tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373676622024-02-22T09:11:05.865-05:00Prurient Interestsmy needs, my fantasies, my desiresUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1151125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-50724923106665167612024-02-09T18:55:00.008-05:002024-02-09T18:55:58.262-05:00Photo Dump<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiLN8ePuv5lf9a0eUCKMM7L3oP-pV60RMEcLEYfmrrXcyjdaQaD7O4vjEP7A8SKYi-V6PXscmqxEK0dnx3MIxjKaGY7vbmu-KMUc1l4WS-FWryRPVaQH8LCeRoUc6JT_JBTWIjtuZIvcD5f-JXEafliUFd-aGC_oD_kiZVfLnRQTUpgzovM5l/s2241/wdco5chwd5e91.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1494" data-original-width="2241" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiLN8ePuv5lf9a0eUCKMM7L3oP-pV60RMEcLEYfmrrXcyjdaQaD7O4vjEP7A8SKYi-V6PXscmqxEK0dnx3MIxjKaGY7vbmu-KMUc1l4WS-FWryRPVaQH8LCeRoUc6JT_JBTWIjtuZIvcD5f-JXEafliUFd-aGC_oD_kiZVfLnRQTUpgzovM5l/w640-h426/wdco5chwd5e91.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizh_jIJJnEE_twqLC9ZTraBzEZkz79A0p-KKbgwvbD0JYwb1fj39_RR8ORn8nVlamrsStB4HAdg3FCjoauPUb1f69ADz01sRZ7NB_aua0FfJKMMVS8v_Cmch_cwMieClH-MXH8KvN3D5NaxFkJydn5TemB7ADQCE3_q7VGPwVdvNkLESCljAlY/s3000/6kmsbrexpbkb1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizh_jIJJnEE_twqLC9ZTraBzEZkz79A0p-KKbgwvbD0JYwb1fj39_RR8ORn8nVlamrsStB4HAdg3FCjoauPUb1f69ADz01sRZ7NB_aua0FfJKMMVS8v_Cmch_cwMieClH-MXH8KvN3D5NaxFkJydn5TemB7ADQCE3_q7VGPwVdvNkLESCljAlY/w426-h640/6kmsbrexpbkb1.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-50527398727678183492023-08-21T19:43:00.002-04:002023-08-21T19:50:53.252-04:00In His Arms<p>He holds me in his arms. He's only a few inches taller than me but I always feel so small when I'm with him. It helps that he treats me that way, too. </p><p>I stroke the fur on his chest. It's thick and wiry, dark and dappled with grey. </p><p>I can feel the heat growing between us. I whisper, "Master, may I touch you?" I have to ask, otherwise, I'd never stop. His cock fascinates me. </p><p>He nods and I feel it against the top of my head. </p><p>I trail my fingers down his chest, over his hard stomach to the heat between his legs. </p><p>He's half hard and getting harder by the second. </p><p>I wrap my fingers around his cock and thank him. </p><p>These are the moments I enjoy most; I feel so small and weak when he holds me and so turned on by his masculinity. I am so turned on, feeling the girth of his cock in my hand. Feeling how he reacts when I start to stroke him. </p><p>My hips start to pump on their own accord. My own cock is hard as well, though what I have between my legs is a pale imitation of his manhood. My Master is a real man while I'm something else. He has lots of names for what I am, and each time he utters them my spirit soars because I feel truly seen. </p><p>Sissy, cocksucker, faggot, beta, fucktoy, bitch, cunt. Each word is like a bolt of electricity through me and I know that because I've been able to compare that feeling to real bolts of electricity when Master hooks electrodes up to my balls. </p><p>Master lifts a hand from the small of my back to my shoulder and applies the slightest pressure. This is my signal. I slide down his body until I'm face to face with his magnificent cock. I begin to kiss and lick it. In the dark of the room I can't make out every vein like I like to but I have my favorite spots that I know intimately. </p><p>Master doesn't want me to lavish his cock with kisses tonight. I feel him push into me and I open my mouth to take him inside me. He goes deep quickly, tickling the back of my throat. He is insistent and I am a greedy slut. I begin bobbing my head up and down on his shaft while my hands wrap around the base of his manhood, cradling his balls in my eager hands. </p><p>He begins pumping his hips and I meet his thrusts with my vigorous mouth. </p><p>Feed me, Master. Pump your seed down my throat. This is my need. This is my purpose. I am here to make this man feel good no matter what the cost. I have given myself over to him and he knows it. He knows that I am powerless around him. He knows that he owns every inch of my body and can do whatever he desires with me or to me. </p><p>I wonder if he will cum in my mouth or if he'll choose to use me in another way. Frankly, I don't care. I ache to be his in whatever manner he sees fit. I am in ecstasy and he knows it. I'm making my Master happy and that's what I live for. But, oh, to feel him cum in my mouth... to feel his cock get even bigger and to feel those balls tighten under my fingers. </p><p>I lick, I suck, I take as much of his massive cock in my mouth as I can and he helps by pushing far into my throat. I moan around his cock and I hump the air with my little dicklet. </p><p>He grabs the top of my head to stop me. This is the worst part. No matter what happens next, I'm pouting right now because I don't have him inside me. </p><p>He rolls over in the bed and I know what I have to do next. </p><p>I spread his cheeks with my hands and find his delicious asshole with my tongue. When we first met, I describe this as being a "hard limit" but he knew what's best for me. The first time I tongue-fucked Master's asshole, I had been helpless to resist. I had been tied down and he lowered himself on to me, not allowing me to breathe until I serviced him in the way he saw fit. </p><p>Now this is one of the things I love to do most for my Master. </p><p>I slither my tongue as far as it will go and push to add even an extra millimeter as I go inside his tight hole. I lick and suck, my saliva making a mess of things. I moan into the depths of Master's ass and feel him stroking himself while I serve him. Sometimes I wish there was another sissy in the bed with us so I could lick his ass while the other sucked his cock. </p><p>Master could tie us up together and keep us in the same cage. I wonder if he'd make me suck the other sissy or if he'd make me fuck her. Would we both be objects of his amusement? Would he play favorites? I don't want another sissy in the house if it means I won't be Master's favorite. </p><p>I already suffer some when Master takes me to his special parties and I see him playing with other submissives. But it's my leash that he's holding at the end of every party. These are some of the thoughts that go through my head as I service his ass. </p><p>There was a time in my life where I never would have dreamed that I'd be serving another man, much less licking his ass so vigorously. But here I am. Master knows what I need and he give it to me. </p><p>"Lay on your back," he commands and I do as he says. </p><p>He positions himself between my legs and I hope that he'll have me lift them so he will take me. But, he doesn't. Instead, he strokes his impressive cock until he cums all over mine. I feel the heat from his spunk as it lands on my flesh. </p><p>He has me stay where I am while he comes up on the bed and positions himself next to me. He tells me that I may jerk off while I suck on his slowly deflating cock. His spunk is my lubricant as I jerk my little pathetic member. My hands are slick with his juices and I can taste it drooling from the source. </p><p>"Good girl," he purrs and this is enough to send me over the edge. My own load is just a tiny addition to all of the spunk that has collected on my stomach. I continue to suckle until he tells me to go get cleaned up. While I hate to leave him, I know that we will cuddle once again when I return. And perhaps we'll do this all again soon. </p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-90787348192002587612023-08-06T18:37:00.000-04:002023-08-06T18:37:00.144-04:00Fiona<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPENKgqKAYWK0bqPF30oQLzT-g6Vv2a2so6gGkXfi_AhgcVk65O5SLhEVhrYpLLKbrYif97A4ueV-ZsYQ3BQUhTFo9VedUzGGTHiBQm5wtWUajZg3FxJ-ZyUPFNNMMOddfO2QSiA9BmA_3RkL6gf9AN1aHHNZvtehGGP3FcxpumfJ6DifNA/s1500/wvxoosfjosza1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPENKgqKAYWK0bqPF30oQLzT-g6Vv2a2so6gGkXfi_AhgcVk65O5SLhEVhrYpLLKbrYif97A4ueV-ZsYQ3BQUhTFo9VedUzGGTHiBQm5wtWUajZg3FxJ-ZyUPFNNMMOddfO2QSiA9BmA_3RkL6gf9AN1aHHNZvtehGGP3FcxpumfJ6DifNA/w426-h640/wvxoosfjosza1.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-79011986548785791452023-07-30T11:49:00.001-04:002023-07-30T11:49:00.154-04:00Velma & Daphne<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTFrSjotq4s8HKRZl--YftAbwkIbl8ZleG7dftQHemL0SpeNzW7MkpfZXf62BgseBIir2R7qfoldpDF3tWDJAuOspdFaw4efxaSgV-DTSEli8p4Wj8QR2A_dDei-zLCNAUi-b1b5fqxc-v_MqPzyVm0_QokNcS0Ia8oTerolOBlEIH9rnMQ/s1174/e1s9p7nkof471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1174" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTFrSjotq4s8HKRZl--YftAbwkIbl8ZleG7dftQHemL0SpeNzW7MkpfZXf62BgseBIir2R7qfoldpDF3tWDJAuOspdFaw4efxaSgV-DTSEli8p4Wj8QR2A_dDei-zLCNAUi-b1b5fqxc-v_MqPzyVm0_QokNcS0Ia8oTerolOBlEIH9rnMQ/w589-h640/e1s9p7nkof471.jpg" width="589" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-72953748203588272562023-07-23T11:45:00.001-04:002023-07-23T11:45:00.135-04:00Having Fun<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrR4rQT57AQF_7uf87mAy3jBv2-X4K22diZAnR85j9SP7pA1y81ld6f14fwdoC2_OFTXB1zKkbUMAGlI-8HQ-uVTYGe5wbViSxa5Z7_bFrDtR2Hy-nRp5TWH9hhiZ2dNIWVMZ8zB7betF6MvvbzRc-CfZJbSBPLXgIa0bcVElsHqsBxBCYFg/s1350/ba7jminoyix81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrR4rQT57AQF_7uf87mAy3jBv2-X4K22diZAnR85j9SP7pA1y81ld6f14fwdoC2_OFTXB1zKkbUMAGlI-8HQ-uVTYGe5wbViSxa5Z7_bFrDtR2Hy-nRp5TWH9hhiZ2dNIWVMZ8zB7betF6MvvbzRc-CfZJbSBPLXgIa0bcVElsHqsBxBCYFg/w512-h640/ba7jminoyix81.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2OeWa8W5HWf_ZJ9k325QRjfQ3vgC3k_1fbm3Y6-e_U2pnhwmFDEn-0pWHvBoHTK5ByzTuk85u6mpFzCRTXZYfE7OaN9YWVx4VyM7BwkEaP_UaEFzbnR8amIU03LMlvevE5xjoOslZ-zmJoEBRh5nbDxUjhryp5efMjXQLmN86RjXW4mYHQ/s615/daily-wtf-014-11132014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="583" data-original-width="615" height="606" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2OeWa8W5HWf_ZJ9k325QRjfQ3vgC3k_1fbm3Y6-e_U2pnhwmFDEn-0pWHvBoHTK5ByzTuk85u6mpFzCRTXZYfE7OaN9YWVx4VyM7BwkEaP_UaEFzbnR8amIU03LMlvevE5xjoOslZ-zmJoEBRh5nbDxUjhryp5efMjXQLmN86RjXW4mYHQ/w640-h606/daily-wtf-014-11132014.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-82152073405985307742023-07-16T11:43:00.001-04:002023-07-16T11:43:00.145-04:00Sherilynn Fenn<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dGzlJZ7wLOXHTQLDgQsRnCYDqueXAZahjvriWdtHdPBwRJKBYgyfVtiwb4TcbusQSozYX5t6as2h-EYyGdTZLXVGPu8KRyuHtyto5-8sTcF8Kh7rIbZcaaI4MPgZ4kbZqiDrWFP5LzMODp-aZcixMqiW3uygrHoUX8yR2lSIdRQHrVWiOA/s1200/1rp63z5yy3b91.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBTrpPOYkzL2fC2C4cPe6qurf752-PUUWoF11ipR_s0Qa1P9Gc1u39vr2mUN0Nuqt6vcumLHhRdLyPsOxXYvHodQW3h7UwmntOdHTT35zrd9pbVg4SoGx295Abzzwf-y8I4DNemn1JSANtb8ojhZutZF_NfHS6y2xrcO87ynA_OL7tOw2Idg/s1920/wlede6wjvmn91.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1920" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBTrpPOYkzL2fC2C4cPe6qurf752-PUUWoF11ipR_s0Qa1P9Gc1u39vr2mUN0Nuqt6vcumLHhRdLyPsOxXYvHodQW3h7UwmntOdHTT35zrd9pbVg4SoGx295Abzzwf-y8I4DNemn1JSANtb8ojhZutZF_NfHS6y2xrcO87ynA_OL7tOw2Idg/w640-h400/wlede6wjvmn91.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-90357677803249460342023-07-02T11:40:00.001-04:002023-07-02T11:40:00.147-04:00Carla<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9RNA24OzA1xJ8beJHR5s6KaEPvB7Ne8AdZj45cG3sCkJA0foNgWgpvVqLZoxIGVUk0YrT5-JtIhckalKcHdxphY7dBExvCoCr6P61Rdv9ye-reT4Lju_lc7Swh9XgIUN5isCRG9SX5qQdKXoFN_C5r50aRzHX3lAKC3311fXImazHYlNKgg/s1351/nsdmy4v6bw0a1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1351" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9RNA24OzA1xJ8beJHR5s6KaEPvB7Ne8AdZj45cG3sCkJA0foNgWgpvVqLZoxIGVUk0YrT5-JtIhckalKcHdxphY7dBExvCoCr6P61Rdv9ye-reT4Lju_lc7Swh9XgIUN5isCRG9SX5qQdKXoFN_C5r50aRzHX3lAKC3311fXImazHYlNKgg/w512-h640/nsdmy4v6bw0a1.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-41087933803950195072023-06-25T11:39:00.001-04:002023-06-25T11:39:00.133-04:00Siouxsie<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRFnGyMvZ38JhvUQDeOBeOUWMtyw_FH1xrbK5jeSGa9nEifLA0eDhaT_NTZ5enfZqFY93sBzE9nxcEptxczAxC4Ak6xlSqmmabtOyPNE6bfWJeO1xaq9udfUlzEDIsf40OT_89LhIa9tmhnbeVR8lpWg_yVAqa5lHvOCn5ETTE9xq1mcv3Q/s1242/316216317_3009218569382477_208920626670363386_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1223" data-original-width="1242" height="630" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRFnGyMvZ38JhvUQDeOBeOUWMtyw_FH1xrbK5jeSGa9nEifLA0eDhaT_NTZ5enfZqFY93sBzE9nxcEptxczAxC4Ak6xlSqmmabtOyPNE6bfWJeO1xaq9udfUlzEDIsf40OT_89LhIa9tmhnbeVR8lpWg_yVAqa5lHvOCn5ETTE9xq1mcv3Q/w640-h630/316216317_3009218569382477_208920626670363386_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWTrBFfvDSR1Gke8iila1b1CghqK5Ee4t7KkvWfcuQZulLwGY-B8PeThcxHIGV4vSxNSzeZoFYz-HY7r76PoEiq6o9yoA3XyfOpwowdvx-oHgwDbExekp_KGAPiCVdNbSUj51ZcBmO8Eni21zl51FRC1KqmpdQZKW1MpxTCstUob4LjrkKtA/s960/316273987_3008711449433189_5026768357979575299_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="960" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWTrBFfvDSR1Gke8iila1b1CghqK5Ee4t7KkvWfcuQZulLwGY-B8PeThcxHIGV4vSxNSzeZoFYz-HY7r76PoEiq6o9yoA3XyfOpwowdvx-oHgwDbExekp_KGAPiCVdNbSUj51ZcBmO8Eni21zl51FRC1KqmpdQZKW1MpxTCstUob4LjrkKtA/w640-h476/316273987_3008711449433189_5026768357979575299_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-42577324996276046522023-06-18T11:38:00.001-04:002023-06-18T11:38:00.137-04:00Nigella<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhXiL0RfDV475_VeBxRqyKmSQ4woP4VSFWEeGgP1VLwfY08CyBTrJoyIH46Of3C9iH1DXpAJqwsdhiciv1CD7IBoD0FCmlERvG5pw5ctFa4BOBnZVjC7UGTqYcnC5mSIgXbame33mEtmiAc8Juy-_G5d2eN-5ZDCJ4TjVgi6c1UgMvTMKNg/s1200/o4ezxj3i76x61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1095" data-original-width="730" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhxpYW1IZH1tiEwvMs-0vAFqUpufkIqm_SuZIJG8TzMmmBB-ujJnApFNb6Vv5XG7YBteea3-347xMm7NRDYV7NoQ6t2LE4ur13T0ghsscbEDqz0XWwwWa7pAi8p4wrIiifU0QuwGD9oEb4h-ywUs22GAOYOM2Zh99co-n4W4u7SY2RTjG2Dw/w426-h640/back_view_ivy_by_nishi_gantzer_deifl22-pre.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-36862081770984975272023-06-04T11:35:00.001-04:002023-06-04T11:35:00.139-04:00Joan Blondell<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIy68yxgBSFTQCLwO2wVtBeJh9d-ZV0Uhpebhe86wcmZiI9ideCT27GtsOlA-e1ZbWTHQidZzamRd1yrV3m4VbrgfNsN4IAppHrw9hznujG9hxHPtJyfLQzOSTGaGAgMo8iuOq6jACvT3hVZceEjLtOxCAjcsU0Gt3oxcSUnsgUoQEr-JiZg/s1280/icleqf1zd2w71.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkwfnDLsI2UIWlPghw4-1PMIWDonNWSyOdR_MpZDrH7Bm7kuhGOT8fkRMqybyep-btrCX9yDUayTTJxRAzACMDrxKLoa_e3OlZsCWKOP8BW2DogbwbGZ8otPZDUjq-U0ZB29u0JUD0A9n6MmuCsS6_789otGaBpw7K-kTPQiZh61hIWGNGg/w512-h640/fan-bing-bing.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-60877211831202936462023-05-14T11:32:00.001-04:002023-05-14T11:32:00.140-04:00Gemma<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2V29Wy2C8h2dtDkOR-neHgaakSQhnf0ar4HhbpTeq7P4seTaNDll5WgCYr_pR9UNyJNfXMph3Uo4GWNVN3XVr0Ce9FsyPCkYA9X2DyXaTB2V3BmuOfhhX1o-2-cJg0oHAzE7XMi30cKl1Felch8CFQapnJbQ0cNuRQDN1majFuTMdTSAXFA/s798/2svg29i4rrla1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="798" data-original-width="527" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2V29Wy2C8h2dtDkOR-neHgaakSQhnf0ar4HhbpTeq7P4seTaNDll5WgCYr_pR9UNyJNfXMph3Uo4GWNVN3XVr0Ce9FsyPCkYA9X2DyXaTB2V3BmuOfhhX1o-2-cJg0oHAzE7XMi30cKl1Felch8CFQapnJbQ0cNuRQDN1majFuTMdTSAXFA/w422-h640/2svg29i4rrla1.jpg" width="422" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYFVKr7PzZpi5TDIIqGeUPrST5cnjbkOj7_r94n-IjaFLPVd_LjbnBPDqyKh0E__8LFahs63QKIdc2DUMSZNIdcZE7JNlu8lxstyUh8lHfG6JC7TP3GDGpLV85iDtPiPAjYD6kzVZygdI1mBux6S0VS_qHkznFZLiT7nDus_oQWi6VOCDpwA/s3840/phzzpzcovkma1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3840" data-original-width="2560" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYFVKr7PzZpi5TDIIqGeUPrST5cnjbkOj7_r94n-IjaFLPVd_LjbnBPDqyKh0E__8LFahs63QKIdc2DUMSZNIdcZE7JNlu8lxstyUh8lHfG6JC7TP3GDGpLV85iDtPiPAjYD6kzVZygdI1mBux6S0VS_qHkznFZLiT7nDus_oQWi6VOCDpwA/w426-h640/phzzpzcovkma1.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-49618539268060727492023-05-07T11:32:00.004-04:002023-05-07T11:32:38.240-04:00Kristen Ritter<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaiDI821_QgVsGqonFfC8bQAcXg22W8qGdMuK5V6QrkNS6SNbD8X53ytT1HFvck5vE_WpmOCf5TE7I0S5k1tp38y4Vdicz-BoK5l6al4ub5RFnn2z-v3sv_uHjqye93pi1ytRu678zRi6Mu_lp54TwWNXRIJREG9dwUmbGMrR8_p46_gfqEw/s800/ritter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="640" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaiDI821_QgVsGqonFfC8bQAcXg22W8qGdMuK5V6QrkNS6SNbD8X53ytT1HFvck5vE_WpmOCf5TE7I0S5k1tp38y4Vdicz-BoK5l6al4ub5RFnn2z-v3sv_uHjqye93pi1ytRu678zRi6Mu_lp54TwWNXRIJREG9dwUmbGMrR8_p46_gfqEw/w512-h640/ritter.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-50488962250369888062022-09-03T09:26:00.006-04:002022-09-03T09:26:45.312-04:00Surprise!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgza0n-AyojYzKvSvrkrgGSsfCtsotY9I7EOEKHwR8g-6Alvp8UJ1pBkZVeEV06efeU2-GOo-5oneprjEnE9ZrDFxCIgEmB9gmhsq_7XDCAXOel73FmRvafxD2z4sSX_-vxggZkDYgSfXtloBkl10XV7fxwWisuDNJL5qTybClB2ykDDJI98g/s3890/ezx60eijxgl91.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3890" data-original-width="3112" height="751" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgza0n-AyojYzKvSvrkrgGSsfCtsotY9I7EOEKHwR8g-6Alvp8UJ1pBkZVeEV06efeU2-GOo-5oneprjEnE9ZrDFxCIgEmB9gmhsq_7XDCAXOel73FmRvafxD2z4sSX_-vxggZkDYgSfXtloBkl10XV7fxwWisuDNJL5qTybClB2ykDDJI98g/w601-h751/ezx60eijxgl91.jpg" width="601" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-91324769454912516232021-12-24T00:00:00.002-05:002021-12-24T00:00:00.211-05:00Merry XXX-Mas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N9_dpFs4wqU/X_zCMXbVXbI/AAAAAAAAKzw/de5AEy6-978z71nlLfQxilorSEbwKobTwCLcBGAsYHQ/s512/2020-12-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="412" data-original-width="512" height="473" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N9_dpFs4wqU/X_zCMXbVXbI/AAAAAAAAKzw/de5AEy6-978z71nlLfQxilorSEbwKobTwCLcBGAsYHQ/w587-h473/2020-12-27.jpg" width="587" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-40700957262854032402021-05-15T20:39:00.007-04:002021-05-15T20:39:50.430-04:00Cosplay Lady<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RFSWoND46Ys/YKBpltlLBlI/AAAAAAAAK3w/23lNYOb7VYEuOvOqj_lwZdUef0gwZSG5ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/yw8r72vipry61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1280" height="895" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RFSWoND46Ys/YKBpltlLBlI/AAAAAAAAK3w/23lNYOb7VYEuOvOqj_lwZdUef0gwZSG5ACLcBGAsYHQ/w595-h895/yw8r72vipry61.jpg" width="595" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8yCTA6NGGpg/YKBplvci9WI/AAAAAAAAK30/V7hOJVb0SscZ1QBJS0aePAgUU00q8Xk1ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/4738yuxh92z61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="786" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8yCTA6NGGpg/YKBplvci9WI/AAAAAAAAK30/V7hOJVb0SscZ1QBJS0aePAgUU00q8Xk1ACLcBGAsYHQ/w590-h786/4738yuxh92z61.jpg" width="590" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-13566286531292624832021-01-24T09:18:00.002-05:002021-01-24T09:18:17.260-05:00Morticia<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GFub43zS_6I/YA2Bj8tVuzI/AAAAAAAAK0o/IP0SaADsf7kjiOrbvuJlvC9-IKmHs0WgwCLcBGAsYHQ/s768/4rtnamtev6d61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="512" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GFub43zS_6I/YA2Bj8tVuzI/AAAAAAAAK0o/IP0SaADsf7kjiOrbvuJlvC9-IKmHs0WgwCLcBGAsYHQ/w426-h640/4rtnamtev6d61.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-75656945400550471392020-11-30T20:10:00.001-05:002020-11-30T20:10:11.498-05:00Siouxsie Redux<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-59uHmNOxPVw/X8WX2VMZS7I/AAAAAAAAKyM/R8rgpziPUhQIkCQj3tp7cb-xNsSpZM0OgCLcBGAsYHQ/s960/128349414_1310762219316744_5680210939233648923_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="769" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-59uHmNOxPVw/X8WX2VMZS7I/AAAAAAAAKyM/R8rgpziPUhQIkCQj3tp7cb-xNsSpZM0OgCLcBGAsYHQ/w512-h640/128349414_1310762219316744_5680210939233648923_n.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-9439865948750283092020-11-24T15:56:00.005-05:002020-11-24T15:56:39.969-05:00The Big DanceWhen we moved to the big city after my father died, I had a hard time adjusting to my new school. In the little town where I grew up, I had managed to fade into the wallpaper for years. When I got to the new school it felt like the spotlight was on me all the time and I hated it. There was some kind of novelty of the country kid at the big inner city school. I had a hard time making friends but no trouble making enemies. It could have been that I dressed a little funny and didn't have the sophistication of my classmates but, for whatever reason, I attracted bullies like bees to honey. <div><br /></div><div>The person who reveled in humiliating me and beating me up the most was the star forward on the school's basketball team, David Franklin, which made him virtually untouchable by the administration. The entire school system seemed to revolve around team sports and the best players got away with murder... almost literally. <br /><div><br /></div><div>My mom didn't have time to listen to all of my problems and the so-called "guidance counsellors" were good for nothing apart from test prep for graduation. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>Mom was getting fed up with me coming home with black eyes, bruises, and other abrasions. She seemed to get as angry with me as David Franklin. "Why can't you stand up for yourself?" she would scream at me before sending me to my room. I wasn't safe at home or at school. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then, one day when I came home from school I found my mom waiting for me with a big smile on her face. I hadn't seen her smiling at me in months. "Louis, I finally figured out how to solve your problems," she said. "It's not going to be easy and it's not going to be fast but I know it will work. Do you trust me?"</div><div><br /></div><div>I assured her that I did and, after David had beaten me up just an hour before, I was ready for any kind of solution she might have.</div><div><br /></div><div>She stood up and I followed her to her bedroom where there were clothes laid out across her bed. "This is for you," she said. "It's the first step." </div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't understand what she meant as she pointed at the blouse and dress across her bed. "Go on now, put these on." I started to protest and she yelled, "I said put on the fucking clothes and you're going to do it! Now, take your clothes off and put these on, now!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I hesitated when I reached my underwear. "Go on, it's nothing I haven't seen before," she told me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I took them off and she handed me a little piece of cloth. I didn't know what it was at first until I held it up and saw that it was a pair of pink panties. I almost balked until I looked down and saw the bruises on my chest. I was resigned to do whatever it took to stop being bullied and if Mom said that this was it, this was it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I put on the panties, followed by the skirt and blouse. "That's right. That's very nice," she said, soothingly. She walked around me, touching the blouse, adjusting the skirt. I had never been touched like that before, much less by my own mother. </div><div><br /></div><div>"How does that make you feel?" she asked, almost cooing the words.</div><div><br /></div><div>"It feels okay," I admitted, enjoying her gentle touch. "It makes me feel odd... almost like... like I feel weak in the knees."</div><div><br /></div><div>"It's not odd," she corrected. "It's queer. I realized that the reason you're having so many problems is that you're not like the other boys... are you? You're weak. You're feminine. You're a little queer boy."</div><div><br /></div><div>As she spoke my body began to react. I felt the blood rush to my face when I realized that I was getting aroused wearing these girls' clothes. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Every day when you come home from school, you're going to put on what I have picked out for you. No questions. No excuses. We're going to make you into the perfect girl. Do you understand?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I think so, Mom." I said. </div><div><br /></div><div>"No, no. When you're dressed like that, you're no longer my son. You're my little slave girl. And you'll address me as 'Mistress.' Got it?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Uh, yes, Mistress?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"We're going to make this part of the process as pleasant as possible. I want you to associate being my girl with pleasure. I want you to look forward to being my sweet slave girl," she said, running her hand over my skirt. She felt how hard I had gotten and laughed. "Looks like it's working already."</div><div><br /></div><div>Things went on like this for a few weeks. I would come home from school to find different outfits on Mistress's bed, some of them were dowdy, then they began to get more risque. She also added in stockings, garters, and other bits of lingerie. She began to teach me how to put on make-up, and even had a small selection of wigs for me to put on. </div><div><br /></div><div>Every night before bed she'd put me into a short nightgown and read me stories while her hand trailed over the front of my panties. The stories started off as tales of a man and woman having sex, described in great detail. But then they began to introduce other situations. There were a lot of words I'd have to ask Mistress to define. After a while the stories all dealt with a man doing things with another man dressed in women's clothes. Mistress seemed to touch me the most vigorously during these stories. </div><div><br /></div><div>I really looked forward to coming home from school and dressing up for Mistress. I noticed, too, that my days at school seemed to be going better. David Franklin didn't even look at me anymore. I felt like everything was going my way now. </div><div><br /></div><div>When Christmas came, Mistress had me stay in my girl clothes throughout the entire break. On Christmas morning she had me come down and open presents. I received package after package of things like perfume, padded bras, and a few things that puzzled me. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Don't worry, dear, I'll show you what those things are for. But, first, I want to show you what you got me for Christmas." She opened a big box under the tree to reveal something that had a bunch of long leather straps and something that looked like a large male penis. She stood up and began manipulating the straps until she was wearing it. "This is called a strap-on, my little girl. Come here and get a closer look."</div><div><br /></div><div>I was intrigued and a little scared. "Now, get down on your knees here in front of me," she pointed. I was face to face with the plastic penis. She told me to kiss it and I did. She told me to wrap my lips around it and I did. She held my head and began to push it in and out of my mouth. I started choking when she went to far into my mouth and she tsked. "We'll need to work on that," she said. "This is the next phase, little girl. Get ready to learn how to please a cock."</div><div><br /></div><div>For the rest of Christmas break, Mistress kept that cock in my mouth more than it was out. I found that one of my Christmas gifts was a gag that she would put in my mouth at night that had a cock-shape that I could continue to suck on all night long. I began to dream Mistress coming into my room and forcing her cock in my mouth while I slept. </div><div><br /></div><div>Another thing she got me was a device that would open my mouth and keep it open. She would have me sit in the corner of the room, my mouth stretched open. Occasionally she'd come over to me and spit into my open mouth. She began tying my hands behind my back and I had to learn how to balance myself on my knees for long periods of time. </div><div><br /></div><div>After Christmas break, I would come home, don my outfit, and then give Mistress head, sometimes for an hour or more straight. My jaw ached at first but I soon began to get used to it, if not enjoy it. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I had Mistress's cock in my mouth she would call me names, some of them the same things that David Franklin would call me: sissy, faggot, bitch, slut, cocksucker, cumguzzler. The way she said them were musical. I found myself sucking her harder and faster each time she called me something. </div><div><br /></div><div>One Spring morning, Mistress woke me up and told me to make haste and get into the shower. While I was in there, she came into the bathroom and opened the curtain. She held a razor in her hand and told me that she would be shaving me completely, taking the downy hair off of my chest and legs. "Today is a very special day," she told me. "I have a big surprise for you after school!" She wouldn't say any more than that and I spent all day in anticipation. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I came home, the outfit on my mother's bed was something I never expected. It was a long, peach-colored dress, the kind of things I'd seen girls wear to dances. Then it dawned on me. Today was the day of the Spring Formal. A cold chill went down my spine. </div><div><br /></div><div>I felt her hands on my shoulders. "That's right, sweetheart. It's time to make your debut! You've been so good at dressing up and being a pretty girl for me. Tonight you're going to the big dance!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I wanted to scream. I wanted to protest. Being dressed up in my own house was one thing, but to go out into the world? For other people to see me? It was too much. I turned and began to speak. Before I could get a word out, Mistress slapped my face. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I know what you were going to say. This isn't a debate. Get dressed and ready. Tonight is your debut and nothing is changing that."</div><div><br /></div><div>I was shocked to tears. I had to wait until I was done crying before I could even think about putting on my make-up. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mistress helped me secure and style my wig. She had beautiful clip-on earrings for me and a matching necklace. As she put on the finishing touches, the doorbell rang. "There's your date!" she chirped. </div><div><br /></div><div>Date? Why hadn't it dawned on me that I wasn't going to this dance alone? My mind completely fell apart. I heard Mistress call to me from the living room, "Come and say hello to your date!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't remember standing up and walking to the living room. All I remember is the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I came into the room and found David Franklin standing by the door, a corsage in his hand. </div><div><br /></div><div>"There she is," Mistress said, "just as I promised." Promised? How was this happening? What was going on?</div><div><br /></div><div>"Wow," he said. "The pictures you sent were great but I didn't know just how lovely she'd be in person." Pictures?</div><div><br /></div><div>"Come over here," Mistress commanded. I did as she said. David asked for my arm and I gave it to him. His touch was electric. The last time I'd felt him touch me it had been his fist in my stomach. Then it dawned on me. After Mom had started dressing me up, David had left me alone. Pictures? Promised? Had they planned this?</div><div><br /></div><div>"That's lovely," Mistress said. "Isn't it?" She nudged me. "Thank him. Thank your date." </div><div><br /></div><div>"Thank you," I murmured. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I think we're ready!" Mistress said. "Come on now, I'll drive you up to the dance so you can sit together."</div><div><br /></div><div>This was the first time I had stepped outside wearing girl clothes. I dutifully followed Mistress to our car and climbed in the back seat behind her while David got in the other side. He took my hand in his and clutched my fingers tight. He kept looking at me, like he was devouring me with his eyes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mistress kept looking back in the rear-view mirror and talking to us. "Don't you two make a great couple! She's so pretty and he's so handsome."</div><div><br /></div><div>The drive to the school took forever. David began playing with my hair, tracing my jawline with his thick fingers. Despite myself, I felt like I was going to melt at his touch. How could this beast who had never had anything but contempt and violence against me now be touching me this way? And how could I be enjoying it?</div><div><br /></div><div>We pulled up to the front door of the school. "David, send me a text when you're ready and I'll come pick you two up," Mistress said.</div><div><br /></div><div>He came around and let me out of the car. I felt like I was in a dream as we walked into the dance. Was everyone looking at me or did it just feel that way? David's teammates greeted him with fist bumps and high fives, never even acknowledging that I was there. Had he told them about his date? Did they all know who I was? What I was? </div><div><br /></div><div>The lights in the auditorium dimmed and a slow song came over the loudspeakers. David grabbed my arm and took me to the dancefloor where he put his arm around me and began to sway. </div><div><br /></div><div>"This is your special night tonight,' he whispered in my ear, his breath causing the hairs on my neck to stand up. "Your mother and I worked this out months ago and I've been waiting patiently for this. She's made you into a little bitch and tonight you're going to be <i>my</i> little bitch."</div><div><br /></div><div>The world went fuzzy. His words seemed to cut through me like a knife. Deep in the pit of my stomach I knew what he meant. All those times my Mom... er... Mistress had me suck her plastic cock, all the times she would grab onto the back of my head and force it so deep that I would choke. I suddenly knew what it was for. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had the rest of the night to think about what David might do to me. I was utterly distracted, trying to play his date, drinking mocktails and dutifully hanging on his every word. The rest of his friends' dates wanted nothing to do with me, looking at me with disdain. Though, at one point, Cindy Tessen stood up from our table and pointedly said to me, "I think us girls should go to the powder room." I looked to David who nodded his agreement so I went with her. </div><div><br /></div><div>As soon as we got into the girls' bathroom, Cindy grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me up against the wall. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing," she hissed. "David told me last week that we weren't going to the dance together and that I was going with Chuck Varton. Who the fuck do you think you are?"</div><div><br /></div><div>I hesitated to answer, as I wasn't sure if she knew who I really was or not. The captain of the girl's basketball team, she stood a half head taller than me. I looked up into her eyes, pleadingly. She slapped me across the face, motivating me to answer her. I kept my mouth shut. She slapped me again, hitting me so hard that I fell to the ground before she spun on her heel and left. I remained in the bathroom, trying to stem my tears before touching up my make-up and returning to the table where Cindy glared at me until the next slow dance. </div><div><br /></div><div>As David and I swayed to the music I felt him pressing up against me, his hard cock hot against my stomach. I gasped a little when he took my hand and put it on the front of his tuxedo pants. "This is for you, you little faggot. All this meat is going to be inside you tonight. I'm going to split you in two."</div><div><br /></div><div>Rather than scare me, this turned me on and I didn't know where that feeling was coming from. I wanted to fall to my knees right there on the dancefloor and rub my face against the front of David's pants. I think I may have gasped a little and that caused David to chuckle, "Such a fucking little faggot," he said. </div><div><br /></div><div>I spent the rest of the night either at the basketball team's table or on the dancefloor with David. When we were at the table, he would put my hand on his crotch and rub him. I was amazed, feeling the outline of his hard cock. I was glad that Mistress had been building me up to take bigger and bigger cocks. I kept catching myself, wondering why I was looking forward to being sexually abused and used by David. This wasn't right but I found myself getting more and more aroused at the thought. </div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, David sent a text to Mistress that we were ready to leave. She and David talked the whole way home, discussing how pretty I looked and how everyone reacted to me. I had been in such a state that I wasn't even aware of these reactions. David had me tell him about what Cindy had done and he laughed about it. "She'll get over it," he assured me, "Especially next week when I tell her she gets to use you just like I do."</div><div><br /></div><div>When we got back to our house I found that Mistress had been busy while we were away. Our living room was lit with candles while low music played in the background. She had really outdone herself setting a romantic scene. Mistress excused herself and came back with two glasses of wine, handing one to David as he sat next to me on the couch. She took the other and went across the living room to sit. </div><div><br /></div><div>There was a pregnant pause as they sipped their wine and I sat there nervously. Finally, David took my hand and placed it again on his crotch. </div><div><br />"I know what you want," he said, "but you have to ask for it."</div><div><br /></div><div>It felt like my voice was hidden. I searched for it, trying to find the air to push out the words. I said something that I couldn't even hear. I cleared my throat and tried again, "David, I want to suck you."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Just suck?" he asked. "Do you want to be my faggot girlfriend?"</div><div><br /></div><div>I nodded.</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, you have to say it," he told me. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes, please. I want to be your faggot girlfriend."</div><div><br /></div><div>He undid his belt and button before unzipping his pants. "Go ahead, take it out," he told me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I put my hands in his pants, feeling the heat from his cock. I pulled it out, revealing a fully erect cock that must have been at least 9 inches long. I had never seen a cock that size in real life, only in the dirty movies that Mistress had been showing me before bed. </div><div><br /></div><div>I fell upon it like I was starving. I didn't hesitate for a second before thrusting it as deep into my mouth as I could. Somewhere a voice said, "Easy, baby, take it easy." I backed off it and began worshipping him with my mouth, doing to him what Mistress had taught me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I suddenly felt the need to thank David for the last few months of peace. He had hurt me so badly before and now I could thank him for stopping. Now I could give him pleasure and show him how much I appreciated him not hitting me. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Get up and take off your dress," Mistress told me. Obediently, I stood and began to unzip myself. She joined me, helping me get out of the dress, revealing the special lingerie she had bought for the occasion. I stood in front of David wearing matching pink bra, panties, garters, and stockings. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I never want you to not be wearing that under your clothes from now on, do you understand?" he asked. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes," I replied.</div><div><br /></div><div>"From now on you'll call me Master when we're alone or with your Mother."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes, Master," I whispered. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Good. Now get down here and keep sucking me, bitch."</div><div><br /></div><div>I dropped immediately to my knees and began to worship his cock again. "You have to take him deeper, remember?" Mistress asked. I felt her hand on the back of my head, pushing me down too far on David's cock. I began to choke but she wouldn't let me move. Then I felt David grab my nose, leaving me unable to breathe. I struggled and writhed but this only seemed to make David's cock get harder and go deeper into my throat. </div><div><br /></div><div>After what felt like five minutes he let go of my nose and Mistress released my head. I sputtered and coughed, taking David's cock out of my mouth. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Get up and lay back on the couch," he told me. "Put your head here." He patted the arm rest. </div><div><br /></div><div>I did as he asked. He came around and stood over me at the end of the couch, sliding his cock into my mouth again. He began thrusting his cock deep into my throat. I felt a hand on my little dick and heard Mistress say, "That's good. You're making me very proud of you." </div><div><br /></div><div>David began pumping harder. I felt his hands grab ahold of my bra for leverage as he fucked my mouth with abandon. Then I felt something that I had never experienced before. It felt like I was drooling though I know I wasn't. I heard David yelling as my mind when white. I tasted something strange and knew that he was cumming in my mouth. I was finally making my bully feel good and I was so happy. I drank, slurping his cum, and moaning with my own pleasure of feeling him orgasm and knowing that I helped. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mistress patted my dick, pulling my panties back up over my little erection. "Good job, slut," she said.</div><div><br /></div><div>David left his cock in my mouth, allowing me to clean him before he took it out. He looked down and patted my cheek.</div><div><br /></div><div>David grabbed his glass of wine and finished it in a gulp. Mistress hurried to refill his glass. He looked down at me and I suddenly felt very sexy. I began to pose for him on the couch, still tasting him on my tongue. </div><div><br /></div><div>"What do you say?" he asked.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Thank you, Master," I replied, a little shocked at how quickly I responded as well as the breathy sound in my voice. I realized that I felt like a dog in heat and missed David's cock in my mouth. I had a taste and wanted more. </div><div><br /></div><div>It didn't take long before I got my second taste. David sat back down on the couch and allowed me to suck on his cock while he and Mistress talked. They began talking about me as if I wasn't there, outlining a plan of when I would be spending the night in my own bed, when David would stay with us, and when I would visit him at his house. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then Mistress said something that truly gave me pause when she told him that she would start a new training regimen the following weekend. "I think it's time to train her little pussy to take that big cock of yours, David." </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-45235417325205992062020-11-14T17:38:00.000-05:002020-11-14T17:38:01.211-05:00Miss Me?<p>It's been such a long time since I've written anything. I'm not the first to say it but I think of writing as a muscle and that muscle has atrophied from lack of use. Not only have I not had the time for writing but I haven't had the time for fun either. One might think that in this mad world that I could or should let my imagination run wild and fill these pages with a whole new bevy of stories. Unfortunately, that's not been the way things have worked out for me. </p><p>But know, dear readers, that I'm still here. I still have dirty thoughts rolling around in my head and just need to take that step of getting them down "on paper". </p><p>Do you have any requests? Any subjects that you think we might both be interested in? Do you want to provide me with inspiration? Please leave me your thoughts or send me some inspiration. </p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-16058472383867758302020-08-13T10:09:00.001-04:002020-08-13T10:09:49.302-04:00Hammer Time<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9qU8BVnrbU/XzVJn_Ct7tI/AAAAAAAAKvQ/lBioQX9AQBk5mEClvbHF_k0jbzBIQa3pwCLcBGAsYHQ/s854/nice-ass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="854" data-original-width="683" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9qU8BVnrbU/XzVJn_Ct7tI/AAAAAAAAKvQ/lBioQX9AQBk5mEClvbHF_k0jbzBIQa3pwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/nice-ass.jpg" /></a></div><p></p>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-34701752326851768352020-02-14T00:00:00.000-05:002020-02-14T00:00:13.323-05:00Love is in the Air<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnrHZY_5rIU/XK5sqDoivvI/AAAAAAAAKqU/f222QHPvCmQ3-ofA7rNCeAFXW3JM1LsDwCLcBGAs/s1600/50086294_2178320265765439_7826334929129570304_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnrHZY_5rIU/XK5sqDoivvI/AAAAAAAAKqU/f222QHPvCmQ3-ofA7rNCeAFXW3JM1LsDwCLcBGAs/s640/50086294_2178320265765439_7826334929129570304_n.jpg" width="511" height="640" data-original-width="767" data-original-height="960" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7f75yvXGdWg/XK5sqM-YL_I/AAAAAAAAKqY/cJffun5oe7wLZ3PeSdMPRG2XxQIu4-adACLcBGAs/s1600/50250669_2178788652385267_2308484822122627072_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7f75yvXGdWg/XK5sqM-YL_I/AAAAAAAAKqY/cJffun5oe7wLZ3PeSdMPRG2XxQIu4-adACLcBGAs/s640/50250669_2178788652385267_2308484822122627072_n.jpg" width="427" height="640" data-original-width="640" data-original-height="960" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LB_JZRe0Q0Q/XK5sqP2gptI/AAAAAAAAKqc/g-FGiDeaxkMXv3nHt3K6IcnfRbDPlQDxACLcBGAs/s1600/FPO_08_487HBUS_067_106227_RT1_V5_QC-846x1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LB_JZRe0Q0Q/XK5sqP2gptI/AAAAAAAAKqc/g-FGiDeaxkMXv3nHt3K6IcnfRbDPlQDxACLcBGAs/s640/FPO_08_487HBUS_067_106227_RT1_V5_QC-846x1024.jpg" width="529" height="640" data-original-width="846" data-original-height="1024" /></a></div>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37367662.post-77855708821864498992019-08-15T08:53:00.000-04:002019-08-15T08:53:51.005-04:00New Crush: Paloma Faith<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGEkruUZUe4T9btBAKBUFQlSMUKHSEuCzBkE7cQMUprd-Z-XOTZrCPYNi7pMaoWT1elaiIhBmkBThLfo-lQC7YwlQO-GdaYD1U0wsyYgjBfFfZQ2PqM65kAM7DmFdUwpU5oPwa/s1600/hqdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGEkruUZUe4T9btBAKBUFQlSMUKHSEuCzBkE7cQMUprd-Z-XOTZrCPYNi7pMaoWT1elaiIhBmkBThLfo-lQC7YwlQO-GdaYD1U0wsyYgjBfFfZQ2PqM65kAM7DmFdUwpU5oPwa/s640/hqdefault.jpg" width="640" height="480" data-original-width="480" data-original-height="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p7teHhh9x4s/XVVVs7y_m1I/AAAAAAAAKrw/G2IitCcLVIEE-7eBjINnci0BkroRh_XRgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/Paloma-Faith-lingerie-campaign-Agent-Provocateur-3-640x424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p7teHhh9x4s/XVVVs7y_m1I/AAAAAAAAKrw/G2IitCcLVIEE-7eBjINnci0BkroRh_XRgCPcBGAYYCw/s640/Paloma-Faith-lingerie-campaign-Agent-Provocateur-3-640x424.jpg" width="640" height="424" data-original-width="640" data-original-height="424" /></a></div>Louis Friendhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15540252061490262586noreply@blogger.com0