Feb 072014

A checklist is extremely helpful to anyone involved in the BDSM community, especially those new to it. It’s simply a list of fetishes that you may or may not find interesting. With a good checklist, you can choose activities that you’ve tried and how much you liked or disliked an activity, usually based on a numeric scale. You can also rate each one as hard limits or soft limits.

You can exchange checklists with a potential play partner so that they have all of your desired play information. It’s a helpful way to kick off negotiations before you begin a scene.

The more you play and grow in the lifestyle, you may develop different feelings about what you’ve chosen on your checklist. Feel free to update it! The best checklist that I’ve found is at CEPE. It’s very thorough. You can download it. You can print it.

Feel free with the Q&A!

Nov 122013

The sun lifted and beamed through the two small windows in the room. It penetrated her face in some spots more clearly than others. When she tried to open her eyes, one wouldn’t. It was too swollen closed. The other had an inflamed cut across the eyebrow. She had limited vision. He had punched her in the face.

Her hands automatically went for her eyes. She found her wrists bound, along with her ankles. They were shackled to the small, iron bed she was laying on. The thin mattress that she was laying on was as naked as she was. She wondered if it was as dirty too. The side of the bed pressed against the long wall.  All she had to do was look down the foot of the bed to see him leaned on his shoulder, up against the doorway.

He must have heard the chains rattling. “Morning, pet.” She just lay there, in silence, frozen, and determined. The tension was in an elevator on it’s way to the penthouse.

“Don’t do it.” He shook his head, took his baseball cap off, raked his nails through his hair then re-positioned his cap. It was a habit she recognized. He shook his head again, looking at the floor and talking with one hand, the other still tucked under his arm.

“Are you going to try that thing where you cut yourself off emotionally? Because I think we both remember how well that worked out for you last time.”

“No,” her voice came out like a horse whisper; so she lay her head back, cleared her throat and tried again. “No. I’m just… trying to figure …everything out, and I’m tired and hurt.” She wasn’t in any physical or mental shape to earn his ire.  She didn’t know what was coming next, either.

He swaggered into the room and took a seat on the mattress beside her, then looked to the only other piece of furniture in the room which was a St. Andrew’s cross. He looked back at her.

“This used to be my playroom. Now, this is your room, but I don’t have room for that anywhere else in the house. You want to take a shower, get something to eat, maybe let me look at that eye?”

She warily nodded. He unlocked her feet first and then moved to her hands. She squeaked out an expression of gratitude. Before he unlocked her left wrist her stopped and let his elbows fall to her knees, and his face to the floor. “Thank you… what, pet?”

Her stomach sank. She hoped that by omitting that one word she hadn’t undone herself and his willingness to be gentle, even for as long as it would last.

He flipped her over. The jerk to her body almost jammed her one still chained wrist. One of his hands seemed to put his entire body weight on the side of her face. She could barely breathe. She felt the springs against her cheeks. His other hand slapped her ass until she finally got it high enough for his liking.

She screamed the word “Master,” endlessly. She felt something smooth enter her pussy and she lifted her ass for it. She spread her legs for it. Everything else hurt, but her cunt felt good. He said nothing the entire time, but pulled out before she could finish.

Just like she knew him, he knew her. He let her head up and covered her eyes with his hand, pushing whatever he’d fucked her with into her mouth. She could obviously taste her own juices.

“Clean it.”

She did. He uncovered her eyes.  He held the length of his hunting knife in his hands, inspecting how well she cleaned the butt of it.

She cried.

Oct 292013

Sammy and the GagThe initial request was for the room at the end of the hall, next to the heating and air. That was room 106. He spoke with the manager, made financial arrangements, and the room was theirs.

She arrived shortly after he did. Following unspoken orders, she stripped and proceeded to tighten the gag around the back of her head, tightly. It was a rule that she had to have her gag on her person at all times.

He turned up the T.V. for background noise. They barely noticed that the air-conditioning was out by the time they were focused on each other. The mingling of sweat, tears, and juices made the room smell like sex, and seem to be warmer in temperature for it.  A cold shower cooled them both; and they were on their way.

Shortly after the guests of 106 had arrived, maintenance alerted management that the air-conditioning system for the entire wing was freezing up. The manager sent Sammy to turn the A/C down in every room down the wing, except 106, as it was occupied. When he got to 105, he made his way to the thermostat, but was stopped in his tracts by the sounds coming through the thin walls of the room next door. They had the T.V. on. That wasn’t what caught his attention.

Sammy heard the man’s voice speaking in a heavy tone. He heard the slapping of flesh against flesh. Even through the gag that Sammy was unaware of, he could still hear muffled cries of a female.  His excitable cock sprung to life. He stumbled onto the bed and ripped it from his trousers. He shot his glistening load into a handful of tissues while listening to room 106.

A month went by before Sammy noticed that she had arrived before him. That never happened. She entered the room and Sammy asked another employee to watch the desk while he went to take a piss. He took off in a quick jog towards the direction of room 106. Sammy knocked on the door a few times. He could hear skittering inside.

“Management.  Please open the door.”

She was already undressed and gagged. The knock completely threw her off. She was trying to unhook the back of her gag so she could at least get it down around her neck enough to peek out the door. She wrapped herself up in a towel.

She opened the door only a smidgen. Sammy jammed his foot inside and pushed right passed her. She immediately told him to get out. Sammy closed and locked the door behind him. He turned to her, her gag hanging from her neck. He’d wrestle away her towel, pin and gag her. He would enjoy fucking her for the ten minutes it took him to get off.

She screamed and huffed into a ball that would not hear any of it. Her cell phone was *dinging* with a message saying that He was going to be about twenty minutes late.

Oct 162013

He slung her across the quaint living room. She was received into his stone fireplace like a naked wrecking ball. Her fear was immeasurable. She was inside now, with him. Bruises, cuts, and much more were hushed by adrenalin.  Hyperventilation was never more than a moment away. She shook.

She wasn’t scared of the likelihood that she would forever be locked away in his mountain forest of snares. She was scared because there was no likelihood. Her new station was unequivocal. He would not have done this unless he was completely prepared. She was terrified because she believed him. No one would find her.

She’d suffered him before, but with slipped absolutes and excessive beatings. There was no closure to their prior relationship. She broke free of it. The mental abuse took longer to shake. Now she imagined him, limitless and with no accountability. It was fearfully inconceivable.

She saw a future of torture, masquerading as punishment and lessons. He had unlimited access to who he would decide to mold her into. Her silence was a mixture of how blindingly certain her fate was, and her slow descent into a hole of lost hope. His ability to destroy her mind was starting. She was afraid of it as much as the beatings. Once he was in her head, he was everywhere.  He would own every part of her. He wouldn’t let her go. She pleaded to God and Anyone Listening. He would kill her. He would destroy her mind.

He saw the harsh realization, even in her body. Her eyes became more vacant. She flinched at his touch. He wanted to comfort her. He didn’t want to go through a period of her hating him. He hoped he wouldn’t have to teach her about flinching again. Those were long, hard lessons for her. He hoped that she’d remember some of her time with him. He wanted her to be a good girl for him. She was always such a good girl, but she left him. She ran. They were going to deal with that punishment later.

He wrapped his arms around her. He needed to support her. He knew that she need to process this information and come to comprehend how it would change her future.

He tightened his arms around her. She was shaking. Absorbing the fear and reality, she finally started to cry. She whispered…

“Get the fuck off me.”

He punched her in the face.

Sep 122013


I have an entire drawer of sexy panties. I have panties bought for nasty things. I have the most wonderful, little, white panties that when I held them up to really look at them, I could imagine Daddy rolling them down my ass. I have some that are the perfect material that a little girl would want to feel her Daddy’s fingers through. I have thongs that are cute to wear during play in a dungeon. I have panties that frame out the sweet spots on my ass. Those seem to help the aim of newer spankers. I have some that are purple because those were a past Dom’s favorite color. The same with blue, but I couldn’t ever find many that were blue. Mostly black, and some pink. I like a little frill. I like red, too. Just not too much.

I’m not crazy about panties that have words on them. I’ve only got a few pairs of those. My favorite says “badass” across the ass. I guess I love that pair. I think they’re funny. I’m sure that a D-type, flipping up my skirt to find them, wouldn’t. I’d wear some with my favorite football team on them! I should look for a pair or five of those and put them on my wishlist.

I have panties that are worthless when it comes to teasing. They’re too thin to sop up any of my juices. I have panties that came back to me in shreds. I had panties that never came back. I have panties that I’m going to fit into any day now. I have some that I’m not ready to get rid of yet, like an old t-shirt from college. Most of them were bought to match a bra, which is why that drawer will barely shut, too.

Most of the time, these panties are only worn during certain, or special occasions, which is sad to me. But Monday I decided that I was going to wear them every day. I can wear a tight tank-top or t-shirt, but it has to show my panties. I can change panties throughout the day, if I want to, depending on my mood.

Monday was day one. I wore a pair of my favorites, a black, 50’s inspired, sheer front with frilly sides. They also showed a nice bit of ass cheek.

Tuesday I started with some pink cheeky shorts that dip low in the front, decorated with tiny, white stripes. Then I changed into my “badass” panties once TH and I started talking football. Yeah, I’m going to get some Alabama Football panties.

Wednesday was a black pair that says “Love Me” across the ass. They were cotton. And I stayed within my color regimen on those, going black, pink, and white.  I paired them with a tight, pink t-shirt and a whole lot of sass.


I had fun just writing about this. Changing panties and looking at myself in the mirror brought about a sexier side of my day-to-day life.  I was a little more excited about reaching up on tip-toes to dust, and bending over to get the laundry out of the dryer.


Aug 072013

Daddy2Daddy likes my mouth.

He likes to wrap his hands around my throat and feel his cock in there.

I can remember when I first started snuggling against it. His cock would always get stiff and grow. I would lick it and kiss it. I thought that it hurt him.  But he promised that those were good sounds that he was making. He said I could play with it as much as I wanted. So I did.

When I really starting liking it, Daddy starting feeding it to me. More and more, he fed me his cock. Now my mouth opens when I see it.

I don’t get to play with it anymore. He grunts and pumps it into my face. I swallow everything that Daddy’s cock spits out. He says I’m a natural.


Sultry Saturday

Jul 292013
Jul 212013

A past Dom used to have me put rubber bands around my nipples. At that point in time, I hadn’t heard of that. My nipples got the memo though, Loud and Clear! They still top my list when it comes to clamps and pins. Oh, what a little band can do.



 See who else is being Sinful…

Sinful Sunday

Jun 252013

clothespinI was brand new to kink. I was kinda talking to this guy named Ronnie. He was a good guy. Not a sadistic bone in his body. But he was trying. He had about a nickle’s worth more of experience than I did.

We were on the phone. I didn’t  know if I had any clothespins. We laughed when I hit pay dirt with three of them in my “junk drawer.” I had no idea where they came from. I didn’t even have a clothesline.

Bless his heart. He tried. For all the wrestling that his tongue did with those nasty words. I just wasn’t buying it.

Some girls you just have to put their hands on.

But I did learn how to use my clothespins….