Sunday, March 28, 2010

The Prey

Submitted by Destiny Teardrop

Darkness falls. The allotted time approaches.

She strides steadily, confidently, purposefully. The sound of her sharp stiletto heels resounding off the walls of the long, dark alleyway. The rain falls heavily: large , cold, wet droplets, bouncing on the paving stones. She keeps her head up, forward, occasionally lifting her hand to push her long dark hair from her eyes as the rain continues to pour. She wears black, naturally, the low light from the street lamps reflecting in the wet leather of her coat.

At the end of the alleyway, he cowers in the corner. Naked but for a leather collar, kneeling, waiting as instructed . His head is lowered, he shivers in the rain. His body is covered with a fine sheen of moisture, both sweat and rain water. He hears her approaching. He trembles with fear and excitement. He wants this, he needs this…he needs Her, but he fears her also. Her power enthralls him, terrifies him, entraps him.

Her footsteps grow louder as she approaches him. She stops. He sees her feet, the pointed toe of her boots an inch from his flesh. Time seems to stand still as he feels her presence. The pitter patter of the rainfall fades into the distance, all he can hear is his own ragged breathing. He dare not speak.

She bends down and places a leather gloved hand on his neck, grasping under his chin, she lifts his head up, her voice is firm, assured as the corners of her mouth curl up into a slight smile, ‘Look upon your Destiny’ she tells him, as she attaches a leash to the collar on his neck and tugs him, crawling, after her.


Submitted by David Lorefield

i looked at the clock for what must have been the hundredth time today. The hands reeled their inexorable dance towards the moment of alignment; the pivotal point of synchronicity. The deadline was unalterable. Eight o’clock. There was no room for manoeuvre, no possibility for persuasion or negotiation. My Mistress would arrive home at six o’clock sharp, and the house and i would be ready to receive Her.

It was now seven twenty. The house had been cleaned from top to bottom. i’d vacuumed, scrubbed, dusted and polished until every surface was spotless. i’d even gone back around and checked each room myself to be certain of it’s perfection. i knew She would inspect them all; checking for any tell-tale signs of my failures, knowing that each failure would be met with punishment.

i had prepared a light meal for Her. This was not one of my designated tasks for the day but i knew well enough that it would please my Mistress to eat following Her inspection. As usual, i made a little extra in case She grants me the honour of eating with Her. The meal was now waiting in the warmer and the pots and pans had been cleared away. Time to prepare myself for the arrival of my Mistress.

i hurried to the bathroom, knowing that time was of the essence and turned on the shower. Stepping into the powerful stream i took the soap and brush and cleaned myself with the same diligence i’d applied to the house earlier. I then shaved – my second of the day – to remove any hint of roughness, and brushed and flossed my teeth to gleaming cleanliness.

Time check – seven forty-five. i returned to my room and checked my genitals for stray hairs. I keep them trimmed and tidy for the most part but it’s a never-ending struggle. The few i found were removed quickly and somewhat painfully with the tweezers. i applied the deodorant and cologne that my Mistress chose for me and head into the lounge with two minutes to spare on the clock.

i kneel, naked, in the middle of the floor, hands behind my back and knees parted to display my cock. i am ready for Her now. A car pulls up outside and my breathing becomes perceptibly faster, my heart beginning to race with excitement, anticipation and, of course, anxiety. The key turns in the lock and i feel the brief rush of the cold evening air invading the room. The clock on the mantle stirs into life and begins to chime the hour.

The door of the lounge opens and there She is – the Goddess, my Goddess. I bow forwards and bring my head to the floor, stretching my arms out in front of me towards her perfectly shod feet.

“Kneel up, my boy”, She instructs me.

As i lift my head i detect the delicate blend of Her perfume mixed with the strong heady aroma of the latex dress She is wearing. First, i see Her boots and the stocking-clad legs above them. As my eyes lift, daring to gaze on this image of Womanhood in all its glory, i see the dress – so short as to deny any possibility of modesty, tempting both sight and mind with the flesh barely hidden beneath. The smooth, shiny fabric stretched tightly across the surreal and symmetrical landscape of Her body. Every curve, every valley and every outcrop begging to be explored.

My eyes lift further. Her hair is a banner of burnished gold, gleaming in the lamplight. Her mouth is flash of pink like an open wound with the promise of forbidden knowledge. Her eyes are the siren’s song, calling out to me, drawing me closer, closer, until there is nothing else and i am consumed in their fire. After an eternity swimming in those eyes, while only seconds pass, She speaks again.

“I have had a hell of a day, my boy. I will inspect the house in the morning. And i won’t require anything to eat – I just need to relax.”

My face settles into an easy smile as i nod in acceptance of Her wishes. It doesn’t matter – i had to be ready and this wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last that my Mistress chooses to take another path than the one for which i prepared. It is, after all, Her prerogative to choose and my duty to serve.

She lowers Herself into Her special chair, Her Throne, and breathes a deep sigh expelling the tensions of the day.

“Come kneel at my feet and tell your Mistress how good She looks in this outfit. Then i may let you edge for me later. ”

I smile. This will be my easiest task of the day.

Letter to My boy

Submitted anonymously by a Domme at the Dominion


I want you to know what this time with you has done, thus far. First, I want to protect you, there are so many unknowns. I want to guide you, expand you, push you to the very core of your limits and then just a bit past that. I want your body and soul to ache for more. To ignite that fire inside you and fan it to a level so hot, it 'almost' consumes you. I will take pleasure in this to a point you may at times feel is too much, or maybe even a slightly cruel. I'll cultivate your fear, using it to teach you the betrayal of your body versus your mind as you salivate, hungering for me inescapably. You'll beg for mercy, plead for sexual release, panting...lingering. A long journey ahead we have, my slut. Slowly, you will learn it's that trust we build and each place I take you, will only leave you craving more. You will be that perfect gentleman when I wish it and the dirtiest raw whore when... I... wish it. The lick of my whip will become like a drug to you, unable to be sated. You'll make mistakes, I'll correct you... punishing if need be... this will be the only part of your growth I will not take any joy in. Simply having you at my feet sends and almost intoxicating fire through me, a myriad of directions to take you.... carefully, slowly I plot them out, loving how you will just 'go' in an instant...oh the pleasure and pain I will inflict. Each day a new opportunity to make you more and more, Mine.

Your Mistress

Secret Desires

Submitted anonymously by a submissive at the Dominion

Another hot day in salo Italy, I'm sitting on the side of the lake with my girlfriend looking out at the beautiful scenery, the light glinting off of the ripples of the water disturbed by the multitude of boats and jet ski speeding back and forth, looking around feeling lucky to be in such a place the heat bearing down on me making this feel like paradise, perfect.

The local town is packed full of tourists milling back and forth barely clothed with smiles and sound of laughter and enjoyment, I continue to look around feeling very happy and contented and then I catch her out the corner of my eye, a Lady dressed in an elegant wraparound black dress in arm with a man also dressed totally in black, so striking, set apart from the crowed, I'm amazed in their appearances I turn to get a better look and find myself staring at them, they seem so regal so perfect the way they walk, the way they look back at the milling crowed, it's as if they are apart from everyone else time almost stopping to let them past, black in a sea of white.

The Lady turns her head so imperceptibly towards me, noticing me staring, I flush red with sudden embarrassment for being caught staring at them both and turn my gaze away quickly noticing a slight smile from her as they walk past me, unable to help myself I take another look as they continue to walk away and slowly they disappear into the crowed, I strangely feel like I have lost something I feel so small, so lost, so alone.

I sit there for a moment trying to remember every detail until I feel the sun becoming too much and needing a drink to cool myself down, asking my girlfriend what drink she would like I head into the bar, also crowded with semi naked tourists, I spot the sign for the bathroom and head out back, entering a small alley I walk on down it, reaching the end I realize I've must of made a wrong turn I start to make my way back to the bar, and then I see her again, the Lady in Black with her man, our eyes meet and I suddenly feel something within the pit of my stomach, a sense of belonging and I drop my gaze immediately.

'Come Here....boy' I hear her say, what? Pardon? I feel a little confused has she just ordered me?, 'Come Here boy!' she says once more and this time I obey feeling compelled, I do as she asks and walk towards her keeping my gaze low stopping as I get closer, 'Good on your knees', I freeze for a moment, 'On Your Knees!' she says again harsher tones but this time I drop down in front of her again feeling compelled, I look up at her and again I'm shocked by her regal dominance and it's then I feel this connection between us, this seems right so perfect, I feel aroused kneeling before her.

'Now what do we have here?' she says staring down at me with a smile, 'I think we have a little horny nosy slut' the Lady noticing the bulge slowly forming under my shorts, 'and what do we do with nosy sluts?', I look up at her blushing feeling even more aroused, still looking down at me she takes another step closer, a big smile upon her face as she reaches down to her dress opening up a fold., 'kiss me!' she says soft voice, I look down to where she has opened up her dress for me, seeing her stocking tops and then something else, I blinked and looked again, 'Kiss Me!' she says again with more of a command in her voice.

I lean forward with almost total disbelief what I am about to do, my head closer inhaling the musk of this stunning Lady as I kiss her now erect cock, my mind wheeling as I feel it twitch as my lips press down upon her, 'good boy!, now worship me', I'm stunned for a moment, I feel like I'm dreaming or asleep, this can't possibly happening, I'm being commanded to kiss and suck a Ladies cock, but I'm straight I would never dream of doing anything like this but here I am, licking and sucking upon a strangers cock, the sensation the feeling of its warmth inside my mouth as I start to plunge her cock deeper, moving my mouth back and forth upon her penis, feeling her own subtle movements as she starts to press her hips forward driving her cock deeper into my mouth until her shaft is slick wet with my saliva, I suddenly choke and squirm as her shaft presses the back of my throat her hands firmly holding onto my head holding me there, looking down at me smiling with joy and amusement.

The Lady releases my head and slowly pulls her cock out of my mouth, I start to cough and splutter as I gasp for air as saliva dribbles down my chin and my body starts to tremble, not due to fear but a new found feeling of excitement 'that’s enough boy now stand and turn around'.

I do as I am commanded and stand turning around, not sure what is to happen to me now which is short lived as I feel her body press up against mine, my shorts being pulled down and her leg pushing my own legs apart then shortly followed by the feel of her hard cock being pressed in-between my bum cheeks, my own cock rock hard as I realize how much i'm enjoying the feeling of being used like this, I wince in pain as I feel the Ladies cock press harder again my anus, the pressure and pain increasing and with a hard thrust of her hips I feel her shaft slip into my body as she slowly pushes deeper into my body, 'what a wonderfully tight virgin arse you have' all I can do is reply back in a gasped whimper as she slowly withdraws for a moment before she thrusts back into my arse her gentleness slipping away as she slams back and forth, whimpering of pain spilling out of my mouth as my virgin anus tries to adjust to this sudden invasion, her cock feeling like its tearing me apart pushing hard and harder, deeper and deeper, her own grunts escaping her lips as she fucks me up against the wall with her man looking on with a smile watching her using me.

Her thrusts now getting faster as I feel my body slowly relaxing the pain now turning into joy the feeling of being used like this making me feel like a slut and whore as I start to push back upon each of her thrust causing her to push even hard, feeling her cock and balls slam against me, I let out a scream of passion as I feel her shaft twitch then explode feeling her cock pour cum inside me as the Lady groans with pleasure pressing hard into me, pumping her hot load deep inside my body, I hear myself thanking her for taking me 'mmhmm good boy' she whispers, 'now don’t move and clench your arse for me, my little cum whore', I do as commanded and feel her slowly withdraw and as her cock head skips out of me I feel another object being pushed in placed stopping her cum from spilling out of me, a tight plug pushed into place, the emotions washing around my head the total feeling of what I have suddenly become, as my legs buckle and I slip to the floor.

'Goodbye my little whore but I will be seeing you again as you belong to me now, you may remove the plug and think of me tonight when you get home', with that the Lady and her boy leaves me there feeling totally used and exhausted but owned, I slowly get to my feet pulling my shorts up and return to my girlfriend, seeing her sitting there I smile as I feel a slight dribble of cum running down between my legs and my mind wonders to my new secret Mistress knowing what’s inside me as I smile and sip my drink.

First Meeting

Submitted by Khalania Pearl

We'd never met in real life before. We met in Second Life and had carried it further and further with each passing second, minute, hour, day, week, and now it had been months. His voice caught me at first. It was so deep, strong, and had such a rich timbre that it turned my head. It took me months of talking and learning about each other before we even played. It took even more time for me to realize that this man with such a deep voice was so very submissive inside. It only took a little play to come to this realization. He always told me in our play, "you make a bad bad sub", and I do -- I admit it. I'm always saying, "No" and "Not now" or "I don't want to do that." I was the one always teasing, taunting, and making HIM hold it. So, we finally bought some lovely dungeon equipment and started foraying further into Femdom.

I realllly thought he was just letting me indulge in my fantasy when I bought that strap-on, but he really liked it. Surprising enough, I liked it too! So... after all these months /I/ collared him. He became mine in heart, body, and soul. He was mine to command, mine to love, mine to care for, and mine to punish as needed.

So much time went by and we finally decided to meet in real life. He didn't know that before the trip I had a nice collar made, a leash, and picked up a wide variety of toys including a most gorgeous strap on. He didn't realize he'd be on HIS knees servicing me this trip. But, he would find out soon enough. Our coming together was met with passionate kisses, touches, and tastes of each other. I allowed him this little bit of time to do as he liked since we had never touched in real life before. I knew what was coming later and he did not. We finally got out our initial passion and headed to the hotel. Once we were there I quickly opened my "toybox" and brought out a collar. Lovingly, I kissed his neck as I placed the cold silver bangle-shaped collar around his thick neck. As the lock on the collar "clicked", I whispered to him, "You are now mine forever; don't forget that." He shuddered visibly and gooseflesh appeared on his body. "Yes M'Lady." he answered, a bright smile and a twinkle in his eye. "Can this slave do anything for you at the moment?" he continued. "Call room service." I demanded in a no nonsense tone. "Order the same for both of us. We will have grilled chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and peas." His nose wrinkled at the mention of peas. "But M'Lady.." he started and I countered with, "You'll eat your vegetables." I knew he HATED veggies and he was going by my rules now. "Also, order for dessert a nice ice-cream sundae with two spoons. After you've done this you may run me a hot bath and bathe me. Also, you'll be shaving me tonight." He smiled at that and began to order our meal.

I meticulously began to unpack making sure to keep my "toybox" hidden from him. Everything was put away in drawers except one outfit I hid in a towel. I went into the large bathroom and sunk into the warm bath that had been drawn for me. "Mmmm, very good boy." I murmured and handed him a poof with lavender and vanilla body wash. "Clean me." I ordered and let him wash my body. "Make sure not to touch any place that is sexual." I added with a wicked gleam in my eyes. He pouted slightly and stopped as soon as my eyes turned upon him. "Next, you'll lather my legs and shave them -- then you'll WATCH me do my sex. If you cut me you WILL PAY." I managed as I made a little sigh of contentment as he washed me. Next, he rubbed the vanilla scented shaving cream between his hands to warm it before applying it all the way up to my the tops of my thighs. Slowly, he began to shave me and did a very good job. At first, his hand was shaky. "Don't cut me." I warned, with a stern tone as I looked into his green eyes that mirrored my own. After he was done I took the shaving cream and covered my sex. I could see his eyes widen and his breathing get a bit heavier. "Don't let that cock get too hard yet. It's going to be a long time before you let go of that load." I told him with a perfectly angelic smile as I began to shave my lips making sure there was not a trace of hair as I finished. I rinsed off and stood up, toweling myself off. The doorbell rang, "Go get our dinner and set it out for me." I told him, as I began to dry off. "Yes, M'Lady." he answered and left the room. I unrolled the towel and dried myself and then slowly began to put on my outfit. I had brought a pair of black stockings, a garterbelt, a pair of black lace boyshorts, and a black leather corset that pushed my already large breasts higher and made them appear huge. "Hmmm, perfect, the boots will come later." I murmured to myself as I left the room. Dinner was on the table as ordered and I sat down.

"Sit and eat." I told him and we began to enjoy our dinner. I could see his face wrinkle with every pea he ate. I saw him hide them in mashed potatoes to get them down -- but he was good. Soon, we were moving to dessert. We devoured it as I stared at him. I slowly licked the spoon with the tip of my tongue and let a little bit of the whipped cream sit on the edge of my lip. "Mmmm, perfect dinner." I said with a smile. "Now, are you ready to play soon?" I asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded vehemently and I grinned. "Good, go put on that silk blindfold and sit on the edge of the bed. Make sure you have nothing on except your collar", I reminded him as I went into the bathroom and put on a pair of 4 inch spiked leather boots. They reached just below the knee and they were gorgeous. I finally came out and watched his expression. His eyes widened in shock, appreciation, and desire. "Gorgeous, M'Lady." he managed and I saw his cock begin to rise already.

"Thank you, not so bad yourself." I teased as I walked closer with a sway in my hips. I watched him watch me and grinned. "See something you like?" I asked with a wink as I moved even closer. He reached out to touch me and I swatted his hand away, "Did I give you permission for that?" I asked and he shook his head answering, "NO, M'Lady." Slowly, I begin running my fingernails up and down his chest and pushing him to lay down. I crawled up his body and continued my play allowing just the tips of my nails to trace against his skin. Lower I went and traced the nails against his inner thighs and then tapped his cock with my index finger. "Mmmm...." I replied as it saluted me in return for my "thump". "Very nice response, boy." I growled and crawled further up towards his face. I knew he loved oral sex and eating me out was something he begged for. So, I casually took out a pair of scissors and cut away my lace panties, baring myself for him. Then, I crawled higher so my sex was inches from his lips. I was sure he could smell me but he couldn't quite reach to taste me. "Have you been good?" I asked, as I watched his eyed lock on me. "Yes, yes M'Lady." he answered. "Beg me." Simple words, but he knew what I wanted. "Beg me.." I said again, a little more forceful. "May I eat you Mistress, M'Lady? May I lick you until you cum and squirt your juices into my unworthy mouth? May I please...." he begged and I grinned. "Maybe," I said, reaching back and thumping his cock again.

Finally, I crawled up towards his face and slowly set myself upon it. "Lick me.. eat me.. make me cum ... you better be as good as you claim at this because your tongue is going to be busy tonight." He began to slowly work his tongue inside me and I bit my lip trying to keep from making a sound. "Not bad." I managed, sounding stern. "But, I don't like this position." I moved my body with a little groan of protest from him. I wanted to be where he could eat me out while I tortured him. "Now, lick me .."
I said I positioned myself just the way I wanted. I began to slowly stroke his cock as he licked, ate, and teased me. His tongue slithered into me and then he stopped letting his lips fasten around my clit as he nibbled, licked, and clamped onto it as he hummed. I couldn't hold back and began cumming with a violet force. My juices coated his face and I lost my sense of what I was doing. "Keep going.." I managed as I teased more, fingernails tracing his balls, sliding up and down his cock and tongue out just to lick the head. Once I had cum again all over him I moved and smiled. "Very good, boy." I managed to say with a straight face. "Now, time for you to get fucked for a reward." His face showed hesitance, but his cock sprang up more and I saw hints of precum at the tip. "Oh, I know you want it. If you beg nicely I'll even lube it up for you." I said and grinned. "Please lube it before you fuck me, Mistress.. lady..." He began, and I turned around to let him suck on the plastic cock now at my waist. The strapon was perfect. Not too big but big enough to make itself known. "Suck it and then I'll let you lube it a bit more." I said.

He sucked as if his life depended and I gave him some lube. He was overzealous with the lube. I put a little on my finger and told him, "Face down on the bed ass in the air like a good boy." He listened and assumed the position. I slowly circled a lubed finger around his asshole while my other hand stroked his cock. His breathing intensified and I grinned. I added another finger and he wriggled a bit though I kept fucking the fingers out and in slowly, "Are you ready for something bigger?" I asked, and didn 't wait for the answer. I lined my strapon to his asshole and thrust home. He screamed though I'm not sure from delight or pain. I slowly withdrew and begin to fuck his ass in a regular rhythm. The deeper I fucked him the harder the nub on my clit would rub so I got just as much pleasure. Reaching around, I began stroking his cock as I fucked him hard and deep and began to go faster as I pleasured me. "Are you enjoying being fucked by your Mistress?" I asked and he moaned, "Yes, M'Lady please M'lady... I wanna cum for you." I grinned and sadistically laughed. "NO!" I said, "HOLD IT or you WILL be sorry." I began fucking him harder and harder as the little nub danced on my clit. When I realized I could hold back very little longer I fucked deeper, harder, and stroked his cock faster. "When I command you will cum." was all I said as I fucked him as hard as I could. As I began to cum I shouted, "NOW NOW CUM FOR ME SLAVE!" He didn't disappoint and began cumming loads. I kept fucking him until his cock deflated. Slowly, I withdrew the strapon, removed it, and lay beside him stroking his limp cock trying to get it to come back to life. "I want to fuck you now." I told him as I continued to tease and let my finger run over his asshole once more. His cock jumped to life and I slide on top of him. "Sleep now, pet." I said, as I fell asleep with his cock buried deep inside my wetness.


Submitted by Jacque Cooperstone

my confession today centers around lust and self centeredness. i was fortunate to be given the opportunity of being placed on the auction block this afternoon. While standing with my arms bound up, and being completely naked in front of all the Dommes in attendance, several thoughts raced through my mind. The anticipation of possibly being selected and allowed to Serve for a period of time wish quite overwhelming.

i tried to keep my gaze down, however i was constantly tempted to look over at the wide array of Dommes. Finally i succumb to the temptations and began to look over the field. Initially my thoughts were pure, however soon were displaced with thoughts of selfishness and lust.

As the other subs were being questioned, i wondered to myself which Domme would be able to provide the most pleasure to me, which One's Golden Essence would taste the best, which Mistress had the largest strapon and on and on. i would cam in close on individual Mistresses and wondered how She would perform. My lust level was quite high, all of which was centered soley about me.

i realized my thoughts were wrong almost immediately, and began to go deep within myself to cleanse myself of these wrongs thoughts. i was able to do that successfully, and my thoughts returned to the true meaning of what i am. It is not for me, but it is all for Her. My pleasure is secondary as is Her skills or taste. i know better than to allow these types of thoughts to enter my mind, but i let my guard down and allowed them in.

For this i beg forgiveness and absolution. i will do better in the future.

Happy Birthday...

Submitted anonymously by a Domme of the Dominion

I'm a established Dominion Domme. Well known and well received.
I have vanilla friends that I have kept in contact with since I entered SL. One of my friends, is a straight, pithy, dry witted, but fun man. Our relationship has always been flirty,
humorous, and suggestive. On occasion, in the past, we have secretly coupled, had our own little soiree's for two, and enjoyed the other in voice. We have that unspoken "yes" between the other. Each of us maintain SL relationships, and have been in each other's consulter, as well as consoler when need be.
We are both RL married, and I have listened to his heart ache from time to time, when his SL breaks apart.
We have a joke about every year on his birthday, he receives a delicious SL gift from me. Usually some little scene he doesnt receive in his RL from his little missus, and, I delight in giving him what he craves. Of course to him, he thinks I am bending to his need, in reality, he BENDS to me.. I am controlling every single stroke, every word, every action. He just doesnt realize it.

Today, I received an IM from him. Just a simple, "Hi".. I knew soon it would be followed by a "SL life stinks".. and " I'm so sorry it didnt work out for you".. of couse he feels devastated, of course he feels hurt, of course I pick up the pieces. I do care after all.

To make him laugh, I remind him that his birthday has just past, and of course the yearly offer stands. Immediately he perks up and says "oooh, that is righhhhhht.. hmmmmmm , you ARE better than RL cake, you are complete sugar, the addictive kind."
I laugh at him and say, well.. I am Boss of sugar in my world, and Mother always stressed a "girl might be pretty, but she can always catch more flies with sugar" He said that the word Boss and bossy is something he never associated with me.

--insert--headspinning all the way around. WHAT?! Me, not bossy, not assertative? No way.

I was in shock. I realized that he just had never seen that side of me. He has seen the vanilla side, and my prissy manners always has been a priority.
He laughed and said, "why are you so offended with that?"
I said, I'm a Domme, of coarse I am bossy. He paused and thought for a moment. That's it.. That's what I want...

I snickered and had a Jack Nicholson moment. I told him, he couldnt handle the situation or the scene. He said he didn't think I was tough enough. A Dominion Domme.. not tough enough?
HA! I have a cyclone link fence gloryhole with his name on it.

Next week, the scene.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Journey of Submission Part VI

Submitted by Nicolae Parx

Roxana despised clocks and kept few in her home. When Nicolae awoke, he knew it was morning, yet he had no bearings on the familiar to figure out the 'when' he required to plan his day. Shaking his head as if to jostle some sense back into it, he could determine only that it felt like morning and the cool ocean breezes made staying under the warm comforter more desirable.
He sat up slowly with the down wrapped around him as if to protect him from unseen and unknown forces that seemed to swirl in the breeze that snuck into the room through the oversized windows. For the first time, he looked around Roxana's suite.

Beige and sand and orange and peach infiltrated his vision. Her colors were obviously carefully selected, yet Nicolae could discern no single pattern whose purpose it was to draw the rooms into any sort of single entity. Yet it fit together, he surmised, because it was supposed to. After all, Roxana revealed new parts of her every moment. Why should her decorating seem finished?
The houseboy walked in without knocking and placed a tray on the table in the sunny alcove.
"Coffee," he informed Nicolae unnecessarily as the aroma filled the room. "Mistress requires you in the den in 45 minutes."

As he turned to exit, Nicolae inquired, "How do I know when it's 45 minutes?"

The boy's response was as straightforward as it was confounding. "Either figure it or be early," he smirked and strode out of the suite.
When he exited, Nicolae realized for the first time that the boy's body was well toned and tan. From behind and through the almost sheer white silk shorts he wore, Nicolae saw the very type of ass that Roxana had once referred to as her only fetish. Tight. She liked asses, and the tighter there were, the better. He remembered her words like they were seared into his brain and he kept them in his thoughts for every long hour he spent in the gym.
"The first hour is for you," she told him whenever he talked about going to the gym. "The second hour is for me."

One night, during a marathon cell phone conversation, he had related to her the story of Gold's Gym, his music and his workout. It was the first time she had been quiet long enough to listen to everything he felt the need to share to with her and her silence urged him on. He didn't omit a detail.
"Finally, the music built and built and there was this crescendo coming," his voice rose in pitch like the music that played in his ears. "And then, just when I thought I couldn't run anymore and the treadmill was tilted and I was damn near running uphill and my legs were burning, then the damned machine stopped! The time was up but I couldn't even imagine stopping! No, the music was getting ready and I was ready and I finished my water and turned it on again."

Unseen on her own coast, Roxana's eyes filled with the threat of tears.

"Right then, I knew it, I knew that it was now your hour and I turned that thing on high and started the music and my legs started running. It wasn't for me. I ran, well, my legs ran, and I know I turned around and was running backwards for a while and all the time the music was blaring in my ears and I could feel it coming on."

Rather than sounding exhausted, his voice was strong and intent. He had a story to tell and nothing was going to stop him. Roxana listened through her tears.
"I was running and dancing, twisting and turning, I'm not sure which or when, and I have no idea where it came from, but it was for you. The others who were there? They must have looked at me like I was crazy. And I felt crazy - just crazy enough to run backwards up hill and feel the sweat just pouring off me. I didn't have to look at myself in any of those mirrors; nope, I knew what I would see. I'd see someone," he paused for the briefest of moments, "who was doing it for you."

He took a breath and Roxana sobbed quietly into the phone. He knew what she was feeling but he was relentless. The story had to be completed.
"It built and built - - the music was the only thing I heard and my body, well, it wasn't mine. Not for that time. No, it was a body running into nowhere and doing it for you. I never even thought that I couldn't run anymore and it was a whole lot more than I ever ran in one session, but it didn't matter. Only doing it mattered. Only doing it for you mattered."

Roxana's voice would have broken if she had tried to interject a sentence. Even a continent away, Nicolae knew it, too, and continued his story inexorably into her ear.
"I knew right then, somehow, that one day you'd touch my ass. I just knew it. And I was going to make damned sure that it was rock hard under your hand. I was running for me, and then for you."

Unable to take anymore of his genuine honesty, Roxana vowed that one day she would indeed touch his ass and she knew, without having to think about it, that it would be rock hard to her touch. The gift he gave her that night in that phone call was one of his first steps into authentic submission. It was genuine, no matter how far away it was. Having felt that validity only rarely in her life, Nicolae's gift brought her new meaning.
"And then I stopped," his determined voice concluded and Roxana broke down and cried. For several minutes, they both listened to dead air time before he asked her if she were all right.

"My sweet boy," she managed into the mouthpiece, "I will touch you - - one day."

At that moment, there was nothing left for either of them to say.

The darkness was surprisingly invigorating to Nicolae when he entered the den. The single candle's glow that interrupted the blackness invading his eyes was at first a disturbance but soon became a welcome respite from the tension that lay within him so deeply that it seemed to emanate from his bones. The soft aroma of gardenias, which he inhaled when he allowed himself to breathe, infected his senses beyond simply that of smell.
What captured his attention so assiduously was that it was utterly silent. Neither ocean nor street noises attacked his concentration nor did any extraneous sound interrupt his absorption in the process. She had warned him that he must not anticipate the destination. Instead, she reminded him repeatedly that he must savor the journey.
His body sank onto the couch as he tried to become one with it, as she had told him in so many ways and so many times. Although being one with a couch had made no sense to him when she explained it so painstakingly, the task seemed within in physical and mental grasp when he actually laid himself on the soft afghan. The fluffy blanket surrounded him both physically and emotionally and the more he allowed it to encompass him, the more it enveloped him.
Only the glow of the single candle and the aroma of gardenia filled his senses. Along with the heady feeling of floating within the afghan, he felt almost relaxed. Before she left the room, Roxana had promised him a respite from reality - a perfect moment - and his eagerness to absorb every second of that sacred time competed with his resolve to cede his control to whatever she had planned. It was always like that; it seemed to him as his mind raced ceaselessly, every opportunity was wasted in the mêlée that his mind forced upon his body. Even though she promised that this time would be a different reality for him, he felt resigned to yet another experience that would be lost and he cursed silently his own inability to simply let go.
The room was warm and the balmy ocean air impressed itself upon every inch of his skin. Concentrating on the blushing flame behind his head, he tried to expose himself physically to its glow. Calculating that the more of his skin that touched the soft light or drank in the fragrant aroma, the more he would be hastened into that special space, he turned his legs outward and placed his palms up as if to render more of his physical being available to what he craved.
The only problem was that it wasn't working.

The tension wouldn't subside; the world's anxiety wouldn't recede from his supine shoulders. Nicolae's gut was wrenching of its own accord and even as he fought to control its turmoil, he noted that his ankles were getting stiff. When he worked tenaciously at overcoming that particular problem, another arose as he recognized the ache in his neck - the one that he got almost every afternoon from sitting in front of a monitor that could be bigger or adjusted better and on a chair that felt, at times, like it simply didn't fit. Helplessness and hopelessness filled his thoughts, as he understood completely that he would never achieve what she had promised - a single moment.
All she had promised him was something that he had never felt before. Good intentions, he mused as he watched the flame dance to an unseen and unfelt breeze. But he knew better; good intentions never suffice. Not with him. He just didn't work that way.
Naked meant just that and he was amused when she stripped the watch from his wrist prior to arranging him on the couch. Now he wished he had a way of determining just how long he had been there in that useless and unproductive position. Ten minutes? An hour? Longer? Fighting with the schedule that seemed omnipresent inside his brain, he wondered what things he could have accomplished in the time he had just spent so ineffectually.
After counting the tiles on the ceiling and pumping his fingers into fists several dozen times, he felt a strange sensation behind his head.
Someone was there.

Unable to determine if it were one person or more or even where they had come from, his body tensed in response to the realization of another human form behind him. When earphones were slipped around his head and a soft murmuring filled his brain, he could no longer listen for telltale signs that would enable him to compute the number of extra people who might be in the room. At least his ankle stopped hurting and he was thankful for the brief respite from his concentration.
Sniffing almost desperately to recapture the gardenia fragrance and ground himself again in the reality that was his for this time, he felt an odd feeling of dryness in his throat that surprised him. At least the candle's glow still surrounded him and gave him a strange sense of peace even with a dry throat and agonized mind.
Fingers from nowhere drew what he anticipated would be a blindfold around his eyes. Once in place, he realized that it was not the black leather or fabric he predicted; rather, it was an odd foam barrier between his face and his eyes' ability to focus. Although the shield wasn't opaque, it distorted the candle's glow so that his eyes witnessed a kaleidoscope of images that danced simultaneously in front and behind the translucent screen that separated his eyes from reality.
His senses were being invaded one at a time and he was having trouble keeping up with the intrusions Roxana was apparently inflicting upon him. Inhaling frantically to gain another whiff of the floral aroma, blinking his eyes to focus on the unseen, straining his ears to hear any discernible sounds, and shifting noiselessly to feel more than the apparition of floatation in which his body seemed immersed, Nicolae's body was a struggle-in-motion that, to an outside observer, seemed almost inert. Anger welled within him as he fought for control. Yet he did not move. Not much.

Fingers touched his temples from behind. Round strokes massaged the aching sides of his face until he finally closed his eyes to any distraction the odd goggles sent toward his retinas. For the moment, he gave in to the circular motions and sent his awareness singularly to those fingers. The pressure they bore was minimal; the result they provided was blissful. For that moment, he felt only his temples and whatever pain had been in his ankle was now a mere memory.
What next, he wondered. Roxana's agenda was as clear to him as it was likewise vague: a perfect moment unlike any other he had experienced. Unable to define either her motives or her plan, Nicolae's thoughts coalesced into a rapid torrent of questions interrupted only by the heavenly comfort attached to his temples. The questions lurked but quickly diminished. He fought to push them behind his present into somewhere and sometime less important.
Nicolae felt like he was failing.

An inch at a time, and sometimes even less distance than that, the fingers moved across his face. Circling his eyes, cheeks, jaw and nose, they brought a sort of reassurance mired in relief to his neck and shoulders. Her fingers were the essence of gardenia and his lungs drank in the taste. Desperate for more, he shifted slightly on the bed. Trying to set the schedule for her plan, Nicolae's body strove to make her aware of his enjoyment in a silent pleading for more.
The fingers withdrew and his body shifted again, in silent communication with the unseen hands that had suddenly fled. He wanted more. His body craved it; his mind demanded it. She withheld it.
Silence, except for the murmuring in his ears, suffocated him. His eyes chose not to open and his body lay absolutely still as the struggle within him beleaguered his thoughts. The only outward sign of his inner turmoil would be invisible to most viewers, but she saw the slight shudder that his body performed. It was time, she assessed.
Grasping his hands, Roxana lifted him from the couch and walked him blindly ahead. Obviously walking behind him, Nicolae felt her body touch his own and their skin mingled during the short walk to wherever his destination lay. Her hands surrounded his chest and lay on his nipples; her arms encased him and her warm skin converged with his own. Unsteadily, he walked until she grasped his midsection and brought him to a halt.
Together, they walked down several steps into water that was warm and motionless. The air was unscented, the room silent. One by one, the accoutrements were lifted from his ears and eyes, and he was alone, with her, in black silence.
He felt her legs wrap around his waist and lift him onto his back. His head, now tilted backward, lay on her chest. His legs splayed before him and floated aimlessly in the wet black darkness. It was utterly peaceful.
Together they became one elongated body.

The struggle diminished and Nicolae's thoughts seemed to float of their own accord away from his body into the wet cocoon that encircled him. Hovering above and below the water, he no longer felt the differentiation between her legs and his hips. Her hands became extensions of him and the fingers she placed on his scalp seemed to belong there. Tiny circles became larger ones; minute pressure increased. The places she touched became alive for that moment of contact and he longed for the instant to become eternity.
When Roxana touched his shoulder, Nicolae wanted to cry out in approval but his voice would not respond. Fingers danced along every muscle and kneaded the distress from each. Tracing the striations, she encircled his arms down to his fingertips as he felt the stress of a lifetime flush into the warm water.
He wanted to stay there forever.

With a sudden yet gentle lift, he felt her body remove itself from beneath him and place his head on a soft shelf. Alone and floating, he felt more pressure fall into the water and he rose higher.
Her tongue touched between his toes with a feeling of warmth that bedeviled his sensibilities. Each toe was gifted; his
insteps were kneaded gently; and his calves felt her ministrations. Had it been hours, he wondered, or mere minutes?
Expert manipulation assaulted his calves and knees as she moved her touch to his watery thighs. Parting them gently, she placed herself between his legs and took his midsection within her arms. For a moment, her head rested on him and the two created yet another single body whose soul strived for a singular goal.
Her touch was complete, total and yet surprisingly asexual. She held every part of him, including a piece of his soul, in her fingers, hands, mouth and arms. And when she was done, his mind levitated briefly and for that instant - he felt absolutely nothing.
The nothingness juxtaposed alongside his very real being metamorphosed into a ravenous hunger that shunned thought. Unable to concentrate or merely to think, he could only feel. And what he felt was simply nothing.
Unsure of how long that heavenly moment lasted, he gave in to it. When it ended, he craved its return - yet he was incapable of achieving it alone. Feeling powerless and leaden, he yearned for her touch yet she held it back from his real and eager longing.
And then, out of nowhere, her fingers touched his temples as his head lay on her chest. And she began again.

Over afternoon tea, the conversation was filled with Nicolae's questions that were shot in rapid-fire succession and that demanded answers that Roxana's smile served as the only reply he would receive. The morning was gone, he realized, and for the first time figured out that she had him in that pool for at least 3 hours. Because he didn't know what time he started, he had no concept of when it finished, much less any concept of what time it was now.
He inhaled a huge breath and felt the rising tension dispel.

"What happened?" he asked plaintively.

"Why don't you tell me?" Roxana asked plainly and without a hint of sarcasm or challenge.
Biting the scone, Nicolae reflected before answering, a process that Roxana silently applauded. "I think that's called sensory deprivation," Nicolae commented.
"Did you feel deprived?" she asked with a small smile.

"Oh no!" he almost shouted. "No, not in any way. No, I felt… full. I just don't know what was filling me." Nicolae's voice wandered a bit before he collected his thoughts again. "I was empty and full at the same time, wasn't I?"

Her eyes looked into his own and Nicolae felt her gaze penetrate deep into his chest. Taking her own deep breath, Roxana replied. "You were cluttered," she began. "Filled with this trying to please me and not understanding what it is that really pleases me," she concluded.
Nicolae agreed silently with a single nod.
"How can you be what I want you to be, and what you want you to be if you're full of junk?" she laughed quietly as he stared at her curled lips and felt his own move upward. "Think of it as housecleaning," she spoke through her smile.

Nicolae took another small bite of his scone and sipped hot tea while he thought about the meaning she wasn't offering to him. His mind was aflutter with a myriad of thoughts and ideas and conclusions and possibilities, but he was equally certain that he just didn't get it yet. Priding himself on figuring it out and always "getting it," Nicolae's demeanor turned suddenly serious.
"I don't know that I'll ever know what pleases you," he whispered.

Roxana grinned widely and touched his hand across the small table. "That's the first step on our journey," she spoke into his eyes. "Are you ready to take another step with me now?"
Nicolae's chest swelled with the hunger that he knew so well from their late night chats and phone calls when all he could feel was acute need for her presence and her touch. Just below his heart and above the bottom of his rib cage, the rising tension centered into a sort of extraordinary tightness he'd felt so often, sometimes when a mere piece of email from her showed up in his inbox or a message appeared in his chat software.
"I'm not ready," he spoke syllable by syllable. "But I need to," he whispered. "I've got to!" he finished in a stronger voice. And Roxana knew that he'd have no more to say right now; instead, it was time for him to take the next step on his journey. As evening fell, she made him work out with her houseboy in the gym as she readied what she was going to need and steeled herself for what would surely be a spectacular evening.

Nice Treat

Submitted by Skepta Scorpio

I wait patiently by the door, on my knees, waiting for my Goddess to return home. A car pulls into the drive. As I look through the glass, the door of the car opens, and a black heeled boot touches the floor. The hairs on my neck stand to attention, as my Mistress walks towards the door.

I open the door and she takes a step inwards. She walks in the door kicking it closed behind her. She raises her foot, to my chest, pressing her boot firmly against me, I caress the boot in my hand, looking up at my Mistress for a sign of approval, she gestures with her eyes and I begin to lick the length of her boot. The black leather smells like home. My tongue cleans the boot from heel to toe. My Mistress leans forward kissing my cheek and attaching the leash to my collar. She then parades me around the sitting room.

She sits on the hard wooden chair and she parts her legs, I catch a glimpse of her panties and my crotch tightens. How I long for my face to be buried in her juices, lapping at her folds, pleasuring her with my tongue. She tells me to strip, which I do immediately. My Mistress caught me looking at her panties and she asked if I liked what I saw. To which I replied “yes Miss”. She told me to stand and bend over, she pulled a thick leather paddle from her hand bag, and she reminded me I was not to look until instructed to do so. She proceeded to remind me, with 20 spanks to each cheek, the pain was intense, but I lovingly thanked her after each one.

She removed her panties and sat on the hard wooden chair, hitching her skirt further up around her thighs. She points to her sex, and I crawled forward on my hands and knees, I kissed her inner thigh, moving my way towards my prize. The desire to please my Mistress is almost over powering. She softly speaks and tells me to put my hands behind my back. Her legs part even further and with nothing to steady myself I fall forward, my face pressed firmly against her lips.

I part them with my tongue, lapping at her clit, my lips pressed around it as I gently suck it into my mouth, teasing my tongue slowly across it then releasing it with a kiss. My tongue moving down towards her entrance probing her deep with my strong tongue, tasting her sweet juices. Her moans indicate I am pleasing her, I find her hands upon my head, pulling my hair , pushing my face closer to her as pussy tightens as she rubs my face in her sex. I suck her pussy lips, rolling my tongue around her folds. Her moans intensify, as she pulls my hair tighter.

I could hardly breath with my face pushed so tightly into her sex, her hips buck and a warm rush of juice flood my mouth. Swallowing hard I try to keep up. Drinking from my Mistress is truly a gift. She holds me still as her body shudders. Then she pushes me away, and orders me to go and make the dinner. I smile, “Thank you my Mistress”. I say as I leave the room to make the dinner.

A Brief Awakening

Submitted anonymously by a Domme at the Dominion

The event that you are about to hear is a true story from my past, told as closely to what happened as I remember it. I want to take you back to a time in my life when I was young and still almost innocent, a time when I should have realised what it is I know now about myself but still had no idea even existed.

The scene, a man's bedroom, a very dull and ordinary room, with just a single bed and a few pieces of furniture in which to put clothes and books and the mundane objects that make up parts of our life. The girl, myself, was young, a little on the plump and cuddly side but found that she loved to tease boys, make them blush and generally have them eating out of her hand, metaphorically at least. The man, well, he was a little of a mummy's boy, older than myself by a good few years but still not very worldly wise. We lay on the bed cuddled up together and as always it wasn't long before the urge to lose a few clothes, or at least, the urge for him to lose a few clothes took over. We'd done this many times before but today seemed a little different. As my hand wandered in the direction of his belt buckle, he seemed just a little nervous, I undid the buckle, slowly and teasingly as I usually did and he began to squirm just a little more. The button on his jeans was tempting me and as I reached for it I couldn't help but notice the redness in his cheeks and his attempts to stop me from undoing the button. He wasn't exactly saying no, but his discomfort was very apparent, so I asked him, "what is wrong" and he wouldn't tell me. My fingers worked the button loose and I went for the Zipper, by now his blush was bright red and his squirming and wriggling rather pleasant, I was laughing at him and wondering what was causing his obvious distress, though still he seemed to be enjoying himself.

My face must have been a picture as I tugged his pants loose and my eyes met the sight of him clad in MY French knickers, a rather silky lacy black pair that I loved to wear. The room was silent as I adjusted my feelings and tried to comprehend what I was seeing. My head awash with odd emotions, at first, just the shock and then on looking further, I realised that I LIKED what I was seeing and was becoming aroused at the thought of it. On further questioning he told me he had taken them and worn them to work because he enjoyed the feeling. Not only had he worn them to work, but he had had a little special time out with them during his lunch-break,a short time alone in a cubicle while he took care of the erection that had been bothering him on and off all morning. At this point I was laughing and enjoying what he was telling me. For the rest of the week, he had my permission to wear and use MY garment for his pleasure on the condition that he told me when and where he was wearing them. For that week, I enjoyed the feeling of control I had over him, in knowing his secret. I would ask when he called "was he wearing them again" hearing the nervous laugh before he would answer and say yes he was and then the quiet while he waited for the question that was coming next "did you use them today" and then the description of what he'd done with them.

I couldn't understand why I had such a thrill from this, I began to think there was something wrong with me for enjoying the sight of a man dressed that way and to hear his confessions of being "naughty" with my under garment. I pushed those feelings away instead of embracing them and trying to find out more and I'm sad to say the experience wasn't repeated or spoken about for a long time since, myself and the man parted company, I moved on with a life and apart from a few brief "playtimes" I didn't experience anything like that again until finally finding myself in Secondlife. My confession is that I regret I didn't find out anything much about this lifestyle until a few years back, and now I feel like I'm playing catch up on a whole world of experience.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

First Punishment

Submitted by Clarissa Greymoon

" You know that you owe me something " she said in a suddenly undertone voice. She had almost whispered in his ear. These few words, as she kissed his shoulder, aroused him and a wave crossed his body, from the chest down to the belly. These last two weeks, he had accrued small disobediences, sometimes out of pure oversight, often out of provocation. All that deserved punishment, they had easily agreed there. Obeying, disobeying, being punished, thanking for the punishment, kissing the hand which had just flailed him, snuggling then at his Mistress’ feet and enjoying this moment of intense closeness. Then start it again: obeying, disobeying...

He was naked. His wrists tied up with a thin rope had found refuge in hhr hand. Not a single moment had she left this Ariadne's thread, holding it as a leash since the beginning of the evening. He loved to feel so dependent, attached to her as a kite to the ground : free as far as she allowed him, free in his mind, sure that she was watching over him, free to fly away in the clouds of his submission.

"You know that you owe me something ". He sighed more than he answered " oh not, not now ". A slap on his hipe called him to order. "Yes…". Some pain as sharp as brief drew out a surprised gasp. His right nipple had just been strongly pinched and twisted. "yes Mistress" did he reply obediently

As she was blindfolding him, she firmed up what the punishment would be: she had decided to use a flogger and to take the opportunity to investigate all the parts of his body, thanks to the relative sweetness of the whip. Of course, his buttocks will be flailed, but also his belly, thighs, chest, back, shoulders...

Her voice was comforting. Her words were worrying. The beats of his heart went a little more intensive, his breathe quickened. And if that hurts too much? And If she goes too far? And if it was too strong? And if he liked it? he was swinging back and forth between fear and desire. The fear of the pain, the fear of failing, the fear of not being worthy, the desire to show her how submissive he was, the urge to bear the punishment for her, the urge to be under her influence, the urge to let feelings and sensations go, the urge to slowly sink into the subspace, that subtle blending of pleasure and pain.

Her duty was to keep to that borderline, neither swing on a side nor on the other, keeping up with the limit to investigate the boundaries of pleasure, slightly brushing the danger but never walking into it.

Her hand stroke his flank softly, went down ) on the thigh, then back up inside, brushing his sex with the tip of the nails. " hushhhh. Do not move " . No audible word was able to go out of his mouth, hardly an approval between sigh and shout. His confusion increased from second till second, the wait seemed endless. She took all her time on purpose. Let the doubt invade him the fear clatter with the desire. she could almost feel the acceleration of his pulse. She stepped back and took the flogger in her right hand.

When he felt her approaching again, he knew that the moment had come. Already... Finally...

Letter from Mistress

Submitted anonymously by a Domme at the Dominion


All day I dreamt of the things I will do to you. How I will use and abuse you… Torture you. Make you my prey. How to go about making you tremble without touching you. To enjoy every drop of your fear. I want the air to tingle around you. I want to make your stomach turn in knots of anticipation, dying on my every breath. I want you to feel the burn of my words into your mind as you would feel the sting of my hand to your flesh. I want to lay you bear and taste the pain of your soul. I want you begging for mercy as I take you to the edge and push you over, crawling back to me just so I can do it again and again. I am utterly selfish and want you to completely crave the anguish of my adoration.


Femdom flashes from RL

Submitted anonymously by a submissive at the Dominion

My first erotic dream was on the night of my 7th or 8th birthday. I remember
clearly because it was the day Sister Robert Mary administered my birthday
spanking.* I knew the day was coming, and I’d seen birthday spanks before mine.
I figured the best thing was to get it over quickly, so, when called on I
marched right up to her and without being told lay across her lap, expecting her
to follow my plan and administer the spanking quickly. Sister had other plans.
She took her time, enjoying my predicament, first speaking to me, asking me what
I wanted, and then polling the class. I was mortified and in a strange way,
turned on by the play of wills, each knowing the others thoughts.

After high school and before joining the Military, I worked in a number fast
food restaurants including Papa Gino’s. I would work the grill and bus tables.
When working the grill I would wear a short leather apron. I kept it tied tight
as I was a young, lanky lad. One day I was bussing tables and a female patron
left a note for me saying “Nice Butt, Love the Panties”. I was not wearing
panties (on this occasion), but my briefs had ridden up. I just positively
beamed at the note, focusing more on the “Nice Butt” part of the note rather
than the “panties” part of the note. I was proud of my 22 year old butt. My
smile must have spread from ear to ear. I let co-workers read the note, not
thinking they would choose to focus on the panties part, but of course they did.

I joined the Military 6 years later than is customary. Because I was older than
most of the other guys my rank it tough to make off duty friends. Guys my own
age could not ‘fraternize’ with lower ranks, and guys of my rank were immature
kids right out of high school. Because of this I often went out to town
on my own. On one of these occasions I was drinking at the bar a few stools down
from a group of 3 or 4. All of a sudden, a woman in the group threw her drink at
me. I managed to avoid most of the liquid, but she wasn’t done. She glared at
me, I didn’t dare say a word. When one of her companions asked why she had done
it, she said;

“SHE was staring at me”,

loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear so everyone turned to look. I was
frozen, like a deer in the headlights. If she had ordered me to, I probably
would have kissed her boots. But she didn’t. Her friends calmed her down, and I
left the bar, and we never met again, although I did go back to that bar many
times tempting fate.

*Maybe in a future confession I’ll tell you about Sister ‘Grab Your Ankles’ Dorothia.

A Night at the Ball

Submitted anonymously by a submissive at the Dominion

Dear Ms. Syriana:

When I told a lady of the Dominion about a dream I had about the Imperial Ball coming up a few weeks ago, she asked me to write down my next dream and send it to you for Confessions. This is that dream, as best I could record it and make it into a story.

I am holding in my hands a letter on old, dirty and slightly bloodied stationery. It is written in two very different scripts, one apparently French, impeccably written, and the other, Kazakh, as it is called now, in classic, but rough, Cyrillic. I read French badly, but as best I can tell, the first part says:

"My General, I found this in a stack of battle plans we recovered today. I thought you should see what it says. It tells me a lot about the thinking of our enemy."

Below that, in a somehow familiar hand, the author was more personal:

My Dearest Ekaterina:

I am writing to thank you for the wonderful time you showed me at the Ball last evening. I cannot believe my good fortune in meeting you. It had been a difficult ride from the Borodino front to Moscow to get to the Ball. Several times I almost turned back.

I am so happy I did not! You showed me a most wonderful night!

I will never forget my arrival. As the beautiful ladies emerged from their carriages, I could not help but envy the footmen who assisted them. The men in the carriages, maybe not. I am a soldier and my uniform suits me far better than modern jackets and fancy silk fabrics. Our host was kind enough to provide soaps and fragrances for cleaning and aides to beat the ride from my clothes. That was all I needed.

But the footmen! To get to touch the ladies' hands, sometimes to hold their shoes as they stepped down. That is an honor I suppose I now will never have.

Yet, it was you whom I will always remember from the party. Your gown was simpler and more elegant than now is the fashion, but it spoke of a woman of clear mind and simple tastes.

Your boots revealed as much when you walked -- high, black leather that obviously had been worn, not just for appearance but for life. Your confident handling of the crop as you checked it and your coat told me who you were. I literally could not keep my eyes off you. Even now, my mind's eye wanders and sees you standing across the room.

I suppose my fascination for you and your attire is how you caught me staring and why you called me over. "Colonel, don't you know better than to stare at a woman? ", you told me. "Get me a drink!"

And with those words, you owned me.

I will not soon forget delivering your drink on bended knee.

I will never forget your taking my own drink from me and drinking it as easily as if it was yours, and, I suppose, it was.

Nor will I forget your telling me that I didn't need to have a drink on my own and to follow you into the chambers that our host had so graciously provided her guests.

And then there were your boots. The honor of your letting me clean them once we were alone. The scent of the worn leather, mixed with yours, was intoxicating. The sight of your legs as the boots extended up your thighs was thrilling. Even the grit of the dirt on my tongue told me of my duty, my devotion to you, my existing just to serve you -- and, incredibly, we had just met!

I sit here now with the morning light growing brighter than the candles in my tent. The long night's ride away from you is past. The fog is rising from the grassy hills, and I am reviewing the orders i have received for my regiment's defense of you and Moscow (or is it just of you -- I care for little more right now). As I sit, the burning in my seat keeps me yours. I remember you ordering me to your lap and the touch of your hand. Was it a hundred times. or more? "Whap" came the first, so sensuous and confident. "Whap Whap" came more and more. I don't remember how many, just that you had my bottom connected directly to my brain, which swam in the ether at your repeated touch.

And then there was that brush! Was that an imperial crest, black and gold, impressed into my rear so many times, over and over? Surely, for all the hellish heat I feel, I am now as black back there as the black on your brush. And I feel like I received a treasury's worth of gold in the value of the beating. The colors of our country were what you visited on me last night.

But you did not stop there, and that is the reason I feel compelled to write now. I must thank you -- even as we approach this moment of conflict. My dear Ekaterina, the courtiers at the ball, many of them not soldiers, talked often of the honor of war. There is no honor to war, only the horror of honorable lives lost, limbs torn, horses killed and maimed, and blood spent. This was has been the stuff of my nightmares, day and night for months, until you took me away from that last night.

You took me away for a blessed time when you ordered me to my knees and brought my head between your legs. My duty then was not to our Tsar, not to generals or counts, not even to my fellow Cossacks, but to you and your button, and with my tongue, not with a sword or a rifle or my regiment. Oh, how I loved running my tongue around inside you, feeling your response to my touch, feeling your strong thighs pressing against my head, feeling the hardening of your clit. You put my mind in shackles to you, but you freed me from my nightmares. For that, I am and will forever be thankful!

The taste of your juices, the smell of your lust, the sight of your mound took me clear of the flashbacks and the visions of conflict that so occupy my days and so haunt my nights. I loved feeling your body stiffen when you came, and not just the first time but for the second and was that a third as you grabbed my hair and slapped my cheeks for getting lost in my reverie? Yes, I should have been focused on you. I was and am your servant. I thank you for that.

I can still feel the pleading in my eyes when I begged for release myself and you said "No" and told me that I would need my strength today. You were right. Are you always so right? Somehow, I believe so.

I know it is assuming much that you would ever grant me the right to see you again. Indeed, it is assuming much that I should ever have the opportunity to ask. The little villain's cannons are signaling his attack already. I swear the man is the devil himself! This the mightiest force the fatherland has ever mounted, yet there are far too few of us and too many of his.

Yet, my hope is that you will read this. If you do, it means I made it through, and that you are safe for another night. Then, there can be another Ball and a chance, I hope, to kneel at your feet, to feel your touch and to know the peace of being Yours. We cannot lose forever. The fatherland is too large for the little villain to take it all. He has no supplies. My regiment and the other Cossacks will hound him until he leaves, never again to return. Victory will be ours in this patriotic war.

I just hope we will not lose today, as I hope to someday be yours again, and not just for the night.

And that, my General, is where the letter ends. We found an officer's mount with the bag of plans. We did not find the officer. I do not know what became of him. Tonight, you and I will dine in Moscow and enjoy today's victory. I fear, however, that he may be right, and I envy his moments away from this War.

Field Marsh... (and the rest is worn away).

I would say "the end" now, but there is an odd thing about this letter: Somehow I remember writing it -- although more in the passing of a dream than in normal memory. History records that Napoleon entered Russia on September 8, 1812, after killing 44,000 Russians and Cossacks the day before, only to find an empty, burning city -- my Ekaterina having escaped. Two centuries and who knows how many lives later, I still feel thankful for that night!

And that is the end.

Clash of Fears

Submitted by Tehgan Vaher

"Mmmmmm" she purrs in soft cat-like moans. Her breath a mix of a whisper and growl, dripping with lust from the heightened pleasure she's taking from him. Her eyes dance over the body under her. Nipples pinched and erect, deepen in colour as they shiver to life as the hot, electric wind washes over him. How lovely his face contorts in a mask twisted from the pain of pleasure bleeding into the pleasure of pain.

A sudden flash lights the indigo-painted sky and she shudders in a fearful spasm of recognition quickly followed by the feeling of fullness as his cock digs deeper into her. The deafening cascade of rolling thunder brings her out of the revelry she's been enjoying: riding the strong stallion beneath her and cussing loudly as she feels the fright ripple through her like a pebble disrupting the glassy solitude of a forgotten pond.

He flinches and stops the eb and flow of his hips rising and rolling to gently stroke the inside of the velvety soft, sucking walls of her sex. With a strike as sudden and forceful as the thunder caps echoing along the path of illuminated streaks the lightening scars the sky with - her hand finds his cheek. A pain-filled yelp breaks the silence hanging between them and she brings the other hand down to mark the other cheek. "Thank you, Mistress." was all he needed to say and all that was necessary, but filled with the very essence of his submission to her dominance and she squeezes her thighs against him bringing his rhythm back - a simple gesture letting him know his words have more meaning then most will ever fathom or begin to understand.

Another jagged bolt dances across the blackness above like a lovers tongue torturing it's conquest with it's sizzling touch. Her body casts shadows down onto his body, now covered with a light film of sweat ... glinting from the quick flashes seeming like the facets of a diamond when you hold it, twisting it to enjoy the mystical fire burning within it's core. She can see the lust in his eyes, burning deep from the pleasure her body evokes from it as she gently slides herself up and down the steel-like shaft poised tall and proud for her.

A series of deafening claps shakes the ground beneath them with their raw power. One after one they turn the night into a false sense of daylight and she can see the terror in his eyes. She slams her aching cunt down to swallow the full length of his meat, the power of the storm feeding the primal urges she has to rut with him as two wild beasts in the hight of mating season. There is no love here ... just pure bestial lust and need. The single emotional connection of using each other's bodies as the focus of as much pleasure she can ween from him as she can. He grunts and moans freely, just as she likes her fuck meat ... wanton and whorishly letting her know he relishes in the harsh and unyielding pleasure she steals from him.

With every flash of lightening and rumble of thunder born of it's assault she takes him harder and faster ... deeper and deeper ... bouncing her body down onto his as she impales him with her craving sex. Her arms curl above hear head as her face turns towards the heavens above, offering it her passions in thankful homage for the beast beneath her. The sway of her heavy breasts entice him and he wants to reach for them, squeeze and sample them - but he knows better and grips the ground at his rocking hips to fight off the sweet temptation.

Suddenly her body shudders and as if on queue the sky is scorched with a branching whip of lightning and the rain washes over them to mix with the musky cream her pussy explodes onto him. He has to be careful, the powerful sucking and flexing of her tight cunt always takes him the brink if his own eruption, and he's learned the hard way to never lose focus unless he's been gifted the sweet release. Her hands roam over the beautiful flesh of the woman who owns him ... the hips that are soft and round - perfect to hold onto when permitted. The heavy, fullness of her breasts with it's perfect nubs of suckable flesh for nipples and it's halo of deep pink always so soft against his lips when he's permitted to suckle. The tuft of dark hair tainting the sacred yawning of her thighs as they wrap around him ... giving way to a teasing peep show of the most perfect pink lips as they stretch around his thick, hard shaft. How he fucking loves her, this woman of torturous treats and devious delights.

She looks down to him, hair dripping rivers of wet paths as it's plastered to her cheeks and chest from the pouring rain. Her lips curl into a smile -- that smile. The one reserved for him when she's pleased with him. The one which always makes time stand still and his heart to race so hard he feels it will explode within him. He smiles back to her, his cock slowly softening as she perches atop him, "Thank you, Mistress. You were beautiful as always."

She curls down and sucks his lips into a tender kiss as her finger finds her sex. She moans into his mouth breathlessly the words he loves to hear "You were perfect, my strong stallion." and treats him to her nectar. Satisfied with his show of adoration, she watches his face soften and almost radiate as his tongue curls around her finger to drink of it what she offers - the precious jewel of her soul. Her fingers finds him and massages his scalp momentarily before they entangle themselves into the dark locks and he's pulled from her.

She braces herself against his forehead and uses him to steady her shaking legs as she stands, wrapping the blanket around her in a vain attempt of staying dry from the downpour. "Pack this up and meet me at the car.", she simply states and walks towards the town car at the side of the road. The long grass slaps wetly against her naked thighs as she plows a path through them. The earth smells alive and reborn ... thick sulfuric scent of electricity left from the storm mixing with the sweet smell of the wet dirt. She smiles to herself, spent and satisfied as she slips into the back seat to sprawl out and get comfortable in the luxury sedan.

He hefts easily into the drivers seat and turns the heater on to warm the car so she doesn't catch a draft and watches her gaze out the window at the storm's death. Space between flashes more and more and the rumblings are farther off in the distance and he wonders if she will still be afraid of the lightening.

Why is Tiny called Tiny

Submitted by Tiny Merryman

Tiny... why tiny?

I get asked this a lot.

Well its not that simple and its not tiny 'bits' either.

It comes from a deep D/s feeling. The feeling of being wanted, important, controlled and wanting to please etc. plus being part of Her personal possessions.
I love the power exchange.. always wanting the power back again but being denied that basic feeling.. I think that's why bondage has a powerful effect in D/s; if you didn't wasn't the power back... why be tied?
I have been taught from birth, always to respect females. I have two older sisters and respecting them wasn't a bad move.. they were bigger than me for a start!
So why 'tiny' well it comes from a life long fear, fetish/fantasy which ever you want to call it... a life long fear of being tied, gagged and kept in my Mistress's leather handbag. Go with Her where ever She goes... being with Her and being part of Her personal items. The thought of this type of D/s power exchange for me is immense. Being in there, or even dropped in another's handbag as a punishment, has immense 'loss of power feelings' and cant do anything about it... captured!
The smell of being in the leather handbag, Her perfume and Her personal items is far more powerful thoughts than a hung metal cage... But that's me.

Its not a Giantess fetish.. the size is not important... its the thought... the D/s feelings. I has its good points to. I can go food shopping or in crowded places and come back having trouble so horny, seeing those bags and wondering. As its an impossible, can never happen, situation. The feeling will be with me all my life. I have know people who have experienced their fantasy/fetish because it was possible and it wasn't what they felt it would be like at all and have been left with empty feelings.

I love my fear, it harmless yet so strong. My research tells me it all comes from childhood. I remember it effecting me from the age of six... so what did my elder sisters get up to?

Well wishes


Submitted by Heather Steampunk

My Mistress had been out with friends and I was surprised when the phone rang. "Hello my Mistress." I answered as my heart started beating a little faster. I closed my eyes as I heard her soft soothing voice whispering in my ear "Hello My girl." She sounded like She was out of breath, it took me a few seconds to realize what was going on, but the soft moan that took control over my own body was very clear. "My girl, tell me a fantasy, now." I leaned back into my chair and thought about a fantasy to tell Her, to satisfy Her, to make Her happy. "Heather.." It was almost a whimper, and it startled me. "Heather.. " she said again, "Tell me a fantasy, a real one, don't make it up, tell me your fantasy, now."
I clear my throat and slowly start to speak. “In my fantasy my Mistress, You are watching me while I masturbate.” I can hear Her chuckle, “Very nice little one, tell me what happens.” I heard noise coming from the other end of the line, but decided not to ask Her what it was. I continue with my story and once again close my eyes to concentrate better. “I am lying down on bed and You are sitting across from me, in a big comfy chair. You put a blindfold over my eyes and have already told me to touch myself, so I am. My hands are stroking my skin and knowing that You are sitting across from me, watching me, makes me incredible wet.” I hear little sounds of approval coming from the back of Her throat as I continue. “In my mind I am not thinking about You watching me, but thoughts about Your soft skin, Your soft lips, Your touch on my skin run through my head. My hands run further down my skin, over my chest to my breasts and I pinch my nipples, making them hard, wishing it was Your touch that hardened them.” She whispers in my ear, “Touch yourself My girl.” I waste no time, I need the release, I need to feel Her close. My hand slips down my sweatpants and I run a finger through my already wet folds. I softly moan, and feel embarrassed. I have never done this for her before. We have never done this before. My finger teases my clit but soon finds a steady rhythm and I can already feel the tension building in my body. “Good girl, now continue your fantasy.” I hear a soft buzzing coming from the other end of the phone and I gasp. “Now, Heather, don’t make me wait.” So I continue telling her about my fantasy. “I reach for the vibrator that lies next to me and I turn it on. My cheeks are red hot as You watch me moving the vibrator more down and eventually slip it inside of me. I think about You sitting there, running Your own fingers over Your skin, slowly down Your belly and then between the wet silk folds between Your legs. I think about Your fingers brushing the tight bundle of nerves as You softly stroke it.” “That’s it My girl, are you getting closer, don’t even dare to come without my permission.” My breathing is faster and it gets harder to concentrate on the fantasy, I can hear Her softly moaning and I hear the buzzing getting louder. “Go on Heather, I told You, don’t make me wait.” Your hands are slowly moving further down and I let the vibrator slip out of me and tease my clit with it, the moment Your fingers dip inside of You. As Your fingers slide in and out of the hot, wet, velvet tunnel, my own tension builds.” And it does, my tension is building, I am on the edge of coming, but I know, I can’t, not until She tells me to.
“I spread my own legs wider and the vibrator is now on full speed, the muscles in my leg tensing and my body is shaking. In my fantasy You are very close as well, Your fingers are moving faster and faster, as Your other hand rubs Your clit. Watching You like that, knowing You are watching me as well, makes me so wet, and I ask You. I ask You for permission to come.”
I am silent after that. I want to come for Her on the phone, but I am scared to ask Her, then She speaks as Her breathing is fast. “I want you to come here and now Heather, but you are going to ask me, and once you ask me, you will come for me, do you understand?” I can hear Her growl, hearing Her touch Herself through the phone, hearing the sounds She makes, drives me wild. I cannot do this much longer so I ask Her, “Mistress, may I come.” There is silence on the other end of the line, but not for long, I can hear Her climax, and I bite my lip, my body is shaking and I ask Her again. “Mistress may I come.” Then Her voice, slowly speaks to me, for the first time in my life, She is hearing me masturbate, and for the first time since I have been with Her, She tells me: “No.”

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Lesson Learned

Submitted anonymously by a submissive at the Dominion

I'm a horny slut these days and there are good reasons for it. The biggest reason is my new sweet and sexy Miss. Believe me, there were days I was far from this horny and my sexdrive would be below zero. There were good reasons for that too. But these days, I can't seem to get enough and that.......that really pleases my Miss.

‘That’s wonderful!' was the first thing she said when I told her of this fact. 'But from now on, you're only going to cum, when I allow you to cum' was the next thing she said and at the same time as a sigh slipped my mouth, my stomach jumped with excitement.

I knew this would be hard for me, I knew it as soon as she spoke these words. But the fact that it would be hard, made it all the more exciting to have this restriction. The idea of pleasing my Miss, giving her the trust and knowledge that all my sexual pleasure from now on will be only for her, it made me feel much more submissive instantly.

The day came Miss wouldn’t be able to get in touch with me for a few days and I knew, I wouldn’t be able to cum for at least the same amount of time. ‘I can do this Miss’ I promised her the day before she would leave. ‘You want to please me, don’t you? And not disappoint me?’ she asked me one last time, to make sure. ‘Yes Miss, I do want to please you and I wont disappoint you Miss’, I respond. It was true, I wanted to make her proud, showing her I could do it, letting my excitement build up for the day she would be back, or better, for the day she would allow me to cum again.

Yes, I messed up.
She wasn’t even gone for a full day yet, but my hormones seemed to run wild. Fantasies about her and me had been going through my head all day, making me horny as hell. I had been working outside and coming home I needed a shower. Washing myself, touching myself, seeing and feeling my somewhat hard cock. ‘Don’t do it, don’t even think about it’ I repeated in my head, but at the same time the fact that I shouldn’t do it, seemed to turn me on even more and I felt my cock harden. ‘Oh my god’ I whispered to myself, and bit my lip. Quickly I turned off the hot water, and only cold water hit my body. That cooled me down a bit and I managed to get out of the shower without breaking any promise….yet.

The doorbell rang. ‘Hello, who is it?’ I asked, ‘we have a package for you sir’. I went down and soon discovered the package they brought me was a toy I ordered months ago. I totally forgot about it! Inside again I opened up the package and two pretty but totally fake silicon lips faced me. I gulped. Oh my god, I wanted to try that so bad. The lips looked perfect, I wanted to feel those around my cock, eyes closed, pretending it was my Miss. My cock grew hard again and soon I felt it softly throbbing in my pants. I kept staring at the silicon mouth and naughty thoughts ran through my head. My hand reached for my crotch. ‘Don’t do it….don’t…do it, you promised’. Those words, together with the naughty thoughts, filled my head. ‘A little touch won’t hurt’ I suddenly found myself thinking and my hand grabbed my semi- hard cock, pulling it out of my pants. I stroked it slowly, making it more hard but careful not to get too excited. If I didn’t cum, I didn’t break my promise, was what I was thinking. My cock was rock hard now and the lips where still ‘staring’ at me. I picked up the sex toy and brought it near the tip of my cock. Oh mannn…..seeing those lips, silicon or not, it drove me crazy, I needed a blow job so bad. ‘Don’t do it!’ I shouted inside my head ‘you know you wont be able to stop if you try it, don’t do it, you promised!’. But at the same time, my hand slowly pressed the mouth onto the tip, causing the lips to open and ‘suck in’ my hard cock. I closed my eyes and began lifting it up and down. ‘Ohhhhh…’ I moaned softly. It felt so good and at the same time, knowing that I was close to the point of no-turning-back, I felt worried and bad. Still my hand was pushing and pulling the silicon mouth, moving it up and down my cock, speeding it up. ‘ Ohhhh…’ I moaned again and my cock started to throb like crazy. Soon I knew it was too late, there was definitely no turning back. I moved it up and down faster and faster, breathing heavy, moaning and soon……’ ohhhhhhhhh yessss’ ….I came hard inside the mouth, filling it with my warm cum. Immediately after the climax, a feeling of shame and sorrow entered my whole body. ‘ASSHOLE’ I whispered to myself, ‘you cant even do ONE day, you ass, what is wrong with you?!’.

Regrets came instantly, causing a sick feeling in my stomach. I knew I had disappointed her big time, and for what? One stupid little cum? I knew I would have to face her and tell her what I had done. Not telling her or lying about it, was no option, it would make this thing we had totally meaningless and the shame would build up, making me feel even more horrible in time. Not only had I disappointed my Miss, I was disappointed in myself as well. Silly as it might sound, I had looked forward to building up my energy, my sexdrive, my excitement for the day she came back. Now, in just about 10 minutes I had already ruined that plan. I was so mad at myself for doing that and at the same time scared shit for the moment I would have to face and tell my Miss how I disappointed her. I felt stupid.
Lesson learned.

Cumming when you’re not allowed to cum, doesn’t give you pleasure, it gives you a stomach ache. Not being able to make your Miss proud, knowing you have disappointed her, not a good feeling. Being able to hold back just for her, to cum just for her, to really have her own your dick, your pleasure. Its what I want, its what I need and it for sure is what it will be like from this moment on. My cock is yours Miss, my pleasure is yours, I only cum…for you.
Time to hide my new toy…far, far away.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Journey of Submission Part V

Submitted by Nicolae Parx

He sat on the floor at her feet and simply listened to her talk so freely and easily about something that seemed so overpowering to him that he wanted to jump up and demand what was in his heart. The question burdening his soul was as simple as it was bottomless.

"Why hasn't anyone done this to me yet?"

The words in his heart could not yet find expression on his lips so he sat silently and pressed his torso against her legs is if that closeness would somehow bring answers to the raging uncertainty inside him. She talked simply and plainly about the most incredible journey he had ever experienced and the incongruity of her calm and instructive demeanor juxtaposed against his uncomprehending and childlike wonder almost frightened him more than he was afraid of his own body's passion.
She spoke clearly.
"There is even an ancient Chinese fashion called 'nip and nurture', which suggests an almost combative concept, to withhold your own orgasm, and promote your partner's, so you can vampire the energy for your own power and longevity."
It was the word 'vampire' that captured Nicolae's full attention and his head, already oddly invigorated as well as exhausted from his recent experience, caught the word and held it tightly in his brain. She had vampired him, he suddenly realized. She had sucked the energy out of him that rent his body with an explosion of immense proportions. Oddly, he wasn't tired. In fact, he felt like running around the block.
And she had done it without even touching him. That was the most incomprehensible part to him and it illuminated yet another unknown facet of her power that kept him both in awe and sitting at her feet, nestled against her legs. Like a sponge, Nicolae wanted what she could give him and teach him. For that matter, he seemed to be the student that Roxana longed for; the boy with whom she could share some of the mysteries that had been revealed for her. To be effective, education must be reciprocal and both Roxana and Nicolae were housed within a unique symbiosis of want and need.
She continued expounding a bit more philosophically.
"Extended orgasmic response appears to induce a highly pleasurable state of heightened mental activity. This sexual high is similar to a deep meditative state, with electrical brain activity moving in more synchronous patterns and shifted toward alpha and theta waves, with greater electrical activity in the right side of the brain. Deep relaxation and meditation produce similar brain-wave shifts and patterns. Subjectively, such states induce feelings of peacefulness and harmony and an altered sense of time. The oceanic mental state that extended orgasmic response induces appears to be similar to states described by religious believers who have had visions of God or universal oneness. This common meditative transformation may explain the associations frequently addressed in world literature between sexuality and spirituality."
Nicolae believed that whatever had just happened to him certainly fit that description and it astounded him that she could describe it in such physiological and spiritual terms at the same time. What he had just been through was certainly just as spiritual as it was sexual. The experience was nothing like anything he had ever survived before, and the newness of it was as astonishing to him as the experience itself.
Why hadn't anyone done this to him before? The words rang through his mind as his ears listened and his brain tried to absorb her words.
"And you know something?" she asked without expecting an answer. "To me, this is not so much a sexual experience, as it is a meditative one. My awareness is on physical sensation and energy flow, my mind is occupied with prayer and visualization of physical or spiritual goals."
Nicolae suddenly felt a cold wave wash over him as he tried to understand her comment. Wasn't she concentrating on him throughout what had to be one of the most profound phenomena that had ever invaded his body and mind? If anything was flowing, he snorted snidely but silently, it was his own passion. Wasn't this about him?
After all, Nicolae figured, truly, for a man to choose to serve his Lady is a very classical romantic gesture. When you think of men who choose to serve, you think of white knights on chargers, don't you? And they're all vowing, "To thee my Lady I pledge my troth, and I shall serve thee all my days." Isn't that how it worked? Wasn't he her knight, her protector, and her servant all wrapped up as one on that same lofty plane?
Reaching down to stroke his hair, Roxana felt his body's sudden tensing against her legs. "You don't understand yet," she affirmed his confusion and patted his hair. "But you will. Give it time, my sweet boy, and you will understand."
"Well," he started with trepidation, "I sort of saw myself as your Knight."
With his head buried in her legs, he couldn't see her smile but he felt her calm reassurance and snuggled in more closely.
Roxana's response was delivered with a grin.
"So if submissive men like you are noble knights on white chargers, pledging their power in support of their Ladies and children, I want you to keep in mind those same knights regularly beat the crap out of each other."
She couldn't help herself and began laughing softly. As her amusement increased, so did the vibration in her calves and soon Nicolae could do little but chuckle along with her. Learning about what Roxana called 'submission' was one challenge after another, but Nicolae remembered her initial rule delivered so long ago during their online chats.
"Have fun," she admonished him. "I demand that you have fun because I know that I will."

"The mystics would call it the yin and the yang," she continued instructively. "You can't have one without the other - but more importantly, you can't appreciate one without the other. That's the lesson of the Tao, as far as I'm concerned," Roxana concluded.
Nicolae thought quietly for a while before allowing the question she knew was buried yet burning inside him to rise to his lips.
"One what?" he almost exploded with curiosity. "You can't have one WHAT? You can't appreciate one WHAT?"
Nicolae would have worn his frustration on his sleeve if he had been wearing a shirt, but Roxana kept him unclothed while they were together. It was just her way and he didn't mind it at all. Feeling her skin against his own when she touched him was one of his joys.
She reached down and cuddled his head as she answered him softly. "Like light and darkness, the opposites are truly one, and they require each other to be understand each or both." Silent for a moment, Roxana stretched her arms down and held his shoulders in her strength as if to pour her power into him as a sort of pre-defense for what she was about to say.
"Unless we know pain and understand it, we cannot fully know pleasure."

His ears that were nestled snugly and comfortably against her calves, heard her words but their impact hadn't yet found target. Knowing Nicolae so well and recognizing that he had to arrive at his own perceptions without being forced there, Roxana sat silently and held him securely against her. His warm skin invigorated her and she could feel the power that was building in his brain. It would burst out of its own accord and she was willing to give him that time.
"Is that what you did to me?" he asked simply. And Roxana realized that he was finally beginning to understand.
"I'd rather show you," Roxana whispered softly while she gripped him more tightly. "We'll look into that … soon. Right now, I want you to get some rest."
Lifting his suddenly exhausted shoulders, Roxana forced him upright and led him toward the bedroom wing. Her arm, wrapped tightly around his thin waist, ushered him past the bedroom that had been his since his arrival and stopped him at the end of the hall.
"You'll sleep here tonight," she spoke deliberately.

When Nicolae lifted his face from its comfortable spot on her shoulder, he saw the door to what must have been her suite. Until now, it had been merely a door; a closed portal that led deeper into his mind's mystery. It had suddenly taken on a brand new meaning and held immeasurable possibility.
Yin and Yang
The down pillow under his head provided support that Nicolae hadn't realized he needed until he gave his body to the mattress's welcome buttress against his skin. Tired through his bones, Nicolae fell asleep almost instantly into a blissful repose that only the deserving and the exhausted are afforded. He had no idea how long he slept.
What woke him in the midst of total darkness wasn't the expected glint of warm sunshine rising over the ocean and peeking through a wispy white curtain. Instead, Nicolae was startled into awareness by the oddly distant feeling of something touching his chest. Unsure of its origin, he fought with his foggy mind to define the feeling.
Through the core of that fog, he heard a voice whispering in his ear.
"Yin and yang," he heard soothingly as the pressure on his chest increased slightly. "Pleasure and pain are the same," his ear drank the melodious tone. "One and the same," the voice continued as the pressure on his chest defined itself as a sharpness morphing to soft comfort.
Naked and warm under a down comforter, Nicolae struggled to focus on the voice, then on the feeling. His mind, still clouded by sleep, darted from one to the other and could not settle its attention on either. The soft voice in his ear momentarily took over his senses then his entire concentration swung to the growing intensity inflicted on his upper body by insistent fingers. As soon the soothing words penetrated his senses, twinges of pain worked their way from his chest into his growing consciousness.

He had no idea how long he laid there, shifting his attention from one sense to another, from hearing to feeling, or from comfort to aching soreness. Within indiscernible minutes or hours, Nicolae grew weary of differentiating the polar opposites that invaded his sleep. Rather than try to categorize the conflicting feelings, he closed his eyes and ordered his body simply to accept them and allow the emotions each to have its own time.
The voice was as encouraging as it was stern.
"Yin and yang," it repeated. "Feel all of it, feel it in your soul." Suddenly there was no voice as increasing levels of sharp pain danced across his skin. When he felt he would cry out in agony from its intensity, the voice began again.
"Don't struggle," it reassured him. "Breathe into me," it persuaded as the force exerted itself again across his aching nipples and chest. One after another, the voice interspersed itself with the pain and soon the two became a single energy that surrounded him like the down comforter warmed him like a loving cocoon against the evening's chill.
The complexity of the feelings drained his mind of its ability to sort out his surroundings. Nicolae found himself fighting to maintain any semblance of controlling his comprehension of what was going on around him and to him and he succumbed to the voice's passionate urging that he merely allow himself to feel and not think. The problem was that he didn't know how to do that.
The now-searing distress he felt when the fingers touched
him burned like fire on his skin and when he reached the apex of agony, the voice, as if it could read his mind as well as his tolerance level, joined the dance to create an eerie pas de deux that any stage would have been proud to produce. Shifting his concentration repeatedly, Nicolae's body began its own dance of pure animal reaction to the overwhelming sensations that he was experiencing.
His hips began to sway slightly in rhythm to the unyielding touch. As he drew his focus to that rhythm, the voice penetrated his ear and shook his concentration. Again and again, the voice and touch overtook each other and Nicolae's legs trembled as his emotional tension rose. Suddenly and surreptitiously, the insistent fingers increased their center of attention and incorporated more of his body in their merciless dance.
As suddenly as he realized the touch reach for his stomach, the voice generated new waves in his ear.
"Take what is given," he heard between his own gasps of cool night air. "Take all of it," the voice insisted and added, "Feel! Feel and don't think!"
Suddenly desperate to obey the command that seemed so simple and inviting, Nicolae tensed every muscle in his body in order to comply. Figuring that he could override his body's reaction by asserting physical strength, he exhorted his body to grow rigid and by doing so, end the shuddering and shaking that seemed to threaten his need to control his reactions, even though he was unable to decipher why that control seemed so important right now.
Complete control had always been a part of his life; it had become his defense against the turmoil life had thrown at him for three decades. He controlled his anger successfully when others would have launched an all-out assault, especially where his family was concerned, and shifted his attention to the greater good that he could find in the world around him. Of course, that anger would be expressed in other places and in other ways, but Nicolae was proud of his restraint and ability to inflict his anger on things that couldn't care about his explosions of rage.
He drove motorcycles fast and big trucks through the mountains. It satisfied his needs and prevented him from unduly haranguing his friends who were, unlike his family, the life support system on which he relied for sanity and focus. With a positive attitude to all the challenges that would have impeded lesser men, Nicolae saw each day as a contest and set out to win.
It was a decision that had saved his life on many occasions.
Yet his carefully honed sense of control was slipping from his fingers as he lay silently and struggled to allow what the voice demanded. "Take it all," it insisted. The dancer's body, now rigid with control, fought the voice's edict.
Conquering the day always implied winning and Nicolae wrestled with the idea of 'taking' rather than 'triumphing.' The incessantly intense sensations that danced across an increasing perimeter of his legs, arms and shoulders were juxtaposed by that welcome voice of assurance and calm. Their impact grew and grew until the sensation melded into the voice and the voice became the pain. Muscle after muscle tensed until every inch of Nicolae was involved fully in this extraordinary and new experience.
His mind threatened to explode and that loss of control terrified him.
The only thing separating Nicolae from dipping into the insanity he feared more than anything else was the unstoppable voice and steadfast touch that triggered him into what was now a full-body spasm of such intense proportions that his emotions were ragged. For the first time he could recall, he was not in control of his muscles. Had he tried, he could not have stood up or even sat.
Nicolae was as petrified as he was inexplicably calm.
"Let it go," the voice drilled into his brain. "Take it all," it insisted.
The contradiction seemed so clear yet unfathomable. Nicolae felt the soreness in his strained muscles threaten him almost as much as did his mind's inability to let go of his comforting self control. He didn't know how to let it go and take it all. There was nothing in his training or selfimposed upbringing that gave him the tools he needed to cope with this dichotomy of direction. Feeling the horrible anguish of being split apart by his own wanting and the voice's insisting demands, Nicolae's eyes dripped tears of exhaustion and loss.

He couldn't go on. There was no more strength inside him to struggle and no wisdom to tell him how to 'let it go' and 'take it all.' The sense of failure surrounded him and sucked him into its dismal grip.
The merciless fingers didn't care about his impending implosion; rather, they increased their target and now began separating his fingers as if to pull each one deliberately from his hand. They sought his neck and shoulders, his chest and stomach, his rock-solid legs and calves and moved steadfastly toward his ankles. A mass of tension and desperation, Nicolae battled with himself to hang on just a moment longer. There was no future, no light at the end of any tunnel and no goal in sight. All that confronted him was this single moment in time and his raw determination to hold on to his sanity for the instant.
It was at that sacred and scary moment that the fingers aimed for his feet.
Sharpness touched his toes and pitilessly and ruthlessly took their target. Unable to offer any defense, Nicolae felt the cold-blooded assault and knew instantaneously that no resistance would be offered. Spent and defeated, he could merely part his lips and offer the shrieks of agony that tore at his body and spirit. Howling uncontrollably, Nicolae screamed his passion from a raw throat as huge spasms shook his body and threatened to tear his soul apart.
His barrage was as incessant as it was unrefined or practiced. Over and over, he shrieked his agony into the cool night air and felt nothing but waves of exploding sensation propel from muscles that cried out from their stress. Unwilling and unable to find a shred of control within him, Nicolae's growls and shrieks filled the room with the sounds of pure crazed passion. His eyes exploded in tears as his chest ignited in gut-wrenching sobs.
He had never felt that level of exhaustion before. Yet his body would not compromise and continued in wave after wave of shuddering and shaking that was released from so deep inside him that Nicolae could not even name its source. Only incomprehensible grunts and intense shrieks emerged from his now hoarse throat yet Nicolae lacked the power to make them stop.
For this moment, he had no control.
After what seemed like an eternity of insanity, Nicolae felt this thoughts creep slowly back toward reality, although what comprised his reality was no longer clearly defined. Instead of any sense of confidence or assuredness, he felt emptiness fill the void that made up all he could feel. Ripped, torn and shredded, Nicolae fought to find himself, but the depth of barrenness inside his heart overpowered that effort.
He felt totally empty and scared to death.
"Hold onto me," the voice demanded anew.

With the final measure of strength he could manage, he rolled toward her and allowed Roxana to take his body - and his soul - in her arms. Nestling his head into her shoulder, he felt her pull the comforter over him and draw him even closer to her skin. The boundary between them disappeared for that time as Nicolae felt her powerful spirit surround his emptiness and hold it carefully while it healed.
Roxana's fingers caressed his wavy blond hair and she whispered into his ear.
"Your power," she began, "is mine. It's the gift you gave and the gift I took."
Her words washed over his ear and barely entered his brain. Too weary to concentrate, Nicolae lay immobile in her arms.
"Mine," she whispered offhandedly.

And he knew, for the first time in his life, that he had given himself to another person. And it felt very good.