I kissed a girl


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(among other activities).

And I really, really liked it. 😀


Wednesday night


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Every Wednesday, I do a quick clean-up of the house in preparation for our cleaning lady coming on Thursday, on the premise that she can’t possibly clean if there’s “stuff” scattered all over the house instead of being put away where it belongs. That includes putting away whatever sex toys, books, or weapons of ass destruction might be lying around.

Hey, my cleaning lady is old, I don’t want to be responsible for giving her a coronary. 😉

In the midst of cleaning up the bedroom last night, I was sorting through the pile of toys on the bed, and I realized something was missing.

“Where are the butt plugs?” I muttered to myself.

Himself, chuckling, replied “That’s not a phrase that probably comes up in ordinary conversation for most people.”

Hm. Yeah, probably not. Then again, no one has ever accused us of being like “most people.” 😀

New toys for a wench


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My name is deviant wench, and I am a toy slut.

I can spend hours online perusing sex toys on sites like Amazon, Extreme Restraints, Strict Leather, Sears…

Wait, what?

Yeah, that’s right, I said Sears. The world is changing rapidly, my friends!

I haven’t bought any toys since the glass plug back in February, and I was getting antsy. So when Himself suggested I buy another butt plug…well, let’s just say he didn’t have to tell me twice. 😀

Toys are like Lays Potato Chips, though–you can’t have just one. Especially when you’ve got Amazon Points and free shipping and a long list of bookmarked “I wants.”

I have been looking at stainless steel butt plugs for years. I fantasized about how the weight would feel in my ass, how the plug would be smooth, how it would warm to my body, even what it would feel like chilled in the fridge…

And what girl could resist such pretty, sparkly jewels?


They’re spendy, though, so I’ve always talked myself out of buying one–until this week, when I found a lovely little set of 2 on a deep discount.


The small one is REALLY small, like junior-starter-sized, but that’s okay: it’ll be good for extended wear if I’m going to be doing a lot of sitting or walking, but with enough weight to remind me of what’s inside.

Stainless and Glass

The larger one is just a smidge taller than the glass plug, but without the extra flare at the wide point that makes the glass one difficult to use without a LOT of preparation. The narrower stem will also make it more comfortable for extended wear.

I can’t wait to show Daddy. ❤

I indulged my ongoing love affair with glass toys, which really do have the most amazing texture and heft, with a lovely two-headed glass dildo.

2 head It’s small enough to go wherever I might want it, big enough to notice, and nicely curved to allow for g-spot stimulation and a good grip during self-play. I hope to try it out this weekend which, since Himself loves putting things inside me, shouldn’t be hard to accomplish. 😉

Finally, because I have an insatiable, obsessive love of suction play, I bought the Size Matters Twist-Up Nipple and Clit Suckers that I’ve had my eye on for over a year.


Daddy is not into suction play the way I am, so I mostly use them for self-play. We both reap the benefits of the increased size and sensitivity, though. These things have a wicked grip, with just two twists providing some serious suction, as demonstrated below on my arm (sorry, folks, but Himself still enforces the “no naked wench pictures” rule for my blog). I am eager to discover what joys they might provide for my pink bits. 😀


I feel the sudden need to retire to the bedroom–I hear some new toys calling my name. 😀

Happy wench!


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Himself is coming home tonight–a whole day early!

We’ll finally have time to break in my wonderful new first-ever glass toy:

New Toy

It’s the biggest thing (besides Himself) that I’ve ever had in my ass: 3.5″ long (3.25″ insertable length), 5.5″ around, with a 3.25″ circumference shaft.

I wore it overnight while He was gone last week, and it was so hot, just thinking about wearing it for him.

When He puts it in me, the weight will be a constant reminder that He owns me, that I am His to do with as He pleases, and that it pleases Him for my ass to be stretched and ready for His hot, hard cock.

And that it pleases Him that I am His. 

Hi Daddy!


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Sweater Girls

You’ve been gone a WHOLE DAY. Do you miss us yet? We sure miss you. ::smooch::

Crazy Little Thing Called Love


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Because I miss him, and I’m glad he’s coming home tonight, and my heart is just…full.

Run, Snow Patrol

When this song came out, Himself and I were living apart: we were moving cross-country and I had gone on ahead to start my new job. One night, on the phone, he told me that this song reminded him of us, because of how much we love each other.

Breathe, Maria McKee

I saw this song on Nightmusic many, many years ago (1991), long before I met Himself. At the time, I thought “I want a love like this.” I never expected to find it–and then He came in to my life. Now I live it each and every day.

Dancing with Tears In My Eyes, Ultra Vox

The love in this video makes me cry every time I see it.

Lover’s Concerto, The Toys

Based on Minuet in G (one of my favorite classical pieces), by Christian Petzold (NOT Bach, as is commonly believed), this song has it all: Wonderful melody, wonderful lyrics, and such a beautiful voice. How can you listen to this and not think of your beloved?

Love Never Dies (Parts 1 and 2), and Nearer, Apoptygma Berzerk

These songs, like Breathe, came out when I was still with my ex-husband… I ached for the type of love and passion I heard here, but thought I would never know it. And then Himself walked into my life.
Love Never Dies, Part 1

Love Never Dies, Part 2

Nearer (Album Version)

All I Need, AwolNation

For Himself, who is all I need.


Circle (For My Master)


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I am curled around you
are curled around me
like cats,
over, under, between.
I taste your skin
salty/sweet between my teeth.
Arch and thrust,
the first steps in the ancient dance.
No more I and You,
just We.

© deviant wench 2002, all rights reserved

(Welcome home, Sir)

In which His Inner Sadist comes out to play


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“Come here,” he orders, “and take your clothes off.”

I obey quickly. Now I am naked, and he is dressed, and I feel a shiver go through me that has nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

“Kneel,” he commands.

I quickly assume the position, and he pulls my head toward his crotch and rubs my face against his hard cock. It makes me happy that he gets just as turned on from dominating me as I do from being dominated, and I hum a little while I nuzzle him.

After a trip to the toy cabinet he sits again, holding my collar. I lean forward so he can fasten it around my neck, and I start to relax; warmth starts building inside me. Then he tilts my chin up to put on my blindfold, and I meet his eyes for a moment, and smile. The act of him putting it on, of taking away my sight, always pushes me toward subspace, makes it easier somehow for me to stop thinking, to just feel and react and submit.

I start to feel a little floaty.

He fastens my leash to the ring on my collar, and I get floatier. God, I love that leash. “Wrist,” he says, and I lift my left hand for him to fasten the cuff—and suddenly, kneeling there on the floor, wearing my collar and my leash, I feel like a puppy lifting her paw. And although I have no interest in puppy play, still, this makes me feel giggly and happy, and I laugh while he fastens all my cuffs in place.

He pulls my leash, until I crawl up and across the bed. He fastens my leash to the bed, then clips ropes to my wrist cuffs. As he goes to fasten my ankles, he pauses.

“How did you get those bruises on your leg?”

“I have no idea,” I say, “I just noticed them this morning. I probably ran into something,” which is a common occurrence for me.

“Hmm,” he says, and fastens my ankle cuffs to the ropes.

I’m already so turned on that I’m close to dripping, and my happiness level is skyrocketing. I stay in position, kneeling on all fours, happy little sub, waiting to see what will come next.

WHACK! is what comes next.

“Ouch!” I yell, then laugh, because it didn’t really hurt, it just surprised me.

“That’s for not taking care of yourself,” he says sternly.

“Thank you, Sir!” I answer. Then: “You love me,” happily. It strikes me as slightly absurd that he is expressing his love and concern about my well-being by whacking me, and that I am happy about it. This is a strange life sometimes.

He swats me a few more times, then hits me with my be-hatted ping-pong paddle (yes, I bought a hat for it, it’s soft and snuggly and it makes the paddle thud instead of sting, and I love it very much, even if it does have a dingle-ball on top 😀 ). It feels so good, and I moan and push my rump back toward him, asking for more.

“I think I could hit you with this all night, and you wouldn’t complain.”

I make a happy little sound of agreement.

“But what fun would that be?” he asks rhetorically, and swats me again–with the bare paddle. I screech—damn, that hurts!–and he chuckles.

That should have been my first warning.

“I don’t know why we even have this,” he muses, and hits my ass with something stingy, “this mini-flogger with the leather tails, we never use it. I know why we have THIS, though,” he says, and I hear a CRACK! as a line of fire flares across my ass. I yowl in earnest, then whimper and wiggle a few times, waiting for the pain to die down.

“I so need to get rid of that fucking crop!” I gasp when I can breathe again.

“You’re not allowed to get rid of it,” he says smugly, “I like it.”

He beats me with other implements of destruction for a few minutes. My ass is getting warm, and everything is starting to feel more like pleasure and less like pain. I pout when he stops.

Then I hear it the sound of a dial, and I smell ozone.

“Oh, shit!” I say, with real feeling. I love my violet wand, I do, but I also hate it, because he can **zzaaapp** me like nobody’s business with that thing.

He starts out slow, though, and I settle in and enjoy the lovely, light electrical charge against my skin.

“Well, that’s obviously not high enough,” he says, and turns the dial up. It’s a little stronger, but still bearable, and he is disappointed, because he wants to hear me yip. So he cranks it up again and I can hear it whirring, and I know this time, this time, it’s gonna hurt.

“No no no no no no no no no no!” I wail, not even waiting to feel it. He chuckles–an evil, evil chuckle–and zaps my cunt with a full charge.

I howl, I mean really HOWL, and try to flatten myself against the bed, but he just chuckles again, and starts working me over. Damn this blindfold, I can’t see where he is and I don’t know where he’s going to get me next until ZZAAAPP! and I scream again.

“Up,” he says, tapping under my rib cage. “Noooo,” I whimper, because I know what’s coming. “Up!” he says again, and this time there is no missing the command. I lever myself up reluctantly, and he grabs my breast, holds it still, then ZZAAAAPPP!!! right on the nipple. I scream–the kind of scream that, if we lived in the city, would probably result in multiple 911 calls. It takes me a few seconds to catch my breath, and I think “Okay, that hurt, but it can’t get any worse than that.”

He lets the wand build up another good charge, I brace myself–

And then he lets his Inner Sadist come out to play

Oh. My. God.


Molten fire runs up my leg, across my back, and down the other side again. It is pain like I have never felt. I screech, buck, struggle to get away, but I’m trapped. The wand has never felt like this before, and I wonder what he’s doing different, but when he does it again, I stop thinking.

Finally he stops to let me catch my breath.

“What are you DOING to me??” I demand.

“Well,” he says, “you keep saying you want me to use the wheel on you.”

“That’s the WHEEL?” I ask in disbelief. “What are you doing to make it feel like that??”

He chuckles, and I gasp as he puts another stripe of fire across my ass, right where the crop hit me.

“You said you wanted to try using it with the wand,” he says, in an oh-so-matter-of-fact voice.

Well, wait a minute. I mean, I’ve used that thing on myself, with the wand, and it NEVER felt like this. Before I can gather my thoughts enough to ask another question, though, he leans over and runs it up my ribs, across my breast, and over my nipple.

I jump, and give another horror-movie-worthy scream.

“Don’t move!” he orders sharply. “You’re going to get hurt if you move.”

Going to get hurt? GOING to get hurt? What do you call this, then??

“I don’t understand,” I wail. “It’s never felt like this before!”

No answer, he just keeps running it across my breasts and nipples, down my stomach, across my labia, back up again. Back to the legs, up my back, around the front again, over and over. I am yipping and kee-kee-kee-ing, running through my entire repertoire of “Fuck that hurts!” noises, and trying so hard to stay still.

He goes back to my nipples, lingering there for awhile. My poor nipples are never going to be the same, I think sadly to myself. Then around the back side, down to my anus, and–holy shit, if I thought my nipples were sensitive, they have nothing on my asshole. I struggle to stay still, scared of what those sharp, electrified spines will do to my ass if I move wrong.

“Don’t move,” he says again, and runs it up my labia from the back, up to my pubes, then back down the center line, and across my hard clit.

At this point I discover that I can scream much, much louder than I had ever thought possible.

And also that I can not keep myself still under this type of assault.

He pulls the wheel away. “I told you not to move!” he reproves me.

“Would you be able to stay still if I was running that thing across your balls and up your cock??” I demand, not really caring that I’m being obstreperous.

“That doesn’t matter,” he says calmly, “because I’m not the one that’s tied up.”

“You’re a sadist!” I screech. “I don’t care whether you like that term or not, you are an absolute SADIST!!”

And he chuckles. The bastard CHUCKLES.

I growl.

Then I feel his hand on me, stroking my clit, my pussy. I’m hot, and wet, and my clit is hard, and when he pushes his finger up into me and strokes my g-spot I forget to breathe. I push back against him, his hand so warm, his finger hitting just the right spot…and then it’s gone.

I whimper.

Then he’s in front of me, and I can smell him, his familiar, intoxicating scent. He grabs a hand-full of my hair and guides my mouth down to his cock. I pull him into my mouth, hear him groan, and groan back, loving the feel of him in my mouth, the taste, feeling him fuck me deep, into my throat.

“Do you want me to come in your mouth?”

“Mmph,” I say sadly. “What that a ‘no’?” he asks. I nod. “The correct response,” he says sternly, “is ‘if you wish.'”

“Mmph mmph mmph,” I say, which he correctly interprets as “If you wish.”

“Okay,” he says, and pulls away. I blink. Right, I don’t want him to come in my mouth, because I want him to fuck me—but that doesn’t mean I want him to stop now!

Then he’s behind me on the bed, his cock against me. He teases me for a moment, and then slams it home, to the hilt, smack against my cervix…And it is amazing. I’m surprised, every time, at how good it feels when he does this, but this is even better than usual, so good that I see fireworks behind my eyes.

I become aware that I’m making noises, that I’m saying…something…words! I’m saying words!

“God, Daddy, yes, please, so good…so good…Daddy, please, I love you, please!”

He fucks me until he comes, then collapses on my back. I snuffle…I haven’t come, and I really really want to.

“Don’t worry,” he says softly, “I’m not done with you yet.”

He releases my cuffs and pulls me to lay against him, spooning me, stroking my hair, murmuring to me. I shake in his arms, I always shake at some point during scenes, and he keeps talking to me, soothing me, making it okay.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks me quietly.

“You, Sir,” I answer.

“That’s right,” he affirms. “You are MINE. Do you know why you’re mine?”

“No, Sir.”

“You’re mine because I CHOSE you.”

Sometimes he says just exactly the right thing, and this is one of those times. I snuggle back against him, as close as I can get, and rub my face against the arm that’s cradling me.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

We talk for awhile, quietly, about the things that couples talk about in times like this, and after awhile, he says, “Now it’s your turn.”

He turns me onto my back, kisses me lightly, and starts stroking my breasts, rubbing and kneading them. As the good feelings start to spread from my nipples to my clit I spread my legs wide and reach down to touch myself. He keeps playing with me but he’s watching me, too. He likes watching me masturbate for him, and it excites me, and my arousal builds. I close my eyes, concentrating on the feelings we are wringing from my body, my left hand scrabbling at the blankets, needing something to hold onto…he puts it on his cock, which is hardening again. I open my eyes and see him watching me, and it’s so hot, watching him watch me as I play with myself—playing with His wench, His pussy, His cunt—and my arousal skyrockets.

I feel my orgasm building and he murmurs to me, words of encouragement, and then it’s there. Sensation pulses out from my clit to my entire body, my hips jerking in response, and I can feel it to my fingertips and my toes…he runs his fingers over my ribcage and I swear, it feels like I’m coming there too, my skin is so sensitized and responsive, and as it starts dying down I realize I don’t want to stop yet, so I don’t. I keep playing with myself, and he keeps murmuring to me, and the second one comes much quicker, it always does, not as strong but still good. And my body has a pattern—the first orgasm is strong, the second one weaker but still good, and the third one blows me away—longer, stronger, and better. So I go for number three, and he is tugging on my nipples, talking dirty to me, his little slut, his whore, am I going to come for him…I can feel it, it’s so close, I’m not quite there yet, and then he starts counting…


No no no, I shake my head, no, don’t put me on a time limit, it’s too much pressure, I can’t come that way!


No! I shake my head again, and manage to mumble, “No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Three.”

I feel it getting closer and I think I might actually get there in time….


“Oh god, oh god, yes, Daddy, yes…”


And I explode, I come apart, it feels like my clit is three times its normal size. I can feel it pulsing and I feel myself squirting while I come so hard, so so hard, and the fireworks again…

Eventually I remember where I am. I open my eyes and look at him, and I smile.

“Better?” he asks.

“Better,” I confirm, nodding happily.

He smiles. “Good,” he says. “Do you realize that you came on a countdown?”

I nod enthusiastically. “I’ve never been able to do that before!” I say.

“That’s right. But you did great tonight.”

I wiggle, happy that I pleased him.

“That was really hot,” I whisper shyly into his chest.

“Yeah, it was,” he says. He pulls me in against him, and I go to sleep in his arms—happy, exhausted, and satisfied.

His inner sadist can come out to play any time. Any time at all. 🙂

(I love you, Daddy)


Friday is Boob Day!


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I submitted this to Hy *WAY* late so it probably won’t be on her page this week…but I’m sharing it anyway. 🙂

Boob Day



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You are my Top, my Dom, my Sir, my Master, my Daddy.

Bend me to your will, even when I resist. ESPECIALLY when I resist. I crave it, I need it, above everything else. My soul sings when you flog me, spank me, beat me, but nothing compares to knowing that you own me, heart and soul, body and mind.

That tone in your voice, that look in your eye, that tell me “You are mine. You have given yourself to me, and I have accepted you, and you are mine. Mine to play with, mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to do with as I please.”

Even writing that, thinking that, makes me throb, makes me wet. Please, please, own me, rule me, dominate me, take me.

I offer you my submission, my adoration, my loyalty, my body, my heart, my soul, and my mind.

I will fight you sometimes, I will resist you, but never think that means that I don’t, in the end, want to submit. Sometimes, I need you to make me. Sometimes, I need you to remind me that you are the Master, and I am the wench.

I am drawn to the dark, the dangerous, the menacing. You cherish me and support me and protect me; and still you are my dangerous man, the one who dances on the edge, who binds me and in so doing, sets me free.

You show me my own darkness; I take joy in my deviance, in being your wench, your slut, your whore–only yours; always, only, yours.

For you, I take the cane, the lash, the blow. No, not just take; I crave them–the brief searing pain, and the euphoria that follows; my body will drip for you, as I beg for your cock.

Fuck my throat, Master, and my cunt will swell and flower for you. Fuck my cunt, deep and hard, and I will bow down and open to you. Put your cock to my ass and I will beg you: please, Master, Daddy, more, please, yes, fuck me there.

Lick me, bite me, suck me; use your cock like a sword, and sink your soul into me. Claim me, mark me, use me; I will take it all. I will obey your every command, because I am your toy, your woman, your wench, your slave. Let me serve you, please you, satisfy you.

And when I do, please, tell me again that I am yours, that I did well, that I am a good girl.

Take me.

Own me.

Master me.


While I Was Away


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Hello, my darling deviants!

It seems that all kinds of interesting things have been happening these last few weeks while I was away.

First, I am up to 115 followers! I’ve had a couple of spikes in the last couple weeks, which I think must be due to the awards I’ve gotten recently (more on that below). So: Welcome newbies! Glad to see you here. 🙂

Second, I’ve crossed the 10,000 views threshold. Well, actually, I blew right through 10,000 and today I’m at 11,972. In the last 3 weeks, I’ve had 5 days with views of 75+; 2 of those days were 100+ views. How does this happen when I haven’t even been writing? I gotta believe it’s those wonderful award links.

Considering what they’ve done for traffic on my blog, I think it’s time to recognize and appreciate my awards and the lovely ladies who gave them to me.

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Way, way back on May 21, Feve nominated me for the Sensual Blogging Award.


For any of my readers who don’t know Feve – Mrs. Fever, that is – you gotta go check her out. She’s awesome and funny and sexy-hawt and she posts steamy pictures on Wednesdays. 🙂

The award comes with rules, of course:

1. Thank the blogger who awarded you with a link back to their blog (Done! See above).

2. Copy and paste this fine award on your blog (Done!)

3. Answer 7 sensual questions posted by the blogger who awarded you.

Now, Feve being Feve, she pretty much refused to follow the rules (it’s one of her more endearing qualities), but she did ask ONE sensual question of me, which is, and I quote: “What is something (or several somethings) you like to do sensually (touch, taste, sight, sound, scent) with a lover, that is not about you…and not about them…but about sharing pleasure?”

Well, hell. This is a bit of a challenge for me, actually. Because, you know, pretty much everything that happens with us is about sharing pleasure, even if we’re sort of taking turns with it. Whether Himself is doing things TO me (flogging, for example, or the lovely karate-chop beating he gave my ass this weekend), or I am doing things FOR him (cock-worshipping, for instance), we both get a lot of pleasure from it.

But that answer didn’t seem to fit the spirit of the question.

So I thought, and I thought, and….I finally came up with two somethings:

  • The simple, unadulterated joy of kissing. It’s one of the few things that we do (other than actual intercourse, which I decided was just too, too obvious 🙂 ) where we’re both participating pretty much equally and at the same time. He is a voracious, passionate kisser, and he tastes so good. I never really realized, before Himself, that someone’s mouth has a flavor. But his does, and it’s yummy. 🙂
  • Our bedtime ritual. He’s usually in bed first, so he’ll be toasty warm and snuggly. When I get into bed he pulls me against him, so we’re spooning, and wraps his arm around me and holds me tight. We fit together so perfectly; in fact, he said a couple weeks ago that it’s proof that we belong together, because no other woman would fit like I do. ::preen:: It makes me feel peaceful, content, protected, and loved; he says that he just can’t sleep if I’m not there curled up against him, because that’s where I belong. Another thing to love about it, is that it fre lead to….other activities….late at night or early in the morning, after he’s had his cock nestled between my ass cheeks for a few hours. Rubbing up against each other that way is one of the best feelings in the world. ::sigh:: Now I want my man to hurry up and get home so we can fall into bed together. 🙂

4. Select seven sensual bloggers to give this to.

OK, I can’t do seven, because I have to do some more for the next award, and I haven’t been online enough recently, and I’ll run out of nominees. So here are three that I particularly like.

  • Sir Q and me fiona has been one of my favorite bloggers for awhile now. Part of it is because so much of what she writes could easily be about Himself and I….and a lot more of what she writes is stuff I’d like to do or try. And she’s funny. Sensual and funny…hard to pull it off, but she manages. 🙂 From Belt To Better is my current favorite.
  • Dumb Domme has been one of my favorite bloggers since I first started up here at WordPress. Like most of my other favorites, she’s both hot and funny. While I was catching up on old posts this week, I found this blog, a letter from her boy J which, as she notes, is hot, and also a great treatise on why submissive ≠weak; and this blog, an email from her to J which is…oh….my. 🙂
  • MariMar is pretty consistently hot and sexy. Whether she’s posting pics or erotic fiction or scene reports, it’s always good. A recent post about a take-down by her Dom tripped my trigger but good. This line especially: “Did you really think you could get away from me, little girl”… Oh, my. ::fan fan fan::

5. Create or borrow seven sensual questions for those seven sensual bloggers to answer.

Nah, I’m going with the “state seven things about yourself” thing from the next award instead. 🙂

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On June 4, Life Of A Lover Girl nominated me for the Inspiring Blogger Award.


I can only imagine what I’m inspiring people to do…. <big evil grin>

ANYWAY. LOALG (can I call you that?) was a new blogger to me. If she’s new to you too, you should go check her out. I haven’t read a lot yet, but enough to know that she’s pretty brutally honest about her adventures (and mis-adventures) in the world of open relationships.

The rules for this award are:

1. Thank the blogger who awarded you with a link back to their blog (Done! See above).

2. Copy and paste this award on your blog (Done!)

3. State 7 things about yourself.

1. I recently found out that I am 1” taller than I have thought I was for the last 32 years. This came as somewhat of a shock. When did I grow? Sometime after I became an adult, clearly. I did not even know this was possible!

2. On the opposite end of the spectrum, my feet are shrinking. Shoes that used to fit me, no longer do. I have heard people say their feet get bigger as they get older; I’ve never heard anyone say theirs got smaller. So I googled it recently and, of course, there are other people who’ve experienced this. And all of them had the same reaction: “WTF? Has anybody else ever heard of this?” So clearly I’m not alone.

3. I am in my last year of pre-crone-ness. I think I’m rocking it pretty good though.

4. I adore Himself. (No, this is not new information. But it is definitely something true about me. 🙂 )

5. I have dogs and cats and a big flower garden and an even bigger kitchen garden, plus an orchard, and we’re growing a forest on the back of our property. It’s very cool.

6. I’m a big ol’ mushball. Sad songs, happy movies, doesn’t matter much, if it’s good I’ll probably cry. Himself does not understand the (apparently female) need for “a good cry.” He laughs that I measure the “goodness” of a movie by how hard I was sobbing. Well, actually, he’s kind of right about that. LOL

7. I have tan lines! No, see, if you knew personally, IRL, you’d know what a rare occurrence that is. And it’s despite using 100 SPF sunscreen. Which I guess tells you how much time I’ve been spending in the sun lately.

4. Nominate 15 other bloggers for the award.


Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. So, again, I’ll just pick some individual bloggers/posts that I found inspiring.

  • Kinky Good Girl is a poly, kinky, joyously slutty good girl. Her explorations of various relationships, especially with DomDoc, are frequently hot, occasionally yucky (by her own description), and always honest. I particularly enjoyed It Happened, a post about settling into a relationship, and the same-but-different kinds of joy that come with that.
  • Love Sex & Marriage is another long-time favorite blog. LSAM has a DD marriage and is one of the folks who got me interested in the concept. A blog she posted last month, The Purpose of Punishment, falls into the “inspiring” category for me in the sense that it makes me want to do (or feel) something. We (Himself and I) have toyed with DD, but have never crossed into that formal arrangement, and probably never will…but posts like this remind me of why, in certain situations, punishment works for me–and is almost a necessity to let me move on.

So, that’s it! Thank you again, deviants, for sticking with me during my long absences, and to Feve and LOALG for the awards. Smooches!



The Care and Feeding of the Domesticated wench


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Or, how to keep your wench happy, healthy, and satisfied.

(A story told in vignettes)

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Compliment Her

“Have I told you that I love your tits?”

“No, Sir, not recently.”

“Well, I do. They’re amazing,” he tells her, burying his face between them.


He is lying on his back, his cock balls-deep in her mouth. As she licks and sucks and licks some more, he groans, “God, that’s so hot.”

Later, after he comes, he tells her, “I love your sweet mouth.”

“Mmph mmph?” she asks, her mouth still full of his cock

“Yes, I do.”

“That’s just because your dick likes warm, wet places.”

“No, it likes your warm, wet places.”

“It does?”

“Yes, it does.”

She squeals and launches herself into his arms.

“Sometimes you say just exactly the right thing, Sir.”

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Use Her

She wakes with a surge of lust, panting and bucking her hips, his fingers on her nipples. He puts her hand on him, and she gasps as warmth floods her pussy. Not just wetness; no, she actually feels the blood rushing into her cunt, heating it. He rubs her mound, groans appreciatively, then slides his thumb into her mouth, pumping it, fucking her with it. She moans, low and desperate.

“Good girl. Such a good slut.”

She moans again, and bucks her hips against him.

“I think you need something else in your mouth. Something bigger. I think you need to suck my cock.”

“Mmph!” she agrees enthusiastically. He chuckles, that dark, dirty laugh that makes her clit throb, and she grinds her aching pussy against his leg. Then he’s on his knees, his cock bobbing in front of her face. She grasps the base and wraps her mouth around the head, swirling her tongue around him, tasting him. He tastes…right. Her man. Her Dom. All she wants in that moment is to please him, to pleasure him, to be used by him.

“I’m going to come down your throat tonight. I’m going to do it because I like it, and because I can do whatever I want to you. You’re going to suck every drop of cum out of my cock, and you’re going to love it.” She nods enthusiastically and mmphs at him again. She’s pumping him faster now, and salty pre-cum spurts gently into her mouth. She takes him deeper, deeper, almost deep enough to swallow around him, and then she feels his cock get thicker, and she knows he’s close…He grabs her head and fucks her mouth, hard, so far down her throat that she can hardly even taste him when he comes. She swallows around him and he groans and pumps harder, twice, three times, until he collapses across her.

She keeps sucking and licking until every drop of cum is cleaned off of his beautiful cock, and then licks him some more, just because she loves it, swirling his head with her tongue, until he laughs and tells her to stop. She gives him one last swirl, then pulls back, reluctantly.

As he lies down next to her, she stretches luxuriously, and says “Good to the last drop.” He laughs again and says, emphatically, “Yes, you are,” which makes her laugh too. He pulls her tight against him. She is so proud of herself, for making him feel good, for servicing him, and as she drifts back into sleep, she hears him whisper, “good girl,” and her soul sings.

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Cherish Her

He pulls her back against him, spooning her tightly, and rumbles happily. She holds his hand in hers.

“This is the best part of my day.”

He rumbles again.

“Do you ever feel like we were made for each other?”

“Yes…but what brought that up?”

“When I’m wrapped around you like this, it just feels so good. You fit just right.”

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Dominate Her

The spanking is wonderful. She can feel her ass pinking up, and warmth spreads through her pelvis. She wants more–more contact, more sensation, more ownership, more submission. He swats her again in the sweet spot and she groans and pushes back into his hand.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you,” he laughs. She nods enthusiastically, too happy, too subby, to speak coherently.

She can feel his cock under her, hard and ready, throbbing. She wants it, wants him, and so she flexes her hips down to rub her mound across his lap. He groans, and nudges her up on her knees.

“Lie down under me,” he commands. “I want my cock between your tits.”

She scrambles to get into position and squeezes her tits together, making a perfect valley for his cock. He starts to stroke between them and her pussy throbs.

He is facing her toes, his balls dangling enticingly in her face. She can’t resist the temptation, and reaches up to nuzzle them gently. She’s gratified to hear him groan.

“Lick my balls,” he says. She licks them delicately, teasing him, and giggles.


“…yes, Sir?”

“Lick. My. Balls. Don’t make me tell you again.”

The menace in his voice goes straight to her cunt and she groans, spreading her legs wide and raising her pussy toward him. He laughs–he knows the effect he has on her, the sadistic bastard. Thank god.

She sticks her tongue all the way out and gives him a thorough licking. God, she loves his balls–the weight of them against her mouth, the velvety skin, the musky scent…her enthusiasm is obvious and he groans in appreciation.

“Good girl. Such a good slut. Who’s your Daddy?”

“You are, Sir.”

“And who owns you?”

“You do, Daddy.”

“That’s right. And what can I do to you?

“Oh, god! Anything you want to, Daddy!” she gasps, overpowered by the lust she feels every time he reminds her of her place.

“Do you know what I’m going to do now?”

“No, Sir.” 

“I’m going to play with my slut.”

“Oh, god! Yes, please, Daddy!”

He slides his finger up her dripping slit.

“Hmm. Somebody’s awfully wet.”

“Mmph,” she agrees, her tongue working his balls again.

“Such a good little slut, getting so wet for me.” She groans as he slides his finger into her cunt, just to his knuckle, and stops.

“Mmph!!” she protests, thrusting her pussy up to his hand.

“Do you want more?”


“Lick my ass, and you’ll get more.”

She groans as she licks a trail from his balls and wiggles her tongue inside him. He groans and she feels her cunt gush.

“Yeah, good girl. You love that, don’t you, my little whore.”

She doesn’t even bother to answer, she just keeps tonguing him. He flexes his ass and she wiggles her tongue deeper and she’s getting desperate, begging without words…and then he’s there, pushing his finger in all the way, pumping hard, hitting her G-spot with each pass, and god it feels good. He pushes another finger into her and he’s pounding her, slamming his fingers in and out, cupping her mound with every down stroke, and she feels the pressure building, getting close…

…and he stops. She howls in protest, which just makes him laugh. Then  he pulls away from her. Dammit!

His voice drops, going all domly and growly and melting her bones.

“I’m going to fuck your throat now. Open for me.”

She opens her jaw, tilts her chin, and relaxes her throat. She loves this–his balls slapping her face, his cock down her throat, deeper than she ever thought she’d be able to take him, and it makes her feel so owned, so submissive, to take him this way. Her cunt gushes again, and again, a little more with each thrust of his cock, and then he goes rigid. He pumps slow and hard, his cock thick in her mouth, and then he slams it home, as deep as he can go. She swallows around him again and again, milking him, sucking him dry–and as he groans and shudders above her she knows her own power, the power to give him this, to give him herself, and she feels a fierce pride.

He shudders one last time and collapses on his elbows, pulling his cock out of her mouth. She pouts, but then realizes that his balls are dangling in front of her most enticingly again, so she flicks her tongue on the seam and he jumps and yelps, then laughs. She giggles too, high on the rush that submitting to him gives her.

He rolls to the side and starts fingering her pussy again, running his finger up to her swollen clit and back down to her cunt, until she’s panting and moaning in desperation.

“Touch yourself. I want you to come for me.”

She strokes her clit, slowly and gently at first, but she’s so far gone already that she wants more, more more more, and she reaches for the vibrator in the nightstand.

“Fuck yourself with it.”

She makes a pouting noise–she wants his fingers in her, not the cold hard toy–but he flicks her nipple and says “Now!” in that don’t-fuck-with-me voice and suddenly she wants nothing more than to fuck herself with the toy, to please him. She sets it to a low, deep, slow pulse and slides it into her sopping wet cunt–oh, god! The vibrations stimulate her clit from inside her cunt, while her finger does to work on the outside. It feels so good, and she knows he’s watching, she wants to please him, wants to come for him, but she’s not quite there yet…

Her cunt is so wet she can feel it dripping down her ass, the vibrator is throbbing away inside her and she’s close, so close, and then his eyes flash and he says “Come.”

And she flies apart in his hands, gasping and shaking and screaming.

For him.

Always, only, for him.

Rest in Peace, my friend


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In honor of my friend, Philip the Foole, who died suddenly this past weekend.

For those (probably most) of you who didn’t know him, PtF was one of the grand old men of the BDSM scene. He was an internet perv before most people knew there was any such thing as an internet. He was witty, funny, fierce, amazing, supportive, affectionate, and would never hesitate to laugh at your ass, or give you a swift kick in it if you needed one.

He leaves behind his beloved wife, Lady Foole; his son, the Mini-Fruitbat; and many adoring fans and play-pals.

I first “met” PtF when I joined SSBB (sadly, not at all what it was back in the day) in the summer of 2001. I had found SSBB through John Warren (author of The Loving Dominant). I lurked for awhile, and when I finally de-lurked, two of the first people who welcomed me were John Warren, and the then-unknown (to me, anyway) absurdist known as Philip the Foole.

Phil was SSBB’s resident jester. He always led the welcoming committee, and had a way of making everyone feel that they belonged, even if they were stupid newbies (at least, as long as they were trying to stop being stupid 🙂 ).

Many of SSBB’s most well-known memes originated with or centered around Phil, including FooleCo’s Black Labs, the secret headquarters in Monserrat, and the Two Big Mean Leatherdykes Named Vito.

His sig lines, known collectively as the Ancient Kung Foole Proverbs, were gems of philosophy, wit, and wisdom. I remember the sheer thrill when he picked one of my sig lines to add to his Proverbs. There is nothing like acceptance from one of the inner circle of the BDSM world to make you feel like you have ARRIVED, baby!

The Proverbs were collected by Spectrum and archived at for many years; now they’ve been moved to Spectrum’s FetLife wall, and they are worth checking out, all of them. Really. Trust me on this. (Folks who are not on FetLife can see them here).  My own contribution is there, attributed to my prior incarnation as merwench.

The Inner Circle of BDSM was originally defined as “people who know people who know Davo.” If you had met Davo personally, you had a Davo Number of 1. If you knew someone who had met Davo, you had a Davo Number of 2. Likewise, if you had met PtF in meatlife, you had a PtF Number of 1. I had a PtF Number of 1, which automatically gave me a Davo Number of 2. Sweet!

I earned both those numbers when I met Phil IRL at a Halloween munch and play party in Houston. He had come down to do a demonstration, and I got to be his crash test dummy for a part of the demonstration on take downs and spanking positions. As far as I was concerned, that was the night that I became a real, official Kinkster.

It was also the night that I confirmed that Phil was, in fact, a great fucking guy. Down to earth, friendly, welcoming, happy to share the vast stores of BDSM knowledge he’d accumulated over the years, and a short, round bear of a guy with a great hug.

As the news of his passing spread today, and we faced our shock and sadness, many of his Followers shared one of his most poignant–and, today at least, most appropriate–Ancient Kung Foole Proverbs. And because it is so very, very Phil, I’m going to share it too.

Goodbye, Phil. I will miss knowing that you are in the world.

For the samurai to learn,
There’s one thing only.
One last thing.
To face death unflinching.
He did that.
– Ancient Kung Foole Saying

This is what happens when I’m bored at work…


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…and find my way to a “Keep Calm” generator. LOL


Bottom Crop Fuck Spank

MasterSub Top

And my two favorites:


Screen Shot 2013-04-17 at 1.35.58 PM



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Well, there really wasn’t supposed to BE a part II….but when I went to answer comments on Part I today, I realized that half the pictures weren’t showing. And that just is not allowed! So, forthwith, the four missing big, hard, pierced nipples that I want to play with them, roll in my mouth, and squeeze between my fingers. 😉

<ins datetime=”2013-04-09T01:29:49+00:00″



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I have an obsession with big, hard, pierced nipples. I want to play with them, roll them in my mouth, and squeeze them between my fingers… then I want to get mine done, so Himself can do all that to me, but alas, he has forbidden it. So I will entertain myself (and you!) with Tumblr instead. 🙂
(See more at WANT Part II)

You just might be a Dom if…


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….you tell your beloved,

“I will have my way with you, and you are going to like it.”

AND you keep your promise.

AND you play with your sub’s nipples so long and so hard–no clamps, no floggers, no crops, just fingers–that they’re sore to the touch the next day.

AND you give her several mind-blowing orgasms.

AND you come down her throat and growl a domly growl when she swallows around your cock, which makes her very, very happy.

AND you wrap her up in your arms afterward and ask if she feels better now.

And she does, and you hold her all night long, safe and sound, while she sleeps.

(I love you, Sir.)

Sweet dreams, Sir. :)


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For Himself, who is out of town again, something to hasten him home. 🙂

The Man Has A Talent


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“Goodnight, baby,” he says softly.

“Goodnight,” I respond.

“Goodnight, what?” he prompts.

“Goodnight, Sir,” I reply.

“Good girl,” he says, squeezing me close.

Shivers, happiness, pride, arousal, a yearning to please him, and a serious case of the cuddles.

All from six little words.

How does he DO that??!?!

Song for my Sir


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Because I am stupid in love with Himself, and this is how he makes me feel. Happy Thursday, Sir!