Well then...

 Hi folks. If you spend any time on the internet at all, you've probably heard about Google's latest.

If you haven't, here's the rundown. Google has decided that "adult blogs" that contain graphic forms of adult conversation or photos will be made private. So if your blogspot, like ours, talks about sex, we're essentially being removed from the internet. I don't know how many "invited" users Google will allow to these soon-to-be-private adult blogs, but obviously, they're cutting accessibility. I think they'd rather delete them all, considering a while ago, they did threaten to delete blogs that had "adult" advertising revenue.

Here's there lovely (new) email about their upcoming censorship policies:

We do have a wordpress version of this blog, but at this point, I have no idea if we'll even put the effort into continuing. We've loved all our readers, our commenters and our lurkers.

If we do continue to blog over there, I'll update here again, and you can always follow me on twitter, though I am intermittent in my activity there. We'll also still be on FetLife (that's a link to Master's profile, so you'll need to be signed in to use it).

(I wanted to title this blog "Shitty play, Google" but that just seems so obvious.)

Thoughts on kinky fiction

Everybody knows that "50 Shades of Gray" is everywhere. Some love it. Some loathe it.

My opinion on it is limited; I have not read it, and I'm not inclined to because I've heard that the editing leaves a lot to be desired. I make loads of mistakes in my writing, but when I read for pleasure, I don't want to be interrupted by excessive spelling, punctuation and tense errors.

I love, love, love erotic fiction though. Reading porn gets my mind running and my body tensed. I spend a lot of free time reading on literotica, some select kinky tumblr's, and browsing through the cheap and free kindle erotica. I've found some gems, some that were okay, some with excellent writing but no genuine plot, and some really horrible ones I've never read more than 10 percent of.

I read all kinds of erotic fiction, usually centered around BDSM and kinky relationships, and I totally love forced consent stories. I have a plethora of reading material between the ones I seek out, and what Master is working on. He has (several) BDSM novellas, and most of them are dubious around consent. In one, the main character was outright kidnapped and subjected to a whole new way of being. It definitely doesn't fall into Safe, Sane and Consensual, nor Risk Aware Consensual Kink. It's still fucking hot. It's fucking fantasy.

I am disappointed that supposedly, 50SOG wades into the whole safeword business, and then deviates away from it with the main character spiraling into stalker behaviors. I think, if an author bothers to enter the whole SSC/RACK/safeword zone, they should stay in it, unless their characters bother to negotiate an end to those suppositions. That's my take on it anyway, your mileage may vary.

Pardon me while I go put my lust in overdrive from reading some story where people would scream "that's abuse!"

Still here...still kinky...still wanting more...

Friday the 13ths are some of my favorite days. I've always felt they were quite lucky, personally.

Yesterday was no exception. When the kiddos were safely tucked into bed, Master and I took our chance. It's been a while since we had any substantial play...a quickie here and there, maybe...but a distinct lack of leather and rope. A distinct lack of (my favorite kind of) pain.

Before Friday the 13th gave up the ghost, Master had me cuffed in leather, stringing paracord between the cuffs, making me one of my favorite things: helpless. I can't really adequately describe how Master had me bound, so you'll just have to pop over to FetLife where he'll be posting some photos like this one. We've really enjoyed lactation play, so we've worked to keep my production going (it's slowed way, way down, but there's milk no little person needs for us to play with), and last night Master crushed the milk from my breasts. It was deliciously painful and yummy, but "made" me need more.

He moved me to his bed, and took me from behind, leather belt crushing my middle, which for some reason makes it nearly impossible for me to orgasm. At least for me. Not sure why exactly, but with a belt crushing my abdomen, I just can't topple over into le petite mort from yummy, yummy sex. I have no idea when the day tipped into Valentines, or how long Master teased me about being unable to orgasm, while intermittently teasing me with the taser, making it cackle next to my ear before shoving it against my thigh, asking if he should use it...

I lay under him, gasping and twitching, and wanting more... And I apparently felt brave, because I asked for more. The Sadist in him was definitely delighted, and in moments, he had bound my breasts tightly with paracord, delivering five hard slaps to the top of each before shoving me back onto my face, forcing me to crush my tormented tits under me. It felt so wonderfully painful, I wanted to cry, but it was too...good. He shoved one of the steel jeweled plugs up my ass, and drove himself back into me...All that pain, and the pressure of him...and I twitched and wanted to be given permission to fall over the edge...

And then he teased me, loosing the belt, and then tightening it right when I wobbled on the precipice of orgasm. The bastard. ;) He went on like that for what seemed like forever.

Eventually, he gave the permission I so desperately wanted to be given (or desperately wanted him to withhold...either way, really)...

We tumbled together on his soaked satin sheets, spent, well out of Friday the 13th and on to the day of sweethearts. My chest was already blossoming into bruises, and Master said that he hoped I enjoyed the "blooming rosy bruises" for Valentines, as they'll be the only flowers I'll get this year.

Today they are glorious mix of purple and pink, with deep dark spots here and there, and I feel every earned little bruise...and I feel in love.