Want To Be My Sub?

Do you know the difference between a sub and a slave?  I am do not want a live in 24/7 SLAVE, I do however expect my SUB to put me before anything/anyone.   Exceptions; family, job, health.  You are to run on MY schedule or not at all.

Why me?  What is it that draws you to someone you've never met?  What can you offer as a sub?  Are you fit?  Attractive?  Can you run up and down 3 flights of steps?  Will you serve with the possibility of no sexual gratification and be subject to my whims?  Do you want a friend as well as a mistress?

Are you a former master wanting to try out submission.  Are you a newbie looking for guidance?

I DO NOT ACCEPT NEWBIES! I AM NOT HERE TO TRAIN YOUR SORRY ASS.  You must have a min. 1 year service experience with a face photo (clothed from the waist down).

My Interests Outside of Kink:

• Movies; Comedy (romantic, historic, superhero, dramady, sci fi on occasion, action on occasion.)
• Karaoke: I have an awesome singing voice
• Dancing: Specifically any theme nights, 80's, goth, fetish, ect.
• Bars: I love local places
• Theater
• Dining out
• Hanging out on my ghetto balcony during the summer

If you'd like to get to know more just ask.

OLD LOVERS TEAM UP

(OR GOTH NIGHT PART II)

CONFESSION

I am a hopeless romantic.
I allow myself to get caught up in that euphoria that equals the time between waking and sleeping.
I can fall into someone's arms just as easy as they can fall into mine.
I live for kissing in a movie.
It turns me on to watch two people making out, touching, caressing each others body.
I sometimes close my eyes and imagine someone touching me in a similar way. The way someone's sent lingers on me when I've been close to them is like being lulled to sleep.
I revel in the memories that sent/sensation evoke.
I remember fondly my crushes (both past and present).
I smile at what was; what could be, and what could have been.
Romantic gestures turn me on as much as aggressive hair pulling.
Romanticism easily inspires me.

THE GIFT OF SUBMISSION PART II

Something in you clicks like a dull urge…Your hands move steadily down my back, raking your already torn nails through my unscarred flesh. Knowing full well how sensitive my back is, you don’t give me time to react- Your other hand is already at the base of my skull, running your wiry fingers through my tangled hair…Jerking my head back, the domm in you begins to surface and a wicked smile crosses your face as I gasp. I hadn’t expected your strength, nor the click to come so quickly. You knew just how to handle me. You had known it for sometime…Your fantasies melded with mine. Knowing full well how I longed to be taken by you, how much you needed to take me. Our eyes meet in silence…My eyes wide, my mouth wide open, unable to speak…“Let go of all the frustration. Take it out on me.” I pleaded in silence. My thighs were as wet as yours. Trembling on knees already bent beyond their limits, your lips came down like thunder over mine as you thrust yourself onto me, slamming me into the hard wooden floor. Thighs pinning me, and a wide eyed hunger in your face. The day no longer mattered…Only the night. You found renewed strength in my reactions; the arch of my back, the groans off my lips as you dug your tongue deeper down my body, my arms pinned against yours in a futile struggle…You enjoyed the power you had over me, yet you still wanted to taste me. The scented oils of Jasmine and coconut was intoxicating….The leather cuffs dyed a dark red, were right where I had left them, the black velvet lead a bonus. I went to touch you, but was denied. You would be the one to touch, I would be denied ten times over. I was not yet worthy….

More to come…

THE GIFT OF SUBMISSION PART I

Something I started tonight for a friend...Look for additional.

There are times when one likes to give up control. Times when control is freely given like a warm wave touching your entire body. Knowing the comfort you give to another by allowing yourself to yield....
I positioned myself just so for your return home....Kneeling in front of the door. My round plump ass resting gently on my heals, long manicured fingers resting on my lap, dark flowing hair hanging loosely over my freshly oiled form. With a bowed head and a serene aura about me...ready to give to you a rare gift...The gift of submission. It's not often I do it, and never to this extent. But something in you brings it out in me...Curiosity. Without asking, without knowledge- you walk through the door, scrubs rumpled, hair greasy, you nearly run into me, not expecting what awaited you. Your eyes widen as I slid my hands over your tight body. No words are exchanged as you tremble slightly under my touch. As I slid your pants down using only my palms, I notice the sweat being only part of what's making you wet...
More to come.

Birthday Story For Tucker

This is the story I Banged out in a few minutes for Tuckers Birthday:

A little birthday Story For you....

After a long day at the hospital, body sore, skin slightly sticky from the days sweat, you drag yourself home. The door feeling heavier than usual, you turn your back, and lean on it to pry it open. As you stumble back, something breaks your fall....Your instinct is to react, but are blind folded instead. As if in a trance, you let your guard down, too exhausted to put up a fight. You are led to the bathroom, stripped down (familiar hands running all over you, methodically cutting your scrubs at the seams), then led into the shower. The entire time, the blindfold remains. Hot soapy water runs over your head, trickling through your hair...over your hard, tense body. The woman next to you caresses your skin with her full mouth...Making sure to get a tast of every inch. Tho' oral is not usually her tasts, she can't help but run her tongue lightly over your invisible cock, giving it a quick peck and suck. Your hands fill with her voluptuous body, firm, round ass, curves just where they should be....she doesn't stop you now that you're clean. Running her long narrow fingers up the back of your neck just to the crown of your head, she takes a hand full of hair and pulls slightly yet firmly back until you can feel her breath on your neck and a breathless whisper in your ear. "Happy Birthday, darling" . With that, the blindfold is removed and the love making ensues....

More to cum...

Travel Fantasies...

Cyd sat in the airport patiently waiting for her flight. So many things had gone wrong that week; getting suspended from work, her new fuck buddy not having time for her, her crash pad in DC bailing less than twelve hours before her flight…To top it all off, ladies night was such a bore. She longed for the hotel she finally booked, if nothing so she could beat off with a strong drink. She silently ground her pussy into the crotch of her jeans as she sat in the terminal…Even the dam plane was late. She wouldn’t be getting into IAD until after nine. As usual when Cyd’s mind is left to it’s own devices, it wandered… It wasn’t hard for Cyd’s imagination to lead to sex…It usually did. She was much like a guy in that respect. Every other person she looked at she thought I’d hit that. With a wicked grin…Even on an airplane in casual conversation, she thought about sliding her hand along a man’s thigh, reaching under a woman’s skirt from behind, gently brushing her tits across someone’s lap as if reaching for something. Oh, she wanted to reach for something alright….She gave a small sigh and surveyed the boarding area every few minutes…looking up from her laptop. Oh, young man with the Army pack, you look nice and strong. You’re hair is too short to be pulled, but I bet you go down nice and easy in a public restroom….Your right hand could surely pin my arms above my head, while your left hand slowly unbuttons my blouse. My breath would quicken, and my nipples would harden as the air hit them. And oh how my gaze would wander down the neck of that partial unbuttoned plaid shirt wondering just how flimsy it was. Oh, Mr. Soldier Boy, breath a little harder on my neck before taking a chunk out of it with those delicious teeth of yours. Claw your way up my thighs, push my legs apart…Get lost in the moment while I loosen one of my hands to touch that beautifully sculpted chest underneath…As I run my long narrow fingers down to reach for your cock, I notice something different…Something…wonderful…Oh, you naughty trans man with the permeate hard on…You wonderful bastard. An evil giggle escapes my lips as I stroke your taint. I can feel you getting wet under the hard harness. Ah yes, the perfect combination, fuck and be fucked….

Cyd leaned back in the small cushioned seat just before take off. Her copy of “Kushiel’s Dart” nearly forgotten in her bag. The heat between her legs was on fire and throbbing fiercely by that point. Oh, to have worn a skirt with vibrating panties and a cock strapped to the inside…Cyd opened her eyes and looked over at the middle aged med student sitting beside her- She smiled. Short dark hair, deep brown eyes, a five o’clock shadow at nine pm and a polo shirt. Quite the picture of a North Eastern Med student. She casually struck up a conversation with him, knowing he had to make a connecting flight to New Orleans. “Business or pleasure?” She knew the answer. He was sooo not going for pleasure.

“Cardiology conference.” He smiled slightly as he bowed his head.

Cyd immediately pictured him hanging out in some seedy bar in the French Quarter, a single string of beads around his neck, bottled beer in hand. He would lean on the bar, looking around, bored. Had his comrades abandoned him? And oh, how she noticed he left his silver wedding band at the hotel. Cyd would be dressed in little more than a short gray skirt, maroon button up blouse (or should I say button down), black silk stockings and black stilettos. Her dark brown hair wild around her deep purple specs. Her sultry stare would penetrate him from the end of the bar. Stopping in mid survey of the room, he slowly stands….His cock twitching instinctively, her heat throbbing. They would both size the other up as he walked towards her…his cock growing harder with each step. The spell of the French Quarter was cast over both of them…the heat, sweat, and alcohol, created a heady perfume. The dark corner behind the bar created a perfect scene…they both knew it. When Cyd jumped off the bar stool, she made no effort to hide her exposed chest or pulled down her already too short skirt. They both kicked back a shot of bourbon, before heading to the far side of the bar. There was a small high table just against the wall. Cyd strolled along first, the intern following close behind…Just as easy as she had jumped down from the previous stool, she jumped up on the next one. This time, one more button came undone, revealing a very skimpy crimson bra. The intern, unable to control himself, immediately pinned her arms behind her back, a raw look of desire painted his face. Cyd’s wicked smile grew even wider as she felt her back slam against the wall. Pushing her legs apart, he thrust his bulging cock up against her heat. The years in med school had paid off, as he quickly ripped open her blouse and exposed her breasts…All the while with his back to the rest of the bar. As he bit his way up and down her neck, pulsating- Cyd managed to get her hands free. Cyd quickly grew bored of foreplay and demanded immediate satisfaction. In one smooth action, she loosened her arms, grabbing a fist full of hair with one hand, she thrust his head between her legs. “Let’s see how well you know the human body”. Not long after his decent, Cyd came in a burst, something that didn’t come easy to her. As the wave hit her, she wanted more…Time for the big easy. Cyd lifted the interns head, his gaze reaching hers- “Your turn..” His eyes went wide.

“Thank you, Mistress.” Was all that escaped his lips as he rose with his cock fully exposed. Condom in place, he lifted her off the stool (not an easy task for a curvy woman), slamming her against the wall once more, this time pounding into her with his seven inch thick cock. In a matter of moments she was cumming multiple times. Oh God the rush she got from being taken in a seedy bar….
When the plane landed she bid the intern goodbye, wondering what his wife looked like…She’d probably hit that too….

Restless Night...(Star Trek Deep Space Nine)

Angelina Croy-Vezah lay awake at night, restless. She was a killer, a self trained assassin. Her shape shifting abilities made her indispensable to her clients. No one ever knew who she was; she rarely took the same form for long. She was alone, and it suited her. Suited her needs; her chaotic up bringing, and her work. Her advanced psychic abilities enabled her to become the perfect interrogator. The mind could hide few things from her. She developed ways to trick the mind, no need for a halo program. It was lonely there. It was simple.

That night she lay awake with a certain longing for the one who defied her logic. The night she became too close, and let her guard down….
Hired by Starfleet Command to go undercover in the Academy; Angelina was to infiltrate an informations smuggling operation. There she met a promising medical student named Julian Bashir, who fancied himself a ladies man; just another part of the mission as far as she was concerned. She shook her head at the thought of seducing him, too easy. His compassion and sincerity soon won her over, however. For the first time Angelina was faced with new emotions, unfamiliar ones…fighting them at every turn, shutting a door to her emotions…It was not use. She had fallen in love with one who had nothing to hide…nothing he could change at least. He was a freak, a secret out cast, posing amongst normals, genetically altered as a child; just as she was. Love was not a complication she could afford. Ten years later, Angelina, assigned as a liaison to a space station on the outskirts of a little known galaxy, was shocked to come face to face with Julian Bashir. Julian had accepted the position of Chief Medical Officer for the Station. Julian didn’t recognize her. Of course he didn’t…it was her two greatest talents; shape shifting and memory alteration. Julian, however, never left Angelina’s memory…
Angelina lay awake, struggling with strange feelings resurfacing after so long... As the door chimed, she shape shifted into a long bright red silk kimono. No need to sleep in cloths in her profession. Her physic was slim, but toned, her light skin shown through the robe. Modesty was not part of her nature. “Enter.”
In the door way stood a rather shocked Julian Bashir. Words caught in mid air as he traced his way up Angelina’s milky white thigh, her ample cleavage just barely covered. After a moment, his voice was found. “Good evening, Miss Vezah.” His perfect British accent had not changed.

Angelina nodded, formality maintained. “Doctor; out late I see.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

She tried not to pry into in psyche. She didn’t want to intrude. ”And you came here? With a…a book you call it?”

He looked down realizing what he had in his hand-“Ah, yes, well…for some reason I thought you enjoyed ancient earth litterateur. “

She did…as Mirina…back at the academy. Carefully she took the book, and turned it over in her hands. The feelings she had worked so hard to stifle began to resurface. This time more gently. Finally, she looked up from her trance- “One moment, Doctor…” Stepping into a dark corner, she shape shifted into a dress identical to the one she had worn when they first met at the Academy. Julian unsure of what was going on began to speak, but stopped mid sentence, visually taken aback. “Is there something wrong Doctor?” She raised an eyebrow.

He stumbled-”No; you just-“

“Remind you of someone?”

Surprised, Julian questions “You know?”

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that.” In her profession, there were always old acquaintances who never knew they were. She could sense a longing from him. “If it makes you uncomfortable I can change-“

“No- That’s really not necessary.”

Turning back towards Julian, her curiosity was fueled by his lack of finesse. This was not the man she fell in love with. Her familiarity had obviously shaken his plans. Her demeanor changed towards him in an instant as she slipped her arm into his. “Doctor Bashir, Might I interest you in a walk?”

Julian was perplexed- “Didn’t you say I was out rather late?”

Her voice was like silk- “You said your self you couldn’t sleep; perhaps some…verbal stimulation; your quarters? That is, unless you object.”

Julian couldn’t believe his luck. The charismatic smile Angelina knew so well finally returned, he relaxed. “Alright.”

Walking to Julians' quarters made Angelina feel light, relaxed; comfortable for the first time in years. The book lay forgotten on the table as they left. Wine led to low lighting and an intimate conversation on Julians' sofa… “So I say to Quark- When I want your opinion, I’ll beat it out of you.” Her devious smile was infectious.

“It’s hard to believe Quark is actually afraid of you.”

Angelina moved close, almost in a whisper. - “It’s fairly easy…When you have him half way across the bar with a dagger to his lobe.”

Julian seemed to breathed his next words, he turned to face her- “I never knew liaisons could be so….intimidating.”

Keeping his gaze, Angelina studied the deep brown eyes she had spent a better part of six months staring into. They had changed over the years, and yet, stayed the same. “I wasn’t always a liaison.”

“Somehow, I had that feeling…”

Feeling his mind poking at the barrier she had set up in his mind all those years ago made her uneasy. Angelina moved quickly across the room in a vain attempt to put at least physical distance between them. “Why a space station in the middle of nowhere? It’s not like you had a lack of choices; second in your class and all.”

Julian looked out the window for a moment, lost. ”Adventure, challenge…”

Angelina gazed over at him for a moment. “Ah yes, those silly adventure halo novels…I remember.” She lost herself…She almost felt transported….

Julian looked towards Angelina suddenly. “Remember?”

Angelina quickly turned away, forming a memory veil…”- Hearing something about that…Around the station.” Angelina could not stop the memories from returning to Julian, but she could fade them, make them hazy. Her motions be came slow, she glided towards him.…“Tell me about this woman I remind you of…”

Julian felt the memory veil, tho’ he did not know what it was. It was like looking across a dim room through a thin curtain….He could just barely picture events ever so slightly-”She was a fantastic mystery I was determined to solve…We met while at Starfleet Academy. She was a Betazoid; training to be a security officer…We fell in love....were engaged to be married…”

Angelina’s voice was soft and low, a guide through the memory- “You never married?”

Julian’s expression changed slightly, still in a trance like state- “Sadly no…She perished in a halo suite accident, not long before our wedding.” Julian slowly came out of his trance. He looked at Angelina as if coming out of a fog. “This week would have been our tenth anniversary.”

Angelina produced a ring Quark tried to sell her earlier in the bar. She held it out to Julian. “You kept it after all these years.” Julian gently lifted the ring. As their skin brushed, he knew it was her. Angelina looked at him with a mix of longing, apathy, and desire…She was on the verge. “I’m sorry, Jules.” Julian knew who she was now…who she had been. He knew there was something familiar about her. Julian had waited without knowing…until this moment. Julian pulled Angelina into his arms and kissed her passionately. Lightly at first, brushing his lips across hers, licking them, then hard, penetrating her mouth with his tongue. Angelina immediately fell into his arms, pressing her body against his. A wave of desire washed over the two...a kind of desire neither had known in years....She was Julian’s Mirina in another form. It was her inside, Julian could feel her essence. Angelina’s skin was like butter through Julian’s fingers, his hands made their way down her back and across her ass…Arching her back as Julian dug his nails in, she clawed at him- his back was strong and muscular, just as Angelina had remembered. She ran her fingers through his dark, thick hair…As they fell into his bed, repressed sexual memories surfaced as if they had never been apart…The stiffing of his cock as she ran her pointed teeth along his collar bone. His name caught in her gasp as he made his way down between her thighs...Licking and biting.... Hours later, the two lay there; cloths strewn across the floor, the sheet barely covering their bodies. Marks only a lover should see... Angelina’s face, pensive; Julian grinned from ear to ear, almost beaming; basking in the after glow. Immediately, Angelina knew she had made a mistake. “I shouldn’t have done this.” The sheet which precariously across her waist taunted her.

Rolling over on his side, Julian began to lightly kiss her body, caressing her breasts and nipples along the way- “I thought you did this quite well.”

Pulling Julians' head up to meet her gaze, Angelina ran her fingers through Julian’s hair. Her sadness returned- “I should have stayed dead.”

He grabbed her wrists, gently pinning her to the bed. ”But you didn’t” His gaze was strong as he climbed on top of her...Kissing her hard. There was a strong argument in those words and that kiss.

Angelina was tempted, but knew what she had to do…”I have to alter your memory…change this night.”

Julians' confidence was fueled by the amazing sex he had just had with the woman he loved and thought had lost- “You don’t have to change a thing...” He resumed kissing her body...

Dam him She thought...She tried to resist him. “It will jeopardize my mission.”

“This-“ Pushing Angelina down for a deep, hard kiss. “Has nothing to do with your mission.”

For the first time in her life, Angelina decided to tell someone the truth. “It did ten years ago.”

Julian stopped suddenly- he was puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“You weren’t meant to.”

For the first time, it began to dawn on him. “Why were you at the Academy ten years ago?”

Angelina was ashamed. She looked away- “I can’t tell you that.” Angelina shapshifted into the woman Julian knew- Mirina. She turned to him. There was a sparkle in her pale green eyes, a warm glow.

Running his fingers through her deep magenta hair, Julian smiled- “I’d nearly forgotten how beautiful you are.”

Becoming lost in the moment, Angelina caressed Julians’ face. “Why did you have to be here?”

“Fate.”

“You still believe in that?”

“It brought you here didn’t it?” Julian could feel Angelina changing back into her true form. He wanted the truth about the Academy. “Mirina, Angelina, I don’t care who you really are, where you came from, or why you’re here. I just want to know, I need to know, why you were at the Academy, and why you staged your death.”

Angelina needed to tell Julian just as much as Julian needed to hear the truth. As she left the bed; Angelina shapeshifted into a short, dark blue silk kimono. Walking over to the window, she wrapped her arms around herself. She knew Julians' attitude would change when he found out the truth. She was preparing herself. “Starfleet hired me as a covert operative…” Angelina’s position never changed as she told Julian everything; the mission, her suspicions on his part, her deal with command to seal all records, recordings, and knowledge (with her help) of Mirina Vezah. “I explained to them my talent of memory alteration….”

As Julian lay on the bed, listening to her intently, he had mixed emotions. He felt like a pawn in a game. “Why did you come back to my quarters tonight?”

Angelina wanted to make sure Julian could sense the sincerity in her actions. She turned to face him-“You reawakened something in me tonight, Julian. Something I haven’t felt in a long time. For the first time in my life, I wanted know what it was like to love and be loved by someone els. I wanted connections to another being…You are the only one I’ve ever been able to trust- To love..” Angelina turned suddenly. “I’ll understand if you want me to leave.”

Julian threw a robe on, in an instant he wrapped his arms around her…”You saw me fighting with Jake earlier…You didn’t want to see me in pain.”

As Angelina swiveled in his arms, she caught his neck. She emitted a low growl. “Dam you…Bloody Bastard.” She continued to swoop around, bringing Julian on top of her…There, passionate kissing lead to….
She was everything Julian wanted in a woman; excitement, intrigue, danger…And passionate, bone crushing sex…

A little background on this short piece...As a junior in High School I was inspired to write a story for (Star Trek) Deep Space Nine. In it, I created a character. (See story) Over the years, the story has taken many incarnations (play, manuscript, short stories, paintings). I wrote this particular incarnation aprox. 2years ago). I'm not going to bog you down with character history. If interested, you can find character history on Julian Bashir online. For Angelina, ask me)

Today I added and, yet again, did some rewriting Comments are always welcome. See the photos on my profile I have to accompany it.

Let Me Lay Some Knowledge On You

I am not your internet slut-

I am not your internet whore-

I am no longer that voice on the other end heavy and cumming acting like you're the man when secretly I'm rolling my eyes-

I don't get paid enough-

I do love sex-

And sex loves me-

But to ask me What are you gonna do to me for beads? !

PULEZE!

You're picture ain't that cute-

And I'm sure your cock ain't that strong-

Tell me-

Do you think you're gonna get any of this with that attitude?

Do not mistake my open sexuality for your private play thing-

I would turn your girl in a heart beat-

And leave you in the closet...

Nuff said.

This completes Tattooed Sailors first attempt at slam poetry

FEBRUARY 15-17TH 2013

PROVIDENCE RI

WINTER FETISH FLEA

HOSTED BY NELA

New to the scene?  Wondering where to pick up; bondage gear, paddle, floggers and other wonderful toys?  Want more information on everything thing from; fisting to bdsm 101, to domme/sub/switches (who we are and why we're here), want to learn how to use your new toys safely?  That and much more can be found here.  Come and let your kink flag fly for an entire weekend.

http://nelaonline.org/cmsms/index.?page=fff

For more information.

OR you can find it on
 Fetish Fair Fleamarket #40 (Winter 2013)

Old Lovers Team Up

Reemerging from my slumber I found myself back up on stage swaying and grinding to my lover- the beat. The place was familiar, like coming home. Lights always seem to find their way to my tightly corseted figure, long dark locks peppered with premature grey, dancing off of the jeweled choker nestled serenely in the cleft of my cleavage. As I let the rhythm carry me away, visions of days gone by flashed through my mind- The first night Ian and I came there as friends, and left as lovers. Intoxicated by the night. As hard as I tried to keep our friendship together, Ian was too afraid of what others thought. Fearing he would be tagged as dangerous and unsafe by association. Tho' the betrayal cut me to the core, I came to understand he was a week man, damaged like an abused kitten. I made peace with it- I had to in order to save my own sanity. What was left of it. And so every time I walked through those red and black doors, I shed the lustful, happy memory of nights gone by. His arms around my waist on the dance floor; his gin soaked breath wet behind my ear, and his cock press hard against my ample thigh. Yes, those were golden nights for us- when Ian let loose his animalistic side....But that night, that night it all remained a fond memory. My entrance into the club scene an ether world....Out of the corner of my eye I could have sworn I saw Ian with his short blonde hair and glasses, watching me with folded arms across his chest, remembering what I brought out in him....Club lights play strange tricks on a girl.... It wasn't long before even the stage was crowded with dancers, all vying for a spot up front. Strange hands groped me from all directions. Men, women ten years or more my juniors trying to pull me close...The music was deafening, the lights blinding...Just as I had started pushing my way out of the crowd, a bonny hand clamped tight onto my wrist, pulling me down to and unknown space beside the stage. The lights disappeared as one hand closed tightly around my throat, the other one yanking my hair back until I gazed up at a second pair of eyes- Nick. One of the other men I totally submitted to yet also left me. Nick's eyes twinkled as I had never seen them before. I was being pushed back against Nick as the pounding music reached the wall behind him. After all this time, I could still read his thoughts. *"Dirty little fuck toy"*

In my mind I replied. *"Yes master."*

My nipples became hard at the word Master. I could feel Nick's long hard cock against my ass as he lifted the back of my skirt....My hair still firmly in his grasp my head suddenly jerked to the left, my neck exposed. Strong teeth clamped hard and strong onto my muscles....I was too wet and shocked at the same time...Somehow the first set of hands snaked their way down into my corset, liberating my right breasts, all the while stroking and pinching my nipple...I moaned as a gin soaked mouth made it's way around the areola, raking his teeth across my nipples. "Ian you fuckin' bastard." was all I could think of as he liberated the other one, pinching and raking his nail over the other nipple....My body throbbed in places I had forgotten existed. Both Nick and Ian already had their cocks out as I was somehow lifted onto Nick's cock being impaled by his rock hard rod. I screamed louder than I had in years. No one could hear me of the boom of the music. Instead of nick moving in and out, my legs were spread and Ian's cock thrust into my throbbing pussy pushing me back onto Nick's cock. the rest was a white hot blur...Half of me wanting to be their degraded little fuck toy, the other half wanting to bend Ian over and show him what a pussy HE WAS....But my hands were pinned and both of their voices took me to a place I had long forgotten. I was sore for a week after...Every day finding new bruises, bites and scratches...

Dear Cowards Of Collarme:

I've gotten two unsavory messages the past few weeks.  One was from a "male submissive" with no real photo on his profile.  His message "Fat fuck."

The next one (Just a few mins ago), a "male dominate".  Also no pic on his profile (not that I bothered to look).  His message was along the lines of "You fat ass fuck, you need to get up and look for a fucking job.  If you got up off your fat ass and looked for a job..."

*Click, delete button*

I've been curvy since I hit puberty at 9.  I am quite happy with my curves (as are most people).  With my well defined rolls, bodacious bodice, and hips that would make Mae West proud.  (And a swagger and sway that goes with it.)  I am healthy and active.  It's not my fault you have to put other people down (anonymously) to make your self feel better.  Or is it you think I'm into humiliation play from people I don't know/trust? 

PART TIME SUBMISSIVE NEEDED

FACE PHOTO REQUIRED WITH RESPONSE

YOU ARE:

Male/Female 18-45, Fit (Apartment is at the top of a three story walk up), MUST HAVE OWN TRANSPORTATION, any orientation, organized, switches welcomed, service oriented, any height, dress code negotiable, have own cleaning supplies (also negotiable.), willing to meet in person at place of MY choosing, ability to accept punishment, MUST BE CLEAN.   

One day every 2 weeks minimum.  Domestic Duties include the following. 

• Cleaning; Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen.  
• Laundry
• Cooking on occasion
  
  

NOTE TO DOMM'S

Remember I am not primarily a sub.  That part of me takes time to come out.  That means you must earn my submission by first getting to know me as an equal.  From there a relationship must grow.  Second messages about what you would have me do for you do not fly.  My submission is not casual.  I must know and trust you out side of the kink realm first before I would even consider submitting to you.  Submitting is like a vacation for me. (Part of the reason I switch.)  In order for me to allow you do take control I must trust you and that takes time.

I am so sick of meeting "submissives" who are no more than self serving assholes.

I will do what you want.  You're gonna beat me right?  I'm gonna get laid right?  

Quick Note About Me & What DOES Interest Me

• Messages with a face photo
• Profiles filled out
• Smart people
• Funny people
• Men & women 25-45 (women may be over 45)
• Men: Subs or Switches
• Women: Switches, subs, dommes
• Spell check & grammar check (I am not here to interpret   your message.
• Those who realize I am not a 24/7 domme, switch, or sub.
• Bold people
• People who are interested in; friendship, relationships, and regular play.
• People who respect that I have a mentor.
• Masculine men who do not cross dress.  (While I do admire cross dressers, it's just not my thing and I'm not interested in dommeing/topping them.) 
• People who want more than casual play.
• Men who are fit.
• Women who have curves.  

Why I Am A Domme

As I spend more and more time with MistressCarnal, I am reminded of why I became a domme.  It's not just about power and control.  I am a domme because I deserve to be worshiped, adored and catered to more than the average woman.  

More to come.

GOTH NIGHT 

As Told By The Lady Cyd

Ian was; skinny, white, a bit geeky with deep blue eyes you could loose yourself in. You’d never know from the way he dressed or his gentle face the hard body hidden underneath. I drew in a breath whenever I saw his bare chest, rippled with just enough muscle and a hint of man hair. My thighs burned when I thought of his rock hard cock. It was one of the few times a fellatio fantasy excited me….My lips wrapped around the tip, tongue sliding around the middle. My head bobbing up and down in a furious pace as I sucked, his hand pulling at my hair, then thrusting my head back down my mouth filling with him. The woman in me quivered, enjoying the wet heat between my thighs.

The evening began innocently enough, Goth night at a local club. Ian wined a bit about not being Goth enough. “Suck it up.” I said as I applied the dark blue eyeliner to his lips and cheek. It would do for now. After applying my makeup and doing my hair, I whipped around to see Ian’s eyes widen…He had never seen me with my hair down. It was rather exciting as I saw the muscle in his neck twitch…My outfit was simple; black skirt, black corset with gold/red inlay and a black bra. Tattoos, tits and one red and black stripped stocking did the rest. The black and white polka dot undies were the only thing out of place. It was recon for him, until he could find suitable Goth cloths. Whatever that means.

We entered the club and headed straight for the bar. I ordered two drinks, handed one to Ian and told him to drink. He sniffed and asked what it was. “Just drink.” I ordered. I knew he needed the liquid courage more than I. Ian couldn't stop steeling glances at my size H tits. I could see his hand twitch every time he put it on the bar. Eger to slide his it in and around the heaving mounds of flesh.

Unable to keep my hands off him, I quickly slid my hand around his waist and up his shirt. My right hand dug into his waist until he was on his toes. His smile betrayed the charge that went through him. “You’re the domme tonight.“He said as his smiled turned devious. I shot him an amusing glance. I was the domme most nights. Tonight, however, I was his guide. After a few drinks I lead him around a place I had never been, yet flowed through as if it were second skin. Whenever I grabbed his; neck, side, back, he’d mock me…Telling me he thought I were going to do it hard. Digging my nails in deeper until that devilish smile returned. He knew just how to get what he wanted. After a few more drinks, we headed to the dance floor. Oh, it had been years since I had been to a Goth club. The music filled my mind, the pounding rhythm of unnamed melodies took hold of my body. I kept a close eye on Ian as he swayed, a bit awkward. Digging my nails into his bicep, I quickly instructed him on dancing to the pounding music. All he really needed to do was stomp. As he took to it, I immediately began to loose myself in the music; step, stomp, step, stomp, swaying my hips, rotating my shoulders, loosing my arms to an unnamed rhythm. Every so often I grabbed Ian’s shoulder for balance….In an instant, Ian’s hand was around my waist, leg between mine and his body pressed to mine. Our bodies began moving together. The man never ceases to amaze me. The fucker could dance. Moving my long narrow fingers up and down his arms, the slightly baggy shirt, hiding his muscles…But I knew they were there. The thought created a heady feeling throughout my body. I needed another drink. As I told Ian he needed to loosen up more often, his hands wandered from my waist slowly up my chest, resting on my neck. His hand was inches above my cleavage and I wanted him desperately to move it down.

Poor Ian...So full of surprises, yet so down on himself. I thought he was amazing…and the drink let me say so. Of course he didn’t believe me. Grabbing him by the front of the shirt, pulling him close…I smashed my lips into his, my tongue mixing with his as he surrendered his mouth to me. It didn't take much to convince him after that.

We returned to the dance floor where people of all; shapes, sizes, kinks and dress were lost in a swirl of lights and sound. I turned around as my body moved…Ian’s hand slid around my waist once again, this time moving his long narrow hands up and down my bare flesh as if it were silk. God, I was hot for this man. Where the hell was all this coming from was all I thought as he nuzzled my shoulder from behind. His tongue traced the length of my neck, as he reached my shoulder once more and took a chunk, my thoughts went red. Who knew I was a masochist? The night was full of surprises.

Eventually, the alcohol had taken it’s toll, and it was time to head back to his place where the two of us would be too smashed to do any damage…Oh, how drink gives the desire and numbs all that is given to us.

Being the more experienced of the two, I took his keys, forgetting to put my shirt back on as we left the club. I didn’t mind the glances or whispers from the few passersby as we walked to the garage. I rather liked the attention. Ian and I could barely keep our hands off each other in the short walk. At one point, he even dragged me over to a dark corner of a building, pinning me against the wall. I felt the cold concrete imprint itself on my bare back as Ian pinned my arms above my head. I could feel is cock grind into me, his nails making a sharp trail down my arms. The low growl he emitted was something I had never heard from him. I gasped at his animal nature. I couldn't see where his hands went since he told me to close my eyes. Something in me wanted to obey him, surrender to him. I parted my legs as he slid his hand between my thighs…”You wore those panties for me didn’t you, you fuckin’ slut?”

For the first time, I went submissive under someone’s touch. A voice I didn’t know I had, simply wimppered and breathed "Yes, Ian…Just for you.”

His hands were just as skilled as his cock…Teasing my pussy. His low growl turned a seething, commanding voice. “You’d like it if I took you right against this building, wouldn’t you?” I exhaled again, feeling the corset tight around my body, struggling against his grip. I couldn't deny I wanted him to do just that. Releasing me from his grip, he shoved me against the wall once again, parting my thighs with his leg, grinding his knee against my heat. His kisses were, deep, hot, and wet…Like the fucking I wanted to receive from him. “You’re just too fuckin’ eager.” At that he let me go.

Little fucker….

When we got back to his place, we were indeed too smashed to do anything. The days heat was trapped in his room, so we both stripped down to nothing, and fell onto his bed. The evenings events were all but forgotten as we lay next to each other, in drunken exhaustion, the small fan blowing cool air over our slightly sticky bodies. As I do when I sleep next to someone, I began snuggling Ian. My long narrow fingers feeling over every part of his body. At one point, Ian turned over, saying he didn’t trust me. I simply shrugged and said “okay.”And turned away. We both knew his cock wouldn't work…At least we didn't think it would.

All of a sudden, Ian turned over, as did I. Drawing me to him, I opened my whiskey soaked eyes, to see a playful gleam in his. “Hello.” was all he said.

I responded with a lazy. “Hay there.” As I ran my hands over his body, I noticed his cock getting hard. “Really?” Was all I could muster after that. He pulled me even closer, loosening my lips with that wonderful tongue of his. In a mere instant, he transformed again into wonderful, crazy domm mode.

Needless to say, the following day produced some wonderful after effects. My nipples were sore, my pussy throbbed, my jaw a bit stiff, and my scalp felt like it had been put on a stretcher. I felt it for days after. Work was pure torture as the slightest touch of clothing triggered a pulsating memory of that night.

ROMANTIC SAILOR

I am a hopeless romantic.
I allow myself to get caught up in that euphoria that equals the time between waking and sleeping.
I can fall into someone's arms just as easy as they can fall into mine.
I live for kissing in a movie.
It turns me on to watch two people making out, touching, caressing each others body.
I sometimes close my eyes and imagine someone touching me in a similar way. The way someone's sent lingers on me when I've been close to them is like being lulled to sleep.
I revel in the memories that sent/sensation evoke.
I remember fondly my crushes (both past and present).
I smile at what was; what could be, and what could have been.
Romantic gestures turn me on as much as aggressive hair pulling.
Romanticism easily inspires me.

The Domme is a Switch Hitter....

The arch of her back as I run my steel claws across her flesh,

The sensation I feel as I'm bound with rope,

The look of awe as I stand over him with a gleam in my eye,

My surprise as the spark revels a hidden aggression,

The feel of power as she clenches over my hand, brests perk and taunt,

My frustration as I am teased to near climax,

The desire we feel as we claw at each other;
Biting, pulling, pinning down...

Surprises loom around every corner as we berate the other, name call, scream, and growl

Ever a struggle,

Ever such fun.

THE GIFT OF SUBMISSION PART II

Something in you clicks like a dull urge…Your hands move steadily down my back, raking your already torn nails through my unscarred flesh. Knowing full well how sensitive my back is, you don’t give me time to react- Your other hand is already at the base of my skull, running your wiry fingers through my tangled hair…Jerking my head back, the domm in you begins to surface and a wicked smile crosses your face as I gasp. I hadn’t expected your strength, nor the click to come so quickly. You knew just how to handle me. You had known it for sometime…Your fantasies melded with mine. Knowing full well how I longed to be taken by you, how much you needed to take me. Our eyes meet in silence…My eyes wide, my mouth wide open, unable to speak…“Let go of all the frustration. Take it out on me.” I pleaded in silence. My thighs were as wet as yours. Trembling on knees already bent beyond their limits, your lips came down like thunder over mine as you thrust yourself onto me, slamming me into the hard wooden floor. Thighs pinning me, and a wide eyed hunger in your face. The day no longer mattered…Only the night. You found renewed strength in my reactions; the arch of my back, the groans off my lips as you dug your tongue deeper down my body, my arms pinned against yours in a futile struggle…You enjoyed the power you had over me, yet you still wanted to taste me. The scented oils of Jasmine and coconut was intoxicating….The leather cuffs dyed a dark red, were right where I had left them, the black velvet lead a bonus. I went to touch you, but was denied. You would be the one to touch, I would be denied ten times over. I was not yet worthy….

More to come…

RANDOM ACTS OF POETRY

The saga continues

5th of June 2011

How strange driving at night illuminates nearly forgotten memories-

High above street lamps create sparks-

Glimpses in to the past-

A dark club-

Night after night-

A boy with raven hair, and pale skin-

With a trunk full of demons-

And a closet full of skeletons-

Oh those dark eyes-

Hiding so much-

I wanted to know more-

Stirring something new-

Curiosity I hadn‘t known before-

Darkness hides many things-

Betrayal, trust,-

Did it also hide lust?

Long ago you denied me a kiss-

A silly kiss-

You put a spell on me you never knew-

Pitting a crush unfulfilled-

Tho’ years have gone by-

My crush locked away-

Every so often a night comes along when memory is a bit more clear than the day before-

A few weeks ago it all came flooding back-

The overalls and cap-

The devious shy smile that drew me in-

Once again I felt the flush of my first trans crush-

You know who you are-

And oh, how the thought of you still makes me burn-

For now my mind is older-

Wiser-

And oh so worldly-

Then I wouldn’t know what to do with you-

Today is not the same-

I hold no preconceived notions-

No expectations-

I’ll let my mind wander-

Trip down memory lane-

Wearing rose colored glasses on what I would do to you today.

THE GIFT OF SUBMISSION PART I

Something I started tonight for a friend...Look for additional.

There are times when one likes to give up control. Times when control is freely given like a warm wave touching your entire body. Knowing the comfort you give to another by allowing yourself to yield....
I positioned myself just so for your return home....Kneeling in front of the door. My round plump ass resting gently on my heals, long manicured fingers resting on my lap, dark flowing hair hanging loosely over my freshly oiled form. With a bowed head and a serene aura about me...ready to give to you a rare gift...The gift of submission. It's not often I do it, and never to this extent. But something in you brings it out in me...Curiosity. Without asking, without knowledge- you walk through the door, scrubs rumpled, hair greasy, you nearly run into me, not expecting what awaited you. Your eyes widen as I slid my hands over your tight body. No words are exchanged as you tremble slightly under my touch. As I slid your pants down using only my palms, I notice the sweat being only part of what's making you wet...
More to come.

A Birthday Story For Tucker

This is the story I Banged out in a few minutes for Tuckers Birthday:

A little birthday Story For you....

After a long day at the hospital, body sore, skin slightly sticky from the days sweat, you drag yourself home. The door feeling heavier than usual, you turn your back, and lean on it to pry it open. As you stumble back, something breaks your fall....Your instinct is to react, but are blind folded instead. As if in a trance, you let your guard down, too exhausted to put up a fight. You are led to the bathroom, stripped down (familiar hands running all over you, methodically cutting your scrubs at the seams), then led into the shower. The entire time, the blindfold remains. Hot soapy water runs over your head, trickling through your hair...over your hard, tense body. The woman next to you caresses your skin with her full mouth...Making sure to get a tast of every inch. Tho' oral is not usually her tasts, she can't help but run her tongue lightly over your invisible cock, giving it a quick peck and suck. Your hands fill with her voluptuous body, firm, round ass, curves just where they should be....she doesn't stop you now that you're clean. Running her long narrow fingers up the back of your neck just to the crown of your head, she takes a hand full of hair and pulls slightly yet firmly back until you can feel her breath on your neck and a breathless whisper in your ear. "Happy Birthday, darling" . With that, the blindfold is removed and the love making ensues....

More to cum...

Restless Night...

(Science Fiction)

Inspired by "Star Trek Deep Space Nine".

Angelina Croy-Vezah lay awake at night, restless. She was a killer, a self trained assassin. Her shape shifting abilities made her indispensable to her clients. No one ever knew who she was; she rarely took the same form for long. She was alone, and it suited her. Suited her needs; her chaotic up bringing, and her work. Her advanced psychic abilities enabled her to become the perfect interrogator. The mind could hide few things from her. She developed ways to trick the mind, no need for a halo program. It was lonely there. It was simple.

That night she lay awake with a certain longing for the one who defied her logic. The night she became too close, and let her guard down….
Hired by Starfleet Command to go undercover in the Academy; Angelina was to infiltrate an informations smuggling operation. There she met a promising medical student named Julian Bashir, who fancied himself a ladies man; just another part of the mission as far as she was concerned. She shook her head at the thought of seducing him, too easy. His compassion and sincerity soon won her over, however. For the first time Angelina was faced with new emotions, unfamiliar ones…fighting them at every turn, shutting a door to her emotions…It was not use. She had fallen in love with one who had nothing to hide…nothing he could change at least. He was a freak, a secret out cast, posing amongst normals, genetically altered as a child; just as she was. Love was not a complication she could afford. Ten years later, Angelina, assigned as a liaison to a space station on the outskirts of a little known galaxy, was shocked to come face to face with Julian Bashir. Julian had accepted the position of Chief Medical Officer for the Station. Julian didn’t recognize her. Of course he didn’t…it was her two greatest talents; shape shifting and memory alteration. Julian, however, never left Angelina’s memory…
Angelina lay awake, struggling with strange feelings resurfacing after so long... As the door chimed, she shape shifted into a long bright red silk kimono. No need to sleep in cloths in her profession. Her physic was slim, but toned, her light skin shown through the robe. Modesty was not part of her nature.“Enter.”

In the door way stood a rather shocked Julian Bashir. Words caught in mid air as he traced his way up Angelina’s milky white thigh, her ample cleavage just barely covered. After a moment, his voice was found. “Good evening, Miss Vezah.” His perfect British accent had not changed.

Angelina nodded, formality maintained. “Doctor; out late I see.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

She tried not to pry into in psyche. She didn’t want to intrude. ”And you came here? With a…a book you call it?”

He looked down realizing what he had in his hand-“Ah, yes, well…for some reason I thought you enjoyed ancient earth litterateur. “

She did…as Mirina…back at the academy. Carefully she took the book, and turned it over in her hands. The feelings she had worked so hard to stifle began to resurface. This time more gently. Finally, she looked up from her trance-“One moment, Doctor…” Stepping into a dark corner, she shape shifted into a dress identical to the one she had worn when they first met at the Academy. Julian unsure of what was going on began to speak, but stopped mid sentence, visually taken aback. “Is there something wrong Doctor?” She raised an eyebrow.

He stumbled-”No; you just-“

“Remind you of someone?”

Surprised, Julian questions “You know?”

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that.” In her profession, there were always old acquaintances who never knew they were. She could sense a longing from him. “If it makes you uncomfortable I can change-“

“No- That’s really not necessary.”

Turning back towards Julian, her curiosity was fueled by his lack of finesse. This was not the man she fell in love with. Her familiarity had obviously shaken his plans. Her demeanor changed towards him in an instant as she slipped her arm into his. “Doctor Bashir, Might I interest you in a walk?”

Julian was perplexed- “Didn’t you say I was out rather late?”

Her voice was like silk- “You said your self you couldn’t sleep; perhaps some…verbal stimulation; your quarters? That is, unless you object.”

Julian couldn’t believe his luck. The charismatic smile Angelina knew so well finally returned, he relaxed. “Alright.”

Walking to Julians' quarters made Angelina feel light, relaxed; comfortable for the first time in years. The book lay forgotten on the table as they left. Wine led to low lighting and an intimate conversation on Julians' sofa… “So I say to Quark- When I want your opinion, I’ll beat it out of you.” Her devious smile was infectious.

“It’s hard to believe Quark is actually afraid of you.”

Angelina moved close, almost in a whisper. - “It’s fairly easy…When you have him half way across the bar with a dagger to his lobe.”

Julian seemed to breathed his next words, he turned to face her- “I never knew liaisons could be so….intimidating.”

Keeping his gaze, Angelina studied the deep brown eyes she had spent a better part of six months staring into. They had changed over the years, and yet, stayed the same. “I wasn’t always a liaison.”

“Somehow, I had that feeling…”

Feeling his mind poking at the barrier she had set up in his mind all those years ago made her uneasy. Angelina moved quickly across the room in a vain attempt to put at least physical distance between them. “Why a space station in the middle of nowhere? It’s not like you had a lack of choices; second in your class and all.”

Julian looked out the window for a moment, lost. ”Adventure, challenge…”

Angelina gazed over at him for a moment. “Ah yes, those silly adventure halo novels…I remember.” She lost herself…She almost felt transported….

Julian looked towards Angelina suddenly. “Remember?”

Angelina quickly turned away, forming a memory veil…”- Hearing something about that…Around the station.” Angelina could not stop the memories from returning to Julian, but she could fade them, make them hazy. Her motions be came slow, she glided towards him.…“Tell me about this woman I remind you of…”

Julian felt the memory veil, tho’ he did not know what it was. It was like looking across a dim room through a thin curtain….He could just barely picture events ever so slightly-”She was a fantastic mystery I was determined to solve…We met while at Starfleet Academy. She was a Betazoid; training to be a security officer…We fell in love....were engaged to be married…”

Angelina’s voice was soft and low, a guide through the memory- “You never married?”

Julian’s expression changed slightly, still in a trance like state- “Sadly no…She perished in a halo suite accident, not long before our wedding.”Julian slowly came out of his trance. He looked at Angelina as if coming out of a fog. “This week would have been our tenth anniversary.”

Angelina produced a ring Quark tried to sell her earlier in the bar. She held it out to Julian. “You kept it after all these years.” Julian gently lifted the ring. As their skin brushed, he knew it was her. Angelina looked at him with a mix of longing, apathy, and desire…She was on the verge. “I’m sorry, Jules.”Julian knew who she was now…who she had been. He knew there was something familiar about her. Julian had waited without knowing…until this moment. Julian pulled Angelina into his arms and kissed her passionately. Lightly at first, brushing his lips across hers, licking them, then hard, penetrating her mouth with his tongue. Angelina immediately fell into his arms, pressing her body against his. A wave of desire washed over the two...a kind of desire neither had known in years....She was Julian’s Mirina in another form. It was her inside, Julian could feel her essence. Angelina’s skin was like butter through Julian’s fingers, his hands made their way down her back and across her ass…Arching her back as Julian dug his nails in, she clawed at him- his back was strong and muscular, just as Angelina had remembered. She ran her fingers through his dark, thick hair…As they fell into his bed, repressed sexual memories surfaced as if they had never been apart…The stiffing of his cock as she ran her pointed teeth along his collar bone. His name caught in her gasp as he made his way down between her thighs...Licking and biting.... Hours later, the two lay there; cloths strewn across the floor, the sheet barely covering their bodies. Marks only a lover should see... Angelina’s face, pensive; Julian grinned from ear to ear, almost beaming; basking in the after glow. Immediately, Angelina knew she had made a mistake. “I shouldn’t have done this.” The sheet which precariously across her waist taunted her.

Rolling over on his side, Julian began to lightly kiss her body, caressing her breasts and nipples along the way- “I thought you did this quite well.”

Pulling Julians' head up to meet her gaze, Angelina ran her fingers through Julian’s hair. Her sadness returned- “I should have stayed dead.”

He grabbed her wrists, gently pinning her to the bed. ”But you didn’t” His gaze was strong as he climbed on top of her...Kissing her hard. There was a strong argument in those words and that kiss.

Angelina was tempted, but knew what she had to do…”I have to alter your memory…change this night.”

Julians' confidence was fueled by the amazing sex he had just had with the woman he loved and thought had lost- “You don’t have to change a thing...” He resumed kissing her body...

Dam him She thought...She tried to resist him. “It will jeopardize my mission.”

“This-“ Pushing Angelina down for a deep, hard kiss. “Has nothing to do with your mission.”

For the first time in her life, Angelina decided to tell someone the truth. “It did ten years ago.”

Julian stopped suddenly- he was puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“You weren’t meant to.”

For the first time, it began to dawn on him. “Why were you at the Academy ten years ago?”

Angelina was ashamed. She looked away- “I can’t tell you that.” Angelina shapshifted into the woman Julian knew- Mirina. She turned to him. There was a sparkle in her pale green eyes, a warm glow.

Running his fingers through her deep magenta hair, Julian smiled- “I’d nearly forgotten how beautiful you are.”

Becoming lost in the moment, Angelina caressed Julians’ face. “Why did you have to be here?”

“Fate.”

“You still believe in that?”

“It brought you here didn’t it?” Julian could feel Angelina changing back into her true form. He wanted the truth about the Academy. “Mirina, Angelina, I don’t care who you really are, where you came from, or why you’re here. I just want to know, I need to know, why you were at the Academy, and why you staged your death.”

Angelina needed to tell Julian just as much as Julian needed to hear the truth. As she left the bed; Angelina shapeshifted into a short, dark blue silk kimono. Walking over to the window, she wrapped her arms around herself. She knew Julians' attitude would change when he found out the truth. She was preparing herself. “Starfleet hired me as a covert operative…” Angelina’s position never changed as she told Julian everything; the mission, her suspicions on his part, her deal with command to seal all records, recordings, and knowledge (with her help) of Mirina Vezah. “I explained to them my talent of memory alteration….”

As Julian lay on the bed, listening to her intently, he had mixed emotions. He felt like a pawn in a game. “Why did you come back to my quarters tonight?”

Angelina wanted to make sure Julian could sense the sincerity in her actions. She turned to face him-“You reawakened something in me tonight, Julian. Something I haven’t felt in a long time. For the first time in my life, I wanted know what it was like to love and be loved by someone els. I wanted connections to another being…You are the only one I’ve ever been able to trust- To love..” Angelina turned suddenly. “I’ll understand if you want me to leave.”

Julian threw a robe on, in an instant he wrapped his arms around her…”You saw me fighting with Jake earlier…You didn’t want to see me in pain.”

As Angelina swiveled in his arms, she caught his neck. She emitted a low growl. “Dam you…Bloody Bastard.” She continued to swoop around, bringing Julian on top of her…There, passionate kissing lead to….
She was everything Julian wanted in a woman; excitement, intrigue, danger…And passionate, bone crushing sex…

A little background on this short piece...As a junior in High School I was inspired to write a story for (Star Trek) Deep Space Nine. In it, I created a character. (See story) Over the years, the story has taken many incarnations (play, manuscript, short stories, paintings). I wrote this particular incarnation aprox. 2years ago). I'm not going to bog you down with character history. If interested, you can find character history on Julian Bashir online. For Angelina, ask me)

Today I added and, yet again, did some rewriting

 Comments are always welcome. See the photos on my profile I have to accompany it.

Travel Fantasies...

Cyd sat in the airport patiently waiting for her flight. So many things had gone wrong that week; getting suspended from work, her new fuck buddy not having time for her, her crash pad in DC bailing less than twelve hours before her flight…To top it all off, ladies night was such a bore. She longed for the hotel she finally booked, if nothing so she could beat off with a strong drink. She silently ground her pussy into the crotch of her jeans as she sat in the terminal…Even the dam plane was late. She wouldn’t be getting into IAD until after nine. As usual when Cyd’s mind is left to it’s own devices, it wandered… It wasn’t hard for Cyd’s imagination to lead to sex…It usually did. She was much like a guy in that respect. Every other person she looked at she thoughtI’d hit that. With a wicked grin…Even on an airplane in casual conversation, she thought about sliding her hand along a man’s thigh, reaching under a woman’s skirt from behind, gently brushing her tits across someone’s lap as if reaching for something. Oh, she wanted to reach for something alright….She gave a small sigh and surveyed the boarding area every few minutes…looking up from her laptop. Oh, young man with the Army pack, you look nice and strong. You’re hair is too short to be pulled, but I bet you go down nice and easy in a public restroom….Your right hand could surely pin my arms above my head, while your left hand slowly unbuttons my blouse. My breath would quicken, and my nipples would harden as the air hit them. And oh how my gaze would wander down the neck of that partial unbuttoned plaid shirt wondering just how flimsy it was. Oh, Mr. Soldier Boy, breath a little harder on my neck before taking a chunk out of it with those delicious teeth of yours. Claw your way up my thighs, push my legs apart…Get lost in the moment while I loosen one of my hands to touch that beautifully sculpted chest underneath…As I run my long narrow fingers down to reach for your cock, I notice something different…Something…wonderful…Oh, you naughty trans man with the permeate hard on…You wonderful bastard. An evil giggle escapes my lips as I stroke your taint. I can feel you getting wet under the hard harness. Ah yes, the perfect combination, fuck and be fucked….

Cyd leaned back in the small cushioned seat just before take off. Her copy of “Kushiel’s Dart” nearly forgotten in her bag. The heat between her legs was on fire and throbbing fiercely by that point. Oh, to have worn a skirt with vibrating panties and a cock strapped to the inside…Cyd opened her eyes and looked over at the middle aged med student sitting beside her- She smiled. Short dark hair, deep brown eyes, a five o’clock shadow at nine pm and a polo shirt. Quite the picture of a North Eastern Med student. She casually struck up a conversation with him, knowing he had to make a connecting flight to New Orleans. “Business or pleasure?” She knew the answer. He was sooo not going for pleasure.

“Cardiology conference.” He smiled slightly as he bowed his head.

Cyd immediately pictured him hanging out in some seedy bar in the French Quarter, a single string of beads around his neck, bottled beer in hand. He would lean on the bar, looking around, bored. Had his comrades abandoned him? And oh, how she noticed he left his silver wedding band at the hotel. Cyd would be dressed in little more than a short gray skirt, maroon button up blouse (or should I say button down), black silk stockings and black stilettos. Her dark brown hair wild around her deep purple specs. Her sultry stare would penetrate him from the end of the bar. Stopping in mid survey of the room, he slowly stands….His cock twitching instinctively, her heat throbbing. They would both size the other up as he walked towards her…his cock growing harder with each step. The spell of the French Quarter was cast over both of them…the heat, sweat, and alcohol, created a heady perfume. The dark corner behind the bar created a perfect scene…they both knew it. When Cyd jumped off the bar stool, she made no effort to hide her exposed chest or pulled down her already too short skirt. They both kicked back a shot of bourbon, before heading to the far side of the bar. There was a small high table just against the wall. Cyd strolled along first, the intern following close behind…Just as easy as she had jumped down from the previous stool, she jumped up on the next one. This time, one more button came undone, revealing a very skimpy crimson bra. The intern, unable to control himself, immediately pinned her arms behind her back, a raw look of desire painted his face. Cyd’s wicked smile grew even wider as she felt her back slam against the wall. Pushing her legs apart, he thrust his bulging cock up against her heat. The years in med school had paid off, as he quickly ripped open her blouse and exposed her breasts…All the while with his back to the rest of the bar. As he bit his way up and down her neck, pulsating- Cyd managed to get her hands free. Cyd quickly grew bored of foreplay and demanded immediate satisfaction. In one smooth action, she loosened her arms, grabbing a fist full of hair with one hand, she thrust his head between her legs. “Let’s see how well you know the human body”. Not long after his decent, Cyd came in a burst, something that didn’t come easy to her. As the wave hit her, she wanted more…Time for the big easy. Cyd lifted the interns head, his gaze reaching hers- “Your turn..” His eyes went wide.

“Thank you, Mistress.” Was all that escaped his lips as he rose with his cock fully exposed. Condom in place, he lifted her off the stool (not an easy task for a curvy woman), slamming her against the wall once more, this time pounding into her with his seven inch thick cock. In a matter of moments she was cumming multiple times. Oh God the rush she got from being taken in a seedy bar….
When the plane landed she bid the intern goodbye, wondering what his wife looked like…She’d probly hit that too….

Let Me Lay Some Knowledge On You...

I am not your internet slut-

I am not your internet whore-

I am no longer that voice on the other end heavy and cumming acting like you're the man when secretly I'm rolling my eyes-

I don't get paid enough-

I do love sex-

And sex loves me-

But to ask me What are you gonna do to me for beads? !

PULEZE!

You're picture ain't that cute-

And I'm sure your cock ain't that strong-

Tell me-

Do you think you're gonna get any of this with that attitude?

Do not mistake my open sexuality for your private play thing-

I would turn your girl in a heart beat-

And leave you in the closet...

Nuff said.

This completes Tattooed Sailors first attempt at slam poetry