Ordered to lift your skirt

December 29, 2019

During the day you will therefore be dressed, and if anyone should order you to lift your skirt, you will lift it; if anyone desires to use you in any manner whatsoever, he will use you, unmasked, but with this one reservation: the whip. The whip will be used only between dusk and dawn. But besides the whipping you receive from whoever may want to whip you, you will also be flogged in the evening, as punishment for any infractions of the rules committed during the day: for having been slow to oblige, for having raised your eyes and looked at the person addressing you or taking you —you must never look any of us in the face. If the costume we wear in the evening – the one I am now wearing – leaves our sex exposed, it is not for the sake of convenience, for it would be just as convenient the other way, but for the sake of insolence, so that your eyes will be directed there upon it and nowhere else, so that you may learn that there resides your master, for whom, above all else, your lips are intended.

Pauline Réage
Story of O

Such wonderful things in life can start with a cup of coffee –


Commanding and adept your hands guide mine alone supple lips.
She tastes of cinnamon.
She squirms but cannot move.
She is not afraid.
Our hands grasp her neck.
Tonight she belongs to us
With every gasp she moans.
My mouth is quivering, thinking about tasting her.
I search for her thighs from my satin darkness.
They are warm, wet, and inviting like the ocean
she tastes of salt and sunshine.
My tongue glides over her vagina , slowly, tenderly as our body heat rises and
then crack goes the cat o’ nine.
She cannot breathe and I cannot see yet there has been no greater ecstasy.

R A Lee

My Kink

Your eyes are my bondage.
Your kiss leaves me breathless.
Your fingers are my toys.
I submit my body and my heart
For your abuse or adoration.
With you the red bag stays zipped.
Don’t you dare give me a blindfold
Don’t you dare gag my mouth
Don’t put leathers between us.
Only one thing does it for me.
Call it a fetish or call it love.
I just want you.

Hannah Dubrow


What are you going to do,
When you become the wicked?
The sick.
The twisted.
When you can’t manipulate your little girls?
When I get sick of this unrewarding lifestyle,
Living for your word?
What are you going to do,
When you become the wicked?

What are you going to do,
When you lose me?
What girl would still take you?
After all,
All you do is compare her to me.

The wicked,
That’s you.
The submissive,
That’s me.

I’m all you’ve looked for,
I’m the kind of sex you need.

Jacquelyn Audrey Whiston

My Dungeon

build for me a dungeon
let its walls be grim
use me there and often
and keep me locked within

in that darkest prison
you may use me to the full
keep your chains upon me
so I may know their pull

make for me a cage there
for extra close confine
where chill of steel can touch me
and pleasure be refined

keep your whip well oiled there
that I may feel its curl
while I hang in helpless torment
and my mind is in a whirl

let my mind be lost there
where only I may go
to know your deepest caring
while held in suff’ring’s throes

for there I’ll find my heartsease
as your willing prisoner
where bonds will hold you to me
and never let you go

Francesca Anderssen

To Be Powerful

On my knees
Legs pressed together
You hold my wrists
Above my head
With one hand
Lips parted
Tongue working
Face buried
In your free hand

I lick your palm
I taste your salt

Is everyone nervous
Their first time?

I lap it up
You cup your hand
Shove it in my face

“Tell me you love it”
“Tell me how much
You fucking love it”

This is a game we play
On Tuesday nights when we
Are too broke to eat out at my
Favourite Thai restaurant.

If I’m a good girl
You will pat my head
Kiss my cheek

Catalina Lopez

An unfortunate truth - Love hurts

She desires to inspect my bruises, the marks of her whip across chest, belly and thighs. Already they are rainbowing like pieces of peacock tail; I feel like a fruit which has been bruised in order to ferment. She is pleased by the sight, especially the raw welts on my cock. She says, ‘Love hurts, doesn’t it,’ then smiles and walks slowly away.

View of the guest room bed

February 28, 2016


Christmas gift idea for her

December 19, 2015


Saturday toys

barbieandken atitagain

Whipping my body…

June 21, 2015


And she had me walk over here at the base of the cross and she said, “Now strip your clothes off.” And I took my clothes off down to my waistline. Then she made me drape my body over the foot of that cross and she pulled my hands underneath and bound them to my feet. That’s where I’m going to spill my blood. She had not told me how, and neither could I ask how I would spill it. She gave two little nuns that came with her, a flagellation whip. I might call it a bamboo pole. It’s about this long, it’s about that big around, and it has six straps on it about this long. On the end of either (each) of those straps there’s a crossed piece of sharp metal. And those little nuns, each was given one of those whips and they stood on either side of the cross. At the same time those girls began whipping my body. And I mean when that metal hit my body it would break the hide of course. It would cut into the flesh and I spilled blood. It was running down to the floor. That’s my flagellation whipping. That is where I spill my blood as Jesus did upon Calvary. And of course I’m human, it wounded, it hurt! It was very painful.

The personal testimony of Sister Charlotte, ex Roman Catholic Nun, February, 1947, about her experience of convent life.


“Yet I had not bargained for this, the girl with tears hanging on her cheeks like stuck pearls, her cunt a split fig below the great globes of her buttocks on which the knotted tails of the cat were about to descend, while a man in a black mask fingered with his free hand his prick, that curved upwards like a scimitar he held. The picture had a caption ‘Reproof of curiosity.”

Angela Carter
The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories