I got in trouble today.  Apparently, there is such a thing as “too much joking around”.  Who knew?

I shouldn’t be so glib.  I did learn a valuable lesson today, even if, on the surface, it sounds a little silly.  But my way of dealing with just about everything is tomfoolery and jokes.

What happened:

M grabs my boobs a lot.  Like… a lot, a lot.

I mean, I’ve always had oversensitive nipples, but since I’ve been with Him, they’re like… permanently hard, and the breeze makes me want to cum in my panties.  That I’m not wearing.  ANYway… Read more…

It was hot, even though she was topless and wearing only shorts. She armed sweat off her brow, leaving a smudge of dirt in it’s place. She stretched tall and glanced towards the other end of yard, stealing adoring glimpses of her Owner as He tinkered with their ancient, cantankerous tractor.  Suddenly, weeding the garden didn’t hold much importance in the scheme of things, so she sauntered over to where her Owner lay prone under the tractor. She smiled as she heard half-muttered cursing and snarls drifting up from Him, accompanied by clanks and bangs and even the occasional grunt of pain. He sounded frustrated. Angry. Maybe He needed to cool off too…

Quietly slipping her foot free of her flip-flop, she quickly rested it firmly against His crotch, pressing noticeably, stopping short of pain but leaving very little wiggle room. It was a calculated risk, she knew, to not only interrupt Him but to be aggressive against Him. The sounds of frustrated work stopped immediately; a voice grumbled, low like an idling diesel engine.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, girl? He snarled menacingly.

“I’d think it rather obvious, Master.” she retorted. “Stepping on You.”

She smiled, but underneath she was anxious. This could either go really really well, or she severely miscalculated His mood, and this could go horribly bad, for her at least. She braced herself, expecting a sudden change in position. She was prepared then, when He quickly brought the foot nearest her out and up, trying to sweep her off her feet. She dodged it and quickly moved to His other side, pressing a lilttle bit harder on His crotch to giver her a better chance of prolonging the outcome of this fight. He groaned and snarled, a strangled moan rushing towards her, and she had to fight against all of her training to not immediately drop to her knees in supplicant apology. To her surprise, He scooted away from her foot, out the underside of the tractor, and suddenly she was looking into His snapping blue eyes over the engine block of the tractor. His face was dirty, smeared with grease and grit. He had a forbidding look to his handsome angled face, a jut of arrogance in His jaw. The electricity snapping in His piercing eyes made her knees weaken once again, but she gritted her jaw and thrust her face out defiantly.

“Are you looking at a beating beyond no other, girl?” He demanded, cold amusement and dangerous desire playing across His features.

“Surely You wouldn’t be able to do such a thing, You must be too tired after getting nowhere on the tractor” she smirked.

“Oh, I think I can find it in me,” He growled.

Before she could even frame a response, He was lifting Himself up and over the tractor’s engine, meaning to squash any defiance in her to a meaningless pulp. She turned and bolted, feeling the rough callused fingers tips of His left hand skate across her bare shoulder as she launched herself away from His leap. She heard the thud of His feet hitting the ground behind her; then the air was filled with her breathing, light and rapid, and her footfalls, beating a quick staccato on the soft grass. Those sounds were quickly overcome by the sound of His breathing, heavier and somehow more alive, and His steps, solid and sure in pursuit of her. She jagged left, throwing a quick panicked glance over her shoulder as she adjusted her balance. He was right there behind her, His eyes alight with the effort of capturing her. She looked forward and scanned the yard, desperate to avoid the eventuality of her defeat. Spying the lilac bushes, dense and full, she dashed behind them, working herself into the thick foliage and ducking. Waiting for His footsteps to pound past, she was at a loss when He never came by. She rose up a bit on her knees, trying to see through the thicket, when a quiet, iron-clad voice whispered next to her: “Looking for me?” She screamed in surprise, and that scream was choked off short as as He wrapped a strong hand around her throat and pulled her back, the other hand nesting deep in her hair. He dragged her out, and released His grip on her throat once she was forced to her knees in front of Him.

“Explain yourself, slut!” He demanded, alternately amused and infuriated with her playful rebellion. She looked up at Him, that face that could melt her heart or cause her to tremble in fear, and smiled. He looked incredulous at this smile as she whispered, her voice raw from the choking, “You needed something to distract you from the tractor, did You not?”

He stood, jaw agape for a moment, then roared with laughter. When it was down to chuckles, He shook her firmly by her hair. “I’ll show you distraction, you disobedient slut. I will be quite distracted, indeed. And I have a feeling that you will be rather…distracted…for the next week.”

Her smile faded slowly as she tried to imagine the next few hours of her life. Perhaps she should have thought this through a little more? There was no more time to reflect as He dragged her by her hair, headed to the garage. She stumbled and skip-crawled along, trying to bite back the pleas for mercy as they crowded behind her lips…

This piece of erotica was written by Dweaver specifically to post on Insatiable Desire.  Thanks so much, Dave! We love it!

The whip laid into Valerie’s back with a vengeance.  Blood flipped off the end of the whip to create a splatter pattern on he wall behind the creature wielding the instrument of torture.  More blood streamed down the nearly dead woman’s back from the open wounds on her back; more appearing each time the savage whip laid into her with a loud crack.

“Say it!” the demon raged, it’s high pitch voice shrill with anger.

“Never,” came the whispered answer, uttered by a throat too soar to scream in pain any more.  “I’d trust her with my life.”

“We’ll see about that,” she raged, her face contorted in a strange combination of fear and anger.  “Trusting me will cost you your life!”

As she spoke, the demon’s skin fell away to reveal a tall woman with scars covering her own back.  Read more…

I wasn’t kidding when I said the only thing Master and I fight about these days is how much He works.  I know that, for the most part, it’s beyond His control.  I know that He doesn’t want to be working this much.  And I know it could be far, far worse.  He could be doing all those hours in the office.  Or He could be without a job.  But to be honest, it’s come to a point where knowing those things ceases being consolation.

I honestly would rather live on the street than have Him continue to live this way.  And I’ve lived on the street before, so I know exactly what I’m saying.

After Master suggested I write about how His job affects our relationship, I mentioned it to Cin and she said, “That should be lengthy.”  I guess I bitch just as much as I think I do about His job and how much it sucks.  But I responded, “And here I was thinking I had nothing to say.”

I can sum it up in four words.  His job touches everything.

I’m on my computer all day, every day when I’m not doing chores because He works all day, every day.  And as much as I’d love to say that when He’s working from home, I can sit at His feet all day and give Him massages and blow jobs and hand jobs and… The fact of the matter is, if I were to do that, He’d get nothing done.  Not to mention He’s on the phone more than anyone I’ve ever known.  Moaning and such in the middle of a conference call would certainly get Him fired.

Hmm… Now that’s an idea.

Master’s nonstop work schedule seriously fucks with Him.  He’s tired all the time.  He has no energy.  He almost never leaves the house.  He doesn’t have time to do the things He used to do to help make His mind stop or, at the very least, slow down, which means He’s constantly stressed out.  Spending so much time indoors lowers His immune system, so He’s been sick, lately, more than He has since I met Him.  Working so many overnights has His sleep schedule completely screwed up which exacerbates His already low energy level and iffy mental state.

Master’s got a few mental issues as well.  Who doesn’t, these days, you know? His are mostly anxiety related, though occasionally He dips into depression.  Usually when we’re having money problems or His sleep schedule is out of whack.  Read more…

Photo by: D Sharon Pruitt

Pink, purple and yellow chiffon was everywhere.  Pink and purple balloons tied to every fence post.  And that was just near the main house.  Corianne’s father had the lawn boy and his friends tie pink and purple bows on each of the posts around all two hundred acres when they did the rushed trim job after the rainstorm.  And every horse in the paddock had pink and purple ribbons braided into their tails and manes.  Corianne hadn’t asked for it.  But birthdays were special to her father, so one day out of the year, he was overindulgent.

Huddled in one corner were all the mothers, cocktails in hand, occasionally calling out to their children to stop that or do this or take that.  Corianne’s mother was pressed up against her father feeding him bits of celery and cherry tomatoes from her own plate.  Her father had his arm around her waist and kept calling out to Corianne for help between bites.  Corianne giggled, baring perfect white teeth and adorable dimples.

“Mommy! You’re gonna kill Daddy with vegetables! Leave him be!” she exclaimed, good-naturedly, before spinning back to her friends.  “Aren’t they funny?”

“They’re in love, stupid.  I wish my parents were.  All they do is fight.  Look! My mom’s over there talking to Mrs. Brackwith.  Probably about how much of an asshole my father is.  And my dad’s too busy ogling your mom to notice.”  Jenny Prat’s parents were on the verge of divorce.  Everyone was talking about it.

Corianne didn’t know what a divorce was.  She was afraid to ask because Jenny Prat ran away any time anyone mentioned it.  So instead, she studied her parents as they continued to flirt back and forth.

“Okay, Celia.  We should probably tend to our guests.”  Corianne’s father said just loud enough for her to hear.  “Besides… we have a spy.”

Corianne rolled her eyes. “Daddy,” she groaned.  “I am not a spy.”

He laughed and closed the distance between them.  He squatted down to be eye level with his daughter.  “Corianne Winters, P.I.”  he quipped as he wrapped his hands around Cori’s waist and lifted her high above his head.

Cori squealed with delight and screamed, “Down! Put me down!”

Her father spun to the left, “Who said that?”

“Daddy!”

He swung to face her mother.  “Celia? Did you hear something? I thought I heard Cori say my name.”  Read more…

Last night, while watching season two of Chuck with Master, I suddenly had direction for a plot Master has suggested a time or two.  So I snatched up a notebook and wrote.  This is not erotica.  Though I’m sure there are some extreme masochists who would enjoy having a pen knife stabbed through their wrist, this story’s meant to be scary, not sexy.  Though some of it will, without a doubt, be sexy.  Constructive criticism is welcome, and appreciated.

Without further adieu, meet Corianne…

“What’s that? Oh yeah.  You can’t talk, can you? Pity.  I did so want to hear you scream.  Maybe later, I suppose.  Oh… don’t cry.  Not yet.  You’ll spoil the ending.”

The voice was full of sugary sweet warmth.  Almost concern.  And a finger gently wiped a tear from his face.

“Aw.  You’re not scared are you? Come on.  It’ll only hurt for a little while.  You can handle it.”

She ran her fingers through his prematurely thinning hair.

“So what were you doing that day at the park? The girl you were with? She was so pretty! How did a man like you get a girl like that?”

Her tinkling laugh filled the air as he began to struggle.  “Don’t worry, darling.  She’s safe.  I have no interest in females.  Just rich, corporate boys, like you.  Y’all are right tasty.”  For just a moment, her southern twang slipped.  But she caught herself.  “So let’s get started, shall we?”

Her hand slid from his head to his waist.  She unbuckled the golden buckle.  And as she reached for his silk waistline, the man began to sob softly.

“Oh, come, now.”  she tutted.  “What’s wrong? Are you afraid I’m not as pretty? Here.”  She leaned forward nestling his face between her silk-clad breasts and grinned as he, for a split second, relaxed into the warm fragrance of her favorite perfume.  She untied the silk scarf and dropped it to the floor.  Then she stepped back and studied him for a moment while he stared at her.

“Do you like what you see?” She spun in place to let him admire the view.

Her hair was long and straight, cut straight across her back.  She had a pretty face and was a bit on the plump side.  She was barely dressed, in her barely-there teal camisole.  Her legs were bare and her nipples hardly covered.  The man’s mouth fell as open as a gagged mouth can.

“I’ll take that as a yes.  I hope the scarves aren’t too tight.  I hear most everything else leaves marks.  Marks lead to the cops finding the restraints, which leads to fingerprints or fiber testing.  And then the whole thing gets messy.  Messy could be bad for me.”

She walked to a nearby table and picked up a pen knife.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his eyes widen.

“Oh, come, now.  It’ll be fun!”

She retook her position in front of the chair.  As she reached toward his tailored shirt, he began to hyperventilate.  When she slipped the tip of the knife between the button and the fabric, he started making this strange whistling sound through his nose.  She giggled softly as the soft snick of thread being cut announced the button’s removal, and her hand dropped to the next.  When she got to his waist, she tugged the tails out and unbuttoned the last two.  Then she finished what she started with his pants.

“Lift your tushy up, honey.  Just a little bit so I can get your stuff out of the way.”

He whimpered but didn’t move.  Read more…

You stared down at me, perched on a log and staring up at you, as the gentle breeze passed through our camp site.  The fire crackled and flickered for no reason at all other than we liked the smell.

I slid my hands up the back of your shorts and snuggled my face to your crotch.  You moaned softly and I grinned up at you before rubbing my nose against the head of your cock.

Instant gratification.

He sprung to attention and I released him.  My giant knight in shining armor.  The man of my dreams.

I ran my tongue down the glans and suckled on the shaft and smiled as you moaned again.

And then it began to rain.  Gentle and warm.  And you sighed softly.

“This is so hot.”

I guess I agree.  No, I know.

And then I moaned.  I’m so transparent.  And I sucked and bobbed and slurped and moaned and then you were shooting your seed into the back of my throat.  And I almost choked.

Notice I said “almost”.

I wiped my lips and looked up into your smiling face and you smiled down at me.  A raindrop dripped off the tip of your nose and landed on my cheek.  And after we shuffled ourselves back into our clothes we look up to see…

Ranger Weed.

All freckle-faced and gingered.  And it was all we could do not to laugh while he wrote us our fire license.

Ranger Weed.

Good times.

“I cannot deal with these fucking holy rollers!” Wilkins Senior screamed at Marlene.  “Get them the fuck out of my house.  What ever made you think I’d accept them here?”

Marlene chuckled.  “Listen to you trying to sound all educated.  Why don’t you go hang with your bar buddies and leave me alone for once?”

“Marlene, I’ll give you five minutes.  Don’t make me embarrass you in front of your lady friends.”

“Oh… You mean, you haven’t already?”

The back of Wilkins’s hand rushed toward her face and connected with her cheek before she could duck out of the way.  It was just as well.  Missing would only infuriate him further.

Marlene met his eyes.  Hers were watery and dark, but steady.  Her voice was clear and firm.  “Never in front of outsiders, Wil.  Are you an idiot? Are you looking for trouble?”

One of her friends had already made for the phone in the kitchen.  Marlene’s pleading eyes lifted in the woman’s direction.  “Annabelle.”

“I’m sorry, Marlene.  No more.”  The woman began to dial. Read more…

Jennifer shook out the umbrella and tucked it in the corner of the entryway.  Max mentioned new carpeting, so she slipped off her shoes and left them next to the umbrella.  She walked down the hall to the room she was to meet him in and stepped inside.

She began moving around the room, adjusting the furniture the way he’d instructed.  She heard voices in the hall and took a seat in one of the upholstered chairs.  She nervously ran a hand over the burgundy velvet as she waited for the door to open.

“Here she is.  Victoria.  The most beautiful of my girls.”  Jennifer’s questioning eyes lifted to meet Max’s and he smiled reassuringly.

The woman with him stepped forward and she lifted Jennifer’s hand from the chair.  “Absolutely delighted to meet you, Victoria.  I’m sure we will have such fun together.”

“But I’m not…”  Max cleared his throat.

“Vicky, might I have a word with you please?” He snatched her hand from the woman’s palm and dragged her to a corner.  He pushed her back to the wall and put his mouth close to her ear.  “You will do what this woman tells you, Victoria.  You do not have a choice in this.  Have you forgotten your promise?”

“My promise did not include prostituting myself to a woman.  How dare you…”

“How dare I? Et ego in arcadia vixi.”

Jennifer laughed.  “Do you imagine yourself a god, Max? Is that it? I am not a lesbian or a whore.  I will not do this thing.”

“Omigosh! What is that?”

“What’s what?”

“The thing he just put in her…  Well, you know.”

“You can’t tell by looking at it? It’s a butt plug.”

“But don’t they look like Coneheads?”

His head flew up and he looked at her.  She was serious.  He grinned.  “A little bit, I guess.  Hush.  She’ll hear you.”

“I thought she knew we were here.”

“I lied.”

“Randy!”

“You wouldn’t have come.  He tells her after.  He’ll introduce us if you want.  Will you just watch?”

Jackie glared at Randy for a moment before turning her gaze back to the window just in time to see the man in black pulling a whip down from the wall.  Her hand found his and squeezed but she didn’t avert her eyes.  She watched as the man walked to the big “X” in the center of the room.  Watched the woman’s body tremble under the lash.  Watched as beads of sweat began to form on his brow.

And Randy watched her.  He took note of her expression and how she began to shift in her seat.  He smiled at the faint smell of her drifting up from between her legs.

He leaned over and whispered, “You’re enjoying this.” as he slipped a hand between her legs.  His fingers came back sopping and he shoved them in her mouth.

Jackie moaned softly as she stared.

Randy began teasing Jackie’s ear with his tongue and smiled as she shivered.  His fingers found her breasts and tugged at her nipples.  Soft, heavy exhalations danced over his collar as his lips began tickling her throat.