I want very much to tell you stories and lovely things and send you snipped locks of hair and have you give me pieces of skin and bone and fix it all with you here so that we can fight and make up like we are a regular Joe and Mary (that’s you, by the way, Mary), and make you stand naked in the corner and write penance with your tongue on the wall and have you kneeling and pretty and spanked and nipped and petted and slapped and kisses baby.

We wander into the sex shop in the gay part of town. It is a rather conventional shop, by most standards, but oh, they have shoes. Stripper shoes a mile high, with clear heels and diamantes, platforms in white, red and black, ribbons and shiny leather.

I search through sizes while he idly browses beside me. I point some out to him, “Look, look at these, these are fabulous!!” He smiles and nods approval, “Yes Ma’am”. I find a size 13 and beckon him over. It takes him a second to realise that they are for him.

“Try them on”, … Continue Reading

Flesh on flesh, I am shoving at him, keeping my body off his cock (my cock), no contact there, but otherwise I am all over him with limbs everywhere, skin slipping against him, my mouth open and demanding, feeding off him with the violence of need. He is splayed open on the bed and I am pushing and smashing against him, he is desperate to do what I want, aroused and hungry and confused.

I want his arse, my fingers, my knuckles pushing against the sensitive skin, thrusting against him, grabbing roughly at his balls, he tries to open himself … Continue Reading

I am already crashing up against him on the way home, seeking impact. He sees the aggression before we get inside, he probably saw it building hours before, and fed it quietly all night long… slipping scraps under the table into the hungry maw when I wasn’t looking. We are still giggling and being silly as I push him police-style into the apartment.

“Only cuts and bruises, no permanent damage please!” he declares. He makes me laugh.

I am bristling with pent up energy that spikes as he closes the door, he softens under it… it looks like he is … Continue Reading

We are sitting close, touching, stroking, heading home on the subway after an evening out with friends.

“I can’t wait until we get home and do some kissing…”

I shake my head. “No kissing…” I whisper.

He smiles at me, amused and puzzled. “No kissing?!”

I smile back and lean into him. “No.”

“Cuddling?”

“No, when we get home, you are going to stand naked in the corner…”

He laughs, I look at him, he cocks his head at me. “No kissing?”

“No… naked in the corner.”

“No laying down?”

“No.”

“Blanket?”

“No.”

“Boxers?”

“No… naked in the corner…”

“Snacks?”… Continue Reading

He is tied down, face up when I come back to him and all is a blur, a strobe light of glimpses and moments, time is disjointed and I look at the disarray around me and know that I caused it.

Waxing, nipple clamps, biting, facial contortions, cock slapping, tiny holes from the wartenberg wheel, smacking all over, biting biting, shock, ball stretching, a chain in his mouth, metallic kissing, desperate breathing, riding his mouth, struggling, teeth so many teeth, fear, cropping his cock, nipples, inner thighs, my tongue nearly on his cock, gasping, pulling at skin, more kissing, my … Continue Reading

I tell him to get the paddle. He returns to where I am sitting on the edge of the bed, kneels before me and offers it up to me. I smile at him, he gives me a cheeky look back.

“Spanking, baby…” I announce, unnecessarily.

“But… but… I’ve been a good boy!” he mock-protests, his eyes wide. He is funny.

I cup his face to me and kiss him gently, he leans into it, and I feel his body relax at the familiar intimacy.

To set the scene, I have to describe what I am wearing because it makes me … Continue Reading