Category Archives: Such is life

Know thyself, and watch the clock

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“Sheeee-ooo! Twenty-four. Thank you sir.”

“Good girl. Now turn over. Onto your back.”

“Just let me…  Ahhh. God, my ass is so sore.”

“So it should be. Now. Legs apart. You’ve got ten minutes to make yourself come. Okay?”

“Yes sir.”

“If you haven’t come in ten minutes, I’ll give you another two dozen. Go!”

“Nnnnnnnn. Nnnnnnnn.”

But it was the time limit that did it. Without it she’d have come, screaming and flailing, within a couple of minutes. But having to come while he watched, with the clock ticking? She always, always, got the extra strokes.

Vampire girl #20

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The previous episode is here.

 

But the next lash landed near that first stroke, on the softer flesh of her thigh. I would whip Diane’s cunt one day, but not now, not here. To compensate for what she might think of as mercy, I made this stroke harder, and her whole body shuddered when the switch bit home. I had to put my arm round her belly, holding on to her while she shook and fought to steady herself, still grinding her ass against me while the pain sunk in. She sang that low, “ooooooooo” again, and looked at me, her eyes shining with tears under the moon.

I smiled at her. “You’re beautiful.” It was true. Submission, when it comes, is so profoundly right and satisfying. It’s beautiful and moving.  She’d found her way to the sex of this, and to part of herself that answered part of me. Her thigh must have been burning but her hand still worked, stroking herself. I kissed one tear away from her cheek, tasting the salt of my girl’s pain, but I let the others run their glistening moonlit trails.

Diane’s hips still shook, her movements forced by the grip of the pain, but eventually she was able to relax. She leaned back, her left leg still bent and raised, letting me take her weight.

She took a breath, and then another before she could speak. “Oh, you’re cruel. You’re a cruel man. How can you be so cruel?”

I said, “You can put your foot down now.” She obeyed carefully, standing with her legs apart, not letting her thighs touch. I put my hand back on her hand, which still stroked busily in her cunt. Her inner thighs were wet. I patted my sopping girl, affectionately, then took her left breast and squeezed the nipple. She made a version of her pain song, but it was not pain. She liked having her nipples hurt.

So I pulled that nipple, then turned it a little, and squeezed it again, even harder. Diane had closed her eyes, and her breathing was fast and shallow. Her hand still worked at her cunt, and she was close to coming. I said, “cruel to be kind. Cruel because you need a cruel man. Don’t you?”

“Yes. Oh fuck yes.”

“That’s right. Now, don’t come until I’ve finished whipping you, Diane. That’s an order. Now get your right knee up. Quickly.” 

 

The next episode is here.

What’s e[lust]?

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e[lust]: ah yes, a good hot cup of tea, and then a nice lie down

One of my pieces, Vampire girl #14, has been selected in the erotic anthology e[lust]. 

I’ve posted e[lust]’s table of contents below. You can use it to go back to the sexy brilliance that is Vampire girl #14, and then on to the other stories, thought pieces, and so on. There’s a lot to read and enjoy, so have a look through the links!

Pool stripes

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I once agreed not to cane a woman because she was going swimming the next morning and she didn’t want to show the marks.  

We found other things to do.  But ever since I’ve regretted being such a softie. She said it’d be humiliating and she hated humiliation. “Oh, okay,” I’d said kindly.  Now I think of Brer Rabbit and the briar patch: “oh, please don’t mark me.”

I should never have let that poor girl go to the pool, unstriped. She’d have hated the stripes, all wriggling and blushing, and she’d have come back wet as the pool.If there was a real problem she could have worn a more modest bikini.

Doms don’t always read it right, when a submissive gives them what they probably think is a signal.

Well, I don’t, anyway. 

I’m working. Proper service resumes tomorrow.

Reasons not to have sex, Part 4

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I once fell into bed with my sister’s husband’s sister after a family wedding. We weren’t related at all, in the consanguinity (blood) sense. But we thought it was amusing that we might be brother-in-law and sister-in-law, and committing some sort of sex crime.

We looked it up later and discovered that we weren’t. We were mildly disappointed about that.

But real incest strikes me as worth avoiding. I fancied my aunt, my mother’s youngest sister, for a while when I was about nine or so, and she must have been in her mid-twenties. I remember I planted a more than family kiss on her that Christmas. She pretended to be impressed, which was nice of her. 

But though there’s an huge literature involving erotic scenarios between naughty nieces and their devilishly handsome, though wicked, uncles, the scenario seems likely to be disastrous in practice. And I’ve never fancied my sisters. No offence, if they ever find this blog; they just aren’t my type. 

Anyway, incest is the last of the reasons I can think of for not having sex. 

Reasons not to have sex, Part 3

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She was deeply cute, blonde, petite, and dressed too neatly for the bar she was in. She’d been dumped by her boyfriend a week ago. She’d spent a lot of time that night attaching herself to a guy who’d come to the bar with his own group of workmates.

At one in the morning, he’d lost his courage and gone back to his friends. He left with them. He was an idiot and a coward, and I saw that his running away had hurt her. So I told her, with some sincerity, that he was the stupidest man I’d ever seen, and she’d suddenly become my armful, with one hand on my arse.

But I used my magic dom voice to order her to go home, and I packed her into a taxi. That was weird behaviour, for me.

But I’d had to give her her wallet, and her phone, which she’d left on the dance floor.

But she was on a girl’s night out, with women I worked with. And if she wasn’t happy to wake up with me, I’d have done my career serious damage.

But I was senior to her at work, though she wasn’t in my section.

But she wasn’t terribly old, or terribly experienced.

So when I packed her into that taxi, and took the cab number and driver’s ID and told him she’d get home safe or else (cab drivers raping drunk girls is an issue in my city), it was a no-brainer.

It was cool, statistically. I’d never met another woman who came with so many reasons for not having sex with her.

Pre-fab Frottage: A Suburban Horror Song

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His brain was quite low wattage,

That man in the pre-fab cottage

Who took the evangelist hostage

And rubbed her with his sausage.

They arrested him for frottage. 

 

The sad thing was, it really was a sausage. But “frottage”, or non-penetrative sexual rubbing, is a real problem on Japanese public transport, where commuters with erections don’t ask for consent.

Reasons not to have sex part 2

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From ‘The Philadelphia Story”

Mike: Mr Kittredge, it may interest you to know that our so-called affair consisted of exactly two kisses and one rather late swim both of which I thoroughly enjoyed and the memory of which I wouldn’t part with for anything. After which I returned here, carried her to her room, deposited her on her bed and promptly returned here which you will no doubt remember.
Kittredge: That’s all?
Mike: That’s all.
Tracy: (indignant) Why? Was I so cold? So forbidding?
Mike: Not at all. On the contrary but you were somewhat the worse or the better for the wine and there are rules about such things.

Halloween salute to hurricane girl

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I grew up in one of those places where you take your shirt off and go to the beach if the temperature gets up to 18 degrees. And where you’re a piker if you don’t go for a swim, in the ocean, on mid-winter’s day. 

So I know that people died in Hurricane Sandy, and I’m not underestimating that, but still, the human truth is that when I saw pictures of the winds and the huge waves, and the lights going out, I thought, “That looks like fun! I’d love to be out in that!” 

I was watching tv coverage of the aftermath, and in the background of one of the shots there was a girl at the stormy seaside, in a bikini, with a busted umbrella. The camera operator didn’t notice her and they just panned on. She was only on-screen for a couple of seconds.

But if ever there was a right response to something as solemn as a natural disaster, that was it. I’m really surprised that she doesn’t seem to have become more of an internet thing, because I’d love to know the rest of the story. 

Anyway, whoever the hell you are, bikini in the storm girl, salute to you. 

Reasons not to have sex, Part 1

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Most people know that when they look back, flat on their back in a hospital bed, hopefully with an oxygen tube, good drugs, hot nurses and howling loved ones, they’re going to spend more time thinking about love and sex than about money or work. And that they’ll regret the sexual opportunities they passed up far more than they regret any fucks they did have, no matter how indiscreet or just plain wrong those bad fucks were.

So why do people turn down sex? First reason: you don’t fancy the person who might be available and interested. That’s a good reason.

Another reason is that you might hurt someone else by having sex with that person. That’s a good reason too, though you can take it too far.

For example, there are women who’ve had another male suitor hanging around for years, and he’d pursued her pathetically, listening, worshipping, being kind and decent, and so on. I’ve felt sorry for that guy, because sometimes he’s been around when a girl has taken me to her bedroom. But the hurt you do him isn’t a good enough reason not to have sex with that girl.

I know this because I’ve also been that guy a couple of times, which is once too many, and I know that it’s best to learn not to be that guy. That learning necessarily is painful. But the lesson is worth it: women hate that guy.

I’ve also found that women who break that guy’s heart as they take you into their bedroom often want something that night: the opposite of worshipful respect. Maybe I’ve found that because I’m a dom, and so I’m sensitive to some signals. Maybe I’ve missed other signals someone else would see.

Anyway, women who’ve been worshipped too long often want things done to them that border on bdsm, but that you can reasonably do without having a negotiation first. Like holding her hands together and pushing them above her head and into the mattress; like growling at her to keep still while you suck and bite her nipples; like finding a reason to give her arse a smack. A certain bastardly lack of worship can be like rain after a drought.   

But if you’ll hurt your own lover by having sex with someone else, then there’s another good reason not to. 

We’re working around to our topic, which is: times not to do bdsm.