Bight Me

Rope + Girl + Me + Friends + Fudge = Fabulous

A not-so-HD camera phone shot of us playing (I dyed my hair!)

For those of you who didn't know, I am quite the fan of rope. Having grown up on boats on the Pacific coast of our wonderful country I have felt comfortable around the heft, weight, and tension of ropes from a very young age. When I become more interested in rope in the beginning of last year I began playing with it and found myself quickly drawn into it. Now I have over 500 feet of assorted ropes like natural hemp, sisal, and nylon. 

This night was amazing, we got to learn (and teach) some new techniques in a comfortable, close group of friends but even better than that, I tied my girl up and messed with her. I used a chest harness and attached her ankles which had been tied in a two-column tie and left the free of her ankle tie free so that I could reel her in an out, adding and subtracting the pressure on her bonds and her body while the ball of my foot rubbed her clit from the outside of her pants....yes, it was fun.

Oh, and we had peanut butter fudge made by a friend of mine which may seem like a small detail but it was so delish! Candy + Rope = Love.

Blood, Gore, & Tits

So October is the month that we're all allowed to be a little more creepy, dark, and evil because lovely Halloween is the finishing move of the month. My girl Kangaroo and I really went wild with some blood (real or fake, you decide) in white lingerie and not only did the shots look fabulous but the shoot made my kitten so very wet.

Happy Halloween!

Sweet Cupcakes

So you know how I'm totally obsessed with cupcakes? How about 9 girls in sexy lingerie kneeling and smooshing, rubbing, and throwing cupcakes on and at each other? Does it make it it even better to know that they also rip each other's bras and panties off and then slip around in the icing and cake all over themselves, falling into a huge heap?

I'm not even kidding and it makes me so giddy it almost hurts....this is my REAL life! Yay! <3

Did I also mention that this is for a juvenile AIDS charity? Yes, naked, icing covered girls playing outside for charity. Anything is possible in life when you have an imagination like mine.

La petite and some double (and triple!) doses of sugary love!

Boy Beater

My life in the BDSM lifestyle has really come full circle in the past seven years. I started out as a timid model and submissive and have now found my stronger persona within the darker circles of sexuality.

I identify as a Dominant who will occasionally bottom privately, I no longer serve anyone but there is still a lingering soft spot for the sensations and mindsets of one being beneath another. I don't live for that sense of loss of self but it is still there behind most everything else and occasionally peeps its little head out.

Vintage image via queerpopculture.com 

I think this realization came so late because I just let myself fall into a role someone decided for me; the role of being the one who serves. As a woman, it is the more prescribed of any of the roles in life and it did feel natural for a very long while. There came a day when I felt less like only pleasing someone else and more like I had accumulated enough knowledge and strength to possess someone myself and have them feel all that I had before.

I had never gotten as worked up over Fem Dom porn as I did this past Fall and circulating more and more among those who not only encouraged my learning and self discovery but also saw something more in me than a girl who just lets things be done to her.

In life I am a leader, I get things done and I make my voice heard. I take initiative and am never too shy to talk to anyone. I feel that my sexual prowess and energy make others feel that I am an intimidating young woman and on some level I've always felt it deep down. Nearly my entire sexual journey has been about manipulating men (not all manipulation is bad!) and seeing how far I could push myself and others.

I thought that these characteristics just made for an interesting side-note on resume of a submissive women when they were more like the telling points of my actual place in life and in the BDSM world at large.

I'm a caring, genuine person and when you are my friend I will do anything to help you out so when people find out certain things about me, such as the fact that I like to embed needles into people's skin and then lace them together like a corset it boggles most people's minds. The embodiment of the female energy is that of duality and I definitely have it in spades. I'm light and dark, sweet and spicy, and sweet and evil, all at the same time.

Isn't life wonderful?

That being said, my new boy Scene is such an amazing gift in my life. I love him and worship him while all at once I feel a very powerful drive to Dominate him, hurt him, and bring his mind to amazing new places.

We had a scene this week where he was in sub-space long before I ever started applying any pain of any kind. He amazes me and while he's still very green to the lifestyle of kink, his desire to be mine completely drives me wild and endears him to me like no one before him.

When I began to find my place in the lifestyle at 15, I had this very well defined distaste for submissive men, thinking that since they couldn't fulfill what I believed to be their "proper" gender roles that they were less than worthy of respect. I have found in the past few years that this is absolutely not true. In many ways a submissive man has a lot more pain and trials to work through before he can finally find himself in the lifestyle. To go against all of the constraints of your upbringing, sex, and societal pressure is a truly incredible feat of daring and determination to be sure.

The man who finds himself softened and willed to bend to the desires of his woman is truly an amazing man indeed. The pleasure and satisfaction that can be found is such submission is the most tantalizing of all and I feel blessed to have his heart and mind in the palm of my hand.

Method: Episode Two

 Continued from here.
--------------------------------

I disappeared from his life and into the arms of another man; if you didn't already know, men generally don't like that.

After almost a year from the last time I had seen him and let himself have his way with me I agreed to meet him for dinner. In the middle of the dining room, he took my face in his hands, held me tight and close to his own face as he spoke me, the tears almost welling up in my eyes from fear,

"What you did made me very angry, very pissed off. I wanted you and you just went off to someone else, someone we know now would hurt you and cause you pain. Yes, I was very upset at you little girl."

When I looked him in the eyes after dinner when he realized I wasn't going back to his bed with him, his face fell and a dazed expression crossed it. As I walked away in my platform heels across the asphalt, I could feel his angry eyes boring into my flesh trying to will me to trot back toward him and confess my mirrored desire for his body and my need to surrender to him.

It wasn't a power game, I had just decided before ever stepping out my front door that I would keep my clothes on and my legs closed...for the time being. There had been so much electricity when we had coupled before and I wasn't prepared mentally or physically for the crash of it all again.

-----------------------------
Episode Two/Day One:

I felt ripples go through my body months later as I walked down that same hallway that haunted my fantasies from so long ago. The long drive over had prepared me, but when I took off my dress to change in front of him before leaving to go out for a drink and a bite, standing only in a black lace thong I could only try to prepare myself for what was to come. He stood behind me, his strong hands on my shoulders, massaging deep. I could feel his presence behind me, his heat and I was thrilled with the fear of it.

After dinner, I laid my head on his chest on the couch while we talked but soon enough his hands were on me and then his lips to. They traced pathways along my face, my lips, my neck, me breasts, my nipples and I was slipping away. He knelt to the floor and pushing up my chiffon dress, began to lick at my amazingly slick kitten, his tongue on my clit making my back arch and soft sounds to emanate from my throat.

He knelt up, abandoning my kitten for the time being. He kissed me with an aching passion, his lips harsh, trying to pull the desire from my very core. His hand came to rest lightly on my throat until he added pressure, making darkness cover my consciousness. When I came to, the world was hazy, my breath coming like no pleasure I've had before, my hands tingling, my chest heaving and my head rolling from side to side, my mouth open taking air like a deprived being.

My whole body was alight with sensation as if none had come before. The fear of it making my heart pulse as if it had never before lived deep within my chest, beating its constant rhythm. I moaned form the wonder of it all.

He took me down again into the dark, his fingertips on my clit. When I came back to the light, the blood rushing back to my brain like a gift from above, I shuddered whole-body from way down deep. My whole body ached and that pain brought forth such a force of desire that I felt helpless before it.

In that moment, I was all sex and sensation.

He pulled me up, I stripped and after applying wrist cuffs and mounting them in the door frame, I stood naked in my seven inch heels my ass out and my frame shaking with sexual tension as I stood before him restrained and at his will. The strap of the bit in my mouth circled my head as I bit down to try to relieve this tortured need within me. Moments later his cat-o-nine flushed my ass and my back as he rained it down bringing moans and inner quakes of passion. His voice was thick with need,

"Look at that gorgeous body and those sexy heels.You are so hot baby."

I moaned behind the bit and laid my forehead against the door with frustration.

In the bed I laid out, legs apart as per his wishes,

"When you're with me you keep your legs spread as far apart as you can at all times."

I shook with apprehension, imagining my sensitive little cleft being exposed to whatever his devious mind could think up.

His mouth lit upon my kitten once more, this time in long, heated strokes that tried to cull the passion from my center. He spoke between licks,

"Now remember my one rule baby girl, you ask to come and then you thank your Sir when he gives you a nice little orgasm."

My brain flip-flopped.

Damn it!

The one thing that crashes my orgasm train is having to ask permission, the expectations so high and not being able to just let things happen. Even with that floating over me I let myself relax and just let it go, I would enjoy myself and let him enjoy me as much as possible regardless.

I kept lurching so near the edge as his tongue, his fingers worked against me, throwing pleasure through my entire frame and yet that small bit of knowledge, even once he recanted on it, held me back like an invisible veil separating me from that final ecstasy. Somehow the tension within me even enhanced everything and refocused it on his body, his pleasure.

Many more times he took me down to the darkness, once more so deeply that I had to pull myself back to the living by listening to his voice coaching me,

"Breathe little girl, breathe."

I had to force my mind to remember do to and once I did everything around me popped into being as if it wasn't there before it was all taken away from me. My body shook against my will and I uttered sounds I hadn't allowed to come out. My body was possessed with its own business of living and my blissed out mind was nowhere to be found.

Again he took me and shattered me to the core, his body pressed tight to mine. I swooned, I sighed and moaned. It was like before but not and in so many ways those two colliding facts only enhanced things.

Later as I slept with my hands cuffed and tied with the same dark, silken rope I slept again but awoke periodically as if my body was shocked to feel his body curled around my own. I slept and dreamed and it was all darkness.

Episode Two/Day Two:

The morning was bright and the room was white all around me. I felt the morning when it came creeping but didn't stir from half-sleep until his hands overtook my body and willed it to wake, to obey his desires for it and will it to be his.

He was all over me, inside of me and wrapped around me. When he wasn't using my body, he stroked it, and spoke to me, asking me as many questions as he answered. He traced all of my curves hundreds of times, finding all over my valleys and furrows,

"I can't keep my hands off of you."

As he took me from behind during our third or fourth session of the morning, he spanked the side of my ass with such force that it willed me into my submissive head-space, my mouth overtook my restraint and I cried out,

"Thank you Daddy!"

He murmured his delight at my response and followed that spank with more than a dozen others, each time warranting my thanks. I nearly sobbed as he took me deep and hard, my hands grasping the sheets to keep my hold on my own inner balance.

After he had had me again until he was satiated, and I could sense the pillow time was over. He stood and the moment was over, it was if he had realized he had let me get to him but now it was time to take back over and live as he always did and comport himself with his usual dignity.

Later after lunch and walking by his side, the wind whipping my skirt about me, I felt that things could either dissappear again or they could hold to me, become a part of me and I felt unresolved.

Before I left him, I knelt at his feet like he always liked though I hadn't felt the desire to do so since the year before. He smiled and said,

"It's not that hard is it?"

Deep inside the answer was "yes" but I just smiled and nuzzled my face against him trying to push away the painful thoughts of what it would mean to truly give myself over to someone again.

The theme of our passion remained within my own mind that of keeping my soft, delicate inner core to myself while letting him have his way with all the other parts of me. When I was alone at home once again and without his arms and his hands and his lips and his voice I was glad that I had kept at least that tiny part to myself.

I was glad I still had me at the end of giving myself away...but I still had the delightful ache to remind me of that solely physical submission and that was delicious.

Method: Episode One

Episode One/Day One:

After barely half an hour in this man's presence, something echoing and willful within me lead me to his sanctuary and within mere moments, I was standing before him in only my pink panties.

My body tenses and my breathing is hurried and stressed, his voice is calming but still the fear compounds when I pull at my securely anchored ankle restraints and increases further when I pull at my wrists that are cuffed in leather and buckles and tied to the back of the chair. When the blindfold goes on I whimper and his hands on my face gently soothe me.

My mind is racing, screaming,

"Why would you go with this man and let him get you mostly naked and tie you to a chair and blindfold you!?!?"

My mind is mostly conventional but I didn't let the majority rule.

I whimper softly as he tells me the rules of the game,

"Im going to expose you to ten different things and you have to tell me what they are. I'll touch them to you and let you smell and taste them and then you have only moments to tell me what they are."

He also gave me an amount I wasn't supposed to guess wrong, if I failed I would get something bad and if I won I would get something good.

Simple enough, right?

There was some sort of outdated yet calming music on somewhere as he approached me, his movements intentionally too quiet and concealing as to not give his position away. As we went through the items, some which turned out to be a mousetrap with its rough wooden corners stroked against my arm (which was one of two that I missed), some sort of lotion that had a very striking odor (which I got correctly after it was applied to my nose) and a chocolate chip cookie I began to gain confidence but when I would miss one, my heart sank; I worried what failure would lead to.

After a long while of playing the sensory game, it was decided that I had won and my reward was given to me in a very sultry fashion.

His hand was quick and lithe as it snaked its way down into my panties, the only bit of clothing that remained on my restrained body. Soon enough, my back was arching, my breathing was ragged and in mere moments I was having an orgasm that rocked me so hard that my body pulled against the ropes that firmly held me to the chair to which I was tied.

With hardly a moment to think, collect myself or to allow the vibrations of my ecstasy to cease to reverberate through my whole body, he unties me and pulls me into the bedroom where with barely an indication I fall upon his cock and luxuriate in administering pleasure with my mouth.

After a short bout of my ministrations, his hard cock succumbs and once he lets loose his final pleasure, I lay still with my naked, exhausted body across his legs, the head of his cock in my mouth. Even more than a year later he will tell me that this moment is still one of his most memorable about me.

I returned home later that night inside of a high that nothing could break until the morning light fell upon me...and I hadn't drunk a single drop of alcohol nor taken even the smallest ounce of any drug.

Episode One/Day Two:

The day was hot and windy and as I walked nearer to him, the sunlight pouring down over me I couldn't help but quiver in anticipation of what I hoped was yet to come.

Upstairs, it was exquisite when he finally claimed my body with his own, my legs wrapped tightly around him as he took me standing by the side of the bed. I sighed and was sore with the joyful pain of it.

I left soon after but it took hours to get my mind on anything other than the way his perfectly proportioned cock looked right before it invaded me as the filtered light of the hot, afternoon poured in from the windows in the purely white room.

Episode One/Day Three:

As I lay cuffed and tied to the bed, my body totally exposed but for my slinky black panties, he read out a letter I had written him and made me elaborate on each of the things he found most interesting. I sighed as I was interrogated and watched him as he moved around the bed, around me; circling like a shark. Something deep within made me give him what he wanted, my voice moving straight from my mind without restraint.

I moaned out loudly as he fucked me there, my arms and legs bound. my mind reeled as I felt totally captive to his every whim.

Episode One/Day Four:

Twelve is a word that will go down in infamy (until it too becomes usurped by his ministrations) for my clit.

I came twelve times in succession by his hands, his fingers, his lips, his tongue, and the tip of his cock. Held down, sweating, crying, thrashing, screaming, bucking, struggling, and utterances of "Oh no". After about four or five hours of this, he realized it was past midnight and after deciding we needed to go out in search of food and pulling be up out of bed, my dizzy, orgasm-drenched mind swirling he kissed me once and patted me on the butt with a smile.

I slept like a rock that night, my wrists tied with dark, silken rope. He remarked later that he had watched me as I dropped peacefully into a deep sleep and continued to watch me as I slept, my face still and satisfied.

I woke that morning with a sense of peace I hadn't felt in a very long time.

As the light came in over my body, he untied my wrists and sensually raped my body, his hands and his lips all over me. I cried out softly as he took me again, as my swollen kitten bent to his will and passion.

Later as I knelt at his feet, my sleepy yet contented eyelids half open looking up at him, my mind was blank except for one word: fulfilled.

I cried later that evening when I was once again alone for no reason as I showered. My body letting it all go, an internal rain to release all that I had held back before. He had captured a part of me that I had hardly ever given away and while it scared me it all so filled me with an exhilaration that I was tempted to lie to myself about.

I had momentarily lost my power and a part of me didn't want to give it back.

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Continued here.

The Monday Buzz: Pink Play Erotic Whip

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Dream: Chain

Dream:

I awake in a palely lit, night time swathed bedroom all done in pure white with soft curtains over a french window. I sit up, my legs over the side of the bed, my hands bracing my weight on either sides of me on the bed. I breathe out and the world seems to clear a bit.

 Dream a little dream of me...

--------------------------------------------------

My dress is simple; I wear a white tank top and white panties. This is a big detail because this fact shocks me and makes me feel young and vulnerable. It seems I can hear my own heart beat but I'm still inward and out and I feel safe and loved.

I let my feet touch the chilled wood floor, glossy from someone's efforts and smooth from time. I stop as I begin to stand; I feel a weight pulling on my leg, a tug, a tightness. I hear a sluggish metallic sound and when I look down at my feet, my right ankle is encircled by a thick leather cuff padded with fleece and attached to the cuff is a shining metal chain.

I am chained.

I am chained by the ankle.

I am chained by the ankle to my own bed.

I am chained by the ankle to my own bed as I slept.

I am chained by the ankle to my own bed as I slept and there's also a lock.

I knew this and when this knowledge comes flooding back into my brain, its all comfort, love and safety.

I slip down from the bed and as I look at the window before, the curtains slip around with the subtle breeze from outside. The moon is big enough to swallow me and it softly glistens as if glowing from within.

Even the moon reflects someone else's light and love.

I stretch my arms above my body, rolling my shoulders and make an archer's bow of my body. I glory in the clink of the chain against the wood and also the weight and pull at my ankle. I walk slowly from the room half living in the dream half experiencing everything for the first time. I walk softly down a narrow hallway, pass a bathroom and I look back at my chain, knowing it's length won't stop but rather give me some room to wander a bit.

I walk to the next room.

Their room.

I kneel down, being as quiet as a silent assassin, wanting to crouch and be unseen. I turn the doorknob slowly, not letting it click and disturb them. I push the door open with my forehead having gone down on all fours now. I wiggle softly into the room, pulling my chain along with me.

Their bed is ahead of me and as I crawl to it, I am calm and curious and hopeful and a little lonely.

When I reach the bed, I kneel up just enough to be able to lie my chin on the end of the bed, my vision line just high enough to see their faces, turned in toward one another in sleep. Their closed eyes make me tired and as I lie the side of my face against the bed, I fall asleep gently and feeling like a good, dedicated girl.

I wake up after what seems like years to the feeling of butterfly wings kissing my lips and the butter yellow glow of the morning sun behind my eyelids. My eyes open slowly and her face is before mine, her smile is soft and her love radiates outwardly into my own. Her butterfly lips awoke me from my restful worship of their sleeping forms.

I look over a bit to see him leaning slightly up and awake, looking down at me. All is love and I can see that they are touched and happy that I spent a silent sigil at the end of their bed, near them as I dreamt. She rubs her hand over my shoulder and up the side of my neck, her skin soft as petals on mine. She rubs my face and kisses where she has just stroked.

This is worth having slept on my knees, my legs cramping and sore now.

Her lips press to mine and he watches us, approving and amused. She holds my face in her one hand, her kisses soft yet passionate. I sigh and yawn a bit when she pulls back to look at me.

We don't speak in this, we wouldn't need to really.

I stretch again and I wiggle to free and wake my legs, the chain pulling and clinking and make me smile.

I and my chain together with them is like heaven.

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

...

Submissive Little Darling

Perhaps its already widely known but a vast piece of my sexual identity resides in my self perceived and motivated position of being a submissive.

All my psychobabble fellow students always do their own modest sort of personality profile on me and my sexuality and always find me to be submissive, in sexual deed and perception. I can't contest it as in every day and in every way I find myself filed away under the big black "S".

I've nurtured this tendency within myself to the point where I feel I've found my one true sensual calling: being someone else's.

My skin crawls with tingles when I imagine my wrists being bound above me and the length of rope trailing from them is attached to a hook above me. I'm pulled taut up like a bow by the tension of the rope so that my feet can barely touch the floor, save for the balls of my feet.

I can feel the softness of a length of fabric tied over my eyes and I can hear the jangle of rolling buckles clanging as a bit harness is secured between my teeth and around my head. My teeth bite down to test the strength of the bit and they find it sufficient to keep my wailing at bay.

I flinch as my clothes are ripped from my body, revealing my skin down to my bra and panties. I hear hushed and hurried voices in the corner of the room and more sounds of instruments being fetched. My body tenses and I let a small stream of tears from my eyes in anticipation of what’s to come. A warm hand trails down my breast bone to the band of my panties, tickling me but also making me painfully aware of how incapacitated I am. A deep voice comes close to the soft shell of my ear.

"I'm going to make you blush all over your body and when this is through, you'll be an exhausted heap lying on this cold cement floor begging to be Mastered still."

A shiver runs through my body at his words and I feel that all too familiar rush of heat and moisture inside of me. I whimper in response but the only consolation I receive is a soft rap on my bitted mouth by the tip of a crop.

In my mind a tidal wave of emotions flood: pleasure, pain, fear, anticipation, vulnerability, chill, heat. They all contradict and fuel one another as they parade around my cortex, taking me out of the moment for the time being.

A heated blow to the thigh awakens me to my present situation: my breath catches and my body recoils, dangerously upsetting my hold to the ground. I struggle to keep attached to the floor while I know he watches on, entertained. He speaks up:

"I said: How do you like a little slap and tickle?"

I struggle with communication abilities until he interrupts with a solution,

"Moan once for yes and moan twice for no."

I moan once after much trepidation. His laughter pounds through my ears,

"Ask and you shall receive."

I whimper and furrow my brow; I always did have too big of a mouth around my Sirs.

His walks a slow circle around me to intimidate me and to confuse my sense of location. I can hear his breathing and I can sense how his libido is firing up like a great kiln of perversion. The first smack to my flesh hits the back of my knee, a reminder of my totally exposed expanse of skin. He could beat me black and blue all over my body if he wanted; my body is his to poke prod and manipulate and I put myself here to be his.

After ten quick pops of the crop all over my body I’m softly weeping, small tears escaping from time to time. He pulls the strap on my bit to bring my face up to his; even stretched out like this he still towers over me like a great sentinel in the darkness. The heat of his speech reclaims my senses,

"Do you regret your pledge to be under my whip?"

I moan twice quickly.

"Do you feel like you’re ready to dive more deeply?"

I moan once with great determination. My limit hasn’t even been touched, why stop now?

>He moves away to his tool box and I hear the semblance of something metallic and automatically become extremely intimidated. When he's close enough so that I can hear his breathing, he scrapes my skin with the flat side of a very powerful knife, I whimper and try to pull away but he hushes me in a very expeditious fashion.

Pulling the hip portion of my panties taut, he slices through them with the knife and follows suit with the other side. He pulls the center of my bra taut and slices it too with hardly any effort. I can feel the shells of the cups fall away and feel the tug as he cuts the shoulder straps as well, pulling the whole garment off and away in one fell swoop.

The cool air on my nipples perks them immediately, the chill coursing through all of me. I’m hardy adjusted to my nudity when I feel the soft stroke of seemingly a thousand strips of softness touch my tummy and trail up between and over my breasts; a flogger.


I wiggle to try and avoid its reach when I realize its only provoking his sadistic side. I whimper as he lightly swings the flogger over my bottom; the sting is just a whisper of what it will be. I’m protesting behind my bit and rubbing the side of my face against my upper arm to calm myself. I’m working my way into my own early levels of sub space; my acceptance doesn’t come easily and when it does, it comes only after much near-hysteria and lead-in.


He isn't amused as he hasn’t even begun and he intends to show me my place by swinging the flogger hard onto my bottom, forcing me to reclaim my standing position after nearly losing my balance. I can feel the tears starting to rampage right behind my eyes and know that with only a few more well timed swings I'll be a sobbing mess.


He calls out my name as he lands a hard swing on my rib cage just under my breasts, some stray lengths of leather catching the soft flesh underneath my breasts. His voice clears and resounds,


"Why do you submit? Is it because you have no choice or because you have the option to choose? One for the first and two for the second, please."


He smacks me yet again, this time full across my upper thighs, he leaves much time between smacks for me to process the sensation.


I think for but a moment before moaning twice. His voice is thoughtful now,


"Oh I see, you’re a slut by choice and a submissive by compulsion then."


He doesn’t ask me to respond but instead hits me with two closely measured blows to my breasts, making me moan and curl my toes, a wail at last issuing from behind my bit. He takes my upper arm in hand and spins me slowly as he beats first my tummy and then my bottom with two severe swings. I’m sobbing and pleading wordlessly and I can feel his tension building from where I hang.


He strokes the full length of my back with three to four swings of the flogger, the wispy sting just barely grazing my bottom. I let my head hang forward and begin breathing heavily, my teeth chomping on the bit rhythmically. He isn’t going to give me time to absorb these blows; these blows are for him and his delight and for my pain and my struggle. I cant blame him for indulging himself to my pain though, as this is what I’m here for.


Just as I’m starting to feel the strain of my own weight pulling painfully on my arms he blinds me with semi soft yet strategically placed smacks all over my uppers arms and over my armpits. I make a harsh intake of breath and bring my head to an upright position.


He goes behind me and its a religious experience as he begins to lap uncounted blows up and down and back and forth over my back. I scream and pant, my expressions slightly muffled by the bit in my mouth and my pain greatly enhanced by the darkness my eyes are privy to.


I can feel something akin to mist clinging to the well punished skin on my back when I realize he's broken the skin ever so slightly all over. He stands back to admire his work as I begin to feel little droplets of moisture sliding down my spine.


I’m moaning and pleading uncontrollably by now, my mind having slipped into a colorful and orgiastic space, my sub-space. Imagine being on drugs and falling off a cliff into a huge vat of feathers and you'll get what I feel when I've been properly taken down a notch by a whip or a flogger.


My lungs are having a hard time collecting enough air as my arms have been secured over my head by tight ropes for nearly an hour and upon realizing this, my Sir begins to take me down slowly, not by untying my wrists but by lowering me slowly to the ground where I eventually just let my body lie down where it wants to. My relief compounds into serenity as he picks me up and lies me on a soft surface, not minding my lightly bleeding wounds being compressed beneath me.


He slowly unties my wrists with care and then once I’m free, he lightly massages my hands until all the blood-flow returns before once again securing my wrists, this time apart and to the sides of the small table I'm lying on. He coaxes my tired legs up into a bent position close to my body and secures my ankles as well. I breathe methodically as he pulls me further down the table, until my legs are wide open and my bottom is nearly falling off the edge of the table.


He suddenly flicks a thin cane near my left ear, startling me and forcing a new barrage of tears to flood from my eyes. He strokes my tummy with the tip of the cane, lightly snapping the brutal tip against both of my nipples. I'm shocked into guttural screams behind my bit when he smacks down the cane on my inner thigh, my body jumping in spite of itself. I pant and chew at the bit yet again, to try and hold back my cries of pain and disapproval.


My abused skin feels as if its not part of my body, but rather a bit out in space and taking the repeated punishment of the snaps of the cane.


I feel shame as I feel the slickness of my kitten sliding out of me and dripping to the floor; I swear I can almost hear it and when he strokes my innermost core with the tip of the cane cloyingly I try to pull back, fearing pain and punishment is going to be directed there too. His voice is a shock to me suddenly,


"Petite, do you think I'll beat our cunt as well? Do you think me so wicked and merciless?"


I remain silent but instead do nothing to stop the flow of my tears soaking the blindfold. Sobs rack my chest and he clicks his tongue softly as he comes over to my side where he can speak to me more intimately. I feel sudden panic when he begins to loosen the blindfold, fearing my humiliation at his discovery of all of my crying.


His hands are soft and comforting when he touches my face, soothing my worries. He bends over my face to place a kiss on my forehead before reaching behind my head to loosen the bit and eventually take it off. I stretch my mouth and lick my lips as I look shyly up at him. I shiver suddenly and uncontrollably as he stares at me.


When he walks back over the foot of the table I'm stunned, as I am too when he lowers himself, lining up his face with my dripping feminine orifice. His tongue is shock and heat and release all in one orgiastic moment. I cry out when his tongue etches trails in my wetness and when I can feel him gently prodding my clit. I whimper and say "Sir" over and over and over again. His face is soft against my inner thighs as his mouth works on me and I wish suddenly I could reach out to him and run my hands trough his hair, be closer to him; but this is what he wants, this distance, this act of pleasure after my punishment. The affection will come later.


I beg him to let me come for him,


"Please Sir, let me come for you. Please let me...for you. For you....for you."


My words become unintelligible moans as my head thrashes back and forth, my teeth biting down hard on my lips and hand hands clawing at the rope of my restraints. Suddenly his head pops up and he speaks softly to me, his lips and chin glistening with my produced amorous flow.


"You can come after you count to ten and once you reach it, I want you to yell it out and come as you do."


I get nervous in situations like these because times before I've been told to come on command and I just couldn’t do it; its about a fifty/fifty situation and it always makes me feel horribly disobedient when I can't reach it.


I begin to calmly and slowly count to ten in my mind, the numbers sliding softly through my brain as I reach them. My body is like a bucking wild animal by this time, while my mind is the most controlled item in my possession. When eight comes bubbling up my anxiety increases. Nine now, preparing for ten.


"TEN!" I scream out, my lungs exploding as my body seems to dies and be reborn within the instant I realize it has submitted to his will and has given me a star-filled and ecstatic orgasm.


My head lulls from side to side as I come to from my seeming coma. He strokes my cheeks softly now, his face above mine, my scent clinging to his face and enveloping me.


I let some huge breaths escape my as I recover; he is a permanent shadow above me, the only audience to my pounding existence.


I forget who I am as he unties me, throws me over his shoulder and carries me out of the room.


I have no idea where I'm going but I know whatever it is, I know I'll try and please him. I am his.

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


...

So after all my doom and gloom lately, I thought I'd post something a little more creative. How did you like it? My fiction it seems, can be as good as my reality.

Disobedience

This is a departure from what I'm used to writing and posting for this blog but I hope the BDSM erotica fans out there will enjoy this little fantasy.

I think I need a little help with these...

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Her eyes lit with a moment of clarity and wit and her mouth burst with its gift of intonation and sass to tempt his sadistic side,

“Touch me.” She said, simply and with force. Not at all like Master wanted her to ever raise her voice toward him and she knew it.

She wiggled her ass behind her like an expectant puppy, feeling the soft silk of her panties against her skin. The way her breathing felt so keen when she had her posture collar on made her feel very bold, instead of restricting her behavior like it should have.

His strong hand whipped back, the leash attached to the collar encircling her delicate neck pulling her head up and forward in a flash. The sinews in her neck stretched painfully taut as her Master’s breath settled warm in her wincing face as he began to speak. A subtle choking sensation kept her from crying out as he glared into her disobedient eyes.

“My dove" he said tightly, "why would Master listen to such an impertinent command from those cherry red lips and when given in such disrespect?”

She wiggled, her eyes wide with expectation as she listened to him. She knew she dared not to try and utter a sound. His grip on the leash cinched a few more inches as she winced in soft pain.

“You know that when your body feels an urge, all you must do is get on your dainty little knees, crawl toward Master and beg him to give attention to your wanton body. Haven’t I taught you anything?”

She nodded as a tear squeezed from one eye, all of her energy focused on the points of pain on her body; her knees against the hard, cold ground, her aching neck and windpipe that were stretched to their limits from being hoisted up towards Master’s face by her collar and leash. His words settled in her mind and she reprimanded herself for such a slip of impertinence.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson, my little kitten.” His words were like daggers as he dropped the tension on the leash and unhooked it from her collar. He ordered her to walk on her knees to the other side of the room and crawl back toward him with all of her grace. As she crawled gingerly toward him, her hips sauntering from side to side, her mind concocted versions of her punishment to come with a lingering yet fearful satisfaction.

“Good, my kitten. Now kneel up and rest your pretty little face against Master’s thigh and whisper to me with all of your most beautiful words so that I’ll forgive you and take the time to ravish your body.” She smiled inside while her face displayed utter respect and rapt attention.

As she lent forward, placing the side of her face against the muscular thigh hidden beneath his coarse pants she looked up into his eyes, truly feeling her place in the world. She breathed in deeply of his musky scent that was all at once warm and sweet and familiar. How many times had she been at his feet like this? Countless memories came to mind.

She smiled up at him with the most adoring expression; she couldn’t help but to feel happy even in the midst of waiting for her punishment. Her voice was soft and sweet and full of love when she spoke,

“Oh my Master, I’m so sorry for breaking protocol and letting my horrible side show through. I only felt such lust inside of me that I couldn’t keep it bottled anymore. I want you every moment of day and it hurts so much.’ She rubbed her cheek lovingly against his thigh, ‘Please forgive me for making you angry, I didn’t mean to and I’ll try to be better.” She closed her eyes as she savored every sensation she felt; emotional and physical.

He reached down and gently forced his thumb into her mouth, gripping her bottom jaw as he raised her eyes within his line of sight, the anger gone from his face,

“Yes poppet, I forgive you and if only you didn’t have such large eyes I would be able to stay mad at you longer like you deserve. Now let me know what you’re feeling that you can’t keep it bottled anymore.” Even his questions were commands; her body shuddered with anticipation. His voice never grew soft but only more controlled. He released her jaw so that she could speak,

“Thank you Master.” She leant down and kissed his shoe softly and lingeringly. She knew to never hold back what she was thinking in a situation like this and her voice was lit with passion when she spoke again,

“I only want for you to possess me and make me cry out for you. I want you to be inside of me. Please take me Master. Please. Please Master.” Her last word was filled with a sigh of pure frustration and need.

She rubbed against him like a satisfied cat as she brought herself more fully up on her knees. His hand reached down and gripped a fistful of her hair, exerting pressure so she was forced to stand.

She lent her head against his shoulder as he held her against him, her hair falling over her face and contentment spreading over her. His fingers wrapped themselves around the back of her neck, pressing her collar into her skin and bringing her lips closer to his. His lips moved like small wings so close to hers as he spoke,

“You’ll never hit the peak of my displeasure as long as you live but you watch your sassy mouth because next time I may not be as willing to fall to my own desires and spare you.” He bit her bottom lip softly and she swooned passively and relied on his arms to carry her weight. She was rapt under his machinations and nothing could pry her away now.

His lips shocked hers with intolerable warmth when they met, his motions at once strong and domineering. She made soft cooing sounds as he took her mouth savagely and with much pleasure. His big strong arms wrapped around her body, the strength of his hands nearly hurting her in his passionate embrace.

Caught: Domination

In my city, its bustling, its frantic, its a party 24/7 and people come from all over the world to sample what it has...Its a very public city. Everyone sees one another...everywhere.



He caught my eye. I didn't know him.

He caught my eye and dragged his eyes down my body. Over my primped cleavage meant for my boyfriend, over my arms to my delicate wrists, down my back which was nude to the world by a halter top. Over my hips and down my ass to my thighs in skin tight low riding jeans and down to my small feet encased in tiny black heels.

He knew me for what I was. He caught me.

His slave was at his side, dressed like a whore, collared like a pet and whining like the puppy she was to him. He was stern, she was enthralled. He was dismissive, she was timid.

He caught me. He caught my judgment. Of him. Of his slave.

I caught him.
---------------------------------

At the casino a comedian was headlining that Gadget loved so I dressed cute, slapped on some tiny heels and we headed out into the rainy twilight to find the laughter we knew was hidden somewhere. As we walked beneath the cloud protected sky and over the decorated cement I felt such comfort with his big hand holding my tiny one.

We stood in line for tickets and the sky became more heavy and I prayed for it to stay bated until my glamorous hair and I were safely within the theater. I could feel heat behind me, not like fire, but like a gaze. The fire intuitive women like myself feel when a man is staring at us, taking our bodies with their eyes and twisting it to fantasies in their minds.

I felt this fire behind me and when I turned I saw him, with his eyes afire for me. And then I saw her. Her eyes were afire for him.

Her hair was dark and she was collared, she was corseted, in a miniskirt and break-ankle heels all topped off with street walker make-up and a pet's enthralled gaze. She belonged to him. I could feel it and he knew I felt it.

Its not paranoia, its the energy. If you've been under the whip of a Dom, you can feel them around you, you can feel their power over their slaves, their pets. I can always feel it.

My neck twisted back forward and I pressed harder into Gadget, he felt the pressure and looked down at me with a smile. He didn't know.

He wasn't aware that the whore in me had been spotted by a Dom and my hatred bubbled up inside. Panic flushed into my cheeks beneath my perfectly applied foundation and my teeth bit maniacally at my rouged lips.

I heard him speaking to her like he would in his dark home, but out in the light where I'm supposed to be safe from all the darkness and I felt the heat in my wrists as if I was bound. I felt the heated whip of leather against my raw, red and abused skin, the bruises bubbling up from deep inside my flesh.

I took a deep breath and looked at Gadget as he made his transaction with the coiffed ticket girl and realized that my skin was my own and it was perfectly pure and untouched. I owned myself. My skin has healed and has become rosy pink like always and smells of soft flowers after I come from the heated water of my shower.

I pulled gently on Gadget's wrists once we were safe and away from the Master and his slave, safe from the setting sun and in the lobby with others,

I felt one of them. I saw him and he had one. He owns her.

Gadget looked at me and held me close and kissed me quickly, understanding and settling my nerves in his passive and beautiful way. I felt his love and I felt safety. But most of all...

I felt as if I belonged with him, but belonged to no one, and that was the best feeling of all.

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

Tech Tags: BDSM, slave, master, woman, erotica, sex, panic, bound, whips

Bound by the Night

With so much going on in my life including a new semester of Uni starting next week, working at the newspaper, worrying about family issues & trying to have as much meaningful sex with my boyfriend as much as possible...I'm feeling a little stressed.

Though luckily for me, my boy knows how to snap it out of me.

Someone has been a very, very oversexed little girl...

Though I'm no longer in the intensive BDSM lifestyle, I still love a hard spanking sessions, having my ankles and wrists bound with my ass sticking up in the air, my face pressed to the soft sheets. It makes me the best la petite possible, its sort of like the "Refresh button" for my sex drive.

Last night as I lay on my bed with Gadget talking about his current issues with his work space, I interrupted our serious chat with some well-reasoned thoughts,

I really would love for you to press my shoulders to the bed and spank me until my bottom is red. Maybe I can stand in front of you after and thank you by doing that thing you love, the dance thing.

He laughs in that way that isn't really laughter but shows his amusement and interest. I hear him fumbling through the dresser drawer as I rip off my tight tee and kneeled on the bed in my white and blue polka dot panties. I can feel the air pressing on me; warm, heated by expectation and lust.

When he stands next to me, as I kneel, I'm shorter than he, like always but now I feel a smallness, a need to do what he wants, what he needs. The cold metal of the black steel handcuffs presses to my delicate wrists, the tightness of it as the little clicks tighten against me, denting into my flesh. His voice surrounds me,

You've been so naughty. Naughty girl.

He holds the chain of the cuffs as he uses his other hand to tilt my face up to him, his mouth wet and hot and as kisses me with renewed passion. His voice is soft, his own, though harsh in my ear,

You don't think I'm going to go easy on you, do you?

My pulse quickens, my throat constricts and I can feel the need of his hands on me, to have my body possessed just like my mind is right now. His hand drops from the chain of the cuffs and his large grip extends around my long hair, I can feel the tips of it swishing over my ass as he gathers it into one hand and tugs, my face exposed now helplessly to him, his hungry mouth on my mine.

He helps my shoulders down to the bed with one hand on my chest and the other on my shoulder blades. I have an internal chorus going on inside my mind, so many sensations and so, so much need. He grabs a hold of the chain between the cuffs and tugs them so that my arms are fully extended and my hands are touching my panties.

His hand is harsh as it smacks against my ass. The thin cotton of my panties does nothing to shield me as he spanks my sit-spot over and over again. Tiny tears slip from my closed eyes as I see each heated spank and the corresponding pain as colors in my mind.

I slip to sub space as the spanks get harder. When his strong hand smacks my upper thigh right near my kitten I wail out and crumpled into a little ball on the black silk sheet. He kisses my back as he undoes the cuffs, they seem to get tighter and tighter with each tear-filled jerk of my body. Fear fills my mind but its quelled quickly by Gadget's calming voice telling me that he loves me. He lies next to me and pulls my body like a rag-doll to him, his arms encircling me as I try to sort my mind for the better.

After he kisses me like the broken little child that I am, admiring my tear streaked face and declaring my beauty, I get on all fours and kiss him deeply. His hands slip over me and I can feel his rock hard cock ever deepening in its arousal. I take a pillow and drop it onto the floor beside the bed and look up at him, my eyes heated and on fire in the candle-lit darkness.

When he slides to me, I lick the tip of his cock gently, sucking shallowly on its swollen head. I stand and wrap my arms over his shoulders and round the broad back of his neck. My breasts press to his upper chest, his chin and mouth dangerously close to the two soft pillows of flesh. He moans quietly as his arms wrap around my waist, as his hands smooth over my back and down over my ass.

I turn around and press my back to him, my ass wiggling around sultry on his thighs, his swollen cock. I take his hands and slide them over my breasts, my smooth stomach and the tops of my thighs. His soft noises are making me so wet, our body contact is making my mind dull and escape into the sensations and the emotions. I bend over, showing him my ass, my hands touching the floor as I wiggle and dance about in front of him, his hands never leaving my flesh.

My warm skin flames into a fire as I slide my body down, my strong legs bending so that I hold a squat in front of him, my arms resting on his thighs like a great armchair, his hands seeing to warm further as they grip my breasts. As he starts to moan in a pleading, soft way, I turn and drop down, my mouth on his cock.

He leans back as I look up into his eyes, my lips around him, my tongue swirling on his flesh inside my mouth. I suckle gently as I move my mouth up and down over him, his flesh ever hardening. I can feel the tell-tale signs of his cock head swelling and joy floods my mind as I reach down into my panties and rub my dripping clit. His come floods my mouth as my fingertip busies itself on my swollen clit. I hold my lips tight around him as the final spasms rattle his body. And when I pull back, resting on my heels, I swallow his come as he watches.

He comes to me as I kneel before him and wraps his arms around me, kissing me deeply, his voice thick and nearly child-like,

There are no words to describe how wonderful that was. You're the best baby, you're so wonderful.

I can feel myself letting go of my insecurities and become that sensual being that I would only let myself become when a man and a fuck didn't matter to me. I can understand myself better when I look at myself as he does and as the world does.

Life gets better when you just let yourself go.

........

...

Tech Tags: cock, lapdance, spanking, handcuffs, discipline, BDSM, panties, orgasm, cum