Tuesday, oh Tuesday, we have arrived!
I have a dinner party tonight that I'm particularly excited about! I have a great friend who loves to put on a dinner with diverse personalities. It's kind of like chemistry, people chatting about all sorts of sordid things...
Ah, but I digress.
I've been playing with a boy lately who's all about dressing up like 1940s pin up model, foundation garments and all. Of course, we get him sauced before taking it to the one forbidden place he yearns for, after all the clothing wraps him tight. Some men crave permission to slide their thighs around the hardness of a -
Oh, wait, am I boring you? *giggle
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
ZAP through My hot molten hardware...
Mistress has been a hard working little bee this week! I had a mishap that I'm still trying to right…
I've had a lovely laptop computer since 2008. I have loved it, fondled it, and been smitten since. This little Toshiba Satellite A305 has been a blessing. I've been able to stay in touch with you while on trips, while in coffee shops. It's been My gateway to many of you.
And this week…. My morning water drown the little laptop without warning. It took 3 years to get to it, but yes, I erupted all over the keyboard!! Unplugged it pronto, chucked out the battery, and waited. 1 week. Mistress patiently disassembled her lover laptop, aired it out in front of a fan for days, case propped, every deep crevice and component open. Today was the day, to start up the beast again.
Oh the first hour was lovely, everything booted. I even FACEBOOKED for a few minutes! And then….
Repeated system restarts. Even before BIOS testing. Happy hard disk, however My beautiful little laptop had succumbed to the deadly combination of electricity and water. It's a shorted motherboard issue at this point. It cannot contain, direct it's own POWER!!!
Mistress must have a new laptop.
I'm looking at My Toshiba, My fallen angel. I've gotten so attached to a silly piece of hardware. *Sniff*
Mistress will need such support during Her mourning. Feel free to call and say a kind word. Mistress needs the strength of a new laptop friend… The shoulder of a kind slave to cry on while I become smitten with My new lover, laptop...
I've had a lovely laptop computer since 2008. I have loved it, fondled it, and been smitten since. This little Toshiba Satellite A305 has been a blessing. I've been able to stay in touch with you while on trips, while in coffee shops. It's been My gateway to many of you.
And this week…. My morning water drown the little laptop without warning. It took 3 years to get to it, but yes, I erupted all over the keyboard!! Unplugged it pronto, chucked out the battery, and waited. 1 week. Mistress patiently disassembled her lover laptop, aired it out in front of a fan for days, case propped, every deep crevice and component open. Today was the day, to start up the beast again.
Oh the first hour was lovely, everything booted. I even FACEBOOKED for a few minutes! And then….
Repeated system restarts. Even before BIOS testing. Happy hard disk, however My beautiful little laptop had succumbed to the deadly combination of electricity and water. It's a shorted motherboard issue at this point. It cannot contain, direct it's own POWER!!!
Mistress must have a new laptop.
I'm looking at My Toshiba, My fallen angel. I've gotten so attached to a silly piece of hardware. *Sniff*
Mistress will need such support during Her mourning. Feel free to call and say a kind word. Mistress needs the strength of a new laptop friend… The shoulder of a kind slave to cry on while I become smitten with My new lover, laptop...
Thursday, February 17, 2011
To filthy masticators...
It's freezing outside, yet daffodils have the audacity to bloom. Even in the cold.
I find it intriguing, where desire blossoms. We find ourselves surrounded by many things to want, yet you perverts come to Me, for that which dare not speak it's name. Your selfish hidden needs get wrapped up so tight, the knots occasionally refuse to be unspun.
It's the quiet and the still, that gives us air to open. When all else has settled and you've no distractions to distort, that thing you hide will rise. And you best hold on. We both know your fear.
"Will this thing tear me down into nothing. Will I be seen with the forbidden, and be cast out. Will others know me." The true you.
I bet that scares and delights you, dear reader. I'll bet it fuels your hardness.
I'm a vegetarian for the most part, yet at times, My body craves to swallow flesh. Flesh which lived and walked this earth. I lapse into being a meat eater, and purr after a fresh feast of this. Puts Me in touch with the animal I am. The beast which hunts and conquers.
And we both know, you're dessert.
I find it intriguing, where desire blossoms. We find ourselves surrounded by many things to want, yet you perverts come to Me, for that which dare not speak it's name. Your selfish hidden needs get wrapped up so tight, the knots occasionally refuse to be unspun.
It's the quiet and the still, that gives us air to open. When all else has settled and you've no distractions to distort, that thing you hide will rise. And you best hold on. We both know your fear.
"Will this thing tear me down into nothing. Will I be seen with the forbidden, and be cast out. Will others know me." The true you.
I bet that scares and delights you, dear reader. I'll bet it fuels your hardness.
I'm a vegetarian for the most part, yet at times, My body craves to swallow flesh. Flesh which lived and walked this earth. I lapse into being a meat eater, and purr after a fresh feast of this. Puts Me in touch with the animal I am. The beast which hunts and conquers.
And we both know, you're dessert.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Taverns and turn ons
Tonight a friend took Me out to play a little pool, at a local dive bar. My friend Chris is one of those serious players. Mistress plays pool about as often as I go fishing (which I think may have happened at some point, in the past decade). My lady friend chose the locale, as she's a player owning her own custom pool cue, leather case and all...
I felt a bit like a tourist. Bars, drinking, gambling, and mating rituals can be fun to watch, yet regretful in the light of day. And as we both know, there are other ways to feed deep appetites.
I watched her slide on a purple spandex glove, with a few fingers missing (designed to help a player steady the cue, and keeps it smooth). She chalks up the cue, lines her prey. The place has that smell, a bit like a dorm hall. Stale beer had seeped into the carpet regularly. We were left undisturbed for quite some time, and I got to feel a bit inept at the sport, with moments of brilliance mixed in.
After a few games we were approached by two very dark black men, and asked if we'd like to play doubles. Chris and I chat a bit, then say yes. She's used to the rhythms of this, and I'm still watching and learning. I embrace a bit of innocence and discovery, even though these paths are known.
After a game or two, the older man with his skin so deep, like dark chocolate, starts leaning in a bit too close. He smells of many cigarettes and hard liquor. I felt Myself cringe with the scent, yet found his openness, and desire to see how far I'd let him in, curious. I'm open and playful, yet savvy, and before he knows it I've thrown him a couple quick bones of wit that left him slack jawed. Yes, satisfying. Yet I hunger for a playmate that responds in kind. It's sometimes too easy to leave a man breathless.
And just as he realizes there's much more going on under this surface, Chris and I say good evening, and thank you. We beat them at both games, and I feel satisfied.
What would you like to be beat at, dear reader? I'll bet you're just as pretty when breathless...
I felt a bit like a tourist. Bars, drinking, gambling, and mating rituals can be fun to watch, yet regretful in the light of day. And as we both know, there are other ways to feed deep appetites.
I watched her slide on a purple spandex glove, with a few fingers missing (designed to help a player steady the cue, and keeps it smooth). She chalks up the cue, lines her prey. The place has that smell, a bit like a dorm hall. Stale beer had seeped into the carpet regularly. We were left undisturbed for quite some time, and I got to feel a bit inept at the sport, with moments of brilliance mixed in.
After a few games we were approached by two very dark black men, and asked if we'd like to play doubles. Chris and I chat a bit, then say yes. She's used to the rhythms of this, and I'm still watching and learning. I embrace a bit of innocence and discovery, even though these paths are known.
After a game or two, the older man with his skin so deep, like dark chocolate, starts leaning in a bit too close. He smells of many cigarettes and hard liquor. I felt Myself cringe with the scent, yet found his openness, and desire to see how far I'd let him in, curious. I'm open and playful, yet savvy, and before he knows it I've thrown him a couple quick bones of wit that left him slack jawed. Yes, satisfying. Yet I hunger for a playmate that responds in kind. It's sometimes too easy to leave a man breathless.
And just as he realizes there's much more going on under this surface, Chris and I say good evening, and thank you. We beat them at both games, and I feel satisfied.
What would you like to be beat at, dear reader? I'll bet you're just as pretty when breathless...
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The bidding of phallic presents
So this is how My perverted mind thinks….
Mistress has a bevy of toys, collected over a few years. Insertables, to be clear. Some are gifts from slaves in the past, or ones bought on a whim. Some of them worked WONDERFULLY (and still do!) and a few were more experimental, and less practical.
One example dubbed the Big Betty, is a 12 inch glass dildo, 2 inches wide, that I barely was able to get inside sugar walls… That one I gave to a friend in need, after an attempt or two at using it (it just wasn't comfy). My friend is a size queen who had just lost her lover (a very tall, well built, black man). Last I heard, Big Betty and she had become very good friends…
Of all the dildos that I enjoy the most, My fave is a very stout black dildo, with lots of pseudo raised veins on the side, for extra sensation. The head of it too makes a pleasing pop of an entrance. Of course, depends on the tightness of the location... (giggle)
Yet what does Mistress do with toys used only a few times, and left to look pretty in My collection, but rarely used? All of them have visited the most personal places of My body, yet only a few are invited to return.
While looking at My garden of dildos today, I had a wild idea!
I've been saving to move from My present abode, and have been packing boxes, cleaning here and there, getting ready to spring forth and find a new nest for Mistress. When people are raising money for a cause, they have bake sales, car washes …
Consider this unique application. To help with the cause of helping Mistress Lily move? I'll auction off the phallic pretties that need someone to play with! Money raised from such a venture will go to the "Helping Ms Lily Move" fund!
Wild concept, I know… What are your thoughts on such a fund raiser? If you're intrigued, I might even let you in on the bidding (and offer perhaps a photo or two!). For more details, write or call Me!
Mistress has a bevy of toys, collected over a few years. Insertables, to be clear. Some are gifts from slaves in the past, or ones bought on a whim. Some of them worked WONDERFULLY (and still do!) and a few were more experimental, and less practical.
One example dubbed the Big Betty, is a 12 inch glass dildo, 2 inches wide, that I barely was able to get inside sugar walls… That one I gave to a friend in need, after an attempt or two at using it (it just wasn't comfy). My friend is a size queen who had just lost her lover (a very tall, well built, black man). Last I heard, Big Betty and she had become very good friends…
Of all the dildos that I enjoy the most, My fave is a very stout black dildo, with lots of pseudo raised veins on the side, for extra sensation. The head of it too makes a pleasing pop of an entrance. Of course, depends on the tightness of the location... (giggle)
Yet what does Mistress do with toys used only a few times, and left to look pretty in My collection, but rarely used? All of them have visited the most personal places of My body, yet only a few are invited to return.
While looking at My garden of dildos today, I had a wild idea!
I've been saving to move from My present abode, and have been packing boxes, cleaning here and there, getting ready to spring forth and find a new nest for Mistress. When people are raising money for a cause, they have bake sales, car washes …
Consider this unique application. To help with the cause of helping Mistress Lily move? I'll auction off the phallic pretties that need someone to play with! Money raised from such a venture will go to the "Helping Ms Lily Move" fund!
Wild concept, I know… What are your thoughts on such a fund raiser? If you're intrigued, I might even let you in on the bidding (and offer perhaps a photo or two!). For more details, write or call Me!
Friday, December 10, 2010
Beast in a cave, sleeping
This morning in the wee hours, the power went out in My fair city. At least the chunk I reside in. Was eerie, and quiet for a few moments. The only light in the place was coming from My laptop screen. I did due diligence, called the power folks, then waited.
We forget what we depend on, until these things disappear. I gathered up keys after a few moments, locked the house up, and went for a drive in the dark rain. Half the city was murky and dim, occasional headlights streaming down wet pavement. The strange halting drivers at the dead stoplights, taking our turns with right of way. Odd to feel the blanket of these streets dark, and slumbering. Like a beast in a cave, sleeping.
After restless driving, seeking the boundaries of the murk, I made My way home, crawled in to bed, and waited for electricity, or sleep to catch Me.
As of yet, still the former.
Bring Me your own dark mystery, dear reader, let it mingle with My own…
We forget what we depend on, until these things disappear. I gathered up keys after a few moments, locked the house up, and went for a drive in the dark rain. Half the city was murky and dim, occasional headlights streaming down wet pavement. The strange halting drivers at the dead stoplights, taking our turns with right of way. Odd to feel the blanket of these streets dark, and slumbering. Like a beast in a cave, sleeping.
After restless driving, seeking the boundaries of the murk, I made My way home, crawled in to bed, and waited for electricity, or sleep to catch Me.
As of yet, still the former.
Bring Me your own dark mystery, dear reader, let it mingle with My own…
Monday, November 29, 2010
Passion, Paris
Tonight I meandered through the tele channels, and settled on Globe Trekker. They were walking Paris, showing us the spots with their bright lenses. One detour brought a bookstore where Anais Nin, Henry Miller and oodles of others, shared words, glances, rumbling desire. It looked snug and very warm. So many books and nooks. I wanted to crawl like a cat through pages, and listen to the poets read their voice.
Nin, Miller - I've read a bit of their work. Although I'm more into their mythology… an amateur really. I've tried reading Miller and have yet to get the hook. He's messy, passionate, cruel yet charming... Anais Nin's desire seemed more in line with Mine, sensual, curious, exploring shame and hidden desires.
And their bodies lay to dust. Yet their words still entice us. I fantasize about passion that deep and reckless. I tend to be more controlled in romantic choices than most. Men have to accept that I enjoy this work with you little offspring, and I'm sometimes shy to share it.
Real power tends to be selective. And our secrets, give us mystery, and sometimes keep us sick.
Let your darkness breathe with Me, yes let's see how you open, wide...
Nin, Miller - I've read a bit of their work. Although I'm more into their mythology… an amateur really. I've tried reading Miller and have yet to get the hook. He's messy, passionate, cruel yet charming... Anais Nin's desire seemed more in line with Mine, sensual, curious, exploring shame and hidden desires.
And their bodies lay to dust. Yet their words still entice us. I fantasize about passion that deep and reckless. I tend to be more controlled in romantic choices than most. Men have to accept that I enjoy this work with you little offspring, and I'm sometimes shy to share it.
Real power tends to be selective. And our secrets, give us mystery, and sometimes keep us sick.
Let your darkness breathe with Me, yes let's see how you open, wide...
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