Need

I haven't posted in a few days, as I have been spending far too much time at work. That hasn't stopped me from fantasizing constantly; it *has* meant I haven't had any energy to write anything for my blog. On top of everything else, I have really been in heat lately. I *need* to submit, achingly need it, nothing else will do. My buddy A has been kind enough to let me run some errands for her, which has taken some of the edge off, but . . .

I can't get the beautiful boy I served in college out of my mind. Once he got used to the idea, he loved to humiliate me. Once, when he came back from running, he kicked off his sweaty shoes, and made me get down on my hands and knees, push my mouth inside them, and kiss the insoles. I spent many happy hours as his footstool, and I can still feel the weight of his feet on my back as I crouched on the floor. I've had few happier hours than those I spent gathering up his dirty laundry, cleaning and folding it, putting it away.

I guess what I'm saying is: I need to find myself a master or mistress, as usual, and it's just not that easy.

Riot grrrrrls

Uh, no, I didn't swipe these images from other web sites . . .

The first time I drank piss

One summer I worked at a hotel in New England. It was remote, on a beautiful and rocky stretch of coast. I worked there with a boy I had gone to high school with. He was a beautiful and intense Southern boy, smart and sharp and hard. God I was in love with him.

One warm sunny day, we were drunk and high, as usual, when he got up, picked up an empty Foster's can, turned away from me, and peed into it, laughing. He set it on the window sill near me, and may have made some jokey comment (it was long enough ago that I can't remember, and I don't want to clutter up this story with my imagination). A little while later he left the room for some reason, and without a second's hesitation, I picked up the can and drank, first in little sips, then in deeper gulps. The piss was still warm, salty, and his. When I was finished, I added some water to the can, so if he picked it up, he wouldn't wonder what had happened to his pee.

Golly

Cool punishments, #2

The arrival of the digital camera has made life much more interesting for dirty, dirty people like me who lack a darkroom. Now *anything* can be photographed, and indeed distributed, with ease. So my second cool punishment has to be being photographed doing something humiliating, preferably with the understanding that the Domme can use the photo in any way she sees fit.

This does not have to involve nudity, though being photographed naked in a public place is a great punishment. I was once filmed eating cat food out of a dish on a bathroom floor, wearing a leash and nothing else. Being photographed in bondage, sucking cock, licking ass, masturbating, in a dog cage, being peed on -- or anything with meaning only to the participants -- is a huge, exciting transfer of power, and a great toy for *consensual* blackmail games.

Thank you, Kate.

I don't really need to say much about the Underworld movies, aside from hubba-hubba. Kate Beckinsale is scorchingly hot in her tight latex suit, corset, and high boots. On behalf of pervs everywhere, I'd like to thank her for many happy hours of naughty daydreams.

A laundry fetish

As in, doing laundry for someone. I'm getting aroused just *thinking* about it -- really. What could be humbler than to pick up someone else's dirty clothes, drag them to a washing machine, and bring them back, clean and folded? I've been lucky enough to do this many times, and I've never tired of it. Weirdly, it extends beyond just doing laundry: When I was a teenager, I earned some extra cash working for a woman who lived next door. One of the chores I performed for her was to drop off and pick up her dry cleaning, and let me tell you: I would have done it for free.

Even weirder, I guess: Just being in a laundromat gets me hot. Every time I'm in one of the damn places, I fantasize at length about being a slave for a woman who owns a laundromat, and having to clean the machines, empty the lint traps, sweep, and, of course, do the laundry that people drop off. One of the places I occasionally do my laundry is owned (or at least staffed) by a couple of pretty El Salvadoran women, and I've had to restrain myself from creeping them out by offering to be their slave. They could relax while their fat, white esclavo does all the dirty work . . . I can't even *begin* to imagine what long-forgotten childhood trauma led me to this, but anyway, I'm here.

And, no, doing my own laundry is still a drag. If I could find a sub I liked, I'd let her do it for me. Time for a visit to Craigslist . . .

Pretty pictures

By Alex Szekeli, downloaded from femdomart.ru.

Scheherazade, part 1

A few years ago, I was dominated via email by a beautiful Englishwoman named Susan. She was a serious and demanding sadist, with a live-in slave who I really envied, I think. Her taste for physical punishment far exceeded mine, but she had a glorious gift of control and humiliation. My duty for her was to write stories, in particular her story, based on details she provided.

While there were aspects of this role that really turned me on, eventually it wore me out -- the rewards of email domination are limited, unlike the effort of writing. The following is an excerpt from that effort; bear in mind the Briticisms are all affected to make it seem more true to her, and it is written from her point of view. The process described is based on her detailed description. I will probably post more fragments eventually.

The other thing Mark was now in charge of was consuming my waste. I expected him to drink my pee from the very first day, but learning to eat my shit was going to be a process. I would begin by teaching him to clean me with his tongue after I shat. As I could feel the first stirrings of a huge bowel movement, this seemed like the right moment to begin. I called for Mark and instructed him to kneel before me.

“You are my toilet. You are the receptacle for my pee, my shit, and anything else that comes out of my body. If I become sick and vomit you will lick it up. You will never complain about this. If you express any feelings at all, they are to be the most fawning expressions of gratitude for being allowed to serve me this way. This is not because I expect you to enjoy this service. Quite the contrary. This is a revolting task, something that would sicken any normal human being, and perhaps the most genuinely degrading service one person can perform for another. I expect you to dread it and feel shame and self-loathing at the sort of creature you have become. While you will primarily serve me, it is not inconceivable, in fact highly likely, that you will one day serve one or another of my friends. This will only happen once I have fully broken you in, so that you do not embarrass me by providing less-than-perfect service. Clear?”

“Yes Susan.”

“To begin you will learn to clean my arse with your tongue. Ultimately, and soon, you will be eating my shit, but not now. Furthermore you are to prepare only relatively mild foods for me until further notice. These can include pasta, jacket potatoes, bread pudding and the like. Bear in mind, whatever I eat, you eat, once I have digested it. There will come a day when you are forced to eat the results of a huge curry dinner and it will be the most revolting task of your life. But not today. So. Here is what you will do right now.”

I walked into the toilet and Mark followed. “Lie down on your back, head next to the toilet. I will squat over your mouth and you will gently and lovingly kiss my anus for not less than a minute. When you have completed that process you will carefully lick the area around it, as well as the anus itself. You will be attempting to lubricate it so as little shit as possible sticks. When you are satisfied that it is well-lubricated, you will insert your tongue into it, further lubricating it, until you feel the tip of my stool arrive. Run your tongue around it thoroughly. When I am ready to relieve myself I will sit on the loo, and do so. You will remain on the floor at my feet. When I am finished I will again squat over your face and you will clean my bum until it is spotless. I will be checking your work with this white rag, which I shall keep in the toilet, and if I ever find even the smallest spot on it . . .” I let the sentence hang. “When my arse is clean I will leave and you will flush the toilet. You will not wash out your mouth, but you may remove any flecks of shit from your face. Is this all quite clear?”

“Yes Susan.”

“Fine.” I kicked off my knickers from under my skirt and squatted until I felt his lips against my anus. Softly, he began to kiss me, moving his mouth around the perimeter of my arsehole. After about a minute I could feel his tongue begin its work, moving around and into me. The pressure in my bowels was growing and I could feel the shit move deeper into my rectum. There was a hiss of gas as he pushed his tongue into my anus and he choked a little, but kept his tongue moving inside me. I could tell his tongue had discovered my shit when he started to cough and gag more forcefully. I had placed an alligator clamp on top of the toilet tank for just such an eventuality and I reached back for it, being careful not to remove my arse from his face.

“Having trouble concentrating?” I asked, and attached the clamp to his nipple. He shuddered and moaned, and moaned more as I twisted it. “If you want me to stop you will do your job.”

He moved his tongue back into my arse with new resolve and I let his tongue work on my shit for a good, long minute before I rose, sat on the loo, and relieved myself. When I was done I moved back over his face and let him get back to work. I could feel the resistance in him as his tongue touched my shit and I thought for a moment I would have to use the clamp again, but slowly and reluctantly he licked every inch of my arse, including deep into my anus. I relished the sensation of his tongue polishing the shit from my bottom. After three or four minutes of this, Mark, his voice muffled by my arse, said “You are clean now Susan.”

“Are you sure? You do not want to be wrong about this, I assure you.”

“Yes Susan.”

I stood up and reached behind me with the white cloth. I carefully dragged it up my arse, then examined it carefully. It was a bit damp from his tongue but clean. “Well done, Mark.” I threw the cloth down by his face. “Flush the toilet and clean this cloth.”

Boots

Yes, I love women in uniform, especially-but-not-limited-to military uniform: I love the confidence, the fitness, and most especially the boots. It would be hard for me to exaggerate how much I would love to be prostrate before any or all of these strong, beautiful women, my lips and tongue pressed against the shiny leather of their boots.

(I'm not sure, but I think that makes me a pervert.)

I love verbal abuse

There's really nothing like being insulted, profanely and at length. There's something liberating about giving someone permission to say the worst possible things to and about you, and a really delicious feeling of humiliation. It can be difficult, though, to find someone willing to be as abusive as I want -- most people worth being around are basically nice, and most nice people have a lifetime of conditioning regarding what is acceptable to say to another person. With time you can usually get even the shyest Domme or Dom to really get into it. That makes it more fun when you meet someone who's into it from the beginning:

There's a Dom man I've been emailing back-and-forth with, hopefully we'll meet up sometime soon. Here are a few samples of his style:

just so we're clear...if i end up using your lard ass you're not to tell a soul ...i'll make sure you know what a worthless fat disgusting pile of shit you are ..you'll suck my dick while i laugh at your jigglin blubber rolls and youll swallow my piss .. i'll fuck that HUGE sow ass of yours too..there's NSA for all of this ..i'll use you when and if i want.

and

be prepared..i'm gonna humiliate you from the moment we meet..you'll eat like a pig in front of me tho don't you worry ..wear a shirt that's too small if you have one..so every one can see what a fat pile of lard you are and laugh at you ..plan on a few hours and plenty of piss

and

you can count on me taking pics of you suckin my cock drinking my piss and eating off the floor ..prolly make a little video too ..and some pics of you just being the fat hog you are..JO trying to get around all that lard ..

God damn I hope we meet . . . I had to stop and rub myself just reading his emails . . . and I'll be sure to describe what happens here, when we do. If he does take the pictures, maybe I'll post a few . . . I just hope he's not just another Craigslist troll, too yellow to actually meet and live his fantasies . . .

Grace Park

As I've probably observed before, there are some women that just make me weak at the knees, in an oh-god-I-want-to-grovel-before-her sort of way. Grace Park, who plays Boomer on Battlestar Galactica, is one of those women. I have a weakness for Korean women in general, of course. They can have a remarkable combination of tomboyishness and beauty, and I like it. BG is a great series for lovers of strong women -- Starbuck, played by Katee Sackhoff, is kind of my feminine ideal; I have regular and shockingly dirty fantasies about serving as her human ashtray -- but this posting is about Grace Park.

My fantasies about her all center around her uniform, a remarkably sexy affair that I'd dearly love to be in charge of cleaning and polishing. Once again, I find myself having a sexual fantasy about a beautiful woman that does not involve having any sex, just menial labor. Unless boot licking qualifies as sex.

A travel fantasy

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Why I love the internet

I found the fabulous book cover below on a web site called Munseys, where some 20,000 old public-domain books, including this one, are available for free download in a variety of formats. I might even try reading it, though the covers of these old pulp titles are usually much more salacious than the contents.

Oral sex and why I love it

For someone as obviously bi as I am, it was pretty late in life that I sucked my first cock. It was, of course, thanks to the internet. It was attached to a sadistic Dom whose name I can't remember, but who blasted some weird opera/techno mashup the whole time he used and abused me. This encounter was a first in many respects, as it was also when I discovered that I don't really like pain.

Anyway, it was the first of many lovely cocks. There is something absolutely satisfying about dropping to my knees before a man with a thick cock and gobbling it down. It is certainly as much a submissive act as a sexual one. I love the feeling of whorishness, the taste, the smells, the feeling of excitement as the penis swells just before it explodes, and the salty reward for my hard work.

I arranged a bunch of one-time hook-ups after that, and while I enjoyed every one, once was usually enough. Then I met a man I'll call Andre, a married gentleman from Europe who was looking for a regular piece on the side, and I pretty much became his bitch. He was really extremely nice, but loved the feeling of having me at his disposal (I loved it too. Loved it.). Once a week or so he would come over, we would get naked, and I would lovingly suck and lick and kiss. He loved having his ass licked as well, and while I really prefer to do that only for women, I also loved being told to do something I didn't really enjoy -- I was his whore, after all; who was I to say no? Eventually he introduced me to fucking. My ass had been untouched until then. It felt odd at first (every time he pulled out, I thought I was taking a shit), and a bit painful, but I learned to love the sensation of being pinned there like a butterfly on his thick cock, as he rammed it into me, slapping my ass with abandon.

Andre has returned to his homeland now, and I am back to the occasional hook-up, but I still love it. I'd like to find a regular again, someone who will take my service for granted. Someone like this, in fact (thank you, Craigslist):

Do you love to suck cock? - 36

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Looking to unload during the work day and set up a regular thing. You a guy near Chinatown who has some sort of place? Like giving good service? Seeking submissive bottom who loves to blow. Me: 5'6", 150 pds, hairy, musc, masc guy not into chatting or endless emails. I show up, drop trou and you get busy. Need relief between 9-5. Can you help me with that? No freaks or crazies. Prefer my age or younger, HWP. Pic trade for serious guys.