Apr 24, 2009

Dinner and a Show

If I had my druthers, I’d be eating somewhere other than iHop. Its vicinity to the hotel makes it the ideal place to nosh.

I wave down the waitress and get a warm up on my coffee. I’m on my third cup and have time for a fourth before I need to be getting back.

I refresh my iPhone to see what’s going on in my hotel room. The girl is still on the bed. She’s pulled her knees up towards her chin as much as she can. I can see that her breathing is labored. I sip my coffee and watch as she undergoes another orgasm, her body shuddering, her legs stretching back out, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

I silently count to ten, ticking off three lesser tremors… these aftershocks are smaller orgasms that continue to rock her. She’d been at four before as I’d finished up my meal. Once she gets down to two I’ll head back to the hotel to release her.

Forty minutes ago I left her alone in my hotel room. A half hour prior to that I was letting her in the door. During the interim I placed her collar around her neck. She stripped down and I bound her with a combination of plastic wrap and duct tape. Once secured, I introduced her to a rather nasty-looking knife. Ten inches long with a serrated blade. It looked like it could gut a bear, much less a petite twenty-seven year old brunette wrapped up like a sausage on a hotel room bed.

Behind her gag she began to plead, her eyes (not yet blindfolded) wide. I put the knife against her thigh, letting the cold steel warm against her before moving it directly between her legs. She screamed, muffled but still louder than I’d have liked.

With the flick of my wrist, the knife sliced, opening a slit in the plastic wrap just above her pussy. The cool air hit her hot skin, making her think that I had cut her. She narrowed her eyes as I brought up the blade, showing her the lack of blood.

I sheathed the blade and placed it back in my bag, coming back with a five inch long white tube. I slid this into her. It went in easily as she was already slick with excitement. Before it disappeared completely, I gave it a twist at the base, causing it to vibrate. The noise of it was soon muffled as I pushed it deep into her. Her eyes rolled to white.

With one final strip of duct tape, I sealed the vibrator inside of her, taping up the slit between her legs.

I placed a blindfold over her eyes. It had two flaps that covered her ears as well. Though not as effective as the leather hood I often used upon her, it did a terrific job of blocking out all light and sound, encasing her in a dark silence.

The first few times we played together I would stay in the room while she was like this. I’d watch her go through the flood of orgasms that wracked her little body. I had to build a level of trust with her that she wasn’t going to injure herself by accident (or on purpose) while cocooned and cumming.

Eventually, I opened and closed the hotel door. Thinking I was gone, her orgasms came harder and faster until she felt my presence in the room.

The first time I set up a webcam and watched her from the lobby of the hotel, I almost thought that she was having some kind of an attack. Her body jumped as if had undergone electroshock therapy. She was a fish on a hook.

Sitting in the lobby for an hour got to be a chore. I ventured out to this iHop only a few weeks ago and it does the job, though I wish there was a book store or coffee shop nearby.

Tonight was the first night I told her about the webcam that I had been using. I showed it to her just before I slipped the blindfold on. I wasn’t sure if this would enhance her experience or damper it. Though she’s something of an exhibitionist, the feelings she experiences while bound have been far more intense once I abandoned her.

Looking at my monitor, I was pretty sure she enjoyed putting on a show for me. The next time I would tell her that I shared the URL for the webcam with a few friends. Either I really will or I won’t, but she’ll never know just how many eyes are on her as she orgasms for an hour.

Another cup of coffee and she’s down to two petite morts. I leave the money for the check and tip, giving extra for how attentive the waitress has been. I fantasize about she would say or do if I showed her the girl on my iPhone and told her that I’m going back to room 214 at the Sheraton next door. Would she like to join me?

I push this out of my thoughts as I push open the door and begin the short walk back to the hotel.

Entering the room I catch the last few whimpers of her last orgasm. She hasn’t heard me come in but she knows I’m there.

As I get closer to her I can start to hear the faint hum of the vibrator inside her. Its pitched lower, the batteries running down. I stand and admire her; her proud breasts pressed flat like strawberry-adorned pancakes under plastic, her hair soaked with sweat, her nostrils flaring as she tries to catch her breath.

I unsnap the strap that holds the gag in her mouth. I remove it, strings of saliva trailing behind it. She takes great gulps of the cool air.

Reaching between her legs, I remove the duct tape, thankful for her bare pussy. The tape barely holds, its sticking power diminished by her wetness. I stick two fingers in her and they slide in easily. She’s sopping. She shudders when I remove the spent vibrator. Is she grateful or sad that it’s gone?

I slide her body easily to the edge of the bed, her head lies off the edge slightly. She opens wide, knowing what’s coming.

I drop my pants and use her mouth, fucking her face. She gags repeatedly and I ignore it, my fingers sunk into the plastic over her breasts for purchase as I pull her fast against me, the breath from her nose hot against my balls.  She slurps and sucks as I slam deep into her mouth.

I see her fingers spread out under the plastic wrap. She’s so constricted that she can’t even make a fist. With her blindfold still in place–tears streaming out from under it–my cock is the only outside stimulus she has. My scent fills her nostrils, my meat her mouth and mind. There is only me and nothing else for her right now. She struggles to please me.

And she does.

The first few drops of cum hit her throat and she spasms again, screaming around my cock as she orgasms without even being touched. I fill her with my spunk, shooting it into her gullet. I feel her muscles milking me of every drop.

She won’t stop sucking me until I finally slide my cock out of her mouth. Thick ropes of saliva and spunk trail from her mouth to my cock. As a final bit of humiliation, I clean my softening sex off on her hair.

She coughs and swallows hard a few time, trying to readjust herself to emptiness. After I re-dress I retrieve my knife and slide the blade along her side. Her body is so hot, encased in the plastic, the she shudders at the icy blade. I remove her blindfold to allow her to see the knife before I sink it into the space between her breasts.

The plastic tears, opening up where ever I dragged the blade. She glistens with perspiration, her flesh renewed and exposed.

I cut away her cocoon quickly. The cool air hits her and she begins to shiver. I’ve got towels at the ready to wipe her dry and wrap her in something more forgiving.

There are no words. I lie with her on the bed, giving her water to replenish her spent body to sooth her sore throat.

We’ll stay this way for a while. It may be minutes, it may be hours. It lasts until she hoarsely asks permission to get up. When she does, I’ll allow it, take off her collar and let her clean herself up. She’ll shower, dress, and say her goodbyes. And, like me, she’ll count the minutes until we see each other again.

Apr 20, 2009

The Therapist: Part 3

I looked into his eyes and could see the fear and fascination there. I looked familiar to him but just as equally foreign. He turned his head to the side to get a better look. He lifted his chin, looking down his nose. I did the same. It was hard not to.

He didn't recognize that we were the same person. He always thought of himself as a man but he didn't know that there was a girl inside of him.

Me. I'm that girl. I've been with him all of his life. He's caught glimpses out of the corner of his eye, as if I were standing behind him, just out of sight, but he hasn't looked me in the eyes... until now.

I'm Wendy. He's Michael. He used to call the shots, keeping me trapped in a well deep inside of him until Dr. Herzog helped me escape. Since then I've been making my presence known more and more in Michael's life. I come out fully when she puts him into a hypnotic trance, yes, but there are other ways I make my presence known. If he realized it, Michael would see that he holds his drinks with his pinky extended daintily. He'd hear that his voice has gone up a bit in its pitch. And he'd realize that his mouth waters a little bit whenever he sees an attractive man.

I'll admit it. I'm a cockslut. I've got a voracious appetite for it. Every time the phone rings at Michael's place, I get a little shiver down my spine, hoping that it'll be Dr. Herzog on the other end of the line giving him his trigger word to release me from my masculine bonds. When this happens, it's Michael that fades into the background while I step into the spotlight. I feel like a star. I'm the center of attention at the Herzogs when I go to their place.

There are times, like this, where Michael is given the chance to confront me. To see himself for what he should be. Tonight Dr. Herzog invited me out and let Michael see me. It was time that he and I had a little chat. The more he tries to deny that I exist, the more difficult it's become for me to come out, despite all of the hypnotic conditioning Dr. Herzog has put in place for my ease of entry into the world.

"Why do you resist me?" I asked him, my mouth forming a perfect little pout. I could see this because he could see this.

"I... I don't want you around. You're ruining my life!" he shouted. I noticed that he avoided any sibilant sounds. I'd gotten him lisping ever so slightly like Cindy Brady. He knew this because I knew this.

"Am I really? Is that what you think? You've seen the world through my eyes and lived it the way I want to live. Isn't that better? Haven't you had fun? Hasn't it been super?" I just had to add that last part to give him a good sissy lisp.

"No!" he whined. "I don't want any part of it! You're making me do things I don't want!"

"Like what?"

"Everything! The clothes! The way I act!"

"The way you feel about men?"

"Yes! Especially that!"

"Oh, don't be coy. Don't try to tell me that you don't enjoy that. I've been with you all your life. I know everything you've ever thought and all of your fantasies. I've been there as you've jacked off thinking of the jock who saw you naked at the gym. I've felt you get hard while watching porn, not because of the women but because of the men. I'm simply doing all of the things you've always wanted to do but never would."

Normally I'd be concerned if a patient of mine were having such a heated conversation with themselves while staring in a mirror. Yet, this is exactly how I knew this would happen. I had found Wendy inside of Michael during an early hypnosis session. I could picture her as a little girl, a lost urchin starving and shaking from fear hidden amongst trappings of macho bullshit that Michael had piled on over the years, trying to keep Wendy repressed.

I found the little girl and helped raise her, so to speak. I knew that her presence was the key to Michael's personality and so many of the issues he couldn't resolve. How could he? He was denying himself -- much like he was dong now.

Tonight I hoped to resolve some of the conflict between the masculine and feminine sides of Michael's personality and allow the feminine to win. I was sissifying him, giving Wendy the upper hand. I didn't want to eradicate Michael from existence, rather, I wanted to torment him with his own desires. Wendy embodied those painfully frightening feelings and she was my greatest ally in this process.

"Wendy, perhaps you should show Michael just exactly what he needs," I chimed in. I could tell that they were at an impasse and I hoped this tilted the scales. My powers of persuasion and hypnosis could only go so far, even with the farther-reaching hypnotic triggers that had been set up by his Aunt when he was a boy. She was the person who kept Wendy alive through Michael's sexual awakening and initial subjugation but her training of Michael ceased when she had to move to the West Coast, leaving him adrift.

Dr. Herzog knew exactly what I needed to do to show Michael that I was his true face.

I heard the pleasantly familiar buzz from Dr. Herzog's intercom, letting her husband, Charles, know that his services were needed. Or, rather, that he was needed to be serviced. I've only had a few dozen men with which to compare him, but Charles was my most favorite. I love the way he makes me feel. If anything, I think I have gotten a little crush on him. I hope Dr. Herzog doesn't mind.

I walked over to the center of the room with Michael walking with me. I tried to kneel where Charles liked me to be but my knees were locked.

"No, I won't!" Michael shouted.

"But you want to," I said.

"No, I don't!"

I closed my eyes and thought of all the men that the Herzogs had introduced me to. The wonderful feelings that they gave me and how they satisfied the cravings that I had had for my entire life. I heard their moans mixed with mine. I felt the physical feelings, yes--the hard heat in my mouth and pussy--but also the satisfaction of pleasing.

Into my hand I felt the hot hardness that I loved so much. It was like touching an electric fence. The world stopped and a jolt traveled through my body. I opened my eyes to see Charles standing in front of me, towering over me, his hand over mine, over his erection.

"This," I said, "is what you need. Can't you feel it? Won't you bend to it?"

I could feel Charles's pulse pounding through his sex. My mouth was watering and I felt my clit get hard in my panties. Moreover, I could feel Michael's resolve weakening. He wanted Charles's cock. He needed this because I did.

I sank now to my knees. Hesitant, shaky, but down I went. I trailed my hand over Charles's sex, tracing the ridge around the head of his massive cock. I heard a groan, looked to Charles, and realized it wasn't him making the noise. It was coming from my mouth... it was Michael groaning, feeling the desire that burned inside of me... of us.

Normally, I'd have had my lips wrapped around Charles by now but I wanted to take it slow and easy to let Michael realize just how wonderful servicing a man could be; how marvelous a cock is. I could feel my mouth watering as my fingers played across the ridged surface, feeling the velvet soft mushroom head, running a finger down along the underside of his tool to the base.

I leaned forward and took in the strong heady scent of manhood. It was intoxicating. My eyes closed as I moved closer, my mouth opening. Then I stopped and forced my eyes open. I wanted Michael to see everything, experience it all. I looked at him in the mirror with his own Charles there, cock standing at attention in his hands. As I leaned forward, so did he. Our eyes were locked as we licked the tip of Charles's cock, tasting the salty sourness of man.

We opened our mouths wider and, likewise, Michael opened his eyes wider. I could see the fright there.

"It's all right," I thought to him. "I'll be here to guide you. You're safe."

And with that, we took Charles into our mouth, feeling the bulbous head roll over our lips and onto our tongue. The soft hardness filling our eager mouths. We heard him moan and felt the satisfaction that comes with pleasing. This made us move our heads further onto him.

Usually Charles likes to put a hand in my hair and direct me as I suck him but this time he just let me lead Michael through the experience. I wanted him to savor every inch and every sensation.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," thought Michael.

"This is what you were born to do," I told him. "You were made for making men happy. You were born to suck cock." With that, I leaned in even closer, taking Charles as deep as I could without gagging. A few faint wisps of his pubic hair tickled my nose.

I began moving my head back and forth along his shaft, slowly easing him in and out, wanting to go faster but hesitant to scare Michael.

Without warning, however, I felt my head moving quicker. It wasn't me doing this. It was Michael. I smiled inwardly and knew that we had just made a breakthrough.

A low moan came from deep within as Michael took Charles deeper than I had felt comfortable going before. The hunger had him. He needed to feel more, to know what it meant to feel that emptiness filled. Our throat worked, swallowing Charles as deeply as we could.

Charles joined with his own moan and swore under his breath as Michael worked his cock like he was born to it, just as I had told him, just as I knew.

Usually I can tell when Charles is climaxing from the forceful way he fucks my face, pumping as deep as he can. But perhaps something about Michael's mouth was different for Charles simply let out another low, guttural moan before unleashing a flood into our mouth. This was Michael's first taste of cum and swallowed it down with demanding thirst.

Spent, Charles pulled out and I heard Michael say, "I want more." I knew that he had joined me and I began to feel whole for the first time in a long time.

"Wendy?" Dr. Herzog asked, "Is Michael still here?"

"He's somewhere inside of me, Doctor. He's content and knows that I am the real person that he always needed to be."

She smiled and told me that when I wasn't called forth from Michael's subconscious that I would be much more present in his life. More than fleeting effeminate gestures, he would feel far more like the girl he truly is. I would be calling more of the shots. He would feel my hunger and be a cockslut. He would be this way because I am this way.

Apr 18, 2009

Political Maneuvers Pt. 2

The following is a sequel to this story. Enjoy!

"...And when I see you Saturday, I don't want you to be wearing any panties, understood?"

"Yes, sir," came the reluctant response from the other end of the phone.

Anne had been under his thumb for two months. She hated every minute of it, especially when he pawed at her, telling her how lucky she was to have him for a brother-in-law. Her heart broke every time she saw her sister, knowing what a louse she was married to, recalling his grunts as he thrusted inside of her, feeling his beads of sweat landing on her back as he sodomized her time and again.

He made a point to call her every day, wearing her down, making her talk dirty to him as he masturbated on the other end of the phone. He bent her over the sink in his family bathroom during their Easter gathering, raping her ass while the kids hunted for colored eggs outside.

And now he was giving her instructions on how she needed to dress and act for the upcoming family reunion.

At the gathering, she catches him several times eying her lasciviously and this makes her heart jump. What it someone else sees the same thing? Is he really being that careful? There's already far too much drama in this family, she thinks, crossing her arms over her chest and holding her shoulders as if a chill has come over her.

She's alone in the kitchen, making herself a drink, when his arms wrap around her waist. She's startled and thinks that it's her husband until she feels him grind his cock into her ass. "Hello, slut," he whispers in her ear.

"What are you doing? Someone might catch us!" she hisses, her hands shakily raising the glass to her lips, trying to maintain her cool.

He shushes her before quickly undoing the button of her slacks and sliding a hand down into her pants, feeling her shaved pussy.

"Oh, good girl," he says smugly. "You look terrific. I want you. I want to be inside of you."

She gulps.

"Meet me upstairs in the guest room in fifteen minutes," he says, taking his hand out. Before she can protest, he's gone, the kitchen door swinging behind him.

Anne doesn't waste much time once she got back to the group, saying that she had the beginnings of a migraine and needs to lay down and hopes it got better. Her mother is remarkably understanding.

When she gets up to the guest room, he's already there, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Good girl," he says and crooks his finger, calling her over. She's afraid of being caught, disgusted by the power he had over her, and incredulous that she feels a flush of excitement wash over her when he calls her a "good girl."

She goes to him. He points to the floor and she gets down on her knees. He leans back, hands on the bedspread behind him, propping him up. She knew what she has to do.

She undoes his belt and pants button, lowering his zipper and opening the front of his pants. He's already hard, his cock straining against the front of his boxers. She gingerly fishes him out of his underwear before taking him into her mouth.

He groans, swearing under his breath. "Oh, how I love that sweet little mouth. I want you to come downtown to my extra place this week. Wednesday evening. I'm going to have a couple of friends try you out."

She chokes on him and came up coughing. "What? What do you mean?"

"I told you before; you're mine. You'll do what I want with whoever I want. Of course, they won't touch your pussy. That still belongs to your dear husband. But everything else is mine, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," she says, her heart pounding. She looks at his cock, slick with her spit, and tries to stomach putting it back in her mouth but she's too distracted. "I can't believe you're going strange men men fuck me."

"Men? I said 'friends'. They're a couple. A man and a woman. I think he's going to enjoy reaming you out while you lick his wife's pussy."

She gasps again, "But... I've never..."

"You will, and you'd better do a good job. These are important business associates of mine. Now, cut the chatter. Strip and get up on the bed."

She does as he said, climbing naked onto the bed, her knees spread. She knows how he likes her to be. She feels his weight move the mattress behind her.

Without warning, she feels his finger enter into her asshole, rough and sudden. She nearly shrieks, biting her lower lip from doing so and raising alarm in the house. One finger become two. She's invaded, powerless, and then she experiences a new sensation.

"Yesss," she hisses, and she's shocked to hear herself say it.

She hears him chuckle and a third finger enters her, violating her even more.

She realizes, with horror, that she loves it.

"Yes, fuck me," she pleads, wanting to feel him inside her.

The head of his cock pushes against her asshole. "Show me how much you want it," he says, "Push back against me. Fuck yourself with my cock."

She grunts loud and low as she launches herself backwards, impaling herself on him. Her body protests against the intrusion, her ass working to accept his girth inside of her.

"Oh, god," she pants, wanting to take away the pain but needing it at the same time. Into her creeps the pleasure that comes with feeling him inside of her, lighting up her nerves.

Once he's inside her, he's anything but gentle. He takes hold of her long, brunette hair, keeping her on him. She feels him getting larger inside her.

He releases her hair just a bit and she begins to move forward, ever so slowly. She goes up as far as she can while keeping him inside before he pulls her back, slamming into her, his balls slapping her cunt, sending shivers up her spine.

He begins increasing the rhythm, feeling her ass grasping him, and he smiles. He listens to her breathing, short quick gasps. He fucks her in time with her breathing, loving being inside of her and knowing that he's bending her will to his.

He reaches under her and finds her clitoris, swollen and wanting. As he brushes it with his fingertips, Anne lets out an exquisite squeal. He feels her tighten around him even more. Anne moves in time with him as to keep the feelings flowing from her clit, allowing him to guide her by her hair.

She hears a noise, something droning, like a lawn mower outside. It finally crystallizes that it's her own moaning that fills her ears.

"Fuck me," she pleads. "Harder, make it hurt."

"Such a fucking little slut," he says, smiling, obliging, pumping her harder.

She's on a precipice and gladly jumps off, plunging headlong into an orgasm that shakes her to the core.

Her muscles contract with the peristalsis of pleasure, putting him over the edge as well. He cums hard and fast, pumping his load deep inside of her.

When he's spent, he feels her ass still spasm like a fish gasping for breath on dry land. He enjoys the experience for a moment before pushing her off of him.

"Get dressed and put yourself back together," he tells her. "Leave my cum inside of you. I want you to think about this for the rest of the day and feel me leaking out of you."

"Yes, sir," she says and then, unexpectedly, she adds, "Thank you, sir."

"Be at my apartment downtown Wednesday night at 8PM," he says as he does up his pants. He takes one final look at her, lying akimbo on the guest bed, before going back down to the rest of the family who are none the wiser.

Apr 17, 2009

Golden Opportunity

The Lovely Paige

My good friend Paige. She's smoking hot.

Sugasm #163

Big thanks to the fine folks at Sugasm for picking my story, Another Night With My Beer Buddy as one of this week's top picks!

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #164? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Another Night With My Beer Buddy
“She nodded, her eyes closing with pleasure, his arm working.”

Blowjob in Red
“My voice descended into lust.”

Her dirty talk got me off. twice.
“Why does that turn me on so goddamn much?”

Sugasm Editor
Sex Work And Honesty: The Correct Answer

Editor’s Choice
Stockinged Feet

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Long Way Down

Apr 15, 2009


Naughty Weekend

I'm bound (not really) and determined (really) to have some fun. I've got a free Sunday and full free weekend coming up at the end of April/beginning of May. I haven't played in months and am hoping to experience some interesting things. All work and no play make the Porno Person a very dull boy.

Any takers?

Sexy Spawn

Apr 14, 2009

Whatever Tickles Your Fancy

The Games We Play

My friend, Ann, is in her mid-forties and has two grown children. Despite her age, she loves to get together with me on occasion and pretend that she's a little girl. Not too little -- she's not in diapers -- but she definitely likes to pretend that she's below the age of consent. She was afraid to tell me that she enjoys this as it's commonly thought that those who enjoy this kind of play are pedophiles. Ageplay to be a great release for people who enjoy roleplaying, being innocent, and relatively powerless. Plus, there's something quite delicious about the taboo especially when ageplay meets familyplay.

Ann is my "little girl." She calls me "Daddy" and I call her "girl." She often puts her hair in pig tails and wears a schoolgirl outfit. Most often we play at the seduction... Daddy coming home from work and punishing his little girl for a call he got from her teacher or principal. I take her over my knee and give her a spanking, telling her that she needs to be good. Doesn't she want to be good for Daddy? Doesn't she want to be Daddy's good girl?

"Oh, yes, Daddy. I want to be good for you! Let me be your good girl!" she pleads, her white cotton panties down around her knees, my hands perilously close to her sex. She's squirming on my lap, grinding against my cock while I admire the red patterns my hands made across her bottom.

"If you really want to be my good girl then you'll do something for me. Something that Mommy won't do. But it has to be our secret."

Her eyes get comically big, looking up at me with tears rimming her eyes. "Oh, yes, Daddy. Anything! I won't tell!"

I tell her to get on the floor. She starts to pull up her panties but I have her leave them down. She gets between my legs and I look down to see the swell of her pussy, full and open like a flower in the morning, faint traces of her dew around the tendrils of her pubic hair.

Putting my hand on her chin I say, "Daddy needs help with a problem he has. He gets these pains and the only thing that can help him is if Mommy kisses him in a certain way. But she won't do it. Won't you help Daddy feel better?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy. Why won't Mommy help you?"

"She gets tired of helping Daddy. She says that Daddy hurts too often. But you won't feel that way, will you, honey?"

"Oh, no, Daddy. I want you to feel better!"

"Good girl," I say, leaning back and undoing my buckle. I undo the button of my pants and lower my zipper. My cock is straining to be free and she sees the bulge of me stressing the front panel of my whitey tighties, now dappled with pre-cum.

Freeing myself I say, "This is Daddy's penis, honey. I need you to kiss me here."

"Oh, yes, Daddy!" she says before gently showering the head of my cock with little kisses as I held onto the shaft, feeling my pulse throb under my fingers.

She needs me to tell her what to do. She's acting innocent so I say, "That's good, honey. Now, lick it, like an ice cream cone."

Her kisses change to little laps as she runs the tip of her tongue over me, paying special attention to the underside of the head, knowing this drives me wild. She flicks, making my leg jump. "Slow down, honey. Now just put it in your mouth a bit."

"Like this, Daddy?" she asks, sliding the head into her mouth. I love watching me disappear into her.

"Yes...." I moan, "Just like that."

I feel her tongue working, sliding up and down along the underside of my cock while she suckles me with her lips. I take her right hand off of my thigh and wrap it around my cock. "Hold it tight, baby girl, and rub up and down."

She does this obediently and moans. "It feels so nice, Daddy. It's so warm and it makes my mouth tingle. Am I doing it right?"

"Yes, honey. You're doing a great job. Try to take more of it in your mouth and move your head up and down a bit."

"Okay, Daddy.... I'll try.... but it's so big!"

I chuckle a bit to myself. My cock isn't that big but Ann always likes to pretend that it is... when she's so "little." She moves her mouth over me, her lips sliding down my shaft while she rings the base with her thumb and forefinger, gently tugging at me as she slides more and more of me into her mouth.

She looks up at me with her big, innocent eyes as she takes me deeper and deeper, pleasing me. Pleasing her Daddy. I knew what this was doing for her.... to her. I knew that if I reached down and felt her pussy that she'd be sopping wet. But that's not part of the plan.

Sometimes I tell her that her mouth isn't enough. Daddy needs to do something else that Mommy won't let him do.

Other times she asks for more. "I want to do everything that Mommy does for you," she begs. I tell her that I'll do something close... but that my girl needs to stay a virgin.

Either way, my girl gets fucked in the ass.

But, tonight, Daddy's little girl is bringing me closer and closer to cumming with her sweet mouth.

"Oh, yes, baby. That feels good. You're making Daddy feel so good. Daddy's going to give you a treat. Just keep doing that and he'll give you some candy. Daddy's warm, rich candy, right in your mouth," I say, laying it on thick. She moaned around me, taking me even deeper, and I found release in that moment.

Her eyes went wide again as she swallowed Daddy's load. She kept me in her mouth, suckling me gently until I told her that she was a good girl and patted her head.

She released me and, taking her by the shoulders, I had her lean back. "Now it's Daddy's turn to make you feel good," I said.

I reached between her legs, feeling her sex slick with desire. I found her clitoris and took it between my thumb and forefinger, rubbing it gently.

"Oh, Daddy, that does feel nice," she cooed.

"Good," I said, rubbing her nubbin, feeling her rock against my hand. "Be sure to keep our secret and Daddy can make you feel like this all the time."

I slipped a finger inside of her, making my hand into a claw, my thumb on her clitoris, three fingers plunging inside of her pussy. My pinky I slide snugly into her anus and she gasps before driving herself farther onto it.

She was using my hand now to pleasure herself, bucking against it, my fingers going deeper inside.

"Yes, little girl. Lose control for me. Lose control for Daddy."

She let go of an ear splitting scream as she came on my hand. I felt her pussy gush and grasp at my fingers like a hungry mouth, the hard suckling slowing with each gasp for breath.

I finally pull my hand free and she collapses in a heap.

"Thank you, Daddy," she says, weakly.

I smile and lean back, considering doing up my trousers but feeling my cock stiffening again as I look down at my disheveled "daughter" and contemplating fucking her.

I smile to myself and think fondly of the games we play.

Apr 12, 2009

When Mainstream Tries Kinky

Here's a list of the "Ten Hottest Female Celebrity Dominatrix Scenes". Not sure if I agree with all of them or how much of a "celebrity" some of these gals are.

Personally, I think that Kristen Bell's turn is my favorite (you have to go straight to YouTube to see this clip). Though I have to check out From Beyond and a few other of these flicks now.

Apr 10, 2009

He Hit Me (And It Felt Like A Kiss)

This song was originally written about abusive relationships (and not by Carole King, despite what Courtney Love may say). However, it takes on a whole different meaning in certain circles... like this one.

Apr 6, 2009

More Sexy Robots

I never knew how pervasive this was until I started looking.

Frankie Says Relax

I've never seen this video until today. Wow! Pretty impressive for its time.

Apr 4, 2009


I'm being followed... On Twitter by OpenBDSM, a multilingual site with some great photos (and some writing that I can't read). Here's a sample of what they host:

Shibari Lovely

Apr 3, 2009

Second Book?

I'm thinking of taking two stories from my first book that both have a robot theme and making a full-length work out of them. I've got a few ideas about where the story can/should go but I'm VERY curious as to what other people think. Would anyone be so kind as to take a gander and give opinions?

Thank you!

Here are some images for inspiration:

Trying Something New...

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Oh, Granny!

A nightmare for some, a fantasy of others.

Apr 2, 2009

Sugasm 162

Thanks to the editors of Sugasm for including my tale of woe, An Escort to Remember, in this week's picks!

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #163? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Justify My Love
“All I could think of was to have his arms around me so that they could make everything right.”

Tied Naked In A Field Of Grass
“Growing up on a farm has its advantages.”

On Machismo
“It’s very weird, this rigid interpretation of gender in America.”

Sugasm Editor
Sex Work And Compassion: The Angry Family

Editor’s Choice

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Passion & Power: The Technology of Orgasm

There are two distinct storylines in Emiko Omori and Wendy Blair Slick's 2007 documentary: the history of technology used to aid female orgasms and the story of Joanne Webb, a Texas woman who was actually prosecuted in 2004 for selling vibrators. That's right, prosecuted.

See, in old Texas no laws govern the number of guns you can own, but women can't have more than five vibrators. And Webb was on the stiff side of the law while selling sexual aids at a Passion Party (that'd be a Tupperware bash that buzzes instead of burps). Her story here plays against a background of documented opinions about female orgasms from the 1700s to the 1970s. That alluring feminine mystique metamorphosed from something condoned to something condemned. Rudimentary sexual stimulants were originally used to relieve women of "hysteria" brought about by such independent activities as "reading French novels while tightly corseted." Once brazenly advertised in magazines and the Sears Roebuck catalog, the personal vibrator was ubiquitous as electric lights.

Passion and Power doesn't adequately explain the vibrator's disappearance and the devolution of female sexuality in the United States. Interviewees — such as noted sex educator and author Betty Dodson — gaze back to days before women had proper sexual education, as if those times have vanished. While this is a wonderful idea for historical purposes, it's far from today's sexual milieu. Audiences need only witness Joanne Webb's tale of Texas justice to see how far we've yet to go.

Unfortunately, neither Webb nor the vibrator gets enough attention during this 74-minute work, leaving viewers unsatisfied. Worse, interview subjects are framed in crooked, floating boxes in a way that doesn't mask shoddy camerawork. Instead, they point out just how poorly shot the documentary is. An interesting concept, Passion and Power is but a big tease.