Saturday, August 26, 2017

Fm Maid Fantasy

He heard three raps at the door. He felt the butterflies in his stomach stir. He bolted off the couch and ran to stand by the front door before it opened. He pulled his black sweat pants off and dropped them next to him. He was standing there naked and feeling vunerable. The door swung open. He smiled. Seeing her come home from work was a beautiful gift. He hoped he had completed his to do list to her approval. He looked him over with a small smile, before walking past him and inspecting his work. She returned to the living room tapping and reading from her phone. "Slave, Did you finish your chores?"

"Yes Mistress" he responded "I hope I have completed everything to your satisfaction.

"I noticed a few things you could improve on", she smirked, "Get Dressed".

He bent to pick up his sweatpants from the floor, but he stopped before the motion was complete. Something wasnt right. He looked at her as she glared under a raised eyebrow and shook her head. He went to his room and found his maids uniform. It had been special made in a sissy shop. The silk was grey with pink trim work. He slid it over his naked body and returned to his place by the door.

"Bring me the black duffel bag from my room." She comanded.

He did as told. He walked to her room and fetched the black bag from her closet bracing himself to endure the bites on her flogger. The butterflies were swarming now. He struggled to stand still, but his hands kept pulling at the silk skirt. He felt his breath become more shallow just from the sight of the riding crop that she pulled from the bag. She gently touched the soft leather to his wrist. He knew that it meant to stop figeting with the skirt.

"Turn around" she orderred. "Put your hands on the wall"

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Friday, April 28, 2017

Because He says so... Mf

She focused on he sound of his voice, allowing it to be her security blanket soothing her mind offering warmth and comforting her soul. Her eyes closed as she fell into the solace of his voice. She could feel his hand brush against her cheek. She stepped back until she felt the wall against her back. She could hear the smile on his voice as he admired her body. A small gasp left her mouth as she felt him hold her hand in his. She relaxed knowing nothing he could possibly do would convey what she meant to him as much as that simple gesture.

She felt his hand on her thigh, sliding up to the top of her panties under her dress. The warmth of his hand against her skin sent a shudder across her body. His hand was sliding against her smooth skin. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She remembered the rule “ no touching without permission”. Wishes for her hands to be bound above her cloud her mind. She holds her hands above her head, just as they will be bound later. She feels His fingertips touching and pulling small sounds from her.

Nothing else exists but the two of them standing there. There are no other sounds, thoughts, or feelings. His voice still remains as that warm safety blanket that wraps around her holding her close. He is truly her safe place.

She holds her breath a moment as she feels his fingertips explore against her flesh, knowing they are now drenched in the evidence of her desire for him. He admired how the smallest movement of his hand against her caused such great physical response . He adored hearing those sounds pass her lips. Knowing that he is the reason for the sounds made them even sexier.

“Cum. Cum for me.” He demanded.

There was no thought. There was only her reaction as she obeyed his command.

Her hands touch the headphones on her ears. Her knees feel weak. Her eyes open. She blinks at the empty room. She feels dizzy and leans on the wall for support. She listens to his voice still caressing against her skin and praising her for her obedience. She smiles.

She knows she can't deny that she belongs to him with every ounce of her soul.

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Wednesday, March 22, 2017


I have been busy and away.

Casanova did not have time for me. If he could not take the time to send even an email in months.... It was over before I left.

The Jester still makes me smile.

I hope to post more soon.

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Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Just another hat on the wall

A baseball cap that was faded by time and tattered with use held the honored place on the wall. It covered an engraved snowflake that stayed on display all year. It had been an ill fit gift from an unloyal friend. And also the only friend who ever gave me anything. The hat was a small reminder that someone cares what I think and seeks my approval. It was the only trace of him in my house. There were no flowers from the lust stricken admirer, no glittering jewels hidden away, no love letters laying under dust. Every time I saw the hat I shared a small smile knowing the hat that he had previously wore everyday rested on my wall. It was an elk head in the elegant dining hall. It isnt the first thing people notice, but still the one thing that doesnt truly belong.  That hat distracted me from my lonely world that I still walked through daily.  And just like him it became just another meaningless kiss in the wind. It is just another memory that reminds me of who I really am. Just like the man who wore it, the hat is gone. And I dont care one way or the other.

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Tuesday, January 10, 2017

High Heels KOTW

High Heels

I LOVE high heel shoes. I love wearing them. I love to hear the click click beneath my feet. Those of you who read some earlier posts may have guessed that I enjoy wearing heels and have aquired a nickname or two from wearing pretty heels. (And yes. Clutsy is one of them. I fell on my butt in heels while giving lecture to a group of nearly 50 people once.)

I don't feel that it changes my confidence or my personality. I dont need them to feel pretty. Although I love wearing them, I usually keep a pair of dressy flats in my car incase I need to change shoes.

What is my favorite part of wearing heels?
Those rare occasions when a man falls out of his chair trying to watch me walk a few more feet.

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Thursday, November 17, 2016

Recite for me, A Game

 The following is a game that is meant for him to lose, resulting in a playtime that he may not enjoy. I may start the stakes low and raise them, teasing that these low stakes are not motivating him enough to win. I may let him "study" for the test or let it be a surprise.

As you likely already know, I love to hear my victim's voice. I often make him count. Infact he counts everything. He may count the number of strikes he receives, or the number of seconds that pass, the number of orgasms that occur, number of thrusts,  or maybe he doesn't count at all. Maybe he recites the alphabet while I have my fun with his body.

To make this more interesting, I make him recite something, but if he pauses, then he shall suffer.

An example of this game would be making him recite the 50 states in alphabetical order. When he pauses he earns 5 strikes from my wooden paddle. If I feel kind, I may prompt him and we continue. Or maybe I change the game altogether and tell him to recite my favorite scene from macbeth. (I doubt my sub can do this the first time I ask for it. And I am sure he will study it later) There is always something to ask him for to catch him off guard. Tell me 10 elements from the periodic table, name all the ivy league schools, tell me the capitol 10 countrys or states, tell me 100 colors, and the list goes on. I will enjoy listening to his voice and when he fails to provide me with the requested knowledge fast enough, he will give me a smile as I give the promised reward for failure.

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Wednesday, November 9, 2016

A small update

I have been gone for a while. I have been focusing my writing on something I hope to enter in a writing competition. It seems that time slipped away and I have not posted anything in nearly a month.

I dont want to give away too many details here because my new sub, The Jester, wants to remain anonymous and would prefer that I dont write about him here. Casanova is still my switch. Because I am hoping to protect them both, you will not hear much of them. I can tell you that I have been having fun with both of my men, and a new friend who will be known as The Goddess.

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Vote Now

Should I stop with the fiction pieces?

Should I stop publishing random punishment ideas?

Should I stop blogging altogether?

Should I start labeling Mf and Fm?

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Monday, October 10, 2016

1st date

He sits across from me, clutching his coffee cup with both hands. His eyes follow each movement my hands made almost with the same intensity that a cat stares at a coiled snake. I glance down at the deep red laquer covering my nails, remembering they match my lipstick perfectly.
"Do you enjoy football?" I ask.
I sip my coffee and enjoy its warmth as his flash of a smile disappears giving way to his responce.

"Thank heavens your not an Auburn fan! They are loyal but I hate to see them dress themselves in those volitile colors." I exclaim.

He laughs. Something about him is charming. I do love to see the smile on his face. I slide my coffee cup to the side of the table, just to watch his eyes follow my hand. I lean forward with my elbows rested on the table and my palms open. My heart races with excitement.

He looks like prey. Did I see his eyes widen? Was it a sharp intake of that last breathe? Is it the way he follows my hands with his eyes? Is it the way he only looks relaxed for a few second before returning to that adorably attentive man sitting before me? Fuck. I dont know. He is strong. Hell, he is probably stronger than me easily. Several of my friends would ask me why I am not afraid of him, but somehow I can't explain how this strong man looks helpless. Images flash in my mind of seeing him slammed against the wall, pushing his face against my black satin sheets, and I can just almost hear him saying "please".

We continue with the small talk. I try to push those images of him against my sheets out of my mind. I try to focus on the conversation and finishing my coffee.

I ask him to walk me to my car. He flashes that charming smile for just a few seconds longer this time as he agrees. My black boots click against the tile of the coffee shop as we walk out together. I would normally slide my leather gloves over my hands before facing the frigid air outside, but I have to pull his hair. I just have to. As we stand by my car, I know his jacket doesnt fully protect him from the cold. I tell him that I will text him later and hope we can get together for a longer visit next time. Then I give him a long passionate kiss as my bare hand feels its way through his hair. I pull his hair lightly. I feel his arm wrap around me in response. Yes. My mind is made up. He will be mine. I am certain of it.

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Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Long Hair

I already wrote about the role My Hair plays in kink for me.  My new sub, jester, does have a hair kink. He actually listed it second as reasons he wanted to serve me. So for this week, I let my imagination run a little.

She kneeled next to her bed. She was careful to brush her long brown hair to her side. She just couldnt stop fidgeting. Her hand kept finding themselves combing through the long locks. He would return soon. She knew that she must be as he left her. She could hear the door open exposing her bedroom to the emty house. Excitement ran through her veins wondering what he would ask her to do and how he may chose to use her.

He sat in the chair in the corner. He was still sipping coffee from his mug. He seemed relaxed. She stole a glance in his direction that revealed him enjoying the view of the tall green grass and the pony that grazed across the front yard. He was so handsome. Her hair fell across her face and she instantly brushed it behind her ear. She could feel his gaze pressing down on her. She knew that he had seen her movement. Her fingers twirled some of the hair that rested on the floor at her side. She stared at the floor a few inches ahead of her. Her fingers moved faster.


His voice is firm. She wonders if he is mad. In that moment she only knows that his commands will be obeyed immediately or she will be truly sorry. She finds her feet beneath her against the carpet, with little thought of how she stood. Her stomach felt tight with anicipation and the wetness made her fear being unable to stand still. she was combing her fingers through her hair, using its soft touch to calm her thoughts when she felt the heat of his touch on her arm. It was a firm grip, and he pulled her down over his knees. He sat comfortably on the edge of the bed.

"You will be punished. Tell me what you did. And you better get this right".

Her mind raced. She knew she would never break a rule or do anything to anger Master. What could he mean? Her hands both stroked her hair, one hand following the other.

"Sir, I dont know what I have done. Please tell me so I may be better."

"You know better than to tease me by playing with your hair"

He hands fell still at her sides. The urge to touch her hair grew. She put her hands together, suddenly aware that she wasnt quite sure what they should be doing.

She felt his strong grip on her arm as ot pulled her off balence and over his knees. She felt the broad pain of her ribs hitting his leg. She didnt reqlly have time to register why the pain was there before she felt a swift slap of his hand on her bottom.

She counted each strike, just as he had trained her to do. Black tears ran down her face as her mind faught her body. Her body would push and try to rise off his lap but the geeture was stopped by his hand pressing into her back. She struggled to keep her hands still. She knew she didnt want to het her hands in the way but just couldnt seem to keep them stretched above her as they should be.

After 35 strikes from Masters hand, the blows stopped. He still held her in place. She waited. She flexed her hands open then closed waiting for the next blow. His hand carressed her red bottom, before pulling her bavk to her feet by her beautiful long locks.

It was her hair that got her into trouble. Too many times she had teased him, playing with her hair in public, knowing that the sight would leave him hard, even if it meant a spanking when he got home later. Sometimes it was just an absent minded gesture. He may just spank that habit out of her.

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