Sunday, 7 October 2007


So here it is, the last part of this story i have been telling to myself as well as to anyone who should happen to stop by and read.

So much has happened to me since the day i wrote my first post. If you have read me before you will know how much this whole experience has meant to me.
I know, i know, its just a blog but it has been both a support and a catalyst.
It doesn't feel right to keep this going now so i'm off, but i'm not going back to my little life.
I have a blank piece of paper in front of me and i'm going to fill it with a big fat dose of reality. A reality i can't wait to get hold of.

I can't explain what all your comments have done for me. I don't want to sound dramatic so i'll just say 'Thanks xxx' and be on my way.

Thursday, 27 September 2007

Roller Coaster

He lowered himself into the deep bath. It was a little too hot, the sort he had to take his time getting into as his body acclimatised. He slowly crouched until he was sat down and stretched out as far as possible. Bending his knees up he sank down until the bubbles touched his chin. He closed his eyes as the heat engulfed his body.

When he opened them again, he saw her sat precariously on the linen basket, writing a list. She liked lists. The yellow post it notes she favoured could be found all over. Shopping lists, presents, jobs to do and some more interesting ones too. Once she wrote a list just for him. Her top 5 desires. He smiled to himself at the memory. They had ticked off all of them long ago.

Her robe had slipped open. One pale breast exposed where the fabric should have overlapped. The silk had also slipped off her thigh and underneath he could see the curve of her bottom, the place he loved to lightly bite. He began to get hard. Underwater his cock began to grow. He watched himself through a gap in the foam.

Attention taken from her writing, she saw a sultry look cross his face. She walked across the room and perched on the edge of the bath.
He grinned.

'Hello you.'

'Hello yourself', she said back, nodding towards the erection now just poking out of the water.

She thought he looked delicious lying there, wet, warm, totally relaxed apart from his cock, which was ready for action. Unable to resist she rolled up her sleeve and reached for him, feeling under the water to where the hardness began. Back on her feet she untied her belt and let the robe slip off her shoulders and onto the floor.

'Move up baby'.

She stepped into the bath and wrapped her legs around his sides.

'I'm going to wash you'.

Pouring bodywash into her palm she felt content to be doing this for him. A creamy lather formed in her hands and she began to stroke it all over his shoulders and chest. Her soapy fingers slipped around his body, over his nipples and under his arms, feeling the hairs she liked so much.

With a smile on his lips he watched her as she focused on cleansing, rubbing and scrubbing. Her concentration amused him at first. He liked all the attention she was giving his body, the intimacy.
Strangely overwhelmed, he pulled her closer and kissed her deeply, trying to express his appreciation. It was a kiss that took away her breath. Kissing him back, tongues searching, devouring each other, bodies trying to get impossibly close while their legs slipped and squeaked against the sides of the bath. They climbed out still kissing, holding on to each others wet arms for support. Onto the bath mat, treading on each others toes, knees banging into knees, his cock pressing against her pubic bone.

Still wet they stumbled towards the bed, his kisses and lip biting led her there like a dance, damp footprints left behind. They fell on the bed, him on top. Bathwater dripped from his hair onto her cheeks as the frantic kisses stopped. No need for translation, the eyes spoke a million words in a language only they could understand. She arched her back and spread her legs wider to enable him to get close. 'Closer' was her silent plea. Stomachs together, arms pressed against arms, fingers intertwined. This was slow, hard, gut wrenching. Controlled physically but emotional touchpaper. All too much to comprehend she closed her eyes and let the sex take control. It was a roller coaster but one she knew, although the sheer height, twists and jolts continued to surprise her. She knew if she opened her eyes it would be to the unknown. She kept them closed until hours later she fell asleep, his beautiful body still wrapped around her in the damp bed.

Monday, 24 September 2007


Sometimes i would like to get what i want without having to ask for it.

I want controlling, instructing, ordering. Let me see a look on your face that tells me you have been consumed by, wrapped up in and completely flooded by lust. Then i will feel it.....passion, heat, thrill and your power over me.....all the emotions that i am discovering are a necessity to me.

Alone i can pretend that i am that girl. She doesn't feel guilty or selfish. She deserves to get everything she desires. She gets more than what she even knew was out there. Do you know why?
Because when someone gives her those things (and as a gift - no pay back required) they get the absolute best of her. Simple but so hard to achieve.

She can be tested, pushed, stretched beyond limits and left in a crumpled heap, panting, exhausted.
She has her eyes open and is breathing it all in, that's why.

So, how can you expect to get what you want if you don't ask for it? What i am struggling with is the fact that i think it has got to be an essential part and at the core of someone to give like that. If that isn't the case then can they learn it? Would it feel as good? It is a base emotion, you either have it or you don't. Am i wrong?

Friday, 21 September 2007


In the hours that had passed between leaving the office and the 10.30am bus ride she had been unable to keep control.

Piles of discarded underwear lay on her bedroom floor, different skirts, blouses; she had even tried on her fishnets, blushing at her obviousness and pushing them to the back of the drawer. Settling on a rich, dark purple set that contrasted with her pale skin, she spent a restless night guessing and anticipating.

What was his definition of punishment? The element of fear was certainly thrilling but was she out of her depth? What limits did she have and would he go beyond them if she asked him to stop? After all she did not know this man on a personal level, merely obeyed his instructions as to the work he wanted her to do. However she knew how he ran his hand through the back of his hair while he mulled over a problem, she watched carefully when he would occasionally close his eyes and and lean back in his chair. How she wanted to kiss him, place her lips on his while his eyes were shut.

She opened the office door at exactly 11am. By deliberately not arriving early she had attempted to gain some of the control but as soon as he turned around any confidence slipped away.

'Stand here please', he said, pointing to the space next to his chair and desk.

She stood there, hoping he couldn't hear the way each breath faltered.


He turned back to his computer screen as she carefully took off each item, placing them on the desk. Inside she was screaming, 'Why? Why aren't you watching me strip for you?' But no words would come. Everything gone she stood, just waiting, flushed with anger and arousal.

He turned his chair to face her and removed his glasses. He leaned closer and his eyes travelled up her body, slowly, as if he was trying to memorise every part.

'Make yourself come as you did yesterday'

She suddenly felt strangely disappointed. Was this all he wanted? To watch her masturbate in his chair?

He got up and offered his seat. When she didn't raise her leg as before, he gripped her ankle and placed her foot up on the desk exposing her, pink and glistening. Again she began stroking and as the blissful feelings began to overtake her body she lost her inhibitions and moved her fingers just as she liked. Fast, fast, slow, drawing out and elongating the ecstasy. Bringing herself to the brink, she finally let go, gushing over her fingers and the leather of his chair.

'Mmmmm......good girl'

The large wet patch made her feel ashamed and proud at the same time. Was that it she wondered?

'On your feet please.'

He helped her out of the chair once more. She reached for her pile of clothes.

'Did i say get dressed?'

These words sent sparks through her veins, reaching every nerve, every pore, every hair on her body.

'Bend over.' He pointed to the arm of his chair.

Barely considering the vulnerability of this position, she bent over, her tummy resting on the wide leather arm. She supported her upper body with her elbows and watched his reflection in the monitor as he removed his belt.
Panic. Is this going to really hurt? Somehow the invisible rope of lust and her willingness to submit to him tied her there.

'Tilt your hips'
She obliged.

She gasped. It wasn't the belt.
Hot and hard he skillfully slid his cock inside her. With every stroke she felt the warmth of his body against her bare arse. The intense and rhythmic thrusts causing such heat. Slowly at first, creeping from the tips of her toes, up the inside of her thighs, down her arms, over her breasts, filling her head. She let him take over. Right there in that moment she belonged to him.

Her arms gave way and her face fell onto the seat.

'Smell where you came, taste it.'

He placed his hand on her hair, the other on her hip.
Everything was telling her this was wrong, dirty, obscene even. It was that thought that made her press her face into the pool of her come, smear it all over her cheeks and drink in the smell.
As the power of her orgasm built, her pussy gripped him so tight, almost pushing him out of her. He grabbed both hips to steady himself as her jolting frame surrounded his cock. He thrust again, pushing himself so deep as he came inside her.

She lay panting, shaking, weak. He helped her up onto her trembling legs, and turned her around to face him. She was totally out of her depth. Completely vulnerable. She had unearthed a whole new self that even she had no clue existed.

He cradled her elbows as she stepped back into her skirt and held out her blouse as if aiding her with a coat. Almost within reach of reality she was able to put on her shoes and make towards her desk.


He leaned forward, held her face in his hands and kissed her lips so tenderly.

'Thank you'.

Monday, 17 September 2007

Mr. Stevens

A little bit of escapism.

A little part-time work, something to keep her mind active, that was what was needed.
And so that is how she had become P.A. to Mr. Stevens. It was only a couple of hours a day but she enjoyed the Independence it gave her. There was also another reason.

Ever since the first morning spent in his company, her private thoughts were occupied by fantasies and scenarios. He had shown her all the things that were expected of her in a polite but authoritative way and then left her to get on with her work.

Why was this man effecting her in this way? For the first time in her life she felt so keen to please, to make his coffee just right and everytime he spoke to her she was certain he saw her blushes. The hours before work had become part of the excitement. Choosing just the right outfit, smart enough to look efficient, elegant enough to attract his attention.The perfect shade of lipstick just in case he should glance at her mouth, her lips as she spoke.

Walking to his office the butterflies would intensify and she had to try to calm herself down before they would be in the same room where her desire to be noticed was almost audible.
She wondered, had he seen her eyes watching him as he sat at his desk?
Had he noticed the stockings she wore and the way she crossed her legs to expose a hint of lace?
Had he felt her warmth, seen her breasts in that sheer white bra as she leaned over him just a little too close, just a little too far, as she brought him his coffee?

Her behaviour almost embarrassed her but she was unable to stop, such was her need to be touched by this man. The tension was so uncontainable that crashing through her door after work she would run upstairs, lay across her bed and place her hand in her knickers and stroke the wetness pooled between her lips.

This weeks work promised to be uneventful as Mr.Stevens was to be away from his office. She was sure he had seen the disappointment flash across her face before she had regained her composure. On with her work.

The large, oak desk, the leather chair, the keyboard touched by his fingers, the smell of this room twisted her insides, flooded her senses.

She sat in his chair, pushing it from side to side. Imagining his hands, his arms, his shoulders, she squeezed her thighs tight.
Could she be wet already?
Stroking her nipples through her bra she slipped off her heels, stretching and arching her back. Buttons were undone, zips pulled down, knickers dropped to the base of the chair. This was so unlike her and it thrilled her to strip, here in this office.

With one leg up on his desk she stroked and circled her clit, gasping as she brushed past her special place. Getting faster, wetter, her fingers worked her body well, back and bottom lifting off the seat.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her wrist. Eyes wide she looked at him.

'Come', he instructed.


Quickly her juices spilled onto the leather and droplets of her satisfaction rolled to the top of her stocking.
He took hold of her fingers and put them on her lips which she licked, their eyes locked.

'Good girl. Now get dressed.'

He held her hand as she stood up.

'Back to work please'.

'Yes. Yes Mr.Stevens'.

Sat at her desk still shaking he spoke into her ear.

'I think you should be punished, don't you?'

Unable to speak she just nodded.

'Be here at 11am'.

Before he left her side he ran a fingertip from her earlobe to her collarbone.

'Don't be late'.

Sunday, 16 September 2007

What I Know Today

On a scrap of paper i have the final post i was going to make.

You have probably seen it coming, the difficulties i have in writing what i want to say without hurting J but at the same time being true. It all got too much and in the middle of a hideous storm; emotion, hurt, confusion all flying around wildly, it was decided that was it . No more blog.


If that is what it takes, i am prepared to do it. Give it all up. Stop doing something i have come to love. Maybe this seems silly but i have cried buckets over the thought of not being able to write. I know what i have to say isn't ground breaking or especially clever but the relief i have felt in the past couple of months has been utterly overwhelming and so incredibly reassuring that i've wept. Many times. This has been simply the most amazing discovery and thank you all for letting me in. Reading your words has made me feel less alone than i ever thought possible.

Skulking around the playground on Friday pick up, wearing huge sunglasses to cover my smeared mascara and red eyes ( i really am the worlds most unattractive crier) it hit me. I am not a victim. Stop feeling so sorry for yourself girl. Get up, get on with it. I'm 31. I've worked hard to get to this place in my head, starting to accept that i'm actually OK. I'm not giving it up, no way. I'm not falling apart and i am unable to explain what that knowledge means to me. It's HUGE is the best i can do.

I have always wanted someone to tell me what to do but hooray, hooray, hooray, i don't anymore.
I know what to do.

I'm scaring myself now! I'm terrified if i can tell you the truth. But that's alright, terrified in a good way if that makes any sense at all. I'm still here.

Someone told me that maybe this is a good thing, that this needed to happen. They are right. Because now i know for absolute certain that i can do this, this life and all the stuff that it brings. I can prioritize and establish what is important and what is crucial.

So, as you can see i'm still blogging and with the support of those around me.

Friday, 14 September 2007

Still Here

Am still here but only just................will explain more when i can.