Lillian Nightshade's Blog
March 14, 2014
The Myth of The Multi-Orgasmic Female
Porn stars. Women in romance and erotic novels. Writers for Cosmopolitan Magazine. What do they have in common? The myth that they are the only ones capable of multiple orgasm, with the common assumption that the first and last are largely faking it/lying about it and that it's extremely rare - if not impossible - for the average woman to achieve this. This also comes with a reasonable disbelief in the possibility of fainting or nearly fainting from orgasm, orgasm on command, orgasm without direct genital stimulation and the "rarest" of all, female ejaculation, which I'll cover at another time. The key word in all of this is myth, for that's exactly what it is. To a certain degree, I am speaking from personal experience and the experiences of women I know intimately. To a much larger degree, I am basing this on any number of studies and surveys conducted on the matter.
From HealthCentral.com article Multiple Orgasms
"All women are [physiologically] capable of having multiple orgasms," says Barbara Bartlik, MD, clinical assistant professor of psychiatry at Weill Medical College of Cornell University in New York, NY. So why aren't more women keeping their neighbors awake at night with their moans of pleasure?
"Women, and their partners, don't usually try to have multiple orgasms," says Bartlik. And why aren't women trying? Bartlik chalks it up to no time and no desire. "These days, people are very busy and they just don't have time for sex. When they do have time for sex, they don't have the energy to work for more than one orgasm," she says. They may also feel greedy about looking for a second or third orgasm. It feels like asking for a second or third slice of birthday cake.
"Many women [are] comfortable and satisfied with one orgasm, and they don't want to try for more," says Bartlik, who adds, "Instead of thinking about multiple orgasms as an embarrassment of riches, why not think of them as making up for lost time?"
I especially like that bit about seeing multiples as making up for lost time.
What is a Multiple Orgasm? Multiple orgasms are a series of sequential orgasmic experiences that occur in quick succession. And when it comes to multiples, women have the biological upper hand over men. This is because unlike men, women don't experience a refractory period (the period of time after men ejaculate when they can't be aroused). So women can and do respond immediately after orgasm to more (or hopefully continuous) clitoral, vaginal, and G-spot (that small, raised bump of urethral tissue just inside your vagina along its front wall) stimulation.
We certainly do live in hectic times, with everything scheduled to the last second, always rushing from one thing to another. Is it any wonder that sex takes such a low priority for so many? With our energy going towards so many things, when we do have (or make) the time for sex, we don't always have the time or energy to make the most of it, to really enjoy it. This saddens me, as there are so many little everyday things that could be improved by simply having a better sex life. Multiple studies have indicated a number of health benefits associated with precisely that.
Benefits (From the WebMD.com article 10 Surprising Health Benefits of Sex )
1. Boosts immune system
2. Boosts your libido
3. Improves bladder control in women
4. Lowers blood pressue
5. Counts as exercise
6. Lowers risk of heart attack
7. Lessens pain
8. May lower risk of prostate cancer in men
9. Improves sleep
10. Lowers stress
All of these things have been linked to having a healthy sex life. If one orgasm is good for you, why not take the time and effort to go for more? Too difficult? Impossible? Pure fiction? Read on.
From the kinseyconfidential.org article How Do Women Experience Multiple Orgasms?
Although some women rarely or never experience orgasm, most women are capable of experiencing orgasm – even multiple orgasm. That’s because women don’t have a refractory period like men do, which is the time between one ejaculation and their ability to have another ejaculation.
We don’t fully understand why some women experience multiple orgasms and others do not. In part, it may have to do with expectations about sex and orgasm. After all, even one orgasm is difficult for some women to experience, so some women may be happy with one orgasm and may not even try to have a second orgasm after their first.
Other times, women who orgasm during sex with a partner may find that their partner doesn’t continue with sexual stimulation – such as intercourse or oral sex – and so they may not have multiple orgasms because their partner stops stimulating them.
Partners may stop stimulation because they are tired or because, in the case of vaginal intercourse, they ejaculate more quickly than they might like to. It can therefore be easier, for some women, to have multiple orgasms during self-masturbation.
OK, ladies, truth time. How many of us blame ourselves for our lack of satisfaction in the bedroom, or simply don't speak up because we don't want our partner to feel bad? Mmhmm. Communication is key, people. So, either talk to your partner about your lack of full satisfaction and desire for multiples or start taking some "me time" to explore your own body and find what it takes. You may be thinking 'What's the point? I've always had trouble with orgasms, so why try?" As much as we may like to think we know what we're doing because its our body, that may not always be true. Check out this article for more information.
Still not convinced that "real" women can find multi-orgasmic bliss? Check out these findings from one of Alfred Kinsey's studies.
Sources of first orgasm for females:
40% masturbation
27% coitus
24% premarital petting (not found in chart)
5% nocturnal dreams
3% homosexual
1% other sources (p. 545, Female)
10% of all females in the sample had never reached orgasm in their marital coitus, (footnote, Table 113, p. 408, Female). 39-47% of females reported reaching orgasm in nearly all of their marital coitus, (Table 112, p. 408, Female). About 50% of females had experienced orgasm by age 20; about 90% by age 35. (p. 513, Female)
Multiple Orgasm:
Females: 14% of females in the sample reported regularly responding with multiple orgasms, (p. 375, Female).
Or this: Orgasm in America
Sexually speaking, we women are mental creatures (is it any wonder that written erotica is a female dominanted market?), and in a lot of ways I believe that can make it harder for some to reach multiple orgasm. Even more so when you factor in how society teaches us to see sex and our own sexuality, but that's a post for another time! Getting out of your head can be a key factor in having a truly satisfying orgasm or three. For some, this may mean simply focusing on the task at hand to the exclusion of everything else, for others it could mean playing out a fantasy in their mind. Unfortunately for many, it may take getting past certain hang-ups. I've talked to a number of women who complain about orgasm problems, blaming their partner entirely, when they've never once even tried taking matters in to their own hands. I mean that literally, by the way. General statistics indicate that 70–80 percent of women require direct clitoral stimulation (consistent manual, oral or other concentrated friction against the external parts of the clitoris) to achieve orgasm. Penetration alone may just not do it for you, and there is nothing wrong with that.
Don't be afraid to give it a little rub while he's inside you - chances are, you'll be glad you did! Worried about how he'll react? Honestly, any man who has an issue with you doing what it takes to reach that moment of bliss likely doesn't deserve to be a part of it at all. Is the angle not quite right? Try doggy style - it's much easier to reach that way, and if he's feeling slightly inadequate because of your efforts, at least this way he doesn't have to see it. Look back up at him, bite your lip and moan (genuinely, I'd hope!) and he'll likely forget all about your handy work. If he's all for finding ways to help you enjoy sex more, you can even try using a vibrator - you just may not want to start with anything cock shaped. Some guys take a while to get used to the idea of that.
A little more advice on the subject from Barbara Bartlik, MD:
Learn your body. You have to crawl before you walk; you have to have one orgasm before you can have multiple orgasms. Get to know your body's hot spots and not-spots. This is the essential foundation to sexual response.
Practice. It takes practice (both by yourself and with your partner) to achieve multiple orgasms. It's sort of like learning to have your first orgasm. You have to immerse yourself in fantasy, or do whatever it takes to get you aroused, and you have to use lots of lubrication so that you can keep trying for more orgasms by stimulating all of your genital area, while focusing your attention to your clitoris, vagina, and G-spot.
Slow down, and use lots of foreplay, especially foreplay that focuses on clitoral stimulation.
Get some rest beforehand. Often, experiencing multiples is limited by your lack of sleep. After one orgasm, many women feel relaxed. So relaxed, that they may want to drift off to sleep. But if you are well rested, you can resist that sleep temptation, and work for another orgasm, and another, and another.
After the first orgasm, the orgasms "come" easier. It might take 10 to 15 minutes to reach your first orgasm, but your second can occur in as little as five minutes, and your third in only two minutes. Keep going as long as you're having fun.
When all is said and done, it becomes clear that yes, it is possible for you to have multiple orgasms. It may take a little time and effort, and possibly one of these, however, when it happens, it will be well worth it, trust me.
From HealthCentral.com article Multiple Orgasms
"All women are [physiologically] capable of having multiple orgasms," says Barbara Bartlik, MD, clinical assistant professor of psychiatry at Weill Medical College of Cornell University in New York, NY. So why aren't more women keeping their neighbors awake at night with their moans of pleasure?
"Women, and their partners, don't usually try to have multiple orgasms," says Bartlik. And why aren't women trying? Bartlik chalks it up to no time and no desire. "These days, people are very busy and they just don't have time for sex. When they do have time for sex, they don't have the energy to work for more than one orgasm," she says. They may also feel greedy about looking for a second or third orgasm. It feels like asking for a second or third slice of birthday cake.
"Many women [are] comfortable and satisfied with one orgasm, and they don't want to try for more," says Bartlik, who adds, "Instead of thinking about multiple orgasms as an embarrassment of riches, why not think of them as making up for lost time?"
I especially like that bit about seeing multiples as making up for lost time.
What is a Multiple Orgasm? Multiple orgasms are a series of sequential orgasmic experiences that occur in quick succession. And when it comes to multiples, women have the biological upper hand over men. This is because unlike men, women don't experience a refractory period (the period of time after men ejaculate when they can't be aroused). So women can and do respond immediately after orgasm to more (or hopefully continuous) clitoral, vaginal, and G-spot (that small, raised bump of urethral tissue just inside your vagina along its front wall) stimulation.
We certainly do live in hectic times, with everything scheduled to the last second, always rushing from one thing to another. Is it any wonder that sex takes such a low priority for so many? With our energy going towards so many things, when we do have (or make) the time for sex, we don't always have the time or energy to make the most of it, to really enjoy it. This saddens me, as there are so many little everyday things that could be improved by simply having a better sex life. Multiple studies have indicated a number of health benefits associated with precisely that.
Benefits (From the WebMD.com article 10 Surprising Health Benefits of Sex )
1. Boosts immune system
2. Boosts your libido
3. Improves bladder control in women
4. Lowers blood pressue
5. Counts as exercise
6. Lowers risk of heart attack
7. Lessens pain
8. May lower risk of prostate cancer in men
9. Improves sleep
10. Lowers stress
All of these things have been linked to having a healthy sex life. If one orgasm is good for you, why not take the time and effort to go for more? Too difficult? Impossible? Pure fiction? Read on.
From the kinseyconfidential.org article How Do Women Experience Multiple Orgasms?
Although some women rarely or never experience orgasm, most women are capable of experiencing orgasm – even multiple orgasm. That’s because women don’t have a refractory period like men do, which is the time between one ejaculation and their ability to have another ejaculation.
We don’t fully understand why some women experience multiple orgasms and others do not. In part, it may have to do with expectations about sex and orgasm. After all, even one orgasm is difficult for some women to experience, so some women may be happy with one orgasm and may not even try to have a second orgasm after their first.
Other times, women who orgasm during sex with a partner may find that their partner doesn’t continue with sexual stimulation – such as intercourse or oral sex – and so they may not have multiple orgasms because their partner stops stimulating them.
Partners may stop stimulation because they are tired or because, in the case of vaginal intercourse, they ejaculate more quickly than they might like to. It can therefore be easier, for some women, to have multiple orgasms during self-masturbation.
OK, ladies, truth time. How many of us blame ourselves for our lack of satisfaction in the bedroom, or simply don't speak up because we don't want our partner to feel bad? Mmhmm. Communication is key, people. So, either talk to your partner about your lack of full satisfaction and desire for multiples or start taking some "me time" to explore your own body and find what it takes. You may be thinking 'What's the point? I've always had trouble with orgasms, so why try?" As much as we may like to think we know what we're doing because its our body, that may not always be true. Check out this article for more information.
Still not convinced that "real" women can find multi-orgasmic bliss? Check out these findings from one of Alfred Kinsey's studies.
Sources of first orgasm for females:
40% masturbation
27% coitus
24% premarital petting (not found in chart)
5% nocturnal dreams
3% homosexual
1% other sources (p. 545, Female)
10% of all females in the sample had never reached orgasm in their marital coitus, (footnote, Table 113, p. 408, Female). 39-47% of females reported reaching orgasm in nearly all of their marital coitus, (Table 112, p. 408, Female). About 50% of females had experienced orgasm by age 20; about 90% by age 35. (p. 513, Female)
Multiple Orgasm:
Females: 14% of females in the sample reported regularly responding with multiple orgasms, (p. 375, Female).
Or this: Orgasm in America
Sexually speaking, we women are mental creatures (is it any wonder that written erotica is a female dominanted market?), and in a lot of ways I believe that can make it harder for some to reach multiple orgasm. Even more so when you factor in how society teaches us to see sex and our own sexuality, but that's a post for another time! Getting out of your head can be a key factor in having a truly satisfying orgasm or three. For some, this may mean simply focusing on the task at hand to the exclusion of everything else, for others it could mean playing out a fantasy in their mind. Unfortunately for many, it may take getting past certain hang-ups. I've talked to a number of women who complain about orgasm problems, blaming their partner entirely, when they've never once even tried taking matters in to their own hands. I mean that literally, by the way. General statistics indicate that 70–80 percent of women require direct clitoral stimulation (consistent manual, oral or other concentrated friction against the external parts of the clitoris) to achieve orgasm. Penetration alone may just not do it for you, and there is nothing wrong with that.
Don't be afraid to give it a little rub while he's inside you - chances are, you'll be glad you did! Worried about how he'll react? Honestly, any man who has an issue with you doing what it takes to reach that moment of bliss likely doesn't deserve to be a part of it at all. Is the angle not quite right? Try doggy style - it's much easier to reach that way, and if he's feeling slightly inadequate because of your efforts, at least this way he doesn't have to see it. Look back up at him, bite your lip and moan (genuinely, I'd hope!) and he'll likely forget all about your handy work. If he's all for finding ways to help you enjoy sex more, you can even try using a vibrator - you just may not want to start with anything cock shaped. Some guys take a while to get used to the idea of that.
A little more advice on the subject from Barbara Bartlik, MD:
Learn your body. You have to crawl before you walk; you have to have one orgasm before you can have multiple orgasms. Get to know your body's hot spots and not-spots. This is the essential foundation to sexual response.
Practice. It takes practice (both by yourself and with your partner) to achieve multiple orgasms. It's sort of like learning to have your first orgasm. You have to immerse yourself in fantasy, or do whatever it takes to get you aroused, and you have to use lots of lubrication so that you can keep trying for more orgasms by stimulating all of your genital area, while focusing your attention to your clitoris, vagina, and G-spot.
Slow down, and use lots of foreplay, especially foreplay that focuses on clitoral stimulation.
Get some rest beforehand. Often, experiencing multiples is limited by your lack of sleep. After one orgasm, many women feel relaxed. So relaxed, that they may want to drift off to sleep. But if you are well rested, you can resist that sleep temptation, and work for another orgasm, and another, and another.
After the first orgasm, the orgasms "come" easier. It might take 10 to 15 minutes to reach your first orgasm, but your second can occur in as little as five minutes, and your third in only two minutes. Keep going as long as you're having fun.
When all is said and done, it becomes clear that yes, it is possible for you to have multiple orgasms. It may take a little time and effort, and possibly one of these, however, when it happens, it will be well worth it, trust me.
February 5, 2014
Submission and Arousal
Warning: For those who know me personally, you're likely about to find out a whole bunch of shit you never knew about me, and possibly never wanted to. Just a heads up.
Life is a funny thing. I spent a large portion of yesterday working on notes and outline ideas for the fifth book in The Society Series. One thing I knew I wanted to work on including right away was Annie's training with Sean. In At The Manor parts one and two, we see her become aroused by one simple, largely non-sexual thing - submitting to him. Once she gets past the lingering fear she has from her past, the idea of giving over control to him is more arousing than anything he could physically do to her, and that's a level of eroticism I want to delve deeper in to. Annie is an extremely strong, fiery, stubborn and independent woman who has made a life for herself developing and implementing slave training techniques. She's the type to take charge in a crisis. She specializes in dealing with difficult slaves, the kind many wouldn't give a second thought to. And she becomes totally, completely, undeniably aroused by handing over the control she has fought so hard for to him. Oh yeah. I can hear you calling bullshit from here. This has to be pure fantasy - it is, after all, from a kink erotica novel. No way in real life would a woman like Annie go weak at the knees simply from the idea of giving over control to someone else, man or woman, no matter how good looking.
Alright. Let's take a look at real life. I consider myself fairly accomplished. I've owned my own business since I was twenty-three, adding my second at twenty-eight (I'm twenty-nine now). I teach. I'm working on my seventh novel, with the prospect of some non-fiction pieces on the horizon as well. I'm relatively well known in my home town, though not always by name for a number of reasons. I'm stubborn to a fault, fiercely protective of my friends and family and not one to bite their tongue when it comes to sharing my opinion. I have also experienced exactly what I write about there first hand. It's rare, sure. Very, very few men (and only one woman) have ever had the "Sean effect" on me, but when it happens, it's incredible. One word, one look, and the crotch of my pants would be drenched. Heaven help me if I was wearing a skirt at the time. That look, that word? Most commonly there is nothing sexual to it at all. It's that look that says "I own you." or "I control you." It's not so much what is actually said as it is the tone of voice, and the attitude of the person saying it. It's that feeling I describe in this bit from At The Manor:
Never had someone been able to make me feel so much by speaking only one word at a time. It was as though some unseen force had control of my limbs as I sank to my knees in the soft, dewy grass.
In my experience, it's been very much this way. Sure, there has been that little voice in my head yelling "what the fuck are you doing!", especially in the beginning. But in those moments there is nothing I can do but obey. Not because of any threat, spoken or otherwise, nor any agreement. It was for no other reason than because he said so. Yes. It's that simple. It's hard to explain it any further, though I wish I could. The feeling goes from head to toe, engulfing the entire body. It's an electric tension, radiating and causing you to feel your heartbeat in places you either didn't know you could or hadn't in ages. Since that first taste of it when I was eighteen, I've been hooked. I can't help it, and I don't want to. As I've grown, my desire to submit has grown right along with me. Now, here's the twist - I'm a switch. I've had two of my own submissives in the past, one male and one female. I'm pretty sure I can still make him twitch and turn red with just two little words. He was a large man, resembling a football player, and a good bit older than me, and that didn't matter. He knew who he answered to. I'll never forget, at least two years after we parted ways, getting a phone call from him out the blue. He was calling to thank me for something I had taught him, as it had just played a part in landing him a major promotion at work. I couldn't have been more proud.
Too many people confuse the desire to submit with willing to submit to anyone. I've been at parties before where I was wearing a collar - sometimes given to me by my Dom, other times just an accessory - and had some asshat wannabe dominant come over to me and try to tell me what to do. My reactions have ranged from laughing and walking away to looking strait at the man and saying, "Do you see your collar around my neck? I don't think so." I've been told I can't "really" or "truly" submit because I'm also able to be (and quite enjoy being) the dominant partner at times. It has been only for the sake of good manners that I haven't told these close minded idiots off on the spot. I'm just as capable of fully submitting as one who's never been on the wielding end of a whip. If I want to. I've been told I just haven't met the right guy that can make me "really" submit. Oh, I beg to differ. I've had my Sean, more than once. Most people only ever see my dominant side. Friends have laughed and cracked jokes at the thought of me being told what to do by my significant other. I just smile and let them keep thinking that. Those who have found themselves with the ability to control me on this level have taken great pleasure in having someone like me willing to submit to them.
I digress, however. Submission and sex are frequently linked. They don't have to be, but it does add a degree of fun. In my experience (I know, I know, I keep saying that), submission and arousal are almost always linked. Let's take a little trip back in time for another real life example. I'm eighteen. I've been hanging out in a hot tub with the man who would become my first Master (though we are nothing more than friends at this point), and become a bit over heated, so I'm sitting on the steps going up in to it. He doesn't ask if I can walk. Doesn't ask if I need anything. He gets out behind me, hands me a towel and says two little words. Don't move. In the few minutes I am alone while he gets me water, I barely even blink. In the back of my mind, I'm wondering why. I'm also trying to figure out the sudden non-hot tub related wetness between my legs. It wouldn't be until several weeks later that I would even begin to have an answer to that, and for years I've tried to figure out why it does what it does to me. As the years passed, I got to the point where the mere idea of submitting to the right person, being totally in their control - if only for a little while - drives me wild. I'll even admit that one of them is Sean. I totally have a crush on my own character. All the rest, as few as they are, happen to be real people.
It does happen. A strong woman can find complete bliss in submitting to the person of her choosing, and once she does, the control she is used to having over her life is gone. Sure, she may frequently make her own decisions, but that person's control is always there, and she knows it. A woman who is dominant in her everyday life can become inexplicably aroused by the delicate chain collar around her neck, right in the middle of a meeting. A powerful woman's happy place can be kneeling at the feet of the One who controls her as they watch television in the evening. And it is totally and completely possible to become aroused to the point of inability to walk or speak or think clearly just by having that person completely strip away the power and control you have during your every day life.
Life is a funny thing. I spent a large portion of yesterday working on notes and outline ideas for the fifth book in The Society Series. One thing I knew I wanted to work on including right away was Annie's training with Sean. In At The Manor parts one and two, we see her become aroused by one simple, largely non-sexual thing - submitting to him. Once she gets past the lingering fear she has from her past, the idea of giving over control to him is more arousing than anything he could physically do to her, and that's a level of eroticism I want to delve deeper in to. Annie is an extremely strong, fiery, stubborn and independent woman who has made a life for herself developing and implementing slave training techniques. She's the type to take charge in a crisis. She specializes in dealing with difficult slaves, the kind many wouldn't give a second thought to. And she becomes totally, completely, undeniably aroused by handing over the control she has fought so hard for to him. Oh yeah. I can hear you calling bullshit from here. This has to be pure fantasy - it is, after all, from a kink erotica novel. No way in real life would a woman like Annie go weak at the knees simply from the idea of giving over control to someone else, man or woman, no matter how good looking.
Alright. Let's take a look at real life. I consider myself fairly accomplished. I've owned my own business since I was twenty-three, adding my second at twenty-eight (I'm twenty-nine now). I teach. I'm working on my seventh novel, with the prospect of some non-fiction pieces on the horizon as well. I'm relatively well known in my home town, though not always by name for a number of reasons. I'm stubborn to a fault, fiercely protective of my friends and family and not one to bite their tongue when it comes to sharing my opinion. I have also experienced exactly what I write about there first hand. It's rare, sure. Very, very few men (and only one woman) have ever had the "Sean effect" on me, but when it happens, it's incredible. One word, one look, and the crotch of my pants would be drenched. Heaven help me if I was wearing a skirt at the time. That look, that word? Most commonly there is nothing sexual to it at all. It's that look that says "I own you." or "I control you." It's not so much what is actually said as it is the tone of voice, and the attitude of the person saying it. It's that feeling I describe in this bit from At The Manor:
Never had someone been able to make me feel so much by speaking only one word at a time. It was as though some unseen force had control of my limbs as I sank to my knees in the soft, dewy grass.
In my experience, it's been very much this way. Sure, there has been that little voice in my head yelling "what the fuck are you doing!", especially in the beginning. But in those moments there is nothing I can do but obey. Not because of any threat, spoken or otherwise, nor any agreement. It was for no other reason than because he said so. Yes. It's that simple. It's hard to explain it any further, though I wish I could. The feeling goes from head to toe, engulfing the entire body. It's an electric tension, radiating and causing you to feel your heartbeat in places you either didn't know you could or hadn't in ages. Since that first taste of it when I was eighteen, I've been hooked. I can't help it, and I don't want to. As I've grown, my desire to submit has grown right along with me. Now, here's the twist - I'm a switch. I've had two of my own submissives in the past, one male and one female. I'm pretty sure I can still make him twitch and turn red with just two little words. He was a large man, resembling a football player, and a good bit older than me, and that didn't matter. He knew who he answered to. I'll never forget, at least two years after we parted ways, getting a phone call from him out the blue. He was calling to thank me for something I had taught him, as it had just played a part in landing him a major promotion at work. I couldn't have been more proud.
Too many people confuse the desire to submit with willing to submit to anyone. I've been at parties before where I was wearing a collar - sometimes given to me by my Dom, other times just an accessory - and had some asshat wannabe dominant come over to me and try to tell me what to do. My reactions have ranged from laughing and walking away to looking strait at the man and saying, "Do you see your collar around my neck? I don't think so." I've been told I can't "really" or "truly" submit because I'm also able to be (and quite enjoy being) the dominant partner at times. It has been only for the sake of good manners that I haven't told these close minded idiots off on the spot. I'm just as capable of fully submitting as one who's never been on the wielding end of a whip. If I want to. I've been told I just haven't met the right guy that can make me "really" submit. Oh, I beg to differ. I've had my Sean, more than once. Most people only ever see my dominant side. Friends have laughed and cracked jokes at the thought of me being told what to do by my significant other. I just smile and let them keep thinking that. Those who have found themselves with the ability to control me on this level have taken great pleasure in having someone like me willing to submit to them.
I digress, however. Submission and sex are frequently linked. They don't have to be, but it does add a degree of fun. In my experience (I know, I know, I keep saying that), submission and arousal are almost always linked. Let's take a little trip back in time for another real life example. I'm eighteen. I've been hanging out in a hot tub with the man who would become my first Master (though we are nothing more than friends at this point), and become a bit over heated, so I'm sitting on the steps going up in to it. He doesn't ask if I can walk. Doesn't ask if I need anything. He gets out behind me, hands me a towel and says two little words. Don't move. In the few minutes I am alone while he gets me water, I barely even blink. In the back of my mind, I'm wondering why. I'm also trying to figure out the sudden non-hot tub related wetness between my legs. It wouldn't be until several weeks later that I would even begin to have an answer to that, and for years I've tried to figure out why it does what it does to me. As the years passed, I got to the point where the mere idea of submitting to the right person, being totally in their control - if only for a little while - drives me wild. I'll even admit that one of them is Sean. I totally have a crush on my own character. All the rest, as few as they are, happen to be real people.
It does happen. A strong woman can find complete bliss in submitting to the person of her choosing, and once she does, the control she is used to having over her life is gone. Sure, she may frequently make her own decisions, but that person's control is always there, and she knows it. A woman who is dominant in her everyday life can become inexplicably aroused by the delicate chain collar around her neck, right in the middle of a meeting. A powerful woman's happy place can be kneeling at the feet of the One who controls her as they watch television in the evening. And it is totally and completely possible to become aroused to the point of inability to walk or speak or think clearly just by having that person completely strip away the power and control you have during your every day life.
Looking Back at Becoming Charity
I let myself have the weekend off from actual writing, thinking I could give my brain a bit of a break. You see, when I really get going, the scenes seem to play in my mind and it's as though I'm simply a fly on the wall, watching, my hand furiously typing away to get it all down on the page. Sure, I start out on a new piece with a basic outline for the plot, but that's about it. I love when this happens. I'll go back and read over what I have and often find myself thinking, 'wow, I wrote that?'. Ok, back to that whole giving my brain a break thing. Yeah. It didn't happen. As has become more and more frequent, I found my mind wandering back to the first book I published, The Society: Becoming Charity. What I was once so proud of has become a literary thorn in my side.
I began writing it nearly seven years ago. It was a release, a way to deal with some things that were going on in my life. I had no intention of it being published, ever. I shared bits on a couple of different sites and with a few friends, and that was it. Then my friends who had read it began telling me I should look in to getting published, and finally I did. I worked hard to get the book to a good ending point, found a publisher who would take something that didn't have a romantic sub-plot and that was written in the first person instead of the third. I was thrilled when it was accepted, waiting eagerly for it to go live. Then came the second and third books. It was somewhere between their publication dates that I began to wonder about the first book, started to think it might not be the best it could have been.
It really hit me when I had the compilation book The Society: The First Three published. I went back through all three to double check for typos, continuity errors, etc. I found myself reading through the first one and cringing more often than not. Now, I know most artists are their own worst critics, and that people say you'll never be completely happy with your work. Since I can be a perfectionist, I set a goal for myself in order to know when a piece was ready for publication. It's when I can read through and have it be something that I would buy, read and enjoy myself. I'm a picky reader, especially when it comes to erotica, so this seemed a reasonable goal. It's worked. Unfortunately, that goal was set after my first had been published and now I find that it doesn't live up to that standard. Now, after a long while of thinking it over, I've finally started.
I copied the original content in to a new file and dove in, scalpel in hand. Overly harsh or extreme scenes will be reworked. Repetitive scenes will be cut and glossed over. New scenes will be added to give the book a good, solid plot as well as to allow the characters to become more fully developed. I refuse to be embarrassed by the book I was once so proud of any longer, and it is my sincere hope that you, dear reader, will not hold this against me. I was young and angry when it began, and in my determination to be published, I gave you something sub-par. Believe me when I say I can hear the voices of my English teachers back through the years, and they're all saying the same thing. "What were you thinking!!" I am not sure when the edited version will be available, but hopefully it will be soon, and followed by the fourth book in my The Society series, Vanished!
To those of you who actually read the original first book all the way through, you have my thanks and my apologies. For those who put it down after the first few pages, I understand completely, and I sincerely hope you might give it a second chance when the edited version becomes available. I'm planning to post some of the edited bits here so that you can decide if it will be worth it to you or not.
Now, enough living in the past! Time for me to get back to work, the sooner to give you wonderful readers something you can really enjoy!
I began writing it nearly seven years ago. It was a release, a way to deal with some things that were going on in my life. I had no intention of it being published, ever. I shared bits on a couple of different sites and with a few friends, and that was it. Then my friends who had read it began telling me I should look in to getting published, and finally I did. I worked hard to get the book to a good ending point, found a publisher who would take something that didn't have a romantic sub-plot and that was written in the first person instead of the third. I was thrilled when it was accepted, waiting eagerly for it to go live. Then came the second and third books. It was somewhere between their publication dates that I began to wonder about the first book, started to think it might not be the best it could have been.
It really hit me when I had the compilation book The Society: The First Three published. I went back through all three to double check for typos, continuity errors, etc. I found myself reading through the first one and cringing more often than not. Now, I know most artists are their own worst critics, and that people say you'll never be completely happy with your work. Since I can be a perfectionist, I set a goal for myself in order to know when a piece was ready for publication. It's when I can read through and have it be something that I would buy, read and enjoy myself. I'm a picky reader, especially when it comes to erotica, so this seemed a reasonable goal. It's worked. Unfortunately, that goal was set after my first had been published and now I find that it doesn't live up to that standard. Now, after a long while of thinking it over, I've finally started.
I copied the original content in to a new file and dove in, scalpel in hand. Overly harsh or extreme scenes will be reworked. Repetitive scenes will be cut and glossed over. New scenes will be added to give the book a good, solid plot as well as to allow the characters to become more fully developed. I refuse to be embarrassed by the book I was once so proud of any longer, and it is my sincere hope that you, dear reader, will not hold this against me. I was young and angry when it began, and in my determination to be published, I gave you something sub-par. Believe me when I say I can hear the voices of my English teachers back through the years, and they're all saying the same thing. "What were you thinking!!" I am not sure when the edited version will be available, but hopefully it will be soon, and followed by the fourth book in my The Society series, Vanished!
To those of you who actually read the original first book all the way through, you have my thanks and my apologies. For those who put it down after the first few pages, I understand completely, and I sincerely hope you might give it a second chance when the edited version becomes available. I'm planning to post some of the edited bits here so that you can decide if it will be worth it to you or not.
Now, enough living in the past! Time for me to get back to work, the sooner to give you wonderful readers something you can really enjoy!
Teaser for my fourth The Society book, Vanished!
Wow. Once again, it's been entirely too long. To be fair to myself, I did just start another business venture, and that's been taking up much of my time. About two weeks ago, the writing bug bit me again and I went from having around 4,000 words written for the fourth book to nearly 60,000. Yeah, it's been a productive couple of weeks! I'm very pleased with where this one is heading, though it's taking the series in a different direction. There may be some major editing of the first books when this one is done. There's a bit more romance, some intrigue and espionage, and if you're as much a fan of Annie and Sean as I am, some scenes that may well tug hard at your heart. Of course, you can expect more of the hot, kinky fun as well! Anyway, here's a little teaser for you, taken from chapter 10. Enjoy!
"I want ta kiss ye, little girl." His eyes had gone that familiar dark green.
"I'm yours." Was all I said, and then his lips were on mine. I pushed against him, deepening the kiss.
What fear was still there was battling with my growing desire, and Sean could feel it. Breaking off our kiss, he said,
“Are ye alright, pet?” Hearing that nickname again made me shiver.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Somethin' I said?” I nodded and he smiled. “My sweet pet.” I shivered again. “Ye like that?”
“Yes, Sir.” My voice shook.
“There's somethin' else I've been wantin' ta say ta yew, little one, and I've a feelin' ye have an idea what it is.”
My breath caught in my throat, thoughts racing no matter what I did to try to slow them.
“I love ye, Annie.” As easily as he'd caused my thoughts to race, he stopped them in their tracks.
“I love you, too.” I whispered without hesitation and his lips were on mine once more. Desire was winning out over fear.
“I din'na want ta push ye.” He murmured when we came up for air.
“Please, Sir.”
“Are ye sure?”
“I don't wanna be afraid anymore.”
“Pull down tha sheets, love.” He got up and turned off the lights, the sunset coming through the sheer curtains the only illumination left. Shaking, I did as he asked.
I lay down again, the sheets cool against my skin. Sean stood by the bed, just looking at me for a few moments before he lay down next to me, propped up on his side.
“I din'na want ta hurt ye.” He said quietly. “And I'll nae go any faster than ye want me to.”
I nodded. He leaned in to kiss me again and I moaned just a little. I was fighting with the images in my head, trying to force them out and loosing. He felt the difference.
“Wha'is it?”
“Images. I need to hear your voice, please.”
“Please what, pet?” His voice was gentle, coaxing.
“Please, Sir.”
“Good girl. That's my sweet girl, my pet.” He spoke softly, his fingers tracing a path from my cheek, down my neck and around my left breast. I gasped, my nipple tightening more the closer his fingers came to it.
“It's puckerin' for me, lass. Dew ye want me ta touch it?” He was making large, slow, teasing circles around it.
“Yes, Sir.” His finger barely brushed over the tip and I groaned. The right one was starting to ache and I arched towards him. That same finger was making it's way to my right nipple, leaving a tingling in it's wake. He circled that one as he had done the left, and getting the same reaction.
“Please...” I whimpered.
“Please, what, pet?
“Please touch my nipple, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He brushed the right just as lightly as he had the left. I arched, wanting more and he pulled his hand back.
“Look at ye, little girl, so needy. D'they hurt?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Ye poor thing. My poor, sweet girl.”
Sitting up a little, he took one breast in each hand and began to squeeze lightly, almost kneading them. I moaned and arched, my hands making their own kneading motions on the sheets.
“How ready fer me are ye, pet?”
“I...I don't know.” I could barely think.
“You don't know, what?”
“Sir.” I couldn't quite manage a full sentence.
“Spread yer legs fer me, then, pet.”
Slowly I did as he asked. He could see me shaking.
“It's alright, little one. Just a bit more. It's alright, I'm not goin'ta hurt ye.”
His hand slid down across my stomach to cup between my legs. I let out a trembling moan.
“I can feel yer heat, pet. I bet yer wet fer me already. Dew ye want me ta check?”
“Uh huh!”
“Ye'll have ta dew better than that, little one. Dew ye want me ta see how wet ye are?”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
“Yes, please, what?”
I repeated myself, louder.
“Nae, pet, I think I need more this time.”
“I...I don't...” I was foggy with desire and confused.
“Say please, Master.”
I froze, and he could see me tense.
“It's alright, Annie, it's jest me. I jest want ta hear ye say it.”
“Pl...please, Master.”
He squeezed and I whimpered again.
“One more time, love.”
“Please, Master.” Much easier the second time, though my voice still shook.
“Good girl, Annie.”
Barely moving his hand, Sean slipped a finger between my lips, finding me not nearly as wet as expected. Moving it away, he lay down and pulled me to him, kissing me. I could feel his erection pressing against my leg.
“Yer jest fine, lass. I wont push ye, I wont rush ye.” He murmured between kisses.
I could feel a low ache starting to build.
“Please, Master. Please touch me again.”
His hand returned to it's previous location, gently stroking from top to bottom, and I shivered. He focused on my clit for a moment and I could feel my arousal growing at a steady pace.
“There ye go, pet. I can feel ye getting' wet fer me. D'ye like that?”
“Yes, Master.” My hands were kneading at the bed again, and I brushed against his erection. An accident the fist time, I started letting my hand creep closer, brushing my fingers along it's length.
“Ye can touch it if ye like, pet.” He moved so that it was closer and I wrapped my hand around it. “Ah, god, Annie. Jest yer hand feels incredible.” He groaned. I could feel my wetness increase, his finger sliding more easily.
“Please, Master. I need something inside me.” I whispered. His finger found my entry and slid inside, my hips automatically rising to meet his hand.
“Dew ye want more, pet?”
“Yes, Master.”
"I want ta kiss ye, little girl." His eyes had gone that familiar dark green.
"I'm yours." Was all I said, and then his lips were on mine. I pushed against him, deepening the kiss.
What fear was still there was battling with my growing desire, and Sean could feel it. Breaking off our kiss, he said,
“Are ye alright, pet?” Hearing that nickname again made me shiver.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Somethin' I said?” I nodded and he smiled. “My sweet pet.” I shivered again. “Ye like that?”
“Yes, Sir.” My voice shook.
“There's somethin' else I've been wantin' ta say ta yew, little one, and I've a feelin' ye have an idea what it is.”
My breath caught in my throat, thoughts racing no matter what I did to try to slow them.
“I love ye, Annie.” As easily as he'd caused my thoughts to race, he stopped them in their tracks.
“I love you, too.” I whispered without hesitation and his lips were on mine once more. Desire was winning out over fear.
“I din'na want ta push ye.” He murmured when we came up for air.
“Please, Sir.”
“Are ye sure?”
“I don't wanna be afraid anymore.”
“Pull down tha sheets, love.” He got up and turned off the lights, the sunset coming through the sheer curtains the only illumination left. Shaking, I did as he asked.
I lay down again, the sheets cool against my skin. Sean stood by the bed, just looking at me for a few moments before he lay down next to me, propped up on his side.
“I din'na want ta hurt ye.” He said quietly. “And I'll nae go any faster than ye want me to.”
I nodded. He leaned in to kiss me again and I moaned just a little. I was fighting with the images in my head, trying to force them out and loosing. He felt the difference.
“Wha'is it?”
“Images. I need to hear your voice, please.”
“Please what, pet?” His voice was gentle, coaxing.
“Please, Sir.”
“Good girl. That's my sweet girl, my pet.” He spoke softly, his fingers tracing a path from my cheek, down my neck and around my left breast. I gasped, my nipple tightening more the closer his fingers came to it.
“It's puckerin' for me, lass. Dew ye want me ta touch it?” He was making large, slow, teasing circles around it.
“Yes, Sir.” His finger barely brushed over the tip and I groaned. The right one was starting to ache and I arched towards him. That same finger was making it's way to my right nipple, leaving a tingling in it's wake. He circled that one as he had done the left, and getting the same reaction.
“Please...” I whimpered.
“Please, what, pet?
“Please touch my nipple, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He brushed the right just as lightly as he had the left. I arched, wanting more and he pulled his hand back.
“Look at ye, little girl, so needy. D'they hurt?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Ye poor thing. My poor, sweet girl.”
Sitting up a little, he took one breast in each hand and began to squeeze lightly, almost kneading them. I moaned and arched, my hands making their own kneading motions on the sheets.
“How ready fer me are ye, pet?”
“I...I don't know.” I could barely think.
“You don't know, what?”
“Sir.” I couldn't quite manage a full sentence.
“Spread yer legs fer me, then, pet.”
Slowly I did as he asked. He could see me shaking.
“It's alright, little one. Just a bit more. It's alright, I'm not goin'ta hurt ye.”
His hand slid down across my stomach to cup between my legs. I let out a trembling moan.
“I can feel yer heat, pet. I bet yer wet fer me already. Dew ye want me ta check?”
“Uh huh!”
“Ye'll have ta dew better than that, little one. Dew ye want me ta see how wet ye are?”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
“Yes, please, what?”
I repeated myself, louder.
“Nae, pet, I think I need more this time.”
“I...I don't...” I was foggy with desire and confused.
“Say please, Master.”
I froze, and he could see me tense.
“It's alright, Annie, it's jest me. I jest want ta hear ye say it.”
“Pl...please, Master.”
He squeezed and I whimpered again.
“One more time, love.”
“Please, Master.” Much easier the second time, though my voice still shook.
“Good girl, Annie.”
Barely moving his hand, Sean slipped a finger between my lips, finding me not nearly as wet as expected. Moving it away, he lay down and pulled me to him, kissing me. I could feel his erection pressing against my leg.
“Yer jest fine, lass. I wont push ye, I wont rush ye.” He murmured between kisses.
I could feel a low ache starting to build.
“Please, Master. Please touch me again.”
His hand returned to it's previous location, gently stroking from top to bottom, and I shivered. He focused on my clit for a moment and I could feel my arousal growing at a steady pace.
“There ye go, pet. I can feel ye getting' wet fer me. D'ye like that?”
“Yes, Master.” My hands were kneading at the bed again, and I brushed against his erection. An accident the fist time, I started letting my hand creep closer, brushing my fingers along it's length.
“Ye can touch it if ye like, pet.” He moved so that it was closer and I wrapped my hand around it. “Ah, god, Annie. Jest yer hand feels incredible.” He groaned. I could feel my wetness increase, his finger sliding more easily.
“Please, Master. I need something inside me.” I whispered. His finger found my entry and slid inside, my hips automatically rising to meet his hand.
“Dew ye want more, pet?”
“Yes, Master.”
February 4, 2014
Kink and The Real World
I've spent the last couple of days working on a project for one of the roleplay scenarios my Dom and I use on a regular basis, and as usual I can't help but try to think of ways to take it further. Namely how to take it outside our home or a hotel room. With some of the jobs we've had, we have a tendency to get recognized when we go out, which limits what sort of kink related things we can do publicly. This lead me down a road that I've been down time and time again since I discovered my kinky side. How to deal with kink in the real world.
I know this is hardly an issue unique to us. Most kinky people face this problem. It is part of what drove me to begin writing kink erotica. There have been many times that I have wished I lived in the worlds I have created in my books. In those worlds, kink is the real world for my characters. They live the way so many of us wish we could, where "real life" as we know it interferes very little, if at all, with their pursuit of their kinky way of life. In The Society, Annie makes a very nice living teaching on the kink convention circuit, owns a slave or two and has an incredibly handsome, loving Dom of her own. The sexy Irish accent is just icing on the cake. Her chosen career and income leave them free to essentially do as they please, kinky or otherwise.
In the Slut University books, Allie is completely immersed in a world where (at least five days of the week) all she has to worry about is being the best slut she possibly can be for her Master and fiance Jake. Gangbangs are an almost daily occurrence, as is wearing very little clothing and almost always having a butt plug in her ass. Sure, she's helping him plan their wedding and dealing with adjusting to having a third partner in their home, but the "normal" worries most of us face just aren't an issue. Ah, the lives of fictional characters.
Sadly, we do not share their worlds and unless we are independently wealthy and live somewhere like Vegas or NYC (myself I'm stuck in the bible belt), it's highly unlikely that we will ever have more than the smallest glimpse at living that way. But this has lead us to being a very creative bunch. Personally it has lead me to a serious interest in the mental side of what it is that we do. Over the years, I have come to appreciate and enjoy being in a relationship where the D/s nature of it is always there, lurking just below the surface. Of course, we also enjoy the physical aspect a good deal, and enjoy the fact that mostly working for myself gives me the time to work on projects like my current one, and to do things while I'm working at home that I couldn't do if I had a regular job.
As a whole, those of us in the kink world have found ways to bring our kinks into the so-called real world. There are any number of collar options that simply look like necklaces to the vanilla world. Cuffs too, and I know quite a few people who make use of this. A sub or slave having their clothing chosen for them is also common, or they do more what I do,which is nearly always dressing with him and his preferences in mind. Around here that means going barefoot a lot and having a large sandal collection. On a wider scale, we kinky folk have found ways to identify ourselves to our like-minded brethren without giving anything away to the vanillas around us. These have changed and evolved over the years, just as the kink community has. We host munches and play parties and weekend conventions that allow us that chance to live in our fantasy worlds even if only for a brief moment.
We take weekend getaways to places where no one knows us for the chance to be who we wish we could be all the time. We gather online just to be able to talk without fear, to share our fantasies and to remind us that there are others who share them. We dream of a world that fully accepts us for who we are, and take pleasure in finding creative ways to enjoy our kinks with the vanilla world being none the wiser.
Each relationship and situation is unique, and we all have our ways of getting our needs met. What works for one person or situation doesn't always work for another. I'd love to hear what you do to keep the kink strong for you and yours in this crazy world. :-)
I know this is hardly an issue unique to us. Most kinky people face this problem. It is part of what drove me to begin writing kink erotica. There have been many times that I have wished I lived in the worlds I have created in my books. In those worlds, kink is the real world for my characters. They live the way so many of us wish we could, where "real life" as we know it interferes very little, if at all, with their pursuit of their kinky way of life. In The Society, Annie makes a very nice living teaching on the kink convention circuit, owns a slave or two and has an incredibly handsome, loving Dom of her own. The sexy Irish accent is just icing on the cake. Her chosen career and income leave them free to essentially do as they please, kinky or otherwise.
In the Slut University books, Allie is completely immersed in a world where (at least five days of the week) all she has to worry about is being the best slut she possibly can be for her Master and fiance Jake. Gangbangs are an almost daily occurrence, as is wearing very little clothing and almost always having a butt plug in her ass. Sure, she's helping him plan their wedding and dealing with adjusting to having a third partner in their home, but the "normal" worries most of us face just aren't an issue. Ah, the lives of fictional characters.
Sadly, we do not share their worlds and unless we are independently wealthy and live somewhere like Vegas or NYC (myself I'm stuck in the bible belt), it's highly unlikely that we will ever have more than the smallest glimpse at living that way. But this has lead us to being a very creative bunch. Personally it has lead me to a serious interest in the mental side of what it is that we do. Over the years, I have come to appreciate and enjoy being in a relationship where the D/s nature of it is always there, lurking just below the surface. Of course, we also enjoy the physical aspect a good deal, and enjoy the fact that mostly working for myself gives me the time to work on projects like my current one, and to do things while I'm working at home that I couldn't do if I had a regular job.
As a whole, those of us in the kink world have found ways to bring our kinks into the so-called real world. There are any number of collar options that simply look like necklaces to the vanilla world. Cuffs too, and I know quite a few people who make use of this. A sub or slave having their clothing chosen for them is also common, or they do more what I do,which is nearly always dressing with him and his preferences in mind. Around here that means going barefoot a lot and having a large sandal collection. On a wider scale, we kinky folk have found ways to identify ourselves to our like-minded brethren without giving anything away to the vanillas around us. These have changed and evolved over the years, just as the kink community has. We host munches and play parties and weekend conventions that allow us that chance to live in our fantasy worlds even if only for a brief moment.
We take weekend getaways to places where no one knows us for the chance to be who we wish we could be all the time. We gather online just to be able to talk without fear, to share our fantasies and to remind us that there are others who share them. We dream of a world that fully accepts us for who we are, and take pleasure in finding creative ways to enjoy our kinks with the vanilla world being none the wiser.
Each relationship and situation is unique, and we all have our ways of getting our needs met. What works for one person or situation doesn't always work for another. I'd love to hear what you do to keep the kink strong for you and yours in this crazy world. :-)
Teaser from The Society Series Book 3, At The Manor, Part Two
A little while ago, I posted my first non-sexual teaser, a chapter showing Sean's last days at the program. While only a few pages in the book separate that scene from this one, a good deal happens. Annie's reaction to his homecoming isn't exactly what Sean had pictured, and a long conversation is needed to get them back on track. In this scene, Sean has finally caught her and finally got her to sit down and tell him what's going on. The dark secret from her past that has had her terrified of submitting while he was away is revealed, and with that out of the way, Sean is eager to make Annie his, to take her not as a slave servicing a guest of his Owner, but as a partner and her Dom. What made Annie react the way she did when he came home? Well, you'll just have to read the book to find out!
Though I tried to appear calm, the ice in my glass gave away my trembling and he was by my side in two quick strides, taking the glass from me and setting it on the table before wrapping me in his arms again. He held me til the shaking subsided, then said,
“I can understand why ya ran from me now.”
I gave him a sheepish look, and he kissed the tip of my nose.
“It's alright, darlin', no need to be embarrassed. It may not have been the most logical thinkin', but ya had a good reason for what ya did.”
I shrugged.
“Do ya think we can put all that behind us now, little girl? At least the runnin'?”
“I think we can.”
“I'm glad ta hear ya say that, lass. Every moment that I did'na have to focus on m'trainin', ye were on my mind. I dinna want ya afraid of me, lass.”
“It's not you I'm afraid of, I swear. It's letting go, submitting again. I've been terrified of it ever since that night. Francis even cut that part of my training short, because he knew where my mind was.”
I couldn't look at him. I could barely look at anything but the carpet.
“Annie, I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'd never harm ya. I dinna know what I need ta do ta prove it to ya, love, but I will prove it. To the rest of The Society, ye'll be my partner, and nothin' more. I may desire more from ya, but they never need know.” His voice was low and soothing, and I began to relax a little.
“Thank you.”
“Yer most welcome, lass. I've said I will'na pressure ya, and I mean it. But I do want ye as more than just my partner. Maybe I could'a been happy with that before, not fully knowin' what else there might be. But not now.”
I tensed again, and took a small step back. He didn't move.
“I know that scares ya, little one. I dinna want ya to be afraid. I know ye, Annie, yer tough and ye always have been. That's part of why I'm attracted to ya! The thought of a woman like yew being mine, it's intoxicatin'. Sure, I could take a slave, like everyone'll be expectin' of me, but I'd rather have yew, lass.”
While I heard every word he said, the one that stuck with me was 'mine'. He wanted me to be his, to belong to him. I felt my pulse begin to race and my breathing go shallow. I was terrified and thrilled at the same time, my legs tensed and ready to run while at the same time my arousal began to make itself known. I could feel my face flush, and took a seat on the couch to keep my knees from going next. He sat next to me once more, facing me though I faced forward.
“Was it somethin' I said?”
I nodded. The look on his face said he knew exactly what had done this to me.
“Do I need ta say it again?”
I was frozen in place by the mix of emotions running through me.
“I want ya to be mine, Annie. Not the way a slave belongs to their Master or Mistress, but the way that one person can belong to another only when they've given themselves willingly. I've seen it in ya, before I left. I felt ya go weak when I said it before, and I know tis only yer nerves and fear talkin' now.”
He scooted closer to me, putting an arm around my shoulders. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. His free hand brushed my cheek before cupping my chin and turning my face to look at him.
“I can see it in yer eyes, and ya know I can. I know ya want this as badly as I do, ya just need to admit it to yerself.”
I looked away as I felt my defenses begin to crumble a little.
“Dinna look away from me, lass. Ya can'na hide it, though I know yer tryin'. I'll ask ya again, dew ya want this?”
After a moment that seemed like forever, I nodded.
“Ya need help with the words, don't ya little one.”
It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyways.
“Repeat after me then. I am yours.”
For a brief moment I felt like I would faint.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
I forced my eyes to meet his.
“I know ya want to, so say it. I am yours.”
“I...I am....yours.” I finally managed, though even I could barely hear myself.
“What was that?”
“I...am...yours.”
It felt even better the second time than it had the first, my fear giving way to a feeling of freedom I couldn't ever remember having felt before. Sean grinned from ear to ear and pulled me to him, holding me close. I held on to him like my life depended on it. When we finally managed to pull away from each other, he said,
“How do ya feel?”
“I...honestly, I don't know. I can't describe it.”
“Ya look more relaxed now than I've seen ya all day.”
“I think I am. I'm still nervous, but I'm not so afraid any more.”
“I'm glad.”
The hand that had been cupping my chin slid around behind my head and pulled me in for a kiss. His lips were soft against mine, and I could feel myself starting to melt just like I had the first time we kissed. Our lips finally parted, but still we sat there with our heads together, enjoying the closeness of it. Pushing a stray lock of hair from my face, he said,
“Are ya ready for me ta make ya mine, Annie?” His voice was husky and his accent thick. I shivered.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, it is.”
I could see a glimmer of something in his eyes, something not entirely new but still foreign as he said,
“Yes, what?”
My heart skipped a beat. I didn't have to guess at what he meant.
“Yes...Sir.”
“Good girl.”
Standing, he took me by the hand and lead me into the bedroom, and with one simple word, took full control of me all over again.
“Strip.”
My limbs weak and shaking, I slowly removed my boots, skirt, shirt and bra, letting them fall to the floor. When I was nude, he motioned for me to lay back on the bed and proceeded to undress himself. By the time he joined me on the bed, I was a raw bundle of nerves. He traced a finger from my cheek to my hip and back up the other side, causing me to shiver.
“I know it's always been a bit rough when I've taken ya in the past, darlin', but I believe tonight calls for somethin' different. Just yerself and I, no toys or tools. I've been thinkin' about this a good deal while I've been away, and I've a feelin' yer just as ready for me as I for ye, lass.”
If I hadn't already been soaking wet, I would have been after those words. His voice was low, his eyes a shade or two darker from the pent up desire and I could feel his erection pressing against my leg. I nodded.
“Good.”
With that he kissed me again, pressing himself against me. I was not bound or gagged or blindfolded and yet I felt more helpless to him than I ever had before as his mouth moved down to plant little kisses on the tender spot between my neck and shoulder. I let out a little whimper and heard him chuckle in response. One hand found my breast, gently stroking and squeezing it, occasionally pausing to lightly pinch and twist my nipple. Already my head was spinning, and the tops of my thighs were becoming damp. His cock twitched against my leg repeatedly as his mouth moved from my neck to my breast and back up on the other side to my ear.
“I'd wanted ta drag this out a bit more, lass, but I find I want ya too badly. I know yer ready for me. Spread your legs, little girl.” His voice bordered on a growl, though there was something strangely tender about it.
I did as he asked and he positioned himself, then leaned down to kiss me. Just before he pushed forward, he said,
“Are ya sure yer ready to be mine?”
“Yes, Sir.”
His cock began to slide in to me and I groaned, having forgotten the size of it in our time apart. He began slowly, taking his time moving in and out of me, and did so until I was squirming under him, giving away my desperate need for more. He leaned in for one last gentle kiss before his hand slid behind my head and grabbed my hair at the scalp, pulling my head to the side and exposing my neck. His mouth found my skin once more as his thrusts became harder, his teeth first grazing then biting the sensitive little area he knew all too well.
“What are ya, Annie?” he growled in my ear.
“Yours, Sir.” I gasped in reply.
“Say it.” I could feel him holding back.
“I'm yours.”
“Good girl.”
He groaned and began to fuck me harder. As my arms were free for the first time with him, I reached behind and dug my nails in just a bit, dragging them down his back.
Little by little we lost ourselves to each other and the passion we were feeling. My legs went around his hips as I thrust up to meet him, pressing our bodies together. When he growled in my ear for me to play with myself, I did so gladly and quickly reached my first orgasm. Though he kept going, I could feel him tense as my muscles spasmed around him. I was in a fog and all I knew was that I could not get enough. Wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over us both, his teeth leaving marks on my pale skin just as my nails left on his. I was spinning, falling, loosing myself to him, and I didn't care. The whole thing felt like it would last forever and seemed to come to an end all too soon when he finally pushed in as deep as he could and let go inside of me.At the Manor, Part Two
Though I tried to appear calm, the ice in my glass gave away my trembling and he was by my side in two quick strides, taking the glass from me and setting it on the table before wrapping me in his arms again. He held me til the shaking subsided, then said,
“I can understand why ya ran from me now.”
I gave him a sheepish look, and he kissed the tip of my nose.
“It's alright, darlin', no need to be embarrassed. It may not have been the most logical thinkin', but ya had a good reason for what ya did.”
I shrugged.
“Do ya think we can put all that behind us now, little girl? At least the runnin'?”
“I think we can.”
“I'm glad ta hear ya say that, lass. Every moment that I did'na have to focus on m'trainin', ye were on my mind. I dinna want ya afraid of me, lass.”
“It's not you I'm afraid of, I swear. It's letting go, submitting again. I've been terrified of it ever since that night. Francis even cut that part of my training short, because he knew where my mind was.”
I couldn't look at him. I could barely look at anything but the carpet.
“Annie, I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'd never harm ya. I dinna know what I need ta do ta prove it to ya, love, but I will prove it. To the rest of The Society, ye'll be my partner, and nothin' more. I may desire more from ya, but they never need know.” His voice was low and soothing, and I began to relax a little.
“Thank you.”
“Yer most welcome, lass. I've said I will'na pressure ya, and I mean it. But I do want ye as more than just my partner. Maybe I could'a been happy with that before, not fully knowin' what else there might be. But not now.”
I tensed again, and took a small step back. He didn't move.
“I know that scares ya, little one. I dinna want ya to be afraid. I know ye, Annie, yer tough and ye always have been. That's part of why I'm attracted to ya! The thought of a woman like yew being mine, it's intoxicatin'. Sure, I could take a slave, like everyone'll be expectin' of me, but I'd rather have yew, lass.”
While I heard every word he said, the one that stuck with me was 'mine'. He wanted me to be his, to belong to him. I felt my pulse begin to race and my breathing go shallow. I was terrified and thrilled at the same time, my legs tensed and ready to run while at the same time my arousal began to make itself known. I could feel my face flush, and took a seat on the couch to keep my knees from going next. He sat next to me once more, facing me though I faced forward.
“Was it somethin' I said?”
I nodded. The look on his face said he knew exactly what had done this to me.
“Do I need ta say it again?”
I was frozen in place by the mix of emotions running through me.
“I want ya to be mine, Annie. Not the way a slave belongs to their Master or Mistress, but the way that one person can belong to another only when they've given themselves willingly. I've seen it in ya, before I left. I felt ya go weak when I said it before, and I know tis only yer nerves and fear talkin' now.”
He scooted closer to me, putting an arm around my shoulders. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. His free hand brushed my cheek before cupping my chin and turning my face to look at him.
“I can see it in yer eyes, and ya know I can. I know ya want this as badly as I do, ya just need to admit it to yerself.”
I looked away as I felt my defenses begin to crumble a little.
“Dinna look away from me, lass. Ya can'na hide it, though I know yer tryin'. I'll ask ya again, dew ya want this?”
After a moment that seemed like forever, I nodded.
“Ya need help with the words, don't ya little one.”
It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyways.
“Repeat after me then. I am yours.”
For a brief moment I felt like I would faint.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
I forced my eyes to meet his.
“I know ya want to, so say it. I am yours.”
“I...I am....yours.” I finally managed, though even I could barely hear myself.
“What was that?”
“I...am...yours.”
It felt even better the second time than it had the first, my fear giving way to a feeling of freedom I couldn't ever remember having felt before. Sean grinned from ear to ear and pulled me to him, holding me close. I held on to him like my life depended on it. When we finally managed to pull away from each other, he said,
“How do ya feel?”
“I...honestly, I don't know. I can't describe it.”
“Ya look more relaxed now than I've seen ya all day.”
“I think I am. I'm still nervous, but I'm not so afraid any more.”
“I'm glad.”
The hand that had been cupping my chin slid around behind my head and pulled me in for a kiss. His lips were soft against mine, and I could feel myself starting to melt just like I had the first time we kissed. Our lips finally parted, but still we sat there with our heads together, enjoying the closeness of it. Pushing a stray lock of hair from my face, he said,
“Are ya ready for me ta make ya mine, Annie?” His voice was husky and his accent thick. I shivered.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, it is.”
I could see a glimmer of something in his eyes, something not entirely new but still foreign as he said,
“Yes, what?”
My heart skipped a beat. I didn't have to guess at what he meant.
“Yes...Sir.”
“Good girl.”
Standing, he took me by the hand and lead me into the bedroom, and with one simple word, took full control of me all over again.
“Strip.”
My limbs weak and shaking, I slowly removed my boots, skirt, shirt and bra, letting them fall to the floor. When I was nude, he motioned for me to lay back on the bed and proceeded to undress himself. By the time he joined me on the bed, I was a raw bundle of nerves. He traced a finger from my cheek to my hip and back up the other side, causing me to shiver.
“I know it's always been a bit rough when I've taken ya in the past, darlin', but I believe tonight calls for somethin' different. Just yerself and I, no toys or tools. I've been thinkin' about this a good deal while I've been away, and I've a feelin' yer just as ready for me as I for ye, lass.”
If I hadn't already been soaking wet, I would have been after those words. His voice was low, his eyes a shade or two darker from the pent up desire and I could feel his erection pressing against my leg. I nodded.
“Good.”
With that he kissed me again, pressing himself against me. I was not bound or gagged or blindfolded and yet I felt more helpless to him than I ever had before as his mouth moved down to plant little kisses on the tender spot between my neck and shoulder. I let out a little whimper and heard him chuckle in response. One hand found my breast, gently stroking and squeezing it, occasionally pausing to lightly pinch and twist my nipple. Already my head was spinning, and the tops of my thighs were becoming damp. His cock twitched against my leg repeatedly as his mouth moved from my neck to my breast and back up on the other side to my ear.
“I'd wanted ta drag this out a bit more, lass, but I find I want ya too badly. I know yer ready for me. Spread your legs, little girl.” His voice bordered on a growl, though there was something strangely tender about it.
I did as he asked and he positioned himself, then leaned down to kiss me. Just before he pushed forward, he said,
“Are ya sure yer ready to be mine?”
“Yes, Sir.”
His cock began to slide in to me and I groaned, having forgotten the size of it in our time apart. He began slowly, taking his time moving in and out of me, and did so until I was squirming under him, giving away my desperate need for more. He leaned in for one last gentle kiss before his hand slid behind my head and grabbed my hair at the scalp, pulling my head to the side and exposing my neck. His mouth found my skin once more as his thrusts became harder, his teeth first grazing then biting the sensitive little area he knew all too well.
“What are ya, Annie?” he growled in my ear.
“Yours, Sir.” I gasped in reply.
“Say it.” I could feel him holding back.
“I'm yours.”
“Good girl.”
He groaned and began to fuck me harder. As my arms were free for the first time with him, I reached behind and dug my nails in just a bit, dragging them down his back.
Little by little we lost ourselves to each other and the passion we were feeling. My legs went around his hips as I thrust up to meet him, pressing our bodies together. When he growled in my ear for me to play with myself, I did so gladly and quickly reached my first orgasm. Though he kept going, I could feel him tense as my muscles spasmed around him. I was in a fog and all I knew was that I could not get enough. Wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over us both, his teeth leaving marks on my pale skin just as my nails left on his. I was spinning, falling, loosing myself to him, and I didn't care. The whole thing felt like it would last forever and seemed to come to an end all too soon when he finally pushed in as deep as he could and let go inside of me.At the Manor, Part Two
December 9, 2013
Teaser from The Society Series Book 3, At The Manor, Part Two
In my first Teaser Time post (on my regular blog), we Sean working together with fellow slave Andy to sexually dominate the heroine, Annie. Over time, he proves to be more than proficient in this role, and a bond develops between he and Annie that leads to his Owner, Susan, offering to enroll him in a special program. As Sean was sold in to slavery in Ireland after loosing a bet, he has an option that born and acquired slaves do not - to be released and trained as a dominant. This chapter is a look at what the program is like for Sean towards the end. And don't worry, I'll be posting a steamy scene in a little while!
The day began as so many had at the program. Sean had been assigned both a male and a female slave to tend to him after his first couple of days there, and it was the female who woke him gently each morning. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, thanked her with a pat on the head and shuffled off to the bathroom. As Sean waited for the water to warm enough he found himself thinking back over the month or so that he had spent at the program compound.
There were several houses that served as living areas for the people in the program and those who ran it, as well as for the slaves that belonged to the program. He had expected the living arrangements to be like those he was used to at Susan and Arnold's manor, where there was a dorm-style room for the male slaves and a separate room of the same style for the females. He was pleasantly surprised to find that this was not the case. Each three story house had six or eight bedrooms that were small without being suffocatingly so, and each bedroom had it's own small bathroom. The furnishings were nothing like he had become accustomed to at the Manor either. There was a full sized bed with a plush mattress and fine linens, two small bedside tables that matched the wood frame of the bed, each with their own small lamp, a small bookcase and a comfortable wing back chair with an ottoman that sat opposite the bed, as well as a small table for meals.
Sean had no idea what happened during a mentorship, as the details of those were usually guarded very closely, but he had a feeling that he was getting the same thing in a much shorter time span. To make things even more intense, he had been told multiple times by the staff that he was progressing much faster than most of the former slaves that had come through. The first few days had been spent covering the rules, protocols and etiquette for Society Dominants, and while it was a lot of information to absorb, Sean had no problems. It wasn't so different from what was expected of the slaves, except for the parts that covered dealing with slaves, both those who belong to you and those who belonged to others. The rest of it simply seemed to be common sense as far as he was concerned.
After flying through that portion, they had moved him on to basic slave and submissive training techniques. Sean was surprised to find that so many of the others in these classes thought that the two were one and the same and had to remind himself that he might have been given a leg up there due to his time with Annie, as well as the dynamic between his former owners. Without that to help him bite his tongue he very well may have given a classmate or two a piece of his mind. The person in charge of that part of the program had to explain it to the others several times before they got it, and even asked for Sean's assistance with the subject. For some reason so many of the participants had a very difficult time understanding that there were some training techniques used on slaves that one should not use on a submissive, at least not without their consent.
As with the first part, Sean moved on from the training classes faster than anyone else save for one or two of his classmates. The third part of the program was much longer, filling about two weeks and dealing with the various tools of the trade and how to use them. This is where the slaves assigned to each participant came in to play. Starting with the basics – bare hand and small tools like paddles, clamps and gags – they learned how to use each both for pleasure and for punishment. They also covered how to punish a slave or submissive who enjoys pain too much for it to be used to correct behavior. Sean once again proved a natural, taking most to singletails and the florentine flogger style, as well as OTK spanking. While his progress had again been speedy, Sean chose to stay in this class the full two weeks to really get his techniques down.
In under a month Sean had managed to reach the fourth stage of the program. As so many within The Society used subliminal training on their slaves, the fourth part of the program was geared towards getting rid of any residual subliminally implanted ideas. Much of their slave training could be wiped clean with the classes during the first three parts, but not everything. The days were easier as there were no formal classes, only recordings that the participants were required to listen to for several hours each day. During this time they could work on their skills with the implements, go over things from other classes or simply enjoy the grounds. It was this that Sean had planned for his day once he got out of the shower.
The girl was waiting for him with a warm, fluffy towel as usual and dried him as he brushed his hair and teeth and went through the rest of his morning ritual. He dressed in a sharp pair of black slacks – a look that had quickly become a favorite of his – and a fitted blue t-shirt before sitting down to the breakfast that the male slave had brought up for him. Sean was just finishing his meal when there was a knock at his door. He nodded to the male slave, who in turn got up and answered the door. It was Francis, the man who had been in the one in charge of handling Sean's time at the program.
“Good morning Sean, how are you this morning?” He asked as the male slave fetched a chair for him.
“A good mornin' to ya as well, Francis. I'm quite well, thanks. Yourself?” He replied, motioning for the girl to pour Francis a cup of coffee.
“I'm just fine. Actually, I have a bit of news for you.” He replied, adding cream and sugar to his coffee. He paused to take a sip and then said,
“I wasn't planning to tell you until you were leaving the program, but some things have come up and your training has progressed so quickly that I feel now is as good a time as any. You know that I don't work full time with the program, that I'm usually only called in when they are short handed.”
“Yes, I remember you sayin' that.”
“Well, they weren't short handed this time. I found out from Susan and Arnold that you were coming here because of your involvement with Annie. I was her Mentor when she came in to The Society.”
“I had no idea.” Sean was stunned, and a little worried about where this was going.
“They let me know because of something Annie witnessed during the submissive portion of her mentorship. I'm sure she will tell you the gory details in her own time, so I'll just give you the basics. She witnessed a submissive who had been serving at the party we hosted that evening being abused by the couple that owned her, and from that night on it seemed as though she was just going through the motions until she moved on from that part of her mentorship. She pushed those urges down pretty far.”
Sean was silent for a moment, taking in what Francis had told him, then said,
“It did'na seem like goin' through the motions when she and I were together.”
“She may not have been. I've got to say, if you've brought that out of her, you've got something special. Don't hurt her.”
“I would never.”
“I'm glad to hear that. Now, the other reason that I'm here. Susan and Arnold got in touch with me because Annie is apparently freaking out a little. Seems she's had too much time to think about things with you gone. Since you've been progressing so rapidly, they decided to ask about the possibility of you graduating the program early. Personally, I don't see an issue with that. You're already very close to graduation.”
“Annie's freaking out? I don't think I've ever seen the lass do that.”
Francis chuckled.
“She doesn't do it often, that's for sure. It takes a lot to make her crack.”
“This must be pretty bad then?” Sean's concern for Annie was evident on his face.
“It seems that way. Now, you're currently in stage four, with the recordings five hours a day. If you double that to ten hours a day you could be out of here in a week. Stage five is simply a set of reviews and that only takes a day or two tops, depending on how you do. I don't think we need to worry about you on that one. What do you say?”
“If Annie's havin' that much trouble, I'd like ta get back as soon as I can.”
“I thought that might be the case. It's going to take a lot of hours, but I think you can pull it off.”
“I'll do m'best.”
“In that case, I'll leave you to it. You've already had three days of the recordings, which leaves you with four days plus your reviews. If you double up on the hours, you can cut that to two days plus reviews, probably four days total.”
“I'll be doin' m'best then.” He was visibly shaken.
“I know you will. I'll go inform Susan and Arnold.”
Francis left the room, and for a moment Sean simply stared at the wall. The conversation with Francis had not only left him worried for Annie, but had also forced him to confront the level of his feelings for her. The same few thoughts ran through his head over and over again. Was he going to loose her because of this? What would she be like when he returned? How much had changed, and how much of that change was because of her own fears getting in the way? Forcing the thoughts from his head, Sean picked up the mp3 player assigned to him, put the buds in his ears and pressed play. Grabbing the pair of floggers he had become fond of he headed out in to the field on the outer part of the compound to practice. Physical activity always helped clear his mind, so he barely noticed the time slipping by. It had been four hours when his slaves brought his lunch out to him. He ate without thinking, his mind elsewhere.
After lunch he returned to his room to change in to his running attire. There was a five mile loop around the compound and he had made that loop many, many times since coming to the program. It was a beautiful route with a canopy of leaves over most of it and a smooth, rock-free path. As soon as his feet hit the path leading away from the house he was in he was jogging, breaking in to a dead run when he hit the running path. Two hours and two and a half laps later, he was drenched in sweat but not yet ready to stop for the day. Slowing to a jog for a mile or so, he decided to walk the last bit to make it an even three laps even though it would take him about an hour to walk the rest of the loop and back to the house. He didn't care, so long as it kept him from worrying himself sick.
Sean finally returned to the house about an hour before dinner. Removing the ear buds and shutting off the player, he stripped out of his workout clothes and headed for the shower that the girl already had running for him. The hot water felt wonderful and he spent more time just standing under the spray than anything else. It wasn't until the water began to cool that he stepped out to be dried. Just as breakfast had been that morning, his dinner was waiting on the little table with the book he had been reading in the evenings next to it. He thanked his slaves and sent them to their dinner, then replaced the ear buds and sat down to eat. After the practice time with the floggers and his run, Sean was exhausted. Still, he had three hours left with the player before he could go to sleep.
When he had finished his meal and his slaves had returned he left the male to clean up and took the female out in to a small wooded area near the house, toy bag in hand. Of course, he had been told that fucking the slaves assigned to him was not only acceptable but almost expected. He had not, however, made use of the girl and the boy held no interest for him in that manner. What he had in mind for her that night was the closest he would get to using the attractive slave girl in his command. From the bag he took a length of rope and looped one end around a smaller tree, then formed the free end in to a cuff around the girl's left wrist. With a second length of rope, he did the same to the right, and then to both of her ankles. When she was securely fastened to the trees beside her, he retrieved his favorite floggers from the bag, walked behind her and quickly found his rhythm. He had not practiced on her outside of the classes, but now he needed something to keep his body awake and his mind occupied. He felt lucky that she was the type that enjoyed pain at that moment as the leather tails began to turn her flesh a light pink.
An hour passed this way, both of them hardly noticing the passing of time. When Sean finally realized how long it had been he put the floggers down and pulled two bottles of water from the bag. He downed half of one himself then opened the second and put a straw in it before holding it to the girl's mouth. She gave him a content little smile and began to drink. It was all he could do to keep from thinking of his Annie back at the manor as he watched the girl drain the bottle. When the water was gone he found the little vibrator he had been given in a side pocket of the bag and, holding it in front of the girl's face, spoke over the recording playing in his ears.
“Now, am I right in thinkin' ya might be wantin' this little device now?”
“Yes, Sir.” She replied, her voice shaking with anticipation.
“I ought ta make ya beg for it lass, but ya've been so good today.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Sean turned the vibrator on and quickly found the girl's clit. Slipping an arm around her he slipped a finger in to her dripping pussy and pressed the vibe against her clit harder. The first orgasm hit hard and fast and the girl arched, twisting against her restraints as it did. Sean smiled. He coaxed her to a second, third and fourth orgasm before stopping. She was practically limp against the ropes by then and he had to put an arm around her waist to steady her as he untied her. He wrapped the half alert slave girl in the blanket from the bag and lay her down gently on the leaf covered ground, her head in his lap. They sat like that for nearly a half an hour before she was able to stand and walk enough to return to the house. He turned her over to the staff person responsible for seeing to the slaves when they were not needed and made his way back to his room where he dismissed the male slave for the night. Glancing at the clock by the bed, he saw that he had only an hour left. Caving to his own desires, he gave himself some much needed relief before cleaning up and getting ready for bed. He filled his final half hour with mindless tasks simply to stay awake, and when that half hour was done he gratefully removed the ear buds, lay down and slipped in to a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next day passed in much the same way, Sean doing everything he could to keep himself awake. At the end of the day, just as he was getting ready for bed, Francis came to see him again.
“I wont keep you long.” He said, watching Sean busy himself with packing his suitcase. “I know you've worked yourself hard today and yesterday. I just wanted to let you know that you have your reviews in the morning at ten.”
“Thanks. I don't think I could have done another day like this tomorrow, honestly. I need more time to recover, but I also needed to shut my mind off. I'm really worried about my Annie.” The last words slipped out before he could catch himself, and Francis smiled.
“I have no doubt that you will fly through your reviews tomorrow. The only reason you would need to stay another day after that would be to select your new things before your return. However, since I know you're worried about Annie, as am I, if you'd like to give me a list of things you need I can see that there is a bag waiting for you after the reviews tomorrow. You could be back at the manor before dinner tomorrow evening.”
Without speaking Sean quickly found a pen and paper and jotted out a list of clothing and other items he would need. It was a fairly short list, as he figured he could acquire the rest after returning home. Francis glanced over the list when it was handed to him and made a mental note to put in a few extra things for the party that would be thrown to welcome Sean in to The Society in his new role.
“Well, I will leave you to your rest. Best of luck to you in the morning, and I will see you when you are finished.” Francis said, reaching out to shake Sean's hand.
“Thank ye very much for everything, Francis.” Sean replied. It wasn't long until he was sound asleep once more.
***
When he awoke on his final day at the program, he could barely contain his excitement. Doing his best to remain calm, he showered and dressed in black slacks, a black t-shirt and black button up. He ate every bit of his breakfast but barely tasted any of it. At nine-thirty, he gathered everything he would need and headed across the compound to the main building for his reviews. The first hour or so was an interview, though it felt more like an interrogation to many who went through it. After that came a demonstration of proficiency with various toys and tools. Lastly came a step by step review of his time in the program and a tallying of the hours spent with the mp3 player. Finally, one of the review board said,
“You've really impressed us, Sean. Susan and Arnold were right to send you to us. We are happy to say that you have completed the program with flying colors, and that if you'd ever like a position at one of the program locations, just let us know.”
“Thank ye all very much.” He replied.
“You are very welcome. Now, Francis has informed us that you have a very special lady to get home to, so we will mail the papers to Susan and Arnold's manor for you.”
After a few more thank yous and handshakes, Sean was finally dismissed. He took the stairs two at a time, and when he reached his room he found Francis waiting for him. There was a shower running and fresh clothing laid out on the bed for him. With a quick nod to Francis he headed for the bathroom and showered as fast as he could while making sure to shave carefully. For one of the only times since he had been there he toweled himself off, then wrapped the towel around his waist to retrieve his clothing. Francis conveniently stepped out on a phone call just as Sean entered the bedroom and he smiled a little at this courtesy. The pants laid out were deep black denim instead of his usual dress slacks and with it was one of his favorite shirts, a well fitted emerald green t-shirt that flattered his coloring perfectly. He checked over the room one last time to make sure he had everything, then found Francis in the hall.
“Ready to go home?” Francis asked with a small smile.
“More than I'll ever be.” Sean replied.
The day began as so many had at the program. Sean had been assigned both a male and a female slave to tend to him after his first couple of days there, and it was the female who woke him gently each morning. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, thanked her with a pat on the head and shuffled off to the bathroom. As Sean waited for the water to warm enough he found himself thinking back over the month or so that he had spent at the program compound.
There were several houses that served as living areas for the people in the program and those who ran it, as well as for the slaves that belonged to the program. He had expected the living arrangements to be like those he was used to at Susan and Arnold's manor, where there was a dorm-style room for the male slaves and a separate room of the same style for the females. He was pleasantly surprised to find that this was not the case. Each three story house had six or eight bedrooms that were small without being suffocatingly so, and each bedroom had it's own small bathroom. The furnishings were nothing like he had become accustomed to at the Manor either. There was a full sized bed with a plush mattress and fine linens, two small bedside tables that matched the wood frame of the bed, each with their own small lamp, a small bookcase and a comfortable wing back chair with an ottoman that sat opposite the bed, as well as a small table for meals.
Sean had no idea what happened during a mentorship, as the details of those were usually guarded very closely, but he had a feeling that he was getting the same thing in a much shorter time span. To make things even more intense, he had been told multiple times by the staff that he was progressing much faster than most of the former slaves that had come through. The first few days had been spent covering the rules, protocols and etiquette for Society Dominants, and while it was a lot of information to absorb, Sean had no problems. It wasn't so different from what was expected of the slaves, except for the parts that covered dealing with slaves, both those who belong to you and those who belonged to others. The rest of it simply seemed to be common sense as far as he was concerned.
After flying through that portion, they had moved him on to basic slave and submissive training techniques. Sean was surprised to find that so many of the others in these classes thought that the two were one and the same and had to remind himself that he might have been given a leg up there due to his time with Annie, as well as the dynamic between his former owners. Without that to help him bite his tongue he very well may have given a classmate or two a piece of his mind. The person in charge of that part of the program had to explain it to the others several times before they got it, and even asked for Sean's assistance with the subject. For some reason so many of the participants had a very difficult time understanding that there were some training techniques used on slaves that one should not use on a submissive, at least not without their consent.
As with the first part, Sean moved on from the training classes faster than anyone else save for one or two of his classmates. The third part of the program was much longer, filling about two weeks and dealing with the various tools of the trade and how to use them. This is where the slaves assigned to each participant came in to play. Starting with the basics – bare hand and small tools like paddles, clamps and gags – they learned how to use each both for pleasure and for punishment. They also covered how to punish a slave or submissive who enjoys pain too much for it to be used to correct behavior. Sean once again proved a natural, taking most to singletails and the florentine flogger style, as well as OTK spanking. While his progress had again been speedy, Sean chose to stay in this class the full two weeks to really get his techniques down.
In under a month Sean had managed to reach the fourth stage of the program. As so many within The Society used subliminal training on their slaves, the fourth part of the program was geared towards getting rid of any residual subliminally implanted ideas. Much of their slave training could be wiped clean with the classes during the first three parts, but not everything. The days were easier as there were no formal classes, only recordings that the participants were required to listen to for several hours each day. During this time they could work on their skills with the implements, go over things from other classes or simply enjoy the grounds. It was this that Sean had planned for his day once he got out of the shower.
The girl was waiting for him with a warm, fluffy towel as usual and dried him as he brushed his hair and teeth and went through the rest of his morning ritual. He dressed in a sharp pair of black slacks – a look that had quickly become a favorite of his – and a fitted blue t-shirt before sitting down to the breakfast that the male slave had brought up for him. Sean was just finishing his meal when there was a knock at his door. He nodded to the male slave, who in turn got up and answered the door. It was Francis, the man who had been in the one in charge of handling Sean's time at the program.
“Good morning Sean, how are you this morning?” He asked as the male slave fetched a chair for him.
“A good mornin' to ya as well, Francis. I'm quite well, thanks. Yourself?” He replied, motioning for the girl to pour Francis a cup of coffee.
“I'm just fine. Actually, I have a bit of news for you.” He replied, adding cream and sugar to his coffee. He paused to take a sip and then said,
“I wasn't planning to tell you until you were leaving the program, but some things have come up and your training has progressed so quickly that I feel now is as good a time as any. You know that I don't work full time with the program, that I'm usually only called in when they are short handed.”
“Yes, I remember you sayin' that.”
“Well, they weren't short handed this time. I found out from Susan and Arnold that you were coming here because of your involvement with Annie. I was her Mentor when she came in to The Society.”
“I had no idea.” Sean was stunned, and a little worried about where this was going.
“They let me know because of something Annie witnessed during the submissive portion of her mentorship. I'm sure she will tell you the gory details in her own time, so I'll just give you the basics. She witnessed a submissive who had been serving at the party we hosted that evening being abused by the couple that owned her, and from that night on it seemed as though she was just going through the motions until she moved on from that part of her mentorship. She pushed those urges down pretty far.”
Sean was silent for a moment, taking in what Francis had told him, then said,
“It did'na seem like goin' through the motions when she and I were together.”
“She may not have been. I've got to say, if you've brought that out of her, you've got something special. Don't hurt her.”
“I would never.”
“I'm glad to hear that. Now, the other reason that I'm here. Susan and Arnold got in touch with me because Annie is apparently freaking out a little. Seems she's had too much time to think about things with you gone. Since you've been progressing so rapidly, they decided to ask about the possibility of you graduating the program early. Personally, I don't see an issue with that. You're already very close to graduation.”
“Annie's freaking out? I don't think I've ever seen the lass do that.”
Francis chuckled.
“She doesn't do it often, that's for sure. It takes a lot to make her crack.”
“This must be pretty bad then?” Sean's concern for Annie was evident on his face.
“It seems that way. Now, you're currently in stage four, with the recordings five hours a day. If you double that to ten hours a day you could be out of here in a week. Stage five is simply a set of reviews and that only takes a day or two tops, depending on how you do. I don't think we need to worry about you on that one. What do you say?”
“If Annie's havin' that much trouble, I'd like ta get back as soon as I can.”
“I thought that might be the case. It's going to take a lot of hours, but I think you can pull it off.”
“I'll do m'best.”
“In that case, I'll leave you to it. You've already had three days of the recordings, which leaves you with four days plus your reviews. If you double up on the hours, you can cut that to two days plus reviews, probably four days total.”
“I'll be doin' m'best then.” He was visibly shaken.
“I know you will. I'll go inform Susan and Arnold.”
Francis left the room, and for a moment Sean simply stared at the wall. The conversation with Francis had not only left him worried for Annie, but had also forced him to confront the level of his feelings for her. The same few thoughts ran through his head over and over again. Was he going to loose her because of this? What would she be like when he returned? How much had changed, and how much of that change was because of her own fears getting in the way? Forcing the thoughts from his head, Sean picked up the mp3 player assigned to him, put the buds in his ears and pressed play. Grabbing the pair of floggers he had become fond of he headed out in to the field on the outer part of the compound to practice. Physical activity always helped clear his mind, so he barely noticed the time slipping by. It had been four hours when his slaves brought his lunch out to him. He ate without thinking, his mind elsewhere.
After lunch he returned to his room to change in to his running attire. There was a five mile loop around the compound and he had made that loop many, many times since coming to the program. It was a beautiful route with a canopy of leaves over most of it and a smooth, rock-free path. As soon as his feet hit the path leading away from the house he was in he was jogging, breaking in to a dead run when he hit the running path. Two hours and two and a half laps later, he was drenched in sweat but not yet ready to stop for the day. Slowing to a jog for a mile or so, he decided to walk the last bit to make it an even three laps even though it would take him about an hour to walk the rest of the loop and back to the house. He didn't care, so long as it kept him from worrying himself sick.
Sean finally returned to the house about an hour before dinner. Removing the ear buds and shutting off the player, he stripped out of his workout clothes and headed for the shower that the girl already had running for him. The hot water felt wonderful and he spent more time just standing under the spray than anything else. It wasn't until the water began to cool that he stepped out to be dried. Just as breakfast had been that morning, his dinner was waiting on the little table with the book he had been reading in the evenings next to it. He thanked his slaves and sent them to their dinner, then replaced the ear buds and sat down to eat. After the practice time with the floggers and his run, Sean was exhausted. Still, he had three hours left with the player before he could go to sleep.
When he had finished his meal and his slaves had returned he left the male to clean up and took the female out in to a small wooded area near the house, toy bag in hand. Of course, he had been told that fucking the slaves assigned to him was not only acceptable but almost expected. He had not, however, made use of the girl and the boy held no interest for him in that manner. What he had in mind for her that night was the closest he would get to using the attractive slave girl in his command. From the bag he took a length of rope and looped one end around a smaller tree, then formed the free end in to a cuff around the girl's left wrist. With a second length of rope, he did the same to the right, and then to both of her ankles. When she was securely fastened to the trees beside her, he retrieved his favorite floggers from the bag, walked behind her and quickly found his rhythm. He had not practiced on her outside of the classes, but now he needed something to keep his body awake and his mind occupied. He felt lucky that she was the type that enjoyed pain at that moment as the leather tails began to turn her flesh a light pink.
An hour passed this way, both of them hardly noticing the passing of time. When Sean finally realized how long it had been he put the floggers down and pulled two bottles of water from the bag. He downed half of one himself then opened the second and put a straw in it before holding it to the girl's mouth. She gave him a content little smile and began to drink. It was all he could do to keep from thinking of his Annie back at the manor as he watched the girl drain the bottle. When the water was gone he found the little vibrator he had been given in a side pocket of the bag and, holding it in front of the girl's face, spoke over the recording playing in his ears.
“Now, am I right in thinkin' ya might be wantin' this little device now?”
“Yes, Sir.” She replied, her voice shaking with anticipation.
“I ought ta make ya beg for it lass, but ya've been so good today.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Sean turned the vibrator on and quickly found the girl's clit. Slipping an arm around her he slipped a finger in to her dripping pussy and pressed the vibe against her clit harder. The first orgasm hit hard and fast and the girl arched, twisting against her restraints as it did. Sean smiled. He coaxed her to a second, third and fourth orgasm before stopping. She was practically limp against the ropes by then and he had to put an arm around her waist to steady her as he untied her. He wrapped the half alert slave girl in the blanket from the bag and lay her down gently on the leaf covered ground, her head in his lap. They sat like that for nearly a half an hour before she was able to stand and walk enough to return to the house. He turned her over to the staff person responsible for seeing to the slaves when they were not needed and made his way back to his room where he dismissed the male slave for the night. Glancing at the clock by the bed, he saw that he had only an hour left. Caving to his own desires, he gave himself some much needed relief before cleaning up and getting ready for bed. He filled his final half hour with mindless tasks simply to stay awake, and when that half hour was done he gratefully removed the ear buds, lay down and slipped in to a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next day passed in much the same way, Sean doing everything he could to keep himself awake. At the end of the day, just as he was getting ready for bed, Francis came to see him again.
“I wont keep you long.” He said, watching Sean busy himself with packing his suitcase. “I know you've worked yourself hard today and yesterday. I just wanted to let you know that you have your reviews in the morning at ten.”
“Thanks. I don't think I could have done another day like this tomorrow, honestly. I need more time to recover, but I also needed to shut my mind off. I'm really worried about my Annie.” The last words slipped out before he could catch himself, and Francis smiled.
“I have no doubt that you will fly through your reviews tomorrow. The only reason you would need to stay another day after that would be to select your new things before your return. However, since I know you're worried about Annie, as am I, if you'd like to give me a list of things you need I can see that there is a bag waiting for you after the reviews tomorrow. You could be back at the manor before dinner tomorrow evening.”
Without speaking Sean quickly found a pen and paper and jotted out a list of clothing and other items he would need. It was a fairly short list, as he figured he could acquire the rest after returning home. Francis glanced over the list when it was handed to him and made a mental note to put in a few extra things for the party that would be thrown to welcome Sean in to The Society in his new role.
“Well, I will leave you to your rest. Best of luck to you in the morning, and I will see you when you are finished.” Francis said, reaching out to shake Sean's hand.
“Thank ye very much for everything, Francis.” Sean replied. It wasn't long until he was sound asleep once more.
***
When he awoke on his final day at the program, he could barely contain his excitement. Doing his best to remain calm, he showered and dressed in black slacks, a black t-shirt and black button up. He ate every bit of his breakfast but barely tasted any of it. At nine-thirty, he gathered everything he would need and headed across the compound to the main building for his reviews. The first hour or so was an interview, though it felt more like an interrogation to many who went through it. After that came a demonstration of proficiency with various toys and tools. Lastly came a step by step review of his time in the program and a tallying of the hours spent with the mp3 player. Finally, one of the review board said,
“You've really impressed us, Sean. Susan and Arnold were right to send you to us. We are happy to say that you have completed the program with flying colors, and that if you'd ever like a position at one of the program locations, just let us know.”
“Thank ye all very much.” He replied.
“You are very welcome. Now, Francis has informed us that you have a very special lady to get home to, so we will mail the papers to Susan and Arnold's manor for you.”
After a few more thank yous and handshakes, Sean was finally dismissed. He took the stairs two at a time, and when he reached his room he found Francis waiting for him. There was a shower running and fresh clothing laid out on the bed for him. With a quick nod to Francis he headed for the bathroom and showered as fast as he could while making sure to shave carefully. For one of the only times since he had been there he toweled himself off, then wrapped the towel around his waist to retrieve his clothing. Francis conveniently stepped out on a phone call just as Sean entered the bedroom and he smiled a little at this courtesy. The pants laid out were deep black denim instead of his usual dress slacks and with it was one of his favorite shirts, a well fitted emerald green t-shirt that flattered his coloring perfectly. He checked over the room one last time to make sure he had everything, then found Francis in the hall.
“Ready to go home?” Francis asked with a small smile.
“More than I'll ever be.” Sean replied.
September 18, 2012
Punishment: Pain or Discomfort?
As I look over the skeletal outline for the next book in the Slut University series, I am faced with the task of introducing something that has til now been shown only once – punishment – and something completely new – funsihment, or pain play for fun. In my own life, I have always been torn when it comes to the concept of using pain for punishment. This stems from an early Lifestyle relationship of mine, and the fact that I am more than just slightly masochistic. I was two months or so shy of nineteen when I met this man – I’ll call him by a favorite nick name, Marius – and so he played a great role in shaping my view of all things kink. Looking back, I am extremely grateful that I did not have to fend completely for myself , as the information available online and in books at the time was sparse and confusing. He steered me away from blindly following the letter of what little I could find and encouraged me to form my own thoughts and beliefs.
In those early days, I believed that pain was the only way to go for punishment, regardless of my own enjoyment of it. It was Marius who taught me differently, luckily before I found myself in trouble with him. The point he made has stayed with me over the years, and now finds its way in to my writing. If you are dealing with a masochist of any kind, and you use pain to punish them, over time their pain tolerance will increase and you will have to use harsher methods. If you must use pain, there are two ways that can remain effective without needing to become more intense. One of these is to couple the pain with something else – say a hard spanking with a lecture at the same time. Surprising how effective that can be, the words often stinging more than the swats to the backside. The other way is to use a method or implement seriously disliked or hated by the person on the receiving end, such as the cane used for Blaire’s punishment in Fetishes and Fears. Either way, making it perfectly clear that what is happening is punishment and not for fun is a necessity.
Now, as I seek to introduce my character Allie to punishment more directly, I face the dilemma of how to go about doing so. Do I use the methods so often seen in kink writing, intense pain, overly harsh words and isolation? Or do I use something I am more familiar with, something taken from my own life? Physical discomfort without direct application of pain, words pointed and stinging that stay long after they are said while leaving no permanent scars? It’s a tough call. I’m torn between drawing on my own life experience and taking what seems to be the more popular route.
When it comes down to it, all I can do is be true to myself, which means pain for punishment only under certain circumstances. Pain for pleasure, or fun, is a totally different matter. I’m sure I’m not the only masochist who will say that a good spanking, or hard flogging, or whatever their personal favorite may be, can be both pleasurable and cathartic. A little pain in the midst of pleasure – a perfect example being the cliche of playful spanking while being taken from behind – can heighten the pleasure more than many might think. I far prefer to introduce Allie to pain in this manner, though perhaps at a later date it will be used in other ways. That’s not to say that there may not be “discipline” scenes with pain, scenes that I have seen referred to as “funishment”. Faux punishment for the enjoyment of both or all parties involved. In my opinion, these sorts of scenes show the use of pain in a different light, as well of those who live this lifestyle. It is easy for one to cry abuse when the submissive in a piece is being beaten til bruises and welts cover their backside completely because of some infraction, but much harder when the same submissive is begging for it, reaching orgasm or genuinely thanking their dominant. So that’s how I will show it. While Allie may or may not be modeled after myself, in this she will be, becoming a masochist as well as a slut for her Master.
In those early days, I believed that pain was the only way to go for punishment, regardless of my own enjoyment of it. It was Marius who taught me differently, luckily before I found myself in trouble with him. The point he made has stayed with me over the years, and now finds its way in to my writing. If you are dealing with a masochist of any kind, and you use pain to punish them, over time their pain tolerance will increase and you will have to use harsher methods. If you must use pain, there are two ways that can remain effective without needing to become more intense. One of these is to couple the pain with something else – say a hard spanking with a lecture at the same time. Surprising how effective that can be, the words often stinging more than the swats to the backside. The other way is to use a method or implement seriously disliked or hated by the person on the receiving end, such as the cane used for Blaire’s punishment in Fetishes and Fears. Either way, making it perfectly clear that what is happening is punishment and not for fun is a necessity.
Now, as I seek to introduce my character Allie to punishment more directly, I face the dilemma of how to go about doing so. Do I use the methods so often seen in kink writing, intense pain, overly harsh words and isolation? Or do I use something I am more familiar with, something taken from my own life? Physical discomfort without direct application of pain, words pointed and stinging that stay long after they are said while leaving no permanent scars? It’s a tough call. I’m torn between drawing on my own life experience and taking what seems to be the more popular route.
When it comes down to it, all I can do is be true to myself, which means pain for punishment only under certain circumstances. Pain for pleasure, or fun, is a totally different matter. I’m sure I’m not the only masochist who will say that a good spanking, or hard flogging, or whatever their personal favorite may be, can be both pleasurable and cathartic. A little pain in the midst of pleasure – a perfect example being the cliche of playful spanking while being taken from behind – can heighten the pleasure more than many might think. I far prefer to introduce Allie to pain in this manner, though perhaps at a later date it will be used in other ways. That’s not to say that there may not be “discipline” scenes with pain, scenes that I have seen referred to as “funishment”. Faux punishment for the enjoyment of both or all parties involved. In my opinion, these sorts of scenes show the use of pain in a different light, as well of those who live this lifestyle. It is easy for one to cry abuse when the submissive in a piece is being beaten til bruises and welts cover their backside completely because of some infraction, but much harder when the same submissive is begging for it, reaching orgasm or genuinely thanking their dominant. So that’s how I will show it. While Allie may or may not be modeled after myself, in this she will be, becoming a masochist as well as a slut for her Master.
September 12, 2012
Book Teaser from Becoming Charity
This teaser comes from the first book in The Society, Becoming Charity. Actually, this scene is part of where the title came from. After hard training and being bred, Annie's first slave Cunt, a.k.a Charity is introduced to the world of breeding porn. This scene is a great example of how the frigid, resistant, man-hating girl has been turned in to a cock-hungry nympho. Enjoy!
I turned them over to Derek and went back in to the basement to see to Cunt. It was already one, and the crew would be arriving in about an hour. I had her dress in a black garter belt, black fishnet back seam stockings, a tight, black strapless mini-dress and five inch pumps, then settled her in a chair.
“I am going to place you in a wig for this Cunt, as this is not the type of fetish sight for a girl with a shaved head. I may have you work for one of those eventually, but for now we give them what they want.”
With a high-grade prosthetic adhesive, I attached a wavy, chocolate colored wig to her freshly shaved head. Brushed and styled, it fell to just below her shoulders. It had that just-fucked bed head look to it, which was why I had chosen it. With that, I applied a smokey eye shadow, black liner and cheap mascara that I knew would run when the men shot their loads on her face. Her lips were stained a cherry red, lined with a darker red and set with a fixative before being covered with a thick coat of clear gloss. She looked like a hooker, and I was satisfied. Slutty without being trashy, exactly what the director wanted. When I allowed her to look at herself in the mirror, I could tell that she didn't recognize herself. Just then the doorbell rang. I knew that Honey, who was on duty upstairs, would get it, so I took one last minute to give instructions to Cunt.
“You are not to speak unless I speak to you, or give you permission to, is that understood?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Good girl.”
She followed me up to the living room and barely batted an eye at the number of men in the room. I pointed to a spot on the floor and she obediently knelt there. Derek introduced me to Greg and his camera crew, and I could feel the man trying to undress me with his eyes. I was at once very glad I had insisted on using my own men.
“It's very nice to finally meet you.” I said as we shook hands. “The girl kneeling over there is the one that I contacted you about.”
“She will do nicely. She can handle twelve cocks in a matter of a few hours?”
I laughed a little.
“She can actually take more than that, but I thought twelve was a good number for the amount of space.”
“That makes sense. Well, you do have a lovely home here. However, one of the customers had made the suggestion of using a seedy hotel room. We found one that should work that, according to the directions, is about fifteen minutes from here.”
“That's a great idea. If you give Honey over there a copy of the directions, we can meet you there.”
“Alright. I will need each of the men to sign a release first.”
“Of course. Just pass them out, and they will be happy to sign them.”
He did as I said, and within half an hour, the snake-like man was out of my house and I was placing Cunt in her cuffs to transport her. Honey had, with Derek's help, prepared a bag of things that I might need. When Cunt was fully hobbled, we placed her and Honey in the back seat of my car and headed for the motel.
The director was being overly kind when he called the place a little seedy. I was extremely glad that Derek had instructed Honey to pack a set of my own plain white sheets and towels, as I didn't trust the ones provided and I hadn't even seen the inside of the room yet. The room was a spacious jacuzzi suite, but that seemed to be where the niceties ended. Before I would even let Cunt in the room, Honey stripped the bed and remade it with our sheets after thoroughly spraying the mattress with disinfectant. Both the tub and the bathroom also got sprayed down. Finally satisfied, I allowed her in to the room, and the director looked more than a little annoyed with me. I removed Cunt's bonds and then tossed a spare sheet over the worn couch and Derek and I settled in to watch with Honey kneeling respectfully at our feet. For the first time since beginning her training, Cunt had full permission to speak in the first person. I had decided to have her go by the name Charity, as it seemed appropriate, and a bit ironic for what was going on. With the cameras rolling, the questions began.
“So, what's your name?” The director asked her from out of view.
“Charity.” She replied, only the slightest hint of awkwardness in her voice.
“Hi, Charity. Why are you here today?”
“To get fucked.” She squirmed a little and gave the camera a flirty look. “And knocked up.”
“Yeah? You like the idea of getting knocked up on camera?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Well, we've got twelve guys here for you today. How do you feel about not knowing which one got you pregnant?”
“That's the best part.” She replied in a very seductive manner. The director chuckled.
“Well, here come the guys now. Why don't you kneel right there in the middle of the floor.”
Cunt obeyed, knowing better than to disobey in front of me. She knelt with her knees wide for support as the first of the men approached her, cocks already out and in hand. She reached for the ones directly on either side of her and while stroking one, wrapped her glistening red lips around the other to take it deep. As her head bobbed on the huge cock, one of the men grabbed the top of her dress and pulled it down to just under her tits. Reaching around from behind her, he pinched and twisted her nipples as she began to go back and forth between the cocks on either side. After a few minutes of this, the men began to rotate in and out so that each got their turn in her mouth. The man who was now behind her pulled the dress up to her waist, exposing her garters and pussy. With one hand he tortured her already tender nipples while with the other he grabbed and rubbed roughly at her crotch. Like the well trained whore she was becoming, Cunt began to grind herself on his hand, moaning loudly around the cock in her mouth.
“Looks like you really like sucking cock, Charity.” The director chuckled from off screen.
She barely nodded in response, too lost in what she was doing. The man behind her was now shoving two fingers roughly in and out of her twat and her hips seemed to take on a life of their own. When the director gave the signal, the men backed off and one of them picked Cunt up and set her on all fours on the bed over one of the other guys. Before she knew what was going on, he had shoved his monster of a cock up in to her pussy and another cock was poised and ready at her mouth. Steadying herself with her hands, Cunt was able to both suck and ride cock at the same time. I smiled a little to myself, knowing that it was I who had trained her to do this.
The man who was fucking her grabbed her by the hips and slammed in to her as he began to cum inside her. Cunt pulled back from the cock in her mouth and screamed,
“Oh god, yes, I can feel you cumming inside of me!”
That's all she was able to get before the man who had been in her mouth grabbed her head and forced it back down. You could see her throat bulge as the eleven inch cock pushed its way in to her throat and from the look on the mans face one could tell that he was shooting his load down her throat. When both men pulled out, Cunt licked her lips hungrily and wiggled her hips in invitation to the others. It wasn't long before someone grabbed her from behind and impaled her on his throbbing twelve inch pole. I knew this man well, as he had often paid to use Cunt. I even had my suspicions that he was the father of the baby she was carrying. She cried out as he slammed in and out of her hole,
“God, yes, fuck me! Knock me up, baby!”
Again, she was quickly silenced by another cock in her mouth and she slurped on it like it was her last meal. The man in her cunt fucked her hard enough to slam her mouth down on the other cock over and over again, eventually bringing both of the men to simultaneous climax. When they pulled out, the camera man behind her zoomed in as the director said,
“Spread your hole open, let us see that cum in it.”
She did exactly as told and one of the men reached down to rub from her gaping hole to her clit. When the camera man zoomed back out, the man followed the lead of the others and pushed in to her hard. To the surprise of all, he lasted only a couple of minutes before adding his load to that already dripping down Cunt's thighs.
The next man who stepped up grabbed Cunt and flipped her over so that her head was hanging back over the edge of the bed before pushing in to her. In this position, her mouth was also quickly filled and she gagged as he throat was fucked just as hard as her pussy. The man fucking her mouth reached down and rubbed her clit and she quickly reached orgasm, her back arching as she did. She was forced to several more before receiving each of their loads in their respective holes. For almost two hours the men took turns fucking her until each had their turn in both holes. As Cunt lay back against the pillows, legs spread and fingers idly rubbing her swollen and glistening pussy, the director said,
“How do you feel, Charity?”
“Empty.” She replied with a giggle.
“Do you need another cock, slut?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, good. We have a little surprise for you.”
With that, the man who had gone first lay down on the bed, his eleven inch cock standing strait up. Right away she straddled him and he pulled her down so that she was laying on him. A second man with an equally large cock knelt behind her and pushed easily in to her ass as she groaned her fullness. Finally, a third and slightly smaller man positioned his cock in front of her mouth and she sucked hard on it as the two men in her other holes found their rhythm. My little slut was air tight and being pounded hard in all three of her holes, the look on her face one of pure bliss. The man in her baby hole orgasmed and just before the other men came, they pulled out and forced Cunt down on the bed on her back. The man who had just filled her pussy held her back, pulling her legs up to her shoulders and ordered her to spread herself open. The two other men who hand just been inside of her jacked off until they had shot their cum all over her gaping hole and then, yanking her dress all the way off, forced her to her knees on the floor. As a finale, the remaining men surrounded her and covered her face and tits with their contributions. When they were done, her mascara was running down her face and she smiled at the camera as she rubbed her breasts and licked the cum off them.
“Now how do you feel?” The director asked.
“Knocked up!” She said directly to the camera with a huge grin on her face.
I knew right then that she had really accepted her fate as my breeding slave. When we finally got Cunt home and cleaned up, it was almost nine. We put both of the girls to bed and then went to bed ourselves.
I turned them over to Derek and went back in to the basement to see to Cunt. It was already one, and the crew would be arriving in about an hour. I had her dress in a black garter belt, black fishnet back seam stockings, a tight, black strapless mini-dress and five inch pumps, then settled her in a chair.
“I am going to place you in a wig for this Cunt, as this is not the type of fetish sight for a girl with a shaved head. I may have you work for one of those eventually, but for now we give them what they want.”
With a high-grade prosthetic adhesive, I attached a wavy, chocolate colored wig to her freshly shaved head. Brushed and styled, it fell to just below her shoulders. It had that just-fucked bed head look to it, which was why I had chosen it. With that, I applied a smokey eye shadow, black liner and cheap mascara that I knew would run when the men shot their loads on her face. Her lips were stained a cherry red, lined with a darker red and set with a fixative before being covered with a thick coat of clear gloss. She looked like a hooker, and I was satisfied. Slutty without being trashy, exactly what the director wanted. When I allowed her to look at herself in the mirror, I could tell that she didn't recognize herself. Just then the doorbell rang. I knew that Honey, who was on duty upstairs, would get it, so I took one last minute to give instructions to Cunt.
“You are not to speak unless I speak to you, or give you permission to, is that understood?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Good girl.”
She followed me up to the living room and barely batted an eye at the number of men in the room. I pointed to a spot on the floor and she obediently knelt there. Derek introduced me to Greg and his camera crew, and I could feel the man trying to undress me with his eyes. I was at once very glad I had insisted on using my own men.
“It's very nice to finally meet you.” I said as we shook hands. “The girl kneeling over there is the one that I contacted you about.”
“She will do nicely. She can handle twelve cocks in a matter of a few hours?”
I laughed a little.
“She can actually take more than that, but I thought twelve was a good number for the amount of space.”
“That makes sense. Well, you do have a lovely home here. However, one of the customers had made the suggestion of using a seedy hotel room. We found one that should work that, according to the directions, is about fifteen minutes from here.”
“That's a great idea. If you give Honey over there a copy of the directions, we can meet you there.”
“Alright. I will need each of the men to sign a release first.”
“Of course. Just pass them out, and they will be happy to sign them.”
He did as I said, and within half an hour, the snake-like man was out of my house and I was placing Cunt in her cuffs to transport her. Honey had, with Derek's help, prepared a bag of things that I might need. When Cunt was fully hobbled, we placed her and Honey in the back seat of my car and headed for the motel.
The director was being overly kind when he called the place a little seedy. I was extremely glad that Derek had instructed Honey to pack a set of my own plain white sheets and towels, as I didn't trust the ones provided and I hadn't even seen the inside of the room yet. The room was a spacious jacuzzi suite, but that seemed to be where the niceties ended. Before I would even let Cunt in the room, Honey stripped the bed and remade it with our sheets after thoroughly spraying the mattress with disinfectant. Both the tub and the bathroom also got sprayed down. Finally satisfied, I allowed her in to the room, and the director looked more than a little annoyed with me. I removed Cunt's bonds and then tossed a spare sheet over the worn couch and Derek and I settled in to watch with Honey kneeling respectfully at our feet. For the first time since beginning her training, Cunt had full permission to speak in the first person. I had decided to have her go by the name Charity, as it seemed appropriate, and a bit ironic for what was going on. With the cameras rolling, the questions began.
“So, what's your name?” The director asked her from out of view.
“Charity.” She replied, only the slightest hint of awkwardness in her voice.
“Hi, Charity. Why are you here today?”
“To get fucked.” She squirmed a little and gave the camera a flirty look. “And knocked up.”
“Yeah? You like the idea of getting knocked up on camera?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Well, we've got twelve guys here for you today. How do you feel about not knowing which one got you pregnant?”
“That's the best part.” She replied in a very seductive manner. The director chuckled.
“Well, here come the guys now. Why don't you kneel right there in the middle of the floor.”
Cunt obeyed, knowing better than to disobey in front of me. She knelt with her knees wide for support as the first of the men approached her, cocks already out and in hand. She reached for the ones directly on either side of her and while stroking one, wrapped her glistening red lips around the other to take it deep. As her head bobbed on the huge cock, one of the men grabbed the top of her dress and pulled it down to just under her tits. Reaching around from behind her, he pinched and twisted her nipples as she began to go back and forth between the cocks on either side. After a few minutes of this, the men began to rotate in and out so that each got their turn in her mouth. The man who was now behind her pulled the dress up to her waist, exposing her garters and pussy. With one hand he tortured her already tender nipples while with the other he grabbed and rubbed roughly at her crotch. Like the well trained whore she was becoming, Cunt began to grind herself on his hand, moaning loudly around the cock in her mouth.
“Looks like you really like sucking cock, Charity.” The director chuckled from off screen.
She barely nodded in response, too lost in what she was doing. The man behind her was now shoving two fingers roughly in and out of her twat and her hips seemed to take on a life of their own. When the director gave the signal, the men backed off and one of them picked Cunt up and set her on all fours on the bed over one of the other guys. Before she knew what was going on, he had shoved his monster of a cock up in to her pussy and another cock was poised and ready at her mouth. Steadying herself with her hands, Cunt was able to both suck and ride cock at the same time. I smiled a little to myself, knowing that it was I who had trained her to do this.
The man who was fucking her grabbed her by the hips and slammed in to her as he began to cum inside her. Cunt pulled back from the cock in her mouth and screamed,
“Oh god, yes, I can feel you cumming inside of me!”
That's all she was able to get before the man who had been in her mouth grabbed her head and forced it back down. You could see her throat bulge as the eleven inch cock pushed its way in to her throat and from the look on the mans face one could tell that he was shooting his load down her throat. When both men pulled out, Cunt licked her lips hungrily and wiggled her hips in invitation to the others. It wasn't long before someone grabbed her from behind and impaled her on his throbbing twelve inch pole. I knew this man well, as he had often paid to use Cunt. I even had my suspicions that he was the father of the baby she was carrying. She cried out as he slammed in and out of her hole,
“God, yes, fuck me! Knock me up, baby!”
Again, she was quickly silenced by another cock in her mouth and she slurped on it like it was her last meal. The man in her cunt fucked her hard enough to slam her mouth down on the other cock over and over again, eventually bringing both of the men to simultaneous climax. When they pulled out, the camera man behind her zoomed in as the director said,
“Spread your hole open, let us see that cum in it.”
She did exactly as told and one of the men reached down to rub from her gaping hole to her clit. When the camera man zoomed back out, the man followed the lead of the others and pushed in to her hard. To the surprise of all, he lasted only a couple of minutes before adding his load to that already dripping down Cunt's thighs.
The next man who stepped up grabbed Cunt and flipped her over so that her head was hanging back over the edge of the bed before pushing in to her. In this position, her mouth was also quickly filled and she gagged as he throat was fucked just as hard as her pussy. The man fucking her mouth reached down and rubbed her clit and she quickly reached orgasm, her back arching as she did. She was forced to several more before receiving each of their loads in their respective holes. For almost two hours the men took turns fucking her until each had their turn in both holes. As Cunt lay back against the pillows, legs spread and fingers idly rubbing her swollen and glistening pussy, the director said,
“How do you feel, Charity?”
“Empty.” She replied with a giggle.
“Do you need another cock, slut?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, good. We have a little surprise for you.”
With that, the man who had gone first lay down on the bed, his eleven inch cock standing strait up. Right away she straddled him and he pulled her down so that she was laying on him. A second man with an equally large cock knelt behind her and pushed easily in to her ass as she groaned her fullness. Finally, a third and slightly smaller man positioned his cock in front of her mouth and she sucked hard on it as the two men in her other holes found their rhythm. My little slut was air tight and being pounded hard in all three of her holes, the look on her face one of pure bliss. The man in her baby hole orgasmed and just before the other men came, they pulled out and forced Cunt down on the bed on her back. The man who had just filled her pussy held her back, pulling her legs up to her shoulders and ordered her to spread herself open. The two other men who hand just been inside of her jacked off until they had shot their cum all over her gaping hole and then, yanking her dress all the way off, forced her to her knees on the floor. As a finale, the remaining men surrounded her and covered her face and tits with their contributions. When they were done, her mascara was running down her face and she smiled at the camera as she rubbed her breasts and licked the cum off them.
“Now how do you feel?” The director asked.
“Knocked up!” She said directly to the camera with a huge grin on her face.
I knew right then that she had really accepted her fate as my breeding slave. When we finally got Cunt home and cleaned up, it was almost nine. We put both of the girls to bed and then went to bed ourselves.
September 8, 2012
Kink and Sexuality in the News 2: My heros!
I've been so caught up in working on my next book this week that I almost forgot about my blog! Ack! However busy I may have been with my writing, I did come across two wonderful articles for my kink and sexuality series. I want to start by saying that I'm not just a supporter of the kink lifestyle. As long as it's between two (or more, if you like) consenting adults and you're not harming anyone, do what makes you happy. Love doesn't discriminate between genders, races or anything else for that matter.
The man I call my little brother is gay. His boyfriend is bi. They are adorable together. At my own wedding, they stood up with us in the wedding party, one on my side and one on my husband's. I couldn't imagine having had that day without them there, and I sincerely hope to one day be able to attend their wedding. Their actual, legal wedding. It breaks my heart to know that there are so many closed and small minded people out there who seek to prevent this sort of thing from happening for whatever their reasons may be.
What really sickens me is when someone who's own ancestors faced discrimination, persecution and oppression speaks out about why same-sex marriage is wrong. Seriously? I don't get how someone who's people were denied basic human rights for hundreds of years could seek to keep same-sex marriage from becoming legal. Sure, being enslaved and being denied legal marriage and the rights that come with it aren't quite the same, but oppression is oppression no matter how you look at it. Hell, these days just speaking out in support of same-sex marriage can bring on a major shit storm. Especially if you're already in the public eye. But you know what? I don't care. I support what I believe in, and I support those who are not afraid to show that they do too.
I'll admit, the headline of this first article is what got my attention, as any good headline should. You may have seen it around. "They Wont Magically Turn You Into A Lustful Cockmonster" would probably get anyone's attention. Now, I haven't read the original letter, and I have no desire to. The quotes from it in this letter are quite enough, thank you. I'm not a big sports fan, and I really don't even know who these two men are, but that doesn't matter. What does matter to me is that they were unafraid to speak out in support of same-sex marriage. Bravo, gentlemen. To you, Chris Kluwe, well done. Your response to that small minded asshat was well done, and entertaining to boot. Since you put it better than I could, I will let your words do the talking for me.
Dear Emmett C. Burns Jr.,
I find it inconceivable that you are an elected official of Maryland's state government. Your vitriolic hatred and bigotry make me ashamed and disgusted to think that you are in any way responsible for shaping policy at any level. The views you espouse neglect to consider several fundamental key points, which I will outline in great detail (you may want to hire an intern to help you with the longer words):
1. As I suspect you have not read the Constitution, I would like to remind you that the very first, the VERY FIRST Amendment in this founding document deals with the freedom of speech, particularly the abridgment of said freedom. By using your position as an elected official (when referring to your constituents so as to implicitly threaten the Ravens organization) to state that the Ravens should "inhibit such expressions from your employees," more specifically Brendon Ayanbadejo, not only are you clearly violating the First Amendment, you also come across as a narcissistic fromunda stain. What on earth would possess you to be so mind-boggingly stupid? It baffles me that a man such as yourself, a man who relies on that same First Amendment to pursue your own religious studies without fear of persecution from the state, could somehow justify stifling another person's right to speech. To call that hypocritical would be to do a disservice to the word. Mindfucking obscenely hypocritical starts to approach it a little bit.
2. "Many of your fans are opposed to such a view and feel it has no place in a sport that is strictly for pride, entertainment, and excitement." Holy fucking shitballs. Did you seriously just say that, as someone who's "deeply involved in government task forces on the legacy of slavery in Maryland"? Have you not heard of Kenny Washington? Jackie Robinson? As recently as 1962 the NFL still had segregation, which was only done away with by brave athletes and coaches daring to speak their mind and do the right thing, and you're going to say that political views have "no place in a sport"? I can't even begin to fathom the cognitive dissonance that must be coursing through your rapidly addled mind right now; the mental gymnastics your brain has to tortuously contort itself through to make such a preposterous statement are surely worthy of an Olympic gold medal (the Russian judge gives you a 10 for "beautiful oppressionism").
3. This is more a personal quibble of mine, but why do you hate freedom? Why do you hate the fact that other people want a chance to live their lives and be happy, even though they may believe in something different than you, or act different than you? How does gay marriage, in any way shape or form, affect your life? If gay marriage becomes legal, are you worried that all of a sudden you'll start thinking about penis? "Oh shit. Gay marriage just passed. Gotta get me some of that hot dong action!" Will all of your friends suddenly turn gay and refuse to come to your Sunday Ticket grill-outs? (Unlikely, since gay people enjoy watching football too.)
I can assure you that gay people getting married will have zero effect on your life. They won't come into your house and steal your children. They won't magically turn you into a lustful cockmonster. They won't even overthrow the government in an orgy of hedonistic debauchery because all of a sudden they have the same legal rights as the other 90 percent of our population—rights like Social Security benefits, child care tax credits, Family and Medical Leave to take care of loved ones, and COBRA healthcare for spouses and children. You know what having these rights will make gays? Full-fledged American citizens just like everyone else, with the freedom to pursue happiness and all that entails. Do the civil-rights struggles of the past 200 years mean absolutely nothing to you?
In closing, I would like to say that I hope this letter, in some small way, causes you to reflect upon the magnitude of the colossal foot in mouth clusterfuck you so brazenly unleashed on a man whose only crime was speaking out for something he believed in. Best of luck in the next election; I'm fairly certain you might need it.
Sincerely,
Chris Kluwe
P.S. I've also been vocal as hell about the issue of gay marriage so you can take your "I know of no other NFL player who has done what Mr. Ayanbadejo is doing" and shove it in your close-minded, totally lacking in empathy piehole and choke on it. Asshole.
Well played, sir, well played.
The next piece I've chosen to include here comes from a fellow blogger. This one really hit close to home for me, as some of the people nearest and dearest to me are gay or lesbian, including my little brother. I actually teared up a little the first time I read this. Several years ago, I received a letter similar to the one this man did, except that it was from my best friend of almost thirteen years. That letter gave my lifestyle choice (kink) and my religion (Pagan - I'll get in to that later) as the reasons she could no longer be my friend. Yeah. Ouch. Of course, I can look back now and realize that I'm honestly better off without her in my life, much as this man is without this person in his. At least I got an actual hand written letter - he only got a FB message. *insert eye roll here*
Regardless, this guy has the right idea. Straight, gay, bi, transgender, little pink alien with green and purple spots, who cares! You are who you are, and you love who you love, and the rest be damned! For me, I know I'd rather have the wonderful support of my awesome kink community family than one narrow minded friend.
Normally, with pieces like this, I avoid reading the comments section. Too often it is filled with flaming piles of hate fueled shit. For some reason I felt the need to look at the comments for this post, and I'm glad I did! Instead of the usual crap, the comments for this ranged from agreeing with the poster and showing their support to out-right thank yous from people in the LGBTQ community. That said, here's the post.
My younger brother is gay. Gay as laughter. Gay as the day is long. One of the finest moments in my life, and one of the greatest compliments anyone has ever paid me, was the day he felt safe to come out to me. He’s in his mid-30s now, but he’ll always be my little brother. And man, I love that kid. He’s brilliant, he’s funny, and he’s kind. And he just married a phenomenal man.
I was always predisposed to like his husband because, y’know, he’s my brother’s partner and therefore has automatic status in my heart. The wonderful bonus is that I really like him. He’s brilliant, he’s funny, and he’s kind. He’s a cool dude to hang out with. He also stood by my brother like a rock when my brother had a life-threatening cancer that cost him his left eye.
They married in May. It was a wonderful ceremony in which I was honored to stand by my brother, supporting him in his vows. My eyes teared up like they always do at weddings. I had the joy of watching two people commit to a lifetime together. It filled my heart.
Folks started posting photos from the wedding on Facebook, and I proudly reposted photos of the ceremony (with me looking awesome in my new suit, of course). Shortly after that, I received this message from a FB friend:
“Hey David, I am removing you from my friends list…sorry man, that latest post is way over the top! Homosexuals joining in “Holy” matrimony…I don’t think so??? The Holy Bible speaks out against homosexuality and speaks highly of Holy matrimony between a man and a woman. It’s nothing more than a slap in the face to those who choose God’s Word, for homosexuals to join in a Holy marriage. I’m only defriending you so I don’t have to look at your anti-God stuff anymore…nothing personal!”
Wow.
This came from a man I used to work with. A man I respect in his dedication to his family, and in his desire to live a moral and ethical life. A man with whom I have had some very interesting religious debates. He has become a Baptist preacher since we last spoke in person, and I suppose that makes this message unsurprising.
But, I was still surprised. I was taken aback. I needed a moment. I was hurt.
I was inclined to hurl some expletives in his direction.
But, only for a moment. He’s not really that important of a person in my life. I had actually at times grown rather tired of his Facebook postings…I don’t have a great need for fundamentalist dogma in my day. So, on some level, good riddance.
I sent him a letter at his church, expressing my disappointment in his withdrawal. I had a few friends read the letter before I sent it, to make sure that it didn’t contain too much bile. I’m not surprised that I haven’t heard back from him.
The situation got me thinking: What if this hadn’t been about my brother’s wedding, but about MY wedding? What if it hadn’t been from a distant friend, but from a beloved family member?
Ouch.
How many millions of gay kids (and adults) have had that exact thing happen to them? How many millions more will in the future?
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for that pain. I’m sorry for that rejection. I’m sorry for that isolation.
I’m straight. Straight as a yardstick. Straight as an arrow. I am in your corner. If I could take on that pain for you, I would.
I love you.
If you’re gay, I think that’s wonderful, and I’m truly happy for you. I wish you all the love and joy in the world.
If you’re straight, I think that’s wonderful, and I’m truly happy for you. I wish you all the love and joy in the world. And I charge you, I charge you to imagine the above scenario played out with YOU as the target of rejection. Imagine the people closest to you telling you, essentially, “You are fundamentally flawed and I want nothing to do with you.” Our LGBTQ brothers and sisters face this everyday. Please don’t forget that.
The poor, misguided soul is no longer in my life. That’s okay. My brother and his husband still are. I just hung out with my brother a few weeks ago, and it was a blast. He’s brilliant, he’s funny, and he’s kind. I couldn’t be prouder to call him my brother. I love him, and love wins, period.
Love wins, period. I couldn't have said it better myself.
Read the original with comments here: http://evolequals.com/2012/09/03/defr...
The man I call my little brother is gay. His boyfriend is bi. They are adorable together. At my own wedding, they stood up with us in the wedding party, one on my side and one on my husband's. I couldn't imagine having had that day without them there, and I sincerely hope to one day be able to attend their wedding. Their actual, legal wedding. It breaks my heart to know that there are so many closed and small minded people out there who seek to prevent this sort of thing from happening for whatever their reasons may be.
What really sickens me is when someone who's own ancestors faced discrimination, persecution and oppression speaks out about why same-sex marriage is wrong. Seriously? I don't get how someone who's people were denied basic human rights for hundreds of years could seek to keep same-sex marriage from becoming legal. Sure, being enslaved and being denied legal marriage and the rights that come with it aren't quite the same, but oppression is oppression no matter how you look at it. Hell, these days just speaking out in support of same-sex marriage can bring on a major shit storm. Especially if you're already in the public eye. But you know what? I don't care. I support what I believe in, and I support those who are not afraid to show that they do too.
I'll admit, the headline of this first article is what got my attention, as any good headline should. You may have seen it around. "They Wont Magically Turn You Into A Lustful Cockmonster" would probably get anyone's attention. Now, I haven't read the original letter, and I have no desire to. The quotes from it in this letter are quite enough, thank you. I'm not a big sports fan, and I really don't even know who these two men are, but that doesn't matter. What does matter to me is that they were unafraid to speak out in support of same-sex marriage. Bravo, gentlemen. To you, Chris Kluwe, well done. Your response to that small minded asshat was well done, and entertaining to boot. Since you put it better than I could, I will let your words do the talking for me.
Dear Emmett C. Burns Jr.,
I find it inconceivable that you are an elected official of Maryland's state government. Your vitriolic hatred and bigotry make me ashamed and disgusted to think that you are in any way responsible for shaping policy at any level. The views you espouse neglect to consider several fundamental key points, which I will outline in great detail (you may want to hire an intern to help you with the longer words):
1. As I suspect you have not read the Constitution, I would like to remind you that the very first, the VERY FIRST Amendment in this founding document deals with the freedom of speech, particularly the abridgment of said freedom. By using your position as an elected official (when referring to your constituents so as to implicitly threaten the Ravens organization) to state that the Ravens should "inhibit such expressions from your employees," more specifically Brendon Ayanbadejo, not only are you clearly violating the First Amendment, you also come across as a narcissistic fromunda stain. What on earth would possess you to be so mind-boggingly stupid? It baffles me that a man such as yourself, a man who relies on that same First Amendment to pursue your own religious studies without fear of persecution from the state, could somehow justify stifling another person's right to speech. To call that hypocritical would be to do a disservice to the word. Mindfucking obscenely hypocritical starts to approach it a little bit.
2. "Many of your fans are opposed to such a view and feel it has no place in a sport that is strictly for pride, entertainment, and excitement." Holy fucking shitballs. Did you seriously just say that, as someone who's "deeply involved in government task forces on the legacy of slavery in Maryland"? Have you not heard of Kenny Washington? Jackie Robinson? As recently as 1962 the NFL still had segregation, which was only done away with by brave athletes and coaches daring to speak their mind and do the right thing, and you're going to say that political views have "no place in a sport"? I can't even begin to fathom the cognitive dissonance that must be coursing through your rapidly addled mind right now; the mental gymnastics your brain has to tortuously contort itself through to make such a preposterous statement are surely worthy of an Olympic gold medal (the Russian judge gives you a 10 for "beautiful oppressionism").
3. This is more a personal quibble of mine, but why do you hate freedom? Why do you hate the fact that other people want a chance to live their lives and be happy, even though they may believe in something different than you, or act different than you? How does gay marriage, in any way shape or form, affect your life? If gay marriage becomes legal, are you worried that all of a sudden you'll start thinking about penis? "Oh shit. Gay marriage just passed. Gotta get me some of that hot dong action!" Will all of your friends suddenly turn gay and refuse to come to your Sunday Ticket grill-outs? (Unlikely, since gay people enjoy watching football too.)
I can assure you that gay people getting married will have zero effect on your life. They won't come into your house and steal your children. They won't magically turn you into a lustful cockmonster. They won't even overthrow the government in an orgy of hedonistic debauchery because all of a sudden they have the same legal rights as the other 90 percent of our population—rights like Social Security benefits, child care tax credits, Family and Medical Leave to take care of loved ones, and COBRA healthcare for spouses and children. You know what having these rights will make gays? Full-fledged American citizens just like everyone else, with the freedom to pursue happiness and all that entails. Do the civil-rights struggles of the past 200 years mean absolutely nothing to you?
In closing, I would like to say that I hope this letter, in some small way, causes you to reflect upon the magnitude of the colossal foot in mouth clusterfuck you so brazenly unleashed on a man whose only crime was speaking out for something he believed in. Best of luck in the next election; I'm fairly certain you might need it.
Sincerely,
Chris Kluwe
P.S. I've also been vocal as hell about the issue of gay marriage so you can take your "I know of no other NFL player who has done what Mr. Ayanbadejo is doing" and shove it in your close-minded, totally lacking in empathy piehole and choke on it. Asshole.
Well played, sir, well played.
The next piece I've chosen to include here comes from a fellow blogger. This one really hit close to home for me, as some of the people nearest and dearest to me are gay or lesbian, including my little brother. I actually teared up a little the first time I read this. Several years ago, I received a letter similar to the one this man did, except that it was from my best friend of almost thirteen years. That letter gave my lifestyle choice (kink) and my religion (Pagan - I'll get in to that later) as the reasons she could no longer be my friend. Yeah. Ouch. Of course, I can look back now and realize that I'm honestly better off without her in my life, much as this man is without this person in his. At least I got an actual hand written letter - he only got a FB message. *insert eye roll here*
Regardless, this guy has the right idea. Straight, gay, bi, transgender, little pink alien with green and purple spots, who cares! You are who you are, and you love who you love, and the rest be damned! For me, I know I'd rather have the wonderful support of my awesome kink community family than one narrow minded friend.
Normally, with pieces like this, I avoid reading the comments section. Too often it is filled with flaming piles of hate fueled shit. For some reason I felt the need to look at the comments for this post, and I'm glad I did! Instead of the usual crap, the comments for this ranged from agreeing with the poster and showing their support to out-right thank yous from people in the LGBTQ community. That said, here's the post.
My younger brother is gay. Gay as laughter. Gay as the day is long. One of the finest moments in my life, and one of the greatest compliments anyone has ever paid me, was the day he felt safe to come out to me. He’s in his mid-30s now, but he’ll always be my little brother. And man, I love that kid. He’s brilliant, he’s funny, and he’s kind. And he just married a phenomenal man.
I was always predisposed to like his husband because, y’know, he’s my brother’s partner and therefore has automatic status in my heart. The wonderful bonus is that I really like him. He’s brilliant, he’s funny, and he’s kind. He’s a cool dude to hang out with. He also stood by my brother like a rock when my brother had a life-threatening cancer that cost him his left eye.
They married in May. It was a wonderful ceremony in which I was honored to stand by my brother, supporting him in his vows. My eyes teared up like they always do at weddings. I had the joy of watching two people commit to a lifetime together. It filled my heart.
Folks started posting photos from the wedding on Facebook, and I proudly reposted photos of the ceremony (with me looking awesome in my new suit, of course). Shortly after that, I received this message from a FB friend:
“Hey David, I am removing you from my friends list…sorry man, that latest post is way over the top! Homosexuals joining in “Holy” matrimony…I don’t think so??? The Holy Bible speaks out against homosexuality and speaks highly of Holy matrimony between a man and a woman. It’s nothing more than a slap in the face to those who choose God’s Word, for homosexuals to join in a Holy marriage. I’m only defriending you so I don’t have to look at your anti-God stuff anymore…nothing personal!”
Wow.
This came from a man I used to work with. A man I respect in his dedication to his family, and in his desire to live a moral and ethical life. A man with whom I have had some very interesting religious debates. He has become a Baptist preacher since we last spoke in person, and I suppose that makes this message unsurprising.
But, I was still surprised. I was taken aback. I needed a moment. I was hurt.
I was inclined to hurl some expletives in his direction.
But, only for a moment. He’s not really that important of a person in my life. I had actually at times grown rather tired of his Facebook postings…I don’t have a great need for fundamentalist dogma in my day. So, on some level, good riddance.
I sent him a letter at his church, expressing my disappointment in his withdrawal. I had a few friends read the letter before I sent it, to make sure that it didn’t contain too much bile. I’m not surprised that I haven’t heard back from him.
The situation got me thinking: What if this hadn’t been about my brother’s wedding, but about MY wedding? What if it hadn’t been from a distant friend, but from a beloved family member?
Ouch.
How many millions of gay kids (and adults) have had that exact thing happen to them? How many millions more will in the future?
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for that pain. I’m sorry for that rejection. I’m sorry for that isolation.
I’m straight. Straight as a yardstick. Straight as an arrow. I am in your corner. If I could take on that pain for you, I would.
I love you.
If you’re gay, I think that’s wonderful, and I’m truly happy for you. I wish you all the love and joy in the world.
If you’re straight, I think that’s wonderful, and I’m truly happy for you. I wish you all the love and joy in the world. And I charge you, I charge you to imagine the above scenario played out with YOU as the target of rejection. Imagine the people closest to you telling you, essentially, “You are fundamentally flawed and I want nothing to do with you.” Our LGBTQ brothers and sisters face this everyday. Please don’t forget that.
The poor, misguided soul is no longer in my life. That’s okay. My brother and his husband still are. I just hung out with my brother a few weeks ago, and it was a blast. He’s brilliant, he’s funny, and he’s kind. I couldn’t be prouder to call him my brother. I love him, and love wins, period.
Love wins, period. I couldn't have said it better myself.
Read the original with comments here: http://evolequals.com/2012/09/03/defr...
