To quote Bill Cosby, “I started out as a child.” Of course, we all did. I do not know how this is going to progress or come out, but this is a part of my story, where it all began. The only tease at the beginning is this: Every word is 100% the truth. This isn't fantasy. This is me. My earliest memories of a fetish nature go back to about the age of 8. I learned recently, that this is about when most people first know, though most don't really know what they know for years. I remember dreams, gender “wars,” capture or be captured. Of course, at that age, young and innocent, I did not know what any of it meant, cells, restraints, beautiful women, Wonder Woman's rope … Of course, the dreams did not go very far because I was too young to have a concept of what the different bodies were for... interesting, but in the end, empty.
So far, so good... on my way to growing up, older day by day, on the road to my future. I was raised in a very religious family, much to my everlasting regret. I was so proud to follow in my father's footsteps as an altar server in the local Roman Catholic parish. I spent five years doing that... while being molested by the local priest. I was always taught that a priest was God's representative on earth. Things didn't feel right, like him, face twisted by a stroke that left half his face and mouth paralyzed, leaning in to kiss me, or trying to climb into bed with me. But... how could a representative of God do something that was wrong, even if it didn't feel right.
Twenty years later it was explained to me. The contradiction, the confusion, was so overwhelming my mind shut down. It blocked the memories because they were beyond my ability to comprehend at that young age. Ah, how proud my parents were of the attention a priest was paying their son. This must be good. A Mistress I belonged to explained to me that as a defense, when overwhelmed, the mind will curl up in a fetal position for protection. She explained that when the danger passed, mine never got out of that fetal position. Thus, the depression that haunts me.
Anyway, memories buried, I continued to grow up, high school, the church became an uncomfortable place, though I didn't know why. It was easy to stop going, working late nights, I was able to schedule a later service than my parents and just not go... until they figured it out. It was a rough summer before college.
To get more on point, I left the Church, and over time left all religion. I went from the person thought most likely to be a priest, in school to abandoning all faith, all religion and spirituality. There is no Divine, only this mortal coil. One day I will shuffle it off, and for the first time since about the age of 10 or 12, I will find peace.
The summer before my Senior year in college, I was in the shower, it was August, and I had the radio going. New Flash! Father James Porter, two towns away, on trial for molesting children. Suddenly it all came back. Horror, shame, disgust, hate, swirling around... my knees buckled, tears. I spent hours talking to one friend, trying to cope. Even then, even years before when it was happening, I knew my parents wouldn't understand. I couldn't go to them, they would choose the Church over me. Sadly, I was right.
Junior year in college I started to explore my fetish side. My girlfriend got a set of handcuffs as a gag gift. The times were fun, though the relationship didn't last. She was insane. Another relationship, more experimenting, etc. Struggling with the memories, struggling with the pain, loss of innocence, exploring power, give and take. It was, and is, a need. Driven by desires I didn't understand while overwhelmed by memories of betrayal and hurt. I tied the two together. How could I enjoy these activities? Isn't it about love and tenderness? How could I enjoy playing with cuffs, floggers, paddles? I was in my thirties before I realized that my fetish desires were not a sickness. I wasn't twisted, dangerous, a predator because I enjoyed these things.
Oddly, it was the internet that saved me. I was in a one dimensional chat environment where I first was able to meet and interact with people with the same needs, wants and desires that I had... I wasn't sick. I was normal, just a little different. At that point, it was still a struggle, but there was hope...I would be able to learn, grow, find my way. At the same time, more self hate. Then, I identified more as sub than slave. I kept seeing things I thought were “extreme,” things I couldn't comprehend wanting or needing. Things I couldn't understand anyone else needing or wanting, “I could never do that...” I was proven wrong over and over and over again. It is amazing what one can do for someone they love.
At the same time, I needed submission, I hated it, and hated me. Why would anyone CHOOSE to be submissive? Why would anyone want, need, desire to be treated that way? Why would I want to feel a flogger, to be made to kneel, dragged, collared on a leash, address someone as “Mistress,” acknowledging an inferior position, let alone comprehend this fascination Dommes have with chastity belts and strap-ons. And yet, one by one, each limit, each protestation, gradually gave way to acceptance, then need.
In time I married. We moved into a new condo in November, and the phone call from my father. “A lot of people have done a lot of nice things for you recently. If you want to make your mother happier than any gift, come to Midnight Mass with us.” Don't you love an elegant guilt trip? At the time I hadn't set foot in a church in over a decade. My parents didn't know what had happened. They just knew I didn't go. I talked to my wife, a Hindu. She offered to go if it would get me out of it. I waited a couple of days, called my father from the road, asked if he could meet me for lunch, I really needed to talk. He couldn't. He was setting up cameras to record the holiday services. So, I spilled the story of the abuse, crying, in a break down lane, on a cell phone. I guess the lane was for more than cars breaking down that day. It was another knife, too. I was falling apart, told him because I was guilted into a corner... My parents chose the Church before me. I was betrayed again and the Church won, again.
For the first time in my life he agreed not to tell my mother something until I gave permission. I wasn't ready.
Then it happened. I was working, selling on a route. I was in an account, and there, the newspaper rack. That twisted face, I hoped I would never see again. He had been outed. A family shattered. A man told his family what happened to him at the hands of this priest a decade before me, at which point his two younger brothers told him they had the same experiences. The parents thought he was a great family friend and had named their youngest son after him. I still get shivers thinking about that family. I fell apart. I called my boss, told him and went home. I called my father and told him he could tell my mother. Life has never been the same.
The next morning my father was, as is his wont, at Mass at 7AM. The pastor mentioned the story and told the congregation that he had no information but that the Archdiocese had asked him to collect information. My father went and told him my story. My parents chose the Church before me. I was betrayed again and the Church won, again.
My mother responded, by calling a former priest from the parish who was/is still a good family friend and told him my story. My parents chose the Church before me. I was betrayed again and the Church won, again.
A few weeks later my parents wanted to talk to me about what had happened. They came to my place. My wife, in the next room, support, but giving me space. Then came the question, my mother asked, “I don't understand why you didn't tell us when it happened.” I answered, “because at the time I couldn't understand or comprehend it myself. When I was finally able to, I didn't, because I knew you wouldn't believe me. When it started to become public, I knew you would choose the Church first.” My mother, of course, denied this, they would support me completely, I was their son. I asked, “Then why is it when you both became aware of what happened to me, the first thing each of you did was talk to a priest?” She said, “But the Church has a right to know.” My parents chose the Church before me. I was betrayed again and the Church won, again. I went off and explained to her that the Church was the perpetrator, I was the victim, their son. The Church should not have found out except on my terms, through my chosen representative, on my time.
All those years before, when I realized I couldn't go to my parents. I hoped I was wrong. I wasn't. I was right. For all eternity, I was right.
In time I learned to reconcile the pain, though I have not gotten past the depression. I learned, in time, through pain, to embrace my submission. The best Mistress I ever had taught me that when I give of myself, if I hate what I am giving it loses value. It means also that I hate what I am receiving, the Dominance, the gift of my Owner. That was a slap, but right on target. I soon learned to embrace who I am. I learned that I can give of myself to a depth and level I never could have comprehended. I learned that submission requires incredible strength and isn't for the weak. The weak become doormats, open to be abused. I learned to submit to One, not to a society. I learned that even as a submissive I have the right to respect, courtesy, to be loved, treasured. I learned that I have the right to love myself for who I am. I learned there is dignity in submission, in giving wholly of oneself to one who loves you equally and gives deeply of themselves to you. I learned to accept that I am who I am, and though a life I would not have originally chosen, can be a fulfilling vocation.
A life of struggle. Maybe now I can find my peace, find the life I want to live. Maybe now I can move forward, bury the ghosts of my past and find a future that is worth living.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
The Kiss - Alexith
The smoke of his cigarette curled about his defined features, making his skin seem even more pale in the weak late afternoon sun that slanted through her window. She suddenly saw how gaunt he was; how much weight had fallen from his bones since last she had seen him, less than six months earlier.
“You’re too thin” she murmered
He nodded imperceptibly, exhaling another undulating white cloud of smoke into the wan sunbeam illuminating his face.
He was so still. Like porcelain the light seemed to almost shine through his waxen skin. She cast her mind back to the beaming handsome faces of the young men in their impeccable uniforms. Had it only been six months ago? They had stood shoulder to shoulder posing for a photograph, camaraderie and boldness written across their youthful features. She had found each of these boys suddenly transformed into soldiers impossibly handsome back then. Gleaming and immortal as their eyes sought out, and soaked in, the admiration of the young women gathered around.
She knew that three of those same boys, whom she had gone to school with, were now gone. The waste was too much to contemplate.
They sat together in the near silence of that slow Sunday afternoon, the smoke of their combined cigarettes mingling in the air between them. She knew this afternoon was a precious solace for this strangely still man, home on leave from a protracted, horrific war. A short while ago he had been surrounded with death and chaos, and yet here he was, thin and haunted, but clean and safe, at least for now.
He would only have these quiet safe moments for a few more precious hours, and then... then he would return to the horror from which he came, perhaps never to return. The weight; the sheer significance of each quiet second suddenly pressed in on her and she turned to him, determined to finally break their silence, if only to still her own sense of urgency.
“Why are you here?” her abrupt question hung in the air.
She smiled trying to bring lightness to her question; to speak the line flippantly and humorously as they used to speak before the world turned upside down, but this question was all, and they both knew it. The moment had come for declarations.
He turned to face her, and in his eyes she saw that same tenderness and hesitation that had always been there, for her.
“I wanted to see.... You”. He spoke it softly, but with a certainty that quickened her breath.
She had always seen him. Back then, before the horrors, he had been much quicker to smile, and the girls had flocked to him as his face and frame found the solidity and hardness of manhood. But this boy had always held himself apart. She had watched him from afar and observed the way in which he politely but firmly refused all advances. It had puzzled her at the time, true, but... somehow she had always known that he had set himself apart.... for Her.
She had read that in the ardour of his eyes, and in the flicker of a flame of jealousy that flashed across them when she had accepted the boisterous advances of other boys. It seemed like aeons ago to her. Somehow it had never seemed right, to ... cross that line and transform that pure flame in his eyes to physical touches; to shared ragged breathing in the night. Somehow that pure flame in his eyes had been all that she had desired of him.... at the time. The truth be known she had loved the heat she knew that only she could bring to his usually reserved and controlled demeanour. That flame had been hers, and hers alone. Such sweet intoxicating power she had over him.
Their eyes locked, the cigarette smoke swirling between them in the small room, and again silence fell, as the true meaning of his words, so quiet and yet so full of forlorn burning desire swept over her. After all the hell that had happened, he still wanted her. He still worshipped her.
His hands trembled as he extinguished his cigarette, and suddenly he leant forward in his chair, facing her. Desperation shone in his beautiful eyes. She felt her own heart quicken, and a deep throbbing energy begin in her sex as this handsome soldier slowly slipped off the chair to his knees, straightened his back and leaned in close to her. Their faces were now inches apart.
“It’s always been You” he whispered raggedly. She felt the words caress across her face, and in that whispered moment of painful longing revelation she knew all that she needed to know of the hell he had faced in this horrid war. She knew that his comfort and dream had been of her as day by day he stared death in the face. She knew that he had dreamed of her, desired her, and that he had stayed alive ... in the hope of seeing her.
She saw his pain and tormented desire, and somehow suddenly all became clear. She owned this boy, turned man, turned soldier.
Slowly she rose from her chair, and took a small step forward. She now towered over him as he knelt, transfixed. She watched, a small powerful knowing smile curling at the corner of her lips. Her heart raced as she felt his gaze, so full of fire, roam from her ankles, up to her thighs, to her sex. She watched as his eyes lingered over her skirt, his breathing quickening. She reached down, cupped his chin and inclined his head so that their eyes once again met.
With just a trace of a smile, She appraised his face and the line of solid musculature beneath his uniform. Such strength and force this man possessed and it was Hers. She owned this man. Slowly she moved her hands down to the hem of her skirt, her eyes still locked on his. Slowly she lifted the skirt inch by inch over her legs. The fabric whispered over her stockings, and her skin tingled.
She watched, bewitched by her own power. He was shaking, and she gasped a little as she heard him groan. He inched forward on his knees, looked up at Her and whispered the word “please”. The desperation in the word made her weak at the knees. So very slowly now she slid her skirt up over her thighs, inch by inch, to finally reveal her cotton panties. Slowly she slid them down, sighing a little as she felt the fabric pull away, and again she stood over him, her sex owning him. Conquering him.
“Oh god”, he gasped, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he leant forward, his lips only inches away from that part of Her he coveted, that he had dreamt of through so many nights. “oh god please” he repeated, his voice trembling.
The moment possessed her. Her power intoxicating, she felt a low throbbing ache inside her. She snaked her hands in his hair, and drew his raggedly breathing mouth just inches away from her swollen lips.
“Beg to taste me” She whispered in the still room, no other sound to be heard but the slow ticking of the wall clock. “Beg me”.
She watched his jaw clench as he struggled. She watched him hesitate on the brink of what she suddenly knew was a vast cavern of unrequited longing, and desperation to serve. She watched and saw the precise moment where the pride and reserve of this soldier at her feet suddenly crumbled away, and all that remained was the desperate boy who had watched Her and craved Her from afar, all those years ago. He groaned a deep guttural growl and leaned in so that his lips grazed against the soft downy hair of her sex. His voice deep, and hoarse, his breath tickling over her lips.
“Please... i beg You... this is all i have lived for.”, he rasped and she felt a great trembling sob seize him as he begged and begged, his lips mere inches from his destiny, his dream.
Tears now flowed freely from him and shone on his face as he looked up at her, a conquered soldier on his knees begging her for the chance to finally touch his lips to her sex and commit his soul to the most worshipping kiss a man can give to a woman. A kiss that cheated death. A kiss that would sustain him when he returned to a place of horror. This is all i have lived for. The sheer force of that statement reverberated through the room, as the cold winter sunlight danced in the air between them.
Slowly she stepped forward, her thighs parting a little. She was his goddess. She was his past, present and future. She was this desperate tortured soldier’s dream. She took a deep breath. “You may”.
He groaned, and cried out and She felt his enraptured embrace about her waist as finally his mouth, his tongue, his lips pressed in desperate ardour to her sex. Shaking and sobbing against Her soft flesh she felt his tongue for the first time part her lips and moved gratefully and worshipfully inside her. All his long years of longing and desire were suffused into that act of desperate love and submission.
He groannnned a deep male sound that was the most exquisitely desperate and desiring sound she had heard in her life. This was the first kiss of this kind she had ever been given, and its passion obliterated anything that had ever been before and any kiss that she would ever receive again.
She arched her back as all went dark, and she pressed forward into the exquisite pleasure of the tongue moving inside Her. Her fingers clawed in his hair desperately as he groaned again and she felt it, as a deep low vibration inside Her.
She felt his soul in that most passionate and worshipping of kisses, and she knew that for this boy-turned-soldier, who had once grinned for the camera so dashingly and naively before all the horrors of this war began, this kiss and moment of bliss was a magic that could cheat death.
She felt the deepest, truest pleasure she had ever known as she ground down on his tongue and rode his face, her hips with a life of their own as she took her pleasure. She rode the storm of his desperation, taking his sobs, and trembling ardour deep into her sex. Riding it. Transforming it. She fucked the storm of his need, and it became her own storm. She gasped and clawed into his hair one last time and viciously demanded every ounce of him.
She screamed as the world collapsed around her, her body shaking with uncontrollable pleasure as she collapsed forward over him. She smothered his last wracking sobs with her sex as she fucked his tongue to completion, her juices and his tears running down her thighs. The storm had passed. The world had changed forever, for both of them.
Slowly the room returned into focus. A pale soldier on his knees, his face glistening, gazed up at a woman. They stayed this way a long time. They lay together right there on the floor, locked in an embrace.
Time passed, and the winter sun turned ashen, and then the room was in darkness.
“When do you leave?” she whispered into her boy’s ear.
“Tomorrow morning” he whispered back, a sudden leadenness returning to his voice.
Silence fell between them and in the distance she heard sirens. She cradled his head to her and pressed the warmth of her body to his.
Finally she spoke again. “I have one command for You as you go back to that horrible war”.
Imperceptibly he nodded. He was listening.
“Don’t die. Come back to me”.
A long silence followed as she held him close and again he nodded.
“Yes, my Goddess”, he whispered.
They fell asleep in each others arms.
The next morning, the dashing soldier embraced his Mistress and left again to fight in a horrible senseless war. He smiled as he left, that familiar fire burning deep in his handsome eyes.
“I’ll return, Goddess” he had whispered in her ear as the transport waited on the road behind him.
But he didn’t.
“You’re too thin” she murmered
He nodded imperceptibly, exhaling another undulating white cloud of smoke into the wan sunbeam illuminating his face.
He was so still. Like porcelain the light seemed to almost shine through his waxen skin. She cast her mind back to the beaming handsome faces of the young men in their impeccable uniforms. Had it only been six months ago? They had stood shoulder to shoulder posing for a photograph, camaraderie and boldness written across their youthful features. She had found each of these boys suddenly transformed into soldiers impossibly handsome back then. Gleaming and immortal as their eyes sought out, and soaked in, the admiration of the young women gathered around.
She knew that three of those same boys, whom she had gone to school with, were now gone. The waste was too much to contemplate.
They sat together in the near silence of that slow Sunday afternoon, the smoke of their combined cigarettes mingling in the air between them. She knew this afternoon was a precious solace for this strangely still man, home on leave from a protracted, horrific war. A short while ago he had been surrounded with death and chaos, and yet here he was, thin and haunted, but clean and safe, at least for now.
He would only have these quiet safe moments for a few more precious hours, and then... then he would return to the horror from which he came, perhaps never to return. The weight; the sheer significance of each quiet second suddenly pressed in on her and she turned to him, determined to finally break their silence, if only to still her own sense of urgency.
“Why are you here?” her abrupt question hung in the air.
She smiled trying to bring lightness to her question; to speak the line flippantly and humorously as they used to speak before the world turned upside down, but this question was all, and they both knew it. The moment had come for declarations.
He turned to face her, and in his eyes she saw that same tenderness and hesitation that had always been there, for her.
“I wanted to see.... You”. He spoke it softly, but with a certainty that quickened her breath.
She had always seen him. Back then, before the horrors, he had been much quicker to smile, and the girls had flocked to him as his face and frame found the solidity and hardness of manhood. But this boy had always held himself apart. She had watched him from afar and observed the way in which he politely but firmly refused all advances. It had puzzled her at the time, true, but... somehow she had always known that he had set himself apart.... for Her.
She had read that in the ardour of his eyes, and in the flicker of a flame of jealousy that flashed across them when she had accepted the boisterous advances of other boys. It seemed like aeons ago to her. Somehow it had never seemed right, to ... cross that line and transform that pure flame in his eyes to physical touches; to shared ragged breathing in the night. Somehow that pure flame in his eyes had been all that she had desired of him.... at the time. The truth be known she had loved the heat she knew that only she could bring to his usually reserved and controlled demeanour. That flame had been hers, and hers alone. Such sweet intoxicating power she had over him.
Their eyes locked, the cigarette smoke swirling between them in the small room, and again silence fell, as the true meaning of his words, so quiet and yet so full of forlorn burning desire swept over her. After all the hell that had happened, he still wanted her. He still worshipped her.
His hands trembled as he extinguished his cigarette, and suddenly he leant forward in his chair, facing her. Desperation shone in his beautiful eyes. She felt her own heart quicken, and a deep throbbing energy begin in her sex as this handsome soldier slowly slipped off the chair to his knees, straightened his back and leaned in close to her. Their faces were now inches apart.
“It’s always been You” he whispered raggedly. She felt the words caress across her face, and in that whispered moment of painful longing revelation she knew all that she needed to know of the hell he had faced in this horrid war. She knew that his comfort and dream had been of her as day by day he stared death in the face. She knew that he had dreamed of her, desired her, and that he had stayed alive ... in the hope of seeing her.
She saw his pain and tormented desire, and somehow suddenly all became clear. She owned this boy, turned man, turned soldier.
Slowly she rose from her chair, and took a small step forward. She now towered over him as he knelt, transfixed. She watched, a small powerful knowing smile curling at the corner of her lips. Her heart raced as she felt his gaze, so full of fire, roam from her ankles, up to her thighs, to her sex. She watched as his eyes lingered over her skirt, his breathing quickening. She reached down, cupped his chin and inclined his head so that their eyes once again met.
With just a trace of a smile, She appraised his face and the line of solid musculature beneath his uniform. Such strength and force this man possessed and it was Hers. She owned this man. Slowly she moved her hands down to the hem of her skirt, her eyes still locked on his. Slowly she lifted the skirt inch by inch over her legs. The fabric whispered over her stockings, and her skin tingled.
She watched, bewitched by her own power. He was shaking, and she gasped a little as she heard him groan. He inched forward on his knees, looked up at Her and whispered the word “please”. The desperation in the word made her weak at the knees. So very slowly now she slid her skirt up over her thighs, inch by inch, to finally reveal her cotton panties. Slowly she slid them down, sighing a little as she felt the fabric pull away, and again she stood over him, her sex owning him. Conquering him.
“Oh god”, he gasped, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he leant forward, his lips only inches away from that part of Her he coveted, that he had dreamt of through so many nights. “oh god please” he repeated, his voice trembling.
The moment possessed her. Her power intoxicating, she felt a low throbbing ache inside her. She snaked her hands in his hair, and drew his raggedly breathing mouth just inches away from her swollen lips.
“Beg to taste me” She whispered in the still room, no other sound to be heard but the slow ticking of the wall clock. “Beg me”.
She watched his jaw clench as he struggled. She watched him hesitate on the brink of what she suddenly knew was a vast cavern of unrequited longing, and desperation to serve. She watched and saw the precise moment where the pride and reserve of this soldier at her feet suddenly crumbled away, and all that remained was the desperate boy who had watched Her and craved Her from afar, all those years ago. He groaned a deep guttural growl and leaned in so that his lips grazed against the soft downy hair of her sex. His voice deep, and hoarse, his breath tickling over her lips.
“Please... i beg You... this is all i have lived for.”, he rasped and she felt a great trembling sob seize him as he begged and begged, his lips mere inches from his destiny, his dream.
Tears now flowed freely from him and shone on his face as he looked up at her, a conquered soldier on his knees begging her for the chance to finally touch his lips to her sex and commit his soul to the most worshipping kiss a man can give to a woman. A kiss that cheated death. A kiss that would sustain him when he returned to a place of horror. This is all i have lived for. The sheer force of that statement reverberated through the room, as the cold winter sunlight danced in the air between them.
Slowly she stepped forward, her thighs parting a little. She was his goddess. She was his past, present and future. She was this desperate tortured soldier’s dream. She took a deep breath. “You may”.
He groaned, and cried out and She felt his enraptured embrace about her waist as finally his mouth, his tongue, his lips pressed in desperate ardour to her sex. Shaking and sobbing against Her soft flesh she felt his tongue for the first time part her lips and moved gratefully and worshipfully inside her. All his long years of longing and desire were suffused into that act of desperate love and submission.
He groannnned a deep male sound that was the most exquisitely desperate and desiring sound she had heard in her life. This was the first kiss of this kind she had ever been given, and its passion obliterated anything that had ever been before and any kiss that she would ever receive again.
She arched her back as all went dark, and she pressed forward into the exquisite pleasure of the tongue moving inside Her. Her fingers clawed in his hair desperately as he groaned again and she felt it, as a deep low vibration inside Her.
She felt his soul in that most passionate and worshipping of kisses, and she knew that for this boy-turned-soldier, who had once grinned for the camera so dashingly and naively before all the horrors of this war began, this kiss and moment of bliss was a magic that could cheat death.
She felt the deepest, truest pleasure she had ever known as she ground down on his tongue and rode his face, her hips with a life of their own as she took her pleasure. She rode the storm of his desperation, taking his sobs, and trembling ardour deep into her sex. Riding it. Transforming it. She fucked the storm of his need, and it became her own storm. She gasped and clawed into his hair one last time and viciously demanded every ounce of him.
She screamed as the world collapsed around her, her body shaking with uncontrollable pleasure as she collapsed forward over him. She smothered his last wracking sobs with her sex as she fucked his tongue to completion, her juices and his tears running down her thighs. The storm had passed. The world had changed forever, for both of them.
Slowly the room returned into focus. A pale soldier on his knees, his face glistening, gazed up at a woman. They stayed this way a long time. They lay together right there on the floor, locked in an embrace.
Time passed, and the winter sun turned ashen, and then the room was in darkness.
“When do you leave?” she whispered into her boy’s ear.
“Tomorrow morning” he whispered back, a sudden leadenness returning to his voice.
Silence fell between them and in the distance she heard sirens. She cradled his head to her and pressed the warmth of her body to his.
Finally she spoke again. “I have one command for You as you go back to that horrible war”.
Imperceptibly he nodded. He was listening.
“Don’t die. Come back to me”.
A long silence followed as she held him close and again he nodded.
“Yes, my Goddess”, he whispered.
They fell asleep in each others arms.
The next morning, the dashing soldier embraced his Mistress and left again to fight in a horrible senseless war. He smiled as he left, that familiar fire burning deep in his handsome eyes.
“I’ll return, Goddess” he had whispered in her ear as the transport waited on the road behind him.
But he didn’t.
The Headless Tiny Part 2 - Eroyan
He spoke of an evil in the woods something he thought would never bother us. It kept to it-self and though Henry heard it move around his home some evenings the offerings he left for it seemed to appease it. Something about being small yet powerful and that George must have offended it somehow. That we should go now before we offended it that we could not protect ourselves from this horror. At that he picked up his axe and began to head home. We all stared dumbly as he walked back down the gully. The Sheriff said he had, had enough of this voodoo nonsense that it was a villain that we had to catch before he possibly killed again. Most of us took courage in his words and continued on with him deeper into the woods. Though I did turn back and watch Big Henry just disappear out of sight thinking what could scare such a large man like him. I turned and caught up to the others but in hindsight I should have looked down. What Big Henry saw was at my feet and couldn’t be seen in the light of Bill’s lantern. As I ran to catch up with the others the faint greenish glow of a tiny hoof print faded behind me.
The night grew darker and the wind more chill as we moved through the woods. The night sounds making us nervous till we finally stopped and decided we should go back and resume again in the daylight. That’s when we heard it a low whispering on the wind as if a voice was nearby. Steeled with the thought we had found George’s murderer we headed toward the sound. Our way was barred by a dense thicket and thou we were fearful of trying to enter the voice drifted from inside and we knew we must. As carefully as we could we crept into the thicket doing our best not to cry out as our skin was scraped or curse as our clothing caught. Finally we broke through.
The moon light shown bright in the small clearing we entered. The ground was covered in a thin mist that seemed to swirl as we stepped carefully through it. We readied ourselves for as soon as we entered the clearing the voice stopped. It was quiet very quiet, no sound seemed to enter this area or escape all we heard was our own breathing and beating hearts. Carefully we moved around searching for were the villain was hiding. Moving around the small mound in the middle and arriving grouped together on the other side. None of us had seen anything but the thicket around us and the small mound in the middle of the mist.
Nervousness grew on me and I felt we should leave. I said as much but the others would have none of it they had heard the voice the fact it stopped when we entered had to mean the villain was here. I whispered desperately as I looked at the small mound in the mist, uneasy growing on me more and more and the words of Big Henry haunted my mind. I begged them not to go closer to it to turn and leave with me. But closer they went as I was torn between fear and my people, and stood stock still holding my pistol tightly watching them. The Sheriff and Justin leveled their rifles as Bill had found something. My Skin began to crawl and fear leapt into my throat preventing me from crying out. Bill leaned down and shown his lantern onto the mound reaching out.
The mound erupted into mist and dust as if something was waiting for him just under the surface. I could only watch as an unholy laughter filled my ears. I heard the muted gunfire of the Sheriff and Justin as Bill screamed. It leapt from the ground as easily as a fish jumps from water. Black as night and eyes burning red hellfire crawled along its body as the mount snorted more mist into the clearing. The thing on its back was laughing as it landed and turned its hellish mount around toward the three near the mound. Its body glowed ghostly in the moonlight and I could see the cape swirl about it. Its hands gripped the reins of its beast tightly and it decaying boots kicked its flanks spurring the beast towards my friends.
I tried to raise my pistol but fear had its tight grip upon me and I could not move. The thing had no head save a pumpkin that burned from inside with hell fire. It moved and grimaced evilly at my friends as it bore down on them. The Sheriff and Justin fired again as Bill stumbled away from the horror dropping his lantern. I could have sworn they had hit it but it just laughed that cursed laugh as it road toward them. Suddenly from thin air it seemed to produce another pumpkin flickering with greenish hellfire and the mist recoiled from the hooves of its beast. I could see the tiny flames on the ground where it rode. The Sheriff ducked in time but Justin,, Oh Gods poor Justin didn’t see it coming! The thing threw its creation and hit Justin on the head and ….my god his head just popped off. Just right off and vanished in an inferno of hellfire. That’s when I did scream finally my fear finding my voice as Justin’s body crumpled to the ground.
Bill was already tearing through the thicket and I didn’t wait either. I sprinted into the thicket tearing my clothing and my skin but I didn’t care. I had to get away from that god forsaken laughter. I heard the Sheriff fire again and then to my horror heard him scream as I burst out into the woods from the thicket. Bill was just ahead as I took off behind him. We both ran as if the devil himself was behind us and for all we knew it was the devil. Gasping for breath I caught up to Bill who was holding onto a tree and panting as well. Silently we looked back praying that the horror could not leave the thicket.
From the darkness it arouse like a demon from hell. One moment it was empty dark forest the next there it was that cursed head glaring at us both. I turned to run and felt a hard blow to my head. Dazed I saw Bill run for it dropping his club. I fell and heard him yelling to take me not him. I heard the hoof beats of the beast draw close. I raised my head watching the burning eyes of both beast and rider bearing down on me. Crying out I raised my pistol to futile defend my life.
Just as my finger tightened on the trigger the horror leapt over me and ran down Bill. I don’t know what happened to Bill I just know I could hear his screaming. I shivered and couldn’t move again I hugged the ground and panted as I felt like my heart would burst from my chest. I lay there for what seemed like eternity smelling the damp earth listening to the chill wind and watching the shadows dance. Finally I got up and made my way toward town. I jumped at each twig breaking as each odd light that shown in the woods. I could barely breathe for the fear that still gripped me. It did not relax till I finally saw the lights of the church through the trees. With praising to almighty God I moved as fast as I could into the field just beyond the edge of the woods and to my horror let out a small croak as I stopped in my tracks.
It sat astride its nightmarish beast and looked at me as if a hunter that studies its prey might do. It said no sound no laugh just looked at me. I could not raise my pistol for I could not move just looked down at this thing. It recollection it was no higher beast and all than my knee. But it put such fear in me I don’t think an army could have stopped it. It moved closer and I tried not to scream till it got so close I could feel the cold chill of its hellfire. It looked up at me and looked into my eyes, it felt as if the horror was going to swallow my soul. Then from the darkness from the pit of hell itself I heard it speak.
“I have enough heads tonight.”
Then it turned and rode off back to its hellish home. A final horrifying laugh of the horror and beast ringing in my ears, I fainted and was found the next day there bleeding dirty and alone. They never found Bill or Justin or the Sheriff. They couldn’t find the thicket or the mound I told them about. Big Henry would never say if he knew where this horror lived or not. But he is the only one that will still speak to me from the town. Everyone else thinks I’m crazy but I know better. I know a night will come sometime in October with it will return. When some fool will make it angry and it will ride again.
“Beware! Beware!” I will shout, “For the Headless Tiny Rides Tonight!”
The night grew darker and the wind more chill as we moved through the woods. The night sounds making us nervous till we finally stopped and decided we should go back and resume again in the daylight. That’s when we heard it a low whispering on the wind as if a voice was nearby. Steeled with the thought we had found George’s murderer we headed toward the sound. Our way was barred by a dense thicket and thou we were fearful of trying to enter the voice drifted from inside and we knew we must. As carefully as we could we crept into the thicket doing our best not to cry out as our skin was scraped or curse as our clothing caught. Finally we broke through.
The moon light shown bright in the small clearing we entered. The ground was covered in a thin mist that seemed to swirl as we stepped carefully through it. We readied ourselves for as soon as we entered the clearing the voice stopped. It was quiet very quiet, no sound seemed to enter this area or escape all we heard was our own breathing and beating hearts. Carefully we moved around searching for were the villain was hiding. Moving around the small mound in the middle and arriving grouped together on the other side. None of us had seen anything but the thicket around us and the small mound in the middle of the mist.
Nervousness grew on me and I felt we should leave. I said as much but the others would have none of it they had heard the voice the fact it stopped when we entered had to mean the villain was here. I whispered desperately as I looked at the small mound in the mist, uneasy growing on me more and more and the words of Big Henry haunted my mind. I begged them not to go closer to it to turn and leave with me. But closer they went as I was torn between fear and my people, and stood stock still holding my pistol tightly watching them. The Sheriff and Justin leveled their rifles as Bill had found something. My Skin began to crawl and fear leapt into my throat preventing me from crying out. Bill leaned down and shown his lantern onto the mound reaching out.
The mound erupted into mist and dust as if something was waiting for him just under the surface. I could only watch as an unholy laughter filled my ears. I heard the muted gunfire of the Sheriff and Justin as Bill screamed. It leapt from the ground as easily as a fish jumps from water. Black as night and eyes burning red hellfire crawled along its body as the mount snorted more mist into the clearing. The thing on its back was laughing as it landed and turned its hellish mount around toward the three near the mound. Its body glowed ghostly in the moonlight and I could see the cape swirl about it. Its hands gripped the reins of its beast tightly and it decaying boots kicked its flanks spurring the beast towards my friends.
I tried to raise my pistol but fear had its tight grip upon me and I could not move. The thing had no head save a pumpkin that burned from inside with hell fire. It moved and grimaced evilly at my friends as it bore down on them. The Sheriff and Justin fired again as Bill stumbled away from the horror dropping his lantern. I could have sworn they had hit it but it just laughed that cursed laugh as it road toward them. Suddenly from thin air it seemed to produce another pumpkin flickering with greenish hellfire and the mist recoiled from the hooves of its beast. I could see the tiny flames on the ground where it rode. The Sheriff ducked in time but Justin,, Oh Gods poor Justin didn’t see it coming! The thing threw its creation and hit Justin on the head and ….my god his head just popped off. Just right off and vanished in an inferno of hellfire. That’s when I did scream finally my fear finding my voice as Justin’s body crumpled to the ground.
Bill was already tearing through the thicket and I didn’t wait either. I sprinted into the thicket tearing my clothing and my skin but I didn’t care. I had to get away from that god forsaken laughter. I heard the Sheriff fire again and then to my horror heard him scream as I burst out into the woods from the thicket. Bill was just ahead as I took off behind him. We both ran as if the devil himself was behind us and for all we knew it was the devil. Gasping for breath I caught up to Bill who was holding onto a tree and panting as well. Silently we looked back praying that the horror could not leave the thicket.
From the darkness it arouse like a demon from hell. One moment it was empty dark forest the next there it was that cursed head glaring at us both. I turned to run and felt a hard blow to my head. Dazed I saw Bill run for it dropping his club. I fell and heard him yelling to take me not him. I heard the hoof beats of the beast draw close. I raised my head watching the burning eyes of both beast and rider bearing down on me. Crying out I raised my pistol to futile defend my life.
Just as my finger tightened on the trigger the horror leapt over me and ran down Bill. I don’t know what happened to Bill I just know I could hear his screaming. I shivered and couldn’t move again I hugged the ground and panted as I felt like my heart would burst from my chest. I lay there for what seemed like eternity smelling the damp earth listening to the chill wind and watching the shadows dance. Finally I got up and made my way toward town. I jumped at each twig breaking as each odd light that shown in the woods. I could barely breathe for the fear that still gripped me. It did not relax till I finally saw the lights of the church through the trees. With praising to almighty God I moved as fast as I could into the field just beyond the edge of the woods and to my horror let out a small croak as I stopped in my tracks.
It sat astride its nightmarish beast and looked at me as if a hunter that studies its prey might do. It said no sound no laugh just looked at me. I could not raise my pistol for I could not move just looked down at this thing. It recollection it was no higher beast and all than my knee. But it put such fear in me I don’t think an army could have stopped it. It moved closer and I tried not to scream till it got so close I could feel the cold chill of its hellfire. It looked up at me and looked into my eyes, it felt as if the horror was going to swallow my soul. Then from the darkness from the pit of hell itself I heard it speak.
“I have enough heads tonight.”
Then it turned and rode off back to its hellish home. A final horrifying laugh of the horror and beast ringing in my ears, I fainted and was found the next day there bleeding dirty and alone. They never found Bill or Justin or the Sheriff. They couldn’t find the thicket or the mound I told them about. Big Henry would never say if he knew where this horror lived or not. But he is the only one that will still speak to me from the town. Everyone else thinks I’m crazy but I know better. I know a night will come sometime in October with it will return. When some fool will make it angry and it will ride again.
“Beware! Beware!” I will shout, “For the Headless Tiny Rides Tonight!”
We're All Sisters at Dominion - anonymous
A Dominion Lady and her Domme Sister
The day started as a normal day for me, a day of SL shopping planned with my Dominion femdom sister, she had alot of places she intended to take me.
To my surprise, our day of shopping and site seeing wasnt as it usually had been, you know, gowns, sexy little numbers... jewelry,shoes and hair.. nooo today was far more than that. Our first stop was at an art gallery, a bondage gallery, very interesting. and to be honest, I could feel myself warming. My sister is always a very "touchy" woman, so when she caressed my arm, I thought nothing of it. Our second stop was to a pose store, playing and giggling like girls do, trying out all the poses, some goofy and fun, others more explicite and very sexual. Gradually feeling myself respond to some of the poses that we were in. I thought she was thinking to herself how nice they would be to use on one of her boys. Sister, had other thoughts in mind, unbeknowst to me.
Now sis has always made it clear that she was attracted to the female much more than the male, but she also knew that I was a woman that only does boys.... sensing that, my sister knew how my body was responding at my thoughts, decided to take that to her advantage and moved us onto our next destination: a fabulous castle, wandering the rooms, admirering the devine portraits, era fitting furnature, she took me by the hand and pulled me to another room.... This room, full of magnificent pieces , filled with full animations. She passes by me, sliding her hand along my back, then my ass as she walks by. Grabbing my hand and pulling me with her as she goes over to the medievil looking bench, with exquisite scrolling, I was admiriing, as she apparently was admiring my backside. She tells me that she would like nothing more than to put me over that bench and do me right there.
Now I have never been one to get turned on by a woman, but wow, let me tell you, to my surprise, that girl can emote.
The End
The day started as a normal day for me, a day of SL shopping planned with my Dominion femdom sister, she had alot of places she intended to take me.
To my surprise, our day of shopping and site seeing wasnt as it usually had been, you know, gowns, sexy little numbers... jewelry,shoes and hair.. nooo today was far more than that. Our first stop was at an art gallery, a bondage gallery, very interesting. and to be honest, I could feel myself warming. My sister is always a very "touchy" woman, so when she caressed my arm, I thought nothing of it. Our second stop was to a pose store, playing and giggling like girls do, trying out all the poses, some goofy and fun, others more explicite and very sexual. Gradually feeling myself respond to some of the poses that we were in. I thought she was thinking to herself how nice they would be to use on one of her boys. Sister, had other thoughts in mind, unbeknowst to me.
Now sis has always made it clear that she was attracted to the female much more than the male, but she also knew that I was a woman that only does boys.... sensing that, my sister knew how my body was responding at my thoughts, decided to take that to her advantage and moved us onto our next destination: a fabulous castle, wandering the rooms, admirering the devine portraits, era fitting furnature, she took me by the hand and pulled me to another room.... This room, full of magnificent pieces , filled with full animations. She passes by me, sliding her hand along my back, then my ass as she walks by. Grabbing my hand and pulling me with her as she goes over to the medievil looking bench, with exquisite scrolling, I was admiriing, as she apparently was admiring my backside. She tells me that she would like nothing more than to put me over that bench and do me right there.
Now I have never been one to get turned on by a woman, but wow, let me tell you, to my surprise, that girl can emote.
The End
Confessions of a New Girl- 6 Months Later - Zaira
Confessions of a new girl - 6 months later
During my very first week at the Dominion I was asked to write a confession. I had no idea what confessions was and had never attended. It was a daunting task because I knew enough that what I would confess would be some peoples first and only impression of me.
I was new to femdom, new to bdsm many would have said. I was not one of them.
I confess I did not really expect it to take over my secondlife as it has done since then, and move beyond it.
I confess that the tone of the Ladies when they correct a sub still makes me thankful, as I said then, that I have spent time making my av "pretty" and that I picked a sensible name.
I confess I do not find trials any easier now than I did that very first week. I know now that I do not like tiny avatars, though I still think Tweety was the better option from a tube of lube. I confess I still like the police uniforms, though my eyes do not now wander over them as they did then.
I confess that being called to the feet of Ladies, excited me and delighted me as much as I thought it would do in my first week.
I confess I under estimated the impact of the Dominion as a whole, and the impact those I would meet here would have on my life.
Even as impressed as I was in that first week, I did not expect it to be so true, for 6 months later it not to have slipped into constant drama, bickering and bitchyness. I confess I was slightly relieved when I realised it did happen though, now and then but was dealt with well.
I confess that as time moves on, it annoys me more to be called Miss, or Lady .. or when boys im me and say "look I greeted you first" or "I still consider you above me".
I confess that although I miss female submissives, I have found a few male friends here that I never thought would be possible.
I have shared many emotions here, during confessions in my past 6 months. I have confessed to being unsure, to wondering what it would be like to being owned by a Lady here. I have been owned by this Lady.
I confess now that asking to leave the consideration of this Lady whom I cared so much about, was one of the hardest things I have done, ever. I confess even with the pain that came after it, I hoped we would get back to where we are now.
There were days when I was tempted to tp away and never return.
I have confessed in secret my pain, and my hope as I looked forward from all of this, when I could not speak it myself and was supported by those around me. I was supported by amazing Ladies for whom I will always be grateful in how they held me up and pushed me forward.
I confess I knew where I wanted to be but that it took huge steps for me to admit this, to a Lady I had already met in the flesh. It was scary for it to be so real in the beginning of a relationship to have sat with her, walked with her, held open the door for her.
I have shared .. confessed even that I was happy in my consideration, I confess I am still happy, in fact it grows with each day.
I confess that without expecting anything of this place, and these people it has gone far and above my expectations.
I have changed and grown and learnt so much about myself in the past 6 months, with the help of those here. Not just my submission but me to my very core. My Mistress has secured this growth and encourages me daily, to fly in the sheer delight of being hers.
I confess that I didn't think I would be a lucky one, one who got to meet their owner.
I never thought, 6 months ago that I would be sitting here now, ready to confess some of my first real, in the flesh experiences, let alone with a Mistress I met here. I am, you will have to wait till next week for that one though.
During my very first week at the Dominion I was asked to write a confession. I had no idea what confessions was and had never attended. It was a daunting task because I knew enough that what I would confess would be some peoples first and only impression of me.
I was new to femdom, new to bdsm many would have said. I was not one of them.
I confess I did not really expect it to take over my secondlife as it has done since then, and move beyond it.
I confess that the tone of the Ladies when they correct a sub still makes me thankful, as I said then, that I have spent time making my av "pretty" and that I picked a sensible name.
I confess I do not find trials any easier now than I did that very first week. I know now that I do not like tiny avatars, though I still think Tweety was the better option from a tube of lube. I confess I still like the police uniforms, though my eyes do not now wander over them as they did then.
I confess that being called to the feet of Ladies, excited me and delighted me as much as I thought it would do in my first week.
I confess I under estimated the impact of the Dominion as a whole, and the impact those I would meet here would have on my life.
Even as impressed as I was in that first week, I did not expect it to be so true, for 6 months later it not to have slipped into constant drama, bickering and bitchyness. I confess I was slightly relieved when I realised it did happen though, now and then but was dealt with well.
I confess that as time moves on, it annoys me more to be called Miss, or Lady .. or when boys im me and say "look I greeted you first" or "I still consider you above me".
I confess that although I miss female submissives, I have found a few male friends here that I never thought would be possible.
I have shared many emotions here, during confessions in my past 6 months. I have confessed to being unsure, to wondering what it would be like to being owned by a Lady here. I have been owned by this Lady.
I confess now that asking to leave the consideration of this Lady whom I cared so much about, was one of the hardest things I have done, ever. I confess even with the pain that came after it, I hoped we would get back to where we are now.
There were days when I was tempted to tp away and never return.
I have confessed in secret my pain, and my hope as I looked forward from all of this, when I could not speak it myself and was supported by those around me. I was supported by amazing Ladies for whom I will always be grateful in how they held me up and pushed me forward.
I confess I knew where I wanted to be but that it took huge steps for me to admit this, to a Lady I had already met in the flesh. It was scary for it to be so real in the beginning of a relationship to have sat with her, walked with her, held open the door for her.
I have shared .. confessed even that I was happy in my consideration, I confess I am still happy, in fact it grows with each day.
I confess that without expecting anything of this place, and these people it has gone far and above my expectations.
I have changed and grown and learnt so much about myself in the past 6 months, with the help of those here. Not just my submission but me to my very core. My Mistress has secured this growth and encourages me daily, to fly in the sheer delight of being hers.
I confess that I didn't think I would be a lucky one, one who got to meet their owner.
I never thought, 6 months ago that I would be sitting here now, ready to confess some of my first real, in the flesh experiences, let alone with a Mistress I met here. I am, you will have to wait till next week for that one though.
My Sentence - By Hylarks
I stayed there in the darkness and thought about her while I obediently remained kneeling. I worshipped her and I willingly served her every desire. On a fate filled day I had offered her my body, mind and soul, for her pleasure and her amusement. She gracefully accepted my gift of submission and had started my training immediately.
Now in a dark room my entire body was aching and my ass was still on fire from the strikes of her belt. I began taking deep breaths to control my emotions, to calm myself from the past session. I had no idea how long I knelt there, or if I ever was alone, but without warning I felt a single leather clad finger on the back of my neck.
A shot of fear coursed through my body, had I nodded off or had she ever left the room? Either way she was most definitely behind me now, her arm over my shoulder as she caressed my chest with her gloved hand. She moved gracefully in front of me, delicately dragging her fingers around my shoulders till they reached my neck. She then cupped my chin in her hand and guided me up in to a standing position.
Not a word had been spoken and I could just make out her silhouette the dark room. I could hear her though, her breaths where deep, her heels clicked as she moved over the floor. She began to trace a finger down the middle of my chest, past my rising erection and then, sharply pinched and twisted one the pegs she had placed on my inner thigh.
I moaned slightly as pain shot up and down my body. To my surprise Mistress removed the peg she had just tormented me with, then she gently kissed me. Each peg was removed in the same manner, inner thighs, perineum and ball sack; she took her time knowing my increasing arousal. Each moment of pain as well as each kiss on my lips elevated my already aroused body.
I wanted to reach out to her, to hold her in my arms to kiss her passionately, however I did nothing. Mistress was in control, doing to me what she wished to do. Any attempt by me to take the slightest control would be totally unacceptable, so fighting my every urge I stood obediently and waited for her. I stood there as my body and mind reacted to the pain and pleasure she was inflicting on me.
Mistress moved her head down and began licking my belly button, then ever so slowly working her way up. Once she reached my chest she bit over the left nipple clamp and pulled out with her teeth, while she flicked her tongue over my nipple. She then moved to the right and did the same, working her way up she nibbled on my ear and ever so softly whispered, “These clamps will stay in place for now my boy”.
I said nothing in reply, I could say nothing, my emotions and body where fully erect and the pressure I felt to cum was overwhelming.
She moved behind me again, where she had started and gently pushed on my back guiding me to a hunched over position. I placed my hands on my knees to support myself. She began to rub my ass; I flinched at her touch as it was still stinging from the whips of her belt. I shuddered as Mistress began to apply a thick greasy substance over and into my ass.
Then it felt it, being coaxed into my ass. Mistress must be wearing her strap on!! A heavy moan escaped my lips as she pushed and guided, ever so gently, her cock into me. I shivered as it hit home, my knees wavered slightly. Her one hand quickly rounded my waist and grasped my rock hard cock. She pulled me close and held me up. I leaned back into her and she softly whispered into my ear, “remember boy, you are mine and serve me”.
She began to pump both cocks slowly in unison, my body ached and shivered. Her breathing quickened as did the pace of her pumping. Her increased excitement only served to arouse me even more and I moaned openly as I approached the edge and surrendered myself to her. As I hit the edge I began begging her for permission to cum, it had be months since I had that pleasure and needed the sweet release.
“Not yet my boy”, I could hear the excitement and laughter in her voice. She stopped pumping and held us close, allowing me to calm down and relax ever so slightly. I relaxed and pleaded again “please my Mistress, please let your boy cum”. The reply was firm, “only when I say mine”.
Time after time, edge after edge, for what seemed like an eternity, Mistress played with my body, Mistress played with my mind and she played with my soul. She played with and controlled what was hers. Mistress played for her pleasure and her pleasure alone. I was in tears, begging her to let me cum. Struggling to hold, not to cum without permission.
I was powerless against her, totally held by her arms and her will. Then suddenly there was nothing, she was gone. She had withdrawn and taken several steps back. “No Mistress, please”, I cried as I fell to my knees. “Please use me more my Mistress, I begged, please let me cum.”
Her hand guided me down, pressed me down to the floor on my side. Reaching down she quickly removed the nipple clamps and whispered into my ear “Only when I say my boy. I will return when you have recovered, when you are calm.”
I watched her as she left the room and shut the door. There in the dark room, broken and lying on the hard floor, I cried.
Hy
Now in a dark room my entire body was aching and my ass was still on fire from the strikes of her belt. I began taking deep breaths to control my emotions, to calm myself from the past session. I had no idea how long I knelt there, or if I ever was alone, but without warning I felt a single leather clad finger on the back of my neck.
A shot of fear coursed through my body, had I nodded off or had she ever left the room? Either way she was most definitely behind me now, her arm over my shoulder as she caressed my chest with her gloved hand. She moved gracefully in front of me, delicately dragging her fingers around my shoulders till they reached my neck. She then cupped my chin in her hand and guided me up in to a standing position.
Not a word had been spoken and I could just make out her silhouette the dark room. I could hear her though, her breaths where deep, her heels clicked as she moved over the floor. She began to trace a finger down the middle of my chest, past my rising erection and then, sharply pinched and twisted one the pegs she had placed on my inner thigh.
I moaned slightly as pain shot up and down my body. To my surprise Mistress removed the peg she had just tormented me with, then she gently kissed me. Each peg was removed in the same manner, inner thighs, perineum and ball sack; she took her time knowing my increasing arousal. Each moment of pain as well as each kiss on my lips elevated my already aroused body.
I wanted to reach out to her, to hold her in my arms to kiss her passionately, however I did nothing. Mistress was in control, doing to me what she wished to do. Any attempt by me to take the slightest control would be totally unacceptable, so fighting my every urge I stood obediently and waited for her. I stood there as my body and mind reacted to the pain and pleasure she was inflicting on me.
Mistress moved her head down and began licking my belly button, then ever so slowly working her way up. Once she reached my chest she bit over the left nipple clamp and pulled out with her teeth, while she flicked her tongue over my nipple. She then moved to the right and did the same, working her way up she nibbled on my ear and ever so softly whispered, “These clamps will stay in place for now my boy”.
I said nothing in reply, I could say nothing, my emotions and body where fully erect and the pressure I felt to cum was overwhelming.
She moved behind me again, where she had started and gently pushed on my back guiding me to a hunched over position. I placed my hands on my knees to support myself. She began to rub my ass; I flinched at her touch as it was still stinging from the whips of her belt. I shuddered as Mistress began to apply a thick greasy substance over and into my ass.
Then it felt it, being coaxed into my ass. Mistress must be wearing her strap on!! A heavy moan escaped my lips as she pushed and guided, ever so gently, her cock into me. I shivered as it hit home, my knees wavered slightly. Her one hand quickly rounded my waist and grasped my rock hard cock. She pulled me close and held me up. I leaned back into her and she softly whispered into my ear, “remember boy, you are mine and serve me”.
She began to pump both cocks slowly in unison, my body ached and shivered. Her breathing quickened as did the pace of her pumping. Her increased excitement only served to arouse me even more and I moaned openly as I approached the edge and surrendered myself to her. As I hit the edge I began begging her for permission to cum, it had be months since I had that pleasure and needed the sweet release.
“Not yet my boy”, I could hear the excitement and laughter in her voice. She stopped pumping and held us close, allowing me to calm down and relax ever so slightly. I relaxed and pleaded again “please my Mistress, please let your boy cum”. The reply was firm, “only when I say mine”.
Time after time, edge after edge, for what seemed like an eternity, Mistress played with my body, Mistress played with my mind and she played with my soul. She played with and controlled what was hers. Mistress played for her pleasure and her pleasure alone. I was in tears, begging her to let me cum. Struggling to hold, not to cum without permission.
I was powerless against her, totally held by her arms and her will. Then suddenly there was nothing, she was gone. She had withdrawn and taken several steps back. “No Mistress, please”, I cried as I fell to my knees. “Please use me more my Mistress, I begged, please let me cum.”
Her hand guided me down, pressed me down to the floor on my side. Reaching down she quickly removed the nipple clamps and whispered into my ear “Only when I say my boy. I will return when you have recovered, when you are calm.”
I watched her as she left the room and shut the door. There in the dark room, broken and lying on the hard floor, I cried.
Hy
Confession for Hanna - Orchid
Hanna asked me to write her a confession. I readily agreed. I mean, it's Hanna. But really, i'm not sure what to confess. Do I confess that, there are still some women here, that intimidate me? Do I confess that, I feel like a stronger woman after meeting some of the Ladies I have? Or, better yet, do I confess about the boy? the boy who's stolen my heart, weakened my knees, and speaks to my soul. The one who's presnece can change my day. The boy who's undying devotion, and servitude put me on a pedestal, even as a Domme, I'm not used to. The one who's constant, even when he's not there. The one who revolves his day, week, around me. Just to keep me happy, and far from in need of anything. Yes, I think I'll confess about that boy. Eventhough, he's not a confession. Not really. He's just, a part of my life. And soon, permanantly.
Orchid Ixtar
Orchid Ixtar
Shy Noontan's Confession
It was a hot and muggy night, and Mistress had been out all day, shopping, buying herself all kinds of pretty things, new boots, new high heels, and a few new outfits, short skirts and skimpy blouses. I was waiting home, in her bedroom, tied to a post where she had left me all day. She came into the room, her hands full of shopping bags, and giggled hysterically when she opened the door to see me chained to the post, kneeling, wearing lingerie and the heels that she had put on me earlier.
"Baby, i bought some things today, some for me and some for you as a smirk came across her soft red full moist lips. Wanna see what I got?"
I mumbled my answer, looking intently at the bags, not really knowing what to expect. As Mistress set the bags on the bed, she looked over at me with a stern, yet playful grin. As she began to take things out of the bag, I gasped as I noticed her taking out a large butt plug, an eight inch vibrator, a heavy set of cuffs, and a new flogger.
"So baby what do you think, Mistress smirked and giggled".
Lost for words, I just nodded and mumbled something that at this point I really can't remember.
"Baby, you are in for the time of your life tonight, and I have a lot of aggression to get rid of. Those crowds in the mall were absolutely unbearable and I am in a miserable mood."
Mistress came over to me, motioned to her feet, and I planted a soft wet kiss on the top of her new leather boots. The smell of leather permeated my nose and I gasped taking it in, pressing my nervous lips against the tops of her boots. She then motioned to her heel, and commanded "Suck slut". I took the heel into my mouth and began sucking on it, having it wrapped tightly around my lips as I moved the six inch heel up and down into my mouth, sucking on it gently. After a while Mistress commented "Baby I think you need something a little bigger to suck on. I notice with all your pretty lingerie there, you must be a good cocksucker. Let's find out shall we?"
I saw Mistress go into the bathroom, and a few minutes later come out with a skimpy black leather outfit on with a large eight inch strap on dildo attached to a harness around her waist. She came over to me, and unhooked my chain, leading me by the collar over to her nightstand where all her make up was. "Little cocksuckers need lipstick, don't they" she giggled. She pushed me down, and sat in the chair, reaching over and grabbing her bright red lipstick. Taking my face in her hand, she began liberally applying the wet red lipstick to my lips, looking me in the eyes as she did. "Now baby, this is good, non-smear stuff, so it won't smear while you are sucking my cock"
She led me over to the bed, and sat up on it, with me on the floor in front of her. She said "suck you little cocksucker"...and immediately i moved into her large strap on and began sucking on it deeply and intently, moving my mouth in and out quickly and deliberately, feeling and tasting the lipstick. I continued to suck, taking it deep into my mouth, almost gagging on it with each stroke into my mouth.
Now baby, get up here she commanded. I got up on the bed, and on my hands and knees....i Just kneeled there, knowing what was about to happen. Mistress got out the new cuffs that she bought, and strapped my arms to the front of the bed, and my legs widely spread apart to the bottom of the bed. There I was bound, my ass spread wide apart, unable to move a bit. She got in behind me, and whispered into my ear "Now you are going to learn what a real fucking is you little slut", and as she just finished her last word plunged the thick large plastic cock deep into my ass. I yelped as I felt it penetrate me and groaned as she started pushing the cock deep in and out of my ass. She kept doing that for what seemed like an eternity, and then out of nowhere I felt a quick stinging sensation on my ass, from the rubber flogger.
Mistress kept sliding the cock in and out of my ass, hearing my groans and yelps, and whacking me intently on the ass cheeks with her new flogger..My ass began to redden, to feel the warmth of the rubber, and my groans intensified.
"Shut up you llittle slut, can't you take a good ass fucking," Mistress sternly said, and then I felt her red satin panties plunge into my mouth, gagging me. She taped them into me with a roll of tape she had by the bed, and tightly bound my mouth with her panties.
The ass fucking continued along with the whacks from the flogger. I could feel the welts grow on my ass, and mumbled groans through her panties as the cock continued to invade me deeply.
She finally removed the cock from my ass after another ten minutes of pure pain and torture. Mistress sensing she had me completely in subspace lied me over on the bed, face up, and moved the cuffs to keep me tied in the bed...
"Now baby, I think you have had enough for tonight....but i have one more thing for you....
And with one quick motion she began jerking my cock with force and strength.......my cock was pulsating and twitching, and I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my cum in for long.
After about three more strokes Mistress felt my cock twitch again and I exploded with cum all over the place, as Mistress caught every single drop in her hand. She then smirked at me and said "little cocksuckers need to know what cum tastes like", and she took her hand and smeared the cum all over my face...i could taste it, smell it, and feel it penetrate my skin.
Mistress then left the room and went to sleep in another room, leaving me there all tied up for the night, my face smothered in cum.
The End
"Baby, i bought some things today, some for me and some for you as a smirk came across her soft red full moist lips. Wanna see what I got?"
I mumbled my answer, looking intently at the bags, not really knowing what to expect. As Mistress set the bags on the bed, she looked over at me with a stern, yet playful grin. As she began to take things out of the bag, I gasped as I noticed her taking out a large butt plug, an eight inch vibrator, a heavy set of cuffs, and a new flogger.
"So baby what do you think, Mistress smirked and giggled".
Lost for words, I just nodded and mumbled something that at this point I really can't remember.
"Baby, you are in for the time of your life tonight, and I have a lot of aggression to get rid of. Those crowds in the mall were absolutely unbearable and I am in a miserable mood."
Mistress came over to me, motioned to her feet, and I planted a soft wet kiss on the top of her new leather boots. The smell of leather permeated my nose and I gasped taking it in, pressing my nervous lips against the tops of her boots. She then motioned to her heel, and commanded "Suck slut". I took the heel into my mouth and began sucking on it, having it wrapped tightly around my lips as I moved the six inch heel up and down into my mouth, sucking on it gently. After a while Mistress commented "Baby I think you need something a little bigger to suck on. I notice with all your pretty lingerie there, you must be a good cocksucker. Let's find out shall we?"
I saw Mistress go into the bathroom, and a few minutes later come out with a skimpy black leather outfit on with a large eight inch strap on dildo attached to a harness around her waist. She came over to me, and unhooked my chain, leading me by the collar over to her nightstand where all her make up was. "Little cocksuckers need lipstick, don't they" she giggled. She pushed me down, and sat in the chair, reaching over and grabbing her bright red lipstick. Taking my face in her hand, she began liberally applying the wet red lipstick to my lips, looking me in the eyes as she did. "Now baby, this is good, non-smear stuff, so it won't smear while you are sucking my cock"
She led me over to the bed, and sat up on it, with me on the floor in front of her. She said "suck you little cocksucker"...and immediately i moved into her large strap on and began sucking on it deeply and intently, moving my mouth in and out quickly and deliberately, feeling and tasting the lipstick. I continued to suck, taking it deep into my mouth, almost gagging on it with each stroke into my mouth.
Now baby, get up here she commanded. I got up on the bed, and on my hands and knees....i Just kneeled there, knowing what was about to happen. Mistress got out the new cuffs that she bought, and strapped my arms to the front of the bed, and my legs widely spread apart to the bottom of the bed. There I was bound, my ass spread wide apart, unable to move a bit. She got in behind me, and whispered into my ear "Now you are going to learn what a real fucking is you little slut", and as she just finished her last word plunged the thick large plastic cock deep into my ass. I yelped as I felt it penetrate me and groaned as she started pushing the cock deep in and out of my ass. She kept doing that for what seemed like an eternity, and then out of nowhere I felt a quick stinging sensation on my ass, from the rubber flogger.
Mistress kept sliding the cock in and out of my ass, hearing my groans and yelps, and whacking me intently on the ass cheeks with her new flogger..My ass began to redden, to feel the warmth of the rubber, and my groans intensified.
"Shut up you llittle slut, can't you take a good ass fucking," Mistress sternly said, and then I felt her red satin panties plunge into my mouth, gagging me. She taped them into me with a roll of tape she had by the bed, and tightly bound my mouth with her panties.
The ass fucking continued along with the whacks from the flogger. I could feel the welts grow on my ass, and mumbled groans through her panties as the cock continued to invade me deeply.
She finally removed the cock from my ass after another ten minutes of pure pain and torture. Mistress sensing she had me completely in subspace lied me over on the bed, face up, and moved the cuffs to keep me tied in the bed...
"Now baby, I think you have had enough for tonight....but i have one more thing for you....
And with one quick motion she began jerking my cock with force and strength.......my cock was pulsating and twitching, and I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my cum in for long.
After about three more strokes Mistress felt my cock twitch again and I exploded with cum all over the place, as Mistress caught every single drop in her hand. She then smirked at me and said "little cocksuckers need to know what cum tastes like", and she took her hand and smeared the cum all over my face...i could taste it, smell it, and feel it penetrate my skin.
Mistress then left the room and went to sleep in another room, leaving me there all tied up for the night, my face smothered in cum.
The End
Confessions - Glass - by Kyna
The scene before me opens up
behind this glass I see it unfold
cold against my warm skin
by breath faintly fogging it
leaving a trace that I have been there
Two pairs of eyes glow within the darkness
close and intimate their intensity, magnifying.
so close I could touch them
but my fingertips stop
halted by the clear barrier
Could they know how it tortures
being within reach but held back
unable to see through this embracing shadows
trapped behind this window
that I dare not break
Soon the lights start to dim
their eyes closing as if to part
until their next meeting
Still I sit lingering against cold crystal formed wall
wondering, musing as I slide down
Once again feeling the silence of the night
the caress of a time long forgotten
scents awakening my dreams
wishing for the taste of those hopes
Seeing nothing though the glass
behind this glass I see it unfold
cold against my warm skin
by breath faintly fogging it
leaving a trace that I have been there
Two pairs of eyes glow within the darkness
close and intimate their intensity, magnifying.
so close I could touch them
but my fingertips stop
halted by the clear barrier
Could they know how it tortures
being within reach but held back
unable to see through this embracing shadows
trapped behind this window
that I dare not break
Soon the lights start to dim
their eyes closing as if to part
until their next meeting
Still I sit lingering against cold crystal formed wall
wondering, musing as I slide down
Once again feeling the silence of the night
the caress of a time long forgotten
scents awakening my dreams
wishing for the taste of those hopes
Seeing nothing though the glass
Sunday, November 7, 2010
I dount touch myself - Robb and Alex's apology song
The following song (sung to the melody of "i touch myself" by the Divinyls) was sung by Robb and Alexith to apologise to their Mistress, Zarita Shan, for poor chat etiquette. Robb and Dave dressed as ducks, and danced before all Ladies present, while singing the following song.
I don't touch myself
ROB
I love myself
I want you to love me
When I've let you down
I want you to forgive me
I spank myself
I beg you to plug me
I forget my place
I want you to remind me
ALEX
I don't want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
I can't touch myself
I don’t want to cum for anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no (moaning as said)
ROB
You're the one who makes me start edging
You’re the one that makes my red ass shine
Please let me cum, i start my hedging
“I’ll count to ten now, Mine”
ALEX
I close my eyes
And see you before me
Think I would die
If you didn’t forgive me
An idiot boy could see
Just how much I adore you
I get down on my knees
I'd do anything for you
ROB
I don't want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
I can't touch myself
I don’t want to cum for anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no (moaning as said)
ALEX
I love myself
I want you to love me
When I've let you down
I want you to forgive me
I spank myself
I beg you to plug me
I forget my place
I want you to remind me
ROB
I don't want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
I can't touch myself
I don’t want to cum for anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no (moaning as said)
(whispered)I want you - Alex
I don't want anybody else - Rob
And when I think about you - Alex
I touch myself - Rob
Ooooo, OoOOOOooo, Oooooo OOOOOOOOOO, ahhhhhhhh (loud) - Alex
ALEX
I don't want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
I can't touch myself
I don’t want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
BOTH
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I honestly do…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I honestly do…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I don't touch myself
ROB
I love myself
I want you to love me
When I've let you down
I want you to forgive me
I spank myself
I beg you to plug me
I forget my place
I want you to remind me
ALEX
I don't want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
I can't touch myself
I don’t want to cum for anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no (moaning as said)
ROB
You're the one who makes me start edging
You’re the one that makes my red ass shine
Please let me cum, i start my hedging
“I’ll count to ten now, Mine”
ALEX
I close my eyes
And see you before me
Think I would die
If you didn’t forgive me
An idiot boy could see
Just how much I adore you
I get down on my knees
I'd do anything for you
ROB
I don't want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
I can't touch myself
I don’t want to cum for anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no (moaning as said)
ALEX
I love myself
I want you to love me
When I've let you down
I want you to forgive me
I spank myself
I beg you to plug me
I forget my place
I want you to remind me
ROB
I don't want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
I can't touch myself
I don’t want to cum for anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no (moaning as said)
(whispered)I want you - Alex
I don't want anybody else - Rob
And when I think about you - Alex
I touch myself - Rob
Ooooo, OoOOOOooo, Oooooo OOOOOOOOOO, ahhhhhhhh (loud) - Alex
ALEX
I don't want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
I can't touch myself
I don’t want anybody else
When I hear you tell me
BOTH
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I honestly do…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I honestly do…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
I touch myself…
Orgasms are overrated - Robb
My confession actually is in two parts, the first part being when I was trying to be a good brother to alex, and the second part where I made large faux pas with my Mistress.
For the first part, I was speaking recently with Mistress and alex, and hearing the full explanation of how alex had negotiated on behalf of his penis for the immediate pleasure of an orgasm in exchange of a month worth of edging and celibacy. This didn’t come as a shock to me as I know what a lusty boy alex can be for Mistress, and I have learned how jelly “rolls.”
After alex had explained his current predicament, he pleaded with me to take on his burden for him, he said that, “Frustration and deprivation get a bad wrap. But three out of four holy men and visionaries say it's a key to enlightenment” and “Im willing to share the amazing possibilities of denial with you.”
To which I said, “sure, I’ll take your month for you.”
When alex questioned me on this, I made a rather, glib, sarcastic comment that bit me in the arse later…but agreed to the deal.
I told Mistress that i have offered to take on alex's burden, and with Her permission he would be free and clear of his month-long sabbatical from his penis, and I would be taking on his burden, like the saint I am.
Mistress said, “fine, you can both abstain for a month.”
I think you could hear alex and mine’s mouths hit the floor.
“But Mistress” I started to say…but there was no point.
We were now both engaged in a battle of our penises.
While I was still processing all this, Mistress made note of a comment I had made to alex.
She asked me to repeat it.
“I was teasing Mistress…seriously..i didn’t REALLY mean it.”
“Say it birdy boy” she said.
I cleared my throat…never thinking this would come around to bite me in the ass…
“meh…orgasms are overrated.”
Mistress puts this to the test...by having me edge…three times...while I repeat...over and over...”orgasms are overrated…orgasms are overrated…orgasms are overrated.”
Because of my new found abstinence…I beg Mistress to please let me stop edging..so worried about disappointing and knowing there is no happy ending to this tale.
I whimper, beg and plead….and finally she lets me stop…and sends me off to bed. Where I think to myself I will pitch more tents then a boy scout jamboree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My confession..part 2
The other part of my confession is that, I made a mistake the other night. I went to private message alex before I had even greeted Mistress, and
She had to message me first.
I felt awful of course, and I regretted my mistake immediately.
So with that said, I humbly apologize Mistress…I know I made a mistake and I beg for Your forgiveness.
I know at times I am an idiot boy, and I ducked up…I mean..fucked up….but I do apologize, and alex and I readily accept our punishment.
For the first part, I was speaking recently with Mistress and alex, and hearing the full explanation of how alex had negotiated on behalf of his penis for the immediate pleasure of an orgasm in exchange of a month worth of edging and celibacy. This didn’t come as a shock to me as I know what a lusty boy alex can be for Mistress, and I have learned how jelly “rolls.”
After alex had explained his current predicament, he pleaded with me to take on his burden for him, he said that, “Frustration and deprivation get a bad wrap. But three out of four holy men and visionaries say it's a key to enlightenment” and “Im willing to share the amazing possibilities of denial with you.”
To which I said, “sure, I’ll take your month for you.”
When alex questioned me on this, I made a rather, glib, sarcastic comment that bit me in the arse later…but agreed to the deal.
I told Mistress that i have offered to take on alex's burden, and with Her permission he would be free and clear of his month-long sabbatical from his penis, and I would be taking on his burden, like the saint I am.
Mistress said, “fine, you can both abstain for a month.”
I think you could hear alex and mine’s mouths hit the floor.
“But Mistress” I started to say…but there was no point.
We were now both engaged in a battle of our penises.
While I was still processing all this, Mistress made note of a comment I had made to alex.
She asked me to repeat it.
“I was teasing Mistress…seriously..i didn’t REALLY mean it.”
“Say it birdy boy” she said.
I cleared my throat…never thinking this would come around to bite me in the ass…
“meh…orgasms are overrated.”
Mistress puts this to the test...by having me edge…three times...while I repeat...over and over...”orgasms are overrated…orgasms are overrated…orgasms are overrated.”
Because of my new found abstinence…I beg Mistress to please let me stop edging..so worried about disappointing and knowing there is no happy ending to this tale.
I whimper, beg and plead….and finally she lets me stop…and sends me off to bed. Where I think to myself I will pitch more tents then a boy scout jamboree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My confession..part 2
The other part of my confession is that, I made a mistake the other night. I went to private message alex before I had even greeted Mistress, and
She had to message me first.
I felt awful of course, and I regretted my mistake immediately.
So with that said, I humbly apologize Mistress…I know I made a mistake and I beg for Your forgiveness.
I know at times I am an idiot boy, and I ducked up…I mean..fucked up….but I do apologize, and alex and I readily accept our punishment.
Horn of a Dilemma part 2 – Alexith
To set the scene, last week i told confessions about a really really REALLY stupid decision i made. Now I have a red circle on my calendar on the 29th of November 2010; a whole month. Mistress seized the puppet strings of my submissive slutty self and had me dance like a horny pinocchio to her dominant, seductive tune. She edged, humbled, tormented and FUCKED me until my personal demons of frustration, powerlessness and desire played tag team wrestling in my psyche. Finally, close to midnight, i found myself in another place, being ass-fucked on the horn of a desperate dilemma. Pain, humiliation and desperation, oh my! I was on the dark side of the moon and no reference point or home existed for me but my Mistresses powerful, owning indomitable will.
Mistress calmly, but with potent authority in her voice gave me a simple, agonising choice. She told me i could either cum now, and wait for a whole month before another chance presented itself, or i could choose not to cum now, and no such lengthy period of abstinence would apply. i opened my mouth to say no... but instead i said... "nnnyes Mistress, please let me cum now, please". In that moment i made the active conscious decision to fuck “future me” over so that i could have that moment of blissful release i had been so hurt, fucked and humiliated for. I took it, and future me, i decided, could look after himself.
Well, now i am future me, and i am not too happy about the stupid decisions past me made just over a week ago. In fact, if i coud go back and bitch slap past me repeatedly for being so damn selfish, i definitely would. And i have 3 weeks to go. Let me rephrase... Three FUCKING weeks to go.
..... And now Part 2, in this fascinating exploration of the depths to which boy stupidity and desperation can sink.
Mistress calmly, but with potent authority in her voice gave me a simple, agonising choice. She told me i could either cum now, and wait for a whole month before another chance presented itself, or i could choose not to cum now, and no such lengthy period of abstinence would apply. i opened my mouth to say no... but instead i said... "nnnyes Mistress, please let me cum now, please". In that moment i made the active conscious decision to fuck “future me” over so that i could have that moment of blissful release i had been so hurt, fucked and humiliated for. I took it, and future me, i decided, could look after himself.
Well, now i am future me, and i am not too happy about the stupid decisions past me made just over a week ago. In fact, if i coud go back and bitch slap past me repeatedly for being so damn selfish, i definitely would. And i have 3 weeks to go. Let me rephrase... Three FUCKING weeks to go.
..... And now Part 2, in this fascinating exploration of the depths to which boy stupidity and desperation can sink.
First 3 way with a boy - Alexi
My first 3 way with a boy.
When I was a little bit younger than I am now, I was in a relationship with a very beautiful woman named Denise. She was a curvy black woman with a very strong will and expected obedience from her boys. Of course, I fell for her right away. We were together for a few months, and she completely controlled how things went with us. I would come over and clean her house and run her errands, and when she was in the mood for it, would serve her in the bedroom as well. She always loved my mouth and would take full advantage of it whenever she wanted that kind of service. After a few months, she decided she very much wanted to see me learn to suck cock as well. She started training me on toys and built up very quickly to fucking my thoat with a long, slender strap-on. After a few weeks of that, I could take it all the way to the end without choking. During the course of our relationship, she never stopped seeing other men, and it was never something I was concerned about, or even was ever asked about. It was understood that she could do what she liked. Once she had my mouth and throat trained how she liked it, I got a call from her. She had arranged to meet Mike, one of her other partners, at a hotel and she wanted me there in an hour. Mike was one of those cocky men that thought a big dick meant he was in charge of things. He had always been able to push the other girls in his life around, but never Denise. She got what she wanted, when she wanted, but he was never really a submissive of hers. Just a good fuck for when she wanted someone big. Mike was straight, but she had convinced him that it wouldn't make him a gay guy to let her boy suck his cock, and being the arrogant jerk he was, he readilyl agreed.
I got to the hotel pretty quick and they were both there. I think they had stayed the previous night. She was in something diaphonous that made me just crazy, and he was in his boxers. Like I said, he was an arrogant jerk. She got us all up into bed and told me to pull down his shorts and get to work. I sucked him slowly to start, but he got very hard, very fast and started to fuck my mouth. She pulled him back when he started getting to frisky and told him to save it for her. She lounged back on the pillows watching us and it was pretty obvious that she was enjoying it. When he got good and hard...and pretty flushed with excitement, she told me to stop and to put it into her so she could enjoy hime. I popped him out of my mouth and slipped him up to her opening and he pushed right in. While they were going at, she directed me down to her feet and I was allowed to suck on her toes as best as I could while she was getting a very hard fucking. I heard him grunt like a pig when he came and she pulled me up to clean her. He was kind of an ass about it, making cracks about what a sissy faggot I was.
She got pretty annoyed about that and told him that it was to please her and if he ever wanted to get a chance with her again, he better say he was sorry. He gave a grumbly little apology and kind of smiled at her. She didn't buy that and told him she better see him showing how sorry he was and that giving my dick a kiss would be a good start. I think he turned about 10 shades of pink and stood there slack jawed. She told him he could get started or get the hell out right there and then. He grudgingly got down and gave my dick a little kiss while I continued to clean Miss's pussy out of his cum. When his head went down, her leg hooked over his head and pressed him to continue. I thought there was no way he would, but he opened his mouth and started sucking my dick. I got even harder, as I was there worshipping her and this arrogant ass was sucking my dick! After a few moments, she told him to get on his knees and she pulled him into my spot and told him to get the last drops that I might have missed. He looked like a humbled little boy as he started to lick. He stayed there on all fours, with his head down between her legs and she told me to show him what a sissy faggot felt like.
I lined up behind him with my spit slick dick and pushed into him and I swear he didn't even yelp. She had her hands wrapped in his hair and directing his mouth where she wanted it and I got to fuck this arrogant prick until she let me cum inside of him. It was amazing to watch the power she had to break that arrogant jerk and how quickly it happened. I think after that, she used to have him come over from time to time to remind him of his place, but mostly she didn't put him in that spot again. But it was a wonderful display of her power and my first 3 way with a boy.
When I was a little bit younger than I am now, I was in a relationship with a very beautiful woman named Denise. She was a curvy black woman with a very strong will and expected obedience from her boys. Of course, I fell for her right away. We were together for a few months, and she completely controlled how things went with us. I would come over and clean her house and run her errands, and when she was in the mood for it, would serve her in the bedroom as well. She always loved my mouth and would take full advantage of it whenever she wanted that kind of service. After a few months, she decided she very much wanted to see me learn to suck cock as well. She started training me on toys and built up very quickly to fucking my thoat with a long, slender strap-on. After a few weeks of that, I could take it all the way to the end without choking. During the course of our relationship, she never stopped seeing other men, and it was never something I was concerned about, or even was ever asked about. It was understood that she could do what she liked. Once she had my mouth and throat trained how she liked it, I got a call from her. She had arranged to meet Mike, one of her other partners, at a hotel and she wanted me there in an hour. Mike was one of those cocky men that thought a big dick meant he was in charge of things. He had always been able to push the other girls in his life around, but never Denise. She got what she wanted, when she wanted, but he was never really a submissive of hers. Just a good fuck for when she wanted someone big. Mike was straight, but she had convinced him that it wouldn't make him a gay guy to let her boy suck his cock, and being the arrogant jerk he was, he readilyl agreed.
I got to the hotel pretty quick and they were both there. I think they had stayed the previous night. She was in something diaphonous that made me just crazy, and he was in his boxers. Like I said, he was an arrogant jerk. She got us all up into bed and told me to pull down his shorts and get to work. I sucked him slowly to start, but he got very hard, very fast and started to fuck my mouth. She pulled him back when he started getting to frisky and told him to save it for her. She lounged back on the pillows watching us and it was pretty obvious that she was enjoying it. When he got good and hard...and pretty flushed with excitement, she told me to stop and to put it into her so she could enjoy hime. I popped him out of my mouth and slipped him up to her opening and he pushed right in. While they were going at, she directed me down to her feet and I was allowed to suck on her toes as best as I could while she was getting a very hard fucking. I heard him grunt like a pig when he came and she pulled me up to clean her. He was kind of an ass about it, making cracks about what a sissy faggot I was.
She got pretty annoyed about that and told him that it was to please her and if he ever wanted to get a chance with her again, he better say he was sorry. He gave a grumbly little apology and kind of smiled at her. She didn't buy that and told him she better see him showing how sorry he was and that giving my dick a kiss would be a good start. I think he turned about 10 shades of pink and stood there slack jawed. She told him he could get started or get the hell out right there and then. He grudgingly got down and gave my dick a little kiss while I continued to clean Miss's pussy out of his cum. When his head went down, her leg hooked over his head and pressed him to continue. I thought there was no way he would, but he opened his mouth and started sucking my dick. I got even harder, as I was there worshipping her and this arrogant ass was sucking my dick! After a few moments, she told him to get on his knees and she pulled him into my spot and told him to get the last drops that I might have missed. He looked like a humbled little boy as he started to lick. He stayed there on all fours, with his head down between her legs and she told me to show him what a sissy faggot felt like.
I lined up behind him with my spit slick dick and pushed into him and I swear he didn't even yelp. She had her hands wrapped in his hair and directing his mouth where she wanted it and I got to fuck this arrogant prick until she let me cum inside of him. It was amazing to watch the power she had to break that arrogant jerk and how quickly it happened. I think after that, she used to have him come over from time to time to remind him of his place, but mostly she didn't put him in that spot again. But it was a wonderful display of her power and my first 3 way with a boy.
Confession - Rocksie
I arrived home from work tired, yet restless. I was ready to relax, forget the hassles of the day and focus my attention on my boys. Yes, I am a woman that wants and needs more than one boy. I wonder at that some nights. Why do I want this? Why is this important? I have a real life husband that I am happy with. I have a virtual husband that I am happy with. Both are dominant yet equal partners in my life. But that’s not enough to “complete” me. I need my boys.
As I sat down on the couch I heard those lovely words I wait for every night, “Hello Mistress.” “Come up stairs Ash” I called to him. I heard his cage door open and a minute later he entered the room and kneeled before me. He is a small man, attentive, very submissive, and truly wants my happiness. He’s my sweet heart. A moment later I was surprised to hear a deep, strong, commanding voice, “Hello Mistress.” My other boy had arrived. The two boys are from different Countries, their time with me rarely overlaps. Ian had been a Master in real life for 18 years and is exploring the submissive side of himself. He is a constant struggle to deal with.
I have to confess, I felt a moment of panic. How was I to deal with both of them at the same time? Two boys that had adamantly stated to me that they do not want to “play” with other men, and have such different needs and personalities. Yes, they would do as I say because I am their Mistress. But I was in the mood for mutual enjoyment that night, not more hassles.
I called to Ian, “Come up stairs boy.” He arrived and kneeled next to Ash. I could feel the tension in the air. Ash was apprehensive about Ian being there. Ian was feeling territorial and competitive. I looked them both over in silence while I lounged on the large couch. In a commanding tone, I told them both to strip! Ash and Ian both replied “yes Mistress.” They quickly shed their clothing. I was beginning to enjoy this.
I have another confession. I love to hear a man cum. I adore it! Crave it! To hear their breathing become more ragged, the quiver in the voice, the groans and even growls that seem to surge up from their very souls. I love to hear the moan and quiet cursing of a large butt plug or vibrator being inserted. Then listening to the rise in voice pitch as they become more urgent, begging to be allowed to cum. Hearing their cries pleading for release, mmm… yes. I love to listen to a man cum.
I stood up. Looking at my two boys, I instructed them both to slowly stroke. I began to very slowly remove my own clothing. I could hear their gasps. They feasted their eyes on my naked body, excited by the unexpected treat and stroked faster. I sat on the edge of the couch in front of my two boys and spread my legs wide, pulling my lips open to show the pink of my clit. Their moans became audible. Gone was the apprehensiveness and competitive posturing between the boys. They were already losing their aversion to “playing” close to another man. All of their attention was focused on me.
I began to touch my little bud, making circles and voicing my approval of them, of my own pleasure. I was so freaking turned on by hearing two boys at the same time growing hot, their moans escaping their lips. The sounds they made obviously excited each other to even greater arousal. Ian came quickly, exploding in a loud rush. Ash’s voice was becoming more ragged. He soon begged to be allowed to insert his butt plug, cursing as it pushed past his small ass hole. Ian, not even close to being spent was hammering away at his stiff cock again. He obviously wasn’t going to waste a moment at being allowed this “treat.” When the session finished, Ian had cum twice more by the time that Ash came hard in ragged and shuddering moans.
That was the only time I ever allowed the boys to cum while watching me. In the days that followed, I would occasionally enter the room to find them both there, chatting and joking around. The shared experience made a difference for them, and eased my mind about having the boys together. I still think of that night and confess that hearing them both was an experience I won’t forget.
As I sat down on the couch I heard those lovely words I wait for every night, “Hello Mistress.” “Come up stairs Ash” I called to him. I heard his cage door open and a minute later he entered the room and kneeled before me. He is a small man, attentive, very submissive, and truly wants my happiness. He’s my sweet heart. A moment later I was surprised to hear a deep, strong, commanding voice, “Hello Mistress.” My other boy had arrived. The two boys are from different Countries, their time with me rarely overlaps. Ian had been a Master in real life for 18 years and is exploring the submissive side of himself. He is a constant struggle to deal with.
I have to confess, I felt a moment of panic. How was I to deal with both of them at the same time? Two boys that had adamantly stated to me that they do not want to “play” with other men, and have such different needs and personalities. Yes, they would do as I say because I am their Mistress. But I was in the mood for mutual enjoyment that night, not more hassles.
I called to Ian, “Come up stairs boy.” He arrived and kneeled next to Ash. I could feel the tension in the air. Ash was apprehensive about Ian being there. Ian was feeling territorial and competitive. I looked them both over in silence while I lounged on the large couch. In a commanding tone, I told them both to strip! Ash and Ian both replied “yes Mistress.” They quickly shed their clothing. I was beginning to enjoy this.
I have another confession. I love to hear a man cum. I adore it! Crave it! To hear their breathing become more ragged, the quiver in the voice, the groans and even growls that seem to surge up from their very souls. I love to hear the moan and quiet cursing of a large butt plug or vibrator being inserted. Then listening to the rise in voice pitch as they become more urgent, begging to be allowed to cum. Hearing their cries pleading for release, mmm… yes. I love to listen to a man cum.
I stood up. Looking at my two boys, I instructed them both to slowly stroke. I began to very slowly remove my own clothing. I could hear their gasps. They feasted their eyes on my naked body, excited by the unexpected treat and stroked faster. I sat on the edge of the couch in front of my two boys and spread my legs wide, pulling my lips open to show the pink of my clit. Their moans became audible. Gone was the apprehensiveness and competitive posturing between the boys. They were already losing their aversion to “playing” close to another man. All of their attention was focused on me.
I began to touch my little bud, making circles and voicing my approval of them, of my own pleasure. I was so freaking turned on by hearing two boys at the same time growing hot, their moans escaping their lips. The sounds they made obviously excited each other to even greater arousal. Ian came quickly, exploding in a loud rush. Ash’s voice was becoming more ragged. He soon begged to be allowed to insert his butt plug, cursing as it pushed past his small ass hole. Ian, not even close to being spent was hammering away at his stiff cock again. He obviously wasn’t going to waste a moment at being allowed this “treat.” When the session finished, Ian had cum twice more by the time that Ash came hard in ragged and shuddering moans.
That was the only time I ever allowed the boys to cum while watching me. In the days that followed, I would occasionally enter the room to find them both there, chatting and joking around. The shared experience made a difference for them, and eased my mind about having the boys together. I still think of that night and confess that hearing them both was an experience I won’t forget.
Confession - Rocksie
I arrived home from work tired, yet restless. I was ready to relax, forget the hassles of the day and focus my attention on my boys. Yes, I am a woman that wants and needs more than one boy. I wonder at that some nights. Why do I want this? Why is this important? I have a real life husband that I am happy with. I have a virtual husband that I am happy with. Both are dominant yet equal partners in my life. But that’s not enough to “complete” me. I need my boys.
As I sat down on the couch I heard those lovely words I wait for every night, “Hello Mistress.” “Come up stairs Ash” I called to him. I heard his cage door open and a minute later he entered the room and kneeled before me. He is a small man, attentive, very submissive, and truly wants my happiness. He’s my sweet heart. A moment later I was surprised to hear a deep, strong, commanding voice, “Hello Mistress.” My other boy had arrived. The two boys are from different Countries, their time with me rarely overlaps. Ian had been a Master in real life for 18 years and is exploring the submissive side of himself. He is a constant struggle to deal with.
I have to confess, I felt a moment of panic. How was I to deal with both of them at the same time? Two boys that had adamantly stated to me that they do not want to “play” with other men, and have such different needs and personalities. Yes, they would do as I say because I am their Mistress. But I was in the mood for mutual enjoyment that night, not more hassles.
I called to Ian, “Come up stairs boy.” He arrived and kneeled next to Ash. I could feel the tension in the air. Ash was apprehensive about Ian being there. Ian was feeling territorial and competitive. I looked them both over in silence while I lounged on the large couch. In a commanding tone, I told them both to strip! Ash and Ian both replied “yes Mistress.” They quickly shed their clothing. I was beginning to enjoy this.
I have another confession. I love to hear a man cum. I adore it! Crave it! To hear their breathing become more ragged, the quiver in the voice, the groans and even growls that seem to surge up from their very souls. I love to hear the moan and quiet cursing of a large butt plug or vibrator being inserted. Then listening to the rise in voice pitch as they become more urgent, begging to be allowed to cum. Hearing their cries pleading for release, mmm… yes. I love to listen to a man cum.
I stood up. Looking at my two boys, I instructed them both to slowly stroke. I began to very slowly remove my own clothing. I could hear their gasps. They feasted their eyes on my naked body, excited by the unexpected treat and stroked faster. I sat on the edge of the couch in front of my two boys and spread my legs wide, pulling my lips open to show the pink of my clit. Their moans became audible. Gone was the apprehensiveness and competitive posturing between the boys. They were already losing their aversion to “playing” close to another man. All of their attention was focused on me.
I began to touch my little bud, making circles and voicing my approval of them, of my own pleasure. I was so freaking turned on by hearing two boys at the same time growing hot, their moans escaping their lips. The sounds they made obviously excited each other to even greater arousal. Ian came quickly, exploding in a loud rush. Ash’s voice was becoming more ragged. He soon begged to be allowed to insert his butt plug, cursing as it pushed past his small ass hole. Ian, not even close to being spent was hammering away at his stiff cock again. He obviously wasn’t going to waste a moment at being allowed this “treat.” When the session finished, Ian had cum twice more by the time that Ash came hard in ragged and shuddering moans.
That was the only time I ever allowed the boys to cum while watching me. In the days that followed, I would occasionally enter the room to find them both there, chatting and joking around. The shared experience made a difference for them, and eased my mind about having the boys together. I still think of that night and confess that hearing them both was an experience I won’t forget.
As I sat down on the couch I heard those lovely words I wait for every night, “Hello Mistress.” “Come up stairs Ash” I called to him. I heard his cage door open and a minute later he entered the room and kneeled before me. He is a small man, attentive, very submissive, and truly wants my happiness. He’s my sweet heart. A moment later I was surprised to hear a deep, strong, commanding voice, “Hello Mistress.” My other boy had arrived. The two boys are from different Countries, their time with me rarely overlaps. Ian had been a Master in real life for 18 years and is exploring the submissive side of himself. He is a constant struggle to deal with.
I have to confess, I felt a moment of panic. How was I to deal with both of them at the same time? Two boys that had adamantly stated to me that they do not want to “play” with other men, and have such different needs and personalities. Yes, they would do as I say because I am their Mistress. But I was in the mood for mutual enjoyment that night, not more hassles.
I called to Ian, “Come up stairs boy.” He arrived and kneeled next to Ash. I could feel the tension in the air. Ash was apprehensive about Ian being there. Ian was feeling territorial and competitive. I looked them both over in silence while I lounged on the large couch. In a commanding tone, I told them both to strip! Ash and Ian both replied “yes Mistress.” They quickly shed their clothing. I was beginning to enjoy this.
I have another confession. I love to hear a man cum. I adore it! Crave it! To hear their breathing become more ragged, the quiver in the voice, the groans and even growls that seem to surge up from their very souls. I love to hear the moan and quiet cursing of a large butt plug or vibrator being inserted. Then listening to the rise in voice pitch as they become more urgent, begging to be allowed to cum. Hearing their cries pleading for release, mmm… yes. I love to listen to a man cum.
I stood up. Looking at my two boys, I instructed them both to slowly stroke. I began to very slowly remove my own clothing. I could hear their gasps. They feasted their eyes on my naked body, excited by the unexpected treat and stroked faster. I sat on the edge of the couch in front of my two boys and spread my legs wide, pulling my lips open to show the pink of my clit. Their moans became audible. Gone was the apprehensiveness and competitive posturing between the boys. They were already losing their aversion to “playing” close to another man. All of their attention was focused on me.
I began to touch my little bud, making circles and voicing my approval of them, of my own pleasure. I was so freaking turned on by hearing two boys at the same time growing hot, their moans escaping their lips. The sounds they made obviously excited each other to even greater arousal. Ian came quickly, exploding in a loud rush. Ash’s voice was becoming more ragged. He soon begged to be allowed to insert his butt plug, cursing as it pushed past his small ass hole. Ian, not even close to being spent was hammering away at his stiff cock again. He obviously wasn’t going to waste a moment at being allowed this “treat.” When the session finished, Ian had cum twice more by the time that Ash came hard in ragged and shuddering moans.
That was the only time I ever allowed the boys to cum while watching me. In the days that followed, I would occasionally enter the room to find them both there, chatting and joking around. The shared experience made a difference for them, and eased my mind about having the boys together. I still think of that night and confess that hearing them both was an experience I won’t forget.
Confession - Rocksie
I arrived home from work tired, yet restless. I was ready to relax, forget the hassles of the day and focus my attention on my boys. Yes, I am a woman that wants and needs more than one boy. I wonder at that some nights. Why do I want this? Why is this important? I have a real life husband that I am happy with. I have a virtual husband that I am happy with. Both are dominant yet equal partners in my life. But that’s not enough to “complete” me. I need my boys.
As I sat down on the couch I heard those lovely words I wait for every night, “Hello Mistress.” “Come up stairs Ash” I called to him. I heard his cage door open and a minute later he entered the room and kneeled before me. He is a small man, attentive, very submissive, and truly wants my happiness. He’s my sweet heart. A moment later I was surprised to hear a deep, strong, commanding voice, “Hello Mistress.” My other boy had arrived. The two boys are from different Countries, their time with me rarely overlaps. Ian had been a Master in real life for 18 years and is exploring the submissive side of himself. He is a constant struggle to deal with.
I have to confess, I felt a moment of panic. How was I to deal with both of them at the same time? Two boys that had adamantly stated to me that they do not want to “play” with other men, and have such different needs and personalities. Yes, they would do as I say because I am their Mistress. But I was in the mood for mutual enjoyment that night, not more hassles.
I called to Ian, “Come up stairs boy.” He arrived and kneeled next to Ash. I could feel the tension in the air. Ash was apprehensive about Ian being there. Ian was feeling territorial and competitive. I looked them both over in silence while I lounged on the large couch. In a commanding tone, I told them both to strip! Ash and Ian both replied “yes Mistress.” They quickly shed their clothing. I was beginning to enjoy this.
I have another confession. I love to hear a man cum. I adore it! Crave it! To hear their breathing become more ragged, the quiver in the voice, the groans and even growls that seem to surge up from their very souls. I love to hear the moan and quiet cursing of a large butt plug or vibrator being inserted. Then listening to the rise in voice pitch as they become more urgent, begging to be allowed to cum. Hearing their cries pleading for release, mmm… yes. I love to listen to a man cum.
I stood up. Looking at my two boys, I instructed them both to slowly stroke. I began to very slowly remove my own clothing. I could hear their gasps. They feasted their eyes on my naked body, excited by the unexpected treat and stroked faster. I sat on the edge of the couch in front of my two boys and spread my legs wide, pulling my lips open to show the pink of my clit. Their moans became audible. Gone was the apprehensiveness and competitive posturing between the boys. They were already losing their aversion to “playing” close to another man. All of their attention was focused on me.
I began to touch my little bud, making circles and voicing my approval of them, of my own pleasure. I was so freaking turned on by hearing two boys at the same time growing hot, their moans escaping their lips. The sounds they made obviously excited each other to even greater arousal. Ian came quickly, exploding in a loud rush. Ash’s voice was becoming more ragged. He soon begged to be allowed to insert his butt plug, cursing as it pushed past his small ass hole. Ian, not even close to being spent was hammering away at his stiff cock again. He obviously wasn’t going to waste a moment at being allowed this “treat.” When the session finished, Ian had cum twice more by the time that Ash came hard in ragged and shuddering moans.
That was the only time I ever allowed the boys to cum while watching me. In the days that followed, I would occasionally enter the room to find them both there, chatting and joking around. The shared experience made a difference for them, and eased my mind about having the boys together. I still think of that night and confess that hearing them both was an experience I won’t forget.
As I sat down on the couch I heard those lovely words I wait for every night, “Hello Mistress.” “Come up stairs Ash” I called to him. I heard his cage door open and a minute later he entered the room and kneeled before me. He is a small man, attentive, very submissive, and truly wants my happiness. He’s my sweet heart. A moment later I was surprised to hear a deep, strong, commanding voice, “Hello Mistress.” My other boy had arrived. The two boys are from different Countries, their time with me rarely overlaps. Ian had been a Master in real life for 18 years and is exploring the submissive side of himself. He is a constant struggle to deal with.
I have to confess, I felt a moment of panic. How was I to deal with both of them at the same time? Two boys that had adamantly stated to me that they do not want to “play” with other men, and have such different needs and personalities. Yes, they would do as I say because I am their Mistress. But I was in the mood for mutual enjoyment that night, not more hassles.
I called to Ian, “Come up stairs boy.” He arrived and kneeled next to Ash. I could feel the tension in the air. Ash was apprehensive about Ian being there. Ian was feeling territorial and competitive. I looked them both over in silence while I lounged on the large couch. In a commanding tone, I told them both to strip! Ash and Ian both replied “yes Mistress.” They quickly shed their clothing. I was beginning to enjoy this.
I have another confession. I love to hear a man cum. I adore it! Crave it! To hear their breathing become more ragged, the quiver in the voice, the groans and even growls that seem to surge up from their very souls. I love to hear the moan and quiet cursing of a large butt plug or vibrator being inserted. Then listening to the rise in voice pitch as they become more urgent, begging to be allowed to cum. Hearing their cries pleading for release, mmm… yes. I love to listen to a man cum.
I stood up. Looking at my two boys, I instructed them both to slowly stroke. I began to very slowly remove my own clothing. I could hear their gasps. They feasted their eyes on my naked body, excited by the unexpected treat and stroked faster. I sat on the edge of the couch in front of my two boys and spread my legs wide, pulling my lips open to show the pink of my clit. Their moans became audible. Gone was the apprehensiveness and competitive posturing between the boys. They were already losing their aversion to “playing” close to another man. All of their attention was focused on me.
I began to touch my little bud, making circles and voicing my approval of them, of my own pleasure. I was so freaking turned on by hearing two boys at the same time growing hot, their moans escaping their lips. The sounds they made obviously excited each other to even greater arousal. Ian came quickly, exploding in a loud rush. Ash’s voice was becoming more ragged. He soon begged to be allowed to insert his butt plug, cursing as it pushed past his small ass hole. Ian, not even close to being spent was hammering away at his stiff cock again. He obviously wasn’t going to waste a moment at being allowed this “treat.” When the session finished, Ian had cum twice more by the time that Ash came hard in ragged and shuddering moans.
That was the only time I ever allowed the boys to cum while watching me. In the days that followed, I would occasionally enter the room to find them both there, chatting and joking around. The shared experience made a difference for them, and eased my mind about having the boys together. I still think of that night and confess that hearing them both was an experience I won’t forget.
The Temple - Gregie
The Temple
The entry was dark, hidden and forbidden.
He knew he shouldn't go there.
The invitation was obvious, irresistible.
The forbidden fruit, the knowledge of good and evil.
Entry looked impossible, though down a smooth, downy path.
He wouldn't fit. He would have to squeeze.
The slightest sheen on the walls was deceptive.
It proved incredibly slippery. It mixed with the sweat from his head.
His immediate fear was that escape would be impossible.
Come in it said, the lips whispering softly, seductively.
Come in. The world undulating, drawing him.
The sheen, the sweat, the synergy.
He probed the ring of the entrance.
It was soft, moist, welcoming
He pushed, timidly.
He quickly slid into the void.
Enveloped. Rapt.
Held tightly in cloud silky softness.
His world expanded.
He was on fire, the heat bringing him to a boil.
Heat, searing the rocks of his walls.
He screamed as the burning built, lava flowing from his center.
In an instant it spread though him, his veins, his heart, his soul.
The length and breadth of him.
He felt the ring tighten around him.
He was helpless, bound.
He cried for mercy, for release.
The ring tightened more, claiming him,
A collar around him.
"You are mine," the lips said.
Bow. I will give you release.
He had no choice.
The bowing was reflexive.
Immediately everything rose.
The roof of the tunnel massaged him.
The floor shook and sucked at him, drawing him to its depths.
The ring of the entrance spasmed.
Every ounce of his being was sucked from him in glorious ecstatic bursts.
He was claimed.
He no longer owned himself.
The entrance relaxed.
The lips smiled. They released him.
He no longer wanted release.
"I can have you any time I want you," they whispered.
He knew they were right.
The entry was dark, hidden and forbidden.
He knew he shouldn't go there.
The invitation was obvious, irresistible.
The forbidden fruit, the knowledge of good and evil.
Entry looked impossible, though down a smooth, downy path.
He wouldn't fit. He would have to squeeze.
The slightest sheen on the walls was deceptive.
It proved incredibly slippery. It mixed with the sweat from his head.
His immediate fear was that escape would be impossible.
Come in it said, the lips whispering softly, seductively.
Come in. The world undulating, drawing him.
The sheen, the sweat, the synergy.
He probed the ring of the entrance.
It was soft, moist, welcoming
He pushed, timidly.
He quickly slid into the void.
Enveloped. Rapt.
Held tightly in cloud silky softness.
His world expanded.
He was on fire, the heat bringing him to a boil.
Heat, searing the rocks of his walls.
He screamed as the burning built, lava flowing from his center.
In an instant it spread though him, his veins, his heart, his soul.
The length and breadth of him.
He felt the ring tighten around him.
He was helpless, bound.
He cried for mercy, for release.
The ring tightened more, claiming him,
A collar around him.
"You are mine," the lips said.
Bow. I will give you release.
He had no choice.
The bowing was reflexive.
Immediately everything rose.
The roof of the tunnel massaged him.
The floor shook and sucked at him, drawing him to its depths.
The ring of the entrance spasmed.
Every ounce of his being was sucked from him in glorious ecstatic bursts.
He was claimed.
He no longer owned himself.
The entrance relaxed.
The lips smiled. They released him.
He no longer wanted release.
"I can have you any time I want you," they whispered.
He knew they were right.
Miss Zarita's take-away - Bryn
==Miss Zarita's takeaway==
Confession: when we played "Truth and Dare" I was asked what fantasies I had about a mistress from Dominion. I replied that I had none. I felt it was true when I said it - I was thinking of recurrent detailed fantasies. As I reflected I realized that I had many, many fantasies, but they were fleeting - partly because I didn't want to get fixated on any mistress who might not be interested, and partly because I am not that sort of fox. I would much rather do stuff than think about it. I have never stayed in one place as long as I have at Dominion, except when I was grounded for a day, and even then I finished making an elevator. I love elevators. Anyway Miss Zarita had said a few minutes earlier she would like to take a straight boy home and have him taken care of by two other boys. I wished it was me she was taking - this story is based on that fantasy, and told from a human point of view, but not the viewpoint of the take-away. I have put bad words in because I know humans use them a lot, and a lot of "cock"s because Miss Zarita likes that in a story, and I couldn't get more than a couple of "bulge"s in.
* * *
Just as I was about to come the mobile phone rang and Curt removed his hand from my cock, picking the device up and pressing buttons announced " Miss Zarita has takeout." Curt has a clipped almost Austrian accent muddied with a ladling of Aussie, although I sometimes think it is put-on, at Miss Zarita's request, no doubt.
Curt is without doubt my curse and my savior. While I am, I might say modestly, the sort of guy that always gets a second look from the ladies, clean cut, above average height, good bearing, blue-green eyes, well built, Curt, is the sort of guy that causes shoppers to collide their carts, sends the attendance figures at ER sky-high as women and gay men report in with cricked necks, in social situations it seems like hostesses leave the room to get nibbles, and their eyes stay behind, admiring his perfect face, his immaculate hair , his sharp suit, provided by Miss Zarita, or if it's one of "those" events his chiseled muscles, and the substantial bulge in his tight silk thong. Speaking of his bulge...
I gasped a little, from that odd sense of loss I am starting to feel when Curt pulls his cock out of me. I am straight as they come - but nearly a year of belonging to Miss Zarita has taught me to appreciate something in my tailhole in a way that probably comes naturally to Curt (who is 100 percent gay - but belongs 100% to Miss Zarita - go figure as they say) and we went to get ready for Miss Zariat'a return, expecting that the moussaka we made will not be gracing her palate, we clean up and dress, returning the unopened red wine to the cellar and preparing the wet bar, Miss Zarita likes to have martinis for her guests, her one fault is to believe that these somehow represent a form of sophistication.... When I say dressed, perhaps I should describe our uniform, in order not to give the wrong impression. We wear starched white collars and cuffs with silk bow ties, black silk socks and highly shined patent leather shoes, white silk gloves and trouser turn-ups. Everything else from ankle to wrist is on full display, and in Curt's case oiled. (My physique doesn't merit oiling and is on display to throw Curt's into relief... I could have muscles like his, but I am forbidden from spending more than fifteen minutes in the gym, and compelled to eat always just that little more than I want to keep my outline a little "soft".) So we were soon prepared for Miss to arrive home, and standing in the hallway to greet her and any guest, we expected a five to ten minute wait, but Miss Zarita drives extremely fast, and it pays to be prepared. I idled the time by watching the reflection of Curt's cock in the hall mirror, pulsing and growing a little stiffer then relaxing again and wonder what he is thinking.
A screech of brakes announced Miss Zarita's arrival home, as always, and Curt opened the door, she entered in company with a man, probably in his late thirties, with that look of very-senior-manager about him, wearing an expensive but not particularly well suited suit - Miss is on a manager kick right now, which I thought would be a relief from the "surfer dudes" - but in a way I'd rather she went back, they have more open characters, and are better tanned. "This is Martin, boys, Sir to you." she said in that classic Aussie drawl of hers, which gets me hard if I don't watch it. "And these are my boys, Curt with the big cock and Bryn with the small one." (When I was new I challenged this "small cock" business , having thought I was at least average. Apparently the average cock size is 6 1/2 inches. My cock is exactly 6 and 3/8 inches - I am certain of that because I have to measure it every day and write the result in a book on the hall table. Miss Zarita's Dominion friends love it. "Oh how's Bryn's cock today? they will ask " Hmm still small I see.... " - it's 1/8 of an inch difference Miss Destiny! .. oh well looks like I am stuck with that. So to speak.)
Martin (or "Sir" to us) stands there his mouth slightly agape for a moment, before spluttering "But they are naked!", Miss Zarita smiles a small moue of a smile, loving his discomfort.
"Yes Martin, I like to keep some cock on display, but tonight I want to get to know yours better." I took her wrap, while Martin reluctantly surrendered his coat to Curt, and allowed himself to be lead into the lounge area. "And besides one cock isn't always enough - I take it you aren't shy?" she trailed her fingers across his bulge "sit on the love-seat with me..." Martin has little choice but to sit on the double leather recliner, alongside Miss Zarita, who flicked some cunningly concealed fastener and transformed her respectable, but hot, outfit into something verging on catwalk material, as Curt and and I approached with the obligatory Martinis, Curt thickening up just a trifle to the trained eye. The couple took the drinks and drained them quickly, Mizz Zarita smooching up to Martin in a most un-mistress-like manner, while we boys kept our faces impassive, though we knew it wasn't just the *sight* of our cocks Martin would have before the night was out. Slowly Martins side of the chair slipped into recline mode under the almost combined weight of the two - and Miss Zarita went husky voiced on him her hand no longer massaging his bulge but starting to unzip him, fingers slipping inside, exploring, no doubt she was tugging his underwear to one side, or down. "Maybe a little blow-job to warm you up?" Her head moved down, Martin had obviously overcome his shyness at any rate, although he couldn't see Curt who had moved off to dim the lights a little, or me - as I was now kneeling close to his knees obscured, if he had tried to sit up, by Mistresses head. She tugged him free, pulling a fair sized uncut cock from the smart suit and tilting it up towards me, my head moved forward into the required position, I flicked my tongue across the tip of his cock a couple of times and again as Miss drew the skin back and forth and then my lips opened to take him into my mouth. His cock was salty and that was a relief, his type aren't always quite so innocuous tasting, often they either something going at the office or are just slobs. I ran my tongue around the glans, tickling the frenulum, teasing, another skill Curt has taught me, bringing him swiftly, so swiftly to the brink, and holding him there, as I do with Curt (since he is forbidden to cum) and as Curt never does to me, (since I am under a different regime entirely), Mistress guided his cock with one hand and undid his belt with the other. While I kept him hovering on the edge of orgasm (definitely not been serviced for a while I think) Miss moves her head back and asked, so innocently, if he was enjoying himself.
I wish I had seen the look on his face as he realized that it was not Miss Zarita who was servicing him, but one of the boys, I heard him gasp and felt him struggle to sit upright but Miss was reaching under the seat and releasing the catch, Curt's strong hands were on his shoulders and the seat moved from merely reclined to horizontal, the headrest moving back even further and Curt's glans was pressing against his lips. He said nothing keeping his mouth firmly closed. Miss's eyes lit up at this and she reached once again under the seat - Velcro is a wonderful thing ladies - and pulled out with a slight ripping sound her number two quirt - a real stinger, although I don't feel it often, my punishments are delegated to Curt, and I get the raw end of the deal on that. "Some people think it's OK to take and not give." she said, eyes sparkling, despite the low lighting. "Once chance Martin.. open up." The poor boy had no idea what his choice is and kept his jaw clenched, Miss nodded to me once and I moved back pulling his pants and underpants to his ankles in one movement then using them to push his ankles up to Curt's waiting iron grasp. Even as we make the maneuver, exposing his smooth skinned ass and finely haired legs, Miss Zarita's quirt comes down, the tip landing half a centimeter below his asshole. Of course Martin let out a yell, or started to as Curt's sizable cock slammed unerringly into his mouth and Miss took another swipe at his ass for sheer pleasure, then nodded at me once again. I moved forward, placing the tip of my cock against his tailhole and pushed hard, giving him no mercy, not wanting one of Miss Zarita's "hurry up" messages myself, feeling his tight sphincter give to the pressure and expand around me, my cock burying itself deep within. I groaned, as the tightness forced an immediate cum out of me, making the sub-vocal noises I had been trained to make, but pulling back immediately and starting to thrust - cumming is not an excuse for boys to stop fucking. "Oh Bryn already? What's today's score Curt?" she asks giving me a tap with her quirt, that translates to pleased affection.
"Eight-nil My Mistress" - referring to my cums and his, the high number AND the low reflecting well on us both, since we are under different regimes.
"Good boys." she replied conversationally, as if we weren't "spit roasting" a straight guy she picked up, maybe half an hour ago while she looked on with approval.
Just then the mobile beeped again. Curt, holding Martin's ankles with one hand reached over and thumbed it off without looking. "Reminder to leave for Confessions My Mistress." (I am not allowed to call her that.) And Miss Zarita stands, looking down at the boy, giving a quick flick of her quirt to his but cheek. Of course Miss and Curt both knew that she was due out, and as usual it's a total surprise to me.
"Well I'll be two hours boy's so change ends in an hour... " She looked down thoughtfully then shook her head " I won't be using this one you can let him come if you want." I was delighted, it's not often I get to actually have my cock come in anything other than Curt's hand, and even though I'm straight, two hours of fucking is a treat, whoever is taking me. Even better since on Confession nights Miss rarely comes home alone, letting herself in and we hear her bedroom door slam, and learn nothing about what happens except what we glean from the cleaning chores the following morning, and her customary injunction not "to mention anything you saw and heard last night to anyone from The Dominion, especially Miss Beaver."
"Yes Mistress" I said and Curt's voice echoed Yes My Mistress."
As Miss swirled out of the front door, snatching her purse from the table and clipping up her gown in one smooth movement, I plunged my cock again and again deep into the take-away's body, approaching my ninth orgasm of the day and, hearing him moan in a mixture of pain and humiliation, and maybe a little lust, I reflected that, at least for tonight, there is one person who doesn't think six and three eighths is "small".
Confession: when we played "Truth and Dare" I was asked what fantasies I had about a mistress from Dominion. I replied that I had none. I felt it was true when I said it - I was thinking of recurrent detailed fantasies. As I reflected I realized that I had many, many fantasies, but they were fleeting - partly because I didn't want to get fixated on any mistress who might not be interested, and partly because I am not that sort of fox. I would much rather do stuff than think about it. I have never stayed in one place as long as I have at Dominion, except when I was grounded for a day, and even then I finished making an elevator. I love elevators. Anyway Miss Zarita had said a few minutes earlier she would like to take a straight boy home and have him taken care of by two other boys. I wished it was me she was taking - this story is based on that fantasy, and told from a human point of view, but not the viewpoint of the take-away. I have put bad words in because I know humans use them a lot, and a lot of "cock"s because Miss Zarita likes that in a story, and I couldn't get more than a couple of "bulge"s in.
* * *
Just as I was about to come the mobile phone rang and Curt removed his hand from my cock, picking the device up and pressing buttons announced " Miss Zarita has takeout." Curt has a clipped almost Austrian accent muddied with a ladling of Aussie, although I sometimes think it is put-on, at Miss Zarita's request, no doubt.
Curt is without doubt my curse and my savior. While I am, I might say modestly, the sort of guy that always gets a second look from the ladies, clean cut, above average height, good bearing, blue-green eyes, well built, Curt, is the sort of guy that causes shoppers to collide their carts, sends the attendance figures at ER sky-high as women and gay men report in with cricked necks, in social situations it seems like hostesses leave the room to get nibbles, and their eyes stay behind, admiring his perfect face, his immaculate hair , his sharp suit, provided by Miss Zarita, or if it's one of "those" events his chiseled muscles, and the substantial bulge in his tight silk thong. Speaking of his bulge...
I gasped a little, from that odd sense of loss I am starting to feel when Curt pulls his cock out of me. I am straight as they come - but nearly a year of belonging to Miss Zarita has taught me to appreciate something in my tailhole in a way that probably comes naturally to Curt (who is 100 percent gay - but belongs 100% to Miss Zarita - go figure as they say) and we went to get ready for Miss Zariat'a return, expecting that the moussaka we made will not be gracing her palate, we clean up and dress, returning the unopened red wine to the cellar and preparing the wet bar, Miss Zarita likes to have martinis for her guests, her one fault is to believe that these somehow represent a form of sophistication.... When I say dressed, perhaps I should describe our uniform, in order not to give the wrong impression. We wear starched white collars and cuffs with silk bow ties, black silk socks and highly shined patent leather shoes, white silk gloves and trouser turn-ups. Everything else from ankle to wrist is on full display, and in Curt's case oiled. (My physique doesn't merit oiling and is on display to throw Curt's into relief... I could have muscles like his, but I am forbidden from spending more than fifteen minutes in the gym, and compelled to eat always just that little more than I want to keep my outline a little "soft".) So we were soon prepared for Miss to arrive home, and standing in the hallway to greet her and any guest, we expected a five to ten minute wait, but Miss Zarita drives extremely fast, and it pays to be prepared. I idled the time by watching the reflection of Curt's cock in the hall mirror, pulsing and growing a little stiffer then relaxing again and wonder what he is thinking.
A screech of brakes announced Miss Zarita's arrival home, as always, and Curt opened the door, she entered in company with a man, probably in his late thirties, with that look of very-senior-manager about him, wearing an expensive but not particularly well suited suit - Miss is on a manager kick right now, which I thought would be a relief from the "surfer dudes" - but in a way I'd rather she went back, they have more open characters, and are better tanned. "This is Martin, boys, Sir to you." she said in that classic Aussie drawl of hers, which gets me hard if I don't watch it. "And these are my boys, Curt with the big cock and Bryn with the small one." (When I was new I challenged this "small cock" business , having thought I was at least average. Apparently the average cock size is 6 1/2 inches. My cock is exactly 6 and 3/8 inches - I am certain of that because I have to measure it every day and write the result in a book on the hall table. Miss Zarita's Dominion friends love it. "Oh how's Bryn's cock today? they will ask " Hmm still small I see.... " - it's 1/8 of an inch difference Miss Destiny! .. oh well looks like I am stuck with that. So to speak.)
Martin (or "Sir" to us) stands there his mouth slightly agape for a moment, before spluttering "But they are naked!", Miss Zarita smiles a small moue of a smile, loving his discomfort.
"Yes Martin, I like to keep some cock on display, but tonight I want to get to know yours better." I took her wrap, while Martin reluctantly surrendered his coat to Curt, and allowed himself to be lead into the lounge area. "And besides one cock isn't always enough - I take it you aren't shy?" she trailed her fingers across his bulge "sit on the love-seat with me..." Martin has little choice but to sit on the double leather recliner, alongside Miss Zarita, who flicked some cunningly concealed fastener and transformed her respectable, but hot, outfit into something verging on catwalk material, as Curt and and I approached with the obligatory Martinis, Curt thickening up just a trifle to the trained eye. The couple took the drinks and drained them quickly, Mizz Zarita smooching up to Martin in a most un-mistress-like manner, while we boys kept our faces impassive, though we knew it wasn't just the *sight* of our cocks Martin would have before the night was out. Slowly Martins side of the chair slipped into recline mode under the almost combined weight of the two - and Miss Zarita went husky voiced on him her hand no longer massaging his bulge but starting to unzip him, fingers slipping inside, exploring, no doubt she was tugging his underwear to one side, or down. "Maybe a little blow-job to warm you up?" Her head moved down, Martin had obviously overcome his shyness at any rate, although he couldn't see Curt who had moved off to dim the lights a little, or me - as I was now kneeling close to his knees obscured, if he had tried to sit up, by Mistresses head. She tugged him free, pulling a fair sized uncut cock from the smart suit and tilting it up towards me, my head moved forward into the required position, I flicked my tongue across the tip of his cock a couple of times and again as Miss drew the skin back and forth and then my lips opened to take him into my mouth. His cock was salty and that was a relief, his type aren't always quite so innocuous tasting, often they either something going at the office or are just slobs. I ran my tongue around the glans, tickling the frenulum, teasing, another skill Curt has taught me, bringing him swiftly, so swiftly to the brink, and holding him there, as I do with Curt (since he is forbidden to cum) and as Curt never does to me, (since I am under a different regime entirely), Mistress guided his cock with one hand and undid his belt with the other. While I kept him hovering on the edge of orgasm (definitely not been serviced for a while I think) Miss moves her head back and asked, so innocently, if he was enjoying himself.
I wish I had seen the look on his face as he realized that it was not Miss Zarita who was servicing him, but one of the boys, I heard him gasp and felt him struggle to sit upright but Miss was reaching under the seat and releasing the catch, Curt's strong hands were on his shoulders and the seat moved from merely reclined to horizontal, the headrest moving back even further and Curt's glans was pressing against his lips. He said nothing keeping his mouth firmly closed. Miss's eyes lit up at this and she reached once again under the seat - Velcro is a wonderful thing ladies - and pulled out with a slight ripping sound her number two quirt - a real stinger, although I don't feel it often, my punishments are delegated to Curt, and I get the raw end of the deal on that. "Some people think it's OK to take and not give." she said, eyes sparkling, despite the low lighting. "Once chance Martin.. open up." The poor boy had no idea what his choice is and kept his jaw clenched, Miss nodded to me once and I moved back pulling his pants and underpants to his ankles in one movement then using them to push his ankles up to Curt's waiting iron grasp. Even as we make the maneuver, exposing his smooth skinned ass and finely haired legs, Miss Zarita's quirt comes down, the tip landing half a centimeter below his asshole. Of course Martin let out a yell, or started to as Curt's sizable cock slammed unerringly into his mouth and Miss took another swipe at his ass for sheer pleasure, then nodded at me once again. I moved forward, placing the tip of my cock against his tailhole and pushed hard, giving him no mercy, not wanting one of Miss Zarita's "hurry up" messages myself, feeling his tight sphincter give to the pressure and expand around me, my cock burying itself deep within. I groaned, as the tightness forced an immediate cum out of me, making the sub-vocal noises I had been trained to make, but pulling back immediately and starting to thrust - cumming is not an excuse for boys to stop fucking. "Oh Bryn already? What's today's score Curt?" she asks giving me a tap with her quirt, that translates to pleased affection.
"Eight-nil My Mistress" - referring to my cums and his, the high number AND the low reflecting well on us both, since we are under different regimes.
"Good boys." she replied conversationally, as if we weren't "spit roasting" a straight guy she picked up, maybe half an hour ago while she looked on with approval.
Just then the mobile beeped again. Curt, holding Martin's ankles with one hand reached over and thumbed it off without looking. "Reminder to leave for Confessions My Mistress." (I am not allowed to call her that.) And Miss Zarita stands, looking down at the boy, giving a quick flick of her quirt to his but cheek. Of course Miss and Curt both knew that she was due out, and as usual it's a total surprise to me.
"Well I'll be two hours boy's so change ends in an hour... " She looked down thoughtfully then shook her head " I won't be using this one you can let him come if you want." I was delighted, it's not often I get to actually have my cock come in anything other than Curt's hand, and even though I'm straight, two hours of fucking is a treat, whoever is taking me. Even better since on Confession nights Miss rarely comes home alone, letting herself in and we hear her bedroom door slam, and learn nothing about what happens except what we glean from the cleaning chores the following morning, and her customary injunction not "to mention anything you saw and heard last night to anyone from The Dominion, especially Miss Beaver."
"Yes Mistress" I said and Curt's voice echoed Yes My Mistress."
As Miss swirled out of the front door, snatching her purse from the table and clipping up her gown in one smooth movement, I plunged my cock again and again deep into the take-away's body, approaching my ninth orgasm of the day and, hearing him moan in a mixture of pain and humiliation, and maybe a little lust, I reflected that, at least for tonight, there is one person who doesn't think six and three eighths is "small".
'Fearful' - Tehgan
This is a confession about fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the known. Fear of the known becoming overwhelming and overtaking. The recent Black and Blue Munch touched up on the topic which made me think about it well after it was over. We are quick to think of fear in the terms of submissives and how the dominant will handle him or her, but we didn't address the fear a dominant might have.
Fear – a noun defined by many ways but the one definition which hits me is:
a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is
real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.
As a dominant it's almost expected to be in complete control of our emotions ... and fears. When we show fear it's perceived as a weakness or a flaw in our dominance. If we give the slightest indication that something brings out an apprehension or if it causes us to take a cautious step back, it's misunderstood that we might not have the emotional strength to take the task on.
This is my accountability to my fear of fear. How it can freeze me in place when I don't know how to deal with it when its icy claws take over my mind.
They say facing your fears will help you resolve them. I also have a fear of heights but even though I've never jumped out of a plane I can tell you that no number of jumps will cure that fear; and in fact, will only scare the shit out of me more and will help the fear take deeper roots within me.
This is fear making a statement through me and to you. How it will creep around the edges of my perfectly calm sanity waiting for a moment to pounce and make a complete chaotic mess of my world.
It freezes me emotionally.
It shatters dreams and aspirations I have.
It breaks me down and leaves me huddled while I cry in heart-wrenched sobs.
If fear were a sub I could handle it better. There's no end to the tools and tactics to confront it and humble it into submission; breaking its iron will into fragile glass-like shards where I would stomp on them and watch them crumble into dust.
I give fear too much power over me. It controls when I can open up to someone. I will control if I let them get to know me too much. It helps me to pull back and reserve a part of me that is the most vulnerable in protection of it. It keeps me from taking another risk or chance. If I could just tell it to stop then I could ignore it.
Conquer – a verb again defined by many ways but the most fitting for me is:
to gain a victory over; surmount; master; overcome: to conquer disease and poverty;
to conquer one's fear.
Fear – a noun defined by many ways but the one definition which hits me is:
a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is
real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.
As a dominant it's almost expected to be in complete control of our emotions ... and fears. When we show fear it's perceived as a weakness or a flaw in our dominance. If we give the slightest indication that something brings out an apprehension or if it causes us to take a cautious step back, it's misunderstood that we might not have the emotional strength to take the task on.
This is my accountability to my fear of fear. How it can freeze me in place when I don't know how to deal with it when its icy claws take over my mind.
They say facing your fears will help you resolve them. I also have a fear of heights but even though I've never jumped out of a plane I can tell you that no number of jumps will cure that fear; and in fact, will only scare the shit out of me more and will help the fear take deeper roots within me.
This is fear making a statement through me and to you. How it will creep around the edges of my perfectly calm sanity waiting for a moment to pounce and make a complete chaotic mess of my world.
It freezes me emotionally.
It shatters dreams and aspirations I have.
It breaks me down and leaves me huddled while I cry in heart-wrenched sobs.
If fear were a sub I could handle it better. There's no end to the tools and tactics to confront it and humble it into submission; breaking its iron will into fragile glass-like shards where I would stomp on them and watch them crumble into dust.
I give fear too much power over me. It controls when I can open up to someone. I will control if I let them get to know me too much. It helps me to pull back and reserve a part of me that is the most vulnerable in protection of it. It keeps me from taking another risk or chance. If I could just tell it to stop then I could ignore it.
Conquer – a verb again defined by many ways but the most fitting for me is:
to gain a victory over; surmount; master; overcome: to conquer disease and poverty;
to conquer one's fear.
The Headless Tiny (part 1) - Eroyan
The Tale of the Headless Tiny
By: Eroyan Barmy
You might think me mad as I speak these words. But I assure you I am not, for I am one who is in their right mind most assuredly. Could an insane person be able to recall with ever present detail the horrors of the night? Or could they possibly be able, with shuddering clarity remember the sounds and smells of an evening so vividly, that they must remind themselves they are not still there as it happens? What I tell you now; I tell all of our kind for we are not alone in this world. There are horrors so dreadful that to merely see them would drive a person to commit such acts that they would no longer be human.
It was October 1832 and a chill evening. The harvest mood was large and high in the night sky when we first found the body of George Lancaster. We would not, could not, let any of the women folk have a look upon him for it was a most gruesome sight to behold. His body was laid out in his cornfield as if he had been running for his life. His body was broken as if trampled by something but no marks could be found anywhere around him of the creature that could have done such a thing. What is worse was, whatever had done it had neatly removed poor George’s head and there at the top of the neck sat a pumpkin with a most evil face carved into it.
We summoned the sheriff and the doctor from town, Bill Peters even got the parson to come out. None of us could determine what had happened to George and began to grow nervous. If an animal hadn’t done this to George it must have been a man. But none of us knew who would hold a grudge against George he was an honest and fair man with many friends. It was decided that it must be an outsider. Some villain escaped from the city that had happened upon George in his field, killed poor George as he fled for some other murder from the city.
Sure of our-selves in our theory and angered at the sick joke this villain had down with the pumpkin. We gathered ourselves up into a party to find the villain and bring him to justice. In our party was the Sheriff, Bill Peters, Big Henry the Negro who lived down by the river, Justin York and my-self. We left the body in the hands of the doc and the parson to care for George’s body and poor soul and headed through the field towards the gully that ran along George’s farm. We were certain that the villain that had committed this deed would want to remain out of sight and that was the closest way to hide.
We had armed ourselves before we went. The Sherriff and Justin with their rifles and I had my pistol. Bill carried his lantern and stout club and Big Henry carried his axe with him. We moved into the gully by George’s farm and headed away from it. Still no sign of the villain as we moved closer to the woods until Big Henry called out. We nearly all jumped out of our skins, not realizing how quiet we were being till Big Henry called out. Turning he was pointing to something on the ground and looked like he had seen the devil himself for he was staring, eyes wide and looked pale at the ground. Big Henry had begun to jabber on in his native tongue as we moved back to him and looked where he was pointing. The Sheriff was trying to get Big Henry to calm down and talk about what he was seeing. For most of us looked and saw nothing.
Big Henry just pointed and at one point grabbed the Sheriff shaking him and almost yelling in his native tongue. I knew a few of the words he was speaking but it was hard to make sense of it all. Finally the Sheriff shook Big Henry off him and slapped the man, which I never thought I would ever see in my life, Big Henry was a man you didn’t slap but suddenly he blinked and looked at the ground then us. He began jabbering again but we could understand him this time.
By: Eroyan Barmy
You might think me mad as I speak these words. But I assure you I am not, for I am one who is in their right mind most assuredly. Could an insane person be able to recall with ever present detail the horrors of the night? Or could they possibly be able, with shuddering clarity remember the sounds and smells of an evening so vividly, that they must remind themselves they are not still there as it happens? What I tell you now; I tell all of our kind for we are not alone in this world. There are horrors so dreadful that to merely see them would drive a person to commit such acts that they would no longer be human.
It was October 1832 and a chill evening. The harvest mood was large and high in the night sky when we first found the body of George Lancaster. We would not, could not, let any of the women folk have a look upon him for it was a most gruesome sight to behold. His body was laid out in his cornfield as if he had been running for his life. His body was broken as if trampled by something but no marks could be found anywhere around him of the creature that could have done such a thing. What is worse was, whatever had done it had neatly removed poor George’s head and there at the top of the neck sat a pumpkin with a most evil face carved into it.
We summoned the sheriff and the doctor from town, Bill Peters even got the parson to come out. None of us could determine what had happened to George and began to grow nervous. If an animal hadn’t done this to George it must have been a man. But none of us knew who would hold a grudge against George he was an honest and fair man with many friends. It was decided that it must be an outsider. Some villain escaped from the city that had happened upon George in his field, killed poor George as he fled for some other murder from the city.
Sure of our-selves in our theory and angered at the sick joke this villain had down with the pumpkin. We gathered ourselves up into a party to find the villain and bring him to justice. In our party was the Sheriff, Bill Peters, Big Henry the Negro who lived down by the river, Justin York and my-self. We left the body in the hands of the doc and the parson to care for George’s body and poor soul and headed through the field towards the gully that ran along George’s farm. We were certain that the villain that had committed this deed would want to remain out of sight and that was the closest way to hide.
We had armed ourselves before we went. The Sherriff and Justin with their rifles and I had my pistol. Bill carried his lantern and stout club and Big Henry carried his axe with him. We moved into the gully by George’s farm and headed away from it. Still no sign of the villain as we moved closer to the woods until Big Henry called out. We nearly all jumped out of our skins, not realizing how quiet we were being till Big Henry called out. Turning he was pointing to something on the ground and looked like he had seen the devil himself for he was staring, eyes wide and looked pale at the ground. Big Henry had begun to jabber on in his native tongue as we moved back to him and looked where he was pointing. The Sheriff was trying to get Big Henry to calm down and talk about what he was seeing. For most of us looked and saw nothing.
Big Henry just pointed and at one point grabbed the Sheriff shaking him and almost yelling in his native tongue. I knew a few of the words he was speaking but it was hard to make sense of it all. Finally the Sheriff shook Big Henry off him and slapped the man, which I never thought I would ever see in my life, Big Henry was a man you didn’t slap but suddenly he blinked and looked at the ground then us. He began jabbering again but we could understand him this time.
Seraph's Auction
Seraph’s Auction
My first time at the Dominion was not for the auction in which I was stripped naked and put on public display… You may have actually seen me around before… I looked different a few years ago when I first stopped by, my avatar had a few more tattoos and of course, I had clothes on back then. I was one of the lost ones, a wandering male Avatar who came in to the Dominion to look around. I don't know why I was drawn here. I was always intrigued by the ideals of female power and no matter how many dozens of SL sites I explored I would always wander back to the Dominion every week or so to have a look around.
In the early days of my exploration I remember the Dominion as being an odd, strange, and alien landscape full of pathetically kneeling males and unapproachably beautiful women. I never knew what to make of the place, at the time I felt disdain for those poor males who were on their knees all the time and confused arousal towards the women who ruled. I thought about trying to get involved with the Dominion but the idea of kneeling all the time seemed a bit ridiculous to me and yet I had some regrets.
My early days of SL ended after two years. Yes I had made a few long term friends in Second Life but I felt that I was missing something. The vanilla girlfriends I was with before I entered the scene cast me as a dominant and I carried that persona into Second Life. The sexual experiences I had on Second Life began to get dull as the submissive girls that I tended to attract no longer brought any sense of arousal or interest. I thought all sex was losing its appeal to me and I mistakenly believed a break from Second Life was in order. My reemergence into RL brought with it a deeper exploration into the local Philadelphia BDSM scene and a dawning realization of who I was sexually. It took me a while to understand that my disconnect as a dominant-switch was due to the fact that I was only truly happy sexually in those rare times when I was allowed to be submissive.
It took me 36 years before I truly knew and could claim my identity as a sexually submissive male, something that I eventually began to appreciate, accept and take pride in. In RL I had increasingly toppy partners who enjoyed the power that I gave them but something was still missing for me. I needed more than to be topped, but what I yearned for was still vague and elusive.
I cannot say why I was drawn back to Second Life but I as fortune would have it I reentered SL just in time to find my way to a very auspicious action block…
I logged in on one of the rare Saturday’s I have available for SL and was contacted out-of- the-blue by my friend who told me I had 10 minutes to get ready before I was auctioned off at the Dominion. My friend and I had discussed my desire to delve into my submissive side. I thought it was going to be a gradual exploration, I had no idea I was going to be coated with honey and dropped into the thick of it! I had been to a real life slave auctions at the local dungeon and did not think a Second Life one could be much worse… oh how wrong I was…
I didn't know what to expect as I rezzed into the Dominion Auction ground but I began to feel some very real life emotions edging through me as I maneuvered into the beautiful throng of powerful Mistresses and bound submissives on my way to the front of the stage. I was told to strip and take my place hanging with the other cattle like a choice piece of meat at the county fair.
I have no problem being naked in front of groups in real life but when I looked out into the lag generating forces of the Dominion that stared back at me I felt anxiety more powerful than any I had experienced in RL. I am one of the older avatars in the sim and I had never felt real trepidation before, yet hanging naked in front of the Dominion humbled me immensely. I was even more surprised when it was my turn to be bid on.
The throng of attendees had had increased the lag to the point where my avatar was having a very difficult time moving about, I was told to sit on the pedestal. Unable to see anything except what was directly in front of me my avatar kept trying to sit on top of Miss Evangeline's Podium. I remember that I swore at the computer screen as my skin turned a peculiar shade of red. It is normally very difficult to embarrass me but with so many eyes on me, I was failing hard, fortunately my avatar maintained his composure.
My humiliation became more manageable once I was eventually on the pedestal and the attention of the room became more inquisitive. Oddly once I was in place seemed that the ladies where the shy ones as few wanted to speak up and ask me questions. The silence did not last too long as the queries eventually began coming. Soon the ladies of the Dominion where checking my teeth and hind quarters as they had me demonstrate my propensity for moaning loudly and emoting orgasms online.
I must admit to being a bit ignorant of the rules of The Dominion and I made the mistake of addressing a lady improperly. Fortunately for me the woman with sultry voice I had insulted was undaunted by my bad manners and promised to take it out of my ass later. A threat I was grateful she kept when she upped her bid. Moments later the he auction was ended and I was bought and paid for.
I was in a bit of a daze as I made my down from the pedestal. I really wanted to get out of the lag and Lady Jade provided me a teleport to her private hang out. Once I arrived it was explained to me that I was now owned by not one Lady of the Dominion but two. Lady Jade and Lady Roxana share things equally and I would be theirs. I never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed and I didn't understand the gravity of what had just transpired, indeed in those hours after the auction it seemed as if nothing much had changed. It wouldn't be till later when Lady Jade took me on a tour of the Dominion that my world would be shaken to its core.
When we had free time Lady Jade put a collar on me and I experienced being leashed. I was led around and shown more of the Dominion and I was in awe of its magnificence. We made our way back to the courtyard where I was commanded to kneel before Lady Jade. The fact that I fell to my knees without question or a second thought should have been my first clue something had changed irrevocably within me.
Her Sultry voice controlled my attention and she informed me that my balls and cock were now hers. Something stirred deep inside me and the long dormant switch flipped in my head. I now understood what I was looking and searching for. I yearned to be controlled and I understood the truth of who I was when she claimed me.
Lady Jade likes to take her time playing with her boys and at her hands I experienced more than I was ready to comprehend. The monumental orgasm she ruptured out of me that first night was breath taking and awe inspiring, it was an explosion of ecstasy in many years in the making which reached to all parts of my psyche.
A few days later I played with with Lady Roxana. My first cam experience was both intense, humiliating, and deeply erotic, Lady Roxana is the kind of devious hardcore Domme I had been secretly dreaming about playing with. I realized how lucky I was to be bought by two such strong and powerful women. They told me that they had only scratched the top of the surface in playing with me and soon I would learn how much there was to be taught about the art of male submission.
I am currently being held in chastity and writing this story for the pleasure of my Mistresses. They take pride in controlling and dominating that most intimate part of myself and it is my pleasure to give it to them. It is odd that I was once confused about why the males kneel, now sitting at my Ladies feet is my greatest pleasure. I feel sorry for all the lost males who have not yet been commanded to kneel. .
When I first joined Second Life I was told by a friend that "SL is not about finding what you want, it is about experiencing what you need." I am grateful that I was put in my rightful place at the Dominion.
My first time at the Dominion was not for the auction in which I was stripped naked and put on public display… You may have actually seen me around before… I looked different a few years ago when I first stopped by, my avatar had a few more tattoos and of course, I had clothes on back then. I was one of the lost ones, a wandering male Avatar who came in to the Dominion to look around. I don't know why I was drawn here. I was always intrigued by the ideals of female power and no matter how many dozens of SL sites I explored I would always wander back to the Dominion every week or so to have a look around.
In the early days of my exploration I remember the Dominion as being an odd, strange, and alien landscape full of pathetically kneeling males and unapproachably beautiful women. I never knew what to make of the place, at the time I felt disdain for those poor males who were on their knees all the time and confused arousal towards the women who ruled. I thought about trying to get involved with the Dominion but the idea of kneeling all the time seemed a bit ridiculous to me and yet I had some regrets.
My early days of SL ended after two years. Yes I had made a few long term friends in Second Life but I felt that I was missing something. The vanilla girlfriends I was with before I entered the scene cast me as a dominant and I carried that persona into Second Life. The sexual experiences I had on Second Life began to get dull as the submissive girls that I tended to attract no longer brought any sense of arousal or interest. I thought all sex was losing its appeal to me and I mistakenly believed a break from Second Life was in order. My reemergence into RL brought with it a deeper exploration into the local Philadelphia BDSM scene and a dawning realization of who I was sexually. It took me a while to understand that my disconnect as a dominant-switch was due to the fact that I was only truly happy sexually in those rare times when I was allowed to be submissive.
It took me 36 years before I truly knew and could claim my identity as a sexually submissive male, something that I eventually began to appreciate, accept and take pride in. In RL I had increasingly toppy partners who enjoyed the power that I gave them but something was still missing for me. I needed more than to be topped, but what I yearned for was still vague and elusive.
I cannot say why I was drawn back to Second Life but I as fortune would have it I reentered SL just in time to find my way to a very auspicious action block…
I logged in on one of the rare Saturday’s I have available for SL and was contacted out-of- the-blue by my friend who told me I had 10 minutes to get ready before I was auctioned off at the Dominion. My friend and I had discussed my desire to delve into my submissive side. I thought it was going to be a gradual exploration, I had no idea I was going to be coated with honey and dropped into the thick of it! I had been to a real life slave auctions at the local dungeon and did not think a Second Life one could be much worse… oh how wrong I was…
I didn't know what to expect as I rezzed into the Dominion Auction ground but I began to feel some very real life emotions edging through me as I maneuvered into the beautiful throng of powerful Mistresses and bound submissives on my way to the front of the stage. I was told to strip and take my place hanging with the other cattle like a choice piece of meat at the county fair.
I have no problem being naked in front of groups in real life but when I looked out into the lag generating forces of the Dominion that stared back at me I felt anxiety more powerful than any I had experienced in RL. I am one of the older avatars in the sim and I had never felt real trepidation before, yet hanging naked in front of the Dominion humbled me immensely. I was even more surprised when it was my turn to be bid on.
The throng of attendees had had increased the lag to the point where my avatar was having a very difficult time moving about, I was told to sit on the pedestal. Unable to see anything except what was directly in front of me my avatar kept trying to sit on top of Miss Evangeline's Podium. I remember that I swore at the computer screen as my skin turned a peculiar shade of red. It is normally very difficult to embarrass me but with so many eyes on me, I was failing hard, fortunately my avatar maintained his composure.
My humiliation became more manageable once I was eventually on the pedestal and the attention of the room became more inquisitive. Oddly once I was in place seemed that the ladies where the shy ones as few wanted to speak up and ask me questions. The silence did not last too long as the queries eventually began coming. Soon the ladies of the Dominion where checking my teeth and hind quarters as they had me demonstrate my propensity for moaning loudly and emoting orgasms online.
I must admit to being a bit ignorant of the rules of The Dominion and I made the mistake of addressing a lady improperly. Fortunately for me the woman with sultry voice I had insulted was undaunted by my bad manners and promised to take it out of my ass later. A threat I was grateful she kept when she upped her bid. Moments later the he auction was ended and I was bought and paid for.
I was in a bit of a daze as I made my down from the pedestal. I really wanted to get out of the lag and Lady Jade provided me a teleport to her private hang out. Once I arrived it was explained to me that I was now owned by not one Lady of the Dominion but two. Lady Jade and Lady Roxana share things equally and I would be theirs. I never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed and I didn't understand the gravity of what had just transpired, indeed in those hours after the auction it seemed as if nothing much had changed. It wouldn't be till later when Lady Jade took me on a tour of the Dominion that my world would be shaken to its core.
When we had free time Lady Jade put a collar on me and I experienced being leashed. I was led around and shown more of the Dominion and I was in awe of its magnificence. We made our way back to the courtyard where I was commanded to kneel before Lady Jade. The fact that I fell to my knees without question or a second thought should have been my first clue something had changed irrevocably within me.
Her Sultry voice controlled my attention and she informed me that my balls and cock were now hers. Something stirred deep inside me and the long dormant switch flipped in my head. I now understood what I was looking and searching for. I yearned to be controlled and I understood the truth of who I was when she claimed me.
Lady Jade likes to take her time playing with her boys and at her hands I experienced more than I was ready to comprehend. The monumental orgasm she ruptured out of me that first night was breath taking and awe inspiring, it was an explosion of ecstasy in many years in the making which reached to all parts of my psyche.
A few days later I played with with Lady Roxana. My first cam experience was both intense, humiliating, and deeply erotic, Lady Roxana is the kind of devious hardcore Domme I had been secretly dreaming about playing with. I realized how lucky I was to be bought by two such strong and powerful women. They told me that they had only scratched the top of the surface in playing with me and soon I would learn how much there was to be taught about the art of male submission.
I am currently being held in chastity and writing this story for the pleasure of my Mistresses. They take pride in controlling and dominating that most intimate part of myself and it is my pleasure to give it to them. It is odd that I was once confused about why the males kneel, now sitting at my Ladies feet is my greatest pleasure. I feel sorry for all the lost males who have not yet been commanded to kneel. .
When I first joined Second Life I was told by a friend that "SL is not about finding what you want, it is about experiencing what you need." I am grateful that I was put in my rightful place at the Dominion.
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