There is a big ol' world out there and I'd love to hear about it

It is very easy to get caught up in your own world. Jobs, family, animals, school, are just a few things that ground us into a lifestyle. As a writer, I escape into the books I create. I imagine myself traveling the world, when in fact, I’m traveling twitter, forums, facebook. I meet people from different cultures, ethnic backgrounds, and countries.

Differences are not so noticeable online. We all deal with real life and bond over shared interests. We learn from one another.

It only took me a couple posts on the blog telling everyone that my new wip deals with dominance and submissives and I had a couple people contact me wanting to thank me. What for? For writing a story about something they loved and with hope that others who read a book will look at them with more understanding.

That’s powerful. That makes me want to do good in the world.

Since, I know it is hard to find emails for writers and most people don’t want to follow the trail of twitter links, join facebook, and go to the trouble of finding a way to contact someone…I am going to post my email here. Drop me an email. I’d love to hear what kind of erotic books you’d like to buy. If you have experience in a lifestyle that you’d love to see more books about, let me know.

MsAbbyWood at gmail dot com   (trying to fool those ol’ spam bots, so change the at to @ and dot to . )

Rape Fantasies

i hear a knock at the door. i look at the clock in the corner of my computer. It’s past midnight. Who would be at my door this late? It must be my crazy neighbor wanting to borrow money again.

i sit my laptop down next to me on the couch and stand up with a groan. my legs are sore from the gym. i stumble over to the door and open it without looking through the peep hole. The damn thing doesn’t work anyway.

The door slams open, and before i can even react, a hand reaches out and grabs me by the throat. i instinctively grab at the hand as it pushes me back into my apartment, spinning me around, and slamming into the coat closet door. My hands are crushed between His hands and the door that i am pressed into. i move them down by my side, and they throb as they hang beside me.

The front door slams shut. i try to scream but my scream is nothing more than a cry due to my air supply being cut off.

A ball of cloth is shoved into my mouth and a long piece of fabric is tied around my face, in between my teeth and behind my head. The grip around my neck loosens just a bit. i suck air in through my nose. my eyes are wide with fear and my heart is pounding so hard i can’t hear much more for the beating of it in my eardrums.

i begin trying to kick backwards and He shoves me harder into the door. my left cheek throbs from the pain of the crash and my left eye starts to water.

He pulls both of my hands behind my back and ties them up with something. i can’t tell if it is rope or strips of fabric, but my hands are soon tied to each other. i cannot move my arms.

Again, i try kicking and He again slams my face into the door. Tears are streaming down my face now, from both eyes, as i realize that i am helpless against His strength.

He wraps a dark cloth around my eyes and ties it in the back. Everything is suddenly dark.

He grabs me by the back of my hair and drags me across my living room and into my bedroom on the left. i try to stand, try find footing with my free feet, but all i manage to do is increase the burning sensation of their bare skin scraping against the carpet.

He reaches my bed and stops. i am terrified, my heart is racing, i am crying, sweating and panting through flared nostrils. i am trying to stand but His grip on my hair is too tight, not allowing me to get up. All at once, He picks me up by my hair and shoves me onto the bed, face down. He grabs my pants and rips them off, exposing my bare ass. i am kicking with all of my might, trying to connect with Him, somewhere, anywhere. He smacks me as hard as He can on the side of my leg, and i cry out from the pain. He smacks me again, this time even harder and i cease my kicking and sob into my bed.

He grabs both of my ankles and ties them together. He then ties my wrists to my ankles. i am now hogtied, helpless, and shaking all over in complete fear.

He grabs my knees and yanks my legs apart, causing me extreme discomfort. He yanks me towards Him by my spread knees. i am now sobbing beneath the blindfold and gag, and i am sucking air in and out of my exposed nostrils so fast that it is making me dizzy. He grabs my ass cheeks and spreads them apart and moans in anticipation. i begin thrashing from side to side, as hard as i can, and He smacks my other leg as hard as He can, then grabs me by the back of the hair and shoves my face into the bed, telling me to shut the fuck up. It is the first time i have heard Him speak. His voice is deep and sinister, and chills run over my entire body upon hearing it.

He resumes His previous act of spreading my ass cheeks, but this time He does not moan. He simply shoves His dick into my pussy, ramming it as hard and deep as He possibly can. i cry out in pain. He grabs another fistful of my hair, shoving my face back down into the bed, yelling at me again to shut the fuck up.

i start thrashing again, trying to get Him out of me. He grabs my hair with one hand and the rope holding my ankles to my wrists with the other and yanks me halfway off of the bed. i now have no footing to move with. He grabs my legs from underneath and yanks me back up to Him. This time He does not enter my pussy, this time He enters my ass, forcing His way in and causing me to scream and sob and shudder beneath the extreme pain shooting throughout my ass and thighs. At this point, i am exhausted, helpless and defeated. i fall limp into the bed as He pounds away at my ass. The pain sears through me with each thrust, but all i can do is whimper and sob into the mattress beneath me.

He fucks me very aggressively, never breaking stride. i am gone now, out of my body and numb. i can barely feel the pain ripping through me. His thrusting slows to a few long determined strokes and then He stops, withdraws from my ass and leaves me hanging limp on the bed. i am back now, feeling the intense pain in my ass and throughout my thighs. my muscles are sore from struggling. my breathing is jagged and my blindfold is soaking wet from the tears.

i barely hear Him get dressed and then the distinct sound of a knife being unsheathed. i begin to scream and thrash, in a desperate, terrified panic. He whisks the blade through the rope and my feet fall to the floor, dragging my limp body with them, and i fall into a lifeless pile on the floor beside my bed. He unties my feet and i hear Him walk out of the room and out the front door, closing it behind Him. i wait a few moments to see if He is coming back, and when He doesn’t, i use my feet to remove the blindfold around my eyes. i then use my feet to remove the gag and begin screaming for help…

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This is Rape Fantasy #1. i have a couple, actually. Master and i have discussed doing a “rape” scene, and He has also requested that i write out my rape fantasy scenarios for Him (and you) to read. It’s amazing how the details don’t seem to matter until you actually have to play it out. When writing scenario #1 above, i had to really think about positioning and timing, things that you would not usually think about when typically fantasizing in your mind. For instance, for Him to be able to grab me by the neck and turn me around to face the door that He slams me into at the very beginning, it would take a lot of strength and His hand must be significantly larger than my neck to accomplish this. Little things like that can make or break a scenario like this. I’m glad i wrote it though, because it really does make me appreciate the effort and thought and detail that He has to put into giving me something like this. *Thank you, Sir, for all of your efforts in making this (and all of my other fantasies) a reality. You are amazing and i appreciate you so much!*

Some other rape fantasies of mine are as follows:

Rape Fantasy #2:

i am waling outside, alone at night. Suddenly a black nylon hood is slipped over my head and a hand covers my nose and mouth over the outside of the hood. The other arm of Him wraps around my chest and picks me up, holding me slightly sideways, so that my feet are no longer touching the ground. my hands are grasping at the hand covering my nose and mouth, and i barely manage to get it to slip down enough to expose my nose. i eagerly suck in the cool air through flared nostrils.

This whole time i am thrashing and kicking as hard as i can, but not making much contact. Right about the time i get some air, He reaches a parked vehicle and climbs in into the open area in the back, dragging me with Him. He lets go of my waist and closes the back of the vehicle, His one hand still covering mouth through the nylon hood over my head. i am kicking my feet and flailing my arms with all of my might, this time making contact a time or two. Once the doors are shut, He jerks me into a kneeling position and wraps His legs around mine so that i cannot move. i feel Him reach for something on the floor, and He slips it underneath the hood. He suddenly shoves a ball into my mouth underneath His hand. i try to spit it out but it is stuck in my jaw. i instinctively reach up to remove the ball and He grabs my wrists with both hands and yanks them behind me, snapping handcuffs onto them. i wiggle my jaw around as hard as i can while he fastens the straps attached to the ball around the back of my head and cinches the hood tightly around my neck.

i feel Him bend down again, then i feel the cold metal of a second pair of handcuffs snap around my ankles. i am now helpless and unable to fight back, save for thrashing my knees around and kicking my joined feet backwards as best i can with what little room i have to move them.

He moves around to the side of me and grabs the back of my hair and shoves me down onto my stomach and exits the vehicle. i hear Him enter the front drivers seat and start the engine. He drives for what seems to be about 10 minutes, as i roll around in the back trying to loosen the hood enough to get it off of my head. But it isn’t working. i decide to lay still, saving my energy for when we get to our destination.

He stops the vehicle and i start thrashing around wildly until i hear Him open the back of the vehicle. i lay perfectly still and wait. He grabs me by my waist, scooping me up and out of the vehicle, holding me at His side like a heavy sack as He slams the vehicle closed.

He carries me at His side into a building. i am kicking my legs as hard as i can, trying to get Him to drop me. i realize that this would accomplish nothing though, as i am bound at my ankles and have no idea where i am and cannot see where to go.

Inside, it smells musty, like an old abandoned warehouse. His footsteps echo as He takes a dozen or so steps into the building. Suddenly, He drops me onto what feels like an old bare mattress. i begin rolling around again, trying desperately to remove the hood from my head.

He laughs, in a scoffing, sinister way as if to mock my efforts at escaping. He suddenly grabs me by my neck with two hands, picks me up and slams me into what feels like a brick wall, holding me just high enough to where my feet do not touch anything below me. He removes one hand, and i begin kicking my locked legs outward.

Suddenly i cease all fighting when the feeling of a cold point of a steel knife presses into my throat. He laughs again, knowing that He has me now. i hang there, helpless and unable to move, for fear that the knife will pierce my throat if i do.

He drops me and again i land on the bare and uncomfortable mattress. The knife is gone, but i don’t dare begin my attempts at escaping again for fear that it will return. i hear metal clanging, it sounds like chains. Suddenly He grabs my hair and sits me up into a kneeling position. i instinctively bow my back, trying to escape His grasp, but suddenly realize that this is not a good idea when the tip of the knife once again finds my throat. He asks me if i am going to be a good girl and i nod in defeat. He runs the chain through my locked arms, and i hear him running it over to what i assume is a wall and snapping it onto another piece of metal.

He returns to me and takes the tip of the knife and firmly scrapes it along my neck, sweeping from the left side to the right side. i gulp in fear as He returns it to the center, pressing it into the underside of my chin through the nylon hood hard enough that i think it might pierce the skin at any moment.

He grabs my hair on the right side with His fist, and slowly lowers me down onto my side on the mattress, never taking the tip of the knife from under my chin. The knife disappears, and everything is still and silent for a few seconds. my eyes dart back and forth underneath the dark hood as i desperately wait for something, a movement, a sound, something.

Suddenly he grabs my ankles and yanks my legs straight. i am now lying on my back with my arms uncomfortably locked underneath me. i squirm against the restraints, trying to find a relief from the pain in my wrists and suddenly the tip of the knife returns to my chin. i cease all movement, except for the heaving of my chest up and down as my breasts point straight to the ceiling, high above the rest of my body.

He then runs the tip of the knife down my throat, over my chest and onto my left nipple, sticking the sharp tip through my thin bra and into the nipple firmly. Even through the bra it stung terribly. i whimpered and began to cry. The pain was sharp and intense and i am terrified that my jagged breathing would cause the knife to puncture through my clothing and into my skin.

He then runs the tip down the remainder of my breast and onto my stomach and across my exposed belly button, as my shirt had risen high on my waist from when He yanked my legs out.

My stomach shakes as He runs the tip around my belly button, scraping it along the skin firmly, silently threatening to puncture my spasming belly. He then lays the heavy knife along my stomach, with the handle in between my ribs and the point at my belly button. The point sticks into my skin due to the angle of my body, being that my torso was higher than my waist because of my arms stuck beneath me, and the weight of the heavy knife slid the sharp tip of it downward into my belly button.

i hear the rustle of Him removing His clothing and begin to whimper, yet suddenly stop because with each movement, the knife pokes deeper into my belly button. i tried to stay calm and be as still as possible. He was silent and everything was still for a few moments, and again i wonder what is happening. The silence is scarier than anything, not knowing what was happening, no clue where He is or what He is doing…

He then removes the knife and i feel the weight of it fall next to me on the mattress. He unbuttons my jeans and rips down, shoving them in between my knees and pushing them down to my ankles as far as He can. He shoves His hand into my pussy and begins rubbing it. i begin to sob again and He suddenly stops and grabbed the knife, running it along my quivering belly and down along my pussy, the tip grazing my skin as He went.

He pulls up my ankles and shoves my knees into my chest. i instinctively begin to twist and thrash, trying to divert His entry into me. His left hand falls next to my right shoulder, and the tip of the knife finds the soft spot underneath my chin again. i immediately stop resisting, and continue crying and whimpering, as He jabs His hard cock around at my pussy until He finally makes His way in.

He begins fucking me, slowly at first, while running the knife along my neck, pushing the tip into my skin as He went. He then suddenly flattens the knife against my neck on the right side, with the edge of the entire length of the blade pushed against my neck, and begins fucking me very hard and fast. He pounds into me as hard as He can, shooting pain throughout my entire groin area as He does. All i can do is sob.

Without breaking stride, He removes the knife from my neck and yanks up my shirt and bra, exposing my bare breasts, sticking up and pointing to the ceiling above us. He jabs the tip of the knife into my nipple and slams His cock into me harder and deeper. i scream futilely into the ball in my mouth, shaking my head back and forth and crying uncontrollably.

He suddenly pulls out and stands, letting my limp legs fall to the mattress beneath me. i hear the clanging of the knife hitting concrete on my left hand side. A hot, thick, gooey substance suddenly splatters all over my chest and stomach, and i recognize it as Him cumming on me. He groans and jerks as He finishes unloading onto my bare torso. i let my head fall to the right side as i silently cry.

He stands up and is silent and still again for a few moments. i hear the distinctive click of a camera and then the rustle of clothing again. The pain in my pelvis was solid, not throbbing or in waves, but a solid, steady pain searing through my groin. my cries have become silent, muffled sobs as the reality of it all sets in.

After He dresses, He yanks my pants back up and zips them but does not button them. He unhooks the chain from the wall and threads it back out from between my arms. He yanks me up onto my feet as my legs buckled underneath me. He grabs me by the waist again and carries me, just as before, back out to the vehicle. As he drives, i lay in the back and wonder if He is done with me or if i will make it out alive…

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Rape Fantasy #3:

i am walking along the edge of the lake, enjoying the beautiful view. i hear a rustle in the forest behind me. i nervously glance around the edge of the trees, looking for any sign of movement. There is none, so i continue my walk. Suddenly the rustle repeats, closer and louder this time. i turn just in time to see a dark figure emerge from the trees. Without thinking, i take off running.

i run around the edge of the lake, letting the moonlight reflecting off of the water light up my path. The rustle behind me is getting closer. i debate what to do – should i continue in plain sight? No. i will have a better chance of getting away through the forest. it is only a mile or so back to the cabin.

i take a sharp right-hand turn and run straight into the trees, twigs snapping underneath my sneakers as i run with all of my might. It is much darker in here, and i can’t see for a few moments while my eyes adjust. Still not able to see very clearly, i continue running with my arms out in front of me to protect me from running into anything.

The unmistakable sound of twigs snapping underneath feet is behind me. He is getting closer. i take a sharp left-hand turn and within a few yards i see a large tree stump. i jump onto the other side of it, push my entire body up against it, shoving as much of me as i can underneath the curve of the log, laying as flatly and silently as i can.

The sound of running and twigs snapping ceases. He is listening. i breathe through my nose, trying not to make any audible sounds. A few more steps closer, a few more twig snaps. He is still listening.

“Come out little girl….” His voice is deep and creepy. “I only want to play with you.”

i squeeze my eyes shut as tears roll down my cheeks. my entire body is quivering, and holding back my whimpers is difficult.

“I won’t hurt you….I promise.”

my eyes fly open. The voice is closer. i hear another rustle a few yards away, in the direction that my feet are pointing. Was somebody else out here? Or was it an animal? Either way, He takes off running in the direction of the noise. i wait until His footprints have faded and slide out from under the log, then run in the opposite direction.

i did not wait long enough. He hears my footsteps and i then hear His heading in the same direction as mine. i can’t see very well, and trip over a large rock sticking up out of the ground. Pulling my face up out of the dirt, i hear Him behind me. He is getting much closer now. i run as fast as i can, and soon i hear running water. It must be a creek. i head towards the sound, and reach the bank of a very small creek. The bank is high, but not quite high enough to hide me. i curl up as small as i can against the bank and listen intently to hear where my predator is.

His heavy footsteps get closer and closer. He stops, just a few feet away from where i am hiding. He laughs. Chills run all over my body.

“You can’t hide out here little girl,” He says, chuckling. “If you give in, this will be a lot easier on you…”

my entire body begins to shake uncontrollably as the tears pour out of my eyes. my foot slips slightly on the wet dirt beneath me. Suddenly the footsteps make it to where i am, directly above my hiding spot.

Suddenly a large hand yanks me up by my hair, dragging me out onto the dry ground above me. i kick and thrash and scream as loudly as i can.

“And just who do you think is going to hear you way out here, little girl?” You ran the complete opposite way that you should have. We’re deep in the woods now. Can’t nobody hear you way out here.”

i don’t believe Him. i am flailing my arms and kicking at His body. He lays directly on top of me with His whole body pressing into mine. i am still trying to kick but my legs are pinned beneath His.

i try slapping Him but He pins my arms down at the elbows on each side of me. i spit at Him and begin to scream, louder this time, crying out for somebody to help me.

“That’s it, scream for me. I want to hear you scream.”

i suddenly stop screaming and glare at Him. His baseball cap is pulled too low, i can’t see His face.

“Fuck you.” i say coldly.

“Hahahaha. EXACTLY.” He answers. His laugh sends chills down my spine as He lets go of my left arm and reaches down to unbutton my pants. i am hitting Him as hard as i can with my free arm, hitting Him everywhere, His head, His arm, His chest, His leg.

“You sure are a fun one!” He says, laughing again. i squint my eyes and the tears pour quickly out of them.

Thoughts run through my brain a million miles an hour. What can i do? Scream? Fight? Beg for mercy?

“Please, Mister. Please spare me…” i try begging. Nothing else has worked.

“Yessss, beg me. Beg me to stop. Let me hear you beg…”

i get angry again. Nothing works with this sick bastard. Everything i do just spurs Him on more. i decide that i won’t give Him what He wants. i lay there, limp and silent. my pants are around my ankles now.

He lifts off of me for a split second and tries to roll me over. i take the opportunity and begin kicking and thrashing again, but my ankles are stuck together by my pants. i try to slide them off but my sneakers are in the way. This gives Him the chance He needs and He flips me over in one fluid motion, shoving my face into the ground on my left cheek. i wince in pain as it smashes into the dirt.

He takes both of my arms and holds them behind me with one hand while He pulls His pants down with the other. He grabs my bare ass with His free hand, shoving His thumb into the entry of my tight asshole. i instinctively clench underneath His touch.

“That’s it, baby, make it tighter for me.”

i relax completely. i am determined not to give Him what He wants.

He spreads my ass cheeks with His free hand and i feel the tip of His cock searching for entry into my ass. i try to squirm underneath Him to make it harder on Him and He lets go of my ass cheeks, wrapping them around the head of His cock. He takes that free hand and slaps my right cheek which is facing up. The sting spreads through my face and my right eye feels like it is going to explode.

He returns His hand to my ass cheeks, again probing the head of His cock around looking for its prize.

Again i start to squirm. i don’t care if He hits me.

He does. Again. The sting is much harder now, and my nose is running. He switches to His right hand to hold my wrists and takes His left hand to grab my hair, shoving my face harder into the dirt beneath me.

“Fine, you want it the hard way, you asked for it, bitch.”

With one hand shoving my face into the dirt and the other holding my wrists behind my back, He begins jabbing around my ass, pulling the skin between my ass cheeks with each attempt. i scream in pain. After several jabs i feel as if my skin is going to rip apart. At this point i almost want Him to find the hole. It has to hurt less.

i stop screaming and start sobbing uncontrollably as i slowly lift my ass up, exposing my hole for Him.

“Now that’s a good girl,” He says. His cock finally finds my hole and He presses into it, and i feel a little “pop” as he enters it.

i see spots, and everything gets really dark. “WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!!!” i am screaming at myself. i can’t pass out. i have to stay alert.

Slowly my vision returns to me as He slams His entire cock deep into my ass. i resume my screaming, slamming my pelvis back down into the dirt. i not longer want to help Him.

He begins pounding on my ass and with every few thrusts, He picks my head up slightly off of the ground and then slams my face back down into the dirt. i can feel scratches and swelling on my left cheek from the ground and the pulsating of my right cheek from His blows.

my screams slowly become more and more muffled, turning into cries mixed with sobbing. He unloads into my ass and withdraws quickly. It feels as if He has ripped my entire intestinal track out. i scream and clench in pain.

He still has my wrists in His right hand, but His left hand has abandoned my head. He switches His hands out, and uses His right hand to push Himself up with, pulling me up with Him. i am kneeling with my back to Him, when suddenly everything goes black.

i wake up sometime later, with no clue how long i was out. i am sprawled on the dirt, face down, with my pants around my ankles. my head is pounding, and feels cold, as if it is wet. i slowly curl up into the fetal position and with some difficulty lift my torso up off the ground. i gently reach up to feel the source of throbbing on my head. It is wet. It is bleeding. Both sides of my face are burning and throbbing, my head is pounding and my ass is shooting sharp waves of pain. i slowly stand up, shaking violently, and pull up my pants and look around. i have no idea where i am. i try to remember the direction that i ran from and head that way, walking slowly, listening intently for any noises. i am sure that my assailant will not be coming back. But i will never walk outside alone at night again…

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So there you go. There are 3 of them. What are yours???

xoxoxo
sunshine

New Crib?

Unique Goddess had opportunity to check out what may become Her next crib.  The space would be perfect for Her and Her adorable lil wonder dog, ozzy.   With a big backyard She can take such delight in playing frisbee with Her pup, among many other games they love to play.  The fringe benefit is the uber sexy boi across the hall.  The Goddess spent an awesome Saturday night with this fine man and is still smiling about it today!

She’s in a great mood too, so what a great way to start off the week.  Smart slutty bois should get in while She’s in this mood, who knows what She may do!  The Goddess has availability on Tuesday & Thursday from 2-8pm and Friday from 3-9pm, so hurry up and setup session as She books up quickly!

Redskins lost again, but that has not spoiled Her mood!  C’mon bois, get it the FUCK TOGETHER! GEEZ!!!!!!

Punishing myself (My past in a nutshell)

How do I introduce myself? How do I explain where this rage comes from? This constant frustration with everything that normal people enjoy?  I lived my whole life in fear.

Fear of God mostly.  My number one fear was that he would punish me.  For what? Masturbating, occasional private cross dressing, putting ice cream on my asshole and letting the dog lick it so I could find out what a rimjob was like, but mostly I think my BDSM fantasies.  At the same time, I was afraid of God NOT punishing me.  I mean, my god, what if I was the only person that could stop me? What if God wouldn’t do a damn thing to stop my downward spiral?  What if I ended up in trailer with 16 kids and a grotesquely fat wife, drinking Miller Lite, and watching NASCAR? Or, dying of AIDS, alone and pathetic, abandoned by my gay buddies?  Or locked up in a rubber room, my memories of orgies slowly fading as tertiary syphilis ate my brain neuron at a time.?

And then when I realized how profoundly stupid and pointless Christianity, nay, religion is.  So I became an Atheist.  And I found in place of this constant fear was this constant rage at everyone else for not having the balls to grow up and stop pretending to believe in Jesus, and fairies, and unicorns.   With reflection, I realized this rage was projection of my own self loathing.

For so many years I believed something I knew, deep down, was total bullshit.  I wanted to put on a pair of assless chaps be spanked with a riding crop by giggling, jiggling fat women.  I wanted to pound a woman in the asshole. I wanted to tie some one up and cum on their face.  I wanted to be the dom half the time, and the sub the other half.  I wanted to have sex with thousands of women, in park shelters, airport bathrooms, and movie theaters.

I knew that about myself, and so horrified was I by my own sex drive and sexuality, that I didn’t even do the fairly normal things I wanted to do, like back pack Europe, go camping alone, or even go to college. Had I done anything of those things I might have been a lone at some point with someone reasonable attractive, trust worthy, disease free, and interested…and  if that happened, I would have gone for it…and if that happened…I would have taken my first step down a road to Hell, paved in condom wrappers and merkins.

So, the rage is at myself.  I turn 30 soon.  To old to fuck 18 year olds.  In fact, to old to fuck anyone much under 22.  Even if it is legal, I don’t feel like it is ethical.  I have responsibilities, I have a family.  I have a fucking Volvo.  I don’t know that anything demonstrates to me my total failure to achieve my dreams as the Volvo parked out front.  It’s like shrine to risk-free white breadism.   There’s a stalker outside.  His name is Time.  He’s got a pot belly, a comb-over, man tits, and sad, flaccid, little penis…all for me.  He may not catch me this year, maybe not next year, but he’ll get me.  He gets us all.

I only get a few more years to pour hot wax on a hogtied, naked,writhing woman and have it be right. After that, I become to others, not so much the guy who loves the BSDM scene as “that-creepy-old-guy-who-just-pretends-to-be-part-of-the-scene-to-get-younger-women”.   YES, I do want younger women, but not because they are younger.  I find beauty in woman young and old, fat, skinny, and muscled like Schwarzenegger. I want young women because I was too afraid to be with them when I was young. My youth is slipping away, my chances to experience my sexuality as a young man and not just a man are slipping away.  I am slipping away.

And so the fear…becomes rage.

Trust and Desire

I sent Andy copies of ”The Past” posts I made here. He’d heard the stories obviously, but he likes my writing. It adds another dimension to it than hearing it does. He asked for everything I’d written in the week and so I sent it to him along with this note…

“I almost didn’t send them. You know the stories in general and it felt almost like I was whining. It isn’t my intent when I tell the story. The last thing I want is for you to feel sorry for me. For me it’s informational, detached inasmuch as it can be. I am strong and it works for me most of the time, but I needed someone… I needed you to come along and know all of me.. There are days when I am floating along through life content in everything and you will text or email me. You’d think that by now I would stop being amazed at how lucky I am to have found you. I’m not really a glass half full or empty gal. More of a hey look, a glass with water, it is what it is kind of gal. Every time we speak, every time we are together I thank the gods for everything that you are. I would be literally lost without you.”

I’m not sure what I expected really, but the response made my toes curl with pleasure. He texted me and told me that I was a strong woman, replete with everything he wanted. He was a little shocked and pleased with my trust in him. He worries about hurting me, pushing me so far that I never come back. I admit there is a possibility here, but I do trust him to bring me back from it. Andy likes physical pain and that I can deal with.

We spent a considerable amount of time together last night. I am sorer, more spent and broken than I have been yet. He made me practice saying the safe words because I have not used it with him, strive not to. He worries that I will let him hurt me and to be honest, I have. I want to endure for him, feel the pain for him because I know he enjoys inflicting it. I trust him not to break me permanently and it scares him that I’d likely let him do it. He has to stay in control or he will hurt me.

He knows about the rape scene and what happened. He didn’t ask for it, but I sent him the posting about it with a little extra bit just for him. “It is unfair of me to tell you the things I am about to, but I need to. I meant what I said. I am wholly and completely yours for as long as you’ll have me. I appreciate you more than words can say.” He doesn’t like reading about my being hurt which confounds me. Doing it yes, knowing someone else is doing it, no.

This was his response…

After the experiences you’ve had, I’m all the more honored that you’ve chosen to trust and desire what we have.  I was very hesitant to harm you after your recent experience.  I know you’re craving the control and demands.  What I hope you take from me is empowerment.  You are an amazing woman, a sexual animal; so completely passionate seething with the need to please and be pleased.  I really hope you feel that way.  Eventually I hope that empowerment moves more into your entire life.

Thank you for sharing yourself.

Leather Lessons

Last night, I had the opportunity to take a leather-working class with Daddy Wendell, the Northwest LeatherSir from 2006 and Seattle Leather Daddy 2003.

He’s spent the past few years deconstructing leather gear and perfecting his technique, and now he teaches classes (and is writing a book) on how to build your own gear with a few simple tools (and no sewing machine – whoo hoo!)

I got to sit up front, which gave me a great view of all the beautiful leather:

And it was everything I could do not to dive headfirst onto this table

and fondle all that

gorgeously cold

hard

shiny

cruel

silver metal:

Daddy Wendell and his boy (the damn fine pair of leather pants in that first picture above) were both wonderfully down-to-earth and a lot of fun to watch.  They demonstrated how to make a bondage belt and a simple cuff (I got to take the cuff home – whoo hoo!)

Here he is cutting out the tip of the belt:

Here he is showing us all how a bondage belt works with another handsome assistant.  Damn, it was tempting to feign ignorance and insist they show us a few more times, just to be sure we got it…

He sent us all home with a bag of leather and metal, so we could give our new-found knowledge a try.

After the class, I scurried home to attempt my homework.

Here is what we were given in the bag:

With a screwdriver and a pair of pliers,

plus a little leather sweet talking,

I assembled the cuffs:

Now, isn’t that a thing of beauty?

(and, yes, there are two D-rings on the back.  I strapped them on my husband and we “tested” them for strength…and they passed with flying colors.)

Daily Batman: The Bat and The Cat, "Shocking!" edition

The Bat and the Cat, they do get up to some games. Who would have predicted that two grown people who wear leather animal costumes and beat people up for a secret living would take things off-Broadway in the bedroom. The heck you say!

This shot is from a collection compiled by Adam West from the scrapbook he kept during the shooting of the 1966 film adapation of Batman. Yes, you read that right: Adam West is a scrapbooker from Way Back. Ain’t no shame in a name, buddy. Own your pleasures!

Catwoman was played in the film by your 1955 Miss America, Lee Meriwether, because Julie Newmar was unavailable due to scheduling conflicts and outside projects, plus she was washing her hair (in other words, she read the script, and, seeing that the opening scenes had an exploding shark, correctly deduced it would fail miserably and distanced herself from the project).

Vera Vision—The Secretary

Being a secretary is more than just answering phones; you’re getting paid to be someone’s bitch. And if Jenna had to fax one more asinine contract, she knew whose ass it was going to get shoved up first.

A secretary and boss relationship is very sadomasochist of its own. Even though the boss is the Dominant one, there is no question on who really rules the roost. The submissive secretary controlled everything and if she was good enough, she also controlled exactly when her boss was able to take a shit. There’s a lot of trust involved but there’s also a lot of discipline. The secretary has to rely on the boss to give her implicit instructions on what was needed. Likewise, the boss should depend on the secretary not to make any crucial mistakes that would cost several dollars and much time to repair. It was a lesson that Jenna knew very early in her job career. Professionalism and discipline were required. But she also knew if she fucked up enough times, the punishment could be sweet.

Jenna didn’t know exactly when the D/s play began; it was a natural occurrence. A raised voice here; a stern look there. A strict warning behind closed doors occasionally. But Max never threatened to fire Jenna; there was no need to. She was one of the best assistants he had ever had and it would be completely foolish of him to fire her. But Max was a smart man. Jenna was a perfectionist and often re-did things before she even presented him her work. When she messed up, it was once in a blue moon. However, Max began to suspect she was starting to fuck up on purpose because she liked the punishment he dished out. Gradually it moved to spanking; first, with a bare hand, but now, with paddles. Jenna was wondering when the whips were going to come out. She knew that was the next level.

Once again it was a late night at the office. Jenna was going over the same spreadsheet for about the 30th time, trying to figure out where the discrepancies were coming from. Budgeting for the fiscal year is never easy, especially if there isn’t much money to begin with. What’s worse was the fact the marketing department was several thousands dollars over where they should’ve been and no one wanted to cut even a dollar from their own budgets for various reasons. It was going to be a long night, indeed. Standing up to stretch, Jenna cracked her neck to relax her muscles. Her salary was quite nice for her job even though Jenna thought she was getting severely underpaid. It did come with a lot of perks that she enjoyed. Of course, none of them were quite as nice as being spanked on occasion.

Jenna grabbed the spreadsheet from her desk and presented it to Max, who greeted her with a smile. She waited patiently as he read the results of her findings. It was any moment he was going to see she miscalculated the budget and made an easily fixable mistake. But she couldn’t let Max know that. She tried to wipe the sly smile that was appearing on her face and continued to wait. She was curious to see what the punishment was this time around. Just when she thought Max had glossed over the budgets, his face appeared from the budget spreadsheet. Annoyance was the look he was wearing and it wasn’t fashionable. Jenna couldn’t tell if that was a look of ‘You’re about to get it!’ or the dreaded ‘You’re about to get fired!’ She hoping it was the former, not the latter.

“Come here and bend over,” he quietly demanded.

Jenna got up from her chair and walked over to Max. She got down on her knees and waited. The waiting part was the worse. She didn’t know if he was going to hit her immediately or wait several minutes. When he did decide to hit her, it always shocked her because she never quite expected it. So, the waiting began. Five minutes. 10 minutes. Fifteen minutes. Jenna began to wonder if Max was going to punish her at all. Her back was starting to hurt and her knees began to feel weak. Maybe fucking up on the spreadsheets wasn’t a smart idea after all.

Just when Jenna was ready to give up, she felt a stinging hit on her ass. She squinted her eyes as the pain reverberated throughout her body. Once the pain subsided, Jenna opened her eyes. Her punishment was over and she could go back to her work night. However, Max had other ideas in mind. He slapped her ass again, this time harder than before. The sudden pain caused a whimper to escape Jenna’s lips. He would slap her ass a few more times, each slap stinging more than the last. Jenna never dared to ask him to stop. It was her punishment and she took it like the good obedient slave she was.

After 10 minutes of slapping, Max ordered Jenna to stand up. Jenna wasn’t sure if she was able to. Her arms were jelly and her knees were incredibly weak. But telling her Master no was not up for discussion. She mustered the strength to stand up. She then turned around and faced him. Her face was blank. She didn’t want to upset her Master any more for the rest of the night by giving off facial expressions that read what she really thought.

“Good work. Correct page 5 and give me the results tomorrow,” he stated. No smile, no wink. It was his MO. If Max let Jenna know he got off on her punishment, their D/s relationship would be irrevocably changed. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

Jenna grabbed the spreadsheet from her Master and bowed slightly to let him know she would do as He pleased. She slowly walked back to her desk. She grabbed a soft pillow she kept under her desk and put it on her seat to cushion the pain her ass was still feeling. She began to work on the spreadsheet once again and focused all of her energy to make sure it was perfect. It was then Jenna felt it was safe to smile.

*Above model is Jessica Drue; photography by Elizabeth Chiyoko*

The Current Players (as of 9-21-09)

It’s been awhile. I have gathered some and cut loose others. I thought it pertinent to update where things stand at this point. I still want for one man, one Dom to control me, protect me from the world, but at this point I am awash in either feast or famine.

“Parisil” (mid 40’s) is an Indian oil man with the will and financial capacity to travel. I know this because he came here to meet me. I agree that my eyes are my best feature and he thrills at them. He took me forcibly from behind, pulling my head around by my hair in order to see them. He can be sweet, gentle but he also comes from a different culture where women are expected to be subservient. He wants to marry me, take me back to India. He lavished me with gifts while he was here, trying to convince me to return with him. If it were just me I would consider it.

“Mathew” (early 40’s) is wonderful and splendid in bed. He is gentle and sweet, willing to take what I can give him. He lives 400 miles away but he is my emotional rock. We speak daily. There is some guilt associated with my relationship with Mathew. He is a good man. I don’t want to hurt him, but I fear that will be the end to this thing we have. He knows only part of my true nature.

“Andrew” (late 30’s) and I are very good together. If he could spend more time with me I think I would have found my Dom. He takes me to subspace whenever we are together and narcissist that he is, he still cares about how I feel. He wants to find my limits, push me over them. We both love the pain and I trust him with my life.

“Richard” (42) and I tend to spend the most time together. He accidentally took me to subspace the last time we were together. He got adventurous and fisted me until I slipped away. The poor man had no idea what to do. He thought I had passed out on the bed and almost called an ambulance. Wouldn’t that have been embarrassing? He understands it now and loves the fact that he did it to me.

I have a few side items here and there, one night stands when my regular men can’t be with me. Sometimes I just need a hard cock. It disappoints me when my regulars can’t, but I know the alternative of going without would be worse. I make bad choices when I am not satiated and dangerous things happen. I am cranky and mean to my family. I’m not the best woman, wife, mother I can be. It bothers me that this is so, but it is what it is.

Le Frai De Demon - Releases 25th September!

As Le Frai De Demon coasts the ocean waves, Vincent and Julian continue their love affair. Upon arriving at Hellion to trade wares, Julian takes Vincent to a special place where the crack of a whip brings them both pleasure. However, their private time is interrupted when a crew member brings news of a rogue trader causing trouble. The men return to the ship intent on leaving Hellion as soon as possible, but a tragedy is in their midst.

Once at sea again, Le Frai De Demon battles through a storm, but will all the crew survive?

Excerpt:

Land came into view shrouded by a heat-fuzzy horizon, its looming shadow a blessed relief for Vincent. Sea life pleased him now, though the promise of standing on dry land pleased him more. At the prow, he stared up at the billowing sails. The wind had picked up earlier, and their arrival at the port would come quicker. His black hair jostled about his face, and a hand came from behind and tucked the strands into the rag strip from which they had come loose.

Vincent smiled. “Everyone is busy, then.”

Julian’s torso pressed against his back, and a light kiss landed on his nape.

“Yes. They are looking forward to unloading and spending time ashore, doing what they do in the twenty-four hours of freedom. First stop usually the whorehouse.”

“What is this place called?”

“I only know it as Hellion, my own term. It is hot, the people look upon on us with curiosity, sometimes suspicion, and the man I trade with drives a hard bargain. He makes me uneasy, rules the town, but trade is trade, and he is the only one I can do business with there. I swap cloth for coffee, and in the next place I swap coffee for coin. We then sail home. It is a shorter trip than my last. I did not think you would enjoy two years at sea for your first time.”

Vincent rested his head on Julian’s shoulder. “What will we do in this Hellion?”

His lover’s low laugh rumbled through him.

“There is a place, one I hope you will like. It is secluded, and we can spend some time there—and there is more on offer than the clothing and food in the market.”

“Interesting. Such as?”

Hands roamed his stomach, and Vincent’s smiled widened.

“You will see. Whether or not you agree to participate is another matter.”

Frowning, Vincent asked, “Does it involve sharing you?”

“It could.”

Fingertips snaked inside Vincent’s breeches.

“But—”

“Wait and see before you decide. It is not what you are imagining.”

[Via http://sarahmasters.wordpress.com]

Faucet

So yeah, I’ve tried to leave it off the blog but it’s just getting too relevant to my story…I have a vanilla SO at home.  I got home so wet and riled up from the little incident with Doug in the car that I couldn’t wait to get some more.  I had this wild thought that maybe now since I’d had my fix of submission I might be able to use some of the tricks I’ve been learning on Neil.  He’s been saying that he wishes I’m more aggressive, I just wasn’t sure I had it in me.

He must have had a nice dream because his cock was just begging for some attention when I came to bed.  I put the tongue ring straight to work, but my soaking wet pussy had other ideas.  Once the floodgates have been opened, I can’t stop them.  I climbed on top of him and lost my mind, squirting over and over again.  He loved the warm feeling of my juices running down his balls as I rode him.  My hand moved to his neck and tugged his hair a bit but couldn’t really read his reaction, though he didn’t stop moaning or seem surprised or upset.

Sitting up straight, I put my hands behind my neck so that when he opened his eyes he saw my breasts bouncing beautifully.  “I think I’m ready to take a more active role,” he said.  I got on all fours and he took me from behind, still stimulating my g-spot so much that I can’t even recall the details, out of my mind with desire, is all I can say.  Sometimes I get bored or tired after a half hour or so but this night I felt like I could go on forever.

He said he didn’t think he was going to be able to come and I begged, “Please don’t stop.”  We flipped to missionary position and I had a really rocking clitoral orgasm.  I asked him if he was losing feeling in his cock which sometimes happens when we have marathon sessions, he admitted that he was.  So I decided to try something different.  He couldn’t feel anything there so I’ll give him something else to feel.  Now he was kind of beside and behind me so I dug my nails into his thigh as hard as I could.  It had to hurt a lot but he didn’t protest.  After a few minutes he said “Don’t stop digging your nails into me,” he said.  So I did that for a little while longer, enjoying another squirt, and trying pulling his hair a bit more.

“Here get on your back again,” I said, climbing on him in reverse.  I was too wet to keep him from sliding out so he started masturbating right over my ass.  It felt so titillating, so objectifying, I almost squirted again without even being touched on my tender bits.  He’s stick it inside me to get some more all natural lube and then keep going.

I wish I could find a way to convince him how beneficial polyamory is for our sex life.  Right now I’m just trying to find him a girlfriend and maybe he’ll start to see the light.  Then again it is probably better that I keep my lovers in secret because I would get much too wild if I had permission.

[Via http://freedbyfetters.wordpress.com]

The Loving Dominant, by John and Libby Warren.

The Loving Dominant, at Amazon.com

Please note: I have not written a book review in several years, and I did not read this book intending to review it.

So, I just finished reading The Loving Dominant, and have gained quite a bit of knowledge from it. Mostly, though, it taught me how little I actually knew about the scene.

The book is written from the standpoint of a Male-dom/fem-sub couple, which is, for me, perfect, as that is my orientation. However, throughout the book, the authors look at the scene as it applies to Fem-dom/male-sub dynamics, but I cannot recall a single mention of gay or lesbian dynamics. I could be wrong – it’s ten minutes to 5 in the morning as I am writing this, and my mind is not operating at 100% right now.

The authors cover quite a bit of territory in this book, making it a sort of BDSM 101 textbook, with chapters on deciding that one is kinky, explanations for kinkiness through the years, finding other people with whom to be kinky, negotiating, scenes, toys, etc. I am quite amazed at the amount of material that the authors were able to cram into such a small book.

I would highly recommend this book to any dominant new to the scene, or interested about the scene. In fact, I would recommend it to a dominant who has been involved in the scene for a while.

As for me, I’m quite eager to try out several of the techniques described in the book, especially a couple of the mindfucks…

[Via http://themonkeygso.wordpress.com]

Kinky Games

Hit me, hit me supplica Dorothy/Isabella Rossellini nel capolavoro avant-garde di David Lynch, “Velluto blu” (1986). Vuole che il suo amante la colpisca con violenza mentre fanno l’amore. Il piacere per lei risiede nello stordimento del dolore fisico. Un’oscura ossessione dalla quale sembra essere irrimediabilmente assuefatta. L’uomo con il quale riesce a realizzare questo crudo bisogno è Frank/Dennis Hopper, un personaggio psicotico e immorale, incarnazione del lupo cattivo delle fiabe. “Velluto blu” con i suoi toni sinistri dipinge un gioco aspro e folle che lascia lo spettatore un po’ turbato.

Spesso il cinema si avvale di un linguaggio simbolico, empatico ed emozionale dove la comunicazione si basa più sull’interpretazione che sulla comprensione. Durante la visione di un film si instaura una linea diretta con il nostro subconscio ed è così che i film, in qualche modo, contribuiscono alla formazione di desideri e aspirazioni personali. Il cinema quindi diventa una lente di ingrandimento dell’immaginario collettivo e per l’erotismo la tendenza generale vede l’uomo nella tradizionale veste di dominatore e la donna in quella di accondiscendente preda. Come nel caso del film “Belle de jour” (1967) del maestro surrealista Luis Buñuel, dove le fantasie masochiste di una rispettabile moglie borghese, la glaciale Severine/Catherine Deneuve, sono raccontate in un’alternanza enigmatica tra sogno e realtà. Un altro film classificato da molti come un estremo esempio di cinema SM è il controverso “Il portiere di notte” (1974) diretto da Liliana Cavani, storia di un amore tra un’ex guardia nazista e un’ex vittima dei campi di concentramento. In realtà, il film è una metafora della condizione umana fatta di fragilità e di ombre, dove la complicità tra carnefice e vittima rivela un erotismo ambiguo, ma in fondo romantico e senza confini.

In tempi più recenti molti registi hanno rivolto il loro sguardo verso scenari BDSM – bondage, discipline, sado-masochism.

La rappresentazione cinematografica di temi legati alla sfera BDSM vede un incremento negli ultimi decenni, anche se bisogna precisare che molte volte si tratta di thriller erotici con un pizzico di kink, che però non mostrano un vero interesse verso la realtà BDSM.

A portare lo spanking nel mainstream è stato “Secretary” (2002) di Steven Shainberg. Il film ha un approccio positivo con l’argomento, eliminando il senso di colpa nel gioco tra sottomesso e dominatore. La pratica BDSM qui non è vista come qualcosa di sbagliato e malato, ma piuttosto come una cura che permette il fiorire di una relazione amorosa e consapevole.

Tutti questi film rinforzano il classico binomio uomo-sopra e donna-sotto. Allora, lasciate che vi presenti un’eccezione: Mistress Kirra. Non è il personaggio di un film, ma una donna in carne ed ossa con un’immensa passione per il cinema e una sana predisposizione per il sadismo.

Mistress Kirra è una professional dominatrix e sofisticata fotografa. Cresciuta a Sidney, ma attualmente risiede a Londra, in passato ha lavorato anche nelle famose chambers di Pandora’s Box a New York, dove Nick Broomfield ha girato il documentario “Fetishes” (1996). Il cinema per lei ha rappresentato e rappresenta una grande fonte di ispirazione.

Che ruolo ha avuto il cinema nella tua formazione personale?

Sono stata educata ad essere una brava ragazza, pudica e servizievole. Mi sembrava che i maschi avessero la vita più facile. Per questo sono sempre stata affascinata dalle femme fatal del cinema: donne senza scrupoli, oscure ed intriganti.

C’era questo fantastico piccolo cinema a Sidney chiamato “The Anchor” che era uno dei pochi posti dove proiettavano x-rated movie tipo soft-porn, horror e altri strani film underground: ho trascorso lì la mia adolescenza ed è là che ho visto “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!” (1967) di Russ Meyer. Ricordo di aver pensato: «Wow… this’s so fucking cool… cold-hard-super-sexy bitches!».

La protagonista Valla/Tura Satana tiene questo tipo tra le tette e lo strangola! È il primo film dove una donna uccide un uomo come dire, a mani nude!

Ci sono stati film in particolare che ti hanno avvicinato al mondo BDSM?

Il film “Maîtresse” (1976) di Barbet Schroeder mi ha affascinato per i costumi e la scenografia. È una ricostruzione piuttosto fedele dell’estetica BDSM. Quando vidi questo film pensai a quanto può essere figo essere pagata per indossare stivali sexy, pelle, latex, guanti, corsetti e maneggiare questi arnesi pericolosi come strumenti di tortura e apparati elettrici. “Inseparabili” (1988) di David Cronemberg è il film che mi ha suggerito il fascino del bondage e dello scenario clinico in generale. C’è una scena di sesso dove la donna è legata con un laccio emostatico e le sue braccia stanno diventando blu…

Sempre riguardo al bondage, anche classici western come “Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo” (1966) di Sergio Leone, in cui gli indiani legano i loro nemici… Certo, senza erotismo, ma ciò che mi colpiva era la situazione di controllo e di potere che si creava.

Qual è il thrill di essere una dominatrix?

Mi piace essere parte dei piccoli segreti delle persone, entrare nelle loro teste e creare questi psycho-drama e dominarli fisicamente, ma soprattutto psicologicamente. Lo trovo molto erotico e mi fa sentire the star of my own movie!

In alcune sessioni ho incorporato certe scene di alcuni film. Ovviamente questi film hanno avuto un impatto su di me e mi piace giocare e drammatizzare. Come da bambini quando giochi e pensi che sei un altro. Durante le sessioni umilianti ho la possibilità di essere una vera stronza. Per esempio la scena di stupro ultra violenta di “Arancia Meccanica” (1971) di Stanley Kubrick: indossando gli anfibi e con la mia bombetta in testa canto I’m singing in the rain… Adoro l’audacia di ridere in faccia a qualcuno e fargli cose orribili con il suo permesso!

In alcune sessioni militari ho usato frasi prese da “Full Metal Jacket” (1987) di Stanley Kubrick, anche se una delle mie citazioni preferite è presa dal film “The Doom Generation” (1995) di Gregg Araki: «You are just a life support system for a cock!».

Ant Bi

[Via http://taxidriversmagazine.wordpress.com]

Fairy Tale Fists

My last visit with Mistress was similarly abridged, unfortunately.  Trying to coordinate our 3 busy schedules is torture in and of itself.  But she and I were able to set aside a few minutes in anticipation of trying out the new tongue stud as well.  For her I broke out one of my new tickler studs.  We threw off our clothes, wanting to waste no time and fell into each others arms.  I tried to be patient, to tease, to run my tongue over her ear, around her nipples and other sensitive places on her body.  But it had been nearly a month since I tasted her sweet nectar and the excitement was way too much for me.

In hindsight I think I might have done better to save the novelty tongue rings for later, because I found it a bit hard to control.  I was so used to feeling my way around to the hot spots but the tickler made it hard to tell what I was doing due to its large size.  But I’m sure she doesn’t mind letting me get in some more practice.  Sometimes it’s hard for me to write in detail about what we do…I get so lost in the ecstasy and in tune with her body that it’s almost like I cease to exist, my mind tunes out and I am simply a vessel for pleasure.

I do remember, however when she flipped me over and started working her finger magic on me.  I was already soaking wet from the stimulation of eating her pussy, so her fingers slid easily inside me and started stroking the magical G-spot.  There are so many erogenous zones for me but the G-spot causes me nearly more pleasure than I can bear.  My head rolls back, my back arches, and sounds come out of me that I barely recognize.  Complete loss of control is the only way I can describe it.  Combine that with the full feeling of her little fist inside of me and I don’t even know my name anymore.

Once she got her fist inside of me she positioned herself over me and started playing at different ways of hurting me.  A little bite there, a little pinch here.  When her hand reached for my neck, I felt myself squirting again.  She played the edge just a little, squeezing more, restricting my breath just barely.  A fleeting thought came through my head that she was going to send me off to work with a hand-shaped bruise on my neck.  But bliss and emotion overcame any reservations I might have about that.  Squirting again and again, I could barely breathe but as I felt her body on top of me, her pleasure rising in her as well I became astounded at the connection I felt, at the amount of love I had for her and she for me.  As I whimpered and struggled for breath, I lived only for her.  And unlike Jason my “casual” friend, we shared out bond both emotionally and physically.  It gave a whole new dimension to the play, a whole new reason to take the pain and give her pleasure.

If I hadn’t had to run off to work I probably would have cried in her arms.  I know I can’t be hers forever, we have places to go and things to do in our lives.  But I want to savor every moment, to feel the love between us grow, to watch her blossom into an exquisite Domme right before my very eyes.

Of course both Master and Mistress have left me with a terrible hankering for a spankering.  It pains me to think that I don’t know the next time my ass might be properly sore.

[Via http://freedbyfetters.wordpress.com]

Our Friends over at Simply Tied:

I had the honour of corresponding with the folks over at Simply Tied, and there work and photography is outstanding. They are great Riggers, and there Damsels are lovely and there pictures tell a story of Erotic with sensual desires. If you haven’t seen there work I encourage you to visit their website, great work and perhaps in the not so distant future BoundNSexy and Simple Tied will collaborate on a Damsel In Distress Film. Stay Tuned.

[Via http://bnsproductions.wordpress.com]

Hello, world!

So, for my first post, I thought I would tell you a little something about myself.

I am a 27-year-old, male, straight dominant in the Triad area of North Carolina.

I’ve been involved in the BDSM lifestyle for about a year and a half, though I dabbled in it a bit, about 6 years ago.

I’m involved in the local community, so if you’re local, perhaps you’ll see me out and about somewhere.

[Via http://themonkeygso.wordpress.com]

The Furies and the Furious

Some people are stuck on stupid, I am stuck on integrity. Now I have struggled to express this without becoming too personal. Without turning to some and saying, “this, this is exactly why integrity is important”. I have tried to explain it using the words of dominant men of all stripes, wikipedia and my heart. But today, ahhhh, today.

I am in an uncompromising mood,,,enough is enough.

This post was supposed to be light and trite. About something sexual and insipid after a heavy week of introspection and a substantial increase in my workload. I am tired, the insomnia is relentless and I am in pain. I look across the tundra and see garishly painted clowns  leading the mentally weak off cliffs to their demise and I try to look the other way. Then more and more around me I see bright lights withdraw to the cocoons of their shelters. In my Christian world we would call this retreating to their spiritual covering. I don’t know what it is in this world but I see it. And I feel fury stirring, peering over my shoulder,,,

In my life, me and my friends we have an agreement. It reflects our moral foundation. God allows people to choose whether to sin or not. His truths are unchanging and unfailing, but choice lies with man. So, we watch each other, we answer questions when called upon, but we do not randomly intrude. I have pretty much taken that approach here in this world. Hands off, to the degree that I do not read blogs where the leader, generally the husband does not exhibit integrity, a moral compass and deep respect for his spouse. Additionally, I read and re-read to determine; if in any of his postings or the postings of his spouse, if the protective nature of man displayed. Finally, I look for redemption. Until you mess up and I mean really mess up, you have no understanding of the restorative power of love and faith. If you do not know and understand this, you cannot lead. You will not have the capacity for compassion and maturity required. Extending mercy will be a foreign concept. Until you are freed from a slavery of your own you cannot Master well.

This post was actually going to be about fear had it not been about something insipid and sexual. But today, I am breaking my rule and dipping into my friends business. Actually that is a euphemism, they aren’t my friends. I don’t read their blogs, but I know of them because from time to time I get links and I take a peek despite my better sense. This raging debate on honesty has been propagated by the call from some that dishonesty is a-ok. It is part of the submission they give their Master’s.

It has been noted in many places that a disproportionate number of submissives women have a history of abuse. I believe that to be the case based on my readings. I am not going to take the politically or kinkily correct route and say well whatever floats your boat – I say BULLSHIT. Having experienced abuse should not doom you to that path for life. You should be encouraged and helped out of that abyss.

When you’ve been in an abusive relationship a couple of things seem to happen. Firstly, you come to a fork in the road and must decide is it possible that things can be better or accept that all of the terrible things that have happened to you are your fault and continue down that road. Repeating those patterns again and again. You fall into the trap of trying to behave better and be better, i.e. indulging in more and more emotionally destructive self-debasing behavior in an effort to earn someones trust and love.

To earn real protection. Women in and out of this life make deals with the devil. It is akin to the bargaining behavior seen when people work through the stages of grief. They believe there is a place where their dominant partner will finally be satisfied and love them back. It doesn’t happen that way. What happens is you end up in ever more bizarre and demoralizing behavior until there is nothing left and you are released. Oh, I don’t understand YOUR dom? Yes, I do.

Of the two people I am speaking of in particular, one has been on this long roller coaster ride where she has repeatedly expressed how she makes no decisions and is at the mercy of her dom who will take another if and when he chooses. Recently he apparently assured her that he has no plans to do this and she is as happy as you can be while sleeping with and serving another woman’s husband. This, of course is a man with a track record of destructive relationships. That is how she showed up. Oh Yes, of course his word is his bond. Stay tuned for next weeks episode of as the fool turns.

The other, is young, vibrant, funny. I cannot read her blog regularly because of the unspoken rule about playing nice in the blog pool. She writes of the man she loves and serves, trying so hard to please. But as she writes I see cruelty behind what I am sure is a handsome facade. I am chilled, knowing this will end badly. Now, in an effort to please him she has even arrived at a place where she is giving up self-censure and accepts whatever he decides to provide as truth; whole or in part.

My heart hurts for one and not the other. I have no pity for the former because I find her behavior indefensible, she is a drum major for the immoral. I would have compassion but I deal from the same deck a person plays. The coming storm is earned. The latter has caused my heart to break and I am screaming at the gods because I fear. I fear for her heart and her buoyant personality. I have seen these type of men before and know them well. I want to snatch her behind me and whip his ass but I cannot.

So I write and write and write and raise examples and give pointers and discuss morals and core values while raging against those who would dance around her, encouraging her down this path and I am furious.

I know there are good men who call themselves Master, who say they own their women, who demand unfailing obedience. I know this. But there is a difference between a Master who comes into his relationship from a place of integrity and commitment and one who confuses dominance with destruction. There are dominants who are watch dogs; guarding all that is under their domain and there are dominants who are alley cats toying with the mice they call slaves.

A favorite line in a movie I love is spoken by a woman to her abused daughter, “I have been in Harlem all my life. I do know a rat when I see one”.

Over the last two years I have struggled at the junction of abuse, do I dig myself out or do I continue down the road of the damned? I have been surrounded by women, r/l and here on-line who continuously turned my face towards the light and for them I am eternally grateful. I truly know my value as a woman, submissive, professional, educated and proud.

Now healed wounds are often where the toughest skin is found and those who have lived through something are often those most committed to never going there again. They have earned their stripes.

My dear Mouse,,,reading her bolg I’ve discovered she and I have a lot in common. Apparently the self-promoters and the evil have been hunting around her doors. She too arrived at the crossroads and decided to take the high road. She wrote about decision making and self-protecting only to be criticized by the evil haunting this life. The insipid and tortured want everyone to live the same shallow, dangerous lives they choose. They couch it in terms that indict submissive woman. You are not trusting, you are not obedient, you are a disappointment.

Carrie Ann at a view from the floor once complained to her Master about these poisonous sows. His response, “Are you happy? Which she affirmed. His retort, “Fuck ‘em”. I say Amen my brother.

Yes, my mouth runs with venom tonight. It seeps off my teeth and I roam this space with barely contained rage. I would say there is a special place in hell for these simplistic ignoramuses. However, being acquainted with the reality of life, the great leveler will deal with them in due time.

But Mouse, tries to caution submissives to the danger all around us. She is better than me. Reopening those wounds time and again.

There are those who would hurt you, crush you, killing your spirit. Leaving you broken to be swept into the gutter. True death stalks this lifestyle.

For this kindness, for raising a candle for those possibly captive in the grip of evil she is repaid with ignorance and cruelty. I for one am tired of the vapid and vacant; living under the control of the deranged, deciding what makes the measure of a Dom. Damned tired.

Now Mouse has found a Dominant of worth. Omega has built barriers and fences around Mouse to protect her from a lot of the crazies in this world. He cushions her awhile helping her fight her way back from the furies of her past. Unfortunately, the furies of abuse don’t allow you the break away cleanly. She mentioned self-protecting from him which triggered the randomly foolish to darken her door.

I counter that Mouse is reflexively shielding herself from her past experiences of the furies. I too self-protect from my own furies. I long had a rule, the best way to get over one man was to get under another one. I have an encyclopedic knowledge of rats do to that rule. My self-protection now has a trigger and is honed to reflex. One false note from a man now and my walls fly up; closing my heart before he draws his next breath.

This is not her exact situation, she is married and I am single. But that does not negate the impact of the furies.

As it happens Omega co-administers her blog. Her fear of him acting in a self-serving way is rooted in being mistreated in the past. It is a long road back from hell, even when someone is holding your hand. Moreover, the intrusiveness of having a co-administrator is frightening. Tangible evidence that she has ceded control to another. The furies translate this as being exposed to victimization – yet again.

I contend that Omega is not co-opting her sanctuary but is instead  walking around it, testing the walls and the windows, chasing away the darkness and things that go bump in the night. She may not realize that many, many submissive writers in the blogosphere have this exact same arrangement because it is not discussed.

It is job of the Dominant to secure and protect – even as we kick and scream, fighting against what is good for us. They know danger is always creeping around to damage that which is precious, you. They know you are open because they have opened you and are therefore charged with keeping you safe. The furies seem to choking her with fear. It hurts, power exchange is an evolution and takes time.

Me? I normally show my posts to friends or family before I release them to ensure my embedded evil is appropriately restrained. There have been many posts that have not seen the light of day because of the wisdom of friends. Too bad I am typing this at 3am I guess.

So, I offer a word of hope to the damaged, a word of recognition for the Dominants of integrity and a word of support to those who feel alone and exposed,,,

In the past, when the Israelites were enslaved in Egypt. Their Masters were cruel and conditions harsh. The Lord sent Moses and ultimately he secured their freedom. We all have our Egypts. The dark places we have fled from, filled with cruel, undeserving masters. This verse is for my sister Mouse and everyone else who has survived a cruel master. As the Israelites fled, their furies chased them, Egyptians threatening to drag them back to captivity,

“But Moses said to the people, “Do not fear! Stand by and see the salvation of the Lord which he will accomplish for you today; for the Egyptians whom you have seen today, you will never see them again forever.” Ex 14:13 NAS

Do Not ear, you will never see them again. Never see them again. Never. Forever. The furies don’t win, you do. Never, ever, ever. The end.

Hang in there, you’ve already won.

And finally the sniping has reached a fevered pitch. Again. A dear friend of mine was attacked by the emperor who has no clothes. His minion, imps, acolytes and fools now run to his aid. But I say again, the emperor has no clothes. And no legs to stand on either.

Unlike many of you I am not fearful. I am an entrepreneur who shares her choices with family and friends, I fear no man. The pied piper on the other hand has reason to fear, his hands are not clean. Call the FBI? HA!!! Please do, and be exposed to all. Forced to admit your culpability. I did not compose the email that shook your composure but you know — the scale of justice weighs heavy against you.

Would you now deign to threaten me? Think again. The Doms who surround us consider you little more than a simpering woman, refusing to entertain your silliness. One bark and you scurry back to your cave. Licking wounds from the evil monogamists. I have no Dom. I happily settle my own scores. You claim to expose frauds and liars,,,LOLOL,,,yet your hands are so very dirty. Attacking the credible with the incredible to entertain the gullible, how sad. The Doms may choose not deal with you but from a Bitch to a Bitch. Stop.

This song is for all the girls reclaiming themselves and for those who did not know they could. CD

[Via http://cultivateddiscipline.wordpress.com]

Internet is for pr0n

In times when I got lots and lots of things I want to write, it is easy that it takes too much time before getting an actual post out there. So here is one more of those ‘look at this! ‘.

I had one of those weird sleepless nights some days ago and ended up clicking away on youtube.

This was one of my favourite, who said BDSMers did have a sense of humour?!

Then, Torture Garden reminded me of what I like with the club in the first place. Through Torture Garden TV I was watching performances and interviews. Of course there was the stereotypical bull every here and there, but it was a couple of interviews I found really interesting and refreshing.

First of all, Buck Angel. Oh, how much adore that man with a pussy. This is a very basic interview but in the same time it is still oh so clear what he is talking about. A man I truly admire on so many levels.

Secondly, Kumi’s interview as well as show with Midori are clips that show something that is completely different from many other shows out there. Kumi states that she is looking for something new, something that gear away from the usual shows, that she is not very interested in the usual images of BDSM and wants to create art. It is important to remember these artists, because without them, the kink-scene would die. And boredom would rule.

A bit more with Kumi can be seen in this video, which is truly a work of art with  behind the scenes photos from a session in collaboration with Gilles Berquet and Mirka Lugosi.

There you go. Hope you have patience enough to wait for those texts that I’m working on!

More with Kumi can be found here

[Via http://moreinches.wordpress.com]

Julie Simone, Slain Wayne, and Severe Society Films Premier Videos at Club Fetish Nation

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The Collar

The Collar is like a wedding ring, in the bdsm style. It is a leather or metal ban wrapped around the neck. As the world changes the collar does to. It just doesn’t have to be a ban. It can be a necklace, a ring, or even a piercing. The important thing is it shows a commitment between a dominate and their submissive/slave. It is something that shouldn’t be taken lightly. It shows other lifestyles that you are owned and not to be messed with.

[Via http://asubmissivesview.wordpress.com]

If I Can't Have you..

I struggle with this

your reaction:   denial?  embarrassment? excitement?  Fear….that’s the one!!

How dare I take control of that which is offered?  Should I not be concerned…shouldn’t I let you loose when you fane discomfort?  Or ignore, and carry on down My dark path of fantasy?  Oh…I get hard with the thought of you in peril….but reality truly bites deep

and I check your blood flow…you ok?

don’t hide from Me…I need you to need

So go ahead..look awayLink to this awsome artist is here:  http://mjranum.deviantart.com/art/Bondage-Photography-How-To-84152319

[Via http://siranneal.wordpress.com]

Doc & I Finally Meet (part 3)

Doc is the first man I had ever been with that wasn’t circumcised. It was a new experience as I slipped my mouth over the head of him. He was smooth and oh so wonderfully hard. I ran my tongue around the tip, tasting him. He let me experiment on my own for a few minutes, stroking and sucking him deep into my mouth. My right hand played along his balls.

His hand had been resting on my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. He balled his hand into a fist, sharply pulling my hair. I moaned around him as he pushed my face against him, gagging me. He pulled me back, letting me breath for a moment. As he pushed me back down over his hard cock, he spanked me hard on the ass. I sighed my contentment. Doc moaned as I pushed him deeper into my mouth, choking against him but wanting more.

I wasn’t sure how Doc had gotten it, but I felt the water bottle I had been drinking from push against my pussy. I was so lost in the sensation of my mouth around his cock that I didn’t register it at first. I paused as he ran his fingers around my pussy lips, opening me. He pushed my head down hard and slammed the bottle home. I would have screamed if I could have. The bottle stretched me tight and I tingled with the pleasure of it. I felt like a virgin again, being opened for the first time.

Doc and I joined a rhythm. He pushed the bottle deeper and I sucked harder against his cock. I heard him moan with pleasure and I knew he was close. Silent tears streamed down my face at the exquisite pain he was causing. His fist tightened in my hair and I floated on the feeling as he came deep in my throat. He backed off just enough and I swallowed him whole.

I think Doc would have been content to be done at that point. I was slick with cum and so pleasantly sore to his touch. He made the mistake of stroking my breasts, pinching my nipples lightly in his post coital bliss. It revved my engine again and I wanted more. I moved, presenting my pussy to him. He raised his eyebrow curious that I could take more, wanted more.

He was not gentle, pushing deep and hard. I came instantly but he was determined to make me pay for my insistence. I cried his name, begged for more. He gave it to me, bringing me over and over in wave after wave of pleasure. I wish I could be more specific, but all I remember is the floating feeling, the sensations of pain and pleasure pushing me over the edge.

I rested for a moment while Doc redressed himself. I knew it was long past time to be home, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave him just yet. He told me it was time to go, even put his seatbelt back on for the drive. I laid my head across his lap, kissing him softly through his jeans. I watched him grow hard again and smiled against him. I had literally hit the jackpot. Not only was he wonderfully large in the cock department, but he was able to cum and be hard again for me. I couldn’t help myself. I pulled him free once more and slid my mouth around the tip of him.

I knew I was being a brat, pushing the control issue because I wanted Doc to punish me. We both knew it, but he let it happen anyway. I ran my tongue between the fold of skin and the tip of him. He shuddered and I sucked deeply. I wanted to taste him again, feel him pulsing in my mouth. Doc let me have free reign and I used it wringing every moan that I could from him. He came again, just as hard as the first time. It was wonderful and I drank him down again.

[Via http://bbwneedsitnow.wordpress.com]

Hot Holiday Phonesex

Hot horny Labor Day fun with Naughty Nikki!!! Are you looking for some holiday fun this Labor Day? Well Naughty Nikki will be here to explore all of your fantasies, cum share all of your deep dark secrets with me. Let’s share stories and have some fun this Labor Day. No matter what your fetish we can exlpore it. Are you a sissy boy looking for your pimp? Do you like daddy’s little girl? Are barely legal fantasies your thing? Do you need an accomplice to help you fulfill your fantasies? Give me a call and let’s chat………………..

Nikki

1-877-770-7021

www.accomplicenikki.com

Aim or Yahoo: AccompliceNikki

[Via http://accomplicenikki.wordpress.com]

Glamorous Cleavage Olga Kurylenko’s

Here’s Bond babe Olga Kurylenko dropping some cleavage and looking like a doll in the Russian edition

SOURCE

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