Friday, March 22, 2013

FFF: Liberation Interlude

She woke up naked in an empty, white room.

It felt like a spear had lodged itself in her brain, and as she examined her cold skin, she was struck by the pattern of bruises lacing around her wrists, up her arms, criss-crossing her torso, and making their way down her legs.  Cradling the bruises were continuous shallow impressions in her flesh.

Licking her cracked lips, and running her hand through her wet, tangled hair, she heard footsteps on concrete grow from soft, to louder, to silent.  She could not find a door with her eyes, but she could hear the clanking of keys, and banging of metal that told her some sort of entrance was being unlocked.  A door materialized out of the white cloud of space, and a man, dressed in a suit entered and walked toward her.

Every fiber of her being told her to run, but some small, primitive kernel at the base of her brain told her to stay, to roll over at his feet, and offer herself up to his granite eyes.

He knelt down and carefully picked her up, easily accepting the weight of her, stood and walked back out the way he had come.

She woke up naked in an empty white room.


The rules for this Friday's Flash Fiction:
keyword..."liberation, but not freedom"
word count: 199-209



I don't do this often...but really, I've read some really good shit recently - really provocative, inspiring stuff.  I encourage you to head on over and read...

"Speaking the Unspeakable" at My Dissolute Life

"Jouissance Precoce" at Remittance Girl

"Stop Shitting on Bottoms" at Hunger in the Library

"Invisible Lines"...a four part story by Monocle at The Erotic Writer

I'm not very good at keeping up with comments.  In fact, I'll be honest - I won't comment on your stuff unless I really have something say.  I do not feel compelled to comment on peoples' blogs just so they will come and visit mine to do the same.  So you can rest assured that if I comment, you have genuinely struck a chord with me.  Not that you care...but...


And, since I am sort of combining this with Thursday's HNT I can focus on Dear Sir tomorrow (yes, love...I have something in store for you - and BTW...thanks for the before-you-went-to-work fuck - it was necessary), here's a little P.S.:

The Lustful Literate...yes, all I'm wearing is the cardigan...

Wednesday, March 20, 2013


I just love this picture.  It sums up my marriage in so many ways.

The world of D/s.  It can cause a great deal of confusion.  Even the people who are involved in it and have been for some time disagree on what it is and isn't.  Some say it must involve the standards of BDSM culture (leather, humiliation, pain...), others believe it is something a couple must determine and define for themselves.  I'm of the latter camp.

Some might also find it confusing why a perfectly sane, independent, capable woman would allow herself to be a man's possession.  They argue that giving in to a submissive role in the relationship undermines women's rights or sets us back 60 years on our path to equality.  I'm not sure that they're mutually exclusive though.  Can one not be a feminist and still be submissive by nature, choosing a submissive role in the relationship?  I, personally feel that D/s in no way diminishes the equality of the individuals involved or the respect that they have for one another.

I know, I know...I've read up on the "slave" business.  And I fully understand that those particular set-ups do not need to be based on love or respect or equality.  But they CAN be.  When love is at the center of the relationship, I actually think it is essential.  Honestly...if Mr. LL didn't love and respect me and see me as an equal contributor to our relationship, I wouldn't be as likely to be doing this.  Realistically, I wouldn't even be married to him.  But, as the case is...he does, so...why then am I doing it?


Because I like it.

I like being told what to him. I don't particularly like being bossed around by others...though I appreciate clear instructions and expectations from all of my "superiors" and rarely get them that way. I do like being "bossed" by Mr. LL because - it's just plain fucking sexy to have a man take the reigns and "have his way with me."

Several weeks ago, Mr. LL proposed that I wear a collar. Something subtle. Something classy. Something only he and I would really recognize as a symbol of his "ownership" of me. I wasn't sold on the idea right away. We began searching and had a ridiculously hard time agreeing on what it should look like. What he liked and what I liked were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

My Idea

His Idea

Not to mention, I have a sensitive neck. My skin rashes rather easily...and if a collar is too tight, and I sweat...I'm gonna have a red ring around my neck that will be neither sexy nor comfortable. So, I was more interested in looser versions. But, Mr. LL won out (go figure) and ordered a "training collar" of his choosing...just to see if I liked it and to see if it would fit correctly (as it had to be custom made to fit my neck) before shelling out the cash on the more expensive one.

So, he sends me a text today...telling me to look on my pillow when I get home...which I do - the minute I walk in the door.  And inside pink tissue paper bound ribbon, was this...

Navigating the waters of sexual evolution on your own is complicated.  Navigating them with a partner is more so.  All the negotiations.  And that's certainly where we are right now...the negotiation table.  Researching, discussing, researching some more, trying things out, discussing, and coming up with our initial "rules of engagement".

So mentioned last night - we have the beginning stages of a list of rules:

1)  I am not allowed to wear clothing to bed when Mr. LL is home.
2)  When there are no children in the house, I am to wear a dress/skirt/nightgown to allow easy access to my body at all times.
3)  I am to ask for permission before I masturbate.

It's our own brand of D/s.  Like many others who have embraced this "lifestyle"...we are appreciative of our ability to make choices about how to incorporate it in our daily lives.  For example, I will not be called or thought of as a "slave" and it would completely creep me out to call him "Daddy."  And he is not interested (thankfully) in truly hurting or humiliating me.  If this is to be a life choice rather than an occasional role-play tool, we have to be consistent, committed, and open.

I have to admit, it all really appeals to my sense of order.  I can be pretty scatter-brained...and I have to multi-task and organize shit for others all day, every day.  It's nice to have order imposed upon me.  Of course, it's also nice to have a say in those impositions.

Anyhow, confusion is basically the definition of human existence, in my book.  It is a state of being in which we often find ourselves...but also the one that encourages and allows for the most personal growth.  When we are confused and try to work our way out of it, we create new knowledge (at least for ourselves).

I guess that is what Mr. LL and I are doing...working our way through the sea of conflicting information to find our own place of contentment.

This has been a Wicked Wednesday post.  Click HERE to read the other Wicked interpretations of the prompt: "Confusion".

Saturday, March 16, 2013

E(lust) #44: I'm in the backseat of the bus...

Photo courtesy of Plumptious Pea
Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #45? Start with the newly updated rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Everyday D/s
Honesty sometimes feels like manipulation
Blood, life, sex
~ Featured Posts (Molly’s Picks) ~
Grief and Sex
Bringing Others into a Dom/Sub Relationship
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Adventures In… Lube-land
PolyAnna's Musings: Radar Love
A productive morning
Livia Has a Crush
Terms of Fatness

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Thoughts: Feminism, Sexism and Submission

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Deep subspace - sexy or scary?
Django Unchained: the suffering black female
What the hell is 'NORMAL' sex anyway?
All About the Collar
Dirty Little Secret

Erotic Fiction

Master's Valentine's ToDo List
The Passion of First Encounters.
Ma'am's Turn (First Meeting Part 3)
Nipple torture and girl love
The Boundary
I'm in the Mood
Lolita Twenty-Thirteen, Part Two
A Quick Preview

Erotic Non Fiction

Lindsey's Orgasm
Blog Jammin'
Postponing the Inevitable
Watching Has its Own Rewards
A Farewell Torment
I want to lick your pussy
Cap D'Agde 2012 Foam Party
Dirty Hot
Eighty-Five Minutes
Saying Goodnight
Hundreds of orgasms
our open marriage- mina's date
1+1+1= My first threesome
Writing Sex Scenes
Beginnings and Endings
Glass Bottle
One Cole the Dane + One WeVibe Salsa = Orgasm


Epiphora's beginner’s guide to sex toy review
Very Inspiring Blogger Award


Erotic Eroticon
Finessing Sex- A Snippet Of Fiction
Eroticon Highlights
Bite Me


In the Back Seat of the Bus
Oiled Seduction

Friday, March 15, 2013

On the Edge

Key Word  = Regret
Length = Any prime number
Extra Credit = Have the whole thing in Russian (just kidding)
Bonus Words - Tell  someone "I love you" for the 1st time this week
Bonus words must be added in Prime Number increments

So, I took up the challenge here and followed in Advizor's footsteps...composing each paragraph of words to equal each of the prime numbers on the scale, in order...up to 59.  (2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19...).  And let me tell you...that wasn't easy to do AND keep with the photo...AND keep to the prompt...AND somehow create a story line.

On the Edge

"No way!"

"Oh, come on..."

He gave her that look.

That look she always fell hard for.

"No one here will ever remember you; no one knows you."

"But what if someone calls the cops?  I couldn't handle being arrested for public indecency.  Seriously.  No."

He directed her to the balcony, placed her in the path of the sun, and watched her skin glow.

"Please...for me?  I have always wanted to put you on display, in front of the world, knowing that you are all mine."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm going to need a shot of something...anything...a little liquid courage - or stupidity, more like - whatever, just something to help numb my inhibitions."

He poured some expensive bourbon into a glass, lifted it to her lips, placed her head in the palm of his hand, and guided the hot liquor between her grinning lips.

She downed it all in one swallow, her eyes widening momentarily, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  Coughing slightly, she smoothed her dress, stood up straight, composed, inhaled and exhaled sharply, preparing herself.

He poured himself a drink and sat down on the edge of the hotel bed as she made her way toward the open balcony door.  Stepping out onto the tile, looking straight ahead, she slowly unzipped the back of her dress. 

She guided it down around her hips, exposing that first tantalizing glimmer of her panties; he felt a twitch at the base of his cock.  Her vertebrae curved gently from her neck to the triangle of fabric at the top of her ass.

Sliding her thumbs under the elastic of her panties, she pulled them down, bending over to step out of them and kick the dress aside.  Her minimal clothing in a heap beside her, she stood, naked, on the balcony before him.  Her skin shone in the sunlight.

She lifted her hands up toward the sky, silently proclaiming her victory to the world.  The swell of one breast just visible from the side, he watched the shadows make love to the curve of her waist and hip and thigh.  Like slow, methodic, ocean waves, the lines of her body calmed him.

With his guidance, she could be unstoppable.  And he felt braver, more confident, and powerful because of her need for his prodding support.  Standing there, baring her body to the world, like a graceful statue, she embodied everything that he could ever want...a mortal woman, naked and vulnerable, imperfect and daring, defying possible regrets...willing to accept his challenge.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Instructions (part two)

Read part one HERE.

The sensation was mixed...whatever the item was that he was dragging across her back, it was sharp -- hurting and tickling at the same time.  She squirmed and jerked as he moved the metal over the most sensitive spots on her sides and lower back...and right down the crack of her ass.  She squealed, and her body, involuntarily, jolted...her legs pulling up and her elbows digging into her ribs.

"You're going to have to lie still.  Or I'll be forced to tie you down."

"I can't help it..." she whined.

"You'll have to...or I will do it for you."

"I'll try..." she responded, in a highly unconvincing tone.

"I don't think I can trust you when you sound so unsure of yourself.  Roll over and put your knees up."

She did what he said.

"Now clasp your hands together behind your knees."

She, again, did as he commanded, and felt him wrap her wrists in something with velcro and then connect them with a click.  When her hands were well-secured behind her knees, her ankles suffered the same fate.
Her sex exposed, he began to stroke the outer labia with the backs of his fingers...then ran them between her pussy lips, spreading them like a curtain.

She let out her breath slowly and dramatically as he did the same between her legs.  A rivulet of moisture slipped out of her and dripped onto the sheet, disappearing beneath her ass.

"Ahhh...I see that someone is enjoying herself already..."

"Yes..." she whispered.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir..."

"That's a good girl. I like it when you're wet for me."

He flicked his tongue across her clit a few times and then took it between his teeth, gently, and began to suck it hard...until she squealed.

"Stop!  I can't handle it anymore..."

"Yes.  You can.  And you will."  He went back to it, until she was nearly in tears, her ankles and wrists straining against their confines.  He'd left the penetration for last, wanted her nether mouth wet and gaping, hungry for him...desperate.  He slipped one finger into her, just to the second knuckle.

"Tell me how much you want it."

"I want it...please...I want you to shove it in deep..."

"Keep going..."

"Two fingers, three...your whole fucking hand...your cock, I want you buried in me, fucking me so hard the wetness splashes all over our thighs..."  she spat the words out in near-angry frustration.

"That's better."  He slipped the whole finger, slowly and methodically twisting it in and out, careful to graze her g-spot on every entrance and exit.  Her hips rotated and bucked to meet him, trying to hurry him, but he resisted, taking his time.

"Please, Sir...I need to be fucked..."  a small, pleading voice.

"Oh, you'll be fucked...when I'm damned good and ready."

She wimpered, defeated, and sighed like a balloon losing all of its air.  He continued to play, teasing her with his one finger, pulling it out and tracing the outside of her lips, the inside, the clit, the slit, and then her tight, puckered little anus.  He knew it made her uncomfortable...but he also knew she liked it.  Already well-lubed by her own juices, he eased his finger slowly into her asshole.

"You like that don't you, you dirty, little whore?"

"Yes, sir..." she breathed, her cheeks blazing.

"Roll over."

It took some maneuvering, and he didn't help her at all with her struggle.  She squirmed and fidgeted her way onto her knees, her face and neck jammed into the bed, her wrists and ankles still secured.

"Such a beautiful pussy..." he purred from behind her.  He licked it, sucked on it, made it drip.

"Beg me to fuck you."

"Please, Sir...I want your...I need your cock in me - I need to feel you explode in me...use me..."  She was breathless, almost tearful, pleading for relief.  Her pussy was throbbing.  Should could hear him unbuttoning his jeans, could feel his shirt lifting up on her ass, as he unceremoniously shoved his cock balls deep into her without warning.  She screamed with the shock...the intensity of it.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow...."  The calmness of his words belied his body's actions -- forceful and furious.  He reached down and grabbed her hair, pulling it back to force her ass up to greet him even more readily.  He pounded into her, his pelvic bones slamming into her ass, their skin slapping together...

His demands pushed through clenched teeth, almost a groan, "Come, bitch....I want you to come...I want to feel you dripping and gushing...I want to hear you scream..." 

And she did just that.  All over his thighs.  And as she did, his hot come exploded into her, mixing with hers to create a thick, creamy mess of her red and swollen pussy.  He let go of her hair and pulled out of her slowly so that he could watch the come spill out of her onto the sheets in front of him.

"Now thank me."

"Thank you, Sir."

"For what?"

"For fucking me, Sir...for making me come...for coming inside of me."

He smacked her ass one more time for good measure, leaving a vibrant, red hand print on her ass.

"Good, girl.  I'll let you free after I have a quick shower."

And there she was, left in the dark, sweaty and dripping with come.  Alone...and vulnerable, knowing full well that if she moved, there would be sweet, beautiful hell to pay.


Wednesday, March 13, 2013


It hung there, unopened, creamy white and expectant in midair.  An unmarked envelope tied to a string over the kitchen counter.

She sat down her work things, piled her keys and purse on the counter, slipped off her blazer and placed it over the dining room chair.

With a smile that betrayed her prudence, she took hold of the envelope and detached it from the string that held it.  Placing her finger under the flap, running it along the length, she split the paper slowly and gently, exposing a folded card, which she dislodged from its encasement and flipped open.

Take off your clothes, right where you are.  Leave them folded, neatly on the counter.  Pour yourself a glass of wine, grab your cell phone, and take them both to the bedroom.  Push play on the CD player, and prop yourself up in the middle of the bed.  Slowly play with yourself - without penetration - while you enjoy your glass of wine.  

I will be watching your every move.

She licked her lips as her cheeks brightened to a hotter shade of pink.  But she placed the note on the counter and proceeded to follow the instructions, almost laughing to herself.  This was all so new...the instructions...the obedience...the possibility of punishment or reward.  

She slipped out of her black pumps, reached her arms behind her back to unzip her sheath dress, and stepped out of it, careful not to leave it in a heap on the floor at her feet.  The folded dress in a neat pile on the counter, the turned her attention to her nylons, peeling them down over her hips and ample rear, rolling them down her thighs, her knees, and finally stepped out of them, placing them beside the folded dress on the counter.  Left in nothing but her plain black bra and panties, she licked her lips, glanced at the bar to consider the wine selection, and finished her disrobing.  Folding her lingerie neatly on top of her dress, she walked to the bar, selected a glass, and poured it half full.  She grabbed her cell phone on her way back through the kitchen and made her way to the bedroom.

As she was told to do, she pressed play on the CD player, and climbed onto the bed.  Placing her wine glass on the nightstand, she began moving pillows around to create a backrest against the headboard.  A second envelope was hidden beneath the last one.

Once again, she smiled, a bit sheepishly, as she slid her finger under the flap and released its contents.

Place your phone beside you and wait for my texts.  Light a candle, enjoy the music and the wine.  But mostly, enjoy yourself.  Remember, are not to penetrate your opening.  It must remain untouched for me.

She lit the candle on the nightstand, placed her phone on the bed, turned off the light, closed the door, and found her way to the middle of the bed.  Situating herself, she took her wine glass into her left hand, and let her right hand slide between her bent and spread legs.

With her finger circling her clitoris, slowly keeping time with the music, she took a long sip of her wine and began to wonder just how he could be watching her.  A camera?  She glanced around the room, letting her eyes linger in places that looked suspect.  No rustling or breathing emanated from the closet, so he couldn't be spying on her from there.

The phone began to vibrate, and the screen lit up with a text notification icon.

She took her hand away from herself and tapped the text button, leaving a trace of moisture on the screen that made her bite her lip and giggle silently to herself.

Keep your mind on what you are doing.  Stop worrying about where I am.

She flushed at the reprimand and placed her hand back between her legs.  Like a good girl, she closed her eyes, took another swallow of wine, and worried about nothing but pleasuring herself.

Swirling her fingers, rubbing her entire palm across the heat of her sex, grinding the pad of her thumb into her clit.  She grew wet with desire and began to squirm, her wine sloshing in the glass, dangerously close to spilling over the edge.  A whimper collected in the back of her throat, releasing to the tone of the cell phone's vibration.

Not yet.  Slow down.  I didn't tell you that you could come.

She sighed and rolled her eyes like a petulant child, pouting.  A whispered expletive escaped her mouth and was met by a third vibration from her phone.

Is that a bit of an attitude I sense?  Apparently someone needs a little discipline.  Put the blindfold on and roll on to your stomach in the middle of the bed.  Spread your arms and legs wide.

She did as she was told.  Expectant and nervous.  In the blackness, she heard the front door open and close, heavy footsteps crossing the living room floor, into the kitchen.  She held her breath, unintentionally, as the bedroom doorknob turned and the door squeaked as it opened.  Cold fingers slid across her back, down her spine, and then...

The swooshing sound was quick, but she braced herself knowing what would follow.  the crack of his palm meeting with the skin of her behind reverberated - echoing in the room.  She winced and whimpered a little.

"It is early, yet..." he said.  "There are so many things I want to do to you."

She heard the clicking of a suitcase or briefcase being opened...the clinking of metal...and then felt the icy sensation of it pressing against her skin...

To be continued...

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Sex in the Alcove

Heels clicking erratically
on the cold, uneven sidewalk,

you guided me
-our arms linked-
towards the next bar.

Passing the recessed entryway
to the Department of
Health and Human Services,

I suggested, jokingly,
that we fuck
beneath the flickering naked bulb
in the alcove.

I giggled, girlishly--
a tease.
But, you pushed me
the glowing grotto.

I wriggled out of your grasp,
and we moved on.

Every time I pass that
enclosed entrance,
I am reminded
of the possibility.

The Wicked Wednesday prompt this week was "?+?=?".  My interpretation is "Alcohol + Desire = Stupid Sexual Suggestions".  Seriously, I've said it before, I live in one of those communities and have one of those jobs where every public thing I do is under scrutiny.  I can only imagine the scandal that would blossom if I were to be arrested for public indecency.  And even though I really am too chicken to have sex in a public place, the allure of the possibility of being caught exists in the back of my psyche.

This is also a continuation of the TMI Tuesday Bonus Question:  "Tell us about a time you were tempted.  Did you give in or resist?"  As you can see, I resisted.  But, I smile every time I pass that alcove, even though it looks suspiciously like has often been used as a prime choice for drunken urination.  Ew.  Noticing that not only usually wipes the dirty little smile off my face, but it also makes me glad that I didn't ever press my naked ass up against that cold, metal door.  Some things are better left to the imagination.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Sacrifices & Temptation

I actually wasn't planning to post for TMI Tuesday this week because I've been busy and wanted to simply relax.

I also got a new book I was hoping to begin in the bath:

I plan to review it when I am done...Thanks, Cleis Press, for sending me a review copy!  It's like Christmas every time I get a big manila envelope from you guys! I as saying, I wasn't going to submit (ha, ha) today, but...I'm easy like that -

1.  What did you give up for Lent?  Nada.

2.  What, sexually, could you never give up?  Cock.

3.  What act (I'm assuming "sexual") would you like to do for 40 days and 40 nights?  Well, assuming that my body didn't give up on me...have sex.  Does it need to be more specific than that?  I'm a simple girl really, and I can't think of anything, really, that would be better than sex.  I mean...I like giving blow jobs, but would I really want to do that for 40 days and 40 nights?

4.  What sexual sacrifice have you made?  Well, not that I've actually had to do it yet, but...I'm supposed to ask if I can masturbate now.  Mr. LL is thoroughly enjoying his ever-thickening dominant role...and after a few spankings and throwing some orders around, he has requested that I call or text or ask in person before I let my hands or toys anywhere near my sweet spot.  Sigh.  I'm too honest to cheat.  But, I'm also a bit out of my element in my new role - and asking feels a bit silly.  Of course, I'll come around.  I'll have to - because, while I may be willing to sacrifice my freedom to get off whenever I want, I will not be able to resist temptation for long.  I'll break down and beg for permission...soon.

5.  Have you ever been tied to a cross or anything else?  Not that I remember.  But I have been tied to myself - meaning...I've been tied up, secured, unable to move.

6.  What part of your body do you like to be worshipped?  My skin. that too vague?  Because, really, that's my choice.

7.  What can your partner do that makes you feel pure bliss?  He can make me squirt.  He's the only man that's ever been able to do it, and when he does, I literally melt all over the bed.

8.  Bonus:  Tell us about a time you were tempted?  Did you give in...or resist temptation?  Actually...I'm going to carry this question over to tomorrow's Wicked Wednesday post (the prompt is ? + ? = ?).

To be continued...