My new image, They Will Know, is up at StoriesOnline.net. It’s a short FemDom story about a woman who has become obsessed with asphyxiating her partner. In terms of my codes it’s (MF Fdom Msub Breath).

I’ll be posting my stories there from now on, and will be moving some stuff from my ASSTR site to there, as well. (I won’t be taking down ASSTR, just not updating it as much).

Feel free to vote on the story at SOL, or to leave comments here or there.

Thanks!

OK, so this isn’t necessarily a cool thing of this week. But it is a cool thing. The Sexy Wife and I were looking at a craft consignment shop here in town, called Wholly Craft. We were checking it out to see if she wanted to sell some of her bags, cards, or other craftilicious items.

The shop is odd, with fun stickers, amigurumi, weird re-crafted stuff. They have a myspace page, and if you live in Columbus and are remotely retro-crafty, you should check it out. We originally found them by way of Sublime Stitching (by way of BoingBoing). So we went to the back where the kits were, and looked at them — they didn’t have the one SexyWife wanted, but they had some other things.

I wasn’t so interested in the embroidery (although they did have two private-parts cross stitch patterns that looked simple enough). What grabbed my attention (I don’t know why) was the latch hook rug kits. I think it was the expression on the woman’s face (the photo used here is of the kit that caught my eye). Something about it just said “porn face” to me.

Turns out I wasn’t really wrong. A glance around the shop and I discovered an advertisement card for Made With Sweet Love, which sells the kits. They’ve got several smallish rug kits for sell, but I admit my interest now is in something bigger (they have a picture of someone lying on a huge floor rug). I’ll never do the whole kit, I admit, but it had me looking. There’s places to buy precut flesh colored thread, and I could probably photoshop up some graphics once I have the palette squared away.

Of course, I don’t have time for this. But I accept gifts. Really. (as if)

(I know I said I’d do a Round Table post today, but I realized I mis-read the topic, and need to start anew)

Bear with me as I work on writing a game design document. I’ve done plenty of design documents in my life, but never for a game. I’ve written a few computer games, but nothing substantial. It’s an interest, and something I want to work on. Also, a certain kind of game is the goal of this blog. So I need some practice. Feel free to leave suggestions, tips and other info on any of these posts — it will be very much appreciated.

The game is generally described here, and all the posts about it can be found under the sex butler category.

The overall tone of this game is lighthearted, which fits the casual-game origins of the design. Because of who I am, it’d be nice if it promoted safer sex and sex education (without being heavy handed about it), and was generally open to various genders and attractions, while letting the player guide that in the way that he or she is comfortable. I also don’t want this to be just a diner-dash style game, and want to mix in some tycoon-style sensibility to it. That is, it’s not just a click-fest, but between levels (or as part of an ongoing gameplay), there are business decisions about what sorts of rooms, open areas, products and advertising the player can offer.

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The Erosceror

(F-solo fant)
Story Prompt: “It was the last night of _____”

It was the last night of her training, and Natalia sat in contemplation in the utter dark of the training room.  It was below the Master’s dungeons, unlit, the door into it formed only at a special keyword, that only he knew.  Magic kept the air fresh; depth kept it pleasantly cool.  There was no light, no sound from anywhere, and no way to escape.  No one was coming for her either.  She was trapped.

Of course, she was a trained erosceror; well, almost trained.  This last test would confirm her training, and her ability as a magic-wielder.  It wasn’t a matter of weakness — the weak never made it this far.  No, it was a matter of control.  Up until now, her magics were controlled by her master.  She had to prove she was the master of her own magic, or she was too dangerous.

So here she was, far from anyone else, so that they would be safe no matter what happened.  If she couldn’t control her own magic, the Others would control her through it, and the Others would use her to destroy her people, or to generally cause mischief if they were particularly blind, depending on how benign they were.

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It is, perhaps, easier for me to post pictures of nude lovers and myself than to post this. It seems to me that showing skin, semi-anonymously on the internet is risque, but ultimately not truly ‘nekkid.’ The things that really bare us, bare us to the soul.

And there are things which I don’t want to show on the Internet. Things of which there aren’t even any pictures, truly. Things which are gone.

In my case, I’m talking about my teeth.
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Lottery Winner

Prelude — An Interest of Blowjobs

(MF Mdom FSub BDSM Oral)

I suppose she was right, in a way. Money changes perspective, and a lot has happened to me since I won the lottery. But it wouldn’t have happened except for Cassie. The money wouldn’t have come, and certainly none of the things I did afterwards would have happened either. Playing the lottery was her idea, even down to the numbers we played; I even bought the ticket on one of my days with her.

It was an early November day, and errands brought me to the Short North when I got a text message. I was in C&C’s Leather Or Lace, mainly taking in the scent of leather. I was also talking to Carl, one of the proprietors about his more expensive floggers, and looking through the new toys with an eye on expanding my toolbox.

I flipped open my phone, and smiled to myself when I saw the message. It was from Cassie, and was simply “dads pmt here.” I texted back a quick “brt,” and finished my conversation with Carl, who was telling me where to purchase buffalo hide that had been tanned appropriately for a flogger. At over $200 I wasn’t quite ready to buy his yet, and he was a crafter, so he got the whole do-it-yourself thing. I work from home, and often have downtime during which to make things. A decade of customer service — and nearly as long in the scene — allowed me to finish the conversation politely, tentatively agreeing to come to his whip-making demo over the weekend.

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Ginger’s Product Spotlight and History: The All-Love QuaDong

It’s an odd product with few like it.  Freely downloadable yet expensively customizable, the All-Love QuaDong is the product of the new up-and-coming HandCrafted SexToys company.

The legend is that the invention of the All-Love QuaDong, the sex toy that’s “coming” to a maker near you is that it happened between two women, drunk with passion.  Arthur Riddle, chairmen of HP’s Maker division says “this just goes to show how easy it is to design your own tools, toys and toasters with our CAD Software and Maker.”  Tom Jacobs, the husband of one of inventors says, “If they were drunk, I couldn’t tell.  Maybe they burned off all the alcohol after they made it.  Still, the CADwork was really good for someone as plastered as Eppie claims she was.”

Sandra Collins, oen of the inventors, tells the story like this:

Eppie and I were having a girl’s night in.  Watching chick-flicks and comedies and drinking handmade margaritas.  I know I was getting tipsy because every time Eppie would laugh at the screen, I’d turn and watch as her breasts bounced with each breath and giggle. I mean, I’ve always been attracted to her, but that night I lost all control.  It had to be the alcohol. 

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Story Arc: Prompts: “Write about eating a meal”

It was semi-formal, family style Italian. She’d worn a nice skirt, like he’d asked. Ross sat across from her, suit and tie forming a fine, if devilish figure. He adjusted the lapels of his jacket, and the humming started again deep inside her. “Definitely Devilish,” she thought. She took a bit of the salad and passed the bowl to the lady to her right.

The woman was in her late fifties and Rae thought that her hair had been dyed a silver-blue that so many old ladies get. Rae didn’t think much, though as the buzzing intensified, and she was forced to squeeze her legs together to make sure no one could hear it except herself. She couldn’t help it — the vibrations ran up and down her spine, and shook her core. Then they stopped abruptly as the waiter moved up and down the line refreshing everyone’s wine.

Ross just smiled at her, and took a bite of salad.
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I know I promised a Mostly Fiction story today, but that’s not happening. The piece I’d originally envisioned grew out of those bounds, and is sitting half-done in google documents. Maybe later. Even this piece grew as I wrote it, thus creating a new tag here, “scrimshaw ivory.” About which I’ll say more later, I hope.

As always, our NSFW stuff is behind a link. The story starts safe enough for both you and Cleo…

Cleo Tickles The Ivory

F-Solo

The groove was going well. Cleo nodded to Sam as she pounded the keys of her synthesizer. The gig was going well, even if the spring heat pointed to an even muggier summer. Still things were good, she’d travelled hundreds of miles to go to the Savanna School of Art and Design, and had been able to hook up with a cool band. They’d been hired to do music in the open air market near the school — a pedestrian friendly, arty space that had become home to her and her friends.

Sam started a complicated riff on her 12-string, and Cleo went for a more subdued complement, following in behind her as she scanned the crowd. It was the normal kind of thing, artsy kids and tourists, and the occasional creepy looking guy. She smiled at the crowd as they approached and dropped loose change into the band’s hat.

The merchant’s association was paying them to play, but tips were always appreciated. One of the creepy guys dropped a bill into the hat, and Cleo felt like he was looking right at her. She shivered, but then got back into the music as he walked away.

After the set, she, Sam and Tal, their drummer, loaded the gear up on Tal’s truck. “I’ll just put the camper shell on it,” Tal said. “We’ll need it all tomorrow anyway. Either of you need a ride back?”
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This week’s Cool Thing is the game Mighty Jill Off by Anne “Dessgeega” Anthropy. It’s made in Game Maker, a freeware application for, well, making games. It is also BDSM-themed, which is how it caught our attention here at Cult of the Turtle.

Indie games are the rage this year, especially after the Independent Games Festival a few weeks ago, and while this game wasn’t one of them, it still shows the kind of thing that can come out of the indie games movement. The game was released on February 29th, and as we’re sure was intended by the author, the main mechanic in the game is jump–, err leaping.

The mechanic itself is interesting: the left and right arrow keys to move horizontally, and the ‘Z’ key to jump. Instead of the traditional “press jump to double-jump” that is common in platformers like this, instead the second ‘Z’ press cancels your jump. Tapping the ‘Z’ button after that allows you to float, as Jill is “flapping her rubber cape.”
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