Cool Down in a Hot Way

"It's not the heat, it's the humidity!" If you live anywhere close to the midwest, you hear this all summer long. When I hear it, I want to punch someone in the face. It IS the heat AND the humidity! If the actual temperature wasn't 101 then the 95% humidity wouldn't be so damned horrible! So, we stay inside, but since I am close to that Age of Black Magic (also called menopause), I'm still hot, despite the air conditioning. I complain. I whine, I grouch for a while. Finally, my Man has had it. He orders me to the Room. Again, rather than submitting like I know I should, I complain that it's just too hot to fool around. He gives me a look that tells me he is, most assuredly, NOT fooling around. I go. I know better know than to push him, so I follow his rule and remove my clothes before I enter. I'm not allowed to wear anything that he has not put on me into this Room. 

Shortly, he enters as well and he's carrying a small cooler. I look at it skeptically but he says nothing. At first. Then, he tells me to go to the Cross. It's isn't really a St. Andrew's Cross, but rather four eye hooks with attached carabiners which are screwed into the wall at the appropriate places. Once I'm in place, he attaches four cuffs to my ankles and wrists and hooks me in. Now, I'm immobile. He pulls ice bullet and puts it inside of me. I gasp at the coldness of it. Just to make sure it stays in place (since my legs are spread open), he fashions panties of sorts out of rope. 

out a fan and points it directly at me and I'm grateful for the cool breeze. Then, he pulls out an

"Okay, okay," I say. "You're tired of my complaints. but holy hell that's cold."

"It's about to get colder," he warns. "And then, then it will get very, very hot."

My Man is always right.

Leather

I love the smell, the feel, the touch of leather. I mentioned this some time ago and now He has decided that for 48 hours i  shall feel only leather on my skin. Well, leather and him.  I arrived at his home and he immediately ripped my clothing from my body. I love and hate when this happens. His power, his strength both frighten and thrill me, but I also know that when I leave, I will be wearing only one of his dress shirts and, perhaps, a belt to hold it in place plus my shoes.

After I am completely nude (aside from the shoes) you use two belts to bind my legs. You've never done this before and the position is both erotic and uncomfortable. I can still close my legs but I cannot straighten them. You wear leather gloves so that i cannot feel the skin of your hands touching me. I begin to speak, but you want none of this and so you gag me with another leather belt. It is thin, so in theory I could speak around it and it in no way restricts my breathing. I'm grateful for the thinness because this also always me to bite down on it which I need to do .

You push my bound legs apart and using your gloved hand, you spank my pussy. Pain radiates through me and tears spill down my cheeks, but my pussy responds well to this treatment and so you continue until the smacks resound with a wet, slurping sound. 

You stand then, unzip your trousers and push your hard cock into my swollen, tender hole. I raise my hips as best I can and cry out again, this time with pleasure, when you begin to fuck me. It hurts. Oh how it hurts, but more than that, the look of pleasure on your face and the feel of you inside of me push me over the edge and I coat your cock with my cum. You pull out and stroke yourself, finally coming across my stomach and breasts.

You release my legs and allow me a few moments to recover. You stand and dress yourself then help me to stand as well. You do not remove the belt around my head and i know this is for a reason. I will need to bite down again. I will not be allowed to speak. You have me bend, placing my hands on an end table in your living room. I am facing a window and am grateful for the thin sheer curtain. You remove your gloves and I am grateful for that as well. I love your hands. It is not, though, your hands on me now. It is the leather slapper. I hate that blasted thing. It takes so little effort from you for it to leave marks on my skin, which is exactly why you enjoy it so much. I bite down on the belt and dance a bit from foot to foot. Once again tears flow easily from my eyes but you show no mercy. My ass is on fire and, shamefully, I can smell my own arousal again. Just when I think I will break and use my safe word you stop. I suck in air from around my gag but I do not break position. I know better. I hear as you move about the room, humming to yourself. I hear ice drop into a glass and smell whiskey. I listen to your footsteps fade and you walk into your bedroom. Then silence. 

You come back, take my arms and position them behind my back. You wrap a soft piece of leather around them, binding them in place. I feel the tip of a plug against my anus and bite down. You tell me that you have had this plug specially made. It was not overly large so that I could wear it for an extended time bu it was also made of specially treated leather. This is going to be a wonderful weekend.

Let 'Em In

Someone's knockin' at the door!

Somebody's ringin' the bell!

Do me a favor a favor and let'em in!

Yes, these are the lyrics from a very popular Wings song "Let'em in". Today is the anniversary of its release and my Mister decided to honor this release in a special way. He came home from work early and I was thrilled. He took me into the bedroom, blindfolded me, bound my hands and ankles and had his awesome way with me. I absolutely love being blindfolded since it heightens all of my other senses. Having my hands and ankles bound also forces me to be even more submissive, at least in my own mind. I know good and well that all I'd have to do was say "No" and the bindings would be gone. But why in the name of that is holy fucking hot would I do that??? So he takes me, makes love to me, gently, slowly, kissing every inch of me, uses my body just like we both want and finally he comes inside of me. I think he's finished, right? Wrong. I hear "Someone knocking at the door!" and what does he do? He lets 'em in! and onto me! Yep. I know it isn't him because, hell, I KNOW his body, his touch, his smell, his taste. This is NOT him! But I hear him. He's talking me through this. Telling me it's all okay. That we are going to commemorate the release of his favorite song by letting 'em in. Into me that is. Dead silence for a moment and then I nod and say, "Open the door, Uncle Ernie".  So, the "knocker" speaks quietly to "Uncle Ernie", so quietly that I can't catch enough of the voice to tell who it is. "Ernie" unbinds my ankles only to bind them again, spread eagle this time, attaching them to the bedposts. He also takes my bound wrists and raises them above my head, attaching them also to the bed. Now I'm stuck. I already have Ernie's beautiful come inside of me, so I'm good and wet. "knocker" goes to town and fucks me. Hard. Fast. His hands grabbing my ass and digging in. This is not making love, this is fucking. I cry out, shocked, but not asking to stop. Ernie tells me how proud he is of me, that I can take it (he's right!), that he's the luckiest man to have such a woman. Finally, "knocker" pulls out and sprays hot cum all over my stomach and breasts. Ernie kisses me, again praising me. He sucks my nipples and I explode, orgasming again myself. Then, the doorbell rings. I moan and squeak a bit and Ernie says, "Somebody ringin' the bell." I pant, regaining my breath, then answer, "Open the door and let'em in." Ringer again whispers to Ernie too low for me to hear. This time, I am released, told to kneel beside the bed and my wrist to the foot board. I know what's coming and I hate it (but love it at the same time). Mr. Ringer fingers my seriously wet pussy now and then my rosebud. He pushes in quite a bit of the wetness so that I am good and lubed up. Ernie again talks me through it all, praising me, pointing out my perfect (pfffft) body. He's petting my hair and rubbing my back while "Ringer" eases his cock into my back door. I whine and moan but also push back against him. Once he has landed he goes to it. Fingers digging deeply into my hips, cock fucking my anus and Ernie (or maybe Ringer) slapping my ass. I can't stand it anymore. I cum and I cum hard, squeezing Ringer tighter than he expected because he yells "Jesus!" like it's the second coming (see what I did there) and releases his load into my rear end. Eventually, I come back to earth and by that time, Uncle Ernie and I are alone again. He's untied me and is holding me on his lap. 

What a lovely way to celebrate a great song!

The Vacation - a new release

This book started as a blog story but now I've worked it into a book. Enjoy!


A pediatrician and her husband spend their two week vacation in a secluded, rustic cabin, away from the hustle and bustle of their busy lives. Here, Olivia can remember what truly makes her happy - being her husband's obedient, submissive wife.

A Woman's Place

A woman's place, in my opinion, is where she wants it to be. If she wants (and is qualified) to be a CEO of a company, a firefighter, a homemaker, a doctor, a nurse, a teacher, a construction worker, then that is her place. Me, I I have several places where I belong, where I am confident and where I am comfortable. Like most women, I am multi-faceted.

One place that is mine is beneath my husband. Not figuratively, since as a person I am beneath no one. No, I mean literally beneath him. I feel safe here, loved, adept, cared for, desired. When he tells me to strip in the middle of a field or in a secluded woods, I cringe at the idea of being discovered, but I do it because He wants me to and I want to please him. The pride and love I feel by giving him what he desires far outweighs my fears. I am thrilled that he desires me NOW. Yes, it appears that I am subservient, but I'm not. I'm the person he most desires and it is truly my pleasure to serve him.

Yes, I will endure physical pain if that is what he desires. I know the whole physiology of endorphins and such but I also know that he simply likes the way my bottom looks when he has spanked, paddled, caned or whipped it. I know the pride I feel by being able to give this to him. I lie over his lap, on the bed, across a chair and bite my lip or cry out while he brings my skin alive. No, he is not punishing me, he is pleasing himself and in doing so he is pleasing me. Trust me, after a good spanking all he has to do is give me a whisper of a touch, a breath of air across my bottom, my pussy, my nipples and I am undone with pleasure.




Speaking of nipples, he is not always gentle with them either. He twists, clips, bits, pulls, sucks on them until I cry for mercy (which he will give if I use the appropriate word). He likes my nipples swollen, but, tender to the touch and so very, very responsive. I really thing that there is a nerve that directly connects my nipples to my clit because when he touches them either with a gentle swipe of his tongue or the harsh bite of metal, I tremble with desire. Immediately.






So, where is my place? My place is beneath him. I am his pleasure and he is mine.

Discovering Pleasure

In reality (THIS IS NOT FICTION) I'm really looking forward to our mini vacation to Southern Illinois later this month. It takes me back to when I was researching "Discovering Pleasure" under my first penname and it has simply got to be one of my favorites.

First, the main setting is Giant City State Park, one of my absolute favorite retreats. Second, lots of wine was involved and so I had the "duty" to hit many of the Southern Illinois Wineries. Third, Rose, the main character, discovers not only her true love but also her history. As an adopted child (totally different circumstances from Rose!) I understand the longing, hope and fear of meeting your biological family. So, Here's a little blurb I hope you enjoy from Discovering Pleasure.

A little wine, a little nature, and one hot man is all Rose needs to Discover her Pleasure. 

When Rose asks her Dominant, Nathan, to help her discover her family roots in Southern Illinois, she learns more about herself than she bargained for. 

After spending a week at Giant City State Park, Rose leaves with not only a new family, but new friends and a new life filled with the structure she craves, Pleasure and love.

All about that Bass

During the week He pleasure me everywhere. I am his princess and he treats me with consideration, gentleness, and always sees to my pleasure before his own. Weekends, however, are all about him. And what does he love? You guessed it - Bass - or more specifically, Ass.

 He loves everything about my ass which is why I am not allowed to cover it without permission from Friday after work until Monday morning.









He is allowed to use my ass as he wishes, to display it for his pleasure or for my humiliation, to use any implement on it - his hand, a paddle, a wooden spoon, his belt. The choice is in his hands.





He will plug it; I am not allowed to remove the plug - only he may.






















Best of all, he will fuck it. He is not gentle, not considerate (aside from using lots of lube!). My ass is, literally, his and he will use it as he chooses.

Yes, I can always use a safeword, but why would I do that since I derive as much pleasure from submitting to this lovely man has he does?  Yes, by Monday morning I am tender both inside and out and when I sit at my work desk I remember - vividly - my weekend. And you know what? I can't wait for Friday to come again!

Saturday Night Date

We're going out on the town tonight. Dinner, drinks, walking around a street festival. It's beautiful tonight with the temperature hovering around 78. There is no need for him to instruct me in my dress, I know what he likes and I know the consequences if I dress in a way that fails to please him. Still, I thought he wouldn't mind if I wore panties since the length of the dress was so short. My mistake. He checked beneath my dress before we left the house and was, to say the least, disappointed in my failure to follow his expectations.

He corrected my mistake immediately. My pretty new black lace panties were ripped from my body. He turned me to face the wall and administered a hard spanking with his bare hand. I cried out, begged forgiveness (without really wanting or expecting it) but he continued until my skin was on fire. Fine. I'd been punished. He stopped the spanking and I heard him unzip his trousers. I looked back over my shoulders and gasped. This time I begged in earnest. Please. Please don't fuck me then deny me panties. Your cum will drip down my legs all evening. Please.

Second Mistake. Oh he fucked me. And he fucked me hard, fast and well. Within a minute he let loose his load of hotness inside of my pussy, denying me an orgasm of my own. Then, he sat down, pulled me over his lap and spanked me again! This time for questioning him. By now, I was a freaking mess. My bottom burned and, I'm sure, was 50 shades of red.  I was primed for an orgasm but none would be allowed. He paddled my ass until I sobbed, my make-up running down my face. Only when I stopped resisting and went limp against his legs did he stop. Then, he turned me over, held me, asked if I had learned my lesson (YES!) and told me to go fix my face. Once that was finished, we went on our date. His cum dripping down my leg, drying, my swollen lips brushing against each other with each step I took. We enjoyed dinner, drinks, music and later, I'd finally enjoy my long denied pleasure.

The Quality of Mercy

The quality of mercy is not Strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from Heaven
upon the place beneath: It is twice blessed
It blesses him that gives and him that takes. - - William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice

As so it is. I do not ask for mercy, yet, when it is given, I am blessed. My only desire is to bless him who is merciful.

Anticipation

I know how to prepare for his arrive. I enjoy doing so. I don't touch His toys while clothed - it's kind of "thing" for him. So, I showered, shaved, lotioned up. I fixed my hair, applied light make up. I put on my cuffs. Then, I gathered the toys he had chosen for tonight's session and arranged them in the Room. I even added his favorite Vodka, already chilled, and two shot glasses. He will drink one shot before we begin and one after. I am allowed two before and one after. Now, I must wait. My chair is by a window which adds to my anticipation since I jump and stare at the sound of every car that drives by in front of the house. He may or may not use each of the instruments. The gag, the single tailed whip, the slapper. He may use none of these. But, these are what he wanted to be visible and in easy reach and so they are. The purpose for having me prepare? Simple. I am now in my sub zone. I am mentally in a place to let go of all my worldly thoughts and focus on one thing - well, two actually. Him and me. We are all that exist in my world and He is all that I anticipate.