Ooooh Myyyyy Gawd…

I forgot what a mean Bastard he is. And the delighted laughter that comes from him when I say that to him. Right after a few hissed “fuck YOU!”‘s have come out first. I forgot how much he enjoys being mean…and immediately being kind…and immediately after that, slipping right into mean mode as I relax…

Never relax your guard around a Dom on a Dominance High. Like…ever.

I’ll write more once I can sit longer. Right now, I’m drained, empty, and yet so full.

And it hurts.

Yeah.

Hurts a lot.

But dayam it’s so amazingly, fucking good, too.

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Stuff and Updates and Nattering On…

Howdy! I’ve not had time to sit and natter at you all in a long while. How is it that the older we get the less time we have? I’m not an empty-nester despite my age, so that’s a part of it, but man, life is busy. I’ve decided that it beats sitting around twiddling my thumbs, but there are days that thumb-twiddling seems a bit enviable! Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE what I do for a living, but between that and all the other life-things that constantly need attending, I’m flat out.

Okay, not “flat”…*snickers loudly*…you’ve *seen* my HNT’s after all. Though I admit that age IS definitely adding saggage faster than I am liking.  I’m pretty glad we have gravity, but …somedays it’s a drag. (I’m falling over laughing, you guys. Man, I kill myself with my own humor.)

I’m writing this late in the night, (can you tell, by all the silly slapstick humor already?), and also late in the week, but you won’t see it until “it” is happening.  It’s Sunday morning, and you’re having breakfast, or lounging in bed scanning porn and here I am with a new post. But I’m busy so I can’t  wait until Sunday to write, because I’ll be too busy doing it.

What it?

C’mon, y’all are smart…Doing. It.

Yes!

M and nilla are finally having another playtime. Our second of the year, which doubles what we had last year. (Last year was a tough year for both of us). We’ve not had face time nor play time since late January or early February. (I’m bad with dates!) Anyway, it’s been a while. But as you read this, I’m getting ready to head out and meet him. He makes me nervous. Being nervous makes me aroused. Being around Him arouses me. Basically, I’m gonna be wet and wanting for the next bunch of days, soon to be ‘handled’ as you sit there with your bagel or toast, coffee or tea.

He touches me, I melt. Smacks me? Oooh heaven. Last time we played, I squirted when he slapped my pussy. He still teases me about that. Hi, I’m nilla and if you smack my pussy I’ll be your squirting slut tonight…

TMI?

Nah! Not here!

What else is going on? Gardening, but this here is a sex blog and I’ll bet you don’t care about my Shasta Daisies.

I don’t have Shasta Daisies.

*laughs*

Yard work. Again, sex blog. Boring! I colored my hair. Boring. I masturbated and came so hard that I almost fell asleep with my dildo (still on) in my pussy.

Better.

It’s not a story, but it’s true. So, not boring. But when I snapped out of that post-orgasmic haze, I did giggle. Please tell me this happens to you when you masturbate? Sometimes?

Anyone?

*no crickets allowed. You must share your silly masturbation story with me*

(I may be a submissive slut, but I’m a bossy one!)

Seriously, life here has been this yawny? INDEED it has! But…after you read this, and sip your coffee to the bottom, and shake your head and say “oh nilla, you silly slut”, you’ll pause a moment and go “I’ll bet there’s going to be some juicy stuff ahead (pun intended!) in her blog next week!”

And it’ll have to be next week because He makes me so blotto that it takes me 48 hours to recover my brain cells. The peace, though. OMG. There’s nothing like it, is there? Mostly the demons in my head are quiet these days, because I just don’t have time for them, either. But M puts all my worries and fears and confuddled emotions in a box, and stomps on them and hands me the box back when we’re done playing, and as I pry open the sides of the box, all the things that have haunted at the back of my mind have turned to pixie dust, and I’m free. There really is no better gift.

Well, other than the bruises, and sore places.

Thems is puuuuuurty awesome, dontchaknow?

*laughs again*

And if you’re really good (or in our case, really naughty), I’ll share. You know. Once my brain crawls back from between my legs.

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

OOOOhhO’s

can’t, she whimpered. Her head thrashed from side to side, the only part of her body free to move.

“You will.”

His voice was implacable. His will be done, she knew but she was going to die.

hell of a way to go, her brain said, as her body jerked. Fluid jetted from her swollen vulva, her pussy red from the beatings of hand and toys. Her clit throbbed, her nipples tightened. Again.

He rested the vibe against her slit as she whimpered, and leaning over her, snapped a tiny elastic over her nipples. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, and her nipples radiated pain. Her pussy flushed a deeper red.

The vibe slipped inside her pussy and pumped hard and fast.

nooo i can’t, i can’t i caaaaaannnnn…”

Her body arched against the ropes that held it down, open, accessible to his every touch. Her mouth opened in a high keening nnnnnnnn sound that drew a smile from him. It was the sound of ultimate surrender. She could not control what happened to her. She’d wanted orgasms, not pain.

Many orgasms.

He just did what she wanted, he reminded her as she sagged back against the mattress. Orgasms and not pain. Orgasm after orgasm is what he gave her. His gift, his acceding to her desires. He wondered if she thought it was a gift still.

Her head moved, perhaps a nod of agreement. Sweat matted her hair to her forehead. Her nose and eyes were slick with other fluids, including his come.

She’d been so pretty when she’d come into the room, hair long and loose and softly curled, makeup just so, skirt and shirt tidy and sexy.

Now?

Now she was a wreck, a ruin of a slut, broken and weeping and coming again. Covered in sweat and come and tears, she’d gone from pretty to something else entirely. She was his. And he made her come apart.

And she was beautiful.

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

HNT ~ Black and Blue, Vanilla-style

20170622_174102-1.jpg

Image | Posted on by | 2 Comments

Wet

He leaned against the wrought iron fence, a snifter of brandy in one hand. The amber liquid glowed as the last shafts of sun speared through the trees that ringed the property. Sunset was a heady of time of day, the end of work, the start of play. He rested one hand on the fence, relaxed, watching her.

Her mouth was full of spit, which she was trying valiantly to swallow. She hated when it leaked around the bright red ball and oozed down over her. There was no beauty in it, which perplexed her. Didn’t guys want their women to be all pretty for them? Where was the appeal in messing her the hell up this way?

“You’re scowling.”

Her eyes met his. Though she dreamed of being submissive, there was that glowing nugget of ‘fuck you’ inside her. She was just not going to be a doormat. She could be obedient and still be herself. She could challenge him sometimes; she was willing to risk the punishment of being sassy. But though she was submissive, she was never going to be totally wimpy either. She knew he could read the glare in her eyes as he watched her carefully. He enjoyed making her pissy, it was part of the appeal for him, right up there with spit drool all over her, and cumming on her tits, and any of the other things he did to her.

She enjoyed that he would only let her go so far over the line. That he’d reel her back in, that he’d not put up with brattiness (and she didn’t attempt to go there, really), but that he could deal with everything else as long as she was, in the end, obedient. She’d opened her mouth for the ball gag, despite knowing that he’d keep it in long enough for the drool river.

That had been pretty freaking obedient of her.

She sat back on her haunches, feeling the first line of spit dribbling out of her stretched lips. It would only be a moment before the long silvery strand attached itself to her tit. So yes. She was scowling, despite the freaking gag.

“Come here, slut.”

The glare intensified. She knew he didn’t mean walk. She wanted to balk. Wanted to shake her head no, hell no. She slipped down to all fours. The motion pulled the string on the ass hook, wedging it deeper up her butt. There was some discomfort, but more than that was a pleasure that came from the large ball rubbing up inside of her. Every wiggle of her ass on the long crawl to where he stood smirking would turn her on and hurt her too.

He was just that fucking devious.

She took the first crawling ‘step’, wincing and pausing. Dropping her head pulled the rope too tight in her ass and she arched her back to relieve the stress. Her hands moved, her knees moved, and she whined. Her knees and palms hurt as she crawled over the long trail of rice he’d sprinkled along the floor. Her ass throbbed, her pussy swelled with need.

She needed him to fuck her.

He needed to witness how badly she wanted that, by creating a pain-filled obstacle course. If she really, really wanted to be used, she’d continue on her journey despite the rice. As she got closer to him, one painful foot at a time, she noted that he’d mixed dried split peas and lentils into the debris on the floor.

Had her mouth been free, she would have given him an earful! How fucking cruel he was! Sure, he was a sadist. Sure he was her Dom. But geezus.

Her cunt weeped.

He made her hurt herself to prove that she wanted him to hurt her more. And fuck her. Dear gods she needed him to fuck her.

He’d finished his brandy, set the snifter aside. Now his hands held the long whip. As she made it through the doorway and out onto the decking, his gaze sharpened. A quick flick had the tail dancing through the air, snapping on her back. Whipping her head, arching, moaning with the shock of pain, brought other pain. The beast in her butthole. The rice and dried beans under her sore palms and knees, on the tops of her feet and between her toes. And now the dancing fire of the whip lacing across her back and bottom. The single line of drool had become a steady stream which her hand or knee occasionally landed in.

She couldn’t think about spit when her back and sides were being caressed with the kiss of the whip. It carried a sting like no other. He was criss-crossing up her back, until the she was close enough for the tip to curl along her side and lick across her left tit. She reared up then, whimpering and whinnying behind the gag.

“Oh, did that one hurt a lot, slut?”

Tears and snot joined the spit. She nodded, then winced when the action tugged the hook in her bum.

“Come to me, slut,” he said again, his voice like warm honey. She could see the outline of his cock under the thin cotton of his loungers. She could see that his own nipples were hard. Her mouth watered in anticipation of tasting both.

She crawled onward.

Closer now, he could, did, moved around her. He’d switched to the paddle. In another incarnation, the paddle was actually the pizza peel. The bastard had no compunctions about using it on her ass, then calmly washing it off and using it to pull pizza from the oven.

Weird Doms!

He reached under her, smacking her swinging tits with the long barbecue spatula. The sound of her moans, the slap of things on her body, the crunch of the dry stuff beneath her merged into a steady tunnel of sensation. She hurt, she lusted, she wanted to make it to the fence.

Only a few more crawling steps to go. She collapsed her arms, ass in the air, forehead resting on the back of her hands as her legs quivered. He hadn’t given permission to wipe the rice off of her knees yet.

The spatula struck between her inner thighs.

“Wider. No, wider.”

Stinging slap of the metal on her tender inner thighs directed just how wide he wanted her spread. He pressed against the metal hook protruding from her anus and she whined loudly as he laughed. His fingers reached into the folds between her legs, slipping easily inside her hot cunt.

“You’re so fucking wet. You little pain whore!”

His free hand slapped her ass, her hips, her thighs. The other hand was busy fucking her hole, pinching her clit, tugging and pushing the ball in and out of her puckered rectum.

“You don’t know whether to shit or go blind, do you slut?”

The quote was an oldie, but it sure described her predicament. She wanted him to torment her, to fuck her, to play with her. She wanted to lay on a bed and be fucked in that wild way he had.

It wasn’t about what she wanted.

Her skin quivered as he continued to slap, probe, and poke at her. At long last, hours? Days? Weeks? He stepped away, grabbing her hair.

“Get up, slut,” and he tugged her to her feet.

“Clean yourself up,” he ordered, flicking his finger across one spit-covered nipple. “You’re a fucking mess!”

She would have glared at him, but she was too turned on now to even protest. His fingers pinched the slippery wet nub, as he leaned close.

“You like it when I hurt you. You want more, don’t you?”

She closed her eyes, breathed through the pain in her tender nipple.

And nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Pool

She was sitting in the lounge chair under the umbrella. Not necessarily hiding from the sun, but not seeking to be burnt to a crisp, she enjoyed, nonetheless, the brilliant sparkle on the surface of his pool.

It was pretty freaking awesome to have your own in-ground pool outside your back door, even if it was hot enough to fry an egg on the concrete around it. She was glad he’d suggested being here today, for a day to chill and relax and try to cool down. He knew how much the heat bothered her, and for all that he was a wicked bastard in the bedroom, he was careful with her.

He took care of his things, he’d told her, and she was now one of his things.

She wasn’t sure why that had made her all melty. Maybe that submissive need to belong, maybe just  the matter-of-fact way he’d said it, the casual “this is the way things are now” that let her know that she was his. Her fingers toyed with the collar he’d given her. It was rose-gold, a thin band ringing her neck. Not tight enough to choke, not loose enough to forget, and unable to remove unless he did so.

She wore a two piece suit though she wasn’t comfortable the way her flabby belly pushed out the long top. He’d wanted her to wear a bikini, but she threw her safeword at him. He’d laughed, told her he’d seen her asshole, for goodness sake, why would he be upset by her belly which he’d had his hands, mouth, and toys upon numerous times? She’d blushed, and regrettably, whined a little bit. In the end he did compromise with the tankini top and minuscule bottom.

He came out via the sliding door, drinks in hand.

She slapped her hand over her mouth.

“What?” he said, watching her eyes dance, and her fingers clamped over her lips. She shook her head no.

“What?” he asked again.

Her other hand gestured vaguely at him. He was sure he heard giggles from behind her hand. Setting the drinks down, he leaned over her and tugged her hand away. Her lips curved, her mouth parted.

Guffaws erupted.

His brows beetled together. She laughed harder. Tears began to slip down her cheeks, and she held her belly  as the raucous humor poured from her.

“Those….no. No Sir. No. You can’t. No…”

And she fell back into hysterical laughter.

“I beg your pardon?” He said, his voice a mix of perplexed and affronted.

“Oh..oh..” and she fell sideways in the lounger. Her knees drew up  as she lay there, helplessly laughing. Her butt was wiggling around as she gasped out wild chortles. He leaned over her again and slapped it hard. Her eyes widened, a look of shock crossed her face. But when she looked at him, giggles exploded once again.

His hand smacked her round bottom again. And again. And again for good measure, the third time being the most forceful. Her laughter ceased, but her smile remained.

“Ouch. And yum,” she said, rubbing her butt cheek.

“Do take a moment to explain…..this…this…hilarity.” He waved his hand at her as she continued to lay curled in the chair. One foot stretched out, a slash of sunlight attempting to fry her toes. She hiccuped.

“Oops!” she said, grinning. “Sometimes that happens when I laugh too much.”

“Indeed,” he replied drolly.

“It’s those…those…what are those?”

“It’s my swimsuit. What. What?” He frowned at her as she stuffed her fist into her mouth. Small tee-hee’s and snickers leaked around her fingers.

“You..they…SIR! You’ve got pink flamingo’s on your pants!” Another burst of laughter threatened to explode. “FLAMINGO’s Sir.”

“Yes. They are flamingo’s. So?”

“You…you’re such a bastard! You hit me. You hurt me. And you know I love it. But you have this reputation for being such a badass, such a Dom Bastard Badass, that people are actually afraid of you. *I* was afraid of you before, too. And here you are…”

This time she could not stop the laugh. Her hand waved towards the offending swim trunks, their acid-pink flamingos practically glowing.

“And here I am.” He smiled. “I like pink flamingo’s. They remind me of the color of a woman’s pussy after it’s been slapped for a while. A long while.”

He wagged his eyebrows at her in a way that made her laugh all the harder. And also made her pussy grow damp, made her body yearn.

“Now, slut, if you’re done making fun of my choice of swimwear, get your ass over here and suck my cock.”

She smiled, and complied.

 

Just a little short (and sweet!) tale to let you all know I’m still alive! I woke up with this story in my head this morning, and I had to ‘catch’ it before it got away…! ~nilla~

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Another Late HNT

Internet issues have challenged me–I tried to get this together last night so that i’d be EARLY, but my interwebz wasn’t up for the task (figures, the one night I have time to do it early, right?!). Right now it’s not running awesomely enough for me to upload my new pic, so I’m trolling through some of my tit-history.

Who knew one could have a tit-history?

(the thought amuses me greatly)

~n~

img_9259Why isn’t it football season yet

20161214_220105-1

Well, at least it’s tanktop season!

20150524_230319_201505290107011471

Hot enough to be nekkid. I do luuuvvvv nekkid.

HNT

..but now it’s late and time for this tired HNT slut to snuggle up in bed. ‘night, peeps!

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Comments

Tighter

the slap on her tit made her jolt. being blindfolded left her unaware until he hurt her. the pain was intense, the ropes biting hard into her soft flesh. couldn’t see the color of them, though she imagined them turning blue as she’d seen on so many porn pics.

oW! she yelped, knowing the cane by the thin burn of pain.

fUCK! she tried to move a few dancing steps back, away, but he’d tied her from above so she could only move a little bit left or right, back or forth. the crack of the thin wooden rod upon her nipple burned like hellfire.

his steps moved around her, she knew he walked hard so she could fear, anticipate, sweat.

SWAT!

SWAT!  her ass was burning from the two crossed swishes, she felt the X blaze across her butt. Bastard! Asshole!

words begged to be uttered, lips wisely held them back

SMACK! upon her tender nipple, swollen and rigid from the ropes binding her large tits, making them swell to rigid, fat orbs of purple, slut-grapes taking pain.

she whinnied with the pain, like a horse with a burr under its saddle blanket, bucking and writhing and seeking escape. the safeword slid across her tongue, knocked upon her teeth for release,

but she swallowed it away instead.

ScREAmED him for a right BASTARD as he tapped the stick again on her tender nipple. she felt the bruise rising, long straight highways of purple rising against the swollen purple of her tit.

his fist in her hair, pulling her head back, growling into her blinded face

a bastard am I? am I? 

her nod as he held her hair, cried as he laughed, and agreed.

releasing her to swing and dangle, a blue-titted bird, a human wind chime, a snotty-faced creature with head bowed.

legs, shoulders, ass, pussy, all stroked with his lashing. cool tender hands tracing along her aching flesh.

wiping the juice from her thighs, her lips suckling his fingers clean, tasting herself, moaning.

his fingers made quick work of her next release.

jerking on her rope, she came, came, came

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

OH SHIT!! It’s THURSDAY!! HNT

When the going gets delayed, the delayed get frantically creative? Happy HNT y’all!

20170608_223303-1.jpg

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Knotty Problems

“Come along, slut, step lively!”

His tone was cheerful. As it should be, she supposed as she tried to not trip. In fact, she’d been saying “don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip” as a silent mantra during this entire hike. Easy for him to be cheerful, as the woodsy scent of his bug repellent wafted back to tease her nostrils.

She wore none.

Mosquitoes and flies and gods knew what else buzzed around her. She would have swatted them away, but she had to concentrate on not tripping. And with her hands tied behind her back it was impossible. It was annoying. And frustrating. And itchy!

A film of sweat glistened on her face, while a fine trickle of it ran between her breasts. Her shirt, had she been wearing one, would have been soaked by now. The sweat tickled. And itched. Everything itched.

Everything, that is, except for her nipples. Those ached. He’d tied each of her nipple rings to a thin twine, doled out 5 or 6 feet of length, and tugged them like a pair of reins. A pair of ‘reins’ tied tight on her nipple rings, attached to her sensitive nipples.

“Hurry up, slut,” he’d said as they left the campsite. And later,

“Step lively, slut,” as she’d carefully navigated her way over a rocky section of trail. Barefoot. Naked. Nipples tied and held in the hands of the one who would be more than happy to watch her take a trip, reef up her nips, get covered in dirt and who knew what.

“I’m tired,” she moaned, her bare feet aching. He stopped, walked back to her. “Need a drink?” She nodded, eyes down as he liked.

“Open.”

Tilting her head, she felt she must look like a baby bird. He poured a tiny bit of water onto her tongue.

“More, later, slut.” He tugged the titty rope, grinned as she yelped, wincing.

They didn’t walk much further before he stopped.

“Here’s good,” he said, his eyes darting around the area. It didn’t look any different from any other part of the woods, she thought. Trees. Dirt. Rocks. Stream nearby.

“Stand here,” he directed, moving her to stand between two trees. He dug through his backpack, pulling out more rope, a spring, other odd bits and bobs. And a huge anal plug. Oh joy. Could this be any funner? she mused silently. He knew she hated the anal plug. Which is why it was in there, she supposed. Why, why did she feel compelled to tell him when she hated something?

She was seriously fucking stupid sometimes.

Standing patiently as he played with the rope, tensions, the spring, she sighed. His eyebrows shot up.

“Am I…boring you, slut??” There was amazement and a hint of something dangerous in the tone.

“no..not at all Sir…I was…uh…tired from the hike. And the bugs, Sir.”

“Ah.” The sound was not one of acceptance, but warning. Sheesh. She’d much rather be home doing laundry, frankly.

His hands were around her waist, then slapped at her thighs.

“Open.”

“OPEN.”

She adjusted her stance twice, until he was happy with the space between her legs. She felt the tug of the rope down her asscrack, then threading up her pussy gap. Up over and around, then the two ends tied into a thick knot.

uh. oh.

He tugged, tightened, adjusted until the fucking thing pressed hard against her clit. She moaned. He slapped his hand over the whole bit–pussy lips, clit, and knot. She moaned deeper. It hurt soooo damned good.

He moved the rope and shoved the fat thickness of the ass plug into her pussy.

“That’ll keep you full.”

She squirmed. It was so much thicker than her favorite dildo, than his cock, even. He returned to his backpack, came up with whatever he wanted with a pleased “there you are!” and returned to her cunt. There was more pulling and tugging, and a sudden hmmmm.

“This vibe will make things interesting,” he said, patting her mons.

It only took him a few minutes more to finish tying her. A rope around her waist to the tree behind her, holding her in balance. The crotch rope tied, her nipple ropes tied. It pulled her nipples, hard.

“Funny thing, slut,” he said, grinning at her. “Your nipples are going to hurt soon, especially when I tie the last of my twine around each one. You can lean forward to release some of the pressure, but that will pull your crotch rope tighter, and pull that knot tight and hard against your clit. You’ll have to decide which will hurt the most, the least. And of course, that vibe will keep your clit excited, swollen and needy. Not enough vibe to come, of course. But close. You’ll enjoy that.”

He laughed seeing the expression on her face as he pulled the twine for her nipple wrapping from his pocket.

“Oh, okay, so you won’t really enjoy it.”

His hands worked quickly, wrapping the first strand of twine around her nipple until it jutted out, ring pulling the tender tip away from her tit. She could feel the burn as it began to swell, moaned a little bit as he began to tie the other nipple tightly too.

Once done, he leaned forward, took her chin in his hand, looked into her eyes.

“But I will. I will enjoy every moment watching you wiggle and squirm and fight the pain. And when I’m done watching you, I’ll fuck your ass.”

Bending down, he picked up the pack, pulled out an apple, took a bite as he sat on a rock not far away from her.

“While you’re still tied, of course.”

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 10 Comments