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Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Place Setting (story)


You can be so mean, so cruel. You make me watch you eat the dinner I made for you. But I can't eat. I can't drink. I'm only allowed to watch....

I made you the dinner you like. I had to start last night. I made the honey mustard marinade from scratch: pepper, vinegar, honey and Dijon mustard over a low flame. I let it cool and threw in the thin slices of pork and let it sit overnight. After cooking the pork up, with green beans and sliced, rosemary red potatoes, I placed it on the table. I poured you a glass of Boom Boom Syrah.

I quickly changed into the clothes you wanted me to wear and stood by the table, hands behind me, wrists crossed, head bowed. You have me wearing a long sleeved, high-necked, white blouse. A very short black skirt. Black hose and black lace panties underneath, and black heels with ankle straps.

When you came in just as I was bowing my head, I waited for you to be ready for dinner. When you came out of the bedroom, you had changed, but you also brought out some of my gear. I was a little confused...

You patted the table. I climbed onto it and knelt. You stood behind me and used heavy, leather cuffs on my ankles, pulled my wrists behind me an did the same. You locked me up with little padlocks. You helped me to lay down on my stomach and lifted my chin up with one finger.

I knew what was coming next and obediently opened my mouth. You placed my soft bit gag in, slowly pushing into the corners of my mouth, past my teeth. You pulled the straps tight and buckled the gag. I let my eyes close and a small moan escaped me.

You pulled on the chain of my hand cuffs. At the same time you pressed down on my legs. My arms were strained a little and my back bowed somewhat, my head lifted higher off the table. Then I heard the loud click of the final padlock. You had me in a simple and vicious hogtie.

You came back around and sat down to your dinner. You took a a sip of wine and watched me for a few minutes. I made some small noises, little moans of discomfort. I begged you a little with my eyes and made the right noises to go along with the begging.

You left the table. I gave it a minute before I started mmmphing your name softly. Asking you from around the bit gag to come back. Soon, I was just saying a gagged “please” over and over. I rewarded you with a happy sigh when you came back.

You placed a small dish under my chin. I sighed in a dismayed fashion; you were going to keep like this for some time.

I watched you eat slowly. Smiling. Savoring each bite that I was not allowed to have. Sighing after each sip of red wine that I was not allowed taste. I wanted it to. And my arms began to ache.

You held the glass under my nose, letting me smell the deliciousness. You took it away and I moaned loudly. And the first line of drool came from over my lower lip, sliding down my chin and dripping onto the plate below.

You took another bite.

You are so mean, so cruel. You can be so bad. You make me suffer the way I like to. I love the way you make me hurt so I get that tight feeling down there, making me wet. You smile as more drool cascades down. You re-fill your glass. You make me hate you in a loving way.

After dinner, I hope you let me show you how much I desperately hate you...





The wine in the story:


It's almost 6am, so I will be going to sleep. Dreaming, of leather, lavender, soft lips on me, and murmured desires.

Gagged kisses for those of you sleeping, going to sleep and just now waking up...

.mmmmmpphhh......

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Not Wanting to Drown (DiD) story




When I came to, the warm ocean water was already around my knees.

As my head and vision started to clear, I began to remember what had happened the night before. I blinked the fog out of my eyes and as my memory came back, I realized just how much trouble I was in.

Last night was a celebratory evening. I had just cracked a story on political corruption that led me to this small, Caribbean island where the main industry was banking. A lot of dirty money became clean here and the lead I had brought me here. Once all the facts came into place, I wrote my story, edited it loaded it onto a memory stick. The island was remote enough that I couldn't just send the story out by email; I had to wait for the satellite for the connection.

So, after I wrote the story, saved it, I ordered room service and got a bottle of champagne. After the servant left, I poured a glass of Armand de Brignac brut champagne and changed into my silk, black, nightie. I like to be comfortable when drinking very expensive champagne...besides, my editor was paying for it.

There was a knock at the door and room service was back again. Only it wasn't the young man from before. He was much taller and didn't look very friendly. But he said that he needed to check on some plumbing as there was a problem from the floor below.

As I turned around to look back a the room's bathroom, he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me up. I hitched in a breath to scream, but his other hand clamped over my mouth with a damp cloth. He kicked the door closed behind him and manhandled me into the room.

There wasn't much I could do. His one huge arm had my small arms pinned to my side and I was having trouble breathing. Not just because his other hand was so large that it covered both my nose and mouth, but that the damp cloth was soaked in chloroform.

I knew I had only a few seconds left to get free. I struggled as hard as I could. I was kicking my legs up and high, trying to come back on his shins; I think he just laughed. I tried wrenching myself out of his arm by twisting my shoulders violently, but that just made me take in more of the sweet smelling chloroform I made a gamble and screamed..but his hand simply muffled me.

I felt my body growing weaker and my eyes weren't staying open. As I started to go under, I could feel my arms flail limply around. I was able to reach up and lightly slap at the arm holding me, but it was useless. I blinked, trying to stay awake and I was moaning into the cloth.

Finally, my body stopped listening to me and my eyes closed for the last time....

It's always disconcerting waking up after being chloroformed. You have no idea what has happened to you while you were under. You have no idea where you are or what your immediate predicament is. That's probably why it took me so long to figure out how much trouble I was in.

As I came to, I took stock of my clothes. My nightie was still on me. My panties seemed to be on as well. I didn't feel any bruising or sore spots and there didn't seem to be any violations; in other words, no stick stuff between my legs. So, whatever happened, the worst was probably some groping, but no rape. I closed my eyes briefly in thanks and opened them again.

I realized that I could just see the dock from the hotel in the distance. The sun was on its way down, but I had plenty of time before darkness. So I screamed for help.

And realized I was gagged.

Being chloroformed can really mess up your ability to think. Only then did I take stock of the situation.

My mouth was cleave gagged with a knot going past my teeth. And over that was a very tight gag covering the cleave gag and my mouth, pinching into my cheeks. I screamed again. I was pretty well silenced, no way they could hear me way over on the dock.

I looked around and discovered that I was in the water. Only, the water had now risen to my thighs and my nightie was starting to float on the water. What was worse was that I was tied to a post. From the looks of it, the post was part of an older dock that had burned down long ago. I was pretty far out. And I just felt the water creep up another couple of inches.

The tide was coming in.

My legs were tide together at my ankles, and lashed to the post, the knot uncomfortably resting on top of my feet. My wrists were tied behind me, with the post coming up between my arms. My arms were pulled back enough that I couldn't pull myself too far forward. And now the water is at my waist; the tide is really coming in quick and soon...I would be underwater, drowning...

Pulling myself forward, I grunted with effort. I panicked and just simply twisted my wrists a little, trying to get free. Once the warm water came up just under my breasts, I tried to push myself up the post. I was hoping that the water would provide enough buoyancy that I could just slip myself up and over...but my ankles were too well-lashed to the post.

The water slipped over my breasts. I could feel my nightie billowing in the water. The crowd on the dock had absolutely no idea that I was going to die in a few minutes. I leaned against the post and the water came up a little further....

I relaxed my body and tired to clear my mind. I was trying to figure way out when I noticed a little slippage of the rope on my wrists. I paused for a moment and did a slow twist of my wrists.

The rope loosened a little!

The only problem was that the tide was just about done. In a minute or so, My head would be completely underneath the tide and I would drown, mere inches away from precious air.

I calmed myself down again and worked my wrists slowly. The rope was coming undone, but too slowly. The ocean was rapidly rising. I had to tip my gagged face up, the water was just under my chin.

The rope was almost off and I started to panic; the water was sloshing into my nose. I whimpered and squealed and for a joust a couple of seconds I thrashed and screamed for help. Head tilted up, nose and eyes just above the waterline, I calmed down and took a breath and felt triumph; the rope came undone and my arms were free!!!!

The ocean slipped over my head just as I took a gulp of air. I was completely under water and I made to kick up and with horror I realized that I had forgotten.

My legs were still tied to the post.

Blinking, I looked down and could see my toes wriggling next to a starfish. I looked up, my hair billowing around my eyes and then almost screamed as my vision went black, but it was just my nightie floating upwards.

My lungs started to burn a little and my heart began to pound a little harder. I bent over, pushing my nighties down. The water slowed me down some, but I was able to reach the knot with my hands and start to undo it.

As I fumbled with the knot, my lungs were in pain, an my heart was trying to pound right through my chest. Withing moments, my fingers seemed to get clumsy, and I noticed bubbles floating up my face.

The light hitting the water was beautiful. It was so warm, the water felt so lovely. I started to calm down and my hands seemed to rise on their own. Everything seemed to feel okay...I was getting sleepy and all I had to do was let my breath go....

I shook my head quickly, blinked, and realized how close to dying I was. I had no more air left. But if I let it out, the ocean water would come in and that would be it. I could hear myself squealing involuntarily.

My hand slapped at the knot and I forced my fingers to work and I finally got the knot undone. I turned in the water, grabbed the post and started to kick up when my lungs forced the foul air out of my body, through my nose and as I ascended rapidly, water poured down my throat choking me.

I blindly groped upward, my moans sounding weird underwater until I hit the surface. In my panic, I struggled towards shore. Whimpering, choking, moaning slapping at the water with my hands, kicking hard, keeping my head up high, until I felt sand on my stomach.

The weak surf helped to push to the beach. Still not believing that I was really safe from drowning, I clawed as far up onto the beach as my body would let me. Exhausted, I had to stop and I collapsed.

It took forever to pull the pull the gags off my face. I lay huffing on the sand, my pulse pounding in my head. My head laying on the hot sand with my eyes closed. My breathing eventually became regular, and I was starting to feel better. But, I really wanted to sleep, but suddenly a pair of flip flops and a pair of boots came into view.

I slowly looked up, and my heart sank. Standing over me was the guy who kidnapped me and the guy in the flip flops...he was the subject of my article. I knew I was about to faint, but I looked up and said, “I hid it.”

And as I laid my head back down on the sand, I heard the villain say to his henchman, “OK, search the room for it. Oh, and Robert?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Next time...use chains.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Was thinking about this scene while at work today. Hope you enjoyed the story!!

Oh, here's the link to the champagne:  http://www.armanddebrignac.de/

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Link to the Super Bowl Bet

Please check out my other blog site...and if you are looking for the Super Bowl Bet video...


http://grabbedandgagged.blogspot.com/2015/03/because-i-lost-super-bowl-bet-part-2.html


A little pic from that night...






Sunday, March 15, 2015

The Drool Apology (story)


The room, as always, is almost bare. You have only the one light on; a single light bulb hanging down from the ceiling. It creates a very small circle of dim light, and in it is a large, dark pillow. You have me kneeling on it.
The rest of the room is dark. I can see, but only to a point where it goes to black. The hardwood floor would be cold if it wasn't for the pillow. I can't see the walls now, but during the day I can see how you have them painted a very cold gray color. But tonight, I can only see a little bit of Baltimore's light coming through the windows to my left. It doesn't show much. I hear more than see the rain hitting the windows.
Just outside of the circle of light, I can see the camera. The tripod is at its lowest setting, pointing up at me, at my face. The red light is on. It's been on for thirty minutes now, I think. My arms are very tired.
I put on the outfit you laid out for me. The box the outfit came in was sitting on the sofa when I let myself in. I read your little note and put on the garments: black lace bra and panties, black stockings, black heels, a very dark lavender slip.
I had turned on the camera and finished the rest of your instructions. I leaned down and put on the heavy leather ankle cuffs, a small chain connecting them. I had opened my tiny mouth as much as I could. You wanted me to wear the large, black ball gag tonight.
The ball stretched my mouth as I pulled the straps back, the ball pushing past my teeth, I buckled the straps in back, tightly, the same with the chin straps...the ball firmly in my mouth, stretching my lips...uncomfortable and the message was clear; I am to suffer.
The wrist cuffs were dangling in front of me, hanging by a chain coming down from an eyehook. Tiny padlocks on each cuff but no keys. You are controlling me tonight. I snap the padlocks into place, locking myself in.
I drop down slowly, knowing the camera will eventually see my gagged face. As I lower down to the pillow, bending my knees, my hands seem to be pulled up. By the time I am kneeling, my wrists are high above me, my arms stretched as far as they can go. I let my head hang forward as I look into the lens of the camera.
That was thirty minutes ago, give or take.
My arms are straining. I try not to move, it seems that when I do I either put more weight on my arms or strain them even more. They're tired now. I'm hoping you come back soon and give me some relief.
My mouth is also sore. My jaw is feels like my arms, all strained and sore. The ball fills my mouth, pressing down on my tiny, pink tongue and pushing against the roof my mouth. I whimper a little.
The door opens and while light pours in, I can only see your shadow, I hear you walk closer. You stop just behind the camera. I hear something swish in the air. Then you step forward and to my right, I look up at you with pleading eyes; I'mso sore.
"You haven't drooled yet."
I shake my head and give you a "I'm sorry" look.
"You know that's a live feed, right? They want you to drool."
I look back down at the camera, pleading with my eyes, apologizing with them, wondering who is watching and if they even care about my silent apologies.
"Such a bad girl."
I feel the crop you've been holding under my chin. The leather whispers under my chin and up one cheek.
"Tell them you're sorry."
Looking into the camera, the crop slowly sliding away, "Ahhmssmmrrry..."
As soon as I give my gagged apology to the watchers, I feel it. It's warm and and it trickles from the top of the ball. In a small, quicksilver movement it tickles my lower lip and then slips right over my chin. A nice, long, un-breaking silver line of drool dropping to the floor with a plop.
You've moved behind me. You use the crop to lift the slip up and off my bottom
and caress each cheek in small circles with the crop. I close my eyes and make a small noise...more drool.
"I'm going to hurt you now. And each time I hit you, you will apologize to all the people watching you. Starting...now."
The sharp sting makes me squeal and then moan, throwing my head up a little, closing my eyes. When I open them, breathing a little heavier, ""Ahhmssmmrrry..."
More drool.
SMACK!
"Ahhmssmmrrry..."
More drool.
SMACK!
"Ahhmssmmrrry..."
You aren't stopping. My bottom is stinging. I'm screaming my gagged apologies. I haven't cried yet, but I will. And the drool...
It just cascades down over my chin. From the top of the ball or from under it, the drool just keeps coming as I moan, as I breathe, as I scream into the gag. My chin and lips are slick and drowning in my drool.
I'm getting messy. The pain sears, the drool flows, my eyes are half-lidded as I scream myself into subspace. Not caring, wanting to be messy for everyone, to be dirty, to be nasty, to be punished, body jerking with each strike, screaming, pushing the drool out of my mouth, knowing that there are people who are watching me, watching me degrade, enjoying my humiliation, forcing me to be bad, watching me get more messier, making me their fantasy...their helpless, submissive, pain-induced fantasy-victim...knowing they will be reaching a climax while watching me and I. Just. Can't. Stop. Drooling.
You strike me again and my scream falls into a moan. Chest heaving, drool all over me, the red light of the camera, another thick line of drool falling and hitting my knees...
Please, baby, oh please, please, pleasepleasepleasePLEASE...make me cum, baby...please....
And then you lean into my ear, I can almost feel the evil grin on your face, "I'm going to leave you now. I want you to apologize. I want you to beg them. I'll be back in thirty minutes."
I look back to the camera and beg. I apologize. I ache. My mouth aches, my arms aches. My stomach is tight, my panties feel uncomfortable and wet. I beg. And when I hear the lock on the door click, that's when the first tear slides down my face as I whimper out another "sorry"....oh, god, I need it from you so badly baby, come back, oh please come back...
"Ahhmssmmrrry..."
And the drool doesn't stop....


Monday, February 23, 2015

A Side Business (story)



I just stood in your bedroom, head bowed, my hands behind me, crossed a the wrists. I waited for you to set up the camera, shivered a little at the draft. It's cold in here when winter comes.

I heard you snap your fingers and I slowly looked up. First, I saw you sitting in the plush chair behind the camera, chin in hand, looking bored. As I raised my chin, I noticed that the little red light on top of the camera was on; you were already recording, a feed to your laptop, also recording.

You sighed and made a motion with your chin. When we do this type of video, you don't like to be in it. You only want me to be shown. I am to be the subject, the only thing of importance for these types of videos. When you nodded with your chin, that was my cue.

I looked into the camera and said nothing. the only sound was the heat coming through the vents, almost a soft purring sound. After a moment, I started to slowly turn around, hands still behind my back, wrists crossed.

As I turned, I gave a full view of what I was wearing. A long-sleeved, white satin blouse, buttoned all the way up, a black cameo on my neck. My skirt was simply black and came just above my knees. My legs themselves were bare, but I was wearing black heels.

After I came full circle, I stopped and gazed into the camera again. My hair was slicked back, normally brown, but when like this, almost black. I was wearing make up, which made my lips redder and fuller, my brown eyes bigger. I brought my hands to my sides and waited for the next cue.

You snapped your fingers, the only sound you would permit from yourself to be on camera. While looking into the camera, I reached behind me and unzipped the skirt. I brought them back and up to my waist, slowly moving my hips while pushing down on the skirt until gravity took over and it slid down my legs to the floor. I stepped out of the skirt and took one step forward.

My hands floated up as I still stared into the lens. They started at my collar and slowly unbuttoned it. I licked my lips as I went to the next one. I found myself swaying a little, as if to music while my hands worked their way down the blouse. I took my time.

I hesitated as the blouse fluttered. I looked down, embarrassed. When I looked back up, at you sitting behind the camera, I shrugged my shoulders and the satin blouse slipped of my shoulders, made a rustling sound as it slipped down my arms and onto the floor.

I was wearing my white lace today. White, lace panties. But I know you weren't looking at my lace, but at the red rope wrapped over my torso. A simple karada tie over my body.

The rope cut into my skin. Whenever I moved, it moved. It restricted my chest. It dug up into my crotch, a small, uncomfortable knot pressing against the lace, pressing into me. Sitting, standing, walking, always there, never letting me forget..making me sigh, tiring me, making me desire...you made me wear it all day...

My hands went to my back. I closed my eyes to concentrate. You made the release knot a little bit higher than normal. I had to lean forward as my hands went up, fingertips finally clasping on the right end.

I pulled the rope with a single, strong tug. I could feel the knot simply melt away and for just a moment, the rope was still tight on me. Suddenly there was release, the tightness gone in a moment. the ropes almost springing from my body, they just fell off of me. My eyes still closed, my hand shot up and covered my mouth as I let out a small sound, as my other hand went to my stomach.

Oh, this feels SO delicious....

I composed myself and worked the rope off of me. I still had to pull a little on the crotch rope and I let out a very small whimper as the knot popped out. I hadn't realized how far it worked itself in.

Almost naked, I stood for a moment, savoring the new freedom from the soft, red, rope I had worn all day. I gave the camera a little smile. A knowing look.

My fingers slid down my sides, into my panties. My fingers hooked into the lace, I pushed the panties down my legs very, very, slowly. Once I was to my ankles, I stood back up and with one motion, kicked the panties a little bit forward..

I sunk to my knees. Eyes never leaving the camera. I placed my hands behind me again. Wrists crossed, just like before. I bent forward, eyes looking up, knowing that you are watching me, knowing that whoever will be watching this will be watching me.

I used my small, pink tongue to flick at my panties on the floor. Languidly, sighs coming out of me. Until finally my teeth could find purchase. I sat back up. Rested on my heels, completely naked, except for my black stilettos. My face serene and compliant, eyes in that soft un-focus of subspace. The white, lace panties that I had worn all day, hanging from my mouth...

You went to the laptop and typed something in and then pulled out a memory stick. Another tap and the red light on the camera went out. You placed the stick into a large envelope while you walked to me.

You knelt in front of me and held out your hand. I leaned forward and dropped the panties into your hand. You held it for a moment, held it to your nose and lips. You finally smiled as you placed it into the envelope with the memory stick. You placed it on the floor between us. The address was a town somewhere in California. A movie and my panties for a nice sum of money. Our nice, little side business...

You reach out and caress my face. I press my cheek into your palm, closing my eyes for a moment. As I open them, I turn my face a little and place a small kiss into your hand. Your thumb glides over my cheek, a hungry look starts to come over you.

I like that look. It means that I've done well and that I should be rewarded. We both know how this goes. I lick my lips and tell you what I want. What you want to hear.

I whisper, "Make me do it...oh, please...please...make me scream..."

Friday, February 13, 2015

Fifty Shades of Grey...a Review...


Ok, before we press on, I have to issue the following:

SPOILER ALERTS!!! SPOILER ALERTS!!!  SPOILER ALERTS!!!!

You have been warned...read at your own risk...ok...deep breath...fuck, ok, here we go...



For those of you who know me, or more to the point, have encountered me on Fetlife, you know how much I hated...fucking hated...this series of erotic fiction that turned into a huge ass best-seller despite it being poorly molded into book form from poorly written fan-fiction by an adult admirer of Twilight...fucking Twilight!!!!

I hated reading the series so much.  Part of it being that it felt like that the author, E.L. James, simply came over to Fetlife and ripped off all of us who like to write erotic stories...and did an incredibly bad job of it.  I was so angry and disgusted by the success of a hack who appeared to rip off the numerous writers, and made me feel that what I was writing was just crap as well, that I decided to stop writing fiction.  This is how much I hated the books.

So, I saw the movie tonight.

Sigh, I know, I know.  But sometimes, when you've invested yourself in something, it's really hard to stop.  I sort of put myself in the category of Twilight-haters who still saw all the movies in the theatre;  we bought into the hate and came to the darkside.  That's the best way I can describe why I watched this move.

So, let's start off with the good stuff...yes, there were good points to the movie.  Even for a hater like me!!!

The soundtrack to this movie is going to be a must-have.  You will *love* it.  The best way I can describe it is that I would use it for my Grabbed & Gagged videos!!  I will be buying the soundtrack when it comes out.  Even if you never watch the movie or read the books...you will like it anyway!!

There are numerous, erotic scenes that go on.  They are well-choreographed and the persons hired to run the scenes are (and according to the credits) pretty professional.  They are sexy.  They are hot.  They are worth the price of admission.  Now, just to let you know, those of us who are hardcore into this...it's going to be pretty tame...but when looked at as individual scenes (which is how this movie should be viewed anyway)...they will at the very least cause a raised eyebrow and a twitch of a knowing smile...

Otherwise.  The movie is not that great and you should probably wait to stream it, but...it's not a steaming pile of crap that the books were.  This movie could've been better if James let the director move the movie at his own pace and direction, but she, like most authors, felt she would know better how it would look on the big screen than the actual director.

So, you get some awful dialogue.  Certain elements move too fast, like how Ana suddenly starts having relationship doubts and causes drama at a family dinner...when the relationship hasn't even started yet.  Then there is the whole lack of understanding of how a proper D&S relationship works and how you probably shouldn't treat a woman's virginity as something to get out of the way so you can involve in her D&S and BDSM a mere couple of days after deflowering her...

The majority of the audience...mostly women who have NO experience with kinky sex of ANY kind...are treated to how NOT to introduce someone into that world...and they won't know that no sane top would do some of the things that James suggests is done in such a relationship.  There were moments when I actually muttered things like "This is when you run away screaming for help!" or "Taser!  Taser!"

And of course...the movie sends the same message as the books drummed out repeatedly;  isn't all this kinky stuff and exciting, but really...you have to be somehow damaged or insecure to actually engage in it.

None of this is normal.  You have to be damaged somehow (in the book and in the movie, every time Grey takes his shirt off you see scars of cigarette burns on his chest), physically and emotionally to be a top.  While you derive *some* pleasure from it, really, you are compelled to do it because you are a control freak.  As a woman who willingly signs a contract...there is something weak about you.  In essence...it's okay to get tied to the bed every now and again...but to make it something more..well, as the horrible quote from both the book and movie goes, you have to admit the following, "I am fifty shades of fucked up."

And for those of you, like me, who love doing these things, knowing you aren't fucked up because simply because you like it, you get insulted at the end when Ana "forces" Grey to do his worst on her to better "understand" all of this and he obliges her and beats her with a braided belt and is stunned when she leaves him at the end...don't worry...there are two more movies after this one...

So.  While there is much to like in terms of individual scenes (and that playroom is pretty fucking awesome) and the music...the story, the dialogue and plot...and the lousy message leave much to be desired for.  Watch it for the scenes, you will get your money's worth...ignore the rest.







Trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQERFnGvi_A

Trailer with Steve Buscemi:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gnGX4FuIK60

Trailer with Legos:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7AvZPTT4kU






Tuesday, February 3, 2015