A Threatening Paperweight

Domme's paperweightCan you picture this… your boy notices you’ve got a new paperweight on your desk. It comes with three different sets of screws: dull(ish), sharp as well as long and sharp.

I don’t really need a paperweight, of course. I just like the threat of impending CBT (cock and ball torture, or teasing if he was only sort of a bad boy).

via – JT’s Stockroom – Mike‘s Spikes (R).

My Story: One Wet Afternoon

I posted this to Literotica in 2002. They modified it, making the sub 18 in order to make it clear this was an adult story. I disagreed with the change. The man I wrote the story for was actually 36 and making him 18 turned the story into something kind of gross for me. I asked them to not publish the story at all but, Literotica ignored me. So this was the one and only story I posted to the site. I’m surprised that the site seems to be defunct now. Just a collection of old content.

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. Continue reading My Story: One Wet Afternoon

Perfect Boobs

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Wednesday May 05, 2004  

I didn’t know I have perfect boobs. Now that I know, I’m seriously impressed with myself. I never thought those two roundish lumps could be considered perfect. I’ve always had a fondness for them. I could even go so far as to say I’m… proud of them. They’re not bad as, two roundish lumps stuck to the front of my body, go.

But, to hear they are perfect. Well, that kind of blows my mind. Perfect! Perfect covers a lot of ground.

Perfect is in the eye of the beholder and the hands of the beholder too for that matter. So if he thinks I have perfect boobs, more power to me. More of other things to him but we’ll get to that later, much later. Probably long after your bedtime.

So, now I’m sitting pretty. Perfect boobs protruding just a bit more than usual.

It is kind of odd being a woman, having two appendages sticking out in front of you. Can’t ignore them. Kind of rude looking I sometimes think. As a high school girl I would just give in to the inevitable and rest my boobs on the desk. It hit at just that level. What else could you do? No one could sit that straight in those hard ass chairs all day. So, boobs ended up sitting on my desk. Maybe that is the secret of my perfect boobs, allowing them their place in the halls of learning.

I also think it’s good that I don’t always restrain them into boob traps, boulder holders, bras, etc. Let them have a little freedom to bob, bounce and sway. Boobs like to get out a bit, see the world and have some fun. Grrls just want to have fun! All the girls. I think it’s cute how some women call them “the girls”. I don’t do it myself. Maybe it’s just that bit too cute for me.

Anyway, me and my perfect boobs are about to hit the shower and get to bed tonight. Boobs are easy to wash. Just soap them up, rub around the nipples, under and around the breast and rinse. Other areas are more complicated, involve more steps and less modesty.

Good night. Sweaty dreams.

Dirty Old Wizard

Defiantly, she awaited his command. He stood behind her, old rooster, pushing her over his desk and parting her thighs. Probably having a heart attack just being close to a naked woman.

“This is for your own good.” He wheezed, grabbed her hips, shoved his cock inside her.

He made noises that sickened her as he jabbed his cock in and out of her, his balls flapping in time. Maybe it wouldn’t take long for him to finish.

His hands began roaming, tweaking her nipples, stroking her belly, squeezing her butt. A finger pushed inside her, adding to the penetration, stretching her, rubbing in places unknown until now. She almost moaned out loud.

“You think an old man has no tricks? I’ve got more tricks than I can teach you in just one good fucking. You’re going to come for me little girl.”

His other hand slid down her belly, parted her pussy lips to massage her clit. Trying to regain her anger wasn’t working. Gasping, moaning and squirming, she was going to come, just as he wanted, just as he’d planned.


The word limit is 188 so I had to cut out a lot, see above. Below is my first version of the story. Though even that I had edited down from the 500 plus words that was my first draft.

For Erotic Flash Fiction.

It really wasn’t fair. How was she to become a great Witch if she had to obey ALL the rules. There were far too many rules.

Defiantly, she awaited his command. Standing by his desk, her clothes folded on his chair. Let him do his worst, dirty old Wizard.

He stood behind her, his robe off. He was already hard, old rooster, pushing her over his desk and parting her thighs. Probably having a heart attack just being close to a naked woman.

“This is for your own good.” He wheezed. He grabbed her hips, with a geezerly grunt he shoved his cock inside her.

“I knew you’d be hot for me once I got you bent over my desk.” The old fart rambled on as he jabbed his cock in and out of her. He made noises that sickened her. He got into a rhythm, his cock in and out, his balls flapping in time. Maybe it wouldn’t take long for him to finish.

She was surprised to feel his hands tweaking her nipples, stroking her belly then squeezing her butt. He pushed a finger inside her, adding to the penetration. Moving his finger so deep inside her, stretching her, rubbing in places unknown until now. She almost moaned out loud.

“You think an old man has no tricks? I’ve got more tricks than I can teach you in just one good fucking. You’re going to come for me little girl and then you’re going to come back for more.”

His other hand slid down her belly, parted her pussy lips to massage her clit. Trying to regain her anger wasn’t working. She was the one gasping, grunting and squirming. She was going to come, just as he wanted, just as he planned. How could this happen? It really wasn’t fair!

One Wet Afternoon

One Wet Afternoon
Originally posted to Bait and Switch, my weekly column at Adult BackWash: Sunday June 16, 2002

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.

Keep Your Enthusiasm

Courage is the ability to go from one failure to another without losing your enthusiasm.

I don’t know who this quote came from but I found it today in a book on my nephew’s desk. One of those ‘educational’ books his Mother buys which he actually does read. (More than I would have when I was 13 and my Mom bought me a ‘helpful/ educational’ book). The book is, “10 Minute Life Lessons for Kids” by Jamie Miller.

At the back of the book all the quotes are listed in a summary. Here are a few others I picked out.

If you can not do great things, do small things in a great way.

You can count the seeds in an apple, but you can’t count the apples in a seed.

What Would Buffy Do?

It’s a silly blog title. I’m not even posting about Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Sarah Michelle Geller, not really. I just keep looking at her picture on a book cover as I sit here at my nephew’s computer. He has two Buffy books on his desk.

I found this great swirling snowflake background image which I want to save. Thought this was as easy as emailing it to myself. I’m more likely to find it here versus forgetting it in my swamp of email.

I should be home again tomorrow. Almost a week of babysitting. Stretched longer cause they are supposed to be sanding the drywall in the basement and there is a lot of dust. Unless they clean up after themselves there will still be a lot of dust when I am back tomorrow but I guess the idea is that it will have settled by then.

I just want to sleep in my own bed again rather than the couch here. I want my computer too. I wonder if the milk I just bought for coffee will still be any good by the time I get back. All these little things that make a life.

Another Paper Box

I’ve got a crayon box sitting on my desk. It had Crayola markers in it, 64 of them. One of them, garden green, has no colour and I’m going to send an email to Crayola about that. Maybe I will even get that done, off my to-do list, tonight.

I’m just looking at this box and thinking about the paper/ cardboard used to make this box which is now disposable. Thinking about all the years we had boxes of crayons, pencil crayons and pens and threw away boxes. Often they were kind of ripped up cause I did try to keep mine all tidy in their box as long as I could. But the box never could outlast a pencil case or metal crayon box (usually a cookie tin left over from Christmas).

Does it make anyone else feel kind of sad to think of the trees cut down to make packaging which we throw out soon after we bring the stuff home?

A crayon box isn’t big. One crayon box is just one crayon box. But, we bought a new bathtub for the renovations to add an apartment to the basement and that was a really big box, for one home, one family. It had to be strapped to the roof of a friend’s van to bring it here. The empty box had to be folded several times to fit into the trunk of the car. The recycling truck which picks up our cereal boxes, milk cartons and newspapers, would not take the bathtub box. The man on the truck explained that it would not fit on their truck. The box would take up too much space and they would not have enough room to load all the recyclables from the houses on their usual run. We would have to drive that box to the dump.

To the dump? That doesn’t sound like recycling.

So that isn’t what we did. I folded and semi-crushed that box until I could smoosh it into the trunk of the car. Then we drove it to the massive store (one of those huge parking lots with a row of massive chain stores to one side) where we had bought the bathtub. I dragged that box out of the car and put it into a handy shopping cart in the parking lot. I left it there. My small protest to too much packaging and the waste of too many trees.

This crayon box is still on my desk though. Still making me feel sad for the part of a tree it once was. Never to be a tree again. Was it worth it? To be cut down, pulverized, painted and folded and then stuffed with crayons only to be bought and then discarded? I don’t think so.

We need different packaging. Why can’t crayons be sold in a tin box which would last longer and not become dog earred and torn. A tin box could go to school and stay in a locker and then come home again. A tin box could last a kid from grade one to high school and beyond. The tin box could outlast the original crayons and end up holding pens and pencils when that kid starts their first job in some cubicle or something more interesting and unique. A tin box could be passed on to children of that child and then grandchildren. A tin box would only increase in value and be something treasured if it was kept by the family.

This cardboard box is never going to be any of those things. If I don’t take it to the blue box it will just be landfill, un-needed and unnecessary landfill. We have an overflow of landfill of this kind already.

So here is this one box. One box isn’t much. Like one tree in a forest, it’s just one and when it’s gone it makes a bit of room for saplings to reach up through the space and grab some sun for themselves. The problem is that it’s not just one tree or one box.

Think about all the packaging we take for granted, don’t even see it as we go through our day to day lives. There is such a ton of it. In a week you might be throwing away a whole tree. But, one tree isn’t much. Right?

Thursday Thirteen #5: Romantic List

Thursday Thirteen – A list about romantic notions. I’ve been listening to romantic crooning CDs for hours. Sometimes I do miss being married, part of a couple.

1. A soft song in my ear while we dance to the slow songs.

2. A tiny bouquet, as a surprise, on my desk.

3. A drawing of fantastical things like dragons, castles and queens. Made just for me.

4. A sexy wink and a grin when he catches me watching him do something manly like shaving, chopping wood, you get the idea.

5. One single really scrumptious and decadent chocolate on my pillow. (Note, not ice cream!)

6. A love poem, especially if it’s so awful it makes me laugh.

7. When I’m in the shower he steps in to scrub my back and then wash my hair.

8. In bed, he wraps his arm around me, only a little possessive and yet really nice and snuggly.

9. Holding hands while out walking outside in the dark of night.

10. Sneaking a kiss when holding the door open.

11. He knows all the words to My Funny Valentine.

12. He remembers something I told him a week ago even though it wasn’t vitally important.

13. Staying up all night, just talking about everything and anything.