you know it can be a struggle to write..and it builds up and builds up…but just like anything else, it won’t happen all by itself, so sometimes you put on your big girl panties–or in this case, remove them–and just do it. ~n~

Her fingers rubbed madly at her cunt as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her. He was fucking her, fists in her hair, her tits swinging wildly as he pounded her from behind. 

“Goddammm!” she moaned, feeling the wave growing stronger, rolling to that final peak. He was a vicious beast ramming himself into the woman who’s face was pressed hard against the window of the building across the wide street and 5 floor below where Jayne stood, rubbing.

“every *gasp* fucking *gaspmoan* niiiiiIIIIIeeeeeettttt…ohhhgawddddddd…”

Her hips bucked forward, humping her fist as her orgasm swelled, consuming her.

With a shiver, she fell to her knees, head pressed against the thick carpet. This was the 12th night that she’d been watching Him. Every night a different woman, making him, in her opinion, a professional Dom.

“Or a man-slut,” she murmured, pushing up from the carpet before her leaking cunt stained it. Knees shuddering, she padded to the shower.


“Mr. Kinsey is here to see you, Ms. Jamison.”

“Send him in, then go home, Gwen.”

With a grateful smile, her secretary, slipped back out. She heard Gwen’s voice guiding Kinsey to the door, the snap of her desk lamp, and the smooth roll of her desk drawer as she prepared to leave.

Thankfully he was the last interview of the day, then she could go home. This tiresome day had gone on and on. Now the sunset had faded and the lights of the city winked at her back through the wide windows lining the wall behind her. She kept the light on her desk turned low.  When he stepped into the room, she was glad that the light wasn’t stronger.

It was him.

“Ms. Jamison,” he proffered his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, at last.”

She took his hand, gave a firm handshake. Did his thumb caress the back of her hand or was she just imagining it?

Rising from her desk, she invited him towards the sitting area, choosing the seat that kept her face in shadow. She felt flushed, yet a rush of adrenaline made it difficult to appear relaxed. He spoke, but she was only paying scant attention. His lips moved, just as they did when he spoke to his girl of the day. His voice was sensual, no other word would fit. The tones, timbre, pitch all husky, sexy, deep. When his lips stopped moving, it took a moment to register.

“Oh..uh..” she stumbled, embarrassed to be caught being inattentive.

“I’m sorry, am I here at a bad time? I know it’s quite late.  I’m afraid that I pressured your secretary for an opportunity…”

She mentally shook herself.

“No…it’s…just a long day, as they all are lately.” She smiled briefly. “I do apologize.”

He rose, putting her on alert.

“Please, allow me?”

He was behind her, fingers resting lightly on her shoulders.

“Tension is the real killer these days. A quick light massage can help with that.”

The fingers dug deeper, making her moan.

“See?” His voice was a low and husky whisper. “You’re so tensed up. A little bit of work here and you’ll feel much better. This is why you should consider hiring me…an on-site massage therapist would be of great benefit to you, and the company.”

As his fingers wound around her shoulders, back up to her neck, she felt herself melting.

“I…” she cleared her throat as his fingers did magical things to her neck. “I can definitely see the advantages, Mr. Kinsey.”


“Jack, then.”

She wanted to moan when his fingers left her body. She tried to stop the rise of her nipples as he moved back to his chair, but his touch had stimulated even more than it had relaxed.

“If you’re willing, we can go a bit further. I think you need some real work on your back,” he said.

Was there a challenge in his eyes?

“Really?” she said, her voice cool.

He rose again, stepped forward, took her wrist. A quick tug pulled her to her feet. He gestured to the window.

“The whole city is out there. Look at them all, racing there and back.”

He pressed her palms to the window, her forehead to the cool glass. His fingers ran up and down her spine, a firm push that she felt to her toes. He tugged her blouse free from her skirt, then slid his hands up, gliding over her skin. Reaching her bra strap, he released it, murmuring.

“So much better, yes?”

She made a soft sound of acquiescence.

When he unzipped her skirt, cupped her ass, she moaned. One wide palm slid up her back again, slid under her to cup her tit, and pinch her nipple firmly. His other grabbed her hair, pulling her head back.

“I saw you watching,” he murmured. “I wonder who will be watching you?”



The Symbol pt 3~fini

part 2 here

she’d survived the outlining quite well, really. A few whimpers, a moan or two, but the piece was coming to life on the small of her back.

He’d tasted of her during the break. Tasted her sweet honey. He surely did love girl-honey. Nice of her Master to allow a taste-testing of the girl. He looked up at the camera in the corner, knowing that Himself was watching the process, every part of it.

The little feast he’d enjoyed had only served to whet his appetite for the main course. He wondered if she fully understood her Master’s gift. Smiling, he doubted it. But she would. She would.

He went back to work.


She tried not to flinch. The fill was painful, but not debilitating. And she was a pain slut, after all. Still, this was a very different pain from the thuddy feeling of the hairbrush, or the sharp snap of the cane.  She wondered about Mal, and his liking of pussy. She’d never met a guy who wanted to eat out a girl so much, nor had she had it happen all that often.

Her clit throbbed in sync with her heartbeat, in sync with the needle plying its pot of color on her back.  A rhythm developed…brrrrrr, brrrrrr, brrrr…wipe.

“Am i bleeding a lot?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“nope, don’t worry your head, slut. Everyone bleeds. Part of the job. We’re nearly there. Let me know if you need a break, okay?”

She murmured her assent, then shut up and let him work uninterrupted. It seemed like hours, but was likely only a little time before silence fell. His hand wiped, wiped again, then caressed her ass.

“Just lay here a bit and get your bearings. Got a few more things for you, yet.”

She wondered what he meant by that. She heard him move off, the hiss of water, the splashing of someone washing up. Her fucking pussy was throbbing as much as her new tat was.  She could feel the moisture trickling from her, and was pretty amazed at how wet she was.

She really, really was a pain slut.

“pretty wet back here”

Malique’s voice, from right behind her, between her spread thighs, startled her.

She heard the zip, and was surprised. He wouldn’t would he? Master had told her to be a good girl. The probing head of a very large dick slipped along her wet crevice.

She moaned. He moaned.

“You’re one hot, wet fuck, you know that?” And the thick press of his cockhead began insisting on entry. It felt like a fucking plum trying to enter her, and she moaned.

“It’s too big.”

“No such thing as too big for a lil whore like you.” He grunted as he pressed hard. She yelped as the head broached her lower lips, spearing into her well-lubed hole.

“Gawed!” he exclaimed, “that’s one fucking tight pussy!” He was glad he’d decided to fuck this hole. It was almost steamy with her hot juice, and tight as a clenched fist.

She could not move, stretched and  filled with his huge cock, and yet he pressed more deeply into her, thrusting his hips to gain more access. Her mouth opened in a soundless cry as he pumped, thrust, pumped, filling her.

She gained breath and gasped with the stretching pain of his cock. A moment of relief as he pulled back was short-lived, as he rammed his cock hard into her.

She yelped, tried to move, but his hands held her hips, pressing her down into the table. Her ankles, still bound, refused to close, and she whimpered as the engorged head of his cock tapped at her cervix.

Hands grasped her hair lifting her head. She opened her mouth to yelp again as a second cock slid between her lips. This monster was huge too. Her lips spread, her eyes watered. She could see nothing but a long, long shaft and a hairy belly miles away from her mouth.

“You work that sweet mouth good on my brothers cock, now, girl.”

Mal’s voice was strained as he continued to fuck her pussy hard from behind. She tried to relax her throat, knowing that this ‘brother’ was going to shove that entire dick into it.

There was no finesse to the motions, and so much attention was focused on catching a breath between the long deep thrusts in her mouth. Thrust, gag, thrust, pull back, gasp, repeat.

The tingle between her thighs was a surprise that became overwhelming and she cried out “cummmmming Sir” between gasps.

He slapped her hip, sharp.

“C’mon then, whore, cum all over my big black cock! Gimme every drop of your sweet honey.”

He thrust and pumped, through the first orgasm, through a second. She thought she would faint, she was so sensitive, so tender, but he kept thrusting into her pussy, even as the cock in her mouth began to twitch.

The silent ‘brother’ grunted as he came in her mouth, shooting thick wads of cum into her throat before pulling out and cumming on her face, her hair.

“Dirty fuckin’ whore,” he said as he wiped his cock on her cheek.

Her throat was raw, and Mal was still fucking her cunt. She grunted, moaned as yet another orgasm rippled through her pussy.

She felt hands on her head again, slipping over her cum-soaked, mussed hair.

She opened her eyes.

“Master?” she asked, her voice husky and raw.

“Master made those dark dreams come true for His good little whore.  Happy Birthday, slut,” He murmured, tickling her nose with his finger, as Mal grunted, and she felt the spurting of his penis deep inside.


She rolled over in bed, moaning a little at soreness in her pussy, her throat, and the dull throbbing in her ba…OMG! She leapt from the bed, ran to the bathroom. Turning her back to the full-length mirror, she examined the symbol at the top of her ass. A smile illuminated her as she felt fully complete at last. Her sore holes were  sore in service, fulfilling her, fulfilling Him. They were bound together in need, in lust, and love. She pirouetted, grinning at the reflection in the mirror. This,  this meant everything to her. She was finally, in her head, and in her body, complete.

Completely His.


Rut ro..

writing first-person today…but not from experience…this is all from my head…

He grabs a hank of hair and pulls me from the bed.

“Didn’t i tell you, slut?”

Half-awake, stunned, i am shocked into full alertness as He pulls me out of the warm bed to land in a disordered, naked heap at His feet.

Quickly i scramble to my knees. i try to scroll through what infraction i’ve done that has Him in this mood so early in the day.

“I specifically told you to get up and attend to your chores by 8:00 a.m. Do you have *any* idea what time it is, slut?”

Clearly, i do not, since i was asleep, but i wisely shut my mouth and shake my head slowly side to side, no.

“It’s 12:30.”

Dayam! i knew it was a bad idea to go back to bed this morning. Those damn room-darkening curtains had done their job, only too well.

“i’m sorry Sir.” My voice was soft. Husky with sleep, yet sincere. i was sorry. i was about to be much sorrier.

He pulls me to my feet. Stumbling in my fuddled state, he shoves my shoulder roughly pushing me downstairs.

His best friend and co-worker Alec is in the kitchen, sandwich raised to his open mouth. A mouth that remains wide open, as wide as his eyes as he sees me pushed, nekkid as a jay bird, through the kitchen and outside.

Bad girls have to go onto the chain in the backyard. Damn. i hate this punishment. Loathe it.

He stops at the back stoop, watching me for a moment before turning back to the kitchen.

“C’mon Alec, let me show you how this D/s thing works for us.”

I sit on my haunches while Master makes his way down to the yard. Bending he takes the chain from the overhead run, and hooks it to my collar. From the nail  at the top of the support post, he lifts the silver padlock.

oh. fuck.

i look up at him, imploring.

“Bad girl!” He grabs my collar and hooks the lock on. The key is in the kitchen, by the back door, well out of reach of the run. i can go back and forth for about 40 feet.

“Go Piss, badgirl. You know you need to…”

i burn with embarrassment, knowing that Master will watch this avidly, comment loudly. i go to the farthest distance i can, and shove my ass half under a bush, while staring at the ground before me. The relief from my full bladder is patently obvious on my face.

“Oh my, look at that badgirl piss. Such a bad little girl she is, pissing all down her leg like that. Look at that lil river running between her legs. Oops, going to get her little front paw wet…don’t you fucking move that ‘paw’ badgirl…”

i feel a rivulet of my own hot pee on my hand where it braces against the mulched bed of the garden. i am blushing deeply with shame and humiliation.

“come here badgirl,” and He fucking whistles at me, while tapping his thigh. Sometimes he gets way too carried away with this badgirl doggie thing, i think.

i glance at Alec, who is eating his sandwich but gazing with intense interest at the scene before him. Master takes his cock out and relieves himself on my upturned face. I close my eyes and whimper.

Master turns away as he puts his now-drained dick back into his pants, heading for the house. He stops for a moment and speaks quietly to Alec. Alec comes down the steps towards me, a speculative smile on his face.

Fuck no!

Yet, he does. He takes his cock out and proceeds to piss all over me. He hits my face, then hoses down my body. Honestly, has he peed at all today? There must be a fucking gallon of piss streaming from his shaft.

My eyes are closed, stinging from the first drops of Master’s piss. Thankfully none of Alec’s made it into my eyes. Hearing nothing, i open my eyes to see him still standing in front of me, a drop of piss hanging on the end.

“Lick it off,” he says, his voice husky.

Shuddering, i do.

Master returns, a bowl of clear water in his hand. He puts it in the shade, at the very end of the dog run.

“You’ll stay out here the rest of the day, badgirl, and I’ll consider letting you in when I get home tonight.”

They fall into conversation as they go back into the house together.  Just before they go inside, Master turns to me.

“Oh, and badgirl?”

i look but i know i may not speak. That is not a privilege for bad girls.

“Alec will be coming back here for dinner. We’ll bring takeout with us, and you can show him all about being a good girl, eh?”

i sit in the sun and feel the piss drying on my skin, the smell of it so strong when heated, the itchy feeling of it on my tender flesh.

And wonder what, exactly, He means by ‘show’.

The Window

Written with thanks to Curvaceous Dee, for her HNT photos were the inspiration behind this story….

 He was watching her again. He was standing at his window, telescope set, when she walked into her bedroom. He watched her peel off layer after layer of her day, until she was down to her silky maroon chemise and “gawd amighty thank you, ” he whispered reverently, panties to match. He watched her hair swing against her back, and he smiled when she opened her closet door. Inside that door was a full length mirror, so now he could see her from the front and back simultaneously. Heavenly!

He’d discovered this gem a month ago. She had been naked, standing at her bedroom window, gazing down at the people below. Those mindless drones, working under the spell of Master Blackburry, or Mistress Ifone.  The ones on autopilot in their vehicles, mouths flapping as they worked their cells, mindless to the beauty around them. Surrounded by tall buildings, one had to only to look up to see the sky, the clouds dancing above the skyscrapers, the city hawks and this, his Beauty, gazing. If they had only looked up just then, they would have seen her, her large breasts pressed against the window, nipples raised as they came in contact with the cool, smooth glass. She had stood there for awhile, a statue, lost in thought, and he had gazed, barely breathing, as he took in the view across from him. He had been so angry at Erica, who had, in her final fit of pique, knocked the telescope from it’s precise setting for optimum viewing of Saturn’s rings. 

She who had wanted more than a slave ring from him. Well, she was gone and the drama in his life tamed considerably. Sometimes sex could not make up for all the other bullshit people doled out. He loved being a Master, but the whole point in training was for the pet to stay trained. Erica, she was untrainable, like a puppy he’d gotten from a pet store in his youth. They never could teach that dog anything, and he laughed to think of the haughty Ms. Erica Devlin compared to that destructive and annoying pooch.  Now, he really had to thank her, for her parting shot had in fact been a gift in disguise.

His attention snapped back to the present. She was dancing!  His goddess, his treasure, was doing a slow and sinuous dance for  herself, looking at herself in her mirror. Her hands began to trace the outlines of her nipples, tease at the edge of lace on the chemise. Slowly, ever so slowly, she raised her finger to her mouth, sucked on it, then traced a path from throat to cleavage. One thin strap slid slowly down her shoulder, landing in a soft U at the crook of her elbow. She seemed not to notice, as she slid that wet finger beneath the lace and he watched the moving mound of it dance over the crest of her breast while her lovely round hips and ass traced a figure eight in the air.

His cock leaped to attention, his breath caught in his throat as he watched her dance and play. He watched her shrug the other strap down, and as she did, the chemise slid down her torso, catching briefly on upthrust nipples.

“Fall, fall, fall,” he chanted, leaning forward and praying for..”YES!”

The soft silken fabric pooled around her waist, exposing her large, soft globes to his view and her exploring hands. He watched her cupping those lovely tits, raising them like an offering to her mirror image. He watched as she pinched and twisted her nipples to hardness, saw her throw her head back and lick her lips, then bite her lower lip as lust built from her love play.

He freed his hard cock, rubbing and playing himself, imagined holding those globes together with  firm hands,  fucking deeply between them, tapping her chin and mouth with the head of his cock until he exploded and dripped white hot cum across her lovely face.  He looked at the pool of cum on the floor, smiled wryly. First time he’d shot off like that in a long time, he mused.

When he looked back through the telescope she was gone. He saw that the light had gone off, and although he imagined that she was even now laying on her bed and pleasuring herself to orgasm, he could see nothing of it. Sighing, he covered his telescope, and took himself off to his computer.


It was Thursday, and the crowds at the market were horrendous, thanks to a prediction of snow on the weekend.

“Heaven forbid someone runs out of Winder Bread,” she fumed, as yet another person banged into her as they rushed down the bread isle. Grabbing a box of  RingyDongs, she tossed it into her basket. She only needed a few things, so she had forgone using the carriage, thank goodness, as she would have had a difficult time manuevering through this crowd. She turned left at the endcap, when someone crashed right into her. She dropped her basket, he dropped his, and he grabbed her tightly as she nearly fell down.

A deep voice asked her if she was alright, all the while holding her tightly. Crushed to his big chest, all she noticed were the stars circling her head, and his musky masculine smell. Gathering her wits, she leaned back and looked up at him. Oh. My. She had seen him about in the neighborhood, oogled him, more precisely. She had never seen him this close before, certainly never close enough to smell the deep woodsy scent of him. He was an older man, tall, with lots of dark hair going silver at the temples.  His eyes were….piercing. Intense. She shivered, felt her pulse increase, her nipples harden.

“This was the guy,” she thought wildly, “that I maturbated to last night. My fantasy man!”   She stared at him, and he gazed back. He smiled, breaking the spell that had seemed to come over her.

“Are you okay, Miss?” he asked again, kindly.

“His voice, oh my, his voice was just as I imagined it would be,”  she thought as she shivered again. It was like warmed honey on toast. Sinful, rich. A shaft of lust drove from her nipples to her belly. Heat sizzled from his arms, still holding her securely, to her core. Ignoring the buzz of people around them, they were an island of silent communication.

She shook herself, eased away from his gentle hold, overwhelmed by what had come over her in those few seconds. Squatting to retrieve her items, he did the same, hands reaching for the same item, touching. Again the near sizzle of heat lept between them. Again he smiled. Twice more their hands met, until finally, he retrieved her fingers. Holding her hand, he invited her to coffee.

They checked out together. Sat in the coffee shop, knees touching, his hands playing with her fingers. He drew her out, made her smile, laugh out loud twice.  He gently felt her out about S & M, discovered a dark spark lived in her, told her he could help her grow and bloom that spark, that he knew what she was missing.

“What?” she asked him, bluntly. “What am I missing?”

“The stars, little one. You are missing the stars. To see beyond this world, and out to the stars, it’s best to use a  telescope, which I happen to have. ”

Smiling, arm and arm, they went out into the night.