Sensory Overload

All it takes is for her to duck into the lounge room where I’m resting, completely nude, in all her mesmerising glory, to grab a head band for her bath —
And my mind is transported away.
She is chained to the bedroom, completely naked, her arms and legs spread apart.

There’s a bag over her head. Something new. Me being sadistic by toying sensory deprivation. She won’t be able to see. She won’t be able to quell any concern with a kiss. How long should I leave her with the bag on? Perhaps when the air runs low, when her mind is dazed, I could bring her to the brink of her orgasm — and as my mouth rests over her cunt, my tongue teasing her clit with small licks, I can remove the bag.

And as her senses rush back to her, her body seizes with all the power of an orgasm. 
The dizziness of the air rushing back to her melds with her pleasure. Maybe it’ll catapult her senses sky high. Maybe she might be elated. Soaring high into a space that’s beyond the norm but not beyond my reach.
I could bring her back with a gentle hug, soft words – and the reminder that I am in charge of her. And all that she is. 
And then I’m back in the lounge, a grin forms across my lips. I know just what to do. 

When In Mexico


The waves rise and fall. Rise and fall.
There comes a rumble in the distance – a coming storm. But you wouldn’t know it with this beautiful sunset, with the light rippling along the waves.
It’s such a beautiful afternoon, but you wouldn’t know it from looking at the beach. There’s no one here.
That’s when I see you, rising from the crashing waves. Your skin is sun drenched and beading with waters.
I’m captivated by you as you swing your jet black hair out of your eyes.
I’m captivated by the way you walk to your towel with that hypnotic sway.

I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful than you, more…well, earthly. A Mexican goddess. There’s something that screams out from you, but I can’t find out what.

It travels through the air, this scream, and ripples into me. Suddenly one hand is keeping you down while the other is untying your bikini top.
Your top comes undone and your tits spill out. It’s just how I pictured you – dark brown Areola’s and small chubby darkened nipples. Whether they’re hard due to coldness or arousal, I don’t know. And I can’t think, because they’re in my mouth. They taste salty but I know that’s the ocean.

The best thing though is how you move. How you squirm. How you curse in Mexican. My god, darling, you are making me hard.

The spitting only works to make me harder but I am enjoying sucking the salt from your tits. It’s kind of sexy to hear how guttural you can get while I choke you and suck on your nipples.

And how do you maintain your cunt? Oh the best question! Are you shaved? Are you trimmed? Are you all natural? I kind of admire that. It’s beautiful in its own way. You’re a woman after all, earthly.

Would you think I’m mad, to think so deeply about your cunt? I suppose you would. I suppose you’d call it perverted. But I must see. Oh I simply must.

Your short shorts slip off smoothly and my, what a revelation. A lovely landing strip if I ever saw one. Nice and thick. Oh I simply must taste you.

This is when you start to convulse from my mouth on your nipple and my goodness, what an animal you are. Your throaty cries are intense!
Also, who knew a nipple orgasm could be so much fun? Certainly not you. Now hold still, I must taste you.

You squirm of course, I thought you might. But my mouth waters. I cannot stop. I know: I’ll twist your nipple. You’ll cry and it’ll shock you into place. I like order, please don’t disrupt it. Hold still, you little bitch.

That’s when I lower my mouth to your cunt. And here’s how it is: my tongue sucks in your clit. Your juices flow with a mix of your essence and sea water. It’s a divine mix. An intoxicating aroma and taste. Something I simply must have more of.
I —

“Excuse me, have you got a smoke?”

You’re here, clothed and looking eagerly at me. Suddenly the images of your cunt and darkened nipples fade. How long was I daydreaming? How long have you been staring at me for an answer?
My eyes fall to your breasts, heaving, covered in little water droplets. I look away, hope you don’t notice.
I don’t know what to say.

Spitting During Sex

It is what is. Or is it?

Now I sound like a Dr. Seuss book. So let’s get to it: spitting during sex is something I have always enjoyed during my roughest moments. When I’m edgy, when I am feral, I want to spit on my pet.

But there’s something else that’s always gnawed at me too. I was raised by the strictest of parents, I can tell you. I couldn’t ask “What?” in my home and that’s something that is within my relationship with my pet, oddly enough. It’s something I’ve…smacked out of her. If you catch my drift.

So spitting is a vulgar act to me. When I see it done in public, it infuriates me. It’s disgusting. But if I’m hovering above my submissive, eager to fuck with her mind, then it’s something entirely different. It’s fucking sexy.

But there’s always the strictest of gentlemen in the back of my mind – this shy 18th century fellow who couldn’t possibly do that shit. And sometimes my devil ties him up and runs amok and that’s delicious. One might even say devilish.

I tried spitting for the first time the other day. It just sort of happened. I let myself go.

As I was choking her, and her cute little gasps and moans aroused me, I spat on her tits. It was a thing that actually brought us together. Neither of us were expecting it and it came and just opened up another part of our minds and expanded our relationship. We’re devils that have more in common than we previously thought. And the best thing is: we are still learning all this about ourselves.

It heightened the sexual tension too, I tell you. It’s one thing to spit on her, it’s another to see her shiver in ecstasy as my spit hits her nipple. Good Lord in heaven, is that something else.

So, ladies and gents, Masters and slaves, Dom’s, Dommes, Daddy’s, Mummy’s and their children, the next time you’re in the bedroom or the park or somewhere else – try spitting. See how you go.

Even try it if you’re going solo. You would be amazed how it feels by yourself.

That’s me for the week! Enjoy your weekend, fuck your brains out!

Storms Do Something To Me

04_Sydney Australia, summer lightening storm.


I was lying awake in bed in the middle of the night when I heard it: the distant rumble of thunder. As soon as I heard it, tingles traveled down my body. My cock stiffened.
For the sake of my mind at that hour, I ignored it. Closed my eyes, rolled over to hug the wall, as I tend to do in my sleep.

Another rumble of thunder. My cock, still stiffened, grew further – becoming that dull ache as it formed a tent beneath my blankets. I wanted to roll my submissive over, gently part her legs and wake her up with a kiss between the legs. I wanted to stir her further by trailing kisses on her thighs and up her stomach to the tips of her breast. And when she was fully conscious and accepted my advances, I would take her. Perhaps gently at first then the fiercer the storm gets, the harder my thrusts will become. The lightning will dance around us, the wind will howl and drown out her moans, my loud grunts..

I think of all this but yet I do nothing. Maybe it’s the gentleman in me but I am still as anything. Still and yet, my cock aches for that release. Each rumble of thunder makes me clench those muscles that feel so delicious when I come.

Storms do something to me. They ignite the fire within me. They make me want to fuck. Not make love, fuck. More animalistic, slightly rougher. I don’t know what it is but every time, without fail, I feel the surge within me during a storm. And I want to fuck.

I would gladly take my submissive out into the backyard and undress her slowly, letting that anticipation build. The storm would rage around us as I would direct her out from under the covers, where the hard rain would hit her flesh and sting her nipples. There I would take her, hard and passionate and with every ounce of strength that nature would bring to me. We would be connected with the Earth, raw and muddy. Connected with ourselves.

Storms do something to me. I am not sure what but I am not sure I want to know.


I’m sprawled out on my bed.
Completely naked.
My left hand glides down to my nipple and pinches. Hard.
It digs the nail in. Hard.
My hand twists the nipple.
The pain is refreshing. Surprisingly arousing.
My hand continues to trail down my body.
Fingertips claw down my stomach.
Faint red lines leave their mark.
My hand reaches down to my testicles.
The fingers curl, softly stroking them.
I muffle my moans into my pillow, they cannot hear me.
I grip the head of my throbbing cock.
Each throb pulsates through my body.
You there.
Yes you…reading this.
Where ever you lay.
Run your hand down your body.
trail your way down
take a finger
stroke yourself.
Forget the world..
forget the problems

play with me…


I tried to be short, sweet and straight to point. To the point where you wanted more. Did it work? Did it fail? Let me know.

The thrill of choking

In the past few months, I’ve been introduced to choking.  It never occurred to me in my earlier years as a Dominant. Not really at all. Roleplaying? Yes. Forced orgasms? You betcha. Hell, I dabbled in cutting – yes, cutting. A very primal release between two horny teenagers. If the notion seems dark to you, believe me, I had second thoughts about putting it up myself. But now that we’ve settled in together, if you want to hear my thoughts about it, please feel free to email me. I am happy to respond.

But anyway – choking just seemed to cross that line. Maybe it was going to cross the line I wasn’t ready crossing as a Dominant. Maybe it was the one true test but it all seemed so physical and a little bit off putting to me. I don’t want to crush her throat, you know? It takes a great deal of consideration.

Until, in the throes of a kiss, she grabbed my hands and put them around her throat.
At first, I was hesitant to let loose. Oh boy, I wanted to. As soon as my hands felt her flesh beneath them, something just switched on in me. Maybe all my life was leading to this one defining moment – where I become the experimental boy that transforms into the Dominant man. Certainly sounds cheesy, doesn’t it? But let’s get on a tangent for a moment here, shall we? Stop reading my words for a moment and think back on your life. Think about the defining moments that left an impression on you. Now would you say that you needed those moments to get you where you were? How would your life be without them?

Leaning over my submissive, with her cheeky look in her eyes and her hands, this was how I felt about choking her. That it all led to this one defining moment.
A voice in my head said This is what you’ve been waiting for, hasn’t it? Squeeze the life out of her, seize the moment. But I’m human like anyone else, the last thing I want to do is rupture something, resulting in a lifelong injury.

But I put my hand around her neck and squeezed, pressing her down into the bed.
The first time this happened, I held back my animal so as not to kill her terribly. I was hesitant to fully unleash that part of me because that unbridled rage is a little frightening. Tapping into that, I have to be careful. Something inside of me says: Be wary.
The more we played over the days, the more I gradually let the animal out of the cage.
So when that adorable little moan escaped her lips and she licked at the air — when her eyes rolled back into her head as she gasped for breath, I got hard.
I got hard and became savage.
You see, all I had to do was put my hand to her throat and she froze. She was absolutely still. She couldn’t be the brat that talked back anymore because she was so driven to obey me. Her animal wanted mine. She could be talking sass, rocking her head and biting at me with teasing venom but when I grabbed her neck and squeezed, she froze.

So I choked her. I squeezed the life out of her. I felt a faint rage as I did and God help me, I got harder over it.
I would suck on her little nipples and watch them stiffen under my tongue and when I sucked them into my mouth, she would let out that soft cry, all the while struggling to breathe under my hands.
And the thing was…the thing that infuriates the animal within me to this day…even choking to breathe, she pushed against her submissive side to open her eyes and mock me. She grinned and said is that all you got? even when she was at odds and knew I had the upper hand. Even at that time, she was a fucking brat. But I showed her, oh yes I did. And she fell to my command, as I knew she would.

And afterwards, as we relaxed, our primal sides returning to the softer sides, she moaned all breathless and pathetic, trying to catch her breath.
Even then, her eyes were rolling in the back of her head as she came down to Earth once more.

That was…fucking amazing she said between pants.


And ever since that time, I have enjoyed unleashing myself upon her when our animals howl at the moon together.

Me, You and Nudity


What is it with nudity?

Can anyone tell me?

I once had a discussion with someone I was living with.
“It’s really hot” they would say — and they were right, it was indeed a warm day.
Do you know my response?
“Hey man, go ahead – you’ve seen one body, you’ve seen them all”
Her response was to blush and shyly say something akin to “you don’t want to see that” and seeing her uncomfortably shift, I let it slide.
But this sort of idea stayed with me — why are we like that? I mean, insecurity is one thing but I don’t think that is entirely the issue. Our parents taught us about nudity, our society taught us about nudity – keep it hidden. As if you’ve got something to be ashamed of.

Another example would be walking around shirtless at my folk’s place whilst enjoying a Christmas holiday and my family reacted even to that site. It was amusing to me because in my mind, I was doing no wrong. Call it me being young, them being old but what is it with nudity?

We’re all beautiful. You, me – our neighbours. And this extends further into Nudists and Nude Colonies and Nude Beaches. But even then, it seems these people are few and far between. People are uncomfortable with themselves and their bodies and more often than not, its these people I come into contact with.

Its sexualised, yes. We find nude people super attractive, fair enough. But what if I want to walk around naked and it so happens people are at my home? Watch their nose turn up when I mention walking around naked. Stop thinking of me sexually – I don’t. I am just comfortable.

And lastly, the reason I bring all this up is one method I have with my submissive is to have her do her activities – her daily journal, her mantra – absolutely naked. This is because I want her to get used to living in her own skin naked. I want her to feel the gentle breeze skim across her nipples. I want her to feel sexy. More than anything, I want her to feel confident because she doesn’t. For whatever reason, be it society telling you what’s attractive or what, she doesn’t. I think we all need to practice being comfortable in our own skin and that others should exercise it a bit more.

EXHIBITIONISM seems like it can be a useful tool in this regard. Myself, I haven’t found the opportunity to seek out that task. Life gets busy and you forget to take charge.
I feel this activity, provided its practiced safely, can be liberating to the insecure person. Maybe we all need to try it out a bit more.

Somewhere along the lines, some of us have lost that confidence and I just hope in time we can rebuild it back up.