Om mig

Mit billede
Oslo, Norway
Nysgjerrig. Autodidakt. Frilanser. Musiker. Skribent. Meningsfull. Byråkrat. Meg selv, på de fleste plan, med stor nysgjerrighet for livet utenfor det såkalte normale. Tilhenger av det rettferdige og samarbeid på tvers av alt. Leser og skriver der jeg har lyst. Fetisjist, hedonist, eksibisjonist, og biseksuell. Pround to be a member of FRI/LLH, Sex&Politikk, SMil Norge og Oslo BDSM! ⊙ Oslo C · steneanker@gmail.com steneanker.wordpress.com

søndag den 11. august 2013




Little Red

From the time she was a little girl, Little Red’s mother always told her who she was. You’re so sweet, she’d say, so innocent and kind. You’re so beautiful, with your perfect, pale skin and deep, shining blue eyes.
Every day she dressed her in frills and lace, tying her pigtails neatly, lacing her little body up tight with a cream colored corset, layering on petticoats and stockings. The finishing touch was always her flowing red cape, the only color in her various ensembles.
Little Red’s mother never let her leave their home or their yard, warning her of the dangers in the neighboring woods. She said there was a Big Bad Wolf out there, a huge, ugly creature with sharp teeth who ate little girls. Whenever she heard strange sounds from the forest at night, Little Red pulled the covers over her face, afraid the wolf would come to get her.
Little Red tried her best to be a good girl, hiding behind her hood whenever she went outside. She kept her eyes low and her voice soft. Little Red always did as she was told.
But as years passed and Little Red matured, she grew tired of the itchy lace, the restrictive clothing, and most of all, the expectation that she would always be perfect Little Red, quiet and proper.
One day, while Little Red’s mother went to town for a few days, Little Red grew bored and restless. She wandered outside, yearning to know what was beyond their picket fence. The summer’s heat was suffocating, and she felt like she might faint. If her mother had been around, she would have told her to go inside and lie down, to rest. But Little Red was tired of listening to mother.
Beads of sweat dripping down her back, Little Red decided to try to cool off, so she could explore further. She kicked off her shoes and peeled off her stockings, instantly relieved by the freeing feeling of air on her bare legs. She pulled off her petticoat, and after some struggle, managed to untie her corset, letting it drop to the ground. She removed everything except her cape, since she’d always liked it. It was the only color in her monotonous life.
As she walked towards the front gate, Little Red caught a glimpse of her reflection in the silver mailbox and was surprised by what she saw: two round, perky breasts, a small waist, curvy hips, a little bush of hair between her legs, and a slit of flesh below it.  She’d never really looked at herself naked before, at least not all together at once. She realized she was beautiful, even without the lace and the gowns.
With only her cape, Little Red ran away from her house and into the woods, afraid of what she might find, but tired of feeling scared, sheltered, and weak. The terrain was uneven, so she used a long stick that she found to help her along her trek. So far nothing seemed frightening,  and the sound of birds singing comforted her.
As she came around a large tree, Little Red saw something peculiar on the ground. At first she was thought it was some sort of small creature, but it wasn’t moving. She approached it cautiously, and found that it was a long white and grey tail, but it didn’t belong to any animal. When she picked it up, she realized it had a piece of glass attached to it, as if it were some sort of decoration.
pennysblog_littlered1
Confused, Little Red sat in front of the big tree, feeling the smooth glass and running her fingers through the soft fur. She had no idea what it was for, but she sat there for a while, mesmerized by its beauty.
The longer she held the tail, the more Little Red realized how unhappy she’d been lately, how sad and unsatisfied. She petted the smooth fur as she thought, calmed by it. For a moment she considered returning home with the tail, so she could find out who it belonged to, when suddenly she realized, beyond a doubt, that the tail was in fact meant for her.
pennysblog_littlered3
As if by magic, the glass piece attached to the tail was cold despite the heat outside, and Little Red dragged it across her bare skin, first on her neck and around her breasts, then moving lower. Her skin tingled, and wetness blossomed between her thighs. Her eyes, which were usually wide, half closed as she moaned, her legs shaking and her breath wavering, as she reached her first high of orgasmic pleasure.
Afterwards, Little Red collapsed in a heap on the ground, panting. Now she knew why her mother had tried to hide her beneath layers of clothing, and why she wouldn’t let her alone in the forest. Little Red had discovered the power her body was capable of. She wasn’t a perfect little porcelain girl at all, she was meant to be wild. Nothing could stop her.
She shed her cape, the last thing holding her back, and lay on the forest floor, writhing in the leaves and dirt, the sun warming her naked flesh. Little Red finally knew what to do. She took the cool glass piece of the tail and rolled over on her side, touching herself. As she reached her second orgasm, she pushed the glass into herself from behind. She gasped as it entered her, as she transformed.
She rose from the ground, reborn, blood coursing through her veins with a heat from deep within her. She saw the red cape on the ground and almost didn’t recognize it.
pennysblog_littlered4
She wasn’t Little Red anymore.
She laughed at the thought of who she’d once been, that scared, frilly little girl. She got on all fours and wagged her tail, growling. A fierce, lustful hunger consumed her.
***
When Little Red’s mother finally returned home from town, she was distraught to find that Little Red wasn’t in her room. As she looked all around the house, she heard a chilling howl in the distance, a sound unlike anything she’d heard before. It resembled that of a wolf, but slightly higher pitched, and much more frightening. She shuddered, worried that she’d never see her Little Red again.
Photography: Epic Studios
Model: Me
Sinful Sunday

Ingen kommentarer:

Send en kommentar