I will expect respect, though I am not to be feared.
So, off you go to http://uslove.com/ - or call 949 999-5900 and do tell them Saffron sent you (it's my middle name). I am extension 611.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
I submitted - Wanting to Be Wanted
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #152? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.
This Week’s Picks
Help, My Friend Says I Have an Ugly Vagina!
“Say no to vagina prejudice!”
“Kiss My Boots.”
“One of the more unexpected hairpin turns I navigated in my “Coming Out” into BDSM involved a series of moments that were deceptively simple, perhaps even innocent, in a way.”
“I felt and then heard a low rumble of a slightly sadistic chuckle from him.”
Mr. Sugasm Himself
Sass And The Sadist
Join the Sugasm
See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Oh, the point of this post... I just got re-tagged by the sweet and naughty Vixen. Who missed my first 7 random facts clearly and doesn't know about my threesome with the identical twins who I did fuck & suck, or my use of the battery operated toothbrush to tickle my pussy, or... no, can't fit the word cock in this sentence, sorry. Digressing again.
(For those wondering on the use of the random dirty words, I got the rudest little email from some shitty little boy/man about how I was an ok writer but needed to use more dirty words... so, here you go darling... even though this post is about 7 things I learned when adding links for music I like to my blog, dirty words just for you, fucker. And I don't care what you say, I will not use the word cunt... ever... ok, for those of average intelligence, irony... which isn't a dirty word.)
So, since I already posted the rules to this game of tag and my 7 tagged friends (which was really 8) on my post... Tag... Sure I Would Love to Play... I will just get on with the 7 random facts.
Things I figured out when posting a link list of music I like over there ----->>
- I like acoustic guitar and mandolins. I never considered this before, but now realize this as 52% of those songs include that acoustic sound (no, I didn't acutally check the math). That said a mandolin is a unique sounding little instrument that must be used in moderation.
- Most of the songs on my list would be consider fodder for Oldies stations. And more than a few were popular significantly before I was of any age to even make music choices, and some before my birth. And still I am drawn to them. I wonder of the music psychology of that?
- I have the albums for 92% of these songs. But it just about exhausted my album inventory to come up with this list. The point is, I really don't buy a lot of music. But for all of these I like all the music by these artists and in searching for these songs, the related links of most all could have made my list as well.
- #3 leads me to my music shame, I do not own any sort of portable MP3 device and have never downloaded a song to make it mine, and don't know how. I am sorry G, I know you are more than disappointed in this shame of my life.
- While I only have two classical songs on my list I listen to classical music almost every day for 22 minutes a day on my drive home. I just makes me peaceful and calm after working all day for an asshole (hey, another dirty word).
- I am mundane when it comes to music. Probably 3/4 of these were on the Billboard top something list in their day, the definition of popular I would think most could agree. And most of these songs have a similar feel and sound. Nearly all are understandable/sing-out-loudable, and I believe that is because I like the poetry of the words. But, I will listen to anything someone offers to have me hear or wants to share. And I love the rhythms of music in many forms.
- I put this list there on the sidebar to make me happy. I like listening to music while I write and lately this is where I write. So if you like something I put there, nice... but not everything is about you.
- Ok... one extra... Jump, Jive an' Wail is on the list as Hubby and I took West Coast Swing dance lessons. Yes, I can dance too.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The deep rhythms of his voice touch me. First he touches me here, at my breast, where skin is soft and slopes down and sweeps up and culminates in gathering points of sensitive flesh that beg for not so gentle fingers. I give him all the use of mine.
His voice reaches me from where he lays and where I am. Waves upon waves of sensation from him to me, from mouth to ear to body's reaction. And hands touch what voice touches. Down and down the soft curving swell of belly to thigh, then up again. His voice soothes and excites and leaves me breathless for the wanting of more. Eyes closed, lips parted, breath quick and fast. My fingers reach this swollen parted needy place, I ache for the wanting to be touched more and more. And touch he does, those waves reach me and push me higher and higher. And waves pull back and pull me under and make the breathing near to impossible and the timbre is full of rounded vowels and soft consonants but the strength of the sound of his voice pushing me, pulling me is undeniable.
And his words make me weak with wanting and again I need more and more. And so I beg, no easy thing, and that leaves me vulnerable, please more and more. But oh, dear god, I want from these words he offers and I take. And so the touches grow and the words grow, deeper, fuller, thicker. And he sees and I hear and we find pleasure together. Yes and aye and more and there and now and oh, dear god. And in the end it is the deep rhythms of his words that take me and cause the waves to crash over me and I do drown in all waves of deep and rhythmic sound, but only just a little death. Sigh.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
So hey... I got tagged by nibblybits69 on her fun blog - Between the Pages of the Book - which I am going to add to my blogroll since she was kind enough to invite me to play. (Such a strange playground don't you think?)
- Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
- Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.
- Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog.
- Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog
So... in no particular order...
- I lost my virginity at 15 (wait, I already shared that here on my blog)... I lost my virginity in my bedroom (shared that too)... I lost my virginity in missionary position, but before he finished I had managed to get on top and found that so much more enjoyable (ok, that one is new and kind of telling about me).
- I wear sandals (usually flip-flops) to work almost every day of the year. Heck it is Southern California. Even when it is cold... it isn't.
- I once had a threesome with identical twin brothers. Started out playing a game of Truth or Dare, always a naughty game if you have been drinking and those two men you are drinking with are really identically cute and really identically naughty.
- I keep an battery powered toothbrush in my car for emergencies. Masturbation emergencies. Sometimes you simply must have an orgasm.
- I make the world's best Snickerdoodle cookies. This isn't a subjective thing... mine are the best.
- My gay Methodist minister Uncle (and I only mention the gay part because I think it is so cool that he is gay and find it quite a bit funny the little old ladies of the congregation of his church, which is deep in the conservative heartland of America, that keep setting him up with their nieces and granddaughters can't figure out why he can't be caught in their marriage traps) married Hubby and me on New Year's Eve at midnight in our back yard under the thousands of twinkly lights that Hubby spent hours stringing up from the house to the fence. The wedding cost us $1,817.00 (OMG we were so poor at the time) and was the most beautiful wedding ever. I walked down the aisle to Pachelbel's Canon in D Major which makes me cry every time I hear it (and it did before my wedding too).
- Hubby says that I have written enough now and it is time to have sex... gotta climb on top... oh, which I know ties back to #1 but you know when writing an essay (which this really isn't but still sort of works) "It is important to restate the thesis and supporting ideas in an original and powerful manner as this is the last chance the writer has to convince the reader of the validity of the information presented. " ... So this #7 fact is really the fact that I am about to have sex in 5... 4... 3... 2... now.
...17 minutes later...Yea!! Have I mentioned I love morning sex. Yummy... I suppose that could be another fact, or maybe a subparagraph to #7... Subparagraph B, Item 2, subsection 2c... Honey LOVES morning sex.
I am tagging...
Perfect Lips (I tried twice to post this tag as a comment on your blog, doesn't seem to be working... so I know you read here... tag you are it too.)
Sophie In Lace (Yes, sophie makes 8, but I want her to play too)
- About what, where and why of a tattoo or piercing.
- What is one thing a year ago you said you would never do and now you do.
- What is it you fear?
If you would like to Tell Me anything else the older Tell Me's.... are over there linked on the side bar answer all you like ------>>>
Friday, October 24, 2008
Middle English, from Middle French, from Latin Musa, from Greek Mousa
1capitalized : any of the nine sister goddesses in Greek mythology presiding over song and poetry and the arts and sciences
2: a source of inspiration ; especially : a guiding genius
Those that share with me in a submissive way become muse to me (I will not be capitalizing the Muse as although I have shared some religious experiences have yet to meet a true God or an imortal Goddess, well that one time, but might have been the fever). They are a source of inspiration for my writing. They share with me their thoughts, ideas, creativity. They don't just do what I say like robots completing steps of instructions offered to them as if in computer code. But rather they bring nuance to what I create in their completion of it, what I desire and make it their own in that sharing. Their ideas inspire me, we chat and talk and laugh. Their fears inspire... "What about this?" I am asked... "Will this be ok?" When the real question is... "Will you judge me poorly?" And these questions feel so entirely personal and yet wholly universal. We all worry about being accepted, about approval and the pleasing of another.
Each time I am approached on chat it can be a muse that reaches out to me. A simple question asked like, "Do you like bondage?" Or a statement, "I love to be spanked." Might cause my gears and wheels to spin. Or even the vanilla conversations can bring the need for clarity in my own thoughts and that may lead to some inspiration that must be written.
And of course there is my love of sports. Do you think LT and darling Phillip Rivers are my muse as well? Well Hubby was inspired to take pictures last Sunday as I wore my Rivers jersey. And perhaps that little peek of cheek was muse-like... inspiration for some thoughts for someone out there. (A bit of ego perhaps, but come on... it is a cute picture.)
I have been sad this past week as the severing of my D/s relationship with marie has come to pass. I have written quite a bit about that in my personal journals. For some of the best writing comes from these darker places. And while I may not share it all here for public consumption the writing has been cathartic. And there too the inspiration for poetry that makes my heart and soul weep.
So please... do comment if something I say causes you inspiration. For to deny me my muse-ness for you would be a shame. I hope I touch you on occasion with my thoughts and ideas and feelings. I hope you will share and be a muse, an inspiration to me. It is a lovely circle of creation that we bloggers share. I am honored you take the time to read me as I so love to read you.
Now go out and be a muse, or find a muse or even a Muse. Be inspiring and inspired.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
This scent Vulva (the name is on the box there just in front of their... boxes) and website - Smellmeand.com was shared with by a friend on my Ohhh... the Scent of Her post (thank you sophie).
My curiosity is this. I am a woman. And I have a healthy, clean who-who (fuzzy, pussy, vulva, vajayjay... or any other name you want except for that C one... can we just avoid that one), so I am wondering why I would need a scent to make me smell like a woman? I kind of do I think... smell like a woman. Of course it does say.... "the erotic, intimate scent of an irresistible woman".... maybe that is it, they are playing on our womanly insecurities. Hmmm... bastards.... men must have had a hand in that line.
But I really think their marketing campaign is focused in the entirely wrong direction. And I think some of the delightful sissy gurls who I know come and visit me here would be their target demographic. I mean you are creating a scent that makes someone smell like a woman (and I have not actually smelled this product so I am entirely unsure about it... this is no endorsement). So advertising for those who desire to be woman for a bit or for 24/7 but genetically weren't blessed with the power of a pussy might be just the buyers they should seek.
I am curious if anyone has used this product? Does it smell like a girl... a girl in the throes of passion, a girl just freshly showered, or just freshly fucked? I need to know, but really don't need to spend the money.
Oh, who am I talking to... you all are still looking at the picture.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Read Chapter 2
Read Chapter 3
Read Chapter 4
Read Chapter 5
Read Chapter 6
My hands weren't bound but I still kept my arms linked behind my back, each hand clinging tightly to the opposite wrist as she had told me. A blindfold covered my eyes so that Miss Natalie could have privacy from my shameful glances at her beautiful, perfect body. I knelt in the middle of the room, Miss Natalie's room now really, as she had told me every moment she allowed me to stay I should be thankful to her. I was. My knees were spread wide, my back straight, head bowed and between my thighs was my Slut Exposer.
Miss Natalie had given it to me, she had made it with her own hands because she wanted me to learn the lessons of my shameful body. My Slut Exposer had started out as a beautiful pure white candle. It was so big Miss Natalie's hand couldn't even go all the way around it when she first brought it back to the room and it was tall, sitting on the floor it was as tall as, well as tall as my slut hole is from the floor when I am on my knees. With a small knife she had shaped it that day, just two days after she had tied me, shaved me, cleaned me and I had shamed myself against her delicate fingers. Even now remembering that moment I could hardly breathe.
Miss Natalie had taken the candle and the knife and began to whittle away that day. The shavings had flown here and there as she did so and she told me to pick them up one by one on my knees and one by one to throw them in the trash can in the corner while she worked on this special project that would help me be the perfect girl who she could love. Just hearing those words the hope in them made me happy. She had said she was making me a present so I was eager to do this small chore for her. She had said that me being on my knees while I did the picking up would make me realize that she was still so much better, so much more pure than me and that I should want to do such menial things for her. She was right, I wanted to do anything to make her happy, pleased with me. Each time I picked a piece of wax candle up and shuffled on my knees to the trash and dropped it in I saw my wadded up flannel nightgown there, I knew she was right about so many things. She had told me now I would wear only underwear, panties Miss Natalie preferred they be called, with a gaping hole cut out in the front so Miss Natalie could see if my slut hole was growing hair again. My breast were left uncovered so that Miss Natalie could pinch my nipples hard if she felt I wasn't paying attention properly to her. Miss Natalie said she would just have to accept and live with this exposure of my slutty body no matter how distasteful for now as it was her duty to help me, God and Poppa wanted it, and I knew she was so very right.
Slowly the candle that she now called my Slut Exposer took shape between her lovely hands. She tapered it to a rounded point with her knife then she lit the tip and let it burn for just a little bit. When there was a very small pool of melted wax she went and got something from underneath her bed. It was small and pink, about the size of a wren's egg and had a wire running to it from a little box. She pushed the little tiny egg shaped thing into the cooling wax and blew on it. Oh, her lips looked so pretty blowing on that. I just stopped where I was on my knees there so close to her and watched. The shaved wax on the floor forgotten, my exposed body forgotten as I watched her blow so gently on that candle and little pink egg. She looked up at me and smiled as I stared and I blushed yet again at being caught staring at her, my Miss Natalie. Then she reached out and grabbed a hold of my nipple and twisted and told me to finish cleaning my mess. I could feel that pain from my nipple run down my body right to the place my right where my panties no longer covered me and felt the moisture begin to seep. Miss Natalie would smell this soon. Oh, the shame of it. Lost in my own badness and trying to make her happy by hurrying to finish picking up every little scrap of wax I didn't see her wind the cord around the candle after she carved the word SLUT vertically down one side and carved a cross on the other side.
“Slut,” she had said a little later. I turned and looked at her. She had put the candle on the floor in the middle of the room. “Slut, come here let me see if you are bad right now.” I knew what she would find. Just her telling me to come to her so she could put her fingers there, slide them between my now almost always swollen lips made my slut hole wet and wetter and wetter still. And yes, that was what she found, her standing there, me kneeling there that white candle with my name, SLUT written on it between us. “Slut, this is the Exposer. My Slut Exposer. I have made it for you because I want you to be good and to be good girl you will have to learn to control your body. Each day from now until you have learned my lessons you will kneel here in my room with the Slut Exposer between your legs. You will set this timer for fifteen minutes and get into position.” She turned the little dial on the kitchen timer to the big 15 and it began to softly tick. A tick I would grow to love and to dread. “Get into position now.” I moved so that this thing was between my thighs it was just a fraction of an inch below my slut hole. “No, spread your knees wider. It needs to touch you. To split that naughty part of you that I will control.” I did, it did, I moaned, she smiled. “Yes, that is perfect. I measured you last night while you slept all bound.” She touched my thigh as she said this and my body trembled at her touch. “Now, each day after your last class you will immediately come here and put your Slut Exposer on this spot in the middle of the room and then turn on this button.” She switched on the little button at the base of the candle and the little tiny egg at the tippy top, the one that was just grazing my slut hole began to... to... vibrate. I lost my breath. I had never felt anything like this. It was, amazing. I moaned.
"Please, Miss Natalie?" I didn't really know what my question was just I felt so unsure in that moment.
“Yes, see already it is working," she said to me or herself, clearly she was pleased and that was enough for me to hold onto. She continued talking, "See it is even now exposing you for the slut we both know you are. It is simple really. You will fight this wicked pleasure and not let your body do what it did when I cleaned you the other night. You know that feeling now. That is what you must fight. You must not allow that feeling to over take you again. If it does, you will add 5 minutes to your time. If I am here and see you add those minutes I will put one of these,” she showed me a thick piece of cardboard, I saw now she had a small stack of them each about a foot square on her desk. “I will put one underneath the candle and it will rise and rise filling your slut hole. If I am not her you will put the wedge under yourself. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Miss Natalie.” I whispered.
“Good. Now I have a paper to write. Be quiet while I do so.” And she turned her back to me. It had been nearly forty-five minutes that first time before she had shown me mercy and let me crawl away from my Slut Exposer.
Every day since I had come back to the room. Every day I failed and the Slut Exposer won. Every day Miss Natalie sighed as she allowed me at last to pull the Slut Exposer from myself, keeping a finger pressed firmly to the spot where it had filled me. Where the bottom of my wet swollen lips rested against the pure white of my Slut Exposer. She would have me come to her, my head down in shame, my cheeks flushed, my body trembling still from all that wanton behavior. She would measure that depth it had been inside me, how deeply it had filled me. Each inch added to my shame. The little chart on the wall added to my shame. Miss Natalie sighing and telling me to get away from her and wash myself added to my shame.
And now, five days later I was again here in the middle of the room. Three times already it had, exposed me for the slut I really am. I was trying to be better, but it just felt so... so... oh, please Miss Natalie good. That is how I thought of it now as every time I felt myself give in to this wickedness I would beg her, “Oh, please Miss Natalie.” And now I felt the feeling begin to rise again in me. I knew any moment now I would be lost and face another turn on the timer, another raising of this invader deeper into me still. Its width flaring out from the point would stretch my slut hole, make it ache even more, and yet the feeling of that stretching filling me more and more it just felt, oh so good. That little egg would be even deeper inside me vibrating, forever vibrating, for each day I had to put in fresh batteries as Miss Natalie said a slut like me was wearing them out and if it quit it wouldn't remind me of my slutty ways. Yes, there it was I could feel it, it was so close, that feeling I was supposed to stop and just never could. My breath came faster and faster. I saw stars behind that blindfold, I bit my lip until I could taste the blood and then, I just gave in. I just accepted the wicked pleasure as I could no longer fight it.
“Oh, please Miss Natalie. Please.” And I still did not know what it was I was begging her for as the trembling, tightening, ecstasy flooded my mind and body. I was yet again exposed the slut that Miss Natalie could never love.
To be continued...
Monday, October 20, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
San Diego Chargers at Buffalo
Ok... the score is 7-3 right now for my boys in blue and we are nearing halftime. This is an important game and Buffalo is looking pretty strong. Do you think this wearing of my Rivers jersey (which I LOVE) will bring any luck to my San Diego team?
If anything maybe my friends in other countries might learn to appreciate American football a bit more with this offering. I do what I can for international relations.
Game over 1:00 p.m. California Time...
Final score -
San Diego 14 - Buffalo 23
Oh... Rivers, such a not pretty game my boy (and I posted this for you, but I am no fair-weather fan and still am wearing my jersey). The three turn overs just hurt us beyond repair, especially that interception in our end zone when we would have had the go ahead score was just so bad. Defense just wasn't rushing the passer, our defesive backs weren't marking their recievers which left us so vulnerable to those short passes. Oh... well... such is sports. Any given Sunday, baby.
They had a fun little gadget on the website - http://www.zackandmiristarid.com/ - where you could make your own Porn ID to wear to the movie. I love the different options of my porn name from their silly questions. If you go and make one... would love to know your porn name.
But I thought perhaps I would offer one of my task that I have posted there here. This is a writing task and so thought it might inspired some of my readers to be writers as well. And I do LOVE a good naughty bit of erotica. So... I offer to you to...
I believe it is in the exploration of our darkest fantasies that the experiences of sexual sharing can be heightened. For knowing what you desire can help you find what you want to more fully delve into. One of the ways in which we can explore those fantasies is by searching deep within ourselves and expressing them through writing. And I so enjoy a good very dirty story. This Task a bit of a place for you to go into depth to explore more of your sexuality.
Task – Write a 1000-3000 word story in which you share your darkest fantasy. Take a bit of time and think about what you want to happen to you. I want a fantasy that you would actually be willing to do should the right circumstances arise. This situation can be highly unlikely to occur, but, should all the planets align, it should be something you would follow through. What turns you on the most? Come up with a scene in which your fantasy can play out. I don't just want a description of your fantasy but rather you to create a story (beginning, middle and end) in which your darkest fantasy is woven into your words. Describe in detail the sights and sounds, the smells, your emotions. Make it real for you and it will be real for me. Write your story in 1st person. First person means using the pronoun I rather than he or she for the narrator. This makes it more immediate and personal. Make your story past tense… as if it has already happened. Don’t forget to spell check and read it out loud to self edit.
Example – I knew that Karen wanted me when she moved up against me at the party. She leaned in close to me, her breath teasing against my neck. My heart beat wildly as she whispered into my ear a suggestion that I never before had dreamed possible. It seemed to be only a moment later when I had her tied, spread eagle on the bed with a whip in my hand….
But there is a little more to this than just writing... write your story on the computer and print it out, make the text small enough that it fits on one or two pages. Fold your printed story in half, and then in half again and again at least 5 times until you have a small rectangle, then put a small rubber band around your folded piece of paper to keep it closed up tight. Now take your story and plant it. Dig a shallow hole under a tree that you walk by every day. You don't have a tree in your yard? Don’t have a yard? Okay, plant it under a houseplant or a flower in your flower box outside your window. The point is to put it under a living thing that you see everyday as if you whispered your secret to the world. Yes, I know you will be sharing your secret story with me, but I accept you for the naughty girl or boy you are. What about the rest of the world, for many of you, they don’t know your darkest fantasies, what you really are deep inside. But what a rush to tell if you really could.
Offering to me– After completing this Task you will email your story to me... you can find my email there on my sidebar ----->>. Then in the comments of this post offer up your experiences completing this task. Did you really have to search deep for your fantasy story, or have you had the same story inside you forever? Did you consider reading your fantasy story to someone close to you before you buried it? What did burying it represent to you? Was it freeing, a kind of letting go? Or did it show how much you hide of yourself? Have you walked past where you buried your story since? How does it feel knowing it is there... like a part of you waiting for someone to find?
If you have a blog you may certainly post your story there, and I would love for you to add to the comments here, where you will tell me of the experience of doing as I offer to you, your link to your story on your blog so we all can share. I will not be posting any of the fantasies offered to me by email on my blog as I know for some of you they are very private, I will leave that to you who have a blog to do if you so desire.
Have fun with this and I look forward to hearing from you soon if you decide to share with me a dark secret.
I have offered this reply there, but wanted to make it public here on my blog so that all would know how much love and care I have for her and how much I know she will succeed...
It was such a sad day for me. You have been all I could have ever wanted in a submissive and so much more. A friend you will always be. An inspiration of strength and grace. A woman who is so brave and adventurous. Someone who made me smile so often.
You are on a new path now. But I know you are not alone. I see even now all the friends gathering with you as you have been there for them on so many occasions.
We learned so much together, me as much from you as you did from me. That is a beautiful thing. I know you are ready for this change and it will be a wonderful thing to continue to watch someone I love and admire be everything incredible she desires to be.
I know already there are some probably seeking out your domination sweet Miss Marie. And that will be an interesting thing to see happen should you decide to let them kiss your pretty toes. And remember, you make them wait as they should on their knees.
I am proud of you, I am honored to be your friend. I will love you for all that is beautiful in you for always.
Hugs and sweet kisses,
Saturday, October 18, 2008
- Giving or receiving, which do you prefer?
- About losing your virginity.
- When and how did you first begin masturbating?
Friday, October 17, 2008
A wonderful time on Thursday night. Met two great new friends and luring Hubby farther to the naughty side by this. We talked Catholic School girl fantasies and the need for a quality ruler, we talked spanking, we talked plasma cutters and lathes. I drank a little too much (three glasses of wine) for a work night, but not too bad. I really wasn't nervous at all once we walked in the door. There was a major snafu before we left when I couldn't find my new gorgeous black push up bra, but I don't think I suffered too much loss of assets. Oh, and the shoes... I think they served me well... felt so confident slippling them on and tieing those cute laces.
We will be doing this again in a month. This getting together in a public place where all are welcome who want to come and chat. Will post details here and on fetlife.com for time and place. Thank you to all my friends who gave me advice and a hard time for this first venture out into the world of possibilities and adventure.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
She told him to get on his knees and put the leather collar around his neck to symbolize his willingness to do all she said. She didn't need to look to know he had done as she had told. There was no question in it, a simple demand and he would comply. She led, he followed. Each step on this path was her choice, each step he took with her was a gift given and a gift received.
She said to pull down his pants and the panties he had worn all day, light baby pink, and show her his cock. He did so with ragged breath coming faster and she knew his desire was at a peak as his hands trembled to do as she demanded. The others that come before her had tried to lead, had him dance and play and spin in circles round and round until he was dizzy. She could too direct this dance, this reel of give and take, and like a trained pet he would jump through every hoop she put there for him should she wish to play those games. But she wanted more, she wanted it real, tonight she wanted complete surrender. Not games and parlor tricks, but pure lust and wanting for this moment. All of it under her control.
When she tied his hands behind his back he moaned. When she put the blindfold over his eyes he began to shake. When the clamps went on his nipples the moans grew louder, and seemed beyond his control. She knew this, she always knew. When she pushed him back onto the cushions laid there behind him the suddeness of it and the total power she felt made her want to offer her own moans of pleasure.
She stood over him now and took the point of her shoe, the shiny black patent leather four inch heeled shoe he had picked out for just this occasion, and with ever increasing pressure she pressed that shiny point into the base of his cock. He moaned again and she shifted. She moved her foot up so that the sole was against the hard length of him and the sharp point of the stiletto pressed deeper and deeper into the vulnerable softness of his balls. He gasped at this. She smiled at this.
She knew at this moment he hated and craved the blindfold. She knew he wanted to see her as she made him ache. But she also knew he wanted to be lost and just be everything she wanted. She twisted her foot ever so slightly and his breathing came faster now. She eased up a bit and used the side of her foot to rub against the length of him. His swollen cock twitched in response. Then the other side of his cock with the other side of her shoe created a mirrored effect. The precum glistened at the tip of his ridged cock. This too made her smile.
“Please,” was the one word whispered by him. The only word she had allowed this night.
She slipped her silk and lace panties off bringing them out from under her tight pencil straight skirt. They were damp with her own arousal that his gift of submission had done for her. She bent down and held them to his nose and mouth. He breathed in deep, then deeper still. His tongue came out reaching for the bit of silk confection. She let him breath and taste for just the briefest moments, but she knew it was more than enough. Every synapses was firing in his head under her terms. No job, no boss, no right or wrong. No bills, or long commutes or any other mundane detail from that world of worries and responsibilities. None of that mattered any little bit in this moment she knew with certainty. He was lost in this cocoon that she had made. All lust, all desire, all wanting and craving was here and now. He did not have to beg for mercy or for anything more. That one please was all she required.
Panties still in her hand she moved her foot away and wrapped his cock in the silk and lace squeezing tightly. And she stroked, and she stroked... and one last stroke before he gave up all the control she knew he thought he still held on to. He gave it all to her in total surrender there in her hand. And as he did he gave her one more, “Please.” She was so proud he uttered no other words, for punishment in this moment would steal her own pleasure away.
Wet and sticky with all that he had to offer the panties went from cock to mouth. She knew now that passion was spent, this moment was the real test. Not that bound and blindfolded he had many choices, but that he knew to open his mouth and accept this with no hesitation made her beyond aroused.
And she left him like that, and that was when he let the tears fall. Would it be brief moments before she returned, or many long minutes, or maybe even hours? He did not know, he couldn't even begin to care. He was hers. She led, he followed. It was how it was always meant to be.
Monday, October 13, 2008
The power of being wanted is intoxicating. The moment he sighs your name is wickedly delicious. The moment she says, "Please!" and you know that please is everything you want, everything thing you possibly desire can make you breathless.
Nothing is more beautiful in that moment than the person on the other side of that wanting. Nothing would substitute in that time and place and for those magical minutes everything is right. Every word is perfect because it is a gift to you. Every request is granted because nothing can be wrong when this wanting is so right.
Oh, I desire to be wanted. I want no games, no coy little teases. I want him to say, "You are everything I desire. Let me offer my whole self with you." I want her to say, "I can't find the pleasure unless it is for your pleasure. Please, let me be this for you." Too much? Never! As if you don't ask for everything you will get nothing. And I have learned how to ask, how to demand, how to sing a Siren song that brings the Gods to their knees.
Yet this is no game I play for I know it is real hearts, real bodies and minds and souls that are offered to me. And that is a heady thing. I know that for action there is a reaction and so I move with cautious intent as each offering to me is a gift weighted with a responsibility heavy with all that is that wanting.
And I need them to know without me saying every word that my wanting too is a delicate and fragile thing as in wanting you give up control. And that is something that pricks at the me that is Mistress. But without me offering my own wanting there would be no point and I need it all to have a point. And so we dance, we give, we take, we want and we allow the wanting.
And it is everything, and I am pleased.
Just found this bit of flattery.... http://erogarden.blogspot.com/2008/10/wanting.html
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #151? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.
This Week’s Picks
Stolen Time (How exciting... what an honor to be picked!!!)
“The sigh of a kiss that has been too long waiting is a wicked rush.”
Keeping things hot when everything hurts
“While it’s not as fun for him, what I love about those times is how sexy he makes me feel at a time when I probably feel the most worthless as a lover.”
Like lovers do…
“As soon as I got that groove, he felt it. His body started to tense up and tremble.”
Mr. Sugasm Himself
At What Point Have You Crossed The Line?
Join the Sugasm
See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.
See all the entries (and there are some great ones) at Sugasm.com
Saturday, October 11, 2008
I am outgoing and friendly and very sure of myself.
I am a vanilla gal with an every day job and almost grown kids and a hubby.
I am a kinky Mistress with several subs devoted to Me and others who seek me out for various bits of naughty fun.
Yes, I am all of these. And primarily I have shared online. Oh, a little play in the privacy of the bedroom with Hubby (see his pretty pink cheeks several posts below this one). And a bit of real life here and here... very little. But a recent post on FetLife.com struck me as well... something to dive into.
Here is the Thread Post by mala....
Given the vast amount of area covered by the term "Inland Empire" (an area larger than some states) and the absence of any recent posts on the subject of getting a meeting going, I have been wondering if anyone would be interested in smaller, more local meetings. It doesn't have to be anything major, but it'd be nice if it would at least be something. I've certainly been itching to find people willing to brainstorm crazy toy and furniture designs, and I can't imagine I'm the only person who'd like to have an option for conversation without any of the typical restraints required by "normal" society rules. Perhaps even the idea of a fairly regular weekday meeting at some sort of laid back hangout? From what I've seen most of the members here are over 21, so it could even be at a bar instead of the typical places like a coffee shop or, the most generic of all BDSM group meeting locations, Sizzler.
Life is, as they say, what happens while you're busy making plans, so it'd be nice to make the planning short and start doing something. Are people here just too busy to meet, or has there just not been enough motivation and momentum?
So I read that and since I am from the Inland Empire (an area just East of Los Angeles) I really dove in... to the deep end. Here is my reply...
As I have always shared this side of me online I haven't previously sought out any real life avenues. But I think a social thing, just getting together talking, making new friends who are naughty and nice would be terrific. Please God no Sizzler though, I think if you end up in Purgatory that would be the restaurant there.
Weekday evenings, or weekends would be great, nice not too loud bar (and not too dive-ish) would be nice too.
Of course all this makes the shy vanilla side too shy for words, but the outgoing Miss Honey side is ready... (really not a split personality).
Lets say the third Thursday of the month at.... McAlans in Alta Loma (Haven & 210)... 7pm.
Yikes... did I just type that! Ok, I will be the tall blond, with the perfect figure and the killer black leather corset. (No, not really, reddish hair, just a little rounder than I should be, nice smile... but really find me by my toes, look on my blog for latest picture.) I will know you are fun and naughty and kinky and looking for a friend as you will be the one looking at all the girl's toes.
Just for drinks, chatting, and such, not looking to take anyone home. But also not restrained in topics of conversations.
Maybe I will be sitting alone (well Hubby will come with me) for an hour, or maybe 16 new kinky friends will show up. It is an interesting experiment at least. Third Thursday, that is next Thursday, the 16th. Yikes!! Okay, feeling braver now.
Hubby laughed at me when he got home from work today, shook his head and smiled and said, of course he would come with me. Then he kissed me and took me shopping for a new sexy top and new sexy high heals (and you know I must be a bit nervous if I am slipping off the flip flops and putting on heals to impress). So, I am looking at this as an adventure. A way to make new friends and learn more about myself. I am shy, I am outgoing, I am quiet, I am friendly. I am brave. Well today anyway. I will let you know how brave after Thursday night. But come on... it is just drinks at a nice bar. And maybe it will be Hubby and me. Any one else coming??? Any one?
Ye may push me far n lang quine, but my love for yer sence and devotion of yer bod will las lang till the fires die.
Nae lassie fairer or quine divine will shak the roots o my faith.
Fit wie kan I see ya oot, fit wie can I aye mak ye know, fit wie quine can I gie tae yea mair o me than there is noo.
A wifie far awa, ower the sea near tae me, fit lassie I kneel before, fit lassie I give tae ye.
My fair lassie lie, my fair lassie breathe, my fair lassie I wid travel now, to breathe between yer knees.
Gie ye muckle shove, and muckle pull, gie ye hefty roar and pummel more... Gie it unce, gie it twice.... Lassie, fair muckle ride.
Lassie, wid I lie?
I hivnae shaved, I hiv hair quite wild.. kilt raised up, injin fired.... rough n raw, yer arse I'll skelp and mighty me, the bits I've felt... now aff yer arse and turn ye ower..... theres mair o me and mair tae cum.
A timmid creature, timmerous quine, shakiin there, wriithe in time.
Rough n raw, knees scunnered, arse skelped, a heavin hairy arsed celt at yer door....
Arr shift and nooo, nae mair writhin, noo yer mine.
Skelp yer arse, rough yer breast, smelt yer cum , roughed yer chest a northern loon, fae a chilly toon - nae say raw he cannae mak ye swoon.
A jock in skirts, a pantied loon, mair man than maist, when they come doon.
I've teen ye noo, nae mair fight claiming heritage, claim my right.
You skelped arse bit, I just skelped the arse of Wifie Honey.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Well... the sake might have had a bit to do with the lovely warmth spreading through my body. But maybe it is Hubby telling me lovely things about my eyes, my smile, my breasts... yes, he likes my breasts and I like him liking them
So now, time for good sex. But the sushi was good too. Just thought I would share what I did... and what I am about to do tonight.
Gotta go now, cute Hubby butt is now bare and really does need a spanking.
I thought my fellow naughty bloggers would enjoy these computer geek themed panties.Perfect until you get spammed.
(LOL...Ok, that was bad. You have a better one liner for this bit of fun?)
Picture from - http://www.gamegirl.com/
Oh... my dear friend (and wonderful slut) sophie sent me a link to where you can buy these deliciously naughty and geeky panties - jinx.com
Thursday, October 9, 2008
No... it isn't. Go ahead. Just be honest with yourself that you enjoy it. Be honest with the "one" you love - if they will accept it. And yes, I know that for many of you, that can be a big, bigger, biggest IF.
They will think it is wrong. That is what you are thinking isn't it?
Are you sure? Find out for sure. Make a little joke, watch a little something that is like what you like... a picture, a documentary... something. Find out before you come out, of whatever closet you might be lurking in. But, come on now... explore the waters (forgive the mixing of cliche metaphores here), they love you and if this is part of you they may love it. Or at least accept it... whatever the IT is.
YEA!!! You are with someone accepting and loving and possibly willing to be a part of that which you hid for way too long. Celebrate, but go slow. Sharing isn't overwhelming. Give them time and find a way to make this part of your life together. There is no magic answer, but with love and acceptance anything is possible. I am proof. Miss Honey wasn't always Miss Honey.
:( You are with someone closed and uptight and possibly willing to condemn you for that which you hid for way too long. Oh, my poor darling. Well, we all have choices and responsibilities. You have to consider them all. There is no magic answer here either. You may have to keep it hidden for a hundred reasons and for that I weep for you.
But, is it wrong?
No, my darling... my kinky, naughty, friend. No, my boy who likes to be spanked, or likes to dress up in girl's clothes, or who wants to be told, "Get on your knees and show me...", or rubs his cock in Jell-O once a day, or any other kink that makes you happy. No, my girl who likes to tie her breasts, or likes to have three toys in the three holes that feel good to be filled, or likes to be told to do something with that bread stick there on the table in the restaurant, or any other kink that makes you happy. No, it isn't wrong.
But you do need balance. As with anything good, find a balance.
It is not wrong to want what you want. To explore what you desire. It is not wrong to be naughty, or kinky, or to wear those pretty pink panties with the little white bow in the front under your power suit.
Just please be...
Safe - be safe with you, be safe with those whose hearts trust you.
Sane - implies balance, implies legal, implies honest with yourself.
Consensual - no, no, no, no, never, ever, ever, ever any unwilling, under-aged, unknowing victims. And you make sure you consent. Never, ever, ever give up your right to say no and have that respected. (Yes, I know there are some... 24/7 slaves... but even you offered that slavery that 100% control and can take back that offer should you need to should safe and sane lines be crossed.)
So... you have these three, the SSC trilogy, and still can't share, because... he... she... they... will not accept, approve, understand? Come tell me, come show me, come share with me. While I may not offer you all that you need... sometimes just knowing that there is one person who says and means it when they say, "No, it isn't wrong." Makes it all right.
No, it is NOT wrong. And I mean that..... well except you, the one over there, yeah you the one in the polka dots panties and plaid bra. Come on now, you have to follow the rules of fashion, even I can't condone breaking those.
So, do you need to share, do you need a friend. Do you just need someone to hear you say the words? Well, my email is over there on the sidebar ----->>>
(And I know I say I may share here on the site, but if you say, please keep this private, I certainly will.)
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
We were the only ones left. Just him and I. Yes, there was more work to do, but really it could wait. He came to me and stood by the door and gave me... that look. You know the one. A look that says I want you. I need you to come here and be bad with me. It says please, and now, and hurry without begging but with just the perfect amount of silent pleading that makes a heart race.
I got up and walked around my desk and pushed him up against the door that somehow got closed and locked in the time it took me to take those seven steps. The sigh of a kiss that has been too long waiting is a wicked rush. The coming together of bodies that know each other but are denied too many times is euphoria educing. His hands on my hips, my mouth on his mouth, our tongues tentative and exploring all at the same time. Explore, yes that is the word, hands explore, mouths explore, hips explore all the possibilities that this which is forbidden and taken allows.
When did the pants come off? When did parts get slick and parts get hard? When did we allow all that we only fantasized become reality? In this moment. This moment when I was bent over the edge of the desk with legs spread just so and he murmured so nicely that my ass was the perfect ass. In this moment when tongue explored that slick and sweet part of me and my back arched allowing access and more access and more access. That was the moment of surrender or defeat or victory of battle we didn't even know we were fighting but surely we were losing.
And then one hard part slipped inside one slick, wet, hot aching part and the sigh came without even being called forth. It just was delicious. A perfect rhythm that was so easy and so wrong and so right. And then to the sofa, him there, me there. My thighs atop his thighs, his hands on hips, on breasts, squeezing, touching, pinching, pleasing. And I rocked and I raised and pushed up and down and back and forth. Oh, to be this sweet for this time when time was not even an option and was stolen.
Then mouth finished what needed to be done because that really was for the best. And that moment came of no return and the pulse of life and surrender and victory was mine to control, mine to give and take and take I did. And give he did and sigh we did and one more kiss until the clock on the wall said that was all the time I will allow you to take from me. And so we parted as we came together with barely a glance for each had to hide the secret again.
Visit - Stolen Time As Read By - If you would like to hear this read by me.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Ok, here is a bit of an indulgence, go on treat yourself, especially if you are sneaking on at work. I was browsing a few blogs and found this link. I LOVE this web series. The website for all 13 webisodes is ImaginaryBitches.com. Episode 9 is particularly funny and sexy.
October is breast cancer awareness month. Visit this wonderful site, Boobie-thon and donate or put up a picture of your boobies. There is still time to share your rack and raise money and awareness. My boobies are up to be viewed in support of this worthy cause.... and in support of all things boobie... here they are as well. Only look though if you promise to do a self-breast exam, or encourage someone you love to do so. This topic shouldn't make anyone blush, it is too important.
Every woman... dominant, submissive, naughty, nice, vanilla or tapioca... needs to do regular self-breast exams and get mamograms when age appropriate. I want every man & woman who comes here to visit me... yeah you... to click on this site The Breast Cancer Site to be more educated and make sure to protect your beautiful self or someone-you-love's beautiful self.
- Every two minutes a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer.
- One woman in eight who lives to age 85 will develop breast cancer during her lifetime.
- Breast cancer is the leading cause of death in women between the ages of 40 and 55.
- Seventy percent of all breast cancers are found through breast self-exams. Not all lumps are detectable by touch. We recommend regular mammograms and monthly breast self-exams.
- Eight out of ten breast lumps are not cancerous. If you find a lump, don't panic-call your doctor for an appointment.
- Mammography is a low-dose X-ray examination that can detect breast cancer up to two years before it is large enough to be felt.
- When breast cancer is found early, the five-year survival rate is 96%. This is good news! Over 2 million breast cancer survivors are alive in America today.
Go on... feel yourself up right now. It is for a very worthy cause. YOU! :)
Sunday, October 5, 2008
After chatting for quite a bit I needed to say goodbye to another friend, also online (multi-tasking at its finest.) So I said this to the new friend who had written me into his fantasy as the stern Mistress to wait while I did so...
Him (10/4/2008 5:59:29 PM): shall I be quiet for a while?
Miss Honey (10/4/2008 5:59:39 PM): just sit there with your hands held behind your back... as if cuffed.
My demand was purely spontaneous and inspired by his previously shared fantasy. I don't often just throw out orders when chatting, especially during a first conversation. But it seemed appropriate under all the circumstances. What was special about this small exchange was the conversation that followed when I came back to resume the chat. The man shared with me his pleasure at being told what to do. His sensations of submission, fear, desire from these few words.
I so appreciated his honesty in sharing these thoughts and feelings with me. I know it wasn't easy, both doing what he was told and sharing himself with me. As I said, he is shy. But I really enjoyed it... just a few words and he gave me such power over him by obeying.
Just a few words, just a few moments... but a wonderfully arousing exchange.
I swear to the football gods. Going up the middle when it is 2nd and 20 and the last three times you have gone up the middle have resulted in negative yardage. Going for 6 when it is 4th and goal at the 1 and you go up the fricken middle again, which hasn't worked all day. God... I would love to understand Norv Turner's play calling decisions!
My Chargers lost... to Miami!!! 10-17.... sighhhh.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Read Chapter 2
Read Chapter 3
Read Chapter 4
Read Chapter 5
“Wake up,” I said pinching both of Becca's nipples between my fingertips late the next morning. I loved to sleep in, I wondered though how much sleep she had gotten. She moaned as I continued to squeeze and twist at her little nubs and then began to lift her hips even higher than the pillow under them raised them up. I untied her feet and removed the panties from her mouth. “Are you thirsty slut?” I asked holding a bottle of water just above her mouth.
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Yes, what? Say it right, like I taught you last night.”
“Yes, Miss Natalie.” I smiled as these words came from her so nicely, slipping from her with so little effort. I dribbled a small stream of water from the bottle into her mouth as a reward. After having soiled cotton panties in her mouth for so long she had to be beyond dry. She was like a little baby bird as she eagerly allowed me to do this. When I stopped the flow she said, “Thank you Miss Natalie.” Oh, this was going to be fun.
“If I let your hands go can I trust you to not play with that naughty slut hole?” Becca just nodded in response. Then I changed my mind, she really was in a perfect position for me, and I wanted more from her. “No, I think first you will need to be cleaned. All those slutty juices that leaked all night from your hole are making my room smell like sex.” She blushed so deliciously at this. Oh, I do so love a girl who blushes.
I retrieved her discarded flannel nightgown and ripped a large square of it from the bottom. I took the water bottle and got the flannel square wet. As I did this I said, “You really do stink.”
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Miss Natalie. Please, I only want to be good,” she said. Then she added something else that really pleased me and made me know I was on just the right path with this little girl. “Please, I want to be good for you.”
There it was. She wanted to be good for me. And I would make her a very good, and very naughty girl for me. I took the cloth and put it over my fingers then decided a bit more contact might keep her a bit off balance. I climbed onto the bed with her and straddled her legs that I had just untied. I squeezed them together with my thighs then leaned forward. The pillow was still under her hips and she really had a pretty little pussy now that all that hair had been removed. I thought I would let her grow just a little back eventually, a little strip just above these sweet pouty lips. But for now, for this beginning of my control of her, a daily shaving would be necessary. And I think I would be doing the shaving. Morning or night, I would have to decide. What would keep her on the edge? As I thought about this question I began to rub her with the cloth, my fingers ridged underneath.
I began by rubbing up her thighs. Soft thighs covered in her own pussy juice. Becca got very wet overnight, she was such a sexual little thing, she did have the room smelling of sex. Her poppa wouldn't like this at all, but I did, I loved it. I made small circles up and up her thighs.
“Close your eyes. I am only doing this for the good of us both. What if someone wanted to come visit me. One step into this room and they would know I have a slut for a roommate. Close your eyes as you don't need to watch me suffer for your wickedness, that only makes it nastier.” Really I wanted her to close her eyes as I knew that it would let her get lost in the sensations of me touching her, but a little reminder of her wicked ways wouldn't hurt right now.
Reaching the top of one thigh I could feel her straining under me, her legs trapped beneath my thighs pushing up against me. I moved to the other side and started again, up and up my fingers went covered in that soft, wet flannel rubbing her soft, white skin. This time on reaching the top of her thigh I moved to just above her pussy. I continued with the little circles. Looking up at her face I saw she was keeping her eyes closed just as I had ordered. And she was once again biting that full bottom lip. This was having just the desired effect. And her straining under me was certainly turning me on.
“There now, all clean on the outside. Now, I really don't want to touch you anymore than I have to, but you have proven you can't be trusted and if I let you wash yourself I am sure you would start being nasty with this slut hole wouldn't you?” She just nodded, but kept her eyes tightly shut. I shifted a bit and pushed her legs apart. I stayed there on her, I wanted to keep this sense of helplessness and being trapped beneath me strong. It was something she would have to get used to and quickly.
I lifted up the water bottle and let a tiny trickle drop right onto the freshly shaved slit. She moaned so beautiful and tried to spread her legs wider. I lifted up a bit and let her then sat back down pinning her legs in this open and vulnerable position. She was spread wide for me now. I dripped a bit more water watching it slip down in-between her lips. Then I moved my hand covered in the square of flannel right there and began rubbing this horny little girl's pussy. Yes, in her mind I was only cleaning up the proof of her slutty ways. But I fully intended to do more then cleaning. My slut was going to start this day with an orgasm from my hand. And I suspected it would be her first ever.
I pushed into her the smallest bit. She moaned. I ran the cloth down lower and lower, the same little circles on her tiny little asshole. She moaned. Then back up again, slowly coming closer and closer to her clit. She moaned and her legs strained against me. I circled it, once, then twice then began to rub it directly.
“You are such a slut Becca. Such a nasty dirty girl.” I said while giving her pleasure. “You deserved to be tied all night. Didn't you?” I rubbed a bit harder there at her clit, smaller tighter circles, faster and faster. I didn't wait for her to answer me. “You should be so ashamed that I have to clean you. You should be so ashamed that my room smells like slut.” I knew from the growing moans that she was getting so close. “You are a slut aren't you? You need me don't you? Tell me, tell me you want me to guide you, teach you. Tell me you are mine so I can make you good for me.”
“Yes, please, yes.” And as she cried out these words I felt her tense up tight. “Yes, yes, yes,” she cried out. And I knew my little slut had cum with just my fingers rubbing her. Yes, she needed me very much.
To be continued...