The Mages Garden

He doesn't hesitate. He is obsessed with her. He only desires to both please and punish. He slurps and sucks; draining her; every squirt a sweet taste of honey on his tongue. He eats to train. He learns how to awaken her secrets, her madness, her freedom. He eats to watch her become a beautiful demon, saturated in lust, crazed and delirious anticipating and begging for the pleasure in the flick of his greedy tongue. He eats to speak to her soul, pouring into her the love she fucks all over his face. He eats to live. A wise man.

The gift that keeps on giving and giving and giving me pleasure. As soon as those smutty clips meet my eyes my pussy swells and drips and glistens. Tiny hairs stand in anticipation of the cruel heat of the experience. You allow me to linger, tied up, suspended, mulling over the fun to be had my mind dizzy with lust. Parading them in front of me like precious jewels. Making me wait for it as the rest of me welcomes this sweet punishment of the soft, wet flicks of your tongue tracing my skin paired with the sharp smack of the flogger on my ass. Your hands move excitedly over the table of passion plotting the next campaign. Pausing for moments over my favourite treat. The devil is all over your face. But again, you make me wait... Thank you Daddy. 

fresh chilled watermelon

pineapple coconut paletas

honey drizzled over strawberries and blue berries

mango lime gelato sprinkled with tajin

fresh barely cooked sweet corn cob with butter

a thick hard dick and a firm hand

squirter action engaged.

Is it still camping if you just leave the door open and windows leading out to the screened porch to let the outside in? And does it add to the effect when you light a tiki torch bucket as a bonfire? Because its 63 degrees out. An early autumnal gift, crisp night moonlit and a soft breeze. The bed is too big to go on the porch...  Asking for a friend. I am friend. ???????????

Always cherish and live life through the eyes of your inner child. 

Xx

He awoke groggy, sweaty and still hung over to a vision that made him believe he actually was still asleep and dreaming. The humidity of the space slowed his breathing, he began to focus on each breath in an effort to come to consciousness.  Slowly her silhouette blended together to reveal a goddess, the last of the sun's golden light at her back illuminating an aura of warmth and protection around her. He sighed and laughed a little at this sight. Thinking to himself, how his luck couldn't be that good in the end or else why would he have ended up here? Suddenly the silhouette shifted and reached out a delicate hand, it was holding something he couldn't make out.. Instantly, he was all wet, soaked in icy water, catching at his breath. Everything became clear at once and the goddess he thought was there to rescue him turned out to be the sadistic sexy beast who imprisoned him. He let out a growl and began to lunge forward when he sighted just above his head a good reason to stand down. The young man who assisted in the main house was there propped up out of sight holding a very large barrelled shot gun at his head. 

He didn't know what he would have actually done once he got his hands on her. Shaking off the shock, he settled into whatever this was about to become for him.  His mind was full of rage and fight complex over his current conditions.  Yet, his body told another story. He was ravenous for her and bloodthirsty in sync. She made him feel like no other woman had before. He was at HER mercy and wanted to be. Why the FUCK am I here? He manages to say clearly while maintaining composure.  The threat of being shot in the face still looming from the upper corner. But she doesn't respond. Only she hands him a huge silver tray covered in fresh meats and other delicacies.  In her thick accent she snaps, Eat first. She tells him this sweetly but with a note of authority and a little threat as well.  Eat and then we can talk once you've regained your strength and can think clearly. Your life depends on your ability to reason. The condition you are in, well it doesn't help you. My friend here will see that you are fed, bathed and receive newer accommodations.  You after all are my guest for now. I think better things should be in order. If you behave. You try to run, you die. You disobey me, you die. Consequences are always determined and dealt by ME. You got me Mister? 

Rage again welled up inside him. It was visible, he was shaking all over.  She stared at him deeply as if carefully calculating her next action. The man with the gun remained hidden in place silent, aiming and ready. But just then she stepped forward in a flash, before he could process what had happened his back was on the ground and a exacto knife blade sunk into his neck just above the artery. Her scent was dark and sweet, earthy. It was like inhaling vanilla and citrus with sharp tones of some kind of wood he couldn't make out. She smelled delicious and delicate. A far cry from the woman she presented her self as in this moment. His heavy breathing began to subside, she remained strong,her knee crushing into his rib cage. She eagerly continued to press in the blade centimeters at a time until little droplets of blood ran down his neck. Finally once he calmed she stood and spoke. I will give you no other warnings. And then she glided out of the cabana, the same alluring stride extenuating her curves and toned muscles. He felt his dick jump. Once again his body gave into her while in his mind he could choke the life out of her. His hands aren't bound. But he can't bring himself to do it. WHAT THE FUCK! He yells outloud. Grabbing a piece of fresh mango wrapping around it a piece of cured meat he decides with much inspiration (a hidden very large gun to his head) to eat his meal. In seconds the tray is clean and the pitcher emptied. He feels light and refreshed. His situation at the moment doesn’t seem so bad after being sated with such a beautiful meal. The taste of the food here has always drawn tourists. It is a flavor that can't be found anywhere else in the world. The unique spices and location make it a destination spot for only those lucky enough to know about it. Usually big time executives, the affluent and other 'miserably' wealthy kinds of people. Wondering why these facts suddenly matter to him he realises that his vision is skewed. He looks around and recognises nothing. And then,  everything goes black. 

He sat in that dark room listening to the sounds of a the bustling village outside the cabana door. The voices growing faint as the sun shifted across the sky indicating that the business day was about over for many of the merchants. The village square wasn't far from where he'd met HER. A brief wave of comfort welled up inside him realising that while he was not in complete control of his situation, at least he had an idea where he actually was. That sense of familiarity made him feel safe. A once vibrant hue of sunshine now transformed into the golden light of a setting sun bled through the cracks of the cabana walls. Humidity clinged to everything, the walls even cried tears of defeat. Beads of sweat tremble down the crevices of his face , neck and onto his lap. Still bound, the rope like tendrils dug into his raw skin, throat on fire from dehydration, head pounding from the hangover and a tender bruised forehead. An injury he has no recollection of receiving, he laments over the choices made the last 24 hours. Slowly fading into unconsciousness for the third time since he found himself trapped, his eyes close and the soft whisper of the sea is all his mind can contain. 

▪️Elsewhere▪️

I went in to check on your guest. Came a raspy voice from behind her. Eyebrows raised she looked at the old woman with a doe eyed glare of fake innocence. The old woman let out a devious chortle. What is your plan? He can't remain there forever. Soiling himself and hungry. Why did you even bring him here? I thought you were done with these games, beloved. The young woman winced at her matriarchs tone knowing that it meant what she couldn't or wasn't ready to admit. The demons she fought to reconcile herself of past transgressions had surfaced again. What was it about HIM that triggered her into committing this sin? For years she forbade herself from feeding the demon inside her. However when she first saw him on the island, the usual single male tourist full of wanderlust and naiveté; hanging on every round ass and full bust of the village woman his eyes drunk in. She simply loathed men like him. Their audacity sickened her. Something about HIM set her world on fire. She knew it would be easy to lure him into her cave of debauchery.

Now with the man bound as her helpless quarry she had to deal with the disappointment and regret of her choice. Years of redemption down the drain in the blink of an eye. I'll take this tray of food and and drink to him she announced cheerfully to the old woman. Can you have someone prepare the bath and a different space for him to be held in the meantime? The old woman nodded and called out to a young man in the kitchen instructing him to gather provisions and prepare for their guest. A tiny silver spoon topped with a black substance looms over the pitcher of juice, she taps it lightly to release all the contents before stirring in the mixture which doesn't tint the vibrant hue of fresh fruit juice over ice. A decadent display of fresh cured meats, dates, olives, crisps and homemade goat cheese drizzled with honey complimented the tray of drinks. What shall I do with you she sighs as she picks up the tray? Unable to imagine herself again applying her usual tactics for men she captured in the past, she is shaken. Visions of his hands and lips, wet, sucking, groping and completely owning her. She lost control. Her body ached and throbbed at the thought of the night before. What shall I do with you she sighs again walking out the kitchen into the evening breeze heading for the cabana. Biting her lip, feeling her nipples harden under her sundress and a juicy thrusting in her groin setting off wild electrifying vibrations in her body she moans seductively. Before I decide. I must have a little more. 

You know it's a good night when the soundtrack consists of Afro-Latin musica and the sounds of nature. The fall is coming in quickly. My most favourite season. Trees began to yellow noticeably about a month ago signaling the forthcoming chill. Gosh knows I pine for the crisp air, jewel toned leaves fluttering across the road way as I drive by whipping up around the tires... That particularly distinct hue of blue of the Autumn sky, have you ever noticed the difference? Each season has a sky color theme it seems. The colors becoming more vibrant as the months become cooler. Just an observation I've made over the years. I feel. My skin is turning over goose bumps from the icy wisps of air entering through the open front door. Maybe I'll doze off here again.  

He woke up with a seering headache, face head and hands covered in remnants of crimson colored sand. Mouth dry, eyes barely opening he squinted at the single beam of sunshine piercing through the cabana door. It was late afternoon according to the clock on the wall. Sitting up slowly he realised that this was not his room. The familiar and unfamiliar lay out told him that at least he was still on the island. But who's room was this? Scattered around in the dim light were leftover bottles of emptied Pabst Blue Ribbon. The smell of weed and cigarette lingering among the beer vapors. Shaking his rioting head slowly he began to stand. Only to notice that while his arms and upper body are free to move his ankles were bound firmly by a type of rope he'd never seen before. Upon inspection he realised the more he moved to resist his bondages the tighter they became around his skin. Panic slowly welled up in his gut. Flashes of light and desire, the feeling of lightly tearing skin under nails, tasting nipples and skin covered in sweet and salty sweat, a lingering sting of leather tendrils which left dark red streaks across his inner thighs. His visions now unclouded by the stupor of false spirits once communed with, he remembers, HER. That slithering smile she wore. The way she walked across the room weightless as if gravity never knew she existed. She exposed nothing of her face except that smile. One which appeared in a flash and knocked him out of consciousness. It was an inferno, her touch set him a blaze. Her smell was sensuous all he could remember was devouring every morsel of her flesh, worshiping his idol thoroughly. Tangled tounges and lips. Contorted body parts slipping and sliding crashing together. Yet here he was. Oddly. Bound. Head bleeding from a minor injury. Hung over. Covered in sand. Angry as fuck, enraged at the sight of his ties. Dick throbbing, tortured by it jumping involuntarily, slapping the raw welted skin on his thigh over and over as he remembers everything. "But I tied her up" he says to himself confused. Fuming. Thirsty for her. Alone in this room. Marooned on pleasure island... 

There's nothing sexier to me than a man who is firmly in his Masculine energy. A balanced man that knows his Feminine counterparts strengths and encourages her to flourish. This is blissful divinity. ✨️

Mother Nature is indeed Magnificent. 

Utilising only the perfect symphonic pitch to tantalise me into a trance.

So there I was, rocking in my chair in the screened porch. Miles Davis melting my ears along with the sounds of whatever is out there crooning into the night. 

Softly the cool night breeze coils around me. I have been swallowed by the frequency of sound swirling around me. My mind seduced into the calmness. 

I remain swept away, heavy and glued to my rocking chair. Satisfied with this blissful place in time. I rest. 

Only suddenly I am frightened out of the stupor by a hypnotic rumbling sound. It rang through loud enough over the lullabies of jazz and nature to wake me. And then it was when I realised.

I had fallen asleep. Stone cold passed out in my chair. Unconscious to the present world. And it was my delicate snoring that woke me... 

A pity really, my solo performance ruined a pleasant dream. What's worse is falling asleep outside on the porch that sits up above on a mountainous hill where echos reach far and beyond... I was out for a while. Pretty sure my portion of the night time serenade was a hit...