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. 

Do Not Be Afraid Of Who You Are

I’ve been in the lifestyle for a number of years – 12, technically. And yet, a number of those were me wandering in the dark scared of my own desire. Fearful of who I was. 
I’m much better now, with an open dialogue between the various aspects of my personality. But I still struggle. Whenever I am about to post, I am scared initially. Scared that one day, one thought will go too far. One story will be too rough. Or weird. 
I mean, I’ve written about sea creatures and vampires and sex cults and you guys are still here. But I still worry. 

And so today, I want to talk about fear.
For some, it starts at the beginning of your journey. You have a thought so effective that it scares you because of how you perceive it – that it’s weird or demented or troubling. 
Maybe it’s not just a thought, maybe it’s a mindset. A rape fantasy. A bondage fantasy. Maybe you’re a masochist and you’re trying to understand why you like sadistic concepts. 
Running from that thought won’t work. I tried. I ended back at square one face to face with the thought. And I’d feel guilty.
The trick, I think, is to begin to rewire your outlook. Day by day, steal a moment to yourself and think about what scares you. Remind yourself you’re not alone. That it’s okay to be the way you are.
For me, it was a long and slow process. I signed up to Fetlife. I challenged myself with nude photos. I dived into the local conversation. And day by day, I’d take a moment to read about it, in books, online. 
I think because I always kept the door open to learn, that eventually it became second nature to me. I felt okay being this weird mix of Daddy / Master / Primal.
Even though that’s my story and everyone is different, I feel like the keeping the door open notion is useful. Don’t run from it, keep one foot in the door and one foot in your comfort zone until you are ready to take a wander through entirely.
What we feel, who we are, is natural. It’s what makes us beautiful. Whether you’re interested in bestiality, like an old friend of mine once was, or whether you’re laying in bed married but out of sorts with your spouse. 
The first step is admitting these thoughts are okay. Are your own. The next step is up to you. You might fall or stumble but you’re stronger then you realise. You’ll be okay.
If you need help taking that initial step, if you want to run by a desire just to hear someone else let you know it’s perfectly fine, if you are confused, whatever the reason, you’re not alone. My email – my door – is always open.
Don’t be afraid to step through. 





This one’s just a short one, born out of the notion of looking at people and thinking of what kind of life they lead. I went for intimate and short but sweet. Let me know how I went.


Picture this, if you will.
A blonde woman arrives home dressed in her work uniform, a dull grey top with black suit pants.
With a sigh, she throws down her purse, a simple pink thing, and collapses on the bed.
She is 24 and lives with her mother. She is single. She works Monday-Friday, nine to five, at a shoe shop. And this afternoon, she is exhausted.
Her room features walls decorated by a collection of album covers from her favourite artist – Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Cream – it was her dad that led her to fall in love with the rock and roll of the sixties and seventies.
The woman runs a hand through her long blonde hair and registers that it needs a cut. She sighs. Something else to keep track of across the week.
With that, she reaches down and slips out of her black pants.
Her legs, slender and pale, stretch across the floor, sliding against the fabric of the carpet.
She glances down at her underwear – plain bright green boylegs – and hooks her fingers around the elastic and pulls them off.
It falls to the floor twisted and crumpled.
From there, she unbuttons her top. That falls to the floor as well.
She’s wearing a black bra. It’s nothing fancy but it’s the kind of thing that becomes fancy in its plainness. Pretty soon that falls off as well, tumbling onto her blouse on the floor.
The blonde woman stretches back completely naked and feels the ceiling fan skim air down to her small breasts.
A lifetime ago, she would have hated her breasts – absolutely hated them.
Now, she thinks they’re the best thing about her.
She couldn’t describe why, perhaps it was just age that led her to see the appeal within herself.
With that, she fell into a peaceful nap.

Being Nude Anywhere Is Thrilling

..And I don’t really know why.

Maybe it’s linked to the idea that my parents were repressed. Or I was taught it’s a big no no so I lived in a repressed state for my life. But anytime I undress here in my own place as an adult, I feel thrilled.

I just stripped off to go crawl into bed. I’m tired, I’ll have a nap. But the sheets on my skin, the gentle breeze on my cock. It’s electrifying. 

And is there any greater Joy? Probably. Maybe. But seriously, I don’t know why it is that I feel super charged. Maybe I’m just a nudist, maybe I just like nudity.

But it’s more than that, because I sleep nude, I write nude. Its a part of me in ways maybe I can’t recognise. Or maybe I’m reading too into it.

I mean I do it all the time, it should be second nature. So why is it still thrilling? 

The only answer I can come up with is that I’m a highly sensitive, highly sexual person. So perhaps that’s why. Because I’m always switched on, hard and ready for anything.

What say you, ladies and gents? Anyone share my highly sensitive, highly sexual mindset? Anyone reading in bed or wherever right now naked and comfortable?

Hera, Ch. 1


This is the ‘competition story’ that I have been working on
in my spare time.
Using the winner’s creative inputs for elements, I
got to work but ended up writing something
larger than I anticipated.

The following is a blend of my favourite things –
Science Fiction, BDSM, Horror and Thriller.
It is dark, twisted and weird.

If you’ve survived my stuff and enjoy it,
you may just enjoy this as well,
but might I request that you find a
quiet spot to get lost in the story?
You might just need it.
– TD&D

Chapter One


The Distress Call



Year: Twenty One Sixty Three

United Nations Star Freighter: Orion

Seven Months from Earth

Total Crew: Five


Captain: Alfred ‘Al’ Matthews

Med. Officer: Jodie Bronwyn

Science Officer: Brett Fredericks

Chief Engineer: Kadie Dawson

Navigator: Lucille ‘Lucy’ James



Kadie fell to the ground, sputtering out the fluid that went down the back of her throat.
The floor beneath her was like ice to her nude body, which glistened with the hyper sleep fluid she went to the dark in.
She blinked, her vision blurry with the thick fluid, and she wiped her blonde hair out of her eyes and over her ear. It left a trail of slime as it went.
Kadie could feel her nipples stiffening in reaction to the cold floor beneath her. The ache slid down to her stomach.
She could feel the coolness of the ship all around her body; it touched every inch of her pale skin, skimming from her hair down to her cunt, which she freshly shaved just before hyper sleep.
“Looks like the newbie’s first hyper sleep trip didn’t go so well” Came a voice to Kadie’s left.
Kadie looked to see Medical Officer Bronwyn, leaning against a set of lockers and fully nude, wearing a cream towel around her body.

Jodie Bronwyn was an attractive woman, thought Kadie. She was African-American, mid thirties. Joined the Orion at only twenty-three and has been here ever since.
As Kadie lay on the floor weak and frozen, her pale body blinding in the light, thanks to the hyper sleep fluid, she took in the sight of Bronwyn.
Her nipples glistened not only with hyper sleep fluid but also with a nipple piercing.
Suddenly Kadie felt very uncomfortable being naked in front of these people she had only known the past month during training.

Truth be told, she was uncomfortable with being nude in hyper sleep but was assured it was a safe and comfortable process.
“Everyone has a bad run their first time” Came another voice, a deeper voice.
Science Officer Fredericks came into view from Kadie’s right, drying his hair with another cream towel.
He was slightly tanned and muscular.
He regarded Kadie with his curious steely gaze as he dried his hair.
His cock, half erect and fully shaven, swayed with the movement of his body.
Bronwyn let out a laugh, throaty and infectious, and stretched out a hand for Kadie to grab onto.
As Kadie stood, her legs wobbled and she had to lean against a railing nearby to steady herself, much to the amusement of Bronwyn, who laughed not in a mean way but just in a teasing way you would to a close friend.
The voyage from her settlement on Proxima Centuri b to Earth was Kadie’s second time in hyper sleep and compared to the veteran travels of Orion’s crew, who charted the galaxy, she was indeed a newbie.
“Alright, Alright – Crew, get to the Dining Room in 15. We’ve got words to discuss”
Captain Matthews walked passed dressed in only faded green tracksuit pants. Kadie felt the sudden need to shield her breasts as he walked passed her.
“Hop in the shower, Newbie. You’ll feel all the better for it” Bronwyn said after Matthews disappeared out of the hyper sleep chambers.


Fifteen minutes later, Kadie appeared in the dining room, dressed in the green cargo pants of the Orion Crew uniform and a plain white T-shirt.
The shower made her feel human, awake. The slime was now gone, replaced with the refreshing scent of a lime scrub.
She looked around at the crew of the Orion.
The dining room of the Orion was a small circular room, with its own fridge, kitchen bench and sink located at the back of the room.
In the centre of the room was a circular metal table and around that was a booth, its maroon cushioned tearing apart at the seams.
Navigator Lucy was by the Kitchen bench pouring herself a coffee. She was the second youngest of the crew, three years above Kadie, who was twenty-six.
When Kadie entered the room, the crew didn’t regard her or stop and stare, they went about their own activities.
Fredericks and Bronwyn were continuing their game of Scrabble while Matthews was reading what was most likely an old newspaper.
Kadie took a seat beside Bronwyn who nudged her with a closed fist on the shoulder and giggled, “Feelin’ Fresh?”
The comment got Matthews to look up from his paper. His eyes met Kadie and that’s when he lowered his paper and cleared his throat.
“Now that Chief Engineer Dawson has joined us, we can begin discussing why the hell we’re awake.”
“Yeah, why the hell are we awake, Hoss” Bronwyn said, making her move on the Scrabble Board.
“Sister’s detected a distress signal,” Matthews said flatly.

Sister is the Star freighter’s AI. Every United Nations Star freighter has one.
Programmed and refined to not only match the mentality of the crew but also monitor their journey safely, the Sister AI was the latest in the state-of-the-art Artificial Intelligence designed by Earth Designer Charles Dean.
It is so named for it’s visual appearance and mental attributes of a nun, which is strange if you consider that it is responding to the existential belief of religion.
And yet the news was worrisome because Sister was designed to awaken the crew upon receiving a distress signal.
Bronwyn stopped moving her tiles and looked up. “Out here? In the ass end of nowhere?”
“What’s the origin of this…signal?” Fredericks asked, frowning.
Matthews cleared his throat, took a sip out of his own coffee and swallowed.
“No doubt some of you may have seen the blinking lights of the UN Star Freighter Scorpio out the right side of the ship.”
Kadie looked around the room, some nodded, while others, such as herself, had not seen it, having just woken up out of a funk.
“Needless to say, while you lot were showering, I was trying to raise the old bird. And nothing. At all. She’s quiet.”
The crew sat in silent a moment, reflecting, before Matthews interrupted it.
“We’re going out there, all hands on deck. I don’t know what’s going on, whether it’s starship troubles or mutiny or what. But I want everyone at the ready and I want that now, ASAP. We’re taking the beams so maybe hold off on breakfast for a short time, yeah?”
The crew laughed, all except Kadie, whose brown eyes creased in a frown.
Something was troubling her about this.

Moments later, the crew materialised inside the control room of the Scorpio.
Everything was quiet, save for the humming of the ship. It vibrated up Kadie’s body, tickling her cunt.
The room was entirely empty, with no sign of violence or any other activity.
Chairs and couches and even a dartboard on the wall showed no sign of wear and tear, no sign of activity. Nothing.
The crew were each wearing a protective suit, on the off chance of a chemical leak or other unforseen dangerous hazards. Their suits hissed as each of them took a breath.
Kadie stepped through the control room, listening to her own breathing in her ears. She could still taste the hyper sleep fluid in her mouth. It made her feel sick.
“Sister? Can you give me a status report?” Asked Matthews.
Nothing. The ship remained lifeless.
Kadie made her way to the terminal in the centre of the room. It was switched off and covered in blueprints of the ship.
She moved the blueprints to the floor and flicked the terminal on. It lit up with an audible click and came to life, buzzing.
“Dawson? What are you doing?”
“I’m manually seeing if Sister reported any faults or problems over the last however many hours the ship has been stationed here, Sir.”
Speaking felt weird to Kadie. It came to her just then that this was the first time she had spoken in two weeks. Her voice was croaky.

The terminal loaded to an empty black screen, save for a blinking cursor in the top left corner.
The crew gathered around Kadie, the screen lighting up their visors with a soft glow.
Kadie typed E35-S, which was the command “What’s the problem, Sister?”, and waited.
Nothing came back on the screen.
Kadie didn’t know what to do so she typed H66+A, which demanded a system report from the ship’s intelligence.
The crew waited in the low light of the command centre.
“Well, what the fuck is this?” Matthews said aloud. He had turned to Fredericks in his confusion.
“Well, she is an AI, Sir. Technical things always come with a room for error.”
“It’s ‘state-of-the-art’ though” Bronwyn replied.
She is. But as I just said, with anything, there is the possibility of an error, maybe even an infection in her update.”
Matthews looked around the room in silence. His suit hissed as he sighed.
“Well, let’s do a sweep. We’ve got to log this. All of this.”
He walked to the doorway that led out of the command centre.
“What a nightmare” He muttered.

The crew were voicing their opinions or voicing their agreements when Kadie had an idea.
She had to raise her voice to speak over the crew. “Sir?”
Matthews had to poke his head back in the doorway of the command centre, for he was already outside.
“Yes, Dawson?”
“I have an idea.”
“Oooh, the newbie has an idea,” Bronwyn said with a laugh.
Kadie felt her cheeks burn as Matthews told Bronwyn to can it.
“What is it, Dawson?” Matthews asked.
“Well, Sir..”
Kadie felt all eyes on her. It twisted her stomach. Or was that the hyper sleep fluid she ingested?
“Well, if we really want, we can reset Sister from the ship’s core. Maybe that can bring her back to a responsive state.”
Matthews regarded Kadie and then looked to Fredericks for confirmation.
“She’s right. We could do a manual reset and that may fix it.”
Kadie found herself pointing to the blueprints. “I can read those. I have a C class rating. We can find her core, Captain.”
Matthews laughed out of surprise. “Now I know why the council recommended you, Dawson. Let’s get you to the core.”

Kadie found her smiling – and then hoping no one, especially Bronwyn, caught it.
Bronwyn would never let it go.
Kadie could indeed read the blueprints and tracked the ship’s core down the opposite end of the hallway from the command centre.
Remembering her knowledge of UN Star Freighter’s from university, Kadie thumbed around the bottom of the wall before her and pressed inward.
This revealed the loose panel, which she pulled outward and, with the help of Matthews and Fredericks, she removed the panel to the floor.
“What now?” Fredericks asked. “Who do we decide goes in?”
By the time he finished his sentence, Kadie was pulling off the helmet of her protective suit.

James was the first to witness then and could only react by shouting “Are you insane?”
But the helmet was already on the floor.
The air was crisp. Cool. And the fact that she wasn’t immediately dead puzzled the rest of the crew.
“Dawson, you want to explain to me what you are doing?”
“Someone’s got to get into the core room. I’m the smallest and I’ve studied for this, both the layout of the ship and for a situation such as this”
Kadie spoke as she was pulling the rest of her suit down and stepping out of it, revealing her thin white panties and t-shirt.
Matthews looked to the rest of the crew for affirmation but they just shrugged. Even Fredericks.
Kadie kicked aside her protective suit and looked to Matthews.
“Fine. Just get it done and get back here. We’ve still got a sweep to do.”
Kadie met his gaze and nodded before turning to the small square shape in the wall.

Her heart was pounding in her ears, she found, and she wasn’t one for tight spaces but someone had to do it.
Kadie went in head first, making sure to lower her back as she squeezed her lower body under the open grate and into the wall.
The space was just enough for her to wiggle her body through the wall.
Ahead of her she could see faint light – Sister’s AI core.
All around her was the humming of the ship. It vibrated every inch of her body, tickling
her all over.
The wall space on her knees was tough, rubbing tightly against her bones, like crawling against bare concrete.
The light ahead got closer and closer, until Kadie found herself in a cool circular room.
She noted the fans on the wall, one for every two panels across the length of it.
In the room was a metallic tubular shaft, lit up with blue lights that blinked in a sequence with each other.
That must be it, Kadie thought. Now to just –

Something wet and heavy smacked her across the head and her world went dark.

To be continued another time…



The Twisted Voyeur

I’m a voyeur, it seems. Maybe even twisted to some people’s standards. And maybe those people are boring, but it’s all subjective.
Take for example, the concept of sniffing panties. I don’t do that. I know how to push my kitten to turn her on and I can inhale that delicious scent just like that. 
I do Inhale her perfume. Because it makes me think of her. And because when I’m down or lonely, I go to her jumper or something and inhale. 
But like, if someone did sniff panties, that’s their thing. And when I hear someone, like in my circle of friends, react to the concept, I think to myself why? We’re animals. Smell is a big thing to us. 
But a twisted voyeur I am. I like to watch people. People make me curious. And my mind is all sorts of an erotic Rear Window. 
I guess I’ve always been interested in psychology and I’ve always been interested in behavioural patterns.
And then there’s the idea that I’m in someone’s space. Maybe making them, if not uncomfortable, then making them think about why they are uncomfortable? What reason? 

For some reason I like taking something of yours and corrupting it. It’s a weird sort of Sadism.
Say you’re undressing in your bedroom, free to be a goof, whatever. And then I’m by your window, or I materialise from thin air. To slowly take what freedom you have, to take the last personal space you have, and violate it with my wandering eyes. 
What space are you bound to? What rules are you bound to then? When that space is taken from you and you are left naked and trembling.
My mind is tired and wandering. The point I’m making is: I’m twisted, psychological and fascinated by people. And how they behave behind closed doors. In their bedrooms. What secrets are in their drawers? What toys? What kind of underwear? What lingerie? How do they sleep?
I hope that when you’re in your personal space next, that this post comes to mind. I hope you feel the concept of being watched. You should tell me what that’s like. 

Naked Therapy

I’ve been pulling a few late nighters working hard on little seperate projects of mine – and tonight I thought I’d write something here on the blog about what’s on my mind – naked therapy. 
I wondered if there was such an alternative out there. 

I mean, if you think about it, nudity is something some of us ponder about. It’s something we might not appreciate and are scared by.
I know I struggled with it sometimes, and I’ve heard from others as well. And it makes me wonder why? It’s our bodies, yeah, and it’s at the heart of who we are. It’s the shell we are attached to. And something about being exposed and free of clothing might be scary. But is this because we were taught it’s wrong? Is it a self esteem thing? 
What if there was a therapist that sat to you nude and challenged your preconceptions about nudity, sexuality, all while in therapy? 

Is that even possible? I’d like to think so in my respects but then put me in front of a nude kitten and my mind wander. 

If it was another woman, well I’m sure there’d be no interest outside of the curiosity about others bodies – how their breasts rest, do they have freckles? Are they shaved or trimmed? You learn a lot from all this. 

And yes, it’d go the same way if a guy was nude in front of me – I’d ponder about their body hair, physique, cock shape and size and might even compare myself, which I find odd that that’s a notion but I guess it’s the dominant side in me. 
I think nudity can put us in touch with something inside ourselves that we are hesitant to open and look at, and I this is partially because it’s such an emotional thing, especially if it goes against years of conventional thinking.
It’s something that I recommend people practice, whether they are newcomers or not.

To be naked, to challenge ways of thinking and behaviour.