Saturday, February 17, 2007


"I want you to take the panties you wear tomorrow and put them in an envelope and mail them to me. I wanna see the envelope, I get hard just thinking about it, opening it up and feeling those panties of yours, smelling them and stroking myself while holding them."

Sunday I wear my best panties. My favorites. Black silk that are almost boy shorts, but ride up my ass, cut up the side of my hips. I start the day at the gym - exercise, sauna, shower. I'm freshly waxed and feeling clean. I pull the panties on and find I'm immediately excited. Thinking of him holding them, feeling them, rubbing them against himself. I'm in the ladies locker room and put a hold on these thoughts while I continue to dress. My day includes my regular Sunday brunch with Kathy, some shopping and drinks later with Sandy and Paul.

On the subway my mind wanders to his words. How the envelope, just by knowing what's in it, holding it in his hands before it's even open, will excite him. The anticipation of what's to come is much of the pleasure. My eyes are closed as the subway rocks through the tunnel and I wonder if I'm flushed.

Lunch with Kathy is fun, distracting. We talk of her new relationship and upcoming trip to California. All the while, in the back of my mind, are the panties. I excuse myself to the Ladies and as I sit and pee, I look at the cotton crotch against the black silk and I see it's a bit stained with white and damp. I smile knowing how pleased he'll be.

Kathy and I go our separate ways and I'm off to the lingerie store. If I'm to send him these, my favorite pair, I have to buy some more (especially since I wonder if this will be a frequent request - I'll need backup). I wander through the store, touching the undergarments, silk and lace, holding them up, imagining them on me, him pulling them off, down around my thighs and ankles. Pushing them to his face, surrounding his hard cock with them, rubbing the damp spot up and down his shaft. I take a deep breath and carry on with my shopping, a definite smile on my face. I pick out a few pair, similar to what I'm about to give away, make my purchase and leave the store.

I have some time before meeting Sandy and Paul for drinks, so I stop at a cafe and get a coffee and read a magazine. But my mind can't focus on the article. All my attention is focused on my cunt. The tingling, the tightening and involuntary pulse and throb. Before I leave the cafe I stop in the ladies room. I spread my legs over the open toilet and with my right hand begin to rub my clit in concentric circles. My left hand pulls the panties to the side, but only slightly. Enough for access, but pushing the crotch of the panties slightly into my cunt. I rub them up and down my wet, swollen slit. I want to cover them in my juice for him.

I don't let myself come. I pull myself up short from that satisfaction so that I can stay wet throughout the rest of the day.

Drinks with Paul and Sandy and then off home. Again, my mind wanders on the subway and I find I'm impatient now. Over heated, crossing my legs and clenching my thighs, I'm longing to come.

I walk in the door to my apartment and call him. After we chat about our day, he asks me about my panties. Which ones did I choose to wear today? Did I think about him at all? I did! What was I thinking? About his cock, I say. About him rubbing his cock with my panties. I tell him how I've been hot all day, wet and dripping a bit. I tell him how I pushed the crotch of his panties into my slit. I tell him I want to come on them for him.

He directs me to the bedroom, to remove my pants and to sit on the bed, legs to the side of my thighs, thighs spread. "Rub your clit through the panties. With your other hand spread your lips apart and as you rub, push the material as far into your cunt as you can. Make them wet." I do as he says with urgency, I'm that close to my release.

He knows this, can hear it in my breath and the involuntary moans and begins to describe for me his plans for my black silk.

"Once I have the envelope in my hand I hold it up to my face and smell. I want to know if I can smell your scent through the package. Slowly, I open the flap and turn it upside down and let the silk slide into my hands like sand. Both hands feel them, imagining them as still warm from your body. And then I pull them up to my nose and breath deeply in and there it is. The smell of your excitement, your arousal, your juices. My cock is so hard now, I pull it out of my pants and wrap my shaft with the soft folds of your intimates. Finding the crotch, seeing how covered it is with your now dried come, I place that over the head of my cock and push. I push my cock into your panties."

Before he can describe the completion of his fantasy, I'm wildly rubbing my clit through the silk, practically fucking myself with material, bouncing my ass up and down and moaning. The image of him stroking with my panties is too much and I explode, and explode and explode. On my knees now, gravity does it's work and I pour onto the crotch of what I know will be his object.

When I'm done, and I'm calm, lying down and the shaking has subsided I hear him on the phone saying reassuring, sweet things. Helping me to come down, as if I'm wrapped up in him. He tells me to make sure to send them first thing in the morning and we hang up.

I get up and take off my panties. At my desk I pull out a manila envelope and, with hands still slightly shaking, I address it and then slip the contents in and seal the flap.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Too late now

You left too soon. Before you could do the things to me I had hiding in my head. Saving up to tell you, to whisper into your ear in the night as you slept. Subliminally suggesting the torture I wanted you to submit me to, the pleasure I wanted you to have watching me suffer, watching me moan with the joy of giving myself to you.

You left before you tied me to the chair, naked, alone. My hands behind me, my legs splayed to either side, open and exposed. Or see my cunt, swollen and dripping from your eyes taking me in, lapping at me like a tongue, teasing me with a little smile. You didn't take your cock in your hand, semi-erect, and stroke it. You didn't see my eyes greedy to see you grow, to hear your breathing change and become rapid and ragged with your need. You didn't move close to me with your erection, or tell me to open and push your way into my mouth, taking me in a way that's both a violation and your right, because I give it you.

You never held my head, my hair, in your clenched fist and watched as tears formed in my eyes from gasping from the air being denied me in place of your need. Or see me looking up at you, into your eyes, pleading you to stop, and making sure your pleasure was complete. You didn't see me count each thrust in the hope that the next was the last, that the next would bring you closer to your goal.

Your goal of seeing your come fill my mouth, slide down my throat, make me choke and gag and drip out of my mouth, onto my chin and my chest. You didn't get to pull yourself out in your final throes and watch as you emptied yourself onto my breasts, my belly, my twat, spread out before you - wet and wanting from my own degradation and your profane desire.

Monday, February 12, 2007

Someone elses fantasy

He's 22 years younger than me. Way past my cutoff, but rules are meant to break. It's my rule, so no-one feels bad about breaking this except me. And, maybe this is exciting because I'm breaking the rule.

I'm his fantasy. A "mature" woman. Such a nice euphemism from a 20-something. Maybe he's mine, too.

I walk into his apartment and he tells me to take my clothes off. He says this in such an authoritative way that I'm impressed. So, of course, I do. He watches every article as it falls to the floor. Giving me some direction as to which piece comes off next. Then I'm naked. A little cold, so of course my nipples are hard. A little excited, so of course my pussy is wet.

He points to the bedroom and tells me to go in there and get on the bed on my knees, ass high. I do this, but he hasn't followed me. I'm not sure where he is. It seems like an eternity I'm in this position before he comes in. He's still dressed.

He comes up behind me and makes me spread my legs more and then he starts. Parting my lips and attacking my clit with his tongue. Flicking and sucking it. Pulling it with this teeth. I'm going out of my mind with pleasure when he pushes 2 fingers into my dripping cunt and finger fucks me hard, not letting up on my clit. I'm screaming.

He moves his tongue away from my clit and pulls his fingers out of me and pushes his tongue deeply inside me. In and out repeatedly. Then he moves his tongue up to my ass and pushes it in and out. Then back to my cunt, then back to my clit. Over and over until I'm so close I'm sure I'm going to explode. He senses this and continues to suck on my clit in a way that is so all encompassing, so perfect I come with a scream and know that I am dripping my juices all over his face and hands.

He pulls away and tells me to lie down. He moves up on the bed and wraps my still shaking body in his arms and kisses my forehead and my eyes and then my lips. We look into each others eyes and both smile.

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Radio Silence

It seems I'm finally adjusting to his being gone. It's still so silent. The phone doesn't ring as much, no texts. It's weird. I cried a lot, but not so much today.

Am starting, though, to think of how I would punish him if given the chance.

No talking. Go immediately to the bedroom upon walking in the door. Take off all your clothes and kneel at the end of the bed. No pillow under your knees, just bare on the rug. Now wait.

I'm having a glass of wine. I'm trying to calm down after all these days of silence and having to endure abandonment and betrayal. I'm smoking a cigarette and drinking my wine, gazing out the window at the city while you remain kneeling, quietly, patiently at the end of the bed.

After some time, 20 minutes or so, I get up and go to see what you're up to. I'm impressed with your obedience, but there will be no rewards today. No rewards for many days.

I get out the restraints and attach you to the bars at the end of the bed. I pull the straps as tightly as I can and I know it's a little uncomfortable. I get a rush as I see you wince. The degree to which I want to hurt you tonight is astonishing. You're going to suffer like you've never even imagined.

During our time apart, I bought a whip and took a class and have been practicing. It's a cat 'o nine. It's black and it's sharp. But, I don't want to start there. I start with the small flogger. A few light strokes, then a few more, then a little harder until you're grunting with a little bit of pain and I see that your cock is getting hard. You're semi-erect and while this excites me the only thing I want to do is smack it. Later...

I rest a bit, and drink a little wine and then pull out my new toy. I show it to you, "See what I bought while you were away?", I say sarcastically. "A new toy. And I didn't even know you were going to be able to help me break it in. How lucky!" With that I come behind you, and I see you brace yourself and you should. With a a little crack I give your back just the end, a little sting, not the full effect. But, you are affected. You cry out a bit and now your cock is hard. I give you another and another, each time a little harder. I stop and watch as your back turns red and the welts come out.

Now for your ass. Again, I start with just the tip, a little sting. A tingle. Until I can't hold back anymore and I am beating you like you never imagined possible. All the while telling you what a fucking son of a bitch asshole you are for even daring to leave me, for lying to me over and over, each stroke is for another lie and there were so many. Your cock betrays you, even though I know you're in tremendous pain.

Once I think I've covered every lie, and just before I think I will draw blood, I stop. I sit on the end of the bed in front of you and just watch as you try to catch your breath, tears streaming down your face, and as the real pain starts to sink in. You look up at me with scared, sorrowful eyes and for a moment I know why you deserve this. You wouldn't if I didn't feel this way about you. But, it's just a moment and then I remember and I'm up.

I undo the restraints and tell you to lie on your back on the bed. I know this will be painful and watch as you gingerly lay back. You're still semi-erect, but I want you hard. I kneel over you, just above your cock, my pussy dripping from the power and the anger, and begin to touch my clit, rubbing back and forth. I push one, then two fingers deep into my cunt. I watch your face as you watch me and see that even with your pain, you can't help but be aroused. And, again, your cock gives you away. You're now hard as a rock.

I move off of you, and kneel beside you, looking at your hard on, sticking up in the air. Listening to your breath, fast and excited. I raise my hand and as hard as I can I slap your cock. The look of surprise and fear that cross your face make me smile, and I slap it again, and again, and again. You are still very hard. You know you deserve this.

When I'm bored with this I straddle your face, I push my pussy down onto your mouth, forcing you to fuck me with your tongue, commanding you to suck on my clit and flick your tongue over it. I rock back and forth, over and over, until I explode, dripping into your mouth, gagging you with my juices.

I climb off of you. I stand at the end of the bed for a moment looking at you, hard, covered in my come, in pain, pathetic. I take my wine and leave the room.

Chains and tits

Friday, February 2, 2007

The punishment I deserve

I woke up at 1:00 a.m. and couldn't fall back asleep. I was ridden with guilt and anxiety over what had happened with him today. I made a stupid, stupid mistake. One only I could make with my ridiculous, impulsive behavior. I was afraid to lose him. I could only hope he would/could forgive me. Maybe a punishment could be considered a suitable atonement.

He is so angry that as he ties my hands together and attaches them to the headboard, he pulls the rope very tight, almost cutting into my skin. I cry out, only a bit. He looks at me and doesn't loosen them (but, he doesn't tighten them anymore, either). His look alone expresses his anger and I shrivel at his wrath (and worry about what's to come). I am on my belly with my hands now tied above me. He pulls my legs apart, opening me up, giving me no place to hide. He begins to wrap 1 rope around close to the top of my left thigh, over and over, many times, then pulls the end of the rope and ties it to the side of the bed. He does the same to the right thigh. I am helpless. My hands are tied, my legs spread apart, vulnerable, exposed. He doesn't gag me and I wonder why, but will soon find out.

He just stands by the side of the bed for a while looking at me. Looking at his work. Not making any adjustments, just taking it in. I turn my head to watch him looking at me and we make eye contact. Again, his eyes are on fire with anger. He moves closer to the bed and before I realize what's coming, his hand lands hard and strong on my left cheek, then on my right. Again, I cry out, but he seems not to notice. And then it begins. Over and over, in quick succession, one blow after another on each cheek. ...4, 5, 6... and then he stops. Again, viewing his work. The welts and redness that no doubt now cover my ass.

"Does it hurt?", he asks, somewhat sardonically. "Yes", I say. "Not enough, I'm sure", he answers. "The punishment you deserve is only just beginning, you understand. Each smack represents each moment I've had to endure since that incident this afternoon. When I'm done you will wish you had never called me. And you will never say anything like that again."

With that, he walks to the closet, and pulls out the switch. The long, flexible, stick he saves for "special" occasions. When we use it it's usually gently, but I know today I will not be that lucky. And I'm not. Again, without warning except the noise of the stick singing through the air, it lands squarely across both cheeks and this time I cry out loudly, and tears spring to my eyes. ...1,2,3...Tears are flowing down my cheeks, but I try not to make a sound, knowing I deserve every swat.

He puts down the switch and comes to the end of the bed and moves up to between my legs. Looking at my ass, looking at my pussy, which I know, despite myself, is wet. Dripping and swollen. He sees this and, despite how angry he is, I can tell he is pleased. He spreads me apart and gently puts his thumb on my clit and rubs. I moan with the pleasure of it, mixing with the burning of my ass. Quickly, he pushes his thumb into my cunt and fucks me hard and fast. And then stops. I moan from the loss of being filled.

And it begins again. Another round with his hand, another round with the switch, and again, he finger fucks me, this time harder, more forceful. I know he is still so angry. "Beg me. Beg me to beat you. Beg me to fuck you until you can't walk." And I do. "Please, hurt me, make me bleed and sting, I so deserve to be bruised and scarred."

Then he takes off his pants. I see that his cock is hard, huge, he's so turned-on from this punishment. He crawls between my legs and with no preamble plunges his cock deep into me and proceeds to fuck me hard, very, very hard. "Does it hurt?", he wants to know. "Yes." "Good." And he pushes even harder. "I punished you with my hand, with the switch and now I'm going to punish you with my cock."

He pounds away at me, all the while telling me what a bad girl I am, what a foolish, impulsive woman I am. How he wonders if it was on purpose so I can be given this severe punishment. Still sliding his enormous cock in and out of me.

"I'm going to come all over your red, sore ass. I'm going to cover your ass with my cream." He reaches up and grabs a handful of my hair and pulls it back, hard at the same time he pulls his cock out of my cunt and comes all over my ass. "Bitch", he moans from a place so deep, I know he means it. And I know I deserve it.

An experiment

I begin this blog with an explanation of the reason for it's creation. I have found in the last few months that I have an obsession. It's unexpected, somewhat disturbing, somewhat delightful. I find I'm thinking constantly, or nearly, about sex, all kinds of sex, but mostly some kind of sadistic or masochistic variety. I guess you could say I "switch", I like to be both dominant and submissive. Depending on, well, I don't know. On my mood, on my partner, on how bad I'm feeling (for instance, I'm feeling particularly bad about something I did to the man I'm currently seeing, so I've had fantasies of him punishing me - more on that later).

Primarily, this blog is meant as an outlet for me to write out my fantasies. To give them some room and to get them out of my head, where they currently take up a tremendous amount of space. But, I also want to add that I'm on a bit of an expedition. Testing my limits and experimenting with my boundaries and my desires. So, what's recorded here could be real, or not. Take it for what it is. The written word.

Why a blog and not just a personal journal? There is an element of exhibitionism, I admit. But keeping these thoughts, these stories, if you will, in my own personal journal where no-one will see them is really not much different from them living in my head, and thereby defeats the purpose. And, I suppose, I'm a little curious to know what people might think of them. If you end up here and like what you've read and have something to say about it, I welcome your comments.

Reader, you may do with them what you will. If you like them, feel free to co opt them, use them in whatever way you want. Act them out, masturbate to them, share them with friends/partners. Whatever. They excite me! If they excite you, make them your own.

This blog is a work in progress. Things will change. Appearance, content, maybe even subject matter. It's good to expect change. It's going to come whether it's welcome or not.

Well, we're off to see the wizard...