desire, punishment, pleasure

I am late and terribly excited about seeing her again. I am so eager to get her upstairs to my apartment where I can touch her, feel her hands on my body and her lips on mine. I want to devour her right now, drown in her.

She is sitting on the couch in the lobby and I light when I see her. I apologize for being late but can see she needs more than that. I try to explain and tell her that I didn’t even get all my errands done. She is having none of my weary explanations. She wants to know that it won’t happen again. She is hurt. Can’t she see that she is who I’ve been anxious to see ALL day?

I am getting snarky in my answers as I lay on the floor like a tease while she sits on my couch with that brooding face.

I tell her that even Laura missed her ballet class because the game went so long. That is enough. She comes at me on the floor. Holding me down. I feel her hand slap me and then she sits back on the couch.

My arm is hurt from the force that she used to hold me down. I pick up my glasses which were sent flying from my face and get up and tell her that I’m sorry and to calm down. I need her to be able to calm herself. I want her to so that she can direct her anger in a more controlled way. I want her hands on me. Controlled. The slap shocked me but if she could tell me to bend over now and spank me until she felt her anger leave her, I would be putty after that. I can’t bring myself to tell her. I’m afraid.

She wants to get out and have a date with me. Let’s go to a movie. I look up the times and head out. We go for WHIP IT. Perhaps that will suit us with our feelings in such high gear right now. The on-line movie times are wrong. Not at this theater at 7:30. Let’s find another one. Park Slope. It works. I get the tix and popcorn and we settle in. We banter. The movie is fun and sexy. I fall into her. Lean on her shoulder and hold her arm. When the lights come up, she tells me she is hungry and maybe it’s the food fight scene but she wants a cheeseburger. "What kind I ask?" The greasy slider kind or the big beefy juicy kind with pink juice running down your arms? She wants the MEAT. I take her to this burger joint I love called Bonnie’s Grill and we wait for stools at the counter and both order cheeseburgers even though I’m not really hungry. I will gladly eat it now and regret later. She can't finish hers but I am determined to eat all of mine and I do. I feel so full. My belly. My heart.

My belly is too full to do all the nasty things I want to do. I suggest we just lie down and let things settle. She sits on the couch, I put on music and she strokes my head and we talk a bit but I am just at ease now and want to curl up in her arms.

I make the bed up and get ready. Slip into a camisole. I want to wake up with her looking at me with hungry eyes.

I wake through the night, touching, kissing and feeling full. I touch her softly and she touches me. It must be early morning now and I feel her hand on my ass, slowly moving in circles. I am grinding the mattress now and she begins tapping my
cheeks with the palm of her hand so softly you would not know the suggestion of a spanking if you weren’t looking for it, but I was looking for it. I wanted it. Needed it. Had been craving it all night. The tap tap gets a bit stronger but still so sensual, so soft that it is nothing but erotic, teasing. My sex moistens so much I can feel the sheet now damp beneath me. She lifts her hand slightly higher and slaps me just that much harder but still not enough to raise the colour from my cheeks. I must start groaning because now I hear the smack and want more intensity and I am rewarded as I feel the palm of her hand get hotter. I want to
touch myself but refrain because I know this is her show. The intensity gathers but she never raises her hand that high or hits me so hard that my breath is taken. It is sensual enough to be sweet and stern enough for me to know my place.

She reaches between my legs touches my clit with the tips of her fingers and I am awash in her hand. Her fingers fly across my lips and clit faster and faster and I pant and moan and I raise my ass higher and writhe and squirm. She is on top. She has control. She tells me to cum for her and I think of nothing but her hand on
me, her fingers making me swell and splosh until I feel that tightening in my center, my legs numb, the blood rush to my sex and my brain releases all thought and I cry out loud. I am spent. I so want to please her now with all my heart. I touch her slowly. She is relaxed and proud of pleasing her girl. She should be
deeply rewarded many times over. I touch her nipples and kiss her softly. Her sex is beyond damp. It is almost throbbing and I know if she stays relaxed in this moment, she will cum in my hand easily. I whisper to her how wonderful her touch is while I caress her sex, circling the hole and fingering her knob until I feel it completely swell and she makes the most subtle of groans to tell me that this is right. I whisper how much I need her discipline and her touch, how completely hard I get in her hands. I want her to cum because she deserves this pleasure and I want to give it, whenever she asks me for it, whenever she wants to give it to me.

dueling dreams

I look at the pictures and recall our more intimate moments. I recall the cane splintering on my backside. I recall binding your hands and feet and your disappointment every time I untied you.

I see my pants around my ankles, bending over the saddle at the sex club, my hands in cuffs and J's belt sending my brain running and my high begins. You, making me your boi bitch in the club, with my boy shorts stuffed in my mouth, my ankles bound and my legs hoisted and tied to the pipes above us, your hands punishing me until I frank.

J in the shower, taking me from behind, and I'm holding onto the bar so that I don't fall and her arm is wrapped tight around my waist, holding me and with her other hand, she opens my vulva, grabs my clit and I am cumming.

J bound to my frame, spread eagle, and her sex is pouty and pretty. She strains against the ropes, sending her silent signal to tighten them. Her full honey colored breasts shine and the nipple rings beckon me to play. I ride her vulva with mine and we kiss. I touch her entire body, stopping at each place that calls me to fuck. I ride her hips, and suck her lips and fill her ass deeply and she calls for more. Thoughts of big red fill me suddenly and I see you pushing him in my ass in the mirror.

I put on my corset today and thought about our shopping excursion that hot day in July. Then I see the image of it torn up in the garbage and it hits me. I put on my leather vest and breathe deeply.

new skin new touch

I think of you, your soft skin under my touch. I think of your hands on my sex, the throbbing rising and rising. I want your mouth on mine. I want to taste your skin. I want you in my hands, pleasuring you.

Take me harder. Fill me. Every hole. Hold me down and make me cum.

The blindfold slips on. I taste your fingers as you feed me. I want to suckle. Give me your breast, your neck, your lips. My tongue and lips teasing the sweetness from your skin.

Pull my body closer. Lift my ass up and hold my cunt in your hands. Make me squirm. "Hold still," you say and my clit is in the tips of your fingers and I swell.

I want to be fucked deeply, filled with your whole hand while your mouth suppresses my cries, sighs, moans, deep mewing.

I want to push my sex into yours and let my vulva swallow yours.

I want to hear your soft moans and feel the swell of your sex as my mouth holds your ear, whispering what a pretty girl you are.

I want to listen later for the heart beating hard and then softer until the purr of sleep overtakes you.

caning virgin

You tell me you've never done this before. Yet when I turn my head to look at you, I see you wielding the cold metal tip of the cane, using it to position me where you want me, to turn around and keep my ass up toward your hands. I feel taken and yet still in control.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. It gets faster and then the force of the cane bears down on my cheeks. It stings and thuds all at once and I flinch lowering my ass down and squeezing my buttocks inward, and then I feel a more forceful stroke and I almost frank but you let me recover and I lift my ass back up toward you.

You prepare me for more and stroke my back with the tip of the cane. You switch instruments and I feel the brush of your mini whip/crop. The fronds of leather on my back being slowly drawn down the length of me are enough to make my sex completely wet. The sting of the whip awakens me. My head is here, now. Nothing else enters. I breathe in the whipping. You stop momentarily and then I feel it again, the tap, tap, tap and the sound is pushing my edges. I hold my position and brace for the next strokes of the stiff cane and I am rewarded in my knowledge.

whore

She calls me at work. I love having sex at work. We chit chat. She tells me she has work to do. "You are going to hang up and look at my naughty blog and masturbate," I say. I am wet. I suggest I close the door.

She knows what I want to hear. Her kneeling between my legs. Under my desk. Licking my pussy. My clit under her tongue. Up on my desk, legs up, being fucked by her. My tits bouncing out of my white shirt, my pink nipples taut. I am so loud. The boss unlocks the door and steps in. He closes the door. Aroused. I hear him unzip and then feel the tip of his cock on my lips. I lean my head back and feel his balls on my tongue. My pussy is swollen and I can hear that sound, sssslpp, sssslpp, ssslpp. She hits my spots and I am bucking. She pushes my hips down and plays with my nipples. His cock enters my mouth and I suck. He pushes and I gag slightly and he now he fucks my mouth slow while she pushes faster, harder. I see her nipples tighten and know she will cum soon. The cock in my mouth swells. I want her pussy. I gasp and that sound brings her closer. The egg in her vulva vibrates. She tells me that I am a whore and I suck hard now on that cock to show her that she is right. His cum shoots in my throat and fills my mouth and she can see it on my lips. She grabs my clit and I am throbbing, she fingers my asshole and feels me tighten and pulse. She cums hard now, rocking me and I want her in my mouth to lick her cum.

I want to please her. Whore, girl, domina, slut, lover. She brings me bliss.

play parties....to sex or not to sex

ok, I get enjoying bdsm without sex because it's fun, it's edgy, it serves a variety of needs for each of us, and one of mine is carthartic emotional release but for whatever reason, playing at a party gets me charged up and increases my sexual desire.

Recently, I played at several parties with two very different partners. One, does not want to mix the sex with our scenes. One, can't even imagine being bound without being fucked at some point.

I am not a sadist. I like to top, especially when practicing bondage but it's not the most natural state of my being. I wouldn't exactly call myself a bottom either but I do find myself in bottom head space if I find the right partner, and yes, I confess, it more than satisfies. Yet what I've found as a top is that I like to inflict a good measure of both painful sensations and sensual touching. I like seeing a young woman's skin raised with welts and hear her moans and whimpers. I like to see her hand raised to signal that I need to ease up. I more than like it. It makes me wet and hard. In the latest play session I had, I wanted to fuck as soon as I saw the markings of the cane start to raise on her ass. I had to stop the beating before it got really going and my bottom was disappointed. I don't like to disappoint. That is truly my basic desire...I want to be the cream in her coffee, the top of the rock. Does that make me a service top? Does it make more of a bottom?

My favorite play partner can't play any more. She is in a relationship now and she thinks it would be "cheating" to play now. When I suggested that I was sad and missed our bondage sessions, seeing the supple white rope against her skin, and that it didn't have to end in fucking, she said, "I just don't think that would work for me. I wouldn't be able to resist the urge to fuck." I understand. I don't think I disappointed her much but now I am the one who finds herself wanting more.

imagination/desire

Fantasy/story:

The Boi

The canes and belts were laid out on the bar along side the bottles of wine. The hallway was lit with rows and rows of candles.

The boi was called for and he took his mistress’s jacket, and hung it with care. He poured her a glass of wine. He wore the whitest of briefs, tight across his ass. Miss R liked the boi’s breasts available and so he wore the flimsiest of undershirts which could be ripped from his body easily.

Miss R sat down and lifted her feet. Her boi, G, knelt quickly and unzipped her boots and took them off his mistress’s feet gently, caressing them as he did so.
“Thank you, please leave me for a moment.” Miss R relaxed, closing her eyes and resting her feet on the ottoman. She picked up a magazine and then shouted to the boi, “Come here.” She showed her boi an article about young successful women who had slave boys and girls. Everyone was of legal age but the head of the house had servants who performed various tasks including if she wanted, sexual favors. Miss R said that she might enjoy that type of arrangement. “Do you have objections boi?” “I will take them into consideration but can and will do as I wish.”

“Your pleasure Miss R is my objective,” he responded.

“Draw me a bath and hang up my clothes.” Miss R drank back the last of the wine in her glass and put it down. “You can bring me another glass when the bath is ready.”

Boi G started the bath and followed his mistress into the bedroom and took Miss R’s clothes from her as she undressed. Her skin, honey gold, smooth, lit up the room. The boi’s eyes appreciate her beauty, the high arch of her hips and ass, the curve of her breast, the dark nipple, her pretty chin, graceful neck, the sheer length of her back and legs.

Miss R walked to the bath and closed the door. She had every confidence that the temperature was perfect and that her wine would be brought after she settled in. Her boi adored her and wanted to please her.

G poured another glass of the pinot and brought it to Miss R, knocking before entering. Miss R smiled, her body relaxed, “Thank you sweet girl.” The boi enjoyed this feminization of his psyche. Miss R grabbed a nipple and pulled the boi toward her to kiss the boi’s lips. “Ok, you can go now.”

The boi went back to the kitchen and finished preparing the repast for the evening.
Dublin cheddar, fresh goat cheese, crusty oaty bread and slices of pear, apple, and strawberries as well as olives, seared scallops, and thin slices of rare red beef with horseradish cream. He laid it out on a large platter to please her eye and palate, contrasting color while keeping strong flavors apart to mix salty and sweet, tart and creamy.

Miss R loved this time in her bath, relaxing, masturbating. She would deal with the boi later during the week. The tension of the week would be played out with the canes and belts on the boi’s body increasing their sexual pleasure of each other. Now, however, he would have to be content with serving her and pleasuring her.

Miss R came out of the bath with her head wrapped and her robe on. She laid back on the chaise. G, came out of the kitchen with the platter and brought the bottle of wine. “Would you care for anything else Miss R?”

“No. Please sit with me.” She talked about her day and ownership of her new creative designs. It was important to her and the boi listened carefully to glean how she felt and hone in on her desires for achievement. Miss R was very accomplished and loved to be stroked for those things. It was important to be her champion.

“Would like to watch a movie or something Miss R,” the boi asked. “We have a couple of selections to choose from, “Before Night Falls” with Javier Badem or “Water,” the Chinese film.

“Water.”

The boi took the disc and set up the system to play. Miss R patted the couch next to her for the boi to come sit close. She took the towel off her head and reached for her comb, handing it to the boi. “Please comb it out carefully.”

He knew to start slowly at the bottom and move up, holding the top his mistress’s head. Her hair was silky, shiny, fragrant. The comb moved through her hair easily now.
“Thank you,” was all that was said when she wanted him to stop.

The movie was about an orphaned aristocrat is sent to a temple to live and encounters a temple prostitute whom she starts to emulate. Miss R loved these types of movies and enjoyed sharing them but only after the movie was over. She would pause once in a while to comment but mostly sat engrossed, entranced, taken away to another place.
She leaned into the boi, to feel his body and once relaxed, would open her legs to reveal her sex, thick and beckoning with a strip of dark hair leading to the center of her sex.
The boi touched her slowly on her thighs, barely moving his hand, fingers pressed easily not too heavy, not too light. She would hold his hand when the touch was too much sensation or push his fingers inside if she wanted more.

The best times for the boi were those moments when their eyes would meet and for a minute the world would stop and their lips would meet and a long slow kiss would seem like forever. They would go back to the movie but that moment was what he longed for every time.

At bedtime, the boi turned down the bed and Miss R would allow him the pleasure of sleeping there most nights. At times, he would just bend down, take the caning and be sent off. Miss R’s fingers would take her own pleasure, her shiny nails disappearing into her sex and her body shuddering while the boi listened intently for her orgasm but knew he couldn’t hear it but saw it in his mind as his own hands brought his climax.
Miss R planned an outing for the boi. She wanted to go shopping. The boi dressed, grabbed his wallet and went to get the car. He would wait outside for his mistress by the door.

They drove out to New Jersey with the windows down. They enjoyed these times together. Miss R would file her nails and chat about work or the movies. They talked about books and talked about their workouts. They talked about friends and going to the beach.

Miss R wanted shoes, a jacket and some new skirts. She also browsed through the lingerie. Slink adorned her well. She looked exquisite in the black corset the boi had purchased. The way she looked with the cane in her hand when she had it on was imposing. Her dominant nature shone through.