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Rambling Down the Road

This contains adult sexual situations so if you are under 18 go away.

Riding through downtown always on the watch for a rider, always on the prowl. It is not exactly predator and prey but at least it is something to take the edge off. You must have a feel about it, some would call it a sixth sense. What areas to cruise at what time of day, almost a need to be able to predict the need of a random stranger. A ping and I head to the place to pick up my next rider.

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I pull up to a hotel on a less than savory side of town. The hotel is run down, the light on the sign is flickering like it is threatening to go out at any time. I can smell the weed clinging to the early morning air as I push the button that sends the rider a signal I am there. It is always a crap shoot as to what kind of person will be at an establishment like this. A door opens a couple rooms up and a lady is waving to me with her phone in hand, a universal signal to a driver like me that is the person I am looking for. She opens the door and gets in, not what I had been expecting at all. There is the smell of an expensive perfume to accompany her smart style of dress. She did not have the disheveled appearance I was anticipating. A quick verification she was the correct person and the address and off we go into the early morning darkness.

I focus on the road as she is on the phone talking to someone and she laughs then bids them a good morning and thanks them for a wonderful night. Suddenly it is quiet except for the music I play to keep my mind occupied. I can see her in the mirror as she is working with her phone a minute later, she clears her throat and apologizes for being preoccupied. I tell her it is no big deal to me; I have had business types spent an hour or longer in dead silence working on some corporate thing as I take them to their destination. I ask how her night was then it is like a dam opens and suddenly I go from being a driver to a confidant. At first it was broad strokes of how great her night was, then as we chatted details began to spill out. The streetlight I passed lit up the back seat. I could see her auburn hair she was twisting as she was looking right back at the mirror. Her dark eyes held a series of secrets that were slipping out from her red painted lips. The more we talked the more she became explicit in her description, also the more I had to focus on the road and not the reaction it was having on my body.

It seems her lover she had just left there was skilled at oral pleasure. I agreed with her that men that had that skill set were few and far between. She teased and asked if I had that skill as well. I felt the sudden flush in my face as I answered yes before my edit button chose a more diplomatic answer. She giggles and said she bet I made women happy then. I replied I have never had any complaints. She led the conversation further into her escapades of the night and how she loved him using a blindfold and holding her down. Traffic has picked up as rush hour is rapidly approaching, the time of what I call auto ballet. She is playing with her phone again and smiling as she bites her bottom lip. FUCK! I just blew a yellow light, at least it was not red. She giggled again and told me he took pictures of them last night with her phone so she would have them to remember. I see the upcoming red light and stop for it.

We get to the destination as she sits and waits for a moment. I end the ride, but she still is waiting and asks if I am in a hurry, she wants to show me something. I turn my meter off, and she leans back in the dark back seat. I can see her clearly as she spreads her legs and starts to touch herself. It is wicked fun watching as she touches and plays with her lips and slips a finger then two inside. She is looking right at me as she continues. She asks if I want to show her those oral skills I talked about earlier. I did not hesitate as I got out and entered the back seat. I could smell the scent of lavender soap and her juices as I leaned closer. Replacing her fingers with mine I enjoyed her gasp. I worked her wetness and rubbed my thumb on her eager clit. Her breath was getting faster and more ragged as her fingers gripped the sides of her skirt. I leaned closer and her fingers now gripped my hair. I followed her lead to where she wanted, needed attentions. It did not take long before she was having her first orgasm, I refused to let up and brought her to another. After I have gotten her to her third, she panted and pushed me away still shaking. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a condom. She asked if I minded, of course I was good to go as she told me to lay back. Her hand soft as she worked it over me, then we adjusted so she could let me slip into her. I kissed her neck and gave a few nips as well and tugged on her earlobe. I rocked her slowly at first adjusting myself so I could enjoy her as much as she was enjoying. Before too long I felt my need growing as I released with my primal growl. The look of shock and sudden pleasure as she exploded under me was perfect.

A honking car as I had been sitting at the green light too long apparently. I looked in the mirror as she giggles looking back at me. I got to shop daydreaming at red lights.

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8-6 My History

It is thrilling, even a rush with the fright that sometimes comes with pushing the boundaries. Be it in writing or in some form of play. The thrill of seeing how far, how fast, how much can be crammed into a single event. Hockey is my favorite game, I grew up watching it with my grandfather and the best games, the ones that had us screaming at that old box on 4 legs near the fireplace was the times when they got into an altercation. Gloves flying off, helmets sliding across the ice as a fisticuffs moment broke out. Even better if the Rangers were beating the crap out of one of those looser Canadian teams, at least that is how it was in that house. Of course, the Rangers never lost, they were robbed by bad calls.

Fast forward to my teen years, decisions that would mold the rest of my life were the word of the day. What college did I plan to attend? What career was I looking at trying out? I remember my career counselor all but beating his head on his desk with me.  Apparently, the troublemaker student I was at the time did not have the foreseen discipline to become a doctor, a gynecologist to be exact. In retrospect that would have been a horrible choice for me, but I will skip the reasons why. I really wanted to become a writer but that was far from smart enough a career choice for someone of my skills. The thing is, I think if I had started back then I might have done quite well at it, potentially even making a name for myself. “Do not sell yourself short!” my parents’ mantra that pushed me into their mold of what they felt would be a good fit for me. During this time, I discovered girls did not give you cooties. In fact, they were quite pleasant company and there were benefits to getting especially close to some of them.

I was smitten with Kitten when I was fourteen. Her long red hair and buxom chest as she smiled with those deep blue eyes. Sigh, my first kiss and making out, first petting sessions. We never got any farther than that and we still stay in contact talking about life from time to time. My real sin was Jen, that brown haired demon in female form. We were rival high schools and both in the marching band of our respected school. We met at a competition and I was smitten with her. Romeo met his Juliette; we sealed the deal of our relationship on my sixteenth birthday when I skipped school and we started making out in a field. I was raw and new to relationships, but she was brazen and fiery, she knew what she liked and wanted without shame of expressing her desires. I got a crash course in sex and sexual fantasy. She wanted it to be rough and me to take what I wanted. Looking back there probably was some issue with her that I was unaware of, but I thought this was how all relationships worked. The next three years we were on and off again, we both dating others in the midst. Several of her female friends ended up in the back seat of my car. I felt like a big deal and I had quite a reputation of being a libertine. I was aggressive and forward, there was no edit button in my mind to mouth connection. I was fortunate that in all that insanity I never “took things too far” despite my aggressive nature.

College was a slap in the face, that pack I ran with had vanished and suddenly I was on my own. I met a sweet proper catholic girl who was always blushing at my forwardness and advances. When we got alone and I pinned her against the wall for a kiss and a feel I felt something all right. Her hand across my face. I was shocked and as much as it frustrated me, I also wanted to know what I had done wrong. That is when I learned my previous experiences were not the norm for a relationship. Of course, I was not interested in her version of a relationship. I listened and learned from her before we went our separate ways. I was soon introduced to another who was a huge influence in my world, she and I would sneak off to have fun in public places, it was a rush and I was hooked. She also introduced me to a guy who totally rocked my world like a F5 tornado in a trailer park.

I was raised men were to be with women, end of story no exceptions. Anyone who deviated from this was a pervert of the greatest order and would suffer horribly in life. He was as bold and brazen with me as I had been with Jen. The first time he took my face in his hand and pressed me against the wall for a kiss I almost collapsed. We spent that evening together and talked once he realized I had never been kissed by a man much less anything else. He was bisexual and that was fine by me, I was submissive to him and honestly in love. The next year was educational to say the least, he allowed me to express my thoughts freely and without shame or judgment. He introduced me to the wonderful world of BDSM and sexual freedom. When a situation arose that meant I would not be following the career path I originally started on he set me free. It was a tailspin spiral that sent me into chaos.

My first so called marriage was filled with secret affairs and wicked games. It was the only thing that made me feel alive and human, when that ended, I was a rogue free agent with a lust for adventure and all things pleasurable as I saw them. I lived on secrets and lies as a way of life. My second and very brief marriage was Jen 2.0 with a taste for rough and forced. We had no boundaries set, no safe words, her world was drugs alcohol and sex and mine was sex and alcohol. When I came to grips of the coming disaster, I got sober and she left. I spent years just floating about doing what I wanted but never in anything that resembled a committed relationship. My third marriage was good at first. I had hit a point I needed a break because this was not how “normal” people lived. It was good for a while, but a series of personal tragedy started ripping us apart. I missed the chaos, I needed it back to keep my sanity as I watched my wife of the time shrivel into a shell of the person she once was. I was an online flirt, perverted, shameless and found my footing in the poetry realm.

I started back on my exploration of my darker side; it was like coming up for air. Epic horror poems were rolling out as I reveled in the shock and awe they produced. That is when I ran across the mistress of angst. She was a force of nature and we ran in similar circles. A friend introduced us, and we got to talking. It was life changing to again be with someone who understood and accepted me as I was. She became my submissive and we were handfasted not long after. It was been a beautiful messy ride of an intensity I cherish, perfectly balanced chaos. We are open and poly, there are no lies, no secrets as we talk about everything.

So here I am, looking back as I am trying to make since of a upside down world. What is my next step, how will I proceed? Maybe I need to get that dark ink flowing again, after I wrote Dark Christmas several years ago it seemed to have stalled me. Maybe I need to revisit it and see what comes to mind.

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Our loony tune life

This is something a bit different, I always talk about communication so here is an example of a letter, well poem I wrote to express to my sub how I was feeling. Open and honest feelings are important so I will give everyone a look at how it works for me.

I am trying to say it without causing a fight

To not make it sound like you are wrong I am right

I need to tell how I feel before things explode

I also know that much is to be said for how it is told

Things change as time moves on this, I understand well

How do I share what is becoming a personal hell?

I think I clearly expressed what is on my mind

Dreams and ideas that make me feel crazy all the time

What I want, what I think what I feel, words fail me

Never before have they, maybe because it is insecurity

Yes your logic is sound, but the idea keeps sniffing around

There must be a solution before I lash out or drown

How odd to me, this never would have been an issue before

There is a huge difference, you I love and adore

The hiding, lying and cheating all stopped with you

Even secrets are not a thing to have for us two

Now I am the keeper of secrets again, I don’t know why

I damaged you more than your injury when I made you cry

I ripped your soul open because that locked place in your mind

I could not just accept some things should be left alone for all time

I have cried myself to sleep many times in quiet frustration

For my unforgivable acts there is no proper compensation

I am far from the thing you met, you have changed much in me

I remember the destructive beast I once was happy to be

Shallow and self-serving, ungrateful for gifts given in love

The change so slow I did not notice it till I felt a nudge

The Texas sized mistake as she came with pretense to play

I never forget how angry you seemed that things went that way

I attract the crazy so often that is true, she was just another

I felt guilt I missed the sign hurting you to play with some other

Flirting and flaunting have subsided for the most part online

The beast side openly shown to keep them away from my line

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What has come of us, will we be the old couple that stares over tea?

Glory days behind as we feel the coming inevitability

Scratching days off the calendar, sharing the stories once again

You remember the time when we, oh yeah, well mind hearing it again?

I am angry inside, we are not supposed to wither and die

Maybe it is just me filled with my arrogance, vanity and pride

I am angry with Laura, shattered a situation I had hope in

I am angry with Covid as it has forced un into isolation

I am angry with myself for wanting to feel alive again

I am angry with your injury and not being able to play again

Other forces bear down from outside, I feel contempt for the world

My mother, brother and so much more like darts are hurled

I know I am petty and ungrateful because I want so much more

I promise you this when I leave each day I will come back through the door

You are my heart and soul, this will ever be true for all time

Please be patient with me as I share the things that are on my mind

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7-30 The world we know

A thimbleful of madness mixed with the dregs of life, such a bitter wine

No such elegance to behold in this disheveled existence in time

Know no simple task has been given for the forgotten and downtrodden

Civility long ago forged now a memory in the mist dead and rotten

Time as these see goodness poisoned like an apple injected with poison

Greed and lust flow free and flesh is the only commodity within reason

Reason, oh it is unreasonable to look for it here, in the valley of filth

Climb and desecrate the dreams once held as pure, give in to wealth

Little else matters in this putrid festering realm, sell your body and mind

Tendrils sliding along the edges waiting to pluck dreams left behind

No taboo so vile it is not be dreamt, the dream a growing haunting need

Slithers in the bed of the dreamer it latches in place of dreams now dead

Fallow field of a broken mind, plowed by the vile broken creatures left behind

Seeds of lust, greed and desire tilled deep sprout into a thick choking vine

The tempting fruit that hangs just past the tips of starving lips, so inviting

Look but do not touch, touch but do not taste, taste but do not enjoy imbibing

If it were some sickly pallor it would not have such appeal to lure

Monsters the masses cry out but not one amongst them is pure

Rotten to the core as their cry for punishment of the one who tasted desire

A scapegoat now shackled and brought to the center for a symbolic pyre

The masses lusty cries for blood to be spilt ascending to a fevered pitch

Each chanter harboring personal desire that slithers yet is held in check

Rage for the one who dared to imbibe and enjoy, even become intoxicated

Rules they scream as the shackles hold them back, their venom placated

Morality mingles with mortality stones fly in a self-loathing sea of humanity

Found guilty by the corrupt the scapegoat now bludgeoned at their need

At the reading of the charged, the exposing of the crime to live outside rules

A seed falls and takes hold in the soft fertile soil of another in its youth

Walking home the seed is watered as spying eyes see a pleasing thing

Will this vine take hold and grow or be a hidden withered seedling?

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7-29

Yeah well it is time for some of my twisted side. As always it can trigger the sensitive reader. If you are under 18 get lost, this isn’t for you.

Shattered and bleeding on the floor, curled up desperate

The twisted reality crashing all making plans turn to shit

Nothing to do but take it, wait it out, just react to the next blow

Fucking hate how it comes and comes without hopes glow

Hemorrhaging dreams beyond recovery do a death twitch

An increasing need growing like an incessant itch

Just to feel alive, to know it will come to a head

How to go on with what feel like a land of the lost and dead

Turbulent thoughts cloud clear rational reality

Clawing in a land of nightmares, sail on the bloody sea

Blistered hands gripping the rope, climb again, climb

Wary bones exhausted muscles running out of time

Impossible possibilities dangle just a fingertip away

Falling again, like a wounded animal left on display

Shattered, angry, screaming inside and snapping everything

Fuck it, what is there left to do when it is all in flame

Positive negativity eating like acid on the flesh

Nothing left but a husk flopping like a dying fish

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Scraping and clawing it has awakened from slumber

Now consumed with an endless gnawing hunger

Petulant flesh so weak when such power is roused

The surge of power washing aside the weak shroud

Finger to the sky, I am the despised and hated

Filled with needs that can be fed but can never sated

Laughing as they fear what goes bump in the night

It is the friendly smile that will bring a true fright

Intoxicated on the scent of fear the masses secrete

One on one is when it becomes a real treat…

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Fate’s Plan

So here we are at the 5th part of the story –The Great AdventureThe GameThe CaveCan we negotiate – as always this is for adults so if you are under 18 leave. TW: blade play

Jackie lay there frozen and tense for a moment while Sara ran the blade over the remaining articles of clothing. The deft hands manipulated the knife like it was just a continuation of Sara. The movements seductive and sensual as the straps of the bra that ran over each shoulder were cut, the sharp steel slicing the cloth effortlessly. I was mesmerized as the blade danced along the remaining cloth covering Jackie’s breasts. The tip disappearing under the center gore then reappearing as the silver sharp phallus glided easily under the material. The wicked grin crossing Sara’s face as Jackie gasped when the tip touched against her throat. Leaning down Sara kissed her captive deep and passionately, with a twist of her wrist and pulling back movement the material split open springing the cup to either side and exposing the gorgeous B cup breast I have many times enjoyed myself.

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For a moment, my view was obscured as Sara crossed over and positioned herself at Jackie’s head. It was arousing watching those lips and tongue dance over her exposed flesh. Special attention was given with soft kisses where the blade had passed and left a thin red line. Not enough to bleed but enough to know Sara could have easily cut her if she wanted to. It was like a dance as Jackie arched into the attention of her new seductress, moans of arousal grew with each lick, kiss and touch of blade. This time the silver slowly disappeared into the waist band of her shorts, the spine of the blade pressing against Jackie’s sexy flat belly.

It was mesmerizing watching as Sara used the blade and slid it in and out of the shorts, each invasion going a little deeper till the tip could be seen pressing against the material for a couple of strokes before bursting through like a metallic release escaping the confines. The motioned continues as the expanse in the material grew and eventually made a complete opening along the zipper that still was pulled closed. The next few minutes Sara took full advantage of the compromising position Jackie was in. Straddling her face and letting the material of the skirt fall around, obstructing the view from the guys while toying with Jackie’s clit and soft wet lips by sliding the spine back and forth and wiggling to at the same time.

Jackie’s hands had a tight grip on Sara’s thighs, holding her close. Her increasing moans while Sara mercilessly teased her turned my mild but often kinky girl into a wild cat. The shift was breathtaking as suddenly Jackie arched and dug her nails into Sara’s legs. The blade clattered on the side of the table and to the floor as Sara arched and howled herself. It was more a surprise and shock that erupted then Sara dove for Jackie with wild abandonment her face and mouth planted firm in newly exposed flesh. Sara gripped and pulled Jackie’s legs up and it was easy to see this was a battle of wills. I have never been so turned on, the animalistic growls emanating from the two of them was spectacular. Jackie fumbled around reaching on the floor till Steven jumped forward and handed her the blade he carried on his hip. The remains of the shorts were gone in a moment and Sara turned the knife so she was holding the blade. The rounded handle found the opening of Jackie’s wet pussy, in a flash the butt of the knife was pushed in and Sara used it to fuck the wild cat she had bucking under her.

Steven had moved back but he had unzipped his pants and was stroking while watching the girls go at it. I could hear Chad next to me, his breath ragged as he was caught up by the show. There was no hiding my erection as it pressed against my pants, demanding to be released. It felt odd for a moment as I pulled my zipper down and released my cock till, I saw from the corner of my eye Chad had done the same. The girls showed no sign of letting up, Sara had Jackie’s clit in her teeth and she was tugging and pulling on it while the handle was fucking my girl. Jackie stiffened and Sara let out a scream, both women in a locked moment of pain and pleasure.

I could feel chad’s eyes on me as I moved behind Sara and lifted her skirt. I needed to see Jackie’s face, I wanted to shoot my load on it while She was obsessed with another lover. A moment of shock, Jackie’s nails hand dug in and made Sara bleed, but even more there was Blood on Jackie’s face. In the heat of the moment Jackie had bitten down enough to draw blood.

“Oh hell.” Chad said just above a whisper “no wonder Sara was going buck wild. She gets off on being bitten hard like that.”

We ere just flies on the wall, Jackie and Sara had forgotten we existed till now. Jackie opened her eyes, fire burned in them. Jackie let go with a hand and snaked it around so that she could finger Sara as I watched. Her thumb rubbing Sara’s clit as the next three sank into her wet hole. Jackie’s pinky teasing the edge of Sara’s ass. It was the show of a lifetime as both women pushed the other to the heights of pleasure. Several orgasms later both were starting to slow down. Sara slowly dismounted and went over to the other flat surface as Chad checked on her wounds.

“Your girl did a good job on mine. Shall we take this to the house so we can clean up and see what other things we can get into?” Chad asked

Jackie and I were excited by that thought so we gather out stuff and off we went with them. It was like fate had planned this wild getaway for us.

To Be Continued…

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BDSM

Whips, chains and ropes oh my, the world of BDSM is an exciting realm to explore and see how far it will take you. BDSM covers such a huge realm from soft DD/lg (Daddy Dom/little girl) to rope bunnies, D/s (Dominant/submissive), and more extreme relationships. One misconception commonly held is the need to engage in sex to have a scene. Do not misunderstand me, sex and sexuality play a part but there is no need for actual penetration while doing a scene. A rope bunny can be tied fully clothed, a spanking scene can be done with jeans on, in fact the jeans can make it sting more.

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Ask any professional Dom or Dommie, often their scenes do not allow for penetration because of the situation. Especially if the local laws prevent it. Without going into each state or countries regulation it is safe to assume that in many places the interaction between a professional top or bottom with a client sexual intercourse is illegal. Thin about how much more energy would be put toward a scene if having sex was taken off the table.

For a what would be consider a good satisfying scene there might need to be a bit more creativity. Expand your thinking of how to make it exciting for the partner. Use that brain and see what is possible, a rope bunny with different color rope to make it more pretty or take time to learn a new knot tie or whole form of tying. A spanking scene can be fun with various kinds of impact toys. A good spanker knows how each item delivers a different kind of impact. From floggers to paddles or canes, each having their own feel and type of impact, a good spanker knows each one works and feels.

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The key in BDSM is that is creates a deeper connection and exploration. Have fun, and for goodness sake Tops do not take yourself so seriously that laughter is a bad thing. I have seen those stuffy Top that are total control freaks needing it to go perfect. If something goes sideways, they totally lose their mind. Where is the fun and excitement in that? Just relax and go with the moment and enjoy it.

BDSM is a beautiful realm, it takes communication and honesty to make it work. If you feel you are unable to share every desire and need then that is not the relationship you need to be in. A single scene or two would be fine, but it would bode trouble for a long-term relationship. Neither side should have secrets, they are horrible and will eventually ruin the relationship. If one needs a poly relationship and the other monogamous it will lead to cheating or resentment. If one need to be involved in impact play and the other finds it boring or hates it then it will eventually lead to disaster for the relationship. If one is into CNC (consensual – nonconsensual) and the other holds back the secret they were assaulted, it can lead to an explosive situation or total breakdown in a scene.

I for one enjoy the world of BDSM and hope you do as well. My wish to everyone is that they have many wonderful experiences and grown in their wisdom and adventure. So have fun people and always remember to practice safety when engaging in any form of BDSM play.

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Can we negotiate

I felt a shudder as Steven was close to my other side. Sara took the Bowie knife and slowly cut the remaining cloths off Jackie and tied her down.

Continued from the story like I have been running for the past month. Enjoy and for those under 18 this is not a place for you do please leave.

The previous stories are .The Great Adventure .The Game .The Cave

Sitting down on one side of the makeshift table with Jackie my mind raced as Chad, Sara and Steven stood on the other. The feeling of apprehension growing in my gut as different scenarios played out in that crazy space everyone has in their mind. Best case we would somehow walk out unscathed from the cave then run like hell back to civilization. I am not really one to focus on a best case though, my mind ran more along the lines of never being found as we are tortured and left in the woods for the bears. Maybe our remains be found when they were breaking ground for the banjo hall of fame or something like that.

Sara was the wild card, twirling her long pigtails and smacking her gum like some country version of Harley, I knew she would have to be the one to reason with. The guys might be the muscle, but it was easy to see she was in control. Her crop top just barely covering her ample breast showing off her tight abs, the short cutoff blue jean shorts all but flaunting the rest of what she had to offer. Both the guys in their dirty stained blue jeans with dingy cut off tee-shirts sporting a different rock band, were calm as their eyes stayed focused on us. Jackie did her best to keep herself covered with the remains of her cut tee-shirt.

“So Bo, riddle me this,” Sara started off with a playful glen in her eye “you liked it when you thought Chad was watching you two, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I stammered

“Oh no big boy, you liked it. You made sure Chad got a good look-n-see. You did not really seem to mind till you felt trapped by me and Steven. So, do you feel trapped, scared, worried thinking about what we might do to you guys?”

Swallowing hard I new she was toying with me as well. Testing my reaction, my response. A classic battle of wills and resolve, or was it something simple as she was taking charge even if I did not wish it? No, if that were the case we would not being talking, the guys were people of action more that thought and restraint. This was more a cat and mouse game with her, or maybe more a couple kids coming to the playground and the others wanting to see if they could play too.

“The lady asked you a question.” Steven barked gruffly

I snickered and he bowed up. I knew he felt slighted but calling Sara a lady was funny to me. She was a far cry from my definition of a lady.

“My apologies man, no need to get all bent out of shape.”

It was easy to see he was trying to show off for Sara, but she was focused on me. I doubt there had been many men in her past that would have been difficult for her to manipulate. For her, I was an unknown, a challenge, she needed to know how far she could get into my head.

“You think I am not a lady” Sara said with a playful pout.

She got up and rounded the table. Running her hand up Jackie’s arm I saw Jackie tense up even more. Sara leaned in close and kissed the side of Jackie’s face, her lips slowly gliding towards those soft lips I had felt many times. Sara’s hand slid to the back of Jackie’s head and applied enough pressure to lock lips as I watched Jackie melt into the moment. I was far from the first time she had been with a woman and I always enjoyed watching or participating with them. The situation here though was quite different than any other we had been in before. It was obvious Chad and Steven were enjoying the view too, but they remained on their side of the table.

“Tell me tasty little thing, what would it take for you to agree to let me any my boys enjoy some time with you, and your guy?”

Jackie looked at me with confusion and concern in her eyes. We were far from exclusive but normally we had an evening or more of negotiation for the wants, needs, soft and hard limits. This would be a first for us negotiating on the fly.  She looked at the trio as they eyed her like a new toy then looked back at me and bit her bottom lip. That was a sign I knew saying she was game for seeing what would happen.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked after the long hanging pause

“Well big boy, how about you guys watching us girls enjoy each other and I tie this little sweet thing down. Nothing harsh just some oral and fucking. With condoms of course, we like to be safe when we have fun.”

I looked down at Jackie and gave a shrug, she looked up and smiled sheepishly then gave a nod to say she was game. The tension changed from apprehension to excitement as the guys started to shuffle around to get a better view.

Sara smiled as she kissed Jackie and ran her hands over her body and slid open her already cut shirt. It was so sexy watching them play together. Chad crept up next to me to get a better view. He reached down to his boot and I gasped as he pulled out a boot knife.

“Hey buddy, relax. Sara is a pro and you are going to love watching this.”

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I felt a shudder as Steven was close to my other side. Sara took the Bowie knife and slowly cut the remaining cloths off Jackie and tied her down. Chad was right, I loved watching her work, she was as good with a knife as I was. She turned and gave me a wink then handed me the blade as the guys got undressed and stood waiting for their turn as Sara enjoyed the sweet taste of Jackie.

“Just say red if things get too much for you baby, okay?” Sara said with a wink.

To be continued…

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Breath Play

I am continuing to share what I know about some of the kink world from my experiences. If you are under 18 this is not for you so scram.

Breath play is a multifaceted subculture that is part of the kink world. From auto-erotic asphyxiation to manual strangulation by a partner, it is considered one of the more dangerous of all the categories on the extreme side of the kink world because if it is done without a proper understanding it can cause brain damage and death. One does not have to look far to read a story of auto-erotic asphyxiation gone horribly wrong. There are also cases where a person either through ignorance or being “caught up in the moment” have compromised their partners ability to receive oxygen to their brain, thus leading to death or brain damage. I know, you are thinking damn man you are driving the point in hard about the danger. You are correct, I want everyone to be safe and have a great time. I would never recommend auto-erotic asphyxiation, ever! In a solo situation if something goes wrong there is little to no chance of being able to get help in time, even if your “buddy” is watching from Skype or Zoom. With a partner even then certain situations I personally refrain from engaging in. The potential risk is more then I consider acceptable for the reward.

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I will never use an object or device that can lock or catch where it is difficult to release. All you belt lovers I would highly recommend making sure the belt was unable to be secured when it is tightened. If the belt locks like it was designed to do then you will have to tighten it more and take a few extra seconds, that you may not have, to release the latch. A D-ring attached to a leather piece or old belt would be safer than an actual belt buckle and you can get one for fifty cents or less and any hardware or general store. The same goes for people who enjoy using rope to choke with. Twisting the rope to lock it so you do not have to use so much pressure to hold it can be dangerous. Twisting will tighten the rope even more around the neck, adding to the pressure you already applied. I seriously doubt your arms will get tired before you should have released the tension on the rope.

My personal recommendation would be using a bare hand to the sides of the throat and applying pressure for a few seconds to the artery, seconds being the count of ten and release. If you are unsure where the artery is then do a little research beforehand.  For any objects used on the throat to choke, said objects should be thick and preferably soft [like clothing] to keep even pressure. A shirt or towel are favorites of mine, they are thick and soft but get the intended result. Never use excessive pressure because it would be easy to damage or crush the larynx and /or trachea, also known as the windpipe.

Breath Play slides in and out of all the other forms of kink play like a sweet syrupy additive to a scene, it brings an additional euphoria to the one being properly choked. For the one doing the choking it is a rush of power and control. From the hands on, using a cloth on a neck, a pillow over the face (definitely not recommended without hand signals) to bagging; all come together in mysterious way to heighten the experience for some harder type kink players.

A simple hand over the mouth and pinching the nose is a form of breath play as well, often part of fear play I enjoy using in scenes. As simple as it is, the outcome is quite effective. It is close and personal normally with body to body contact. This form of breath play can also be applied by pressing a partner into the crook of the shoulder. Because the partner’s facial expressions cannot be seen this should only be done if both parties have talked about it before and have preset non-verbal signals.

Bagging is one I have never been interested in, it just never had been something I found fascinating or erotic, but I do know others that do. It is when a plastic bag is used over the face of a partner to slow or stop their breathing. I can not give any advice on this kind of play except like all other breath play use caution and think safety first.

Aquatic breath play is one I really do not care for. It included water boarding which in my opinion is akin to torture. Also, I have heard of holding someone’s head under water in a tub or pool while engaged in some form of sexual activity. For me this is way out of my boundaries. The danger of aspiration and further complications are high. Even though I identify as a sadist this is a realm of torture too far for me. In my opinion breath play should be about enjoying the ride not giving the other person a traumatic experience.

Before engaging in any kind of breath play type activity I highly suggest researching the risks and proper ways to engage in whatever form of this play you desire to try. Yes, it can be fun and yes, I do enjoy partners that green light breath play. I just want everyone to be smart and safe. Have fun enjoy and always educate yourself.

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Blade Play

This is a blog for adults so if you are under 18 scram.

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There is a lot of debate over certain parts of RACK play. Each comes with their own risks and today I would like to talk about one of my favorites, blade play. Before anything else there needs to be a high level of trust. A blade is not a toy and things can go bad quickly if there is an accident. For me blade play is any time a blade is used in a scene. From using one to shave off the wax in a hot wax scene, fear play and even bloodletting, all fall into that category, in my opinion. One of the most interesting things for me is how so many times different types of play intermingle. I already mentioned wax and fear play, but a blade is not necessary for either of them.

The basic is using a knife to heighten a scene in some way. I will never forget a scene I saw at a club in Atlanta call The Chamber. Dim lights as a lady dripped candle wax on a guy who was tied to a table. It was obvious he was enjoying it. Once the candles had burned short, I thought it was over as she let him lay there for a minute. Then she pulled out a boot knife, her first move was fast sliding along her chest. I remember the gasps around me as I was transfixed on the silver that was showing an edge of red. It was the wax she had quickly shaved off. The next few minutes were frozen in my brain as I watched her shave the wax off his body. It was amazingly effective way to clean him but even more how she was making well practiced moves around his chest, belly and down his legs that had been painted with the hot drips.

I had used blades before but never like that. It was riveting to observe. My previous blade play was for fear play and some light cutting. I had a blade I kept dull so that I would not accidentally cut my partner. I could put it on the throat without the chance of cutting them badly, but there was that feeling of them stiffening because subconsciously there is always a reaction to cold steel in sensitive areas. It is a rush of primal predator and prey, that feeling of total control. It is often labeled as a sadistic style of play because of the close tie to using fear and pain.

Sometime cutting is involved too. I become transfixed on that beautiful crimson welling that can mingle with sweat or just weave over the skin in a slow line. Drawing lines along the flesh to make a design, a heart being my favorite. It is a way of making sure my presence is remembered longer than a bruise lasts. Here the blade needs to be sharp, mine are razor sharp. Caution to know how deep to go, often just breaking the surface is enough. Be sure the blade is clean as well; infections and excessive bleeding could be potential issues as well. Always have a first aid kit handy and be SOBER! Drinking and blade play are a poor mix. It would be easy to have a serious accident with a sharp blade. Also, alcohol makes a person bleed more, ask any good tattoo artist.

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I have several types of blades for different styles of blade play as well. From huge to incite a fear response to a small one that looks like it is a joke till the razor-sharp edge carves perfect lines. There is a natural fear of a blade hardwired in most people, that is why it is so effective in fear play. My regular pocketknife is the perfect size to produce such fear. Not obscenely big but big enough to make a person pay attention to it.

I can not stress enough with blade play to actively be aware of what you are doing. If you are not sure, do not do it. Safety is paramount in this kind of play; it would be easy to cause injury or death. With all that said if you do engage then enjoy. I hope this helps, if you have any questions do not be afraid to ask and I will do my best to answer them.

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The Cave

Welcome to the next installment of this story line. The trigger warning is in place for readers. If you are under 18 scram, you are not old enough to be reading this. It is time to start the decent into the rabbit hole of where I envision this going. The first two parts are The Great Adventure  and The Game  .   ~And off we go!~

The cave offered Jackie and I a fun place to explore our kink even more. The couple bed like areas might have been used for sleeping or something but that must have been years ago. At least that was my hope. The notches were perfect for the climbing rope I always carried in my bag. Tying Jackie down I started to tease her through her clothing. Her nipple responding as I blew hot air onto the material then pulled back allowing the natural coolness of the cave to excite them. Those mews of pleasure encouraged me as I slid my hand inside her shorts. Running my finger over the wet hungry lips I had many wicked plans for later. Her back arching and eyes pleading for me to continue. Caught up in the moment I took my boot knife and grabbed her shirt. Without a word I cut it open exposing her beautiful breast. That gasp of shock and surprise made my mind race as I leaned down and took a hard nipple in my teeth. The whimpering moan as I tugged was sexy as hell.

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The sound of footsteps on the loose floor behind us made me freeze. Jackie was to in the moment to notice as I turned to see Chad the property owner watching us. He smiled and gave a wink as if to encourage me. I am all good with people watching but this was an unusual situation. The reality of us being in a cave on his property and the way the place seemed too perfect a find sent a chill of anxiety for a moment. Jackie was too far into what I was doing to let that stop me. Chad leaned against a wall and gave a since of ease as I proceeded to bite and lick over her body. I knew those favorite places she had, when my teeth grazed her armpit Jackie pulled hard against the rope. This time I used more force latching on. Her pleasure filled cry as I felt my teeth grip her flesh, she was going crazy as I knew how much she needed to feel my finger in her. Pushing into her wetness there was no holding back as Jackie exploded, the beautiful sound of her orgasm crashing against the walls of the cave.

The sound of Chad giving a clap for our performance shocked Jackie out of the moment.

“What the hell?” She yelped. “How long has he been watching us?”

I shrugged my shoulders “I do not know. I am glad he enjoyed watching.”

“Untie me!” Jackie demanded

“Why? He is just watching, and I know how much you enjoy being watched.” I growled looking in her eyes

“You put on one hell of a show.” Chad said “Plus if I remember right this cave is in the off-limits area. Ever wonder why?”

I swallowed hard as I could see he was really the one in control. Especially when his girl twirled around him. She had been hidden by his shadow in the dim light.

“Oh baby, they look like so much fun, do you think I could play with her too?” she begged Chad

“You would have to ask them Sara. Right now, it looks like they are scared as jackrabbits.”

Chad was right, maybe it had been too many crime dramas but all I could think was we were in real danger now, especially with the two of them there between us and the exit. I reached down to pull the quick release to let Jackie up. As I touched the tope another voice from the shadows.

“Not so fast sport, we were just enjoying the show. No need to get all flustered and run off.”

I could not see the person saying it but the shadowy figure with the gruff male voice sent a shudder along my spine. I looked down as Jackie as she looked back with fear and pleading in her eyes. I pulled the rope; it was do our die as her hands were free. My heart racing as they stood their ground. Jackie untied her feet as I moved closer to them to protect her.

“Aw Buck, no need to get all excited the voice said as he took a step forward.

The tall well build new guy was imposing. He reached out his hand to shake mine

“Hi, my name is Steven. I help with the upkeep here. We just heard some noises and thought something bad was going on. Glad you guys are okay. That is one hell of an adventurous girl you got there.”

Trepidation raced through me as I reached out to shake his hand. His big grin as we shook hands did little to set my mind at easy.

“So now that you know me, how about we talk about what you two are doing here?”

“I think you figured that out watching” I shot back smartly

“No need to get all huffy man, I was just trying to be friendly. You want to be friendly right?”

The tone of his voice made it clear we were going to be friendly if we wanted to or not. I looked back at Jackie. The look on her face was between worry and curiosity. I knew we had played games where she was helpless with strangers making me watch but this was different, this was real.

Sara walked over to me, she ran her finger along my arm and over my chest. There was a sultry mischief begging for action. She was adjusted to getting her way as she slid her hand down and gripped my crotch.

“Oh baby, you got something I would really enjoy seeing in action.” Her voice almost a dare as she continued her fondling.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked before I lost my nerve.

“There you go tiger.” Chad said. “How about we all sit down and see what kind of an agreement we can come to.”

Jackie and I stood on one side of the makeshift bed as Chad, Steven and Sara took the other side.

To be continued…

Come check out more wickedness at wicked Wednesday

”Wicked

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That hot September afternoon

This is an adult post so if you are not 18 or older leave

That hot September afternoon, the summer held us all in its grip. The sweat running down my back as every muscle was sore and pushed almost as far as possible. The dust hung in the breezeless afternoon as we rested under the tree, sticking to our skin and turning to paste in our mouths with every breath. Work on the fence was almost complete just a few more holes to dig and posts to set before the wire could be run. A dust devil danced and twisted on the dirt road not far behind the rusty old pickup truck, we would be finished by nightfall as I forced myself to get up one more time.

Jamie just laid there watching, the brim of her old ragged baseball hat pulled down over her eyes to keep the sun out. She rocked that country girl look with her button up plaid shirt tied at the midriff and those short cut off jeans that were little more than worn out threads. She was not much help when work was involved but she sure was easy on the eyes. A couple hours later I was done as she proclaimed me the victor of the fence line, well the posts at least. The line we would run tomorrow.harvest_moon

The moon rose over the edge of the field, it was big and reddish orange. That meant it was going to be another hot day tomorrow. Another day of me working in the blistering sun and Jamie watching nearby. I took my shirt out of the cab of the truck and wiped the sweat off my face, probably smearing more dirt and anything else. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked to the back and pulled the recycled milk jug and took several long drinks of the sweet tea that was in it.

“Help me up.” She playfully said

I shot her that crazy look I was known for. I was exhausted from working and now that spoiled brat wanted me to help her off the ground.

“Your legs ain’t broken” I shot back in my southern drawl.

“I’ll make it worth your while.” She said and bit her bottom lip.

I really hated how she would play me, or at least try to. Sometimes I wondered what she would have done if I had just gotten in the truck and left her in the field. Knowing her, she would have waited till her daddy came and found her then I would have gotten in trouble. I had been working for him for several seasons now, he knew we fancied each other but do not think he realized how much. That first year I was just a high school kid for summer help, and she was running around in pigtails and braces. Now years down the road I would work because it was easier to get in shape on the farm than at the gym. Summer break was like a bootcamp to get back into shape and I had definitely felt it this year. The sun turned my skin a deep copper color, my muscles grew, and the fat melted off in the hot summer days. Jamie traded in her pig tails and braces for a ponytail and midriffs. I know she caught me more than once checking her out.

I offered her a hand and pulled her up with enough force to pull her into my arms. Her lithe frame crashed into my body as I held her. Her eyes flashed that fire of a wild crazy girl I knew was in there before she tried to look offended and play at pushing me away. I did not let go this time. This time she looked in my eyes and I could see her look softened; her push lessened as I leaned in. That first kiss was electric in that field under the tree. The first flickers of fireflies were dancing in the field, a lone coyote howled in the distance.

I picked her up and sat her on the tailgate, my lips gazed hers again. I could feel her shudder as I kissed her, when I nibbled on her earlobe, she let out a mew sound. It was a great feeling as I knew she felt the same attraction I did. Nothing was spoken as my hands ran over her body, then slowly untied her shirt. Her soft skin as my lips kissed her all over and slowly down to her shorts. I fumbled with the button on the top then used my teeth to pull the zipper down. Her scent was intoxicating as I slid the shorts down with my hands but never mover my face. That first taste of her nectar was all it took for me to need more. My tongue licked and danced, making sure I covered ever spot and listened to what made her whine the most. When I found that combination I kept going, repeating the same pattern as her back arched and her fingers locked in my hair. Her yelps and moans filled the field till she let out a series of oh god and unintelligible words. I let her calm down as she looked at me with pleading eyes.

“Wha..wha…What just happened?” she finally stammered out.

“I would guess you just and an orgasm.”

“Does it always feel like that?”

“I guess, I don’t really know. Wait you never had that before?”

She shook her head no and even in the dim light I could see her blush.

“Did you like it?”

Her head slowly shook yes, and I could see the fire growing in her eyes as I could tell she wanted more.

Before summer’s end we were like wild rabbits, in the fields, the barn loft, even the old building we found at the edge of the property line. Summer was winding down and I was getting ready to go back to school. As I left I had no idea what I had set in motion, that was the last time I saw Jamie but from what I heard she became a crazed beast.

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The Game

Her blonde pigtails bound with the bright pink bows bounced around her face as she playfully walked toward Chad. Her long slender finger poked him in the chest and drew a heart along the checkered pattern shirt. She turned playfully leaning back and running her hand to the back of his neck in the maneuver.

Trigger warning Rough, forced, adult content. Continued from The Great Adventure

The chime from the gate opening let Chad and Sara know company was coming. It was expected of course, the nice-looking couple had made reservations for a week-long stay at the country retreat. Chad walked in the house to check the CCTV his gaze fixated on the jeep’s slow approach. Watching as it crept along sending up a cloud of dust along the rock driveway. Just as they came to the bend where they would be in sight Chad got up to give them a proper meeting.

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It had been Sara’s idea to turn the family farm into a retreat to make some extra money. Chad was opposed to it at first but warmed up to the idea when she shared her ideas and the advantages it could present. The idea of having strangers freely roaming over the same land he grew up and played on was bothersome at first. It was not until he talked with his lifelong friend Steven that he realized it could be a great idea. The two of them had always been inseparable and even now lived only a mile apart.

Chad greeted the new arrivals and gave them the basic rundown of the place and of course his hand drawn map of the grounds. He had created special romantic trails cut through the place down to the creek and small waterfall, he even made a couple of gazebos for hanging out and letting the day pass by. He left out several personal favorite areas on the grounds, marking them on the map as dangerous areas for visitors to avoid. Areas like the cave he used to play in as a kid and later took his friends to and a few special ladies to. Also the old stone building Steven had found with him when they were teens that eventually it became their unofficial clubhouse. Chad watch the couple get into their jeep and drive to the cabin in the back. While they were on their way, he sent a text to Steven.

“Game on”

“See you tonight” was the reply.

“Hey Sara!” Chad bellowed through the house “Are we supposed to make them dinner tonight?”

Sara swung around the corner one hand on the frame with a lollypop in her mouth and a half smile.

“Nope, they just asked for a basket of fruit for tonight.” She replied

Her blonde pigtails bound with the bright pink bows bounced around her face as she playfully walked toward Chad. Her long slender finger poked him in the chest and drew a heart along the checkered pattern shirt. She turned playfully leaning back and running her hand to the back of his neck in the maneuver.

“You fancy them?”

Chad swallowed hard and felt his pulse racing. Sara was almost a decade younger with her twenty fifth birthday just around the corner, but just as wild and crazy. She knew about the antics of her husband and his best friend; they were the troublemakers that turn into respectable men as far as anyone else knew. She was no fool, she knew their proclivity for getting into trouble was hidden just under that calm appearance.

“How about I relieve some of that tension before you let your ideas out run your thinking babe” Sara said in a playful tone.

She did not wait for the reply and she fell to her knees. Before Chad could move her hands deftly ripped off his belt. With her teeth she slowly lowered the zipper of his pants while never breaking eye contact. Chad’s moans were all the encouragement she needed as his shaft strained against the material. Sara put her hands behind her back and locked her fingers in the belt she used to hold up her skirt. The deft teasing use of her tongue slid the material to expose the tip for Chad’s pleasure and her desire. She worked her magic tongue as Chad grabbed the pigtails and forced himself roughly into her waiting mouth. She knew his mind was still on their new visitors as she made a growling sound that sent a vibration along his shaft. That was all it took for Chad to explode in her hungry mouth, her eyes smiling as she knew how to take care of her man.

The day passed slowly like all hot summer afternoon in the southern states. Chad kept himself occupied with chores around the farm. Sara made a fruit basket to take to the guests and headed down to their cabin that was secluded in the back. After a brief knock she realized they were out exploring the place. Placing the fruit basked on the shaded porch Sara heading along the trails to see if she could observe their new guests and maybe even watch them for a while. No such luck getting a show as they ere just rambling around.

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Sara headed back to the house and walked in the door. As she entered a hand quickly grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth. She had no time to scream as she was pinned against the wall. The hot breath smelled of peaches and moonshine. The dirty old work boot kicked her legs apart, the rough hand snaking under her shirt while calloused fingers grated over her wet slit. She knew fighting him off would be impossible.

“You are such a dirty whore; I can feel you getting wet already.” That unmistakable deep growl of Steven’s voice sent a shudder and thrill along her spine.

His hand ripped her shirt open, buttons clattering across the floor as his hand gripped her throat. The pinch of his thick fingers cutting off the blood to her brain as the room spun. Steven manhandled her like a rag-doll and tossed her bent over a table. Her brain was spinning when she felt the first thrust slam deep in her. Before long he was grunting like an animal and pulled out to let the white streams of his cum land on her ass and skirt. As Sara looked up, she could see the red glow from Chad’s cigarette.

“Did you like the show?” Sara chided as he got up and walked over to them… To be continued

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”Wicked
 

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Kink, SSC, and RACK

In the BDSM world there and many terms and acronyms tossed around, most are self-explanatory. A few are so engrained that they are used with an expectation they are understood even though many outsiders or new people have no idea what the terms really mean. I would like to briefly share my thoughts and ideas on a few of these here. I might go into more detail later but for now here are the broad strokes.

Kink is one of my favorites, at first blush it known to be a sexual thing, but what exactly is kink, or kinky? By definition kink, when applied to a person, is a quirk of character or behavior, a person’s unusual sexual preference. As clear as that sounds it is still rather vague, after all who is to say what is normal or acceptable? It is also easy to get kink and taboo confused. Taboo is something prohibited or restricted by social custom. Not all kink is taboo, and not all taboo is kink though some people would judge other people’s kink as taboo.  Yeah, it gets confusing and can often be seen in many ways, often it depends on how open minded the person is and what the standard of the society there were raised in. In my personally dating past I have had a partner who thought having the lights on was kinky, others have had varying expectations and ideas of what kink was. With so many possible variations communication is the only way to assure you are on the same page with a partner.

In my opinion you should be able to openly communicate with the person you wish to engage with. I get it, sometimes it feels odd or silly explaining what you want or feel. I can assure you it is even worse having a relationship fall apart because you both wanted the same thing but were to afraid to talk about desires. Find a way to make yourself comfortable asking for what you want, practice at the mirror, with a pillow or stuffed animal. It is not always easy to open up, there is that feeling of being exposed when asking for something desired. The fear of rejection or judgment often inhibit the ability to directly ask for what is wanted. The struggle of should we just try and make it happen and hope for the best to just go without till hopefully the partner leads the interaction in that direction. I have found it goes much smoother when you just talk about what you want and desire, then see if you both are a match. The other two options leave it open for a growing resentment and eventual dissolvement of any kind of relationship.

Next there is SSC, with stands for safe, sane and consensual. Each word sounds self-clarifying but what does it mean in the world of kink and in particular, BDSM? Safe is following an acceptable play style that is not meant to bring harm. Light and breakaway bondage, easy off blindfolds and things of that sort, it often comes with a level of trust. Sane is the implication that both parties are in their right mind. They have no issue or reservation with the planned and discussed elements of a scene and all involved are of a sober mind. Finally, there is consensual, with all parties being engaged willingly and without being coerced in some way. It sounds simple enough at first glance, but how are you sure it falls into all categories? Safe requires being educated on the scene being performed, knowing what truly is safe both physically, mentally and psychology for all involved. Past abuse and fear could come into play here, a fear of the dark would make a blindfold a poor choice in some cases. This is where open and honest communication come into play. It could happen that because of the trust level a blindfold would be acceptable despite the normal fear of the dark. The same applies with sane here, sanity in a scene is what the parties agree upon, what limits are there and the trust they will not be violated. That last flowing into the consensual part, everything being agreed to before hand without a sudden change of plan during the scene unless it is to stop the scene. There would be no badgering or pressure to do something new or different.  SSC is often considered the basis of all BDSM scenes, there should be some degree of the SSC model involved.

RACK or risk assessed consensual kink, is what I feel most represents my personal style. It requires open communication and trust, secrets or hidden feelings in this type of play can lead to harm for one or more of the people involved. Most kinky activities involve a degree of risk, from spanking that could form a bruise with a remote possibility of becoming a blood clot to edge play that if performed without properly being educated can lead to permanent injury or even death. Most scenes are not the extreme level, though there could be parts that fall into the category with varying degrees of risk. From wax play that could cause burns to breath play, blade play, bondage, each with their own levels from mild to the extreme styles of play. Most people I know would say RACK is just for the hard or heavy players and I agree for the most part. I am also consciously aware that every form of kink play has a risk, it is just knowing what the risks are. If I am thinking about performing a certain type of risky play to be aware of all that could go wrong and making sure my partner is aware as well. Education is key in RACK play to keep all parties safe.

I said will kept this brief and just touched the highlights of what I thought about each. If you would like to share your ideas or comments, I would appreciate that very much. Thank you for taking the time to stop by and read what I have to say.

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The Great Adventure

We went out and explored some trails and found the waterfall that was on the hand drawn map.

“Remember that trip we took to that remote breathtaking resort? It was breathtaking alright, it looked like something from that ghost town movie.”

“Come on Jackie, how many times do I have to apologize? I still feel bad about that.”

I really did feel bad, it was a week long trip to a secluded retreat camp in the Pennsylvania mountains. The promise of an exciting get away with the option of several exciting challenge courses sounded like just the ticket. I just missed the part that all the spectacular reviews were over a decade old. Jackie and I had always been the outdoorsy type with a love of excitement, sadly time had turned that place into something more like a camp of dismal disrepair.

“Come on Jackie, did you even look at the place I found?”

“Of course, I did!” she said in a huff with a cold glare. “What’s to make it any better than last time?”

“Trust me, plus what happened to your sense of adventure?”

“Fine but if I hear banjos or see a half fallen in building as we drive in, I am leaving”

“Fair enough” I agreed.

A month later we were pulling up to an old swinging cattle gate. The camp sign stood over the entrance like a silent guardian, slightly weathered but still acceptable for a remote camp. The crushing stone sound as we drove in and up to the check in desk did little to help settle down our nerves until we rounded the corner and saw the check-in building. It looked clean and well maintained. I heard Jackie exhale and start to relax. A couple chickens pecked about in a small garden plot near a barn like structure. A couple came out the front to great us, I recognized them from the brochure as the people who ran the place. A quick exchange of greetings and then I had the key to our cabin and a map with an explanation of all the amenities they had to offer.

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Walking in the cabin Jackie gave an approving nod as I brought in our bags. It was clean and had that rustic wooden smell of an infrequently used building but also the smell of cleaners that said it had been kept up for visitors. Jackie walking into the bathroom and let out a gasp.

“Look! It is clean! These is nothing growing in the tub or sink. This is how a place should be.”

“You are never going to let me live that down, are you?” I said with a half joking tone.

“This might redeem you.” She replied with a playful punch to my shoulder.

We went out and explored some trails and found the waterfall that was on the hand drawn map. It was good being out in nature again. The smell of the woods, the feel of shade cool breezes and the sound of the playful water dancing along the rocks. There were the remains of a crumbling stone building, it had a danger sign on the boarded doorway. Dusk was setting in as we headed back to the camp, a distant owl hooted and the sound of the nocturnal animals waking began. We arrived at the cabin as the first stars began to shine bright in the sky, it was breathtaking being out away from the city lights. A bowl of fruit was sitting on the porch with a note if we wanted dinner to come up to the main house. Snacking on the fruit the adventure of the day started to sink in as we decided to call it and get some sleep. It did not take long before we both crashed hard.

My eyes fluttered open, the disorientation of waking up in a strange place took a second to settle out. A trip to the bathroom as my brain caught up with where I was, Jackie was just waking up too. After a Danish and coffee, we were back on the trail. There was a cave on the map I wanted to explore. Jackie was never keen on going underground but she reluctantly agreed. It did not take long to find it. Once we entered, squeezing past the boards that were roughly put up to keep it closed to large animals, it was a perfect escape.

“So, did I find a good place for an adventure?”

“Yeah, I guess. You know these old caves give me the creeps.”

As we pushed in further it opened to a large space. It was easy to tell it had been used as storage or living space before. It was that quiet you only get in a cave, the silence that makes your ears strain and the breathing of the person with you sounds like stormy gusts. Slowly stroking my hand down Jackie’s back made her whole-body shudder. I made no reservations what was on my mind as I pulled her close, pressing my body against her. Hot breath on the nape of her neck as she melted back into my arms. Reaching around I slowly unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall exposing her to the cool air of the cave. Her nipples hard and erect in the dim light from out lamps, aching to be touched and toyed with. I took her hand and led her to a formation that could be used to lay her back on, slowly undressing her as I let my hands caress and explore her flesh. My tongue tracing along all the places she craved to have attention payed to. As I shifted and manipulated her body, I noticed notches in the rock. They would be perfect to tie her to, too perfect as a welling of excitement and dread grew.

“I don’t thing we are the first people to use this rock.”

Jackie gave a perplexed then a wicked smile.

“I wonder what evil things are you thinking? Shall I be your prisoner or sex toy?”

All I could think was that it was going to be an amazing week of adventure and naughty fun.

To be continued…?

Come enjoy the wicked fun

”Wicked
 

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My Negotiation in BDSM

Negotiation in a BDSM scene is something I have been asked about several times. How do I do it? How does it work? What would it look like? I would love to say here you go, this is the formula for a successful negotiation and just remember to follow each step without deviation. It would be neat and easy, just bring a list of expectations and say this is what you must do. If I did that when I negotiated it would be quick fast and easy; as they ran away, probably screaming.


By personal admission I am a Sadist, Top, Dominant, bisexual, polyamorous male. I do enjoy what would be considered vanilla sexual interaction as well. That being said, where I think the negotiation first begins is with attraction. If the attraction is not mutual then nothing would happen anyway so walk away. As the saying goes, there is no use in beating a dead horse.
Next there would be a flirting and getting to know the person phase, we talk and see if we share similar likes and dislikes. A joke or saying here and there to see how the other person reacts. Eventually this can build into more daring and suggestive comments. At this point I determine are we just friends, sexy friends who can have risqué discussions or something more.
Once that threshold of something more is crossed It is time for more personal digging and discussion. Up to this point is looks like typical every day personal interactions evolving into a romantic relationship many people have. Now that that line has been crossed and it is apparent that we can be something more I seek a more private and personal interaction with the person I am interested in.
The one on one comes in various forms, from text to face to face meetings. At this juncture I ask point blank if they have other relationships, not that I mind, I just do not want to be blindsided by a jealous lover. In the same token I would let them know have a primary relationship and have no interest in replacing my primary partner. My primary partner has already been informed about the new person of interest and we have talked about the new person in some depth. At this phase I also discuss in greater depth the likes and dislikes of the person I am interested in as well as sharing my own thoughts and ideas. This is the point most people would consider the negotiation to begin, for me this has all lead up to a point where is an established base to continue from. This of course does not apply to a one-night stand or chance meeting encounter, for the most part those are rare and not the kind of dealings that are generally part of my desired interaction.
Now we have arrived at the part many think of when talking about the negotiation process. The open communication about likes, dislikes, curiosities and desires all spun around till a type of scene or relationship can be agreed on. It is a process that can go quickly or take months or longer to come to a agreed on plan.
What do you like? This question is an open-ended exploration of the other person. The answers range from an extremely specific type of engagement to I do not know, I just want to see what is out there to learn. If they know exactly what they want, and you are comfortable with it then congratulations and move to the planning phase, most often that is not the case. Then I start asking about what I like to see if there is a match. Often I will ask what do you think about (insert type of activity). I expect the yes, no or I am not sure about that, if they still are vague or say I want to try everything I get rather snarky. Everything is a huge list, from as soft and easy as petting, to hard core and full contact forced play. As I tend to be into heavy type play I say I would like to just (fill in the blank at the moment) Normally it is something on the extreme line and often they do a knee jerk oh hell no, that is not what I want to have done. If they still do not know after I have explained a few things I like, then I just walk away. I do not mind teaching or helping someone explore their boundaries but there must be a starting point.
Once there is an established set of boundaries then we set a time and place for a scene. Enjoy as many times as you both wish. Negotiation is knowing what you want and finding someone who wants the same or similar things. It can seem intimidating the first few times but after finding your own style it gets easier. Just remember, if you do not have the same likes then it probably will end in disaster. Also, if they want something you are not comfortable with then express that too, if the other person is insistent you must do or try it then excuse yourself and walk away. It is not worth putting yourself in a situation that you will regret later just to please someone new. Things can change over time as trust builds so negotiation is not just a one time thing but an ongoing process.

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Never Surrender

I am pleased there is a pride month, that is wonderful and amazing. Yesterday I watched the Queen Adam Lambert Story. It really hit home as they talked about Freddie and thought it was not the main point it reminded me of the struggles the LGBT community has and, in many places, still goes through. The things we have endured to be able to publicly come together have been bittersweet victories. The lives lost and destroyed along the way were crushing soul felt blows. Safety was in our hands as we wore whistles or sound making devices just in case some group of “gay bashers” showed up and targeted us. We had to always be on our guard, careful who we told and knew we were bi or gay. It’s the 90’s in the land of BBQ, rock-in-roll and river side fun. The hand full of openly gay clubs were shut down by either police raids for acts of lude behavior or acts of violence that drove patrons away. Firebombs burned a few to the ground and parking lot beatings were not uncommon, after all we were “asking for it” by expressing our desire to openly be who we were.

Most everyone in the community was scared back then, the few that were out and open were always in danger. It was the early days of don’t ask, don’t tell for the military, a huge victory since before that anyone caught engaging in any form of homosexual behavior was kicked out of the service. Back then we did not have the LGBT movement, no laws remotely protecting us against discrimination. For those who reported being assaulted it often meant being branded or targeted. What we now call hate crimes were joked about, the victim often the “punch line” to be made fun of. That what they deserve for being deviants. Gays, bisexuals and Transgender people were grouped in with rapists and pedophiles, all equally sexually deviant according to the general public view at the time.

Back then, I was one of the loud and proud, with my multi-colored rat tail and bright colored underwear under white scrubs. I did not care what people thought and said about me behind my back, I dared them to say it too my face. Flamboyant and ostentatious were often used to describe me, I had an amazing primary male lover in my life and a couple female lovers too. It was a rolling party and the world was my oyster. I was bisexual and proud, open minded and in an open relationship; I was living the dream. Things changed and the dream turned to a nightmare, the jarring cold reality of life slapped me in the face as that relationship ended abruptly. Still loud and proud I looked for places to meet more like myself. Straight bars were good if I was looking for a woman, scoping guys was dangerous there. Gay bars, well that goes without saying except I was still too naive or stupid to hide the fact I was bi, but that is a different story for a different time.

The days of the internet had just started. Chat rooms were coming around and we had a place for anonymity and freedom. Finally, the freedom to talk about what we felt and our personal experiences. Ultimately, a place we could meet and talk about things that we wanted, there was an energy to it, a beginning of a movement. I don’t really remember when I first heard the term LGBT but it had arrived. It was still a turbulent time for anyone in the LGBT community. There were some people trying to find out who the gay or bi people were in the chat rooms. There were a few who would pose as gay or bi, “befriending” people and offering to get together for drinks. It was the new age and style of “gay bashing” as several were people were meeting up hoping to connect with an online “friend” only to be beaten or killed just for being who they were.

I had gone underground, or back in the closet, whatever you wish to call it. I had got married and had a couple kids and played the good American strait male. Not bashing but just a family man in a deep backwards southern town. I felt shame, not for being bi but for running away, I felt I had too much to lose to be engaged in the LGBT movement. It was not till two decades and two failed marriages later that I had another relationship that rekindled my bi side. I had met another like me, coy comments and double meaning phrases were passed between us before on night we found ourselves in a position we were able to take a chance and talk about the tension between us. I could say it was like coming up for air, but really it was like waking up again. Things I held back were finally able to be revisited and openly talked about. I rediscovered the LGBT community in my local area, it took a while for me to make any real connection and I do not fault them. There still are some people that want to hurt us for being open about our sexuality.

Looking back, I have great respect for those who stayed the course and kept in the fight. From Freddie who was center stage, my best friend who was able to be married in Washington DC several years ago to his wonderful partner, to the ones that attend the Pride Parades in whatever city they go to. I still stand by the thinking you do life your way and I will do it my way. I stand with pride alongside my LGBT family as we fight for our rights to be free to live without fear. I have found my voice again and am a loud and proud bi male who will never back down or surrender.

Check out who else is sharing for this #wickedwednesday

”Wicked

Featured

Magic Box

The single light beaming down into Jasmin’s face blinded her from seeing across the table. The hard metal folding chair started to feel like a torture device. Her hands cuffed to a ring under the table forced her to sit up straight as well as prevented her from resting them. The room was a touch warm but not hot enough to sweat with classical music playing in the background.  His voice was monotone as he asked the questions making her even more anxious. She knew he was watching for any tells as he asked each question on the paper before him. Starting with her name, age where she lived, he worked his way methodically down the list.

“Have you ever engaged in any unusual or deviant sexual behavior, or do you plan to in the near future?”

That question jolted her to the core. What was considered unusual or deviant? Her mind raced across the different things her lovers had done with and to her. All of it was exciting to her as she explored her sexual sides. The sudden sliding of pictures across the table made her feel even more exposed. There were images of her bound in various positions, experiencing the joy of embracing her submissive side. The sudden scraping of his chair as it was suddenly pushed back. He walked around the table, little more that a form in shadows as he walked behind her.

“Look at those pictures!” his voice a commanding snarl “Do you feel this type of behavior is appropriate?”

Jasmin shifted in her chair, her mind went back to each scene and the pleasure she got from each one shown. She could feel her nipples getting even harder, that butterfly in the pit of her stomach came alive. His hot breath on the back of her neck as he was right behind her. She began to sweat as her face flushed.

“Well, is it acceptable? Is this the kind of behavior you think is appropriate to engage in?”

“I, I enjoyed what happened in those pictures.” Jasmin stammered.

“I see.” He replied. “What part did you enjoy the most?”

Each picture showed different type scenes, each had been new to her at the time. They all were something she liked. The one in the middle though, she tried to not look directly at it. She remembered the feeling of being naked in the room, kneeling as each hand was tied to her ankle, forcing her to sit up straight and exposing her breast. The bar between her knees keeping her legs forced apart. The way his rough hands explored her body, probing her openings wile all she could do was take it. The pinch of the clams on each nipple, the cold invasion in her pussy and ass when he put the strange looking belt oh her.

“What did you enjoy the most?” he asked again

“The one in the middle.” Jasmin knew better than to lie, he would have found out anyway.

“How interesting.” He said, his voice still steady even though his breathing had sped up. “Would you like that again? To be exposed and used?”

Her voice just above a whisper as she replied “Yes”

There was no time for her to react as he uncuffed her. Jasmin could feel herself offering no resistance as he manhandled her. Being picked up and laid on the table before she was secured to it. Her legs quickly bound then her wrists tied to her ankles again. A small stand was placed under her head because it otherwise would lean off the end of the table. In just a few quick minutes Jasmin was tied to the table with the pictures under her. Their uneven feeling over the smooth surface added to her feeling exposed. Then the magic box, she could see the cold metal inserts as he walked closer, the wires attached to the box. She shuddered as he pushed them in. A final touch as he added a blindfold, she could only hear and feel everything. A click and the light pulsing began.

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Jasmin lay there as the man adjusted the dials, the speed and intensity of the little shock running into her pussy and over the clit causing them to spasm till she arched without warning. The wave of pleasure took her by surprise.

“Now it is time for you to ride the wave” he said with a sinister tone.

A tweak to the settings and Jasmin felt her whole body tense, this was beyond words. The never-ending intense peak of an orgasm. She could hear him counting but it was like a far away sound. Then a click and her body collapsed. He chuckled as she whimpered.

“I told you that I could make you experience an unrelenting orgasm.” His voice almost triumphant. “I just needed you to pick which point we would start from. Now five, four three two, one.”

A click and he turned the machine back on. Jasmin jerked and arched suddenly; the peak of pleasure rushed through her body as he left it on the setting. The world started to blur more and more the longer he left it on. Sweat covered her flesh as he watched. Her muscles tight and shaking as there was no end. He flipped the switch off, she collapsed in total exhaustion. She half expected some smoldering effect from her body as he unhooked her. Taking off the blindfold she could see his smile like a proud cat that caught the bird.

“You did great Jasmin, you made it to the two minute mark.”

“Two minutes? That was just two minutes?”

“I told you, the box is a magic time machine. Now next time we will try something a bit different” he said with a wink and looked over toward the St Andrews cross.

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Come see who else is being wicked this week

 

”Wicked
 

Featured

I think

This week’s topic is feminism, I feel like the least qualified to speak to this issue. I can say so many forms of it have been presented that is gets a bit dizzying after a while. Do I think women should vote and have the same say as men? Yes, I do. Do I think women should be paid the same as men for the same job? Definitely they should be. Do I think just because a company has reached a certain level, they should be mandates to have a woman doing a particular job? No, I do not.

I might be old fashioned, behind the times or some other team for us dinosaurs still walking. I think if a job requires a certain level of mental, physical or emotional strength it should be given to the person that is most able to do it efficiently and effectively. I believe in blind merit testing, not race, gender or orientation being allowed to influence to outcome. Does that person possess the skills, capability or strength to fill the job requirements, as they were originally written? This whole lowering the standards to fulfill some gender quota like has happened in the military is an injustice to the people that came before, especially the women. Those women that went before and earned it with their sweat, blood, tears and sometimes their life.

I will keep this brief. I am aware there are more issues at play, many more topics that feminism covers but as I said, I feel I am the least qualified to speak on this topic Women should have the right to vote. Women should have the right to work alongside men without harassment. Women should be able to do any job they are qualified for. Women should have access to the same level of medical treatment as men do. When it is all said and done, women should be able to have the same equality as men. It is past time for that to become a reality.

”Wicked
 

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Truth be told

Truth be told, I despise the cold, the chill to the bone that makes me feel old

Frozen in place hands over my face, I see the scene now set in place

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Polaroids spread on the table, the rope slung high in the stable

Under the pictures a silver disk, on it written she really wanted this

The camera still on the pod as I put it in, a flicker then the show begins

Arms tied and held over her head, unkept hair draped down the head

Bedraggled locks falling over her face, pictures frozen in time locked in place

The expression torn from time, that look of anticipation or sublime

Red flesh from heavy hands show clear, his game of pleasure and fear

She was just his toy along for the ride, his canvas to display with pride

Another picture showing the thick hand, she is no match for this powerful man

Her lithe body a plaything for his desire, that look in her eyes is a burning fire

Pulled close to his face she can feel his hot breath, a kiss that is taken at his behest

She could only struggle and fight in place, he had control in this dank place

The smell of hay in the old stall she was held in, his paradise to enjoy again

A nook that opened with a flip on the latch, implements hung for use inside that

A shiver had to have run along her spine, his fingers touching her so divine

The bench perfectly set in place, bent over and fastened in the space

Shuffling around the photos seeing what was done, seeing as she came undone

The flogger licking her flesh that glowed bright, such a sweet beautiful sight

I can imagine the sounds of her gasps echoing, his work undisturbed harrowing

On her toes as her body strains and writhes, the waves of pleasure crashes and subsides

His fingers rough now explore her wetness, her face flush, her thoughts anyone guess

A thrust as she shrieks at the sudden invasion, cold floods her from his creation

Glass toy left in a bucket of cold water, to cool the heat which he brought her

Parched lips now wetted from his finger, the taste of her wetness now lingers

The straw offered tastes of sweet juice as she sips, the cold fades inside her lips

A minute for her to recoup her composure, now again his hands take over

His hands grip hard into the tender flesh, rubbing and kneading her tender ass

No warning as the implement is quickly pulled out, hollow inside as she thrashes about

She whimpers and begs for him to take her, his hand strikes hard as he spanks her

Howls and shrieks as she was unprepared, everything his plan carefully prepared

The tempo staccato as his hand works feverishly, her ache now a burning need

Begging and pleading her voice now his song as the rhythm goes along

One hand working over her bright red flesh, the over exploring her slippery wetness

Over the edge in a crashing cascade she explodes, pent up need suddenly unloads

Milking every moment of ecstasy as she shakes, his mind inventory now takes

The rope appears and is lashed around a breast, she gasps, he works fast

Then another, her breast bound as he smiles, he had a plan all the while

A clothes pin snaps and she shudders as words like smacks he utters

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Each clip fastened she arches off the bench more, now untied with feet on the floor

Again, her hands are bound over her head, he stands back as she watches in dread

Flicking and playing with the rowel on the wheel, she ached to know how it would feel

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First a special touch for his evil plan, a bar to keep her feet apart as she would stand

Exposed to him, she was totally at his mercy, her cries brought him such glee

Each breast now felt the bite of the wheel, no words for what she should feel

Now she was lost in a world so surreal, she was his toy the images revealed

A blindfold next he used to cover her eyes, now everything would be a surprise

Unable to look away as he took her like a savage man, I knew this was part of his plan

Her anticipation as his moved his things around, gaging her reaction to each sound

The sound of the blade sent a chill over her skin, his hot breath as he said shall we begin

That moan as his hand slid along her chest, his hand on her throat she leaned back to rest

Teasing her body, sliding it over her skin, the cold steel on hot flesh a gasp I took in

Sliding between her thighs as his lips caressed down her spin, he growled and said you are mine

I jumped as I saw him raise quickly, she wailed as he plunged the handle to fill her need

He invaded her with the rough handle holding the blade, that look of pleasure on display

On her toes she was primal and screaming, I could not stop watching what was streaming

Pulling the handle out he tossed it to the floor, in a single thrust she was begging for more

Savage animal lust as he painted her skin, his red prints on her breast as she was full of him

His hand on her throat as he grunted and thrust, both lost in primal lust

The crimson running down over she soft flesh, my eyes fixated on what came next

A beastly roar as he unleashed his pent-up need, she shook as he used her in his greed

Holding tight for a minute he finally relaxed, then took her down and laid her on the sack

Cuddling her his hand running through her hair, it was just the two of them without a care

As the flicker turned to static there was a shock, need took over as I shook

A shower nearby I needed to take a moment to cool down, before I headed back to town

Turning the water on it was cold as ice, I took a deep breath and washed off my vice

Truth be told I hate the cold, but the film I had just watch made me feel nothing but bold.

Come see who else is being wicked

”Wicked
 

Featured

A Careful look

Look carefully. Closer. Come on don’t you see it? The window to the bottom left. Yes there. See her face? Doesn’t she look like she is trying to get your attention? Oh My god Sam, how can you be so daft?

The words rang in my head as I walked down the hall. It was a simple assignment for the photography class. Now one of the pictures I took, who knows where, shows what appears to be a woman in distress. I feel a twinge of guilt and a since of foreboding, a need to find and help her if I can. Walking along the path I took before I feel different, no longer struck by the architecture or beauty. I am trying to pinpoint the place of potential darkness, a house of horror, a den of iniquity.

Cutting around the corner of 7th street I start to take it all in, that carefree morning with me whipping my camera around. The coffee shop, that decadent aroma of the pastries wafting out the doorway. The chirping of birds and cooing of pigeons, lifting the camera I try to remember where I aimlessly wandered next. There down that alleyway, the one with the twisted stop sign. The smell of urine and trash, the almost tangible feel of human desperation. A crash and I lower my camera, the stray scurries off in a hurry hissing and spitting for me disturbing its hiding place. Suddenly I feel aware of everything around.

There, that is the next turn, behind that fence, down that row between the crumbling houses. Yes, the couple flowers that once stood proud in defiance of the concrete, now they are trampled from foot traffic. The store on the corner with fruit stand sitting empty out front, the closed sign and a chain on the door. That feeling of wishing I could get inside and explore the urban ruin. See what there was to discover. Out of habit I peer in through the first window. I wonder what stories and secrets this building could tell. Turning left I continue, orange barrels on the road, caution tape dangles in the breeze around the piles of rubble. The old homes knocked down in the name of progress, gentrification is creeping in like slithering tendrils, the face of the neighborhood being carved into something different.

The ditch I crossed walking on the makeshift bridge of pipes and plywood. The small fish playing in the pool below, trapped in their own world, maybe for the best. They would be quickly devoured in the city park lake with all the bigger fish that wait for a morsel to snap up. There, yes that way, the brick stands out. A mix and match of bricks put together like some art deco attempt for the building’s esthetics, I am here. My heart is racing as I look at the building, looking for the window. I do not see it. Looking back at the picture I check again. Looking and studying I draw closer to where it should be. Still I do not see the opening where the desperate face appeared. I almost missed it; fresh mortar sun dried but still not tainted by the filth of the area is barely noticeable. The brick perfectly cut to hide the once window.

My mind racing as I walk around looking for an entrance. I feel a shudder of apprehension as the old door screeches like an old woman wailing. The flicker of light from a few open doors along the hall provides the only illumination. Bulbs long burned out dangle from the walls and ceiling like claws reaching out. A sound at the end of the hall, glowing eyes peering back. My flashlight not strong enough to reach through the darkness as I strain to make out what is focused on me. With camera in hand I decide this is the only way to know. A bright flash of light turns the darkness into daylight for a moment. My eyes try to recover as I look at the screen of my camera. A head on a table, the hair flowing over the side. A blank stare from the open eyes, the makeup is perfect. The skin pale as moonlight cast through a window. The table covered in cans and wrappers, bottles and trash litter the hall. I feel the need to run growing as the desire to explore pulls me further in.

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Shhhh, the sound causes me to freeze. My ears ache listening for a sound, my eyes straining to see everything they can. Reaching the table my mind spinning from thoughts and ideas, scenarios play over in my head. Now I wonder if I will be found. Shhhh again. The door in front of me cracked open. My best guess is that it would be the place that housed the woman in the picture. My hand shaking as I push it open.

An explosion of dust and movement, heads, arms and other body parts cascade from the ceiling. Rational thinking has left the building as well as my mind. I trip over an arm, face first crashing on the floor. My head now swimming as the room spins and seems to fade. My thoughts drift between horror and desperation flowing into inky nothing.

 

I can’t move as fear has frozen every part of my being. A shuffling sound behind me, the sudden pain of a stun stick. The shadowy figure now looming over me, reaching down the smell of dirt and filth as it pulls me down the hall. Being tossed out of a side dock door I fall crashing to the ground. The figure looming overhead. I can see it now, a man. The old green jacket, tattered but still recognizable, the face haggard by time, one of the lost and forgotten.

“Get away from my home.” His voice aged but stern “Leave me and my girls alone you pervert. The are mine you hear? Next time I catch you snooping around here I won’t be so nice, now get!”

I staggered to my feet. Still trying to grasp what had happened. The old building’s sign gave me a clue to at least part of the question as it boasted home of the manikin factory. As for the old man, the woman in the window, this whole excursion seemed to bring me more questions than answers.

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One to one

“The odds are, there is a good chance, one in five, twenty percent, these figures keep spinning like tiny whirlwinds threatening from afar. We hear these statistics, try to process and gasp when they are high enough to pose a threat. Shrink back when something is appalling to our sensibilities, lash out when it pertains to social injustice. Truth be told to most of us, they are just numbers though. Often researched, the figures are tossed out to give a tangibility to some event or condition around us. It does not become real till we are the one in five, or part of the twenty percent.”

Normally by this point my brain would have switched to autopilot in my psych class but the Greg was striking. Grey eyes that seemed wise beyond his years and a voice that dripped with primal seduction. A confidence without being cocky radiated as he taught the lesson. Occasionally, he would push those couple stray hairs out of his eyes and give a look around the room. Each time I could feel his eyes land on me as I was listening intently. I was glad I had signed up for the night class even though I had to rush from my day job to make it on time.

“Okay everyone I can see a few glazed eyes let’s take a fifteen-minute break and stretch.”

There was a mutter in the room, those who smoked raced outside to get their puffs in, some headed for the bathroom and others for the vending machines. I sat there looking over my haphazard notes while Greg sat at the small desk overlooking the room. He cleared his throat and picked up a stack of papers tapping them on the desk into neat pile. I was looking off blankly at nothing, when I realized I had been staring at him, as I focused my vision, I could feel his eyes on me. I felt my face suddenly flush and I swore I caught a slight smile or smirk on his face.

The rest of class was a wash while my mind was still stuck in that moment He could have been talking about the lunar landing or something fascinating, but I just could not get my mind to focus. As he spoke, I took note of his lips and thought how much I wanted to feel them. As his hands gestured while he talked, I could only think how good they would feel caressing my skin.  When he pushed his hair aside, I wanted to be the one pushing it out of his eyes as we were locked in a long passionate kiss.

Class ended, he made his customary assignment announcement followed by his being available for questions for a while after class. Majority of the class shuffled off to their cars and left to whatever lives they had with a handful staying behind. I stood back taking in the questions and how he interacted with the other students. I had questions too, ones that burned deep in my mind, but they had little to do with the class. As I waited the rest of the students shuffled off and it was just the two of us.

“I don’t mean to be rude but I am starving, would you mind us taking your question to the restaurant across the street as we speak?”

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“Su..sure” I stammered.

I swear he smirked again as I followed once I gathered my book. The small restaurant was a twenty-four-hour dinner. Decent food and coffee for those night owls or zombies of the second and third shifts, it was a haven in the otherwise closed for the night town. Once we ordered he sat three gazing across the table as me, his now captive one on one audience. I felt my words failing and sweat forming. I excused myself to the bathroom and all but bolted to the small bathroom. Splashing water on my face this was unlike me, I was confidant and often called brazen, but here I felt like a schoolboy unsure of how to proceed.

I did not hear the door open as I was wiping my face dry. I froze as I felt hot breath on the back of my neck.

“Unless I am wrong you had more than just class you wanted to ask about.”

I simply replied with an affirming head nod as his lips touched the back of my neck. His hands wasted no time in running under my shirt and caressing my skin. I turned to face him as we kissed. I could forgive the wintergreen flavor from his gum as his tongue slowly caressed and parted my lips. He never closed his eyes as we kissed, I could not close mine because I wanted to take in every moment. When we broke from the kiss I dropped to my knees, half dizzy half out of raging desire that would not be denied. Deftly unzipping his pants with my teeth as my hands groped his ass and legs, I felt the rush seeing him restrained by only a thin piece of fabric. The moisture of his precum already soaking through the white cloth. Working the head with my teeth through the fabric he moaned softly.

Moments later he was free, and my mouth had engulfed the head, my tongue dancing and caressing the sensitive head. The salty taste was intoxicating as my hand now worked to free him and cup his soft balls. My low growl as he moaned was all he could take. Without warning he grabbed the back of my head and pushed to the back of my throat. I opened and accommodated as best I could while his release now flooded my mouth. I looked at his eyes and knew he was more than pleased. We got him cleaned up and ate the food that had just arrived quickly. Next stop was his place as we forgot the facts and figures from class and focused on the simple one to one equation.

Come see what other wickedness is being shared

”Wicked
 

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Greg

Greg was rather proud of himself for his ingenious idea on how he pulled it off.
“It was all fantasy” Sandy said, her voice trembling as his wicked smile grew even bigger “Just a game to help get us both off with.”

Trigger warning as is common with most of my blogs, This post is a continuation of last weeks wicked Wednesday. Hope you enjoy.

Greg sneered as he walked over to the bench. As his thick hands fiddled with the bench, he turned and looked back at Sandy, he could see her sweating in nervous anticipation. It had slowly been planned from the first personality he had presented to her, a plan he gradually let play out till he got enough information to make it happen. He always got excited hearing her fantasies and how many wicked things she wanted to happen to her. Each session she would end by saying, of course this is just fantasy because it could never happen, right? Everything was possible but not all were practical. The hardest part was her desire to be kidnapped by a total stranger.

warehouse
Lights illuminate the arched windows of an abandoned building next to puddles in the mud.

Greg was rather proud of himself for his ingenious idea on how he pulled it off. He was worried the kidnapping part would fail and he would have to skedaddle or worse, get in caught and arrested. Setting up his den of sin, as he called it when describing the empty building to her, was easy by compare. Five years of preparation went into his plan, saved emails and conversations. Greg’s favorite part were the pictures she would send. Some were of her trying to make herself look like a damsel in distress, others were pictures she sent him, everything she sent was saved. Greg smiled as he turned on the projector and the pictures began to beam onto the white wall near the arranged devices of torment.

Sandy gasped as the opening was a picture taken long ago, it was a naughty girl’s only party where she had been handcuffed, gagged and made to look helpless and at the mercy of anyone there. Her eyes scanned the small tables he was preparing, assorted paddles and impact devices were on display at one supposed station. Another table held electric devices, a violet wand, electric stimulation unit, even what looked like a Hitachi wand with some built in shocking head aptly named the Zeus. The krewe de gras in the center was a device of Greg’s own making, a harness type table Sandy could be secured to and manipulated in any position he wished. Built in total secrecy, it was a one of a kind made just for Sandy.

He walked over to where she was tied, Sandy struggled against her bonds as his hand slid along the outside of her arm.

“Now, now my dear, I am sure you know what all I have planned for you. After all we have spoken in great depth about all the things you have wanted to try but were too scared to tell anyone, well anyone you knew in real life.”

“It was all fantasy” Sandy said, her voice trembling as his wicked smile grew even bigger “Just a game to help get us both off with.”

“That was all just foreplay my dear, now this is the main event. Time to pay the piper I would say. Or do you prefer put up or shut up?” Greg’s voice suddenly dark and ominous “Of course I will allow you a safe word if things get over your head. It is one you told me was your favorite a while back, just say it and that part of your evening will end and we will move on.”

Sandy’s mind raced as she tried to think of what safe word he was talking about. Before her mind could fix on any one word his rough hands grabbed her and he stood her up. His hot breath in her face as he manhandled her to the bench and forcefully strapped her down. A pair of scissors made quick work of her clothing as he cut away, leaving her nude and exposed to him. As her mind tried to comprehend what was happening, she could see the impact items laid out as he fingered each one lovingly. His hand rested on a small leather paddle. It had a kind of fur on one side and the other was raised knobs like the back of decorative furniture tacks. It looked like a toy in his big hands as he picked it up. A push of the button and music started to play. Some of the featured tracks he had come to enjoy listening to as they chatted online about her desires. The first few hit were so light it almost made Sandy think he was losing his nerve. The fur really felt nice and tickled a little on her skin. Gradually they became firmer and with the tempo of the music. The heavy base thumped as the paddle landed over and over, the intensity and warm feeling in her exposed ass grew. Before long, her head felt like she was in a different world, she had all but forgotten her dire situation as Greg had made her tender bum hot and red. He ran his hand along her well warmed ass a few times. Caressing and cupping her beautiful flesh.

“Such a naught little girl, I see you have become aroused.”

Sandy felt ashamed for a moment then it passed quickly as she felt a cold metal device being inserted into her dripping wetness. Some form of harness held it in place as he pushed a button and a tingle ran though her. He laughed as he set the electric pulses to the beat of the music. Picking up a flogger he began to take his time to match the tempo. Sandy’s eyes glazed over as she could not fight back the growing wave that was beginning to crest inside her. Her yelp of pleasure as the wave crashed over her echoed off the wall.

Greg stopped the flogging and turned off the device. Sandy was a drooling mess as he laughed. There was the sound of a door slamming shut and someone in a security guard uniform walked in. Sandy was saved! Greg backed up and set down the flogger. For a moment she expected him to run.

“What are you doing sir?” the young man demanded from across the room

“Good sir this is my warehouse and you are trespassing.” Greg said firmly

“What kind of freak show is going on here? Ma’am are you, all right?”

Sandy wasn’t sure, her mind wanted to scream she had been kidnapped but her body was begging for more.

“I..I… I am fine sir.” Sandy caved as her desire won over her common since.

“Well good,” the young man said, “Hope you don’t mind me staying and watching, you never know when you will need a third person for things like this.”

Greg smiled as the two embraced. “I told you she would break easily Sam.”

”Wicked
 

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I am Disgusted

I am disgusted, enraged, revolted and otherwise just outright ashamed at the recent events in the kink blogging community. I will not be naming names or calling people out, I am seething, waiting for the childish hateful attacks to stop. If someone’s feeling or ego are so fragile they shatter like glass over a post that they took in a way so few have, then maybe they might want to look closer at their own self and do some soul searching. I am all for supporting friends and acquaintances but not at the cost of being divisive in our community that is already under heavy scrutiny and disdain from much of society.

These recent activities I have witnessed seem more like a pack of coyotes trying to take down prey rather than an honest mistake or blatant attack on the person or group that claims to have been wronged. To claim that someone apology was disingenuine or just for show will never allow them to ever be able to make amends. It is a militant mindset that disavow someone’s apology while constantly escalating till only their opinion is being touted loud and clear as if it is the only correct view.

It is disheartening to watch as bloggers that have supported and worked together for years now take sides. Suddenly there are lines in the sand, people that we are not supposed to talk or associate with. What happened to my kink is my kink and I can support others even if it is not my thing? Together we are a powerful force to be reckoned with, divided there will be infighting till only ashes of a once thriving community existed. As kink bloggers will we allow this to happen? I know tensions are high with all that is going on in the world, but people wake up, put aside the petty differences and allow an apology to be accepted. I consider those who will not accept an apology as the aggressor and danger to the community. The person/s trying to cause the fractures are a plague and the covid-19 of the blogging world.

For now, I will continue to blog what I feel like, write what I want to write. Participate where I enjoy participating and share what I feel like sharing. It is ok if you do not agree with me. There is a reason Baskin Robbins had 42 flavors, because we are all individuals and our likes vary. I will encourage everyone to stop and think how they would feel if suddenly they were under the same level of attack. Just be you, accept we are all different. Education is fine and disagreements will happen, but we are part of a big, fun great and often dysfunctional family. It’s time to stop bashing and start building one another up.

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Sandy

His was fedora tipped down; the long trench coat kissed by the fog glistening in the early morning streetlights. As he pulled in the open door at the warehouse Sandy started to freak out.

{{{Before you enter this realm I should advise you that anything I write will trigger someone. So with that out of the way you may now proceed and read at your own risk}}}

His was fedora tipped down; the long trench coat kissed by the fog glistening in the early morning streetlights. Just for a moment taking it all in, the earie quiet of the predawn streets that was Greg’s world. He was going to follow through with the idea knowing he was going to get his hands dirty, just how dirty was up to him. The clicking of the stilettos on the sidewalk as another working girl rounded the corner. Her blonde hair still mostly in place as she spied the shadowy figure watching her. Her brazen attitude as she approached made Greg sweat and his hands tremble.

“Hey baby, I’m about to get off but I can get you off before I call it a night.” Her high pitch Brooklyn accent was like nails on a chalkboard.

His deep gravelly voice answered her “No thanks”

She turned in a huff and walked into the old hotel. Her red sequin dress and short black skirt flashing in the few dim lights. The scream of a cat and a trash can falls over caught Greg’s attention. He walked the four blocks toward the dinner. Huge plate glass windows beaming light into the world around them like a display for all to see. A couple dock workers sitting there eating as they were either getting ready for the day or finishing up a night. It always made Greg chuckle how it was like watching a play about humanity. He took a seat on the bench watching the show.

The obnoxiously bright pink uniform came into sight. The shirt unbuttoned too low, the skirt too high as she talked and flirted with the men there. He didn’t have to hear; he knew the basics of the conversation all too well. She was flirting and working hoping for a good tip, they were hoping she would finally say yes and let them “enjoy their company”. Soon they would get up and leave, she would pick up their dishes and the couple crumpled bills from the table.

The horizon was starting to glow as the hues of morning began to paint the sky. The rumble of the old bus as it came down the dingy road belching smoke was on time as always. Greg watched as the brunette got off and walked into the diner. Greg got up and followed her in. She sat down in her usual spot as he approached.

“Excuse me, are you Sandy?”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she shot back with a sternly

Greg reached in his coat and pulled out the papers he had been carrying. Half dropping them on the table for effect she looked at the top sheet with her name on it. The following pages were copies of her correspondence with various people. She fumbled through them, hot lurid conversations that ended suddenly every time.

“Where, how did you get these?” her face now in shock as her voice cracked.

“I think you need to come with me and answer some questions at the station. Every name in those conversations has disappeared suddenly except for you. There are a few questions about their sudden disappearance and your involvement with them that need to be answered. Now you can come peacefully or…” Greg added to his intimidation by pulling out handcuffs from behind his back.

Sandy agreed to cooperate and walked out the door with Greg. He led her around to the dimly lit parking lot then opened the door for her to get in the back. Before she could get in, he forced her to against the car and cuffed her hands behind her back. Pushing her into the back seat she tried to fight him off, but it was no use. She was now trapped. He started the engine and as it roared to life the radio came on, it was playing one of Sandy’s favorite songs.

She was shaken as he looked at her in the mirror. He smiled, so far everything had gone as planned. As he pulled out into the empty street and headed toward the warehouse he had set up. Now was the time for all his work to finally pay off.

“So Sandy, all those men; twelve in all, were talking to you about some really racy things. I am shocked a woman like you would be so bold as to tell them the things you said.”

“We were having fun; it was a game.” She replied her voice shaking

“Baseball is a game, monopoly is a game, hell even football is a game. This, what you were talking about is something very different.”

Had Sandy not been so scared she would have caught on this was a game too. Greg was listing off games she had said she liked. The song playing was the one she said was her favorite. He had set it all up for her perfect fantasy that she had talked about with all those “men”. As he pulled in the open door at the warehouse Sandy started to freak out.

“No, wait. No, this can’t be happening. Who are you?”

warehouse

Greg pushed the button and the door behind them closed with a light coming on in the building. There were several areas with torture looking tables and devices to use. It was obvious Greg’s silence was adding to her unsettled feelings.

“Please, what are you planning to do to me?”

Greg put on the hood she should recognize and turned back toward her “Everything you talked about and more. See little bird those men aren’t missing; it was me all along and I am here for you as your wicked date begins”

Sandy felt a mix of nausea, fear and a strange rush of excitement as he got out and started setting up. Letting the anticipation grow as Sandy watched. She realized how much energy he had put in, now she was trapped at his mercy as he was about to push her to her breaking point through all the twists and turns she had shared with the various versions of Greg.

”Wicked
 

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In Lockdown

My mind hazy as to how I got here, I remember the bar. Drinks flowing and music thumping so hard I could feel it in my bones. That redhead that came up boldly asking if I was the kind of man to buy a strange woman a drink

The slow scraping sound coming down the hall sent a chill along my spine. One small bulb secured to the wall faintly illuminating the small cube of a room. A small bunk with a filthy mattress flopped on it, had seen much use and added to the rank odor to the room. The metal toilet and sink combination only feet away. The air stale and damp, the smell of lost hope and desperation clung like an oily residue. The walls pealing their grey layers of paint revealing a metal bulkhead underneath. Another scraping sound only much closer from outside the room.

My mind hazy as to how I got here, I remember the bar. Drinks flowing and music thumping so hard I could feel it in my bones. That redhead that came up boldly asking if I was the kind of man to buy a strange woman a drink. Of course I was, and did. A couple hours later we were in her hotel room. I remember undressing her slowly, taking my time as she tried to rush me. Her need to feel needed and wanted ablaze. My hands all over her flesh my teeth grazed and my lips planting kisses. Her flesh so pale it glowed in the night air as we made slow love on the balcony. The light of the full moon bathing us both while we were intertwined, the world melt away in an explosion of pleasure. Kissing her neck as her body arched, her cried carried on the night breeze. Her green eyes opening with a soft sweet smile that turned to a blank stare. Excruciating pain seared through my flesh as the world disappeared into nothingness.

A sudden scrape and a flap opened. A tray was shoved in with what appeared to be some type of paste looking goop on it. The greasy scent just added to the disgusting feel of the room. A voice outside, mechanical in nature crackled like from a half working drive through speaker.

“Another subject from investigation 382 is now awake and aware. Food supplement offered to subject. Observation of social and mating ritual with drone model a success in capturing a heathy male specimen. Further testing will be required to see what category the subject will best be placed in. Because of potential of contamination it will be kept in isolation till full results of testing are completed.

Subject 8725, after you have consumed the meal given to you please place the meal container back at the portal it entered through. After you have eaten knock on the wall over the portal, an assistant will take you to the medical testing and processing area. You have one hour to comply.”

A scraping sound as I looked at what “meal” was left behind. What was happening? Had I just lost my mind and this was all some part of a psychotic dream? The food was little more than paste. It smelled much like the dog food I remember giving to my pet when I was a kid. A taste and I was banging on the wall. Several minutes later a blue glow lit along the edges of what I could only assume was a door. A hissing sound as the door opened and there she stood, the woman I had a memory of on the balcony. She smiled and held out her hand.

“Come with me, please.”

Suddenly I was aware of my nudity as she was unclothed as well. If this was some kind of crazy dream I was definitely aroused. As she turned I felt even more exposed as her hand grazed my side. I could feel my face flush as she looked down and gave a slight smile.

“There is nothing to be concerned about. You simply need to be examined and processed. Failure to comply will result in a longer time in quarantine.”

I followed feeling more like a lamb to the slaughter than a person anymore. We passed many more doors before entering into a larger area. A line of men all ages and races with a copy of the same woman who was with me. I looked on in shock.

“I can since your apprehension, I am a collection droid. Apparently a very successful one for your species as you can tell by this batch of subjects.”

“Subjects for what?”

“All I can inform you is that your system was placed into quarantine several of what you would call millennium ago. The exact records as to why have been lost. We are here to access the potential of your species.”

“Potential?”

“Yes, if you are suitable for combat, a workforce or simply, a farm planet that was to be harvested as a later time.”

A shudder ran along my spine at that last suggestion. The thought of humanity not being alone in the universe was scary enough but the potential now I was faced with was even more unsettling. The hue of the room changed from a soft blue to a vibrant orange. A piercing shrill sound sent me to my knees. Holding my hand over my ears I looked up at the drone as it reached down and took my wrist before I passed out. I felt the drone dragging me back to the cell.

I came too as the drone sat on the bed watching.

”Wicked
 

“It seems there is an issue with the processing station. For now, you must remain here in lockdown till the malfunction is over. I shall remain to keep you company.”