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Naughty At Work - Pics, Gifs, & Personal Posts

LillianDevereux said:
My Dear SIR…Just a short note and views with the goal in keeping you engaged! Here are a few of my 8x10 ‘Studio Photographs’ and tiptoeing delicately in my tall black 5-inch ‘thigh-high’ ballerinas and balancing myself precariously on point. One might think from looking at me that I am sweet an innocent. But more often than not, I am anything but that!

I now remember the photographer, he was a bit over 5- feet tall, had the small sad brown eyes of a lonely boy and a mocking smile. Aren't you a nymphomaniac? He asked me in utter ignorance and quite innocently? Oh non, I giggled, I'm just a simple submissive and always in control as you can see, well, almost. Were you ever in love? In love I mused? “Well a few times for sure!” My deep blue eyes were sparkling and for just a moment he seeing a glint of my longing. I felt however strange why he would ask me such a question? So I stood there in his studio, in his bright lights and his eyes on mine. The lights slick in my face. My anticipation and imagination running in overdrive! He probing and pushing me into describing my most favorite photo positions; my fetishes; who are the pictures for and more! Much more!

To my delight one of his photo-shoot requirements included wearing a variety of my most favorite stilettos and which had become a ‘standard fare’ in all of our studio sessions. Just like the many rituals that have been following me throughout my entire D/s life with being laced tightly into a supple leather corset so that becomes my second skin—me lovingly breathing the pain and exhaling short moments of constricting pleasure.

The shoes however may change but the tottering never would. To tottering on my heels during our shoots was for me like doing a 'fuck-dance' for his inquisitive lens washing over me. I was in heaven and full of expectation and under the ‘face to face’ control of his camera. I love to skillfully using symbolism and anti-fashion accessories such as equestrian riding gear and uniforms, all pushing the envelope of my erotic style and needs.

Yes…details, subtleties and nuances are everything in my D/s world! For me there is so much about the feel, the touch, the look, the smell and the sounds. Very much like a padlock being closed or the click of a lock releasing…and in concert with the sting of a ‘Single Tail’ deliciously lessening on the cheeks of my ass or in the folds of my pussy. Best…lilly!

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Women in corsets look so sexy! They suit you lilly 😜
 
LillianDevereux said:
My Dear SIR…Just a short note and views with the goal in keeping you engaged! Here are a few of my 8x10 ‘Studio Photographs’ and tiptoeing delicately in my tall black 5-inch ‘thigh-high’ ballerinas and balancing myself precariously on point. One might think from looking at me that I am sweet an innocent. But more often than not, I am anything but that!

I now remember the photographer, he was a bit over 5- feet tall, had the small sad brown eyes of a lonely boy and a mocking smile. Aren't you a nymphomaniac? He asked me in utter ignorance and quite innocently? Oh non, I giggled, I'm just a simple submissive and always in control as you can see, well, almost. Were you ever in love? In love I mused? “Well a few times for sure!” My deep blue eyes were sparkling and for just a moment he seeing a glint of my longing. I felt however strange why he would ask me such a question? So I stood there in his studio, in his bright lights and his eyes on mine. The lights slick in my face. My anticipation and imagination running in overdrive! He probing and pushing me into describing my most favorite photo positions; my fetishes; who are the pictures for and more! Much more!

To my delight one of his photo-shoot requirements included wearing a variety of my most favorite stilettos and which had become a ‘standard fare’ in all of our studio sessions. Just like the many rituals that have been following me throughout my entire D/s life with being laced tightly into a supple leather corset so that becomes my second skin—me lovingly breathing the pain and exhaling short moments of constricting pleasure.

The shoes however may change but the tottering never would. To tottering on my heels during our shoots was for me like doing a 'fuck-dance' for his inquisitive lens washing over me. I was in heaven and full of expectation and under the ‘face to face’ control of his camera. I love to skillfully using symbolism and anti-fashion accessories such as equestrian riding gear and uniforms, all pushing the envelope of my erotic style and needs.

Yes…details, subtleties and nuances are everything in my D/s world! For me there is so much about the feel, the touch, the look, the smell and the sounds. Very much like a padlock being closed or the click of a lock releasing…and in concert with the sting of a ‘Single Tail’ deliciously lessening on the cheeks of my ass or in the folds of my pussy. Best…lilly!

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Beautiful
 
LillianDevereux said:
Sir: Always great hearing back from you. First things first…”The man in your profile picture appeals, he is my type all the way!” Allow me to dream.

By now I am quite sure that you have seen a few of my ‘Nurse’ pictures posted here in the commentary section. Not all of my photos here are successful, but I wanted the descriptions describing the moment, my specific feelings and impressions of the times when the photo was taken. There is always something about my photos that pulls my memory vividly back to that first of many days. My pictures have my remembrances and events backtrack. Looking at them, images begin to appear slowly but with deliberate self-assertion as an image on a sheet of exposed photographic paper left unattended in a dilute developer solution. I love how vignetting tends to soften the borders of the subject--in this case adding a veil of romantic pretension to the edges of an otherwise sharp-edged tart. I like the idea of applying the concept of vignetting to memory: as details soften in the eddies of time. (Taylor Uzzell) I love posing for a camera; relishing being the center of attention of the zoom lens as it plays over the curves of my flesh. Like an objective observer in front of which I can explore various aspects of my masochistic fantasies.

YOUR PROFILE PICTURE: “Some days when I'm alone I spend time fantasizing about certain types of men. A man for all seasons accompanied with my never-ending hyper romantic fantasies. There is a photo of a MAN… that I taped to my makeup mirror. His ground is covered with dead leaves, an ursatz which heightens the romanticism of the image. I am trying to understand the other side of him, wanting to explore his extravagant and clandestine encounter in the baroque decadence of a château or the master bedroom of a private villa and with my red stiletto’s gleaming like lipstick. My emotions mix; visual imagery swirls. I am wearing a mask-my mask of pale, palest ivory and lips of red; my eyes expressionless behind their black kohl and the heavy flutter of my lashes. His face in the photo haunts me. Perhaps in another incarnation he will be on my side and holding me tight and safe. I masturbate in my apartment when I think of him.

I CAN FEEL HIM COME ALIVE WITHIN ME: In many different ways I strive to become his bitch and his love. My emotions wrench my subconscious. I notice some of his themes, the gesture of his hand; his Breitling chronograph, he wearing nice cuff links; a certain twist of his scarf. I wrote to Kelcie of my obsessions about him and she sends me even more photos that add to the heat of my special moments with him. To dream, itself Kelcie said, is to exaggerate.

AFTER ALL I WRITE TO EXORCISE MY DEMONS: Perhaps I should write a story about him bringing me closer to his existence? Continuity of the storyline is not important. What is important is placing words on a page. As long as I continue to write I will be ok. At least this is what I tell myself. I know that any segments of my story about him would be written out of order, because this is how I want to remember him. This is the order dictated by my fantasy about him. I close my eyes and the bits and pieces spin around me like pieces of a sensual puzzle. I grab a piece that whirls by and attempt to fit it into the larger picture. Sometimes I am successful; at other times the pieces lie mismatched, strewn about; shards of story, emotion, sight, scent jumbled willy-nilly.

I AM ENSNARED BY HIS BODY LANGUAGE SUFFOCATING ME WITH SUGGESTION: I am noticing the small details. Our nights and days and Veuve Clicquot. Being nervous with his arms around me. I want, but I am afraid of what I want and as his desires bringing him closer to me. He kisses me behind the ear, he lifts up my hair and kisses me on the neck, he putting his hands up under my dress and gently but possessively cupping my cunt. All this happens very quickly, I know it's him, though I can't see him. I don't mind, nor do I move, my eyes are closed. He softly squeezes my nipples; his hands playing me gently like an instrument. I dimly wonder how he knows where I liked to be touched, but I don't want to stop the moment. I am trying in pushing my thighs together, trapping his hand in my crotch. My thighs quivering as he forces his fingers into my slit and into the shrine that my wet lips guard. My pussy neatly trimmed and manicured and with just a thin almost perfect hairline running along my slit.

There is a violet scarf draped over the lampshade and our room is bathed in a soft suffocation of purple hues. Later his head is in my crotch, resting as our dreams in the few rays of moonlight catch our exhausted bodies. The glow from of the lampshade is a bright beacon illuminating the smeared red of my lips and my kohl that runs as black tears beneath my eyes lost in deep thought. I am telling him stories of other people and other places; of other rooms; of other nights; of other moonlit sex, and he is drinking my stories, thirsty for more images and emotions to quench the fire of my fantasies.

So for now and today I will keep on staring at his appended picture on my mirror, to feel what fantasy truly feels like. So please my dear Sir…stay in touch and in mind. Best…lilly!

The Pictures:

1. A vanilla moment alone. Dinner planned for two in my apartment. I am dressed in a simple Chanel dress. Later me prancing for him on my fantastic collection of designer 5-inch black leather ballet heels all about my polished parquet floor like a spastic flamenco dancer in heat, a painted puppet jerking and writhing; my hair thrown wild about my face. "It’s all For You" I whispered.

2. Just before jumping into my convertible for a Sunday drive. As always appropriately dressed of course.

3. All smiles: Afternoon delights. Special moments and indistinct teasing words. Playing around with my date. How do you want me? How may I please you? For him I simply wanted to be his picture perfect pinup princess. His rules were firm. Once his play and his desire had begun, it must be played through.



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Lovely
 
LillianDevereux said:
Thank you for your kind words and compliments. Waking-up on a Friday morning energizing oneself for the day or weekend ahead…does have a very familiar ring to it. As to the “inspiring word and images” my writing environment indeed is more often than not erotically atmospheric. For me to making my stories tick I need to work in a state of sexual arousal….which seems to escalate my writings more rich and deep and immersive. My anticipation building as layers and levels are stripped away. All radiant depravities: including spanking, whipping, service submission, orgasm control, bondage, primal play and magical aftercare.

My ‘Mirror’ reflections at times evoke a fairy tale feel… and reminding of ‘Alice Through the Looking Glass’ – which seems to fit well. I guess these feelings have always been there – demons hiding in the deeps. Wall to Wall mirrors one in front, one behind. My reflection bouncing back and forth between the opposing panes – reflections reflecting reflections – echoing off as reflections in my mind. In my needs! Best…lilly!

An Assortment of Pictures:

1. Standing Tall: For me there is nothing better in having him mounting me from behind, riding me like a bitch in heat, seeing his eyes and watching his play in the reflection of my 'wall-to-wall' mirror. Imagining what my pussy may offer? How his 'dressage whip' and its popper will feel in the folds of my cunt. Mirrored sex: the reflection of my breasts tightly bound and spilling over my underwired brassiere. His eyes infused with pure anticipation and demand. He makes the rules…and he’s very imaginative in the way he enforces them….a proper ‘Masterplan’ and I love playing my part in it. While at the same time witnessing my own eyes and face in the mirror' starting to look glazed and flushed with his sex deep inside me. My breathing was labored; it came out as a loud rhythmic panting. There was a steam locomotive between my legs. It puffed up the hilly expanse of my milky thighs--thighs like the cream that I suck from the coffee; the force of the engine pulsing and pushing over my hills; through my valleys. I closed my eyes and felt the force of the engine ram me to my very core. Then he finally mounting and slamming his engorged sex against the cheeks of my ass, for me like a sound of music and feeling his fantasy deep inside me.

2. His Aging Schoolgirl: Do you notice the small details? I was nervous going into the play with him. I want, but I am afraid of what I want. I was to be his virgin of the playground, his wet dream and his bondage fantasy submissive. His body language embracing me; rubbing hard against me and suffocating me with suggestion! I was drowning in the insistence of his need. I was ready for him in stroking and coaxing the melody from my taut body. Having me vibrate beneath his fingers and feeling his male heat searing the images of my most private thoughts. What can I say and our session hadn’t even started. But most important I was ready to explore every kinky fantasy he could ever imagine and so much more. That is what I do best!

3. The Table Dance: It always began with me giving him a fuck-dance just before our session had started. Today it was me on top of the table and to be on full display to satisfy his visual hunger. He was sitting back on the sofa his legs spread wide and jerking his Cock in my direction. Would I know how to perfectly walk and prance on the table in my 5-inch ankle strapped stilettos? What would my tits feel like when being man-handled by him? Would he appreciate my nipples to be rouged and augmented? How would I moan in delight when I was made to cum while being blindfolded? Or moaning for him like a bondage bitch when he would graze a vibrating dildo over the button of my sex before its insertion? How would his French kiss and his possessive lick on my face and cheeks feel? How would my mouth feel around his engorged Cock in deep-throat fashion and later the taste of his cum milked on my face and lips? So many questions! So much yet to be discovered and experienced!

4. A Weekend Afternoon: He wanted me wearing black FF nylons. His words: “I love how they frame your beautiful cunt and it makes my Cock hard.” Me sporting my obligatory fuck-me heels and a black half-cupped under wired bra. Never wearing panties and the mount of my naked cunt prominently communicating its instant availability. I also wanted to feel the 'pull of his leash' attached to my posture collar and being ordered to slowly crawling towards his standing Cock, my eyes never leaving its beautiful sight and my full lipsticked mouth half open in anticipation. Then he wanted me walking and prancing in front of my full-length mirror on my high heels all about the room, blatantly flashing my tits, ass and cunt. Telling him with dirty talk what my pussy needs, offering him my fuck and suck suggestions. After all I was there to please him. He smiled when I looked him straight in the eyes and he quite shamelessly absorbing and sucking-in my curves and the way I moved.

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Absolutely gorgeous and delicious
 
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