Sep 302014

*Some cool facts first: my favorite photo is seeing him at the side of the bed holding the rope. What’s cooler is that he made the hemp rope (except the blue) that is in these photos, and dyed them purple for me.
I had no idea I was in trouble. I was thinking we were just engaging in awesome sexual play. And while rope doesn’t always come out, he loves rope so much that it’s not unusual.

My legs were tied up. Then my wrists were bound separately, thickly wound and pulled back by my head, held in points hidden by our bed frame.

More rope came out, and my legs were pushed down and apart, tied to the edges of the bed. That was my first clue. I wasn’t being allowed to move at all.

And then I saw a cord out of the corner of my eye.

“Oh god,” I moaned, getting a fuller picture of his intent.

He grabbed even more rope. I repeated my statement, adding, “that’s so overwhelming,” as he began making a harness between my legs to hold the wand in place.

I love and hate being overwhelmed. Sensations really flourish to too much, and I’ve never been so close to safe-wording as I do when I feel too much pleasure. Hate how weak I feel in that moment.

“Shut up,” he said when he finished. He turned it on, and I yelped as the buzzing vibrations stimulated my clit to full awareness. He kneeled beside my head. “I’ll give you something to make you quiet,” he said as he turned my head and shoved his cock into my mouth. Before my mouth was even full, he informed me: “that thing doesn’t come off until you cum.”

What the hell?! He knew I normally won’t orgasm until I’ve had it through vaginal penetration first.

I tried to breathe as he pushed himself into my mouth, slid out, pushed back and further a little each time. But how could I breathe when my body was tensing, becoming overly sensitive to a pinpointed area between my legs?

I choked a few times. I clenched and tightened, begging my body to silently orgasm, to have him turn the damn thing off. I groaned against his cock. I tried to squirm, to adjust my legs slightly to relieve some of the vibrations. No avail.

Forget trying to calm my mind and just go with it.

After a time he was kind enough to reach over and start pinching my nipples. Extra sensation may actually help my end goal.

Finally, finally I tensed enough and my poor, overwhelmed body took pity on me and climaxed.

How does he know, with a mouthful of himself and too tied up to give physical clues, when I orgasm is beyond me. But he did, thankfully, pulled out of my mouth, reached down and turned it off.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, laid beside me and stroked my hair back, soft caresses following soothed my overworked body.

“Yes, just glad it’s over,” I was impatient for him to remove the wand, knew better than to say something.

“Good. Again,” and with that he turned the damned thing back on.

“N—,” my mouth was filled again before I could complete my disagreement. My wrists jerked against the binding.

What the hell?! I did exactly what he said. Again!?

“At least you’ll cum quicker,” he reassured, slid in and out of my mouth, occasionally pushed back to where breathing became a challenge and held himself there.

Small comfort, I thought, even if the orgasm took no time at all, the wand made my body beyond-sensitive-to-be-comfortable.

And while he did it turn it off after the second time, he started it up again for a third. This time he didn’t keep me quiet, he positioned himself between my bound legs and moved the vibrations to my entrance.

It was up to me to keep myself quiet, to control my screams, as my body orgasmed. The whole time I strained to yank my arms down and kick out with my legs. My body was so rigid, so wanting some release from all the sensations.

When the wand was shut off, after I shuddered mindlessly, he felt my hands; his own were so warm.

He moved to untie me, concerned how cold they were.

“It’s only because I was fighting, the tie is good,” I reassured him. My arms already ached with such an effort to escape the pleasure being forced on me.

“We’re done with the ties,” he insisted, still untying. “You’re going to like the marks,” he claimed when he began freeing my legs and the wand.

And after amazing sex and cuddles, when I inspected the imprints left from the rope, he was right: I loved them. And him.

Wicked Wednesday

Sep 292014

“Tell ya what, Bitch. I’m going to give you a break, tonight. We’re only going to play with purple items.”20140806-142908-52148867.jpg

“Oh, how creative! Okay,” Bitch walked in and saw the lingerie and blindfold, both purple items, laying on the bed. She giggled a bit, and stripped out her  clothes, slid into the silk, softly slid the blindfold over her eyes.

His strong arms moved her to the side of the bed, and tied her to post. She saw the pile of purple rope. Of course it wouldn’t be a session without a bit of rope, she was a squirmy Bitch.20140806-142908-52148560.jpg

His hands softly ran up and down her form several times before some light patting a warm up flogging on her back and ass. It wasn’t long before her skin felt warm, and then hot as the supple leather struck across her skin with more force, calming her mind with the rhythmic movements.


He fingered her to an orgasm, and then inserted their strap on dildo. “Don’t let it fall out, focus on holding it in.”

20140806-142908-52148244.jpgShe protested. It was heavy, gravity was working against her, her mind didn’t want to focus. A warning growl from him and she stopped her whining and clenched as best she could, keeping her legs closer together to help. And was unable to zone with the continued flogging, but felt every sting that much more, focused on holding the heavy instrument inside of her and the leather strips falling on her skin.

She began whimpering softly when she felt the impact too much, when she felt that she would fail in the request to hold the toy into her.

“Be a love and help me lay you down,” he whispered as he gripped the toy and pulled it out; she felt hands untying and him guiding her to the bed. He laid her down on her stomach, fingered her to an orgasm, and then inserted a vibrator. She felt cold liquid at her anus and a plug slowly being inserted as well. “Keep your legs still so the vibrator doesn’t move,” he instructed, and then she felt the tiny stings of the misery stick. She hated that thing; she couldn’t adjust to the stings like she could another impact toy.20140806-142907-52147631.jpg

So much for taking it easy and getting it a break with only purple things. She realized she needed to stop requesting toys in her favorite color.

Soft silk slid easily up, and he eventually yanked the nightgown off of her when he reached her breasts. He removed the vibrator buzzing deliciously between her legs, teasing but not quite pleasing her tensing body.

“Bitch, roll over.”

She did. Her wrists were tied together above her head and her ankles were each tied to the opposite ends of the bed. Suddenly hot wax hit her thigh and she let out a yelp of surprise.

“Shh.” More wax, leaving a fiery trail up her thigh, her stomach, her breasts. She heard something on the nightstand, and then a buzzing, before a vibrating clamp was placed on a sensitive nipple. The hardened wax moved slightly, furthering the sensation. The next nipple was treated to a clamp.

20140806-142907-52147939.jpgShe took a deep breath, listened to the buzzing sound from the dual clamps, and braced herself for more wax.

When if felt like every part of her torso and thighs had been licked from a flame, she heard the glass holder on the nightstand. He praised her great behavior as he swept the wax softly from her skin, occasionally his tongue would dip and taste her neck, her mouth, replace the clamps as they were removed, her sopping wet nectar between her legs.

And when he was done cleaning her, tasting her, he impaled himself on her fully. Her body was so ready to receive him by that point that it offered no resistance. She screamed with pleasure.

It was good to be Bitch.

20140806-142907-52147258.jpg *We had just received another purple toy, and I was thinking about how many I have in some sort of purple color. And how many more I still want. If my lover just used purple, it really wouldn’t be doing me any favors. I thought how that scene would look. And then the story, and having way too much fun taking photos, occurred. 

Want to see any pics larger? Just click on them.

 Posted by at 12:21 pm
Sep 262014

Flash Fiction Friday

Key Phrase: “Third Wheel”
Word Limit: 369
Forbidden Words: Lesbian, hooker, prostitute, money, executive
Extra Words: Explain the hand on his shoulder – 25 extra
Bonus Points: Sex for one is nice, sex for two is better, but what a threesome or moresome? Does it get better with more or do you hit diminishing returns? Tell us in reality or theory.

Found at JerseyGirl1316


Miguel looked over at his partner, and for a second they made eye contact. Maria’s tongue lapped at the other woman’s clit, and he felt turned on by his partner’s actions. He had no idea her tongue was that long. Her eyes went back to the woman’s body that she was kissing, but not before he saw the two fingers she presented, before making the gesture seem to be for the woman’s body. She fingered the woman and her tongue kept flicking back and forth on her clit.

This had to be the sexiest assignment he had ever been on. Why didn’t they get more like this? And two…if that’s how many guards there were, this was going to be less risky than he thought. Hector was across the street with a sniper rifle, jokingly referred to as the third wheel, and Miguel thought if they could get a guard in front of the window that would only leave one, and they still had the element of surprise.

A hand touched his shoulder and rubbed its way down his arm. “You like watching wife?” a sultry voice asked before the woman came in front of him, sitting naked on his lap in the chair. He pulled his eyes away from his partner and focused on the beauty in front of him. She rubbed her breasts against his chest, and then leaned back and rubbed her hands into the opening of his shirt. “This needs to come off,” she stated in her halting English, parting his suit jacket.

He shifted a certain way, to appear to help her but readjusted his jacket so that certain items didn’t fall out.  “I love watching my wife,” he looked over at Maria and winked, Maria gazed at him, knew the signal. The woman Maria was fingering began to moan.  “Now, how about,” he leaned over and kissed the woman’s neck, “we get this a bit more exciting. Do you have the drugs we’ve heard so much about? Let’s make this a real party.”

The woman in his lap giggled. She called out for the guards to bring her something. Miguel grabbed her wrists in one hand and yanked them up after her order. She smiled, seemingly delighted with this new dominating gesture.

“So forceful,” she purred.

Miguel thought she had no idea, but she was about to.


We’ve not had all that much luck with a threesome or moresome. It seems at least one person feels a little left out-and while this doesn’t mean the entire time (some moments are just hot for everyone), it happens eventually. And it’s the negative impressions that stick when you recall them, sadly.


 Posted by at 7:00 am
Sep 232014

Marriage – that tongue better go in more places than just my ear.

tmi dog-wedding

1. Do you believe in marriage?
I had better considering I’m married. Although just yesterday my husband mentioned divorce as we were taking a shower. He didn’t mean it in the traditional sense, more of a business separation proposition, and said that if we did I had better marry him again immediately afterwards. Yeah, I guess I have an unusual definition of the word. And he’s right to be concerned that I would marry him again – it’s still a scary concept to me.

2. Have you ever proposed marriage or been proposed to marry? What happened?

I’ve never proposed to anyone. Sadly, while marriage scares me, I’ve been proposed to by at least five separate people in my life. Why does everyone think marriage is the end goal? 

I’ve had everything from a ring thrown at me with an “I know your answer” (he didn’t), to my husband’s getting on one knee, in the dark of night by the cliffs overlooking the ocean, and asking with a shiny ring in a box that had a light in it that we later used as a flashlight. Ah, that was nice. I could hear the waves crash far below us. Looking back on it, it would have been an amazing moment to push him over the cliffs. No one was around and it was dark, it would have been painless for him, and he wouldn’t have expected it so I could have succeeded. And he was unbalanced on a knee. Just my luck, he would have thrown me over the cliff instead.

(Just kidding, love! I know you wouldn’t have let me fall over! I love you for that.)
3. What would be your dream way of proposing marriage?

Disney World where actors and actress would sing and dance around us in a surprise proposal routine, with Mickey and Minnie and all the princes and princesses joining in as well. Yes! This would be perfect!
4. What would be your nightmarish way of proposing marriage?

Shotgun wedding? Proposing while drowning doesn’t sound pleasant either, but at least we’d die before having to plan the wedding. Seriously, why don’t more people elope?

5. Mainstream society has engagement rings; in your opinion, what token should be given to signify engagement?

A promise of having sex with me two times a day, every day, with the exception of one get-out-of-jail-free-card to use once a week, because you know…we all have an off day every so often. Oh wait…that’s what really happened. It was on my list of demands before agreeing to marry him. (Not kidding.)

A list of demands agreed to, should signify an engagement. But rings are pretty too.

6. Would you like to participate in an “open” marriage vs. a traditional monogamous marriage? Have you ever given it serious thought? Why or Why not?

An open marriage has been a topic of ours for the past two years. Though we would most likely participate in polyamory, because I need my partners to get a STD test, and have it be more valid by only having trusted partners. My husband is far more traditional than I am. And we have the whole controlling, jealousy issues that would have to be addressed in order for it to be successful – I actually see any attempt on our part to a spectacular flop.  

Still, there are days when I see a shiny new toy that I want to play with, or a past partner that I want to top me, that the thought has serious merit. 

Bonus: Tell us about someone you would have proposed to but never had the chance/opportunity.

Marriage proposal? None. 

Indecent proposal? Oh where do I start? Actually, I think I’ve proposed the idea to everyone I’ve wanted to, but they may have interpreted me as joking (damn my cute factor where I am not taken seriously because of my short stature and bold words!). I do tend to say what I think, much to my detriment at times.


How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link totmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

 Posted by at 9:19 am
Sep 222014

I’ve been asked to do a public scene with my boy. There aren’t a lot of female tops in these parts and there also aren’t a lot of male subs willing to brave the fem in public. I’ve tried to think of things and finally it is coming together, thanks to a dream I had.


I don’t do the latex dominatrix. I’m a very classy lady, and I don’t deviate. Think pinup, pearls, lace.


I call him my pretty little princess. He starts to open his mouth to object and I tell him to kneel. Stilettos, silk stockings, lace garter. His hands skim past all of these as he follows my instructions to remove my panties. Silk and lace slide down my legs and I take my panties from his hands and tilt his head back. I kiss him and tell him he’s my good princess again, right before I shove my panties in his mouth.


I remove his shirt and and pat his ass as he stands up to be bound in the leather cuffs attached to the winch. As his arms are raised above his head I go work on removing the last vestiges of masculinity from him. Now he stands before the crowd, bare except my panties still working as gag. I reach into the bag and grab the frilly pink panties I’ve got for him. He can’t hide his pleasure as he rises in excitement. It’s just as obvious as his embarrassment that is staining his cheeks a rosy red.


I dress him as my little princess, encase his feet in dainty heels. He’s aroused, humiliated, and straining to figure out my next move. I pull the hair brush from my bag and his body instinctively twitches away from me. I give a husky laugh as I know what he’s thinking. The paddle, crop, whip and flogger that follow make his eyes grow wide and the dainty panties fail to camouflage just how incredibly aroused this makes him.


I warm him up with light flogging. I want his back to match his cheeks. I call him my prissy little princess and he moans into my panties as I deliver the first stinging blow to his buttocks. By the time I release his wrists, his ass is glowing and he’s whimpering for more.


I bend him over my knees and coo in his ear just as my arm brings the brush crashing into his inner thigh for a stinging blow. The whimpers increase and I have to remind him to keep his legs spread. He doesn’t want what he’ll get for disobedience at this moment in time. I continue to lovingly torture my boy until he’s unable to remain still. That’s when I decide it’s time to play one of my favorite games. I call it “insult to injury”. There’s just not quite enough color in his backside so I decide it’s time to decorate. He skin is glowing and changing color. The blood has more than risen. It’s time to wax.


Whereas moment’s before my boy was wilted over the bench, his whole body seems to perk up as he hears the lighter flick. He’s suddenly hyper aware of what is coming next and begins to squirm. He knows my honeyed tones belie the sensations that are coming. I have no mercy. I pull the panties further down so as not to ruin them as the first drops of wax hit his already abused posterior. I tell him to look at his audience. To make eye contact, see how much they revel in his torture, his helplessness. He moans further and drifts away into the joyous abyss of sub space.


When finally I am finished, his sleepy eyed smile and kiss are all I need to know I have done good by my boy. He nestles into me in thanks and cuddles me as he knows I will take care of him and provide for him. This is my beautiful reward at the end, and although the dungeon is still full of people, I know he and I are all he sees right now.

Sep 192014

Flash Fiction Friday

Key Phrase:  Bad Idea
Word Limit:  2000 Characters, including Spaces
Forbidden Words: Naked, Shower
Bonus Words:  Tell us about a bad idea of your own.
Extra Credit:  Come up with a new bad idea…..

She thought it was bad idea. Of course, it was already too late to say that. And the idea had been hers to begin with.

But it was just a fantasy.

Okay, he made it a reality. They were in the pool swimming with their mutual friend, when he announced oh-so-casually that Mike was having sex with her.

“Wait-what?” She almost forgot to stop treading water until the water covered her mouth and reminded her she was, in fact, in danger of drowning.

“You wanted to be given away, Mikey wants you. Seems like the  perfect arrangement. So with that, I’m leaving.” He proceeded to climb out of the pool, grabbed his towel, and headed inside. But not without shouting over his shoulder, “no glove, no love.”

She watched him go. Still in the deep end, chin deep in water, abandoned with that statement, her eyes darted to Mike. He was sitting on the steps, his trunks barely covered in water, his broad chest exposed, arms casually on his knees leaning forward, his adorably curly dark hair still dripping wet. He gave a lopsided smile, kept her gaze.

She felt like a sitting duck. And like ducks do, she hoped she looked calm on the surface, because underneath she all chaos to stay on top of things. She felt pounding in her ears and sucked in a nervous breath.

A nervous, anxious wreck, and yet, and yet, her pussy clenched in excitement.

She smiled, hoped it looked passable and sexy, felt like she grimaced in her attempt. What should she do? Should she take off her swimsuit in the water, throw it out in a sexy spray of water and challenge him to join her? Oh god, what she got tangled in the water and drowned? Besides, she hated sex in the pool. It didn’t allow her natural juices to really lubricate with the pool water getting in the way. Her heart beat so hard she was sure she was going to have a stroke…wait, stroke…swim. Deep breath, she decided to swim towards him. Surely by the time she reached him, she would have a plan.

What the hell was she thinking by confessing this desire? What the hell was her idiotic boyfriend thinking in giving it to her?

Mike stood up right when her feet hit the bottom of the shallow end. God, he was hot. God, she loved her boyfriend for this incredibly hot present. She just hoped she had the guts to open it. He was so shiny and new.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice so calm and cool. Tall, dark, and handsome, and offering his hand. She walked towards him, keeping her eyes on his hand instead of his stiffened penis so obvious even through his trunks. Yum.

Her hand took his, and she was thankful she was soaking wet, as her trembling hand would definitely be sweating as well. Shit, hopefully he didn’t notice her trembling. She was so excited, she was so nervous.

He gently pulled her towards the bathroom that led into the guest room, that then led into the rest of the house, where her boyfriend was. Oh god, he was really going to let her sex with Mike! She gave him a silent high-five and cursed him all the same time. How could he do this with no warning?

She watched the ground, sure she was going to trip, thankful her feet instinctively moved. She felt a towel go around her shoulders, looked up at Mike…gorgeous dark eyes almost black to match his hair, stumble around his face…mumbled, “thank you.” His hands wrapped the towel around her shoulders, hands stayed there, moving the fabric to her upper arms, lower arms, god she wanted the towel/his hands all over her. Before she lost her nerve, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, lips pressed too hard against his before she eased up from excitement and his tongue was in her mouth, kissing her. Kissing her!

Oh god, she was kissing Mike. He was the hottest friend they had, and she was making out with him. Her hands couldn’t get enough, and she fumbled at his shoulders, down his muscular arms, back up to the back of his head, around his back. One arm went around her and pulled her tight to his body and she felt his desire, hard against her lower belly. His other arm reached past her and opened the door and she backed slowly into it, holding the towel around her waist carefully. As they broke apart when she tripped over the threshold, he closed the door and she wrapped the towel around her waist.

Wait?! Why did she do that? God, she was such an idiot. She wasn’t trying to be modest, she was trying to have sex with Mike.

Her back to him, berating herself silently, she felt his hands at the band of her bikini top, undoing the clasp. Before she could tear the towel off of her, he spun her around and picked her up, placed her on the sink in the tiny enclosed space. He leaned into kiss her again, and her hair felt deliciously cool against her hardening nipples. She placed her hands on the sink for balance and let his delicious kisses consume her again.

Fuck this was hot. Fuck she loved her boyfriend.

…And she was about to fuck Mike!


Okay, almost double the character allowance, but with extra credit and bonus, I deserve it. 

A bad idea of my own was very similar to this. I went to a relative’s pool with a new lover once on a hot summer day, and we had sex in the pool and guest room more times than I can count. Anyone could’ve come in-all the family was regularly there during summer, and my relative could’ve come home. Yet, he was so hot, so shiny and new, and lust took over my common sense. Mmm, pool sex, how I love and hate it. 

The new bad idea is partly why this story ran so long-I have a fantasy to be “given away”. Granted, it better not be in a fucking pool, that would be awkward. But I really want to be an object for a short period of time. And I don’t want to know in advance, because I would back out of it once my brain was done with me. And that would be a shame. 


 Posted by at 7:06 am
Sep 182014

*Not intended to offend any deeply religious people. 

I looked up at the enormous cross that went from floor to cathedral ceiling on the wall of the church and shivered. Jesus hanged there with nails through the wrists and ankles, the thorns on his head, tattered clothing modestly hung around his waist, limply with eyes closed and blood dripping from his wounds. He was gigantic.

I shuddered again. Jesus terrified me. He always had.

I left my seat from the front pew, a seat that was familiar to me, and walked out.

No question, I still felt the same way. It had been close to twenty years since I had been in the church, and nothing had changed. The same church that I was in at least five days out of the week, the one that was attached to the Catholic School I attended. Sometimes my lack of knowledge of sexual slang shocks people (even myself), but I think people primarily learn it in whispers at school, just not my school.

Yep, I attended Catholic School.

It’s amazing how that sentence gets an arched brow, a knowing look, a wink and nudge; maybe it’s cliché; I personally hate the stereotype. I think it’s as annoying as hell.

And I attended it for thirteen years. It was a big part of my growing, shaping, and molding me as a person. I had aspirations to be a nun.

I am not deeply religious, and I certainly don’t follow the Catholic religion anymore. That being said, I can’t work against it, either. It makes me slightly nauseous. I’m not rebellious against it, don’t want to twist it, don’t know if I (personally) could.

No nuns giving blow jobs, or priests having sex.

No church sexual acts.

No choking by rosary.

Oh hell no!

And I did wear the school uniform, for thirteen years. Every Monday-Friday I put on the thin see-through white button down collared shirt, the itchy plaid skirt (even wearing it during physical education classes). I would walk into my classroom and kneel, not for prayer, but to make sure that my skirt was long enough. I dealt with the no-nonsense nuns; the priests – my favorite being on the from South America whose English wasn’t good but could play a guitar and had a gentle nature. I sang hymns in church most of the school day on Fridays. My History and English education was mostly Bible Studies.

This is one kink that I just can’t get into. I don’t understand it; I couldn’t do it. It goes against my upbringing. I never once attended school (before college) thinking sexy thoughts about someone in the classroom. I still can’t go into a classroom and think sex.

But I still fully support others who find this a turn on, who get off on it. And I can’t wait to read the whys. Understanding and respecting other people’s healthy kinks is important to me.

The closest I can come to this kink is finding it hot to see someone wear a work uniform, like military, firefighters, law enforcement.

So follow the badge to read about those who do explain this kink.

 Posted by at 7:00 am