sticky words v.2

He bends me over the bed and spanks me with the metal loop. The pain from this is sting-y and thuddy and radiates from the point of impact to my pussy, to my brain. It is so good, but also so much, and I cry out. No. Stop. I can’t take it.

Sir doesn’t stop, He reminds me that I am taking it and to let go. Ride it. I do. He continues for a while,  but this toy he’s made is some vicious so He stops before I’m ready (or is it long after I’ve had too much?).

I cannot remember if His leash is on me this night, but no matter… He leads me to the rug at the foot of the bed and orders ‘floor’. I assume the position and He begins a new set of blows to my heated bottom. I also don’t recall which instrument He uses here… The cane? The cat o’nine? Flogger? Whip? I was pretty far gone, one moment blurring to the next. The blows stop and He commands ‘humble’. I comply but Sir wants an overarched humble… Putting all of me on display. No hiding the goods in that position! I swallow my embarrassment and He does things with His mouth that about send me over. Before I do, He comments on how wet I am and takes me hard, not on His knees behind me, but doing deep squats from above. As always, this position feels so primal and urgent and dirty (and noisy). I have orgasm after orgasm… Not worried about the carpet burns that are likely on my face, arms, knees. 

When we finish, Sir helps me into bed, and goes to clean up. When He returns, He bends down and recounts everything that just happened, in great, graphic detail. It’s just as hot as when it happened, and I feel the heavenly pressure building. I try to get Him to stop… Sometimes I get a bit self-conscious about all the weird ways I orgasm… But Sir ups the game, using all the dirty words, demanding that I come. And I do. I orgasm from His words alone. It is so fucking good, Sir’s command of my body amazes me. 

Words have power. Words stick (and make slick and evoke explosive reactions), so be careful what you say.


Happy Friday!!! 


sticky words v.1

Sometimes things just stick.

Lids, nicknames, dirt to sunscreen… To name a few. 

Sometimes the things that stick are words. Words you wish you had never heard or read. News stories that break hearts. Presidential candidates that dredge up old feelings and bad times, which had their very own set of words. Sentences proclaiming that you are someone to be warned of. (if that warning has been entertained, heed it! That’s a mountain I cannot climb.)

Those things tumble around and around the depths of your mind, surfacing at inopportune times. Repeated in dreams, stealing your breath in the quiet of day. Days, weeks, months, years later the words pop up to taunt and torture. The words return to remind you of change, of truth, of sorrow. 

Oh, but there are good words tumbling around, too! Those good words far outnumber the bad. Be thankful for that – to have such love and light, to have thoughts that make you smile, memories that warm your soul! Our mind can be such a beautiful place.

But too often, the unpleasant words directly contradict the happiest ones. Though not as plentiful, the words that hurt are big and heavy. Strong and mean, they aim to trample out the good. A constant battle inside your head, who will win today? 

Hopefully the good, the positive! Today, I will work hard to fight the ugly.

Words stick. They cannot be taken back or forgotten, so be careful what you say, but also be careful what you let in.


I urge you to read my next post, about a completely different use of words. 😉