She stood in the center of the room. A single bulb illuminated her. Porcelain skin, long dark hair, pulled into a high, sleek ponytail. Her tits were nicely shaped, although her left tit was bigger, hung a bit lower than the right. Her nipples were small and pink.

Her hands were cuffed behind her. Her feet flat on the floor, she refused to shift with the nerves that fluttered her belly as she heard Him approach through the darkness.

In one hand he held a clamp. He was reflexively opening and closing it. She didn’t look at his face, the clamp held her attention just then. He stopped, just a foot away from her. Waiting.

She tore her gaze from the rubber tipped device. Her eyes met His. She shuddered at the intensity of that gaze. His Beast was unleashed and running wild. She knew she would be feasting on Him, even as he would be feasting on her later. For now, all he wanted was her pain. Her acceptance.

It was hard-won, that acceptance. She took and took and took, and often wondered why she didn’t break. But she knew why. He strengthened her.

Satisfied, he reached out and pulled one nipple. Pulled and pulled it until the small bit of flesh tightened between his fingers. He heard the hiss of her indrawn breath, the fear in it.

He waited. Waited for the tension to melt a bit as he just stood there, holding her nipple. When he felt her relax, quick as a viper striking, he slapped the clamp onto her nipple and released her tit to fall back against her chest. The chain danced down her body in a silver ripple.

He watched her face, absorbed the pain there, cupping her face in his palm as if to absorb that pain from her and draw it deeply into him.

“Yes, ” he murmured. “hurt for Me, slut.” His palm slapped her face, leaving a crimson mark behind. She absorbed that, too. The heat burned into her, fed her. He was hers. She was His. Intermingled needs, intertwined lusts.

The second clamp was so much harder. Knowing it was coming.  Knowing how much it would hurt. Her eyes squinted, her breath froze. A short thin reedy sound came from her as she exhaled the pain, inhaled slowly to try, somehow to manage to bear it for Him.

He affixed the chain to the second clamp. It was tight, her two tits neatly threaded together by the tight chain. He pulled another chain from his dress pants. Her eyes widened. This was new. Feared. New and unexpected made her shiver. He was such a fucking sadist.

He hooked the long chain to the center of the chain, just at her cleavage line. He kicked her ankles apart, then threaded the silver links through her slit.  Stepping behind her, he attached the end to the cuffs that held her wrists together, and pulled it tightly. It rubbed hard against her clit.  He wrapped it once around the cuff chain, then left the long end of the chain to hang down her ass, just a foot above the floor.

The pleasure of the chain teasing her clit was nearly swamped by the pain of her nipples being pulled so tightly down. When he pulled her wrists up just a bit, the chain dug harder into her clit, but made her choke out a short scream  as her nipples were viciously pulled. 

“OGAWD it hurts so fucking much so fucking much..”  her voice was husky, thick  with it.

He was still behind her when she heard more noises. He placed a shackle around one ankle, then another to her right. Finally, he hooked the ankle chain to that loose end of chain. She could not move even a bit without pulling on her nipples, nor stirring her clit.

He came back in front of her. He had her butterfly vibe in his hand.

“Inspiration,” and he smiled his wicked beast smile.

Sliding the vibe under the chain, just below her clit, turning it on was both heaven and hell.  Pain and pleasure, so sharply intertwined. He knew just how to pull her along that path, pulling her from her comfort zone, and into his danger zone. 

He pulled up a folding chair and watched, drinking her in.

He was a very thirsty man.


“Put this in you, slut.”

He tossed the egg vibe onto the bed on top of the black and white print skirt He had approved for her to wear to work. She threw him a slanted look, her lashes covering most of her expression, but not all of it.

He crossed the room and slapped her ass.

“Impertinent bitch today, eh?” He chucked her under the chin as one would a pouty child.  “Be a good girl and put that fucking egg inside your cunt. NOW.”

She snatched it up, and levered one leg onto the bed frame.  He watched as she inserted it. He knew there was plenty of natural lube there, he’d made good use of that  hole this morning. He loved knowing that she’d be leaking his semen throughout the day beneath her long skirt.  That and her own fuck juices. He handed her the leather underwear. Tight and restrictive, it had a mesh panel that allowed her to  piss through it, yet kept a toy buried inside her cunt. He’d designed them himself, and a leather working friend had made him two pair. She slid them on, and  he zipped up the back zipper, and snapped the small padlock in place. Leaning into her, he bit the back of her neck and whispered, “Mine”.

She hated the panties, even as she adored them. Her D/s lifestyle was mostly played out at home, but of late, he’d really been pressing the ownership manual down her throat. She loved being owned by him, but was also torn by societies view of “Modern Woman” … productive, independent, self-reliant. At work, she was all those things. But at home, He was the Boss, and she, his willing slave.

He’d even begun sharing her with friends. She hated and loved it. To be an object of such lust, a hole for the use of release was a major, major turn-on for her. He always  held her later at night, whispering how he loved her submission, loved her. She knew this was filling a need within him, too.

***                               ***                  ***

She was sitting at her computer, reading the end-week reports. She greeted her boss, and he reminded her of the staff meeting in 10 minutes. She nodded, and went back to running the figures.  It took a moment to register that her vibe had clicked on. She twitched in her seat, trying to resettle herself. She finished the report just as the meeting was set to begin.

She rushed into the room, presenting her boss the papers he needed, and settled herself beside her friend, Marci.  The Friday meeting was endlessly boring, since she had already perused the data, and her mind wandered a bit. She felt the vibe click up again, then 15 seconds later, up another notch. This was making her crazy! Where the fuck was He?  She felt heat building in her pussy, and began to feel flushed elsewhere. Her nipples clenched up hard, and she exhaled.

“You okay Sandy?” Marci looked at her friend, who was a bit …pink. Her whisper was soft.

“Fine” muttered Sandi through clenched teeth.

The vibe suddenly clicked off. She felt her breath try to whoosh out of her, and she grabbed at some modicum of dignity and slipped from her seat. She knew the back of her skirt was wet from her fluids, but the pattern of the skirt would hide that. The devious bastard!

As she slipped out the door, the vibe clicked on again.

She made it to the ladies room before her orgasm exploded. Sitting on the toilet, she leaned against the wall, shuddering and shaking as she came. She wadded up tissue and blotted at the mesh lining her panties. She smelled like a slut. She was drenched, and still the vibe chimed on.  She clenched her back teeth together.  She heard the ladies room door open, just as the vibe clicked off.

“Sandy? Are you okay? Mr. Morgan sent me to see if you …”

“I’m fine, really, Marci. Just a bit…um, crampy. ”

“okay, well the meeting is over now, so you escaped the last 5 minutes of scintillating tedium, anyway.” Marci giggled.

“Well, that’s a relief.” and she thought silently, “and a relief that this fucking egg is off.”

“I’ll catch up with you at lunch, then,”

“okay, thanks Marci”..but as the door shut behind Marci, the egg clicked on again.

Sandi narrowed her eyes, wondering. No, he wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have.

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

It was the longest Friday of her life. She’d had at least 6 orgasms, the egg going off and on, up and down throughout the entire 8 hours. She had thought maybe Marci…but sometimes the egg would go on and off when Marci was nowhere around her.  It went on twice in the elevator, crowded with lunch seeking co-workers.  She was a quivering soaked mess, and she couldn’t wait to get home. She wasn’t sure if she was going to rape Him, or kill Him.

Maybe kill him after she raped him.

She pulled into the driveway, noticing the cars in front of her neighbor’s house. Good, if they were having a party, they’d never hear her screams as she got fucked and fucked and fucked, nor his as she murdered him by shoving the fucking egg down his throat.

She stormed in through the kitchen door. Throwing her keys and purse onto the table, she began yelling…”MASTER???”


She heard him answer from the living room.

“In here little slut. You sound a bit …. tense little girl.” And she heard him laugh that “I’m so fucking pleased with myself ” laugh of his. Gritting her teeth, she remembered to peel out of her work clothing before coming to his presence. All that was left of her Friday were the leather panties, and  a partially dried line of sticky fluids down her thighs.  She smelled like a whorehouse. Her pussy was screaming with need. She rubbed at the mesh between her thighs. It was soaked.

Dropping to all fours, she crawled from the kitchen to the living room. NO fucking way was she going to earn a punishment when she so desperately needed a fucking!

She froze at the entry to the living room. Master was there, in his favorite chair. On the couch was her boss,  Mr. Morgan.  Sitting between his knees was Marci. She was naked but for a leather collar with attached leash. In  one hand, Mr. Morgan held the end of that leash. In his other, the remote that operated her egg. Even as she took all of that in, her egg clicked on, high. Again. The smile on Mr. Morgans’  face was every bit as predatory as her own Master’s.  She shivered with lust and nerves.

She crawled to her Master, and laid her head on his knee as he liked.

It looked like the start to a fine fucking weekend.

… 5 (Working, part 2)

She wished she had thought to stuff her toys into her laptop case. The dildos pushed uncomfortably under her tits, and when her best friend  Amelia came to the house to give her a lift to work, she was on the receiving end of a very hard hug.

Fuck! She was going to have dildo shaped bruises under each of her tits. Plus, she knew He would make her blog about the incident, AND He was going to want to see pics of it, as well as personally inspecting them over the cam.

She hoped she’d left her bag at work. NO way she was bringing home all this gear in her bra and pockets.


Working at the local mall was a really interesting job. She loved the variety of people in the world, and got to see them in all their humanness. The little kid who only stepped on the brown tiles, who almost bowled over the teens who were liplocked on the only brown tile that conjoined the three “arms” of the mall. The elderly couple, still holding hands as they slowly made their way to their Friday lunch date at the tiny restaurant. The geeks walking with lowered gazes, the punks with their spiky hair do’s all trying to outdo one another for ‘coolness’. The dikes who, despite the ruralness of the area, said fuck you conservatives, and held hands as they walked down the concourse.

She stood, lost in thought. It was midafternoon, and her shift was heading for the final lap. She thought about Master, so very far away. Wondered how his day was winding down, as it was nearly 8 p.m. there.  She wondered if he would take up his friends idea to head for a late movie. It was Friday night, and she was so lonely that the lump that lived in her throat constantly became a boulder she tried to swallow around.

Her cell chimed. It was HIM. How the fuck did he know? She marveled again about his ability to read her mind, even from 5000 miles away.

dildo time, slut. one up the olde poop shoot, the other nice and snuggy in your cunt.

She shivered, gave a little whimper. Just getting a text like that made her begin to seep. No one was around the kiosk. She locked up quickly, hanging the ‘BRB” sign out front, and dashed off for the ladies room. Inside the stall she was panting, and it wasn’t from the quick walk. She closed her eyes, imagined HIM pushing the first dildo into her ass. It was uncomfortable, but not unduly so. The second, larger one, went into her pussy. God she was drenched already. The panel on her panties was very wet from her arousal. Pulling the panties up to help hold the dildo in her pussy, she was just pulling up her jeans when the friggin phone chimed Him again.

put those elastics on your pouty nipples, slut. make them good and hard first, then put a blue elastic on Bert, and a pink one on Ernie.

He had named her tits long ago, because he loved to play with them. He always laughed as he bit her nipples, coming up with erotically nasty stories of what he wanted to do to her two ‘muppets’… but putting elastics on her nipples would make them very, very visible through her work shirt.  A fresh flood of juices from her cunt had her squirming a bit, but again, she complied.

With less than an hour left to  her shift, she tried to make busy work to help pass the time. Shifting around to ease the throbbing ache in her ass and pussy, made her tits shift around, and the extremely sensitive nubbins thrust even further outward.  She could smell herself now, smell the scent of heated pussy all around her. She tried to take deep breaths, but it wasn’t helping. When her relief man came on duty, she scooted out as fast as she could. She needed to get to the bank and drop off the day’s receipts, and to do that she needed to walk across the giant parking lot, up past the used car lot, to the bank. Usually she didn’t mind the walk, but with her pussy and ass filled, her nipples beginning to throb with a mix of pain and needy lust, this would be torture.

Her cell buzzed again just before she left the kiosk.


She shuddered. How the fucking hell was she going to walk a half mile with a butterfly on her clit, and the two dildo’s swishing and rubbing each other inside of her. She groaned audibly.

“everything okay, Susan?” her relief man looked at her curiously.

“fucky ducky” she replied tartly. “i’m heading to the ladies room for a minute.” she passed him the receipts bag, and darted off to the loo.  She managed to get the vibe on without getting undressed again, sliding her arm into her pants and placing it over her clit. A flick of her fingernail set it to humming softly.

The seam of her jeans pushed the thing shockingly hard against her. Walking back to the kiosk she thought she might have an orgasm. The movement of the dildo’s and the vibe had set her on ‘overdrive’ and she was close, so close already.

She had not had her one orgasm allowed her for the week, but she’d been saving it for their video chat tomorrow night, the one night that they meshed and had long hours to spend together with neither needing to be at work the next day.

She was halfway across the parking lot, her body thrumming when the fucking phone chimed again.

“Jayzuz fawking hell now what the fuck will that Man do to me next” she exclaimed, nearly dropping the cash bag.

CUM! Hard, and now…i know you’re walking to the bank with the deposit. CUM, my little fucking slut…cum all over those mini-cocks, cum inside those fucking panties, CUM and wet those tight frikkin jeans of yours…

She was, as always,  an obedient slut. Standing in the parking lot, between a Buick and a Jeep, she came. Legs clenched tight, head bowed, a hand on each car, she shook, she shuddered, she wet her pants with his gift.


You’ve put me on the bed. Kitty corner, so my legs are splayed on each side of the bottom corner. You’ve told me to keep my arms up over my head until you release them for something else.
i am watching your cock move as you move around the bed, looking at me from various angles. I want it in my mouth. You catch my eyes watching Your rod, but you slap my inner thigh, hard. I see your cock twitch. Is it knowing that i’m oogling your manhood or the slap on my tender inner flesh that has begun to arouse your Beast?
“Slut!” you say, but there is amusement in the tone, a  hint of tolerance for now.
my eyes shift to yours.
yes, Sir?
“You will not be having any cock in that slut mouth tonight. I have told you that twice already. I will not repeat myself  again.   Understood, Slut?”
yes, Sir.
my tone is just this side of petulant, earning me another thigh slap. You shake your head at me, and i see You smile. You are glad, i think,  that i lust for that cock you dangle just out of reach of my face. You slide your hands up my sides, then, straddle me, sitting on my belly. It’s right fucking there. i feel my eyes glazing with the want of it.
Your low chuckle makes me look at you, not quite daring to glare a blue blaze at You, but nearly. You cup and fondle my tits, shaping and kneading them. I feel your cock growing against my belly, but don’t dare to break eye contact with You now. i feel you grab my tits, pulling up on the nipples. Your gaze intensifies, digging deeply into my head, gauging my reaction as you move from pleasure to pain. Your hands are so warm, so strong.

i feel the bite of  your fingers grasping each tit, squeezing, and pulling a moan from my mouth. You wear the clamps and chain on your tee-shirt, and they dangle there, mocking me. The chain is heavy. It’s pulling on your shirt. I hear it clink as you move, massaging my chest, pulling and squishing my tits until they are reddened by your attention. My nipples are hard, standing at attention, puckered so tightly that the areola are nearly gone, drawn up into the clenching nipples.
“Now,” you say, and i know what is coming. I try to prepare but how can i? They are swollen and turgid with my lust, and you clamp them unmercifully tight, catching as much flesh as you can under the tight clamp heads. You see my pain, feed off of it. As i adjust to the throbbing, you cant your head a bit, seeing my acceptance, and lift the chain high and tight.

oh FUCK!

it hurts, hurts, and you absorb this too. Pleased to see the complaisance leave my face, and pain wash through me again. I can’t speak, but i mouth at you,

Fucker, Sir. You are a mean fucker, SIR” .
You laugh. Truly you have a macabre sense of humor, Sir.
You slide off of me, slowly backwards, your cock dragging across my mons, down through my slit.
“Your fucking soaked, slut” you say, amazed and amused that You’ve ratcheted up my need so quickly.
Its true. I feel my cunt drooling for you.
“I want a closer look at that cunt, slut. Raise those legs up and open wide for me.”
I flush, embarrassed at being so open, so fucking exposed to you. But i raise my legs, obedient.
“More, slut, grab those ankles and keep those legs up and open for me.”
You peer at me, not touching, but making  a show of inspecting my pink exposed flesh. You sniff the air indelicately.
“Smells like a cunt needing something,” You drawl. I’m so embarrassed now i can barely stand it. The urge to drop my ankles and hide away my private bits is overwhelming. My legs shake at the combination of exposure and being held open for so long. I feel your fingers pulling apart my lips, dipping ever so lightly over the top of my channel. You feel how wet, see how wet you have made me already. I am amazed you can’t hear the pulse beating down there. The throbbing ache intensifies.

You call out to me, forcing my attention on your eyes, again. I’m drowning in You, lost…but You are also a beacon drawing me to explore my own innermost secrets. i feel the anchor of You, breathe deeply. As You hold my gaze, your thumb squashes down on my clit.
Sirrrrr” i moan, eyes thinning to slits, throbbing fiercely in my needy cunt.
“Drop your legs. You know what I want, don’t you Slut. Moreover, I know what you want, little fucktoy. Tell me, slut, tell ME what you want now.”
i press my feet into the mattress, knees up and bent, then drop them open. Your thumb still presses my clit hard, then rubs in small small circles. My hips undulate to your rhythm.
my voice is as clenched as my pussy, but i squeak out

…fuck me Sir. fuck me Sir, i need your hard cock inside of me, pleasse Sir, please Sir…
You are going to fuck me, that’s a given. But giving me permission to ask is Your gift to me tonight. Yes, you have denied me your cock in my mouth, but to have it slamming inside of my needy cunt is a wanton slut-dream, and this night my dream will come true.
You slide up the bed, until You are poised over me. You slide your chin up my belly up between my tits, and i feel your jutting cock tapping at the entry to my seeping fuckhole. As you bite and lick across my tits, you slip the head of your cock in and out of my cunt. Just in, just out. I know better  than to arch to try to get you deeper, but dear goddess You are driving me wild. You see that wildness in my eyes, hear my whispery

 “please, please, please, please, Sirrrrr, please..”

as a low descant to the slurpy sound of your cock popping in and out of me,  in your ears.
“Want more, slut?” you tease.
i am incapable of speech, but nod furiously, my lips forming the words

“Yes Sir”.
You bite my tit, hard, over the clamp, then suck on it,  equally hard. A scream leaks from me;  you are pleased to make me react this way. I am usually quiet in bed, years of silent practice. Usually you can only make me cry out during orgasm, but now you have pricked through that silence and brought another part of me out and into Your arena.
And as i scream, you glide your cock slowly into me. A reward, and i understand that. Tears form and fall from my eyes, streaking the sides of my face with my melting mascara. Used whore. Fucked whore. You drink it in, the tears, the red marks on my tit where your mouth has been.
I feel your cock pulsing, just sitting inside of me, as you did before with my mouth.
“Say it slut.” Your cock, buried in my hot, wet, swollen pussy. i need You, i need You…
“Sir, please fuck your slut. your cunt is dripping for You, ready for you to use as you will…”
You fuck me hard, triumphant. You have made me beg, made me cry. You pound that hard cock deep into my belly, and i rise to each thrust. You take my tit chain  and force it between my lips, then pull my hair until my head pulls back, and back and i’m crying out for the pain in my nipples, the intense pleasure between my swollen cunt lips, the pleasure i know You are getting from your slut…
from between clenched teeth, i beg for, and am allowed, my release.
You push my tits together hard, bury your face in the deep valley there, using your grasp on them to propel you deeper into my fuckhole, and i feel myself spurting around you, through you, it seems. My pussy clamps down hard on you, but you only push harder into me, dragging my flesh along, the friction creating a second ripple that starts before the first is ended.
Arching into the bed, tits, and cunt on fire, i am keening, a loud, high-pitched release of my cumming. And a third ripple takes me from my toes, curled tightly, through my cunt, clenching intensely on you, as you, still buried inside me to the hilt, begin your release deep, so deep inside of me.
Sweat glistens, as we melt together, spent, exhausted, panting. Slowly you take off one clamp, laving my nipple and gently nipping it. You slide up and take my mouth, fucking it with your tongue as your cock has just taken my pussy. I moan, and hide my tongue from you, but this you will not allow. I feel your lips whisper against mine.

 “slut,” you admonish me, and although i want to keep hiding, i give you my tongue. You suck it into your mouth, biting and sucking so hard i think it will be torn  from my mouth. I moan, try to toss my head trying to get away…and you release me. You pull the chain still holding one tit in bondage, and fuck my mouth again, and i know you feel the ripple as yet another small orgasm is pulled from my pussy.
Finally, you release my nipple, and kiss and love it gently. I know what i must do now, and i reach down between my legs to my cunt, earning at last the privilege of your juices.


Today i did it for the very first time.

I shaved my pussy in the tub.

Sounds like such a little thing, but taking a tub in this house is a major undertaking. Two littles, and a tub full of their toys makes a shower faster, easier, and faster. Yes, i know. I repeat myself. Bite me.

So there i am, a little chunk of time on my hands. Kiddo’s watching Barney, elder kiddo on hand to keep an eye out on ’em . . . yeah.

I scoop out handful after handful of toys. I fill the tub with a few inches of water. It’s not too hot, this has to be fast, after all.  I grab my bucket of shower stuff, and my mirror. I sit, savoring the warmth on my ass, my legs, lapping at my pussy. Aaahhh…if only there was more time to be found…

I put one foot up on each side of the tub. No, that’s just not gonna work. Each knee, then. Yes, i’m open wide open. I use my feet to hold the mirror to see into hootchie land.

Grabbing the shaving gel, i squirt a liberal bit onto my mons, then spread it quickly around my lips, all around. Mmmm, smooth, soft, floaty. But this is not a masturbation time, no matter how awesome it is to watch my fingers sliding along my folds, slipping up and down my slit.

I take the razor, and begin. It is a wicked turn-on to watch the yellow head slice slowly up from anus to the top of my cleft, then lift and see all the hair on the first pass. I shave every other shower, and it’s only been three days, but there are area’s that are simply…unattainable in standing position in the shower, yanno? Suddenly my right lip is totally, completely bare. It’s gleaming pinkly. I don’t have  full, succulent pussylips like young chick’s do, but they are not bad, not bad at all for a slut of my years. I rinse and quickly swipe up the other lip. Gawd. I’m so fucking turned on.

I gently separate the folds, and slide the razor deeper into the cleft, feeling a bit ahead of the blade for where the hair is hiding. Then up and around the top of my cleft, around my lower belly towards my mons, at the crease of my legs. Done.

I admire my gleaming, smooth pussy. It’s got that funny dolphin smile, and i notice that i’m oozing fluid from my hole. Who gets turned on by shaving their cunt, i wonder, laughing at myself.

As i rise to take my shower, pussy honey slips down my thigh.

Apparently, i do.

Sick Day

********inspiration is all around me…everything has the makings of a story.  sometimes  i get an idea or a “spark”  from those readers that take a moment to leave a comment. This then is for you, marci.  I enjoyed hearing that you needed a “sick day”  !!

   As always, i invite you, horny reader, to leave me a comment. it’s not necessary, but it’s nice to stroke the storyteller once in awhile..and who knows what “spark” you may generate! ~nilla~

She woke to her alarm, early.  It had been a fucker of a day yesterday. Her boss had gone apeshit over some paperwork glitch, totally not her fault, but he was “venting”. Fuck that. Vent to your secretary, not your section manager. Fucker.

She’d obviously not slept off the foul mood from yesterday. She slid from her sheets, and rose to start her day.

Downstairs, she turned on the teakettle, looking idly out the window towards the greening backyard. Lawn needed to be mowed. Maybe once Drake returned from his business trip he’d get to it.

She booted up her laptop as the teapot began to sing to her. Pouring the tea, she reached for the scone she’d saved from yesterday.  Glazed vanilla bean. Her favorite, and an indulgence she only allowed once every few months. They were addictive. 

She was feeling restless, still mulling over the events of work, thinking about all the things facing her today, when her ‘puter chimed. Her favorite website had a new story. How fun!

She fixed her tea, a dollop of milk with a dash of sugar, and sat down to enjoy breakfast. The scone went down unnoticed as her eyes danced down the lines of the story. It was a long one, and, damned if she wasn’t feeling a bit, well, twitchy. She never got twitchy when her hubby was away. Well, not too often. This was happening so often when she read these posts. Damn. What a potent aphrodisiac, she thought. Who needed female Viagra?

She closed her eyes. Imagined what she had just read, happening to her. Tied, spread-eagled to the big four-poster upstairs, the silken, black rope a sharp contrast to her skin. How the coils of it would look around each wrist, how her arms would look spread so far apart in her queen bed. How utterly helpless.

“How was this sexy?”, she wondered.She was  a strong woman with a leadership job. Yet, she was just about drooling over this scenario. Rising from the table, she dumped the remnants of her tea into the sink, automatically rinsing her mug and setting it to drain. She turned back to the table, and noted the small wet drop on the linoleum. And another on the vinyl 60’s retro ice cream stool where she’d sat.

OMG! She was dripping arousal! She slid her hand to her pussy. She was soaked!  Her finger rode along her slit again, then dipped deeper to find her little bud stirring to life. The flutter from that gentle touch shimmered up inside of her, made her toes curl against the cool tile at her feet. Jeezuz.

She closed the laptop, and scooped it up. She all but dashed upstairs, needing a release. The laptop went onto her desk in the bedroom, and she slipped onto her bed, but not before looking longingly at the sturdy dark posters of her bed. Reaching into her nightstand drawer, she retrieved her butterfly vibe, and her dildo. Rather than tidily laying her head on the pillow, she pushed them aside, and spread herself. Just as she would if she was bound there. 

She tried to imagine the strain on the shoulders, the pull at her hips. Seeing just how open she would be, how totally accessable. She blushed to think how she would react if someone came through her window just then, as had happened in that newest story. If he saw her here, and seized the advantage, and fucked the living daylights out of her, willing or not. Wait, how did that go again? She rose, collecting the laptop and placing in on her bed where she could reread that horny passage. 

         ” It was shock, pure and simple that held her steady as he looped one length of cord around her wrist. Over and around her slenderness, tightening the cord enough that the marks would be visible later, reminding her of his nocturnal visit. He took her other wrist, and wrapped it the same.”

The ripples were dancing in her now, and she slid the dildo in. Easily it entered her needy cunt. No lube needed, she thought with a wicked grin. Just a wicked story…

    “He pulled her upright easily, and led her, protesting and fighting, to the center of the room. Holding the rope securing her hands in his large hand, he threaded it through the ring  that hung just above her head and pulled. Her arms, tied behind her, pulled up by the wrists. She began to bend over to accommodate the pulling on her arms. A long, low moan came from behind her gag as he pulled  her tight. It was an uncomfortable position, to be sure, but he really wanted to make a point with her. This was the best way. A quick, harsh lesson in obedience.”

She scrolled through back stories, all the while plunging the dildo inside of her. She went back to the scene with the black silk ties and the four-poster bed. Gawd. So. Fucking. . . . cl…..ooooooooooooo….MYGAWD…she yelled aloud, body bowing with the force of her orgasm. Tidal waves of pleasure washed through her, around her, and she felt the bedding beneath her moisten with her rushing release. 

Collapsing to the mattress, spent, she gasped in a breath, tried to slow her racing heart.

“Well fuck me if i’m going to work like this,”she thought. Rolling over to her nightstand, she grabbed her cell, and called out. The receptionist was sweet, asking her if she was okay, to which she replied, “a bit shaky, actually. But i’m going to lay here and, see if i can shake it off.” How she got through that little speech without giggling was a wonder.

As she replaced her phone, she pulled the laptop closer.

“Hella sick day, nilla,”  she thought with a smile.


p.s. because marci   “sparked” me with her sick day, i had to write the two previous posts, to be able to drop in ‘quotes’ …so marci ! bueno!! Yay, you inspired all  three stories! Thank you ….. nilla

(finding a way) Out of the Darkness (part 2 of 2)

He stood in the  shadow of the trees looking up into her bedroom. She had stood in that window, framed by the soft light behind her. He had watched her removing her tee-shirt, his cock tightening as it slipped up to reveal two large, meaty tits. Gods how he loved a woman with big tits. It wasn’t the most important thing, but it was right up there.

When she started playing with that long mane of hair, he thought his cock would tear through his zipper, and lead him  like a dousing rod, straight to her pussy.  He imagined her face as he walked in, being pulled by the invisible force of her cunt on his cock. He imagined his own face. He wiped a hand across his eyes. He had to have her. He knew she was frightened, she’d opened enough at last to tell him, in stuttering bits and pieces, of her past relationship.

He watched her move away, and finally the light went off. He gave her more time to drop into sleep, before he climbed the steps that led from the backyard, upwards to the little balcony under her window. He adjusted the backpack he carried over one shoulder, before easing open the screen. He slipped inside.

She was sprawled across the bed, lost in slumber. Perfect. She had mentioned the four-poster bed, an antique from her grandparents estate. The heavily carved walnut posts would hold  through anything, he surmised. Quietly he secured a length of black silk rope to each post, then, gag in hand, he slid onto the bed, and sat on her stomach.

With a gasp she opened her eyes. Wa…. was all she got out before a ball gag was pushed, firmly but gently into her mouth. She tried pulling his  hands away, but he whispered

“hush, hush, little one” and she knew the voice. She froze, no longer resisting, but neither accepting him. It was shock, pure and simple that held her steady as he looped one length of cord around her wrist. Over and around her slenderness, tightening the cord enough that the marks would be visible later, reminding her of his nocturnal visit. He took her other wrist, and wrapped it the same.

Sliding down her body, he leaned forward and lapped at one nipple. It rose quickly and he heard her faint indrawn breath catch, holding. He felt the tension in  her, but sensed her need.  He bit her. Sucking the hardening nipple into the warm darkness of his mouth, he sucked it hard, laving it with his tongue, while holding it captive between his teeth. He felt her struggle to remain still, but his hand over her heart knew the full truth. He felt the trip-hammer beat under his palm. His lips curved around her nipple.

Releasing her flesh, he slid off of her and began winding the silk rope around her ankle. The dark rope was nearly invisible in the dark room, but set against  her pale skin it was a beautiful contrast. Once she was fully tied, he left the bed and began to tighten each cord around the bedpost.

She was spread-eagled on her grandparents bed. He had pulled her so tightly she could not move. She was open to him. He had taken the initiative, had somehow thought she would be receptive to him. How she wished she could prove him wrong. Spit invective at him. But the animal that lay dormant beneath her smooth skin had erupted at his demands, and she was heating. 

He moved around the bed, talking softly to her. Telling her how beautiful she was, tied by his hand, wrapped in his rope, a symbol of his deep desire. How giving herself to him, now was a gift for them both.  He ran his hand up her thigh, the goosebumps following in its wake. He stopped just shy of her pussy, but he felt the heat pumping from there. He smelled her need, felt her need, but craved her final submission.

He removed the gag.

“Say “no”.” He said.

“Say no, and you will be released, and I will not bother you again, sweet slut.”

“Say yes,  little fuck toy, and I will be your guide out of the darkness that you have wrapped around yourself. I will show you the incredible lightness of being owned by one who will cherish your service, and the gift of your submission.”

He left her then, closing the door to her bedroom softly. She faintly heard his steps on the stairs, then nothing but the soft sigh of wind in the trees, the trickling tinkle of the brook, and the hummm of the night.

She pulled at her bonds, her arms pulled so widely apart. Strong from all her physical work, it was, nonetheless, a stressful position after a while. Stretching to pull one shoulder then the other, she eased the tension in her upper body. A breeze blew into the room, and her nipples rose. The one still ached from his teeth, and she felt  her pussy flush with heat, remembering.

Straining, she tried to move her hips, but only her ass moved, up and down on the mattress. He certainly knew his bondage.  The silk cord was soft on her flesh, yet so tight. Pins and needles tingled in hands and feet. Her breath was shallow, her heart racing. She lusted.

He controlled her. He was smooth, no doubt. His hands on her had been sure and steady, but she had felt his cock against her hip as he’d eased off of her. She wanted it. Thirsted for a cock in her mouth, thirsted for him to bury himself inside of her.

The worry was being vanquished by her need. Seven months without sex had taken a toll, yet, six weeks of kindness, of shared intimacies on internet and phone had broken through the barriers she’d put around herself.

He slipped into the room again, so quiet he could have been a shadow.

Yes” she whispered into the darkness, then again, louder…


“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir!”

Snapping on the light beside her bed, he looked down at her. She saw him, a wine glass in his hand.

“A toast then, little one, to new beginnings, and to coming out of the darkness.”

He tipped the glass, spilling wine onto her breasts, her belly, and began to drink.

Finding a Way (part 1 of 2)

She closed her computer down and began to shut the house for the night. Living alone, she had developed a routine to help her settle down, and fall more easily to sleep. She’d read it somewhere, once, that having a “bedtime” routine helped manage insomnia.

Although she worked hard each day, with all the physical demands of working at the greenhouse, there was something missing in her life just now, and that was …sex. She cringed just thinking it. Somehow, masturbating wasn’t cutting it. Since she and  her Master has broken apart ten months ago, she had felt adrift.  She didn’t socialize, didn’t mingle with their old friends, didn’t go to munches. Just hid here, sleepless, lonely, alone.

She felt like she was climbing from a deep, dark pit. The pit was always there, yawning wide behind her, waiting to catch her, pull her back in. She was so afraid of that.

For the last 6 weeks she’d been talking to a new Master. She refused to call him Master, having just begun the relationship. He was different from several other Dom’s she’d been in communication with since she’d  re-profiled on the D/s list.  She didn’t just  miss sex, she realized, pausing with her hand on the banister. She missed the companionship. Needing to be needed. She was so service oriented. Her last Master, towards the end of their relationship, had mockingly begun to call her ‘fetch’.  How she had hated that, his cruelness at the end. Instead of just sitting down and talking through it, he …well, no use going back down that road, she mused, heading into her bedroom.

Before slipping off her tee-shirt, she opened her window to the cool night air. The sounds of the brook running at her property line was a pleasant counterpoint to the chirping of early insects. It was a pleasant sound to fall asleep to. Looking into her shadowed backyard, she lifted the shirt over her head, tossing it onto the chair beside her. She finger combed her long tresses, considered braiding it for bed, before turning from the window, still lost in thought.

She padded into the bathroom, thinking about Sir T, and their recent uptick in conversations. They now spoke every few days on the phone, in addition to the long email she wrote to him each morning, and the one he wrote to her each night. He wanted to meet her, play with her, but she was wary. There was that one bad meet,  just after she and her master had broken up, and she’d been sore, unpleasantly so, for many days. That, and the jerk had obviously never dommed before, because he sure hadn’t been  listening to her. She felt like a punching bag after that encounter, a victim instead of a sexual partner.It had scared her, deeply, in a place she’d never felt fear before.  In her terrible grief, she’d looked for domination in a bad place. She didn’t intend to make that mistake again.

Yet, Sir T was different. He seemed genuinely interested in her life. The funny stories she had from customers, and job site issues. Likewise, he shared tales from his day, the people he met and worked with. He was funny, caring, and would periodically drop sexual teasers into their conversations. 

She might walk down that path again, and maybe sooner than she had thought she ever would. She was beginning to trust again. He said he was a strict Dom, but a kind Master. She thought about that as she  brushed her teeth, looking at herself in the mirror. Her tits were still firm, still with those big nipples she had hated as a teen. She’d not been able to stop her hygiene routine, and her mons was still bare, hairless and smiling that funny smile that bare vagina’s sported. 

Should she let Him in? Should she take that dive off that cliff? Would she wind up back in the deep dark pit? Or would she land right where she was meant to, into the arms of Sir T?

Turning out the light to the bathroom, she slipped across the room and between her sheets. Despite her inner turmoil, she fell quickly and easily to sleep.

She never heard the window screen creak as it was opened slowly from outside.