Penis, Level 10

01:53 in early August. Someone else's bed. I am exhausted and lying on my back. Sweat is dripping from my forehead to the back of my neck. I am utterly exhausted. The girl purring in my side is running her fingers over my chest, pulling slightly at my man-fur.

"You have a lovely cock..." she breathes, contentedly.

My eyes widen.

"Uh...errr...uhhh"

It is 21:13 on a blustery wednesday night in the final weeks of August. I am standing in front of a group of my friends in the pub. Suddenly the conversation shifts to a former encounter between me and a girl who is in the group.

"He has a lovely cock..!". She laughs. The group laughs. I try to laugh, but no sound comes out. I look at my group of friends and realize they're congratulating me. I try to speak but no words come out.

"Uhh.... well... heh... errr..."

It is 03:12 in the final week of August, I am being woken up from my slumber on a couch. I am drunk and sober at the same time. The extremely nilla girl who woke me up is looking at me intently, smiling, and I can tell exactly what's on her mind. I hear a slightly deeper and suprisingly commanding version of my voice tell her to draw the curtains as I unzip my jeans. With an exaggerated politeness I request her to, if she didn't mind, could possibly be so kind as, if it pleases her, to suck my cock. I quietly sip the glass of wine I see next to me and flip the channels on TV as her head bobs up and down in my lap, pretending disinterest. I feel utterly enthralled by her submission, and, come to think of it, sheer enthusiasm. She moans slightly. I push the ecstasy to the back of my mind for long enough to explain without falter in my voice that I am going to come, and that she is going to swallow it for me, and is that quite clear. She moans; "mm-hmm.." while her mouth is over the head of my cock. I utterly fucking love it.

I come inside her mouth and hold her chin up to face me, eyes dead straight.

"Swallow." I order her. She obliges me. "Good Girl". I kiss her lips. Post-coital clarity sets in. I begin to wonder what on Earth I was thinking. Then I wonder what on Earth she was thinking. Then I wonder how I got to the couch in the first place, what day it is, and what my name is. In that order. My alarm matches my surprise when I realize who it was that just went down on me.

The thinking proves to be too much. I wince. I get up from the sofa and make my excuses.

"Vice," she says, slowly. I pause, turning to face the formerly extremely nilla girl. She smiles to herself, wiping the side of her mouth and sipping from a glass of wine.

"You have a lovely cock".

".........."

It is 12.32 on a quiet and entirely dull sunday afternoon a month prior. My 16GB iPhone 3G vibrates in my pocket. It's my brother on the line.

"Dude, I don't know what you did to that poor girl, but she has been grinning from ear to ear the whole morning. Hahahaha. Did you have fun?"

I blush and grin sheepishly. "Heh, of course I did. Frankly I'm surprised she didn't wake you up. Did I mention she was calling me Sir in bed? How the hell do they know?!"

"I don't know, but apparently she said something about you having a great cock."

"err....guess it runs in the family?"

"Hahaha you bet it does. See you soon Bro"

"uh... heh... uh..."

It is 22.46 in the early days of October. I sit in my bed typing and look down at my penis. It looks back at me, expectantly. I hesitate and push it back into my boxers. I pause and stare at the computer screen, reading over my previous exploits.

The space at the back of my neck feels cold. I rub it, and look anxiously out of the window to rid myself of the feeling I'm being watched.

A simple gesture of Femininity

Going to a good friend's party, I had, as usual, I mistimed my departure and arrived unfashionably early to my hostess, who, delighted, greeted me, kissed me on either cheek and ran off again to get ready.

Having come straight from a day of rowing, sun, dehydration and post-award ceremony drinking, I was in my dirty training gear, and had only managed to purchase a six-pack of stella from the off-license down the road before arriving at her house. I probably smelled like the Thames, though thankfully my memory fails me. Knowing that the attendants were mostly students, I assumed that I wouldn't be too out of place and that excuses would easily be made, none would care.

I was wrong.

Not long after arriving, I was immediately contrasted against a couple. a boy and girl in their late twenties, who were dressed as though for a dinner party, brought with them a bottle of wine and even a bouquet of flowers. My feeling of awkwardness grew as they settled at the table with a bottle of red wine and I stood by the counter in my hoody, a lukewarm stella in one hand.

I began to make hasty excuses about coming straight from rowing, and my completely unplanned state of drunkenness, and my general lack of anything resembling class and sophistication, but I was distracted and noticed out of the corner of my eye my friend, the hostess, rummaging for a vase and clucking away with the female of the pair.

Deftly, she moved (no, perhaps hovered, or floated?) around the kitchen and placed a small glass vase next to the sink.

Next, she unfurled the bouquet and started picking up each flower in turn, holding it upside down against the vase and cutting each stem to suit; with movements as fluid and natural as an old tailor. Each flower was planted in the vase, arranged by colour and height, and then given a brisk tussle to bring out the petals before her hands deftly moved to the next. Purple flowers which had looked cheap and tacky in their cellophane wrapping suddenly looked exotic and regal; as the entire foliage finished and presented itself.

I grew quiet then, this simple gesture betraying a simple elegance and beauty I never knew her to possess. Standing there, arranging the flowers, an aura of femininity grew around her; something which I rarely see in women and behold in quiet awe when I do. Though she is not someone I'm attracted to per say, she looked positively beautiful at that moment, with the purple flowers contrasting with her freshly dyed crimson hair.

She was completely oblivious, and if anyone else noticed what I had just seen they didn't show it. I would have loved to tell her so, but I kept quiet and sipped my tin of stella, as a ragg'd and miserable pauper, in my ditch of classlessness and putrid social ineptitude.

Finally

Christ on toast. At long last.

After three or four months of not having either a laptop or internet with which to indulge it, I am finally availed with both, and as such there shall be updates, changes and possibly even movement to a new blog on wordpress should I ever get a spare moment.

[one minute silence for all the posts, thoughts, ideas and notes stored in the folder marked 'Vice' that have been lost forever due to a hard drive failure. You may laugh but I'm still quite devastated about it.]

If I may make a small nod here to Keiron & Anj (who know who they are) for presenting themselves as a most unexpected audience; and burning my cheeks crimson with their compliments.

[Insert one-word post title here}

[this is where the small italicized witty and self-parodying remark would go]

[this is where I would have written about all the clever ideas I have in store for her on the school night, and I explain the forethought that preceded them]

[this is the short joke I insert to break up the structure a bit and cleanse the literary palette for the further explainer]

[this is where I would reveal that every now and again at work I giggle to myself and laugh at what I'm getting up to these days, and reflect on how unbelievably fast it's all happening and coming together, wondering in a small moment of introspection at what strange desires my mind conjures up, what feats of ingenuity I devise in order to satisfy my inner muse]

[another small but witty joke to break from the seriousness of the last paragraph, and remind the reader that I don't take myself seriously, that I think I'd kick my own ass and steal my lunch money before anything that terrible ever occurred]

[this is where I tell the reader that there'll be more to read after Friday and possible Saturday if I stay for that long, that they definitely don't want to miss out on that story, whether it turns out as I have planned or whether it goes altogether horribly wrong]

[wherein I reaffirm my hopes for the night, namely that all concerned have a great deal of deliciously safe and kinky fun, that she can see how what I have planned was planned specifically with her in mind, should she choose in the end to accept the invitation]

[and finally small morsel of wit to end]

Thoughts before my first munch

you can smell the nerves

I wrote this in the afternoon preceeding my first munch; whereby I arranged to meet up with a certain Viskan at the London fetish meeting, also known as a 'munch'. I think that my overcoming these initial fears proves to me my seriousness to explore this facet of myself.



When I think about it, it's actually taken me quite a very long time to get to this point, whereby I am setting off to develop this aspect of myself in the real world, rather than assume a digital daydream. It's been nothing if not difficult, and as I look back I can see that I had been fighting myself the whole way, and reluctantly, petulantly, dragged kicking and screaming towards investigating my... I still don't even really know what to call or refer to it as, my... Dominant side?

Most people like me, I imagine, start noticing these longings and desires when they're young; though they find that they do not know how to express it. Thus, their early dating attempts are filled with confusion, trying to understand how to actually have a relationship with someone and then understand where exactly these persuasions fall. Many of my early sexual experiences, my early attempts at expressing my Love for another in the form of D/s, are fraught with attempted power games and the resulting negative feedback from the second party's not understanding this language, followed by second attempts and more confusion, frustration and unconsummated desires with vanilla partners.

...though looking back I suppose it wasn't always entirely unconsummated. There have been occasions where I would get drunk enough that I could no longer hold myself back and transformed into some kind of sex-starved werewolf, waking up the following morning confused and disoriented to torn bedsheets and extremely happy-looking women...

The (mostly...) unconsummated desires accumulate over time into something far more powerful, and, like a rolling wave, guided my course without my fully realising it, from a private inner thought to the physical, or at least digital. I watched in silent terror as I began to seek out an outlet for the restlessness within me. I joined certain websites, watched certain movies, read about the experiences of others, exploring the surface of the culture, entering as I did into a world I had never expected to go, a world that both utterly terrified me and drew me in ever deeper.

For me, this was a slow and painful prospect, as with every step I took I stopped and tried to reason myself out of moving forwards in that direction, convincing myself as I tried to that this was not me, that I was acting out of character, that I was in error, and in spite of all my inner pleading it was all I could do to keep from moving towards D/s, longing for it, falling back in fits of conscience, questioning myself and my ethics, and yet still moving forward in spite of it all. Frankly, it seems, I had little choice in the matter, divided as I was by both wanting to venture outwards and desperately wanting to be 'normal'.*

But, one day you wake up, look in your wardrobe, and notice that 3/4 of your attire are the colour Black, and you finally realise that there is quite simply nowhere to run anymore.

Tonight I stand at the door at the end of this long path, and behind this door, beyond anything else, at least lie answers. Answers that pertain to some of the deepest parts of my inner self, and in light of this fact there is little I can reasonably do except open it and walk through...

needless to say, and even as I wrote this post I knew this would be the case; the evening was totally fine. Once I walked down the stairs I knew I was at home, and was instantly at ease, if not a little high on adrenaline.

...actually, I take that back. The point at which I felt I was truly at home was when a certain rather delicious miscreant ran one talon'd hand up my chest and pinched my nipple.

Finally, a place where one can pinch another's nipples without shame.

*I don't think I need to go into the details of what would happen should I be found out by my vanilla friends; indeed only now with my levels of adult privacy, my own room, living on my own, is anything like this even possible.

Wherein I play the waiting game...

We laid on the couch pretending to watch the movie, trying to ignore the fact that the other was desperately trying to think of a way to fall into the other's arms.

Patience, patience.

I am in a strange situation. In one hand, I know you want to come over to me, but I also know that you would have a fit of conscience if you did. If I make a move it will be for nought, but on the other how can I possibly not? How do I simply sit here and swallow everything that's in my mind?

Silence? No, under the dull noise of the TV there is a flurry of conversation on every level. Every body movement is analyzed by both of us, an invitation? Like two gamblers we're both weighing up the odds of risk and winnings trying to find the moment when we can be sure no face will be lost, if one of us makes a move and the other declines all will be done for.

I remember when you told me that you were the kind of girl that goes after the man, not the other way round. You probably only mentioned it in passing, but I noted it word for word. I've played this game before.

Patience!

Finally, an answer comes to me, and with a sudden knowing smirk on my face:

"Well, time for bed, see you in the morning"

I listen intently for your reply.

"Oh.."

Ah-ha! There it is, before you can catch it the clear disappointment falls out of your open mouth, though you try to recover quickly I don't hear what you say, I have learned all I needed to know.

"Guess I'll see you tommorow" I depart.

Perhaps next time you won't let me go so easily.

Back in hiding

*sigh*....

Alas, for the lack of muse, and the start of a new job that lends precious little free energy in which I can indulge myself searching for a new one. I find spare contentment in memories, and in planning; though I find I am still recovering to some degree from the last encounter. Apparently, I've scared off one would be candidate, just as it was getting interesting.

Alas.

Fanning the Flames

my first proper exploration of my Dom side.

Friday went well, I picked her up at the station wearing a suit jacket with a black t-shirt, black jeans and smart shoes, in the hopes that it would be emphasizing the power assertion between us. She commented on it but only lightly, and we walked back to my house. She had frizzed out her hair, which I approved of. Because of her dark complexion, she looked like a black girl with her hair in that way, and with it straight she looked italian, either of which suited me, and I liked having the option.

When we got home we wasted almost no time in getting upstairs. I sat her down on my bed and prepared her to give my gifts. As I said, the previous day I had gone into my local sex shop and made some purchases, namely a thick leather collar with o-rings on the sides, and a small bullet-shaped remote controlled vibrator. I presented these to her great suprise and delight, and instructed her to put it on immediately. And What had she gotten me for christmas?

A small silver keyring with my name engraved on it... which I proceeded to thread onto the front o-ring of her collar that she was now wearing. *very very wicked grin*

By this time, I was as hard as rock, so we fell into each other for a very hasty, frantic first round. I had enough time to put the collar on her before she was putting the condom on and thrusting her hips into me. I can attest that the collar is indeed very strong and holds very well, after I guided her head to various places using the o-rings. It's leopard print looked tacky in the store, but now, contrasted against her beautiful dark olive skin, it looked perfect, gracing her every attribute with a feline presence. She looked, in a word, beautiful. I told her so as I, thrusting hard, came inside her. Round one.

We lie still for a while, and cuddled, with me kissing her and telling her what a good girl she was, glowing in the warmth of the shared bed. After half an hour or so I was ready again, and instructed her to put the collar back on, as well as the wrist and ankle hogties that I had. As I stood up and prepared the room for her, I turned and instructed her to touch herself until I was ready, and as I set up my laptop* to the other side of the room I could see she was very wet and receptive to me. I tested the air and decided the room was warm enough for her, placed a pillow on the floor at the foot of my bunk-bed's vertical ladder. Truly, I thought to myself, the practicing Dom is the most creative person alive to see a ladder and realize it's bondage potential.

I instructed her to get up and bend over on the bed, ass towards the camera, which she obeyed. I spanked her a few times and rubbed her rather wonderful little ass, and displayed it for later viewing pleasure, asking her the while whether she was going to do as I said. I asked her to get the vibrator and hand it to me, and I rubbed it over her before pushing it deep inside in full view of the camera. She shivered, and I spanked her again as I turned it up to the full setting for a few seconds. She uttered a moan and I spanked her again, relishing her ecstasy and her wetness.

I told her to get down on the floor, and she did so, getting on her knees and looking up at me, her eyes blurry. I allowed her to take me in her mouth for a while, which she confessed that she loved, all the while watching the screen and seeing us at work. It was quite the sight, and I had to hold myself back in anticipation of further action.

I took her hands and led her, standing up towards the ladder. Putting her torso through the third rung and placing the pillow under her as I did so, I bound her hands using the small clips beneath her to a lower rung. I spread her legs and spanked her a few times, relishing the sight and teasing her with my dick, which she was begging for by this point. Her wetness proved her sincerity, as the vibrator came out at one point and I stuck it back in, turning it up to full for a few minutes inside her and teasing her clit with my mouth. Finally both of us could take no more, and I fucked her from behind with my now almost painfully-hard dick, making small motions over her clit with my right hand and pinching her nipples at points (she liked that). She was so wet it was running down her legs and into mine, and her orgasm was extraordinarily intense, as was mine. It lasted for a fair few minutes, with her loud primal moans as I continued to thrust deep inside her, causing wave after wave of intensity, visible in her legs shaking. I only stopped when she begged me to, not because of pain but rather of that curious and deliciously-unbearable post-coital electricity that now wracked her body every time I touched her. I undid her restraints and allowed her to rest in bed, the previous orgasm being so intense as to allow us to do nothing else. After a while I let her take the condom off and clean me with her mouth, which her hot, wet little mouth did very well, before falling into a deep sleep next to her.

As you can imagine, for the rest of her time here that was quite hard to top, so I only had her go down on me a few times, using her collar to do so, and having her use the vibrator on herself for my viewing pleasure. There is something extremely satisfying about telling a woman forcefully to 'put this inside yourself' and have her do it, especially when she's fully clothed, one hand in her jeans and the other touching her breasts through her clothes.

This will likely prompt further thought in the following weeks. Stay tuned.

*She had consented freely at an earlier date to be recorded, as she knows the video will never leave my laptop, in it's hidden and encrypted folder. I had told her previously that it belonged to her and if she asked me to delete it I would immediately, and she trusts me (quite correctly) in this aspect.

Stoke the fire

My recent vanilla convert is due to spend this weekend (4th Jan) at my house. Fertile is the imagination with which I anticipate her further submission.

The first scenario I have in mind is to strip her bare, collar her and have her lean through a ladder in my room, bending over through a rung. There, I will bind her hands to a lower rung, and spread her feet apart facing away from me, leaving her behind fully in my possession to do with as I will. We shall see whether this plays out to my expectations.

This friday will be her collaring, though I doubt she understands what that means. She either has a submissive nature or a perverse one, either of which suits my palette for now. I will be visiting certain stores and purchasing her collar and a vibrator, both of which will be given to her to keep, and to use in my presence.

The wait while I had been away on a trip has made me eager, and it will be difficult to hold myself back long enough to take her where I want to take her.

We shall see.