Taboo Pillow Talk…

Many people who are into fetishes often have no idea of the origins or even a reason as to why a fetish activity appeals to them. They spend a great deal of their lives believing that they are ‘weird’ or ‘unusual’ in some way because there is this one thing or series of things that strikes an erotic chord deep within them.

As you grow older you become acutely aware of your ‘non-vanilla’ desires. You are aware that if you were to reveal your secret desire to your partner or your friends that you would be shunned by them. For those who have had the courage to explore their secret desires – bravo!!! For those who have not yet done so – what are you waiting for? Your dark desires are not going to go away – they are an intrinsic part of your psyche and should be embraced so that you can achieve balance.

Sadly, even in today’s society, the term fetish usually invokes disgust or embarrassment among people. Given that there are hundreds if not thousands of websites and magazines that are dedicated to a particular fetish, you should ask yourself why then do people react this way? With such a large audience for these publications fetishes must be more common than many people think.

If these websites and magazines dedicated to fantasies and such didn’t have an audience they wouldn’t continue. The fact of the matter is that there is nothing wrong with having a particular fetish or fantasy. As long as your fetish doesn’t hurt anyone, or at least anyone that doesn’t want to be hurt, then there is nothing to be embarrassed about. When you embrace what you like and act on it in a healthy way, it can actually be liberating and make your sexual experiences and the experiences of your partner better.

Everyone likes sex a bit differently. These differences include positions, pillow talk, and foreplay, among others. Just like there are things that we all like a bit differently about the actual act of sex, there are differences between what turns us on. Some people like feet, others are particularly attracted to breasts, butts, or perhaps it’s more involved like an S&M or bondage type fetish. These are all very common fetishes and fantasies and as long as you only share them with others that feel the same, then there is no harm done.

A lot of people think having a fetish means they must have a deviant personality. They get embarrassed by it and keep it to themselves rather than sharing it with anyone, even their closet friends or partners. Obviously most don’t want to share their personal fantasies or fetishes with the bridge club, but people should feel comfortable sharing them with an intimate partner.

Exploring different things sexually can be a wonderful thing. Although some people may take their fantasies and fetishes too seriously, having fun with sex is something we should all experience. Everyone should be able to let go, loosen up and have fun with their partners. If this isn’t you then maybe you’re doing it wrong. Sex should be a freeing experience so embrace your fantasies and fetishes if for no other reason for the sake of becoming a better lover.


“A Submissive’s Anticipation”

His hands traced up my spine, sending tingles through my body. I could feel his fingertips lightly tickling the tiny hairs on my skin, hardly touching me at all and yet almost penetrating my flesh.

It seemed like every time the pads of his fingers reached my skin my thighs parted a little further. I could feel myself involuntarily pushing my backside into the air, thrusting my open pussy towards him as if for his inspection.

He touched me again and again I raised myself, yearning for his touch to tickle me there, where I ached for him.

My arms pulled against the ropes binding them to the corners of my bed. I sought for a glimpse of light underneath the blindfold I wore, but I could see none. I flexed my legs again, testing the ropes holding them. Everything was too tight to escape. He was too experienced at tying me this way, teasing me this way. He was a pro at this, and it was hopeless for me to think that my torture would end soon.

A moan escaped my lips as his fingers left my skin, and I focused on listening to his light footsteps as he paced around me, walking to the other side of the bed. I tried to anticipate what he would do next, but I could not. He always surprised me, every time. It was never the same, but always, as with the last time, it drove me wild.

I mentally followed the footsteps as the crossed the room, and I strained to hear the sound of him opening a drawer. My heart jumped, guessing at what he could be taking out of the dresser. We kept our toys in that drawer, our ropes and blindfolds and gags. Also, we kept toys that he could use to hurt me a little bit, softly, the way I liked. I heard a scraping as he sought what he was looking for. The drawer shut and he walked back towards me.

I tried to show him the anxiety I was feeling. I writhed about on the bed, messing the sheets, rubbing my face against the pillow in hopes of dislodging the blindfold a bit so that I could see what he held in his hand. He clucked softly with his tongue, indicating that I should stop, and I did, falling quietly back on the bed.

My chest heaved with my deep breaths as he stood there, next to me, unmoving. Rubbing my nipples against the bed slightly for some stimulation, I felt the rush of arousal flow towards my pussy again, and I again involuntarily lifted myself, offering my charms to him.

He chuckled, and moved again, walking around me.

I flexed my fingers, stretching them and relaxing them, then held tight to the ropes as I tried to remain calm. It was so easy, helpless like I was, to lose control over myself and become a purely sexual creature. But I tried to retain some dignity, to stay still while he decided what he was going to do.

A groan escaped my lips, a wild groan that seemed animalistic, lustful. My face turned bright red at the noise. I hadn’t expected it; it had come completely as a surprise, even to me. I could practically see him smiling at me, knowing the power he held over my body at this moment.

Something touched my skin, and I practically jumped off the bed, my back arching in surprise. He dragged the leather down my back in a smooth motion, tracing my spine with it as he had done with his fingers earlier. The flogger’s trail ended at my tailbone, where it began a trip back up my body to my neck.

I pushed my head further down into the bed, allowing more access to my neck. He tickled my neck with the short leather strands, causing me to smile, and then drew the instrument away.

I heard a hissing noise but didn’t have time to prepare my body for the force of the strike. The leather hit my skin with a crack, and my whole body jumped, seeming to leave the bed entirely. My body quivered with aftershock as I listened to him walking around me again. My mind raced as I tried to prepare the part of my body that he would strike next, different parts of my body tingling with anticipation.

Another hiss and the leather struck again, my thighs this time. I could feel the heat rising from my pussy turn up a notch, growing hotter, as I raised my bottom towards him again.

I needed him so badly. I whimpered, straining my body upwards towards him, yearning for any touch of his hand.

I heard the leather flogger hit the ground with a thud as he discarded it, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The soft thud of his footsteps surrounded me again, and I turned my face over to rest the other cheek on my pillow, facing him, but unable to see him.

I sighed as a soft finger reached out and touched the newly formed welt on my bottom. He stroked the bump, running his finger gently all along its length. He then moved to my thigh, tracing the welt there, as I pushed myself up towards him again.

His fingers left my skin. My body felt cold from the lack of his presence. I fell down against the mattress, deflated, my skin yearning for another touch.

My pussy was sopping, fluids dripping down my thighs and gathering at the blanket underneath me. With each movement I made, I could feel the pools of juices rubbing against my skin. The very touch of the wetness made me even hotter, and I could feel the skin peeling away from my body, my pussy opening and presenting itself to him. My own scent filled my nostrils.

A cold object nudged against my lower lips, sliding across the slick surface and slowly poking a rounded tip inside me. I raised my hips, eager for any penetration, moaning frantically as he pushed the phallus inside me, and then withdrew it.

I relaxed again, falling down, dropping my hips. He chuckled softly and touched the object to me again, this time sliding it in just about an inch and then withdrawing it. He slid the wet tip up my slit, slick noises filling my ears. The round tip rubbed against my swollen clit, and I cried out softly as he tickled me there, teasing my nub.

The object withdrew again. I lay, panting, in the pool of my own juices, my hands clenching and unclenching, desperate for more. I wanted him, it, anything, deep inside my body.

His finger touched the small of my back, right above my buttocks, and I whimpered as he slowly traced my spine again. I so badly wanted an orgasm.

“Please,” I whispered, pleading in my voice. “Please, now.”

His finger left my back and I heard him walk behind me. I lifted my hips again, knowing full well the compromising view I gave him from that position. I thrust my pussy towards him, begging him silently to touch me, feel me, fill me.

There was a rustling sound. He was removing his clothing. I nearly cried out in pleasure as I guessed what would happen next. The bed moved as his weight joined me, his arms on either side of my body, pinning me down even further. He climbed on top of me and I could feel the thick head of his cock positioned directly in front of my wet slit.I thrust back, trying to force it inside me. He pulled away, teasing me, and lightly patted my pussy with his thick staff. The hot piece of his flesh rubbed against my clit and I gyrated my hips frantically in the motion of sex, eager for his penetration.

Finally he pulled it away from me and thrust inside, pushing the entire length of himself into my body. I cried out as he filled me, the thick staff moving easily inside my sopping cunt, and began to pant as his pumping became rhythmic.

I pushed back with my hips, moving with his own, our bodies sweaty from our efforts. My clit felt as though it was ready to burst, and I felt all the nerves in my body tingle as the first wave of my orgasm hit.

Electric shocks seemed to jolt through my limbs, prickling sensations washing over my fingers and toes, and my body began to shake under his as I came.

His thrusts continued, his speed only gaining. My pussy felt more sensitive than before, noticing every tiny place he rubbed with his cock as he pushed it further in, digging inside me.

I could hear his breathing in my ear, the raspy sound growing quicker as his body tensed, and finally his thrusting stopped deep within me. I felt his arms stiffen next to me before I felt his cock pulsing inside my sensitive pussy, and then I felt the hot cum pumping out of him and into my own body.

My muscles clenched around him, milking him for all of his fluids. He groaned in my ear, his quivering ceased, and he collapsed on top of my back.

I lay panting, still squeezing around him as he began to pull away.

I whimpered, thrusting myself backwards towards him again, trying to keep his cock in my body.

“I need a cold shower,” he whispered, softly. “Then we can start again.”

“Okay,” I said, relaxing against the bed.

My body remained, quivering, in place, as I heard him leave the room. I closed my eyes under the blindfold and anticipated what he would do next.

A submissive’s soul

Feelings rise from within me, new, yet somehow familiar, frustration, sadness, depression, as parts of my ever-growing need to serve emerge and seem to overwhelm me. Each day it seems harder and harder to fight them back. i must or i might find myself willingly settling for what seems only available to me. It seems an almost endless wait for what is to be. A fear of what may never be lies beneath them all waiting to encircle me. It is hard to keep faith when the road before me seems so desolate and empty of anything remotely resembling all those dreams and desires, on this private journey i have begun. In my heart i know, beyond any doubt or question, that to just settle is a mortal sin against myself, i will not lend this fuel to the fires of failure to rise against any bond between two spirits. Instead, each day, my thoughts reflect my needs, my desires, my dreams and hopes from within the realm of this life and the spirit i have freed to discover them.

Sometimes i wonder what i might gain and what i will receive from such total and absolute submission to One. Words pale compared to who i am and what my submission is about. It is not so much a matter of `what i will get`, as it is a sense of what i know i need. It is quite simply who i truly am. i, in no, way wish to generalize my needs. They are as unique to me alone as the experiences of my life. In the end it would merely all lead back to the center of what completes me as a submissive.

Thoughts of Master surge through my mind. Not any Master. MY Master. Whose ideals, wants, desires, needs, and emotions, mate with mine in such perfect harmony that one would be hard pressed to detect when His footsteps end and mine begin. What would my submission to such a Master bring to my life? It is a world where each day, he shows me by actions and words, the fact that my faith, trust, and respect in Him, was not only inevitable, but also justly given, felt and cherished. Within His ownership of me, i would receive His strength, His honesty, and His firm, strict ruling, as well as, His compassion, His love, His affection. i would receive a Master who will be patient as i am learning, encouraging as i am stumbling, guiding as i follow the path of his pleasure. Within my submission to His ownership of me, what do i hope to gain? i hope to gain a Master with the true essence of one who is in control of Himself totally, thus able to control me with a fairness and compassion that is unique. Rare and comforting, allowing me to be as i am, yet growing better, to be who He wants me to be. His pleasure grows from teaching me, leading me, and guiding me to the fulfillment of knowledge of how to truly and totally serve Him. His needs, His wants, His pleasures would become my purpose in His life. i would gain a best friend, protector, a disciplinarian when needed, to set me back on track, should i stumble. i would gain a sense of purpose, a sense of reasoning to my inner feelings and desires. He would instill in me, a sense of pride, not merely self-pride, but rather, a pride joined together in who He is and who i am, as His property. i would gain a calming of the soul, and a removal of my inhibitions. i would gain a completion to who i am, still dynamic, changing, learning, growing and always moving forward. My submission is not a means to an end to revel in my own gains, but rather the essence of who i am and will be, given with great value to Him. My submission is not a gift to Him, but rather the piece that fits within His Dominance to complete each other. The one who will own me will receive my complete submission. My trust and trustworthiness, my respect and my pride in who He is and my belonging to Him. He would receive my hopes, my fears, my needs, and my fantasies for Him to use, to cast away, and to feed upon, for His enjoyment, His pleasure, His desires.

He will receive a servant content to live a daily existence of tending to His pleasure. A slut who would be open, vulnerable, wet, and ready at all times for His use. He would receive my humility, my self-pride, my love, devotion, loyalty, my flesh, my mind, and my soul. The essence of who i am, totally joined to His own. To Him, i would give of myself so completely that there would be no part of my flesh, my mind, and my soul that has not been touched and used by Him. He would receive all my secrets, all my mistakes, and all my achievements, all of myself and who i am. He would receive the first breath i breathe when waking and the last sigh i breathe as i fall asleep, everything in between, everything conscience, and everything unconscious. i would live safely, in a world of His pleasures, immersed in total contentment and love.

Switches are just greedy, they want it all

What is it that changes a person who was strictly a bottom to a switch? I started out as a bottom and when a person asked me if I would spank them, I agreed mainly out of curiosity. Now I am probably about half and half. I have been asked how I decide if I am going to spank or be spanked. There are a lot of things that will affect which side of the paddle I am on. There are people who I only am spanked by, there are those who I spank, and there are those who I can spank or be spanked by. Sometimes it is my mood. I may not feel like giving up control or I may have played with someone else already and am not physically able or ready to do so again. The same can be true for topping, if my hand or shoulder is sore from too much topping, chances are I will more likely to be interested in being spanked than spanking someone else. There are also certain words or things people can/do say that will instantly create the mood for me spanking someone or being spanked by them. I will also react to non verbal signals, a look, body posture clothing or even reputation. The psychological pull can be the strongest. The psychological significance of a situation can dictate interactions even more strongly than anything else. This is probably the biggest factor in why many male switches don’t let it be known that they were switches. For many people the thought that someone who is spanking them could behave been spanked by someone else can ruin the chances of them being able to spank some women. In many relationships one or the other member of the couple takes on the role of the dominant or spanker and the other takes on the role of the spankee or submissive. If the spankee knows that the top is being spanked or especially if the bottom sees their top being spanked, it can ruin the whole balance, due to the psychological effects and the loss of “power” that the top then holds. For me that hasn’t been a problem with my top. I actually switch with him sometimes and I have watched him being spanked as well. For me it doesn’t take away his power. It is more like a switch for me, I am either in top mode or bottom mode and whether someone has been spanked or not doesn’t affect my ability to enjoy a spanking from someone.

It is not just about smacking someones butt. For me it is sense of power that it gives me. The ability to just give someone a look and they know they are in trouble. It is being able to use different implements to send different messages and give different sensations. It is the trust placed in me by the person who is allowing me to spank them. Those are all things that have made topping interesting to me.

Now when I am the one being spanked it is the feeling of release, being able to trust another person and put myself in their hands. It is that stomach churning feeling of “being in trouble” and having to pay the stingy price. It is the sting of my bottom after the spanking and the warmth that stays from a well reddened bottom. It is the sense of relief that comes from having “endured” the spanking.

Spanking is an interesting thing. There are so many levels of spanking from light erotic play to a severe caning. There are people who spank for fun, as is the case for me. There are those who follow a lifestyle of domestic discipline where one member of the relationship dispenses discipline for acts that are deemed against the rules. All spanking that is part of a healthy interaction should be consensual and both parties should understand what it is that the other is looking for from the experience. Spanking can be a wonderful and enjoyable experience or it can be terrifying and a horrible experience. It is all in the hands of the participants.

As I have been told, switches are just greedy, they want it all. They have many more options and a wealth of different experiences that is both rewarding and enjoyable. I am glad that I was introduced to both sides of the paddle, for each has it’s own rewards and challenges.

In the middle of the town.

In the middle of the town.

In the mall we venture,
my mood and attitude are bad!
I harbour past resentments,
and past arguments we’ve had!

I do try to be submissive,
I always try my best to be.
But there are times I misbehave
and you aren’t pleased with me.

I disrespect and argue,
in the middle of the town.
I’m marched to a darkened corner,
where you pull my panties down…

My spanking echoes loudly,
I hope no one is around!
I pray no one will bear witness,
as my bottom’s spanked in town!




It was 7:02 p.m., a mere two minutes into ‘Message Night,’ when there was a tentative knock on the barracks room door of Susanna Trantor and Katherine Krypton, sixteen-year-old second-class cadets at the Hippolyta Coeducational Military Academy.

“State your business,” Katherine called out briskly, from her seat on the swivel chair to her desk. She was a pert-looking light brunette, possessing a well-shaped feminine body of medium height, wearing the Prussian blue academic uniform of the Academy.

The door opened slightly to reveal an anxious twelve-year-old boy, August Coruscant by name, who wore the masculine version of the same uniform. He was two inches shorter than Katherine, somewhat stocky in build, with reddish-brown, close-cropped hair and a round face speckled with freckles.

“New Cadet Coruscant here to deliver a message to Cadet Captain Trantor,” the boy stated, obviously quite nervous as his body was shaking.

Susanna rose to her feet from the twin bed she’d been sitting on, straightening out the covers as she did so. “Come in then, Mister Coruscant, let’s hear your message.” She was a statuesque young woman, four inches taller than her roommate, slim and athletic yet still possessing a sweetly-rounded figure, with black hair and crystal blue eyes; August would’ve found her intimidating even without the four chevrons and one stripe on her uniform sleeves, which indicated her rank.

The boy took three steps into the room, stood at attention and swallowed hard before speaking. “Ma’am, this is a message from…uhhhh…Cadet Sergeant Trantor, leader of the Second Squad…”

Susanna chuckled. “Do you mean that brat of a little sister of mine?” she demanded, referring to her fifteen-year-old sibling.