Belgian porn studio Slapwel Lutgardis announced today it has indefinitely suspended popular “Slapwel Slut” Elise Clijters for taking a side job with the Belgian government, which the studio said constitutes a violation of a non-compete clause contained in the performer’s contract.
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Friday, December 16, 2016
Thursday, December 15, 2016
Perverted Poet Strikes Again.
I sent this photo to the perverted poet....just messing with him, with the message:
"Came across this. Decided to save/send it for you....as it reminds me of you. :)"
He sent me this back:
A short e-mail. Read quickly. Curiosity piqued, he instantly downloaded the attached pic. The tongue against the cock he noted first. Sexy as hell. He had long-known Her ways, so all that he saw and read next was skewed by assumptions. He saw mesh underwear. He saw a bigger, better cock than this. Complete with bulging veins! He saw the look in the woman's eyes, which said, in every way, "Don't you wish you were him? Don't you wish you were here?"
His eyes drifted to the right, and scanned the caption. Nothing jumped out. He read what he wanted to see. What he expected to see. Yet...something didn't feel right. "Mmm, isn't this a delicious looking cock, Hubby? Do you want to see your wife with a hot dick in her mouth?" Just Vanessa being Vanessa. Smartass Cuckoldress Extraordinaire. The rest of the words just sort of melded into the first two sentences. They didn't register. But something lingered...a feeling of missing something, and so he endeavored to read it again. Slowly.
The words came first. "Well, too bad for me, he's gay. Tonight I get to watch."
"Watch what? What the hell, Vanessa?" Those were his first wistful thoughts. Then came reflection. Then came sobering thoughts. Those eyes weren't saying, "Don't you wish you were here?" He already was there! Right there in Her presence! A willing participant! Or to the extent a heterosexual man sucking a thick, veinous cock can be willing. In fact, his first thoughts weren't even of sucking the damned thing! It was of being taken by it! And at this point the woman in the picture became Vanessa. Not in image, but in Essence. An Essence which peered into his soul. And the eyes became ones not of "Don't you wish..." but of "I know you will..." Amused eyes. Knowing eyes. Laughing eyes.
"I've never been done," he had joked. Hence Her words of "it reminds me of you," followed by a goddamned smiley face!
And his hands started to shake, literally, and he felt a tingle between his legs. One wholly beyond his mind, beyond his control. And he felt fear. A vague, enveloping fear. And he felt vulnerable. And he didn't like it. Yet it was there. It was one of those handful of moments that all come to during their lives. Points of "before this" and "after this." And "this" was a realization that his cock would make him do anything to please Her, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. This was beyond an issue of willpower. Hell, She bypassed willpower and went straight to something She saw. A weakness to be exploited. For Her pleasure.
He felt...exposed. But not in the normal sense one feels exposed. Instinctively he knew something had been breached, but had no clue what, and thus had no clue how to defend it, leaving him groping around blindly in the dark. Reeling. She spoke Soul to soul, and Her Soul knew what She wanted, and conveyed it to his soul. "My will be done."
The eyes are the window to a man's soul, but a man's cock is the key to his soul. He remembered Her writing words along those lines. And instinctively knew he'd never doubt it again.
His mind reflected on the caption's words once more. This time the last two sentences. "Well too bad for me he's gay." And in his mind he could hear Vanessa now say, "But not to worry!" And then the last sentence, "Tonight I get to watch." And he thought how Vanessa would watch, and how the script would be written by Her, and performed to the letter!
And at last his eyes went back to the picture. Those weren't mesh underwear. They were pantyhose! The cock never intended for Her. It was intended for him. Hands shook. Heart raced. Mind reeled.
Separated by countless miles, She somehow had touched him. Nowhere to hide. He knew the likelihood of their paths crossing was virtually nonexistent, but was also left with gnawing "What ifs..." What if they did cross? What if She did want to watch him be taken, for Her amusement and pleasure? And he knew without hesitation that he would do anything She asked of him, just to feel the smile of Her soul...
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Saudi police arrest woman who tweeted photo of herself not wearing a hijab.
I'm not going to go off on one of my rants here, but female domination (to me) is not about strapons and sitting on guys faces....its about autonomy, free will, equality, safety and equal rights. Its about not being arrested or executed based on some peoples nonsensical 700 to 2000 year old religious ideals and dictums.
Cuckolding Turns These Husbands On.
An older article but for some reason it popped up and might be of interest to some. :)
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