The real-life adventures of a girl who is willing to try just about anything.

his words

Guest post – VIP

Strip clubs have been on my mind lately. Roland and I haven’t been in a while, so I’ve been craving a trip. I wanna throw around some dollar bills and “make it rain” over some lovely ladies. This morning while we were discussing that we need to do this soon, he reminded me of a piece he wrote for me a while back. An incredibly hot tale he describes as “a little mix-n-match from two real lapdances and some fiction.” With his permission, I share it with you today…

I followed the dancer into the VIP area, eyes wandering over the blond hair spilling in curls down her back, hiding the strings of her red bikini top. My gaze went further down, to her slim waist and the ruffled white “skirt” barely covering her red thong, and finally to the red knee-high go-go boots. She led me to an unoccupied booth isolated near the back containing only a chair and a small table where I set my drink, and she set her purse. This wasn’t my first VIP lap dance, so I removed the keys from my front pocket to keep them from poking either of us and sat down, making myself comfortable.


She straddled my legs and sat down on my lap facing me, making small talk, while she un-tucked my shirt and unbuttoned it to the waist. That was certainly different, but then I usually wore pullover shirts, so I didn’t really think anything of it. When she got to the last button she noticed my belt buckle and made a comment about how it looked like it might prove uncomfortable for her to rub up against it. Before I could comment, she had unbuckled it and was pulling my belt completely free and dropping it to the floor beside the chair.
“You don’t have to stop there!” I joked. She paused and a wistful look came across her face as if she was recalling some memory.
“That makes me think about doing things I shouldn’t,” she teased.
“Oh, now I have to know!”
“I could lose my job,” she said as she smiled and shook her head and began to work, rocking her hips back and forth slowly to the music. I dropped the subject and settled back to enjoy the show. I could already feel my cock stiffening inside my jeans as she rubbed her ass against me.
After a moment she took my hands, originally placed respectfully at my side, and guided them up first to her thighs, and then her hips. “Excellent. Audience participation is always a nice touch,” I thought to myself. She guided my hands up to her small but perky breasts. I caressed them gently through the fabric of her top, then gave them a light squeeze. Then she guided one arm behind her and told me to untie her top. I found the bikini string and slowly pulled and the knot came undone. Her erect, pink nipples came into view as her top fell and was discarded to the side. I gave them both a gentle pinch, and she smiled – pleased with my reaction. It’s always a nice bonus when they let you touch.
She leaned in, pressing herself against my bare chest, and bringing her lips within an inch of mine, teasing me with her closeness. She was good at this. I breathed in her perfume and enjoyed the warmth of her soft breasts rubbing against my skin, my hands drifting over her back and waist while she continued to grind rhythmically against my cock.
She paused and stood up to remove the little ruffle that was covering her ass, turning around and bending over as she slid it to her ankles before stepping out of it. Then she lowered herself onto my lap again, this time with her back to me, giving me a full view of her ass cheeks as she rubbed them against me. My cock, which had previously been angled to the side, was pushed towards the middle of my pants so that I could now feel her ass on either side of it.
She leaned back into me, placing her head next to mine and breathing hotly onto my neck. From here I could see her breasts, her flat belly, and the front of her red thong. She enticingly played with her own nipples before sliding her hands down to the top of her panties. She pulled at them slightly, allowing me to observe that she was clean shaven, before putting the fabric back into place. I allowed my hands to wander to her waist, then to the outside of her thighs, testing the boundaries. I began letting my fingers drift over the tops of her thighs, making my way towards her inner thighs when she abruptly stood up again.
She turned around and faced me, then pulled the top of her thong down until it was barely covering anything at all. She traced a finger over the fabric between her legs. Then, using both hands, she pulled the thong down another couple of inches to give me full view of her pussy. It was only a fraction of a second, and the thong was back in place. I imagined I could see a glimmer of wetness in the dim lights, but it was probably just body glitter. She straddled my lap facing me again, and continued to tease and rub my cock with her crotch while I played with her ass.
She leaned in, putting her breasts in my face. Again, I took the opportunity to test the limits and boldly took a tit into my mouth. She froze and inhaled sharply – she hadn’t expected that. Had I gone too far? But she relaxed almost immediately, and didn’t pull away. I began to suck and flick her nipple with my tongue. Then I switched to the other. Both nipples, already erect, became hard as can be and I swore her breathing had quickened. She threw her head back and leaned backwards. I leaned forward a bit and kissed the top of her belly. She was grinding hard against me now. She leaned in close again. She placed one finger on my lips, then leaned in and kissed it – her finger the only thing between us.
She stood up again and turned around, gyrating her round ass at me. I ran my hands over her hips, then took a cheek in each hand and squeezed. She bent over, reached behind her, and pulled the fabric of her thong to the side briefly, teasing me with another peek at her smooth pussy lips. Back around to face me, and she straddled me again, leaning back and letting my hands alternate between supporting her at the waist and playing with her soft tits while she resumed grinding. A light sheen had begun to form on her skin. It felt like my cock was trying to burst through my pants.
Another position change. Facing away again, but leaned forward completely, bracing herself on my knees, grinding the front of her thong against the front of my pants. I played with her ass, and found my fingers wandering dangerously close to her crotch. There was no objection I could detect. I ran my fingertip down the backside of the thong, then pulled it to the side, exposing her pussy once again. Then, while her back was still turned away, I surreptitiously unfastened the button to my jeans, and returned my hands to wandering over her legs and ass.
Position change again. Grinding hard against me, leaning in close, rubbing her naked torso against my chest, breathing hotly and rapidly on my neck. I could feel my zipper opening from her constant motion. Of course me secretly tugging at the sides of my pants to open my fly further was helping it along. She didn’t seem to notice, or she didn’t seem to mind. I wasn’t really sure, all I knew was I was certainly getting my money’s worth on this lap dance.
A few tugs and grinds later, she was rubbing her bare pussy against my boxer briefs and the cock inside them. There was no mistaking now how turned on she was. I could feel her heat through my briefs now. The tip of my cock was protruding ever so slightly above the waistband. I groped her ass and caressed her back while I began kissing her neck. She bit my earlobe and pushed her hips into me, then leaned back, looking me in the eye while she played with her own tits.
I traced my hand down her chest, caressing her belly and then lightly running the tips of my fingers on the inside of her thighs. She raised herself up just a bit and I slid my hand underneath her. She lowered herself onto my open palm. Her pussy was hot to the touch, and damp with sweat. She braced her hands on my knees and leaned back, ceasing her grinding and angling her hips for better access. I traced a finger over her slit and she closed her eyes. She felt so smooth as I let my fingertips wander over her bare mound. I pushed gently as I traced my finger up and down and her lips parted slightly. She was wet. My finger moved easily to her clit and she bit her lip. Her eyes opened and she looked at me, but said nothing. I rubbed her clit, and she stifled a moan. Luckily the music in the club was loud enough to keep anyone from hearing – I hoped. We were well over the line at this point, and she would be in a lot of trouble if we were caught now.
She stood up suddenly and pulled at the waist of my pants, inching them down and out of her way. Then she straddled me again, this time only my shorts were between us. She moved her hips back and forth in long, slow strokes, rubbing her pussy lips against the bulge of my cock. The material covering my shaft was becoming wet with her juices, and the tip was poking past the elastic, occasionally brushing against her. I pulled my shorts down, freeing my throbbing dick and she continued to grind her snatch against the shaft, breathing heavily. I could barely contain myself, but continued to play with her tits, squeezing them hard. My cock was slick with her juice, and I could see my pre-cum seeping out of the tip when I looked down to watch the action.
Then, without warning, she leaned forward and kissed me full on the mouth. I held her close to me. She slipped her tongue into my mouth, all the while still rubbing her wet pussy against me. She was grunting softly into my mouth with each stroke. I couldn’t take it any more. I lifted her ass and shifted my hips just as she was about to begin another downward stroke. The head of my cock pushed into her easily. Her breath caught in her throat, and she reflexively tried to push away, but I held her tight to me. She muffled a squeal in our kiss as she began to sink down onto me. Her resistance subsided as she took me all the way into her tight little pussy, the head of my dick pressing into her as deep as it could go. She was so hot and wet. I could feel her juice run down my balls.
She kept her mouth pressed into mine the entire time as she began to slide up and down on my rigid cock. Her muffled moans barely escaped as she worked my cock like she hadn’t had one in years. Her breathing became more ragged, and I could feel her heart pound against my chest. I could feel tiny squirts of warm pussy running all over my balls. She felt so amazing, and the risk of getting caught only made it hotter. Her thrusts were getting faster and her kiss more desperate.
Suddenly, she froze and held her breath. Then she threw her head back and bit her lip so hard I thought it was going to bleed. Then I felt it. Her pussy quivered and her body began to shake. Her eyes closed tight as she barely managed to contain a scream of ecstasy. I was sure we were going to be busted, but I didn’t care. Being inside her while she orgasmed was incredible, and I was only seconds from blowing my load. She leaned in again, grabbing the back of my head and crushing her mouth against mine, releasing her stifled scream into me, thrusting her hips into me hard again and again until she finally came up for air.
She leaned back to catch her breath, all the while looking me in the eyes and slowly moving her hips up and down, her body trembling and glistening. I could not contain it any longer. The expert teasing during the dance, the steady escalation, her body quivering against mine. I released into her, flooding her pussy with my cum until I could feel it run out of her onto my slick balls. She felt me cum, and her pussy contracted around the head of my cock, milking every last drop out of me while she leaned back and smiled down at me.
I looked down to watch my cock slide out of her as she began to stand up. My cock and balls were soaked with our cum. My shaft gleamed with slickness in the dim lights. The head of my dick throbbed. Cum was running down her legs and into her boots. The red thong was completely askew, bunched up around the crotch, and soaked. We attempted to put ourselves back together as best we could. Her ruffled white cover-up helped a bit, and she used the bar napkin from my drink to wipe herself off as best she could. I was thankful that the wetness in my shorts wasn’t visible through my dark-colored jeans.
I paid her for the lap dance and did my part to make everything seem as natural as possible on the way out of the VIP room. I was so paranoid that someone had heard us, or could smell us, or that there was a security camera in the VIP that I couldn’t see. I needed to get out of there as fast as possible, especially since I didn’t want to sit around in my wet shorts. I told her that I had to leave, and that maybe I would visit her another night.
“I get off work in 20 minutes” she told me before she disappeared into the ladies room.

His words – Breaking T

As I’ve mentioned a few times recently, the weekend before last, I made my first trip ever to a public dungeon. While I have not yet had a chance to detail the experience in my own words, I give you now the words of my love about the evening in question. Please look for my perspective shortly.



The sights and sounds washed over us as we crossed the threshold of the dungeon. The sharp crack of leather on flesh and cries of ecstatic pain penetrated through the din of the crunchy guitar chords piped in via the soundsystem. Everywhere there were toys being used – of both the inanimate and the human varieties.

In the far corner an older fellow in a kilt and tall boots was flogging a nearly naked woman’s back on the St. Andrew’s Cross. Near the door another woman was laid face down on a table with her legs open while her partner tortured her thighs and nether regions with firm, bare-handed slaps. In the center of the room, the dungeon’s owner was suspending two nude ladies in a lattice-work of white ropes from a metal hook hanging down from the ceiling.

For everyone in our group, this was our first trip to the Woodshed, and it was a lot for us all to take in. The more vanilla and inexperienced among us simply had to find a safe place to stand and soak it up for a bit. Others in our group, however, felt like children stepping into the biggest candy store they had ever seen. My girl, T, was of course among this latter group.

It was a busy Saturday night, so all of the stations were currently in use. This was probably for the best as there was so much to absorb, and this gave everyone time to process everything we were seeing and hearing. Eventually, however, the kilted gentleman unbound his partner from the cross. The scene had ended and he wrapped her lovingly in a blanket and led her away to the couches.

As a group, the seven of us made our way over to the now vacant cross. Nearby was an old-fashioned shoe-shine bench used for bootblacking. I perched there for a better view of the happenings in the room and watched as my girl helped prepare her intended victim for a beating. Once her friend was in place, T turned to me and asked if she could be next on the Cross – with my hand swinging the toys. I agreed, then settled back to alternately watch the scene in front of me and to scan the room for other ongoing scenes.

I was watching a young athletic fellow flog a naked blonde on a nearby pommel horse when I heard T call my name. She had finished with her friend and was now ready to take her place. I stepped down to examine the spread of toys that she had been using. I still had limited experience with inflicting pain on her so we discussed the implements and the nuances of each. She also advised me of the order in which she might prefer to receive them.

While I continued to survey the toys, she removed her blouse and skirt, revealing a black bra and delicate black lace panties that perfectly framed her round cheeks. Black thigh-high stockings completed the look. The bra came off as well before she turned her back to me and cradled her head in her own arms against the hard wood of the Cross.

As a starter I grabbed the smallest flogger, which was appropriately black and blue leather. I stepped back and began striking her about the shoulders for a warm up. The flogger was light and speedy, but didn’t give me a very satisfying feeling when it impacted her bare flesh. I tried different angles, different speeds, and switching my target area to her smooth ass cheeks. I needed something bigger. Heavier.

I picked up the next flogger in line, which had soft purple and black buckskin tails twice as long as the previous one, and gave it a few test swings on my open palm. Then I returned my attention to her backside. More rhythmic slapping of soft leather on softer skin. Her shoulders were becoming slightly rosy, as were the cheeks hanging out of the black lace panties. But it still wasn’t enough.

The next flogger I chose was one that I had used on her just a few days prior – Valentine’s Day to be exact. This is one that I liked best and was most comfortable with. It was heavier and thicker than the other two, made from black leather suede with tails a couple of inches shorter than the last. I continued the beating. After a few minutes, I paused and pulled one of her pigtails back so that I could kiss her on the lips. Then I rubbed her down and continued the flogging. I changed pace and technique. Up to this point I had been using forward and backhand swings. Now I gathered the tails of the flogger in to my free hand instead and snapped it on her ass – much like popping someone with a rolled up towel.

She jumped, and the dungeon faded into the background.

I lost track of time as I continued to make her dance and writhe on the cross. Angry red blotches began to appear on her ass as I continued to pop it with the flogger. I don’t know where I was – I found a place inside my head that I had never visited before. It was scary and dark, but also warm and relaxing.

From the flogger I moved to the leather paddle. It made a gratifying slapping sound each time it impacted her rosy cheeks and the backs of her thighs. Her dance had begun to be more frantic as each impact caused her to reflexively shift away from me, but I held her firmly to the wood.

I gave up the paddle in favor of the riding crop now, precision-stinging tender spots – the angry red blotches on her ass, the inside of the thigh. She raised her foot as I struck the back of her knee. I struck the back of the other knee, and again the foot came up off the floor as a new step was added to her dance. I grabbed her outstretched ankle and popped the bottom of her foot with the crop. She pulled away – almost completely away from the Cross.

I placed my hand on the back of her neck. I leaned in close and uttered a single word just loud enough for her to hear.

“Behave.”

Something between a sigh and a moan escaped her lips as she lowered her head into her arms and visibly melted into the wood of the St. Andrew’s Cross.

The beating continued with the riding crop – much the same as it had before, but this time, her flinching dance had ceased completely. After a few more minutes I sensed that she had enough and I gently caressed her pink shoulders, rubbed the bruised cheeks, and turned her towards me to kiss her gently and hold her.

She gazed up into my eyes for a long moment.

“What’s that look for?” I asked.

“Don’t you know this face?” she asked in return.

“No. Tell me.”

“This is my ‘worshipping you’ face,” she stated.

“Prove it,” I demanded, as I stepped back and pointed to the floor between us.

Slowly, she got down on her knees, then looked up at me expectantly.

“Kiss them,” I commanded, pointing at my shoes.

Without a word or a second of hesitation, the brassiest, most independent woman I’ve ever known, prostrated herself before me.

Even now, reading this for the countless time, it still makes me giggle and glow. And want to curl up at his feet where I belong.

Follow along to my perspective of those events.

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