Tersely Pertinent

Matt lay dying in his bed.

As he looked around his room,  he knew his time was short.    Sure he knew he could have gone into the hospital and eked out a few more days, maybe weeks.   But here, this was his world, his things, his home.   Here he could bask in past glories.  Momentos from old friends.   Memories of conquests, deserved and not so deserved.     The scent of his darling Silva.

Oh how he loved her!   Other's said how unfair his sickness was.   What Matt thought was unfair was the limited amount of time he got to spend in her life.  His mind replayed the first time he met her in that coffee shop.   She was so scared looking and could not look at him.    Even then Matt wanted to take her in his arms and hold her tight.     

She was so new to the lifestyle and wanted so much to be a part of it!  Her emails and phone calls told him how much she needed the lifestyle and, Matt thought then, it would either scare the crap out of her or she would be a shining star.   So he took a chance and met with her.

As the old cliche goes: the rest is history.    As the weeks turned into months and turned into years, Silvia learned as much as she could.   And all that time, he became more and more enchanted.   Silvia went from protege' to submissive to slave under his watchful eye.    She learned and craved more.   

Tears fell from Matt's eyes over those memories.   Oh how she learned and oh how she craved.

But now his story was at an end.   He could teach her no more.   Not that she needed more, but the time was too short for any more of his teachings.    Matt's only regret was not being there to see the real woman Silvia would become.

He knew Silvia didn't need a protector.   She was strong enough to defend herself, but Matt wanted her to continue to grow within the lifestyle.   He wanted to to bloom, as the rose she was.   But that would take nurturing and that meant someone to tend her.  Someone to be there because he could not be.

Matt's attention came back to the room from hearing a knock at the bedroom door.  "Come" he said, grinning to himself.  Too much Star Trek.  

The door opened and there was his shining triumph coming into the room.   Silvia approached the side of the bed and knelt down.   Always in proper form, Matt thought to himself.   Just like I taught her.  "Madam Webb is here, Master", Silvia said with a slight frown.   She was worried visitors would wear Matt out.  "She says you sent for Her."

"Yes, my Dear.   She and I have things to discuss, before the final sun sets."  Matt struggled to sit upright and then felt Silvia's firm but gentle hands help ease him along the way.   She fluffed pillows behind his back and groomed his hair that had become dislodged from moving.   With delft movements, Silvia got Matt properly situated and then nodded to herself before returned to her position next to the bed.

Matt waved his fingers at Silvia and told her to fetch Webb in.  "Yes Master", Silvia replied and regained her feet and left the room, looking back only once to make sure everything was alright and closing the door behind her.   Matt barely had time to organize his thoughts when there was a knock at the door again.

This time there was a startling looking woman with long black hair  who entered.   She carried herself with every bit of grace as her office of manager of Söt­­ëria, The Club they both belonged to.   Madam Webb's skin, every bit as dark as her hair, was mostly covered with a red satin dress. Scarlet being her favorite color.

She walked over to the side of the bed, Silvia following close behind.  Webb leaned down and took one of Matt's hands in her's,  and asked "How are you doing, Mathew?"   Then she looked back, as she felt a chair slide behind her knees.   Webb smiled at Silvia for the service.  

"I'm dying, Cynthia.  But otherwise ok."  Matt grinned as much as he could at Webb.   They both knew their relationship was built on a no bullshit edict, established years and years ago.  Webb released a small gaffa and then gave Matt a mock stern look.  "None of that now!   You didn't call me here to tell me you were dying.    What do you need from me?"

Matt shifted his eyes from Webb's face to that of Silvia.   "My Dear,"  Matt almost sighed, ' Cynthia and I have a bit to discuss in private.   Please return to your kitchen duties and She will fetch you back when we are done."

"Yes Master.   Mistress."  Silvia bowed to each one and then retreated quietly from the room, closing the door behind her.

Webb looked back at Matt after watching Silvia leave, grasping his hand again with both of hers.   "It's about Silvia, isn't it Mathew"  Webb stated, not asking.  "We both know your will will provide for her.    She get's this house, your money, even your share of The Club.   What have we not covered for her?   She will be in pain for awhile but she can handle herself.  She is as smart as she is beautiful".

Matt shook his head as much as he could, lying there on the pillows.   "She needs instruction.   She needs guidance.  Someone to take up her leash."   Webb's eyes widened at Matt's words.  "But I'm......I'm  not the Domme for her!" Webb exclaimed.  "She  respects me as much as any of the Elders, except you!   But she and I have no connection.   There is nothing but dead air between us.   You know this, you Wombat."

This time it was Matt's turn to laugh.    He carried on for a few seconds before it turned into a slight cough.   Shaking his head again at the offer of glass of water, Matt continued.  "I wasn't thinking of you, Cynthia.   There is someone else who should take my place as Silvia's lead.   Someone I can trust with her.    Someone who I have done wrong and hope they can forgive me enough to take up this task".

Webb let go of Matt's and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.  Then she simply stated "Sarah."

Matt closed his eyes and nodded.

For awhile Matt was motionless.   His breathing shallowed.   Webb wondered if he had fallen asleep when Matt popped his eyes open and asked her to get some paper and a pen from the desk.   She retrieved the needed articles as well as a large book for Matt to write on.    Holding the book steady, Webb watched as Matt wrote a few lines on the paper and then folded it as carefully as he could.

"Please give this to Silvia at my service. Not before.   And tell her.....I'm sorry.  But it is better this way."

With that, Matt leaned back in the pillows and shut his eyes for the final time.

Eyes of Sapphire electrified me 

From across the smoky room

Luring me

Taunting me

Pleading with me

But when I made my way there

Like the Cheshire Cat

They were gone

Leaving only a smile

and a message

Follow me

   Do you all think this is too weird to send to a perspective subbie or what?

I'm pretty sure this one is for the wrists, but Lowe's was out of the 4.5 inch for the neck. But am going to redo my math to make sure.    Got to wait for the wood I bought to dry off anyway.    First time in weeks with rain.    Dammit!

But at least this should keep your interested until I can get started:

  So I am thinking of working on a new project and doing some rough estimates of to build a set of stocks.

  This includes not only picking the type of wood and type of stain, but doing research into what the average neck and wrist circumference is, but also converting that to inches (American educational system) and then finding the diameter (C=D/π).

Course it now means having to go get a 4.5 inch hole saw

If you are currently have problems logging into facebook, you are not alone!

It seems to be a system wide failure of some sort.   Neither me or any of my friends and family can log into their accounts.

Back before there were comic books, a young reader's imagination was captured by pulp magazines.   Within the painted covers of escapism were the daring dos of various Heroes looking to vanquish the villain of  month and restore order to the world once again...

All for the price of ten cents.

But what did these Heroes do in the off time?    Where did they hang while awaiting the next adventure?

My all time favorite of these Pre-Super Heroes was a man called Doc Savage.    

Now Doc wasn't a very deep character.    He could do no wrong and make very little mistakes.    He had five guys who did all that to keep things interesting.   But he solved the problems and saved world in 181 sagas.

But the coolest thing I found about Doc is he had a secret place in the north artic.   A place where he could do experiments and think and rest.    A place where no one could find him.    A place that was his and his alone.

His Fortress of Solitude.

When sales for Doc's mag dropped off and things moved on, an editor for Simon & Shuster moved over to what is now DC Comics.     With him, this editor brought a good deal of ideas with him and intergraded into the Superman lore.

Including the Fortress of Solitude

But it works.   Clark now had a place where he could rest and relax and do things to get himself centered back again and again.    Because even a Superman gets tired.

So what does this brief history lesson mean?

Because I think we all have a Fortress of Solitude somewhere.   

For some, it is a physical place and others, it is a place within.

Some of us admit where it is, for myself, it is never mentioned because to do so would no longer make it mine. 

I hope you all know where your Fortress is and get to use it when you need it.

(Thank you to the girl with the eyes of shining crystal  for this idea blog post)

  When I opened the door,  there stood the little package I had been expecting.    Five foot, two (maybe three) but in her heels she was five eight.  Long, dark tresses running down her back almost matching the black, short skirted dress she was wearing.   Her crystal blue eyes from behind her long natural lashes.  Those eyes latched on to mine as her cherry red lips said "You Matt?"

I nodded and stepped aside ash she strolled in the apartment like she owned the place.    Her head bopped around looking at the paintings and rug and everything.  She hummed to herself as she looked around.  Me, I just let my eyes run up and down her body.   I could tell she wasn't used to walking in those heels.   She almost fell off them as she walked around.    

She was leaning over the desk looking at some books I had open there when I walked behind her and ran my right hand down the open back of her dress.   The dress was like one of those you see at Oscar night anymore.    Her skin was cool to the touch.

"Not yet, Matt" she said without turning her head.  "We gotta talk payment first."

I dropped two C notes on the desk next to her hand and then put my left hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her down against the desktop.   With a slight explosion of air, she gasped "Rough is going to cost you extra."

Dropping two more C's on next to the first two, I leaned over her back and whispered "You do like it rough don't you?" in her ear.    A slight shutter quivered through her body.   I moved her legs apart with my knee as my hand ran up and down her right leg.   When it didn't move as wide as I wanted, I slapped the side of her thigh with the back of my hand.   She then opened up wide for me.

The scent of musk filled my nostrils and being somewhat surprised, I moved my hand to between her legs.   As two of my fingers slid easily inside, the scent increased.  

"My God," I breathed into her ear, " You are a hungry little cunt, aren't you.   When was your last client?"  I could hear a small whimper escape her as her hands grasped the front edge of the desk.

"Two......two weeks..."  She half moaned to me as I slid a third finger into her gushing twat and ran my thumb around her anus.   

"I guess you are not very good at your job, if it has been two weeks.    But then again, guess that means you can be extra special for me, huh."

Letting go of her back, I grabbed her left hand from the desktop and held her wrist at the small of her back.   Pulling out of now soaking pussy, I shoved my fingers around her head and into her mouth.   "Clean those fingers, cunt."    Sucking sounds came from that side of the desk, as I could feel her lips and tongue  wiping away her juice. 

As she finished her cleaning, I turned her head and laid it down flat on the side so she could see the stack of bills.  Then I leaned down and whispered "It's Party Time."

My hand left her mouth and, again, traveled down her back, leaving a trail of saliva and pussy juice down her spine.   Still holding her left hand at the small of her back,  I used my other to flip up her skirt and rip the barely there G string from her hips.    "Hey!  That was my favorite! "  She complained.  

"If it means that much to you, then here..."  I told her as I reach up with the G string and shoved it in her mouth.    Fishing two my C's out of my pocket, I slapped them on the stack before her eyes.

By this time, my cock was granite hard and wanting to come out to play.    I undid my pants and pulled it to where my balls were on the outside of the zipper.   I pulled her as much toward me as I as thrust myself into her wetness.   

She gasped through the G string as I rammed my hips into her's, over and over.  I wound her hair about my right fist and pulled her head back as I grinded myself deeper and deeper into her.   

In time,I felt her shutter and she orgasumed and then suddenly relaxed.  Letting go of her hair and wrist, I grabbed her hips with both hands and finished my task as I exploded myself into her.     I pulled out of her and staggered slightly to a chair next to the desk.   

Sitting here, I watched her as she regained her strength and turned over on the desk to stare at the ceiling.   She then sat up and wabbled over to me on those ridiculous shoes.    With great concentration, she was able to kneel between my legs and kiss me on the lips.

"Welcome home, Master!  You should not take so long of trips without me." 

Booping her nose, I replied "Silvia, my dear.   That is indeed a fact".