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.


– Scot

Drip Drop

Hard thoughts melt like the candle

wax poetic drip drop falling

by the bedside I knelt at the

altar of your surrender in hushed

silence my thirst with beauty and

the beast inside me kneels in

that neither are able nor

wish that this moment would never

die for you I would I swear

fuck baby

are you aware how erotic a

butterfly with alabaster wings

pinned wide with chains so hard

so wet so open your eyes

again I drown

in their drip drop blue

chrome glistening taut tight

drip drop dew drop down

I fall in love as the

candles drip dropping

before I enter your

dripping cunt

– Scot (trying to capture the absolute beauty that was Leigh’s candlelit spread eagle chain bondage in The Butterfly Chains)

The Butterfly Chains

When they first appear free of their cocoon butterflies are very wet, extremely vulnerable and breathtakingly beautiful.

I am a butterfly collector of sorts. But not just any butterflies. Only very special, erotically beautiful ones pique my interest. It’s a very private collection, known only to two people and, with the writing of this tale, now all of you.

Sadly you will never see any of the exquisite creature I collect. No, that’s not a typo. My collection consists of a singular butterfly, a very rare and exotic one. It only comes out at night, which would make her more a moth I suppose. There is definitely an attraction to the flicker of the candles that light up the bedroom where she flies.

Oh, what’s that? Yes, she. Her. I collect a most amazing female butterfly, one whose moth like tendencies to fly too close to the flames often gets her wings singed.


I should clarify that, while butterfly beautiful, Leigh is not always thought of or viewed as such. Its only when the wings that are her legs are spread almost as wide as the mattress we sleep on with the assistance of some stainless steel chain and a pair of ankle cuffs that I see wings.

Then she is my butterfly, my lunar moth, pinned to the mattress for my enjoyment. And this is the story of how she came to be, like that newborn butterfly, very wet, extremely vulnerable and breathtakingly beautiful.

“Tonight? she asked me quizzically, rolling over to better see what I was doing.

“Yes….tonight. I’ve been thinking about my butterfly collection all day” was my reply as I rifled through The Pillowcase™ for the cuffs.

The Pillowcase™ is just that. An otherwise ordinary, large taupe pillowcase from a bed linen set long since discarded as a result of the corners ripping. No comment on what might have caused that to happen. But now this simple covering is where the Crown Jewels of our toy collection live. It’s where I keep the fleece lined bondage cuffs and matching three-ring collar, a leather ball gag, some nipple clamps, eight or so steel fasteners…

…and The Chains™. Four 1′ foot lengths, two 2′ lengths and a singular 3′ section, all of chromed stainless steel.

Leigh looked at me as I purloined the four matching cuffs from its depths. Most times she likes to put them on, but tonight I wanted to be the one to do that. I consider it an honor to be able to do so, plus it’s just plain fun.

In that she was seated facing me I started with her ankles.

“These,” as I tugged on her pajama bottoms,”will need to come off, please.”

I could tell that, while open to being tied up, she was somewhat resigned due to my not telling her earlier of my plans to add to my collection that evening. But none the less the lacy, knee-length white pajama pants slid over her hips, down her thighs and off her legs.

“You can keep the top on. I like it. It makes you look Victorian” was the answer I gave to her unasked question. And it did. A square neckline, thick shoulder straps, extremely shear in its linen transparency, all adorned with cut work and lace edging. Leigh has that timeless beauty, a look about her that makes women envious. Her features would be considered stunning in any of the last dozen decades. So a Victorianesque bloomer night set worked perfectly with her pinned auburn hair, alabaster skin and warm eyes of the softest blue as far as setting a mood, although the hairless nirvana between her legs was anything but Victorian.

All I was going to do was mix in some era appropriate bondage until she was wet, then eat. Literally.

The Cuffs™ went on her ankles smoothly for the most part. I always try to be gentle when getting that fourth eye aligned with the clasp and buckle. Three is too loose, four is pretty snug but wearable. Same with the wrists. In that she was going to be lying supine she requested to not wear the collar due to the way it squeezes her throat in this position. She is not a fan of continuous breath play to the point where it’s a mild hard limit.

“Lie down in the middle of the bed, with your head as near to the headboard as you can” I said. And with that, plus some pillows under her hips to raise them off the bed, it became time to pin the butterfly.

One steel fastener clicked to each of the mattress handles at the head of the bed, then two more clicked on the outer ring of each ankle cuff. Two more were clicked into place on her wrist cuffs, which in turn were joined by one of the 12″ lengths of chain running under the pillows. Comfy for her, convenient for me in that her arms were now helplessly chained together at her sides.

All that was left to was spread her wings with both of the 2′ lengths of chain.

A quick Dom Tip™ – when chaining a submissive, always run your slack away from them. In other words, secure them from them out. This way you don’t have unused portions of chain hanging free right next to their skin. It looks sloppy, plus it gets in the way and, depending on how much motion activity you have planned,  could become a safety issue.

I clicked an end length of each section to each ankle, making sure the cuffs were aligned properly.

“Spread them, please” I said as emotionlessly as if I was asking her to pass the salt.

The sight and sound of her velvet thighs opening while dragging lengths of steel chain across the bed to the point where they slithered off the carefully folded over comforter, coiling on the hard wood floor in the process, was almost religious. I swear I heard angels either sing or make obscene comments.

Grasping the length attached to her left leg I made it taut.

“Comfortable?” I asked.

Leigh fidgeted a little, adjusted the pillows, readjusted where her head was, then spread her legs just a fraction more.

“I’m good” she replied.

“You’re fucking awesome” I fired back through a Cheshire cat grin. Her smile brightened the candlelit room’s glow.

The key to spread eagle chain bondage is to give the submissive the opportunity to relax into the position while keeping their legs as immobile as possible. You want them secure, tight and incapable of movement. This means no slack in the links. Period. So when I gently (we don’t need a torn hamstring) stretched the chain to where it met the fastener on the mattress handle, I clicked it one link tighter than that distance. That leg was going nowhere.

The last leg (literally) is the one where you really need to be careful you don’t, in your haste to start abusing their helplessness, cause a leg injury like a strained muscle or tendon. The first leg had the luxury of slack in that the other was free to move. Not the second leg. That one pulls and stretches tight the length of both legs and hips.

Gently I pulled the chain. Closer. Closer. Then aligned with the fastener. Just…one……more……..link


With that I had a helpless butterfly’s wings spread oh so fucking wide. So fucking wide. And I smiled at the absolute and total vulnerability of her smooth cunt.

The Butterfly Chains Act II

I Inspired A Coffee Nooner


Did that excite you? Make you extremities tingle, eyes widen, mouth water? Hot, velvety, lush, mysterious and dark, yet can also be blonde and sweet? It’s practically a religion at TDND™ World Headquarters. The ritual of it all is almost a scene in itself.


The thrill of a quickie stolen from the sadistic grasp of reality and time. Telling the real word to fuck off while you get your fuck on. Primal, raw, sweaty, animalistic. Leigh and I will carpe nooner on occasion this way, when I just take her and fuck her raw to quench my greedy perverted thirst.

What I if I said you could have your coffee and nooner too? Better yet, you can have them at the same time?

Peeker™/romance author Miya Kressin and I adore java. We joked about our daily flirtations with the magically elixir the other day on Twitter. I mentioned how jealous Leigh gets when java and I have a “coffee nooner.”


That in turn inspired Miya to get a 2nd cup, put fingers to keyboard and have a coffee nooner of her own via the crafting of a very naughty short featuring a loving husband and father, a selfless wife and mother, two lattes, a dress and some stolen quality time.

Curious? You damn well should be.

Trust me, you’ll never drink a latte the same way ever again if you read “Coffee Nooner.”

And to think I inspired it with an innocent comment to a romance writer over the internet over coffee. Anytime I can be associated with hot coffee and scalding sex it is a compliment beyond mortal words to my caffeinated ears.

Thank you Miya for your gift of words. I thoroughly enjoyed reading that…over a hot cup of coffee.

Now I want a latte. Perhaps Leigh will join me?

– Scot