can’t, she whimpered. Her head thrashed from side to side, the only part of her body free to move.

“You will.”

His voice was implacable. His will be done, she knew but she was going to die.

hell of a way to go, her brain said, as her body jerked. Fluid jetted from her swollen vulva, her pussy red from the beatings of hand and toys. Her clit throbbed, her nipples tightened. Again.

He rested the vibe against her slit as she whimpered, and leaning over her, snapped a tiny elastic over her nipples. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, and her nipples radiated pain. Her pussy flushed a deeper red.

The vibe slipped inside her pussy and pumped hard and fast.

nooo i can’t, i can’t i caaaaaannnnn…”

Her body arched against the ropes that held it down, open, accessible to his every touch. Her mouth opened in a high keening nnnnnnnn sound that drew a smile from him. It was the sound of ultimate surrender. She could not control what happened to her. She’d wanted orgasms, not pain.

Many orgasms.

He just did what she wanted, he reminded her as she sagged back against the mattress. Orgasms and not pain. Orgasm after orgasm is what he gave her. His gift, his acceding to her desires. He wondered if she thought it was a gift still.

Her head moved, perhaps a nod of agreement. Sweat matted her hair to her forehead. Her nose and eyes were slick with other fluids, including his come.

She’d been so pretty when she’d come into the room, hair long and loose and softly curled, makeup just so, skirt and shirt tidy and sexy.


Now she was a wreck, a ruin of a slut, broken and weeping and coming again. Covered in sweat and come and tears, she’d gone from pretty to something else entirely. She was his. And he made her come apart.

And she was beautiful.


Slut on Call (4)

His hands stroked over her bottom. Somehow he’d flipped her over, when she had been limp and fight-less after cumming for what felt like hours. The slap of his palm on her flesh made her jump, gurgling out a cry against his pillow.

“Your ass. Sweet.” His hand cupped the round smiles, then a single finger slid from the top of the divide, down, down, and down until the digit rested against her anus. It was clenched tight. He felt the resistance. He slapped her butt again. A slight rise of the hips, a grunt. Another blow, another rise of the bottom against his finger. Hard to tell if it was surprise, or her body so stimulated that all sensation was overwhelming.

He very much enjoyed overwhelming her.

The finger slid further, wetting itself in the slickness that wept from her pussy in a constant river. It twisted into her cunt, rubbing against that spot that no one had ever touched before. Hips rolled as he cajoled another orgasm from her.

While the paroxysms boiled in her blood, he pierced her ass with the slippery digit. Sliding his lubed finger in and out of her butthole, he twisted and wriggled it. She moaned. She whimpered, and while he watched, she spurted even more juice.

She was one horny fucking bitch!


She didn’t know what she was even asking for now. Please stop? or Please never stop? The sensations were overwhelming. Forgotten was her empty stomach. Forgotten was the mail she’d brought to him. Forgotten was everything except for the sensations pouring through her body. Every wiggle pressed him deeper.

And then a second finger joined the first. Her gasp of surprise was expected. As was the deep moan when a third stretched her wide.  He fucked her ass hard then, pressing the three digits palm-deep into her butt, his cock throbbing like a fucking toothache. A steady drool of precum leaked from him, and he knew he had to be inside her now or he’d squirt all over the sexy bottom in front of him.

His fingers slid out to her moan. His cock pressed in, immediately. She stiffened, but her ass had been broached before she could stop him. Lubed by her own cum, and his, he slid balls deep in seconds. Her head fell forward, after rearing back. He took a fistful of hair, pulling it back so he could watch her face as he slid out, then back. Her anus clenched around his shaft, milking him. He breathed shallowly, using every trick he’d ever learned to hold it off. He imagined his feet in ice water, his balls in the ocean, his mom walking into the room.

The firey need to cum boiled through him.

Slamming into her ass, he yanked her hair back, hard, making her spine arch, a beautiful and inviting curve, lifting her buttocks high, inviting his infernal probing of her nether regions. Eyes half-closed, her mouth open, his eyes traced all the round curves of her, cheek, spine, lips, ass, hip. He listen to the raw raggedness of her breathing, exciting him, adding more fuel for his internal fire. He felt her cunt convulsing, knew the slut was cumming.


His balls threatened to explode. The combination of heat and sexual submission, the curves and softness, the strength and wanton arousal…all assaulting his control.


Her scream as she jetted a geyser onto his thighs startled him for a moment, pressing him deep into her butt, his balls saturated by her squirting fluid.

“You fucking whore! You sprayed your cunt-juice on my balls!” He laughed, teeth clenched. No slut had ever done that before.  He needed to cum. She was draining his control one yelp at a time, one powerful orgasm at a time.

“You’ll have to clean that up. Later.”

Twisting his hips, feeling the grab at the base of his cock, her anus sucking on his root, he could hold back no longer. Her hair slid from his grasp as he reached for her hips. He withdrew an inch, then rammed deeper, pulsing and filling her buttpipe with his jism.

With a final pulse, he fell forward, lying atop her back.

“Sweet fucking whore.” His words whispered against the back of her neck. Her hair was sweat-soaked, and clung to the roughness of his beard as he nuzzled there. He wanted to bite, to possess. Instead, he licked, tasting the salty tang of her.

His fingers found her tits, and grabbed them, clutching tightly, as they both fell into a totally depleted slumber.


Today is THE day. You know…500,000 Day. Half a million. As of writing this at 1030 Monday night, there are less than 200 view to go. Who will be lucky 500,000? Exciting day ahead!! *grinning hugely* ~ nilla ~


Fist in her hair, he pushes her backwards across the room, his other hand arcing stinging swats against her tits. They bobble from the blows, she moans. It hurts, with an ache she can’t deny–and yet it arouses. The needy wench inside her that stirs to life at every visit with him uncoils her threads within her until she feels every pulsing panting riot of need. Every molecule sings with it. Every heartbeat reverberates along the prints of his palm on her breast.

He propels her backwards until her back bumps the dining room table. Eyes glowing, he pushes hard until she is fallen across it.

His words, bullet sharp, pin her to the table as effectively as rope.


“Don’t move.”

He moves around the table and she hears his belt releasing, the sound of his zipper stitching downward, the whisper of fabric over skin. Behind her, his hands hook her arms. She is pulled across the table, head hanging off like a broken doll.


One hand fists in her hair as his cock finds her mouth. The other slaps the belt down across her tender belly, her mons, thighs, and tits.

“Open your legs.”

She is reluctant, but his cock lurches forward, stealing her breath. His hand is a fist in her hair, holding her head, her nose mashed against his balls, the heavy smell of man piss an acrid burn in her nostrils.

She can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t swallow. Spots dance, her head seeks freedom. Her legs open, and he withdraws.

She steals a breath, only to push it from her lungs in a scream when the belt lands firmly at that junction of thighs, to that center of tender folded flesh.

Backwards, her mind is thrown, to the day she met this darkly dangerous man.  To the pain and torment and delicious pleasures He bestows.

His cock fucks into her mouth again, grabbing her ears and driving deep, holding, holding. He pulls away, satisfied with her capitulation,  accepting her submission as he uses her lips to harden his already rigid cock.


Dizzy she sits, as he pulls her close to the edge of the table.

“Legs around my waist. Support yourself as I fill you. You’d better be wet…”

Her smile bloomed. This was always her problem, being wet for him. Ever since that first day, that first time, he spoke and she oozed.

He tugged her until the spit-wetted head of his shaft pressed against her dripping hole, tugged her again, impaling her by slow inches, until she was filled with him.

His hands cupped her bottom.

“Legs around. Tighter. You relax, you fall.”

Her arms wound around his neck, as he moved her backwards again, until they fetched up against a wall. He used that momentum to bury himself that last inch into her. Pressing into her deepest space, stretching and filling her completely.

He fucked hard, her back pounded against the wall as he drove into her with hard, deep strokes.

She came, came again, felt her left leg losing strength as he drove her yet again into bliss, felt her body unfolding from his, undone, as the stars called her name.

He staggered with her weight, falling back, and back, until he fetched up against the couch. He fell backward into the soft depths, felt her falling into him, pouring over him, feeling the oxymoron of lovers–so blissfully empty, yet sublimely full.




i wrote this way back in June, and for whatever reason, never published it. It’s a wee snippet from a playdate with Master, way back when the summer breezes were blowing, and things were hot and full and ….(yeah, I’m not talking about the summer anymore, am i? *grin*)…

It was late in the day, but I wasn’t ready to stop. We’d had a bit of a breather, a bit of some refreshing sports drink to try to re-hydrate a little bit. We were laying twined together, likely He was poking or pinching some part of me.

I remember a wave of horny just flowing over and through me.

It was intense and incredible. I pressed the junction of my thighs against his lower leg. His hairy, thick, strong leg.

“What? What? Are you humping my leg?”

I giggle. Totally busted, I laugh and nod.

“Well, get on then, and do something with it.”

I think He likes to see me that totally desperate. Humping and writhing against his flesh, grinding my throbbing clit where the bone passes close to the surface; the hardness makes me yearn all the more.

I’m almost there…panting, head drooping, sliding up and down his lower leg.

“You’re not going to cum on me, are you?”

I nod frantically, and make mewling noises.

“Ewwww,” He says, “Pussy slime on my leg!” And I giggle and start to lose the almost-ready-to-cum. Whining a bit, I’m slowing down, tiring fast.

Then out of the blue He says, in this curious, musing tone…. “All of the chairs in your house must have very skinny legs!”

And I fall over to my side, and give into the hysterical laughter.  I lay there, tangled in my own hair, feeling the weight of his large hand on my head as I absolutely convulse in amusement. I’m not just giggling, not mere laughter, but gut-wrenching deep guffaws that drain me completely, accompanied by laughter tears.

Killed my orgasm with laughter…wiley Man. (He was laughing almost as hard as I was, I should add.)

A bit later, after we’d recovered some semblance of decorum, I tried to get up. He would not let me.  Silly slut…I thought pussy was done, she was tender, swollen. Definitely done.

He was not done.

And that’s all that really matters, right? He pinned me so that I couldn’t move an inch…hair pegged under His shoulder, His strong leg over mine, holding me open and pussy accessible. He pinched my nipple, then the other, then His fingers slipped lower. I tossed my head no, no…moaning. His mouth over mine, kissing me, shushing me, taking my struggle into Him.

He parted my lower lips, squeezing my clit, drawing more moans from my mouth, into His. Writhing, trying to get away, there was no place to go. His fingers pressed on, moving deeper into my cleft, hurting, and turning me on. So sore from an intense day of fucking and beatings. So swollen from so many orgasms.

“You’re wet. Soaked. You slut.” He whispers into my ear as His fingers find my opening and begin to glide inside of me. Soft, gentle but insistent, He is suddenly inside me, his big fingers filling me. It hurts so, my flesh is so tender inside, outside…and yet, with the pain is a growing need. My hips roll, seemingly of their own accord, urging Him to come deeper inside me.

“Whore,” He whispers, then takes my mouth in a savage kiss, swallowing my groans as He suddenly fucks me mercilessly hard, curling His fingers inside me, hitting all those tender trigger spots. The orgasm roars through me ~ a tsunami of sensation ~ and still he fucks me brutally.

“There’s more there, I know it,” He growls against my ear. “you’re not done yet, slut,” and He pummels my pussy.

I cum again, harder than the first time, squirting effusively on His hand, the bed, my legs. And still He fucks, His voice whispering “more” and driving me wild.

The last orgasm, harder and wetter than all the others, clamps down on His hand, muscles locked in a paroxysm of overwhelmed sensation as I go rigid in the throes of wild release.

I wake slowly, disoriented. I’m speaking in tongues, He tells me later, one of His favorite parts. Driving me to the point where I am insensate, can no longer think/protest/fight/speak is, I think, His ultimate goal.

He won, again.

Then again…so did I.


Continuing Adventures of Klutz Slut

He knocked on the door in that peremptory way that she adored. In that series of hard, firm knocks, she felt his unspoken command…to her it said, I’m here, slut, open the fucking door.

She’d been running a bit behind, and had been in the bathroom, struggling to attach the last frigging garter to her hose. She’d wriggled and twisted and finally got that last damn one on. How the hell women did that every day back in the ’40’s was an amazement to her. She straightened her corset, adjusted her boobage, and at his knock, did a fast check in the mirror to make sure her lipstick was on correctly.

She felt the “exercise” balls  inside her pussy move with her. He’d told her to insert them first thing. It had been tricky, but she’d gotten it done. They made her horny…then again she was always horny!

Turning, she tripped on the bathroom rug and slid a few feet before catching herself on the door jamb. Geezuz! Holding onto the frame for a minute, she heard his impatient knocking on the door, again. Uh oh. He did so very much hate waiting.

Click clak, her heels tapped across the floor.  The right one was clacking more than clicking. Looking down, she saw the strap had snapped, likely when she’d done the half-gainer across the bathroom floor. She reached the door, whipping it open just in time for him to rap her forehead.

He laughed. He didn’t apologize, as she rubbed her head and scowled.

“That’ll teach you to be more prompt, slut,” was all he said as he moved past her. She shut the door, leaning against it for a moment. Bastard!  He had already moved down the hall to her bedroom.

“Did something explode in here?” he asked, looking around her room.

“Um. No. I just..had trouble deciding what to wear.” Quickly she scooped up discarded hose, two corsets, a chemise, and stuffed them into her closet. She shook off the broken shoe, but before she could reach for a new pair, he grabbed her from behind.

“I like this one. Like the posture, too.” His hands caressed her ass as she hung there, bent over, one foot flat on the ground, the other in a 5 inch stiletto.

“Sir…” she protested.

“Stay right there, slut.” His tone carried just a hint of warning. A ‘move at your peril’ tone.  She heard him rummage in the black bag he’d thrown onto the bed. Oh my. She both hated and loved that bag.

He returned, stroking down the ribbon of the back garter.

“Liking the way this looks, stretched over your ass like this.” There was a sharp *smack* and she yelped. His hand. He’d slapped her with his hand.

Fake out.

“Hey! Ouch!” Rearing up, she’d turned, just as he snapped the short flail on her back. One tendril whipped up, catching the corner of her eye. The absolute shock of it made them both freeze for a moment, then she dissolved into a fit of giggles. She could only think of “You’ll put your eye out kid” from A Christmas Story. She collapsed onto her knees, then just lay on the floor guffawing. For a moment, he stood there, looking at her.

Between guffaws, she managed to spit out the line.

“You’ll put….” laugh, laugh laugh…

“…your eye…” guffaw, moan


“KID,” they spoke in unison, as they both laughed. The moment of hilarity was cathartic, and a nice transition from her shaky start.  He checked her eye, which was fine, wiping away her laughter tears with one hand, while pinching her left nipple with his other. The sharp tug of pain shut off her giggles like the snap of a switch.

She moaned.

He smiled, pinching harder.

She yelped as he tugged her upward. Quickly she moved, forgetting the missing shoe, and canting suddenly to the leeward, she thought he would pull her nipple off.

“OW” she screeched.

“Slut! For fucks sake, move!” He was impatient now, never a good thing. He grabbed the full meat of her breast, and hauled her upwards, then shoved her back onto the bed.

With a gasp, she felt the balls in her pussy shift and press against her g-spot.

“Sir!” Was all she could manage before the pressure became unbearable. Lifting her legs, his fingers parted her folds even as her belly clenched and her orgasm cascaded through her.

“You little slut!” He laughed. What a relief, he was delighted and not mad at her for cumming. Then again it had been out of her control. His palm caressed the wetness, the heel of his hand rubbing roughly across her clit as he cupped her. A finger probed into her clenching hole, and she whimpered as another orgasm grew fast on the heels of the first.


“Cum, slut…cum hard for me..” His eyes drank in the view of her madly convulsing pussy,  as she twitched and moaned again. Sliding her legs over his shoulders, his hand moved away, quickly replaced by his mouth. She knew how much he enjoyed eating her, and in seconds she felt his tongue caressing her, delving into each valley, sucking each plump lip into his mouth. He sucked, he lapped, he bit, his finger pushing those fucking Ben-wa balls around her cunt.

She lost count of the orgasms he pressed her through. She lost consciousness twice. And still his mouth attacked her. It was a different type of torture, but it was torture. Pleasure, as a weapon. She moaned as a finger pressed into her ass, sawing in and out, and gave into the indescribable pleasure again.


She roused to find him peering down at her. He was laying against her side, fingering her nipples.

“Welcome back,” he greeted her.

She felt full. Exhausted. Her mouth was dry as the Sahara, but her pussy was drenched.

“I really wanted to fuck you when you were out there,” he waved his hands towards the ceiling. “In subspace. But we have a problem slut.”

Blinking, she looked up at him, confused. Why was there a problem with him fucking her? He could do anything to her just now, with zero resistance. She was wrung out on sex, high on the endorphins cruising through her body.

“The balls, slut.”

She shook her head trying to clear the last dregs of orgasm-sloth from her brain.

“You told me to insert the balls, Sir,” She spoke slowly and carefully, like a drunk trying to not slur in front of the cops.

“Right. But the string, slut. It needs to hang out of your cunt so that I can remove them when I want to fuck you.”


Head tossing. Moaning. Struggles to get away.

All fruitless endeavors.


I was stuck, His elbow on my hair, His arm holding me, my arms cuffed and tied above my head as I lay, pinned open. My tits were pinched, twisted, slapped, squished, and bitten.

His hand falls with steady, measured blows.




My breath comes out in short gasping breaths. H=u-r=t=s….moan..moan..oho ohhhhh…

Can’t close my legs to shut Him away. He hits a bit harder…




Now I moan in earnest. It goes from subtle sexual pain, to pure pain. I feel the lips of my pussy swelling even more.

It’s the end of playtime.

Time for “nilla quickies” as Master calls them. When I am no longer capable of rational speech. When I am moaning and whimpering and “speaking in unknown languages” which are “senseless, but cute,” as He says it.

In my head I’m saying I can’t.

I can’t.

I simply cannot cum anymore.

The bed is soaked with my juices. I’ve had most of a sports drink, several glasses of water…but I’m done.

Can’t. Cum. Anymore.

When my pussy is one steady throbbing mass of flesh. Feels swollen like…like a grapefruit is between my thighs.  Yet as His fingers wander down through my folds…

“You’re WET! You slut!” and He’ll chuckle that evil chuckle of His, and start to caress my tender clit.

You know, the one He’s just finished pummeling with pussy smacks?

Yeah, that one.

I can’t move, can’t get away…just have to take it. I say nooooooo….and He laughs….and slips His fingers inside me.

And I rise into each stroke..He rubs my spots…all the spots…then grabs the top of my pussy, squeezing the tender flesh, my lips, my clit, the tender sexual spot just inside…


I cum.

And lay, tears leaking from my eyes, as my pussy, that traitor, twitches and clenches on His fingers…and wets Him.

“See, I knew it.”

And then He’ll start stroking again. Sometimes even as I’m cumming He’ll be stroking, and fucking. He might pinch my clit and a nipple simultaneously. Or bite and suck that nipple so painfully, as He jabs His fingers into me, taking me rough and brutally, the way I like it.

I cum hard.

Then at the end. My end.

There is nothing.

Pussy is dry.

“Ssshhhh….” He whispers. “I know there’s another in here. It’s hiding. But it’s in there….”


“cum.” He says, His voice implacable.

It’s the only clear thing I remember. It is a lifeboat in a sea of sensation.


I obey, and sink into darkness.



Somewhen in the vast reaches of our time together, after multiple forced orgasms, after fucking, and biting, and beating…

He flips me over on my back. I grunt, I remember, because my shoulders were so sore from the beating, and the biting. My ass was throbbing dully, and my pussy, too, but to different beats. It was a discordant rhythm that my body was playing, all a blend of disharmony that somehow set up awesome harmonics within me.

He healed me, by beating me.

By fucking me.

By using me hard, and heavy.

Then He tugs me, on my back, across the bed, heedless of my small moanings. Tugged like I was a rag-doll…and you all know I’m no lightweight. My head flops off the bed; I feel the heat of his thighs on either side of me, the roughness of hairy legs. The push of His cock on my face, my lips.

He reaches down and takes my cuffed hands, and hooks them together behind His back.  Reaching down, He slapped my inner thigh until my legs opened, aiding in my balance.

He is wordless.

I am blindfolded.

He makes me figure out what He wants, by slapping my pussy. I lick His balls, laving them, lapping at them, making Him moan. If I please Him, He stops slapping my pussy, and starts playing with my tortured clit. It is so sensitized by now, that even a gentle rubbing makes me cum.

I moan against His ballsack, mumbling “no…no…no…”

Cumming is sweet torture…and becomes simply torture.

He moves His hips, and immobilized as I am, I can do nothing to stop Him. Nothing to stop His cock entering my mouth (not that I don’t want it. I do, I do!)

But at the same time, His fingers slip inside me and begin fingerfucking me roughly. I squirt nearly instantly…I feel the wet explosion, as I mumble NO around a mouthful of  cock, trying to get my mouth clear of it so that I can protest. I do, yet, with the position He has put me into, when I open my mouth to say anything there are His balls. I’m effectively gagged between His legs, His cock, His balls, as He stands there, getting sucked off, and torturing my pussy.

I come again.

And again.

And again.

And, yes, again.

The number of orgasms is uncountable. All this in silence. He says nothing to me, just plays with me. Pulling my nipples, slapping my tits, pinching my belly. Fucking my pussy.

Fucking my pussy.

Fucking my pussy.

He doesn’t cum in my mouth. He reaches up, and I feel His hands unclasping my wrists, then He steps back, tugs me up upon the bed.

Does He cuddle with me? I think so.

Seriously? I don’t remember that part yet. It will come back to me, or He’ll tell me about it.

And by the way?

I loved every fucking minute of it! The loss of breath from time to time, the banging of my head with His legs, the taste of Him, the objectification of Him plucking away at my body, as He did whatever the fuck He wanted to…all of it was a HUGE turn on.

oh. Did I forget to mention the anal beads?

Next time, my pervies, next time.


Torment of the Denied.

Thursday continued the trend of the last week, certainly of the last 5, easily summed up in one word…


i had thought that my piecework was all done, but the ongoing challenge in being their #1 worker, the “go-to” girl…is that i often get phone calls saying they need me to finish this or that job. And i had thought i was “done”….but the phone rang and there was nilla, herding kids into the car and heading out again.

And it’s good money; who turns down work in this economy, right? And i’ve taken on a third part-time job, and am learning the ropes on that one. And. Wow.

Didja read aisha’s post today? It’s all about stress and work and letting go and breathing…and finding that elusive quiet place.

And i think about trying but don’t see how because i’m so fucking busy for every moment of the day. But my wifes tv show sent me to bed early (nilla does not like vampires, despite liking being bitten!) and i used that time to do some reading i needed to do, some emailing i needed to do.

And i had time to just be in a little peace bubble. Yes, i was doing something, but a task i *wanted* to do, as well as needed to attend to.

So, you’re looking at the title and going “so nilla, what the fuck does all this angst have to do with the title?”

Ha. See, i’m circling around to it. Thursday, as you may remember is ZNN Day (Zero, Nada, Nyet–no touching, no playing, nothing!). And for whatever reason, despite an incredibly full work week, life week–despite an intensely explosive orgasm on Tuesday AND Wednesday…i was horny as hell all day.

Can’t explain it. Last week when i was so tired, i was not horny all that much (well, normal horny, i guess?? i know, wtf is “normal horny”…).

Tuesday night i had a huge pair of O’s danced to His tune (He set up the parameters…clamps on nipples, teasing the clit for so long, even to the speed on the now famous Dildo Dan…). That first O came fast, and the second, at His insistence on increasing DD’s power, came even harder (squirting everywhere) than the first one.

Wednesday was an exact repeat, but yanno? Our bodies are wired so the same stimulus doesn’t always have the same results. Everything was the same, clamps, vibe speed, everything.

Once more the first O was fast. Not squirty, but not far from it either. Then ramping DD up to full power, i got squirmy, and al-most there…..and it faded away.


and i kept fucking and working it, and it was getting closer.

and closer.

and yes…almost there….

and fade.


Are you KIDDING me?

i am mad now, and gritting my teeth. Coz the one difference was that i HAD to have this 2nd o done by 9:59 pm (His way to get me to bed early!). Yet i had plenty of time, making my way upstairs by just past 9, and going right to bed.

But not to sleep, mind you!

So there i am, gritting my teeth and working like a fury trying to cum. And i’m teasing, and tweaking and pulling my nipple chain and squirming.

But i just couldn’t get up the fucking hill to the other side.

But there was no fucking way i was giving up the fight.

Now it’s a matter of pride. Of perseverance.  Of guts, for glory.

Okay that last bit might be too much…but not by much!! I was fighting tooth and nail (gee, can i get any more metaphors stashed into one blogpost??!!) for this danged orgasm, and my pussy was not going to win.

Or …was going to win?


It finally happened. The just-right combo of sensation, of clenching, of timing…i was dripping sweat, my hand was cramping, i was so tired. So tired.

And i came and it was GINORMOUS.


It was almost life altering. I howled, i keened, i’m amazed no one called 911 for the woman making all that noise. Nor did it disturb wife and kids.

When i could see again (who knew you really go blind?? *giggle*), i dialed Master. I couldn’t see all that good and had no idea what time it was.

I still sounded like i’d been running laps, and He asked me if i had called Him to pant in His ear like a winded something. I don’t remember what unflattering thing He said, but it made me laugh.

And i don’t recall stopping laughing for however long i spoke to Him. And i don’t recall the entire rest of the conversation. Total blank. He told me later He could tell i was high on cumming.

And thank God for ZNN, since it was more than obvious that i needed it, after tormenting myself that way.

45 minutes it took me to reach that second cum. Three quarters of an hour, laboring for satiation. Talk about a greedy slut, eh? But i didn’t give up!

Last night was terrible hard for me. So horny, so needy. Sometimes on ZNN, especially when i am tired and it’s late, i get a bit dry. Not last night. i was soaked. Dripping. Incredibly turned on.

So i called Him. Maybe i wheedled a bit for an O.

(right, as if that would help)


And He began teasing me. Tormenting me.

well, little girl, if you are that wet, then be sure, absolutely sure, that you don’t think about your throbbing, wet pussy. Don’t think about My cock pushing in and out of there, gosh, that would be terribly arousing.

So don’t think of that.

And I’d be sure to put Dildo Dan out of your thoughts, too, slut. All that humming against your clit, like last night? Gee, nilla, the thought of that could almost make you spontaneously combust or something!

So don’t think of that.

And whatever you do, don’t think of my mouth on your pussy. Oh, gawd, don’t think of how hard I suck your clit, how my tongue stabs into your hole, tasting your juices.

That would be *awful* nilla. Don’t think of that at all, okay?

And i’m squirming and writhing, and moaning. His voice is like liquid silk…husky and sexy and such a damned turn on. i can feel ‘pussy honey’ streaming from me, and i moan at Him, making Him chuckle.

And He goes on. It goes on for quite a while. Until i’m ready to cum from His voice.

And then He says

beddie bye for the little girl. phone off, and go to sleep.

As. If.

Is it any wonder i dreamed about sex all. night. long? Dream after dream about sex. And woke up just as horny, if not hornier, than i went to bed.

He’s a sneaky Dom, my Master. All i can say is thank gawd tonight is Friday Night Fuck!

(yes, You’re reading this a day late…!)

Don’t Stop…

“ooooo, don’t stop, ” she moaned softly into his ear as he moved deeply and slowly inside her wetness.

“mmmmmm” he responded, as softly as she. If she had opened her eyes at that moment, she would have seen the devilish light gleam in his eyes as he looked down at his slave.

She came, and came again. Moans, dripping wet holes, thrashing bodies dancing across the soft cotton sheets. The gleam of fresh cum across her lips , the flash of teeth capturing swollen nipples,  holding and tugging.

Hands capturing wrists, chains jingling in the dark. Subdued. Submitting. Contained rapture.

The buzz of the hitachi. She moaned…”ooooooo…can’t …cum…anymore…”

He spoke softly in the dark…

“tonight I told you  the first wish you made was my command to follow. You  told me, remember? ”

She moaned. Looked up at him through glazed eyes as he held the wand against her straining mons….

she remembered.