All About That Kink

I was having a conversation recently with someone about how much easier the younger kink generation has it than us old timers who were trying to do kink before the internet came around. I’m glad to see it, happy to see how BDSM has become a little less ‘icky’ to the general population. I’m a little jealous, too, because I wish I would have had some of today’s resources at my fingertips when I was 20.

FetLife itself has been huge (HUGE). Fet has over 4 million members. MILLION. A drop in the bucket in terms of world population but back when I was 20 years old and feeling like the only weirdo in the world who wanted to be tied up and beat, 4 million other kinky fuckers is pretty comforting.

That’s not even counting the multitude of BDSM porn sites available for browsing. has got to be one of the biggest, and also my favorite. Though I’m a big fan of Wasteland, too. In terms of finding exactly what you want to watch, those two sites cover almost everything.

I’m pretty fond of sites like Paintoy and Brutal Master, as well. Those two in particular address my specific interests. ~beams~

And you can’t leave out hook up sites like XXX Sex Guides. Even the single folks can be kinked on!

With all that kink right there for the taking, I don’t know how anybody is still vanilla. Kink is so FUN!

This Little Piggy Cried Wee Wee Wee – under the desk.

Like I said, we had some friends over the night before we left to get the little kids.

Have I made the post yet about meeting people here in Houston? I know I had thought about it, but pretty often what I think of never makes it out of my head. Anyway, long story short, it’s been pretty surreal to meet people that I’ve been fet-friends with for years. Houston has a pretty large kinky community and I hadn’t even realized how many people I ‘knew’ from online lived in Houston. The neat thing about it though, is I kind of feel like I moved into a place of ready-made friends. At least, that was the case once I let (made) myself open to accepting friends.

It wasn’t planned, this impromptu friends invite. It just struck me to put it out there. We’d had a few days of socializing, which is out of the norm for us anyway, and for some reason I just didn’t want it to end. Hanging around kinky people makes us both feel more kinky. We need that so so much these days, that little extra push. I was trying to keep it and he was, too.

So! We invited some friends over.

A lot of the details, unfortunately, are hazy. Partly because I had too much rum that night (ooops. I broke the Rule o’ Kink. Spank me.) and partly because it was almost 3 weeks ago and I do good to remember what happened yesterday, not what happened last week- or worse, 3 weeks ago.

But there was a girl, a delightfully kinky girl. She’s depraved and nasty and dirty and pretty hardcore… so naturally I wanted to toss her right into M’s path. :D

Wha…? I’m still looking for that butt double!

There was nothing specific planned, like I said. Heck, I didn’t even know if she’d come over, or if she’d be willing, or if HE’D be willing. He’s all about the energy and the mood and the timing- meaning, if he ain’t in the mood or he isn’t feeling the energy, we’d have done nothing more than sit on the couch and chit chat. Which would have been fine, too, I guess, but I’m glad it went the other way all the same.

I don’t even remember how it all started. In the bathroom, I think, when I had to pee and M insisted on not only letting them be the audience but in pissing on me at the same time. Of course then he needed his dick cleaned and since I was busy cleaning up my own self, she was nominated (voluntold? volunteered? all of the above) to help him. Next thing I know, I can hear some slapping and I wisely stepped far far away before he remembered I was there. Haha.

It’s funny, sometimes, when I watch him with other girls, how often I want to intervene, to tell him to be nice or slow down or not hit so hard. I get weird about explicit consent or someone feeling violated or whatever (thanks Fet!)

And I don’t even know that he was slapping her all that hard, but it sounded hard.

Anyway, she didn’t try to run away so that was a good sign. ;)

The middle bit is pretty blurry, but I know there was lots of sucking and at some point I’d been dispatched to fetch dildos. I was fucking her with them while she was sucking him. Fortunately for me I was out of his reach but she wasn’t and I think maybe her nipples took a beating. He does like to pinch them fuckers while he’s getting sucked. It amuses him, I think, to make me (her) (whoever) keep sucking so pleasantly while we wonder if our nips will still be there when we’re done.

That’s not an easy task, in case you were wondering. The instinct is to bite down and grit my teeth, because it fucking hurts. At least, that’s my instinct anyway. Grr.

He (we? me? her? I have no idea) then decided he needed his blow up doll to shut the fuck up and prop her ass in the air while he watched some porn- which is his absolute fav-o-rite way to fuck, hand’s down, no contest. So under the desk she went

More blur. Tra la la.

He fucked her in the ass, that much I remember. I think she squealed. I know she pulled away because he yelled at me to hold her up.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t do that. I was busy DP’ing her with the dildo. Besides, he can hold his own slut up, dontcha think? :)

She finished him off with her mouth, greedy little piggy that she is.

All in all, he says she’s got to work on her form under the desk (blow up piggies don’t talk or move or turn around), and them teeth… grrrl… unhinge that jaw!

His final thought is that she’s a decent piece of piggy fuckmeat.

That’s high praise around here. ;)

Valentine Teaser

I have a whole Valentine’s Day rant but I don’t have time to get to it right now. I know, I’m such a tease.

We had a delightfully kinky adventure the night before we went to pick up the grandkids and I don’t have time to detail that, either. Tease! Told ya. : )

I am currently baking a cake with the biggest Babygirl, who, at 5 1/2 isn’t a baby in the slightest. When it’s cooled down, we’re going to turn it into a heart shape and make strawberry buttercream to frost it. We have pink and red sprinkles and kiss and mustache shaped sugar things to decorate it with. She’s quite excited because Grandpa doesn’t know what we’re doing (yes he does, but he’s a great pretender). Later tonight the four of us have a Valentine’s date at the uber-romantic Rainforest Cafe (snerk) and we’re going to watch the sexy movie that just came out, 50 Shades of Spongebob. Or maybe Paddington. I’m not sure yet.

Good times.

I’m busy. We do something every day, whether it’s just a walk to the park or a day trip somewhere fun. The smallest Babygirl is much better than the last time she was here. At 2 1/2 she’s still a handful but she listens fairly well and I can even walk out of the room for a minute or two. She was a mischievous rotten child during her last visit, not so much this time. She’s able to participate in some of the activities which makes it more fun for everyone all around.

But they still don’t let either of us out of their sight for long so alone time is non-existent. I’m fine with that, really. I keep thinking about how they’ll be gone so very soon and, besides, M’s still caught up in his hobby anyway. Grumblebitchwhine.

That’s really all I’ve got. I just wanted to pop in quick because I haven’t updated in awhile and I had a few minutes while waiting for the cake to bake.

Drinking, Defeat, and Denial.

That previous post is a prime example of why one shouldn’t post while drinking. It came out entirely more emo than intended. Or maybe I was feeling emo. Who knows. Alcohol is a depressant, or so they say. Too bad it has to taste so good. ; )

I really wasn’t complaining (lie) so much as musing. The title of ‘control freak’ was me questioning whether or not my “protecting my emotional investment” is an attempt to control how much control he has. A sort of… almost a punishment of sorts. Or a method of manipulation.

I’m closed off.. some. I know I am. It’s self preservation, mostly. Not entirely subconscious but not entirely willful, either. Instinct, maybe. I don’t know.

Maybe that’s just more bullshit excuses, too.

It’s just… you know how orgasm denial seems to be so prevalent in bdsm circles? How, for some people, that kind of denial makes them want it more, makes them hungry for it? Well, orgasm denial didn’t work that way for me. Oh, it does for short term denial. A week, 2, maybe even 3 weeks, and I’m horny and kind of desperate for some cock.

But then it shifts into something less hot (by his point of view). The less I get it, the less I want it. After a few weeks, I stop being horny. Too much longer than that and not only am I not horny, I have difficulty reaching an orgasm when it is allowed. We learned that pretty early on in our relationship and he (wisely) went the other way with orgasm fun. The more I have, the more I want. If he wanted that desperate, horny girl humping the air every time he walked by, he either gave me or ordered me to have more orgasms than my clit even asked for.

Woe is me, right? :D

So… turns out the rest of bdsm is working the same way. The less I get, the more closed off I become. Which doesn’t sit well with the “transparency” rule he has in place.

And it’s not that I’m questioning ownership or enslavement or whatever. I’m not. I’m just wondering if what I’m doing is more deliberate than I’m willing to admit to myself and how much of it is functioning as a deterrent to him doing more.

Shooting myself in the foot, so to speak.

If it’s a fact that I’m less open, less vulnerable, less accepting-and that is a fact- and if it is also fact that when he corrects me, hits me, grabs me, whatever- my reaction is somewhat… unpleasant… (and it is- or, if not *unpleasant* exactly- because I’m not a fool in spite of evidence to the contrary-, it’s also not exactly “wanton slavegirl begging for more” encouraging)

… then it stands to reason that I am possibly probably perhaps trying to dissuade him from doing more. Because I don’t want tiny little bites if I can’t have the whole meal. I’m simply not hungry enough. Anymore.


I’ve accepted defeat, stuffed down my desires so far that they no longer direct me, and this… this quietly obedient but slightly unpleasant lump of slavegirl is… well, is it. This is it.

Before it turns into the ‘just talk to him’ party line let me just say that he’s not so interested in talking it to death, his answers almost always tend to be “I’m gonna do what I want” so it’s generally just me flitting about my own navel.

Which is where I came down to “does it matter to anyone besides me” whether it’s defeat or acceptance or… anything else. Or does it matter at all what the answer is if the end result is that he’s content with what it is.

Probably I should already know that answer.

Probably I do.

Probably I’m wishing it was a different answer.

Control Freak

I can’t make him want me more than he does.

I can’t make him be interested in the kinky fun things like he used to be.

I can’t make enslaving me, my mind and heart, as fascinating as it might have once been.

I can’t compete.

I can’t control.

I can only protect my emotional investment.

Try to minimize the pain of perceived rejection.

Which begs the question

is it surrender

or defeat

or neither.

And does it matter

to anyone

but me.

Mean Bitch

I hardly ever celebrate men in pain and that’s not fair. I like to see a guy getting reamed in the ass as much as the next mean bitch. :)

Available now at Men in Pain: Mean Bitch

The mail is late for the last time. Beautiful Aiden Starr brings her vicious personality and gorgeous tits to the mail room to get to the bottom of things. Sz is new, but not new to sucking up to the boss. When she beats his ass with a heavy wooden paddle, it looks like he is going to lose it. But, the anticipation of the beautiful dominatrix banging his ass with her strap-on keeps him in the game long enough to satisfy the hot, demanding bitch.

Go to Men in Pain »

In Case I Get Lost


Fear Strike Level: Expert

I was walking past him, naked and fresh out of the shower, when he reached out to finger the fluffy patch of pubic hair he hasn’t let me shave for the past month.

“That’s gonna burn off so nicely.”


S’cuse me. I gotta go pack.

What’s in a kiss?

Maybe the key to making me want to be kissed is not being kissed for 30 days.

Kissing, one of those leftover demons from the past that I can’t seem to conquer. But last night… last night I ached for it.

He’d already bitten and slapped and scratched and choked and suffocated me to dizzying, breathless heights

his cock buried painfully deep in my cunt

but it was his tongue, dancing tantalizing out of reach of my mouth that was driving me crazy.

Tomorrow… I love ya.

Because that’s when he comes home! ~snoopy dance~

I am so fucking ready. For some sex and some pain and some bossing around and some shenanigans.

Aaaaand he’s gonna have terrible jet lag and sleep for 2 days.


My official weight loss is 10lbs exactly. I’d have liked a higher number but 10lbs in 4 weeks is good enough. Now to stay the course, and between my pasta-loving Master and my sugar-loving grandbabies, I’m gonna have to pull some hella willpower out of my ass. Because I also happen to be a pasta-loving sugar-lover. Doomed, I tell you.

Speaking of ass, mine needs fucked.

Yours? :)