Thursday, August 29, 2019

By Anonymous

m 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 .......

Confession by Cam

You never really know what someone is like until you meet them.  Yes, we'd met in SL, chatted in text and in voice, swapped pictures - all of that.  You think you know them, but you don't really.  There's always room for doubt; for things unseen.  Not lies or half-truths but omissions.  Little snippets of character or appearance; mannerisms or ways of being, that might put one off.  They say never meet your heroes but if you don't of course you'll never know that they're really just normal people - or the most incredible person.  You have to scratch that card and hope it comes up with bells and not lemons.

Seeing Mistress in that secreted-away café in a Holborn side street for the first time washed away any doubts.  Her smile.  Bell. Her gentle persuasiveness. Bell. And the effortless style of her clothes.  Bell. We sat and chatted - it was weird, meeting someone for the first time that you know so well, so strange yet so familiar.  She asked me if I still wanted to come with her.  I agreed and we walked back to her flat via the shops.  I've been completely hers ever since.

I still look back to that meeting sometimes with fondness - the cafe isn't there any more; well, it is, but it's a different company now.  Some things don't change though.  Her smile, her gentle persuasiveness, and her effortless style.  Nor does my love for her.  Except that it ages well, like a good wine.  Better every year and well worth drinking deeply..

Carbs by Lady Karrie

I am feeling in a really fucked off mood tonight. Oh I swore, too fucking bad. if you had the day i had you would be fucking swearing too or standing in the middle of a busy street, screaminnnnng until the ambulance took you away. to Fuck knows where. So if you are offended slip the fuck away.

It started around 8am,  I left for my first business meeting, makeup beautifully set and hair perfectly blow dried, I slipped out of the apartment to be met with a hurricane of wind and rain.  As I tried to hide my face from the onset a rancid takeaway wrapper blew into my face blurring my vision and my six inch heels stepped into the leftover kebab and fries that was splattered on the pavement. And yeah I feel flat down on my arse. I was fucking furious sitting there stinking of chilli and fuck knows what dripping down my hair. I didn't even notice the split in my Chanel black jeans until after someone in the meeting quietly mentioned it!

At lunch my fucked up arse of an assistant brought me the wrong sandwich even although i had clearly said it was my no carbs day! I had to fucking eat it too. Ok he brought me alternative but when its right in front of you, you arent going to say oh no i don't want the chicken and cheese on Rye ill just have the pissed off looking limp salad are you! Fucking imbecile. Ill sack him tomorrow I cant afford my diet ruined by a fucking clown of a man.

And of course because I had the bread i thought fuck it and sent him out for fat coke and donuts.

And that is why I am totally fucked off today! Ruined my whole fucking diet Monday once more! I cant stop thinking of that idiot feeding me a pile of fucking fat.

And yes I know I shouldnt play when Im angry but do you know what you can fuck off too. Im not in the mood.

Hes waiting for me now.......hes gonna suffer.

"John why the fuck are you not kneeling" I punch him to the floor and kick him hard in the balls. "Answer me cunt"

No response, What the fuck. I get enough ignorance of men at work I am sure as fuck not putting up with it here as well.

I grab his hair tight and pull his head down whilst bringing a knee up into his face.

He squeals.
I am not ready to laugh as I normally would.. hes just annoying me more.

I slap his face hard and scream...thick spittle flies onto his face.."One last chance or I will fucking cut you deep"

"Sorry sorry Mistress you told me that I wasn't to kneel today until you told me. I am so sorry Mistress Very sorry"

For fuck sakes His fucking pathetic sorry sorry was really irritating I cant stand whining.

I grab my knuckle dusters from the nearby chair and smash his face making sure I make contact with his hooked nose. The blood soothes me slightly. His body crumbling to the floor doesn't. Fucking wimp!

"Get the fuck up you spineless little worm " As I drag him to the corner crucifix, he squeals like a pathetic piece of pork. I roughly affix his restraints, pinch his nipples ruthlessly till he screams then I bend for an instant to lick a  delicious trail of blood that oozes into his soft mouth, "Like blood on snow" I whisper.

 I wink and somewhat excitedly, reach for the bullwhip and begin the release.

All that pent up anger, all that fury inside me fuel my game. I dont want stripes I need welts. Ragged. Unkept splattered weals scarring his pale freckled skin. As the sound of the whip cracks steadily through the humid air my cunt begins to drip its delight.

When I am out of breath, when my arm hurts so bad that I cant lift it anymore I awake from the frenzy and am almost startled by the sight before me.

Releasing his restraints I rip my pants off hurriedly and smother his face in my wet cunt.

"Get one hand on your maggot cock and hold it there. No wanking! With the other start fingering me deep. All four fingers. Push them in as far as you can, then deeper, Get your tongue spread out flat on my clit none of that fairy tip shit or doing the alphabet you arse. Thats it Now lap and fuck until I tell you to stop"

Afterwards, I call him to me.

Hes all mushy now, I love you this I love you that. I have only one last instruction.

"Cunt, go down to the shop and get me some Carb-free, Gluten free, Lactose free, Vegan caramel swirl ice cream. Dont forget the flake."




A Guessing Game by Jack

A Guessing Game

Jack's world was black.  A deep, deafening blackness that consumed him entirely - leaving him completely vulnerable.  Not the familiar greyness of a blindfold, where faint shafts of light always seemed to find a way to  sneak around the edges and relieve his deprivation, even if only for a second.  No.  This was a blackness like no other he’d ever experienced.  A blackness so dark it made him truly consider if light had ever existed at all, or if it had just been a fragment of a dream he’d had once?

That would be the black-out contacts Lady Peregrine had told him to put in of course.  Thin films of pure sensory deprivation sitting over his eyes and denying him the fundamental right of light.

Jacks head turned suddenly, hearing movement to his left.  He recognised it instantly, the light footsteps of bare feet.  No.  The light footsteps of two sets of bare feet.  It was amazing how much more detail one could attain from other senses when one was taken away.

“Hello Jack,” said a sweet high voice to his left.  A soft voice, gentle even, but laced with strands of cruel intent.  He could almost hear the malicious smile playing at the corner of those soft lips.

“Hello Lady Peregrine,” replied Jack softly.  His heart had started to quicken, a reaction to her voice he’d never been able to master.  At the same time he started to grow; his cock instantly thickening and lengthening despite a complete lack of contact.  His body had a life of its own around her.

Lady Peregrine gazed down at her latest boy and smiled to herself.  He really had been quite the surprise!  So unpromising at first, full of arrogance and false pretences.  So close to being discarded.  And yet something had caught her eye.  Something had piqued her interest.  And after slowly stripping back his layers like peeling an onion, she’d finally came to find a person she actually liked.  No.  Not even liked.  Adored!  It had been far from an easy journey though - Let's just hope he was worth the effort!  He’d certainly proved entertaining so far, but this would be his biggest test to date. 

Jack was bound, naked of course, to a simple wooden chair she’d placed in the middle of the room.  His arms were secured tightly behind his back and his legs spread and bound to the legs of the chair.  Exposing him completely and leaving him vulnerable to her every whim.  And her whims were not always gentle.  She admired the rope work for a quick moment, it really was very good!  Glancing down at Cam by her side she smiled fondly.

“Excellent work on the rope Cam,” she praised, letting a hand find Cam’s hair and lazily running through it.  “Have you been practicing by yourself puppy?”

“Yes Mistress,” replied Cam gently, trying not to let the pride of her praise show too much.

Lady Peregrine smiled one last time down at her love before turning back to Jack.  Her eyes narrowed slightly, twinkling suddenly with malevolent intent.  This was going to be fun!  She started walking around him slowly, admiring her newest boy from every angle as she gently tapped the toy in her hand against her thigh.  She knew the sound of every step would ratchet the tension and anticipation building up in poor little Jack until he was approaching breaking point.  And she hadn’t even touched him yet!  After a full circuit of detailed and slow inspection she stopped directly in from of him and leant forward slowly until her face was right next to his.  Her hand found one cheek as her lips found the other, planting a slow soft kiss at the top of his jaw line.  Jack sighed deeply, nerves momentarily washed away.  And as he sighed he felt her pull back and then drag something soft and slightly damp across his chest twice.  It all happened so fast he could barely register what had happened before he heard her speak again.

“So.  Petunia,” she started, a gentle giggle at her pet name for him doing nothing to hide her excitement.  “You and I are going to play a little game.  It’s a simple game really.  Very simple in fact!  I have written a number on your chest.  And because I’m kind I’m going to tell you that number is something between one and a hundred.  Now all you have to do is guess it!  Simple yes?”

Jack knew this would be far from simple.  The iron malice in her voice was evidence enough of that.  But he knew what was expected by now.  And even if he didn’t the pure excitement racing through him would have directed him down the correct path anyway.

“Yes Miss”

Lady Peregrine grinned wickedly. 

“And if YOU hadn’t begged me to try out these contacts Jack, you could just look down and tell me!  But alas… You were so keen to try them weren’t you?”

“Yes Miss,” repeated Jack sighing inside.  Miss had a way of turning things he’d asked for against him.  Those thoughts however were suddenly interrupted by the introduction of a new noise.  A soft, crackling noise that hummed right next to his ear.

“Oh, and a few extra rules Jack,” continued Lady Peregrine, her voice dropping soft and dangerous.  “For every guess you get wrong, I’m going to shock you somewhere.  Somewhere different each time.  Somewhere… Fun!  And it’s going to hurt!   I’m not going to pretend to you that it isn’t…”

Jacks heart thundered in his chest, a cold nervous sweat breaking out on his chest as he clenched and unclenched his fists in anticipation of the pain about to come.  “Yes Miss” he managed to get out.  But barely.

“One final thing Jack…” continued Lady Peregrine.  “I know you boys think you’re clever.  And I’m sure clever little you will be thinking the longer you take between each guess means the longer you get to recover.  Yes?  Well no Dear.   Cam is about to wrap his lips around that gorgeous cock of yours and start sucking.  He’ll only stop between the time you make a guess and the time I either tell you it’s correct or shock you.  EVERY other second his mouth will be bobbing up and down on that beautiful cock of yours.  And I promise  you Jack you do NOT want to cum without permission, which you most certainly do NOT have!  If you cum before you find the right number, the pain you’ll feel will be ten times worse and ten times more prolonged than what is about to happen!  Understand Duckie?”

Dread filled every single molecule of Jack’s being. 

“Yes Miss” he whispered. 

“Good!  Cam, begin”

Jack felt a set of warm lips wrap around the tip of his cock, but before they could sink down he made his first guess, keen not to let Cam get him anywhere near the edge before he guessed correctly.

“Seventeen please Miss!”

The lips quickly withdrew, leaving Jack alone in his dark little world again.  A world full of nervous desperate anticipation.  One second passed.  Then another.  Then an eternity, or perhaps another second, before…

“AARRGHHHHHHHHHHHH!” 

White hot pain seared through Jack, lightning bolts of pure agony driving through the inside of his left thigh and obliterating his world of black into tiny shards of torment.  His mind instantly dissolved, pain erasing rational thought for the briefest of seconds and replacing it with pure primal reflex.  Instantly the lips returned to his cock, wrapping themselves around him hungrily and driving down on him before he could even think of another number, his mind still a fog of pain.

“Nope.  Try again dear.  There’s only another 99 possible options…

Life and Death on the Ocean Waves by Mark

When the card came in the post, I was amazed. I did not even remember entering the competition. But first prize was a two-week cruise on a swanky ocean liner and I had won it. I had to make hurried arrangements, but was there at the dock, on the day, and climbed on board. But that is just me. As I often tell the chicks who work for me, I am an alpha dog. Good things happen for me. And if they cannot take the hint, they pretty soon find themselves back on the unemployment line. I mean, fuck #metoo, am I right or am I right?

At the docks, I will be honest in saying that the number of hot chicks filtering up the gangway, who must have also won the prize, just made things seem so much sweeter. I wondered if they had any better luck than me in remembering what the hell this competition was that we had apparently entered and won.

The first evening was the Captain’s Dance – and I admit I was surprised the Captain was a chick too: I said that to her, and she just smiled. I suppose she got that a lot. I mean, what are the chances, right? At the bar before the dance, I found myself spoiled for choice: I reckon there were two women for every guy. If I could remember what competition I had entered, I would enter every week. I chatted with a couple of really hot girls, but there must have been something wrong with the booze from the free bar, because after one drink, the room began to spin. Which is really odd, because as an alpha dog I can usually drink the whole night long. A couple of the female crew members helped me down a corridor, and I vaguely remember being surprised that in front of me there was a line of guys, all supported to the left and right by other female crew members. We stumbled in a kind of drunken conga-line into the main dance hall. There was a glitter-ball, but apart from that it was nothing like any dancefloor I had seen before. Across the room were St Andrew’s crosses, padded benches with chains, dog-cages, and chains hanging from the ceiling with cuffs attached. Around the dancefloor was an audience of the women, including those I had seen board the ship and I even spotted a couple of women I had chatted to in the bar.

Things were hazy, but I could roughly make out the women who had supported the guys in front of me fixing them to crosses or shoving them into cages. The women in the audience were roaring appreciation. Then I felt the two women who had helped me from the bar fixing cuffs around my wrists, and moaned as an invisible force jerked the chains tight, lifting me onto my toes. I was spinning around, suspended from the chains, and could see that the women in the audience were moving onto the floor, picking up whips and paddles from the tables around the edge of the room, Soon the dancefloor was rocking with the sound of men yelping and crying. And then as I spun around again, I found myself eye-to-eye with the Captain. She smiled.

‘You are the one who thinks women should not be in authority, is that right?’

‘I think I have been misquoted!’ I stammered. But she reached out her left hand and, pulling my shirt from my torso, grabbed one of my nipples and squeezed hard. My yelps joined the chorus of cries from the other guys in the room. She reached down to my cock and squeezed, and I felt myself grow stiff.

‘Good’, she said. ‘A pain bunny. We like pain bunnies.’

Her mand moved and curled around my balls and squeezed tight. I screamed, but the sound was lost in the noise from all of the other guys’ yells and in the laughter of the women who surrounded them.

‘In two weeks, I am going to the police’ I yelled. The Captain frowned.

I tried to cry out more threats, but as I opened my mouth she shoved a ball gag into it. In the flickering light from the glitter-ball, I saw her receive a whip from one of her crew members. She flexed it in her hands, watching me curiously.

‘Two weeks? Oh dear’, she said. ‘A mis-print in your invitation. You were specially selected. We decided that in your case, there was no need for you to even enter the competition – we entered your name on your behalf. But for you, this cruise lasts two years.’ She smiled sadly. ‘Unfortunately, somehow I do not think you are going to last the whole 24 months.’

As the first blows from the whip landed, the light from the glitter-ball, and the noises of the screaming men around me, faded into nothingness and the last conscious thought I had was an echo of the Captain’s voice:

‘Somehow I do not think you are going to last the whole 24 months’.

Songbirds by Mark

So I read recently in the papers about this guy. He had been deaf all his life, had never since childbirth heard a sound. But modern science had invented this new thing: a cochlear implant. And he was one of the guinea pigs. So they fitted this device, and all of a sudden, he could hear. He explained to the reporter how his world had expanded. He could hear what his wife’s voice sounded like. He could hear his children’s voices. He could hear music. It was as if the world had turned from black and white to technicolour.

One day he was dropping his son off at school. As he got out of the car, he heard this really high pitched sound. But it was not whiny or screechy. Instead, surprisingly, it sounded really nice. He asked his son what it was. His son looked at him.

‘Dad, it is Springtime. The songbirds are singing’.

I smiled when I read this. I went through dark times myself, when the world seemed to be monochrome instead of colour. But then, I met my Mistress, and all of a sudden, I too could hear the songbirds sing.

Mon Capitaine by Anonymous

Mon capitaine

Finally, I had managed to achieve one my dreams, and I had bought a 40 feet sail boat I had laid my eyes on for a lot of time. Consequently, my weekends were devoted to bringing whoever may require that around the bay, giving them board and lodging into the boat itself. What I was earning from that was more than enough to cover the maintenance costs.
That week, I had received a strange reservation mail. It was signed by a Lady Mary, and she had booked the board for the following weekend. I quickly replied affirmatively, but I was feeling something was wrong and was keeping me in apprehension.
On Friday morning I arrived at the jetty, and began working on the boat, to make it ready for the weekend. I used to keep it tidy, so I had not to work that much. I was waiting for this Lady Mary, but at the agreed time nobody was in sight, so I thought it might have been just a joke. I was wrong.
I was below deck, tidying some stuff up, when I heard a calling voice: “Hello, is there anybody in there?” I got out, and suddenly I was blown away. A woman, more or less my age, was smiling to me, apparently very confident, with a small luggage on the ground by her. Her appearance was very elegant: her long hair was up behind her neck and a long light shirt allowed me to foresee a well proportionated breast. A black creased skirt put in evidence two wonderful tanned legs, and at her feet a pair of high heeled black pumps. There was definitely something familiar, but I was not able to find out what it was. I was a bit bothered by the lack of an excuse for being so late. After a brief introduction, I offered her to jump on my boat, gently asking her to remove her shoes before doing that (any kind of shoes were just forbidden over the boat). And it was here I clearly got that would have been a different weekend. She looked at me, smiling, and firmly replying “I take my shoes off only when I say that. Bring me to my cabin, please”.
I didn’t answer back, and maybe that was a big mistake. I grabbed her luggage and led the way to her cabin, which I showed her. I told her we would have set sail quite immediately (we were late, after all), and she just nodded. I came on deck, finished the last little chores, hoisted sails and set course into the deep. The sun was high but enjoyable, and the breeze very pleasant.
After a couple of hours sailing, the main sail well taut and the pace very firm, Lady Mary showed up from the main hutch. She was wearing nothing but a black bikini. “I guess this boat is provided with an autopilot, isn’t it?” – “It is, Lady Mary. Why?” – “I need your help, if you don’t mind, and I would hate to get adrift because of that” – “Just a sec, Lady Mary”.
After some minutes, I was in her cabin. There was a mess, actually, and she told me “My shoes got stuck under the bed, and I get sick if I bow down. Take them for me, please”. I was about answering back and telling her that was not the task of the Captain, but I held back, I knelt down to get her shoes, when I felt her hands on my shoulders and on my head, as if she wished to force me even more down.
On the spot, I did not react. I was clearly not at ease, but something coerced me not to go against her. “My dear Paul, don’t you think this is the exact place you belong?” Paul? How did she know my second name? That discovered a heavy veil on old times…”…and, moreover, I should take offense, don’t you agree? I would have thought you should have recognised me…”
I tried to stand up, but she prevented me from doing that. “No, my dear, I told you. That’s your place. Actually, as you are there, why don’t you greet me the way a lady should be greeted? Come on, I am sure you can make it…”. Her hand pushed my head down, slowly and no hesitation, until my lips were right above her bare feet, toward which I was strangely and inexorably attracted. A shiver run along my spine as my lips brushed against her toes, and at the same time, slowly yet firmly, her nails were caressing my back, leaving a red sign on my skin. Until her hand reached over my ass, slapping it hard twice.
“I think we will spend a nice weekend together…A Lady and a Captain…mon capitaine….or should I say…a Lady and her cabin-boy…..hahahaha….Get out of here now, and make sure dinner is served at nine on the dot”
I rushed out of the cabin, flushed and confused, almost caught unaware by what had just happened, and in the following hours I tried to be distracted by taking care of the boat pace. At the right time, I stopped the boat, furled the sails (we were very far from the coast), dropped an anchor, and started to prepare dinner. I obviously furnished the table for two, trying not to forget any detail, and I mentally reviewed all the food that, refined as it could be, was, of necessity, limited by the pantry size.
At five to nine, after I changed and worn an elegant t-shirt with some nice pants, I knocked at the door of Lady Mary’s cabin, announcing dinner was ready. She told me to wait for her at the table. I got on the deck and, as I was checking everything was at its right place, Lady Mary came out, smiling as she noticed my evident amazement. She was stunning, not a diva, rather very elegant and refined. She looked at me and said “You set for two. Is there somebody here I am not aware of?” – “The second place is for the Captain.” – “Mon capitaine, it is clear you have not fully understood. You are going to eat on the floor, what and if I allow. Very likely, very little”.
The situation was getting ugly. Pretending she was just joking, I accommodated her and started to serve her food, but strangely I didn’t put anything on my dish: Her strategy was working. I just told her “Lady Mary, once again I would ask you to take those shoes off. Heels are the most noxious things for boats.
In response, she told me to get closer and to bow down, and, quite unexpectedly, slapped me hard on my face. “Kneel down, mon capitaine”
I obeyed. Something made me do it. “The most noxious, eh? Good, slide your hands under my heels, so there won’t be any problem…”
I found myself reaching out and Lady Mary, without any uncertainty, dug her heels on my palms, causing an intense pain. “Good, mon capitaine, let’s spare the boat…”, and she dug even more, until a feeble lament got out of my mouth. In the meantime, she had begun savouring the food, clearly satisfied with it. “This quiche is very tasty, mon capitaine, maybe you are a better cook than a seaman, what do you think?” and she sneered while, her heels into my open palms, I was blushing and telling her “What do you want from me, Lady Mary?”
“What do I want? Mon capitaine, I am disappointed you don’t remember. You were not extremely kind, when we first met. Maybe I was a bit different, and for certain I was not wearing such heels….hahahahaha…but it was me, and you were not respectful as you should have. Time to pay for that. And by ‘pay’ I mean I will fuck your mind…(and not just that)…as I wish, and you will be thanking me for everything I give you. Is that clear, mon capitaine?” While she talked, she was smiling and merciless digging Her heels, so that I was frightened she could make a hole. A new Jesus Christ.
As far as possible, I looked up, and my gaze had to be a very suffering one, because she smiled sweetly and told me “Mon capitaine, what’s up? Something is not good? Oh, yes, I almost forgot, you must be hungry too…” She took a long carrot, looking at it for quite some time, and all of sudden she spat on it, a rivulet of saliva slowly trickling on it. Then she grabbed my hair harshly, hurting me. “Open your mouth”. I was exhausted by the tension, my hands still under her heels, my head and neck so strained and my face accessible to her…I obeyed without complaining, and she shoved the carrot in, pushing till I was almost throwing up, lovingly saying “I care for you, strange as that may sound to you. I won’t starve you. This carrot will be your dinner, but tomorrow morning I want to see it still in your mouth, or you will see. Thank me now, as I dressed it just for you.”
I was not able to talk, as the carrot was well invading my mouth, and so I just nodded. It was not a good move. Two violent slaps hit my cheeks, and she said sweetly “A more sincere word of thanks would have been appreciated…but it doesn’t matter…I will have to think about something else” She sat down with all her weight, making me moan for the pain…and quickly dropped my pants, my bare ass fully exposed now. She took a second carrot, bigger than the first one, but she didn’t spit this time and pushed it with no hesitation right into my ass, making me shout again (shouting with a carrot full in mouth I quite ridiculous, I say) and almost faint for the pain. “Wasn’t that good of me, mon capitaine? Oh….I forgot to spit to lube it…well, never mind, carrots are good after all, aren’t they?” She laughed wickedly and whispered “Yes, I think you will be Captain TwoCarrots from now on. The notorious Captain TwoCarrots, very famous all over the seven seas…The perfect name for you…and welcome into your nightmare weekend, Captain Two Carrots…..hahahahaha….”