Tag Archives: stories

Picture it and write – 7 April 2014

Man setting on an armchair, holding the foot of a lady setting on the chair's back

Picture it and write April 7, 2014


She was his inspiration, his muse, his raison d’être. Most of the people who saw her saw a young woman on the move, an up and coming business woman climbing her way to the peak. While he saw that, he also saw her vulnerability, her softness, and her delicate, delicious femininity. They had meshed almost as soon as they had met, he was on  an assignment to cover the new generation of business leaders and she was his subject. During the discussion leading up to the shoot they had talked about her life and passions, and she had demanded that if she was to be an open book that he should as well.  After the pictures had been taken and the notes all committed to his recorder, the long afternoon together had extended into the night, the first of a long succession that had so far continued seven years.

He had been kinky since the first time he tied up the neighbor’s daughter while playing “Cowboys and Indians.” She, on the other hand, had thought that an afternoon of making love with the lights on was daring.  The first time he had pulled out his camera to capture her hidden charms she had balked, but after a while she had relented, and then blossomed in front of his lens into a photographers dream, limber and sensual, shedding her inhibitions as soon as they were discovered, and discovering a deep peace in submitting herself to his will. They had never really discussed it, but over the first six months it had become clear they complimented each other perfectly, falling into their roles of Dominant and submissive, experimenting, learning and growing together. They had tried many things, but they kept coming back to the rope.

They had learned this together as well.  While she was primarily his subject, she had also learned to tie the carefully crafted bindings, and had even tied him, so that he could better understand her experiences. Today was to be a graduation of sorts, a private time for just the two of them. He sat down and took her foot reverently in his hands, and then the look came to his eyes….

And it began.



Filed under Inspired Writing, Meanderings

Picture it & Write

The following was inspired by this image, posed as a writing inspiration at Ermilia’s Picture it and write.

queen in black veil

Warning, this entry contains mature content

The King is dead, long live the King!

For Elsebeth it was a horror.  Not only had she lost her King, she had lost her love, and soon would lose her life.  Her death she could face, without her Andre she was lost anyway, but it was not just her death that drove he, it was the death of her children, the oldest at only nine was too young to assume the throne.  The concept of a regency had never been imagined here, the throne would now go to the Kings brother, and he would be concerned with his own legacy.  It wasn’t even personal.  The new King would “clean house” as a matter of practicality.  If there were no others with legitimate claims to the throne then one threat to the Kingdom was eliminated.  It was the children who were important, killing her was considered a mercy.

There was only one chance.  The new king did not yet have a queen, and with his preference in…consorts… he was not going to be looking for a woman to do more than bear him an heir. That was her chance, for once her slim, almost boyish figure would be an asset. She would go to the new king with a proposition; an alliance that would benefit them both.  He would get a well loved queen who was already proven, who already knew of his preferences, and who would , and she would get safety for herself and her children.

Her servants bathed her carefully, their fate too hung in the balance, she was shaved smooth from the neck down, her hands and feet buffed smooth with stones, then rubbed in a soothing lotion scented to excite lust. As was the custom she wore a long black veil to show she was in mourning, but her nakedness beneath the veil was anything but customary. She had worn a veil with nothing beneath it once before, the last time she had done this had been her wedding day when her vows had been consummated before the gods and the people of the kingdom. If she was fortunate today would mark her second wedding, and she would be taken again.  If she was unfortunate, then the result would be the executioner, but instead of a quick death she would first see her children drowned like rats, and then be stricken barren by plunging smoking hot irons into her sex, and turned out onto the street to live or die as the gods decided.

The discussion had been brief, the negotiation one sided, but still she counted herself favored.  Her black veil had been exchanged for white, and she was kneeling on the low alter waiting for her king to claim what was now his.  He was there behind her, his robes open and hard cock pushing insistently against her cleft. she had been prepared by the priests, as had he, with a draught that ensured she would be ready for his attention, and as he shoved into her hot, wet sex she felt the explosion of her orgasm burst through her.  He thrust into her again, and then again, withdrawing completely before adjusting his aim and taking her last virginity. As his manhood buried itself deep in her bowel she screamed in a combination of pain and lust like she had never known, but even as she screamed she knew triumph; her children were safe, to be adopted by the king who had no use for women, but needed a queen.


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March 31, 2014 · 1:33 am

Spiritual 3 by mehmeturgut

I love the look of you, setting there with your eyes closed, concentrating on every nuance of my voice as the fan drones away in the background, blowing your hair willy nilly around your face.  I know the peace you feel waiting for the first stinging slash of the cane across your legs, or perhaps today it will be the thud of your favorite flogger on your back and shoulders. this is no punishment, its a reward for your patience while I was away on business, but tonight my only business is you. I know that in this second your universe stops, and you are at peace.

My enrty to Ermilia’s __picture it & write blog


Filed under Meanderings

Picture It and Write

Picture It and Write

2014 03 29 13:46:18.27 It has been 17 days now since you jettisoned me. 2 weeks, 3 days, 11 hours, 15 minutes, 23…24…25 seconds. Falling was frightening, then it was just just boring, now its back to terrifying! Only seconds left now, I’m sorry, I lo

2014 03 29 13:47:43.29 <signal_lost>

2014 03 29 13:47:43.32 <end_of_transmission>

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March 29, 2014 · 1:50 pm

Another Step

I followed Joseph McNamara to __picture it & write, and was inspired to write this:

Light was streaming in through the window. Bright, beautiful morning light streamed through the dirty, rain stained window finally brightening the tiny room that had become my dim reality. It had been raining for what seemed an eternity, a cold dreary rain that drained wills and sapped energy. I had fought it out of instinct and sheer will, singing, laughing, screaming, crying, refusing to let myself be sucked down into the void of self pity and pain that threatened to consume me every day, but finally the universe had heard my pleas and granted me glorious illumination, driving away the shadows and fear, bringing lightness and a joy I had feared my soul would never know again, and I understood that this was what I had been fighting for, not to disappear into the cold dreary nothingness, but to embrace this glorious warmth and go take the next step on my journey in peace, my path lighted; I could finally let go.

I’ve been thinking about some of the people who have left this stage of the journey for the next lately, some of them finally at peace, others kicking and screaming; I’m not sure exactly where this came from, it just sprang forth fully formed from my mind. I’m sure the image will mean different things to different people, what does it mean to you?


Filed under Meanderings