My Blog - original erotica

Holding you down and forcing your legs open, watching your cunt stretch as my cock slowly fills and stretches your tight little kitty.

The look of panic that enters your eyes as you struggle against me and try to break free.

The high pitched squeal that escapes you as I roughly manhandle you and flip you over, placing your on your hands and knees into doggy style, prepare to drive my cock deep inside you.

The sound as you sharply inhale when I grab your hips and place my cock against your moist, warm cunt lips.

The low moan that escapes your lips as my cock drives deep into your very wet needy cunt.

The sharp intake of breath as I rip your head back and around, so that I can watch your face as I impale you from behind.

The look of lust that enters your eyes as you feel your body respond to each hard, brutal thrust as I begin to own you.

The feeling of your body driving back against me, desperately matching my thrusts as our hips clash together.

The sound of fear as you whisper the words

"I'm not on birth control Sir"

The look of dismay that comes over your face as I reply with

"That's ok little whore. I'm going to fill your cunt with my fucking seed. Seed that's going to impregnate your fertile womb. Daddy is going to fucking breed you....."

The look of shock on your face as reality begins to replace fantasy.

The whimper that escapes your lips as you hear me begin to growl as my cock swells, preparing to unload my seed deep inside you.

The sound of your groans as they develop into lustful screams as I drive my cock into you, harder and harder, slamming against your cervix again and again.

The sound of my roar as I unload my thick, sticky load into your needy, wanting and desperate cunt.

The look of submission in your eyes as you give yourself to me completely and mentally prepare yourself for your new fucking lifestyle.

The lifestyle of a little fucking breeding whore...

Look into her eyes as your cock first slides into her.

Watch for that expression as she succumbs to her internal lust, your cock and to you.

Start slowly.

Just the tip.

Make her work for the pleasure of your cock.

Feel her move her hips as she tries to take you and impale herself on your cock.

Tease her.

Not just momentarily, but with self control and conviction.

Continue teasing her.

Until she reaches the point of becoming cock drunk.

Now is the time.

Drive yourself into her.

Thrust your hips in, forcing yourself balls deep.

Listen to her squeal as pleasure meets pain.

Grip her hips and pull her in hard to meet with the violence of your thrust.

Her squeal becoming a lust filled guttural scream.

Smile at her knowingly.

Smile at her with the unspoken words of you are mine…

Can you tell the difference when her eyes flicker with passion or pain?

Do you understand her enough to recognise those moments just before she triggers, allowing you to prepare to catch her when she falls?

Does she trust you enough to confide in you and share her deepest fears, her sorrow, her crippling sadness?

The bond between two people is not procured from flesh on flesh alone. To form a bond that not only connects, but also weathers the storms of time, requires the ability to connect at a deeper level. 

A level of unspoken comfort and connection where comfort overrides embarrassment or hesitation to be yourself in the presence of another.

To shed pretence and allow your vulnerable side to surface. To laugh belly deep or cry with such intensity that it feels like your soul has purged, as you build that emotional connection. 

Connection is what creates the ability to recognise those small things that drive massive impact. 

The nuances that balance the ability to understand triggers and assist with placement of coping strategies. 

An unspoken bond that survives personnel change, growth and evolution of self. 

A bond formed so deeply that it leads to unconditional and everlasting acceptance of another.

It’s the seduction of the unknown that pulls her in. The darkness. The taboo. The nasty. The hint of brutality.

She faces her own personal conundrum. A respected lady in her vanilla world. Well presented. Reserved. Treated with respect. People tiptoeing around her. Structured control of her everyday world and existence.

Deep within she screams for someone to treat her like a whore. Like their personal little fucking slut. Throat grabbed. Forced to the ground. Forced to worship his cock.

Slammed into a wall, clothes torn from her body. Piece by piece.

Overpowered. Controlled. Unable to move, being pinned to that wall by immense strength of one that will use her.

Someone that overpowers her physically, mentally and psychologically. Not just subjugated through structured Dominance. She wants brutal, reactive, animalistic Primal hunger to control her.

The ability of him to make her body come to life. Her cunt insatiably wet, not just from physical touch. Wet from mental subjugation. To feel him within. Before he touches her. To feel him penetrate her mentally. Make her want to do things that she never imagined doing before.

To be used by him. Taken. No control. Outcomes that take her beyond her own level of experience. Outcomes that dictate a new world and new way for her. Ones that bring her body to life, her cunt to life. Outcomes that consume her in ways she never imagined possible.

To be held down, his fingers penetrating her cunt and ass at the same time. Fucking her with his fingers. His other hand around her throat. Cutting off blood supply to her brain. Forcing her in and out of consciousness.

Every time he draws another orgasm from her, he allows her to feel again, her body and mind screaming as it comes back to a state of cognitive awareness. Drawing orgasm after orgasm from her screaming body. Forcing her to squirt uncontrollably. The floor being covered with her wetness, her desire, her passion.

Pushing the boundaries of her limits. What she once thought was taboo, she now begs him to deliver. He changes her world. His darkness seduces and alters her mind, her being, her way of thinking.

He takes her, breaks her, manipulates her and uses her as his pleasure pet. His fucktoy. His personal little fucking whore.

Pushing her to the edge of exhaustion, fucking her so hard that she forgets her own name and is only able to just manage to moan his...

Painful urges, salacious cravings, the uncontrollable itch that comes from the need to feel our bodies entwine as we begin to discover each other with nothing but exposed and reckless abandon.

Hip thrusting, pelvic grinding, passionate waves flowing as we embrace, touch and the game changes from psychological seduction to the beauty of skin on skin in the game of lustful depravity.

An embrace that interlaces passion leaving us in a heated state of sweaty, breathless entanglement as the world around us dissipates into nothing but background white noise.

Poking, scratching, punching, biting, slapping, fucking. Assault of the senses and satiation of lustful and lascivious needs…

Souls connect as passion roars and a tempest of depraved and debauched delights begins to flow.

The cravings that encroach as you take her, placing and positioning her, sliding yourself inside of her and claiming her as yours.

Your body against hers, your scent staining her flesh for but a moment, before she absorbs your entirety, fitting within her as she takes you, her cunt inhaling your manhood, gripping you like a glove...

I pin you down. Face firmly planted onto the ground. My cock hardening as you begin struggle.

I can smell your fear. But I also smell your wetness as your cunt comes alive. You had begged me so many times to take you. To fuck your ass without lube. To force myself inside you.

Tearing the wet panties from your body. Listening to you squeal as the fabric tears roughly and rips welts into your skin.

You hear me unzip and I watch the reaction as your chest begins to rise and fall from a mixture of fear, but also anticipation.

I feel your body squirm, as I move myself into position.

Reaching a hand down and inserting multiple fingers into your wet cunt.

Roughly wiping your asshole with your own wetness, I force your hips up and place my cock against the opening of your ass.

You struggle. I love it when you fucking struggle.

I smile as I lean forward and growl the words

”This is going to fucking hurt my little whore...”

She dreams of being overpowered. Taken. Owned. Conquered.

A hand around the throat, squeezing hard enough to invoke fear, but firm enough to allow surrender.

Slaps that deliver impact driven pain.

Pain that will also illicit pleasure.

Forceful penetration.

To have a cock driven deep inside of her, whilst being made to stare into the others eyes.

Thrusts that force themselves into her.

Stretching, filling, driving, owning.

Force that creates a mixture of moans blended with groans.

The sounds of pure and unadulterated raw lust.

She dreams of being overwhelmed in her arousal.

An arousal that is born from brutal invasion of body and mind.

So brutally forceful that flight or fight kicks in.

The mind pushes for the need to stop, overridden by the bodies desire to continue...

To control a woman’s subconscious through breathplay and to create real fear within her, whilst using her throat for your own pleasure.

Control gained by negotiated consent to use her how you see fit.

To fucking use her forcefully, hurting but not harming.

To create a psychological barrier of fear, so real at the time, that it consumes her.

Teaching her about what being really used actually means.

The consequences of reality overtaking her simple fantasy as you deliver her with your brutality.

Feeling her struggle as your cock fills her throat.

She knows you won’t relent as you use her selfishly for your own pleasure.

Her breathing is of insignificance, your entire focus is on selfish pleasure as you feel the head and shaft of your cock, slide in and out, enjoying the texture of the inside of her throat.

Enjoying the grip of her throat on your cock as the involuntary spasms begin to take hold of her.

To listen to her violently gag from being so full, the tears, drool and mess dribbling from her mouth, nose and eyes, down her chin and over her bare chest.

To feel her struggle as her oxygen begins to deplete. The urgency and need to breathe beginning to make her panic.

Her arms rise up to fight against you, trying to push against your body to leverage ability to breathe.

Pinning and holding her arms above her head, disabling her ability to push back against you and pinning her head between your groin and the wall as you force your way deeper into her throat, stretching her, filling her, fucking her.

She is at the point of no return, a wild look of desperation in her eye as her need to breathe consumes her.

You smile as you look down at her, knowing you control her everything, her all, the very outcome that could potentially mean life or death.

You growl the words ”Today you’re nothing more than my personal fucking fleshlight…”

Her eyes widen even more as her foggy brain untangles the words and recognition of reality hits her.

You force your cock in deeper, the need to cum building into a crescendo of brutal, deep thrusts.

You erupt forcefully as you unload thick streams into her throat, fucking her face and throat relentlessly, as she literally teeters on a fight for her life.

Psychological and physical control.

Fear.

Breath play by cock.

So much fucking fun…

She’s not willing to submit to just anyone that simply calls themselves Dominant. For some people, to be Dominant is like going to an exhibition or convention. Walk into the room, throw on a name badge, insert the Dominant title, assume the role.

To those described above, Dominance is just role play and nothing more. Not because they don’t want it to be more. Simply because they don’t understand it, nor feel it, therefore it cannot naturally occur within them and as a result, the nuances that occur with the exchange of power cannot transfer across to another. For some it’s just a mask they put on for a temporary period, during sessions or sexual play.

If they can’t feel it as the Capital in the slash, I guarantee you that the submissive cannot feel it.

As a submissive, she wants so much more than to just submit. She wants to feel owned. To feel secure. To feel overwhelmed with emotional attachment that drives her need to submit. To serve. To pleasure. To service her Dominant.

She wants to feel the richness found in a dynamic. A richness that is rare, exquisite and beautiful in formation. She thrives on the structure that naturally flows through that dynamics power exchange.

Some would be Dominants will try to force their submissive to be a filthy little whore. With a natural energy flow found within the beauty of a D/s dynamic, she should feel the need to want to be your whore, not be forced to be one. Her submission is about giving you her entirety.

It should never be about resisted force of mental or physical. Resistance occurs when comfort zones no longer exist and limits are breached. Force in kink is about the ebb and flow of power, as he takes what she willingly wants to give.

To make her feel like a rag doll, yet still secure enough to feel significant, protected, respected and cared for. Force in kink is about being in tune with the other party and pushing boundaries to elicit a mixture of fear and lust.

To bring her to life inside, knowing what’s coming, but not knowing how it will be delivered. To make her want to feel you physically and mentally Dominate and control her. To take her power, without her even realising it.

To whisper an order and she succumbs to the need to fulfil that task in effort to please you, no matter the level of comfort or discomfort she feels while completing that task. All that matters to her is completing it and fulfilling your desires. To service you as she serves you.

She needs to feel owned, in order to give you her all and her everything…

The way he drove his cock in hard and fast, her greedy little cunt gripping him and milking his seed deep inside of her as she feels her own orgasm begin to rip through her…