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Originally published on Literotica.
“Perhaps one of my favorite paintings in the whole museum is this portrait of Madam de Pompadour by Francois Boucher. This was one of many paintings the artist completed of the Marquise. She was clearly an object of fascination for him beyond his duty as the royal portrait-maker, because none of the other royals were immortalized with the same quantity.” The tourists smiled politely but since this was the end of the tour, he knew their minds were on sitting and eating.
“It’s not just that she represents the height of elegance and taste at the time, she is also shown here as a potent intellect, an ambassador of the Enlightenment. Note that she looks as though we, the viewers, are interrupting her precious reading time.” The crowd murmured its appreciation.
Alex shook some hands and answered some additional questions before he strolled at his usual docent pace back to the office. His dark hair cut and combed just how his Mistress likes it, his dress shirt a powder blue that she had admired aloud in the past.
He wore his Mona Lisa smile, his sweet resting face, an emblem of his servitude. He could barely wait to get home, but he savored the anticipation.
On the metro, he thought of her. He had been uncertain about the cage, but as soon as she put it on him and hung the key around her luminous neck, something in him shifted. He could not form the feeling into words other than describe it physically: the cold steel containing his cock and balls. But somehow being contained had made everything else fluid. And tonight, she was going to take it off.
At his stop, he quickly climbed the stairs and practically sailed down the street to his apartment.
He turned his key in the lock and nudged the door open. The gloaming made the large, simple living room a pearly blue. A single cone of honeyed light from the reading lamp shone down on her red hair. She was coiled and reclined along the sofa, her feet tucked against each other. She looked up from her book. And smiled.
Alex put down his things and took off his clothes, his gaze and his Mistress’ gaze almost a solid thing in the space connecting them. He unbuttoned, unzipped, and shed all those pesky fabrics, just left them in a ring around his nakedness. He came to all fours and crawled to her. She set her book on the table and looked down at him.
“Hello, sweet boy.”
“I am so glad you are home.”
“I thought about nothing else but serving you today.”
She smiled again, and took off her glasses. “Very well. Pick me up, slave, and carry me into the bedroom.”
Alex stood, addressing his Mistress with his arms and lifting her off the sofa, collecting her. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed his cheek, a tiny gesture that sent little spasms to his restricted cock.
He lay her down carefully and she lifted her arms so he could raise her soft dress over her head. She turned away deliberately so that his eyes could find her, the fine lines at her eyes, the mauve of her nipples, the strong cage of her ribs. With a new wave of heat, he admired the twinkling gold chain around her neck, where a burnished Victorian key lay nestled between her ample breasts. A primal pulse visibly moved the cage fastened around his genitalia.
She pointed to the floor where he should kneel. She lifted her hips and he removed her panties with great care. Spreading her legs and then her rosy petals, he lapped at her pussy lightly and slowly. She sighed and softened further on the bed, closing her eyes. Alex became lost in his first task, with only his insistent, cramped prick reminding him he was still in a body.
A bell tolled in the distance as the light diminished and night seeped in, his Mistress cooing to him, playing with his hair, tugging the back of his head to crush his face against the sweet bloom of her pussy. He nibbled on her clit just as he was taught, and when he felt a climax approaching, he directed his tongue just below her little button and flicked her to her orgasm, lifting the pitch and volume of her cries. She wailed her highest note and then laughed with happy relief. Several times.
A tap on his shoulder and he withdrew, his cock now bulging aggressively at its confines.
“Sit up, sweetness.”
Alex brought himself upright so that he was still on his knees, his face flushed and blissed out.
His Mistress unhooked the chain from her smooth white neck, and leaned over to take his confined cock in one hand. She met his eyes and watched his face intently. With a hush, the key slid into the lock, turned. Gently, she released him and he exhaled. He looked down as his Mistress soothed the soft flesh that had been constrained by the chastity device. Immediately, his cock struck 12.
“You have responded so well to being caged, my sweet boy,”
“I am so glad you are pleased, Mistress.”
He stood and assumed the position with his hands on his head. She tugged gently on his testes, letting her fingertips roll the skin around his swollen orbs. He fell into his deep breathing, also part of his training to keep control of himself, to last as long as she needed him to.
His Mistress brushed her forehead along the stretch of skin below his navel before she placed a single kiss at the top of his shaft. The first contact of her lips shot arrows of sensation through his groin. A crystal of precum already perched on the little smile of his urethra, and she tapped it with a fingertip and rubbed it in a little circle on his head before blowing across it, cooling the very finest point of his body.
Then she enveloped his penis completely with her mouth, squeezing his sack with one hand. She pumped down and back slowly three times with the full suction of her mouth before letting him go. His cock almost cried at the sudden lack of her lips.
Again she pointed and brought him on all fours, this time on the bed with his ass in the air. She placed a hand on each of his cheeks and stroked him, gathering his flesh so she could spread him. “Face down, slave,” she commanded and he brought his forehead down on the bedspread. The hot lash of her tongue drawing wet lines along his taint was almost too much for the recently liberated animal of his cock, but he used his breathing as his Mistress groaned and nipped at his undercarriage.
“So sweet and soft,” she crooned, rubbing her cheeks all over his cheeks as she fondled his dangling balls. He could not help but whimper with pleasure.
“Shh, there there,” she soothed him right before she rimmed him, dipping her tongue into his ring with hummingbird lightness. An agonizing wail escaped him. She withdrew, leaving him gasping and bent over on the bed, his elbows quaking at his sides.
“You must remain calm, slave. Focus.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he croaked. His nuts felt as though they were pounding against each other, matching the frenetic rhythm of his heart. She smiled and scratched down his back, along his ribs, into the fold between his belly and thigh, taking hold of him at his root and using it to shake him gently. Then she released him and the sudden absence of her touch enraged his demanding penis.
A long beat went by.
He was floating, a vessel cut loose from its moorings without the firm tether of his Mistress. He remained still, his only power to bring her back, his obedience. The room was silent except for the night sounds of the city, the streetlights gaining intensity. His ears strained for a sound and when he heard her in the background, his tender hole, his cock, his stomach and heart all seemed to hear her too.
The room darkened. Then the gentle glow of a few candles appeared in the periphery. Her fingers on the back of his thighs let him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sensed her kneeling behind him, felt the cool shape of her phallus against his inner thigh. Her mouth lavished saliva on his waiting orifice, her hands slick with lube, and he tucked slightly, bracing himself when he realized how hungry she was. Knees on the inside of his knees brought his already vulnerable stance even wider and his heart resumed its thrumming. His cock, once again, insisting on her touch.
“Reach back, slave, and open yourself for me to enter you.” Her voice sounded so warm, assuring him that him she was going to love him from the inside, and a little sob popped out of him. His shoulders pushed into the bed as his hands found his buttocks and pulled them open for his Mistress to tap at his hole. “Such a good boy,” she whispered. She rocked away, then came in close, tapping so gently at his opening that his cock mercilessly wagged in the air. Alex drooled onto the bed.
And then she tapped and stayed, pinning him at one, tiny point of contact. He waited like he was on tiptoe on a tight wire over a canyon. He felt her breasts on his back, her arm sweeping under him, and then suddenly she was inside of him and he let out a true groan.
“Easy, darling boy. Easy. I’m going to take you like this for a long time.” And she started to sway her hips in and out of him, painstakingly, letting her full weight come onto him. She nestled in and ground her pelvis into his, clawing at his back and wrapping an occasional fist around his taut cock.
Alex’s Mistress slithered along her slave’s back, never letting up with her rhythm, as though she wanted to crawl right inside his ass. His face fell slack as she robbed his brain of words. Finally, she straightened up, grabbed his hips and started to properly, forcefully fuck him.
“God, I love working you over, slut, I just love how you open up and take it.”
“Please take me, Mistress, please let me come.”
“No, sweetheart”—she licked her teeth with deep satisfaction at denying him—”you may not come, because I’m still going to use your cock for two or three more orgasms. This is why we put you in the cage, darling, so you learn to save all that boy juice.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he managed to say before words left him again.
She took his rapt, willing hole as the candles burned down to half-mast, leaking wax out into their bowls. Alex was now in some other realm, his asshole stretched and hot and the bed below his Mistress’s cunt damp from the steady dripping of her desire. Neither spoke, just flowed together until Alex’s moans became howls and his Mistress clamped down on his hipbones to deliver her cock deeper into him. A raking, graveling shriek came out of him and a spurt of liquid exited his Mistress as he progasmed and she clenched with sympathetic climax.
She pushed him flat on the bed, giving him permission to relax and quickly detach her harness. He heaved big breaths and his cock burned underneath him. His parameter crackled as he sensed her vacating his space. But a moment later she was at his face, lifting his chin and pressing a cold glass of water to his lips. Their eyes met in the dark and she brushed tears off his thick brown lashes. When he finished drinking, she met his lips in a languid kiss, hushing him, stroking his body, calming him for the next round.
She came to the top of their big beautiful bed, shoved some pillows aside and sprawled in the candlelight. His eyes, first and foremost, loved her, sought her details, her changes, her curiosities. She lifted her copper hair away from her neck and rolled away while his eyes drenched themselves in her classical curves, her gardenia white skin, ample wide hips. In her he saw a living embodiment of so many of the paintings he loved.
He knew it was his job to cup the back of her body, to freely explore her, to suck and study every part of her. Lazing over her flesh with his lips and hands, stroking her curves with the planes of his face in his worship, he thought again of Boucher relishing in his service to his Mistress with sensual strokes of the brush. Alex was free to move her and arrange her limbs however he needed to seek all her delicious secrets, lifting her ankle and consuming her toes.
Then she reached back and grabbed his sprung cock and casually stated, “Enter me.”
The moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived. She had built this moment with careful grooming, with every touch during his chastity achieving an oceanic splendor. Her generous ass presented itself to Alex and he saw the lilting folds of her again, swollen with desire for him. She flexed her spine like a cat and her hand found his shaft so she could guide it to her entrance.
“Make love to me, slave,” she said as he slipped inside her, completing the symmetry of the act, their parts liquefying, their bodies blending and recomposing into one like pigment and oil becoming a saturated hue. He flowed right into her like a tributary and their mutual moans hit the same note before harmonizing, cresting waves of sound, each stroke making a new song.
He remained there on the very edge, waves of disbelief crashed over him that he could last this long after a week of restriction.
Their joy leveled right out of their bodies, as pure a vibration as music or color. When Alex realized he was about to let go, his attention snapped back to his Mistress, who was undulating along the length of his desperate cock. He bore down on his own release and she must have known because she pulled him back in and letting out an animal roar, inviting him to emancipate his cum deep into her depths.
His Mistress drew back with her upper body and met his eyes, her jaw dropped but her face soft with a knowing, loving glance over her shoulder. His cock needed no further permission – his cockhead went molten, bursting inside her in a nebula so bright it seemed to light her up from the inside, her ribcage suddenly billowing, her fingers splayed. She swallowed him from the inside. They popped like a bubble together and dropped to the bed.
The candles sputtered in their trays and the indigo of the sky suggested dawn was on its way. Alex and his Mistress lay meshed together, still, restored by silence. He felt her breathing slowing and it slowed his. He sat up for a moment. He embraced her again. The band of light spanned from dark red to yellow to light blue outside as they easily slipped into sleep, their exhaustion so pure.
Just hearing the sound of that alarm jolts me like I touched a car battery. But in a good way. It’s time for my kegels.
My Mistress is conditioning my pussy. In fact, she just refers to me as “pussy,” a name I would have cut a bitch for in the past, but when she says it, I squirm and twitch in my drawers.
I get on the bed naked and present myself. I have no idea what she’s conditioning me for, but last time she started prepping me for something, it involved a sling and a total stranger with a very big cock.
Suddenly, she’s behind me. I always smell her first and it makes me a little high.
“Kagel time, pussy.” She says and lubes me up. “I’m going to push you a little more tonight.”
Good to know.
Down there, her hands are already passing over my lips, greasing my taint, and ah, now the dildo goes in. Ms.Devina doesn’t hesitate, just all the way up in there.
“Squeeze,” she tells me. I clamp down hard on the dildo.
“Release.” I let go. She draws it out, half way:
“Squeeze.” I try to tighten up again but I can barely reach the thing, like she’s taking it away.
“Harder, pussy, I want you to squeeze your hole shut, push it out.”
I grunt and she smacks my ass.
“You are not concentrating. Release. Let’s try again.”
I let go of the muscles but they don’t want to open up all the way. They like that thing.
“Come one now, let go all the way, I’m waiting.”
How can she tell? I force the walls to open and I can almost hear her smile.
“That’s good, baby. Now bring your legs wider.” I obey knowing it will only make it more difficult to give her what she wants.
I love it though. I love that she knows my anatomy, and wants to train me, mold me. No boyfriend ever got to know my vj like this.
She starts again, this time twisting the dildo into me. “Squeeze it, pussy.” I bear down, trying to keep my big ass open, finding only those inner walls. The dildo slips.
“Yeah, honey. Now relax.” It’s even harder to do as she says this time. She pulls it out and I hear the bullet vibe go on. The low setting presses against my rim. Oh fuck.
Now she’s got the dildo and the vibe going and she’s saying, “Again, tighter pussy, make that thing grab on so hard,” she lets go of the dildo long enough to smack my cheek and rake her nails up the inside of my thigh.
“Tighter, slut!” I grit my teeth. “Now open,” and again, she pulls the cock out. Meanwhile the dildo is shooting lightning bolts up my ass. This time when I release, a little juice trickles out.
I feel her fingertip on my lips. Then one finger, probably her pinkie inside.
“Grip it. Go on. I want to feel that pussy get so tight, if I put a lemon up there, you gonna cum lemonade.”
I try not to laugh, but she always does this, throws in a joke to make me lose my concentration. I clamp down again as hard as I can.
The dildo revs up and enters my hole, and I cry through clenched teeth.
“Yes, baby! Open up!” and her finger and the dildo are alternating in my upstairs and downstairs. This orgasm is coming like one of those high speed trains.
“Cum for me, baby,” she purrs and I don’t wait, I burst on the bed. Her hand catches all my juices and rubs the mess all over my ass. A hoarse wail comes out of me.
Whatever she is prepping me for, I’m pretty sure I’m ready.
Devina and pussy appear in the upcoming Cuckold Collection: She’s Yours Tonight
I’m thrilled to be in league with these tremendous writers and SinCyr Publishing house, a press dedicated to Female Dominance as a healing agent. You can preorder your copy of the book here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0753KWZTV
A brief summation of my contribution, Cutting It:
Moore’s joyless graduation into adulthood is another disappointment until he meets Rosie: a shape shifter, older, and skilled in the art of pain and control. This deeply confused young man starts to come into focus as he realized he can still get the release he needs without self-harming.
You know you want Moore. Buy it now, that’s an order, not a request.
A little background: met this guy yesterday morning through my now-and-forever defunct OKCupid account. We had a brief back and forth before we made plans for coffee in which he asked me if I was open to playing that night. I definitively said no, that I don’t play on the first date. After the date, he said he had to go do something, help his roommate but asked if I wanted to keep hanging out. I said, sure since at the time, he seemed cool. He took off to do his thing with the promise that it would only take 15 minutes, but then texted again and said, was I open to casual play?
Again I said no, but that if he was interested in getting to know me, I was willing to spend more time with him. He then said, sorry, this is going to take longer than I realized, was I open for dinner the next night? I obviously extended too much credit because this is what transpired afterward. Aside from minor edits in the text conversation to improve the flow, I didn’t edit this text conversation at all. Clearly, he didn’t deserve correction.
Betina Cipher: Can you talk?
vanilladude: In a little while. Maybe 30 min? What’s up.
Betina Cipher: I just thought it would be easier to communicate via voice.
vanilladude: Sure. Text is good too…text with me 🙂
Betina Cipher: It’s really difficult to articulate texting, just thought I could spell some things out. Just wanted to talk about kink, fetish, etc.
vanilladude: Please do. I am very comfortable texting until, if you don’t mind.
Which specific kinks and fetishes? You have some?
Betina Cipher: Do you have any experience with kink? First hand?
vanilladude: ds and fetishes? My housemate’s company is around a bit longer, so I can text for a while. A small bit with S&M, and women having masters. I have spoken to subs about it, but haven’t engaged in it myself. What are your kinks? I want some first-hand experiences though.
Betina Cipher: Okay. So your experience with it is mostly on the margins.
vanilladude: Yes…that okay?
Betina Cipher: I could kind of tell. When someone has firsthand experience with it, they communicate in a certain way.
vanilladude: How so? What are your kinks and fetishes? Have you ever had your photos taken?
Betina Cipher: I’m a Domme. But I should qualify that and distinguish it from Dominatrix. I’m not much of a sadist, but I do like to be in control. I like to initiate, give directions, experiment with sensation.
vanilladude: What about straight sex? Do you do that, or is it only a dom sex life for you? Have you been with dark men? Do you have fetishes?
Betina Cipher: Oh yes.
vanilladude: I would like to photograph you. Oh yes to what?
Betina Cipher: Ok, on that first point. Vanilla sex is pretty disappointing to me. I think it becomes rote, it’s over too fast, and it’s all about coming. Yes, I’ve been with dark men, yes I have fetishes.
vanilladude: Tell me your fetishes please
Betina Cipher: If all this is not you cup of tea, I’m totally fine setting the conversation down. I don’t take it personally. Are we ok so far?
vanilladude: I like this. I want more. Carry on.
Betina Cipher: I like the idea of being photographed.
vanilladude: What are your fetishes? I do excellent close-up work with photos.
Betina Cipher: OK. I’m into toys, bondage, assplay (giving), temperature play,
vanilladude: Giving ass play such as?
Betina Cipher: I’m into pegging.
vanilladude: You like licking ass? Pegging isn’t for me. Just being up front.
Betina Cipher: ok.
vanilladude: Do you like licking ass too?
Betina Cipher: I’m into all things ass. It’s incredibly erotic to me.
vanilladude: You like having your ass licked?
Betina Cipher: hell yeah, don’t you?
vanilladude: I can relate to that. Have you done oral with protection? Until everyone is tested? I like to hold off on unprotected oral and kissing until all testing is done. Would that be a deal-breaker for you? Yes, I like it too
Betina Cipher: Can I ask what your specific fear is around transmission? Like I’ve never had anyone ask me about cold sores or irregular paps before.
vanilladude: Causes abnormal paps contributes to oral cancers and/or warts. I play extra safe d/t transmission possibilities of sylhillis (highly contagious in 2 stages), via kissing, and hpv…the strain which cold sores come from HSV-1, which can actually be transferred to genitals. Typical genital herpes is HSV-2, but 1 can occur in both locations.
Betina Cipher: So wait, you’re saying you don’t tongue kiss someone until both of you get tested?
vanilladude: Did you like the pic? I prefer to wait with the kissing, but if it’s a deal breaker, I understand. I do have something I like about sex without kissing anyway, but I can’t explain it
Betina Cipher: It’s hard for the writer in me not to read into that.
vanilladude: Sorry. I am unable to articulate why is what I mean. Did you like the photo I sent? I would like to feel your body with my hands. I wanted our legs touching under the table. It had been in my mind when we were outside.
Betina Cipher: I am sure that you are the kind of man that easily elicits compliments from pictures like that. But I’m a Domme, I don’t automatically feed men’s egos. I think the fear of swapping spit is really a fear of connecting, it’s a little paranoid. I’m going to pass. I wish you luck finding what you are looking for. Have a good night.
vanilladude: Would you give me a chance to understand? I wanted to know what you liked so I could offer more photos and other items/actions. As I mentioned, if something is a deal breaker, I will adjust. I would gladly swap spit with you. I was ready to before you left but I wasn’t sure how you felt about it, I was stuck in your creamy legs and thighs for parts of the convo and couldn’t help myself. Not looking for compliments. I want some serious interaction with you.
Betina Cipher: Ok. let me put it this way in a nutshell: when I am in charge, a session lasts for hours. I study you, test your responsiveness. I push you to your edge and then I decide when to release you.
vanilladude: And you can do that without pegging?
Betina Cipher: yes. but it’s the easiest way to make a man have a progasm.
vanilladude: And though kissing is fine, no oral until testing is fine as well? Just clarifying because I want tie experience you
vanilladude: And I want my hands in your body to feel your smooth skin. I want to see and taste your breasts.
Betina Cipher: You get to work for all that.
vanilladude: How is that a FWB situation? You being dom is one thing, but can we start casual for one meeting?
Betina Cipher: If you are asking me if we can have vanilla sex first the answer is no. In the same way that you have limits about STDs, I have no interest in making out, no oral, missionary and it’s over in 3 minutes. Like I said, vanilla sex is not satisfying to me. Attraction is one of many cogs that need to mesh. I think you are very attractive, but it seems like we aren’t lining up.
vanilladude: I am not talking 3 minutes of vanilla sex. I am talking patience and time in first just touching each other naked and seeing how each of us play. other reacts. Spending time on nipple play, ass play, fetish time…sex would be slow and deliberate, mixed with the additional various. I think we would line up in person. I do. I am not just saying this, I assure you.
Betina Cipher: Tell me why you think so?
vanilladude: Why do I think so? I felt something when I hugged you, and when we spoke and when we looked at each other that seemed carnal to me. As an example of what I meant, I like having my cock buried all the way in a woman and just holding it there, while slowly touching, pinching, licking other parts of her.
Betina Cipher: Are you willing to spend some more time for me to feel comfortable around you?
vanilladude: I don’t understand your angle. I am extremely attracted to you. But are you looking to “date?” What you want seems different for a well-matched arrangement. I am fine being patient. Are you willing to show me how you could tease me? (Not asking for sex). Are you free at all during the day tomorrow?
Betina Cipher: See here’s the problem with text.
vanilladude: I apologize, I have limited options. Texting with you turns me on. I like reading the words and descriptions with respect to sex and fet terms. I don’t understand what you are open to before sex? Would you let me lick your ass?
Betina Cipher: Let me put it another way: I’ve had some toxic men in my life, men who have taken my power away from me psychologically and sexually. My comfort zone is when I am in control. I don’t understand that last question. I don’t do casual sex, I don’t do one-offs.
vanilladude: Can you be in control while letting me lick your ass? Neither do I. I don’t do either.
Betina Cipher: I would INSTRUCT you to lick my ass.
vanilladude: Then that’s what I want. Are you free during the day tomorrow? At all?
Betina Cipher: What I don’t think men realize is the immense risk women take on when they consent to sex with someone they just met. No, not free tomorrow.
You outweigh me by what, 50 lbs at least? And I just met you. Today.
vanilladude: I understand. I worked with various situations involving victims when I worked in medicine.
Betina Cipher: I’m not a rape victim in the conventional sense. But yes, I’ve got triggers and trust issues. I am not going to have all the info I need in one meeting.
vanilladude: I am also required to be an upstanding citizen with a squeaky clean background to maintain clearance for any government work. I have annual background checks run in me, and fingerprinting. Okay
Betina Cipher: Well, so do lots of people. But I appreciate that, and I have to have similar. Tues afternoon or eve is possible.
vanilladude: Let’s do Tuesday eve? You want photos done? May I send you a photo of my cock, please?
Betina Cipher: Let me explain again: I’m not bringing you into a private space until I know you better. No. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to look at it. You are not used to being denied. I can tell. Handsome men are the worst.
vanilladude: I am sorry for the experiences you have had, but I need to be able to progress with my own timeline. I also don’t want to risk any “triggers” being set off.
I have law enforcement in my family, docs and lawyers. I am a safe guy, and I don’t have to put in unreasonable effort with others.
It’s not about being handsome. I am willing to work. But I also recognize the difference between a solid effort vs. working around someone’s personal stuff.
My attraction to you is unusually strong. I left with an erection, and precum because of how turned on I was, especially when you would shift and I would catch a glimpse of your sexy thighs. I know what I want, and that I am safe, but I have also been waiting a while to play and I need to move on. If you want to join me, let me know because you make me hard as a rock. Okay. Let me know if you decide you want photos or to play. If not, no offense.
Betina Cipher: Wow, and this seems like a reasonable expectation to you? You meet a woman once and because you got boner it’s now or never? Your idea of a “solid effort” is laughable, and the “please let me show you my dick”, what are you, 20?
vanilladude: That’s not what I wrote.
Betina Cipher: Sure whatever.
Betina Cipher: I suggest you educate yourself regarding sexual assault and how it relates to dating. Here are some stats for you:
The fact that you asked me more than once if I was open to playing, ignoring my direct answers, is a red flag. The paranoia around germs and the disregard for my comfort level, red flag. Your dismissal of me based on “not wanting to set off any triggers” reveals you to be ignorant, selfish and unworthy. Something to consider on your next date.
(block user) (block this caller?) (do not disturb)
Dear Ms. (Cipher),
We found your resume on Indeed dot com and we think you’d be a great fit for the _______ position. As a content writer, you’d be required to write, edit, strategize, know HTML, video editing, be comfortable managing several projects at a time with different clients, all of whom have unreasonable demands, work 40+ hours a week starting at $15-18. This a fantastic opportunity for someone who is looking to build their career, work in a fast-paced environment, loves business casual, and drinks like a fish at corporate parties.
Dear Ms. Cipher,
Welcome to Bluehost! We know you just spent all your hard earned blogger cash on upgrading to self-hosted thinking that you’d be able to sell your smut more effectively, and we just want you to know that for an additional $59 a month, you can upgrade to Premium and get that elusive amazon plugin that will make all your financial dreams come true.
The Sharks at Bluehost
Dear Ms. (Cipher),
After carefully examining the accident you were in on April 28, we’ve made the determination that even though our driver rear ended you, you were at fault. We will therefore not be covering the cost to have your bumper fixed. We apologize for any inconvenience and you owe Hertz rentals $29/day for the next three days.
Attention Ms. (Cipher)
Your registration renewal is due on July 17, 2017 for $124. The DMV doesn’t accept cash and a $5 dollar transaction fee is charged for credit and debit.
Thank you for your business,
Hey you. It’s your project. Remember me? That boiler about the woman who turns her dead mama’s dilapidated mansion into a Cub Bordello? So there is a living room of characters just milling around waiting for you to tell them how you want them to fuck each other. Just sayin’. You know where to find us. On your hard drive.
P.S. You are backing me up, right?
Dear Ms. Cipher,
Thank you for applying to the____ position. We regret to inform you that we’ve selected a candidate, and–
Good Evening, Ms. Cipher.
I really enjoyed reading your profile. Your imagination is scorching hot, reading your stories makes me feel so dirty. I especially loved Boyslut for the Birthday Girl, such a lucky boy to get used by not one but two smart, sexy Mistresses.
I hope this message finds you well, and if there is ever anything I can do to please you, I’d be honored.
I had a dream about a guy I conversed with very briefly on OKC and never met in real life. He was a professional, a father, handsome, submissive. He went cold a few weeks ago and while I wondered (as I always do) if he met someone or if he just got scared, I didn’t think about him much until this morning.
In the dream, we were new, but somehow traveling together in an indistinct American city. It was very chaotic, with lots of construction going on. We passed by super-modern luxury homes being built. It felt like we were excited about each other, like we were both seeing the potential.
And then the scenery shifted: we were in a blank room with a bed, a standard hotel room with a large window next to him. We were talking and he asked about plans, about when he could come to my city and stay a few days, meet my people. “Is it too soon to be asking?” he wanted to know. “We can go as slowly as you need to.” The indication was clear: he was showing me he was in.
And I had a moment of pure panic. Here was the thing I had been searching for: a beautiful, smart, awake, strong-but-submissive man. He was putting himself on the table for me and I was suddenly nauseated.
“I need you to strip,” I answered, and without question, he disrobed and lay face down next to me. “I need to be inside you.” I had to fuck him because I was so scared of getting fucked. I wanted this devotion and obedience too badly. I had already overextended in my desire.
To regain control, I had to fill him up. He took me inside him and whispered that he was mine, I owned him.
I woke up feeling like I was the one who got fucked. By my own imagination.
“Good afternoon, dudes. You might be wondering why you are here.” Ms. Mona flexed her cane as she paced back and forth in front of the whiteboard.
“You see, you boys have behaved very badly without really realizing it and after some coaxing and a few beatings, the clever nerds at Match.com, OK Cupid, and Plenty of Fish all teamed up to share data, crunch some numbers, and develop an app. Guess what it does? Anyone?”
The men tied to uncomfortable antique wooden elementary school desks squirmed and bugged their eyes at one another.
Mona smiled. “You are the group we singled out for online dating sensitivity training. You didn’t quite cross the line into the group we call Deep Servitude, who are now in the dungeon having their gentials surgically removed.”
A couple of the men strained against the robust leather straps pinning their naked asses to the tiny desks. Mona smacked the cane down on the closest surface, causing everyone to jump.
“Yes, we found you. You get blocked so regularly that we have to kick you off the sites. But you just fire up another profile with a different email the next day. You are the dudes we realized could be molded into dateable men. So first, we will go over what you do wrong, and talk about strategies you might want to employ unless you would like your joints to shrivel up and rot off from too much porn.
“You single dudes start conversations with, ‘what up.’ ” she pointed to the words on the board, “When writing a letter on one of these said platforms, what goes here?”
“A question mark?” One man in the front squawked.
Whack, said the cane, “Oooowww” said the smart ass. Ms. Mona pointed the cane at his face.
“What else?” The man bowed his head and hissed through his teeth, clearly still smarting from the angry sting of the cane on his thigh.
“Anyone?” Mona straightened up, smoothed her silk tie over her crisp white blouse. The room was silent.
“Let me put it another way. From the moment you make contact with a woman, you are showing her how she can expect to be treated. ‘What up’ is a half-assed effort, and the lack of proper punctuation,” she rubbed the head of the man who had gotten that part right, “shows her that it’s not really a question.”
She strode back to the board, giving the class a brief glimpse of her heart-shaped ass wrapped tight in a pencil skirt before she pointed to a set of bullets on the board:
“Let’s discuss this third bullet. What does it mean? You.” Mona stepped towards a chubby dude who described himself as “jacked” in his profile and who sat quaking in the back.
“Uh, sending the same message to a bunch of different women?”
“That’s right. Playing the numbers game. Casting a wide net. Not bothering to read what this woman wrote, and thereby showing her that you are only interested in what she looks like and not who she is.” She leaned in close enough that he could probably smell the gardenia. “You do that, don’t you, Ronald? Play the numbers game?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Ronald cowered. Mona pinched his ear and lifted his face to force eye contact.
“And you won’t be doing that again, will you, Ronald?”
“No, Ma’am.” In one motion, Mona pulled loose the main restraint anchoring Ronald’s fat ass to the tiny chair, lifted his enormous frame by his twisted lobe so that he was almost simultaneously hobbled by his limbs still trapped in the desk and toppling over. Ms. Mona choked up on the cane with her left hand and swatted him in a piercing X across his hairy ass. She released him and he dropped as she lingered back down the row of desks, “Nor will you, Mike, or Chris, or Joe, or Sam or Raj?”
The men shuddered, mumbled, and hunched.
“Dudes,” She made a 180 to face them again.
“If you want entertainment, read erotica, get a fleshlight, or find a community where people are there to chat about dirty shit. But don’t go on dating sites and talk to women in New Zealand who state right on their profile that they’d like to date people within 50 miles of them!” She tapped on Raj’s desk for emphasis. “If she says she hates sports and you spend every weekend at the game, is she a good fit for you?”
“Which brings me to my next point: if she does not answer, that’s a no. Two times makes sure, after that, assume your attentions are unwanted and move. the fuck. on. Wish her well and don’t, I mean don’t write her a nasty note, that is what children do.
“Now we get to the good stuff: I call this part too sexy too soon. Maybe you don’t realize that for every one woman that you write to, that same woman is getting dozens of messages, maybe more if she’s hot. But you can safely assume all women get many many inquiries.
“Very quickly,” She moved to another set of bullets, “here are the guys in the basement and what they do on a regular basis:
“And you get the idea so this is what you are up against. Now you are here, and not in the basement because we believe that you can be trained. You boys are just ignorant.”
A few of the men, despite their discomfort, nodded.
As she said this, Mona noticed a grimace of arrogance off to the side of the room. The expression rode on the face of a young alpha dude named Jason who looked like he could shatter those little desks from the inside.
“In short, you men underestimate the garden of earthly delights on the other side, once a woman feels genuinely safe. She is free to experiment, free to ask questions, she is open to sensation.”
She set the cane down and sat on his desk sideways, lifting her knee and unsnapping a little tube of lube from her garter. Then she drew out a little latex driving glove and put it on her left hand. She wet the glove with the lube and reached under the desk.
He bolted against the attached chair, thrashing, but it was riveted to the floor, and a sly little smirk flickered over Mona’s face that seemed to say, I’m smarter than you.
Her hand grappled his junk and began to tug him erect as she continued, “believe me when I say that we want to see your cocks, boys, we are curious as hell about them but we will let you know when the time comes to share this information. And if you wait,” she locked eyes with Jason who looked as though he was trying to will himself from getting hard, “you can have what you want if you mind your manners, if you listen, if you wait for her signals and don’t act all fucking shocked when she is super careful. That woman is not paranoid, she’s smart,” Mona’s hand under the desk switched gears and Jason grunted despite himself. A few of the other men could crane their heads to catch some of the action happening under the desk.
Mona deftly stroked the angry young man’s cock to its full hardness, then she sped up again, murmuring to him, “c’mon, young stud, show me how virile you are, most of you cannot keep an erection for longer than three minutes without blowing a load so show me…” bringing him just to the brink of climax before releasing him and peeling off the glove, tossing it in the wastebasket. Jason dropped his forehead on the wooden top of the desk in front of him. He let out an extended groan.
“So in closing for today, dudes, I am going to teach you how to exercise some restraint. Tomorrow, we will be going over selfie no-no’s, like the Bathroom Selfie and the Gym Selfie, and other forms of self-sabotage. Oh and how to use silverware if you do finally make it to a dinner date.”
If I have an object fetish, it’s certainly the collar. Maybe it has to do with my girlhood days as an equestrienne, but the leather does it for me.
To put the collar on a submissive is an incredibly erotic act; to have the collar on instills a feeling of being contained, brought under control, also delectably erotic.
Then there are all the fun ways that collar can be applied: tractioning, leading, restraining. It’s also a non-verbal training signal that it’s time to pay attention and serve. Some people use it only when they play, while some submissives are made to wear their collar whenever they are in private or in BDSM-friendly company.
From where I sit (on the Chaise Longue) you don’t have to go all heavy duty with the pain or the toys to expand your sexual horizons with your partner; the leash and collar really alters the bedroom dynamic in a dramatic way. I don’t really need a whole lot of other implements when I put that thing on a hot specimen of manflesh. Okay, one of these would be great. I mean, look how convenient that is!
Ahem, as I was saying. So for the sake of poetic ritual, I’ll give you my 15 reasons that the collar and leash are a gynormous turnon:
I’m planning on slapping one of these bad boys on a farmer this weekend, taking him for a trot around the lake. More reports to follow.