Alice's Tasks

 

It’s interesting recently i was asked did i give Alice tasks very often?  I had to think about it. Sure in the context of BDSM tasks are often part of the dynamic.  Wether a greeting, a good night, or other ritual. And then there are other tasks that get assigned. The fact is i’m not a tasks kind of guy. It’s not something i traditionally do. In fact outside of a request for a certian toy or implement to be brought along on occasion I can’t recall assigning a task to anyone else.
Hell calling a spade a spade in kink terms one could argue she’s not mine meaning she wears Raven’s clollar (she does self identify as being in a relationship with me, bottoms to me and is obviously a dear friend/chose family). So who the fuck am i to give her a task let alone a series of them? For clarities sake I consider her to be mine in a shared sense and the context of our own dynamic.
In kink terms tasks are not anything we ever discussed, negotiated, or even joked about. That is beyond buying her a shoe shine kit and polishing my boots.  That was 3 or so years ago and my boots are still waiting to be shined but she has been spanked soundly for failing to provide that requested service.  Funishment really but it was just another reason to bare her butt and give it a number of good swats.
Yet this year i have given her several tasks outside of a scene or preparation. I’m not omnipotent or one who typically assumes dominion over others. Though admittedly do worry about my friends. So why suddenly did  BDSM tasks become something for us?
It really did require some thought. It was something that just kind of happened.
In some ways it is a way to stay connected. In other ways to build up to the scene she has coming and the beating her bottom is going to recieve. And also to keep her involved in the site.  And perhaps to get inside her head.
As wonderful as Alice is she is one who pushes and the tasks she has done so far and the ones yet to be assigned are a way to do all the things listed above. A way to keep her thinking about what is coming and make sure she is truly ready. Because waiting for the unkown can be a lot of fun or the worst part.

Electrifying

“It’s Electrifying!” – Danny Zuko – Grease
So a Tens unit is an electrical device often used as part of recovery from injury, relaxation, and to some extent conditioning by Medical staff and athletes. In the hands of a true sadist and an electrically excited slut it can create an entirely different type of jolt.
The sounds it elicits are hellishly divine, the pleading of every type  that ensues absolutely delicious, and the arousal is nothing short of electrifying for all involved.
a tens unit attached to a womans pussy
Give the lips a little click to see all the other very sexy sinners. It’s tempting go ahead I know you want to.

Sinful Sunday

Blue and Pink

Blue and Pink…a look, a mood and what a night of darkness lifted.  Sometimes you need to find yourself again.  Sometimes the only thing that will lift the blues is feeding your needs, letting go, and a little bit of pink to chase away the blue.   .
Mal in a blue winter weight sport coat with a pink dress shirt

And of course what is in a hand, or a look…all are just tools of my wicked trade.

Click the lips to see all the other sexy sinners

Sinful Sunday

Darkness, Kink, and Orgasm Participant #2

Darkness, hidden deep in your tarnished  soul
So feed it a brunette you use to know
You missed the moans, the pleas, and screams.
As the night swallowed both her and me.
Not complicated and it never was
Just a loose one, her, and a little fun
Not much for words. She prefers to act
Pinned to the wall, cold stone against her back.
She told him that she knows something about him has changed.
Like anyone really stays the same.
He can not say he did not touch but outside of her getting the hand the belt and a old hair brush
Other than that he mostly watched.
Then then they talked and had coffee and cake.
She showed her marks and the wet spot she made.
So she was kissed and used and soundly spanked.
And blushed a little when she said good bye and told him thanks.
It’s just a game they use to play.
And rediscovered late yesterday.
A little harmless dirty fun.
The moments passed and once again done is done.

Nipples Three Way

Well its kink of the week time once again and of course I’m up against the deadline. So let’s get straight to the point of this trifecta on nipples.
First up my nipples.
So a few fun facts about my nipples…
1) They are even by male standards very small. I suspect that somewhere in the future if males evolve to not have nipples my blood line will be on the front end of evolution.
2) I pierced them myself at 20. It didn’t last long as the damn rings kept getting caught in the sheets when I’d sleep (of course I always slept nude in those days). I had not considered the sexuality aspect of such an action at the time. It was merely for decoration and to be shocking. Once upon a time I had a body that was mostly naked, most of the time. This was at the height of that period. Barbells were a foreign concept, nipple piercings were only rings in my limited world view at the time.
3) In my world it is often if not always a bit Nippy out. Mine are usually erect when it’s cold (no surprise) when my heart rate is up (high beams while lifting and running go hand in hand for me), or when my testosterone levels are high. T shirts under dress shirts are mandatory for this reason.
4) Most of my lovers have never thought to pay any attention to them. And until now it never occurred for me to ask.
5) I’ve never played with my nipples while masturbating. It doesn’t fit the movie in my head where bad things are being done to you that I use to get off. Well that and like number 4 I never really thought of it.
So with those facts stated really my own nipples are truly more of a running joke about etching glass, impaling people and others very similar than a regular erotic zone. When the Blonde pays attention to them it’s a nonverbal cue that has developed over the years that she wants me to spend some or a lot more time with hers in the immediate future. Which takes us to the next section
Secondly nipples, nipples, and orgasms other my own.
As if the end of the previous paragraph wasn’t enough of a hint put very plainly the amount of time some people’s nipples spend getting attention from me almost always end up in my mouth, between my teeth, being rubbed, caressed, squeezed, and pinched. The Blonde can be brought to the edge and occasionally past it with the right type of nipple play. It is the one almost failsafe way to get her soaking wet eveytime. The nipples are the one area of her body where she is most verbal about…want to make her moan, pant or even scream and not hold back? Yep figure out what works on her nipples on that given night. She will try to muffle her orgasms from vibes, fingers, fucking and just about everything else but the nipples for some reason or another make her let go of herself…in a very good way.
She’s not the only lover I’ve had that loves nipple play which takes me from the vanilla to the kinky…
Nipples and Ds
1) Pierced or Not – In context of a scene whether they are pierced or not doesn’t matter to me but it does change what I do, how I do it, and in some cases the amount or type of stimulation applied. That dais I do have a special thing for ones that are pierced. Visually it makes them extra appealing, I always like the acknowledgment that a person is into something and for the most part other than my stupid younger self most people with these type of piecings do so for erotic reason (or so I have found). An indication that something about them really works for you.
2) Clamps, clothes pins and clovers – all in the toy bag depending on who, what and when. Everything from the harmless little rope nooses connected with a chair that are mainly for stimulation to brutal clamps with weights.
3) hot and cold – Wax play for me and others has basically been nipple centric all along. Sure the breasts get included, occasionally other body parts get drizzled on but it has always been about candle wax on the nipples long before it go put anywhere else. Cold use to be an occasional part of play, even vanilla fun and by that I mean using vanilla ice cream on them. Ice cubes are fine too and less messy but nowhere near as tasty. I like to literally make her part of dessert every so often.
4) Liquid latex – it was a few different pairs of nipples that first inspired me to buy a jar of liquid latex.
5) Pinch, pull, and bite – simple put yes just in a different context than this type of play in vanilla sex.
6) Popes and wheels and begging oh my. They’re engorged, ultra sensitive, and maybe even marked and sore; bring out the wheel and let the real fun begin. Beg me to stop, beg me to continue. Tell me how it hurts, how it turns you on and what else you’d like to have done to you.
In conclusion
Are nipples a kink for me? That is a tough one. The initial reaction is no. While they are something I’m fond of, have spent a fair amount of time stimulating, torturing, and what not and while I certainly like nipples for various reasons I’m not sure they’d qualify as a kink in and of themselves. But on second thought maybe I just have too much fun with them to not be a kink.

A Freak and His Leash

Leash Kink of the week

The first person I ever walked on a leash was a nearly nude young woman named Stacy.  Now if it had been done for play in private it would have been fun but not nearly as note worthy.
Instead imagine yourself in a dark club and out of the shadows comes a long black haired skeleton figure clad in a second skin of leather, no shirt, and a leash in his hand leading a barely legal, not exactly dressed young woman on to a stage with two hellish red lights barely breaking small parts of the blackness of the room.  The smell of lust, testorone, and violence filled the air.  Moments later all of that would be drown out by a shieking angry voice and our demonically distorted guitars. Cue the swords and baby doll decapitations.
Life is stranger than fiction and this was a case of my kinks still largely closeted or so i thought being played out very publicly.  Since no one would do this in private right? Yeah we all know better than that.
So this time around Kink of the week the topic is leashes. Before we get to it let me tell you that pre goth kids in the 90’s when leash wearing souless lost youth of America invaded suburban shopping malls and Korn’s ode to it that seeing a woman being led like this was so overtly sexual the only place other than stage I had ever seen such a thing was on South Street in Philadelphia in 87 and Hamilton Ontario later the same year.
Now with that bit of probably irrelevant personal history behind us let’s get to the topic in more recent history.
Leashes are a funny thing, a prevertable with out a doubt and it doesn’t take much effort to find sites littered with subbie men and women being led around on them.   Sometimes it associated with puppy play or something simiar. But it is just as easy to see it in a purely submissive image. I’ll admit that a woman attached to a leash will always get my attention.
Now the other part of the imagery i notice she is always compliant, with just enough arc in the shiny silver chain. Not straining against it, still wild and trying to break free.  There may be practical reasons for this but i can’t help but wonder why this is. Probably becuase the dreamy dom type and the perfect subbie would never challenge each others role and make them seem less than the fantasy story ideal.
Maybe there’s special instructions in the good guide to perfect submission that reads something like “Never pull on your leash, it is considered very poor formand the ultimate disrespect to some god like top.  Additionally no one wants to see you gagging like an over excited Labrador”
Oh right back on topic. Leashes don’t really figure into my own kink. In part because these days i don’t view collars as part of my own kinks. Of the play partners i have that are collared to another person I would not dare attach anything to it with out both parties explicit permission. There are those who wear collars for play. It’s easy enough to view them at a party or gathering but none of them have me in their rotation so that isn’t an opportunity.
Now i’m not saying no. It’s not that there isn’t an interest and i certianly find the idea of having a submissive near by (looking as wanton and well behaved as all the pictures) highly appealing. Because frankly that is a pretty hot thing as i think about it.  In fact i’m imagining a few people that way right this minute…mmmm.  Guess that answers that; time to update the bucket list.
Kink of the Week

A view from a Top – pre, during, and post scene

Are you a Top? Are you a compulsive planner? Well if not this might be new ground for you. If so maybe you will enjoy my ocd control freak approach.
Recently I got to indulge in some long overdue play. It was also to be a punishment which is something I don’t do very often and typically don’t enjoy.  So the decision was made to take a different approach; one in which made the day long build up to the scene connective and thoughtful rather than just cold which is often what happens for me in a punishment dynamic. Which is often the past approach that didn’t work for me.
 
My goal was this
1) Create a build up that was exciting for her, a little frustrating,  and put a few questions in her mind how bad it might be.  She was to be aroused and on edge and nervous all at once. In general I think we got there.
2) She had all but laughed off some intense and hard play in the past; after all is was supposed to be fun but this time i wanted her marked and very tender for days. As of writing this 5 days later she still was bruised and sore.
3) Take her somewhere new..head space wise – Since this was a scene of a different flavor it was important to have a different feel to it. Normally our relationship is more Top/Bottom with a running diatribe about her being an alpha sub.    Time together not just the scene was long over due and worked in more of a Dom/Sub style than anticipated or imagined possible.   Sometimes i will go with the flow this time i staid in my Domly predisposition and kept bringing her back to why we were there…”this is a punishment”
4) Plan for contingencies -On the Alpha sub not was that part of her going to show up, was she going to challenge her fate, or dare me to escalate the scene.  SO options had been pre-thought about with unspoken changes for given reactions or behaviors.  She was a good girl and i didn’t have to use any of them but was fully prepared to do so.  And one guess would tell me she knew that this time.
5) Make it memorable – At the end of it all i wanted the day to be something special. it was for her after all…all of it.  I was doing my part by doing what I had promised i would.  Along the way i left her with mementos, memories actions and a few other things.   The marks and soreness would be a reminder for days but hopefully the rest of it and the remembrance of those marks and the discomfort will feed her fantasies fondly for a while to come.
 
The in scene process began with her completing the preparations I asked for through out the entire day. Some were mundane others were sexual in nature. You could feel the nervous excitement in the air. Then it was time to begin.
 
Part one the warm up that wasn’t a warm up. Sure I told her I would grant the request of a warm up and in a way did by letting her start bent over with pants and panties on. That was where my benevolence ended. She would have loved a slow gradual build up otk. She would have been drunk on the closeness and would have ground into my lap sensually and pleasurably.  Instead she got a very hard fast hand spanking that lit up her bottom up completely.  In some cases it would have been intense enough to have been the entire punishment or a complete scene.  As she commented about it after I paused. “Well you are being punished so this should feel like discipline. Pants down bend over and stay there it’s time to really start.” The tone had been set, the first chance to respectfully question the intent was rebuffed and set her head space firmly.  It my belief that most of the remaining scene and her own tolerances were affected by those few seconds as any of the build.
 
Thus began the implement parade a mic of wood, leather, lexan and rubber. Along the way i varied intensity and speed. I went more for sting than thud even with my delivery knowing she gets off on thuddy.  In part it was me being mean, along the way making her recount that this was punishment and why. Then i hit her in a spot that made her jump, cry out and it was clear was not normal. It wasn’t that hard, it wasn’t high or low but it was obvious something wasn’t right.   As she explained it had been sensitive beforehand but she deemed it out of range.
 
Now we had done pre scene talking, reviewing the particulars, re-establishing safe words all the right things. I chastised her lightly when she admitted to not telling me. After all no matter what I wanted this to be a good experience when it was done. During a pleading glance that seemed to say both “don’t be mad” and at the same time time” more …”please don’t stop” I gently stressed next time she needs to tell me in advance. Then after a brief recovery period we agreed to continue.
 
Now that’s. Not say I didn’t adjust because I certainly did.  For starters I opted to keep her in that position more than planned. We establish a mid way safe word to slow the scene if needed and worked one side of her bottom more than the other. The varied intensity showed up in how she marked and was evident for days.
 
Sassy Mouths Get More than their Spanking – Then we reached the intermission which was a mouth soaping. To say she got it good would be fair but it was really only a minute all in all.   30 seconds with the dry bar in her mouth. A brief rest and rinse then 30 more seconds with a very wet lathered up bar in her mouth rubbed inside her cheeks and on her tongue. This was new for us but “earned” for a long period of bratting me.  I gave her time to brush her teeth, recompose herself and even let her step out for a smoke before beginning the next part of her spanking.
Along the lines of the contingencies had she fought me, sassed and bratted, or disobeyed it would have gone much worse for her with stinging swats with the lexan paddle with the soap still in and little more than a minute to clean up before being taken back to task. I was even ready to fig her with a huge piece of ginger if she pressed it.     Instead she was a very good girl so i treated her as such before finishing her spanking.
board of education spanking paddle with a catA good dose of wooden paddles – Let’s face it I like using wooden paddles and  the reactions and after effects they have.  So it was hands on the knees for 25 with a the Christmas gift from a few years back.  10 each building in intensity from the previous, a pause then 10 more in the same way.   The last 5 all very well measured and very firm.  The last enough to be a punishment in and of itself.  It was the first time i got to use it and while the handle was far from perfect it had a great feel and I like wielding it.  She held position, gasped and tensed and it was delicious to watch and be part of.
 
Then with Oak School Paddle the “Big Girl” paddle – in the same challenging (or painful) position. The swats followed suit the same as before.  Her bottom before even break out the wood had taken hundreds of smacks or more.  This was the time to push closer to the edge and unlike the earlier part of the spanking she was very focused on bearing it and counting.  And well I was focused on her sit spot to ensure an adequately unconformable next day.
 
Shiny Red –
The paddle and her bottom were both very shiny and very read so with 25 more swats to go out came the meanest paddle of them all and her position went vrom bared and bent over with her hands on her knees to grabbing her ankles.
 
A Whoop’in with the Belt a birthday spanking with a belt. It was measured and rhythmic and allowed her to finally go into sub space and enjoy this piece of the ride even as she counted out each lick of the belt on her raw and already marked bottom..
Postlude…
She was blissed out and bruised by the end.  The last swats with the paddle were little more than flicks of the wrist and taps but she was some where else. The belt was where she finally got to float into the space she likes, and a bit of a playful hand spanking lounging across the bed had her purring before all was said and done.
We connected as she gazed at the vibes, plugs, and other things that didn’t get used.  Perhaps next time. It was time for me to take my leave, hand her back to her caring partner and to finally be allowed to cum.
 
 
 

Riding Crops are my Kinky Greeting Cards

The topic for Kink of the Week happens to be Crops. Do I have a crop fetish? In a very big way they are one of my dirty little secrets but odds are not in the way you might expect. First you need a bit of back ground on my geographic location. I live 3 towns past the edge of what I consider civilization. In comparison to many I do live in the suburbs, 45 minutes or so outside of a relatively large city with 3 professional sports teams (since that seems to be how American’s define large cities). However by my estimation the residence is in the seventh circle of hell. It is a tactical error I’ve lamented for nearly a decade and will be correcting by the end of 2014 one way or another. Now back to the topic at hand.
There is though one upside of wading through the pickup trucks, country music fanatics and other rural and suburban pure vanilla sub cultures; that is easy access to farm supply stores and tack shops. In fact there is one such place three doors up from a gym I go to. And three more with n 10 minutes or so from the house so when I get a little too over run with the locals and their self righteousness, or perhaps feeling a bit melancholy from missing a local kink event due to schedule conflicts, or frankly with a few dollars in my pocket and the deviant need to pervert some vanilla item that can’t be found at the lumber yard I head to them. It brings me a perverse pleasure to know while walking through the other customers that my plans are less than wholesome. So often you can find me on a Saturday morning at the gym going to one or more of them looking at the latest supplies.
And in my own way have begun buying crops somewhat regularly, not because I favor them as an impact toy. It would be extremely rare to find one in my toy bag. They are more of a simple escape than a tool of the trade. Something I can easily mail to friends elsewhere as sort of a thinking of you gift. Often with short notes attached the read “thought this one matched your red heels. Have fun!” So I’ll but ones that are colored that remind me of friends, something that is a favorite shade, reminds me of an outfit or scene, or just because. At times there are more than I would ever use tucked in a storage bin waiting patiently for the day I actually take up riding, or add a play partner with a crop fetish to my life. Until then though crops are part of my kink, not so much as a toy used in scenes but a simple thinking of you greeting card.
And if you run into someone’s vanilla cousin while checking out with a bright teal, a purple, and a basic black crops and they ask “I didn’t know the girls started riding?” you can just smile and say “they didn’t they’re for a few friends who don’t have a good shop nearby.” After all it’s not a lie and they can think about some poor soul stuck in the sticks without a good tack shop while I smile knowingly that they are going to a BDSM type who lives in a city.
A few final (humorous) words.
When shopping at a tack or farm supply store….
1) Beware of overly helpful staff if you don’t know crap about riding other than it involves horses.
2) Country folk can be kinky too. And they can spot “us” as easily as they can real horse people.
3) Fall is a great time for end of season close outs where a 15 dollar piece can be had for 5 which it the price of an actual greeting card.
4) Spring and Easter seems to be the “new” season for this year’s models so to speak. Plus I get to see the chicks and ducklings and for some strange puritan reason like that.
5) Having mud on your boots and jeans helps you blend in. Polished black combat boots when not in a military uniform does the exact opposite.
6) Do not hang out in the parking lot with the country folks and their horses. Your wife will know you’ve been buying crops again because you now smell like a wet horse from petting the damn things.
7) Bitching about the price of riding/horses is a form of camouflage.
8) Actually get the name of a few good farriers from local friends who use them. Linger in any of these shops often enough and someone will ask!
9) Always look at the boots and knives. OK maybe I do that for myself but you can never have too many pairs of boots or knives either!
10) You can say “my wife just read something about ‘50 shades’ and gave me this list. Oh these are the wrong kind of tie downs? It’s not about the old Grey Mare? Well gosh darn!”
Kink of the Week

Playing in the Capital of Sin and Vice – A Rag Doll and Her Puppet Master

Part 1 – My Friend the Rag Doll
Sometimes life imitates art, sometimes we kiss and tell and this is both of those things….for me at the very least.   If you follow me on twitter you may have noticed I was in Washington D.C. last week, this time not haunting the burbs and ducking in to the city proper from time to time but I took up temporary residence at a hotel at the very heart of things that I know and love.  So much so in fact I used it as a setting in my book.  More importantly I also got to steal a few hours one afternoon with an old female friend/occasional play partner, and sticking with the literary theme I used her body as my inspiration for the lead female character.  We’ve had our unique arrangement for nearly 15 years, she plays hard and is a regular with the swing set in her area.   So Yes there are elements from my life in my novel (which desperately needs a real editor before I promote it anymore so don’t go buy it) and Yes for the record the book is fiction.   Also for the record her Hubby was fully informed and aware of our plans…for the most part.  On occasion he likes to watch, this was not one of those times.
With that back ground scene negotiation began days in advance.   No time for a lengthy discussion when we got together, play we agreed would start immediately when she entered my hotel.
“I want you to force me into your room” she stated during our phone call.  Now this is where fantasy and reality don’t work well together.  The hall ways are lined with cameras and the last thing in the world I needed was the DC police busting in on me while playing. We reached an accord. I wouldn’t meet her in the lobby but would wait in the room and open the door without speaking and after she crossed the thresh hold it was game on.
 
“Throw me like a rag doll” she insisted, “hurt me from the beginning”  I love the line she used and I got the point, no easing into things.  See this is where as a Top I’m supposed to admit that I can just flip a switch and play hard with reckless abandon, but I can’t and doubt many others can either.  In general we care about the people we’re playing with.  I want to hurt you but not harm you.  I hung up the phone about 20 minutes before she was to arrive to begin becoming “that guy”.  Sure it’s part of who I am and never far from my façade but still it takes a few minutes to go from daytime Mal to play time Mal. If the day time guy showed up the most sadistic thing I could do is make her read financial statements & contracts.
 
She was 10 minutes late…probably on purpose because she knew it would drive me nuts. There was a knock on the door it opened and she stepped in (a key had been left for her at the front desk).   I grabbed her forcefully and spun her around, one wrist in hand my other arm around her upper chest.  I easily have a good 8 inches and 130 pounds on my friend.   She fought very little, dug her heels in once or twice as I dragged her through the entry way into the main bedroom.  Not what I expected.
Then with a little more space she decided to finally fight back a bit as she sprang to life. It was a short skirmish which ended unceremoniously with her pinned face down half across the bench and half across the end of the bed, her dress slightly displaced and me really laying into her cute little g string clad ass with a purpose from the first swat.  “I thought you’d have learned to just take it and get it over with by now” I growled into her ear after a few that were hard enough to fill the room with the sound of flesh beating flesh and make her tense up. Then I really went to work.  About 5 minutes later with her ass on fire and my hand not much worse for wear I kissed her hello while we caught our breath.
 
The Capital of Sin and Vice Part 2 – Playing Sadistic Puppet Master
Never let it be said that I’m not a man of compromise.   So after the beginning described in part one and a few other fun but run of the mill quick scenes, a little more spanking,  a bit of prolonged hard tit slapping (her thing not really mine) and pinching she went to her bag and said “I want you to use these”.
Friends that brings their own toys are fantastic, friends that bring toys to play with I don’t own are even better, but a friend who brings something I’ve never even dreamed of are very, very special.  She is a bit of a high end girl and in her hand was what most of us would call a zipper,  You know some clamps or clothes pins with a string tied to it. In her case is was two long lines of silver clamps of varying sizes running end to end on a matching delicate looking chain.
I must have had that look like “Clamps, cool” but then came the instructions “Run them from inner thigh to the top of my tits”.  Again based on her reaction it was obvious I was missing something.  Unceremoniously her G string hit the floor leaving her with nothing more than a red butt and equally abused breasts contrasting against her smooth pale skin and a mess of long tussled locks.  “Like this” taking the new toys with her as she sat on the dressing bench that somehow or another had made its way toward the center of the room.  The 1st clamp went on one inner thigh, just above the knee, then the same on the other leg and she worked her way up to just shy of her pussy and laid back “You put on the good ones and keep going”.   I love women who are not shy but by this point I thought I had caught on.
What made this interesting on a variety of levels is this was never something we discussed, yet she knew I wouldn’t say no.  Why would you? Her game, not a hard limit and a beautiful woman is asking you to help her out…works for me.   It was a different kind of play, sometimes I’d put the clamps on and just let them sit for a while, others times I would rip them all off within seconds of finishing placing them.   Eventually I took to towering over her playing with her body, reading her eyes, and drinking in her gasps I came into my own with our little game.  A tug on this end of the chain and a pull on that end, I got so four clamps could be pulled off at once, or could make it seem like I was going to do that and then only pull one.  She’d gasp, and the look at me vengefully as I continued to toy with her, my little rag doll like a puppet master in the rafters our only tactile connection…a few strings.
All too soon our time ended.  On the ride down to the lobby she lifted her dress to inspect (or admire) herself. “We’re in a glass elevator”  she didn’t seem to care.  The well dressed men in the lobby looked at us, her in her heels, little black dress and and tussled locks and then there was me in my oldest Levi’s, a slightly sweaty black T and tattered Jesus sandals.  Rounding the corner toward the Metro I hugged her one last time, a kiss on each cheek, and as she turned a final sound swat on her beautiful bottom.  Maybe in appropriate in public, maybe a little too hard even over a dress for most to consider it playful but neither of us cared.  As I headed back to the elevator the suited men were looking at me like I was an Alien.  “Afternoon Gentlemen” I greeted them, one nodded.  The rest still gawked looking at me and then I imagined her disappearing into the distance and then me again.   Sometimes I can’t resist, I try not to be a dick, I try not to be a braggart, and try not to involve others who aren’t in on the game. And sometimes I can’t help myself.  One of the younger straight laced types was looking at me like I’d just killed the pope  “Don’t worry skippy.  She likes it…a lot” and with that the ding of the elevator carried me away.  Maybe the rest of his friends could explain it to him later I had to shower and head to the evenings event.
 
 

Thank you for Flying Sadist Airlines – An Epic Poem

 

Thank you for Flying Sadist Airlines

After a bit of reflection and mainly becuase I’m halfway through an unabridged version of Canterbury Tales for my current pleasure reading I’ve decided to try to write a post in a classic epic poem style meets Dr Seuss.  Which is really nothing more than a way to potentially justify my poorly constructed and overly complicated sentences and bizarre rhyming scheme.  Thank you for being masochists and indulging me by reading even just a little.
 
-Mal

Part 1 Into The Darkness

All of this is true and none of it is true.  Perhaps the events had happened a millennia ago and perhaps they happened in the residence next to where you are right now in the moments that only recently passed.  This is the tale of the times, of today, and of tomorrow. They are the words also of legends of old, and of moments as modern as the moment you are in and as old as the universe.  It is all completely true and an utter lie.
The wind whipped through the cool autumn air. That much I can assure did really occur.  And as the temperature fell and the moon glowed soft and golden in the sky. The night was alive with far too many voices.  Still despite it all somehow the possibility of magic lingered on the breeze and with it evil and wickedness simply waiting their turn.  In the distance as our fair damsel made her way hastily across the black hard darkness that blanked the earth.  She was in tow, and captured, and without even the slightest resolved to escape the fate that awaited her.  Willingly unwilling and all too caught up in the surroundings to think better of things but as the story goes sometimes the things we crave are not the things we should admit to wanting most.
But admit is exactly what she had done, time and again; with reckless abandon. Truer words have never been spoken and great lies lied within them.  But rather than run like so many before and what would have been of soundest intellect and purest mind to do she followed dutifully chattering harmlessly with the one who escorted her from the deep darkness into the unyielding of the light.
There are of course times when things like this occur. Where what is obvious seems less so and what is hidden seems so painfully obvious.  Mythic tales of hardship and triumphs, of fool hardiness and destruction; which was ahead?  Knowing what was behind remained yet unresolved.    So the tormentor began his game with subtle suggestions and playful banter.  She had no idea what laid before her.  What wickedness awaited but only that there would be pain and a slight hint of ecstasy, torment and relief, surrender and in it escape that words never quite seemed to do justice, simple things first, necessities and treats, provisions for the journey that somewhere in the future she could enjoy. Things that he would undoubtedly share with another, so is the plight of a wanton woman when the Demon has another on his mind. Her mind, body and twisted little soul by her own design very much shared with so many.
So the journey continued as our damsel was given the option to choose some devices of her own torture, as adornments for the future, and reminders of the sweet and delicious torment that was yet about to come but would long after concluding be dwelled upon as marks, on the body, mind, and soul.
Remembering things long forgotten as he taunted her with what was yet to be endured, reminding her not so gently that she had earned ever uncomfortable moment that lay in her future and that if nothing else he was going to leave his mark on her in a way that even previous evils had not.   All true as anything and all of which were just words to her as her mind weighed the possibilities of what he had meant.   His intentions were quite specific but the details of which were with held leaving her to wildly contemplate her own fate.
Back out of the light and into the darkness she was sent, trailing behind him. His lust and wickedness was about to be spent.  Dodging shadows and light, as the start of her night was beckoning and within the hour the moment of her duress would soon be at hand.
 

Part 2 The Road into Hell

His boots on the stairs, the door closed and the world left behind.  They ask was she ready because it was her time?   The hour was calling and yes her time was here. She nodded with a lot of excitement mixed with just a small batch of fear.
So over she went like a good woman should and he laid into her soundly with a stern piece of wood.  It burned and bit with every impact the beginning was ending, really just two from the last. Then one of the wicked who  was watching the sights.  He called out an idea with sadistic delight. “Why she’s not counting and you know that’s not good. You should start over and give a few extra just because you know that you could.”
And with this the one laughed with paddle in hand. He said “let’s start all over, count out loud do you understand?”  She gritted her teeth and dared him a smile.   As so they began once again in the very same style.   The room filled with smacking, and swooshing, with sensations and sighs.  A few muffled mumbles for what he did to her hide.
And once they got there after beginning again, went from zero, to heaven, to hell in those ten.  Which totaled out 18 because they because of the new start . He hated falling just short of 20 with all of his heart.   So two more “extra” were harshly applied, and she gritted her teeth and lost herself deep inside.  A few of those swats had left her well marked with an ass so it red it probably glowed  in the dark. One would think she was bitter. But she was not bitter but hot. She loved every moment even the two extra, extra, extra, hard swats.  And one would expect this was the end of our tale but it is just the beginning of her road into hell.
 
So off with the jeans, on to her panties, and then and on the bare.  He whipped her with leather it seemed only fair.  She squealed and she loved it with each solid stroke.  So he hit some more while the men laughed, and they joked.   Then onto the hand because it only seemed right, and if all went as planned it was the start of her night.
 
 

Part 3 Descent and  Elevation

With night in the fore ground and not in the past, they gagged her, and pushed her and once again started to laugh.   Thrown down on the bed so nice and so soft they brought out the blind fold and she nearly scoffed.  The games men play are wicked at night, but she was all theirs and tucked well out of sight. She drooled into her gag with small bit of shame.  She laughed at her plight and recounted how much she loved their sick game.  Her bottom was glowing, still slightly ablaze as the ropes then appeared to bind to her frame.  Hands tied to knees, and flat on her back they spanked her bottom, her pussy and legs but just on the back. And then he said something while she was catching her breath but on went the blind fold there would be no time to rest.
Her mind raced a little, faster, and more.  She wondered what wickedness they had in store. Whips and leather, more wood and sins of the flesh.  They would push the limits they wanted to test.  Then there was just silence.  Oh what could that mean?  Then she heard a loud buzzing and wanted to scream. Not tender, not gentle, no pleasure, just pain. Not soft and not slow, they held her legs wide all as part of their game.
They took her to heaven through the bottom of hell and wouldn’t relent until they had emptied her well.   She squealed, and she shook and they held her down.  Making her shake from the tips of her toes to the top of her crown.  And when that wave had passed there would be no respite.  They simply continued the hellish and orgasmic delight. While pinching and pushing, while keeping her there, until she crested again and again and was fully aware.
She shook and she shattered and continued to shake. She wondered and thought about what else they would take.  And when she was wasted, a soaked drooling mess. They’re loosened the ropes and before she could rest.  They uncovered her eyes, and mouth just in time. As her gaze met his met the Demon’s he offered “Thank you for flying Sadist Airlines”
 

Part 4 –

So women seem wicked and often men  also do  .  But even in evil there is often good too.  They hugged her and kissed and they brought her back down but not before she’d come once more like a flood destroying cities and towns. And the dark one he drifted off into the night while two stayed behind to enjoy other delights.
And this brings to the end of our little tale, how you can find heaven from dark depths of hell.  If you ever should wonder what evil is like, it the thing that laughs with you in the still of the night.  It’s the words that still linger long after their said, and the moments so fleeting that dance in your head.
When pleasure comes calling there always is pain, whether wicked and wanton or modest with shame.   And the words have been spoken and the deeds have been done. Life is too short to not have some fun.
So love all your lovers so pure and so true.  And if you’re like us find something wicked to do.  For nothing is new, only new once more.  And pain can be pleasure for ladies and whores.   So maybe this happened and maybe it’s true. And maybe it’s lie and a lesson for you. Would you dance with a Demon to find your delight, and how often you’ve screamed in the dead of the night?  So I’ll say it once more, just one last time.  Thanks you for flying Sadist Airlines.
 
 
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