Mr. D's Sinful Sunday

  • February Photofest 2020,  Mr. D's Sinful Sunday,  Photography

    February Photofest Day 15/Sinful Sunday (by Mr. D)

    This year’s theme is “Close-Ups.” “The camera can represent flesh so superbly that, if I dared, I would never photograph a figure without asking that figure to take its clothes off.” – George Bernard Shaw Mr. D got in on the action today. It’s been awhile since I got to share his photographic perspective, but He rarely steers the camera wrong.

  • Mr. D's Sinful Sunday,  Photography

    A Proper Tit Drop

    Just recently, I sent my Husband a GIF of what I thought was a luscious tit drop. It’s one of the things I am supposed to do each week, per our D/s “rules”/agreement….send Him sexy photos or videos that I find while out perusing the internet. But when He saw it, He was less than impressed. He said that the drop was wrong…that there was no “slight panic” that she might or might not show you. She just went right on and let them drop, with no creation of tension. It’s not something I would have noticed. I’m not a “tit drop connoisseur.” But, apparently, my Husband is. So this…

  • Mr. D's Sinful Sunday,  Photography

    Iceberg

    “The mind is like an iceberg; it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.” Sigmund Freud This week, as usual, Mr. D was charged with coming up with a photo idea. He told me to make the bed, take off my clothes, and get him a bowl of ice cubes. My brain swam trying to figure out what he had up his sleeve, and even as I lay on the bed, the curtains open to let in the light of day, my head turned toward it…hearing the click of the camera shutter, I had no idea what he was creating. I giggled as he ran the ice cubes over…

  • Mr. D's Sinful Sunday,  Photography

    Neon Lights

    I had a hard time choosing a quote for this one…I found too many possibilities, but as Cohen is one of my favorite poets…let’s go with this one. “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” ― Leonard Cohen The backstory on this photo: Mr. D took an entire package of glow sticks and taped them to my body. It was actually are rather relaxing process for me, as all I had to do was lay on the bed and “be done to.” In fact, I nearly fell asleep. He took dozens of shots, practicing how to get the lights just right in the dark. I’m sure…

  • Mr. D's Sinful Sunday,  Photography

    Midnight at the Oasis

    Mr. D did not forget Sinful Sunday this week. And I’m pretty proud of His results, I have to say. The lighting for these was produced by a headlamp on my head (of all things) in a dark room. I guess when you are amateurs and do not have true photography equipment or a special room with special lighting, you do what you must to create certain effects. It did take a little photoshop-ing, as well. There Is A Budding Morrow In Midnight Christina Rossetti Wintry boughs against a wintry sky; Yet the sky is partly blue And the clouds are partly bright:– Who can tell but sap is mounting…

  • Mr. D's Sinful Sunday,  My EJC Responses,  Photography

    Learning to Fly

    I’m not a risk-taker. Although I’m sure lots of people might say that I am, especially after having read my blog for any amount of time. I guess it’s relative. But, in my bones…I know I don’t take chances. I hole up in the safety of what I know, and I panic when faced with newness and change. Eventually…and slowly…I might take a step or two forward. But still…unlike some who may see opportunity in chance, I see all the things that may go wrong…and I fixate on that rather than on the good that could come of it. Unlike some who may see adventure in change, I see fear.…

  • Fiction,  Mr. D's Sinful Sunday,  Photography

    Twilight is Watching

    “Have you ever fucked in public?” Walking home after last call, that time of early morning when it feels like the world is holding its breath, the silence is magnified, and I find my mind digging into deep corners it otherwise wouldn’t. “No.” Twilight was soft against the trees, making everything a sort of gray-ish purple. Even the graffiti seemed to blend into the concrete, saving up its color for an audience. ” I wanna fuck out here.” “Now?” His expression is only a little incredulous. “Yes.” “Where?” His eyebrows are raised just enough to show interest without judgement, yet still appear cautiously concerned. I scanned the landscape, my eyes…

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