If You Were- Part 1

I have an outfit picked out for you- black leather skirt with a zipper that runs all the way from top to bottom, black bra and panties- raw silk and lace, a thick black garter belt and stockings with a seam up the back; a deep indigo blouse that buttons up the front, shimmery and soft, cool like water on your skin; a black collar with the word SLUT engraved on it and some black leather boots with stupidly high heels (don’t worry, you won’t have to walk far in them). Everything is snug, but movable enough that I can pull them out of the way without taking them off... until I’m ready.

All of this is laid out on the bed when I bring you into the room. I leave you standing just inside the door for now while I make you a drink. I like how nervous you are. Your eyes keep darting to the clothes on the bed, then to me when you think I'm not looking, but I see every move you make. You glance nervously at the center of the room, at what's hanging there. Your eyes linger there for a minute as you lick your lips, unaware that you're doing it, unaware of how obvious the desire is in your eyes, under the nervousness as you thank me for the drink I hold out just a little out of your reach, so you have to lean in to take it.


We make small talk, I ask you if the room is warm enough. You shift your weight from foot to foot and smile. I can almost hear you wondering if you should've come here. The drink goes down too fast and I make the next one weaker so you aren't too tipsy. I want you all there for me later. You haven't asked to sit yet, not sure of protocol, or even if there is protocol. I wonder if you think you might still have a chance to leave if you decided you've changed your mind. This makes me smile.


You look a little startled when I ask you to change into the clothes on the bed. "What....here?" you say, your eyes going wide, your body a little rigid. Of course, I tell you. I ask you if you mind. There's just the slightest pause before you chuckle, your hand shaky as you move to set down your glass and you say, "of course not. If that's what you want...." Your voice trails off and when I don't say anything, but just stand there waiting, you move to the bed and touch each piece lightly. "They're all the right size," you say with raised eyebrows. I ask you if you're surprised and you laugh lightly, give a little shake of your head.


You turn your body away from me and begin to undress, but I stop you with a word. Softly, I suggest you turn towards me so I can watch every step of the process. You freeze a little, but then, with an effort, you slowly turn to face me, your hands held in front of you as though you were already naked. I step closer to you, put my hand softly on your cheek and turn your face to mine, looking directly into your eyes. It's the lightest of touches- my skin on yours, but you shiver and this pleases me. You raise your eyes to mine and I'm smiling that pleasure, looking deep into your eyes. I take a deep breath and feel you begin to breath with me as your body softens and you give me a trembling smile back. Not a word has passed, but the dialogue is heady.


I look at the clothes on the bed and you step back, so I can see all of you. You're still trembling a little, but you seem more present now, more sure. You pull the shirt off over your head almost defiantly, keeping your eyes on my face as much as possible. You reach down and unzip your jeans...slowly...tantalizingly. I can't take my eyes off your hips, your crotch, the mound there and my breath catches as you lower them and your underwear in one swift, determined movement. They pool at your feet and you step out of them, kicking them away from you. I look up to your face again, feeling a little flushed and now you're smiling wider, easier. You reach for the pieces of clothing on the bed and start to put them on, which is somehow even more seductive than watching you get naked. Panties slide up over your smooth thighs, garter belt snapped around the curve of your waist, then the bra and the stockings, each foot up on the bed in turn as you roll them up over your lovely legs, taking your time to straighten the seams. I can hear the silk rasp lightly over your skin and I imagine I smell the perfume from between your legs as you raise one, then the other. I watch your trembling fingers as they fasten the garters one by one.

The blouse and the skirt- you do love to take your time with zippers, don't you? You start to sit on the bed edge to put on the boots, but I stop you with a word and lead you to the chair to sit. Your hand is soft and hot in mine, damp with a light sheen of sweet. The chemicals in that fluid soak into my skin and I can smell you now, undeniably, like a flower blossoming under a light tropic rain. You smell soft, yielding....ripe



I take a deep breath, won't look into your eyes right now for fear I will lose control. Instead, I look to the table at the side of the chair and busy myself with the makeup I've set out there on your face. You came to my door clean, a blank canvas, as I requested and now it's time for the finishing touches. I highlight and contour, paint and stain, emphasize and dramatize. Your beauty is molded and intensified under my brushes, a thin current of electricity traveling between us through my brushes as they move across your skin like a caress. Your breathing is deeper and a little faster now. I am almost caught in your eyes again and again, but somehow I continue.




Under my hands, you begin to look like someone else, like yourself in a parallel universe, yet somehow more yourself than ever. The nervousness is almost gone now and something else, some slow fire is beginning to take its place. I imagine I see a glimmer of quiet danger growing in deep in your eyes. I finish with lip stain; stain that won't smudge because as soon as I’m done, I  lean in towards your face, my lips stopping a hair's breath away from yours. You start to move towards me and I tell you to stop, to be still...a still as a shadow, as still as a winter star...and you stop, your breathing going shallow and hot. As slow as time, as slow as forever I move my lips to yours, feeling the charge build in the shrinking space between us and your breath start to catch a little. Where we meet finally, it's like honey under a noon sun. I linger, brushing softly against you and you moan a little, deep in your throat. I murmur your name, move my mouth to your ear and whisper how beautiful you are to me, how happy I am that you've given yourself to me, consented to be mine for awhile. I lightly brush my lips over your chin, your throat, your ears-  indulge myself with a gentle nip here and there. It's with some difficulty that I keep myself from biting you any harder...yet.  I pull back and gaze into your eyes. There is a soft, open look in them now that I find intensely pleasing. They tell me that I can do almost anything with you now....


With a determined effort, I pull myself away from your skin, your gaze and move to stand beneath the center of the room, below what's been waiting for you from the beginning. The  wrist cuffs suspended there draw your eyes again. And again, you lick your lips briefly without being conscious of it, I'm sure. The nervousness is back in your eyes and I understand, knowing you haven't been here before, fully understanding the excitement and fear behind the first time. My excitement is growing and I tell you to come to me. I am gently but firm. There is no question that you will come and you don't hesitate, though there is something in your eyes that wants to, I can see. But the time for that is past and we both know it. You are mine.


You rise onto those boots, those ridiculous heels that you are completely unaccustomed to wobbling a little under you. You find your balance and make your way to stand in front of me. I lean in to kiss you again, wrapping my fingers tightly in the hair at the nape of your neck, putting your face where I want it as I kiss you harder this time, hunger rising up in me, the persistent throbbing in my crotch fanning into an ache that shoots right up through my middle. Your mouth opens, surrendering to the famished crush of my lips on yours. I want to swallow you, deep into the core of me, I want to crush you where you stand, pinned between my head and hands, hanging like a martyr. If I did not hole my desire in check, I would quite possibly eat you alive.


Somehow I make myself stop and gazing straight into your eyes, I bring the collar in my hands up, placing it around your tender throat, buckling it firmly around your neck and giving it a playful tug, moving your head gently, firmly where I want to, because I can and I want us both to know it. I say the word engraved there softly- slut slut slut- a shade of a growl deep in my throat. Your eyes are a little dazed, closed part way and there isn't a hint of nervousness to you anymore. My slut. Mine, I say. Because I like the sound of it in my mouth. I like the sound of it coming out of my mouth, heavy with desire and owning, wrapping around your being like the collar fastened firmly around your lovely neck.

I tug again and move you toward the cuffs hanging in wait. You're caught off guard and stumble a little on these tortuous heels. I won't let you fall and you're almost beyond caring, drunk on the energy that's claiming us. I lower the bar and fasten the cuffs in place, your hands open and close helplessly, becoming acquainted with their futility. I raise the bar up, up until your arms are overhead, your open, dreamy face framed within them like a cloud. There are tiny beads of sweat on your upper lip and I lick them off gently, then bite at your lips slowly, sucking them into my mouth, leaving puffy red marks in a trail behind them.

(to be continued...) 

Sex Positive Scenes

Last Saturday was The Call of the Wild, a sex positive, pansexual event put on by the local sex positive pansexual group of which I am a cog in the machine (not to be confused with "deus ex machina", though in my grander moments I may delude myself). It was an interesting evening, a little too interesting some would say. Not me- things are rarely too interesting for me, but that's one more way I'm a freak. Here's an excerpt from the announcement:  

 "Each of us, though human, is in fact a wild animal by design. Like many animals we interact or identify with, we seek to communicate and form bonds, are sensitive to various stimuli, and are subject to our own and others’ instinctual behaviors and primal urges. As humans, we also care for, study, and attempt to dominate and domesticate other animals. We invite you to explore your animalistic tendencies and join other deliciou...s creatures to share in a wild night of play, passion, connection, sensation, and natural expression.

Please join us on April 2nd 2011 from 7PM to 1 AM for the....Call of the Wild! Come see kinksters in their natural habitat, and see if you can tame other beasts or be trained yourself! Costumes are encouraged but always optional. Furries, Submissive Pets, Ranchers, Cowgirls, Playboy Bunnies and Penthouse Pets, Veterinarians, Ponies, Milk Maids, Mythical Beasts, Leather Bears, Lizard Kings, Horny Toads, Deep Sea Divers, Muff Divers, One Eyed Snakes, Lion Tamers, Horse Whisperers, Friendly Felines, Man’s Best Friend, etc…how will you express the animal in you?"

It was wonderful to see how many different interpretations there were of the theme. Myself, my first hit was to want to go as Tigger (one of my inner children. Yes- there are more than one). There there was discussion of Where the Wild Things Are, with me as Max and my date as Carol, but time, energy and money were in short supply, so those things didn't happen. I ended going as a wrangler/tamer. It was fun and probably a lot cooler than the other costumes would've been. And I do mean cooler temperature wise. Nothing, but nothing is cooler in the "cool" sense than Tigger. In my opinion. 

It was interesting in that, as opposed to the usual party that takes on a certain vibe or character and pretty much maintains it for the evening, the energy of this one was jagged- up/down, smooth/sharp, round/spiky. I'm not sure how else to explain it. It was something of a little roller coaster for me and some of the other attendees. I was telling a friend about this later and he laughed, saying, "Sounds like an emotional bronc ride. You guys called in wild energy- maybe you should've been a little more specific".  He has a point. Careful what you wish for and be specific. 

Well, if it was wild we wanted, it was wild we got. Following are some snapshots of moments throughout the evening:

• Two furries dancing together: one giant blue dog in a lacy trimmed pink dress and a giant pink rabbit (I can't for the life of me remember what it was wearing). I love furries. I know people who are furries come to the parties in other-wear, but rarely in furry-wear. There were two furries at the first party I went to two years ago, attended by a Mistress in a black body suit sporting a whip. I was mesmerized by their interactions and someone was kind enough to explain what a furry was. 

I was further fascinated when the furries (at my first party) all ended up on a bed in the dungeon space together, the two dogs fucking each other while the Mistress whipped the one on top from the side of the bed. There were openings in the suits for easy access to their cocks. The rest of them stayed in the suits. It was pretty mind blowing! What I loved the most was the combination of eroticism and playfulness. 

Alas, the furries at the party this past weekend didn't have sex, at least not where I could see them, but it was terrific fun watching them dance and play around anyway, surrounded by people in leather, mini-skirts and nothing at all, it was like a freaky Disney scene.

• There was a young woman there in roller skates most of the night. I love to skate, but I don't think I'd want to do it at a party, in a dim room crowded with people. But she was beaming. And hot in a short black dress and a pony tail high on her head. At some point, I saw her on a bed near the dance floor with 3 other people. They were paired up and Skate Girl was getting plowed missionary style by some dude with a sexy, muscular back and a bald head. The only reason I knew it was her is because, other than the shirt hiked up under her arm pits so her small, perky tits were bouncing around as they bumped, she was still wearing the roller skates. Wheels in the air spinning. *awesome*.  

• A dark haired, dark skinned beauty wearing wolfy ears, a skimpy, fur vest hanging open and fish net stockings over an ass like a firm pumpkin. He was vamp dancing with us by turns on the dance floor. He was bed hoppin a little bit too, at one point landing for quite awhile in a bed with a couple that doesn't always get a lot of action, but lately seem to be scoring more than Bach did in his lifetime. The three of them went through several positions outlined in the Kama Sutra, ending up in a three way thrust with the dark haired beauty on the bottom, the lovely woman between his legs facing him while her husband pounded her from behind. I'm still trying to figure out what exactly was going on there. It took my breath away to see them all so enraptured.

• The gorgeous young gay men with pony tails down to their asses, wearing tight leather pants who couldn't keep their hands off each others slim bodies or off the buff young blonde homo-curious guy who somehow managed to get both of their cocks in his mouth at the same time (I already knew he was a big mouth, but was impressed nonetheless). The big blonde hottie was adorable as he followed them around for the rest of the night, looking like a religious convert.  

These were a few of my favorite things. There were more, but they weren't all happy moments. Like I said, it was a bumpy ride. I'll leave off the rougher moments for now. I just wanted to give you a peek at the varied scenery one might view at one of my hometown parties. It's one of the things I enjoy about a pansexual community- the diversity allows for exposure to things that one might not otherwise see or learn about. They might not be my kinks, but I'm always curiously fascinated by what beautifully complex creatures we humans can be, particularly when it comes to the erotic. 

And to the guy who I was rude to near the end of the night: If you were hitting on me, it probably wasn't going to happen, but if I seemed abrupt, I'm sorry and please don't take it personally.  I was very tired, distracted and really didn't understand your question until I got home later and had a chance to replay the moment that I essentially missed as it was happening. So, no- I wasn't in Camelot (any of the versions), but I think you were complimenting me. A belated thank you.  
 
Civility is one of the first things to go on a roller coaster. 

Other Boyish Sports

Conversation with sweetie a few weeks ago:

PP: Well, I guess that's the benefit of having princess hair.

Me (big girl temper tantrum stance): I do NOT have princess hair!

PP (laughing): Okaaaay. You have princess catcher hair!

Me: *grumble grumble*(grab PP and suck on her face in Kingly-entitled fashion)

Later on I remembered Sorsha from "Willow". I'm not sure why Xena didn't come immediately to mind, I was a little surprised myself. Except Sorsha has long been special to me because of her red hair, her fondness for Madmartigan/Val Kilmer (they're married in real life. Or at least they were at the time of filming "Willow"), the fact that she got to dress more like an actual warrior than a leather bikini'ed centerfold and the obvious Celtic ties (the name is derived from the Hebrew "Sarah" meaning "princess" and means "bright, shining light" in Irish). Also Sorsha was daughter to the Demon Queen Bavmorda and despite years as a loyal daughter-minion and commander in her mother's army, love was the drug that eventually destroyed her tortured world, thereby freeing her. Sorsha's mah girl. Though to tell the truth, I've never had a sexual fantasy about Sorsha. Xena though- Xena is one of those characters that, when people say "do her or be her?" I'm honestly stumped. If I can come up with an answer, it will vary by mood.

Now I'm having fantasies of Sorsha and Xena together. Hmmm... how did I not go there before?

Well, with a little diggin, it's apparent that the world is populated with kick ass princesses. It's the Disneyesque/fairy tale ones I generally don't want to be associated with. And most of the actual humans I know that qualify as "Princesses" may be beautiful (if high maintenance) and lovable, it's just not an energy that jives with my own self-image. I did later concede to my sweetie that I could have princess hair if I could be a princess of the Sorcha variety. And especially if I could have her sword. She agreed on the first count and rolled her eyes on the second.

So when I stumbled on this web comic on a friend's Facebook page I was thrilled for a number of reasons.

from www.oglaf.com, The Pea Adult Comics, "tasteful, moody portraits of cocks with eyes"

First of all, I can totally relate to the "Being a Princess is bullshit!" sentiment, as it relates to stereotypical princesses. I think I've covered that.

Second and more important for the point of the blog is the direction this would-not-wannabe-princess takes the exploration of "other" boyish sports". I want this as an option on my list of FetLife kinks. "Other Boyish Sports". It sounds more interesting and mysterious than "pegging" to my ear. Isn't "pegging" what you do in cribbage? I like cribbage, but I don't want it in my bed. Pegging on the other hand, I want in my bed, in my car, on my couch, under the desk, in the confessional, in line at the coffee shop.... I want to do it to her everywhere. But I do want to do it more when it's a sport and not a cribbage attached activity.

It's on my mind, this boyish sport. To start with, I haven't had time alone, much less sex with Princess in days. Add to this that I was at a gathering of people Friday where a lovely young creature was sporting an impressive strap-on job as she tooled (heh) about the house on service oriented missions. We had some fun dildo talk and I kept eye-balling her strap on junk. It was pearly white, ridged and rather largish; and it glowed like...like.... a unicorn horn. For this or that reason, though Princess was at the same party and sex was theoretically an option, it wasn't really in reality. So I haven't had at Princess' lovely little ass in days. I can't stop thinking about it.

How did I manage to get through the first decades of my sexual life without having done it before? It boggles the mind!!! It's not like I didn't want to. And gods know I've stuck plenty of things in boys asses before. I've also put plenty of things in girls asses and cunts, but not dildos, specifically strap-ons. I've never pegged anyone with a strap on in the ass. How this part of my sexual interests has gone unexplored for so long is hard to fathom. I LOVE ass play. It's eventually made its way into all of my intimate interactions to some degree; even the straight boys I've been with have eventually discovered a love for anal stimulation, from tonguing to light finger pressure to finger insertion. But not dildo. Until one day.....

...pretty princess came along. Not only does PP smell really, really good in my nose, in that way that makes me wanna just bury my face in every orifice she has and die a happy human with a hard-on, but PP makes me laugh, think, feel; PP does this thing with eyes, that involve slant and this lash thing, combined with this little smile that FUCKIN WRECKS me; she also has a brain that could light up California, if only we had a way to harness that power (one day, I have no doubt, she will solve this puzzle); PP makes cuddle-love happen where ever she goes; and she has the loveliest, most available ass I've ever known in a lover- killer combo and combined with everything else, a recipe for libidinous bliss. I'm in ass lover's heaven.*woof*

And she is coming over tonight, so it's on my mind- oh yes. I've been hard as a rock all day. She's napping now, because she's smart. She knows me this well at least, by now. She knows that sleep will cum later than her and I, if I have anything to say about it. We are often in accord in these matters. 

Damn it. All the blood in my body must be in my crotch right now. I'm dizzy. I keep thinking I'm going to get this posted today, but focus has not been my strong point. The hard on takes that award. Shit. I'll be back.

Gotta Start Somewhere!

First rope corset and Knotty Boys Pentagram harness.

So I'm gonna start with photos. Photos are FUN, right? Pretties to look at, stories behind each and every one. But there'll be more. No worries. It's been about 25 years since anyone shut me up for long (and they're missing a few fingers, so don't get any ideas). There will be wordage, oh yes- there will be wordage.

Here's the Knotty Boy video I learned this tie from:

There are all kinds of these vids on YouTube and floating around the internet- simple, fun, pretty things you can work up for a night out on the town or wear under your UtiliKilt for kicks or just to have something different to say the next time someone asks you what you wear under that thing.

Happy Accident~it matches the blog's color scheme! In it goes.

Princess says she looks like she's bound for a 

Satanic sacrifice in the 20s in this one. 

  I consider myself a beginning intermediate in the rope bondage department (so many kinks, so little time. and funds.). I recently heard it said at a meeting with other rope enthusiasts that rope should be considered high risk edge play and that if it weren't for the fact that SO many people are SO into it, it would likely be banned at parties and the like. You might want to keep that in mind and just, ya know, approach with some preparation. Never a bad idea when things like circulation are involved.

Rope Was Here

 I would definitely consider rope suspension a very advanced form of play and as such (and like anything involving gravity and being *hung* above a hard floor) high risk. In my beginning-intermediate opinion, basic things like the kind of tie done in these photos, along with single and double column bondage and the like, can be studied up on and practiced pretty safely as long as you follow some basic rules and have some good scissors handy. So don't go tying someone up without learning the basics as well as standard safety precautions. Course, I tend to approach just about any new kind of play that way anyway. I'm not against hurting people (heh), but only when I mean to hurt them and they've given me permission. Damage isn't on the table. Let's not.

And here. . .  the after marks are so purdy.

 After marks are one of the nicest things about taking rope OFF. The sight of my darlin's flesh striated with the memory of rope... well, it's like a rope hickey. "Morgan Was HERE". There's something primaly satisfying about it.

arsty fartin around

There is SO much more I want to tell you about rope. Next couple of weeks I'll share some photos from some of my favorite riggers, as well as some good books to start with, a little history, finding or starting a rope group of your own, and suggestions for practicing when you don't have a willing tie-ee handy (maybe even some suggestions for how to find yourself a willing tie-ee or tie-er. It's not necessary, but most of us think it's a lot more fun that way). Unexplored resources abound. Rope is such a warm, friendly way to warm up our psychic perve muscles. We'll get back to it. Onward, upward, and inward.....