I Had No Idea

You love me!  You really love me! (with apologies to Sally Field)

To say I am a wee bit overwhelmed by the response to Act IV of The Butterfly Chains is a gross understatement. It’s not that this particular Act (meaning part of a story, not action) has received more Comments that others. Many stories and musings have far more. No, it’s what everyone seems to be reacting to.

My orgasm, specifically my account of it.

Really?

Between here and Twitter the theme appears to be that this is not your everyday low hanging fruit (stop it, not funny…actually it is) but rather something exotic, seldom found and when so rarely with apparent eloquence.

It was extremely difficult for me to write that last sentence. I loathe air of pretentiousness, so to pat myself on the….back, yeah, my back…is not me at all. But I am a realist, and there is no denying that this pushed buttons. Very naughty buttons.

Buttons are often how people turn things on. Like washing machines. Yeah, washing machines. Yeah…

What was I saying?

Anyway, your lack of breath, use of cold water and sudden nicotine cravings did not go unnoticed. If Peeker™ Nation finds this of interest, then so it will be.

Starting this week a new recurring story series will begin. Entitled Inside Out (clever, huh?) it will be an off and on (heh) series focused on one thing and one thing only: my experience with that particular orgasm.

Be it one of Leigh’s eye rolling hand jobs, an oral induced explosion, or just good ol’ fashioned fucking in any multitude of positions and/or orifices, Inside Out will give you what apparently is difficult to find elsewhere – what it’s really like for a guy to orgasm.

What I won’t do for my Peekers™…

– Scot

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A Peek Back 8-25

Someone found the blog by keyword searching “breaking leigh d/s.”

Twice.

I cannot even begin to describe how humbling that was to see. If you follow me on Twitter you know on a regular basis I share some of the phrases people use in search engines that eventually led to their peeking through the keyhole. And I’m fairly certain that, baring some incredibly kinky coincidence, that those two words in conjunction are unique to my story about spanking Leigh to tears.

Typically the search phrases or keywords are obvious. Many times they cause me to scratch my head in a “what the fuck?” Occasionally they shock and sadden me in the cold reality of how fucking sick some people are.

But more often than not they are amusing. Downright humorous, bordering on hysterical. Which I enjoy. I’ve joked about creating a unique page as a The Dom Next Door™ Search Engine Submission Hall Of Fame. It’s probably going to happen, it will likely become one of the most popular pages on the site and its content will, ironically, result in even more funky phrases finding our kinky lil’ corner of the internet.

But they better bring their A game. “Belly button squirm” is a tough act to follow.

If you’re a first time Peeker™ Leigh and I welcome you to peek through the keyhole. We strongly encourage you to view all of the established Pages, which can be viewed by selecting any of the tabs at the top of this page.

The Archives are an inclusive, running version of every post of note on this blog. If you have not read any or all of the stories, random musings, poetry, etc linked from The Archives by all means please grab a seat, perhaps a drink (if its coffee pour us both a mug, please) sit back and enjoy.

With all that searching, its time to find this week’s Peek Back:

Chain Of Rules Act V – Leigh’s chain bound form screamed for nipple abuse. Leigh screamed as well.

Interview With A Submission Vampire Vol.1 No.13 – Peeker™ surrenderedone wanted some advice on how to get to that special place in a spanking scene.

Oktoberfest Thirty Begets Coffee Monday Morning – The Monday morning java musings after the Sunday evening beer fest.

We Interrupt Writing Seek And Go Hyde Act IV – The cliffs – Leigh. Magic Oil™. I mean, c’mon!

Seek And Go Hyde Act IV – Don’t read this unless you like sadomasochistic forced orgasms, and who among us doesn’t?

Hyde Gets Wild – The story right above this got republished in an erotic newspaper. No living with Hyde now!

BDSM On A Budget – The Chains™ – The long hinted at and anticipated post. Here’s how you too can have professional quality chain bondage in your bedroom.

Embers – A very special erotic poem about a very special lady and a very special evening. It’s not always cuffs and floggers.

The Butterfly Chains Act III – How hot is this Act? I had to take a cool shower after writing it. Shit you not.

If Crayola Made BDSM Crayons – Pretty much what it sounds like. Yeah, I’m sick this way and I like it.

Let the belly buttons squirm!

– Scot

We Interrupt Writing Seek And Go Hyde Act IV

…in that just into the title and tagging, Leigh mentioned a hot shower, the need to get really cleaned up, and that The Magic Oil™ was going to make an appearance.

Methinks that sounds like a recipe for one of her eye lid blood vessel bursting I look like a raccoon afterwards hand jobs.

So Act IV will have to wait until tomorrow AM. Sorry!

Actually I’m not fucking sorry at all. Work with me people.

Nite…

– Scot

A Peek Back 8-4

Is whupped an acceptable term?

I was that in spades last night. Even hearts. Work whupped me. How much so? It was a chore to sit down, which I hadn’t done all day. The floor beckoned like a siren to the rocks. Well they were actually pillows from the couch.

What, you’ve never jumped from one couch to another to avoid the lava flow river below?

Anyway, I had planned to write Act X of Breaking Leigh, the one where depending on my word count  (I try to keep posts to just over 1000 words) it was very likely the tears might finally flow. But, alas, my brain was so much overcooked oatmeal that I chose not to write.

I will never just vomit words to create content, be a slave to page views, etc., nor I am interested in accumulating scores of Peekers™ for the sake of scores of Peekers™.  If people wish to peek through the keyhole, they are welcome. If their own social networking efforts appeal to me, I will Follow back.

Coffee….more….coffee. Ahhhhhh…

If you’re a neophyte Peeker™ Leigh and I welcome you to your initial peeks through the keyhole. I strongly encourage you to view all of the established Pages, which can be viewed by selecting any of the tabs at the top of this page.

The Archives are an inclusive, running version of every post of note on this blog. If you have not read any or all of the stories, random musings, poetry, etc linked from The Archives by all means please grab a seat, perhaps some coffee (we’re big on coffee), sit back and enjoy.

So hoping I stay awake long enough to Publish this, here is this week’s Peek Back:

Interview With A Submission Vampire Vol.1 No.10 – Avid Peeker™ Kayla Lords wanted to know if we employed punishment in our D/s relationship. Now she knows the answer and why.

Monday Coffee Kickstart – Random musings on random topics with a barely functioning Dominant in need of a caffeine fix.

We’re Pink Leather Unicorn Awesome! Twice! – The most unique blog award image yet, more Scot  trivia (sigh) and a list of fucking awesome blogs you need to check out.

What Subspace Feels Like – The Fates decided we should hear this song. It shook us, as well as others from all the Comments.

I Inspired A Coffee Nooner – An off the cuff comment to romance author Miya Kressin on Twitter inspired her to write some java smut! You will never drink a latte the same every again, trust me.

Others Agree Subspace Feels Like That – Our .02 on the aforementioned song and subsequent post gets a feature mention in an ePaper!

Chain Of Rules Act IV – This latest act of the Chain Of Rules story focuses on two of Leigh’s most magnificent attributes not called eyes.

Seek And Go Hyde Act III – How hot is this? I needed to change my shirt after writing it. The Comments agree – probably the most scalding Act I’ve written thus far. Whew!

Just Cry – A very personal and special erotic poem for my doll, trying to capture a very personal and special moment.

I think I have the energy to click Publish. Maybe another cup of coffee will ensure you all read this today.

– Scot

Seek And Go Hyde Act III

(To read Seek And Go Hyde Act I or Act II)

It wasn’t so much the calm before the storm as much as before the monsoon.

The rain was going to come hard and heavy, as in my cock was beyond hard and she was going to be fucked heavily with it while she came. Repeatedly. The torrential squirting that are Leigh’s G spot orgasms were all but insured, even before I entered her.

She broke the icy grip that was our combined stare long enough to glance down at the oily monster hovering inches above her helpless spread cunt. There would be no assistance needed to position its bulbous head at the opening to her already glistening slit.

I swear my cock pulsed and twitched at her, like an angry Brahma bull might do before charging.

My hands squeezed her ankles as tight as I could, eliciting a helplessly frantic whimper from Leigh when their fingers pressed deep into her tender flesh. It was a reminder, a silent fair warning to fucking behave…or else.

Hyde wanted to play.

Placing the head of my cock well below the entrance to her cunt I rolled my hips forward. The slick shaft stroked the length of her folds, teasing them, warning them, anointing them for what they were about to receive.

Again and again I used my erection like a rigid tongue on her. It felt fucking amazing how her labia caressed the frenum, making my attempts to tease her not just enjoyable physically but also spiritually. My eyes drank in her distress and growing arousal, my ears in tune with her whimpers and moans

But the inner beast Hyde took in the most. Her fear. And he wanted more. A lot fucking more.

On a lark I started to roll my hips up and down, causing the head of my cock to spank her wide open clit with a staccato thwap thwap thwap.

“Uh..uuh..uuhhh..uuhhhh” she gasped with short, shrill breaths, her legs pulling against my death grip to no avail. Leigh’s torso twisted in spasmodic reflex to the abuse her swelling lil’ button was receiving.

thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap

This was fun. I smiled, which looking back is not in character for me. But then again I really wasn’t the one cock spanking her spread cunt. Hyde was, the evil bastard. And he delighted in her increasing distress.

One last slit length stroke of her and I positioned the thick head at her cunt’s opening. She glanced down at the sight. I know she was thinking “Oh my fucking God there is no way that beast is going to fit inside there!”

“Look at me” I coldly hissed. “I SAID LOOK AT ME SLUT!”

Our eyes locked. Now joined at the soul, it was time to watch her react as we joined at the hip, inch by inch.

I leaned forward and effortlessly slid the head inside her. I’m not sure what felt better – the way her cunt flared open tight or the way her pupils flared open wide. Perhaps it was both, for I cannot recall such an amazing first fuck stroke.

Inch by inch I rolled that slick monster inside her, all the while the sick monster inside me seethed to make her scream in pain and pleasure.

A groan that one would likely imagine hearing from a graveyard at midnight escaped from her. It had a throaty quality to it, deep, husky, thick with mucous and lust. Hyde adored that. So my did cock. It pulsed inside her, eliciting more of the same from her.

After what felt like an eternity my balls pressed firmly up against her, which in turn made her rasp with not so much arousal but legitimate concern about the distinct possibility she was about to be fucking torn apart inside out.

“Ohhhhh fuck baby, that feels amazing” I groaned, pressing as hard as I could without moving, filling her to the limits of her depths. And pinned her to the mattress like that, a sexy butterfly for my personal collection. No motion, no in and out, no friction. Just complete fullness. Hot, wet, silken and vulnerable. The fact her ass cheeks, still raw from the blistering they received just the night before, were pressed hot against me was a bonus.

Leigh exhaled long and slow in an attempt to gather focus, be better able to handle this situation on all accounts. She wiggled her hips ever so slightly, allowing just a fraction more of her depths to be used. I’m sure you all know what that iota of extra space feels like, regardless if you are a man or a woman. It’s the difference between eye rolling and temporary insanity.

I did both.

My eyes rolled back into the recesses of my skull like a B movie demon. My mind….

….snapped. And I growled.

Soft and low, an unmistakable snarl rolled from somewhere inside me. Primal, raw, it had the quality of a predatory cat on the hunt the way it rrrrrrrrolled out of my lungs. I seethed to fuck her blind.

I think this happened a few times, each time growing lower and more guttural in quality. Forgive me for my lack of clarity and recall, for I honestly did not have much blood above my hips for such trivial matters like memory or sanity. Plus the whole issue of someone else being “there” in my stead.

Hyde.

With a pace rivaling melting wax I began to fuck Leigh with long, slow strokes, each one deliberately bottoming out inside her.

“Guuuuhhhhhh” was about as good as she could offer verbally. It was if my cock was obstructing her vocal chords, which is how it felt as each stroke pressed against her cervix. By the way I was kneeling between her wishboned legs each snail pace’s stroke drug the length of my erection across her G spot. Back and forth like January’s molasses, and just as sticky sweet.

Leigh especially responds to the out strokes. Those are what she loves, what turns her cunt into a broken fire hydrant. The way her body rocked and spasmed with each lunge of my cock, how her hands flailed frantically at my hips in a last ditch attempt to save her cunt and her extremely sore ass.

That pissed me off. Really pissed me off. My cunt. My orgasms. Not hers. Fuck her.

My eyes burned with rage. FUCK HER.

Fine. If she wants her hands down there, so be it.

Cold as fuck I looked right through her and, without breaking rhythm, said one thing:

“Grab your ass cheeks….now.”

“UhhhHHHHHH!!!” she whimpered in protest. She gave me those baby deer eyes, pleading, begging for mercy.

She got none. My glare gave her the verdict.

With almost sobbing despair she placed both her hands firmly on each cheek and dug her fingernails in deep. Hyde roared inside me at the scream that escaped her quivering lips.

Now it was time to fuck.

Seek And Go Hyde Act IV

A Peek Back 7-28

It’s true.

Famous actors always lament that the animals steal their best scenes. No ones remembers their performance, only how cute or funny the critter was.

It’s also true for bloggers who share sordid tales of BDSM lust, perversion and all things naughty. Write possibly the hottest Act you’ve ever keystroked in the blog’s short history and what lights up your Twitter TL like a Christmas tree the same day?

A fucking humor piece about our dog JD.

Just kidding. I’m glad JD’s initial (I’m sure you’ll hear from his nose again) post was so well received. As we always say, it does not have to be German opera 24/7 to be real BDSM and D/s.

And speaking of 24/7, did you know that is the reason for one of the following links? Curious? Read on.

For all you new Peekers™, every Saturday AM I share A Peek Back. This feature of TDND™ allows long time Followers as well as you neophyte perverts to review, with a single post,  what has transpired over the past seven days.

Oh, and I typing this Friday night so I can sleep while you read this. Or maybe I’ll be up (heh) early. Either way I’m being selfish with my time, but not at the expense of Peeker™ Nation, which is almost 400 strong now! We should get shirts printed….hhmmm.

If you are a neophyte Peeker™ welcome! I strongly encourage you to view all of the established Pages, which can be viewed by selecting any of the tabs at the top of this page.

The Archives are an inclusive, running version of every post of note on this blog. If you have not read any or all of the stories, random musings, poetry, etc linked from The Archives by all means please grab a seat, perhaps some coffee, sit back and enjoy.

So unless a fucking squirrel runs across my keyboard here are this week’s Peek Back features:

Interview With A Submission Vampire Vol.1, No. 9 – In which we tackle the age old question: plastic or glass anal plugs?

Monday’s Java Taste The Best – The weekly stream of semi-consciousness while in the midst of serious caffienation.

Chain Of Rules Act III – Leigh cuffed, collared and chained torment begins.

Seek And Go Hyde – The newest story. If you are a hand job aficionado you want to read this.

Happy International BDSM Day! – I seriously had no idea there was an official day for WIITWD.

Breaking Leigh Act IX – The longest story on the blog now finds Leigh’s completely bare and very sore ass spanked…hard.

When Words Die – An erotic poem inspired by the evening that inspired Seek And Go Hyde.

Seek And Go Hyde Act II – No bullshit. Possibly the hottest Act I have written yet. Even I needed to cool off after writing it!

The Dog Next Door – Meet JD. He chases squirrels, eats bacon, humorously blogs when I’m not looking and steals my limelight. SQUIRREL!

JD Is Famous! SQUIRREL! – Would you believe that fleabag got reblogged in a humor ePub?

A Rising Tide Floats All Boats – My obligatory post as a BDSM blogger about a certain neutral hued and much maligned book series. Not what you think.

I’m still either asleep or having morning sex! HA!

– Scot

Seek And Go Hyde Act II

(To read Seek And Go Hyde Act I)

There is a reason she calls it The Magic Oil™. It is.

It’s actually a “super concentrated body glide” called pjur. We use the original. I had no fucking idea what that meant until I checked out their website. Who knew it comes (heh) in light, gel, aqua, male, female and even repair (repair?) versions of this magical elixir?

What I do know is that when it comes out, invariably I am going to come like Old Faithful – a loud, hot geyser of semen spewing high and repeatedly into the night like clockwork, hence its mystical nickname.

And the way Leigh was using her hand like a wet silk glove on my almost blindingly thick erection was not helping my efforts to retain control. Honesty ladies, sometimes we literally can’t see straight when it’s like that and you are liking that. When she mixed in the barely whispered excuse of touching with the pace of a tortoise on vacation I about died.

To help you all better visualize the beautiful agony that was Leigh’s expertly oiled hand, allow me to describe what it was like:

I writhed like a frustrated snake, which is not meant as a double entendre analogy but so be it. My squirming was involuntary, as  were the noises escaping from my throat between gasps and sobs of torturous pleasure via exquisitely expert teasing. Moans low and lush, accentuated by the aforementioned attempts to breathe, with some shrill intakes of night air for good measure. It was my turn to be the one who was whimpering “mmmhhmmMMM” between huffs and sighs, my turn to grip the underside of the headboard for dear life.

The headboard is nailed right into the bedroom wall’s studs. On more than one occasion I’ve torn the bottom loose when she does this to completion.

Every now and then an “Oh fuck” or “Shit!” would escape. My toes wrinkled and curled, my legs kicked out against the scruff of the linen sheets against some unforeseen adversary, like Father Time and how long he would allow me to stay like this. Oh yeah, he was not the one milking the granite that my cock had transformed into with the touch of a butterfly’s wing dipped in honey.

Leigh knows damn well how much I enjoy being tortured this way, and I know damn well she delights in doing it. It was so fucking painfully sweet I honestly felt the lifeblood draining out of the corners of my body and pooling around my hips. I got  light headed at the ferocity of not just how fucking thick and long her manual efforts made me but legitimately concerned that the skin may actual rupture before my seminal glands did.

Then she did the same thing I did just minutes earlier and with no warning. Soft stroke, caress the by now bulbously grotesque head, down the shaft, repeat while holding the base firm with her left hand, over and over and…

…then she bent it down towards my feet.

My eyes rolled back into their sockets as my body lurched taut with the most intense sensation of being in the process of blacking out from pleasure.

“Fuccccckkkkk!!” I moaned loudly through the fog of lust enveloping me.

That’s when the hissing started, when the first growl escaped. In hind sight that is when she probably woke up Hyde.

Her chuckling and soft “Oh my…” either really helped or really didn’t poking him while he slumbered, depending on your vantage point. It was if my cock grew an inch longer and thicker with a single deft move of her wrists. A quick release of the vise grip her left hand had on its base to allow a surge of new blood to enter the by now almost comical displays of veins mapping the underside of my cock’s surface, then squeeze! as she stroked the full of its new length with its oily twin.

Fuck!!!

Trapped. Both the blood and me. And nowhere to go.

It wasn’t helping (there I go again on the vantage point) that my right hand was still exploring her soft skin, curves and available openings, particularly one small, tight one. She knew that made the matter at hand (heh) even worse, or better.

See? Even recalling it makes me delirious with confusion! Imagine what it was like to be there! Regardless of Whomever or Whatever you chose to believe in as the reason we are all here, I am convinced that They gave men two unique heads but only enough blood to operate one at a time. And I was Exhibit OMFG right then.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, my eyes the same as a blind man’s. Teeth clenched, spit hissed, snarling sounds, the random “Fuck!”, muscles tightened and started to ache, almost cramping from the involuntary contractions being forced upon them.

It was now or never.

I noticed how she whined and made wincing sounds when my free hand groped her sore ass cheeks. She even pouted out loud that she was being a good girl. And she was.

But I wanted more than the orgasmic hemorrhage I knew her hand would likely produce in a matter of time. I wanted her orgasms, her sounds of distress, to tease her as she had me. To make her the one writhing in sweet pain with the frantic look on her face.

And, looking back now, I think Hyde had a say in what happened next.

I lurched up off the mattress and, in one motion, grabbed Leigh’s left arm and threw her in my grave. Another second or two of jockeying for position and I had her right where I wanted her – on her back beneath my kneeling form, her legs wishboned straight  out and as wide as they would stretch from the death grip my hands had on her ankles…

…and a very slick, oily, angry as fuck monster of an erection pointed at her helplessly wet cunt like a kinky divining rod.

Our eyes met. Mine were narrow, tight, hot. Hers were wide with arousal, confusion…and fear. And with good reason.

The hunted was about to go hunting.

Seek And Go Hyde Act III