Mar 7, 2009
Mar 5, 2009
Let Me Tell You How Smart I Am
There aren't a lot of professional Dommes in my neck of the woods, or at least not that many advertising these days.
I recently spoke to a woman via a D/s site and, as soon as I heard her voice, I realized that I had spoken to her years before and immediately remembered why I never played with her. No, it wasn't her rate... it was her spectacularly bad personality.
Despite there being years between conversations (she didn't remember me, of course), she was a broken record; telling me over and over in so many ways how smart she is and why everyone else is dumb.
The strange thing is, this isn't the first time I've talked to a Domme who's made a point to tell me how intelligent she is. Some throw out their college degrees while others some drop the MENSA bomb. I'm not sure why this is, but there's a need to justify one's actions via their education and it's rather disconcerting.
If I talk to a person for more than a few minutes I can generally suss out whether they're smart or not. Why is there this need to immediately jump on a high horse and never look back?
Porno Person - Different Version
Sugasm 160
Big thanks to the folks at Sugasm for posting a link to my story, High School Bully Part 2
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #161? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.
This Week’s Picks
He beats me
“I bite my lip in anticipation as I follow his direction.”
Jerking Off: You’re doing it wrong!
“However, I’m in it now. And I need it.”
Love Languages
“How do I best show my love?”
Sugasm Editor
Faking A Four Way
Editor’s Choice
Sugarbutch Star: Matt (part 1)
See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.
Mar 4, 2009
Caught!
Two tales, both of them involving a person's significant other coming home. Strangely enough, the second one, "An Afternoon with Marcy" wasn't based on any kind of old magazine story, it was taken from my life.
The real story didn't involve cuckolding at all. It started off similarly; leaving work one afternoon to meet up with a local transvestite. We played around for a while, me going down on her. Shortly after she came, I heard the key in the lock. It was his girlfriend. No, no cuckolding happened. Instead, I excused myself and basically got the heck out of there before the screaming began.
An Afternoon with Marcy
I love the look of an attractive man in drag. The look of a masculine body depilated and dressed up in frilly things really get my blood boiling. Unfortunately, these men are usually emotional wrecks. They carry as much emotional baggage with them as sexy negligees, teddies, and panties. That's one reason why I try to keep in contact with and know as many of these folks as I can, hoping that the stars align with one or another every few weeks to allow a meeting an a few hours of fun before that window closes again.
It was one early winter Saturday afternoon when an opportunity presented itself. I was putting in some overtime at my office, occasionally opening my Instant Message window to see who else was online while I toiled. "SexyMarcy33" went popped on and I opened up a window to talk to "her". We shot the shit for a while, catching up about things that had gone on over the fall and summer. She told me that her girlfriend was out for the afternoon and what she had put on in her girlfriend's absence, celebrating a few hours of freedom by going "en femme" for a bit.
As always, I asked if she was ready to put her money where her mouth was and invite me over to let me see first hand what she was wearing. And then she surprised the hell out of me, "Sure I don't C Y not," came her response.
I had to suss out if she was serious but her providing directions to her apartment sealed the deal. I told her I'd be over in a half hour and signed out before she could protest or change her mind.
Marcy opened the door, being sure to not let herself be seen by anyone outside, including me. When my eyes adjusted to the dim of her apartment, I saw a lovely red head, all dolled up in a yellow sun dress with a chunky necklace, earrings, and too-tall heels. Her shoes and short dress helped show off her long, lovely legs.
Like too many of my favorite girls, she wore too much make-up but I knew that it was only a crutch to make her feel even more feminine. What would help her, there, too, was if I treated her like a lady. I stepped forward, putting an arm around her and pulling her into me, kissing her gently at first until she returned my kisses more passionately. I snaked my tongue into her mouth and allowed her to feel the bulge in my pants against her leg. This opened her mouth up more as she tilted her head back and groaned.
After this display of arousal and power, I pushed away from her slightly and entered her apartment more, looking around to see what kind of man she was and what kind of woman her girlfriend could be.
The apartment was quaint and I had Marcy make me a drink while I sat on her couch, checking out the lay of the land.
As she handed me my drink, I patted the cushion next to me, indicating that she should sit there. She seemed rather nervous, and that was fine. I liked her being off balance a little bit and hoped the alcohol would help the situation. Too many time I'd been with a girl like Marcy who would go only so far before getting scared of her own desires and backing out, graciously or not. I was here to get some action, not to hold her hand through some kind of touchy-feelie self-knowledge gathering. I made her painfully aware of this by sitting back, undoing my belt, button, and zipper before fishing my hard cock out of my pants and putting her hand on it.
She took a slug from her drink and then did an extra gulp as she looked down at her hand wrapped around me, surprised, almost as if it were someone else's. The crimson nail polish at the ends of her fingers looked particularly lurid compared to her pale skin and the dark veiny surface of my sex.
She looked up to me and licked her lips. She had a question in her eyes and I nodded my assent. She got down onto the floor and I spread my knees for her. She propped her elbows on my thighs and took me hungrily into her mouth. It was obvious that she hadn't had much experience sucking cock and I was more than willing to help teach her what she needed to know.
"Hon, take me out of your mouth. Now, put your fingers around the base of my cock," I offered. "Good girl. Now, lick me. Lick along the vein that runs up the underside of my cock. Stroke me while you do that."
I stroked her hair, wondering briefly how she wore it when she was "en drab". I drove this thought out of my head, wanting to enjoy her fully as the girl she was being for me. "Good, now take me into your mouth again. Slower, this time."
She was more deliberate this time, thinking of how things must feel for me, rather than how she was enjoying the sensation of a cock in her mouth. I could feel her tongue butterflying around the head before snaking it down and around me. She took me deeply, choking herself a bit.
Despite what some guys may like, I've never been turned on by the sounds of gagging. I pulled her back a bit and told her, "If you can't take it all, you're going to have to work at it slowly."
She looked up into my eyes and began taking me deeper and deeper, pressing her tongue delightfully against me all along the way down.
Behind me I heard a familiar and unnerving sound, a key going into the lock on Marcy's front door. Her girlfriend had come back early, just seconds away from me busting my nut in Marcy's mouth. My hard-on faded as Marcy jumped back, a panicked look on her face.
"Quick! Hide!" she said, trying to pull me off the couch toward the back of the apartment.
As soon as Marcy's girlfriend opened the door, I knew we'd both be in plain sight. I managed to get my pants back up but knew there was no sense in trying to hide. More than anything, I was dreading the impending social awkwardness as Marcy and her girlfriend were undoubtedly going to get into an argument, forcing me to leave as graciously I could under bad circumstances.
"Mark, what's going on?" came the small voice. I was surprised to hear such a tiny sound coming from her as she was a fairly big girl. Short, plump, brunette, and loaded up with packages from her shopping expedition.
"Angel, it's not what it looks like!" he cried. Despite my better judgment, I laughed out loud at this ridiculous statement.
"Oh, don't lie to me, Marcy," she said icily, "It's exactly what it looks like, I'm sure." She dumped the packages at the door and stormed over to Marcy and slapped her across the face. Marcy began crying and Angel began taunting her, "That's right, sissy, cry. Cry like the little bitch you are."
Angel turned on her heel to me. "And you! Was she good? What did she do for you?"
Feeling no need to be coy I said, "She sucked my cock."
I could see by the look on her face that I had taken Angel by surprise. She looked from me to Marcy and back, "How was she?"
"I've had better, but she's got promise," I said, enjoying where this conversation was going. Angel was throwing out a vibe that told me we were on the same path.
"Did you like sucking him, Marcy?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.
Marcy lowered her head and whispered, "Yes."
"Then get down on your knees and do it some more. I want to see how you do it."
Marcy's face fell. She looked between Angel and I, her eyes pleading for help. Neither of us were giving her any. Instead, Angel pointed at my crotch and I began undoing my pants again.
As I stood there, hand on my cock, taking in Angel and Marcy, I wondered if this was fulfilling some kind of mutual fantasy for them. It even crossed my mind that Angel's "early return" might have been planned all along. It all seemed too convenient. And, moreover, Marcy could have refused but there she was now, getting down in front of me, replacing my hand with hers, and taking the head of my cock into her mouth.
Angel moved to get a better perspective. "Oh, that's very good, Marcy," she cooed. She bent over and began critiquing Marcy's critique. At one point she grabbed the back of Marcy's head and forced her to take all of me into her mouth. Angel looked up at me and winked lasciviously.
"It's nice having a fluffer around," she said. "I'm ready for you to fuck me so we can show Marcy how a real woman can please a man." Angel began peeling off her clothes, letting them fall where she stood while Marcy--still sucking my cock--eyed her nervously.
Angel kicked her clothes out of the way before getting down on her hands and knees next to Marcy. Angel's spread her knees, showing off her sizable behind. "Oh, fuck me," she moaned, turning her head and looking up at me.
I pulled Marcy off of my cock and got down behind Angel, sliding my saliva-slicked cock into her sloppy wet pussy. The smell of her pussy filled my nostrils and soon her squeals filled my ears. She grabbed onto the carpet and began thrusting herself back into me. "Marcy, get under us," she told her dumbstruck boyfriend.
Obediently, Marcy crawled between Angel's belly and the carpet, putting her face practically between my legs. I felt the additional sensation of Marcy's tongue occasionally taking swipes at my cock and balls as I pummeled Angel. From the sound of her reaction, Marcy quickly found Angel's clitoris and began concentrating her attention there.
"Oh, yes," Angel moaned, "taste my pussy on his cock. He knows how to fuck me like a real man, not like you, you faggot cocksucker." As she spoke, Angel seemed to get more and more excited, as if talking her way to climax.
"His cock hits me in all the right places. It's so good to be fucked by a man and not by a little bitch who'd rather wear my panties." She let out a long loud scream and I could feel her pussy grabbing me tightly, pulsating in time with her animal grunts.
Marcy, still between us, had her hand down her panties, rubbing furiously.
Angel began growling and her body started to shake. Her pussy held me fast and I could see her hands making fists. She paused, like she were a fly trapped in amber, completely still until she gasped for breath. Her pussy relaxed and she rolled off of Marcy and away from me. My cock, still wet with her, wasn't yet satisfied. Marcy moved closer to me, taking my cock in her mouth, her head still between my legs.
Lying on her side, watching us, Angel purred, "That's right, Marcy, suck that cock. Suck the taste of me off of him. That's the only way you should taste my pussy is from the cock that's been fucking me." Angel pulled down Marcy's panties and began stroking her thin, circumcised cock. Marcy began arching her back, moving against Angel's hand like a greedy bitch wanting to cum.
This pleasant sight helped push me over the edge. As Marcy began cumming, Angel squeezing the spunk from Marcy's cock, so did I. I could hear Marcy choking a bit as she took my load, sucking and gulping all of me down while her own cum spotted her sundress.
Angel smiled broadly and took Marcy's hand. I climbed off of Marcy and saw the same smile on her face, too.
When I came out of the shower, the girls were cleaned up with Angel showing Marcy what she had bought. "How many times have you two done this?" I asked.
"You're our first," Angel replied. "But we'll have you back if you'd like."
"You've got my instant message handle. Just give me a shout whenever you'd like." I leaned over Marcy and kissed her deep on the mouth before saying, "I'd like to break in Marcy's pussy."
Angel showed me to the door, handed me her cellphone number, and said, "Next week, same time," before saying goodbye.
Dress Me Nice
I enjoy being feminized. However, I don't dress up on my own. A common misconception has guys putting on their pretty panties every day before work or coming home from a long day and rolling on the stockings. That's not really my thing.
I'm don't seek out feminine clothes or wear them on my own. There's really no thrill in that for me. The power and allure of feminization comes from being with another person and having them emasculate you via dress. And, even more, via their words. Putting on panties, putting on panties for someone, and putting on panties for someone and hearing them say, "Oh, look at what a little slutty bitch you are." are three completely different animals. I like the second one but I love the third option. That's where feminization becomes sublime.
It's the words that make me swoon more than the silk and lace.
I'm not a pretty girl. I'm not even an attractive man. It's not about being transformed into a woman but being changed into a living palette onto which my play partner paints their desire. I'm there for them, doing what they want to me to do and being who they want me to be. And, if they like making me into their little slut... that's a wonderful thing. I enjoy being their girl.
Lady Heather Honored at Cinekink!
Though she didn't win Gil's heart at the end of William Peterson's run on C.S.I. (a complete crock), Lady Heather (Melinda Clark) still won big in 2009 at the Cinekink Film Festival:
"CINEKINK TRIBUTE"
FESTIVAL AWARD FOR EXTRAORDINARY MAINSTREAM DEPICTION OF KINK & SEX-POSITIVITY
Recognizing extraordinary depiction of kink and sex-positivity in mainstream film and television, the annual CineKink Tribute was presented this year to two CBS television series:
The first CineKink Tribute went to the short-lived "Swingtown" for its "refreshingly upbeat presentation of non-monogamy and the swinging lifestyle as simply another type of relationship choice among many possibilities." Created by Mike Kelley, who was also a series executive producer along with Alan Poul and Carol Barbee; the show debuted on CBS on June 5, 2008 as a summer replacement series and is said to have been championed by network president Nina Tasler.
The second CineKink Tribute went to "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation" for its "respectful and non-sensationalistic depiction of professional domination in the guise of lead character Grissom's long-time love-interest, Lady Heather." Created by Anthony E. Zuicker, the series first broadcast on October 6, 2000. Writer Jerry Stahl is credited with creating the Lady Heather character, who was introduced during the series' second season in the episode 'Slaves of Las Vegas' and is portrayed by actress Melinda Clarke.
Mar 3, 2009
Freedom is Slavery gets GREAT review!
Just popped over to Smut Girl for my daily dose of Sommer Marsden's wit and wisdom and was treated to a wonderful review of Freedom is Slavery.
"His writing is clean and neat and flows like a clear river on a sunny day. Even when we're talking double dongs, clothes pins, rape play, cross dressing and random blow jobs. During all of that there is a subtle eloquence to the bulk of the passages."
Pretty snazzy, eh? I'm absolutely thrilled to have a writer whose stuff I admire lavishing such praise on my naughty stories. Read the whole review here.
Mar 1, 2009
The Gearjammer and the Homo
I was such a good boy. I don't know what happened.
I caught some peeks at "girlie mags" when I was a teenager, sure, but I waited until (the day) I turned 18 before I went to an adult bookstore to get my hooks into my own porn mag. I was drawn immediately to Nugget Magazine, as I've written about before.
One of the stories in either that first Nugget or an issue I picked up soon thereafter was about a guy banging a bisexual girl who gets caught and cornholed by her butch girlfriend. Sound familiar? Yes, that was the basis of "Hitchin' a Ride" but with one crucial difference... In my story, the guy liked it. In the original, he didn't. Even as an 18 year old, I was just enthralled by the idea of being taken by a woman with a strap-on. I'd never even seen such a device but I was captivated by the idea.
I could never understand, "Why didn't that guy just lay back and enjoy it?" Being OCD, that story rattled around in my head for nearly two decades and I simply had to rewrite it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)