Too bad blind dates don't come to your door, delivered like something great you sent yourself from Amazon. Online shopping, something I didn't think I would become addicted to, was my retail therapy. Other than having your treasure arrive like a present, the best thing about it is still the window shopping. I do like getting a bargain but the chase, the planning, the research and then the discovery of that one, just right, exceptional item!

I wasn't a fool though. I knew who paid that credit card each month. Me. I could be careful and still buy stuff. The trick was to make sure it really was something I really did need. Most of the time I was successful that way. Books, print books, tended to be my downfall.

A good book is a good companion. Like that blind date but, in this case, he can hold up his end of the conversation. Of course, only my lips were moving. …more

Originally posted to Sex Kitten.net.

“Hello Dolly!” I yelled across the train station. He knew I was looking right at him, but he pretended he didn’t. Poor Dolly and his cute, little penis. We had such fun last night. At least I did.

Dolly, as I like to call him, wandered into my room from a party in another apartment down the hall. My fault for not having the door locked but, I was expecting my roommate home any minute.

Instead, Dolly came in. He didn’t have a coat, or a shirt or pants on. Just underwear. I knew there was a party, it was loud. I even knew Dolly, we had been introduced last year at a social event. He asked for my number but never phoned. So I didn’t look him up. But, now he was here. Pretty much nude and passed out drunk.

I decided to do something about it. I had time, art supplies and a collection of kitchen gadgets. Somewhere in all of that an idea was sure to come along.

First, I stripped him bare. That was a surprise. I’d never seen a micro, tiny penis before. Gorillas and such in nature documentaries don’t count. I thought it was cute. Like a little dolly penis. I played with it awhile. It got a bit longer, and a bit thicker, but not much. I didn’t get him to ejaculate. Likely due to him being passed out drunk. Disappointing.

I drew all over him. Personal tattoos. I left out his hands and face so he could go to work and not have a lot of explaining to do. I took photos of him. I posed him and took more photos. I had a lot of fun playing with my sleeping dolly.

My roommate had called and said she wouldn’t be coming in that night. So Dolly and I had the night to ourselves, well, mostly I had the night to myself with Dolly. I left him nude. He’s actually quite good looking and muscled. I’d never had the time to really explore a man’s body before. I’d only slept with a couple of boys and they weren’t interested in foreplay, not really. So, that night with Dolly, I had foreplay. All the foreplay I wanted with him.

His little penis was fun. Each time I got him hard again it was like watching time lapse photography of budding trees and plants.

In the morning he woke up not feeling so well. But, still hard as a rock, even when he realized all (or most) of what I had done to him. I guess I did take advantage of him. Some could say it was wrong. But, I didn’t use permanent ink and most of it washed off in the shower. I made him breakfast. He didn’t look me in the eye, didn’t really speak and rushed out the door with just a shy backward glance.

“Good bye, Dolly!” I yelled after him as he raced down the stairs.

Maybe this time he will call. I’d like to play with his little dolly penis again. Next time I want to make it squirt and tie a fussy little bow around it, like a tiny dolly dress.

Of course, if he doesn’t phone… I do have all those pictures. I’ve never blackmailed anyone before. It’s kind of a turn on to have Dolly under my thumb, maybe over my knee too.

Resources:

• The Small Penis User Group – Home of the Big Small Penis Party (in March).
• The Small Dick Club Presents: Small Penis Facts
• Tiny Penis Travels – Not active.

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Originally posted to Sex Kitten.net.

He liked to be called Daddy. I was new to BDSM and kind of shy. He called me his mouse. He told me how to dress, what to do and when to do it, his way. I let him. He was happy.

We joined a local BDSM group. First we went to munches. I met other women there and that was great. Daddy would keep track of who I saw and when. He would comment on what I wore and ask me about men I met when I wasn’t with him. He would ask me if any whistled at me and then tell me to wear an even shorter skirt next time I went out.

Later we began going to scene parties where people talked openly about kinks, fetishes and role playing. Daddy liked me to wear bondage gear and show a lot of skin, even bare breasts. I didn’t really like it. But, some of the men were flattering, without being jerks about it… and I did like that.

One day several of the women began talking about having a Ladies Tea Party where any women (submissive, Dominant, or other) could attend, have a nice tea party and chat a bit. They were deciding on which men to invite to serve at the tea party. Only serving men were allowed to attend. I got an invitation to attend – BYO China teacup and saucer.

Daddy was not pleased. He said I could not go. But, I did and he came with me.

Maybe he just didn’t understand the concept of the party. Or he underestimated the women. I don’t want to say he was just a jerk forcing his way, but…

The women did not react the way he expected.

He was knocked down, stripped of his clothes and put into an adult diaper. He was collared with a thick leather strap attached to a chain leash. His wrists and ankles were manacled with a chain running between them. As he began to yell louder they muzzled him. Later, they told me it was an antique dog muzzle. They had brought everything with them, planned ahead, expecting he would force his way into the Ladies only party.

They left him bound, muzzled and stewing in a corner for the whole party. It was a lovely party. I did bring my own teacup and saucer. There were pretty sandwiches, tiny cupcakes and other treats. We talked about almost everything, not all of it about men or sex or BDSM. Though a few of the women did give a talk about women taking the Dom role in BDSM relationships. I liked that. I told Daddy how much I liked that.

He was much quieter when they freed him. He was told to clean up and he did. First he tidied the living room and then the kitchen. He washed the dainty China teacups and saucers for all the women. Last of all he wrapped up all the fancy teacups in tissue paper and gave them back to each woman along with an apology. He was very polite. Such a good boy.

I don’t call him Daddy any more.

Originally posted to Sex Kitten.net.

I know you want to read that Gracie and I made out. Gracie even expects that’s what we should write and pretend that happens. It wouldn’t happen that way, not outside of fantasy. I’ve been through the questioning what I like thing and I like men, men who obey with a smile. Not a sissy smile but a knowing smile. So, no, Gracie and I will not get together and make out like cyber bunnies.

We would talk. We do have some…. interesting conversations online. We talk about men, sex, feminism, online dating, BDSM, fetishes and we talk about regular life and stress and running websites and how are tricks?

Gracie and I don’t agree about everything. She’s been annoyed with me and I’ve been politely Canadian to her.

Do men really think women just talk about men and sex, or is that just wishful thinking?

Some of our best conversations, about sex and related things, have been about fetishes. Gracie, being the actual professional and myself being more of a hobbyist, we don’t have the same perspective but we do find most of the same things funny.

“Gracie, what do you really think about sex with dogs?” I ask. It was a serious question. I’m not a dog lover but I have to admit the fetish interests me as a fantasy.

“You’re not doing it with my dogs.” Gracie says.

“I wasn’t asking. Besides, I’m allergic to animals and I really don’t like dogs. I don’t think the fantasy would work out so well in reality. Dog slobber… ick!”

Gracie doesn’t reply for awhile. Possibly she has gone for a cigarette break. I don’t smoke, I just make coffee. So I type in a “gone for coffee” note and then forget to actually go make the coffee while I check email. Sure enough, Gracie is back before I’ve read much email.

“Dog slobber? That’s really what you would worry about? What about…dog parts?” I can hear her snort of disgust and ridicule from here.

“Well that’s part of the fantasy, isn’t it? Strange, thick cocks and penetration by something less than human. Why do you think these crazy fetishes work best as a fantasy when you’re alone in bed and want a good orgasm so you can fall asleep?”

“I have a man for that.” Gracie does, in fact, have an app.. I mean, man for that.

“Men get in the way of a really good orgasm. I have that blue, or is it purple…? thing for that. The one they paid me with instead of actual money. I bring it out once in awhile. Seems I should use it at least some times. I don’t use it for dog fantasies though.”

“Dragons?”, asks Gracie.

“Only once, so far. I did find a site that sells dragon dicks though. They were too expensive for me but a lot of fun to imagine. They had all kinds of shapes and sizes and colours too. Some of them actually squirted.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t find a way to get them to send you one.”

“Well, I thought that was a bit too extreme. But I did like the science of it.”

(To be continued, maybe).