Showing posts with label Girls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Girls. Show all posts

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)

May 2, 2011

Frederick - Shopping

Continued from here

It was still just early morning but Frederick pulled his boots out of the closet to polish them for the evening. He also checked his pants and shirts to be sure everything was back from the cleaners and fresh. Tonight he would dress up and take Agnes out on the town for dinner and then some entertainment. He collected the boot black and cloths and water. He gathered some old newspapers to spread out to minimize the mess and protect his documents. He set up his work space and his mind began ruminating over his involvement with Agnes over the past couple of months.

While working on the boots he glanced over his journal notes for several of their “dates”. And he did consider them dates. It was an interesting courtship if that is what it was. Most of his relationships had been intense from the very start for an extended period of time, but he felt very much like he was courting Agnes, slow and deliberate, methodical and filled with feints within feints. She was so much younger and unfamiliar with his more mature and formal style. So he always felt he was presenting himself and she needed to be reminded on a regular basis of the structure of their relationship. He knew she was playing coy with him at times and teasing along, two steps forward, one step back, or to the side. He did not think they were deliberate ploys but maybe deflections borne from uncertainty.

He loved the sensuality of rubbing and working boot cream into the deep black leather, making swirls, building up depth and thickness. He worked meticulously, being sure to get the cream up under the various buckles. Once he finished working the cream into the leather he would let it sit so the leather would absorb the moisturizing cream. Later he would buff off the patina and add layers of warm soft wax.


He recalled a couple weeks ago, while walking down the street Agnes had been captivated by the dress and women’s wear shops, stopping and looking in all the windows. She stared in ecstatic wonder at the treasures in the shop windows. ‘Window shopping’ she called it but Frederick felt differently about it. In his mind, if you were going shopping you decided what you were looking for and went to a shop that would offer what you wanted and bought it. He recognized that his more direct approach was considerably different than hers. He was not sure whether it was really their different ages and life experiences, or if it was just a fundamental difference. The results of their shopping trip that afternoon helped to resolve the contradiction in his mind.

Frederick began making note of the particular clothing styles that seemed to catch her interest. When they came to the street corner he grabbed Agnes’s elbow and turned her to the right to cross the street, even though she had just then been turning the corner to go left. She followed along passively looking back over her shoulder, perhaps thinking about what she might have missed rather than really watching where they were going. A few doors down Frederick turned her into the entrance to a particular shop. Agnes turned to him and smiled, “Oh, look at the lovely dresses in these windows. I really do like the looks of these.”

Frederick smiled to himself, happy that he had interpreted her window shopping correctly. “Shall we go in and have a look around?”

“Oh, yes, I would like that. Yes, please.”

They walked past the foyer windows and on into the shop. They were greeted by two young sales girls and one of them addressed Frederick. “Good afternoon Sir. It is very nice to see you again. It has been a long while since you have been in.” They were both beaming, and Frederick could feel the slightest tug on his arm as Agnes recoiled back just a bit.

“Good afternoon ladies, I am happy to see you again. We are on a mission today to find the perfect dress. A dress to be worn to a very special dinner and night on the town; a dress that will show this lovely girl in all of her splendor. This is Agnes and I would appreciate you showing her your best offerings. Make no assumptions and show her a number of choices. Stir her imagination and find something to accentuate her beauty.”

The two girls smiled enthusiastically, came forward and each took hold of one of Agnes’s elbows and led her toward the racks. Agnes cast a questioning glance back at Frederick and he smiled, nodding his head in approval, encouraging her with a gesture to go ahead with the girls and see what they produced. Frederick followed along to the open space near the changing rooms and said, “I will sit here and enjoy the show. When you find a few appropriate dresses, Agnes can go and try them on and let me see how they look on her.”

Frederick found a leather wing backed chair and settled himself down. The three girls had gone off into the racks of clothing and he could just barely hear their titters now and then, punctuated by the occasional giggle or burst of laughter. After a few minutes they emerged from the racks and each of the girls were carrying several dresses and skirt/jacket outfits. Agnes followed along behind and as the girls stood in front of Frederick she stepped up and said, “Which of these do you like?”

“On the hangers they are just colorful pieces of cloth and I can’t decide anything other than perhaps I might favor a color or general cut. I need you to give them shape and life, show me how they take form when you put them on. Take them into the dressing room and try them on. If you like how they feel on you and look in the changing mirror, then come out and show me.”

“Which ones should I take?”

“Take all of them.”

And with that, the girls headed off toward the changing rooms with their collections. Agnes held back and looked at Frederick. Frederick smiled at her and gestured for her to “go, go, go on go” and she reluctantly followed along and disappeared into the dressing room maze. Once again there was the occasional giggle and laughter. Shortly, Agnes came out wearing a very nice floral patterned summer dress and stood in front of Frederick, hands crossed in front of herself, very tentative. Frederick noticed she had no shoes on and said, “Stand on the balls of your feet, as if you had on a pair of heels. Turn around and show off the dress.”

Agnes got up on her toes and took several steps and turned in a small circle, making the skirt of the dress billow and flow out. Quickly she seemed to lighten up and brighten up and fell into the playfulness of a little girl in a pretty new dress. After two circles and a slight spin, she stopped again in front of Frederick and said, “What do you think?”

“It is a very pretty dress but I am sure there are many more to try on and model. Set this one aside on a ‘possible’ hook and pick another for me to see. Later we will trim down the possibles.” Agnes grinned and disappeared back into the dressing room.

In a couple of minutes she came back out wearing another dress, similar to the first but in a bright solid color, not a floral pattern. One of the sales girls came out with her and walked over and stood beside Frederick’s chair. Frederick gestured up with the palm of his hand (up on your toes) and then spun his finger around (spin around and show me), and Agnes moved as instructed. Once again she finished, standing in front of Frederick with the obvious question on her face. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. She nodded her agreement and headed back to the dressing room.

The sales girl knelt down beside Frederick, put her hand on his forearm on the arm of the chair. Leaning in, she whispered, “She is a very pretty girl Sir, with a lovely figure. It is easy to see why you fancy her.”

“Thank you Camille. I agree completely. She is new to Paris and in need of a friend. I am happy to befriend her and help her in any way that I can.”

Camille chuckled as she stood up to head back to the dressing room, “Yes, of course Sir. Your friendship is very generous and appreciated, I am sure.”

She gave him a wry smile and disappeared behind the curtain.

Again there was much laughter and giggling from the changing room area and Frederick began to wonder if they had become derailed from the dressing process. Then finally there was quiet and a couple minutes later Agnes emerged again.

This time she was wearing a blazer and skirt combination. It seemed particularly provocative because she had no blouse on under the buttoned up jacket. The outfit was even more appealing because of the way her calves were accentuated by the tip-toeing and the skirt was mid thigh, with broad pleats. It was a medium charcoal gray that went nicely with the dark blue of the blazer; very classic looking. Agnes did her tip toe, spin around, flare and twirl showoff routine and landed fore-square in front of Frederick again smiling broadly.

He looked the outfit up and down and with a broad smile, nodded his approval. Agnes smiled back and turned and ran back into the changing room and there was the familiar giggling again.

Over the next half hour Agnes came and went several times with a variety of different styles and shapes and colors. Frederick made a mental note of a couple of his favorites and was keeping track of the ones that Agnes said she liked as well.

Finally, Agnes came out in a little black dress that immediately caught Frederick’s attention. It was shaped in a way that highlighted all of the strong features of Agnes’s figure. It had a nice trim waist, slightly flared at the hips, three quarter sleeves and high neck line but with a slit that exposed a good deal of cleavage in a provocative and immodest way. The length was shorter than many of the others, showing not only her lovely calves but the musculature of the backs of her thighs. Frederick was particularly fond of Agnes’s legs, not too thin, muscular and strong without being bulky, ‘swimmers legs’ was the description he had heard that seemed perfect to him. The dress was immediately slotted at the top of his favorites list.

After Agnes modeled the little black dress she stood before him with a sad face and said, “I have run out of selections to show you.”

“Have you found something that appeals to you?”

“Oh, yes, I have, yes.”

“Why don’t you go back and change into your own dress and send Darlene out here. Camille can help you change and gather your things.”

Agnes disappeared and Darlene emerged. “Darlene, please hang everything we have tried on today on a small rack and bring it back out here. Also, discreetly gather her measurements and sizes for lingerie.Thank you.”

Darlene walked over close to Frederick and squatted down in front of him and spoke softly.

“Certainly, Mr. Frederick. It is wonderful to see you again. It has been a long time. I have missed you.”

He reached out and took hold of her hand and pulled her up, “It is good to see you too, Darlene.”

They smiled warmly at each other, she rose and turned and went back to the changing room.

When Agnes came back out she was in her old summer dress and sandals. She was accompanied by Camille. Darlene came out behind them with the rack and placed it in the middle of the floor. Frederick stood up and walked over to Agnes, took her hand and led her over to the rack. “Do you have a favorite among all of these?”

Agnes looked them over, reached out and touched one and said, “Yes, I do, this one.”

“That is a very nice dress, I like that one too.” He pulled the skirt and blazer out a bit and asked, “How about this?”

“Yes, I like that too, but think I prefer this other dress.”

Frederick reached into the rack again and pulled out the little black dress, “And this one?”

Agnes looked confused by his questioning, her smile was gone and she seemed to tense up, “That is nice too, but I really do like this one.” Again, indicating her first choice.

Frederick stepped closer and put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her to his side, “It is okay, I am not trying to change your mind or make you pick something you don’t want.”

He could see her visibly relax again. He pulled her even closer so she was standing side by side against him with his hand on the back of her neck. Frederick turned to the two girls and said, “We will take these three, the two dresses and the blazer outfit.”

Agnes pulled away a bit and said, “I can’t afford these dresses, Frederick. The one dress is within my range, but there is no way I can get all three of these outfits.”

“It is a treat from me Agnes. I brought you into this store and it is what I wanted to do. I also know your birthday is coming up very soon and so this is an early gift for you.”

Agnes threw her arms around his waist and hugged him. “Oh Frederick, thank you so much, but this is too much. These dresses are expensive. I can’t let you do this.”

Frederick smiled down at her and said, “You are very welcome and it is not a matter of you letting me do this or not. It is what I am doing. These will be nice additions to your wardrobe and will inspire me to find opportunities to show you off. I will be challenged to find outings which will befit you and these lovely outfits.”

Agnes hugged him tightly again and said softly, “Thank you so much Frederick. You are so good to me. I am a lucky girl, thank you.”

Frederick gestured to Camille to pull out and package up the three selections. He untangled himself from Agnes and said, “Agnes, go with Darlene, I think there are a couple more things that you will need to compliment these dresses. She knows what is needed and will help you.”


Frederick smiled at the recollection. it had been a fun afternoon; a great outing. He picked up one of his boots and pushed the shoe stretcher down into the toe, locked it in place and did the same with the other boot. With the leather stretched and formed he started vigorously brushing off the patina of the cream in preparation for applying the wax.

When he finished buffing the boots he picked up the bottles and cans and papers and tidied his desk. He set the boots in the sun to warm them in preparation for applying the wax. Looking at the time, he walked over and picked up the phone and called to make reservations for the evening.

Agnes reflects on the shopping trip

January 28, 2011

Boudoir - Friday Flash Fiction

(Photo source unknown)
Surprise
He called home to see if she’d arrived. “I got here a few minutes ago. I’ve decanted the bottle of Malbec you had me pick up. Now I’m sorting the mail.”

“Go to the bedroom, get undressed. I'll be arriving in five minutes.”

“Oh, Yes Sir!”

When he walked in he noticed the scattered stacks of mail. He laughed, evidence of her zeal to comply, what a good girl.

Anxious to savor her beauty, he hurried down the hallway, opening the bedroom door. She was kneeling on the bed in just her panties, bra tossed aside, with the sheet held protectively over her breasts. Her child-like modesty was so charming.

He smiled at her, then turned and opened the closet door, “Look who I’ve invited for your birthday.”



Click for details on FFF
(Your challenge for this Friday is to use the photo above to write a flash fiction of
93-129 words, incorporating, the required phrase, "...held protectively...")

October 3, 2010

"Far Far" - There's This Little Girl Inside


If for some reason it does not play correctly - it can be played at YouTube

Far far, there's this little girl
she was praying for something to happen to her
everyday she writes words and more words
just to spit out the thoughts that keep floating inside
and she's strong when the dreams come cos' they
take her, cover her, they are all over
the reality looks far now, but don't go

How can you stay outside?
there's a beautiful mess inside
how can you stay outside?
there's a beautiful mess inside
oh oh oh oh

Far far, there's this little girl
she was praying for something good to happen to her
from time to time there are colors and shapes
dazzling her eyes, tickling her hands
they invent her a new world with
oil skies and aquarelle rivers
but don't you run away already
please don't go oh oh

How can you stay outside?
there's a beautiful mess inside
how can you stay outside?
there's a beautiful mess inside
Take a deep breath and dive
there's a beautiful mess inside
how can you stay outside?
There's a beautiful mess
beautiful mess inside

Oh beautiful, beautiful

Far far there's this little girl
she was praying for something big to happen to her
every night she hears beautiful strange music
it's everywhere there's nowhere to hide
but if it fades she begs
"oh lord don't take it from me, don't take it" she says

I guess I'll have to give it birth
to give it birth
I guess, I guess I have to give it birth
I guess I have to, have to give it birth
there's a beautiful mess inside and it's everywhere

so shake it yourself now deep inside
deeper than you ever dared
deeper than you ever dared
there's a beautiful mess inside
beautiful mess inside


"Far Far" by Yael Naim

June 21, 2009

grand Father's Day

It was a Father's Day, 13 or 14 years ago, and most of the family and friends had come by, with a barbecue planned for later in the day. I remember I was sitting on the couch, watching TV, some kind of auto race. Tracy's husband was sitting with me, he was an auto racing fan also. Krista, Tracy's daughter, and her cousin Leslie were running around and playing, like 5 or 6 year old kids would do. Krista was always rambunctious and energetic, often seen as hard to handle, willfulness was a term used often. However, she was always calm and attentive when she would hang out with me, always helpful and cooperative.

On that particular day, from time to time, Tracy would come out of the kitchen and tell Krista, "Be quiet." "Settle down." "Go play in the family room.", and other various attempts at trying to create calm and quiet. Finally, after too long, with little or no result, I called Krista over to me, and said, "Krista, you and Leslie go back and play in the family room unless you want to sit down here and be quiet." Her response was simply, "Okay. Leslie, let's go."

As she was walking out of the room, her mother stopped her and asked, "Why is it that when I ask you to do something, you argue, or ignore me, and go right back to doing what you were doing, as if I hadn't even said anything? But when Grandpa asks you to do something, you just go do it?" Krista looked at me, smiled, and then back at her mother, and answered, "Because when poo-paw says it, he means it." Then, she and Leslie took off down the hall toward the family room.

It had nothing to do with punishment or consequences; it was always about intention, and consistency, and purpose. Her connection to me was very different from others in the family.

May 10, 2009

Mother's Day - 2009


For all of you out there, who day in and day out, offer the love, and care, and affection only a mother can to her children; please know, there are little boys in all of us, of all ages, that can never do or say enough to share back the love, and affection, and care you have, and do, provide to us.

Bless you all.

On this Mother's Day, I am reminded of a post that gave me a new insight on mothers. It is not specifically about Mother's Day, but it struck me in a profound way. I think it is a wonderful statement about what mothers mean to daughters, and their children in general.

Since I first read this, it has become increasingly meaningful to me.

She used to say, when she was quite little, that she and I were the same person. “I am you, mama,” she would say, tiny hands on my cheeks. When she was a little older she began to self-correct that statement: “well, I am – I am like you, mama.”

Now she laughs a bit, “Remember when I used to think I was you?” and she shrugs, as if embarrassed. “Of course, I know we’re not the same person, mama.”


Happy Mother's Day
2009

February 14, 2009

Happy Valentine's Day

I remember when I was a boy, in elementary school, on Valentine's Day, the teacher would hand out cards to everyone, perhaps one or two each. They had simple little colorful drawings on them, of boys and girls, and hearts and cupid, et al. They were plain light card stock, not even fold over cards, and little small envelopes, barely 2 or 3 inches square. With nervous laughter and tittering, we would look around conspiratorially, and write Susie or Sally on the little envelope, and put our name at the bottom of the card. Then she would collect the envelopes from everyone in a big basket. Later she would spread them all on her desk up in front of the room, and call recess, and we would all gather and look for our names.

We would collect our little love messages, go out and read them, and smile, and peek, and look around, and perhaps even be so bold as to approach our secret admirers and say those magical words:

Will you be my valentine?

It was all so simple and sweet.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

April 24, 2008

Looking for a Daddy

I was "interviewed" the other day, excerpts follow:

Hello, I am Joy, age 23 and I love tall men, may I ask your name please?My name is David, joy, how are you?
I am well thank you David, may I ask your age? Are you interested in daddy/daughter relationships?
I am 61, and yes, I might be.
Great so am I. So tell me what you are seeking?Not seeking anything specifically, but it would be a girl who needs the attention, discipline and guidance of an adult male in her life, one who understands the importance of compliance, willingness and discipline.
Perfect, I feel I need someone who will watch over me, keep me in line, and make me accountable for myself and my actions. I’d want him to give me rules, chores and a curfew and enforce them.
Very good joy, it is what a young girl often needs in her life.
It is what I need for sure.Do you live with your family still?
No, my mom was a teen mom who never grew up and I never knew my dad.
What about your husband, or boy friend?
I am not married, and I broke up with my boyfriend about a month ago, because he was cheating on me. Do you work? Or are you retired?I work, semi retired technical systems support for casino management services, I am a former data processing manager. And what about you joy?
I am a cashier at two different jobs one full time, one part time.
Then you are a busy girl, which is good, obviously you are responsible. So, you want more discipline and structure in your life. Did you have discipline and now it is gone, or you are discovering this need now?
No. I never had it.You sound like a girl who would benefit from the attention and structure, I would get to know more about you, have you tell me that long story, learn your habits, routine, special needs and would set up rules for you, daily structure.
How would I be disciplined? I think I would need reinforcing discipline on a regular basis.Through loss of privileges, special tasks, special behaviors, spankings, physical discipline, etc. My age does not concern you?
Not at all, I want a father figure you’d be perfect.
Okay, you are a young girl and I want to me sure. If I were to take control of you it would entail all facets of your life, you understand that? What and how you eat, generally, schedules, chores, manner of dress, dating, how you spend your time, not micromanaged but structured.
No problem.
To start with I want you to write me sort of an essay, take me through your week, day by day, and tell me what you do, what you do you want to stop and generally give me a picture of your life/routine. Now, if you work at noon, you need to get ready.
Ok, take care great chatting with you Daddy! May I call you that?
Yes.

Being online frequently, I have a fair number of conversations with a posers, players, role players, cyber prowlers and general goofballs. Most conversations last maybe 15 minutes, which seems to be their attention span. But I am surprised by the number of young women, like this one, seemingly serious, who are seeking and craving "adult supervision" and dominance.

March 25, 2008

girl/girl

A great many girls had some of their earliest sexual experiences at slumber parties and other all-girl gatherings, playing games such as Truth or Dare, or some variation of these adolescent sensual socialization games. I suspect that a lot of girls first discover their sense of submissiveness (or domme-ness) through these kissing and party games that girls play late into the night.

I have read about girls who recall themselves in those games, "always wanting to be the girl/bottom" or "how embarrassed I was having all the other girls watching me" or "they made me rub between my legs until I felt like I needed to pee", many other expressions of how they felt being exposed, or involved, or placed in an embarrassing or aroused situation. I don't think these early teen or even preteen experiences necessarily lead to, or foster, either lesbian or bisexual orientations in girls, but I think there are many, many girls who get their first taste of their submissive nature during one of these slumber party games, or afternoon parties. Their first taste of sensuality comes at the hand of their friends who are equally naive, or are more brave/brazen (domme?), and they learn how it feels to do someone else's bidding, to perform in a way that pleases someone else.

Many girls have their first experiences of masturbation, or mutual masturbation or even girl on girl sexual activity "forced on them" in one of these group activities. These games go by many names:

Truth or Dare
Truth, Dare or Torture (Australian); with torture being simply for more embarrassing dares.
Lies or Play it Safe
Truth Dare, Double Dare, Promise or Repeat
Truth, Dare, Situation, Stare (India)
Tell or Torture

For the submissive girls, they were strangely attracted to these new and forbidden/taboo sensations, they felt the attraction of the entire thing, the involvement of other girls, they liked being watched, watching, they were so excited about the whole thing, often privately, because they were too embarrassed or shy to make any overt moves. They are left to wonder, how do I fulfill these feelings.

March 17, 2008

Daddy/little girl

In many discussions of the Daddy/little girl relationship, it is surprising how often some people have the idea tied to infantilization, or a perverse interest in underage girls. It is not viewed that way by those involved, but by others.

I have heard it said,
"At the extreme, the subs wear or are dressed in diapers and may use them, suck pacifiers and thumbs, play with dolls. They are bathed and tucked in. In less extreme cases, there is still an implied infantilization."
"They are sexually aroused by intimate contact with a little girl or possibly even with a daughter."
"The other motivation I imagine is that some daddy doms are relatively weak - and I don't mean that pejoratively. They have a dominant streak, but the only context in which they can safely express it is with a sub infantalized."

It has been my experience, both personally and by observation of others, that most Daddy and little girl relationships are not so different from other D/s relationships. He ties her up, he spanks her, she serves him, she gets release if he gives permission, and so on. Maybe the Daddy is older than his little girl, maybe quite a bit older. Maybe the Dom is more experienced or more mature or somehow has more authority or confidence; and the submissive defers to him. Often the overriding desires of the little girl are to be nurtured, and cared for and controlled, taught, and protected, perhaps different than the desires of other submissives and slaves who crave use and service.

But perhaps when he is Daddy it's more than just deference. It's more like he has a kind of infallibility. His authority is unchallengeable. It's not the same as the sheer power with which the slave-master asserts his will. The Daddy has a special aura of authority, in the face of which she becomes small, loses her grown-up faculties of self-determination and free will. In exchange she finds total security. I think in some cases, she is revisiting a relationship with an early authority figure in her life, perhaps one that never was completed or consummated.

It is a sense of "he knows what is best" for his little girl and she, knowing he has her best interests at heart, will obey her Daddy and feel comfortable and secure in "knowing" his love for her and the fact that she can please him by doing his bidding. It all sounds pretty much the same as most any submissive with her Dominant. I am not sure what the definitive difference is, often the more it is discussed, the more it sounds the same.

February 29, 2008

Becca on D/s

Becca is a young college girl who started a conversation with me about an early experience she had with an older man who touched her and gotten very familiar with her. Over time and discussions, it turned out that she had not been molested as she said, it has been a rouse to start a conversation. As we talked over time she asked about my screen name, DSinVegas. I told her that it was a reference to Dominance and submission. I asked her to write me a little essay about what Dominance and submission meant to her.

Dominance and submission were only words to me prior to meeting my on-line friend David. Although now that I have a limited sense of what they mean, I recognize that I have had those types of thoughts for some time.

My thoughts in the past have often involved a submissive aspect I suppose. I remember, so many years ago, when I first began to masturbate, about age 12, even then that I would put myself in imaginary situations. Ones over which I had no control. Ones in which I imagined being told to take off my clothes by some make-believe bad man. A man who wanted to see what I looked like. I imagined having to completely undress. Which I knew even at that age was a naughty thing. In bed in my darkened room I imagined the embarrassment of having to do so. It was make believe so I was really not scared, but imagined being scared. Like a kidnapped girl would be, totally helpless. Required to do as he said or I might never be let go. Yet there was a very excited feeling that came over me as I imagined undressing in front of him. Watching as he looked at my developing body. As I did so, I would rub and touch myself. Further imagining the man was watching me play. Ordering me not to stop touching. I thought of the embarrassment of being in that situation. The fear a girl my age would feel. But yet the excitement of this imaginary situation caused me to have my first orgasms.

My recent visit to Lover's Lane (an adult toy store), and seeing the ankle and wrist bands, realizing how they're intended to be used, only fed fuel to the fire in my imagination. I was further able to imagine the embarrassment and helplessness one would feel being naked and tied down. Not able to cover up. Not able to even close one's legs together to hide one's most private parts. Last night I imagined my self being submissive, tied naked to a table, legs and arms pulled tight in four different directions. Embarrassed to be in that situation, yet excited at the thought.

February 17, 2008

Deviance - C M N F

A frequent theme on submissive blogs is objectification and exhibitionism, two somewhat related activities. An interesting manifestation of this is CMNF (Clothed Male, Naked Female), involving one or more females in the presence of several or many clothed men.
(There is a corresponding CFNM. Some quick Googling actually produces more “mainstream” examples of CFNM).

For quite a while I was a regular visitor to a website that offered a free and open exchange of photos and videos of this kind of activity. That site became a pay site about a year ago and recent attempts to access the front page now return a blank Index page. Clearly many of the pictures were posed, but some were genuine examples and it was obvious that there was considerable embarrassment, humiliation and shame, as well as arousal and eroticism for the girls involved. This kind of activity is much too “out there” for most of America, and virtually all of the examples I have seen appear to be in England, France or Scandinavian countries. I wouldn’t be surprised to find this kind of activity going on at college campuses, fraternities and so on, but not much elsewhere, certainly not as openly as it seems to be in Europe.

I have participated in small examples of this, such as Super Bowl parties with lifestyle friends where one or more submissives acted as servers to the assembled party guests. I have also attended dinner parties where wife of the host was naked, and acting quite normally but obviously compelled by her Master.

I always love the way Wikipedia describes perversions; so, CMNF is a term for a paraphilia (look that one up sometime) involving one or more nude women and one or more clothed men. It is generally used as a label for pictorial erotica or pornography, or a sexual fantasy depicting such a scenario; however, CMNF gatherings of men and women interested in this type of erotic pursuit do occur as well. CMNF is also a type of sexual objectification of women by men.
The general category of "CMNF" is fairly broad, encompassing several different types of scenario. The most common subdivisions of the genre involve either an activity under the rubric of male domination, exhibitionism or entertainment; combination of all categories is somewhat rare, although several web sites cater to the subgenres separately. See also Erotic humiliation.

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December 15, 2007

Discovering submissiveness

I came across Marie in a chat room. As we talked she told me she recently had a sexual encounter with a man that troubled her; partially because it was uninvited but much more so because of how she reacted and how she felt, both at the time and her desires ever since. She went on to explain.

About 4 months before, she had been camping with family friends, and had gotten up to go to pee just before getting into her sleeping bag for the night. It was a public campground and so had permanent, plumbed bathrooms. When she came out of the stall, there was a man there. He told her to go stand facing the wall and to put her hands against the wall. He then proceeded to reach up under her t-shirt and fondled her breasts and nipples while he took himself out and slowly stroked. She looked over to see what he was doing and he told her to keep looking straight ahead at the wall. After some time, he moved his hand down across her tummy and then slid it into the waist band of her shorts, and inside her panties and proceeded to finger her. She said she was embarrassed by how wet she got, standing there with a stranger's hand in her panties, not moving in any way to object, breathing heavier and heavier.

He then told her to get down on her knees and lean forward over the end of the bench. He knelt down behind her, and pulled down short/panties, and remarked repeatedly how wet she was, as he entered her from behind. After a while he came in her, got up and left. As he was leaving he told her to stay there over the bench until he was gone. After he left she reached down and fingered herself to an orgasm, still there bending over the bench. She then cleaned her self up, got her clothes all back in place, and went back and got into her sleeping bag, and went to sleep.

During that entire time no one came in, she never thought to cry out, she never protested, and said the main thought in her mind was that she hoped no one would come in and see what she was letting him do. A complete stranger, an older man, having his way with her in a campground bathroom, in the middle of the night; fondling her breasts and nipples, fingering her, taking her from behind.


That first chat room "meeting" with Marie was just over two years ago, and we have continued to talk regularly ever since. We have spent a lot of time discussing that rape, and how it led to or fostered her feelings of submissiveness, or if there was really any connection between the two at all. Sometimes we talk a couple times a day, and there are times when we do not talk for weeks. But, I am always there for her, and she always seeks my counsel about changes in her life.

She was very confused by her behavior during that whole event, and by her feelings toward men afterwards. She had noticed men who looked at her "that way", dominant men who recognize that look about her, the way she responds to their gaze, transfixed. These are not just horny men looking at a pretty girl; it is like they know what kind of girl she is. She had noticed them some before that camping trip, and was noticing them much more now, in the few months after. She has come to recognize and enjoy her submissive nature, but still is conflicted at times because that slut in her is so vastly different from how she acts in her day to day life.

Does the recognition of submissiveness come from early stirrings, or meeting a dominant man and a relationship is formed that is mutually agreeable, or someone courts you and draws you out? Or, does submission sometimes flash upon you in the face out of some kind of adversity? How did you come to recognize your submissive nature?