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I Want To Go To A Sex Party…but…

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Now and then, a woman says to me that they want to go to a sex party, but she’s afraid to.

She’s afraid of being pounced on the second she walks in the door. She’s afraid of being assaulted, not being in control of the situation.

January 2018, I attended a sex party for the first time. I had left my husband, my dom, my Master. Two weeks later, I took myself to a Roman style orgy.

All of my concerns were put to rest at once because the venue has very specific rules regarding consent. No means no. Period. End of story. Don’t ask again.

Every sex party I’ve been to at this particular venue has been well-controlled, well monitored. Safe. Calling out the DM’s name brings him over in about two seconds to address any issues. Truly, I couldn’t feel safer.

The trick to it all is to find a place where you like the people; like how it’s run; like the policies and how they’re enforced. This can take some time and effort. That’s not always easy. 

I’ve written previously about turning around an awkward evening and instead having a terrific time. Patience is a necessity. You won’t always get what you want. There is no guarantee that you’ll have sex. You might not meet someone you find attractive.

You may also discover that you have to set aside some of your personal attraction features. Just like at any SM party, the sex party isn’t filled with Adonis and Aphrodite. People have imperfections.

The hunky dude with the biggest dick may look great and be a fantastic guy…but he may pop off in five minutes and be done before you ever got started.

The dude who is the most eager may burn his thighs out within ten minutes. The guy you wouldn’t normally go for might last for 45 minutes. 

You have no way of knowing until you’re in the saddle, as it were.

There’s a certain level of open-mindedness you have take with you. There may be trade-offs you need to make.

For example and for a multitude of reasons, I don’t perform oral sex. Period. End of story. But I do fuck like a demon. What I don’t do orally I make up for in my ability to go for a long time. And I don’t need (or want) foreplay for myself. 

Some have asked if I will receive oral, even after I’ve said I don’t perform it. My answer is yes. I very much enjoy receiving oral, and we’ve gotten down to business. If they’re not good at it, I’ll stop them after a few minutes and reach for a condom. Get it up, slap it on, and let’s fuck, bubba.

I have had perfectly satisfying encounters that were nothing but oral and fingers. I wrote about that previously, in my “Sexually Serviced for the First Time” piece.

I’ve taken a toy or two myself, most notably my little jeweled butt plug. Regardless the scorn those things get on fetish sites, it gets smiles when the guys see it, and they are always eager to use it on me.

I’ve also had a fun time without engaging in anything but socializing, simply enjoying being with the people.

The bottom line is this: If you want to attend a sex party, by all means go. Have fun. Use the condoms if you are going to have sex. 

Understand that every time you attend is going to be a different experience. Be open to that, because you never know which party is going to be the best you ever attended.

—–

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. 

She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

Master Rigio of Gloriana

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Rigio saw her coming through the bedroom.

“Stay there.”

He met her at the door when she stepped through, took her by the hand and kissed her cheek and told her how lovely she looked. Seating her in the companion chair, giving her a small whiskey, he put the cane in her hand.

“I’ll be right back. Wait for me.”

Lady Boldon and Iris were waiting by the door of the suite. He said goodnight and let them out and locked the door. Turning off lights along the way, the apartment darkened behind him. He liked this layout, the controlled path and entry, the one way emergency exit in the wall.

“I’d like to watch you cane the slave, Reah,” he said, stopping near the chairs. “Inspire him to good oral service.”

She smiled and stood as he opened his pants and sat near the front edge of the chair. His cock and balls hung freely. Property eased forward to take the base of this new cock in hand to stroke.

“No hands,” Rigio said. 

Which forced Property to brace his hands on the floor to lean far enough forward that he could suck and keep his backside presented. As always, the Namrata did not start lightly. Not her hardest swings, but certainly not gentle and coaxing. She swung methodically until his ass was on fire, then changed target between his legs to whap back and forth rapidly just at the bottom of his ball sack. Then up to strike the sack directly.

Grunts and fast breaths as he dealt with it. Rigio held back his chuckles as Property struggled to take his Mistress’ mean cane and give proper oral service at the same time. The torment of stroking his cock and balls softly with the cane about drove Property over the edge every time. She knew well how to balance the pain and the pleasure. When she gave him a hard kick to the balls, Property almost spilled onto the carpet. His groan was loud, he shuddered inside his skin and sucked down harder to avoid biting the cock in his mouth.

Rigio watched her, saw her tight focus…and the beast in her blood. Not like the Beast in Preece’s belly. That was mostly Parin. This was her own cruel streak, learned at the hands of a cruel man, and tempered by living among others who had control and had taught her control. Otherwise, he’d worry she was just a murdering brute.

She grew strong as she got deeper into the beating and Property did not put on a show of noise. She said nothing, did not taunt or verbally humiliate. She increased her force swing after swing, pausing after a smashing hit that about sent Property through the roof. She took a step away to give Property a moment to regain his composure after the open-mouthed scream, give him time to resume his vigorous sucking.

Rigio pushed him away. “Go to your room.”

“He can take much more,” Reah said, and smacked his ass once more as he crawled by her.

“I’m sure he can,” Rigio said, leaving the seat. “But I want you. Now.”

He picked her up around the waist, carrying her straight through the doorway and to the bed. On the edge of the foot, the nightgown sliced down with a knife he was too fast with, he pushed her to lie back, pulled her thighs around his hips to have her with a vigor he’d not shown her before. Gown ripped the rest of the way up, he took his belt from his pants to whip her breasts as they slid and jiggled with his hip force.

“Is that why you brought these gowns?” she asked when he turned her over to stand off the side of the bed and sliced it from her back. “To destroy them?”

“Yes,” he replied, and gave her a long beating to her upper back, buttocks and thighs.

He wailed on her until she could barely keep on her feet and her hands were no longer trying to grip the sheets. Belt aside, he finished in her ass in a few hard and fast minutes very unlike his other sodomies.

“Starting right now, I will keep you hot and horny as you were in Mida. Your satisfaction is at my mercy and you will not be sated every day. Climb up and go to sleep and don’t you dare try to jack yourself.”

She did climb up, slow and stiff  and deep into the dream space. She was sated through the beating and plenty of orgasms, not needing the finisher to be at peace. Happily beaten, more so than she’d been in a long time, and curled onto a side to sigh her content, she fell into a hard sleep in a matter of minutes.

Kissing her cheek, smiling at his good work, Rigio gathered up the remnants of the nightgown into a pile and went into the sitting room to get another shot of whiskey and turn off the lights. He went out onto the balcony outside the office room to see what could be seen.. He could not see the men on the roof, which meant they could not see him. Why were there men on the roof? He would put them on the ground instead.

Heading for the bathing room intending to take a quick one himself, he heard a noise inside the slave bedroom. Opening the door, he found the slave on his knees on the floor, trying to finish himself off over the piss bucket.

“Having trouble?”

Property startled, looked up. He was having difficulties. “The Namrata knows how to keep me in agony of need all too well, Master. I cannot finish for wanting her small hand or Master’s harsh invasion.”

“Come here.”

Property followed Rigio into the corridor between bathing room and bedroom. Painful hand in his hair and another around his forearm put him hard up against the smooth, painted wall. Scant seconds and he was penetrated enough like Moros had done in the Temple in Mida.

“If you’re going to cum then do it,” Rigio hissed, pinning the slave to the wall and thrusting in sharp jerks. “I will keep her in need. But not you. So if you need an ass rape before you can sleep, I’ll rape your ass when you least expect it.”

Property groaned with his cum, his hard shaft pulsing and throbbing between his belly and the unyielding wall. His warm goo spurted in slow blobs with each jerk from Master, smearing over his skin and the wall.

Rigio kept going until his own climax shot out, and let go the slave.

“Clean up that mess,” he said, and went to take that bath.

Excerpt from Peeper of Gloriana

——-

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

 

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

 

I Will Make You Safeword!

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This one is going to be short, not so sweet, and directly to the point.

“I will make you use your safe word.” I saw this said in an erroneous supposition that this is how a top learns a bottom’s signals.

If a top said this to me, I would look them in the eye and say “Then you will not ever touch me”, and I would walk away. Remember a couple months back when I wrote that piece about my stoicism not being a gauntlet thrown down? This is another angle of that same thing.

Why will I not play with someone who says this to me? 

Lots of reasons. I’ll start with these:

  1. This top does not have my best interest in mind. 
  2. Play is not about pleasure and having fun. 
  3. The top wants to give me the worst experience and MAKE ME make it end. I find that alarming.
  4. There’s this matter of consent we’re always going on about.  I do NOT consent to being intentionally driven to say stop.

Any fool can swing a cane and make the bottom scream red. It takes zero skill to do that.

As a top, I do like to deliver a great deal of pain; but I don’t EVER want to hear the bottom say stop. The most I’ve heard so far is a yellow during a paddling. It was rather early into the scene. She wasn’t quite warmed up enough yet. It happens. She communicated. I adjusted. We went on to have a terrific scene and she will never forget getting a methodical paddling to “Another Brick in the Wall”. (excellent spanking/caning/paddling song, btw)

My goal as a top is to find the bottom’s pleasure zone and keep them there for as long as humanly possible. I want to take them to the limits of their physical endurance. Not their pain endurance, but that of their legs. I want to take them to the point that their legs literally will not hold them up anymore, yet they’re still pleading with me not to stop.

I want to stop while they still want more, keeping the experience positive for them from start to finish. That’s how I keep them coming back for more of what I do, sometimes within the same night. That’s why they come to me in the first place.

My dearest novice bottoms, you have the right to say “NO, I will not be intentionally, relentlessly, driven to say my safe word.” You can tell the top that. Tell them that is not a game you are willing to play.

You have the right to walk away the second they say something like that.  You do not have to go through with the scene. You don’t even have to start it.

You have the right to NOT PLAY if anything the top says during discussion/negotiation makes you uncomfortable.

Better to walk away and not play that night than put yourself into the hands of someone who is intent on taking you beyond the point you want to go.

—–

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

Paramour

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“Only one more room to see,” he told her.

“Gee, I wonder which one.”

He changed his mind. “It can wait.”

In seconds, she was on her back on the square foot stool with him thrust in to the hilt. Only a few moments and he pulled her off to straddle his waist. Feet on the floor, in her heels, hands on his shoulders, she had leverage to ride him well.

“Work for me, Pussycat,” he urged. “Show me how hard I can be inside you.”

Her channel being deeper made it impossible for the average K’Tran male to fill her and strike the core to cause her to ovulate. He was not the average K’Tran male, however. His shaft was longer, thicker. In her position, her channel was at its shortest when he was fully inside her. She jammed herself down, seeking on instinct to feel his solid strike against her cervical plate. Desperate sounds of a Femina in her prime, and his primal self heard. She sat harder on him, gasping when she felt him hit that spot that burned the most. She went weak for those few seconds, and he decided her dress was too much in the way.

“Where does this untie?” he asked of the lacing.

She laughed. “I’m not telling.”

He searched the front for the string ends, could not find where they’d been tucked in behind her neck. Without a word, he reached into his pocket for the balisong given him by the Dragon his first day as a raw recruit. His first Earth weapon. Open in a clacking flash, he sliced the strings up the front.

A lift as he got up and she landed hard on the footstool. He cut the strings up the back as well and turned her over to slice the material from her waist to her knees.

“Never wear this dress again!” he commanded, dropping the knife to rip the skirt apart to the hem.

Adelaide laughed. “I think you took care of that, lover,” she said, sitting up to pull the sleeves off and let the shredded dress fall to the floor.

He captured her left hand to kiss her palm, and stood with her.

“My ringlet. My teeth marks. A great pair of shoes. Let’s go out to dinner!”

She laughed again as he took her to the big sofa. On her belly with his soft word and he raised her bottom up with a guiding hand. Cock greased with lubricant kept under the cushion, he sank his thumb into her sheath first, to find the right spot. When her head drooped and he heard that certain low moan, he slowly drove into her welcoming anus. A new, deeper groan emanated from her.

“How’s that, Pussycat?”

“Mmmmm,” she hummed.

“More?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

He took her straight to a climax more intense than when he’d popped her clit on the station. On wide knees, she lowered her pelvis and shuddered violently. Breath held as he gut clenched, she let go a flood no Voranian could ever produce. He drove into her in forceful jolts, the clench of her muscles squeezing his climax from him whether he was ready for it or not. Stripped empty, he slipped out to lay behind her and rest as she flopped onto her side. Knowing her legs weren’t going to support her for some time, he pulled down the light blanket from the top ledge of the sofa and opened it to cover them both.

Excerpt from Ties That Bind

——-

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

Bottom Does Not Equal Housemaid

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Last week, I went on a date with a very nice man I met on OKC. Toward the end of our date, he brought up how he’s having difficulty finding a submissive who will clean his house. They’ll come over to play and fuck, but don’t want to clean his house. I commiserated that I couldn’t find a bottom who was willing to come to my end of the subway line and carry my rolling backpack for me. 

I have a bad back, am in constant pain when standing, so having someone pull/carry the bag for me would be a tremendous help. It’s downright exhausting to have to drag the thing up four flights of stairs and through two neighborhoods just to get to the party.

I think it was the last thing he was expecting me to say. His expression was one of astonishment. Probably that I had the audacity to say that I also find myself in the position of not being able to find someone to be of service when we were discussing a possible top/bottom relationship between ourselves.

As a sadomasochist who can be either the top or the bottom, I can easily flow from one end of the spectrum to the other during conversation as it pertains to me. (as per my piece about my Sadomasochism being fluid) 

I think it can be disconcerting for some, who don’t grasp that a person can be a dominant bottom.

The next day, I received a message from him that I’m not what he’s looking for. Okay. Fine. No hard feelings. Maybe we’ll hook up now and then at a play party.

But it got me to thinking. I went to my OKC profile and added a line that says “if you are looking for someone to clean your house, swipe on by because I am not the house maid.”

Within a couple days, nearly 20 of the men who had previously clicked “Like” had clicked UNlike. Ten percent of the men who had clicked to like me had dropped me after I’d added one line to my profile about not being their housemaid. 

I find that fascinating. It got my brain churning some more.

Why is there this automatic assumption that bottom = housemaid? Or that submissive = housemaid?

I’m a whipping post bottom and a fuck slut, not a chambermaid and waitress.

If it’s a male bottom/submissive, no such assumptions are made. They’re not nearly so often made to do the chores when it’s a now and then hookup situation. But if the bottom/sub is female, all of a sudden it’s taken for granted that she’s going to clean the bathroom when she shows up. She’ll fold the laundry, do the dishes, vacuum the living room.

You know what? Fuck that shit.

There’s an app for that. Several, in fact.

Literally, there’s an app for hiring housecleaners who will do the work exactly as you specify without all the fuss and bother of meeting people and pretending you want a relationship with them.

Make use.

Just as tops are not kink vending machines for greedy bottoms, nor are bottoms automatically your house help just because bottom.

——-

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

 

I Want to SERRRRRRVE You!

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I get these messages all the time. Some random dude whose screen name I’ve never seen before sends me a pm out of the blue to say…

“I want to serve you.”

Well that’s nice. 

There are a lot of ways I can respond to this. Often I tell them that they are too far away and there is not one single way in which they can serve me, since serving me means being physically present. 

Recently, I responded with a question. “What does that mean to you?”

Twelve hours later, he replied: “I will be your slave, you can use me for your pleasure…”

Well that’s nice. 

But it doesn’t tell me anything.

I asked again “What do you think ‘service’ means?”

Twelve hours later, he responded with “Never mind, good luck…”

Gosh. The horror of being expected to use your brain and communicate to me the meaning of the  concept with which you approached me.

It doesn’t seem like that hard of a question, does it? “What does service mean to you?” We ask people this very thing in thread after thread, group after group, when they are asking questions about “is this right?” and “how do I serve?” and “how do I be submissive?”

Invariably, they mean sexyfuckytime stuff. It doesn’t occur to them the million and one other things that make up service.

If someone is going to serve me, and I allow them into my home, they must be prepared for any of the following:

  • to research something on the fly
  • to find and buy something
  • drag my suitcase
  • carry my backpack
  • carry bags when shopping
  • attend a class with me (painting classes are fun)
  • locate something for me on google maps
  • type pages of my novels
  • untangle yarn and wind into balls
  • share posts about my book sales into a list of 25 groups on FB
  • help me finish a latch-hook rug or a cross stitch table cloth
  • run to the grocery store if I forgot something for supper or we ran out of milk
  • get my prescription from the pharmacy
  • run to the store to get milk and fresh bread

To serve me means that I can and will utilize your brain, your hands, your body, in whatever occupation or activity I desire from one minute to the next (within reason, limits, and our agreement). If I don’t want sex and we sit for three hours working a cross stitch table cloth, and I say thank you and send you home…that’s service for the day.

Not everything is about playing with your penis. I know this is a difficult thing to comprehend. Apparently it comes as quite a shock, as I’ve gotten some truly frightening responses to that revelation. One man who said he’d piss in my mouth if I’d been in front of him. Yup, he’s so submissive!

In fact, playing with the penis is the LEAST of what we will do. 

I’m not a professional dominatrix you’re hiring to do what you want to do for your allotted time span. I am a lifestyle dominant. There’s a tremendous difference between the two.

A professional dominatrix will do exactly what you want, to the degree you want, when you want because that’s what she’s paid to do. She’s not actually the boss of anything. The client is, and she has to keep the client happy if she wants him to book another session. She will not, however, have sex with you if you are her client. 

A lifestyle dominant does things how she wants to do them, because this is how she’s living her entire life. She is the boss. You’re going to do the things she wants and needs done. I gave my quick list. Perhaps another dominant will expect her sub/slave to change a tire, perform an oil change, generally be her personal mechanic. Maybe that should be part of the discussion over coffee, especially if you don’t have those skills. Sex will be what she wants it to be, not what you want it to be. Don’t assume she’s going to play with your penis how you want her to. Discuss it!

Can you discuss everything? No. That’s not realistic. Hit the big stuff first, meaning the things you really enjoy doing and the things you will not do. Along with that, make a list of the following items.

  • What does “service” mean to you?
  • What special skills do you have to offer?
  • What specialized knowledge do you have?
  • What do you have to offer that no one else can provide?

These are important questions you’ll be asked frequently. It would be nice if you have an answer ready.

Are you:
a good handyman
pet sitter/walker
good with taxes
make a mean pizza
willing to be a chauffer
an IT specialist who can help hook up the printers to the wireless network because everything she’s tried has failed and it’s beyond frustrating and she’s given the fuck up…(deep breath)

We keep pounding on these notions of communication and compatibility. 

This is exactly what it looks like.

————–

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She’s been doing this BDSM stuff for 30 years in private and 10 years in public venues. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crochet, coffee, and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

 

Naughty Slaves In Master’s Bed

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Mobi carried the breakfast tray up, opening the door without knocking and catching Arlyn with her fingers between her legs.

“You should never have to do that yourself,” he teased, shutting the door. “But don’t stop on my account.”

He placed the tray on the side table rather than on the bed this time.

“What is that?” she asked of the cage around his cock.

“It’s what Master puts on me when he doesn’t want me to fuck anyone that day.”

“Were you naughty?”

“You could say that,” he grinned. “I expressed my desire to have my cock inside you. He put this on me so I can’t do that today while he’s gone.”

She chuckled. “What a meanie. I just might have let you, too. Master fucked me this morning but didn’t let me have an orgasm. I need a good pussy pounding.”

“Well…there’s a flaw in the design he doesn’t know about and I’ve never told him exists,” Mobi said, and lifted his balls.

With careful maneuvering, he slipped one through the leather circle and then the other. The cage slid off easily.

“The circle around the top of my scrotum is too big,” he grinned.

She laughed loud as she pleased, knowing Harmen wasn’t around to hear it. He lifted her foot by the ankle, bending over at the same time to kiss that ankle. He kissed up her calf to the back of her knee, trailing his tongue along the divot between tendon and center. His hand led the way up her thigh, finding her pubic bush and the slickness left behind by fucking without satisfaction. 

She didn’t stop him as he parted her labia to suck her swollen clitoris down to her pelvic bone, his smooth inner lips sliding over her smooth flesh in a sensation that sent her into an instant, jerking, orgasm. She grunted a gasp and gave herself over to the succession of climaxes he gave her. 

His thumbs went into her vagina to pry it open, tongue following to slide in as far as his mouth would go over her, then out for the very tip to tease over her clitoris.

He looked up at her, lifted himself over her to kiss her lips.

“You? Are delicious. Would you please stroke my cock a moment? I’m dying to feel your hand on me.”

She reached between them, small hand down his belly and into his own mass of pubic hair. Her fingers parted to either side of his shaft, then turned to rest the palm atop it. Down to the base first, then slowly his entire length until she pulled his foreskin up over the tip, and back down again. He had a shaft just larger than her grip around him. That meant he was bigger around than her own wrist.

He groaned a deep and long sound, head dipping slightly. “You do that very well.”

“I better, for as much as men were bidding on me. Did your Master tell you how much he paid to fuck me?”

“He did. He said it was the best money he ever paid, even if you were limited due to pregnancy,” Mobi said honestly.

“You get to have me for free and I’m not limited by pregnancy anymore,” she smiled. “So you can fuck me nice and hard.”

“Not the first time,” he said, leaning his hips in for the head of his cock to find that prepared channel.

A slow but deep penetration as she shivered under him and her nipples popped out hard against his chest. They rode each other in a moderate but steady pace for a long time, he holding off his climax so that she could have as many as possible. He kissed her chest when she arched her back high and her fingernails dug into him hard.

“He really left you in a state,” he said after she’d had her fifteenth orgasm around his cock.

“He does that so he can have me even harder later,” she panted, and came again from the fullness of him.

“Do you like a cock up your ass?”

“Very much.”

“In this position or turned over?” he asked, pausing his motion. “How would you like it best right now?”

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously.”

“How many rules do you want to break right now?” she asked.

He grinned big. “All of them!”

“Get off me.”

He turned to land on his side next to her and she left the bed. She reached a hand into her own traveling pouch. She took out a quirt much like his own Master owned and returned to the bed to hold it out.

“I like to have my ass high up and my chest over a pillow while being fucked and whipped really hard.”

“Who’d you learn that from?” he asked, looking at the quirt. “This is Tridorian, isn’t it?”

“Yes. On the voyage over here, Zhurek gave me to the ship’s Captain for the duration of the trip. He liked to whip with that. He gave it to me during our last night together,” she said.

“But this will definitely leave marks,” he said.

“So what. We’re breaking all the rules, aren’t we?” she asked, reaching for the cup of cider to drink it empty.

“You and I are young,” he said. “Our Masters are old. It’s nice to be with someone closer to my own age.”

She chuckled. “He’s not that old. Only thirty-two.”

“But you are what? Eighteen? Nineteen? And I’m twenty. If ever you need a replacement for him, I will happily travel with you.”

“You don’t even know me,” she denied.

“I know you well enough,” he said, stretching out over her to have her ass as she was lying fully on her belly. “You may like it best with your ass high, but you’ll take it any way you can get it so long as the cock is big enough, hard enough, and forceful enough.”

That she could not deny. He certainly was big enough. Not just the cock but his entire physique. His cock was hard enough, unlike some of the old men that had fucked her in the bathhouse. And he was strong enough to be as forceful as she liked.

“I should thank your Master for teaching you to like a hard fucking. Mine taught me as well,” he said a few minutes later. 

He lifted onto his knees, an arm under her belly lifting her as well. Ass high, cheek to the bed, he gripped that little ass with one hand while sending the quirt down onto her shoulder blade with the other. She gave a shocked yelp with the deep bite of leather, and her hands swept her hair aside to give him a fully open field to mark up. He gripped her ass in both hands to ream her good a moment, then eased off his motion to lay on half a dozen stripes that popped up into red welts within seconds.

“Fuck that feels good,” she sighed when he sped up a little and laid on another stripe. 

He finally gave in to his orgasm, ejaculating in bursting spurts deep inside her anus.

“Keep fucking me this good and I just might let you travel with me,” she said as they lay beside each other to rest and catch their breath.

“Find a reason to have breakfast in your room and I’ll fuck you every day,” he smiled.

He left the bed to wash himself in the basin on the floor. When he returned, she was sitting up to eat. He lay behind her, a hand reaching around for her breast. She slid down to lie on her side and continue eating. He needed only a few minutes to grow hard again, and slid into her puss from behind.

“Eat your breakfast with a big cock in your puss,” he said, and set to kissing the various welts he’d put on her.

Small movements on his part kept him hard. She raised a foot, bending a knee, to give him wider access. She finished what she wanted of the very cold meal and rested her head on her arm and the pillow to enjoy the sensation of slow penetration.

“Your cock feels so nice,” she hummed.

“I would lie like this with you for hours,” he said. “Filling you slow the entire time until you wanted me to fuck you harder.”

“It feels good to be full, after so long not having sex at all.”

“I’m sure. How about I do this?”

He pushed his cock deep and stroked her clit as she had been doing when he’d arrived. She moved on him in time with his fingers, taking him deep into her puss when she was closest to that big passion-ending climax. 

At last she sank into it and froze in a whole-body clench that released and renewed several times before she smacked his hand away and lurched off his cock. In those seconds, as she lay breathless and limp, he rolled her onto her belly and had her ass one more time, for his own pleasure. Hard and sharp for the couple minutes he needed to be done himself.

In the quiet of breathing, she fell asleep on him, utterly exhausted by his endurance. He washed himself again, disposed of the water and cleaned the bowl. He put the quirt back into her pouch and searched for the diary she’d taken from Master. It was not there. He gave up that search, not wanting her to catch him looking, and put the cock cage back on. 

He took the tray down to the kitchen and asked for a midmeal for them both. When it was ready, he carried it up and put it on the small dining table. The sound of dishes being moved roused her. She sat up and stretched, saw what he was doing.

“I thought we should sit at the table this time. Give your pussy a rest.”

She left the bed and sat naked at the table. He sat naked opposite her, the cock cage still on.

“How long will they be gone?” she asked.

“Who knows. Master has a hunting lodge on the other end of the hunting grounds. He’ll have the midmeal there. Then they will hunt their way back here. Unless they caught both animals on the way out. If they did, they’ll be back sooner. If they did not, they’ll take longer. Closer to supper.”

“Fucking again could be dangerous,” she teased.

“Not if I fuck you standing at a rear window so we can see them coming into the yard,” he teased back.

That was exactly what they did. He had her from behind while she looked out over the land to the rear, and saw the dogs and horses coming up the road from the village. The Masters on horses were first, the dogs all around them with tongues hanging out and tails wagging for the good sport. Behind them, two men carried a deer on a long pole. Another pair carried a big boar.

Mobi felt her excitement surge on seeing her Master.

“Fuck me hardest! Right now!” she blurted.

Watching her Master coming up the road about to be caught if they didn’t hurry up, she had one more huge and hard climax as he exploded his into her. He pulled out as the Masters were dismounting. She pulled a simple dress over herself. He gave her one more kiss and a grasp of her puss.

“To be continued tomorrow,” he promised, and was out the door.

Excerpt from Arlyn: Adjutant & Apostle

—–

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle,” four cartoon, and twenty-something fiction books.

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler

FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

The Truth About Your Privacy At Public Events

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  1. If you go to a munch, or other event, your privacy is assured.

There was a writing I saw on a Fet site, of people getting all up in arms because someone attending a munch told other people in the restaurant what the group was about. 

Seems people thought that a public munch, in a public restaurant, on a public street, somehow afforded them anonymity and personal privacy. 

They didn’t like it at all when I pointed out that the wait staff knew all about them and was probably talking about them in the kitchen the entire time. Every time the group holds their munch in that place. 

Not to mention the fact that, if they’d paid their tab with a credit card, the restaurant had their legal names too. No one I know has a Mastercard or a Visa in their scene name.

People like to delude themselves into thinking they’re not out, that they are completely anonymous. Well, guess what? If you go to a public event, any public event, you’re out. 

You’re not anonymous anymore. You lost your anonymity the second you stepped into the venue and joined that group.

Recently there was a rope demonstration at the Museum of Sex here in NYC. Pictures were taken after people were told not to take pictures. Some NYC SM scene attendees were up in arms over what they saw as a breach of protocol and privacy.

Here’s the thing. It was the press taking pictures. 

Because it was a publicly attended event, they may have taken pictures of the audience too. It’s perfectly legal. There’s nothing anyone can do about it because there is no expectation of privacy at a publicly attended event.

That means those professional pictures will be wherever they are sold. Newspapers, magazines, websites, etc. 

Sure, people can complain to the Museum of Sex. What will the museum do? Tell those people not to attend such events in the future…or they might decide not to hold those types of events in the future. Neither of those outcomes is all that positive. 

In the end, the people complaining will only have made an uptight nuisance of themselves. 

Apparently I’m the only person who realizes that NO EVENT HELD IN A PUBLIC PLACE IS EVER GOING TO BE PRIVATE. Your anonymity goes out the door when you walk through it to take your seat.

If you go to a Broadway show, you are told to turn off and put cellphones away. No pictures. The press can still take pictures if they are present. Doesn’t matter if the big booming voice said “NO PICTURES!!!” The person with the press tag can take them if they want. They can use a flash if they need to. That’s why they’re there in the first place. 

They are authorized. Audience members aren’t. If you’re in the audience, you’re fair game to have your picture taken and used however the photographer and the venue choose. 

If the Museum of Sex wants to have the press present at their neato rope demonstration with that famous name rigger, they can do that. They don’t have to inform you before you buy your ticket, or when you arrive. It’s assumed you realize these things.

If the person with the camera wants to take pictures of the audience, they can do that too. They don’t have to ask you first. There is no “scene etiquette” at the Museum of Sex because this is NOT a scene venue run by scene promoters who understand scene issues of personal privacy. This is a public venue and there is no such thing as personal privacy. 

If you read the fine print of your ticket closely enough, you may even see a disclaimer that attendance is your permission to have your picture taken and used in their brochures and advertisements. You know, like the audience at concerts becomes part of the music video of the live show.

It’s not reasonable to expect “scene level” personal privacy from a demonstration at the Museum of Sex. They advertise their exhibits on the subway and to the tourists.

“Scene level” personal privacy is itself a lie. 

I don’t expect any privacy when I’m walking into my preferred dungeon. The address and the word CLUB are on the door…and you know damn well that everyone who lives on that street KNOWS the club is down there. They know what that club is all about because people in leather and latex are standing outside smoking, being loud, and keeping people awake at ass O’clock in the morning.

Are people sitting up in their apartments with a camera trained on the door, to see who goes in?

Probably not. 

Is anyone taking pictures for evidence…or their own private voyeurism kink?

I’m sure not. 

Umm…Hmm.

When it comes to matters of personal privacy, when walking into public venues, you’re safer to assume there IS NO personal privacy.

Make your decisions accordingly.

—–

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She’s been doing this BDSM stuff for 30 years in private and 10 years in public venues. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can read the rest of the 50 lies in Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07HVS2H2T

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

She enjoys crochet, coffee, and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

Riding the Pole—Ties

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“I think you need more of the attention I used to give you,” he said. “Far more of my hands before the satisfaction of my cock.”

“That could be—”

His hand strong over her mouth silenced her.

“That required no response from you.”

He felt her energy jolt and sizzle against his. A few words, a small action, and he had almost total control over her. His hands slid down her belly to her thighs, reach for her knees. Strong fingers tensed, arms bending to lift her compliant knees from the bed. He raised her feet as well, his own knees bending under hers. He raised her bodily, putting her down atop his lower belly.

He lowered her thighs to rest on top of his. Parting his legs opened hers as wide as he wanted her to be. Bringing his up higher angled her sex for easier reach, his cock below.

The smell of her, musky and heady, hit a certain spot in his brain that resulted in an instant erection. He stroked himself fully hard and pressed his cock against her wide open slit. She couldn’t move much, but tried to slid herself against his rod.

Knees down, moved to the outside of hers, he forced her thighs to close, capturing his cock in the space between her thighs and dripping wet puss. She had a pole to ride whenever he wanted her to.

His hands slid down her arms to capture her wrists and bring her hands behind his own back. He held them in his left hand, his arm against hers, fist in the small of his back. She had to relax into him in order to avoid straining her shoulders too much.

Right hand returned to slide a hard palm across both breasts, giving the nipples a long sandpaper-like rub that had her squirming against his cock.

“That’s what I want. Remember how Tight I used to wind you up? How desperate I could make you before fucking you?” 

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed, his finger and thumb gently rolling a nipple.

The hand opened, delivering a scorching smack that stiffened her from neck to knees. Her thighs squeezed tighter around his cock, ass pressing down into his pelvic triangle.

“You want some of that?” he asked.

“Please, Sifu.”

“Already with the please, Sifu.”

His hand struck the other breast, full on open palm that compelled a cough of a cry from her. She ground downward again.

“I love that sound,” he rumbled into her ear. “It means you’re ready to burst.”

Harder smack to the left and her groan was one of relief. The warm, wet flood accompanied the sound, providing slick lubrication for her riding.

“Ride me. Keep me hard.”

She obeyed, thighs crushing together and hips moving faster for half a minute every time he struck her breasts. He paused between each to let her ride the wave and come down. After about ten minutes, he increased the frequency to every ten seconds to keep her going at a steadier pace and not let her rest. 

Smacking left and then right, back and forth, one per second, had her bouncing off his chest and trying to turn away from his hand. His knees would not let her loose. A quick adjustment of his feet trapped hers to the mattress. She wasn’t fighting him so much as struggling to take the increasing intensity.

Her reactions, her raw passion, brought his climax through his body to spurt upward and splatter onto her from midthigh to lower belly. Hand gripping a tit tight had her shuddering with orgasm while his cock throbbed incessantly against her clit. He pumped his hips slow, prolonging his orgasm and milking out several more small blobs of semen.

“How about that,” he said. “I just used you to masturbate myself with.”

“I admit. That is a new one,” she huffed.

She tried to move away, to reach for the towel. He stopped her, holding her wrists in both hands to keep her in place.

“I’m not done with you. Turn over on my lap.”

“But—”

“But what? My cum is on you? Yours is all over me. So what. Lie across my lap, ass in the middle.”

She complied, squishing drops and splotches of his slimy jism between them.

“Bring me a box of gloves and the lube,” he said as she dragged a pillow to stuff under her shoulders and head so she wouldn’t be nearly upside down.

The requested items appeared beside him. Head resting comfortably, eyes closed, she heard him pull two gloves out, heard the plastic cap snap open, a sputter of air coming out of the tube with the clear gel. Two slicked up fingers slipped into her anus, unhurried but not stopping with her gasp. He drove in to the base of his fingers, making her take their length without allowing adjustment.

“Remember when we used to do this for an hour?” he asked.

“Mmmhmm,” she sighed, relaxing over him.

Two fingers of his other hand went into her vagina, driving in as the other fingers slid partway out. Alternating, she was fingerfucked through several rounds of gut-wrenching orgasms. Her cum splashed and dripped, soaking them both down to the mattress before he decided it was enough.

——-

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

 

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

How To Be A Dom For Him on His Birthday

By 2 Comments

This is a simple guide intended for all those subbie/bottom chicks who have a sorta switchie/kinda dom boyfriend who has asked you to “dom” him for a night.

I know. He wants this but you have no idea what to do. And that huge group for submissive women is no help whatsoever because no one in it is allowed to speak from a top perspective. (Seriously, this is why you should be a member of my Give It To Me Straight group.)

You’re not accustomed to holding the cane, the flogger, the wooden spoon, etc, except to hand it to him when he tells you to. You don’t have the foggiest idea where to begin even though he’s done this stuff to you a thousand times.

Here’s a step by step guide that will hit all the important points and get you through the first scene. Yes, it’s partially tongue-in-cheek. It’s also a solid scene for a baby sadist or budding new top.

Today is your switchy dom’s birthday and you want to do something special for him!

HERE YA GO!!!

Items you will need: 

1 Wooden spoon

1 Velvet glove

No, really, that’s it. I believe in simplicity.

Pre-negotiation — I don’t believe in negotiating things to the nth degree. If he wants you to “dominate” him, then he’s just going to have to shut up and submit to what you will do. However, be sure to make him agree that he will NOT issue any reprisals. He asked you for this.

Step 1. Get wooden spoon from kitchen.

Step 2. Tell him to bare his ass and bend over.

Note: Steps 1 and 2 can be done in reverse order if you want to see him bent over with his ass and balls hanging out while you take your time getting the spoon. Pour yourself a glass of water while you’re in there. There’s no hurry. You know very well that the anticipation of what is to come can be very exciting.

Step 3. Start whapping his but at a moderate speed and force. When he whimpers and whines, call him a sissy boy and tell him to shut up.

Step 4. If he wiggles his butt, tell him wiggling means you’ll hit harder. And then DO hit harder if he wiggles again.

Step 5. Put on velvet glove.

Step 6. Give the balls hangin’ there a good feelsie and a squeeze. Not enough to get him off, but enough to get him hard.

Step 7. Turn wooden spoon around so you’re holding the spoon end and the handle becomes a short cane. Continue whapping the butt. Top, middle, bottom. You know that spot you hate, where the thigh meets the buttocks? Yeah, get him there really good.

Step 8. Tell him that anything he sticks out is going to get whapped. When he changes the arc of his back to stick his balls out, whap them.

Note: Give him a few seconds after a particularly hard whap. Give the spot a little rub and say “Awwww poor baby. Did that hurt?” When he says yes, correct him to say “Yes, Ma’am” or “Yes, Mistress.” Then give his balls an unexpectedly hard whap.

Step 9. Ask him if he is liking all this. When he says yes, correct him to say “Yes, Ma’am” or “Yes, Mistress.” Then give his balls an unexpectedly hard whap. If he says no, correct him to say “No, Ma’am” or “No, Mistress”, and ask him if he’s wimping out of the birthday present he asked you for. If he says yes, then you are off the hook for ever having to do this again. He will have learned the lesson. If he says he’s not wimping out, continue to the next step.

Step 10. Add a brief interrogation to the scene. Spend a couple minutes asking simple questions and making him answer and address you as Ma’am or Mistress. Now would be a good time to ask him something that you’ve wanted to know. Did he drink from the milk carton as you suspected? Did he eat the last of the ice cream? Why do your panties come up missing and suddenly reappear in the dirty clothes? Whatever thing you’ve noticed, now is the time to find out.

Step 11. If at any point he says something along the lines of “do this” or “do it like that” then you take him by the top of the ear and squeeze tightly so that your nails dig in a little. Pull his head back toward you and scowl into his ear *”shut up unless you want this to stop.”*

Repeat steps 3 through 11 as necessary until he’s a blithering puddle of goo saying “Thank you, Ma’am” at your feet. 

Step 12. If he gets mouthy, saying you’re not hitting hard enough, make him wait while you go into the kitchen. Get your smallest frying pan and use that as a paddle instead. He’ll stop mouthing off.

When you’re done, sit down with wooden spoon (or frying pan) in your hand and tell him to go make you a glass of wine. 

While he is gone, you pick up the remote control and turn on the television to whatever show you want to watch. Don’t ask if he minds. It’s not for him to mind. He’s your submissive during this time. Watch what you want, for as long as you want.

Make him crouch on the floor at your feet rather than letting him sit on the sofa next to you. Anytime he opens his mouth to say he doesn’t like the show, tell him to go get you something. Your slippers, your robe, another glass of wine, a sandwich.

Or put your foot in his face, tell him to shut his mouth and give you a foot massage. If he asks for aftercare, tell him “THIS is the aftercare. Shut up and keep rubbing.”

You will probably want to let him off the hook after the foot massage. By then, I’m sure he will have had his fill for the year.

If he wants you to do this multiple times through the year, you can add in things like making him lick your puss, kiss your foot, lick your shoe, make and bring you tea or coffee…or a sammich. 

If he makes the tea or sammich incorrectly, you can tell him to bend over on the floor so you can use him as a footstool. He can’t make a decent sammich, so obviously his only good use is as a piece of furniture.

You can make him do the laundry, scrub the toilet, do the dishes, sweep the floor, mop the floor. You can make this fun by chasing him around with a longer cane while he does them. A $5 oak dowel from Home Depot will do you just fine. They’re about three feet long and work perfectly well so long as you don’t swing like you’re chopping down a tree.

One of two things will result from this session. Either he will NEVER ask you to top or dom him ever again because he wasn’t careful what he wished for, or he will completely flip sides and want you to be the dom from now on. In the bedroom *and* out.

While there is a middle ground of the two of you regularly switching roles in the bedroom, that middle ground isn’t usually where things end up.

Above all…

HAVE FUN!

DTR

* Note: The word dom/dominant is used for simplicity, because that is what most people who don’t know any better use when they really mean top.

 

——-

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.