What. The. Fuck. (Viewpoint Two)

Inspired by one of those crazy search terms…”alien rape, creature sucking tits”…thanks anonymous surfer! This ones for you.  Less Dragons than the first one! ~nilla~

:I have initiated third harvest sequence. Earth-femme is asleep as this side of the planet is now in dark mode. My arrival upon her makes her stir, as always, but she will settle in a moment.:

:YOU’D BEST NOT FUCK THIS UP- YOUR ASS IS ON THE LINE AFTER YOUR LAST SCREW UP:

:I did not intend to leave eggs behind. And that was eons ago. Earthlings have accepted Tentacles as part of their water world. No harm, no foul. Now let me do my fucking job! Get it? Fucking…job?:

:STOP BEING AN IDIOT AND GET ON WITH IT. WE NEED TO FINISH THIS–THE REST OF THE TEAM IS DONE AND WAITING ON YOU!:

:working, for Jupiter’s sake. It’s not like it just happens. I need to feel it:

:YOU’LL FEEL IT IF YOU SCREW THIS UP:

She woke in the night. Completely disoriented, she patted the nightstand for her phone.

2:13

Why the fuck was she awake at two-fucking-thirteen in the a. fucking m. anyway? She felt something under the blanket.

: Come, Female–I’m gonna make you feel good. don’t fight it, just lay there will you? Just a minute more and you’ll be all nice and juicy and ready for me:

:”GONNA”…”JUICY”..? WHERE HAVE YOUR LANGUAGE SKILLS GONE? FRANKLY, I’M APPALLED:

:speaking in the vernacular. She’s putting up a bit of a struggle tonight:

:OF COURSE SHE IS, LAST NIGHT OF THE HARVEST, OF COURSE. (huge sigh audible through space static) WHY THE FUCK CAN’T ANY OF THIS GO SMOOTHLY? I’M WARNING YOU, DON’T FUCK THIS UP! I’M NOT KIDDING, CARSON. GET WITH THE PROGRAM, FINISH YOUR WORK, AND GET YOUR FLOPPY CARCASS BACK UP HERE. PRONTO!:

A hard breath wheezed from her lips at a sudden, very distinct, sucking against her right tit.

What. The. Fuck.

She said it aloud, pressing down her body as she spoke. Her voice didn’t sound strong, but panicked. Her fingers touched a rubbery mass, and flicked away in fear.

Something was on her–AND IT WAS SUCKING HER TIT.  Her legs kicked, and she tried gingerly plucking at whatever the goop was. It didn’t move, but it did hold her fingers. Stuck, she wriggled harder, until she felt the ooze arrowing faster now, down her body.

A strange languor crept over her, coupled with an evergrowing urge for sex.

:That’s a good girl. Let me in, let me in…:

It oozed upward, sliding up over her mouth, blocking her whimpers, absorbing them.

:swallow…SWALLOW…there you go…now you’ll feel a bit –how should I say it? Horny? To use your earthling terminology…? Yes. I feel you opening to me, little flower…-:

:SERIOUSLY….COULD YOU JUST GET ON WITH IT? YOU’RE NOT COURTING THE BAG OF FLESH. YOU’RE HARVESTING HER EGGS. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO INJECT HER WITH YOUR PUKA PEARLS, SUCK IT UP AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE:

:I SERIOUSLY HOPE I HEAR YOU FUCKING SOON:

There was a hot wet trickle slicking down, her body swallowing without thought.

Heat bloomed and her nipples and clit swelled. The ooze backed from her mouth and nose; drawing a deep breath, she panted as her pussy swelled, then filled with the thick weight of the creature possessing her. It grew bigger, bigger. Tears gathered, falling in silent streams down the sides of her face as it stretched her cunt wider than she had ever felt. Her clit was swollen, feeling like it would burst with sex need.

It fucked her.

:am…(static)…engage(static)d…..very…ho.(static, static)..t   best…night…..ever….ohhhfuuuuukkkk..(not static).:

:WHY CAN’T I EVER GET TO DO THIS PART:

:SHUT UP, BOB. YOUR TURN WILL CUM…:

:HAHA. GEE THAT WAS A FUCKING RIOT:

:Can I get some fucking peace down here?  I’m trying to concentrate. I can HEAR you…and you know…i’m BUSY here. Working.   Am preparing..(static)…anal…(static) ohmyyymymmmyyyy…entry..(deep resounding sigh).:

:HE’S ENJOYING THIS. HE’S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ENJOYING IT THAT MUCH. IT’S WORK, DAMMIT! BESIDES, IT’S MY TURN. IT SHOULD BE *MY* TURN:

:SHUT THE FUCK UP BOB! I’M TRYING TO GET THE READINGS HERE..FUCKING STATIC. THIS TOTALLY SUCKS:

She didn’t think she could take any more, but the growing, oozing creature continued to explore her body, finding the tight pucker of her anus and thinning itself, arrowed right into it. Once inside, it too grew, stretching the clenched muscle, forcing it open. The goo expanded, filling her rectum, fucking fast and hard, just as the invader of her cunt was.

:breasts have swollen, nipples tender succulent hard—squeezing…..AH! milk extraction and absorption commencing. Female cunt is very juicy tonight. Some of my preparations from my prior two encounters may linger in her system…make a note…unghhh…aaahhh…of that….willl…ooohhhh…you?:

Her tits were milked. She felt them swelling, her nipples aching with an unfamiliar feeling. She felt full, like her entire body would burst, despite the near constant squirting of her pussy juice. Back arching, she felt light, a tight-strung bow with an arrow set to fly. Her invader squeezed her tits hard, the sucking wild and intense, until it felt her nipples would rip from her body. Instead, jets of hot fluid gushed from them. Her moan was a steady sound as the creature sucked her dry.

She screamed, a shocked cry of pain, quickly silenced by the ooze slipping up over her mouth. She tasted blood, that quic:k stab of copper as her lip split.

:accidentally wounded oral liner when silencing female. Permission to inject healant requested:

:AURAL? HOW DID YOU- :

:No! Or(static)

:WHAT?:

:what?:

(static)

:Oral! Not (static)! Just (static)! Bleeping (static) ORAL!:

:HE SAID AURAL, BOB, RIGHT?:

:CLUMSY:

:What? Could you just give me FU(static)NG permission?!?:

:SHUT UP BOB. FINE. PERMISSION GRANTED. BE MORE CAREFUL WITH THE MOTHER, WILL YOU? (static) HOW DO YOU WOUND AN AURAL LINER ANYWAY? (static) WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE? AND WHY IS THERE SO MUCH FUCKING STATIC? HOW CAN THEY EXPECT US TO HARVEST FEMALES WITH THIS SHITTY EQUIPMENT? ARE YOU ALMOST DONE DOWN THERE? (static)  THIS IS DEPLORABLE. WE REALLY NEED AN UPGRADE. SOONER RATHER THAN LATER, IF THEY EXPECT US TO CONTINUE MEETING QUOTA. (static) OUR ESCAPE WINDOW IS CLOSING QUICKLY–WE NEED TO MAINTAIN EARTHSHADOW TO KEEP THE FRIGGING ISS FROM SEEING US…DEPLORABLE. THIS CONN SUCKS. BOB! FOR JUPITER’S SAKE! STOP OOZING ON THE EQUIPMENT. JUST. STOP. (intense static burst):

Her tummy grew bigger, filled with the beast’s thick fluid. Her womb ached with it, her clit screamed at the increased stimulation of her body.

:Filling and harvesting commencing….:

:ABOUT FUCKING TIME:

:BOB! SHUT THE FUCK UP. I’VE HAD IT WITH YOU! GET OFF THE BRIDGE. FUCKING PLUTO, THERE’S OOZE-CRUD EVERYFUCKINGWHERE. CLEAN THIS UP. SERIOUSLY BOB, SHOW A LITTLE DIGNITY MAN. GET OFF MY FUCKING BRIDGE!:

:GRUMBLE. (SOUNDS OF SCUFFLING, LAUGHTER, A SHARP CRACKLE FOLLOWED BY A YELP, THEN A THUD):

:POUR HIM BACK INTO HIS BERTH WILL YOU? FUCKING KIDS. THEY DON’T TEACH THEM ANYTHING USEFUL AT THE ACADEMY THESE DAYS. ALL ABOUT THE HARVEST. FORGET ABOUT PROTOCOLS, DRIVE STANDARDS–:

:Can I get some (STATIC)  fucking peace down here, please? (sounds of loud liquid slurping)ATTEMPTING TO (static) GET SOME WORK DONE HERE, YOU KNOW?:

For a moment, she was sure her body would really explode. The orgasm came with a rush of fluid, eagerly sucked up by the ooze. So intense, so painfully wicked, she fainted.

:Mission completed, harvest done. Ready to return to (STATIC) Mothership:

: (thinks quietly to self…farewell my lovely…truly you were a memorable fuck.) A single tendril of muck rises, strokes the sleeping face. It swells, then begins to coalesce into a single round sphere, shrinking tighter and tighter, until it glows and rises from the sleeping female figure. Bruises and marks healed at a touch, no memory remains of the encounter with the creature…or so it thinks.) :

The light flicks through the window glass as if it were water, then darts up and up, through the dark sky, to the ship waiting above.

The cop looks up from his cruiser, openmouthed. Third frigging shooting star he’d seen this week. Fucking A awesome. His kid will get a big kick out of that! What a lucky shit he was!

~fini~

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

What. The. Fuck. (Viewpoint One)

Inspired by one of those crazy search terms…”alien rape, creature sucking tits”…thanks anonymous surfer! This ones for you.  Dragons ahead! ~nilla~

She woke in the night. Completely disoriented, she patted the nightstand for her phone.

2:13

Blinking, she looked again. Why the fuck was she awake at two-fucking-thirteen in the a. fucking m. anyway? She felt something under the blanket. She kicked at it, but the feeling of weight was still there. Wriggling, she attempted to sit, but found she couldn’t rise. She reached for her phone but her fingers never quite made it, scrabbling madly for it as it pushed away, just out of reach. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

A hard breath wheezed from her lips at a sudden, very distinct, sucking against her right tit.

What. The. Fuck.

She said it aloud, pressing down her body as she spoke. Her voice didn’t sound strong, but panicked. Her fingers touched a rubbery mass, and flicked away in fear.

Something was on her. 

Worse? Something was very definitely slurping on her tit. Maybe. Maybe she wasn’t really awake. Maybe it was some auto-erotic dream sequence. So desperate for a fuck that she was imagining fucking aliens.

The literal kind.

Something oozed across her body, enveloping her other tit, tingling against her nipple. She cursed her habit of sleeping nude. Her legs kicked, and she tried gingerly plucking at whatever the goop was. It didn’t move, but it did hold her fingers. Stuck, she wriggled harder, until she felt the ooze arrowing faster now, down her body.

“No! No…ohgawdnonono….”

It only took seconds for the ooze to reach her pussy, to press its way into the tight slit there and thicken. Her lips were coated in it, sucked and squeezed and tingled by it. A strange languor crept over her, coupled with an evergrowing urge for sex.

Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me.

Had she spoken aloud? Was it in her mind?

OHGAWDFUCKME.

It oozed upward, sliding up over her mouth, blocking her whimpers, absorbing them. Her nostrils were full of it, scentless but thick, the urge to sneeze passed as it filled her. How could she breathe? Shaking her head she tried to move it, coughing as it oozed into her throat from mouth and sinuses. There was a hot wet trickle slicking down, her body swallowing without thought.

Heat bloomed and her nipples and clit swelled. The ooze backed from her mouth and nose; drawing a deep breath, she panted as her pussy swelled, then filled with the thick weight of the creature possessing her. It grew bigger, bigger. Tears gathered, falling in silent streams down the sides of her face as it stretched her cunt wider than she had ever felt. Her clit was swollen, feeling like it would burst with sex need.

It fucked her. How could move like that, pistoning fast and hard and so fucking deeply? Her body quivered with the force of it. She’d never been taken so roughly, yet wanted more, still more. Her orgasms came without warning, a flood of liquid that only encouraged the sadistic rape.

She didn’t think she could take any more, but the growing, oozing creature continued to explore her body, finding the tight pucker of her anus and thinning itself, arrowed right into it. Once inside, it too grew, stretching the clenched muscle, forcing it open. The goo expanded, filling her rectum, fucking fast and hard, just as the invader of her cunt was.

Her tits were milked. She felt them swelling, her nipples aching with an unfamiliar feeling. She felt full, like her entire body would burst, despite the near constant squirting of her pussy juice. Back arching, she felt light, a tight-strung bow with an arrow set to fly. Her invader squeezed her tits hard, the sucking wild and intense, until it felt her nipples would rip from her body. Instead, jets of hot fluid gushed from them. Her moan was a steady sound as the creature sucked her dry.  Her cunt throbbed, rubbed raw despite the streams of cum. Her ass ached, stretched wider than she would have believed possible. She felt as though she had been fucked by baseball bats. The limb in her cunt grew thicker, longer, piercing her cervix. She screamed, a shocked cry of pain, quickly silenced by the ooze slipping up over her mouth. She tasted blood, that quick stab of copper as her lip split.

It was going to rip her apart.

There was heat. Wet, thick heat in her belly. She felt it fill her, belly expanding. The pounding of her cunt ceased, though the organ in her asshole continued plunging. Shivering as another orgasm slapped through her abused pussy, she whimpered through the gag it had oozed over her.

Her tummy grew bigger, filled with the beast’s thick fluid. Her womb ached with it, her clit screamed at the increased stimulation of her body. For a moment, she was sure her body would really explode. Arched, filled, every cell of  her body charged and throbbing with some indefinable thing that was happening to her, her cunt spasmed hard one last time. The orgasm came with a rush of fluid, eagerly sucked up by the ooze. So intense, so painfully wicked, she fainted.

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

She woke in the night. Completely disoriented, she patted the nightstand for her phone.

3:13

What the fuck was up with this waking up in the middle of the night shit, anyway? Third time this week, dammitall. With a huff of breath, she pounded her pillow and flipped to her side. Arm tucked up under her chin, she fell back asleep.

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

:last harvest completed. Heading home to Mothership:

A small bright light flashed against the night sky. The metro cop blinked, then smiled. He’d be able to tell his kid that he’d seen another shooting star–third one this week.

~fini~

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 6 Comments

HNT ~ Too Chilly To Bare

A shot of cool air has once again arrived in the Northeast–enough to inspire me to light up the woodstove, even, and NOT totally bare my tits today. Brrrrr…bring back Spring!

HNT

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

No Safe Zone

This week I’ve been flooded with memories of my last playtime with Him in January. It at once seems like yesterday, and ages ago. After I wrote out my thoughts on why BDSM is so attractive to me, I went to bed. I got snuggly under the covers when it came to me, unbidden. It was then that I remembered one of the most intimately erotic parts of our playtime.

You see, He always gives me time to dress. We play a bit, Him pinching or tickling or kissing or spanking me–whatever unfolds just happens. There is no plan, no agenda, it’s what He wants to do any and all times.

This time, I wanted to make sure we had tons of time to play, so while He was putting His bags down, I scurried into the bathroom to prepare. I had my shirt off and was just getting ready to drop trou when the door flies open and He’s there, filling the small space. He’s not a huge man, but His presence is just overwhelming. Before I can say anything, move a muscle, He’s on me.

dear gods, just starting to write the memory and my pussy is throbbing

There’s a full length mirror on the wall. Suddenly, I’m mashed against it, my face looking right at my own stunned reflection there. My eyes are full of shock. Then I look over my head to see His reflection, watching me. His hands are full of my flesh…He is pinching me so hard, and my eyes close and I’m yelping and hurting and turned on and embarrassed.

When I open my eyes again, I see Him watching me, watching Him. The intimacy of this moment is etched forever on my brain. He’s reading me, soaking Himself in the immediacy of my hurting. He looks at me looking at His hands on me, those big and strong hands, grabbing my tits, pinching my nipples, twisting them hard, then sliding up to pinch the flesh on the underside of my arm. It hurts, a burning agony that makes me rise to my toes and try to get away.

There is no “away” when one is smushed against the wall, no “away” from the emotions and pain and bliss when one must confront oneself in the mirror while being tormented.

“B-b-ut…” I gasp as I look into His smiling face.

His head cocks to the side, silently asking the question.

“The b-b-bathroom….” I gasp as He pinches at my hip, then slides His hand into my jeans. He’s rubbing at my clit and I think I will die from the pleasure, even as His other hand continues to maul my flesh.

“….is my safe zone…” It comes out in a rush, quickly followed up by small mews of pain as that hand slides out of my pants, and returns to torturing me. He laughs into the back of my neck, His breath hot.

I’m on fire with pain now, my arms, hips, sides, tits all throbbing and burning from the wickedness of His grasp. When I try to get an arm free, He grabs it, pulling it over my head and behind me, holding me tightly. His hands are living vises. I’ll admit I’m not the strongest gal in the world, but my gawd! I look in the mirror, seeing His face, full of glee. I see my arm, bent awkwardly up over my head, my elbow pointed to the ceiling, while His hand grabs a chunk of flesh and pinches. There are already bruises blooming along the pale line of my arm, not tiny little ones, but ones bigger than a cell phone, small fireworks of color and pain exploded inside my flesh.

“Safe zone?” He says after containing me. “Safe zone?”

His tone is incredulous.

“Nilla, you know better. You’re in a room. Alone. With Me. There is no safe zone.”

I melt into a puddle of goo.

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

The Allure of BDSM

Working tonight, thinking about M, my family, my life…wondering for the billionth time why this lifestyle draws me, compels me so much. It’s more than just the lack of sex in my vanilla life. (And by “lack” I mean a decade plus of total non-sex with my spouse.)

And since I’m not having wild sexual encounters with M every few weeks–we’re lucky to have playtime 3 or 4 times a year at this point in time, due to my schedule mostly–so it’s not the sex that is the full draw here.

I read some blogs today, Kaya in case you haven’t visited there, and some others. And found myself all hot and bothered, just as I do any other time I go to those sites.

Why?

I don’t have the answer to that, really. I have some thoughts, but the initial attraction should have waned after 7 plus years, right? After I tried having “deviant sex” shouldn’t my questions, my longings have been answered? After being tied up and beaten and fucked until I thought I’d die of it…why didn’t that “cure” me?

Do I want to be ‘cured’?

No.

Nope.

I’m pretty happy with who I am overall, those fucking 10 pounds be damned! But this whole ‘sick fuck’ as I have self-labeled myself…it wasn’t something that I fret over, mind you. I was just curious is all.

And it’s even more than He’s controlling. It’s more than I do His bidding, because while that’s a small part of my vanilla life, His domination is way more during playtime than in trying to make me bend my impossible vanilla life to suit His desires.

And it isn’t His desire to do that.

So there I am at my mundane evening job, which I love, and the quiet and solace of being totally alone just was a balm to me tonight for whatever reason…and this thought pops into my head.

My life is sweet.

No, really. It’s filled with sweet children that I’m home with except for this evening gig of mine, virtually 24/7. My spouse though annoying at times, also sweet. I have a sweet house, sweet neighbors, sweet though simple lifestyle, and sweet simple pleasures.

It’s very sweet.

But as much as I like sweet–I’m also a fan of spicy. If I’m eating M*M’s…there’s got to be something to cut the sweet after a while.

That’s it.

IT!

The whole thing about BDSM is that it’s NOT sweet. It’s dirty. It’s dark. It can be shameful, and nasty and degrading, and painful, and sticky…the dark underside of vanilla sex. It’s candle wax on tender flesh, and ropes biting, and clamps gripping, and cocks slamming, and mouths drooling.

It’s NOT sweet. Not saccharine. Not tender.

Oh sure, there are tender moments–those of us who engage in the play also get those aftercare bits..the hugs, the caresses, the whispered “I love you”‘s…but those are tenderness to help remind us (on both sides of the slash) that we’re also caring humans, as well as being  capable of delivering great pain, or taking it (needing it, craving it).  We come back to one another with that gentle touch…a tear-stained cheek resting on a shoulder, a hard, strong hand cupping a breast, legs interlocked, lips caressing…to reaffirm that we’re not bad or evil or sick, not really.

We just have this side of us that needs the dark to balance the blinding whiteness of our lives. We need the pain to take away our stresses from living as “the perfect person” or need to give it for the same reason.

We’re not perfect people. We pretend to be, it’s sought from us, by family, by employers, hell, even by ourselves! But I think those of us who do this thing we do are more in touch with our “whole” selves…the dark and the light, the good and the not so good, the need to smooth everything out vs the need to roughen it all up.

We’re in balance because of this wicked thing we do, the thing that many in Polite Society would shame us for.

But fuck us! We’ve really got the right of this, don’t we?! I think so. We struggle (for those of us who blog, publicly struggle), we whimper, we whine, we pull our shit together and move forward. Always moving forward. We get good stuff we get bad stuff we get through it.

Because being open to the darkness in ourselves gives us more assurance than I think we often give ourselves credit for. An ability to speak even in vanilla life, with more thoughtful clarity than ever before. To be more cautious of our tones, the subtle messages we can send, because we dare not speak that way to our Tops, right? I know I’ve found myself holding back at times and reconsidering my words before I spoke them..an impulse I’d have never curbed 7 years ago.

So — being open, being nilla, being accepting of myself as a submissive, and letting the dark run wild?

Has really set me free.  And that, dear pervie peeps, is the allure of BDSM for this naughty, dark minded, horny, unapologetic slut.

Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Comments

Rainy Monday

Go grab a cuppa–tea for me, and whatever you prefer…I have a chat coming on. :D

M was away this weekend but for once I didn’t go into a state of total mourning over it. I had TONS of vanilla stuff to get done, and we did manage a bit of face time last week, so I was buoyed by that. And I’m still sporting bruises from that brief encounter.

I put on weight over the winter…not much, mostly regaining the 8 pounds I’d lost during December and January–once it snowed, all outdoor activity ended and we pretty much just huddled inside.

And yanno.

Ate.

Ate and ate and ate.

Last Sunday He grabbed my belly and growled in my ear that i might want to consider losing that–because He would absolutely focus on that area as a grab handle. I squealed and whimpered, pressing myself against His body as He leaned against His car. No one could see those fucking hard hands busily skimming my body and pinching me hard and fast, first here, then there, then a quick boob grab. He moved me past hurt and into “oh holy hell” territory, until I couldn’t even make noise (He LOVES when He does that to me)…just one   l  o  n  g   inhaled breath against His neck.

He reiterated that directive over the phone later last week, that I was making torturing me verrrry easy, with the newly plump roll around my middle…

I admit to feeling pretty lax about my weight until that happened…that threat, and the promise, and the bruises I wear around my middle like a sadistically formed belt. It’s both fear-factor and an intense turn on for me.

Yard work and outdoor time will do a lot to help tone that up and “lighten my load” a bit…but not in the short 4 or 5 weeks until playtime happens…so I’m nervous AND anticipating our next encounter.

The snow is finally gone from the yard–the last pile finally went poof this past Wednesday, though I have friends here in town closer to the hills that still have quite a bit of snow. You don’t have to go much further north to still find the white menace, either. And (caution, whine ahead)…I had to turn my heat back on today, as it is a raw and rainy Patriot’s Day here in Mass. I feel for all the folks running in the Boston Marathon–hella day to be out in the muck, to be sure. We need the rain, the gardens are sprouting furiously, the lawns are turning green and there is a hint that the trees are starting to unfurl those buds that have been held tight all winter long. It was nice to have nearly two weeks above 60, but this week is forecast to be cold, and maybe wet. Bad for outside work–but I will have more time here, so YOU all benefit from the bad weather.

I was reading someone’s blog about fantasies the other day, not sure where, about how we all have them (and lets admit it–some of ours are pretty dark and nasty). Which is, in itself, comforting, isn’t it? That it isn’t only me (or you) who is a sexual deviant, or sexually dysfunctional? And there were adjunct comments about how most of us don’t want any of them to come true. (Though there is still an element of real vs fantasy that is a turn on to me too. Do I really not want it? Do I maybe want it? Do I not want it? Am I turned on by that fear that maybe it could–yes. And no. And yes. And NO…!) And that made me think of the story I’m working on, where that lucky woman got to that dark and dastardly fantasy…and that made me wonder—if you all had a chance to live out one fantasy, what would it be?

Or what fantasies to you want to ONLY fantasize about and never have come to life?

I confess that I had a GINORMOUS orgasm last week to such a fantasy–so dark and dirty I never want it to happen but good gawd it made me so fucking hot that when I came, I soaked my “cum blanket” that I put under me so I don’t soil my bed. That was likely the biggest self-generated orgasm that I’ve ever had. I can share a picture (I was pretty fucking proud of myself…I usually only squirt that hard when M is fucking me!) if you’re curious. :D Because who wouldn’t document such a momentous thing, right? Or maybe that’s just me?

Himself has been teasing me about “Big Red” again…He says someday Big Red and my asshole will meet–intimately–and there won’t be any warning. The mood will strike Him to do it, and fuck me if I complain about it–because that’s the way it is.

And damned if that doesn’t make me wet when He says that (nothing like going to work with soaked panties, right?) And doesn’t it continue make me wet to write about it, even when proofreading it? I guess that means that I’m all juicy now, right. Right!!  Just remembering the tone of His voice, the raspy Pirate sound of it. The threat wrapped in a promise of “someday, slut”…and the idea of not knowing when it will happen, but that it will happen.

And I can sit here with my half-empty tea cup and tell you I’m not a fan of anal…which isn’t really a lie…but also get so fucking turned on when it happens that it makes it like a lie. Maybe the lie is in the disconnect between my ass, my cunt and my brain? Because the ass protests, my brain freaks out a bit..and my pussy convulses, yearning to be stuffed full, all the while coming almost constantly. I tell you, my wiring is so fucked up! But you knew that, if you’ve been reading all along. I’m just fucked up, and totally and completely okay with it.

So since I asked you about your fantasy, here is a brief look at mine…an offshoot of the Big Red words from Master; of being taken by someone I don’t know (circumstances go from pumping gas to flat tire on the highway to hiking in the woods) and brought to a rough shed outside somewhere, where one other guy is already waiting…and being fucked repeatedly by them, until they decide they’re done for the day (or weekend)…and they walk away, leaving me a cum-and-bruise-covered slut. That wasn’t the *full* fantasy that got me off so hard the other day…but it’s a part of it. :D There are so many variations of that theme…

Okay, my cuppa is drained, and I’ve got to get back to my vanilla life. Until later, pervie peeps! Don’t forget to share your fantasy (and feel free to email me if you don’t want it all over the page here. :D )

Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Twin Peaks…

Better late than never?

(sorry Master–I got busy doing outside work–!)

20150416_074150-1

Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Comments

Perverted Pleasures (4)

It hurt.

A steady throbbing rhythm — her heartbeat — beat in her asshole. She sat, a fat, black cock buried to the hilt in her cunt, while a new, bigger thing…Mr. Blue…filled her anus.

“Just working to stretch out that asshole. It will be filled with other things before the end of the day.”

His cock was bigger than the dildo in her ass. A shudder trembled through her when she realized he intended to fuck her in the ass. Before now the only thing she’d ever had in her ass was shit. Despite all the play times she’d had, anal had been on her “no” list. It was one of the advantages of not having a permanent Dom…there was no one who would be “pushing her limits”.  Kink without the commitment had been her rule of thumb. But here she had signed away all “no way’s” –there were only a few “hard limits” that were allowed by the House. No tattooing. No blood-play unless she was menstruating and then all bets were off. No breath-play. Everything else had been left as an option. She remembered going over all the boxes on the form, then reiterating them during her phone interview.

Despite the pain in her ass, or perhaps because of it, her excitement level grew. Her nipples were hard, still held in his fingers. Her clit was hard. Any movement would make her cum again.

“Master–I…”

“You must wait until I give you permission to speak.”

“Sorry. Yes Master.”

She waited but he did not speak again. His hands rose, lifting her tits, and she rose along with them, to avoid having her nipples ripped off. She shuddered as his thick shaft scraped along her pussy, touching and teasing all the areas that made her wild.

Eyes watched her like a hawk. His gaze was so intense that she couldn’t hold it any longer. His fingers dragged her down, and her trembling thighs lowered until he was fully seated. The tip of his cock pressed against her cervix, a mix of hurting and pleasure. He was serving her that dish repeatedly, the intensity of the pleasure growing with each dose of pain.

In the interview she’d been asked if she was a painslut.

“A little,” she’d responded.

Obviously that was way off, the logical part of her mind said, as his fingers twisted her nipples. Bending forward to relieve the pain, she moaned, which rubbed her clit against his hairy groin. Gods, the shocking stab of lust that engendered! Lost in the ecstasy, she came again.

“Tsk. What a naughty slut.”

Sir’s voice came from behind her, a vague noise amongst the roaring furnace of her orgasm.

“The cane?”

He spoke to Master. At the word ‘cane’, she tried to sit up, but Master’s fingers were still holding her nipples tightly. Sir’s hand at the back of her head pushed her even lower, until her head rested against Master’s chest. The blessed relief of freed nipples as his arms came around her, holding her tight, was quickly ameliorated by the intense pain of blood filling them.

“Oh! OH! It hurts worse…” 

Twin chuckles filled the room.

“She has much to learn,” spoke Sir.

There was a sound, a whooshing. She understood the sound the moment the cane connected with her exposed bottom. When she would have jolted and tried to rise, the arms around her tightened, holding her fast. The cock in her pussy grew even harder, stretching her. The ache of  Mr. Blue seemed to grow as each blow crossed her bottom.

“Twenty?”

“Oh, at the least,” came the rumbling reply from under her ear.

Twenty? How would she survive twenty of those when five had hurt so much? She moaned, croaked out a “please…Master…please” as the cane continued to lash along her curvy ass. Each wiggle drew more pleasure for her, yet more whimpers of hurt. The cane moved quickly, not giving her time to anticipate the next blow before it fell again. Left cheek, right cheek, both cheeks, he moved around her. Two fell on her lower back, two in the center, two across her shoulders, all carefully avoiding Master, but easily striking her.

When it was over, his shirt was soaked with tears, her hair plastered to her cheek with them. He stood suddenly, her body still impaled with him. He moved across the room, only stopping when he had her plastered hard against the wall. Her arms gripped him to keep from falling, her ankles rose to cross behind his waist. He grunted, and fucked her roughly, pressed between the wall and his massive body. His hands grasped her tits holding her up by them, hurting her so intensely that she wondered if she’d actually survive this fucking, let alone the week.

When he came, he roared like thunder, grinding his pelvis into hers, as he roared for her to come.

“Pour your fucking pussy juice on me, you fucking whore!”

She exploded, her orgasm running freely as he withdrew. The sound of his cock filling her was audible, squelching with the dousing from her convulsing cunt. Her last conscious thought was ‘oh fucking wow’, before her mind slid away into the ether.

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

I thought…

…..that I’d write some more today–but for the first time since October it’s hit 70 outside…and the burgeoning of life and needs of the garden are tugging me away from indoors and my computer.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing and I want to work in the yard, and sit in the sun while the kids play. Today the vanilla side of life ‘wins’..

I’ll leave you with a little smile, then, and tell you I shall return on the morrow, when rain is forecast and my work for the morning was postponed and an unexpected bonus of free time opened up this week. That’s when the darkside will come out for a spin…

:D

Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Comments

*waving*

Have not fallen off the face of Mother Earth…just hangin’ on by fingernails! This space has not been vacated by a voraciously horny slut and taken over by the sounds of crickets…

really.

Some very weird and naughty dreams to write. Stories to finish…and happy sighing over a wee bit of Master face-time.

Just–no time.

In the immortal words of Big Hunky Swartzenegger… “I’ll be bach…”

nilla

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments