Malflic

It was a warm spring day when after a nice long weekend, in a home that wasn’t ours. Quarters that had been a bit to close for comfort or more accurately over run and cramped and some usually well cared for needs that I needed met in the worst way went unattended.

The first time were had been alone, truly alone in 5 days was as we hit the Garden State Parkway heading toward the airport. Sure there the normal amounts of traffic surrounded us but my hand wondered. At first just a little and then a little more until I knew I was tempting fate moving beyond playful and teasing him mercilessly as we made our way on to the interstate toward the rental care return.

Ok I was just being a bitch, a tease, and the look of frustration on his face made me even naughtier as I reached over more often and didn’t waste even a second being coy but rather got right back to business. I wanted to make sure that a million hours later that day when we did finally get home no matter how tired we were there would be a few moments of unbridled passion. A good hard quick lust filled pent up fuck is better than a good night’s sleep with no fuck at all. It sort of had an appeal all its own and up against the wall as soon as the door closed possibility turned me on just little more. My mind began really racing.

Honestly as I kept reaching across and rubbing him I wondered about on the air plane. Could we steal away to the restroom for a few minutes some where along the 4 hours flight. A cramped quarters release with a line outside was the stuff of sexual conquests and air travel legends. Do they give a merit badge to members of the mile high club?

As those thoughts danced through my increasingly horny little mind I wondered if perhaps a few salacious whispers and a couple blankets could provide a suitable alternative release. His hands were so magical, all the time in the world with no where to be, touching lightly, teasing me to the edge and back again. The knowledge that chances were he would tease me mercilessly as payback. When or if he did finally let get off I’d have to sit still, pressed into the seat. Holding back the overwhelming cries of delight being nearly silent surrounded by strangers with more than my legs quivering as I glimpsed the paradise that such a build up to orgasm could provide.

“Would you stop it!” he finally said sounding less than happy and shooting me a look that was anything but pleased. So what’s a girl to do? Grab a hold through the boy’s jeans and rub that hard little head with the heel of her hand a little more while her fingers tease his denim clad balls that’s what.

It didn’t help his mood any but it certainly got his attention, since we almost missed out exit. Despite growing up here it is an exit I’ve never missed and well one that from what I’ve heard you don’t want to miss since the part of town you have to turn around in isn’t so nice or even worse you end up heading to close to the city.

So I behaved and kept to myself, a relative term, for a few minutes. No sense in pissing him off completely. Sometimes he gets so uptight about getting where he’s going. Instead once again I found myself thinking about how long it would be before we got home, might as well be forever. No reason to have to wait that long.

We did have an SUV with tinted windows. Hmm wonder if there is a cell phone waiting lot near by we could put the seat down and crawl in the back for just a few minutes. Hell even if we had to pay for an hour’s time in some remote airport parking lot it would be very well worth it. There was plenty of time before the flight; for an appetizer. Just when you think the sex in a car years are behind you find yourself at Liberty worrying about how to put the back seat down in a rented SUV and finding a desolate parking spot.

I must have been lost in those thoughts for a few minutes too long, crying out “no” as I realized we were about to turn into the return lot. He ignored me somewhat frazzled by the signs and maze of roads leading to that point, finally asking as we pulled over the metal spikes to keep you from ever leaving the lot again. “No what?”

That was it my fantasy had been stolen. We exited the car and a breeze danced over my legs forcing my colorful wispy spring skirt to hug my hips as I walked, hair blowing in the breeze. Well at least I’d look like I’d just been fucked with all the wind.

Sometimes if you are just horny enough, a little too aroused and on the edge of becoming truly frustrated you hit a point of no return. It might be a fantasy, it might be a diversion or as it was on that sunny afternoon it might be that you get need to get some, just a taste, no matter how little to take a little of the edge off.

I had hit that point of no return. The return center was dead, at the start of the week everyone was coming into town as we were leaving. He dutifully dragged our bag toward the down escalator.

Sauntering along alluringly in front of him, of course knowing he was watching each swaying stride.

Finally inside and taking the ride down the escalator, still at that point of no return. The look in his eyes all but declared there was no chance in hell. He was too wrapped up in the hassles and minutia of travel so I excused myself to the restroom to take care of a few things and matters into my own hands before getting on the air train to head to the terminal. After all why should I suffer?

Alone with the door locked behind me, as good as the first instant and playful touch felt I knew it wasn’t what I really wanted. Sure it could hold me over. Now more than my mind was truly purring and primed it was time to tempt fate as I weighed my options. There was no need to stop yet was there? After all I was already edging on a frantic wreck and in a moment of clarity I decide to rejoin him. It was his touch I really wanted, well not exactly his touch but that would do in a pinch.

I tucked my thong in my purse, just to make things a little more accessible later. Besides they had sequins on the front triangle and the top of the back and god knows if they’d set off the metal detector. All I needed was the tactile sensation of a pat down by a stranger to make things worse.

He waited patiently by the door and now making our way up to the train I wished I hadn’t stopped. Too late to turn back now. It was empty as we made out way toward the platform…”the next train will arrive in 4 minutes” the annoying red letters called out. I don’t know why but I made my way past the security person, past the benches and billboard to the far end of the station. As a few people milled about I stood shielded from their view, threw my arms around his neck and pressed against him. Perhaps the situation had been underestimated, my hand slipping between us to find a growing interest.

His eyes still said “no”, actually they looked more like they were saying “quit teasing me you cruel bitch, I will get even with you.” Not that his look in particular didn’t sound like fun either.

The train pulled up, the door opened and instead of entering the car right in front of us since there was some one in it I headed a few cars down to an empty one. Empty cars on the air train almost never happen let alone at 4:00 in the afternoon. He trudged along toting our bags. I sat on the open seats. He stood just inside the door.

Looking to be certain no one was too close before spreading my legs, lifting my skirt and flashing him. I just had to flaunt my silky smooth moist pussy. Sometimes I am such a shameless tease. It is amazing how a little kitty shot always gets his undivided attention.

“The doors are about to close and the train will be departing shortly” blared through the speakers. That’s when the most mischievous once in a life time opportunities came to me. Speed was of the essence.

I jumped to my feet, quite literally…we were still alone.

Pouncing not in his general direction but literally right at him our bodies collided as the doors began to close. We were all but guaranteed a few minutes of privacy. My hand on his zipper and the look on his face was so priceless as I lowered it. The train pulling away I whipped out a very erect member past his boxers and jeans just as we left the station.

“Fuck me” I pleaded with my most desperate of bedroom eyes and slutty tone as we cleared the station. Bending over to grab the silver railing in one hand and throwing my skirt onto my back with the other.

I almost came as he touched me there, entering not with a fevered desperate passion but with a slow, frustrating deliberate move. I drove myself onto him forcefully. “Harder” I cried out as he moved through me and back out again

Still playing slowly! Didn’t he know that the moment wouldn’t last as I looked up and out over the tarmack, the planes, the workers, all buzzing around in plain sight as he slid into and back out of me like we had all the time in the world.

As the Train began to slow I savored the view of the all the planes and people I could see and wondered if anyone had seen us. Not that I cared, as a matter of fact I hoped everyone we passed had caught a glimpse of what was going on. Being so daring excited me even more. All too soon I found myself tucking his fat cock back into his jeans and hoping for a few more seconds alone with him. This time we were joined by a host of people moving from one terminal to the next. Standing in front of him so we were touching but not obvious I waited and as the train pulled out I “fell into him” just a little.

I squirmed and wiggled catching my balance of course and brushed against him each time the train shifted. He leered and whispered into my ear “you’re going to pay for this”. I smiled and certainly hoped so.

One more stop and as the last person in the car with us left and the doors began to close he calm demeanor of before faded. No sooner than our car passed the station he attacked me. I was only too willing to welcome the not so subtle advance. A fevered fast and hard pace caused me to hold on for dear life as he fucked me savagely. I loved it.

Pounding away in those few moments I gasped, he only moved harder and faster. I moaned in delight at the sheer force he was exerting and panted from my own efforts. As we rounded the last turn not 30 seconds from the station I came so hard screaming in sheer delight. I didn’t care who heard or what they were wondering. I hope the heard and I hope they were wondering. He joined in the guttural sounds soon afterward exploding in a final series for hard deep thrusts to complete out little tryst.

We’ll have to look for this one on the internet he kidded as we headed down the escalator. Mumbling something about security cameras and that our little performance would make the best quickies of the year back in the TSA screening room. It could have mattered less the idea of being seen by people passing in cars and riding on planes was already a turn on but having it immortalized and watched over and over again made my blood boil with wonder and anticipation.

As we bordered the plane he grabbed a few blankets “Here you’re going to need these since I owe someone a little pay back” Grinning like the devil and I did he teased me mercilessly the entire flight home.

Why 118 seconds of bliss? Simple that is how long we had together alone on the train between terminal B & C, I wouldn’t trade those fleeting seconds for all the time in the world.

So imagine you’re a successful lady, nice house in the burbs, chic ride, good job and enough degrees to wall paper your over sized foyer. Add to that you’re an adventurous lady and very sexual so much so that you’ve kept a stable of people around since your late teens to meet those very particular needs. With an over zealous bore in your past you finally meet the latest man of your dreams a tall dark and handsome type. An he’s got a libido to match your slutty shoe collection and lingerie prancing routing. He even loves to bend you over the sofa and fuck you long, deep and best of all…hard. Just like you like. The only issue is other than the harder faster routing he’s a gentle giant. Not so much as a crisp playful smack. So she’s faced with the age old problem of seeing how Vanilla he is. She hints around but the boy isn’t taking the hint. She’s a little more direct and other than a few great lays in interesting new places he’s not walking down the path she was hoping. Now a sensible woman would sit him down get him all hot and bothered and then make a slightly more direct request. Ease him into things and see if it works. She never did things the easy way instead she calls me, a dark creature from her past that was still part of her present(in a friendly co conspirator sort of way). Now why in the world would she call me? It’s a fair question. We’ve been friends for years and years. I’ve known every dark secret and revolving lover she’s had. Could I talk to him? Sure just what every guy wants to do tell someone’s new fiancée “well bud over all you’re doing pretty well but there are a few things the little lady needs that she’s not getting.” The conversation would go something like this… No no it’s not that you’re one of the few guys she hasn’t complained about size with…trust me she’s have made a point of telling me your weren’t well hung if that was the case. I should know I’ve heard it all before from her. No no you’re going south with your mouth often enough to leave her legs shaking and weak and her smooth little kitty purring away. So that’s not it. What is it then…well you know she’s kind of a wild girl right? You’ve no doubt benefited from the show and tell toy box and lacy underthings collections by now. She loves her stocking and garters and well that leather sofa she likes to be bent over it right? You never hear her screaming out in quite the same way as when she’s like that. No never mind how I know, I just do. Remember I’ve been around for years and helped pick out some of those outfits and shoes. Take it easy there dude you’re thinking the wrong thing here. I’m trying to help so bear with me. She is still a screamer right, calling out to the god’s of sexual prowess right in the act if I’m not mistaken. No No I haven’t been on that ride in years and years I told you relax. Well next time you bend her over it try putting a little color in her cheeks. Actually she likes to have her bare ass whipped with an electrical cord. She keeps in the drawer near by just fold it over give her a few good lashes, raise a few welts and then fuck your little heart out. For the next few days you get the benefit of her strutting around in garters and stockings and flashing her ass at every chance to show off her marks until they fade. Nothing good could come of that conversation so I didn’t have it. After all if you can’t tell your lover what you want in a very graphic way why the hell should I?

Written as a script this fun little role play features a true brat as the female lead and me playing her foil in the audio portion (available above on the pickle player).   Have a fun night and sse you in the moring with the next episode.

M = the male part
V= equals the female part (Victoria more accurately)

V- My mind is racing and before he’s even said a word I know just by my posture standing there boldly, not giving and inch, looking him squarely in they eye that I am tempting fate.

Tempting him, daring him to try to take me to that place that he wants so desperately to take me to and that maybe, some where that I’m not entirely willing to admit I might really like to go.

My heels level the stature playing field…slightly! My outfit is tempting enough to turn any man to putty, make them dance to my whims and not theirs, to give me absolutely anything I ever wanted…and so much more.

M- So I walked into the room and there she is waiting, One look tells me Oh so here we go again, she is in one of those moods, thinking I’ll back down thinking she holds all the cards, thinking that she’ll wear me down and be the one who really is in control. Not to night not unless she yells out the only thing that will make me stop, A safe word. Other wise all the begging and pleading and struggling in the world won’t help her until I decide it’s finished. Who cares if she’s had enough limits were meant to be tested, boundaries just like strong willed little sluts were meant to be broken.

V- “Ahh about time you got here I was afraid you wouldn’t show. That the possibility that it was entirely too much for your stiff stoic little mind to handle. I’m not you’re average girl you know.”

My words are bold and not until after the last one escaped my lips did I notice there was something different about him tonight. He seemed more like a statue cut from the most magnificent granite…hard and cold. But I still continued on as he crossed the long open room toward me. His foot steps are slow and hauntingly heavy, echoing loudly. His standard casual attire was missing, replaced with leather pants, a black T shirt and big black ominous boots. Still I taunted him.

“I’m not sure what you has in mind but playing war really isn’t doing much for me so an you lose the fifth infantry battalion shoes. I had other thing in mind.”

M- “That’s ok what I’m going to do to you tonight is a direct violation of the Geneva Convention.”

V- My mouthed opened before I thought. “Oh so you planned on playing war. Because on second thought I realized that you might be doing a gay biker impersonation of Johnny Cash.” Realizing his words were cold and his steps toward me slowed as I glared at him, daring him to try to come closer. I had backed him down so easily men really can be such simple little play things. And right when I was about to speak. To make sure he knew that no matter how the scene played out I was the one calling each and every shot.

He stopped. I stepped forward. He didn’t move. I moved closer again just one step. Maybe he really was just a beautiful statue since he was completely still and silent. So I batted my eyes and worked my way towards him again ever so slowly. Now we stood not more than 10 feet apart. I mocked him noticing the small black bag he was carrying “NICE PURSE! It even matches your outfit I’m so proud of you”.

Not a word, perhaps I wondered if I hurt his feelings men can be so soft and sensitive theses days. As I approached closing the last of the distance he smiled the most wicked little grin.

Finally his voice broke the silence

M - “That’s a good start. A very good start.”

V -What is? You standing still and silent. True some times I do like the strong silent type but not the still and silent type. It might be an indication of a lack of other skills, if you know what I mean.

M- “No the good start was that you already learned to come.”

V- and just then I realized that he had been in control all along, that I had played right into what he wanted but the game was far from over. “I plan on coming a lot”

M - “I bet you do. Hand!”

V- So I started to Clap (insert clapping) and then he snatched my hand right at the wrist. I pulled and put the other one behind my back quickly in an act of futile defiance. I’ll give him one thing he is a very strong man because as I pulled and all but hung my body weight from the limb he has seized and he didn’t so much as flinch holding me there like I was nothing more that a feather.

M- Now we are going to do this my way, every single second of it my way, and it will be a night you you’ll never forget.

V – “Unlikely” I bratted back at him. But as his grip tightened like a vice I could feel his warm flesh was indeed not stone now however his eyes were wicked in a way I had never seen before and he wore a sneer bordering on a grin. “I dare you to even try”. Bratting him once again

He let go of my wrist and it joined my other hand behind my back with such force that I stumbled backward, lost my balance, and crumbled in to a sexy heap on the floor.

M-”Strip”

V- Really had he become monosyllabic, “Hand! Strip!” Not much in the way of conversation to seduce a girl but hey I’ll play along in the name of a good time. So I found my way to my feet. Took another step or two back to make sure he had a really good view and started to move ever so slowly. Running my hand over my curves, a touch here, a little pat there, a shimmy a shake and a wiggle before reaching for the first buttons and then the second I drug our my little number for a good ten minutes before I got down to noting more than heels and panties.

M “So you only get one choice tonight. Which would you like first what’s in my bag or pocket first”

V “well a girl like me has to keep her options open. Is what’s in the bag bigger than what’s in your pocket?”

M “Of course it is. But you’re going to get both so pick”

V- Well I certainly hope so. So would I rather go from big to small or small to big?”

M- as I said your choice. Pick.

V- “let’s go with big first” and as I started toward him he tossed the bag at my feet. Completely unnecessary but I made the most of it, walked past the bag. Turned my back side towards him and bent over slowly and playfully making sure he was watching. The boy’s blood had to be boiling just watching me but to his credit he wasn’t letting it show. We’ll see how strong his will is when I get a little closer. And the second I looked toward the bag. CRACK right across my ass, and some where between the unexpected smack and the gasp I let out he swatted me again. So I snatched the bag stood up and was about to set things straight.

M- Put them on NOW!

V- What the fuck was that!

M - not even the start now open the bag and put them on or I will.

V- Opening the bag I saw four thick red leather cuffs with glistening d rings that could keep an aircraft carrier docked. These weren’t sex shop novelty items they were the real thing. Pushing him a little bit more “I won’t and you can’t make me” And with that he swallowed me in his arms and wrestled me to the ground before I knew what was going on I was face down with a hand behind my back and one cuff almost on.

I struggled and he spanked me again to get my attention. For one reason or another I kept struggling and when I reached back with my other arm to cover my now stinging and searing hot ass he grabbed that hand and put the cuff on.

.. –>[if !supportLists]–>V- .. –>[endif]–>Bastard

M – YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT A BASTARD I AM, BUT YOU’RE GOING TO FIND OUT!

V- Well I’m not sure if you’ve ever been tackled, pinned to the ground naked, smacked and cuffed. It can be quite the experience but I wasn’t going to give in that easy he was going to have to work for my respect. So always being the consummate brat I protested and told him “I dared you to make me put on the ankle cuffs”.

M – Fine have it your way.

V – The next sound was of a karabiner working its wicked little magic and then he picked me up like a rag doll. I just love it when that happens and set me back up on my feet. About the time that same time he managed to take a hold of my arms and lock the two cuffs together in front of me.

Guess I still haven’t learned since I decided to tell him “that was stupid now I couldn’t put the other cuffs on if I wanted to”

M – “Oh you can and you will. You just need a little proper motivation”

V - about that time he reached for the bag and unzipped a few sections I had over looked. He began pulling out an assortment of wicked little things that left nothing to the imagination. It was quite certain what they were for and more importantly that he intended to use each and every one of them on me.

So I decided to rethink my approach and took a seat, trying not to come crashing down. He just stood there and watched as I fumbled with my bound hands to collect the cuffs, contort my body and put them around my ankles.

He towered in the distance watching with wicked delight as I struggled. Looking at me and the picking up some biting little implement or another seemingly at about the exact second I was going to give up or say something.

Finally with both of them in place I rolled from my bottom to my knees and before I could reach forward to balance my self to stand he stepped right in front of me.

.. –>[if !supportLists]–>M- .. –>[endif]–>See a little motivation always helps, but don’t think you’re getting off that easy. Besides I like the position you’re in. Kneeling at my feet seems to suit you.

V- “Don’t get used to it won’t last for long.”

M- That’s right it won’t I have other uses for you. It seems we have forgotten something oh yes the thing in my pocket,

V- So with that he pulled out a long black silk scarf. I felt its soft coolness as he covered my eyes. In the darkness I could feel my skin tingling, the stimulation fading ever so slightly from our earlier encounter, the hard leather of the cuffs against wrists and the weight of it against my ankles. He helped me to my feet and led me across the room, down what I imagined to be the hall and into who knows where. He clasped my legs wide to something very solid.

Leaned me forward slightly and uncuffed my hands placing each of my fingers around a cold metal bar. As I griped it tightly the sound of chains ensuring my hands stayed in place echoed through my mind.

I waited and heard foot steps come and go. No doubt how he had left me he was collecting all those cruel devices I say him handling so eagerly in the other room.

M- Is there anything you’d like to say before we really begin

Victoria- Considering my options and for once choosing my words very carefully I stood silently.

M- Well?

Victoria- “You’re going to have to make me” and before I could finish the sentence he tore the last stitch of clothing off my body in one violent unapologetic pull. I screamed out “I’m yours, do what ever you want to me, I want and need you to. I want to submit”

Finally we were getting somewhere good and things hadn’t even really started yet.

Welcome back ! This post finds us at the mid point in kink week and nothing like starting the second half of anything off right. Hopefully after this you’ll be heading off to bed but not sleep since you’ll certainly be very hot and bothered after this little tale of lust and sensation play on the audio delivered by another special guest who is an extremely talented and popular writer of her own accord The Naked Nurse.

Be Sure to visit her at her own site theOfficialNakedNurse.com and to hear the audio visit malflic.libsyn.com or  in the pickle player above.  Her voice is really something special and I can’t thank her enoughfor taking her time to do this for me.

Standing there, exposed in oh so many ways. Vulnerable in ways that can not be seen, and could never be expressed in words. Images of his toned shirtless torso and handsome face moving through the darkness swim through my mind like a raging river. Each step causing him to dance between the shadows and flickering candle light in the distance mysteriously as he approaches me again, after what had felt like an eternity.

His eyes are filled with and unquenchable desire for me, and only me. No one else matters, no one else even exists for these all too few moments. My body already warm with anticipation melts into him as we touch, pressing every inch of my being against him, hoping that he knows and can fill my every unspoken need.

It’s a heat that soon enough will give way to a torrid embrace and overwhelming sensations as his arms swallow and draw me closer. His lips warm, and soft, and wet kiss my neck.

I taunt and tease with my subtle yet suggestive movements, the anticipation growing even faster than my arousal. His hands dance across my skin knowingly, over my sensuous hips, barely a tickle, a finger tip traces up my back, and along my arm. I shudder in delight knowing there is so much more to come.

The soft touch of his finger tip slowly fades, giving way to the gentle taunting caress of his large strong hands, moving, ever so slowly up the entire length of my legs, across my bottom and to the small of my back. I could suffer this forever fate forever drinking in his admiration, a goddess, his goddess and the all consuming source of his passion

A whisper in my ear, a few words that floated in the air just before his hand playfully smacks my ass. The echo of his flesh against mine bounces through the room and before I can savor that feeling, the tingle, the subtle sting that only heightened my sensations as I wait. And wait for another but instead his hands find my breasts he presses into me from behind. Oh those magical hands so large, strong, firm, and knowing. They move me in a way that only his hands ever could. I moan deliciously filled with delight as he teases my ever hardening nipples.

I wait for what I know is coming, what I wish he would get to. Seconds pass slowly, each sensation drives me in to ecstasy. Still he’s taunting me with his hands, teasing me with his caress and then as the excitement builds and I begin to lose hope my nipples find themselves between his fingers; he pinches. My unbridled delight escapes me lips.

Now rolling their hardness between his thumb and for finger the pinch begins to bite in such a delicious way. I grind into him and his grip tightens, controlling me with only his finger tips, my knees weaken but he’s holding me firmly. I find myself swaying, rubbing my ass against his growing lust, wanting something so much deeper instead. Moaning in delight, hoping he’ll continue, I feel myself getting wetter, my heavy breaths all but scream out to him that he’s taken me to the edge.

His hands soften and touch me gently again, in that area where my breasts meet my torso, it sends chills through me then I feel him moving away. Pressing back into him, how can he not know what I want? What I need. His hands dancing all over me, back down my legs, tracing with a finger nail here, a finger tip there just enough to make me wild with desire, a playful pat, a lick and a nibble. His body teases mine as he moves to my side.

“Close you eyes” he instructs me. And his touch is gone. But it is like I can feel him and as I steal a peek he is standing there in front of me, so strong and handsome. Looking into my eyes, his hands rest on my hips before moving across my stomach and he takes my hardness between his fingers again squeezing.

He steps backward and I follow, he does it again, and again I follow, this dance continues until we find ourselves alone in a candle lit room. Still he only teases, a playful touch, a brief rough pinch, a soft caress watching my eyes closely, seeing through them into my soul, my hopes, my lust, and my desires.

He takes my hands in his and then slowly places them on my chest. My own touch excites me even more, knowing that his can attend to other things.

“Close your eyes” his voice instructs me. And with one last glance before shutting them not only is he mine but I am with out a doubt entirely his.

“No peeking” I murmur my consent to those terms all the while wondering what he has planned. And then again his hands are gone. I can feel him, still so close. A shuffling step, a rustling sound, something sliding, every sound amplified, each sensation heightened, I am so very alive. Standing there eyes shut and waiting.

My eyes open! I’m startled as the wax hits my chest, its running over my breasts as he continues to pour I start to come. Our eyes meet and he touches me again, roughly, pinching, my legs quiver, our lips meet, our tongues dance, his hands wonder south and send me even deeper into my orgasm.

My screams of pleasure fill the silence of the night…and we’ve only just begun.

The First bed time edition of Kink week begins with double edition first a poetic and a Playful Little Flirtation Between lovers “Toy with me”.   Kink isn’t always tie me to the bed post sometimes it is the subtle things, the words, the glances, and all the other hidden exchanges that make everything so delicious.

Then we move on to a rope bondage piece “Tiny Little Lines” focused on the caress, the tease and sensations as you surrender to your lover will and whims. The Audio featuring my Chesty Blonde can be found on the pickle player above or by visiting http://malflic.libsyn.com

TOY With ME

The Chesty Blonde = Standard text

Malflic = Italics

Keep me wondering in a magnificent state of disarray and lust filled intoxication. Wondering if you are thinking those wonderful dirty little things I am. Wondering if the give and take that is so electric is about to ignite.

Visions of you dance in my mind even when you’re not near, in a way that consumes who I was and creates who I want to be. And merely steps away you sit there indifferently, pretending not to notice how my blood boils and my souls laments in the way only a poet can express and a lover could understand.

I can’t tell from across the room if you even know exactly what I’m thinking, if you have even the slightest inkling, or the faintest understanding of how insanely hot the fire you’re playing with is.

A specter of my lust and temptress who casts her wicked little spell over me. One who can’t even begin to fathom the power she has, or worse yet one who knows exactly everything she possesses

How a simple unintentional spark could send your life careering into a place you never imagined. Into a world of whispers, shadows and unspeakable desires, a world where the inferno I create has consumed and left wrecked many lesser men.

Noticing even from this cursed distance the possibilities, each subtle soft curve of your Devine form, every deep intoxicating breath, the shimmer of your lips that pales in comparisons to the desire that beats for you in my wicked and jaded little heart.

Coyly you glance my directions, your subtlety does not even begin to discourage my desire, it feeds it causing the needs to rise up to a point of a tension an unintended catalyst that sets everything in motion. Or was that the idea the entire time as I sat with osthers, isolated from you , uniformed of your thoughts, feelings and intentions.

Oh the thing you cause me to think, the very things that would lead us both to the edge of our human desires and dare taunt all that is beyond them with Thoughts and things that would make a whore blush and nations to damn me for thinking them. But none of that matters as I wait for you to come closers to abandon them and find a reason to escape with me into the cool cover of the night, into the shadows, and into what I desire most that can only ever be shared with you

Waiting and hoping that the time would arrive when something, anything a glimmer of hope, a sign of intention, a possible second to escape for how ever brief an interlude would appear. Fleeting seconds, cursing fate, despising the gods of carnal desire What I wouldn’t give, the sins that I would commit. If only you knew. If only you had taken the time to grace me with your attention, to dance in the movements of my desire, to walk with the deities of lust and passion, to fade into the shadows screaming in the night, howling with delight, made with ecstasy and wanting to do anything, and everything you ask…and so much more….instead

You remain distant, not cold but certainly not warm as I long for your touch, your kiss on my lips your breath on my and you body against mine.

But you just sit there and Toy with me And so I wait.

This one reads like a script and is  the retelling of our real world conversation about The Chesty Blonde Modeling for Kink Week.   Be Sure to Check out the Audio Portion on our Podcast Exercising my Demons

or in the pickle player above

Malflic
The Chesty Blonde

Whether severely twisted, 24×7, a casual player, or pure vanilla at some point or other we all get asked to try something new…sexually. Well I like to think that happens if we’re lucky anyway. And like everyone should we all have boundaries. Ok I know a few nut jobs who haven’t found them yet but most of us follow the safe, sane, and consensual philosophy.

Now that basic fact is a given but then imagine you live with me. For years your pure and wholesome soul has become gradually jaded and less than snow white because of me.

You’ve indulged my desire to do this or that and hell on occasion your twisted little partner was right it was fun. Then I come along and ask “do you want to be a Fetish model for my upcoming kink week.”

First you pretend the moron you share your life with is not obsessing about his pet project yet again. After all about six months ago the guy had the idea to have 3 of his excessively chesty friends (two of which were actually your friends and not his) pose topless with you standing around him in semi circle holding their breasts for a I’m surrounded by boobs post.

The idea never took off, but I still have hope.

Then as a bonus a few more chest only shots to figure out which pair put up with him. In that case rolling your eyes and ignoring the request a few times worked.

So he asks again adding “I won’t be showing anything too revealing” this coming from the same man who asked in Jamaica why is there was a prude side at Hedo.

(in my defense I believe that if you are there you should either be naked or be ok with people who are)

“Just a little rope work, I can’t really show too much and not get deleted”

he adds.

If that wasn’t bad enough he immediately began testing the how much can he show and get away with boundaries. Not necessarily with the thought police but with me of course beginning with topless and working his way toward decently covered from there, seriously he has absolutely no shame.

As he would do here’s a quick list of things I don’t think I’d ever really wanted to be
A New York Yankee,
The Heavy Weight Champion of the World,,
The President of Any Country
Miss America,
or a Fetish Model.

Then came the biggest obsession; what color should the ropes be…an obsession he mired over alone, not letting me in on what he was thinking, rather he asked questions like…”do you think emerald green looks good against your skin?” “Do you think you look better in Blue or Burgundy?”

Now I was listening but it didn’t really dawn on me what he was actually intending to do until one day when standing in the middle of a store filled with unmentionables I called him for some input on whether a corset would work or did he really need me in a bustier for the pictures. In the middle of color choices and size discussions where he was more concerned with the amount of cleavage than color choice. I realized he wasn’t just including the rope as an element in the picture but planned on using it one me.

Oh sure he explained what he was thinking in the way of the pictures, all too often from the very beginning but new rope and his design and color scheme concerns didn’t show up for a month or two.

A little while later he finally found a hurried minute and showed off his latest literary addition, Hemmingway, well not exactly, More Vonnegut…Hell no he has all of them already. Proust. Actually thankfully not, instead he whips out a tome by the 2 knotty boys and asks if I want to see a rope trick.

“Certainly as long as it’s not on me” I tell him knowing damn well his twisted little mind had it already worked out. Really does the boy think I’m that easy? I should have known he was too happy when a box obviously containing a book showed up at the door.

Frankly he hadn’t been that happy since he got the 12 issues for 12 dollars offer from Playboy. The only thing better than good porn is cheap good porn.

A few days later in a nice quiet moment out comes the laptop and rather than blithering on again he actually kind off ask for my input. By now he wasn’t fretting only over the color but the diameter of the rope had entered the equation.

I’m still not convinced his indecision, wasn’t just a ploy to justify buying more and different kinds of rope.

Kink week might be fun for him and hopefully you too but this time around it was as nothing more than a reason to buy too much new rope and tie me up…not that I’m complaining.

So if your lover ever asks you honey do you want to be a fetish model? Get all the details up front. And then maybe run like hell if so inclined.

Well never let be said I have all my shit together because back in January I decided to do a second edition of kink week. After all why not how bad could it be I’d have the better part of 5 months to put it together. Plenty f time to write and come up with some new kinky ideas and stories. In the mean time I began my “Exercising My Demons” podcast on a whim and figured audio could be a huge part of the event. Adding in the wild idea to have people beyond me and the Chesty Blonde in on the fun and it would be great.

A few months later someone points out that it’s memorial day weekend. Ok I traditionally spend three days over that holiday in Indiana visiting my sister and her family doing the little kid birthday thing. No big deal I planned on being done well ahead of time. A little while after the Blonde pointed out that we had commitments that would keep us home this year…even better I could focus on kink week with out Internet access anxiety.

Well those things that kept me home would mean I’d also have a stream of house guests spending the night from the Tuesday before kink week until Memorial day. Now It’s one thing to put away the ropes, play clothes and sex toys. We don’t have any specialty furniture other than a massive four post bed (yeah that’s a big fucking shock isn’t it). So no need to hide a Saint John’s cross, hooks in the ceiling, or metal rings in the basement walls, and candles are very instyle decorations so nothing odd there. It is something that everybody goes through now and again…house guests with different values than your own but then add in that two of my additional stunt voices would be in town to join us for the festivities. It had the potential to be the wildest of weekends and a complete disaster in the same breath.

So there we are my house a revolving door of day guests and house guests. Parents, grand parents, friends, family and an assortment of other carbon based life forms and a smattering of kinky or kink aware friends coming and going. I’m sneaking off to edit audio like a desperate smoker just trying to get a few puffs in be fore the nuns raid the boys restroom in an act of righteous vengeance. People are also sneaking away from the parties and making their way down to visit me and dying to know what I’m listening to nothing important I reassure them, just a little audio, what ever excuse I could come up with for my isolation and constant disappearances. The down side of that is they thought that I was writing and recording music again which prompted other time consuming questions.

Oh sure then after playing Taxi (airport runs, carting the kids around and buying groceries) , tour guide (we live in St. Louis so the arch is a must see for all first timers to our place), sommelier (a Saturday afternoon wine country tour in a 15 person van with me as th designated driver, and yes believe it or not Missouri has some pretty good wines, it is one of the few things in the region I truly love), chef (and not just a guy standing at a BBQ real cooking thank you very much), host and party guest of my own accord at other functions. There were moments when like a man keeping and assortment of lovers I’d sneak off with one of the ladies, down an unlit stairwell, closing the door behind us fire up the PC, sound board and mics and record them reading my dirty little tales.

The high light of which was Victoria and I marking up our scripts while sitting in a grocery store parking lot and then rushed home and were standing in the studio role playing her calling out “BASTARD” a bit to enthusiastically as she glared at me and me calling her a slut repeatedly in a not so nice tone of voice while a house full of people above us were drinking potent knock you on your ass Margaritas. “I think we can take this so much further, it could be much more intense” Apparently my little scene was not nearly cruel enough to meet her needs.

At 5:00 am on morning I’m sitting at the kitchen table posting a when kink goes wrong. Sipping a vat of strong black coffee, thinking about the potential of blowing off my morning run and clogging my own arteries with a pound of bacon and a nice order of Eggs Benedict and fried potatoes ( a nice Polish boy like me has to have to have his potatoes) When my mother who was in town visiting walks in still in her night shirt, pours a massive cup of coffee as well and sits down across from me. Looking over if she asks “are you still writing that pornography?”

I laugh and tell her I’m working on smut at that very moment but would be done shortly. She has now idea what I write and equates it to dime store romances of her own youth, then again maybe she does in my younger years she’d show up unannounced to see my band play and it was often fairly obvious with the bull whips, girl in a cage and hand cuffs what were singing about even if you couldn’t understand the words.

Some where along the way my pc decides it time to take a dirt nap, but it doesn’t fade in a blaze of glory and go out in flames instead it starts to take an hour to do something tha should take three minutes so the original version of this post talking about the coordination issues rather than the aftermath my surface later once I get my geek hat back on and the urge to stop calling it a useless fucking whore subsides.

Have no fear the rest of kink week will go on as planned with the only change being that I’ll be doing tonight’s reading of the “Devil makes three later that evening” instead of Victoria.

This post comes to you courtesy of my new laptop and th epoor bastards who had to work at Best Buy yesterday.

The Audio features my friend Victoria  and can be heard by visiting the podcast “Exercising My Demons”

or on the pickle player above

Now not that I have anything against nudity, usually some of the most fun things involve varying states of nakedness. Play clothes can be part of a very fun filled life, what’s better than dressing up and pretending to be something you usually aren’t. After all how many times can a girl really act like an angel, I tell you this its far more often than most of us get to act like the devil…in public anyway. You have to keep up appearances you know!

Unlike a fishnet cat suit and dangerously high heels that lacks any modesty at all or a sexy police officer out fit equipped with real cold shiny steel hand cuffs that get put to good use there all those other lovely little things that go along with a little rough sex.

Just like the clothes those delightfully wicked little thing can be put away, carried from here and there discreetly in a bag so other than the TSA on occasion most people have no idea they’re even there…let alone what to do with them. Though I believe a lot more people know than would ever let on!

Well every so often after a particularly fun weekend the after effects get worn for a few days. It is part of the fun, the subtle reminders, after all you earned those stripes right. If you didn’t struggle against the ropes why even use them to tie up your hands…or other things.

So a line here, a splotch there, marks are just another way to savor play that has passed and gives a little something delicious to look forward to next time.

So unless you happen to live at a nudist colony or like getting frisked by larger burly public servants before taking a ride down town and risking getting your picture in the local paper for being a deviant chances are none of use are seen naked by strangers all that often.

Well except for the locker room, oh sure there are curtains and a dressing area’s just outside the showers which are great if you don’t mind a puddle of questionable water around your feet as you get dressed.

Or remember to use them.

On one day in particular you can feel the eyes looking you with out even turning, gawking at your legs, or more so a little higher on your back side as you slip into your jeans.

You begin to wonder nervously if there are symmetrical lines across the middle of your back or where they were all fastened together. Your mind races as to what else they might be seeing that you had forgotten about and as you finish dressing the red rings around your wrists from where you pulled you little heart out screaming in delight are all too obvious. Glowing like Rudolf’s nose of a foggy Christmas eve.

So what’s a girl to do as she turns to find Susie home maker there looking on in horror? Try to explain? Like she’d believe you! Stop going to the Gym on Monday’s? Not a chance. Try to make her understand, well that seems to be the answer.

As I smiled devilishly, rubbed my wrists, and offered a polite ” have a good night.”

To which she awkwardly said “you too”

Coyly playing back “oh honey you have no idea how good really will be.” She blushed as my deep blue eyes met hers one last time before rounding the corner.

The audio of me reading this post can be found under the same title on the snazzy blue pickle player above or by visiting http://malflic.libsyn.com

Since the moring post is mor like brunch this Sunday morning then the mid day play will be out around tea time but today’s bed time story will be mid evening as usual.

Well when kink goes wrong this time is deeply personal because unlike some of the other stories providing you with a morning laugh this one happened to yours truly. I’ve told parts of this story before but here is the complete only moderately embellished details of what happened.

I say moderately embellished because one can never be sure what others are really thinking but their actions usually are a pretty good give away. So I assumed.

So it’s a hot summer night. Not hot as in steamy hot filled with wild passionate sex and exotic play. I mean hot like it was literally a100 damn degrees out and the humidity was as a southern friend of mine would put it “awfully close”. Or to put it in my nice east coast vernacular Fucking sticky and stupid hot.

Anyway the Blonde isn’t around…which usually means I’ll find something idiotic and typically not wholesome to do with my time. Often it involves balls, cruel demeaning profane words and implements of abject misery and torture…but most people just call the game golf.

So the phone rings and it’s a close friend. He wants to go out, but I don’t. He’s single and on the hunt, I want to watch a movie with stuff that gets blown all to fucking hell or has a psycho killer type in it while eating pizza.

He asks again and again finally offering a location that I like, lots and lots of scenery, tons of different clubs and bars with in walking distance and a band I’ve wanted to check out for a while. I agree on one condition, I need to go some where else first.

Now let’s clear a few things up before we go any further…while I’m not exactly a closet kinkster seeing as I write a few blogs, do a pod cast on the subject, and occasionally show up at an event or club here and there. In reality I’m not a big out on the scene guy either, with in certain circles, sure they know. But odds are you won’t see me in line at the leather parade. In another city or two sure there’s a decent sized group of the fetish population who could pick me out in a crowd. For the most part though in recent years I keep my kinky interests confined to a few close friends in my day to day world.

While I’m setting expectations for any Vanilla’s out there who came across this (that means not kinky people incase you were wondering. No really it’s OK to be Vanilla, it’s not meant as an insult just a classification sort of like the dewy decimal system)

Any how I’m planning on hitting my first munch in a city I’m relatively new to. So as I get ready for what is nothing more than a few drinks and a bite to eat with other like minded people who at this point don’t know me from Adam. I do what all good people do before going to such an event in an open and public place, I get dressed, Plaid shorts, white Polo, and to top it all off angelic white tennis shoes. I looked smashing if I do say so myself. Wanting to make a good impression I read the invite and to paraphrase it “Street clothes only, we’ll have tables in the main part of the restaurant, we’ve never had a problem so don’t be a jerk, collars are OK”.

Please note that it didn’t say all black suggested, kinky T’s welcome, but leave the chaps, the whips, and your bare ass at home for later. Since I read between the lines guess it really didn’t need to.

My friend asks…”can I come?”

I politely suggest it’s not a good idea.

They press the issue just a little.

Nah, you wouldn’t have a good time.

“Really I bet I would!” they insisted.

It’s a kink thing bud I finally concede. To which they reply “oh never mind, see you at 10, you are going to show up like we planned right?”

Yes I’m going to show up unless they jump me and leave me all tied up…but I wouldn’t worry too much about that since I am on the side of things that likes to do the tying. At this point I would have paid big bucks to see their face.

Anyway a little while latter I pull up to the place in question.

I make my way inside and find what you expect to find at any casual dining place…a few girls in their early 20’s playing hostess. Fuck where was the part on the directions that gave me the secret code word to tell me how to ask for the group I was looking for? Do you see a trend here? I’m always looking for symbols, outward signs, or secret codes to find other kinky people. Someday maybe I’ll share that with a shrink but now back to the story.

Guess what not a single hint. So after vacillating for a moment and deciding how to ask these nice all American looking young ladies where the other twisted souls were I offer something along the lies of ” I’m here for the social and I’m meeting a group.”

At first hey think I’m with a family reunion type event. I explain politely that’s not who I’m looking for. “it’s a social organization meeting” Blank faces stare back at me before inquiring if I had the right place. Reassuring them I do I use the term munch. “I’m here for the munch.” I inform them in a “Nod, nod, wink, wink, know what I mean” kind of tone wanting to add a bit about just like all the other deviants. They tell me the only other group they had there that night was a leather event.

Fuck it was that easy I could have walked in and said point me to the leather event and they would have known. Note to self always be direct.

Any How little Suzy cream cheese then points adding a “oh really” like she didn’t believe me. I joined in at a group of tables and we talked about all kinds of normal things, dogs, families.

Now unless you’ve ever showed up at a munch being the newbie and dressed a little too preppie it’s hard to relate. At first one guy takes the time to introduce himself and then make sure I knew everyone else at the table. At this point it could have been a rotary meeting with all the hand shakes smiles and curtsies. Ok no curtsies but enough general pleasantness to make me worry.

Shaking hands in the world in general there is often the gamesmanship if you buy into that sort of thing about how hard you squeeze. How do you rotate your hand to be on top of the other person to signify dominance and all that other bullshit. More useless shit from corporate training and B school so I offer my hand open and palm up which is the hand shake equivalent of black jack or a royal flush. It means I know you think you’re in charge and I know that you know that I know and don’t give a fuck what you think.

One old Dom in particular seemed to think that this all mattered and decided to do the squeeze and twist with me. It was the fetish equivalent of dogs pissing on a tree. Oh yeah mother fucker I can lift my leg higher than you can! I laughed as he did it, which kind of pissed him off but it was so ridiculous.

Now admittedly I’m not following the basic black fetish event attire minimum then again if you want an all black event it helps to tell the newbies. I converse, I chat and the entire time I can tell most people are trying to figure out my orientation and why in the world I was there.

Stories get told, over the next few hours another guy who is a real dog lover warms up to me. I share the story of how I came to own my first and only single tail, How and old girl friend once gave me a bull whip and other stories of the sort. He’s a real single tail aficionado and lifestyle guy with a dedicated play space in his house and quite the collection of toys. He would be the instructor at an upcoming event and invites me to attend. I politely deferred due to a previous commitment. Acceptance in close knot groups takes time and I’m not there looking for play friends but to find out about the local scene, to find out what is going on in the area and how the play parties and organizations flow.

It’s a funny thing in my mind there is no doubt that I’m a top, always have been. Some people need to let everyone know that they are the top, in that sense I’m more neutral and could care less what you like as long as you’re cool with what I’m into. I wasn’t hunting play partners or looking to steal someone else’s sub, I just wanted a few hours conversation with other kinky people, maybe get dimed in to a local event or two and I did that and showed up.

The entire night though I could see people were puzzled by me. They weren’t sure, I didn’t have “that look”. The ones that took the time to talk to me a bit rather than just leer at the preppie like the main attraction at a freak show found out I had been kinky my entire life. Despite my wardrobe had been playing for going on two decades, was more of a spanko and bondage guy than true BDSM by many people’s definition. I was in a relationship and didn’t play outside of it. The only contracts I care about had to do with my day job, the only one in my house who would ever wear a collar was the dog and that was only if he was going out of the yard and I was perfectly content with that.

Since then I’ve talked to some of the folks, met and exchanged emails with others, showed up at a few things here and there, read the posts, boards and websites to keep track of things that might interest me. Almost went to a few rope events but watch the local rope sig online choosing to lurk in the shadows and play in private.

And did one really kinky thing…bought a Haynes basic black t shirt not that I don’t own a half a dozen other ones by different companies any how. Something about the term Beefy T made it just seem more fitting for its purpose. Then went to the local craft store and bought a pack of 2 inch tall white iron on letters and hung them in the closet with my new shirt just in case I ever get the urge to go to a munch again I’ll iron “TOP” on the front of the shirt so no one needs to look for that damn elusive secret code to figure me out.

The audio portion will be up a little later this evening (around 9:30 central or as soon as the lighting storm passes I have this thing about electronics and head phones during electrical storms) to accompany the written post. It features my other English Vice “the Key Limey” and her lovely voice making her second kink week appearance.

Have a good bed time and a long fun filled sleepless night.

Some things no one knows. Not even you. Some words can not be said not ever, not even once because the story they tell can never be untold.

Dancing so precariously close to the edge, that a single misstep could end it all, I delight in that danger…it excites me. It is what I crave yet you tease, so very slowly, nothing hurried, everything in due time, taking its time to get to what ever place you so long ago determined you would take me. Unlike you I am not in control and never know where this road will lead. It could be heaven and all that it has to offer or it could be hell.

Melting into each sensation, posed like a doll. A doll subject to your whims, your desires and your mercy, and like a doll I feel cherished, the undivided attention of these modest, even though silent and speechless moments creates emotions that I can’t explain much like those words that can never be spoken. Feelings and desires that I could not ever dare express provide not a hint or indication in the least that what is happening is some much more than it seems.

That edge precarious and alluring edge is coming up on me, I stand poised so close to it that a heavy breath or slight breeze might cast me in to the abyss. Into a sea of things that once they’ve begun can not be stopped.

Stoic, I wait savoring each touch as the rope moves across my skin wrapping me tightly in their caresses. Holding me just so, every pass and each sensation building upon the last. Inside I want to scream. Outside I want to treble and shake but I remain as still as the dead of night and peer into your eyes, endlessly.

I do as is expected trying not to inch closer or tell you what I’m feeling is a ravenous hell, fighting back the urges to be there, against you. No longer just a doll posed for her own good or your amusement, no longer a play thing to be cast aside to wait in the darkness until a need arises, no longer something insignificant but a living breathing passionate soul who will become so very real in an instant.

Somewhere in those moments of indecision and misdirection my mind wondered into the depths of my own darkest depraved desires. It contemplated the things that were and the things that should not be. I swam in the lust of all things spoken and the unspoken desires that I dared not even dream of until then.

I pulled, but could not move. I opened my eyes but could not see. Breathing deeply I barely filled my lungs as the ropes caressed me tightly. Their embrace now excited me as I waited for your touch to join theirs. The feel of them against my entire being while waiting for your hands on my body, your lips against mine and all the other sinful possibilities.

It was in those dark lonely moments for the first time ever I let it all go every worry, every hang up, and needless concern. And there still on display, not knowing what was happening around me, as you made me wait for what felt like 3 eternities…I surrendered to you so very completely in every way.

Waiting for the unimaginable intensity.

Waiting for my reward, waiting for my release.