The Texts


  Hi Master. I know it’s only been a few days but…I miss you. I think I need to be fucked again.

Hi. Fucked, you say?

Well, you know how many orgasms I had (thank you!)..and my cunt is 
 feeling achey and I think it’s because it needs your cock slamming into it again. *giggle*

Well…tell me more about this…achey cunt.

Remember when you were standing behind me, and you pulled me over to the bed? 

When you shoved my face into the mattress, and slapped my ass? And I was moaning and you laughed at me for being such a painslut that I was 



just from the spankings?

Go on

well, I was laying in bed last night, rubbing my sore pussy, and my fingers got to caressing my clit -and you hadn’t said not to touch because you know

how horny I get after we play.

You do

Well..and I got all gushy thinking about you all of a sudden just ramming your cock into my pussy, then pulling back and slamming in again. I screamed becasue I came so hard, because it hurt 

So…you liked being hurt, and used so roughly?

I did. I did so very much. I wanna do it again. Soon. Seeing you once a month is so hard, Master. I become all floaty and happy and then so greedy for your touch. The bruises are amazing.

my tits are purple and blue and hurt when I put on my bra for work. Then I go to the ladies room and pinch my nipples when I pee and I came so close to exploding. My panties were soaked when I got home

I see.

To be honest, Master…

It’s good to be honest.

I’m touching myself now.

Send me a picture of your cunt.


Master? Where did you go last night? I was waiting for you to write back after I sent you the pic of my soaking wet pussy…

Master? It’s been several hours. I know you work hard but maybe a moment? Am  I being too needy for you?  Are you mad?

I’m here. I have been busy this morning. Your cunt was very messy. I think you should play with yourself some more. Maybe at work. Are you at work now?

HI!! OMG I’m SO glad you wrote back! Yes, I’m at work. 

Go into the bathroom and snap a pic of your tits for me. And then play with yourself until you cum, but take a pic of that, too.

Yes Sir!! I love doing tasks, You know how much I do.



I had two orgasms last night, thinking about your task for me yesterday at work. Thank you for that!

You are a slut.

you know it! 

I love your fat tits. They’re really juicy.

*blushes* Thank you Master.  

Let’s meet for lunch. Noon. The little coffee shop on the corner of Main and Washington Street.

omg yes, yes Sir, yes Master. 


She walked into the coffee shop but didn’t see her Master. Well, he always ran late, she thought it was just part of the mind fuck. She sat in the corner where his last text had instructed her to sit, unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse to show her cleavage.

She took no notice of the man getting up and moving towards her; the bathrooms were just down the hall from her seat. She looked up as he pulled out the chair.

“Oh, sorry, I’m waiting for someone-” she began.

“The someone you are waiting for is me.”

She blinked.

“What? Who are you?”

“Apparently, I’m your new Master.”


“I found the phone. It was in a store, fetched up under a rack of men’s dress slacks. I’d dropped my glove and found it under there, right next to the phone. I asked the guy at the register and he shrugged and said ‘congrats you found yourself a new phone.”


“Then you texted. Those texts show up on the front screen, even when it’s locked. I cloned the phone. I work in tech, and had a coworker help me. I couldn’t unlock his phone but I connected our lines so that I could continue to receive your texts. I think if he can’t find his phone, he’s shit out of luck. And if he has misplaced his slut in the process….well, finders keepers, yes?”

Her mouth opened and closed several times. She had no idea what to say.

“I see you are at a loss for words. Come with me.”

“I..I don’t even know you….”

“You sluts are supposed to obey, right? So obey.”

He took her hand, tugging her to her feet. She didn’t protest, couldn’t think, but stumbled along behind him to the men’s room.


But he shoved her inside the bathroom. She was ready to put up a fight now. No way was she going to fall for this ‘finders keepers’ stuff.

“Now you look here, you,” she said, but stopped with her mouth open when her Master stepped out of a stall. He had that smile on his face that filled her with equal parts dread and lust. The smile of the hunter who has sighted prey. The smile that presaged all sorts of wonderfully terrible things. Her nipples tightened, her cunt tingled.

“Hello, slut. It appears you’ve had an interesting few days.”

“Yes Sir. I’m so glad you’re here–”

His hand raised, cutting her to silence.

“Well slut, it’s about to get even more interesting.”


She understood how people felt back in the medieval days, strung out upon a rack. Her wrists were drawn so tightly that she could barely flex her fingers. Her thighs were tied open, spread embarrassingly wide, and her ankles bound too.

Open. Vulnerable.

He sat, a dark shape across the room. The light shining upon her body threw him into shadow. If not for the occasional shift of his body, she would have thought he had left. But no, he lingered there, staring at her.

She swore she could feel the weight of that glance, touching her tits, her nipples, drawn tightly into buds in the cool room. Perhaps she could feel his eyes stroking her pussy, each succulent lip devoured in a look. Her clit was swollen with her humiliation.


After forever and another minute passed, a creak from across the room drew her attention. He stood, moved towards her. From the shadow that was his form, a hand appeared in the light that bathed her body. A finger trailed up from her toes to her ankle. It slipped up along her inner calf, before curling up and around her knee.

“Oooh,” she squealed, trying unsuccessfully to move away. Silly, since she could barely wiggle her bottom. It set her fat tits to bobbling, though, and the finger rose from her ticklish knee to flick at one bouncing nipple. Her moan changed, deepened.

“This is desire. Arousal. The need to be touched…”

She swore she could feel His voice, a deep sound in the quiet dark room, in her bones.

“But for you, little one, an even deeper need. This.”

His flicking ceased, and he pinched her nipple firmly between that teasing forefinger, and his thumb. Arching with the sudden pain, she sucked in a breath.

“Yes,” he murmured, “You need this. As do I…”

His voice trailed off his hands gripped her tits, squeezing the soft flesh firmly until she whimpered. Quick as a striking snake, he slapped her face. A tear, single and sweet, pooled in her eye as she stared at him. Her cheek glowed from his hand; though she could not rub it with her wrists secured, she could feel the sudden heat.

His fingers pinched her tits, bruising the tender skin, drawing an assortment of noises from her. A quick slap on her left tit was followed by a pincering grasp of her nipple, and a shockingly sudden twist.

“OWIE!” she yelped, struggling. “It’s not the oven nob, there, Sir!”

“Perhaps not,” he agreed, “But I’m certain that it’s turning you on.”

She giggled, then moaned as he continued torturing his way down her body. He pinched her inner thigh, then caressed the apex of her pussy, but never quite touched where she yearned.

“Want something, slut?” He murmured.

“Yesss!” Her voice turned pleading. “I need you to touch me…I need to cum, Sir.”

“Ah. You want to cum, but that’s not the same as need. You need food. You need water-“

“I need it Sir. I really need to cum!”

“Are you sure?”

If she hadn’t been desperate, she might have taken note of the silky tone of his voice. But need overcame sense, and she nodded, and continued to beg for his touch. Still his fingers teased her, hurt her. Her cheek throbbed where he’d slapped her repeatedly, her nipples ached, but her cunt, aching with need, remained untouched.

How much time passed before he relented? She wondered how long he’d been tormenting her, how much more she could bear of his cruel fingers before she begged like a child for it to stop. If she did that, there’d be no orgasms for the month, she knew. She quivered when he spoke in her ear, his voice, carried in a caressingly warm breath.

“Okay, you may cum.”

His footfalls moved away, out of the light.


“Patience, little one,”

In a moment or two he returned, carrying his favorite toy.

“I thought you’d fuck me, Sir.” She tried not to sound petulant.

“You were mistaken. I will take my pleasure from you, little one. In my own time, in my own way, as always.”

“Yes Sir,” she replied, eyes downcast. She watched as he placed the bulbous head of the wand against her cunt. Felt it as he wedged it tightly between her pussy lips. Still, nothing happened, and he walked out of the light again.

She strained to hear, but he was quiet. The sound of duct tape being pulled off the roll was loud, and made her jump. She wanted to ask, but managed to shut her mouth. If she was too rude, too pushy, he’d stop this and she so desperately needed release.

Back at her side, he adjusted the wand and began taping it to her inner thigh.

“That’s going to hurt when I rip that off,” he mused. Then laughed quietly. She bit her lip, keeping silent.

“Good girl,” he said with humor, slapping her thigh. “This is what you wanted, to cum, am I correct?”

“Yes Sir!” she replied promptly, excitement in her voice.

“So be it!,” he said, and flicked the vibe to “on” mode.

The first orgasm came quickly, her body primed for release. She whimpered that she was done, and “Thank you Sir,” but still he played with her tits, ignoring the buzzing vibe.

“Oh! It’s so…too…oh…Sir!”

Her body arched with the stimulation, coming again. Again, the “Thank you Sir,” and again he ignored her, pinching and pulling her nipples, grabbing her tit meat and squeezing and kneading it.

“Oh GOD…plea….AAAaaaa…”

She came again.

And again. Tears, pleading, crying, begging him to stop, please.

“Cum for me, little one.”

Her body shook and quaked as the dastardly machine ripped another orgasm from her. He moved, then, placing his hand over her abdomen.

“Your muscles are shaking and quivering, and it’s only been seven orgasms!” He exclaimed. “It’s such and amazing feeling!”

By the eleventh she was muttering endless streams of “omygawd omygawdohmygawd…”. By fifteen she was drooling; sloppy, soaked with sweat and cum and tears.

As she quivered through the eighteenth wave, she barely felt the tape being pulled from her quaking thigh. She screamed as he jabbed into her sopping cunt with his stone-hard cock. He fucked her roughly, as she clenched around him, coming continuously. He held the vibe against her clit as he drove her up and over into incoherence. Strange words came from her mouth, along with grunts and moans. Her pussy gripped his shaft, her body trembling fiercely. With a final push, he buried himself in her belly as his cock injected streams of semen into her.

With a flick of his thumb, he turned off the vibe, and smiled, stroking his palm down the side of her face as she, still quivering, now slept. They’d both gotten exactly what they wanted.

He was pleased.


Many of you may know that I don’t believe in “New Years Resolutions”…I think if you need to change something, you acknowledge it and begin to work on it right away…maybe that’s the submissive at work in my deeper consciousness (after all, HE won’t wait for a change, right?). But it’s a long-held belief, and I started a few things that reared their ugly head during the late fall.

Like giving up soda, specifically diet soda. Yes, it’s terrible for you. I know it. But I was so busy, and not eating (can you believe it, a fat girl not eating?!)…and I needed the caffeine boost, so diet soda it was. And then the spins began. It happened when I was just, you know, standing. Or walking. Or once, while driving.

What. The. Everloving. Fuck.

I know I’m getting older, but not old enough for that. I knew there was a virus going around…but for the hell of it, I stopped the soda, and just like that, the dizzy spells ceased. And I had soda again, and got dizzy again. I have no idea what the correlation is, and don’t care…I just know that it’s out for me.

Which I’ve already fallen off the wagon on, twice. This isn’t about perfection, I was reminded by a friend. It’s about persistence. I’ve gone about 10 days now…

One of the other things I thought about in December as a semi-resolution, was to start blogging more regularly. After all, I now have TWO dangling stories, and I made myself a promise that I would finish them. I didn’t put a formal deadline out there but maybe before Easter. Why then? I don’t know. I just pulled a date out of my head that would be a good benchmark. And here I am, blogging two days in a row! It’s a New Years miracle. *laughs*

So, now it’s out there in public. In virtual print. Geeze. I’m NOT a commitment-phobe, so I guess I need to sit my ass down much more regularly, and get to it.

And I do have such a dirty mind.


It’s a Problem

When you (or in this case, *I*) go to log into your long-languished blog and you can’t remember the password …it’s a problem.

When you and your dominant haven’t spoken to one another in months…it’s a problem.

When you don’t have time for one another, even as little as getting or sending a text maybe every other day…it’s a problem.

Am I right?

My poor blog has *blows a breath, watches particles fly off* dust all over it. There’s been no new porn here in…forever. The stories are still here…they pop into my head daily. But the time to write is curtailed by kids. and work and life and my evenings I’ve fallen into bed and into sleep so quickly.

Wait. That’s not really true.

I blame Tumblr. My gosh, I got so sucked into that…I would spend hours every night in my bed, masturbating while watching so many gifs, reading micro fiction, peruse still pics…and the harder, rougher, dirtier, they were, the more intensely my orgasms became.

And then came Dec. 17, the Day of the The Death of Tumblr Porn. Suddenly some of my favorite sites were deemed unacceptable by the moderators of free speech…*coughs (censors) loudly*…

So the big T is now a small, tame world filled with puppies and tattoo’s and jokes. It’s definitely, definitely, a joke now. I wonder how many bloggers will come back to this type of format? *raises hand*

So the Tumblr problem is resolved, but the rest is not so easily fixed. Oh, He makes noises now and again about beating my ass once his gig is done. I know he worked crazy hours during the holidays (ain’t retail fun…not!). I also know I’m not putting much credence into his promises, and teasings, when he remembers to write to me…after all, he’s been promising time together since September.

So maybe I’m just over this porn thing? (er, then why was I coming so hard looking at all those nasty pictures…?) Oh, okay, you have me there. Maybe I’m just not into the Dom thing? Maybe I’m too busy to care anymore? My work has me working all kinds of crazy hours, and I love what I’m doing, and my kids need me, and my house, and pets, and and and…

Or, maybe I’m too busy because I’m afraid of caring/craving/wanting it so much again. I remember how intense the yearning is once it rears up. I remember the need to be touched, painfully. And the need for gentle kisses. I remember all the orgasms, those last painful, oh-too-many…please…no….And His crooning voice, ‘just one more…” and another, and another until I was so out of it I was flying through subspace. I recall the hot throbbing of my ass when he spanked me roughly, and the taste of him in my mouth. I can’t want all that again. Can I?

*huge sigh*

I don’t have all those answers. I’m not looking for them all that hard, either. Truly, it’s a problem…