The Garden

He rubbed his hands together gleefully. At long last it was here…the plant he had long searched for. Said to be nearly extinct, said to be housed in carefully guarded, extremely private conservatories, he had finally found a purveyor of the exotic.

Carefully, gently, he sliced through the packing tape, and eased open the box. Inside a second box, wrapped in plastic, with several moisture packs. He knew that inside that box would be self-heating pads, meant to keep his precious darling safe on its journey to him.

“Uvam Lignam Viriditas.” He spoke in a hushed whisper as he sliced through the plastic, and opened the inner box. With hands that trembled from sheer joy, he reached in and lifted the plant.

“Sour Stickweed, indeed. Your Latin name sounds far more elegant that this mundane name.” Bringing it to his face, he kissed it softly. It was the last thing he ever did.

Twenty-five Years Later…

The house had been listed for sale for more than two decades. The previous owner had disappeared, and his great nephew had no desire to take on the crumbling manse. Because the property had been let go, the roof caved in on the north side, letting rain water seep into the attic. It eventually led to a hole that extended, over time, all the way to the first floor. Bird roosted in the rafters, mice skittered on the second, but only the plants in the conservatory occupied the first floor.

Cori stood looking at the ruined building. She supposed that once upon a time it had been grand. Her boss must truly hate her, to give her the assignment of assessing the building, and putting an auction price on it.

“Zero,” she muttered. “I’d pay zero dollars for this. The land is great, but so overgrown it could rightfully be called an jungle. The house is a goner.” With a sigh, she adjusted her helmet, with headlamp, and grabbed her flashlight. “Might as well do this before all the light goes,” she grumbled.

The stone steps were still sturdy. The front door hung just slightly askew and she worried about rats. She had her workboots on, but still. The air inside was warm, humid, actually, and smelled of a sweet perfume.


She turned on the headlamp, and her flashlight, playing the beams around the front entrance. With a deep sigh, she pushed open the door, and discovered wonderland. Plants grew in mad profusion everywhere. Tall trees that must be oranges bore thick and luscious balls that were shades of green and orange, just like they were supposed to be. She walked on, mouth open. There were tall grasses, and pathways winding through the foliage. She heard running water, and turned her light in that direction. Somewhere upstairs, a pipe had broken. The stream ran down the marble staircase and cascaded to a dip in the floor, filling a shallow pool of water, before spilling out of the pond and sluicing off between two thick trees. She didn’t see any sign of humans, nor animals. though she had seen a few birds winging out of the roof when she’d pulled up in her truck.

Following the flow, she stepped into the deep tropics. The solarium had several broken panes where tall palms had pushed through and reached for the sky. Below, vines and shrubs bloomed in humid profusion. Here, the little stream from the foyer trickled down three short steps and pooled over the sunken floor. Water lilies bloomed in shades of purple, pink, white, and yellow. The flowering vines gave off more of the intoxicating scent she’d smelled when she first came through the front doors.

“This is amazing. A-mazing.” She turned in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. Nature was definitely reclaiming this space, and in grand fashion. “It’s wicked hot in here,” she said, shaking out of her jacket. She laid it over the twirly knob on the door. “I need to find the living quarters, the kitchen,” she mused, lifting her phone to snap pictures of the space. Something bumped her boot and she squealed. Looking down, she saw a plant.

“Well, where did you come from?” she asked it, laughing at her nerves. Two tendrils shot up and wrapped around her ankles.

“Whoa!” she said, trying to kick free. They might as well have been made of steel. Bending down, she began tugging at the vine around her right ankle, even as the left one began creeping up her leg.

“Hey HEY! OMG I can see it growing. This is weird!” Grabbing for her phone she tried to dial 911, but another seeking tendril plucked it out of her hand.



The voice was soft, muted. She was sure she was hearing things. A vine wrapped tightly around her upper thigh, slipped up her belly and into the space between two buttons on her shirt. She felt the warm softness of it, like a pussy willow, almost, as it slithered up against her skin.

“Jeeze NO…om…shit! Stop…”

Her wrists were captured, and somehow it had tugged her slowly to the ground. She didn’t fall, she knew she didn’t, but one moment she was upright, and the next she was laying on a cushion of vines. She was wrapped too tightly to move. Another vine was creeping under the waistband of her jeans, others slipping up inside her pant legs.

She felt a tug on her left nipple, a quick piercing prick. She arched as she felt it, felt it stabbing her nipple. The nipple began to tighten, then throb. It grew bigger, harder, feeling like it was going to explode. Inside her jeans, vines merged, pressing against her underpants, seeking the warm apex of her thighs. She felt quivery, lightheaded, and an incredible heat bloomed between her legs.

Head thrown back, body bowed, her nipples now both injected with some sort of plant venom, she stiffened as the most intense orgasm of her life shuddered through her. As the moisture dampened her panties, the vines wriggled under the elastic, and plunged forcefully into her cunt. The orgasm grew stronger, her mouth opened in a soundless scream as she came so hard she thought she would die. Her legs trembled, her nipples began to ooze milk, and her breasts pressed, fuller than they’d ever been, ready to burst free of her constricting clothing. The vines, twined together in a huge phallus, thrust into her, seeking more of her sweet juice. Several others sought entry, but she was full. Her anus slowly gave way to their probing. Another shuddering orgasm tore through her. The vines were squeezing her tits, coiled ’round them tightly, repeatedly stabbing her nipples with the small barbs. Shaking and convulsing, her pussy sprayed fluid, cum dripping through her jeans. The probing tendrils writhed in glory at all the sweet creamy goodness flowing over them, and continued to thrust until it found her deepest, warmest place. She screamed as the tendrils breached her cervix, pushing against her womb. There was a pulsing that she felt from the vine, and a sudden shocking feeling of terrible fullness. The pain was intense, but the orgasm that clenched her cunt around the intruding vines was even more wicked. With a gasping moan, she fainted.

When she woke up, she was laying on the floor.

“Oh shit, I peed myself,” she said to no one. “I must have slipped on the wet marble…” she felt her head, but didn’t find a sore spot. “Guess I was lucky. Don’t seem to be hurt.”

She put her hand on her grumbling belly. “Horny and hungry. Man. I need to get some time with my man.” The sexual need was intense, though she remembered none of the rape she’d experienced.

Rising, she gathered her phone, her flashlight. The day was all but faded.

“Okay, house, I’ll be back tomorrow.”


we babies will have

seeds were planted?

she carries them warm they come soon


tomorrow we finising using the huuman for babies

they come back to us she plant outside. we grow.

good. hooman femaaale taste better than hooman man.


Have You Ever…

That’s the title to some game, I think. Or one of those facebook things where you get points for all the things you’ve ever…

But no, my have you ever continues with…had a total week of hell?

I had a tooth pulled to start the week, and it was awful, terrible, brutal. I’m having complications from it, and so instead of finally losing the mouth pain that’s been a plague to me for the last year, I got a new, bigger pain.

Some pain just ain’t sexy.

I had to have the plumber come the next day for a household thing, not an emergency, but definitely a necessity. Then I had to have a cortisone injection, unrelated to my mouth issues. Then my kid passed out on me.

(he’s fine, btw, just some freaky thing, I guess.)

So there’s been some major cash flow issues, and major physical issues, and frankly, I’ve just had it up to here *smacks eyebrows* with all this nonsense. I’m done, stick a fork in me already!

ON the bright side, now that I’ve whined…

My gardens have sprung to life. There is green grass growing everywhere. The trees are leafing out, the birds are singing, and the air smells of spring. We’ve had a TON of rain up here in the northeast, so we could use a bit more blue-sky days. We’ve had several really warm days, which totally spoiled us for any “normal” temps.

And M and I are talking. I thought we were done, like for real. It’s been over a year since we last saw one another, and several months since we’ve even spoken on the phone. I wasn’t really sure if I was even into this …thing…anymore. D/s? What’s that? There’s been no pleasure in my pain, lately.

Then he texts me that we really need to plan a time to get together. For me to pick a day. (Which I’ve been unable to do, but hope to aim for June when life slows down a wee bit.) And he’s mentioned it TWICE which is frankly unprecedented.

There may yet be hope of something sexy to report here. I have stories in my head again–I was afraid they’d gone the way of my libido, but both seem to be on the upswing. Now if only I could find time in a bottle…or a bag…or in the corner of a pocket somewhere…!

Well That Wasn’t Fun at All

I know you think I’ve abandoned all you all…but I promise, you were all in my thoughts. I thought I had gotten through the winter without my annual visit from influenza, but at the tail end of February it slapped the holy fuck out of me (and I mean allllllll the fuck…). I’ve been recovering for the last 5 weeks, and still on antibiotics.

Somewhere in there I turned 60…so if you’ve ever fantasized that I’m some young, oversexed thing you’re half wrong…*laughs*

Anyway, I knew I was feeling better when I began to have sex fantasies once again, so there is hope.

I just wanted you to know I’m still here, and hoping to eke out time to write…something it was so much easier to do when my kids were little. Now it’s all MomTaxi shuttling hither and yon, and long winding conversations about things, as they wend their way through teenagehood.

I really love my life.

And I need to work a bit harder at putting the sexy stuff back in.

Anyhoooo…that’s where I am, and know that I’ll be back MUCH sooner with more fun dirty stories…


Plumber (a fantasy)

She looked up, startled and not a small amount alarmed when he
walked in through the back door, heavy red toolbox in his hand.

“What the-” She began, but he interrupted.

“Look, lady, I had to bump several other folks to get here. You said you had an urgent problem. Yet, here you are, washing dishes in the sink you said over the phone was clogged.”

“I…I never…”

“Look, I don’t have time for this shit.”

His face was intense, angry.

“Are you telling me you didn’t call? Are you lying to me now?”

From somewhere, she found her spine, slapped some of her own angry into her reply.

“I didn’t call you. I don’t know who the hell did, but it wasn’t me. You should-“

Her words were cut off as he crossed the room in three quick steps, and slapped her.

“Shut up! You’re going to have to pay the price for pissing me off now,” he said. Dropping the tool box on the counter, he pulled her across the room by her blouse, and across to the living area where a large sofa divided the rooms.

In one quick tug, he ripped her blouse open, tugging it down her arms.

“No…” she managed, before he slapped his hand over her mouth.

“You don’t want to do that,” he growled. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head fractionally to signal compliance. He slapped her again, harder this time. Her cheek burned, and she shivered as she cupped it.

“Please,” she whispered. “Not…here. In the living room. Anyone could drive by…”

He looked down at her, hawk-sharp eyes making her stomach flip. His hands were so big. They could hurt her so badly. Those eyes said more than his words. A promise. A threat. She dropped her gaze to the floor, trying not to see the huge lump in the front of his pants.

“I really don’t give a fuck who sees. Pull down your jeans. Not off. Leave ’em around your ankles. So you can’t run away, got it?”

A tear ran down her cheek as she unzipped her pants, pushing them to her knees, then lower. As she bent, his fingers poked at her, pushing her underpants into the slit between her ass cheeks. When she tried to rise, his hand pushed her back down. The crack of his hand across her bum caused her to jolt, her head hitting the back of the couch. He struck her ass several times, until the burning made her whimper, her hand sliding around to try to cover the aching area.

“Good, hold that ass open for me,” he chortled, even as he struck the other cheek. His cock slid into her pussy.

“You DO have a leak after all,” he said, his voice mean. “It’s coming from this tight little hole. I think I need to do some deep exploring to find the cause.”

She moaned as he jabbed his cock into her cunt.

“Oh…ooh…’s toooo big…” she whimpered.

“Did you say I was too big? Too big for your tight little pussy? Oh, don’t worry,” He continued at her nod. “I’ll make it fit.”

He raped her cunt hard, slamming roughly into her. Her slit responded by juicing even more, until a steady stream of it drooled from her with every stroke.




He growled the last word as his cock began pumping semen deep into her belly. Fucked from behind, bend nearly in half, she could feel the juice filling her. With a shudder, her orgasm overtook her.

Slapping her ass with both hands as he pulled away from her, he watched her pussy spasm, looking like it was gobbling his spunk up and holding it in.

A quick tap behind her knee sent her to the floor. Falling on top of her, he roughly fondled her tits, tugging at the nipples. He kissed her rudely, jabbing his tongue into her mouth in simulation of the rape of her cunt.

Dazed, she lay beneath him. She cried out when he bit her tender earlobe.

In a soft whisper he spoke.

“Still making lasagne for dinner?”

She nodded. With a final kiss on her cheek, and a slap on her ass, he rose.

“Gotta go to work. Bye bye…little whore.”

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…



That’s what this is. Pure fantasy, to titillate and amuse. Not to condone true rape, nor true violence. These works are works of fantasy and should never be taken as consent to force yourself upon a stranger, unless you’ve met, crafted an agreement of consensual non-consent, and have a safeword, and a safecall on standby. 

I Know What You Like (v1)

The doorbell rang. And again. And again. Hauling ass from the shower, he held the towel tight to cover himself as he cracked open the door.

“What the-“

“I know what you like.”

The young girl, no more than 25, he figured, looked at him with her head tilted and a firm smile on beautifully shaped lips. Her eyes were blue, bright as a September sky, and stared straight into his without shyness. Her long straight hair fell well below her shoulders, but the rest of her was shrouded in darkness and swathed in a dark coat.

“What? I think you have the wrong house little girl.”

She stepped up to the doorstep, and placed her hand on his wet, bare chest, then had the temerity to push past him and into the house.

“Hey!” He was shocked and discomfited to have her just stroll in like she owned the place.

“This isn’t your house…you need to leave.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, her smile almost feral. Maybe she was some kind of thief. He peered out the door but saw no other people. 

“Who are you? What the hell are you doing in my house?” His words seemed to bounce off her back.

“Come here,” she said, and strolled to the kitchen.

“Sit,” she directed him to a chair. The only light in the room came from the nightlight of the oven range.

“Mark, you don’t know me, but I know you, and I know what you like. You see, my mother cleans here for your wife. A few weeks ago I came to help her out. I was bored, and had some time and she wasn’t feeling well. I did the upstairs while she was down here, cleaning up the mess she told me you always made when you cook.”

She shook her head. 

“You really take advantage of her, you know. Making such a mess then walking away from it? That’s little kid stuff. But we’ll talk about that later.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she held up her hand, mimed shutting her fingers, and he fell silent.

“I found the toys under the bedside table in the box. I thought it was funny that you were kinky, seeing as I was too. I didn’t quite understand the situation fully until I dusted your wife’s nightstand and found your cock cage. That’s when I realized that you and I were on opposite sides of the slash. I am most definitely not a submissive, and you, dear boy, are.”

She smiled again, one that did not speak of humor. 

“There’s going to be some changes around here. I know that your wife is away for the week at a conference. And you’ll be mine to enjoy until she returns. While I know she dominates you, I’m not certain that she’s a true dominant, or if she’s just a top because you need one.”

“Drop the towel and come here.”

She pointed to the floor between her feet.

“Look here. I…I’m not going to just take orders from you, little one. You’re half my age-“

A quick flick of her wrist dropped a crop into her hands, slapping it against his chest, making him yelp. She struck him again. His nipple began to swell, the button of it drawing tight. 

“Oh, I may be younger than you, but I know what I’m doing, and I’ll beat your nipples bloody if you don’t get your fat ass over here.”

He slid off the stool and stood before her. A sharp tug released the towel, revealing his caged cock. 

“It looks like you’re ready to service me,” she said, noting the mangled position of his cock. The crop slapped against the cage, making him wince.

“I think we’re going to have a lot of fun, you and I. And when your wife returns, I think it can only get better. Come along, boi. I hope your tongue is in good shape.”

Turning she strode away, leading him towards the stairs. He moaned as his cock tightened inside the restricting cage.


She was in the bedroom. It was surreal. How the fuck did this even happen in real life? In porn, sure, it was a sexy fantasy, to be molested by a stranger. But in the now? He wasn’t a pussy. He was a serious businessman, by damn. He was going to handle  her like he handled…

Thoughts scattered as he stepped into the room. She was unbuckling her coat. Beneath it she wore nothing.

“I’m not one of those Dommes that like to wear corsets and ankle-breaking boots. I like to be comfortable and I’m most comfortable naked. That doesn’t mean that I won’t discipline you when it’s needed. Or when I feel like it. I enjoy giving pain. I enjoy sex. I enjoy being serviced, and watching you want to fuck me.” 

She pointed to the massive four-poster.

“Get up on the bed.”

“Now, young…”

“It’s ma’am or mistress. Take your pick. But if you call me young lady, woman, or girl again I will crop your ass purple.”

He froze. There was a truth to her words, to the tone of them that made him know that she meant every word. He moved to grab her wrist, but she slapped the crop over his wrist then his cheek, drawing welts. His hand reached to his cheek.

“HEY! Ouch!”

“You only touch when I say you can. Try to disarm me again and I will hurt you. Look at you. Your cock is already trying to push its way out of the cage. You’re erect and in pain, and all it takes is a slight amount of pressure…”

She slapped the cock cage hard with the crop, then with her hand. He yelped, leaping back, hand covering his genitals. 


“Follow the rules and I won’t have to discipline you, boi,” she said. 

Their eyes met, clashed. After a long few breaths, he dropped his, cursing her in his mind even as he felt his spirit thrill to be so completely dominated by the little…Mistress.”

“I don’t even know your name,” he whispered to the floor.

“Heather. That’s ‘Mistress Heather’ to you.”

He nodded. The crop came up, lifting his chin. 

“No nodding. You may use your words. Try ‘yes, Mistress Heather’.”

He looked at her nose, too nervous now to meet her eyes.

“Yes Mistress Heather,” he responded.

“Good boy,” she said, stroking her fingers over his nipple. He moaned.

“Where is the cage key? I know you have access to it while she’s away. Fetch it for me.”

He pointed to the bathroom; she pointed with the crop. He returned in seconds. Taking it, she released the lock, and began removing the cage from him. He moaned as his squished shaft stretched out.

“That must be really painful, that nice thick cock all mashed in there like that.”

“It is.”

“Well, don’t get too comfortable…it’ll be back on soon enough.”

Her hand clasped over the tender meat, then roughly began pumping his shaft. He moaned, groaned, begged her to go easy, to no avail. When he spurted, she pointed it at her tits. 

“Your next erection is mine. And it will take you much longer to cum now. Clean your nasty goo off of me.”

She settled back on the bed, as his fluid slid down her belly.

“And be very thorough.”

Grabbing his hair she guided him to her left tit, and smiled as he began to lick.