Oct 242014

Yesterday I was on my Fetlife account. I was scrolling through someone’s pictures. One popped up with the caption “Daddy’s new prize for me!” Her new prize was a bit. It was covered in some type of yellowed, plastic-ish thing. What… wha… o.O. So it’s brand new, and it’s yellow-ing-ish. I wish I had the picture, but I wasn’t just going to take it off her page.  I shook that one off and continued to peruse.

The next one was j…j…jelly.


There was no condom.

She was sucking on it.

Grabs my pearls.

And then she put it in her vagina.

All the jelly. In the vagina.

Suck up those phthalates, Darling, suck ‘em up.


Then I realized, there are a ton of kinksters that have no idea what they’re getting into when they buy sex toys. We can tell how well a flogger is made. We examine the falls and the leather. Feel the deer, or bull it might be made of. Even the weight of the thing. We can examine a spanking bench, a single tail, and a bull whip.But some of these same people will yank out a jelly dong because it feel good. Maybe they don’t care. Maybe they don’t know.

I have the most ridiculous thoughts sometimes. Why can’t Lilly make a tiny sex toy gun that I could keep in my pocket. I could shoot the taser at all the toys. The gun would leave the good ones and the bad ones would disappear up in smoke. Seriously, the uneducated need the quick and dirty about what they should and should not be putting in their bodies.

I’ve seen a lot of players who want to use their sex toys on someone else during a scene. Not on me, Sugar. I suggest kinksters begin bringing their own safe, sex toys to be used only on themselves during play. Now I carry every kinky toy that I own, plus any sex toys I might need. I know what I have is safe. It’s clean. Any partner I have can work with what I bring. If they can’t find something in that big box of sin, then God love ‘em.


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.


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….

May 232013

He was parked across the street for thirty minutes. For as long as I’ve been doing this, I’m going to take a guess that he was early and she was late.

A mood, this one was; a stumble and a cuss; a grin and a flush.

They sat in the back. Voices traveled a bit. She was naturally loud. He said “No,” a lot.

I laughed at her. Good heels and nice nails weren’t getting her very far with this guy. At some point, I don’t think she had sweet smile left in her.

When I thought she was going to give in and order a drink in, I’m guessing he shot that down too. My happy hour was starting to straggle in, presented with their liquid gold without need of request. After about an hour, I glanced up and they were leaving. He gave me an easy smile and a wave. It was her, though. She looked like she’d been through the wringer. Mascara smeared with a blinded effort to keep it in it’s carefully applied position, her hair had lost it’s bounce and there was none of the blow-job red that had curled with the trace of her lips.

But she was smiling.


May 202013

Hold downHe came to the door. His knock is not the same.

And the horses are off.

In. Shut. Lock. Bed. Arm. Pin.

“You know how I found you? I followed your scent. I know every bit of you. It’s because I own every bit of you. You’re mine. Mine to do with. Mine. Can you understand that? Can you? I want to make sure. .. I need you to understand. Mine.”

He wasn’t sure what helped pave the way for his release, the freedom to speak to her that way, or the look on her face when he did. Her body language made his cock jump. And he knew; he should have done this the first time his wife asked him.

Dec 092012

FloorHis bare feet padded back and forth. His station was spread out all over the room. Gagged and blindfolded, she could still hear. His footsteps were the only warning that she had. She. Just. Ached. The stingy and the thuddy were gone.

There wasn’t a piece of flesh to mark that hadn’t already started showing its colors. Now we’re done with the first set of tears. There was new life in him. Now on to the sobbing.

He was getting to the real root of his work. Rip. It. Open.

The padding of his feet became a distant sound. He was hitting her faster. Harder. She couldn’t keep up. She was about to cum.