Working Late

It had been an exhausting week: problems with clients, problems with machinery, problems with money and contracts. Despite the length of the week or the fact that it had ended for the worker bees of the company, their queen was pushing papers in the sunset glow of the city skyline. 

Her phone chimed, as it had many times this evening. As it did every evening…and afternoon…and morning. Always with a message of love and support from her Rock, her Man, her Sir, her Daddy. 

Still working hard, little one?

Yes, Sir. The lines are all starting to blur together, though. I probably don’t have much more productivity in me tonight. 

Speaking of ‘in you’, you need to take a moment, lay over your desk and put your princess plug in. Then massage that beautiful clit for five seconds and text me for further instructions. 

But what if someone else is still in the office, Daddy?

Then they may watch my good girl obey her directions. 

Yes, Daddy. I’ll be right back. 

She went to her purse to retrieve the petite velvet bag that contained her jeweled but plug that shone with his birthstone on the hilt. She looked around outside her office door nervously. She loved and hated tasks like this. The nervous arousal, the risk…they excited her and terrified her. 

She removed the plug from the bag with a small tube of lubricant. She always carried both with her at all times. She never knew when he would require her to put the cold heavy steel into her body and carry on with her day. 

She hiked her skirt over her round hips, squirted a bit of lube on the cold metal and slowly pushed it through her tightest opening.  She breathed deeply as it slid home. Her fingers went to her clit and began to rub as he’d directed. 

“Very nice view,” he said from the door of her office, startling her. “Stop rubbing, sweeting. I’ll be taking over now.”

His hand slid over the small of her back, gentle downward pressure melded her belly to the desk. His other hand ran over her ass and teased her lips. He grasped and twisted the plug and then slapped one cheek hard.  She yelped at the unexpected sting. His hand landed against her ass again and again, then rubbed to sooth the heat. Fingers delved into her wetness, pumping until she moaned wantonly. 

“What do you want, little one?”

“More, Daddy. I need more,” she ground out. 

“You will tell me what you want, slut. Tell me what more is,” he growled against her ear as his fingers ever so slowly massaged her g-spot. 

“Daddy, please, I need your cock inside me. I need you to take me, remind me that you own my pleasure and my pain.”

She heard the clank of his belt buckle falling open and his zipper slowly descending. He took her wrists and held them together against her back as he teased her with the head of his rigid penis. Rubbing it from her plugged ass to her clit. He, oh so slowly, pressed against her wanting hole. “You want this, little one? You want me to stop teasing you?”

“Yes, Sir!” Her hips wiggled and tried desperately to press back, to take what she wanted. 

His big paw smacked down on her ass as he pulled away, still holding her wrists firmly. He rained blows against her skin. It burned like fire. “You will get my cock when I’m ready, when I am finished teasing you. When I decide you have been teased enough. Is that clear, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She stilled, and steeled her resistance. ‘I will not move. I will not move,’ she silently chanted. 

After a few moments of nothing, he plowed through her folds, slamming his hips against her rapidly as he forced her first release. The initial orgasm he gave her was always intense and fast. Then he took his infuriating time after. Slowly he toyed with her core, long slow strokes, deep strokes. The heat grew within her womb. Her ass was so full, her cunt tightly stretched around him. Her cheek pressed against the cool mahogany of her desk. The lights were on and the city was dark. Anyone who happened to look into the sky high window would see them. This was another facet of the thrill.  What if they were being watched? 

His leisurely fucking was being replaced demanding assaults on her cervix. His hand moved from her wrists to her hips, fingertips digging into the tender flesh. 

“It’s time, little one. It’s time for you to cum with me.”

The sensations bombarding her gave her no choice. His voice commanding her. His hands gripping her. His cock stretching her core against the plug in her ass. The spasms tore through her core, grasping at him, taking her release and receiving his. 

She lay limp across her desk, thinking that she would never fail to think of him when she sat in that chair. He petted her, ran his fingers down her back, murmured sweet words to her as she recovered. His cock slid out of her and she felt his seed release and warm her lips. He zipped his pants and pulled up her panties and down her skirt, smoothing it over her curves. Her Rock helped her to stand and turned her into his embrace, stroked her hair and her back as she clung to him. “Such a good girl,” he crooned as she regained her equilibrium and he kissed her forehead. “Now, shut down that spreadsheet. You are done for the night.”

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled dreamily.  When she was done, they killed the lights and left to finish their Friday night together at home. 

Working Late

A Surprise Visit 

She answered the phone at 5:58pm and prayed that it would be a quick and painless call. It was Friday night and this week needed to be over, but she was trying to finish up reports and they weren’t going well. 

“Hello, little one. Have you been a good girl today?” His voice halted her pulse and her mouth went dusty. It was Daddy!!  What did he mean? Had she forgotten a task? Some order she didn’t recall?

“I think so, Daddy,” she replied tentatively. 

“Good. I’m here. You need to come down and let me in.”  Her jaw dropped. He couldn’t be here. He was supposed to be gone on business. Where? He hadn’t said where he was going. 

“Here? You can’t be here. Are you? Really?” she stammered. 

“Princess, I’m not playing.  Come downstairs and let me in,” he replied firmly. 

“Yes, Sir. I’ll see you in a moment.” She hung up the phone and stood, put her shoes back on, grabbed her keys and cringed briefly at how she must look. Hair in a messy bun, glasses on her head, makeup that was hours old. No time to fuss. He knew what he was getting when he asked her to be his. 

She flew down the hall to the elevators and pushed the call button. When the door opened and as she stepped inside the full punch of excitement hit her core. Here. He was here! 

The door opened in the lobby and she saw him standing against his truck outside. Jeans fitted perfectly to his form, boots and a hoodie. So casual but so in control. She ran to the door and pushed it open.  He cleared the door and immediately wrapped her in his arms. It had been far too long since he held her, his woman-child love.  Her cheek pressed to his chest, she clung for dear life as the months of absence melted away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she sobbed into his jacket. Overcome with raw emotion she brought her hand to his cheek and he wiped her tears. 

“If I told you, I couldn’t surprise you, now could I?” He held her tightly against him and kissed her breathless. “Let’s go up, Princess.”

They entered the elevator and she swiped her key card. As the doors closed and he was sure they were alone for a moment, he pressed her to the wall, pinning her wrists and biting her neck. “Mine.” No other words as he pushed his hand down her skirt to seek out her wetness. His finger found her slick folds and he groaned before bringing his finger to his mouth. “Fuck, you taste good. I’ve missed you so much.”

The elevator door opened and they stepped out, separating slightly, just incase someone was there. The janitorial crew was just finishing up and asked if she was staying. He stood by as she spoke to them and told them to have a good night. The place looked familiar to him from her stories and pictures but he’d never been here before…not in this building and not in this city. She was the reason, the only reason, for this trip.  

 She took his hand and led him down the hall, turning out lights as they went. When they got to her office she led him around her desk under the guise of looking at the city’s skyline. She opened the blinds and turned to wrap her arms around him again. His hand went to her hair, so soft and inviting to his grip. She pushed him back to sit on her desk and nestled between his legs. Her hands roamed his back as they kissed with the passion that only lovers separated by time and distance understood. She worked the buckle of his belt and the fly of his jeans as their mouths made love.  Her lips moved from his mouth to his ear, then she pulled his hoodie and shirt off over his head. Her kisses were fire across his collarbone and down his chest. She lingered on his belly while her hands freed his throbbing cock. She grasped it and began to stroke him, precum already pooling on the tip, she ran its gloss around her lips. She sat in her desk chair and looked up into his eyes as she took him into her mouth. God, how she’d missed the taste of him…the  spicy smell of him. 

Her lips against his skin felt so good, like a home he’d been away from for too long. He stroked her hair, gently touched her lips where they melded to him. His rough hand cupped her satin cheek. This woman of his was an astounding creature.  He stopped her after several heavenly torturous minutes. “Come here my sweet girl. We are going to do this my way,” he said, sliding off the desk and turning her around.  He lifted her skirt and pulled her soaked panties down and off her ankles.  He pressed his body between her creamy thighs, pushed her ass onto her desk and entered her body slowly while he slowly unbuttoned her top. He parted the sheer fabric and soaked in the picture before him. She propped herself with palms splayed on the desk behind her. He unhooked her bra and let her breasts peek out from below as it slid up. His hands surrounded each and massaged, her nipples grew taught and he rolled them between his finger and thumb. Her whimpers drove him crazy and his hips began to rock. Buried inside her, he gathered her close to him and whispered in her ear, “Mine. Do you understand? You are always going to be mine.”

“Yes, Daddy, all yours,” she said on the heels of a moan. His long held control cracked and was slamming himself into her. He pulled her hips forward so that the bottom of her voluptuous ass was off the desk and her legs were wrapped around him and he pounded her back into the desk. Resting on her elbows in the red glow of exit signs, he felt her walls contract. A silken grip pulsing on his cock as she came for him. She wailed and it was too much for him to take. His legs shook and his heart overflowed as he emptied his seed into her. She lay limp, her legs hanging from the desk, their juices running down her ass as he slid out. 

He wiped her up with the discarded underwear that lay on the floor and threw them in the trash can. Her office would smell like sex when she came back Monday morning and it would make her blush. For now it was time to get her fed and home to bed. 

A Surprise Visit 


She walked into her room with shopping bags, a mocha, and a grin. He had a faith in her ability to please him that she didn’t have. She hadn’t wanted to find something to ‘wow’ him, as he’d said. It felt like a test that she might fail, pressure. Yet she knew now, He would be pleased when he unwrapped her tonight. He would be pleased even if she hadn’t chosen his favorite color.
She hummed her favorite song of his while she showered, dried and perfumed her curvy body. The body she knew he loved and she was learning not to hate. 

As she slid black stockings over her thighs she daydreamt of his fingers peeling them off later. She pulled the new corset into place and laced it tight under her full breasts.  

 Dinner was delicious. Their conversation was flirty and sparkling. They danced like smoke and velvet to sexual tension and  blues music. His breath on her neck made her tremble while his firm hand at the curve of her spine guided her. This was a night she had longed for through the months since they met. A dreamscape of lusty imaginings met with reality. After what felt like seconds and forever the dancing and drinks were over and they were bound for her room. 

He took her card and unlocked the door while he kissed her against it, an eager hand already pressed to her breast. They laughed as they bounced around one another getting into the room. 
Her hands went to his belt.  He gripped her wrists while they kissed. His lips teased her neck and his breath found her ear. “You have something to show me, little one?” 

 Buying the right lingerie wasn’t the test. The color didn’t matter, though he definitely preferred red.  The showing was the challenge. Putting herself on display, risking rejection that she knew wasn’t going to happen. She knew she was safe. But still…

He sat down in a side chair, extended his legs and watched her squirm. She could do this, he knew she could. The layers of self doubt had been molting away like old skin that no longer fit her. That shy smile when she turned her back to him and slid the zipper down from her shoulders to her hips; it did things to him.  His pants felt too tight.  She turned to face him as she slowly pushed the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to her hips before pooling  at her feet. 

He stood and cut the distance in one stride. His fingers traced the edges of midnight lace and scarlet ribbon, satin ruffle and whalebone stay. He knelt and kissed her garters as he unfastened them. His hands glided over her stockings as his lips and teeth seared her thighs. He removed the scrap of satin that provided a nod to modesty over her sex. He pushed her back on the bed, tracing her delicious curves with his hungry mouth. He drifted to the floor, pushed her thighs apart and her knees up. He brushed knuckles along her slit, drawing out the sensations that were coming. No rush. Kisses and nips along her most tender places. When his mouth met her lips in earnest, she nearly screamed. His digits delved into her core while his tongue played music along her clit. She was quickly ready to explode into infinite shards of joy. “Please, Sir. Please?”

“Please, what, Princess? Ready to come so soon for me?  It has been a long time…” He continued to play her g spot while he talked. She was desperate, writhing, slapping the still-made bed. His lips were so close, she felt his breath when he said, “Come for me, sweet girl.” 

She cried his name, spewed profanity, begged for it to stop and go on forever. Her stomach still quivered as he joined her on the bed, whispering praise and desire against her ear. Growling the things that he was going to do to her body.  

 He fastened leathers around her wrists and ankles, as they’d long agreed. He splayed her arms above her head, as though she were reaching for what she still could not see.  The restraints were chilly and heavy against her pulse points. Quality, just like everything about this man. The man she was giving herself to, finally. 

His hands worked the hooks on the front of her new corset, kissing each morsel of newly exposed flesh as it parted. 

And she was, at last, uncovered. 


The Last Tear Falls

“The last tear falls, she places her rejected heart back within her ribcage, wipes the blood from her fingers and walks away.” -@philofwords

A poetic way to say that a predatory bastard struck again. And now that he’s done with her, he will find another. She thought that she was smarter, that she was too grownup to fall for bullshit lines and flattery.  But he was smooth.  He said the right things and she bought it hook, line, and sinker even when it seemed a little off.

He just wanted to be friends…maybe naughty friends.  There was a health crisis in her family and he was there for her until things were okay again. Before long he was picking her clothes and calling her baby. There was a bedtime and daily tasks for her brain.  He got  her to send pictures and share emotions that she never thought she would.  He got her to share everything. Her hopes, her dreams, her fantasies and her submission. It was good… too good, apparently.

One day he dropped a bomb.  She hadn’t been the only one… until that morning when he broke things off with his last girl. And she swallowed it. She said it was no big deal and swallowed the bullshit. She knew she should gag on it. She didn’t even tell her best friend who knew everything.

Not a week later she shared things from her marriage, turmoil. Pain. Fear.  Too much information; too much risk for him to deal with. He wasn’t going to be the cause of a split.  He was out instantly.  He was sorry, but he was gone.  No more support. No more bedtime. No more tasks.

And she watched him move on.  Watched as he flirted and wooed.  Suspected as new girls came into view.  She had to know, so she followed him with another account.  He followed back immediately.  He introduced himself  by “penetrating her DM box.”  The lines were EXACTLY the same.  EXACTLY.  No creativity, no crafting, exactly the same.  Cut and paste?  How foolish could she have been to sucked in by that?

So, she wiped the last tear, locked her heart up tight, wiped her hands and typed up a post in third person because it’s easier that way.



The Last Tear Falls

That Jeering Bitch In My Head

It seems there is a lot of talk lately about body shaming. Other people think you’re too something….Too tall.  Too short. Too fat.  Too thin.  Too many stretchmarks. Curves too dangerous.  Curves too boring.  And worst of all… they say something about their unfounded opinion because they are mean or, more likely, they have zero social skills. This is only one part of the problem; the other part of the problem is what we say to ourselves.

I have lived with, since I was a small girl, a not-very still, small voice internally berating me for my perceived inadequacies.  I am too tall, too fat, too broken to be acceptable.  Strangely, the only person with the need to say those things to me is me.  Worst of all that voice has made me jealous of the people who I have thought are not too tall, too fat, or too broken.  What must it be like to be them?

I have never shared a picture of myself in any state of undress until now because I felt as though I am too fat, have too many imperfections, have too many stretch marks, am generally unattractive and undeserving of desire… and who would want to see me anyway? I am far from perfect, but I am me, and I am determined to begin owning it.


As I delve into my 40s, I think it must be the same for you as it is for me.  I have learned that, in many ways, we all struggle the same way.  Age and experience are a part of this change in perspective, but also a belief that I am just not so unique that my inner dialogue is singular to me.  But it still, it doesn’t shut up that voice in my head.  I know that I can’t be the only one with that grating voice between my ears.   We all must hear the jeering little bitch in our heads with varied volume. We all must feel inadequate.  You must not see what I see!  Do you miss the essence of you?  You must not internalize what I see when I set my eyes on you.  I don’t see your bulges first.  I don’t think that you are awkwardly tall or unbearably short. I think you… yes you… are beautiful for what you are, as I am beginning to see the beauty in what I am.

We are all just people living in the skin we are given and doing the best we can. It is time to give credit to the skin we are in for all that it is, not self degrading for all that it is not.


That Jeering Bitch In My Head