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.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
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!
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.
Shit.
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.
"Yeah."
"OK, that's fine."
And then I went home with him and fucked the memory of that cop sonovabith right out of my mind.
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.
Shit.
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.
"Yeah."
"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?”
“Yes!”
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’.”
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?”
“Yes!”
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’.”
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