Kinky Sex Link

Cross posted from Packing Vocals

I’ve realised that in the past few weeks my desire has been dampened, covered with a blanket of stress and exhaustion. It didn’t completely go but lost it’s edge, it’s sharpness, it’s eagerness. An added factor was the usual monthly hormone imbalance and blood which has an annoying habit of draining the butch from me for a few days. It’s not surprising, things are tough right now so I’m not going to be too hard on myself, instead I’m going to welcome it back because it is returning, slowly, surely and with renewed force.

It started a couple of nights ago in dreamland when our bodies were folded together in the way they usually are. Spooned, your bottom pressed against my cock and your back against my chest, my arms, that feel stronger now, wrapped tightly around your torso. Even in my sleep I was so very concious of your naked body where it joined with mine. I know it so well, so intimately and yet never feel as if I have enough knowledge. Always I want more and that I think is what reached me, made me dream of sex, of love, of you.

I dreamed that I had you pinned against the wall, legs spread and my fingers on your clit, teasing you and you know I love to tease. I knew I would fuck you, bury my cock inside you, make you come, then come again and again. It was all that filled my mind. It was all I wanted and needed. It was vivid but more than that it lifted the blanket and allowed my desire to breath fresh air.

I woke up with the dream still playing in my mind, I woke up wanting you in that intense way I’m coming to know so well and love even more. It feels overwhelming at times but it is me and it’s always because of you. When it’s there, that cavernous longing, that elevated lust, there’s a marked difference in how my body feels as I move through the day. It’s more alive, it’s stronger, I can feel the rhythm of my blood as it pumps through my veins and the smallest flex of every muscle.

In acknowledging it’s needs and wants, in embracing it’s desire I become easier in myself, flowing rather than floundering. And I become more sexual, more animal, more primal in my quest to have you. I refuse to accept it is anything except right to want you like this, to yearn to touch you or take you as mine. You are my wife. Together we make more than a whole and I will always fight to keep my desire for you un-dampened.

Cross posted from Butch Femme BDSM

It was hot in the kitchen, stifling and made worse by the lack of air conditioning which had picked today to give up completely. Grady had been forced to close down early, it was too much to expect anyone to work in these conditions. The engineer knew what the problem was but couldn’t fix it until tomorrow, so she’d closed up and as soon as she finished cleaning she was out of here. May as well take advantage an afternoon off and see some daylight for a change.

Grady loved her job, the restaurant was her life and even with the long hours she still looked forward to coming to work each day. Her staff were the best, hard working and loyal she couldn’t fault them. Even today they would have continued working if she’d asked them, and none of them wanted to leave her alone to clear up. She had to order them out and Hatty, her newest recruit, resisted the most. It made Grady smile thinking about Hatty and her insistence on staying, whistling softly she continued with her work.

A few minutes later the door to the kitchen crashed open, Grady turned quickly wondering what the hell was happening. Hatty came stumbling through the door barely managing to hold onto the six pack she was carrying.

“Oops” she said as she came to a halt in front of Grady, “Thought you might need a cold beer after all that cleaning” and she grinned that nearly goofy grin of hers.

Grady looked her up and down, she had changed out of her uniform and into a short skirt and cotton shirt. She looked slightly dishevelled, flushed with the heat, a bit akward but still oddly sexy. She had deep green eyes, shortish blonde hair with a fringe which fell over her left eye. She continuously attempted to sweep it back behind her ear but it resisted all attempts to be controlled.

Grady smiled, “Good timing, I was just finishing off” she untied her apron and added

“Crack a couple open while I wash up”

Hatty looked thrilled Grady noted as she headed towards the bathroom. She wondered if the teasing was true and Hatty really did have a thing for her. When she got back from the bathroom Hatty was waiting with the beer, a blanket and bottle opener.

“I thought we could go out on the roof” she said “Might be a bit cooler up there”

Grady had to agree, the kitchen was still way too hot for comfort. She took the beers from Hatty then followed her up the three flights of stairs and out onto the roof. Not a glamorous location but it was a cooler out here. Grady watched as Hatty spread the blanket in the shade of the highest wall. She really was very attractive if a bit clumsy and puppy like. Grady opened two beers as Hatty said “I’ll be back in a minute”

She hurried off almost tripping over the beers as she headed for the stairs, Grady chuckled and settled herself on the blanket, back to the wall. When Hatty came back a few minutes later she was carrying a couple of large cushions from the staffroom. She offered one to Grady and sat down on the other so they were facing each other. Grady watched her as she sipped from her bottle, she wondered what Hatty was thinking, she appeared lost in her own head as she stared up at the clear blue sky.

“It was really nice of you to come back Hatty” Grady eventually interupted Hatty’s reverie “This beer is very welcome, in fact so welcome I need another. How about you?”

Hatty took one big swig of her bottle to finish if off “Yes please” she was eager as she put the empty bottle down and immediately knocked it over. Grady removed it from harms way and handed Hatty a full bottle “Careful” she teased Hatty “Don’t drop the full one, beer sacrilege”

Hatty laughed “I’ll try not too, but I can’t promise” Grady noticed a glint in her eye and wondered again what she was thinking.

The sun was high in the sky and it was warm even in the shade, one beer down and Grady felt a little sleepy. She closed her eyes for a moment and soaked up the warmth, enjoying the lovely day. She felt herself drifting a little and then heard a loud “Shit!”. She opened her eyes immediately and saw that Hatty had spilled beer all over herself. Quite how she’d managed to get it all over her shirt and skirt Grady wasn’t sure but both were wet and it looked like a full bottle had gone.

“I’ll go get you a towel” Grady started to get up but Hatty stopped her.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine” Hatty pushed her back into a sitting position.

“But you’re soaked Hatty” Grady gently pointed out.

“I know” Hatty smiled “But a towel won’t do much good, I’ll just take them off, they’ll dry in the sun”

Grady gulped at the thought and Hatty suddenly didn’t seem so puppy like as she stood directly in front of Grady and very slowly unbuttoned her shirt. The sun was at her back and Grady could only see her in silhouette as she shrugged it off and dropped it to the floor. When she started to undo her skirt Grady felt herself flush and she wondered where she was going to look to avoid seeing Hatty in her underwear. Hatty dropped her skirt next to her shirt making no attempt to lay them out to dry and she walked slowly back to the blanket.

It was only when she got really close that the position of the sun allowed Grady to see her properly and that was when she realised that Hatty was completely naked. “Fuck” she thought as Hatty stood astride her outstretched legs.

“Shit” Grady almost said it out loud as Hatty lowered herself to her knees so she straddled Grady’s thighs. Grady gulped and suddenly felt like a clumsy puppy herself as Hatty looked her straight in the eye.

“See Grady, no need to worry about wet clothes” she took Grady’s hand and guided it between her legs. Grady’s instinct kicked in as soon as she touched Hatty’s tender clit and felt the wetness gathered there. She teased, stroking her thumb in small circles with little pressure. She entered Hatty slowly watching her face and rewarding the downward motion of her hips with a firm upward thrust.

“God Grady that feels good” Hatty whispered. Grady increased then decreased the pace of her fingers and thumb, testing Hatty’s desire. She watched carefully, guaging accurately when Hatty was approaching orgasm and withdrawing completely. Hatty’s face fell and she moaned with frustration.

“Relax Hatty” Grady smiled wickedly as she slipped herself out from between Hatty’s legs and stood up “You’ll get what you want” and she began to unbuckle her belt while Hatty knelt in front of her and watched. Grady dropped her jeans and reached inside her boxers to pull her cock out. She mentally patted herself on the back for switching cocks when she’d gone to wash up earlier, being prepared was never a bad thing. Hatty knelt patiently the sunlight catching her naked flesh and making it glow. Her lips were parted slightly and as Grady approached her she reached a hand towards her cock.

Grady wasted no time, she grabbed Hatty’s hair and filled her mouth with cock, “Good girl” said praised as she eased backwards and forwards, delighting in the way her cock disappeared deep in Hatty’s mouth.

“I can see you like that” Grady looked into Hatty’s eyes, listened to the thickness of her breathing as she sucked and hung on tight to her own building passion. Suddenly it was too much for her, she pulled away from Hatty and ordered “Lie down”

Hatty was on her back instantly “Fuck me Grady” she reached up to pull Grady down quicker. “I want your cock” Grady didn’t need asking twice, she filled Hatty smoothly with one stroke and matched Hatty’s resulting moans with deeper thrusts.

As she fucked Hatty on the roof on a hot afternoon she realised how much this clumsy, puppy like, sexy woman had got under her skin. Which only made her pull Hatty closer and fuck her even harder.

Cross posted from Packing Vocals

I’ve had a couple of really intense sexual dreams lately, dreams where I was fucking you, hard and smooth. There was no way to tell if my cock was bio or strap on, just that it was real, belonged to me, was owned and used by me. Flesh and silicone, leather and blood it felt the same because it was the same. I could feel it pulsing, stiff and avidly filling you. I knew it was good and simply right to have my cock buried inside you. Every nerve ending in my entire body was shouting its joy, howling it loud and fucking clear. And I knew that you felt it too.

On top of you, I had you pinned by my weight and excessive desires. You were immobile apart from the compulsory movements caused by my continued and necessary thrusting. But your eyes were alive and dynamic, telling me and yelling out for more. With diminished vocabulary and a vocal range drastically reduced to a few grunts and guttural moans you declared how much I was fulfilling your needs.

Your body betrayed you, gave you away and to me at every stroke. I can play its games and win, read its wants and wet, wet, needs with ease. It thrills me to see you like that, given up, given in, surrendering entirely to my care and strict demands. Giving to my cock everything I want to take and more than I can dream.

The stream of profanity running constantly through my head goaded me, incited and drove me on yet most of it didn’t breathe fresh air. It really was pure filth in its finest impure form and what slipped through was tame and limp in comparison. Eventually, as time glides by you’ll hear it all I’m sure and the most disgusting lewdness will be music in your ears.

I know that I still bury it, the need, the longing, that I’m very good at digging great deep holes and throwing parts of myself inside. And for all my written swagger and cocksure words there are times when the real desire is swamped. When the terrified baby boy butch cowers inside and ceases to be able to connect the power and control to meaningful forward motion. When that happens, when I become inarticulate and powerless and submerged under the weight of forty fake years then maybe. Maybe those dreams are simply my way of fighting back.

And for all we’ve done and dreamed and talked about you still have no idea how much and how many ways I want to take you.

Cross posted from Packing Vocals

Several months ago I wrote about starting to use rope in our BDSM adventures and how I was enjoying it very much. Well I thought it was time for an update.

After an initial spurt of enthusiasm where I learnt several knots which I put into practice frequently I didn’t learn anything more. I was using the knots I knew and finding them very useful as well as loving tying them but life sort of took over and I didn’t push myself to learn anything more. The quest of the rope slipped to the back of my mind, unheeded but not forgotten.

However recently my wife and I had a couple of days away on our own and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to expand my rope knowledge in a quiet and uninterruptable place. I had a good idea of what I wanted to practice and two brand new long pieces of rope to use as well as several existing pieces. I was also armed with the Two Knotty Boys book and their fabulous videos.

But I always have the persistent feeling that I should be able to do it perfectly without practice or more accurately that I should not practice on my wife. All along what I’ve really wanted to do is come to my wife rope perfect and impress her with my skill and expertise. While that’s possible with some knots what I wanted to learn to tie were more involved pieces that required another body to practice on. So I knew I had to bite the bullet and appear before my wife not rope perfect but prepared to learn while maintaining an air of control. (I think I managed but only my wife can confirm that!)

I knew that I would enjoy the experience but was also prepared to face the frustration of making mistakes and that cast a slight shadow over my anticipation. When the time came I started off slowly and nervously. Faced with what seemed to be a never ending length of rope I took a deep breath and began wrapping the first of several “loops” around my wife’s torso. The rope corset was simple enough; involving repetitive actions which allowed me time to relax into the process. As the afternoon wore on I became more confident and at ease with the rope even managing to be a little bit inventive towards the end.

I felt that the session was a success, that we both enjoyed it and were ultimately satisfied but I think more importantly several things, that maybe I’d known all along, were brought into sharper focus.

Firstly there’s the sense of ritual involved from untying the rope from its plait at the start to the repetition of certain movements all the way through to retying the rope at the end. It feels wrapped in ceremony and maybe even service although I couldn’t define who was serving who.  While working with the long pieces of rope I could see short cuts, ways to tie faster but I didn’t want them. Similarly there were times when my wife offered to move to accommodate “easier” tying but again that felt wrong.  I needed to feel the full length of the rope through each individual movement because that was/is part of the ritual and the depth of that surprised me

There’s the patience involved for both of us, taking care over the process means spending time over it. With practice I will get faster, or maybe not faster just more proficient and confident. There is also trust as with any of our BDSM scenes and our relationship as a whole.  And the trust is very deep. The patience and trust combined with the ritual of the rope produced almost a meditative effect, I personally felt serene and exceptionally relaxed both during and after. I was filled with the sense that we’d spent some real quality time together doing nothing but “playing” with the rope and trusting.

My own affinity with the rope grows whenever I use it, I would love to spend more time practicing and will, now I realise that I can practice on my wife and it still be a very special experience. There are times when the rope becomes an extension of my limbs and making it part of hands and body is something to aspire to. The touch of the rope on my skin is almost as divine as it looks against my wife’s skin. Another reason for not taking short cuts with the tying is that I don’t want to miss any opportunity to savour the rope.

Amongst all of that there is of course the deep satisfaction I get from “topping” and being in control which is only enhanced by the rope. But there is an extreme caring aspect, I feel like I’m wrapping love around my wife as I tie. That every millimetre of rope is a tiny metaphor for my adoration of her;  that the more time, patience and ritual I can put into it the more cherished she will feel ; that the more in tune and attuned to the rope I become the more it will link and tie us together.

Cross posted from Packing Vocals

I picked Top as a label to reflect the part of me that is kinky and into BDSM. I could of course have picked a number of other terms; Dom or Master (but not Mistress) for example but I didn’t. Why? Well because Top feels and seems to me to be the “softer and gentler” term, the one that isn’t quite as shocking or harsh. In my head it has a more playful ring to it indicating that I’m not really sadistic or cruel or mean or even really dominant. Are you getting the feeling that I’m making excuses for my sexual deviance and sadistic ways? Well in some ways I am even though I know deep down that I have a sadistic streak. I’m not quite ready to claim anything other than “Top” and that’s absolutely fine because I’m also not hiding from the possibility of changing my label.

Our expedition into BDSM as a couple coincided with a lot of other discoveries like my dormant masculinity. I think they are inextricably linked and that they have fed each other, my masculine side has developed alongside my toppy side. I think this is down to unlocking huge areas of my sub-conscious in one go so it all came flooding out. I’m not saying that to be a Top or Dom you need to have masculine qualities just that the two were linked for me. It’s to do with confidence, accepting my masculine side gave me more self confidence generally and in the bedroom specifically, enough confidence that I can take control and “top”. Taking control in the bedroom has never been my strong point* so this whole process has completely changed our sex life and how we relate to each other sexually.

(*I showed this to my wife and she quite rightly called me out on this statement. She pointed out that actually I did have control in the bedroom but it was in a passive aggressive way. For example I would not discuss sex and would “shut down” any attempts she made to discuss sex by becoming sulky or irritated. So a more accurate statement would be that I would not take responsibility for control in the bedroom. The situation now is vastly different; sex is a regular topic of conversation which is much healthier for both of us)

I have a lot to learn about BDSM and my own personal kinks, both in theory and in practice. I think BDSM has opened up our relationship as a couple physically, emotionally, and mentally but again together we still have a lot to explore and discover. I know that the journey will continue for a very long time so I’m not going to push new ideas too quickly. Sometimes it does feel as if I take one step forward and two steps back, each new discovery has to have a period of settling in before I fully accept it. If I push too hard something in me rebels and I have to take a step back. Its fear and I try hard to fight it because I know really there’s nothing to be afraid of.

And speaking of fear, Sinclair wrote a post “My Evolving Masculinity “Daddy” , which my wife has mentioned a couple of times and as often happens it flicked a switch somewhere in my head meaning it’s one to explore. But it scares me, my understanding of “Daddy” is limited so I know there will be some reading and discussing to do but my fear comes from the possibility that I might like what I find out.

So already “Top” is feeling a bit shaky as a label, I can feel other labels creeping up on it ready to pounce and take it out. When that will happen I don’t know but like everything these days it’s all part of the process of learning and defining then re-defining and growing.

Originally posted on Butch Femme BDSM

Jan and Lizzie

Jan admired herself in the mirror. Her freshly cut short hair looked slick, she suited it more than she’d anticipated and she was pleased she’d plucked up the courage to get it done. She was dressed in a pale blue shirt topped with a suit jacket, tight black jeans and smart black shoes. Her hand strayed to her crouch where she fondled the visible and exciting bulge which was her new cock. Its feel and shape in her trousers plus the pressure of its base on her clit was making her excessively horny. She couldn’t wait to get to Lizzie’s house so she could try fucking with it for the first time. Grabbing her keys she hurried to the car, she didn’t want to keep Lizzie or herself waiting.

She arrived at Lizzie’s house bang on 8 o’clock, rang the bell and waited impatiently. She hoped Lizzie would be pleased with her new look and as excited as she was by her cock. Lizzie let her in and once they reached the sitting room she studied Jan carefully. “Wow” she said, “You look great” She looked for the expected bulge in Jan’s trousers and smiling she reached down to squeeze and tease Jan’s cock. Jan’s excitement rose instantly and she grabbed Lizzie and kissed her hard, as Lizzie responded she pushed her crotch against her insistently. “You’re very eager tonight” Lizzie whispered, obviously finding the situation amusing. For some reason this made Jan even more desperate and she pulled her closer, kissing her neck and running her hands eagerly over Lizzie’s back and bottom.

“I want you” she growled in Lizzie’s ear as she pushed her back towards the table. “Oh god!” was all Lizzie could mange as Jan continued to kiss her passionately while hurriedly undoing the buttons on her shirt. Jan squeezed Lizzie’s breasts, pinched her nipples and bent down to lift her skirt. Running her fingers over the fabric of Lizzie’s knickers she grinned at her rapidly moistening clit. She dragged Lizzie’s knickers down before positioning her half leaning, half sitting on the table and continuing to tease her wet clit. Lizzie responded to Jan’s desire with her own in equal amounts, and pulled frantically at Jan’s zip in an attempt to free her cock. Jan used her free hand to help and once her trousers were round her ankles she managed to release her throbbing cock. She wasted no time and thrust roughly into Lizzie’s hot, open cunt as they both lost themselves in desire.

Lizzie and Sandy

The conference was boring as hell and Lizzie couldn’t bear it any longer so she sneaked out of the main hall to have a wander round the exhibition. She wasn’t really interested in the displays but it was better than the tedious speaker she had been listening to. She paused in front of a stand offering “Exceptional Business Software Solutions” as well as the usual free pens etc, she wasn’t paying attention but a sultry voice interrupted her reflections. “Can I interest you in a demonstration?” When she looked up Lizzie saw a very handsome woman, smart business suit and perfectly groomed. The woman looked directly into her eyes and Lizzie wished it wasn’t the software she was offering to demonstrate. Her mouth opened and the word “yes” fell out before she’d even thought about it. “I’m Sandy” The woman smiled, “If you’d like to step into the office we can run through the demonstration in comfort” Lizzie had committed herself but at least the inevitably boring demo would be given by this sexy woman with the sultry voice.

Once settled into comfortable chairs in the office Sandy began her sales pitch, highlighting the advantages of the software over its competitors. Lizzie wasn’t listening to the words but was enjoying the soft seductive tone of Sandy’s voice as well as her close physical proximity in tiny office. She started to drift off into a very entertaining fantasy involving Sandy, herself and some hot, wet sex when she felt a hand on her thigh. She looked up but Sandy hadn’t faltered in her sales pitch or her manipulation of the mouse with her other hand. So she glanced down to make sure she wasn’t dreaming and saw Sandy’s hand travel slowly up her leg then under her skirt to her inner thigh. It rested there a moment while Lizzie held her breath then Sandy expertly began to tease her without breaking stride in her spiel about the software. By the time Sandy had worked her way past the thin lace of Lizzie’s knickers to find her clit and cunt she was more than ready to welcome her.

Sandy and Madeline

Walking in the woods was one of Sandy’s favourite ways to start the weekend, especially in springtime and the earlier in the day the better. Madeline, her good friend of nearly 8 years enjoyed the woods too and they tried to take a walk most Saturdays weather permitting. On this particular Saturday it was just past 6am when they’d started out, turning right at the corner of the road and a few hundred yards further on was the start of the extensive woodland which was one of the reasons they walked here. Being out in the fresh air suited them both and they sauntered casually along exchanging idle conversation, commenting on flowers and trees or savouring the sights and sounds of the day beginning. This early it was unusual to encounter anyone else and they tried to avoid meeting people, it would spoil their delight at walking alone.

Madeline decided their route as she always did, she liked to walk away from the more frequently used trails and explore new areas. Sandy was perfectly happy with this arrangement; she liked the surprise and excitement of not knowing where they would end up. After walking for half an hour or so they were well away from any signs of human life and Madeline led them to a small clearing. Sandy looked round wondering if they’d been here before, her sense of direction was poor but that didn’t matter since Madeline would always get them home. She looked at Madeline questioningly and Madeline nodded meaning this was where they would take a break. Smiling Sandy walked over to a large and very solid tree, put the palms of her hands flat against the trunk and rested her forehead gently on the rough bark. Then she waited.

Madeline nodded silent approval at Sandy’s assuming the correct position without any verbal instruction but after knowing each other for so long she shouldn’t be surprised. Without a word she stood behind Sandy, reached round and unfastened her jeans, pulling them down around her ankles. Then she eased down Sandy’s knickers and stood back for a second to admire her pretty bottom before removing the belt from her own trousers. Sandy stood perfectly still not moving a muscle, patiently waiting for her Saturday morning treat. When Madeline struck her with her belt the first time Sandy felt her mind clear and let herself fall totally into the experience of being spanked and exposed in the beautiful woodland.

Madeline and Jan

Madeline tapped her foot, “Faster boi” she ordered and Jan hurried to finish strapping on the thick silicone cock before standing up as straight as he could, arms by his side, in front of Madeline. Smiling and arms crossed Madeline looked him over for several moments before circling round him to issue a stinging slap to his buttocks. “On your back, on the bed. Now” was Madeline’s next command and Jan wasted no time in obeying, knowing he would be punished if he was too slow. Madeline roughly took hold of Jans wrists dragging them over his head and tying them securely to the headboard. Next she tied Jan’s ankles together and fastened them to the bottom of the bed. Flat on his back and unable to move Jan’s cock stood up proud from its black leather harness making Madeline smile, delighted with her boi’s obedience and the prospect of lowering her eager cunt onto his cock. But only when the time was right.

Madeline knelt on the bed one knee on each side of Jan’s legs, smoothly she pulled her white silk slip over her head so she was completely naked. She watched the passion in Jan’s eyes and the twitching of his hands which made her all the more eager to torment him. Madeline’s cunt was wet, seeing Jan helpless and so willing to submit to her every desire always made her cunt wet. She stroked her hand over her breasts, down her stomach and slipped it between her legs. Opening her lips so Jan had the best possible view she began to tease her clit, building the already burning desire in both of them. Still playing with her clit Madeline moved so she was positioned over Jan’s desperate cock, Jan’s response was to try his best to raise his hips, to get his cock another millimetre closer to the object of his need. But Madeline wasn’t ready to allow him that pleasure just yet, “Lie still” she ordered “I am going to pleasure myself until I come and then I will use your cock but throughout you will not move a muscle.”

Cross posted from Butch Femme BDSM

“Mary!” Bess voice startled her, “I wasn’t expecting you.” Mary looked at Bess, mouth open, eyes wide, she looked down at the large cock in her hand, dropped it and headed for the door. “Sorry it’s obviously not convenient” she babbled as she pushed past Bess and left. Mary hurried back to her own home and only when the door was safely closed behind her did she allow herself to really think about what she’d seen. Mary was by no means naive, she read and watched TV, she even used the internet so what she’d seen was not a complete mystery. She didn’t know if she should be horrified or outraged or upset or disgusted. It was obvious where Bess’ interests lay and just as well they had not properly rekindled their friendship. Her phone rang, she looked at the display to see Bess’s name insistently illuminated with each ring, she placed it face down on the table and went about her evening routine determined to never see Bess again.

The next morning Mary woke early from half remembered dreams, disturbed to find her hand resting on the moist patch between her legs. She got up and made tea, she wondered about Bess, would she be embarrassed and ashamed that Mary had found out her secret. In her mind Mary went through each item contemplating the possible uses, wondering about the kinds of people who partook of such activities. She thought about the ropes, the chains, the cane and the crop, she wondered about those leather wrist bands and could still feel the weight of the cock in her hand. It made her stomach feel unsettled and odd.

She walked the dog, her unconscious footsteps skirting the edge of town until somehow she was on the hill overlooking Bess’ house. She stared down at the neat garden for several minutes as the dog skipped around her ankles. Suddenly he barked, he’d seen Bess come through the front door, suitcase in hand, she unlocked her car and threw it in the boot. Mary ducked down, grabbed the dog and hushed him desperate that Bess wouldn’t see her. A branch scratched her arm and her knees ached but she didn’t move or make a sound as she watched Bess finish loading her car and drive off. Mary remained where she was for several minutes unable to fathom the mixture of emotions surging through her. Finally she stood up to make her way home, muddy, aching and with a feeling of desolation flooding over her.

All week Mary tried to forget Bess and her sordid secret, she kept busy, she saw friends, she did anything to distract her mind. But it was impossible, Bess had become such a part of her life so quickly that she couldn’t help but miss her even though she was angry and shocked. Every time she thought about the trunk and its contents her stomach twisted in knots, it seemed so wrong, so surprising that kind Bess could enjoy that kind of sexual activity. Tying people up, beating them, Mary’s head insisted it was shameful, disgusting, and perverse, yet every time it she thought about it unbidden wetness formed between her legs.

Friday dawned and when the letterbox clattered, Mary retrieved the single letter. She looked at the familiar yet strange hand writing that simply said “Mary”. She debated whether to open the letter her curiosity finally winning as she convinced herself that she deserved the apology she knew would be inside. She was wrong, there was no apology just a simple instruction. “Come tonight at 7pm. Your questions will be answered. Bess” Mary threw the letter to one side, how dare she assume that she would go running back to that house with its dirty secrets.

All day Mary was determined not to go but at 5.30 she showered and dressed carefully in her favorite dress. She told herself she would go to the cinema in town or for a meal at the new restaurant she had wanted to try. At 6.30 she fed the dog and locked the windows, at 6.45 she left the house and by 6.55 she was at Bess’ gate. She looked at the house, warm friendly lights shone from the sitting room window drawing her in. She walked slowly down the path and took a deep breath before ringing the bell.

Bess answered promptly and Mary somehow wasn’t surprised to find no hint of shame or remorse on Bess’ face. “Good evening Mary” Bess smiled “I’m glad you came although I would have been surprised if you hadn’t”

Mary felt like she should be indignant at the remark but deep down she knew that Bess was right, she was always going to come. They made their way into the sitting room and Bess poured wine for them both. “Sit down Mary” she said and Mary obediently did. She waited for Bess to speak, she sipped her wine and waited some more. Bess was considering her carefully and Mary could feel a slight flush spread across her cheeks.

“Mary” Bess finally spoke “I’m not going to deny what you saw or apologize for it. If you want we can just pretend it doesn’t exist and continue to be friends” she paused. Mary took another sip of her drink feeling sure there was more to come.

“Or I can show you. Help you experience something new and exciting. What do you think Mary?” Bess held her eyes, waiting for a response. Mary swallowed, her head felt light and incoherent. She opened her mouth but no words came because she didn’t know how to admit her real desire.

“I think you know deep down Mary that the second option is the one which would make our friendship so much more fulfilling.” Bess’ eyes were shining. She held out her hand “Would you like to come upstairs Mary?” Compelled by Bess’ voice and the growing desire in the pit of her stomach and between her legs, she took Bess’ hand. Mary felt suddenly calm as she followed Bess up the stairs, forgetting all the anxiety and worry of the previous week she placed her trust in Bess. They entered the bedroom and Bess paused “The trunk is there Mary, have another look. Anything you don’t understand ask”

Glancing at Bess for reassurance and being granted it with a smile she moved over to the trunk which sat proudly against one wall. She opened it but this time she took her time examining the contents, it was all there, the chains, rope and leather cuffs, the cane, whip and crop. When she realized the large cock was missing she felt weak, she wondered, hoped she knew where it was and where it would soon be. In the far corner of the room there was a high backed armless chair, flanked by a low table, making her way over to the table Mary examined the various implements laid out, and started to give in to the immense sexual desire flooding through her veins. She realized that Bess was standing beside her resting her hand lightly on her lower back.

Bess smiled “Would you like to ask anything?”

“No.” she said firmly “Show me” she turned to face Bess who pulled her close and kissed her, firmly, tenderly. She pulled Mary’s arms gently behind her back and held them there, waiting for a hint of resistance but none came. Mary leaned into Bess, pressing her body as close as she could to show Bess this is what she wanted. When Bess pulled away Mary could sense the shift in her, a new edge that made her shiver with anticipation.

Bess sat down on the chair and pulled Mary towards her, “Do as I say Mary.” She warned as she guided her down over her knee. And then it began, gentle taps at first barely noticeable through her clothes but gradually getting harder. As the pace increased the reality dawned on Mary that she was lying across Bess’ knee being spanked and every blow was making her wetter. She moaned and Bess checked that she was ok. “Please don’t stop Bess”

Bess lifted her dress, pulled it right up around her waist, making Mary acutely aware of how exposed she was. Now Bess’ hand made contact with the bare flesh of her thighs as well as the parts of her bottom still partially decent in knickers. Mary allowed herself to sink into the sensations, folded over Bess’ lap willing and wet. Bess talked, encouraged and scolded, warned when she was about to hit hard, soothed when Mary cried out.

After too short a time or so it seemed to Mary Bess instructed her to stand and hold her dress up round her waist. Mary obeyed, it seemed so natural to be stood here showing Bess her knickers her cheeks warm from Bess’ strong hands. Bess turned the chair around and bent Mary over it, “Keep that dress held high”, the cold steel in her voice making Mary want her more. A minute or so passed while Bess was quiet and Mary waited, then suddenly Mary’s knickers were down, hanging pointlessly at her knees, her bottom, her clit, her cunt revealed to Bess. Mary could feel her eyes, knew her most intimate parts were being scrutinized and the knowledge made her wetter, a trickle of desire making its way slowly down her inner thigh.

Bess admired out loud Mary’s wetness, the beauty of her clit and helpfully expressed her intention to possess Mary’s cunt and make it her own. Then Mary felt pain, stinging across both of her bare cheeks, a delightfully new sensation, piercing and clear. Again it came, lower but with as much force and while it faded to dull heat a third stroke knocked Mary’s brain into gear. She was being caned, the knowledge, the pain, the closeness of the cane’s mistress were almost too much for Mary. She had never felt so turned on, so filled with sexual need. Three more strikes and Bess put the cane down, Mary was breathing hard, still in position and ready to be taken by Bess.

Bess turned her, unfastened her dress and slipped it off, she removed her bra and discarded her knickers. Mary was naked, bare and aching for climax. “Lie on the bed” Bess commanded and of course Mary obeyed. Bess pulled her arms over her head and tied her wrists securely to the headboard. Mary’s breathing was thick, all her senses alive as she felt the ropes being tied round each ankle and her legs being pulled apart so she was spread wide open. Then Bess was kneeling between her legs Mary gasped at the bulge in her boxers, felt her soaked cunt contract eagerly as Bess pulled her cock free. She locked eyes with Mary and stroked her cock “Is this what you want?”

Somehow Mary managed a “Yes” barely finishing the word before Bess plunged deep inside her. As Bess fucked her, took possession of her, filled her in a way she had never imagined Mary knew she’d found what she had been looking for.

Cross posted from Butch Femme BDSM

Mary tugged hard at the stubborn weed determined to remove it from her garden, tiny beads of sweat forming on her brow to mark the exertion. While her body performed its physical tasks her mind wandered over the changes to her life in the last few months. She lived alone now, all three of her children had left home to make their own lives and her husband was also gone. Not dead just discarded like the useless rubbish he was, she smiled as she remembered the scene. The day after their youngest child had left for university Mary had packed his bag and shown him the door. He was astounded, he protested and pleaded but she stood her ground. She had planned it, worked quietly towards it and no matter what he said she refused to be moved. He’d served his purpose and she wanted rid of him, lying cheating rat that he was.

So at 53 Mary was free to please herself and do whatever she desired with her life but so far she hadn’t managed to find out exactly what that was. She wanted to try different things, have new and exciting experiences but after living in the same small town her whole life she was having problems figuring out how to start. She used the internet and searched for activities for single women of her age but nothing grabbed her, nothing was exciting enough. She sighed and continued battling the persistent weeds hoping that inspiration would show itself soon.

The dog barked suddenly causing Mary to start and look up. Tail wagging franticly he’d made his way to the gate where he stood on his hind legs being petted. Blinded by the sun Mary couldn’t make out who it was, someone friendly judging by the dog’s reaction, the dog never got it wrong, he’d hated her husband. There was something vaguely familiar about the visitor, the way they moved and held themselves but it was only when they spoke that Mary realised who it was.

“Mary. I’d heard rumours you still lived round here. I’m so glad it’s true” Instantly Mary was propelled back in time, startled by the sudden rush of memories triggered by that voice.

At seventeen she’d been innocent, naïve and so very happy to have Bess as a friend. For two years they had been very close, almost inseparable, Mary’s father had encouraged the friendship believing it would keep her out of trouble with the local boys. It might have been the early seventies but no-one had managed to convince her father that it wasn’t still the fifties. Mary hadn’t been able to define her feelings for Bess but she knew they were deeper than ordinary friendship. The day they’d acted on those feelings was the day they got caught. Mary blushed inwardly at the memory; a brief but passionate embrace, hand on her thigh, inching under her skirt, almost brushing the thin material of her knickers. Her father walking in shouting, red faced and angrier than she’d ever seen him before.

The shame and humiliation had been hard to bear but the loss of Bess who had been banished to relatives in London had cast a shadow across Mary’s heart for years to come. She should have followed her, fought to stay in touch but instead she gave in to her father’s pressure and within a year found herself married.

As the sun dipped behind a cloud Bess became visible and Mary managed to drag herself to her feet. “My God” her hand rose involuntarily to her mouth, “Bess” Mary didn’t quite know what to do, how do you greet a long lost almost lover?

Bess smiled broadly “It’s so good to see you Mary” she opened the gate and walked towards Mary who stood transfixed. The dog bounded towards her almost knocking her over and bringing her sharply back to reality. Suddenly Mary laughed “Bess! After all these years” A brief embrace and Mary stood holding Bess’ hands, eyes tracing the face of her friend who she hadn’t seen for over 35 years. “Come in; let me make you some tea. This is such a lovely surprise.” She guided Bess towards the house and settled her in the kitchen while she put the kettle on. There were a multitude of questions racing round Mary’s head; too many to articulate in one go so she simply asked “What have you been doing for all these years?”

Bess laughed “Where would you like me to start?” she replied. Sitting down with the tea Mary said “Well how about we start with what you’re doing here now and work backwards?” Beth sipped her tea and explained to Mary that she had been looking for a house in the area, “I’m planning to move back here Mary, sort of semi retirement. I’ve just made an offer on a house.” Mary was delighted, “That’s wonderful Bess. It will be so good to get re-acquainted properly” A look flashed across Bess’ face, old memories perhaps and Mary waited for her to say something about what had almost happened between them but instead Bess said “What about you Mary? Tell me something of your life”

Mary talked for awhile about her children and her ex husband glossing over the bad times; it felt so good to be sitting here with Bess she didn’t want to spoil it. All too soon Bess said she had to catch the train back to London, they exchanged numbers and Bess promised she’d let her know the next time she was coming to town. “It will be soon Mary and I’ll take you out to dinner so we can catch up properly” After she’d gone Mary couldn’t help reliving every second of Bess’ brief visit and many of the happy times they’d shared as teenagers. Later that evening she received a text from Bess, “Can’t tell you how good it was to see you. Will be back next week. Sleep well Mary” And Mary did with a smile on her face and sweet memories filling her dreams.

The next few days passed slowly for Mary and she found herself propelled back to the past continuously. She couldn’t help thinking about Bess and the friendly texts she received each day didn’t help. But she wasn’t complaining, she felt more alive than she had in years and each text brought a small excited leap in her stomach. When she finally got the call from Bess inviting her to dinner she was amazed at how excited she felt. She had her hair done at the most expensive place in town, bought a new dress and spent a long time deciding on accessories. When she looked at herself in the mirror she was pleased with what she saw, she hadn’t aged too badly, she still had a good figure and she still felt attractive.

Bess picked her up and drove her to a popular restaurant in a neighboring town. They sat and talked easily throughout the meal, about the past, old friends and acquaintances. Thirty five years melted away. Mary couldn’t take her eyes off Bess, when she’d left the village she had been an awkward teenager, a tomboy but now she was a refined and well educated woman. Striking with her well kept short grey hair, casual but smart trousers and shirt, Bess had done well for herself with a successful career but Mary was surprised to learn she’d never married. “Mary” Bess leaned over the table “I never married because I’m gay.” she smiled and Mary laughed at her own stupidity. “But has there never been anyone special Bess?” she asked.

“Well I’ve had my fair share of relationships” Bess replied “but no nothing really special, nothing that lasted more than a couple of years. I guess I’m just a loner”

When the evening came to an end Bess took Mary home and refused her offer of coffee “Next time Mary” she said “but not tonight, I have to leave very early for London in the morning” Mary was disappointed, she really wanted to spend more time with Bess but she had to accept that there would be other opportunities.

Several weeks passed and Mary saw Bess with increased regularity, dinners, outings, leisurely walks and lazy coffees. Mary felt as if Bess had always been part of her life, in many ways she had, all they were doing now was regaining what had been lost all those years ago. “And perhaps moving forward,” Mary wondered where their friendship would lead now they were older, wiser? She secretly hoped, longed for more than just friendship, would have sworn that Bess felt the same, the way she looked at her, held her arm protectively when they walked, called every night. But Bess made no attempt to change the nature of their friendship and Mary didn’t know how to so she waited and hoped.

The day Bess moved into her new home grew nearer. The house was lovely and Mary couldn’t wait for Bess to be a more permanent fixture in her life. Only one thing puzzled Mary and that was Bess’ insistence that she didn’t need help on the day. Mary had offered several times but Bess just wouldn’t accept, she was adamant that she wanted to do it on her own, that Mary had done enough and that she was welcome to visit the following day. It seemed silly to Mary but she had no choice, although privately she planned to do something to ease the stress of Bess’ move.

The day arrived and Mary went about her own preparations, she’d decided that a surprise picnic including a bottle of very nice wine would be welcomed by Bess. She waited until late afternoon knowing that by then the removal company would have finished and Bess would be alone unpacking. When she arrived at Bess’ house she rang the bell and waited impatiently but there was no answer so she tried the door, perhaps Bess had popped out. Mary called out then listened for any sound that would tell her where Bess might be. Nothing, she waited and wondered what she should do, she opened the sitting room door intending to look out of the window into the garden. The sitting room was strewn with a variety of boxes and packing cases as well as a large trunk, a typical moving day scene.

Curious Mary couldn’t resist, she wandered to the nearest box, the packing tape had been removed and the cardboard flaps were loose, she lifted first one then another. The box was full of books, she smiled Bess had always loved books, picking up the top one she flipped it over to look at the title, “Sexual Massage”. She flushed, put the book back and picked up another with a very plain cover and the title “Art and BDSM”, Mary wasn’t sure what the title meant exactly. She let the book fall open and was shocked to see a photo of a woman tied naked to a chair. Mary dropped the book back in the box, she wasn’t sure that Bess’ idea of art was the same as hers. She moved to the next box which was already open, she peeked inside, it seemed to be full of rope and chain, “What on earth would Bess need with all this?” she thought “A project in the garden maybe?” Next she turned her attention to the trunk, she knew she really shouldn’t be snooping like this but she was just so interested in anything to do with Bess.

Mary considered the trunk, it was big and old but beautifully restored, the lid was unlocked so she lifted it carefully. Inside were three square compartments and a long thin one, each with an individual lid. Mary felt her stomach tighten, she almost stopped herself but the part of her that was desperate to know everything about Bess won. She lifted the lid of the first compartment, inside were lots of bottles and containers all different shapes and sizes, “Toiletries?” she wondered. The next compartment was even more confusing, she picked up one of the items, it seemed to be some kind of leather wrist band. Perplexed she lifted the rectangular lid, there was no mistaking some of the things in this part. A cane, what looked like a whip, a riding crop, Mary dropped the lid quickly, her mind racing and several pennies beginning to drop all at once. Taking a deep breath she lifted the final lid, the first object she saw was shaped like a cock. She couldn’t help it, she picked it up, it was firm but soft and it was big. “Oh god” she whispered.

Cross post from Packing Vocals

There are times when everything I do is about building. Constructing subtle sensations and enthralling impressions to assemble a teetering form. Delicately balanced and cemented with passionate pain, a tenuous structure and a solid, durable state.

Power induced architecture.

Strip the ground back to its natural naked self, unsown and bare. Remove the debris of clothing to reveal unending, fallow beauty. Verbally sketched plans; digging foundations with leather and earthy rope. Pile driven chains and tormented brick work, tainted fabricated steel.

Deviant design.

Building upward, slapping brick on brick, a dark towering structure, paddled, spanked and flogged into being. Beaten floors and thrashed walls; smacked ceilings covered with robust submission. Shadowy stairwells shackled to corridors flowing with crazed delight. Doors unlocked and gaping, rooms crammed with shivering welcome. Smarting, stinging windows permanently glazed and blissfully bolted. Wild garden, spread wide, open, exposed and brimming with burgeoning lust.

Proud immoral erection.

Every twisted conscious move overloaded with gratuitous pleasure but always building towards the inevitable critical end. Deep inside you rhythmically throbbing and verbally goading, edging closer to the apex. Marking the changes in your body, your breath and the eyes of your soul for the moment. That split second in time when keenly observed you hit the edge. And I can press and thrust and ride your orgasm, quicker and faster and harder and deeper. Crash against it, over it, under it, fighting fiercely through it; pitching us both headlong over the edge.

Demolition.

Cross posted from Packing Vocals

About a year ago my wife bought some lovely rope, a long length of silky black bondage rope. It was early in our experimentation with BDSM and while the idea of rope bondage excited me preliminary investigations into techniques also scared me. It is such a beautiful art and I felt daunted by the prospect of beginning to learn even the basics. I loved the idea of creating well crafted and intricate knots but I didn’t want to start learning when everything else to do with BDSM was still so new.

So the rope sat almost unwrapped in the locked chest by the bed, not forgotten but unused. Occasionally I took it out, thought about how good it would be to use it, imagined spending time binding my wife and enhancing her exquisitely beautiful body with rope adornment. Except I knew I would only start to experiment with the rope when I was ready to learn how to use it properly.

Then the other day we were wandering around some second hand shops when I spotted a small kit called “Five knots every boy should know”. A boy scout kind of kit with five instruction cards for the different knots and a piece of rope to practice with. I splashed out (50p) to buy it and it was the trigger I needed to start exploring rope bondage. So far I’ve done some research, learned a few ties and seen lots I want to learn, thanks mainly to Two Knotty Boys. We’ve experimented a little and my very patient wife has been very encouraging while I fumbled around with the lovely silky black rope.

I’ve sat in the car at lunchtime and practiced the knots I’ve learned, book at the ready and one eye open for anyone coming too close. I haven’t quite worked out an explanation for sitting alone tying knots with what some might consider a questionable book by my side. A long shoe lace is usually somewhere about my person ready for the odd moments when I can quickly practice a knot, waiting for the kettle to boil for example. I’ve also discovered that shoe laces tied in certain ways can make very entertaining cat toys!

The little I’ve learned so far has really excited me and I think enhanced our already wonderful sex life. There is something so very sensual about wrapping rope around bare skin, much more so than I imagined, particularly if you’ve just patiently and gleefully stripped that same skin. I’m thrilled at the prospect of learning more about rope bondage, the idea of building up to more intricate and stunning pieces gives me a sense of elation. I suspect a year from now there may be a vast array of rope waiting patiently in that locked chest.