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Posts Tagged ‘Heather Cole’

  1. An Almost Threesome

    March 13, 2015 by Heather Cole

    Happy girl kissed by two young boys

     

    Ever since my friend told me about her experience with the pizza delivery man, my fantasies have run rampant with visions of sir tying me up and offering me to a stranger. I’ve had threesomes before, but they had all been F/F/M. I’m usually the wingman to the main couple (a male and a female) in the threesome, and I was comfortable in that role. Being the main dish, so to speak, had never been a fantasy of mine until the delivery man anecdote. That situation changed everything and gave my spankbank a jumpstart.

    I shared my ideas with sir, of course. We talked about my past threesomes and what I enjoyed about them and didn’t. The truth was that I liked orders, and when left to my own devices, I had a tendency to be reticent and observe. So having someone tell me to, “get on that dick” was really helpful to me. I also liked having a plan. Now I knew that sex didn’t need a map to every nitty-gritty detail, but I liked having an overview of activities for the threesome.

    What can I say? I’m a planner.

    My experience with “just let it happen” usually meant that nothing happened, or the orgy you hoped for evolved into something different entirely. None of that was wrong, and sometimes it was awesome when I got the unexpected. When it came to satisfying my personal tastes in the bedroom, though, I wanted someone else to be the boss who gave me orders and who followed a general plan negotiated upon the desires of everyone involved.

    The more sir and I talked about it, the more the fantasy threesome became something we both wanted to try in real life. He wanted to give me the gift of a M/M/F threesome, and I wanted to be his fucktoy to be shared and used. We discussed the details and negotiated the rules. We agreed that: I would be blindfolded the entire time, there would be no double-penetration (I was too nervous to relax enough for anal penetration), and I didn’t want the stranger to kiss my lips (on my face). And sir had a friend that he thought would be perfect as our third, because the friend had had previous threesomes and was sexually adventurous. Our stars had aligned.

    The night arrived and sir left me tied spread-eagle to his bed and blindfolded to answer the door. I had watched him light the cluster of votives on the bedside tables, and the lights had been dimmed before I was blindfolded. Music played quietly near my head, and to calm my nerves, I focused on my breathing. I thought I was managing rather well, all things considered. I could barely make out the soft murmur of voices through the closed bedroom door, and my heartbeat accelerated when I heard the scrape of chairs against the tiled floor of the living room. It was almost time.

    The bonus of being blindfolded was that I could focus on my other senses. I didn’t care if I found the friend attractive, and being unable to see helped reinforce the parameters of my role as a pleasure toy. You don’t ask your toy if they’re in the mood to play. You just play with it. And that’s what I wanted. I offered myself as a fuck toy to my sir, and he had seen fit to share me. I felt thrilled, and simultaneously, like there was a cloud of butterflies trying to break free of my stomach. Gross but true.

    It was sir’s hands that touched me first. He kissed me, and I recognized the feel of his lips and the scent of his skin immediately. I responded eagerly as his hands began to explore my body, and when they hovered over my pussy, I silently begged him to fingerbang me. I wasn’t disappointed. He made me orgasm several times in that position, and then the bed shifted beside me. I heard the clink of chain and recognized the sound immediately. Sir had a flogger in his hands. I struggled against my bonds, knowing that he was going to flog my thighs and pussy. Again, I wasn’t disappointed. There was the rush of air as it was thrown, and I squealed and thrashed as the strands landed on my most sensitive parts. At different moments I wondered when the friend was going to jump in. I thought that since he wasn’t into BDSM per se, that he might wait until we turned from the bondage aspect and toys to straight up sex.

    Sir didn’t give me much of a chance to ponder the situation. He stole my breath as he rode my body, his large hand squeezing my neck. I felt the keen edge of a blade scrape against the curves of my breasts, and then the stinging slap as he brought the edge of his palms across my nipples. I was buffeted by sensation and unable to anticipate any of it. Eventually he untied me and made me sit up. He snapped the leash on my collar and led me stumbling from the bed. I was ordered to bend over and present myself to the stranger, and I did so with my face burning. I couldn’t see the man, of course, but I could feel his proximity. My ass and pussy were on display for his approval, and the fine hairs on my body stood at attention, waiting for the feel of his skin against mine. Every particle of my being waited in anticipation for the stranger to touch me, but again, I was mistaken.

    Sir pushed me to the bed and thrust his cock in my mouth, and I was distracted from the question of our third by a trip down the spiralling rabbit hole of hypnosis. Sir painted a tale of wealthy men at an elite club, where I was the entertainment for the evening. After he brought me out of my trance, he put me on all fours and fucked me from behind until my arms were too fatigued to hold my body in position any longer. Briefly I considered the other man in the room with us, but my thoughts didn’t dwell on him. My body was being pushed to endure, and at that point, I only had enough energy to hold on tight for the ride.

    After sir had finished with me, I lay in a heap on the bed, not even trying to peek around my blindfold to see what the men were doing.

    “Stay,” sir told me. “Good girl.”

    I had moved beyond caring about the stranger. My body was spent and thoroughly used. I had fucked, sucked, and taken all the pain and humiliation that my owner had chosen to lavish upon me. I wanted nothing more than a shower, an extra thick cheeseburger, and a bunch of snuggles. And water. Water would have been nice too.

    I think I might have dozed off, and then sir was beside me again, tucking me into the crook of his arm. I asked if I could take off the blindfold, and he said yes. It took a moment for me to catch my bearings again, and then I inquired about his friend.

    The man had gone home without ever touching me.

    I met the friend the next night, and we all had dinner at a Turkish restaurant. He was humorous and gruff, and despite his reticence the evening before, I liked him thoroughly. I suppose we never know how we’ll act in a situation for certain until we’re actually in that situation. And I would be lying if I didn’t say that I was a teensy bit disappointed that the friend didn’t participate. Apparently we had blown his mind with the stuff we did in bed, and he had only wanted to watch. He told sir later, on an occasion when I wasn’t present, that he had felt like he was watching a sex show. I think that’s a compliment? Sir joked that he should have ordered the friend to fuck me while he went into the other room and watched The Walking Dead.

    Nah.

     


  2. An Anniversary: Dominance and Submission

    February 20, 2015 by Heather Cole

    Fashion photo of handsome man and two women

    The end of this month marks an anniversary for Sir and me. It was our first date, and I cooked him homemade saag paneer (an Indian dish) and baked him a cake. Little did I know that we would sign our Master/slave contract three weeks later. I will have been his collared sex slave for two years, and ever since I saw his calendar reminder of our anniversary, I’ve been reflecting on the evolution of our dynamic. I’m accustomed to long musings, just look at my blog posts for evidence of this, but this year’s anniversary reflections are particularly interesting with the phenomena of Fifty Shades as its backdrop.

    It’s easy for people to recognize the stereotypical male Dominant/female submissive trope. Like the dude in the photo above, the stereotype is that the male Dominant has scantily clad ladies prancing around following his orders. I understand the allure of the fantasy. The alpha male swoops in, makes the woman hot and bothered, fucks her into many mutual orgasms, and all is right in the romantic world. It’s one of the reasons why I write erotica, and why Fifty Shades of Grey broke the box office. The reality of Dominance and submission is far richer than what can be communicated through media. It’s not always grand kinky gestures all the time, and it’s the day-to-day interactions with Sir that give our D/s depth and meaning.

    I don’t resent the FSoG converts flocking to Fetlife and snatching up handcuffs from Spencer’s. I used to be one of those people with a huge exclamation mark above their heads and eyes newly opened with titillating kinky knowledge. My catalyst was a dying marriage and the movie Secretary. And by the time I entered into a relationship with Sir, I had already been around the D/s block once. I don’t think either one of us would consider ourselves the stereotypical Dominant/submissive, but in the beginning of our relationship, we probably had some of those expectations. For example, the stereotype that a Dominant should always be in control and emotionally distant because of that control.

    I think it’s bullshit.

    A person might be able to meet that stereotype if they only wanted to role play for a specified amount of time within specified parameters. And in the beginning of our relationship, I think Sir felt that expectation—that he should be in control at all times. But the gift of D/s to me is that the authentic communication required to sustain a dynamic dissolves the barriers between partners. We’re not robots or actors. We expose ourselves through Dominance and submission:  physically, mentally, and emotionally. We reveal our true selves in order to deepen our connection and cross boundaries. I wanted Sir to tell me how he felt, especially how our interactions affected him. Dominance and submission together can be an act of trust, and it can be a gift for both the giver and the receiver.

    After we got together, I clung to my independence outside of fucking, and I told Sir that I didn’t want to be micro-managed. He assured me that he didn’t want to choose my clothing or tell me what to write. Gradually, as we shared more of our time and thoughts, Sir began to ask more of me. He pushed at those boundaries that I had erected, and I had a lot of feelings about it. Many of them documented here. He asked for more of me, and as our relationship deepened and trust grew, I gave him parts of me that I hadn’t shown to anyone. He became more than my mentor, he evolved into my protector. That “daddy” aspect of D/s that I swore I would never want became part of our play. And the games we created reinforced our roles. Even when I pitched a fit and resisted a task, I eventually complied, because in my heart of hearts, I needed to obey him to make myself happy and to feel complete.

    That’s a factor that I think fails to come through in books and movies. Submission can be about playing obedient on the weekends or in the bedroom, but living in submission, with a Dominant at the helm of your relationship means digging deeper. D/s can be a journey inward as much as it is being tied up and fucked. The trick to that is revealing your inner self to the other. Not sexy at all, right? It can even feel scary at times. Like, what if I reveal a jealous or angry part of myself that makes Sir not desire me? Or worse, what if he shuts me out because he doesn’t want to deal with irrational me?

    Like I said before, it’s an act of faith and trust. I remarked to a friend lately that traditional relationships are a challenge for me, because I prefer to live in the extremes. My passiveness, which can be a detriment in the role of traditional girlfriend, is an asset as a sex slave. On the other side of the spectrum, my brattiness can be a positive within the context of D/s too. The control that Sir exerts over me is as much a construct of his desires as it is mine. He calls it a “tight hug” and during our time together, I have wanted that hug tighter and tighter. Especially now that he lives overseas. Those activities that we call games–like sending Sir pics of two outfits every night so that he can decide what I wear and how to style my hair for the next day–are ways in which we tell each other that we’re committed to our dynamic, and that we love each other so much that we want to make that effort. Sir promises me that he will show up every single day to talk to me, and every single day I see his handsome face and hear his voice. I rely on him as I have never relied on anyone, and in correlation, my love for him is deeper than anything I have ever experienced.

    It’s not easy and fun all the time. You can read about parts of our journey on this blog, and it’s one of the reasons that I continue writing about us. There are tears, debates, and angry words sometimes. We both have moments of resistance at different junctions, and some days, we show up to our daily talk with a heavy heart. But we show up. Every single damn day, we show up to be Master and slave, partners and lovers. I have never felt so challenged and so loved, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

    Happy Anniversary, Daddy.


  3. Dave Barry Reviews FSOG

    February 12, 2015 by Heather Cole

    Man Reading on Toilet 2

    A friend of mine shared an article that Dave Barry wrote for the New York Times last March, reviewing Fifty Shades of Grey. Barry explains that he wanted to read the book, because…

    “…as a man with decades of experience in the field of not knowing what the hell women are thinking, I was hoping this book would give me some answers. Because a lot of women LOVED this book. And they didn’t just read it; they responded to it by developing erotic feelings—feelings so powerful that in some cases they wanted to have sex with their own husbands.”

    Read the entire article HERE.

    Barry offers his review of the book, and it’s not favorable.

    “This is the kind of a book where, instead of saying things, characters muse them, and they are somehow able to muse them matter-of-factly. And these matter-of-fact musings cause other characters’ brows—which of course were already knitted—to knit stillfurther. The book is over five hundred pages long and the whole thing is written like that. If Jane Austen (another bestselling female British author) came back to life and read this book, she would kill herself.”

    He’s very funny about not liking the book (which one would expect from Dave Barry), but what I appreciated most about his article was that he brought up two interesting points. The first being that what women consider erotica (he used the word ‘porn’) is not what men expect from porn. I’ve been saying this to my sir whenever he edits one of my stories. His complaint is that the plot interferes with the fucking. I point out that it’s because he’s a man, and if I wrote a story for him it would be 95% sex and 1% dialogue. Thank you, Mr. Barry, for supporting my point.

    The best part of Barry’s essay, in my opinion, is his conclusion about why women loved FSoG.

    “Why was this book so incredibly popular? When so many women get so emotionally involved in a badly written, comically unrealistic porno yarn, what does this tell us? That women are basically insane? Yes.

    I mean no! No. Of course it does not tell us that. What it tells us is this: Women are interested in sex.”

    HOLD THE PHONE, people. Women are interested in sex??

    And here comes my favorite of this article, he explains that many men grow up being taught that women don’t want sex as much as men. Shocker, I know. That’s one of the themes of our little ‘ol blog, right here. I mean, that’s exactly why we started writing about our sexual adventures. We, the women of Vagina Antics, wanted sex as much as men wanted sex. Not our husbands. Obviously. But like other men who wanted sex.

    So despite my general disdain for FSoG (for poor craftsmanship on the author’s part), Barry’s article made me resent it less. If men can interpret it to mean that women like sex, then sally forth, gentlemen! Just be polite about it.

    ~Heather


  4. Kinklectic Blog Hop – Cupid did me right/wrong?

    February 9, 2015 by Heather Cole

    Cupid's-Secret---ANGEL-4g
    I have to confess, I’m not a fan of Cupid or Valentine’s Day. Apart from the chocolate. But then, I think every day should have chocolate. It’s my aversion to the romantic holiday that made it so much fun to write the short story for Kinklectic’s new anthology, Cupid’s Secrets. Thirteen Cupid-related stories by thirteen, very talented authors, and you can get it for $0.99 on Amazon HERE.

    To celebrate this auspicious release, I’m hosting a one-day blog hop to highlight Cupid and our latest release, Cupid’s Secrets. Our theme is: Cupid did me right or Cupid did me wrong. Tell us about your exploits with Cupid!

    TELL US!

    Post your experience on your blog (or comment here), and then enter the url in the link below. Don’t forget to let all your followers know where they can find more Cupid’s Secrets and some of the authors’ secrets too.

    My Cupid anecdotes are two-fold: one in real life and the other in my Cupid’s Secrets character, Soledad the librarian. First up is my real life tangle with Cupid and his tricksy arrows of love.

    Two years ago, I hosted a poly dinner party for my partners and their partners. That’s right. I invited my two boyfriends (and his wife), my girlfriend (and her boyfriend and his other girlfriend), and a Man of Interest, now known as my Sir. Confused? Yeah, join the club. You can read about the experience here: You Think The Story’s Over. Looking back at that dinner party, Dr. Hammer was the only person at that table that I hadn’t slept with. In fact, that party was only the second time we had met, but the emails and texts we had traded were already sparking what was going to evolve into a full-blown, collared, D/s relationship.

    I imagine Cupid perched on my buffet, invisible to me and laughing about the arrow he was about to sling. I thought I had it all figured out that night, and meanwhile, he was plotting for me to fall head-over-heels for the man I knew the least at that table. Flash forward seven months, give or take, and only Dr. Hammer, my dear Sir, would remain at that table. Little did I know that the title of that blog post would ring truer than I ever imagined.

    You won that round, Cupid. And I’m really glad you did.

    My character, Soledad, in I Hate You, Cupid also has her issues with Love. It’s Valentine’s Day and Soledad, a librarian with a secret past, is trying to summon the courage to tell her vampire best friend that she has a crush. Cupid visits Soledad and makes a dangerous proposition, offering her an arrow of love if she aids him. Will Soledad help Cupid and win the heart of her favorite vampire?

    Here’s a snippet:

    “You’re not going to need the gun, Soledad,” the cherub said and relaxed into the chair.

    “That’s for me to decide.”

    Working with goblins and demons made me more likely to shoot first and ask questions later. I shifted my stance so that I stood solidly on both feet. If I was going to shoot him, I wanted it to count.

    “I’m here to make your love fantasies come true. Shooting me would be premature, not to mention the fact that it won’t kill me.” He batted his eyes, the thick lashes making it look like he wore eyeliner.

    The word ‘love’ rippled through me, making the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I sank back into my desk chair, the leather creaking beneath me. I was dealing with someone far above my pay grade.

    “True. Silver bullets won’t kill Love, but I bet they’ll sting like a motherfucker. How long does it take to grow back a wing?” I asked, batting my eyes in return.

    He gave me a petulant frown. “How am I supposed to help you fall in love if you insist on maiming me? I’m a god, you know, and irritating a god doesn’t usually go well for paranormals. Even those pretending to be mostly human.”

    His shirt gaped to reveal the smooth chest of an adolescent as he reached behind his ear for an unfiltered cigarette. He lit it before I could protest, flicking the gold zippo shut with a sharp, metallic click.

    “Who says that I need help with love?” I asked.

    The cherub took a long look at me, his eyes traveling from the top of my head to my heels. “One doesn’t need to be the god of love to see that you’re in desperate need,” he replied, tossing his hair back with a practiced shrug. “I’m going to offer you an epic deal, although I’m not the altruistic sort. I need to use your magic and your special authorized library access.”

     

    Buy Cupid’s Secrets to find out what Soledad decides, and for only $.99 (free if you have KU), you can have twelve more romantic, erotic, sexy, fun stories full of Valentine’s Day love and Cupid antics. Be sure to check out our other Cupid’s Secrets authors and their exploits with the feathery cherub!


  5. It’s a Party for CUPID’S SECRETS!

    February 6, 2015 by Heather Cole

     

    We’re having a party!

    And I’ve promised to behave myself. No, really. I can. I CAN BEHAVE MYSELF!

    *cough*

     

    The fabulous contributors to CUPID’S SECRETS will be throwing a release party on Facebook. There will be lots of prizes given away, free books, and fun contests.

    I’ll be hosting 12-12:30 CST! (Oh crap, I’m going to have to figure out time zones.) So stop on by and join the fun! You can watch me (mostly) behave, AND you’ll have a chance to win prizes and score a free book from me. SCORE!

    Right. Behaving…

    Here’s the party link:  See you there!

     

    Cupid's-Secret---ANGEL-4g

     


  6. Wonder Woman and Bondage

    February 5, 2015 by Heather Cole

    I have loved and idolized Wonder Woman since I was a little girl. I had Wonder Woman underoos, and my cousins and I spent hours wreaking havoc around my grandparents’ farm playing Super Friends. Even at that age I was frustrated that there were so few female superheroes. I didn’t realize that Wonder Woman began as a comic in the 1940’s or that she was into bondage, domination and submission, and spanking parties. If I had known that… well, my childhood probably would have made a lot more sense.

    Many thanks to our friend, Ashley, for finding this article about Wonder Woman’s fascinating roots.

    “If you’ve never read the comics written by Marston and drawn by Harry G. Peter, Berlatsky’s book is particularly eye-opening. It’s not just that Wonder Woman gets tied up more than other heroes (although she does) and that she does plenty of tying up herself. Marston was a psychologist by trade, and his particular views on gender, sexuality, domination, and submission (which were all, in his mind, inextricably linked) are on full display in his Wonder Woman run. There are scenes of children learning to be submissive on Paradise Island, stories where Wonder Woman fails because she isn’t dominate enough, lurid images of women trapped in cages (and, sometimes, lurid images of Steve Trevor tied up). And there are those weird spanking parties.”

     

    I’m falling in love all over again. Fetch me my magic lasso!

    Read the entire post here: Why Early Wonder Woman Was a Champion of Feminism… and Bondage over at io9.


  7. Ask Heather – Tips for a Newbie Kinkster

    February 4, 2015 by Heather Cole

    Orange candy heart that reads ask me against white background.Hi Heather,

    I just wanted to thank you and Nikki for having such an amazing blog! I am just getting into the kink world and I don’t even know where to find people to fit in. Do you have any tips for someone who’s a timid person to break into the kink community?

    Thanks so much,

    JxF

     

    Dear JxF:

    Thanks for the compliment, sugar britches, and thanks for your great question. Your timing couldn’t be better, because I’m co-writing a book with a fellow kinkster about dating kinky and all the ins and outs that go with it. Heh. In and out. The book will be out in February, but until then (I’d never make you wait that long, sweetie!), let’s chat about where the wild things are.

    You’ve probably already taken a look at our Beginner’s Kink page, and there are some good newbie Q&A on the Ask Heather page too. Especially Mr. RSVP who had to be educated in appropriate party etiquette. In the RSVP post I also mentioned a Munch, which pertains to your situation specifically, but we’ll get to that in a moment.

    Probably the easiest way for you to connect with your kinkster community is to create an account on Fetlife. There are other kinky social media sites out there, but Fetlife is my favorite because I’ve found that it’s the easiest way to connect with the goings-on in my local community. Once you have an account, you can search for groups in your geographical area. There will be discussion threads for each group, announcements, and after a little bit of searching, I’m certain you’ll discover the time and location of your local Munch.

    On Fetlife you’ll also find individual writings where kinksters share their personal musings, and that can be educational as well. Or at the very least, eye-opening and/or amusing.

    The nice thing about kinky social media, as with all social media, is that you can lurk. I don’t mean that in a creeper way either. For those of us who are shy (yes, I can be shy too in new situations) it’s nice to read about events or activities before actually attending and participating. Am I right? For example, I joined the group that hosts our local Slave Hunt and read all the threads and discussions for a year before I summoned the courage to attend a Hunt in person. Reading about something isn’t exactly like experiencing it, but research helps ease my nervousness about taking the plunge into something new.

    This leads me the most reassuring part about entering the kink community. There are events, called Munches, that are specifically designed to welcome interested people to the community. They typically take place in a vanilla setting, like a restaurant. (I like eating bacon while meeting new people.) There may be a topic of discussion for that particular meeting, or it may be a purely social, meet-n-greet. I was a bundle of butterflies when I attended my first Munch at a local seafood restaurant. The food was terrible, but the people were incredibly friendly. They didn’t hesitate to introduce themselves and encouraged me to look them up on Fetlife. And every single one of them invited me back to the next Munch.

    Another great aspect to a Munch is that if someone approaches you to play, or wants to know you better, a Munch offers a neutral place to meet and talk. In fact, I’ve offered to take a friend to a Munch, so she can start meeting other kinksters in a safe environment that holds no pressure for newbies. Shoot, you don’t have to talk to another soul if you don’t want to, although I highly encourage you to say more than “pass the salt, please.” The feeling of finding people who are like you, interested in kink, is the greatest gift. Knowing that you’re not alone in the world and “weird” for liking the things that you do… that feeling is worth its weight in gold. I encourage you to reach out and take that first step to a Munch, and trust me, everyone is nervous their first time. Every single one of us was a newbie kinkster in the beginning.

    As with all things social, it may take some exploration to find the group of people that you really “click” with. There are millions of flavors of “kink,” and as a newbie, it will take time and experiences for you to figure out where you fit best. Or rather, with which people you feel the greatest connection. It can feel intimidating when you’re new, but we won’t bite unless you ask us. Once you’ve joined a kink-friendly social media site and start searching, new worlds will open up. We’re out here, and we want to welcome you. Just take that first step and meet us halfway.

    Hugs and Good luck!

    ~Heather

    Have a burning question about BDSM, kink, or sex? (The kind of burning that doesn’t need penicillin.) Write me and ask away! heathercole@vaginaantics.com


  8. Cover Reveal – I Hate You, Cupid

    January 26, 2015 by Heather Cole

     

    IHateYouCupid1-REV

    I’m thrilled to announce another Kinklectic anthology out in time for Valentine’s Day! This anthology, Cupid’s Secrets, features my short story, I Hate You, Cupid. 

    I Hate You, Cupid – It’s Valentine’s Day and Soledad, a librarian with a secret past, is trying to summon the courage to tell her vampire best friend that she has a crush. Cupid visits Soledad and makes a dangerous proposition, offering her an arrow of love if she aids him. Will Soledad help Cupid and win the heart of her favorite vampire?

    The first story of Annie and Soledad can be found in the Kinklectic anthology, Secret Lives, or on Heather Cole’s Amazon Author Page in Dangerous Seduction.

    Cupid’s Secrets anthology features twelve different authors and their eclectic stories with a Valentine’s Day theme. Look for it in February!

    ~Heather


  9. We are still US

    January 11, 2015 by Heather Cole

    The weeks leading up to my trip overseas, where my sir now resided, were a whirlwind of activity. I was in a constant state of motion, cleaning up, cleaning out, and packing. But all the physical activity was a distraction to what I was feeling. I was out-of-my-body excited to see sir. We had been apart for four months, and although we connected via Skype every single day without fail, nothing could compensate for the lack of touch. His kisses, his hands on my body, the reassuring bulk of him next to me at night… I missed those things so much that I couldn’t even admit to myself how I ached to be with him.

    I was also feeling nervous. Not about the trip itself, but how we would reconnect in the flesh. And in my darker moments, I felt jealous. Jealous of a geographical location. Sir’s new city had him, and he was building a life that I could only learn about through my incessant questions during Skype. That city with its exotic customs and foreign life had consumed him almost completely. From my perspective, I was my boring old self in our boring old life that we used to share. My anecdotes from sex blogging and writing work seemed lame in comparison.

    When I stood beyond the gate in front of customs, I could only gaze at sir and smile. I told him he looked amazing, and I meant every syllable. I had to wait until we were alone in his apartment to feel his arms around me and the feeling of being held by him made me cry. Even though we both made a lot of effort to connect despite the geographical distance between us, nothing felt as exquisite as his physical embrace. It felt like I had journeyed all this way into the heart of a foreign land to finally be home. Home with him.

    The tears didn’t last long, though, and after he dried them, he gave me a quick tour which ended in the bedroom. He proceeded to claim me then, in every way possible. He filled my mouth, my pussy, and my asshole. His body dominated mine just as his will did. He smelled different, but his cock tasted and felt the same. I shed more joyful tears, mingled with the sounds of our bodies joining.

    That first day was divided into sleeping, eating, and fucking. During one of our awake times, he dug into his closet and pulled out the toys he had accrued for us. He had made a flogger from a discounted pair of nunchucks and paracord. There was a pingpong paddle, a foot long plastic shoehorn from Ikea that stung like a sonofabitch, a wooden spoon, a belt, and his favorite rattan cane. How he got that through customs, which was notorious for confiscating any items sexually related, was a mystery to me. Maybe they thought it was a camel stick? He’s going to take me to the Souk (the traditional market) and make me pick out my very own camel stick that won’t be used on any camels, only this girl’s backside.

    I fell into the familiar rituals of a spanking with wholehearted enthusiasm even as a part of me hesitated at the edge of giving myself completely. I felt like we had to be reacquainted in some ways, and I waited to see if I would find our D/s connection as strong as it once was. Now we were in his new life, a life that hadn’t made room for my physical presence yet. Everything about this world was foreign, and I worried that he would be too, or that perhaps, we wouldn’t share a love of the things we used to. Eventually I told my monkey mind to shut up, so I could be present. I trusted sir with my body and heart, and I had to trust that my unease would vanish the more time we spent with one another.

    Sir had me suck his cock while he hit me with his belt. The pleasure I took from sucking and running my tongue along his shaft was punctuated by the licks of pain from the leather. I gasped around him, trying to focus only on what I could control:  my mouth, tongue, and lips. Eventually he pulled me up beside him where I cuddled into his side. He stroked my cheek and looked intently at me.

    “Did you like it when I hit you?” he asked.

    “Yes, Daddy,” I replied with a small smile.

    “What kind of girl likes being hurt like that?”

    It was a question that he had asked me in various ways ever since the beginning of our relationship. And staring into his beautiful hazel eyes, the answer practically exploded out of me.

    “This girl loves when you hurt her, Daddy. It’s because of you that I love it so much. The pain goes hand in hand with trust, and it moves us beyond our defenses. Together.”

    Lust swept through me as my words unlocked the last gate around my heart. I wanted him all over again, and I wanted him to consume me. This was our connection in action. This is what kept me at his feet for the long months that we could only talk through our computers. The fire that blazed beneath my skin was lust for this man, love, and a trust so deep that I couldn’t feel whole without it.

    I kissed him hard and pressed my body along the length of his. He pushed me gently back and thrust his fingers between my legs. The orgasm hit me immediately, and I cried out as my fingernails dug into his arm. A second orgasm followed on the heels of the first, and I squirted on to the sheets. Daddy laughed with delight and fingerbanged me to a third orgasm.

    I couldn’t believe that I had squirted. It had been so long since I had done so, and when he asked me about it later, all I could think of was how strongly I felt about us. That was what inspired and reassured me. Despite all the time apart, our bond was still powerful, and we were still us.

     


  10. Say Goodbye to 2014

    January 1, 2015 by Heather Cole

    2015-2

    Happy New Year, y’all!

    I must confess that I’m not sorry AT ALL to usher 2014 out the damn door. Last year was a real bite in the ass for me in significant ways. The spring of 2014 brought my mama’s diagnosis of uterine cancer. Then in July, my daughter underwent successful open heart surgery. August was burned into my brain, because my sir left for a three-year work contract overseas. The three most important people to me all suffered. Hey, 2014, KISS MY ASS!

    The year wasn’t all bad, of course. I published three books, one of which went into an anthology with incredible authors, and I have even more expected to be published in 2015. Last year meant broadening my writing horizons and making new friendships in the blogging/author world. I also had some amazing sexual adventures with my sir before he left, and to my surprise and delight, those adventures didn’t cease when the geographical distance between us increased. Don’t worry. Y’all will hear all about them. Well, most of them. This girl does need her secrets.

    In case you missed them, here are three of my favorite posts of 2014:

    H is for How – A post written by my beloved sir in response to a reader’s question. I swoon all over again reading his words. *blissful sigh*

    She Stabbed Me, and I Bubbled – My first experience with needles. Reading this again makes me grin. It was SO MUCH FUN!

    Heather Orgasms in Public – I did! While hypnotized! In front of university students! (I’ll stop exclaiming now)

    Looking back at the year behind us, I’m able to see the growth and the gifts that arrived on the heels of heartache and worry. I was tested in ways that I couldn’t have foreseen, and I think I’m now in a better place than when the year began. Thank you, dear readers, for coming along for the ride. There are so many good things to come. Heh. Come…

    KISSES!

    ~Heather