Fuck Me Through The Sheets ...
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Posted:Feb 8, 2017 7:47 am
Last Updated:Nov 19, 2019 2:54 am 10079 Views
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Fuck Me Through The Sheets....
He reveled in teasing her, in dragging her to the edge again and again but refusing to let her spill over. It was worth it though, when He finally let her break, finally let her come apart in His hands – it was like falling over a waterfall, the fire in her blood combusting as He claimed her body. He reveled in running His calloused hands over the smooth canvas of her skin, got a thrill from the way she arched up against Him, against His palms and His fingers.
He got a thrill from dropping trails of hot, open-mouthed kisses along the bend of her spine, from fastening His mouth over the juncture where neck and shoulder meet, from deafening Himself against her skin, from the breathy moans this would coax from her, from the way she said His name.
He’d told her once that He’d never heard His name before. Not like this. Not like she said it.
She’d realized, in that moment, that she had power over Him too, and He’d doubled down on her then and told her that He was going to turn her into a quivering, mumbling, sweating, crying mess of a girl – leave her gasping, writhing, moaning, leave her wanting, leave her needing – that He was going to revel in doing it again and again and again – revel in leaving her raw and aching – and then He did it. He did it anytime He got the chance.
Say it, He’d demand, always, every time.
And she’d respond the way she knew He wanted: This body is yours. This heartbeat is yours. This girl is yours. All yours. Always yours.
And He fucked her not as an act of passion but as an act of possession and His touch felt like fire and His words tasted like vanilla and she was His.
She was His.
Starry Night..
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Not The First
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Posted:Feb 8, 2017 7:29 am
Last Updated:Nov 9, 2023 7:08 pm 9893 Views
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Not The First...
I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers.
We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin.
Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come.
I think that has to be part of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you.
And I will not be afraid of your scars.
I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know:
Whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap, your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.
Starry Night..
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That Moment...
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Posted:Feb 7, 2017 2:31 pm
Last Updated:Nov 6, 2020 3:41 am 9938 Views
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That Moment...
I love when she looks up at me, a whimpering, quivering mess, ruined by the waves of orgasms that have beaten against her. That moment when she looks up at me, a tear pooling in the corner of her eye, and begs to me, “please sir, no more.”
It’s in that moment that I feel the greatest sense of ownership of her. When twenty or thirty orgasms have left her stretched, pounded, and shaken into conflicted bliss where her pleasure has become her pain and nothing in her world makes sense anymore, save for the fact that her body is owned, and that her mind has been indelibly marked as mine.
So go ahead and cry and beg baby, I’ll use those tears as lube and bring you once more to that place where heaven and hell meet, where your angels and demons do battle, and your mind and body rage against things seemingly impossible.
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This Is What I Know...
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Posted:Feb 6, 2017 8:56 pm
Last Updated:Feb 24, 2024 12:59 am 10259 Views
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This Is What I Know...
There is a very small selection of things that make me feel alive, and they include a few indie songs, a warm star-splattered night, and people who think about the same things I do.
This is what I know.
I won’t ever have a ton of friends. I’m not that type of person. I’m quiet and I have a resting bitch face and my sense of humor is nearly entirely sarcasm. Maybe that means I’m missing out, or maybe it means I’ve just accepted what I’ve been handed.
This is what I know.
I’m cynical and bitter and too tired to talk about things that don’t matter. Some days I just want all the acquaintances I have to dissolve away so that I only have to interact with people who I can talk to about things other than school and sports.
This is what I know.
I live to create. The world doesn’t have enough beauty. I live to spark change. The world doesn’t have enough fighters. I don’t want to sit back and take things anymore. I don’t want to pretend I’m not smart and capable and passionate about things.
This is what I know.
I don’t entirely know who I am, but I’m very close to finding out.
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Once In A Lifetime...
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Posted:Feb 2, 2017 2:27 am
Last Updated:Apr 2, 2022 2:16 am 11999 Views
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Once In A Lifetime...
“Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colors seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.”
― Bob Marley
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Subspace...(Two Kinds)
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Posted:Feb 1, 2017 10:05 pm
Last Updated:Apr 23, 2021 4:22 am 11021 Views
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Subspace...(Two Kinds)
Two Kinds of Subspace
Subspace is a widespread experience among BDSM subs, and from my own interactions with partners and discussions with friends, it manifests in two distinct forms. I have only seen one of these discussed in published materials and online forums.
What I call physiological subspace, which is the variant most commonly described, is induced through sustained pain play, especially from impact toys, e.g. a bare hand, flogger, paddle, cane, etc. It is apparently caused by endorphins, adrenaline, or other body chemistry. The actual sensation varies among individuals. The way it was described to me by a partner experiencing it is a strong whole-body buzzing sensation coupled with an inability to focus her eyes. Others I've spoken with have described it as a warm, floaty, spacey, serene feeling which is less bothered by pain. Some people attach spiritual significance to the experience. For some it is the point of kinky play.
Physiological subspace is not inevitable during S&M play. I know of one top who would monitor his partner and pause when she felt subspace coming on, until the feeling passed, so that she would remain wholly present, and fully sensitive to pain, during their sessions.
What I call psychological subspace, which I had never seen discussed in writing before I witnessed it first hand, occurs far more commonly than the physiological kind. It is apparently induced by feeling drawn to a dom. I have no idea what causes this phenomenon, but it is widespread among subs I have met. It is not the same as sexual arousal, though may be accompanied by that. The sensation is very much an altered state, where the person becomes inarticulate or non-verbal, suggestible, and feels floaty and warm, possibly with mild tingling throughout the body. It is an inviting feeling, and hard to resist.
Problematically, a sub can drop into psychological subspace around a dom she hardly knows! I've experienced this very situation, during a first conversation with a girl, on two occasions — once on the phone, and once sitting together at a cafe. In both cases my companion was caught off guard by the sudden, intense feelings, and somewhat overwhelmed. Fortunately this state can be managed or suppressed, and it's very important for subs to learn to do so, as subspace leaves a sub vulnerable to a dom who's motives she isn't certain of. Simply breathing and bringing your attention back to what's going on around you will help lift you out of subspace, but you'll need to sustain that effort once you come back to the surface.
Although I have no experience of hypnosis, in either therapeutic or erotic situations, I suspect that psychological subspace is sometimes mistaken for a hypnotic trance. While it's conceivable that they're related states of mind, psychological subspace is not caused by a dom, merely catalyzed by him. I have to wonder whether doms who claim to practice hypnosis are merely triggering subspace responses in their subjects!
The Journey Of Will...
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Follow Directions...
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Posted:Jan 31, 2017 6:07 am
Last Updated:Aug 21, 2022 1:03 am 13976 Views
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Follow Directions...
She leaned back on the bed, her plaid skirt riding up scandalously high on her milky thighs. She bit her lip and smiled as my eyes climbed up her legs, catching just a glimpse of the panties barely contained below the skirt’s hem, continuing up her curvy frame. She watched as my gaze lingered on her bust, which was spilling out from the white button-up shirt she’d borrowed from my closet.
Lifting one leg, she raised it high into the air before crossing it over the other, her best doe-eyed innocent look on her face as she continued to tease. She ran a hand through her hair, watching, waiting for the moment when I would pounce. She knew from experience that I was capable of great violence and passion, knew that the bag leaning casually against her bed contained all manners of torments and teasing implements. But for now, I just watched.
Though, as I watched, the tell-tale signs of an erection began poking against my jeans, straining for freedom against the denim. She licked her lips, slowly, bobbing her head to the side and reaching one hand up to undo a button on the shirt. Her breasts threatened to break free, straining the few remaining snaps with their heft, but her purpose was finally achieved as I gave in and stepped toward her.
She leaned forward to greet me, eyes closed, lips pursed but I had another purpose in mind. My right hand snaked around behind her head, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking her head back. She yelped, and her eyes opened wide in surprise, but that was just the beginning. My left hand came up with a light slap across her face, just enough to get her attention.
I leaned in close, my lips on her ear, my grip on her hair unrelenting, keeping constant pressure on her scalp. “Each time I slap you, I want you to slap yourself once more, just as hard. If you try to let yourself off easy, then my hand will find it’s way down to your cunt.”
As she nodded her eyes caught my attention. So wide, so bright. I couldn’t wait to see the tears leaking from them. Pulling my head free, I let my hand find it’s way to her cheek again. Almost before I could move away, her hand came up and caught her face. Perhaps even a little bit harder than I had. Again, I slapped her cheek, the skin growing rosy as she matched me. Harder.
I could see her biting her lip, ever so slightly, and a few tears leaking from the corner of her eyes. Leaning in close, I kissed her cheek, whispered, “Good girl,” and released my grip on her hair.
Stepping behind her, I put my hand on the back of her head and drove her face first onto her bed. Pinning her face against her sheets, I moved a hand under her hips and guided her as she assumed the proper position. Face down, ass up. Always.
I drew back the zipper on my bag and reached in, grabbing a few things and placing them just out of view on the bed behind her. Her pussy was already dripping wet, those glorious pink lips glistening in the dim light of her room. First things first, I placed a small suction jar over her clit and began to pump, engorging her tender nub inside the airtight bell. She gasped, her hands grasping the sheets, and her back arching. Silently, I used my hands to move her back into the proper position. As I prepared the next toy, my left hand reached between her legs and flicked at her trapped clit, watching her entire body tense and tremble under the stimulation. I pulled on the jar, not hard enough to pull it free, but enough to cause her discomfort. Watching her shake as she tried to hold the proper positioning was always a favorite.
My hands raised up over my head and came down in a simultaneous slap on her ass cheeks, causing her ass to wobble and bounce. Again she yelped, more from surprise than pain. My hands slapped her again, fingers digging deep into her cheeks this time, spreading them apart to reveal her asshole. My right thumb, heavily lubed, quickly found its way to her entrance, rubbing a slow circle against her hole. Each circle brought with it a little more pressure, easing my thumb inside of her while my left hand cupped her pussy, idly tracing her lips, distributing the juices leaking from the teasing.
With the tip of my thumb just inside her ass I pulled slightly, easing her open, preparing her for what was to come. After a few minutes of steady teasing and probing, my hand left her, watching the slight gape that remained momentarily, before returning with a large steel hook with a bulb at the end. Holding the hook at the curve, I pointed the bulb between her cheeks and began to repeat my motions from earlier, this time with more pressure, forcing the metal into her ass. The hook was cold, and I watched her body fight it before relenting, the large sphere slipping easily into her ass which quickly clamped down on it.
At the end of the hook was a large circle, not unlike that at the top of a fishing hook. My hands moved deftly, wrapping a few coils of rope under her shoulders, around her neck, and securing it to the exposed end of the hook. The rope was a bright crimson, sharp contrast against the pale skin of her back. I tested the knots carefully, the rope was looped around her in a way that applied steady pressure against her throat. Not enough to choke her, but enough that each breath would bring with it a slight struggle. The pressure was light, but constant, and if she tried to straighten her body up or arch her back, the rope would tighten instantly, only going slack when she resumed the proper position.
One more toy waited, the thick stalk of a Hitachi magic wand. The base was pressed into the bed, the head positioned just between her legs, balanced precariously. I flipped the switch to low, letting it hum against her pussy, creating a strange tinkling sound against the suction cup on her clit. Megan moaned, long and low, her hips pressing down on the wand, pinning it in place which was exactly what I’d hoped for. Megan rocked her pelvis slowly, the head of the wand thrumming between her labia, tap-tap-tapping against her trapped clit.
Satisfied that she was how I wanted, I stepped back and admired her form. The smooth curve of her hips, the way her breasts rocked back and forth inside the shirt, the crimson hue her face was taking on as the rope worked its magic against her windpipe. Stepping forward, I raised my hand and brought it down against her ass, leaving an unmistakable mark against her flesh. This was harder than even the most vicious blow against her face, intended to disrupt the pleasure she was currently blissing out on. My hand went up again, and fell, landing directly on the mark left by the previous swat. She moaned, squealed, and the Hitachi teetered precariously between her legs, the tinkling thrum replaced now by soft humming.
“If you lose that wand, you don’t get to cum,” I warned, before landing several more slaps across her ass. Her cheeks grew bright red, and warm, as each progressive slap built upon those that came before. She whimpered and squirmed, feebly attempting to shift her hips to escape my wrath, but there was nowhere to go. As my right hand spanked her viciously, my left grabbed ahold of a fistful of hair and yanked her head back, applying immediate pressure to her throat via the rope. Using her scalp as an anchor I twisted her head around to the side, watching her, our eyes locked as her cheeks grew even deeper in shade.
Finally I released my grip, tossing her head forward, easing the pressure on her throat, and resuming my two-handed assault on her backside. I worked my way methodically around, covering her ass and the tops of her thighs in marks which would turn into deep, purple bruises by tomorrow. My ears listened carefully to the rise and fall of her cries, the way she moaned or squealed, and the intensity of her grinding on the wand.
She was close. My hands moved quickly, slapping her in a crescendo of blows, aiming for fresh bruises, driving the heel of my hand hard against her quivering flesh. In a flash, my left hand moved between her legs, gripped the suction cup over her clit and yanked it free just as my right came down with all my force, driving her body onto the wand. My right hand pinned her there, pressing her body down onto the wand as she twitched and spasmed, her cunt leaking, her entire body shaking as the orgasm within her built to a fury before exploding forth.
For several long moments I held her there, watching as tremors and shockwaves rippled through her body, listening to her long howls of pleasure and pain, feeling the throb of the wand’s pulses echoing through her. Finally her muscles released, her body falling limp to the side. Carefully I untied the ropes, easing the hook out of her ass, again watching the lovely gape slowly subside as her body reunites itself with the familiar empty feeling. Bright red marks cover her ass, telling of bruises yet to come, and the rope has left a series of deep crisscrossing lines across her shoulders and around her neck. She was beaten, and broken, and as beautiful as ever
A Weekend...
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Daddy....
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Posted:Jan 31, 2017 4:28 am
Last Updated:Feb 16, 2023 5:07 am 12414 Views
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Daddy...
You’re mine. My love, my princess, my property. Yes, you’re a person. A profound, powerful one at that. But you’re also something to be had, kept and owned like the precious pet that you are.
As the owned, you will serve me. My needs will be met with enthusiasm and you’ll be my obedient kitten, who will suffer my marks and please me when commanded to. That’s because your body is mine to use. Be it brutally fucking your face or pounding that tender and sore pussy until I’m more interested in your pain I’m making you suffer, than my own pleasure.
No matter what I decide to do with you, you’ll obey and serve me true, because that is the number one Edict of the owned.
As the owner, I will protect which is mine at all cost. Building you up with my loving, caring hands and a will that will lead us both to moments of perfection between a sensual sadist and his princess, serving as his blank canvas.
You are mine. You are owned and we always care for that which we own, more than that which does not belong to us and for you, I will care for and use you as I want, as if it was my rightful place, because it is.
Because I own you and you wouldn’t want anything else but to be owned, used and forever cherished by her loving Daddy.
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