Violently Sexy

Can something be violently sexy? This one is R-Rated. No really, it was a little too risqué for some sites that I contribute writing to. It's a little sex and violence and in the midnight hour such things never hurt anyone. Needless to say... there's nothing more interesting than someone reading my older work and being inspired by it. I'm simply awe-striken that anyone would take the time to pilfer among the older stories. Well, here is one of my darker inventions. If you don't like death or murderous fiction... I'll insist it's a pass. I was intrigued once by the darker human elements. A few of my favorite fellows nowadays insist I give it up, and I do find less time for it, but I can manage a few minutes here and there.

Enjoi?!

Kisses, m. 

Between my legs

(12-9-09)

Between my legs. Lies a hope for the future. Safety. Love. My insecurity? The reason he strayed is between her legs. The reason I stay is between mine. Infidelities he shouldn't have. We're both crying. Both aching. Knowing it’s too damn hard to watch him leave each time. Welcoming him back into my arms despite these flaws. Into the warmth, the depths where he’d linger too long. Falling and fading quickly, taking me down with him. Consumed by desire. A dark desire that is delicately hidden but ever so welcoming. Watching him savor the taste like drinking a hearty pinot noir as the flavor deepens into a meaningful experience. An exceptional wine, meant to be slowly enjoyed down to every drop.

Disappointment. My weakness. Inadequacies as a female. The one thing that sells you short as a woman is there between your legs. Never being taken seriously. As a woman it will keep you weak if you choose. Deprive you of love if you let it. Or allow the true nature within to become empowered by it. Controlled. Demanding. Eve in the Garden of Eden with that convincing apple. Damned is the man that believes he is manipulating a woman. A woman is a cool calculating creature never to be trusted or taken lightly despite what lies between her legs.

Waiting for him to return one more time. Deep down knowing that the game never changes, yet I’ve been foolish enough to continue this way. Sitting carefully, naked in the cold dark kitchen at the small table I trace my fingers carefully along the Formica surface. My bare skin is alive with the anticipation of his return. Element of surprise. It is my very intention to seduce and distract. The pressure of cool metal steel is nestled against the inside of my thigh as I wait. Looking down I can see the invention of death between my legs. Just as I continue to think he hasn’t returned soon enough the front door moves. Quickly my hand reaches in pushing aside the revolver where his eyes can not see. Nothing but my smile and open invitation.

Carefully the dark room masks his face as he moves closer to me. Only his eyes are visible as he makes his way forward. From the looks of it, he’s quite pleased to find me unclothed and honest. Standing over me his hands reach down into my hair and along my neck. An extraordinarily hard kiss as he makes an effort to lean in. The roughness of the moment is intoxicating as his grabbing hands continue to trail along my bare skin. Hands around my hips and in the small of my back as lips move downward, tracing their way from neck to breasts, then further. My ambitious efforts have me fumbling through his clothing, unclasping and removing, as he advances. As he reaches my navel I continue to reassure him by gently stroking his hair; beautiful hair, dark, thick and lush. Head movements find a balance as he nears my thighs. Tug at the back of his head to make eye contact. Lifting eyes meet mine in a piercing stare. Shh! He calms me with a smile before reaching between my legs.

Slowly I part my legs further and give way. Sliding the gun out from its hidden place, ever so silently, with a scoot of my thigh. Removing the cold steel instrument of death as he bends forward to kiss the inside of my thigh. Lips continue to softly caress my inner thigh as his hands come around to circle my hips and pull forward. Silently I find a place beneath his temple. Bare. Visible to my aim. Rocking my hips forward to meet his increasing movements, with my target in sight, I squeeze the trigger tenderly releasing death. Between my legs.

La Doleur Exquise

La Doleur Exquise is the name of one of my favorite Sex and the City episodes. Samantha dresses up, one of the characters, as a dominatrix spanking everyone that enters her party at a club with a lovely little whip. It's a lot of fun don't you think? Especially since it was something that happened a handful of years ago... on TV! Who says men don't want to watch shows for women? Here's a few screen caps for those who haven't seen it! 

La Doleur Exquise - Sex and the city

La Doleur Exquise - Sex and the city

La Doleur Exquise - Sex and the city

The exquisite pain... you must enjoy pain if this is how you continue? What is safe? You think you can't possibly feel safe. Why? Nothing is safe? You are as safe as you want to me. You choose what you welcome into your life. Even if it's a good spanking. Nothing is original it's been done and done again. You can dress it up for a party even your birthday but that won't change that someone beat you to the punch. You'll always be a copy of a copy and that's that. Can you live with that? I think so. Most people can. Or do you want to keep spanking yourself? Stop playing games with people you don't trust.

Enjoy! 
Kisses, m. 

Tyler Shields c/o Tyler Shields.com from the DSOG

Tyler Shields c/o Tyler Shields.com from the DSOG 

Safe Word
(8-18-2010)

What’s the safe word? You better remember it. I’m not writing it down. You won’t get a hint later. And I’m not stopping until you give it to me.

Fools and smart men alike. They all want one thing. To be humiliated. Tied up. Torn down. Ripped to shreds. Spanked like a little baby. Called a worthless maggot. Whipped. Chained. Emasculated. This one’s licking my boots. Leather pants stretched to the point of extreme reveal an ever-growing prominence beneath his belt line. His tongue runs down the 6 inch stiletto heel of my thigh encompassing leather boots. You missed a spot baby! GET DOWN THERE AND FIX THAT! What can I say? I’m a stickler for getting things done the right way. Oooh! He got it. And here’s your reward. Crack the whip against his bare back and watch it arch. Body spasms send release and pleasure while I repeat. You fucker. DID I SAY YOU COULD ENJOY THAT?!

I know what you’re wondering. How did a nice girl get into some nasty business like that? My response, what’s so nasty about it? There’s nothing wrong with a little deviation now and again. You should try it sometime. That is if you never done it. How can you say you don’t like it, if you’ve never even tried? Nice needs a little bit of nasty to keep things straight. Get down on your knees and grovel! Sorry occupational habit. Must scold the unwilling. You know, don’t take it personal. I don’t. Unless you’d like to help me try out my new whip? Or I could work in my new boots on your back? It really does release the tensions.

Honestly I can’t say this was always my bag, as it really wasn’t. Had this boyfriend, Rubber Johnny, uh-huh like the song, and then some. You might say he sort of opened my eyes a bit. The trick was Johnny had some funny business about the bedroom. Mucking things up seem to work him into a bother quite a bit. You’d think we were taken off of the cover of a Tijuana Brass record. Sometimes it was food. Other times it was soaps, paints, bubbles, shoe polish, candle wax, dirt, and of course a few unsanitary unmentionables directly from the bathroom. Appropriate placed paraphernalia in the right places while in just… the right… position, could send that man screaming. And the dirty business was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Needless to say it didn’t take much encouragement to go along for the ride. Occasionally things did escalate into unknown but I never forgot the safe word. Johnny said it was the most important part of the agreement. Whenever things got too close for comfort that simple little word was all that was needed to calm the situation. Exploration of the world of deviation became an instant fascination.

Into the nightly clubs of digressions I would wander looking for more and more forms of pleasure. On one of my frequent trips of exploration I was presented with the opportunity to cater to a specific clientele. Which later turned into an interesting job prospect. Oh the possibilities life can offer. Laced in leather. Arms tightly chained. Thigh high stiletto boots. Legs bound back. Blood red lipstick. Gagged with a ball. Whip in hand. Body on display. Lashing after lashing. Wondering if this asshole is hard from my outfit or from my abuse. Slightly addictive habit to reach. One must wonder what began from this. How did this man find himself coming to the conclusion that whipping equals happiness? Well you know that few seconds kind of happy that we all need regularly. The minds spins wildly with wonder. Eventually I found myself handling business night to night for a variety of men. Rich, poor, fat, thin, old and young alike. All wanting to be controlled, manipulated, teased, and completely dominated.

Dominated. I never get used to the word. It means something different for everyone. Now that my boots are cleaned I get to spend the rest of the evening wandering in an out of every corner of grown man’s body with a nice long stick that is tipped off by a searing hot cherry. Watching the skin flinch back. Take it you bastard! Pulling at the hair to force back his head with a snap so I can cook the fat of his neck a little. Fry piggy fry! This one squeals like a little pig too. OINK OINK! Dirty piggy needs to get a hot poke. Tears are streaming down his face as I prod his backside with the scorching rod of fire. Red skin covered in welts to the point of a bursting blood release. Mouth holds back the release of sound. CRY! SCREAM! GIVE IN! WEAK ANIMAL! Continues to restrain from the fulfillment. The funny thing is that he loves every minute of it. The torture. The submission. The abuse. Otherwise… he knows how to take back control. Until he’s ready, I can’t do anything but carry on. Do you remember the safe word?

Dream Roomspiration: Sexy Time Bedrooms for the Provocative Bachelor

There's nothing sexier than a man that has provocative taste in his bedroom style! 

Dream Roomspiration: Sexy Time Bedrooms for the Provocative Bachelor 

Barbie loves what Ken has done with his space! In fact she can't help but gush over his great eye & provocative use of modern design. 

So Dolls once in a while take a step back & let your Ken decorate! He's sure to come up with some great sexy ideas for his bedroom!

Would you let your Ken take charge?

Barbie thinks you should!

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Inspiration: Style Icons Alexander McQueen vs. Salvador Dali - Pleasure

“It is important to look at death because it is a part of life. It is a sad thing, melancholic but romantic at the same time. It is the end of a cycle—everything has to end.”  

– Alexander McQueen, 2010


Must death be seen as a sadness? Can death be a pleasure? It is said that there is pleasure in a little death. I once read somewhere that love, sex & death were synonymous. It seems that perhaps the French agree. For you see there is a phrase “Le Petit Mort” and translated it refers to the Little Death. It is coined in reference to the achievement of spiritual, mental or physical release of an orgasm & the feeling of melancholy that transcends the experience. The “life force” that is expended through the chemical release of the body produces a loss, a pleasurable loss, albeit a loss.

So perhaps when you next take pleasure in death remember its but a little death and you should be enjoying it.

The pleasure is all mine.

Enjoy,
Kisses. m.

Revisiting The D Chronicles - (Men): Damn Tasty?

Damn! The things people do... Some things that people might do are quite interesting... some might even say tasty? I suppose it depends on your personal predilections and tastes. Anyhow here's a interesting story taken from my ebook D-Men and an interesting photo that reminds me of the things that people do. It's from one of my personal favorite photogs. Type in the link into your browser if you'd like to see more photo work.

Kisses, m.

photo credit: the business man - c/o tylershields.com

Damn!

“Damn!”

Sometimes you find yourself in a situation that warrants a certain action. The delicate handling of an otherwise tricky circumstance. And on this night in the back of an old Coupe de Ville Yancey Taylor found himself in one of those situations that certainly warranted handling.

Yancey Taylor wasn’t anyone that anybody would notice. Hell even his name wouldn’t catch your attention. Back then he was a shaggy haired kid that hadn’t grown into himself. Now Boots McGhee might roll off your tongue just a little bit more appropriately.  And as such it did. Yancey always was a ladies man but mostly without the ladies before Boots the rocker picked up. But that’s getting a little ahead of things.

Now in any story they’ll tell you what happens wasn’t much fun. In the case of Boots McGhee every story was more than ample fun and that was hardly overstating the obvious.

Yancey Aloysius Taylor was the son of a carpenter. He wasn’t much for following in his old man’s footsteps. Picking up a hammer couldn’t quite compare to picking up a guitar. As matter of fact as young as he could remember he always wanted to be a musician. So it came as no wonder that he did. Yancey Taylor played with a band for five odd years before it went platinum, gold and silver. And that’s when good ol’ Boots McGhee came round to show ‘em a thing or too.

Boots had a following with the ladies from the beginning. Right down to the tips of his boots he had something going for him. His namesake was the thing that landed him on the scene. That was the thing with good ol Boots. He had a reputation that preceded him with all the ladies. And sure enough the word got around. Every gal wanted a part of the man. Didn’t matter if he had an old lady or not, they all wanted him just the same. On more than one occasion he kept a good time gal exclusive for a string of shows. Didn’t happen too often but it happened.

Young, old, middle aged made no difference for the most part. Except. Well we all have our preference for things. As most men do, Boots certainly had a preference when it came to women. A fine connoisseur,  his typically included a particularity for jail bait.

Middle-aged washed up rocker or not, some things never change…

Underage Sally wasn’t the first, the last and most certainly wouldn’t be the only on his list. Seventeen teen queen wanted to meet her favorite guitar man after the show. Well Boots obliged that young thing the honor when he took her back to his Coupe De Ville after the show. Straight to the backseat with a bottle of his favorite bourbon and his favorite pair of boots.

This particular night was about the same as all the other times he’d taken a young thing back to the car with him. Except on this occasion Bo0ts got a little more than he’d expected. Sally Seventeen sure knew her way around a backseat as much as how to work the man sitting in it. Boots didn’t mind so much as long as he got to keep his mouth on the bottle and enjoy the ride.  According to good old Boots there wasn’t anything in this world quite like looking at a naked woman while she’s playing cowgirl with him.

She told him to hold her close.

And he held her close.

From behind she looked a bit like an angel and he told her as much while stroking her back. She smiled and he knew but couldn’t see it. Soft curls of brown bounced quickly in front of his face. With every movement she tilted her hips further backward. The farther back she pressed against him, the faster he felt himself climb. Eager to prolong things a bit more…

Spread a little wider is what he told her.

And that’s what she did.

Somewhere between the front and the middle Boots brought in a pinch hitter size 12 ½ double wide. And that’s exactly what the doctor ordered. A push of his heel and a press his bare hand his good ol boot came directly into play. Without much thought Sally wasn’t thinking when she felt the other player enter the game and fell right into the rhythm of things.

You might begin to wonder if a man like good ol Boots served any jail time over a little bit of bait. Well that’s where this story gets interesting if you know what I mean.

Handling business on this occasion was exactly what Boots and his underage companion were doing when it happened. It might have been the way that underage filly was giving the old boy a run for his money or it might have been that the boot fit in just the wrong way. Sure enough though somewhere between climax and carefree that little gal caught herself on the tip of his boot.

But bleeding, that’s not what happened to catch their attention. Now what stopped them from climbing any higher was something altogether different. It wasn’t even a wonder that anyone had been hurt when the siren’s sounded across from the vehicle.

“Damn” is what he thought as much as what he said when the cops pulled up to the ride. There wasn’t much to it when the ride came to an end. Sally even leaned back and kissed him when he let her down real gentle. Even with the sight of their bloody mess she kissed even harder.

These things happen is what she said with a laugh.

So “these things happen” is what he told them. But that was before they saw there was blood. Enough blood to make a situation necessary to handle.

After there was blood they said he’d be lucky to stay out of jail. And lucky he was when Sally Seventeen said she’d been expecting a visit from her Aunt. The police didn't like it much but they had to agree it was a ace trick he had up his sleeve. And in the end, the only thing that stuck Boots in jail that night was two counts of breaking his probation for the alcohol.

See Yancey Taylor wasn’t a legendary man, but good ol Boots McGhee he was such a man. And now some might say what happened was legendary and some say that’s how legends are made. But one thing’s for certain, on that night that’s what good old Boots did. He made himself a legend with little Sally Seventeen.

You can't understand...

How I Could Just Kill a Man.


Ah, could you kill someone? Or feel angry enough to kill them. Well, here's a little advice: don't kill them but definitely get angry enough to be rid of them in your life. Tears, like the killing, are optional. Here's a little music that has been my song of the day and an old favorite piece of writing. It was included in my eBook "Killing Changes You" which you can buy here. 

Enjoy!

kisses, m.
  
 How I Could Just Kill a Man - Charlotte Sometimes
 



Between my legs

(12-9-09)

Between my legs. Lies a hope for the future. Safety. Love. My insecurity? The reason he strayed is between her legs. The reason I stay is between mine. Infidelities he shouldn't have. We're both crying. Both aching. Knowing it’s too damn hard to watch him leave each time. Welcoming him back into my arms despite these flaws. Into the warmth, the depths where he’d linger too long. Falling and fading quickly, taking me down with him. Consumed by desire. A dark desire that is delicately hidden but ever so welcoming. Watching him savor the taste like drinking a hearty pinot noir as the flavor deepens into a meaningful experience. An exceptional wine, meant to be slowly enjoyed down to every drop.

Disappointment. My weakness. Inadequacies as a female. The one thing that sells you short as a woman is there between your legs. Never being taken seriously. As a woman it will keep you weak if you choose. Deprive you of love if you let it. Or allow the true nature within to become empowered by it. Controlled. Demanding. Eve in the Garden of Eden with that convincing apple. Damned is the man that believes he is manipulating a woman. A woman is a cool calculating creature never to be trusted or taken lightly despite what lies between her legs.

Waiting for him to return one more time. Deep down knowing that the game never changes, yet I’ve been foolish enough to continue this way. Sitting carefully, naked in the cold dark kitchen at the small table I trace my fingers carefully along the Formica surface. My bare skin is alive with the anticipation of his return. Element of surprise. It is my very intention to seduce and distract. The pressure of cool metal steel is nestled against the inside of my thigh as I wait. Looking down I can see the invention of death between my legs. Just as I continue to think he hasn’t returned soon enough the front door moves. Quickly my hand reaches in pushing aside the revolver where his eyes can not see. Nothing but my smile and open invitation.

Carefully the dark room masks his face as he moves closer to me. Only his eyes are visible as he makes his way forward. From the looks of it, he’s quite pleased to find me unclothed and honest. Standing over me his hands reach down into my hair and along my neck. An extraordinarily hard kiss as he makes an effort to lean in. The roughness of the moment is intoxicating as his grabbing hands continue to trail along my bare skin. Hands around my hips and in the small of my back as lips move downward, tracing their way from neck to breasts, then further. My ambitious efforts have me fumbling through his clothing, unclasping and removing, as he advances. As he reaches my navel I continue to reassure him by gently stroking his hair; beautiful hair, dark, thick and lush. Head movements find a balance as he nears my thighs. Tug at the back of his head to make eye contact. Lifting eyes meet mine in a piercing stare. Shh! He calms me with a smile before reaching between my legs.

Slowly I part my legs further and give way. Sliding the gun out from its hidden place, ever so silently, with a scoot of my thigh. Removing the cold steel instrument of death as he bends forward to kiss the inside of my thigh. Lips continue to softly caress my inner thigh as his hands come around to circle my hips and pull forward. Silently I find a place beneath his temple. Bare. Visible to my aim. Rocking my hips forward to meet his increasing movements, with my target in sight, I squeeze the trigger tenderly releasing death. Between my legs.

Well that's just Fabulous!

Dolce & Gabbana 2012


“Relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.”  - Sex and the City


SEX and a little sex...

I've always been a huge fan of Sex and the City and between every bit of heartbreak I take down the box set from the shelf and watch my favorite episodes from the show. From what I hear there's a whole new chapter opening up [THE CARRIE DIARIES!] for the younger generation to become Carrie-fanatics all over again. It's funny that one door closing leads to another. But that is life. All this it reminds me that it's been so very long since I've been here and there on the blog. As I mentioned previously I can not talk about all of it... but in time I will share. At least what I can. So I won't have to kill any of you... OR WILL I? kisses.

I'm writing tonight on something that is so remote from this that it felt as though I was... on another planet away from all human contact aside from Twitter & Facebook. Which everyone knows is TOTALLY REAL LIFE! 

HIGH FIVE? 

Leaving me hanging? 

Really?

COME ON!

Well needless to say I've been on an interesting writing schedule for a few weeks now and playing on occasion. I have to say it is really weird to come back to writing blogs after being away so long. And it since it hasn't been all work it is a lot more liberating than it used to be. So...

Recently I've run into a few old friends and made a few new ones. Some are in new relationships, some are in old relationships, and a couple of friends with some very bad habits. TSK-Tsk! Still love you all. Along the way I happened to meet a new friend that was coming back from or rather I do believe he was about go on Safari once again. Is that the term they call it anymore? Needless to say he was leading an expedition of sorts off into the wilderness of some foreign place after being away for so long. ADVENTURE! That's always fabulous! Oh back to it...

Even though time has brought change and change has brought consistency... It seems no matter where I turn the people around me are all still fascinated by L-O-V-E. 

Shhh! It's a bad word. NO IT ISN'T! 

Some are so very much in it! I do LOVE that! Some are no where near it. Which is fine and dandy unless you are unhappy with that choice. [Yes it's your choice] Others are too busy for it. Oh but not the fellow on Safari! He says he would make time in his schedule for the right person. In this case that will be one lucky fellow! And for Moi? I'm none of the above. I'm happy. I love myself. I don't make myself miserable anymore about things that aren't really in front of me. And I'm never too busy for the important things in life, especially love.

Now you can harbor animosity toward others and make yourself miserable or you can decide to be happy with your choices and realize that you make the best choices with the options that are in front you. If you are happy with what you have chosen then it will show to the world. And there's not much you have to prove to anyone when you are truly happy. It won't matter what anyone thinks. It doesn't. You make yourself happy and then you are capable of bringing so much happiness to others.

I think relationships are that... You find someone and it's a new world that is different from yours or perhaps a similar world to yours and sometimes it's a world that makes you reevaluate the way you are. But ultimately it's really how you live with yourself that welcomes others into your life. If you want to be miserable then you will attract misery. If you love yourself truly then love will truly find you. Ultimately you create the life you want to have, welcome people into it who love you just the way you are and then live it, breath it, enjoy it and if you're lucky... no one yells cut at the end of it.

kisses, 
m.