Sometimes a really pretty girl gets so tired. So tired she needs two couches to lie on. 

Click on the lips to see other Sinful Sunday entries!

The wave had nearly crashed and toppled, carrying her with it in a swirling fall of white foam. She opened her mouth and yowled in celebration and terror. She was going to come, and it was too big, and she was too high to fall. 

Her Master’s voice. Far away at first, then shockingly close. “Time’s up! Stop!” 

She said, “Ooohhh.” The effort to control herself, to stop that orgasm in its tracks – she couldn’t have managed that, once. But she fought for and won control. For her Master. 

Her Master picked up the hairbrush. I’ll give you two minutes, then you can try again, darling. But … the next two minutes are going to hurt you.” She felt him press the hairbrush against her left cheek. So flat it was, and so hard. 

She braced herself.

I wrote the Sinful Sunday round-up for last week. It was an amazingly good week for Sinful Sunday, and I had to leave out many, many, brilliant images.

But to see my selection, go here! 

Everything had been impact and flurried movement and cries while her Master spanked her. He’d used the hairbrush, because he liked the uncontrolled way she responded when the brush landed. But he’d put the brush down at last, when all she knew was sex and pain and heat. Now there was peace, of a kind. 

Her Master had said she had two minutes to come, or she’d get the hairbrush again. This time he would go a little harder. 

She could feel the sun on her left thigh, but she squirmed out of the light. Her fingers worked, her arm under her tummy, fingertips wet with her own arousal. Her body tensed, and she lost awareness of time, and space: she couldn’t have said where she was.

She pushed forward, her body riding her own fingers onward. Would she come before her time was up? She didn’t know. Or care. Only that sweetness, in her skin and in her cunt, driving her on, burrowing into that quiet and soothing dark.  

The castle kitchen. And the castle kitten.

This is outside the castle, overlooking the hills and villages of one of the remoter parts of Umbria. 

It’s a pity the lovely model’s nipples aren’t in this picture. Posing naked outdoors, in a place where it had snowed just 10 days ago, took courage. Even your humble photographer was freezing, and he wasn’t even naked!

My heart breaks

When my girl wakes:

I have her thighs

In my eyes:

I know the way

To paradise.

Warmth: the slowly dwindling fires raised by the cane. A moment’s reflection, in the castle. Rubbing it in. Afterwards. 

(Note: Castle dining room. Natural, woody, light.)

Girl, spanked, fucked, sleeping. So peaceful, and so beautiful.

(Note: this is also a self-portrait. I hadn’t noticed the mirror at top left of this photo. But there your photographer is, awed at what nature, and he, have wrought.)