Submitted by: Vittore Orsini
Through the darkness of the room, their gazes casted towards the door, the flicker of light faintly tracing the wooden floor. the click of heels, raising their anticipation, as a shadow appears over the distant, line of light. agony, ensues as the door is opened with calm and ease, a small cheeky smile meeting their lifting heads, as their bodies remain bound to the bed. She approaches their naked frames with a delicate glide while watching their muscles grow tense within their bindings. Thoughts, linger between them from hours of solititude, having been left after whispers of eroticism that taunted their skin. She learns towards Vittore, running her nails with a caressing brush behind his ear while speaking in a coy whisper. His chest, lifts with a collecting breath as the words drift through his mind. His heart, growing with each pattern her nail paints upon his skin as his shaft strains upon its cage.
Sensually, she lifts her tender frame from the edge of the bed, the strike of a long match echoing in their ears, the flickering dance of a candles flame floating on the maroon walls. With the room, subtly illuminated, she returns to the edge of the bed before leaning over vittore once more. She places the key within the lock of his chastity device, letting the chain pool on his lap as a coy giggle passes through her smile. the curls of his chest hair, lift with excitement as his body develops a hue of passion before watching her depart towards Paul. With a delicate hold, she cups pauls face within her hands before taking his lips in a lingering kiss that taunts the tip of his tongue. A short pause follows in the air while she moves with a glide across his cheek towards his ear for a low whisper.
Her hands, begin to move along his arms, towards his bindings, loosening each. She climes over him, her dress, resting above his pauls chastity cage as the echo of vittore's chastity lock being released fills the room. Vittore, feeling the pressure being released, gasps with a grunting moan before his bindings are loosened for him to crawl out of.
Leaving the bed, she finds her cushioned chair in the corner of the room, her eyes watching the dance of the flickering candles roam their naked skin as Vittore moves towards paul. His hands, weaving through paul's hair as he twists his palm into a tight knot that pulls paul towards himself with a passionate embrace that vibrates across his skin. Vittore's shaft, glistens as the head bulges against his skin while drawing himself to his knees and dragging pauls head down towards his cock. With a faint touch of pauls lips, he thrusts forward and tightens his fingers as a grunt of exhileration fills the room.
As he draws near, he pulls himself back, to the breaking suckle of pauls lips before moving his body along the creeking bed. Vittores hands, loosening their hold of paul's hair, moving towards his ankles to release their bindings with a passionate tear. He takes hold of his arms, tossing paul's frame along the bed, forcing his hands to land with a last grasp of balancing his falling frame onto the satin sheets while his eyes meet their Mistress gaze. Vittore's, tall frame, begins to lean over pauls back as his fingers sink within paul's hair to encourage his body into an arching bow while Vittore's voice runs across his shoulder “spread your knees apart, bitch boy” his own legs, encouraging them to drift with tapping pressure as his shaft runs across pauls naked thighs.
Reaching between their bodies, vittore's hand grasps his shaft, putting it at the edge of pauls behind before applying a pressure from the weight of his frame that sinks his cock into the welcoming depths of the pauls body. A grunt of passion, leaves vittore's lips mixed with a grunt of surprise, from pauls, as his shaft hugs the plastic cage, surrounding his cock. Vittore's body, leaning up in the room, his hips descending slowly towards Pauls while their gazes fix upon their Mistress.
Vittore's hands, clenching onto the flesh of paul's side's as he begins to balance paul's body while a rhythem develops to his thrusts. His voice, reaching out towards paul with an echo of animalistic passion, released from the constrains of his own cage “thrust back, thrust back bitch boy” the growl, growing towards the end of his words, bounce upon the walls as the bed springs to life from their joined bodies.
While Vittore's hair, hangs over his eyes, curled from the sweat of his passion, he looks towards his Mistress with a beseeching plead that carries an echo of his lustful state “please, may I have an orgasm Mistress” the temp of their bodies, looses barely a noticable beat as his fingers sink deeper into pauls sides. Her lingering contemplation, raising a blush across his skin as he tries to restrain himself while delving deeply into the lustful thrill of the boi before himself.
As pauls fingers dig into the satin sheets, his mixture of emotions muffled by the sheets of the bed, her voice replying in a coy tone “yes”. the rapid increase to the tempo of paul
s body being plunder, suddenly filled with a warm spurt of cum that flows freely...Vittore's frame, leaning over Pauls back, his teeth biting in his shoulder with a faint marking forming upon his skin as his heavy breath floats past his lips. Their gazes, lifting as his shaft subsides towards their Mistress. Each, leaving the bed to her curling gesture, crawling towards her feet at either side to find their collars attached to a metal chain that leads to the armrest of her chair. The tip of her shoe, resting upon pauls caged shaft and vittores semi-erect shaft, applying pressure to both that leaves their muscles tense to her whims.
Reaching down, her hands wrap around either of their chins, as a smile plays across her lips while she whispers in a low tone “blow out the candles”
Sunday, November 22, 2009
In Dreams
Written by: Daniel Ash
In Dreams
Originally I was waiting to write my confession this week until today (Saturday) so that I could detail whatever happened at the play party Ma'am and I went to last night. And while we did play there, something else happened last night and I've decided to write about that instead. I remembered a dream.
I don't normally remember dreams. I usually wake up slowly and my dreams dissipate from my mind like grains of sand on a windy day, but in this case I must have been jolted awake and the dream I was having was still very fresh in my mind. And completely erotic.
It probably helps that it's been a while since my last orgasm, AND that she had me sleeping in cuffs and a cock ring. I'm sure during times like these I have a lot of arousing dreams, but again, I remember so few that this was abnormal.
I'm writing about the dream instead of the scene last night because while some may enjoy the description of what actually happened t the play party, Ma'am might enjoy the description of my dream more. She knows what happened last night already, and learning what my unconscious mind digs up when I'm not in any control of it might be more entertaining and illuminating for her. Plenty of opportunities to write about scenes at parties later.
Please allow me to describe the dream. Analyze if you wish. Please keep in mind this was a dream, so if it seems nonsensical at times or seems to jump around, that's because it's how I remember it.
I was myself in the dream, but not myself. That is, it was definitely me, with my body and my desires, but I was a journalist in a far away land, in what seemed to be some kind of hot Arab country. Now that I think about it, I blame Miss Eva and Miss Madeleine for the journalist part and Miss Zarita for the Arabian setting. The guilty will understand their roles.
Ok, enough passing blame around. :)
For some reason, I was taking photographs of some kind of hot zone and myself and the guy I was with were captured. Without reason, we were sold into slavery. I know there was an auction of sorts, but that did not play out in the dream. I knew I had been auctioned and sold, but that I had been drugged or unconscious during that event so it was something that was just understood as how I got to where I was. Backdrop, if you will.
Where I was is still a bit fuzzy. I was definitely being abused by some sort of warlord. Not sexually abused at this time, just batted around by one of those large black men in combat fatigues and holding guns that you so often see in the movies. I was then ushered into a helicopter. At this point, I'm not entirely sure my mind had decided that this dream was going to turn erotic in nature, but it did pretty quickly after that.
I was delivered to a yacht. Not just any yacht, but some gigantic sleek streamlined superboat that you only see in magazines and that you need to have trillions to own. My first though was that this was some kind of Arab oil sheik, but as it turned out it was owned by a slightly overweight proper gentleman with a light British accent.
I began to understand in the dream that I'd been sold into sexual slavery to this man. At this point the dream became less fearsome and quite powerfully erotic as my unconscious mind shaped it into a fantasy. I was told immediately by this man to remove the clothing I was wearing and to take a bath. You'll remember I was a captured journalist (Miss Eva and Miss Madeleine's fault) and had been roughed up and such, so I was wearing beaten up dirty clothing and was filthy.
The man who owned me was relaxing in what seemed like a giant square pool. I couldn't see if he was naked or not. I wasn't allowed in that pool, however, there was a smaller sort of clam-shell shaped fountain on the side of the vast room. It had a tap in one end from which I drew water and sat in the small bath and rinsed off the dirt. I then seemed to spend an obnoxious amount of time trying to figure out why the tap handles that controlled the water, instead of going straight from off to cold to hot like a normal tap, seemed to infinitely spin, going from cold to hot and over and over again. It was a dream, ok? It doesn't have to make sense.
The next thing I remember, the man was standing in a robe at the end of the little pool I was in. I was naked, so I moved to the edge to hide my nudity and peered up at him.
He asked if I was clean, and I replied that I was in a timid voice. I may have been in the role of a war-chasing journalist, but now apparently my internal submissive was coming out to play. I can just imagine what my body was doing in the bed in real life. The man told me that he was now my owner and that I could never escape the boat and that I'd be shown to my quarters. Once I'd been settled in, I was to choose two 'toys' which he would then use to beat the living crap out of me as a welcome to his yacht.
Is there anything more sadistic than a dominant telling YOU to choose the toys they will use to beat the living crap out of you?
I was then shown to my room by a female slave. I think she was clothed, but not by much. I was still naked until she showed me to my room, which looked pretty much like a normal room, but it was fully furnished and even had clothing hanging in the closet. I was given to know that the master had owned a boy before and these were his clothes. I wasn't given an explanation what happened to this other boy, but apparently he took his leave quickly without his clothing. *shrug*
Of course, the clothing was the most alarming assortment of slut wear one could imagine. Hot shorts galore and most of the shirts for some reason were cutoffs like you don't see anymore. They were tight, had short sleeves and the chest part of the shirt only came down to just under my pecs, not even to the belly button, leaving the entire lower half exposed.
I tried one on. It was so tight, I needed the help of the female slave to get it back off again. Apparently the previous boy had been less developed in chest and shoulders than I. I did manage to find a normal tank top in there, rather like the kind I wear in real life during the summer, so I donned that instead.
She then showed me to the bathroom. I was amazed how much it looked like the bathroom in our previous real life house. It's funny how dreams do that sometimes. But then the dream started getting weird on me. While she was explaining the parts of the bathroom to me, my whole world began spinning and I felt nausea. I fell to the ground, clutching my stomach. She was laughing at me.
I looked up and could see the boat had started moving. And it was causing me sea sickness, which is weird because I never get that in real life. But there I was, nauseated on the floor, helpless while she taunted me from above me, telling me how weak I was and how could I stand up to our master if I couldn't even handle the boat.
The dream shifted. I remember no more.
I never did get to see his toys. I never did see the master again. I'm prone to recurring dreams, so perhaps I'll revisit that yacht again, but it's likely I won't remember it. I'm not going to try to analyze my own dream, I've never been good at that, but what I do know is that it was likely brought on by my aroused state in real life.
I'm selfishly glad the dream ended where it did. Had it not, it likely would have progressed to the beating and then sexual torment, which might have led to an ejaculation in real life. Ma'am seems to think it's cute when I lose control in my dreams and mess up the bed, but I find it decidedly humiliating to come like that in the sheets like a high school boy.
That was my dream. This is my confession. And dammit it, I'm still horny.
In Dreams
Originally I was waiting to write my confession this week until today (Saturday) so that I could detail whatever happened at the play party Ma'am and I went to last night. And while we did play there, something else happened last night and I've decided to write about that instead. I remembered a dream.
I don't normally remember dreams. I usually wake up slowly and my dreams dissipate from my mind like grains of sand on a windy day, but in this case I must have been jolted awake and the dream I was having was still very fresh in my mind. And completely erotic.
It probably helps that it's been a while since my last orgasm, AND that she had me sleeping in cuffs and a cock ring. I'm sure during times like these I have a lot of arousing dreams, but again, I remember so few that this was abnormal.
I'm writing about the dream instead of the scene last night because while some may enjoy the description of what actually happened t the play party, Ma'am might enjoy the description of my dream more. She knows what happened last night already, and learning what my unconscious mind digs up when I'm not in any control of it might be more entertaining and illuminating for her. Plenty of opportunities to write about scenes at parties later.
Please allow me to describe the dream. Analyze if you wish. Please keep in mind this was a dream, so if it seems nonsensical at times or seems to jump around, that's because it's how I remember it.
I was myself in the dream, but not myself. That is, it was definitely me, with my body and my desires, but I was a journalist in a far away land, in what seemed to be some kind of hot Arab country. Now that I think about it, I blame Miss Eva and Miss Madeleine for the journalist part and Miss Zarita for the Arabian setting. The guilty will understand their roles.
Ok, enough passing blame around. :)
For some reason, I was taking photographs of some kind of hot zone and myself and the guy I was with were captured. Without reason, we were sold into slavery. I know there was an auction of sorts, but that did not play out in the dream. I knew I had been auctioned and sold, but that I had been drugged or unconscious during that event so it was something that was just understood as how I got to where I was. Backdrop, if you will.
Where I was is still a bit fuzzy. I was definitely being abused by some sort of warlord. Not sexually abused at this time, just batted around by one of those large black men in combat fatigues and holding guns that you so often see in the movies. I was then ushered into a helicopter. At this point, I'm not entirely sure my mind had decided that this dream was going to turn erotic in nature, but it did pretty quickly after that.
I was delivered to a yacht. Not just any yacht, but some gigantic sleek streamlined superboat that you only see in magazines and that you need to have trillions to own. My first though was that this was some kind of Arab oil sheik, but as it turned out it was owned by a slightly overweight proper gentleman with a light British accent.
I began to understand in the dream that I'd been sold into sexual slavery to this man. At this point the dream became less fearsome and quite powerfully erotic as my unconscious mind shaped it into a fantasy. I was told immediately by this man to remove the clothing I was wearing and to take a bath. You'll remember I was a captured journalist (Miss Eva and Miss Madeleine's fault) and had been roughed up and such, so I was wearing beaten up dirty clothing and was filthy.
The man who owned me was relaxing in what seemed like a giant square pool. I couldn't see if he was naked or not. I wasn't allowed in that pool, however, there was a smaller sort of clam-shell shaped fountain on the side of the vast room. It had a tap in one end from which I drew water and sat in the small bath and rinsed off the dirt. I then seemed to spend an obnoxious amount of time trying to figure out why the tap handles that controlled the water, instead of going straight from off to cold to hot like a normal tap, seemed to infinitely spin, going from cold to hot and over and over again. It was a dream, ok? It doesn't have to make sense.
The next thing I remember, the man was standing in a robe at the end of the little pool I was in. I was naked, so I moved to the edge to hide my nudity and peered up at him.
He asked if I was clean, and I replied that I was in a timid voice. I may have been in the role of a war-chasing journalist, but now apparently my internal submissive was coming out to play. I can just imagine what my body was doing in the bed in real life. The man told me that he was now my owner and that I could never escape the boat and that I'd be shown to my quarters. Once I'd been settled in, I was to choose two 'toys' which he would then use to beat the living crap out of me as a welcome to his yacht.
Is there anything more sadistic than a dominant telling YOU to choose the toys they will use to beat the living crap out of you?
I was then shown to my room by a female slave. I think she was clothed, but not by much. I was still naked until she showed me to my room, which looked pretty much like a normal room, but it was fully furnished and even had clothing hanging in the closet. I was given to know that the master had owned a boy before and these were his clothes. I wasn't given an explanation what happened to this other boy, but apparently he took his leave quickly without his clothing. *shrug*
Of course, the clothing was the most alarming assortment of slut wear one could imagine. Hot shorts galore and most of the shirts for some reason were cutoffs like you don't see anymore. They were tight, had short sleeves and the chest part of the shirt only came down to just under my pecs, not even to the belly button, leaving the entire lower half exposed.
I tried one on. It was so tight, I needed the help of the female slave to get it back off again. Apparently the previous boy had been less developed in chest and shoulders than I. I did manage to find a normal tank top in there, rather like the kind I wear in real life during the summer, so I donned that instead.
She then showed me to the bathroom. I was amazed how much it looked like the bathroom in our previous real life house. It's funny how dreams do that sometimes. But then the dream started getting weird on me. While she was explaining the parts of the bathroom to me, my whole world began spinning and I felt nausea. I fell to the ground, clutching my stomach. She was laughing at me.
I looked up and could see the boat had started moving. And it was causing me sea sickness, which is weird because I never get that in real life. But there I was, nauseated on the floor, helpless while she taunted me from above me, telling me how weak I was and how could I stand up to our master if I couldn't even handle the boat.
The dream shifted. I remember no more.
I never did get to see his toys. I never did see the master again. I'm prone to recurring dreams, so perhaps I'll revisit that yacht again, but it's likely I won't remember it. I'm not going to try to analyze my own dream, I've never been good at that, but what I do know is that it was likely brought on by my aroused state in real life.
I'm selfishly glad the dream ended where it did. Had it not, it likely would have progressed to the beating and then sexual torment, which might have led to an ejaculation in real life. Ma'am seems to think it's cute when I lose control in my dreams and mess up the bed, but I find it decidedly humiliating to come like that in the sheets like a high school boy.
That was my dream. This is my confession. And dammit it, I'm still horny.
The Last Patient
Submitted anonymously by a submissive at Dominion.
Its Friday 4.30 PM and I’m left alone in the building, waiting on my last patient of the week. My last patient will be a woman with shoulder problems, examined last week by my colleague. Today we will start with some TENS treatment and after that some exercises. I yawn and stretch myself. Soon it will be weekend and I’ll be hanging with my friends again drinking some beer. My last patient seems late and I start cleaning up the examination room a bit already. Bend over and with my back to the door I suddenly hear some scraping of the throat behind me. Quickly I straighten and turn around, immediately staring into gorgeous blue eyes which stare directly back at me. ‘Good afternoon’, she says in a clear, loud voice. ‘G-good afternoon Miss James’ I reply. Did I just stutter? For some reason this lady standing before me, my patient with the shoulder injury, makes me pretty nervous. Her big blue eyes, made even bigger by the black long curly hair, keep staring at me causing a slightly raised heart beat and two sweaty palms. ‘Well, are you going to invite me in or what?’ she continues. I wake up quickly and nod, directing her to the dressing area and telling her to please take off her shirt and shoes. While she is busy doing that I prepare the examination table. Suddenly she stands next to me only dressed in her pants and a smoking hot black, satin bra. I turn towards her and try hard to keep my eyes directed at hers. ‘Y-you may come..and sit here Miss’ as I point towards the examination table. ‘Thank you’ she replies in a rather cold, stern voice’. Is she getting annoyed by my clumsiness? She sits down on the table and I start preparing the TENS machine. She looks at me with suspicious eyes. ‘You sure you know what you’re doing boy?’ she suddenly asks me. Did she seriously just call me boy? Yeah I know I’m just 25 but, I am the physical therapist right? Her words make me even more nervous and my hands start to tremble. ‘Y-yes yes, of course Miss’ I reply. She doesn’t reply but doesn’t look away either. My trembling hands manage to apply the two electrodes onto her shoulder. The machine is ready for use. ‘Miss?’ I start. ‘Mmmhmmm?’, her tone is still suspicious. ‘Miss, when I turn this button slowly, you will start feeling a tinkling sensation. It shouldn’t hurt Miss, if it starts too hurt, please tell me. She nods and slowly I start turning the knob my eyes fixed on her to keep an eye on her reactions. Staring at her like that, makes me notice her beauty even more. Her blue eyes, perfectly formed nose and cheeks, her red painted lips, all surrounded by gorgeous, black, curly hair. Dreamingly my eyes go a bit lower, to her pretty neck, her collarbones and down…down. ‘AAaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiii’ she suddenly screams and I wake up immediately, seeing my hand fixed on the knob and the arrow on it pointing to MAX. She yanks off the electrodes, showing two deep red spots on her pretty skin. ‘You IDIOT boy’ she starts screaming at me. ‘I..I..Im sorry Miss’ I squeek. ‘Sorry isn’t good enough boy, you are gonna PAY’. Pay? Did she mean I had to pay her money? ‘P..pay Miss?’.
‘Yes boy, you are going to do everything I say or else I sue your sorry little ass, got me?’. The look on her face means business and I slowly nod my head. ‘Take of your pants and boxers’.
‘M..Miss?’ I look confused. ‘NOW’ she responds quickly. I swallow hard and slowly take of my pants, dropping them to the floor. ‘Boxers….I’m waitinggg’ she says and with a red blushing face and a fast raising heart beat, I slowly lower my boxers, revealing my already semi-erect cock. I see her smirking and blush some more. ‘On the table boy, hands above your head’. I see she has found some rope and quickly she starts tying my hands onto the examination table. I gulp, scared but at the same time, totally excited by this hot lady who’s ordering me around. My cock hardens a bit more and she notices it. ‘Mmmmmhhmmm….I think you are starting to like this a bit too much, boy’. She says softly, almost whispering, her mouth close to my ear. I don’t know what to say. ‘But that will soon be over’ she says, smirking again. Suddenly I realize what she’s planning to do as I see her walk over to the TENS machine. ‘Oh…oh noo pleaseee Miss’, I hear myself begging. She doesn’t respond and I see her grabbing the electrodes. ‘Begging won’t help you boy, you..are gonna pay’. With some quick moves she attaches the electrodes all around my hard cock and I start to wiggle my ass and legs nervously. ‘DON’T MOVE BOY’ she says in a loud voice and gives me a hard smack on the side of my thigh. I immediately stop moving, staring at her with big, worried eyes, feeling drops of sweat running from my forehead, my heart almost pouncing out of my chest now. ‘Now…..this is NOT just gonna tickle….boy’ she says again smirking as her hand moves to the knob. With one quick pull, she pulls the knob to the side causing a painful electrical shock to run through my hard cock. I scream as my pelvis jumps up from the table, trying hard to shake of that feeling. ‘MMMMmmmissssssss’ I scream out. She turns the knob back and the feeling disappears, my cock not nearly as hard anymore. ‘Not so exciting anymore, is it boy?’ she says. ‘N..no Miss, please stop, pleaseeee Miss’. Instead of responding, she immediately pulls at the knob, again causing an even more painful shock to run through my poor cock. I wiggle and bounce my pelvis, my legs slamming into the table and I hear myself make some desperate sounding squeaking noise. She turns the knob back again, my cock now completely limp and hanging low. I sigh in relieve as the pain disappears. She walks towards the head end of the table again and brings her face close to my ears. Whispering she says, ‘listen to me, very carefully now boy. You…are now MINE. Understand?’. I don’t really know what she means but I nod my head anyway. ‘You tell NOONE that this happened or what I said, from now on, I can have you whenever I want you and HOWEVER I want you….understand boy?’ I swallow hard and nod my head again.
Then she unties my hands, but I don’t dare to move. Leaving me there on the table, scared, worried, still in a bit of pain, she slowly puts her blouse back on while her eyes keeps staring at my helpless half naked body. Then she grabs her stuff and without saying another word, she walks through the door and I….still don’t dare to move.
Its Friday 4.30 PM and I’m left alone in the building, waiting on my last patient of the week. My last patient will be a woman with shoulder problems, examined last week by my colleague. Today we will start with some TENS treatment and after that some exercises. I yawn and stretch myself. Soon it will be weekend and I’ll be hanging with my friends again drinking some beer. My last patient seems late and I start cleaning up the examination room a bit already. Bend over and with my back to the door I suddenly hear some scraping of the throat behind me. Quickly I straighten and turn around, immediately staring into gorgeous blue eyes which stare directly back at me. ‘Good afternoon’, she says in a clear, loud voice. ‘G-good afternoon Miss James’ I reply. Did I just stutter? For some reason this lady standing before me, my patient with the shoulder injury, makes me pretty nervous. Her big blue eyes, made even bigger by the black long curly hair, keep staring at me causing a slightly raised heart beat and two sweaty palms. ‘Well, are you going to invite me in or what?’ she continues. I wake up quickly and nod, directing her to the dressing area and telling her to please take off her shirt and shoes. While she is busy doing that I prepare the examination table. Suddenly she stands next to me only dressed in her pants and a smoking hot black, satin bra. I turn towards her and try hard to keep my eyes directed at hers. ‘Y-you may come..and sit here Miss’ as I point towards the examination table. ‘Thank you’ she replies in a rather cold, stern voice’. Is she getting annoyed by my clumsiness? She sits down on the table and I start preparing the TENS machine. She looks at me with suspicious eyes. ‘You sure you know what you’re doing boy?’ she suddenly asks me. Did she seriously just call me boy? Yeah I know I’m just 25 but, I am the physical therapist right? Her words make me even more nervous and my hands start to tremble. ‘Y-yes yes, of course Miss’ I reply. She doesn’t reply but doesn’t look away either. My trembling hands manage to apply the two electrodes onto her shoulder. The machine is ready for use. ‘Miss?’ I start. ‘Mmmhmmm?’, her tone is still suspicious. ‘Miss, when I turn this button slowly, you will start feeling a tinkling sensation. It shouldn’t hurt Miss, if it starts too hurt, please tell me. She nods and slowly I start turning the knob my eyes fixed on her to keep an eye on her reactions. Staring at her like that, makes me notice her beauty even more. Her blue eyes, perfectly formed nose and cheeks, her red painted lips, all surrounded by gorgeous, black, curly hair. Dreamingly my eyes go a bit lower, to her pretty neck, her collarbones and down…down. ‘AAaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiii’ she suddenly screams and I wake up immediately, seeing my hand fixed on the knob and the arrow on it pointing to MAX. She yanks off the electrodes, showing two deep red spots on her pretty skin. ‘You IDIOT boy’ she starts screaming at me. ‘I..I..Im sorry Miss’ I squeek. ‘Sorry isn’t good enough boy, you are gonna PAY’. Pay? Did she mean I had to pay her money? ‘P..pay Miss?’.
‘Yes boy, you are going to do everything I say or else I sue your sorry little ass, got me?’. The look on her face means business and I slowly nod my head. ‘Take of your pants and boxers’.
‘M..Miss?’ I look confused. ‘NOW’ she responds quickly. I swallow hard and slowly take of my pants, dropping them to the floor. ‘Boxers….I’m waitinggg’ she says and with a red blushing face and a fast raising heart beat, I slowly lower my boxers, revealing my already semi-erect cock. I see her smirking and blush some more. ‘On the table boy, hands above your head’. I see she has found some rope and quickly she starts tying my hands onto the examination table. I gulp, scared but at the same time, totally excited by this hot lady who’s ordering me around. My cock hardens a bit more and she notices it. ‘Mmmmmhhmmm….I think you are starting to like this a bit too much, boy’. She says softly, almost whispering, her mouth close to my ear. I don’t know what to say. ‘But that will soon be over’ she says, smirking again. Suddenly I realize what she’s planning to do as I see her walk over to the TENS machine. ‘Oh…oh noo pleaseee Miss’, I hear myself begging. She doesn’t respond and I see her grabbing the electrodes. ‘Begging won’t help you boy, you..are gonna pay’. With some quick moves she attaches the electrodes all around my hard cock and I start to wiggle my ass and legs nervously. ‘DON’T MOVE BOY’ she says in a loud voice and gives me a hard smack on the side of my thigh. I immediately stop moving, staring at her with big, worried eyes, feeling drops of sweat running from my forehead, my heart almost pouncing out of my chest now. ‘Now…..this is NOT just gonna tickle….boy’ she says again smirking as her hand moves to the knob. With one quick pull, she pulls the knob to the side causing a painful electrical shock to run through my hard cock. I scream as my pelvis jumps up from the table, trying hard to shake of that feeling. ‘MMMMmmmissssssss’ I scream out. She turns the knob back and the feeling disappears, my cock not nearly as hard anymore. ‘Not so exciting anymore, is it boy?’ she says. ‘N..no Miss, please stop, pleaseeee Miss’. Instead of responding, she immediately pulls at the knob, again causing an even more painful shock to run through my poor cock. I wiggle and bounce my pelvis, my legs slamming into the table and I hear myself make some desperate sounding squeaking noise. She turns the knob back again, my cock now completely limp and hanging low. I sigh in relieve as the pain disappears. She walks towards the head end of the table again and brings her face close to my ears. Whispering she says, ‘listen to me, very carefully now boy. You…are now MINE. Understand?’. I don’t really know what she means but I nod my head anyway. ‘You tell NOONE that this happened or what I said, from now on, I can have you whenever I want you and HOWEVER I want you….understand boy?’ I swallow hard and nod my head again.
Then she unties my hands, but I don’t dare to move. Leaving me there on the table, scared, worried, still in a bit of pain, she slowly puts her blouse back on while her eyes keeps staring at my helpless half naked body. Then she grabs her stuff and without saying another word, she walks through the door and I….still don’t dare to move.
Love and Relationships
Submitted anonymously by a Domme at Dominion.
Love is indeed everything a person is, their very essence, as natural as breathing. It`s sad that most people don`t accept that and try to block it or control it. These same people wonder why there is so much stress, drama and unhappiness in their lives... why they can`t find the right one. It makes it hard for people that do understand, because we give freely, knowing no other way to be and can end up hurt, seemingly sometimes beyond repair. However, love being that it is, is forever growing, adapting and evolving...and the more you give, the more that you get, even if sometimes that means love itself gives back to you to rejuvinate you within and allow you to give more. It`s a beautiful cycle and I wish more people understood it. Life would be a much better place and so much less pain and sickness. The body never lies, it`s the mind and the self conscious of a person that interfere out of fear of rejection and a myriad of other things I imagine.
So many people don`t understand and are so blocked that it is hard to have a deep conversation without having to explain almost everything you think when it comes to love and/or relationships and/or giving/experiencing power exchange. Most anything to do with a human being vulnerable and just giving of themselves on a deeper level than a compliment, a nice night out or a fancy gift. To understand that it`s not the gift itself, but the thought and motivation behind it that mean so much more. You hear people say all the time that it`s the thought that counts, but society has taught a double lesson...one very fake and superficial and one that is true. Sadly most take the fake and superficial because it is less time consuming, takes very little thought and/or effort and it`s expensive, as if money shows your self worth. That way does protect you from being hurt I suppose.
I get so tired of people saying there`s a high bar to pass before they will enter in to something deeper because they`ve been hurt. We`ve all been hurt, but doesn`t it hurt you more to limit your capacity to love? Going back to the never ending cycle of give give back, it truly does take away from you and doesn`t allow for healing or rejuvination. Yet these same people believe they are *protecting* themselves from further pain, when the reality is they are only prolonging the pain they already have and not allowing a natural cleansing to happen. It is not by accident that when someone smiles at you, you smile back. Nor when you hug someone you get hugged back. Your body naturally does these things and I wish more people realized they are as essential as breathing to stay alive. Our bodies are made up of so much more than just the flesh and we have all kinds of natural healing properties if we`d only allow them to be used. When you smile back, you feel good inside naturally, it just happens. That lightens your mood, even if only for a second...in that second, positive energy can flow through you and heal something, or rejuvinate something, or just give you that much more reserve for the person or situation you are going to run into that may need some extra positivity. Same with a hug, and so many other things.
Now, you may wonder what all of that has to do with D/s. Well, in my not so humble opinion, there is no deeper relationship, nor more reason to be absolutely open to your Domme. We've all been hurt, had negative experiences, but if you are to ever heal and get past them, you have to open and reach out...... try again, or you will inevitibly end up in the same hurtful cycle, as that will be all you can draw in. Trust in your Domme to help replace the negatives with positive, healthy things. Grow and flourish, and see just how amazing like can be, and how much better you will feel, not just as a sub, but as a person in every aspect of your life.
Love is indeed everything a person is, their very essence, as natural as breathing. It`s sad that most people don`t accept that and try to block it or control it. These same people wonder why there is so much stress, drama and unhappiness in their lives... why they can`t find the right one. It makes it hard for people that do understand, because we give freely, knowing no other way to be and can end up hurt, seemingly sometimes beyond repair. However, love being that it is, is forever growing, adapting and evolving...and the more you give, the more that you get, even if sometimes that means love itself gives back to you to rejuvinate you within and allow you to give more. It`s a beautiful cycle and I wish more people understood it. Life would be a much better place and so much less pain and sickness. The body never lies, it`s the mind and the self conscious of a person that interfere out of fear of rejection and a myriad of other things I imagine.
So many people don`t understand and are so blocked that it is hard to have a deep conversation without having to explain almost everything you think when it comes to love and/or relationships and/or giving/experiencing power exchange. Most anything to do with a human being vulnerable and just giving of themselves on a deeper level than a compliment, a nice night out or a fancy gift. To understand that it`s not the gift itself, but the thought and motivation behind it that mean so much more. You hear people say all the time that it`s the thought that counts, but society has taught a double lesson...one very fake and superficial and one that is true. Sadly most take the fake and superficial because it is less time consuming, takes very little thought and/or effort and it`s expensive, as if money shows your self worth. That way does protect you from being hurt I suppose.
I get so tired of people saying there`s a high bar to pass before they will enter in to something deeper because they`ve been hurt. We`ve all been hurt, but doesn`t it hurt you more to limit your capacity to love? Going back to the never ending cycle of give give back, it truly does take away from you and doesn`t allow for healing or rejuvination. Yet these same people believe they are *protecting* themselves from further pain, when the reality is they are only prolonging the pain they already have and not allowing a natural cleansing to happen. It is not by accident that when someone smiles at you, you smile back. Nor when you hug someone you get hugged back. Your body naturally does these things and I wish more people realized they are as essential as breathing to stay alive. Our bodies are made up of so much more than just the flesh and we have all kinds of natural healing properties if we`d only allow them to be used. When you smile back, you feel good inside naturally, it just happens. That lightens your mood, even if only for a second...in that second, positive energy can flow through you and heal something, or rejuvinate something, or just give you that much more reserve for the person or situation you are going to run into that may need some extra positivity. Same with a hug, and so many other things.
Now, you may wonder what all of that has to do with D/s. Well, in my not so humble opinion, there is no deeper relationship, nor more reason to be absolutely open to your Domme. We've all been hurt, had negative experiences, but if you are to ever heal and get past them, you have to open and reach out...... try again, or you will inevitibly end up in the same hurtful cycle, as that will be all you can draw in. Trust in your Domme to help replace the negatives with positive, healthy things. Grow and flourish, and see just how amazing like can be, and how much better you will feel, not just as a sub, but as a person in every aspect of your life.
Dedication for Miss Crissy Viper
Submitted by: Karma Lefevre
Before your dream can come true you have to have that dream
This is my dream.
my Miss was dipleased with me. Not that She said anything. She didn't have to. Her whole demeanour had changed.
i observed how She surveyed me haughtily her beautiful eyes slicing into my very soul , ripping through me exposing my core. There was no hiding place from that steady gaze. i felt my face flush red in embarassment and i lowered my head to stare at the floor.
There was a tension in Her movement , a certain impatience about Her and an air of absolute authority. inwardly i cringed and felt my sphinter tighten as She exuded a palpable aura of power.
Myriad thoughts assailed me - what would happen? - how would She decide to deal with me? - how severe would her punishment be? my mouth was dry and i knew if i was asked i could not speak.
She spoke softly to me 'Drop your kilt toy.'
Although Her voice was soft there was a heavy menace in Her tone. Once again i was exposed to Her distainful gaze , this time naked and manacled totally at Her mercy.
After what seemed an eternity although was probably only seconds i felt a sharp pain in my cock as She grabbed it and squeezed. Her red painted nails gouging my sensitive flesh.
Immediately She moved forward trailing me along behind Her - me trying to stay as close as possible to try to ease the hard tugs on my member. i tottered along behind Her ,She raised and lowered Her arm making me dance along on tiptoes to try to ease the acute pain that had now engulfed my balls. In this manner She painfully led me to a punishmnet room.
It was dim in the room and it smelled of fear. However it was not so dim that i could not see various articles of torture , some familiar , others that i had no clue as to what they could be used for.
i had a sick feeling in my stomach .How could i have been so stupid?
A soft yet sharp command reminded me of my Miss's annoyance. ''Hands straight out in front of you, slut'' i did as i was told. Deftly She attached a heavy studded leather cuff to each of my wrists. between the cuffs was a sort length of chain. i heard the whirring of an electric motor and the clank of a heavier chain being lowered from the ceiling. Miss attached this to the links between my cuffs and again i heard the steady whir of the electric motor and i felt my arms being slowly hoisted high above my head. Miss controlled the hoist perfectly and soon i was standing with just my toes touching the ground.
Now i was truely helpless.
i could her Miss walk around behind me . Then silence. i was aware of my own ragged breathing , my ears straining for the slightest sound. i hear the swish of a cane , again all my senses alert, listening.
Suddenly i hear another longer swish but this time it is accompanied by a searing pain across both my buttocks . i bite my lower lip to stop from crying out.
''What do you say, boy?'' One thank You Miss i respond as my buttocks start to quiver uncontrolably. i hear miss softly chuckle. i hold my breath waiting for the next stroke. I feel the tip of the cane run down between my buttocks. Then nothing. Again senses alert.
Again i heard the swish and feel pain explode across my ass as two strokes are administered in quick succession. I inhale sharply. TWO thank you Miss. Three thank You Miss. I hear Miss chuckle again as i writhe against my bonds.
She says ''we shall go to 10 without a break.''
''How many more is that ,slut?''
Sssseven i stammer. i can feel my ass on fire and wonder how i can take seven more strokes of the ferocity i have just experienced. i moan in pleasure as well as fear.
''Yes - ssseven you dont have to count''
I heard and felt the cane at the same moment, the painful fire fire exploding across my exposed ass. Again and again the noise and pain merged. i did not know how many strokes were left - i was only aware of the pain and that my Miss was displeased. i waited for more strokes - thankfully none came. Was it over?
I felt Miss's leather gloved hand on my buttocks examining the raised weals left by Her expert use of the cane.
She releases me my from my chain. Humbled i kneel before her , head bowed , chastened. breathing fast. In awe of Her.
Then i am pulled roughly by the hair towards a whipping bench and ordered to prostrate myself on the floor. Fearful this was to be more caning i closed my eyes - praying.
I hear a command ''Kneel slave''.
As i get to my knees i am spellbound by the sight before me. Miss is draped across the bench her naked glorious ass in the air.
''Clean it''
Gently i start to kiss Her buttocks.
She sighs.
''No, toy - get your tongue right in there.''
i gently seperate Her buttocks and gently lick Her puckered star gradually working my tongue deeper inside, concentrating on my task. i tatse her sweetness.
'STOP'
i wonder have i displeased Miss again?
''Get on the floor face down''
i lie there -tasting my Miss , savouring the vision of Her. my ass reminding me of how lucky i was to have such a priviledge.
i hear Miss redressing.
''Go and stand in the corner ,boy. Face the wall'
i move as quickly as my sore butt allows.
i hear Her walk across the floor.
The door opening.
And closing.
She is gone.
Before your dream can come true you have to have that dream
This is my dream.
my Miss was dipleased with me. Not that She said anything. She didn't have to. Her whole demeanour had changed.
i observed how She surveyed me haughtily her beautiful eyes slicing into my very soul , ripping through me exposing my core. There was no hiding place from that steady gaze. i felt my face flush red in embarassment and i lowered my head to stare at the floor.
There was a tension in Her movement , a certain impatience about Her and an air of absolute authority. inwardly i cringed and felt my sphinter tighten as She exuded a palpable aura of power.
Myriad thoughts assailed me - what would happen? - how would She decide to deal with me? - how severe would her punishment be? my mouth was dry and i knew if i was asked i could not speak.
She spoke softly to me 'Drop your kilt toy.'
Although Her voice was soft there was a heavy menace in Her tone. Once again i was exposed to Her distainful gaze , this time naked and manacled totally at Her mercy.
After what seemed an eternity although was probably only seconds i felt a sharp pain in my cock as She grabbed it and squeezed. Her red painted nails gouging my sensitive flesh.
Immediately She moved forward trailing me along behind Her - me trying to stay as close as possible to try to ease the hard tugs on my member. i tottered along behind Her ,She raised and lowered Her arm making me dance along on tiptoes to try to ease the acute pain that had now engulfed my balls. In this manner She painfully led me to a punishmnet room.
It was dim in the room and it smelled of fear. However it was not so dim that i could not see various articles of torture , some familiar , others that i had no clue as to what they could be used for.
i had a sick feeling in my stomach .How could i have been so stupid?
A soft yet sharp command reminded me of my Miss's annoyance. ''Hands straight out in front of you, slut'' i did as i was told. Deftly She attached a heavy studded leather cuff to each of my wrists. between the cuffs was a sort length of chain. i heard the whirring of an electric motor and the clank of a heavier chain being lowered from the ceiling. Miss attached this to the links between my cuffs and again i heard the steady whir of the electric motor and i felt my arms being slowly hoisted high above my head. Miss controlled the hoist perfectly and soon i was standing with just my toes touching the ground.
Now i was truely helpless.
i could her Miss walk around behind me . Then silence. i was aware of my own ragged breathing , my ears straining for the slightest sound. i hear the swish of a cane , again all my senses alert, listening.
Suddenly i hear another longer swish but this time it is accompanied by a searing pain across both my buttocks . i bite my lower lip to stop from crying out.
''What do you say, boy?'' One thank You Miss i respond as my buttocks start to quiver uncontrolably. i hear miss softly chuckle. i hold my breath waiting for the next stroke. I feel the tip of the cane run down between my buttocks. Then nothing. Again senses alert.
Again i heard the swish and feel pain explode across my ass as two strokes are administered in quick succession. I inhale sharply. TWO thank you Miss. Three thank You Miss. I hear Miss chuckle again as i writhe against my bonds.
She says ''we shall go to 10 without a break.''
''How many more is that ,slut?''
Sssseven i stammer. i can feel my ass on fire and wonder how i can take seven more strokes of the ferocity i have just experienced. i moan in pleasure as well as fear.
''Yes - ssseven you dont have to count''
I heard and felt the cane at the same moment, the painful fire fire exploding across my exposed ass. Again and again the noise and pain merged. i did not know how many strokes were left - i was only aware of the pain and that my Miss was displeased. i waited for more strokes - thankfully none came. Was it over?
I felt Miss's leather gloved hand on my buttocks examining the raised weals left by Her expert use of the cane.
She releases me my from my chain. Humbled i kneel before her , head bowed , chastened. breathing fast. In awe of Her.
Then i am pulled roughly by the hair towards a whipping bench and ordered to prostrate myself on the floor. Fearful this was to be more caning i closed my eyes - praying.
I hear a command ''Kneel slave''.
As i get to my knees i am spellbound by the sight before me. Miss is draped across the bench her naked glorious ass in the air.
''Clean it''
Gently i start to kiss Her buttocks.
She sighs.
''No, toy - get your tongue right in there.''
i gently seperate Her buttocks and gently lick Her puckered star gradually working my tongue deeper inside, concentrating on my task. i tatse her sweetness.
'STOP'
i wonder have i displeased Miss again?
''Get on the floor face down''
i lie there -tasting my Miss , savouring the vision of Her. my ass reminding me of how lucky i was to have such a priviledge.
i hear Miss redressing.
''Go and stand in the corner ,boy. Face the wall'
i move as quickly as my sore butt allows.
i hear Her walk across the floor.
The door opening.
And closing.
She is gone.
Confessions Haiku
Submitted by: Vittore Orsini
Confess
What a dilemma,
Karma can be,
coy as a diva,
via my misery.
confess, confess, confess.
swift whispers
actors glee
clearly blusters.
for hecklers, guilty!
Confess, Confess, Confess
I love the sting,
I crave the cage.
How I've been aching
to be engaged.
Confess, Confess, Confess
Confess
What a dilemma,
Karma can be,
coy as a diva,
via my misery.
confess, confess, confess.
swift whispers
actors glee
clearly blusters.
for hecklers, guilty!
Confess, Confess, Confess
I love the sting,
I crave the cage.
How I've been aching
to be engaged.
Confess, Confess, Confess
An Evening In
Submitted anonymously by a submissive of Dominion.
I heard my name being called. Well, I heard the name I now responded to. I was not allowed to use my birth name any longer. Since my formal collaring I had only ever been called by my new slave name of “kitty”.
I hurried into the room from where my Mistress had called me, and knelt quickly to the side of Her seated form, lowered my head and placed a tender kiss on Her knee. She liked that; She liked to be greeted by a gentle kiss on Her knee in any and every situation. The only exception I was allowed was when I met Her at work, or when She indicated with Her eyes for me to do so; then I was to kiss Her on Her shoulder.
It was the weekend, and I had been keeping busy doing my assigned chores for the day. Every day I had a list that was pinned up in the kitchen. If I had been good then it was quite a manageable list; if I had been allowing standards to slip then it was usually a much longer list, which would be a real challenge to complete in the time allowed. Fortunately I had not had a long list in quite a while now.
I was naked, but for the stainless steel collar around my neck, the padlocked cock cage, and the butt plug. I knelt quietly at the feet of my Mistress, eyes lowered. I felt my cock cage start to get tight again as usual. Being close to my Mistress always caused such a reaction now. I was approaching a year in chastity, and the arousal from being near t my Mistress was something I could no longer control.
“My feet, kitty” She said quietly in that soft yet firm voice that I always found so exciting. Without hesitation I lowered my head to attend to Her feet with my lips, carefully covering them with adoring kisses. After a while I heard my Mistress sigh as She relaxed back into Her chair, and on hearing the words “legs, kitty” my attention turned to massaging Her legs. I knew that I would be here for a good while yet, since this had become a regular routine. When my Mistress returns from whatever She does on a Saturday (She never chose to tell me, and I never asked) She is usually ready for some attention.
“That’s enough kitty, now run my bath”, She instructed me after the better part of an hour massaging Her legs from toe to thigh. I crawled out of the room quickly and went to run the bath, making sure that the temperature was just right and a warm freshly laundered scented towel was placed on the towel stand. I added some scented bath oils too, mixed just as She likes it.
She came to the bathroom, and as She disrobed and gave me Her clothes one by one as She did so. Piece by piece I laid them neatly on a chair nearby, having already laid out the outfit She had selected for the evening on Her bed. Just before She stepped into the bath, She unlocked my CB and said those words I looked forward to with mixed feelings: “get you cock hard, kitty”.
I knew what was to come next. Whenever my Mistress took a bath, I had to remain hard for the duration. I had to stroke unceasingly; I was not allowed to stop stroking, and I had to make sure NOT to get to an edge. At first this was not so difficult, however now that I had been chaste for so long it was no longer such an easy feat. What was worse, She made sure to make it even more difficult as I watched Her bathing, and paying special attention to Her breasts and other intimate areas.
When She finished I was allowed to towel Her dry – a task I enjoyed immensely. This was a lovely duty that I was allowed to perform when I had pleased Her during the day, and it was one of the few ways in which I was able to discern that She was pleased with me. I rarely if ever received any praise for work done, so this was a welcome sign of Her approval. I carefully worked my hands all over Her slender toned form, working my way carefully over Her body until She was completely dry. After the application of some scented powders and oils, we retired to Her bedroom, and I wondered what had been planned for this evening. I was soon to find out.
My cock had wilted during the towelling but was still very full and my balls were aching again. Thoughts of a release that may one day be allowed filled my mind, as I knelt quietly at Her feet. Across the room from the bed was a cross attached to the far wall, with cuffs attached. I had hung there many an evening when I had displeased Her. It was rare now that I hung there for long, since my behaviour had become moulded to Her wishes and I rarely needed to be punished for misdemeanours. Now, however, She pointed to the cross, and instructed me to strap myself in. I could manage to attach all of the straps but the one on my non-dominant hand, which I did quickly.
“Kitty, I want you to get your cock hard again, and quickly; don’t make me have to wait” She said in that naturally sultry voice that I loved to listen to. Well, not unsurprisingly I was shackled in place and hard in next to no time. “Edge for me my pet” She said as She lay back on the bed, caressing Her moist pussy, “I need to cum, and I want to hear you edging as I do so”. I was on the edge in seconds, unable to prevent lusty moans from escaping through my pursed lips. My eyes were locked on Her slender manicured fingers as they teased Her pussy lips, caressed Her clit, and I watched as they slipped inside Her from time to time, a place that I new would never be allowed to go.
I heard Her breathing increase and become ragged, while I stayed a few strokes away from an explosive release. I needed only to touch my cock now; the slightest movement was all that was required to keep myself right on the edge. Her moans became higher pitched as She approached an orgasm, certainly not the first today, and probably not the last. I had to bite the inside of my lip to prevent myself from exploding as I heard Her get closer and closer to Her orgasm. I could see Her gaze on my cock watching it bob and throb as I kept myself right on the edge for Her, and I had to let go completely and concentrate so very hard as I heard Her climax overtake Her, as She had trained me, otherwise I would have not been able to prevent myself from erupting in an almighty release.
When She had recovered, She came over to stand in front of me and dragged my hand from my still rock hard cock, attaching it in place to make me quite immobile. “How many edges did we manage last time, kitty”, She asked. “Twenty four, Mistress” I replied with a moan recalling the combination of excitement and frustration that I had felt at the end of the last session.
“Do you think that you would like to beat that record this time, my pet”, She asked. “Yes please, Mistress”, I quickly replied. I was not so sure that I did really want to beat that record, but I knew by now that any other response would be inappropriate and would result in dissatisfaction, and that I would be sure to be punished. She had by now slipped on a seductive outfit made from a cleverly constructed, cute combination of leather and lace that concealed little, yet revealed nothing.
She started to stroke my cock, alternating Her strokes from slow and agonizing, to quick, and back to slow. <<>>
I heard my name being called. Well, I heard the name I now responded to. I was not allowed to use my birth name any longer. Since my formal collaring I had only ever been called by my new slave name of “kitty”.
I hurried into the room from where my Mistress had called me, and knelt quickly to the side of Her seated form, lowered my head and placed a tender kiss on Her knee. She liked that; She liked to be greeted by a gentle kiss on Her knee in any and every situation. The only exception I was allowed was when I met Her at work, or when She indicated with Her eyes for me to do so; then I was to kiss Her on Her shoulder.
It was the weekend, and I had been keeping busy doing my assigned chores for the day. Every day I had a list that was pinned up in the kitchen. If I had been good then it was quite a manageable list; if I had been allowing standards to slip then it was usually a much longer list, which would be a real challenge to complete in the time allowed. Fortunately I had not had a long list in quite a while now.
I was naked, but for the stainless steel collar around my neck, the padlocked cock cage, and the butt plug. I knelt quietly at the feet of my Mistress, eyes lowered. I felt my cock cage start to get tight again as usual. Being close to my Mistress always caused such a reaction now. I was approaching a year in chastity, and the arousal from being near t my Mistress was something I could no longer control.
“My feet, kitty” She said quietly in that soft yet firm voice that I always found so exciting. Without hesitation I lowered my head to attend to Her feet with my lips, carefully covering them with adoring kisses. After a while I heard my Mistress sigh as She relaxed back into Her chair, and on hearing the words “legs, kitty” my attention turned to massaging Her legs. I knew that I would be here for a good while yet, since this had become a regular routine. When my Mistress returns from whatever She does on a Saturday (She never chose to tell me, and I never asked) She is usually ready for some attention.
“That’s enough kitty, now run my bath”, She instructed me after the better part of an hour massaging Her legs from toe to thigh. I crawled out of the room quickly and went to run the bath, making sure that the temperature was just right and a warm freshly laundered scented towel was placed on the towel stand. I added some scented bath oils too, mixed just as She likes it.
She came to the bathroom, and as She disrobed and gave me Her clothes one by one as She did so. Piece by piece I laid them neatly on a chair nearby, having already laid out the outfit She had selected for the evening on Her bed. Just before She stepped into the bath, She unlocked my CB and said those words I looked forward to with mixed feelings: “get you cock hard, kitty”.
I knew what was to come next. Whenever my Mistress took a bath, I had to remain hard for the duration. I had to stroke unceasingly; I was not allowed to stop stroking, and I had to make sure NOT to get to an edge. At first this was not so difficult, however now that I had been chaste for so long it was no longer such an easy feat. What was worse, She made sure to make it even more difficult as I watched Her bathing, and paying special attention to Her breasts and other intimate areas.
When She finished I was allowed to towel Her dry – a task I enjoyed immensely. This was a lovely duty that I was allowed to perform when I had pleased Her during the day, and it was one of the few ways in which I was able to discern that She was pleased with me. I rarely if ever received any praise for work done, so this was a welcome sign of Her approval. I carefully worked my hands all over Her slender toned form, working my way carefully over Her body until She was completely dry. After the application of some scented powders and oils, we retired to Her bedroom, and I wondered what had been planned for this evening. I was soon to find out.
My cock had wilted during the towelling but was still very full and my balls were aching again. Thoughts of a release that may one day be allowed filled my mind, as I knelt quietly at Her feet. Across the room from the bed was a cross attached to the far wall, with cuffs attached. I had hung there many an evening when I had displeased Her. It was rare now that I hung there for long, since my behaviour had become moulded to Her wishes and I rarely needed to be punished for misdemeanours. Now, however, She pointed to the cross, and instructed me to strap myself in. I could manage to attach all of the straps but the one on my non-dominant hand, which I did quickly.
“Kitty, I want you to get your cock hard again, and quickly; don’t make me have to wait” She said in that naturally sultry voice that I loved to listen to. Well, not unsurprisingly I was shackled in place and hard in next to no time. “Edge for me my pet” She said as She lay back on the bed, caressing Her moist pussy, “I need to cum, and I want to hear you edging as I do so”. I was on the edge in seconds, unable to prevent lusty moans from escaping through my pursed lips. My eyes were locked on Her slender manicured fingers as they teased Her pussy lips, caressed Her clit, and I watched as they slipped inside Her from time to time, a place that I new would never be allowed to go.
I heard Her breathing increase and become ragged, while I stayed a few strokes away from an explosive release. I needed only to touch my cock now; the slightest movement was all that was required to keep myself right on the edge. Her moans became higher pitched as She approached an orgasm, certainly not the first today, and probably not the last. I had to bite the inside of my lip to prevent myself from exploding as I heard Her get closer and closer to Her orgasm. I could see Her gaze on my cock watching it bob and throb as I kept myself right on the edge for Her, and I had to let go completely and concentrate so very hard as I heard Her climax overtake Her, as She had trained me, otherwise I would have not been able to prevent myself from erupting in an almighty release.
When She had recovered, She came over to stand in front of me and dragged my hand from my still rock hard cock, attaching it in place to make me quite immobile. “How many edges did we manage last time, kitty”, She asked. “Twenty four, Mistress” I replied with a moan recalling the combination of excitement and frustration that I had felt at the end of the last session.
“Do you think that you would like to beat that record this time, my pet”, She asked. “Yes please, Mistress”, I quickly replied. I was not so sure that I did really want to beat that record, but I knew by now that any other response would be inappropriate and would result in dissatisfaction, and that I would be sure to be punished. She had by now slipped on a seductive outfit made from a cleverly constructed, cute combination of leather and lace that concealed little, yet revealed nothing.
She started to stroke my cock, alternating Her strokes from slow and agonizing, to quick, and back to slow. <<>>
Finally Where I Belong
Submitted by: Evangeline Eames
It's not a confession, more of a reminisence. Remembering certain things in my life that were like flags waving, markers on the roadside, telling me which turns to take on this journey towards being Domme.
I have mentioned this before, the first time I remember the switch being thrown on my taste for bondage: I was maybe 7 or 8, playing cowboys and indians in my parents basement. There was a metal pole running from the floor to the ceiling - a support - and we were taking turns tying each other up. I remember wanted to be tied tighter, and the strange sense of excitement I felt tying others up. That switch has never been turned off.
I was bossy and even aggressive with boys as a teenager, and felt a thrill when I could best them or overpower them mentally or even physically (although that generally required some planning). I think I actually scared a few of my early boyfriends, not wanting them to move, wanting them to be passive, and even tying one up..although I really wasn't sure what to do past that.
I definitely disturbed more than one boy with my forays in to the ass area. I remember one moving my hand aside when he figured out what I had in mind and another simply getting up and walking out of the room. I've heard subs say that they felt like a freak at times. Well, as a domme I have too.
When I reached my mid twenties I became exposed to BDSM through the internet as well a few giggling forays in to the local fetish clubs (mostly gay). This was it, I thought. This is what I am feeling, this is what I want.
As I get older, my tastes have become more specific and my preferences crystalized. I like boys. I like retraining them. I like disciplining them. I like owning them. I like restricting them. I like fucking them like they are girls. To be here, with all of you, who accept that, who enjoy it too, and hell, who even think it is normal, is amazing. Acceptance. Everyone wants it. And here, I've found it.
It's not a confession, more of a reminisence. Remembering certain things in my life that were like flags waving, markers on the roadside, telling me which turns to take on this journey towards being Domme.
I have mentioned this before, the first time I remember the switch being thrown on my taste for bondage: I was maybe 7 or 8, playing cowboys and indians in my parents basement. There was a metal pole running from the floor to the ceiling - a support - and we were taking turns tying each other up. I remember wanted to be tied tighter, and the strange sense of excitement I felt tying others up. That switch has never been turned off.
I was bossy and even aggressive with boys as a teenager, and felt a thrill when I could best them or overpower them mentally or even physically (although that generally required some planning). I think I actually scared a few of my early boyfriends, not wanting them to move, wanting them to be passive, and even tying one up..although I really wasn't sure what to do past that.
I definitely disturbed more than one boy with my forays in to the ass area. I remember one moving my hand aside when he figured out what I had in mind and another simply getting up and walking out of the room. I've heard subs say that they felt like a freak at times. Well, as a domme I have too.
When I reached my mid twenties I became exposed to BDSM through the internet as well a few giggling forays in to the local fetish clubs (mostly gay). This was it, I thought. This is what I am feeling, this is what I want.
As I get older, my tastes have become more specific and my preferences crystalized. I like boys. I like retraining them. I like disciplining them. I like owning them. I like restricting them. I like fucking them like they are girls. To be here, with all of you, who accept that, who enjoy it too, and hell, who even think it is normal, is amazing. Acceptance. Everyone wants it. And here, I've found it.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Just an 'Ordinary' Household
Submitted anonymously by a submissive at Dominion.
My Mistress, my Wife, My Lady. We got married 5 years ago, 5 of the best but hardest working years of my life. Mistress runs this household and I? I clean, cook and make sure She is comfortable when She’s home. My day starts early as the alarm clock I hold close to my ear so She doesn’t awake, rings at 6 o clock. Silently I leave the bed, watching Her pretty sleeping face and holding myself back from kissing her soft lips. She must not awake yet, if She does, I’m in big trouble. Fully naked I walk into the kitchen, putting on my apron, the cold plastic touching my skin makes me shiver. Two slices of toasted bread with some butter and jelly, a glass of orange juice…freshly made of course and a cup of tea. Its not a fancy breakfast but its how my Mistress likes it, so that’s what I make. I carefully pick up the tray and walk slowly towards the bedroom again, careful not to spill a drop of anything. I put the tray on the table beside Her bed and kisses Her cheek softly until she wakes up. ‘Good morning my sweet Mistress’ I whisper in Her ear and then kneel down besides the bed. She smiles and looks at me with the sweetest eyes. ‘Good morning my pet’ she says softly and then stretches herself yawning. My eyes twinkle as I look at her beautiful half naked body before me. After 5 years my longing for Her is just big as it was in the beginning. She sees me staring at her and laughs, then sits back and reaches out for Her toast and tea. As she eats and drinks her breakfast in the most sensual way, I can only sit there and watch Her. Seeing her lips wrap around the toast each time she takes a bit, my fantasies run so wild that finally my chastity belt doesn’t feel as comfortable anymore. I stop staring and wiggle a bit on my butt in an attempt to shake that feeling of a little. She notices it and laughs again. This is Her game, this is what She loves and secretly, I love it just the same.
After Her breakfast, She goes into the shower and I clean up the tray and do the dishes as She gets ready for work. When She is dressed and walks into the living room, I drop down on my knees and can’t help but staring at Her. Man, in Her black Ladies business suit and black high boots, She looks HOT. Her eyes meet mine and the raised eyebrow causes me to quickly lower my head and face the floor. ‘Good boy’ I hear Her say. Then she walks up to the table and starts writing something down. Its my tasks for the day that’s She’s writing, a long list of chores. When She’s done She leaves the note on the table and walks up to me. I feel her hand grabbing my hair as she pulls, this time forcing me to face Her. ‘you know what I expect, don’t you pet?’ She says. I try to nod in response but with Her hand in my hair, that’s not at all that easy, so I softly say ‘Yes, Mistress’. She smiles. ‘Good boy, and you also know what happens if it is not done by the time I am back, don’t you pet?’. I shiver at the thought of that and softly squeek ‘Y-yes Mistress’. She kisses my lips softly before letting go of my hair. ‘Good boy, if you’re good today, you might get a treat tonight’ She says smirking and slowly walks off, grabbing Her briefcase and closing the door behind Her.
When I hear the car start and take off, I get up and walk up to the table. The list of chores is long again. Doing dishes, dusting, vacuum cleaning, clean the bathroom, do some laundry…iron Her clothes. After eating some breakfast myself, I start on the list, still only wearing the apron and of course, the chastity belt. The cleaning makes me sweaty and the plastic apron sticks to my body. Its not very comfortable but knowing that my Mistress loves this look on me, makes it all worthwhile and even a bit exciting. After a lot of cleaning, I can finally start on ironing Her clothes. Ironing is not my talent so I have to stay focused and concentrated on this job to do it right. Her pants and skirts aren’t that hard, one after one I iron them and then fold them neatly. I reach out to grab the next piece of clothing, but holds and gasps. The piece of clothing in front of me is my Mistress favourite piece of clothing, a sexy red blouse that looks so hot on Her. My imagination runs wild for a moment, thinking of Her in that sexy blouse, I feel my cock throb a little in my cbt. With trembling hands I grab the blouse and lay it down in front of me. ‘Don’t mess this up’ I whisper to myself, worried that I might ruin my Mistress fav piece of clothing. I start moving the iron over the blouse, removing all wrinkles one by one and taking care that the fold are in the right place. It is going pretty well, my fear slowly disappears and I get a smile on my face. My thoughts start running wild again, thinking of my Mistress in this blouse. I smile, feeling all warm and excited inside. Then, something cruelly awakes me from this daydream. A strong burning smell slowly enters my nose. I quickly look down and see how the iron I still have in my hand, is burning a fast growing hole in the middle of my Mistress favourite red blouse. ‘Oh…..my….god’. Quickly I remove the iron and in my panic I press my hand flat on top of the burning hole. The heat burns through my skin and stings, but my panic is too big to really notice that. When I remove my hand, I instantly see the huge hole with black burned edges. I gulp hard and fall down to my knees, sobbing softly. ‘Not good, not…goooood’, I whisper to myself. I want to disappear into thin air, into a hole in the floor, just get the hell out of there. But at the same time, I can’t seem to move, like I’m stuck, the panic has taken control of my muscles.
Hours go by and I’m still down there on the floor, sobbing softly, next to my miserably failed little iron project. I hear keys, a click….the front door opens slowly. My heart beat raises again instantly and I start to shake. I am supposed to welcome my Mistress by crawling up to Her and kissing her boots, saying how much I missed Her today. But I…I can’t. Again I wish there would appear a big hole in the floor where I could fall through. I feel so bad, ruining Her blouse, disappointing Her so badly and at the same time, I am scared as hell, not knowing exactly what will happen but knowing it won’t be pleasant. She says nothing, doesn’t call for him, doesn’t ask why he is not there to greet Her. She knows already. I hear Her take of Her jacket and put down her briefcase, as She walks into the living room. I remain silent but my whole body trembles. Suddenly She speaks in a serious, strict voice; ‘when you are done sobbing and feeling sorry for yourself, my pet, come here and show Me what you have done’.
I gulp hard, how did She know? I realize that letting Her wait on me, will not make things better and slowly start moving my butt. The red blouse with the huge hole in it, is still laying there. Seeing it again, my heart jumps a few times and my stomach turns around in pure desperation. I pick it up and crawl my way to the bedroom, opening the door, I pause. There She is, sitting in Her chair, her legs and arms crossed, looking directly at me with a stern face. Where is that hole when I need it! Is the only thought running through my head. I swallow hard and start crawling my way towards Her, the ruined blouse laying over my shoulder. I stop at Her feet and kneel, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground, my head hanging low. ‘G..greetings my Mistress’ I stammer. She doesn’t say anything but I feel her moving forward, picking up Her blouse from my shoulder. I shiver as the fabric slides over my skin.
I stay silent for a while, but I can’t control myself emotions for long and burst out in tears, repeatedly saying in a semi-loud voice ‘I am so sorry Mistress, I am so sorry’. She grabs my hair hard, pulling my head up so that my teary, desperate eyes meet Hers. In a slow but loud, strict voice She says ‘How…the….fuck…did this happen, boy’. I want to tell Her how I was thinking of Her seeing that blouse, how my thoughts ran wild, how I was loving Her, how I was longing for Her when that accident happened. But I know, it wont do any good and instead stay silent, moving my eyes away in fear. She grabs my chin with Her other hand and with a quick move, pulls my head fully in Her direction again, with the words ‘Look at Me, pet’. I do as told, again seeing the stern look on Her face. I stammer and squeek ‘I..am so sorry Mistress’. ‘That won’t do you much good, boy’ She responds. Suddenly my Mistress gets up, holding on to my hair still an walks off to the bedroom, dragging me behind Her painfully pulling my hair. With Her hand still attached to my hair She can force me everywhere She wants and in a quick move of Her hands and a nod of Her head, She makes sure I know what to do and lay myself face down onto the bed. ‘Hands behind you in your neck’ She orders and I do as told. Then She takes the ruined blouse and uses it to at the same time gag me while She attaches it also to my wrists, locking my hands behind me. Some would call it inventive, I call it a wicked sense of humour too. There I am, laying facedown, gagged and bound, my legs, butt and back completely bare and ready for whatever She decides to do with it. ‘You messed up, pet’ She says in a slow but loud, strict voice. I can only nod my head a little bit and mumble something like ‘Yes, Mistress’. ‘And now, you’re gonna pay’, She continues. I gulp hard but at the same time those words, make my cock throb wildly again into my cbt, my poor cock, as bound as I am myself right now. I hear Her open the cabinet, where all Her tools are carefully placed away and pray to myself ‘not the cane…not…the caneee’. She takes out…the cane. ‘This is gonna hurt, pet, but after this, you will never make this mistake again, is that understood?’. I nod slowly again and squeak something through my gagged mouth. I feel Her dragging the cane along my legs, my butt and over my back. I shiver. Then without any clear warning the cane strikes hard one time, directly on my ass, sending a sharp, biting sting all the way through. I wiggle my butt hard in response. ‘Lay still BOY!’ She says loudly and again strikes with the cane, harder than the first one and almost on the same spot. I lay still, closing my eyes, my breathing goes faster as well as my heart but I don’t dare say a word or move a muscle. She strikes and strikes one after the other, with short pauses in between, and all over my legs, butt and back. The stinging pain gets worse and worse and not moving or making a sound, harder than ever before. The pain causes the throbbing in my cock to stop, this is just too much pain to be exciting. But somehow, this painful punishment makes my love for my Mistress even greater than before. There’s a sting in my butt and back but a huge warmth in my heart that compensates for it. Then She stops suddenly and it is quiet. She stands there and I feel Her just looking at me, checking out the marks that cover my body. I have no idea what goes through Her mind right now, I have never been able to read the minds of Dommes and know what They’re thinking. I just hold still and wait, not knowing what is happening next.
Then I feel Her warm soft hand touching my stinging butt, slowly rubbing it a bit. I shiver again and again a feeling of warmth and love goes through my body. Her stroking of my stinging body is so overwhelming, my love for Her so big, it brings a few tears to my eyes. She spots them and lays next to me, wiping my teary face and kissing my nose gently. Then She turns me onto my side, lays behind me and pulls my aching body against Hers, slowly kissing every mark on my stinging back, and rubbing my chest with Her hand. I purr softly in snuggling close to Her, feeling safe and cared for, in Her arms. She kisses my cheeks and whispers in my ear ‘I love you, my pet…just….don’t ever…do that again’. I smile shy and nod my head, still gagged with the now soaking piece of burned up blouse. Then She snuggles even more close against my painful body and lays Her head down against me. I sigh contently, feeling Her warmth, Her love and knowing….this is how its meant to be. Together, we fall asleep.
My Mistress, my Wife, My Lady. We got married 5 years ago, 5 of the best but hardest working years of my life. Mistress runs this household and I? I clean, cook and make sure She is comfortable when She’s home. My day starts early as the alarm clock I hold close to my ear so She doesn’t awake, rings at 6 o clock. Silently I leave the bed, watching Her pretty sleeping face and holding myself back from kissing her soft lips. She must not awake yet, if She does, I’m in big trouble. Fully naked I walk into the kitchen, putting on my apron, the cold plastic touching my skin makes me shiver. Two slices of toasted bread with some butter and jelly, a glass of orange juice…freshly made of course and a cup of tea. Its not a fancy breakfast but its how my Mistress likes it, so that’s what I make. I carefully pick up the tray and walk slowly towards the bedroom again, careful not to spill a drop of anything. I put the tray on the table beside Her bed and kisses Her cheek softly until she wakes up. ‘Good morning my sweet Mistress’ I whisper in Her ear and then kneel down besides the bed. She smiles and looks at me with the sweetest eyes. ‘Good morning my pet’ she says softly and then stretches herself yawning. My eyes twinkle as I look at her beautiful half naked body before me. After 5 years my longing for Her is just big as it was in the beginning. She sees me staring at her and laughs, then sits back and reaches out for Her toast and tea. As she eats and drinks her breakfast in the most sensual way, I can only sit there and watch Her. Seeing her lips wrap around the toast each time she takes a bit, my fantasies run so wild that finally my chastity belt doesn’t feel as comfortable anymore. I stop staring and wiggle a bit on my butt in an attempt to shake that feeling of a little. She notices it and laughs again. This is Her game, this is what She loves and secretly, I love it just the same.
After Her breakfast, She goes into the shower and I clean up the tray and do the dishes as She gets ready for work. When She is dressed and walks into the living room, I drop down on my knees and can’t help but staring at Her. Man, in Her black Ladies business suit and black high boots, She looks HOT. Her eyes meet mine and the raised eyebrow causes me to quickly lower my head and face the floor. ‘Good boy’ I hear Her say. Then she walks up to the table and starts writing something down. Its my tasks for the day that’s She’s writing, a long list of chores. When She’s done She leaves the note on the table and walks up to me. I feel her hand grabbing my hair as she pulls, this time forcing me to face Her. ‘you know what I expect, don’t you pet?’ She says. I try to nod in response but with Her hand in my hair, that’s not at all that easy, so I softly say ‘Yes, Mistress’. She smiles. ‘Good boy, and you also know what happens if it is not done by the time I am back, don’t you pet?’. I shiver at the thought of that and softly squeek ‘Y-yes Mistress’. She kisses my lips softly before letting go of my hair. ‘Good boy, if you’re good today, you might get a treat tonight’ She says smirking and slowly walks off, grabbing Her briefcase and closing the door behind Her.
When I hear the car start and take off, I get up and walk up to the table. The list of chores is long again. Doing dishes, dusting, vacuum cleaning, clean the bathroom, do some laundry…iron Her clothes. After eating some breakfast myself, I start on the list, still only wearing the apron and of course, the chastity belt. The cleaning makes me sweaty and the plastic apron sticks to my body. Its not very comfortable but knowing that my Mistress loves this look on me, makes it all worthwhile and even a bit exciting. After a lot of cleaning, I can finally start on ironing Her clothes. Ironing is not my talent so I have to stay focused and concentrated on this job to do it right. Her pants and skirts aren’t that hard, one after one I iron them and then fold them neatly. I reach out to grab the next piece of clothing, but holds and gasps. The piece of clothing in front of me is my Mistress favourite piece of clothing, a sexy red blouse that looks so hot on Her. My imagination runs wild for a moment, thinking of Her in that sexy blouse, I feel my cock throb a little in my cbt. With trembling hands I grab the blouse and lay it down in front of me. ‘Don’t mess this up’ I whisper to myself, worried that I might ruin my Mistress fav piece of clothing. I start moving the iron over the blouse, removing all wrinkles one by one and taking care that the fold are in the right place. It is going pretty well, my fear slowly disappears and I get a smile on my face. My thoughts start running wild again, thinking of my Mistress in this blouse. I smile, feeling all warm and excited inside. Then, something cruelly awakes me from this daydream. A strong burning smell slowly enters my nose. I quickly look down and see how the iron I still have in my hand, is burning a fast growing hole in the middle of my Mistress favourite red blouse. ‘Oh…..my….god’. Quickly I remove the iron and in my panic I press my hand flat on top of the burning hole. The heat burns through my skin and stings, but my panic is too big to really notice that. When I remove my hand, I instantly see the huge hole with black burned edges. I gulp hard and fall down to my knees, sobbing softly. ‘Not good, not…goooood’, I whisper to myself. I want to disappear into thin air, into a hole in the floor, just get the hell out of there. But at the same time, I can’t seem to move, like I’m stuck, the panic has taken control of my muscles.
Hours go by and I’m still down there on the floor, sobbing softly, next to my miserably failed little iron project. I hear keys, a click….the front door opens slowly. My heart beat raises again instantly and I start to shake. I am supposed to welcome my Mistress by crawling up to Her and kissing her boots, saying how much I missed Her today. But I…I can’t. Again I wish there would appear a big hole in the floor where I could fall through. I feel so bad, ruining Her blouse, disappointing Her so badly and at the same time, I am scared as hell, not knowing exactly what will happen but knowing it won’t be pleasant. She says nothing, doesn’t call for him, doesn’t ask why he is not there to greet Her. She knows already. I hear Her take of Her jacket and put down her briefcase, as She walks into the living room. I remain silent but my whole body trembles. Suddenly She speaks in a serious, strict voice; ‘when you are done sobbing and feeling sorry for yourself, my pet, come here and show Me what you have done’.
I gulp hard, how did She know? I realize that letting Her wait on me, will not make things better and slowly start moving my butt. The red blouse with the huge hole in it, is still laying there. Seeing it again, my heart jumps a few times and my stomach turns around in pure desperation. I pick it up and crawl my way to the bedroom, opening the door, I pause. There She is, sitting in Her chair, her legs and arms crossed, looking directly at me with a stern face. Where is that hole when I need it! Is the only thought running through my head. I swallow hard and start crawling my way towards Her, the ruined blouse laying over my shoulder. I stop at Her feet and kneel, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground, my head hanging low. ‘G..greetings my Mistress’ I stammer. She doesn’t say anything but I feel her moving forward, picking up Her blouse from my shoulder. I shiver as the fabric slides over my skin.
I stay silent for a while, but I can’t control myself emotions for long and burst out in tears, repeatedly saying in a semi-loud voice ‘I am so sorry Mistress, I am so sorry’. She grabs my hair hard, pulling my head up so that my teary, desperate eyes meet Hers. In a slow but loud, strict voice She says ‘How…the….fuck…did this happen, boy’. I want to tell Her how I was thinking of Her seeing that blouse, how my thoughts ran wild, how I was loving Her, how I was longing for Her when that accident happened. But I know, it wont do any good and instead stay silent, moving my eyes away in fear. She grabs my chin with Her other hand and with a quick move, pulls my head fully in Her direction again, with the words ‘Look at Me, pet’. I do as told, again seeing the stern look on Her face. I stammer and squeek ‘I..am so sorry Mistress’. ‘That won’t do you much good, boy’ She responds. Suddenly my Mistress gets up, holding on to my hair still an walks off to the bedroom, dragging me behind Her painfully pulling my hair. With Her hand still attached to my hair She can force me everywhere She wants and in a quick move of Her hands and a nod of Her head, She makes sure I know what to do and lay myself face down onto the bed. ‘Hands behind you in your neck’ She orders and I do as told. Then She takes the ruined blouse and uses it to at the same time gag me while She attaches it also to my wrists, locking my hands behind me. Some would call it inventive, I call it a wicked sense of humour too. There I am, laying facedown, gagged and bound, my legs, butt and back completely bare and ready for whatever She decides to do with it. ‘You messed up, pet’ She says in a slow but loud, strict voice. I can only nod my head a little bit and mumble something like ‘Yes, Mistress’. ‘And now, you’re gonna pay’, She continues. I gulp hard but at the same time those words, make my cock throb wildly again into my cbt, my poor cock, as bound as I am myself right now. I hear Her open the cabinet, where all Her tools are carefully placed away and pray to myself ‘not the cane…not…the caneee’. She takes out…the cane. ‘This is gonna hurt, pet, but after this, you will never make this mistake again, is that understood?’. I nod slowly again and squeak something through my gagged mouth. I feel Her dragging the cane along my legs, my butt and over my back. I shiver. Then without any clear warning the cane strikes hard one time, directly on my ass, sending a sharp, biting sting all the way through. I wiggle my butt hard in response. ‘Lay still BOY!’ She says loudly and again strikes with the cane, harder than the first one and almost on the same spot. I lay still, closing my eyes, my breathing goes faster as well as my heart but I don’t dare say a word or move a muscle. She strikes and strikes one after the other, with short pauses in between, and all over my legs, butt and back. The stinging pain gets worse and worse and not moving or making a sound, harder than ever before. The pain causes the throbbing in my cock to stop, this is just too much pain to be exciting. But somehow, this painful punishment makes my love for my Mistress even greater than before. There’s a sting in my butt and back but a huge warmth in my heart that compensates for it. Then She stops suddenly and it is quiet. She stands there and I feel Her just looking at me, checking out the marks that cover my body. I have no idea what goes through Her mind right now, I have never been able to read the minds of Dommes and know what They’re thinking. I just hold still and wait, not knowing what is happening next.
Then I feel Her warm soft hand touching my stinging butt, slowly rubbing it a bit. I shiver again and again a feeling of warmth and love goes through my body. Her stroking of my stinging body is so overwhelming, my love for Her so big, it brings a few tears to my eyes. She spots them and lays next to me, wiping my teary face and kissing my nose gently. Then She turns me onto my side, lays behind me and pulls my aching body against Hers, slowly kissing every mark on my stinging back, and rubbing my chest with Her hand. I purr softly in snuggling close to Her, feeling safe and cared for, in Her arms. She kisses my cheeks and whispers in my ear ‘I love you, my pet…just….don’t ever…do that again’. I smile shy and nod my head, still gagged with the now soaking piece of burned up blouse. Then She snuggles even more close against my painful body and lays Her head down against me. I sigh contently, feeling Her warmth, Her love and knowing….this is how its meant to be. Together, we fall asleep.
Confession for Mistress
Submitted by: Xian Yuheng
Mistress is with me throughout my day. i awake in the morning, full of need for Mistress, my cock alive, my heart wanting. i eagerly check my offlines, awaiting Her morning message. my anxiety rises when i don't see it...and i check over and over when i can. until i finally see it...and She fills me with joy, wishing me well on my day. i reply eagerly to Mistress, wishing Her the same, telling Her the first of countless times per day that i love Her. i go into work and plan to be available for Her daily call to me. i can be in the middle of something but i will excuse myself to go to Her when She beckons. Her voice is soothing and yet strong...reassuring. And...honest. She puts me at peace with "hello." my need is momentarily satisfied. i reschedule my lunch to meet Her at midday. nowadays She must take care of other responsibilities for the most part, and that still saddens me a bit because She is so close...yet so far. But She does speak to me, and i'm so grateful for that attention. the afternoon is agonizing at times. i think of Her often...and sometimes She messages me to let me know She has been thinking of me as well. that makes me so happy...i'm not sure Mistress knows how much that means to me. i do not get to see Mistress every night. but when i do, i am giddy as a little happy puppy dog. my need to please Mistress overflows...and i am not fearful to show Her. Mistress is generous with me in Her time, patience, and attention. And She makes sure i am well when She puts me to bed. As when i awake in the morning, She too is in my thoughts as i drift to sleep at night.
you see...i love Mistress. i am in love with Mistress. i need Mistress...and i desperately desire to please Her. Mistress empowers me and educates me. Mistress cares for me and guides me. i hope that She is happy with me...the barest of smiles from Mistress sending me into elation. i live my life in two states, either with Mistress or in anticipation of being with Mistress. there is no "without Mistress" for She is forever in my heart. Mistress gives me a sense of purpose and direction that i have never known before...and it is Mistress with whom i forever belong.
Your devoted pet,
xian
Mistress is with me throughout my day. i awake in the morning, full of need for Mistress, my cock alive, my heart wanting. i eagerly check my offlines, awaiting Her morning message. my anxiety rises when i don't see it...and i check over and over when i can. until i finally see it...and She fills me with joy, wishing me well on my day. i reply eagerly to Mistress, wishing Her the same, telling Her the first of countless times per day that i love Her. i go into work and plan to be available for Her daily call to me. i can be in the middle of something but i will excuse myself to go to Her when She beckons. Her voice is soothing and yet strong...reassuring. And...honest. She puts me at peace with "hello." my need is momentarily satisfied. i reschedule my lunch to meet Her at midday. nowadays She must take care of other responsibilities for the most part, and that still saddens me a bit because She is so close...yet so far. But She does speak to me, and i'm so grateful for that attention. the afternoon is agonizing at times. i think of Her often...and sometimes She messages me to let me know She has been thinking of me as well. that makes me so happy...i'm not sure Mistress knows how much that means to me. i do not get to see Mistress every night. but when i do, i am giddy as a little happy puppy dog. my need to please Mistress overflows...and i am not fearful to show Her. Mistress is generous with me in Her time, patience, and attention. And She makes sure i am well when She puts me to bed. As when i awake in the morning, She too is in my thoughts as i drift to sleep at night.
you see...i love Mistress. i am in love with Mistress. i need Mistress...and i desperately desire to please Her. Mistress empowers me and educates me. Mistress cares for me and guides me. i hope that She is happy with me...the barest of smiles from Mistress sending me into elation. i live my life in two states, either with Mistress or in anticipation of being with Mistress. there is no "without Mistress" for She is forever in my heart. Mistress gives me a sense of purpose and direction that i have never known before...and it is Mistress with whom i forever belong.
Your devoted pet,
xian
I Hate Humiliation... I Think... Wait
Submitted anonymously by a submissive at Dominion
Humiliation is one of the hardest things for me to endure. I know there's plenty of submissives that crave it and feed off it, but I am dead serious when I say I am not among them. I don't want to feel embarrassed, I don't want to be the center of attention, I don't want people staring at me. And yet, it brings me to a place I crave to be.
Humiliation is the abasement of pride, which creates mortification or leads to a state of being humbled or reduced to lowliness or submission. I find it interesting that the word 'submission' is at the end of the definition (which I got off wikipedia). Perhaps humiliation is at the core of submission and it's unavoidable.
I love feeling helpless, overpowered, beaten down and unable to resist. It's a state I need help getting to. A long hard beating can do it, can put me there for hours. Being told to strip in front of a room full of people gets me there a whole lot faster, and that's because of humiliation. Or is it embarrassment? Is there a difference? I don't mean to say that I'm ashamed of my body, I'm just ashamed to be forced to be naked in front of others, to be unable to hide my body, to be unable to hide my arousal. Is this humiliation?
There's various degrees of humiliation, of course. Just being naked versus being naked and having to oil wrestle. Or having to wear women's clothing. Or even more drastic things that eliminate all possibility of dignity or attractiveness. At some point I have a line where it turns from something that puts me into that space I want to be and something that starts to erode my ego and becomes negative. I'm not sure where that line is, and I think it's a moving target.
I don't crave humiliation itself, please make no mistake about that. I only crave where it'll bring me. I need to walk through fire to get to a place where I'll smolder. I know I react well to some forms of it, and that fact makes me feel like my body's betraying me.
I don't fully understand, and over the past few months it's getting more and more confusing to me. There was a time when I would simply beg to avoid it. But now I'm starting to realize that maybe my humiliation is a gift to a dominant. It's my place to provide entertainment if ordered to do so, no matter how hard it is for me to do so. It's their desire to see me fall into a state of submission, of helplessness and being lost. The fact that it's so damn difficult for me might make it that much more satisfying to them. Thus, my first instinct is to avoid it, my second is to realize that I, as a submissive, need to suffer through it to reach a goal that is pleasurable both for myself and for those imposing this unique form of psychological violence upon me.
I've seen some amazing things in my short time at Dominion. People put into situations that make me cringe to think about what they must be going through. But they seem to feed off it and thoroughly enjoy it. Are they enjoying the humiliation itself, or are they like me, they only enjoy where it takes them? Do they even know? Am I splitting hairs here? Is it possible that too much humiliation too often takes the edge off it? Like building up a tolerance to a drug, does it lose effectiveness, does it cause one to have to go further and further to even more humiliating depths to have an effect? I don't even want to think about that.
In the end, these choices are not mine, I know. I'm not really the one who has to find these answers, but by realizing that there is a goal beyond just the humiliation itself, perhaps that will help me to endure it when it happens.
It is hard to write this, knowing there may be those amongst the readers who are in control of me and may take advantage. My guess is…they already know this. They probably know me better than I do myself. If not, then this confession is like handing them a loaded gun and aiming it at my head and I'll be regretting writing it pretty damn quick.
To those I just handed the gun to, please try to remember that humiliation is one of the hardest things for me. Give some consideration to using a whip instead, it's so much easier to bear. And I don't look good in panties. That last part is important.
Humiliation is one of the hardest things for me to endure. I know there's plenty of submissives that crave it and feed off it, but I am dead serious when I say I am not among them. I don't want to feel embarrassed, I don't want to be the center of attention, I don't want people staring at me. And yet, it brings me to a place I crave to be.
Humiliation is the abasement of pride, which creates mortification or leads to a state of being humbled or reduced to lowliness or submission. I find it interesting that the word 'submission' is at the end of the definition (which I got off wikipedia). Perhaps humiliation is at the core of submission and it's unavoidable.
I love feeling helpless, overpowered, beaten down and unable to resist. It's a state I need help getting to. A long hard beating can do it, can put me there for hours. Being told to strip in front of a room full of people gets me there a whole lot faster, and that's because of humiliation. Or is it embarrassment? Is there a difference? I don't mean to say that I'm ashamed of my body, I'm just ashamed to be forced to be naked in front of others, to be unable to hide my body, to be unable to hide my arousal. Is this humiliation?
There's various degrees of humiliation, of course. Just being naked versus being naked and having to oil wrestle. Or having to wear women's clothing. Or even more drastic things that eliminate all possibility of dignity or attractiveness. At some point I have a line where it turns from something that puts me into that space I want to be and something that starts to erode my ego and becomes negative. I'm not sure where that line is, and I think it's a moving target.
I don't crave humiliation itself, please make no mistake about that. I only crave where it'll bring me. I need to walk through fire to get to a place where I'll smolder. I know I react well to some forms of it, and that fact makes me feel like my body's betraying me.
I don't fully understand, and over the past few months it's getting more and more confusing to me. There was a time when I would simply beg to avoid it. But now I'm starting to realize that maybe my humiliation is a gift to a dominant. It's my place to provide entertainment if ordered to do so, no matter how hard it is for me to do so. It's their desire to see me fall into a state of submission, of helplessness and being lost. The fact that it's so damn difficult for me might make it that much more satisfying to them. Thus, my first instinct is to avoid it, my second is to realize that I, as a submissive, need to suffer through it to reach a goal that is pleasurable both for myself and for those imposing this unique form of psychological violence upon me.
I've seen some amazing things in my short time at Dominion. People put into situations that make me cringe to think about what they must be going through. But they seem to feed off it and thoroughly enjoy it. Are they enjoying the humiliation itself, or are they like me, they only enjoy where it takes them? Do they even know? Am I splitting hairs here? Is it possible that too much humiliation too often takes the edge off it? Like building up a tolerance to a drug, does it lose effectiveness, does it cause one to have to go further and further to even more humiliating depths to have an effect? I don't even want to think about that.
In the end, these choices are not mine, I know. I'm not really the one who has to find these answers, but by realizing that there is a goal beyond just the humiliation itself, perhaps that will help me to endure it when it happens.
It is hard to write this, knowing there may be those amongst the readers who are in control of me and may take advantage. My guess is…they already know this. They probably know me better than I do myself. If not, then this confession is like handing them a loaded gun and aiming it at my head and I'll be regretting writing it pretty damn quick.
To those I just handed the gun to, please try to remember that humiliation is one of the hardest things for me. Give some consideration to using a whip instead, it's so much easier to bear. And I don't look good in panties. That last part is important.
The Small Step Journey
Submitted by: Heart Himmel
There’s this path that I am traveling
it isn’t very wide
there’s obstacles along the way
most each and every stride.
It twists and turns and rambles
going on forever more
and my back aches from its burdens
and my feet forever sore.
Yet I must keep on traveling
down this path I chose to tread
and should my bones grow weary
I’ll sit and lay my head.
For now I’m doing good though
one glance is all I need
as step by step I wander
walking onward at slow speed.
I turned and glanced the other day
back from whence I been
the path bore only footprints
small spaces in between.
As far as my old eyes could see
past the horizon I surmise
each small step I’d made in life
a deed, a word, a choice.
What lies ahead I do not know
but one thing is very clear
the time has come to say farewell
to memories once held dear.
The sun sets as the moon appears
stars twinkling in the sky
the path in shadow now
and I need to close my eyes.
So sleep I must and dreams abound
not haunting any more
for finally I know for sure
that I have closed a door.
I’ll look back no more in sorrow
I’ll look forward and be calm
for I’ve made small steps that led me
through the darkness to your arms.
So hold me there tonight love
tomorrow is unknown
and on your chest I’ll lay my head
and not be alone.
No other shall I place above you
for no one matters more
for I finally know for certain
that I have closed the door.
The past is gone behind me
the future lies round the bend
what matters is right here, right now
I’ll get there in the end.
So let love’s light guide me
as a tread this path so long
for I know that it will take me
to the place where I belong.
There’s this path that I am traveling
it isn’t very wide
there’s obstacles along the way
most each and every stride.
It twists and turns and rambles
going on forever more
and my back aches from its burdens
and my feet forever sore.
Yet I must keep on traveling
down this path I chose to tread
and should my bones grow weary
I’ll sit and lay my head.
For now I’m doing good though
one glance is all I need
as step by step I wander
walking onward at slow speed.
I turned and glanced the other day
back from whence I been
the path bore only footprints
small spaces in between.
As far as my old eyes could see
past the horizon I surmise
each small step I’d made in life
a deed, a word, a choice.
What lies ahead I do not know
but one thing is very clear
the time has come to say farewell
to memories once held dear.
The sun sets as the moon appears
stars twinkling in the sky
the path in shadow now
and I need to close my eyes.
So sleep I must and dreams abound
not haunting any more
for finally I know for sure
that I have closed a door.
I’ll look back no more in sorrow
I’ll look forward and be calm
for I’ve made small steps that led me
through the darkness to your arms.
So hold me there tonight love
tomorrow is unknown
and on your chest I’ll lay my head
and not be alone.
No other shall I place above you
for no one matters more
for I finally know for certain
that I have closed the door.
The past is gone behind me
the future lies round the bend
what matters is right here, right now
I’ll get there in the end.
So let love’s light guide me
as a tread this path so long
for I know that it will take me
to the place where I belong.
The World is a Different Place Now...
Submitted anonymously by a submissive at Dominion.
The world is a different place now. I often thought about the stories that older boys would share when there were no female ears to hear. Days when men had positions of power, days when men had some amount of equality – no, more than that – when they considered themselves to be superior to Ladies, they had successful careers, and they could go out alone; oh what marvellous days those must have been!
Nowadays, all boys are fitted with a custom cock cage when they reach puberty; it has become as regular as going to the dentist for a check-up, to have the cock cage checked for size was now a six monthly routine. Once fitted, the keys were all kept securely in a safe at the School; there was to be no sexual activity for boys (other than a quite frequent and painful erection) until they had reached the legal age. Indeed, the girls knew just exactly how to cause the most frustrating discomfort for the boys, and rarely refrained from doing just that!
As soon as a boy had reached the legal age his teacher would send him to the school nurse, and she would make sure to let the boy know just exactly what he would soon be missing. That first session with the nurse would take perhaps an hour, sometimes longer. The cock cage was removed, and the boy would be brought to edge after edge, which would render the boy aroused beyond anything he had ever previously experienced, and then … WOW … his first explosive release. The experience was so unlike anything they had hitherto felt that many boys were known to pass out at the point of climax the feeling was so intense.
As he was recovering from that experience, the nurse would refit the cock cage and lock it securely. The key was then sent to the boy’s home along with a certificate to show that he had been properly released into chastity. All boys had to address the girls as Ladies from now on, and use their proper title of “Miss”. Boys continued to be referred to as “boy”.
After this initiation they would start to attend a weekly sexual health class. Before long this was dreaded by the boys, and unsurprisingly, was enjoyed by the Ladies. In this class the boys were taught how to pleasure a Lady with each girl being allocated a different boy each week, so that boys would get to understand how to pleasure any Lady. It inevitably caused a prolonged and frustratingly painful erection for the boys and several (usually very noisy) climaxes for the Ladies. The Ladies would give marks for their boy according to their performance, with marks awarded in several categories including oral and massage skills, and an overall “satisfaction” mark.
Prostate milking was part of a boy’s health regime, and while in school this was administered by the older girls. Once a month, the boys would find that their gym class had been rescheduled and that they would be lined up, naked, while the older girls came and each selected their allocated boy for this month’s session. We soon got to know which Ladies were nice, and which others enjoyed making the process very painful!
Once or twice a term there was a school dance where we were instructed to bring our keys into school. We knew that we were in for a real torment, with just the slender possibility of release. The Ladies would each apply to hold the key for Her preferred “date” for the dance, which would usually be worn on a slender chain around Her neck. The Lady would also have a locket on Her chain, which would have the results from the recent sexual health classes.
So long as the boys were sufficiently attentive to the Lady during the dance they were usually allowed out of their cock cage, and even allowed to get hard, which didn’t usually take very long! Whether they would be allowed release though depended on whether the Lady considered that his score from the sexual health classes was sufficient to warrant release. Each Lady decided whether the marks were high enough, and even if no release was the decision She would usually let the boy think he was going to be allowed to cum.
Being attentive also meant that the boys would hold back from release until the Lady had had several climaxes of Her own, which usually resulted in the boys face being quite awash with Her juices, and his very erect cock straining and throbbing and bobbing about while he was brought to edge after edge awaiting the verdict and the instruction to cum, or to stop. If instructed to cum the boy would have only 3 more strokes allowed to achieve his release. Either way he was locked back into his cock cage immediately.
It is no surprise that it only usually took one or two dances when the boy was not allowed to cum for his efforts in the sexual health classes to become increasingly enthusiastic!!
The world is a different place now. I often thought about the stories that older boys would share when there were no female ears to hear. Days when men had positions of power, days when men had some amount of equality – no, more than that – when they considered themselves to be superior to Ladies, they had successful careers, and they could go out alone; oh what marvellous days those must have been!
Nowadays, all boys are fitted with a custom cock cage when they reach puberty; it has become as regular as going to the dentist for a check-up, to have the cock cage checked for size was now a six monthly routine. Once fitted, the keys were all kept securely in a safe at the School; there was to be no sexual activity for boys (other than a quite frequent and painful erection) until they had reached the legal age. Indeed, the girls knew just exactly how to cause the most frustrating discomfort for the boys, and rarely refrained from doing just that!
As soon as a boy had reached the legal age his teacher would send him to the school nurse, and she would make sure to let the boy know just exactly what he would soon be missing. That first session with the nurse would take perhaps an hour, sometimes longer. The cock cage was removed, and the boy would be brought to edge after edge, which would render the boy aroused beyond anything he had ever previously experienced, and then … WOW … his first explosive release. The experience was so unlike anything they had hitherto felt that many boys were known to pass out at the point of climax the feeling was so intense.
As he was recovering from that experience, the nurse would refit the cock cage and lock it securely. The key was then sent to the boy’s home along with a certificate to show that he had been properly released into chastity. All boys had to address the girls as Ladies from now on, and use their proper title of “Miss”. Boys continued to be referred to as “boy”.
After this initiation they would start to attend a weekly sexual health class. Before long this was dreaded by the boys, and unsurprisingly, was enjoyed by the Ladies. In this class the boys were taught how to pleasure a Lady with each girl being allocated a different boy each week, so that boys would get to understand how to pleasure any Lady. It inevitably caused a prolonged and frustratingly painful erection for the boys and several (usually very noisy) climaxes for the Ladies. The Ladies would give marks for their boy according to their performance, with marks awarded in several categories including oral and massage skills, and an overall “satisfaction” mark.
Prostate milking was part of a boy’s health regime, and while in school this was administered by the older girls. Once a month, the boys would find that their gym class had been rescheduled and that they would be lined up, naked, while the older girls came and each selected their allocated boy for this month’s session. We soon got to know which Ladies were nice, and which others enjoyed making the process very painful!
Once or twice a term there was a school dance where we were instructed to bring our keys into school. We knew that we were in for a real torment, with just the slender possibility of release. The Ladies would each apply to hold the key for Her preferred “date” for the dance, which would usually be worn on a slender chain around Her neck. The Lady would also have a locket on Her chain, which would have the results from the recent sexual health classes.
So long as the boys were sufficiently attentive to the Lady during the dance they were usually allowed out of their cock cage, and even allowed to get hard, which didn’t usually take very long! Whether they would be allowed release though depended on whether the Lady considered that his score from the sexual health classes was sufficient to warrant release. Each Lady decided whether the marks were high enough, and even if no release was the decision She would usually let the boy think he was going to be allowed to cum.
Being attentive also meant that the boys would hold back from release until the Lady had had several climaxes of Her own, which usually resulted in the boys face being quite awash with Her juices, and his very erect cock straining and throbbing and bobbing about while he was brought to edge after edge awaiting the verdict and the instruction to cum, or to stop. If instructed to cum the boy would have only 3 more strokes allowed to achieve his release. Either way he was locked back into his cock cage immediately.
It is no surprise that it only usually took one or two dances when the boy was not allowed to cum for his efforts in the sexual health classes to become increasingly enthusiastic!!
Submitted by: Errik Gears
I wake up in a daze hung from the rafters in intricate shibari ties my feet in the air and my hands tightly tyed to my lowed back . blindfold I can see nothing.I fight against the ties but the fight is pointless.left alone for a little while I hear the clicking of heels walking toward me it echos throughout the area.in a clear english accent I hear "oh so the bitch is awake now.. good now I can play with it" the blindfold is taken off finally able to see my surrounding I realize there is nothign to see only darkness but the sensual outline of a curvatious Female form in an obviously dominent stance.The Pain starts from here striek all along my body floggers canewhips and crops tenderizing my fleash. no words are spoken from the Domme only my unanswerd cries are heard. I hear muffled commands fromt eh Domme but they are not to me all the sudden I feel somthing poking into my mouth . a cock . I hear the domme "suck his dick you whore I know you wanted to anyway" a few more strikes and I fold sucking on it. under the impression as long as I suck I will not be hit.. wrong I will be hit nomatter what. eventually I am let down and bent over and used by the Domme a strap on apparently lossening me up for the male whole under command by the Domme to fuck me as she forced me to suck and lick whatever she put infront of my mouth while she scratched and hit my back with her insturments of torture.eventually the fucking stops and I am forced aagin to suck on the cock before it shoots in my face and the Domme makes me drink as much of it as possible. she laughs at me " you dirty dirty whore you just love the cock don't you?" she beats me again till finally she stops and I am left there breathing heavily deep in subspace I pass out...
Thats where it ends..flots of pain with a side of forced bi.
I wake up in a daze hung from the rafters in intricate shibari ties my feet in the air and my hands tightly tyed to my lowed back . blindfold I can see nothing.I fight against the ties but the fight is pointless.left alone for a little while I hear the clicking of heels walking toward me it echos throughout the area.in a clear english accent I hear "oh so the bitch is awake now.. good now I can play with it" the blindfold is taken off finally able to see my surrounding I realize there is nothign to see only darkness but the sensual outline of a curvatious Female form in an obviously dominent stance.The Pain starts from here striek all along my body floggers canewhips and crops tenderizing my fleash. no words are spoken from the Domme only my unanswerd cries are heard. I hear muffled commands fromt eh Domme but they are not to me all the sudden I feel somthing poking into my mouth . a cock . I hear the domme "suck his dick you whore I know you wanted to anyway" a few more strikes and I fold sucking on it. under the impression as long as I suck I will not be hit.. wrong I will be hit nomatter what. eventually I am let down and bent over and used by the Domme a strap on apparently lossening me up for the male whole under command by the Domme to fuck me as she forced me to suck and lick whatever she put infront of my mouth while she scratched and hit my back with her insturments of torture.eventually the fucking stops and I am forced aagin to suck on the cock before it shoots in my face and the Domme makes me drink as much of it as possible. she laughs at me " you dirty dirty whore you just love the cock don't you?" she beats me again till finally she stops and I am left there breathing heavily deep in subspace I pass out...
Thats where it ends..flots of pain with a side of forced bi.
The Dream
Submitted by: Rile Natham
I was on my Knees... Her eyes were beaming down to me... I remember how nervous I felt... How shakey I felt. My body couldn't hold still. My heart couldn't slow down. She asked me to close my eyes and kiss along her legs. I couldn't think... My thoughts were fuzzy and undefined. I did as she commanded. Must obey the Miss. Always obey the Miss.
My lips curled and slipped against the smooth silky skin of her long seductive legs. I was completely flushed now. My cheeks were bright red with excitement, and soon my lips moved upward... further they went up, craving the taste of my Miss'es unspeakable delight.... and just as my tongue reached out for this wonderous marvel, I felt a firm slap across my cheek.
I did wrong. I was too bold... Too eager... She scolded me before sending me to fetch a brush on the otherside of the room.... Slowly I crawled on all fours across the room, taking the handle of the wooden brush into my mouth, clasping my lips tightly around it, before turning my head back to Miss with big autum blue eyes, loving every moment I could serve Her.
I crawled back to Her, cold, and naked, looking forward to having my hair brushed by Miss. I moved in close, looking up to Her, with the brush proudly in my mouth, feeling Her hand stroak along my soft dark hair, closing my eyes tightly, while in utter bliss. Then I heard her grab for something, and move in down closer to me. She wrapped a small piece of cloth around my head, blinding my eyes, making those nervous feelings come back.
She guided me forward, easing me with her soft words, as I felt my body tingle all over. She leaned me over something soft and silky... The bed, my mind thought. I felt Her hand stroak along my bare back, unsure of what was about to happen, my body tightening, and shaking all over.
"Be still, boy" she commanded, and so I was... I fought it, and stilled my body for her. Her hands slowly moved down along my bare back, each fingernale tracing along the tender skin, as my teeth pressed again my bottom lip, and my head lowered. The hand came to the soft sensetive cheeks of my firm round bottom, moving up and down the skin, causing me to emmit a slight moan.
Then I felt a small pressure from behind, rubbing back and forth my puckered entry, playing at the soft delicate skin... It was the back of the brush I was sure, running back and forth, causing my fingers to dig into the soft blanket that my body laid against, as I felt myself stiffen for her in excitement. Pushing my body back.... Only to feel another desplinary slap from Miss. This time against my right hip, causing a harsh chill to run through my body like a lightning bolt, as she spoke, "I said be still, boy." My body stiffened up, completely still for the Lady, now entirely erect with the nervous excitement that filled me.
Then I felt the brush move, turning, feeling a new pressure against my hole, as she leaned down closer into my body, giving a reward stroke to my soft blushed cheek, coaxing me into the pleasure, as she slowly lodged the object inside of my tight rumphole, my inner muscles clamping tight to what I was sure was the brush handle. The object rocked back and forth inside of me, causing me to moan out softly in undeniable pleasure, droplets of precum coating my hardened member. Suddenly... I realized both her hands were against my skin.... And just as I realized this, She removed the cloth. I saw both Her hands against my skin, as Her body thrusted against mine, knowing it was not the brush inside me...
She moved a hand to my hair, pulling back my head, as my moans slowly shifted to squeals, feeling Miss dominate my body, claiming my gentle hole for her own. I felt her bare body lean over mine, as she bucked into me faster and harder. I tried to look back, but felt yet another strike for misbehaving... against my cheek.
I cried out, my member now releasing my nectar time and time again against the ground, trying my best to be still, but unable to contain my thrashing of pleasure, arching my back down, as She pulled my hair tighter for the disobedience, feeling the plastic toy slam all the way inside of me, leaving me breathless and exausted, only to continue the merciless slamming time and time again. My warm seed now completely coating my genitals, as I give myself to her, and she takes me completely. She gave one final thrust, jamming the large hard toy all the way inside, hard as She could, with all of her power, causing me to have one last great release, getting lost in complete ecstacy, my eyes shutting tight, my mind thinking this all too good to be true...
My eyes opened.... I was no longer with Her. I looked around... I was in my room, against my all too empty matress. I looked under the warm green cotton blanket, to see the creamy product of my splendid dream... Laying back down... quiet, thinking of that wonderful dream, as I felt a deep longing for my Miss, giving a long smooth sigh, as a slowly fell asleep, hoping for another visit from the wonderful Miss.
I was on my Knees... Her eyes were beaming down to me... I remember how nervous I felt... How shakey I felt. My body couldn't hold still. My heart couldn't slow down. She asked me to close my eyes and kiss along her legs. I couldn't think... My thoughts were fuzzy and undefined. I did as she commanded. Must obey the Miss. Always obey the Miss.
My lips curled and slipped against the smooth silky skin of her long seductive legs. I was completely flushed now. My cheeks were bright red with excitement, and soon my lips moved upward... further they went up, craving the taste of my Miss'es unspeakable delight.... and just as my tongue reached out for this wonderous marvel, I felt a firm slap across my cheek.
I did wrong. I was too bold... Too eager... She scolded me before sending me to fetch a brush on the otherside of the room.... Slowly I crawled on all fours across the room, taking the handle of the wooden brush into my mouth, clasping my lips tightly around it, before turning my head back to Miss with big autum blue eyes, loving every moment I could serve Her.
I crawled back to Her, cold, and naked, looking forward to having my hair brushed by Miss. I moved in close, looking up to Her, with the brush proudly in my mouth, feeling Her hand stroak along my soft dark hair, closing my eyes tightly, while in utter bliss. Then I heard her grab for something, and move in down closer to me. She wrapped a small piece of cloth around my head, blinding my eyes, making those nervous feelings come back.
She guided me forward, easing me with her soft words, as I felt my body tingle all over. She leaned me over something soft and silky... The bed, my mind thought. I felt Her hand stroak along my bare back, unsure of what was about to happen, my body tightening, and shaking all over.
"Be still, boy" she commanded, and so I was... I fought it, and stilled my body for her. Her hands slowly moved down along my bare back, each fingernale tracing along the tender skin, as my teeth pressed again my bottom lip, and my head lowered. The hand came to the soft sensetive cheeks of my firm round bottom, moving up and down the skin, causing me to emmit a slight moan.
Then I felt a small pressure from behind, rubbing back and forth my puckered entry, playing at the soft delicate skin... It was the back of the brush I was sure, running back and forth, causing my fingers to dig into the soft blanket that my body laid against, as I felt myself stiffen for her in excitement. Pushing my body back.... Only to feel another desplinary slap from Miss. This time against my right hip, causing a harsh chill to run through my body like a lightning bolt, as she spoke, "I said be still, boy." My body stiffened up, completely still for the Lady, now entirely erect with the nervous excitement that filled me.
Then I felt the brush move, turning, feeling a new pressure against my hole, as she leaned down closer into my body, giving a reward stroke to my soft blushed cheek, coaxing me into the pleasure, as she slowly lodged the object inside of my tight rumphole, my inner muscles clamping tight to what I was sure was the brush handle. The object rocked back and forth inside of me, causing me to moan out softly in undeniable pleasure, droplets of precum coating my hardened member. Suddenly... I realized both her hands were against my skin.... And just as I realized this, She removed the cloth. I saw both Her hands against my skin, as Her body thrusted against mine, knowing it was not the brush inside me...
She moved a hand to my hair, pulling back my head, as my moans slowly shifted to squeals, feeling Miss dominate my body, claiming my gentle hole for her own. I felt her bare body lean over mine, as she bucked into me faster and harder. I tried to look back, but felt yet another strike for misbehaving... against my cheek.
I cried out, my member now releasing my nectar time and time again against the ground, trying my best to be still, but unable to contain my thrashing of pleasure, arching my back down, as She pulled my hair tighter for the disobedience, feeling the plastic toy slam all the way inside of me, leaving me breathless and exausted, only to continue the merciless slamming time and time again. My warm seed now completely coating my genitals, as I give myself to her, and she takes me completely. She gave one final thrust, jamming the large hard toy all the way inside, hard as She could, with all of her power, causing me to have one last great release, getting lost in complete ecstacy, my eyes shutting tight, my mind thinking this all too good to be true...
My eyes opened.... I was no longer with Her. I looked around... I was in my room, against my all too empty matress. I looked under the warm green cotton blanket, to see the creamy product of my splendid dream... Laying back down... quiet, thinking of that wonderful dream, as I felt a deep longing for my Miss, giving a long smooth sigh, as a slowly fell asleep, hoping for another visit from the wonderful Miss.
Staking My Claim
Submitted by Ysatis Pichot
You melt my heart with your complete and total devotion to my pleasure. There is nothing else so wonderful as the gift you've given me. I am often left feeling flustered and overwhelmed by the utter selflessness of your dedication to me. I love that feeling and I adore you like no other.
TOUCH MY TOY.
This is mine. It is the first part of you that I claimed. Through it, I master your need, funneling it always back to me in some way. You are no longer able to even adjust it without thoughts of me flooding your every fiber.
TOUCH YOUR FOREHEAD.
This is mine. Through skillful understanding and manipulation of your need I have been able to claim this part of you as my own as well. You open it to me and do not deny me access to any part of it because your trust in me is absolute. Your mind is a beautiful thing and in essence it is an extension of my own. This is made quite clear by my ability to plant mental seeds there and watching them grow in ways that are pleasing to me often beyond the limits of my expectation and imagination.
TOUCH YOUR HEART.
This is mine. I did not claim it. No one has that sort of power, but rather it was given to me willingly. It is the sweetest of gifts. So long as I have it, I will always seek ways to keep it bound to me indefinitely. Thank you for trusting me with it.
YOU ARE MINE.
You melt my heart with your complete and total devotion to my pleasure. There is nothing else so wonderful as the gift you've given me. I am often left feeling flustered and overwhelmed by the utter selflessness of your dedication to me. I love that feeling and I adore you like no other.
TOUCH MY TOY.
This is mine. It is the first part of you that I claimed. Through it, I master your need, funneling it always back to me in some way. You are no longer able to even adjust it without thoughts of me flooding your every fiber.
TOUCH YOUR FOREHEAD.
This is mine. Through skillful understanding and manipulation of your need I have been able to claim this part of you as my own as well. You open it to me and do not deny me access to any part of it because your trust in me is absolute. Your mind is a beautiful thing and in essence it is an extension of my own. This is made quite clear by my ability to plant mental seeds there and watching them grow in ways that are pleasing to me often beyond the limits of my expectation and imagination.
TOUCH YOUR HEART.
This is mine. I did not claim it. No one has that sort of power, but rather it was given to me willingly. It is the sweetest of gifts. So long as I have it, I will always seek ways to keep it bound to me indefinitely. Thank you for trusting me with it.
YOU ARE MINE.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Secret Crush
Submitted anonymously by a submissive at Dominion.
Please allow me to confess a crush i've had since my first day at Dominion, and also a fantasy... i had just finished reading the rules, had gotten a submissive tag, and learned that voice was commonly used. i activated voice and knelt in the circle. i tried to observe the behavior of the boys, to see what was expected of us and how to interact with the Mistresses. my goal was to watch, learn, and blend in. i was new to voice. i could hear the conversation but could not determine who was speaking. i was trying to figure this out when i heard the sexiest voice. i thought, wow i must meet this mystery woman! i scanned the faces, and continued listening intently. And then i heard her laugh. Ooooo that laugh... so sexy, so sweet, so sadistic. My heart skipped a beat and i developed an immediate crush that still reveals itself whenever i hear her speak. i soon learned that the Woman with the intoxicating voice with the most sensual laugh is Lady Joie.
Some time had passed, i was learning about Dominion and enjoying myself immensely. i met a wonderful Mistress who took me under her protection. i was kneeling at my Mistress' feet, trying to be a good boy when i heard Lady Joie's voice echo sweetly across the plaza. She said she'd been drinking. Well, her sexy laugh turned to giggles, and that made it even sexier to me. She was saying how she loved to inflict pain on boys, and how she wanted a boy, right now, to satiate this need. The contrast between her sweet sexy voice and her sadistic desire struck a chord with me, and i imagined it was me she chose as her victim. i imagined her hoisting my hands above my head, chaining me to a post, and stripping me naked. i imagined her whipping me, all over my body. i could feel the pain searing through me while she continued whipping for her enjoyment. i imagined my screams intermixed with her voice, that sexy voice, as she continued to laugh and joke with her friends all through my suffering.
Please allow me to confess a crush i've had since my first day at Dominion, and also a fantasy... i had just finished reading the rules, had gotten a submissive tag, and learned that voice was commonly used. i activated voice and knelt in the circle. i tried to observe the behavior of the boys, to see what was expected of us and how to interact with the Mistresses. my goal was to watch, learn, and blend in. i was new to voice. i could hear the conversation but could not determine who was speaking. i was trying to figure this out when i heard the sexiest voice. i thought, wow i must meet this mystery woman! i scanned the faces, and continued listening intently. And then i heard her laugh. Ooooo that laugh... so sexy, so sweet, so sadistic. My heart skipped a beat and i developed an immediate crush that still reveals itself whenever i hear her speak. i soon learned that the Woman with the intoxicating voice with the most sensual laugh is Lady Joie.
Some time had passed, i was learning about Dominion and enjoying myself immensely. i met a wonderful Mistress who took me under her protection. i was kneeling at my Mistress' feet, trying to be a good boy when i heard Lady Joie's voice echo sweetly across the plaza. She said she'd been drinking. Well, her sexy laugh turned to giggles, and that made it even sexier to me. She was saying how she loved to inflict pain on boys, and how she wanted a boy, right now, to satiate this need. The contrast between her sweet sexy voice and her sadistic desire struck a chord with me, and i imagined it was me she chose as her victim. i imagined her hoisting my hands above my head, chaining me to a post, and stripping me naked. i imagined her whipping me, all over my body. i could feel the pain searing through me while she continued whipping for her enjoyment. i imagined my screams intermixed with her voice, that sexy voice, as she continued to laugh and joke with her friends all through my suffering.
Sometimes Things Go Wrong
Submitted anonymously by a submissive at Dominion.
Please forgive me if this rambles a bit. What I'm about to write is something I've never put down on paper before and don't even know fully how to describe it.
In my vanilla life, I don't lack confidence. I know I have skills that allow me to succeed in my job. I know I'm gifted with erratic flashes of brilliance, tempered by the occasional complete lack of common sense. But my ego is healthy when I'm dealing with normal things, such as my job. I don't lack confidence in my physical body, my mental acuity or my spiritual center.
But sometimes things go very wrong when I'm fully in the role of the submissive. I second guess myself. I second guess my worth. And it's not because I'm being pushed to this point with humiliation or something similar. That at least I could understand. And I can't even predict when it might happen.
I'm sure everyone has heard the old adage that when a submissive says they're "fine", they actually mean "F.I.N.E.", which supposedly actually means 'Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional'. I may have the acronym incorrect, but the gist is there. Maybe that means I'm not unusual in this, but if so, I don't see it very often in others. Or maybe they can mask it as effectively as I can.
Let me step back and try to describe what happens. I have always had a hangup when playing with other people where it's very important to me to know that they are enjoying themselves. It's because of this that I never ask my Mistress to let me play with a specific person, they have to express interest in me or my Mistress has to set it up. It's not that I'm being hard to get or anything like that, it's just that if I ask to play with someone else, how do I know they didn't just say "ok" to be kind, but in their hearts don't really want to play with me? I'd spend the whole time wondering if they were resenting it. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but there it is, and as a result I don't get to play with other people very often. It's not necessarily a healthy thing, but probably not completely a horrible thing either, right?
But there are times when this turns into a self-destructive cycle. I don't know why, I wish I did so I could stop it. There are times when I'll spiral down to feeling worthless, ignored and totally unwanted. I know my Mistress loves me without question, and you would think that knowledge would give me strength when feeling this way, but it somehow doesn't. Most of the time I get to feeling this way at a situation where lots of people around me are playing with lots of other people, and I feel like I'm a spectator to the event. I know what you're thinking, it's just jealousy in my heart, watching others have fun and having none myself. And maybe you're right, that's a part of it. But there's no rhyme or reason to it. Sometimes it can happen after just a few minutes while at other times I can watch an entire party from end to end and not feel this way. Sometimes it happens and I'm not even AT a party, go figure.
When it happens, I usually begin spiraling down out of control. I go through phases, beginning with sorrow, then anger, then despair, then self-loathing, then usually back to anger again. All of this is internal and while it's going on, I'll usually be sitting in a corner or looking nowhere but at the floor, my face a mask. I'm not sure my Mistress even knows when it's happening.
If asked if anything is wrong, my answer is usually that neutral and warning-laden response, "I'm fine." But I'm far from fine, I'm fucked up. The only things that I've found might break the cycle are a particularly hard beating where I'm driven into pain so far that I really don't care about anything anymore, and leaving the party and hoping I wake up with my ego mysteriously recovered. As I'm unable to control when the first might happen, usually I'll ask to leave the party, prematurely ending what might have been a fun night.
I don't mean to give the impression that this happens often. It doesn't. But when it does, I can't seem to stop it. In my mind, I know that it's stupid, irrational and self-feeding. When I'm like that, who the hell would WANT to deal with me, never mind interact with me as a submissive? Who wants a completely neurotic sub in the midst of an ego crisis? Maybe this neurosis is always under the surface somewhere. Maybe when I'm doing normal things like a job, my brain is in control and it knows better than to let this happen, but when I'm naked and kneeling on the floor, my guard is down and my emotions run unchecked, which can be a good thing, but maybe sometimes a bad thing also.
Do a lot of submissives feel this way? If they do, I never seem to see it. Are they emotionally messed up in other ways? I don't know the answer to that either. If they're not, then where's the truth in the 'F.I.N.E' adage? Does every submissive harbor secret neuroses of one type or another? Maybe this is the most natural thing in the world and every submissive feels it from time to time, in which case that totally blows. I don't have any answers.
Please forgive me if this rambles a bit. What I'm about to write is something I've never put down on paper before and don't even know fully how to describe it.
In my vanilla life, I don't lack confidence. I know I have skills that allow me to succeed in my job. I know I'm gifted with erratic flashes of brilliance, tempered by the occasional complete lack of common sense. But my ego is healthy when I'm dealing with normal things, such as my job. I don't lack confidence in my physical body, my mental acuity or my spiritual center.
But sometimes things go very wrong when I'm fully in the role of the submissive. I second guess myself. I second guess my worth. And it's not because I'm being pushed to this point with humiliation or something similar. That at least I could understand. And I can't even predict when it might happen.
I'm sure everyone has heard the old adage that when a submissive says they're "fine", they actually mean "F.I.N.E.", which supposedly actually means 'Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional'. I may have the acronym incorrect, but the gist is there. Maybe that means I'm not unusual in this, but if so, I don't see it very often in others. Or maybe they can mask it as effectively as I can.
Let me step back and try to describe what happens. I have always had a hangup when playing with other people where it's very important to me to know that they are enjoying themselves. It's because of this that I never ask my Mistress to let me play with a specific person, they have to express interest in me or my Mistress has to set it up. It's not that I'm being hard to get or anything like that, it's just that if I ask to play with someone else, how do I know they didn't just say "ok" to be kind, but in their hearts don't really want to play with me? I'd spend the whole time wondering if they were resenting it. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but there it is, and as a result I don't get to play with other people very often. It's not necessarily a healthy thing, but probably not completely a horrible thing either, right?
But there are times when this turns into a self-destructive cycle. I don't know why, I wish I did so I could stop it. There are times when I'll spiral down to feeling worthless, ignored and totally unwanted. I know my Mistress loves me without question, and you would think that knowledge would give me strength when feeling this way, but it somehow doesn't. Most of the time I get to feeling this way at a situation where lots of people around me are playing with lots of other people, and I feel like I'm a spectator to the event. I know what you're thinking, it's just jealousy in my heart, watching others have fun and having none myself. And maybe you're right, that's a part of it. But there's no rhyme or reason to it. Sometimes it can happen after just a few minutes while at other times I can watch an entire party from end to end and not feel this way. Sometimes it happens and I'm not even AT a party, go figure.
When it happens, I usually begin spiraling down out of control. I go through phases, beginning with sorrow, then anger, then despair, then self-loathing, then usually back to anger again. All of this is internal and while it's going on, I'll usually be sitting in a corner or looking nowhere but at the floor, my face a mask. I'm not sure my Mistress even knows when it's happening.
If asked if anything is wrong, my answer is usually that neutral and warning-laden response, "I'm fine." But I'm far from fine, I'm fucked up. The only things that I've found might break the cycle are a particularly hard beating where I'm driven into pain so far that I really don't care about anything anymore, and leaving the party and hoping I wake up with my ego mysteriously recovered. As I'm unable to control when the first might happen, usually I'll ask to leave the party, prematurely ending what might have been a fun night.
I don't mean to give the impression that this happens often. It doesn't. But when it does, I can't seem to stop it. In my mind, I know that it's stupid, irrational and self-feeding. When I'm like that, who the hell would WANT to deal with me, never mind interact with me as a submissive? Who wants a completely neurotic sub in the midst of an ego crisis? Maybe this neurosis is always under the surface somewhere. Maybe when I'm doing normal things like a job, my brain is in control and it knows better than to let this happen, but when I'm naked and kneeling on the floor, my guard is down and my emotions run unchecked, which can be a good thing, but maybe sometimes a bad thing also.
Do a lot of submissives feel this way? If they do, I never seem to see it. Are they emotionally messed up in other ways? I don't know the answer to that either. If they're not, then where's the truth in the 'F.I.N.E' adage? Does every submissive harbor secret neuroses of one type or another? Maybe this is the most natural thing in the world and every submissive feels it from time to time, in which case that totally blows. I don't have any answers.
A Poem about Dominion
Submitted by submissive JSebastian Bachem as part of his sentence for Trials and Punishments
in the dominion.
oct 27/09
a man i admire once wrote on a bathroom wall,
the world's most romantic poem:
'sarah i am 32, please find me.'
desperation sweetly dipped in dignity-
such a familiar song.
desperation and dignity are always present on the green lawns of dominion.
ebbing and flowing,in text and sound.
something re-assuring:
sunday i saw desperation evaporate into the blue dominion sky,when a Lady collared her slave,leaving only dignity.
perhaps the poet's words on the wall are no longer there.
or perhaps they now simply read:
'thank you.'
in the dominion.
oct 27/09
a man i admire once wrote on a bathroom wall,
the world's most romantic poem:
'sarah i am 32, please find me.'
desperation sweetly dipped in dignity-
such a familiar song.
desperation and dignity are always present on the green lawns of dominion.
ebbing and flowing,in text and sound.
something re-assuring:
sunday i saw desperation evaporate into the blue dominion sky,when a Lady collared her slave,leaving only dignity.
perhaps the poet's words on the wall are no longer there.
or perhaps they now simply read:
'thank you.'
Caged
Submitted anonymously by a member of Dominion.
No cage will ever be harder than the one I am in
For many many years I am locked up within
the suffocating boundaries of my very own .....skin
No cage will ever be harder than the one I am in
For many many years I am locked up within
the suffocating boundaries of my very own .....skin
Pliant Bamboo
My Darling [Anonymous],
Is your thirst now slaked, you wanton little whore? Your load a bit lighter as you bounded off into your day, the smugness of supposed victory still fresh upon your licked lips? Were you proud of yourself, offering me your false pleas, not because you earnestly had need of my consent, but because it made your cock a little harder just to utter the word?
Do you not see how silly you seem to me, depriving yourself of the true experience? Can you imagine how fulfilling it must be for those I actually respect, when they come to me baring their need in undeniable supplication, their voices trembling as they offer themselves up to MY pleasure, to do with as I wish, and satisfy their need to be pleasing to me in any way I see fit? Imagine it. I use them, because they create a need in me as well. They press that invisible red button in me that beckons the Domme out to play. THEY give me butterflies. YOU give me a fit of giggles.
You are a laughable trollop indeeed, preying on those who earnestly offer such things, just to slink back into your selfish little world and stroke off at the thought of it, spilling your worthless seed under the guise of being used by a Dom and for that I wouldn't spit on you if you were engulfed in flames. I'd watch you perish and giggle more.
Nonetheless, I do enjoy a good laugh. That, I cannot deny and having it come at your expense makes it all the better. At present, I'm sure you can't even wrap your feeble mind around how a submissive slut can possibly be devoted to one and still remain a slut. I assure you they are more fulfilled than you've ever been. Imagine the overwhelming ecstasy of the devoted whore who sits at his Mistress' feet recounting his evening after being left tethered to a post naked and marked "Free to Use." Imagine her listening to the sordid details, the smile slowly creeping onto her face, knowing he has endured all of ths just because he knows she delights in hearing how others find him pleasing as well. Imagine how the boy glows with pride at the end of his tale, basking in his Mistress' praise. She is pleased. . . genuinely, and he is delighted to have been the cause of her pleasure.
Now, can you now see how this would make your little solipsistic imitation of submission look less and less appealing to me? Still, you amuse me, for a time anyway, and when you cease to, I will simply wash my hands of your filthy, superficial submission and move on to something more substantial. Unless you can manage to find that invisible red button and beckon the Domme, touting with the incessant cry, "I need to be pleasing to you," to which she, the conqueror, would reply, "I know what it is you need," . . . unless you can do that, then your fate is sealed and much like a tissue, you are easily disposed of after being soiled.
So if after considerig this, my scathing reproach, you find yourself less willing to relinquish my company, I'd urge you to impress me. Give me butterflies with your utter devotion and willingness to be pleasing to me. . . oh and a reason to WANT. . . NEED to conquer you would be nice as well. It is said,
”竹のようにしなやかに生きる。”
Take no you ni shinayaka ni ikiru.
(Live like a pliant bamboo.)
Bend to my will, boy. You want to. Your actions betray you. I've gotten first greeting each time you've logged in, even if I was not online, you waited at my home while I tarried an hour or more, probably shoving your loose morals at others in IM's or perhaps because no one in your list was on at the time, but nonetheless you WAITED instead of seeking some new diversion, AND you're still reading this!
One last thing, if you EVER again refer to me as YOUR "good girl," I will put the heel of my stilleto in your ear and pierce your fucking skull. You can't crumble at the sound of this velvet voice if you suffer an incidental loss of hearing from that, now can you?
Regards,
~Mistress Ysatis Pichot~
Is your thirst now slaked, you wanton little whore? Your load a bit lighter as you bounded off into your day, the smugness of supposed victory still fresh upon your licked lips? Were you proud of yourself, offering me your false pleas, not because you earnestly had need of my consent, but because it made your cock a little harder just to utter the word?
Do you not see how silly you seem to me, depriving yourself of the true experience? Can you imagine how fulfilling it must be for those I actually respect, when they come to me baring their need in undeniable supplication, their voices trembling as they offer themselves up to MY pleasure, to do with as I wish, and satisfy their need to be pleasing to me in any way I see fit? Imagine it. I use them, because they create a need in me as well. They press that invisible red button in me that beckons the Domme out to play. THEY give me butterflies. YOU give me a fit of giggles.
You are a laughable trollop indeeed, preying on those who earnestly offer such things, just to slink back into your selfish little world and stroke off at the thought of it, spilling your worthless seed under the guise of being used by a Dom and for that I wouldn't spit on you if you were engulfed in flames. I'd watch you perish and giggle more.
Nonetheless, I do enjoy a good laugh. That, I cannot deny and having it come at your expense makes it all the better. At present, I'm sure you can't even wrap your feeble mind around how a submissive slut can possibly be devoted to one and still remain a slut. I assure you they are more fulfilled than you've ever been. Imagine the overwhelming ecstasy of the devoted whore who sits at his Mistress' feet recounting his evening after being left tethered to a post naked and marked "Free to Use." Imagine her listening to the sordid details, the smile slowly creeping onto her face, knowing he has endured all of ths just because he knows she delights in hearing how others find him pleasing as well. Imagine how the boy glows with pride at the end of his tale, basking in his Mistress' praise. She is pleased. . . genuinely, and he is delighted to have been the cause of her pleasure.
Now, can you now see how this would make your little solipsistic imitation of submission look less and less appealing to me? Still, you amuse me, for a time anyway, and when you cease to, I will simply wash my hands of your filthy, superficial submission and move on to something more substantial. Unless you can manage to find that invisible red button and beckon the Domme, touting with the incessant cry, "I need to be pleasing to you," to which she, the conqueror, would reply, "I know what it is you need," . . . unless you can do that, then your fate is sealed and much like a tissue, you are easily disposed of after being soiled.
So if after considerig this, my scathing reproach, you find yourself less willing to relinquish my company, I'd urge you to impress me. Give me butterflies with your utter devotion and willingness to be pleasing to me. . . oh and a reason to WANT. . . NEED to conquer you would be nice as well. It is said,
”竹のようにしなやかに生きる。”
Take no you ni shinayaka ni ikiru.
(Live like a pliant bamboo.)
Bend to my will, boy. You want to. Your actions betray you. I've gotten first greeting each time you've logged in, even if I was not online, you waited at my home while I tarried an hour or more, probably shoving your loose morals at others in IM's or perhaps because no one in your list was on at the time, but nonetheless you WAITED instead of seeking some new diversion, AND you're still reading this!
One last thing, if you EVER again refer to me as YOUR "good girl," I will put the heel of my stilleto in your ear and pierce your fucking skull. You can't crumble at the sound of this velvet voice if you suffer an incidental loss of hearing from that, now can you?
Regards,
~Mistress Ysatis Pichot~
Textured Feel
Submitted anonymously by a Domme of the Dominion.
I suppose My most predominant fantasy has been one that I expect most people to find a little dull. I have always been very sensitive to the way skin reacts to different matrerials, silk, leather, velvet, latex, wool, the list goes on. I love to pay attention to the oddest things, the way it brushes the skin, the way it drapes, whether it stretches, or binds. I have a fantasy of being in a situation where I have a sort of free reign to play with these fabrics. Usually my fantasy entails working for someone or some other situation where cost is not a concern, and my only thought can be to make the most erotic, sensual, incredible costumes my immagination can come up with. I'm not making them for myself in this fanasy, but for others. People coming to me of all shapes and sizes and desires, and my making them feel desirable and confident in the way they look. I fantasize of working on couples, seeing their eyes light up when they look at their loved one in the creations I have made. I often immagine this being in a sort of resort or nudist setting, as it has been my experience that in such environments there are nearly no limits in what a costume can be. This one revealing, that one only tantalizing. In my fantasy, I match the personalities of those who wear my creations, watching them go away seeing themselves in a whole different light than they did when they came to me.
I suppose My most predominant fantasy has been one that I expect most people to find a little dull. I have always been very sensitive to the way skin reacts to different matrerials, silk, leather, velvet, latex, wool, the list goes on. I love to pay attention to the oddest things, the way it brushes the skin, the way it drapes, whether it stretches, or binds. I have a fantasy of being in a situation where I have a sort of free reign to play with these fabrics. Usually my fantasy entails working for someone or some other situation where cost is not a concern, and my only thought can be to make the most erotic, sensual, incredible costumes my immagination can come up with. I'm not making them for myself in this fanasy, but for others. People coming to me of all shapes and sizes and desires, and my making them feel desirable and confident in the way they look. I fantasize of working on couples, seeing their eyes light up when they look at their loved one in the creations I have made. I often immagine this being in a sort of resort or nudist setting, as it has been my experience that in such environments there are nearly no limits in what a costume can be. This one revealing, that one only tantalizing. In my fantasy, I match the personalities of those who wear my creations, watching them go away seeing themselves in a whole different light than they did when they came to me.
Cupcake: my personal journey through sparkly hell and ribbon DOOM
Submitted by submissive, Xavier Deed as part of his sentence from Trials and Punishments
And I sat there with my face resting in my hand after I had set down the phone. The project clearly outlined. I was to go to Victoria's secret, find myself some sexy clothing and wear it under my clothing. The whole idea of going to buy the clothes was unsettling enough. But the idea of actually wearing it, well that just made my nutsac hang a little less low and my cock want to curl inward. I sighed and went out to purchase the clothing as I was commanded to do. The store itself wasn't that, the salesgirl assumed it was a gift and I just kept right on letting her believe her assumption. After all, confession was not part of the bargain. I found for myself a pair of silky textured thigh high stockings. I picked textured hose in my refusal to actually shave my legs, I figured the texture would hide my leg hair fairly well. A pair of pink panties and a matching bra completed the ensemble. There was a tricky moment when I was asked about size, but I bypassed that by telling the salesgirl my friend often borrows my shirt and pants. I felt fairly intelligent in that bit of covering up.
The following morning after my regime of morning jerk, jog, and shower; I moved to put on the scanty undergarments. Luckily it was a casual day at work so I'd be able to cover any lines from the undergarments with baggier clothing in thick materials. The stockings were sort of tricky. They don't slide on quite like socks do and it took a bit of work to pull them up in little bunched jerks along the hard muscled length of my legs. The texture didn't cover my hair quite like I'd hoped, and little hairs stuck out, much like porcupine quills along my legs. But the silken feeling against my hand as I ran my palm over the sleek line of my calf was oddly enticing. And I do have to admit I have better looking legs than I thought. I did, indeed, wonder how the form of my leg might shift standing in heels. The stockings were oddly tight, especially that lace top around my thighs, it cut in where I thought it would lay smooth. I discovered that lace is not the soft material it appears to be. It's sort of scratchy when it shifts on bare flesh. Again, I spent a moment enjoying the feeling of that silken hose beneath my palm. And I do have to admit my cock did twitch more than once as I rubbed my own leg. It was deliciously naughty.
Next came the bra. Luckily I'd been with enough women to know the clasp in the front and slide the bra around trick. But what I wasn't aware of is how easy it is to twist the bra and half one cup down and one cup up. And I never would have guessed how that rolling band just under my pecs could pinch and roll. I swore if I were a woman I'd just let my breasts swing free. But, oh my God, I loved the feeling of those silk cups over my nipples. To be perfectly honest, that sensation made me moan and my cock did start to lift and grow. I stalled and toyed with my nipples through the material of my bra, easing it back and forth around my body slightly so those tight cups would pass over my nipples. It felt oddly whorish and I wondered how I'd get through the day with that teasing sensation every time I moved my arms. By now I was half hard and my hand kept drifting to toy with the head of my penis. I knew I shouldn't. I knew I should strive to have that swelling fade so the panties wouldn't be quite as tight. But I am weak, and so I toyed away until I reached to slide on the pink panties.
I can not begin to describe how tight they were. It's like they were permanently bonded to the inside of the crack of my ass. My poor sac pressed upward against the under-curve of my torso. I feared dropping anything and swore to myself that today I would not bend over if my life depended upon it. The panties did not quite cover my dick. No matter how I stacked myself within that tight silky tiny garment, I poked out. My only real option was tucking and that just seemed ridiculously uncomfortable. I knew I shouldn't have toyed with myself. Yet, in all honestly, I was unable to stop myself from doing so. I never in my life felt so wickedly whorish. So wanton, so freaking lewd as I did dressed only in tight clingy silky ladies undergarments. I walked to the bathroom just to see myself in the mirror. Now I admit at first I laughed and I debated ripping it all off and just saying I wore it. But, some part of me wanted it. And a larger part of me wanted to do it because she had told me to. So I quickly dressed to hide the sexy clothing and attempted to go on through my day.
I never blushed so much. Each movement of my body in the course of my day brought the reminder I was semi-restrained in sexy pink silk and lace. And just that mental reminder surged a rush of my blood right on into my crotch. It, indeed, was a long day. I debated several times sneaking away into the bathroom for a little stress relief, but I had been told that I could only have the one in the morning. I was a walking hard on. She was right, being a pretty princess under my clothes did excite me.
And I sat there with my face resting in my hand after I had set down the phone. The project clearly outlined. I was to go to Victoria's secret, find myself some sexy clothing and wear it under my clothing. The whole idea of going to buy the clothes was unsettling enough. But the idea of actually wearing it, well that just made my nutsac hang a little less low and my cock want to curl inward. I sighed and went out to purchase the clothing as I was commanded to do. The store itself wasn't that, the salesgirl assumed it was a gift and I just kept right on letting her believe her assumption. After all, confession was not part of the bargain. I found for myself a pair of silky textured thigh high stockings. I picked textured hose in my refusal to actually shave my legs, I figured the texture would hide my leg hair fairly well. A pair of pink panties and a matching bra completed the ensemble. There was a tricky moment when I was asked about size, but I bypassed that by telling the salesgirl my friend often borrows my shirt and pants. I felt fairly intelligent in that bit of covering up.
The following morning after my regime of morning jerk, jog, and shower; I moved to put on the scanty undergarments. Luckily it was a casual day at work so I'd be able to cover any lines from the undergarments with baggier clothing in thick materials. The stockings were sort of tricky. They don't slide on quite like socks do and it took a bit of work to pull them up in little bunched jerks along the hard muscled length of my legs. The texture didn't cover my hair quite like I'd hoped, and little hairs stuck out, much like porcupine quills along my legs. But the silken feeling against my hand as I ran my palm over the sleek line of my calf was oddly enticing. And I do have to admit I have better looking legs than I thought. I did, indeed, wonder how the form of my leg might shift standing in heels. The stockings were oddly tight, especially that lace top around my thighs, it cut in where I thought it would lay smooth. I discovered that lace is not the soft material it appears to be. It's sort of scratchy when it shifts on bare flesh. Again, I spent a moment enjoying the feeling of that silken hose beneath my palm. And I do have to admit my cock did twitch more than once as I rubbed my own leg. It was deliciously naughty.
Next came the bra. Luckily I'd been with enough women to know the clasp in the front and slide the bra around trick. But what I wasn't aware of is how easy it is to twist the bra and half one cup down and one cup up. And I never would have guessed how that rolling band just under my pecs could pinch and roll. I swore if I were a woman I'd just let my breasts swing free. But, oh my God, I loved the feeling of those silk cups over my nipples. To be perfectly honest, that sensation made me moan and my cock did start to lift and grow. I stalled and toyed with my nipples through the material of my bra, easing it back and forth around my body slightly so those tight cups would pass over my nipples. It felt oddly whorish and I wondered how I'd get through the day with that teasing sensation every time I moved my arms. By now I was half hard and my hand kept drifting to toy with the head of my penis. I knew I shouldn't. I knew I should strive to have that swelling fade so the panties wouldn't be quite as tight. But I am weak, and so I toyed away until I reached to slide on the pink panties.
I can not begin to describe how tight they were. It's like they were permanently bonded to the inside of the crack of my ass. My poor sac pressed upward against the under-curve of my torso. I feared dropping anything and swore to myself that today I would not bend over if my life depended upon it. The panties did not quite cover my dick. No matter how I stacked myself within that tight silky tiny garment, I poked out. My only real option was tucking and that just seemed ridiculously uncomfortable. I knew I shouldn't have toyed with myself. Yet, in all honestly, I was unable to stop myself from doing so. I never in my life felt so wickedly whorish. So wanton, so freaking lewd as I did dressed only in tight clingy silky ladies undergarments. I walked to the bathroom just to see myself in the mirror. Now I admit at first I laughed and I debated ripping it all off and just saying I wore it. But, some part of me wanted it. And a larger part of me wanted to do it because she had told me to. So I quickly dressed to hide the sexy clothing and attempted to go on through my day.
I never blushed so much. Each movement of my body in the course of my day brought the reminder I was semi-restrained in sexy pink silk and lace. And just that mental reminder surged a rush of my blood right on into my crotch. It, indeed, was a long day. I debated several times sneaking away into the bathroom for a little stress relief, but I had been told that I could only have the one in the morning. I was a walking hard on. She was right, being a pretty princess under my clothes did excite me.
Shameful Secrets
Submitted by submissive, Kerry Otoole
When I was a teenager I went to visit at my Aunt's two or three times a year. My cousin was a year or so younger than me. She was real bitchy! She'd never miss a chance to mock me or make fun of me but, for some reason, I never tried to fight back. I knew that, if we had a fight, my Aunt would take her side.
One day I found myself home alone and I went to explore my cousin's room. Her panties were in the upper right hand drawer and I found them right away. They were the sheerest, and silkiest, and whitest panties that I had ever seen.
I zipped down, took out my dick, and started to do a masturbation. I stood there, in front of her mirror, rubbing my stiff little thing against the silky nylon. It's exciting to do it in a girl's room! Her bed, her clothes, her pictures! There was a picture of her class: boys and girls both: I played with my weenie right in front of the picture and I imagined they were all looking at me.
I had to hurry: what if my Aunt came home and caught me? So I grabbed some Kleenex and, kissing the pure sweet panties, I brought myself off.
The next year I discovered the laundry hamper in the bathroom. Wow! The ones in the laundry were somehow more interesting than the ones in her bureau. Sometimes there would be two or three pairs, all different styles and materials. I noticed once in a while the panties would be damp and have a very very special smell; this seemed to happen when she'd been on a sleepover with one of her girlfriends. I was safe in the bathroom! I could lock myself in, stand in front of the mirror, and take my time as I wanked myself off
I never thought of trying on the panties. But I couldn't help but imagine what would happen if I got caught. Scarey! Would my Aunt make me put them on, and maybe walk around in them in front of my cousin and her friends?
I was jealous of the way my cousin played with her girlfriends. Always whispering and laughing and touching each other. She loved to make fun of me in front of her friends. She'd tease me and say that I was always playing with me "little thingy". It was very embarrassing but there was nothing I could do about it.
I was fascinated because girls like to go to the bathroom together. If you get close to the door you can hear them giggling and sometimes you hear the tinkle sound. I wished I could be in there with them or, at least, to peek in and watch what they were doing.
I never did get caught: was I lucky? But I sure learned something! When I was older, and I was bewitched be an assertive Lady, I was ready. It is a privilege to serve a Lady and I know that I must always do my best to please her.
When I was a teenager I went to visit at my Aunt's two or three times a year. My cousin was a year or so younger than me. She was real bitchy! She'd never miss a chance to mock me or make fun of me but, for some reason, I never tried to fight back. I knew that, if we had a fight, my Aunt would take her side.
One day I found myself home alone and I went to explore my cousin's room. Her panties were in the upper right hand drawer and I found them right away. They were the sheerest, and silkiest, and whitest panties that I had ever seen.
I zipped down, took out my dick, and started to do a masturbation. I stood there, in front of her mirror, rubbing my stiff little thing against the silky nylon. It's exciting to do it in a girl's room! Her bed, her clothes, her pictures! There was a picture of her class: boys and girls both: I played with my weenie right in front of the picture and I imagined they were all looking at me.
I had to hurry: what if my Aunt came home and caught me? So I grabbed some Kleenex and, kissing the pure sweet panties, I brought myself off.
The next year I discovered the laundry hamper in the bathroom. Wow! The ones in the laundry were somehow more interesting than the ones in her bureau. Sometimes there would be two or three pairs, all different styles and materials. I noticed once in a while the panties would be damp and have a very very special smell; this seemed to happen when she'd been on a sleepover with one of her girlfriends. I was safe in the bathroom! I could lock myself in, stand in front of the mirror, and take my time as I wanked myself off
I never thought of trying on the panties. But I couldn't help but imagine what would happen if I got caught. Scarey! Would my Aunt make me put them on, and maybe walk around in them in front of my cousin and her friends?
I was jealous of the way my cousin played with her girlfriends. Always whispering and laughing and touching each other. She loved to make fun of me in front of her friends. She'd tease me and say that I was always playing with me "little thingy". It was very embarrassing but there was nothing I could do about it.
I was fascinated because girls like to go to the bathroom together. If you get close to the door you can hear them giggling and sometimes you hear the tinkle sound. I wished I could be in there with them or, at least, to peek in and watch what they were doing.
I never did get caught: was I lucky? But I sure learned something! When I was older, and I was bewitched be an assertive Lady, I was ready. It is a privilege to serve a Lady and I know that I must always do my best to please her.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)