Random writings

Sometimes with song lyrics intertwined. What? You don't live in your music?
2 days ago. Thu 16 Aug 2018 06:16:48 AM IDT

He came home to find her standing before him in a short black skirt, sheer white blouse, black stockings and black high heels. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra, as he could clearly see her dark, taut nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her blouse. He wondered if she was wearing any panties. Her cheeks were flushed. He looked at her and smiled, saying "What have you been up to my dear?"

She grinned, a Cheshire cat grin, and took his hand gently in hers. She slid their joined hands up her leg and he could feel her bare skin just above the lacy tops of her thigh high stockings. She kept pressing his hand higher. Suddenly he felt that she did indeed have a scrap of cloth covering her, though such a small amount of material should hardly be called panties. The fabric was wet with her liquid heat. He stifled a small groan as he slipped his fingers beneath the material and felt the vibrator gently humming, buried deep in her cunt. And his eyes widen a bit as he realized she had another, smaller toy in her ass. Pulling his hand away, he smiled at her. "Been a busy girl this evening I see. All hot and bothered. Decided you'd take care of yourself or at least get yourself worked up so that I would then take care of you ... did you cum?"

She slowly, barely, shook her head yes. He grinned and pulled her closer, pressing her tightly against his body. His hand moved up her back, brushed the back of her neck, and his fingers entwined in her hair. Pulling gently but firmly, just enough to cause her to gasp, tilting her head back a bit until she looked up at him. He held her gaze for a minute, feeling his own body tense as her lips parted and her breathing became more ragged. Tugging a bit more, he leaned down, his teeth finding the top of her ear, biting down until she groaned and her body trembled against his. Whispering in her ear, he asked "Are you allowed to play with yourself and cum without my permission slut?" He felt her try to shake her head no, knowing her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't force out the word. Pulling away, he looked down at her again. "And I'll bet you think you deserve a spanking for that?"

He saw the gleam in her eyes before she quickly lowered her gaze and looked down at the floor. He could see the blush rise in her cheeks, no doubt from the combined embarrassment of her brazen behavior and her excitement about what he might do to her. He felt a rush of power as he leaned close once again, softly kissing her cheek, whispering "Well my girl, I figure that's exactly what you're hoping for, so it will be more punishment if I don't give it to you." He felt her sharp intake of breath. Stepping back he could see the shock in her eyes. Laughing he said, "You're so predictable at times my dear. You'll leave those vibes right where they are, turned on low, through dinner while I decide what to do with you." He turned and went up the stairs to change and get ready for dinner. She stood just where she was, absorbing his words for a few moments before turning to go get dinner ready. As she stepped into the kitchen she heard him call down the stairs ... "Oh, and you're not to cum little girl."

She suffered until just after 9, struggling not to cum, squirming in her seat at dinner, feeling her own warmth trickle down her inner thighs as she washed the dishes. Biting her tongue to keep from begging him to take her while she sat on the floor at his feet reading while he dealt with email and other work tasks. Finally, when she thought she wouldn't be able to take it one more second, he told her to go up into the bedroom, strip down to just her panties, stockings and heels ... kneel on the floor at the end of the bed, turn the vibes up on high and wait for him while he took a shower. She was told she still was not allowed to cum.

He, of course, took his time in the shower. Grinning as he listened to her panting and whimpering in the next room. When he stepped back into the room, he watched her for a bit. He knew she was having trouble kneeling because she was wiggling and squirming so much. Her entire body was flushed pink with the strain of his denial. He wondered if she might actually begin to cry with frustration and need.

Her panties were dripping and she could feel the heat coating her legs. She wondered briefly if she had ever been this wet before. She felt frantic, wild, desperate ... and all she wanted was him. He stepped close to her, and she saw he was still naked from the shower, and her will broke enough that she began to beg. "Please Master, Your girl needs you. Please let me cum for you. Please take me. i'll do anything, just touch me and kiss me...." Her words were cut off by his own words ... "Turn off the vibes and take them out," he whispered to her.

Once she did, he took her hand and helped her up. He refused to touch more than her hand, knowing she was aching for it, but he held her steady. He had her lay back on the bed, instructing her to put her arms above her head and to spread her legs once she removed her panties. He then spent a good 10 minutes just gently trailing a few lengths of silky rope over her body while she struggled to stay still, moaning and sighing. Finally, he tied her hands to the headboard and her ankles to the bed posts at the other end of the bed, spreading her open before him, unable to move. He then leaned in close and asked "My girl, were you hoping to get a spanking?" In a barely audible whisper she admitted that she had been. "You need to learn that you won't always get what you want little girl."

He stepped away from the bed, out of her line of vision for a moment, leaving her wondering. When he stepped back she saw that he held a riding crop. Her already fuzzy mind went crazy. "He isn't going to spank me, but this looks promising," she thought and began squirming a bit on the bed. But he didn't hit her with it. Instead, he just ran it all over her body, tormenting her, running the leather over her swollen nipples, tickling her with the tip of the crop, until she thought she'd scream her need for more.

Reaching into the bedside table, he pulled out a small glass anal plug. Grinning, watching her eyes widen, he said "It seems you want to be filled, so I might as well help you with that. After all, that's My cunt and My ass you were playing with earlier. Don't cum pet." She bit her lip and pulled at the ropes as he slid the plug into her ass. She silently begged her body to not betray her.

He knelt across her chest, lifting her head up a little, telling her to suck his cock. She, of course, did so, more enthusiastically than he thought she'd ever done so before. He groaned at the pleasure of her warm, wet lips closing around his cock. He pressed closer, making her take all of him. Her soft, muffled moans of pleasure escaping from around his cock threatened to push him over the edge, so after a few minutes he pulled away from her. He smiled proudly as she whimpered at the loss of his cock. "What's the matter baby?" She wanted to beg, but couldn't find the words. He stood there and watched her struggle with what to say, and finally he whispered "Were you begging for my cock? Begging me to cum down your throat little slut?" "Yes Master," came her breathless reply.

He knelt between her legs and started running his fingers along her inner thighs, letting the backs of his fingers just brush against her aching pussy. Her body jolted in reaction as she tried to press closer to his hand. He leaned over her, waiting until her eyes focused on him, and said "You're still not cumming, girl." He pushed three fingers deep inside her, feeling her arch against him. Her mind exploded as she screamed out his name. He watched the sensation overtake her ... eyes fluttering closed, body writhing on the bed, broken whispers and moans.

He waited until she was just at the edge and then pulled his fingers out. Her eyes opened and as she began to whimper in protest, he buried his cock deep inside. Between the feel of the plug in her ass and her Master's cock taking her, she couldn't stifle the scream of ecstasy. He fucked her agonizingly slowly ... deep, long strokes ... Putting his hands on her hips, lifting her up a little, he held himself deep inside her. She could feel him throbbing. He began fucking her hard and fast as he growled at her. As her own body tensed, she felt his fingers dig into her hips and felt the hot flood of his cum insider her, causing her to cry out yet again.

As their bodies began to relax again and they tried to catch their breath, he rolled off of her, untied her with shaking hands, and pulled her in close to him. Laying together, curled up tight, he whispered "You're such a good girl."

2 days ago. Wed 15 Aug 2018 10:18:42 PM IDT

The submissive in me vs the independent

I kinda hate that title, because they are one person. I am one person.  At the same time, they have to be separated, because life.  Even in a 24/7 dynamic, there are times where they are separated, but always still together.  Did that even make any sense?  Yeah it did.  Those of you who get it, GET IT.   

-The independent in me will take care of everything that needs to be taken care of.  She’s strong and can hold her head high through the storms.  (Even if she does cry when no one else is around. There’s strength in those damn tears).  She’s not as afraid to tell the world “no” when too much of her time is being demanded.  She’ll step around (not on) people to get to where she needs to be, without as much as a “fuck you”.  She’s goal oriented and even when a kink is thrown in her plans, she’ll find a way.  This woman belongs to the world and those she chooses to let in it.  She’ll take the pain the world gives out and carry it on her shoulders, because she’s not stranger to it.  This woman will do her job with a smile, because she cares deeply about the people she works with.  She’ll give everything she has and more to those people because that’s just how her heart is.  This woman can be a loud mouthed bitch and isn’t afraid to raise her voice to get shit taken care of.  This woman does not conform to the ways of the world. She walks her own path and finds herself along the way.  This woman will look in a mirror to make sure she’s ready and pleasing for whatever her next task is.   She takes pride in herself at all times.  This girl feels safe within the boundaries that she’s created.  Sometimes this woman pouts and stomps, but she always pulls herself together for the game. 
She knows who she is all the time.

-The submissive in me will give everything to you.  She’s strong, too, and will also keep her head high even when her eyes are lowered.  She cries, too.  Out of fear, pain, pleasure, disappointment…  Those are some hella strong tears.  She doesn’t want to say no, even when her mind is screaming the word.  She’ll lower herself before you gladly.  She has no desire to step around or on you. Your plans are her plans.  This woman belongs to you as she chose you to submit herself fully to.  She’ll take the pain you give her and she’ll thank you for it and ask for more.  Theres no need for her to carry this pain.  This woman will do her job with a smile, because she cares deeply about her Dominant.  She’ll give everything she has and more to him because that’s just how her heart is.  Unfortunately for me, this woman can be a loud mouthed bitch too, but she desires to be put in her place and for you to rid her of that.  This woman will conform to you and your wishes, knowing that you have her best interest at heart.  She walks the path laid out for her and still find herself along the way.  This woman will look to YOU as her mirror, knowing that if she sees a pleased face, she’ll be pleased as well.  She takes pride in herself as your submissive at all times.  This girl feels safest within the boundaries that you made for her.  Sometimes this woman pouts and stomps, too, but she’s looking for you to help pull her together and set her right. 
She knows who she is all the time.

 

Both women have a lifelong journey ahead of them, and will accept what comes their way with as much dignity as can be mustered up.  They’re both insanely strong and they both have choices to make, and they both make plenty of mistakes.  And when the two mesh into one woman?  Look out. It’s fierce. 

3 days ago. Wed 15 Aug 2018 08:02:03 PM IDT

That collar... that finger looped through it... that look in her eyes.  I'm definitely on board with all that's going on here.  Mmmmm...

3 days ago. Wed 15 Aug 2018 05:00:06 AM IDT

Talking about so much of this with someone earlier, just not using the song as a reference...

Enjoying the moment for once.  Forgivieness.  Grieving one thing at a time.  The thanks that are given when appropriate, and truly being thankful for what was good and bad because both were lessons and allowed for self-reflection.  Self masochism, and why that happens.  Not equating death with stopping. 

And that first line? Getting off the antibiotics?? I'm on ROUND 2 now. I seriously need to get well.

Fuck it up, y'all!  (I never said they'd be eloquent words). 

 

 

How 'bout getting off these antibiotics
How 'bout stopping eating when I'm full up
How 'bout them transparent dangling carrots
How 'bout that ever elusive kudo
Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
How 'bout me not blaming you for everything
How 'bout me enjoying the moment for once
How 'bout how good it feels to finally forgive you
How 'bout grieving it all one at a time
Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
The moment I let go of it was the moment
I got more than I could handle
The moment I jumped off of it
Was the moment I touched down
How 'bout no longer being masochistic
How 'bout remembering your divinity
How 'bout unabashedly bawling your eyes out
How 'bout not equating death with stopping
Thank you India
Thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness
Thank you clarity
Thank you thank you silence

5 days ago. Mon 13 Aug 2018 05:07:49 PM IDT

Bad things happen. Break ups, death, illness... and sometimes it comes in waves. This is life... and if the bad didn't happen, we would never appreciate the good when it comes along.  So what do you do?  You do whatever the hell you want!   I am so tired of some people pretending there is a formula for healing, because there isn't.

Healing. Is. NOT. Linear.

So what if I kick and scream for a while?  I may choose to curl up and cry and ignore everthing.  Hell, I may choose to wear my pain like I wear my stilletos, all graceful and shit, who knows. 

Here's one thing that I do know... "If she comes up, it's baptism" ... and this girl will come back up.  That you can count on. 

 

Damn independent submissives... (an oxymoron for a laugh.  I'm still me). 

5 days ago. Mon 13 Aug 2018 04:02:41 AM IDT

"In your life you touched so many.  In your death many lives were changed."

 My grandfather always told me that "life was for the living", but the living are hurting right now. 

Some of you may remember me speaking about my "dark art buddy" ( https://thecage.co/blog/userblog.php?blog_id=21895&postid=5080 )and now he's gone.  I wanted to find such great words to say, because he deserves great words, but I cannot.  So I'll share a tidbit of a photo, so no rules are violated and privacy and respect is given.  You'll be missed, my dude.  :'(

1 week ago. Sat 11 Aug 2018 03:32:13 AM IDT

He'd told her to call around 8. She'd been eyeing the clock for almost an hour, watching the minutes tick by, minutes that felt like an eternity. She'd talked to him only a few hours before and yet she craved hearing it again.

She didn't know what turn the call tonight would take. She thought it might be a chance for them to share some intimate time together. She'd of course be thrilled just to talk, of nonsensical things, of important things, anything ... time with him was so very precious. What they did, what they talked about truly didn't matter. But she felt she should prepare a bit anyway, so she would be ready for him if he wanted her.

So prepare she did. She undressed, slipping on just her short black robe, thinking of the time she'd spent with Him in person in that very robe. Her fingers brushed the gold chain at her neck. The chain he'd given her during their first time together. The chain she wore during all of their most intimate moments. The chain that held such deep meaning for her. The chain she'd been wearing for almost a week now, having needed to feel him close to her during what have been a troublesome week.

She grabbed the wooden paddle-type hairbrush from it's place on her antique dressing table before she left her dressing area. The next stop was the bedroom. She reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled out a vibrator and a dildo, toys he most often asked for her to use. She paused for a moment, wondering if she should take anything else. She could always come back up if he wanted. Down the stairs she went.

She laid a soft blanket out across the wood floor, again preparing in case he wanted her tonight. She knelt for just a few minutes, gathering her thoughts, remember moments they had shared. He hadn't asked her to prepare. She had no idea if she needed to, but she loved these moments by herself when she filled her mind and heart with only him. Standing, she moved to the couch and curled up. She dialed the phone with slightly trembling fingers....

His voice filled her immediately. They spoke of various things ... what they'd been doing since they last spoke, how long each of them had to talk, and others ... and then he asked the question that made her heart skip a beat. "What are you wearing?"

"Just my robe," she said a bit shyly. She knew that he begin to realize she has prepared, hoped even, that he might use her tonight.

And then ... "Did you bring any toys down with you?"

She could feel her cheeks blush bright pink as she told Him she had. "i like to be prepared," she joked.

Then she heard the change in his voice as he said her name. As always, she suddenly couldn't breath. She was immediately immersed. Filled with him and only him. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.

"What did you bring down?"

She giggled nervously, "The brush of course, and a vibrator and dildo."

"Describe the dildo for me," He prompted. He could practically hear her squirming.

"i ... i can't ... it's ummm about 8 inches." She thought she couldn't blush much more. She was wrong.

"8 inches? In what way?" He asked.

She could hear the grin in his voice, could picture it. "8 inches long. What else..."

He cut her off, "What is it shaped like?"

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, laughing a bit. She wasn't sure she could answer.

"A cock," she squeaked.

He mimicked her squeaky voice. He teased her for a few more minutes. "Does it have ridges... does it have a head ... what does your Master like you to do with this dildo?"

Her embarrassment and nervousness got the best of her and she could barely answer and His voice changed. "Get the brush. On your knees."

She groaned, "Yes Sir." She knew what was coming. First the inside of her right thigh. She lost count of the strikes. Then her left nipple. Then the inside of her left thigh. With each strike her need grew.

"What can your Master do with that dildo?" He asked her with a bit more force. Her mind swirled. Nerves. Embarrassment. Pain. Pleasure. Need. "Listen. Feel. Act." He told her. "Don't think."

"You can fuck me Master," she said softly.

"And what do I fuck with that toy?" He asked her.

She squirmed on the floor and said "my pussy."

"And what game does your Master like to play?"

"Slow and deep," she whispered breathlessly. She could feel the warm wetness between her legs, the sting of the brush still racing through her body.

"On your back. Grab the dildo. Feet flat on the floor. Put the dildo at the entrance to My pussy," He commanded her.

She quickly complied, "Yes Sir." She waited. Anticipating. Barely breathing.

He began the game. "Deep... slow..." She moaned deeply with every stroke. "Whose cock is that fucking you?" He asked her.

"Yours Master," she sighed. And it was. She could feel him so clearly. His body covering hers as he took her, as he claimed her body, mind and soul.

"Faster!"

He continued until she was writhing on the floor, whimpering, moaning and when she thought she couldn't possibly take anymore ... "Cum," he told her.

She cried out, his name almost a whisper as her back arched as her body tightened and released. As she started to come back down, he began the game again until he commanded her to release again. She thought her body must be on fire. She could feel him with her, feel his eyes watching her as his name tore from her lips again. She was lost, beyond thought. Completely his.

She tried to catch her breath as He told her to get the vibrator. "On low. Run it over and around My cunt little girl." She of course did exactly as He commanded. "And now, your Master has something to do. You keep at that until I come back."

She groaned before she could bite her lip to stifle it. "Yes Sir," she whimpered.

She had no idea how long he was gone for. It felt like forever. She moaned and gasped. Was he listening? She had no idea, but she couldn't have stayed quiet if she'd wanted. She was squirming. She thought she'd scream from her need. She'd beg if that's what he wanted.

And every time she thought she couldn't hold back any longer, she thought of the words he'd said to her so many times. "Those orgasms are mine to give, not yours to take." She could hear him even though he was silent. She could feel him even though he was far away.

She actually jolted when she heard him return. "Who owns you?"

"You do Master," she whimpered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very," she gasped.

"100 percent? Even after a rough week like this has been?" he questioned her.

"Yes Master. 100 percent."

"Would you do anything I asked of you right now?"

"Anything."

"Anything?" He repeated.

"Yes Sir," she said breathlessly, squirming more. She knew she would in fact do anything He asked. Pleasing Him was all that mattered. Making Him proud of her was her deepest desire.

"Would you go to the window if I asked?"

"Yes Sir."

"Promise?"

"i promise," she whispered. The window ... she disliked the window, being on display. But she would truly give him anything he asked for.

"Cum!" he growled in her ear. She screamed as her mind and body shattered yet again. His name her only thought as she released for him for the last time that night...

1 week ago. Fri 10 Aug 2018 06:11:44 PM IDT

I love erotic BDSM pictures, but I also love the titles that I find with them sometimes.  This one was called "bad sumbissive", but I'm just not seeing it... I'm seeing an outfit and some heels that I want, and I postition that I want to be in. Like, right now!
(I'm also seeing some really pretty furniture that I wouldn't mind owning, but let's keep the focus here...)

1 week ago. Fri 10 Aug 2018 08:17:54 AM IDT

1 week ago. Sun 05 Aug 2018 03:01:26 AM IDT

This is NOT my work, but I did like it and consider it important enough to be shared.

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|IN SUBMISSIVE, BDSM TECHNIQUES, BDSM EXPRESSIONS
|BY STOLTZ SINATRA -DESADE MAGAZINE 
I got a question on Twitter a couple of days ago. Cassandra, a 20 year old submissive, asked me about what she considered to be a horrible mistake on her part. She has written a detailed post in our forum about the situation surrounding the mistake itself so I will not go into the specifics of it.

She touched a couple of things that I’ve experienced before – The guilt of the submissive.

As training and the BDSM relationship between the Dominant and the submissive evolves, so does the submissive guilt when the Dominant points out potential mistakes.

It’s a natural development as far as I see it, because the submissive wants to please and simply put; the Dominant wants to be pleased. When mistakes are made then a natural feeling of guilt occurs as the submissive didn’t succeed in pleasing the Dominant. Before I go any further in my reasoning I will ask every submissive that reads this to think a little bit more about it.

Isn’t it true that you, as a submissive, might feel guilt, to a larger extent than others, in an ordinary everyday situation if you’ve make a mistake?

I’m fairly sure that most submissives will answer “Yes”.

My experience is that this is a quite common feeling among submissives, i.e something that most submissives might feel in any kind of situation that involves mistakes. So let us go back to my original reasoning.

The reason for this is the need for control….yes, you read it correctly.

Some of you might think “Get out of here” or “Yeah right” when you read the statement I just made above, some of you might even think that submissives do not want control and you are totally correct.

Submissives do not want control and simply put; this is a natural drive for getting into BDSM as a submissive – But if you back up a bit and take a look at why submissives don’t want control, then the reason is that they usually have a very controlling behaviour and the Dominant helps them to take a “mental vacation” from this specific behaviour.

I believe this to be one of the core reasons for why some people become submissives.

So let us connect the feeling of guilt and the reason for punishment. When a mistake is made, then it exposes a lack of self control, sloppiness or any other reason that the submissive can come up with to bash herself with – And this psychological self-flagellation can go on work weeks if the mistake is serious enough in the eyes of the submissive. This is, in my opinion, not a very healthy situation and the solution might be a punishment.

The punishment has a central role in breaking the psychological vortex submissives end up in when pondering mistakes and feeling guilt. The Dominant is externalising the submissive’s guilt by handing out a punishment and becomes the absolution that is necessary to end the psychological merry-go-around that is tormenting the submissive.

The punishment becomes the catharsis that enables the submissive the leave the mistake behind her and reconfirms the relationship that she has with the Dominant.

These are natural psychological properties that you will encounter as a part of BDSM dynamics and they might also be the reason why you turned into a submissive in the first place.

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I'm not going to sit here and pick apart the place where he mentions why submissives are submissive, that's for you to decide.  The point of my sharing this article was for a little enlightenment perhaps.  

Submissive guilt is real, I'm sure many of us know that, and you're not alone.  It can be hard to say in the same sentence that you both don't want AND do want punishment, because it can be confusing, but hopefully this brought a tad bit of understanding as to a part of why we do this thing we do.

So much of the interwebs have us conviced that punishments are fun and sexy (and occasionally they can be).  When we break a "smaller" rule or don't follow through on a "smaller" task, punishments come and they are usually mild in nature.  I know that I'm not wording that right, but most of you know what it's like to look forward to a certain punishment. Hell, most of us *ask* for them with our words or actions!  However, there are those times that we majorly screw up and the guilt/disappointment/punishment that comes with that is no fun at all, NOR SHOULD IT BE!  These are our training tools, and for that, i am grateful.

Y'all take care :)