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The Steamy Phone Life of a Dirty Girl

Is that a pistol in your pocket?

Dirty Mari, Dirtiest Girl on LiveJournal



September 15th, 2007

My leather area rug


Finally here I am with a chance to once again blog my secret life. I moved this summer and my existence has been a tedium of packing, searching for new living quarters, moving heavy things, shopping for new stuff and reorganizing my life.  I've been on the phones and kinky as ever, just little time for the details such as updating my blog.

I have a spiffy new office in my new digs and have been decorating.  

My favorite find?

Check this out, a shag leather area rug http://www.homedecorators.com/P/Allover_Leather_Shag_Area_Rug/840/ 

Mine is in black of course, and soft as floggers, and bought on sale no less, and currently has a place of honor on the floor of my office. (I'm reaching over with a foot now and then to caress it as I compose this entry).  And last night it was properly broken in as my boyfriend pushed my face down into it, ass in the area and fucked me hard, my nose full of the heady smell of leather, and I was transported to my first dungeon experience. I grabbed the rug with my hands as he slammed in and out of me again and again. 

The space can only be described as shabby chic modern industrial leather.  Trancey music at a volume not nearly intense enough to disguise the moans of an orgasming women and the pleading cries of a man being energetically spanked with a wooden paddle.

I was mesmerized. I was changed forever. Before that evening ended, I found myself dancing on the end of a chain, leather cuffs around my wrists, my naked body viewed by a crowd that was part leering, part indifferent.  The man that put me there trailed a soft leather flogger slowly from the side of my neck over my body.  He grasped my hair, stretching my head back with erotic deliberation and bent to whisper in my ear.

"I'm going to use this leather flogger to make you cum" I was not only incredulous, but nervous. What was I thinking? Allowing this man with a whip to tie me up and torment me?  His demeaner seemed to harden after I was helpless and his voice seemed threatening, although his words were not particularly so.

Then he began raining light blows down on my back and I was delighted to feel the sensous kiss of the strands on my skin, like forty lovers.

He moved between my back and ass, slowly increasing the tempo and also gradually the intensity until they were thrilling, transcendent stings.  He paused to grope my slit, finding it slick and I moaned.  The blows began anew, very lightly this time, but insistent and steady on my pussy.  

"You're a needy slut, you can't hide the fact that you love being naked and used here. Helpless aren't you?"  He laughed and continued the tempo as my clit started to throb in a sensitive surge of both subtle pain and erotic response.   It's turning me on."  He paused to rub his trouser clad prick in the crack of my ass, proving his point indeed. 

He resumed the firm gentle strokes with the flogger . Occasionally a strand would hit full force on my clit and I would jump and cry out and climb closer to climax.   And finally when I did cum, it was hard and transforming. My knees trembled and my whole body spasmed and I became limp, hanging from the restraints, moaning in orgasm. He clutched me to his body as mine arched, then he lowered me to the dungeon floor, held me until I could speak again, then held me some more stroking my hair.  At that moment, I would have done anything, fucked him, blown him, whatever he wanted.  Instead, he brought me to the friends I came with and bade me farewell and told me I had done very well. He gave me the flogger, I have it to this day and I came to appreciate its value when I priced similar ones.  

It was a full year before I got to repay him with my body as he so deserved for helping me enter this wildly erotic world.

That rug makes me think of that evening.  That delicious leather smell keeps me wet.

March 17th, 2007

Ass Fucked

I have been amiss in posting, everyday life rearing it's busy self.

And everyday smut as well, rearing up to slam my ass.

And slam my ass indeed. Let's talk about anal. And why I just love it.

Doesn't it hurt?  Well....sometimes, but not much if properly lubed. (A good friend likes to quote "Too much lube is never enough")

That doesn't prevent me from enjoying an occasional violation of an un-lubed intruder.  A top I submit to regularly, enjoys occasionally pinning me down, on the edge of the bed, or draped over a bondage bed...and forcing his un-lubed cock into me.
It is excruciating the first few strokes, a edgy acute burning that usually makes my eyes water and occasional renders me into crying. It's the sobbing he seeks I think...for my uncontrolled crying makes my ass spasm around his cock, milking him while the tears stimulate the perverted sadist within.

And after a minute or two of pain, the endorphins take over and my body relaxes, and he can just pound away...until he is satisfied.

And I've been sodomized solely for the sick pleasure of another human being.  And the dirty girl within is reveling in the secret pleasure of it, and the truth of the matter, is after the painful spasms milk my partners cock...he is soon being stroked by my waves of orgasmic pleasure. I'm a dirty slut after all, getting off on forceful anal intrusion.

I think I need an anal booty call.

January 21st, 2007

(no subject)


For you the reader, my journal is the secret life. You won't read about my boring mundane life, the one we all have, the grocery shopping and work politics.  Be assured I have such a vanilla aspect to my life, family and friends and co-workers who would never suspect that I lead a double life, that I surround myself with leather and latex and plaited whips braided from kangaroo leather. 

When I disappear from work at lunchtime, my coworkers would be shocked to know that I am lunching with a submissive that I have wearing a buttplug as he fixes my plate at the buffett table.   They would never guess that I am sitting in my car in the parking garage describing to one of my phone submissives how I will tie him down and force him to suck my strap-on, while I am listening to him deepthroat a dildo until he is gagging, at my instructions of course.

My coworkers and family don't know that the necklace that I always wear around my neck is a vanilla disguised "collar" given to me by my Master.  They just think it is a gift of affection from him, and not the symbol of ownership that it is.

When I tell my coworkers about the cool stuff my best friend and I found at Macy's, I leave out the part about her plowing me with her red strapon dildo in the dressing room.

My life is blended with the erotic and the mundane...

When I grocery shop, I chat with my neighbor as I place my groceries in the trunk of my car, next to a leather satchel that contains floggers, leather cuffs and electro-torture toys.


There is a certain thrill to the casual everyday reminders I have around me all the time. On my keychain that I carry everywhere is a key to a chastity belt, a key to a lock that I use to lock my slave's collar, and a key to a friend's dungeon that I often use.  My cell phone is filled with telephone numbers of other kinky people.  My slaves. My Master. Other Femdoms I know. Sexual Freedom activists. A leather toy maker.   Those people have their own little secret lifes, with their own keys and cell phone numbers that are visible for the whole world.


So the next time you see a beautiful woman with a set of keys, take a minute and imagine what those keys unlock...or lock.

January 7th, 2007

Lust in the mall....

Finally the holidays are finally over and it's back to our erotically scheduled programming!

And time for the annual girl tradition. Return the gifts day....  This year was the inaugural event of what I hope will recur every year. My steamy yummy girl friend look-alike, Ashley and I journeyed to the mall, very early on a Tuesday morning, with hopes of having the place to ourselves to indulge in a girlish trying- on-of- hot -outfit ritual.

It turned into far more than that...her and I undressing and squeezing into tiny skirts and tight tops, the both of us together in a roomy changing stall fully equipped with a three paneled mirror.  Both of us small blonds, similar sized. Her skin a shade tanner than my fair porcelain skin.  The never-ending series of reflections of her tight body hugged only by the barest of pink panties was too much for me and  i found my hand reaching out, reaching out, reaching out toward a nipple. She noticed my hand extending in the mirror, and stopped, mesmerized by the reflected sight of my hand stretching out. I stopped. My hand just floated in midair in a moment of uncertainty.  Any doubt I had was erased when she reached and grasped my hand and brought it to her lips....engulfing my index finger with her petal soft lips, her tongue dancing unseen over the tip. 

I gasped, then we embraced, kissing fervently.

It should have not really been a surprise that Ashely was carrying a strap-on harness, equipped with a dildo in that bulky bag she favored.

It should have surprised me even less when she strapped it on, and I bent, with both hands on the mirror, as she plowed my cunt. 

As I crescendo-ed to delicious orgasm, there in the dressing room, our lust was witnessed by endless numbers of reflections from the three paneled mirror of other blond lookalike pairs, also copulating in a mad lesbian lust fuck, all with bright red dildos.

Our reflections were silent, but our moans vibrated the mirror glass.

December 26th, 2006

Teasing and denial...

Another fun phone game is wrapping your caller up in an erotic frolic of "tease and denial".

I like to do this when the caller tells me that he just likes to make beautiful women happy...

I accept the mission, then do all I can to make his dick hard....

Then I extract a promise while his dick is throbbing and probably dripping. It's very easy to extract a promise out of these guys when they are sprouting a raging woody.

The promise? No cumming unless I give him permission.

Then I make it my mission to keep him on the verge of orgasm, not letting him release, reminding him that its making me very very happy.  Relating all sorts of stories that slowly cause his steam to rise, I imagine his jism literally swelling up inside the shaft of his dick, and him using sheer willpower to keep it in his body.

Making him agree again how much he wants to make me happy.

And extracting yet another promise.

And on we go!  I love this game, and so must these guys, because they call me again and again.

December 19th, 2006

My latest obsession with my phone guys has been directed masturbation...

I love imagining in my head a hapless victim, a guy all restrained. Sitting in a simple wooden chair, hands tied firmly with rope behind his back.  Out. Of. Reach....

 And me, doing slow erotic teasing, just barely touching and teasing, my body sitting on his...my pussy just brushing the cock...my hands just running over his legs..his nipples...

And this is my inspiration for my guy...I direct him to touch himself as I would imagine it would feel to him.  He touches his cock and balls in ways that are foreign to him. Ways he never thought of touching himself. 

"Take your finger, and put it in your mouth and wet it....then place it at the base of your cock near your balls...then sllllllowllly run it up to the head"  My voice deep and sultry. "Imagine that's my tongue..."  Usually a moan comes from the other end of the line at this...

"Now take the tip of your finger and make circular motions around the tip of your cock,,,,come as close as you can but don't touch it!Now let it brush every so very lightly, like you're trying to get as close as you can without touching.  Let your body arch up to your hand, but pull your hand back...tease yourself.   Your hand is MY agent"

It doesn't take long before the guy is rock hard and leaking cum all over the place.  I reward him following directions by letting him jerk of as he wishes for twenty or thirty seconds.  "But NO cumming..."

Then we return to the slow relentless teasing again. Agonizing until he is begging for release.  That desperate begging tone that makes my cunt drip.

December 17th, 2006


Phone-wise, it was a weekend of long sexually charged conversations with new men.

One of the subjects discussed at great length was a sybian....and how my caller really wanted to see me on one....hands tied behind my back..me writhing as he adjusted the controls and had me helplessly cumming again and again. (Ironic this should cum up after a recently exchange with a reader about forced orgasms and the Venus, the male version of a Sybian....

I've actually never been on a sybian. (What ?? You gasp, something Mari hasn't done?).  My one chance was shattered when the fem-dom I accompanied to the party (where the sybian had a place of honor...), decided that it lacked sufficient sanitation to be safe....(After witnessing several women mounting it one after another...)

Myself, I was willing to wipe the damn thing down myself so I could sink my needy cunt unto one of those beautiful dick attachments, but she is rather anal about those things, and perhaps she is right. 

I want the experience, and not just for myself and a partner, I want it for a crowd. The exhibitionist in me wants people to gather round, as I start being machine fucked,  the perpetually hard dildo assaulting me; me placed helpless upon it.  In some versions of my fantasy, I am naked and vulnerable, save for the Japanese style bondage, complete with Hemp rope; yet in other versions I am as a rubber doll. Latex from head to toe, gagged with a wire dental gag that leaves my mouth gaping open, inflatable butt plug along with the sybian.

Never blindfolded, I can see the crowd....

Men and women in the crowd approach me, one at a time. Never touching me, but adjusting the Sybian controls to their own satisfaction, one at a time. 
I writhe on the unyielding cold invader...

An orgy erupts around me, a swirl of naked flesh and the smell of sex and musical moans. I am forgotten, still dancing on the pole- objectified.

A crescendo of orgasms from around the room, drowned out by my own feeble cries.  No one even notices, so absorbed in their own personal lust.

And then they slip out, two and three at a time. Ignoring my plaintive pleas to be released.

Until I am alone with the devil machine still raping my cunt.

Music to fuck by.

I've been exploring music today on www.pandora.com  an internet radio place that suggests new artists based on what you already like.....I'm digging it....anyway

A Nine-Inch-Nails song came up, and it reminded me of one of the most well-loved erotic memories of my life.

My Birthday Home Abduction:

My birthday present from my boyfriend and two friends with benefits.

They snuck in through the slider. (Home invaders don't use the fucking key they already have do they?)

I was home, because I was expecting my boyfriend, and I was all dressed up to go out, my hair french braided and everything.

Suddenly the three of them were there...in my bedroom and pushing me on the bed and stripping me....

Duct tape.
And they put NIN on my CD player and hit repeat on a certain song.......


And I was gang-banged in bondage as the voice of Trent Reznor singing "I want to fuck you like an animal"

December 16th, 2006


I am blessed to be multiorgasmic. 

Here is an exchange I had recently with a friend of mine while we were fucking.

Me:  Oh God...oh god....ohhhhh GOD OH FUCKING GOD. THANK YOU.

Him:  Don't thank God, thank me!

Me: I'm thanking him for making me wired like this!

Serioiusly, I have cum under the most unlikely circumstances.  I had a former boyfriend of mine, (who was dominant..), teach me to cum on command.  Yep, it can be done, and I will never fucking let anyone do it to me again, although it was very hot in the beginning. He would bark CUM!  Or he would snap his fingers, and I would just melt, my uterus spasming. Quite occasionally, if he caught be totally unaware, he would have to repeat the command, but the first one would prime it.

He conditioned me to cum to three things:  The sound of his voice in a certain timbre, the flick of a switchblade, and the snap of a finger. (It had to sound like his fingersnap though.)

Anyone who could get their finger snap rich and loud could make me cum involuntarily.  This is not as fun as it sounds. I had an occasion of cumming at a professional vanilla conference when the speaker snapped his fingers.  I am certain no one around me realized I was having an orgasm, but I wonder if anyone wondered why I had an odd look on my face and a total body shiver.
I do have this conditioning to thank for several orgasms in interesting locals.  On an airplane (a version of the mile high club?), on a rollercoaster, in line at the grocery store, while on the telephone with my mother!   It amused him to make me cum in all sorts of awkward situations.  

Eventually, we broke up, and the conditioning for the finger snap faded.  I still get aroused to this day though when someone snaps their fingers, even if I don't cum.

The last time I heard a switchblade flick near me, I dissolved.  The conditioning still worked after nearly three years. I don't hear it often enough to extinguish the active response.  

So you learned something about Dirty Mari tonight.  I cum at the sound of a switchblade near my ear.

My body was never the same afterwards though, and for this I am thankful.   I cum sooo easily now.  I sometimes cum from someone stroking my nipples.  Sometimes I can cum from them stroking my arm! (If I have still in a post-orgasmic glow it will bring me right back..)  I can cum during spankings. (YUM!) I can cum from inflicting pain, tapping into my inner sadist.  I can even cum from having my feet licked.

And while I'm being fucked, especially if its a guy with a big dick pounding me so hard he has hit bottom, with the tip of his prick assaulting my cervix, that will just put me into an orgasm that doesn't quit.  I will start having orgasm after orgasm, until they all blend into each other and I am having one solid orgasm that just doesn't quit until I am shaking and crying.

This side effect I have never been sorry for!

December 15th, 2006

(no subject)

I'm here, alone and there is silence for the time being, I will turn the radio on soon.

It's the waiting time.  Waiting for that phone to ring, and what will it bring? 

That is so much of the thrill. Even after 2 years of being a "phone sex fantasy" professional, my heart still jumps when the phone rings. And my pussy creams.

Attention. Attention where I get to fondle myself and whisper dirty things.  I wonder if I will be spanking myself or ordering the caller to suck my Mistress Dick.  Will I be moaning in orgasmic ecstasy? And I often do come for my caller, a breathless vulnerable moment, that leaves me panting and struggling to talk, as I feel as if I'm paid to keep talking.  Although I must confess that I suspect my callers are just as entertained by the breathy post-orgasmic can't talk yet moments I have.

And an interruption.

And I am back, this time with Dave Mathew Band "Crash" CD on to type by.  I just got off the phone with a regular caller of mine, one I have hooked because of who I represent to him. 

You see, we discovered I am fairly local to him, so I know he has fantasies of meeting me.   I am occasionally tempted to meet one of my regulars, (There is one lawyer from Pennsylvania I would meet in a heartbeat, because of the meeting of the minds we have had in our long contorted rich conversations...yet I digress)

This boy is begging to be my slave.  He claims that he lived in a cage of the basement of a female dominant for 8 months, and he just handed his paycheck over to her every week.  Apparently this arrangement ended when he lost his job, and had to move out.  I don't know if it is true or not, and it doesn't matter

The beauty of my job is that the only truth that matters is what turns the caller on. What makes him tick.

And this boy gets off thinking I'm taking advantage of him. So I have tasked him today to research boots for me. Tall elegant ones that are work-appropriate, and where they are.   Then I can go to the same store, try them on figure out if they fit, then make him buy me and send me a pair to my P.O. Box.   Then he gets rewarded by me "allowing" him to cum.

He got a lot of mileage of my description of making him bring me Chinese Takeout, and while I ate mine, I would mash his under my boot and make him lick it off the bottom of the new boots he bought me.

I wonder if those boots would forever smell like Moo Goo Gai Pan?
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