Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Her Red Ribbon


written by: Miss J

prettylilcreature@yahoo.com

They were to meet in a park for a real introduction. It was a favourite of hers, a pretty area surrounded by small forests on either side. An overcast day did not hinder the usual park fanfare of children playing, joggers and those out for a casual stroll. The one secret anomaly was her, waiting on a park bench near the playground just as she'd chosen, just as she'd wished. She sat calmly but with a tinge of apprehension in her posture. After all, this was not going to be conventional and it tested everything she knew little about. He was the one who may become the instrument in her learning of self, in her extension of will and trust. She didn't understand how it would occur or how she should feel but the unexpected nature of it all was enough to keep her sitting, pensively, waiting, even though parts of her wanted to flee.

He'd been watching her from nearby, from a place she couldn't see. He'd enjoyed watching her squirm in her subtleness. He'd watched her for her natural postures and detected the nuances of her anxiousness. She was lovely in this for he knew through her writing that she was of strong mind and yet, outside the confines of the written word, she clearly was not the picture of confidence she's always painted herself to be. He'd anticipated this for so much confidence surely had flaws and flaws were malleable in unearthing truths that she hadn't lived yet.

He'd moved through the park to position himself behind her bench. She sat, her arms crossed across her chest to calm the building fidgeting. She mulled over the possibility that he probably wasn't coming but it was in her nature to wait and be patient for just a little longer. After all, wants from her sensual side drove her in ways she didn't understand. He moved behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped slightly and her head whipped around to see who had gripped her. His face caused instant recognition but it did not ease her nerves for when she smiled and tried to stand, she felt his hand tense to hold her still. He moved his hand to gently hold her neck and leaned down to her ear to whisper "I've been watching you. You're lovely. Everything you want from me, you can have. I need your trust right now but you must choose it". It was here that he paused to garner her reaction and the eagerness in her breathing urged him to continue. "I need you to close your eyes, count to 30 and once you've done so, I want you to get up and walk into the forest behind you. Walk until you spot a tree tied with a red ribbon. When you do, I want you to walk to the tree and wrap your arms around it, clasping your hands together and closing your eyes. Begin now". She went to speak, to protest and inquire about a million things in his strange instructions but she felt the grip on her neck change from caress to a slight pressure, silently telling her that she may not speak. The pressure didn't subside and this caused her to shed her overthinking, sinking into what he'd asked. All the while, she found his fingers to be both soft and demanding which sent a shiver through her both with excitement and with slight fear. She closed her eyes and she began to whisper the numbers. His touch turned soft and he was gone. She battled against wanting to peek, to see him, his direction, but she felt compelled to follow his wishes.

Every whispered number sent shards of fractured thought through her mind. Should she be worried? Was everyone in the park watching her now? What was he playing at? Could she trust him? She thought so but she was scared. But even as she went on, curiosity and intrigue rushed through her mingling with doubt. On 30, she opened her eyes, looking around. Nothing had changed and no one had seemed to notice her. She stood up, facing the forest behind her. Looking around, she hesitated. What was through there? If she was nervous before, it did not compare to what she felt now. Her mind grabbed onto the touch of his fingers around her neck....the request for her to trust but to choose the trust. She stepped forward through the tall grass, the smaller poplars giving way to larger spruce and elms. The light began to dim slightly in places where the denseness of the upper foliage shaded everything below. The sounds of the people in the park began to lessen too as her senses began to clue into her steps and the natural sounds of the forest: soft wind, rustling trees, a few birds, the odd scurrying of squirrels. Ahead, she spotted a slight clearing with a beautiful thick elm upon which was tied a satiny red ribbon. She immediately looked around her in all directions, scanning. She half expected to see him somewhere nearby but quickly realized that he likely would not let her see him.

This was something she was meant to do by herself.

Walking up to the tree, she stopped a few feet away. She wanted to survey the forest again but something willed her not to. Some small spring of confidence welled -- something in her asked her to trust and to complete the task. Slowly she placed herself against the large tree, hesitating, reaching slowly around. Her hands found each other, just, as if the tree was particularly her size. She gulped, glancing to her side with difficulty, pressed tightly to the tree, unsure of why she needed to undertake such an odd thing. Remembering his last instruction, she closed her eyes and waited...

Each second that passed was a fraction of torture. The sense of isolation echoed around her. Every sound caused her senses to run in overdrive so much that her breathing became heavier. Each new sound made her head twitch and she fought to keep her eyes closed and her hands tight. She heard a few slight snaps, perhaps twigs. She couldn't be sure. It scared her but she kept clutching the large tree as if it somehow made her safer. Suddenly, she felt something slide around her wrists...a softness that interwove itself around them. She concentrated all her attention on the sensation and listened for any sound that would give away what was occurring and why. And then the soft thing around her wrists tightened, at first gently and then much harder. It hurt and she couldn't help but wince slightly as what was certainly ribbon bound her to the tree without apology. She first felt the need to struggle against the pain and she twisted slightly, trying to ease it. And then his voice was there, a cautionary whisper in her ear imploring "Stop struggling and feel what you know you want".

His words stopped her cold. Her breathing was short as the panic subsided as she gave into the sensation of her situation. Yes, her wrists hurt slightly but his gentle voice and his suggestion found its way into her mind. She felt bound organically. Her isolation here had painted a new recognition of want. It was the want of being asked to surrender to something in a present moment rather than fight against what was past or what was ahead. Heat rushed though her in delicious little waves as her breath slowed. She felt him lift her hair from the back of her neck and he laid a warm kiss on her skin there. A shiver moved up her spine and as he noticed, he twined his fingers around her hair, pulling it back. She breathed deeply and he kissed her neck once more. She listened as he stepped around her, slowly. She ached to be touched again, to feel his warmth. Things were still quiet. Again, his voice appeared suddenly nearby, whispering in her ear, his voice more low and serious. "You know I could do what I want with you here, yes?" Her heart raced and her voice quavered but she answered quickly. "Yes". She felt his hand on her bare leg, tracing a line from her ankle up beneath her skirt to her inner thigh. A visible tremor coursed through her. He smiled, releasing his hand. He placed his hands on her hips moving them up beneath her shirt to find her skin. She breathed in. His fingers traced a gentle line up her back and when they stopped, he pressed his fingers hard into her flesh and moved them down again. She arched her back slightly at the sensation. Her mind couldn't even assign words to this situation and what she felt.

He stepped away again and walked around to the other side of the tree. She waited for what seemed like ages for silence and isolation dispels time. Her body ached for more; to be subjected to sensations that mingled with her mind's release. She felt his hands on her wrists, working at the ribbon that held her fast. She felt the ribbon give and the blood rushed back as her arms, aching, tense and sore, braced the tree for balance. "May I open my eyes?" she inquired quietly. He smiled. "Yes". She opened them, stepping back from the tree. Her eyes fought to readjust to the palpitations of light in the forest. She saw him, standing there, the red ribbon in his hands. He stared deeply into her eyes and she returned the gaze, waiting for him. He smiled knowingly and walked to her. She watched him silently as he lifted her shirt slightly, baring her skin, asking her to hold her shirt there. He took the ribbon that had bound her wrists and gently began to wrap it around her waist a few times until he could tie it into a bow around her front. She watched him the whole time, waiting to see his eyes with a new longing that was quietly understood.

He finally looked at her. "Like the tree, you are bound to something that gives you life. It's nurtured by the ground, the sky, the air. From it's situation, it grows strong, trusting its purpose and the environment that supports it. You have grown a little too. You chose to trust. You stepped outside yourself to relinquish control and you gave into your senses, if even a little, letting your mind be nothing more than a construct that can be silenced in favour of what your senses and wants can teach you. When you go home, I want you to cut this ribbon into whatever size you need and each day, until I see you again, you are to wear a piece of this ribbon on you somewhere. It is to remind you that you are bound to me as long as you are willing to trust and to allow yourself to choose the things that allow you to be you". She mulled over his words carefully, drinking them fully. She smiled a little. He motioned to his side, the path at which she'd walked here. With no hesitation, she began to walk and after several paces she turned to see that he was gone, leaving her to see her tree, bound in its red ribbon, strong.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Nursery rhymes for perverts

written by: Hierophant

There was little girl,
And she had a little curl.
Right on the end of her pussy.
And whether it be boy,
Or whether it be girl,
Licking it she was never fussy.

Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To have some Hanky_Panky.
Silly Jill forgot her pill,
So all Jack got was wanky.

Mary Mary, quite contrary,
Found herself a job at the dairy.
But the farmer went and sacked her,
For riding naked on the tractor.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I love your tits,
(And the rest of you too).

Little Miss Muffet,
Sat on her tuffet,
Whiling the hours away.
Along came a spider,
Who sat down beside her,
And tickled her fancy all day.

Little Jack Horner,
Sat in the corner,
Heaving a great big sigh.
Someone passed him a spliff,
So he gave it a whiff,
And proceeded to get rather high.

Old Mother Hubbard,
Went to the cupboard,
To get poor Rover a bone.
As she bent over,
Rover ran over,
And slipped her a bone of his own.

Georgie Porgie Pudding and Pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
When the boys came out to play,
He kissed them too.
He's funny that way.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Victorian Erotic Poem



Victorian Erotic poem, found in The Pearl
written by: Unknown

A pretty little novice in her convent woke at dawn,
And looking from her lattice she spied upon the lawn,
A handsome shepherd quite intent
On playing with his instrument, his instrument so long!

She raised the window softly and watched him for a while,
Delighted with his movements, then asked him with a smile:
“Oh shepherd, pray, my wish consent,
And say what is that instrument, that instrument so long?

You play with it so nicely, it gives me joy to see,
So dear, I implore you, to teach the same to me;
Oh, kind young shepherd, pray consent,
I’ll finger well your instrument, your instrument so long!”

He looked up to her lattice with pleasure in his eye,
And cried: “Come down, fair maiden, for there you are too high,
Far, far too high for the extent,
That I can stretch my instrument, my instrument so long.”

She tarried not a moment, but swiftly rushed below,
And with the handsome shepherd she learned her lesson so
That soon she played most excellent
Fantasies on his instrument, his instrument so long!

The first sweet lesson over for her too fast, she then
In winning tones addressed him: “I’d like to play again.
Once more her fingers to work went,
Which made him use his instrument, his instrument so long!

But strangers seemed approaching, the fair girl bid him fly,
And cried: “Oh, don’t forget me, whene’er you travel by,
Oft, oft, come back, and we’ll invent
Fresh tunes for that dear instrument, that instrument so long!”

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Headmaster




written by:

CainingLondonBoy

A cold, dark, winter's evening, you have been summoned to a specific address at a specific hour by the recently appointed Headmaster of your higher education. You will arrive and we will chat as an introduction for no more than three minutes. I will then order you go downstairs to my wine cellar, the Study and you will get yourself ready, into your School uniform young lady.
I will arrive some 5 minutes later and tell you off for what you have been caught doing. Only the most severe of punishments will save you from being expelled. The humiliation you will bring upon the School, if your catalogue of offences, is revealed to the Bursar; your parents; the Newspapers even. Only the most severe of punishments and in a manner that will be at all times unquestioned by you and submitted to with compliance and good grace can possibly avoid these former actions.
You stand there, compliant, obedient, unable to hold my gaze as you look down to your regulation plimsoles (gymshoes) - a little nervous, your new School uniform - crisp white shirt; striped School tie; v-neck woolen pullover; pleated skirt, ordered to bend over the School desk and grip as far down the legs of the desk as you can. You can't see but only hear, only feel. The palm of my hands brushing your knicker clad bottom, slipping my finger tips into the elsatic and dragging oh-so slowly to expose the soft, rosy coloured, symetrical buttocks. Your plain, tight-fitting regulation School knickers, matching the colour of your regulation pleated skirt now stretched from ankle to ankle, blending in with your matching regulation School socks. Now bare, exposed, vulnerable. Quivering in anticipation. With both hands I smooth the palms and fingers to the middle of your bottom and start to stroke them slowly and firmly to the side. This gives me a perfect idea of how soft, firm, hard your little bare bottom is so that I will instinctively know how hard I can cane you but one other advantage, is that it will briefly part your buttocks so that I can, for the first time, get a glimpse of that most beautiful of feminine views, the gentle curve of your parting labia between your buttocks. Maybe even a glimpse of your nervous little bum hole. How I will touch, feel, stroke, slap, spank, squeeze, grip, scratch, punish, slipper, finger, probe, and punish again and again that lovely, by now, warm bottom and how wet will you be between your legs? A mere glimpse of moisture as your buttocks and labia part as I spank your buttocks and they involuntarily move apart - nothing you can do about that, just sheer applied Physics. Or will you display wantonly your arousal with your wetness running down your upper thighs, unable to contain yourself. Any hint will result in additional spanking. Make no mistake young lady, any sign of arousal will earn you immediate and additional strokes of the cane.
After each set of cane strokes, the classic six-of-the-best, thus 6 or 12 strokes at a time. You will be given sufficient time to pause between the 6-12 strokes and will be expected to have a physical inspection in between to facilitate your rest of course. Standing in the middle of the room, upon first inspection I will now order you to undress, removing your sweater. Your School tie. Unbutton your blouse and stepping to the side to fold neatly and place where directed. Then to unbutton your plain white bra, the only item of non regulation School uniform. You will then stand, naked, hands on your head, feet placed reasonably well apart. This is your time to recover between strokes. I will inspect you, your cane marks and order you into different positions during each inspection. Hands on your head; legs together; legs apart; further apart; touching your toes; on all fours; on your back with legs and arms spread-eagled wide. I will look, I will use the curved leather tongue of the riding crop to touch, stroke and probe any part of your naked body. The natural curve of the crop’s tongue perfectly shaped to smooth and glide over your soft, shaved, arched pubic mound. Any sign of wetness during inspection will be deemed as your fault. Another six, harder, strokes of the School cane, across that desk you filthy girl. Will I feel the urge to press my whole body against you from behind as you remain naked bent over my desk? Only then will I decide what continued punishment you still deserve. Your desire doesn’t come into it but to reiterate, any wanton desire from you, wetness and reacting audibly in specific ways will merit harsher punishment. At this point you will be reminded that you will have to obey me, without question, without hesitation and when I am fully satisfied that you have learnt a valuable lesson will I confirm that your misdemeanours will not be reported to the School Bursar; most embarrassingly for you, to your parents; and most embarrassingly and financially damaging to our School, the newspapers.
Now put your uniform back on young lady and when you are neatly attired, thank me for my guidance and valuable advice.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Whips & Stockingtops



a lovely cheeky comic with vintage images

written by:
Giles English @
http://chasteerotica.blogspot.com

well done & thanks for sharing,
head on over and see more great erotica musings for your reading pleasure!
enjoy!!!

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Over Coffee

my first attempt some years ago at writing erotica for fun!

written by:

Moi

“Anya, I need to be honest for a moment” spoke Nicolette as she fingered the mouth of her Cornwall blue coffee mug. "I have long found you to be a very interesting woman” admitted Nicolette in an uncharacteristically subdued manner to her voluptuous dark haired date for the evening.

“You have?” answered Anya in a curious tone while stopping to collect her thoughts on the matter.

“Why” she asked rather bluntly, all the time gazing directly into Nicolette's grey blue eyes as a search light aids it questioner in removing the darkness allowing the evidence to reveal itself.

Overwhelming feelings of desire and desperation began to well up inside Nicky knowing that as soon as she answered this question she would have had ventured beyond the point of no return risking the seven months of friendship between them.

“Excuse me” said Anya impatiently as she retreated from the conversation and left the table moving towards the trendy downtown coffee shop's unisex bathroom.

“Fuck!” Nicolette muttered to herself and threw her coffee spoon onto the delicate china saucer at her place. ”Why did I bother to initiate this conversation at all?” she chided herself...knowing inside that whatever its fate she still must divulge herself completely of these lustful intentions. The former feelings of desperation & desire which took hold of her had now gained momentum with reckless abandon and were forcing Nicolette forward both in action and intent.

Without hesitation, in one deliberate movement Nicky got up from her chair and swiftly followed Anya en route to the bathroom like a spy in the night. Just as the heavy brown door silently closed behind her friend, Nicolette quickly stepped inside only seconds later placing her body directly behind Anya so that she could feel Nicky's warm heavy breath on the nape of her long perfumed neck. In an instant Anya turned around without hesitation as if she had expected Nicky to follow her and said nothing. Left standing face to face, both women clearly felt the tension building between them as they allowed themselves to succumb to the yearnings of insatiable erotic desire, burning as the raging midsummer fire consumes the night.

Immediately Anya pressed Nicky body back up against the door and with a twist of her left hand she locked it. Nicky's thoughts raced in every direction, her breath became short and rapid. Anya's lips pressed hard against Nicky's mouth biting down on her rose hued bottom lip leaving a tiny bruise. The smell of jasmine and amber resin with which Anya oiled her hair was intoxicating for Nicky and sent her senses into a wild frenzy, emptying her mind of any and all thoughts. Anya grabbed Nicolette's arm and guided her hand, sweeping across her white gauze hippie shirt, under which she wore no bra, grazing her firm full breasts, bringing attention to her hard, small brown nipples, finally reaching down behind the waist and onto the silver button of her faded jeans. Nicolette's mouth followed along down to Anya's succulent ripe breasts and violently began sucking and licking causing Anya to throw her head back in euphoric satisfaction.

“Oooohhh” moaned Anya in a low throaty whisper. Her entire being had become completely dissolved while enraptured in such wild feminine pleasures!
Round and round, slurping at her sweet, lush breast, cupping it with one hand while tracing the terrain of her erect nipples with her tongue,alternating between sharp nibbles and soft licks. Nicky used her other hand for undoing the button of Anya's jeans and made her way knowingly downwards remaining thereat Anya's juicy cunt. Her sex, felt soft and swollen with desire. Nicky's fingers pleasured in exploring every rise and fall of her friend's velvet pussy with its dark, curly, neatly groomed hair.

“My god, you are so beautiful” spoke Nicolette tenderly into Anya's diamond
studded ear.

Fondling her clit as a fine jeweler would finger the perfect pearl, sliding back and forth across her precious bead, slipping in all Anya's wetness, circling her tumescent lips, Nicolette inserted one finger, two, then three; deep inside Anya's body. Anya's body arched back in ecstasy and she could feel herself stiffen with the mounting intensity of Nicky's touch. Increasing her rhythm and advancing deeper into her sex with every caress Anya bit her tongue to keep from crying out in delight, hoping there were no guests waiting in a cue for use of the bathroom. Thick sweet honey flowed from Anya's moist pussy, trickling down the inside of her soft , fleshy thigh. Anya raised her leg high over Nicolette's slender, alabaster hip and together they turned as Nicky lifted Anya up on to the edge of the sink nearby. Anya's back now resting on the large wall sized mirror behind, the overhead incandescent light bulbs illuminating the two womens fiery entanglement below. Anya wiggled her way out of her Lucky Brand jeans and let them drop to the floor.

Nicky took Anya's hand, led it to her breast held it there and and squeezed firmly, as if to ask for palpable affirmation of her advances. Nipping at the stiffend peaks of Nicky's satin pink nipples between her supple fingers Anya's face had become flushed displaying her unequivocal carnal desire towards her precious friend. This is the unashamed acceptance Nicolette has only until this moment; dreamed of.

Wanting this impassioned moment to linger forever, Nicolette slowed her pace and and brushed her cheek to Anya' reddened face, kissing softly up and down the tender, moist skin of her elegant neck pausing to tug with her teeth on each tiny earlobe in a playful manner. Their sultry, sweaty breasts weighted heavily against one another; setting Nicky's heart ablaze, the flames feeding the fire for whom her passion burned.

“Don't stop Nicky, please...” groaned Anya with an unfulfilled, voraciousness she had never known herself to posses. With total willingness of body, ready to succumb to her insatiable cravings of her female libido, Anya took Nicky by the hand once again and forced Nicky to thrust her fingers deeper still, penetrating her hungry sex even farther that before. Faster and faster, Nicky's fingers crashed through the any traces of visceral resistance, weakening Anya's legs and sent thunderous currents of heat undulating throughout her exquisite body. This sent Anya moaning uncontrollably as her limbs convulsed feeling the crescendo of orgasm rapidly approaching.
Curling the walls of her tumultuous sex firmly around Nicolette's lyrical fingers, her eyes closed and rolled back into her head.

Anya exclaimed loudly “aaaahhhhhhoooohhhhhhhh” followed by “yes, yes, yes!.” Nicky's fingers slamming in and out, her breath became as heated and fast as her hand, giving rise and fall in perfect sync with Anya's turbulent aria of pleasure and unabashed satisfaction for all to hear.

Nicolette's other hand gripping at Anya's ass thrusting her hips forward yielding freedom of movement to bump and grind with each stroke of her lovers skilled hand. Nicolette slid another finger into Anya's slick pussy and finally her entire hand... pulsing and fluttering around like a summer butterfly; driving Anya higher and higher until finally the rosy lips of her pussy became numb and her cunt erupted into a ocean of creamy white cum, rushing down her legs , soaking Nicky's hand and dripping onto her silken panties which had earlier been thrown to the floor under her feet.

Her climax had brought a spontaneous tear of recognition to Anya's eye and her body fell loose in Nicky's unencumbered embrace. Clutching Anya in her arms, Nicolette held her lover close, caressing her face like that of a newborn.

“I wasn't sure how you would react to my unveiling of such deviant intentions” confessed Nicky as she now focused on Anya's soft green eyes, not fretting over her friends possible adverse reaction.

“I think I had better get dressed in case that someone is waiting to come in” said Anya with a demure grin, resembling the Mona Lisa. At that Anya dressed quickly, peered into the mirror fixing her hair rather loosely and turned to face Nicolette,then smiled affectionately. Together the two women held hands and dauntlessly strolled forward out of the bathroom past the several women who had been waiting in a cue just a few meters away.

“Lucky for them if they were privy to our afternoon rendezvous” giggled Anya in Nicky's ear as she paused in front of the blushing guests, kissed Nicolette on the cheek and let out a rewarding sigh.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Welcome!




Welcome!!

vingettes are "snapshots in words", similar to flash fiction.

You can send your EDITED stories for review to

eroticvignettesblogger@gmail.com

Please no rape, torture, child porn, snuff or beastiality!

Otherwise pretty much everything else is a go!