Monday, 24 December 2007

Merry Christmas

Dearest Reader. Today I will not say anything except wishing you all a very Merry Christmas (regardless if you celebrate it or not). This journey, I am on, has been a strange one but also a lovely one. I know I have readers, people who come back to my blog and read what I write and it means the world to me. I have been that kind of person who really believed my fantasies were the worst and weirdest imaginable and that it had to be something seriously wrong with me. To share and realise that there are others who even enjoy my thoughts and fantasies is such a fantastic gift that I can't describe how great it is. You, my dear Reader means the world to me. Thank you for being there, new reader or old reader, it doesn't matter. You are all more than welcome to read and if you want, share your thoughts.

So, again, dear Reader, a Merry Christmas to you!!

Friday, 21 December 2007

By the Fire

A story, that is what it is, just a story. I use to maintain that I like there to be a little context in a story for me to relate to it. It struck me that the context is only hinted at here, not described. I do hope the feelings make sense, though. And you may imagine the context yourself. Read and have fun! I enjoyed writing this.

That evening he looked at me from across the camp fire with a new light in his eyes. I had seen it before but only as a fleeting glimpse, something passing quickly. Now it was there, staring at me through the flames. It made me feel naked.

I was naked. I had been naked since the day I met him. I was naked and he had looked at me before, looked at my body. Now I felt stripped, bared and exposed in way I had not known before. It made me tremble. It made my legs go weak.

I had been naked since the day he threw to the ground and tied my hands behind my back. I dared not scream. He had made it clear that he would rather cut my throat than let me call the alarm. He threw me to the ground tied my hands behind my back and as he cut my clothes from my body I stared in despair at my home. I had been captured just a stones throw from my father's house and I saw the cottage between the trunks of the trees as I lay on the floor sensing my clothes being cut away.

He kept me naked. I walked naked in front of his horse, my hands tied behind my back, a rope around my neck as a leash. He had me work for him naked. I cooked and made the fire naked while he sat down watching me. He knew my body by now. He had seen me move for many days now.

I cried every day in the beginning. Then the agony abated. Slowly, I learned that this was my lot. I was a captive and I could not change that. I wanted to run but soon I realised I was lost. I didn't know where to run had I been able to flee him. And I was naked. Everyone would see that I was a runaway captive.

He didn't touch me. He smiled at me as he tied the ropes on my body. He told me what to do and he used the whip on me when I was slow. It is strange how quickly I learned that the whip was my ruler and I had only to obey. He didn't have to whip me many times. I am a quick learner. I think he liked that.

He used to sit back by the fire while I waited on him, gave him food and had my meal when he said I could eat. He regarded me and said very little. I was used to being watched, having his eyes on me, on my body. And sometimes I saw that in his eyes which made me blush and know I was naked. That which stared at me across the camp fire that night.

He rose without a word and walked over to me. I was on my knees and looked up at him. He didn't speak but took my arm. He pulled me to my feet and walked over to a small tree a little distance away. He was not brutal but determined and I knew better than to protest or fight him. I followed him to the tree and didn't say anything as he turned my back to the trunk and tied my hands behind me.

It was a warm night, a sweet night and it was not bad being naked. Had it not been for his gaze, the gaze that made me blush, I would have liked being naked.

He returned to the camp fire and sat down. He regarded me while I stood bound by the tree. He didn't speak. I didn't speak. I waited. I saw him look at me, let his eyes linger on me and I felt myself beheld. I felt him looking at me. His eyes was like a touch. I squirmed and looked away.

Then he came to me. He walked up to me and came close. He hadn't touched me before, not properly. He had used his whip and he had brushed against me and I had felt his hands while he was tying me with his ropes but he had never touched me. Now he was standing close to me. He didn't touch me but I felt his presence. I smelled his scent, a scent of the forest, the fire and...the man. I sensed his rough clothes even if he didn't touch me. I felt them as if they scratched my skin and I felt naked.

He stood there for an eternity, close, almost touching me, his clothes close to my nakedness, knowing he was there. I had to look down, his presence too overwhelming. I couldn't think.

Then he did touch me. He touched me for real. He put his hands on my arms and I froze. I held my breath and froze. My heart started beating and I squirmed. He heard me drawing my breath and I knew he smiled. I looked away but I knew he smiled. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to see that gaze.

His hands started moving. His rough and strong hands were soft on my skin. He stroked my arms, slowly and gently. I squirmed. His touch was so gentle that I almost started to cry. I had no say in this but a touch is a touch and his was very sweet.

His hands moved gently but swiftly and now he held my breasts. I held my breath again and I wondered if he could feel my heart beating madly. I wondered if he knew what I felt. I looked up and I saw his gaze. And I knew what he saw. I looked away.

I started to breathe again, my heart beating in my chest. I felt his hands on my breasts, gently, stroking, feeling me. He stopped, my hard nipples in the palms of his hands. I looked away, felt tears in my eyes. His touch too sweet, too lovely to be denied. I must not surrender. To resist him was the only thing I had left, the only thing that was still me, the me that was my father's daughter, my mothers daughter and my brother's sister.

His hands moved down my flanks, touching my soft skin, moving over my hips, then over my belly, touching all that was exposed and soft, touching me. Moving closer to that which was mine, that which was the entrance to me. I had tears in my eyes now. His touch was so soft, so lovely, I had not known the like of it before.

I feared he would touch me there, enter my domain. I feared it. I squirmed and cried and wanted to turn away and flee. I wasn't to be taken like this. I was free. I wasn't to lose what I had, this way.

And yet, this man, this thief, who had stolen me and left my clothes in a tree to tell my people I had been taken, this robber of the forest had the sweetest of touch that I had ever imagined and what he did to my body, the body he had stolen was beyond what I had known possible.

I cried out as he entered me. I cried as his fingers took me. I hated his touch, hated his fingers in me. I could not resist him. The fire he lit was not a fire I had known before and in that moment I lost what I had, I lost who I was. I held my breath and forgot where I was.

Then he kissed me. He put his lips to my lips and kissed me, gently but firmly. He didn't excuse himself, he touched me and he kissed me.

I kissed him back. I could not resist him. I kissed him back. And in that moment I didn't want his fingers to move away. In that moment I wanted him to stay. In that moment I was his and I wanted to be his.

As the wave swept through me I lost sense of where I was and what happened. Perhaps I cried, perhaps I just held my breath. I surrendered and in that moment, I wanted to surrender.

When I looked at the fire, when my body didn't tremble as much and my legs were not as weak, I saw him sit by the fire. He looked at me. He was changed. He was beautiful in a way I had not seen before. I knew I was changed. I knew I was not the same any more.

He looked at me and I saw that gaze again. I saw it in his eyes as he looked at me, looked at my body. I knew then, that I was changed.

Wednesday, 19 December 2007


I am thinking about the references to books I put in my stories at times. And why I do that. I think I want to show off some of my knowledge of literature. And the reason for that is that I am not at all that versed in classic literature. I have read some and love some but I am not a very well read person. Not compared to many others. So the little I know I like to impress with.

So what books and authors do I like and inspire me? When I grew up I read a lot of Science Fiction. I love Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke and Ray Bradbury. Galactic Pot Healer by Philip K. Dick is one of the strangest and most fascinating books I have read.

I was completely hooked on Tolkien for a while and honestly thought that it was unfair that they lived in a world where you knew what was good and what was evil. That kind of thinking applied to the real world leads to all sorts of horrible things. I tried to read other fantasy authors and realised I couldn't stand High Fantasy, those books about some young person who is taken on an adventure to save the world from evil and where there is magic and always, always, a map in the beginning.

The Earthsea Trilogy by Ursula K. LeGuin made me realise that there is good Fantasy that is not Tolkien. And now we have Philip Pullman and his Dark Materials series. Brilliant author, that. I can recommend The Golden Compass, the film.

And when it comes to other kinds of Fantasy I like some of the old authors, like Edgar Rice Burroughs, and especially his Martian Tales, not to mention Robert E. Howard, most known for his Conan books. What I like about Howard's creations, that makes them surpass Tolkien's when it comes to the imagination (not necessarily writing skill), is that he presents a world that is not divided into a good part and an evil part. Other human desires runs through his stories and makes them believable.

I do love stories about the fantastic. The master of horror stories is without doubt (in my humble opinion) Howard Phillips Lovecraft, an American writer of weird fiction. A particular favourite is Arthur Machen, although I have not read very much of him, yet. And Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu. He has written a really great vampire story called Carmilla. Some hints of lesbian love there which doesn't make it any worse.

Ok, are there any classics in the collection of books? I do love Jane Austen. She is one of the wittiest and cleverest writers I have read. I think that the ultimate Romantic story is Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. And Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad is really a brilliant read.

I discovered Francis Scott Fitzgerald not that long ago and I am very impressed by his writing style. I am at the moment reading The Night Watch by Sarah Waters and that is unusual since she is a contemporary writer.

I don't know if this list of authors is impressive or not but it is what I have read and what has inspired me. I know there is so much left to read and I will not have time for all the brilliant books there is.

By the way, the reference in my latest blog post was from Jane Eyre. The last chapter, I think, begins with the words 'Reader, I married him.'

Thursday, 13 December 2007


Back to normal. No debating, no trying to explain my viewpoint. This is a story I wrote sometime ago. I am obsessed with politeness and old time manners and this is an attempt to write in a style that is not that common nowadays. The real buffs will find all sorts of flaws in the text but it was great fun writing it. I am switching here and the narrator is the man. Wonderful thing, writing, that allows us to be whoever we want. There is more sex than usual but there is also more text and to be honest, it is, perhaps, too long for a blog post like this but it is my blog so I do what I want...smiles.

Oh, and there is a reference to a famous book in the text...giggles!!

I was riding on my horse through the woods one sunny spring morning as I came upon a young woman in a glade by a stream. She was clad in a beautiful long red dress that seemed very out of order in the forest.

The morning was mild so it was nothing unusual with the dress being thin and tightly fitting. It showed the woman as being slim and very slender. She had her long blond hair arranged in an exquisite fashion showing a sense of courtly fashion or at least noble upbringing.

As I approached her she became aware of my presence and stood regarding me as I drew nearer. I looked at her and found on her shoulders a young and intriguing face. She was very beautiful. Her face looked even childish in many ways but her beauty was still of a quite serene nature. This combination of elevated beauty and childish youth made her appearance a riddle.

As I came closer to her she draw herself up and faced me boldly.

'My Lord,' she said while curtsying.

'My Lady,' I answered looking down on her from my elevated position.

'May I enquire, who you are and what brings to the depth of these woods?' I continued.

'I am but a simple girl who lost her ways,'

'You mock me,' I answered, 'you are not a simple girl, you are of noble birth or at least of some standing in society.'

'I am a gentleman's daughter,' she said, looking into my eyes before averting her gaze again, 'but I am nobody in my present position.'

'Which is?'

'Up until just now, alone in the forest.'

'You are secretive, that is to be respected.'

'I thank you, My Lord.'

'What brought you here, if I may be so bold to ask?'

'I got lost,' she answered.

The situation was already strange. She wouldn't tell me about herself and I had already broken the rules of conduct in that I was still on horseback. I didn't know why I had not dismounted. Maybe I feared a trap or an ambush. It was something uncanny about this beautiful girl standing in the clearing.

'My Lady,' I continued after a short pause, 'what am I to do with you?'

'My Lord?'

'I cannot leave you alone and I do not know what to do.'

'Do with me as you please, My Lord.'

'Those are bold words spoken thoughtlessly,' I said.

'How come, My Lord?'

'You don't know what pleases me.'

'I trust your integrity as a gentleman.'

'That is daring.'

'I am at your mercy.'

'So you are.'

'I am.'

'If I would do with you as it pleases me?'

'I am confident,' she said with a bold expression on her face.

'That is good,' I answered, 'then strip!'

'My Lord?'

'You are under no obligation to obey me but I ask of you, fair Lady, that you grant me this wish since it, in truth, would please me.'

She blushed.

'I will do no such thing, My Lord, it is not appropriate.'

'Indeed it is not. Still it would please me.'

'I beg forgiveness but it would be quite impossible for me to oblige.'

She kept her composure and I admired her for that. I had broken all rules and she still cared to address me in a proper manner.

'As I said, My Lady, you are under no obligation to obey my commands but may I point to some circumstances that may make you reconsider.'

'My Lord, I can't think of any such circumstances.'

'They are there and I will gladly enlighten you if you would care.'

'My Lord.'

She blushed again and lowered her gaze.

'Your dress is quite exquisite and should I dare to rearrange it in achieving my wish I may ruin it in my lack of knowledge of its finer details and workings.'

'My Lord,' she cried out, 'are you threatening me?'

'I am not sure I would consider it a threat, I am merely pointing out the consequences of me doing as it pleases me with you,'

'Since I am at your mercy?'

'Since you are at my mercy.'

'You are determined?'

'I am.'

'What could deter you from fulfilling your wish?'

'I can't see that there are many things that could.'

'It is not for me to criticise your conduct, My Lord, but it seems not an appropriate thing for a noble man, like yourself to demand of a helpless girl.'

'It is the man who wishes, not the knight.'

'But shouldn't the knight overpower the man?'

'The knight may choose not to.'

'He may be criticised for that.'

'I am sure he could.'

She looked at me and I saw both bewilderment, embarrassment and a great deal of anger in her countenance.

'It may be said that a girl, even of a high standard, should be more accommodating towards a fellow noble man, especially as she has admitted being at his mercy and declaring herself being confident in his desires.'

'Surely, My Lord, you can't find my reluctance anything but proper. It can't be your serious opinion that a girl, even of a lower standard, should find such wishes other than unwelcome and something she should not obey.'

'My Lady, I spoke in jest. I can't accuse you of anything but proper conduct.'

'That pleases me to hear.'

'Still, you are at my mercy.'

'I am.'

'Although I am the only one, here, acting inappropriately it is still to be noted that you are, indeed, at my mercy and you said that I could do with you as it pleased me.'

'Those words were spoken hastily.'

'I know and a true gentleman should have acted as if they were spoken without their true meaning.'

'My Lord, are you not that gentleman?'

'I am a man.'

'So you are,' she said, her voice fading away.

'Forgetting my inappropriate conduct, will you not, My Lady, grant me my wish and strip?'

'Forgive me My Lord, I will have to disobey you in this matter. My modesty forbids me to grant you this wish.'

'I am determined,' I said.

'I am equally determined,' she answered.

'Then I will have to dismount and satisfy my desire myself.'

'My Lord, do you intend to use force?'

'I do and that will, surely, ruin your lovely frock.'

'Wait, My Lord!'

'I do not want to wait.'

'You are intent on having me remove my dress, regardless of my wishes in this matter?'

'That is my intention.'

'Very well, My Lord.'

'My Lady?'

'If it is your determined wish that I shall remove my dress it is not inappropriate that I should oblige in this.'

'You are changing your mind?'

'The circumstances governed by your determined wish give me but a few alternatives.'

'How true.'

'I love this dress and I do not want to see it ruined and since you, My Lord, are intent on having it removed it may be construed as appropriate for me to oblige if only for the reason of keeping my clothing intact, although not in its proper place.'

'Undeniable logic,' I said, 'I admire your reasoning.'

'Don't mock me, My Lord.'

'I apologise, I had no intention of insulting your mind. I spoke in earnest.'

'That may be seen as you, indeed, respect me.'

'Oh, I do, My Lady.'

'Grant me then, please, my wish not to remove my dress!'

'I respect my own desires as well.'

'My Lord, please.'

'You told me to do as it pleased me.'

'Please, allow me to retract my hasty words!'

'I have no desire to do that.'

'My Lord, please.'

'My Lady, strip!'

She looked at me and now her face was contorted with fear and agony. I was moved but I was not prepared to change my mind.

'Very well,' she said with a sigh.

I sat on my horse as the young girl proceeded to loosen her dress. I saw her fingers tremble as she unhinged some hatches and untied some strings. Her lovely red dress became unordered and I could discern more of her form underneath it. She was still dressed but some of the skin at her neck had become visible and I could glimpse her white undergarment.

She looked at me with a distressed expression but found no mercy in my eyes. She slipped her red dress from her shoulders and carefully removed it from her person, taking care in stepping out of it. When she had, finally removed it completely she held it in her hands and looked at me, pleadingly.

'My Lord, since the reason for my obedience was governed by my care for the dress rather than my obligation to be obedient to you I ask what I shall now do with my clothing now that it is removed?'

'Give it to me and I will keep it safe!'

She handed me the dress and I folded it carefully and put it in a bag that was hanging from my saddle. I found the situation both absurd and somewhat amusing.

'My Lord,' she said.

'My Lady, you have not, yet, fulfilled my wishes.'

'Is it, then, the wish of My Lord that I shall remove even my undergarment?'

She was strangely frank in her question.

'It is my wish that you shall remove all your clothings.'

'I would prefer to keep my undergarment on,' she said.

'I understand if you are not so willing to oblige me in this, since your undergarment seems to be of no high value and much easier to replace than the lovely red dress I now have in my care.'

'It is my desire, My Lord, to spare myself the discomfort of having any of my clothings removed from my person and therefore I am intent on being obedient even in this wish should you persist with it.'

'I will,' I answered.

'Very well,' she said.

She didn't sigh this time but seemed more determined and slightly more vexed. Still I could see her fingers tremble as she moved them to her white undergarment and started to unbutton it. She took her time and I was patient although I was eager to see what lay hidden beneath the white fabric of her garment.

She gave me a strange gaze as she hesitated, holding her unbuttoned undergarment in place with her delicate hands. I couldn't say what that gaze contained but it was not hatred and it was not purely anger and resentment.

Then she boldly slipped the garment from her shoulders and down to her hips revealing her upper torso completely to my waiting gaze. I regarded her form as it was revealed and I saw a tremble in her frame as she struggled with a desire to cover her bosom but decided not to do that. She seemed too proud to act as if there was something to be ashamed of. Maybe she would find it more humiliating to try to cover her nudity and then have to reveal it would I demand it.

'You are, truly, a joy to behold, My Lady.'

'My Lord, I blush, although your words are flattering.'

'There is nothing to be ashamed of.'

'Oh, I have to contradict you, My Lord, if I may, a girl's person is not to be beheld by just anyone.'

'Am I anyone, My Lady?'

'I meant no disrespect, My Lord, forgive me if I have offended you. What I intended to say was that the relationship between My Lord and this wretched girl is not of the nature that allows her to reveal her person in this manner.'

'Is it not?'

'Forgive me, My Lord, we are not married.'

'That is true and I appreciate your argument although I am inclined to point out that the distribution of power between us makes you less able to uphold the integrity you speak of.'

'That is true, My Lord, and I will speak no further of the appropriateness of my conduct and command myself entirely into your hands.'

'By free will?'

'I meant no offence, My Lord, but no, it is entirely by force it is done.'

'I will have to contradict you, I have used no force.'

'My Lord, do not mock me, you have explained your intention of using force had I not obeyed you!'

'But still, compliance was your choice, My Lady.'

'That is undoubtedly true, My Lord, I will hold my tongue.'

'There is no need, I think you argue your case very well.'

'Thank you, My Lord, a simple girl is flattered.'

'However enjoyable our conversation is I do not want it to hinder you in your compliance with my wishes.'

'My Lord?'

'I beg you to continue.'

'I am bewildered, continue with what?'

'My Lady, do not pretend to be more ignorant than you are, I know you to be both intelligent and equipped with a sharp tongue. Continue with stripping of course.'

'My Lord, of course.'

She raised her arms that had been held low and took hold of her white undergarment that was hanging around her waist. With a gracious movement she slid it off her hips and stepped out of it.

Now she stood before me in all her glorious splendour, covered in nothing but her shoes. She was holding her white undergarment in her hand.

'My Lord, what do you wish me to do with this?'

'My Lady, dispose of it the way you like, I have no use for it! I implore you not to include putting it back on as an option.'

She took a step and hung her garment on the branch of a tree. I looked at her moving. She was in truth beautiful. Her slim and slender frame was a pleasure to behold and her narrow hips and soft belly was a joy to look upon. Her bosom was small and firm and could not be more proportional to her delicate frame. Her face was every man's desire and I looked into her eyes. She blushed and cast down her gaze and I had to smile. I knew her to be embarrassed by the situation, standing there in the woods, unclothed before my eyes.

'My Lord, your gaze upon me is very bold.'

'Why should it not be? It is a joy to behold your frame.'

'But still, My Lord.'

'Do you mind, My Lady?'

'It is not for me to mind, I am at your mercy.'

'Oh, My Lady, I think your mind is quite independent of your situation. You may be at my mercy but you may still mind.'

'Forgive me, My Lord, but you speak in ignorance.'

'How come? My Lady.'

'How can my situation be independent of my mind? My Lord, I am but one poor girl and my situation and my mind are but parts of that wretched being, one dependant of the other.'

'My Lady, you propose that your mind is affected by the fact that you are at my mercy and that your opinion of my beholding you is dependant on your lack of power?'

'My Lord speaks clearly and expresses my thoughts very well. My opinion of a man beholding me when I am in a position to scorn him for it is quite different from the situation when I am powerless to avoid it.'

'And there are other differences as well.'

'My Lord?'

'The view of you by the man who is powerless should you scorn him differs considerably from the view I have of you, My Lady, at this moment. There would, undoubtedly be something akin to your exquisite red dress there to hamper his view while I have no such obstacles.'

'Undoubtedly so, My Lord.'

'Please, tell me, My Lady, what do affect your thoughts!'

'My Lord, you take much interest in my mind. That is unusual of a man in your position of power but to enlighten you I am fully conscious of my situation. I am helpless and powerless and at your mercy. I have at your suggestion removed my clothing and my mind is haunted by thoughts of what my fate will be in the near future.'

'What is it that you fear, My Lady?'

'My Lord, is that not obvious? You taunt me.'

'Maybe I do, but please, tell me, anyway!'

She looked angry now.

'My Lord, you have asked me to strip naked before you and I have complied with your wishes out of fear of your strength and power and a girl may be forgiven if it appears to her that the noble lord who wished her nudity may also take advantage of the situation.'

'Would the girl mind?'

'It is not for the girl to mind.'

I dismounted and walked up to the lovely girl. She took a step back and beheld me. She held her head up but lowered her gaze. She was at the same time both proud and humble and that made her even more becoming than before.

'My Lord,' she cried out.

I hesitated.

'My Lord,' she said, 'I do not imply that I can fully know your intentions but forgive me if my mind still makes assumptions of a certain kind. I will have to confess that I am a virgin and that my father, surely, will punish me if I were no longer to be that after this encounter. I know that that is of no consequence for you and I can only plead and appeal to your mercy.'

'Ah,' I said, 'your humility is admirable.'

'Thank you, My Lord.'

'I don't know exactly what lies in the word virginity but in a stricter sense I am inclined to grant you your wish. Whether my desires will affect your view of your virtue is something I cannot tell but as you so wisely pointed out, My Lady, that is of no consequence for me. I will make no excuses, only say that I have no wish to insult you more than necessary.'

'My Lord, what...?'

This was the first time she was speechless.

'My Lady, if you please, kneel!'

She looked bewildered. She looked at me and I saw anger, fear, resentment, curiosity flicker through and put their mark on her face.

She knelt. I looked down at her nude frame and found the view pleasing. She was the most beautiful and delicate creature imaginable and now she was kneeling before me.

'My Lady, please grant me my wish and kneel with your knees somewhat separated!'

'My Lord, this is a strange demand.'

'My desires may be childish but I find it delightful to indulge in them at times. My Lady!'

She rearranged her position and spread her knees slightly. She blushed.

'My Lady is too modest, I wish your knees to be put further away from each other.'

'My Lord.'

she moved her knees wider apart.

'My Lady, wider still.'

She blushed, lowered her head and spread her legs more widely open.

She could not speak but she complied with my wishes and now she was kneeling before me with her knees spread wide. Although the gesture was forced the fact that she was almost completely naked made her seem more vulnerable and welcoming than she, most probably, desired to be.

She knelt with her body straight and her natural pride made her push her bosom forward slightly and, although, unintentional that made her seem more eager to please me than she most likely was.

'My Lord,' she broke the silence.

Her address was a simple plea for being granted knowledge about her supposed next action.

I did not answer in words but reached down and released my member who had decided to stand up straight in honour of the loveliness of the young woman kneeling at my feet.

'My Lord,' she said again as she saw my manhood and this time her voice trembled a little.

'My Lady, will you grant me the privilege of having you kiss my simple manhood.'

'My Lord, you know I comply with your every wish.'

'Then, My Lady, please, go ahead!'

She took a deep breath and then she leaned forward and gently and slowly put her lips to my raised member. Her touch was electrifying and the sensation of her soft and wet lips on my person gave me far more pleasure than I had imagined it should.

Her kiss was soft and lovely but very gentle and very short.

'My Lady, your presence gives me more joy than words can express.'

'My Lord, a girl is pleased.'

'You mock me.'

'Please forgive me, My Lord, I may be mocking you. I will hold my tongue.'

'You may put it to other uses.'

'My Lord?'

She looked scandalised.

'My Lady, however lovely your kiss was I have to admit that I, in my selfish indulgence, crave for more. You may not be acquainted with many different ways of kissing and I have no time to instruct you.'

'I do not understand, My Lord.'

'My Lady, I wish you to use your lips not only to kiss me but to embrace me. Your tongue may be used, instead of for talking, for assisting in that embrace.'

She looked up, suddenly, horrified and then she lowered her gaze. I saw a shivering pass through her body and then she leaned forward. She put her lips to my member and the touch was, again, a blessing. Now she opened her mouth wider and let her lips slide along the sides of my manhood for a short distance.

She stayed for a while and then she withdrew.

'My Lady, your conduct is far more satisfying now but I implore you not to refrain from continuing.'

'My Lord.'

She leaned forward and took my sex in her mouth again and this time she really embraced me with her lips and she allowed her tongue to move and do service. I sensed that she was a novice to this kind of action but she seemed to be sincere in her attempt to comply with my wishes. Her movements were very enjoyable and although she acted a bit awkwardly there was something in her conduct that betrayed a sincere wish to please.

'My Lady, do not stop! Your conduct is admirable, at least from my point of view.' My voice was thick. 'My wishes are soon fulfilled, at least for the moment and I implore you not to stop what you are doing until I ask you to.'

I did explode soon after and she was obedient and stayed in place. She seemed to choke on me and her body was trembling. Still she held her lips to my member.

She had no choice but to swallow what I had delivered and her shivers made me understand that she found this revolting. Still she held firm.

As my manhood lost its stature she moved away an inch or two. She opened her mouth and used her tongue to clean it. I had not asked for this but still she did it. I do not think she, really, found any pleasure in it. Her reason for acting this way was prompted, I think, by her wish to please me although this wish was forced upon her.

'My Lady, please sit back!'

She did and released me and I put my exhausted member back where he used to be. I looked upon her. She looked me in the eyes and then she looked down again. I could not interpret her expression.

'Please, My Lady, rise!'

She obliged with a graceful ans smooth movement. I knew she was embarrassed and, no doubt, felt humiliated but she moved with great confidence and great integrity.

'My Lord.'

She addressed me without revealing her true emotions.

'Will your father punish you, now?'

'As My Lord pointed out earlier, my virginity is intact in the very strictest of senses but no one can doubt that I have no virtue left, considering my conduct.'

'Do you deserve punishment, then, My Lady?'

'There is no doubt about that, My Lord. I have chosen to disrobe in front of an unknown noble man just because I was too attached to my dress and I did not protest as he asked me to indulge in carnal pleasures only because I was afraid I would be overpowered. The fear of being overpowered is not so much the fear of pain as the fear of the embarrassment. Still I choose to embarrass myself. Surely I deserve punishment for my lack of virtue.'

'You talk of pleasures?'

'My Lord, forgive me, it was just a manner of speaking.'


'If there was pleasure for me, My Lord, then that would surely be another reason for punishing me.'

'Why is that?'

'There is no virtue in being pleased with humiliation.'

'Was there pleasure?'

'My Lord, I did not say I found pleasure only that if I had, it would be another reason to reproach my conduct.'

'That does not answer my question.'

'How true, My Lord, but forgive me for pointing out that your question seems to spring from your own desire to justify your own conduct.'

'I suppose you speak the truth, My Lady, I will not enquire further.'

'My Lord, as you wish.'

She curtsied. Her movement was fetching although strange. I had never seen an unclothed woman curtsying before.

'My Lady, you speak of just punishment befalling you and, in truth, it is of no concern of mine but I am considering doing you the honour but for completely different reasons.'

'My Lord, you refer to doing me the honour of punishing me?'

'My Lady, the thought has occurred to me.'

'May I enquire upon the reason for doing me this honour?'

'My Lady, I may act upon an urge to satisfy my desires rather than a righteous sense of justice but I have considered punishing you. The reason I will give, if reason is called for, is that it has to be for your mockery of me.'

'My Lord, I am truly, guilty of mockery and I know my punishment will be just and deserved but as I am at your mercy there is no real need for justification. Your desire to punish me is just cause as far as I am concerned.'

'Is this not another kind of mockery? Do you, in earnest, consider yourself deserving of punishment and that my desire to do so is cause enough?'

'Please, My Lord, I have no intention of mocking you more than I already have. I speak out of an honest assessment of my situation. I am at your mercy and whatever you choose to do to me you will do regardless of my opinion.'

'What is your opinion?'

'It is not for a girl in my position to have an opinion.'

'But you say you deserve it.'

'I truly deserve a punishment but this does not, necessarily, mean I welcome it or would not try to avoid it had I the power to do so.'

'Your assessment of your position is true and your words are wise.'

'I am at your mercy.'

I did not answer this but reached out and took her hand. She drew her breath at that. I led her towards a fallen tree that was lying at the side of the clearing. I proceeded to sit down on it and direct the lovely young lady to lie across my lap, in the way girls are punished.

'My Lady, there is no need for words at this moment. I will punish you and for reasons I will not disclose to you.'

'My Lord, I am in no position to question your judgement.'

'Your slipper, please, My Lady.'

Somewhat awkwardly she raised her left foot so that I could remove her slipper from it. Her shoes were indeed suitable for the use I was going to put them to but extremely unsuitable for a walk in the woods.

I began to apply the slipper to her upturned backside, easily at first but then with some increased vigour. She held her breath as the slipper made contact with her unprotected behind. She did not scream but made tiny movements and let slip sounds that told of her discomfort.

I applied the slipper with increased vigour and was soon giving her a sound hiding. I found the sensation quite entertaining and invigorating. Her soft behind turned from ebony white, over pink, to a shade of red. This did not restrain me. I continued spanking her for some time and with great force. I admired her ability to take her punishment without complaining.

After some time of relentless assault on her lovely behind she began to squirm and moan. She was in distress but did not slip one single syllable of pleading or anger.

As I decided that her spanking was done I saw shivers in her small frame that told of her discomfort. She was quietly sobbing but did not say anything.

I took her hand and made her stand. I turned her towards me and regarded her. Her eyes were wet with tears and her eyes were downcast. Her face was red and her body trembled.

'My Lady, I have punished you to my heart's desire.'

'My Lord, you have indeed punished me and I am glad that you are satisfied.'

'I am, at the moment.'

She gave me a bewildered gaze but looked down again.

'My Lord, I have to complement you on your ingenuity. Punishing me with my own slipper is nothing less than impressive.'

'My Lady, you flatter me.'

'I am being honest.'

'The best type of flattering. Stay there, I will be right back!'

I went to my horse and returned carrying two lengths of rope in my hand.

'My Lord, I do not know your intention but the ropes in your hand tells me you have no intention of giving me back my red dress.'

'My Lady, your perception is clear.'

I turned her around and crossed her hands behind her back. She did not oppose me but passively let me bind her. I then bound her feet together.

'My Lord, you embarrass me.'

'How come?'

'Is it not I who should be at your feet?'

I had to laugh at that.

I took her on my shoulder and carried her to my steed and placed her in front of my saddle on her belly. I mounted my horse and left the clearing. I turned round and the last thing I saw was her white undergarment hanging from a tree.

'My Lord.'

'My Lady?'

'It is not for me to decide or advice but I assume you are taking me to some place were you will be able to keep me for whatever reason. There is, really, no need to let your fine horse carry more than necessary. I may use my feet.'

'Grant me this, My Lady, I prefer this manner of transport.'

'Very well, My Lord, it is not for me to question your judgement.'

'How true.'

'My Lord?'

'My Lady.'

'Will not my appearance in this position on your horse be conspicuous should someone lay eyes on us?'

'My Lady, you should not worry too much about that, this is my land and I will do whatever I please on it.'

'My Lord, I had no intention of mocking you but I realise that I was not completely truthful as I just spoke.'

'My Lady?'

'I did not speak out of concern for your honour but of mine. I am no one but I find this situation quite humiliating.'

'So it is intended.'

'I see, My Lord, forgive me for questioning your conduct. I should have known that any humiliation of my person was intended and was to be endured by me. Forgive my boldness!'

I gave her a slap on her upturned buttocks and she let go of a high pitched sound of discomfort. I laughed as we rode on to my castle.

I kept her in my quarters for a while and at first I did not give her back her red dress. I found it more entertaining to have her there in her more natural state. I had already grown fond of her sharp tongue, her good manners and her clever wit, let alone her enticing figure and lovely eyes.

She was an enigma. She complied with everything I told her to do and although she was proud she would never disobey me and she would put all possible efforts into pleasing me. She was obedient and willing to please and she showed no signs of resentment although she never told me she was fond of my treatment.

Soon I was attached to her beyond what I had expected and my heart softened and I decided that I did not want her as a captive any more. Then the strangest of all things in this story happened. Instead of leaving she asked me if she could stay. She had grown fond of me and she truthfully wanted to stay by my side. This I could not believe and I offered her money and recommendations so that she would not stay for any pragmatic reasons. She still wanted to stay.

My heart rejoiced at that. She stayed because she wanted it and because she found something in my castle that appealed to her. She never even implored me to change my manners in her company.

Yes reader, I married her. She is, now, my devoted wife and she seems happier than ever before. Although my manner is bold towards her she has become more confident and dare to speak her mind more openly.

I am the master of the house and she is still naked in my quarters but she is bolder and demands that I sometimes take the whip to her behind to satisfy her desire for justice or otherwise.

She has never told me who she is and why she was in the forest that day and I do not ask her. It is of no concern of mine.

Tuesday, 11 December 2007

Grammar, Some More

I will not try to turn this blog into a discussion forum for things that interests me in general but people tend to talk about grammar and point out the errors they find and such things. I don't really mind too much although I prefer it done privately than in public. Anyway, I tried to write down some of my thoughts about grammar and I felt that I had the right to air them. I am a linguist, after all, so this is a professional opinion...smiles.

What is grammar? Most people think of a set of rules, or even a book with a set of rules that says what is correct and what is not, what is good language and what is bad. This is an absolutely acceptable way of viewing grammar, it is the way of seeing grammar as a tool for learning and teaching. But to accept it as a view of language we must accept that certain conventions are considered language and others not. That language can be confined within a set of rules and even an arbitrary set of rules.

Language is so much more than a set of rules or even what that set of rules allows. Language is a glorious, anarchistic, living, breathing, ever changing something that we live and breathe and think and dream with. And the great thing is that we all have it, we all know it, use it and understand it. And when you study language use among people there is no such thing as bad language, only different kinds of language.

Language can only be bad in relation to some set of conventions and I don't say that to dismiss conventions. Those conventions are important in many aspects of our lives. We live by them. You can write a good or bad business letter, or a good or bad science report. Knowing the conventions and mastering them empowers you. When you break the rules, when you use 'bad language' it is bad according to those conventions. This does not mean that you don't know language.

Language is a far more living thing. We know it and we are the experts, just by talking and being language we are the experts and it is by how we use it, it changes and comes into being. How can we say that certain language is bad when we can't even pinpoint a language? There are dialects, varieties, differences, sociolects and slang. English, for example, is a creole, a mix of Scandinavian, Frisian, French, Latin and some other languages. In certain forms of English you can say things that are not ok in others.

So what is grammar then? When studying language you see the differences and the similarities in language and you need ways of studying them and expressing them. There are recurrent patterns, similarities, things we learn in order to be able to use language. Grammar is a way of describing that. Grammar is a theory about those recurrent patterns, those regularities that enable us to understand each other.

There is a difference between that kind of grammar and the first one. This one is a descriptive grammar as opposed to a prescriptive one. The latter is or should be based on the former and they may even look the same. But there is a fundamental difference in the way we look at them. A descriptive grammar tries to capture that which don't want to be captured – language. A prescriptive grammar teaches us that which we need, to start using a new language or gives us tools to understand the one we already know.

But to think that a grammar, of either kind, can distinguish between good or bad language is really very naïve. Language is far stronger, far more powerful and democratic, far more anarchistic and chaotic to ever be captured by something that fits into a book.

Da speak nice innit?

Thursday, 6 December 2007

The Platform

I do love the overly dramatic at times. Nothing wrong with subtleties but I do love the dramatic, the over the top at times. Today I have returned to an old favourite. I have already blogged about this kind of scene. I can't but be a little carried away by the brutality of it. This is a kind of scene that you on the one hand may find too brutal but on the other can find quite exciting, depending on the mood you are in. At least that is how my mind works.

My body was trembling as I stepped out onto the platform and saw the sea of people around me. I heard the roar as the crowd spotted me. The screamed at me, they yelled at me, they waved and pointed at me. They didn't hate me. They wanted to see me. They were there for me. They had come to see me. They wanted to see me be punished. They didn't hate me but they loved seeing me being punished.

I felt powerless, weak and almost fainting as I saw him, the man. He was standing on the platform, waiting for me. The crowd had come for me but he was the king of this dais. He was the ruler.

He was strong, he was powerful, dressed in black boots, tight fitting trouser, a broad belt and a black mask. He was in disguise while I was not. He was the king and I was his subject. I stared at his naked chest, glistening and gleaming in the sun. I stared at his muscles, at his strength, the power in those muscles. I looked at him and saw that hideous strength that would subdue me, that would punish me. My knees were weak.

The devil of a man smiled as the guards took me to the centre of the platform and stood me in front of the pole, the pole the shamelessly pointed to the sky, the rough and rugged pole, the pole where I would be bound for my punishment.

The guards didn't waste any time. They started pulling at my clothes, ripping the fabric, yanking my dress from my shoulders, stripping me, baring me before the eyes of the hungry crowd. They stared at me and roared and cried out as my dress was torn from my shoulders, slid from my hips, leaving me naked before their eyes.

This was what they had come to see. They screamed as my body was bared before them and I shivered and held my breath as I became naked. I knew they could see me, I knew they beheld my body. Every movement, every breath I took was there for them to see. I was naked.

'Embrace your lover!' was the words I heard from the man. I saw a smile on his face and for a second I was comforted by that smile but soon my heart started pounding again, pounding with fear and anticipation.

My body was trembling as I stretched my arms out. The guards took them, pulled me forward, pressed my body against the dreaded pole, one arm on each side of the pole. My hands were tied, lashed together and then I was hoisted in the air. My arms stretched, my body tensed as I was pressed against the pole, its harsh surface scratching the softness of my breasts and belly, the smooth skin on my thighs and legs. My feet barely touched the ground. I was ready for my punishment.

The devil walked round the platform. I heard the creaking of the boards of the platform as he moved his heavy and powerful body. The crowd greeted him, they cheered him as he walk around the platform. He was the conductor, he was the ruler. He was the entertainer. He was the ruler and I was the ruled.

He held his whip so that I could see it and my heart stopped beating. I saw the strands of the whip, the knots, the leather that would soon touch me. My mind didn't want to understand that this was the poisonous snake that would be taken to my body, that would bite me and lash me. I almost fainted.

I waited. I knew that my punishment was coming. The crowd waited. They fell silent. They wanted this. They wanted to see the lash hit my tender skin, see my body tremble and move under its dance. They wanted to see hard and brutal against soft and vulnerable. That was their desire, that was their wish. I waited and held my breath.

The man waited. He wanted this moment. He wanted me to have this moment, the moment of waiting. The moment of fear, the moment of surrender.

I wasn't prepared for the sound, the hissing sound. And then the loud crack, the brutal and merciless crack of leather against skin. Then there was the pain, the excruciating pain that flowed through my body. The pain that was beyond belief, a pain that took me over, the hideous power of the lash that penetrated my soul and left me helpless.

Fear was meaningless. There was no arguments, no pleading, no thinking that could change what happened. The whip bit my skin and there was nothing else. I was crushed. There was only me and the lashes. I could go nowhere, I could do nothing. I could do nothing but scream and cry. And feel the brutal lashes hit my body. I was being punished.

Then it was over. I had been punished. I heard the crowd again. They were still screaming. My whipping was over. I hung in my bonds, my body limp, sweat covering my body, fire in my skin. I was defeated and helpless.

Then I felt the man, the devil, behind me, close behind me. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

'Girl, you are mine now.'

I knew he was right. He had defeated me and I was his, truly his. I belonged to him now. And I got it in my head that I had wanted this.