Yeah, i know, the title says it all, doesn’t it?

It’s one of those so-embarrassing human things we all do. *waves* Hi, i’m nilla…and i fart toot.

Okay, i’m blushing while i write this. Oh, and i should add this to set the stage, perhaps? Master sent me a short email at noon today (Tuesday)…”any writing that happens after 1 pm must be done with your butt plug in place. Wouldnt’ want your ass to ‘forget’ …”

I see your ears and eyes perking up.

Forget? Forget what, nilla?! A few of you are jumping up and down going ‘tell us tell us!”

Okay, i got mega fucked in the butt. . .and, um, i liked it. The hardest part is that first entry…breaking through, right? and getting your body to take it, and not let your hiney think ‘hey there’s something in the poop shute and i gotta push it outta dere….” It simply won’t work. OH, you can push all you wanna, but when He puts His cock in the asshole, it stays until He wants it out.

He played this little game. The pop in and out game. In pop. Out pop. In pop. Out pop. Like…ow.

“why do you Dom’s like this little game, Master?” i said. Maybe i might’ve even whined a bit about it.

“What game is that, slut?”

“You know, Master.” i feel the blush starting somewhere around my navel. i hear silence, and if ever silence is demanding, it’s Dom silence!

He pushed back inside my ass, and i grunt. I’m blindfolded, and can’t see what He’s doing. My ass hangs over the edge of the bed, my legs up on His shoulders, and damned if He doesn’t pop out again!

“That! Right there, that, Master. That popping in and out of an asshole…”

“Is that right?” He drawls. “Like this?” He pops out, then in, then out..(is this getting repetitious yet?)

“yes, yes YES…”  i mewl out, arching my back as He continues to pop his cockhead in and out of my ass.

“And other Doms do this? You know this for a fact?”

I swear, the Man is fucking my ass, and we’re talking like a couple over the breakfast table. Tho my voice was several octaves higher than it usually is at breakfast. He was calm, controlled, and greatly amused.

“Really? This?”

In.  Out.  In.  Out.   In. Fucks hard.

“Oy…!!! Yessss…Master i’m cumming….”

sounds of satisfied Master laughter…


So all that in and out has a natural, normal HUMAN outcome. It’s kind of the same theory as a balloon pump, really. A plunger pushes air up the chamber and into the balloon….and if the plunger is pulled out (eventually)…the balloon will release the air previously pushed in.

Ergo, the fart.

Eventually, He changes position, stacks some pillows on the bed, and hauls me (like a rag doll!) around the bed and up onto the pillows, on my back.  (and more science…heated air rises, and my ass was now higher than my head. Stop laughing, i can hear you…)

He starts slowly now, fucking deeply into my ass, and i feel it coming.

The fart.

“OHMYGOD MASTER! i’m gonna fart…” and i am beet red, and He’s snorting and laughing at me…and He pulls out and encourages me to “fart away” or some such.

By now i’m so embarrassed that i can barely stand it, giggling and blushing and sweating and and and….

no fart.

Can’t make it happen, maybe i giggled it back away. He gets up and goes away, i hear water running. He returns and slides his cock deep into my pussy.

Ohgod…so good so good. i’d had a bunch of orgasms while he fucked my butt. It’s strange, and naughty and so intense…and yes, as Himself says…i’m an ass-fuck-slut…coming like crazy whenever He sticks his dick up my backdoor.

But having His cock in my pussy, which had been clenching and clamping on nothing…feeling neeeeeedy for His thickness inside of me…oh so good. So good. I’m pressing up as best i can with my ass raised on the pillow, and i feel it building… a giant orgasmic wave building inside of me…

and i fart.

Not a dainty little girl fart, but a big old Dom  Man   fart.

You’d think that’d be the biggest turn off ever, right? He laughs, the Bastard. Then i hear it. I shake my head, no. No. No.

“You’re going to blog this, right little girl?”

Hell no….

Make New Friends…(1)

She wasn’t certain she remembered going to bed. When had Nick left? Had she fallen asleep waiting for Shane to come to bed? She felt a bit muzzy-headed, something that always happened when she drank that damn Mexican beer they liked. Nick’s girlfriend had been fun to talk to, they’d shared stories of the guys, of any guys, and that’s when things got fuzzy.

She thought she remembered going to bed.

But why was she naked?

More importantly, when had Shane tied her to the bedposts? She lay sprawled, open. She felt wet, and horny. Beer always made her so fucking horny. Or maybe it was tequila…she forgot. But her pussy felt wet, slick, swollen.

She could feel her heartbeat in her clit. Her palms were sweaty, and her bangs were plastered to her forehead. But where the fuck was Shane? It was pretty dark in the room, though there was light coming through the slats of the blinds. She tugged at whatever held her to the bed. Maybe he’d gotten up to piss, and passed out.

Maybe he was hurt?

She tugged harder, then called out…”Shane?”

Her voice was a throaty rasp of sound, granite and sandpaper. She coughed, cleared her throat. “Shane?” A bit better. The bedroom door creaked open.

“hey kitten, I’m back!”

The sing-song tone alerted her…it wasn’t Shane, it was Nick’s girlfriend. She struggled to remember her name. Carla? no, that wasn’t it. Karen? no…

A sharp slap on her inner thigh startled her. She’d not seen it coming and hadn’t expected it. “Say hi to Mistress, kitten.”

A rush of memories flooded her. Blurs of sensation tangled with fragments of sight and sound. Smooth thighs on either side of her head, soft wet lips and slick folds rubbing against her mouth and nose. The taste of another woman’s cunt on her tongue.

She remembered her mouth being tired, aching with the task of bringing her off, as her own nipples were pulled and slapped, squeezed and pinched. Remembered bucking her hips fruitlessly as that cunt pressed hard on her mouth, and flooded her with Mistress’s cum.

And she remembered Mistress’s mouth on her pussy, bringing her to a powerfully intense orgasm.

“I’m back, sweeting. The boys are still passed out in the living room, and I ran out to the car to get my toybag.  Never travel without it…coz I just never know when I’m going to need to fuck someone, you know?”

Her voice was cultured and rich, a sharp counterpoint to the crudeness of her language.

“I’ve found my funnest cock, kitten, one that will fuck us both at the same time. First, a change in position here.”

She felt a fumbling around her right ankle, then her leg was pulled up high over her head. She was doing a very uncomfortable “split” in the air, and she whimpered.

“Oh buck up, kitten,” Mistress said, a verbal slap every bit as strong as her palm had been. In minutes, her left leg was repositioned. It never occurred to struggle. To argue. She lay there, accepting.

Folded in half, her pussy, ass, thighs were vulnerable. Muzzy still from drinking, and horny, she quivered.

“Mmmm, ass on the half-shell,” Mistress chuckled slyly. “Before your fucking, a bit of preparation, then.” She brought the end of a crop down sharply against a soft thigh, gleaming white in the dim room. She worked her way down that succulent flesh, around the curving bottom, and up the other cheek and thigh. The ‘kitten’ was whimpering and moaning, but the smell of hot pussy was heady, and overpowering.

She licked her lips, and threw aside the whipping tool.

She slicked the faux cock along wet folds, while manicured nails poked at a tightly puckered asshole. The surprise of the dual sensations confused her little toy, and when the sphincter relaxed, she shoved her dildo into the heart of the little brown rosebud.

“oooooeeeeee!” cried Kitten as the cock slid in, stretching and burning her rectum with its intrusive force.

Mistress began thrusting, Hammer-fucking her big dick into the tiny asshole, grunting as she was fucked by the opposite end in her pussy.

“So. Fucking. Good.” She grunted as she fucked.  She heard soft mewling cries, and knew she’d named the little slut ‘kitten’ aptly. There was nothing like the tears of a subbie taking it deep and hard up the ass…

She moaned as she came hard.

She slid the dildo free, slipped it into the throbbing cunt that glistened, wet and shiny.  She fucked that little pussy hard, fast, deep, until she felt the shaking rocking of her toy. As she had before, her little kitten threw back her head and gritted her teeth…

This was a new experience for her, something she had never had before as a Mistress….a quiet-cumming slut!

Her little sissytoy nick was always so loud whenever she let him cum.

Signed (7)

She stood frozen as Reggie stared at her. She thought, maybe even hoped, that she might die of embarrassment. His looking was thorough…down..pause…down…pause again…all the way to her pink-tipped toenails, then slowly his gaze swept up. She closed her eyes, hoping he would disappear.

He didn’t.

He stepped towards her. She had no idea of what to do. How does one handle being naked in a strangers kitchen while his butler, if that was his title, oogled one? Her chin shot higher, her eyes flashing as he stepped into her comfort bubble.

She was so very not comfortable.


He stepped around her, opened the fridge. His voice came from inside the cavernous interior as he rummaged for a sandwich.

“Yup, gotta give him points, you’re a well put together package.”

She flushed at the droll tone. She looked over her shoulder. He was still half inside, fingering one white-wrapped package after another. She took a tentative step towards the door. And another.

His next words stopped her cold.

“Not sure how you did it, catching him like that.”

She whirled around, anger helping her forget that she was naked as the day she was born. She stomped to the fridge, poked him in the back.

“I did not “catch” him,” she said, reverting to her air quotes. “He,” and she emphasized that with exquisite diction, “caught me!”

“uh huh.”

She growled. She’d never growled in her life. “Who do you think you are? Making judgements about something you know nothing about? Huh? who?” and she poked him again.

He spun about so fast, grabbing her wrist that she gasped. Trying to draw her arm away was fruitless. His grip was like a steel trap.

“May I remind you that I’m not the one standing naked in a man’s kitchen? You are. Looking for all the world like the…what…hundred bucks a night? ..whore you are.”

She gasped. She was shocked. Horrified. She pulled at her wrist as he glared at her.

“Let me go you stupid …monkey!”

He pulled her across the kitchen, sat in a chair and pulled her firmly over his lap, releasing her wrist and grabbing a fistful of hair at the back of her head. Pressing her head down with the one hand, he began spanking her round bottom with the other.

She could not believe it. She’d never, ever been spanked before. Ever. She struggled, she fought, but his hand in her hair didn’t allow for much movement. Her head hurt, but her ass was beginning to hurt a whole lot more.

“O! OW!” she cried as the continuous blows began to make a painful imprint. He hit the same fucking spot over and over. Soon her cries of ouch and oh were exchanged for whimpers of ‘please, please’..and eventually, sobs. She lay slumped in his lap, ass throbbing and crimson, heated to the touch. She cried hard as his hand pulled her up by her hair, and pushed her off his lap to land in a heap on that burning ass, on the cool floor.

She looked up at him, reproachful, yet wary. He was glad he’d not broken her, Cam would have his ass if he had. But damn she needed to  be taken down a notch or two.

The sound of clapping from the doorway broke the tableau.

“Nice. You two are getting to know each other better, I see. Slut, and that, by the way, is your  name while you are here,” he added, “Reggie is my right hand man, and what he says goes. Always assume, when he tells you something? That it came direct from me.”

“B-but…” she began.  He forestalled her with a raised palm and a look that meant shut up.

She shut up.

“Reg, she may act the whore, but in truth she is not. She is property that I have purchased. Someone I’ve wanted for quite some time, and through certain circumstances, has come into my possession.  The only benefit, other than our company, that she will win when her time here is over, is freedom from the man she married.”

Reg looked at his friend, his employer. His brow raised.

“You bought her?”

“I have an arrangement with her husband that is to our mutual benefit. Her husband will be free, as will my slut.”

“She going to strut around here like that all the time?” He threw his chin towards her, sprawled on the floor in hose and heels.

Cam nodded, smiling. “I know it’s asking a great sacrifice to have you put up with it, but yes, this is how I want her to be.”

“Wait…wait a minute..” she interjected. “Y-you said this was a boon. I thought it was for today..”

“Today, tomorrow, the tomorrow after that…” he drawled, laughter in his voice.

Her mouth gaped open. Damn the man for leaving her fish-faced once more.


i simply don’t know where to begin! So much stuff was crammed into one full day…i went to a garden…an estate run by the Horticultural Society, and spent a lovely hour walking paths filled with all kinds of gorgeous plants, and got to see a ton of my personal favorites, daylillies. Add a hummingbird, and small flock of wild turkeys, and a cloudy, blessedly cool day, and it was heaven.

From the front portico, i stood looking over the view below me…the reservoir, the mountain behind…lovely in the misty morning air.  i called Master, since i still had no idea of the “when” of our meet, only the where.

He invited me to come early and we’d hang out at our starbucks…which we did for several hours. We talked and i teased, and was generally a naughty silly girl. For which i would pay dearly for, later.

We went to the hotel at last, and had a few minutes to settle into the room. i didn’t dare even kiss Him, coz i knew where that would lead…so i unloaded my stuff, and got my gear ready, but didn’t change out of my streetwear, including sneakers and sox. I was protecting the “piggies” as He calls my toes. I gave him my toybag, and He already had that look in His eye.

You know the one, right?

And i got my glasses off and then He was on me, and we fell to the bed, a tangle of limbs. He pinned me as he bit my lips and hiked up my skirt.

“Little slut! You’re wet already,” he says, embarrassing me, and making me even more turned on. And of a sudden, His fingers are in my pussy and He’s finger fucking me fast and He growls “NO CUMMING” and gawd. I’m bucking and writhing and trying to get away…i can hear my voice mewling and begging and finally, He relents and i cum. But of course, just like in my stories? He doesn’t stop fucking me. He pushes right through that orgasm, and the next four or five.

Yes. Four or Five. Lost count about the time i lost the top of my head…

Can you say spaced out? Coz trust me, i was half-way to Jupiter, no space suit required.

He gets up, calm and cool, looks down at me with a dark gleam in His eye. He’s already got me in my place, limbs sprawled, gasping for air, weak in every limb.

“Look at you, you little whore.” And He laughs.

“i am YOUR whore, Master,” i respond, but my voice is dreamy soft and weak.

“I’m going to get ice,” He says, and starts looking for the ice bucket. Takes Him awhile to find it, and i was too blotto to help. I hear the door open and close, and toe off my sneakers. One–thunk. Two–thunk.

For now, my piggies are “safe”…or so i think. Slowly, i get up off the bed, and He pounces…

“OH! PIGGIES!” He says, jumping out from behind the wall which He’d ducked behind.

OMFG! I turn and leap for the bed, attempting to hide my feet under the pillows. Did He leap on the bed and grab my ankles?

Hell no He didn’t. He held out His hand, snapped His finger and said (in a quiet, firm, COMMANDING tone) “give me your foot.”

And then He peeled off my sock and proceeded to torture it. Um, my foot, not the sock! Running his finger softly and what might be mistaken for “tenderly” up the sole of my foot, over and around the tops of my toes, and the dreaded between the toes. All the while making soft “hmmmm” noises to Himself, totally ignoring my shreeks and whimpers and attempts to get away. The Man has a grip of steel.

This time there was no “sporking” of my feet…but i’m under advisement to expect it next time we’re together.

ah, fuck.


A lot of “stuff” happens when we are together in the same place…lots of pinching, squeezing, spanking. Sometimes when it is least expected. He’s working on getting me more fit, and so He grabs my “spare tire” and pinches it fiercely, “so you’ll remember when you’re tempted to eat something…” -isn’t He the clever Man?

I have a ring of bruises around my middle now, and soon will break out my workout video and work on shaping my shape. He’s subtle, i’ll give you that.


He loves me for who i am, but He refuses to let me backslide and put back the weight i’ve lost. He takes owning me seriously…so how can i be less than serious about maintaining and improving His property?

The photo sessions (oh, some great shots for future HNT’s…) are a chance to touch and tease and play…and there is this…bristling intensity about Him as He moves me, and watches while i try some ideas…and oh…that intensity gets used up later.  i love watching Him play with me this way…it’s an unexpected bonus to see Him in this light.

There is more, oh, so much more to share about this, but for now i want to hold the experience close to me and guard it, and hug it and dream of it….later, not too long later, i’ll write the post that He has charged me with, the one about the fart.





Not Afraid of the Dark

this is not a relationship piece, nor happy ever after, even. It’s pure, raw, unvarnished, dark D/s sex. Here be  very large dragons…~n~

She called the number from the card she’d gotten at the last munch. On it was just enough information to tantalize, and that, she supposed, was the point.

Not afraid of the Dark (side)? We can help with that.

Not getting enough from Him to twist your nickers? We can help with that.

Not getting hurt, bruised, beaten and fucked to meet your wildest, darkest dreams?

We can help with that.

On the backside, a phone number.  Okay, she did have dark and wild fantasies. She wondered how much of that she wanted to keep fantasy, and how much was true primal animal sex need. She’d been Masterless for  a long while, had played around a lot. Spanked, or fucked, whipped or tied, all the play she’d had for ages was on the “light” side. Doms who needed a bottom for a scene during a play party, that sort of thing.

But this?

This intrigued, even as it scared. Her pussy felt the familiar tingle that fear gave her. She’d been carrying the card for close to a month, taking it out, reading and re-reading it, and putting it away.

She listened to the trill in her ear as the phone rang again. After 5 rings, voicemail picked up the call.

Are you afraid of the Dark?

You should be.

Leave your name and number if you dare.

She hung up. The dark, deep and disturbing voice sent a shock of chills up her spine. She felt her pussy grow damp as she stared at her phone and the card in her hand. She hit redial, and spoke quickly, quietly into the phone,

“Melanie. 5558883”

This time when she hung up, she felt tremors run from her fingers to her clit.

It took less than five minutes for her phone to buzz an incoming call. Number, blocked.


“Melanie…you’re a very brave little girl, aren’t you?”

She drew in a shuddering breath at the newly familiar voice.  “Yes.”

“This isn’t a pretty little meet n greet at the Briars. This isn’t a little coffee klatch at Moonpennies.  This the real deal.”

He went on to tell her what to do, where to go, and hung up on her. No details about what would happen. How long or how intense things got or if there was a safe word and all those other questions were nipped cleanly in the bud.

She had two choices. Show up, or not.

***   ***   ***

The shorter-than-short skirt was one she’d only worn once before. It barely, only just barely, covered the bottom curve of her ass. Her shirt was a tee-shirt, with short cap sleeves. The bottom had been raggedly cut to her midriff, exposing her belly button. The hose was held up by garters that were exposed by the shortness of the skirt, and the 5 inch heels were absurd–and sexy.

She parked her car in the corner of the lot, where two broken lights cast a dark circle. Her headlights swept the lot, and then plunged it back into inky blackness when she turned off the engine. She got out of the car, locking it, and looped her purse around her shoulder.  she stood, uncertain, heart pounding.

From the street came the slash of lights as a dark van cruised slowly past the lot, and kept going. She followed the trail of the back lights as it turned right and went down the other road, then the return of light as it turned into the parking lot from the opposite side.

Her heart was pounding now, a heady mix of adrenaline and fear and, incredibly, lust.

The van slowed to a stop and the lights went out. The side door opened and suddenly there was a blur of movement. Something was pulled over her head, arms grabbed her and threw her into the vans interior.

“Go go go…” came the urgent tones of the one who held her down, and the van skidded out, turned left and sped down the road.

What if this wasn’t…o gawd, was she being kidnapped…The thoughts zinged around her head, even as she began to struggle.  Hands were touching, reaching up under her skirt, touching her cunt, pinching her tender inner thighs, and more hands ripping apart her shirt, grabbing fistfuls of tit and squeezing cruelly.

She heard a strange sound and then felt something wrapping around her throat. she realized it was tape, thick duct tape, holding the bag over her head. It was hard to breathe, her hair was everywhere, and the hands were pinching and hurting and everyfuckingwhere.

“Fuckin’ cunt is wet.”

Fingers jabbed into her fuckhole, making her yelp. They fucked in and out hard, fast, deep. She cried out, moaning and whimpering. Her hips were grabbed, lifting her ass up and impaling her on a fat cock. His hips jabbed at her, rocking back and forth like a jack hammer. He was pounding and grunting, his fingers squeezing around her ass, pulling her onto him, even as he hammered into her.  Her head and shoulders banged along the bottom of the van. She felt the stretch around his thickness, and savored, for a moment, the complete fullness she felt there.

Fingers pinched at her nipples, pulling her tits by them, and while they were pulled up, slapped at them. Hard back and forth slaps, and the mix of pleasure, of pain sent her spiraling up into her first frenzied orgasm.

The cock inside her pulsed and released his seed. He pulled out and pumped more of his hot sauce onto her belly, her tits, and dropped her bottom back onto the floor of the van.

The van stopped with a jerk, and she heard the sound of the side-door opening. she was pulled up by her nipples, forced to move or have them ripped from her body. Staggering in the heels, and blind, she followed like an obedient puppy. Hands slapped at her ass, and her head. A finger slid inside her slick cunt and pulled her forward that way.

The ground grew uneven under her feet and she stumbled. They laughed, forcing her along. She heard crickets, and wind soughing through trees.  And then they stopped. Hands were pulled away and she was alone, untouched.

“Hello?” she called though her voice was raspy. Her hands reached up to her throat and began unwinding the tape. It took some time, but she finally unwrapped herself, freeing her head. She sucked in lots of the cool evening air, feeling a little shiver run through her. She couldn’t see a fucking thing. But she was naked except for the hose and shoes. Even her purse was gone.

“hello? please?”

There was a hiss behind her, followed by the sharp painful burn across her back!

“Walk. Forward.” The voice came from behind her.  Another slash of the whip stung her ass and hip.

“OHGOD!” she yelped, darting forward on shaking legs.

She moved jerkily through the dark woods, but he never missed with the whip. Ass, back, legs, and twice, her tits received stinging blows.

“She loves to be kissed,” came one voice behind and to the right.

“She’s gonna love a lot of things after tonight,” came a voice from the left.

Ahead there was a faint glimmer of light.

“Get up on the platform, bend over it.” She moved into the clearing, and saw what looked like a sawhorse. She went up to it, pressing herself over it.

There was a hand rubbing her ass, even as she saw feet come to stand in front of her. A fist grabbed her hair, lifting her up.

“Open that fucking pie hole and suck. Do a fucking good job with my dick or you’ll be sorry you were even born.”

Her heart beat fast. This was not what she had imagined. A thick-headed cock butted her lips peremptorily. She opened her mouth wide, and still she felt a tiny split begin where her top and bottom lip met, the sharp copper tang of blood as it tore on his hard thrust into her. Then she was far more concerned about snatching a breath as her mouth was raped.

Choking on a throatful of cock took most of her attention, but when she felt the press of another cock at her asshole, she began struggling to push it out, to scream her denial of this. No lube, no prep, just a hard cock preparing to screw her ass.

He grabbed fistfuls of hair and began fucking her mouth like a pussy. Slam, out, slam, out, making her dizzy with lack of air. Tears formed and ran unnoticed down her face. Snot slid down her nose, over her lips, adding a gross lubricant to his forced fucking of her face. Her lips were swelling, hurting, cut on her teeth with every press of his pelvis against them.

His cock pressed into her throat, as the second cock broke through her anal ring and banged up into her fanny. She screamed at the pain of it, making her assailant groan.

“Aaah…so fuckin’ gooood babydoll when you scream like that. Fuck her ass hard again, bro, I’m loving what it does for her oral skills”

He pulled out, and fucked in hard and deep, matching the pace of the giant up her ass pipe, and she screamed again. Her butt was a burning tunnel of pain as the invading cock reamed her.

Her belly was rubbed raw over the old wooden sawhorse as she was dicked at both ends. At long last the two assailants filled her with their cream.

Once more she was pulled up by her hair, and led over to a thick-trunked tree.  Her welted back was pressed hard into the nubbley bark, making her cry out in pain, and her wrists were pulled backwards to the back of the tree. She felt thick cuffs wrap around her, but her attention now was on the man standing in front of her. Light shone onto her face, leaving his in darkness.

“Afraid of the dark yet, pussycat? You will be.”

His fingers dove up into her pussy, fucking her hard and brutally. Fast as a piston, he pumped in and out of her, until she felt her orgasm slam through her.

And still he didn’t stop.

“You’ve got plenty more where that came from” He spoke through gritted teeth, punching his fingers up inside of her. Her cunt was convulsing again before she knew it, his fingers never stopping as she flew through orgasm after orgasm.

She screamed when his fist popped inside of her, and he began fisting her roughly. That cum was intense enough to make her light-headed. Finally he pulled his hand out with a pop, wiping his sticky fingers through her hair, across her face.

“Such a fucking dirty cunt, coming all over a stranger’s hand like that.”

He started slapping her tits. “Bad girl.” Slap slap. “naughty little whore.” Slap slap. “What a dirty cunt.”

The slapping continued, as she began sobbing, as her tits bruised, and ached.

He pinched her nipples hard.

“She’s ready.” And he moved away.

He was big. Tall. Frightening in the dark. He held the large safety-pin up into the light so she could see it.

“Your souvenir.”

He pinched her nipple, then flicked it with his fingers until it was tender and hard.

“Nono…oh no…no no..” she whimpered and wailed.

“Please, scream, whore. We love that.”

He flicked open the pin and slowly, deliberately pressed it through her nipple. Her scream was loud, and made them all draw closer, smiling.

He closed the pin.

His mouth caressed her other nipple, sucking and nipping it to hardness, as he blew on the wet flesh. He flicked open the second pin, and drove it, fast and roughly , through it.

The world tilted, hot fire licking through her tits at the torture. She screamed again, sharp and shrill.

He stepped away. Another came to take his place, and pressed his belly against hers. She felt a cock probing at her cunt, and then slip inside. He fucked her hard, her back banging against the tree bark, feeling it digging into her flesh. His hands pressed and worried at the pins in her nipples, making her cry and moan at the pain.

And she came, hard.

She lost count of how many came and fucked her as she struggled against the ropes that held her to the tree, then gave up. Her thighs were coated with the runnel of male seed seeping from her throbbing holes.

The darkness of the night began to wane, the faintest twinges of dawn beginning to paint the eastern sky when she was released. The van drove her back to her car, but before she was released, a fat plug was shoved up her throbbing asshole. A flick of a switch set it to vibrate, and the sound of duct tape being pulled from a roll filled her ears.

A long piece covered her asscrack up over the plug in her ass, over her pussy and up her belly. Other pieces went across the tops of her thighs, so she could only take tiny steps like a geisha. A third piece went across her mons.

A fist in her hair drew her up to a sitting position, as her ass trembled with the thick invader quivering inside of her.

“That stays in until the battery dies. Got it, whore?”

Her nod of assent followed quickly. The door opened, and she was pushed unceremoniously outside. Her purse, and a tee-shirt followed.

she never did remember the drive home, the quick mincing steps  up her walkway, her contorted movements as she moved as quickly as she could up the stairs to her apartment. She fell into bed and slept all Saturday, waking in the wee hours of Sunday morning.

The darkness in the room greeted her like a lover. Her nipples screamed with pain, her ass and pussy pulsing.  The vibe in the plug taped into her throbbing asshole was still rattling, albeit more gently now. The battery was dying, and soon she would be allowed to peel the tape from her flesh, and release that final torment.

She was confused….turned on and hurting, really hurting,  a newly discovered duality of sensation. She ran her fingers over the safety pins that pierced her nipples so painfully, flicking them ever so gently. Even that gentle touch sent ripples of heated hurt up through her breasts.

She knew now it wasn’t the dark she was afraid of.

It was herself.



Tonight my blog broke the 175,000 mark by almost 100 hits…Wow.

I know, i said that already. And i know, yeah yeah, webcrawlers etc…but still…i can be happy about this sort of milestone…and i am.

Thank you, loyal readers, subsisters/brother(s), the accidentally-sent, the curious.

i’m totally psyched!!

Hugs all around, twirling and happy dancing (nekkid of course)…


Signed (6)

She knew he was around somewhere but she was too mortified to go looking for him.

She had sat while he’d unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it from her, giving him his fucking ‘boon’ damn him to hell.

Then he’d pushed her from her chair and sat, one leg crossed over the other knee, arms crossed, and watched as she continued stripping for him.

It was unsettling to peel off clothing in the full light of day. He’d had her take off her slacks, her shoes, her knee highs, leaving her the dubious sanctuary of her bra and panties. He’d gestured for her to turn in a slow spiral, his face expressionless. When her back was to him, he told her to unhook her bra, and lower it, teasingly. He never said the words “strip tease” but oh, it hung there in the room over her head.

She was so fucking embarrassed!

She never did this for her husband. She’d never done it for anyone. She took off her clothing in the privacy of the bathroom. Not that she was shy about her body, it was okay. Her left tit was bigger than the right, something that had caused a brief period of consternation when she was a teen, but she got over it in her 20’s. Her belly was softly rounded. While she wasn’t much overweight, ice cream had definitely contributed to a bit of extra flesh here and there. She shook her head. Why was she thinking about this now?

She slid one strap from over her shoulder,  then the other. She reached behind finally, and unhooked the bra, and paused. Leaning forward slightly, allowing her tits to swing free and be seen a tiny bit, she let the bra slide down her arms to her wrists. Slipping her left hand free, it dangled on her right wrist for a moment, then another.  With a shake, and a wiggle of her hand, the bra was finally tossed to the side, even as her arms crossed protectively over her chest.

“Release your hair.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. His eyes were devouring her. She lifted her arms, pulling out the pins that held her chignon in place. A wealth of hair began falling, layers of waves. Some danced around her ears, others fell as far as her lower back.

She wanted to pull some forward, to cover her naked breasts, but didn’t quite dare.


His words were terse, a bit dark. She thought he was cruel to push away this final barrier.

“This is a really big boon,” she said, her back to him, her arms to her sides.

“Those are very tiny panties. So, not too big a boon, n’est pas?”

This time she heard the laugh in his tone. Bastard. Pig. Fuck.

Slowly she peeled down the thin layer, leaving her fully exposed.

“Turn for me. Slowly.”

When she was facing him, he crooked a finger at her. Reluctance written all over her form, she took one step, then another. Her throat was thick with some undefined emotion. She couldn’t speak, nor swallow it away.

His finger raised to touch one nipple, then the other, standing at full mast. She was confused by the answering pull deep inside her pussy.  His hands went to her hips, pulling her closer, and his lips took in her left nipple, sucking deeply. Her eyes half-closed, she almost moaned. His tongue twirled around the hard peak of her breast, his hands kneading her hips gently.

Then he pushed her back, and stood. A fast swat on her butt made her open her eyes.

“Go play, little girl. I’ve got things to attend to.”

With that, he’d stepped around her, scooping up her clothing in one big hand, and walked from the room. At the door he paused, but didn’t turn.

“STAY naked, capiche?”

He didn’t wait for her reply, but strode out.

Now here she stood, naked, and embarrassed, and nervous. There was that other guy…Reggie. Was he in the house too? Which was to be her room? Could she hide there?

She heard footsteps coming closer before she could move. The door swung open, and as if thinking of him had conjured him there,  Reggie walked into the kitchen. He stopped dead.

And smiled.


Good morning fellow pervie reader! You’re up and reading my blog…..and i’m up and primping.

Yes, primping.

Finally, after a long, interminably long 7 weeks, nilla and her Master are getting some play time.

Am i nervous? Geeze. What kind of question is that?

of course i’m nervous!!!

Did you know that? Nerves always flutter in my tummy, as i slide my sapphire eyeliner under my lower lashes. Anticipation makes my mouth dry as i paint on my lipstick. Nerves make my hand shake as i secrete my phone in my bra, make sure nothing can be seen in my knitting bag. Gods forbid my ass plug finds its way to the top–and i have to explain that it’s a radical new pom-pom maker!!

My tummy clenches at the thought of His mouth biting into my shoulder. He takes a no-holds-barred attitude about this, and it is intense and erotic and delightful and painful. I anticipate, and crave, and yes, fear it a little too. It. Fucking. Hurts.

Really erotically charged, grade A hurt.

My ass trembles at the promise of being forked, spanked purple, and fucked.

As i walk out the door, slip into my car, i wonder, what kind of person does this…TTWD…goes off to be brutalized. Longs for it. Yearns for it. Needs it so fucking badly? You know i think this every single time.

And i smile…i know what kind of person needs this…

i do.

A slut.

A mommy.

A wife.

A knitter.

A writer.

A friend/sister/daughter/cook/gardener/hippie/50+ horny slut….

all of the parts that make me, me?

Needs this.

Enjoy your Sunday, fellow pervie folks…i know i’ll be enjoying mine! You know, perhaps, this being Sunday and all…i need to spend some extra time in bed….


Don’t Lose That Number

i’ve been having a fun little run this past few weeks, interspersing stories that have a relevant song to go with them. Nothing like Steely Dan to bring me down memory lane…and inspire this little stand-alone piece…enjoy! ~n~)

She stared at the number in her hand. The square drink napkin carried two circles on it, where their wine glasses had rested. The edge that pressed against her thumb was worried and wrinkled from her nervous rubbing of it while they had talked. And in the center where the two rings lapped, was a number.

His number.

It had been their second meeting. Thinking back, she recalled how excited and nervous she had been…

She was on pins and needles getting ready. For the first time accepting his orders as to her dress, her underwear, the way her hair was arranged.

When she was done, she looked at the stranger in the mirror. The sexy, sensual stranger. Her make up was more intense than she usually wore it, her clothing a bit snugger, and definitely more revealing. There were no panties beneath the snug black dress, and really? There was very little dress. The back criss-crossed in strappy splendor, thin lines so fragile they looked as if a strong thought would break them.  The front, deeply cowled, was held by a single gold chain that  revealed her cleavage and a good deal of boob.  Her stockings were nearly transparent, black silk, held in place by two beribboned garters. Her heels were sleek and black, as strappy as the back of the dress he had sent to her.

She’d never known she could look so overtly sexual. Turning her head from side to side, she pulled a face at herself, then brushed her hair into a sleek ponytail. Gold earrings,  long falls of chain swung at her ears, the longest section almost brushing her bare shoulders.

Taking up her little black purse, she walked out of her room and headed to the front door. He was always punctual, she knew. He’d told her so over the five weeks they had im’ed and emailed each other, and had proven it by being at their last meeting exactly at the time He had said.

 ***  **   ***

Looking at the napkin now brought it all back, the way she had felt so damn sexy walking out her door, sliding into her car, pulling out of her driveway. Even sliding out at the restaurant, the tug of the back hem against her naked ass reminded her why she was there.

They were interviewing each other. Their first meeting had been a fast coffee run. Hi, how are you, so that’s  what you smell like, taste like, as they kissed upon leaving the coffee bar.

This, their second meeting would be dinner. Something intimate. More getting-to-know-you time. And a time to test out their chemistry a bit further.

When the evening ended and they had parted, she’d been left with a flurry of sensations; but most keenly she felt an aching sense of loss, and a deep hunger. She’d not wanted to drive away, not at all. He’d insisted, however, and handed her the napkin. He’d kissed her before she drove off, and spoke just four words to her…”don’t lose that number.”

She set the napkin on her knee, tracing the red-wine circles in lazy figure-eights. And remembered.


When she was met by the maitre d’, his eyes had slid appreciatively down her body-  only for a moment-but confirming what her own eyes had told her. He had guided her across the busy dining area to a quiet, secluded corner.   She couldn’t wait for the Mister to see her. He’d risen from the table when she arrived.

The look on his face soothed away any lingering doubts.  His smile appeared first in his eyes, then beamed across his face.


It was all he said, but it was everything.

Taking her wrist, he pulled her into the corner seat of their booth.  The maitre d’ himself poured her Shiraz from the bottle chilling on the table, while noting silently to himself that the Monsieur had carefully lifted mesdemoiselles skirt before she sat. He wondered about her bottom sitting there on the old leather, wondered if later there would be a wet spot remaining, to perfume the air long after she departed. It gave him a delightful frisson of lust to think so.

She had blushed, knowing that the waiter had seen  that by-play. She had wondered if he’d seen a flash of her bottom as Mister had arranged her just so beside him.

It was the only overtly sexual overture of their meal, though he had fed her tiny bits  from the solitary order placed before him.  Had allowed her to keep her wine glass, but naught else. She left the table hungry for more than food.

The repeated touching of his fingers on her lips had made her half crazed with lust, but the outline of their meeting was not to be deviated from. Meet. Talk. Touch. Understand.

Then, time apart once more, to process.

And decide.

He’d taken the napkin, pulled a pen from his pocket, and quickly jotted down his personal, private cell number.  He wasn’t going to make any further moves, he’d told her, until she had time to make her choice. Until then, he would wait.

For 24 hours, she had to sit on it, think about it, roll the flavor of it around in her mouth and decide whether or not she would.

Smiling, at 24 hours and 1 minute, she picked up her phone, and dialed.