Continuing with yesterday's theme:
This is an amusing parody of this World War II poster:
I like the spanko version better. Make love, not war :)
Toppy chiropractors and birthday wishes
9 hours ago
I noticed Steve eying my rear when he thought I wasn't looking. I returned the favor. The man had a set of buns that made my sex-o-meter soar up higher than the Nikkei.
What about tattooed Westerners? I wondered, rocking my buttocks back and forth on the hard wooden bench as if to rub off the fleur-de-lis on my left buttock. I'd taken the plunge on my last trip to Hong Kong and visited a tattoo parlour. I giggled, curious how Steve would react if he saw it... I'd been eying the brown-ribbed cowhide belt Steve wore around his trim waist, and I couldn't stop imagining the kiss of leather on my bare ass. I wasn't into S and M, but too many late nights watching Japanese game shows featuring playful bondage and half-naked men wielding black latex whips had made me curious. If not horny.
A Japanese girl waits for the boy to undress her," Steve said, unbuttoning my blouse and sliding my slim skirt down over my thighs. I stood there, mesmerized...he unhooked my bra, then pulled down my panties. He grinned when he noticed the tattoo on my left cheek. He slapped my butt and I moaned, enjoying the pleasant sting of his palm on my hot flesh. He said, "I like the way it wiggles."
"My butt or my tattoo?"
"I like to take charge, but I love to be submissive, she says. "Being submissive in the bedroom is really fun. You get to be a little lady, to have somebody be macho and in charge of (you). That's sexy to me. I work a lot, and I have to make a lot of executive decisions, so when it comes to being intimate, I like to feel I'm somebody's girl."
What else does she like? "I like to be spanked. Being tied up is fun. I like to keep it spontaneous. Sometimes whips and chains can be overly planned -- you gotta stop, get the whip from the drawer downstairs... I'd rather have him use his hands." She goes on to recount a recent trip to a sex shop in Sydney called The Toolshed, where she left with two full bags of whips, blindfolds and dildos. "The takeaway? "Don't go to a sex store tipsy."
In part, all this talk about pain and domination is about pushing buttons, and the transgressive thrill she gets from being bad. But it's also largely defensive. Because If there's one thing someone knows about Rihanna, it's probably (that she was beaten by her boyfriend.)
And now comes Loud, full of lyrics about the blurry line between sex and violence. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me." "I like it rough." "The pain is my pleasure." And perhaps most tellingly, "Maybe I'm a masochist."
"I do think I'm a bit of a masochist," she says this evening. "It's not something I'm proud of, and it's not something I noticed until recently. I think it's common for people who witness abuse in their household. They can never smell how beautiful a rose is unless they get pricked by a thorn."
Though Rihanna has the kind of Amazon body some women would kill for, she says she has only recently become content with her shape. "Over the holidays, and even during filming, I realized that I actually like my body, even if it's not perfect according to the book. I just feel sexy. For the first time, I don't want to get rid of the curves. I just want to tone it up. My body is comfortable, and it's not unhealthy, so I'm going to rock with it."
Rihanna feels that she now has a much stronger connection with her fans. "I feel like they understand me now, which is something that I had been struggling with my entire career, having the fans really know who I am."
That said, they don't always get it. Consider her recent S&M video, a campy, over-the-top take on her relationship to the press that has been wildly misconstrued. "The song can be taken very literally, but it's actually a very metaphorical song. It's about the love-hate relationship with the media and how sometimes the pain is pleasurable. We feed off it, you know -- or I do. And it was a very personal message that I was trying to get across. I wanted the video to say that but still play off of the theme of S&M. And I mean, wow, people went crazy. They just saw sex. And when I see that video, I don't see that at all. I wanted it to be cheeky. There's no other way to take it."
"Please," she said through gritted jaws, "Please touch me, sir."
"Then why did you come here?" she demanded, crossing to him. Fury made her want to strike him, but Mira didn't dare.
Gerard looked her up and down, caressing her so thoroughly with his gaze it weakened her knees and tightened her nipples further. "To make you complete. Isn't that what the dark fairy said you needed?"
"What did she say you needed?" The words came out broken, edged with glass, on the verge of cruel.
Quick as the sunshine from which her hair had been woven, Gerard grabbed her wrist. He pulled her forward and put her across his lap like a recalcitrant child. His big hand came down across her buttocks, the smack not hard enough to bruise, though Mira cried out at the sting. Heat spread across her flesh and her hips pushed forward...against Gerard's thigh.
"She told me I needed to complete someone." His other hand pressed her tight against him so she couldn't move.
"By beating me?" Mira cried, voice hoarse, even as her hips rocked.
"This is not a beating," said Gerard. "This is an appreciation."
Heat covered her buttocks and spread to meet the fire already burning in her thighs. As Gerard's hand caressed her skin, Mira sagged against him. Her legs parted...she wriggled and strove to get free of his grip...
His breathing had grown harsher, his grip tighter as she struggled. Yet he did nothing but rest his hand upon the heat his spank had left on her skin.
"I am making you appreciate my touch," Gerard said in a low voice. "Feel the heat of my hand. Focus on that... Focus on the sound of our breathing. On the brush of your hair against your face."
...Gerard held her until her struggles ceased. Every line of Mira's body had gone hot, as though he'd drawn a stick from the fire along her skin. She moaned into her fist as his hand shifted, fingertips brushing the underside of her buttocks. He moved them lower...
"Please, Gerard," she whispered. "Please touch me."
When at last he did,...Mira's cry of relief rang around the room... Mira's climax washed over her, no, thundered over her... When the throbbing between her legs eased and she caught her breath, Gerard released her from his lap.
"My lady," said Alain gently and waited until she looked at his face. "What do you need?"
"...I need fulfillment!"
He'd been certain she'd find it with Gerard, and yet the moment she said the words, Alain knew she spoke the truth. A smile tugged at his lips. Now it was his turn to try.
Mira's buttocks still held the heat left behind from Gerard's hand, but she refused to squirm on the hard seat of her chair. The humiliation of what he'd done--without lifting the curse--brought heat to her face equal to that of her bottom. She scowled at the dark man in front of her.
"Bring me a dipper of cold water from the well," she demanded and pointed out the window to the garden. "That's what I want."
...As a beloved only child of doting parents, Mira had never been spanked in her life. No one had ever raised their voice to her. Yet, she mused, her thighs slipping apart enough to dimple the fabric of her gown beneath them, there had been nothing parental about Gerard's treatment of her...
At the sound of Alain's reverent voice, Mira's eyes flew open... She studied him, the pail from the well brimming with water.
"I brought your water."
She didn't know what made her do it, except that all at once she lost all grasp of the difference between memory and reality. Gerard had commanded her but now she would command Alain; all of it seemed to make sense...
She kicked the bucket of water from his hands. It hit the floor with a thump and split into several pieces. The cold, clear water, sweet as honey, splattered Alain's boots and breeches. Frigid droplets hit her bare toes and calves, but her gasp wasn't from their small sting. It came when Alain went at once to his knees, his head bowed.
"My lady, I have displeased you."
...The sight of Alain on his knees sent waves of pleasure through her so strong her head spun...
"Tell me how I might serve you, lady," Alain murmured, "and I shall do my utmost to please you."
Gerard set her to tasks such as polishing her boots and serving him his food, and his hand could be heavy when she didn't serve to his pleasure. The first time he'd tied her hands and feet to the posts at the foot of his bed and strapped her, she'd wept tears of pain and anger even as her sex wept with arousal, and she hadn't sent him from the house. Her body had grown to crave Gerard's discipline, as harsh as it could be, and he brought her to climax over and over with the flat of his hand or the leather strap he wielded with such proficiency. He penetrated her thoroughly as well, when she pleased him, and denied her that ecstasy when she did not.
With Alain, however, Mira played the mistress without a second thought. He was as eager to serve her as she was to submit to Gerard. Alain took whatever abuse she offered him, whether it be her refusal to allow him to achieve orgasm...or the performance of countless meaningless tasks meant only to prove she controlled him. He made love to her with worshipful hands, when she allowed it, and Mira found his touch as satisfying as Gerard's even if it was in a totally different way.
Slamming the door behind her, Brittany ran out into the street. She had her shirt only half tucked into her skirt and her hair tie was falling out as she headed towards the store. It was only a block and 1/2 away and once there she was going to call Caroline and beg her to help her get out of this situation. Will Caroline help me again? After all the times I've left and then returned again and again, are they sick of me? What will I do if they say they can't take me in? I can't go back to Frank, he's killing me inside. Larry and Caroline are my only hope!
As she gets to the store, she walks inside and falls into one of the snack booths and proceeds to get her cell phone out of her purse. She glances briefly out the window and sees a red truck and her heart stops, she panics for a moment and then breathes a sigh of relief when she watches it turn and drive on down the road... whew.. she puts the phone up to hear ear, hearing it ring... ring.... 'oh I hope they haven't gone on vacation'.. ring.. "hello", Brittany's face changes into a relieved smile, an expression she hasn't shown for the past few days... "Caroline..." she can't help it.. she starts to sob... "please help me".