Jul 292014
 

*Trigger Warning

As Annie disembarked the small speed boat into the surf of the deserted island. She wondered if this was worth it. Worth all the money spent to get here? To find herself, and be broken. She looked at the small man that brought her and disrobed. This island was here to shed your social skin…and find yourself. She threw her clothes back into the boat. “I will see you in 24 hours, ma’am.” he said to her and sped away. Leaving her alone.

 

As she was gathering her thoughts and getting her bearings, she saw the glint of a bottle, mostly buried in the sand. Inside she found a note that read: “This is what you wanted, this is what you sought, make three wishes but remember, things won’t be as easy as you thought.” She laughed a little. She wasn’t looking for easy, she was looking for something new.

 

“Well…wish number one here we go,” speaking aloud she says to the sky, to the waves, to nothing really. “I wish for pleasure.”

 

Nothing happened right away. Slowly her body began to tingle, starting at her toes. It felt like a million tiny impulses running through her body. A thousand tongues lapping at her skin. Her head reflexively fell back as the sensation neared her hardening nipples; like they were being bitten by two invisible men. She could almost feel the wetness of a mouth.

 

She  felt  finger tips grabbing her skin. She laid her body down in the sand to better receive and enjoy her transparent pleasure. As soon as her back touched the ground she felt her wrists being pinned down, her legs forcibly spread. Annie moaned and as soon as she took her next breath it felt as though she was being penetrated. She screamed and her chest heaved, she wanted to push her body into whatever was thrusting itself into her, wrap her legs around it and draw it in deeper like she would a man. Instead she came. Hard and wet. She could feel her twat was flushed and creamy.

 

Just as her breath was slowing, she could feel the pressure leave her wrists and the tingly sensation of pleasure leave her body. Annie laid in the sand for a few moments, sexually spent, feeling ravaged and complete.

 

As she eventually brought herself to stand she decided to take a better look at her surroundings. There were no structures on the island. No people. She wasn’t sure what the island was. It wasn’t on any maps and was owned by a mysterious gentleman that she never met. Her friend Lisa told her about the island and did all the negotiating for her. Lisa said, “this island is unlike anything you have ever seen. It will provide you with all of your desires.” Once the trip was set she received her list of rules.  Among them was a no clothing rule.

 

And one that said simply: “Be careful what you wish for.”

 

The first wish worked out just fine for her. If the other two worked just as well, she was in for a great twenty-two hours. She decided to wait a bit before her next wish. Exploring the beach she found some beautiful shells and saw a pod of dolphins not far from the coast. She found a nice shaded area of trees that had a view of the beach and sat in the lotus position, her back up against one with the smoothest bark. She stretched her arms high above her head, closed her eyes, and made her second wish. “I wish for something unexpected.”

 

Annie opened her eyes and saw vines travelling down from the leaves, they bound her wrists to the tree and came up from under the sand and restrained her legs. They were whipping around her, lashing her skin like the switches father made her cut for her spankings when she misbehaved as a child.  A thick vine worked its way between her teeth like a bit and she immediately regretted the wording of her second wish. A few thick, sleek  vines started descended from the trees. They were slapping at her skin and heading for the wetness between her legs. She tried and failed to squeeze her legs together. Every time she pulled away her restraints got tighter,  burrowing into her skin. This isn’t what she wanted. But there was nothing that she could do to fight it off…tears fell down her cheeks as the first vine found its hole. It felt as though it was ripping her apart. Two of the other vines were wrapping themselves around her large breasts and they were so tight that they were turning purple and ached.  Waves of pleasure came over her even though she was fighting against it.  She was breathing harder and an orgasm was building deep inside. She was whimpering as the vines were violating her body. The one inside of her felt like it was writhing around in her tight cunt and was getting more aggressive. By now Annie was moaning and her hips were moving with the invasion. She could hear her pussy sopping wet. It was going to make her squirt. A fucking vine was going to make her squirt. She finally reached her climax and the power of it pushed the plant from her pussy and a small flood exploded from her. Once she stopped shaking and convulsing, the trees retreated from their assault and she fell to her side. Exhausted she drifted off into sleep.

 

Annie slept for hours. When she awoke the sun was coming up over the island. She was sore and dirty. Her skin was red and welted. It looked like rope burns all over her body. She decided to make her third wish count. She walked to the spot where she was dropped off and looked out into the sea and said: “My third wish is to be done. I am done with this I want to go home.” As soon as the word home escaped her lips, the small speed boat could be seen making its way to her. The same small man handed her her clothes, neatly folded.  After she dressed and boarded the small craft she sat with her eyes to the floor. She looked at the man and asked, “How did you know to come so early.” He looked over to her and said “No one ever makes it to the third wish. Master’s island breaks everyone.”

 

-Envious_Twilight

 

*Both of the Cammies sisters were oddly stumped on this prompt, but not participating in this meme left them unsatisfied. Luckily a friend had a solution and the negotiations of the story were left in her able hands.

 

A Darker Flame Badge - S

Jul 282014
 

As you may know, from my disastrous beginnings so far, I’m the Domme in my 24/7 D/s. That means that unlike my olden days of being a carefree sub, I’m now supposed to be the big bad top. I think I’ve done pretty well so far, but I’m not proof against some teasing.

I’ve been pretty pleased with the glowing red marks I’ve produced, and my art with markings. I even take pictures for bragging rights. I’m in with some pretty heavy players though, and am starting to feel like the kid sister.

“Oh his ass is red? That’s so cute! Where’s the purple though? The varying shades of misery? There’s only a microscopic scratch left the next day? Adorable!”

Grumble. I know it’s just razzing but at one point I felt the need to point out the glaring fact that my boy is new. He has played with an amateur, bedroom only, player before me. That’s it. In fact, during this apparently coddling spank session he even asked me to switch cheeks through gritted teeth. I don’t want to break the toy, I’ve barely gotten it out of the package!

I have fun beating him. I do. The devil of it all is that also, he hasn’t done much to earn that reward yet. As you’ve seen from previous posts, I’m still dealing with a ton of behavior modification that has required very firm handling and has reaped very few rewards for him.

I still haven’t gotten the cattle prod they used for corrections. I know the verbal corrections aren’t working but I definitely don’t jump right to the physical. I don’t even own any punishment toys yet. There’s a lot to buy. It’s like adopting a puppy, a really bratty puppy who enjoys pain so you have to find something other than spankings for negative consequences. Much like that puppy, there’s tons of peripherals to buy and I need to prioritize.

Thank God he hasn’t peed on the carpet yet, although he did flood the bathroom because he didn’t realize the shower curtain needed to be IN the shower to be effective. So excuse me while I go purchase a squirt gun to blast in his face when he derps. Sigh.

Wicked Wednesday

 Posted by at 9:20 am
Jul 252014
 

**I was going to skip both Flash Fiction Friday and Five Sentence Fiction this week, but when “fearless” came up, my absentee brain connected them both and I had to write. So thank you, both of the prompters, for inspiration.

*********************************************

Fearless is knowing your limits, pushing to them, but not compromising past your own self-imposed boundaries. To trust in another, to know that even blind, naked and vulnerable they will keep you safe, is bravery or stupidity – or a strange concoction of both; love and lust can blur lines with the coursing of adrenaline telling your brain that this is what you want, who you want. Your heart may beat maddeningly crescendos, your senses may cloud where perhaps all you hear is your thrumming of blood, but still you proceed – albeit a mass of nerves.

 

Respect is knowing the line drawn in the sand and standing to meet them but not forcing over; it is constantly checking in with the person who has trusted you; it is not judging that person who stands before you with confessed dreams, breathing deeply, nervous and anxious. You may be nervous too, but you are the foundation on which they teeter, on whom they depend on, who provides the safe ground and guides; you are strength, planning, fortitude, yet you are only human and part of that plan is knowing the exit for you both should either of you desire such, so you proceed cautiously.

http://31.media.tumblr.com/ca965f46c4fc7d681ec8ceab888565aa/tumblr_mlqo52eLNK1qb7qcao1_500.jpg

Flash Fiction Friday Rules:

Keywords: entrance or exit, but not both.

Forbidden words: blindfold, slave, slut

Bonus words: tell us about your first experience with a blindfold or sensory deprivation.

Extra credit: put more than two people in the room, but don’t let the extras touch.

Word count:  150 words from her perspective and 150 from another

Lillie McFerrin Writes
 Posted by at 9:38 am
Jul 242014
 

I was laying on my stomach after two rounds of sex. My body was relaxed, melting into the bed.

He had left the room, I heard him come back in and shut the door, the bed dipped down from where he sat next to me. Feeling lazy, I didn’t even turn my head towards him. He began rubbing my ass, followed by playful slaps, every so often increased the force to an actual smack. Soft, soft, pat, pat, smack, sting. And again, and then back and forth from one cheek to another, in such a regular rhythm that my heart seemed to beat to his cadence, before changing up the pattern, becoming more unpredictable with more force and less playfulness.

My cheeks were stinging, my ass was clenching and bracing in anticipation of the next spank. My world became smaller until it was just him and me, the stinging heat of my skin, the dampness between my thighs. He halted and caressed so very lightly, occasionally leaned down to breathe on my reddened cheeks. And then his tongue delved into my sex, and I came. He spanked me again, licked and sucked and fingered to orgasm, spanked, and soon no matter what he did, I seemed to cum, and my ass was up in the air, welcoming his touch, his kisses, his fingers sinking inside of me.

He had leaned forward at one point to grab something from off the nightstand, and the hair on his thigh was treated to my slick sex sliding up and down it – even that drove me to pleasure. My thighs were drenched, trembling, by the time he entered me from behind. He thrusted in and out quickly, forcefully, consistently. I screamed and pushed my hips up, meeting him, eliminating any space between us, grinding down and around his shaft. He seemed to hit a spot, move slightly, hit again, and again, so consistently, so hard.

He started telling me when to cum, that I was going to cum again. He told me when I would orgasm, slow for just a second or two afterwards, pushed me back up to another one. “No,” I begged, denying another orgasm.

“Yes,” he stated simply, pushing deeper, fucking me harder. He started counting the orgasms: 1 2 3 4 5…hold….such a long 5. “Down,” he’d whisper, pulling back and moving more slowly. “Again,” and he leaned in more, hit and rub and thrust, count five orgasms, hold me there.

After three times of this, with sweat dripping down his face, dripping dripping down my back, pooling in my arched lower back, my body also drenched and sexually exhausted, I clamped down so hard that I wasn’t allowing him full access, no matter what position he tried. Sure, I was still being pleased, but he felt so close to his own, and he couldn’t get that without full penetration.

Not to mention he knew I was ready to come down for the overwhelming ecstasy that I was experiencing.

He leaned back and I was in a near comatose state, not even feeling grateful for what I took as a respite, not really feeling anything besides my pleasure and exhaustion. “Roll over,” he instructed, and I did. In missionary position, he leaned back and pinched my nipples, instantly bringing me to orgasm and causing me to move against him in pursuit of  my own pleasure.

He spread my legs wide, with knees almost to ears, keeping his arms behind the knees, entered me fully and deeply, hit a delicious spot back in my depths. I screamed, and was vaguely aware of him verbalizing that he was close, that I was going to stay there until he reached his own climax.

His ragged breathing and gasps of pleasure were an amazing sound, the feeling of him tensing into me, and then almost falling against me, before slowing and withdrawing; I ridiculously didn’t think his own orgasm would be accomplished that night, so long had we gone.

With breathing a challenge, I lowered my shaky and stiff legs down, rolled away from him, clung to the side of the bed. He laughed and rubbed my back, laughed again at my sharp intake of breath.

“I won’t touch you, I’ll let you down,” he promised, and moved some hair out of my face. He let me doze for a few minutes, his questioning: “are you okay?” waking me, and we attempted a conversation – him answering questions or just talking, me making no sense and rambling about trifles. “I’ve never seen you this out of it, where you can’t even follow a conversation,” he said. His hand gently caressed my back after a while, testing how sensitive I was, and I no longer gasped for breath, just felt very foggy, exhausted, relaxed, peaceful.

When his fingertips finally grazed my reddened ass cheeks in his caresses, I felt my body clench of its own volition, the skin so very sensitive from the spanking that started it all.

 Posted by at 9:28 am
Jul 222014
 

TMI Tuesday: Relationships

TMI_Tuesday_Relationship

1. What is the first thing that pops into your mind when you see an attractive person?
Lick them so I claim ownership – just kidding! Normally if my husband is around, I’ll point them out. Or I’ll attempt to have a conversation with them – I like talking and I normally find people attractive (to me) if they’re interesting to talk to.

2. What is your idea of a dream date? Describe the person and the type of date experience.
A light snack and stroll. A full day of words building up anticipation. Hours of rope, domination, orgasms. Cuddled and appreciating each other afterwards.

3. How many serious relationships have you had? Were you in love?
Four, I was in love for some of them. I consider it serious if I’ve lived with them – fighting over who is going to do dishes is pretty serious, in my humble opinion.

4. How many casual sexual relationships have you had?
Far too many to count. Not to mention what counts as a sexual relationship? Yep, far too many to count.

5. What will ruin a relationship for you?
Like BawdyBloke said: Broken trust: lies and psychological games are the biggest turn-off for me. I can’t abide them.

I think communication and trust have to be intact for a healthy relationship. Miss even one of these, and you’re on a slippery slope down. Control is a huge factor for me as well. I’ve had far too many men control or/and try to change me, because what they liked in the beginning they can’t see working in a long term committed relationship – for some stupid reason. And I’ve no idea why anyone would want to control someone they love (unless they both want it) – it changes the dynamic of the relationship and becomes unequal.

Bonus: What is your definition of sexy?
Confidence. A person can look all sorts of ways, but my goodness, confidence gets me so hot.

Image and questions from the TMI Tuesday site

TMI Tuesday blog
 Posted by at 9:18 am
Jul 212014
 

Once upon a time, a bratty, accident prone rope Bunny met a Rigger who could tie her up in knots. The Bunny and the Rigger spent many blissful hours entwined together, although only one of them was actually bound. One day, the rope Bunny found herself in the tragic position of having a shoulder injury from a car accident. This injury saddened and frustrated Bunny because how then was her magical Rigger supposed to tie her? she could barely do her own bra hooks. Prolonged bondage would now be impossible with the Bunny’s shoulder behind her back.

 

“Fear not my gimp Bunny!” Rigger consoled, “for there is many way in which we can still have our fun.” The Rigger’s eyes lit up with that special light of creativity and a hint of devious delight that so turned Bunny (the Gimp) on. The Rigger caressed the rope held between his fingers as he gazed at her in a faraway manner. The light of inspiration changed his face and the Gimp became hopeful. Having stood naked while he was in contemplation, Gimp was growing impatient. She brushed her thighs with her fingertips as Rigger slid the first strand of rope around her neck.

 

The Gimp found herself wrapped much like a mummy, with her wrists tied to the opposite arm. It was ingenious, and quite a comfortable way around the problem. Gimp became the Bunny again as ties such as these allowed her to still enjoy feeling the rope tight against skin, another layer of pleasure as the Rigger brought every nerve in her body to life with his playful hands, his ardent mouth, his wonderful sex.

 

Some months later, while poor Gimp was still in physical therapy for her tragic injury, an evil pair of stilettos brought her lower still. Crashing to the ground on a foot with an old injury, Gimp once again found herself in the ER, then she found herself on crutches and in yet more bandages.

 

“I swear you’re doing this on purpose, to test me little Gimp” the slight twitch of his mouth showed that Rigger was teasing as Gimp lit up in a blush. Suddenly they not only had her right shoulder to contend with, they now too had her left foot. The Rigger tsked as the Gimp shifted her stance in guilt and nervousness. The ankle was out – the Rigger couldn’t go near it. The arms couldn’t go behind the back… but there was an additional problem….

 

You see Gimp was also a brat, a clever, flexible brat who had advanced training in bondage escape due to having two older sisters. The Rigger was not so naive to assume that the Gimp Bunny wouldn’t escape her bonds during her convalescence. After all, it was a bit of cat and mouse between them, trying to outsmart the other.

 

Using Gimp’s injuries against her while still ensuring safe play, Rigger tied Gimp’s wrists to her calves, steering clear of her ankles by having the ropes above the danger zone. Securing the calves to thighs, and the neck to the whole ensemble, left the gimp looking somewhat as a trussed up rolly polly. A gleeful smile played upon the victorious mouth of the Rigger as the Gimp require assistance to even roll over. The smile was suddenly mirrored on Gimp’s face as Rigger slid inside of her waiting warmth. Her body ready for the pleasure and the pain THEY chose to create, not that which was created by the Gimp’s injuries.

The Gimp Bunny, rolled onto the side with the uninjured shoulder, couldn’t help but to moan in release as Rigger brought wave after wave of pleasure as he drove into her with increasing adore, knowing that he could now use her as he would; she was completely at his mercy and in his control.

 

*The prompt for this week, which was not participated in, was the Last Tree Standing. See others unique take on this…

Wicked Wednesday

 Posted by at 9:09 am
Jul 172014
 

FFF – Come Back! – July 17

 
Key Words: 
One More Time
Word Limit: 
269
Forbidden Words: 
Professor, Tears, Road
Extra Credit: 
Take off your shirt as you write
Bonus Words: 
Send someone a picture of you writing
********************************************

He had made his decision … and it wasn’t me. It hurts, my god how my heart breaks and bleeds. We had our one more time, planned. I denied it was the last.

It was glorious, precious memories made, photographs in my brain, warmth for colder nights. I was loyal, I gave him everything, my life so intertwined into his to make his life easier it was an unbearable burden at times.

I played his games; I lost.

And when we parted, I was naked and vulnerable, the reality and sadness finally crept to my eyes. He advanced without me, in her life that was a briar patched minefield of cautious steps that had caused him nothing but grief. It tore at him; I had tried to wrap those wounds and provide a more stable land.

Yet, he walked on.

The ground became haunted between us, already grief in ghosts. He looked back once but continued forward, their fingers intertwined and trapped in each other.

I was muted; I was numb. How can a person love, give so thoroughly, become one and merge so effortlessly then rip and split apart so painfully for something that doesn’t suit them?

We did match, in a way that one foreign eccentric meets another odd peculiar and sees the remarkable resemblance finally. There was no judgment, no perplex, just a knowing that we could be us.

She will continue to tear and mold him until he is unknown to even himself.

I knew him, loved him, accepted him. I found myself in him.

Yet, he remained.

Exposed, helpless, heated, wretched me. Fool that I am, I believed it could be any other way.

He abandoned me so painstakingly I ceased to exist.

 

**288 words, but I was shirtless while writing this, so the word overage is completely acceptable to me. 

 Posted by at 11:46 am
Jul 162014
 

Elust #60 Chintz header300
Photo courtesy of Chintz Curtain

Welcome to Elust #60 -

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #60? Start with the rules, come back August 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Shame Hurts

Of Cocks and Cunts: The Language of Erotica

#RealBodiesAreSexy

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

I may never suck another cock, but I’m still

The sofa

 

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7

days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

 

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

My Aftercare
YKINMK but My Kink is Not YOUR Kink either
Nerds, Pervs, and Jeffrey Dahmer
Sex Is Simple. That’s Why It’s So Complicated
Cuckolding. The Step Child of BDSM?
What Is A Man’s Role At A CFNM?
Happily whipping Jesus
What are your views on the ethics of kink?
FetLife and The Single Gal
How Porn and BDSM Helped Me

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Tall guys! You’re a bunch of sick perverts!
In Which I Fuck Up and My Uterus Saves Me
Why Is There So Much Shame?
Birds do it, Bees do it…
Little Lower Layer
Wooing, pursuing, romancing a dominant woman
Sexual Freedom. Why Do I Feel I Need to Hide.
Our Age Gap Shouldn’t Be Your Insecurity
Advanced kegel: stroking with only PC muscles
Impress your lover with these oral sex moves

Sex News,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

The Hashtag Activism…It Burns It!
Sex Worker Etiquette
Rant Break: SCOTUS and Hobby Lobby Rage
Subs Need Classes Too!

Erotic Fiction

A Flight Attendants Secret
Relentless
Sit
Festival car park fun
Private Performance
And The Band Played On
Consequences Part One

Blogging

A warning for erotic writers and sex bloggers
Bloggy, Soggy, and Sexy

Erotic Non-Fiction

Don’t Ever Make Me Wait Again
Words

Poetry

Satan’s String – a Lusty Limerick

Writing About Writing

Writing Erotica for Trans Readers Pt 1
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