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!”