Marie's Pleasure

Grateful Service

2012-01-18T12:59:00.000-06:00

I knelt before him. His body could not have been more beautiful or hard if it had been carved from cold marble. It was anything but cold, though. His heat and scent infused my senses. His hand in my hair a sensuous pleasure. I turned my face and pressed my cheek into his palm, looking up into his liquid brown eyes. He smiled and I melted. Gently, hesitantly, I cradled his jewels and kissed the tip of his shaft. He sighed and I was pleased. I licked around the head and up and down his shaft tasting his skin while caressing his balls. He gripped my hair a with a bit more force and I wrapped my lips around his head, slowly sinking. Slowly adding pressure with my tongue. Going down until I felt the tender place where rod meets cushions. I stayed for a moment, massaging his length with my tongue. Finally, I moved both hands and head - sucking, caressing, worshiping his manhood and his beauty. I could stay like this forever - kneeling before him, his flesh filling my mouth. I feel his breathing quicken and his hands grasp my hair almost painfully. I know he's close. I push down, feeling him expand even more, his tip touching the back of my throat. I contract my tongue, pressing his length against the roof of my mouth. His burning essence shoots down my throat, searing it with his taste. I moan joyfully. He relaxes his grip on my hair and sighs. I know I've pleased him, but I'm not finished. Just because he's shrinking doesn't mean his cock needs less attention. So I continue, very gently now, to lick and suck and clean every drop from him. His taste more satisfying than the sweetest fruit.
I kiss his balls, his thighs, his lower stomach and then attend, once again, to his satisfied cock, praying that perhaps, when he's hard once again, he'll grace my cunt, dripping with honey, with it's presence.

Journals of a Domestic - 2

2012-01-02T10:40:00.000-06:00

First off, let me say that I have never been happier in my life! Sir Steffen has put me in charge of reorganizing his impressive library - which is one holy mess! Since he's a professor of history, this truly is a labour of love for me! I simply adore the smell of the old books, the hard backed covers, the vast amounts of knowledge hidden within the tomes.

My position, however, requires that I not only perform domestic duties, but also that I please Sir Steffen in any way he chooses. Considering he's the hottest man I've ever met, gentle while still firm, appreciative and polite, this is also a labour of love! He's also been quite clear that he can and will take NO for an answer and respect whatever limits I choose to impose. Like I said - polite! A few days ago he sat me down and went over a list of things that would please him. A few things on that list jumped out at me - one was Anal sex/training. He saw my fear and asked about it. When I told him I had tried it once with horrible results, he just nodded for me to continue. I couldn't believe that I was actually admitting that I have always wanted to try anal, but didn't think I was able to based on that first time.

Now - he's training my ass and I LOVE IT!!! Right after this conversation, which was in the library, he opened up a locked drawer in his desk. My eyes had to have about popped out of my head! There, lined up all nice and neat, were 4 anal plugs ranging from about the size of a man's thumb to Holy Fuck big. He told me to bend over the desk, which I did, naturally, despite a bit of apprehension. He caressed my ass and I felt something cold and slick go into my anus. I jumped about a mile and he laughed a bit and told me it was just a bit of lube. Then, slowly, he began to insert the smallest plug. I tensed up, but when he started fingering my clit as well, I relaxed and became quite excited. Before I knew it, I climaxed. Sir then kissed the back of my neck, helped me stand up and handed me a black thong. He told me that the thong would help hold the plug in place and I was to wear it until he told me otherwise. He then gave my ass a sweet swat and told me to continue my work.

The plug was amazing. It moved with every one of my movements, reminding me of my duel purpose. I've never felt so sexy in my life! Today, Sir told me, he was going to move up to the next larger plug.

I love my life.

Journals of a Domestic

2011-12-27T15:57:00.000-06:00

I've always liked to read fiction written in the style of a personal journal, so I'm thinking about doing a series of journal-type entries which could, eventually, be joined together into a full length book. Keep in mind, this is FICTION, just written from the first person point of view. Naturally, some of my own experiences, research, and knowledge goes into all of my stories, but generally, it's about 80% made-up fun.

So, if you'd be so kind, dear reader, after you have finished this short "Journal" entry, please leave a comment and let me know what you think.

December 27, 1991

This is only my second day at my new job and I gotta say - it's kind of scary. I knew what I was signing on for, at least I thought I did, but now I'm questioning my decision. Still, I signed a contract and I'll honor my word. Besides, Sir Steffen has stated over and over again that if he requests something I truly don't want to do, I don't have to. He will simply release me from my contract with no hard feelings.

You see, this all started because I couldn't get a job. Times are tough for a 22 year old woman with a useless degree in Anthropology. I've got a trust fund, so I don't really need money, but I've got too much pride to sponge off of that. So, I took this job as a "domestic" for Sir Steffen.
Here's the low-down and dirty of the job.

1. The Uniform. I am to wear black pumps (3 inch heels) with a lovely ankle strap and a short - very short - black, sleeveless dress which is quite form fitting but also very soft and comfortable. I am not allowed underclothing of any kind unless I'm on the rag, the I must use tampons and wear a g-string. I also wear soft leather bracelets which have small rings attached to their clasps.

2. Appearance. I am to wear a modest amount of make-up daily, my long, brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail, and keep my legs, pits and pubic area free from all hair. I can do this by waxing, shaving, or depilatories.

3. Room. I was given a small room which is completely mine. In it is a single bed, a dresser and an attached bathroom complete with tub, shower, toilet and sink.

4. Duties. I will serve all meals to Sir Steffen and any guests. Further, keep my own room and bathroom impeccably tidy as well as Sir Steffen's library - which is impressive! - neat, orderly and categorized. I have also agreed to any and all training - mental, physical or sexual - which Sir Steffen deems necessary for me.

5. Compensation. Room, board, full medical benefits, clothing of Sir Steffen's choice, and an allowance of $100.00 a week.

I'm not stupid here. Sir Steffen made himself VERY clear. He is a Dominant fond of having pretty, submissive women around him. I will be expected to perform sexually for him and he, in turn, will most likely punish me by (according to him) spanking, nipple torture, plugging, gagging, humiliation, or any other means I agree to. In fact, I've already screwed up and paid the price.

This morning, anxious to be on time to serve breakfast, I forgot to put on my make-up - just some lip gloss, a bit of blusher, a dash of eye shadow and a touch of mascara. Not much at all, but I just plumb forgot! As I was pouring Sir's coffee, he looked up at me and sighed. Right away my heart dropped and I knew my mistake. My hand shook, but I managed to keep from spilling the coffee.
With him staring at me, I replaced the pot on the sideboard and stood before him with my hands crossed in front of me, my head down shamefully.

When he told me I had disappointed him, I died a little inside. I have no idea why I want to please this man so much, but I do. Anyway, he also assured me that he understood my mistake was due to the fact that I was new and still learning the ropes - so to speak - of working for him. Still, I needed to be taught that purposeful failure was not an option and would be immediately punished. I nodded and assured him that I understood and would be grateful for his correction.

He scooted his chair away from the table and told me to lie across his lap. I'm so proud of myself for not even hesitating. This must have pleased him too, because when I was in position, he gave my ass a sweet little pat and murmured something that sounding like "that's a good girl."

After that, though, there was nothing sweet or little. He brought his hand down with a wallop that had me wimpering in no time at all! He ignored my cries and continued to spank me until my ass was ON FIRE!!! Still, I didn't struggle away from him, I just cried and hollered a bit. Finally, he stopped. He just let me cry a little while longer, while her rubbed my back and I calmed down, then he helped me stand. He then told me to go upstairs, put on my make-up and continue with my duties.

Let me tell you - I scurried to do just that. My bottom burned most of the day and when I glanced in a mirror, I saw it was as red as it was hot. The shocking part, I was so aroused I damned near orgasmed!!! I mean, my pussy was positively dripping and my thighs were wet all day, especially when, just before bed, Sir had me lift my skirt so he could check my ass. He said he was quite pleased with the way I had conducted myself then, THEN, he swiped one finger across my slit! I jumped about 10 feet in the air and felt myself juicing again! Sir just laughed, slapped my ass once more, told me I was going to fit in just fine, and to get to bed since tomorrow was another full day.

Tomorrow. I can't wait to see what that brings!

Holiday Humbugs

2011-12-06T20:32:00.000-06:00

I'm going to apologize now. This is NOT a sexy post - so - if you are looking for sexy, monkey-fucking-hot text, check out some of my other posts or, better yet, my books!! But THIS blog, This blog is about my holiday humbugs. I didn't used to have those bugs - in fact, I used to be Merry personified. Now, I have to be talked into putting the tree up, I postpone shopping until the last minute and I will not attack wrapping without at least 2 bottles of wine chilling.

The only thing I look forward to during the Happy Season is baking day (although last year was kind of a bust expect for my BFF Shari and her lovely daughter and boyfriend) 'cuz my sons' girlfriends and a few others have agreed to show up and help (including Shari - yay!!). I love baking day - filled with joyful scents and laughter. Generally, I pull off about 8-10 types of cookies (at least one is a complete FAIL) and 2-5 types of candies.

But why, you may ask, am I now afflicted with the Hum Bugs? I'm not sure, but this time of year my ghosts visit me and I miss them terribly. I miss my grandfather who used to think I was a princess, my Aunt Blanche who always made Chex Mix, my Aunt Rose who would say prayers with me and make me believe in Santa, my MeeMaw who was the most TOTALLY AWESOME woman to have ever lived, my Grandma who was the only person in the family shorter than me, my father who looked and acted just like Fred Flintstone, my only brother who was my hero. So far tonight, my mother has only called 4 times to ask about Christmas cards - yes, she has dementia and even though she drives me crazy, I'm grateful she remembers who I and my sons are (Okay, so she thinks Baby Boy number one is married when he really isn't, but she's right in thinking he's happy with his lovely girlfriend!).

I hear the echo of my sons' tiny little footsteps galloping on hardwood floors. I see the shadows of ridiculously large Christmas trees dropping carpets of pine needles on my hardwood floors. I feel a remembrance of warm, sleepy bodies lying against my chest as I carry my sleeper cloaked babies to their beds.

So I sit here, watching sappy Christmas movies and crying (yes, I'm quite, quite maudlin) and remember and wonder if I will ever find that joy that I once cherished. But then, my oldest sends me a fancy dessert, my youngest builds me a warm, my husband tells me he loves me and I realize just how lucky I am. I have so very much - absolutely wonderful sons, a handsome, intelligent husband, a lovely, Victorian home, food aplenty, a fat little dog, wine, exceptionally good friends. I've made incredibly stupid mistakes which I have learned from. I have lost much so that I appreciate what I am given. I have struggled so that I can enjoy a bit more ease. I have lost so that I can love truly.

I have so much to be grateful for.

My ghosts constantly trail behind me, but they wish me no harm. I do not fear them. I love them for what they have given me and what they continue to teach me. As far as those Hum Bugs go - well, they're still with me and they are annoying little bastards, but their bite is not fatal. I am stronger than they.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.

Fantasy

2011-11-27T14:25:00.000-06:00

His body was exhausted, dirty, grimy. Work today had seemed impossibly hot and dirty and unending, but now he could shower, relax a bit and get ready for his evening. As he peeled off his sweat encrusted shirt he thought about Jill: her long red hair, tiny waist, big tits. God. He felt himself getting hard just thinking about her tits. Turning on the hot water, his thoughts continued in a downward direction. When he'd first met Jill, he'd wondered if her hair was died, not that he cared, but the neatly trimmed tuft of red fur above her nether lips confirmed that she was a natural.
A natural at many things, he grinned, as he stepped into the shower and grabbed a bottle of shampoo. That girl was flexible as hell, bending over to grab her ankles while wearing 4 inch pumps so he had full access to her pussy and ass. She could suck his dick for an hour without coming up for air. He moaned, letting his slippery hands slide over his body as he remembered her tight pussy sucking him dry. She milked him until he couldn't think anymore. He could only beg for more.Tonight, though, he was going to make sure she begged. He rubbed his hand up and down his 7 inch shaft and thought about his plans. Jill was more used to strength and power, so tonight, he was going to romance her with a slow but firm hand.
His own hand pumped a little faster now on his soap covered rod and he leaned his head back against the cool tile of the shower. He'd give her the flowers he had purchased on the way home and they'd sit down to a meal of take-out Chinese. She'd flirt with him but he'd ignore it, continue to be a perfect gentleman. Then, he'd kiss her. A long, slow, heart melting kiss that touched the soul passion and need.

He moaned again as pre cum leaked from his dick. He gripped himself tighter and let go of his first load, seeing Jill's face in his mind. Breathing harder now, he continued planning. The champagne was already chilling next to the bed, so once she was limp from the kiss, he'd pick her up, carry her to the bed room and slowly undress her there. His balls tightened again, remember the softness of her skin, the whiteness of her flesh against his tanned, work callused hands. Again, he began to pump. He wanted to be good and drained so he could make this time with her as long as possible. He'd begin by just kissing her body - every inch of it. Suckling her nipples, working down to her pussy. Lapping and licking her clit like a friendly kitten. After she came, he'd enter her, fill her with his manhood - slowly - making her feel every inch of him enter her. He wouldn't fuck her. No. He'd make love to her, worship her as she deserved. Make her know and feel and believe what a beautiful woman she truly was.

Panting, he exploded again, his own semen running down his hands, mingling with the soap. Letting the water was away the all the bubbles, he smiled and turned off the handles.

Tonight was going to be a very good night.

It's time to be Thankful

2011-11-23T10:35:00.000-06:00

Okay, folks. I'm feeling random so here's the obligatory list of items for which I am thankful. And by random - I really mean RANDOM!!!

Rainboots
puppies
lubricant
fuzzy socks
candy
heat
indoor plumbing and soft paper
sharp knives (in the kitchen)
hot bread
sight
a tight vagina even after 2 children
electricity
penises (aren't they lovely!)
pain killers
lavender
wine
books!!!!
the ability to read
magic
big nipples
my husband's height and stoic nature
flowers
orgasms
laughter

But mostly, I'm grateful for those who have loved and helped me. I know I'm not an easy person to love or understand sometimes. I'm moody, introspective, complicated and accident prone. So - to the following (in absolutely no order)- both still living and those who have passed on - thank you.

Scott, Michael, Nicholas, Terry, Anna, Rose, Emmitt, Marilyn, Justine, Christine, Shari, Dale, Roger, Melvin, Erin, Cole, Donna, Greg, Reba, Bethany, Pete, Ray, Nicki, Claire, David, Mrs. Hawley, Blanche, Mark, Karen, Karen (yep - there's two of them), Kendra, Matt, Jane, Nona, Art, Brian, Richard, and so many, many more. Thank you.

Burning control

2011-11-11T13:32:00.000-06:00

What in the blood hell had she been thinking? I told her to leave off the panties, wear a corset and dress and have her hair loose. Now look at her - simpering on the bed all curled up in the fetal position, her ass so bright I can see it reflecting the moonlight.
She asked for this. Verbally and non verbally, she'd asked for this. When I came home her was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her hair up in a tight ponytail. She'd smirked at me as turned away, wiggling her ass so I could see the panty line beneath the too tight denim. I'd grabbed her hair and pulled her against me.
"You trying to tell me something?" I'd asked.

"Maybe you need to assert a little more control over me," she'd countered.

So I had. Within moments, I'd pulled the band from her ponytail and ripped the offending clothes from her body. She'd not struggled, but rather laughed. This infuriated me.

I'd pushed her over the table in kitchen, told her to keep her hands flat on the table and whipped off my belt. Mercy was not expected nor given. There was no gentle warm up. From the first swipe of my heavy belt, she'd cringed and her skin glowed red. After 10 minutes of this treatment, I heard her crying.
"Okay, Okay. Maybe I went a little overboard," she admitted.

"A little late admitting that, don't you think," I answered.

She didn't answer, but I saw her nod her head in silent acceptance.

I pulled out a chair and sat down, dragging her across my lap. She didn't struggle or complain. I have to admit, this is my favorite routine. Her hot ass, already tender, response in quivering anticipation to my firm and hard hand. I work with my hands, so they're strong and somewhat callused, perfect for administering a spanking. Eventually, her legs kicked and she cried. She wiggled, vainly trying to pull away from her punishment. I ignored her pleas and continued. She was right. I needed to assert control of her more often and more firmly.

When I'd finished and my hand was numb, I slid her to the floor where she pressed her forehead against my legs.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Pleased, I helped her up and walked her to the bedroom, placing her on the bed so she could nurse her pride.

She thinks it's over. She thinks she has the night to contemplate and recover.

Poor little thing, I think as I peel the long finger of ginger with a sharp knife. The night has just begun.

Winter Blues

2011-11-08T21:34:00.000-06:00

It's coming up on winter and this makes me sad. I bundle up since I'm usually freezing in my house.

The sun sleeps later than I do and goes to bed sometimes before I leave work.

The holidays are coming, and while I love cooking for Thanksgiving (my favorite holiday), I'm remind of the people I loved who are no longer with me, of the over commercialization of tradition and plague by cheerful holiday songs on the radio.

Soon, I'll have to scrap ice off my car and trudge through inches of snow - no easy feat in heels!

Shopping will soon be a bitch - even for simple items like milk or socks.

I'll get the flu, despite getting the flu shot.

Please, someone, tell me what joy I have to look forward to in the next few months!!

Let's Play a bit more

2011-10-26T18:46:00.000-05:00

She was beautiful. I still couldn't believe my luck. I mean I figured Lisa would lose our bet but I never thought that she'd follow through. But here she was, naked as a j-bird and lying across my lap, her white ass shining up at me just begging to be spanked. I was sitting on the edge of a picnic table next to my camper under a canopy of fall leaves. The sun was warm but the air cool and I intended to take full advantage of all the beauty nature had to offer, especially Lisa's natural grace.

"Last chance to back out," I offered. No one could say I wasn't a gentleman.
"No, sir," Lisa answered. "I lost the bet and I will pay my dues. Besides," she added tipping her head to grin at me, "this is awfully exciting, isn't it? I think I'm going to like being dominated."

That's it. My cock sprung to full staff and I was afraid for a moment I would cream my pants. Instead, I brought my hand down full force on her lovely cheek. Lisa jumped and squealed a bit but didn't utter one complaint. I picked up the pace and landed blow after blow until my hand ached as badly as my cock and her ass was a bright red. I didn't think it possible for her to be more beautiful that before, but she was. I steeled myself to be strong.

"Now that you're warmed up, get on your knees, unzip my pants and suck," I demanded.

Lisa sniffed a bit but quickly obeyed. She pulled my rock hard cock out and her warm, wet lips kissed the tip. I thought I'd explode, but that would have disappointed us both. So I gritted my teeth and held onto my control. I grasped her ponytail and forced her mouth down to my balls. She gagged a bit, but opened her mouth wider and sucked. I must have been half-way down her throat but she was a good little slave girl and didn't complain. Instead, she cradled my balls in her soft hands and pumped her mouth up and down, matching the movements of my hips. It was perfect. I felt my balls tighten and fucked her mouth even harder. Just when I was about to cum, I pulled out, spraying my load over her face and tits. One perfect drop of semen clung to her left nipple.

Lisa sat back on her heels, a look of pure joy on her face. She smiled, her eyes glowing with pride.

She was going to love the plug!

"How else may I pay my debt?" she meekly asked.

Let's Play

2011-10-18T17:39:00.000-05:00

I knew I was in for it when I agreed to spend the weekend with Caleb. He owned a rather large patch of land covered by trees, a lovely pond and meadows. We'd played poker and I, stupidly, had agreed to his bet - if I won, he'd be my person slave for the weekend and do nothing but seek my pleasure, including taking me shopping. If he won, I'd go spend 2 nights with him in his camper, completely devoid of electricity, electronics or any other modern conveniences, plus, I'd be his slave. Needles to say - I lost.

"Welcome to your humble abode," he welcomed me. I glanced around at the old camper and decided it wasn't all bad. The metal framed structure boasted a table, bench seats, a propane stove top and double bed. No shower. No bathroom. But at least I wouldn't be sleeping on the ground. Plus, the weather man had predicted a perfect weekend so I wouldn't be freezing my ass off or sweating like a pig.

"Not bad," I answered, flopping down onto the bed. "Not bad at all."
He grinned at me smugly and I became nervous. "What?" I asked

"You did agree to absolutely no modern conveniences, remember?"
I nodded, suddenly cautious.
"You trust me, right?"
"Of course. We've been friends for 10 years, but what are you up to?"
"By no modern conveniences, I meant absolutely none. No phone, no radio, no electricity, no clothing, no shoes. You will be completely vulnerable and open to me in every way."
I hesitated before answering. Did I really want to be that dependent on another person? Before I could gather my thoughts, though, I realized I was wet. My body had made my decision for me.

Caleb must have guessed my answer because he just stood there, a smile on his face and held out his hand. I stood and undressed, handing over all every stitch I had on. I stood naked before him. He nodded and pulled out a handful of condoms, tossing them carelessly onto the table.

Let the Games Begin.

2011-10-12T19:36:00.000-05:00

Wanda asked for this. She needed this.

Clutter carpeted the lovely hardwood floors of her home and dust blanketed the beautiful antique end tables. Her home reflected her exquisite tastes, but her lack of discipline in keeping up with household tasks hide the beauty and uniqueness of her treasures to the point where she no longer enjoyed her trinkets. Living alone, Wanda knew of no good reason aside from laziness for the mess, and so she had e-mailed a request to David.

When she first met David, she had been a scrawny 10 year old with more attitude than sense. David had been a 14 year old neighbor who didn't tolerate bullying. So when he witnessed several of the older boys in the neighborhood throwing rocks at Wanda, he'd taken matters into his own hands. Over the course of the next 25 years, he had become her best friend, confidante, protector, lover and disciplinarian in all matter, both big and small.

He sat on her couch, amid the clutter, and frowned at her.
"Position yourself," he instructed.
Wanda sighed. When she had e-mailed David, she knew he would be stern with her primarily because she herself had requested disciplining. Now that the moment had arrived, however, she bit her lip in consternation.

"You need this, young lady. Now don't make make me wait," he said with an edge to his voice.

Not meeting his eyes, Wanda stripped and positioned herself over his knees, her hands braced against the floor for balance.

"When was the last time you cleaned?" he asked as he gently rubber her exposed cheeks.

"I did laundry last week," she answered meekly.

Smack! Wanda jumped and squealed.

"In July," she amended quickly. "I cleaned everything in July."

David paused a moment then said, "So roughly 90 days ago. Fine. We will begin with that."

Wanda hung her head and stiffled a sigh. 90 swats. And they would not be gentle. David was never gentle when it came to a discipline session. Her only hope was that his hand would grown sore and he would ease up on the force of his blows.

"Lucky for you, my slovenly maid, I have a wonderful new leather paddle. Ready?"
Wanda swallowed her last bit of hope for a respite and nodded.

"Yes, Sir. I'm ready."

Masturbation

2011-09-03T12:56:00.000-05:00

Okay. I have a confession to make. I rarely masturbate. Why, you may ask? Probably because as a child/teenager I was taught that "touching yourself" was a sin and then as an adult I was submissive enough to believe that my precious almond actually belonged to my husband and I had no right to "use" it. (For the record, he NEVER said or even implied this! My own twisted mind came up with that one!) So now, at the ripe old age of - an experienced 26 year old - I'm just now discovering how to masturbate and I gotta say, in all honesty, I'm not very good at it.

I've tried the following methods with very limited success.
hands and fingers (of course!)
vibrator
bullet vibrator
in the tub
in the shower
with the shower massager
a jet in the hot tub (this is the most successful, but is it really masturbation if the jet does all the work?)
tingly lube with above toys and fingers.

Honestly, I'm stumped and frustrated and feeling a bit like a failure! I want to include more masturbation scenes in my writing, but I'm lacking success and experience. Therefore - I'd really appreciate any suggestions!

Magical Milwaukee

2011-08-24T14:56:00.000-05:00

Who knew Milwaukee was such a happening town???? Honestly, I linked Milwaukee with Happy Days and beer, and since I don't drink much beer, I'd never considered visiting the city. MY MISTAKE!!! Hubby and I went there last weekend to enjoy Irish Fest - which was TOTALLY AWESOME!!!! I now understand a friend's fascination for live music - something I've never really had the time or money for. At the Fest, though, you couldn't walk 20 feet without hearing live music. Patrick Ball on harp, Gaelic Storm, Red Hot Chili Pipers, Screaming Orphans - just to name a few. We loved the Fest Friday night, but when we left we weren't quite ready to head back to the hotel. Sooooo, we found this fabulous bar (yea, me in a bar - that rarely happens) - Stir and met some wonderful folks included the bartender, Nick, and the owner, Jerome. If I didn't live 6 hours away, I'd go back every weekend!

We also chatted up a guy at the bar who owned a boat - he was really cool and interesting! Anywho - he gave hubby a length of rope since apparently, it was fairly useless on the boat. Hubby, naturally, put it to good use. He tied my wrists together and the guys at the bar laughed and joked about how long it would take for me to spill my drink down my blouse (You might recall that I'm a bit on the clumsy side). Hah! Showed them! didn't spill a drop!

So, we closed the place down and went back the next night for more fun and laughs and an introduction to a new drink - Rumchata - YUM!!!!

Oh, and did I mention in between the Fest, the bar, the music, the food and the lovely city sites, we also enjoyed totally wonderful hotel sex complete with a bit of spanking (yes, we're trying a bit of light BDSM again) and a whole lot of hotness.

I love Milwaukee.

Hottness

2011-08-18T16:37:00.000-05:00

First, let me apologize for the delay between posts. I took the summer off. Some good things happened this summer - another book - Discovering Pleasure - was accepted by Total-e-bound and should be available in January. I'm now anxiously awaiting the editor's comments so I can get busy polishing the text. For most of the summer, though, I've focused on family - my oldest landed a PAID internship, my youngest became an Eagle scout and, thanks to an internet ordination site which will remain nameless, became an internet minister ordained to perform marriages and baptisms. Unfortunately, the hot, humid weather has done a number on my lungs and I've been trapped inside a little too much and have become unaccountable lazy. However, I was able to read all five books of the Game of Thrones series! (Excellent books!)

Now that I've made my excuses, let's talk summer. Summer is the time for HOTTNESS. So - what makes you hot? Here are a few things that usually do it for me.
1.. LIAM NEESON - OH MY FUCKING HORMONES!!!
2. a deep, sexy, slow voice

3. sweaty, glistening, buff male chests
4. laughing so hard I cry
5. ice cream
6. Within Temptation

So - what makes you hot?

Difficult questions

2011-07-02T13:54:00.000-05:00

Recently I've been asked a few difficult but challenging questions which I thought I'd share.

What is you get out of being submissive?

Good question. I've debated over and over again whether I actually am submissive or not and I still don't have the answer. But a large draw of submission, at least to my mind, is the freedom and liberation of having to make one choice: yes or no. In my "real" life I have a lot going on - most people do! I analyze and make decisions based upon the information available at the time and my own judgement of a situation. This can become mentally exhausting and when my partner "takes control" I no longer have to actively plan, analyze or prepare. I can just enjoy or, if I don't enjoy, say Stop. Besides, I derive extreme pleasure in knowing that I have pleased my partner whether it's how I dress or giving a mind blowing BJ. I'm not sure that this indicates submissive behavior or simple courtesy, but it is what it is.

What would you want to do if you could do anything?

When I was asked this question all I did was blink stupidly. The sad truth came like a bolt of lightening - I had no idea. I don't do much for myself besides reading lots and lots of book, taking an occasional really long bubble bath and drinking sometimes copious amounts of alcohol (okay - maybe that is really just a form of escape). I go out with friends and, weather permitting, hike and I while I certainly enjoy these activities, that really wasn't the point of the question. All I could think of was check on my mom, make sure the family is taken care of, feed the dog, earn enough money to support us all. So now I'm thinking about this. I've always wanted to learn how to throw pots and learn how to dance (went to a class once and had a panic attack, though) but I really just don't know - which brings up my question to all of you.

If YOU could do anything you wanted to do just for yourself, what would it be?

Cancun Resort

2011-07-01T13:25:00.000-05:00

We just got back last night from a quickie vacation at El Dorado Royale, an all-inclusive hot spot specializing in romance. This was the first time we had ever been to Mexico but it better not be the last! WAY too much fun went on over the course of 4 days and 3 nights for one blog, so I'm going to focus on the food in the entry. Mr. Martinez, the owner of the resort, wisely decided to serve only gourmet food at his place. OMG!!!!

Let me just say that I think I had somewhere in the neighborhood of about 14 orgasms just tasting the food alone! All the produce is grown on-site so it's delectably fresh. The quantities are perfect for several courses and the wait staff was impeccable. The choices ranged from Italian to Pacific Rim to International and everything in between.

I need to go now - I just got wet again looking at all these pictures - so - um - maybe I'd better take care of myself !!

More to come later.

2011-06-25T15:51:00.000-05:00

I love Shakespeare. Big surprise huh??? But why? Is it because of his timeless themes - love, hate, jealousy, war, greed? Is it because of his clever sexual innuendos? (LOVE THOSE!!!) Is it the costumes - I do have an affinity for corsets on women and men in tights. What better way to highlight the delightful silhouettes of the human form? Whatever the reason, his words and vision speaks to my very soul.

Shattered

2011-06-15T20:16:00.000-05:00

And when a heart shatters how can it heal?
Like a broken mirror the shards disperse
skid against the hard ground
and hide in secret crevices

Shatter and broken
How can it mend
Shattered and broken
never the same again

taped back together
a reflection is possible again
but cracks remain visible
wounds that will not heal
and strength is not gained from pain.

Shattered and broken
How can it mend
Shattered and broken
never the same again

Believe what you must
to get through the day
but trust and love once give
can never be taken away.

Shattered and broken
How can it mend
Shattered and broken

never the same again.

Rainy Day

2011-06-14T10:47:00.000-05:00

The rain created a steady tattoo against the window pain and Angie burrowed deeper beneath the covers. Rainy days made her want to stay in bed. She wasn't tired, but feeling rather lazy.

"Not getting up today?"
Angie stretched languidly.

"I'd rather not."

"There are consequences you know."

Angie grinned. "Oh I do hope so."

He smiled as well as he walked around the bed testing the restraints he'd custom made for her.

"Spread eagle."

Angie didn't hesitate. She opened her arms and legs in perfect V's while He gently bound her to the bed. Now, she was his captive. She couldn't leave the bed even if she wanted to without his permission.

"Lazy girls need to learn discipline."
"Indeed."
He ran his hand up her right leg until he reached the apex. Then he gently began to thump her clit with one finger. She jumped and began to squirm a bit, but her restraints allowed for only the most minute movements.

"Please," she whispered.

"Discipline"

He pulled out a bullet vibrator and placed it deep within her womb.She pulled against her bindings and began to beg, but he simply laughed and turned the vibrator on full blast.

"Enjoy your day," he said simply before he adjusted his tie and left for his work day.

Summer Rain

2011-06-11T11:08:00.000-05:00

Last night hubby and I decide to head out to the CWE to check out 2 new bars/pubs. At the first, Dressel's has a distinctive English pub feel to it. I sampled a beer that hubby had ordered - NASTY!!! (of course, I'm not a beer drinker, so what did I expect?) The kind bartender laughed and gave me a cheese stuffed olive to wash the taste out before serving me a lovely Grenache wine. He told us the dinner specials - ALL of which sounded divine and we ordered portabella mushroom fries and mussels. Excellent food!

Then, we walked several blocks down to Brennan's on Maryland where one can peruse the racks of wine, purchase the entire bottle or choose a beverage from their impressive selection. I bought a bottle of red wine title "Writer's Block" - go figure - and sipped a lovely smokey scotch. Just as we were finishing, though, we heard thunder and hubby suggested we down the drinks and head back to the car or we'd be trapped there for about an hour.

TOO LATE!! The rain had begun. We couldn't run since I had on pretty little summer sandals with 2 inch heels, so we walked quickly. Within the first block, my hair resembled that of a wet poodle and the bottom half of my bright green sundress was soaked. By the second block, the dress was pretty much wet all over and I was beginning to shiver. By block number 3, my nipples stuck out about 6 inches (hyperbole!) and we were garnering quite a bit of attention from the bars we passed. We were also giggling like 4 year olds playing in the rain. By the time we reached my car, we were both soaked to the skin and my teeth were chattering. So, hubby, being the gallant man he is, turned on the heat, the heated seats and told me to take off the dress. IN THE MIDDLE OF CWE???? Why not. So, I slid into the car, took off the dress and wrapped up in a handy towel for the drive home.

Gotta admit, I was warmer once dried off somewhat. What a fun night!

Vacation ideas?

2011-06-03T12:29:00.000-05:00

So as it turns out, hubby and I actually have the opportunity to go on a mini (3-5 day) vacation all by our lonesome selves (yay!!!). We've thought about New Orleans - which I LOVE! but it's summer and I have asthma. We thought about Kansas City - which is fun - but we've been there a few times before. So, we're thinking of one of those last minute deal things but since we've never done that before, I was hoping some you might have advice and/or opinions. I'd prefer warmth, sun, water, pretty cabana boys serving me fruity drinks with an umbrella in them. Hubby would prefer I be totally naked at all times or at least close to naked, music and food available.

Suggestions??

A short excerpt

2011-06-01T09:53:00.000-05:00

So this is what I was working on yesterday - it's a very first draft of a short segment for the book I'm hoping to finish soon.

Alicia stood and followed Maverick, her head bowed, to the centre of the room where a single rope dangled from a pulley. Alicia meekly waited while Vincent brought out several lengths of neatly coiled rope. Maverick unrolled one coil and pulled Alicia’s arms behind her back. Carefully and neatly, he secured her wrists with an intricate set of knots that looked more like lacing than bondage. Next, he snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor. Alicia immediately dropped to her knees and crossed her ankles. Rose wondered at her grace and balance, fascinated by the performance.

Again, Maverick laced another rope around her delicate ankles, firmly securing them. Alicia didn’t move. She knelt with her back perfectly straight, her arms and ankles bound together. Maverick stood before her, lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her deeply. When he lifted his face from his slave’s, Rose could see the pride shining in Alicia’s eyes. Next, Maverick nudged Alicia’s knees further apart and placed a spreader bar between them, buckling them in place. Finally, he attached the centre rope to her bound wrists, walked jauntily to the wall where the opposite end of the rope was secured to a hook and slowly pulled. Inch by inch, Alicia’s arms were pulled up, forcing her to bend at the waist, her hair falling forward and creating a curtain which hid her face. When her head rested on the floor, her arms pointing upward, Maverick secured the rope, thus holding her in place. Then, he stood next to his wife, bent down, gently patted her head then stood and held her upraised hands. Alicia sighed and intertwined her fingers with her master's.

Rose added her applause to the rest, marvelling at Alicia’s flexibility and endurance. She looked perfectly beautiful.

“How long will she stay like that?” Rose whispered to Nathan.

“As long as Maverick chooses or until she uses her safe word I’d imagine,” he answered.

Random pictures I like

2011-05-31T10:49:00.000-05:00

Note: Pictures have been re-printed from photobucket or taken by me.

Anticipate

2011-05-30T10:31:00.000-05:00

He touched her. Just his hand on her upper arm, but that was enough. She shivered, felt her heart quicken and sighed. She knew nothing more intimate was forthcoming, but she couldn't control her reaction to him no matter how much she tried.

"You okay?" he asked.

His voice caused her to catch her breath and his scent made her pussy pulse.

"I'm fine," she answered knowing full well that she wasn't. But now was not the time nor the place. Perhaps that time and place would never come, but in the meantime, she'd savour each moment, each touch, each word he gave her and anticipate the rest.

Sometimes, fantasy and dreams were what kept her alive.

A Boy's Journey through the eyes of his mother

2011-05-16T20:40:00.000-05:00

Fair Warning: This writing will be devoid of sex but brimming with love,

From the time of his conception, my son was different. I knew I was pregnant when the boob fairy came - that mean, spiteful fairy who graces the expectant mother with beautiful, enormous breasts but makes them so tender and sensitive that the gentlest breeze or the softest silk brings pain. He stayed awake all night, kicking and squirming and hiccuping. He gave his poor mother no rest. He had his own sense of time. Eight weeks before he was due see the light of day, I bled. And bled. And bled. I was diagnosed with placenta previa, placed on bedrest, had a home monitor to which I had to strap myself twice a day and take two different drugs every three hours - day and night. Despite these precautions, he still came 4 weeks early and weighed in at 8 pounds. While I was still out of my mind from the emergency C-section, he was whisked away from me, tubes pushed down his throat to help him breath and taken to Cardinal Glennon Hospital where, for the next 3 days, he survived but did not thrive. Finally, I was released from the hospital and allowed to go visit my baby. I couldn't walk far, so the orderlies at Glennon found a wheel chair for me and pushed up to the ICU so that I could, for the first time, hold my newborn.

Many mothers say this, but truly, he was the most beautiful baby I'd seen - almost. His only rival was his older brother, who loved him dearly despite never having seen him. He had a tiny patch of strawberry blonde hair and angry blue eyes. He was hungry. I had been pumping breast milk for three days for him, my husband delivering it to him. Now, I would feed him. His nurse unhooked from most of his monitors. Luckily, he'd only needed to be intubated for a short period of time and no longer had that tube down his throat. I held him, a perfect, warm gift. I held him to my breast and he suckled, demanding what was rightfully his. As he gobbled down his milk, I began to hum and then sing to him, a song that I had sung often while I was pregnant with him. I felt him twitch a little, pause in his dining and respond.

After that, he began to thrive. And thrive. And thrive. He grew into a fine toddler and has provided me with years of stories - gluing a guinea pig to the dog, climbing on top of the refrigerator, watching the Three Stooges and laughing hysterically. By the time he was 2, however, I knew something wasn't quite right. He didn't speak. He could make sounds and say maybe 40 words, but few could comprehend them. He was, as it turned out, severely speech delayed. I learned signing for him and he communicated quite well. Around the time he turned 6 or so, he was speaking in full sentences and had a vocabulary of someone twice his age. Still, he was a bit fussy and had difficulty sleeping. Music, though, soothed him.

He was a terrible organizer, hated bathing and did not comprehend the importance of cleanliness. He was a boy. When he was 10 I arranged for two older friends to teach him trumpet and saxophone since he wanted to play an instrument but couldn't decide which he preferred. After a year, he decided. The Saxophone. He was now a Boy Scout and an asset to the school band. He was also taller than me.

High school came and new challenges. He didn't make the best of grades, but he laughed often. He had lots of friends and one best friend who, I have not doubt, will remain his friend for life. He worked summers as a Boy Scout counselor and during the school year to improve his musical skills. He gained a girlfriend and lost his heart. He gained a second girlfriend who makes him happy, but he'll always have a soft spot for the first.

Now, in just a few days, he will graduate from high school and celebrate his 18th birthday. He plans on going to college and majoring in music education so that he can become a high school band director. The time it has taken me to write this essay seems not much shorter than the time it has taken to raise him. Last week (or so it seems) he was a pre-mature baby with weak lungs and an insatiable hunger. Now, he's a proficient camper, a compassionate friend, a clever comedian and a creative musician.

My baby has become a man.

Book Review

2011-05-09T20:17:00.000-05:00

Recently I read The Reluctant Dom by Tymber Dalton. OMG!! What a fabulous read!! I rather think that anyone currently living in the BDSM lifestyle or even considering visiting for a while truly should invest in this book. I know it's fiction, but Dalton has truly captured the nature of a healthy BDSM relationship. The main characters ooze credibility and the circumstances surrounding the training poignant to say the least. I laughed, I cringed, I got wet and played with myself, I cried - all signs of a terrific read.

My rating - BURNING with 4 flames.

I've always wanted to (partially fiction)

2011-05-03T21:10:00.000-05:00

I've always wanted to:
   sing beautifully
   turn a perfect cartwheel
   draw
   take a man anywhere, any time, for as long as he likes
   be worshiped
   have an organized closet
   have a book on a best-seller list
   be loved unconditionally
   have perfect teeth
   stay naked for a whole week
   live in a nudist colony
   live in a commune
   live in peace
   smile every day
   have a life-long friend
   live in Ireland
   dance beneath the stars
   be touched in some way for an entire day
   have all my socks match up
   know I pleased my partner.

So - what do you want?

Learning Manners - Part 2

2011-04-25T15:38:00.000-05:00

William's eyes feasted on his wife's lush body but he controlled his desires. She'd been demanding and bratty for long enough. It was high time she learned some manners. He grabbed her hair and held it tightly, not enough to hurt her. He didn't want that, he just wanted her to acknowledge his dominance.

"You, Miss Amelia, will learn to be polite, respectful and grateful whether you like it or not," he told her, pleased by the darkening of her eyes. Noticing her nipples hardening as well, William guessed she was just as excited as he.

He leaned close to her ear and said, "Here's what's going to happen. I am going to sit on this chair and place you over my lap. I'm going to spank you until I decide you've had enough and then you are going to be grounded to your room until further notice."

Now, he saw anger and disbelief in her eyes.
"You wouldn't dare," she snarled.

William released her hair, sat down and dragged her across his lap. She squealed and kicked and shouted, but was no match for his greater strength. He wrapped his leg over hers and landed a resounding smack on her white globe. He fully expected her to shout obscenities at him, but after her first gasp of surprise, she quieted. He continued to spank her until her ass was a bright, fiery red and she hung limply over his lap. Her reaction shocked him. She'd accepted the humiliation of being spanked much more willingly than he'd ever expected. He flipped her over and held her gently in his arms.

"You did well," he complimented. "Much better than I expected."
"Oh, William," Amelia quietly sobbed. "I'm such a brat. This is exactly what I need. Please, sweetheart. Please make love to me."

William considered. Was this really what his lovely wife needed? To be disciplined? He reached down and played with her glistening mound. Sure enough, she was oozing sweet juices. Still, if she needed discipline, now was not the time to give in to her demands.

"When I decide to, my love, I will. I believe I told you that you'd be confined to your room, correct?" he asked.
Silently, she nodded.
"Then go to your room, lie on your tummy so that red ass is fully exposed, and stay there until I tell you otherwise. While you're lying there, I want you to fully consider your behavior and come up with a plan to atone for your actions. If I approve of the plan, I'll make love to you. If not, I'll administer another spanking and you will try again. Understand?" he informed her.

"Yes, William," she answered as she stood and began walking to the bedroom.

Suddenly, she stopped, turned around and said, "And thank you, William. I love you."

2011-04-21T17:04:00.000-05:00

She was impatient. She wanted more. More money. More jewels. More shoes. More sex. And, she wanted it NOW. Deep inside herself, Amelia could feel the tendrils of a fabulous temper tantrum forming. Sure, William gave her everything she asked for, but why should she have to ask? He should just know what she wanted and see that she received. She paced. He was late getting home. Growling slightly, she plopped down onto the couch, crossed her arms over her ample chest and pouted.

William grinned as he slowly drove home. Amelia would be in a ripe mood when he finally got home. And pissed. Then again, she was pissed often these days. That was likely to change and the best part - she had no idea what was in store for her. They had been married for just over a year and in all that time, he'd done everything she'd wanted him to do. He'd given her diamonds, a car, a housekeeper, but nothing seemed to satisfy his Amelia. Tonight, he planned to change that.

"You're late," Amelia shouted petulantly.
Rather than answering her, William grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. The surprised look on her face pleased him greatly. He crushed her lips beneath his in a savage kiss. When he finally pulled away, she gazed up at him, speechless.

"I will come home when I choose to come home my little wife. And you, young lady, are about to learn a lesson in manners. Take off your clothes," he ordered.

"Are you crazy?" she answered.

"I have been but that's all changing tonight. Now, do as I say or I'll do it for you," he warned darkly.
"You wouldn't."

William smiled. For some reason, this was exactly the answer he'd hoped for. He looked into her defiant eyes and saw a glimmer of arousal. This pleased him greatly.

Grasping the neckline of her light summer dress in both of his strong hands, he pulled with all his might. The cloth ripped apart easily, revealing her luscious body. She gasped and he felt his cock harden.

Things that Piss me off

2011-04-12T19:22:00.000-05:00

1. Flying insects that bite me.

2. Going dry when I want to Go On.

3. No lip kissing

4. Intentional poor grammar for the purpose of being "cute". It isn't. Just stop.

5. Men who think their dick's are huge when they are really average.

6. Women who think no man can resist their physical charms.

7. Flies.

8. Tardiness.

9. Panties that creep.

10. Paper Cuts.

RT - A Robe!

2011-04-07T09:06:00.000-05:00

I'm a baby. I admit it. Flying, hell, travelling in general freaks me out. I think I'm getting better - I only cried a few while packing, re-packed about 3 times and hyperventilated only a dozen or so times when hubby took me to the airport. See - better. The flight was fine - fairly smooth an I actually got a wing-seat (which people have told are the safest) and napped a bit despite the seat not reclining (which people neglected to mention). Made it to the RT Convention hotel after an hour and a half shuttle ride, successfully navigated registration and easily found my room (no small feat for someone who has trouble tell her right from her left!)

The room is beautiful. Small, but exquisite in its petiteness - something a petite woman can understand. The, THEN. I saw it!!! Something I've always wanted to indulge in but never have - that's right - you guessed it - A HOTEL WHITE ROBE!!!!

Giggling with glee, I rushed to unpack and fill the tub with hot water, soak for a bit, shaved my legs and then - I enveloped my still damp body in THE ROBE. I felt very princess like! This morning, guess what the first thing was that I grabbed - coffee? nope. a vibrator? nope. the alarm clock? nope.

That's right - THE ROBE!!!

Submission vs. Masocisim

2011-04-03T15:25:00.000-05:00

Here's a question to ponder. Does a person who has submissive tendencies necessarily also have tendencies of masochism? Personally, I don't thing the two are intrinsically intertwined. If you have been following this blog, you know that I've been submissiveness for some time. I've finally decided that I am not submissive and I do not in any way, shape or form, like labels. However, I am a pleaser. I will go to almost any length to please my partner - or at least I did until last summer. At that time, I'd had my fill of pain. Now for all you pain sluts out there - hey, if that is what gets you off, fabulous! I make no claims to know what is right for everyone. On the contrary, I'm struggling to know what's right for ME so how in the holy hell could I possibly iknow what is right for someone else???? As long as everything is, as the BDSM policy states, safe, sane and consensual, I think that folks have the right to do whatever makes them happy!

Still, I've pulled away from my local BDSM community because it just seems that so many people, especially dominants, equate submissive with pain. Sorry folks, but that's just not the case. Because I choose to go down on my knees to suck a luscious cock, to cook hubby's favorite meal, to wear or not wear certain articles of clothing because that pleases him, does NOT mean I am a pain slut. Honestly, I've endured and continue to endure quite enough physical and emotional pain in my life. When I was only 17 years old I damn near died from a tosellectomy, had all four wisdom teeth cut out at the same time, have had 3 knee surgeries (one of which involved slicing open the leg bone, detaching a tendon and then screwing it all back together_, birthing a 9 pound 3 ounce boy without benefit of drugs, having a c-section for an 8 pound one month early baby, asthma, appendectomy, intense menstral cramps that 800 milligrams of motrin did nothing to alleviate, so on and so forth. I can handle pain. I simply choose to no longer voluntarily submit to it for another person pleasure.

So in answer to my question, I truly do not believe that submission and masocism are interchangeable labels. Your opinion????

My first kiss - autobiography

2011-03-29T18:32:00.000-05:00

I was 14. A scared freshmen in high school desperate to look "cool" and fit in with the older sophomores. I was also in chorus (a first soprano) along with my older brother who was well liked, so I was able to tag along with him and hang out with his friends - one of who was the cutest boy I'd ever seen. He was tall, had beautiful blue eyes and a blonde afro that stuck out past his shoulders (okay, so this may have been a few years back, but it was really, really hot then!!). We had just finished up an after school rehearsal when this mean girl - why is there always a mean girl???- started making fun of me because I had never been kissed and was rather naive. David overheard her and noticed I was starting to tear up. It really didn't take much to make me cry! He draped an arm around my shoulder, pulled me against him and asked the bitch what difference it made to her. She also had a crush on him and didn't know what to say. Then, he angled me toward him and kissed me. Not just a peck. No. He slowly brushed his soft lips against mine. He reached behind me, rubbed my back and cupped my head in his strong hands. Instinctively, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. He pulled me in closer and pressed a bit more strongly against my lips. I felt his mouth open slightly and, being a quick learner, followed his lead. Then, then, his tongue ticked my lips. I moaned. I'd read about this in hundreds of Harlequin Romance novels!!! I thought I would die since my heart began to beat about a million miles a second and I was terrified I'd peed my pants because for some reason, my panties felt damp (have I mentioned I was taught sex ed. by nuns and was incredibly stupid!!!)

The kiss went on and on. Really. The bitch was timing it. 8 minutes later, David came up for air and I had stairs in eyes and creamy, wet thighs. I was hooked. Kissing became my all-time favorite erotic activity. Seriously, I have had orgasms - rock my world and spin my head around orgasms - just from a kiss.

So - David, I can't imagine you'd ever read this since you're now a fine, upstanding husband, father and Christian, but if you do - I want to thank you. You rank as one of the the best kissers of all time and gave me a special gift - a true appreciation for the dynamics, romanticism and eroticism of a kiss.

What's Your Favorite Kink?

2011-03-22T20:44:00.000-05:00

Recently I was asked what was my favorite kink? I had no idea how to answer. At one time, might have said spanking. Another time perhaps anal. But then I thought, No, while I did enjoy those things, I mainly did them to please my dominant - not that he ever forced me to do anything - I simply chose to do things that I knew would please him whether I was "in the mood" or not. But, as followers of this blog may recall, I've recently discovered/decided/acknowledged that I'm not really a submissive, but more of a pleaser/caretaker. With that in mind, the questions comes back around: What is my favorite kink?

Answer: Sensuality. I love sensual play. The touch of cold silk, warm lips, tender fingers, a firm tug on my hair, a gentle hand against my back. The taste of sweet lobster, dry wine or creamy chocolate. The sexy sound of a saxophone, the driving beat of a bass or the haunting voice of Loreena McKennet. I love all of these.

So, what's your favorite kink?

I miss

2011-03-10T18:23:00.000-06:00

I miss flowers and the sweetness of fragrance
the softness of petals and the touch of the sun

I miss the gentle breeze lifting my hair and the hem of my skirt
to tease and tickle my neck and thighs

I miss the easiness of a carefree smile
\and the sound of my own laughter

I miss strong arms wrapping around me

with unconditional love and acceptance

I miss warmth.

Soon

2011-03-02T20:19:00.000-06:00

I know it's been a while since I've put up a new post, and I sincerely apologize, but some things have been going on in my personal life that have taken precedence. So, I ask for your patience and forgiveness. Soon, soon I will be able to concentrate and write again.

Name that Picture.photo

2011-02-17T19:39:00.002-06:00

photo taken by Jane Van der Kuill

"In the End"

2011-02-13T18:59:00.000-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2n-6uyMV9-0

Lost in your voice.

2011-02-10T18:54:00.000-06:00

Size does matter. I don't care what they say - size matter. Now, bigger is not necessarily better because I'm a bit on the small size and too big means it doesn't fit well. But he has the perfect size. When he nudges my head down his chest toward his penis, I know it will fit beautifull. I could hold him in my mouth all day and never get a sore jaw. But that's just not good enough. I need to suck. I need to pull against the head and suck on him. Press my tongue against his shaft, cradle his balls and draw him down my throat. Then, then I hear his moan of pleasure and I get wet. I love the sound of your voice. Hell, my nipples get hard whenever I think about your voice much less actually hear it.

Then, then you tug on my hair. Gently, but firmly and I know you've had enough of my mouth. You want my pussy. And it's wet and hot and ready for you. So I climb on top of you. Damn but you look good. I kiss you. Your lips, your cheeks, your neck. I could happily turn into a fucking vampire for you - that's how much I love kissing your neck.

But I need to focus. You want me to ride you and I want to please you so I slid onto your spear. Size matters. And you're perfect. You fit - and yes I know it's a cliche' - like a glove. Immediately, instantaeously, you cock hits my g-spot and I begin to quiver. I try to focus, but it's so hard. I try to ride you. To please you. But it's hard. You feel so goddamned good.

You know this and I hear you laugh just a bit. I know you're pleased and feeling proud of yourself. You should. You're incredible.

Then. Then you do it. You give me an order. You tell me what to do. You use your voice to push me over the edge.

"Come for me. Do it."

photo by Michael Draga

I'm lost.

200 - Maintenance

2011-02-06T21:11:00.000-06:00

I hear him come into the house and immediately pour his wine then set his plated dinner on the table. I've already eaten. Normally, we eat together like a regular couple, but not on maintenance night. On this night, I choose to serve him. He comes into the dining room, kisses me and sits at the table to enjoy his dinner while I stand quietly behind him. He finishes, thanks me, and I clear the table while he re-locates to the turned chair.

I come back into the room and he pats his lap. I smile gratefully and position myself. He rubs the vitamin E only on my ass - which soothes the skin but also ensures that I will feel each blow administered. I brace my hands against the floor and close my eyes. The touch of his hand on my naked skin has already caused my heart to beat faster and my pussy to moisten. I hear him chuckle a bit and know that he is well aware of my excitement.

"You've been very good since your punishment has ended," he says.
"Thank you, Sir," I respond.
""Your strips from the caning have almost healed. Are you sure you want a full maintenance?" he asks.
"The choice is yours, but I'm willing to accept a full maintenance session if you so desire," I answer.
"And after," he says quietly, "I will fuck you senseless."

I don't answer. I can't.
His hand comes down and I jump. Pain radiates across my flesh and tickles my clit. Before long, I can't think at all. All I know is sensation. His hand. My burning ass. My wet pussy. My place here on his lap.My body on fire.

I have no idea how long he has spanked me, but I realize he has stopped. I slide to the floor and unzip his pants. I take him into my mouth and gratefully suck his glorious manhood. He plays with my hair. After a while he stands, my mouth still on his dick until he forces me to stand. Then, he bends me over the table and grab ahold of the opposite side.

"That's it. Hold on," he tells me.

He enters me. His penis finally enters my warm, dripping cunt and I melt around him. He fucks me and I am full and beautiful and a woman. I am his.

I am his.

Examples of Courage - autobiographical ramblings

2011-02-05T19:51:00.000-06:00

Courage. Courage is tough to define. In some ways I'm quite courageous but in others, not so much. I've faced some demons and fought them off, but others - rip me apart.

I have either attended or arranged for the burial of more close family members than I have left. My grandfather, both grandmothers, father, two great-aunts who lived with me when I was little, my only brother. I grew up in a duplex filled with 8 people. Of that number, my mother and I are the only ones left and she has dementia. I've stood through all of that - with the help of other loved ones - but I made it through.

I gave birth twice. Both traumatic. The first a month and a half after the murder of my brother. The second came 4 weeks early and weighed 8 pounds. This was after a full month of bed rest and various drugs used to stop the early labor.

I graduated from high school and ranked in the top 5 percent of my class. Despite my mother basically telling me I wasn't smart enough or "strong" enough to make it through college, I did. I earned by BS then, years later, started on a Master's degree. After one year, I quit and decided to accept a full-time job which offered health insurance for my family. I also needed more time with my youngest who was severely speech delayed and needed a specialized day care, speech therapy and a lot of attention. Instead of completing the master's, I learned rudimentary signing so that he would have language. Years later, I did earn my M.Ed. My son no longer knows much signing. He talks non-stop when properly motivated.

I have worked up to 3 jobs at one time to support my family.

I have courage.

I struggle with depression and low self - esteem as most women do. Last summer I went off prozac and am attempting to deal with the depression on my own and with the help of a therapist.
I am a cutter.
I drink too much sometimes.
I need constant reassurance in order to feel worthy.
I cry often.

I lack courage.

But, I'll take what I can get.

So what is courage? I have no idea.

200. Her Response.

2011-02-01T14:27:00.000-06:00

For the first part of this story, go tohttp://mariespleasure.blogspot.com/2011/01/200-continued-fully-reprimanded-lady.html

For some reason, I didn't really think he'd make continue my punishment for the full 8 days, despite his promise to do so. Many times, he threatens a harsh discipline but after a while backs down and forgives me. This time, though, I must have really and truly pissed him off. Or, perhaps my nakedness and humility pleased him so much that he want4ed to make it last. I rather like that idea.

My ass had recovered from the first 100 caning strips and I was able to sit again, but then the end of my time served came up and I had to bend over for the remaining 100 strips. I'm bruised and sore again and sitting on the wooden chairs is horrible. And wonderful. And horrible. Of course, sitting is just now possible anyway since he's fucked nothing but my ass for the last 8 days. My poor pussy is dripping wet and has seen no relief, but hopefully tonight. I've prepared myself and the house carefully for his homecoming tonight.

Since my punishment began, he has fucked my ass no less than twice a day. It hurts terrible and feels fabulous at the same time. to add to my misery, he's used ginger on my ass once a day as well. Oddly, I almost miss the abuse it's taken. Luckily, though, he's keeping my ass trained for his pleasure by making me wear a plug while I do housework. I hate the damned thing, but I know it's for his pleasure and so I love it.

I've been denied the pleasure of clothing so that I am always available to him and he can see the evidence of his hand on me at all times. Twice he had guests over and ordered me to serve them. I prepared simple snacks and attended to their drinks - all while totally nude. My ass brightly shining with red, blue and purple bruises left by his cane. I was humiliated. Not for the reason you might think, but because my Lord had been forced to punish me to this extent. On both occasions, he offered my ass and tits to his guests. Naturally, they both took him up on his kind offer. I endured alligator clamps on my nipples, a cock in my ass and a leather belt across my cheeks, hips, thighs and breasts. I knelt before his guests and swallowed their cum. The only cum I've been allowed for 8 days. My Lord has only released himself on my skin, not inside of me. I miss his taste terribly.

Even though my 200 hours of punishment have been served, I am to receive a maintenance session tonight. I'm thrilled. I love maintenance. I am not punished, so I feel no guilt, but rather a reminder of my place at his side. I am his helpmate, his home, his welcome, his joy, his pleasure. In these I take pride and my own pleasure. His maintenance sessions remind of this. He called and left instructions.

I am once again remain naked beginning at 3:00 p.m. even though he will not be home until 5:30 p.m. No matter. It pleases him to know I await his homecoming as he wishes me to me.

I am to prepare for his homecoming by having dinner on the table in the kitchen when he walks through the door.

I am to prepare myself by inserting our largest plug into my ass.

I am to prepare the dining room by drawing the curtains, turning one of the chairs around so that the back rests against the edge of the table. Vitamin E oil, his leather belt, my wooden hairbrush, two clothes pins and a blindfold must be arranged on the table within arms reach of the chair.

I am to prepare the bedroom by having clean sheets on the bed, my restraints in place, scented candles lit and music playing.

Dinner is prepared. My ass is plugged, the dining room table is arranged, the bedroom fragrant and filled with sounds of heavy metal.

I am prepared.

Because I want to please him

2011-01-27T18:36:00.000-06:00

Because I want to please him, I choose to bare my breasts to him. I allow him to suck my nipples until they are so engorged I think they will burst. I bite my lip and bear the pain of clothespins constricting my elongated nipples, not for my pleasure, but because I know he likes to see them this way.

Because I want to please him, I choose too roll over on my stomach, my hips raised by a pillow, my tortured nipples pressed against the bed. I do not cover my ass or squirm away when his hand causes my skin to redden, my cheeks to heat and the pain of his spanking to radiate across my backside. Why? Because it pleases him to do this and I want to please him.

Because I want to please him, I bite my lip when he lubricates my asshole and inserts two fingers to stretch it. I whimper, but do not scream when his weight crushed my clipped nipples into the mattress, his hands squeeze my hips and his penis enters my anus with enough force to make tears spring to my eyes. Each thrust is excruciating, but this gives him pleasure and his pleasure is more important to me than my pain.

It pleases him to leave me with a "remembrance" of our time. A reddened ass, nipples so tender that a silk robe brings pain, rectal fissures.

I am not submissive. I do this not to be subservient, but to please him. I am not less than he and he is not my master. I am my own master and I choose to please my partner.

200 continued. A fully reprimanded Lady

2011-01-20T18:43:00.001-06:00

"You know you drew the highest number," he remarked.

She nodded. Whenever she transgressed he required her to pull a number from a jar. The numbers ranged from 25 to 200. Which ever number she drew was significant to the punishment she received. However, if she drew a number that he disagreed with, she would draw again and that number was added to the first.

"Your behavior recently has seriously disappointed me. Had you not draw a high number, you would have drawn again," he explained, his hand gently petting her head. Still sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped around his calves, she was grateful for his touch. The cold, clean floor soothed her burning, abused ass cheeks but did nothing to cushion the plug which had been imbedded in her ass for more than 200 minutes.

"How many days is 200 hours?" he asked casually.
She gulped, quickly did the math in her head and said, "Just over 8 days, Sir."

"Indeed. And that, young lady, is how many days you will remain in this house and naked. Consider yourself heavily grounded. Even if I have guests over, you will remain naked and, unless I order you to serve us, you will also remain standing in your corner during the time that I am occupied. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said quietly.

"Good. Now go to your room. Hands on the bed, legs spread."

Quickly, she scurried to obey. She was not about to further antagonize him by arguing. Once in position she waited. And waited. What did he have planned now? Her ass was so abused by the birching she didn't think she could endure another spanking or whipping session. She hoped he would remove the plug, but in all honestly, she had rather gotten used to the full sensation. Striving for patiences, she tried desperately not to look at the clock or shift her feet while she waited.

Finally, he came into the room. He didn't speak. He grabbed the end of the plug and pulled. Slowly so that she would feel every millimeter of the thing as it exited her. She bit her lip but didn't cry out. Then, she felt his hands on her hips and the tip of his cock pressed against her widened hole.

Ah. Thankfully, she dropped her head. He was fucking her. True, he was fucking her ass, but at least he was fucking something.

"Grateful, are you?"
"Yes, Sir. Thank you."
"Your ass is going to raw by the time I finish with it, so don't thank me yet. Further, you should know that your ass is all that's going to get fucked for the next 8 days."

She gasped, knowing he would keep his word. He fucked her hard, showing no mercy. She knew that by the time 8 days had passed, she'd barely be able to walk or sit. This fucking was not for her pleasure, but his and his alone. Finally, she felt him grow bigger and knew he would come soon. She cried out when he pulled his cock out of her anus and she felt his hot semen sear the strips of her recently abused cheeks.

"You didn't think I'd reward you with the gift of my essence did you?"
"No, sir. But I did hope," she answered truthfully.
"Silly woman. Now, for your final punishment of the night. Rather than 200 minutes, I'll settle for 20."

She felt something cold and small enter her. At first, it felt inconsequential. Nothing. And she wondered why, after the long hours of maintaining the enormous plug and the savage fucking he'd just administered, he had decided to insert something so small. Then she felt it. The sting.

"Oh god," she cried. "It hurts."
"I know, sweetheart. But you will not soon forget this punishment. You'll hold that ginger in your abused little ass for twenty minutes or you'll get the remaining 100 stripes with that birch tonight instead 8 days from now to mark the end of your punishment. While we're waiting, you're also going to clean my cock with your mouth."

He walked slowly around her and knelt on the bed directly in front of her face. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. She opened her mouth, happy to make amends. She ached and hurt and felt alive. She was happy to serve him. Happy to have a Master who loved her enough to administer the harshest punishment she'd endured.

Closing her lips around his cock, she tasted his semen mixed with her own pungent juices and cleaned him, crying through the stinging, spicy pain in her rectum, knowing she was loved.

Magic 200 - in honor of my 200th blog entry

2011-01-19T21:45:00.000-06:00

Two hundred minutes. That's what he'd said and so that was what she would endure. 200 minutes. She tried to focus on the task at hand which was scrubbing the ceramic tile floor. Still, how could she concentrate with the plug filling her ass. She glanced at the clock as her eyes widened. She heard his foot steps and focused on her work. She had only five minutes left to finish the floor, empty the bucket and put away the cleaning supplies. If she had endured the plug for 195 minutes, she could last a mere five minutes longer. Standing, she groaned as the plug shifted inside of her. Quickly she dumped the bucket of dirty water, placed the scrub brush and empty bucket in the closet and stood in her corner facing the wall just as the timer went off.

"Very good. You've completed all of your tasks in the alloted period of time, my dear."

She smiled to herself but didn't speak since he had not asked her a question.

"Is that plug becoming uncomfortable?"
"Yes, sir."

He laughed and she knew any hope she had of its removal were gone.

"Tell me, my dear, why are being reprimanded?"
She sighed. "Because, Sir, I begged for reprimand and in doing so attempted to manipulate you."

"That's right. And since you asked for this, you shall receive. Turn around."
She obeyed, careful to keep her head down.
"Look at me. Tell me what you see."

She raised her head and felt the color drain from her face.

"You know what this is?"
"Yes, sir," she whispered.
"Say it."
"It is the birch rod you had me cut yesterday."

She eyed the thin rod carefully. Upon his order, she had gone into the wooded area behind their home and cut a sturdy but thin birch branch about 3 feet in length. Naturally, she had know its purpose but had still willingly obeyed, looking forward to it's use on her tender bottom. Still, something looked different about it.
.
"You may have noticed the slight difference in color between now and when you cut it. You see, I've been soaking it in oil, my dear. You'll feel the sting a bit more sharply now."

Her breath caught in her throat. He was right. She had been trying to force him into a good, long session. She longed for the bite of his hand, but perhaps, just perhaps, she'd pushed him too far.

"You will use your safe word if this becomes too much. That, my dear, is an order."
"Yes, Sir. I will."
"Position yourself."

She moved a sturdy wooden chair to the center of the room, bend over it and placed her hands on the seat, her bottom fully exposed for his use.

"What number did you draw?"
"Two hundred, sir."
"The two hundred it shall be."

She heard the air whistle and felt the biting sting of the rod. She cried out as fire flashed across her cheeks. Again and again, without reprieve or mercy, the birch bit her ass, he thighs. She cried, screamed, tears flowing down her cheeks. Finally, she hung limply to the chair, grateful for it's support.

"That, my dear, was one hundred. Can you really endure another equal amount?"
"No, Sir. I cannot. I beg truce."
"No truce will be given."
Here eyes widened in fear and her knees gave way. He had always respected the safe word! She really had pushed him too far with her bratty behavior.
"But a reprieve will be granted. You will take your full punishment, my dear, but not tonight. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps next week. But you will receive it at a time of my choosing. Understand?"

Finally comprehending the extent of her transgression, she nodded, slipped to floor and wrapped her arms around his ankles.

"Yes, Sir. I understand. Thank you."

Shame - Autobiography

2011-01-16T15:50:00.000-06:00

For those of us raised in a traditional Catholic environment, shame is second nature, especially for those of us of the female persuasion. My first experience with being ashamed of my body's naturalness came when I was 10 years old. The day was very cold and snowy. I was in the third day and very excited to get home so my brother and I could launch an epic snowball war. I had been formulating plans of building a snow fort all day. I raced home, rushed into the bathroom to change out of my school uniform and into snow gear and screamed. I was dying. I was bleeding to death.

My mother came into the bathroom, annoyed at my interruption of her dinner plans, saw the blood on my white cotton panties and sighed. She assured me that I was not, in fact dying, but that I was experiencing my first womanly time. She rooted around in the bathroom closet and produced a belt. Yep. A belt. Does anyone even remember those monstrosities?? She reminded me of a conversation she'd had with me about a week before explaining all of this. I, of course, had no memory of it and was shell shocked that I would now have to wear this 2 x 4 between my legs for five to seven days. Whenever I had to pee, I was to remove the pad, roll it up, roll it with tissue paper and put it in a brown paper bag hidden in the closet. I was not to put it in the trash can because "my brother or father might see it" and that the blood wouldn't be "nice" for them to see. When my "time" was finished, I would then roll up the paper bag and hide it in the metal, outside trash can since no man should ever touch such things.

Sadly, I was a heavy bleeder. I would double pad and still bleed through to my sheets at night. I'd have to strip my bed, take the sheets downstairs to the laundry room and put them to soak so, again, "the men wouldn't have to see such things." I was not allowed to talk about my periods, use the term "period" or behave any differently, despite the sometimes debilitating cramps, headaches, vomiting and pain. Nor was I allowed to use a tampon - my future husband might not like it (took me YEARS to figure out why!!!). I learned to be ashamed of my body and grew to hate the monthly curse for a number of reasons.

Years later, I was shocked when my boyfriend (who later became my husband) took a very practical, matter-of-fact approach to my monthlies. He wasn't appalled by them or offended in any way. He was actually the first person who saw them as natural and a validation of my womanhood. He was also the first to suggest (and later insist) that I see a doctor for help in controlling the pain, heaviness of the blood loss and even fainting episodes.

I've have raised my 2 sons with full knowledge of the workings of a woman's body as well as a man's. They understand and actually appreciate the warnings I give when I'm unusually crabby or curled on the couch with a hot pad on my tummy. I'm pleased and proud to see them supportive and kind to their girlfriends when they have cramps. My sons realized that a woman's period is not an antithesis to their masculinity, but a confirmation of a woman's strength and beauty.

I'm no longer ashamed of having periods, but, in all truth, I think some of those feelings of shame have remained. I'm proud of, but also ashamed of, my periods, my breasts, my vagina. I struggle to see these as blessings as opposed to overt signs of weakness. I hope, I really, really hope, that some day I'll be able to completely embrace my femininity for the beauty and strength that it truly is.

Some days, I can. But other days, I'm still a 10 year old girl hiding the shameful evidence of my womanliness.

2011-01-11T19:02:00.000-06:00

I hate camping. He knows this but since he loves it, we do it. I love him enough to not complain too much, but I roll my eyes quite often. He just laughs. He's planned something - what he's planned, I can only guess. But here we are. Camping. In a fucking tent. In the middle of nowhere. Nothing here but trees, weeds, bugs and critters.He's carrying the bulk of our gear - a tent , his sleeping bag, hopefully food, water, a shovel and assorted other tools. I have my sleeping bag and the first aid kid. I just don't see how this will be enough for us. I'm not exactly high maintenance, but I do like a few luxuries - like bathrooms and hot showers. Still, I did agree to be his camping buddy for the weekend and I'll stay by my word. Hell, I even agreed to be totally submissive to him for the entire weekend as well. Obeying every command he gives me.
Fuck, I signed a damned paper stating I would serve him in any way he desired. What was I thinking!!!! So, here I am, hiking into his best friend's private forest. No phone coverage, no electricity, no running water.

Finally, he stops. My mouth drops open. I look around and see a hammock, a wooden table and chairs, a fire ring, a large supply of wood, a fifty gallon drum filled with water and two coolers. Turning to look at him, I can't help but grin . Apparently, I've underestimated his planning ability.

He dropped his pack and hugged me. He whispered, "I'll set up the tent and you, my dear, will take off your clothes."

My eyes open wide. I know these woods are private, but what if his friend, Dan, decides to join us? I heard him tell Dan to stop by sometime this weekend if he had the time. I hesitate. He frowns at me and takes something out of his back pocket. It's the damned paper I signed.

"Can I at least keep my shoes on?" I ask.
He looks at me in a slightly disappointed way but allows me this one boon. I strip. Fuck. Not only am I camping, but I'm naked as well. I hate being naked in front of him. I used to look really good, but the years have taken their toll and I'm not comfortable with my own body anymore. I sit in one of the chairs and realize he must have been planning this weekend for quite some time. He finishes with the tent and hands me a knife.

"Go cut a switch," he orders.
"What?' Why?"
"Because I told you so. If I were you, I wouldn't question my authority so much," he says sternly.

I duck my head and do as he says. I find a nice pine branch and cut off the rough needles. I like knives. When I was a kid I used to love to whittle. I bring it back to him. He's sitting in one of the wooden chairs playing with some rope. When he sees me he stands, holds out his hand and inspects the switch. He whips it through the air and it makes a nice whistling sound. I flinch.

"Bend over the table."

I'm wet. I can't believe it, but I'm actually wet. I do as he says and he ties my wrists to the table legs.

"George?" I ask.
"Don't talk. Just listen. I know you've been unhappy lately. You've been stressing out about your body, you're overwhelmed with work, you've been a royal bitch for weeks. This weekend I plan on changing that," he explains.

I say nothing. He's got one hand on my back and the warmth feels wonderful, I'm a little scared as well, and that feels wonderful as well. I think I know what he has planned and I'm terrified. Terrified of pain, humiliation, but more terrified that I'll enjoy it.

"You will be naked, totally naked - except for shoes - this entire weekend. If Dan shows up, you'll be naked. He's expecting it. Just to be sure, while you were cutting the switch, I hid your clothes. You will have no decisions to make other than Yes or No. Obey or Disobey. If you say disobey, there will be consequences unless you say No. If you say No, I'll stop immediately. Are you ready?"

I can feel my pussy lips thicken with blood and my nipples grow hard.
"Yes," I answer.

"Good. I was just going to tap your bottom a bit to warm it up, but you questioned me when I told you to get the switch, didn't you?" he asked sternly.

"I did," I admitted, my juices beginning to flow.

"You need to obey me without question."
"Yes."
"I need to teach you to obey me without question."
"Yes. Please," I say softly. I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but I am. And, I mean it. I want him to teach me.
"Unless you say 'No' I'm going to use this switch on your bottom until I feel you've learned your lesson."
I hesitate a moment.
"Yes. Please, George. Help me to learn."

Cleansing through Humiliation

2011-01-09T12:34:00.000-06:00

I'm not right. I know that. But I accept that in myself. I know what I need and luckily, so does my Lord. I feel dirty, not because I'm naked in a dingy, dark room He has rented. Not because my bowels are filled with his spunk. Not because the enormous plug he has just shoved into me will ensure that his spunk will stay right where it is until he allows me to remove it and empty myself of all fluids. Not because of the men he has lined up to fuck me. He doesn't think I noticed him nodding to all those men before he brought me to this room. I noticed. I notice everything and let all that I see pollute my mind. Once my mind is full, my body takes over and my muscles fill with tension. Anxiety takes over and I want to cut myself, injure myself, anything just to feel alive.

I need cleansing. Already I can begin to focus on the use my ass has taken. It's a bit sore and that soreness has pierced through the tension and is beginning to remind me that above all else, I am a woman. And a woman's primary responsibility, at least my responsibility, is to be a vessel of pleasure for my Lord. He knows I need this and I am grateful. Now that he has found me worthy of his attention, and had his own release, he will enjoy watching others use me. I now become his possession, one that he is proud of, one that he has trained well. I know that if I say Stop, he will, but I want, more than anything, to please him.

I'm crying slightly, but I need that. Water to Cleanse. The door opens and the first man walks in. My lord greets him casually, hands him a condom and puts a hand on my head. I'm frightened, but as long as my Lord has a hand on me or I can hear his voice, I won't panic. Fear is good. It makes me know I'm alive. Panic is bad. It renders me unable to perform.

The man is big. Very big. He wastes no time but grabs my hips and plunges his latex covered member deep within me. He mauls my breasts. He fucks me hard and fast. Between the size of his penis and the plug filling my ass, I feel like I'm going to spit in two. I cry harder but feel bubbles of pleasure building up. I'm not allowed to have orgasm without permission, so I try to control this. But I'm losing the battle. I hear the man grunting and feel my Lord's hands grasping my hair. My eyes are closed and I make a mistake. I focus on the pressure of the plug holding my His semen. Stars burst before my eyes and I cum. I can't help myself. If I were better cleansed, I'd be better able to focus on my Lord's wishes rather than my own. The man behind me buries himself inside of me and howls his pleasure. He thanks my Lord and leaves.

My Lord sighs. I haven't really disappointed him. We both knew I'd fail at least once. And if I hadn't, he'd still punish me for some other reason. I need to feel his hand of power.

He sits on the bench and pulls me onto his lap. I'm crying already, but that's good. He likes it when I cry during times like this. We both know I need the tears. He shows mercy by talking to me, but strictness as well. I can expect no reprieve but I don't want one. His hand burns my ass and he reigns down blows. He scolds me constantly and I focus on his voice rather than the pain radiating across my ass. He has given me no warm up but puts force behind every swat so pain and heat sear my tender skin right from the first swat. I know my ass is bright red and I barely resist the urge to rub my abused cheeks. After 50 or so spankings he stops. I turn over, sit on his lap, kiss him and thank him. I am truly grateful. I can feel the tension in my neck and shoulder lessen. He holds me gently until I stop crying and asks, "Ready for the next? You've got at least 6 more to service before I'll be satisfied."

I nod happily. With my asshole plugged and my cheeks on fire, I'll be better able to focus on my purpose.

I am an instrument of pleasure. My purpose is to please first my Lord and second to perform any task he assigns to me cheerfully and properly. I scoot off his lap, kneel on the filthy floor, bow my head and empty my mind of all thoughts but my duty to Him.

I am cleansed.

2011-01-04T21:49:00.000-06:00

She yearned not for humiliation, but cleansing. He knew this. He understood why she had dressed so demurely for their meeting. She wore a dove grey dress which swung loosely about her knees, modest 2 inch heels in matching grey, nude stockings, no jewelry, no make-up. She even pulled her thick, abundant light brown hair into a low, loose bun at the nape of her neck. On the short ride to the club, she kept her hand folded on her lap and her eyes lowered. He smiled at this. She looked perfect and knew how to behave. She would answer any question he posed, but would not speak unless spoken to.

This was not the norm for them, but today, she needed cleansing. Cleansing from the demands of the house, the job, the world. Today, she needed to be purified. Reminded that she was, first and foremost, a Woman.

"You sure you want to do this?" he asked.
"No," she answered honestly, "but what I want isn't really the issue now is it, if I may be so bold as to point out, my Lord."
He took his eyes off the road for just a moment to glance at her. "Indeed, you certainly may point that out. Shall we go over the expectations then?"
He didn't wait for her to respond.
   "You will speak only to me. You will speak only when given permission to or asked a direct question. If you need to say something, squeeze my hand. I will never leave you alone. Unless you truly object to something, you will do what I ask of you without question. Being afraid or nervous is no excuse to disobey me. Only a moral objection is an reason for withdrawal."
  Casting a quick glance in her direction, he saw her nod her agreement. This pleased him as well since he had not asked her a question and therefore she had no reason to speak.
  He found a parking spot at the far end of the lot. She remained seated until he walked around the car and opened her door for her. He held out his hand for hers and helped her stand. His cock got hard feeling her small hand tremble in his. Together, they walked into the club where he paid for a private room. He knew what she needed, even if she didn't. Walking her to the room, he made eye contact with no fewer than 8 other men. He knew that she had not witnessed this exchanged since she kept her eyes lowered.
  As soon as he shut the door to the room he ordered her to remove her dress. Quickly she did so. Frowning, he saw that she had worn a bra and panties. Granted, they were lovely, but she knew he preferred her bare. He noticed her cheeks pink a bit, so she must have also realized her mistake and quickly removed the offending articles. He took the clothing from her.
  "You know you'll have to be punished for that," he told her. She hung her head and nodded. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a blindfold. Even though she usually looked down, she hated the blindfold. He knew it made her feel totally vulnerable and faceless.
   He sat down on the cushioned bench and pulled her across his lap. First things first. He rubbed her ass at first gently and then with growing vigor, her exposed pussy rubbing against his hard cock. His hand came down in a firm slap. She jumped but no sound escaped her lips and she did not struggle for release. Good. Again and again his hand came down until his palm stung and her cheeks glowed with heat and color.
   "Kneel."
   Whimpering slightly and wiping an errant tear from her cheek. He stood, unzipped his trousers, pulled back her head. She instinctively opened her mouth just like he knew she would. He fucked her mouth, showing no mercy. She gagged, but he kept a tight hold on her hair. When he was about to explode he pulled out, smiling when she moaned in protest. He saw her throat work and knew she had almost spoken, but had managed to control herself just in time.
   He pulled her to a standing position, spun her around and bent her over, placing her hands on the bench. She needed cleansing. He could feel the tension slipping from her tight muscles, but she needed more. Spreading her warm, red cheeks, he pressed the tip of his saliva covered cock against the rim of her anus. Her small cry of protest sent shivers down his spine. Grasping her hips, he thrust. Hard. Fast. She cried out. In Pain. In Pleasure. In Release. Hard and Fast, he fucked her ass, watching her small hands claw at the bench. She tightened her hot little tunnel and he shot his load deep within her bowels.
  He took a moment, petting her back, whispering his praise to her. When he could breath again, he pulled out of her but kept his hand on her back so that she stayed in place. He wasn't quite finished. He'd worn cargo trousers for a reason. Fishing inside a large pocket, he pulled out a medium sized plug.
   "Time for round 2," he told her. Ruthlessly, he plunged the plug into her gaping hole.
   She gasped and had his arm not been around her waist, she would have sunk to the ground. He grabbed her now disarrayed hair and pulled her head back slightly.
  "And now, you're going to suck me clean and then I'm going to open that door and let every man lined up out there fuck your pussy or your face, whichever he prefers, but that ass is mine. I've got a dozen condoms here and you aren't finished until there's none left. Objections?" he asked.
  "No, my Lord."

Educate yourself

2011-01-03T18:25:00.000-06:00

e-books, print books and audio books - available at Total-e-bound

Year in Review - Ya had to have known it was coming

2011-01-01T15:46:00.000-06:00

Honestly, this has been one fucked up year for me. Lots and lots of bad things happened that I would prefer to forget. HOWEVER, a few good things did occur and the following is a list of memories that are feel good moments.

1. The Pirate Orgy - OMG that was so much fun.
2. Discovering a new found confidence in myself - late in coming, but at least it came.
3. Not one, but TWO photo shoots with Two - David Wraith and Jane van der Kuil - absolutely gifted photographers.
4. A new book came out. What's Your Pleasure
5. I've made some new and wonderful friends. And this, dear readers, is the best of the best. My dearly beloved grandmother said, "You can never have too many friends." There's a reason why I consider her one of the smartest, most influential women I've ever met.

Cock Tasting

2010-12-30T16:19:00.000-06:00

Finally, after weeks of deprivation, I have it. His cock. AND, it's right where I want it. In my mouth. I've even managed to get it into my mouth while it's still soft. It's so delicate and beautiful and delicious. I'm careful to keep my lips firmly about the shaft. Not too tight, not too loose. I use my tongue to trace it's length and feel you begin to grow. This makes me happy because I know I'm pleasing you. I cup your balls in my hands, not wanting to neglect them, but not ready to release your cock so I can lick them yet. Later, when my jaw begins to ache, then I'll allow myself a short break and administer to the lovely jewels.

You're fully hard now and it's more difficult to take all of you, but I do. I've learned to deep throat you, my lips pressed against your pelvis, your tip pressed against the back of my throat. You moan and I'm happy. I'm pleasing you. I use my tongue to apply pressure to your shaft while I suck a bit harder and massage your balls. I want to make sure I attend to all of your sensitive areas. You taste divine. I never want to release you. If you will allow it, I will stay right here for hours. Licking, kissing, sucking, caressing you.

"That's it. Keep going," you say.

I close my eyes, savoring your praise as much as your taste. Grateful, I obey you.

wanting

2010-12-29T13:33:00.000-06:00

I want you. Now. I want to feel your arms around me, your fingers stroking my cheek, holding my chin, bringing my mouth up to meet yours.

I want you. I want to feel you gently pull me into you, to hold me tightly like I'm the most precious gift you could ever receive.

I want you. I want to feel you slowly undress me, kissing my naked skin as you go, your hands on my body making me feel alive.

I want you. Inside of me. Your tongue in my mouth, your cock in my pussy. I want to hold them within my most intimate places, offering you the comfort and warmth of my body.

I want to please you.

Snow Spanked

2010-12-27T14:07:00.001-06:00

She was in position ans He had instructed: her hands grasping the edge of the kitchen table, her feet wide apart. She was naked, naturally. He required that even in the dead of winter. The heating bills were atrocious, but well worth the expense to have her naked, available and eager at all times. He knew she hated the cold, so he made sure to keep the house nice and warm. Tonight, though, he had plans for her. She wouldn't like part of those plans, at least for a little while, but he knew her well enough to know she'd love the end result.

He had purposely ignored her sweet ass for a good week now. He wanted her desperate for what he was about to deliver. And now, looking at her body stretched over the table, her ass wiggling in anticipation, He practically giggled with glee. First, He'd warm her up a bit with his hand. To do what He planned on doing, she'd need to be warmed up otherwise she'd bruise too badly. He knew she didn't mind bruising, but He hated the idea of actually harming her.

God He loved the sounds she made. The low throaty moans, the high pitched yips. She raised her hips slightly, anticipating and meeting each swat of His hand. After 40, her ass was a nice pink color and warm to the touch. He leaned over the table and pulled her hair a bit.

"Ready for the big guns, hon?" He asked.
"Yes, please," she answered, her voice full of passion and need.

He looked over the array of kitchen utensils He had assembled. What to use first? The wooden spoon? the pancake spatula? the small skillet? yard stick? Keeping a hand on her ass, He smiled as He made the decision. The yard stick. When applied with just the right force, it left a lovely red welt across her already pink bottom.

"When's your birthday?" He asked.
"Today, Sir."
"And the date?"
"The 27th, Sir."
"Then 27 it shall be."

By the time He had delivered all 27 stripes, his arm was aching and her ass and thighs were beautifully marked with bright red welts. He listened to her panting and felt himself grow rock hard. She'd cried out, even screamed at one point, but had made no appeal to remove herself from the table. She was allowed to release her hold on the table only upon His command. Now, she lay spent, weeping quietly. He noted with pride that her thighs glistened with sweet juice. She never looked so beautiful as when she was freshly spanked, ripe and wet. She was ready.

Quickly, He stepped outside for a moment. He glanced back to make sure she stayed in position. She did. He had trained her well. She wouldn't move until He released her. Next, He stood behind her, stepped out of her trousers. She sighed through her tears, knowing He was about to fuck her. But she didn't know, couldn't even guess what was going to happen. He smiled diabolically and smashed the loosely packed snow into her hot, wet pussy. She screamed, lifted herself up, but did not let go of the table.

Again, He grabbed her hair, forced her head back and whispered, "Good girl."

How could He not giver her the reward of a proper hard fuck after she'd behaved so well on her birthday?

Auto - Christmas Tree shopping - non-fiction

2010-12-23T12:30:00.000-06:00

I think one of my favorite Christmas activities when I was little was picking out a tree with my big brother and grandfather. I must have been about 7 or 8 when he took us to Downtown St. Louis to an area know as Produce Row. He worked for the N&W railroad and had a working "relationship" with the produce guys, so they always gave him a great deal come Christmas time. My brother and I ran around the tree lot and looked at every single tree. Grandpa was hanging out with the Italian workers and sipping a mug full of something - turned out it was home-made Italian red wine. I cried because I couldn't see much - (I was a homely, tiny, skinny, red-headed, freckle-faced scrap of a girl but my grandpa called me a Princess and so I was!) so Grandpa came over, picked up and put me on one shoulder. I couldn't have been happier. My brother had found a cat to play with, so he was happy as well. He was a real sucker for cute little critters. I picked out the biggest tree on the lot. It was magical.

Grandpa let Terry and me stay inside the warmed shed while he and his friends put the tree on top of the old Dodge Dart he drove. While standing there, I noticed the biggest nut I'd ever seen in my life. And, it had HAIR!!! I was fascinated. What was it? Can I touch it? What's inside? How do you eat it? Are all nuts hairy? The old Italian man staying warm in the shed just smiled and me and told me all kinds of wonderful lies. I liked him. When Grandpa came in, the old guy laughed and told him about my fascination with the hairy nuts. (I was 8 okay - I didn't get the joke!!) Grandpa laughed and tried to buy one for me but the old gentleman refused his money and told me to pick out any one I wanted. He said than any little lady who wanted a hairy nut should have one. Merry Christmas. THEN, he threw in two chucks of sugar cane - one for Terry and one for me.

My grandpa was slightly tipsy by this time and since he was also color blind and couldn't remember which light was on top - the red one or the green one - the drive home was interesting to say the least. Lots of other drivers waved to us so I waved back. I was a bit confused as to why the waved using only one finger instead of their whole hand. Must be some strange grown-up thing.

I was so very proud of that tree, but my mother was horrified. She pointed out the bare spots, that it was dropping lots of needles and was crooked. When I showed her my hairy nut, she rolled her eyes and said it was yucky. I ran to my room and cried. Even my brother coming in and offering to let me play with his "these are special, don't touch them or you'll die" hot wheels collection couldn't make me come out of my room.

Finally, grandpa came in. He had my hairy nut, a wooden board, an awl, a hammer and a bowl with him. He sat down on my bed and I was just too curious to stay sulking. He used the awl and hammer to poke through one of the three eyes on the nut then drained the white liquid into the bowl. I sipped it and it was the sweetest most delectable flavor in the world. Next, he put my nut on the board and hit it a few times with the hammer. It cracked open and exposed lovely white flesh. Using his pocket knife, he carved out shavings of the fresh coconut for me. I was in heaven. It tasted wonderful. Grandpa and I sat for what seemed like forever on the edge of my bed. He shaved off small pieces of coconut for me and I entertained him with stories of magical fairies who lived in my room with me.

The tree was decorated eventually and while my mother still groused about it, Grandpa assured me that it was the most beautiful tree in the world and that he'd heard from somewhere that magical fairies and princesses preferred imperfect trees. They, like fairies and princesses, were more lovable.

Naked Discipline Part II

2010-12-22T14:20:00.000-06:00

Maggie paced the floor of her bedroom. Joshua's brother had dropped by unexpectedly and, since she was still required to be naked, he had ordered her to stay in this room until he released her. The problem was she had to pee. She could, of course, sneak into the adjoining bathroom and Joshua would never know, but he'd made her promise to stay in this room and she planned on keeping her word. Besides, she'd never intentionally disobey Joshua. He was the Head of Household. Besides, perhaps he'd decided that this was part of her discipline, in which case, she had no right to go against his decision. She had willingly given up that right over a year ago and had never regretted her choice.

She'd screwed up with the laundry earlier, but that had been carelessness. A few minutes ago, out of desperation, she had sent him a text asking for permission to use the bathroom and now she'd just have to wait for a reply and endure the discomfort. It was her own fault anyway, so she deserved this.

Suddenly, the door opened and Joshua walked in. She stopped pacing and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Need to pee, do you?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir."
"You could have gone and I'd never have know you left the room, you know."
"I thought about it, Sir, but I didn't want to disobey you, especially since I deserve this punishment."

Joshua smiled a bit. "In that case, go ahead. I'll wait here for you," he allowed.

Maggie rushed to him, kissed his cheek, then ran to the bathroom. When she returned to the bedroom, she halted. Joshua was sitting on the end of the bed waiting for her. He patted his lap and she hung her head, taking her position. Once lying across his lap, she pressed her hands on the floor to steady herself. He'd said he would spank, fuck, or plug her as he choose over the next twenty four hours. She assumed this was simply the first of many disciplinary actions he would take.

"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready, Sir," she responded.

Five times his had came done on each cheek.He was firm, but not brutal. Not yet. He was warming her up and she was grateful.

"Recite," he ordered.

"You are the head of the household," she began. "You have the duty and right to maintain order as you see fit. I gratefully accept your discipline in all humility."

Maggie winced. This time, the swats were harder. Ten blows to each cheek. By now, she knew her ass would be pink.

"Again."
Maggie repeated her mantra.

Fifteen swats this time.

"Again."
She hung her head and recited, "You are the head of the household. . ."

Twenty firm, hard swats to each cheek. By now, tears had formed in her eyes and her ass cheeks burned.

"Again."
"Please, Sir. . . "

SMACK!!!

She cried out and began to kick a bit. Joshua secured her legs by placing his on on top of hers.

"Again."
Sniffing and crying, Maggie repeated her lines. This time, however, Joshua rained down swats while she spoke. She'd lost count of how many times he'd spanked her. She had squirmed a bit, but now, she just hung her head and cried. Her ass had gone from warm to hot to burning. From stinging to hurting to numbness. Her eyes glazed over and felt a warm deep inside of her. She knew that he could see the wetness beginning to form. Humiliation washed over her. Not from the spanking, not from the enforced nakedness, not from her growing arousal. She had failed to perform one of her assigned choirs. It's not like she had even performed the choir badly, she hadn't done it AT ALL!! Guilt washed over her and she did, in all truth, accept her punishment.

Finally, she realized he'd stopped spanking her and was rubbing her ass, soothing it. When she was able to compose herself, she slipped to the floor and knelt before him, placing her cheek on his knee. She too his reddened hands and kissed them.

"Thank you, Sir. I'm so sorry I failed. Thank you for your correction and discipline," she said.

Joshua smiled at her and petted her head. "Now that's my good woman. I know you'd like me to fuck you now, but that just isn't going to happen yet. Part of your punishment will be to deny you orgasm until your time of nakedness is through. Then, perhaps, I'll allow you one orgasm before you begin to earn back your clothing, beginning with your shoes. In the meantime, though, you should expect some time of physical discipline once every 2 hours. Understand?"

Tears again welled up in Maggie's eyes but she nodded, accepting his decision without complaint.

She was loved.

Naked Discipline

2010-12-20T19:58:00.000-06:00

"But I said I was sorry," Maggie whined.

"So you did, but that still doesn't change the facts, does it?" Joshua answered, his gaze stony.

Maggie sighed. He was right, of course. She HAD promised she'd get the laundry completed and put away before he returned home but instead, she'd gotten caught up in playing an on-line game. Still, maybe if she pleaded and looked pathetic Joshua would relent just a bit.

"But, Sir, it's Friday night and I was so hoping to take you out for a nice dinner," she spoke in a sultry voice and batted her eyes at him.

Maggie paled when she saw his already stern expression change to one of total coldness. She hung her head and realized her mistake.

"Undress. Now," he ordered.

She hesitated a moment. She'd expected a stern spanking as was his usual form of discipline for her even though their agreement listed a number of punishments. Looking up at him, however, she realized her punishment would be much worse if she didn't comply.

She undressed and stood meekly before him.

"You will earn your right to clothing as per our agreement. Do you understand?" he asked.

"Actually, Sir, no, I don't. Would you explain please?" she asked humbly.

"Certainly, my disobedient woman. Since clothing means so little to you that you forgot about the laundry today, you will follow all of our posted rules to the letter. When and if you perform to my expectations, you will be allowed to wear one more article of clothing. However, that privilege will be delayed until at least 24 hours from now. In the meantime, you will remain naked and in this house. Perhaps that will teach you to respect clothing a bit more," he explained.

Naked? for at least 24 hours? and then have to earn back each piece of clothing? Oh God! She DID remember that punishment. She'd giggled when she had agreed to it, thinking it would be silly, but now, NOW!!

She felt vulnerable and- well - naked! What if a neighbor came over? He didn't really expect her to stay totally nude!

"And while you are naked, I will spank you or put you in the corner or send you to our room or fill your anus with a plug or fuck you. But you, my lovely wife, will not be allowed to come. This is a punishment and you will learn to keep your word," he instructed.

"Yes, Sir," Maggie responded. In the future, she decided, she would make sure the laundry was completed.

Unwrapping

2010-12-18T09:52:00.000-06:00

Okay, so to be perfectly honest, I'm not liking the whole Christmas season so much this year. I've been sick. My youngest has been sick. We've all been snippy with each other. My family has "ruined" many of the Christmas traditions I've held dear due to their totally off beat and sarcastic sense of humor (okay, so some of it really IS funny, but still! Baby Jesus should NOT be replaced in the manger with Yoda!!!). My closest friends are all Scrooges and I haven't been to church in months and months. I just don't feel comfortable there anymore for a variety of reasons. BUT, the worst, the absolute worst part about Christmas is the wrapping!!! I fucking hate wrapping gifts. There's the tape and then the paper that rips and then I cut the paper too short and then I loose the damned pen and then the ribbon gets all tangled and then I forget which fucking gift I just finished and have to open up the damned thing again and start over!!!!!

It's enough to drive a person to drink. Which I do. Which explains why I'm sometimes forgetful.

So - help me - please - over suggestions on ways wrapping could be more fun!!! I've thought of a few, but could use your creative advice as well

1. Strip wrapping - each time a gift is wrapped an article of clothing is "unwrapped"

2. Decorate the tree with the gifts (unwrapped) instead of ornaments - that way there's less to take down later.

3. Drink more

4. Make a submissive do it ( I like this one since I've declared myself un-submissive)

5. coat the gift boxes in glue, scatter the paper all over the floor and roll them around.

6. After each gift is wrapped, I get bent over the wrapping table and fucked until I orgasm. (Motivation)

I think 4 and 6 are my favorites.

My first interest in Sexual Submission - Autobio.

2010-12-16T11:48:00.001-06:00

After much reflection, I've decided to go ahead and post a few autobiographical posts. Since I've been submissive most of my adult life and still have strong tendencies in that direction, I thought I'd share how I may well have become that way. Believe it or not, it was mainly because of a book. Yep. A book.

photo by Michael Drage

The Clan of the Cave Bears by Jean Auel. I read that book when I was about 19 and, even though I had been reading romance novels since the young age of ten, I had my first "wet read" experience. I was intrigued by the research that went into the book but also about how the heroine, Ayla, once she found a home with the Clan grows into a woman. Every woman of the clan must "submit" to any male who gives her his signal. She must immediately drop to her knees, raise her bottom and present herself for his pleasure whether she wants to or not. Why did this appeal to me so much? It just seemed right and good.

I was dating my future husband at the time and told him about the book and how I felt a connection with Ayla. He's always been a controlling, dominant sort of guy and had always enjoyed the rougher side of sex, so he was more than happy to take this as a way of me saying "I want to be submissive."

One of the first acts of true submission he required of me was a bald pussy. It was winter, close to Christmas time. Back then, woman rarely trimmed their pubic hair, let alone shave it. I'd seen a few pictures of shaved pussies in his magazines, but never in real life. Nor had I ever done more than a little trim work.My red curls tightly covered my pussy. He decided one afternoon, however, that he wanted me totally bald. I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea to say the least, but was wet at the thought of doing something totally for his pleasure. He said he'd just trim it close and I agreed.

He lay me on his bed, placed a towel beneath my bottom and got to work with a pair of scissors. He told me not to move and not to look. He'd let me know when he was finished. I felt him tugging at the delicate hair and winced a few times. He slapped at my thighs every time I moved so I tried to be as still as possible, but if I want to be totally honest, those slaps thrilled me. What seemed like hours later (probably about 10 minutes) he lay the scissors down. I thought he was finished, but no. He instructed me to stay still. I did, silently fretting and beginning to cry just a bit.

He left the room and came back with a bowl of warm water and a razor. My eyes about popped out of my head but I said nothing and neither did he. If he wanted to shave a bit around the edges, so be it. I held my breath and tears of fear flowed down my cheeks. BUT, my pussy was absolutely dripping. He spread the juice around my nether lips and spread my thighs even further. I gasped, feeling the razor on my lips. Still, I didn't move. I was afraid I'd get cut, but more, I was afraid I'd displease him. Sure enough, he'd shaved me totally and completely bald.

I hated it. I felt naked, exposed, vulnerable. I loved it. I felt available, obedient, pleasing to him. He fucked me. Hard. Giving no consideration at all to my newly exposed and delicate skin. My discomfort didn't matter. Only is pleasure mattered. He bit my nipples, twisted them, pinched them, until they were bit and hard and tender. He used me for hours. By the time he took me back home to my parents house, I could barely walk and my nipples were swollen and red. I felt humiliated by the lack of pubic hair and reminded of the humiliation constantly. I felt branded and owned. I was wet for hours.

He made me keep my pussy totally shaved for weeks but eventually told me I could allow a wide "landing strip" to grow back but only because it was coming to time for my annual pap test and I begged him to let me grow it back so the doctor wouldn't see it shaved. I was, naturally, required to re-shave it completely immediately after the visit.

I both hated and loved shaving myself. I felt meek and subservient. I didn't want this, but he did, therefore, I would do it. Whenever we were together, I was very attentive to his needs. Whatever he wanted, I humbly gave because it was not only my obligation to see to his desires, it was a source of pride to be able to provide for his needs. And when he fucked me until I had trouble walking, when he tortured my nipples until I cried, I knew a sense of pride like I had never felt before. I wore my soreness like a crown.

I felt like a woman.

New Idea

2010-12-12T19:33:00.000-06:00

Here's a new idea that has been suggested by a few people whom I trust. Write about my own life. This idea is both intriguing and terrifying. While it would be hard to argue that my actual life has been - um - well - interesting, it's also MY life and I'm not sure I'm really brave enough or honest enough to share all of it. Like most people, I've done some things I'm not proud of, things that could be judged badly, and things that have hurt good people. This idea would demand a lot of soul searching. Then again, no one said I'd have to share ALL of it! Still, this would be a big step for me.

Let's get something straight right here. I started this blog for two reasons: One: to sell books, which is very slow going. I'm still hopeful things will pick up, though, and I know part of the problem is that I don't publish very often. Two: self-expression of both fiction and non-fiction. I really do like the blending of my own experiences with my very active and naughty imagination. So far, the blog's been fun and I intend to keep up with the stories. It's a great creative outlet and a springboard for snippets that might make it into a book.

Still, the very few number of comments has disappointed me and I'm not sure what to do about that. I know some folks might be shy about posting, but you can do it without a name - or - make one up!! I could really use some input here. I'm thinking about adding a "Once a Week" special autobiographical article to the blog which might or might not be sexually themed.

So, what do you think? Yes or No? Majority wins - unless, of course, I decide otherwise, since, after all, this is MY blog!

Reward

2010-12-08T16:33:00.000-06:00

You leave me sitting there, humiliated, your cum dried on my skin, my cheeks burning from your attention, by nether hole filled and aching. I know my duty. I contemplate my place, not so much what you expect of me, but what I expect of myself.

I expect to be at your disposal.
I expect to welcome all of your attentions, no matter what time of day.
I expect to please you first and myself second.
I expect your kindness, your compassion.
I expect your roughness, your strength.
I expect to administer to your desires.
I expect you to use me as you will.

Grounded, I rise and walk to the bedroom, confident once again.You are lying on the bed, naked. I kneel beside your hips, my ass pointed toward your face and cradle your balls in my hands. Gently I kiss them, lick them, work my way up your shaft and wrap my lips around the tip of your penis. I suck, pressing my tongue against your shaft. I hear you moan in pleasure and I am pleased. I feel you grasp the plug and tug on it gently. It hurts so I focus on my job. I take you deeply down my throat, sucking and drinking your in. Suddenly, you pull the plug out. I want to scream but my mouth is blessedly full.

"Turn around," you command.

I obey. I know my duty and am grateful. I climb on top of you and impale my open, stretched anus on your hard dick. It's smaller than the plug so it doesn't hurt. Still, it fills me and I ride you. You grasp my nipples and pull hard. You reach over to the side table and pick up the clothespins that I hadn't noticed till now.

"Oh," I murmur.

"Problem?"

"No, Sir."

You pinch my nipples and put the clips on them. Electricity shoots straight to my clit as you knew it would and I begin to cum. I can't stop myself even if you were to command me to stop. Waves of heat wash over me and I ride. Star explode behind my eyes and I collapse on top of you. I'm panting and you just hold me, rubbing my back to calm me.

"You want those clips off now?"

"Yes, please," I answer honestly. They hurt. Terribly.

"And if I say no?"

I nuzzle into your neck and nod.

"Then they remain in place," I acknowledge.

"That's right. They remain there until I cum again. And you know that will take a while, don't you?"

I don't answer. There's no need. You know that I will keep the clips on for as long as it please you. You know I realize this will not be a short encounter. You know I will be aching and sore for days. You know I love this. You know I need this. You know we both have found our Reward.

Maintenance

2010-12-07T14:42:00.000-06:00

I'm not submissive, but obedient. I'm not subjugated, but willing give of myself. Most of the time. Some days, though, I need a reminder and when this happens, I present myself for Maintenance. So here I am, Your Pleasure giver, in need of a reminding of my place. I stand naked before you and willingly await your decision on my Maintenance today. I can walk away. I can reject your decision. I know this and you know this, but we also both know that since I requested this, I will gratefully abide your decisions.
You bend me over the table and position my hands so that I can grasp the opposite side. This stretches me uncomfortably but I'm happy. You lube my ass with something terribly cold and slowly insert a plug that stretches me until I think I will split in two. I hate the coldness and you know this. You go slow. When I try to push against it to hurry it in, you stop completely and slap my ass. I'm ashamed and put my forehead against the table. This is your Maintenance and I will humbly endure.
Finally, it is in and my anus burns but my pussy is wet.
The spanking begins. First with your hand. You slap my ass, gently warming the skin. 5, 10, 25 swats to each cheek. I feel a warmth spreading into my veins. You pause and I know I'm in for a real spanking now.
I hear you unbuckle your belt and hold onto the edge of the table tighter.
The leather snaps across my warmed cheeks and I flinch. You ignore my cries and continue to rain down stripes with your belt. I try to count, but loose concentration after 40. You must be getting tired by now but you continue relentlessly. I've stopped crying and squirming away. I'm lost in the warmth, the heat the sensation. I feel honey dripping down my thighs and a calmness descends upon me. I'm floating on a sea of sensation and feel grounded.
You've stopped. My ass is on fire and I love it.
You grab my hair and pull me upright, plunging your tongue deep into my mouth. You aren't finished with me yet.
You make me sit on the hard wooden chair and I wince from the pain of the spanking and the plug being pushed deeper into me.
You don't care.
You unzip your pants and pull out your hard manhood. I instinctively open my mouth to accept it. You keep your hand firmly wrapped in my hair and push my mouth down, forcing me to deep throat you. You fuck my face. Hard. I'm gagging,
You don't care, or if you do, you don't stop, and I'm grateful.
I feel you grow even bigger and pray you will release down my aching throat.
You don't.
You pull out and spray your seed down my face, my tits, my chest.
You kiss me and leave me.
I sit there, your cum drying on my skin, your plug invading my ass, Your marks burning my skin.
I am at peace.

Why?

2010-12-01T17:40:00.000-06:00

Why do I fall in love?

Is it the warmth of beauty
infusing my blood with need?

Is it the headiness of fantastic thought
impossible in the hardness of reality?

Is it the vaporizing of all the air
scorched by the heat of my loins?

Is it the paleness of the face
as blood rushes to fill the juicy areas?

Is it the inevitable collapse of civilization
when my world is shaken apart?

Is it the ultimate presence of desolate pain
when you leave me?

Why do I fall in love?

Obligatory Thanksgiving List

2010-11-24T15:43:00.000-06:00

Things I'm thankful for (In no particular order):
1. lube
2. almond oil
3. vibrators
4. hot baths
5. condoms
6. multiple orgasms
7. penises
8. arnica
9. warm socks
10. massages

So, what's on your list?

Story Time 4

2010-11-19T22:02:00.000-06:00

Carrie couldn't stop herself. She screamed. Again and again Jim brought his hand down on her ass. She cried and she tried not to squirm, but she squirm she did. Her ass was on fire but Jim was relentless. He held her tightly and continued his onslaught. Carrie cried. She begged him to stop. She kicked a bit.

She did NOT use the safe word. She felt safe. She felt wanted and cared for and excited and humbled. Despite "Please, Stop" coming out of her mouth, she wanted him to continue. She wanted to belong to him. To please him. To be bear his mark proudly.

Finally, he stopped. he turned her over and sat her on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and she tucked her head beneath his chin.

"That, dearest Carrie, is just a maintenance spanking. If you agree, you will receive suck a spanking at least once a week. Do you agree?" Jim asked, his hands now gently stroking her hair.

"Yes, I agree," she immediately answered.

"And should you break any rules, I will administer a punishment spanking, which will be much harsher and may even leave you bruised and tender for days. Do you agree?" Jim asked.

Carrie considered. Her ass was on fire, her pussy dripping with excitement, her heart calm, her mind content.

"Yes, Jim. I agree."

Story Time 3

2010-11-13T11:57:00.000-06:00

"Very well," Jim imformed her. "Then I shall provide those for you. You see, Carrie, I've come to admire you greatly. I love your compassion and your intelligence, but the haunted, lonely look in your eyes tears at me. So, if you agree, you will become my submissive and I your master. When we are together, you will abide by my rules and accept my discipline. Are you ready?"

"Oh yes, please," Carrie answered honestly. Her heart was beating quickly and the butterflies in her stomach were all aflutter, but she for the first time in years she felt a warm flame of joy.

"First, do not question my commands except to clarify."
"Yes, sir."

"Undress yourself."

Carrie hesitated only a moment before she stood and removed her clothing. Shocked, she found that she was not embarrassed at all, but rather pleased that this man wanted to see her naked.

"Nice. Now, whenever you are in my home I expect you to be naked and available to me at all times unless otherwise informed. Understood?"

Carrie nodded.

"I also believe that now would be an excellent time to administer what I will call Maintainence. You will lie across my lap and I will administer spankings until I decide you've had enough or until you say 'Red'. I will warn you though, since this is your first exposure, I will want you feel and understand fully what type of discipline I will dole out. I will not go easy on you."

Carrie stood in place while Jim positioned a straight back chair in the middle of the room. Her thighs glistened with anticipation. She'd always fantasized about being spanked and loved reading stories of strong men and their equally strong but submissive women. Now, as she watched Jim pull on a leather glove, sit, and pat his lap, she licked her lips, drew in a deep breathe and placed herself over his knees, her white ass vulnerable.

"I'm proud of you, Carrie. You've made me very happy," Jim whispered.

He placed his legs over hers and rested his ungloved hand between her shoulder blades.

"I'd suggest you use your hands to brace yourself against the floor, my dear. I will tolerate very little squirming. You may scream or cry, but do not squirm away from me. Are you ready?"

"Yes, I am," she unhesitantly answered.

Scary Week

2010-11-09T20:55:00.000-06:00

I haven't posted a lot recently and I do apologize, but I've had reason. First, I'm working 2 jobs again - three if you could the writing. Second, this was one scary week. Last Monday I went for a mammogram. Why, you may ask? It had been two years since the last one and yes, I did feel a slight little bump. When I mentioned this to a friend, that person kind of freaked and pretty much stood over me while I made the appointment (Thanks, by the way!). If you've never had a mam, you really can't understand the pain involved. Basically, they shove my 34DD cups into a giant press and squish them to about 1/2 an inch thick. Ouch. They told me that I'd get a letter in about a week or so letting me know if everything was fine or if I'd need to come back for additional "views". Less than 48 hours later, my doctor's office calls and says they want more views.

Now I'm concerned.

Today I went in for the additional tests. Squished twice by that demonic device of torture that makes the thumb screw look like child's play and ultrasounded twice (thank the Goddess that the gel crap was warm!) and the doctor's ready to tell me the results. I have five cysts - four quite small and "simple" and one complex and a tad bit bigger but still considered small. I also have fibrocystic disease - which is really more of a condition than a disease. Apparently, I have heavy, fiberous boobs with dense tissue. Small cysts are not unusal and should be watched.

So, in six months, I get to go back for another boob squeeze to see if there are any changes. If not - yeah. If so - biopsy.

I'm going to drink some wine now. Oh, Chinese medicine recommends gentle breast massages to help alleviate pain and to break up the fiberous, dense tissue. A little help here???

School?

2010-10-30T23:55:00.000-05:00

It has recently been suggested by a Facebook friend whom I greatly admire that I set up a Finishing School for women/submissives somewhere in the moutains. I find this idea intriguing, although I'd never have the means or guts to actually follow through. Still, a list of curricula is fun to play with, so I've thought up the following classes - feel free to add suggestions.

1. Deportment 101: In this course the submissive will learn proper manners and respect expected of a proper sub. This course can also be taylored to meet the individual needs of either submissive or dominant.

2. Adornment: This course will focus on how a lady should dress for her dominant's pleasure. Walking in heels, proper corset adjustment, jewelry and accessories will all be addressed.

3. Obedience: This course, naturally, will be a requirement. Obedience is an ongoing skill since it is so complex. Obedience to verbal and non verbal expectations, direct commands, obedience of attitude as well as physical requirements.

4. Positions: A good submissive is well versed in every sexual position from missionary to bound and caged. She is graceful and beautiful and agreeable no matter what is required.

5. fellatio: Passing this course would be required for graduation. A good submissive will know not only know how to please her dominate through normal sexual encounters but will eagerly seek to please him or her through oral stimulation.

6. Tolerance. A true submissive is tolerant and accepting of whatever her/his dominant chooses whether that be bondage, chastity, whippings, anal, nipple clamps, public displays or humiliation. The dominant's pleasure is utmost in the submissive's mind and through His/Her pleasure, the submissive also gains pleasure.

Probably enough for one semester.

Story Time 2

2010-10-30T12:55:00.000-05:00

Carrie followed Jim to his home. His manners warmed her heart. He opened her car door and his front door, allowing her to enter before him. His home was beautiful. Simple, but beautiful. He held her hand and escorted her to the living room, indicating that she should sit on the leather sofa.
"Let me ask you a few questions first, and then depending upon your answers we will proceed," he said.
Carrie nodded. For some reason, she felt herself getting wet.
"Are you attracted to me?"
Carrie blushed. "Umm, I . . ."
"Yes or No. That is all the answer I require," he instructed.
"Yes."
"Are you wet now?"
She thought she would die of humiliation but found she could not lie. "Yes."
"Do you have a lover?"
"No."
"Do you want me as your lover?"
"Yes," she whispered, dropping her eyes to the floor.
"Look up at me when I talk to you. Do you want rules, structure, discipline, consequences?"
She took a breathe and hestated a moment.
"Yes."

Story time.

2010-10-23T13:24:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time there was a girl. A lonely girl. She was very pretty, but all alone in the world and a bit frightened. She had inherited enough money so that she only had to work part time. The rest of the time she devoted to volunteer work at a local homeless shelter. One night she finished working at the shelter quite late. Her supervisor offered to walk her to her car so that she wouldn't be alone in a crime filled neighborhood. Smiling shyly, she thanked him and accepted his offer. He was beautiful. Tall, blue eyes, brown hair and killer smile. He was strict with both the volunteers and the people in the shelter, but fair and compassionate as well.
"Will you be okay driving home?" he asked.
"I think so. I have been so far," she answered.
"Would you prefer to come by my place for a while?" he questioned.
She was stunned. He'd never shown any interest in her before so why now?
"Why?"
He ran his hand down her hair. She was mesmerized by his touch.
"I see your soft heart. I see how you respond to rules. I see the lonelines in your eyes. I can help with that. But mostly, because I want you," he answered. He bend down and touched his lips to hers. He pulled her against him and she stopped breathing. He nipped at her lip and she moaned, reaching up to place her hands on his chest.

"I can end your loneliness, erase your fear and give you the structure you need. Come with me."

Opinions

2010-10-18T18:51:00.000-05:00

You've heard me ramble on and read my stories, but I'd like to hear from more of you, so I'm posing a few questions and would really appreciate whatever answer or answers you'd be willing to share.

1. Is this your first time reading this blog? If so, do you think you'll revisit? If you've been here before, what part to you like/dislike?

2. What's your favorite erotic activity (real)?

3. What's your favorite erotic activity (fantasy)?

4. What was the last book you read?

5. Are you into spanking - giving or receiving?

6. When was the last time you cried from laughing?

7. Do you enjoy giving/receiving oral sex?

Randomness

2010-10-16T12:21:00.000-05:00

Wow. I hadn't realized how long it has been since I put up a new post! October has been a busy month, but still, I should be punished for not keeping up with the blog better (hehe) - suggestions?????

Which brings up an interesting fact. As many of you know, I'v been struggling with the whole idea of being submissive lately. I finally decided that I wasn't submissive, but a bottom. Now, I'm not even sure that's true. I have finally decided - I'm neither. I'm just me.

I like sex - sweet, soft, romantic sex. The kind that makes me feel like a beautiful and rare flower meant to be treasured and cherished. Where every moment is a gift and a simple kiss is a kingdom.

I like a quickie. Fast, hard, desperate. Nothing but pure need driven erotica.

I like it hard and rough. Hands tugging my head back, gripping my hair. A mouth and tongue so demanding I can't help but respond. A hard, driving fuck that forces every thought, every concern out of my mind until I'm nothing but body filled with need and passion.

I like it kinky. Toys are meant to be played with, so play with them. Experiment - give me a spanking to redden - but NOT bruise my ass. Tweak my nipples, bit them until pain merges with pleasure and the two become one. Let me do the same to you if I want to. Tie your hands so you can't touch me unless I want you to. Let me suck your dick because it gives ME pleasure and power. Let me laugh at your frustration when you try to touch me and I won't let you. Let me suffer the consequence when I do release you and you teach me that I belong with you.

See - not complicated at all.

What I love about you

2010-10-04T20:03:00.000-05:00

I love how I feel when you look at me, even a simple glance in my direction.

I love when you hold my hand and run your thumb over mine

I love when touch my arm or lower back when we're walking, being a gentleman but caring about me as well.

I love when you brush my wild hair from my face but then continue to play with the red tangles.

I love when you lift me off my feet so easily.

I love how when I look up at you I first see your neck and bottom of your chin before I get to your eyes.

I love how your lips feel on my skin.

I love how your arms wrap around me like a warm force field protecting me for the world.

I love the sound of your voice. I can pick your voice out of a loud, crowded room instinctively.

I love way my head fits so well on your chest.

I love falling asleep on your chest,wrapped in the blanket of your arms and waking up with you still next me.

I love the feel of your hands on my neck, my cheek, my breasts, my ass.

I love that you make me feel alive and young and beautiful and wanted when I feel dead and old and used up.

I love you.

Is it real?

2010-09-28T20:25:00.000-05:00

So, how do you know if it's real? Real love. First step - Define Real. Second Step - Define Love. Someone acked me the other day if my nails were real - I said yes, they are. Seriously. They are not a figment of the imagination. then the same person asked if they were really mine. Again, I said yes. I paid for them, ergo - they are really mine. Are they natural? No. I get the acryllics put on so that my natural nails are very brittle and break easily - so easily that if left naked, they break below the quick and that really, really hurts.

But, I digress. Real. Let's get Real, man. It's the Real thing. For real!

Truthfully, I think the word is overused. If you feel it, it's real. Even if you feel it for only a moment. In that one pure moment, you feel connected, glorious. You feel the rightness of the moment and the purity of the feeling. The "real" world disappears and all the exists is you and the other person - then yes, it's real. Maybe for a moment, maybe for a lifetime, but at that moment in time - it's real.

Love. I just love those shoes! Love! Love! Love! "Love is patient. Love is Kind" Love is Blind.

Talk about an overused word - and this statement from a Romance writer! Seriously, though, I believe it would take a herculean effort to define this word let along the feelings associated with it. But if, when that person's arms hold you, you want to live there. You can't imagine a better place on earth. You want to cuddle and fuck and talk and grope and kiss and nuzzle and bite and fuck some more - it's love. Maybe, like "real" it will only last for a moment, maybe for a lifetime, but at that moment in time - it's love.

A few things to love about Autumn

2010-09-25T16:23:00.000-05:00

1. Less change of heat exhaustion when fucking outside.

2. Fewer mosquitos chomping in tasty bits when fucking outside.

3. Cashmere sweaters - especially the ones blended with silk rubbing against naked breasts

4. Perfect hot tub weather.

5. Apples. Yum.

6. Cool nights

7. Playing in the leaves and thinking of Fairies.

8. Semi-clothed trees. I like things that are semi-clothed.

9. New season of Glee.

10. Cuddling to stay warm on chilly night.

Bottoms up

2010-09-21T17:52:00.002-05:00

So I've been struggling with this whole "am I submissive or am I not" plucking the daisy thing. After much self analysis and with the help of a few close friends, I've decided a few things.

6 layers of deliciousnes

First, I don't like labels. I mean - once we put a label on something we set the stage for stereotypes and misunderstandings. Truthfully, the title/label I am most proud of is "Mom" but I'm not exactly the typical mom in many ways. I fix lots of home cooked meals, bake cakes from scratch, yell at the kids for their homework and not picking up the laundry, but I also write BDSM erotic for fuck's sake!!!

Maid with Attitude

Second, if I HAVE to pick a label for my sexuality - and apparently I do - I think I'm closer to a "Bottom" than a submissive. And what, you ask, is the difference? I'm not entirely sure, but to my way of thinking a Bottom is someone who prefers the submissive role in a sexual encounter. Have to admit - I like to serve. I like giving head, kneeling before a man, bending over a chair, anticipating his needs, giving a good deep tissue massage. Hell, I even like having my ass spanking on occassion (I'm just really not into bruises!) But ultimately, I need to know even though I'm playing a submissive role, that all it is - just playing. Outside of sexual encounters, I really hate being submissive.

Please note that I mean NO disrespect to true submissive men and women. On the contrary, I have nothing but respect for your determination, self control and selflessness. It's just not me.

This image still turns me on and makes me want to find some vintage panties.

Manners?

2010-09-13T20:56:00.000-05:00

Lately I've been questioning my submissiveness. For a while I wonder why and in truth, I'm still not sure. But I'm beginning to think that the problem lay in a basic lack of respect. Not so much respect from my dominant or even respected directed toward me, but the lack of respect I see many dominants exhibiting toward any submissive. I don't like lack of respect. In fact, a lack of respect royally pisses me off. I know the phrase - "it's not what others think of you but what you think of yourself that matters" and I totally agree with it, but I don't think many can deny that we all, in even a small way, place a value on others' opinions of us.

Will I still write in the BDSM genre - you get I will. It's hot as hell so no worries there. I just may not be living it. I don't believe this makes me a hypocrite, after all, Agatha Christie wrote murder mysteries and to my knowledge, she never committed a murder.

So, whether I choose to be a submissive or simply a Giver of Pleasure, I want to be able to respect who and what I am. Whether I bend over a spanking bench and allow someone to flog my ass or whether I say "No Way" I need to be able to respect myself.

Believe it or not, I'm a rather shy person with not so high self esteem. I also will "fly" rather than "fight" if in a difficult situation. I really think that being a submissive has exasperated this issue since it is so easy, as a submissive, to stay silent and allow the dominate to make all the decisions. I understand I have a safe word (or at least should have one), but I also know that many times that word can and will be ignored or that subs have been chastized for using a safe word. This is TOTALLY not cool.

So why am I questioning who and what I am? I'm not sure. But I know that by kneeling before another person and totally bending my wants and needs to match those of that person is not the way I need to gain confidence in myself. For the record, I know plenty of submissive- both male and female - who are highly respected by their partner, feel extremely confident and self assured and lead happy, fulfilled lives. I'm thrilled for them (and a tad bit jealous in all truth), but I'm not sure that's for me anymore.

So what am I? I have no idea. But I plan on enjoying the journey to find out.

Disclaimer: For those of you who know both me and hubby - this is in NO WAY meant as a criticism of him. He completely supports my "hiatus" from Sub-hood if it's what I need at the moment. He's a good man. I love him for his open mindedness - amongst many, many other things!

Sanctuary

2010-09-11T12:20:00.000-05:00

Derrick had rented this space for the specific purposes of allowing Melinda a sanctuary away from her cantankerous aunt and her lecherous uncle as well as a play area for the two of them. Melinda had moved in with her relatives after her aunt had been diagnosed with cancer. Now, the cancer was in remission, but Melinda’s sense of family duty obliged her to remain in the household. She longed for a place to which she could escape, if only for a few hours and now, she had that. She sighed, thinking how lucky she was to have a Master as compassionate and kind as Derrick.
Following Derrick’s instructions, she had also purchased a sturdy wooden four-posted bed which she made up with soft cotton sheets, warm blankets and fluffy pillows. Rather than purchasing artwork for the walls, Melinda had carefully arranged hooks from which Derrick’s favorite implements hung – a cat, a leather paddle, raw silk restraints, a wooden paddle and three floggers of varying lengths. She also placed the hooks in such a pattern that Derrick could attach her restraints to them as well, thereby immobilizing her for his pleasure. Humming, Melinda placed more silk rope, a blindfold, two anal plugs, several vibrators, lubrication, nipple clips and a bag of clothespins in the top drawer of the small painted dresser.
Feeling rather pleased with herself, Melinda put the kettle to boil as she heard the door open. She inhaled deeply, savouring his scent. Turning, she ran to Him and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes so that she could reach his lips. She kissed him fiercely, his hands entwined in her hair. She pulled back slightly and kissed his cheeks, his chin, his neck.
“I take it you’re happy to see me?” he laughed.
“Thank you so much for all of this. It’s better than I ever dreamed it would be,” she answered in between raining kisses down his chest, his biceps. God she loved his arms. Only then did she realize he was burdened with packages.
“Oh, here, let me help you with those,” she said contritely.
“Not so fast,” he dropped a kiss on her head and he placed the bags on the small table. “I brought in a few supplies but I want you to open this one now. I want to know if you like it.”
“You know any gift will please me,” she assured him. Melinda smiled happily and sat on one of the hard kitchen chairs.
“Weren’t you going to make some tea?” Derrick asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh! I forgot,” Melinda admitted, blushing. She jumped up as the kettle began to whistle and prepared the tea, adding extra sugar to Derrick’s cup.
“Here you are,” she said placing a biscuit on his saucer.
She watched carefully as he took a sip of the dark, sweet tea, inordinately pleased when he smiled at her.
“Here you go,” he handed her a white box. Lifting the lid, she gasped. A corset. A lovely black corset trimmed in light pink lace with a matching g-string. Melinda was speechless, her eyes tearing up as she gazed at the beautiful creation.
“Oh my,” she finally murmured, “I never dreamed I’d ever have anything so beautiful. I always wanted a corset, but they’re just so expensive, I couldn’t afford one.”
“I want you have beautiful things. You deserve them. However, I want you to understand something. When you are here, you are totally and completely mine,” he looked deeply into her eyes. “You will have some rules and the first one is that you will wear only what I tell you to wear or you will be completely naked. Once you walk through that door, you will remove your clothing. If I want you clothed, I will tell you, otherwise, remain naked,” he instructed.
“Yes, my Lord,” she answered. When she saw him cock an eyebrow, she stood and quickly disrobed, pleased to see his eyes darken as he stared at her hardened nipples. “Shall I put this on?”
“No, not yet. I think I’d prefer you naked. Go put it away and then you may open the rest of the packages later, after I’ve left. The next time I come here, I will expect you to wear it, though.”
Melinda scurried to the do her Lover's bidding.
“Now, I want to test out how well you’ve arranged my toys. Hold out your wrists,” he instructed, his voice hard. Melinda had felt herself begin to get wet the moment he had walked into the apartment, but now, her pussy dripped with excitement. Derrick removed the silk restraints from their place on the wall and attached them to her wrists, allowing about four inches of play between her hands.
“That should do. Now stand up. It’s time for a little spanking, I think.”
Melinda happily and quickly obeyed. The last spanking she had received was well over a week ago and her ass craved the touch of his strong hand. Derrick then attached the rope to the hook and Melinda braced her hands against the wall. He ran his hands down her back and along the curve of her bottom. She closed her eyes and sighed. God, she loved the feel of his hand on her flesh. Slowly, he parted her ass cheeks and ran his fingers up her slit. Grasping her clit, he pulled just a bit, laughing softly when she gasped.
“Ready for me, are you? Your pussy lips are coated with your own juices already,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, M, but you’ll just have to wait a bit longer. I want your ass hot and red before I take you.”
His hand came down on her ass hard and firm. She jumped and a small yelp escaped her lips. Damn that stung! But, oh Lord, it felt good. He continued to spank her, giving her no respite from his stern and relentless smacks. For the first twenty or so swats, she endured quietly, but after that, she couldn’t help straining against her bindings.
“Go ahead, wiggle all you want. Cry if you have to, but you know I’m not going to stop until I choose to. Besides, we need to be sure you’ve attached these hooks securely, don’t we?” he warned.
“Yes, my lord, we do, and thank you,” she murmured. Now that she’d been given permission, Melinda pulled and tugged and squirmed while Derrick continued to assault her bottom. She wasn’t sure what was wetter, her face or her pussy. Just when she felt she could take no more, he stopped.
“Nice,” he complimented. “I know that hurt, little one, but you loved it, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, my lord. I did love it,” she answered.
Gently, Derrick unhooked her hands but left them bound together. He took her face in his hands, kissing away the tears. Melinda melted into his arms.
“Now, I want you to undress me but I’m going to keep your hands bound. You can do that, can’t you?”
Not trusting herself to speak, Melinda nodded and began unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his hairy chest as more of it became visible. Fearing she would have an orgasm just staring at his beautiful body, she hurriedly slipped it off his shoulders. If she dared orgasm without permission, there would be hell to pay. Next, she knelt to remove his shoes. Reaching up, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. Pushing these down his legs, she slipped them off his feet and folded them neatly before sitting back on her heels and looking up at him.
“Go ahead, you can suck on me,” he granted.
Thrilled, Melinda eagerly kissed the tip of his cock, cradling his heavy balls in her hands. She licked the shaft before sliding her lips over his entire length. She moaned, delighting in the taste of his skin. Slowly, she bobbed her head back and forth, sliding her mouth along his manhood, her teeth carefully scraping his flesh, her hands playing with his clean-shaven jewels. Her knees ached from the hard floor, her ass was on fire from his hand and she felt as if she could stay in this position and worship him forever. She felt a quiver deep within her womb and tried to control it.
He grasped her hair and pulled her head back. His eyes mesmerised her with their intensity.
“You weren’t about to come without permission were you?” he asked sternly.
“No! Well, yes, I was, but I didn’t!” she assured him. “I’m sorry. You just taste so wonderful!”
“Alright, I forgive you this time. Go over to the bed and lie on your belly.”
Melinda got to her feet, her knees wobbly and her thighs slick with her own juices, and positioned herself on the bed. She heard him open the dresser drawer.
“Did you prepare for me?” he asked.
“I did, my lord,” Melinda answered, pleased that she had remembered to administer her daily enema despite the excitement of setting up the apartment.
Melinda tense slightly as she felt the cold tip of a plug press against her anus. She hoped that he had chosen the smaller of the two, but knew that the choice was his and she was happy to endure whatever he wanted for her. As he continued to slowly insert the toy, she realized how silly she had been. Of course he had chosen the largest.
“Just relax,” he coaxed. Melinda winced, feeling as if she were being split in two, but finally, the plug was fully inserted. Despite the initial pain, she felt a wonderful fullness. She hated the plug because of the discomfort, but loved it as well. It was a constant reminder of his ownership, his right to control her, a right which she had willingly given to him. Wearing the plug pleased him and pleasing him was her utmost concern.
He slapped her already stinging ass and said, “Now turn over.”
Whimpering slightly, Melinda did so, acutely aware of the plug in her anus, her burning rump, her dripping pussy, her restrained hands. She watched as Derrick tied first one ankle, then the other to the posts as the foot of the bed. He released her hands, only to attach them to the head posts. Now, tied spread-eagle before him, she felt completely helpless and so excited she was afraid she’d explode. He had not yet given her permission to come but oh, how she wanted to. Her eyes widened when he reached for the soft suede flogger.
He ran the strips of leather down her body and she arched as far as she could to meet the tantalizing implement.
“This might hurt, but you should have anticipated that I’d want you naked and been ready for me, Not to mention that you almost came without permission earlier,” he said softly.
“But, my lord, you said I was forgiven,” she pointed out.
“Not when you were sucking on me, my dear, but when you were undressing me,” he explained.
Melinda’s mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. How had he known that?
“Don’t you realize by now,that I see everything you do? Now, You’ll be a good girl and take this without complaint, won’t you?”
“Yes, my lord. I will,” Melinda agreed.
She jerked and bit her lip to keep from howling as he brought the flogger down on her exposed pussy. She did not want to humiliate herself by screaming during a deserved punishment.
“Pick a number,” he ordered.
“4.”
“Wrong,” he said, whipping her sex again. “Try again.”
Pain shot through every part of her body.
“7.”
“Wrong again.” Melinda screamed, despite promising herself that she would remain silent. Her Master was fair, but wielded the flogger with a firm hand. She knew her count wouldn’t begin until she had guessed the correct number.
When she could speak again, she said, “9.”
“That’s right,” he answered. “Nine whips to your wet little pussy. Go ahead and scream if you want. I don’t mind, besides, you know you want this.”
“Yes, I do. Thank you, my lord,” she whispered, grateful.
By the time he finished, Melinda’s pussy was as red and hot as her ass and her face again covered with salty tears. He replaced the flogger before kneeling between her outstretched legs.
“You were very good, Melinda. So good, that now I’m going to fuck you,” he thrust himself forcefully into her hot, wet tunnel.
“Oh God!” Suddenly, the pain vanished from her body and all she felt was him.
He filled her, touched her every essence, completed her physically and spiritually. She arched her back and strained her arms against her restraints. Fuck, how she wanted to get her hands on his chest, his back, his tight ass. He kissed her face and continued to pump into her. Melinda felt a gyser builder inside of her.
“Please, Sir, please let me come,” she begged.
“Alright, go ahead. You’ve earned it,” he granted.
Melinda tipped her head back and allowed wave after wave of pure pleasure wash over her. Her body trembled and she screamed, her pussy tightening around his cock, milking it, wanting more. Colours exploded behind her eyes and vaguely, she was aware of him pulling her hair and his ragged breath in her ear. She was no longer lying on the bed, but floating somewhere near heaven.
“My turn,” he whispered to her.
“No!” she yelled as he pulled out of her, she crashed back to earth, devastated at the loss of him inside of her.
“Oh, God,” she screamed as hot semen seared her stomach, her nipples, her face as he shot his load over her quivering body. She felt her own passion rising again.
“Did you just say ‘No’ to me?” he murmured, nibbling on her ear. “Ah, my little Melinda, I’ll have to plan your punishment for that won’t I?”
Sore, sticky with his seed, bruised, Melinda snuggled into her Master’s warm chest. She’d never felt more alive and loved.
Giggling, she answered, “Yes, my lord. You certainly will.”

Jim and Angela

2010-09-04T14:17:00.000-05:00

Lots of bloggers open up their blogs to Guest Bloggers, so I thought I'd try the same. Comments would be VERY MUCH appreciated - enjoy!

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Jim and Angela

It was a hot night, slightly humid; Angela had been sweating since she first stepped outside. Her boyfriend, Jim and a few close friends were having a bon fire at their place in the country. Aside from a few inappropriate remarks from a friend of a friend’s guest, everyone was thoroughly enjoying themselves. With loud music, dancing, hot sweaty bodies moving against each other, the party was all a person could ever desire.

Jim had picked up his guitar and was playing a song by the fire. Angela watched as Jim’s left hand worked the fret board, up and down, each finger moving with what seemed to be a mind of its own. His every move was strong, held firm yet executed with the utmost grace as he hit every note. Angela’s mind began to wander, remembering the many other talents those hands of his possess.

“No,” she thought to herself as she felt herself beginning to get moist, “not yet.” Snapping back to reality, she realized that Jim was calling to her. He motioned for her to sit next to him.

Taking her rightful place by his side she lay her head on his shoulder, his muscles, soft and firm, made her feel safe and secure. She had just thought to herself how nice it would be if Jim would hold her when her wish was granted. Pulling her onto his lap, Jim wraps both arms around her and kissed her passionately on the lips right there in front of everyone.

Jim always had a thing for public displays of affection. He said that he was proud to be with her and wanted the whole world to see how much he loved her.

His hand brushes through her hair, his finger lightly graces her soft cheek; the others around the fire look on in awe at the display. They break their kiss and gaze into each others eyes longingly. They want each other but the party isn’t over yet and having sex in front of a crowd, as exiting as it may be, wasn’t a very good idea. Their lust would have to wait, all the while continuing to grow.

Hours went by. Finally the party winds down and Jim and Angela are alone. For the rest of the night after that kiss they did nothing but tease the other. The occasional show of skin when no one else was looking, a light touch here and there but Jim’s favorite however, was to softly whisper how he was going to take her later. The sound of his voice drove Angela wild. The way he would describe in graphic detail exactly how he would remove all her clothing and all the places he would kiss, nibble, suck and massage nearly drove Angela over the edge before the party was even over.

As soon as they entered the house the fire in their eyes grew into a raging inferno as if the devil himself has kindled it, consuming all of their thoughts, feelings, and actions. They locked lips and pulled the other as close as physics would allow. Jim’s hands found their way up the back of Angela’s shirt. Massaging his way up her back, Jim took Angela’s shirt along for the ride, lifting it up and off of her once he got to the top. Angela’s bra was soon to follow.

Not wanting to be out done, Angela had to make them match, so she quickly removed Jim’s shirt. Now they stood there, both topless and locked in a spiral of passion and longing that nether wanted to escape from. Soft skin on skin, Angela’s breasts pressed firmly to Jim’s chest.

Her boobs weren’t large but still a nice handful, a B cup, nice and perky. Her nipples were so hard that they could cut glass. Jim’s chest was quite hairy and muscular. He had broad shoulders and well defined arms. His abs weren’t cut from stone but were by no means weak.

Picking Angela up, Jim relocated them to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. They continued their kiss, their tongues dancing in the others mouth, hands willed to move on lust alone exploring every inch of the others half naked body. Breaking the kiss, Jim begins to kiss his way down Angela’s neck, gently nibbling as we goes. He works his way to her right boob and takes her nipple in his mouth and begins kissing and licking and sucking on it. He takes the left one in his hand and slowly kneading it in wide circles.

Angela moans in approval and arches her back off the bed, forcing her tits harder into Jim’s hand and mouth. She gasps for air as electric shocks flow through her body. She feels Jim begin to nibble on her hard nipple. She was in heaven, but then things got better.

Kissing his way down Angela’s stomach, stopping to give her belly button a little attention, Jim makes his way to her very wet pussy. When he reached her glorious sex, Jim was pleased to find that he had made her so wet that the insides of her thighs were coated in her succulent juices.

Wasting no time, he proceeds to indulge himself in her. He licks his way from top to bottom then back to the top. He plunges his tongue deep inside her. He wanted all of her, he loved her taste, her aroma and he wanted it all.

He returns to the outside, licking and kissing his way around then working his way back inside to lap up more of her sweet juices. Working his tongue around inside of Angela, slowly, tantalizingly, working his way to her swollen clit.

Finally, after what, to Angela, feels like an eternity, Jim reaches her clit, and like a king returning triumphantly from war, makes his presence known. The euphoria started with a lick, licking all over, then a kiss, gentle sucking, very delicately and precisely using his teeth, then back to sucking, a little harder, gradually building pressure until he was running wide open throttle.

Angela thrashed about as if she was having a seizure. To the contrary, the smile on her face showed untold bliss. The kind of feeling that only Jim can bring her. Moaning and screaming his name, she bedded Jim to fuck her, she wanted; she needed his cock inside of her. Jim however had other ideas…for now that is.

Continuing to suck on Angela’s clit like a kid with a lollipop, Jim feels Angela convulse violently. This unmistakable action tells him that she is close to orgasm. Reaching both hands up and taking a tit in each hand, he plays with her nipples and gently massages in wide circles much the same as he did earlier but faster and vigorously.

As if possessed by the devil himself, Angela’s back comes off the bed, mouth wide open and eyes nearly rolled back in her head as a thunderous climax inundates her body with wave after wave of sheer ecstasy. Electricity shoots down her legs, her muscles tighten around Jim’s head. Screaming, moaning, gasping for air, uncontrolled shaking, finally she lies back down to catch her breath.

FML

2010-09-02T18:24:00.002-05:00

So yesterday it was pouring down rain when I had to go to work but I didn't know that the night before when I chose and ironed a long white skirt but then it was raining so i grabbed my coffee (got love hubby for making me coffee every morning) and ran out to my car since I couldn't find an umbrella but then I realized I had left my keys on the kitchen counter so I ran back and hubby handed me the keys and then I ran back toward the car but then my purse got caught on the fence and tipped and then tipped and then the phone and my contact case - containing my contacts fell into a mud puddle and I kind of tripped a bit on the lace of my skirt and then held the coffee against my chest when I bent to pick up the phone and contacts and then spilled a bit on my top and white skirt and then caught the hem of the white skirt in my heel and ripped a bit of the lace off so it was dangling in the mud and then I drove to work and handed out a test and learned that "Stricture" really means "a verse in the Bible" and "Foray" means either "a sun room" or "four ray guns" and then I started to get annoyed. Lunch finally came and my frozen cardboard box 'o food was ever so delicious when the microwave didn't heat it all the way through and then I drove home in the rain and my flat tire indicator light went on and then I pulled over and got out of the car without an umbrella because it was too awkward on the side of the fucking highway and checked my tires and discovered one was low but not flat and then I went home and no one knew what they wanted for dinner and then finally decided on pizza so I went out to get pizza and then wanted to write but then I kept getting distracted by boys and men and friends and hungry dogs so I have up and then today it was raining again when I went to work and then after work I went to pick up my mother's medications and some groceries and deliver them to her and then attempted to drive home but then the car was handling weird so I stopped the car got out and sure enough had a flat tire (which I had mentioned to hubby the low tire the night before but he forgot about it) so I limped the car back to my mom's slanted driveway and then crawled beneath the car to determine if I actually had a flat tire and sure enough I did and then I moved all of my groceries so I could get to the car jack and called my 17 year old son and made him come help me but then the ever so helpful mail delivery guy saw me, stopped, laughed and then changed the tire for me and then I came home to make dinner and dropped bread crumbs on the floor and stepped on them and then when I went to get the broom in the other room stepped in the dog pee and then I cried and then my son gave me a glass of iced Celtic Crossing so I could finish getting dinner and then I wasn't really hungry.

So tomorrow WILL be better!!!!

Castles in the Air

2010-08-31T23:20:00.002-05:00

I’m living a life of love and lies
Popping percs or shooting shots as
Lying in the grass as the world flies by
Painting rainbows and building castles in the sky.

Half alive but feeling no pain
Smiling and grinning and laughing at the rain
I’m living the dream the American way
Plastered and drugged with my feet stuck in clay.

I hold out my arms to grab a beam of sun
Burning my own flesh with a desire to run
I’m living a life of love and lies
Trapped in a world of my own design.

2010-08-30T16:35:00.000-05:00

I like Fairies. Dumb, but true. Now, the questions remain - why do I like fairies and what kind do I like? I like fairies with attitude - not the sweet little butterfly like creatures, but I've always like Tinkerbell - a fairy who knows what she wants and goes after it/him. I like the idea of magic and mischief, beauty and strength. A fairy can be anything - lovely, ugly, evil, good, but always a bit mystical. Yep. I wanna be a fairy.

All of these images can be found on photobucket.com.

Him

2010-08-24T20:59:00.000-05:00

He picked me up when I fell off my bike and skinned my knee. He pushed me into the deep end of the public pool to teach me to swim - and to scare the living shit out of me. He followed me on dates and tossed popcorn at me and that date in the movie theater. He actually told me to watch both ways before I crossed the street - when I was 16 years old! My father? No. My brother.

He was a simple man. He wanted a wife who loved him. Children someday. He wanted a job which could support him and his wife and utilized his Bachelor of Science degree in Science/Secondary education. He took a part-time job, like so many do, in order to make ends meet.

He ran his hand over my swollen stomach. He grimaced and grinned simutaneously - the only person I've ever know who can do that - when he felt his nephew kick against his hand. He scolded me when I ate cake and peanut butter and carmel ice cream topping. Told me I should be eating vegetables and fruit instead. He should have been my son's godfather.

I visited him the other day. Brought him flowers. Talked to him. Cried for him. I used to be able to hear him talk to me, but not this time. This time, I felt him. He hugged me. I felt his love wash over me. He's still with me and he's still protecting me.

My favorite erotic act.

2010-08-22T19:18:00.000-05:00

Kissing is my absolute favorite erotic, romantic, affectionate, comforting activity. When my sons were little and they’d slap an open mouthed, wet, slobbery kiss on my cheek my heart melted. When I placed my lips on their feathery soft little heads, I understood pure and unconditional love.

I will never, never forget the last time I saw my grandmother – she lay on a low bed in a nursing home. I held her hand and told her I had to get home to fix dinner for the family. She said, “Go on, take care of them. They’re what matters now and besides, you can’t do anything more for me.” And she kissed me. Her lips dry and papery thin. My heart broke.
I’ll admit it – I kiss my little doggie’s head. I love her. Can’t help it. She’s cute.
But a romantic kiss – Holy Goddess. Not only will my toes curl and my foot pop up, but I forget who I am and where I am. I spiral around the universe and nothing exists but lips and tongue and teeth and body. To be pulled by strong arms into an embrace is heaven. Teeth catching my lips, a tongue demanding surrender, arms wrapped around me allowing no escape (as if I would anyway!). Then, a hand – or two – sliding down my back, squeezing my ass cheeks, pulling me in even closer. Sometimes, a sharp slap to the cheeks, stinging the skin while the soft lips gently stroke beauty and passion into flames.

I love kissing.

Nightmare - a poem

2010-08-18T21:11:00.002-05:00

Endless chaos and wakeless dreams
Swirling storms and storming seas
Fill the universe with need and greed
And distort all beauty causing love to bleed.

The living live in fear of death
But the inevitable end is not a threat
Simply a promise of another life to come
A path unknown and so far, unsung

Flowing blood - red and bright
Grants welcome color to the night
Of endless chaos and wakeless dreams
In a life of fear and pain and screams.

Greed

2010-08-15T22:01:00.000-05:00

He kissed her neck. At least Katie thought he did. Steven’s touch was so light, so gentle, what she thought was a kiss could have been the brush of fairy’s wing. His hands, though, holding her head firmly yet with infinite care, were no illusion. Beneath her own palms, she felt his heart beating steadily. She wanted to touch his skin – feel it’s heat – but she also didn’t mind the thin barrier of his soft shirt.
Oh yeah. Definitely a kiss and no fairy this time. Her body trembled as Steven nipped at her skin. She tilted her head, offering him every millimeter of flesh she could. Tonight, she felt greedy. She wanted him – all of him. And she wanted to be the center of his universe – not forever, just for the next few hours. She wanted him to take everything she could give – her skin, her ass, her pussy, her tongue, her teeth, her love.
He broke contact and she frowned with displeasure. But quick as a wink, he was back and her hands felt his naked chest. Thank God he had hair on that chest. She ran her fingers through it, bending her head so she could follow with her lips and tongue. Greedy. She wanted to feel and taste him – every inch of him. He entangled his fingers in her long locks and let her play.
Katie slowly worked her way down his tight abs feeling herself get wetter with each kiss. She ran her finger around the band of his boxers, wanting to make this last, wanting to enjoy each moment.
“I like where this is going,” he said.
Damn. Just his voice caused another surge of wetness to coat her thighs. Taking his words as permission to continue, she unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans and boxers to the floor. He was only semi-hard – absolutely perfect. Katie had a rather small mouth as she knew that only when he was a bit relaxed could she swallow him completely.
He sat down on the bed and kicked off his shoes. Without taking her mouth away, she finished undressing him.
“Yes,” he whispered.
He got hard. Katie sighed and felt a brief surge of pride. She loved making him hard, especially when he felt the soft silk turn to hard steel in her mouth. He lay back on the bed and she crawled on top of him, her hands cradling his balls. She ran her tongue up and down his shaft flicking the tip. He groaned and grasped her hair tightly, firmly but gently pushing her head back down.
He tasted beautiful. The softness of his skin, the texture of the muscle, the flavor of his pre-cum. If she could , she’d give up food and just live off him.

Submission versus compassion

2010-08-14T13:50:00.000-05:00

Here's a question. What's the difference between submission and wanting to please your partner? I've always considered myself sexually submissive, but I'm beginning to wonder. Do I truly gain pleasure from doing things I don't really want to do just to please my partner or do I capitulate simply from a desire to give him (or her) pleasure? If the second is true, then what, actually, am I? Still submissive? A door mat? A person of both passion and compassion?

Your thoughts?

The beginning of something beautiful - fiction

2010-08-12T19:52:00.000-05:00

"I want you to know, I’m really happy you’ve agreed. I’ve watched you and wanted to meet you for a long time now, I just didn’t want you think I was a stalker or anything.”
Katie followed him the short distance to his apartment complex, parking in a visitor spot.
Before she could gather her purse and check her lipstick, he was at her door opening it for her.
“Did I mention that I love a woman in a dress?” Steven asked as he offered his hand to assist her out of the car.
Unused to such gallantry, Katie didn’t know what to say, so she just smiled, placed her hand in his and locked her car. He continued to hold her hand as they walked to his apartment.Stepping inside, she looked around.Yep – definitely a man’s apartment.A bit cluttered, but that just showed he was a busy guy. Aside from a coffee mug and a bowl, the kitchen was clean as was the rest of the apartment.

“Tell me if I go too fast,” he cautioned as he closed the door behind him. He removed his coat, tossing it onto the back of a chair then helped Katie off with her coat. She expected her simple tweed to be deposited next to his, but instead, Joseph opened a small closet and carefully hung the coat.
“I will,” she assured.
Without preamble, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Katie thought she would drown as his lips pushed against hers and his tongue probed her mouth and his teeth gently nipped at her bottom lip. Her own hands developed a mind of their own as they pressed against his chest. Urgently, his kiss deepened and became rough. Katie’s pulse raced. Her hands clawed at his shirt, desperate in their desire to touch flesh. He reached down to her leg, her thigh, under her skirt.He grasped her panties and pulled.Easily, they slipped down her thighs and she lifted her legs to push them off while fumbling with his belt.He pushed her hands away and, without removing his lips, whipped the belt off and lowered his trousers, stepping quickly out of them. He ripped his mouth away from hers and turned her around so that she faced the wall.
Katie heard the ripping of a package and assumed it was a condom. God!She had never done this before and fervently hoped that this would not be the last time as her honey moistened not only her sex, but her thighs as well.
“No,” she responded breathily.“Please, don’t stop.”
He reached around her body, unbuttoning her blouse. She began to turn around, but he put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stay in position.“I want to do this all myself. I’ve dreamed of this,” he whispered into her ear. “Keep your hands on the wall.”
Katie couldn’t breath. She nodded her understanding, shifting her weight as an almost overwhelming desire to turn around seized her. She’d never been experienced anything like this. Lust and excitement coursed through her veins. He finished unbuttoning the blouse, but rather than remove it he simply reached into it and unhooked her bra. He pushed it up over her breasts, tweaking her pink nipples to erectness. Katie moaned, closed her eyes, and wondered if a person could actually die of pleasure.
Without preamble, he pushed himself against her wetness. With one strong thrust he entered her, pinching her nipples at the same time. Katie tipped her head back against his shoulder. Nothing could have prepared her for this. Within a few quick, hard thrusts, she trembled and screamed out her pleasure. The world spiraled away and all she knew was him. She sagged against him and would have fallen if not for his strong arms around her.
“Steven, that was – beautiful,” she whispered.
“That, Darlin’, was just the beginning,” he laughed as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed.

Pirate Orge - part Deuce

2010-08-04T08:02:00.000-05:00

Where did I leave off? Oh yeah, the shoe thing.

Damn my feet hurt that night, so naturally, I tried to keep off of them as much as possible. Maybe the Pirates of old were vicious cutthroats (and many of the were! Good Lord - just read the exploits of the real Captain Morgan and you may well be turned off rum forever!), but Pirate Hubby, Pirate Todd and Pirate Beast were nothing short of gentlemen. They helped to the car, helped me into the cabin and then helped me onto the bed.

Pirate Hubby and Pirate Todd took Wench Isabella onto the back deck where she quickly relieved herself of those confining clothes and received a delightful spanking from the two men. Gotta say - her red, hot ass looked - well - sizzling hot!! The men checked with her often to make sure she was enjoying herself and oh yeah. She was. She was bent over a wrought iron railing, her pert little ass exposed and the delightful sound of hand against skin echoed a bit throught the wooded area. I have to admit - I was envious - but absolutely fascinated and hot watching the proceedings. I KNOW what it feels like to be on the receiving end of Hubby's hand and let me tell you - he can pack a good wallop! But Isabella - man - she took it like a pro and wanted more - hence the envy on my part. Someday I hope to remain as stoic throughout a long spanking session instead of squirming and wiggling all over the place.

Meanwhile, TBK and I were busy pleasuring Pirate Beast. - that will be discussed in Part 3.

Pirate Orgy Antics

2010-08-01T19:57:00.000-05:00

OMG!!!! The Gypsy Rose was an absolute blast! The evening started out with me naked in a pretty little cottage, hubby pouring a couple glasses of wine and the first guest of the evening, our friend T knocked on the door. How can I describe T? Physically, he's of medium height and carries his hard muscles on a lovely wiry, lithe frame. He moves with elegance and grace, quick to offer a hug and never, never would he be ungentlemanly enough to allow a woman to drink alone. He loves women - all sorts of women and for various reasons. We donned our costumes, another couple showed up and off we went to board the ship.

Okay, I need to pause here and mention something rather dumb on my part. Not thinking ahead, I got a pedicure a few days ago. If you've ever gotten a pedicure, you know they have this handy dandy razor blade thingy designed to slice off callouses and dead skin. NASTY! So, after slipping into my thigh-high fishnet stockings and zipping up my over the knee pirate boots (complete with about a 3 inch heel) I hought I looked pretty snazzy. However, after standing for 2 hours on a rocking boat and then bar hopping for another few hours, those fishnets cut into those freshly softened feet making standing decidedly unpleasant!!! Actually, my poor little feet ended up hurting so badly that I actually sat down on the floor of the Piasa Pub to rip those damned boots and stockings off. Since I gave the bartender a splendid view of my dainty parts, he didn't object to having me bare-foot in the bar. 24 hours later, my feet still hurt.

So anywho - we boarded the boat with T, Mr. Man and his wife Rhonda, two other couples and, TBK and her beau - the Beast. They graciously brought along a visiting guest who, hopefully, completely enjoyed her visit to the St. Louis area. The boat was manned by the incredibly beautiful and scantily dressed Wench Martha, captained by hunky Captain Tim and assisting them was the delightful 83 year old Barnacle Bill.

Shockingly, several people had never done a body shot!!!! Rhonda and I thought it our sacred duty to introduce these folks to the concept. Since it was pirate - themed, Rhonda brought orange slices, sugar and Parrot Bay. Here's the process - use the fruit to moisten an area of skin - I prefer the neck - of your "table". Sprinkle the sugar on the juice, place the fruit slice in the table's mouth, lick the sugar, shoot the shot, suck the fruit from the mouth.

Yum!!!

More details to follow.

Oh - care to guess who the only one to be flogged on the Pirate Ship was?????

Pirates

2010-07-30T18:17:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow night is the big night - Pirate Curise!!!I've got an outfit picked out, have a menu of snacks and two bottles of the Captain. Now for conjecture:
Who will lose his or her top first?
Will the hunky Captain Tim play anything but Jimmy Buffett?
Will Wench Martha be a player?
Who will be flogged? (besides me of course!)
Who will do the flogging?
Just how will that kiddy pool be used?

All these answers and more - soon to follow.

I want You - fiction

2010-07-25T12:07:00.000-05:00

I Want You

....................

He whispered into her ear, telling her what he wanted. Telling her what he would do to her.

“I want you.

I want your hot pussy pushed against my mouth so that I can eat you.

I’ll suck on your clit and finger you until you scream.

Then, I’ll fuck you. First hard, fast. I hope you enjoy it, but I really don’t care if you do. Not the first time. The first time is all for me. I’ll hold your wrists above your head, bite each nipple and fuck you until I cum.

“Then – want to know what will happen then?”

“Yes, please,” she begged, her pussy tensed and dripping with sweetness only his voice could inspire.

“Then, my love, you will suck on me. Lick my shaft, my balls, my thighs, my chest, my ass. You'll rim my asshole and stick your tongue up it. You’ll kiss, lick, bite, anoint my body with your mouth until I’m hard again.”

She moaned, wondering if she would explode before he even touched her.

“When I’m ready, I’ll entrap your nipples in clothespins. Keep them hard until I want to suckle them. First, though, I’ll put you up on all fours, your tits hanging down, weighted by the pins. I’ll spank you – gently – just enough to get your ass a nice, warm rosy color. Then, I’ll take your ass. I’ll make it mine, slowly pushing my dick into you, feeling your tightness. When I’ll all the way in, I’ll fuck your asshole. I’ll have already come, so I’ll be in no hurry. I’ll fuck you slow, fast, soft, hard. Whatever I want. Your nipples will beg for release. Eventually, I’ll play with your clit while taking your ass.

You won’t be able to take any more. You’ll come – screaming my name. I’ll pull out, turn you on your back. Suck on a nipple while I release its pin. After a bit, I’ll switch to the other one, putting the pin back on the first.”

“Now? Please, now. Take me,” she whispered.

He laughed. A deep, primal sound.

“I’ll take you as I wish. With a nipple in my mouth, I’ll enter you. Feel your wet pussy encase my rod. I’ll make love to you for hours. We’ll taste each other until we’re both exhausted and completely satiated. When we finish, when I finish, finally, you will never forget. Never.”

She melted into his arms knowing he spoke the truth.

.. ..

Funny

2010-07-24T10:34:00.000-05:00

For some reason, a friend of mine send me this picture because she "thought of me" when she saw it. What do you think?

Theme of the day: Fear

2010-07-22T09:08:00.000-05:00

So, what are you afraid of? I'm actually quite fearful of may things - snakes, spiders, major storms. Blood. OH MY GOD. I just can't handle some one else's blood! I know a girl who is afraid of butterflies and another man afraid of live chickens. But while these things certainly get my heart pumping - and not in a good way - I think, perhaps, intangible fears can be much more terrifying and can make me act more irrational than seeing a spider on my living room wall and running screaming from the room.

So - intangible fears - yeah - that's really digging deep. I can handle the pain of a wicked spanking that leaves my ass bruised for weeks or clips on sensitive body parts, but the fear of losing an loved one transforms me into a babbling moron incapable of living a normal life.

The fear of disappointing a loved one - hell - I'll do just about anything to avoid that or to make amends.

The fear of putting a loved one in danger emotionally or physcially - nope. Can't do it. I immediately because an emotional wreck and am paralyzed by fear. I'd much rather absorb the pain into myself or shut myself away from the person rather than take the chance of hurting him or her. But what do I fear? I'm not sure - loss, causing someone else pain, loneliness, guilt - I'm not sure what I fear.

Fearing tanglibles is so much easier to deal with - at least with spiders - I can always just squish them.

hot tubbing

2010-07-17T12:26:00.000-05:00

I love hot tubbing. Yes, I know i'ts hotter than holy hell here in the Mid-West right now, but I still love it. We just turn the heat off so the water is around 96 degrees. I love getting in it in the afternoon - wearing a little bikini with a tall glass if minted iced tea. Soo decadently relaxing!! Then again, when hubby and I partake in th later evening - sans clothing. He sits on the edge and I administer to him until he gets used to the hot water (He's such a baby about hot water!) Then, we play. Even a light spanking after being in hot water will have an IMMEDIATE and long lasting effect. But perhaps what ingrigues me most about hot tubbing is when we are with a group of people. Suddenly, everyone is groping each other beneath the bubbles and IT'S OK. Spouses sit next to each other and grope the person on the other side so as not to arouse suspicion from spouse. I just find this hilarious and a hell of a lot of fun. So - here's to hot tubbing - a fabulous way to relieve stress, enjoy foreplay and make new friends.

Pirate Boat

2010-07-15T12:02:00.000-05:00

At the end of the month I will become a pirate wench. That's right. Some of our kinky friends are joining us for a wonderful R-X rated pirate cruise aboard the Gypsy Rose. I can't wait! Here's the dilemna, though. What to wear??? I do have a pirate wench costume, but after the cruise, we may go winery hopping or over to the Alton Block party, which means I need to be somewhat respectable-or not?? Decisions, decisions. Also, do I plan "games" or just let things roll along - after all, my friends have wonderfully active minds so I have no doubt they will come up with something wonderful. Flogging, walking the plank, eye patches, blindfolds.

Suggestions would be greatly appreciated!

Apologizes

2010-07-12T10:36:00.000-05:00

My apologies for the last blog - a bit of a downer. It also occurred to me that I left out one important fact - I've been off my anti-depressent for several weeks now - maybe that had something to do with it as well. Many sent "good thoughts" to me and I appreciate that - however, I do owe my readers something more upbeat to read so - here's my apology blog.

She stared at the floor, not daring to raise her head. His rough work jeans felt scratchy and stiff against her bare skin. His left arm held her firmly over his lap and he spoke to her in soothing tones, but she did not speak, simply allowed the calm of his voice to wash over her.

The fault, really, is mine. I should have been stricter earlier, but I wanted to fuck you, not discipline you. You have that affect on me

She felt him shift and heard the click of a cap.

I had to dress before punishing you just to be sure I wouldn't take you again. I want you to think about this lesson, not enjoy it. That's why you will feel the heat of my hand on your lovely ass for days.

Her vision wavered as tears puddled in her eyes. He was such a wonderful man. Her ass was hot and stinging, but she knew it could have been much worse. Earlier, when he was playing with her nipples, she had yelped and, before realizing what she was dong, had actually pushed his hand away. Humiliation made her drop her head and she allowed the tears to splash on the floor. She felt something cool sliding over her abused ass cheeks.

This is Capizan. The heat from it will cause your tender skin to burn, but it will not harm you. Whenever you sit, shower, or move for the next few days, the pepper from this will reactivate and you will remember this lesson.

She gasped as the burning soaked into her flesh and cried out, but she did not move. She certainly would remember her lesson.

And be grateful to her Lord.

Melt Down

2010-07-09T11:05:00.000-05:00

So last night I had a total and complete melt-down. The day was really, really good. I took my oldest son and his girlfriend and my younger son's girlfriend (he was working so I just kidnapped the girl) for a fabulous day at the Art Museum, shopping, lunch. I got a ticket for speeding in Richmond Heights which I handled very well - at first. Then, hope to fix dinner for both sons, both girls, a neighbor boy, and hubby. I LOVE having lots of people around my table! But then I started thinking about the ticket and if hubby would be mad and then my knee and foot (which I probably fractured about a year ago but ignored) ached like fucking hell. The my jaw, which had been acting up all day - I have TMJ syndrome - really hurt. So I took a percocet. And then Baby Boy's girlfriend pointed out something about Baby Boy that I already knew but had pushed to the back of my mind. He feels terrible guilt for not visiting my father before he died. We didn't know he was going to die - we were going on a weekend vacation and Baby Boy was excited to get going and so he declined going over to visit Granpa, instead electing just to get on the road and get going. Later than weekend, Granpa collapsed due to a heart episode and died several days later. Now, Baby Boy is afraid to be too excited about anything or to show too much emotion - to feel too deeply.
So, I was in pain, felt like a terrible mother, and was afraid I'd be in big trouble for the speeding ticket (I was only going 11 miles over!)

So I cried. And then I cried more. And then I kept it up - for about 4 fucking hours!!!!
Then, Baby Boy got a bloody nose. Already feeling like a terrible mother, I wanted to check on him, despite hubby telling me he was fine and my usual reaction to blood. I ignored him. I checked on my boy. He was fine. Now that I knew he was fine, the image of the blood soaked into my mind and my nostrils filled with the coppery scent of blood. Yep. I reaced to blood in my usual way. I fainted - right there in the kitchen.

After that, hubby brooked no discussion. I was sent to bed and didn't get out until around 8:30 this morning.

So far, today has been better.

A Submissive's Gratitude

2010-07-04T11:06:00.000-05:00

In Gratitude for
your strong but gently hand
your words of encouragement
your acceptance of who I am
your love for who I am
your believe that I can improve
your guidance
your eyes filled with love and kindness
your stick rules
your inability to allow me to slide
your firm hand on my ass
your gentle lips on my skin
your patience
your training
your stoic resolve to push me to greater heights
your toture of my nipples, my ass, my clit
your possession of my body

your love.

In gratitude of You.

A submissive Nature

2010-07-01T11:45:00.000-05:00

I've argued with many people, some close friends about the nature of submission. Obviously, I do indeed have submissive tendencies, but that does not mean that I am a rug for a Dominant man to walk upon. True submission involves much more than receiving a simple spanking (glorious as that may be!) On the contrary, I feel that my submission gives me strength and confidence. Also, I do not live the "lifestyle" 24/7. I truly don't know how anyone can do that! For heaven's sake, I'm still a person in my own right. I have a full time job, my authority as a mother is well established. I talk back and argue frequently. I am certainly strong minded, strong willed, intelligent to a certain extent and not afraid to state my opinions.

True submission, in my mind, does not entail giving up your own personality, wants, desires, needs. It simply means, for the the most part, placing the needs and desires of your Master before your own. It also means trusting your Master to fulfill your needs. Of course, in order to do that, you must communicate with Him honestly and openly. Perhaps true submission is not simply giving over your body and actions for your Master's pleasure, but giving over your thoughts for his understanding of who you really are. For me, this is the most difficult part of submission, but also the most crucial.