2nd Blogoversary 8/31/11

i cannot believe it.

TWO years? Well, hasn’t the time  simply flown by? It started as a retreat to soothe an angry vanilla housewife, but it became  a place to  explore who really lived under my skin. Today it is filled with stories from a dark and twisted mind…in a good way, mind you. Stories that make you quiver in fear, or longing, or lust, and stories that make you smile and laugh as i share my real-life goings-on with my Master.

This place  has become my home away from home.

It is the place where i met so many others kinda like me. People who had kink. And understanding. Questions.  Answers. More questions. The short-lived Dom, the turbulent Triad, and my beloved Master.

My sub sisters, my heart sisters, my blog brother(s)….all met here.

i didn’t know, that angry, hurt-filled day two years ago, when i first became vanillamom, that i would be in this oh-so-very-good place so many days, so many stories, later.

i’m some bit older, some bit wiser, so much happier. i have readers who throw ideas at me, and stories that bite me in the butt to get written coz of something someone has said to me.

It’s been, at times, a turbulent ride. Emotional, yes i am that! Caught up and sucked in by whirlwinds of feelings…some good, some not so good.

Yet each day, another step in learning who i really am. And accepting, fully, this woman i’ve come to know.

The vanilla mom. Oh, my vanilla life is so busy, so full. And i sometimes neglect it, my vanilla side, when i’m sucked deeply into the darker side of my life. Yet, as Mick said some time ago–the vanilla is important too.

In all honesty? I’d have to say my life is way more a pendulum than a balanced scale (isn’t that the basic fundamental of the Praxis model, that pendulum, aisha??)  Sometimes vanilla sucks me fully in, and i have to turn aside from this side of myself. But never for long. No, that other part of me, that i’ve come to accept? She pushes back and reminds me that there is more to me now than just the vanilla.

The slut. Oh, gawd, such a slut. Master knows it, comments on it daily. It makes Him smile, it often makes Him laugh, how eagerly the lady falls away and the slut shines out.

The pain-lover. This was shocking. Frightening, even. Me? A pain-slut?  Yes.

And  every person who helped me along this path is one i owe a debt of gratitude to. Finding this “dark” place was one thing. Accepting it, integrating it? That led me further on the path to wholly accepting “me”–i can be tender and loving, and raw and visceral. i can want a gentle kiss, and a harsh belting. i can accept –no. Not accept–crave.  i can crave the pain,  and still be a lovey-dovey girl. 

It’s a complex thing, isn’t it? To accept that i want that pain? And two years ago, i would never, ever have believed it.

I clearly remember  wondering “why”…when i read the blogs of submissives who got pain, wanted pain, craved pain. I thought it was extreme. I thought it strange.

Then why was my pussy constantly wet, reading of it?

Hmmm, there’s the rub. My pussy knew, way before my brain could accept, that pain was a turn on for me. Reading at kaya’s blog would make me shiver with fear and lust.

Fear…how could she *take* some of that stuff?

How could *i* get so fucking wet reading it?

heh.

Pussy knew. Pussy is a verrah smart kritter.

Master turned the key in the lock, that very first spanking. I remember it, though so much of our first time is lost in the mist of subspace.

And knowing, now, i admire Him all the more. How much He held back, teaching me. Guiding me.

How amazed we both were at the shocking lust that blazed into full flame as He hit me with His belt.

i won’t ever have to sit back and wonder, years and years from now…wait…Frost said it best:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and i-

i took the one less traveled by.

And that has made all the difference.

i’m looking forward to what the road has hidden around the next bend…it’s been a thrill thus far!

~nilla~

Summer in Maine (6)

Prima looked around her. There were trees. And more trees. And still yet more. It smelled wonderful, to be sure. Way better than the ‘urban jungle’ she usually called home.

She was unclear as to her Dom’s motives in sending her here.

“Summer camp will be good for you, 3,” He’d said with that smile on his face. That one that tightened her belly into slippery coils of lust.

Just as at home, she could call herself by her nickname to other subs, but to any Doms, she must introduce herself by the name He called, her, 3.

There was something so demeaning about being delegated as a number. And he understood that kind of pushing made her hot. She didn’t completely understand the whole humiliation scene, but he was guiding her along the path.

She knew she wasn’t his first girl, that he had others. Was she, in fact, third? Or was she, really, one of many? It wasn’t something that they talked about; she was content to be who she was with him, submissive, subservient, and wantonly sexual.

And he’d sent her to summer camp like a twelve-year old.

She sighed, glad that she had the money to get one of those snazzy new tents that assembled with one pull. PULL, snap, and up it went.  She was going to sleep in the woods inside a nylon bag. On top of a rubber mat. Thank goodness she’d brought the microfiber pad that went on her bed at home. And blankets.

Already it was chilly.

She’d arrived a day after camp had started, thanks to Western Air’s fuck-up. She’d gotten a private orientation from a lively fellow, who kept staring at her capacious bosom.

Master had ordered her to only wear low, low-cut tops here. And after the first day, she had to go out and about naked.

Naked.

In the woods.

In fuck-all Maine.

In short order she had her tent set, her gear stowed, and she began wandering the camp. Master had directed her to observe, to listen, to represent him well while she was there.

And to expect the unexpected.

yeah, like she didn’t already expect that with him.

She remembered the day of nipple torture. Clamps on. Clamps off. Clamps on. Clamps off. Elastics while at work. The day that dragged on, one torturous minute at a time.

Trying to cum in the airplane bathroom. She’d had 6 minutes. Talk about epic fail. She had no idea how those “mile-high” club people did it. All she felt was abject terror at all the air under the thin metal framework under her feet.

Yet now, under her pink tennis shoes was deep pine loam. Every step was an olfactory wonder. Muscles she hadn’t realized were cramped began to relax.  She wandered around, stopping once, mouth open, as she observed a man, hogtied on the picnic table while hot wax was drizzled on the backs of his thighs.

He was moaning, but from pain, pleasure or the magic cocktail of both was hard to say. The Domme, looking up from her ‘work’ smiled at her. It was enough to break her spell, and she smiled back, quickly, like a rabbit caught staring at a wolf, and she bolted off, trailed by the sound of feminine laughter, throaty and low.

She fingered her greenie tag, and wandered up to the Dungeon. Spooky shit in there, she supposed.

She couldn’t help it, she was insatiably curious.

She stepped inside, momentarily blinded by the dim light, after the brilliant sunshine from outside.  Immediately, a bag was pulled over her head.

“Hey!” she yelped.

“Shut the fuck up, slut” a gruff voice said.

“Bbbbut….you have the wrong girl…” she sputtered, and struggled against too-strong arms.

“You’re the slut named 3, right?”

She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest.

What the fuck had Master gone and done?

A large hand grabbed her at the back of her head, grabbing the bag and a large chunk of her thick red hair. She yelped but was ignored as she was propelled across a wide space. She fetched up against something hard, and was immediately bent over it.

Her hands were attached to something, ensuring that she would remain bent as he’d set her. She felt cold metal against the back of one thigh, and the unmistakable sound of scissors.

He was cutting off her shorts! OH fuck, and her favorite pair, too.

“Wait,” she tried to say, but her voice was weak, bent over uncomfortably, covered with the bag.  Her legs were kicked apart and she felt straps going ’round each ankle.  She gasped and tried to move, but too late. In a moment she was secured, bare-assed.

She expected to feel the sharp report of a crop against her pale skin, or the thwomp of a paddle, perhaps. What she felt instead was the cold drizzle of liquid into her asscrack.

And the unexpected feeling of a cockhead gliding down that greased trail. Pressing against her anus,  there was no room for dissent or agreement.

He was taking, not talking. She felt his thighs behind her, the heat of them, his bent knees hitting her mid-thigh.

She wanted to scream, hell, scream the fucking hall down. She could not believe that she was going to be ass-reamed her first day at camp.

That her Master had set this up was unmistakable. It had all the earmarks of one of his dastardly tasks.

Thoughts scattered as a thick, hard cock pressed inside her tight hole. She did scream then, he was big, way bigger than her tiny little anus.  The only response to her yelp was more cock shoved into her passage, and the happy groan of a man taking his pleasure.

It hurt. It filled her. She felt…full. Like she needed to take the biggest dump of her life. The feelings increased the deeper he went, filling her painfully with the full thick weight of his dick.

When he pulled back, the relief was instantaneous. The pressure was gone, the feeling akin to voiding her bowels, but in a second he was back, harder and deeper than before. His thrusts grew in intensity, her asshole felt battered, stretched beyond reason.

She felt the spatter of liquid on her legs, heard it hitting the floor. It took a moment for her to realize it was from her. She’d had a fucking orgasm while this stranger pummelled her asshole? How fucking sick was that?

And it hurt so much.

And it felt so amazingly good. The pleasure/pain cocktail that her Master had given her a taste of, a magic elixir that filled her with dread and lust. She craved it now.

The cock in her ass pulsed once, twice, and the man attached to it groaned out his cumming. She couldn’t feel it, the way it said in porn stories. Her ass was too sore, or he was too deep. He pulled out, and what she felt was stretched out, throbbing pain.

And the steady drip, drip, drip of semen leaking from her abused ass.

“Was it good?” she heard a voice ask. She tried to gather her thoughts to answer, when someone else did.

“Yeah, it was a tight lil asshole when I started, but it’s stretched out now for you, big guy.” She heard the crack of two male hands slapping together.

They weren’t talking to her.

They were talking about her.

They weren’t letting her go. She felt the press of a very large cock on her stretched rectum.

“nooooo” she moaned, even as he popped the head inside her. And pulled it out again.

The pop was painful going in. It was almost worse going out.

He played with her anus for a few minutes, alternating between in and out, until she writhed in her bonds, and was begging for him to stop.

“Beg me to fuck this stinking asshole” He said, popping out, then in again.

She moaned. She didn’t want that big cock in her ass.

Pop. in.

Pop. out.

He waited for her answer.

Pop. in.

Pop. out.

She cried out again. ‘please, please pleaseplease…please stop!”

“Beg me to fuck this asshole,” he repeated.

Pop. in.

Pop. out.

Pop. in.

Pop. out.

Faster this time, upping the pain ante. She struggled and moaned.  Finally, gasping and crying, she cried out ” Fuck my ass, please, please fuck my ass!”

Pop. in.

Pop. out.

“Please?” She screamed.

“What did I tell you to say, slut. You think about it carefully if you want this to stop. I could do this all fuckin’ day, my cockhead fucking loves the way this feels. And all your crying and snively shit just adds to the pleasure for me.”

She tried to think. How had she…

Pop. in.

ohgawd

Pop.out.

had she misspok–

Pop.in.

Her head arched back as she moaned in pain.

And remembered.

“Please fuck my asshole.”

“Sir.” He added, his voice gentle and kind, at odds with the harshness of the pain in her butthole.

“Please! Fuck my asshole, SIR” she screamed. There was a sound of random applause around her. She thought she heard the murmur of a voice saying “can’t wait for my turn,” but that couldn’t be right, could it?

*this little side story came courtesy of a special request…i hope you enjoyed it, my dear…~n~*

All of her

“Do it,” he says, his voice gravely with lust.

She knows better to argue, but her hesitation speaks volumes. She is conflicted. He’s never asked her to do this before.

It’s new.

It’s weird.

He’s watching her intently, his face impassive and yet. She can see the Beast that lurks behind those eyes. She can sense its impatient movements below his skin. She hears its heartbeat. It echoes her own.

At long last she moves.

He is still watching her, saying nothing, yet coaxing her into compliance. She hates to disappoint him.

It weakens her resistance, the urge to please him over her own shyness.

Her hand slips from her nipple, the peak hardened by her own hand. Need, slippery and hot, boils inside of her. She wants him to fuck her, to take her hard and fast.

Wants to feel the slickness of his flesh against hers, the weight of him pressing her deep into the mattress, wants to be pinned there and taken.

The tableau seems to last for hours, so sluggishly does her hand move. His eyes are stuck for a moment on that turgid pinnacle, and she feels the ripple of touch though he hasn’t moved to do so.

She imagines his fingers there, where hers have abandoned that lust-roughened flesh. He would be merciless. His fingers would clamp down on her helpless nipple, pinching her painfully.

He would twist that nipple, jolting her into a frenzy of agonized wriggles to attempt to free herself. She would be unsuccessful, she knew. She never could ‘get away’ from those pincering fingers.  And the pain was bliss.

Her hand moves lower.

His eyes track down from her swollen nipple, across her rounded belly, to pause again at the dimple of her belly button. She wants to move, to arch, remembering the feel of his mouth there, his tongue driving deeply, tickling and stirring her.

She touches  the top of the valley between her thighs, her fingers tracing so slowly. His eyes are glued to her fingers now, and though she blushes, deeply, he is not looking at her embarrassment.

He is watching her compliance.

He is watching her submission.

He is watching her fingers flick across her clit, watching the sheen of sweat gild her skin, watching her begin to sink lower, deeper.

She arches into her hand at last, unable to stop the flood of sensations. She knows exactly where to touch, where to find the hidden places that make her burn.

She stops blushing, as she discovers the erotic excitement of his gaze on her hand as she dips and swirls, flicks and pushes.

She arches, lifting her hips, legs sprawling as she presses deeply inside, and at last he moves, taking her bent knees in his palms, pressing them wide.

He is watching her. All of her, his.

Not Your Typical Sunday Post…

**SCANDALSHACK IS GOING TO TAKE THIS POST AND PUT IT ON THEIR WEBSITE TOO–DON’T YOU HATE WHEN THAT HAPPENS? THEY  APPARENTLY CAN’T CREATE THEIR OWN STUFF SO THEY SNATCH IT FROM OTHERS WITHOUT A BYE-YOUR-LEAVE…THE CYBER-WORLD IS A FUNNY PLACE AND THEY APPEAR TO HAVE FEW MORALS AND EVEN FEWER MANNERS. I SO WISH THEY’D STOP TAKING MY POSTS AND REPOSTING THEM ON THEIR WEBSITE….*

Y’all enjoying my daily greetings to my arch-nemesis, SS ? It’s the only thing i can think of to get them to stop posting my work.  We’ll see if they continue to enjoy my daily rant as they scoop up yet another message from me with their morning “scarfing” of OPS (Other Peoples Stuff)…Plus i just discovered that i can ‘disallow’ pingbacks on posts…and i tried that to see if that would prevent them from scooping.

I’m writing this post on Friday evening, since it is unclear whether we will have power or internet come Sunday.  As you read this, we’re in the middle of Hurricane Irene. Lots of rain and wind expected. There is little to rival the sheer beauty of a hurricane in full-bore as seen from space, don’t you think?

As fate would have it, this storm is majorly screwing up my D/s life. Master and i were set to meet today–and that’s just not gonna happen. We live far enough apart that traveling to even meet in the middle could prove dangerous.

We’d hoped that we could grab a quick coffee together in the morning, but with the forecast now saying that the storm will hit us in the morning with the most intensity,  it appears that won’t happen, either.

Rest assured, neither of us will take thoughtless chances.

Guess that means i don’t need to shave my pussy, right? Things are getting a bit…um..furry downstairs. Was going to do the “de-carpeting” Saturday night before bed…but now i’ll wait a bit longer.

So i’m having a lazy morning, laying in bed and not planning on getting up early. I’ve not had one of those mornings in a verrah long time.  My work hours have changed a bit so Saturday mornings are busier than they used to be, up and at ’em just as early as a weekday.

But since i still *have* a job to go to, i can deal with that!

Master and i have rescheduled for September. Although we email daily, text multiple times, and talk almost every day…..it will be three weeks without seeing Him in the flesh.  We’re hoping that we can find a bit of time between now and when i leave on vacation with my family, but it just might not come to pass.

We had our sex date tonight (Friday, remember?!)  and when we were talking about our week ahead, i mentioned not shaving the puss.

“Don’t.”

i’m taken aback.  There is silence while He waits for me to digest this.

“Master?”

“You heard Me. Don’t shave it. I’ll bring a really sharp rock when we get together next!”

i giggle.

He laughs.

“You know, nilla,” He says in that voice. The one that lets me know *something* is afoot.  And he chuckles.

“Your pussy is gonna look like a …a farm animal!” and He laughs.

He is such a Bastard at times!! And i will look like a barnyard animal! I love that he controls this…at his whim i shave…or not. And after i came three times during our sexdate, it was “all done, little girl.”

During the talk about the farm animal pussy, my finger just kinda crept down and rubbed the hairy snatch, and somehow found my clit. Not sure how it happened, it’s kind of an instinctive thing (maybe i was a guy in a past life?*giggle*).

“Get your hand out of your pussy,” He says.

How the fuck did he know? We’re not on cam, just the phone. I was talking, not moaning.

“Master!! How the hell did you know my finger was in my pussy…?” I am incredulous.

“nilla.” He sighs. “You are such a wicked slut. Where *else* would your hand be? Hand out of there, you’re back on ZNN!!”(Zero, Nada, Nyet-absolutely NO touching of any erogenous zones!)

“can i cum in the morning during the hurricane?”

“ZNN”

“Pul-eeeeze?”

“ZNN”

“PURTY PULEEEEZE?”

Ha.

as if it were that easy right?

“nilla,” he says, amused.

“Yes Master? I say, all eager and happy….his tone is, after all, the indulgent voice of a parent to an excited and anticipating child.

The smile is evident in his voice.

“No fucking way.”

Friday Night Waiting…Real-life nilla

***SCANDALSHACK IS CONTINUING TO TAKE MY POSTS AND USE THEM AGAINST MY WISHES. I’M THINKING OF CALLING IT ‘BLOG RAPE’….FOR THEY *ARE* VIOLATING ME IN THEIR UNCARING, UNCEASING TAKINGS…**

 

i’m waiting.

Sitting here, waiting for the appointed time to call my Master, to share my day with him, his with me. To join with him in these little stolen moments at the end of the day, and feel us wrap our lives around each other.

i’m feeling all lovey-dovey.

And horny.

So. Fucking. Amazingly. Horny.

He started Thursday night.

We talked, like teens, late into night. He made me giggle, and gasp and moan. He told me of the claws of need he would build in me today. That He would OWN me all day today, and i would feel it.

And i did.

i’m not going to share exactly how he did it, but every time i looked at the clock, i would smile, and think of him, feel my pussy clench in need.

I get an orgasm or two Wednesday evening, then not another until our Friday night phone sex date. That’s 48 hours, sometimes 50 hours with no O.

That is pretty challenging for such a horny slut. Yet he LOVES knowing that he has full grasp of my pussy, of my need, my want, my lust.

And my heart. He has that in his hand, too.

And now i sit, and wait. Wait for the time to pick up my phone, for him to stir me, and bring me to the fulfillment that i crave.

Almost as much as i crave Him.

**SCANDALSHACK HAS TAKEN ANOTHER OF MY HEART-CRAFTED STORIES AND POSTED IT ON THEIR SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION, MY DESIRES, OR MY WISHES**

Signed (10)

**SCANDALSHACK  TAKES OTHER PEOPLES WORK…. SCANDALSHACK TAKES OTHER PEOPLES WORK…jUST LIKE THEY HAVE TAKEN THIS PIECE FROM ME!!  GOSH, I REALLY DISLIKE THAT ABOUT SCANDALSHACK*****

She’d not seen him all day.

They had fallen into an odd sort of routine. She was to sleep with him, and sleep is what they did. He’d not fucked her in the last three days, not since that little scene on the balcony.

She wondered how the hell she could be his ‘sex slave’ if He wasn’t sexing her. Fucking her. Whatever.

He’d been gone every morning when she woke up. He was comfortable to sleep next to, arms wrapping her tightly, keeping her warm despite the chill blowing into the room from the open balcony doors.

From here she could see the intense blue sky, the sharpness of the green trees lancing up into the blue, like fir rockets on a mission. The sound of bird calls, the splash of water from the fountain in the center of the maze, all coalesced into one peaceful, relaxing scene.

Then why wasn’t she relaxed, she wondered. She really wanted to ignore the growing need. But she was horny, and it was hard to deny that she was half-looking forward to him coming upon her in the house and fucking her brains out….because he could.

She slid out of bed, and into the robe he allowed her to wear for the first hour she was up. Her tummy  rumbled and she wanted a cup of coffee so badly that she could almost smell it.

She made her way downstairs.

She did  smell coffee! Oh, how wonderful! The last few days she’d had to make it, finding only  dregs  in the pot when she got up. She grabbed a mug and poured the first cup, sipping carefully at the heat.

She put the mug down, and wondered where he was this morning. Thinking to herself, she turned to the pantry for a pop-tart, her morning weakness, and about jumped out of her skin.

“Good morning, slut.”

She put her hand over her pounding heart.

“i-..good morning Sir. i…wasn’t expecting..that is…you’ve not..OH fuck it. You scared the hell out of me, Sir.”

He grinned at her, over the rim of his cup, winking at Reg who was sitting across from him in the breakfast nook.  That grin made her melt. Dammit, she wasn’t supposed to be all turned on. She was here somewhat against her will.

Okay, that wasn’t true.

She’d signed the fucking papers, and she knew she could play the victim here, but really, he’d not taken near as much from her over the last week as she’d thought he would have.

She frowned.

“Do you find me unattractive?” She blurted the question, unthinkingly. His smile deepened.

“Not at all, slut, not at all.”

Now she was confused, and a bit aggravated. Last night she’d wiggled her bum right against him. She’d felt his cock grow hard against her, but he’d done nothing.

“Well,” she snapped. She picked up her coffee. She needed caffeine. Why the fuck couldn’t she shut up? She felt her blood simmering, all the need throbbing between her legs suddenly, like she’d been struck with a match.

His complacent smile, one might call it a smirk, infuriated her.

“Well?” she asked again, hand on hip, mug paused halfway to her lips. Her hair was tangled around her, her robe was messily tied, leaving a great deal of breast open to their gaze. She noted none of it, nor the fact that her nipples were hard, and pressing firmly against the thin silk barrier.

He tilted his head, almost coyly, she thought. Fucking bastard was spoiling for a fight, was he? Oh, she knew the signs. Her lips thinned. She was here to be fucked for debt settlement, dammit. And he’d only fucked her one fucking time!!

“You,” she stabbed her finger in the air, releasing her hip, and the tenuously tied belt. As she pointed at the two men, she stepped forward and the slippery fabric gave up all pretense of remaining tied.

Another step opened the robe fully, revealing her gently furred mons, and most of her left tit. Her cheeks were rosy with her distress,  and her scent was one of arousal.

“You said you would use me. That you’d pay everything off if i came with you.”

“I did, yes.” He nodded, still smiling that smug-assed grin as he sipped at his coffee.

Reg looked on, glancing between them, and smiling as well. He admired her curves, the flow of belly into thigh, the creamy skin against the peachy silk, as she advanced another step.

She felt the first full simmering of rage. GAWD! the insufferable bastard!

“You!” and she pointed that accusing finger at Reg. “Don’t you smirk at me. You..You…you’re as insufferable as he is!”

She turned her attention to the man who, by her own hand, owned her for 21 more days. She slapped her mug back onto the counter, ignoring the slosh of coffee onto the pristine surface.

“You’ve only fucked me once.” Her words were hot, terse bullets zinging towards him.

For a moment they hung there. He looked at her, she glared back.

And then he laughed. Threw his head back and roared. She stood there, hands on hips, agog with disbelief. The bloody bastard was laughing at her?

After an eternity, or so it seemed, he threw a glance at Reg, winking boldly.

“See, told you!”

She stood, mouth agape, as Reg pulled his wallet from his jeans, and handed the Bastard a twenty.

**SCANDALSHACK HAS TAKEN ANOTHER ONE OF MY STORIES…I REALLY DESPISE THEM FOR IT BUT THEY WON’T STOP SO I’M APPEALING TO MY READERS TO NEVER VISIT THEIR WEBSITE**

HNT Controversy

So.

Where to start. I’m sure if you read here, you likely read over at sin’s blog too. In her post here, she discusses the issue with scandalshack. I, too, have had my stuff taken there, posted. I’ve gotten the pingbacks so at least it’s credited to me, but i’m kinda ooked about it. Is that naive of me? Perhaps.

i did think, briefly, about password protecting this site after i tried asking them politely to discontinue using my stuff. However, i’d have to get all legal and i don’t need that kind of “outing” aggravation. And if someone is getting a chance to read my stuff…that’s fine.

That’s one of the reasons why i started here in the first place, to provide a place for people to go to read  some decent quality, free, naughty stories.

So do me, and a lot of other bloggers who’s content has been taken,  a favor and don’t visit scandalshack. Eventually they’ll get bored, and stop.

And… i’ll be more careful about the pix i post, making sure that they are not “me” identifiable…

All that said? Here’s this weeks HNT…thanks for coming along on the ride with me!

You know i’m an ardent Patriot’s fan, so you must know that i’ll wear their colors proudly…even on HNT Day! Rah, Rah, sis boom bah!

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday!

and, oh, yeah..

Go, Pats!

Summer in Maine (5)

vanillamoms work is now copyrighted. see sidebar for more information….

Sherry paused at her campsite.

“This is mine.” She turned to Mystery Man, pointing towards her tent. “Thank you for walking with me.” She moved to shrug off his jacket, his hand on her shoulder forestalling her.

“Keep it,” he said. “I know where to find it now.”

She watched him move away until he was lost in the darkness, gone but for the beam of his flashlight arching ahead of him. She watched until even that disappeared.  The campsites around her were dark, and she knew everyone must be at Campfire already. Stepping to her tent she ducked inside, found her flashlight right where she’d put it. Organization made her so happy!

She went to her little truck, and dug out a  granola bar to tide her over. Too late to start a fire and dinner now, but she knew she could head up to the snack bar and buy a burger when she went up.

She snuggled the jacket around her. She was sure he was a Dom, though it had been too dark to see his tag to be certain.  One thing she’d learned over the years in the lifestyle, was never make judgements. He could have been a very kind and helpful subbie, too. One never knew, and looks could be deceiving.

She remembered the telling faux pax she’d made in her early days, before she’d been guided by her first Dom. She’d gone to a club, and saw the tiniest little woman, clad in black leather. She’d hung out by her for a while, and finally asked her where her Dom was, and how she’d found him.

And was sat down and lectured about assumptions by an amused Domme. She’d gotten an earful and an eyeful that night. And to top it off, the Domme had her subboy spank her.

And then had taken over the job herself.  She smiled in memory. Mistress Jane sure as hell packed a wallop!

Shutting the truck door, she opened her snack, and flicked on her light.  Walking through a D/s campground sure was different! She loved to camp but some of the things she’d seen already had proven to be very…..interesting.

“Hmmmm, i guess not everyone went to Campfire yet” she noted as she passed by a tent lit from within. She could clearly see the outlines of a person in a chair, and the kneeling form bobbing up and down in front of him.

The sight, in shadowplay, was enticing. And hotter than the last graphic porn flick she’d seen, actually.

The beam of a flashlight flicked in her direction and for a moment she was illuminated, caught gaping like a randy teen. The light steadied on her lanyard tag.

“Lost, greenie?” The light came around, illuminating the orange tag of Staff. Her voice was amused.

‘Busted’ she thought ruefully. “i’m just heading to Campfire,” she offered, lamely.

“Uh huh,” came the droll response. “Come with me greenie, I’m headed there myself.”

She and Staffwoman (why didn’t they have names? she wondered) headed down the dirt road, barely wide enough for the golf carts she’d seen zipping around here earlier.

“Are all staff Dom’s?” she asked at the same time SW said “So, first time at a D/s event?”

They laughed together, and in unison responded  “no”, eliciting even more giggles.

“Spill,” said SW.

“Do you folks have names?”

“I do, yes.” She laughed, as did Sherry. So much for that helping answer any questions, she thought, amused.  She was infected by giggles and silliness. The arm that came around her a moment later was friendly. She cocked her head. It’d been a long time since she played with another woman. She wondered if this was headed that way.

She got a hard squeeze.

“Sure we have names but we’re just known as  “staff”  when we’re on duty. I’m Maggie and i’m a switch. You know what that means, right?”

“Yes, i do. i’m Sherry,” she proffered her hand, which was ignored. Maggie gripped her shoulders and said “three seconds to say no…” and planted a deep and lusty kiss on Sherry’s mouth.

OH, Sherri thought, ‘now that was surprisingly hawt!’

After a minute or 5, they broke apart, smiling. “Well, that was nice,” said Maggie. “Maybe you and i should spend some time together…”

“i don’t want to hurt feelings, but …”

“You don’t dig girls?”

“Oh, no, that’s not it. No, there was this guy, and i don’t know if he’s…if i?” She subsided with a small sigh. “It’s complicated already!”

“Nah! Just go with the flow, and no hard feelings here. If we hook up, great. If not, it wasn’t meant to be. Still, you are one smokin’ chicka. Can’t blame a gal for trying! And here’s Campfire,” she pointed to the glow ahead.

The sounds of many voices talking, a guitar and a recorder playing, accompanied by the sounds of drumming came clearly to them through the night air.

The scene that unfolded was a bit less traditional.

The guitar was being strummed by a cock, held firmly in the long-nailed hands of a full, leather-clad Domme, as her boi moaned and whimpered.

The recorder player was female, and was being fucked from behind while she played.

And the skin drums were those of three round-bottomed women, being strapped with a variety of paddles.

Truly, nothing would ever surprise her again.

And then He stepped out into the firelight in front of her, holding an empty leash.

*MY* Girl (part two)

brutal and FULL of dragons…this is a vengeance piece…YOU have been forewarned….first part here …

He turned onto the dirt road as the sun began to rise behind him. He thought of his slut, waking up and getting ready to head to her mothers for the next few days.  He thought of what lay ahead at the end of this road out in the middle of nowhere.

The smile that crossed his face was less of a smile, and more of a feral, predatory grimace.

The road ended in a Y-shaped parking area. An old, nondescript blue van was already parked there, and a single light shone on, then off as he killed the engine. Good, they were ready for him.

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

His head ached like it had caved in. The steady thump, thump, thump rose in pitch as he tried to lift his head. It was dark, and he was disoriented. His hands were stuck behind him and his shoulders ached. What the fuck…? 

Memory returned. Someone had grabbed him, tried to strangle him. He’d fought hard but been knocked unconscious. He’d been outside, but he was definitely indoors now. He wondered what the hell was gonna happen next.

“Wake up, shithead,” a voice came through the darkness, as a booted foot kicked his lower back.

He cried out at the shock of pain. His fucking kidney, the bloody fucking bastard.

“Give me a fighting chance, you fucktard,” He growled through the bag covering his face. “Let me see, you, you assholes, and fight me like men!”

“You’re comparing yourself to a man? You sub-human piece of shit?”

That voice was a growl. There was menace behind the words, that sent a shock of pure terror through him.  Who the fuck was this?

“Look,” he tried being conciliatory. “You gotta have me confused with someone else. I’m not who you think I am…please, just…let me go and I won’t say a fucking word to anyone about this.” His voice took on a whine that sounded pathetic, even to his own ears. “C’mon, please? Give me a break, please?”

Another kick, low on his ass nearly caught his testicles and he winced.

“Oh, like you gave that girl last week? The girl you raped? That kind of “break”, you little fucking worm?”

“You got the wrong guy…I never raped nobody. I swear, I didn’t rape any girl…”

“Worm. How could you have forgotten so fast? Long blonde hair? Sweet body? Remember her? The girl you raped, and humiliated? The girlfriend of a friend, remember that, worm?”

The voice was unfamiliar.

“Look, I didn’t rape her, I didn’t rape her. Please…take off this fucking thing and we can talk about it. I-I didn’t…”

The deep voice interrupted his whine.

“If we take off your bag, we’ll have to kill you.”

He was pulled to his feet, and stood swaying. He was nauseous with fear and pain. Geezuz.

“No! Don’t –don’t take it off…I”

“You haven’t answered me, worm. The girl. The one you raped. Do you remember her? Remember forcing her? Tying her up and fucking her throat until she had no voice left for screaming? Keeping her tied and fucking her all weekend? Is it coming back to you, you fucking worm?”

“W-what the fuck are you talking about?” He begged. “I-I didn’t ‘rape’ any fucking girl. Yes, I had sex with my friends girl, but she was alone, and lonely and she fucking begged me. She begged me to tie her up and fuck her.  Fell to her knees in front of me, and sucked my dick. I’m not gonna say no to that…”

The blow to his lower back was fast, intense, and shut the flow of words instantly. A thin, high-pitched scream came through the bag. The smell of piss filled the small room.

A new voice spoke into his ear.

“You raped my girl. My  girl, worm. You didn’t give her a chance to say no, you didn’t let her go. Instead you tied her to the bed, and ignored her begging you to stop. When she protested, you pulled out of her pussy and  raped her mouth until she was voiceless.  Dunno how many viagra you took, worm, but it sure won’t be worth the price you’ll pay for that. You fucked with the wrong guy, worm.”

Jess!

Understanding dawned. Jess was Special Forces, retired.  He began babbling.

“I’m sorry, Man, I’m fucking sorry, okay. She came on to me”

Once more he was struck, this time in his belly, and he bent over fast, almost puking in response. His body began to throb. His back hurt, his shoulders hurt, his head pounded.

He began to wonder if they might kill him anyway.

“Admit it, worm. You raped my girl.”

“I…”

He felt hands at his waist, pulling at his belt.

“NO! NO….don’t…” He struggled but hands came up to hold him, and his feet, cobbled loosely, could not be raised to kick out at whomever was drawing his pants down to his ankles. His pants added to the hobbling, and then he felt the cool air against his cock and balls as his wet briefs were peeled down.

“Baby pissed his pants,” said a voice, laughing.

“Wait until the enema hits,” said another. He felt the shocking press against his anus, and cried out. He moaned as he felt it penetrate, felt the rush of cold in his belly.

A hand grabbed his cock, pumping it. Despite the fear, it felt pretty fucking good, and he moaned. The hand continued to jerk him off, and it wasn’t long before he felt his hips moving in rhythm. His belly churned with the fullness of fluid inside of him, yet his cock throbbed for release.

The hose was pulled out of his rectum, moments before he was gonna cum.  His cock was dropped and a booted foot kicked him hard in the groin.

He fell like a sack of potatoes, crying, screaming with the shock of pain, as his rectum released a gushing gout of stinking fluid from his bowels.

“Hose that fucker down well. Don’t want our guest to stink this place up too much.”

A rush of cold water sprayed over him. Periodically the water hit the bag over his head and he choked. This must be what waterboarding was like, he thought, heart racing.  He lay on the floor, body throbbing, ass aching, testicles screaming with pain. Finally the water was off, and he lay, shivering.

Jess spoke to whomever else was there in the room. “Make sure you cut his clothing off. And before you leave, uncuff him. He’ll find his way home eventually.”

“Make sure he fully understands his instructions, to never call us again, to not attempt to see my girl,  and to strongly consider packing up and moving out-of-state,” he added, looking with distaste at the writhing man on the floor.

“Fucking worm,” He muttered, shaking his head.

“Make sure you ream his ass good,” Jess said as he turned to leave.

“Will do, Cap’n” replied Two.

He heard the sounds of screaming as he got into his truck and left the little building in the clearing in the woods. It was going to be a very long day for the man who raped Jess’s girl.

*MY* Girl (part one)

wordwytch got tired of waiting for me to finish this post and wrote her own version of what happened when Jess got home! Her vision of what transpired comes in part from her Wolf….and i figured, since i had 300 words already written, i might as well give my version of this! It’s funny, i hadn’t planned when i wrote “Jess’s Girl” for there to be a follow-up, but of course, there had to be, right? I can’t imagine any Dom letting someone take his sub without His permission…not without repercussions, anyway…And  i went to my Master for confirmation of that, and asked HIM what would happen if this scene played out with His slut…

whoa…trust me…what i finally came up with is a very watered down version of what my Owner said would happen if someone fucked with His toy….

Jess knew something was up.

Something was wrong with his girl. He’d been watching her since he got home mid-day. She was nervous, and….fragile. He’d not seen her like this in a long, long time, and he knew it wasn’t just from going away that caused this kind of reaction. He traveled frequently for his job; and she was a confident little tart.

He finally cornered her at the sink. Sunk almost to the elbows in hot, soapy water, she jolted when he slipped up behind her, silent, as was his way. Some training never got lost.  Seven years in special forces had taught him how to read people, how to move silently, and how to handle things, talents he put into his job all the time.

He’d had to use them to tame her after a gone-south relationship had dented her ego, damaged her heart, wounded her spirit. That was years ago, though, so this was something recent.

He had his suspicions as to the cause of her distress. He’d made the mistake of  teasing his friend, telling Brett that he should keep an eye on her over the weekend. It was all in good fun, in part because he’d been oogling her for a long time.  He’d made a few unappreciated comments about stealing her away, but Jess knew she’d not be swayed by Brett. He was pretty sure she didn’t really even like him. Besides, as her Dom, it was his choice to share or not. He’d never chosen that route, he preferred to hold and keep what was his.

He planned to get to the bottom of what was bothering her. And if it was Brett, he’d get to the bottom of that, too.

As his hands settled on her hips, she yelped, almost a scream. Soap bubbles flew every which way. Several large globs landed on the window, adding a surreal aspect to the gilded evening sunset.

“You’re making bubble murals, little one.” His lips brushed her ear, his voice low, soothing, taming her racing heart.

“i-i didn’t hear you, Jess…Master…” Her voice was husky, raw sounding. She said it was a ‘throat thing’, but again, he knew she was skirting the truth.

“What happened to you?” His voice was soft against her ear. He felt the pounding of her pulse in the little hollow as he pressed a kiss behind her lobe, and nipped the way He knew drove her crazy.

“Missed you,” she moaned.

“Tell Me what happened.”

His voice shifted from soft, to command mode. She stiffened in his arms, but her head fell forward after a moment, and he felt the sobs where their bodies meshed.

“i’m sorry, Master, so sorry. i fucked someone without permission…”

He turned her.

“Did you go willingly?”

Her eyes slid away, she shook her head.

“But, Master….i responded.”

“you’ve been trained to respond. I’d expect no less from you.”

He pulled her from the sink by her hair, leading her from the kitchen to the bedroom. He shoved her across the bed, then quickly released his zipper, his belt.  He lifted the nightgown, while falling atop her, still clothed. His cock poked out from his jeans, and stabbed into her heat.

He took her hard and fast, as she wrapped herself around Him. He knew that possessing her this way would calm and sooth her in a way no pretty words would.

Yet inside, He seethed.

No one played with His stuff without permission.

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

At three a.m. He woke, and rolled out of bed, soundless in the dark. He slipped out of their bedroom and downstairs, snagging his cell from the charger on his way.  

In the kitchen, he kept the light off, moving to the island in the dark. Palm braced on the surface there, He made one call, low-voiced.  The night hummed with the call of insects, desperate for one last mating before frost. 

Done, he shut down his phone. His mouth lay  a grim line. 

“So be it,” he murmured after a moment, and turning from the room, he slipped back upstairs and into bed with her.

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

He took her to the club. She’d not been out since He’d gotten home, but it was time to move her past that.  Tonight was the night to restore her to confidence. He loved that sassy lil slut, and He would help her back to that.

She slid out of their car, tugging the hem of her skirt down fruitlessly.  He would insist that she wear this one, her shortest. The iridescent fabric drew attention to her ass, snuggled in there. She felt like there were pigs fighting under a blanket with every step she took, but there was no arguing with Him when He insisted. He led her inside, fingers twined in her hair.

Her blouse was dark, flowy and loose. She loved this shirt, even though the hem fell way shy of the top of her skirt, leaving her lower belly exposed. The gold slave chain around her waist winked in the low light of the club. It coordinated with the strappy gold heels she wore.

She looked up at Him, suddenly nervous again.

“Master,” she spoke softly, hand on his chest. “Master, please can we just go back home? i’ll give you the best blowjob ever…”

“I know you will, but it will be here…and you always give me your best, slut,” he smiled down at her. He was proud to see her swallow hard, and nod.  Such a good slut.

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

He stepped out of his apartment with a swagger. Jess had called him an hour ago, telling him he’d be at the club and why didn’t they hook up.

Meant the little fuckdoll hadn’t mentioned their little tryst while her ‘master’ was away, and maybe he’d get another —

His thoughts were interrupted as an arm came around his throat from behind, and a bag was tugged over his head.  He fought, but in seconds his wrists were cuffed from behind.

“What the fuck?! Who the fuck …?” His voice grew loud as they tied the bag tightly around his throat, yet before he could cry for help, the world went dark.

Two men bent over his limp form on the sidewalk, wrists cuffed behind him, head covered.

“Think you hit ’em too hard, One.”

“nah, he’ll just take a little nap and it’ll save us from listening to his bullshit whining. You can always tell a whiner.”

The grin lit up the night. In unison, and silent once more, they lifted the still form and slid him into a blue van. The van disappeared into the evening driving west towards the hills and vales of mountain country.

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

They left the club at 2:30, sated, happy. She had waited for Brett to show up as was his wont, but he never did. She snuggled with her Master on the way home, happy that He’d made her take the first step.

The light was blinking on his work phone when they got in. She went upstairs and got ready for bed while Master made his calls.

“You’d think the Man could rest for a night or two,” she muttered, scrubbing off her make up.

“You’d think, eh?”

She jolted, dropping the cloth. “Master! i didn’t hear you!”

He smiled at her. Then stepped into the room, running His finger from her ear to her shoulder. “Pretty girl,” he murmured, tenderly.

“I have to go. They need me to check on a project. I’ll be gone a day or two…how about you go visit your mom, rather than hanging here alone?”

She cupped His cheek in her palm, tucking her head under His chin as she moved into Him.

He was so good to her.