Sticks & Stones

Warning!  Adult sexual content.  You must be of legal age in your country to read this blog.

‘Cause I may be bad but I’m perfectly good at it
Sex in the air, I don’t care, I love the smell of it
Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But chains and whips excite me 

S&M by Rhianna Hate the video tho … I would have done a better job.

I am mostly submissive … in the bedroom.  I have to control so much of my life, that I just want to give up control in the bedroom.  It is a very deep, dark, secret female need.  If men only read our smut, you’d know how horny we really are.  And if you ever wanted a manual on us … Read Outlander.  Submission is not about shame and nothing to be ashamed to admit or give in to … and the men – mostly – love it.  I’ve only had one boyfriend who wanted me to stay in a Dominatrix role … and that didn’t work for me.  I can’t respect him.  I never once got to dominate Andrew*.  He was all D to my s.  Gentlemen … just like you want us to have a sexy chest, small waist and flaring hips, we want you to have some height.  And girth.  Read the latest from the Andrew Diaries here … A Bridge Too Far

However, I am also a Straight A Type-A alpha personality.  My bite is much worse than my bark.  If I have ripped you a new one, you feel the burn.  So … there are days when my Dom side shows.  Especially with cancer.  I’m forced to take steroids with chemo so my body doesn’t reject the poison.  Add some steroid rage – translated to testosterone in my body – and the Dom showed up today.

I want control.

And I will give you a tongue lashing with a whip to get it.

Dr. X likes his women feisty.  I can read male as well as I can read English and French.  I know what he wants … probably more than he does.  And I slip right into that role with ease.

You met Dr. X in Hello 911? I’m on fire! … He’s my hot surgeon who cut the cancer out of my breast.  Today was my three month post surgery check out … Felt up.

Heather X

Heather looked pretty hot in a LBD – little black dress – and black heels.  The Heather hair.  Flawless makeup complete with lashes.  A bold but not overpowering scent.  Jewelry and my favorite thumb ring.  I was oozing so much sex over the floor of his waiting room that ALL the men were reacting.  The guy sitting across from me with his wife practially fell off his chair when I uncrossed and crossed my legs.  Yes I was wearing panties.  Red hot ones emblazoned with “TROUBLE” on the back in black.

The dashing businessman scheduling his surgery overheard my conversation with Jenny*, Dr. X’s lovely assistant.  She asked me how I was doing and I told her I was rocking the cancer. We chatted about my journey.  Mr. Dashing Businessman leaned over and touched my arm as he left and said “You are a fighter!  Congratulations and keep going!” 

Damn fucking right I am.

No one left in the waiting room but me. Purrrfect … I moved to the other side.

Dr. X came out and saw me … and smiled.

“Your favorite patient is here” I sang as I waltzed into his office.  I sat down in front of his desk … and twirled my hair.  We got right down to the business of discussing my cancer and my treatment.  And he coughed and brought up reconstruction.

“We are going for broke,” I said, “My breasts won’t fit in this dress once you are done!”  I get a boob job and a tummy tuck with this cancer deal.

Dr. X moved me to the table.

Faster than I can come, I stood up and unzipped the back of my dress.  It came off.  The bra came off.  I was sitting – legs spread – in front of him.

“Thanks for the tattoo I said.

He laughed and fingered the blue dye still stranded in my epidermis above my nipple.

“The breast looks great!” he said.  I wonder what is going through his mind.

He is very … clean cut.  Boyish charm.  Almost soft spoken.  Not nerdy at all but – you know – a Doctor.  Cerebral.  Like me.  He’s always played it safe.  Until I walked into his office.  We play verbal cat and mouse.  Double entendres circling eachother.

I reach out and touch his tie.  I hold it.  And he looks up.  Startled.

And this is where the fantasy starts …

Instead of black high heels, I have on black patent leather laceup thigh-high stiletto boots.  Stockings.  A matching black bustier.  Red lipstick.

I curl my fist around his tie and reel him in.  He is as hooked as a fish on a line.  And gaping like one.  One booted foot comes up and braces itself against his chest.

“Are you a bad boy?” I ask.

“Yes,” he gulps.

“Do NOT speak until you are told to!” I yell.  I pull him in closer with his tie.  He nods.

I remove his tie.  Slowly unbutton his shirt.  His eyes close.  He can’t believe this is happening.  I pull myself to the edge of the table.  Perfect height.

I undress him … but remain dressed myself.  Stockings but no undies.  He is so hard he is ready to explode the second my hand rubs over him.  He groans.

“Sink to your knees,” I command him.  He does.  And he services me with his mouth.  I grab his hair and pull.  Hard. It hurts but he doesn’t stop because I have locked my legs around his neck.  He can’t.

I come.  And he takes the liberty – the audacity – to slip his fingers inside me to feel the orgasm.  He is so hard, his cock looks like it’s going to pop.  I am lucky.  He is a big boy …

I tell him to stand and grab him with both hands.  Slide.  Twist.  Pull.  Ever so gently.

Then I stop.  Hop down off the exam table.

“Get up” I tell him.  He doesn’t move fast enough and I kick him.  He now knows that when I say move … he moves.  Stat.  He lies down and I climb on top of him.  I position my knees at each side … one leg is almost hanging off the edge.  And slide on top of him.  And fuck his brains out.

I call him names.  I tell him I want to fuck him in the OR and to set it up.  He screams “YES!  Oh my GOD YES!” as he comes inside me.  I keep fucking him until it hurts.

He is motionless.  Best sex he’s ever had.  And he can’t get that image of fucking in the OR out of his mind.  The instruments.  The straps.  I tell him I will tie him down and leave him there.  The staff can have what’s left.  Ridden hard and put away wet.

Without a word, I get up and leave.

Jenny calls me later this afternoon to tell me my surgery is booked for next Friday …

I am the Bitch who struts across the stage with purpose … walk to the tune of Wretches and Kings by Linkin Park … Heavy metal, new metal, grunge and hard rock LOUD.

I’m in control,


*Name(s) changed to protect the guilty and the innocent!

Read the Fox Blog:  hear what the Fox really has to say

© Lisa Jobson 2017





2 Comments Add yours

  1. The V Pub says:

    Very hot, indeed!

    Liked by 1 person

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