... but it could be !
I love the saturated colors
photos © DR
I love the saturated colors
photos © DR
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Gushing
During the second session of a leisurely masturbation morning in bed, with my Njoy plug, Pure wand & pinces, I reached orgasm, becoming aware of the squirting sensation. As I released, the juices flooded out, leaving my pussy sopping & a nice puddle on the sheets as proof. Just like Nina described it !
I'm sure that I'd done this before without realizing it, but since I'd read Nina's description on The Lazy Geisha, I was able to perceive it just when it was about to start. Mmmm, what an experience ! à recommencer ...
I'm sure that I'd done this before without realizing it, but since I'd read Nina's description on The Lazy Geisha, I was able to perceive it just when it was about to start. Mmmm, what an experience ! à recommencer ...
La Gironde
Mast'Her looks at Nawa-kin, admiring her from afar, saying "elle est gironde". When I ask what "gironde" means, he explains that it's un mot ancien, that it means even more than voluptuous, almost makes you want to bite into her ...
We're just out of hearing, yet she watches as he whispers to me : Vas la mordre... I look at her, seeing desire & hope in her eyes. I walk over to her & gently open her sheer red shirt on one side, revealing her voluptuous breast.
My lips open around her nipple as I gently cradle her breast, my tongue licking the fat nipple to arouse it, taking it into my mouth, sucking it, slightly biting & scissoring it with my teeth in alternance to the sucking. She gasps with surprise & pleasure as I continue, moving to her other breast, giving it the same attention, exciting her & somehow hoping she would come. Her pleasure is tangible as she gasps even louder. I stop & stand caressing & slightly pulling her nipples in both hands. Voluptuous sister !
Mast'Her tells us to continue at the far side of the room & she touches & sucks my breasts in return. Mmmmm.... she could even bite a bit harder ... Standing, caressing & sighing, all nipples in all hands, gently pulling & twisting. Billowing breasts pushed together, nipples touching.
We're just out of hearing, yet she watches as he whispers to me : Vas la mordre... I look at her, seeing desire & hope in her eyes. I walk over to her & gently open her sheer red shirt on one side, revealing her voluptuous breast.
My lips open around her nipple as I gently cradle her breast, my tongue licking the fat nipple to arouse it, taking it into my mouth, sucking it, slightly biting & scissoring it with my teeth in alternance to the sucking. She gasps with surprise & pleasure as I continue, moving to her other breast, giving it the same attention, exciting her & somehow hoping she would come. Her pleasure is tangible as she gasps even louder. I stop & stand caressing & slightly pulling her nipples in both hands. Voluptuous sister !
Mast'Her tells us to continue at the far side of the room & she touches & sucks my breasts in return. Mmmmm.... she could even bite a bit harder ... Standing, caressing & sighing, all nipples in all hands, gently pulling & twisting. Billowing breasts pushed together, nipples touching.
Motown & Martinet
Le Marquis-Noir offers me to Maître M. to be flogged by his twin martinets before a full audience.
:::
Leaning naked against the mirror, I shut my eyes.
A gust of wind enfolds me as whirling leather lashes begin to fall over my shoulders & back all down to my ass, warming me up. I smile in delight as the light strokes promise more.
The Motown tempo of the Supremes, the rhythmic lilting upbeat guiding the strokes pattering over me. Joy rises in me & I softly laugh.
Maitre M. lightly caressed my spine, asking me if I want more. I nod & we go onto the next level, slightly harder increasing onto another, with blows to the shoulders like Shiatsu. Noticing how his technique is different from what I've felt so far from Mast'Her.
I've got this burning, burning, yearning feeling inside me
Ooh, deep inside me and it hurts so bad
baby baby oooooOOOOooohhhhhh, baby baby
And I feel happy in the rush of wind & fire, exhilarated in this awareness, just loving it. And it's so much fun.
After one or two strong blows that make me gasp, the whirling stops. I bow to Maître M. thanking him, Namaste, then kneel at the feet of my Mast'Her to thank him for this wonderful gift.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
mardi gras
pour le Marquis-Noir
Lightning bolts or thunderbolts as you crack the whip next to me.
I'm in a storm of fire & wind, loving it as fiery kisses fall on my ass & over my back. I didn't know it would be like this — just how did I think it would be ? — that it would be this good...
Arms raised, hands on the back of my head... I don't know exactly how I'm reacting, just fingers in my hair in sensual bliss with the fiery kiss and the promise of ecstasy at the tip of the whip.
The first time, so gently. These fiery revelations leaving me breathless, teetering in my stilettos, my ankles trembling. Wow !
Earlier, your fingers stimulate me, the clamps on my labia so close to my clit, intensifying the excitement, the weights dangling, my body jerking in electric spasms.
I just didn't know that it would be so good.
Your fingers, your hand in a latex glove slathered with gel, inside me, probing & whirling so deep so good so intense so excited, about to jump out of my skin, so delighted...
Le baptême de feu : fiery kisses & whistling wind.
///
Coups de foudre ou coups de tonnère lorsque ton fouet claque à mes côtés.
Je suis dans un orage du feu et du vent, j'adore ces baisers du feu qui tombent sur mes fesses, sur mon dos. Je ne savais pas que ce sera comme ça —comment je l'avais imaginé au juste ? — que ce sera si bon.
Les bras levés, les mains sur ma tête... je ne sais pas exactement comment je réagis, juste des doigts dans mes cheveux, la joie sensuelle des baisers du feu et la promesse de l'extase au bout du fouet.
La toute première fois, fouettée si doucement. Ces révélations du feu me coupent le souffle, je vacille sur mes talons aiguilles, mes chevilles tremblent.
Plus tôt, vos doigts me stimulent, les pinces sur mon labia si près de mon clit, intensifiant l'excitation, les poids se balancent, mon corps sursaute dans des spasmes électriques. Je ne savais pas que ce sera si bon.
Tes doigts, ta main dans un gant de latex enduit avec du gel, à l'intérieur de moi, explorant et tourbillonnant si profondément si bon si intense si excitant que je pourrais sauter au plafond, si enchantée...
Le baptême de feu : des baisers ardents et le vent sifflant.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
pincement
Cette nuit j'ai rêvée
que j'ai découpé un pansement,
les bouts biseautés...
J'ai mis de la bombe de colle
et je l'ai collé sur mon plexus solaire.
*
pour le Marquis-Noir
que j'ai découpé un pansement,
les bouts biseautés...
J'ai mis de la bombe de colle
et je l'ai collé sur mon plexus solaire.
*
pour le Marquis-Noir
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
fiery kisses
Le Marquis-Noir orders me to stand against the cross, after first making me sit on the bench with the dildo. For the first time, I receive the martinet.
///
I stand against the cross, my head nestled in my arms. He starts to whip me lightly with the martinet when Ôda comes to get him as he's needed upstairs.
She takes over.
The first hard lash makes me say "Aïe !"
She replies : Comment ça, "aïe" ?
I had arrived late mostly after the fun was over, the tension from work still present in my mind. At the bar, she had asked me what mood I was in, if I wanted to play ... a man or a woman ? More in the mood for a man.
Mast'Her comes by & plays with me lightly, thinking he has some time for me, so we go to the back.
He puts a condom on the black dildo & attaches my wrists to the ceiling, orders me to sit on it, in my ass ... black intensity as I slide down, sitting on it not so comfortably as he lightly whips my tits.
I wriggle my wrists out of the straps, holding on to them instead — not rebellious, just disobedient. He sees that this scene isn't working for me, so we switch to the cross instead. He lifts up my skirt & I lean into my arms raised above my head.
Like I said : "Aïe" !
I shut my eyes, happy to receive... how strange now that it should be Ôda instead. Closing out the people gathered to watch. She whips, the tips of the martinet grazing me & I realize that it's the ones that barely strike that hurt the most.
She whips my pussy lightly. i wiggle a bit, as my feet hurt, so she allows me to take off my shoes.
I settle into my arms as I feel the different strokes & after awhile it's all tingly & warm.
Then the intensity increases, some heavy blows on my thighs & ass, then light touches over my back to my ass & my pussy.
I rock sensuously into the martinet as it strikes my pussy, some strands hitting my abdomen from below, hurting more than those on my pussy. The music briefly flows thru me as I delve into my awareness of every sound, every touch, where it hits, over & over.
A flurry of light fiery kisses & a gust of wind ... I suspect that this increase in intensity has been at the hand of my Mast'Her. Even though I'm curious, I don't turn around to look, only go into the feeling as I feel more peaceful & floating.
Until one strong blow on my thigh makes me react, leaving a trail of bruises over my hip at the crease of my thigh, as I ease the pain with my hand.
Ôda asks if I want to stop. "Peut-être, un peu, " I reply, but I could have stayed longer.
I thank her, kissing her on the cheek.
— Je me sens apaisée.
— Je crois que ça t'a fait du bien. Je le vois dans tes yeux. Tu es résistante.
Afterwards, I'm very inward & quiet, a light trembling under my skin like a light vibration that continues all thru dinner.
I wonder how it was for each of them.
///
I stand against the cross, my head nestled in my arms. He starts to whip me lightly with the martinet when Ôda comes to get him as he's needed upstairs.
She takes over.
The first hard lash makes me say "Aïe !"
She replies : Comment ça, "aïe" ?
I had arrived late mostly after the fun was over, the tension from work still present in my mind. At the bar, she had asked me what mood I was in, if I wanted to play ... a man or a woman ? More in the mood for a man.
Mast'Her comes by & plays with me lightly, thinking he has some time for me, so we go to the back.
He puts a condom on the black dildo & attaches my wrists to the ceiling, orders me to sit on it, in my ass ... black intensity as I slide down, sitting on it not so comfortably as he lightly whips my tits.
I wriggle my wrists out of the straps, holding on to them instead — not rebellious, just disobedient. He sees that this scene isn't working for me, so we switch to the cross instead. He lifts up my skirt & I lean into my arms raised above my head.
Like I said : "Aïe" !
I shut my eyes, happy to receive... how strange now that it should be Ôda instead. Closing out the people gathered to watch. She whips, the tips of the martinet grazing me & I realize that it's the ones that barely strike that hurt the most.
She whips my pussy lightly. i wiggle a bit, as my feet hurt, so she allows me to take off my shoes.
I settle into my arms as I feel the different strokes & after awhile it's all tingly & warm.
Then the intensity increases, some heavy blows on my thighs & ass, then light touches over my back to my ass & my pussy.
I rock sensuously into the martinet as it strikes my pussy, some strands hitting my abdomen from below, hurting more than those on my pussy. The music briefly flows thru me as I delve into my awareness of every sound, every touch, where it hits, over & over.
A flurry of light fiery kisses & a gust of wind ... I suspect that this increase in intensity has been at the hand of my Mast'Her. Even though I'm curious, I don't turn around to look, only go into the feeling as I feel more peaceful & floating.
Until one strong blow on my thigh makes me react, leaving a trail of bruises over my hip at the crease of my thigh, as I ease the pain with my hand.
Ôda asks if I want to stop. "Peut-être, un peu, " I reply, but I could have stayed longer.
I thank her, kissing her on the cheek.
— Je me sens apaisée.
— Je crois que ça t'a fait du bien. Je le vois dans tes yeux. Tu es résistante.
Afterwards, I'm very inward & quiet, a light trembling under my skin like a light vibration that continues all thru dinner.
I wonder how it was for each of them.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
consciousness
Sometimes I think that I'm less spiritual than when I was younger, but perhaps it's because I've been exploring my darker side. Sometimes I think about contacting my guide — but my guide is always present, & I think my guide is very much like me. Perhaps my guide is me.
I believe in consciousness & light — intelligent consciousness & the energy of light. If I transcend the body, then what is this consciousness inside ?
When I think of the fabric of the universe from the infinitely small to the infinitely grand, I know that this consciousness is never lost. The matter & energy may be transformed & evolved, but it doesn't disappear.
When I think of human intelligence, of all the amazing things we have created , from the first person who sprayed their hand on a cave, to whoever first cooked an egg, to all the civilizations & beauty, to the fantastic technology in which we live, I know that this consciousness never dies.
If only those who focus on destruction & killing, if only this energy was turned around, just think of the wondrous life we would have.
I believe in consciousness & light — intelligent consciousness & the energy of light. If I transcend the body, then what is this consciousness inside ?
When I think of the fabric of the universe from the infinitely small to the infinitely grand, I know that this consciousness is never lost. The matter & energy may be transformed & evolved, but it doesn't disappear.
When I think of human intelligence, of all the amazing things we have created , from the first person who sprayed their hand on a cave, to whoever first cooked an egg, to all the civilizations & beauty, to the fantastic technology in which we live, I know that this consciousness never dies.
If only those who focus on destruction & killing, if only this energy was turned around, just think of the wondrous life we would have.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
A mean muthafuka - VF
Le Marquis-Noir m'ordonne de m'offrir à un jeune homme après que je le flagelle.
///
Quand il est entré dans le club portant son T-shirt noir, j'ai pensé : "ce mec ne sait rien". Des flashes d'alarmes psychiques clignotaient autour de lui et je voyais la vibration d'une aura blanche m'avertissant.
Il est nerveux caché sous son masque et il fait l'erreur de toucher les poids sur la chaîne que tu m'as mis entre mes lèvres labiales. "C'est lourd?" il me demande, et tu viens me protéger, lui disant qu'il doit demander d'abord avant de toucher.
Cependant, tu le provoques plus tard, me disant de m'asseoir en ouvrante encore plus mes cuisses puisqu'il veut regarder, assis devant de moi. Je ne le regardes pas, je m'en fous de lui derrière son masque.
Pendant ce goûter, tu m'as demandé demandé de switcher, et j'ai déjà flagellé deux hommes et une femme quand ce jeune homme demande ta permission d'être flagellé aussi. C'est-à-dire, il me le demande au moment où je remets le martinet de nouveau à Ôda, et nous lui disons tous les deux qu'il doit te demander. Je suis surprise que tu l'accordes.
Je prends les deux martinets et je l'emmène à l'étage. Tu arrives rapidement et tu t'assois dans le fauteuil au coin pour nous observer. Il descende de son pantalon un peu, mais je lui dis de le laisser tomber à ses chevilles. Tu l'encourages. Et je commence à le fouetter, visant au mieux, te regardant dans notre complicité amusée. Sa main se déplace vers sa bite pour la caresser, mais je lui dis qu'il n'a pas le droit de se toucher et j'y vais vérifier à ta commande.
"T'as vu comment il bande ? Tu vas lui vider les couilles plus tard", tu me dis. Je le caresse uniquement pour te plaire.
Enfin tu décides qu'il devrait me sodomiser. Je n'ai absolument aucun désir, mais je t' obéis néanmoins. Je place les martinets sur l'étagère, et je te suis dans la chambre.
Je me tiens à tes côtés quand il entre, et ses mains attrapent les bouts de mes seins pour les pincer d'une façon vraiment dure et qui fait très mal, et je lui dis d'arrêter, en repoussant ses mains. Tu le fais rappeler d'être plus doux dans son approche à mes tétons sensibles.
Il laisse tomber un peu son pantalon et je lui dis de les enlever, il se déshabille complètement excepté peut-être ses chaussettes (je le déteste quand les hommes gardent leurs chaussettes !).
Tu me commandes de me mettre à 4 pattes, et je m'agenouille sur le lit pendant que tu lui donnes un capote. Quelqu'un met du gel sur mon anus — il commence à me pénétrer et je demande encore plus du gel. Je pense à Monsieur Os, à son énorme queue .
Il plonge dans moi et sa main frappe durement sur mon flanc, détournant la douleur de la pénétration vers ma cuisse. ça me fait mal, comme il frappe fois et j'entre dans cet espace d'ombre à l'intérieur de moi, toutes les pensées et les sentiments embrouillés, mon cerveau se concentre sur mes fesses, sa main, ta présence, et surtout mes émotions. Je suis à plat ventre, mon visage niché dans mes bras cachée sous mes cheveux. Je pleure, non, non... pendant qu'il continue à frapper. Ses mains tentent de pincer mes tétons, mais je les repousse.
Tu es allongé sur le lit à ma droite et je te dis "Il est méchant". Un enfoiré méchant.
Il cesse de me frapper, je ne sais pas si tu lui à fait signe ou bien s'il a entendu ce que j'ai dit.
Je me sens en colère et triste, fâché contre lui parce qu'il est un enfoiré méchant, fâché contre toi qui m'as offert à lui, triste pour moi-même.
Je tourne mon désir vers toi pendant qu'il continue à m'enculer. Le corps sent l'excitation physique même lorsque l'esprit a des émotions contradictoires. Ainsi je tourne mon énergie vers toi.
"Salope" tu me dis, "you bad girl".
"Yes, I'm a bad girl", je réponds en souriant car tu sais faire le déclic, et maintenant ce que je fais est complètement pour te plaire.
Je caresse ma chatte pour faire monter le plaisir, ma chair douce,humide et gonflée, mais mes doigts semblent éloignés ainsi je demande les tiens. ("please"... tu me rappelles). Je me léve, je me colle contre toi, embrassant ton cou pendant que tes doigts me stimulent et l'électricité me fait sauter et cambrer.
Et alors tu décides qu'il devrait jouir sur mes seins. Je m'assieds ou me tiens devant lui, mes mains soulèvent et offrent mes seins. Il retire la capote, il se branle — ton bras est autour de ma taille, je crois— et je regarde le plafond, les yeux fermés, pas envie de l'observer, alors que son foutre s'éclate sur ma poitrine. La chaleur est agréable, mais je ne veux pas sentir son sperme. Il a fini de jouir et il prend un kleenex. Je lui demande "beaucoup de kleenex" tandis qu'il me donne un seul. Tu répètes : elle a dit "beaucoup" ! Il m'en donne une poignée et je m'essuie au mieux avant d'aller au lavabo.
Il me suit, se tenant impatiemment de l'autre côté du rideau, me demandant une serviette. A l'évier, je rinçe ma poitrine de son sperme. Je lui demande, "Au début, il y a eu des coups, mais je ne savais pas si c'était toi ou lui".
"C'était lui", il ment et nous le savons tous les deux. Cependant, comme c'était si désagréable pour moi, je suis dans un étrange moment de doute.
Le jour suivant, un bleu noir la taille d'un pouce est curieusement placée sur l'avant de ma cuisse.
///
Quand il est entré dans le club portant son T-shirt noir, j'ai pensé : "ce mec ne sait rien". Des flashes d'alarmes psychiques clignotaient autour de lui et je voyais la vibration d'une aura blanche m'avertissant.
Il est nerveux caché sous son masque et il fait l'erreur de toucher les poids sur la chaîne que tu m'as mis entre mes lèvres labiales. "C'est lourd?" il me demande, et tu viens me protéger, lui disant qu'il doit demander d'abord avant de toucher.
Cependant, tu le provoques plus tard, me disant de m'asseoir en ouvrante encore plus mes cuisses puisqu'il veut regarder, assis devant de moi. Je ne le regardes pas, je m'en fous de lui derrière son masque.
Pendant ce goûter, tu m'as demandé demandé de switcher, et j'ai déjà flagellé deux hommes et une femme quand ce jeune homme demande ta permission d'être flagellé aussi. C'est-à-dire, il me le demande au moment où je remets le martinet de nouveau à Ôda, et nous lui disons tous les deux qu'il doit te demander. Je suis surprise que tu l'accordes.
Je prends les deux martinets et je l'emmène à l'étage. Tu arrives rapidement et tu t'assois dans le fauteuil au coin pour nous observer. Il descende de son pantalon un peu, mais je lui dis de le laisser tomber à ses chevilles. Tu l'encourages. Et je commence à le fouetter, visant au mieux, te regardant dans notre complicité amusée. Sa main se déplace vers sa bite pour la caresser, mais je lui dis qu'il n'a pas le droit de se toucher et j'y vais vérifier à ta commande.
"T'as vu comment il bande ? Tu vas lui vider les couilles plus tard", tu me dis. Je le caresse uniquement pour te plaire.
Enfin tu décides qu'il devrait me sodomiser. Je n'ai absolument aucun désir, mais je t' obéis néanmoins. Je place les martinets sur l'étagère, et je te suis dans la chambre.
Je me tiens à tes côtés quand il entre, et ses mains attrapent les bouts de mes seins pour les pincer d'une façon vraiment dure et qui fait très mal, et je lui dis d'arrêter, en repoussant ses mains. Tu le fais rappeler d'être plus doux dans son approche à mes tétons sensibles.
Il laisse tomber un peu son pantalon et je lui dis de les enlever, il se déshabille complètement excepté peut-être ses chaussettes (je le déteste quand les hommes gardent leurs chaussettes !).
Tu me commandes de me mettre à 4 pattes, et je m'agenouille sur le lit pendant que tu lui donnes un capote. Quelqu'un met du gel sur mon anus — il commence à me pénétrer et je demande encore plus du gel. Je pense à Monsieur Os, à son énorme queue .
Il plonge dans moi et sa main frappe durement sur mon flanc, détournant la douleur de la pénétration vers ma cuisse. ça me fait mal, comme il frappe fois et j'entre dans cet espace d'ombre à l'intérieur de moi, toutes les pensées et les sentiments embrouillés, mon cerveau se concentre sur mes fesses, sa main, ta présence, et surtout mes émotions. Je suis à plat ventre, mon visage niché dans mes bras cachée sous mes cheveux. Je pleure, non, non... pendant qu'il continue à frapper. Ses mains tentent de pincer mes tétons, mais je les repousse.
Tu es allongé sur le lit à ma droite et je te dis "Il est méchant". Un enfoiré méchant.
Il cesse de me frapper, je ne sais pas si tu lui à fait signe ou bien s'il a entendu ce que j'ai dit.
Je me sens en colère et triste, fâché contre lui parce qu'il est un enfoiré méchant, fâché contre toi qui m'as offert à lui, triste pour moi-même.
Je tourne mon désir vers toi pendant qu'il continue à m'enculer. Le corps sent l'excitation physique même lorsque l'esprit a des émotions contradictoires. Ainsi je tourne mon énergie vers toi.
"Salope" tu me dis, "you bad girl".
"Yes, I'm a bad girl", je réponds en souriant car tu sais faire le déclic, et maintenant ce que je fais est complètement pour te plaire.
Je caresse ma chatte pour faire monter le plaisir, ma chair douce,humide et gonflée, mais mes doigts semblent éloignés ainsi je demande les tiens. ("please"... tu me rappelles). Je me léve, je me colle contre toi, embrassant ton cou pendant que tes doigts me stimulent et l'électricité me fait sauter et cambrer.
Et alors tu décides qu'il devrait jouir sur mes seins. Je m'assieds ou me tiens devant lui, mes mains soulèvent et offrent mes seins. Il retire la capote, il se branle — ton bras est autour de ma taille, je crois— et je regarde le plafond, les yeux fermés, pas envie de l'observer, alors que son foutre s'éclate sur ma poitrine. La chaleur est agréable, mais je ne veux pas sentir son sperme. Il a fini de jouir et il prend un kleenex. Je lui demande "beaucoup de kleenex" tandis qu'il me donne un seul. Tu répètes : elle a dit "beaucoup" ! Il m'en donne une poignée et je m'essuie au mieux avant d'aller au lavabo.
Il me suit, se tenant impatiemment de l'autre côté du rideau, me demandant une serviette. A l'évier, je rinçe ma poitrine de son sperme. Je lui demande, "Au début, il y a eu des coups, mais je ne savais pas si c'était toi ou lui".
"C'était lui", il ment et nous le savons tous les deux. Cependant, comme c'était si désagréable pour moi, je suis dans un étrange moment de doute.
Le jour suivant, un bleu noir la taille d'un pouce est curieusement placée sur l'avant de ma cuisse.
A mean muthafuka
The Marquis-Noir orders me to offer myself to a young man after I flog him.
///
When I saw him come in the club wearing his black T-shirt, I thought : "this guy's clueless". Psychic alarms flashed around him as I see a white aura vibrating, warning me.
He's nervous behind his mask & he makes the mistake of touching the weights on the chain that you've clamped between my labial lips. "C'est lourd ?" he asks, as you run over to protect me, telling him that he needs to ask first.
Yet, you tantalize him later, telling me to sit with my legs spread open even wider since he wants to look, sitting across from me. I don't meet his eyes, I don't care about him behind his mask.
During this goûter, you've asked me to switch, and i've already flogged two men and a woman when this young man asks your permission to be flogged too. That is, he asks me when I'm handing the martinet back to Ôda, and we both tell him he has to ask you. To my surprise, you agree.
I take the two martinets & take him upstairs. You quickly appear & sit in a corner chair to watch. He slides down his pants slightly, but I tell him to drop them to his ankles. You encourage him. And I begin to whip, aiming as best I can, only looking at you in our amused complicity. His hand goes to stroke his cock, but I tell him that he doesn't have the right to touch himself & go over to check when you tell me to.
"T'as vu comment il bande ? Tu vas lui vider les couilles plus tard" you say. I stroke him only for your benefit.
Finally you decide that he should sodomize me. I have absolutely no desire, but I obey you nevertheless. I place the martinets on the shelf, and follow you into the bedroom.
He comes into the room as I stand with you, his hands reach out to directly pinch my tits really hard in a hurtful way, & I tell him to stop, pushing his hands away. You remind him to be more gentle in his approch to my sensitive nipples.
He drops his pants down slightly & I tell him to take them off, so he completely undresses except perhaps his socks (I hate it when men keep their socks on !).
You order me to position myself à 4 pattes, & I kneel on the bed as you give him a rubber. Someone puts gel on my ass — he begins to penetrate me & I ask for more. I think of Monsieur Os, of his huge cock.
He plunges into me & his hand strikes me hard on my flank, deflecting the pain from the penetration to my thigh. It hurts, as he strikes several times & I go into that dark space inside me, all thoughts & feelings jumbled as my brain focusses on my ass, his hand, your presence, and especially my emotions. I'm face down, nestled in my arms beneath my hair. I cry out, no, no ... as he continues to hit. His hands reach forward to pinch my tits, but I swat them away.
You're lying on the bed to my right & I tell you "Il est méchant." A mean muthafuka.
He stops hitting me, I don't know if you've told him or if he's heard what I said.
I feel angry & sad, angry at him for being a mean muthafuka, angry at you for offering me to him, sad for myself.
I turn my desire towards you as he continues to pump into me. The body feels the physical excitement even when the mind has conflicting emotions. So I turn my energy towards you.
"Salope" you say, "you bad girl".
"Yes, I'm a bad girl", I reply & smile because you know how to make that click for me, & now I'm totally doing this only for your benefit.
I stroke my pussy to help the pleasure mount, swollen, soft wet flesh, but my fingers seem distant so I ask for yours. ("Please"... you remind me). I lean up, clinging to you, kissing your neck as your fingers stimulate me & the electricity makes me twitch & arch.
And then you decide that he should come on my tits. I sit or stand before him, my hands lift & offer my breasts. He pulls off the rubber, jerking off —your arm is around my waist, I think— I look up at the ceiling, closing my eyes, don't wanna watch him, then the warm jets splat over my chest. The warmth is pleasurable, but I don't want to smell his sperm. He's done & reaches for a kleenex. I ask for "beaucoup de kleenex" as he gives me one. You repeat : elle a dit "beaucoup" ! He hands me a bunch & I wipe myself as best I can before going to the sink.
He follows me, impatiently standing outside the curtain, asking for a towel. I'm at the sink, rinsing off his sperm. I ask him, "Au début, il y a eu des coups, mais je ne savais pas si c'était toi ou lui".
"C'était lui", he lies & we both know it. Yet, because it was so unpleasant for me, I'm in a strange moment of doubt.
The next day, a black bruise the size of a thumb is oddly placed on the front of my thigh.
///
When I saw him come in the club wearing his black T-shirt, I thought : "this guy's clueless". Psychic alarms flashed around him as I see a white aura vibrating, warning me.
He's nervous behind his mask & he makes the mistake of touching the weights on the chain that you've clamped between my labial lips. "C'est lourd ?" he asks, as you run over to protect me, telling him that he needs to ask first.
Yet, you tantalize him later, telling me to sit with my legs spread open even wider since he wants to look, sitting across from me. I don't meet his eyes, I don't care about him behind his mask.
During this goûter, you've asked me to switch, and i've already flogged two men and a woman when this young man asks your permission to be flogged too. That is, he asks me when I'm handing the martinet back to Ôda, and we both tell him he has to ask you. To my surprise, you agree.
I take the two martinets & take him upstairs. You quickly appear & sit in a corner chair to watch. He slides down his pants slightly, but I tell him to drop them to his ankles. You encourage him. And I begin to whip, aiming as best I can, only looking at you in our amused complicity. His hand goes to stroke his cock, but I tell him that he doesn't have the right to touch himself & go over to check when you tell me to.
"T'as vu comment il bande ? Tu vas lui vider les couilles plus tard" you say. I stroke him only for your benefit.
Finally you decide that he should sodomize me. I have absolutely no desire, but I obey you nevertheless. I place the martinets on the shelf, and follow you into the bedroom.
He comes into the room as I stand with you, his hands reach out to directly pinch my tits really hard in a hurtful way, & I tell him to stop, pushing his hands away. You remind him to be more gentle in his approch to my sensitive nipples.
He drops his pants down slightly & I tell him to take them off, so he completely undresses except perhaps his socks (I hate it when men keep their socks on !).
You order me to position myself à 4 pattes, & I kneel on the bed as you give him a rubber. Someone puts gel on my ass — he begins to penetrate me & I ask for more. I think of Monsieur Os, of his huge cock.
He plunges into me & his hand strikes me hard on my flank, deflecting the pain from the penetration to my thigh. It hurts, as he strikes several times & I go into that dark space inside me, all thoughts & feelings jumbled as my brain focusses on my ass, his hand, your presence, and especially my emotions. I'm face down, nestled in my arms beneath my hair. I cry out, no, no ... as he continues to hit. His hands reach forward to pinch my tits, but I swat them away.
You're lying on the bed to my right & I tell you "Il est méchant." A mean muthafuka.
He stops hitting me, I don't know if you've told him or if he's heard what I said.
I feel angry & sad, angry at him for being a mean muthafuka, angry at you for offering me to him, sad for myself.
I turn my desire towards you as he continues to pump into me. The body feels the physical excitement even when the mind has conflicting emotions. So I turn my energy towards you.
"Salope" you say, "you bad girl".
"Yes, I'm a bad girl", I reply & smile because you know how to make that click for me, & now I'm totally doing this only for your benefit.
I stroke my pussy to help the pleasure mount, swollen, soft wet flesh, but my fingers seem distant so I ask for yours. ("Please"... you remind me). I lean up, clinging to you, kissing your neck as your fingers stimulate me & the electricity makes me twitch & arch.
And then you decide that he should come on my tits. I sit or stand before him, my hands lift & offer my breasts. He pulls off the rubber, jerking off —your arm is around my waist, I think— I look up at the ceiling, closing my eyes, don't wanna watch him, then the warm jets splat over my chest. The warmth is pleasurable, but I don't want to smell his sperm. He's done & reaches for a kleenex. I ask for "beaucoup de kleenex" as he gives me one. You repeat : elle a dit "beaucoup" ! He hands me a bunch & I wipe myself as best I can before going to the sink.
He follows me, impatiently standing outside the curtain, asking for a towel. I'm at the sink, rinsing off his sperm. I ask him, "Au début, il y a eu des coups, mais je ne savais pas si c'était toi ou lui".
"C'était lui", he lies & we both know it. Yet, because it was so unpleasant for me, I'm in a strange moment of doubt.
The next day, a black bruise the size of a thumb is oddly placed on the front of my thigh.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Délicieuse morsure
Le Marquis Noir orders me to stand in front of Nawa-Kin, holding her hands while he whips her.
///
"Délicieuse morsure," she whispers, eyes closed, as the first lick of the whip touches her flesh, knowing how far this voyage will take her.
She holds my hands, my fingers so tightly that I don't know if my palms are sweaty or if it's hers ... all fingers so slippery, and yet so intensely held.
I'm fascinated by the whip & I wish the music was off so I could hear the whistle of the invisible whip thru the air & the sound of its lash on naked flesh. I'm fascinated, longing for it to be mine, yet wincing with every blow.
All elements : water, earth, wind & fire ...
At first, like loving caresses all over her back and buttocks. The first harsh lash ripples thru her & I see the vibrations mount, the pain reverberating, like an electric current moving thru her arms into mine. I'm struck by her absolute sensuality & desire. We are sisters in this moment.
I look over her shoulder to watch our Master expertly whip — the exactitude of his aim, the exquisite mastery of his touch, his graceful agility.
I watch him over her shoulder, or in the mirror, seeing how he spins the tail & cringing with every blow.
He sees my look & a smile crosses his face as he shakes his head in slight amusement at my fears.
Throwing one smack in between her shoulder blades, another in a lasso twirl licking the same spot over & over. I watch & I feel the invisible strikes, and cringe with Nawa-Kin on the particularly harsh ones, moaning aloud.
Her arms reach back in supplication & I take them back to her breasts. I want to console her, to hold her & I brace her as she leans more heavily towards me. Her hands move towards her tears & I caress them away, softly caressing her face.
When she can take no more, she turns towards him in supplication & the whip is stilled.
"Je travaille la colère de ma mère", she confesses... and then he's there, holding her in his arms as she tearfully says "merci". He kisses her, consoles her — she's still holding my hand — and he includes me in the embrace, then tells me to get some ice-cubes to rub on her body.
She kneels against a chair, and I slide the ice over the welts and the lacerations. The heat melts the ice quickly. I wonder how it would feel then to sleep, or to take a shower with the burning sensation all over the back.
"How long do the marks last ?", I ask her.
"2-3 weeks, depending."
I think I would need to be consoled for a very long time, to be in a quiet space to come down from the endormorphins. A quiet dark space, like after a massage — after this very different massage, whiplashed.
///
"Délicieuse morsure," she whispers, eyes closed, as the first lick of the whip touches her flesh, knowing how far this voyage will take her.
She holds my hands, my fingers so tightly that I don't know if my palms are sweaty or if it's hers ... all fingers so slippery, and yet so intensely held.
I'm fascinated by the whip & I wish the music was off so I could hear the whistle of the invisible whip thru the air & the sound of its lash on naked flesh. I'm fascinated, longing for it to be mine, yet wincing with every blow.
All elements : water, earth, wind & fire ...
At first, like loving caresses all over her back and buttocks. The first harsh lash ripples thru her & I see the vibrations mount, the pain reverberating, like an electric current moving thru her arms into mine. I'm struck by her absolute sensuality & desire. We are sisters in this moment.
I look over her shoulder to watch our Master expertly whip — the exactitude of his aim, the exquisite mastery of his touch, his graceful agility.
I watch him over her shoulder, or in the mirror, seeing how he spins the tail & cringing with every blow.
He sees my look & a smile crosses his face as he shakes his head in slight amusement at my fears.
Throwing one smack in between her shoulder blades, another in a lasso twirl licking the same spot over & over. I watch & I feel the invisible strikes, and cringe with Nawa-Kin on the particularly harsh ones, moaning aloud.
Her arms reach back in supplication & I take them back to her breasts. I want to console her, to hold her & I brace her as she leans more heavily towards me. Her hands move towards her tears & I caress them away, softly caressing her face.
When she can take no more, she turns towards him in supplication & the whip is stilled.
"Je travaille la colère de ma mère", she confesses... and then he's there, holding her in his arms as she tearfully says "merci". He kisses her, consoles her — she's still holding my hand — and he includes me in the embrace, then tells me to get some ice-cubes to rub on her body.
She kneels against a chair, and I slide the ice over the welts and the lacerations. The heat melts the ice quickly. I wonder how it would feel then to sleep, or to take a shower with the burning sensation all over the back.
"How long do the marks last ?", I ask her.
"2-3 weeks, depending."
I think I would need to be consoled for a very long time, to be in a quiet space to come down from the endormorphins. A quiet dark space, like after a massage — after this very different massage, whiplashed.
Délicieuse morsure - VF
Le Marquis-Noir m'ordonne de me placer face à Nawa-Kin, pour tenir ses mains tandis qu'il la fouette.
///
"Délicieuse morsure," elle murmure, les yeux fermés, lorsque le fouet lèche sa chair à la première touche, sachant jusqu'où ce voyage l'emmènera.
Elle me serre les mains, les doigts si fort que je ne sais pas si ce sont mes paumes qui transpirent ou bien si ce
sont les siennes ... nos doigts si glissants, et pourtant si intensément tenus.
Je suis fasciné par le fouet et je souhaite que la musique s'arrête pour que je puisse entendre le sifflement invisible du fouet dans l'air et le son de sa lanière sur la chair nue. Je suis fasciné, envie qu'il soit mien, grimaçante avec chaque coup.
Tous les éléments : l'eau, la terre, l'air et le feu...
Au début, comme des caresses aimantes partout sur son dos et sur ses fesses. Le premier coup de fouet dur ondule à travers elle et je vois les vibrations monter, la réverbération de la douleur, comme un courant électrique qui traverse de ses bras aux miens. Je suis frappé par sa sensualité et par son désir absolues. Nous sommes des sœurs dans ce moment.
Je regarde sur son épaule pour voir notre Maître la fouetter avec expertise - l'exactitude de son objectif, la maîtrise exquise de sa touche, son agilité gracieuse.
Je l'observe sur son épaule, ou dans le miroir, voyant comment il fait tourner la queue et je recule avec chaque coup. En voyant mon expression, un sourire traverse son visage et il hoche sa tête, légerement amusé par mes craintes.
Il en jette un droit au milieu ses omoplates, un autre tel un lasso qui lèche la même endroit encore et encore. J'observe et je sens ces coups invisibles et je recule avec Nawa-Kin aux plus sévères, gémissant.
Ses bras le supplient d'un geste en arrière — je les ramène de nouveau à ses seins. Je veux la consoler, la tenir et je la soutiens tandis qu'elle s'appuie de plus en plus lourdement sur moi. Ses mains se déplacent vers ses larmes et je les essuie, caressant doucement son visage. Quand elle n'en peut plus, elle se tourne vers lui en supplication et le fouet s'arrête.
"Je travaille la colère de ma mère", elle avoue ... et puis il est là, la tenant dans ses bras tandis qu'elle lui dit "merci", les larmes aux yeux. Il l'embrasse, la console —elle me tient toujours la main— et il m'embrasse aussi, me disant d'aller chercher des glaçons pour les frotter sur son corps.
Elle s'agenouille contre une chaise et je glisse les glaçons sur les zébrures et les lacérations. La chaleur fait fondre la glace rapidement. Je me demande comment il sera de s'en dormir, ou de prendre une douche avec cette sensation brûlante sur tout le dos.
"Combien de temps dureront les marques ?", je lui demande.
"2-3 semaines, selon."
Je pense que j'aurais besoin d'être consolée longtemps, de me retrouver dans un espace calme pour la descente des endormorphins. Un espace calme dans la pénombre, comme après un massage — après ce massage si différent, whiplashed.
///
"Délicieuse morsure," elle murmure, les yeux fermés, lorsque le fouet lèche sa chair à la première touche, sachant jusqu'où ce voyage l'emmènera.
Elle me serre les mains, les doigts si fort que je ne sais pas si ce sont mes paumes qui transpirent ou bien si ce
sont les siennes ... nos doigts si glissants, et pourtant si intensément tenus.
Je suis fasciné par le fouet et je souhaite que la musique s'arrête pour que je puisse entendre le sifflement invisible du fouet dans l'air et le son de sa lanière sur la chair nue. Je suis fasciné, envie qu'il soit mien, grimaçante avec chaque coup.
Tous les éléments : l'eau, la terre, l'air et le feu...
Au début, comme des caresses aimantes partout sur son dos et sur ses fesses. Le premier coup de fouet dur ondule à travers elle et je vois les vibrations monter, la réverbération de la douleur, comme un courant électrique qui traverse de ses bras aux miens. Je suis frappé par sa sensualité et par son désir absolues. Nous sommes des sœurs dans ce moment.
Je regarde sur son épaule pour voir notre Maître la fouetter avec expertise - l'exactitude de son objectif, la maîtrise exquise de sa touche, son agilité gracieuse.
Je l'observe sur son épaule, ou dans le miroir, voyant comment il fait tourner la queue et je recule avec chaque coup. En voyant mon expression, un sourire traverse son visage et il hoche sa tête, légerement amusé par mes craintes.
Il en jette un droit au milieu ses omoplates, un autre tel un lasso qui lèche la même endroit encore et encore. J'observe et je sens ces coups invisibles et je recule avec Nawa-Kin aux plus sévères, gémissant.
Ses bras le supplient d'un geste en arrière — je les ramène de nouveau à ses seins. Je veux la consoler, la tenir et je la soutiens tandis qu'elle s'appuie de plus en plus lourdement sur moi. Ses mains se déplacent vers ses larmes et je les essuie, caressant doucement son visage. Quand elle n'en peut plus, elle se tourne vers lui en supplication et le fouet s'arrête.
"Je travaille la colère de ma mère", elle avoue ... et puis il est là, la tenant dans ses bras tandis qu'elle lui dit "merci", les larmes aux yeux. Il l'embrasse, la console —elle me tient toujours la main— et il m'embrasse aussi, me disant d'aller chercher des glaçons pour les frotter sur son corps.
Elle s'agenouille contre une chaise et je glisse les glaçons sur les zébrures et les lacérations. La chaleur fait fondre la glace rapidement. Je me demande comment il sera de s'en dormir, ou de prendre une douche avec cette sensation brûlante sur tout le dos.
"Combien de temps dureront les marques ?", je lui demande.
"2-3 semaines, selon."
Je pense que j'aurais besoin d'être consolée longtemps, de me retrouver dans un espace calme pour la descente des endormorphins. Un espace calme dans la pénombre, comme après un massage — après ce massage si différent, whiplashed.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Nawakin and Nobodia
The Marquis Noir orders me to watch the sculptural Nobodia dominate Nawakin, saying that soon it would be happenning to me.
///
I stand against the black & white tiled wall to watch this black and white spectacle. A young man is next to me, observing.
She takes the corset off Nawakin, allowing full access to her abundant breasts, leaning her against the table as she clamps her tits.
The young man crouches down to delicately touch my breast with his fingers, gently surrounding my tit with his mouth. He's like a cameleon. "Harder", I whisper, as he nibbles & bites & sucks in the most delicious way.
Nawakin gasps as the first drop of wax is spilled on her tit. She looks directly into the eyes of her Mistress as Nobodia continues to drip the hot wax.
The sensual luminosity of her blonde hair & white skin, her red lips gasping as waves of pleasure begin to take her off on her voyage. My gasps mix with hers as my cameleon exquisitely sucks & bites my nipples.
My eyes caress the darker skin of Nobodia, her voluminous breasts bound in white rope, like a brassière. Nawakin, la bondageuse folle !
Her tits are now wax sculptures, the clamped tips encrusted by the wax. Her head falls backwards in pleasure, her eyes closed, the black stripe of her eyeshadow glistening against the white... everything is black & white with a touch of ruby red !
She leans down to kiss the breast of Nobodia, smearing the red all over her lips, now coming back up revealing a pinker shade of lipstick smeared across her mouth.
Nobodia begins to massage Nawakin, kneading her breasts in forward movements until the wax sculpture pops the clamps off in a perfect mold. Then, leaning into her, their billowing breasts communing as their firm tits touch and softness flows around, yet firm, feminine flesh.
I remember the taste of Nobodia's pussy last week when the Marquis-Noir ordered me to pleasure her at the same table, kneeling on the steps, my mouth firmly on her pussy licking her clit, my right hand spreading her open as my left arm encircled her thigh, my hand stretching up to caress her tit, as an unseen hand caressed my pussy and my wetness smeared down my thighs.
I'm wet now, and my thighs slide against each other avec la mouille, and my latex mini clings even tighter to my perspiring skin.
Nawakin now kneels on a small chair, her black skirt lifted to reveal the lunar surface of her bottom, as Nobodia cups her hand to spank her with very precise whacks followed by caresses. Her bottom reddens, Nobodia takes the badine, lightly touching the inside of her thighs when Ptitdoudou comes in to tell us that it's closing time. Just when it was getting interesting !
And we're all disappointed.
///
I stand against the black & white tiled wall to watch this black and white spectacle. A young man is next to me, observing.
She takes the corset off Nawakin, allowing full access to her abundant breasts, leaning her against the table as she clamps her tits.
The young man crouches down to delicately touch my breast with his fingers, gently surrounding my tit with his mouth. He's like a cameleon. "Harder", I whisper, as he nibbles & bites & sucks in the most delicious way.
Nawakin gasps as the first drop of wax is spilled on her tit. She looks directly into the eyes of her Mistress as Nobodia continues to drip the hot wax.
The sensual luminosity of her blonde hair & white skin, her red lips gasping as waves of pleasure begin to take her off on her voyage. My gasps mix with hers as my cameleon exquisitely sucks & bites my nipples.
My eyes caress the darker skin of Nobodia, her voluminous breasts bound in white rope, like a brassière. Nawakin, la bondageuse folle !
Her tits are now wax sculptures, the clamped tips encrusted by the wax. Her head falls backwards in pleasure, her eyes closed, the black stripe of her eyeshadow glistening against the white... everything is black & white with a touch of ruby red !
She leans down to kiss the breast of Nobodia, smearing the red all over her lips, now coming back up revealing a pinker shade of lipstick smeared across her mouth.
Nobodia begins to massage Nawakin, kneading her breasts in forward movements until the wax sculpture pops the clamps off in a perfect mold. Then, leaning into her, their billowing breasts communing as their firm tits touch and softness flows around, yet firm, feminine flesh.
I remember the taste of Nobodia's pussy last week when the Marquis-Noir ordered me to pleasure her at the same table, kneeling on the steps, my mouth firmly on her pussy licking her clit, my right hand spreading her open as my left arm encircled her thigh, my hand stretching up to caress her tit, as an unseen hand caressed my pussy and my wetness smeared down my thighs.
I'm wet now, and my thighs slide against each other avec la mouille, and my latex mini clings even tighter to my perspiring skin.
Nawakin now kneels on a small chair, her black skirt lifted to reveal the lunar surface of her bottom, as Nobodia cups her hand to spank her with very precise whacks followed by caresses. Her bottom reddens, Nobodia takes the badine, lightly touching the inside of her thighs when Ptitdoudou comes in to tell us that it's closing time. Just when it was getting interesting !
And we're all disappointed.
The Snake Goddess
Tonight, I'm not really in the mood to be touched, don't really have the permission, but I go upstairs with Cosmos to take a look around. The dark bedroom attracts me, so I slip into the shadows to watch a woman being fucked by her lover, as another man reclines on the bed, his stiff cock glistening in the shadows as her moans of pleasure increase.
A man is standing to my left, Cosmos at my right, and they both press their cocks into my hands as we watch. Cosmos has eagerly fingered me, but I keep my thighs together to limit the probing. Perhaps I should have let myself go into the pleasure...
A sucette in my mouth, I milk their throbbing cocks, increasing the rhythm until Cosmos explodes.
"Branleuse !", the Marquis teased me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)