Knock knock

He’s finally here, ready to make good on the promise of covering me in cum for being such a good girl.

The door had barely opened when I found myself desperately searching for his lips. Who has time for mindless chatter? I had an hour before class, he was sneaking away from the corporate drudgery. Minutes counted.

He threw me down and had me topless halfway up the stairs. Frenzied hands grasping for any bit of exposed flesh. Eyes filling with desires that couldn’t possibly be fully realized. Tongues exploring lustfully. We tore apart long enough to make our way upstairs… Barely.

Since our last encounter it had become obvious that he was powerless against the way my body moved when I undressed for him. I’m no longer allowed that indulgence. Instead he gets to pull off my pants. I can feel his reckless abandon as he reveals my naked body. He wants it just as badly as I want his.

Our clothes are a heap on the floor (who has time to be tidy, right?) and I’m fighting between the urge to rush through a quick hate fuck or slowly take my time on his cock. But that choice was never mine to make, not really. He manoeuvres me in to position with my head overhanging the side of the bed and commands me to relax my throat.

A good face fucking. That’s exactly what every lucky girl should skip lunch for.

He starts off slowly. Deliberately. Almost gently. As he guides my head in to the best position for his pleasure that familiar feeling rushes over me. I’m a toy. My body is for his pleasure. The thought catches me off guard and I cum hard. Maybe he feels too good to notice, or maybe he’s not in the mood to punish my stolen euphoria. It doesn’t matter. He quickens his pace and my throat starts going raw. I feel that thick spit gather and I settle in for a long mindless blow job… But he has other plans.

He makes me beg before finally giving me a taste of satisfaction as he thrusts his cock deep in to my greedy pussy over and over again. As we find a rhythm I’m vaguely aware of my screams echoing off the walls. I giggle thinking of the contractors next door, they must hear me being treated like the whore I am.

The rest is kind of a blur, the way those frenzied first fucks usually are. He did eventually call me on those stolen orgasms but I’m too cute to stay mad at. And I was finally rewarded with his warm, sweet cum all over my chest. I even got to lick it up…

…good girls always do.


We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming..

Good morning you sexy things!

I just wanted to take a moment to have a chat. I’m excited to have found a bit of inspiration and I promise to update more regularly until that tap runs dry (I may be working on something as we speak) but I need to add a little caveat first.

Today is international woman’s day! A day not only to celebrate the wonderful women who have supported, cheered for and loved you, but also to reflect on where we’re at on that whole equality thing. Hint : not far enough.

I know this is a hot button issue (because people refuse to actually look at facts) but it’s important. Please remember that having privilege is not a bad thing (we all have it) but using it to keep others down makes you a dick – and not the good kind.

So, while I stare down the barrel of a few more nights of rough sex and look forward to a man forcing me to my knees, degrading me and bringing out that dirty little slut side I missed terribly, remember: feminism is essential if we want a society where women feel empowered enough to submit.

Also ending gendered violence…reaching equal pay…breaking the glass ceiling…reproductive rights…family leave… Do you get the point yet? Ok perfect 😘

Drinks anyone?

I almost cancelled, five times. I was just too nervous to follow through with the whispered plans and laid out fantasies. He was too intense, it had been too long.

I’m lucky I didn’t.

I knew as soon as he met me at the door that he was more than just pretty words sent over text. Did he notice I was shaking? He started by making a simple request that I ignored. We were both testing the waters and he had to know I wasn’t going to be easy.

By the time he sat down across from me at the bar, my false bravado had all but disappeared. I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. I wanted him. I wanted to see his face when I brought him to the edge of ecstasy and at the moment of release. I wanted him to grab me by the hair and force orgasm after orgasm until couldn’t move. Did he notice my mind wandering?

“Look at me” eye contact was excruciating. It felt like he could see every filthy thought that ran through this deprived slut’s mind. He calmly commanded, “spread your legs”. The whole bar melted away as I tried to hold it together. “wider” “Good girl”

I was powerless. What happened next wasn’t my fault. When a man can look at you and demand your submission with such ease there isn’t much you can do.

The next thing I knew we were sneaking into the back stairs. “Hands on the wall,” I really did try to keep some illusion of being a lady but within moments my back was arched and my legs were spread. He forced my tight black dress up to reveal my dripping wet pussy. The brat never goes away… but the slut? I missed her.

My knees buckled as I fought the urge to turn around and tear off his suit, but one should always try to be polite on the first date… and something told me that misbehaviour would be corrected on the spot. He was the picture of control as he slowly used his hands to explore my body, grabbing and teasing my throbbing pussy. The shaking was back and I was on the verge of making more noise than would have been wise given the clandestine circumstances

He didn’t allow me to cum.

I was desperate by the time we made our way back to the bar. I just wanted to be a good girl. Or bad a girl. Or whatever girl gets a climax so intense it that scares the neighbours.

Instead, I got more games. We sat at a quiet table in the back corner and he teased my dress over my hips again. Reminding me that good posture shows off my tits to the rest of the bar he eased his fingers inside of me. I didn’t dare move. Not an inch. “Finish your drink”. To the rest of the bar, it must have looked so innocent – a well-dressed man with his arm around the waist of a younger woman. Maybe a few would have noticed the way he leaned in close to talk in my ear, but the bar was loud, that was to be expected, right?

He smiled smugly as I squirmed. I knew nobody could see but the thought of that room full of men knowing what a whore I was being turned me on. I had to get him to stop.

That’s when the trouble started. I really am a sweet girl, I swear. But a couple of drinks in and I get arrogant. I’ve learned that this isn’t cute. I may have pushed my luck a little too hard when I insisted that my pretty face was good enough to keep him in the palm of my hand. I maybe shouldn’t have been so sure that my fluttering eyelashes would make him forget that he was the one in charge. Maybe. But, maybe he baited me into the arrogant way I assured him that I would get a second date because he was powerless against my charm.

He was not powerless.

Making eye contact he reached up and applied pressure to a point in my back “I can’t spank you in the bar now can I?” he said, without losing an ounce of his composure. The pain was immediate. I buried my face in his neck and tried not to cry out. I wanted to run away. I never wanted him to stop. It hurt. My thighs were sticky. I was going to cry. I was going to cum.

I did end up getting my second date, but not without a lot of recovery and the promise of being a really, really good girl next time.


On My Knees Again 

He stayed home this morning. It would seem that the brat coming out in full force this weekend wasn’t just going to be ignored like I had hoped. 
Sliding my collar around my neck and pulling it tight, he breathed softly in to my ear. As he put on the blindfold he ordered me in to position – hands and knees, arched back, spread just enough for easy access and head up – so he could put on my cuffs. Concentrating on my ass with the leather flogger he quickly ramped up to hard blows all over my back and thighs. 

“I thought this one was too soft?” He laughed as I struggled to keep position. Maintenance was going to be easy this week. 
Then he grabbed his Christmas paddles and layed one softly across my back. I trembled and immediately dropped flat on the bed. I hate those things with a passion. He allowed it for a few minutes as he reassured me that everything would be alright. Did I trust him? Yes. Did I want to be a good girl? Yes. Did I love him? Of course. He guided me back to my knees. 

Now that he had my reluctant approval he was going to show me what submission would mean for now on. I had begged him for this just a few nights before. I desperately demanded him to put me back in place, complained that I felt lost without his firm hand. I wanted this. I needed it. 

The hard wood maybe contact with my soft flesh over and over again. I cried out I’m desperation but my pleading was only muffled by the gag in my mouth. Every time I faltered I felt his hands pull me up again: A gentle reminder to stay arched and a firm swat to drive the point home. 


I was going to be obedient, right? Yes, Daddy. 


And respectful? 

Yes, Daddy. 

As he punctuated my new expectations with hard blows to my thighs I felt calm wash over me. Yes, I would be kneeling by the bed waiting every night. Yes, I was Daddy’s slut. Yes, I would behave. He reminded me that good girls get cuddles and bad girls get bruises. With each lick of the paddle, he reminded me that love and guidance comes in many forms. He reminded me that there was no better place than serving my husband. 
When we were done, aftercare turned in to something a bit more as I was allowed to please him in some of my favourite ways. As soon as he lowered his pants, revealing his big hard dick, I came. I didn’t even need his touch and my thighs were already drenched. His cock was plunged deeply down my throat as I gagged up thick spit that coated my face and tits. I kneeled as he face fucked me, not allowing me to let his cock fall out if my mouth. Good girls always finish the job. 

Trick .. or Treat?

I didn’t even plan to go out that night. School has been so busy I just wanted to curl up in bed with my vibrator and fall asleep early. But I had a costume and I wanted a drink. So I buckled my boots, tied my corset, grabbed a man and ran off to the local swinger’s bar.

I wasn’t looking for anything special on Saturday. I just needed to blow off some steam and, at most play around on the pole if some good music came on. It was just a fluke that, as I waited in line, I ran in to a couple. We exchanged a few words and (in classic Canadian tradition) I politely suggested that they could come say hi to me later.

They lasted less than 5 minutes before finding me on the couch. I was completely oblivious to what they were looking for so we sat there making more awkward small talk. The guy was tall with shoulder length hair tied up in a bun. She was small and quiet but you could feel her sexuality through every movement. I saw him lean over and whisper something to her, she got up obediently and walked over to my man. It seems she had been ordered to suck him off. Not to be outdone I started kissing this mysterious man. His kisses were not what I’m used to – they were rough and demanding. They were not the kisses of a man who was used to being told no. With one hand he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me closer, with the other he roughly spread my legs and started playing with my clit.

I felt my thighs get sticky and I suddenly needed his cock. I ached to feel it inside me but I knew I hadn’t earned it yet. I pushed him off me and dropped to my knees. I know my place – on the floor, looking up with a cock in my mouth. I’m at home there and I do my job well. I thrust him down my throat until I gagged up that thick, sticky spit all over my tits. I was losing myself now. I don’t even notice the growing audience. It’s becoming a blur of pleasure – his and mine. I watched as if from above as his eyes rolled back and his strong hands controlled my head, maneuvering it until he was so deep I was gagging. Suddenly, he pulled me off and thrust me towards the couch. He walked off.

I turned my attention to the man I had come with. Sprawled back on the couch with his eyes closed he was enjoying her attention as she licked every inch of his throbbing cock. Jealous, I took the opportunity to go to work on his neck with my tongue. He moaned in appreciation and grabbed my tits. I came instantly. “Good girl” he growled. I came again.

Mystery Man came back and threw a condom at me. I fumbled with it, managed to get it open and climbed on top. It felt like a reward after an excellent cock sucking and I fucked him hard. He grabbed my hips and forced me into a slow, hard rhythm, growling orders as we went. I breathed through clenched teeth as I tried to control my orgasms. He threw me off again and forced me on to my back. His hand went to my throat and I raised my legs high and spread wide. It was his turn to fuck me hard. He grabbed my legs together and my stripper boots knocked loudly as the steady beat brought me to climax. I was dripping now. Animalistic. I couldn’t control my screams. I just kept coming. Again and again. I was a mess on the couch. Then it was her turn. She started slowly, licking my throbbing pussy with her tongue. She slowly started to ramp up and before a few minutes, I was moaning again. Her tongue made me sopping wet. Spit and cum mixed as I came on her outstretched tongue.

But the first man got impatient. He turned me over and shoved his cock deep inside me doggy style. I rocked back and forth and, yet again, it took a man’s strong hand to slow my rhythm and calm me down. If I was going to cum again, it would be on his terms. He shoved my head down on to the couch and grabbed my hips, fucked me softly and allowed another orgasm before he got rough. Then he hurt me. He fucked me so hard, I felt barely human. I was a fuckhole – just like I like it. I lost all sense of time as he screwed me from behind next to the stranger who had been ramming me just moments before, in front of all those people. I couldn’t breath as I came again and again in to the couch cushions, he didn’t give a fuck. I was there for his pleasure. Nothing more. I didn’t think I could take any more and yet he continued. Harder and harder he pounded me until finally I felt his body tense. Then a shudder and a moan as he filled my pussy with his warm cum.

Good girl. One down, one more to go


Some like it hot…

Maybe you can’t dance by the fire forever. Maybe it’s just too hot to be close to for too long. Maybe as the weeks turn in to months and then fade in to years you have to admit to yourself that vibrant exposure to heat isn’t healthy. 
But maybe that’s ok. 

Moving through life with the person you love beside you is a privilege denied to many. There’s nothing that says the fire has to go out. I hope it never does. I’m just saying that sometimes you need to take a step back and enjoy something a bit less intense so that when you approach it again you can recognize what you have. 

A relationship can’t survive solely on sweat and bruises and cum (although it can’t survive completely devoid of those things either), a relationship needs quiet moments and Sunday cuddles and giant stuffed bunnies too. You need to have days when you look over at the person you’ve chosen while they push a grocery cart and think to yourself “this is it. For the rest of our lives. This is it” and you need to be ecstatic about it. 

It’s not what I usually write, I know. I’m all for the stolen moments and rock hard cocks shoved in to every available hole. I just don’t want to give the impression that’s all there is when there’s so much more. 

I know that I get readers from all stages of life and, I’ve said before, I am the queen of the relationship emotional roller coaster. So it needs to be said: there will be days and weeks and months when the love is stronger than the lust. There will be moments when intimacy is more important than the ball gag under the bed. That’s ok. You’re ok. Keep up the good work, enjoy the moments – all of them – and be open to new experiences. They will come. 

The First Time

I was frozen there, naked on my hands and knees, waiting for him to come back up the stairs. As the seconds dragged on it became more and more evident that this was a huge mistake.

I don’t do pain. I don’t like it. I have no tolerance for it and the thought of it scares me. I’m the last person you want to give state secrets to – I will sing like a canary at the first sign of trouble.

I think about the sexy man looking for the dreaded implement and sigh, just a bit. He has gorgeous eyes and a soft smile… but he also has strong arms and quick hands. He isn’t one to back down when it comes time to put me back in my place – when he gives me that look there’s no doubt of what’s in store for me.

I hide under the blankets.

“You’re not in position”

“I’m too scared…..”

“Why? Is it going to hurt?”

I nod

“A little or a lot?” He locks eyes with me

I drop mine. “a lot” I whimper

He kisses me on the forehead. “In position baby”

There will be no getting out of this one. I know I asked for it earlier. I begged him for it and took a full blown tantrum until he complied. Deep down I wanted it, the pain that I had fantasized about for so long. I just didn’t know if I was strong enough to handle it now that the time had finally come.

Deep breathes. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly I turned over and raised myself on to my knees again, presenting myself to him. I whimpered as I felt the cold slender rod. This was a bad idea. He rubbed it back and forth on my ass while I tried to stay still. “Ready?”  I wanted to scream no but my head nodded.

He pulled back.

Stars exploded in my vision as he made contact with my exposed flesh. I dropped off my knees and whimpered in pain. “Up” he commanded and I was on my knees again. A firm hand guided my back in to an arch as I presented myself to him again. To my amazement I not only wanted more, my body craved it. My thighs were sticky and my knees were shaking as I waited for him to cane me again.

This time I took three in quick succession before dropping down. It hurt so much but the pain ignited a fire in me that I cannot explain. I needed those firm hands. I needed his strength. I needed him to hurt me. It made me feel like the dirty little whore I was.

Slowly, he led me through my first real encounter with extreme pain. One of two strikes at a time he brought me to the verge of tears. And the verge of orgasm. In between he held me in his arms and ruffled my hair before telling me I could handle more… I’m not sure why I believed him.

Although I pleaded with my best puppy dog eyes, I was not permitted my release. “Not yet” he whispered, obviously I was not to be given any reprieve from my pain. My pussy was throbbing as I tried not to cum. The feeling of his hand on the small of my back sent shivers up my spine. I dripped on the bed unable to control my body’s reaction to his cane. I was his whore tonight. Just a filthy little slut with a wet hole and a soft ass begging to be hurt.

“Hit me” I begged him over and over again. I fell to my knees. I got back up. I fell again. I was comforted and guided back up. One strike at a time, his patience unbounding, I found my inner pain slut.

He pressed himself against me to steady me and told me we were almost done. I had been a very good girl, one more strike would do it. Do what? I’m not sure. If he was hoping to banish the brat for a little bit he was certainly on the right track. I relaxed and he pulled back again. It made contact. Hard. I screamed out as I fell on to my knees and my hands went right back to feel the swelling welt he had left but he already had somehow caught me in his arms.

“Shhh” he comforted me softly “you did so good baby girl. It’s done now”

And it was, almost. He guided me on to my back and spread my legs wide. I shook with pain and adrenaline. I had fantasized about this for so long and I had finally done it. The pain subsided in to pleasure as he coaxed me in a shaking mess on the bed. I came fast and hard until he had to pin me down to keep me from shaking. My ass, crushed underneath me, serving as the ultimate reminder.
I am his.