<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889</id><updated>2012-02-05T20:15:48.087-05:00</updated><category term='poetry'/><category term='public sex'/><category term='to my love'/><category term='Writing'/><category term='true'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='original story'/><category term='blogs'/><category term='BDSM'/><category term='intro'/><category term='kink'/><title type='text'>Creative Corrections</title><subtitle type='html'>"I have been a BAD girl and I require correction.  
   
I am always hoping for imaginative punishment and you, Sir, have never disappointed me."
&lt;p&gt;
&lt;b&gt;The fiction you find here is explicit, so if you're under age... please, go do your homework or something...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-1647691620496480875</id><published>2011-08-30T08:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T08:57:24.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'>RE:hi!3Y</title><content type='html'>Wo&lt;br&gt; How are you? &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Tell you a good news, my friend found a good web site&amp;nbsp; they are mainly electronic products, low prices, you may need. Such as cameras, mobile phones, PS3 game consoles, LCD TVs, notebook computers, iPhone, motorcycle car is the most popular thing, their project is entirely consistent with the original quality, but if you want to &lt;br&gt; To this end, the wholesale busines, please do not hesitate to contact them. &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Their website: www.edadiscount.com&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; E-mail: edadiscount@yahoo.com&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; MSN/Hotmail: edadiscount@hotmail.com&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I hope you will enjoy more preferential&lt;br&gt; CV&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-1647691620496480875?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/1647691620496480875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=1647691620496480875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/1647691620496480875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/1647691620496480875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2011/08/rehi3y.html' title='RE:hi!3Y'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-3514314770879837804</id><published>2011-08-26T00:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T00:08:25.912-05:00</updated><title type='text'>RE:hi!Wu</title><content type='html'>RK&lt;br&gt; How are you? &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Tell you a good news, my friend found a good web site&amp;nbsp; they are mainly electronic products, low prices, you may need. Such as cameras, mobile phones, PS3 game consoles, LCD TVs, notebook computers, iPhone, motorcycle car is the most popular thing, their project is entirely consistent with the original quality, but if you want to &lt;br&gt; To this end, the wholesale busines, please do not hesitate to contact them. &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Their website: www.edadiscount.com&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; E-mail: edadiscount@yahoo.com&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; MSN/Hotmail: edadiscount@hotmail.com&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I hope you will enjoy more preferential&lt;br&gt; 7b&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-3514314770879837804?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/3514314770879837804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=3514314770879837804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/3514314770879837804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/3514314770879837804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2011/08/rehiwu.html' title='RE:hi!Wu'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-1236193643684301261</id><published>2011-03-23T13:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T13:29:07.169-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='original story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BDSM'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to my love'/><title type='text'>An Evening Out...</title><content type='html'>(this is a revision of a previously published story... I adapted it for someone special)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were out to dinner at a local restaurant.  It seemed as if he knew everyone who worked there, friends from his days in the restaurant biz.   After the waiter took their orders, the manager came over and he and John chatted for a while.  As they ate, several others came by the table to say ‘hi’ and asked what he’d been up to lately.  After a while they were left alone to eat and have their own conversation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The evening continued pleasantly and they talked late into the night.  They could always find things to talk about.  They had finished eating long ago and were just lingering over drinks.  It looked like the restaurant was about to close.  In fact, it was pretty apparent they were among only a few people left in the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly he stood and bent down and whispered into her ear, “I’m going to the men’s room… in a minute or two, follow me.” She was a little surprised at this request… no, not request… it was an order.  She was surprised but also very turned on.&lt;br /&gt;He turned and walked away.  Never glancing back, he walked into the Men’s Room. She just sat there for a few minutes, heart pounding so hard she was sure someone would hear it.  Finally, she rose and walked timidly toward the restrooms.  They were in an alcove, nicely hidden from view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she got to the Men’s Room door, she hesitated. Was she really going to do this?  Was she crazy?  This was pretty nasty… was it TOO nasty?  No, she was sure nothing was too nasty for him.  But, what if they were caught?  Ooh, she was so turned on… she was absolutely creaming in her jeans.  Just then the door opened a crack and he peeked out and gave her a look as if to say “well?  Are you coming or not?”She quickly slipped inside and she noticed in a flash that the place was empty. He roughly pulled her into a stall with him. She kissed him but he had other plans as he reached down and popped her jeans open and yanked them down to her ankles. He spun her around and bent her over as he slid his cock into her extremely wet pussy.  She had her hand on the back wall to steady herself as he pounded away. Pulling away, he turned her back to face him and she worked the jeans off of one foot. She was standing on one leg with the other up around his waist. He had a tight grip to that leg as he entered her pussy again.  He backed her against the stall wall and banged her up against it over and over. She was pretty sure she heard someone enter and use a urinal… but there was no stopping at this point. Did the visitor linger and listen? Hmmm, that thought popped into her head just as she started to come. As she opened her mouth to scream he clamped his hand over her lips, roughly… just the way she liked it. When her shuddering stopped he spun her around one more time and bending her over he forced his way into her ass and pumped her hard until she was whimpering. He began to shake all over. Finally, he came in a tremendous flood.  Hot, wet… filling her up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulled his jeans back into place and kissed her, deep, wet.  As she got ready to put herself back together, someone roughly yanked the stall door open.  She was horrified… Who Was this?  Why was he here? They had been caught! &lt;br /&gt;Shocked and confused, yet…&lt;br /&gt;She was still coherent enough to notice something pass between John and this other man.  There was a look.  They knew each other.  This had been planned.  All of a sudden she understood and she was starting to get angry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John stepped back and the other man grabbed her wrists and pulled her from the stall.  He held her around the waist and forced her out of the restroom into the dining room.  He had to half carry her as her jeans were still dangling from her ankles.  The lights were low and the place was deserted.  Well, almost deserted… there were other men there, she wasn’t sure how many, maybe three more.  This man put her down onto her feet and shoved her backward.  Off balance, she fell into waiting arms… John’s arms.  He nuzzled her neck and said into her ear, “This IS going to happen… you know you want it.”  As he held her tightly with one arm he took an offered beer from one of his ‘friends’.  They shared a sort of beer-bottle-clinking-salute to one another and then the man set his bottle down on the table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking up to her, while still held in John’s arms, this man started kissing her on the mouth as John was kissing and nibbling the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades.  The stranger was caressing her breasts and John was squeezing her ass.  John reached around with one hand and touched her pussy.  Just kind of cupping it with his warm hand.  She couldn’t help it, she started to moan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stranger was kissing her roughly as someone got his attention and he stepped away only to be replaced by another stranger.  This man immediately dropped to his knee and grabbed her thighs and forced them apart.  He buried his mouth in her… tongue roughly exploring her.  Her knees weakened and John now had to support her completely.  He had his right arm around her waist holding her up and took her chin in his left hand and turned her head to the side so they could kiss.  God, she loved kissing him.  Melting into that kiss, she almost forgot for a moment what was happening below… almost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man on the floor was careful to stop what he was doing before she got too close to orgasm.  As he stood up from his activity another of the men walked up.  He had his beer in his hand and with a chuckle and a mischievous twinkle in his eye; he stuck the neck of the cold beer bottle in her steaming, dripping pussy.  She gasped as he pulled it out and took a long satisfying swig from that bottle.  Grinning, he stepped around behind her and held her as John moved in front of her where she could see him.  While she watched, John started to strip.  The man behind her was replaced with another set of arms to hold her… this man was naked.  She could feel his hot cock against her ass. But she couldn’t keep her eyes off John who was now, also, naked.  Just as she thought she’d get to touch his gorgeous body, John stepped away and she was guided to a man lying naked on the carpet.  Was this someone new? She had no idea, she had lost track.  He was lying on his back relaxed with his head on his arms and his cock was hard and standing straight up.  She was guided onto his cock… as she straddled his body.  The man behind her had his hands on her shoulder and moved her against the supine stranger.  She wasn’t getting away, as if she wanted to. But another surprise was soon to follow. As she was riding the man she was pushed forward a bit and someone entered her ass.  His cock was hard and it was big… she was filled… pussy, ass… completely filled.  The only opening left was her mouth.  John approached her and offered his cock… teasingly, in front of her face.  She wanted it so badly.  After tempting and pulling away a few times he let her have it.  She sucked on it greedily as she was pounded from behind.  At one point the thrusting was so powerful she had to hold onto John’s hips for support.  John reached down and cradled her head in his hands, guiding her back and forth on his cock.  Before he was able to come, she looked up at him, moved off his cock and begged, “but I want to fuck YOU”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone placed a dining room chair in reach and John sat down.  She climbed onto his cock, finally where she really wanted to be.  He kissed and sucked her tits as she happily rode him.  But of course one of the others came up from behind and squatting on very strong legs entered her ass again.  He had to hold the back of the chair for support and the whole assembly was rocking precariously on thin chair legs.  The others (she never really knew how many) put their hands on her, touching her all over. &lt;br /&gt;She was kissing John hard with so many touching her as she and John and the stranger came… violently, amazingly the three of them came together…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-1236193643684301261?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/1236193643684301261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=1236193643684301261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/1236193643684301261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/1236193643684301261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2011/03/evening-out.html' title='An Evening Out...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-8130658482725635193</id><published>2010-12-29T23:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T23:29:03.212-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='true'/><title type='text'>You ruined everything...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ruined everything for everyone... Stupid, Selfish Bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you're proud of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-8130658482725635193?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/8130658482725635193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=8130658482725635193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8130658482725635193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8130658482725635193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2010/12/you-ruined-everything.html' title='You ruined everything...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-6981621161943048243</id><published>2010-09-12T22:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T22:13:19.515-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='true'/><title type='text'>gullibility</title><content type='html'>Do you REALLY believe what he tells you?&lt;br /&gt;Then you are much more gullible than I originally thought.&lt;br /&gt;NOTHING he says can be believed.&lt;br /&gt;Trust me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-6981621161943048243?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/6981621161943048243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=6981621161943048243' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/6981621161943048243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/6981621161943048243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2010/09/gullibility.html' title='gullibility'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-556194614494479673</id><published>2010-08-18T10:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T10:20:41.764-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='true'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Witchy poetry...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;irresponsible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;and just plain stupid too, dear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;and now i have proof&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-556194614494479673?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/556194614494479673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=556194614494479673' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/556194614494479673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/556194614494479673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2010/08/witchy-poetry.html' title='Witchy poetry...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-8759158405111239399</id><published>2010-08-16T11:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T11:29:32.242-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='true'/><title type='text'>Guess she ain't dead after all...</title><content type='html'>By the way, Witch... go write your own blog and stay the fuck away from mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-8759158405111239399?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/8759158405111239399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=8759158405111239399' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8759158405111239399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8759158405111239399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2010/08/guess-she-aint-dead-after-all.html' title='Guess she ain&apos;t dead after all...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-7458738663845218260</id><published>2010-08-16T07:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T07:29:39.090-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='true'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to my love'/><title type='text'>day is done...</title><content type='html'>you never cease to amaze me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-7458738663845218260?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/7458738663845218260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=7458738663845218260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7458738663845218260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7458738663845218260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-is-done.html' title='day is done...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-4436230820215404210</id><published>2010-08-13T12:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T12:17:30.642-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><title type='text'>Wicked fashion...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Seriously love, love, love these:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 275px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504943919803173714" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/TGV9VCBQi1I/AAAAAAAAABg/-nVyXNpTDGg/s400/TheSkinny_FallTrends2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Reminds me of what I wore the first time my master and I had a rendezvous!  I suppose that clerk had some definite opinions of who or WHAT I was! hah.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You can find more at &lt;a href="http://blog.fe21.honeycomb.net/?attachment_id=1581"&gt;The Skinny&lt;/a&gt; blog.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-4436230820215404210?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/4436230820215404210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=4436230820215404210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/4436230820215404210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/4436230820215404210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2010/08/wicked-fashion.html' title='Wicked fashion...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/TGV9VCBQi1I/AAAAAAAAABg/-nVyXNpTDGg/s72-c/TheSkinny_FallTrends2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-8649356698984803892</id><published>2010-08-08T16:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T09:39:56.234-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='true'/><title type='text'>Vindication!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; COLOR: rgb(0,153,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Ding Dong! The Witch is dead. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!&lt;br /&gt;Ding Dong! The Wicked Witch is dead.&lt;br /&gt;Wake up - sleepy head, rub your eyes, get out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;Wake up, the Wicked Witch is dead.&lt;br /&gt;She's gone where the goblins go,&lt;br /&gt;Below - below - below.&lt;br /&gt;Yo-ho, let's open up and sing and ring the bells out.&lt;br /&gt;Ding Dong' the merry-oh, sing it high, sing it low.&lt;br /&gt;Let them know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;The Wicked Witch is dead!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;umm, bub-bye! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; COLOR: rgb(0,153,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504904003391569746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/TGVZBlzHv1I/AAAAAAAAABY/1lTuylA9uAA/s320/Fairest+of+All+2+Queen-Crone-web.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-8649356698984803892?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/8649356698984803892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=8649356698984803892' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8649356698984803892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8649356698984803892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2010/08/vindication.html' title='Vindication!!'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/TGVZBlzHv1I/AAAAAAAAABY/1lTuylA9uAA/s72-c/Fairest+of+All+2+Queen-Crone-web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-4842821475827737189</id><published>2010-07-14T12:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T12:40:06.575-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to my love'/><title type='text'>This is what you did to me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"The Winner Takes It All"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't wanna talk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;About the things we've gone through&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Though it's hurting me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now it's history&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've played all my cards&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And that's what you've done too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nothing more to say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No more ace to play&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The winner takes it all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The loser standing small&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Beside the victory&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That's her destiny&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was in your arms&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thinking I belonged there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I figured it made sense&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Building me a fence&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Building me a home&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thinking I'd be strong there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I was a fool&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Playing by the rules&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The gods may throw a dice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Their minds as cold as ice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And someone way down here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Loses someone dear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The winner takes it all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The loser has to fall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's simple and it's plain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Why should I complain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But tell me does she kiss&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like I used to kiss you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Does it feel the same&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When she calls your name?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Somewhere deep inside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You must know I miss you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But what can I say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Rules must be obeyed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The judges will decide&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The likes of me abide&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Spectators of the show&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Always staying low&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The game is on again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A lover or a friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A big thing or a small&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The winner takes it all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't wanna talk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If it makes you feel sad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I understand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You've come to shake my hand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I apologize&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If it makes you feel bad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Seeing me so tense&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No self-confidence&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But you see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The winner takes it all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The winner takes it all... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-4842821475827737189?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/4842821475827737189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=4842821475827737189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/4842821475827737189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/4842821475827737189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2010/07/this-is-what-you-did-to-me.html' title='This is what you did to me...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-6224885696244641011</id><published>2010-04-04T21:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T21:30:07.733-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='true'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to my love'/><title type='text'>Betrayal most foul...</title><content type='html'>Well it appears I've been a real fool.  I've been betrayed by several people.  Worst of all my best friend, my master, my lover...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it also seems &lt;a href="http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2009/09/hey-girl.html"&gt;that this post&lt;/a&gt;, which was a response to an email I received from a would be writer, was just another example of my gullibility.  I was suckered into the belief that someone wanted my advice.  I now believe it was an email from the person who is the reason my "friend" betrayed me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My "friend" has lied to me about so many things, not the least of which was that I was "the best friend" he's "ever had".  And you have no idea the things I've done for him... the things I've done to help him... things I've done to protect him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can ever forgive this man.  He is the man I allowed to tie me and "torture" me.  He is the person I TRUSTED.  I trusted him to do so many things to me which I would never have dreamed of letting anyone do.  I let him see a side of me that no one has ever seen.  And now I don't know if I can ever let anyone else see me that way.  Maybe I will not be able to let anyone else "In". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I wanted anything in return for the things I did for him.  BUT, I was wrong... I DID want  something in return.   Of course I wanted his love but I really wanted his loyalty.  I wonder if I ever had that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been broken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-6224885696244641011?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/6224885696244641011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=6224885696244641011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/6224885696244641011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/6224885696244641011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2010/04/betrayal-most-foul.html' title='Betrayal most foul...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-8984828604604626008</id><published>2009-12-02T08:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T08:48:22.115-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to my love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Sybian Delight</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ah, satisfaction&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;thank you so much, my master&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;delightful return&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-8984828604604626008?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/8984828604604626008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=8984828604604626008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8984828604604626008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8984828604604626008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2009/12/sybian-delight.html' title='Sybian Delight'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-7408388335094412311</id><published>2009-09-24T12:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T12:35:03.380-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Writing'/><title type='text'>Hey, Girl...</title><content type='html'>Yeah, Girl...  you know who you are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still think you can't write?  Don't want to be compared to so-called "accomplished" writers? &lt;br /&gt;Well here is my really complicated advice... just DO it.  Hah, heard that somewhere before?? Yeah, I know... but that simple little sentiment is exactly what you need.  Just do it, just WRITE, often!  The more you do it, the more "natural" it will feel and the better you will get.  I promise!  No, really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sit down with pad and pen, or sit down at that laptop and start writing your thoughts.  And don't bother with grammar or spelling at first, just get some ideas on "paper".  You can always polish later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and when you're feeling more comfortable with what you've written, share it with me.  I won't publish it here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... unless you want me to.  &lt;wink&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to read it.  You can share it or you can ask me questions. &lt;br /&gt;I'm even willing to edit it for you. &lt;br /&gt;That's what I do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR... go WRITE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-7408388335094412311?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/7408388335094412311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=7408388335094412311' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7408388335094412311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7408388335094412311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2009/09/hey-girl.html' title='Hey, Girl...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-8541008264591006814</id><published>2009-08-20T21:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T21:44:19.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>momentary departure from our program...</title><content type='html'>it's a bitter pill&lt;br /&gt;betrayal by a loved one&lt;br /&gt;cuts the soul... deeply&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-8541008264591006814?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/8541008264591006814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=8541008264591006814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8541008264591006814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/8541008264591006814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2009/08/momentary-departure-from-our-program.html' title='momentary departure from our program...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-3141755627826465114</id><published>2009-08-05T08:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T14:43:17.338-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='original story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BDSM'/><title type='text'>The New One (part one)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;"I think you have a new one" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;"A new one?" &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;he asked. "What do you mean, a 'new one'?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;She said, very quietly, "a new playmate… a new… slave."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;"hmmm…" he looked her in her eyes, "and how does that make you feel?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;"oh!... Excited! Very, very excited.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And Turned on!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;He could see that she meant it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her eyes were bright with anticipation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"What is it that excites you so?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;She thought for a moment, "the possibilities… you have always created such exciting possibilities.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And with another in the mix, well that could only mean more fantasies to explore."&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then she said, "do you think we could have a party soon? I've really missed F."&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And then with a mischievous gleam in her eye she added, "do you think you can handle three of us?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;"Do I think I can HANDLE three of you??" he said, raising his voice a little.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"Well, tell me… do YOU think I can handle it?" "And tell me this, do you think you should be punished for such an impertinent question??"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;She looked down quickly, "Yes, sir… I guess I should be."&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She tried to look repentant but couldn't hide the grin forming.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"Yes, indeed I should!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;"Well, then tell me what punishment you think would be appropriate." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;She looked around sheepishly and said, "oh, I think a spanking would be good… I mean, appropriate."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;"NO," he commanded, "No, a spanking would be a reward NOT a punishment. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I think…" &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He walked over to his "closet", "No, I don't think a spanking would be appropriate at all." He came back with a blindfold in his hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;"No, please," she pleaded, "I really hate being blind-folded…"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;"Thus, the punishment!" he grinned as her smile disappeared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div id="u8CBE3E4D79B9891-138C-1C7F_EN_US" class="aol_ad_footer"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-3141755627826465114?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/3141755627826465114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=3141755627826465114' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/3141755627826465114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/3141755627826465114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-one-part-one.html' title='The New One (part one)'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-7857232721576295572</id><published>2008-05-05T23:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T00:20:58.149-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='original story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BDSM'/><title type='text'>Pyrex® ain't just for baking...</title><content type='html'>At first, he just gently touched her all over.  With the lightest feathery touch, he explored her body from toes to head.  Hardly making contact.  Maybe he was actually exploring her aura and not really touching her at all.  In another situation, it might have tickled... But this was pure sexual stimulation. When he got to her head... he stood at the head of the bed with her lying on her back.  He rubbed her shoulders, her neck... Down her chest. Slowly massaging her breasts and down her belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he started to stand back up, he lingered with his face near hers.  Her eyes were closed but she could feel him there... could feel his lips just a fraction of an inch from hers.  She could feel his breath, his energy.  She tingled with it.  She reached up with her lips and caught the briefest of kisses before he moved away.  God she loved his lips.  He knew this and he was such a tease. He bent down again and licked her nipples and gently nibbled them.  She reached up and caressed his hair, his face.  She HAD to touch him.  It's like an addiction, she can never seem to keep her hands off his body.  Sometimes he finds the need to tie them, just to make her behave.  But he didn't tie her this time, maybe he should have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He reached down and started to rub her clit... She was drenched.  His face was inches from her sex, so intent on the job at hand.  Once again, she could feel his breath on her... hot.  Her greatest wish at that moment was for him to bend lower and lick her.  Instead he rubbed harder and faster and when she was close to climax, he turned away from her.  Though this time not to tease, he was digging in his bag for something... one of his infamous toys no doubt.  Next thing she knew, he held a small but powerful vibrator to her already tingling clit.&lt;br /&gt;With short staccato movements, he would touch the vibrator to her and pull it away, then back again.  Each time, it made her body pulse up and down trying to stay in contact with the thing.  Working steadily at this task, his other hand moved in with a glass dildo (one of her favorite toys, by the way).  He inserted it into her pussy and thrust in and out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although he was quite adept at doing two things at once, she reached down and relieved him of the vibrator.  As he continued to thrust in and out, she found just the right spot with the vibrator and held it there.  Her arms ached holding it so steady but it was worth it.  She exploded in an exhausting climax as he clamped his hand over her mouth.  After all, there were people within hearing distance and she tended to make noise when she came. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was sure she'd no longer cry out, he removed his hand.  She started to hand him the vibrator as he took the dildo and put it in her ass.  Spasms arched her back.  As she settled back down he reached for the vibrator, but she decided she wasn't finished with it.  With the glass toy in her ass and his other hand moving in and out of her dripping pussy, she once again used the vibrator on her clit.  It didn't take long for her to come again, writhing around on the bed.  He thought he'd have to silence her again by covering her mouth, but she didn't want him to remove either hand from their tasks.  She tried very hard to keep her mouth tightly closed and not call out.  She was mostly successful though several whimpers and moans did indeed escape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She settled back down from one of the best climaxes she's ever had.  All she wanted now was to snuggle into his arms for a little while, but he didn't stop.  Pumping away with the Pyrex, he took the vibrator from her and resumed his earlier torture of touching it to her clit and then pulling away.  On, off, on, off... It was maddening.  More like agony now than pleasure... luscious agony... She started to ask him to stop, all the while knowing that the words "stop" or "no" held absolutely no meaning for him when he was at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she started to actually beg him to stop, she reached down and grasped the hand that was torturing her with the vibrator.  He had to leave the Pyrex where it was now and wrenched her hand away, pinning it to the bed.   He was leaning his body against her other arm... She was not going to dissuade him from his project. With a constant stream of "stop,stop, fuck! Stop, please, oh please, stop" her body arched painfully, wonderfully, spasming into another violent climax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through gritted teeth, the begging and cussing still flowed.  He held her in his strong arms as she came back down, to make sure she didn't fall.  Shaking all over, she curled up in a fetal position and practically wept... and literally purred in satisfaction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-7857232721576295572?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/7857232721576295572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=7857232721576295572' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7857232721576295572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7857232721576295572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2008/05/pyrex-aint-just-for-baking.html' title='Pyrex® ain&apos;t just for baking...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-1346040965411638836</id><published>2008-01-02T13:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T14:24:20.182-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='true'/><title type='text'>Lucid? Well, I don't know about That!</title><content type='html'>My God he was sexy… and beautiful, so very beautiful. He walked right up to me and grabbed me and we started kissing. Deep, wet, sensual kisses. I was nearly weak and he was getting hard. I could feel him pressing against me. Then we were naked. I have no idea when or how it happened.&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn’t I remember? We were making love and it was fabulous. But it all happened in such a blur. There came a tremendous rushing in my ears as I started to cum… and cum and cum… and… I woke up!&lt;br /&gt;It was a dream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Lord… what a dream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was sooo wet, couldn’t let that go to waste. So as I started to pleasure myself, I fell back to sleep. At that point, I was able to “direct” my dream. Lucid Dreaming, they call it.&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm, how nice. I started it all over again… replaying the earlier dream. It was so wonderful as I fingered myself. I didn’t think I could climax the way I had before but when it happened it was so intense that I woke myself screaming. But, I realized, my hands were on top of the covers and I hadn’t actually been touching myself. And I hadn’t screamed…&lt;br /&gt;but, I HAD climaxed!&lt;br /&gt;I was spent!&lt;br /&gt;Oh, My! It was a dream of a dream! How very odd. What a strange sensation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what a fabulous way to start the day… well, guess it’s off to work!&lt;br /&gt;----------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I've never had a dream that I was dreaming! I thought I should write it down, even if it was not as detailed as my other stories. I had to preserve it, it was plain weird... and pretty damned nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can't wait to go to sleep tonight!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-1346040965411638836?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/1346040965411638836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=1346040965411638836' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/1346040965411638836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/1346040965411638836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2008/01/lucid-well-i-dont-know-about-that.html' title='Lucid? Well, I don&apos;t know about That!'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-5387285842189674458</id><published>2007-08-29T23:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T00:46:00.048-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='original story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BDSM'/><title type='text'>a ride in the country</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.vampress.net/bettie/main.html"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104364939048967650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="259" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/RtZY3jP43eI/AAAAAAAAAAc/s4sHEVP4vIk/s320/bpart30.jpg" width="268" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She thought she’d take a chance that he’d be home… that he’d be free. He was always way too busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turned her motorcycle into his driveway. The pretense? He had never seen her bike before. As luck would have it, he was alone. He looked over her bike. It wasn’t a show bike. She liked to RIDE her bike, not rub and polish it. They talked for a while, never at a loss for things to discuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiled suddenly and said, “Hang on for a minute” and he walked away. Returning a few minutes later… he was putting on a light jacket and carrying a helmet, he also had a small back pack. “Take me for a ride” he said. Well, that’s all he had to say. She climbed on, lifted the side stand and he jumped on the back. It felt great with his arms wrapped around her waist. Turning her head so he could hear her, she asked, “So? Where to?” He thought for a minute, “Take a left up here and follow the road to…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After riding for a while he directed her to a place out in the country that she’d ridden by many times but never had reason to stop. It looked very private, quite “out of the way”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He climbed off the bike. She started to shut the engine down but he stopped her. “Just put the stand down”. When she complied, he slipped his hand down and undid her jeans.&lt;br /&gt;She lay back onto the passenger seat… holding on to the “sissy bar”. Pulling her jeans down off her hips he bent over her and began to eat her. The combination of the vibration of the engine and the movement of his tongue… sent her into convulsions almost immediately. She felt like screaming… should she? Here? It was seemingly deserted, but if someone DID hear… they might think the worst. Surely someone was being tortured. But still, it was difficult to stay quiet. No problem, he put one hand over her mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes, he offered his hand and she was able to get off the bike. They sat down in the grass. It was sunny and warm, a really beautiful day. They started kissing right away. He laid her back on the ground and stroked her hair, her face… He finished removing her clothes. This felt wild, lying in the warm grass, totally naked. She had never done this before. He started to explore her body as if for the first time. He touched and caressed every inch of her. Light feathery touches that always drive her crazy.&lt;br /&gt;He started kissing her neck all over. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids and her ears. His hot breath on her skin was so delicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being so gentle it was a surprise when he grabbed her wrists and pulled her quickly to her feet. He started to drag her over toward the edge of the woods and when she didn’t move fast enough he turned and threw her over his shoulder and carried her. He set her down on her feet and backed her up against a tree. Pulling her arms behind her and around the tree, he tied them with a rope that must have come from the back pack. Next he tied her ankles with the end of the rope… it was a long rope. Her legs were wide apart and she couldn’t move. And then he blindfolded her… oh how she hates to be blindfolded. But of course, he knows that. He walked off… behind the tree. She could hear him but what was he doing? A little while later he came back with something that he started to drag along her skin. Oh, my… it was what her grandmother would have referred to as a “switch”. Well, she thought, I guess I know where this is going. He started tapping the switch across her thighs, not hard at all… not yet. Tap tapping down her legs to the tops of her feet. Getting harder now he worked his way back up her legs. Slapping with it now… on the tops of her thighs, across her belly… up toward her breasts. There were lines now on her skin and she was whimpering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beating got harder and harder until she was sure she couldn’t take it anymore. It hurt! And she knew she was marked. Then suddenly it stopped. All she could think of was how much it stung when… he suddenly took her. Forcing his way into her…. He pounded her against the tree. The bark bit into her back and her ass cheeks. He was roughly biting her neck as he fucked her violently. She started to scream… not from fear or pain, but from ecstasy. There were no people for miles and no one could hear her but he placed his hand over her mouth anyway… because he knows she likes it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as brutal as this episode was… it was All because she likes it… so much!&lt;a href="http://www.vampress.net/bettie/main.html"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104365106552692210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/RtZZBTP43fI/AAAAAAAAAAk/c3I3VJfPnWA/s320/bpbon188.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-5387285842189674458?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/5387285842189674458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=5387285842189674458' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/5387285842189674458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/5387285842189674458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2007/08/ride-in-country.html' title='a ride in the country'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/RtZY3jP43eI/AAAAAAAAAAc/s4sHEVP4vIk/s72-c/bpart30.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-5515461800408103612</id><published>2007-07-18T06:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T06:18:04.017-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BDSM'/><title type='text'>Hey, I warned you!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://mingle2.com/blog-rating"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" alt="Free Online Dating" src="http://mingle2.com/img/bb/blog_rating/r.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:&lt;br /&gt;ass (4x)&lt;br /&gt;sex (3x)&lt;br /&gt;pussy (2x)&lt;br /&gt;pain (1x) &lt;a href="http://mingle2.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-5515461800408103612?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/5515461800408103612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=5515461800408103612' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/5515461800408103612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/5515461800408103612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2007/07/hey-i-warned-you.html' title='Hey, I warned you!'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-7105242396752174913</id><published>2007-06-17T11:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T11:41:50.216-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kink'/><title type='text'>a lack of stimulation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;...both physical and literary. This is my apology to you guys. Life tends to get in the way sometimes. I hope to have some experiences to write about in the next few weeks. Or at least, some fantasies to describe. Either way, I promise to give you something to read real soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;no, really!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077074100010988018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/RnVj_pV9sfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/xUXEanTikY4/s400/Stay+in+bed+or+go+to+church_1%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-7105242396752174913?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/7105242396752174913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=7105242396752174913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7105242396752174913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7105242396752174913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2007/06/lack-of-stimulation.html' title='a lack of stimulation'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/RnVj_pV9sfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/xUXEanTikY4/s72-c/Stay+in+bed+or+go+to+church_1%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-3325394275720462147</id><published>2007-04-01T09:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T09:58:35.267-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogs'/><title type='text'>Master Blog Search</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M4FRT2X1gV8/Rg_F6ajOxLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/fkLSI9Pkiek/s1600-h/masterenigma.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://masterenigma.blogspot.com/"&gt;Here's&lt;/a&gt; some enjoyable blog reading. I sure hope we haven't heard the last of &lt;a href="http://masterenigma.blogspot.com/"&gt;Master Enigma&lt;/a&gt;... he hasn't posted for a while. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-3325394275720462147?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/3325394275720462147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=3325394275720462147' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/3325394275720462147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/3325394275720462147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2007/04/master-blog-search.html' title='Master Blog Search'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-7521612111197673589</id><published>2007-03-16T07:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T09:58:15.154-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to my love'/><title type='text'>to you, my love...</title><content type='html'>Boss,&lt;br /&gt;I know things aren't going exactly peachy for you right now. I want you to know I love you so much and I'm always here for you.&lt;br /&gt;Hang in there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hugs,&lt;br /&gt;MC&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-7521612111197673589?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/7521612111197673589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=7521612111197673589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7521612111197673589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/7521612111197673589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2007/03/to-you-my-love.html' title='to you, my love...'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-6516333888086777745</id><published>2007-03-07T14:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T22:20:11.094-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='original story'/><title type='text'>The Appointment.</title><content type='html'>Before her last visit, she’d have said she didn’t know him at all. What is it about a hug? What passed between them in that brief contact? Too brief at that, but it was long enough for … something.&lt;br /&gt;After that, they started talking… conversations late at night. Talking about anything, everything. They started talking about sexy, intimate subjects. What made him reveal his feelings to her? Did he instinctively feel he could trust her? Did he think she needed him? Well… she did!&lt;br /&gt;It didn’t take long for her to realize that this man was getting her extremely excited. And he knew it too. Who REALLY has “cyber sex”? I mean, come on! But here she was, eagerly looking for him online late at night. And she asked him to call her… just a short hello on the cell sometime. Why does that turn her on? Just hearing his voice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She arrived this evening while he was working on a customer… it was a girlfriend of hers, getting a chemical peel. So she sat quietly waiting for him to finish. She read a little. Talked a little. During idle chitchat with her girlfriend she quickly glances at him and they exchange a knowing wink. Warmth fills her.&lt;br /&gt;When WILL she leave? She loves her friend, but she wanted time with him... personal time.&lt;br /&gt;They were alone, finally. He looked at her and just smiled ... what a great smile. It makes her melt. He locked the door. She had undressed, put on a robe and was sitting in the chair waiting for him. He sat back down and they talked for a while. What did she need today? Pedicure? Scrub? Anything else? Hmmm, there’s a question!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started with her feet. He makes sure that she’s totally relaxed. This is exactly what she needed! Pampering... time just for her.&lt;br /&gt;When he finished the pedicure. He moved to her head. He reclined the chair all the way back so she was in a lying position. And then he pushed a button that raised the chair higher. He started rubbing her neck. This could be dangerous. Her neck is her most erogenous spot. Just a touch there and it sends shivers down her spine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something has changed the moment… it feels, different. The thing is… she wants him, very badly. But he keeps working, seemingly oblivious to her aroused state.&lt;br /&gt;How well DOES she know this man? How well does she Want to know him? Now, that’s another good question. And the answer is just a little scary.&lt;br /&gt;He finished rubbing her neck and shoulders then he runs his hands through her hair, pulling her head back slightly. Soft, exquisitely sensual kiss ... his fingers lightly touching her lips ... moving down ... brushing her neck ... tracing the line of her collar bone and down her arm. Slowly, softly ... nothing urgent, nothing rushed ... time enough for that later.&lt;br /&gt;Light kisses on her neck, on her breasts... down her belly. Then his tongue…it was hot on her skin. Hold on, gotta hold on... but... Wow! This could make a girl nuts.&lt;br /&gt;Just as she thought he'd move lower... he stops. Ah, that's right... "Anticipation", she laughs.&lt;br /&gt;He comes back to her neck. He spends time here. He knows what it can do to her. He pays a lot of attention to the back of her neck, feeling how she responds, knowing EXACTLY what he's doing to her. He doesn't move from this spot, not until he senses that she's almost out of control. Almost... but not quite, he wouldn't let that happen. No, he's a master at this. He's not ready to let go of this control over her. But she’s used to being the one in control… this is quite different, very… exciting.&lt;br /&gt;He kisses her again, a little more determined this time, more passionate. And she responds… kissing him back… touching his face. They do this for a while… just kissing and touching… it feels so wonderful. It’s been a long time since a man’s touch felt this good.&lt;br /&gt;He stops and just looks at her. She loves his eyes, it’s like he can see inside her. She can’t look away… he seems to control her will. And she likes it. Funny, she’d have never believed it. She’s never allowed it before, never allowed a man to have any kind of control over her.&lt;br /&gt;He keeps asking her what she wants, but how to answer that? What DOES she want? For this to never stop? Yes, definitely that. The simplicity of the closeness, the gentle tenderness, the loving touches… They feel so wonderful, what else would she need? It’s almost like, if she tells him what she wants… it may somehow “limit” the possibilities. Does that make sense? Well, she thinks, he seems to read minds… let him figure it out. He’s done very well so far.&lt;br /&gt;He kisses her again and then moves his attention between her legs… just lightly caressing at first. Then he slips his hand down to her clit. Slowly at first… gently rubbing. He takes his other hand and slips a finger inside her. While slowly moving his finger in and out, he increases the speed on her clit creating more friction. In the past, it has always taken so much effort to make her come… in fact, she rarely does except when she’s doing the work herself. But it didn’t take long this time. Arching her back, she came… her body shuddering, quietly sighing.&lt;br /&gt;He moves back up, leaning on his elbow and just looks at her. She had her eyes closed and she felt like she was glowing, so warm, so comfortable and so spent. She could feel him there, his face just inches away from hers. She opened her eyes and kissed him. He just kept touching her face… brushing her hair from her brow. He was biding his time until she came down from her high.&lt;br /&gt;As she regained her senses, he smiled a devilish smile and produced a toy from somewhere… it was a vibrator. Turning it on, he starts to rub it all over her… moving it to her clit… her still tingling clit. He teases at first but eventually he gets it in the perfect spot and just keeps it there. If the first time was a steadily escalating climax… this time it came crashing upon her. She gasped and thrashed about. But he didn’t move. He kept his toy right where it was and made her ride the wave. When she finished her shuddering he put the toy away. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to a sofa and lay down with her. They cuddled for a while and she thought, as good as the climax was… this was just as good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was so comfortable… so content. But he wasn’t. He slipped out of his clothes and was rock hard. He just rubbed against her until she couldn’t stand it any more. Well, So much for cuddling. “Make love to me”, she whispered. He said, “I’ve been doing that all night”, but he obliged. Slowly at first, then he fucked her hard and she came yet again. This time the best of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought? Certainly not her… so many times in one evening. He truly is a Master.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-6516333888086777745?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/6516333888086777745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=6516333888086777745' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/6516333888086777745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/6516333888086777745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2007/03/how-it-all-started.html' title='The Appointment.'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-464935921070188546</id><published>2007-02-21T22:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T14:54:54.083-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='original story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BDSM'/><title type='text'>Head over Heels!</title><content type='html'>“So, what ARE those things?”&lt;br /&gt;He looked at her with those luscious eyes, batting his lashes in that ‘I’m so innocent’ manner. “These?” “These are the latest thing… Gravity Inversion Boots” he said.&lt;br /&gt;“And what do you do with Gravity Inversion Boots” she asked. Actually, she knew what they were and she knew what they’re used for… but she wondered what HE had in mind for them. She could only imagine.&lt;br /&gt;“Why… for hanging upside down, of course.” “You know… it’s therapeutic…” he told her.&lt;br /&gt;“OH! You bought them to help your back.” She said, with some skepticism.&lt;br /&gt;“Uh, No, actually I bought them for you.”&lt;br /&gt;“But I’m not having back problems. In fact, my back has never felt better” she assured him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he steered her into the room, he said, “Well, we want to keep it that way don’t we?” He led her to a sort of… bench. It was tall for a bench and it was padded. It looked very sturdy and her stomach gave a bit of a flutter. He started to remove her clothing. Slowly, he began unbuttoning her blouse as he gently kissed her neck… her ear… her face. As he slid the sleeves off her arms, he kissed her shoulder and slowly moved down to her breasts. He caressed her for few moments with his lips then went back to the job of undressing her. He slid her jeans off her hips and held her steady as she stepped out of them. Circling her waist with his arms, he held her close and kissed her a few minutes more… then he picked her up and laid her onto the bench. She loved how strong he is. On her back now, she looked up and noticed that there were chains hanging from the ceiling. Those flutters in her stomach now became tremors. She has always trusted him completely… but she was pretty nervous. This was completely new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He put the boots on her ankles… making sure they were nice and tight and then he hooked them to the chains.&lt;br /&gt;As he started to haul her up… up toward the ceiling… her butt lifting off the bench, she starts to murmur. “Are you really sure about this?” “Are you sure those chains will hold?” “What if…?”&lt;br /&gt;“Am I going to have to gag you?” he said impatiently.&lt;br /&gt;“No, no… please don’t do that. I’ll be good.”&lt;br /&gt;“Then don’t question me! Have I ever disappointed you?”&lt;br /&gt;“No Sir! Never!” She hurriedly said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, she was looking forward to being suspended. She had always wanted to try it. But just as her ass left the bench, he stopped. He cuffed her wrists and fastened them to the legs of the bench. So, here she was… on her back, legs in the air and arms securely shackled below her…. She wasn’t going anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;He kissed her lips, his tongue entering her mouth… it was so delicious. Pulling away, he produced a riding crop and started to rake it across her body… slowly, gently… teasing. She knew that wouldn’t last. She was getting so turned on just as he slammed the crop across her bare ass. She lurched intensely, trying to get away. There wasn’t much room for her to move… but she strained hard against her bonds. Again with the crop… over and over he smacked it against her as he changed his trajectory ever so slightly. Fine red lines were appearing on her skin. It stung excruciatingly yet she was more turned on than she’s ever been.&lt;br /&gt;She was starting to whimper and she wondered how much more she could take. But he knew… he always knew. She started to beg him, “Please, Boss…. Please stop… I can’t… I want… “&lt;br /&gt;“Who gives a rat’s ass WHAT you want?” He roughly yanked her hair backward and bit her on her neck… just hard enough to make her very, very wet. He ran his tongue up her neck to her ear and whispered, “I’ll stop when I’m ready to stop” he said. He whacked her two, three more times then reached down and unhooked the shackles letting her arms go free. He hauled her up higher. Pulling on the chains, he lifted her completely off the bench and pulled it out of the way. Now she was totally suspended… upside down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her only real view was of his feet and legs, but her hands were free and she could touch him. Thank goodness! She hates not being able to touch him… even if it’s just to hold on to his pant leg, she felt so much happier.&lt;br /&gt;She had no view at all of what he was doing; she couldn’t see the “Magic Wand” vibrator he had just plugged in. He placed it between her legs and switched it to high. Holy Smokes! What a feeling!&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it was the blood rushing to her head… maybe it was being suspended with her legs wide apart. Whatever it was, she felt completely out of control. He has tied her down in the past. But this was truly amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He found the perfect spot and put some pressure on the vibrator. Her body started to shake. As she started losing control she began to scream… he reached down and clamped his hand across her mouth.&lt;br /&gt;That’s all it took… she came in wild, violent spasms. Never had she climaxed like this! It was the most intense and wonderful thing she had ever felt.&lt;br /&gt;How does he do that??&lt;br /&gt;How does he always make it bigger… better… perfect?&lt;br /&gt;Completely exhausted, she was totally unable to help him as he lowered her back to the bench. He removed the boots… those wonderful boots. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her off to bed where he held her warm and safe. She was completely wasted and so very content. And her back felt really good too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-464935921070188546?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/464935921070188546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=464935921070188546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/464935921070188546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/464935921070188546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2007/02/head-over-heels.html' title='Head over Heels!'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-3172463304640755543</id><published>2007-02-19T19:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T14:52:02.250-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='original story'/><title type='text'>The Restaurant</title><content type='html'>They had planned it ahead of time… sort of. They talked about it a little. So when they both turned up at the same restaurant on the same night, it seemed the time was at hand.&lt;br /&gt;She was there with her group of girlfriends. It was their “once-a-month” dinner out.&lt;br /&gt;She didn’t really know why he was there. It only mattered that he WAS there. She wanted this so badly… wanted him so badly!&lt;br /&gt;He always had a knack for making her fantasies come true. Could he pull this one off? What a delicious thought. She sat making small talk with her friends all the while sitting in a veritable puddle.&lt;br /&gt;Edgy as hell, she tried to act normally. All she could do was think of the scenario in her head. It seems so… well… DIRTY, so taboo. And damn it to hell, she wanted to do it.&lt;br /&gt;Was it too nasty even for him? She didn’t think there was anything too… well too anything for him.&lt;br /&gt;As the night wore on, she was convinced that it just wasn’t to be. She kept stealing glances in his direction, careful to not be noticed. He looked at her only a couple of times… with a twinkle in his eye. He looked so… mischievous. But still, there was no signal, nothing to hint that it might actually happen.&lt;br /&gt;It was quite late; pretty soon the restaurant would be closing. Of course the “girls” were oblivious to everything but their conversations. When, finally she noticed him moving toward restrooms that were in an alcove, nicely hidden from view. Never glancing back, he walked into the Men’s Room. It made sense; it would be much safer than the Ladies Room. She excused herself from the table. She said no more to them than “I’ll be right back”. She knew if she said she was going to the Ladies Room someone would tag along. Women like to visit the bathroom in packs it seems.&lt;br /&gt;When she got to the Men’s Room door, she hesitated. Was she really going to do this? Was she crazy? What if they were caught? Ooh, she was so turned on… she was absolutely creaming in her jeans. Just then the door opened a crack and he peeked out and gave her a look as if to say “well? Are you coming or not?”&lt;br /&gt;She quickly slipped inside and she noticed in a flash that the place was empty. He roughly pulled her into a stall with him. She kissed him but he had other plans as he reached down and popped her jeans open and yanked them down to her ankles. He spun her around and bent her over as he slid his dick into her extremely wet pussy. She had her hand on the back wall to steady herself as he pounded away. Pulling away, he turned her back to face him and she worked the jeans off of one foot. She was standing on one leg with the other up around his waist. He had a tight grip to that leg as he entered her pussy again. He backed her against the stall wall and banged her up against it over and over. She was pretty sure she heard someone enter and use the urinal… but there was no stopping at this point. Did the visitor linger and listen? Hmmm, that thought popped into her head just as she started to come. As she opened her mouth to scream he clamped his hand over her lips, roughly… just the way she liked it. When her shuddering stopped he spun her around one more time and bending her over he forced his way into her ass and pumped her hard until she was whimpering. He began to shake all over. Finally, he came in a tremendous flood. Hot, wet… filling her up.&lt;br /&gt;They pulled their respective jeans back into place and then shared a deep, wet kiss. He walked out of the bathroom, glancing back at her just long enough to convey that the coast was clear. She then left the bathroom and made her way back to her table. The girls were still chatting happily to one another. As she sat down, she realized they barely noticed she was gone. How long had it taken? Not long it seemed.&lt;br /&gt;But long enough, she was spent and completely happy. He’d done it again!&lt;br /&gt;And they had never said a word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-3172463304640755543?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/3172463304640755543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=3172463304640755543' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/3172463304640755543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/3172463304640755543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2007/02/restaurant.html' title='The Restaurant'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3361766760627459889.post-6862854351254607999</id><published>2007-02-10T16:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T02:06:35.725-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='intro'/><title type='text'>morgan am I</title><content type='html'>- and good erotic fiction do I enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, I was watching &lt;a href="http://www.starwars.com/clonewars/"&gt;Star Wars Ep. 2 The Clone War&lt;/a&gt; today and it's got me talking like Yoda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really into this "blogging thing" but I thought I'd give it a try. I wanted a place to share some of the erotic fiction I write. Also, I plan to showcase fiction from some of my friends who are not as brave as I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yeah, right&lt;/strong&gt;... she says that when all you know about her is her first name (if that is INDEED her real name. eh?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This site is dedicated to my Dearest Love... my "Boss"... my "Master"... the man who makes me tingle all over... quite literally!&lt;br /&gt;You know who you are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my &lt;a href="http://www.namaii.com/readme/"&gt;DISCLAIMER&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3361766760627459889-6862854351254607999?l=creativecorrections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/feeds/6862854351254607999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3361766760627459889&amp;postID=6862854351254607999' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/6862854351254607999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3361766760627459889/posts/default/6862854351254607999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creativecorrections.blogspot.com/2007/02/morgan-am-i.html' title='morgan am I'/><author><name>Morgan C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09611002822774150813</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
