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Saturday Morning Tunes ...
Posted:Nov 18, 2017 4:44 am
Last Updated:Nov 18, 2017 7:18 am
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Saturday Morning Tunes...

Pusherman........................Curtis Mayfield
Never Tear Us Apart.................INXS
Since I've Been Loving You.........Led Zepplin
Carrion ..............................Fiona Apple
Omaha .............................Counting Crows

The only truth is music.”
― Jack Kerouac
3 Comments
Trussed
Posted:Nov 18, 2017 3:30 am
Last Updated:Nov 18, 2017 5:09 am
89 Views
Trussed

I like you trussed.
Helpless.
Exposed.
Your mind racing at what might be next,
the nature of pleasure,
the nature of pain;
how,
and how long
I will take you.

I like to watch the rise and fall of your chest,
how your breathing increases as I approach,
your eyes darting to my hands.
What are they holding?
What signals do they give you?
What are my intentions?

Your eyes dart as your mind roils
and I revel in your gasp at my first touch.

I like you trussed,
Hanging limp and spent afterwards,
your voice low and raw,
a single line or mascara down your cheek,
your head bowed,
I like the soft whimper as my hands
run up your side, up your back the last time
and I cut you loose,
the way you fall into my arms,
Your body spent.
Your mind at rest.
Your soul at peace.

theotherpoems~
3 Comments
The Eye of the Beholder
Posted:Nov 17, 2017 4:01 am
Last Updated:Nov 17, 2017 3:24 pm
406 Views
The Eye of the Beholder

I believe that the man was formed, but the woman was fashioned. For those of you that know your bible, you will recognize the terms. Whether you believe in it or not is irrelevant. Those two words are subtle but different. Formed and Fashioned.

The first means to build. To make. In the utilitarian sense. The latter implies artistic touch. That care was taken in the visual aspects. I deeply believe this was by design. Why? I cannot say for certain.

The way I see it, the body of the female gender warrants the appreciation only rivaled by snobby art aficionados. Even women recognize the attractiveness in each other when they have no lesbian tendencies in their bones.

Men? There is no equivalent. Straight men have no attraction to other men, even when we know they are clearly appealing to other women.

The face of a woman is delicate but powerful. The hair and shape of a woman’s face will wipe out the strongest of men, over and over. The shape of the curves of her body. The hourglass figure with the shapes jutting out and in and out and in and down. Wipes me out no matter how many times I see it.

Naked, this artwork is a true masterpiece. It truly is a sight to be admired.

Women, in all their variations, are just fucking beautiful. No reason to complicate it. It’s that simple.

TRD~
4 Comments
Reading Lips
Posted:Nov 16, 2017 10:31 am
Last Updated:Nov 16, 2017 11:31 pm
891 Views
Reading Lips

When you can’t get control of the words. That’s the moment I am looking for. When your verbal capacity is being stolen by moans and screams, and there is just no room for actual words.

Moaning. Screaming. Trying your hardest to use your words.

But you just can’t. Because the cock inside you feels so good. Hitting you deeply. O spot is taking fire.
Cervix on alert. Your end is being reached, over and over and over.

If you talk, you think you just might lose this orgasm. So you shut up. And you just make noises. You just carry on with your noises.

And then you mouth it to me. No words. Just lips. “Fuck me, harder.” “Daddy, fuck me harder.”

I hear you, though I don’t hear you. I know what you want to say.

So I accommodate. Harder. Fistful of your hair and I go for broke on your little tight pussy until I see the epic rush wash over you.

And as you cum, and as I cum, I finally hear your words. They sound a lot like this: “How the fuck do you know how to do what you do?”

I guess I just got lucky.

TRD~
4 Comments
When I Could Fuck You To Death
Posted:Nov 15, 2017 8:09 am
Last Updated:Nov 16, 2017 11:13 am
1393 Views
When I Could Fuck You To Death

Sometimes, like as I write this post, I sense a primal feeling boiling in my soul, dying to get out, where I remove the restrictor plate from my engine and unleash the utmost power within a man at the prime of his skill and strength.

I push my gauge to the limit. Then past. Redlining until I am breaking you. Then past again. Broken. Ruined. Crushed. Still pushing you harder.

This is the moment when ‘brutal rough sex’ feels vanilla. When ‘hard anal’ seems similar to soft-music Cable TV porn.

That’s where I am right now.

I want to smack your pussy at full force until you sting. Call you whore as I do it. Squeeze your neck until you grab my wrists in fear and plead for your safety. Pound your pussy and feel the head of my dick reaching an end within you and seeing in your face the tinge of pain blended with pleasure.

Smack. Across your tits.

Smack. Across your face.

Smack. Across your ass.

Smack. Across your pussy.

Red marks. Handprints needing care and attention when we are done. But for now? Now, in the moment, they just sting. They just sting a numbing sting.

Tears. Mascara running down your face. Slobber and saliva in streams sopping down your neck to your red marked tits.

Orgasms, one after another after another after another. Flooding you like a tsunami. Forced on you over and over. Wiped out as I squeeze the air from your reddened face and watching you shake from your orgasm with very little air inside you.

You fucking whore.

Sub Drop. This is when I put your beautiful head on me, pet you, and reassure you that I am here for you.

I always was.

That I am so grateful for the sacrifice you made.

That you are…

Safe.

Thank you, Kitten. Just.. thank you doll.

TRD~
4 Comments
like music...
Posted:Nov 14, 2017 4:06 am
Last Updated:Nov 17, 2017 2:26 pm
1967 Views
like music ...

you are My most precious instrument.
When I caress you,
the most subtle of moans are music to Me.
When I pinch your nipple,
your gasp sings to Me.
I could listen to your body for hours,
reacting to My touch.
The slightest shudder,
the intake of breath,
and the words…
“please”
Barely a whisper on your lips.
The sound of soft leather on your skin,
as I bring the flogger down to kiss your flesh.
Watching you arch your back,
as a second word, nearly inaudible, escapes your lips,
“more….”
My most precious instrument,
I will give you so, so much more.

SG~
2 Comments
IM NOT IMPRESSED BY YOUR ANGER
Posted:Nov 13, 2017 3:55 pm
Last Updated:Nov 14, 2017 2:35 am
2335 Views
IM NOT IMPRESSED BY YOUR ANGER

I get it, I really do. You’ve used this act before with men, used it your whole life. I said something that challenged your comfort and you’re lashing out, venom flowing from your serpents tongue. Your teeth bared, ready for a fight. You’ve used this tactic before, raised your defenses and slammed the gates to your fortress of solitude shut. You’re safe back there for awhile, and eventually, they all go away, the challenge to your comfort vanquished.

You’re deft too, you do this so well, so efficiently, that more often than not, neither you nor the person you’re doing it to even notice. A sly distraction, a subtle word, a touch of sarcasm and you’ve slipped behind the sheet, an emotional magician disappearing in a room full of people.

The thing is, I know your game. I see your rampant sarcasm and passive aggressive comments for what they are. When you raise your voice to me or leave the room in a huff of, “fine, whatever,” I’m not tricked, and I’m not intimidated. I’m not going to meet your silver-tongued venom with my own or react with my own anger. You’re not going to pull me down to your level.

No, I’m going to sit there calmly, and quietly. Like an origami dragon, I’ll let you huff and puff; I’ll let your storm bluster and blow; I’ll watch and you lose the dogs of war or choose the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune - and I’ll sit there quietly and absorb it all. I’ll take it because I can because my skin is thicker than your sharpest daggers can penetrate. I’ll take it because I know the importance of this moment. I know why this is happening, I know what you expect to happen - what you’ve been conditioned by years of experience to anticipate.

When you’re done having your moment come here, sit down, kneel at my feet, I’m not going to yell at you. I know what your sarcasm, your anger, and your furious silence mean. You’re hurt, you’re scared, you’re exhausted, I get it. Come here and I’ll scale your walls, I’ll slay your demons, and I’ll calm your stormy skies. Not with my rage but with my kindness, with my unending warmth, and quiet strength.

It’s not ok to treat me like this, and there will be a lesson coming soon enough. A stern lecture, an early bedtime, a few minutes of kneeling in the corner and staring at the wall, or a firm spanking. But for now just lose yourself here in my arms where the world is quiet and none of your waves can capsize my ship.

I am forever your safe harbor. “When the walls around you cave in, when there’s nothing left but pouring rain, you’ll find your heart in my hands."

sirsstarrynight~
5 Comments
Comfort..
Posted:Nov 13, 2017 6:42 am
Last Updated:Nov 13, 2017 1:35 pm
2444 Views
Comfort...

The feel of rope on her body gave her a certain comfort. A type of release that nothing else could. Sometimes even when she would be just relaxing she would ask him to tie her. Just to feel the security of the bonds. The comfort that restraint gave her.

That day, she lay in bed, reading her book, a lazy Sunday if there ever was one. He had intricately tied her from ankle to thigh, leaving her legs pinned helplessly behind her. The ache in her muscles gave her such a distinct pleasure. She was content as she read, the arousal building between her legs slowly, her mind focused on her book, yet gently consumed by the rope digging into her body.

She would remain like this for some time, reading, relaxing, deliciously restrained, until he came back in. His hand would gently touch her bindings, slowly tugging at each rope, each knot, her body reacting to his fingers. He would then take her book from her, kissing her lips as he looked at her. “My turn, now, love”, he said as he let his fingers drift gently across her body.

artofdomination~
4 Comments
Ask for it...
Posted:Nov 12, 2017 5:01 am
Last Updated:Nov 13, 2017 2:36 pm
2854 Views
Ask for it ...

Use your words.

A Dominant cannot always read your mind.

If you want to be choked, ask for it.

If you want to be flogged, beg.

If you want to be ravaged, plead.

If you want cock, earn it.

So many subs have such a hard time asking for what they want. They are embarrassed ashamed, or unsure of how others will react.

As cute as your embarrassment can be, it can also be frustrating to both parties and lead down a nasty path on which no one gets what they want.

So, if you want training, to be bound, to be exposed, to be used, ravaged, and made to be a little slut, get on your knees and beg for it.

sadisticgames~
10 Comments
Lets Play A Game!
Posted:Nov 11, 2017 4:01 pm
Last Updated:Nov 12, 2017 4:46 pm
3034 Views
Lets Play A Game!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ll need to make a trip to the dollar store and pick up a pack of wooden clothespins. (36)

Now, using markers, color them purple, orange, green, and one brown.

Now that they’re looking the Fall part, let’s get them into a container,

something you can’t see into, obviously, and shake them up.

Let the game begin. Pick a number between 1 and 20.

This is how many minutes you’re going to edge.

Before you start though to pull the same number of clothespins from the container.

Orange goes on your cunts, purple on your breasts, green on your inner thighs.

The brown clothespin, if you’re lucky enough to pull it, goes on your tongue.

The only way you get to orgasm is with the brown clothespin in play.

If you didn’t draw the brown clothespin, well, enjoy your edge,

and better luck next time.

sadisticgames~
7 Comments

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