Friday, March 30, 2012

Cruise-spot fuck-pup



The woodland ground is damp and uneven beneath the armoured padding of my knees. My bike leathers feel tight and warm around me: the inbuilt armour limits my movements, but makes me feel contained; safe; secure. The smooth surface creaks against my Man's leather breaches as I wrap my arms tighter around them: reaching upwards to place my gloved hands against the back of His thighs. I can feel the muscles bunch as He slowly grinds His hips forwards - driving Himself deeper into my throat.

Beside Him, just at the edge of my vision, I can see one of the dozen guys who surround us: business suited, cock out and eagerly stroking - his eyes wide at the spectacle of my Master, fully leathered and helmeted with His bike-dog, leathered and hooded at His boots - its muzzle obediently filled with His meat. I hear another of our watchers swear under His breath as my Man grips my chain dog leash between His gloved hands, then wraps it around the back of my head and uses it to pull me hard up against Him - forcing His meat down past my vocal chords and stopping my breath completely. I feel a wash of true pride in knowing that they are in awe as I obediently relax and open myself to Him.

It has been a fantastic day out on the bike. A perfect day with my Master, a chance for His pup to let go of the stresses and strains and simply *be* for a little while: one with the bike, one with my Man - whole and alive and simply a pup again.

We've been to Devises and back - swinging ourselves along the winding country roads, laughing and talking all the way through the intercom in our helmets. Discussing our plans for the imminent release of my book of short stories: agreeing if, where and when we might hold a launch party - and whether to plan a US tour of 'personal appearances' for this book or the next... Talking through ideas for new stories too - and my progress with the book on pup-play that the publishers originally asked me to produce. The weather has been wonderful too - clear and warm and dazzlingly bright, the sun and the nearness of my Man's body heating both my leathers and the rubber one-piece I am wearing beneath it, until I could feel the sweat glossing my skin and pooling distractingly around the soft silicone plug that fills my hole...

That sweat now pools around my knees and trickles down into my boots. As I shift my position, the tight rubber tugs at my encased crotch and squeezes the plug deeper into my aching hole - and a shudder of pleasure ripples through my core. The teasing perversity only makes me more hungry for my Man: my hips buck and a groan rumbles up through my throat - and stirs His own hunger as the vibration ripples around His meat.

This is the second time in the day that I've knelt before Him on the damp ground. He had to stop earlier in the day too: finding a silent road-side copse and swinging off the bike to stride deeper in under the greening trees - His pup pulling off its lid as it scampered after Him, then wordlessly sinking to its knees with thirsty tongue and open throat - greedily glugging down the hot wash of His piss as a truly perverted piss-pup should. He fastened my leash on my collar then too - although then it was to lead me, grinning, four-legged over to a tree so that I could cock a leg and share my own piss with the wild.

He had needed a piss this time too - and brought us to this well known spot between Motorway and junction, knowing that the woods would be filled with cruising men eager for entertainment. He parked the bike up, just short of the waiting parked cars - knew that many of the men would have heard the rich purr of His steed and seen the glint of chrome and leather with dry mouths and sweating palms. He took His time dismounting too: letting them stoke their desire on His leathers, His boots, the shining bike - and the pillion-pup perched behind Him with his arms wrapped tight around His waist. Sure of our audience, He then had me follow Him over the wall and into the trees - His voice over the intercom ordering me to leave my helmet on, so that we could both be hidden in leathered anonymity and power.

I knelt when He told me - finally pulling my lid off when He commanded, but leaving my hooded liner on: only my eyes and my mouth exposed. He let me nuzzle His leathers then - even licking down onto the steel shin-plates of His MX boots whilst we listened to the crack and rustle of leaves as our audience nervously made their way through the trees, wondering what they might find here in the gloom. Then I grinned up at the blank swing of His helmeted head as He wordlessly challenged each man to step forward into our clearing - then placed His one hand possessively upon my head as the other slowly drew down His zipper. There was total silence when His voice echoed from the helmet: telling His dog "Gentle now, dog - take your Man's piss..."

A few of the men overcame their fear whilst I worked Him deep into my throat - the ring of their hunger slowly closing inwards, drawn by the primal power of these leather-clad Men from out of their fantasies. A few reached hands out to touch, but shied back when that cold helmeted stare swung towards them - challenging them to look, but forbidding them from being allowed to do more. I know that we both drew power from their hungry gazes - and their frustrated desire to be a part of this taboo tableau of leather and masculine power.

Their hunger made His release all the more perfect when I finally milked His cum from Him with my tongue and the rippling pulsing of my throat. It made my own shuddering hump of His leg afterwards all the more purely bestial too.

And then - with us both sated, but our frantic audience only teased and frustrated - He pulled me to my feet, ordered me to pull on my helmet once more, then locked on my leash and led us both back to the bike - the circle parting before Him without a word.

Not a single man followed us back - but I know that every one of them will carry the image of us in their fantasies for many years to come.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

'The black bridge'

A little warning: this might be considered a darker post than normal. But I try to be honest here, and so sometimes there is darkness just as there is light...


I have been living with depression for several years (triggered by some rather extreme work and life stresses including health problems with my back and several years of uncertainty over my job). I am glad to say that things have been better for a while, and so my Dr and I are taking advantage of the Spring to slowly reduce my medication, with the aim to have me drug-free by the summer. I know that we will get there, but the process of coming off has been a little hard, and I have had several difficult days - which probably made me a little more open than normal to my Friend Sophie's latest blog entry "The black bridge" - a deeply personal account of one of the darkest times in her own life when she came very close to choosing the door marked 'exit'.

I love her for her honesty, and the beautiful way in which she tells the story. I know how hard it was for her to write about that time, and the empty black space she was living in - I know, because I have been in the same place too, more than once. I know just how hard it is to admit to feeling that bad, that unhappy, that 'just not being' seems to be the only available solution. I know how hard it is to accept that you have suffered those feelings, because in doing so you have to look into that hollowness inside - and you fear that the  blackness will pull you back down into it, just like the 'exhaust of a passing express' threatened to pull Sophie from the bridge.

But, I also know that we can only overcome that emptiness and pain by facing it - because in doing so, we realise that it is not us, only something that is happening to us - and that, like all things, it will pass.

Like Sophie, I was lucky: I had the perfect exit arranged, but in the moments before I followed through, I managed to remember all the mess that my unexpected death would leave for the people I had loved. Perhaps I was also 'lucky' in that a very good friend of mine did surrender to that dark place a few years before I stood in the same place - I lived through her suicide, and so I was reminded from personal experience just how much pain and mess is left behind. I don't blame her, any more than I blame anyone else who has felt so unbearably empty of everything but pain that they need only to make that pain stop. How could I blame her or them, since I know a little of how she felt, and planned to do the same myself?

However - I am glad that I didn't give in to that painful emptiness. I am glad that instead of fleeing that pain, I surrendered to feeling it; because, in doing so I found that it was neither as deep nor as permanent as I thought. I also discovered that I was infinitely stronger and more resilient than I could ever have imagined.

Just as Sophie did. And just as many others who have not made that leap have done too. It leaves its scars, but it is also what makes us not only survivors - but also stronger than most in the long run.

So, why do I share this now?

Because talking about it helps myself and others. It helps me because in expressing that pain, I am reminded that I overcame it - and can do so again. It might also help others who are in that pain now, by knowing that there are other souls who know and understand a little of how they feel - and who can offer personal hope that there is life beyond these darkest of times. And I hope that it also helps those of you who have never felt that pain, by helping you to understand a little better of the places that pain can take those of us who have been under its spell...

But - it does get better. And I know that I need to remember that, as much as anyone else. Not always and forever - that's only in fairy-tales - but it really does get better.


Tuesday, March 27, 2012

now on Facebook

I've just created a 'bootbrush' Facebook page - so that any of my fetish friends will be able to find me under my pup name there, instead of having to go via my 'Professional and family-friendly' pages:


It's also where I will post details of any book launches, signings, personal appearances, etc... ;)


Monday, March 26, 2012

Beautiful people

You might have seen a new link on my 'favourites' to the right: 'Sophie in Wonderland' is the incredibly personal writings of a colleague and friend where I work. And Sophie really has had a genuinely 'interesting' life - one that might have proven too much for many - yet despite all that life has washed over her, she still manages to not only stay standing, but  to do so with grace and elegance.

As an example of the beauty and perception in her writing - take a look at 'Minerva and the pebble'.

with love for all the broken and beautiful people
bootbrush

Friday, March 23, 2012

proofing, proofing - yet more proofing



Nazca Plains have done an amazingly quick job in returning the initial proofs for "Assimilation", so I'm busy editing out the odd typo and random hyphenations at the moment. I would be ashamed at how many I let through on the 1st proof, but they say that it is normal to spot more with the change in format.

I am really happy with how the illustrations came out. We ended up going for the 'charcoal' effect photos - with a different one for each of the 20 stories within the collection. Full page, they look amazing (even if i do say so myself!).

...he moves and thinks so much like a real dog, tail wagging in pleasure...”


It's probably really sad, but i must admit to be incredibly excited about how good it  all looks!  :)))

I hope to have the draft cover shortly, together with the details on how to go about getting yourself a copy - so watch this space...

Monday, March 19, 2012

Manuscript finished at last!


Phew!

It has been a manic 2 weeks of re-writes and proofing (my thanks to Loki, Bob and Shaz for their sterling work!) - and a very odd 48 hours of very little sleep whilst I assembled the final document in time for the deadline - but finally, the manuscript for my book has gone off to Nazca Plains!

The working title is "Assimilation: tales of transformation and surrender" - and includes over 20 stories featuring various fetish elements: from hypnosis to pup-play, bondage to water-sports - and lots and lots of rubber. And all of it illustrated too... ;)

We're hoping for publication late in April - but I will post details here (and on the Nazca site) when we have a confirmed date. (Handler has even suggested that we could arrange a book-launch somewhere interesting - if anyone in the UK has ideas...?)

Now - a little sleep, then to start back on the manuscript for "An old dog's advice to young pups..."



Thursday, March 08, 2012

Artwork and book illustrations


'Wuff' (edited photo)

i've been at home looking after a sick-parrot for a few days (no, literally! Geoff and I have a small menagerie, including a 2 year old gold-crested Amazon - who got into some house plants, and so has had to be on poison watch for a few days). The parrot's OK - but it gave me a chance to work on some ideas i have to illustrate my new book of short stories.

What do you think? i would genuinely appreciate comments - here or via the usual methods if you have them... (note: the watermarks won't be there in the book! ;) )


'Boot-boy' (pencil sketch from photo)

(Original, edited photo)


'Hooded' (edited photo)

'Pup!' (edited photo)

'Assimilation' (edited photo)

Friday, March 02, 2012

To love, serve and obey (MSC Bournemouth, Feb 2012)




There is an incredible beauty and calm in simply obeying Him.


He rarely raises His voice: He knows that a quietly spoken word speaks more than any shout ever could. My puppy ears are so tuned to Him and my desire to serve so strong, that a simple word or gesture is all that i require: "Lick my balls" - and i do so without thought or question; "Take my cock" - and my mouth opens and throat relaxes; "Let me in, boy" - and my hole shudders open to take Him...


In simple obedience i am freed from the need to second-guess His desires - or question my own ability to give Him the pleasure He wishes. In simple obedience i can surrender, submit - let go and simply be - and in being, be HIS.


But there is also a joy in anticipating His needs too: standing ready with His jacket when He rises to leave - holding it open and sliding it over His shoulders... unpacking His case, quietly hanging His leathers, rolling and storing His belts and Sam Brown... wordlessly kneeling to buckle His boots - or offering my hands as His boot-jack to help Him slide out of them at the end of the day...  i love to offer Him these small moments of service: His Gentleman's gentleman performing little acts of ease that make His day that bit simpler - and express my own deep devotion and sense of purpose.

--o--

These thoughts run through me as i lie quietly in His sleeping arms - watching the sun draw lines of gold through the drawn curtains and across the white ceiling of our hotel room. Outside, the seaside town goes about its business - the sounds of passing cars, children playing, and the harsh staccato calls of seagulls on the sea-front - but here within the protecting curve of my Man's body, i am perfectly at peace: His chest and belly firm and warm against my naked back, His arm beneath my head and His hand clasped possessively around my wrist.


We are down on the South Coast - here for the MSC Bournemouth 26th birthday weekend. Although it is still only February, we have had beautifully spring-like weather: perfect for the long ride down to the coast together, with the dog hugging my Man and stroking His chest through His leathers all the way - making Him laugh as i croon my love for Him and excitement over the coming weekend through the helmet intercom. The pup was also ridiculously proud of a new pair of Diadora motocross boots that it was breaking in...


We even made a short stop at the Royal Signals Museum on the way - which was an interesting experience in itself, since we had to be given identity cards to enter the Camp, and then parked the bike by kennels with the other dogs barking to see the pup's ears flapping on its helmet. Whilst we walked around the displays Sir also told me a little about His own father's expertise in signalling and morse-code and resulting war-time work at Bletchley Park - a part of the reason for His own interest in the Museum.

The evening saw us down on the coast and booking into our cliff-top Hotel - Sir having arranged for us to have this top-floor room with amazing views over the bay towards the Isle of White and the Needles. There was also a friendly meet-and-greet at the Club's home bar, with a really nice buffet (no soggy half-thawed quiche this time!) and a chance to catch up with old friends.

We didn't stay too late though - since my Man had plans for snuggling with His pup and making use of its eager little tongue...


Saturday saw us breakfasting at the eclectically furnished Flirt cafe (with waffles and milkshakes so good that we had to come back several times throughout the weekend). We then headed out for a pleasantly relaxed day's riding out to Corfe Castle and Swanage - coming back via the chain ferry and Sandbanks.


The evening was then filled with an incredibly pleasant formal birthday dinner for the club, beautifully hosted at the Yenton Hotel - ending with a relaxed social in their bar, with Sir in a fire-side wing-backed chair, His pup kneeling at His boots and nuzzling His meat whilst He chatted and socialised and made everyone envious of the love and service a dog can bring...


Now, lying here in the early morning warmth of our hotel room and thinking of the pleasure we have had, i cannot help but grin and wiggle my puppy-butt further back into the warmth of my slumbering Man - still asleep, He responds to my fidgeting: tightens His grip on my wrist and pulls me closer into His embrace; His leg entwines my own and He shifts His weight to pin me beneath Him - and i am suddenly flooded with intense memories of the night before...:

--o--

We came back late from the dinner: both of us formally dressed in uniform shirts and sam-brown belts, heavy boots and premium leather - the yellow-stripes on my Man's chaps accentuating the length and power of His beautiful 6'4" frame. i stand behind Him, wrap my arms around His chest in a sighing puppy-hug and momentarily press my face into His back: breathe the heady scent of His leather. He growls deep in His chest in appreciation, then lifts out His arms - at His wordless instruction i help Him off with His bike jacket and quietly hang it in the wardrobe - then do the same with my own.

i turn - and find Him hungrily watching me from under the peak of His muir. He quietly points to the floor by His boots with a gloved hand - and i cross the room to sink to my knees before Him: never once letting my eyes leave His own - knowing that He can see the love and hunger that shines there.

He lets me hug His leg for a moment - strokes and fondles my bowed head in affection - then wordlessly places His hand on my collar and uses it to guide me down the thick leather that encases His leg and down onto His boots. i leave a wet trail of devotion as i kiss every inch of His leg, then settle down to the floor: my tongue and mouth both hungry to show Him my love and obedience as they bring His boot leather to a spit-wet shine.

He hooks one booted toe under my hips and nudges my arse high - reaches down to stroke and then strike my leather enfolded arse with the gloved flat of His hand. Gentle at first - teasing and warming - then harder and harder - spanking me over and over as i wriggle and writhe in pleasure and then pain - face and boot-leather wet with my drool.

He takes hold of my collar - moves across the room to sit upon the sofa - the dog following obediently at heel on its knees. He sits as He did at the club: relaxed with one boot resting upon His knee. i stare up at Him as i trace my tongue along the buckles and then the instep - looking for permission - then bury my face submissively into the sole when He gives me a nod - my eyes burning into His as i taste the ridged rubber cleats and the steel toe-protectors.

His eyes shine as He growls "Pervert" at me - and my cock kicks hard inside my leathers at this verbal badge of honour and pride.

He plants one boot upon my chest - pushes me back with it; i am breathless, my heaving chest stretching the tight leather of my uniform shirt. He lowers the boot, nudges the tight pulsing mound of my cock through the denim shorts that i wear beneath my own yellow-striped chaps - i lean forward: press myself into Him so that His boot sole crushes my eager cock and painfully trapped balls. He tips His head to one side - watching, enjoying His dog's perversity - then removes His booted foot and tells me:

"Everything off - then i want you in just those chaps, your boots and chest harness"

i rush to obey - smoothly and quietly removing shirt, and shorts, then pulling my chaps back on and buckling my harness over my inked pecs. Already shirtless and harnessed, He sits and watches me from His seat: enjoying the quiet efficiently of my impromptu strip-show.

Dressed and ready as ordered, i stand with my feet spread shoulder-width apart - my hands clasped behind me and my head bowed in a show of submission and respect. He smiles at my obedience - then picks a fresh white bath towel from the stack beside the bed and throws it towards me - tells me to spread it on the floor and take my position upon it like a good dog...

Down on all fours: arms and legs spread, abs tight and shoulders braced, my naked dripping cock and aching balls swinging beneath me - the gentle curve of my lower back exposing the silver glint of the heavy steel plug that has filled my hole since the fucking He gave me the night before. He kneels behind me - places one gloved hand upon my back and traces the fingers of the other down my spine and into the crack between my arse cheeks; He commands me to "Present" and i brace my body tight: head high and my back arched to give Him ease of access. His hand is strong and firm as He slowly pulls the still-warm plug from my straining body - and opens my hole, ready to take Him once more.

He kneels behind me - the thick leather of our chaps pressed together whilst His sheathed cock presses lightly against my aching ring. i quiver at how much i want and need to take Him inside me - and know that He wants me just as badly. But He makes us both wait: holds Himself there on the edge whilst He feels my tight ring of muscle twitch and clench and grow in heat and hunger; i can feel the thob of His blood as it fills His head to swelling fullness - the steady pulse of His heart against my aching ring.

He takes a hold of my waist, then slowly drives his hips forward - waiting for each muscular clench and relax before sinking Himself a little further into me. He takes His time: makes me wait, makes me relax - forcing me to focus on His meat, millimetre by millimetre, as it slowly edges its way into me and intrudes into my core. Entering me gradually - training my hole as He trains my throat: slowly and gently forcing me to relax and open and take Him at HIS pace.

This slow fucking is painful, almost excruciating - and i gasp and moan as i struggle to open myself up piece by piece. i clench and relax my deep muscles as i have been taught - let my mind focus only on the feel of Him as He slowly invades my inner core. i can't help but try to draw Him deeper inside of me - hungry to feel the heat and pulse of Him pushing up inside me and spearing down into me - but even though i am eager for Him, my hole is already sore from both a day of wearing the plug and the hard fucking He took from me earlier in the morning. i try to clear my head from the urge to protest or beg Him to stop, try to open myself up and welcome this invasion - but my body ignores me and my muscles clench in rebellion; the stinging burn of its resistance is almost too much to bear, and i cannot stop the whimpering cry of pain that rises in my throat.

He leans over me - presses His mouth to my ear and whispers: "Don't let me hurt you, pup"

i know He means it - but i can't let Him stop now - cannot fail both Him and myself, nor draw back this heat and hunger that is consuming us both. And i confess that there is also a part somewhere inside of me that almost welcomes my body's animal resistance, welcomes the pain - and welcomes my own utter powerlessness - because they are genuine signs and proof of His dominance and my total submission.

i fight with my body - feel His strength, and power. i let myself feel the truth of my position: know that i cannot move, that i cannot resist Him - know that His hunger and manhood are far greater than i. i know that submission is implicit in being His dog: that my body is His, that my hunger is His - that my pain and my surrender are all i can give Him at this moment. And as i truly feel my powerlessness - and accept it, something inside of my mind finally gives way - like the parting of wet tissue-paper, or the exhalation of a too-long held breath - and all of the fight and the resistance disappears from me in a shuddering, sobbing surrender to Him: to His meat and His fucking and my true place as HIS.

And in that wash of surender, my body is suddenly free to respond to Him as it should: in a flush of heat that transforms the pain into a wave of bone-deep pleasure so intense that it makes my vision white-out and the deep core of my body shudder and grind with an overwhelmingly animal hunger.

He knows my surrender - feels my hips start to buck and grind - and slowly He pushes us both to the floor. With my hungry body now restrained beneath His, He wraps His legs around mine, slides His hands underneath my shoulders and grabs my wrists. With a deep grunt He exerts His strength and pulls my body taught beneath Him: spreading my legs and forcing Himself deep into my helpless hole. i hear my own whining growl as i try to take Him - wanting Him, needing Him but still struggling with the intensity of His hunger and the power of His control.

He has me push us back up onto all fours, pulls us up onto our knees - then finally stands. Cock still buried deep in the heat and hunger of His dog, He pushes us both up against the side of the bed. Following a pure animal instinct, i step my boots up onto the mattress, brace my legs and press my back against Him - grind my hole in circles upon Him that has Him grunting in pleasure.

He pushes us both back down onto the bed - legs wrapped around mine pulling them open once more, His arms pressed against my shoulders and hands holding my head - i am held in the vice of His body as He powers down into me: holding me still, trapping me beneath Him - restraining my now helplessly hungry body beneath Him. His gloved hand clasps over my mouth and nose - muffling my grunts and moans as He fucks me harder - His balls pressed up against my ring with each deep thrust, forcing Himself into me deeper and deeper, over and over. No longer able to know whether i feel pain or pleasure, i growl and gasp and scream into His silencing glove.

Eventually, He takes pity - moves us back to the edge of the bed so that He can place His boots on the floor, and then starts to slowly withdraw. Although my hole burns and stings and aches - still i hear one forbidden word escape me:

"No...!"

He leans forward over me, incredulous: "Did My dog just say no to me?!"

i try to turn my head - wriggle my butt - gasp "i'm sorry Sir - but please - please, don't stop!"

He thrusts down deep into me - hard and sudden - and i gasp and wince in the pain that stabs through my core. "You still want this, dog - think you can handle more?" - i nod and wriggle once more - mouth suddenly dry at the realisation of what i am asking - but i know that no matter how much this abuse may hurt, the emptiness of Him not being there within me will hurt even more...

He holds me down and fucks me hard then - harder than He ever has before: fully unleashing His hunger in a show of pure and unthinking dominance: taking His pleasure from me with little care for my winces and shuddering gasps.

The pain is short lived and cleansing: a reminder that i need Him and love Him, and will take anything for Him.


When He is done, He finally withdraws - oblivious to my whimpering. But He then belies the apparent aggression and heedlessness of the play by gently kissing my smarting hole, then pulls me to Him in a warm and comforting embrace - stroking my head and telling me how happy His dog makes Him - how much He loves His dog and the depth with which he tries to please his Man, regardless of what it might cost. i shudder and sob into His chest, loving Him more than ever before.

We lie together for a while, boots and leather-clad legs entwined - i can feel both the fur of His chest hair and the coolness of His chain harness against my back. Whilst my hole twitches and burns, my own unspent cock still pulses and drips upon my newly tattooed stomach.

He untangles our legs - playfully pushes me towards the edge of the bed with one boot and then tells me to help Him take them off. i kneel and grin back at Him as i un-clip each fastening and slowly ease them from His feet - then grin even wider as i hold both boots between my knees: my wet cock trapped between them...

He rises to my unspoken pleading - climbs from the bed to stand behind me, then unbuckles the harness from His chest and places the rubber horse-bit at its heart between my teeth. His gloved hand pulls my head back against His belly, and i stare up into His face - suddenly burning once more with hunger and passion. He gives a little appreciative upward nod with His head - and tells me: "Go on then dog: fuck my boots like a proper pervert"

He releases my head and i sink down onto all fours - His still-warm boots underneath me, encircling my cock and trapping the delicate flesh between them. My hips slowly rise and fall - gliding my precum-wet head across the thick-grained leather, and pushing between the moulded plastic and metal. The many textures and sensations make me shudder with their intensity - and the pure perversity of the act makes my balls ache with arousal. He pulls back on the chain harness, makes the rubber bit press back into my tongue and bite into the corners of my mouth - forcing my head up and back so that i am held in "Present" position even as my hips thrust and pound.

His eyes burn into mine from beneath His muir - growling and snarling at me in encouragement as i work my perverted dog-cock down into His empty boots: lost in pure perversity with His rubber bit between my teeth and my drool splattering onto the floor as i grind my cock between them. i shift myself a little so that the toe caps will press my balls hard back against my body - and the painful ache only rouses my hunger all the more. The rough boot leather makes my cock burn and sting even as i rise higher towards climax.

i let myself go, become nothing more than His dog: humping my Man's empty boots like a true boot-pervert whilst He stands behind me, controlling me with His bit. When i cum, He lets me kneel and lick every drop from the leather and steel, moaning and barking in perverted exctasy...

--o--

i am broken from my morning revelry when my Man stirs beside me and i feel His hand warm and strong as it encircles my cock: hard and already wet from the erotic memories that have flooded my mind.

He leans up on an elbow to stare down at my prone and open body - looks down towards my cock where it twitches and drips in His hand:


"My dog thinking about last night?" He leans down to breath into my ear, and i can't help but laugh and wiggle my butt in answer.

"Careful now boy - you know where that will lead..." 


i want to wag my tail all the harder at the thought - but know that my abused hole will only protest if He acts upon it, and so try to still and calm my body's natural exuberance.

He looks down at me, and i can see His own hunger as it rises behind His gaze - see it fight with His desire not to push His pup too hard or to hurt him too much. His grip releases my cock and He pulls aside the duvet to reveal His own meat - so full and hard that it makes my mouth wet with the hunger to taste Him.

"Lick my balls" - and i slide down His body to graze my tongue along and over each swelling, roiling jewel. "Take my cock" - and i slide my head down, rippling my tongue beneath Him as my throat opens and relaxes to take Him so deep that i feel His balls against my lips and the puckered ring of His hole against my nose - hungrily breathing in the rich scent of His hunger. "Lick my hole" - and my tongue leaves the wet treasure of His meat to sink into the hot, tight clasp of His core...

In simple obedience i surrender, submit - let go and simply be - and in being, be HIS.

i am lost in pleasure and obedience - until finally He takes my head in His hands, pulls me up to His face and kisses me long and deep.

Then He points across the hotel room towards the kettle - and smiles as He nudges me in the chest and gives a mockingly angry "Tea!"

--o--


Thursday, March 01, 2012

Paypal censors erotic fiction?

As an erotic writer, I find this latest move to censor adult purchasing extremely disturbing:

PayPal Strong-Arms Indie Ebook Publishers Over Erotic Content
Summary: PayPal has forced its merchants that publish and distribute e-books to censor erotic literature. By  | February 27, 2012, 3:08am PST


Paypal is the largest and most common online payment client - but they are not the only payment processor who is considering banning all adult-themed purchasing - Amazon has also informed its clients that their policies are due to change in the very near future.

So why is this happening?

It appears that Paypal et al are responding to the credit card companies, banks, and credit unions - this move to ban Adult purchasing actually comes from them:
We're sorry. Your bank says you can't read that. - Los Angeles Books | Examiner.com  
So, rather than being a 'moral crusade' from Paypal, this is all blamed on purely business reasons: the 'Adult' market is considered high-risk, with many purchases resulting in customer disputes and 'buyer's remorse' - which in turn leads to charge-backs (and the credit company losing money) - which they in turn pass on to Paypal in additional fees. The only credit companies that allow charging for adult services do so at highly exorbitant fees and additional charges, to 'off-set' their perceived risk...

So where does that leave us - the perverts and those who wish to supply them? For now, who knows...!


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