The Hand That Knows Me

Two packages were waiting on my bed when I got home...

One held lingerie and a bundle of papers.

The other rattled when I touched it.

I dangle the lingerie from my fingers. Black leather — strappy, soft, and daring. At the center sits a metal ring. A harness-style panty meant to hold something in place… only this ring faces inward, as if whatever fits there is meant for me.

‘Maybe it’s for one of those wild, crazy, vibrating monster dildos… Ooo, please let package number two be a wild, crazy, vibrating monster dildo!’

Before I open the other package, I unfold the bundle of paper.

My Cara Mia!

For the past year, my longing for you has been all-consuming. As I’ve watched from the shadows I’ve craved the touch of your body, the taste of your lips, the sound of your beautiful, sweet laughter, and the depth of your heart. Soon, I intend to make you mine the way you should be, completely.

Gomez

A rush fills me and my heart skips. I bite my lip needing to feel something, anything to keep me from getting too lost in my own dark needy fantasies. Grounding myself with the pain in my lip, I look to the second package. It’s a cage. Vintage, metal-wire, covered by a black velvet skirt and tied secured by a black satin bow, hiding what’s inside. My fingers are a bit shaky as I pull the bow loose. Taking a calming breath, I lift the skirt, revealing his other gift…

‘Oh, my fucking stars! It’s even better than a wild, crazy, vibrating monster dildo… it’s actually a monster, a pleasure monster.’

Sitting on a swing inside the cute vintage bird cage, where a fluffy little bird should be chirping away and poofing its feathers out, was instead a severed hand…. kinda. I stepped back. Not because it was horrifying—because it wasn’t. It was like a hand that just didn’t grow a body with it, a hand stub? The fingers flexed slowly, like something waking up that had been listening the whole time. I wasn’t sure when it started moving… only that it hadn’t been before.

Its thumb and pinky are wrapped around the ropes as it starts to swing back and forth. He’s… cute, in a horrific kinda way. But also he’s… Hmmmm, delicious. I have a thing for hands. It runs deep.

I love how someone moves and expresses with their hands, the grip and strength they hold, the veins and shape, length of the fingers, dexterity, gracefulness, power. I often watch cooking shows as porn while fucking myself, watching how their hands make food that goes in my mouth and slides down my throat. There’s a lot to a hand, and this one… Oh my, my! I begin to picture how it’d look doing different things… to me.

I look at the other paper, the one with ‘Care & Instructions’ written beautifully across the top.

Care & Instructions

Meet the next level in soul-bonded sex toys. Where partners can clone a part of their body, connect with it spiritually, and use it long-distance to please or torture one another on a sinful level. This appendage is an exact replica of your partner’s, and is fully connected. They can feel everything as if it’s attached to them as an extra genital, instead of cloned from, gaining pleasure of their own. So, take good care and be considerate.

Product Feature: Soul-Linked Sensory Feedback™

Warning: Excessive enthusiasm may be felt by both parties.

Warranty void if exposed to holy water.

Taunt the soul-linked appendage at your own peril.

Enjoy!

I look back to the cage and the little guy inside swinging oh-so-happily away. His muscles flexing, digits bending; showcasing his every detail... Oh how those digits might feel fingering my dark and damp mausoleum, or flicking against my rosebuds of mourning. How they might taste when I suck my demonic juices off them, too.

I know what you’re going to say… “But Tish, it’s a fucking severed hand!” And I get it. Gross, am I right? But those fingers!

In some realms, this kind of thing isn’t strange at all. A soul-linked toy — one partner controlling it, both partners feeling everything.

“I don’t think you should have to be locked up, do you? Just don’t murder me, ok?” I say to the hand, trying to fill the weird space between us with something that feels familiar and safe, such as my treating it like a friend, as I open the cage-door and brace myself. It pauses when I speak, then flicks a finger as if to agree, as if it can hear what I say.

The hand hops off its swing and pads on its tips with a joyfulness, to the door of the cage. It steps through them, and comes to a stop as if it’s looking right at me, but without eyes…because it’s a hand, people…

Suddenly, it jumps and comes at me. Fear takes over and I let out an awkward and very unsexy squawk, batting and jumping around like a weirdo, as it climbs my body.

It comes all the way up to my neck, then as if it were attached to an arm, it just lets go. Hovering in the air, coming to my face. I freeze and wait to see what else it’ll do, ready to kick its ass if its evil and hoping it shows me otherwise.

To my relief it lovingly caresses my cheek like a known partner. I relax, letting down my danger walls and enjoying the connection, but apparently a little too soon. Because suddenly, it slides quickly inside my shirt at the first opportunity to caress my tit, going straight for my nipple.

Shocked, I go to grab and pull it out, but…

A moan escapes me and I stall my hands. It plays my buds like a master and I bite my lip.Soon, it changes direction and makes its way down under my pleated-skirt. It fingers its way deeper into my panties, then slides into my wet cunny, my panties almost acting like a strap to hold it in place, keeping it where it can play with my greedy bean.

‘Oh! That’s what the straps are for!’

Eager for more, I join in, bringing my hands up and allowing them to instinctively caress and play with my own breasts. I let out a deep, throaty moan and think about how this hand is literally Gomez’s. That he is orchestrating this intimate moment as well as feeling every part of what I feel through this link, is a complex mix of emotions, playing in the back of my mind with every sweet and savory lick of passion I’m feeling right now.

I’m helpless to resist the rapture filling me. My body responds eagerly to every touch by this… this thing that dances across my skin and feeds me what I need most.

The hand backs its finger out, then thrusts two fingers back inside.

“Mmmm. Yes, more!” I beg it.

They hook then flick hard and fast, as if each finger pedals against my spongy spot like a bicycle, listening to the words I just moaned out. It’s amazing. Arching my back and widening my legs, I submit to this thing fully. I’m writhing in my sheets, fisting them, and begging this severed hand for more, for rougher. Pawing at myself as I feel every-delicious-thing...

It adds a third finger, and the thrusting gets harder, faster, and with so much force I begin to crawl up that steep, steep hill. Seeking to fall far off that metaphorical cliff and land in waves of wild, quivering passion. Things all around my room begin to float in the air, my emotions so strong I can’t help the desire to levitate from coming true.

Just as I begin to nearly scream my ecstasy out and squeeze those fingers tight with the contractions of my walls, the hand moves. And the next thing I know, its choking me. Not in a way to cut off breath, but to restrict it, tighten and slow things down. My eyes roll back. I slip my fingers inside my now warm and quaking center, taking over as the thing continues to choke me and a smile spreads across my lips.

I love being choked, but at this moment, this thing has me spinning. I need something else…

“Please! Slide back in and fuck my cunt. Your fingers are so amazing, I need you in me!” I tell it and it listens, sliding right in with all its fingers this time. The entire fist stretching me out, ramming my hole with a velocity that suggests this thing feels pleasure in everything it does. Not just Gomez, not just me, but the hand too. I wonder if it can cum.

The thought makes my toes curl.

Grabbing the hand fucking me, I bring it my lips, needing to please it in return. Grateful for how it owns my body. Summoning my favorite dildo from the nightstand I keep it in, I stuff my hole with it, turning on the vibrations and riding it while sucking this severed hand off. I lick and toy with it, teasing it mercilessly as if it can magically reflect everything I do to Gomez’s cock, making him cum all over himself like he has made me with this hand.

It’s crazy, it’s fucking weird, but it’s so Hecate-damned hot and I’m about to boil over again.

I slipped his finger out of my mouth, “Uuuh! I’m gonna…” I don’t even finish my words, my teeth clamp shut, muscles contracting hard, hips rolling wildly, as my pussy pours out gallons of euphoria upon the bed I lay on, my body on fire from within as it scorches me, and I scream…