Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Confessions of A Sub by Anonymous


Anonymous

The one that brightens up my day

It was the day after the auction at the Dominion, I was working on the tasks that were assigned to me by the Lady that bid the highest for me at the auction and another Lady messaged me out the blue. I was not used to getting too many messages as I usually keep to myself and do not interact all that much unless called upon. It was the message that was the start to a wonderful friendship. I was in awe, enamored and completely taken in by this Lady like no one else has ever in second life. In a short while I got incredibly close and I am still completely smitten by Her.

I wait eagerly each day for Her messages and Her support and encouragement. It brightens up my day like no other. She is a true inspiration as I admire how hard she works and how strong she is. I admire her for what she has achieved and how she strives and overcomes her difficulties and there is so much I learn each day from Her.

I have never thought I would be able to bond so much with a person on SL, but I am happy it is Her and She is truly special in each and every way to me in just the little things she says and does which could be just telling me to “Go to bed”.

I hope one day that I would be able to proudly say that She is my “Mistress”. It is for that day that I eagerly and patiently wait.

The Past by Anonymous

A confession, hmm where to begin?

Well, I suppose I should start at the beginning. I grew up in an er, let’s say dysfunctional household. My Father was an abusive drunk and my mother followed suit only without the alcohol.
I don’t have many memories of my childhood but unlike those who say that you block trauma from your memory as a defence mechanism, well I ONLY remember the trauma.

Anyway, I digress…. Back to the confession. Gosh this is harder than I thought as I have NEVER told anyone this. ……..

I ran away from the crap at home at the age of 14. I had mere pennies in my pocket but I figured anything was better than the life I was being forced to lead.

I met an older guy on my second day, after having walked around the city all night, cowering in doorways, sheltering from the cold. He was a lot older than me and I knew what he wanted but figured, Hey my Father and his dickhead mates had been taking it from me for free all these years, why not use the only thing I had learnt.

So I went with this guy and gave him what he wanted, but did not realize the danger that was ahead of me. From the second night I met him, he pimped me out to all and sundry. I was 14, alone in the city, scared, penniless and this guy was offering me food, shelter and money, although very little.

I stayed in that situation until I was 17 and I guess too ‘old’ for him and his cronies. I couldn’t/wouldn’t go home, had no money to leave and no friends. So one day he just threw me out on the street and again I was alone and penniless with nowhere to turn.

So, I continued to make money the only way I knew how for two years until I had saved enough to get a small apartment and then, with an address I got my first ‘real’ job’.
I never went back to the streets again.

Fast forward 30 years and I’m now a mother of three amazing kids, have a beautiful home and a fulfilling career.

I worked my ass off to never be in that position again and I have been fortunate enough to never have been.

I have never told ANYONE about my past, just that I left home at 14 to stay with extended family.

So please don’t judge me for who or what I was. See me for the person I am today. A strong, independent, loving woman who now works with vulnerable females.

I guess I know where they’re coming from, although I would never admit that.



Delicious Regret by Anonymous

Delicious Regret



I bit, and it bit back.
Curiosity took ahold of me a little too hard this time.
The hunger set in.
The salivating need to take just a little taste.
Just looking in through the window at such a thing drove me to psychosomatic starvation.
Goosebumps rose.
heartbeat quickened.
Watching people handle it.
Fondle it.
Squeeze it.
Testing it for perceived... Ripeness.
I couldn't take it and I had to rush in.
Putting on my pleasant, conversation mask.
Doing my best to seem like anything but a crazed and needful individual single-mindedly seeking a fix.
I smiled, and bartered, and exchanged for what it is that drove me to this.
And finally.
One agonising eternity later.
I had it.
I tasted it.
I let the sweetness sink in.
And then the bitter bit back.
The sour coursed through me like electric regret.
My face screwed up.
My voice absent rendering my full-mouthed scream silent.
Breath sucked through my teeth in a desperate need for oxygen.
My mind contourting to find a solution to this newfound misery I had oh so recently craved.
Was I too eager?
Did I not prepare enough?
One thing's for certain.
That day really curbed my desire for eating lemons.

Chapter One - The Breaking by Anonymous

Chapter One—The Breaking

They had met online…one of those odd, chance meetings that seem innocuous at the time but end up life changing.  He was there as Dom and She listened to him chat…watched him closely, saw something in him that drew Her, saw past the bluff and bluster.  She started the conversation…it had lasted weeks and in that time She slowly drew him in, made him look within himself, made him understand his true needs and desires in a way that put him off balance, confusing him at first.  Then he saw…saw Her, saw himself and understood his true nature and She had collared him shortly thereafter.  They had moved in together some months later.

The relationship was wonderful…She was beautiful and he had that rugged, handsome look and was honestly, a bit old school.  Out in the world he was naturally protective of Her, opened car doors, pulled back Her chair, always tending to Her needs first and She loved that about him.  He was simple and direct in his approach to life…things simply were and he accepted…he would not talk much about his past life though…She saw shadows there when She asked…deep within…and She just had to let that go…for now.  We all have our shadows She thought to Herself.

The sex was delicious…they were a good match and at times She would take him, although not as hard as She had others in the past and other times they would simply make love, hard and passionate, deep into the night.  He was a good lover, knew how to please and entice and always looked to Her needs first.  She always led, even though he might not realize it and was molding him, even though he was not always aware…bringing him to the point where She needed him to be…to make him into Her vision…to allow him to be the man She thought he needed to be…to release the inner desires he had avoided for so long.

Over the months together, they had fallen into the rhythm of life, both working, both busy with the same issues of any other couple working to integrate their lives.  It happened one morning…She was in teaching mode, working to make a point with him and he was distracted… a big project at work that was consuming his time and he had blown Her off.  Cut Her off in mid-sentence and said he had to go…not even a kiss good-bye.  She had seethed all morning.  There was something about what happened that made Her angry, but also frightened Her a bit as She felt him slipping away.  She would not lose him.

His phone binged around noon and he looked at the IM.  It said, I will be home at 7, I want you at the front door at 6:30 waiting for me, collar, cuffs, ball gag, kneeling on rice and wearing panties…pink.  He read it a second time and shivered.

She walked into the house at 7, put Her purse on the table and looked at him kneeling as instructed, waiting for Her.  She knew the 30 minutes on the rice must have been agony for him, given his old knee injuries…but She didn’t care.  The drool from the ball gag was running down to his chest and She saw the cuffs on wrists and ankles and also the lovely pink panties.  He looked up at Her with defiant eyes…in pain, angry and confused.  She started to turn away and then whirled…slapping him across the cheek so hard that it made him stumble to the side.  He righted himself slowly…his eyes finding Her again…still defiant.

She walked past him to their room…left him kneeling there, waiting.  She undressed and got dressed slowly.  Black satin bra and panties and then pulled on the wonderfully supple leather thigh high boots he had bought for Her while in Spain on business, She rose to return to him, the 4” spiked heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

She attached the leash to his collar…pulled him roughly after Her, forcing him to follow on his knees…She knew he had been there long enough to have the rice embed in the skin, but, to his credit, She didn’t hear a groan or sound as he crawled behind Her.  She was not a dungeon Mistress…didn’t have a specific playroom, making use of everyday things when She needed.  They did, however have a bondage bench in the extra room and it was a simple padded device that allowed Her to restrain if She chose and tonight, She chose.  She pulled him over the bench, attached the wrist cuffs to the bottom rings and then the feet…there were multiple widths and She selected the ones that spread him the most, opening him up to Her.  She leaned down and quickly bound his balls, which did bring a groan and at that She smiled to Herself…he had no idea, thinking perhaps this was just hard sex.

She walked around, Her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as She moved.  Squatting down in front of him She grabbed his hair to pull his face up, making him look into Her eyes.  “Do you want to leave…shake your head yes and I will unbind and release you and you can pack and go”.  He looked at Her, shook his head no.  She smiled at him, a predatory smile that did not touch Her eyes…one that he had not seen before.  She could see in his eyes that he was less defiant…less sure.  “When you begged my collar you said you gave yourself to me…told me you were Mine and I, in return, told you I would take from you everything.”  She slipped a hand to his throat…gently at first…running over it lovingly…then tightened.  She heard a slight gasp as he struggled for breath.  “You are Mine…all of you, even the breath you take is Mine…I have been too soft…I am going to remind you tonight who you belong to”.

She stood…walked behind him…took the heavy leather flogger that hung next to the whip from the bench and ran it across his back and down to his ass as She moved.  She had flogged him before but usually using the pain to accentuate the pleasure…tonight was different.  She leaned and pulled the pink panties halfway down his thighs.  Reached for the ass plug, lubed and shoved it into his ass…not gently as She usually did, working in…She pushed it all the way with one stroke…heard him grunt.  She then drew back and hit him with all Her strength, bringing another grunt from him…then lightly ran Her hand over his ass where it had left a red mark.  She stepped back, the next blow up between his legs, slapping into his bound and red balls which brought both a grunt and a groan.  Then She went to work…flogging him hard…the blows alternating between ass and balls as She listened to him grunt and groan with each.  Not quite the sound She was looking for. 

She walked around the bench again, squatted, grabbed his hair, making him look into Her eyes again…he was sweating now, his eyes less focused.  She turned Her head as She spoke, much as a lioness would her pretty, just before she struck,  “I want you all, I want your screams and tears, and I will have them”.  Tossing the flogger to the floor casually, She grabbed the whip from the hook as She walked by.  Positioning Herself behind him again, She reached back with the whip and let it fly, cutting into his already red and sensitive ass.  The sound he made was more…had a higher pitch and She went to work on him…the whip an extension of Her, a part of Her, Her anger, Her pride and in an odd way Her love.  She varied the strokes so that he could not anticipate and each time the whip touched him it left an angry red welt and She occasionally went up between his legs to touch his bound balls.  She started to sweat Herself from the exertion…gentle beads running between Her large and beautiful breasts.  She lost track of time…had folded into Herself as She delivered the soft leather to his sensitive ass…Her mind drifting to another place, another time.  His sobs brought Her back…low moaning sobs as he was trying to speak around the gag…all She could make out was, please, please, please.  His head and body shaking as he begged.

She stopped…that was the sound She was looking for.  She walked back around…pulled his face up, his eyes were red and swollen, tears streaming down his cheeks…he was panting, trying to catch his breath.  She gently took the ball gag out.  Looking deep into his eyes, She asked “Who do you belong to?”  “You my Mistress, You”, came the ragged reply, his eyes searching Hers.  Satisfied with the answer, She reached over to the bed and grabbed the strap-on, attaching it as She watched him.  “Yes my pretty bitch, you are Mine, all of you…kiss the tip of my cock”.  He tentatively reached his lips out…kissed.  “Now, open your bitch mouth, wide”.  He opened.  She had had him suck for Her before of course…but this was different…She actually slipped a little lube on the cock and then took him.  She drove the cock deep into his mouth…felt it at his throat…saw his body convulse as he tried to gag it out…held it there for a moment, letting him adjust, catch his breath.  Then deeper…felt it push into his throat…again, he gagged hard…his body pushing up from the table as he gasped for breath.  She had both hands on his head, holding him in place…held it there, held it…then out...he gasped and wretched, large amounts of drool coming from his mouth, falling to the floor.  She pulled his head up again by the hair, “Are you my pretty bitch, my little cocksucker?”  “Yes”, was all he managed to get out.  She slapped his face hard, “Complete sentences, bitch”.  He looked up into Her eyes,” Yes my Mistress, I am your pretty little cocksucking bitch”.

She looked down at him…red eyes, drooling, tears still sliding down his cheeks, “Good, I have had several men ask me about you at the clubs, we are going to find you a real cock to suck…they will like the pink panties on you I think.  I have one in mind and have watched him work…he loves to take men and turn them into little bitches.  Let’s just say he has peculiar tastes”.  She slipped the cock back into his mouth, gave him a moment and then slowly started to fuck his mouth…deeper with each stroke, would listen to him gag as She got deeper…then finally all the way in…speeding up…taking, fucking his mouth just like his ass.  She listened to the sounds coming from him, moaning, gagging, the odd throat sound when it’s invaded…waited, knew he was on the verge of breaking, fucked his mouth savagely for a few moments more…then pulled out, wiping the wetness of the cock across his cheek.

He had his head down, looking at the floor while the drool continued to come from his mouth…She grabbed his hair, pulling his face up again, “Open”, and he opened his mouth…She leaned and spit directly into it, looked into his eyes and hissed, “You are Mine”.

She walked behind him…heels clicking on the floor…pulled the plug from his ass…put the cockhead at the entrance, hesitated a second and then rammed it into him.  Usually, this was a slow gentle process when She took him, made love to him, but not tonight.  She fucked him savagely…up on Her tiptoes for better leverage, She raped his ass…he cried out from the first stroke…groaning and grunting as She took him.  She pounded him, Her full weight behind each thrust…deep, hard, unrelenting…reaching around to take his nipples in Her hands, twisting hard, making him cry out again and again…bringing them back, slapping his welted and red ass hard making it sting even more.  The only sounds in the room were his groans and sharp cries as She raped him and the rhythmic sounds of the cock moving in and out.

The fucking affected Her as well…the strap-on rubbing Her as She fucked him, She found Herself taking it deep then grinding against it against herself as it rested there…Her desire flaring up.  She finally pulled out…heard him still panting hard…took off the strap-on and let it fall to the floor.  She released the restraints…pulled him up on shaky legs by the leash…pulled him to the bed and pushed him onto it, face up. 

 “You don’t get to fuck Your Mistress tonight bitch, in fact, not sure you will ever get to do that again, we will see.  But you will pleasure Her”.  She mounted his face…lowering Herself down onto him and said one word, “Lick”.  He did, desperately…he licked and sucked Her and as She moved and ground on top of his face sometimes his tongue would be in Her pussy, then ass…each time he tried to lick and suck and tongue as fast as he could…desperate to please Her.  It did not take long…She was already so wet and hot that when he first slipped his tongue into Her, it hit Her like an electric shock…after only a few minutes She pushed Her beautiful breasts together…moaned and came onto his face…grinding and moaning, cumming again and again as the waves washed over Her…his face slick with Her as She collapsed for a moment onto his stomach to catch Her breath.

She got up…pulling him by the leash after Her and then sat down…making him stand in front of Her.  She reached out and untied his balls…now bright red.  She leaned back…spread Her legs as She sat…Her breasts falling low and looked up at him.  “Stroke for me bitch”.  He looked at Her…then into Her eyes…his hand slipping down to find his cock then slowly starting to stroke for Her.  He blushed as his cock responded so quickly, growing hard in his hand…looking at Her…looking deep into those sometimes unfathomable green eyes, a hawk’s eyes…She missed nothing. 

 Moaning low as he stroked, the precum coating his hand.  “Faster, bitch”.  And he did, increasing the speed, feeling the familiar tingle in his balls…knowing he would cum soon, could not help it.  She looked at him, “Cum into your hand, bitch, now!”  He did…the command from Her so strong…he raised his other hand and came…shooting out huge spurts, most of it on his hand, some overshooting, landing on the floor.  She pulled the leash down, forcing him to kneel…leaned in, watching him closely, “Now, lick bitch and make sure you don’t miss a drop”.  He dropped his eyes…brought the hand to his face, licking the warm cum from it, licking between the fingers, sucking the fingers in to get each drop. Then She looked down and he knew…he went to all fours, leaned and licked the last drops from the floor.

She pulled him back up by the leash…pulled his face to Hers, “Who do you belong to” and he whispered, looking deep into Her eyes, “You my Mistress, always”.  She reached, unsnapped the leash, took his hand gently, led him to the bed, laid back and pulled him down, his head resting on Her chest…She listened to him…felt him, knew him and soon his breathing slowed…She murmured gently, soothingly, over and over, “Yes my love…Mine”.  She stroked his head as he lay there and soon She felt him drift off and thought to Herself…I wonder what dreams will come.

In the morning, he woke, having slept late and She was already gone as She had an early morning.  He wandered out to find coffee and there on the counter some clothes were laid out along with a note. He picked it up and read:

Good morning my love…I have left some things for you.  You will wear these whenever you are in the house alone or when I am there, no matter who I have with me.  Over time, you will be able to earn your other things back, but for now…  Kisses.

He looked at the folded items…sheer, black maids apron that would cover his chest and fall maybe just below his waist and sheer, black lace panties.  Next to the clothes was a collar, pink, with white letters spelling out “Bitch”.  He looked towards the door as it beckoned to him, as it offered him freedom and then he lowered his head, felt his face growing red and slowly slipped off the robe and put everything on.

So Simple by Anonymous

It all used to be so simple.

A tug on my leash would wake me up, and I'd crawl to her side of the bed. A few precious moments of cuddling before we struck out to face the day. We each knew our jobs and we did them well. The morning went by with a breeze, and before I knew it I was out the door and sitting into a room with 30 other people. None of them knew I had a welt across my ass from forgetting to put honey in her tea. Or the bruise on my chest from faultering as her footrest while she was halfway through her second episode of project runway the night before.

After a few hours in class I'd get a break, get up off the hard plastic seat. Smiling to myself at the feeling as blood slowly returned to my butt. She'd already picked out my lunch for me. No need to worry myself having to choose. I sat quietly and ate, smiling at the other people as they passed.

Before long, my day out in the big scary world was finished and I'd head back home. It's a comforting feeling coming home to a warm familiar house. A place where everything made sense and I knew what to expect. I didn't have to worry about whether my pillow was comfortable. I didn't have to make sure I woke up on time. What clothes I'd wear. What chores I would do, or what I would have for dinner. I just had to be good. 

I'd walk in the door and close it gently behind me. A quick change from what I wore that day into a collar and cuffs, and I set to work. I was usually home a while before her which gave me time to get everything in order, just the way she liked it. The bed made, mail retrieved, trash emptied, and dinner started. When I heard her car pulling up in the driveway, I took my place at the end of the entry way, with my knees and forehead touching the ground, and my wrists crossed behind me. She would take the leash down from the hook, and gently snap it to the ring in my collar. A quick but firm tug was all it took for me to follow. I'd watch her feet to know where to follow, which was usually a quick inspection of my work, then back to finish our dinner. When she let me finish cooking, her dinner was elegant and tasty. Mine was unceremoniously scraped into a dog bowl.

I remember when we first met, all it took was a stern look to guide me from the door over to the chair across from her at the table. Her fierce eyes evaporated into a sweet gentle smile, which lit up the room with an effervescent glow. Her curly black mane framed her face like a painting. I stared at the way she effortlessly moved her lips as she spoke, while I struggled to keep my composure. Her fingers gently brushed mine as I held onto my cup, sending an electric tingle down my spine. I could feel my heart beating loudly in my chest, ringing through my ears like the footsteps of a giant walking through the valleys and ridges of my brain. The giant made it impossible to sit still and not squirm against seat of the chair. I squeezed my legs together, and felt the nervous tension rise from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

We sat there until long after the coffee had gotten cold. That night was the first night I'd felt content in a long time. I wrapped myself up tight in my blankets and opened my windows to let the cold night air sink into my room.

It was few months later she suggested I move in.

She pushed my servatude further than it had been pushed before. The previously terrifying feeling of a hood slipping over my head, being laced tightly before locks solidly clicked shut in buckles of each strap. Instead of feeling claustraphobic, it felt comforting and safe. I learned to be a towel rack while she showered. I was her foot warmer when she was cold. On special occassions I was even allowed onto the furniture to snuggle or watch a movie.

It was a magical time in my life where everything made sense, so it was tough to let go when I graduated. She took a job in another city, and I was pushed out the door. I miss having someone in charge. I miss having someone I can make smile when she's had a tough day. I miss the calm feeling of my senses being taken away one by one. Until eventually there's nothing but my heartbeat.

Brotherhood by Reason

"Brotherhood!"
"Brotherhood!"
Miss Saramoa shouted "Brotherhood!" yet again as I was standing over Banana, a giant taco shooting gun aimed right at her forehead, ready to splatter a delicious burrito all over her face.
"Brotherhood Reason!"

And at that very moment I wondered, what is this "brotherhood" Miss keeps talking and shouting about.

Ever since I met my lovely Mistress I was very possessive about her, even her sub(who got sacked for being jealous) bothered me despite me not even being under her consideration yet!
I never thought of or wanted to share her with anyone else yet somehow this friendly, banana-wearing, Britbong clown managed to make a place for herself in our relationship.
We've been trough a lot of adventures together, a bit of lows and a lot of highs, and I won't deny I tried to get her in trouble as much as she tried to get me in but at the end of the day, after all the annoyance I am still glad my buddy Banana is here, bringing us a lot of laughter on a daily.

Is brotherhood between subs this sense of comradery, friendship and willingness to tolerate sharing your beloved Mistresses attention with another person or just a way for Mistress to tell us to behave?
I don't know, but I sure hope this made for a good enough confession to submit and get me out of trouble!

The Therapist by Lady Dalia

The Therapist by Dalia Fermi
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My phone rang about 10am that morning.

“Miss Dalia?”

“yes?”

“It’s Benny. I need to see you, an emergency session.”

I sighed.  “I can squeeze you in at 4:45pm”

“But… but… you close at 5pm Ma’am”  he spluttered.

“I fail to see the problem Benny.  You seem to be under the delusion that your life and problems matter and somehow *laughs* you are more important than me.  Meet me then or not at all” I hung up the phone.

4:45pm.  4:50pm  4:58pm Benny arrives drunk at my door step.

“mish Dalia, I can explain” He said, his eyes taking in my legs and curves beneath a sweater set and fitted skirt, eyes remaining lowered, stopping at my high heels.

“You’re drunk Benny” I said letting him in.

Benny flushes, “erhm yes but…”

“You have 2 minutes.”  I start gathering up my paperwork and closing up my filing cabinet.

“Are you going to listen?” he whined.

“Stop being a child.  I can listen and work at the same time, you pathetic excuse for a man.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he paused and continued  “Well I had a dream.”

I look over at him and started shaking my head.  He flushes some more.

Benny and I had worked extensively on his delusions of masculinity and attractiveness.  Throughout our work he continually acted out his delusions with an unhealthy  obsession with me.  His dreams had been filled with visions romancing me,  having sex with me and most ludicrous, he believed in these dreams that I actually returned his misplaced affections.

“No, it was different this time!  I dreamt I was out on the street.”

I turned to look at him.  Benny was skinny, in a awkward, geeky kind of way.  His hair wiry and red.  He looked at me expectantly.  I gave him a slow spreading smile.

“Benny you’ve had a breakthrough!” but still I shook a single pointing finger at him “You know the drill.  For anything of these breakthroughs to mean anything you have to assume a position that shows you fully understand.  Inside matching outside Benny” I said in a bit of a sing-song voice.

Benny got on all fours and I smiled kindly.  “Much better!  Tell me about the dream”

I continued to close up my office and he crawled around, following me, as he explained, “I was lying on the street not far from here.  I was drunk.”  I snorted and he blushed deeply.  “I had vomited all over myself and the sidewalk.  For some reason, I couldn’t move.”  He stopped speaking as I removed my sweater set to reveal a black satiny boned corset.

He gaped.  “Mish Dalia!  That’s not right!”  He gulped out, turning his head away slightly but could not avert his eyes.

I sighed again and then inhaled deeply, explaining as patiently as I could,” Benny you are such a disappointment.  This is simply a test.  If you really had truly realized your place as WORTHLESS in this world, you would not be reacting to my lingere.”  I slipped on a blazer, buttoned it up and looked for my pearls.

“if you’d only accept that you have no reason for existence, you would have eliminated all these internal conflicts and the pain upon rejection after rejection.  It’s only in fighting against these truths that you have a problem Benny.”

Benny looks down and nods fully abashed.  “Go on,” I prompted, grabbing my purse.

“Well that’s it” he said, as I walked to the door.

I reached out a well manicured hand to the brass door knob and paused, thinking.

“That’s it?  That is the emergency?”

Benny started to sweat now.  “yesh, Mish”

I opened the door.  “Follow me”


“But but but” he spluttered.

“Now.”

“But they’lll know!”

“Inside and outside, Inside and outside matching Benny.  How many times do I need to tell you Benny?” I said through gritted teeth.

Slowly he made his way through the door, outside to the front stoop of my decaying brownstone.  I make my office here so that I am closest to my loser clients.  Once an affluent area it is now filled with crackheads, whores, and their pimps.

Benny winced as his nostrils were assailed by the strong smell of urine, being closer to the ground than usual.

I lightly made my way down the steps, turning to him encouragingly. “Come along”

Benny eyed the group of men lounging in the empty lot adjacent to my building.

“Benny, nothing is going to happen that you don’t want”  I smiled and he took a deep breath and crawled.  We walked towards them and an older woman, aged by years on the street stepped forward. 

“Good evening Miss Dalia!”

“Good evening Susan!  How’s business?”

“Just great!  I can’t keep up” she said rolling her eyes at the two homeless men behind her.  She laughed and revealed two missing front teeth.

Benny took in the vision of her, jaw dropping.

“I think you have another admirer here Susan”

Susan came forward raising her already tiny skirt, revealing a bald, sagging vagina, glistening with cum.

Benny started retching and made good his dream by throwing up.

I reached down, turned his face toward me and slapped him.

“Manners!  I think you need to make up for your rudeness to this hard working woman.”

Benny started crying. “Please Mish Dalia, no”

“Benny, what did I tell you about these reflexive responses?  You know they are only weak protestations echoing the bullshit lies you tell yourself about being worth something”

And we had worked hard on it.  Months of psycho drama where he learned to suck my dildo and begged to take it up the ass had lead to this day.  I beckoned to the filth crowding around.

“Drop your pants Benny”

“You can’t do this to me” he whimpered.

“Benny, I am not doing a thing to you.  You must be more accountable for your choices that have led you to this.  Now drop your pants Benny.”

With shallow, ragged breaths he did as he was told. 

“Is he a fag?” The first man asked.

I considered and shrugged,  “Maybe”

As Benny’s mouth opened to scream “no” his breath was cut off with a kick to the stomach by Susan.

“Fucking’ cunt, waiting on your knees, taking my business”

The first man, excited by the violence, eagerly walked over to crouch over Benny’s ass.

“I’m not hard enough” said the second man.  I slapped Benny again, as Susan unzipped the mans pant’s and guided his dirty smelling cock to Benny’s open, panting, sobbing mouth.

As the smell hit Benny, he began gagging and retching only to be frozen by the sensation of the first man’s cock up his ass.

“Smile pretty Benny” I said, snapping a picture of him with my cell. His wide eyes looked up at me and filled with tears. “This is for when you try to slip back in denial”.

I kicked his wallet free of his sagging pants and carefully picked it up.  Removing all the cash from it, I turned to Susan.  “He’s terribly sorry to have taken all you business”.

Susan cackled, “Heeee! For that price, I’d train him myself”

Smiling sweetly at Benny, I said “No, tonight will be enough. We have developed such a close working relationship.  See you at your regular time Benny”

As I walked to the corner to catch a taxi, I could hear Susan rasping out instructions to Benny on how to be a better whore.  I relaxed.  He was in such good hands.

Devotional Sex by Cam

Devotional Sex - Cam Inventor

Mistress introduced me to the concept of devotional sex quite early on in our relationship.  For those of you who haven't heard the term before, the term can mean a lot of things, but is principally about having sex where the man provides the woman with orgasms, while letting her decide when he can cum, or not.  There's supposed to be a lot of times that they couple where she gets to cum without him. This maintains the man's arousal and (hopefully) makes sex more fulfilling.

There's a concept of the woman being the "Queen" and the man being the "Prince"; he is subservient to her and honours her by pleasuring her.  For the Prince to ask to cum is frowned upon as, in the spirit of chivalry, he is supposed to wait patiently until she allows him release.

I'd read this in a particular way.  I'm already pretty submissive in terms of initiating sex, even when I want it desperately, but from the outset I read into it that the Prince wasn't to initiate, wasn't to request sex from his Queen.

That's the way it was for years between us.  I'd wait patiently for Mistress to initiate sex.  Never, thankfully, very long.  Mistress loves sex even more than I do.  But she craved more - she loves to know that she's desired and wanted.  Having to take the lead all the time can be difficult.

That all changed recently, when we were reading a book which some of you may know - Uniquely Rika.  I don't agree with everything in the book; some of it I actually find quite offensively sexist.  I'm not going to go into the book at length here; you'll all I'm sure have read it and have your own opinions, both good and bad about it. What I did find fascinating though were the passages on devotional sex.  They depict a version of it which was quite different to my understanding.

This is a world where the man can show his desire.  He can initiate sex.  He just. can't. cum. At least not when he pleases.  I discussed this with Mistress and ... what a revelation.

All this time I've been missing that point.  She wants to feel needed and wanted and *lusted after*.  Initiating sex with her is one way I can do that.  She wants me to show her I. want. Her.

I still can't cum when I want.  I still can't ask to cum, at least not directly.  I'm still the submissive.  But I get to show her I want her. I get to initiate sex with her.  She can of course refuse, and that's fine.  I suspect she rarely will though - as I said, we both love sex so much.

There's a whole new world that just opened up to us.  Keep looking, keep exploring, keep *thinking* and I'm sure you too will find new worlds of sex; whatever stage or however old your relationship is at.

Panties by Anonymous

This story is about my first experience of buying panties. As simple as this task might seem, it actually requires quite a deal of planning. First you need to make sure that the store is not near where you live or work, so you might not have to see the store people again or you don't end up seeing a friend or colleague at the store. Next you need to consider if it's a store that sells articles for both men and women or it sells articles specifically for women because what sort of a man would just budge in a ladies store out of no where. Next you need to plan your actions inside the store, whether you want to go straight for the panties or walk around for a while in the store and then "stumble" upon some nice looking panties and be like " ohh.. i was not here for panties but i would take it). Next ,Should you just buy the panties or buy other articles too as 'decoys'. Should you buy an expensive 1 just to give an impression that it was a gift for someone special for some panned night.
After planning all this i chose a distant store selling articles for both men and women. I entered and started to roam in the men's section for , keeping an eye on the ladies section. then i slowly made my way towards the ladies section, hands behind my back. there were like 3 or four 4 ladies in the ladies section, they started to give me strange look from the edges of their eyes that made me sort of uncomfortable. i thought to wait for a moment till they move on and then find and go through their panties selection in peace, I stood there, searching for panties maintaining safe distance from other ladies. then a man walked in the ladies section and i thought what the hell he is doing here. the man walked towads a woman in ladies section. and i was like.. ohh fuck, did he saw me standing here and found it suspicious so he decided to accompany his woman. right then a staff lady came to me and said something in her language (which i don't understand) but i took it as if she was asking "can i help you?". i replied "i am just looking for some nice panties for my girl". damn... my heart gave a thump... i should have said "dresses" and not "panties". panties were supposed to be something that i just would eventually end up buying . but to my relief she did not understand a thing i said. she muttered something again. people in the ladies section now were looking at me with keen interest. As a last effort i ran my eyes through the ladies section but could not spot the panties. i just gestured with my hands and said to the lady" never mind". i moved back to the men's section. i again started to roam the men's section waiting for my next opportunity to strike back like a lion. After a couple of minutes there i realized it has gotten way too awkward. screw this, ... Amazon exists for a reason...... i thought and left the store.

Banana's Confession

To have power over the mind is a skill beyond comprehension for many but I confess that I now know my Mistress has control and power over my mind.  Slowly but surely I have fallen into her hands.  I have a significant degree of mental strength born out of my curiosity, desire to learn and lifelong experiences.  This strength enables me to manage the mental manipulation I have and continue to experience.  I hold this mental strength close as it guides me through my Mistress' journey, which is sometimes orientated around significant degrees of embarrassment and humiliation.  Systematically, slowly and steadily my Mistress takes my mind and with words, actions and requests, removes my comfort levels by introduces me to degrees of embarrassment and mental suffering never felt before.  However, as time goes by, I slowly become accustomed to my existence and my anguish, embarrassment lessens, the level of comfort increases, and to a point, my existence potentially becomes the norm.  If there is ever a thought that this state could be reached, my mind is taken to another level.  This results in a new level of humiliation and causes me to suffer mentally and causes confusion in my own thoughts, confusion in who I am or what I may be or may become.

This is the power my Mistress has over me and I confess that as my comfort levels again reach an accepting state, the power my Mistress has over me and her capabilities comes to the fore once more.  I confess that I contemplate the capabilities of my Mistress and what she could do, I could be moved on to another level of humiliation, I could be held in this accepting state, I could be taken down a long-term path, i could suffer further.  All these thoughts try to enter my mind but thinking just causes the previously confused state I found myself in, so I no longer think, i just accept my Mistresses desires, control and power.  I submit and call upon my mental strength to take me through any resultant experience if it arrives, learning and evolving with ever step.

Man Cave by Anonymous

Man Cave

“Dear, it’s time to get in the car”
“What?”
“The car Dear, it’s time to get in the car.”
“Why”
“Sweetie, I told you last week we were going somewhere today, you forgot already?’
“I must have.  Can it wait till tomorrow?  The big game is on in an hour.”
“Oh, you will not miss the game.  I promise.”
“The last time you told me to get in the car like this you took me for a colonoscopy!”
“I had to just get you there Honey, you would not take yourself.”
“What is it this time?  A root canal?”
“No, no…please relax.  Your blood pressure will go sky high!”
“I knew it, you ARE taking me to the Doctors!”
“Dear, it’s time to get in the car”
“You know I hate surprises.”
“I know Darling but I am sure you will like this one.”
“Ok, ok, but this had better be fast.  I don’t want to miss the kickoff”


“Where are we?”
“It’s a new place.  Just opened a month ago.  Everyone is raving about it.”
“By EVERYONE you mean your girlfriends, right?”
“Yes, but they tell me that their husband loved it too, once they got here.”


“Wow!  Look at the size of that TV!”
“See. I told you it was not a root canal”
“Are those designer beers in that case?”
“Yup”
“Look!  There’s Frank over there on that leather couch.  I work with him.’
“Well, he looks happy.”
“Hey Frank!  You gonna watch the game?”
“Absolutely buddy, right here.  I am here for the duration.”
“Hey Honey, do you mind if I stay and watch the game with Frank?  I am sure you can find something to do with your friends.  Think of it as a days’ vacation from me.”
“Well, if you are sure you want to stay. "
“That’s ok, there is always the after game wrap up if you are a while.”
“Then, I think I might just take you up on that offer.  Thank you Dear.”


“Hello Ma’am, are you dropping off or picking up?”
“Dropping off please.  My girlfriends just rave about this place.”
“Well, that is very nice to hear, let me tell you your options.”


“The basic fee is $60 for four hours. This includes snacks and soft drink or water etc.  It does not include alcoholic beverages of course. “
“Reasonable.”
Now if your man wants a beer or cigars there is an extra fee per item, I will give you our price list.”
“Thank you, I am sure he will want a beer or two.”
“If you need to board him over night he will have his own individual kennel, with his own 72 inch flat screen TV.  It is even equipped with a private urinal, right next to the tempurpedic cot so if he is the type that needs to get up during the night he won’t have to go more than a few inches!  It is one of the features that makes our place stand out from the competition”.
“Yes, better plan on an overnight stay.”
“The overnight includes a “manly-sized” dinner and a “lumberjack” breakfast.  Does he have any food allergies?
“Not that I know of.”
“The fee for a one night stay is $200.
“Wow, Isn’t that a little steep?”
“Well, yes Ma’am but it does include two meals, community play time, and nature walks.”
“Oh, okay, that works for me..”
“Aright, please fill out his form and include his doctor’s phone number, the name of an emergency contact and then sign it please.”.
“Thank you, I think this will work out very well, I will pay when I pick him up tomorrow?
"Of course, any extras will have been added to the bill by then.”
“See you tomorrow!”


“Oh!  Excuse me Ma’am I forgot to ask.  Do you want him bathed and groomed before you pick him up?”
“Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you again. Bye for now”

A Sticky Situation by Anonymous

A Sticky Situation


I was instructed by a lady to not to stroke my cock. I could only press and squeeze it. It was my training to think of something that I fantasize of. That is not what I will confess here, not my fantasizes, but my dreams. As I did not stoke my cock, I got no hand stimulated ejaculation. The Lady wanted update on my progression, and I told her that I keep on just squeezing the cock. She responded, she wants to know responses.

After days, and a week of no cumming, I felt the pressure build up in the system. Luckily was after about two weeks I dream in my dream that I was offered a gag that I did bite, it was sort of looking like a dog-bone. As I did bite it, it had two hanging leather pieces that automatically folded around my head, and straps that fixed it to my head. Suddenly I had no vision, no sight, and my hearing was suppressed. My hands got tied behind my back, and suddenly I felt my cock all stiff and a pressure building up, could not prevent an ejaculation. Felt the warm sticky cum in my pants, and bed. Ouch,  damn, it was only an dream, a fantasy dream, but oh so real in that moment. I so wish it was not just another dream.

Anonymous
Spring 2018

Monday, February 26, 2018

Anonymous Confession

In response to the #metoo inspired discussions hosted by Miss Eva in Nov/Dec 2017.


Miss Eva asked if all men are complicit in the societal abuse of women.

Yes, I am. I'm complicit. I have been and continue to be. I'm part of society, not apart from it. I can try to ignore rape culture, toxic masculinity, the sex-obsessed media that's forced down our throats day in, day out. The sort of messages that are designed to make women feel inadequate and men feel entitled.

But I'm not an island and ignoring it, dismissing it, laughing it off as locker room talk isn't going to make it go away.  Complicity comes in many forms.  I've never catcalled a woman, or made inappropriate advances. Frankly, I'm too uptight and introverted to even ask for the time of day most of the time, but that doesn't make me a sex equality hero.

I've not recognised such behaviour in the past, or worse, I've gone along with it. I'll give you an example. A woman whom I respect greatly (and I was line managing at the time) pointed out to me after a meeting that we'd both said the exact same thing. Only I, as a man, had been agreed with and that she, as a woman, had been quickly shut down. I hadn't noticed. I really hadn't noticed. Replaying the meeting in my head made me realise just how right she was (about the sexism. We already agreed she was right on the technical point she had been making). It stunned me. I tried to change things from that point forward, sometimes with more success than others.

It needs to be confronted, challenged, changed. I hope that with #metoo, women talking about their experiences provides the catalyst for men who care to take action. Because let's be clear, it's not women who need to change (yes there are some, but I'm allowed to generalise here). It's overwhelmingly men.  I don't deserve to be put on a pedestal for believing that men and women are of equal worth (not *exactly equal*, because that's a silly assertion) and that everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. Frankly, it's purely selfish - *I* want to be treated with dignity and respect. But who the f--- am I to insist on that treatment without the courtesy - nay the duty - to extend it to others?

This, and the events of the recent past, have shown me (not shocked me, it's too depressingly obvious that this has been and continues to be almost endemic) that I need to step up and challenge inappropriate behaviour. I won't always get it right, but I'll make the effort. And I don't expect praise or applause 'because I'm a man'.

So what do I expect?  I expect that you, regardless of your gender, just nod quietly, support people against the inevitable backlash, and commit to being more like them than you are now.

The Bell by Cam

Cam and Rob's companion stories are inspired by this image:
https://78.media.tumblr.com/052365ff1b7745657db57e00fd02ede0/tumblr_nx0y5ix9jQ1rispuco1_1280.jpg



She takes her phone from her ear and looks at it, smiling. Tapping the screen to end the call, she looks at us both.

"I know it's a bit short notice but I'm having a little soirée tonight, boys."

"Yes Mistress," we both chime in unison, looking up at her from our kneeling position.

"I'll need service," she says. "Which of you is going to do that for me?"

"I will, Mistress," replies my fellow boy, eagerly. Perhaps he's thinking he'll get played with. I bow my head, being a little too slow off the mark.

"Good. That's settled," she says. "Go get into your maid's outfit.". He crawls on all floors out to get dressed. I watch him go, grateful for not having to wear the maid's outfit, but regretting that I'm not going to be serving.

"What would you like me to do, Mistress?" I ask, nose scraping the floor. I'm hoping it will just be a caging for the night. Boring, but not too harsh a punishment for my lack of speed.

"Oh. Well," she chuckles. "I've been meaning to get my bell fixed. How can I summon the maid without a bell? But it's still not working." She taps a finger on her chin. "I shall need...a bell boy!"

I'm puzzled by this, so I kneel upright and look at her quizzically.

"A bell boy, Mistress?"

"Yes! Stay here. No, wait...go get yourself clean and meet me back here in five minutes."

I crawl out to the bathroom, prepare myself and head back to the lounge. Mistress comes in a moment later, carrying a large metal contraption; a heavy metal plate with a pole sticking up from it, some rope and a large metal ring, about 20cm across.  She noisily thumps the plate and pole down between the two sofas and throws the ring and rope down onto one of the chairs.

She pulls a large dildo out of one pocket, and a bottle of lube out of the other. "Lube up," she commands, throwing the bottle down to the floor in front of me. While I busy myself, she screws the dildo into the top of the pole and undoes a screw, dropping it down with a loud clang.

The dildo pole is now at a height I can squat onto. It's clear what Mistress has in mind, so I position myself over the pole and slowly squat down onto the dildo, easing it into my ass.

It feels good; well lubed, and I moan softly. My brief pleasure doesn't last long though, as she grabs the pole between my legs and starts to lift, forcing me to stand. As I reach my full height, she thrusts the pole up into me until there's no chance I can get myself off. Mistress locks off the pole with a screw, leaving me impaled on the pole in the middle of the room.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she chuckles. "It's a girl's night in. So you won't be allowed to see or hear." She turns tail and heads out of the room, leaving me there. Returning a few minutes later, she cuffs my legs, chaining them together, my hands, secured behind my back, before rolling foam plugs and pushing them into my ears.  They make a crackling sound as they expand, filling my ear canal, and muffling the outside world almost completely. The hood is next, blinding me and sealing me inside, I feel a little dizzy as the laces tighten round the back of my head.

Resigned to my evening, being put out as an ornament, I'm then shocked and aroused by the feeling of her hands around my balls, as the rope is tied around them, stretching them. I can feel some weight pulling the rope taut, pulling my balls down, making them swing gently between my legs. I'm puzzled as to what this is, but cannot ask.

I drift off, alone, into subspace, and time passes. After a while, I feel the heat and presence of people in the room, some 'accidentally' brushing past me, making my cock throb and stiffen. I wonder what's going to happen, and why I've been placed on display in the middle of the room.

Things get imperceptibly louder inside the hood, within the earplugs. Several people in the room. Suddenly, there's a sharp pain in my crotch. Someone pulled hard on the rope. I howl in pain. Moments later, I dimly hear the clink of glasses.

More time passes, terminated by another sharp pull, another yell. And again the muffled tinkle of glasses.

The evening is punctuated by yanks on my balls, my yells filling my hood. It slowly dawns on me.

I am the bell.

The Bell by Rob

“I will, Mistress!”



I throw my answer out before I have even registered what I am volunteering for. Service for a soiree? That sounds like an invitation for failure and punishment, while my fellow boy will almost certainly be the centre of attention. But it’s too late to change my mind now.



“Good, that’s settled,” Mistress says briskly. “Go and get into your maid’s outfit.”



I try to hide my wince as I bow my head and crawl across the floor to the bedroom door. Mistress has been perfecting my “maid’s outfit” for weeks, and it makes me blush every time I even think about it. Knowing that I will now have to wear it in front of her friends and my fellow boy makes me start to sweat before I’ve even left the room.



Sure enough, laid out on the bed is my uniform: a black garter belt with matching black stockings, two fine silver chains, my pink jewelled butt plug and – of course – my cock cage.



Reluctantly I start taking off my clothes, stripping down to my collar which Miss insists we wear at all times. Naked, I stare at the uniform – am I really going to wear this in front of a crowd of people!? With a jolt I realize that I am running out of time; the guests will be here in just a few minutes.



I start with the stockings; with the garter belt in place round my waist, I roll the first stocking and point my toes into it just as Miss has taught me. Then I glide it slowly up over my calf and past my knee, allowing the nylon to stretch easily over my skin. Even in spite of my fear about my imminent humiliation I revel in the smooth sensation; there is nothing quite so sensuous.



Once again reminding myself to focus, I clip the stockings to the garters and turn my attention to the chains. One end of each attaches to the ring at the front of my collar, leaving them hanging down across my chest, weighted by the clip attached to the other end. Then I take one of the clips – making sure not to tangle the chains – and attach it to the ring in my right nipple. The sudden weight of the chain on my pierced nipple makes me moan slightly, and my cock twitches. No! I have to put on my chastity cage in a moment, and I need it soft and manageable!



I try to distract myself as I clip the second chain to my left nipple ring and turn my attention to my plug. Bending over, I prepare myself and slowly push the well-lubed metal plug into my tight hole. My cock is instantly hard as my muscles stretch around it, filling me up, but I try not to think about how good it feels and concentrate on my breathing. Slowly my ass relaxes and the plug’s heavy shaft slides inside me with a rush of relief. The familiar feeling of fullness and tightness is almost overpowering as the jewel nestles between my ass cheeks.



I am just picking up my cage when the door opens and Miss walks in. I instantly drop to my knees and bow my head.



“Look at you,” she purrs. “You’ll look so pretty for my guests. I’m sure they’ll all want to have a good look at you. Are you ready to go out and greet them?”



Silently, head still bowed, I hold up the cage, knowing I am in trouble.



 Mistress’ tone is icy. “I see. What on earth have you been doing with your time? I gave you one task, and you haven’t even managed that. Well, hurry up and put it on!”



I scrabble to slide the cage into place; my cock definitely isn’t hard any more, and it slips easily into the metal sheath.



Miss stands over me and watches me fumble with the padlock. I click it close, blushing under her gaze. “Good. I don’t have time to punish your complacency now, but believe me I will deal with you later. Come with me.”



She leads me out of the bedroom and through the sitting room to the kitchen, ensuring she blocks my view of my fellow boy, who appears to be naked and is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.



Trays of glasses and snacks have been laid out on the kitchen counter, along with a wide variety of drinks. Miss explains that I am to remain in the kitchen at all times unless summoned by the bell; but when I hear it “ring” I am to come through, take the guests’ orders and bring them drinks and snacks as they desire.



Just as she finishes, the doorbell buzzes. Miss gives my uniform one last look over and appears satisfied. Nevertheless, her expression is still frosty. “You’re on thin ice, slut. Do not speak unless spoken to, do not make eye contact with anyone and do not drop anything! I expect you on your very best behaviour or there will be severe consequences.” With that, she leaves, and I am left alone on the kitchen floor.



Just a few seconds later, however, I hear my fellow boy’s voice scream in pain from the sitting room. For a second I do nothing, frozen by my relief that I am not the one currently in pain. Then something clicks; my fellow boy standing naked in the middle of the room… He’s the bell!



Quickly I grab a tray of drinks and carry them carefully out into the sitting room. Sure enough, one of Miss’s friends is standing with the foot on the bell-rope which dangles from my fellow boy’s balls. He is grimacing with pain, as much from the dildo which appears to be lodged deep inside his ass as from the tension on his balls. Suddenly my own plight doesn’t seem quite so bad!



I kneel before the new arrivals and hold up the tray, blushing furiously as they discuss my outfit while taking their drinks. Everyone comments on my stockings, and they argue amongst themselves whether my legs would look better shaved or not. Once everyone has a drink, Miss motions me away and I return to the kitchen, my face still bright red.



A couple of minutes later there is another yell, and I rush out again. Several more guests have arrived. This time, Miss invites them to examine me closer, and orders me to stand up for inspection. Firm hands bend me over so they can see my jewelled plug twinkle under the lights, and they take it in turn to flick the chains hanging from my nipples. Miss laughs, but I can see she is watching her guests closely to make sure they don’t take things too far. Even though I feel thoroughly exposed, I am very grateful for her concern.



Once again their attention drifts, however, and Miss orders me back to the kitchen.



And so the night goes on. I am repeatedly called back in by the screams of my fellow boy to serve food and drink – so often, in fact that I begin to feel really sorry for his over-stretched balls! Sometimes I think they are calling on me just for the fun of tugging on the bell rope. I am required to kneel as a foot-stool, to offer foot massages and just as an object of their jokes and laughter.



At last, soon after the clock chimes midnight, Miss summons me one last time, and points to the floor in front of my fellow boy. Her friends gather round as she thanks them for coming.



“And now,” she says with a wicked grin on her face, “I think we need to reward my faithful bell for all his hard work tonight.”



She lifts my chin and looks me straight in the eye.



“You know what I want, so untie him and show my friends how well you can suck a cock.”

The Real Story of Valentine's Day by Rorke

What you are about to hear is the untold story of the real origin of valentine's day; the actual events which led to the card and flower frenzy which lovers celebrate all over the known world on the 14th of February each year.

Now, this humble historian is aware that most will be familiar with the tale of Saint Valentine, the priest who performed banned wedding ceremonies of roman soldiers against the laws of Rome and was killed for this.

However, this is not the case. Just like evolution (which is quite literally another story) time and retelling as corroded the facts. You see, dear readers, his name wasn't Saint Valentine but sub Valentine.

Sub Valentine, or Valentine to his friends, lived around 350 years ago in a shared flat somewhere in the North West of England. He was not to know but he was infact a direct descendant of the first submissive male and thus harbored feelings of subservience towards Women which was unbecoming of the times.

Indeed it was difficult for males born with the submissive allele during these dark ages...named not for lack of ample lighting but for the incorrect assumptions of male superiority...and even speaking of a Woman in charge could land one in rather hot water with the feds.

This is were our hero enters.

One morning, while going about his business he came across the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Out on her own, he wondered if she was lost as apparently a women couldn't circumnavigate the slightly curving high street unchaperoned. But as he approached his natural subbie-sense engaged and her confident manner indicated she was certainly not in need of assistance.

Of course being in her presence it was a matter of seconds before he was kneeling before her and cleaning the grime of the industrial revolution off her shoes with his handkerchief...

Next thing he knows...he is laying in a cell. It turns out a policeman had spotted him and thrown him in jail charged with 'crimes of submission'. During his stay, he was subjected to all kinds of exorcisms and was read the riot act on men are not submissive countless times. But it was too late. The very next morning he started a revolution from his bed.

He went and found the Lady in question again, visiting her house in secret and together, along with her maid, Sir Francis the Sissy (who you may know as the founder of pet play) they set about creating a network of Femdom resistance to overthrow the ideology of male dominance.

Back in those brutal times; Ladies and subs; one couldn't just post on facebook...there were no computers for a start....so Valentine and co had to be clever. He hid messages in cards and offering flowers or chocolates to a Lady became a way of kneeling in public without arousing suspicion. Buying gifts was the start of the splinter group 'Findom' and making up cheesy rhymes or poems was a subtle means of humiliation.

Throughout the next few years, the movement grew exponentially as the ranks swelled with Dominants and submissives alike. With the movement becoming more overt, dungeons were invented as secret places to practice kinks while undercover collaring ceremonies were performed all over the land.

But with increased awareness came increased heat from the authorities and Valentine was arrested on numerous occasions. Each time refusing to denounce his true feelings and leading to longer stays in prison.

Unfortunately, Valentine and Mistress Sydney were deported to Australia for 'sustained shenanigans' ten years later. After a long voyage, and also the first ever period of chastity, they arrived on the 14th of February 1700. But it is not an unhappy ending, as Femdom flourished..it turns out the unwitting authorities had already provided a vast array of bondage equipment!

So on Valentine's day, when you write that card or get those flowers for your loved one, spare a thought for the brave D/s couple who fought against ignorance to allow us, Domme or sub, the freedom to worship or be worshiped and live as the cave-people; Domeena and Rorkus; intended.

Confession by Anonymous

Fantasies and desires..

I would have to stick to the fantasies and desires since i cannot possibly write a good erotica or poem. I have this fantasy to be with a woman whom i could just adore, pamper and worship in a D/S setting. I have my guards up all the time and it is really hard for me to let those guards down, be vulnerable to feelings such as passion and intimacy. BDSM comes to the rescue here. BDSM helps me to let go. I imagine myself to worship a lady, not caring about anything, letting down all my guards, exposing my core to her, taking a leap of faith, fall on my knees before her, rest at her feet, treat her like a goddess/a queen/ a savior who would allow me to come outside of this shell that has been building up and hardening over such a long time as a result of rational reasoning, as a defense mechanism to not allow anyone get into my head. But now i feel i have lost so much in the process too, i feel like i have devoid myself from the pleasures of intimacy and passion, the pleasure to love. I want to act as a human now, not a machine. i deserve to feel the intimacy, the desire, the passion, the trust. And i want her to help me break those shells, help me to be vulnerable enough for those emotions to penetrate.
I would want her to grab me by hair and slap my face and spit on it, grab a whip and tear apart. i need to soften up, i need o let go. And a broken body is a good start. She also need to break into my mind then, humiliate me, make me worship her shoes, make me her whore, chew into my flesh, get a strapon and fuck me .. break my ego, make me realize i don't have to torture myself from trying to be at top of things all the time, break me to reach my core, help me to express. then i could tell her how much i love her, she could hold me, i could rest my head in her hand and weep, and i need to weep, i don't remember when was the last time i wept. i could kiss her feet in devotion, i would hold her so tight, i would kiss her so deep.. i would feel such a rush of emotions. The devotion, the intimacy, the passion, the pain, the trust. She could hold me, comfort me, kiss me, listen to my confessions i would never share with anyone. she could tell me i can trust her and put my emotional investment in her, she could put a collar around my neck and tell me " see i got you, you would not be lost". i would be so aroused so messed up with experiencing so many emotions. I could be playing with myself while i cry in her lap. Some times to build an old wall, its better to shatter the old one.

Imagine by Lady Karrie


Imagine this….
(Gently close your eyes now)

Imagine
My red silk robe draped artfully, a hint of skin
just a glimpse of nipple aggressively piercing through fabric
You can just about smell my glistening cunt

Imagine this…..
(feel my soft breath on your throat now)

Imagine.
My fingers enticing my cunt lips to swell and
My clit to pulsate in need
My cunt to quiver and moisten
For the ache, the hunger. The need

Imagine this….
(stroke your cock slowly for me, that’s right use a hard grip now.)

Imagine.
My fingers thrusting hard and deep
Your tongue pulled firmly onto my clit
Pressing your face deeper harder into my cunt
Smothering you in juices. Can you breathe? I wonder

keep lapping, keep licking , keep flicking..

Imagine this….
(that your stupid fucking flaccid cock could satisfy me now)

Imagine
You watching him as he does precisely as instructed
Places his hard cock at the entrance to my cunt instead of yours
Strokes it back n forth across my cunt lips  - just as I like it
Teasing. Tantalizing.
Before feeding me his hunger.

I will look you in the eye as his thrusts make me cum

Imagine that
You stupid cunt