A Wee Bit of This-n-That…

Thanks for the lovely comments on the last two posts…I am trying to get caught up on back responses…you know how I hate when I fall that far behind. But I love all the great Dr. Strangeguy comments…the story just kind of fell into my head when I was driving the family back from an outing. Yeah, I know, weird. And it wasn’t even the grocery store!

Today was a typical Saturday, no sofia to break up my workweek…and I’ve been missing her. She is so sweet. But today it was back to reality, so off I went to work. Master took forever to text me His morning greeting…we have a cardinal rule that we each MUST text the other at LEAST in the morning and evening. HE will tell you that I text 188 more times during the day (I don’t really), and he responds to two of them. (He does, really.) So in my oh-so-submissive-way (insert snort sound here), I texted him (again) asking if He was still alive, and if HE violated our standing rule, did that give me 9-seconds free-attack on His nipples?

To which He replied to leave His fucking nipples alone.

(works, every time. hehehe)

It was uncertain if He could meet me after work. I told Him it was okay (truly, pulling up those “big girl panties” and dealing can be hard at times) since He had given sofia and I three hours last weekend.

But He texted me back and said He’d meet me! I couldn’t stay long, but gosh, that wee touch is so important. I left, beaming. He followed me out to the car and kissed me, and tickled me. He loves to make me giggle.

“You’re such a silly slut,” He smiles, shaking His head. These times with Him are every bit as precious as the times behind closed doors when He is tender, and direct, and pain-giving. They sustain me. The memory will linger with me through the week, making me smile even when my children are driving me up the frigging wall…

I’ll remember the great sweetness of His smile, His “faux” gruff voice, the feel of His hand holding mine, and everything will snap back into “good” again.

Here’s hoping that your today will be full of “good” moments, too!

Surprise in Aisle 4

So there I was, in the middle of aisle four in my grocery store, looking at my breakfast cereal options. Although I am normally a big fan of O’s…when I’m looking at cereal boxes, the kind that are made into circles are my least favorite. I like flakes, being one of them myself, so I’m comparing them, side by each in my hands.

“Well, well, well, nilla,” says an oh-so- familiar voice.

“uh…uh…Hi…Dr.” I manage to sputter out.

Remember how awkward it was when you were a kid and you saw your most hated/feared/dreaded teacher in some innocuous place? Like at a baseball game, or at the pizza joint? And there she was all smiles and blue jeans and you thought….what the fuck? with a mix of emotions, as if she didn’t belong there, fucking up your event by the very whiff of school that encircled her?

That’s how I felt just then, confronted in the grocery store by my sex therapist, Dr. Strangeguy. Now, don’t get me wrong…I don’t hate, fear, or dread seeing him.  I mean, I’ve been to see him several times over the years, and each time to try to figure out why I am the deep and dirty slut I am.

Okay, well maybe I do dread it..a little bit.

Each time I find something new out about me, and about this guy –this infamous Dr. Strangeguy, who leads me down some path that I’d not thought about before.

All thoughts of fiber content versus protein flew out of my head as he approached, his trademark bandy-legged walk perhaps exaggerated a bit, as he moves into my personal space. Then again, anytime I see Dr. Strangeguy I feel like he’s in my personal bubble. Sometimes when he’s all the way across the room, even. He’s just that good at getting under my skin, I guess.

There is a genuine smile on his face, no fake white gleaming grin for him, but the normal smile of a man in his 60’s. It’s his eyes that get me, though. The smile isn’t there, exactly. He’s weighing me, digging into me already.

“Watching your cholesterol are you, nilla?” he asks, and I find myself wondering if he’s really asking about my blood numbers, or if there is more to that, some kind of euphemism that I’m clueless about.

“Ah…no…I…just looking at fiber?”

“You’re having trouble shitting?”

The gleam in his eye deepens and the words “involuntary enema” circle my head.

“No! Not at all, Doctor, really. I’m looking to boost my protein.”

His smile widens.

“Well nilla,” he says, the slick bite of his Maine drawl catching my attention, and bumping my heart rate up several notches. I have no idea what light just flicked on in him, but something sure lit him up.

He continues as if I hadn’t just had a momentary fight-or-flight response to that dangerous grin ‘n gleam.

“I have just the answer for that little problem. So easily resolved too. Come with me.”

His words don’t allow for a disingenuous excuse. Still holding the two boxes of cereal, I follow along.

“My sister’s husbands half-brother’s son-in-law is the manager here. He’ll let us go into the back room for a private session. You look a bit bemused, girl.” With a chuckle, he moves forward, his gait very quick for one who walks like he’s been on ships for most of his life, rather than picking through people’s brains.

He passes a young-ish man at the end of the meat aisle, nodding back towards me. The man gives me the once over, making me get goosebumps in my unmentionables, then one single, slow nod.

“Later,” says Dr. Strangeguy to the man, who I take to be his scrambled relative. These Maine people have some peculiar family trees; far be it from me to attempt to decipher their connection.

We pass through those metal doors with the half-moon glass on them. You know, the ones that are universal in every grocery store? Behind them is a cold room that makes me shiver in earnest, and move a bit faster. We pass through that outer room, and the Doc moves through another set of doors into a corridor. It’s all gun-metal gray walls, floor, doors, ceilings here, and I wonder that anyone can see any separation. It’s bland and boring as hell, but somehow the Doctor knows where he is. About three doors down he turns a knob and suddenly we’re in a verrrrry small office.

Okay, “office” is too grand a word for this place. There is a simple wooden chair, a diminutive wooden desk with 2 drawers on one side, and a center drawer, and a metal trash can filled with crumpled paper.


He gestures to the chair. He moves to sit on the desk. This puts his crotch at a level with my face.

“You know what to do, nilla,” he says. His voice is firm, and soft, and warm. It’s a caress and an order.

I’m still holding the frigging cereal. I’m trying to think. OH. Put boxes down. I put one on each side of his hips, then reach for his fly. I’m not sure how it always comes down to this, but somehow? It always leaves me feeling better.

In moments his cock is in my hand, almost at full staff, too. My thumb and forefinger can barely reach half-way ’round his shaft, so I use two hands to cradle him. His hands go to my head pushing me forward.

“Open and take it deep, slut, so that you can get your full allotment of protein…”

His thickness fills my mouth, the silken texture of his warm skin at odds to the absolute hardness of him. Hard, soft, salty, sweet–his cock is all these juxtaposed things. I slurp, covering him with my saliva, licking the length, lapping the head, sucking down and up his cock in a teasing manner. He likes this, but soon, his hands grab my hair firmly, and direct his penis into my mouth once more. He slides up over my tongue, pressing against the resistance at the back of my throat. He is unimpressed as I gag on the girth of him, holding me right there on the edge of puking, before pulling out.

“Next time, deeper, slut,” his growled words barely register now, as this thing we are doing is having that magic effect on me, calming me even as I fear the gagging gasping parts. My breath times to his thrusts, my lips suckle and suck at him each time he pulls away, and soon his thatch of graying short ‘n curly hairs are tickling my nose, making me want to sneeze.

Do you know how hard it is to sneeze when a man’s cock is halfway to your stomach? Impossible!

He grinds my face against his belly, I whine at the deep intrusion preventing breath, as he groans. In seconds he pulls back and my mouth fills with the salty tang of semen.

After a few moments to recover, he bids me to rise. His hand checks between my thighs, rubbing across my panties. I hump against his hand, making him chuckle.

“She’s ready,” he says, and I turn to see that man from the meat aisle behind me, his cock  in his hand, rigid as a piece of lumber.

“Now, you wet and greedy slut,  you take good care of my cousin, and he’ll take good care of that needy little pussy. You’ll get protein in both ends today.  Then it will be off to finish your shopping. OH…and one more thing–no more dodging appointments with me, got it?”

He chucks me under the chin as if I were five. I nod. I have been avoiding him, that’s true. I mean, I have to live in my head all the time…having to spew these bits and pieces every few months is hard work…and who has time for it?  Apparently I need to make more time.

He slides off the desk, and has me lay facedown on it, head braced on my folded arms. My ass juts up, and I can feel the crotch of my panties stuck to my swollen and wet pussy. My skirt is folded up to my waist, and my panties are just tugged to the side. A fantasy, a dirty girl fantasy, just as I’ve told Dr. Strangeguy about in the past. Getting fucked while not even being allowed to be naked is so slutty.

It also feels pretty damned good! He fucked me hard,  as Dr. Strangeguy stands and watches. Being fucked from behind by a stranger is a bit embarrassing,  being used as a fuckhole.

It’s also incredibly hot.

I had the best 6 orgasms I’d had all week.  He took the cereal boxes with him when he went back to work, as Doc said I wouldn’t need more protein today. He walked me out to my car, a good thing since my knees were kind of wobbly from all those orgasms, and told me not to touch myself for the rest of the day, to let that cum leak onto my panties, and to only take them off tonight. I should save them, he said, to be a visual reminder of my purpose…to be a cum filled slut.

I never even noticed when he tucked a card for an appointment into my bra. I only found it when I got home and got naked, except for the panties.

I held the card in my hand as I fell into a deep, restful sleep, thinking, “thanks, Dr. Strangeguy, for knowing exactly what I need.”





this is a challenge post –not sure how we got talking about it, but we did, and this is the result. warning–dragons–might ook you out…but may make you wiggle in your chair, too. 🙂 ~nilla~

“Lovely.” He looked down at her, his eyes dark and dangerous.

She shook her head, eyes begging him to release her.

“Now, slut, you know the rules. You signed the papers for a weekend with a deviant, no strings attached, no permanent harm–and we still have all day today.”

A tear slid down her cheek, to be caught on his finger, and spread upon her nipple. It rose to his touch. He slid the clamp on quickly, expressionless until the soft moan escaped around the gag. The smile was brief, barely playing along the curves of his sensual lips. Scooping another tear, he wiped and clamped her other nipple.

“That goes right to your clit–we proved that well enough last night when I fucked you. You are very responsive to nipple pain.”

The cotton sheet under her back cooled her, even as his words, and the fucking clamps, raised heat between her lower lips. Legs tied wide, she was open to his view. She wasn’t sure what was coming next, but it scared her, that gleam in his eyes.

A blindfold covered her eyes, tripping up her heartbeat. There was a squeaky sound as he lifted the lid of the styrofoam cooler. He hadn’t shown her what was inside. She imagined an ice dildo, something cold. There was nothing for long minutes.

And then a bumping against her pussy. Something cool, some kind of dildo, definitely NOT his cock, and besides, he was beside her, his fingers grabbing and squeezing her tits every so often.

He hummed in pleasure as whatever he was inserting into her pressed through her lips and moved against her pussyhole. It was the biggest dildo she’d ever felt. And it wiggled somehow. It wasn’t unpleasant, just different. After a few minutes, something hard pressed against her, and she grunted as it oh-s0-slowly was pressed into her. The feeling of suction, of something moving inside her, and of being very full confused her.

His fingers pinched her clit, making her clench inside, creating a furious wiggling inside of her. Squealing, she moved her hips. His fingers pinched her clit, released, rubbed, until she was cumming, back arched, teeth biting into the hard rubber ball of the gag. What was he fucking her with? She almost passed out as it twisted inside of her, another orgasm erupting through every pore of her body. She collapsed, drained, but the dildo continued to fuck around inside of her cunt.

“ooooppp” she moaned around the gag, begging him to stop fucking her. She needed a moment, despite his deviance, to recover. Likely, as he had yesterday, he would make her cum over and over until she fainted, working to make her cum even though she was unconscious. His next words made her shudder with horror.

“The African snail is the largest snail in the world. And he loves slurping up pussy juice.  He’ll slip his love dart into your hot cunt, turning you into a voracious slut. He’ll move around inside you, making you cum over and over again. All you need to do to get him out…is stop cumming….”

Am I Boring You Yet?


frankly I’m amazed I have any readers with all this real life stuff I’ve been posting and almost zero stories…but wait…isn’t real life a story, too? Oh yes…not a “storybook romance” in typical vanilla fashion, but definitely a story.

I wish I had some erotica to sprinkle in…only thoughts of His hand weaving into my hair as He kisses me brainless, His hand smacking me–hip, ass, thigh, arm–stinging, hurting, and feeling so right. Being so amazingly high as He fucks me silly, or pinches me, or bites. He is a wicked fierce biter, and it hurts like fuck-all, and makes me whimper and purr.

But this for now is fantasy. The reality of a meet is still weeks away, maybe more if we can’t make the timing work for us. But I’ll still get to see Him after work this weekend and that helps.

One of the things I have been meaning to mention is about Felt Tips, that sensual anthology that I got my first published story in. Thus far it is only available in e-format, and it has made just over $2500 in six months, which is phenomenal! No one of us is making any money on it; all the profits are going to charity. Which one? Adopt-A-Classroom, which says that for every dollar sent they can get about $25 dollars in school supplies for kids classrooms. And isn’t it rather reprehensible that we have to have fundraisers for school supplies for children, but we (as a country) have no trouble  making giant flying bombs? (not going there today, just a mini rant–if one sentence actually equals a rant)

So all that is good news. Eventually the book will come out in paperback so we’re hoping to at least double our take — well, I am anyway. So, if you’re in the mood for a sexy set of office erotica, do browse your e-book shop and look for Felt Tips!

On a different note…

Did I mention that when I was helping sofia decide what to pack to come here, that the forecast was for cooler than normal, no heat in sight? Last week was so chilly we had all the windows closed…but of course we still wore shorts…its summer even if it’s only 62° out! But I thought that since she’s from the south, that she’d be freezing if she came up here and it was that cool, not to mention how frigging cold Boston can be with the sea breeze, which can easily drop the temperatures 15°-20° if the east wind kicks up, something that happens a LOT at this time of the year. It’s great for the City folks, while we central people are roasting (the phenomenon only extends about 10 miles inland, though once in a while it will push a bit further inland…but never as far as we are.)

Late Thursday night I happen to watch the weather. My week was pretty chaotic with my spouse gone to the left coast for work, so my weather watching time was greatly diminished. Did I almost shit a brick when the forecaster says “heat wave for New England” starting Friday and extending through the weekend and into this week?  You bet I did. I got ahold of sofia and let her know the update, but really? When she got here she was all “oh, it’s fine, it’s like home…a bit cooler actually.” While I’m standing there, sweat pouring down my back, my face red, my arms getting sunburnt, feeling like someone had stuck me in a sauna, there she is, cool as a cucumber. 🙂

All in what you’re used to, right?

So, one more funny sofia and Master story and then I need to get my butt in gear and do something productive. 🙂

Between calling sofia by her vanilla name, as well as her blogging name, I was confusing Master. “Wait…is this the same one?” He said to me on more than one occasion. After a while, He decided that He was going to call her by a different name. (He can be that way, you know!) The name He decided to call her?  Was Ralph. (insert sounds of cackling laughter from me…)

“Ralph?” I struggle to say, between bouts of hysterical giggles.

“Really, Master? Ralph? You won’t use it to her face?”

“Sure I will.”

So I think, He’s just trying to get my goat. Just tweaking me. Don’t you know He DID say it to her? Thankfully she was forewarned, and we laughed about it, but really, Ralph? Laughing, just laughing. He is a nut that way. We share a very strange humor –Master and nilla–and here I spent most of my life thinking *I* was the only one wired that strangely! NOT! And isn’t it lovely that we found one another in the first place?

And even better that we find one another *that* funny after all this time together?


*insert goofy, lovesick smile here*





Snippets and Thoughts

I know you all are just dying to find out about Master from sofia, aren’t you? I’ll tell you a little secret…me too! Of course I want her to like Him. Will she be as charmed by him as I am? Doubtful—because I think it’s very different looking at us from the outside in. We’ve had a long time to build our dynamic, and some of it is very silly, and some of it is very intense, and some of it is vanilla, and at the bottom, the base of it? Is His underlying Dominance.

I smacked His shoulder while we were fooling around and she gasped out loud.

“You…you…hit Him…” she said, her face totally amazed (and perhaps a bit aghast. I wonder if she thought for just one moment that He’d smack the fuck out of me there in public for being overbold?)

“No, she’s allowed.” He says in a calm, just slightly amused voice.  And it’s true. I touch, I prod, I run my finger up and down his arms, I catch his fingers and kiss them now and again–and I do try to reach the Man nipples (oh those are SO off-limits!).

He reminds me later, and sofia, that it may not look like He’s keeping a tally, and He may well forget specific infractions, but there is a bill, and it will be paid later. She laughs, a wonderful rich laugh, and I’m grinning. She gets it.

He comments on my hair, first time he’s seen the ‘fixed’ color and blessedly, he approves. He notes that He’s not overly concerned with the color…but that I damn well better not ever cut it (must have prior approval)…because He likes it just where it is now, mid-back. (And longer is fine…just NO shorter!) He takes my ponytail and plays with it, crooking my head back so I’m staring skyward, pushing my face almost into the table, but never so hard as to make me wince–just move quickly with Him. He demonstrates how easily He can control me, I think, and I’m just smitten.

He pinches, too, making me wince and talk all fumble-tongued. It happens so fast, my fall into subspace.

And He shows her His favorite picture of me (which really freaked me out because He HAD threatened me that He might show her one of my videos. Yes. There are video’s of nilla being fucked by that guest Dom last fall.) I grab his hand, and she says, “oh, I saw that one…that was on your blog, nilla!”

And I’m so relieved. Yeah, the one where I’m totally blotto on the bed. He tells sofia its his favorite thing to do to me, make me totally out of it…so He can get a few minutes peace. 🙂 Silly Man.

And it made me so happy. To share him with her, of course. But to see Him again after 3 weeks apart. We’ve rarely had times when we didn’t connect again soon after a meet…and this time it just didn’t work out that way for us. I felt myself just melting into His presence. My back relaxes, my head quiets and calms, even my breathing is deeper, slower.

He affects me.

He feeds me bits and pieces of Himself, and rewires me so that I feel like myself, only better.





That electric moment when He looks at me, when we are gazing at one another, me challenging, He saying without words…’oh yeah, little girl? You think?”…and my eyes falling as I slide deeper down into Him.

He kisses me tenderly, then flicks his tongue into my mouth as he tickles me into the car. I watch Him walking away, and swallow the lump in my throat. I miss Him, and yet He’s managed to top me up so I don’t feel despondent at leaving.

He’s really good at that, that filling me up thing.

He’s really good for me.


Three Sluts Walked Into A Restaurant….

It’s late, I’m desperately overtired, but I have to post this picture. It is Jz, sofia, and me, nilla the slut. Well, we’re all sluts, aren’t we? I just read somewhere the phrase “the dreaded smiley face” so I’m reluctant to use that fun little icon but picture me smiling. Because getting to meet and talk and share a slice of ourselves was frigging awesome.

I know the thing I MOST wanted, wayyyy back when I first started reading blogs, when I was too scared to even consider writing one, I wanted to SEE these people who led these fabulous lives. I wanted to see the marks their dominant ones left on them. I wanted to know the color of their hair, what their eyes looked like–I wanted to know them.

Hmmm…I just used all past tense. Interesting, that. Because the curiosity is there. And I know several people, bloggers, who are IRL friends/facebook friends, who know one another. But in a lifestyle that could be so potentially harmful if one teeny slip occurred, it is very hard to want to post something that could out one of us.

In fact, I’m pretty laissez-faire about it. I don’t WANT to be outed, of course, but I have trust that my fellow FB friends stand to lose as much as I would should there be outing. 🙂 (drat…I used the smiley icon. OMG I’m no longer a credible writer, am i? *am laughing my butt off here*)

But I have a Master who watches out/over me, and helps me work through the minefields of my attitude. . . who strictly monitors what i post for pictures here. Although I have not run this one by Him formally, I’m sure He’ll approve of my posting of my new REAL-life friends, Jz and sofia. 🙂 BTW…that impressive rack in the middle is NOT mine. 🙂 That’s some *impressive* boobage. I’ll let her identify if she so chooses… LOL….

crop-3So…three sluts walk into a restaurant, and wind up getting kicked out.. okay, it was three hours from when we walked in….”We’re terribly sorry, but we’re about to close….”

The poor dear trails off, obviously desperate to catch some Saturday night action of her own, which doesn’t include nurturing 3 obviously silly older gals who are hooting and laughing and generally causing a ruckus. We packed our selves out and headed out into the night, Jz helpfully guiding us to where we parked our car. We slid off into the gloaming, happy, tired, a bit hoarse, yet so full –and not just from the meal–but from one another.

And now, dear peeps, although it is morning as you read, most likely, it is late, and I’m so tired. That sofia. She just exhausted me (laughing my BUTT off, sister!!!)!



A New Day…

I’ve been having the best time! Did I say that last night? Ah, well, it bears repeating.

Sofia is the easiest of guests…and I don’t mean that in a slutty way. (laughs) She is fun and insightful and my kids and wife adore her. (Not that that’s unexpected, right?) We’ve done a few local things, walking and a street fair nearby…and she was as happy watching the fire trucks roll by with air horns honking as my daughter was. It was a good day, with sun and fun and laughter and street pizza and gelato and cookies. It’s really nice to hang out with someone who enjoys doing simple things like a local street fair (there are a lot of colorful people here, as I’m sure there are everywhere!)

Getting to meet Jz at the end of the day was as sweet as the frosting on my red velvet cupcake. She is as boldly honest IRL as she is on her blog, and has a great laugh. And she’s tall. Okay, that may be a misnomer, since really? I’m short and she’s likely “normal”…and both her and sofia’s smiles light up a room. It is really neat to meet a fellow blogger–to get to meet two of them? It’s super special.

Later today sofia will meet The Man. I’m excited. I made sure to make a run to Michael’s to refurbish my supply of heart stickers. 🙂 And while she’s commented on her blog that I’m the Domme of my house (yeah, kinda hard to be submissive when running a house with 4 kids, right?) –when Master is in the room? Okay, I’m *still* a smartass…and teasy….but there is never a doubt which of us is in charge.

What else lies ahead? Maybe some dancing, some touristy stuff, a trek into the Big City, and who knows what all we’ll get ourselves into. That’s the fun of company — no plans, just let things roll as they will.

Enjoy your Sunday!

(I get to see Master after two weeks without Him…woot woot woot!!!)




Planes, subs, and Automobiles


Having company in the form of a new friend is awesome, EVEN when her plane is late, peeps! sofia is soft and strong, warm and caring, sweet and smart, sexy and practical all at once. We’ve really hit it off, bigtime.

And for a double treat, got to meet a fellow subsister blogger, Jz, tonight. It is kewl to meet someone you admire very much–her insights and comments are thoughts that simmer and resonate.

It’s been a good weekend thus far–and there is more on the horizon. But it is late, and I am weary.

There will be stories in the days ahead, but for now? Sleep is needed to reboot my brain.

‘nite, all!

Done and Waiting

It hardly seems possible that a day I’ve been anticipating for a long while has finally arrived! First day of summer, and a visit from a fellow blogger…how neat is that? Sofia and I will do much talking and tea drinking and hanging out this weekend…and everything I needed to attend to…is done. 🙂

Well…except for weeding.


Happy Weekend, All…it’ll be quiet from here until Monday…until then, go forth and be kinky!