Flash! Boom! Fizzle!!!

This could have been a picture of us last night. We had a tremendous lightning storm, followed by rain that washed out roads, alleys and driveways. One blast of lightning went off so close that I didn’t even get to “One Thousand” before the thunder deafened me. Three blasts later, everything went dark. It knocked out power around 4pm. We finally got power back around 10pm. It was late enough, that we just went to bed.

What we didn’t realize is that the internet was also knocked out. So, we got up this morning and I had planned to write. Well, at first we thought that the storm had just knocked our modem for six. Nope. Wolf checked, and while all was alright with our equipment, there was no “mom” to call home to. I called our ISP, and sure enough, there was an “area wide outage.”

So we waited. We did other things. At one point, Wolf drove down to a hot spot he knew of that had fiber. Yes, they had a connection. He hopped on for a little as he had a hangout he needed to attend. Meanwhile, I listened to music on my tablet that I had previously downloaded.

Then I heard a beep. The internet had returned!!!

So, hopefully, if life throws no more curve balls, I should have a story up in a day or so. Vortex needs a new chapter. :)



Flash Fiction Friday Service

Her entrance should have been amazing, but not silent. She’d been bathed and dressed precisely to the standards that Lord Duncan desired. As the clock chimed, she’d stood up, opened the sliding doors and waited. Waited in silence as her nipples crinkled. Her panties were damp. Her body hummed with anticipation. Standing there in visual darkness, knowing herself exposed to the world had her body on the edge of orgasm.

She didn’t understand why there was silence. Not daring to move, she kept her body poised. Chest high, legs just so. She strained to hear if there was anyone else in the room. No sound. No scent except floor polish and a faint scent of lime. Her pulse began to race, and a sheen of sweat broke out on her skin. Were they displeased with her? Her body vibrated with need.

“Come,” said a deep voice.

She exploded in orgasm.




Lord Duncan waited. Her entrance had been perfectly timed. She stood, poised like a marble diva. He smiled. She did well, her body barely gave any clue to her distress. She’d been told that there would be someone waiting for her when she appeared.

The five gentlemen buyers waited in perfect silence. They watched her reactions to silence. Perky nipples and the enticing aroma of wet pussy wafted towards them. Each lifted a card with a bid written on it. Two men bowed out.

“Come,” said Lord Duncan.

Her orgasm was explosive. Holding the doorframe, her knees nearly buckled and the scent of her made the three men scrabble for their bid cards. Each wrote a number. Lord Duncan smiled and pointed to the man on the left. He handed Duncan a card which was swiped and returned.

While the other men left, he walked forward and claimed his prize.





I wasn’t sure where to take this one at first. Part of it sang of Upstairs, Downstairs. Yet in my mind it was clearly an auction. In stepped Lord Duncan and Poof! :) I put six other people in the room besides her. As for bonus… nah. Not this time. Done in 27 minutes.

Our challenge this week was:


Keywords: entrance or exit, but not both.

Forbidden words: blindfold, slave, slut

Bonus words: tell us about your first experience with a blindfold or sensory deprivation.

Extra credit: put more than two people in the room, but don’t let the extras touch.

Word count: 150 words from her perspective and 150 from another

Twisted Delights (2)

James spent the summer reading the diary, and discovering just how perverted R, G and J really were. He laughed when he realized that the three people in the paints in the main hall were those same individuals. Today, his mission was to get into the Greek folly.

After ditching Alice and the footman, he took the set of keys hanging by the back door and headed out into the gardens. There were vegetables, herbs and flowers on the gardens close to the manse. A huge patio with a low railing looked out over the formal lawns. Off in the distance, hidden by a lilac hedge was the folly.

Follies, those quaint odd buildings that Englishmen were so enamored with usually were modeled after temples or castles. This one was a Greek temple. It took three tries to find the right key. Opening the door was a challenge as the hinges were stiff. Once inside, he turned on his electric torch. The light played over dusty statues, old furniture and other oddities. Moving closer, he realized that some of the statues were…

“Fucking? Fucking statues?” James laughed. It didn’t take him long to figure out that the folly must have been built by Ralph Burleigh, his very distant ancestor. Walking around he found a a large marble altar, complete with shackles still attached. He wondered just what it had been used for. He’d have to check the diary and see if anything had been said. After a brief look at a latticed covered wall, he locked the building up and headed back to the manse.


“Lookit you! Covered in muck. Where you bin?”

“I was digging around in one of the old outbuildings near the barn, Nanny Alice.”

She ruffled his hair, sending a shower of dust everywhere. “Go clean up. Tea’s ready.”

James smiled and headed upstairs.


After tea, he dug out the diary.


Dear Diary,


We had the most lovely party. Everyone dressed up and we played a lovely game of hide the cock! If you were found, you were tupped. If you weren’t, you got to pick who tupped you. Then, towards the end, we were in the temple. Ralph and James tied me to the marble altar and took turns tupping me in front of all the guests. It was terrifying and so exciting all at the same time.


James masturbated furiously while thinking about what had been written in the diary. When he finished, he cleaned up and tucked the little book back into his book case.


The summer went too quickly, and before he knew it, it was time to leave. He locked the tower and hid the keys in his own room. It would be some time before he returned. He hugged Nanny Alice, said goodbye to the rest of the staff and headed off to Woolwich.

The Royal Military Academy was rough. Training was hard, and the fights within the ranks could be brutal. The outbreak of World War II meant that training went from theory to reality. James moved up in the academic ranks. His small size, barely 5ft 5inches, made him the cadet most likely to be beaten.

He’d barely gotten out of the shower when a pillowcase dropped over his head, and a belt tightened around it. Rough hands shoved him onto a bench, and held his legs apart. He knew what was coming as he’d seen some of the other cadets receive the same treatment. Face down on the bench, he felt the warm spit hit his ass, moments before the first hard cock thrust it’s way in. James gritted his teeth so as not to cry out. He tried to relax his body to lessen the possibility of injury. One cadet had ended up in hospital with a torn rectum because he’d struggled.

By the third cock, his ass was greased with cum. When the last one finished, he lay there trying to recover. James pulled off the belt and pillowcase and headed back to the shower. At some point he’d cum himself, and was a sticky mess.


Three nights later, James had his revenge. He’d known the voices of his rapists. One by one, he hunted them down and returned the favour. The last one he left tied to the banister of the main staircase. A riding crop had been stuffed up the cadet’s ass, and a sign reading “Bugger me senseless” was taped to his back.


A week later, James left with ninety cadets to Palestine. Most of them were due to enter the S.A.S. once the short tour of duty was finished. They were there to run errands and deliver messages. It also got them out of England were the bombs were landing in the countryside like rain drops.

While he was there, James discovered women and covert operations. He excelled at both. James realized that he shared some of his ancestors kinky ideas on what constituted good sex. Courier during the day and playboy at night lead him to discover the shadowy underworld of the military spy. Information he learned while fucking the French ambassador’s maid was traded for tips from the Soviet attaché and for possible troop movements from the Americans. That he didn’t mind what sex he fucked or was fucked by made him a very desirable commodity. As the war came to a close, James moved up in rank and responsibility. He moved into the 21st Battalion, S.A.S. and became an expert in counter terrorism and special ops. James also became a Dom, after a very interesting weekend in Soho.

Assisted Living

This one is all Nilla’s fault, and I’m sticking to this story!


“Have you seen Mrs. Townson?”

“You mean Agnes? Five foot nothing? Dirty sense of humor and long gray braids?” asked the second staff nurse at the assisted living home.

“Yeah, that’s her. I went to see how she was as I hadn’t seen her all day. Her apartment is empty.”

“Well, did she have visitors? Go on one of the day trips?” Betsy began to look through the travel roster. As the Village was assisted living, not a nursing home, people could come and go as they pleased. She always thought of the place as a fancy hotel with rather old clients.

“I’m not seeing anything. Guess I should check around. Does she have anyone she hangs out with?”

Betsy thought for a moment. “Ummm, sometimes she visits Ms. Greene up on the third floor, and then there’s her ‘boyfriend’.”

“Boyfriend?” Nancy was totally puzzled. “Who are you talking about?”

“Jerry Greene. He’s on 2NW. Apartment 69. He’s been here about a month, and the two of them gravitated to each other.

“Betsy, you don’t think?” Nancy started.

Betsy laughed. “If either one of them is up to it, more power to them!”

“Should… should I check?” Nancy wasn’t sure how she stood on the idea of old people having sex. She was 36, and barely had time for a quickie once a week. The thought of two people in their 80′s having sex was just… so wrong!

“Yeah. Can’t hurt. We do need to find her before dark.” Betsy smiled and headed off to the cafeteria.


Nancy walked down the hall, and took the elevator to the second floor. When she got to his door, she listened for a minute and didn’t hear anything. The last thing she wanted was to interrupt people. It would be so embarrassing. There was no noise except for some classical music. She knocked.

“Chust a minute!” came a voice from the other side of the door.

Nancy waited. She knew old people moved slowly, but she was about to knock again when the door opened. Mr. Greene stood there in his bathrobe with black slippers on his feet.


“Oh. Mr. Greene, did I interrupt a nap?”

“Why yes. What do you need?”

“Well, um… we can’t seem to find Mrs. Townson. Have you seen her?”

Mr. Greene smiled. “Why yes. At breakfast and a leetle after.”

“Oh, alright. If… if you see her again before supper, let her know that Betsy is looking for her.” Nancy went a bit pink, as the look Mr. Greene gave her made her nervous. Embarrassed.

“I certainly will. Good bye.” He stepped back into the apartment and shut the door.

Not knowing what else to do, Nancy headed back downstairs.


Mr. Greene walked back into the bedroom and shed his bathrobe. Underneath it, he wore black leather trousers, a leather vest and nothing else. He pulled the half mask back over his face and picked the small leather strap out from under the bed. He opened the closet. Agnes hung from a St. Andrew’s cross fitted into the closet. She turned to look at him, a ball gag filled her mouth.

“They’re looking for you Agnes. I sent them off.”

She nodded and braced for the strap to land on her ass.

“Now where were we?” he asked. “Ah yes. Twenty-three!” He swung the strap, which added to the pattern of bruises on Agnes’ ass. Juices flowed down her wrinkled thighs and his erection bulged beneath his leather trousers.

She moaned with passion.

Flash Fiction Friday Higher Ed.

“I’ve had it. One more time, and I’ll lose it.”

“Right. We’ve been screwing on my desk for how long?”

“Six years, fifteen weeks, and two days.” She was tapping her fingers on said desk, blotter replete with cum stains from yesterday.

“You’ve never complained before.” He sighed.

“Yes, I have. You’ve taped my mouth shut, stuffed my undies in for a gag, and turned up the radio.”

“You said you wanted to be submissive.”

“I’m tired of bruises on my hips, ass and breasts from your desk, not your hand or that damn riding crop of yours!”

He laughed. “Oh, let’s get down to the real issue. You don’t want to share. Or should I say you don’t want to be passed around like a bottle of cheap wine.”

She fumed. He had been using her abominably. Last time he’d let forty-five undergrads use her. It had been disgusting. Cum dripping down her thighs, and a nasty little STD. The worst though had been the comments about her using her body to buy a degree. Those snot nosed, pimple faced jerks didn’t even recognize that she was the head of the department!

He leaned forward and patted her hand. “Just relax. We can always stuff a pillow under your ass.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, that’s what I do to you.” He stood up and walked out, jogging a little to catch up to a student.

She followed him. Standing in the middle of the grounds, she ripped off her dress. “Better look! This is the last time you see me, or this institution!”

He turned, looked, and laughed.


Well, I’m late. Granted, I have a rather good excuse as far as I’m concerned. I have a new desk. :) No Advizor, no pics. You’ll just have to imagine me sitting at my new desk, breeze wafting across my skin, sunlight a warm glow in the room and the smile on my face.

For the record, I couldn’t download the pic. I’m going to try and link to it, but if you readers can’t see the pic, head over to Advizor’s blog and take a peek.

Today’s challenge:

Key Words: One More Time

Word Limit: 269

Forbidden Words: Professor, Tears, Road

Extra Credit: Take off your shirt as you write

Bonus Words: Send someone a picture of you writing

Stormy Sex


The clouds rolled in, grew dark and began to spit rain. Lightning flickered in the clouds. Lynne and Quin watched the storm for a few minutes as they relaxed in bed. The breeze tickled Lynne’s nipples and made them crinkle up.

“Hmmm, maybe I should warm you up.”


Quin wrapped his lips around her nipple and alternated between sucking and biting.

“Oh! Oh!” she gasped.

He laughed a throaty chuckle and moved one hand down her belly until he could stroke her clit. Held ‘in place’ by his teeth on her nipple, she tried to squirm, but couldn’t. If she orgasmed, he might bite harder. She finally wriggled around enough to grasp Quin’s cock. It was his turn to gasp. He let go of her nipple and concentrated on fingering her clit and pussy.

Lynne ached to come, but every time she got close, Quin backed off. Finally, she moved around and sucked his cock deep into her mouth.

“Ddddamn,” he gasped. It took him a moment to claw his way back to enough control to continue playing with her. It didn’t take long for him to bring her to a gasping, arching orgasm. As she sat up, and let go of his cock, he turned and pulled her to him. She straddled him and his cock slid into her damp pussy just as a flash of lightning lit the room.

“Oh wow…”

“Cock or lightning?” he asked as he thrust upward and pulled her tight to him.


He laughed. Thunder rumbled.


As they rocked back and forth, thunder and lightning increased. Flashes lit the sky and thunder rattled the windows. The storm was building right along with their own pleasure. Lynne bounced, holding her breasts as Quin grasped her hips tighter as he thrust upward in time with her. She could feel her pleasure build and Quin’s. It was like a heat building up, and she knew he was about to spill over. Tightening her inner muscles, she pushed his senses over the edge.

“Aaaagh!” he cried out as a blinding flash of lightning lit the sky.

“Oh! Oh! Ohhhmy!” Lynne cried out a few seconds later followed by the loudest thunderclap of the storm. It was a deafening noise that rattled the windows. More lightning and thunder lit the sky and rumbled as the two of them twitched and orgasmed.

Lynne collapsed to one side, with a silly grin on her face. The two of them laid there and watched the storm. “Do you think we needed that?”

“Oh yeah!” Then he started laughing.


“I think Thor thought we needed that too.” He kept on giggling until Lynne was laughing too.

“I want to test a theory.”


Quin leaned over and began to tease her clit. He brought her to the brink of orgasm three times before she finally burst. A flash of lighting accompanied her. The thunder almost drown out her cries of pleasure. Quin did it again with the same results.

“I love you, you bastard,” she gasped after the third orgasm.

“I know.”

They curled up under the covers and watched the storm until they both fell asleep.



He’d shut his phone off, and locked the bedroom door. There had been one interruption after another and it was getting on his nerves. Kayla was waiting for him wearing a brand new baby doll nighty. Lots of lace, sheer panels and just a bit cheeky. Sitting down on the bed, he motioned for her to lay across his lap. Kayla did, and she felt him caress her ass through the silky panties. Then his hand came down hard.



“Three.” He continued on until he reached 20. He soothed Kayla’s reddened ass and then stood her up.

“Only 33 more to go Daddy.”

“Yes, and you are doing very well.” Even though it was his birthday, she got the spankings.


Ding Dong! Ding Dong!


“Who is at the door this time?” He grabbed his bathrobe and headed downstairs to the front door. When he got there, there was a big box on the front porch. There was no sign of any delivery person either.

“Kayla, did you order anything?”

“No Daddy.” She too had put on a robe and had come down stairs.

“Well, this box is too big to get in the door. I need a box cutter.” He headed to the kitchen and got one out of the drawer. He came back and before he cut the box, he noticed it had a tag on it that said, “Pull to Open.”
He pulled the tag, and to his surprise, the box began to unfold. Inside were four people dressed as Vikings. The one in front handed him a scroll. On it it said: “Happy Birthday Southern Sir! Love from all your Blogging friends.” He smiled, and the quartet began to sing: