September 11, 2014

August 16, 2014

Self Expression, Want to be Better?

Looking for a safe and fun way to improve your interpersonal skills and be your more authentic self? Join others in a weekend long exploration of friendship, intimacy and self discovery. Learn not to be afraid to express who you are and what you want.

Spend a weekend with like minded souls in the beautiful Texas hill country about two hours east of Austin. The weekend will start with dinner on Friday. Dinner will be followed by games to help people get to know each other, and then there will be a campfire for relaxing and enjoying the evening.

The rest of the weekend will include games, exercises and a ton of interaction. Take this opportunity in a safe and supportive environment to connect to your sexuality and overcome blocks to its free expression. See how you could better express yourself and interact with others in a way that is more fulfilling and authentic.

What’s keeping you from the fullest, freest, most joyful expression of your sexuality?

I know the people who are presenting this event, and I can assure you it will be worthwhile and enjoyable.

Learn more about this exciting weekend adventure at Camp Frolic.

May 1, 2014

Concert - Raleigh North Carolina - Saturday, May 31st

And you can tell people one day - "Yeah, I was there when . . ."

So, what is this all about? Kat Robichaud was a contestant on the TV show, The Voice, and was one of the Top 10 finalists for season 5, fall of 2013. She had previously been in the band, The Design, which has disbanded. They produced two albums, Laziest Perfectionist and Young America; you can listen to samplings at and on iTunes, and other places I am sure.

After the Voice she started a Kickstarter project (a crowd-sourcing-funding website) to record and produce her first solo album. You can see more about the project on her Kickstarter page. And yes, I confess, I am one of the 880 people.

One of the promises she made as part of the funding program was if her second stretch goal was achieved, she would be having a concert in Raleigh, NC on Saturday May 31st. So was borne An Evening with Kat Robichaud. Included in the show will be all of the songs from her new album, which she has just finished recording. Much more about the album and concert is here on her Facebook page. Tickets are like $10 and $12 - cheap at twice the price.

Obviously being in Las Vegas I am not going to be able to attend a Saturday night concert in Raleigh, NC but would suggest that you do, I think it is going to be really awesome. It will include a couple other performers/bands, a costume party with awards for best costumes and a number of vaudevillian acts, both on stage and roaming the floor. The entire concert/show will be streamed live on Youtube, so if you are going to be there, let me know. Maybe I will see you on Youtube.

(Unfortunately, I can't make the lovely little Box play bars anymore)

That is one of her more mellow love songs, but you can find more of her music, more raucous rock on her Youtube channel.

So, if you are anywhere on the east coast, or even NY or FL, head on over and have a great weekend in Raleigh NC which I understand is a beautiful place and a great place to spend a weekend if you are going to a Saturday night concert. And if you aren't in the east coast somewhere but are flexible and mobile, go ahead and go anyway.

And if you are inflexible like me and can't make it, but find the whole idea interesting, join me on Youtube that Saturday night, May 31st!!

April 14, 2014

Post No Bills

I am sure we all get the spammers who attempt to attach a comment to your blog post that has some nearly nonsensical verbiage that has nothing to do with your post and then encourages the reader to check out their website. Like this:

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Timeless in a Window's Light":
Hi, all the time i used to check web site posts here early in the break of day, for the reason
that i enjoy to learn more and more.
Also visit my site ... get more views

This is the digital blog equivalent of the kinds of actions that resulted in the Post No Bills signs being plastered all over billboards and other signs "back in the day".

Well, it occurred to me that since I am not writing anything of substance these days, that I could at least use this space, and the kindness of my readership to "post bills" about some projects that friends of mine are involved in. Things that I think are interesting and worthwhile, and perhaps entice you, the reader, to look into it and give it some consideration, perhaps even enough to become an active participant.

More to follow...

December 6, 2013

Six Years

Five fingers, and a thumb? Maybe this explains why I haven't been writing/typing? Well, probably not.

Six years of blogging. Well, 5 years of blogging and then the last year of owning the blog but barely using the blog. I am surprised, and pleased, to see that people are still visiting the blog even though I have contributed little to it over this past year.

I am certainly not done with Frederick and Agnes although I have left them alone for over a year and I wonder what has developed between the two of them. We will have to watch and see.

The whole landscape of Dominance and submission and BDSM seems changed over the past six year. So much more prevalent and accepted these days, more outlets for opinions and perspectives; things like FetLife, Shades of Gray, and a gazillion blogs, so much more "out there" than it was six years ago. I am not sure if that is better or worse?

And there has been a nearly complete turn over of the blogs I discovered and followed 3 and 5 and 6 years ago. I know many people say, 5 years is a good run for a blog. Perhaps I have run my course? Who knows, I certainly hope not.

September 20, 2013

Knock Knock - Flash Fiction Friday

Knocking several times and not getting any response, she leaned in close to the door and said,“Sir? Hello?” and still there was no response.

Against her better judgment, and her training, she balled up her fist and pounded on the door three times. Still there was no response, so she leaned in close again. Aiming her voice at the crack between the door jamb and door, and in a much louder voice, she said, “Sir? Are you there? Please answer!” She was alarmed how loudly her voice echoed in the courtyard and looked around embarrassed.

Leaning her ear against the door she listened for any sound inside the house. Finally she heard the sound of footsteps inside and spoke again, “Sir? Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here, who is this?”

“It’s me Sir, Sally. I’ve come to get my forgotten shoes.”

Now she could hear his voice right at the door, but there was no sound of him unlatching or attempting to unlock and open the door.

“Sir, can you please open the door?”

“Hang on, I’ll go and get your shoes for you.”

“Sir, may I please come in, it’s not just my shoes that I’ve left behind.”

Word Max = 200, Word Min = 200, Bonus Words - None, Key Phrase - None - - Just tell a story

September 11, 2013

May 11, 2013

The Incredible Power Of Concentration - Miyoko Shida

Worth the time to watch. Amazing!!

February 8, 2013

Writing Exercise - Septolet

On a monthly basis, The Erotica Readers & Writers Association Blog offers an exercise or challenge to provoke writers to try new forms of expression. I did one of these a while ago, back here, and now have tried the current suggestion, the Septolet.


eyes closed
listening to her breathing

sensing her effort
against the bindings


lying quietly
on the couch
her below

arm dangling
tracing her stomach
muscles flexing

Go and visit their site, and learn about this alternative style and give it a try, The Erotic Readers and Writers Association - septolet

If you decide to give it a try, please think to leave a link below in the comments so we might all enjoy it.

December 21, 2012

Father Christmas - Flash Fiction Friday

I came in and found sweet slave Sally, wonderfully naked, decorating the Christmas tree. Her nakedness had an immediate effect on me.

“Oh, Sir, I am so glad you are here. These branches are too high for me to reach.”

I went over behind her, pressed against her backside and leaned in to help place the ornaments.

But she smiled, saying, “Father is looking for you.”

* * * * 

In the foyer I found sweet patient Patricia, tethered to the centerpost of the room, in clamps, a plaid skirt and heels.

Taking advantage of her, I leaned in kissing her under the mistletoe and slid my fingers up under her skirt. She moaned softly and squirmed from side to side. I leaned in, going for more.

But she smiled, saying, “Father is looking for you.”

* * * * 

I reluctantly walked off toward the back of the house, calling out, “Father, where are you?”

I heard his voice in the distance, “Stay!”

And then his voice boomed, “Sit up!”

I turned the corner and found a totally unexpected sight, a sweet new girl, collared and leashed, sitting up.

“Ahh.” he said, “There you are.”

“Just doing some final training with your Christmas present, Puppy.”

Woof! Woof!

The Challenge, as issued by Advisor:

So many choices.....  I've been thinking about a holiday post, something Christmas/Holiday oriented, because, believe me, there's not a lot of Hanukkah porn. I checked. I know that this time of year is busy for everyone but I hope you will find some time to write a naughty little something to keep our holiday spirit hard in our hearts.  :-)  

I decided to give you a gift of my own.  You get to choose from three of my favorite Christmas Pictures, but, the prompt and word count are the same for all three!

Prompt Word = Unexpected 
Word Count = 200 (same as my Christmas budget) (Spot on: 66 + 66 + 66 + 2 = 200)
Extra Credit = Use more than one picture... (Absolutely)

Find out who else is playing along today, their links are at the bottom of the current post at Advisor's blog.

December 14, 2012

Next - Flash Fiction Friday

Hearing their noise, I could not help but peek and stare into the room and watch the action. I knew I was to be next and wanted a bit of an inkling as to what would be happening.

As he would thrust forward and back there was squealing from both the girl and the bed springs. With them both on their knees the old wire spring form bed frame was stressed and showing it’s age. Odd that my discovery of the bed frame and its structure and compliance would be so distracting. But knowing I would be next made me wonder if my stature would have a similar effect. The noise nearly overshadowed the sounds of both of their pleasures.

With each thrust she would scream and grunt. She pushed back to keep from being driven forward to collapse, rocking back as he withdrew slightly, shifting his weight back over his knees.

I reached down, touching myself, still so sore from the last time in the room down the hall. But here I was again, next, hearing the man explode and release and her loud reaction. I steeled myself for my turn; still so sore from where the strap-on had rubbed against me, I wondered if I could be as forceful with her as the man had been.

For this week,
The key word is, "Discovery"
The world limit is 219
Extra Credit for NOT using the word, symbol, or synonym for 3/three or any variation thereof (or in any language)
Extra Extra Credit is given to anyone who suggests a FFF picture HERE.

December 7, 2012

Right Here - Flash Fiction Friday

click to enlarge

When I answered the door, I didn't think it would be a problem, I invited him in and said, “Let me go pull on a pair of shorts.”

As I hurried down the hall I heard his footsteps behind me. I started to turn but he grabbed me by the back of the neck, pushing me forward. He said he was going to push me up against a wall and do dirty things to me. I said, “No, don’t!”

He seemed uncertain what to do, but finally made his decision and pushed me face first against the wall. He pressed me hard against the wall, right here. Exactly, right here, my face, see? the oil from my skin, and sweat?

I felt his hand slip down my back, his fingers between my cheeks, and, well, you know how much I love that. All I could say was, “Please. Don’t. Stop.”

This week's Flash Fiction Friday (FFF) challenge phrase (and this is the hard part): Decision. The word limit is 150 or 300 if you do the extra credit of writing both perspectives. (I will have to settle for the Extra Extra credit, but not the Extra).

Reference back to Advizor's blog for the original challenge and other contributions. I hope many of you will one day (next week?) decide to join in the fun, would that be FFFF?

December 6, 2012

Five Years

Five years blogging, one half of a decade, seems like such a long time although in truth the time has flown by. It has been a quiet year for me blogging, somewhere about mid year I lost my fire and have not found my voice. Ideas percolate but never seem to issue forth or get mired in drafts.

Part of it was the “demise” of Flash Fiction Friday (FFF) which helped keep me inspired, and it is coming back. In fact it has been around being kindly shepherded by a couple of good souls but I had lost my visibility to it. I will welcome it back as it was helpful in keeping my mind engaged. Previously there was a dedicated blog that housed/hosted FFF but that owner/host has been overwhelmed by circumstance. Hopefully it will find a permanent home again soon, a place where people can be directed to and get ensnared into the game. Tomorrow, 12/7, I will be posting another FFF offering, based on a picture I found that sparked my imagination.

Another pending loss is e[lust], which will go silent at the end of this month unless a new mistress(es) can be found. e[lust] was a resurrection of the idea behind Sugasm, a monthly collection of blog posts centered on erotica where bloggers submit their favorite pieces each month and some sort of evaluating is done and monthly top choices are made. Even if a piece is not selected, all of the stories submitted receive very wide distribution and I have found some of my favorite new authors or undiscovered writers through their inclusion in the e[lust] monthly offerings. It will be a greater loss than we realize even now.

Neither of these, or other prodding were my impetus to write, but they were like snacks along the way. They were/are tasty little treats that sustained the energy level and kept the creative juices simmering. I still have every intention of continuing the story of Frederick and Agnes, and other little projects like 100 words.

So it is a much more subdued recognition of the annual marker this year but rest assured I am still here even if it is currently more as a blog reader rather than blog writer. I will accept that writers’ energies wax and wane and forge on.

I am pleased to see from my statistics that there is a steady stream of friends/readers/visitors passing by each day, your interest and participation is greatly appreciated.

September 11, 2012

September 3, 2012


Holding her hands in mine, arms outstretched, I backed through the archway into the living room. She walked forward, following my progress toward the large overstuffed chair.

I sat down in the chair and positioned her on the ottoman facing me; and placed her hands on her knees. She sat calmly, seemingly comfortable with her nakedness.

I pulled her list from my shirt pocket and read it over. Then I read it out loud, watching her reactions.

I handed her the list, “Read the two immediate goals out loud.”

She did.

“Okay, let’s begin. Tell me about the first goal.”

August 16, 2012

e[lust] edition # 39

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #40? Start with the newly updated rules, come back September 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

See many more of the great submissions, Read More . . .

August 15, 2012

Ready Now

Came from here

Noticing how calm and compliant she was, I continued to circle around her. I moved from in front of her, to behind her, stopping there, looking at the back of her head.

Calm and quiet, I didn’t make a sound, she turned her head left, then right, looking for me. I traced fingers through her hair, her whole body shivered.

I walked around in front of her again and lifted her chin with the tip of my finger and smiled at her. I put my hands out to her and she put hers in mine and I lifted her up.

July 30, 2012

When Frederick Met Camille

Frederick got up from the desk and went to answer the knock at the door, surprised they hadn’t used the bell. Standing before him was a lovely young girl, dressed in something resembling a bell boy’s outfit including the stylized hat and white gloves. She offered him an envelope with great flourish. With an upturned, open palm she indicated that he should open it, and she stood silent and still. The whole routine made him grin.

Before he turned his attention to the envelope he looked the girl up and down. The bell boy costume was very true to form except for one obvious unusual feature, the lack of buttons down the front of the shirt. The shirt was open at the neck, plunged down to a single studded closure at the navel and with the tails tucked into a pair of tailored low-rise trousers. A pair of suspenders bracketed her smallish, but ample breasts, pressing them together into a cleavage that amplified the open front of the shirt.

He stood and stared at the girl’s chest, her navel and the snug fit of her trousers, largely ignoring the envelope until a second gesture reminded him to open it.

Finally, Frederick broke the wax seal on the back of the envelope and pulled out its contents, a card which read:

Personal Invitation

You are invited to spend the evening as the guest of Patrick

A limousine will arrive to pick you up at 7:00 PM

Transportation will be provided to and from the event

Dress is formal casual and all your needs will be attended to for the evening

R.S.V.P. to the delivery boy

Laughing out loud, he said to himself, Patrick, you sneaky bastard. This explained Patrick’s dinner invitation for this very evening issued a couple weeks ago, an obvious ploy to lock in his calendar.

He looked back up at the girl, still standing stark still in front of him, again noticing her breasts, but this time also the stylized page boy haircut, very bright red lipstick and dramatic eyebrow makeup. She was an attractive girl, probably in her late 20s and she obviously seemed to be enjoying playing this role, if it was a role she was playing.

After giving the girl another once over, he returned his attention to her face and invited her in, but she waved off the invitation with a dismissive gesture. She tilted her head with a quizzical look, begging his response.

“Please tell Patrick I am happy and excited to accept his invitation and will be glad to attend the event.”

At that the girl tipped her hat, smiled, and turned and headed toward the stairs, leaving him to stand and watch her trim little body flow off down the hall. It was his first opportunity to notice just how nicely the trousers had been tailored all around. She turned right and disappeared down the stairwell, leaving behind the faint scent of jasmine and a not so faint, lovely memory.

He walked to the end of the hallway and stepped through the French doors into the bright morning sun and onto the little balcony. Looking down he saw a shiny black limousine with a driver holding the back door open. Just then the girl came out of the building and stepped into the back seat. The driver closed the door and walked around to his side of the car. Looking in through the sunroof he could see the girl removing her hat and shaking out her hair as they drove off.

* * * *

Walking back into the apartment he read over the invitation again, turned it over, looked into the envelope and realized it didn’t offer any explanation of the nature of the evening ahead. “All your needs will be attended to”, was very broad, and seemingly all inclusive. And the dress code; dress formal casual, what was formal casual, black silk pajamas? He sat down in his easy chair and pondered his knowledge of Patrick and tried to imagine exactly what he had in mind for the evening ahead. He leaned his head back and soon dozed off.

* * * *

After awakening from his late morning nap, he went about his routines, doing some business online and reading/responding to various emails.

At 5 o’clock he got up from his desk and went about showering and shaving and dressing for the evening. He decided on a pair of relaxed slacks, a button up collarless shirt and a pair of sandals. It was going to be a warm evening and he wanted as much comfort as his wardrobe could afford him.

Just as the sun was setting the doorbell rang. He looked at his watch, 7 o’clock on the button. Opening the door he found a nice looking gentleman in a black suit, white shirt with an open collar and a black beret, the chauffeur.

“Frederick, yes? Your ride is here, are you ready?”

“Yes, I am, thank you. Just let me get my things and I will be right down.”

“Very good Sir, I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

Frederick turned back into the apartment to make sure everything was turned off, put his keys and coins and billfold into his pockets and grabbed his shoulder bag. One last look around and he walked out the door and headed down the stairwell. At the front door the limo driver stood holding the back passenger door for him. He climbed in, the door was closed and he settled back, enjoying the nice cool air blowing through the vents.

The driver got into the car and leaning around over the seat back, through the partition to say, “I have one stop to make along the way and then I will get you to Patrick’s club straight away.”

“Very good, thank you.”

As the heavily smoked partition was closed he found himself in a nearly dark backseat, which was very comfortable and offered legs-straight-out leg room, a luxury he really appreciated. Looking around he saw a sound system control panel and what looked like a small liquor cabinet beside a mini refrigerator. These were flanked by cushions for fold down rear facing jump seats which would consume a good bit of the spacious leg room, but in their folded upright position were completely out of the way.

He was so engrossed in surveying the surrounds he had not paid any attention to where the driver was taking him and was startled when the car pulled over out of traffic and settled into a parking space on the wrong side of the street in front of a dress shop. Looking up through the sunroof he could see that the building was three stories tall; there was the street level business and two floors of what appeared to be residences above it. The driver got out and went through a doorway at the side of the storefront, probably a stairway up to the second and third floors.

He continued to explore the fitments in the back of the limo, changing the sound system from the FM radio to the CD function and the system clicked into some very nice soft jazz. He decided he would let the CD continue to play. It was not an artist that he knew, but he very much liked the music.

Suddenly the opposite back door of the limo was opening and someone was climbing into the back of the limo with him as the driver closed the door. It was the bellboy girl who had delivered the invitation to him earlier in the day, still dressed in the same silly costume. He turned sideways in his seat and just looked at her as she sat looking at him.

“Hello, I guess I’m giving you a ride to work at Patrick’s?” He wondered if she would speak this time or continue to be mute as she had been at their morning meeting.

“Hello. Well, not exactly. I’m going with you to Patrick’s, yes, but not to work. I’m your blind date for the evening.”

Frederick sat there astonished. What had Patrick arranged for him? Who was this girl? What was going on? He suddenly realized that he was staring at her with his mouth half open in amazement. He mentally shook himself. He tapped on the partition and told the driver to remain here for the time being while he straightened this out.

“I’m sorry young lady, but I’m really not interested in some hired escort for the evening. I don’t know what Patrick has promised you or what arrangements he might have made, but I don’t think this is something that is going to work out.”

She smiled and said, “There have been no arrangements made by Patrick, or anyone, for you in regard to me. I am here of my own free will and interest, and am not an escort of any kind or someone who can be arranged for in such a manner.”

“Really? Then can you tell me what this is all about?” he asked.

“My name is Camille and I am one of the owners of this dress shop.” she said, gesturing out the window to the storefront.

“I’ve worked with Patrick on the arrangements for this evening, but as an accomplice, and have outfitted two girls for him with dresses and fittings for this evening. However, they have nothing to do with you, or me. That was business I had with Patrick. Being here with you and going to Patrick’s party with you is something I arranged for on my own. You might say I invited myself to his party. In fact, I invited you to his party as well.”

“Then what is this evening all about, what is it that you and Patrick have cooked up? And how do I figure into this scheme?”

“Patrick made arrangements for a few of his very special customers, a surprise party in the private part of his club; you know where I am talking about. When he was telling me about the evening and asking for my help, I asked why you were not included. He said he didn’t think you would enjoy such an arranged evening and so had not included you.”

“He was right; this kind of a party is not my cup of tea. You should have listened to his counsel.”

“Sir, please hear me out. This is not about you being part of some special party at Patrick’s, but rather about me having found an opportunity to spend some time with you and get to know you. We met briefly at my 30th birthday party at Patrick’s a couple years ago; I found you very intriguing and appealing. Tonight’s party has simply afforded me the chance to invite you to be my guest for an evening. I want you to be my date; I want to be your date, for the evening.”

He stared at her and thought about this. What an interesting and elaborate ruse she had concocted. He looked at her, she was a cute girl, he had noticed that even in the morning and decided he might enjoy this evening after all. And he had complete faith in Patrick and so would trust his involvement.

“Well, if we are going to go through with this evening’s plans, whatever they might entail, we need to change your clothes. I don’t want to spend the evening with a girl whose outfit looks like a cross between an organ grinder and his chimp. I loved your costume this morning, but it is not appropriate for an evening out.”

Frederick tapped on the partition again and told the driver they were going back up to the apartment for a few minutes and would be back down shortly.

He reached across Camille’s lap and pushed the door open and followed her out. She unlocked the door to the stairway and he followed her up the stairs to the third floor. He had to admit that he really did love the way her trousers were tailored and would not have minded several more flights of stairs for the opportunity to enjoy the view of her cheeks swaying back and forth, so snugly contained.

He continued to follow her up the stairs, down the hall and waited patiently while she opened her apartment door and let him in. He looked around and saw a very nicely appointed living room, sparingly furnished in a semi-modern style. The decor showed semblances of her profession, she clearly brought her fashion and dress shop work home with her.

“Where is your closet?”

She suddenly seemed quite shy, in contrast to the girl who had just told him how she had arranged this evening as a bold and forward way of getting to know him. Suddenly she was shy about him looking into her closet. Finally, she pointed to a hallway off of the living room and he could see a set of double doors on the left side of the hall.

He stepped into the hall and in front of the doors, “Right here?”

She nodded her head and he pulled the doors open and found a surprisingly large walk in closet, completely out of proportion to the size of the apartment. He walked in and could instantly see how the closet was arranged. Pants and slacks hanging over here, then jackets, then skirts, blouses next and finally dresses. He started browsing through the dresses as Camille came up beside him, looking very anxious. As he thumbed through, he would occasionally push a space open to view a particular dress and then move on. Toward the end of the section of dresses he came upon a dark blue halter dress secured to its hanger by braided ties. He spread open some space and gave it a more thorough examination. It was a very simple dress, almost skimpy in design with a hi-low hem style, considerably shorter in the front than in the back. It had a deep plunging back and nice peek-a-boo slit between the breasts. He glanced over at Camille and the plunging neckline of her shirt and could imagine how nicely the dress would cling to the shape of her breasts and show their roundness through the open slit.

He pulled the dress down off the pole and held it up to Camille. She instinctively grabbed the material and spread it across her body to show how it would look on her. He nodded his approval and draped the dress across the back of the chair in the corner. He turned back to the closet and looked through the rest of the dresses, but couldn’t find anything else that would overrule his first choice.

He turned and looked back at Camille and saw a strange look on her face, “What?”

“No man has ever come into my home, taken over my closet and selected something for me to wear quite like this. Certainly men have suggested what they would like to see me in, but never has anyone taken over a clothing selection so thoroughly. I am not sure what to think about it, I find it very appealing, it is a very sexy thing to do to a girl. Do you know that?”

He broke out in a broad smile and said, “Yes, I do. Perhaps it is part of what makes me, how did you say it, “intriguing and appealing”? If you had not liked it, it probably would have signaled a very short evening.”

He stepped over in front of her and pulled the suspenders and shirt down off her shoulders. Without waiting for a reaction he stepped past her, gave her a firm but playful backhanded swat on the bottom and walked into the living room, “Hurry up now and get changed.”

* * * *

Frederick went and sat down on the couch and waited for her, casually looking around at the room’s furnishings. It was a very comfortable room. He sat back and relaxed.

When she came out, she stopped in the middle of the room, turned around slowly and said, “What do you think? Is it what you expected?”

He was very impressed, the dress clung to her features exactly as it was designed, it cupped her pert breasts, flowed down off her hips, and the dipped back came right down to the dimples in the small of her back, just above her buttocks. He raised his eyebrows and said enthusiastically, “It’s lovely and looks exactly how I had hoped it would on you, wonderful. And I really like the shoes.”

She had added a pair of fairly high heels that really accented her legs, but he noticed something wrong and told her to come closer. She came up and stood right in front of him, “Yes?”

He reached out and put his hand on the outside of her calf and paused to judge her reaction. Finding none, he slowly slid his hand up her calf, past her knee and on up the outside of her thigh until he felt the top of the thigh-hi stockings she was wearing. He hooked his thumb into the elastic around their top, looked up into her eyes and made a clucking sound, “These will have to go.”

She registered no surprise, just acceptance. He moved his hand further up her thigh until his hand was on her bare hip. He shook his head back and forth, “No, no, this isn’t right. Sit down here and remove those stocking.”

He got up and gave her a hand sitting down onto the couch then walked off into the hallway out of sight. When he returned Camille was sitting with her legs half tucked under the couch, stockings folded neatly, sitting on the coffee table. He walked up to her and said, “Here, put these on.”

It was a small pair of black mesh bikini panties.

* * * *

Once they were back out in the limo and heading towards Patrick's place Camille fell silent again and he took to alternately looking out the window and looking her over head to toe, becoming more and more intrigued with her audacity at setting up such an arrangement. It was not often that he was so actively pursued by someone, preferring to be the aggressor himself, and usually beating them to the punch.

When the limo pulled up to the VIP entrance at the side of Patrick’s club Camille started to get out of the car, but he gestured toward her to stay and said, “I need to speak to Patrick for a minute and then I’ll be back for you.”

Camille nodded and settled back down in her seat as he got out and walked through the entrance into the club.

Patrick stepped forward and greeted his friend with a hug, “So good to see you Frederick. I’m very pleased you accepted my invitation and decided to join us for the evening. I promise, you will have a wonderful time.”

Looking around past Frederick’s shoulder Patrick seemed confused, he said, “You are always so punctual, you're actually a little early, things won’t be starting for a while now. But where is Camille?”

“She’s out in the car waiting for me. I’m looking forward to the show tonight, but I have a couple things to do first. I assume you won’t mind me using the limo and driver for a while longer?”

“Not at all, just don’t be too long, I wouldn’t want you to miss anything. How long will it be before you are back?”

“Probably not much more than an hour, maybe a bit longer.”

“Hopefully not, we should just be getting underway in an hour or so. What do you need to do first?”

He smiled at Patrick, shook his hand and clapped his shoulder with his free hand, “See you in a while Patrick,” and turned and walked back out.

After exiting the club he walked around to the driver and tapped on the window. The driver lowered the window, “Patrick has extended me the use of you and your car for a couple of errands I need to run before the party tonight. I hope you will be able to accommodate me?”

“Most certainly Sir. I was hired for the evening and would just be waiting around for several hours to drive you home at the end of the night. I’ll be happy to have something to do.”

“Very good, thank you.” At that he gave him instructions on where to drive to and went around and got back into his seat.

* * * *

Frederick slid his hand across the back of the seat as he got into the car, letting it come to rest on Camille’s shoulder and then neck, and said, “Patrick says hello and he hopes you’re having a nice evening; that everything is going as you’d planned.”

Rather than pulling away from his hand she leaned in his direction, smiled and said, “So far so good, wouldn’t you say?”

He just smiled in response and lifted the big armrest divider up and back into the cushion so there was nothing between them. At that, Camille moved over across the seat a bit more so that his hand was now on her opposite shoulder and she leaned in against him slightly. He responded by tightening his grip around her and they both settled back and fell silent and both seemed absorbed in listening to the music.

After they had been driving for a few minutes she asked, “Where are we going? Aren't we going to go to Patrick’s party?”

“We’ll be going back to the party after a while, but nothing will be starting for an hour or two, and rather than hang around all those people I thought we might enjoy the quiet night or maybe going for swim.”

Camille gave him look of surprise, “A swim? Where on earth would we go swimming?”

He looked down at her with a conspiratorial smile and said, “I’m a member of a private club that has a very nice facility that just happens to include a full sized swimming pool.”

She looked up at him and smiled, and moved closer, raising her head and offered him a kiss, which he willingly accepted and prolonged. He pulled her in closer, wrapped his arm around her tighter and turned in his seat to more fully engage with her. When they broke the kiss they were both looking into each other eyes, smiling, even grinning. He moved his hand up to the back of her head and slipped his fingers into her hair, taking a tight grip of a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. He leaned in and kissed her again, more aggressively than before and worked his mouth over hers, parting her lips with the tip of his tongue.

She let out a little moan at the tug on her hair and fell back, not offering any resistance to his pull, her lips parted slightly. He could feel her jaw relaxing as her mouth opened more. He rotated his body toward her and deepened the kiss which she returned with equal ferocity, her mouth now fully open and accepting his tongue as it probed and explored the insides of her mouth, her own tongue, her teeth and even the roof of her mouth.

Still gripping the back of her head by her hair he reached over and tucked his hand under her arm and pulled her over toward him. She rotated with the pull, but rather than ending up laying against him she moved so she was astride his left thigh, hands against his torso. He had to lean down even further to continue the kiss since she was nearly out of reach. As he tried to pull her up closer she put her hands on his chest and pushed off, breaking the kiss.

He let go of the kiss and his grip on her hair and took hold of her upper arms with each hand as she slid back even further, rocking herself in a grinding movement against the muscles of his upper thigh. His grip on her arms helped balance her on his leg. He smiled at her as he saw her eyes begin to glaze over, recognizing the pleasure she was bringing to herself. He could feel the damp heat in his leg as she rode up and back, making low gasping noises and he flexed the muscles on his leg to provide an even firmer surface for her.

As he held her arms, looking into her eyes, she looking back at him, he could feel her arms becoming tense. Her leg muscles grew tense as her whole body stiffened and she threw her head back and grunted out, panting and shaking all over. He held tight to her arms to help steady her until her spasms passed and she collapsed down against him, breathing heavily, gasping in short breaths.

Slowly but surely she relaxed and began taking longer, slower breaths, still with her face buried in his chest. Camille looked up at him and shook her head as if to clear her mind. She gave him a sly smile then collapsed back down against his chest again.

* * * *

As she laid there relaxing the limo came to a stop and the engine was shut off. Frederick heard the driver's door open, felt the car jostle, and then the door closed, then silence. He knew they had arrived at the club and the driver was excusing himself as they had discussed.

He took Camille’s head in his hands and said, “We are at the club swimming pool and the driver has left us for a while. He will be enjoying himself in the lounge until I call him back. Would you like to go for a swim?”

She shook her head, “No, not just yet.”

She laid there against his chest, still astride his thigh resting against his knee, he felt her hand on the inside of his leg. She was slowly running her hand up and down the inside of his thigh, stopping every once in a while to lightly pinch or squeeze a handful of flesh. He could feel her breathing starting to change again and the heavier her breath the more time she spent with her hand rubbing and pressing his erection.

Suddenly she moved, sliding down off of his thigh and landing on the floor of the back seat, between his feet and pulled herself up into a cross legged sitting position, and scooted herself up close to the seat between his thighs. She shifted around and pulled up on her dress so it rose and then bellowed down around and over her crossed ankles and legs. Once settled she put a hand on each of his thighs and rubbed them up and down, pushing further up each time until her hand were up around the waistband of his slacks. She curled her fingers inside the waistband and slid them to the center; she fumbled with buttons and zipper until she had them undone and was able to peel them open.

He felt her hands working to undo the waistband and then the feel of the material being peeled down. Next he felt her hands rubbing him through his shorts, knowing she could feel his involuntary throbbing. He looked down at her and saw the concentration and determination in her face. He reached out and was barely able to tangle his fingers in the hair at the top of her head, but could tell she enjoyed the tease, her head swayed and she hummed a soft tune.

Just then she reached up and roughly pulled down his shorts, so hard that he had to lift his hips off the seat to allow them to slide down off of his bottom. Once freed she took him in her hands and stroked slowly, stretching the skin, causing him to grow even harder as she worked him up and down. He let go of her hair and settled back, enjoying her handiwork. As she continued to work him with her hands his breathing got shorter and his hips moved up and back in rhythm with her stroking.

His arousal built more and more until he was starting to throb, he involuntarily moaned his pleasure. He was sure she should be able to feel it in her hand but was not slowing down or changing her pace in any way. He was feeling his release building deep in his groin and wasn’t sure how much more attention he was going to be able to tolerate without exploding. She looked at him and gave him a big smile then lowered her head again.

Suddenly she increased her pace and he knew he was moments away, sweating all over. All of his muscles tightened and his legs tried to push out straight. She leaned up onto her knees and forward toward him and pulled him down toward her and just as he could hold it no longer and burst out with his orgasm she placed her mouth over the head of his cock. She swallowed quickly, several times, until he stopped throbbing and began to relax, even though he did not soften yet.

She settled back on the floor, but continued to hold and caress him. After a couple minutes he began to relax and soften. He reached down and lifted her head until their eyes met, and they both smiled. He settled back and continued to hold her head, tangling his fingers in her tousled hair.

Camille moved up to the seat and sat close, cuddling up while he grappled with getting his slacks rearranged and buttoned and zipped up. After he had himself back together he pulled his phone and called the driver back.

* * * *

When the limo dropped them off at the club they were greeted just inside the door by Patrick himself, “Well, where have you two been for the past couple hours?”

“It is such a lovely night, we went to go for a swim. I hope we got back in time and didn’t miss much?”

“No, in fact things are just getting started. Go ahead on in and make yourselves comfortable. Someone will be around to get your drink and food orders shortly.”

“Thank you very much, we are looking forward to a very nice evening.”

As they walked by Patrick noticed that neither of them had wet hair. But before he could ask again they had moved into the crowd, into the noise, and on into the night.

June 17, 2012

e[lust] edition # 37

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #38? Start with the newly updated rules, come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

For a full list of all the excellent submittals - read more…

June 8, 2012



held immobile

kinked, inked, pinked

waiting for further attention


Inspiration from Writing Exercise - Cinquain

May 31, 2012

Equal but Different

A current post by Pygar, A Kind Dom, asks, “Who is in control?”, I responded:
"Ultimately, they each have the power to end the exchange, but it is a power exchange. She exchanges her power for his control and having done so, as long as the relationship/exchange continues, the Dom is in control.
If the sub withdraws, there no longer is a "who?"."

Two related topics, again by Pygar and his correspondents, “submission and feminism” and “submission, feminism and equality” also talk about who is in control but goes on to discuss the question of the value of the submissive in the power exchange relationship. The construct for women that is called feminism is about a quest for equality, and the full and complete right to choose from all the available options. There is nothing about feminism that equates to dominance just as there is nothing in it that is tied to submission.

Aisha also spoke on this topic in response to the Newsweek article about 50 Shades of Grey that suggests that the submission portrayed in that story is anti-feminist. She says:

". . . they’re trying to figure out the connection between women being equal and being submissive at the same time without understanding BDSM at all."'


"But i think it increases the split, creates a greater dichotomy, between feminism and submission, when in fact, it is not even a split. Not a dichotomy at all."

I think it is interesting that she titles her post, BDSM Lite because it reflects the common misconceptions. Until you have the real, personal, and visceral experience of Dominance/submission as Aisha says, you are almost sure to see the two positions in a hierarchical view where one is above the other, not a linear view, where they are truly side by side, equal but different.

Feminism is about having equal rights; what is done with those rights and that choice, it seems to me, is up to the individual. Some women may choose to take on a strong business challenge or be a dominant leader in her career, or to grab the reins of her relationship and lead her husband/man in the course of their connection and activities. Or, exercise that same free will and equal opportunity to choose letting go of her power in the context of a power exchange relationship where she knowingly relinquishes control and ceeds it over to her partner. Of course, she knows she can always take that power/control back, effectively ending the power exchange dynamic and perhaps consequently the relationship, or at least the currrent formulation of the relationship.

But there is no hierarchy like:




where if one is a feminist there is a better/higher position called Dominant and/or a lower/lesser one called Submissive. The feminist is a feminist, whether she chooses to be dominant or submissive or neither. Perhaps it is more like this:

Dominant - Feminist - Submissive

where she can choose either on a linear scale with no hierarchy involved at all. One is no better than the other, except as it relates to her personal feelings, perspective and desires.

There seems to be a popular sense, a misconception, that Dominant is superior to Submissive, higher, better? Admittedly in the context of a power exchange there may be that appearance. A feeling that the Top is above the bottom, qualitatively, not just physically, but I have always seen the dynamic as, again, "equal but different." I am not a better person because I am a Dominant nor do I see a/my submissive as a lesser person, nor would she view herself in that way. That “who is in control” discussion poses the exact question, who is in charge, who has control, who has the ultimate power. I would suggest that both parties have the power and control because without them being in the relationship 100% each, equally giving themselves to each other, there is not power exchange, no dynamic, and really no relationship.

May 30, 2012

Ohh, Be One

These aren't the droids you're looking for.

May 11, 2012

Chiquita - Flash Fiction Friday

click as she gets closer
I'd started snapping pictures from about 50 meters away. She was gorgeous, her bouncing breasts becoming more prominent, the closer she came. I could just barely hear her unintelligible song that was causing men's heads to swivel.

She playfully twirled her fingers through her hair with more than a hint of mischief as her other hand popped the buttons of her denim shorts. Now, just three meters away, in that singsong voice I hadn't understood, I heard her singing, “Gatito? gatito?”

Then, looking directly into my eyes she said, “Hey, chico, you wanna snap my kitty?”

Your challenge, use the picture above to write a flash fiction of less than 100 words. 
I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission: "...a hint of mischief..."

Photo Credit: (Source image unknown, provided a long time ago by the lovely Lexi)

April 23, 2012


On so many occasions she had walked by my shop, and I’d smile, and say, “Hey. Hello.”

She would half-smile and keep walking, sometimes looking back, sneaking a peek.

And now, here she was, sitting on the edge of my desk, looking shy, nervous. What was she doing here? Sitting in her little plaid schoolgirl skirt with charcoal gray knee socks, her tender thighs open slightly, offering a tempting space.

I put my hand on the inside of her left knee and she jumped a little. But as I moved my hand up her inner thigh, she opened even further.

April 6, 2012


"Yes." she said.

I let go of her chin, resumed circling around her, examining; bothering her attention, noticing. I noted the smooth soles of her feet, her high arches.

I grabbed a handful of hair, holding her head back, noticing her face. She stared up, half smiling, three quarters fearful. I let go her hair and her head flopped back down.

I moved around to her side, noticing the curves of her uplifted breasts, perky nipples.

Circling further, I noticed how her thighs were parted, opened, glimpsing the glistening darkness of her pubes, full and fluffy.

Was she really ready?

March 27, 2012

Your Name Is On My Lips

Four Years
Click to play

"Your Name Is On My Lips", by Chip Taylor and Carrie Rodriguez, from The New Bye & Bye - The Best of the Train Wreck Years 2002 - 2007

I heard your voice on the telephone today,
it's been a long time since we talked that way,
not so guarded, not so planned, I don't know,
just a natural woman and a man.

Didn't it feel so good, so warm,
you be the shelter from my storm, I don't know.
But it's a good thing, it is a good thing.
And your name is on my lips again,
and your name is on my lips again.
There was a time way back when,
swim the rivers and back again,
just to hold you, just to feel you holding me.

Lightening just passed through the telephone line,
it burns a fire from another time, I don't know.
But it's a good thing, it is a good thing.
And your name is on my lips again,
and your name is on my lips again.

And lightening just passed through the telephone line,
burns a fire from another time, I don't know.
But it's a good thing, it is a good thing.
And your name is on my lips again,
and your name is on my lips again.
And your name is on my lips again,
like a prayer, like a prayer,
your name is on my lips, again.

February 24, 2012

Calmed Down

She sat quietly on the floor while I circled around looking her over, her head bowed downward.

“Look up here.”

I reached down and touched her shoulder. Her skin was warm, but her nipples were hard and her breasts were covered in goosebumps. She shivered at my touch.

I trailed my hand in her tousled hair, tightly gripping a handful and she whimpered. She blushed when I stood in front of her, staring at her untrimmed pubes, (unusual for a girl her age).

Grabbing her chin I lifted her face up and looked into her eyes, “Are you ready now?”

February 16, 2012


“Gather yourself up.”

She collected her things and we walked out. She slid into the passenger’s seat and as I drove off, she just sat quietly.

When we got to my house, I took her wrist and walked her in. She handed me her purse and stood nervously in the middle of the room.

“Stand right there.”

I went and adjusted the heat, poured myself a glass of wine and returned to her.

I lifted her top off over her head, then pulled off her shorts and panties. Finally, I removed her sandals. She stood there, wonderfully naked.

“Sit down.”

February 14, 2012

Happy Valentine's Day



My Valentine

January 29, 2012

Agnes's Birthday - Dinner

Continued from here

The maitre d' looked down at his list and then back at Frederick and said, “Party of three?” Frederick said, “Yes, but only two of us are here now. We can be seated, we don’t need to wait.”

“Very good sir, right this way please.”

The assistant smiled as they stepped forward to be led to their table. Frederick smiled back, reaching out and handing the girl the bouquet of rose buds, “Could you please put these in a vase and have them brought to the table? Thank you.” She smiled and nodded.

Frederick put his hand in the small of Agnes’s back and ushered her forward to follow his lead. He led them through the front dining area toward a set of of doors that opened to the back room. Frederick noticed the attention that their passage was drawing, and knew that Agnes was the cause of the stirring. In her little black dress she was very alluring, catching the attention of both the men and the women as she passed by, enjoying the way her body moved. There was a natural flow to the dress, it clung at her hips and accented the shape of her bottom. The hem of the skirt flipped up to the back of each thigh alternately as she took each step and her hair swung in cadence with her arms.

Passing through the doors to the back dining area, they were in a room of surprisingly large size, filled with a half dozen extravagant overstuffed booths along one wall. On the right were heavily carved oak tables with various seating arrangements for parties of four or six. In between was what served as a dance floor and at the far end was a small step up stage cloaked by heavy curtains. Back to the far right was the sitting area with couches and tables, the area where Frederick had brought Agnes on their first evening out.

They were led to a table in the right side of the room; a table for four, but set for just three. The maitre d' held the menus in his hand and gestured with the other, indicating, ‘here is your table’. A server was standing at the far side of the table pouring glasses of water and next to him was the sommelier attending to a bucket filled with ice and a bottle of Riesling with it’s characteristically long thin neck.

Agnes moved to sit down but Frederick put a hand on her arm. She looked back at him and he shook his head and said softly, “Not just yet, hold on.” The server finished setting the table and walked off after exchanging nods with Frederick. The sommelier uncorked the bottle, poured a sampling into one of the wine glasses and offered it to Frederick. Frederick took the glass, swirled the liquid around, sniffed the bouquet and took a small taste. “Superb! Thank you very much.” Frederick sat the glass down, the sommelier poured a second glass, and finished filling Frederick’s glass, and placed the two glasses on the table. Frederick thanked him. He put the bottle back into the bucket and withdrew.

Just then the girl arrived with the bouquet of roses and placed them in the middle of the table. Frederick walked around behind Agnes and pulled out a chair for her, she sat down and he pushed it in. He walked around the table, moving the vase to the back edge of the table out of the middle and proceeded to seat himself, but before he sat down he picked up his wine glass, lifted it in a toast.

“Happy Birthday sweet girl. I hope you have an enjoyable evening and that it is a fitting celebration for you.”

Agnes picked up her glass, lifted it up toward Frederick, took a small drink and said, “Thank you very much Frederick. I am sure it will be, I am looking forward to the night.”

With that Frederick sat down himself and smiled across the table at Agnes. Looking around he could see that the booths were filling up and there was developing a strong background murmur of conversations across the room. He had noticed that they had captured the attention of several parties as they’d proceeded into the room and were escorted to their table.

“Why is there a third setting?”

“Someone will be joining us for dinner. He is a special friend of mine and I wanted him to help us celebrate your birthday.”

A waitress arrived with a basket containing a variety of breads, two shallow dishes and a rack holding olive oil and vinegar bottles. She poured a medium size pool of olive oil onto each dish then poured balsamic into the olive oil. Frederick noticed Agnes’s curious look and said, “Break off some bread and dip it into the mix.”

They sat and quietly drank wine and ate bread, with no conversation, listening to the background music. Just as the waiter stopped by to refresh their wine glasses another man approached Frederick and greeted him. “Good evening Frederick.”

Frederick stood and shook the man’s hand. “Good evening Patrick, I am so glad you were able to join us.”

Frederick pointed to the third wine glass, and the waiter poured a glass of wine for Patrick and ushered him to his seat.

Frederick introduced him to Agnes. “Patrick, this is Agnes, a very special friend of mine and our birthday girl. Agnes, this is Patrick, he is the owner of this restaurant.”

Agnes offered her hand and Patrick kissed it. “Happy Birthday Agnes, I am so pleased that you have chosen to celebrate your birthday here. I hope you have an enjoyable evening, one you will not forget.”

“It is an interesting and exciting place. I have been here once before with Frederick. In fact it was the first place he took me out to, and I confess it was an eye-opener.”

“What did you discover here Agnes?”

Well, sir, it was a place like I’ve never been to before. Before coming to Paris, I was just a country girl and had never ventured far from my hometown, a small town to the south. Since moving here and meeting Frederick I have seen many things that I didn’t know existed and seen things I never knew people did.”

Patrick gave her a knowing smile but simply said, “I am glad you enjoy yourself here.”

At that Patrick turned to Frederick and began discussing menu selections. Noting that Frederick had selected a very nice Riesling, he suggested a couple of fish dishes that he thought they would enjoy. Frederick asked if they had any particularly nice pasta dishes that he would recommend and Patrick mentioned a spaghetti with squash blossoms and an eggplant dish but wondered if they was substantial or festive enough for the occasion.

Patrick turned to Agnes and said, “So, since you are the birthday girl, do you have anything in particular that you would like to have for dinner?”

Agnes smiled back at him, looked at Frederick for a moment, and then back at Patrick and said, sheepishly but with conviction, “That is something that is up to Frederick, he has told me that he will be making all the decisions about the celebration of my birthday. I am a little apprehensive but so far so good, and I do trust his judgment.”

Patrick looked back at Frederick and gave him a wry smile, and said, “So, it would seem that you are the man of the hour. Knowing you as I do, I’m not surprised by this. What strikes your fancy this evening Frederick?”

Frederick returned the smile and said, “Let me have one last glance through the menu and see what I might have missed. In the meantime I think another bottle of wine would tide us over until the food starts to arrive.”

At that Patrick gestured to the waitress. She was there immediately and took the wine order. Shortly the wine steward arrived and uncorked a second bottle which he placed in the ice bucket after topping off everyones glasses.

Frederick put down the menu and turned to Patrick, “There are so many wonderful choices I am having a hard time selecting just one or two. What would be perfect for us would be a platter of your chefs favorite offerings of pastas and vegetable dishes. Something we could all share and experience a nice variety.”

“An excellent idea Frederick. Excuse me for a minute while I go to the kitchen and make some arrangements.” Patrick got up from the table and headed back toward the kitchen.

After he was gone Agnes agreed, what a wonderful idea that was because she herself had been having trouble selecting just one dish from several she was curious about. Frederick agreed and allowed as how Patrick surely had a very good idea what would be best although he’d not wanted to impose his ideas on them without allowing them their own choices.

The table fell into quiet as they all listened to the music of the quartet on stage, munched on bread and cheese, and just relaxed. Suddenly Frederick turned back to Agnes and said, “Please, sit up straight in your chair.”

In response Agnes adjusted and stiffened her posture in her seat, with a quizzical look on her face. She was clearly taken by surprise at Frederick’s command. She sat up straight, placed her napkin on the table and put her arms on the arms of the chair, feet flat on the floor. There was a small smile on her face that seemed to speak of self pride at complying perfectly with the instruction while waiting for his purpose to reveal itself.

Just then Patrick returned, beaming, and took his seat. He told them that he had taken the liberty of suggesting a couple dishes that would take a bit longer but would be well worth the wait. Frederick and Agnes both nodded their acceptance of his decisions and offered Patrick a small toast of thanks.

“Did I miss anything?” asked Patrick, noticing the overly formal way in which Agnes was sitting in her chair.

Agnes said, “Oh, no. We’ve just been listening to the lovely music and enjoying the bread and wine.”

Frederick added, “That is right, but I am glad you are back. I was just starting something with Agnes.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

And simultaneously, Agnes said, “Oh.”

Frederick gave Patrick a conspiratorial smile and turned his attention back to Agnes.

“Are your feet flat on the floor? Put your hands on the table, fingers interlaced.”

Frederick glanced down under the table and saw her toes, even with each other, a few inches apart.

“Cross one leg over the other, nice and snug.”

Agnes shifted slightly in her seat, looking at Patrick, and then staring at Frederick, but did not move.

“Cross your legs Agnes.”

“But Frederick,” glancing again at Patrick and at the room around them.

In a deeper, more stern voice Frederick said simply, “Agnes,” and glared at her.

For a couple of long quiet minutes, neither moved nor spoke. Then, reluctantly, she shifted around, and complied.

“Good girl. Now, start rocking your upper foot.”

She sat perfectly still except for the slight torquing of her torso as she rocked her upper leg, flexing at the knee. Her pace was steady, just as Frederick had taught her. She stared down at the place setting in front of her, concentrating.

Frederick snapped his fingers and Agnes looked up, “Look at me Agnes.”

Frederick could see the rocking leg was beginning to have its effect on her, looking at her face; he could see her eyes were beginning to glaze over. She continued on as he instructed. Agnes would let her gaze drift away but each time she did Frederick rapped a knuckle on the table top and she looked back up at him. Soon her breathing was becoming more and more ragged and her whole body was tensing.

Noticing her reactions, Frederick said, “Okay Agnes, slow down now.”

“Please, no, Frederick.”

“Agnes, slow down, come back from the edge.”

She slowed the pace of her rocking leg and took several deep breaths.

“Okay Agnes. I want you to stop for now, we can finish this later.”

Frederick had a slight smile on his face, but Agnes was clearly frustrated and disappointed.

Just then, three servers arrived with two large oval serving trays containing several steaming platters and placed them on collapsible serving stands on the unoccupied side of the table. They were each given a main plate and two side plates off to the right side. One of the waiters refreshed the oil and vinegar on their bread plates, while another picked up old napkins and provided fresh linen.

Patrick turned and smiled at the servers and then to the waiter and said, “Serve the lady a goodly portion from that platter,” pointing to the largest on the serving tray, “and then surprise us all with your best suggestions for our first course.”

He then placed his hand on both Frederick’s and Agnes’s wrists and shook them slightly, “Bon appetite! My friends.”

January 13, 2012

Mirror Mirror - Flash Fiction Friday

(Artist, Helmut Newton, title unknown)
She got up out of the bed, putting the magazines down, driven, aroused and crazed. She pressed herself against the mirror, moving her hips rolling them up and down, rotating her pelvis.

She had always wanted to be inside herself, wondering what it would be like to feel herself. Not receiving but giving, or more accurately, giving and receiving simultaneously. Of course she had felt others, felt her fingers inside them, but it was just someone else.

She wanted her innie to be converted to an outie, something she could put inside herself and feel what it felt like to be inside herself. She was wanting to feel her nipples against her own nipples, feeling her breasts pressed against themselves, feel the arousal of the arousal.

She wanted to be the giver and the taker, feeling the pleasure of giving pleasure herself to herself as she felt receiving it.

She pressed harder and harder; breast to breast, nipple to nipple, mound to mound, the mirror was cracked and failing to give her the push back she needed.

She pounded her hands on the wall, crazed, “Let me inside!”

This challenge is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of 85-188 words, using the phrase: "...cracked and failing..."

December 29, 2011

Building Heat

“Sit up, nice and straight, back against the booth.”

She smiled, shifting.

“Put your feet flat on the floor, fingers interlaced, on the table.”

I glanced down and saw her toes, even with each other, about 12 inches apart.

“Sit very still.”

After a few minutes I said, “Reposition yourself and cross one leg over the other, nice and snug.”

She shifted around, complying.

“Now, start rocking your upper foot.”

I could feel the tip of her toe brushing against my trousers as it moved to and fro. I looked at her face; her eyes were beginning to glaze over.

December 28, 2011








December 22, 2011

The Fire

"The game is called Submission, perhaps you are familiar with it?"

She shook her head, "No."

"I will take this list and make a plan, to guide you through the accomplishment of these goals. Your side of this bargain is to follow my suggestions; sometimes they will be obvious and easy, other times you will not want to do as I instruct, and you will rebel.

"You’ll tell me your objection and we'll discuss it, then you’ll do as I instruct."

"And if I still don't want to do what you tell me to?"

"Then the game can be over."

December 15, 2011

Frying Pan to Fire

We sat staring at each other. Finally I reached down, spun the list around and read it.

“So, you wrote this list, sent it to me, came here, all of your own volition? I guess this means something to you?”

She nodded her head.

“You are a very young girl to have such an extensive list; you must have had very liberal parenting?”

Again she nodded her head.

“Being allowed to do what ever you want lacked the discipline necessary to learn to make good, informed choices?”

She continued nodding her head.

“So, do you want to play a game?”

December 12, 2011

Work, Love, Dance

So, stop waiting until you finish school,
until you go back to school,
until you lose ten pounds,
until you gain ten pounds,
until you have kids,
until your kids leave the house,
until you start work,
until you retire,
until you get married,
until you get divorced,
until Friday night,
until Sunday morning,
until you get a new car or home,
until your car or home is paid off,
until spring, until summer,
until fall, until winter,
until you are off welfare,
until the first or fifteenth,
until your song comes on,
until you've had a drink,
until you've sobered up,
until you die, until you are born again
to decide that there is no better time
than right now to be happy...
Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

So, Work like you don't need money.
Love like you've never been hurt and
Dance like no one's watching.

~Author Unknown~

excerpted from