An experiment this fine Sunday…
I know many readers have enjoyed my boy’s writing, and I thought it would be interesting to invite you to ask him questions (actually, it was his idea… soon he will be taking over this blog!). So, if you are curious enough to wonder about him, now’s your chance to prod and poke at him… (c’mere, baby, it won’t hurt a bit…).
To kick this off, I thought I would start by asking him a question of my own:
How do you feel about being the subject of writing in this blog?
I’ve … Continue Reading
I don’t want ‘play’, the pretty, the tools, the toys, the games, the amusement, the cute, the acts, the implements, the controlled, the measured give and take, the things.
I want violence, force and shoving and slapping and tearing at flesh and smashing you to the ground and not giving a fuck about you. I want fear and helplessness and tears and surrender and panic and animal lust. I want growling and screaming and grunting and gasping for breath. I want that fucking violence, that desperation, that grabbing selfish need, messy and passionate and out of control.
I miss … Continue Reading
They go to a caning workshop, sit on the comfortable couch, touching gently, watching the woman in leather deftly wield the instruments, listening intently to her explanations as she demonstrates her craft.
She strokes his puppy head, he shifts closer to touch more of her, she leans into him now and then to whisper about what they are seeing. She had never been so interested in canes, she is not a sadist (she sees him smile at that, a soft, amused ‘yes Ma’am’ wanting to trip off his tongue, she shushes him and continues…), she is not a sadist, so … Continue Reading
Welcome to the first edition of e[lust]
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This week’s top three picks as chosen by fellow e[lust] participants:
I am sunken low and depleted, for reasons, these reasons, those reasons, the other reasons, all of which bore even me. My boy is charming me, being cute and funny and papering over the widening cracks with tenderness.
He writes, bolstering me during the tedious day with email after email full of kindnesses and beauty. He ends one with:
“I miss you Ma’am and again I’m thinking about you sweetheart…”
The ‘sweetheart’ (sweetheart!) is unlike him, a terrible powerful sweetness, he is wrapping me up to care for me, pulling me into him, petting me gently, letting me know I … Continue Reading
There were only four questions from last week’s Sunday curiosity… so how did this post end up being so long? Discuss.
dan englishman said…
What is your first dominant memory? My submissive memory involves a girl next door, both of us too young to be playing anything more than show and tell…her persuading me to go first, manipulates the situation…i give in, show her what she wants to see and she ran off and told her mum what i had done. The bitch. Still brings a smile out remembering the confused, humiliating, angry emotions. Being chastised by her mum … Continue Reading
This is my boy’s version of Marking territory, thank you baby.
She and I will separate tomorrow morning, so kneeling in the bathtub in front of her, while she showers, I want to be slapped, to get stunned out of the depression I feel already creeping up on me. Sometimes when I am kneeling and move to kiss her body, to slip my tongue into her, she will hold my head and position me just so, in preparation to slap my face, and now I move to do so, kissing gently, offering her my face, her head and … Continue Reading