Home: July 2004 Archives

Friday, July 30, 2004
public and private

My darling angel,

It's been a while since my last letter, but as you know, life has a way of interfering with our plans.  I miss you, angel, and think of being with you constantly. I know things are chaotic in both our lives right now, but don't worry - this will pass.  And when things settle down, I want to spend an entire weekend with you, just talking, touching, and playing. 

We'll start off on the Friday night, having dinner and seeing a movie.  I'll tell you to wear a skirt and no panties, and I'll be doing my best to distract you. 

I'll make naughty suggestions during dinner, and watch you blush.  I'll run my foot up your calf and thigh under the tablecloth, and make you move your knees apart during dinner.  And you'll start to get excited.  When the waitress leaves after bringing our dinner, I'll start asking you questions about what you're feeling, and make you tell me.  You love to be forced to express your lust, don't you angel?  You get so embarrassed, but it turns you on so much.  After dinner, we'll walk to the theater, and I'll put my hand on your ass as we walk, making sure that I don't feel any panty lines.

Once the movie starts, I'll periodically touch your arm in the darkness.  The touch will be gentle, just enough so that you can feel the fingertips on your skin.  I'll watch your face as I do this, to see you close your eyes in reaction.  I'll lean over and whisper to you.  Whisper things that I want to do to you in the theater.  I'll tell you how I want to make you suck my cock, how I want to tie you up on your bed and tease you.  How I want to spank your lovely ass, with my hand, with the crop, or with the flogger.

I'll put my hand on your thigh, and move my fingers on the sensitive flesh there.  What will you do, angel?  Will you close your thighs around my fingers?  Or will you open your legs to allow me more access?  Will my hand move higher?  or will it stay where it is, teasing and tickling you?  I'll eventually move my fingers higher, and feel your wetness.  You will be wet, won't you?  You want me to tease you in public.  That's why you enjoy these letters so much, isn't it?
After the movie, we'll walk back to your place.  You'll be wet, and excited, on the trip home.  I'll walk slowly, window shopping.  I'll tease you, too, angel.  I'll tell you things I want you to do, and things I want to do to you.  I'll hold your hand, or put my arm around your shoulder, and hold you close to me.  I'll lift your chin and deeply kiss you, making sure that you know that I'm teasing you.

And once we're alone in the elevator, I'll push you up against the wall, and kiss you deeply.  My hands will reach under your skirt, and I'll play with your pussy as we go higher and higher in the building.  Will your breathing be a little ragged, angel?  Will you struggle when I start to reach for your skirt?  It doesn't matter, does it?  You want me to do this - you want to be touched, intimately, in a public place.

And once we return to the apartment, I'll put your collar on you, and continue the teasing.  I'll lift up your skirt, and start stroking your ass with my fingers.  Teasingly running them from your ankles to your pussy, and up across your ass.  Then down the other side, and back up again.  Each time, I'll reach between your legs, and insert a finger into your moistened pussy.
You'll whimper, won't you, angel?  You'll be standing there, in your living room, holding your skirt up, and whimpering.  You'll want more than this,  you'll need more than this.  And then I'll start to spank you.

Just a light spank, to start with.  As I do this, I'll watch your face, I'll watch for the surprise to hit you.  Then I'll spank the other cheek, and watch again.  I'll continue to run my hands over your body, continue to tease you.  I'll take your blouse and bra off, and have you stand with you hands on the coffee table, looking out over the city.  And I'll stand behind you, reaching around to play with your breasts.

One hand will be playing with a nipple, and the other one will start spanking you.  Not hard, just enough to let you know what's happening.  Then I'll stop spanking you, and continue teasing your breasts.  You know what will happen then, don't you angel.  Your ass will start to tingle.  I know you - it will start to tingle, and you will want more spanking.  I'll keep teasing you, and wait for you to ask for more spanking. 

Maybe I'll spank you as soon as you ask.  Maybe I'll make you beg for it.  It depends on my mood, and how good a girl you've been all evening.  If you've been saucy, teasing me and hassling me, like you usually do, then I'll make you beg.  If you've been a good sub, then maybe I'll immediately start spanking you more.

And as I spank you, I'll have you count the strokes.  How high will I go?  Will you get 20 strokes?  30?  Or will I go all the way to 50?  Do you think you could take 50 strokes on your ass, angel?  Could you stand still and let me spank you 50 times with my hand?  Or would you ask me to stop before then?  Would you use a safeword to get me to stop, or would you just beg me to stop? 

Ah, angel, I do miss spending time with you.  Life has conspired against us for a little while now, but it will settle down.  And when it does, I want to spend an entire weekend exploring that lovely, responsive body of yours. 

I'm looking forward to it, angel.


posted at 12:33 PM :: permalink :: Comments (1)
filed under stories

Monday, July 19, 2004
dreams and floggers

Dear angel,

I close my eyes at night, and dream of you.  Dreams sprinkled with giggles, moans, and the soft thud of leather on skin.

You sit at my feet, looking down.  Your eyes are closed as you listen to my voice.  I'm giving you instructions, and for some reason, I'm very excited by what's about to happen.  My words, surprisingly, are indistinct.  But your reaction is clear.  You start to giggle, and look up at me in disbelief.

I notice that your hands are bound behind your back.  I see that the soft cotton rope is tight around your wrists, and that you have very little ability to move them.  Your elbows are tied to your waist, and there is rope between your breasts, and crossing your shoulders.  You look like a pretty package, ready to be unwrapped and played with, but there is still the matter of your lesson.

I speak harshly to you, and your laughter quiets, and your gaze drops to my crotch.  I look down, and I can see my hard cock inches from your open mouth.  Already, your tounge darts out to lick your lips in anticipation.  I move closer to you, and you try to move forward but seem to be stopped by something.

Your ankles are bound together, and there is a rope running from them to your wrists.  I can see your naked ass, and the end of an anal plug emerging from your sphincter.  I order you to begin, and you take me in your mouth.

Oh darling, you so love to suck my cock, don't you?  You love to feel the hard length of it in your mouth, love the taste, and the smell.  I can feel your tongue on the shaft of my cock, as you tease the underside from tip to base.  Then your head pulls back, and I feel the flat of your tongue trace the same path in reverse.  Three or four times, you repeat this, then you stop to hold just the head in your mouth, as the tip of your tongue flicks at the slit of my penis.  God, it feels wonderful.

You begin to move your head back and forth again, sucking hard as you take me into your mouth.  I love the feeling of compression I get when you do that, and I know how proud you are to have learned to please me that way.  Again you stop to tease the tip of my penis.  You glance up at me while you are teasing, and I'm taken by how much you are getting out of this.

Then you start to giggle.

It's only a quick one, followed by a return to moving your head back and forth.  I'm puzzled by the giggle, but I'm also annoyed.  You're not doing as you were told.  You're not following instructions.  So, I raise the flogger, and swing it towards you.  I hear the thud of the leather against your skin.  I feel your surprise and gasp, as the sensation washes over you.  Once, twice, three times, I strike you,  each time just as you are about to take my cock into your mouth.

You pause and look up at me, and I look back, sternly.

"Do it right," I say, "Do it like I told you to"

You nod, never letting my cock escape your lips.  You return to your task, and I can now feel a vibration accompany the sensation of your tongue and lips.  Sensation washes through me, and I close my eyes, to concentrate on it.  Back and forth goes your head.  I reach down, and take the hair on the back of your head in my fist.  I can hear you moaning a little now, and open my eyes to see you start to squirm a little bit.  You can't move your legs apart, because I've tied the knees together.  In and out, tongue and lips, and that wonderful vibration.

Then you giggle again.

I'm faster with the flogger this time.  Once, twice, thrice, across your naked ass.  Faster and harder.  I feel you gasp, and moan a little.  Again, I hit you three times with the flogger, and I can see the redness begin to rise in your skin after I pause.  You're moaning more now, but still pumping your head back and forth on my cock.  As I punish you a third time for not following instructions, I see you collect yourself, and refocus on your task. 

Once again, that wonderful vibration begins, and I realize that you are humming a tune as you suck my cock.  I watch your face as you close your eyes, and focus on the sensation in my penis as I come closer to orgasm.  I look down at you, bound and aroused by me, and totally happy to be so, and I take your hair in my hand again.  As I come closer to orgasm, I begin to control the pace, forcing your head onto my cock instead of letting you push forward.  My hips begin to grind my cock into your mouth, and I can feel the head of my penis on the back of your throat.  An orgasm begins to come, rising from my feet, and I push your head faster and faster.  And all along, that wonderful humming continues.

Just before I start to come, I hear another giggle, but I'm too close, and I cum, filling your mouth with my seed.  You moan, and begin to swallow, sucking and licking all you can get from my cock.  I hold your head against me, feel the pulsing of my cock slow, and let go of your hair.  You suck the last bit of cum from my cock, and begin to kiss and lick the shaft of my penis.

I look down at you, as I recover from the orgasm, and I'm very pleased with you, but puzzled.

"Why did you giggle, angel?  Why couldn't you do it like I told you to?"  I ask you.  I'm surprised to find that I'm not disappointed with you for your actions.

Your eyes light up and you smile.  Then, with another giggle, you answer me, "Sir, I'm sorry.  I really, really tried, but I can't do it without giggling."

"But why not, angel?", I ask in confusion.

"Because I always giggle when I think of the 'Itsy Bitsy Spider', sir."

Little angel, it has been far to long since I've seen you.  I'm very much looking forward to being with you soon, and explaining to you the error of your ways.

Take care of yourself,


posted at 03:53 PM :: permalink :: Comments (0)
filed under stories

Monday, July 12, 2004
denial and labels

Dear angel,

I'm so happy that I've found you. But I have to confess something to you. I have to admit a terrible fact about myself. I am not a Dom. Well, I don't think of myself that way, anyways.

You see, whenever I think of "A Dom", I get a picture in my head of someone wearing leather, carrying handcuffs, and swinging a whip or a paddle. Someone that doesn't relate to his partners, and has strict, arbitrary rules for them, which he enforces with glee. A man much more interested in taking pleasure from his partner, than in the giving of pleasure. And I don't think that's anything like me at all.

It's funny, because most of the dominant men that I've met in this lifestyle aren't like that. But that's the image that persists in my head whenever the word Dom arises in conversation. And that makes me think about my own preconceived notions about Dominants, submissives, and other kinky folks. What are these notions, and where do they come from? And more importantly, how can I work on them to ensure that I treat people as individuals, and not stereotypes?

To clarify my self image: When I think of myself, I picture a kinky, average looking man, who likes to tease and control willing women. I think of myself as curious, and always looking for new experiences to share with you. I have read a great deal of material on BDSM, and tried many different things over the decades. But I've never really thought of myself as a Dom.

Interestingly, I don't think of you as a "sub". You're my girl, my kinky, submissive girlfriend, my partner, and my equal. Yes, I know, many others who read this may be surprised that I think this way, but you are my equal in this relationship. (Gads - I said a chick word - "relationship"! They're going to take away my union card if I keep this up. ) I want an equal partner. It makes your submission sweeter if I respect you. It makes it more delicious for both of us, I think. And after all, if I didn't respect you, then why would I want to be with you?

Human relations are complicated, and frequently muddled by the opinions or rules of others. I make a conscious effort to define myself by what I do and don't do, what I will and won't accept of myself. It's a very self contained philosophy, and not easy to maintain. There are always people who will tell you what you are supposed to do, what you should call yourself, and what you do that is outside of their definition of you. I've never been comfortable being labelled. I'm Neko, just me. You're my angel, and I cherish every hour I spend with you, no matter what we're doing. And that's what makes this so wonderful for me.

I am your Neko, the one who wants to take you every time he sees you. The one who wants to make you cry out in your bedroom, alternating between begging for more, and fearing for it. The one who loves to play with rope, and leather, and cold metal chain. I'm the man who wants to hold you and cuddle with you, and tease you when we're out together. The man who wants to protect you, and comfort you, and make you crazy with desire.

You're my angel, the woman who wants to please me, who wants to spend time with me. You're the woman who I want to please. The woman that wants me to touch her, softly and gently sometimes, and other ways at other times. The woman who wants me to hold her, and to hold her down. A woman who wants me to take my pleasure from her, and rejoices in the pleasure that I give to her.

We walk together, each leaning on the other. And I thank you for every moment that you spend in my life, angel.


posted at 03:37 PM :: permalink :: Comments (0)
filed under musings

Thursday, July 08, 2004

Dearest angel,

It can be sweet torture to wait. Waiting is an important skill to learn, don't you think? We wait for things every day. We wait for the light to change. We wait for a phone call. We wait for an email. We wait for a lover's touch.

You were so sweet the other night. Your skin is so soft, and you are so sensitive to my gentle touches. It was immensely gratifying to explore your body, and hear the things you were saying. Such naughty words, dear angel. I didn't think that you knew what those words meant, until you said that. And watching your face change when I chuckled at you was delicious.

Did you know that your expression changed? You're such a sweet, shy girl most of the time we're together, but that night, as I sat above you, holding you down, you were a totally different person. You squirmed as my mouth tasted your breasts. You moaned as I suckled on your nipples. And you writhed, and begged as I watched, totally focussed on what I was doing, totally focussed on what would make me keep doing it.

Did I surprise you with the collar when I came in? You were so shy when I told you to take it from my pocket. We were going out later, and I know you felt the fear that I'd tell you to wear it out to dinner. What would the other guests think? What would the waiter think? Or the taxi driver? Does the idea of being collared in public make you squirm? The idea that you're bound, and submitting to my will, and no one around you knows, make you flush, and breathe heavily? Does the fact that Vikki McKay and others are reading this make your heart pound? It was so nice of Vikki to link our letters, don't you think? Should I send her a thank you? Or should I make YOU thank her?

You tried to put the collar on yourself, but couldn't quite manage it. When I left that night, leaving the collar hanging on the post of your bed to remind you, did you try it on when you were alone? Did you try to practice putting it on yourself? Did you wear my collar and remember what it felt like to be taken and possessed by me? I know you wanted to. I know that you sat and stared at it, remembering the feel of the leather around your neck, the weight of the ring against your collarbone. You looked at it, and you remembered it, and you bit your lip with wanting.

When we were sitting at dinner, I asked you to talk about your business with me. I really want to know about you, angel. I want to know about the whole angel, not just my submissive girl. So, I let you talk, and you showed me how good you were at your profession. I asked you questions about strategy, about marketing. You were an excellent teacher, and I was impressed with your confidence, and your competence. You talked, and I listened, and you showed a totally different side of yourself.

And then, when I decided that you'd taught me enough for one evening, I just looked at you. And that shy, sweet angel came back. And you blushed, and squirmed, and started looking at your food, as I watched you. You leaned up against me in the taxi, feeling safe and cared for. And in the elevator, on the way to your apartment, when I pushed you up against the mirror, and kissed you, you moaned low in your throat, and I chuckled, knowing what you wanted, knowing how badly you needed me to touch you, and knowing that you'd be frustrated but happy by the time I left that night.

Time will come, soon enough, little one. The time will come when you will get all you were asking for. You'll get all those nasty, rude things that you were begging me for. In fact, you may get more than you were asking for. I have such a creative imagination when it comes to you.

I'm looking forward to then, my angel.


posted at 07:34 PM :: permalink :: Comments (0)
filed under events

Monday, July 05, 2004
expectations and reality

My dear angel,

The dynamics of a relationship that includes domination and submission are often both simpler and more complex than the so-called "normal" relationship.

On the one hand, the roles taken by each participant require certain mindsets to be adopted. For the dominant partner, a great deal of thought, effort, and observation is required. He has to pay attention to his partner's actions, her reactions, and her emotions. He has to think of creative ways to punish AND reward his girl. It can take a great deal of effort to maintain control at all times, without overstepping the boundaries of the relationship and falling into abusive or hurtful patterns. And he must make his girl feel secure and safe in her place. This can be harder than it seems.

The submissive has to be able to trust her partner to tell her what she must do. She must trust him to be honest and open with her about his feelings of pride, disappointment, or displeasure with her. She must understand where she has succeeded in pleasing him, and where she has failed him - and how to correct this. She must feel that her submission is treasured, and that she is cherished, or the relationship will not work over the long term. After all, we're all human, aren't we?

This communication, this trust, takes time to develop. It takes time for each partner to learn where they stand, to learn what works, and what doesn't. There will be mistakes. There will be disappointments, in ourselves, and in each other. But for the relationship to work, we must be forgiving. Forgiving of each other, for not knowing, or for making mistakes. And forgiving of ourselves, for not living up to our ideas of what we should be able to do, or for not being able to say what we need at a particular point in time.

Relationships that include BDSM elements in them can be very intimate. There is a possibility of forging a connection that goes beyond the surface, and down to the bones. These connections make us stronger, make us more confident in the outside world. A strong connection like this can make us more willing to take risks in other areas of our lives. But there is a commensurate risk of hurting each other. Because we are dealing with such fundamental, raw parts of ourselves, we can accidentally, or through ignorance, cause severe emotional damage. The only way to avoid that is to communicate our feelings to each other.

I cherish you. That means that I cherish all of you. From the tip of your nose, to the balls of your feet. From your fears, to your pet peeves, to your joys, and to your strengths. Maybe I'm being foolish, but I try to look at the whole person, and accept them as they are. I accept both the good and bad of each person in my life - and I do my best to be worthy of the friendship offered to me. I promise to do my best to be an honourable, and honest man, so that I deserve your trust and companionship.

When you have pleased me, I will tell you. When you have disappointed me, I will tell you. When you deserve reward, I will be lavish. When you need punishment, I will be compassionate - but firm. But in return, I ask that you trust me enough to tell me when I make a mistake.

In contrast, many "normal" relationships can be fraught with frustration for one or both partners. Frequently, there is no frank discussion of expectations or roles or acceptable behaviour. There is no acknowledgement of needs on either side. In fact, there can frequently be miscommunications on the subject of what is needed or wanted by one of the partners. The sad thing is that this is entirely avoidable.

There is often a great deal of should used in communications about sex. "I shouldn't like this, but ..." "She should find a partner that does..." or "Sex should be like...". This, of course, is the way to disappointment. For many people, I think that the idea of sex is bounded by rules, expectations, and shame. People frequently get it into their heads that certain things are dirty, or not acceptable, because other people have told them so.

But this ignores the fact that people are individuals. People have their own personalities, made up - in part - of the sum of their experiences. Every one of us has different needs, different expectations, and different desires. So how do we judge what is "right" and what is "wrong".

Some people put their faith in a religion. They let someone else do the thinking for them, and tell them what is right or wrong. Some people remove all barriers, and accept that anything goes. Both of these positions strike me as lazy. On the one hand, you let others tell you, so you don't have to decide for yourself. On the other hand, you don't disapprove of anything, so you don't have to make any decisions. I think that the true path is somewhere in the middle.

If I am not causing harm to another, then I'm not doing something wrong. If my actions help someone feel secure, strong, and cherished, then how can they be wrong? If my actions help someone grow in themselves, become more independent, and more accepting of their faults while still wanting to correct them, then how can I be doing wrong? If you wish to let someone else take control of your actions, of your sensations, and they don't abuse abuse that control, then it's not wrong.

It comes down to trust and communications - you can't have one without the other. I trust you to let me know your limits, to let me know when something isn't working. You trust me to tell you what to do, to respect your limits, and to push you to do things within those limits. We've got a very good start, darling. We've got a good foundation to work on, and I intend to continue to improve on it. I trust you to work on improving it as well. I know you want to, and I know you will.

You are a darling and wonderful girl, and I am very happy to have you in my life.


posted at 03:50 PM :: permalink :: Comments (0)
filed under observations

Sunday, July 04, 2004

Good morning, my angel.

You were so sweet, so shy the other night. Your eyes betrayed you, though.

The movie was okay. We both had things to say about different parts. We liked it, but we saw flaws. Like so many other things. And on the way home, you ranted about it. It was so cute. You were up on a soapbox, telling me what you didn't like about it, and I watched you, amused, and impressed, by your passion. Was this nervousness? Were you worried about what was coming?

We walked home to your apartment from the theater, and you held my hand, and listened to me, and talked to me. I teased you, gently, with my words. I kissed you hungrily when you apologized to me for ranting. I was ready to take you, and you were ready to be taken. I could feel the hunger in your touch, in the way you held me when I kissed you.

Then we were at your apartment. Your breathing quickened, catching in your throat. I watched your pulse race as I touched your face, gently stroking my fingers across your skin. Your eyes closed, and you let the feeling wash over you. I kissed you, and felt you struggle against your feelings.

"I don't think I'm ready for this", you told me.

"Ready for what, angel? Sex, or ..." I paused, letting your imagination fill in the details.

You bit your lip before answering. "I don't think I'm ready for sex. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, angel. I can wait. I want you to be sure, I want you to be ready, and I want you to enjoy it." I told you. I was serene. I knew you wanted me. I knew you wanted all that I could offer. The gentle touch, the kisses, and everything else I'd been talking to you about on the phone for the past while. I could wait until you were ready. I could wait till you were sure.

But you didn't want to wait. You were disappointed in yourself. So I stayed, and we cuddled and kissed, and talked. And all the while, I kept touching you - here, there, under there. As we cuddled and talked, you relaxed. You started touching me back. Touching my chest, touching my face. Touching my leg. When you touched my thigh, I knew you were ready.

"Angel" I said to you. You turned to face me. "Would you like to touch me? Would you like to feel my cock in your hand?" Instantly, your eyes dropped. You pressed your face against my shoulder.

"Yes", you replied, in a small voice.

"Say please, angel", I told you, chiding you gently for not asking properly.

"Yes please, sir" you replied, again in a small voice.

I took your hand, and placed it on my hardening cock. You stroked it through the material of my jeans, and I could hear the breath catch in your throat.

"Oh, it feels so hard", you told me, stroking the member gently. I could feel your fingers probing gently, pushing against the cock.

"It's not hard yet - it's only three quarters hard" I told you, stroking your neck. Quickly your eyes looked at mine, and I nodded, confirming what I'd said. You looked down again, shy or ashamed. I was delighted. I lifted your chin, and kissed you possessively on your mouth. "And it's hard because of you", I told you. At that point, the look in your eyes told me you were approaching the point of no return.

You gasped when I gently stroked your breasts. My fingers traced patterns on your skin, so lightly, but I could see the effect they were having. I could see your eyes close, through your hair. You hid behind your hair, but I could see you give up control to me. A thrill ran through me.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you angel?" I asked, growling your name a little bit. You hesitated, as your hand stroked my now fully hard cock. Then you gave a quick nod, like you were either ashamed of enjoying my attentions, or ashamed of what else you wanted me to do to you.

"It makes you feel all wet and squirmy, doesn't it, angel", I asked you. You nodded again, and buried your face in my shoulder. But your hand kept stroking my cock, and your legs were tightly closed together. You looked like a woman trying to keep control of herself, afraid of embarassing yourself. I gently stroked your nipple, through the material of your shirt.

"Open your legs for me, angel" I told you. You looked into my eyes, pleading silently for me to not make you do this. Pleading with me to keep making you do this. Caught in the contradiction, naked lust burning there along side shame. "Open your legs, now, angel" I repeated, pointedly looking at them.

Hesitantly, slowly, you spread your legs apart. Reluctantly, you opened yourself to me, opened your most private self to me. My hand reached down, and your eyes followed, as I stroked the inside of your thigh, from knee to crotch. Your eyes closed again, as I pushed my fingers against your pussy, through your pants. I could feel the heat there. I was sure that you were soaked. And still, you held my cock in your hand, like a woman in a dream. Up and down, you stroked. Squeezing the shaft, gently. Tracing the head of it through my pants.

"Would you like to feel it in your hand, angel? Would you like to feel its heat, its hardness?", I asked you. And with my words, I pushed against your pussy, hard.

Gasping, you answered me. "Oh yes"

"Ask me nicely, angel", I told you.

"Yes, sir. May I please hold your cock in my hands, sir?"

"Good girl" I answered you, and you shuddered a little in pleasure. There was a glow to your face now. You were giving in to your lust, giving in to the attraction you felt, the first time I walked in to the coffee shop to meet you. I had taken control, and you revelled in it. You closed your legs and whimpered a little as I undid my pants and took out my now hard cock.

"Open those legs, angel" I commanded you. You spread them again, whimpering, and reached for my cock, wrapping your hand around it. I could feel the cool of your fingers against its heat, felt your hesitation. I reached down, and wrapped my hand around yours, squeezing your hand around it firmly. You took the hint, and your grip grew firmer.

You were mine.


posted at 12:04 PM :: permalink :: Comments (0)
filed under events

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