Sunday, December 29, 2002

2001-06-05 Newsgroup post: Mrs. Thorney says hello

[Note from Thorney: In reply to a recent message of mine in the 'Beginner Questions' thread, in part bragging about how wonderful my wife is, several people wrote things like

> Okay, I am *incredibly* jealous now, you old fart. [And]
>Mrs Thorney is rapidly turning into someone I want to be like when I grow up.

Mrs. Thorney is reveling in the praise, calling me an old fart, and actually enjoying for a change my rather explicit descriptions here of her behavior. So she decided it was time to write something herself.]

From Mrs. Thorney:

I have no interest in S&M, but Thorney tells me that your group is able to discuss sex openly and explicitly. He also says that some of you wish you were more like us. Maybe I can help you by telling you how I came to be the way I am.

When I was first married in 1947, the marriage manuals said that success in mutual orgasms came if the man did not get too excited before the female did. As a result I tried not to do things to excite my husband and monitored my responses. No luck. I was too self conscious. So for 3 years of that marriage and 1 or 2 of the next marriage 3 years after my first husband died, I was unable to come to orgasm.

Then I had a conversation with me. (I find such conversations are very helpful.) The other me said, "So you don't come. So what? Just try to enjoy what you find enjoyable and try to give your husband enjoyment." It worked. In about 2 weeks I was coming on a regular basis. My advice to me had taken my mind off myself and shifted it onto imagining how much my husband would enjoy this or that. This enabled me to do what comes naturally and come. In fact it wasn't long before I was multiply orgasmic. For a while I used to count the orgasms, but I gave that up and just enjoyed. This change did not come about because my second husband changed what he did because he didn't. The change was all in my head. After all the brain is the sexiest organ in our bodies. This is a graphic example of the benefits of unselfish behavior.

Then I found that having an especially good time together during the day, whether it was a conversation or a social event, led to better sex that night. Good times during the day come from common goals and common interests. Thorney and I have those in spades. So my desire to make him happy is partly gratitude to him for his wonderful disposition, his reliability, his many interests, his toleration of my delays now and then, his ability to be logical, and his great love for me. He is also incredibly sexy, not in appearance, but in actions.

I don't see any reason at all for spending time with someone who likes to hurt me. Fortunately I never met such a person, but I would never have tolerated it. Sex is not that hard to get. When I was divorced from my second husband and wanted sex, all I had to do was to use my eyes. Make up, sexy clothes, a lilting walk all advertise to all the world. But looking at a man and simply not lowering my eyes told him I was interested in him. Most responded promptly. Conversation is also a way of appealing to a specific man. I've told this to several women who were sex starved. They all reported that it works.

Mrs. Thorney
2002-09-02 Newsgroup post: Mrs. Thorney's viewpoint.

Subject: Mrs. Thorney's point of view

Well, we're actually enjoying a few days of relative privacy - the first time in over a month that we are home with no grandchildren in residence, no house guests, etc., for more than a day or two in a row. And we are celebrating in full force, with lots of play time and in general my enjoying "my property" in great detail. Mrs. Thorney (approaching 80) has posed for a nice series of (fake) bondage photographs as well as anything else I've asked, and life is delightful.

She's even staging one of her little "rebellions" which is taking an amusing form. She is doing absolutely everything I ask with one exception--when I tell her she is being "absolutely obedient" she denies it hotly instead of replying "Yes, Master" as she is supposed to. She insists that she is doing exactly what she wants, and getting exactly the attention she wants, and that
since she isn't doing anything she doesn't want to do she thinks it is unreasonable to call it "obedience". And if I swat her shapely bottom for this denial she points out that she likes that and is getting just what she wants, nya nya nya. But swatting her bottom is too much fun for me to stop, so I guess I'll have to go on enjoying the rebellion a bit longer.

I've said that I like to be dominant ("Love D/s Lite 24/7") and she denies any interest at all in being submissive, she just takes pride in being the world's greatest expert in keeping me happy. You may also recall that she denies being 'kinky' in any way: by her definition, if we both enjoy it and no-one gets hurt, it isn't kinky.

But recently one of the younger women in our extended family was asking relationship advice, and Mrs. Thorney wrote a long e-mail. The following excerpt (only proper names changed) may be of interest in giving Mrs. Thorney's point of view on our relationship.

---begin quote---

For me the most sexually exciting and appealing things are what a man does. Thorney told me early on, and repeated it often since, that he doesn't want to have to guess what I want. He wants me to tell him. I guess it is a little like two kids on the playground. One kid is playing ball. The other wants to join in, but comes to me and says Fred won't play ball with me. I ask him if he asked Fred if he could play ball. The answer is, "No, but he wouldn't." A lot of adults are like that.

In fact when I had an ulcer, I observed that it was worse when I was angry. How could I avoid being angry? Try to get what I want before getting angry. How should I get what I want? Ask for it. Sounds terribly simplistic doesn't it? But about 85% or more of the time it works.

A good sexual relationship gets better and better. Sure there are a few valleys among the mountaintops, but the mountaintops get higher and more frequent. It's amazing! Thorney and I have been sexually active since 1977. That's 25 years, and it's still getting better and better. An experience not to be missed.

You shouldn't worry about losing a man to another woman. That's never a problem unless the man has never grown up and in many cases even if he is still somewhat immature. Most of us haven't grown up completely in some respect, but that's ok as long as we are realistic. All you have to do is to observe what a man likes, what his priorities are. Then give him what he

Mrs. Thorney
Christmas 2001: The morning the bed fell.

This is not a filk of Thurber, exactly, and definitely not a reopening of the discussion of the rotundity of some members of the cabal, er, I mean, group. Too many of the general US public are that way. As we discussed at some earlier Christmas season, I'm normally mistaken for Santa Claus only by very young children, and then only when wearing my heavy red winter coat. And my muscle tone is actually reasonably appropriate to my body weight -- I can now actually do pushups again, after about 40 years when I could not.

This last ability is entirely due to practice under the careful coaching of Mrs. Thorney. How many women in their 70's would suggest to their husband that "it might be fun if I lie on my back and you see if you can do pushups with Peter in my mouth"?

Anyway, it was the morning after Christmas, and the grandchildren had not yet arrived for the day. We were not, by Mrs. Thorney's standards, snug in our bed: I had flung all the covers off the bed in various directions. She complained:

"Hey, It's still cold. Aren't I at least entitled to be all wrapped up in red ribbon with a big bow, like you did last Christmas?"

"No." I said, "After all, you are my Christmas present. It is the morning after Christmas, and on the morning after Christmas anyone is allowed to have all their Christmas presents completely unwrapped. Right?"

"Yes, Master."

I shifted positions preparatory to the next activity. At this moment, the bed fell. Apparently I'd put my weight on the wrong spot, a side board gave way, and the bed slats, springs, mattress, and occupants all fell to the floor with a resounding crash.

No damage was done to the occupants, but further proceedings were very definitely interrupted. Plans for repairs are already on the drawing board. If anyone knows of a good post-Christmas sale price on four second-hand flying reindeer, I have a wonderful scheme for putting collars and harnesses on them and attaching them firmly to rings at the four corners of the mattress. Mrs. Thorney is opposed to the use of whips, however, so other suggestions for holding them at the proper altitude are invited.

(C) Thorney 2001. You may save one copy for yourself but other reproduction requires permission. (True of the whole blog, but repeated on some of the stories I like most).
2000-12-08 Newsgroup: I love it when she says...

The old saw says that at the holiday season, instead of the almost universal experience of being tense about the relatives who don't show up or don't get along, we are supposed to be being giving and thankful.

So, I hoped the group might enjoy my recalling a few of the phrases my wife uses that I particularly enjoy. I hope others will enjoy them or find them useful or helpful. Obviously, I've picked particular categories of such phrases here, and there are other things I enjoy too. I put these out very much hoping that others will reply with their own lists of things they say to their partner(s) or their partner(s) to them, with the specific thought that I may receive suggestions of phrases my wife would enjoy hearing me say that I haven't thought of (men, even Doms, being very well known to be inept at such things).

I'll confine myself now to things she's actually said, rather than things I wish she'd say, but if others offer in that category I'll try to also. (And I enjoy hearing new things I can teach her to say, too).

These are phrases jumbled together, not in order or from the same chain of conversation.
Could I please have a spanking, Master? I've been so naughty, Master. Do I get a spanking? Spank me faster, please. How loud can you make it without actually hurting? I'm so glad you taught me to like spankings, they are really more like caresses. Could I have some more, please, Master? I'm glad you think my ass is so sexy. It's yours, Master, you can do whatever you want with it.

Don't worry about peter not being stiff Master, getting him stiff is my job. I know just how to lick and kiss and squeeze. I love looking at peter when he's little and soft like that. I almost never get to see him that way. See I just kiss him and he's getting bigger already. I love watching your peter get big and hard, Lover. Your peter is just exactly the right size for me. I love when it goes all the way in and pushes all the right buttons.

Would you pick out a pair of panties for me, Master? My panties are all wet, Master, could I please change them? [On telephone] I need to {put on, change} panties, Master, and I know I'm not supposed to do that without supervision. Can you come home to supervise, or will you give me a spanking later? You made me come and come and come this morning and I'm so wet.

Do you have time for me to kiss peter before you go? I bet with me [laying or sitting] here I'm at just the right height to kiss peter. Would you bring him over here for me to kiss? I love how stiff peter gets when I kneel down naked to kiss him. [in bed] Would you turn around and put peter between my breasts while I lick your balls? Boy, peter really gets stiff when I lick right here just behind your balls.

When you touch me right there [base of spine] I just melt. Would you come lie on top of me, Master? I need peter inside so badly. Please put him in. Please fuck me, Master. Please fuck me hard, Master. Put him waaaay in. Can you push harder? I love it when you fuck me really hard,

It just gets better and better. I love being yours, Master. I love being your property. I'm yours, you can do anything with me. I'm so glad I guv myself to you. Giving me to you was the best thing I ever did.

I love the way you play with my nipples. I think there's a direct nerve to my vagina, it gets all hot and wet when you do that. When you get both nipples in your mouth at once, I want more and more but I need peter inside so badly I can't wait.

Would you like to come between my breasts? Would you like me on my hands and knees for awhile? Am I waving my bottom right? Can you see how I'm squeezing my muscles? I love squeezing like that when you are inside me. Please fuck my ass, Master. [Note: I like hearing this, but she doesn't like my cock in her ass, so we've agreed that I always tell her she's been too naughty and can't have it that way].

I'm melted, Lover. I'm glad you like melted girl. I'm all yours, Master. I'm completely out of control. When you do that to me, I'm the Wild Woman from Borneo. I'm completely yours, I'm in your control.

Is this a good pose, Lover? How long shall I stay this way, Master? [kowtow or Gorean position, while exercising] I love you touching me there when I'm like this. Touch me some more, please, there, Master. Right here. Oh yes.

Wow, did you turn me on this morning. I was so hot and wet we left a puddle on the bed. I've been in a rosy glow all day. I don't know where you got that control switch, but were you ever in control.

Acknowledgements: This post was inspired by a recent discussion at my support group for the visually impaired, and by a recent post in the 'Negotiating humiliation' thread in which someone said <>
2002-12-20 Newsgroup post: How do we get to do the things we do?

A new poster in the newsgroup asked how people had developed their skills or practices. This is edited from my reply:

Mrs. Thorney and I have a very different relationship from many in this group. As I've said, she doesn't think of herself as kinked or 'sub', just as keeping me happy. We've tinkered a lot, and some things that others might regard as pretty extreme are very common for us, other things we do are so mild as to make it unclear that it is D/S. We've developed things over time.

A lot of our stuff is regular. predictable ritual that doesn't require words on a daily basis. E.g. there is a night light in the bedroom, floor level (I have poor eyesight, and like looking at her.) She is expected to kneel down naked to turn it on at night (and off in the morning, unless I'm too sated to notice, which is frequent.) I may or may not go over to pat her bottom, etc., but she knows I'm watching. I prefer having her naked as she makes the bed, too, but don't always insist on it. Of course, my touching her frequently and intimately is basic.

How did we get started at some of these things? Hard to recall. Sometimes, in a sense, I led by example. I think a couple of times when her feet were tired, I rubbed them. Then once when she offered to rub mine, I said, "how about kissing them instead?' From there we went to her kneeling for it, then to kneeling naked -- usually with encouragement rather than command. ("Boy, I bet it would be sexy if you'd kneel down naked to do that." "Wow, are you absolutely delicious in that pose. I'm going to ask for that more often.") [She says: no, she thought of it, after seeing the bride kiss the groom's feet in a Hindu wedding. Her memory is surely right.]

Her: "What would you like for supper?" Me: "A bottomless waitress."

A couple of years ago, someone in the group fantasized about bathroom rituals (needing permission to pee). We talked about that off and on. She said, at her age, bathroom breaks are free. But then she allowed as how it had always seemed unfair that discussions were cut off for bathroom breaks, that with the kids gone it seemed silly to have to close the bathroom door,... Somehow we got from there to the idea that I'd follow her to the john and she' lick my cock while she peed. We did that 'as a rule' for a full week to develop the habit, but now treat it as optional (but frequent) when the mood strikes, anywhere from three times a day to occasionally skipping a whole day.

A lot of what we do obviously has different mental sets for the two of us, and that is fine for us. When we shower together, I'm having my slave girl submissively wash my genitals; she on the other hand is being possessive and playing with her toys. No harm done, we both enjoy.

More examples relavant to other points in the newsgroup dialogue. We do more but than I describe here but I want to show the principles. One possibility is to include some things you want to do anyway (vanilla things), but invest them with D/S language and ritual.

Our general principle has been to experiment freely, keep what we find works for us, toss what doesn't, talk about it a lot. As I've said before, we are very equal in most ways, the idea is to satisfy both of us. She gets attention and affection, I get lots of sex and sex play, I get my kinks to play with in ways that don't cross her boundaries, which have (slowly) proved to be much more flexible than either of us expected.

Our system depends a lot on Mrs. Thorney being explicitly told to "top from the bottom." She can always get attention by saying "Please spank my bottom, Master.", but more generally, she is expected to tell me what is working, what isn't, to make suggestions of things that would turn her on. She does do this to get her own way, sometimes. Once she invoked John Norman's theory that "the slave girl can say anything, if she is naked and on her knees" to get me to list to the entire list of possible wedding presents she was considering for a niece...

She wasn't into bondage at all - and was horrified that this group had it in the name, but she knew I liked bondage photos. After years of ducking this issue, we made progress when a sore back meant she needed to exercise. "You know, I'd be more interested in exercising with you if we did it with fewer clothes on." "Wow, I bet that pose would be sexy without the clothes." "Can you stretch your arms into this position?" (holding them) "You would be absolutely irresistible in that position if I draped this red exercise tape over you like so." We still don't do 'bondage', but we do wonderful bondage photographs.

A correspondent pointed out that tone of voice is a wonderful trigger, even with a simple word like "mine". I'll grab or touch part of her: "Mine". We both use it. Ordering about? Well, certainly "Cum'mere, You". After a hug and kiss, I can judge pretty reliably if "I expect you to report to the bed with no clothes on in three minutes" would be well received.

Talking explicitly? Her talk was quite vanilla for years. At the suggestion of someone in this group, I tried stopping just before she climaxed a few times and saying "Say, 'Please fuck me hard, Master'". She was hot enough to comply (with reluctance at first) and we went on from there to develop vocabulary and verbal games.

Modes of address? She is much more often "darling" or "lover" than "toy", but the latter is common "in scene". She describes her behavior in bed as "The wild woman from Borneo". When she decides to use "Please Master" and "Yes Master" is up to her, but if I haven't had any in a couple of hours I do remind her that I'd like more.

In the morning I may pick out panties for her, or may let her go without until she asks -- "May I please have some panties, Master?" if she is in that sort of mood, but I may let her get away with "would you please pick out some panties for me?" Of course I may well reply with (or just initiate at some other time) "Would this be a convenient time for for to kiss my feet?" It virtually always is.

Mrs. Thorney wants absolutely -no- abuse or humiliation. Of course, she says, at her age, being told that she is a "hot wet fuck" is praise.

Saturday, December 28, 2002

Two Views, A Story.

This is an odd literary exercise. Nothing happens in the time frame (teasing the night before to shower afterward) that you can't find in the advice columns in -Cosmopolitan- or -Glamour- or similar magazines. But what goes on in the two characters' heads is entirely different.

Two Views (M/S, M/f, F/m), by Thorney

Copyright 2002 by Thorney. All rights reserved. This is a work of the imagination. You may make a single copy for your own enjoyment. Requests to repost or to post on a website should be made to me at thorney1y @ or thorney1y @


There have been some very nice stories posted recently. And there have been some good discussions lately of 'who trains whom' and 'who pleases whom' in a D/s relationship. I thought it would be an interesting challenge to apply two different mindsets in the same story.

This should probably be printed in parallel columns. Consider flipping a coin to decide which half to read first.


She awoke slowly. Her naked slave was beside her, touching her. The effort in training him, in teaching him to please her so thoroughly, had been well worth it. She felt him cuddled behind her, keeping her back warm the way she liked. She could tell that the slave's cock was stiff. She enjoyed the total control she had over that cock, teasing him, requiring an erection whenever she wanted to toy with him.

She would make him control it for hours, sometimes, teasing him, never allowing release until she was ready to enjoy it. She squirmed, rubbing against that stiffness, to awaken him, and he slowly came alive, worshiping her bottom with his hands, caressing her just as she liked, teasing her nipples awake.

It had taken a lot of training, but now he knew exactly what pleased her, knew her signals. It was like riding a well-trained horse: the smallest motion on her part produced exactly the response she wanted, so quickly and smoothly that the command might be completely invisible to an observer. Having him trained and under her complete control was even more enjoyable than controlling a powerful horse, because she could lead him around any way she wanted, toy with his body, demand any service she could imagine.

She hardly needed to even threaten punishment any more; her complete control of his orgasms, the fact that he knew he must obey completely or suffer any torment she could dream up, guaranteed her control. How she enjoyed teasing him, keeping his cock erect for hours, keeping him attentive to her every whim.

She rolled over, looking at the face of her slave, then at the body of her sex toy. "You are mine", he said, with a sense of wonder. Yes, she was his Mistress, and she knew he loved having her for a Mistress as much as she loved having him for a slave. But she needed to rub it in. "Yes, and I want a really long fuck this morning," she said, pressing her mouth to his. It was important to remind him that she set the pace, he performed at her whim, that she had the right to make him last as long as she wanted and that he was permitted his own pleasure only when - and only if - she ordered it.

His arms went around her, squeezing her just the way she liked, just the places she liked. Men were dumb that way, she thought to herself. So many of them never completely surrendered, never realized that they had to learn to do it exactly the way that gave their Mistress the most pleasure. This slave, once he had completely surrendered, had learned his lessons well. That was one reason she allowed him to spend the night in his owner's bed. She had teased him about it the night before, though, toying with his cock and balls, giving him a hard erection and then going to sleep, leaving him hungry and uncomfortable and very unsatisfied beside her.

Now she thumped him slightly with her midsection. He knew that command. His finger obediently slid to her pussy, teasing gently, just the way she liked. She knew his cock was bursting, but she wouldn't let him put it in her, not yet, not until he worshiped her in every way she desired. How nice to have a trained slave, one she could do anything she wanted with, satisfy her every desire, at her own pace. A slight nudge and his mouth left hers, to worship at her breasts. He licked just the way she liked, a bit of suction. She could signal exactly how she liked it with a bit of pressure on his finger or a nudge.

Just the way she liked it, like masturbating only better, the slave boy's body as her sex toy, his obeying her every whim, knowing he had to obey absolutely if he was to have any hope of her allowing him release. A gentle tap and he was licking both breasts at once, holding both nipples in his mouth and using his tongue on both. She'd thought of having two slaves to work on her nipples, but she'd enjoyed training him, making him learn the contortions to hold his mouth just the way she wanted.

She shoved his head with one hand. He understood the command and slid his head down to worship between her legs. His tongue was on her clit, he was drinking her pussy juices. She shoved him into her pussy hard, tickling herself with his nose, getting his tongue just where she liked it. Could he breathe down there? As long as he was obedient, she didn't care. He was going to lick her exactly as she wanted, for as long as she liked. She could clamp his head hard, keep the slave exactly in his place.

Somehow during one of her orgasms she'd tugged his body to where she could reach his cock, that cock that she owned absolutely, her plaything. She could use it again to tease him, gloating in her control as she put pressure with her tongue on the sensitive spots. She felt him strain as she got to that tender spot behind the scrotum, squeezing the balls, now pressing the whole length of his cock, knowing that he dare not come without permission and she wasn't going to give it, not now, not until she had enjoyed his face pushed even harder into his Mistress' cunt, giving her more orgasms, she had her slave just where she wanted him and she was going to use his face and tease his prick as long as she wanted to. She was bucking again, filling the slave boy's mouth with her juices.

At last she shoved him away from her mouth "Turn around," she said, "I want you on top of me". He obeyed, silently and quickly. She could feel the heat in his stiff prick, she knew how much he needed release. He wouldn't get it yet, not until she decided.

He wasn't allowed to put his cock in until she said so, each step was under her control. She loved torturing him, not letting him know how long each stage would go on, making him pleasure her exactly as she liked until she made the decision whether to move on, whether to let him come or make him suffer.

He lay on top of her as she had trained him, his cock outside her, his balls pressed against her pussy opening. He stroked up and down, pleasuring her clit with his balls. Her hands on his ass controlled the pace and angle. He showered her face with kisses as she controlled him, shoving him a little this way or that to get just the sensation he wanted.

"Put it in", she said. He slid his cock into her slowly, full length, just the way she wanted it. She just held onto it as he lay quietly, then the slave boy started stroking slowly, the way she had trained him, restraining himself as he had been trained. She squirmed, using his cock for herself, squeezing it.

One of her hands went to his balls, teasing them, glorying in the control she had, how easy it was to give him pleasure or pain at her whim, how vulnerable the poor boy was, how freely she could use him for her pleasure. She squeezed his buttock with one hand, held his balls with the other, kept him still as she thrust her pelvis up and down, enjoying using his cock as her private toy.

She'd enjoyed putting him through a program of exercises, during his training, supervising him as he twisted and turned under her complete control. She knew what muscles her slave had, and now she was going to enjoy them.

"Harder", she said quietly. "Faster. Now. Do me hard." He was her toy; she could have exactly what she wanted and exactly when she wanted it. And she got it, as he thrust strongly into her, at just the angle she liked. He didn't have a particularly large cock, she sometimes teased him, but she got every bit he was capable of, her slave was straining to get it in as far as he could, trying to hit her buttons just the way she wanted them hit.

She enjoyed his hands on her bottom, the squeeze as he pushed into her, but she liked her nipples done too. And the rules were that she got exactly what she wanted, every time. Or else.

She tapped his shoulder gently and he got the message. His hands released her bottom and went to her breasts, worshiping them. She enjoyed an even stronger orgasm as he got just the right spot near her nipples, the nerve endings that seemed to run right down to her pussy, mingling to give her pure pleasure.

It seemed so unfair, forcing the slave to twist into such contortions just to add to her pleasure, but that was the point of owning a slave. She didn't have to be fair, she got exactly what she wanted. She gloried in her absolute control as she moved one of his hands slightly and then pulled him hard into her again, watching him suffer as he still had to hold back his own release, hoping she would allow it this time, begging with his eyes.

But she still had one more way to celebrate her control of him before she let him cum. He had to acknowledge her ownership of his ass.

It had been hard the first time she made him submit to having his ass fucked. Whatever his ideas of submission, that had been hard for him. She'd had to work him over, humiliate him thoroughly before that first time he had raised his ass and told her it belonged to her. Now, of course, her complete sex slave, he let her do whatever she wanted.

She kept a dildo handy, but she was enjoying herself too much to reach out for it. She'd do it with her finger. She watched the strain on his face as he watched her lick her finger, his fear and sense of being property, as he realized what she was about to do to him, his joy as he realized she was going to let him cum inside her this time. His thrusts increased in response as her hand went around him. As she thrust the finger into his anus he lost all control, throwing her also into a final paroxysm of ecstacy as the long-delayed load pumped out of him and bathed her insides in hot wetness.

She held him for a bit, but he had work to do. She was going to require him to bathe her, enjoying her slave boy's careful attentions to her body as he gently washed her, and as she toyed with his now thoroughly deflated penis and balls. She loved it when they looked like that, almost like a little boy's except for the hair. Maybe some day she'd shave that off him and see how he looked without it. How he'd blush and cower if she suggested it!

What would she do later today, she wondered? She knew that he was less quick to obey when he was this satisfied. Maybe she'd make him vacuum the place while wearing a bright red pair of frilly see-through panties. She couldn't imagine why men liked that sort of thing, but he was one of the ones that did and she knew it would get him hot and bothered and very obedient again, quickly, with minimal effort on her part. Once you learned a few things about them, men were so easy to lead around, almost literally, by the balls...


He awoke and reached out, encountering her bare flesh. "Mine", he thought happily. "To do what I want with." As his hand cupped her naked ass, he was glad he'd kept the slave girl in his bed last night, to sleep naked beside him. During the night he'd enjoyed touching her as he pleased, squeezing and slapping her bottom, pinching her nipples, using a finger to test the hot dampness of her cunt. He'd woken up cupped behind her, his stiff cock stroking between her bottom cheeks. A gentle pull on her shoulder and she rolled over, her mouth open for him, eyes downcast as they should be, focused briefly on the powerful cock that she was going to be required to please. Then her legs were spreading and her midsection arching toward him as she sought to push and rub her pussy against him.

Her training was coming along so well, he thought to himself. She was well along at learning to hold herself constantly available, her lips always partly open to admit his tongue or cock, her pussy thrusting out or her bottom rolling slightly to show that she was constantly thinking of his cock and ways to please him. It had seemed only fair to reward her with a night in his bed, naked, before he fucked her thoroughly and completely this morning.

He had teased her last night, having her parade naked around the room and letting her worship his cock and balls with her mouth only briefly before he went to sleep. He'd let her spend the night thinking of how he would use her body, in the morning, for his pleasure.

Now it was morning, and his leg went between hers, his hands squeezing her bottom and pushing her hot damp pussy even tighter against him, as he thought about how he would make his slave serve him with her body.

"You are mine," he said, possessively. "Yes", she said, "and I want a really long fuck this morning." He crushed her mouth with his before she could add the "Please, Master" that she had rehearsed for so many days. He had loved forcing the rehearsals on her. "Please fuck me, Master." "Please fuck my cunt." "My cunt belongs to you, Master. Please fuck me hard." She had been embarrassed. She had blushed beautifully at saying those words, at being required to lift her pelvis from the bed and wave her cunt at him as she pleaded to be used as the slave that she was. Now it was second nature, and he was after all the Master, he was free to interrupt her speech and plunder her mouth roughly with his, his hands going around to squeeze her ass.

He was going to tease her this morning. His hand crept to her pubic mound and a finger slid inside. It was hot and wet and juicy, the way he liked it. He felt the slave squirm, pushing herself on the finger harder, twisting around it. That was the way he had trained her, to be hot and hungry and make her need clear. Her need to be fucked, her desire for a hot hard cock to fill her.

His mouth slid down to her left nipple, sucking hard, teasing the tit with his tongue. "Yessss...", she murmured. He moved a hand to her mouth and she licked and sucked in a finger. He enjoyed hearing her plead but it was important to maintain control. Anything put near her mouth was to be kissed and licked, be it his cock or mouth or butt or a hand that was about to spank her. And it was nice to be in such complete control of her actions, her need, her urgency. He could feel it on the finger she was sucking, the tighter sucking when he pushed a bit harder on her twat or squeezed her tender nipple harder. He could let her speak, let her plead for cock, later, right now he liked using her mouth the way he was, and she was, after all, only a slave. He could do exactly as he liked.

Removing his hand from her cunt he tugged her tits together and got both in his mouth at once. He loved stretching them, sucking both nipples, running his tongue around them. It made her squirm more hotly, sucking harder on the finger between her lips, waving her pussy higher as she begged for attention. Her hand came and stroked his head. He adored all the ways she begged him to fuck her mercilessly, with her words and with her body.

She had thought she was uninhibited when she came to him, but she had been reluctant to use the words 'fuck' or 'cunt' or even 'cock'. Now she was required to play close attention to the state of his cock, reach to fondle it whenever he was in reach. To say how much she wanted her cunt fucked by his cock. If she was seated and he was standing, her mouth was to be open to lick his cock. In all ways, all the time, she was to express the submission of the slave girl to her Master's cock.

He'd left her cunt unattended too long. She was humping up and down with her pussy, uninhibitedly pleading. He released her tits from his mouth and slid down her belly. He loved the taste of her when she was hot and juicy, loved feeling her press up as he teased her pussy with his hot breath. He could feel the muscles spasm in her legs as she came, repeatedly.

He shifted his body and her mouth was near his cock. She kissed and licked it, then started caressing the underside of his cock with her nose as she licked his balls. He had loved training her to do that. He'd shove his cock in the slave's mouth many times a day, but he especially liked having her lick his balls just before he fucked her. That's the way a slut should ask for it, he felt, pleading with her tongue for a really hot fuck.

Her tongue went behind his balls, the sensitive spot just below his anus. He loved using her tongue any way he wanted it and any place he wanted it. That was what a slave was for, to be used for her Master's pleasure. He liked having her plead for cock, with her voice when he wasn't using her mouth, with her mouth and tongue on him when he wanted it that way.

Her hands caressed his head, he felt her body convulse as she came repeatedly. When she came she was required to confess her slavery, say "Thank you, Master, Thank you, Master", but now his cock was back in her mouth, fucking her face, and her little speech would have to be postponed. She didn't have to tell him she was cumming, he could feel her buck and he thrust his cock deeper into her mouth. Then, slowly, he pulled it out. "Turn around," she said pleadingly, "I want you on top of me".

She'd forgotten the "Please, Master", again. She was going to get it, later. He knew she loved the spankings now, loved the fact that she wasn't allowed slacks or shorts, that anytime he could keep her naked or, if she had clothing on, he could simply flip up her skirt and swat her bottom, but even if it was a treat for her, leaving out the "Please Master" was grounds for an extra spanking. Maybe that's why she did it, and he'd have to find a better punishment, like keeping her naked all day.

But right now he was going to fuck her. Hard. He spun around and lay on top of her. His cock pressed against her pubic mound, but from the outside. If she could leave out a "Please Master", he could play hard to get, too. He'd make her ask explicitly. He was humping her pubic mound now, the side of his cock sliding in the slippery wetness, his balls pounding directly on her clit. He liked the way that stimulated his balls, he could go on a long time that way.

She was squirming again, pressing up at him, her arms around him, kissing all over his face. He could feel the convulsions in her legs, her trying to squirm to pull his cock inside. She couldn't have it until she asked. He always insisted that the slave girl confess her need very explicitly.

He pushed harder on her cunt. "Put it in", she begged him. He slid his cock into her slowly, full length, slowly, teasingly. He was going to get a more explicit request than that from his fuck slave. Once it was fully into her, he held it still, watching as she squirmed around on it, trying to push harder against him. He rewarded her squirms a little, with a teasingly slow stroking motion. She was pleading for more, with her eyes, with one of her hands on his balls, gently massaging.

That was how a slave slut should act, he thought, doing all she could to make her Master's cock larger, all she could to beg him for the sort of hard fuck that would prove she was a pure cum slut wanting nothing more than to be filled hard with her Master's cum. With one hand on his bottom and one on his balls, she squirmed and thrust, showing her need for his stiff cock. He still held back, waiting for her to confess her need explicitly as well as with her hot squirming cunt.

"Harder", she said quietly. "Faster. Now. Do me hard." That was what he wanted to hear from her, and he thrust hard into her, pounding away, as if he were whipping her with thrusts of his cock, pressing hard into her and squeezing her ass up toward him to make it even more forceful.

But he wasn't done with her yet. He slowed slightly, pulled his hands from under her and started squeezing her boobs. They were his property too, and he was going to be sure she remembered it. He felt her spasm as he pinched the tits, and her cunt got even hotter and wetter. Her body was his, his toy, a receptacle for his cock and his cum, and he'd enjoy it anyway he wanted and for as long as he wanted. Yes, she could have her Master's seed, but she was going to pay for it. She couldn't kiss his ass while he was fucking her so mercilessly, but she knew that she'd have to do it, at least symbolically, before he'd stop pounding into her wet cunt.

It had been hard work training her to take his cock in her ass. And even harder to get her to kiss his ass, to tongue it the way he liked. She was well trained now, he could get whatever he wanted from a slave girl like her, and he reveled in it. And he insisted on her admitting it every time he fucked her. He saw the tension in her face as she prepared to do what she knew she had to do. Her finger in her mouth, the kiss on her finger to be delivered, her final submission of the morning. Her sexual spasms as she moved her hand around behind him. And the finger, the kiss delivered to her Master's ass as he plunged even harder into her, pumping cum into her cunt, seeming to pump endlessly as his orgasm went on and on and she squirmed and thrashed in his arms.

Afterwards, he took the slave into the shower with him. He loved toying with her body as she was required to submissively bathe his cock and balls. And it was fun feeling how juicy her cunt was after a session like that.

He got to thinking about what he'd do later. He'd pumped a lot of cum into the slave, he realized. However much he liked having her run around the place naked, that wouldn't work this morning unless he wanted puddles of sex juice on the floor. He'd have to put panties on her. But first, he thought, he'd make her kneel naked at his feet and beg for them. And maybe lick his cock for awhile. He'd liked they way she licked his balls this morning, maybe he'd get her to pay extra attention to his balls all day. The thought had a little life stirring in his cock already. Yes, he'd get a lot more out of her yet today...
Thorney 12/2002
An Unusual Style for Topping.

There was a request in the newsgroup recently for more Tops to talk more about their style, what they do, but especially why and how.

While my 'top' style is obviously not a conventional one around here, I still have felt lonely occasionally writing from the 'top' point of view. (some others have done some nice writing here on this awhile back.) I think part of this is the sense I'm violating the old rule "don't kiss and tell". When I was younger it was definitely -not- etiquette to tell what you'd gotten the girl to do, especially once it got very intimate. Certainly Mrs. Thorney was very embarrassed, early on, at my telling some of the things that she did for me and some of the things she let me do to / for her.

There is, in telling 'top' things, a definite sense of bragging, which one is -not- supposed to do, and I (and eventually she) got comfortable only when people really reassured us that they found it encouraging to hear how much fun one could have at our ages (approaching 80 for her and sixty for me, at this writing) and that our different attitude toward things was, if strange, at least refreshing.

Certainly in my recent story "two views" I was trying to capture a male top space (and an imagined female top space, or top space as imagined by male bottom? I got no feedback on that aspect) in a rather 'straight' if uninhibited sex scene.

I'll try to reread some bits of my previous postings and see if I can't say more about goals, planning, why-this, and so on, in the future. I've given the basic points previously: she wants lots of attention and affection, wants to feel sexy and desired. I want lots of sexplay, lots of sex, lots of approval. I also want a strong sense of permission to do all the things that I wasn't supposed to be allowed to do as an adolescent.

So activities (whether in bed or serving dinner) in which I can look, touch, squeeze, fondle, etc., to my heart's content -- and which she is specifically required to display herself, bend, twist, etc., meet a need for both of us.

My requiring her to frequently specifically request attention ( as in "Please spank my bottom, Master", etc.) meets my need for explicit consent as well as giving her a chance to influence the choice of activities (top from the bottom) and let me know what activities are effective for her, what she'd like to have happen more often. I want her hungry for me -- so hungry that she'll "do anything" for me. So knowing what works for her, what her level of excitement is, is very important for me.

Tuesday, December 24, 2002

See my webpage at

for several items that were once on this blog but have been deleted since why duplicate them?
A bit more biography...

Mrs. Thorney and I are both retired Computer Science
Professors. She started in physics, I started in Math, we met
in Computer Science at a small college in the 1970's. She
was among the few women teaching college physics in the US
in 1946, and suffered most of her career from being a lone women
in a department of men. She has a Master's from a very respectable
university Physics department, I have a Ph.D. in math from a top
university. After our small college we moved to a research
university and have been lucky enough to travel and lecture all
over the world. (When I got tired of London, Paris, Amsterdam,
etc., I discovered I could go lecture in Budapest, Shanghai,
Torshaven, and even as isolated a place as Zomba, Malawi.)
This is my second marriage, her third. When we met we
were both divorced, had about half-a-dozen kids between us,
all ages. All the kids are now grown (ranging from one who got
tired of being a graduate Dean and went back to faculty, to one
still in grad school) and the numerous grandchildren are age
college senior down to pre-kindergarden.
As empty nesters, we are having the time of our lives.
We are about twenty years different in age. In sexual
upbringing we were members of different generations, with very
different vocabularies. I had a tendency to say 'fuck' when she'd
prefer 'make love'. Our fanatasies, desires, etc., seemed very
different. They merged beautifully.
Our backgrounds were different in other ways, too. She was
a liberal Protestant, I was (when we met) an orthodox Jew. But we
were past the age when 'what will the children be' was a question,
and we simply merged our interests. We now belong to a Reform
Temple (since she isn't good at Hebrew). We describe ourselves
as "traditional Jews Thursday through Saturday, Liberal Presbyterians
Sunday through Wednesday, except in the summer, when we are
Baptists". Mrs. Thorney says that description is unfair, slightly:
we live in the South winters and summer in the North, where the
local liberal church is Northern Baptist (American Baptist). It
actually had to have a meeting and amend its bylaws to cope with us.

Monday, December 23, 2002

A First Entry, read this first...

OK, I think I finally have this working. Now, I get to try to start putting some stuff in. Well, actually, I've come back in July 2007 and revised a bit.

For some time, I've been active in a newsgroup, one of the ones that, on its surface, discussed bizarre sex, fetishes, etc. Ok, so it -does- discuss bizarre sex, fetishes, etc. It also has some of
the best discussions of sex, morals, etc., that I've run across on the web. But over time, I find I'm accumulating a large enough number of posts that even searching on Google doesn't help me to find the old posts of mine that I want to find.

I hope that by collecting some of the stuff in blog form I can get it into a more editable condition. The newsgroup: soc.subculture.bondage-bdsm

OK, having said that, if you are not of legal age, go away now. These musings are intended only for people of legal age to read adult stuff wherever they are, who are not offended by sex. It also helps if you aren't offended by bad jokes, frank discussions, etc.

I had also better say at the outset that my wife and I are both retired college professors, long married, lots of children and grandchildren. So we are not teenagers and aren't basically writing for teenagers; teenagers and people who are seriously into fetishes (bondage, for example) may find us rather boring.

Mrs. Thorney started teaching colleeg physics in 1946. For most of her career, she was the only woman faculty member in whatever department she taught in. I started teaching colleeg math in 1969. We got together, in computer science, in the late 1970's and married in 1983; after that we tended to be the only married couple in the department. So we often got to hear students' personal problems, love affairs, need for abortions, and the like. We are used to doing a lot of advising - both academic and personal. And one function of the newsgroup postings (and blog) is to help people learn ways to deal with odd urges, and to satisfy them in ways that don't hurt themselves or other people.

An admonition: it isn't hard to figure out our real names, but it isn't polite. And if you post in newsgroups, even anonymously, it is on the permanent record and twenty years later someone might go to the nuisance of figuring out what you post way back then and who you were and are. It has happened to prominent politicans and business executives. I / we didn't start posting until late in our careers and long past the days when we might decide to enter politics. If you are a college student and don't yet know whether you want someday to be prominent, consider carefully what you write. Sorry about that. Personal e-mails -may- not reappear in quite the same way; sometimes people have e-mailed us questions and suggested we post the question and answer in a newsgroup rather than them post it themself.