A moment and then another

My mind is full and relentless at the moment. In my focus on deadlines, task completion, commitments, organising and fun, I feel unsettled and constantly rushed. This is when pressure consumes me of my own volition and I lose grounding.

I forget to stop.

I forget to wait, appreciate and refocus my attention to sitting in solitude.

Contented peace and silence seem distant.

Frenzy taken hold, I fear the dissipation of ecstacy. Selfishly, I cling to the sky, fearing the fall to earth.

But rationally I understand states are temporal and I am expecting too much, being greedy with those feel-good feels

It is time then, to return to a place of peaceful waiting, where I rest and reset my mind

Waiting with my whole attention

Patiently

Sitting and waiting in peace

With need for sensations, my skin meets the world, and I take great pleasure waiting in stillness

Enjoying the silence with my attention put to my body.

The focus on detail and stamina takes me away and rests my mind.

Remember to stop and feel - hear those weary cries. 

Sit

Wait

Be

In Peace

So serene ??

To simply sit ?

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

He chuckled at her desperation. This is why he loved to play with her - she was such a willing and responsive delight. He wanted to further explore the inner terrain of this dynamic creature who dripped with desire.

Desperation sat constant  just under the surface - the desperation to be without inhibitions and given over to his use and pleasure. Bliss.

Caught between the cock on the floor and one on the door, the divine creature was frozen in fear. Edging for days and a few close calls, here she was - stuck, dripping, pleading.

"Oh but Sweet Whore, you look so delicious like that. Too good not to savour slowly. Your eyes begging, legs trembling, pussy dripping and you willing me to say those words when I let go of your strap."

He retained his grip of the strap with his left hand, slapped her face and caressed her pussy. Stunned with desperation, she did not seem to notice but his touch made her gush. She moaned and he quickly shoved his wet fingers down her throat. She sucked as if they were her only chance.. of relief... of survival.

"Please Sir," she mumbled through strong, forceful fingers, "I would really like to cum; may I?" 

"No My Whore, you can take more - always you take more. Now shut that cock-sucking mouth of yours and choke on this like the insatiable whore you are." 

He shoves something cold and smooth into her cunt. It vibrates softy. He smacks her asshole five times and releases the strap smoothly till she falls to the base of the cock. She moans and stops her cunt releasing an orgasm.

"Ah ah! Not yet needy whore. Control that cunt of mine!"

She whimpered but does as she is told, "Yes Sir, I will not cum till you say so."

"Good girl. Now show me what a natural whore you are - made for my pleasure. Fuck it and suck it as hard as you can!"

She followed his direction as if she had no need to think about it. No will to choose otherwise. She bounced, winced and squealed a desperate plea as he marked her with his hand till her ass was red and tits tender. His voice grew lower to a growl, he put his cock in front of her face, guided her lower and shoved his cock deep in her throat.

"Cum for me My Whore - cum harder than you have ever cum!"

She plunged down, eyes opened wide, mouth tightened and a desperate moan hummed on his cock. It was deeply felt in her whole body as the water washed through and released all over the dildo and floor. He responded by filling her up with a belly full.

She was once again rendered immobile and he was not done yet. He let her catch her breath and said,

"My best whore, you are made to be fucked -  so bendable and resilient - I will take all of you. Now move your ass off that cock!

?????

Take me to your lair and ravage me for this body needs to be torn. Till I ache as a reminder of my use, my stamina, my capabilities. Till I exhaust my body beyond mobility, my brain melts and my words just hummmm.

Torture and tease me. How I want you to treat me so. Tempt me with your cock till I beg and moan like the whore I am. Take me there - to the highest depravity and drop me. I want to feel the fall and the earth as you take me in the deepest, your spectacular whore as she should be - deliciously and divinely docile.

??️?

I don't want your nice words, your chivalry.

I want you real.

I want you to say little, but observe much.

To know without saying you know.

Your energy does not reside in others.

It is generated in solitude

As you stand apart from the crowd.

Bored by the social simulation,

Your needs are internal.

Your actions consistent to show what defines your purpose.

You know who you are, including your darkest shadow.

And you are not afraid of it.

You are open, present but not a prison.

Not controlling - inspirational - you hold things lightly.

Casually spread naked on the couch, she starts to read with her exaggerated seductive voice. Her confidence is layered with blushing undertones.

Smack.

Her body tightens and words faulter as she continues with more strain in her voice.

Smack.

The shock and anticipation come in quick succession.

Smack. Smack.

Her smile widens as the words struggle to pass the air passage.

Smack.

More force, more impact and more noise. The stinging warmth brings pleasure and her body shows the mind's divide between intake and output.

Smack. Smack.

Her body responds and her determination fights losing control of it as she pushes the words out.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Relentless, her cunt vibrates with pain, pleasure and restraint.

Smack.

Her concentration tested, she calls on more resolve.

Smack.

Her reading is clouded in hysterical giggling.

Smack, smack. Smack.

Forced sounds attempting to be words are pushed out with the joyful, more intense laughter.

Smack.

Almost there.

Smack, Smack.

Full force is used in a series of relentless, loud smacks to the pussy.

Smack, smack, smack.

She fights to keep her legs open as she becomes desperate to finish.

Smack, smack, smack.

The last words spew out as she laughs hysterically, feeling the tingling all over and throbbing in her cunt. They smile with pleasure as he recovers and she thinks about how much his hand must sting, which pleases her. Her laugh calms as she savours the elation of overwhelmed senses and pride. The stinging and throbbing gives her such satisfaction. She relaxes her naked body, closes her eyes and breathes out with a softened sigh.

I adore you.

I desire your flesh

This need starts to take hold

My appetite grows, takes shape

Visions of your beautiful cock

Sit in my sight

Tempting at first, then needing

I can do nothing else

But worship your cock

Worship. Adore. Words do not come near adequate expression. It's an intense feeling of being consumed with desire. There is nothing else in this world that one could want.

Please, Please Sir, 

Fill me with joy. Let me adore you. Let me treasure your beautiful flesh with all of me. Mind, body and soul.

I can do nothing else 

But worship your cock

I need some hours, no distractions, absolutely none.

Because anything that disrupts my focus is unacceptable. 

I can do nothing else 

But worship your cock

Softly, carefully and with all of my attention

Your cock will be explored, caressed, massaged, licked, sucked, stroked, held, looked at, admired, adored, pleasured. Continuously till it is possible to release it from my grip.

Let me please kneel at your feet and stare in admiration. With glistening eye and a contented smile. Let me touch you with the tips of my fingers to feel the smooth, rolling curves. Let me caress all abound, kiss every inch of skin with lips so passionate and adoring, savouring the feel and the memory of such delicious flesh.

I desire so intensely for my tongue to travel, to explore the fascinating and desirable landscape of your cock. Everywhere and forever,

I can do nothing else

But worship your cock

Please Sir, give me what I desire most and I will show you how I adore you.

I can do nothing else

But worship your cock

I don’t want this plastic skin

I don’t want this face

I don’t want my pretence, my self-importance

I don’t want this assault on my skin, these scratchy clothes

Take it all off!

Strip me bare – rip them, wash this pollution from my skin

Take me to the ocean

Throw me in deep, kicking and spluttering

Hold me down till I’m helpless

Still. Let me sink

Make me beautifully broken

Drop me deep below

Stripped bare to be utterly light – to return

Scrubbed

Naked

Glistening

Bare

Peacefully floating

The gorgeous PJ Harvey with 'We Float' 

There's no stopping now. You're all tied up.

Just a bit tighter

Perfect. What a good girl you are!

Deeper. Harder. No breathing yet.

Let's put you up on a shelf. Stay there while I play with you.

You look too comfortable. That's nice. Make the most of being able to move, speak and breathe.

Soon, you won't be able to. That's a good girl now.

Take a brea.......th......

"Don't touch it, Kitten!"

Standing naked in the kitchen with her head jammed inside the fridge, she imagined how her ass looked from the front door. Her pussy, swollen with aching need, cursed her stupid, arrogant ways and decided that this bitch was going to pay.

The head in the fridge spoke back, “I was just making a point; I didn’t think he would ban our play for that excruciating length of time.” With these words, frustrated disappointment echoed from white plastic and rested in her ear. The desire to touch herself became painfully unbearable. She summoned the last of her reserves to focus on the cool air touching her face rather than the fire burning in the lower half of her body. Still the flashes of her ass and pussy getting ravaged persist.

She attempts conversing with her pussy once again, only to be ignored, “I cannot take this anymore. I need to tie my hands or I really will be sorry, and not the good kind of sorry.” Her voice wavered from the teasing melody it usually carried – she really was desperate.

It was a nice idea but she was frozen, immobile with the fear of desperation. For she immediately thought of going straight to the chair and sitting on her two favourite dildos. The fire inside was raging and at least the fridge was keeping it at bay. It must be so late, she thought, and wondered when he was going to return and alleviate this burning desire so carefully engineered.

Frozen in carnal indecision, it was now a matter of life or death.

Her cunt needed to be fed.

It was just like him to walk in at that moment. Of course, he stopped and breathed this fine moment deeply in. This was not going to be easy for her. She needed to think carefully to get what she wanted – needed.

He feigned pity as he watched her writhe with unrelenting lust, carnal desperation to have him take her and relieve her of this base need. She knew he would not be so easily tempted. He knew she held many reserves of determined grit. They both knew she led him willingly to her chosen demise. She had taken her punishment with grace unsurpassed; he was alive with pride. But he could never have even conceived such an engaging and perfect finale!

His blood boiled with the sight, smell and heat in the air; he struggled to control those urges of frantic hunger.

“Please Sir,” she said meekly. “Please, I need you to make me cum.”

“In time kitten,” he said with the air of patient, unconcerned composure. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you suck my cock, then we’ll see.”

She breathed out with a forced sigh as she held back the rage inside her.

The warm, enclosed blanketing of the womb is our ultimate safe space. It is the archetype of safety, love and nurture because it is the first place we experience that connection.

Skin to skin contact and firm embrace are physical needs.

My skin, my body boundless, reaching further and further in empty space, seeking resistance in the form of gentle pressure, of warm embrace, of physical connection.

Emotions and thoughts firing to a state of jumbled nonsense and disconnection.

The awareness of entering a binding session initiates the transition of mind to a calm, focused space. Clarity grows as nonsense departs. Feelings of comfort come to the fore as sensations become acute. 

Attentiveness is easily given to the sensations and physicality of current moments.

A torso harness begins. My body drops into relaxation but is receptive to being molded. It follows instruction with no question or side thought - complete trust and willingness.

Peace, stillness and attentiveness come to me as my focus remains on the sensations of movement and pressure. As the firm rope is extended around my torso I find myself needing pressure and aesthetic balance. My desired firmness and aesthetic sensibility - such an art.

The harness finished binds me in comfort but connected to the world - formed and molded to return to the purity of an infant organism.

I am cocooned. I am bound. I am in submission to what is bigger and what is beyond. I am cocooned.