Impatience

As I have stated previously I am a rather impatient person. I hate waiting for anything or anyone and I want what I want when and how I want it.

In a nutshell I am greedy and selfish.

If you arrive at our agreed playspace one moment late prepare to meet my wrath. Oh I am a "nice" girl generally speaking but I take my play very seriously. HAH!

I have had a girl recently show up late. We had prenegotiated for a knife, removal of clothing, bondage (my choice or rope or silken scarves) several sharp items that she reluctantly consented to. Claws, wartenburg wheel, a glove covered in a rather sharp abrasive rubber pad. A paddle, clothespins and crops.

By the time she arrived my candles had burnt rather low. The lighting now seemed sinister and the mood was definitely altered.

"Strip" was my terse command.

Her attempt at a strip tease was observed but not responded to other than to cause me to arch one brow at her.

"Kneel" my next order, this time she picked up on the tension in my voice.

I walked slowly around her shivering, prone form. I had placed a hand on the back of her neck and pushed her forward until her nose was pressed into the carpet. She had whimpered softly at the stern touch of my hand.

"Girl, you will now take two strokes of my paddle for every minute you were late. How many minutes were you late?"

I can hear her reply of "15 minutes."

"No darling, you were 24 minutes late, how many strokes of my paddle will you receive tonight?"

She knows the answer and tells me it will be 48. I can tell she is excited I can hear her smile even if she is face down. She will not be smiling when she leaves, this is punishment even if it doesn't feel like it yet.

I kneel next to her lovely round ass and trace my fingernails lightly over the pale skin. She is unmarked. This will change.

I raise my paddle and tell her to count. I do not temper my first blows, they are hard and fall on her in deep resounding smacks. She is counting and I can not hear her, I smile a twisted evil grin, I am enjoying myself despite being disappointed at her disrespect.

"Darling if I can not hear you counting then you are not counting at all, lets begin again, shall we?"

She protests somewhat weakly until my smacks begin again. Then her head comes up and she calls each slap of my paddle against her cheeks out loudly. She reaches 15 before I stop again and set my paddle down. Resting my cool fingers against her flaming cheeks.

"Dear girl, how can I take your counting seriously. Do you not understand your job? You must count each slap to each cheek in a running tally. Four left, three right. That way I keep your cheeks evenly reddened. So it is 48 slaps per cheek and you have already counted to 15. Darling this will never do. Start again now and count the paddle per cheek."

She is groaning and I can feel protests welling within her. But she has consented and if she wants to play, she must obey or use her safeword and go home very unhappy indeed.

I hear her reply of "Yes my Goddess" and I resume the punishment.

Now I am striking her ass in staccato beats, two on one cheek then three on the other, then back again. She is struggling to keep a tally and I am laughing as I change tempo again and strike both cheeks at once repeatedly. She is in tears now as she tries to concentrate on counting and ends up very confused and muddled.

Her tears only push me further and the smacks of my paddle grow harder and deeper, the colour of her ass going from red to a darker more sinister colour that is nearly indigo. She is sobbing now and has lost count again.

I set my paddle aside and rub my palm slowly over each cheek. Squeezing her hot skin in my hand and scratching her lightly with my nails.

I lift her tear stained face so she is looking up into my face. She can see I am not impressed with her crying or her failure to count.

"Perhaps we ought to try something else darling since you seem incapable of counting your paddling."

She winces and shakes her head. "Please Goddess, I will do better this time."

I admire her tenacity at wanting to please me and tell her get ready.

The paddle strikes are no less harsh and I vary tempo and speed. She counts like a trooper and somehow that darling girl manages to count 48 strokes, per cheek.

Pleased to no end, I rub her raw bottom gently and slide my hands over her quivering thighs. Slipping my fingers between her legs and feeling her hot wetness, I laugh.

"How many orgasms did your paddling give you, little one?"

She smiles up at me through tears, "I am not THAT talented at counting!"

I laugh and push her onto her back laying on top of her and licking at her tears cat-like.

"Naughty girl, don't be late again or I will cancel play all together. Now let's have some fun!" I smile at her and kiss her lips hard.

She is so responsive I feel her pressing up into me as I pinch her nipple cruelly in my fingernails.

It will be a very long night...

Dirty Dreamer

I have vivid sex dreams, the kind that I awake from gasping, humping at my sheets and orgasming. They intensify as my sexual desires wax and wan like the moon cycles. They also increase in potency when I know I am going to play and am looking forward to it with anticipation.

My Dream

He is naked as I have undressed him at the door, pulling his willing body from his clothing as quickly and efficiently as I can. I am greedy and clothing hampers getting what I want. And I want it so badly, I have to be careful not to injure his clothing.

I laugh as I grab him by his rather erect member (I am not the only eager one) and lead him to the sex nest I have prepared.

Toys and lube are in easy reach, the sheets hide a waterproof mattress cover (I intend on soaking this space in my orgasmic squirt) towels are stacked neatly, safer sex supplies are plentiful.

I instruct him to lay on his side, with his head at the bottom end of the bed. I apply lube (vanilla mm) to his dick and nestle in beside him.

My pussy is in his face and my lips are wrapped happily around his cock. Blissful as I feel him slide well lubed fingers (all four of them) into my pussy and stretch me. I squirt immediately and blush knowing I likely flooded his face and the sheets. Groaning at the pleasure that sweeps through me I apply my energy to sucking on his vanilla flavored dong. Licking his sac and sucking his balls into my mouth as I push a lubed toy into his ass.

I hear him groan in ecstasy and he fucks at the toy. He is such an ass whore and I adore it. I fuck his ass as I lick and such his dick.

His mouth is on my clit and his fingers are milking my g-spot. I shudder and cry out as I squirt and gush and nearly drown him.

He is shaking hard and suddenly freezes as he has a p-spot orgasm. I nibble and suck at his balls until he comes back down to earth.

I need his balls slapping at my ass as he buries his dick in my pussy and he is quick to respond. Flipping me onto my back and resting my legs on his shoulders, he pumps his rock hard shaft into me and I cum in a great gush over him. He is stroking hard and fast and I am squirting every few strokes, blissed out and cumming in multiples as he fucks me.

Suddenly he stops and pulls out of me.

Flipping me over and sliding a thumb in my ass, he wiggles some lube inside me and then his cock is in my butt and I am cumming again. I rock back hard against him and he meets each thrust eagerly.

I wake up my hand in my pussy and I am squirting all over my fingers.. Ah I can not wait until this is no longer just a dream!

Happy

I suffer from SAD. I hate admitting it. As a child growing up on the prairies I would get cabin fever during the ultra cold months. I was the child that was always outside in the sunshine and the dirt. As an adult living in BC the gloom of rain and clouds for continous days can really get me down. Any sunshine will find me out in nature, no matter how cold or muddy it is. This story is entirely a work of my imagination and it makes me very happy to imagine such things.

It is hot and dry the kind of dry heat that drys the perspiration off your body before it truly has a chance to form.

I am dressed in a sheer white sundress. Nothing underneath, it is entirely to warm to have anything else against my skin. My hair is tickling my bare arms as it swings like a tail, all tied up in a high pony. Water is on my mind and something more, my thirst is nearly primal. Wetness between my legs let's me know my body is very ready.

I stop at a vendor selling cold bottles of water. The moisture forms in tiny beads before the dry air whisks it away. I buy two bottles and meander on. My feet feel dry and dusty, I wiggle my toes anxious to be free of my sandals. Little bondage chambers trying to restrict my freedom. I grin thinking of the comparison.

Holding the bottles close against me the cool cylinders fresh and clean next to my hot torso. I wander off the path and into a field of wild grasses, I am quickly to my waist in the verdance that is sweet prairie. A meadowlark sings off in the distance and I can hear the small sounds of grasshoppers and midges.

I find a gloriously lush patch where the grass grows bright green still fed by an underground stream and sit down tugging straps and freeing my feet. Wiggling my toes in the grasses, it is cool underneath.

I spread my legs wide and warm air pours over my legs, lapping at my moist labia.

I am thirsty as I had noticed earlier. I open one bottle and pour the bright cold liquid down my parched throat. Immediately refreshed but still hot I dampen the front of my sundress by pouring cold dribbles over my shoulders. Moaning at the pleasure of feeling cooled while the warm sun quickly heats me up again.

Mmm delicious.

I grab the full bottle and press it against my throat, revelling as my nipples harden and goosepimples form.

Erotic, that sensation. I slide the bottle lower and rub eager nipples to the cold side. Oh yes this is simply decadent!

I lift my sundress and rub the bottle all over my thighs. Noting the bumps that rise and fall at the chill touch. My toes wiggle and I squirm as it comes in contact with my hot inner thighs. Pressing it to my swollen lips and gasping at the glaring spark of arousal.

Wiggling deeper into the grasses and hiding myself as I slide the bottle over my labia and press hard so it touches my hardening clit. I sigh as my arousal rises rubbing the now slippery bottle in my moist crack. Cold hitting my clit and causing shivery tingles as I rub the ridge of the bottle up and down my greedy slit.

Groaning as my pleasure mounts and the blush of orgasm blooms across my chest. Back arched, breasts straining as my climax overtakes me and I tumble back into my impromptu love nest.

Giggling as my vision clears and I tug my dress back down. Languid I roll onto my tummy and rub the bottle clean in the grass.

The sounds of the meadow come drifting back and I hear the heat buzzing around me. Afternoon delight in the hot summer sun. A perfect way to enjoy a tall cool drink.
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Romance

I have been accused of being insensitive, and unromantic. It frustrates me to hear these words directed at me, as I view myself as a hopeless romantic.

I have spent my fair share of timemaking romantic dinners and scattering beds with rosepetals. But my favorite romantic things are always more about finding something different to do that the other person will really enjoy.

One of the most romantic things I ever did was for my ex-husband. It was his birthday and we were so pathetically poor that I had no money at all to do anything. So I decided to do something fun.

I baked a cake (and ingredients were scarce) and then I cut out the letters of HAPPY BIRTHDAY and on each letter I placed a clue that led to the next letter. The last letter was on his cake.

I woke him up and he followed the clues, all bewildered and finally found his cake. He laughed and dipped his finger in the icing and fed it to me. We embraced and kissed. It was a sweet and carefree moment and I still think it is one of the more romantic things I have done.

Perhaps the most romantic moment of my life was when Master surprised me with the most breathtaking scenery I had ever seen.

I arrived at his home and we did our usualy ritual greeting. The next morning had him dragging me out of bed at 6am. I was so sleepy, we had been up late playing and I had serious bedhead.

He pushed me into the shower and while I got clean he pulled out clothing and shoes for me. I toweled off and found a pair of comfy jeans and long sleeved shirt, with a hoody and thick quilted vest. Hikers and warm comfy socks for my feet. I groaned in mock tiredness and whimpered at him as he laughed and jumped in the shower. He knew I was getting curious.

Not long after we were in his car, picnic lunch in the backseat, hurling down the freeway. Master liked to drive fast and I thrill at the speed and his control of the vehicle. We are driving back towards my house and I wonder where we are going when he takes an exit I have never used before.

He is driving through countryside that is unfamiliar to me. I know what is north and south but we are heading west towards the ocean. I reach over and take his hand and ask in my sweetest lil gurl voice where we are going. His only response is a smile. I settle back in my seat and watch out the window. Curiosity gnawing away at me and making me fidget with impatience.

Now we are in sudden forest and I stare up at the tall trees appreciatively, I adore trees. A picnic in the forest maybe?

Just as sudden as the forest begins it ends and we are on bridge crossing between the land that was and the land that will be. I am stunned and my jaw drops. The bridge must be 500 Meters above the water that churns below. The cliffs drop sheer to the water.

Amazed at the wild beauty I cry out and point out a bald eagle. "Master look!" He smiles broader at my response.

On the other side of the bridge he parks and I jump out of the car.

"OH please! Please can we walk across the bridge!"

He seizes my hand saying absolutely and we walk back onto the bridge. Stopping at many spots to take photos and I hug him a bunch and breathe deep the scent of the forest and water and rocks.

He tells me what this place is, Deception Pass and tells me a bit of history about it. I can tell he is pleased that I am so happy with his surprise.

Eager to explore he allows me to scramble down the path to the water and I perch on a rock over the water looking up at the bridge above me. Stunning to see the metal bolted to the cliff walls and spanning the distance between them.

He takes my picture as I am gazing up at them, I turn and smile at him and slipping down from the rock I skip over and hug him again.

To soon it is time to go and we clamber back up the cliff to the car. I sigh as I settle into the seat and grasp Masters hand, kissing his fingers, grateful for this moment with him.

He continues driving west and we end up in this tiny lil town, sitting on a pier and eating the tuna fish sandwiches he packed for us. I swing my feet out over the water happy and content and loving the sunshine and the beautiful moment. Loving him and that he took the time to think of what I would like to do.

Later we wander through the tiny downtown shops just looking at things and goofing around.

Maybe this doesn't fit some ideas or romance, but it sure made my heart melt!

Fetish

I have a fetish. A fetish for an everyday thing, a fetish that I struggle to contain.

I have a hand fetish.

I work in a corporate world.

I shake hands on average 100 times a day.

I am aroused by a handshake on average 100 times a day.

This is not so much a problem as a minor annoyance.

And then there are THOSE handshakes.

THOSE handshakes are the ones where my tiny hand is enveloped completely in the large, strong, grasp of a man whose eyes I meet and feel the sharp sting of my true nature slam into me like a barbed flogger.

They do not happen often. When they do happen in my corporate world I must remain composed. I can allow no slips. This is my career. I feel anguish in those moments for the missed opportunity, there is nothing I can do about it. It is what it is.

When they happen in the kink community I am always stunned and allow myself to lean closer and catch their scent (another fetish). I hold on slightly longer. The handshake becomes an intimate embrace and I feel their gaze pressing into me. My eyes hold thiers and I throb with the intensity of my desire.

This happened to me at the last Fraser Valley Munch.

I flushed after, I blush very red and very deep. His attention had turned away again so his icey blue eyes did not perhaps catch my entire reaction. My heart was racing so hard I was certain the girl sitting beside me would comment on the Taiko drummer.

I slipped away to a safer position, watching him from the other side of the room. Enjoying cuddles and caresses. It is rare I am not being cuddled at a munch.

The love of the cuddle and carress merely feeds my hand fetish. I am touch and held and petted and hold hands. It is amazing how it both arouses and soothes me at the same time.

My brain would not allow me to let go of the handshake and that auto erotic response.

The end of the evening came.

I stood near him. Inhaling his scent, offering a handshake again. Which he accepted, sending my senses reeling. Oh! That strength! He is warm, tall, and strong. His hands, oh his hands... I want to kiss them! Worship those warm strong hands and feel them touch me. I have an image of him bending me over his knee and running his hand over my ass. My skin so soft under his firm touch. His hand that turns from a caress to a swat, to an all out spanking that has me giggling and gasping. Maybe I would dissolve into tears... That is rare, but possible.

Ah! How frustrating to merely smile and say I hope to see him again. What I really want is to beg him to pay attention to me.

Please sir may I have some more?
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Sexy Kisses

So close we are nearly touching, I can feel her breath on my cheek.

She moves to kiss me and I pull away, grinning, teasing.

Her hand tangles in my hair and she pins me.

Captured, she pushes her tongue into my mouth and claims it for her own.

Breathless, sucking gently at her lips and tongue.

She releases me, to my dismay, and I sit there.

Senses reeling.

Heart thrumming like a panicked animal caught in my chest.

I lean toward her, caress her cheek.

Her chin held in my fingertips, other hand stroking lightly down her throat.

My kisses soft, teasing, tongue darting out to taste her lips.

Her soft moans urging me onward.

Kissing her throat, littlest nibbles on her pale smooth skin.

Her scent is intoxicating..

Ah cherie, this is joy!

Breathe

He holds me down firmly against the futon matress tossed careless onto the floor in the basement.

It smells faintly musty from disuse. Fear is making me struggle against him. My hips rocking up and pressing against his stomach. This serves to push him further and his hand tangles in my hairn yanking hard and making me gasp.

Nipples erect and rubbing against the rough and dusty cover. I know my wetness gives me away, my clit is hard and trembling with anticipation.

He pushes his hardness into my softness and claims my pleasure for his own. Two hard strokes and I am crying out as my orgasm shakes me.

More, harder, please.
Sent wirelessly from my BlackBerry device on the Bell network.
Envoyé sans fil par mon terminal mobile BlackBerry sur le réseau de Bell.