After angsting over night about my recently purchased sparkly jeans, I decided to take one pair back and get a pair of plain black ones instead. But my shopping didn’t end there. I also purchased a red trench coat that I’ve been lusting after for two years, a pair of ballet flats that I’ve been lusting over since last year and a new pair of ankle boots. I was actually intending to get my ankle boots re-soled, but when I took them in, the guy said they were too far gone: (Apparently having a hole that you can poke your finger into is not a good thing…) Damn, they are the comfiest shoes I’ve ever owned! I haven’t thrown them out yet though, I feel like giving them some sort of memorial because they were such ...

Seriously. Sundays are great because I don’t have to go into work and relax, but they also suck because I know I have to work the next day. That’s the problem with weekends. Friday nights I’m tired (as in ready to pass the hell out kind of tired) by like 11:30pm – midnight, so it’s not really that far from my normal “bedtime”. Then there is Saturday which is wonderful. But then Sunday comes around and you know that you have to try and get yourself back into a routine so your Monday doesn’t suck so badly. But of course, it’s 10pm right now and I’m not even remotely tired. Add to that the fact that although the clock will be saying 6:25am when my alarm goes off, my body will be thinking its ...

I glared at him and he glared right back. I struggled to sit up, the man holding my wrist hadn't let go of it yet. "Daegon, right?"
"You're not naked." He finally noticed, looking startled. Then his eyes darkened, becoming unreadable.
I shrugged at him. He stared me in the eyes until I finally dropped his gaze, I didn't know if I had enough human in me to be enthralled, but I wasn't willing to take the chance.
"I go willingly with you; you don't need to force me. But, I don't want them to touch me." I told him, and then continued to glare at the man that hadn't let go of my wrist yet.
"You'd go willingly?" The man holding my wrist looked down at me confused, like this concept had never been one he'd have considered or thought ...

Yesterday was a horrible day for me. I wound up having a very big fight with Darth Vader which was one of the worst we have had in a very long time. We don't fight very often and this one left me in tears and feeling very upset. It had been building up during the day as I had worked hard in getting ready for Skywalker's birthday party which is today. We did carpet cleaning and got our place ready for it but there was a lot of stress happening at the same time. My father-in-law went back into the hospital with blood clots and complications from his surgery. Last week was Spring break and I was not able to get as much done as I had hoped for the party. There has been a lot of family stress happening and lead up to the horrible fight with Master ...

Lately I’ve spent a fair bit of time thinking about triads. How they work, what happens when they don’t, what the possible pitfalls are, how to avoid them. It seems as though the triad is one of the most talked-about and desired forms of poly, and yet there’s very little written specifically about triad dynamics. Cultural fantasies about threesomes abound, but that’s by no means the same thing; and what little non-fiction I’ve found on the topic is generally a) all about the sex (natch – because the cultural fantasies are about threesomes, not triads – why bother relating to people when you can just use them as real live sex toys?) and b) based on a heterosexual, heteronormative, heterosexist and remarkably ...

My heart thrums as a bass drum.
With each frenzied inhalation the pillowcase over my head is drawn through parted lips. The blindness is disorienting; unfamiliar. I like to see...to prepare for what is coming; though now I am completely helpless. At your waning mercy. The notion sets me spinning.
I twist my head against the rug to try and wiggle free from the cloth encasement. The strap tied round my neck holds it steady despite my thrashing. My hands tied behind and beneath me burn as I tug against unyielding rope.
The braided leather whips crack down upon my breasts; my tummy; my thighs ... unannounced and unforgiving. Your canvas belt; the blunt, cold buckle dealing brutal blows on untanned and tender flesh. Intermittent ...

I did tremble as I awaited my Master's visit the day after he threatened to leave me "naked, shaken and crying on the floor." Not so much that night, but definitely the next morning. Something inside me was trembling the whole morning as I sat at my desk, trying to work, yearning to see him, yearning to serve him, but terrified of what he would subject me to.
The beast was rampant. Growing, growling, swelling, wresting control from the my Master's more deliberate sadistic nature. And I was afraid not so much of the pain itself, but of what it might do to my emotional state. I've had the occasional bad trips, receding afterwards into myself, taking days to come back, and prompting him to rethink his plans for me.
As I've said before, I get ...

... and several hours a day...
Southern nightsHave you ever felt a southern night?Free as a breezeNot to mention the treesWhistling tunes that you know and love so
Southern nightsJust as good even when you've closed your eyes...
*conning smiles*

I received an email from a reader today.  Apparently, I've had correspondence with this person before, and it seems he may have run afoul of my tendency to admonish people who approach me in ways that I find too familiar or offensive at some level.  I honestly don't remember the exchange that he refers to, but however that went, his question today seems reasonable and even a bit intriguing (and besides that, some have declared this to be question month, so here you go):
Interesting.  Hmmmm...
Hello Swan,
...I emailed you ...a few questions about your lifestyle some time ago, and you were a bit put off... I'm just a guy that reads and enjoys your blog...You answered some of my questions in a later blog post, which I ...

Whenever you talk about a world where men hold women as slaves, a fantasy world that is suitably ancient and exotic, someone will tell you it is Gorean. I find this a bit annoying. I will immediately apologise to the one (see the comments on my last entry) who triggered this, this time. I am not having a go at you, this happens all the time. So, am I inspired by John Lange, aka John Norman, and

I suspended my online account; before hitting the ‘close’ button I saw a message from one of the remaining men I was interested in but I was too battle weary to respond and I had already given him my e-mail address. He had the foresight from our previous messages to guess correctly that I was considering temporary retirement and my account shutdown wasn’t because of him. I received an e-mail and we met for a drink a few nights later. I didn’t have a good read on him because his profile photos weren’t good quality and our communication had been brief, but his e-mails mentioned enough about his interests and background to pique my curiosity and prop my ailing sense of hope. I nominated a hotel to meet for a drink and he ...

Want to join in the HNT sexy fun? Check out the guidelines at Osbasso’s place!

Real life is kicking my ass lately, but I will try to get a story up each week. Might be a little late, or not the greatest, but I’ll try to keep up. So how are you all doing?

i have come to the unexpected realization that moving to our new home has severely hampered my ability to spend time naked. You would think I would have taken that simple freedom into consideration, yet somehow it never occurred to me that privacy would be all but eliminated from my home life. I miss nudity!

“Come here.” “Why?” ” Because I want to fuck you until I feel something break.” “Really?” “Yes.” “Is that all?” “Yes.  For now.” Filed under: Agapē

This blog will be deleted due to security concerns. If you're a friend on fetlife, you will receive the new link and I'd really appreciate it if you could update your subscripions and links accordingly and spread the word. I will not have an auto direct on this site, and it will be deleted in short order. Please spread the word...thanks!

Sorry I've been absent lately. Probably no one much noticed, but I just havn't had the urge to write lately. There's been a lot of play recently, with M and my friend Renee.
M has become very adept at turning on the "topping", and he enjoys making me feel "small". He changes the inflection of his voice and I find myself unable (unwilling) to deny his instructions. He seems to enjoy objectification the most. I'm not sure if that's him feeding off of my desire for it, or if it's the natural male desire for voyuerism, but I'm not complaining. ;)
My friend Renee and I have been playing also. We have an agreement for a month of her "owning" me. It's a relaxed sort of ownership, but she likes playing with me. She's a Pro Domme also, and she's ...

According to Slate, NBM's Eurotica line just re-released Guido Crepax's graphic novel adaptation of Pauline Reage's The Story of O. The article gives a quick overview of the books semi-mythological history, and looks at it from a feminist point of view, as an expression of woman's need for passion and transcendance; in effect, vindicating masochism as a spiritual or mystical experience. In describing the place where violence and tenderness, pleasure and pain, love and brutality all meet, she's not describing an eccentric fetish culture, but a universal desire. I'm slightly annoyed that in praising O, the author is taking it away from the people who loved it first and best. I believe that kinky people are not just an "eccentric fetish ...

The first scar is faint, discreet. It sits atop the shoulder on the curve down to my arm, the oldest but the smallest. I admit, it’s not entirely your doing. We liked to scratch, back then. Naked bodies, nails flashing, skin reddening. I’m not sure why. Animal passions? A pretence of competition? A distraction from the lack of flesh inside flesh? Our backs and sides and arms and chests would be covered in the traces of scores of tiny scuffles. You left a shallow scratch on my arm during one session of sweat and lust.It scabbed over quickly, but I wanted to keep it. I wanted to keep you. Who knows? It might well have scarred anyway given I’m a picker anyway. Either way, our time as lovers was over and I wanted something physical to ...

So, I guess it’s clear I’m not really updating anymore. There’s no big reason why… except, well, I’ve said it. I said it all, and then I kept talking quite a while after that. In fact, I often think, I said it all within the first six months. And although I could go on reiterating the same things because it’s not like this stuff is *fixed* now, or anything. (Apparently kink dot com have changed the name of Men in Pain to Divine Bitches, but we all knew that was coming. It was some kind of anomaly all along that a perversion porn site was called the name of what I like rather than what he likes. And the what he likes being a kind of she that is not me but in fact some kind of unreal dehumanised… see, I could ...