In the Shed

Trapped.

The door swung closed, locked on the outside.

Hot.

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“Hark Hark”

(Fantasy, and dark. Not for everyone!)

Hark hark the dogs do bark

The beggars are coming to town

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Dark Desires

I told him my darkest fantasies …

I would be blindfolded, stripped, and my hands tied together. I would be dragged along, unable to see. I would be taken to a room, where I could hear other people, yet they seem not to hear my pleas.

I would be tied to a table, on my back, with my hands tied above my head. The blindfold would be removed and I could see above me a sign, saying ‘free for use’.

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Waiting at the Studio

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait out here. The red warning light is on.” I came to a halt as he pointed at the sign above the door that said Recording Quiet Please in large letters.

“Oh! I guess I’m here early. You’re part of the crew for the documentary as well?”

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S.I.R.

She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled. “This is our most recent creation,” she said to me as she pulled it free from her white coat, maroon contrasting brilliantly. “Not yet for release – but ready for home testing. And while it doesn’t have an official name, just a designation, I’ve decided a very good title for it is S.I.R.”

“Sir?” I asked, confused, watching her as she stroked along the rectangular length of box with one fingertip and ruffled the nap of the velvet. I could not help but think of her stroking my skin in that way.

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Melbourne Airport Welcome

This is what delighted, reconnected with m’Lady, well-fucked property looks like:

I’d been in Melbourne proper all of perhaps thirty minutes at this point. Had come through customs, found m’Lady, sat down and had a lot of kissing and more kissing and oh the touching and mmm, kissing. (Kissing with m’Lady is simply delicious!) 

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Housework in the House

This is not something I thought would be assumed. And it was assumed by one of the last people I assumed (heh) would ever assume it. Which just goes to show.

I’ve been reading Mistress Matisse‘s writings since long before I started blogging – probably by a couple of years – so what she’s had to say has had an influence on me for nigh on a decade now. Whether it’s her blogging, articles in The Stranger, or tweets, I appreciate her wit, insight and attitude.

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Alternate Perspective on a Shower

It amazes me how different the photographs in one session can be. Apollo took at these pics at the same time, on our holiday in Matakana, but for some the flash went and for some it didn’t. I really like them all, but chose to split them into different posts, as they give such different perspectives. The brightness of the tiles in the previous post … and the brightness of me in this one.

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Backyard Dash

When Lauralyn mentioned she was going to do a self-portraiture dash competition, I was definitely in – how could I not enter something as awesome as that? I charged up my camera battery, fiddled about with my gorilla pod, and decided to explore the confines of our (relatively new) back yard.

When we moved in I’d spent some time figuring out the best spot to not be noticed by the neighbours, and placed the outdoor bathtub there. But that wasn’t where I wanted to take these pictures – it was a small area under trees, and just not right! So after walking around the house, and back again, and confusing the cats no end, I settled on the tool shed at the back of the property. Sure, at least three neighbours could see if they chose to look out their windows, but really – this is me and I don’t care.

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A Kiss is But a Dream

He stood a little over six feet and was solidly built, with a rusty-red beard, shaggy hair, and a twinkle in his eyes. He smiled over at me with a questioning shrug, and then leaned down to Apollo’s height and planted a kiss on his lips.

Apollo was caught by surprise – he’s my husband, I know that look. But the unexpectedness of the kiss notably changed to appreciation, and what may have started as a quick smooch turned into something longer, deeper.

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