Tease Tuesday…Where’s my dress?

Today, I am sharing with you an excerpt from one of my friends from Literotica, my writing group, and someone I love doing coffee with…Karaline. In the last month,, we have shared laughter, tears and raunchy stories over coffee almost every week…well, except when I was back home. I hope you enjoy…The Yellow Dress.


At the sound of a door banging her eyes flew open.

For a moment she was disorientated, but it didn’t take her long to locate the change. It wasn’t pitch black any more, there was light spilling in from across the room. And He was back, she could see him now, looming over her.

She had no idea how much time he’d been gone or whether she had even been conscious for all of it but as he slid his hands underneath her and hoisted her into his arms, lifting her exhausted body and carrying her out of the cellar she noticed her limbs had grown stiff and achey from her time on the damp floor. She was surprised at his strength but she could smell the alcohol on him, stronger than before and she clung to his shoulders as he carried her up a flight of steep narrow steps, worrying he might fall or drop her. The staircase seemed to shake/tremble with every footfall. As they emerged into the hallway the sudden increase in light blinded her and she squeezed her eyes closed. She should be looking, memorising her surroundings, planning her escape but she couldn’t keep them open, it was too much.

He put her down prostrate on the bed and somehow without needing to see it, she just knew she was back in the same room. She lay absolutely still with her eyes squeezed closed, fists clenched by her sides. She didn’t think for a moment he actually believed she was asleep. Anyone with half a brain would know she was wide awake, she was trembling uncontrollably for starters. But she was too frightened to open her eyes and meet his gaze, too terrified to move. So instead she lay there.

He began undoing the buttons down the front of her dress.

Yellow DressAlthough she couldn’t see, all of her other senses were in overdrive, wherever his fingers brushed, goosebumps erupted across her skin. And she could hear him through her self imposed darkness, his breathing heavy and laboured still, after the exertion of carrying her. As he leant over her, reaching his hands behind her neck to untie the knotted fabric holding the halter neck in place and she could feel his breath against her throat, smell the bitter aroma of the unfamiliar spirit. Finally when he’d finished undoing it, he dragged the dress roughly out from underneath her and she was left only in her underwear.

Then there was silence.

She waited for something more to happen and when it didn’t she wondered if he’d gone. She hadn’t heard him leave. Unaware that she was clenching her fists tighter, she opened her eyes.

He sitting on the edge of the bed watching her. He didn’t look angry exactly but his gaze was hard and uncompromising as it travelled across her face. As she met his stare her instinct was telling her to move away, to stop lying here, vulnerable, close enough for him to touch. But her mind was telling her something else. ‘Keep still,’ it whispered. He reminded her of a predator and she knew that sometimes it was better not to run from predators, the chase excited them.

He stood and walked around the bed, she followed him with her eyes, her heart beat accelerating with every step he took. She realised with a jolt that he was he was also, wearing very little now. She had been so wrapped up with her own state on undress she hadn’t noticed at first. She couldn’t make out much in the dim light but he was big, he had the kind of physique that made it hard to see were his neck began and his head ended. He lay down next to her and leaning across her and switched the lamp off plunging the room into darkness.

He pulled a sheet over them both and pulled her into his embrace, pressing his chest against her back wrapping both his arms around her, draping one of his legs over hers, he was heavy and he was holding her so tightly she couldn’t move an inch.

“Sleep” he grunted against her hair. It was the only word he’d spoken since his most recent arrival in the basement.

She lay, listening to him breath and looking around her as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the silhouette of the furniture in the room. She tried to calm her own breathing without much success. But at least the trembling was starting to recede.


If you enjoyed this story, check out more of her works at her Literotica author’s page.

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