The Boss’s Dinner – Part 4

Masturbation Monday #9

I’m really going to have to come up with a proper name for this story – all suggestions welcome 🙂

Find parts one, two and three here , here and here

Susannah pulled away as Robert tried to grab her hand.

“Don’t even try it. Just what the fuck is going on?” They looked guiltily at each other, like a couple of naughty school-kids getting found out. At that moment she could happily have smacked their heads together. She glared at Robert and held up her hand as he took a step towards her. “I mean it. Just fucking stay where you are.” Robert and Mark looked at each other. “Well? Exactly what did the two of you decide I was going to do tonight?” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like this, if she’d ever felt like this. Angry, embarrassed, humiliated, she didn’t even know where to start. She felt sick and turned to the sink, ran the cold tap and splashed some water on her face. She looked at the pair of them in the mirror.

“Go ahead.” Said Mark, “She’s your wife.” He tried a smile, she just glared at him.

“Look, Suze. Seriously, neither of us planned on this, well, not this exactly. When you gave the driver the address? That was the first time I realised who your boss was, but do you know how many Mark’s there must be in the city? You never mentioned his surname. I guess I was a little stupid to not have made the connection before.” This time Susannah didn’t object when he walked over to her. “Do you really think I’d do something like this to you? C’mon Suze, you know me better than that.” He wrapped his arms around her. “We did have an idea but you know I’d never get you to do anything without talking to you first.” She couldn’t help herself, but just feeling Robert’s arms around her made the anger melt. She knew he’d never do anything to hurt her. She closed her eyes, relaxed, waited for the rest of the story.

“Mark started coming into the gym about eighteen months ago looking for a personal trainer. I was paired up with him. And, y’know, we got to talking.” Susannah realised Robert was embarrassed, that was a first. She opened her eyes, saw him blushing, not wanting to meet her gaze. Mark took over.

“What Robert is trying to tell you so eloquently is that, like a couple of teenagers trying to outdo each other we started talking about our sex lives. He asked if I was married, I told him I’d never found the right woman, never the right time etc. etc. And one evening I was late, he was finishing up and in the changing room I saw what his amazing wife had done to him. I have to tell you Susannah, just seeing those scratches and bite marks? Hearing his stories? I wanted to meet that woman. Robert was always boasting about her. So I told him about my arrangements, one thing led to another and we set up this evening. He never told me his wife’s name, never told me where she worked.” Despite everything, the thought of these two men talking about her, Robert discussing what they did, what she fantasised about, made her wet. Robert met her eyes in the mirror. Just by looking at her she knew he’d see it in her, and he did. He pulled her closer, she could feel his cock against her arse, he kissed her neck sending shivers through her. She could see Mark looking, his eyes dark with lust, that look she’d imagined so many times before.

“And when were you planning on telling me?”

“I was going to tell you after we’d finished dinner, when we left here. And if you’d said no, I could text Mark, we’d just stop for a drink and then we’d head home.” Susannah straightened up and turned to face both men.

“So let me see if I’ve got this right. You two arrange this little get together and all those people out there are here to either fuck me or watch me get fucked?” She poked Robert in the chest. “And because I get off on the thought of being used by strangers you thought you’d make it real?” Images flashed through her head, the things she wanted, the thought that she could really get to do this, finally fulfil her ultimate fantasy. Dammit, she was so fucking horny, she wanted this, wanted to be fucked, by Robert, by Mark and anyone else who wanted her. She looked over at Mark. “And if I say no? You going to fire me? I mean, you’ve gone to all this trouble, won’t your friends be upset if I don’t put out?” Mark walked over to her, stroked her face with his finger, sending another jolt straight to her cunt.

“I never confuse my work and my pleasure Susannah. Whatever you decide, your job is safe. Unless you fuck up there. And as far as my friends go? None of us are in the habit of forcing anyone to do anything. It wouldn’t be the first time someone has changed their mind.” His hand ran down her body, fingers tracing her nipple through the thin material of her dress, the inside of her thighs were wet now too. Her breathing sounded harsh to her ears as she pushed Mark away. Susannah knew what her answer would be, but she wasn’t going to give in that easily. She folded her arms, took a couple of steps towards the door, turned to face them.

Robert just standing there, he really wasn’t so sure of himself anymore. Mark leaning against the counter, looking as if he didn’t care either way, but she could see he’d taken that position so she could see his hard-on. Arrogant bastard! She really was tempted to leave then. But he knew she wasn’t going to.

“I should just tell the pair of you to fuck off, find myself a new job. And maybe a new husband.” She knew that was nasty but it was worth it just to make Robert think twice the next time he thought about arranging a little surprise for her. She walked slowly back towards Mark, ran a finger down his jacket, caressed his cock. “But if I did that, I’d always be wondering if you’re as good in real life.”

More Masturbation Monday goodness here


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A Crush of Roses

Sinful Sunday #15

Sir takes a lot of photos using his phone, and because all my tech is so antiquated the easiest way for him to give them to me is to send them by e-mail. Usually the subject line will be something like ‘Smut’ or ‘You’re a Tart’ so I was rather touched by the subject line for the photos he took this morning – ‘A Crush of Roses Against the Snow’.

A Crush of Roses

A Crush of Roses 2

A Crush of Roses 3

To see who else is being Sinful This Sunday click here

Sinful Sunday


A Whole New World

Word for Wednesday #13

My word for this week is more than just a word, it’s an entire world.

Discworld: The Discworld is the setting of most of the books by Terry Pratchett. It is a magical world in the shape of a disc which – as in certain well-known ancient cosmologies – is mounted on top of four giant elephants which are standing on a giant turtle. Another (possibly better) description would be “like a geological pizza but without the anchovies”. The Discworld universe operates through the effects of narrativium, which explains its fundamental properties.

I read my first Discworld book 22 years ago at the tender age of 26 (has it really been that long?). The book was ‘Eric’ and after reading it I was hooked. I have a pretty good collection – all of the Discworld novels (except ‘The Shepherd’s Crown’), many of the other accompanying books, maps and a couple of diaries as well as most of Pterry’s non-Discworld books, I have a few pieces from The Discworld Emporium too. I attended the first two Irish Discworld Conventions, and at the first in 2009 I was lucky enough to meet the man in the hat. I still have the goody bags and bits and pieces (including a tooth from The Hogfather).

For most of my life I have felt as if I didn’t belong, I didn’t fit in, anywhere. The Discworld books helped me to retain a form of sanity, even if the books were a little bit crazy. A lot of people have said the same thing. But attending the conventions felt like going home. I finally felt I was with people who were like me, people who understood me. I know that feeling comes from being able to talk to people who I have things in common with, it’s happened since with my creative friends, and with this blog, but it was the first time I’d ever met people who I could actually talk to about something I loved. And I discovered that some people were even more addicted than I was!

Click here for more wonderful words!


I Don’t Get It.


Prompt # 182 – Food and sex – This week’s prompt comes from @100AcreSub: “Look its messy, it gets everywhere, who will clean the sheets, and why don’t I taste good enough… These are my first thoughts when someone suggests ‘spicing’ it up. My next thought is ‘have you washed your hands’ since cutting those chillies? And why is the ginger peeled and shaped that way… Less suspiciously, I recall the squeezing of berries over a female body and watching the juices drip across her skin and I smile, smile at her squirming, the taste on her lips, smile as ice cream melted on her nipples and I lapped it up against those peaked mounds, and smiled as I remember another occasion of someone drinking vodka shots from my belly button, the alcohol tingling at my clit as it dribbled down and it was lapped up. Tea and toast the morning after, the satisfaction and the knowledge of more to come, energy reserves lovingly served… Food as foreplay, food as penetration, food as aids, and food as a craving after the carnal feeding.”

I sort of get the whole food thing, but it doesn’t particularly do anything for me. I’ve spent so much of my life just glad to be able to actually eat something at some point in the day (kids!) I rarely eat breakfast, the thought most mornings makes me feel ill, and I’m used to just having a sandwich – one I’ve made, not often a gourmet special – even when I eat out I’m just happy someone else has cooked and I don’t have to wash up. I’ve never had either the time or the money to become a foodie. I can cook, I like to cook, but to be honest I like things that are easy. I don’t want to spend hours chopping, preparing and cooking. I don’t watch cooking shows (don’t watch TV) and I ended up giving most of my cookery books to the charity shop.

Having a quick look at a few different lists about the top foods considered to be aphrodisiac they all include:

Honey – OK I’ll have it in herbal tea, works great for a sore throat. Never noticed any other difference.

Garlic – Whatever.

Figs – Never had them, so can’t comment.

Bananas – Don’t really like them.

Chocolate – Sometimes it’s better than sex – the right chocolate at the right time.

And of course oysters – I mean seriously? The snot of the sea. I really couldn’t think of much that’s more likely to put me off sex.

And the inserting things? Nope.

Being covered in food? Nope, doesn’t appeal to me at all. Nor does licking food off of someone else’s body really appeal.

The one thing I do like about sex and food is the times after really great sex when I’m properly hungry and anything tastes so damn good 🙂

I think TP said it best:

“He’d noticed that sex bore some resemblance to cookery: it fascinated people, they sometimes bought books full of complicated recipes and interesting pictures, and sometimes when they were really hungry they created vast banquets in their imagination – but at the end of the day they’d settle quite happily for egg and chips. If it was well done and maybe had a slice of tomato.” – The Fifth Elephant.

See who else is being Wicked this Wednesday



Today I felt like a little interlude –

This post is a mixture. A little about my journey, a little about my relationship, a little about the weekend and quite a lot about the inside of my head. It may be a bit rambling in places but it’s one of those ‘Just got to clear my head’ type of post that us bloggers are so fond of.

Before I met Sir the only things I knew about myself were that I wanted someone to tie me up, I had fantasies about being used. I liked sex, I enjoyed sex, I loved having a cock inside me. (As long as it wasn’t the ex). I didn’t have orgasms from sex, but it wasn’t really an issue, I still had fun. The only pain I’d experienced was biting, I liked being bitten, the neck, top of my shoulders, hard enough to leave a bruise but not really hard. I’d never been spanked, it wasn’t even something I had thought about and when Sir asked me about it that’s exactly what I told him. And as for my nipples, please, really, I’d prefer it if you didn’t pay them too much attention.

I’ve been having a look back through my journals from the beginning of this year, there are two. I started out with one, it contains all my usual day to day meanderings, a bit of fiction but it soon became more about my trying to work out what was going on between Sir and me, so in February I started a separate one. Page after page filled with my trying to understand the effect he had on me, why I turned to jelly every time he told me to do something, why I let him do the things he did, how had I fallen so hard for someone I had only known for a couple of months. I was finally in charge of my life after spending too many years being told what to do by someone else. Finally getting on with things, actually having a life, no way I was going to let another man start telling me what to do! To say I was conflicted is an understatement, and yet, every time we were together the same thing happened. Meanwhile back in my real day-to-day life I was becoming more confident, feeling better about myself, I had made some good friends, people I enjoyed spending time with, I was generally much happier – in short I felt damned good! I still hadn’t discovered the existence of this amazing online community and was trying to figure things out by myself, anything I did come across online only made things worse. Stories of subs who allowed their Dom/Domme to control every aspect of their lives even in LDR’s, contracts, rules I had to follow. Should I be letting Sir do that? I’m sorry but that wasn’t going to happen. I may be submissive but I wasn’t going to let someone I barely knew tell me what to do 24/7. If it works for others that’s fine but I knew it wasn’t for me, Sir likes the fact that I have a brain that I know how to use, that I know stuff, that I have opinions. Maybe things would have been a bit different if we saw each other more, I know it’s different when we are together, even with the limitations at my house. The weekend trips to Sir’s house were even more different, I could walk around naked, sit at his feet, ready for whatever he wanted to do. But always the questions I asked myself were – Just how far would I go? How far did I want to go? How far would Sir want to go? I love the fact that he’s a lot bigger than me, stronger than me – being made to do things, being overpowered, held down, used, being hurt, – all of these things are an incredible turn on for me. But I’m just as happy and turned on by just being told what to do. And I still can’t figure it all out.

Over the weeks and months we’ve actually gone further than I ever thought we would. From discussions on spanking and bondage to it becoming a central part of our relationship, from my curiosity about things will feel – his belt, nipple clamps, being hurt in general – that now sometimes it becomes a need so deep that I find it hard to cope with being apart. The photographs, this blog, Scavenger Hunts (I won’t even wear a swimsuit in public). All of these things have led to the fact that I was desperate to get away from home for a weekend, there were things we wanted that were impossible here – I wanted Sir to be able to tie me up properly, tie me to his bed, hurt me, use me. It wasn’t just wanting though, it was something I needed. And I still don’t know just how far we’ll go.

But I also need the times we spend together just talking, even if it is only a phone call. The ridiculous, meandering conversations we have. I listen to him talk about his day, he listens to me talk about my day (sometimes – I still don’t talk much on the phone). Both of us bitching or laughing about just ‘stuff’. The time spent when we’re together, talking, bitching and laughing over a glass of wine, talking about what we want to do together, what he wants to do to me, what I want him to do to me. I’ve never had these things before, never had someone who accepts me completely, someone who doesn’t judge me. Someone who not only knows the difference between when I just need a hug and when I need a damn good spanking, but, more importantly someone who is more than happy to supply either.

Maybe it’s time that I stopped judging myself, time to just accept that the answer to the question ‘Why?’ is one that I’ve used countless times before – ‘Because.’