As Old Willie S. once wrote, "If music be the food of love, play on". Pic by Russian photographer/artist Andrey Razoomovsky

Today we spoke about feminism.
He was here today.
Finally.
Saturday was inaugurated as Daddy's Day.
Shortly before he arrived, as I finished my preparations - clean sheet on the futon, implements arrayed on the large, high, pale wood coffee table that had been moved in front of the old television - I realized I was nervous. We hadn't seen each other since shortly after New Year's. That first Tuesday of the new year. He didn't visit that Saturday four days later, and the following weekend I was out of town. The Saturdays thereafter were lost first to my cold and then to my ill-advised but very successful appointment with the house call vet. Which made it what? Four and a half weeks since we'd last seen each other? Since we'd ...

"On the bed and straddle me."
This is what He said as I kneel next to the bed awaiting permission to enter.  I hand Him the paddle brush and straddle His legs ass up in the air.  He starts to paddle my ass with both the bristled side and the hard paddle side.  He pays close attention to my left ass cheek for some reason.  He switches from the brush to His hand.  He can sure make His hand hurt.  It must of been that my ass was good and warm because it felt more like a fist punching it then an open hand slap.  He runs His fingers up and down my pussy lips.  Then takes the handle of the brush and pushes it into my pussy.  He starts fucking my pussy.
"You are such a slut."
This is what He ...

"I win," Jessica said, pleased with herself.
She was kneeling on the soft, beige carpet at the foot of a rather large hotel bed. Tied up, with her ankles attached to her wrists. Blindfolded.
At this moment she was under a mistaken impression. Taking advantage of the blindfold, I had stuck my cock in her mouth, instructing her to suck vigorously. I followed this with a lengthy simulation of masturbation right in front of her face, while she knelt, tied and very frustrated that I preferred wanking to the pleasures of her cunt.
It bears mentioning that she was wearing a curious item of fetishwear. A rubber knickers/girdle combination that hugged her curves in a most pleasing way, but closed off all access. The noise it made when I ...

Yes, we made it safely to Where-the Event-Is.  And Sir said i was a good driver, and not particularly like a pace car driver.  {So there, ‘Nilla.} Yes, we’re having fun. It is trickier using a computer with leather, fur-lined cuffs on than you might think.  The thickness is disconcerting, and the loose end of the strap gets in the way.  But having been required to sleep in them, i’m pretty sure i’m not supposed to jump out of bed and take them off. i’m writing this from the social area, along with a few other early risers ~ although much later than my usual blogging time. Last night is a blur of images and sensations… Rope.  Wrapped around my chest, between my legs, raising my breasts, pressing against me, ...

‘Will it hurt?’ she asks.
‘Yes.’
‘A lot?’
‘Yes.’
‘Too much?’
‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On who decides when to stop.’
‘It won’t be me?’
‘I fear not.’
‘What if I really can’t bear it?’
‘Then you will have to make a choice.’
‘Between what?’
‘Between your desire to please me and your own comfort.’
‘That’s a hard choice.’
‘Those are the only choices worth making.’
‘Easy for you to say.’
‘Very.’
She thinks.
‘Are you ready?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ she says after a while. ‘But will you take care of me?’
‘Don’t I always?’
‘I’m scared.’
‘You should ...

For some weeks now I have been following a Dutch sex store on twitter. They are in the process of promoting themselves on twitter and obviously looking for more followers. Their marketing strategy is to raffle a sex toy when they reach a certain number of followers. I think I started following them just before they had a 100 followers. Whenever I saw a tweet from them asking for followers and

Some of what “we” are dealing with these days touches on trust -- not all of it, but some.  I’ve written some about trust over the years.  I don’t know many submissive types who have not done that.  Long ago, at The Swan’s Heart blog, I asked:Is trust something that is felt, or something that is done? Is it passive, or active?   A given, or a choice?I am interested in trust as a practice one engages in moreso than I am in something that can be broken or damaged (as we are inclined to speak of trust). I don't worry that someone might break my "meditation" practice for instance. I want to know if I could get skilled enough in my practice of trust, that it would be that solid...
Now, that we are come to the place ...

We're dealing with more life changes. New job, car broken down, another car wrecked, and still dealing with postpartum period and anxiety related to that. Whew!
With all this going on, I don't have much time to blog. We don't have much time to have D/s or BDSM time, either.
Things are going well, though. We both pull our weight, so there is little D/s needed. Although it makes me less happy than having him be in charge, we just share the weight and the burden of our lives and it works well. I work, he works, we take care of the baby, we get dinner made, we clean, we cook, we repeat the process. I'll say that he does pick up more of the slack around the house, cooking and cleaning and doing dishes, so that I can spend our evenings with the ...

TGIF! It's Friday and date night tonight! Yah! Friday has become my favorite day of the week now. I'm really excited! :)
I have been wanting to blog the last few days but keep getting distracted. lol. Tumblr is sooooo addictive! I've gone on there looking at sexy pictures and two hours goes by without knowing it.
Twitter is my other addiction. I really enjoy chatting with people on there. I've got a group called "coffeefriends" who I chat with while drinking my morning cup of coffee. I really like it but it can be addictive spending the whole day tweeting.
Date night tonight is dinner and a movie. I'm not sure where we are going for dinner. Anakin makes that decision and I usually find out when we get there. He has told me which movie ...

The Headmaster, Mr Pears, and the Grammar teacher, Mr Saunders came out onto the quad, with Tamara Saddler between them. The crowd became silent, as they marched up to the pole. Public punishments were formal events, and the teachers didn't waste any time. The Headmaster announced the crime and the punishment. Mr Saunders produced the cane. The Headmaster signalled to Miss Saddler to prepare.

This is the point where I tell you something strange. It gets complicated from now on in, here be dragons, I'm afraid. What you have to bear in mind as you read through this is quite how much history is involved. This is the culmination of a relationship that has been on and off for over twelve years. It spans my first enjoyable sexual encounter to the present day. It's the back story to my sexual evolution, and in a way to my life.
Ten and I are having dinner on our second day in Berlin. I decided that this would be a perfect point to have that usually dreaded "relationship conversation". Except I wasn't dreading it. I was quite looking forward to it, to talking over dinner about how we can make this work and bring in to land the circling ...

If V has an "ass of steel", then for sure she has boobs like ripe peaches - easily bruised. This picture (of just a small portion of the bruise) was taken two weeks after that squeeze was inflicted and the bruising was just finally starting to fade. I know that makes me sound like a ham-fisted ogre, but seriously, I didn't squeeze that hard!




Join us with your NPotW!

She swore she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, but she found herself on the verge. He was spanking her harder than he ever had before. His hand must have been stinging pretty bad by now, but he showed no sign of slowing down.
"I will see your tears, little girl. One way or another, I will see you cry for Daddy.", He told her sternly, never breaking his strokes upon her ass.
She was fighting the tears back as they burned in the corners of her eyes. Her round upturned ass was on fire, but so was her cunt. She hated to admit it to herself, but the pain in her ass as she was whipped also set a fire in her loins. She could feel her juices oozing from her swollen cunt, and she hoped he couldn't feel it soaking his pants.

[Continued...]

Our human capacity to create beauty is astonishing.  We slog daily through the mire of work and the muck of our own grey thoughts, weighted by our obligations, fears and an ultimate uncertainty of purpose.  Then a display of such astonishing power and sensuality comes along and reminds us that no matter how bent our backs, life is beautiful, and our eyes overflow from relief.

Seven and I met for a drink and he was unaware he faced some invisible barriers: I was still caught in an evolving and unsolved work problem while wondering what on earth to write in response to the Country Boy’s messages. When I’d shifted my mental baggage aside to focus on Seven, I found a lot in his favour. He’s in his mid-forties, attractive enough, appears in control of his life, lives locally, is free to meet when I usually am, can hold a conversation and seems genuine in looking for someone to see occasionally. So, why was I glad he was taking off on holiday the next day so I’d have time to think about seeing him again? I thought I was distracted by the other events of the day so I ended our meeting positively and said we’d catch ...

“Your cock?” One eyebrow and the corner of her mouth flipped up, the lopsided, playfully cruel face he loved. “You know what I mean.” He sighed and his shoulders rolled from side to side in a series of gentle shrugs, an eye roll he had gotten into the habit of while wearing the hood, but which sometimes came out in other situations. “The most annoying part of chastity play is getting the possessive right. And noun-pronoun agreement.” She pushed her fingertips into his chest, feeling them sink slightly before stopping, shoving him back against the wall. “Then let me help you remember.” He could feel her hot, wet breath against his skin as she spat out words. “She pulled down his pants exposing ...

Kitten and her Master were driving around on the highway one Sunday afternoon, just enjoying the weather and the view from the road. She sat in the passenger seat, her pale legs showing from beneath her short black skirt. His hand rested upon her bare thigh. His fingers started to move, inching up towards her skirt line, inching up under her skirt fabric, rubbing up against her satin panties. She twitched in response to his touch.  He rubbed back and forth and her hand lingered over to his lap. Her fingers started to move the zipper on his pants, opening it up, releasing his cock. Her hand holding his hard phallus, warm in her palm. She moved her hand up and down as he moved his hand back and forth. Their movements moving in sync to the rhythm of ...

The blog Au carrefour étrange has a set of images from a 1922 French book of flagellation erotica. Aimé Van Rod. Fantastic visits to the country of the whip. Illustrated with engravings and numerous illustrations by G. Topfer. Paris: Librairie artistic Paris assembled Edition, (1922). Here's a tasty little romance of flogging was so good as to write the prolific Aime Van Rod. But more than just an erotic novel fetishistic, sadomasochistic, it is a fantasy novel! Indeed, the book begins with the visit of Asmodeus, the Devil on Two Sticks, a rich banker Haltmayer, who, drawing on his pipe, was daydreaming of the buttocks of sufragettes whipping. The devil, perceiving these sweet thoughts, arrives through the window at the good Haltmayer and ...

This is a post that will reveal my relative newbie status in femdom.  Although I have been enjoying my life as a Mistress for the last couple of years, my adult years leading up to that time were sheltered when it came to kink.  I never watched porn as an adult and my illicit reading was limited to Anne Rice (I still love her!).  I was open to playing kinky games, but my experience with the outside world of kink was limited at best.
Over the last couple of years my horizons have certainly broadened.  I regularly read kinky sites, I play with strap-ons, I visit adult stores, and I try to find porn that interests me.  Last year, I added "The Story of O" to my netflix streaming queue.  I didn't know much about the ...

Daddy wants to fuck. Now - Right. Fucking. Now.
You know my whims and wants. You knows my brutality when Lust seizes me. I love how you shudder and cringe when you know what's coming. We both know it makes your cunt wet.Very fucking wet.
I jerk you where I want you, where you love to be - on your knees. I hold your pretty little head in my hands as I diesel through your lips and mouth into that cock starved throat. I face fuck you with impunity, slam fucking you until your damn head almost comes off. I revel in your reddened and tear lined face, streaked with mascara.
I pull from your wet sucking mouth and half sling you over the bed. I jerk your legs apart and stab into your ready and willing cunt with all the force and ...

In this gift-giving season, I often feel like the Little Drummer Boy— too poor to buy a respectable present for the newborn King. Or, in my case, for my wife Queen.
I dream of extravagant romantic Christmas gifts for her. Like on the TV commercial with the new Lexus parked in the driveway wrapped in a red satin bow.
We have a friend who, on special occasions, has whisked his bride off to London for a theatrical opening, or to Paris for just a romantic weekend getaway.
What a rush that must be, for knight and queen! Like Sir Francis Drake returning from a profitable voyage and laying his treasure at the slippered foot of Queen Bess.
Romantic fantasyland, perhaps. But all of contemporary husbands have these opportunities in ...

You’d think that given that kinky people are universally more enlightened about sexuality than the general population, nobody would have to explain this one. But from recent discussions I’ve seen go by online, it appears that we can throw that little “superior enlightenment” theory out the window (no big surprise there), and that a post laying out the basics of this is in order. I will, for the curious, attempt to shoot down a few of the most common responses I’ve seen to women who’ve posted on similar topics, by means of a footnote at the end of this post. So if you are about to say “You’re just a humourless feminist,” “You’re missing the point,” “You’re just a man-hating lesbian,” or “You’re just ...

i felt exposed.  And nervous.  And so fucking excited. i could feel my heart pounding against the smooth wood of the table.  My breasts were starting to ache from being pressed down under my weight.  My fingers felt stiff  from pulling my cheeks apart for so long. i had no idea what time He’d open the door behind me.  He just ordered me to be waiting in this position (standing bent over the table in nothing but heels with my cheeks parted wide) with my hole ready for His use.  As i waited my mind raced.  Would He take it as soon as He walked in?  What if the maid walked in?  Had i used enough lube?  Would it hurt as much as it had the last time?  Would He… My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening.  i ...

2011 was my hottest year yet. Hear is what I learned over the past twelve very hot months:I enjoy watersports. A lot.I have a shy bladder.Having a hot guy beg me to pee on him helps my shy bladder.If a woman promises me she won't fuck a man in my life, I should just assume that she will.While there is a growing and pervasive feeling in the kink community that male subs are devalued, my appreciation for them has grown.When I'm with the right guy I can orgasm from a bite, breath, even from a look and a nod.I love being fisted and I'm not afraid to say it.I thought I wouldn't like using a gag because I enjoy a subs reactions so much but as it turns out, gags are SO much fun.I love making someone choke on cock. It doesn't matter if I'm pushing a hot ...