(Gardener's note: Another Friday, another FFF Challenge from Ram The Sunlover. The challenge this time: 129 words or less, using somewhere in the story a word that, when spelled backwards, has a different meaning and writing about the following picture.)
Image: source unknown
My butler brought her into the room. Blindfolded in the limo, she knew not where she was. My chauffeur had taken a winding route back to the estate. She only knew I would be at the end of the journey.
(Gardener's note: A bit of a change of pace-I hope you enjoy it!)
Let me get this out there right off. I'm a Christian-I always have been, I always will be and I am not ashamed of it. Why am I so emphatic about it? It's because, if you are reading this, you are probably more in touch with my other side... my kinky, slave/wife owning, BDSM side. You'll probably wonder how I can reconcile both sides of my personality. Well, that's another story for another day. Today I want to relate a funny incident that happened a while back.
(Gardener's note: It's been a busy week for me, and I finally have the chance to continue on with the story of Tony and Sandy. Enjoy!)
Tony looked around to see where he could place Sandy. He decided to bend her over the spanking bench to start. He steered her over to the bench and shoved her over it, so she was just about doubled over. “Spread your legs, bitch” Tony ordered, then turned to her toy cabinet to retrieve some items. He came back with a set of cuffs and a collar. Tony knelt down and proceeded to secure the ankle cuffs on both feet, then took the attached double chain snaps and secured them to eyebolts on the legs of the bench. Sandy's legs were now obscenely stretched
(Gardener's note: When I started this blog,it was to present a story I had been working on for a while. I asked for a little advice from a "talented amateur" (think Emma Peel in The Avengers... the TV version, not that dreadful train wreck of a film.) As she confirmed my suspicions, I put that project on the back burner and decided to relaunch this blog to get some more practice on shorter projects. However, I feel some elements of that project can stand on their own (with a little editing.) This is the first part of one of them. Let me know what you think.)
Tony wasn't sure of what he was going to do to Sandy just yet. He didn't like elaborate and detailed scripts for his scenes. Being impromptu and seizing on opportunities was more his style, and Sandy just couldn't get enough of his style. Tony always seemed to know how to push the emotional envelope with his submissive while stopping just before the “line.” Sandy especially loved not knowing what was going to happen. She really got off off on the uncertainty and even fear as to what would happen next.
(Gardener's note: I've been hoping to get to do something like this, so I'm glad the FFF Challenge is continuing, courtesy of Ram The Sunlover. The challenge this time: 255 words or less, using "too many" somewhere in the story and writing about the following picture. Here is my first effort.)
Image: source unknown
Terry found himself in a position he had wound up in too often. Older women were always hitting on him; and by old, he meant at least as old as his mother. Some might say it was wrong or even sick to be attracted to older women. They didn't know what Terry knew.
(Gardener's Note: I'd like to introduce you to George and Sharon. They've been living inside my head for a long, long time. Now that I have this nice little corner of the Internet, I figured it was time to let them come out and play. As we go on, we'll learn more about this very interesting couple, but for now, let's just peek in on a typical (?) day:)
It was a brutal day for Sharon. What started out as a quiet Thursday went completely sideways when news broke of potential scandal involving one of her clients at the marketing agency where she worked. She spent most of the morning and the entire afternoon in emergency meetings, barking orders at her staff and fielding calls from her panicked client. She dictated press releases, scheduled interviews and got her client’s side of the story out as quickly as she knew how. By the time the national news programs had aired on the East coast, Sharon had gotten her client back out in front of the scandal-for now.
He watched her come in and sit at the bar-the same stool she sat at every time. She ordered her drink and pulled out a ten, laying it on the bar. He had observed her so carefully he knew everything she would do in the next thirty minutes, although he would dictate how the last twenty went.
I'm trying something that's new to me. Writing BDSM-themed erotica, that is. I've gotten tired of all the hack stuff that looks like it was written with one hand on the keyboard and one hand on the joystick, ifyouknowwhatImean. I'll tell you, it is tough to be literate, grammatically correct and erotic, but I've decided to give it a whirl.
If you like what I read, let your friends know (and I hope we become friends.) If you don't, let me know, for how else will I improve if I don't have feedback.
As for me, I'm old enough to qualify for many (but not all) senior discounts. I am a dominant, but due to my slave/wife having had severe medical issues the past five years, I've been a caregiver more than an owner. We're looking to return to our former dynamic, but we know there's a long road ahead.