via TORONTO POWER EXCHANGE BDSM ARTICLE.

Toronto Power Exchange – The Astrological Dominatrix is a post from: Divorce Darling

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This would take a very long time to get out of.

Spider Rope Bondage is a post from: Divorce Darling

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Robot Lover Found on Tumblr is a post from: Divorce Darling

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I find this erotic on different levels. This is why I think there is such a thing as Dominant little girls, it’s the closest phrase I’ve seen to describe it. In reality, I don’t think any man or woman is all dominant all the time.  Especially when I know what a nice feeling it is to lean back and let him please me.

The image came from Tumblr, no credit to the original source. Too bad, I’d like to see more.

The Domme is Technosexual is a post from: Divorce Darling

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BDSM in Pixel Art is a post from: Divorce Darling

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The Perfect Guy… is a post from: Divorce Darling

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One Wet Afternoon – BDSM – Literotica.com.

One Wet Afternoon

by SpiritoftheNight©

18-year-old Chris was bored. Outside the rain beat down on the sloppy looking snow, melting it all away one flake at a time. The snowman he had made a few days ago looked like a forgotten science experiment. The head had fallen an hour ago, the body was listing to the left, only a shovel held it up. Of course, the whole thing was shrunken and pitted now. Chris thought of people who collected shrunken heads and wondered if anyone ever collected shrunken snowmen. Keeping them would require serious planning. Some sort of a freezer that wouldn’t dry them out, he decided. 

“Chris, did you get out there and shovel the path yet?” His Governess called from the den where she was working on his computer.

“It’s raining. I don’t want to go out.” He called back.

“Too bad. Get dressed and get started. You wouldn’t want anyone to slip on the path. I just heard it is going to get a lot colder this afternoon. All that rain will be ice by then. You need to clean it up now and put down some salt too.”

“OK. I’m going,” Chris called back and forced himself to stand. “Any chance you will come out there and help me?”

“You know I can’t play today. I have to write and email this article to Kelly before she takes her zine to the printers.” His Governess came out from the den and spoke to him in a softer voice. “We can do something together later. Besides, I don’t want my little Chris to be out there in the freezing rain. That’s why I’m tossing you out there now.” She laughed as she helped Chris get his coat on.

Chris playfully rolled his eyes and groaned, “Yes Lady, you are so good to me Lady.”

She laughed, smacking his bottom as he passed her on his way outdoors. “Make sure you don’t miss any spots and don’t forget the salt. Don’t make me have to discipline you little man.”

“Yes Governess,” Chris said in a mournful tone.

He made sure to close the door on her laughing face, winking just before he disappeared on the other side of it. She would probably make coffee now and enjoy it while he was out shivering in the cold. Chris’s self pity didn’t last long. Being out in the snow, shoveling the mountains of white stuff still felt like man’s work. Let the little woman stay warm and sheltered inside. He stole the shovel away from the snowman and watched it collapse. The whole snowman just flopped down like a sack of cooked noodles. After giving it a few good kicks, Chris was ready to shovel.

The wet snow was heavy. Yet, it scooped up easily, not leaving an icy clump behind to be chipped at. When the walk was clear Chris felt surprised to be reluctant to go back indoors. He decided to make snow angels for a little while. By the time his Governess poked her head out the door and called to him to come in there were four angels on the lawn.

“Come inside, Chris. You are too wet to play outside any more,” she said, calling to him from just inside the door, trying to keep the heat from leaking out.

“Yes Lady.” Chris promised, smiling.

Governess went back inside and Chris shook off some snow. He was beginning to feel pretty water logged now that he wasn’t busy. At the door he stomped snow off his boots and shook more from his hat and scarf. Inside, he left his wet boots on the mat and peeled off the rest of the wet things.

“Take off everything.” Governess called from the bathroom where Chris could hear her already starting the water.

Chris stripped down and carried all his wet clothes into the laundry. He hung the scarf and gloves up to dry and put the pants and other clothes into the machine. His coat he left hanging near the heater. After adding the soap, he joined his Governess in the bathroom. He almost turned around and ran when he saw her wearing the dreaded rubber dishwashing gloves.

“Not those! I really hate those!” Chris said, eyeing the gloves, cringing at just the thought of them.

“Shhh, little man. I want to make sure you don’t dawdle. I am very busy this afternoon.” Governess said.

“I promise not to dawdle, please don’t use those gloves. I hate the way the rubber feels on my skin.” Chris tried a winning smile on his Governess, anything that would spare him those horrible gloves!

“Hmmm, well I guess I could do without them. However, you will have to be a very good boy. No fussing and no grumbling while I work. Now get into the tub, step lively!” She gave his ear lobe a yank and led him into the tub. “Sit down and I will start lathering you.” Chris was very glad to see her pulling off the gloves. He made a note to himself to hide them away in a better spot this time.

Chris sat in the tub obediently, enjoying his Governess’ hands on his body. As she soaped him up she kneaded his muscles and teased him by scraping her fingernails lightly over his back and a few tender, sensitive areas. Soon Chris was feeling sensitive all over. Just as he began to squirm, she dumped a bucket of cool water over his head.

“Time for your shampoo!” she giggled.

Chris was still getting his breathing back to something approaching normal when she began shampooing. Her fingers stroked through his hair, caressing him. He tried not to slip back into the mood of relaxation, not sure what else she might do. However, her fingers soon had their way with him. The gentle stroking around his ear and the firmer strokes at the back of his neck made him putty in her hands. This time the bucket had warmer water and Chris almost didn’t notice it at all.

She moved down his body, washing his neck, shoulders, arms, chest, back and moving down to his belly, teasing his rising cock. There she stopped, leaving him aching for more while she washed his face. She washed every bit of his face like a mother checking over a dirty little boy.

“I don’t think you have been washing behind your ears little man.” She said, using the wash cloth to scrub behind his ears. “Wouldn’t surprise me to find some tinsel from the Christmas tree back here.” She laughed softly.

Chris said nothing. Sometimes he just liked to enjoy his Governess’ attentions. This was his time to let go, sit back and enjoy the ride. He didn’t have to make big decisions, he didn’t have to do things he really didn’t like and he didn’t have to pretend to feel things he wasn’t feeling. His Governess was in control. Whatever ride she decided to take him on he could depend on her to give him a few twists and sharp turns but at the end of the ride he would be well satisfied.

Chris leaned back, giving her better access, as she washed his lower belly. He could hear her breathing quicken, nearly in time with his own. Her fingers circled his cock, washing it. The cloth moving up and down his shaft, brushing his balls on each down ward stroke. With the other hand, she pushed him farther back, to rest his head on the back of the tub. She gently eased his legs apart, leaving his cock hard and aching while she washed his thighs. For a moment, Chris thought to tell her she was dawdling but he kept quiet.

Moving down his legs, she washed his knees, calves and feet. After washing his toes she took the big one into her mouth and softly bit it. Chris wriggled in the water at the feel of her lips and sharp teeth. Her mouth moved from his toe to his ankle. Kissing the inside and outside of his ankle while her other hand drifted along his leg. Dipping the bucket into the tub water this time she used it to rinse his legs. Another full bucket rinsed his chest, back and arms.

“Almost done now little boy.” she whispered. “Get on your hands and knees in the tub so I can finish you off.”

Chris was ready to be finished off. He positioned himself as told. His Governess twisted the wash cloth into a long thick string and held it at both ends. She then rubbed the middle between his bottom cheeks until it slid in. Chris was breathing a lot harder as she dragged the cloth back and forth between his bottom cheeks. Closing his eyes, Chris pressed against the cloth. It felt almost too good.

“Let’s just see how ready my little bull is now.” Governess said. Her fingers raked over his bottom, then down between his legs, to his cock and balls. “My what a good little boy you are. Do you like when I rub the head of your cock?”

“Yes,” moaned Chris.

“Kind of greedy aren’t you?”

“Very,” Chris managed to say as her fingers curled around his cock and pumped up and down his shaft.

“A greedy boy should be taught discipline.” said Governess.

The word discipline caught all Chris’s attention. “Maybe later, Governess?” He asked.

Stopping all her playing she swatted his wet bottom hard once. “No little Chris, never put off the important things. I need to get back to work. You can make me another of your excellent coffee’s and bring it in to me. Don’t dawdle in the water now, it’s starting to get cool.”

Without even looking, Chris knew she would have one of those tormenting smiles. “May I finish in the tub Governess?” he asked, already knowing her answer.

“I said no dawdling Chris, you are finished little man. Get dressed before you get cold.” She laughed all the way back to the den. In only a minute, he heard her back at work, typing away, as if she hadn’t just left a desperate man alone in the bathroom. Chris watched the bath water spiral down the drain. He stayed there awhile.

He dressed warmly, old jeans and the new sweater she had given him just a couple of weeks ago at Christmas. On the outside, he seemed calm, inside he was plotting Governess’ downfall. He made the coffee, thinking about having her in the bathtub at his mercy. Those thoughts only made him ache. While loading the coffee, some leftover Christmas cookies and other goodies onto a tray, he thought of a better idea. He was ready when he carried the tray into the den.

“Would you care for some coffee?” He asked, butler polite.

“Yes, thank you, please leave it on the side of the desk there.” Chris placed the cup as shown and stood waiting.

“Don’t you have something else you could be doing?” She asked.

“Not really,” replied Chris.

“Please go do something with yourself I don’t want you hovering over my shoulder while I work.”

“I would be glad to do just that if you allowed it, Governess.”

She grinned at him, “Very well, if you are determined to be a pest I think you should crawl under my desk and stay there in the dark like all the other little pests.” Governess pushed her chair back and waited.

“As you wish,” Chris said. He struggled to fit his 6’3″ body under the confines of the small space of the desk. He sat with his back pressed against the back of the desk. When she pushed her chair back, she was sitting between his bent knees, just where he wanted her. Completely blocking out the sound of her typing above his head, he tenderly licked her knee. If she noticed she chose to ignore him, this suited his plan exactly.

From her knee, he leaned forward just a bit to kiss the top of her knee and start along her inner thigh. When she shifted in her chair he smiled to himself and started the same game on the other leg. Her hips ground into the seat of the chair and he knew she was getting wet panties. Bringing his hands up he pushed her skirt up to her waist. Now he could see her panties and the tell tale wet spot. He could also smell it and he made sure she knew that was just what he was doing. His finger was reaching for the wet spot when she suddenly stood up and looked at him under the desk.

“You are being a very bad boy little Chris.”

“Yes Lady, I know.” stated Chris.

She grinned wickedly, “Well so long as you know I guess my job is done.” Turning away from him she said, “Let’s just see what kind of a job you can do. Hurry up, you know I don’t have all day!”

She left him still under the desk. However, Chris could see the bedroom door open as she went inside. She left it open tantalizing him as she stripped off the red sweater he had given her for her birthday, the week before Christmas. She dropped her skirt to the floor.

“Very messy,” Chris muttered, ” I think you need to be taught how to clean up.” He laughed quietly as he made his way to the bedroom. He was ready, willing and able to teach her everything he knew.

My Story: One Wet Afternoon is a post from: Divorce Darling

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What would you do to really surprise him and let him know what you want once you get him home tonight? (You don’t feel like just going to bed).

Write flash fiction, a micro story of 50 – 100 words, about being stopped at the red light and let the reader’s imagination work out how the night ends.

Tempting Tuesday – Red Light is a post from: Divorce Darling

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I was going to look for a new plain wooden backscratcher this week. That seems so bland now.

A Real Robot Massage is a post from: Divorce Darling

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There is so much talk about gay and straight. I never forget being asked “How do you know you’re straight?” many years ago when I was still going to BDSM munches. I still go to BDSM get togethers but now they are less traditional. No one calls them munches, just Wednesday Night Coffee in town.

When I think about a man’s hands I know that’s what I want. I don’t feel the same about a woman. I can have fantasies or become aroused just from thinking about being touched in ways, in places and in assorted scenarios. The hands (tools, machines, robots, aliens, tentacles, whatever) touching me don’t so much matter when the focus is on myself, my surroundings, the fetish or kinky bits. In fantasies we always focus on ourselves. That’s what makes them so good for us.

However, when I focus on the hands themselves, I want a man’s bigger hands touching me. I want some calluses from his work outdoors. I want clean fingernails cut bluntly square across, no nail polish. I want a light sprinkle of hairs on the back of his hand, over his wrist and leading up to his arm and all the rest of him. I don’t especially want a hairy man, too much hair is too much hair. But, I don’t want a smooth shaved body, like a woman.

I’ve never really wondered all that much about whether I’m gay or not. How do I know whether I like chocolate or vanilla? There’s a bigger question, I like both, especially all swirled together with ribbons of caramel. My favourite ice cream is the Gold Medal Ribbon which I first had at Baskin Robbins as a kid.

Some things are that simple.

Some are not simple at all.

My answer hasn’t changed to the gay or straight question. But, I’ve come to understand more about myself and what I feel. I do desire a man physically but not emotionally. Not that I want a woman either. Emotionally I’d like to be left alone.

A funny thing happened on the way to this point in my life…

I’d like Baskin Robbins to deliver. Can they just send me a crate of Gold Medal Ribbon so I can keep it in the freezer and scoop out a bowl full when I’m in the mood for ice cream?

I’m tired of trying to ‘find someone’. I’ve kissed the frogs. I’ve been married and divorced. My strings have all come undone or been pulled out. I don’t even want to find someone any more. Of course, hope is eternal and can never die. I have a spark which won’t go out and I do look up and think I might just see someone looking back.

But, how can you trust anyone not to be too cynical, too self-centred and actually be looking for me too?

Ice cream may not be doing my weight any favours but it tastes better and hasn’t let me down. Ice cream has never hurt my feelings or made me feel insignificant. Ice cream is there when I want something good in my life again. Ice cream is an emotional thing as well as it’s own food group.

Anyway, I’m not fooling myself. I know ice cream melts and is just cold comfort.

All these years later I am still physically attracted to men but I am not emotionally attracted to them. In the end, if I didn’t have emotions when it came to sex and being close to people, I could just be like the men I meet online and screw whatever looks good enough. No emotions involved. No regrets, no apologies, no sense of actually being with another human being at all.

That’s not me. Sex is all about intimacy, closeness and emotion for me. I’ve never picked up someone at a bar and taken them home to screw me. If I want an orgasm I can have one. I don’t even need modern tools or toys. Sometimes I imagine a man, sometimes it’s an alien… with tentacles or a really weird penis. Even my fantasies have emotion though. Who or whatever I’m with actually wants me. Me, not a blow up doll or the perfect model from some porn site.

I don’t know what sex is without an emotional attraction. People talk about vanilla versus BDSM. The real vanilla is not the people who aren’t kinky, it’s the people who leave the emotion out of it all.

Vanilla is just great with me – it’s a rich flavour which just happens to be light in colour. It’s very unfair to vanilla to have become the word used to describe a lack of flavour, or kinkiness. Instead we should call them bland maybe. Not the people who choose not to be kinky, play with fetishes or experiment with sexuality – bland are the people who perform it all but leave the emotions out of it.

Without the emotions you may as well be doing it yourself, to yourself. If you’re going to be bland about it do so. But, don’t try to drain the emotions out of someone else and hope that will bring you up from being bland to the level of having some flavour. You can’t steal or take emotions because they only feel good when they are your own.

Emotional Attraction is a post from: Divorce Darling

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