Avi Kaplan – Bass Singer extraordinaire!

Everyone knows by now I appreciate singers who go that extra mile to delight their listeners with their voices. None is truer in that respect than Dimash Qudaibergen and for a while now I have struggled to find anyone who is even remotely comparable in vocal agility. Until I tripped across Avi Kaplan.

Avi Kaplan is a Bass vocalist who has an impressive 4.5 – 5 Octave range and his voice is so smooth and dark and rich that I could literally listen to him forever and never get over his voice.

The first time I heard him sing was when he did a guest performance of Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire with the incomparable vocal harmonies group, Home Free.

In this performance, Tim Foust (beautiful bass vocalist) of Home Free begins singing the song and Avi comes in with the second line, Austin Brown brings in that crystal clear tenor and then we are off and running with what can only be described as one of the best versions of this song I think I have ever heard, (and it’s been butchered by many for a very long time.) It is such a pleasure to hear it sung so beautifully and by so many talented individuals all in one place all at the same time!
As an aside, this post is going to be largely about Avi Kaplan but a huge acknowledgement of appreciation for the mega talented Home Free, their harmonies are so tight and on point they give you chills, Adam Rupp on the beatboxing sounds like a real drum kit! I will be covering this fabulous band in later posts but for now enjoy this brilliant version of Ring of Fire. (Oh and just for the record, Avi is my kind of man! His charisma leaps off the screen and drags you right in there with him!) You can see just how much he enjoys singing with these guys at the end with that beautiful smile.

So the next song I have posted here is Avi Kaplan – Change on the Rise. This is an absolutely stunning piece of work. I believe the backing vocalisation is also Avi and a layering effect of his voice has been used to provide the beat and percussion. I sat down to listen to this and was putting on basic makeup for the day, I ended up with a warrior streak down my cheek and I was ready to go into battle by the end of the song! So very powerful and inspiring!

In this next video, we hear Avi singing in a much gentler higher octave, but equally as rich in tone and emotion. The lyrics to this song reach inside me and take me on a journey into my own past and brings me back into the present with a smile on my face for the successful journey I have been on, for the realisation I won enough battles to win the war. A beautiful song written and sung by a superbly talented gentleman.

Avi Kaplan was the original Bass vocalist for the ACapella group Pentatonix. He left the group to pursue his own solo career and I for one am very glad he did. In my opinion his talent was stifled in Pentatonix, there are too many singers competing for centre stage and Avi was largely left sitting in the back singing the bass notes. He did get solo opportunities but they were few and far between.

As a solo artist he is finally able to show his full and impressive vocal range, performing the music he wants to be known for. Beautiful.

Avi Kaplan music and information can be found on his official website

www.avikaplanofficial.com

Or find him on YouTube under AviKaplanMusic

As always, I hope you enjoy this selection of music by some of the finest musicians out there today.

Dimash… Again…

This is Dimash paying homage to the iconic ancestors that have founded & shaped his beloved Kazakhstan. He released this video on the 30th anniversary of the nation’s independence. He has said repeatedly that he always thinks of the day that he himself will leave the stage & join the audience. And that he wants to keep his integrity until that day. Here he gives us a vision of that, integrated with the struggles of the past while looking at the hope of the future. I just have no words for this powerful piece of art. I know of no other up & coming superstar with this much wisdom, humility & self reflection.

Dimash is still quite young in the next video where he performs ‘The Crown’. But I just like this song. The word repeat pattern and flow is charming and draws you into the story.

I am aware this song was one I posted recently, but as with everything Dimash, it doesn’t matter, because his voice is worth listening to over and over.

As always if you wish to see more of Dimash take a quick trip over to YouTube and visit his official YouTube channel at: https://www.youtube.com/c/DimashQudaibergen_official

You won’t want to leave, I promise…

Some Positive News in Gem’s World

The breast cancer scare has been resolved and I have the all clear thankfully. The clinic I attended was full of women all with the same expression of terror in their eyes, all with the same fear and it was awful. I was desperate to be away from that reality and it cut into my psyche deeply. I was the only one on Monday out of 5 women who got the all clear. 4 women’s lives were devastated in the space of an hour. I didn’t feel like I had the right to celebrate my victory in that place, it would have been wrong. I have quietly rejoiced since, but still don’t feel right about doing that dance of freedom when so many others were struck down with it. I know, it’s something like a case of survivor’s guilt and I am sure I will come to terms with my gain and their loss soon enough. I don’t know those women, but that doesn’t make their devastation any less to me. We forged a silent bond in that room, we all quietly supported each other and talked of normal things and tried to hide our minds from the reality of why we were suddenly in each other’s company. 

I learnt an awful lot about a condition I don’t have (thankfully) in a very short space of time. What I learned most though, was how quickly your life can go from hero to zero in a heartbeat. I feel so fortunate to have come through this experience unscathed physically, but mentally it has definitely left its mark on me.

I just want to say to every woman out there, if you are offered the opportunity to have a mammogram, take it. It could save your life. The nurse who was dealing with my case said that 6 out of every 10 appointments they send out for breast cancer screenings are ignored. Women phone up and tell them they don’t need the appointment as they check their breasts for lumps and haven’t found any so they don’t need the screening.

That doesn’t even make sense to me. My own experience was a milk duct had twisted and folded in on itself and it showed up on the screening as a little lump behind the nipple. Had I not gone for the screening and subsequent tests, I personally would not have had a problem, given what it turned out to be, but, and this is the most important factor, it could have been the start of breast cancer and I would have missed an opportunity to have it dealt with swiftly. If diagnosed in time the rates of recovery from breast cancer are high. The medical advancements in breast cancer treatment we have available to us is so much more advanced these days, it seems foolish beyond measure to ignore those opportunities as they are presented to us, to keep ourselves healthy.

In other news, my heart monitor is full and isn’t working properly, my son has Covid as well as an ongoing kidney infection, my lover has had covid and it wiped the floor with him, he is still quite ill in the aftermath of it. My mum is doing okay but the Bell’s Palsy is causing her a great degree of pain and discomfort. My step dad is floundering under the weight of all of the worry and my best friend is finally getting her divorce hearing today after 4 years of her soon to be ex husband dragging things on and stalling, using delaying tactics and generally thumbing his nose at Judge’s orders and ignoring them. She is currently in the middle of her final hearing. I have absolutely everything crossed for her, her mental health is in complete crisis now, she also has to represent herself as a litigant in person because the soon to be ex has literally starved her of all funds and forced her onto benefits. She can no longer afford the legal fees for a Barrister or a solicitor.

Meanwhile, he owns and runs three businesses, which she worked at with him. He never paid her a wage, refusing because he said they had enough money coming in with just his wage and he would take care of the money and she should just take care of the family and work with him for the greater good of their future. When you have no private income of your own, you have no choices. She did this for 17 years in total. At the very least he owes her in excess of £100,000.00 in back pay! Everyone send positive vibes, thoughts, whatever, she truly needs them.

There is always someone worse off than yourself. I have lifted my head up this week and smiled properly for the first time in a long time. Here’s hoping it continues…

There is no good News Anywhere in Gem’s World.

My life has fallen to pieces in the past few weeks. If you read my previous post you know my Mum had a stroke and has been blighted by Bell’s Palsy. Her recovery has been greatly hampered by the fact that her ear is now very infected (apparently this can be a side effect of the Bell’s Palsy) and she is having violent headaches on top of everything else.

I am doing my best to shore her up but I have some serious health issues that have cropped up in my own life. My son has tested positive for Covid this week, on top of having a kidney infection from a kidney that only operates at 13% anyway. It is wreaking havoc with his whole system. He is struggling with his mental health as a result of constantly feeling ill, which is no surprise really. Who wouldn’t? His determination to always be positive no matter what, is crumbling around the edges. Currently his attitude is, ‘What’s the point? If I stay positive or feel shit, I’m just going to be ill again anyway. I may as well just sit here and vegetate. No hope is better than having hope taken away every time.’
I don’t know how to fight that, I don’t know how to help him. My heart hurts for him so bad right now, but there is absolutely nothing I can do to change his circumstances or his health.

My own health is suffering greatly, I am currently wearing a heart monitor after having some rather severe palpitations and chest pains, I have put them down to stress but the cardio people want readings for a month to see what is going on.

I went for my 5 year Breast test exam two weeks ago and this week I received a call back letter telling me they have to run more tests and they want me to be aware that the tests will take most of the afternoon to complete on the day of my appointment. That sounds really fucking scary quite frankly and I feel like I am staring down the barrel of the breast cancer gun right now and playing russian roulette with it.

Add to that my physical health is not the best, osteoarthritis has set in to most of my joints and my doctor is looking to see if there is any rheumatoid arthritis present as well. I already have gout, so if the rheumatoid arthritis shows up too then I have the hat trick of all three of them.

Tom had Covid and it wiped the floor with him, he is currently recovering 267 or so miles away but he is not fit to travel and come home.

My whole family is ill, my own health is a huge question mark right now and I can’t see a bright spot anywhere. I’m going on the silent list for the foreseeable. I highly doubt that, unless there is some good news, I will be posting anything at all.

Stay well people, look after each other and be kind to those who are struggling, I will return when I have some positive news to share.

Gem’s World, an Update

Hello my lovely peoples, I hope life is treating you kindly.

This is not a happy post, nor will it be a long one. I am exhausted by recent events within my small family unit and there is no let up of the pressures on the horizon.

It’s all a mess. It’s downright scary as all get out and for the first time in my life I am actually scared witless that my Mum isn’t going to be around for much longer.

My beautiful, lively and amazingly spritely 81 year old Mum had a stroke on 25th February which has left her with a loss of sight in her left eye, her speech is badly affected and her left side is very weak. Her recovery has been greatly hampered by the unwelcome arrival of Bell’s Palsy, which has managed to confuse what was a definitive stroke diagnosis. Now the new doctors she is seeing are scratching their heads and wondering on one day if she has had a stroke, and then on another day, whether it’s bell’s palsy, to yet another where they are saying she has had a stroke and has bell’s palsy. I would just like a definitive diagnosis because if it’s just bell’s palsy, she is winning in spades. It is a benign condition that while it looks scary because it mimics the symptoms of a stroke, it is actually nothing to be overly concerned about, there is no real understanding of what causes it, it can just come on for no reason other than it arrives and it can take anything from a few weeks to months to years or never to recover from the facial drop it causes.

Obviously if it is a stroke as first diagnosed, then she could be in a world of trouble. Her age is against her, her general health is against her and she could be left severely handicapped from the symptoms.

I took her to the opthalmist today to find out how badly affected her left eye is, and he can’t tell us because he can’t see behind the eye because of the ointment they are giving her to use on it to stop it from drying out, Her eyelid won’t close at all. The problem is further exacerbated by the cataracts that have appeared almost overnight in both eyes. He will have to wait until she has at least finished the course of treatment with the eye ointment before he can see behind that eye.

My Mum also has a three line pacemaker fitted that has recently started to play up. She had her battery checked the week before her stroke hit and they said she needed it replacing as soon as possible because it was coming to the end of its life. They can’t change it now due to the complications of the stroke.

I probably won’t be around much, I am struggling to run two homes and my Mum’s business, not to mention my own life. I haven’t looked at that in a while but it isn’t in good shape either. Nothing too scary there just a great deal of neglect on my part, I shall get to it all eventually.

Stay well people and I will return eventually with new updates when I can. I might even get on top of everything and have it all running more normally in a few weeks when life settles down a little more. If that happens, I promise you, you will be reading new work from me. I need to lose myself in some fiction for a while, real life is just too damned painful to deal with constantly.

Bye for now …. Gem xx

Angelina Jordan

A Tiny Singing Phenomenon!

Remember this song anyone? Cher sang it in 1966, it was written by her then husband Sonny Bono and released as an album song. I never gave it much credence as a folk/blues song until very recently when I happened upon a 7 year old Angelina Jordan who sang it as one of her contest round songs on Norway’s got Talent, Norway really does have talent, this young lady is phenomenal both at 7 and at 16 when she covers Adele’s Easy on Me.

She’s SEVEN years old People! SEVEN!

So this young lady won Norway’s got Talent at the tender age of 7. It’s not hard to see why. A child prodigy, yes, but not just any cute little 7 year old can take on the old classic blues/jazz songs and sing the hell out of them! Her repertoire is extensive and covers a number of different genres.

In this video, she is just 16 years of age and singing a cover of Adele’s ‘Go easy on me.’ Now far be it from me to say anything controversial about Adele or her undoubted talent, but I have to say, I prefer the warmer tones of Angelina over the sharp clarity of Adele’s tone in this song. Don’t shoot me, it’s a personal preference and I adore Adele and respect her ability to write some absolutely stunning songs, but Angelina has a softer, more rounded vocalisation that just makes my ears sing.

Hope you enjoy these two offerings from a very talented young lady who just keeps getting better.

Seconds away… Round 2.

How many people did I manage to piss off royally with my previous post! Wow! Many apparently.

So, I have received emails from a good number of people complaining about my attitude towards ‘key’ workers. Namely, assistant district nurses, assistant pharmacists and childish doctor’s receptionists.

Now, ask me if I give a right royal fuck whether I have offended anyone at all?

If you correctly guessed my answer is ‘Seriously? I couldn’t give a flying fuck for any one taking offence at my personal opinion of the people I have to deal with. Your sensibilities are yours to look after. I have enough to do.’ Then have a gold star and go to the top of the class.

I refuse to apologise for people being offended by me about what I have to say. I think I was pretty much on it in my post yesterday, it was crystal clear to me at least, why I was so fucked off with this particular set of workers. What I will say is this, there is no room for stupidity, ignorance or arrogance when people work in the medical field, in whatever role they play. They are dealing with people’s health and wellbeing. The onus is on those workers to do their jobs properly, it is what they signed up to do after all, so that the health and mental wellbeing of those vulnerable people they are dealing with, is not made worse by their lack of due diligence in their work.

So, don’t complain to me about my shitty attitude, I’ve earned it. I am owning it, and I will continue to own it for the foreseeable future. I’ve literally battled for 32 years fighting for my son to get him the help and care he needs to be able to live as normal a life as possible. In the last ten years or so, that help and care has all but disappeared down the pan along with common sense and logic. Everyone thinks they can cut costs on medication by using the cheaper version, on dressings by providing the cheaper ones, the logic being, you can have more that way.
I am here to tell you that is bollocks. I am currently managing a pressure sore that has developed because my son has little or no sensation from the waist down. If I follow the rule that the district nurse knows best, we will be dealing with this sore forever and I am not exaggerating.

So, I don’t follow their rules, I follow my own rules, carved out over that 32 years of caring. I sourced the best possible cream that will actually heal the sore inside of 8 weeks. I know it works, I’ve used it many times on many different sores. It’s expensive, but it works. My GP approves the repeat prescription. He sees the logic and agrees with me.

Is it more expensive than 6 to 10 months supply of dressings and de-sloughing materials, less capable creams and lotions? No. It’s a damn sight cheaper in the long run. So I strongly object when a trainee district nurse comes to my house and informs me yet again, that I should stop using the cream that works, because she has been given a much better one that we must try and it’s a lot cheaper. When I ask her what it is, she provides a sample tube. I open my medicine cupboard and point to the 10 or so tubes of her cream that have been duly tried and which have duly failed to do the job at hand. Now shoot me if you want, but the ONLY thing I’m interested in at any point is the best interests of my son’s health and hopefully a speedy return to good health. And, just in case you are in any doubt at all, it is me personally who cleans and dresses this and every other pressure sore my son has ever had since he turned 13. Because in the past, we have allowed District nurses to come in and take care of them and a whole host of shit has gone down that didn’t need to, on one occasion culminating in my son spending 17 weeks in an isolation unit in hospital when he was 13 years old. Since then, I do it myself.

Do I care if the nurses are upset at my refusal to use their ‘tried and tested methods’? No. Do I worry that they won’t be there to ‘help’ me in the future? No. Why? Because I don’t need them. They insist on inserting themselves into our lives, so out of respect for the few that do know what they’re about, I allow them in, I tell them categorically, they can come, observe proceedings, cast a critical eye over those proceedings and then they can leave. If that offends them, I don’t care. I am way past answering to them.

When people get their jobs right and do it properly, I praise them to the roof tops, I thank them profusely, and I have even, on a rare occasion, written an email to their boss singing their praises. Why? Because they didn’t add to the problems, they created workable solutions and were polite and professional, but more importantly they were efficient and showed competence in their abilities.

Now, I really don’t care if I sound like I’m a know all who is too big for her boots, as one person succinctly put it, I don’t care if you think I am rude and arrogant and out of order. I couldn’t give a shit if you think I am too anything quite frankly. You don’t live in my world, you don’t live my life and you don’t deal with the myriad of problems I deal with on a daily, minute by minute basis. Most of those problems are health based and need an immediate and cohesive action to prevent them from becoming major health issues.

As an added extra bonus, hands up in the crowd all those of you who are living with or live with someone or know someone who is living with epilepsy. Now, how many people have seen a loved one have a fit or a seizure for no other reason than because they were taking a generic brand of epilepsy medication instead of the named brand which works. Had that switch not been made, it’s pretty much a given that the fit or seizure would not have happened. So, switching to cheaper brands makes sick people sicker but at least they saved some fucking money. Whoopee!

I could go on and on and on… I believe I have already said enough to make my point.

Don’t tell me I’m rude, instead, you could just acknowledge that I have the right to my own opinion, broadcast on my own web page, about my own personal situation. No naming and shaming goes on, just a broad sweep of general weariness and frustration and unmitigated anger aimed at the particular group of people I have to deal with.

You could also acknowledge that I shouldn’t have to be the one who has no choice but to do their jobs for them because they continually prove they can’t do it properly themselves. In an ideal world every person who ever donned a medical uniform would be the absolute best at what they do. Sadly, that is so far away from the truth it’s frankly frightening.

I am not saying, nor have I ever even hinted that I view every single person who works in health care this way. I deal with a lot of fantastic, professional, forward thinking people who have made a huge difference to us. I thank them for always doing their job properly. I thank them for their due diligence. It makes my son’s life (and therefore my life) workable.

I hope this clears up any misconception that I might give a rats arse about people being offended by me.

Wow!

Gemma’s World is exploding! (and not in a good way) 😡🤯

So, the last time I was able to sit down and actually write something useful, was roughly this time last week I think. Since then, a whole shitstorm of stupidity, incompetence and arrogant fuckwittery has landed in my world and I really would like them all to just fuck right off now thank you very much.

I am sick and tired of having to wait for other people to do the job they are paid to do, properly and on time, so that my son’s life (and therefore my life) can run smoothly. I am sick and tired of having to explain my reasons for wanting them to do their jobs properly. I am sick and tired of dealing with arrogant imbeciles who have only been alive 19 years looking down their orange noses at me and thinking that because they are a fucking doctor’s receptionist or District Nurse trainee, or pharmacy assistant that they know more than I do!

They Don’t! Plain and fucking simple, I have been doing this shit for 32 years in March and let me tell you, there is very little by the way of stones left unturned in my world to better aid my ability to do what I have to do on a daily basis. I do not for one moment resent the things I have to do, I do them because I love my son, I love my mam, I love my step-dad, they are my people and I am their go to for everything and anything including a blocked kitchen sink. I have no problem with the workload, I accept it as part and parcel of my daily life and I get on with it.

What I do resent is some kid in a grown up’s uniform thinking they can tell me they have reinvented the fucking wheel and actually their version works better than the original. It doesn’t, do you know why I know it doesn’t? Because their theory has already been tried and tested and failed miserably on many fronts, many times before they even came into the fucking world. One size medicine does not fit ALL for fucks sake.

So, I could elaborate and give you all details, there is little point, the list is long and boring and quite frankly endless and I might actually pop and go postal if I see the list of stupid comments, actions, inaction, incompetence and arrogant ignorance in writing. Instead here is a brief and incomplete précis of my current week.

Right now I want to physically do someone some harm for the shitstorm that has been caused in my house with my son’s mental health and wellbeing because of their stupid actions and comments. It has caused him to lose the plot somewhat and declare he is so sick of being disabled and forced to be at the mercy of these imbeciles constantly and he has had a right royal fucking meltdown.

I have fixed him, again, I have straightened his head out on the whole subject of his disability and how he feels about it, again. I have moved mountains and buried bodies in order to help him back to his normal happy countenance but it has been very hard and I am officially fucking exhausted mentally and emotionally. All of this has happened because District nurses don’t pay attention to what they have been instructed to do, what the rules of my house are, how they deal with my son, how they don’t come in and demand and order and expect to find they have seniority in my household. They fucking don’t. They are annoying blips on the radar of life that occasionally have something useful to offer albeit a rarity.

Doctor’s receptionists need to learn they do not have the right to know the ins and outs of the cats arse before they do the job they are paid to fucking do and that is transfer my call to a doctor, or make an appointment for me. They are not medically fucking trained nor do they have letters after their fucking name that declare them part of the medical profession, and therefore do not have the right to know private and confidential medical information about my son before they decide who I should be speaking to. I know who I should be speaking to, he’s called DOCTOR, he studied for a long time to be allowed to use that title. He did not come up through the fucking secretarial/receptionist rank and file. Jesus I will literally do someone some harm if this shit keeps coming at me.

Pharmacists assistants who believe (wrongly of course) they have the right to change a named epilepsy medication for a non branded generic version. NO THEY FUCKING DON’T HAVE THAT RIGHT!

This will be the fourth time in the last 12 months I have had to go back to the pharmacy and demand the proper scripted medication listed on my son’s prescription. Each time I have been told the generic version of the medication is identical to the named version. No it isn’t. There is a reason the generic version is so fucking cheap by comparison, it doesn’t fucking work even a quarter as well as the branded version which uses quality ingredients that actually do what they are supposed to do and stop fits and seizures from happening. Guess what the fucking generic version doesn’t do? That’s right, it doesn’t stop fits and seizures. I might as well give him fucking sugar tablets to take for all the good the generic version does. I am sick and tired of having to explain this each and every time to a silly fucking assistant who thinks they are more qualified than I am to make that decision. The only way to get through to them is to ask them when they qualified as epilepsy specialist nurses? Four assistants, four times asking the question, four times they confess to being dumber than shit for thinking they can do the same job as an epilepsy specialist nurse. If she is demanding that my son has the branded version of the medication, then she is demanding that for a fucking good reason, its because she knows the branded version will do the job of controlling his fits and seizures properly, and in turn allow him to live as normal a life as possible under the cirmumstances.

I am just fucking sick and tired of the long and arduous task of never being allowed to be off duty, or letting the ball land where it may in case it pops and everything explodes with it. I am tired of all of it.

Rant over… for now.

On Your Knees

Can you believe that was what he said to me? I mean, I didn’t even know the man and there he was demanding I get on my knees for him! Who the hell did he think he was?

Well, actually, he thought he was a bank robber, black mask, gun, black leather jacket, baggy ass jeans, oh yes he was dressed for the role, he must have felt invincible in that moment when he ordered me, a tiny 38 year old woman to drop to her knees. How powerful was he in that second?

Umm, not. I decided the boy in the mask needed a lesson in instruction giving. He needed to be clearer in my opinion, I mean, it’s one thing to shout ‘on your knees!’ but it’s quite another to have that instruction completely understood without any other thoughts creeping in to muddy the waters.

You see, he smelled very clean. He didn’t smell the way I expected a bank robber to smell, all grimy and sweaty and such. This boy smelled… clean! Lemony fresh, I love a hint of citrus, it has that little after bite that zings your senses when you least expect it. It is such a turn on…. not to mention, I hear those words and all I can think of is I get to suck cock! I confess I’m a cock slut and proud of it.

I took a single step forward and dropped to my knees directly in front of him. Without a seconds thought, I reached for his jeans and gave them a hefty tug, of course, his shorts came down with his jeans! These crass young men that insist on showing their shorts and fasten the waist of their jeans around the hips, well… they can’t really expect anything else can they?

After I tugged I immediately reached for his cock and gave it a little pet, a couple of strokes, a little kiss right on the tip, all the while batting away his hands as he tried and failed to remove me from his growing appendage. Finally in a bid to pull me off him he grabbed a handful of my hair as my mouth sank down the full length of his cock to the base, and that was when I knew he’d forgotten why he was there. His hand came to rest on the back of my head and instead of yanking me off him, he cupped my head and pressed me further down on his lovely hard rod and then I sucked, and he groaned and I had him right where I wanted him. I wrapped my tongue around the length of him, tasting him, sucking his now fully erect and throbbing cock all the way to the back of my throat and I fucked that cock with my mouth. His hand gripped my head tighter, I reached my hand up and removed the gun from the limp fingers of his other hand and tucked it into the back of my jeans waistband and all the while, I continued to worship that long, slim cock, with a huge head… what he lacked in girth on his shaft he made up for with a fat mushroom of a head and I adored the feel of it as it popped every time I slid it in and out of my mouth. Saliva covered every inch of his shaft and I smiled as I noted that saliva sat at the base too. I did so enjoy a good cock worshipping session. The fact that it was in the middle of the bank in the middle of the afternoon of a very busy workday, was to be honest, irrelevant. I figured I was saving lives at this point. I was performing a public service.

I continued to suck deeply and pull on that young man’s rigid manhood as he now grabbed handfuls of my hair with both hands and thrust his hips forcefully against my face and I relished the challenge. I relaxed my throat so he could pump deeper and harder, he drove himself in faster, and I sucked and moaned and wrapped my tongue around that large mushroom head and grazed my teeth gently over its super fine ribbing, precum oozed and I heard someone moan loudly behind me, I wondered whether they were getting it on too, I hoped so, it sure as hell beat getting shot in a bank robbery!

He pumped harder and faster and I knew he was getting ready to unload his cream deep in my mouth and I worked him harder. The police sirens could be heard in the distance and were getting closer, I reached under his balls and ran my finger around his ass hole, he bucked I sucked and sank my finger in just on the rim, and he bucked harder, I sucked harder, his legs trembled his hands tightened their grip and he bucked and fucked my mouth for all he was worth, suddenly he froze as his cum spurted great jets of creamy liquid down my throat and I pulled back and allowed it to drip down my chin as I kept my mouth open and caught his creamy deposit on my tongue. I swallowed and smiled, I leaned down and pulled up his jeans, (all the way up, no half mast baggy ass this time!) I stood up and took off his mask and told him to stand still and not make a sound when the police came through the door.

He looked totally shocked, wiped out, obviously, I’m very good at cock worshipping, but the dazed young man did as he was told and kept completely quiet when the police burst through the door.

They stopped short as they scanned the big room for signs of an armed robbery, but of course, there wasn’t one. Just a handful of people going about their business looking slightly flustered and dishevelled in their dress, but other than that nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

The lead policeman wobbled over to the bank teller’s desk and his counterparts followed. As they approached the teller I took my opportunity to guide the would be robber out of the bank slightly ahead of me, but I made sure to hold onto his arm as we walked at a leisurely pace out of the door and down the road.

At the end of the street I tugged him around the corner and into an alleyway. ‘Now then young man, you have a rather gorgeous cock and I would like some more of it please, but this time, we shall perhaps do it without the audience! Come on, I only live down the block, and I have a king sized bed that needs christening. I haven’t had a good fuck in months!’

With that, I dragged my would be bank robber along the road until we came to my apartment building. Ten minutes later I had dispensed with our clothing and he was willingly allowing me to handcuff him. Obviously he thought he was in for a kinky sex session, but I don’t think he expected it to start with a sound over the knee spanking!

I was still quite cross with him for messing up my day, I had intended on withdrawing a large amount of money from my account today and he had messed up all of my plans. That alone was worthy of a spanking! Not to mention, he had waved a gun in my face! On closer inspection of said gun, it turned out to be a replica, completely harmless but looked the part. He wasn’t even a proper armed robber. Seriously, he was coming across as quite pathetic now, and my dander was definitely up. I grabbed the cuffs around his wrists and pulled him unceremoniously down across my lap. His cute little ass, all creamy and smooth was positioned perfectly in the centre of my lap and I rained down a good dozen very hard hand spanks across both of those pretty cream cheeks. It wasn’t long before he was wriggling and complaining about the heat in his bottom, so I delivered a good dozen more! My hand started to ache and burn and I leaned across to the bedside table and picked up my lovely hard backed wooden hairbrush, about the size of a small paddle it was perfect for the job at hand. I wanted to hear him howl!

Oh how he did howl, he squirmed on my lap as those spanks came down across both cheeks and turned his creamy thighs cherry red to match his lovely glowing bottom. Eventually I heard his wail as he began to sob and squeal and all he kept saying was ‘please missus, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m SORRYYYYY!!!’ Oh dear, was that a genuine apology and real remorse I could hear? Who knows? He was crying so hard it was difficult to tell! Regardless, I continued spanking first one cheek then the other, then his thighs until I felt his rigid cock soaking my thighs with his precum. My goodness me, what a big boy he was! I confess, around this time I became distracted by his cock and decided his spanking had gone on long enough, I had many plans for this young man this afternoon and this evening too. I might let him go tomorrow when I return to the bank for my funds… It depends how much fun I’m having.
I tapped the sobbing young man on his shoulder, ‘get up and lie on your back on the bed.’ I ordered him. He quickly scrambled to his feet and looked like he was ready to bolt, so I pushed him over and down he went, legs spread eagled on the bed and I quickly made sure he was securely bound. After all, he could be dangerous…

So, there he lay, bound up and spreadeagled on my king sized bed. It was time for some fun so I blindfold and gagged him too. Well, I figured he was into role play, given his penchant for dressing up like a bank robber. He did look quite funny all red eyed and runny nosed, (I took a tissue and wiped his nose for him, it wasn’t pleasant for me to look at) with his cock standing fully to attention like a good little soldier. Well, it was too much of an invitation for me to refuse and I quickly straddled his thighs, the fat tip of his mushroom head rubbing against my now very wet pussy. I teased him a little, lowering myself onto the tip, just allowing it to sit inside the edges of my pussy, never lowering just popping in and out, in and out until he began bucking up and thrusting his hips trying to shove his cock inside my moist warm pussy.
Well, it wasn’t like I wasn’t up for it was it? I lowered myself down onto his shaft and leaned forward to tweak his erect little nipples hard, he squealed, I squeezed my pussy walls around his cock and he groaned loudly and began to thrust and pump up into my delightfully hot and wet snatch until I was riding that cock like my life depended on it. There is something to be said for a fat cock head, you can feel it all the way up inside you as it fills you. Oh my, my first orgasm was rushing to meet that mushroom head, I rode harder and faster, tweaked his nipple with one hand, then leaned behind me and cupped his very large heavy balls with the other. He bucked harder, groaning around the ball gag, panting for breath, moaning deeply, and I ground down on his rock hard cock and squeezed those walls tightly as I pulled back up. My god this was the ride of my life and I was loving every minute of it.

I climbed off him quickly and turned around, remounting his cock but now I could play easily with his balls. Jesus they were big… and heavy too. I wet my index finger and allowed it to probe his ass hole just a little, he whimpered and began bucking like a horse, oh yes, this was definitely the way to go with the bank robber wannabee. He liked having his hole played with, so I played a little more, and then as is the way of these things, I decided I like to have my ass filled and played with too! I slid him out of my pussy and positioned him at the edge of my tight little rosebud hole. That mushroom felt amazing as it stretched me wide and then tunneled deeply inside my ass, I came… so damned hard I screamed and I rode him like a bucking bronco, until I felt the telltale tremble in his legs, as he strained and shot his creamy load deep inside my ass, pumping spurt after spurt of hot cum so deep I felt it warm my insides! Oh my goodness, 20 something wannabee bank robbers are definitely the way to go for multiple orgasms! I think I may keep him here a few days more yet….

As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end and I did eventually let him leave. All I had to do in the end was release him and give him his clothing back. I had hidden it so he wouldn’t be inclined to just run off as soon as he was released to go to the bathroom. To be fair, he couldn’t have gone far, he was fastened on a long leash to the gorgeous black leather collar I had locked around his neck. His chain was just long enough to allow him to go pee and wash up. I even provided him with some lemon scented soap, just so I could keep inhaling that lovely clean smell.

In the end I let him go, his constant whining every time I spanked him was getting on my nerves. They just don’t make bank robbers like they used to… but what a cock…. oh and an ass just made for spanking … yum. I really did have the most fabulous time… I don’t think he will be robbing anyone any time soon though, I think he may have learned his lesson.

I guess the moral of this story is, if you’re planning on robbing a bank at gunpoint, be careful who you say ‘On your Knees’ to. It might be me who turns around…

Top Hat & Tails (Part 8)

The Escape Room (Part 4)

The buzzer sounded again, ‘Voyeurs 4, 5, 6 here, you are in a world of trouble girl. We are going to fuck you so hard you will lose your mind not just the game. Stand in the centre of the room and put on your blindfold.’ …

Elle looked panic stricken as she did as she was instructed and pulled on her blindfold. She heard the door open and footsteps approach her slowly, her heart pounded in her chest and she began to tremble as she waited, and waited for the first touch.

She was so far away from an orgasm now that the thought was the last thing on her mind. That bastard voyeur had succeeded in climbing inside her head. There was no way she was going to allow anyone to fuck her, she would take the machine all day long, but she could not tolerate the idea of a man other than Thorn laying their hands on her. No way was she giving her body to a stranger for the sake of a game. Her safe word was on the tip of her tongue. Her panic was real as she heard the door open again and more footsteps, lighter and quicker than the last set. She heard things being moved around, she felt her chain being tugged slowly and then she heard a machine whirring in the background and felt herself being pulled across the room slowly.

She was being dragged into the cage! If she got stuck in there with whoever was in the room with her, there was no way out! Her breathing became laboured and sweat popped and beaded on her forehead. Her hands felt clammy and moist, and then she felt a finger tap her twice on her cheek, her breathing was coming short and fast and her heart was doing double time but when the tap came twice on her other cheek it sank in who was in the room with her. Thorn.

She began to relax slowly, until just her trembling remained. She felt strong hands on her arms as she was led into the cage and pushed down to her knees. Her hands were pulled behind her and held there, her chain attached to her collar had very little slack left in it, and she felt the panic well up in her again at her predicament. She knew if she spoke no one would answer and it could bring about a series of reactions from the voyeurs that she really didn’t need, so wisely, she kept silent.

She heard a piece of furniture being dragged across the floor and as the noise stopped she was pushed forward until her neck rested on a block.

Oh fuck! The stocks! She had seen them earlier but had paid them little mind at all as everyone else appeared to have either forgotten them or was wilfully ignoring them. She felt a smaller pair of hands tap her legs and spread them wider, then the cuffs went on her ankles and she was truly trapped. The smaller hands released her wrists only long enough to place her hands in the wells for the stocks and then the bar came down and she was locked in tight. Her only solace at this point was that she knew Thorn was in there with her and he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

She was sure it was Thorn, even though he hadn’t touched her since the taps to her cheek, there was a calmness in the room that she had connected to, it could only be Thorn. It had to be…

A niggling doubt ate at the back of her mind, what if that signal he used was one they all used when they had played enough and it was time to make their prey submit? What if it was someone else that only worked this room? What if it was a voyeur?

No. It couldn’t be, they look, they don’t touch! They’re watchers not doers. That is their thing. She began to breathe easier again as she reasoned out why it could only be Thorn. Until she felt a mouth attach itself to her pussy!

Her whole body jumped at the contact, and a long low moan escaped her as the tongue went to work on her over sensitised clit. Her clamp was swiftly removed and the exquisite pain was almost her undoing, coupled with that tongue dancing along her labia and sucking at her clit hard then soft, then flicking, then fingers joined in, small female fingers, she was sure, slid inside her pussy and pulled the ben wa balls out of her one at a time, making sure they chimed heavily on their exit. The vibrations rang all the way through her body and she cried out in dismay as she felt her mind losing control over her orgasm that was now rushing back up to the surface with a vengeance. My god she was a fucking slut! Her humiliation at her own behaviour devoured her mind and filled her with shame at her blatant wantonness. every part of her skin prickled with the shame.

Elle felt her focus drifting, despite her humiliation and shame, her concentration on not coming was being sorely tested as she became lost in the amazing feelings coursing through her pussy and clit courtesy of the attention it was receiving, it wasn’t rough or heavy, just a light touch, fingers sinking into her very wet pussy and bending up and stroking her g-spot languidly, lazy circles from tiny fingers, fingers that Elle was entranced with and knew very well. It was Annalise, Thorn’s club sub, tiny little Annalise who was exquisite to look at in every way. Annalise, who Thorn had instructed to play with Elle whenever he was working. Her own personal little blonde doll. She had been a constant in the Toy Room from day one and the two women had become very close. Thorn had maximised on that closeness and introduced her into their lives on a once a week basis. He fed all aspects of Elle’s needs and she revelled in it.

Her thoughts scattered and there was no more time to think or reflect as she felt the tip of his cock press against her mouth. Regardless of her predicament and her absolute sureness it was Thorn, she resisted. She really didn’t trust her own instincts right now. What if it wasn’t Annalise? If it wasn’t her, then this might not be Thorn. How could she open her mouth without thought for the consequences if it wasn’t him? She twisted her head away from the probing cock and he stilled her with a tight hold of a handful of her hair, pulling her head up and applying pressure to her jaw making her mouth open wide for him.

Sobbing she accepted the thrust of his large cock deep into her mouth and closed her lips around his throbbing shaft. Then she knew without doubt, this was Thorn. She wrapped her tongue around his thickness and traced the raised veins and ridges that were indelibly imprinted in her mind. She sucked him in and worshipped his cock expertly. Behind her, little fingers began to pinch and nip at her clit, as a tongue thrust deeply inside her pussy, as lips closed around her and sucked her labia making a popping sound as they disconnected only to come back and do it all again.

Elle groaned heavily, she was going to be stuck in this damned room forever, she had never had both of them at the same time before and it was blowing her mind. Her orgasm was rampaging through her and she knew it would erupt from her the instant he came in her mouth. If she tasted his cum she was done for.

He gripped her head tightly and fucked her mouth forcefully, accompanied by screams and jeers from the voyeurs, grunts and groans filled the room as they wanked themselves into a frenzy of orgasms. It sounded like an orgy had erupted into the room. They had left the microphone switched on and she could hear their heavy breathing and moans and groans like they were stood next to her.

She began to wonder if they had come into the room and were stood around her. Her mind spiralled at the thought as it tripped into a different realm. What if they covered her with their cum? She recoiled from the idea. He fucked her harder, she sucked her more deeply, Elle’s orgasm rolled through her right to the very edge of her sanity.

Suddenly they both stopped in unison and she was left bereft, hanging there in the stocks, exposed to everyone who wanted to look, her juices mingled with the saliva of her little doll, her mouth hanging open, drool dripping from the abuse of his cock, her orgasm frozen in time.

She had to get out of here, she didn’t care that there were only two trunks left to open, she didn’t care that she would fail to escape the room, she was desperate to avoid one of them touching her, or worse spewing their load onto her skin.

Their heavy breathing filled her ears, filled her mind, made her heart pound in fear for the potential danger she imagined she could be in.
Her doubts raged as she cried out to be set free from the stocks, ‘Stay the fuck away from me you nasty fuckers, let me out of here! I’m done! I want out!’ She screamed. The panic in her voice must have reached him because instantly he was there by her head, whispering to her. ‘They aren’t in here baby, just keep your cool, won’t be much longer. You’re safe baby.’

‘YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO SPEAK TO HER! JUST FUCK HER STUPID!’ A voyeur screamed over the speaker.
‘USE EVERYTHING YOU HAVE THERE! PUT THE MACHINE ON HER, SPANK HER! FLOG HER! WHIP HER!’ another voyeur shouted. More of them began to join in with the cat calling and vengeful orders. She must have really pissed them off royally. They sounded like a lynching mob!

He stood up and walked behind her, flogging her skin, first softly, then more firmly. He circled her flicking those long lengths of leather catching the tips against her, making her jump and hiss at the stinging contact, he flicked harder and faster and a scream escaped her. The flogging stopped as quickly as it had started and she sagged in the stocks. Suddenly she was screaming for a whole new reason as the butt plug was removed and immediately replaced with his long hard cock. Her mouth was filled with a different cock, a synthetic one, the fucking machine was taking her mouth and filling it slowly, she tasted the lube and it caused her to wretch, but she took it. She could take anything now she knew he was definitely with her and they were still corralled upstairs. Before she could think anything else, he introduced a large dildo into her pussy as he rocked deeper and harder into her ass, she took all of him and squealed around the dildo pumping into her mouth.

Little hands wrought their own torment as they tweaked and pulled at her clamped nipples, as they reached down to her clit and rubbed furiously as he pounded both holes and her mouth was pounded. Her mind shut down, she drifted and descended to a place he had talked about but she had never been able to reach before. Subspace. She no longer felt connected to anything other than the amazing sensations rocking her body. She had no idea how long any of this went on for, she no longer cared about the room, the voyeurs, her defilement by them, she just was.

Finally, he came, in deep thrusting spurts, deep inside her ass, and she moaned as his heat spread through her. His heavy growl filled her ears and she spiralled. She had pleasured him beyond anything they had ever done and her heart swelled as her mind drifted.

A buzzer sounded and the machine was switched off, the dildo was removed from her mouth, little fingers cleaned her pussy and ass of his cream and she was released from the stocks without warning.

She stayed curled on the floor in the cage, all she wanted to do was sleep. She felt his big hands unfasten the ankle cuffs and then her chain was released from her collar. Suddenly she was free. Her blindfold was removed, and she looked at him. If she was hallucinating then this was the best hallucination she had ever had. Tears fell from her eyes as he wiped her face with a cold cloth, gave her a bottle of water to wash her mouth out, and then he tapped her cheek twice with his finger and said, ‘your final two codes are written on the back of the trunks, go get your prize baby, they couldn’t break you.’

The voyeurs were ranting and raving in the viewing boxes. Some were screaming fix, others were screaming abuse at her, calling her all the fucking whores in the universe, and others were cheering her on. Elle didn’t give a damn. She staggered over to the last two trunks and input the codes. In the final trunk was the dress she had been wearing when she had stepped into the room. She lifted it out and put it on. Only then did she realise she still had her clamps on and she removed them swiftly throwing them across the room. Her nipples sprang to life and stopped her dead in her tracks for a moment until she adjusted to the painful pleasure that coursed through her.

She walked to the door, and input her codes in order. The key dropped and she caught it. With trembling fingers she placed the key in the lock and turned it. The door sprang open and she stepped out of the room straight into his arms.

‘You owe me a weeks worth of orgasms…’ she muttered as he lifted her up and carried her to the lift that would take them up to their apartment. By the time he opened the front door, she was curled up fast asleep against his chest.

Damn she was a force to be reckoned with… He smiled as he lay down on the bed and held her while she slept.

.*♥**♥*★ *♥*..*♥*. BERNARD *♥**♥*★ *♥*..*♥*.

♥♥ ♥♥ MES PLUS BEAUX BISOUS D'AMITIES A VOUS ♥♥ ♥♥

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