Baby~ It’s FUCKING COLD Outside!


Not just chilly. Not merely cold. Not even brrrr it’s a cold night. It’s totally fucking cold. I can handle a few days of this, but penguin-walking is getting old (fucking ice!) and by damn,  my tits are about to freeze off.


So, okay,  not really.

It just feels that way, dammit! And my nipples have been hard for days, practically. (And no let up in sight…tomorrow will “warm up” to 16. Woofuckinghoo.

Need proof of my poor sore nips? (I know you do…which is why this is a better-late-than-never HNT!)



HNT~A Little Bit Skinnier

I made it! It’s still HNT day (but hey, pervie peeps…it IS just 4 days before Christmas and I WAS in the store an hour ago {dammit!} so I think I get some creds for getting a post up at all! (I love the holidays, but this year the bustle seems to be even more bustle-y than usual. Or is it me?)

Anyway…It’s HNT day, and I’m down well over 10 pounds and proud to show it. I wish I could tell you the “miracle” diet, but really it’s just too many working hours vs the time I have to eat anything. The good part is that it is very very VERY gradual, so I’m toning up as well as slimming down. Nilla is NEVER going to be a skinny gal, not ever. And I don’t want to be. But a little bit less of me isn’t a bad thing either.

(are you still reading? are you not about to stamp your foot and say ‘for crissakes, nilla, show me your fucking tits already?)


see? I know you. Pervs.

(my people!)

Okay I’ll stop teasing…at least for tonight.


The girls aren’t any skinnier, but look! I have a wee bit of nip…in my waist as well as…well, you know.

Happy HNT, pervie peeps!

Catching Up

Oh my!

It’s been a hectic few weeks, hasn’t it? This holiday rush thing is entirely too much to deal with on top of all the other LIFE things that are going on. I think I’ve replied to all my comments…I hate letting them go, but sometimes I only have 25 minutes to sit and bang out a story (see what I did there? LOL) and often I don’t even know what I’m going to write, I just know I need to make writing a few times a week a commitment, and so that’s where I’m at. My fingers start moving, and things pop into (out of?) my rather perverse imagination, and BOOM! I’m pretty blessed that I’m able to write that way. No outlines, no agonizing about what words to go where. I’m an off the cuff kind of person in real life, and that’s exactly how I write!

My babygirl has been sick and since I have taught my children to share, she decided to do exactly that. Oh, I tried to avoid it. I was supposed to luncheon and visit with Jz last weekend, and had to beg off because who wants to infect their friends at this time of the year (or anytime, really!)? And I wasn’t feeling really sick…until I was. Last week was kind of a blur, but thanks to the marvelous intervention of antibiotics, I’m well and truly recovered. Phew! I had no voice for several days, so I couldn’t even talk with M…which I hate. We’re pretty lax about texting one another, though we do it. But gosh I love the timbre of his voice. And the little witticisms that come from talking to him way more than when he texts. And some of the naughtiness that he’ll say but not think to write. So we’re both pretty happy my voice came back.


I’ve kinda lost it again.

OMG the Patriots vs Pittsburg tonight. It was a down-to-the-wire game, and the last 2 minutes were INTENSE. I was (for real) screaming my head off. Jumping up and down. Screaming some more.

Until, you know, I couldn’t even eke out a squeak. It’ll be better by tomorrow (i hope!) but it was worth it! (Go Pats!)

Have you noted the very few football posts this year? And me, a diehard Patriots fan? Tsk! Well, now you have tonights HOO RAH! at any rate.


Have a great last week before Christmas, dear pervie peeps!




Sex Police

Whoa! Oh my, the things i dream about when i’m taking nyquill…! ~n~

She sat watching the flashing blues pull tight behind her. Her fingers twisted nervously on the steering wheel of her car. What had she done, she wondered? She’d been driving the speed limit, her car had just passed inspection last week, and there was no one else on the road except for her.

“Lower your car window.”

She complied instantly.

“Step out of the car.”  Looking up at him through the window, all she saw was unsmiling lips and mirrored glasses.

“O-oh, okay,” she said, her voice quivering just a bit. She had nothing to hide, but who didn’t get the nervous butterflies when being pulled over by the law?

Her fingers shook as she released her seat belt and opened the door.

“Hands against the the door. Grip over the open window frame.”

When she hesitated, he pushed her forward, pressing her hands over the curved edge. He tugged her hips back until she was partly bent over. His booted foot kicked her legs wider.

“You haven’t had sex in over a year.”

Oh. Oh! So that’s what this was about. How had she forgotten the law that a female had to copulate at least once a calendar year? Fucking government! First they controlled her reproduction, now they actually controlled her sex!

“I…no. My boyfriend left …”

“Save it. You know there are repercussions. There are agencies out there to aid in that. When we’re done here I’ll give you a pamphlet with all the contact information.”

“Oh…please officer. Please. I’ll take the pamphlet now and get on it right away…”

“It’s too late, you’re more than a little overdue. I’m here to rectify that for you.”

He laughed a dry laugh and she knew instantly what was going to happen to her.

“Please, please no, please Officer, please.”

“I like it when my charges beg.”

She whimpered.

His hands lifted her skirt, baring her ass to the late evening air. A car slowed as it passed.

“UNFUCKED BITCH!” someone yelled, throwing a half-full soda bottle in their direction. The cap was off and her leg was splashed by the dark, sticky drink.

“Move along,” the cop said firmly, not even turning from his duty. There was the sound of wheels scraping through sand, and it gunned off. Then there was silence, and the feeling of his hands running over her ass.

Into the silence, she heard him pull It from the sheath. The sound of metal on metal was grating.

“This will only hurt a little. It’s self-lubricating. Be a good girl and push that ass back now.”

She shook her head, crying openly.

“P-p-please…officer please…”

Warm metal pressed against her cunt lips. Without a moments hesitation, he pushed it fully inside of her. She moaned, a deep sound of misery. A pair of thick rubber-like straps attached to each inner thigh to keep the huge metal beast inside of her.

She tried to move, found herself locked in stasis. She cried out as she felt it quiver inside of her. His fingers moved over her mound. There was a slight pinch, then a vibration against her clit.

“The mini-vibe will help get you over the hump,” he said with a chuckle. There was no humor in the laughter, only the sound of pleasure. “You can struggle all you want, but the billy-cock will hold you immobile.”

Her fingers locked on the window frame, her body bent and ready to receive her punishment could attest to the immobility. In her mind she was struggling, but her only movement was the involuntary quivers from her cunt, and the tears she cried silently.

“Now, because you tried to weasel your way out of your punishment,” he said, his voice sly, “I’m going to add to it.”

His hands slipped up and opened her blouse, tugging her tits free of the no-nonsense bra she was wearing. Pinching and tugging at her nipples forced them to tighten. Once they were hard, he fished in his pocket, and produced a pair of clamps. He dangled them in front of her.

“These will remind you to be a good girl in the future and have your annual fucking taken care of properly.”

He fixed a clamp on her nipple. She cried out at the shocking pain. The other nipple was clamped, and then a sudden surge rippled through them.

“They’ll keep shocking your tits while you’re being opened,” he said, his hands mauling her breasts, which were suddenly alive with sensations. It hurt, but there was also a new feeling quivering through her.

“There you go,” he murmured. “There’s your first. There will be many more, you know. Eighteen months. Tsk. You have been a naughty girl.”

She wanted to explain, but the words stayed locked inside of her.  What good would it do. When did her sex become public property? Her body arched as a second orgasm rippled through her.

“Good. Now you’re ready for the rest of your punishment.”

With the vibe on her clit, and the heavy metal phallus inside of her she was lost in a steady roll of orgasms. But she screamed when his cock pierced her ass.

There was a slam of a car door.

“I love it when they scream,” said the cop to someone walking up behind them.

“If she screamed when your dick went in, wait till she feels mine,” the other voice laughed. His partner. Of course. Cops always traveled as a duo. She did speak then, begging and crying even as another orgasm caused her to squirt down her leg.

“A wet one,” the other cop observed dispassionately. His hand lifted her face.

“This is what happens when you break the law miss. The law has to break you.”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she came again.


Cum a Cane?

She shook her head as the cane fell across the bottom of her foot. The tug against her anus was immediate, reminding her of the ball-ended hook inserted there, and tightly tied to her ponytail. He lashed at her foot again. Her back arched, and she shrieked around the bright red ball between her lips. A pop of air allowed the drool that had pooled in her mouth to squirt out, and dribble down her chin.

He struck her again and her toes curled as the pain began to throb dully. All of her attention was focused on the streaks of white-hot pain across her aching foot. Again the cane lashed out, her calf took the blow and she jolted with the unexpected slash. Again her head was tugged, her ass burning at the repeated thrusts from her contortions. If she could stay still it would not hurt in so many places, she knew it. He’d said as much to her at the beginning.

He had known she would break. *whap! whap! whap!* The cane hit hard against her ass, then her calf, and her other foot. Her head tossed around, her back arching and twisting. The pain came in waves, the bright slashes of pain from his hand, the torque on her hair, the repeated movement of  the hook buried in her shitter.

His hand stroked over her hip and she crooned deep in her throat, but the quick slap of the reedy wood where his hand had gently touched was perverse. Kind and mean in equal measure, she knew he would be smiling now, watching the lines grow; she felt them rising, felt the hot red lines bursting from her smooth skin.

She wanted to touch them.

Later she’d admire the bruises, and remembering, would masturbate to the memory of the pain. But for now she would endure.

Three hard taps, sole, heel, toes, brought her back to pain. Behind the gag, she grit her teeth, then screamed as the blows moved on, up her thigh to her hip, across her ass. He body burned, and imagined flames ripped along the path of the hated toy.

Again she arched, whinnied, tossed her head, groaned at the pain. His voice came from somewhere, nowhere, in front or behind her.

“Cum. Cum for me, painslut. Cum for me you little whore.”

The dance of the cane was audible, around his words. The rushing whoosh of it though the air, the sharp crack of it against her skin. Her feet took more of the blows, each strike an explosion of needle-like pain. Her asshole clenched on the intruding hook, the ball teasing her guts with every writhing movement.

With a sighing quiver, her body clenched down, gathering pain and exploded.

She woke, cradled against him, his cock buried in her cunt. It was the best way to come back from beyond. His hairy legs rubbed all the sore swollen welts, and she trembled with the need to cum.

He whispered in her ear.

“Greedy little cunt. Cum.”

She complied, instantly.


It’s that most wonderful time of the year when we strip naked and dance around the bonfire…oh. wait. That’s my *fantasy* not what really happens at this time of the year. Sillly me!

Actually, it’s hats (or shirts or pants or whatever your preference) off to Jz for once again donning her chef’s apron and heading up the great online cookie swap. No, we don’t actually swap cookies, but because we’re good girls and boys, we do submit (see what I did there? I can’t seem to stop myself!) a recipe to share.

It’s HNT and I was going to be all cutsey and hold up a few cookies but there’s no way a cookie will cover my girls, NOR can I hold up two cookies and take a titty selfie, so you’ll have to wait until next week for that.

So, before I forget, here’s the blog links to all the other pervie peeps who are baking this time around. Go visit their blogs for even more awesome treat recipes. At the end of the list,  I’ll post my recipe. Which I have yet to make so forgive me for posting ahead of cooking. Actually–my stuff is half done…all my dough is in the fridge, but I won’t have time just now to actually ball them (hehehe…) and bake them.

(I tell you, when the sexy stuff is in short supply, there is much sexy punning around here…)




Bogey and Bacall










Mrs. Fever

Ms Dixie Wrecked






selkie (recipe here)

So here’s my offering and I’m going to cheat since it’s my blog and I can. And besides, if Jz spanks me I’m gonna like it, no lie. (The cheat is that I may have posted this recipe in a previous year but I’m too lazy to go and look!)

This is a Raspberry and Almond Thumbprint cookie, with a Glaze “frosting”. Trust me, it’s incredibly delicious if you love almond flavoring like I do. It’s a lovely little shortbread cookie, and the crisp tartness of the raspberry (seedless) jam is a lovely counterpoint to the not as sweet cookie, and the yummmmmmy sweet drizzled glaze. Quick and easy to make, and gone in a heartbeat if you don’t guard them! (From and made each year in the nilla house!)

The recipe is here:






He stood looking down at her, an older, silver-haired man. He looked distinguised. His hair was combed tidily, his beard and mustache neatly groomed. His eyes, the color of deep honey, crinkled at the corners from many smiles. He looked classy.  Cultured. And yet she knew better. That face was a mask, for under the mask lay a monster. A tremor shook her violently, her body arching and her mind torn from thoughts of her tormentor.

“You wanted to cum. Remember, slut?”

His voice cut through the lingering shudders. Her wrists and ankles were already pinkened from straining at the bonds that held her spread upon the bed. She refused to answer, or couldn’t, it was hard to say at this point. Dispassionately he looked at her heaving chest, her tits still quivering from the force of the orgasm. Her nipples, once they’d been pinched hard by his fingers, were clamped now, weighted and tugged to the side of her body with her convulsive movements. Likewise, her cuntlips were spread, grabbed by clamps, and taped to her inner thighs to allow the fat-headed super vibe to press up against her innermost flesh, torturing her clit and pussy.

She shook her head at long last.

“Ah, but you did. When I came home last night, after sending you messages to edge yourself, what did I find but my slut, sprawled in the bed asleep, her cunt soaked. Why my dear, the very bed you’re laying upon betrayed you, soaked from your sated pussy.  I was very disappointed that your desires came before mine. Yet, for some reason, I feel the deep need for compassion here, and let you have what you wanted so desperately.”

He paused, leaning forward and flicking the buzzing vibe to high. She jerked in response to the sudden intensity, her head shaking back and forth, her mouth trying to say what sounded like ‘no’.

“The ball gag distorts your words so badly, my sweet horny slut. I’m sure you said ‘more’ right?”

Moving across the room to his toy chest, he removed a fat anal plug. She tried to see what he was doing, but another orgasm snatched thought from her mind as her body shimmied and jerked.

“Here you go, slut.”

He squirted lube over her pussy. It leaked downward, around the pressing head, making her contact with the device even more intense. When she felt the press of the plug against her ass, she knew that all that had transpired previously was just the warm up. She yelped as her butthole was filled, as he clicked the vibe on. The screeeeeetch of the duct tape roll he was fond of made her shake her head harder, but he ignored her again, and taped the ass vibe into her.

Two fingers slipped in and out of her cunt, making her moan. Felt so good to have him inside, but they moved out and away. He rubbed the juice of her fuck hole on her belly, slapping the soft, round skin there.

Again she arched, her body rocked by waves of pleasure, then waves of over-stimulation. So sensitive, she longed to scream out, but the gag held the pleading words inside her head.

“Aah. You must be so happy that you came again. Horny slut. What is that now? 10? 12? I’m afraid I’ve lost count. Oh.”

He tugged his phone from his pocket.

“I’m afraid I have to take this.  I’ll go into the kitchen so I won’t disturb your orgasms. The camera will record them for me so that I can watch them later. While I’m fucking your ass. I’ll be back in a while. No more than an hour, I think. Happy cumming, slut.”

With a wicked smile, he left the room, as she kicked and wriggled through another orgasm. From the hall she heard his ‘business voice’ as he took the call.

“Hello? Sure, hi. Oh, no not to worry. I wasn’t doing anything that I couldn’t interrupt.”

She came again, crying with the pleasure, and sobbing with the pain.