My Writing

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Naked: A softening perspective

I look at myself in the mirror. Naked. From a distance, there's an hourglass shape. Upon closer inspection, however, there are all the faults I'm learning to process. The older I get, the more of them I see. But also, the easier they are to accept. My perspective softens with age. And I become more forgiving.

I stopped looking at magazines years ago. But it doesn't mean I don't inadvertently compare myself to other women. Constantly. And it shines a huge spotlight on my insecurities. My rather ample behind, my softening midsection, my less than perky breasts.

But, when I'm alone, I can usually look past all of that. And I'm getting better at accepting that Daddy finds all of it attractive. All of it. Which sort of blows my mind. I'm also getting better at dressing for the body that I have rather than the body I wish I had.

Acceptance is half the battle right?

So as I stand naked before the mirror, in the full glow of the bathroom lights, I place a hand beneath each breast to lift them. I let them drop and marvel at how changeable they are. When it's cold, the nipples pucker and darken to a shade of brown. But they melt in the heat, becoming weighted by the humidity. They grow dark hairs that I constantly pluck out, because I hate them, But the areolas, on a warm day, are a lovely shade of blush  on a background of pale white skin.

"Zipper" (micro-erotica)

Monday, June 29, 2015

Caveat Emptor

The man in the suit was speaking to them both, "I want you to lie down in front of the window. People will be filing past, and that will give them the best view."

"What exactly do you want us to do?" asked Callie, the shorter of the two, and younger by a few years. Her short curly hair, matched the short curly hair between her legs, which the man was looking at now. She followed his gaze and looked down. "Do you want me to shave it?"

"No. It's fine. Everyone has their preferences, and I'm sure someone will like to see what you've got there. Besides, there's no time."

Emily, who was already shaved hairless as a babe, looked at Callie, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. It's easy money. And you'll be here with me. I'll be fine." Callie looked away.

The man in the suit continued with his brief instructions, "The crowd will begin filtering in around 10. They'll wander past, gaze in...but some will linger, so try to change it up a bit - don't always do the same thing. Don't ever forget you have an audience, and making them happy is what I'm paying you for."

"Simple enough," Callie mumbled, and glanced away. She was obviously afraid, and ashamed.

The man left them alone in the room. They had thirty minutes to prepare for the "show." Emily put her arm around Callie's bare shoulders, "Are you really sure? We can find other ways to pay the rent."

"No. I mean, yes...I'm sure. And no...this is easiest. And no one's sticking their cock in me. I'm safe here."

"You're always safe with me, Callie."

"I know. I just wish we didn't have to work so hard to make it."

"It won't always be this way, Cal. It won't."

Callie looked up into Emily's amber eyes. Emily always tried to keep her up, but Callie hovered just above rock-bottom no matter what Emily did.

"Just keep your eyes on me, Cal."


Callie took her place on the bed, her head just below the dark window. Emily lay beside her, resting her hand supportively on Callie's muscled thigh. It was tense, and Callie's face was cemented into a frown.

"You should smile, Callie. Our tips rely on how happy we make our audience."

"I know," she whispered. "What am I supposed to do? Just fuck myself?"

"Just take your time, Cal. These guys just want to see you enjoy yourself."

"That's rich, Emily. You know that ain't gonna happen."

"You could try, Callie. Just close your eyes."

31 Days to Great Sex (a review)

160 pages
Rating: 2.5 (meh.)

So, I read this book during the month of June. I actually started out with the intention of reading a chapter per day, as it's designed, and incorporating as many ideas as I could to "spice things up" in the bedroom.

But, here's the thing...this book wasn't written for people like me.

Who was it written for? Married, Christian women (and men, to some degree) who have had little experience with sex, see sex as an obligation or as "dirty" and "sinful," and who have no clue who they really married.

That being said, it's not like the book was a complete waste of time...or money (after all, the kindle version is only $4.99).

The book is broken into 3 sections: "emotional intimacy in the bedroom," "physical intimacy in the bedroom," and "spiritual intimacy in the bedroom."

Each day, she shares a little "essay" and then provides a "challenge" for the reader (for the individual and/or the couple).

Here's my breakdown of the days and challenges. It's a bit long-winded, but I actually take notes the entire time I am working to review a book, so, I'll do my best to "consolidate."

Day 1 - Rating your sex life

“Sex is the physical acting out of everything that marriage is. We become vulnerable with one another. We become naked with one another completely--and that means real intimacy. We cherish each other. We protect each other. But we also have a ton of fun together.”

The author shares several little nuggets of “already known” wisdom, like this one...reminders that can be helpful to hear from time to time. I will say that, because the book is geared toward married couples, it assumes that one must be married to feel the types of intimacy she discusses. I don’t feel that is true. I also don’t feel one must be Christian to feel spiritual intimacy. So, there’s that, too. If a reader were simply to take out the word marriage and replace it with “relationship” and then skip over all the religious parts (which I did), s/he would still probably find a kernel or two of good information.

The challenge for day 1 asks that you rate your sex life (scale of 1-10) on a physical level, an emotional level, and a spiritual level, and then describe how you’d like your sex life to look in each of these areas. I actually did this, and also asked Daddy to do it. It was a useful exercise.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

In Bed with Books (Sinful Sunday)

More than once, books have been responsible for my naughty thoughts and actions. They inspire that little twitch at my core, that expands outward to my erogenous zones...most assuredly - my brain being at the top of that list.

While reading in bed the other night...and after being asked to text a pic to Daddy while he was out of town...I took these several shots:

The Contract: week in review

This week, I've been on my home, with the dogs and the kid, just filling up the summer days. Daddy's been gone on a long motorcycle ride with friends.

But he comes home today.

And guess what's waiting for him?

A very horny wife. And I've been a good girl.

It's hard to keep up with my end the D/s bargain when the D is so far way and only really accessible through phone and text. Not that there hasn't been plenty of naughty texting. Even punishment given, received, and carried out.

Masturbation. Check.
Photo of it sent. Check.
Squirting "practice." Check.
No-Panty Friday. Check.
Journaling, exercise/yoga, self-grooming (yep...cleanly shaven and ready to be "used" to the full extent of his wishes). Check.

There was one issue with the phone...and he had me stick something in my ass as punishment and send him a photo as proof. I opted to use a butt-plug and left it in while I did chores, just to be sure it had an impact. It's uncomfortable, and I'm not a fan of it (which is the point, right?), but I have to admit, the fact that I was hyper-aware of the discomfort and that I'd done his bidding so easily proved to me that this time, it is, indeed, different. It truly felt like a punishment. And it proved to me that I have conceded power to him more completely than I ever have. It isn't just an's a reality. I could've stuck my finger in my ass and sent a pic and been done with it, but I chose to do something that would actually feel like a punishment. I punished myself. At his request. It might not seem like much of a breakthrough, but for me, this is a big step, because punishment has always been a question of concern for us. What works, when, how, why? What makes me feel like a submissive (the goal) and what makes me feel like a child (the thing we are trying to avoid)?

We also had a problem with the $$$ while he was gone, as that is now completely his domain, He gave me cash "allowance" before he left. But, I was under the impression that it was what I could spend on "everything" while he was gone...groceries, things the kiddo needed, etc. But, when I was out of money just a few days later and told him I might need a little more, he told me that money was supposed to be for me, not for all the groceries and such. So, I'm pretty sure I completely screwed that up while he was gone. I tried to keep a record of what I spend on me and what I spent on everything else. That will definitely be a place we will need to work, so I don't overspend and so I truly know what money I can spend on myself and what money I can spend on other things. That would have been easier if he were here...that daily check in. So, I assume this will not be a problem not that he'll be home to more closely monitor that. Also, the contract says I must present receipts for checking account and credit card purchase, but what about cash purchases? Do I need to tell  Him everything I'm spending my money on? And if I want to buy things like lingerie or sex toys, does that come out of my allowance? I mean, I think we established that if it is part of the "requirements" (like my nails), it won't come out of my allowance...

Obviously, we're still in the very early stages of living out this contract. In fact, I signed it, officially, the day he left, and he was so busy running around packing and getting ready to go that he didn't sign it. He still has to do that. I'm guessing that will be today.

After sex, that is. I hope. He couldn't possibly deny me that today, could he? Even if he had the resolve, why would he punish himself that way?

Friday, June 26, 2015


You could 

chain me 
to your belt loop, 
dragging me around, 
place to place,
just to be sure that 
I would follow.

But you don't 
have to.

Your gaze is chain enough--
thick, heavy, palpable--
your eyes pull me in,
hold me immobile,
even bid me to move
whichever way you desire.

I could say no to you,
but I won't.

So there is no reason
for chains...

unless it is
your wish
that I be

In which case,
you could tie me up
just for fun,
bend me,
shape me,
touch me,
leave me

You could say no to me,
which you will,
just to prove
that you can.

There is little
I can do
to stop you.

There is little
that I want
to do...


You can be happily "chained" to a person. Or not so happily. me and can need the other so much that when they are away you don't feel "quite right." Your souls are tied...or chained - and there's no set of bolt cutters that's going to break them apart. Seriously, even if you were separated forever, by land, sea, divorce or'd still feel it. That pull. That necessity. 

It's more than love. 

It's life itself.

Indeed...the meaning of life is not 42 (yes...I'm that big of a geek). The meaning of life is connection.

And a set of chains is as good a metaphor for that as any. Because that connection is not always easy, or soft, or happy. It just is and must be. 

"The Magician" (Erotic Flash Fiction)

To this morning, while filtering through my comments, I clicked on a link and found this photo on Liras's tumblr blog.

I am mesmerized. The colors lend it a rather haunting quality, but more than anything, if the picture was intended to be seen in this way (if this is its true horizontal angle), then I'm baffled by the placement of the water and the flouncing of the skirt upward. Soo....let's see where this takes us, shall we?

As for the topic/title? Well, Liras's blog title is "transfiguration," and because I'm nosy and looked at Liras's "blogs I follow," I also found So, the morning has given me the's writing will obviously have to be about change, metamorphosis, transformation, transfiguration....

I did 615 words last week (because I didn't really give myself a limit...I cheated - since it was my first EFF...and because I make the rules so I can break them). From here on out, I'll decrease it by 100 until I get to 100. That will be a very short story, indeed. Then I'll head back to 500. Unless, of course someone wants to shoot me a challenge. By all means, I'm always up for one of those, so feel free. Send me an image. Send me a written prompt. Send me a word limit. Whatever you want. Sometimes being told what to do...being ordered around a very freeing - you could be contributing greatly to my mental and emotional wellness. Yes...I flatter you - but I'll do whatever it takes to pull you in. I can be shameless that way. And as always, feel free to play along. Just link your work in the comments so I can come and see what you've created. Maybe someday, this will turn into a meme all its own. But, for now, I'm happy just to have this little game with myself. I like playing with myself, after all...

The Magician

To test myself, I pull my darling love to the heart of the woods, down a trail worn soft by years of my foot-tread, to a waterfall that strands down the side of a craggy cliff of dark, moss-covered rock. 

We slip off our outer clothes, careful not to ruin our finery, and I take Elizabeth by the hand, pulling her, laughing and shyly resistant up the tiny stairs I have carved over the years.

“I promise it will not hurt,” I implore her with my eyes.

She giggles, but does not look away as most girls would. She wants to be my wife, and believes me when I promise I will not deflower her until then. 

But this...this is different. 

This is magic. And I have to be sure.

Slipping behind the curtain of water, we find ourselves in a shallow cave. I have to raise my voice to be heard above the roar, “I need to remove your corset. To do this right, I have to be able to touch skin, preferably directly above your heart.” 

She gives me a look that says she believes I am just saying this to catch a glimpse of her rather crushed bosom. And while, I cannot lie, seeing them, free from their constraint, is a definite added treat, it is not the reason. I must have access to the energy right below her skin.

After much fumbling and much help from me, her corset comes loose. All that is left is her shift and petticoat. I gently lift the shift over her head, and there she stands, gloriously half-naked and utterly pale in the darkness, the glow from the mouth of the cave creating a subtle halo about her shoulders.

“What is your trick, sir?” she asks, as I survey her form and consider her breasts, the youthful nipples hardened and erect in the coolness of the cave.

I step toward her and place my hand in the space between her breasts, “May I?”

She nods once. Beneath my hand, I can feel the rhythm of her life. I can read her state-- nervous...questioning. But not afraid. She trusts me.

“Close your eyes.”

I place my other hand over her eyes, close my own, and will her to sleep. Within moments, I feel her head fall and her body relax. Under my hand and amidst the crashing vibrations of the water, I feel the electricity. I feel her heart stop. And I feel her body become weightless. The heat travels from her skin, leaving her cold.

Standing back, I open my eyes and watch her lifeless form hover before me.

Looking down at my hands, I marvel at the seed of light in my palm. The intense heat of it. Holding her essence in my hands, I know, that no other man will ever be able to do for her what I can. With this darling love can live forever.


Boo-yah! 500 words EXACTLY! 

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Shameless promotion on memes is annoying.

I'm just going to say it. Probably, someone will be offended...but I'm going to say it anyway. As a blogger who struggles with "networking"...getting out there and making contacts, commenting, replying to comments...I have to say that I find it beyond ridiculous when people use excerpts of their prior work or published work to fill the demands of a prompt for a meme. Seriously. When I challenge myself to write to a prompt and then head to other people's blogs to see how they managed to do the same...and I'm met with: "Here's an excerpt from my latest e-book Vampires Eat Pussy at Dawn" and it has nothing to do with the prompt...not only do I not want to read it, but I want to leave them a comment that says, "This isn't the place to plug your book."

Maybe I'm being mean.

But seriously, as a blogger, I love to read REAL people's amateur attempts at writing or their personal experiences rather than some piece of a trite bodice-ripper I wouldn't purchase anyway.

Seriously. There are better ways to advertise than hijacking a meme.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Sexually disabled? disordered? dysfunctional?


a Latin prefix meaning “apart,” “asunder,” “away,” “utterly,” or having a privative, negative, or reversing force (see de-un-2.); used freely,especially with these latter senses, as an English formative:
disability; disaffirm; disbar; disbelief; discontent; dishearten; dislike;disown.




  1. 1.
    speak disrespectfully to or criticize.
    "I don't like her dissing my friends"
  1. 1.
    disrespectful talk.
    "the airwaves bristle with the sexual dis of shock jocks"

(Source: Google Dictionary)


Referring to the city of Dis, from Dante's levels of hell. The city of Dis is the level of hell to which all non-believers, who have not otherwise sinned greatly, will go. The city is surrounded by a field containing countless numbers of burning coffins, in which the heretics lie, screaming. Limbs from non-believers are scattered around the plains, and the city itself is surrounded by thick iron walls.
(source: Urban Dictionary)
Indeed, having any type of sexual "dys" function or "dis" order or "dis" ability can feel like being "dissed" (is that even how you spell it?) by your own body, and taking a solo vacation in the city of Dis. You fall outside of society's norms. You don't fit. You are given a label. Not an excuse, mind you. No one gets one of those...unless, of course, you are disabled in other, more acceptable ways. You know, the kind you can't do anything maybe mental retardation (yes...I know there are more politically correct ways to say that now...more positive, inclusive ways - like "mentally challenged"), or you no longer have the use of your limbs ("differently-abled"), or you are dumb (not stupid..."mute!"). For those with sexual "issues," we face labels like "impotent," "hormonal," "frigid," "cold," "broken," "abnormal." Sex research has come a long way since Freud and  Kinsey...but because sex comes in so many forms and variations, is born of so many influences and motivations, and leads to so many experiences, much confusion and misinterpretation, it still eludes much of the human race, including the doctors. 
We know the biological function of sex. Put peg A in slot B and voila!: baby. 
If no baby...well...peg A or slot B is broken. Impotent? A man is no longer a "man" by much of society's standards when slapped with this label. Barren? What did she do for God to smite her so? Whore. Now she'll be a spinster. Maybe an old maid. Or just a disappointment to herself and the man that is now stuck with this poor, sad woman. Or he'll divorce her and find a nice lady who can bare him many sons. Or they'll adopt beautiful Ethiopian children and she'll smother them with affection to bury her guilt and insecurity.
Yah, we're more progressive than that. Aren't we? Or are we? I'm not so sure. I hear the jokes. The comments said in "jest." 
Even worse than a man or a woman who has a medically proven reason for their label is a man or woman whose sexual "dysfunction" or "disorder" or "disability" is hormonal or, worse yet, mental or emotional. 
Now, not only is the poor sap or unfortunate dame "broken," he or she is also likely sporting an ailment that is "all in his or her head." 
They used to call it hysteria...covered pretty much all the bases when doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with a woman.
Then, they decided you just needed the sea air, and sent you to the coast for the summer.
And now, since it's a booming business, they send you to specialists, counselors, therapists, and give you medications for all sort of things (because they really don't know the cause). 
We've really made little actual progress in the world of sexual dysfunction. Oh sure...there's Viagra...and there are hundreds of supplements that claim to "boost your libido," thousands of self-help books, and mental health professionals have made careers out of our suffering. Honestly, I'm sure the majority of them mean well. Not the drug companies, mind you...but the professionals and the doctors. 
It's hard, though. For them...and for make heads or tails of it. It's hard not to look at ourselves as broken. It's hard to trust the Ups when you constantly fear the Downs. 
It's hard not to feel "apart," "asunder," "away," or "utterly" lost.
Luckily, I'm on an Up right now. But, I never know what is waiting for me around the next corner. I live daily with the fear that, at any moment, for no reason that anyone I know can provide, I may just stop wanting sex
Depressed. Bi-polar. Crazy. 
Doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists. Wellbutrin. Lithium. Estrogen. Progesterone. Testosterone. Tests. Tests. Labs. Tests. $$$$.
Yoga. Mindfulness. Concentrate. Relax. If you weren't so stressed. So OCD. So ADD. So high-strung. So type-A. Such a control freak.
Counseling. Mindfulness training. Just focus! Relax. De-stress. Go on a vacation. Figure out your "attachment issues." Questions about my childhood. What am I hiding? What am I afraid of? Dig deeper. Find the answer. It's in there somewhere!!!! 
Apparently, if I could just look far enough inside myself, I could cure my own dis-ease.
They make it sound so easy.
Ultimately, the message is that something is wrong with us. Somehow, we aren't "right," which makes us, necessarily, "wrong." We must be "fixed." Because we are "broken." 
It's a frustrating place to be. 
What we are told we should be by society:
What we are often a society:

What we should be experiencing:

And...since I'll be experiencing none of these for the night (Daddy's still off in a warmer clime...enjoying the wind in his hair and the sun on his helmet's visor...)...I'll head off to bed, peaceful, for the time being, in the knowledge that, for now, I wish he were here so I could fuck him. he could fuck me. Or...well...whatever way it would happen - we'd be fucking right now. 
(Pouty face.)

Monday, June 22, 2015

What I would do with you...

I wish I could catch you with your eyes closed, in the mussed up, white cotton sheets, doused in early morning sunlight, your hand wrapped around your erect cock, massaging yourself to ecstasy. I know it would take awhile. And I know you would be less excited about the outcome than if you were coming inside of me. But...I like to watch your hand move...slowly at first...then faster, the skin of your shaft pulling up over the head like it was made especially for that purpose.

I'd smile as I tip-toed to the foot of the bed, as quiet as a breeze. And as soon as my hands pressed into the mattress, you'd start, your eyes wide, caught in the act. But then you soften, and smile. You might put your hands behind your head, silently telling what you expected with your eyes. That slight lowering of the lids. The hint of a smile. I would know what you wanted.

If I were there, I would wrap my hand around yours and feel the muscles in your fingers working. And then I might take over. I might move your hand out of the way, placing my own around the base of your dick...maybe hold and caress your balls for a few seconds...maybe kiss them...lick them. And I'd probably take the head of your cock into my mouth, taking all of you in to moisten your skin with my spit so I could work my hand up and down without pulling your skin. I'd try to mimic the speed of your earlier movements, finding a rhythm that would make your eyes roll back...that perfect tempo that draws a moan from deep in your chest, like a deep rumble that you breathe out in a sigh.

When you began to writhe, I'd likely move on top of you, lying my naked body on yours, letting my weight press my breasts against your hot chest. I'd kiss your neck, nibble your ear lobe, and maybe whisper something like, "How do you want me to fuck you today, Daddy?"

You'd likely move your hands to my hips, pushing me up and guiding me slowly down onto your hungry cock. The subtle movements of your fingers would drive me left and right, forward and back, my skin well-trained to listen to the demands of your touch.

I would move more quickly to match the increased speed of your breath, rocking back and forth on your cock, feeling it hit the spot that makes me melt, over and over, until I'd spill my release. You'd feel it dripping across your balls, soaking the sheet beneath you.

And you'd come.

With your hands grabbing my thighs, you'd groan and pulse, your abdominal muscles tightening, forcing your breath to become quick and shallow.

I'd relax my weight onto you, run my hands through the hair on your chest, and smile.

If I were there, that's what I'd do.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Happy Father's Day!

May there be much losing of panties after the kids go to bed...after all that's what made you a father in the first place, right?

(I never understood this line of panty-dropping pin-ups...Mr. Policeman is scratching his head over it,too. Probably wondering why on earth she can't buy panties that fit.)

Sinful Sunday

All the lines of all the things that bind us during the day criss-cross from place to place on our bodies, creating a map of constriction. Those faint indentations in our skin. Beside them, in-between, and beneath are the marks of our lives. The stretch marks on our breasts and bellies and thighs that say we have been given birth and nourished our young. The bruises and callouses that say we have worked hard. The scars that say we have risked and challenged ourselves. The tattoos we have placed there to decorate and liberate.

Our bodies are beautiful canvases that are only clean in the womb. They begin taking on the imprints of our choices and experiences the moment we slip from our mothers. Every cut, hand print, gash, freckle, burn...everything we do to it - it retains the story of that moment.

Saturday, June 20, 2015

Boring Accountability Post

So, I officially signed it today. After being asked to review it be extremely sure I was good with everything it contained. I read back through it several times, made a few revisions and asked if they were okay...asked a few questions for clarification...mainly to be sure that "anywhere and anytime" didn't mean - in front of my boss at the staff Christmas know, that sort of thing. But, mainly, it comes with the implicit trust that He won't abuse his power or put me in a situation that would compromise my professional or family life. And I do. Because this isn't all about POWER. It is about trust...testing it and making sure it is strong. And it is about love. And personal challenge. And letting stress go. I'm a control freak in many regards, and this takes that control out of my hands. It takes the responsibility out of my hands. But it puts a whole different kind of responsibility in its place...a kind that requires my emotional commitment.

I made a checklist on my phone (Google Keep is awesome for this), as the contract designates I must (because He knows how forgetful I am and how much I love lists). I made a list for "daily," "weekly," and "monthly" least until things become more habitual - which is the point right?

I'm not having any trouble with things I was already doing, but I'm sure some of the newer things will provide a challenge. I folded his socks today, which I never do (because I hate it), simply in an effort to take better care of him. But then, I have more time right now to think about things like that. Vacation always allows me more time to focus on what matters. The real challenge will begin when I return to work and have to manage my own stress along with the contract.

But let's not think about that right now. Let's focus on the positives, shall we?

I've made it through 'no-panty Friday' even though he wasn't here to enjoy it. I've hosted a dinner, and will be hosting another tomorrow. I've journaled, I've blogged. I've texted him tantalizing pictures. I'm getting back on my yoga schedule tomorrow morning. And I'm reflecting on the contract today.

It's early yet, but it's still much different than it's ever been.

Daddy leaves for 5 days soon. And I'm not looking forward to it. It's putting me in a foul mood, but I'm trying to pull myself out of it and not pout. I want to enjoy the time we have together and treat it as sacred. Not that I want to think that something horrible could happen while he's away...but let's be could...and I wouldn't want to have spent my last 2 days with him pouting and being a brat. I guess I'm also a little jealous that he gets to go and do something fun, and I'm stuck at home doing chores and parenting. It's not like he keeps me locked up here. He'd encourage me to go somewhere with my friends if we could afford it. But...there just hasn't been an opportunity. I suppose I could create one, right?

Anyhow, there's my boring accountability post. A weekly check-in with myself to see how things are going. And so far...they're going okay.

Friday, June 19, 2015

I miss FFF! So welcome to EFF!

So, there. I said it. Writing those photo-inspired, tiny little stories was fun...and sometimes sort of hard. AND, because I wasn't the one picking the photos, well - it challenged me to work with materials I wasn't ready for. That meant the stories that came out of me weren't necessarily what I would have expected. So, in order to continue challenging myself. I'm going to create my own FFF challenge. If there are 4 Fridays in a month...the first Friday I'll write 400 words of less. The 2nd Friday I'll write 300 words or less...the 3rd Friday 200 words or less...etc.

The photos? See, that's the hard part. Because I'll be picking them, there will always be a bit less challenge. But, I figured, I'd go with the photo that grabs me first and run with it. Or maybe readers could email me photos? That''d be fun, too.

Anyway, I'm not about to try and start a meme. My readership isn't that large yet. But at least I'll be back in the flash fiction writing business. And so as to not step on anyone's toes, I'll be calling it EFF (Erotic Flash Fiction).

So, here's the first story...But since it's not the beginning of the month, and I'm just starting out, I'm not giving myself a limit on words this month. Starting June 3, I'll be at 500 words. If you'd like to play along, feel free. Just post a link to your story in the comments.

Statue found in Jeju Loveland (Sexy South Korean Theme Park)

Forever Perfect

By the edge of the pool, the young woman slowly took of her clothes, licking her lips and gazing up, shyly, at the king. He nodded in acceptance of her offering.

Naked, she began to dance, her movements small at first, becoming fluid and more exaggerated as she gave up her inhibition. She knew what she had planned would seem insane to her friends and family, but for a young girl of lesser origin, she was aware that her only path to fame, and her daughter’s only path to fortune was this.

She licked her fingers and began to touch herself. The musicians, the servants, and the audience, the few courtesans and friends of the king who had remained this late into the night, seemed bored by her performance, and many looked away, shaking their heads and feeling sorry her.

But the king’s eyes flashed the sparkle of desire, and that was all the encouragement she needed. It wouldn’t be long now, and she could accept the sneers and silent jeers from the crowd.

She placed both her hands on her breasts, holding them up in offering. Pinching each nipple as she moved her hips, she moved as close to the king’s feet as she could. She went to her knees and crawled toward him, her breasts swayed between her arms with each movement forward. Her eyes locked with the king’s, and she could tell that he was willing, that he wanted her. She hoped that he would give in to his desire.

On her knees before him, inches from his feet, for that is as far as the guards would allow her to go, she sat back on her heels, her legs spread, and began to massage her cunt to glistening wetness. It sparkled like gold in the firelight beneath her circling fingers. Arching her back slightly, putting her other hand behind her as support, she bent backward, pushing her body upward to better expose herself to the king.

He leaned forward, and her chest tightened, her breath catching in her throat. He would do it. He would touch her. She could feel it.

To encourage him, she slipped her fingers inside herself, bending back as far as she could, pushing up on to her feet, using her head as a support. She brought one hand to her breast, and continued manipulate her clitoris, letting the little bud flower under the approving look of the king.

The difficult position was hard on her body. The marble, hardly a soft pillow for her head, was slick, and she could feel herself slipping.

Just then, the king’s hand touched her own, moving it aside, and he bent down to taste her youthful sweetness. After all, though a king in title, he was still a man.

With the touch, she smiled in relief and felt the hardening commence, just as she began to come, his fingers inside of her, his tongue on her blossoming flower. A few tiny drops of her nectar fell to the ivory-colored marble below.
The king, swiped them up with his fingers and brought them to his mouth. One last taste of sugar from the beautiful offering before him. Bittersweet, really, to know that this was the only kind of gratification he would have again. He felt the telltale twitch between his thighs, and with sadness, watched the her transform before his eyes. Skin, once pink with the heat of desire and release, turned to gold beneath his touch. Like everything else.

He told his servants to leave her hardened form right where it was...her body, contorted in mid-orgasm, forever perfect.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

The Contract is Complete!

I, [           ], with a free mind and an open heart; do request of [           ], that He accept the submission of my will unto His and to take me into His care and guidance, that W/we may grow together in love, trust and mutual respect. The satisfaction of His wants, desires, and whims are consistent with my desire as a submissive to be found pleasing to Him. To that end, I offer Him use of my time, talents, and abilities. 

Further, I ask, in sincere humility, that, as my Master, He accept the keeping of my body for the fulfillment and enhancement of O/our sexual, spiritual, emotional, and intellectual needs. To achieve this, He may have unfettered use of my body any time, any place, in front of anyone; to keep or to give away, as He will determine. 

I ask that He guide me in any sexual, sensual, or scene-related behavior, both together, with, and separate from Him, in such a way as to further my growth as a person.

I request of [           ], as my Master, that he use the power vested in His role, to mold and shape me, assisting me to grow in strength, character, confidence, and being, and that He continue to help me to develop my artistic and intellectual abilities, as well as my health and financial responsibility.

In return, I agree:

To obey His commands to the best of my ability.
To strive to overcome feelings of guilt or shame and all inhibitions that interfere with my capability to serve Him and limit my growth as His submissive.
To maintain honest and open communication.
To reveal my thoughts, feelings, and desires without hesitation or embarrassment.
To inform Him of wants and perceived needs, recognizing that He is the sole judge of whether or how these shall be satisfied.
To strive toward maintenance of a positive self-image and development of realistic expectations and goals.
To work with Him to become a happy and self-fulfilled individual.
To work against negative aspects of my ego and my insecurities that would interfere with advancement of these aims. 

With this, I do agree to the following:

Group 1, outlets and wellness

I will set aside time every day for journaling/writing and meditation. There is never to be a day that passes when I do not journal and/or meditate without the Dominant's permission;
I will keep my blog going, writing even when I do not want to; I will not neglect "Brigit";
I will attend my yoga classes twice a week and will ask beforehand if I am to be absent. Other exercise may be substituted for yoga.
Group 2, sexuality
I must act in some way upon on ANY sexual thoughts, finding and embracing my inner slut;
I must text the Dominant and send a photo whenever I masturbate;
During masturbation, I will practice my ability to squirt; at some point in the future I will need to demonstrate this ability to the Dominant when he asks me to do so. I will share my progress with the Dominant weekly, either through writing or orally;
I must sleep naked anytime the Dominant is in the bed with me;
I will keep myself clean shaven at all times;
Friday is “no-panty day” and no undergarment may be worn on this day, even at work;
Once a month I will host a dinner, for the Dominant, in lingerie, without question. If the Dominant wants to host friends from the short list, he may, when he feels it is appropriate;
I will send pictures and/or videos, of a sexual nature, to the Dominant at the rate of at least 1 per week. This clause is not connected to my duty to send a photo when I masturbate. I need only send a photo or video that I think the Dominant will enjoy. The source of the media may be whatever I choose (homemade or not);
I will watch or read video or literature of a pornographic nature and share those items that produce a positive or sexual reaction so that W/we may explore it together.
I will, as an act of sexual service and self-reflection, find ways to chip at my existing sexual inhibitions. I will place myself outside of my comfort zone once per month. The acts need not be monumental, but they should be well-planned and a product of my personal sexual growth and introspection;

Group 3, service acts

I must keep my phone charged, on my person at all times, and answer it, the only exception being for professional reasons;
On days when the Dominant is home in the morning (and awake) I will make Him coffee. On days when the Dominant is home during the evening, I must ask to fulfill his drink requests;
I must host or arrange another dinner once a month for friends (in a vanilla fashion). The Dominant can cook, but the arrangements must be made by the submissive. The dinner may be at home or at the other party's residence;
I will keep the Dominant's back clean-shaven;
I must keep a copy of this contract and review it once per week, reflecting on its meaning and what personal growth or change derived from it that I have identified in the past week;
I will begin serving under this contract by making a checklist of the weekly and monthly requirements so as not to forget or neglect any of them;

Group 4, domestic topics

I will maintain my appearance with proper hair, makeup, and nails;
I will keep the house in clean, orderly fashion;
I must respect the Dominant's wishes when He tells me to stop being domestic and to sit;
I will leave the Dominant written lists of domestic tasks that I need help with;
I may buy necessary items for the household at any time, however, frivolous items or those not on a pre-approved list, or necessary for daily life, must be cleared with the Dominant;
I must continually check with the Dominant as to the current state of the finances so that I am aware;
I will be issued a weekly allowance, with the amount varying to reflect account balance and behavior;
Any time I make a purchase, I will present the receipt to the Dominant, without fail; this is to include checking account or any credit card purchases;
Punishment and Reward

Violation of group 1 (outlets & wellness) will be dealt with by conversation and stern looks of disappointment. Continued and/or repeated lapses will be grounds for termination of this contract.

The reward for this section is intrinsic and not material.

Violation of group 2 (sexuality)  will result in being sexually subjugated in whatever way the Dominant sees fit. It could come in the form of being tied and photographed, use of the violet wand or something else the Dominant deems appropriate. It will not always be fun, as this is punishment. Continued and/or repeated lapses will be grounds for termination of this contract.

Rewards being: sloppy wet orgasms, shopping for lingerie and toys, or other things to be determined by the Dominant. Also, and most importantly, I will receive the approval and contentment of the Dominant, for this is an area that is extremely important to the harmony of this arrangement.

Violation of group 3 (service acts) will result in revocation of allowance, forced meditation, self-reflection documented in the form of an apology letter, sexual subjugation as described above, or corporal punishment.

Rewards being: the receiving of my allowance, as these are my “relationship chores”. Repeated acts that go above and beyond these will earn extra money, books, shopping, date nights, and/or random gifts from the Dominant.

Violation of group 4 (domestic topics) will result in revocation of allowance, forced meditation, self-reflection documented in the form of an apology letter, sexual subjugation as described above, or corporal punishment.

Rewards being: the receiving of my allowance, as these are my “domestic chores”.

I understand that this contract is a new experience and a trial, however it is not a living document. This contract will be good for three months from the date of finalization, at which time it will be revisited and can be modified. 

My surrender as a submissive is done with the knowledge that nothing asked of me will demean me as a person, and will in no way diminish my own responsibilities toward making the utmost use of my potential. In recognition of my family obligations, nothing will be required of me that will in any way damage or harm my children, nor interfere with the performance of my duties as mother and as wife. Neither will it put my professional life in jeopardy in any way.

This I, [          ], do entreat, with lucidity and the realization of what this means, both stated and implied, in the conviction that this offer will be understood in the spirit of faith, caring, esteem and devotion in which it is given.

Should either of U/us find that our aspirations are not being well-served by this agreement, find this commitment too burdensome, or for any other reason wish to cancel, E/either must do so by verbal notification to the O/other, in keeping with the consensual nature of this agreement. W/we both understand that cancellation means a cessation of the control stated and implied within this agreement, not a termination of O/our relationship as friends and lovers or husband and wife. Upon cancellation, each of U/us agrees to offer to the other H/his or her reasons and to assess our new needs and situation openly and lovingly.

This agreement shall serve as the basis for an extension of O/our relationship, committed to in the spirit of loving and consensual Dominance and submission with the intention of furthering self-awareness and exploration, promoting health and happiness, and improving both O/our lives.

I offer my consent to submission to ______________________________ under the terms stated above on this the ________ day of _____________ in the year ________.

Signature of submissive

I offer my acceptance of submission by ______________________________ under the terms stated above on this the ________ day of ______________ in the year ________.

Signature of Dominant

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Dear Daddy (re: The Contract)

Dear Daddy,

I've been doing so well lately, but all of the sudden, in the past few days, I've been feeling exhausted...and cranky...and I've not been focusing on being the good girl that I should. I've forgotten to meditate, I haven't been mindful, I've gone to bed too late - leaving myself tired.

And I'm still waiting for the contract. Because I need it as a reference

We're busy people, I know. But, you're leaving next week, and I feel sort of "lost." I need a bit of direction. If you want me to find it on my own, that's fine, but I'd prefer a bit of guidance. What should I be doing while you're gone? What are my guidelines? Can I masturbate? Do I get an allowance? Do you have things you want me to write...? 

Over the next few days, I'll be finding my new routine. Summer is always a big transition for me. It's almost like coming down off of a high, and I seem to drop until I can find my new footing. I guess that makes this a good time for the bigger transition (or return, we might say) we're making together, right?

Though you've been rather quiet about it lately, you've made it clear that this is what you want. On a day-to-day basis, however, I don't see it. It doesn't feel any different. Only once have you even asserted your dominance outside of the bedroom, and that was when I questioned why you had me make you coffee when you weren't even going to drink it. You grabbed my ass and told me that your drinking it wasn't the point. You got my attention. And it's what you needed to do...what I needed you to do. It's little reminders like that that keep my head in the game. 

Sure, I do things for myself. Make choices based on what I think you'd prefer. But I'm still the one making the decisions there. I suppose I always am...even when you tell me what to do. I make the choice to follow. But that's just's the choice to follow. And I can't follow if there is no direction to follow. I can't blaze my own path here. 

I know I'm impatient. And maybe you're still just thinking the contract through. But, I'd really like to get it done before you leave. 

Monday, June 15, 2015

The sweetest perfume

Today, I wore a skirt to do housework. Sans panties. And every time I squatted down, knees spread, and felt the cool air kiss my cunt, I couldn't help but smile. A few times, I reached down and touched myself, slipped a finger inside. I wondered if Daddy would notice. I didn't want to tell him, I just kept my mind racing by waiting to see.

It wasn't until mid afternoon, when he needed to take a shower and get ready for work, that he asked me to bend over the edge of the bed so he could fuck me. When he flipped up my skirt and was greeted by a bare ass, he had to have known I'd been uncovered the whole day.

What he didn't know, is that after he fucked me, his wetness still between my thighs, I lay down on the bedroom floor and fucked myself to the sound of the water running in the shower.

My fingers smelled like "us" when I was done. Knowing I'd wash them, I rubbed both wrists across my wet pussy.

Every once in a while, I smell them and smile.