Time flies, lovers and kinks come and go, next thing you know you’re working like a mother fucker and have gray hair if you’re me. Last week while in Vegas I got to spend an afternoon with a friend just catching up and talking about everything and nothing in particular. It was a rare treat, we talked about books, family, business and then got on to more carnal topics. Swinging once upon a time, first kinks and fetish events. It was fun since they run in different circles to compare notes about lifestyle differences, outings, and how neither of us can be bothered to go to munches in the evenings anymore but the ones on Sunday afternoon’s hold the most appeal. Eventually we landed on the topic of finding people to play with in the old days when there wasn’t chat rooms, BBS, specialty web sites or any of the other things we now take for granted.
Somehow I had forgotten that not only were there the Seeking columns in news papers and local entertainment rags (The City Paper in Pittsburgh or the River Front Times in STL, etc) but that once or twice a month there were specialty publications sold in adult books stores advertising couples, singles and their interests and desires. Responses came to Post Office boxes or special voicemail boxes the papers provided to clients. Did the offers pour in? Sometimes yes, sometimes no but each reply signified a possibility that just maybe you could find what you thought you were looking for. I think and perhaps this is an unfair assumption that the people and the responses were more genuine. The intention was to meet or whatever. The whole cyber Romeo or master of all who submit types were fewer and further in between. Not that there was complete truth in advertising even then.
With the ease of today’s world a few google searches and you can hit dozens of sites with varying levels of traffic and sub cultures that cater to you kinks. I’ve been on some of them over the years, run the occasional bit, had a few offers, met a few folks etc but somehow even in retrospect an email, that leads to IM, to phone calls and texts while thrilling never held the same magical charm as a letter in a mail box. Well either that or I’ve become old and jaded. In fairness I may be getting old but I’ve always been cynical and jaded.
I think from now on I’ll become a man of letters. If you’d like to write me and receive a reply send a self abused stomped antelope to 666 Satan’s way, Hell Missouri 63666. Either that or you can just call me to talk dirty or send naughty pics to my cell. Maybe the old way wasn’t really better
This is the first Full Length Podcast episode since I quit putting out Exercising My Demons on Libsyn. In this Episode I discuss how even though my rope bag was packed and I was in the car on the high way my Nilla life once again interfered with my kink based plans. A rough translation of the audio portion is included incase you’d rather read, find my voice offensive, or don’t want your children to hear me cursing.
The Audio Player is at the bottom.
Hope you Enjoy
Script – Foiled Again…I was so close to the Rope social!
For the past three months I’ve been trying to get out and be social. Really I have! Admittedly I went into sort of a non-kink life frenzy shortly after missing Lewbaricon in St Louis this past spring. My travel routing which is a big part of my typically insane life changed leaving me less time with established frequent party and kink stops and more dammed business stops.
In June the Chesty Blonde’s dad decided to show up from Florida with less than 12 hours notice. Fuck mission aborted. I did how ever make quite the impression as he entered the hose I was apparently standing up throwing a double bird at the elected official speaking on TV while screaming profane bursts in that general direction.
The following month the Chesty Blonde’s Mom and Stepdad came in for dinner. Oh it was all prearranged with the little chesty Mrs but I don’t exactly write rope social on the fucking family calendar to block off my time. Typically I would bail out this type of event if there was something else going on but this time I had already been committed to be the fucking chef! Fine! I cooked we ate, I made cruel snide comments and uncalled for jokes at which is not at all out of character and everyone laughed having had a great time…except for me. While a gracious host I kept thinking about the other festivities going on elsewhere.
Then came the August outing. I made it perfectly clear what the date was. As fate would have it her mom was coming in but it was for a Girl’s day of spa and beauty crap. In other words I was not welcome. So the Blonde wouldn’t consider attending and I couldn’t needle her into it but everyone else had plans leaving me with no encumbrances. Or so it seemed.
Sunday Morning – everyone sleeps in I wake up around 5 and go to the gym. Other than being there an hour early than anticipate everything is going as scheduled. I do some extra cardio, shower and head home. The Blonde is sitting on the front porch in the cool morning air sipping a fifty five gallon cup of water. OK it was 64 ounces which might as well be a 55 gallon drum. At least she wasn’t going to be having hydration issues like I was.
“our appointment is at 1 then we may go to the mall and dinner.” She tells me as I gobble down homemade blue berry pancakes and try to rehydrate. I admit that I have the “thing at 3” but other than that wasn’t sure what I’d be doing. All seemed fine then came the possibility that my youngest might not want to go dress shopping could I pick her up. I agreed that if she called by 2:15 I’d pick her up and drop her off before I left. After all 3:00 is just the starting time I could just as easily show up for the social at 3:15 or even four and no worries I’d still be just as welcome right?
The time comes for me to get ready to leave so I turn off Netflix where I was watching some inane music documentary, pack a small rope bag with an assortment of green 6 and 8mm coils that haven’t been touched since I processed them a few months ago, throw a few treats in the direction of the neighbor’s dog as I head out to the running store to indulge my wicking sock fetish. Ok it’s not a real fetish but I do like my special socks for when I run and since I’m doing a mileage build up a few new pairs were in order.
My youngest text’s me “I’m going to go with them.” Hell yeah full steam ahead! As I head toward the highway calling my old friend Victoria. I arrive at the sock store which is jammed with running shoe fetish types all in their special clothes and sets of symbols. You think S&M has a sub culture try figuring out the mutations of running fetish people…there are the pronators the over pronaters , the neutrals, the short and long distances types those that partake in hill training etc.
As I park at the running fetish store I get a text from the Blonde. “Want to meet for dinner later in west county?” I agree that it might work then 3 minutes later the phone rings. “will I come with them. Lilly want to go but not to shop for dresses with Diva” FUCK! They were supposed to be at the damn mall already. Fuck!
She asks again nicely I have no fucking intention of being at a damn mall on a Sunday afternoon, let alone when I already had my first kinky plans in months, god damn it. You can meet us here and we can all ride together. I’m driving a small sedan and not my SUV fucking wonderful I thought. I warned her that I’m hungry but would go. I such a damn sucker. Fuck!
Dropping them at the door I park and run to the pretzel stand hoping they’ve added an option for valium to the menu. Yes I’d like a salted original with the super dose valium dipping sauce. After about 15 minutes I was able to be not a complete dick but had my full blown sharp edged tongue on. Any iron since I was rocking a shirt with a fat Buddha that read “I have the body of a god” Apparently the pissed off look in my eyes told the bible thumpers not to fuck with me over my semi religious themed shirt. (note to self go buy Satan shirts for the Christmas shopping season)
Then Lilly looking punk rock with her jet black hair and purple, electric blues and green streaks, and ripped skinny jeans and I went to Dicks found the folding chair section and sat in the balcony of the West County Mall watching the suburban wasteland pass us by in blissful oblivion.
Finally we headed east toward the city for dinner at a favorite Mexican place which for once was barely filled as we sat inside the open doors looking out at the patio. The Blonde and her mother splitting a pitcher of Margarita’s. Grand ma loosens up when she’s buzzed. They girls laughed for hours including the entire ride home all of them having a good time. Diva my 17 year old ever the creative prankster blocked her phone number and called me. In her deepest horror movie demon voice told me “there’s a dead hooker in the trunk of the car” to which I responded that’s OK I’ve got a rope kit in the trunk of yours so don’t open it or Grandma will be rooting through it and I’m in no mood to explain.
I looked at the clock It was 5:30 If I drove like hell I could make the last hour of the social and maybe meet a few people who went out for dinner afterwards. I decided instead to go for shaved ice. I was so damn close before as always seems to be the case I was foiled again like some witless cartoon villain.
So here you have it folks the latest episode of exercising my demons just in time for fuck me is the ass day. Oopps wrong day Valentines day. Same difference really. Below you’ll find the transcript of this episode and to listen of course just click on the snazzy pickle player on the right or subscribe to the podcast on itunes. Mistress Victoria’s Intro
Welcome Back to Exercising my Demons I’m Mistress Victoria and I’ll be hosting this episode which is not only the valentine’s day edition but is also the first installment of his lingerie tales series which is the retelling of age old classic malfic experiences as they really happened. As the saying goes truth is stranger than fiction
Having not seen Mal in quite a while but getting to spend a little time with him a few weeks back made really remember how shameless the man is. Whether it was his cavorting with a tall and leggy blonde from Kansas or the unapologetic interaction with a sultry little Russian number who was sporting her ample cleavage and torn fishnet stockings. He really has a unique gift of being able to make anyone feel completely at home with him or hellishly uncomfortable so often just with a look and a few words. A fact he demonstrated by making the poor waitress at a little Mexican place blush just by the way he looked into her eyes. And she was no mousy little thing. Then there was the devils grin as we walked past the front desk of his hotel when he asked the young ladies working there if they’d like to join us. While they politely passed on the opportunity they already knew him by name and he’s only been in town for four hours.
So how does one get like that? Perhaps events like this are what helped to make him into who he is. So sit back relax, let your imagination run wild and so we begin Lingerie Tales. An obsession begins.
So there is a defining moment that sets things in our minds as important and interesting or not. I was a child of the 80’s and Lingerie was front and center in so much of the pop culture during those formative years. Madonna strutting around with her bra showing and what 13 year old could forget her rolling around on TV in a white lace wedding dress exposing her garters and stockings. Of course there was Prince and his seemingly endless line of sexy lingerie clad women. Gett Off is still one of my favorite songs and videos. Not to mention my seemingly unrestricted access to the holy grail of seductive women; Playboy. While my friends were all jerking off to the Penny’s catalog lingerie section I had access to the best nudie mags of the day. What can I say I was a fast study with the right connections. By modern standards I suppose its all fairly demure now.
Sure it was a White Snake video that emblazoned the thong in to my psyche but the for me personally there was always something about Sexy Lingerie from early puberty on that held my attention. Ironically I’d have to say it had nothing to do with any of these things that truly created my lasting interest in women’s undergarments.
No in my case it was not Rock and Roll, Movies, TV, or even Laura who was 2 years older than me drove a White and Orange 5o’s Chevy hot road and wore her Catholic High School uniform so daringly short you could catch a glimpse of ass and lace if she had her full out strut on or her Lace cuffed shirt white socks and scuffed up heels that made me what I am. Instead it was a boring Thursday night at the local mall.
In this case I’d like to say that it was Jenny’s fault. It was a boring Thursday afternoon we were both 17 and had been around the block more than a few times. In fact my block included a few dark alleys, some questionable city streets and a few memorable moments worthy of their own story.
She asked me to go to the mall. We were friends but nothing more. Later in life until she married her second husband and some one inquired about the “nature” of our relationship my standard line was “I Love her, she looks great in thigh high stockings and bent over a sofa, but there’s no way in hell. She’s all yours.” I meant every word of that with the the utmost sincerity.
At the time she was dating a guy I had come to be friends with. He didn’t see me as a threat which was rare for a man that age, any guy not threatened by me was just fine. She conned me into going to the mall. I showed up at her house. He dad who was a saint in more ways than one welcomed me in. She as usual wasn’t quite ready so I sat in the kitchen talking. When he asked what we were looking for at the mall I had to admit I didn’t have a clue. 45 minutes later we end up at a mall across town instead of the one by her place and she’s leading me into a Lingerie store.
At this point I knew I liked lace, teddies were all the rage back then in the circles I ran. Chemises and baby dolls didn’t have the same luster as a tight fitting bodice and crotch that could be unsnapped with one’s teeth. My Journey into the leather, rubber and the fetish scene was already in progress. However I digress.
I looked at her and eventually she explained why she brought me along. She wanted to buy a new out fit for her boyfriend and after much explanation she admitted he said “Just get something Michael would like.”
Later I learned that he knew I was going and didn’t care. Even then I was a pretty open guy but having my girlfriend picking out and modeling new lingerie with another boy might have been a bit much for me at that time.
“What about this” she said holding up a pink sheer bra and bikini panties. I shrugged, she held on to them. Then onto the satin and silk stuff, more panties the skimpier the better it seemed. Making a few selections all while the older suburbanites eyed me like the plague and did everything but call out Slut at her. At one point I think the sales clerk assumed I was gay since I kept commenting on the quality and construction of the lingerie. Probably not the most seemingly straight thing to do in 1987. If there was one thing I knew that could be useful it was quality fabric and good tailoring, a by product of my environment as a kid. I’m still a quality whore who looks at fabric quality first, Construction second and brand third before buying anything.
Jenny filled her arms. The lingerie store clerk was a pretty little brunette who might just have been the type to catch my interest held a wide array of panties and bras, a few teddies and even a couple of longish sheer and satin night gowns near the dressing room.
Let the exhibitionism begin. Should have been announced over the the in store public address system as I sat on a faux pinkish burgundy bench just across from the dressing room. I watched the dressing room door close, I could still see mid calf down as she kicked off her heels, then her jeans hit the floor unceremoniously, it was all I expected to see but a few moments later she called out my name, asking if anybody was around and after being told not really swung the door open to reveal her soft white skin clad in a matching bra and panty set. She smiled, she moved a little, she turned around. Ask what I thought but as she stood there in almost nothing the one thing she didn’t do was blush.
Modesty was not a trait the girl had. The show continued with different out fits, a strut a pose, a wiggle and a bend as she played along masterfully and loving every minute of it. The long sheer nighties gave me the creeps. They seemed like something someone 20 years older than her might wear. The cheek baring burgundy number with the unlined bra top was a favorite but the most memorable was the first one she picked out. The sheer soft pink against her alabaster shin walked the fine line of something that was beautiful in the classic sense, it fit her curves, it teased with muted glimpses of her dark red bush. Even now when I think of her standing there, red hair flowing, a not so innocent grin, and the dressing room door half ajar time stops for a split second.
It must have been more than an hour from start to finish. It may have been the first time but it certainly wasn’t the last. It became a cornerstone of our excessively odd relationship for years and years.
I’ve shopped for lingerie in countless places with a wide assortment of people from lovers to friends since then but it was never quite the same.
Men came and went from her life, women came and went in mine and for the better part of a decade the phone would ring and she’d ask “are you ready to go shopping?”. Nothing more needed to be said. Mistress Victoria Outro
Usually Mal’s not the type to kiss and tell but I can certainly say that the woman in this story has had a lasting impression on him in many ways. She really was a part of his everyday worlds for years and years and in his own twisted and unspoken way really cared about her. Which brings us to the conclusion of this episode so no matter who it is or why you care about them remember its Valentine’s day this week end. So do something special for someone you love, lust after, or play with. The hotter and the dirtier the better…well unless they’re a nilla.
Happy Friday Everyone. Here’s something fun and of course a little dirty to kick off a raunchy sex filled weekend.
You can listen to the episode in the snazzy pickle play on the right or one the official home of Exercising My Demons Show Notes
The Lesbian Sex Edition
This Episode is a first in a lot of way first off it is the first full girl on girl only story Mal’s featured on Exercising my demons but more importantly it’s also the first time he’s featured another person’s writing. Today’s episode was done with the permission of John Sleestaxx and Features Chapter 2 correspondence from his Book “In my neighborhood”
To learn more about Reverend John Sleestaxx look him up on twitter, visit his blog Journal of a Marginalized White Male and download his books “With a Mouth Full of Razor Blades” and of course “In My Neighborhood” free of charge and in their entirety at feed books.
Today’s host and reading was done by your friendly neighborhood kinkster Malflic.
Rope Bondage Hemp vs. MFP. As of 2016 the audio has been lost to time and a bad filing system. And of course changes in web hosts over the years Here is the test as originally transcribed. and if i ever locate to hold audio i will add it baclk in as well.
Show Notes Rope Bondage Hemp vs. MFP
Malflic once again finds a reason to get out his rope bag and pseudo justify buying more new rope that he actually doesn’t need. Still he convinces the Chesty Blonde to play along as he tried to answer the question for the ages when it comes to bondage…Hemp vs. MFP rope. It’s more fun than science as he reviews six tied he conducted on his willing partner and the perceived differences that natural fiber rope gave him as the rigger and the Blonde as the stunt bunny DuJour . Over time Malflic who is only human became distracted by his sexy partner who was set on seducing him into non bondage related actives before he eventually tells of how he introduced a series of nibbles, kisses, pinches and smacks into to the process along with nipple clamps and sex toys. Intro The Chesty Blonde
Welcome Back to Exercising My Demons. I’m the Chesty Blonde and today not only am I the hostess of this episode but I was also the stunt bunny used in the “research portion” .
Malfic’s ask me to do a lot of different things over the years but anything that starts with the question naked or clothed before he explains what he’s planning to do still sets off more than a few alarms. As a matter of fact Mal has me tied to a chair right now in the name of “artistic integrity”. On the upside he let me keep my heels on and was nice enough to close the blinds and turn up the heat in so it could be worse. As most of you know we’re pretty “nontraditional” I’m not June Cleaver and well he’s certainly no Ward; unless Ward was a closet deviant. Around here it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that the topic of traditional Shibari ties the kind Midori Teaches are put up against the benefits of 2 Knotty Boys fusion style with bondage is just the kind of thing his dirty mind would obsess over. Me I’d rather obsess over J.D.
Then of course there is the debate of Hemp vs. MFP rope. Which is what he tries to answer in the episode, with my help of course. So sit back, relax, (sarcastically) assuming you’re not tied to a chair at this very moment that is. & Let your imagination run wild and so we begin…Rope Bondage Natural Hemp vs. Synthetic MFP
I thought of calling this “confessions of a rope addict” or of placing an ad that read “Bondage Bunnies wanted for a semi scientific rope experiment”. After all what kind of man has his favorite rope vendor on speed dial on both his cell phones, skype and his the office desk set?
Of course with all the crazy things that have been happening to people on Craig’s list with my luck an add that read “Assortment of Stunt Bunnies wanted for semi scientific wanted for bondage story and possible pictorial” There is always the morality police or real police running a sting operation but since its wasn’t for sex and I’m sure as hell not paying someone so I can tie them up the second concern was I’d end up with a litany of responses from 450 pound cross dressers interested in suspension work which might be more of an issue because I have no interest or idea how to tie around a guys stuff even if its tucked and well I don’t do suspension work. With that in mind I thought it best to work within the confines of the folks I know. Enter my standard quasi interested but willing to put up with me stunt Bunny DuJour and partner the Chesty Blonde.
Like so many things in my life the latest quest started when I went off to one of my all time favorite sites on the internet, in this case it was twistedmonk.com. So what is a rope guy with a few extra bucks in his pocket going to do…order a bunch of new rope under the guises of wanting to finally answer definitively and for all the ages the pressing question of hemp vs. mfp.
Well that and there is something about ordering a product with the name Statutory Grape that just makes me smile! This time was going to be different, it was an experiment so why not really get wild and change a few things around so I headed toward pretty kitty pink for a bit of color diversity but sadly they were out.
So after the panic subsided and a quick call to assess the inventory situation I got a pleasant answer from the nice guy picked up the phone who said it would be a while and in my opinion potentially worse yet it might be going the way of green. I scurried off to asses my options and settled in on what other than sex and violet, a bright, shocking, vivid color. Perfect and I could only imagine how great it would look next to or tied around black leather. After all I have enough black rope to last a lifetime and well I’m just not that into red even on sports cars. Now don’t get me wrong I dig red latex and that same color in lingerie is fine but when it comes to sports cars and rope…well just not my flavor. White hemp would be unheard of and I’ve got a enough issues in life without bringing cotton or an exotic type fiber into the mix. Besides I have enough white mfp procured over the years from the local dom depot to dock the pacific fleet. (Clears throat) and Ahem mine isn’t all moldy from sitting outside in the rain.
A box shows up at the house about 10 days later. Of course I wasn’t here and I arrived home myself a few days later after an extremely long day on two overcrowded amateur traveler filled excessively late flying penis. I walk in the door soon after sorting through the small of packages and mail that arrive for me. There it is my box filled with new rope! Who knew I could love a generic USPS box so much before even opening it. I ran off to another room to tear it open and admire that wonderful color.
Well now it was officially on! Time to uncoil and get to work.
So the goal was pretty simple to do the same six ties with both kinds of rope. Starting off with a simple body harness tied with a series of overhand knots. Then a straight forward chest harness, and since well she is chesty and I’m especially partial to her tits in a Japanese pearl tie that I would abandon mid experiment and exchange for something all together different. What good is rope if you can’t every so often tie someone to the bed post so why not a one column tie. I did have a lover years ago who like to be tied to the radiator in her apartment, when it wasn’t on of course. She never strained against the ropes but really just got off on the whole thing and her body position. Maybe that’s a story for another time.
Being a bit of an avid reader this little experiment also gave me the perfect opportunity to put one of my new books into action and try out the consequences tie from the two knotty boys new book and then a little chair bondage because well nothing like having her on hers knees, bound to a chair and completely at my mercy.
So as she said I started with Naked or clothed? She chose clothed to start which was a bit of a drag but gave me another goal of getting her naked throughout our little adventure. After FINALLY getting her to go along with the plan we began.
First up, the Body Harness with hemp so while looking into her eyes I uncoiled my choice color of the moment and began running the rope through my hands to get a feel for the rope while in an attempt to make a connection with both the fibers and my partner. The only Naughty thing was the Chesty Blonde so it was time to start.
Finding the ends and then measuring off to center of it finally I was going to start adorning her sexy frame after entirely too much waiting. Placing the rope with the center loop on her upper back and the length dangling tauntingly across her tits the first overhand knot was tied just above her breasts. The second just below those luscious but still covered tits. Then another knot at her upper stomach, mid belly, and just below the waist.
Until this point she was humoring me and I faced a decision on whether or not to tie another knot or two in strategic places as the ropes underneath her and start back up across that shapely ass that I love to smack oh so much. You could tell she knew what I was thinking but lacking a specific opinion waited as I opted not to add the additional knots between her legs. After all this was about the rope itself and not just adding extra stimulation to her kitty quite yet. I did add an overhand knot at the top of her ass cheeks most to keep the ropes between together as I worked the other parts of the tie.
So up and under the loop on the back of her neck where it all started and then I started. Around the ribcage and over her breasts, then around her torso. With each pass the loose ropes started to ever so slowly with each pass her get tighter against her body. Oh how I love those diamonds crisscrossing her body. Finally tying off the realization hit me that I had no clue what to do now. One tie down 11 more to go so after leaving things in place for just few minutes I decided to unwrap her.
Slowly untying it was time to repeat the same process with the MFP which in this case was a lovely shade of midnight blue. It was a slight contrast against her dark t shirt but trust me is stunning against her bare skin. Still I wasn’t able to talk her out of her clothes quite yet, it was not time to abandon hope besides this way it would offer a an equal experience to the hemp.
Front knots in place, lines run playfully over her kitty and up her curvy backside it was time to start on the front. Up and over her chest…maybe I stopped for a moment or two to handle them a little and share a few nipple pinches. And over and under snugging things up nicely. Ahh not quite wrapped up and tied tight like bulging cupcakes but still damn nice. Around her torso, across her waist and then there we were tied up nice and tight.
Here’s where my science was off a little bit I was using 6mm hemp and I was using the equivalent of 8mm synthetic rope. Which translates for those of us in the states to about 5/16ths. You know there is a difference the minute you run the ropes through your hands and the Chesty Blonde when asked said she could feel the difference on her entire body but the main thing was where the rope passed between her legs. Made perfect sense to me but that really didn’t help determine if the material was the cause of the sensation change or if it was the thickness.
As a little princess told me once it’s not all about length, girth really does matter. She wasn’t talking about rope necessarily but still the analogy works, length and girth always matter.
Never one to be deterred by a little resistance or the facts I figured she’s still standing there and I’ve still got rope so why not proceed. After talking her out of her shirt, but not her bra the tease and I continued to our old favorite the chest harness which is where it all began with rope for the two of us.
Since MFP was close by off we went with bight in the back just off center and my first pass of ropes went over the top of her breasts. A moment later she had them cupped in her own hands and in a way I was jealous but a decision needed to be made and there would be plenty of time for holding and fondling just a little later. Around and back under those luscious mounds again this time the top line in my pass found itself lying just under where boobs meet rib cage. Perfect! Now back around and again across the top with a pass, to the back now over the shoulder, mmm she does have sexy shoulders too. A little nibble on her neck and then back down between under the top ropes and inside of her left breast passing through the rope at the bottom, giving a slight upward pull before crossing them over the previous pass and up the inside of her right tit. Over the shoulder and tied off in back.
Here are two important facts one which you probably don’t know about me and the other which is if nothing else fairly predictable. The first is as a child is was completely ambidextrous, sure the world tried to force me to be right handed but it never really worked and a lot of time I find myself tying things backwards. It’s the same tie but done with the opposite hand than most people. Sometimes things go right to left and other times things go left to right. Shit happens and its all the same when its done but on occasion when learning knots it’s made things more challenging. The second thing is when tying of from behind and someone starts rubbing her sexy ass into my crotch I can become distracted. Insert nibbles kisses and pinches all with me behind her.
Moving right along after a slightly drawn out untying period it was time to more onto the hemp. This one followed the exact same process; more or less. After all I was only human and well a little more kissing and petting was in order as I took my good old time getting things into place. The girl knows me well and she knew if she kept rubbing her ass on my ever hardening dick sooner or later it wasn’t the ropes that would end up somewhere.
So with a still bra clad nipple pinched between each index finger and thumb. Wiggling ass thrust against my crotch I asked if she could feel the difference. She Purred and pressed into me a little more. You see this is the moment where had someone not decided to keep their shorts on it would have been game over. Rope? What Rope? But since she had I just took a hold of the chest harness gave it a little tug and started untying it unclipping her bar in the process.
Bare breasts, warm flesh, and I’d bet wet panties I turned her to face me, pulled her close and slowly assed every single inch of that rope over her body as I found the middle again and decided to take a slightly different path than I had intended heading into the corselet tie. There’s a great video on the two knotty boys site showing how it’s done and it’s also in their second book. Three things I learned on this one. First 6mm was way too thin to have the visual effect I wanted both in the wraps around her torso and in the knot above the those beautiful breast and glistening nipples. Which leads me to my second point; there is something really special about mixing one moaning sex pot, the smell of hemp rope, and an erect nipple between your teeth that you just might be flicking with your tongue the same time.
Hardcore bondage this was not, damn hot foreplay however is always fine by me so with the two of us lingering with this tie on while we distracted each other just a little eventually I decided it was time for the current set of strings to come off and after admiring the beautiful lines they had left on her skin I went digging into the rope bag for a niche big thick long piece of white mfp. I how think? Well I don’t know for sure. Let’s just say I went back the afore mentioned princess’ comment about girth and this one was damn thick.
Off I went again mixing my tying with fondling, nibbling and pinching at one point having her hold the ropes in her teeth while helping a few parts of her anatomy with my hands and mouth before finishing up the tie. I did get lazy for a second tying an over hand knot at the top of her breasts but quickly undid it and went to the double coin knot to finish up.
Leaving everything in place I helped her out of her shorts as she moved her hips from side to side but left a pair of thin powder blue string bikini panties on her. After all this was to answer an important question and I had so much more planned. So on to the consequences tie which frankly I had never done before. In no way am I an innovator so I studied hard before trying this one and while not everything was as neat and perfect as I imagined going in it worked just fine and my natural inclination to swat her on the ass added a little extra dimension to it. With everything in place and the Blonde at this point well bound I decided to give her a smack or two, each time she moved her legs it added or released the tension on the rope that was run right between the center of her legs. It gave me the idea to use this on someone during a long spanking at some point to see how it worked. Volunteers are welcome! The Blonde isn’t the type to ever tell my “hey come here and smack my ass a little extra would you” not that she needs to either that part of her gets plenty of attention from me both wicked and very nice.
With a little pink in her cheeks, a moist rope on her clit and parting her lips I just enjoyed the site for a few minutes before removing the ropes. At this point science was about to be abandoned and I was about to move on to more carnal desires but with so much rope on hand no need to leave it out.
So a few moments later my partner found herself on her knees on a very solid chair with nice thick arms. Almost there so binding her legs at the knee on each side of the chair with lower back arched so beautifully, ass pushed out I took a moment to add a modified single column tie to bound both of her arms to the corresponding chair arm. Then tie off the still on corselet on her upper body I tied above and below the double coin knot to keep her upper body downward. Was it tecxt book, nope. But it did what I needed safely and securely Now came a little play time. Those lovely d cups just hanging there looked like they were begging for a set of tight clamps that were met with a little whimper and then a series of moans as I continued to toy with them.
Add some teasing with a vibe over the panties but all over her clit had her ass wiggling as I stood to the side and watch playing with varying amounts of pressure and toy speed getting her so far along before taking it away and adding a few crisp smacks. Then beginning again, tied and teased would be a very fitting description but she didn’t seem to mind “suffering”.
One shouldn’t play with rope without a set of EMT shears near by and we observed that rule. You never know when you might need to cut your partner loose suddenly. They also come in very handy for putting a little cold metal against nice warm red skin and eventually nipping a little hole in the back of her panties to allow access to whatever might suit your purpose at that moment.
As each little snip happened one after another eventually leaving her fully exposed to me all other resolve was lost. The rest I’ll leave to your imagination because neither of us or our toy bags are telling. Outro The Chesty Blonde
Well hello again! I’d have been back sooner but I’m still a little tied up. I’m not sure we’ve answered anything but it sure was fun trying. Like what you’ve heard ? Well then be sure to subscribe. We’re in all your favorite podcast directories and even in the podcast section of I tunes under Malflic. Then run off hurry up and tell all your kinky friends about us too! Have an idea or opinion drop us a line at show at malflic.com.
As always thanks for listening to Exercising my demons and until next time have fun being sexy & adventurous. I’m off to wiggle loose so I can stop him from putting suspension hardware in our bedroom Ceiling. This Chesty Blonde has no intention of flying!
In this Episode Malfic cavorts shamelessly with one of his favorite Mistresses, the Sultry Little Viking Mistress Victoria Christiansen. Who he insists on calling Miss Victoria. The recording took place on a Friday night and in between the back and forth verbal jousting that is as insightful as anything he tells the story not only of his friendship with Victoria & their relationship but the impact it has on one of her lovers.
As always it’s loaded with the request amount of dirty words and innuendo laden dialog the show breaks rank from being heavily scripted to a real conversation and back again all while poking fun at Malflic as he laughs along with that dirty little chuckle of his at the insane lifestyle choices he’s made.
To read his other works visit malflic.com, to follow him, listen in on semi private conversations, or just to hear him rant and profess his undying love for coffee check him out on twitter. Victoria
Welcome to Malflic’s Exercising my Demons. I’m Mistress Victoria unless you know who is involved because something in his vocabulary forbids him to use the word mistress and if you want to shut him down completely try calling him master. Seriously it’s the BDSM equivalent of Whisky Dick, he just quits working right then and there. Despite that I’ll be your host today as we explore Malflic’s Unique relationship with me and his over whelming desire to simply fuck with people; just for the hell of it; Even if it’s one of my own play things.
Sure he’s got a hang up on titles but other than that he really is a twisted sick soul who truly revels in other people’s discomfort and pain simply for his own amusement. Not that I’d know anything about that personally. (Bratty) Talk about Masochsim…The Chesty Blonde has been with him for nearly 20 years. Let’s see all you edge players try to do that! It makes breath & fire play seem like going down a playground’s toddler slide on a sunny spring afternoon at the local park.
So sit back, relax, let your imagination run wild…as Mal tells his version of the story of playing with one of my playthings. And so we begin. Malflic
Victoria Christiansen is one of my closest friends in the world. Above all else she also might just be the woman I share the most unique relation with. We’re both huge literary whores, borderline or full fledged deviants depending on the topic at hand and I can only imagine her drive for carnal desire pretty much closely mirrors mine. A man has to adore a strong willed, saucy little defiant Viking after all.
Most years I spend more time talking with her than I do with the blonde and she’s always in the middle of some great adventure which keeps our conversation content fresh and interesting. I’ve asked her to do some things that I’ve never asked another soul to do…truly dark and pain filled thing like proof reading volumes of text of my first draft deranged text. Talk about an exercise in true masochism. Try being the test read for 150,000 of my unedited words penned during various states of sanity.
To put a very fine point on it if I actually got off my ass and was going to Shibaricon or BMSL but the Chesty Blonde wasn’t going with me or we wanted another friend along for the festivities Miss Victoria would be the first in line. I know this because she’s told me so several times. I like to think she might have to fight a bit for that first spot; however that could just be ego on my part. Besides the more the merrier. Every time I catch an event that mirrors her travel schedule I call her to let her know. We talk about things most people wouldn’t discuss at all with their best friend, priest, or shrink let alone casually in mixed company.
Recently I was asked to show up at a private party to read a few of my erotic works, tie a knot or two, smack a few asses and tweak some nipples. Clothes pins and clamps anyone? I didn’t go down quite that way but was close.
She was the first person I called to tell about it. Victoria’s the one who helped me decide what I would read, BTW 118 Seconds of Bliss, Do you Like to watch? an Interlude with a Masichist, and a few chapters from my book.
She was the safe call when I arrived & left to let her know I had not been abducted by anyone and nothing freakier than could be expected had occurred. Before you get any idea this in not a story about me trying become a public rigger. There are a lot of people with great skills who do that already. I’m not one of those. My play is with friends in private so this was a special treat for me.
Bondage to me is as more about art, energy, and imagery more than sex…with exceptions of course. Sometime the rope is all about sex…ok sometimes its also about pain…but not always. Sometimes it’s about power but most often and increasingly it’s about the imagery and potential pictures it might produce. Well in any case when it’s not about sex.
So imagine you have a relationship similar to what I described but instead of being me you’re her. Now you have to explain not only who I am to a new person in your life but a host of other things including why you were “playing” with that other person, why I keep calling at all hours of the night, the number of times you’ve been to said couple’s home for a weekend. Even detailing some of my relationships with others she’d come to know or be very aware of. Most people would have done so delicately, with a tentative and warm heart worrying about how the other might perceive them . Instead though one day when the light finally went on in her play things head it was time to add a sadistic streak to a somewhat more traditionally minded male, a very sick sense of humor, and a healthy does of Miss Victoria.
You see I believe that she has strong switch tendencies. In most places I’ve seen her she’s definitely the one calling the shots but when it comes to me she’s enjoyed playing the role of the wicked little brat. Who am I to question relationship dynamics? It works pretty fucking well for me so I’m certainly not complaining. Still she does like her boys kind of big, rough, and capable of an orgasmically good mind fuck.
So it’s a quiet evening at an exclusive restaurant when the topic of moi came up. Over a lovely candle lit dinner on a romantic night between two lovers is exactly where you’d never expect me to be the topic. What I do and discuss isn’t exactly most people’s idea of good stimulating conversation uless its not the brain you’re interested in stimulating then I’m your man. Talking about your unique relationship with me is the dating equivalent of going to see Fatal Attraction on a first date. Which I was actually stupid enough to do once upon a time. She picked the movie and my dick when nowhere near any part of that little tart. Victoria continued the conversation as she explained who I was, some of my proclivities if you will. It was the first time the light really went on that the guy across the table wasn’t exactly hearing about some random boy next door type she knew but rather someone who was much darker.
Most Men are really timid creatures, few live boldly, even fewer can walk the walk. So she suggested he go read a few things and listen to the bits we’ve done together.
Since the topic is Miss Victoria and well it’s a Friday night and the naked nurse hasn’t started her shenanigans yet now’s a great time to get to know my dear friend Victoria a little better. Malflic goes off script and story line to discuss his ass, shoes and other assorted things with Victoria Resume the Story Mal- That was very insightful. Rock n Roll isn’t the work of the devil the internet is. I can prove it you’re listening to this smut right now and wondering why your kitty is wet or you have a boner. Fucking pervert! Now back to my version of things. Mal You see I’m not one of the possessive types. I’m sort of like a magician pulling random rabbits out of my hat to amuse myself at any given moment. Abracadabra a bouquet of flowers. Poof a quarter disappears. After all I do have a thing for bunnies of all flavors, particularly milk chocolate and bondage. Even the Marge Simpson centerfold in Playboy held some kind of strange appeal and I’ve never even gotten to first base with a cartoon character. Though some one sent me a lovely wonder woman picture recently that made me have some of those thoughts. Victoria’s So as my play thing start to get nervous he starts asking when this all began. Jesus Malflic is usually dressed as slick as the devil stands 5”10”, weighs in at 225 pounds and is damn proud of it. So it’s not like he just appeared out of thin air but my play thing is very inquisitive about Mal and asks the requisite questions like
Is he a convicted felon (No)
Is he a serial anarchist? (No)
Doe his wife know about all of this? (of course) I tell him oh she’s The Chesty Blonde. Then I showed him a few pictures that answered that one pretty simply.
Is he hung like a stallion? Of course isn’t that the question so many people really want answered. Give you a hint girls. I know the answer…and I’m not telling.
Still my Plaything was worried he asked about slight of hand and is it all just an act (no). Do you think anyone can really talk about this stuff like he does and not be into it. Mal – Some Guys know sports stats, scripture or history. Me I know Smut & Sex. I’m a student of those topics. It comes natural and might be my greatest gift in life. I haven’t gotten a lot of complaints over the years. Tons of requests, a few complaints. Mostly things like, Hey get off my hair although Janet said my sexual appetite was average. That might have been a complaint because based on what I know it sure as hell wasn’t a statement of fact. There was the one time the a woman figured out her room mate was fucking the same guy…me! I guess that one could be called a complaint among other things. Victoria –Ok are you finished? Mal-Maybe Victoria- Here’s a deep dark secret of his if you’ve scene’d with the man he does become the role and despite the image he is a twisted as can be he’s got a really big ……(long pause) soft side. He is really sweet even with a flogger in his hand. Mal-Smart Ass. That’s going to cost you! Victoria –Lemon Meringue Pie! Mal-Oh so you wait all these years to finally pull that one out! Victoria -lemon meringue pie his default choice for safe words. Which despite probably having some deep seeded horribly disturbed meaning I don’t care to know about also eliminates that particular dessert from any food play I suppose. Mal- I’m not really into food play, a little chocolate sauce, some whipped cream, some Vanilla ice cream on the nipples from time to time and flavored body paints. Besides we’re not playing we’re talking it doesn’t count. You can only use a safe word during a scene not a conversation outside of a scene. Victoria- oh really! Just like a top, changing the rules just to get your way. What are you going to do to me? Give me every dirty little detail. Better yet show me. I do have a few idea’s if you’re lacking any.
(insert15 second musical interlude with sound effects) Victoria Umm yep no safe words were needed for that. So Back to our story. About three days later I mention to him in one of our stupidly late, extremely long, I like things that are extremely long, conversations that my play thing was going to be appearing in a particular city. Mal- It just so happens that I’ll be leaving that same city that very day. I see the infinite possibilities. Immediately! I know about this poor mystical friend of her. I know that he was recently uncomfortable with the thought of me and I’m faced with a few options. Let it slide, not a chance in hell. Meet him and make him feel all safe and nice and secure. Yeah not exactly what I’m in the mood for. I fuck with people for fun and profit and this was my idea of a bonus version of fun time for the week. After all it was going to be nothing more than a meet and greet and little chat if I had my way.
I had my own list of questions and none of them. OK almost none of them had anything to do with other people’s relationships. Sadly it didn’t work out. Sure Victoria called her little play thing to find out what time he would be arriving, where he would be going etc and as usual my schedule was completely fubar’ed. So we didn’t get to meet. I thought of walking though the airport and calling out his name.
Really call out some ones name and even if they don’t know you they stop and look. Can you see it now my wing tip wearing pin stripe suit clad ass walking through a huge airport calling out the name of a person I’d never met or spoken to just to see if I could make them pull a Houdini and appear out of thin air all for my amusement and so I could torment the poor soul for a few passing seconds. Well its not a traditional for of sadism but it would work in a pinch.
Instead I went trolling through the airport to my gate passing by hundreds of nameless faces. I got on my plane and there it was decked out in blue synthetic fabric. A beautiful, young flight attendant. I was certain I had died, She had big full bright pink lips, about a c cup, tiny little waist dangerously curved hips and full firm heart shaped ass.
Suddenly all thoughts of Miss Victoria’s plaything were lost until tonight. Outro Victoria And there you have it folks what a group of kinksters do on a Friday night. They find people to play with. We hope you’re lucky enough to do the same! This has been exercising my demons. If you like what you’ve heard be sure to subscribe we’re in all of your favorite podcast directories and even I tunes where you’ll find us listed in the podcast directory under Malflic. Have a show idea or something you’d like to tell us? Send us an email at email@example.com Do us a favor and digg & link your little hearts out and tell all your friends about us. We really do appreciate it.
And don’t forget Mal is also on twitter babbling incessantly not so much about sex but the more amusing mundane events of his day. Coffee tends to be one of his favorite morning topics. Next time on here the topic will be an exploration that included the Chesty Blonde titled Rope Bondage Hemp vs. MFP.
Mike where the fuck do you come up with this shit? Really? You’re doing a “semi scientific show about different types of rope?” Go head start a holy war why don’t you. It’s like bringing up religion or politics!
Yes I know know you make fun of those things all the time! Well on that note its time for me to go. This is Mistress Victoria, and I’ve enjoyed playing with you tonight.
Now where is that little subbie boy I brought with me? I need a drink.
The return to podcasting after a very long break Malflic, The Chesty Blonde and an assortment of friends are back to catch up on the life and times of just another set of suburbanite kinksters, their stories, lives and an explanation of the hiatus. Plus a reading of Malflic’s Short Story Bunnies and why I kind of hate holidays that explores why bringing him home to meet the family might not be his kind of thing. Script Intro
You’re listening to exercising my demons if you’re under 18, or live in sexually repressed area where discussions of a frank and sexual nature are prohibited then please leave now, move, get off your high horse, or pull the giant stick out of your ass. Other wise enjoy.
The Chesty Blonde
Did you miss us? We certainly hope so but even if you didn’t we’re back so tough shit. For those of you who did, we missed you too! You can still find us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Before we officially get started here’s a brief lame explanation for the hiatus.
On occasion I have a bad habit of disappearing into the night. I wish I could say I was away at an 18 month intensive bondage class, was off inventing invisible rope like wonder woman would use or something cool like that. But I wasn’t. Sure I would have loved to have been the only man stranded at a swingers convention surrounded by hundreds of morally questionable women, or to have finally broken in to the adult film industry as the first short fat guy other than Ron Jeremy. But I didn’t. Ok so I didn’t even try. Disappearing into the night is actually its one of the things I do best in life, the truth is I had very little to say. Well at least on the kink front of things. It was so bad that I wasn’t even talking dirty to random strangers just for the hell of it. Instead I considered living a more normal life, the economic state which truly caused me great pain since. The free market system is really the only thing I ever really believed in. When it fell apart I started questioning a lot of stuff…like. Is capitalism bull shit? Is our country now really a socialist state? Why can’t I get a decent porno at the local adult book stores around here? And should I just give it all up…shine my shoes and not my boots and get down to a normal “healthy view of life, relationships and sexuality. I took a long hard look at the politics of conservatism and change going on around us in the country and gave serious thought to playing in that world. It made me sick. I lost sleep over the entire thing.
People use to say that something would drive them to drink. Being the untraditional guy that I am I went the other way and quite drinking for the most part. I quit a lot of things…some good some not so good.
Then I simply said fuck it. I’m old and apathetic. I hate political bullshit but the way I see it both sides are on a slippery slope to hell and not listening to the citizens. Health care reform my ass. When they start lining up the special interest guys, trial lawyers and big pharma along with the other problem children the others then I’ll get on board. I kinda dig the whole sarcastic prick commentator bit and if all both sides are spinning is bull shit then while you might not see me at a tea party any time soon if they start hosting vodka parties, leather nights or XX I’m so there. So fuck it do what you know. With that this will now be a mix of my life and times like it has been in the past, a few fictional stories here and there, a little tongue in cheek social commentary mixed with irreverent political humor little more often. And now I’d like to return you to your regularly schedules dose of smut, sin, and rough sex.
The Chesty Blonde
What can I say? Only when it comes to Malflic the ropes aren’t the only thing that’s a little twisted. Actually comparatively a 100 foot of hemp is hardly twisted compared to his sick little mind. I just keep hoping his name doesn’t really end up on a ballot somewhere. Of course he wouldn’t be the first guy in office with a thing for little brunettes, thigh high stockings, wax, and combat boots. Moving right along
We’re strong believers in giving folks a fair warnings. That said if you’re a new listener or have strong religious convictions this might not be the post for you. If you have a sense of humor about religious matters or simply like heresy and sacrilege then by all means keep listening.
So with that behind us. Sit back relax. And once again let your imagination run wild. And so we begin… Bunnies and why I kind of hate holidays.
Its not that I’m not a festive guy but when it comes to holidays most often I’d rather call out for Pizza, gulp down a few soda pops and stare mindlessly at sports on TV than anything else. Now I like a good party as much or more than the next guy, to me good parties don’t involve the need to push religion, go to church, or pray for anything other than my mercy. In which case prayer is probably ok since its to me and I get to enjoy your suffering. Ever doubt that god is a Sadist? Look around! A good holiday includes heavy drinking, something other than baked ham, a multitude of raucous parties to choose from, scantily clad women, and things that go boom, crash, or bang. And like a good party a good holiday has a nice palpable amount of sexual tension.
It might just be me but religiously themed holidays tend to miss that mark ever since the fall of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Which brings me to the topic of Easter and or Bunnies. The holiday I most recently survived as a pagan in the holy land of the mid west; a place where there only thing there is more of than banks is churches.
This holiday started like so many others. I woke up which all in all is usually a good start. A pot of Coffee and Two mindless movies (Old School and Back to School) before everyone else woke and off I went out to gather breakfast while the good god fearing folks were in church.
Then came the family obligations… it really is difficult being a pagan in a Christian world. Just a week before at a party some one pointed out a nice young lady in her mid to late 20’s and said she had known her since youth group. I told them that’s too bad I thought she might be a fun girl. They vehemently insisted that she was until they realized what I meant. They blushed, I grinned like the Devil.
Now I know there are all types of Bunnies. I had a fuzzy white one named Dana as a kid. There are longer eared, fluffy, short hair, Playboy, Easter, and my favorite – Bondage Bunnies. Now I like playboy bunnies but that’s not the topic at hand its the fact that yet again the day that celebrates Bunnies like no other was filled with chocolate and food and the never ending competition of who loves Jesus more the the Presbyterians, the Baptists, or the New evangelical types that stalk my neighborhood. Despite all these religions duking it out in God’s name there was not a single new bondage bunny for me to play with at any of the festivities that I attended.
It’s disappointing. It’s like wanting a new toy on Christmas and getting a fucking GAAP text (Generally Accepted Accounting Principals). Oh sure there was the requisite hot but totally nuts brunette there to tempt me, the generations of family gathering in celebration, violent ground acquisition games played as people pushed and shoved in the pursuit of a magical money bearing plastic egg. I choose not to participate for fear of trampling the young and elderly. Rather I watch from the sides standing near a blazing bonfire with my most frequent of addictions in hand – caffeine.
It was in fact a pretty good day. This city boy went to the country. I got to see chickens (hot sauce and deep fryers were not involved), talk about killing stuff, and gambling (which despite my many vices this is not one of them) and there were even chains involved. Usually when chains are involved I’m a happy boy but this time it was to pull a car out of the mud with a tractor. Lame American made cars in bondage isn’t even my idea of a good time.
If only some mythical creature would have left me a few new bondage bunnies all would have been perfect. Oh well now its time to gear up for the next big holiday the immaculate feast of things going stupid fast and intoxicated loose moralled spectators. It involves things might go bang, catch fire or blow up, The Indy 500. Sure its not Shibaricon but fast cars and drunk girls is never all bad in my world. Speaking of which I still need to pay Hammer for my tickets off to write him a check.
Finally a postlude
Before the “Jesus Saves” crowd freaks out AGAIN and starts spamming me (again) with liturgy based mumbo jumbo or intending to save my pagan godless soul I am not claiming to be god or a deity of any sort. I’m happy that you love the lord, that’s great keep loving him and being happy about it I’m not trying to stop you. I love a lot of things but I’m sure don’t want all the details so spare me yours OK? Yes I know I’m going to hell the nuns told me that in second grade.