November 2017

A Woman Named Rain

A Place for Him

His house was empty, office overcrowded. The restaurant food tasted of broken dreams. It made his teeth grind, head feel like a ticking bomb.
John drove away from the madness, saw Diana standing in the rain. There was a place for him in the entrancing pools of her eyes. He smiled and opened the door.

I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately. One of them is voice recognition software. Why? Frankly, because I want to be able to create more things but without overexerting myself in the process and something like this could go a long way in helping me achieve just that. For now, it’s just a thought, but it’s there, alongside with plenty of others concerning Spell… B-O-U-N-D as a whole and what I want my place in the fetish community to be as I continue to go along on this journey.

Speaking of finding one’s place, that’s not always easy, is it? Well, for some people, it almost seems like the easiest thing in the world as everything seems to align perfectly for them from the get-go. For others, it’s one hardship after another, only seeing grey instead of clear blue skies. All places in the world have been discovered by someone else and, try as one may, you just can’t fit in anywhere.

It’s all a matter of perception of course. A twisted view of things can only produce twisted outcomes in a never-ending loop of self-fulfilling prophecies. I’ve been down that road myself so I’m talking from experience here. On the darkest periods of my existence, I’ve felt like I didn’t belong anywhere, that my place was to be stuck inside my own mind, away from everything and everyone. I’ve felt like a burden, I’ve felt like trash, I’ve felt like shit. When you’re down there, in the gutter, it’s so easy to stay down, wrapped in self-pity and misguided bitterness. It’s easy to make your place a festering cesspool of misery instead of a creative, happy one. It’s easy to blame others for your shortcomings, even easier to push them away, breaking everything good in the process.

I urge you all not to go there, no matter how easy it is to do so. I’m still discovering my place in life, but I know it involves being creative and helping others within reasonable limits. My place can only grow as I allow myself to experience more things, starting with my writings and moving beyond them. If you haven’t found your place yet, may you do so and be happy.


Slip of the Tongue

Dean was masturbating furiously, unable to stop.
“This is going to end poorly,” Marjorie cowered in a corner.
“Nonsense. He can’t come until I say the magic word and I’m not going to,” Lydia smirked.
“What if you slip up?”
“I’m not going to say “cannonade” just like… shit!”
The bedroom exploded in creamy white.

What better way to start another week of writing than with a bit of humor? Slips of the tongue happen when we least expect them. Some are harmless, others have the potential to bring about the end of the world as we know it. Okay, the last bit is probably a bit of an exaggeration but the room for embarrassment (and other things) is certainly there.


Faulty Memories

“You’re very tense today,” Kathryn noted.
“Yeah, feeling a bit stiff,” Alex mumbled.
“Stiff can be good but I know just the thing to help you relax…”
“Don’t do hypnosis, remember?”
“I remember you said otherwise yesterday and the day before that.”
“That’s funny… I don’t.”
He wouldn’t remember staring helplessly at her pendant either.

My neck hurts. It’s been hurting all the day. I blame the weather shifts, the sudden temperature drops. Last week, it felt like Summer around here, now it seems Winter has come. An extra blanket or two in bed might be in order although I could go for a massage as well.

Funny thing about me: I’m actually good when it comes to that. At least, that’s what I was told by an ex of mine. I’m going to choose to believe that’s truly the case but massaging myself isn’t quite as satisfying as having some tender female hands taking care of business and since women taking care of business is what this site’s all about…


Trance Recognition

Andrew was confused. The facial recognition wasn’t working, no clue why.
“Were you doing anything different when you activated it?” Dan asked.
“No, I… wait…”
Andrew grabbed his cell, called his girlfriend, Sophia.
“Honey, can you please hypnotize me right now?”
“Gladly,” she cooed.
His eyes widened, his jaw slacked. The laptop started working again.

The story above is rated F for… facial recognition. What, you were expecting something else? There are indeed many words that begin with F but let’s stick with PG-13 ones today, shall we?

Facial recognition is all the rage now especially with the whole debacle about iPhone X and whatnot. I actually considered doing a piece focused on it, but ultimately decided against it. Still, the overall theme is good enough for a little bit of fetish fun and I’m pretty sure this is a new subject for me so… two birds with one stone as they say.


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