off. The dark skin of my own nether regions flair slightly and expose ruby pink along the inside of their petals. Swollen and dewy lips pout at him from between my thighs. Down my thighs, the panties continue sliding. Shapely thighs and calves offering curving lines and sweeping planes of flesh along the length reach down into the thin straps of stilletto heels with their accusing, sharp black points under the heel. I remain there motionless for a moment and let the panties fall to the floor around my ankles, knowing he is lost in a wild torrent of thoughts and desires. I remove the panties from the tangle of straps and stillettos and then, reach around my ankles and begin sliding my hands back up my legs with soaked panties dangling from one hand. Long, slender fingers canvas the flesh that is just out of his reach, forcing him to look at the object of his ardent desire. I reach the tops of my thighs and pull them apart just slightly so that the flower of my sex must open and reveal itself slightly. I arch my back even deeper and push my hips back toward him, knowing he could never reach it.

He is mad with need now. Promises and pleas pour out of him like a condemned man facing a firing squad. Every word is uttered with an insane passion that can only be found when you are standing on a precipice in a single moment, and one tiny change could change everything. Slowly, I stand up to my full height and turn to face him. His eyes are moist with frustrated need and his cock cries the tears that his eyes will not. Long strings of denied orgasm drip from the mouth of his cock as testament to its own hunger. He stares longingly at the cleft of my sex, only glancing momentarily at me before swiftly returning his gaze to the altar of my sex. I bring the panties to my own nose and preview what he will be tortured with. I am almost jealous of the olfactory pleasures he is about to indulge in.

I step close to him and stretch the panties out by holding them between two fingers of both hands. Leaning forward, I drag the fragrant fabric underneath his nose, slowly and deliberately watching him try to follow the small piece of fabric as it moves away. When he has bored me with his simpering pleas enough, my hand returns to my hip with panty dangling from it. I look down at him and reach for his hair to hold his head in place. Stepping directly in front of him but not allowing his nose or tongue convenient reach, I speak to him in a tone reserved for idiots and animals.

"Is this what you want?!", I demand.
"Yes, oh god yes, please mistress, yes", he says quickly, barely coherent.
"I don't think you are worthy of such high honor, you filthy animal! Look at you!", I snap cruelly, "You can't even control yourself now! Dripping all over the place like an excitable puppy!"
He looks down in shame and confusion. I know he can't control the mechanical aspects of his erection. My chastisement is for the inherent weakness in design of his biology. He is, after all, nothing more than a man.

"Here," I offer disdainfully and toss my panties on the floor in front of him. "If you can get to them, you can worship them while you masturbate." He looks at me in confusion and horror at my cruelty as he tests the security of his restraints. It never occurs to him to recognize my generosity in tying his hands just within reach of his cock and he will never think that the loose bond of one wrist that he will escape soon is out of planned design on my part instead of his own prowess. I don't mind. I encourage in him such a false sense of confidence to escape my plans. Humility is a lesson that is worth repeating for him.

He tries to kneel down to reach the panties with his teeth and realizes that the restraints and his position will not allow him such a privilege. He carefully maneuvers himself onto the floor on his side and wriggles over to the panties, all the while trying to force his way out of his restraints. He reaches the panties and begins to pull them into his mouth to suck the juices out of them. It is not entertaining enough for me so I go over and pull them from his mouth without warning. I lay them down on the floor in front of his face and step on the elastic to hold them open so that the wet crotch is exposed to him. "Lick it!", I command and he dutifully positions himself to lick the dew of my sex from the crotch of the panties.

He sniffs and laps at the panties between my feet like a devoted animal. My pussy throbs with sharp hunger as I watch the scene unfolding beneath me. A change in his rhythm catches my attention and I look over him to see what has caused the shift. He has managed to free one hand and has begun masturbating surreptitiously. I let him continue for a few more moments while I consider what next to do with him. His panty worship has become halting as he drifts in and out of acute consciousness and masturbatory incognizance. I squat down over the panties, facing him with my wet, swollen sex directly in front of him. He immediately squirms in an attempt to get closer to it and I open my thighs even more, inviting him in. I look down between my legs and watch him struggling in vain to reach the source of his cock's hunger. He finally maneuvers himself underneath me in the perfect position to worship at the altar of my sex but I won't reward him so easily. I stand up and take the cold, wet panties and stuff them into his mouth securely and then turn to plant myself over his mouth with his nose in front of my clit.

"Now, masturbate!", I command him and he quickly obeys. I reach down between the soft hairs of my pubis and part them with my fingers, searching out my own clit. I begin rocking back and forth on his face, holding the panties securely in place with my body weight. The smell of my sex becomes stronger and I make sure that he can smell it fresh and keenly. He begins to convulse slightly and I can see him sinking beneath the wave of a strong orgasm. "Don't you dare cum without permission!", I snap and he rapidly makes eye contact to try and plea for mercy. I scowl at his desire to question an order of obedience. He stops stroking and bites back a vehement desire to disobey and give his suffering cock release. He closes his eyes tightly for a moment and denies me view of his agony. I wait patiently for him to return to me, filled with renewed eagerness and overwhelming hunger.

"Look at me!", I shout at him. His eyelids fly open and offers me a clear view of the fire in his eyes. In a gentle, controlling whisper, I speak to him softly. "Now... you may cum." With a sigh of relief he renews his manual efforts. I grind slowly into the panties, masturbating against the fabric while I do it. Soft moans of approval escape from both of us and he begins to tense tightly with imminent release. I grab his hair and pull his face deeply into my crotch and grind even harder against him as he rides his orgasm to full explosion.

I can feel something dripping down the crack of my ass and with cold disapproval, I realize what it is. It is his lust soiling the clear barrier of my skin. I look down at him and speak in a thinly restrained voice. "You have just made a mess all over my ass", I hiss. He knows that this means sinister consequences for him, if not now then later, and he immediately snaps out of his self indulgent orgasmic oblivion. I move off of him and in one move, pull him back to an upright position. The sheer force of my fury allows me to maneuver him back to a kneeling position as if I were easily righting an overturned sack of potatoes.

"Look at this mess!", I spit out sharply as I turn to present my cum covered ass to him. "Do you see this?! Look at this mess!" He responds with frightened silence. "Is that all you have to say for yourself? Nothing?", I add, daring him to respond now.

"Fine.", I announce. "Since your tongue obviously isn't for communicating anything intelligent right now, let's make sure it is good for something useful. Clean this mess up!"

He leans forward and dutifully licks the cold, salty slime off of my ass. "Faster!", I continue, "I am not going to stand here forever waiting for you!". With that, he begins lapping earnestly to complete his task. In his furor, his tongue discovers my asshole and he begins searching each tiny wrinkle and opening for any phantom remains of semen. His cock recognizes the dirty thoughts that are racing through his mind as he tastes my ass under the guise of performing his duties. It is far too pleasurable; watching him trying to get away with something he knows he shouldn't have, to interrupt him at this particular moment. He must sense that I know what he is doing but he is not completely confident of it and this leaves him operating on tenterhooks. The juxtaposition of his anxiety and his bravery electrify my cunt with every tentative probe of his tongue. I am almost syncopic with the delicious headiness of it. His cock is throbbing softly in time with the beating of his heart and I can feel a long thread of cum escape from my own cunt and lay cold against my thigh waking me from my own reverie.

"Enough.", I tell him softly. I stand up straight and stretch lazily toward the sky. I gently guide him to a standing position and begin releasing him from his restraints while his erect cock bounces happily ignorant of what is to come next. I allow him a moment to stretch and open into his full allowance. Size, shape, mass and girth expand into full view before me and in this moment, I am aware of everything that makes him a male. He finishes his stretch by offering me a winsome gaze, intended to melt my hard boundaries and stern judgements. I return his gaze with a penetrating stare and hold him in place like a butterfly trapped by an invisible insect pin. I am not done with him yet and the slow realization of what this could mean for him falls from his face like a heavy fog descending to reveal the gravity of a situation.

"Come with me.", I say and catch one of his erect nipples between thumb and finger to lead him with. He follows me without resistance and his cock continues bouncing with each step like a simple animal that cannot fathom the possibility of any fate other than affectionate rewards awaiting it.