Now any of you who read my blog know that I’m generally not the dominant partner in my relationships. I crave to be controlled- but lately I find myself challenged, to open my mind and exert some of my goddess given powers. A few hot chats with xx, and reading some of my other favorite bloggers seem to make me wonder what it would be like, to be in control. To have someone obey me. I admit, the thought runs hot through my blood.
When the lovely Rachel Kramer Bussel asked me to be a part of her Virtual Book Tour, I thought I’d venture into a good hot read and try out She’s On Top.
I thumbed through the book, looking for something to grab my attention and get me started, and I stumbled on to Shades of Red, by Lisabet Sara.
“The stroke falls true. I feel the vibration of the impact in my hand. The sound of leather connecting with his flesh sends a shock to my sex. It’s followed a fraction of a second later by my victim’s moan.
Parallel pink stripes bloom on his tender skin. They seem unbalanced. Tentatively, I swipe the whip across his left cheek. I’m rewarded by a whelp of agony and a new set of rosy marks. A perfect match.
I’m suddenly mainlining power. Everything snaps into focus with that second whip stroke. I see, with total clarity, the target of for my next stroke, and the one after that. The whip feels like an extension of my body. No, that’s not right, it’s an extension of my mind.”
I saw myself, in a red leather corset and thong, thigh high boots. My hair pulled tightly away from my face, slutty red lipstick. Who would be my slut? Most of my partners would not allow such behavior from a slut like me. But perhaps there’s one I’d like to see bend over a chair, and beating him until I made hash marks across his ass and back. Partially for my own enjoyment, but partially because I want to hear him, moaning- enjoying it.
I want to hear that sound he makes when he’s turned on, that inward hiss through his teeth.
I want to see his cock throb, with each strike.
The sweat on his brow.
I want him to beg me for more….
