She turned the temp on the air conditioner down to the setting He preferred, even though it usually chilled her more than was comfortable.

“After all,” she mused “it’s all about His comfort, His wants, and His needs.”

As the a/c began to hum and chill the room, she stepped into the bathroom to prepare for His visit. A quick shower was all she had time for, but it was her second one today, so she knew it would do. She used the soap she knew He preferred to smell on her,  and rinsed swiftly.  Stepping from the shower stall, she dried, and quickly  applied a light coating of her moisturizer, again picked by Him. He loved the smell of the vanilla cocoa butter on her flesh, the taste of it if He wanted to bite her, and tonight she was going for 100 % owner approval!

She applied her makeup, added a dusting of bronzing glow, then dove gray eyeliner, lush sable mascara, a swift layer of pale pink lipstick and she was done.

Pulling her long hair up into a ponytail she took one last look in the mirror.

“Perfect!” she thought with a smile, “just what the Master ordered.”

In the bedroom, the temperature difference caused her nipples to harden instantly and her moist body to break out in goosebumps.

“oh yeah, that’s sooo hot,” she pouted sarcastically, looking down at her body. “A slave covered in goosebumps. Well damn!”

She heard the front door close even though He did it quietly. Swiftly she assumed her ordered position, sitting on her heels, palms and head up, eyes downcast, 2 paces from the bedroom door.

She saw His shiny work shoes pause in the doorway. Felt His eyes inspecting her. Felt….or did she only imagine it…. His approval.

She so wanted to hear His honey toned voice saying  “Good girl, kit.”

She sat, waiting, anticipating. She watched His feet pass within inches of her, then, nothing. She thought He stood just behind her looking at her. Was He looking at her? Admiring the curve of  ass, the flare of hips?  She heard Him move further away, heard the strike of a match, smelled the scent of sulfer, knew then He was lighting the candles around the room.

After a time, He came back to where she continued to sit without breaking posture. He leaned against her back, His knee against her spine, as He reached for the lightswitch and darkened the room. Grasping her by her ponytail He spoke.

“”Come here kit, and greet your Master.” 

She turned to Him, pressing her face into the crotch of His pants, inhaling that dark and masculine scent she loved. Felt His hand at the back of her head, pushing her deeper into that dark well. Felt His shaft beneath the fine fabric of His slacks, felt it begin to harden under her cheek.  She lifted her hands, opened  His pants,  used  her fingers  to caress the hardened cock inside. As she freed Him, kissing the head, He gave a soft sound, and she knew He was pleased.

“Good girl, kit.”

She lived for His praise, His happiness, His desires.  She began to suck on His cock, pushing her head down onto His swollen shaft, using her tongue to lap and caress the underside, to further His pleasure. His pubic hair tickled her nose as His  hard cock bottomed out in her throat, pulled back, then thrust again, and again into her warm and willing mouth.

Forgotten was the cold room, for here was the source of her warmth, the hot hard cock of her Master warming her from the inside out. 

He pulled out of her mouth without warning, admonishing her to quiet with a single look. He gestured her to the bed.

“Lay crossways, not at the headboard.” He instructed.

 He pulled her left hand out to the side, locking a cuff onto her narrow wrist, and tying it to the headboard. He repeated this for her right wrist, tying that to the footboard rope. Then again, left foot cuffed and tied to the headboard, right foot to the footboard. As he tied her into position, he pulled her so that her cunt and ass were positioned just at the edge of the bed. This was new to her, made her feel extremely vulnerable and exposed.  Lastly, after gazing deeply into her eyes for a moment, He blindfolded her.

She could hear Him moving about the room.  She could hear the closet door open, hangers banging about and surmised He was changing into His home clothes. Usually He had her disrobe Him, so the change in routine was somewhat baffling.

Time passed, but how much? In the dark, literally and figuratively, she sniggered to herself. Had she lain here mere minutes or had it been longer than an hour?  She could feel the breath of the a/c blowing across her skin, chilling her now that she no longer had her Master’s cock to warm her. Her nipples felt five inches tall! She supposed she was breaking out in goosebumps again, damnit all. How sexy could that be for a man like her Master?  Then again, He could look across the room at her, stretched out and opened wide, see her exposed cunt poised at the edge of the bed in full technicolor view, so maybe He wouldn’t even notice the goosebumps!

She felt, rather than heard, His return. He was standing between her legs, she was certain of it, as she could feel the movement of air against her there.  Without warning, a warm, thick finger invaded her cunt!

“Ungh!” she jumped, startled at the invasion.

“Say something, kit?”  He asked.

“ah, no, Master, i, er, was ….surprised, is all, ” she stammered out, squirming despite herself, as His finger twisted and writhed inside her. Pulling out, plunging back in, she began to undulate to His finger fucking deeply inside her.

“oh, oh, oh” she gasped, “oh Master, that feels sooooo gooooood,”

Upon hearing her, He stopped. His finger pulled out, stayed out. He moved away, she heard Him cross the room. Listening, straining, she thought she heard Him come back, yes, she could feel the breeze of  His return on her now needy,  dripping cunt. She wanted….Him. Wanted to feel Him plunge that hard cock of His deep into her flesh, to have Him impale her, use her as she lay here, open to His every desire.

An unexpected flare of heat, a splash … her nipple felt like it was on fire, and suddenly harder than ever before as  hot wax cooled quickly on her chilled flesh.

“OH MY GOD!”  she lurched in her bonds, gasping.

He laughed, and continued to pour the wax along her body, coating her breasts, creating pathways of pain and pleasure from her nipples to her cunt. Burning heat, cold skin, hardening, pulling wax.

She came in a crescendo of molten wax, as it dripped down her shaved mons into the cleft of her cunt, her juices running down with the hot wax that continued to be dripped relentlessly onto her body. Arching up in ecstacy, she met the  wax with her body, gasping.

“Now comes the fun part,” He said to her, as He removed her blindfold.

With a big grin  He reached for His favorite flogger. 

“Now I get to take all that wax off of you.”


He watched her struggle. She was nearly motionless, trussed as she was, but He could see her muscles quiver, the faint give and take as she pulled at her bonds.

“Breathe,” He said to her, His voice quiet, deep.

He watched her magnificent tits rise, hold a moment, then fall as her breath moved in and out of her. This glorious creature, tied, rouged with His handiwork……His.    Doing His bidding, breathing for and because of Him, submitting completely to His wants, to assuage the hunger that drove Him to drive her submission deeper, deeper.

“Again,” He ordered.

Once again, pale mountains undulated. A shiver escaped her, and He watched the peaks of those mountains harden and rise.

“Again,” He spoke, and as she inhaled He brought the lash down again,  and colored her flesh with His desires.

Barn Dance

“Take Friday off and come out to the country” He had said, firmly.  “Leave Thursday night. We’ll spend the weekend together.”

“i’ll be there,” she had agreed, knowing that tone brooked no arguement. Besides, they hadn’t been together physically in a few weeks, between His travel schedule and all the crap going on at her work. From the time of  His call, until she was packing on Thursday morning, she had thought and wondered about what this play time was going to be like.  They had only been a D/s couple for 7 months, but she already felt her dependence on him deepen through every phone call, every internet visit, each order He gave her, whether it was to mastubate herself to orgasm in front of her webcam, or just to torture her nipples and no orgasms. 

It was still dark on this chilly October morning, as He woke her roughly, blindfolded her, told her not to speak, and herded her towards the barn where they played. She felt the cool dew on her bare feet, shivered. The chill air played around her body, hardening her nipples, raising gooseflesh along her arms, legs, belly. She heard the barn door slide open, felt the dusty floor, dry and somewhat warmer against her feet. The door slid shut. A light clicked on, she heard that, then other sounds, unknown to her. She felt her hearbeat quicken. This was new! Exciting, and yet…an element of fear, danger added a deeper note to her arousal. She felt her cunt begin to warm, pulse with anticipation. Last night, they had made love in a most vanilla-like fashion, two lovers who had been missing each other for too long. He had massaged her tense shoulders, she had given Him a blow job with enthusiasm and all the skills He had taught her  over their time together. They slept entwined. And now…
…she was brought back to the moment as she felt Him move to stand in front of her. His large hands took one wrist, wrapped it in a heavy leather cuff, then the other. A metallic click and she knew her wrists were coupled together. He pulled her forward, one step, two, then stopped. Holding her wrists captive, she smelled hemp, knew He was using it on her somehow, then felt Him move away. A sudden upward pull of her arms and she knew He was somehow winching up the rope that He had attached to her cuffs. Higher, higher. Breast jutting out, her upper arms acting as earmuffs, further confusing her senses as He tied off the rope. She was standing, just barely flat footed, tension in her arms and upper back. Again she felt Him approach, His body heat a palpable thing. He came behind her, gathered up her hair, ponied it and pulled it into a messy bun with a scrunchie. He moved away again, she heard another click, light out, she guessed. Then…nothing.
She could hear the calling of the last hopeful crickets out and inside the barn, the early calls of crows, but even straining as much as she could, she heard no sound of Him. She became cross, then, fully pissed off. Their first time together in so long and He’d waste it by hanging her up like a discarded jacket and leave??? She almost called out to Him. Almost. Then remembered His one stern word to her as He pulled her out of bed,
Her cunt began to moisten, despite her anger, and a deep need began to build inside her. Her achingly hard nipples hardened still more, and she began to squirm. A twist this way, that, trying to keep her footing, to get a sense of where, just where was He?
As if it was a cue, she felt….a tickle on the underside of her tit. She pulled away a bit. Insect? She shuddered, ooked out by that thought. Again, a light tickle on her ass, then on her exposed underarm. She began to gasp and dance away, but the soft tickling followed her, dancing lightly over her body, first the inside of her elbows, then behind her knees, across her mons, then up, slowly, teasingly from the small of her back to her nape. She shivered, shuddered, began to feel moisture dripping from her now superheated cunt. Her tits felt engorged from the tickle play, hypersensitve to touch.  she moved and swayed but was never quite able to get away from the delicious torment. Just as she felt that she might scream from the constant stimulation she felt a nipping pain in her right nipple. She did yell then, just a little but…then a second pinch and she knew that He’d clamped her nipples. Then, the bastard added weights and damnit all, a pair of bells.
“Music to dance by” she heard Him say with a chuckle, as she felt the tickle of the ostrich feather flirt across her ass.


He sat in his chair and waited. His favorite time of the day, when His cunt came home from work. He heard the slam of the car door, her key in the kitchen door, then the clatter as she dropped them into the bowl on the counter.

He pictured her as she was when she left this morning, crisp burgundy business suit, soft black silk shirt beneath,   the small triangle of silk he allowed her on meeting day nestled over her plump, hairless mons.   He knew she was braless,  didn’t even own one anymore, and he smiled to think of  His tits bouncing down the long hallway of her office building as she scurried in for her meeting, a bit late.

He had known  she was going to be late, as he had called her, seduced her over the phone .

“hello cunt” he’d said to her.


“are my tits happy with all that lovely silk rubbing them when you move?” he asked.

A small, quick indrawn breath, then

“yes, Sir!”  and he pictured her nipples hardening as she replied.

 “Sir? I….i have a meeting to get to in 3 minutes….” she began, stuttering.

“Put your hand inside your jacket and rub My nipples for me”  he ordered, overriding her protest.

“do it NOW.”  He spoke sharply, hearing in her breath that she was going to argue with him, and forestalling her. He could hear rustling over the phone, then her soft sigh, an even quieter moan.

 “Good cunt”  He smiled into the phone.

“Are those wee panties of yours getting damp?”

Another moan, louder now, and a breathy

“yes, Sir, they are. And Your nipples are very, very hard.”

 “look at the time, cunt…you must hang up now and run to your meeting…don’t want to keep the boss waiting,do you?”

He chuckled as he disconnected the phone. That had been a highlight of his morning, arousing his cunt, knowing her scent would waft down the hallway ahead of her, knowing that while she was very, very good at being the professional executive, she was an even better cunt.

Now  he saw her  in the doorway between the hall and the living room, pausing as she looked towards his chair, then, down to the floor as she knew he preferred. He loved to look at her, his lovely slave. Her gorgeous hair twirled up on her head, her suit a bit rumpled now, showing the stress of her day.

“Strip” he ordered, then as an afterthought,

 “slowly, cunt, slowly.”

Her suit jacket, blouse, and skirt lay pooled at her feet. Last to go were the minute panties, the slippery dark hose, the sleek heels. He stopped her with a gesture, then,

“Your hair, cunt, release it for me.”

 Her slender arms raised up, then her hair, a beautiful curtain of silk slicked down her back, over her shoulders, curling around, under and past her tits, a riot of soft curls. He loved those curls, loved the feeling of power as he held those sweet tresses in his large hands, loved knowing he could control her movements as he grasped deep into the back of them, burying his fingers deeply, to rest against her scalp. 

He gestured again, to draw her near, and made his fantasy, their reality.

random musings

I’ve thought several times of changing the name of my blog to Not-s0oo-Vanillamom…but…truth be told, inthe words of Popeye The Sailor Man…I yam what I yam!

I can have these fantasies, spank myself w/a ruler (hoooboy that hurted! even gave myself bruises, yay!) but I’m still a nilla. So if you’re nonvanilla, and you still read my blog even tho…well, thanks for seeing past the title.  For letting me muse and ramble and wonder and pose questions to ya, and dream.

I have a story simmering in my brain. “Hurted” my back lifting my protesting 2 yo a few days ago, and am having to take motrin to be able to move, sigh, so i’m a bit foggy. Once I’m sure of where I want to go w/it, I’ll write it down.

Thanks for comments on my fantasies!  I do appreciate feedback!

on de-lurking

I have been reading BDSM blogs for almost a year now. It’s amazing to me that I finally, at 50, found a place that I am ….that I feel…normal for how I feel.

Ever since I was little I loved to see women tied up, imagined it happening to me, feeling the bite of the rope on wrists and ankles, the fear of what would happen to me next…  During the 70’s, all those female-in-peril kind of drama’s  were de rigour, but instead of the hero rescueing the gal, all the time I kept hoping the bad guy would rape her, hit her.   Gosh, I finally put that into print…and no lightning bolt comin’ from that bright blue sky, either!

It was  finding Bondage Blog that started me, and where I  found the link to that wonderful blogster, cunt,  of  “Under His Hand”  fame.  She wrote, in a post I found archived somewhen, that she had always felt unsatisfied, or lost …I forget the exact wording, but it was written as if to me. *That* was how I felt. Feel. For I am forever locked into a vanilla relationship (of over 30 years). 

I’m not willing to destroy that relationship, nor my kids lives, to explore my newly understood fetishes. I discovered masturbating, just last fall. OMG! can you believe it??  Truly, the end of my 49th year was fraught with self-discovery. I liked sex! Self sex, to be sure, but I liked it and began to have many fantasies about  ugly awful  wonderfully dark things…and I have discovered that it is normal…in a kinkster kind of way!

 I’ve been lurking around so many wonderful, lusciously juicy webblogs, Vanillaimpaired, Doubleknot, on and on and on…and finally a few weeks ago, began to de-lurk. I AM vanilla, have never lived out my fantasies, so it must be rather weird for them to read my replies to their posts,  this Vanillamom  getting all wet and gushy over their stories of their Master’s desires and their yummy descriptions of playtime together.

 Oh, and although I have no desire to become a “domly one” I love  the “View from the Top” blog, in part because it shows the perspective for a Dom/Master .  Frankly, it is his writing, notably the Consensual Stalker stories, which I adore, and which is a massive turn on for moi!

Will I ever post HNT (half-nekkid Thursday) photo’s of me? dunno. That would be the next step in my journey. It makes my heart pound even to write what I’ve written so far…the D/s stories I’ve imagined and written in my head over and over, now out on the web to be viewed by others…voyeurism of the inside of my brain! I’ll think on this some more, continue to delurk, explore, self torture my tits and beat my own ass in private, as I masturbate to my darkest fantasies…and de-lurk myself into reality.

The Lesson

The wave was beginning to engulf her. She could feel it swarming over her, turning her insides out, her outsides in. The feeling of his cock pounding in and out, his thrusts hard, forceful, demanding was pushing her deep into that wave and then…

…he pulled out.

“Noooooooooo…” she moaned long and low.

she squirmed on the bed trying vainly to rub her clit, but the ropes on her wrists and ankles lashed her firmly into place in the center of the bed, and the wedge under her belly lifted her ass up but gave no place for her to rub and give herself relief. Her head turned to the side to look for him in the room.

He sat in his chair, his hard cock gleaming wetly, visably throbbing. He had a smile on his face as he stroked himself, watching her struggle on the bed. Watched her, watching him. He knew she was waiting for him to do, or say …something. He stared  at her, and she finally averted her eyes as she had been taught.

He watched until he saw her cooling down, watched her struggles and moans weaken as the passion passed, then got up behind her on the bed. Lightly stroking her inner thighs, he felt her quiver.


His hand connected with her beautiful round bottom. Instantly a red handprint began to bloom on that fertile field.


and her other cheek began to redden to match its mate.


alternating cheeks, and force, he spanked her ass again and again until she wept and moaned. He watched her cunt begin to ooze again, smiling as he watched her passion re-ignite.

She panted, hating herself for forgetting one of His rules,  loving him for giving her what she so desperately craved. She could feel the pulsing heat of her ass, the soft touch of his fingers as he touched her weeping cunt lips, slipping from her clit to her anus, and back to her clit. She tried to push her ass up to him, but the ropes held her tight.

“Master………”  haltingly she spoke, “pl-please may I cum?”

He looked at her,  at the  glowing ass and dripping cunt and smiled to himself. A touch of firmness now, and she would be his forever.

“No, you may not cum until I tell you, is that clear?”

“y-yes, Master”

He could hear the stress in her voice, knew it would be mere moments before she was fully, passionately begging for His permission to cum. Again His finger traced the path from clit to anus to clit. He felt her vibrate against this one point of contact between them, his fingertip, her center. Pulling His finger away from her, He paused, then with a single, forceful thrust He was inside her, buried deeply in her hot, wet hole. He felt her cunt clenching around his cock, as he ground out…

“CUM! cum for me now you little slut. CUM!”

First visit

What the hell was she doing here? Panic was beginning to set in as she watched him move confidently around the kitchen pouring wine for them. Of course he was confident…it was his kitchen, after all , and here she was, perched on a stool in her new black dress, dark hose and 4 inch heels. He was well dressed as well, in charcoal slacks and a lighter grey polo shirt. He smelled divine, spicy and…male. Remembering that, she took a deep breath, consciously relaxing her clenched hands, and reached for the goblet he offered her.


She slanted a look up at him through sooty lashes, then returned her gaze to the deep red wine in her glass.

“I thought as much,” and setting his glass in front of her, he walked behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body radiating out to her, then his hand gently curling on her nape.

“You dressed just as I asked” he stated softly.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” she babbled, leaning forward as if to rise.

“I’m not very good at following orders, you know? I’m an…independent woman!” she continued to talk, and too fast, she knew, but there were those nerves skittering up her spine again.

“And yet, here you sit, in the dress I asked you to wear, with your hair up the way I like” he replied as his hand fell upon her shoulder, firmly pressing her back into her seat.

He held his hand upon her shoulder until he felt her relax a bit, then reached up again to glide his finger along the whispy hairs that curled about the nape of her neck below her pony tail. Slowly he twirled one of the curls around his finger, pulling gently, then a bit harder until her head slowly eased back and she met his eyes.

“Open your mouth” he commanded, and when she complied, he put his finger between her lips, tracing her teeth, her inner cheek, her tongue.

“Suck it”.

She did as he asked, closing her lips around him, twirling her tongue about his digit, sucking firmly,  keeping her eyes on his, mesmerized.

Slowly he pulled his finger from her mouth.

“That’s a good start,” he said, as he pulled her from the stool.