Tuesday, December 30, 2008


Trust. It was all about trust, Camille thought as she stretched her arms above her head – like a trapeze artist reaching for her partner, though in her case it would not be her partner’s hands clasped around her wrists, but rather the silken cords he dangled in front of her eyes.

Her gesture was her answer to his questions. Will you surrender? Will you submit to me? She had wanted to hear him ask those questions since the night of their first meeting. The private party at the BDSM club had been populated with elegant people – Doms and subs, tops and bottoms, Masters and slaves – all alone and looking to find the perfect partner with whom to live out the most carnal and captivating of fantasies. She had never before participated in a submissive role. But the desire had been there. Overwhelming, ever-present. Vanilla sex and relationships had left her distant and unfulfilled. Eventually she had abandoned all hope of ever finding a soul-mate, a partner who would help her to fly, to soar into the subspace she’d read so eagerly and longingly of. Who would teach her body and her mind to obey and revel in the sensual pains and the submissive role.

Now she was here. Jason had cornered her at the party. He had spoken to her briefly, watched her intently, and then made a date for cocktails the next evening. She had been breathless with anticipation until their rendezvous, and weak with disappointment when he called their evening to an end.

But he had escorted her home, kissed her palms, and held her face between his broad palms.

“Camille, I would like to explore this chemistry. You are a natural submissive and I would like to be the man who shares these first, virginal experiences with you. But the choice must be yours. You must give yourself to me willingly, without reservations. I do not play games and this is not a frivolous or casual offer. Should you accept me this will be a complete relationship. I do not just desire your body. I desire your mind, and your soul and that beautiful, generous heart of yours. I want you to be mine in all ways.”

She had begun to answer, but he had laid a finger across her lips.

“Do not be hasty. This is a most momentous decision. I want you to think long and hard. I want you to be sure. You will need to trust me, implicitly. Take your time to decide if you can do that.”

And he had left her, feeling bereft of his mere presence. The only times he had touched her – fleeting touches of her hands, wrists shoulder or cheek – had made her feel alive, loved, possessed. They had made her feel amazing. She had known from the moment he offered that she wanted all he was willing to give. And she had known it was the real thing.

Beneath him, she smiled and leaped into the chasm.

Friday, December 26, 2008


Laine left her workshop and returned to the cottage the Corporation had rented for the event. She was drained from her presentation on the advertising of their product lines to alternative demographic groups and looked forward to a leisurely bath with some new Corporation products - lavender bath salts and a selection of herbal candles guaranteed to relax and renew.

She grabbed a bottle of a light red wine and after nibbling on some delectable fruits that had been delivered, she wandered into the spacious bathroom to fill the tub. She wore a feather-light pale cotton shift that was loose, cool and unrestricted. She realized that the windows were larger than she'd first noticed, looking out across the tiny paradise of her cottage lawn and directly onto another. It too was open and airy, but of darker wood, with broad windows and a masculine air. The windows were open and a smooth jazz could be heard wafting across the expanse.

When the tub was filled she slid off the shift and submersed herself into the warm, soothing water. Sighing, she reached for the wine.

The lavender did it's job, relaxing her aching feet and easing the tension in her neck. The Corporation had purchased a company specializing in sensual products and she had worked hard on the research that would make their advertising both new, and innovative - selling the product on a wholly different level than had been done before. They'd skimmed off the tacky product quotes and added new, sleek and simple marketing effects.

For her part, Laine had spent one too many nights with focus groups and research surveys. Too much talk about sex and not enough for her. The thought of sex caught her unawares and she suddenly ached for release. Her hand drifted through the pale violet water, reaching the slick folds of her pussy and she began to stroke herself.

She conjured up images of a broad male body on top of her, a thick cock stretching her cunt as her lover pounded deep into her. She spread her legs and arched her back and moaned as her fingers pierced her channel.

The sound of a bird call that brought Laine’s eyes open. She glanced out the window, saw a colorful bird flit away and her gaze fell on the second story porch of the opposite cottage where a man stood watching her. He stared directly at her, and Laine knew her body, and her actions, were on display for him.

Contrary to every fiber of her staid and straight-laced self, Laine smiled at him. She continued the sensual touch of her labia, arched breasts with pointed nipples out of the bath using her other hand to pluck at the tiny nubs.

When the orgasm washed over her, stronger, more intense than she had anticipated, she sobbed aloud, and her voice carried out, over the warm summer air, to wash over the man who watched her, his own pleasure a purely vicarious one.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

What to do with a naked elf

With a naked man, generally the first thing I notice is not the guy’s ears. But when they’re pointed? That’s an elf of a different color. And the guy standing naked in my bedroom sure as shit looked like an elf to me. Long blond hair, piercing ice blue eyes, tall, a slender but nicely muscularly defined body and pointy ears. Oh, and an impressive erection that any elven maid would covet?

“Goddess, save me, are you the Seeker?” His voice sounded like water over stones. Smooth and clear.

“The what?”

“I must find the Seeker. It is foretold that I am to impregnate her and she will bear the child that will rejuvenate my world.”

“Why would you think I am the Seeker?” I couldn’t keep from asking.

“You are who the Visionary bade me find. A woman of raven hair and violet eyes, curves the Goddess would envy and a mouth made for kissing.”

The way he told it, I sounded sorta like the Seeker babe in question. Then he threw me for a real loop.

“Are you not Philomena? The Visionary saw the name in his scrying mirror.”

Whoa. Not to put too fine a point on it, but that was me. Before I could ask another question, my elf visitor strode forward. Now my eyes were on his awesome weapon of love, and when he took me in his arms, I could feel it, as well as see it.

“We must consummate our love immediately, Mistress Philomena. The Ravens were fast upon my heels. Once my seed has been planted in your womb, they will be powerless until the babe is born.

His arms were around me, and his lips very close. He smelled like grass and sunlight and pine. Deep in the pit of my belly I felt the first curling ache of desire begin to grow. Then I realized that while I’d been staring at him, he’d begun to remove my clothes. T-shirt and thong, they didn’t take long and I was standing naked in his arms, that cock of his pressed against my belly. The ache had moved down and I was wet with wanting exactly what he offered. My mind didn’t seem to comprehend what was happening. Beyond him everything seemed rather blurred and hazy. He lay me down on the sofa, his gaze questioning. It felt like someone else nodded her head, but it was definitely me he slid inside. So tight it was near to pain, he filled me and with concentration he pounded into me. An orgasm flowed through me, monstrous in its power. I screamed and clutched him, almost unconscious. But then the opposite wall of my cute Victorian house dissolved in a wall of flame, just as my elf came hard inside me, the heat of his cum bathing the walls of my womb. A wave like cool electricity washed over me and the hoards that poised to leap into my bedroom disappeared in a howling rush.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Are those fangs or are you just glad to see me?

It was the sweetest kiss in the world but when something sharp jabbed Lydia’s lip, she had to pull back. Was that blood? In the dim light of the dashboard she looked at her date and could see the light shining on, hello, fangs?! She started to struggle but then Vlad kissed her again. She’d thought the guy was a total hunk when she met him at Starbucks, and that really cool husky accent of his was awesome. With his black hair and black eyes and killer body, she’d jumped on the chance to get into his pants and when he asked her if she wanted to take a ride, she’d been so THERE.

Now she had to admit she might have made a teeney, weeny little mistake.

“Um, Vlad, I, uh, think I should be getting home now.”

“No. I want you to stay with me.”

“Gee whiz, no can do. Got laundry, need to wash my hair, you know all that human, I mean, girl stuff!” She tried to slide out of the car but he grabbed her hand. She yanked. Nothing doing. There was all that super-human strength thing happening.

“Come here.”

“Really, no, it’s been great…”

Then suddenly his hand was under her skirt. Inside her panties. His fingers were – wow, it wasn’t just super-human strength – how could anyone move their fingers that fast…

Then he pulled her legs over his shoulders and his tongue slid into her hot little love cavern and DAYUM!

After her second orgasm Vlad had (with superhuman speed) divested himself of his clothes and had buried a most amazing cock deep inside her pussy and was treating her to a series of blistering, mind-blowing orgasms that had her lying limp in his arms and drooling.

“I yearn to taste you … to feel the warmth of your essence flowing over my tongue…”

“Huh?” Lydia wasn’t thinking very clearly, but it sounded OK to her. “Taste me, touch me , whatever – just keep fucking me Vlad!”

Then the stinging pain in her neck got her attention. But as a wash of fear swept over her, burning passion flooded her. She’d never felt anything so powerful as the waves swept her. Vlad drank from her, each sucking pull of his mouth tugging hard at her cunt.

“Uh, uh, uh.” She fumbled at his arms, but he held her in a steely grip. Her head started ringing and for a minute she almost got scared. Then Vlad pulled back and looked at her.

“Now that I have tasted you, my sweet, you are mine.”

“Vlad, can we talk, I mean, I really like to tan and how can I put on my makeup if I can’t see my reflection.”

Vlad laughed and Lydia was puzzled, but then he grinned, flashing fangs.

“You’ll not be turned. I prefer you human, my love.”

Lydia decided it seemed like a great deal. Incredible sex, a totally hot guy and hey, she loved the nightlife, too!

“Sweet, Vlad!”

Saturday, November 8, 2008

The Night I Got Stuck In The Elevator With Rocky

Kenny dumped me on Valentine's Day and I really hoped his next date, I don't know, gave him Herpes or something. He was a smooth talker, and a lousy lay - to my inexperienced mind, anyway - although he always told me I was about as much fun to fuck as a meter maid (sorry, ladies, his words, not mine....if you ever catch up with him, feel free to use that nightstick on him ...). He ended up by telling me I was boring.

"You have no imagination when it comes to sex."

I went to work on Tuesday after having cried my eyes out (what was I thinking?) til 2 am in the morning. He had taken me out for a "fancy" dinner and broke the news to me that I was old news. He'd even let it slip that my replacement - younger, thinner, bigger tits, and, oh, yeah, RICH - had moved into his apartment. He'd had my things packed up by his maid (a new acquisition - I guess Young/Thin/Rich/Bitch does blow-jobs, but she doesn't do windows?) and they were waiting with the doorman. The loser didn't even have the cahones to bring the boxes with him.

At work the insanity didn't help me at all and by 5 pm I was a sodden wreck, crying, sniffling, and blubbering all over my desk. Not that anyone noticed. Especially my boss who seemed to think that my tears were an absurd infringement on his ownership of my focus.

By 6 pm he'd hit the pavement, leaving me with a huge list of calls to make, appointments to schedule and a bunch of agreements that he insisted had to go out "tonight".

Our offices had been recently renovated and there was still a lot of work to be done, so the place looked like a war zone and no one ever stayed if they could help it. Can you say 'cough, cough' asbestos?

So, there I was, all alone on the entire floor, when the lights flickered, and went out. Having toughed it out during the blackout of 2003, I'd collected my "disaster bag" and I was heading back to my desk to grab it, assuming the worst (grid meltdown, whatever - it looked dark outside and I figured I was going to have to rescue myself). Then the fire tower door flew open and a security guard barged onto the floor and, of course, right into me.

We unscrambled and I tried not to let my hands roam all over his really fine body, before leaping to my feet. Now, don't get me wrong, I knew I might have been forced to run for my life, but hey, it's not often a girl gets to grope such a stud. I had never met the guy before, or seen him in the building. But then again, the night shift changed with great regularity and given the number of thefts we'd had recently, and his size and, uhm, level of fitness, perhaps building management was getting serious.

"We've got a serious electrical problem in the building. You need to evacuate. What are you still doing here anyway? Didn't you get the notice about the test of the emergency back-up electrical systems?"

"Well, no, obviously I didn't or I would be out having a nice cocktail and bowl of peanuts, wouldn't I?"

"Hey, don't worry, I'll get you down safely." He obviously has a caveman in his family tree, but I wasn't picky. If he could show me way down (I mean out of the building - get your mind out of the gutter!) I wouldn't mind if his knuckles dragged on the floor.

He followed me as I groped my way back to my desk, got my disaster bag and my purse and scrambled after him.

"I've got the key to override the elevator shutdown, so follow me." And he led me into the elevator which had only emergency lights running and slipped the key into the slot. The doors slid shut, the elevator started to drop - and then stopped.

"What the?" My guard wiggled the key, but nothing happened. Then he tried his radio, but got nothing but static.

"I guess the emergency back up systems don't, ah, work?" I suggested. I was trying hard not to panic, but I am so not good in elevators. Claustrophobia, don't you know?

He noticed my fidgeting and slumped back against the wall.

"You aren't one of those screamers, are you?"

Suffice it to say he distracted me. "Screamer?" My little coochie got a sudden quiver.

"You know, if you get stuck in an elevator? Some ladies freak out."

"Oh, I thought you meant, did I scream when I ..." I decided it must be the fright of the moment that made me blurt THAT out.

He actually grinned for a second.

Then the radio crackled to life.

"Rocky, come in."

My guard angel spoke into the radio. "Christ, don't call me Rocky, OK?"

"Fine, Rockford, the back-up's gone down. I got the repair guy on the way, but it may be a while."

"You mean I'm stuck here?" I shrieked.

Rocky turned to look at me. He was so not happy. "What, do you think I'll pull a Bruce Willis and climb through the roof of the car?"

"No. Sorry." I actually blushed because I pride myself on my ability to hold it together when all the shit is hitting the fan.

"Look, it won't be so bad. We'll, uh, play a trivia game or something."

He looked like he knew that it had been a pretty stupid thing to say. But then I had my own really wild and crazy idea. I bent over and pulled out the bottle of tequila I had in my bag. I was hosting an American Idol finals party at my apartment the next night and I bought it at a cheap liquor store near the office to save the few bucks. Lucky me!

I waved it at him and said in a voice I didn't know I possessed.

"Sounds like a great idea. How about strip trivia - loser strips and the winner gets a shot?"

The elevators went back on an hour or so later. We'd, uh, sort of lost track of time. We had just enough time to jump into our clothes and wipe up when the doors opened in the lobby.

"Sorry it took so long, folks," the repairman apologized.

I tried to stifle my grin and sound casual.

"Don't worry. We found a way to pass the time."

Wouldn't you know it, Rocky turned out to be a real trivia wiz.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

The Best of the Best

Cissy and Brittany couldn't believe their good luck. The fan bus had been totally overloaded and the driver looked at the two cheerleaders and shook his head.

"You're gonna have to ride on the team bus. I'm over capacity and that's breaking the law."

"Aw, please, Mr. Consterhagen! We don't want to ride with all those boys!" Cissy effected a pout and Brittany did her best to hide her chortling.

"Girls, I'm sorry, but I'll radio the coach to wait for you."

Then the door closed and the two stood in a tizzy of anticipation.

"Can you BELIEVE it!" Cissy twirled around, feeling the chilly fall air swishing across the bare cheeks of her ass. She'd broken the cheerleading coach's rule and refused to wear the stupid old white panties that looked like something her grandmother would wear. Since she had come down with a cold she wouldn't be there to pull her out of the lineup and Cissy was all prepared with the lie that she just "forgot" the old fruit of the looms and had to make do with her thong! Yeah, right!

They hurried to the team bus and jumped on board to the cheers of the team. Nothing like the anticipation of a little coochy before hitting the field to get them all revved up.

The coach scowled, the girls preened and the boys cheered.

They scurried to the back and the coach got on his cell phone and that's when the girls went to town.

Or, rather, went down. Onto their knees. Several guys did their blocking thing, and the coach never heard the slurping, the sucking and the grunting as the dear little cheerleaders took several for the team.

He never saw Cissy with a cock down her throat, or Brittany licking cum off her chin.

And He never knew why his team whipped the other team's ass.

Because Cissy and Brittany had promised a tag team delight for the starting line if they won by 14.

Now THAT's school spirit!

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Speak to me of dark things.....

The wind blew harshly as Katarina stumbled slowly through the graveyard. She tried to avoid stumbling on the headstones but every so often she would trip, fall, sprawl headlong and scrape her knees and hands on the rough granite.

Still she crept, crawled, tripped along, looking for the one stone.

As the moon rose, full, bulbous, looking fat and swollen over the dark place, she found it.

With a cry, and a whimper, she fell to the ground and clawed at the earth.

"Are you looking for me, dear heart?"

With a shriek she fell onto her back and looked up into his face.

The beautiful beauty of him awed her. Her heart pounded and she reached out her hand.

"Lucien ....."

"Yes, dear heart, it is I. Did you think I had forgotten the love of my life?" His brows arched and his mouth curled in annoyance.

"No, no, I missed you - I could wait no longer - I love you...." Her tears rolled across her pale, pale flesh and Lucien smiled.

"I have come for you, dear heart, have no fear." And with a casual gesture he pulled her to her feet and raised his cool hands to her face. The touch on her flesh should have cautioned Katarina, but she was beside herself with grief. Grief, and lust. A burning desire for the man who had just days ago made her his.

"Touch me, please...."

"Oh, yes, dear heart, I will touch you." And he leaned forward, his lips parting as he loomed over her. Katarina sighed, and smiled, and felt the shiver that his touch always brought.

"Close your eyes, my dearest heart. And I will touch you ..... I will make you mine....." and as Katarina closed her eyes, her lips fell open in anticipation of the touch of his lips, his tongue.

His breath carressed her face and for a moment the miasma of death filled her lungs.

Then the sharp, sliver of pain slid into her skin like a touch of cool fingers and the beat of her heart surged.

As the moon slid beneath a cloud, Lucian drank of his dear heart. Katarina's eyes slid closed and her lips formed a gentle smile. As her last sigh issued forth, her words could be heard across the silent graveyard.

"Take me, my love....."

"I have, dear heart. You are mine now."

And in the morning, the cape that Katarina had worn lay discarded across a gravestone. The newspaper headlines bemoaned the mysterious disappearance of the young woman, as they heralded the new century.

Y2K had not happened. The world remained connected.

And in a graveyard a headstone was wreathed in a cape.

Lucian Douglas. Born 1789. Died 1830.

As the sun set upon the graveyard and the shadows loomed, a yearning cry was heard.

Birds stilled. The night swept in.

And Lucian and his dear heart arose.

"Welcome to my world, dear heart."

Katarina smile and the moon glistened upon her newest feature.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Meeting The Master

Angelica was feeling naughty. No, in fact, she was feeling downright slutty. She wanted to get down and dirty with some guy and wipe all the aggravation of the day away in the euphoria of a nice heavy-handed submission scene. She needed some nice paddling pain to take her mind off her troubles.

Dressing in a decadently trampy outfit of a short plaid skirt and a black lace bustier with white thigh highs that looked wonderfully whorish with the black fuck-me pumps, she piled her red hair up with clips, put on lots of makeup, including the fire engine red lipstick that guys always liked to see smeared all over her face after a vigorous cocksucking.

She sauntered into the club about midnight and things were well underway. She knew most of the players - the same girls who liked to get their asses paddled, the boys who wanted a tough mistress to strap up their balls - and the masters - the men who searched out the submissives to cater to their particular needs. Angelica always got a little tingle looking over those men. Dominant, aggressive, alpha - they had no problem taking a dirty little girl and making her very very sorry she had been bad.

Saturday night was "Anything Goes" night. Newbies were warned away, told that the fun and games were intense and if they were only interested in playing, they should probably come back another night.

Angelia glanced around. The same masters that she usually saw had made their choices and were leading their subs for the night away to the play rooms. A few remained in the public areas because the excitement of performing in front of the crowd added to the thrill factor.

Angelica didn't care one way or the other. Sometimes the master who chose her would demand she take her punishment publicly, but she would just as soon he humiliated her privately. It was the dominance she reveled in, not the audience.

As she glanced around she noticed one particular man in the corner. Tall, broad-chested, he had long hair, a beard and wore black slacks and a black vest. And black boots, of course. The better for a little slut sub to feel on her back. She caught his eye. He stood a little straighter, smiled an evil, promising smile and strode toward her. She looked at the collar and leash in his hand and when he approached her and held it out, she merely bowed her head. Her pussy was tingling with anticipation and she knew that tonight was going to be something extra special. Once he'd hooked the leash, he turned and led her to the back of the club. Toward the special rooms that were filled with toys and props for the games. Her cunt clenched. Back here only serious players visited. She'd never been to these rooms but now she wanted more than anything to be inside .....

When the door closed behind her, her new Master pulled off his vest and she marvelled at the strength in his chest and arms. Muscle bulged, and that wasn't all that was bulging.

"Come here slut."

Angelica did as she was ordered and followed the tug of the thick chain leash. When she reached him, he dropped the leash and undid the bustier and pulled it off of her. He smiled at her hard little nipples and pinched one tightly in each hand.

"You've been a bad little girl, I think. Look how horny you are." He twisted her nipples and she groaned and grimaced. She loved the pain. God it felt good.

"Before I decide what your punishment shall be, we need to make clear just how completely you are mine." He let go of her nipples and undid his pants. Once he'd tossed them over the spanking bench, the sight of his thick, long, hard cock made Angelica's mouth positively water. He was hard as steel and his cock stood straight up, pointing due north, and reached his belly button. It was going to feel so lovely shoved in all her orifices. She wondered which one he would choose first.

"On your knees my little slut. Time to suck Master's cock."

With delight she lowered herself to her knees and leaned forward, lips parted and ready for her Master to fuck her mouth.

"Now be sure to take Master's cock all the way down - or you will be very, very sorry."

"Yes, Master." Angelica licked her lips and opened wide as the thick purple head was guided toward her waiting mouth. He slid between her lips and pushed deep into her mouth, until she gagged a bit before relaxing. Now this, she thought idly, was sheer heaven. She loved the taste of him, all salty, musky and dark. Like a fallen angel. He pumped slowly into her mouth, each thrust going a little deeper.

"You'd better start sucking, or Master will be very angry."

She began to suck, wiggling her tongue against the massive organ filling her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she put herself to work and he grunted in satisfaction and proceeded to really fuck her face.

Sucking as hard as she could, when he pulled back, she'd wiggle the tip of her tongue against the underside of the head, and then just swallow his meat when he shoved back into her throat. Before long it was not a matter of sucking or licking or wiggling, but just taking his cock down her throat as he pumped harder and faster.

"That's right you little cocksucker, take my cock deep in your throat. I want to gag you. You're just a hole for me to fuck deep, so just take it all. Your Master is enjoying his little cocksucker and will reward you later. Now, have some more."

He was thrusting deep and fast and Angelica was swallowing to get it down as he surged forward. She fought to breath through her nose, loving the absolulte debauchery of having a man's cock down her throat. After an especially deep thrust he grabbed her hair and yanked her head to his groin, forcing the cock completely into her throat. His pubes tickled her nose and he held her there for several interminable seconds before pulling out and letting her gasp a breath.

"I'm very pleased with my little slut sucker. I'd thought perhaps I'd make you swallow your Master's cum, but I think I have a better idea. Stand up, slut."

Angelica clambered to her feet, gasping, drool having run down her chin. Her lipstick was no doubt smeared all over her face. Her Master's cock was certainly smeared red.

"I like seeing your little slut mouth all smeared. Your lipstick looks good on my cock, no?" She nodded eagerly, aware of the glint of dominant sadism in his eyes, and yearning for more.

"Master wants to play some more with his naughty little slut. And Master's cock wants to bury it in her .... let's see, which nice tight slut hole should we try?"

Angelica's knees trembled. Her lust was overriding all other emotions. She wanted to feel her Master's cock deep inside her.

He gazed deep into her eyes and read her unbridled hunger, before smiling broadly, his teeth white in his beard.

"Yes, I think that's the perfect choice." He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her over to the spanking bench, roughly shoving her down on her stomach across the broad panel.

He clapped the wrist restraints closed on her wrists, and did likewise with her ankles. She was bent over, her legs spread, and her stomach quivered with anticipation.

When he slathered lube across her asshole and shoved a couple of fingers deep inside she moaned loud and long.

"Get used to it slut. Master's cock is going to be in there soon." After lubing her deep with his fingers he grabbed a medium sized dildo and lubed it before shoving it deep up her ass. She groaned loud now, the burning pinch and the sudden shock of being filled full of dildo unbearably good. He pumped the dildo in and out for a few minutes.

"I knew my little slut wanted to be fucked up the ass. You have the dirty little smile that tells me you love having your ass reamed. Don't you?"

"Yes Master, I love having my ass fucked, Sir,"

"I bet you like a really hard ass fucking, don't you?"

"Yes Sir, please, I love a hard ass fucking."

"Then this is your lucky day." He yanked the dildo from her ass and squirted more lube into her hole and then he was pushing his thick cock inside her, stretching her wide, wider than she'd ever felt. She luxuriated in the burning pain even as she whimpered at the impalement. He slid in slow and steady, no time to adapt, to get used to being so totally filled. He just slid in, further and further until he was all the way in, his cock stretching her ass to capacity and making her moan a steady stream.

"All right my little ass slut. Time to get fucked hard." And he pulled out and rammed in and then began a steady, hard pistoning into her ass that had Angelica squealing, begging, pleading, groaning, and urging him on.

"Master, please fuck my ass hard."

"Oh, Master is going to fuck your ass good and hard. My slut has a nice tight ass hole. It needs a good hard fucking. You like my cock up your ass, don't you?"

"Yes, please Sir, fuck my ass!!" and then she was coming hard as he reamed her, orgasms rolling over her in wave after wave, her ass clenching on his cock until he came too and she felt the flood of hot cum surge into her, heating her ass and letting him pound in once, twice, three last good strokes before he pulled out, cum still shooting out, to coat her ass hole and cheeks as the last of his orgasm wrang him out.

For a moment the air was filled with the rasp of the two of them panting. Angelica was wallowing in a state of submissive euphoria, her ass burning and throbbing and her orgasm still pounding in her flesh.

"Master believes that he will keep this little slut slave for his very own."

"Yes, Master, your slave wants to be yours and yours alone."

"It doesn't really matter, though, does it, slut, because you'll do anything I demand, won't you?"

"Yes, Master, anything."

"The perfect answer. We'll have lots of fun, won't we slut?"

"Yes sir. We'll have lots of fun."

Angelica smiled.

* * * * *

Later that night as she rolled over in bed, Angelica snuggled against the big bear of a man beside her. His arms had encircled her and she tucked her ass into his groin, smiling at the feel of his hard cock at her cheeks. It appeared he hadn't gotten enough of her. She breathed deeply of his scent and felt the calmness deep in her sould at his nearness.

His voice whispered in the night.

"Happy Anniversary, little slut."

"Happy Anniversary, Master."

"Do you like you gift, slut?"

Angelica peered through the dim light of the moon at the spanking bench that had been waiting for her in the bedroom. They'd broken it in that very evening. Her ass, in fact, still burned.

"Oh, yes Master, I love my gift! Thank you, Sir."

"You are very welcome, little slave."

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Dear Sir

In the dark, I yearn for you. I lay quietly, my eyes closed and imagine your hands upon me. You are stern and forbidding. Your rich, deep voice resonates through me as you issue your commands.

I can do nothing but follow. I am yours in all ways. I want to please you and pleasure you. I want to wallow in my servitude as yours. Your servant. Your slut. Your slave.

Despite my solitude, I receive your words as gospel.

You will take me. I know that. You have laid out the rules and have explained what will happen. You will abuse me with your most exquisite torments and gain pleasure from my whimpers and my cries. You will urge me to take your attentions and I will do so because I yearn for nothing more than to spread myself, prostrate, naked and wanting, before you.

I know what is to come. I have feared it. I have craved it.

I will bring the instruments of my carnal torments when I bring myself to you. You will lay them out and require that I choose. Shall I ask for the sharp, biting pain of the wicked flogger? Or the flat solid fire or your paddle? The paddle that you have lovingly created with your own hands, the better to train me with. Perhaps the split cane that will sting and burn as you wield it upon my willing flesh?

How will you feel, Master, as I bow beneath your strokes? As my body accepts your powerful mastery? As my flesh grows hot, sparkling with pain, beneath your ministrations?

I yearn for you. I long for the moment at which you will demand that I assume my submissive pose at your feet. The better, Master, to accept your next commands. The orders that I take your cock into my mouth. That I pleasure you with my skills as your cocksucker. That I accept your cum upon my lips as the most reverent of fluids. This will be my reward for having accepted, no, relished, your punishments.

What will be your pleasure, Master?

How may I serve you?

I await the moment of glory during which I will become your flesh, your body, your slave, your soul to command.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Good With His Hands

Ever have one of those days? When anything that can go wrong, will ...

Monday was like that. I knew I had to be at work to prepare for a big Tuesday meeting, but when I climbed into the shower, the clanking, banging, hissing and the barest trickle of water told me plans had changed.

Calling the plumber meant calling work, too, and telling them I'd be prepping at home.

But see I have a thing about home repairs and my anxiety kept me from even opening my briefcase until the plumber arrived at around 4. Anticipating the usual butt-crack delight my plumbing company generally sends, I greeted, instead, a stud who looked like he'd just stepped off a Hunk of the Month calendar.

Tall, built like a brick shithouse with long black hair and big hands that looked like they could handle the toughest job, he also had a smile that inspired the naughtiest of thoughts in my oh-so-celibate brain. One that he bestowed upon me before sauntering into the house.

I explained the problem, trying not to drool, and he wandered off to do his thing in the bathroom. For my part I tried desperately to keep my focus on my work and not on the piece of work in my bathroom. No such luck.

By 5 pm it was getting dark and I'd lit some lamps and, having given up on work, I'd opened a bottle of wine. I didn't have a date that night (or any night within the next millenium) so I never got changed, but it was getting colder and I decided warmer clothing was in order.

Mr. Plumber had stuck his head out long enough to advise me that he'd be done within the hour, so I thought I would use the time to go change.

I had taken off my bathrobe and was naked and on my hands and knees attempting to pull a shoe out from under my bed when I heard a voice behind me.

"I've finished in the bathroom. Anything else I can do for your, uh, pipes?"

I was mortified and couldn't think of anything to do or say. Needless to say the thought that Mr. Stud was ogly my ass got my engine going. But fortunately my guy was a take-charge sort and when I felt a pair of hands reaching around my waist I only gave a little squeak.

"Just let me handle everything. I think I've got just the right tool for this job."

I was unceremoniously plopped down on the bed on my hands and knees and I heard a couple of thuds as boots fell, and then a zipper losing altitude and moments later a big, thick, supremely hard cock was poking at my ass.

I must have gasped, but Mr. Plumber laughed.

"Never had your butt fucked, babe? Well, let's wait and see. There's a first time for everything.....but let's start at the beginning. I'm a very thorough guy."

But instead he moved the head of his cock to my dripping wet little pussy and in a matter of seconds, I was impaled and being ridden by a master.

God bless home repair service!

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Shot Through The Heart

I wasn't prepared to lose him.

As the girlfriend of a cop, I assumed - gruesomely - that I'd lose him to gunfire or some horrid crime gone wrong.

I didn't even imagine that I'd lose him to his job.

"Just leave me the fuck alone,OK? I don't have time for high-maintenance."

He snarled at me and I choked back tears because I'm absurdly over-sensitive and Iknew that if I tried to speak I'd lose it and start to sob.

And I'm nothing if not proud.

So I walked out of the cop bar where we'd met and pulled my purse over my shoulder.

Things had been bad for a while, but I'd done everything I could to support him. A couple days before he'd been nasty and angry and when we had gone to bed he'd shoved my head into his crotch and forced my mouth onto his cock.

I'd cried and choked, but he came in my mouth and afterwards rolled over to sleep without a word.

I'd wiped the tears off of my face and didn't sleep a wink. He was gone when I got up but I sucked it up and decided I should be more supportive. I lost that motivation early on the next day.

He'd texted me to drop off his favorite pair of sneakers the next morning. He'd left at 6 and even though he knew I had an early appointment, he demanded my attention to his needs.

Sadly for him, when I got to the precinct, he was not prepared.

He was, in fact, up against a wall, doing a tongue tonsillectomy on a young woman from the squad. She'd been the temp assistant until the permanent gal left. He'd mentioned her because of her monster boobs. I'd thought he was making a humorous comment. Apparently he was praising the double DDs.

I walked up to them and threw his sneakers at his head. The girl gave a squeal, but my expression must have scared her off because she backed away and sneered at me.

"What the fuck?" He flung himself away from the wall but I held up my hand.

"Don't." ANd I turned and walked away from him, the doublel DDs and the precinct house.

There was nothing left to be said because I may be a doormat; I may put up with a lot of shit; but I don't do cheaters. He'd put his cock in some other hole and I was NOT going to deal.

There were a couple of his pals on the steps to the precinct house and they chuckled. He offered up a couple of "fuck you bitch" before he grabbed the girl by the arm and led her back inside.

I walked down the street and wiped tears from my eyes as I told myself I should be happy to be free of such a needy bastard.

I spotted the Dew Drop Inn and made the decision to head in for a drink. Normally, he and I frequented cop bars and I never got a word in edgewise. I was more like a chair that drank. Give me a glass and I'll stand quietly in the corner.

At the Dew Drop, though there were only a few men. No women. I should have felt intimitdated but I didn't.

I sat at the bar and ordered a gin & tonic. It was hot outside and I wanted something cool.

"Bad day, huh?" A guy sat down on the stool next to me and I glanced at him.


He was tall, black-haired, black=eyed and he looked like he'd seen the inside of a jail cell. I know this because, well, I was a cop's girlfriend for way too long.

"Yeah. Shitty, actually." I tossed it off and didn't look back at him until I'd swallowed. He was watching my lips and my throat and he smiled a little when I stared at him.

Then I noticed the gun hanging from underneath his leather jacket. I sat up, leaned back and glared at him.

"Are you a cop?"

He looked straight at me and said, "Fuck, no."

"You're wearing a gun."

"I'm a paid assassin." He didn't smile and I didn't care.

"Oh, is that all?"

He looked me dead in the eyes.


"OK, that's fine."

And then I went home with him and fucked the memory of that cop sonovabith right out of my mind.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Virtually His

He was a dominant man and I was a submissive gal when we met on-line. Then we started speaking by phone, and it soon became clear that he knew exactly what pushed my buttons. One year later I was stepping into the airport in his Texas town and I saw him waiting for me, all in black. I’d known what to expect, but in person he was bigger and bolder than his pictures conveyed. And a lot more masterful. He swept me into a hug, all nice and proper, but he whispered in my ear, “Get out to my truck, girl, we’ve got some fucking to do.” And off we went.
When we talked about my visit, he’d warned he was going to spank me first, and after that get me on my knees to suck his cock. If I was good, he said he’d fuck me til I couldn’t stand up. The hotel was a few minutes away, but he wasted no time once he got me into the cab of his vintage 1988 Ford pickup.
“Pull up your skirt, girl and show me that sweet pussy.”
I shivered. He was incredibly sexy and so commanding I just about melted. But I did as ordered and loved the look of possession on his face as he stared at my snatch. He pushed a big calloused hand between my thighs and when his fingers slid between the slick, juicy lips of my cunt, I just about came on the spot.
“This is my pussy now, girl.” He stroked me hard and he leaned over and kissed me. Nothing sweet or gentle, no first time peck on the lips, he clamped onto my lips and his tongue shoved into my mouth and I was in Heaven.
He finger fucked me and kissed me and talked dirty to me until I was writhing on the seat.
“Your ass is gonna be mine, too. I can’t wait to get you bent over. I’m gonna paddle those cheeks hard, girl. I’m gonna make you beg for more, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” I was panting and he chuckled.
“Wanna suck my cock?”
Then his thumb started rubbing my clit and all the months of e-torment, phone threats of spankings and cock-suckings, warnings that he was going to tie me down and paddle, cane, and flog my ass, fuck me senseless and keep me naked and in bed – I started to whimper and he shoved in a third finger.
“Come for me little pussy girl….let me feel you come,” he growled.
And then I did, bucking and groaning, as he grinned that wicked grin I’d only ever seen in pictures.
When I recovered from what was to be the first of many stupendous orgasms that week, I pulled my skirt down and put on my seatbelt. I looked over at my big guy, blushing, and watched him smile in undeniable masculine satisfaction. Then he turned to me and winked.
“Welcome to Texas, darlin’.”

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Ready For Blast-off

The bartender stared at me for over an hour. Not constantly, of course, but every time I looked up he was riveted on me. It should have made me nervous, but instead, baby, it made me way hot!

I'd been part of a bachelorette party that had gotten way too drunk and out of control for me. I moved away from the wildness to sit on the outskirts of the group and sip my drink. I planned to cab it home so I wasn't worried, but I also didn't want the whirlies in the morning, either, which all of the other ladies were going to have, in spades.

The bartender had been stoic throughout the night. Given his big, broad, strong physique and a face that would have made Brad Pitt weep with envy, well, he was a total grade A hunk.

"Would you like another?"

He was leaning over me and I caught a whiff of some delectable cologne that made my pussy twitch. That and the fact he had focused those big, dark eyes right on me. My tummy gave a little quiver, too.

"Another drink?"

"Unless I can interest you in something else behind the bar?"

"Oh, my." I knew my mouth was open, but he suddenly grinned and good god, I wanted to spread myself across the bar and let him do me right there. My friends would probably think it was part of the floor show.

"I get off in ten minutes."

"And if you promise to get me off in fifteen, I'm all yours." For a minute I thought the voice had come from someone else. Then I realized I wanted this guy buried deep inside my coochie, and humping me to heaven. Why deny it?

"Boy Scout's honor." He held up the three fingered salute and I had to take a deep breath.

"Kinky. I like that."

A few minutes later, there was a loud roar from my girlfriends as some male strippers appeared. I paid no attention. Because Rocco the Bartender had taken me by the hand after handing over the bar to his relief and was leading me to the storeroom.

Not a glamours place for a tryst, but when Rocco yanked off his shirt and dropped his pants, I decided ambience was over-rated.

He had a cock that deserved a medal and it, and his body, were as hard as I had expected.

"Show me your sweet little pussy and I'll rock your world."

I flipped up my skirt and flicked off my thong and gave a little wiggle. At the sight of my bare snatch he smiled like a wolf. One step closer and he was up against me, his cock snuggled against my pussy like heat seaking missile. He gave it a rub against my clit and I could swear I started to drool.

"Get ready for lift-off." His whisper was lurid in my ear but I didn't care because he took both hands, slid my thighs apart and then, hello, Houston, we were fully-fueld and - we had ignition!

His cock slid into my cunt like it belong there and he had tremendous, muscled thighs that let him lift me off the ground with every deep pounding thrust into me. He grabbed my hands and held them over my head and growled and grinned and grunted every time he shoved himself inside of me. I was panting and trying to appreciate every second of the tightness, the stretching, the damned force of the banging he was giving me.

I was tight and he was huge and it was only a minute or two before I was coming with a wail and I could feel my cunt creaming and dripping,but he kept up the pace, fucking me a little harder, his face tight with control.

"Come for me again, pussy girl." He muttered as he stared at me and when he shifted his hips a bit and his groin was rubbing roughly against my clit, I shot off like the proverbial rocket and then he went too.

The last lunge was mind-boggling and I saw stars as he rammed his cock in so deep I thought I was going to need a shuttle emechanic to get it out.

Then he slid my feet back to the ground, shoved his fingers through the cum and cream that was pouring out of me and stuck those fingers in my mouth. I licked them clean while he smiled an evil, satisfied smile.

"You love being bad, don't you?"

"You have no idea," I moaned as I struggled to stand on shaky legs.

He dropped my skirt back into place, snatched the thong and shoved it into his pants as he pulled them on, and then opened the door. I was holding onto a keg of beer while I regained my equilibrium and I was actually rather shocked that he just blew me a kiss and walked out the door, adjusting his dick inside his jeans as he did so.

Oh, well. A quick, hot fuck in the back of the bar might not have been the most romantic event ever, and I could tell I was going to feel a tad sore for a while, but I smiled with the thought that I had been well and truly fucked.

I adjusted my top and sauntered back to the club where the festivities were breaking up. The gals were so drunk by this point that they hadn't even noticed I was gone.

I smiled and high-fived them as the last stripper strolled away, his g-string loaded with bills, and I gave my girlfriend a hug as she showed me the hickey she had ill-advisedly allowed one of the strippers to give her right boob. I figured it would make for interesting honeymoon chatter, but shrugged it off. Not my problem, after all. And to tell the truth, I was feeling the let down that Rocco had been like the popular grammar book - he shoots and leaves.

Then I grabbed my wrap from the back of the stool I'd been sitting on and paid my bill with Rocco's replacement. When the guy handed me back my change he'd included a copy of the tab and I clutched it in my hand as I hurried after my friends.

It wasn't until I was in the cab on the way home that I unfolded my receipt to check the damage .... that's when I saw there were 2 pieces of paper. One I'd signed for the tab.

The other said, "Can't wait to get another taste of my sweet pussy. Tomorrow for dinner? Then dessert at your place?"

I grinned to myself as I tucked it into my purse, noting the cell number on the bottom and the signature.

It had been signed, Rocco. Boy Scout Troop 69.

Houston, we are go for launch!

Friday, June 27, 2008

Save Me ....

Melanie watched the men as they crowded around her. Three of them. Tall, muscular, and eager. Their eyes sparkled and their smiles were feral.

"Wait, please!" She backed away and threw up her hands in a defensive possture.

"What, afraid?" The tallest and darkest of the three smirked. But then the smile faded and his eyes burned with intent. She was lost. She was alone and without help and these men were going to rape her, or worse .... kill her.

She couldn't stop the sob that spilled from her lips and she struggled backwards, deeper into the corner and the shadows, until she was completely and effectively trapped.

"She looks terrified, poor thing. Perhaps we should show her she has nothing to fear?" The second of the men gave her an innocent look, before throwing back his head and laughing uproariously.

"No, no, she looks like she needs a great deal of attention...." the third smiled with a cold intent and it was all Melanie could do to keep to her feet.

"There'll be no damage done." The TDH one said. But his eyes belied his words. A breath on the air, a pause, "Not tonight, anyway."

Then the three men grinned at her and descended upon her and in moments, Melanie had fainted dead away.

"Well, that was disappointing, I have to say."

Magnus scowled down at the unconscious woman across his bed.

Ian laughed. "You terrified her you fool."

Roarke grimaced at his two younger brothers. "She's human. What do you expect? And you scared the shit out of her and she spent the night in a room full of ferals, and good Goddes, what do you think she was going to do? Spread her legs and say, "ride me home, boys"?

He snorted and his brothers looked chagrined and he felt horrid.

Until he looked down at the blond, exquisite beauty of their captive bride.

And then he sighed, because he realized she had no idea that was her fate.

She was the Bride of the Brothers Grimm. Magnus, Ian and Roarke. Notorious among women for their lusty ways and among the feral crowd for their powers of death and control.

It was going to be a long night, thought Roarke. He sighed.

"Wake her up," he announced to his younger brothers. "She might as well get used to entertaining three cocks, eh boys?"

Sunday, June 15, 2008

For My Master's Pleasure

It all began with the words, "I agree".

What was I agreeing to, you ask? Well, let me tell you. I handed myself over to a most wonderful, dominant man, who had offered to take me under his wing as a submissive slave. He had excellent instincts and when he corresponded and talked with me he immediately divined my sluttish little need to submit and, voila! Here I am, a ready, willing, and able slave to my Master.

Now, you may wonder what this means? Does it mean I fetch his slippers and cook his meals?

Not so much.

Allow me to elaborate on just the sort of things I do for my Master.

He is a physically imposing man and I wallow in the sense that I am smaller and weaker and utterly under his control. I must follow his commands immediately if I do not wish to displease him. And I don't. Besides, providing him pleasure is what gives me the most incredible pleasure of my own.

Perhaps a sample scenario would clarify for you? Glad I thought of it.

My Master is quite voracious in his appetite for my cocksucking. So this is always something that I will be required to do and, quite honestly, enjoy immensely.

I wear a collar when we are together, which reminds us both of his mastery of me. Generally we will start with a nice hearty paddling to get me into the appropriate, servile frame of mind. Nothing like a tingling red ass to keep a girl's mind on her Master's needs!

Once my Master is ready for my attentions, I assume the position. On my knees, of course, as any good cocksucker will tell you, works marvelously.

"You may begin." or "Now, slut." will be my command to take his wonderful cock in my mouth.

Now if you are thinking, "eeew, I don't want to put that thing in my mouth!", then girlfriend, you don't know what you are missing. Big, hard, silky soft skin, tasty and powerful, his cock in my mouth is a delight for me. I love to wiggle my tongue around and explore all those sensitive areas that make my Master groan. I know I am doing a good job of it when he grabs hold of my hair and begins to get forceful and dominating.

And don't I just love it!

It is a wonderfully submissive experience to have a man fucking your mouth. Not so much for you to enjoy but rather for him to enjoy. In the right position, with the right amount of practice and a good dose of relaxation, a cock can go a long way down.....

And if the pleasure of being allowed to suck and lick his cock isn't enough? When he is ready to erupt, my Master insists that I accept all of his delicious semen. Rather like a wonderful reward for my diligent efforts. Swallowing is fun, but my Master, oh he loves to see his little slave's tongue and lips covered with cum. I eagerly savor it and oops, look, I got some on my fingers.

Well, I can't let it go to waste now, can I?


Well, time to go. I've got a nice hard butt fucking coming.

A good slave's work is never done.


Monday, April 28, 2008

Live & Learn

I took the most incredible on-line workshop last week. A delectable gentleman who spoke honestly and at length about the fine art of BDSM. He, and several compatriots, drew back the curtain on the psychological and the physical of the masochistic, sadistic, dominantion and submission, kink and fetish world of the wildly sexually adventureous.

Toys and playtime? Scene and safety?

All I can say is, where can I get some?

Sunday, April 6, 2008

What Were They Thinking?

OK. So I am going all reality on you here.

I mean, really, truth is SO stranger than fiction.

There's Bill Clinton. And "Monica". Before him there was even the sillier Gary Hart (a girl on his LAP??? get real!) And Jimmy Carter ("lusting in my heart"). But Bill seems almost quaint and tame once we get to Craig "Twitchy foot" and the Intern email lust monster (I can't even remember his name and why would I waste the time?) and the list is endless of religious zealots and their little love monkeys).

Then Came Spitzer. Sounds like a TV movie? Or a blockbuster, even. But the skeezy dude and his pay-as-you-go dates pretty much sums up the US problem. Attention deficit disorder.

That's why marriage is on the way out. Guys can't focus for longer than it takes to shoot their wad!

The Madam mentioned all the kinky things the Gov had been up to (and if keeping his socks on is the height of kink, Madam, I've got some stories for you ....)

But just when I thought it was safe to get back into the "swinger" of things, up pops the new governor (play on words intended).

David, David, David. What were you thinking, Dude? Sure. I can see that blind guys the world over are cheering - you get high, you get laid and you get the GOVERNOR'S OFFICE! Way to go!

But honestly. In the real world, who do you know that gets this much nooky?

Are these guys really getting blown, and laid? Do they have these gnarly babes all over them or is the NY Post blowing things all out of proportion (couldn't resist, sorry).

And what are your neighbors up to?

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Bad Girl

"You're going to be punished. You're a very bad girl."

He took me by the hair and dragged me down the stairs. Most people would have called it the basement. I knew better. I knew what it was. What he had made it. It was the dungeon. His Dungeon. And it was where he would punish me. Mercilessly. Wonderfully. Painfully.

"Strip." He shoved me into the middle of the room and began removing his wide, thick, leather belt.

"But I didn't..."

"No excuses! Or your punishment will be worse. Do you want that? Do you want me to go to the Closet?"

I didn't, so I did as he ordered.

I pulled my sweater over my head. I'm not allowed to wear a bra because he always wants to be able to see my big breasts moving, bouncing, with their hard nipples poking at the fabric I wear. Then I pulled my skirt down. Of course, I'm not allowed to wear panties, either. Every morning before I leave the house he inspects me. In the beginning I didn't believe him. And I felt weird, so i tried to disobey. I wore panties, but he cut off the first few pairs. Then he punished me. In the kitchen, in broad daylight. So naturally I tried hiding them in my backpack. But he knew, somehow, and he checked. Then the punishments got really bad and I had to leave the house with my ass bright red and so hot and sore I couldn't sit down on the bus.

Now I know better. I had no panties on. When I pulled off my skirt he could see my bare pussy - he waxes me himself - he loves the pain of pouring that hot wax on my cunt and making me take it. Besides my bare pink pussy lips he could see the ring from the dildo that he'd shoved up my cunt that morning. It's remote and he is a genius with electronics so I was being punished all day long. He made me come right in the middle of a budget meeting and I had to pretend I was sick to my stomach. Can't have all the attorneys knowing I'm enjoying a remote fuck now, can I?

Then all I was wearing was my thigh highs and my tall pumps.

"Turn around." I did as I was told, though I knew I would be begging soon for mercy.

"Bend over the bench." It's a flogging bench that he designed, full of all sorts of special little amendments that help him punish me.

"Spread your legs." I did although I knew what was coming.

"I warned you this morning but you ignored me. You disobeyed me. I'm going to show you how I punish bad girls who break the rules."

"Please, Master, don't..."

"It's too late for that, isn't it?"

He went to the Closet and I knew I was in for it. He could work me for hours and when he was hot, like he was now, it meant I was going to be worked over, but good.

He strapped my ankles to the legs of the bench. Then he clamped my arms, spread wide, to either of the poles he'd attached to the sides. My breasts were pushed tight against the padded flogging bench, but I was spread so wide I couldn't have moved to relieve the pressure if I'd wanted to.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but perhaps you'll learn from this punishment that what I say must be obeyed."

"Yes, Master."

I felt the cold lube shoot into my asshole from the lube gun. That's when I knew just how much I was going to have to bear. I liked ass play and normalliy he'd use my juice or his come to lube me up. The real deal meant major ass punishment. I should have known because he'd been talking about my ass for days - about how bad I was, and about how much I needed to be shown what he could do to me.

"If you don't do as I say, this will only hurt worse. So follow my instructions."

I felt the big, blunt head of a dildo at the entrance to my ass. Naturally I tightened my sphincter in fear. To no avail.

"I'd advise you to relax." And he began to insert what he called the Monster. I knew that's what it was because it immediately stretched and burned as my hole was penetrated.

"You are not to come. Do you understand me? No matter what I do to you, you control yourself. Or else."

Or else was the most daunting term he used. The last time he'd implemented the 'or else', I hadn't been able to sit down for a week and his three best friends had shared in my punishment. Imagine an ass-fucking round-robin and you have some idea.

I was being filled, the huge thick dildo penetrating so deep up my ass that I was gasping and panting.

"There. That is the beginning."

He reached between my legs and tightened the straps that held the dildo deep and in place. But when he shoved his fingers into my cunt and pulled the remote bullet out, I got weak in the knees. It was definitely going to be a DP night for me.

"I can see that you are not repentant in the slightest. Obviously I will need to be very severe with you." And then I heard the squeak of the Closet as he went back for another tool. He could have oiled the doors, but this way I had the expectation after hearing the squeak, of knowing he was choosing his tools, letting me anticipate my punishment.

And suddenly he was back with a duplicate of the Monster, this one a vibrator, covered with little nubs and a flared, penis-shaped head that was tough to take on my best day. I'd never had both of them inside me before.

He rammed it up my cunt with a brutal stroke and I moaned, loud and long as my insides were stretched nearly beyond endurance.

I expected to feel the vibrator turn on immediately, but I was wrong, again. He moved around in front of me and pulled out his cock. It's big, long and when it gets hard it is fearsome in the extreme. He uses it on me to command me, to show me his mstery of me and, truthfully, I crave it. But tonight, there was only one way he was going to make me take it. I knew that suddenly and I quailed.

"Open wide, you bad girl."

Sunday, March 23, 2008

The sweet sting.

I dreamed of him that night. It was dark and dangerous and the winds howled. His face had been in my mind for days. But when the lights went out and the sounds died, except for the majesty of the power of nature, I felt more.

I had tossed and turned, the candles had burned low and the restless night had kept me from the nirvana of sleep.

I crept from my bed and wandered the house, waiting for something I could not identify or name. Wishing for more than I knew. The echoes of a voice that was not familiar rang through my head. And my flesh ached for touches ... not soft, not gentle. My flesh craved his touch. Brutal, harsh, demanding. Wringing from me the screams of agonized ecstacy as my body responded to the torment he so willingly and exquisitely dished out.

"Sleep." A voice seemed to whisper. "Sleep and I will come to you." It urged me back into the dense darkness of my room as the height of the storm burst upon the house. Shutters slammed. Trees bent in agony. Winds buffeted the shingles and all around the howling of the elements raised my libido to an unheard of pitch.

I lay back upon the pillows, amid the cool sheets and closed my eyes.

"Ask for me and I will come."

I breathed deeply, and the scents of sulfur and smoke filled my lungs.

Somewhere a fire burned. Lightening had wreaked its havoc upon a house, or a stand of trees.

The acrid smells itched and tingled.

"Call me."

I breathed again and a cooler smell, of damp earth and the richness of stone, flowed into my lungs.

"Give your need a name."

"Please!" The word slipped from my lips as I writhed against the sheets. My flesh craved, desired, needed ....

"Say the words..."

"Come to me...use me....take me"

When the next sounds came they were the laughter of a dark soul. He stood over me and the dreams did not do him justice. From beneath black brows dark eyes gleamed. Cruel lips curved into a smile and in his massive hands lay chains and bindings, and whips.

"At last. I have waited. Your call is as a key unlocking the depths of my hungers."

He approached and I knew that the time had come to submit. To give in to the cravings of my flesh and my body."

"Shall I begin?" He asked, in a soft and gentle vioce that rained upon me as icy snow. One step more and I would feel the depths of the exquisite torments he would bestow.


With that there was no further sound, there was no laughter or scent. There was merely the feel of his lash upon my skin as he struck me. Again and again until I begged and pleaded for mercy. With that one cry he screamed his power.

He plunged instruments within me. Large and brutal they impaled me. My limbs were stretched wide and tied down. My breasts offered up as subjects for his brutal touch. My cunt a mere vessel for his powerful rage.

Heat, cold, ice, torment. Again and again I withstood his ministrations.

"Shall I continue? Do you wish for more?"

"More!" I begged as my flesh wept in blood and fluids as his hands twisted and teased, pinched and slapped. Candles dripped above me. His strength gave him patience. I endured as he continued. Plunging into me, stretching flesh around his as I screamed and begged.

"More!" came my cries as he plundered my orifices. Deeper and harder he came inside me. And the night became as fire as he used me. As he pleasured me. As he showered his torments upon me.

As he loved me.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

It was a dark and stormy night ...

I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. That's why I drove off the road and into a muddy ditch in the wilds of Massachusetts. I should have had a map, I should have had a flashlight, but I had neither.

I climbed out of the car and even with my minimal automotive knowledge I knew I was fucked. The back drivers' side wheel was bent at an angle. Not conducive to driving.

So I grabbed my briefcase and my overnight bag and climbed back up to the road and started to walk. The small B&B was a few miles ahead, if the GPS was correct (and why would it be? My life was a disaster and nothing else went right!)

In keeping with my Karma, the heavens opened just as I wandered into a wide open stretch of road without trees for cover. I kept trudging but in twenty minutes - about the time I saw the lights - I was a drenched mess.

"Hello?" I swung open the door and immediately spotted candles set throughout the lobby of the small quaint house. There was a faint sound of classical music - violins - wafting throughout the dim space - but no humans to be seen.

I dumped my bags at the registration desk (so identified because of the book, keys and an old fashioned quill pen). In fact, the entire place seemed like a set from a Merchant Ivory film. A bit dusty. Old fashioned.

My head had started to ache, but I persevered and followed the sounds of the violin and now a piano that I could hear. A few more feet and I realized that it sounded live, not memorex.

I called out a few hellos, but heard nothing in return. Then I came around a corner and into what could only be called a music room. A great grand piano stood in the middle of the space and at it sat a man of elegant proportions. To the side another man stood, a violin beneath his chin and his long, black hair thrown over his shoulder as he bowed dramatically at the strings.

I stepped forward and caught my breath at the beauty of the music and the majesty of the men.

They stopped playing simultaneously. Both turned to look at me and I was mesmerized by twin gazes of azure and obsidian.

"At last," said the violinist.

"We've been waiting for you," said the pianist.

And the headache dissolved and my clothes disappeared and I stood before the two clad in a black lace negligee that smelled of age and mildew.

And they pulled me into their arms and I sighed.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Oh, my....

He's going to spank me.

He says I've been a bad girl. I've misbehaved. And I'm going to feel his hand heating up my naughty little ass.

My panties lie around my ankles and he is bending me over his knees. His lap is broad and his thighs are strong and I know that he will be able to hold me down, no matter how hard I struggle or squirm.

And I'm going to be squirming.

His hand slides my skirt up. I feel the breeze of the open window as it wafts across but butt. He strokes my flesh as he prepares to give me my punishment. He makes me wait for the first blow, anticipating, waiting, wondering.

I get a spanking once a week. I have always transgressed and I know he'll have to redden my cheeks for me.

It never fails.

Lying across his lap I know he is going to be very hard on me tonight. Because he is very hard beneath me. That is always the sign that I'll going to really pay for my bratty misbehavior.

His hand comes down. Smack. Hard and tingling. But not nearly as hard as I know it will be. Soon. Next. Or the one after.

Again. One more. Another.

I am gasping. My ass is heating up. My flesh burns where I know the imprints of hiw wide palm are even now coloring up, nice and pink. Soon there will be so many imprints they'll blend together and then it will be impossible to tell how many I've hand.

He makes me count them. I squeeze out a tear and I count the next. Then I have to concentrate because they are coming fast and furious and if I lose count we start over.

Sometimes I lose count on purpose.

A lull. Momentary. I hold my breath.

His hands smooth over my tingling skin, soothing, squeezing. When he grabs a handful of ass and squeezes, hard, I gasp. Then I hiss as another blow falls.

And they continue.

But then another respite. His fingers push between my cheeks. They slide down, tickling, between my legs. I'm wet. I'm dripping. He knows how hot it makes me when he spanks me. He teases me. He slides a finger into me. I'm so wet I can hear the slippery sound as he lazily finger fucks me. Then he pushes in another big long finger ...

Have I mentioned how big his hands are? He's a very big man. He works with his hands and they are rough, scratched, calloused. I can feel those callouses as he pushes the two fingers in and out.

I'm very very tight. Because last night he told me I needed it rough. So he gave me an ass fucking that was one for the books. Whatever book keeps track of those things.

As I said, he's a very big man.

And I'm what they call, "petite".

My petite little ass is throbbing now because he's back to spanking me.

His fingers in my cunt had made me whimper and he was not about to let me enjoy myself just yet. He goes back to punishing me in the most delicious way, burning my butt with those powerful flat-handed swats.

Soon I'm writhing on his lap. I think I might be able to get some mercy if his cock is so hard he needs to fuck me and forget about spanking me.

But he's very focused.

Then, all of a sudden, I've counted thirty.

My punishment is done. My rear is aflame. My cunt is quivering. I'm breathing deeply.

And I can't wait for next week. Because I'm going to be naughty again.

I just know it.

Monday, January 21, 2008

A Long Hot Summer Day

It is a hot summer afternoon. The winds are dry but they blow across my skin as I work in the garden. Too warm for clothes, but I must bow to practicality. The filmy, flimsy dress I wear is my favorite. Loose and feather light it flutters in the breeze as I get to my hands and knees to tend to the delicate buds. My breasts, round, full, yearning for a firm touch, swing free beneath my loose clothing. My bottom is secreted under the soft fabric, peaking out as the breezes gently lift it up. As I lean forward, my pussy is exposed; the dress blows up, I don’t smooth it down. The sun on my naked flesh feels carnal and decadent. I pause for a moment, smiling at the joy of freedom before succumbing to societal rules. I resume my labors when I feel you. You are near and the earth gives a slight shudder as you go to your knees behind me. I smell your scent, the masculine musk of a man, fresh from the outdoor, smelling of sun and sweat and more. I begin to quiver in anticipation. What do you have planned for me today? Are you going to fuck me here, on my knees, outside, where all the world can see? Beneath the trees and amid the flowers, where anyone, if they are curious, can sneak a glance between the branches and see you, see me, see us …. see me with your cock inside me? You are, aren’t you?

Your large, strong hands touch the back of my thighs. They are hotter than my flesh and your touch sears. Up slide your hands, pushing the hem of dress away, exposing me to your hungry gaze. The cheeks of my ass, my slit, the shine of juices bursting from my cunt to anoint my skin at the knowledge that you are there, preparing to do …. what?

Your hands slide up, they push my dress further, up, over my shoulders, over my head, until the slight scrap of fabric slides over and down, to pool around my hands. I am naked for you. The way you want me, always. My nipples tighten. Your hands on me grow more commanding. You urge my head down to my hands. I lay my face on the dress sprawled there and wait …. inside me a throbbing has begun, an urgent beat that tries to communicate my desires, my want, my need to have you take me.

Then I feel you. Your cock. Big, thick, and god, my god, so hard. You use it to stroke the back of the thighs, the crack of my ass, the lips of my sex. There are drops of cum, the first of many, oozing from you and you paint my flesh with your semen. You are spreading my cunt now, the round head of you pushing in just a whisper, just enough to enter and stretch me. I groan and beg silently for a thrust, slow, or hard, I don’t care, I just need it inside me. Deep and filling me, the precarious spreading that can be pleasure or pain as you want it ….

More of your thickness pushes forward. Infinitesimal degrees sliding through my slick lips. I want to suck you into me, suck that cock inside me and keep it there, buried, inside of my tightness.

You taunt me. You move forward … only enough to tantalize me. You reach beneath my soon to be filled hole and take my clit in your fingers. You twist and tease it, stroking the hard little nub with your calloused fingers, the roughness bringing me to a panting state of insane lust… Then your hand moves, it leaves my little bit aching for more, but you reach forward to cup my breast, and squeeze the generous, needy flesh in your strong palm. You palm the other breast, pulling on my nipple until all my little bits are standing at attention for you.

Then you begin to move into me. It is a hot slow steady stretching of my flesh as you inexorably penetrate me. I want to push back, to take you faster, but you hold me back. You are in control and I will have your cock exactly as you want to give it to me.

And you want me to take it slowly. Excruciating, agonizing anticipation builds in every cell of my flesh. As you slide in, please, god, please hurry … I cannot stand to wait … don’t torture me … please give it to me….you push, you push harder and more of you fills me. I am crazy with wanting it.

Then you renew. You slide out and I whimper but then you are moving forward again, pushing, harder now, more firmly, more deeply. I take your cock into me but you are going to give me more. You thrust it in now with power. You reach so deep inside me that I feel you bang the end of me. Then you thrust again. Then again. And again. And I am shoving myself back, now, and you are letting me as you begin to fuck me in earnest. Slow, powerful, deep strokes that hit me again and again. You’re pinching my clit and ramming your cock deep inside of me. The sun burns down on us and my flesh is on fire. My cunt is steaming and I’m writhing and groaning and then you are coming. Cum is pouring into me, filling me, and you continue to ram inside of me, forcing me to scream and beg and then I am coming too, as you finger my ass, sliding a big finger into that tight place, and my cunt squeezes and sucks your cum deep inside of me to warm and fill me. My body takes your semen, it takes it all as my body contracts around your cock, wanting to hold it, longer, always.

Then I breathe.

The sun is burning down. I can hear again. I hear the buzz of bees and the trill of birds. The wind is blowing and the air smells green. And I am kneeling naked in my garden with your cum running from my cunt to coat my legs in your sticky, hotness…

And you are gone.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Just One Of Those Things

She was horny. That was all. She didn't mean to be a slut. She just wanted some good lovin'. Her plane had been cancelled, damn the weather channel and their crappy predictions. She had watched the board as the dire news rolled down, flight after flight after flight. As "delayed" became "cancelled" she watched. She was all alone, in a strange town with no hotel rooms left, and hours to wait. The book she'd picked up had been naughty, not nice, and she was hot and bothered as she sat in the hard plastic chair, squirming, just a little, as she thought naughty thoughts of her own. Beside her an angry man screamed at his wife, his children, his travel agent and his shrink. Across the way a family of homicidal maniacs in training annoyed the shit out of everyone in the vicinity. After three hours she lost all patience and grabbing her laptop and carryon, headed for the dark of the airport bar. It wasn't one of the large international airports and the bar was commensurate with the rest of the place. It was tacky and tawdry and the waitresses looked like Hooters wannabes. All plastic tits and cellulite asses hanging beneath red velour shorts.

She had plastic too, but it was in her wallet and she whipped it out to start a tab.

"Why not just drink myself into a stupor," she thought as she ordered up the first thing that came to mind, a Tequila sunrise - shades of college boyfriends. She sipped the lukewarm drink - a snowstorm but no ice, she lamented - and listened to the Celine Dion song from Titanic, whatever the hell the name of it was, that a sad looking woman played without interruption on the jukebox.

"You stuck here, too?" She stopped drinking and looked at the man who'd sat down next to her. Surely she was dreaming, because guys like this one just didn't exist. To say he was a hunk was to say Brad Pitt was mildly attractive. He wasn't in a suit, and he looked the worse for wear. But quite frankly, she didn't care.

"Stuck in hell, yep." She tried for laid back, to match his slouch, but she was starting to drip.

"You're not from here, huh?" His mechanic's uniform was the key to her calculation that he was an employee, rather than a traveler. All the better. He might have a home nearby.

"I'm from a galaxy far far away. New York, to be precise." He laughed at her witty retort and she added another start next to his name. A stud and a sense of humor. When she caught herself looking him over, she blushed. But he smiled and it was one of those smiles that said, lady, you are so going to like what's coming.

"Guess you couldn't get a hotel room, huh?" He moved his knee into her space and she wanted to grab hold. Of his knee, or whatever.

"Hell no. It was like the second coming of Christ at the hotel. And I'm not one of the wise men."

"Bet you'd do anything for a room, right about now." He spread his legs and slid the stool closer and she checked out the big bulge of his cock in his pants.

"Bet you I would." She said and the dripping became a torrent.

"What would you be willing to do?" He slid his hand onto the bulge and squeezed.

"Why, I would be willing to get down on my dainty little knees and suck that horse cock of yours all the way down my throat." She batted her eyes and smiled demurely.

"Well, that would be worth something, I guess." He feigned a look of uncertainty and she spread her legs for him.

"If you held my head and refused to let me go, why, you could probably make me swallow all your cum, too."

He was looking up her dress and she was thankful that she'd slid off the annoying little thong during her last trip to the restroom. This way he could see her puffy pink cunt oozing. Nothing, she thought, like motivation, and she slid the skirt up a bit. In the dimness of the bar, there was no likelihood of witnesses, not that she cared particularly.

"Nice pussy," he said, and he reached out to stick a finger into the wetness. He sucked hard on the juicy digit and popped it out of his mouth with a grin.

"Glad you like it. It's pretty tight cuz it's been lonely. Maybe if you promise me a bed, I'll let you shove that big old thing of yours right inside it."

"That sounds like a plan, but I have a lot of energy. I might need some more incentive."

"A big dick like that I bet you would. I suppose you'll want me to do something kinky, won't you?"

"You mean like maybe bend you over and spread those sweet cheeks of yours and pound my cock up your ass?"

"Something just like that."

"That would be worth a bed, I guess."

"You guess?" She was starting to wonder if she was going to have to go down on her stud in the bar, not that she wouldn't, but enough games were enough.

"See, the problem is, I've got a roommate."

A moment of silence passed as she contemplated the lovely possibilities.

"Hey, no problem. Consider this a two-fer."

By sunrise she had been fucked hard and long and had fallen asleep with a smile. Her jaw ached from sucking cock and swallowing cum. Her cunt had entertained two big rods and her ass had been royally reamed. The two-fer simultaneous fucking had been a first, and a second. But of course, they had wanted to switch places, and, after all she was a team player! She rolled onto her back and her boobs showed whisker burn. The sound of a 747 jet engine roared as she slept, the little trickle of cum from her holes dripping down onto the sheet.

Friday, January 11, 2008

The Midnight Hour

Silence permeates the night. I am alone and thoughts of dark desires swirl around me. I think of the keyboards flashing in the night. Chat rooms filled with lust that oozes into the darkness. Women searching for men. Men searching for women. Couples searching. What sorts of desires? Touching. Taunting. A woman wants more than she can ask for. She wants to be controlled. She wants to submit. A man wants to explore. How can he say what he feels? Decadence. Taboo. Dark desires. Pages shuffle. Magazines stuffed between cushions. Flesh swells and throbs. A woman lays on her pillow and her hands stray. Her flesh weeps. Dark desires. A man sees a woman in a bar. She looks. She stares. Her hungers are there for all to see. Will you come explore with me? She wants more than she can ask for. Where is the limit to my desire? Where will desires lead. Into the sun? Beneath the sky? Or behind closed doors. Dark desires.

Memories filter through. A woman recalls a boy, his flesh smooth, his body taut. She was young. She was wild. He made her feel wild. She no longer feels wild. But she wishes to. She wants to feel the power of youth. She wishes her flesh knew nothing of the carnal. She wishes to learn anew the feeling of being one with another, of being plundered and borne away on a rush of ecstasy. Where is that young boy and his desire? Are his desires dark now? Does he recall that night? The softness of the night sky above them. The richness of the earth below them. Her desires are dark now. Are his? She closes her eyes and tastes him. His body and his seed. Upon her lips she can taste it. Upon her flesh she can feel it. Inside her she burns for it. Dark desires.

The midnight hour passes and moves toward dawn. Hours left for the suffering of the flesh. Hours of night to reach for the unknown. Moments to savor his touch. Countless seconds to feel the need. Dark desires.