She woke with a cold shiver, as something pressed chill against her left nipple. The last thing she remembered, she thought muzzily, was…what? It felt like she was pulling herself up through a thick tunnel of taffy, as she worked towards wakefulness. So groggy. So disoriented.

A sudden hissing sounded near her head, and a sharp and unpleasant tang met her nose.  With a sickening snap, and a roil of her stomach, she was suddenly totally awake and aware.

“Arise, female.”

The disembodied voice came from nowhere, and everywhere. Her eyes  moved around the small space. She looked like she was in an airlock, sans window.

Remembering came with wakefulness. She’d been on the bridge of her small scout-about, when an alien creature had materialized right in front of her. There’d been only a moment to gasp, before it had shot her with some strange gelatinous goop. The blue stuff had hit mid-chest. Moving to wipe it away, she’d been shocked to discover that her limbs were locked in a sudden stasis. In seconds the blue gel had completely covered her and she remembered the sensation of falling, then nothing.

Another shiver, and a soft tinkle came to her ears. What the fuck?

She moved to sit, realizing at last that she was naked, and that there was a dull ache in her left nipple. A small ring lanced through it, with a bell hanging down, thus the jangle. Though she searched for a way to remove the item, it appeared to have no opening.

“You will need to earn your tag. For now the bell will signal your whereabouts. Your release to habitat suitable for your breed commences in 1 minute, standard.”

“Wait! What the fuck is going on here?” she yelled, her hand on the panel before her.

“Don’t be caught; earn your tag.”

There was a chime, not her bell, and a sudden whoosh of pressure against her ears. In seconds, she felt the floor fall away, and all merged into a pale gray fog.

When the fog cleared, she stood on a grassy knoll. The sun was shining in the clear blue sky. Turning full circle, she saw a meadow before her, a forest behind. In the meadow, tall grasses waved. In the trees, shadows beckoned.

“Don’t get caught, female, earn your tags.” What the fuck did that mean? At the farthest point from her, the air distorted, and she heard the sound that presaged her displacement from what must have been a holding cell.

“Your hunter has arrived. You must evade for one standard hour.”

The voice was gone.

Dropping to her knees, she slithered through the grass trying to not create a ripple in the grass. There was no way to tell if the hunter had seen her, but her head told her that the trees was likely the safest place to hide. Then again, isn’t that what most hunted would think? She crept around the bottom of the small rise she’d been on, looking back at her telltale trail.

Quickly she headed for the woods, reaching the firmer loam there in minutes. Doubling back, she returned to where the trail divided, and headed there. It ended at a small pond. No way to tell how deep it was, she made tracks in the mud to the water’s edge, then backed and turned away, to the grass trail. Hopefully her hunter would think she had come this way, turned away, and headed to the woods. Back she went, leaping across her trail, and into the water, covering her breast with one hand to quiet her bell. Fucking bell!  It was cool in the water, but bearable. She walked deeper, grabbing at reeds as she moved along the edge. By pure luck she discovered that they were hollow, the one in her hand breaking as she slipped on the bottom muck. An older reed, it was broken at the top as well, blackened and ruined.

She felt suddenly, that time was closing, the hunter would be close, and wrapping her hair into her hand, lest it float to the surface and betray her, she sank down amongst the reeds until only her eyes could see. She held the reed steady, amongst the other reeds, and set one end in her mouth. Trying to breathe slowly through it, she heard the faintest rustle in the grass.

He emerged upon the path she’d trod, then looked carefully around at the muddle of tracks she’d made. He was gorgeous, tall, tanned, dark of hair, and muscular. She nearly gasped as she saw a tag on his right nipple. Instead, she held steady, hoping to not create ripples with each breath. After what seemed an eternity, he stood, gazed around the pond, and turned back to the trail.

She had a feeling he’d turn back, and moments later, she was glad she’d remained in place. He leapt into the area, gazing around the pond with brilliant eyes. She imagined dark skies, stars through her viewfinder, and ignored the cold that was making her skin shrivel. A moment, another, and he moved off again, this time at a trot.  She counted seconds until she reached 300, then slowly rose, backing one step  at a time, away from the pond where she’d first entered, and eased out of the pond upon a flat rock. Grasses towered above her, and she sat for a moment, shivering, holding her bell quiet. Awkwardly, she moved off, into the grasses, squatting, clutching her bell, and hoping to find where he had emerged into the scene.

It took forever, rough vegetation scraping along her skin, to move across the meadow. Her legs cramped, she felt the persistent annoyance of mud drying under her toenails, and she smelled horrible. At long last, she found the rocky outcropping poking up from the meadow. Clambering up upon it, she peered over the edge, trying to see across the long, rolling grassland and into the dark wood beyond. She heard a shout, and saw him. He emerged from the forest, his body radiating annoyance.

The air around her filled with fog, and she heard a voice speak.

“My point!”

She awoke in her cell, clean, sweet-smelling, and hungry. As she sat up, she felt heaviness in her breast. Touching, she realized that her bell was gone, and a shiny tag was in its place.


Mechanic, test run

Prior chapter here…Yeah it’s been a while… and remember here be MEGA dragons….

The cars filled the drive, the chairs pushed around the table. Beer and shit- talk and cards moved around the tabletop.

“No you don’t, you lying sack of shit!” This from his best friend, James.

He nodded.

“I sure as fuck do.”

“No, no way,” the chorus of dissent rang through his friends as they leaned back in their chairs, staring at him. He appreciated the jibes, the shit they were dishing out, but he whistled once, sharp, as one would for a pet pooch.

She came out of the kitchen, wearing only a pair of clothespins on her nipples. He’d had her fuctard of a boyfriend, who he now called ‘pussy’, drill holes through the wood, then fasten a long piece of chain to each pin. As she moved, the chain bounced, highlighting every jiggle of her big tits. The look on his friends faces was priceless, the look on hers, murderous. She came reluctantly to his side, her eyes burning at him. He could understand it, really. He’d threatened to put the pussy’s nuts in his vice grips and start squeezing. He’d seen her hesitate for a moment, and wondered if he’d be forced into a demonstration to get her to comply. Pussy had looked on in horror, his cock shriveled, his balls hugged between his legs.

He had also told her she could wear something, he recalled with an inward grin. He hadn’t mentioned that it would be clothes pins on her nipples, but he had kept his word. He doubted she would see it that way, and frankly that didn’t bother him in the least.

He put his arm around her hip, hugging her close.

“Isn’t she purty?” He flicked the chain, watched her eyes narrow.

“She’s not just decoration, boys. She’s got a lot of hot, wet holes that are, currently, empty. So if you have a bit of an itch to scratch, you can take her in my bedroom, or bend her over the arm of the couch, or I can tuck ‘er under the table and let her move around the table sucking you off.”

He wished he’d thought to bring his phone to the table to take pictures of the shocked  faces of his friends. All three  of them just stared, bemused. The smiles started to grow as he unzipped, took out his cock, and pulled her into his lap.

“Ride me.”

Each rise up, each jolt down set her titchain to swinging.

“Now that’s fuckin’ hot shit.”

James watched her big bobbling tits with awe. He loved girls with big meaty boobs, and had jacked off many times to the fantasy of fucking a big fat pair.

“‘scuse me, Michael, but I think I’ll have some of what you’re having.” He pushed back his chair and moved around the table.  He took her by the chains, and said, “come here, girl.”

“Tiger, her name is tiger. And she likes it rough.” He watched for a moment as James led her into the bedroom, leaving the door open. To his friends surprise, Mike whistled again.

“You got two?” Eyes agog, the brothers Mark and Andy turned towards the kitchen, but they sat back in shock as a slim man, naked except for  a pair of socks, came forward.

“Two house sluts for me, and this one is fully operational too.”

“No way I’m letting a guy suck my dick!” Mark turned shocked eyes on his friend.

“A mouth is a mouth. Under the table you won’t know which one is-”

He was interrupted by a short, shocking scream from the bedroom.

“MAN is her ass TIGHT!” came the cry from James.

Four pair of eyes turned towards the bedroom, three chairs pushed away from the table, as they crowded down the hall.

“You…stay.” Mike pointed back as pussy came, bringing up the rear.

“But she’s my girl…”

“No. She’s MY cunt. Stay. Here.” He mimed squeezing with his thumb and forefinger, then pointed at the floor. Another short yelp had him stepping up to the bedroom. Mark and Andy had moved close, watching as James plumbed the depths of tiger’s ass. His hands held her by her wrists, folded over the small of her back as he drove into her.

“She’s a fighter all right, but boy she’s cum hard already. Soaked my foot the first time.” James laughed. “I’m gonna shoot so much cum up her shitter she’ll be draining for a week!”

“Look at that,” marveled Mark, as he watched James’s fat cock working in and out of the woman’s anus. She let out another short, hard scream as he filled her, and he moaned.

“Oh fuck, she’s cumming again!” He groaned. “Squeezing my cock so hard, fuck fuck fuuuuuuck I”M CUMMING…” 

He drove his shaft hard against her bum, bearing down on the round globes as he pressed as deeply as he could to dump his load. He pulled away, leaving the other men to stare at the stretched and gaping asshole.

“I’ve only seen that in porno’s…and I thought it was fuckin’ fake! Look at that round open ass…” As if moving through a fog, Mark was standing behind her, his pants around his ankles, and his own cock pressing towards that gaping opening. She moaned a weak protest as he pressed inside, hmmmming at the intense feeling of the rectal ring grabbing at his cock, the heat and slickness within. He shoved hard, fast, deeply, and had to work hard at holding back. He’d never fucked an ass before. He wanted to savor it.

Rocking in and out, popping the head of his cock through that not-so-tight-muscle gave him a lot of pleasure. He wondered if he had a bit of a sadistic streak, for every whimper made his cock tighten and swell a bit bigger, until he felt like his shaft was forged from steel. His skin was taut, his penis incredibly stiff. His balls slapped against her slit with every deep thrust, and he was surprised to hear and smell the wetness there. Sure enough, when his fingers ran under her, he found her pussy dripping.

“You fucking whore! You like being ass-fucked!” His tone was incredulous. He popped in and out of her sweet backdoor again, then slid unresistingly into her cunt from behind. He swore he could feel steam boiling as he glided into her hot, soaking cumhole. He fucked hard, slamming into her with a force that pushed her across the bed. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her ass.

“stay. just like that. I want both. both holes.”

He slid out of her pussy, and back into her ass, not noticing when the bed shifted and Andy crawled up, shoving his cock into her mouth. Andy grabbed a hunk of hair and shook her.

“You bite me, you’ll regret it.”

“I don’t bite, Sir,” she gasped as Mark slid deeply into her butthole.  It was the last thing she said before Andy’s cock filled her mouth.

Poker was long forgotten as the men used her holes.

“I bet you’ll cum before me.” Mark threw the challenge at Andy, who was enjoying the feeling of a woman taking his entire shaft into her mouth and throat. His girlfriend rarely sucked cock. It might be time for a new woman, he thought, savoring the wet, hot, sucking mouth, the stroking tongue, the clenching throat.

“You’ve been at this longer than me, old man,” Andy replied, gasping as she gagged on his dick.

“You’re not gonna be able to hold back if she keeps sucking you off like that, little boy,” retorted the older brother. “I’ve got experience on my side…”

“You got age on your side, man. That ripe ass is gonna suck your dick dryer ‘n the Sahara!”

“Put your money where your dick is.”

“Thanks, but my dick is happy right where it is…and so’s my money.”

“Girl, you make him cum, you get half my winnings.”

Before long, wagers were placed with all the men, on what Mike dubbed “Poke-her”.

For the first time, tiger began to fully let go. To be a fucktoy because of her boyfriends lame-ass, that was humiliating. This was sexually humiliating, but she’d never cum so hard, so many times. Her ass hurt, but it felt…good, too.

She squeezed her ass tight as Mark slid inside her again, and sucked deeply on Andy’s cock. She wondered what would happen if she got them to cum at the exact same time. She kind of wished her owner would get more involved. Her pussy was wet and empty, and she was suddenly almost desperate for him to fuck her, use her, take her hard and beyond her control.

“Stop cheating!” Mark slapped her ass, her hip, her thigh. Distracted, she stopped clenching, moaning around Andy’s cock.

Somehow it didn’t matter to her anymore which man won, she knew she was the ultimate winner. It was true that her boyfriend had gotten them into this mess…but now she began to think she owed him.  Not that she’d ever share that with him.

Princess (5)

She looked at the two man-snakes in her hands. One was large, with a thick and bulbous head. The other was not so large, but both had a heavy-looking sack hanging below. Both also had curly hairs there, and each had a little slit in the top of their staff. As her fists worked up and down, exploring the two man-snakes, they grew harder, longer. Small pearls came out of the slits on the top, and without thinking she lapped one, then the other. The taste was almost the same. The big one was a bit saltier, reminding her of the sea.

Both men stood, frozen in shock and lust as her unskilled hands rubbed in all the right places. Their hands linked on her head, and with each other, completing the circle.

She gazed from one cock to the other. She opted to taste the smaller one first. Mudge groaned as her hot mouth encircled his shaft, his hand pressing her head forward. His man-snake pressed towards the back of her throat, making her eyes water a bit, then he tugged her back by her hair. The head of his cock popped from between her pursed lips with an audible sound, making him moan again. Turning, she took Trey’s much longer, thicker rod into her mouth. The veins on this shaft were more pronounced, making her tongue feel the sensations more intensely. She felt a burning between her legs, and wondered at it.  Trey lurched forward, slamming his man-snake into her, surprising her, and making her stomach feel as though it would rise up, and then he was out of her mouth and turning her towards Mudge.

Moving between the two men, she felt them shivering as they got harder, thicker. Hips pumped as she worked with hands and lips and tongue, unknowing what the end of this dance would bring.

Two silver jets erupted from the men, nearly simultaneously, landing on her cheek, her chest, her fingers. She tasted, she licked, she lapped, a kitten to cream, until it was all gone. Her companions slumped, gasping, to the floor.

She watched, amazed, as the man-snakes grew smaller, and hid in their nest of curls once more. She was charmed at how they changed, from these small creatures, to the mighty and strong beasts they had been when she had played with them. Reaching out a tentative hand, she tried to touch Trey’s cock.

He stopped her.

“No, no, girlie, my cock is tired! ‘Sides, it’s our turn to make you feel good. But not here.”

“No, we outta put her in our bed tonight and play with her and make her feel good, too.”

“I wonder, girl, if anyone ever has touched you before.”

She shook her head, her heart racing. Finally, finally she would find out about all this…

A loud pounding interrupted the trio.

“OPEN UP, IN THE NAME OF THE KING!” a voice bellowed from beyond.

“Go, girl, go wash yourself and stay in your room.” Quickly Mudge stuffed his penis into his pants, drawing the string up.

“C’mming,” he said, with a quick wink towards Trey. He opened the door a scant moment after Ari’s door shut. A trio of guards, dressed in their red suits, stood at bored attention. The leader, a tall fellow himself, still needed to look up at the taller farmer.


“Clarence.” Mudge inclined his head. “Pins night already?” he asked, referring to a game that he and some of the soldiers engaged in.

Clarence hurrumphed, and shook his head, no.

“I’m here to take you and Trey and a girl to the king.”

“My sister’s brothers cousins mute daughter?” Mudge bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Girl!” Mudge yelled over his shoulder. “C’mon out here.”

“She’s a bit ….slow…” he said, his tone apologetic, but still loud. Ari heard him, and while she didn’t fully understand why, she came out, a bit hunched over, her hair a messy tangle still from being on the beach.

“This is the girl?” The tone of incredulity from the soldier confirmed that the Prince had run to daddy to try to wrest her away from them.

“This be her. We try to keep her clean, but she keeps…well, she’s slow.” Mudge tried to wipe away the soot that she’d smeared on one cheek, only further mussing her. She understood his warning scowl, and nodded once.

Without further ado, they were marched to the castle to be seen by the King.


King Eustice was old, potbellied, and jovial. His son stood by his left elbow, gloating, as Mudge, Trey and Ari were admitted to the King’s presence. His gloating smile didn’t last long as the trio came slowly down the center aisle, meant to intimidate newcomers. Ari had been raised with plenty of pomp, and the room had no effect on her. Mudge and Trey were too concerned for her performance to attend to the “intimidation” techniques, instead helping to keep her pace slow by a hand on each elbow.

“This is the gail?” the King spoke in a loud aside to his son, in a tone that clearly said “are you nuts?”

The Prince frowned.  Where had the pretty lass who had tumbled at his feet gone? Her hair was frizzled and frazzled, soot marked her face, and her eyes were vacant. In truth, Ari was staring beyond the prince, focusing on the tapestry of a unicorn that rose behind him, a full 20 feet or more across.


“This is the girl we are fostering,” confirmed Trey. “She’s a bit…slow, and mute. Our relationship is tangled, but she is in the way of being a cousin, Sire.”

“The daughter of the brother of the wife of the cousin of Mudge, Sir,” spoke the guard who continued to escort them to stand before the King.

“Close enough, then,” said Mudge with a faint smile.

“What is your name, gel,” barked the Prince. Ari looked at his feet. He snapped his fingers, and she jumped back, almost into Mudges arms, quivering and shaking.

“Now, now, son, you’ve frightened the poor unfortunate thing,” the King said, frowning at the Prince.

“It’s okay gail, we just wanted to be sure that your….best interests…were being attended to.” The King held out a hand, as he would to a stray cat. She shook her head, hiding against Mudge.

“Come, sweet darling, come see your Uncle King,” He crooned at her. “Get a confection from the kitchen, quickly,” he ordered a guard, and the man scurried off.

“I have a lovely treat for you, sweeting, if you come here and let me give it to you.”

She looked up at Mudge, a large tear slowly slipping down her cheek. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek hard to draw that single tear, and to hold back the smile that threatened at the King’s suddenly tender way with her. Mudge nodded encouragingly, and “whispered” that it was okay, that the King was kind and would not harm her.

Limping and listing, she made her way to where the King sat. In moments, the breathless guard bolted through the doors, and ran up to Mudge, before skidding to a halt, and stepping neatly to the King. The royal eyebrow raised at the performance of the guard, but he clipped the treat up quickly and dismissed the man, who, Ari was sure, wanted to fall gasping to the floor.

“Here, gel, come get your treat, now.” The King held the treat out.

Ari clasped her hands around her waist, and halted. Throwing a nervous glance back at Mudge and Trey, who made brushing motions to move forward, she took a halting step, and another.

“Majesty, are you considering taking her into yer court?” Trey asked, just as Ari took the treat and crammed it, in its entirety, into her mouth, chewing loudly. Food fell from between her lips, bespeckling the simple white shift she wore with pink and chocolate bits. She licked around her lips and smiled, the smears from the treat now spread evenly around her mouth. The King stared at her in horror, then looked to where the two men stood, a hopeful look on their faces, if He was any judge.

“No, no, not at all my dear friends. She will do well under your tutelage  I’m certain. I thank you for coming so promptly, but I am certain you have many tasks to attend to. Guard? Show these fine people the way out of the castle.”

He muttered something under his breath to his son, who looked on with a petulant face as they left. Ari swore she could feel his eyes boring into the soft flesh of her but-tocks. She knew the feeling of an enemy, now, for they had just made one.


Such an evocative word, sucks, especially to one from the…slutty persuasion, shall we say? To those of us who love to suck, it is a word rich with nuance…one of service, of pleasure given, and the pleasure we receive from pleasing our partners.

If life was fair (which is isn’t) I would be sucking, this weekend.

Alas, suck has another meaning. One that does NOT mean good things to cum, but that things have derailed, that plans have fallen through, that it “sucks”.

Master has been called out-of-town unexpectedly, and our meet for this weekend has bit the proverbial dust (which is just now covered in almost a foot of snow!).

He isn’t any  happier about it than I am, and it really made my heart feel good to know that. I mean…I know He misses me, but for Him to be obviously unhappy about it…well…it’s gratifying to be missed that way.

He’s been teasing me with this new weapon of His. During the search for holiday wrappings, He came upon an item which has been hiding in His closet, He said, for years. He sent me pictures which I won’t show just yet.

To say I’m a bit nervous about this “weapon” is an understatement. It has a spring. (more thawapping power) It has weight to it. And He has incredible strength with which to beat me with it.

“Master, it….kinda sounds like this thing will make me….cry.”

There is a long, pregnant pause.

Then a “hmmm” sound.

“I’d be very disappointed if it didn’t, nilla,” He says solemnly.


So all of that will have to be pushed out a few weeks, pushed back into the new year. Such is life, my friends. Sometimes you suck, sometimes you don’t.

Princess (4)

She sat curled up on the beach, pressed hard against the cliff. Her knees pulled up to her chest, chin resting on the top, silent tears marking passage down her pale cheeks.

She didn’t fit in here.

She wanted to. Desperately wanted to. The intonations of the Prince had made her nervous, and the tones of Mudge had been as protective as the guards back in her father’s castle. This prince was not like the mermen down below. He didn’t fawn over her, but looked her over as one would a tasty morsel. It didn’t take a genius to understand that they, the two men, were talking about that mating ritual.

Wasn’t that part of what she had come here for? To find her love, to discover the feeling of legs, to see and smell the air and be part of all of this “above” life? She was fascinated by gardens, and birds, and animals. By the two men she was “saved” by, and the little place they called ‘home’.

But she had a burning curiosity, too. What had the Prince wanted from her? Why had Mudge sent her inside? What had Mudge and Trey been trying to tell her?

The sound of the tide was louder. In an hour or less, the waves would cut off this spit of land, taking the choice from her. She could sit here, in the shadows, and become part of the sea once more.

“There you are! You scared the living daylights out of us! Whatever are you doing down here?”

She looked up at Trey’s worried face. Though he didn’t have the size of Mudge, he was every bit as strong. He lifted her easily from the sand, and siding his arm around her waist, began walking her towards the path up and away from the sea.


That evening, the two men were desperate to break the disconsolate air that came from the three of them. Mudge slapped his hands on the tabletop, startling both Trey and Ari.

“Let’s break out our fiddles and set this place to happy, Trey.”

Obligingly, Trey rose, and lifted the two fiddles from the wall. Mudge pushed the table to the far side of the room, moving the chairs away and clearing a small place in the center. He and Trey took up their instruments and began a cheery melody.

At first, her toes tapped. Then her fingers wove the counterbeat on her lap. Soon, her head was swinging and her mouth was smiling. Without thought, she rose and began swirling, twirling, dancing to the beat as light on her feet as moonbeams on water. One tune moved into the next, and still she danced.

At long last Trey dropped his arms, panting.

“Girl, you plumb wore me out!” He exclaimed, clapping a hand over his heart. Yet his face was wreathed in a giant smile, sublimed only by Mudges grin.

“You sure dance purty.”

Mudge took her hand, raising it to his lips in a courtly gesture. Her fingers curled around his, then raised to cup his cheek. He drew her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

“Purty girl, purty girl,” he crooned. In a moment, she felt Trey behind her, hugging her tightly.

“We’re family. We stick together.”

She felt warm, tender, cared for.

And a bit of something…else.

Her nipples rose and pressed against Mudges chest, even as she pressed her bottom back against Trey. She felt something poking her but-tocks. Wondering if it was his man-snake, she turned, and pointed. Trey flushed.

“Happens. Sorry.”

She shook her head, frustrated to not be able to say what she wanted to. She pointed to his crotch, then to her eyes.

“You wanna see my cock?” Trey’s eyes were wide, his tone one of disbelief.

She nodded vigorously.

He shook his head no.

“It ain’t right…” but his words cut off abruptly as she sank down and pressed her face against his groin, rubbing her cheek against the bulge.

“Freda!” he moaned. His hands pressed against her head, as if to push her away, but he held her there.

“Let her. Let her see…maybe she …maybe she likes you.”

Half turning, still on her knees, she put her small hand against Mudge’s large groin, looking up at him as well.

“Great Green Goddess! She wants to see us …both!”


This Would Have Been A Story…but…

…it’s all Master’s fault. 🙂 Really, it is!

Master and I haven’t spoken nor texted much over the last few days, with Christmas, and my working, and our familial responsibilities. He was out late Christmas night, and I went to bed early, and we just didn’t connect.

I’d had permission for two orgasms!

Yes! Two…

But I had a glass of wine before bed, and when I came up here, I did a wee bit of work, answering all the blog post responses over the last few days, and then I was overcome by sleepiness.

And fell asleep before I could even think about reaching for my vibe.

The last text I’d received from Him was permission to have 2 o’s on Christmas, OR one Christmas and one tonight (Wed.)…and I’d decided to extend the pleasure, since I know He won’t give me many O’s before a meet. Or, like last time, none, for a week.

But falling asleep cost me an O.

He texted me this morning (wed.) to ask me about how I’d decided to divvy up my o’s…and I had to admit to falling fast asleep. And then he texted me that I wasn’t allowed to keep the 1st o…it was gone with the zzzzzz’s.

He and I caught up via phone tonight, and He’s been teasing me mercilessly about sleeping through a double O. “Oh like you really needed an O, right. Like I’ll believe *that* when you say it, little girl.”

Whoops. The big meanie! I didn’t *mean* to fall asleep, but I was pretty tired. And He very much enjoyed tweaking me about the situation!

So…I would have been here, writing the next chapter of a story, but we talked for over an hour tonight…it was a lovely little chat, we don’t usually talk that long these days…and my writing time is now gone.

Or as Master says… “nilla, it’ s time to go pound your pussy.”

That’s why this isn’t a story, and why it is verrah short…coz some things are more important…and I *do* need to follow Master’s orders.


Off to take care of the (wonderfully exciting) task I’ve been set to! More writing Thursday night, perhaps!

Princess (3)

She met the prince on the third day on her feet. The first day had been one full of shock tinged with horror. She could not speak. She had trouble standing, let alone walking. For all his huge size, Mudge was gentle, and helped to guide her around the small cottage. That he and Trey were devoted to one another was something she learned quickly. They teased, they ribbed one another, they hugged, they argued. But at dinner that first night, as she sat on her new leg tops, what the men called her but-tocks, she watched as they held hands and said a blessing over their food. They had each taken one of her hands, pulling her into their circle.

She’d cried herself to sleep that night, exhausted by the physical transformation, and all the new sights and smells and sounds that assailed her senses. It was overwhelming.  Yet when she woke the next morning, moving seemed easier. She was lighter and more graceful on her feet, and she began to make sense of the larger world around her. The window in her room was open to the sea, and she heard the call of the water like distant music. Yet she turned her back to it, and moved into the day, promising herself to embrace it as fully as she could.

She had come, after all, to find her love.

Mudge and Trey helped her outside. The feel of the sun was the same, except not cooled by water lapping around her. Taking her hand, Trey guided her to the garden, and showed her how to weed between the neat rows of vegetables. It was there that a long shadow fell upon her. A hard swat against her but-tocks startled her into falling forward, face first into the dirt. Opening her mouth in a silent yelp of surprise only added to the mess, filling her mouth with soil.

Turning over, she saw him, his head ringed in a halo of light from the sun behind him. Shielding her eyes, she was dazzled by his up-close beauty. His eyes were dark and golden at once. His hair gleamed like the gold that she and her sisters found sometimes on the ocean floor. His doublet was rich deep blue, edged with white epaulets on the shoulders. His boots were tall and gleamed, as did his smile as he looked down at her laying at his feet.

“My, what a tasty morsel.”

She looked at the fistful of weeds in her hand, then up at him. Silently she proffered the greens. He tilted his head back and laughed.

Mudge came out of the house, tugging his forelock of hair and giving a short bow.

“Yer Majesty.” Although she didn’t know Mudge all that well, his tone carried a note of …disdain?

“You didn’t tell me you had such a pretty gel here, Mudge.  Hiding her away for yourself?”

Mudge shook his head, scowling a bit. Tricky ground here.

“She’s Trey’s family. His sisters husbands sister’s adopted daughter. She’s mute, and didn’t get along with her….” Mudge fumbled his way through the convoluted lie. “….stepfather.”

The Prince’s eyebrow raised as he tried to work his way around the lineage, then waved a hand in dismissal.

“She’s a prime piece, Mudge.”

“She’s not for sale, Majesty.” The note of censure was obvious, even to Ari. Yet the Prince rolled over the unspoken objection.

“Is this not my kingdom?” At Mudges terse nod, he continued. “Is this not my land? Why, even this little hovel is, by letter of the law, mine.”

Mudge bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. Fucking royal ass. The property they stood upon had been deeded to him by the Prince’s mother years ago, and well he knew it.

“By the letter of the law, Sir, the house and property are fairly mine. And she is family, mine and Trey’s to watch over.”

“You can watch.” The Prince’s crude humor made a rush of color rise in Mudges face.

“Go inside, girl and wash your face,” ordered Mudge.

“I will help,” offered the Prince.

“You’ve not been invited, Majesty. I bid you good day.” Turning his back on the Prince might be constrained as an insult, but Mudge was not a man of the courts, but a man of the earth.  He leaned back against the door, listening for what would come next.

He heard the Prince mutter under his breath, as he moved away. He’d bought them some time, then.


When Trey returned from the village, they sat at the table, holding hands, as Ari watched each of them avidly, trying to figure out what was being said.

“He’ll take her and use her and I can’t let that happen,” Mudge said, looking angry.

“It’s really her choice, Mudge. Maybe we should ask her.”

Carefully they walked around the issue, until she was so confused she shook her head, pulled her hands free, and ran to her room. Silent tears fell from her eyes as she tried to make sense of what they were not telling her.


An hour later, Trey knocked on her door.

“Girl, I’m coming in.”

He heard nothing through the door, and thinking she had fallen asleep, he opened the door to the wee room. The window stood open wide, with the sound of the sea filling the room.

She had left as quietly as she had come.


Ho Ho Ho! Random nilla-ness

I’ve been meaning to post this for more than a week…but things kept cropping up (get it, cropping? LOL I crack myself up sometimes!) and I never got around to it. And now here it is, Christmas Day for those of you who celebrate. I do, despite my pagan philosophy…I was raised in Christianity, and still find beauty in the old hymns, tho I may not agree with the content. 🙂 With kiddo’s in the house, it’s pretty hard to not go the traditional route…someday I’ll go back to a more earth-centered yule, but I am also very much enjoying the now.

Merry Christmas. Blessed holiday season. Joyous Noelle. Blessed Yule.  And good day to all the rest who celebrate nothing. Every day  is a celebration, even the hard ones. Someone at work the other day admonished a younger staff member to “not get old, it stinks” and I hollered out “Well, it SURE beats the alternative!” Which made everyone, even the speaker, say…oh. Right. So many of us have lost loved ones much to early, and really? It pisses me off when people say “oh, don’t get older” or “getting old sucks”. It sure isn’t easy, our bodies don’t always do what we think they should…coz in our heads? We’re still 20. But you will NEVER hear me say that getting older sucks…


….I’m just glad that you are here and reading my words, and the Mayan calendar wasn’t wrong, just misinterpreted. (or else by now we’ve all become protoplasm, and no one is reading. 🙂  <I know now that we’re still here…I just like the line about being protoplasm enough to keep it in my post-edit copy!!)

We’ve come into that darkest part of the year here in the northern hemisphere, where many of us rise and go to work in the dark, and come home the same way. When the tree’s are barren and bleak, the winds rustle up under pant legs and my skirt hem, and make us shiver and long for the heat of summer. All part of the wheel…but …it’s still kind of …well, I was going to say depressing, but that’s not the word…sere. Yes. Bland and boring. The colorful birds are rare, the air is quiet, the smell is of that dry and dusty scent that bespeaks “cold”.

Yet the “wheel” has turned, and even now we are slowly wending our way back towards the light. Back again, adding the (very, very, very) slight amounts of daylight to our days. We can’t see them, yet. The slivers are too thin. But by late January, the slivers will have added up, and if you look, you will notice that it isn’t *quite* as dark as you drive home at dusk.


I was thinking the other day about the Tsunami (Christmas, 2004)that happened…8 years ago in Thailand and other places…

I remember being in my car with my wife and family when I heard of the earthquake…the magnitude was immense and I remember saying “oh gods….there’ll be a tsnumi…why don’t they have tsnuami warnings up yet?” and an hour later hearing of the devastation.

Later, scientists said the earthquake was one of the strongest to rock earth, and had infact, tilted us on our axis, changing it. Just a wee bit.

But no one talks about that anymore. And suddenly our winters are milder (yes, I know, global warming and all is definitely a factor…but what if…?)….so what if? What if that little bit “off” has played a roll in our changing climate? Because it is decidedly true that the northeast has had several warm winters in a row, quite a phenomenon. Anyway, I just wonder.


Master has been a bit…wicked…for lack of a better word, for the last week or so. Sometimes He is quite lenient with me, so when He is in “Master-mode”…it always makes me take a mental step back. Kind of like when you turn wrong and your GPS lady says “recalculating”.

I was reading comments on aisha’s blog regarding her sanding experience which was wicked hot and funny too…and then several commentors said “don’t tell your Sir”, regarding the fact that she didn’t like something….

It’s a hard lesson to learn when you’re talking to your dominant isn’t it? I’ve *finally* almost broken myself away from just blurting out “Oh i *HATE* when blah-blah-blah”…because He will latch onto that like a hungry dog holds a bone!

Although, come to think of it, the other day when we were talking and He said something that I knew I would not like, I was just quiet…and He laughed and spoke of the fact that I was quieter than normal.

And I know he was jotting it down in his meantal “Dom” journal. Yes. That says mean-tal instead of mental. That was not an error. 🙂

More randomness…

……………am I the only one…

sky……………who sees a cloud cock?

I took this picture on the way to work a while ago (at a stoplight, just taking random sky pictures). When I got home later that night I looked at all my pics and saw the penis.

Then again..maybe it’s just me and my admittedly filthy mind..?!


On another random note, Master and nilla have a playdate scheduled (at last…!)!!!!! It’s been a long while since our last one, though not as long as for some of you, i know…and with a bit of luck, we’ll squeeze it in before the end of the year. I’m not saying exactly when, since the snow Goddess loves to fuck with me …and she’s not beyond sending a ginormous snowstorm on THE day…it’s has happened several times in the past.

The only bad part is that I have to work at my other job for part of the day…still, a short playdate is better than NO play date…that’s what I’m telling myself. I’ve actually  picked up a lot of extra hours for this job during the holidays…I’m working every day the four days before Christmas, including some time on Christmas eve day.  I’m glad of the work, to be sure. But it leaves nilla a tired girl. On the plus side? My wife has vacation that week, and it gives me a break from all the craziness that her being home engenders. Does that make me bad? Having my vanilla spouse at home for long periods of time is okay at first…but really? It gets to be really frustrating too.

It definitely curtails my time reading porn.

It definitely curtails my time writing porn.

So…yeah. Frustrating. I might as well be at work, rather than home getting pent up. And there is that Master visit to look forward to. 🙂


I’ve had a few good doses of Master time…some few stolen moments, and this past Saturday, over an hour together. And yes… we were naughty in Starbucks again. 🙂

Outside, He pinched me good. Gosh, I forgot how much pain He gives me, and so fucking easily. He just reaches out and *wham*! I’m “ouch”-ing, and moaning, and wrigging away. He pins me to the car with his body, then slides his fingers up and tickles me at the most unexpected moments, and makes me laugh like a lunatic.

I love that Man.

Earlier in the week, feeling out of sorts with the world,  I had texted Him that I needed medication.

And then quickly followed that up with a text reminding Him that He supplies the drug I need. (and He did deliver me a lovely little dose of it Saturday night)

For me…it’s true, and for you other subs out there, isn’t it?

Aren’t we  addicts, of a sort? We need our pain fix, Dammit! We need to be used, ravaged, fucked, bitten, slapped, caned, hairbrushed, ass-fucked, or what-the-fuck-ever our personal kink is. We NEED it. We CRAVE it. We really must have it to be whole, functioning people.

Having had a taste of it, there is no going back, at least for me. I cannot imagine how difficult it would be to totally snuff “nilla” and become…regular.

Boring? To be sure, oh yes.

Empty? Yes. Double yes, even.

Maybe saying that, “snuffing nilla” was a deliberate word choice by my quiet mind. Reminding me that I wasn’t fully alive back when all was just vanilla, when I was a good girl, who did all the things she had to, and never acted on any of those wildly inappropriate fantasies.

I’ve changed a lot in the past three and a half, four years. The reading, the eye-opening awareness of kaya’s blog…the fact that after I read about a particularly brutal beating and fucking that there was an actual puddle in the seat I’d been sitting on…shocked me.

Shocked me into an awareness that …in some way…I was like her.  That the idea of being beaten, and used for a fuckhole? Did something warm and wet and wonderful to me. So no, there is no turning my back on who I really am. I’m a slut. I like sex. I like being hit. I like taking pain, and I get off on it.

Until we’re together, behind closed doors again, He’ll feed me warm tidbits of what I need, a clamp here, a clothespin on my belly there.  Just a wee dose of what I need. But it will hold me…until He holds me, and gives me the full infusion of what I need most….Him, and the art of His pain.

The Visitor (3)

prior chapter here (yup, it’s been awhile!)

The north wind roared down from the Canadian uplands, throwing drifts of snow ahead of it like so much sugared frosting. The hills of Western Massachusetts were coated by midnight, as the trees shivered in the gale. Sneaky fingers of cold, dry air puffed down the chimney, crept through cracks around windows and doors, and made Sarah and Moma huddle close to the woodstove. The electric had gone off hours ago, the strong gusts of wind likely tearing down branches and power lines. Thankfully they had propane for the cookstove, and plenty of food put up. The cold cellar would hold their perishables through until the coolers came back on. It wasn’t at all uncommon for this to happen in the winter.

Sarah was glad she had finished chopping wood earlier this afternoon.  A goodly pile of wood was laid in here nearer to the stove,  but later she would have to go outside and haul in a few armloads for the morning. It was cold enough already that she was dreading the task.  With the wind scouring everything in its path, some areas were bare ground, while other area’s piled on deeply. Snow fetched up in the leeward side of the barn, 6 inches deep or more. Finishing her tea, she grabbed up her barn coat, her scarf, and her hat. Nearer to the door were her “wood gloves”, thick leather that would not let her take any slivers in tender flesh from the raw wood.

“You sure we don’t have enough for the morning already?” Moma hated her to go out, though Sarah wasn’t sure if it was opening and closing the door and letting drafts in, or worry that she’d be blown to Boston!

“Moma, if I don’t, we’ll be chipping ice off the toilet by morning.  When the wind is blown out, the temp is supposed to drop below zero. If I wake up in the middle of the night, I can stoke the stove then. And then we’ll be short and have to go out in our jammies.” She shivered at the thought.

“Well, be careful out there, girl. I’m going to bed. Sleep well, my darling.” Standing on tiptoe, Moma rubbed her cheek against Sarah’s, then whispered “I love you, honey,” before turning and heading down the hall to her bed, the glow of her flashlight brightening the darkened hallway.

Sarah tugged her scarf up over her nose and mouth, until she could barely see. Despite the storm and the night, snow did curious things in the dark…there was plenty of “snow-glow” to see by. She stepped into the mudroom, and girded herself. Opening the door, the wind tugged it out of her hands and slammed it back shut. She had to lean all her weight on it to get outside. What an assache it was going to be to bring the wood in! She’d not be able to carry many pieces if she had to manhandle the door every damn time. She trudged down the stone path to the neat stacks of cordwood.

Pausing, she went on full alert.

She thought she heard…something. The wind howled viciously around the corner of the house. Maybe that was it.  Or maybe it was a cougar. People claimed to see them up here from time to time, despite the fact that they’d been extirpated a hundred years ago. Still, she doubted one would be out and hunting in this sort of weather; everything was hunkered down in their dens, except, of course, for her.

She walked alert for any signs of movement. All she saw was the skirling motion of snow caught in the wild eddies of the wind. She grabbed 3, 4, 6 pieces of wood, then turned. Had there been something there? In the shadow of the house? Her heart kicked up a notch and she held the pile loosely, except for one piece that she could brandish as a weapon, if need be.

It watched her from the shadows. She had nearly seen him, coming out of the  house unexpectedly as she had. The bipeds had never come out of their den before, into the darkness, not since the weather had turned more temperate.

He loved the wailing winds here, the sharp bite of the air, the swirling snowflakes, all reminding him of a home he had never been to. Yet his ancestral memories were of just such a place as this.

He watched as she froze again. He wondered, for a moment, if she would come to him, but watching the nervous way she held the chunk of fibrous material that she had been beating at earlier in the day, he could see that she was in hunting mode, and not sexing. Yet he could not resist studying her. Remaining still, she would not see him, as he blended in with his surroundings.  He knew that she used this as fuel to warm her hut, understanding that she was terribly weaker than he.

Knowing that made his tentacles curl in mirth. He’d begun inserting thoughts into the heads of the bipeds. Thoughts that would begin to stir them into a state of preparedness when he would be ready to enter their domain, and interact with them. That time was almost here.

Stepping onto the porch, she dropped her wood, and made a quick sprint back to the woodpile for a second armload. This time she carried one of the pieces with her…just in case. She felt silly, but also safer with it. The shiver wasn’t caused only by the cold, but by the persistent feeling of being watched.

It took several trips, bracing the door with her foot, to get all the wood inside the mudroom. It shut with a fierce thud, and she was doubly glad to be inside. The mudroom was cold enough to see her breath in, and the thermometer on the wall read 18 degrees.

Shortly she had her wood stacked inside, and a cup of tea brewing. She had  a great book to read about time travel on her kindle, and had warmed a rectangle of soapstone on the woodstove. Wrapping it in flannel, she carried the warming stone to her bed to put her feet upon.

She fell asleep with the light on.

A Fast Note …

LOTTTTTA hours at work these last few days BUT….

did get 90 minutes with the Master-Man Saturday evening after work. He bought me dinner and tea and we were the ONLY ones in Starbucks so He tickled and sneak-pinched me good, and I was laughing SO loud…

when it was time to go the barrista was sad we were leaving (they told us so) and said that I have a “lovely laugh”…so sweet!

And I even finished my holiday shopping afterwards!

On a sad note, my kitty got out on me this morning as I left for work. VERY hard to see a black cat (yeah, I know, a witch with a black cat!) in the pre-dawn darkness…and she was still half-missing when I got home.

She’s in the cellar and won’t come out (no house entry from the cellar). Eventually she’ll get hungry enough to come in, I hope. Snow tomorrow night and maybe a BIG storm on Thursday/Friday. Hopefully, she’ll get caught SOON.

‘nite, every one. ONE more day of work before a 4 day vacation …. woot!!! (Man do my feet hurt…34 hours in 3 days, mostly on my poor tootsies!)