12 Days of Kinkmas: Day #10: ——— —

lonely-slave-girl-dark-cell-bondage

Nothing mattered but her.
Her soft moans, her delicious whimpers, her frantic breathless voice begging for him to fuck her sweet self, the words that came out of her mouth.
Their bodies were one, lathered in sweat, united in ecstasy, a symphony of sight and sound. The purest form of pleasure, pain and anything else in between.
He had never felt so high than he did now, slipping out of her drenched little cunt before tearing back into her again, not even bothering to ease gently.
The rhythm was an addiction, feeling his cock ease into her, pushing past her smooth lips, feeling him becoming absorbed in her. Lather, rinse and repeat.
No word, in any language, could describe just how it felt to fuck this woman – not make love to, not gently – fuck.
This was life. This was death. This was madness.
When his cock slipped from her, she grunted, frustrated playfully, whimpering for him to put it back in, hurry please. He did. He found her again. The rhythm came and he was not far behind. He

 Held onto her hips as they met each other, her back into him and he into her. Her cries were different now, genuine. Sad. Mixed with pleasure.
A terrible uneasiness slithered over his body, casting an icy chill over the sweat lathered across him.
Where was he, who is this bent over him? He went to pull away and something cool and solid pulled at him. Chains.
He was naked, mid-intercourse with a woman, a –
He looked at her; the blonde woman was now turning around from where she had knelt before him, glazed with sweat. Her eyes were furious, yet questioning.
His chest tightened, a scream was gestating in the pit of his stomach. He looked around and saw only darkness.
His senses were kicking in. There was hay at his feet, pinching at his knees. The floor was cement – cold, hard exposed cement.
He could hear movement around him, other gasps, other moans, and feminine, masculine, other sexes.
He opened his mouth to scream, it was rising in his throat.

“Don’t” The woman before him spoke in hushed tones. “They’ll hear and they’ll punish..”
“Where….”
Speaking felt strange. His throat was sore; Freddy Krueger was at work down there. Dehydrated maybe? He blinked, eyes adjusting to the darkness.
“Are you? Who knows? Not me. Not them…”
“What the fuck is going on….” His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t spoken in hours or days.
“You don’t know….” The woman said. Realisation was in her voice.
“’Course. That’s why you took me so willingly…you were still drugged…”
“Drugged?”
“What do you remember?”
He racked his brain. What did he remember? He was….someone….where was he? Home? At work? Shopping? How did he get here?
“It’ll come back to you.” The woman spoke. “My name’s Alex. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Days? Weeks? I can’t tell. Anyway. You better get on it with it.”
“What?”
“You better finish…you know….You’ve got to come within me.”
“Why the fuck for?”
His body was beginning to tremble. Anxiety swept over him, bringing with it the wave of panic.
“Because that’s what they want you to do. To get us pregnant.”
“I can’t!”
“You must, else you’ll end up like the rest – dead. And someone else will replace you. There’s always someone else.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“I’ve seen people refuse, I’ve seen them leave this room and never come back. Look around you, the others…they’re ignoring us. Why do you think that is?”
“I….”
“Look, I don’t want to die. You’ve got to come. Otherwise, we’ll both be punished..”
Footsteps. Fading in from somewhere. Shuffling on the floor. Getting closer.
“You’ve got to do it” The woman hissed.
“This is absurd –“

Door hinges squeaked, light flooded the room.
He blinked at the light, shielding his face, as footsteps broke the deathly silence – and then –

Nothing at all.
The man blinked until his eyes adjusted, he looked down the barren room, spotting two other couples – no, three – all nude, all huddled together against the grey concrete walls, all looking back in the direction of the light.
“I’ve been told you didn’t want to proceed.”
A male voice from the light.
Tightness gripped the man’s chest. He kept his head low – how did they know?
He cast a look at the woman named Alex, her eyes wide and terrified.
“I can’t. You can’t ask me to rape this girl. She’s what…? Barely 17?”
The man at the far end of the room huddled against the wall. He looked like a dad – thin grey moustache, shaved head that could’ve been bald. The woman in question did indeed look barely 17, it was in her face. Her body, though, was different, her breasts were large and her pubic hair was trimmed well.
The figure strode past the man, his cologne choking the air. He was dressed all in black, a hood concealing his hair, a mask concealing his face. His voice deep. Changed. Altered by something. His boots seemed to have a presence all on their own as he walked, clomping down on the floor.
“You are wasting our time then.”
“Look, please – you’ve got to let me, I mean her, go.  I will do what you ask but this is no place for a girl.”
The masked man sighed. “Fair.”
The Dad sighed in a relief the man felt in his chest. “Thank you, that’s all I ask. We won’t tell anyone, I won’t –“
Sound exploded through the room.
A woman screamed.
Muffled voices and – ringing, emerging above it all. Ringing so loud it throbbed in the pit of the man’s ear.
“Get him out of here, dump him with the rest. Consider him a lost cause.”
Sobbing came low quietly as two other figures dragged the corpse of the dad out of view and into the saturated light.
To the figure left behind him, the masked man said – “Find another for the girl. Quickly.”
The figure left, leaving the masked man, seemingly in charge, alone in the room.
Silence.
“You.”
The chill swept over his body. He felt like he needed to vomit.
“You’re new. Aren’t you?”
The masked man didn’t wait for a response.
“Let that waste of a life be an example to you. We are all part of…one great cause.”
Even digitised and altered, the voice seemed to relish saying we are all part of one great cause, as if it aroused him.
The altered man cocked his head at Alex, who sat with her back against the wall, looking down at the floor.
The altered man then turned and left – the light retreating from the room until they were covered in the darkness once more.

The man listened for the footsteps…waiting to hear them fade….and then turned to Alex.
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
A voice hissed at him from the darkness. “There is no escape, don’t you get that now?”
“Ssshut up” Another voice hissed.
To the man’s right, there was movement, low moaning. A man groaned in the throes of his climax. He peered back to Alex, feeling her eyes on him.
“Hey” She said softly. “It’s okay. You’re….you’re nice, you know? I can sense that. It’ll be okay…”
Her body scuffed the concrete, her arm reaching out gingerly in the darkness to find his.
“Make it quick. Hope for the best.”
Light flooded the room. Door hinges screamed. Two masked figures stepped inside as the man blinked the light into his eyes and accepted its warmth.
He looked to see one figure stride over to his right, where the man was still coming down from his climax.
The figured shoved this man aside into the wall – paused – then knelt down and studied the whimpering lady.
The woman, freckles across her body, fair red hair, sat against the concrete wall, her head buried in her arms.
“This one’s got spunk dripping outta ‘er.” The figure spoke, voice altered.
“Good.” The other said from the doorway. “Means he’s working well aye.”
The first figure laughed, which came out as a distorted garble. “Let’s go.”
He turned to leave, following after the one in the doorway.
The room fell back into darkness.
To the man’s right, the woman was breathing shakily. The man went to speak, when he felt Alex’s hand on his wrist again. “Leave it.”
A beat.
The man looked to the right then back to where Alex was before him, bent aon all fours in front of him, her cunt glistening in the darkness.
That was when he had an idea.
“I’m done! Hello? Hey, I’m done over here. Finished!”
Footsteps.
“Definitely done. All of it.”

The light flooded in the room. A sole figure stepped through and looked across the room at the men and women inside.
“Who speaks?” Came the garbled voice.
The man raised his trembling hand. He was working on pure adrenaline.
“I do. I’ve, uh…I’ve done it. What now.”
The figure approached, toting his rifle.
“Now you wait. And do it again.”
“Really? Is that how impregnation works? I’m…”
The figure stepped closer.
“I’m not sure…you know?”
Just a little bit further.
“Just do it again.”
The figure was over him now, gun in his face.
“Okay.”

A beat. The figure looked down at him, his breathing coming out in short altered bursts. He turned to leave.
The man grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him down. He hit the concrete with a hard THUNK and let out a garbled groan. The men and women panicked but the man was dragging the figure towards him by the leg.
When the figure raised the rifle, Alex yanked it free, clumsily ripping it from the hands of this man.
The figure was now reaching for the walkie-talkie attached to his belt, the walkie-talkie that the man hadn’t noticed yet. The man swirled the chain linking his hands together around the neck of the figure and pulled.
The figure, heavily built, leaned back into the man, kicking his legs out. Somewhere a woman was sobbing quietly.
The man didn’t know what he was doing, he hadn’t killed anyone before, he didn’t think, he had never strangled anyone, so he gripped the chain around the neck tightly, pulling, pulling with all of his might.
Alex freed the walkie-talkie from his belt and tossed it aside.
The figure was now reaching back to the man, his hands swatting at anything to get a grip of, to pinch, to pull, to get some ground.
The two men were grunting now, straining.
How hard did he have to pull the chain against his neck? How hard did he have to choke him before –
Alex raised the rifle. The butt of it came down on his head. Once. Twice. Three times.
Alex was grunting. Crying. On the verge of screaming.
The figure had fallen limp, sprawled out on the floor. Dead weight.
This time it was the man who put his hand gently to Alex, telling her it was okay, it would be all right, even if he weren’t sure, not entirely.
She quivered, sniffled, and shakily said, “Okay.”

A beat.

Quietly and quickly, Alex and the man searched him down for a key, finding nothing but cigarettes in only his left pocket.
“Fuck.” Alex spat.
The man searched across the floor, squinting in the darkness where the light from the doorway couldn’t reach. Nothing.
Alex was already on it.
“Put your arms on the floor.”
“What?”
“Just do it. And be still about it.”
The man did so, not yet realising he was holding his breath.
“Whatever you’re doing, do it fast.”
He could hear footsteps in the distance.
TWHACK.
His hand flew loose, the chains dangling from his wrists.
“What the fu-?”
TWHACK.
His right arm flew free of the wall chains.
“You shot me?”
“Quick. Do me.”
Alex stuffed the rifle to his chest.
“I don’t know how to shoot.”
“Hold your breath. Watch your eye. Realise your aim. Aim with your heart.”
“What?”
“Do it.” Alex hissed quietly.
The man aimed, shakily; now realising he was holding his breathe. He exhaled, his hands sweaty, trickling down his wrists.
Thwack. Thwack.
Alex grabbed the rifle, rose to her feet. The man watched in awe as she went from man to woman, freeing them of their chains with the silenced rifle. One by one the men and women rose to their feet, shakily, gingerly.

When all of them were freed, Alex seemed to take command.
“Who were you?” The man asked breathlessly.
“I….don’t know.” Alex replied matter-of-factly.
She handed the rifle to the man, who didn’t know how to hold it.
When he took it, she peered down the hallway, her eyes scanning, and her pupils large.
“Looks to be empty. But….
She turned to the small group of people. “We’ve got to go. Stay low and follow me…”
They moved low as one – one after the other, through a dilapidated hallway, the wallpaper peeling, water damage in the corners. Everything smelt of mould.
Up ahead – double doors to the left. Alex tried the rusty doorknob, the door squeaked as loud as the door to their prison.
Beyond the double doors was a stairwell only leading up. They were on the bottom floor.
“Okay, let’s go.”
The group travelled up three flights of stairs, following the faded painting on the walls till they reached words saying GROUND LEVEL.

Bursting through the double doors, Alex came face to face with infinite darkness.
Beyond that, the man peered, eyes once again settling into the dark – “Snow?”
The landscape before them, ‘neath a black sky, was a floor of snow leading out towards a tree line and into the night.
“Okay. What we need to do is –“
A flash blinded the man’s eyes. A spotlight? A searchlight?
An alarm, deafening their senses, blaring shrilly into the night, warbling low, warbling high, screeching, bloodcurdling.

“We’ve got to…keep….our”
The alarm silenced Alex’s voice.
Men and women began to panic and scream.
The man looked to his right to see a woman stumbling on her feet as if losing her balance, she turned around to face him, a bullet hole where her left eye should be.
The man felt panic seize his chest as the woman fell face forward into the snow, melting the surrounding blanket of ice with her blood.
He didn’t hear the gunshot, nor did he hear the next one that took the man next to him off his feet. Alex was dragging him away; their backs low to the brick wall behind them.
The man resisted, seeing lights flash through the tree line before them, seeing the bricks spray dust clouds ahead of him, seeing bodies in the snow, piled on top of one another.
“What the fuck?”
“We’ve got to…round this….” Alex was screaming over the alarm.

Up ahead was the corner of the building. They rounded it in a heartbeat, the man half expecting to be blown away by gunfire.
The cold was everywhere now, all over his body, gripping his chest, seizing his bare cock.
“….car…..”
“A car?”
He couldn’t hear Alex.
“It’s…we’ve got…”
She was dragging him along, like a ragdoll, his back scraping against the brick wall behind.
They made it into open space – the infinite darkness ahead of them and all around them. Beneath their feet, numb and falling asleep evermore, the man saw white lines marking the ground. He took a breath and peered before him – a car park.
A light switched on behind him, engulfing him in its presence, and he looked behind to see –
A sign – glass cracked, light flickering in and out of existence, reading – N CANCY.
The doors of the hotel, boarded up and crossed with a black X. It’s windows equally barred by rotted wooden planks, as is fighting off an impending attack. Cracks were splintering across its structure, forking out in every which way. Whoever stayed here, owned this place, had not been here in quite some time.
The whole place, lit by the searchlight and covered by the surrounded darkness, looked like something out of a hellish dream.

“Hey, let’s go!”
Miraculously, they made it to the car. Miraculously Alex found the keys, smacking an overhead visor and knocking the keys loose. Miraculously, she got it started under duress.
The man looked behind him, taking one last look at the remnants of the area before turning back to look at Alex, her face covered in grime.
They drove into the night, the alarm beckoning them to come back.

 

 

 

N I G H T M A R E     I N N

Vacancy

I feel like, from here until November the first, in the spirit of Halloween approaching, you can consider my blog like a dusty hotel on the highway.

I’m sure you know the kind – the N in Vacancy blinks in and out of existence, there’s not a car in the parking lot and you’re reminded of a fellow that had a house on the hill behind his very own motel from long ago.

You, my dear ladies and gents, are the people stopping by to rent a room. Me? I’m the lowly owner and operator, something, I’m sure I’ll say to you, I have wanted to do for as long as I can remember. I’ll greet you with a warm smile and a story from my past, I’ll tell you about the history of this place, that the pub up the road does the best meals for the best prices. I’ll say all this and more with a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye.

Each room might have the same decal, the same musty smell, the wallpaper beginning to crack and peel off, but there’s personality I would think you’ll find. Personality that creates charm. Charm that makes you feel at home.

Oh – and should you find yourself awake in the middle of the night, maybe you’ve ducked out into the dark for a smoke beneath the flickering neon light, maybe you can’t sleep because this bed is not your own, if you find yourself hearing the cries, the sobs, the walls of a young woman, do not be disturbed. For that is my kitten, which I totally do not have chained in the basement, like the little well-behaved Slave pet probably she is.

If she’s wailing, do not be alarmed. She likes to act out when it’s feeding time, she likes to test my boundaries and patience when she’s cuffed. We’re working out some of the kinks, you see. That’s all. Nothing a good discipline will not solve, yes indeed ladies and gents. She’ll be herself in the morning, she always is. It’s just that the evenings make her go a little mad. And in turn that makes me a little mad I suppose. I can’t seem to help myself when she clicks her tongue and calls to me so sweetly. I just can’t. There’s just something she does to me, something I can’t quite put my finger on. Things need to be twisted and taunted, things need to be corrected so she will learn, this I keep telling her.

Anyway. Don’t let me keep you. I hope you enjoy your time here. There is a lot of history to be had from these walls around you. I hope you are open to it’s charms.

If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call. I’m a night owl and welcome the company. Good evening.

Valhalla, Ch. 6 – “Valhalla”

CHAPTER SIX

 

VALHALLA

 

Valhalla feast-booya.jpg

When Ryan stepped off the longship and onto the beach, he paid no attention to the sand beneath his feet or to the scorching hot sun that bore down upon him. His attention was drawn upwards to the majestic structure known as Valhalla that stood high above him.
The enormous hall towered over the longship and its band of new souls and guiding Valkyries, a beacon for those once lost.
Eira walked beside Ryan as they approached, a sullen expression upon her face.
She had been sullen since the morning, Ryan had noticed.
Though he wanted to ask why, he thought it best not to interfere. He didn’t know if he would step on the hierarchy of the Valkyries and cause strife.

A dirt path coiled ahead of them and disappeared behind a hill of luscious flowers, each one a different colour – Lavender, Crimson, Yellow, Deep Blue. Every one just as dazzling as the one before it.
As Ryan moved past the small patch of vibrant flowers, something bright stunned his eyes and forced him to look away, shielding his face.
A group of Valkyries, donned in their silver-gold armour, giggled at him as did so.
“The first time glancing upon Glasir is always hard” Eira said, her voice taking on the same flatness it had when Ryan first met her.
“Look again, Ryan Kennedy.”
“Please…just Ryan.”
Ryan lowered his hands from his face and relaxed his eyes, which were scrunched shut.
“Ryan Kennedy…open your eyes.”
Ignoring the fact that Eira had spoken his name in full again, Ryan opened his eyes.
The shimmering colour of the red-gold leaves of Glasir caught his eye first. In all his years, he had never seen anything quite as breath-taking. The trees he saw in the city back on Earth weren’t anything like this. Even the bark of Glasir took on a grey-white colour that suggested it’s age. How long had it been here?
“Come along, newcomers.” Came a voice from behind Ryan.
Mist, the tall African-American Valkyrie, strode past Ryan without even battering any eyelid in his direction.
Eira looked from Mist back to Ryan and a faint smile appeared on the corners of her mouth.
“Come. The All-Father awaits.”
Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait – All-Father. You mean, Odin?”

Ryan looked ahead. The Valkyrie known as Mist stood before two gigantic iron doors. The doors themselves were marked in the language of Old Norse and depicted some sort of beast slithering around the borders of the door, weaving in and out of the leaves that blossomed around it. In the middle of all of this….
“Ragnarök.” Eira whispered. “It is foretold there will be a great battle, and before it ends, the world will be submerged in water…”
Ryan looked from one door to the next, looking at the figures he didn’t recognise, their stone depictions set in anguish amidst a great storm.
Before he could process anything further, the great doors opened, letting loose the riotous laughter from its halls within.
As the crowd of new souls and Valkyries stepped in, Ryan felt another heartbeat slip from regulation.

Before him was an enormous hall, with giant tables spread from one side of the room to the other, each one surrounded by men, Dwarves, Elves and other creatures Ryan didn’t recognise.
Around the tables were Valkyries – nude, tattooed and pierced – walking around, serving tables, sitting on the laps of Men.
An Elf and a Valkyrie sat off to the corner of the great hall, the Valkyrie riding the Elf and barely able to contain her moans while a group of Elves cheered them on.
The scene was chaos to Ryan, something out of the weirdest porno you’d find on the dark corners of the Internet.
At the far end of the great hall was a stage and on that stage another table, running from one corner of the stage to the other.
In the centre of the table and stage sat Odin, the All-Father. He looked eagerly down the room at the new arrivals as he stroked his grey beard that ran down to the table itself. Ryan noted that over his right eye was a silver eye patch.
His left eye scanned the newcomers as a smile spread across his lips.
In the chair beside Odin sat a woman with sunset-kissed hair, dressed in a dazzling silver-white gown.
As Ryan’s eyes travelled over her, her eyes met his. Ryan didn’t know how that was possible that she could see him, out of the twenty other warriors beside him, but somehow, he just knew. He knew she was looking at him.
“The All-Mother.” Eira whispered from beside him. “She’s seen you now..”
“Wait, what does that mean?” Ryan asked, turning to Eira.
“Warriors! Welcome to Valhalla!” Odin boomed, rising from his seat.
The Valkyries behind Ryan, Eira among them, knelt down at the sound of his voice.
The talking in the hall that buzzed deafeningly as Ryan and the newcomers entered, died down, as did the sexual activity.

Odin spoke in a deep voice, low and smooth and commanding.
“You must be weary after such a travel, after such a change. I trust your assigned Valkyrie will see you to your chambers, should you choose rest. However, a feast has been prepared for your arrival should you starve!”
“Now…” Odin Began. “Each of you know why you are here. Ragnarök is coming. It is foretold. And I…I need each and every one of you to fight when the time comes.”
The great hall was eerily quiet.
Odin cleared his throat. “Do not fret though, you have been chosen. The best of the best in all of the nine realms! I have every bit of confidence in each and every one of you, fighters and my Valkyries.”
Odin scanned the room once more. “Mist! Rise!”
Ryan turned to look behind. The Valkyrie known as Mist rose to her feet. Kneeling beside her was Kára, her head bowed down.
“Warriors, I trust you’ve met Mist but if you have not, as the BattleMistress of the Valkyries, she will be the one to train you, should you feel….weak.”
Odin cleared his throat again, raised his hands and clapped loudly.
“Come! Let us feast!”

The great hall was met with cheers from all around.
Odin laughed then raised his hand to silence the room, which fell quiet instantly.
“Eira.”
Ryan frowned. Every Valkyrie knelt just at the entrance to the great hall turned and looked in her direction.
Kára looked at Eira, a frown forming across her face, her mind beginning to race.
Eira rose to her feet. “Yes, All-Father?”
Her voice was shaky.
“Come to me, child.”
Eira looked at her fellow Valkyries with an expression Ryan could tell was uneasiness.
Quietly, she made her way through the rows of dinner tables, followed by a quiet murmuring from the crowd.
Ryan watched as Eira made her to the stage and stood next to Odin. When she began to kneel again, Odin stopped her.
“There’s no need for that, child. Stand, and lose your armour.”
When Eira looked out across the crowd, the sea of faces, Odin spoke again.
“There is no reason to fear. I merely wish to show people your exquisite beauty.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Eira began to unclasp her armour.
Ryan’s stomach started to twist as her breast plate hit the stage floor with a clang that shot out across the room.
Now that the breastplate was off, Eira, standing in a padded white t-shirt, pulled the fabric up over her head, revealing her small breasts.
Some people in the crowd chuckled, others whistled. Odin silenced both with a raised hand.
“Why is she looking so sad?” Kára hissed through gritted teeth somewhere behind Ryan. “Meeting this request for the All-Father should be an honour!”
“And you were never shy your first time being bare in the great hall?” Shot back another Valkyrie with raven-black hair and violet eyes that was kneeling beside her.
Kára scoffed at this, but fell silent.

When Ryan looked from that exchange back to the stage at the end of the hall, Eira was taking off the clothing beneath her armour, revealing her long pale and slender legs.
This is normal? Thought Ryan. This is what the Valkyries sign up for? This is their destiny? Are they happy? Or is Eira just nervous?
“Now…” Odin began. “Climax.”

Eira looked out amongst the crowd, hesitant.
Ryan could hear Kára from behind scoffing, but movement from the stage caught his eye. Eira had begun to masturbate.
Acid rose up in Ryan’s throat as he watched, but there was something else lingering below the surface. Arousal.
At first, Eira’s hands danced along the shape of her cunt, tracing shapes along her slit. As she traced though, she started to moan.
It was softer at first, then it became louder, ringing out across the hall.
Her knees shook as one hand traced her slit slowly, down…then upwards again, slowly, hypnotically, while the other hand reached up across her stomach to squeeze her right breast.
Ryan watched, conflicted, confused, unable to process if this was alluring or appalling.
All of a sudden he felt a strange sensation in his gut. He felt someone looking at him, and looked across from Eira, where the red-haired woman sat.
This time there was no mistaking it. The woman was looking right at Ryan, all the way down the hall and into his eyes.
When he looked into her eyes, he felt something stir from within.
What is it you fear, Ryan? Came a voice, gentle and sweet.
Ryan could hear it in his head clear as day. It frightened him so much, he fell backwards against the wall of Valhalla, causing the souls and Valkyries to look in his direction, some sniggering at his clumsiness.
They probably thought this is over Eira but….Was that the lady’s voice in my head?
Ryan’s thoughts were interrupted by Eira’s moans. She stumbled from where she stood on stage, her whole body shaking.
As she looked across the great hall, a faint smile formed across her lips.

The great hall applauded thunderously, every creature and Valkyrie, bar two people, Kára and Ryan.
Kára knelt, her head bowed, anger clouding her thoughts, while Ryan stood with his back against the wall, his mind reeling.
As he looked up, his eyes caught Eira’s, and for the briefest of moments, Ryan saw her smile falter.

To be Continued…

 

Exhibitionism and Voyeurism

Exhibitionism and Voyeurism strike a cord with me that I can’t quite explain. But I wanted to talk about it because I’m just about to slip out of my clothes and crawl in besides my honey.

Nakedness thrills me. I love the idea of just laying against my cool sheets, feeling my skin kiss that fabric. I like the idea that my pet may check out my ass, apparently a great feature of mine.

I have flirted with exhibitionism in my past. I’ve fooled around in cinemas and enjoyed a frolic in the park. I’ve strangled my pet in her car, while folks could easily see. I get off on the idea folks might watch but I’ve got a taste for more.

Not all the time, I’ll say. I’m a private man and more often than not, I think my affection for my pet should be between her and I only – in our own little slice of heaven.

But does the thought of exposing her in private arouse me? Mm, somewhat. I will admit to growing excited at the thought of the world seeing her treasures but more often than not, I want her for one person only: myself.

And yet, the idea of making her let out those sweet and soft moans while a neighbour watches her – when I know fully well that she is mine to devour – is arousing. It stirs me. It’s an intriguing thought, to think I want that aspect, have engaged in that aspect. That a part of me wants to share her hardening nipple with the neighbour as a sign of Dominance – as if I’m saying “see this fucker? You can’t have this. I’ve claimed her”

It’s all so sensual and erotic and just liberating and I want to share this with her — and the world.

I guess I’ll file Exhibitionism and Voyeurism under ‘the Beast’ tab, for it seems raw and animalistic and a part of that animal – my own kinky Mr. Hyde.

Sometimes The Animal Wins

Were we always meant to be perverted?

We have our humanity, yes, and a moral code. The sexual predators are the ones that – for whatever reason – don’t and that’s what separates us from them. But is the line sometimes blurred? Do we make up for our animalistic thoughts by weighing it on the scale opposite from the scale that represents all the good we do in our lives?

Maybe I’m over tired. Maybe I’m onto something, maybe I am talking out of my ass here. Sometimes I look at, say, a waitress at a restaurant I’m dining in. I’ll notice everything from the light of her eyes, how she smiles to the way her breasts curve behind her work uniform. I’ll think about her as she passes me and serves the others. I’ll think about the colour of her panties and whether she is shaven or not. It will twist something in my stomach.

I could be sitting across from a woman while out another night. Her legs could be parted ever so slightly, revealing…what? a hint of the colour of her panties? More of her thigh?

I don’t go out into the night to be a womaniser. I was raised by a conservative mother. My family is mostly full of women. I have nothing but respect for women and yeah, when I feel my gaze is looking at the curves of a lady’s ass, I look away. I feel bad. I’m not always looking, you know, but it happens. And I never mean to.

Which is interesting. It’s like I’m waking up out of a dream. Like the animal takes over and despite my humanity, my own moral code and my family full of women, it wants to know about these women. It has a curiosity. An appetite. A sexual hunger.

She could be a woman just working at the grocery store, tattoos up her arm, long luscious brunette hair. And I think: Is SHE submissive? Does she go home at night and browse these blogs? How many times does she masturbate? What kinks is she into?

It’s not something I think with every woman I look at it, let me clear that one up. It’s just sometimes it happens. Sometimes I gaze when I don’t mean to. Sometimes I think when I don’t mean to. Sometimes, for a moment, it feels like ten minutes but in fact it is a few seconds, the animal wins.

And when the moment passes, I’m back to my old self. I’m head over heels for my submissive. I have no desire whatsoever to gaze upon other women. I retain my humanity and my moral code.

So: Were we always meant to be perverted? Does anyone else identify with my thoughts or am I just a sleazy womanising man? Because if that’s my story arc in this saga called life, that’s kind of disappointing. I thought I was better than that.

O Sweet Voyeurism!

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You know..I’ve got to thank you guys for putting up with my rambles. It’s really refreshing to know there are people out there that are squirming to my words, even when I write A LOT. This is going to be a different post. I hope you like it but if I stray too much from the general theme of the blog, please speak up.

Tonight – at least in Australia – I want to talk about Voyeurism. Because It’s something that has been a recurring theme in my life, this I’ll tell you now. From Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho and Rear Window to my adventures as a teenager.

It came to my mind again while I was sitting here just lurking on the pages of the people that enjoy my ramblings. I’m sitting in the lounge room in the dark, just thinking as one tends to do. Then a light shines up through the crack in the blinds, probably coming from the house across the street. But what’s interesting is that my mind jumps to the image of a bedroom window, the blinds slightly open, enough for me to peer through…and when I do, this woman, she’s peeling off her panties and revealing her bare ass to me. And the light of her bedroom bounces off those delicious curves of her ass.

And then I got to thinking. My bedroom window can be easily seen into from the opposite side of the street. I sleep naked every night, I am often naked in my home. Has there been a time where a person has caught the curves of my ass? Or my cock stiffening in the morning, as it tends to do? Do I venture with them into their dreams — or their showers?

Do I…Dominate their mind?

No, this thought has little to do with BDSM but the connecting thread here is my animal. All it took was the light to shine through the blind and my mind jumped to that. What is that? Boiling it off to perversion is too easy. It has to be something deeper than that?

What would I do if this woman caught me undressing in my bedroom? What would I say if she was collecting her mail the same time I was and our eyes met? The thought being —  I know you saw. 

O, such a delicious thought to wrap up the night.