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Tempting Fate Part 4 (Fetish)

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Current mood:waiting for Santa…or a nice bad girl to come by
Category: Writing and Poetry

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So here it is a long journey and build up of our story finally pays off. You can read the first three parts if you missed them.

Part 1
Part 2

Part 3

Or join the story already in progress.

“I don’t remember Sir” Ann said correcting herself almost expecting another stinging smack on her backside. Instead she was greeted with cruel laughter from him and mischievous giggles from the two thigh high boot and corset wearing sultry temptresses who had stripped her naked and tied her in place.

For the first time she tried those restraints, pulling against them slightly, testing her tethers. The strands of hemp that adorned her wrists tightened, she could feel the lines they were making on her delicate skin as she pulled ever so slightly. Her surrender had began as she looked out at a filled room that was watching even more intently than before. The sound of his had smacking her ass so soundly drew their attention, signaled the start they had all been anticipating, waiting for, and hoping to see with voyeuristic intensity in the past few fleeting moments.

As the laughter faded he leaned forward his face brushing against her pony tail ad his lips reached her ear. “Here’s a little clue” his voice soft, deep and breathy “oh you’ve never taken me close to my limit” he paused, her mind raced and she remember all too well telling him that on more than one occasion. Its not that she was complaining but simply her own way of stating the fact that his tastes were mild compared to what she was capable of enjoying.

“I guess we’ll see about that” and with that he stepped back the women stepped forward caressing her chest, touching teasing, and pinching her stomach working their way skillfully across her rib cage to her full round breasts. Grazing her nipples, a squeeze a touch a gentle pinch. She savored every sensation she had never been at the whim of two women before but this was certainly she could get use to.

The crowd still looked on and the only edge Sir was leading her toward was a wonderful body shaking orgasm off somewhere in the distance. She shifted slightly toward the woman on the right, moaning lustfully tugging against the ropes that etched into her skin a little more with each tug, and held her a little tighter in its caress with each shift, movement and pull. Her helplessness, the restraint, the inability to control the situation aroused her even more as the hands groping, touching, pinching and caresses continued. Again Ann looked out into the room and drank in all the people who were gazing at her, drinking in the divine and erotic vision of her before them.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Sir’s voice slipped into her ear like a thief in the night. She murmured in sheer delight, “mmmm, Yes sir I certainly am”

“Good” he whispered before stepping back and announcing to the room “its time for the real fun to begin.” A deafening chorus of howls erupted and the room closed in on them people pressing toward them.

The soft caresses and sensual touching had given way to each of the temptresses cruel hard long pinch of her nipples. The crushing sensation coursed through her breasts. As one let go the other stepped in front of her taking the free nipple in her other hand, looked her in the eye. “Now its time to suffer bitch.”

Ann played along “yes Mistress” not looking away. Her temptress didn’t waver “good because we’re going to start by whipping those pretty little tits of yours.” So far it was ll new, the being put on public display, having Sir share her with not one but two beautiful and dominate women. While a little chest play, some nice long hard pinches and the occasional set of clamps was nothing new having them flogged was virgin territory.

She felt her hair being pulled back, Sir laughed “keep your head up” he said pulling harder. The first approached and the flogger kissed her skin gently as the other landed a slightly crisper blow. They pair alternated strikes and she watched able to see the start of each stroke but had to guess as to which side it would land on and how hard it would be.

The Dominatrices reveled in their task increasing the speed and intensity taking her from pink to red to well marked. Ann went from a state of bliss with a tempting orgasm drawing closer to having her chest throughly punished, still she enjoyed it and settled in to the rhythm of the event, saving each and every stinging fall, stealing glances at the on lookers and their growing state of interest as the drew even closer.

A lull, a pause, a brief reprieve as Sir let go of her hair he scalp stung and she looked down to see her beautifully colored chest. “No where near my limit” she thought to herself, thinking of pointing out that very fact as a pair of hands grabbed each nipple firmly with a touch that lingered between the sheer delight of earlier with just touch of pain. She was even more turned on as they were lifted by the nipple…this was a favorite of hers and Sir new it. The the other woman joined back in vigorously whipping the untouched delicate underside of her breasts with a small latex flogger. And its short biting tails.

The stokes would explore her stomach, the inside of her thighs, and then back to her tits until she danced in place pulling against her ropes in earnest for the first time. A crop was added in to the mix, a crisp smack on the tits, a squeeze that intensified. To the thighs and back again until she danced in the pain, pulling on her restrains and purring along with the wicked little game she was playing.

“There is only one rule” his voice again sneaking up behind her. Ann purred at him in her sultriest voice “and what is that rule sir?”

He laughed again in that cruel tone from earlier a tone she had never heard before “Don’t come or we start all over again” She scoffed in her mind, she was a woman who had been around the block more than a few times and even though was a new side street in her sexual history but she was not some foolish little school boy who couldn’t help himself.

Four more women ascended the stairs joining them on the stage, each giving her a pinch or a smack and in some cases both as they passed. “The more the merrier” Ann thought, not knowing what was coming next but fairly certain based on the crowd around her it wasn’t going to involve a single tail.

Now seven people lurked behind her, she focused on the shuffling and the whispers. She could hear the occasional giggle and once again the room erupted. The two women that had whipped her took her breasts in their mouths tongues caressing her nipples, biting playfully as they hardened, unlike their hands each one used their mouths on her in their own unique way. The way she imagined they liked to be touched and kissed.

The crowd erupted and all but took the stage as they became a lustful huddled mass undulating in a bizarre obsessive rhythm. She swayed with them, the yelled and she called out in delight as more hands found their way onto her legs, hips and back. One mouth broke its hungry feast and then in an instant that warm, soft, delicious, mouth gave way to a cold metal nipple clamp. As the pain coursed through her veins mixing with the other pleasure the other side was attended to in the same manner, the warm biting nibble gave way to a cold unwavering clamp. The clamps were tapped and wiggled, tightened and smacked all the while the others explored her body with caresses and slaps. Clothes pins lined her thighs. She her back was whipped with a light flogger by all of the women. She pulled on the ropes, she hung in the balance between being suspended and standing, dizzied by everything that was happening to her. The hands slowly subsided, the crowd before Ann still looked on with as much interest as they had before.

“Remember the rule” The taller of the two original dominatrix, Smack a riding crop landed between her legs firmly. A few of the clothes pins were removed and then another with the crop on her pussy, and another continuing until her splotched red skin was free from the waist down.

Her back was flogged again as her pussy continued to be whipped, she felt the orgasm rising, she fought to hold it on to hold back with each measured and well placed stroke. Finally her nipple clamps were removed which was almost enough change in sensation to cause her to break the rule. She bit her lip, she though about anything but what might drive her to release. She endured and found herself standing there the four that joined in kissed her cheek and headed back into the crowd. The original two women and Sir remained. He stood on the stair in front of her. A deafening series of howls erupted as he approached them and then turned to face Ann. The women took the candles they had carried. Candles that had been burning away the entire time, creating huge pools of wax that would be poured from on high onto her chest, her back and her thighs. She was bathed in its scaling heat that coated her well abused body.

Sir Just watched and smiled. The pair pissed her lips and petted her kitty as the bid their farewells in one last fleeting attempt to make her come so it could all start again.

She stood there relishing it all waiting to be untied. Sir looked on letting her savor the experience. She rubbed her wrists admiring the lines from the ropes and the were loosened and unwrapped. She touched her chest, her thighs, and was delighted with the events of the evening. What she really needed now was a little release. “Sir what is next?” she asked in her best slut voice and flashing the deepest darkest bedroom eyes in her direction hoping for some amazing private time and after care.

He stood there, took out a black leather collar and watched her face “Oh we’re just getting started, Your ass is mine” left his lips as he fastened it around her delicate neck. Ann realized no one had come anywhere near her backside since he first swatted it. Nearly every inch of her body had been touched, teased, and tormented but not a errant swat, a single touch or playful swat caught her there.

He tied one of the ropes to the metal ring on the collar and she followed him across the stage, down the stairs and through the crowd to a small private room. There she found that edge she had been looking for, was taken near her limits again and again. A few times she was taken just beyond them. In the end not just her ass was his but every inch of her, although that part of her anatomy got some very special attention. At the end of a night that was now bordering on the beginning of morning she found herself in the car sitting rather uncomfortably and still intensely aroused. While stopped at a red light he looked over grinned that wicked grin of his she had come to know that night and told her “Now you can come”.

His hand drifted between her thighs to help her along, not that she needed much help.

SCC vs RACK, Rough Sex and Control – a Kinkster Ponders

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On a Side note off topic for those of you reading along with my book “It Had Been Years” on Malflic.com Chapters 30-40 are up for your reading pleasure with more coming soon (I really mean soon this time).

OK for those of you who are reading and not sure WTF I’m talking about

Safe, Sane, and Consensual (SCC) vs. Risk Aware Consensual Kink (RACK)

In the past months on a few months I’ve been following posts on this very topic across several kink friendly sites. I don’t consider myself an edge player and some schools of thought associate RACK with edge play. Still I have hard limits, have been around long enough to know what I’m into and more importantly what I’m not while still trying to remain open minded to new things or an individual’s needs. After all it’s only kinky the first time and maybe the second if your doing it right.

The Concept behind SSC is safe play and with that comes safe words that when uttered by the subbie brings everything to an immediate halt whether the sensations are too intense, there is uncertainty or fear, or even if emotionally you’re fried and not in that little sub space you strive to achieve like a masochists nirvana while people like me are dancing around thinking up cruel new twists in a sadists version of nirvana.

Could be you’re thinking the person on the other end of the flogger who just picked up a single tail has no clue and game over. I’m not judging anything but your choice of play partner in that case since I have no intention of advocating play with an under educated or skill challenged partner. That would just be stupid. Do you know why I don’t try suspension bondage? Simple I don’t trust my knots in that situation. Well that and I’d much rather tie you to something like a bed post, radiator or chair. ( I can feel the collective group of my Shibari and Rigger friends shudder in disappointment)

In all fairness that ‘s not everything SCC stands for so before those of you who think I’m skimming the concept get your latex under garments all in a bunch relax this is an exploration of the topic not a dictionary and the Internet is a wonderful thing with lots of places to look up the full definition some of which are even credible.

R.A.C.K is meant for (in theory as I understand it) to take away the certainty of being able to stop a scene or situation in the confines of a D/s relationship. Makes sense since most of us who do the top thing hate subs topping from the bottom although personally I’ve never been offended by the “beat me harder” request. I choose to see it as a challenge and reply gladly batter up!

So in theory the top controls the interaction and can take the bottom as far as they feel like, think is warranted, or get off on doing. (Yes Power Exchange is about more than sex, I’ll cover that another day). The bottom surrenders to that desire trusting in their top to not go to far. Although I’ve never tired it imagination tells me that its awfully hard to run away from a scene if you’re chained to a bench or cross. The RACK theory then I’ll assume is only used once a person is sure the other player is not a psycho.

Now with those concepts out in the open and giving the disclaimer once again that I consider myself a life long SCC guy I have to wonder if there is not a deeper issue in going to a RACK concept. Could it be that the expectations are different. I don’t do 24/7 and wouldn’t want to. I like the word slut but don’t use the word slave (not even in my fiction writing) it holds no magic for me yet others love and yearn for the designation. I hate silly rules and while kink is a big part of my life for me it’s just play. Hey what ever gets you off is cool with me as long as both parties are of legal age and into it.

Hard core people will scoff at that. Its OK there are a lot of things that are not my kink so I’ don’t feel the need to have every person out there understand mine. In a lot of ways I’m not a traditional sadist but unlike a lot of people (and here I am pointing fingers to a certain extent) I will admit I’m a sadist.

I love the people who tell me “I’m not sadistic I’m a master, deity, Domme, Goddess, top or whatever. OK I Identify as a Top but guess what if you like to inflict pain even if the other person wants you to or is in some way getting off on it you’re a sadist and chances are they’re a masochist. Welcome to the club there is coffee and dough nuts on the table and we’ll have your laminated membership card for you shortly.

Thinking back over 20 years of kinky life and long before I knew what a safe word was how many times have I heard one uttered?

“Stop it Jerk!” no that doesn’t count

“Hey get off my hair!” more a request, one that I typically honor, and not exactly the use of a safe word.

“Oh you think you’re so cool tying me to the bed…Bed you can’t think of anything we haven’t tried” No safe word but we certainly tried a few things and some limits that night.

Truth is I’ve heard a few but not many over the years. They weren’t like like the scene in Eurotrip where he can’t remember or couldn’t say the safeword.

They were with people I knew and just weren’t having fun at the moment for what ever reason. If you hear a safe word too often from the same person perhaps an open minded discussion long after the heat of those moments is the best thing. The I dig this but hate that type of chat. Assuming that even most of us sadists don’t want to take someone somewhere dark they really don’t want to go.

It’s not like the bondage bunny who always needs to be untied so she can pee. Occasionally its a given, just like shit pee happens, preferably not anywhere near me or my rope once again NMK. Sometimes its unavoidable. There are the rare occasion where you have to ask is it getting tied up or being tied up and untied she (or he) is into? If its the topping from the bottom a hold it bitch might suffice nicely along with a little reenforcement with your reminder of choice.

Limits, and control. When Kink is foreplay and ultimately about sex perhaps do different rules apply? Maybe these aren’t thoughts or concerns that true lifestylers have.

Now taking into account that I’m not exactly the poster boy for an alternative life style ad perhaps I do subscribe to the RACK concept more than I realize. So I’m not a lifestyle D/s Guy, I don’t live in what would be considered a D/s relationship and by those standards I’m at best a fringe player. Which is just fine by me.

I rely on knowing the scene and my partner well enough to know their limits and trust them enough to play along as intended. If they scream some dutch word, lemon meringue pie (although I would suggest not picking a safe word that includes Tart in it should you go the baked goods route), or what ever the safe word of the day is. Stop being another lousy choice for a safe word, takes all the fun out of the word if they beg me to stop and I actually have to.

And yes at times I might play with an assortment of cruel little devices in sight, three pairs of EMT scissors with in a step just in case and no safe word. Along with the expectation that the only question that will get ask is “are those fresh batteries?”

No conclusions here just more to ponder I guess at the end of it all like so many things I think many of us are a mixture of both. That my friends in the beauty of making your own rules and playing your own way. Do what works.

She Wants to Submit

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Written as a script this fun little role play features a true brat as the female lead and me playing her foil in the audio portion (available above on the pickle player).   Have a fun night and sse you in the moring with the next episode.

M = the male part
V= equals the female part (Victoria more accurately)

V- My mind is racing and before he’s even said a word I know just by my posture standing there boldly, not giving and inch, looking him squarely in they eye that I am tempting fate.

Tempting him, daring him to try to take me to that place that he wants so desperately to take me to and that maybe, some where that I’m not entirely willing to admit I might really like to go.

My heels level the stature playing field…slightly! My outfit is tempting enough to turn any man to putty, make them dance to my whims and not theirs, to give me absolutely anything I ever wanted…and so much more.

M- So I walked into the room and there she is waiting, One look tells me Oh so here we go again, she is in one of those moods, thinking I’ll back down thinking she holds all the cards, thinking that she’ll wear me down and be the one who really is in control. Not to night not unless she yells out the only thing that will make me stop, A safe word. Other wise all the begging and pleading and struggling in the world won’t help her until I decide it’s finished. Who cares if she’s had enough limits were meant to be tested, boundaries just like strong willed little sluts were meant to be broken.

V- “Ahh about time you got here I was afraid you wouldn’t show. That the possibility that it was entirely too much for your stiff stoic little mind to handle. I’m not you’re average girl you know.”

My words are bold and not until after the last one escaped my lips did I notice there was something different about him tonight. He seemed more like a statue cut from the most magnificent granite…hard and cold. But I still continued on as he crossed the long open room toward me. His foot steps are slow and hauntingly heavy, echoing loudly. His standard casual attire was missing, replaced with leather pants, a black T shirt and big black ominous boots. Still I taunted him.

“I’m not sure what you has in mind but playing war really isn’t doing much for me so an you lose the fifth infantry battalion shoes. I had other thing in mind.”

M- “That’s ok what I’m going to do to you tonight is a direct violation of the Geneva Convention.”

V- My mouthed opened before I thought. “Oh so you planned on playing war. Because on second thought I realized that you might be doing a gay biker impersonation of Johnny Cash.” Realizing his words were cold and his steps toward me slowed as I glared at him, daring him to try to come closer. I had backed him down so easily men really can be such simple little play things. And right when I was about to speak. To make sure he knew that no matter how the scene played out I was the one calling each and every shot.

He stopped. I stepped forward. He didn’t move. I moved closer again just one step. Maybe he really was just a beautiful statue since he was completely still and silent. So I batted my eyes and worked my way towards him again ever so slowly. Now we stood not more than 10 feet apart. I mocked him noticing the small black bag he was carrying “NICE PURSE! It even matches your outfit I’m so proud of you”.

Not a word, perhaps I wondered if I hurt his feelings men can be so soft and sensitive theses days. As I approached closing the last of the distance he smiled the most wicked little grin.

Finally his voice broke the silence

M - “That’s a good start. A very good start.”

V -What is? You standing still and silent. True some times I do like the strong silent type but not the still and silent type. It might be an indication of a lack of other skills, if you know what I mean.

M- “No the good start was that you already learned to come.”

V- and just then I realized that he had been in control all along, that I had played right into what he wanted but the game was far from over. “I plan on coming a lot”

M – “I bet you do. Hand!”

V- So I started to Clap (insert clapping) and then he snatched my hand right at the wrist. I pulled and put the other one behind my back quickly in an act of futile defiance. I’ll give him one thing he is a very strong man because as I pulled and all but hung my body weight from the limb he has seized and he didn’t so much as flinch holding me there like I was nothing more that a feather.

M- Now we are going to do this my way, every single second of it my way, and it will be a night you you’ll never forget.

V – “Unlikely” I bratted back at him. But as his grip tightened like a vice I could feel his warm flesh was indeed not stone now however his eyes were wicked in a way I had never seen before and he wore a sneer bordering on a grin. “I dare you to even try”. Bratting him once again

He let go of my wrist and it joined my other hand behind my back with such force that I stumbled backward, lost my balance, and crumbled in to a sexy heap on the floor.

M-”Strip”

V- Really had he become monosyllabic, “Hand! Strip!” Not much in the way of conversation to seduce a girl but hey I’ll play along in the name of a good time. So I found my way to my feet. Took another step or two back to make sure he had a really good view and started to move ever so slowly. Running my hand over my curves, a touch here, a little pat there, a shimmy a shake and a wiggle before reaching for the first buttons and then the second I drug our my little number for a good ten minutes before I got down to noting more than heels and panties.

M “So you only get one choice tonight. Which would you like first what’s in my bag or pocket first”

V “well a girl like me has to keep her options open. Is what’s in the bag bigger than what’s in your pocket?”

M “Of course it is. But you’re going to get both so pick”

V- Well I certainly hope so. So would I rather go from big to small or small to big?”

M- as I said your choice. Pick.

V- “let’s go with big first” and as I started toward him he tossed the bag at my feet. Completely unnecessary but I made the most of it, walked past the bag. Turned my back side towards him and bent over slowly and playfully making sure he was watching. The boy’s blood had to be boiling just watching me but to his credit he wasn’t letting it show. We’ll see how strong his will is when I get a little closer. And the second I looked toward the bag. CRACK right across my ass, and some where between the unexpected smack and the gasp I let out he swatted me again. So I snatched the bag stood up and was about to set things straight.

M- Put them on NOW!

V- What the fuck was that!

M – not even the start now open the bag and put them on or I will.

V- Opening the bag I saw four thick red leather cuffs with glistening d rings that could keep an aircraft carrier docked. These weren’t sex shop novelty items they were the real thing. Pushing him a little bit more “I won’t and you can’t make me” And with that he swallowed me in his arms and wrestled me to the ground before I knew what was going on I was face down with a hand behind my back and one cuff almost on.

I struggled and he spanked me again to get my attention. For one reason or another I kept struggling and when I reached back with my other arm to cover my now stinging and searing hot ass he grabbed that hand and put the cuff on.

.. –>[if !supportLists]–>V- .. –>[endif]–>Bastard

M – YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT A BASTARD I AM, BUT YOU’RE GOING TO FIND OUT!

V- Well I’m not sure if you’ve ever been tackled, pinned to the ground naked, smacked and cuffed. It can be quite the experience but I wasn’t going to give in that easy he was going to have to work for my respect. So always being the consummate brat I protested and told him “I dared you to make me put on the ankle cuffs”.

M – Fine have it your way.

V – The next sound was of a karabiner working its wicked little magic and then he picked me up like a rag doll. I just love it when that happens and set me back up on my feet. About the time that same time he managed to take a hold of my arms and lock the two cuffs together in front of me.

Guess I still haven’t learned since I decided to tell him “that was stupid now I couldn’t put the other cuffs on if I wanted to”

M – “Oh you can and you will. You just need a little proper motivation”

V - about that time he reached for the bag and unzipped a few sections I had over looked. He began pulling out an assortment of wicked little things that left nothing to the imagination. It was quite certain what they were for and more importantly that he intended to use each and every one of them on me.

So I decided to rethink my approach and took a seat, trying not to come crashing down. He just stood there and watched as I fumbled with my bound hands to collect the cuffs, contort my body and put them around my ankles.

He towered in the distance watching with wicked delight as I struggled. Looking at me and the picking up some biting little implement or another seemingly at about the exact second I was going to give up or say something.

Finally with both of them in place I rolled from my bottom to my knees and before I could reach forward to balance my self to stand he stepped right in front of me.

.. –>[if !supportLists]–>M- .. –>[endif]–>See a little motivation always helps, but don’t think you’re getting off that easy. Besides I like the position you’re in. Kneeling at my feet seems to suit you.

V- “Don’t get used to it won’t last for long.”

M- That’s right it won’t I have other uses for you. It seems we have forgotten something oh yes the thing in my pocket,

V- So with that he pulled out a long black silk scarf. I felt its soft coolness as he covered my eyes. In the darkness I could feel my skin tingling, the stimulation fading ever so slightly from our earlier encounter, the hard leather of the cuffs against wrists and the weight of it against my ankles. He helped me to my feet and led me across the room, down what I imagined to be the hall and into who knows where. He clasped my legs wide to something very solid.

Leaned me forward slightly and uncuffed my hands placing each of my fingers around a cold metal bar. As I griped it tightly the sound of chains ensuring my hands stayed in place echoed through my mind.

I waited and heard foot steps come and go. No doubt how he had left me he was collecting all those cruel devices I say him handling so eagerly in the other room.

M- Is there anything you’d like to say before we really begin

Victoria- Considering my options and for once choosing my words very carefully I stood silently.

M- Well?

Victoria- “You’re going to have to make me” and before I could finish the sentence he tore the last stitch of clothing off my body in one violent unapologetic pull. I screamed out “I’m yours, do what ever you want to me, I want and need you to. I want to submit”

Finally we were getting somewhere good and things hadn’t even really started yet.

Caress,Touch, and Pinch

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Welcome back ! This post finds us at the mid point in kink week and nothing like starting the second half of anything off right. Hopefully after this you’ll be heading off to bed but not sleep since you’ll certainly be very hot and bothered after this little tale of lust and sensation play on the audio delivered by another special guest who is an extremely talented and popular writer of her own accord The Naked Nurse.


Be Sure to visit her at her own site theOfficialNakedNurse.com and to hear the audio visit malflic.libsyn.com or  in the pickle player above.  Her voice is really something special and I can’t thank her enoughfor taking her time to do this for me.

Standing there, exposed in oh so many ways. Vulnerable in ways that can not be seen, and could never be expressed in words. Images of his toned shirtless torso and handsome face moving through the darkness swim through my mind like a raging river. Each step causing him to dance between the shadows and flickering candle light in the distance mysteriously as he approaches me again, after what had felt like an eternity.

His eyes are filled with and unquenchable desire for me, and only me. No one else matters, no one else even exists for these all too few moments. My body already warm with anticipation melts into him as we touch, pressing every inch of my being against him, hoping that he knows and can fill my every unspoken need.

It’s a heat that soon enough will give way to a torrid embrace and overwhelming sensations as his arms swallow and draw me closer. His lips warm, and soft, and wet kiss my neck.

I taunt and tease with my subtle yet suggestive movements, the anticipation growing even faster than my arousal. His hands dance across my skin knowingly, over my sensuous hips, barely a tickle, a finger tip traces up my back, and along my arm. I shudder in delight knowing there is so much more to come.

The soft touch of his finger tip slowly fades, giving way to the gentle taunting caress of his large strong hands, moving, ever so slowly up the entire length of my legs, across my bottom and to the small of my back. I could suffer this forever fate forever drinking in his admiration, a goddess, his goddess and the all consuming source of his passion

A whisper in my ear, a few words that floated in the air just before his hand playfully smacks my ass. The echo of his flesh against mine bounces through the room and before I can savor that feeling, the tingle, the subtle sting that only heightened my sensations as I wait. And wait for another but instead his hands find my breasts he presses into me from behind. Oh those magical hands so large, strong, firm, and knowing. They move me in a way that only his hands ever could. I moan deliciously filled with delight as he teases my ever hardening nipples.

I wait for what I know is coming, what I wish he would get to. Seconds pass slowly, each sensation drives me in to ecstasy. Still he’s taunting me with his hands, teasing me with his caress and then as the excitement builds and I begin to lose hope my nipples find themselves between his fingers; he pinches. My unbridled delight escapes me lips.

Now rolling their hardness between his thumb and for finger the pinch begins to bite in such a delicious way. I grind into him and his grip tightens, controlling me with only his finger tips, my knees weaken but he’s holding me firmly. I find myself swaying, rubbing my ass against his growing lust, wanting something so much deeper instead. Moaning in delight, hoping he’ll continue, I feel myself getting wetter, my heavy breaths all but scream out to him that he’s taken me to the edge.

His hands soften and touch me gently again, in that area where my breasts meet my torso, it sends chills through me then I feel him moving away. Pressing back into him, how can he not know what I want? What I need. His hands dancing all over me, back down my legs, tracing with a finger nail here, a finger tip there just enough to make me wild with desire, a playful pat, a lick and a nibble. His body teases mine as he moves to my side.

“Close you eyes” he instructs me. And his touch is gone. But it is like I can feel him and as I steal a peek he is standing there in front of me, so strong and handsome. Looking into my eyes, his hands rest on my hips before moving across my stomach and he takes my hardness between his fingers again squeezing.

He steps backward and I follow, he does it again, and again I follow, this dance continues until we find ourselves alone in a candle lit room. Still he only teases, a playful touch, a brief rough pinch, a soft caress watching my eyes closely, seeing through them into my soul, my hopes, my lust, and my desires.

He takes my hands in his and then slowly places them on my chest. My own touch excites me even more, knowing that his can attend to other things.

“Close your eyes” his voice instructs me. And with one last glance before shutting them not only is he mine but I am with out a doubt entirely his.

“No peeking” I murmur my consent to those terms all the while wondering what he has planned. And then again his hands are gone. I can feel him, still so close. A shuffling step, a rustling sound, something sliding, every sound amplified, each sensation heightened, I am so very alive. Standing there eyes shut and waiting.

My eyes open! I’m startled as the wax hits my chest, its running over my breasts as he continues to pour I start to come. Our eyes meet and he touches me again, roughly, pinching, my legs quiver, our lips meet, our tongues dance, his hands wonder south and send me even deeper into my orgasm.

My screams of pleasure fill the silence of the night…and we’ve only just begun.

Marks, Lines, Bruises, and the locker room

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The Audio features my friend Victoria  and can be heard by visiting the podcast “Exercising My Demons”

or on the pickle player above

Now not that I have anything against nudity, usually some of the most fun things involve varying states of nakedness. Play clothes can be part of a very fun filled life, what’s better than dressing up and pretending to be something you usually aren’t. After all how many times can a girl really act like an angel, I tell you this its far more often than most of us get to act like the devil…in public anyway. You have to keep up appearances you know!

Unlike a fishnet cat suit and dangerously high heels that lacks any modesty at all or a sexy police officer out fit equipped with real cold shiny steel hand cuffs that get put to good use there all those other lovely little things that go along with a little rough sex.

Just like the clothes those delightfully wicked little thing can be put away, carried from here and there discreetly in a bag so other than the TSA on occasion most people have no idea they’re even there…let alone what to do with them. Though I believe a lot more people know than would ever let on!

Well every so often after a particularly fun weekend the after effects get worn for a few days. It is part of the fun, the subtle reminders, after all you earned those stripes right. If you didn’t struggle against the ropes why even use them to tie up your hands…or other things.

So a line here, a splotch there, marks are just another way to savor play that has passed and gives a little something delicious to look forward to next time.

So unless you happen to live at a nudist colony or like getting frisked by larger burly public servants before taking a ride down town and risking getting your picture in the local paper for being a deviant chances are none of use are seen naked by strangers all that often.

Well except for the locker room, oh sure there are curtains and a dressing area’s just outside the showers which are great if you don’t mind a puddle of questionable water around your feet as you get dressed.

Or remember to use them.

On one day in particular you can feel the eyes looking you with out even turning, gawking at your legs, or more so a little higher on your back side as you slip into your jeans.

You begin to wonder nervously if there are symmetrical lines across the middle of your back or where they were all fastened together. Your mind races as to what else they might be seeing that you had forgotten about and as you finish dressing the red rings around your wrists from where you pulled you little heart out screaming in delight are all too obvious. Glowing like Rudolf’s nose of a foggy Christmas eve.

So what’s a girl to do as she turns to find Susie home maker there looking on in horror? Try to explain? Like she’d believe you! Stop going to the Gym on Monday’s? Not a chance. Try to make her understand, well that seems to be the answer.

As I smiled devilishly, rubbed my wrists, and offered a polite ” have a good night.”

To which she awkwardly said “you too”

Coyly playing back “oh honey you have no idea how good really will be.” She blushed as my deep blue eyes met hers one last time before rounding the corner.

Discussing a lifestyle event with strangers

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This is a repost after the crash and loss of the previous site.  Hopefully the perma links match

Look by day I may have an edge but I don’t exactly take the tools of my wicked little trade in my carry on luggage as I head out to the airport every week. Which reminds me of a story about a weekend trip to Mexico and a suitcase filled with toys…I’ll save that one for another time but the moral of the story was the woman in Mexican custom’s was very embarrassed and it was my suit case.

Even if I did walk around with an assortment of sadistic little things there’s a chance I could be a sales manager and the numbers are down but no where near as low as you’re going to be when I’m finished. Sorry got distracted back on topic.

Recently on a flight I fell into a conversation with a nice average looking couple who asked where I was headed and why. My mother told me never talk to strangers but sitting there I ignored that advice and told them Business and blah, blah, blah so I asked them the same question. “We’re coming from a lifestyle event” she eagerly offered.

Well if you’re like me the minute you hear lifestyle event only one or two things come to mind. So immediately I’m interested, I start to file through my brain for events that I know of that are big enough to travel to that might be going on.

Shibaricon – no can’t be it not until May (ironically it starts the same day as my kink week posts start which is pure coincidence)

Beat me in St. Louis…nope not currently going on.

Perhaps an Austin Rope event…Nothing comes to mind. Maybe they’re swingers might be something who knows how many events they have.

Nice people but I start to notice in those few seconds that passed that they aren’t giving off the sexy we like to fuck swingers vibe at all. No I’m not stereo typing but the lady wasn’t eyeing the pretty brunette walking down the aisle and yes I know for a fact that all swingers aren’t Bi. But let’s face it any swinger straight or Bi that I know would have been eyeing her. Hell most of the people on the plane noticed her she was that pretty.

“Oh a lifestyle event” my voice somewhat dismayed as to where to go from here…after all we’re three sentences in to a conversation before a 4 hour flight I don’t want to freak the nice people out by coming right out and asking too many questions like “Oh what’s your Kink?”, “Straight, Bi?” “Top, Bottom, or Switch?” “Rope, Pain, or both?” “Full swap, Soft swap?” you get the picture.

The wife spoke (She was wearing a ring but it is at this point just an assumption) “It was the most amazing weekend, we had so much fun”

A generic enough answer so I inquire “what made it so much fun?”

“We’ve never been to anything like this before.” She pauses, blushes a little and fumbles for words. I think it’s about to get good. Now I know how I’d answer the question in the situation, generically.

“It was a couple’s only event.” She finally admits. Now unless I’m wrong couples Vanilla and Kinky do on occasion go away for the week end. A few nights in a hotel, new places, old and new friends, too much wine, a few clubs, perhaps a couple of games of chance, or other games. I’ve also been told there are museums, fairs, antique road shows or what ever it is that all the couples do who aren’t out getting liquored up and partying when they go away.

Needless to say there was nothing wrong with a couple’s weekend event. So I Pushed a little…”You said it was a lifestyle event.” I should have stopped “what kind of life style?”

What are the odds that I’ve met a kinky couple on the plane…low right? But I had to know. “Well” she said her husband by now staring mindlessly out the window, which is never a good sign.

“It was to reenergize our relationship and bring back the romance by including the lord in our marriage.” From there she just went on and on. I’m all for threesomes, foursomes, and all out orgies but that was one Ménage trios I wasn’t expecting. I was dying to ask if she now considered her relation ship to be Poly…but figured I’d have to explain it. And then spend the next three hours and forty five minutes with her saving my soul.

Isn’t there a law about people using the term lifestyle event? No? Well there damn well should be. So I sat and listened to her and how much fun it was, the spouse lacked the same enthusiasm…bet it also was a three way he never dreamed of. Odd are he’d have rather spiced things up with the little brunette I mentioned earlier who was still walking up and down the aisle.

Is there a secret hand shake or special way of lacing up ones shoes so I know other like minded people when I see them…you know like guys with rainbow stickers on the back of their cars. I know what that means what do they kinky people have other than lords of acid t shirts, the occasional otk bumper sticker that makes it look like you dig the beach? It might have been better if I listened to my mother and didn’t talk to strangers.

Discussing a lifestyle event with strangers

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This the first of the 24 kink week posts that will run from May 23rd until May 30th. The audio that goes with this story can be found at http://malflic.libsyn.comDiscussing a lifestyle event with a strangers

Look by day I may have an edge but I don’t exactly take the tools of my wicked little trade in my carry on luggage as I head out to the airport every week. Which reminds me of a story about a weekend trip to Mexico and a suitcase filled with toys…I’ll save that one for another time but the moral of the story was the woman in Mexican custom’s was very embarrassed and it was my suit case.

Even if I did walk around with an assortment of sadistic little things there’s a chance I could be a sales manager and the numbers are down but no where near as low as you’re going to be when I’m finished. Sorry got distracted back on topic.

Recently on a flight I fell into a conversation with a nice average looking couple who asked where I was headed and why. My mother told me never talk to strangers but sitting there I ignored that advice and told them Business and blah, blah, blah so I asked them the same question. “We’re coming from a lifestyle event” she eagerly offered.

Well if you’re like me the minute you hear lifestyle event only one or two things come to mind. So immediately I’m interested, I start to file through my brain for events that I know of that are big enough to travel to that might be going on.

Shibaricon – no can’t be it not until May (ironically it starts the same day as my kink week posts start which is pure coincidence)

Beat me in St. Louis…nope not currently going on.

Perhaps an Austin Rope event…Nothing comes to mind. Maybe they’re swingers might be something who knows how many events they have.

Nice people but I start to notice in those few seconds that passed that they aren’t giving off the sexy we like to fuck swingers vibe at all. No I’m not stereo typing but the lady wasn’t eyeing the pretty brunette walking down the aisle and yes I know for a fact that all swingers aren’t Bi. But let’s face it any swinger straight or Bi that I know would have been eyeing her. Hell most of the people on the plane noticed her she was that pretty.

“Oh a lifestyle event” my voice somewhat dismayed as to where to go from here…after all we’re three sentences in to a conversation before a 4 hour flight I don’t want to freak the nice people out by coming right out and asking too many questions like “Oh what’s your Kink?”, “Straight, Bi?” “Top, Bottom, or Switch?” “Rope, Pain, or both?” “Full swap, Soft swap?” you get the picture.

The wife spoke (She was wearing a ring but it is at this point just an assumption) “It was the most amazing weekend, we had so much fun”

A generic enough answer so I inquire “what made it so much fun?”

“We’ve never been to anything like this before.” She pauses, blushes a little and fumbles for words. I think it’s about to get good. Now I know how I’d answer the question in the situation, generically.

“It was a couple’s only event.” She finally admits. Now unless I’m wrong couples Vanilla and Kinky do on occasion go away for the week end. A few nights in a hotel, new places, old and new friends, too much wine, a few clubs, perhaps a couple of games of chance, or other games. I’ve also been told there are museums, fairs, antique road shows or what ever it is that all the couples do who aren’t out getting liquored up and partying when they go away.

Needless to say there was nothing wrong with a couple’s weekend event. So I Pushed a little…”You said it was a lifestyle event.” I should have stopped “what kind of life style?”

What are the odds that I’ve met a kinky couple on the plane…low right? But I had to know. “Well” she said her husband by now staring mindlessly out the window, which is never a good sign.

“It was to reenergize our relationship and bring back the romance by including the lord in our marriage.” From there she just went on and on. I’m all for threesomes, foursomes, and all out orgies but that was one Ménage trios I wasn’t expecting. I was dying to ask if she now considered her relation ship to be Poly…but figured I’d have to explain it. And then spend the next three hours and forty five minutes with her saving my soul.

Isn’t there a law about people using the term lifestyle event? No? Well there damn well should be. So I sat and listened to her and how much fun it was, the spouse lacked the same enthusiasm…bet it also was a three way he never dreamed of. Odd are he’d have rather spiced things up with the little brunette I mentioned earlier who was still walking up and down the aisle.

Is there a secret hand shake or special way of lacing up ones shoes so I know other like minded people when I see them…you know like guys with rainbow stickers on the back of their cars. I know what that means what do they kinky people have other than lords of acid t shirts, the occasional otk bumper sticker that makes it look like you dig the beach? It might have been better if I listened to my mother and didn’t talk to strangers

Something Wicked

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Here’s my offering of edgy and intense for your own imaginations to run wild with.    If  you’d like the audio version can be heard by click here or by visiting http://malflic.libsyn.com

 

 

Not shaking yet but edging ever closer to that subtle uncontrollable loss of composure she made her was toward the door.  He followed her, merely lingering a few steps behind. His heavy boots causing each long and lumbering stride to call out like the very literal sound of impending doom watching her as it moved closer. 

 

Making her way down the dark hallway bathed in motionless shadows.  Everything had fallen absolutely silent, except for his menacing movements.  Perhaps she just wasn’t hearing a sound as her mind raced playing the look she saw in his eyes over and over again.  A look filled with what could only be described as sinister intent.

 

It sounded so ominous, and felt like the world was watching her as she passed by every set of glaring and damning eyes.   Moving like a nervous and damned woman. She was convinced everyone knew what awaited her on the other side of the door that was now not so far in the distance. 

 

Fear when it takes the place of knowledge and reason it causes a vivid imagination like hers, at first it runs wild and imagines only the worst and then from there twists each and every of those irrational concerns into all consuming fictional possibilities, swimming in the unreal and the infinite uncertainty.

 

Sweat started to form on her pretty little brow, and her legs grew weak as she reached for the door. Fighting back the urge to throw herself on the floor and plead for anything but what she was imagining.  Instead her hand obediently turned the knob and it began to swing open.

 

 

She looked back at him hoping to see a glimmer of mercy in his eyes, there was only a glimmer of something wicked as she then turned to face the music and broke the threshold by stepping into the chamber.  Expecting him to arrive behind her only seconds later instead he called out as he passed.  “You know what to do to get ready.  Hop on up. I’ll be back”   Oh he’ll be back alright and far too soon for her liking as she waited a still growing bundle of nerves for him to return and join her.

 

That time was growing ever closer but not upon her just yet.  And after a few deep breaths and clearing some of the awaiting horrors and torture from her mind, the no so silent screams she believed she heard coming from the next room down.  Wicked little devices drilling away bits of a persons being in all too sensitive area’s.  Some people never seem to learn, and she was one of those.

 

Always well intentioned, starting off on the right foot after each session but shortly there after falling back to her old ways and bad habits.  Habits so engrained and bred out of pure laziness that even the times like these failed to improve or break them.

 

In the hall way the foot steps stopped, menacingly paused in front of her door.  All her sense were ablaze again as she heard another voice along with his and before the reality of the entire situation settled in the door had been opened and she jumped.  Her heart raced and her body shook subtly as he moved towards her.  She wanted him to start if for no other reason than the entire ordeal would be closer to over.  And it being over is the one thing that she wanted most.

 

But instead he took his time arranging the tools of his sadistic trade. A trade that had the guises of helping, of providing not only preventative measure but relief from the pain of things gone awry, no matters who fault it was…even if it was nature playing her cruel hand, or neglect in and of itself. It led to something awful.

 

The awful sounds of the tortured souls that had been off in the distance and next door were gone and as he set the last of his implements down to a clinking, thudding tone.  He looked in to her eyes.

 

She couldn’t see his mouth but as his voiced explained what was going to happen in very eloquent detail, she could feel him grinning behind his mask as he put her into position and reached toward the tray holding his devices.  She opened wide giving in to the inevitable and she could see it in his hand, moving in a unrelenting fashion toward her. 

 

He was about to begin and he was beginning with something wicked.