A Love/Sex Text to Me

You know? I’m a let you know. I like being around you and always have. I think you’re a very smart woman. Fukn tough and sexy. When I’m chilling with you at your spot there are these moments that come that seem like we are both at that moment silent, yet weird feeling. I am comfortable and yet nervous. Not saying much for fear of sounding like  an idiot. But there are time like I just want to lay next to you and hold you, breathing deeply and slowly, you know? And you can feel and release the bullshit with each exhale. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you melt in relaxation. That’s what I feel like doing to you. No words. No restraints. Just understanding and experiencing what it feels like to hold you. Neither of us speaking. Just slowly touching and rubbing your neck and shoulders down your back, your hips. My hands around your waist lightly rubbing the middle of your back and up the sides of your body.

I could go on but it would be too much. Anyway, you make me weird.



Images subject to copyright 2016  by Ms. Adams.

matt behind stylized

Images subject to copyright. Copyright 2016 by Ms. Adams.



He handed me a small spiral, black Caliber memo book. “I wrote to you today.” He didn’t look me in the eyes. I grinned and reached for the notebook. He was on his way out so he wouldn’t be around to experience me while I read. Greedily, I opened the notebook as soon as the front door was shut behind him. The first page is unrelated to all the rest of the pages. He scribbled my name in the margin of the second page but it wasn’t so much a letter as it was a list. Of sorts.

I read the pages in the order and manner he wrote them. Somewhat repetitive, disorganized discourse.

OTK Bare Bottom Spanking

by hand, hairbrush, paddle, cane, etc.

rewards / punishments

any rule broken = 1 demerit

1 demerit = 25 smacks

punishment administered nightly

at end of week, total number of days punished = 25 smacks administered sat or sun evening

cumming without permission = 50 smacks and adds 7 days to chastity release schedule

chastity sometimes may be extended at any time for any reason by mistress.

orgasm control

ruined orgasms


small penis humiliation

  1. fem-dom
  2. orgasm denial
  3. tease & denial
  4. chastity
  5. cuckolding
  6. rules
  7. chores

    Round About Peek-a-boo
  8. rewards/punishment
  9. spanking
  10. otk
  11. feet, pussy, & ass worship
  12. face-sitting
  13. forced bi
  14. cum eating
  15. forced anal

1)slave training


3)sissy training

we fuck normally or with cuckolding fetish porn…aka vanilla sex

then the training begins…

stripped upon entry



clothed or chastity

ass worship

go over rules & protocols

forced fem

give orgasm

clean house

slut training

tied up, teased & deny


first to jerk off & first time  orgasm

tease & denial

second orgasm – jerk off in front of mistress

female panties

  no more men underwear

face harness

cum like a sissy

put on display then in compromising positions

legs spread

spread eagle

on all fours, jerked off my mistress on plate for slave to lick up

mistress wears strap-on

face fucking session

spanking with an audience

There are defiantly things on his list that I am uncomfortable with. Well, not uncomfortable but more like not ready. And maybe not into. But the cuckolding and spanking great places to start. There are acronyms that I am unfamiliar with.


Today he came over. My cuckold. We started out easy. I was wearing tight blue jeans and a black t-shirt. He wore the same but his jeans were baggy and he wore a blue sweater over his t-shirt. He looked greasy. I know he had been walking from destination to destination. His outdoors smell and appearance was not attractive to me. It did nothing to make me want to pleasure him. In his case, punish him. His short blonde hair needed to be cut around the edges, near his ears. We could be casual like friends because we are. Just two people before I discovered what he was into. It intrigued me and made me want to try. I have often been told that I have a commanding way about me. That I should dominate men. I know what people mean when they say this. Instinctively and without concern I boss men around. I am direct and it is easier to tell them what to do. This is the only way to get what I want.

Franco, my cuckold, encourages me to tie him up. This is after we hung about for a bit in my room. Not touching. Talking to each other about his psycho ex-girlfriend. Sharing stories of a mutual friend that ripped us both off. He admits that he broke up with his abusive ex-girlfriend only to get back with her the following day. I laugh at him. I tell him that he is stupid. I tell him that he has to just let her alone. “I can’t” he whines.

“You like these abusive chicks. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Cuz’ you want to be punished?”

He gets a bit offended. “I didn’t come here for that! Not today, I’m telling you.” He wanted to convince me.

“Then what for?” I asked. I wanted some convincing. “Never mind,” suddenly I sat up. The mood changed. We had been laying on our stomach’s. Heads hanging over the edge of the mattress. “I don’t give a damn. You’re here now.”

“Yes ma’am, I am here now.”

I tie his arms to the bed. He has black fluffy handcuffs I locked around his wrists then attached a long black rope with buckles on each end that I clipped to the handcuffs.

I had made him strip before I tied him to the bed. I wanted tie up his feet but didn’t. This was after all our first time. I didn’t feel like it was. I was excited despite my inexperience.

He was spread the entire surface of the bed. I grinned. I liked this. He was grinning too. A wide open goofy grin. He was enjoying this. I grab a pair of black tights designed like a spider web. The bottoms, I had cut off and the stocking reached just above my ankle. I pulled them up over my waist above my navel. My bra is a black bust bodice with a single pear at the center between my breast. I wore black under, I wasn’t sure. In hindsight, the the cotton underwear wasn’t a practical decision.

Franco, didn’t know that I had changed. “Oh wow!” He said to me. “You look great.”

“Oh yea, do you want to fuck me?” I climbed between his legs.




About a month after my sister died I was ready to have sex. I needed to have sex. It is a strange thing to explain the numbing need for physical, sexual contact. A connection to something else. Something alive, warm-blooded unlike the ice freeze that my body inside and out had started to feel, which is really no feeling at all. I lived in a void since my sister’s unexpected death. From the moment I heard Mom speak the words, “Denise has passed.” a chill of desertion crept slowly through my body. Along the insides of my flesh. It choked me. I told Mom that I needed to call her back. She begged me to please call her back. I recognized the fear of desertion in her voice.

In middle school and for a little while in high school I was a cutter. Not all too intense a cutter. I didn’t cut my breasts- I have heard of some girls who do. I cut my wrist and forearm. The sweet, stinging feeling of the blade as it moved across my skin. I could feel the blade catch my clean softened skin and split it side to side. I would use disposable plastic razors. I’d have  10 or 8 thin red lines along my  arm. No one said much to be about it. So, I continued to cut myself because it was something that made me feel unlike how I was feeling. This is why I needed to have sex after the unexpected death of my younger sister. I needed to feel something other than the dull, painful,  void and numbness that I heavily carried around.

The urge to fuck didn’t come all of a sudden but it did have urgency and intensity. I asked a man that I knew from the dog park. I only knew him at the dog park as Socrates’s owner. Socrates is a black lab. He wags at me but then runs when my small chihuahua goes chihuahua on him. I was leaving the park. He was entering the park. We passed each other in the crosswalk. We nodded hi at each other. I got across the street and about midway up the block when I decided that I needed to fuck. I turned back and walked towards the man and his dog. It was the evening. Dusk had set. He stood under a street light. He watched me walk towards him. He is a good looking man. There is definitely sex appeal in the both of us. But this wasn’t about my desire for him. This was something that needed to be clear.

“What’s going on?” He smirked at me as I approached him and stood close. I held my dogs on their leashes. Socrates was off lease sniffing the ground around us.

“Do you want to have sex? With me?” My voice felt broken. I continued before he could respond. “My baby sister passed away and I  need to have sex.” I realized then that I was taking a huge chance that he would be able to understand where I was coming from.

He didn’t hesitate to say yes to me. He didn’t look at me with any judgment either. He just nodded, like he knew exactly what I was saying. Like he’d been prepared for the question. Like maybe he’d asked the same question to someone at one time.

The sex we had was like cold pizza. Not bad but better if it were hot. I asked him if he’d ever lost anyone close to him. They way he said yes only deepened my sadness. I told him that I was afraid I might cry. I didn’t know what to expect from myself. He said it wouldn’t be a problem. He got me tissue but I didn’t need to use it.

I asked him to be on top. I bit my lip and winced when his dick entered my vagina. He had a nice sized cock. He paused, exhaled, then with a slow rhythm rocked into me again and again.




In Bed

In bed there were whispers of love. Touches of love. Music of Journey. Space and time. It was in these moments that she realized she may have never felt this way before. There was nothing in her life preceding this moment that was measurable to the feeling she had as she swarmed in his arms. Her breasts

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hashtag no cock block

“I am all of a sudden very nervous,” I said as I unlocked the door to the apartment. He stood behind me a few steps to my left. He didn’t comment. I took a heavy breathe in relieved now that I’d made my admittance. It was hot for February. In the seventies. A late late summer this season. I wore a long, capp sleeve, v-neck with yellow and grey stripes cotton tee. Olive green designer leggings. It was a very low v-neck and my breasts are rather large. And phenomenal. He practically raped my chest with his attention and we couldn’t stay in the same room together for long. In fact, my breathing is still heavy from just that first intereaction of the day. Sounds come from the kitchen. Handyman sounds. He is replacing the window in the kitchen. “Is everything ok,?” I hadn’t heard anything alarming, like yesterday, when the sound of cascading glass hit the pavement.
“Yup, almost done.” His voice has the right amount of bass; it exudes confidence and sex appeal. He’s no Zac Efron but he’s no slouch either. He carries himself with the confidence of that of a man with a nice cock. A nice cock not only because it’s big but nice because he knows how to use it. Although, I haven’t had my fill of it yet or should I say his fill. Ba-dum-bum.