Sunday, November 13, 2016

My Confession by Anonymous

My Confessiion

When I see him, my mouth goes dry. The lioness in my belly rises up, clawing, and she begins growling, searching for him, demanding. I reach up, wiping my lower lip with my fingers, glancing away and believing that I've hidden this intensity yet again.

It was as if he planned to look this gorgeous, bathed in the afternoon sun and sitting in my living room. He taunts me with his muscled chest. As his submissive eyes lower, I reach down, cupping his chin and pulling it up directly, commanding his attention to my face.

It's all I can do not to shove my heeled boot into his chest, knocking him backward, stripping his clothing off and taking him right there. In my mind, that's what I'm doing. I'm raping him. I'm ripping his shirt, raising my hand and pummeling that broad expanse of a chest with the back of my hand and unleashing this beast of a dominant woman that must possess him. But on the exterior, my controlled, practice voice only replies, "I see you're here again. Something you wanted? I have little time for you today..." And I release his chin, my palm itching with the need to slap his square jaw, leaving a pulsing, reddened handprint upon it.

The vein on his neck pulses, and he glances away. "I wanted to see you, Miss. I can't stop thinking about you." His voice slightly falters as I drink in his delicious unease. Through the light fabric of his shorts, I can see just a small bit of bulging beginning to appear. The outline of his cock through his shorts. The whole time I turn to walk away, my knees slightly trembling from the effort of restraint, I know his eyes are feasting on the back of my thighs. It is all I can do not to turn around, grab a fistful of his hair and smother his nostrils with the muscles of my inner thighs, so tightly that he cannot breathe while I bring the toe of my boot down and step on his erection.

I pour myself a glass of tea, "I hope you aren't actually admitting to using self-gratuitous thoughts of me to pleasure yourself." Cupping my fingers around the glass, I turn to observe him. His jaw is working with considerable thought on how to answer my question as I lean casually against the counter, idly sipping my drink. I swallow back desire, an ocean of it, crashing over me. With each movement of my arm, bringing the cool tea glass up to my lips, I press it against my hardened, turgid nipples that threaten to reveal the lust that simply will not go away. I add, "Harboring such erotic thoughts about another person without their knowing about it is shameful." The last words leaving my lips that crave his sweet mouth, to drink in his woeful cries as my lash begins to make love to his flesh, extracting from him the dark gasps of euphoria and sacrifice that I alone can inspire.

"It's true, isn't it, boy? You lust for me. And you've been stroking your cock and thinking about me." I level my gaze at him over the clear rim of the glass. I calmly set it down, expelling a warm, calm breath and standing back up, arching my brow at him. His face reddens, and he stumbles over his words. He chuckles, and then his smile fades. In a moment of rare bravery, he looks up, "I want you so badly, Miss. I cannot help my thoughts." At his confession, my own sex responds, a deep bass drum once, pounding, in my belly and making me swell, the fabric of my panties wet as my throat constricts. I could, right now, walk to him, lay hands upon him, press my thumbs into his windpipe and begin to take his very air away... it's how badly I must dominate him. I need to lay upon him, torture his cock, completely envelop him with my body until he drowns, so desperately immersed in my presence that he can no long live apart from me.

I glance at the door.

"Get out of my sight. I said I had no time for you. You may try again... in a few days" His stomach muscles tense, and he rises, pain flashing in his eyes as he meets mine one more time. Sweet, violent pain screams in the back of my head at my own denial, and as he drives away, I watch his car through the window. Turning, I pick up a very expensive glass vase, hoisting it through the air as it shatters in the direction he last walked, dispensing its brokenness across my marbled floor.

"Soon," I say, speaking only that word. Yes. It's not quite time.

But it's coming.

EXTRACTS FROM A DIARY FOUND IN A DUMPSTER by Mark

TITLE: EXTRACTS FROM A DIARY FOUND IN A DUMPSTER

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12 MARCH

Dear Diary

I have said it before, but it bears repeating: Dommes are easy meat. Tonight I’ll be going to my favourite club. There are always one or two there, dressed in their latex or leather, standing tall in their high-heel shoes, looking disdainfully around the room. Easy meat.

I always approach them the same way. I am ever so humble.

“Please forgive the intrusion. You look so wonderfully domme standing there. Can I buy you a drink?”

Sometimes it is hard not to laugh. – they never know I am dom, until it is too late. Until I have revealed all their broken little dreams, their inner confusions, their need to submit. Easy meat.

I will let you know, diary, how I get on. I know you love to hear how they end up crawling and begging after I’ve thrown them out of bed!

15 MARCH

Dear Diary

I have not written for a couple of days. It seems strange to think it is less than a week since I visited the club. She seemed like all the others. The usual fascination with getting her outfit *just so*. The cool demeanour. The phony confidence when I approached her. It should have gone so well.

OK, to you, dear diary, I admit I was smitten by her more than usual. She was beautiful, and her eyes – her eyes seemed to pierce through the gloomy interior of the club. If I did not know better, I could almost have believed that she saw right through me. For the first time I found myself on my knees. But that is OK, it is all part of the act – after all, I am ever so humble *laugh*.

I am not sure how it happened, but I did not bring her home.  It is not that she turned me down – not exactly. But, we parted at the club. I am not quite sure how that worked out. But she took my number, so I guess, dear diary, a pleasure delayed is a pleasure heightened!

19 MARCH

Dear Diary

No calls from her.

So I went to the club again, and she was there. She looked as cool and beautiful as last time. I went over with a drink, but she did not recognise me! To you, dear diary, I admit I was furious. How could she fail to remember me? I said nothing, I was ever so humble. But inside I was seething, and thinking of how I would visit humiliation on her, when it was my turn.

Her gaze is – how can I put it – smoky. It is like being trapped in the headlights of a car in the fog. It is hard to describe. I am not sure why I have not seen her before. It is almost as though that last time was her first visit to the club. But why would a beautiful domme suddenly appear out of the blue that way?

We talked. I found myself on my knees again. How did that happen? I gave her my number again. I am pretty sure she will call now – after all, I was *ever* so humble! *laugh*

21 MARCH

Dear Diary

No calls from her.

I am worried she lost my number. Maybe I wrote it down wrong. It has to be something, or I am sure she would have called by now. They are all the same. Inside, they need a man to be dominant with them. I can’t understand why I have not heard from her. It is probably my cell service – I need to change supplier.

Am already sorting out my outfit for the next club night. Not that I am eager or anything. Just it is always good not to have to rush at the last minute.

26 MARCH

Dear Diary

No calls from her.

I went to the club. She was there. She laughed when I asked her why she had not phoned. I could have ground my teeth, but as ever, I was oh so humble. So I meekly asked why she had suddenly appeared just a couple of weeks ago. She said she was from out of town on a ‘special mission’ and that she had been called in by local domme friends. God, how pretentious. I *know* her local domme friends – I have probably dom’d most of them, *laugh*. But I meekly smiled away, nodding up at her from my kneeling position on the floor. (How did that happen? How did I end up on my knees? It is almost becoming a habit.)

But she did say that next week, after the club, we might play a little. Did I like knives? I almost burst out laughing. “Oh yes”, I said, “knives and I are old friends”.

I admit to you, dear diary, that she is beautiful. It almost seems a shame to think of marring that beauty. But as you know, I am ever so humble, and so have to follow the dictates of my nature!

2 April

Dear Diary

I went to the club. She was not there at first, I was terrified she would not appear. Well, no, not terrified, obviously not. Concerned. Yes, that was it, I was concerned. But eventually she arrived. I brought her drink to her, and found myself on my knees before her again. Somehow, I do not seem to mind that so much with her. I expect that I am just building up the tension for when the tables turn, *laugh*.

She talked again about knives. Did I really not mind? I was ever so humble “Oh no Miss, I love them”. She laughed, and for just a moment I had that same eerie feeling that she could see right through me. I shrugged it off. She said she would visit after the club closed, so I gave her my address, then left early. After all, one always has preparations to make!

2 April, Midnight

Dear Diary

Am waiting for her. The room is set. Her life will never be the same again!

2 April, 1 am

Dear Diary

I can hear her heels on the staircase outside my door. I am waiting behind the door. I admit my heart is pounding.

                            NEWSPAPER CLIPPING STAPLED TO LAST PAGE OF DIARY

Local man found slain in kinky love-nest!

Mr Gregor Samsa was found slain in his apartment yesterday evening. Neighbours said they had contacted local police services after hearing loud screams emanate from the dwelling. Police said they are baffled by the crime, and by the SM paraphernalia found at the scene. The lead detective said they were especially puzzled by an inscription carved by a knife on the decedent’s chest: ‘I am ever so humble’. At this time, law enforcement officers have no suspects, and it is predicted by sources within the department that the crime will remain unsolved.

Confession by Julian

Since several years ago a fantasy circulated in my mind, but I did not know how to describe it. Not even it had words to define it.

Everything began with diverse forms of masturbation that I carried out.

I remember sometimes, when I was alone at home, I was aroused with diverse images,  mainly women with high heel shoes, dressed leather, or simply naked and heels.

I liked to stay aroused, but, logically, when I masturbated thinking about those images, I reached orgasm soon.

But I noticed also that, specially, I liked to be aroused without getting to reach orgasm.

Little by little I was improving the masturbation technique. Sometimes I worn a condom and I rubbed with the pillow until almost to get the orgasm.

Other times I only rubbed the tip of my penis with two fingers forming a circle, in such way that it stimulated much the nerves of glande, but never arrived at orgasm. Sometimes that technique made me literally crazy.

Nevertheless, the moral thoughts appeared again. Sometimes I thought about myself like I was crazy or that I was doing some wrong, because it was weird to stimulate to myself until almost arriving in the end, but finally not to arrive and to stop. Nevertheless that aroused to me enormously, because it extended to much the time of my erection.

With time I discovered that it had a name: Tease and denial.

Thanks to Second Life I discovered that many women liked so much that practice and it aroused to them enormously. It really turn them on doing that to men.

Later, I discovered another practice, but this time it was necessary to use a device. It was like a cage that was placed in the penis and prevented the erection. The name did not know either.

In the first moments I was scared. That olds thoughts come back, conscience remorses in case I was doing something mistaken.

But, simultaneously, I felt an attraction for that. In the end I dared to buy one of them. CTB 6000 was called.

I have worn at home sometimes, and I have to confess, that although I am scared and I would not like to wear it permanent, yes, I would like to prove it sometimes.

Confession by Anonymous

i do have a confession to make .......

im getting married to Mistress in 2 days ........

and my ex Miss even tho she is blocked etc etc

her standing there in the same club close to me does have an effect on me
her being near me has a effect of a urge to just talk to her
or at least be her friend in some way and its hard to just .............

look away and ignore her even if blocked or not

a lot of emotions come up and im not sure what they are

i have been told not to IM her ever again
and shes told me not to contact her etc
but she stands near me and i just want to just

i guess my confession is im thinking about just being her friend but its that or would that be possible

given the circumstaces

i feel so so stuck and trapped

i love my Mistress and im getting married in 2 days

but my ex pulls something in me out badly

and im not sure what it is i just need them to just

im not sure so i guess i confess to thinking about unblocking them and asking them something

i know its wrong and i know i wont do it but the temptation to do it ...... is very great when there in the same room ............

i guess i want that one more night and be done with it but i cant ....... Mistress told me not to IM her again .......

Autumn Pleasure by Lady Persephone

It's cold, bone chilling drizzle falls unrelentingly, he shivers.
Pale skin becoming translucent as blood flees to vital organs.
Cold bites My finger tips.
Ropes of now berry and leaf bare brambles are coiled at my feet,
It is obvious as to what now must unfold.
The carelessly flung summer leaves bedeck the arbor, sheltered from prying eyes.
Retrieving soft grey leather gloves cast aside to strip the man, I wiggle into their warmth.
Unfurling a spiked length of stem, I begin to weave my pleasure on his flesh.
Pliable, even after first frost, I twirl the fronds around him,
Thorns pressed to cut and bruise that bloodless skin.
Pain dances in his eyes as pupils betray the claw-like  pain created by the barbs.
My laugh condenses in the autumnal air.
Cold and pain tussle between his thighs, an elastic drool clinging to erect hairs.
Knowledge that pleasing me is the only reward,
A thousand wounds impressed upon his body
Each one a token of his submission
Carved in love
Received with honour.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Love by Anonymous

Love is indeed everything a person is, their very essence, as natural as breathing. It`s sad that most people don`t accept that and try to block it or control it. These same people wonder why there is so much stress, drama and unhappiness in their lives... why they can`t find the right one. It makes it hard for people that do understand, because we give freely, knowing no other way to be and can end up hurt, seemingly sometimes beyond repair. However, love being that it is, is forever growing, adapting and evolving...and the more you give, the more that you get, even if sometimes that means love itself gives back to you to rejuvinate you within and allow you to give more. It`s a beautiful cycle and I wish more people understood it. Life would be a much better place and so much less pain and sickness. The body never lies, it`s the mind and the self conscious of a person that interfere out of fear of rejection and a myriad of other things I imagine.

So many people don`t understand and are so blocked that it is hard to have a deep conversation without having to explain almost everything you think when it comes to love and/or relationships and/or giving/experiencing power exchange. Most anything to do with a human being vulnerable and just giving of themselves on a deeper level than a compliment, a nice night out or a fancy gift. To understand that it`s not the gift itself, but the thought and motivation behind it that mean so much more. You hear people say all the time that it`s the thought that counts, but society has taught a double lesson...one very fake and superficial and one that is true. Sadly most take the fake and superficial because it is less time consuming, takes very little thought and/or effort and it`s expensive, as if money shows your self worth. That way does protect you from being hurt I suppose.

I get so tired of people saying there`s a high bar to pass before they will enter in to something deeper because they`ve been hurt. We`ve all been hurt, but doesn`t it hurt you more to limit your capacity to love? Going back to the never ending cycle of give give back, it truly does take away from you and doesn`t allow for healing or rejuvination. Yet these same people believe they are *protecting* themselves from further pain, when the reality is they are only prolonging the pain they already have and not allowing a natural cleansing to happen. It is not by accident that when someone smiles at you, you smile back. Nor when you hug someone you get hugged back. Your body naturally does these things and I wish more people realized they are as essential as breathing to stay alive. Our bodies are made up of so much more than just the flesh and we have all kinds of natural healing properties if we`d only allow them to be used. When you smile back, you feel good inside naturally, it just happens. That lightens your mood, even if only for a second...in that second, positive energy can flow through you and heal something, or rejuvinate something, or just give you that much more reserve for the person or situation you are going to run into that may need some extra positivity. Same with a hug, and so many other things.

Now, you may wonder what all of that has to do with D/s. Well, in my not so humble opinion, there is no deeper relationship, nor more reason to be absolutely open to your Domme. We've all been hurt, had negative experiences, but if you are to ever heal and get past them, you have to open and reach out...... try again, or you will inevitibly end up in the same hurtful cycle, as that will be all you can draw in. Trust in your Domme to help replace the negatives with positive, healthy things. Grow and flourish, and see just how amazing like can be, and how much better you will feel, not just as a sub, but as a person in every aspect of your life.

Last Weekend

Last weekend.

We had a very late day on Saturday, but spent a lovely time together in the afternoon and early evening, with Mistress catching up on her soaps whilst I read, and then watching some programs together. It was really so nice to spend vanilla time that way, just being together even though we were doing different things!

Later in the evening, Mistress made me dress as Cynthia, with nail varnish and makeup and wig, and seamed black stockings, heels, black lingerie and the seethru black dress. I had to serve Mistress her meal this way, then sit at the table with her eating our dinner while dressed as Cynthia. It was a really odd experience, and I felt a strange mix of humiliation and submission as we sat there.

A little while after the meal, Mistress took me into the dungeon and blindfolded me and told me to kneel on the spanking stool. I could feel the cool material of the vinyl pads thru the flimsy nylon of my dress as I lay across the stool, and was aware of Mistress moving around me. I felt completely helpless as Mistress grabbed the hem of my dress and shoved it up past my hips then pulled my panties down, and I flinched as I heard her select an implement from the table.

At first, she merely drew the tails of the flogger she had selected across my skin, before whipping me lightly. But then she began to whip slightly harder. For some reason, I was especially sensitive to the pain, perhaps because of the late night the evening before. But I only really became aware of this when Mistress changed toys, and the first blow of the birch made me jump as it landed.

As each blow landed, the pain became worse, and there was only a moment’s respite when Mistress finished, as I could hear her move to the table to select a different toy. The first cane stroke that landed felt like a line of fire on my skin, and I realised I was crying out aloud as each stroke landed.

Eventually, the blows finished, but I could feel Mistress’s hands on me as she pulled my knickers further down, and then became aware of the tip of her cock pressing against me. There was nowhere for me to squirm to as the vinyl pads of the stool were pressing against me, and I moaned as Mistress’s cock began to slide in and out of my pussy.

I became hyper aware of the feel of the nylon of the dress against my skin and the tug of the suspenders on my stocking tops as each thrust of Mistress’s cock pushed me further down onto the stool and could not withhold a gasp as she roughly pushed her cock all the way inside me. After a while she stopped, and I heard her move around to my head.

 She pulled the blindfold off and for a moment I could not see in the glare of the light, then I saw that she was holding the black cock in her hand. ‘Do you want this in your pussy or in your mouth’ she asked. I begged to be allowed to take the cock in my mouth and she laughed and asked why, and I had to admit it was too big for me. She laughed again and told me to start sucking, and again waves of helplessness washed over me as I closed my lips around the head of the cock and started to suck on it. Mistress shoved it deeper into my mouth and then began to slide it in and out and my mind flashed back to some of her stories on Sl where she told me that she would train me to suck cock and then force me to pleasure other men while she watched.

When she stopped, she pulled my head up and asked me if I wanted to safeword. When I said ‘no’, she laughed again, and selected another cane and started beating me again. The pain seemed more intense than ever, but even though I was crying out by this time, Mistress ignored me and the blows continued until finally there was a momentary pause. But then I realised this was just to give Mistress time to select the strapon, and I moaned even more loudly as I felt its tip pressing against my pussy again.

 As Mistress began to rape me, I think I was only half aware of the moaning sounds I was making. By now I was deep in subspace and felt my body beginning to automatically respond to each thrust of Mistress’s cock as it shoved up inside me. After a while, Mistress pushed her cock all the way into me and left it there, and began to cane me again. It felt utterly submissive to have Mistress’s cock buried deep inside me while she caned me, and it took me some moments to comply when Mistress told me to stand.

By this time I was blindfolded again and was totally disoriented. Mistress led me across the room, and ordered me to my knees. I could sense that she was sitting before me, and then she told me to lick her clit. It was such an incredibly erotic experience for me to run my tongue over Mistress’s clit,

.After what seemed like all too short a time, Mistress made me get up and led me back to the stool, still blindfolded, and told me to sit. After a long pause, I heard a rustling sound and then gasped as a polythene bag was pulled over my head. Mistress tightened it and I could feel myself straining to get enough air, and could feel the material of the bad moving in and out with each breath. Finally Mistress relented and pulled the bag from my head, and told me the play session was over.

I was allowed to dress, and we spent the rest of the evening together in front of the TV. After what had seemed to me a strenuous play session, although Mistress later told me she had not been too hard on me, it was wonderful just to sit on the sofa together. But I think the session had affected us both, and that night in bed Mistress said that she was horny now, even though it was very late.

She allowed me to watch her use the vibrator and to rub myself while I watched. After she had cum twice, Mistress allowed me to kneel between her legs as she used the vibrator again. Just being in that position made my cock even harder, and Mistress told me to press it to her cunt while she used the vibrator. It was so, so exciting for me to feel the warmth of her cunt against the tip of my cock thru the flimsy material of her panties. And that, plus the sound of the vibrator on her clit, made me cum almost immediately, just before Mistress herself came for the third and final time.

Eventually, we both fell asleep exhausted. But just before sleep overcame me, I spent a little bit of time thinking on how lucky I am that Mistress has taken my collar and how grateful I am that she was willing to give up an entire weekend to spend time with me. I know how exhausting the working week is, and it is a really long journey up here. So I lay counting my blessings and looking forward to spending some time on Sunday with Mistress, before she had to get her train home again. I loved our play so much, but I equally treasure our vanilla time where we can just be together.