Howling winter wind
the night is full of voices
shortest day, ending.
Yes, I just wrote a haiku about it being the shortest day as my piece of writing for today. And?
About Me
- one_lost_kitten
- I am a late 20-something kitten living in a large city in Northern England. I live in a little house in a big city with my cat and my chap and try to make enough money to get by with. My dreams don't involve making a lot of cash but do involve being happy, receiving love and owning more cats.
Haiku - A Cop-Out
Yes, I just wrote a haiku about it being the shortest day as my piece of writing for today. And?
Merry Solstice!
Woohoo! Shortest day today (well, yesterday now). This means from here on in the days can only get longer and there can only be more sunshine - hurrah! Soon there will be crocuses and snowdrops and fresh green grass and the smell of growing things and leaves on the trees again - glorious.
It's also only four days until Christmas, which is not actually a big deal for me - we don't really celebrate. It's my first poly Christmas though, which is going to be interesting. I know I can't be with Scholar, because he's at home with his folks, but Beautiful Man and I are going to have curry followed by Christmas pudding and drink wine and do as we pleased. I'd also like to see Gorgeous Girl if at all possible. Complicated much? I'm working Christmas eve so I doubt I'll be awake before about mid-day on the day, but it isn't a biggie.
The Wednesday of the following week is the shibari workshop with the uber-talented MailerPhong, which I am thoroughly looking forward to. I really admire his work - it's very beautiful and elegant. I'm off to Sheffield to see Scholar for a couple of days after that and we're going to go to see Sherlock Holmes...if he likes it or not! I'm looking forward to spending some time with him.
I've been on a bit of a writing bent the last few days; okay, most of the writing has been of the erotic variety but it's writing, isn't it? I wonder...can I write a new piece every day from now until New Year? Hmm. Challenge accepted!
It's also only four days until Christmas, which is not actually a big deal for me - we don't really celebrate. It's my first poly Christmas though, which is going to be interesting. I know I can't be with Scholar, because he's at home with his folks, but Beautiful Man and I are going to have curry followed by Christmas pudding and drink wine and do as we pleased. I'd also like to see Gorgeous Girl if at all possible. Complicated much? I'm working Christmas eve so I doubt I'll be awake before about mid-day on the day, but it isn't a biggie.
The Wednesday of the following week is the shibari workshop with the uber-talented MailerPhong, which I am thoroughly looking forward to. I really admire his work - it's very beautiful and elegant. I'm off to Sheffield to see Scholar for a couple of days after that and we're going to go to see Sherlock Holmes...if he likes it or not! I'm looking forward to spending some time with him.
I've been on a bit of a writing bent the last few days; okay, most of the writing has been of the erotic variety but it's writing, isn't it? I wonder...can I write a new piece every day from now until New Year? Hmm. Challenge accepted!
His - Erotica
Just a bit of OTK spanking and domestic discipline type fun! Not 100% sure of the quality of this one, I seem to be a little bit off form at the moment but it doesn't do to not post things and forget how to write at all.
She sat at the foot of his bed, her legs folded underneath her and her heels pressed against her round behind. Her glossy hair flowed down her back and tumbled over her shoulders. Her hands were cuffed in front of her, feminine lilac and pink leather cuffs held together by a short length of silvery chain. A matching collar encircled her slender neck, the chain attached to the bedpost, giving her just enough space to move slightly, but not enough to stand and walk away.
She shifted slightly on the satin-smooth cushion, aware of the press of the restraints around her and of the soft feel of the pale pink silk panties against her smoothly shaved sex. The white vest top hugged her figure and kept her warm enough to not shiver in the open room but her small dusky pink nipples stood out and pulled against the fabric. White and pink thigh high socks completed her meager outfit. She rested her head against the cold metal of the bed frame for a moment, taking deep breaths.
He had caught her as she came home, pressing her up against the wall in a forceful, passionate kiss before instructing her to shower, shave herself smooth and dress as he would wish: she knew his preferences and liked to please, and had selected the evening's wardrobe appropriately. She had waited in the bedroom for him and had not resisted when he placed his hand on her hair, gently stroking for a moment before forcing her to the ground, onto the pillow she knew was her place. She had looked confused and a little upset for a moment - she hadn't done anything wrong, why was she being punished? but didn't make a sound: she was Sir's girl, to do with as he wished. Once the small, heart-shaped padlocks had clicked into place she looked up at him, her eyes wide, clear blue pools. He smiled down at her for a moment, warmth and love in his face and she relaxed, blinked - and he slapped her, hard, across the cheek.
She cried out with pain and surprise and forgot herself for a moment: "hey, what?" - greeted with another hard slap. This time she kept her head.
He frowned at her. "You've been a bad girl. You thought I was asleep when you fucked your dirty slut cunt in the shower this morning, didn't you?" She swallowed hard and looked down - caught out. "And did you ask for my permission to cum? I don't think you did. Didn't I tell you that this - " he slid his hand between her thighs to caress her womanhood through the delicate fabric - "is mine?" She hung her head even lower, shame coursing through her and reddening her cheeks. "Now, you filthy fucking slut. Sit here and think about what you've done."
Without a second glance he turned and strode out the room, leaving her sitting at the foot of the bed.
She wasn't sure how long she had been waiting now but it felt like forever. The sting of her cheek had gone now but she knew he wasn't done with her. She hung her head even lower, shame coursing through her and reddening her cheeks. "Now, you filthy fucking slut. Sit here and think about what you've done."
Without a second glance he turned and strode out the room, leaving her sitting at the foot of the bed.
She wasn't sure how long she had been waiting now but it felt like forever. The sting of her cheek had gone now but she knew he wasn't done with her. The anticipation was beginning to be intense, exquisite, and every small sound which carried to her from his movements in the other room became magnified and exaggerated until she could barely stand it. Again, she closed her eyes and tried to find peace, to slow her pounding heart but it was too much...but when she reopened her eyes, he was opening the door and walking slowly towards her across the floorboards, one hand in the pocket of his suit trousers. In the other he held the tawse.
She swallowed hard, trying not to panic. He never used the tawse on her, it was brutal and never failed to make her sob and plead with him for mercy. She shrank away from him reflexively and she saw a frown pass his face momentarily. Dropping the weapon on the bed he reached for her, unlocking her from the bedpost and dragging her to her feet by the collar. One strong hand gripped her chin and made her look up at him. "Girl, do you know what you've done wrong" he asked, eyes hard. She tried to reply without fear: "yes, Sir. I did not ask for your permission to play with myself this morning, and I did not ask to be allowed to cum." Her eyes dropped. "I am sorry."
Once more he lifted her face and kissed her softly, his lips warm and inviting and the rough scratch of his goatee familiar. He held her against him with one strong arm as he sat himself on the bed, pulling her down after him and pushing her over his knee. Her breasts pressed into his thigh, his hands lifting and repositioning her until she was restrained simply by not being able to touch the floor. He took her cuffed wrists in one hand and without saying a word lay a sharp smack across each cheek of her pale arse. She gave a tiny muffled cry of pain as he lay into her soft flesh again and again. After ten sharp, painful spanks he paused to stroke her stinging, reddened flesh for a moment before another ten spanks. Her teeth gritted against the pain she barely cried out...but the worst was still to come. He let her slip to the floor as he stood and stretched, lazily like a cat, and picked up the tawse.
"Stand up, bitch, pull those panties down, and bend over the bed." She felt sick, shivering with fear and lust as she eased the silky fabric over her hips, her exposed mound smooth and inviting and the folds of her pussy glistening with honey. He ran his hand over her hot, reddened cheeks, almost as if he was lost in contemplation of her form, her dark pink womanhood peeking out beneath the roundness of her rear. But all too soon a sharp intake of breath gave him away and she barely had time to brace herself for the red-hot flick of the tawse's tails. She screamed. The tawse bit again and her scream was driven from her throat. Three more times it rose and fell, three times she shrieked and by the fifth stroke the tears rolled down her face as she sobbed over and over "please, please, no more, I'm sorry Sir, please!"
Through her pain and tears she saw the tawse drop to the floor beside her, but it barely registered until she felt him turn her around and grip her hair in his fist, forcing her to the floor with a crash, her head yanked back hard as he unzipped his trousers and withdrew his rock-hard cock. "For your indiscretion, whore, you can make me cum now" he growled, forcing himself deep into her throat. She gagged and gasped, swallowing hard around him and pressed a little further forward, satisfied to hear his groan of pleasure. Her eyes closed as she worked his cock, long deep strokes alternating with shorter, her tongue teasing his shaft, flicking and swirling over the head before plunging him into her throat, making her gag and drool. His hips began to buck into her, pushing his cock uncomfortably deep into her throat, bringing tears to her eyes as his balls tightened under her ministrations and with a groan he shoved her back, giving two long strokes and shooting his hot load over her tear-stained face.
For a moment she sobbed, humiliated and filthy, her own drool and tears mixing with his cum and dripping onto the white vest, her panties still tangled around her ankles and her own arousal wetting her thighs. He stood for a moment, taking stock, looking at the little whore crumpled in front of him, before stripping his trousers and underwear and picking her up into his arms and lying with her on the bed. He rocked her gently to and fro as she shook and wept a little, making soft noises of comfort and stroking her welted arse until her breathing grew even and she looked up at him, eyes reddened and beautiful face streaked with dirt.
"Now baby," he said "have you learned your lesson?"
Her voice cracked and she nodded.
"Yes Sir: I am yours."
She shifted slightly on the satin-smooth cushion, aware of the press of the restraints around her and of the soft feel of the pale pink silk panties against her smoothly shaved sex. The white vest top hugged her figure and kept her warm enough to not shiver in the open room but her small dusky pink nipples stood out and pulled against the fabric. White and pink thigh high socks completed her meager outfit. She rested her head against the cold metal of the bed frame for a moment, taking deep breaths.
He had caught her as she came home, pressing her up against the wall in a forceful, passionate kiss before instructing her to shower, shave herself smooth and dress as he would wish: she knew his preferences and liked to please, and had selected the evening's wardrobe appropriately. She had waited in the bedroom for him and had not resisted when he placed his hand on her hair, gently stroking for a moment before forcing her to the ground, onto the pillow she knew was her place. She had looked confused and a little upset for a moment - she hadn't done anything wrong, why was she being punished? but didn't make a sound: she was Sir's girl, to do with as he wished. Once the small, heart-shaped padlocks had clicked into place she looked up at him, her eyes wide, clear blue pools. He smiled down at her for a moment, warmth and love in his face and she relaxed, blinked - and he slapped her, hard, across the cheek.
She cried out with pain and surprise and forgot herself for a moment: "hey, what?" - greeted with another hard slap. This time she kept her head.
He frowned at her. "You've been a bad girl. You thought I was asleep when you fucked your dirty slut cunt in the shower this morning, didn't you?" She swallowed hard and looked down - caught out. "And did you ask for my permission to cum? I don't think you did. Didn't I tell you that this - " he slid his hand between her thighs to caress her womanhood through the delicate fabric - "is mine?" She hung her head even lower, shame coursing through her and reddening her cheeks. "Now, you filthy fucking slut. Sit here and think about what you've done."
Without a second glance he turned and strode out the room, leaving her sitting at the foot of the bed.
She wasn't sure how long she had been waiting now but it felt like forever. The sting of her cheek had gone now but she knew he wasn't done with her. She hung her head even lower, shame coursing through her and reddening her cheeks. "Now, you filthy fucking slut. Sit here and think about what you've done."
Without a second glance he turned and strode out the room, leaving her sitting at the foot of the bed.
She wasn't sure how long she had been waiting now but it felt like forever. The sting of her cheek had gone now but she knew he wasn't done with her. The anticipation was beginning to be intense, exquisite, and every small sound which carried to her from his movements in the other room became magnified and exaggerated until she could barely stand it. Again, she closed her eyes and tried to find peace, to slow her pounding heart but it was too much...but when she reopened her eyes, he was opening the door and walking slowly towards her across the floorboards, one hand in the pocket of his suit trousers. In the other he held the tawse.
She swallowed hard, trying not to panic. He never used the tawse on her, it was brutal and never failed to make her sob and plead with him for mercy. She shrank away from him reflexively and she saw a frown pass his face momentarily. Dropping the weapon on the bed he reached for her, unlocking her from the bedpost and dragging her to her feet by the collar. One strong hand gripped her chin and made her look up at him. "Girl, do you know what you've done wrong" he asked, eyes hard. She tried to reply without fear: "yes, Sir. I did not ask for your permission to play with myself this morning, and I did not ask to be allowed to cum." Her eyes dropped. "I am sorry."
Once more he lifted her face and kissed her softly, his lips warm and inviting and the rough scratch of his goatee familiar. He held her against him with one strong arm as he sat himself on the bed, pulling her down after him and pushing her over his knee. Her breasts pressed into his thigh, his hands lifting and repositioning her until she was restrained simply by not being able to touch the floor. He took her cuffed wrists in one hand and without saying a word lay a sharp smack across each cheek of her pale arse. She gave a tiny muffled cry of pain as he lay into her soft flesh again and again. After ten sharp, painful spanks he paused to stroke her stinging, reddened flesh for a moment before another ten spanks. Her teeth gritted against the pain she barely cried out...but the worst was still to come. He let her slip to the floor as he stood and stretched, lazily like a cat, and picked up the tawse.
"Stand up, bitch, pull those panties down, and bend over the bed." She felt sick, shivering with fear and lust as she eased the silky fabric over her hips, her exposed mound smooth and inviting and the folds of her pussy glistening with honey. He ran his hand over her hot, reddened cheeks, almost as if he was lost in contemplation of her form, her dark pink womanhood peeking out beneath the roundness of her rear. But all too soon a sharp intake of breath gave him away and she barely had time to brace herself for the red-hot flick of the tawse's tails. She screamed. The tawse bit again and her scream was driven from her throat. Three more times it rose and fell, three times she shrieked and by the fifth stroke the tears rolled down her face as she sobbed over and over "please, please, no more, I'm sorry Sir, please!"
Through her pain and tears she saw the tawse drop to the floor beside her, but it barely registered until she felt him turn her around and grip her hair in his fist, forcing her to the floor with a crash, her head yanked back hard as he unzipped his trousers and withdrew his rock-hard cock. "For your indiscretion, whore, you can make me cum now" he growled, forcing himself deep into her throat. She gagged and gasped, swallowing hard around him and pressed a little further forward, satisfied to hear his groan of pleasure. Her eyes closed as she worked his cock, long deep strokes alternating with shorter, her tongue teasing his shaft, flicking and swirling over the head before plunging him into her throat, making her gag and drool. His hips began to buck into her, pushing his cock uncomfortably deep into her throat, bringing tears to her eyes as his balls tightened under her ministrations and with a groan he shoved her back, giving two long strokes and shooting his hot load over her tear-stained face.
For a moment she sobbed, humiliated and filthy, her own drool and tears mixing with his cum and dripping onto the white vest, her panties still tangled around her ankles and her own arousal wetting her thighs. He stood for a moment, taking stock, looking at the little whore crumpled in front of him, before stripping his trousers and underwear and picking her up into his arms and lying with her on the bed. He rocked her gently to and fro as she shook and wept a little, making soft noises of comfort and stroking her welted arse until her breathing grew even and she looked up at him, eyes reddened and beautiful face streaked with dirt.
"Now baby," he said "have you learned your lesson?"
Her voice cracked and she nodded.
"Yes Sir: I am yours."
Fuck THIS!
I am so fucking sick of being ill all the fucking time! I'm exhausted, feel constantly fuzzy-headed and disconnected from everything and every time I do something the least little bit stressful or strenuous like, oh, do a couple of days work, or go out, I end up back in the same god damned state of exhaustion where I sleep for fifteen hours and wake up feeling great...for three hours, until I can't keep my eyes open and I'm falling asleep into my cup of tea.
I'm pissed off with all my bloody joints aching, with wanting to go out and motivate myself to do things and with not being able to get off my arse and do them. I'm tired of not caring about how I look, or what I do. I can't tell if my fucking antidepressants are working because I just feel so fucking SHITE all the time anyway! Half the time I just want to cry my eyes out because I feel so fucking ghastly and alone and scared of what's happening to me and sick and fucking tired of waking up constantly in the night shivering and sweating and then bloody SLEEPING all the time and having skin which is so sensitive it hurts for someone to fucking touch me and all I want is for someone to hold me and for everything to just stop feeling so fucking appalling. I want to be looked after, for once - is that too much to ask? To be more important than a TV show or a computer game or a fucking god damned story?
Or relationship is vanilla. I'm not his sub and I'm certainly not his slave. So why the FUCK do I feel like I spend my life looking after him and getting nothing in return?
I probably feel like this because I'm ill, and so, so tired of it, but right now I want to just...leave. Go away. Take a week and just fuck off out of this place, this city, this house, and be myself and do things for me. Go see a show. Eat food he hates. Go to the cinema. Actually spend a whole day doing something, not feeling like it is a massive big deal...you know...like sitting in the park. Sounds like heaven.
I'm pissed off with all my bloody joints aching, with wanting to go out and motivate myself to do things and with not being able to get off my arse and do them. I'm tired of not caring about how I look, or what I do. I can't tell if my fucking antidepressants are working because I just feel so fucking SHITE all the time anyway! Half the time I just want to cry my eyes out because I feel so fucking ghastly and alone and scared of what's happening to me and sick and fucking tired of waking up constantly in the night shivering and sweating and then bloody SLEEPING all the time and having skin which is so sensitive it hurts for someone to fucking touch me and all I want is for someone to hold me and for everything to just stop feeling so fucking appalling. I want to be looked after, for once - is that too much to ask? To be more important than a TV show or a computer game or a fucking god damned story?
Or relationship is vanilla. I'm not his sub and I'm certainly not his slave. So why the FUCK do I feel like I spend my life looking after him and getting nothing in return?
I probably feel like this because I'm ill, and so, so tired of it, but right now I want to just...leave. Go away. Take a week and just fuck off out of this place, this city, this house, and be myself and do things for me. Go see a show. Eat food he hates. Go to the cinema. Actually spend a whole day doing something, not feeling like it is a massive big deal...you know...like sitting in the park. Sounds like heaven.
Pin Me Up
I say all this after just having had pizza for my dinner. My excuse is that I am really kind of ill and honestly don't feel like doing anything at all. The Man has suggested that it might be something to do with our ghastly leaky damp house and that I don't seem to be getting well because of the mould. Suspect that's got something to do with it, but I'm so sick of feeling rotten and sleeping all the time.
OOPS!
I am really, very drunk. Very, very, very drunk.
Why am I posting this on the internet? Because I can!
Why am I posting this on the internet? Because I can!
Brrr!
Today it is 2 degrees Celsius (36 degrees Fahrenheit) in my city and it is bloody horrible. I am combating the nasty by spending the day crocheting presents for my lovely friends for Christmas. This year I am not really doing presents unless they are hand made, so I've got an awful lot of crafting to do! I have one (massive) blanket to make - so not going to happen before Christmas! - and several scarf/glove combos which ideally I would like to get done before, oh, Sunday. HAHAHA. Trust me to leave it right to the very last minute to get on with them.
My cough is still lingering in a highly annoying way, and making working on a busy night a little uncomfortable as the moist air in the bar irritates it and makes me look like a plague sufferer when I spend five minutes coughing solidly. Oh well, it's money and money is good. Especially when you have a fetish for shiny things.
I came across a novel way of making money last night though: someone propositioned me to buy a pair of my used panties! I can't quite decide what I think of that, but £12 for a pair of my dirty knickers...okay, fair enough really!
Navel piercing is getting on a lot better now I have a PTFE bar in it and not the slightly-too-short titanium one it was pierced with. The angry redness is going down a lot, although it has been bleeding a little today. I shall put some nice soothing Savlon cream on it and hope for the best.
My cough is still lingering in a highly annoying way, and making working on a busy night a little uncomfortable as the moist air in the bar irritates it and makes me look like a plague sufferer when I spend five minutes coughing solidly. Oh well, it's money and money is good. Especially when you have a fetish for shiny things.
I came across a novel way of making money last night though: someone propositioned me to buy a pair of my used panties! I can't quite decide what I think of that, but £12 for a pair of my dirty knickers...okay, fair enough really!
Navel piercing is getting on a lot better now I have a PTFE bar in it and not the slightly-too-short titanium one it was pierced with. The angry redness is going down a lot, although it has been bleeding a little today. I shall put some nice soothing Savlon cream on it and hope for the best.
Things
A list, mostly for my own reference, of things I want to make/try making.
Think that's it for now. No doubt there will be more but I think five projects is quite enough for the time being. And now I shall find something to watch (easier said than done) and crack on with that bastard blanket. I will not nap. Not. No napping...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
- Fascinators/hair accessories - I found lots of cute flowers for cheap on ebay. I figure for the cost of one of the really fancy fascinators I lust after I could get enough flowers and bases to make about 10. One for me, nine to sell.
- A circle skirt. This is my project for Wednesday afternoon/Thursday morning. I am currently thinking a patterned fabric with contrasting velvet ribbon waistband. Ideally I want to wear this out on Thursday night. Total budget for the project: £10 or less.
- A man-scarf. This is already in progress. Using green-mix double-knit yarn and a 5.00 hook.
- Hair sticks - I still have the bits for about another four sets; again these can go on ebay or etsy.
- Finish the Blanket Of Doom! Nearly two years in the making and I am getting sick of the sight of the bastard now. God damn granny squares.
Think that's it for now. No doubt there will be more but I think five projects is quite enough for the time being. And now I shall find something to watch (easier said than done) and crack on with that bastard blanket. I will not nap. Not. No napping...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!