bruises and bewbies

We met for ice cream on Sunday night. Our favorite place is closing soon for the season and He invited me down for what might be our last two scoops until next year.

It was chilly. It’s 49 as I write this; I’m guessing it was in the low 50’s and falling fast as the sun set–and we were doubly chilled coz, you know, ice cream.

I suggested we move to my car (He is super fastidious and doesn’t like food in His car. Me? With kiddo’s? hahahahahaha…don’t be redunculous!

We sat there, much warmer out of the wind. And then He began. Pinching. Hair pulling. Trying to pop my ice cream on my nose. He made me giggle–and whimper. Oh ouch my arms! He pinches like a fucking lobster.

And He’s so fucking funny about it. His eyes heat up, His hands dart out, and then He’s frigging tickling me. Remember I wrote about those fucking tickles just yesterday? Gods, I laugh and squirm…

Finally we finish our cones, and He pulls me down across His lap with a fierce tug on my ponytail. And while there, slides His hands into my vee-necked shirt, pinching and pulling on my tits. Finding my nipples, He rolls them. Tugs them. Twists them. Pinches them.

I’m squirming, moaning, whimpering…and then crash into orgasm. Geezus!

He pushes me up, then attacks my arm and thigh again, pinching, pinching. His eyes shift to my tits.

TUG!

I’m across the two seats again, head in His lap. I struggle, and try to pinch HIS nipples…He catches my hand, secures it, and  proceeds to work my tits again. I’m gasping and breathing hard…it hurts a lot…but I’m also so turned on I’m about to explode…and He stops.

Just before I cum.

“Get up, slut.” And He pushes me upright. I slump against the door, panting.

“I was so close…” I moan.

“I know,” He says, and laughs.

There is more  horseplay, more pinching, more tit mauling, and I cum again from His hands on my tits. (And today of all days I wore black undies..now all stained. Tsk.)

I’m bruised, and tired.

Filled with ice cream–and Him.

I’d say I’m sated, but that would be a lie…I’m never really sated with Him. I always want more.

I think He likes that.

🙂

Whooops! I’ve Got Cum on My Shoe!

You know how it is when you’re laying in bed, that moment *just* before you drop off? You’re there between awake and asleep, and time slips and slides around in no particular order. There is no past/present/future, only *now*, and all things happen in this now.

Have I confounded you yet?

Stay with me on this…this is the time when I remember things. Now, you all know I’m not a sweet young thing any more. And there are some things that I just forget. And this is the time when they seem to “float up” to me.

That’s what happened last night as I was just in that place and time. I remembered.

Clearly.

One sentence from Master’s lips just hovered in my thoughts.

“Whoa…wait a minute there, slut. You have cum on your shoe.”

That memory made me wake up a little bit. When the fuck had He said that? Oh…oooh…right, when He was *here*. A few weeks ago. Now, I’m guessing most subs will relate to this, that in those blissed-out periods of subspace, things just happen and fade away. To remember every little thing right away just isn’t possible. We’re too overwhelmed. Passion, pain, excitement all combine to create a whirlpool of sensations that suck all memories into that vortex…and who knows when it will pop back out?

Four weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since we played.  How long it took for that little memory to work its way up to the fore of my brain.

I laid in my bed, now really thinking about this. What the heck was I doing that caused cum to leak from me onto my shoes? All I really remembered was spending time on my back, on my belly, and cumming.

A lot of cumming.

He was gentle on me as far as pain goes.  He had an accident the week prior and told me that He wouldn’t be at “full power” (yet there were still bruises afterwards…the Man pinches like a demon! Not to mention what He can do with mouth and teeth…!) But He did torture me with orgasms. It sounds like an oxymoron, doesn’t it? We beg for pleasure, then moan when there is too much of it. Quixotic creatures, we sluts.

And then I remembered.

At some point He tugged me off the bed, ordering me to my knees. At this point I had no idea which way was up. Totally blotto, blindfolded, awash in sensory overload. As I sucked His cock, as I gagged and moved about on the floor, at some point my feet were below my cunt. And I leaked.

On my *shoes*.

This is a major issue when your Dom has a shoe fetish. One must NOT soil the shoes!

cropped-cropped-img00042-20110501-164611.jpgThese shoes.

He slides the shoe off my foot and starts wiping it. I hear Him muttering about cum and suede and I’m starting to fret.

“There, got it all off,” He says.

“Master, should You perhaps check the other one?”

“Great idea,” He agrees, and takes the other one off.

“You know what else I need to check?” His voice is serious, but calm. I’m still blindfolded, but I feel Him settle on the bed by my legs.

“What Master.”

‘YOUR FEET!” He yells triumphantly, as He lays across my legs and begins tickling them! Totally, completely unexpected. A terrible torture. I go NUTS when He tickles me, giggling maniacally. He laughs and teases, sliding a single thumbnail from heel to toes (which drives me wild!), then rubs between each toe. For whatever reason, my left foot is more ticklish. Perhaps because it was my right ankle that I broke and it made my foot less tickly? Not sure, but for whatever reason, I was squirming, moaning, trying to get away. I laughed so hard I was crying, my sides aching, wrists bound to my thighs with the velcro cuffs, unable to tug on Him, unable to defend my poor tootsies. If you’ve never been tickle tortured, you cannot understand the sneaky meanness to it. You’re laughing, and being hyperstimulated. You’re laughing and yet you want to hit, claw, beg, moan, cry, scream to make it stop…oh…gawd…it’s too, too much. You’re laughing and yet–you think you might *kill* Him if He doesn’t fucking stop!!

And somehow, in that magical Dom way He has, He does stop. Stops just before I think I will die from the laughing, from the stimulation. I’m not sure what happened after that. I’m not totally clear on what came before. All I know for certain is that once more I swallowed His ‘bait’…hook, line, and sinker.

Tricked.

Again.

By cum, on my shoe. And a very clever, devious Master.

Slut Buttons

(I promise I’ll get back to the other story, but this one is begging to be writ, and I’m very very short on time this weekend. I know, you’ve heard it all before. But really…Why is *everything* (and I mean everything–every festival in the northeast) on September 28th this year? Seriously I could run 24 hours and never get to everything. Ah well, the pleasures of this life are many, right? Speaking of…..You may thank the lovely, sexy, sensual LadyP for this sordid tale….)
 

She lay facedown on the bed, one hand buried under the striped satin pillow, the other curled into a little fist under her chin. He stood looking at her, smiling. If it weren’t for her pretty ass hiked up as she lay with one knee drawn beneath her, he might take her for a young child, fallen asleep where she had been playing.

Truthfully, he had used her hard. He’d emptied himself in her during the night, had used toys and torture on her loveliness.  The long lines of the cane he favored crisscrossed the pale cream of her bottom, moved down the back of her legs. If he looked closely, he might see a few marks on the bottom of her feet. She had spectacular feet. Sensitive, long toes, a high arch, a shapely heel. Holding her foot in his hand and slapping the cane down the length had made her whimper and wail so beautifully it was like angels weeping.

From this angle, her bountiful breasts, and wet cunt were not visible. Thinking of that hot slit made him hard. He felt the stirring beneath the silk boxers he wore. His toes curled in the deep pile carpet as the familiar grinding in his balls heralded the rising of his shaft. Just looking at her fanny, and thinking of her pussy did this to him. Much as he adored watching her sleep, he suddenly craved disturbing her. Thumbs hooked in the band of his shorts, he made quick work of tugging them over his hips, shedding them as he stalked to the bed, a predator seeking its mate. Or perhaps its prey.

The sharp slap on her ass had her snapping awake, gasping. Her hand moved to rub at the reddening mark, but he seized her wrist flipping her to her back. In a flash he was upon her, straddling her, his balls resting on her belly button.  Her full breasts bounced as she fell upon her back, the perfect roundness of her areola a veritable beacon. They called to him. Touch me. Tug me. Hurt me. The back of his fingers grazed her nipples, stirring them to life.

“oh…nooooo…I…can’t. I’m not horny…Sir…I’m so tired.”

Her voice was a whimper designed for sympathy. He was not disposed to be sympathetic at this moment; his cock beat with a steady throb.

“Shhhhhhhh…”

His finger moved to his lips, hushing her with the gesture.

“Sure you can. And I know just how to wake up my little slut. You have these little “on” buttons. Your ‘slut buttons’ will get your motor humming in no time.”

Fingers found the rising buttons, and pinched, hard. She whimpered, arching. He twisted to the right, as far as the skin would stretch. Her noises grew more interesting, a cross between a whimper and a moan.  Twisting to the left, the moan became guttural. He knew her cunt was drooling now, that she was close.

Funny little slut. Her nipples were her Achilles heel. She may claim exhaustion. She could moan about not being ready. But the slut buttons made her gush, every time.

He tugged, then let the swollen nubs slip from his fingers.

Sliding down her body, he tugged her legs up, over his shoulders. Her cunt glistened with wetness, the head of his cock lubed as he slid it up and down her hot, slippery slit.

Squeezing his shaft in his hand, gritting the back of his teeth, he willed himself to not blow early. The head of his shaft pressed, pressed hard, entered her painfully slowly. She grunted, wiggled, but his hands held her legs firmly up over his shoulders as his cock penetrated her ass. Steadily he filled her bum with his rigid length, until his belly touched her fanny. Her eyes were wide, shocked.

She’d expected a good pussy pounding.

He so enjoyed surprising her. His fingers reached for her buttons again, pinching, rolling them, turning her pussy into a melted oozing tunnel. He watched as it trembled like a flower in the wind, grasping at the emptiness as the orgasm shuddered through her.

Slowly, a bit of agony for him, he withdrew from her butthole. He bit down hard, resisting the primal urge to beat off inside her bottom, using her hard and fast. He knew she liked it that way best. This, however, was divine torture for him as well. He watched her face as he tormented them both. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lip worried by her teeth. She was wincing, in pain and pleasure, he imagined. An anal probe with an orgasm.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he re-entered. He knew she liked it fast in her ass, liked the quickness of it, the pressure easing as he slid out as fast as he went in.

Not this time.

This was not going to be a quick how-do-you-do….this was going to take some time.

And he had nothing but time. He grinned as she winced. He felt the quivering of her rectum against his shaft. The squeezing  of her bum, like tight lips kissing each inch of him as he slid inside.

Exquisite torture indeed.

Laying his finger atop each of her buttons, he pressed them into her tit, watching them hide in the mounds of flesh as he withdrew his cock again, then slid deeply inside once more.

She came hard, panting like a bitch in heat as his fingers played with her tits, as his cock stretched her ass.

Leaning forward, pressing her legs back into her chest, he trapped his hands atop her tits, squeezing hard. His grin was wicked.

“A bit of sex poetry for my good, naughty girl, who keeps cumming even while I fuck her asshole. You say you don’t love it…but your cunt doesn’t lie.”

“But…”

“Yes, exactly. Butt.”

He laughed, his tone deepening. He was close. Very close. In a moment he would spill himself into her again.

“This,” he said, teeth clenching as his balls boiled, “will be my Masterpiece of poetic works.”

She gasped as his fingers worked her slut buttons once more, moaning as her pussy clamped and clutched and ran with her juice. And giggled helplessly as He delivered his ‘poetic work’ between the spurts of his cock.

“The time, sweet slut has now begun.

Your buttons made me do it.

I’m cumming slut, such dirty fun,

its time to just get to it.

My poem now is almost done,

and you, my slut are full of cum,

buried up inside your bum.”

Fuck Party in Nilla’s Bed

  • dig through the toybox for the perfect toys. Vibe? Check. Yeah, the one with batteries. And the plug in one. And the g-spot hitting dildo that used to be a vibe but died–yet lives on as the *perfect* dildo. And clothes pins. Hmmm…the wooden ones or the plastic ones with the non-skid surface. Yes. Definitely the plastic. We need a bit more ‘bite’ tonight.
  • Lube. Yes. Those vibrations are so much more fun with lube…who knew?
  • Condom. Check. That fucking battery vibe has those darned ridges that my pussy does NOT like…adding to the layers of condoms on it is a must.

Okay. It’s dark in here…where the hell is the hole to put the plug in? Fumble fumble fumble…I give up. Where’s the flashlight. Grumble grumble. I hate losing the ‘mood’ here- dark, cold room, thin sheet, the feeling of…oh there’s the fucking flashlight. Okay. There’s the friggin hole. mmmmmmm….that’s nice.

Opens condom, slides over old condom. Nice and squishy, won’t feel those weird ridges. Batteries are relatively fresh, too. Gawd I love Tuesday! My pussy is so ready for this!

Oh..lube. I almost forgot! Open new box of lube. Try to squirt. Nada. Huh?

pauses to read the lube box. brand new lube. not that i’ve never used lube before, but yanno, sometimes they say something interesting.  Oh…tear off inner foil seal before using. heh. blonde moment.
 

Unscrews lid of lube. Aaahh…*giggles* what a silly slut! *peels off inner seal with minimal grunting and effort* Screws lid back on. Aaah, lube. Takes a minute to giggle at directions on package

caution, lube is *very* slippery

Duh.

Isn’t that the *point* of lube? Shakes head at the obviousness of some labeling. Tries to pour a drop of lube on the condom coated dildo.

Watches as lube drop glides right off, like an elephant on ice. Wonders where on the bed the drop went…it disappeared. Sighs. Puts lube on PUSSY.

Now we have a par-tay!!

Vibe in pussy. On low. mmmmmm

Vibe on clit on medium.  Oh. Squirmy.

Wait…why is it so light in here? I can’t masturbate when the lights are on…oh. stupid flashlight! Click…aaahhh. Lovely. Mmmm…oh ouch! Hair stuck in armpit. Hate that. But it does go along with that whole hairpulling thing.

Remembering the story I wrote before bed. He’s gonna take her ass whether she “wants it or not”….why does that always get me off?

So close.

So close…ohhhh..

Damn. I hate when it falls away like that. My arm is getting tired. What does Master do? Oh, those twisting motions….oh my! Yes…that’s good…

hanging…

hanging on the verrrah edge…

DAMNATION!

It falls away a*gain*….

grumble.

OH!

I forgot the clothes pins. Pinches a nipple, scrabbles in the dark for a pin. What? Where the fuck?

Scrabble.

Dig.

Ruffles covers.

Turns on flashlight which pierces my eyes.

OH FUCK! I can’t see anything…winces…

oh…One clothes pin…now where the hell…

half-sits up. Lubed pussy squirts out vibe.

*sighs heavily*

Finds other clothes pin under pillow, about to fall off the bed. How did…oh who cares? Pinches nipple, slaps on first peg. OUCH! That hurts. Like..really hurts.

No.

I’m NOT going to reposition it. Master wouldn’t. So I won’t. But it really hurts.

Ohh..where’d that vibe go?

*fumbles in the sheets, shoves it unceremoniously up into the snatch*

Okay…mmmmoooooohhh…yeah baby, now that’s what I’m talkin’ about…

pinches right nipple, squeezes hard, positions pin more carefully…bite good, then release….ooohhh..

Left nipple throbs, temporarily drowning out the throb in my clit as I put the clit vibe up higher, and higher, until it’s buzzing hard. Squirming..ouching…ssquirming…

Every squirm rubs the pegs on my nipples with the sheets, tugging. Kind of like Master, only gentler. He *is* a sadistic Bastard, after all…but it’s enough to remind me of Him…to hear His voice in my ear, whispering that He’s going to take my ass, because it’s His…

Pussy gets that funny “itch” deep inside.

I can almost HEAR His voice, that smooth, dark, silky tone He gets when tormenting with His words.

The ‘itch’ gets more intense, and I feel the clenching deep inside…and suddenly I’m flying…

pussy clenches hard on the vibe inside, now so much lube that it threatens to shoot across the room, let alone out the cunt. The vibe on  my clit is too much…too much.

But HE wouldn’t relent, no He wouldn’t… so i suffer the paroxysms of my clenching cunt with the vibe humming. In truth, I’m almost paralyzed by the pleasures and pains dancing through my body.

I’m aware that I’m whimpering out loud, that my body is locked in a passionate rigor, as I come down, down from the experience. Finally my hand moves enough to turn off the twin vibes locked in and on my pussy by my clenched legs. After a few minutes, as I gasp and try to assemble my wits, they open, those thighs, and I slide the soaked dildo’s away, and drop them into my toybox.

My nipples ache.

Oh gosh after an Orgasm like that, they throb so, as if they will explode from the fury of the O, and the pinching containment of the pegs on them.

I don’t wanna take them off, I whine in my head. It’s going to hurt SOoooooo much…

Eyes screwed shut tight, I reach under the blankets for them. Oh…OH! just *touching* them hurts…

I draw a half-breath…another…and pinch. The left one, the hurtiest one, comes off easily. But my right hand has lube on it still, from the dildo’s or from my pussy, who knows.

They slip off the clothes pin–the plastic  is now very slippery–and I yelp as it pinches again, my nipple screaming. Shaking fingers finally grasp the fucking peg, releasing my nipple from the bite. The “teeth” don’t want to come off. They are stuck to the nipple, and I have to give a little ‘shake’ to make it pry off.

oh fuuuuuuuck….

That really hurt.

Pussy oozes, my belly trembles, and another tiny orgasm swells through me. A lucky double? But it leaves me hornier than when I started.

Too bad–it’s almost midnight and Master is unreachable. I drop the pegs into my toybin, pull the covers over me, and touch my dripping pussy, smiling.

I sleep.

Slut on Call (3)

Thirst.

Her world began and ended with the need for liquid. Her pussy continued to ooze and spurt, draining her. Her belly clenched, but she was beyond knowing whether it was hunger or deep, tummy-trembling orgasms.

He wouldn’t stop, making her lurch through one orgasm after another. Some were wicked and intense. Some were soft waves. She had never cum so much in her life. She was drained. Dry. Her mouth ached for a sip. She remembered the mouthful he’d spat on her face, her tongue swirled around her lips but all had slid away, lost, absorbed by the sheet below.

“Thirsty, slut?”

“Yes…so thirsty…please…”

He rose, lifted the half-empty glass from the table, and drank. One. Two. Three. She unconsciously counted the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. An upwelling of grief made one lone tear leak from her eye, trickle down to her ear.

He was cruel! Cruel beyond measure. She closed her eyes, turning her head away from him. She wouldn’t look. Wouldn’t give him her hunger or whatever the fuck he wanted from her. Let him deal.

A sharp pinch on her nipple made her open her eyes, anger flashing to the fore. She opened her mouth to yell at him, and he lowered his lips to hers, allowing a trickle of water to fill her with the kiss. It was the barest of kisses, his lips grazing hers, filling her slowly.

She swallowed, and again.

“There, that’s a good girl.” His lips slipped along hers as he spoke softly, tenderly. His fingers caressed the hair at her temples, damp from her sweat.

“More?”

She nodded, but he slapped her tit instead.

“All done for now, girl.”

“Your…so mean.”

“Thanks. You wear it well.”

“Wear….?”

“My meanness. You take it well, and that’s not a compliment I give many, nor lightly.”

She wasn’t sure how to take that. This was all new to her.

“How are your hands? Your feet? Numb? Tingly?”

She shook her head. She felt fine. Except for her exhausted pussy.

“My…” She couldn’t make herself say the dirty word, though HE had used it several times. Along with that other term.

“Your? I’m not playing guessing games here, slut. Tell me what is hurting you?”

“My vagina.”

“Your vagina is empty, thus, not painful.”

She blushed. Her eyes dropped and she looked at her nipples. They were enormous, after being tormented with his fingers, his mouth, those damned clothespins.

A slap on her pussy made her gasp.

“I don’t ask twice. Answer me. Now.”

Her voice was a mere whisper in the quiet room.

“My pussy.”

“Your pussy what?”

“It…it’s been all quivery. Too much vibrations. It’s not used to that.”

Her blush slid down her neck, even to the top of her chest. He paused, admiring the rosy hue.

“Pretty girl. I like you all embarrassed.”

His fingers probed her slit, danced over her clit, slid into her pussyhole.

“Feels pretty good to me. So good that I’m going to stick my cock in there in a minute. I think you won’t notice the…vibrations…then.”

She swallowed hard. He had mentioned fucking. He had. Still, he’d spent a long time, an interminable time, tormenting her pussy, her tits, and embarrassing her. He slid from the bed, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Very well put together, this man;  the shirt fit like a glove. Underneath it he wore a tee-shirt, the kind they called a beater, which showed his muscled arms to advantage. Catching her eyes with his, mesmerizing her, he slowly stripped off his pants, his briefs, and stood, only in the tee-shirt, his distended cock rising from a thatch of thick dark hair like a sword.

A fucking big sword. Her last lover’s penis was long, but thin. This man, her neighbor, had a very robust shaft. Thick, long, intimidating.

“That….is not going to fit.”

She wasn’t certain for a moment that she’d actually said that. His eyes widened for a second, then crinkled in a laugh.

“Trust me little girl, I’ll make it fit. Both you cunt and your ass will accommodate me.”

Her ass.

She’d forgotten that he’d promised to fuck her ass. She hadn’t agreed to that.

Had she?

Will it be You?

This blog is just a hair over 4 years old.

In that time I’ve gotten a bunch of awards, many of which I didn’t follow the rules and nominate others on so I felt I shouldn’t post them. My proudest is being inside the top ten last year on Rori’s list, number 6.

I’ve written 1, 572 posts (including this one!), many of which, an overwhelming majority are stories. Some stand alone, some are serials that I work at finishing, some actually ARE finished. 🙂

I’ve dabbled with sensual haiku, a bit of poetry, and went from total D/s virgin to being owned by a Master who loves me and provides me with exactly the thing my kink needs to grow and flourish.

I’ve had over 2o,ooo comments (yours, and my responses, combined) and readers from almost every continent in the world barring Greenland. I had someone tell me once in a p.m. that he read me in the south pole, but my stats didn’t verify that, so Antarctica is also not on that list. (I keep hoping though!) Lots of Europe reads here, and quite a few countries in Africa, which amazes me.

I LOVE my stats pages, can you tell?

I love perusing the Search Terms that got people here in the first place. All the search terms (blog rough sex fuck is my current favorite) amuse me. Some make me scratch my head, but more people find me through “rough sex blog” than from any other search.

And sometime…in the next 10 days or so, my little started-in-a-fit-of-pique blog will surpass 500,000 views.

I shouldn’t care about the numbers. I’m a very little fish in a very big pond of sex bloggers. But something about all those big round O’s just fascinates me.

Well, you know nilla and O’s, right?

*laughs*

So maybe… October 3rd? You know I’ll  be hanging on the edge, 499,990, 499,991…..

Five hundred thousand views. Half a fucking million looksee’s here at Vanillamom. Why…that’s simply *amazing*.

More than amazing…it’s…um…

Fucking Awesome!

I wonder who will pop me over to that wonderful huge number?

Will it be you?

 

Slut on Call (2)

His voice was like hot silk tickling at her ear. 

“You made my sheets all wet. You might be the nice lady next door, but underneath? You’re definitely a slutty little thing.”

She shook her head no, even as her body quaked and quivered with the aftershocks of the most powerful orgasm she’d ever had. What was it about his dirty words, and the persistence of his hands, his mouth, his toys? He turned her into jelly. He turned her into a slut. 

He sat up, bracing the bulb of the thing that had been her ultimate downfall, hard between her thighs. She had no idea what it was, but it was powerful.  He flicked the switch and a low hum came from it, then wedged it against the mattress so that it pressed against her sensitive bits.

“oh no! NO, no no no…I can’t…too much…oh pleaseee…” Her voice gasped, softened, sharpened, wailed. His smile said he didn’t care. He looked down at her, at the scrunched up face she made, as he slipped off the bed.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, pet.” 

“Nooooooooo”

His laugh rang down the hallway as he disappeared. Her clit lurched as the bulb did its nefarious work. The fucking thing churned against her pussy as she wriggled to move it. Before she could dislocate it from her clit, she exploded again, laying there panting and whining like a dog.

“You look like you’ve been fucked six ways to Sunday–and we’ve only just begun.” 

She looked at him blearily.

“Fuck. You.”

“You have that backwards slut. I will fuck you. Eventually.”

She saw that he had something in his hand, and a tall glass of water. Oh, water. She thirsted for it.  As if he read her mind, he spoke.

“Want some?”

“please please…yes!”

He took a sip. And another. And then filled his cheeks and moved over her. He could not mean to do what she thought, would he? Yet he pinched her cheeks in a silent bid to open her lips. Oh. Gross. No.

He sprayed the water over her face. She tossed her head, the words ew, gross, and yuk escaping.

“You think my gift to you was gross? Perhaps the slut doesn’t need water after all?”

“But I’m so thirsty..” She looked up into his stern eyes.

“I’ll cut you some slack since you are obviously virginal. To D/s. I can tell that cunt has fucked a time or two before.  But my sort of play has rules. And they’re all in my favor. I’m on top. I’m the boss of you. I’m your mean Daddy. I tell you what to do and you do it and win my favor. Orgasms–or the stopping of them if I decide to continue torturing your pretty pussy with them.  Pleasure. Pain. You’ll get all of that from me.”

He paused, flicking a pert nipple.

“If you’re a good girl, which means obedience.”

“That isn’t very fair.”

She sounded petulant, even to her own ears. The vibe hummed between her thighs, her paroxysms having knocked it away from her clit. But it still pressed insistently against her wet pussy. 

“It isn’t at all about fair. It’s about what I want. I get to control you. I get to play with you. In return, you get things that will turn you on. Sometimes those things won’t be very nice–beatings, canings, even things like this.”

He paused and slipped a wooden clothes pin onto her nipple. She arched, moaning at the sudden firm pinch.

“Now, that doesn’t hurt all that much, girl.”

“Fine, then YOU wear it,” she grumbled. 

He laughed as he affixed the other peg.  She shrieked then, calling him a bastard, which made him laugh harder. 

“You’ll find such things amuse me, slut. I like to watch your pain, your struggle for coping with it. I like the sound of your anger spitting out there as I hurt you. I enjoy hurting pretty little things like you. It makes my cock throb, it turns me on, it feeds the hunger I have inside of me. If we continue to play this game, my sweet, it may just be that we’ll find an answering hunger in you.”

“Oh trust me, I have an answering hunger to hurt you. I want to punch you right in the nose!”

He fell over, laughing, his fingers stroking the underside of her breast, a soft counterpoint to the firm pinching on her nipple. And then he flicked it, hard and fast and unexpected, making her jolt and yelp.

“Fuck OW, fuck YOU! Ow ow…”

She felt his laughter against her belly as he lay there, using her as his pillow. 

“Oops…look what slipped away.”

Sitting up, he moved the vibe against her mons, pressing it firmly. 

“Your cunt is amazingly wet for one who says ‘oh, ouch’ so much. Perhaps you’re having a little pussy tsunami? Maybe we’ve stirred a little tidal surge in your belly? Can you imagine how wet your weeping pussy will be when I roll you over to fuck your little puckered asshole?”

He pressed his cum-wet finger against her anus, sinking it two knuckles deep in her bottom, fucking in and out. She whimpered, moaned, shook her head, but another orgasm roared through her body.

“Such a nasty little girl, cumming when I put my finger up your bum. Your sweet little fanny is just begging for my cock. Isn’t it?” He slammed three fingers back into her pussy, and finger fucked her hard, pulling another orgasm from her exhausted body. 

She felt everything…yet was suddenly free-floating in the sky somewhere. Her body was alive and arching and moaning and yet she was here, hanging out amongst the stars. There was only so much a body could take, she imagined. She had no idea what the fuck was happening…other than the prodigious use of her holes. 

And gods above she was so fucking thirsty.

 

Was…then Didn’t….

Was going to write a story. The chapters for several are burning in my head. But …

The day was full of good things.

And the last few days I’ve been absolutely exhausted.

A deep-in-my-bones tired. Almost like I was coming down sick. Allergies can do that to me, even when I’m not having a lot of sneezing/wheezing stuff. But for whatever reason, it was a very busy week with zero down time…and it took a toll that whacked me last night.

And the Master-Man is gone for the weekend. He isn’t totally out of contact; He’s sent pix of where He is, and answered my texts (I’ve been SO good about not bugging Him. I’m really proud of that!). But I went to bed early, and woke to two texts from Him, which was nice. And there is the slightest chance that He’ll get home early enough that we’ll get a bit of face time tomorrow evening while I’m frittering away time between Mom-taxi gigs.

This post is so boring!

I hate that. 🙂  But other than squeezing out writing time this past week, my week was uneventfully busy. My little business is doing very well, and I’m happy. I said that last time, didn’t I? I really am happy.

Thanks for all the wonderful comments. I’m hoping to dive back into answering them all early next week. And writing time. Don’t think there will be any time Sunday. Sorry…I love you guys, but football has priority even over my blog. 🙂   So you all with have to jack off without my help Sunday and maybe even Monday, until I get some time to write again. Somehow I think you’ll all handle it just fine.

For now, I’m off to my bed, trying to get caught up on this “tired” thing. I even took a vitamin today. (shocking!)  This getting old stuff sure isn’t for sissies, I’ll tell you that. And yeah, 50’s is not “old” like it was in my grandparents day, but my body sure know’s that I’m not in my 30’s anymore!

Have fun, you all. And if it’s really really fun? Do drop me a line and tell me all the juicy details. We writers need a constant supply of input…really. (did you think i was just a voyeur?hahaha..okay, well, maybe…!)

Happy Sunday, peeps.

Go PATS!

 

Slut on Call

Sifting through the mail in her front hall, she kicked off her shoes. They looked great but after a twelve-hour day her feet were throbbing. She tugged the ponytail holder out of her hair, shifted out of her jacket. She was just about to head to the kitchen to nuke some pizza when she found the envelope.

Definitely not hers.

If it had been junk, she would have simply tossed it, but this looked official. Important. With a longing glance towards the kitchen, her tummy grumbling impatiently, she slid back into her shoes, ignoring the protest of her toes,  and headed next door.

The neighborhood was quiet and dark. Friday night was date night for some, and a chance to sit and veg in front of the tv for others. The sounds of crickets seemed loud in the darkness, those last desperate calls for mates creating a constant, chirring hum. She climbed the steps, noting the tidy little front porch. A pot of mums sat on the bottom step, and a brass number plate sat over the doorbell. Both were new. Ringing the bell, she wondered who, exactly, would answer the door. She had never seen, nor met, the people who had moved in here this spring. She’d been off to California for work when the house had closed and the new owner took possession. It seemed they worked opposite schedules or something.

The door jerked open, starling her. She had a moment to take in a tall, dark-haired man with fierce eyes, before she was tugged inside.

“You’re late.”

A strip of duct tape slapped over her mouth, a blindfold tugged over her eyes. The letter fell soundlessly from her fingers to the floor, sliding into the kitchen and half under the fridge. Neither of them noticed. He almost ripped her shirt as he tore it away from her body, then used it to tie her wrists behind her back. Despite struggling, he overpowered her quickly. A hand in her hair pushed her, stumbling blindly, through the house, until she fell face-first onto a bed. Panic set fire to her, as she rolled, kicking out. She did not want to be raped, she only wanted to deliver a fucking letter. Strong arms pulled her up the bed, grabbed and secured each flailing foot. She growled and screamed behind the gag, as he rolled her to the side, sliding the shirt off of her. She punched out when her hands were free. The weight of a man’s body straddled her, high up on her torso, just below her breasts, as she tried to claw and scratch at him. He laughed.

“Feisty. I do like the feisty ones. Gotta say, slut, you’re the best so far.”

Quickly, effortlessly, he subdued each hand, until she was spread-eagled, tied to his bed. She bucked, trying to get him off of her so that she could breathe. Panic sent black spots to circle around her blindfolded eyes as she fought for breath.

“Yes, yes, impatient wench, I’ll play with your pretty titties…”

Matching words to actions, his hands tugged her bra upwards, freeing her breasts. He cupped and fondled them, sometimes gentle, sometimes firmly, until he pinched her nipples and lifted each fat breast by them. She squirmed, squealing.

“You have lovely nipples. Red as raspberries and fat. Just the way I like.”

He slid down her body, laying atop her, his mouth, sucking one breast deeply into his mouth.   Jesus…his mouth did powerful things to her. Her belly tightened, and she arched involuntarily, seeking more. His teeth bit into her tender skin, making her cry out. The gag tugged on her lips as she tossed her head. She wanted…

NO! No!

She breathed, trying to ignore his mouth on her tit. She’d always been sensitive there. Boyfriends were always fascinated that she could have an orgasm from having her nipples sucked. One had called them her “Orgasm knobs”, laughing as he’d turned them while fucking her, driving her over the edge so many times that she’d eventually passed out on him.

She wasn’t going to cum.

She wasn’t.

No.

Her back arched as the first spasm rippled through her pussy.

“You horny little thing. NO! No cumming, don’t you fucking *dare* disobey me.”

His words were like cold water. With a hard slap, he pushed off of her, then tugged her skirt up around her waist. Pulling her panties to the side, his finger probed her cunt.

“You little whore. Soaked. Did you cum?”

She shook her head no. She was close. Very very close. His finger rubbed her clit, engorged and standing at attention. The little traitor.

“Good. You want to cum, don’t you?”

She shook her head, no.

No. She didn’t.

The slap on her pussy took her by surprise. She arched, shrieked.

“Liar.”

He slapped again, twice more. Her clit throbbed, her pussy ached for release. This was fucking weird. He slapped her and she wanted to cum even more than before. She needed to get out of here. Now. She lay still, her mind racing. She pictured the freedom of her kitchen, the pizza in the freezer. A single tear traced from her eye to her ear. The edge of the gag pulled away, then slowly eased off her mouth.

“Please…”

“You don’t have permission to talk. Or cum. Got it, slut?”

“I’m NOT a slut!”

“That’s what all the sluts say.”

“I’m your neighbor…really. I was bringing you mail that came to my house by accident…”

“I never saw any mail.”

“I had it. In my hand….I’m not sure where it went when you grabbed me like …like..”

Her voice fell to a whisper. She heard footsteps cross the floor, leaving the room. It wasn’t long before he was back. The bed creaked as he lay across it beside her.

“How about that. And yet. So wet, little neighbor girl. So close to cumming. Are you sure you’re not part of Sam’s Sluts-to-Go? No? Okay, then, how about a bargain.”

There was a click, a whirrr and something, something wonderful, pressed against her pussy.

“If you don’t cum, if you can hold off for 5 minutes, then I’ll untie you and send you on your way, with my apologies. But if you do cum, if you act just like the horny slut I thought you were, and cream all over my bed? Then you stay here with me. All weekend. Playmates.”

He paused, letting that sink in, all the while playing the delightful buzzing thing down her pussylips, and back up over her clit.

“I….won’t…cum.”

“Of course not, a fine lady like yourself would never cum in a strangers bed after having her tits sucked and her pussy massaged.”

“o…okay…I…agree.”

“Five minutes, starting now.”

Time seemed to thread past her in ribbons and waves. Her total attention was on her cunt. She wanted to get out of here. Cumming was not an option. She wanted home, and her pizza for dinner. She wanted her feet up and her book. She…the thing pressed hard against her clit and she arched, stimulated beyond belief.

“NO! oOOOOOOO!”

She cried out, feeling the clenching of her pussy, her body arching and straining against the bonds that held her open. His chuckle bordered on cruel.

“Greedy girl, your pussy is very wet. I think she wants something…”

His finger caressed her slit while the churning bulb stirred her clit unceasingly.

“ooooooooOOOOO” she moaned as his finger, two, three slid inside her wet heat, curling up and stroking the most sensitive places inside her cunt.

“For a girl who doesn’t want to cum, you’re doing a very poor job resisting.”

His voice was a husky sound against her ear, the warm brush of his breath a near-caress. His lips found her nipple and sucked hard. She came in a torrent, her body arched into a perfect bow, releasing a flood. The gates were open, lust pouring through her body, flowing out in a torrent of sex juice. She had cum, harder than ever before in her life.

And now she was his.