Saturday, December 17, 2011

Christmas Shopping by Dash

We've been at the stores for hours.  You walk ahead, a few steps. I follow behind.

We a drive at the jewelry store.  The bell rings. The woman behind the counter waves as you enter.  The counter near the back of the store has the earrings.

I put some of the bags I'm carrying on the floor. You point to a pair near the top of the display case.

"How about these?" I nod, smile.

"And these?"

"Hmm. Those seem like something my grandmother might wear. Those may not be the most flattering on you."

"Then I'll have to go with these. More carats!"

I laugh. You smile.

"Good choice," you continue. "Go ahead, honey, sing the song. Only two more times." The corner of your lip curls.

I sigh. "…two more times."

"Twelve iTunes gift certificates,"

"Eleven imported chocolate bars,"

"Ten designer tops,"

"Nine pairs of socks,"

"Eight visits to the spa,"

"Seven pairs of jeans,"

"Six pairs of shoes,"

You laugh, "That's right, including those sling back pumps you seemed to have a physical reaction to."

"Fffiiivvvvveee new lipsticks,"

"Four bottles of wine…"

You nod, and laugh.

"Three running tees,"

"Two pairs of diamond earrings...  That sparkle."

You smile. "Pay the woman."

"Yes Ma'am." I hand over my card. The earrings are given to another clerk to wrap. You step in beside me.

"We've got one more stop, baby. Now we'll get something for YOU." You smack my ass. "You might have to sing a little louder after that. You know how the leather muffles everything."

Blackmailed by Heather

Two letters. One ignored. The second more threatening. Someone had broken into the house, left a note, they'd been watching, they left clothes and a note, "Be at the hotel, don't be late."

Last paragraph last week

I slipped the blindfold over my head as I sat down on the bed and waited, waited and waited. What seemed like hours probably only took a few minutes. I could hear the soft beep of the door, as it unlocked, opened, and fell in it's lock again. I wanted to rip the blindfold of my head, but was too scared to move. I heard heels. A woman? The clicking stopped a few inches from me and a finger traced down my collarbone as I heard a soft voice speak, "Hello slut."

That voice. Where had I heard that before?

I couldn't place it.

"I am so pleased that you showed up. Even more pleased that you put the blindfold on. I have to be honest, I wasn't expecting that."

I opened my mouth to say something but she was quicker. "Here's the deal. You don't speak unless I ask you a questions. You don't sigh. You don't whine. You'll be quiet as a mouse."

I wondered if I was really listening to her or if I was calculating my escape routes. Why did I do this? I'd prolly end up in some river later, with a rope around my neck and a big bolder attached to the rope. Who was this woman?

I most definitely did not meet her at the bar. I would have remembered someone with a voice like that. Work? I tried to remember every female I had ever worked with, but in my line of job they come and go so quickly, I didn't think it would be her.

Then it hit me. Starbucks. The coffeemaker. Holy hell. "I know you!" I half screamed at her.

"Well, congratulations on your discovery. Though, I thought I'd just tell you that you weren't suppose to speak. You'd be quiet as a mouse. Obviously you cannot follow the simplest of instructions. Perhaps I should gag you."

I brought my hands up to the blindfold to rip it off but once again she was faster than me.

"Oh no you don't. That blindfold stays on until I tell you it comes off." She yanked my hands down, pulled them behind my back and before I knew it I heard the snap of the handcuffs that tied my hands together.

"Relax. I am not going to kill you. I just want to .. have some fun. You really need to be more careful where you leave your keys. You sit there, hours at a time, reading your book. You never noticed I took your keys. It was so easy to get into your house. I was amused you burned my first letter, but be aware that won't happen again, or I might start a little fire in your house. You know, to get even. I'm all about getting even.

My heart was pounding. God, she had one hell of a sexy voice. Focus.

"You see, I want something of you. You can be of great value to me." Her finger traced along my collarbone once again. "But, I'm not going to make it easy on you. You're going to have a job to do. You're going to find me. Obviously I won't be at Starbucks any longer. Never really liked that place."

I wanted to comment, but thought the wiser of it.

"I left you a little present in this room. It should take those handcuffs off. Because I sure as hell ain't gonna do it for you!"

I gulped. What in the world...

"I'll give you one hint. You may out of reach, but you're closer thank you think. I am not even going to ask you if you'll be smart enough to follow my instructions. Your cheeks are flustered, your hear rate went up and I bet, if I'd reach right there.. " Her hands pushed my legs apart followed by fingernails scratching down my upper thigh. "I bet you're wet. But I'll wait. I have time."

I was in shock.

"Now you be a good girl. You have thirty minutes until the cleaning crew is coming up. I'll leave them a nice a message, saying I spilled a drink, broke a glass, I'll come up with something. I bet you don't want them to find you like this."

Panic. I wasn't flustered. Well, I didn't want to be. I wanted to panic.

"We'll see who gets in contact first. Come find me girl. It'll be much easier that way. But remember, I'm watching you. Every little step of the way." She tugged my hair and I heard her walk away. The door. It shut.

I thought about the hint, stood up, tried to balance which isn't easy with your hands tied behind your back and blindfolded. Out of reach .. what could it mean. Then it hit me. My cellphone. I sank to my knees and tried to reach for it when the handcuffs stopped me. Damn it. I fell onto my side, trying to move closer to the edge of the bed, until I felt a tiny metal thing. A hair pin. God. I'd seen it in the movies, but trying it when you're blindfolded and handcuffed is just hard. I pulled the pin apart until it snapped and tried to maneuverer my wrist in the right position. It hurt. I fiddled around until I finally heard the snap of the lock. One down one to go. Which thank fully is a lot easier when you can see what you're doing. The other came of in an instant and I adjusted to the bright light again.

What a mess. How was I suppose to find her? Why would I even want to go find her. My eyes scanned around the room until I saw a little piece of paper. On it were four words.

"Well done. Dock 47."

And I knew exactly why I wanted to find her. She was right. I was wet.

At The Office by Anonymous

You would have thought, Mistress, that cumming every day for the past 5 days would mean that I was in some way less edgy. Less inclined to get all worked up. Less likely to sit at my desk and rub Your hard erect cock. Work colleagues around, but unable to stop myself. You would think that I would somehow have more control. But I am unable to Mistress. Unable to exercise any control at all, following Your instructions instantly without hesitation, reading Your words and reacting immediately.  Sitting at my desk, shivering and shaking, head spinning and reeling, fingers reaching down under the desk, rubbing Your erect member until I can feel it leaking and straining.

Eyes reading the screen hungrily, hoping and begging for You to instruct me how to cum. Wondering if You will allow me to explode, then lick it all up, mind wandering to thoughts of covered toilet seats and floors. Desperate to eat the cum that would shoot from Your cock. Almost fainting when You say that I am allowed.....all over the wall, licking it up....... but first edging twice. Moaning in delight, these thoughts fresh in my mind I cannot help but run to my favourite cubicle.

I stand facing the wall, nervously pulling down my pants and jocks, Your hard erect cock springing free. I cannot help noticing the large wet pre-cum stains on my jocks. I then proceed to stroke myself.

Edging the first time my head full of images and thoughts planted there by Mistress. Pictures of me sucking cock and eating loads and mouthfuls of cum. Thinking of kneeling before a faceless man, a large erect cock before me, glancing at Mistress who nods slowly, smiling. Lips parting slowly as I begin to suck it deep into my hungry mouth. Eyes closing as I stroke myself harder and faster, almost unable to stop as I reach the edge so quickly, suddenly my mind full of reflections of this man's huge cock pounding my face, stopping my stroking and avoiding cumming just as he spurts and squirts ream after ream of cum all over my face, and eyes and mouth, covering me in it, eyes blinking as it stings. Shuddering, returning to the bathroom, knowing that this was only the first edge to be completed.

Beginning to stroke the second time I let my mind wander again. Fantasies and imagination taking me far from the bathroom. Finding myself lying below my Mistress, a face of concentration and a smile of pleasure on Her lips. My eyes widening in fear and apprehension as Her lips part and Her gorgeous voice speaks - "A canvas of skin to paint pain on is such a lovely thing". Losing myself in those words, thrusting my body forward, offering it to Her. Then watching intently as a sharp scalpel appears in Her hand and moves to Your skin, cutting my flesh, slowly and deliberately, not understanding Her intent as She moves the blade across my chest. Only aware of the sharp sensations and the warm flow of blood on my torso. Eyes blinking, head lolling, lost in the sweet caress of pain. Only when Mistress purrs softly do my eyes flutter, staring down at my chest, seeing the carving of the letters. W  H  O  R  E etched into my skin, deep dark red blood flowing, seeping down my body. Head jolting back to the bathroom, hand stroking Your cock, almost cumming again as Mistress admires Her handiwork, and whispers in my ear "good whore". Only just managing to stop myself from cumming, but feeling relieved that the last of the edging is complete, knowing now I am able to stroke until I scream.

I then start back plunging my hand up and down the length of Your cock, head full of a glorious combination of both scenarios. Kneeling before a huge cock, sucking it deep within, savouring its' taste, my torso blood smeared, the word "WHORE" screaming in pained red from my chest. Gagging as I am face fucked. Then suddenly from nowhere I am spasming. Your cock suddenly bursting forth. Not aware of what was in my head previously, only focused on a desperation to please Mistress and spray my seed over the cubicle, desperate to do so, then finally filled with the joy of pleasing Mistress as Your cock spurts cum all over the wall. Watching as some runs quickly down the smooth surface before I am able to stop it. Sliding down the wall and dripping onto the floor. Stroking until I am empty, face flushed with exertion. Then quickly beginning to lap at the cum, hungrily dropping to my knees and licking and sucking the sperm from the wall, savouring it all, and then to the floor where it had dripped, using my tongue along the floor to scoop that up also.

Picking myself up, dressing and exiting, shaking and shuddering all over as I made my way back to my desk. Thank You so much Mistress, Your cum licking, dirty, filthy pain whore is so fortunate to be Yours.

Starbuck Sub by Black

Twas the day of the Trials at Dominion
Druth waited, his turn soon upon him
Her Judgery heard the case and found him guilty
Chief Zarita to set the punishment, what would it be?
A gasp in the court, a sentence to be a cup for a week
The Starbucks av was unveiled, the shape so sleek
Druth “dressed” slowly, the lid leaking steam
His shape slumped at the shame, an awful dream
The week passéd like a month, the butt of jokes
He grinned bravely as his throat chokes
His stirrer waves defiantly, he serves the Ladies
A latte perhaps, sweet with honey from bees
Finally the end is nigh, he strips away the cup
He thanks Lady Zarita and kneels, a coffee ready to sup.

A Limerick to Lady Zarita

There was a Mistress named Lady Zarita
Black wondered how he could meet her
She called for Starbucks
But Druth heard “she fucks”
So she made him bend while she pushed in a fajita

Night Shift by Skai

Rachel unpinned her shortgown and carefully set it aside. Then she stepped out of her skirts and added them to the neatly folded pile. Next she reached back and loosened her stays, just enough to wiggle out of them without taking the trouble to unlace them. Unlike Miss Sarah, she had no servants to help her dress in the morning.

That left her in her shift and stockings. The shift was thick linen; she cringed a little, wishing she had a light cotton chemise such as Miss Sarah wore. But this, at least, was a perfect night shift; along with the wool stockings and the heavy wool blankets, it would keep her warm even when the fire burned down to coals.

She sighed as she crawled into her bed, wondering why her thoughts constantly strayed to Miss Sarah—why she found herself wondering about her evening toilette and wishing that she had the honor of overseeing it.  Was her lady maid just now unlacing her? Was she standing there in that ridiculously thin chemise of hers, twirling her dark hair in her fingers as she stared at herself in the mirror? Were her lips set in that sly, engaging smile of hers?

Rachel had never seen her bestow that smile upon her betrothed.  Was it too much to hope that Miss Sarah reserved it just for her? But if so, what did she mean by it? One of Rachel’s hands strayed toward her breast while the other—

No. These thoughts must stop. That smile meant nothing but a tribute to the times when they had played together as children.

Rachel sighed and hugged her night shift closer to her, wishing it were as enticing as Miss Sarah's smile.

Playing Pretend by Jennifer

“So we begin to see that languages should be neither too small, nor too large,” said the man on the screen. “Perhaps most importantly, they should be written for growth,” he continued, and I listened intently, watching his lips move, laboring to process his words and develop a summary in my head with which to complete my assignment.

My roommate entered the common room, passing me a cheerful greeting; and I was thankful for the momentary break. She stuck her head in the fridge, bending over to peer inside. I watched her absently, my own mind and body in utter disarray.

“I can’t focus...” I muttered to myself as I glanced back at my computer screen. I had been expending a gratuitous amount of energy trying to stay on task, and it very clearly wasn’t working.

I gave into my thoughts, agreeing with myself that there was no way I was going to get any work done right then. I glanced at the clock on the top bar of my screen eagerly, and checked my phone once more. 10:15; no new messages.

I pulled up an idle window in my browser where I had several tabs open, including a blog run by a domestic sub. I scrolled down the list of archives and opened several new tabs from the list, skimming over the posts, lost in my own disorganized thoughts.

I peeked up at the clock again. 10:20. Time was crawling.

I felt a curious sensation of despair. How long could I keep this up? I wasn't used to feeling so damn anxious.

I squirmed a bit, becoming freshly aware of the wetness forming on my compression pants. They were black, with a curved stripe of fuchsia beginning at the knee, running halfway down and around the back of my calves, where the pants ended. I had admired myself in the mirror earlier. These pants really did make my legs and ass look fantastic. It was no wonder she had instructed me to wear them for her, along with a blue and white Under Armour sports bra to fit my 34DD breasts. I had finished the outfit with a simple black camisole, as per her wishes, and I had to say that I looked damn good, with each piece of fabric hugging my athletic figure.

Remembering how she had chosen my outfit for her own viewing pleasure; feeling the fabric of my pants creating light friction against my bare pussy as I moved; feeling anxious to please her with my dutiful execution of her direction; I was completely overcome by anticipation.

My phone dinged as I received a text. “on campus, come downstairs. I don't want to have to wait on you.”

I hopped up instantly off the couch, shutting my screen and leaving my computer on the coffee table. There would be time to put it away later.

I padded eagerly to my room in a half jog. Grabbed my keys, pocketed my phone. Glanced around for my flip-flops, remembering that I had left them in the closet by the door when I had visited my parents over the weekend. No time for socks and shoes. I grabbed the sweatshirt hanging from my office chair, and tossed it on as I flicked the lights off and bolted out of my room.

I raced out the front door of the apartment, grabbing my parking permit off its hook as I went, turning the bolt lock to keep the door from shutting all the way; I half ran, half hopped down four flights of stairs.

Slowing as I reached the door that led to the parking lot behind my building, I pushed it open and glanced around timidly. My heart was racing, my mind a confused jumble of excited thoughts.

I didn’t see her.

I hesitated for a moment before stepping outside onto the raw pavement in my bare feet. It was COLD out. Barely above freezing. But she had warned me not to keep her waiting.

I padded to the edge of the sidewalk, eyes scanning the parking lot for signs of her car. I glanced at the street in time to see her pull in.

She motioned at me impatiently, and I rushed to the passenger side door and let myself in.

She drove forward, turning into the next aisle, looking for a spot.

“Hi!” I said shyly, voice edged with excitement and anxiety.

“Hi,” she returned, pulling into a spot. “Do you have the permit?” she demanded, turning to look at me.

“Mhm!” I nodded enthusiastically and hung the green pass on her rearview mirror.

“Good girl.” she said shortly.

I turned to look at her, my face written in an ambivalent mixture of longing and humble shyness. She looked back at me passively, displaying a hint of teasing faux-inquisitiveness, as if she had no idea what I was thinking.

“Can I kiss you?” I whispered after a long moment, my voice betraying my eagerness.

“No,” she replied curtly, getting out of the car. “Come here,” she summoned. “Carry my things.”

She loaded me up with a suitcase, a jacket, and several grocery bags full of mysterious items; and then took off towards my building, carrying her backpack as she went.

I followed, struggling to catch up. She paused at the outer door and waited impatiently as I fiddled with my keys. My thoughts were racing, and my hands clumsy. Her suitcase fell over as I struggled awkwardly with the key, and she looked at me with disdain.

“Sorry…” I muttered, wincing, and bent over at once to pick it up.

I unlocked the door and held it open for her, and she walked past me into the stairwell.

I followed behind, admiring her ass as she moved up the stairs, unable to contain the huge nervous grin that spread across my face. I looked down at my feet for a moment, worried that she would turn around and see me smiling at her amazing, well-defined ass, but she didn’t, and I looked up again, continuing to enjoy the view as we trekked upward.

She was wearing blue-jean jeggings that hugged her curves and showed her figure nicely. Woven under the belt loops was a plain brown leather belt, held in place by a rectangular bronze buckle. Her pant legs were tucked into matching brown boots, lined with charcoal gray faux-fur. Thin brown straps ran across her boots from side to side at angles. A white knit sweater finished the ensemble.

“You look cute!” I volunteered as we approached my floor.

“Thank you,” she replied smugly over her shoulder.

She paused in the hallway in front of my door as I struggled with her luggage.

“It’s unlocked,” I said helpfully, moving past her to push open the door.

I held it open, and she walked past me purposefully, through the doorway to my bedroom, which was the first room to the right across from the apartment entrance.

I turned the lights on and set her things down gently, luggage on the floor, bags on my bed.

“Megan!” She called excitedly, ignoring me as she ventured into the hallway and knocked on my roommate’s bedroom door.

I followed and stood at her side, bouncing anxiously on the balls of my feet, hands held behind my back in restraint: she hadn’t given me permission to touch her, and I couldn’t ask in front of Megan.

The two of them chatted happily, catching up; and every passing moment further secured a promise to yield a tortuously long conversation.

Suddenly thirsty, and quite unable to keep still, I dashed lightly into my bedroom next door and grabbed the water bottle from the top of my dresser.

Returning a moment later, I first offered the water to Jaime, who drank from it gratefully before returning it to me. I distracted myself by drinking the remaining contents of the bottle.

I grappled with the overwhelming urge to snuggle up against Jaime, imagining that she could pet me absently as she talked. The thought was soothing, but my body responded with an increased yearning to feel her warmth against me; and keeping myself from pursuing my vision was agony.

Finally Megan excused herself from the conversation to resume studying for her upcoming exam, and I happily followed Jaime back to my own room, shutting the door as we entered.

She stopped, turning to face me as she stood in the center of my room, between my bed and bookshelf, the former wedged into the far corner of my room, and the latter positioned about halfway along, and perpendicular to, the opposite wall. It stood between my desk and my keyboard.

I stopped as well, about two inches away from her. I was clearly struggling to maintain the distance.

My hands begged me to grasp hers. My lips were magnetized; I could feel them pulling me towards her own beautifully full lips. My tongue swayed, restless inside my mouth, dying to be reunited with her lips, her tongue, her skin, her ears…

I shook my head, trying to break the reverie.

She maintained her position, eyeing me lightly as an amused smile played across her face.

“Can I kiss you?” I tried again, wide-eyed and hopeful.

“Not yet.” Her smile broadened, enjoying my internal conflict and begging gaze.


“Back,” she ordered, her hand pushing me gently, but firmly away.

I stepped back obediently.

She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side, eyeing my body.

“Not bad,” she said, looking me up and down.

She took a half-step forward and ran her hands lightly over my quads, fingers and palms whispering across the smooth fabric of my pants as they approached my inner thighs; lazily drifting, first down, then up; coming teasingly close to my pussy before pulling abruptly away.

I whimpered softly.

She stepped closer, cupping her hands over my hips. She dragged them lavishly over my stomach and breasts as her eyes scanned slowly over my torso.

She groped me casually and rubbed her thumbs over my nipples, which quickly became erect in response.

My pulse quickened, my breaths coming shorter and faster: now barely, but distinctly audible.

“Spin,” she commanded, pulling away. Resting her hand once more on my upper thigh, she let it trail across the fabric, adding “Slowly!” as I turned awkwardly in place for her.

When I was facing away from her, she grabbed my hips firmly, signaling for me to stop.

She repeated her earlier caress, starting on my ass and slowly coming down around my inner thighs, excruciatingly close to my wetness, very purposefully avoiding it.

My thoughts focused on standing still and fighting the devastating urge to arch my back and press myself against her touch, and I gasped as she slapped my ass.

“Okay,” she said suddenly, content with my apparel, and sat down luxuriously on my bed, leaning back and resting lightly on her hands, legs crossed over the side of the mattress.

I turned back to face her, hands fidgeting behind me. The anticipation was almost too much to bear; her chest was forward and out, on display in her current position, taunting me.

I wanted nothing more than to push her backwards, flat onto the bed, and straddle her. I wanted to fill my mouth with the taste of her tongue and her lips, wanted to feel her chest and stomach pressed against mine, wanted to feel her fingers intertwined with my own as her skin kissed every nerve on my body at once.

I had never been so turned on in my life; the desire to serve her wishes filled me, but it swirled violently in my veins as it sparred with wisps of lust and floods of need for her touch.

My eyes fixed greedily on her, and she mocked me with her false innocence: “What?”

“I just…” I began longingly. “I want to kiss you, and…” my voice trailed off as I battled with my fantastic impulses.

“Go on,” she smiled at me, again with a teasing inquisitiveness as she cocked her head to one side.

I tried to form words from my thoughts. I wanted to express to her each individual need that filled me; to enumerate each ounce of passion in its own medium, but as I began to funnel my fervor into concrete means of communication, I felt myself being pushed to the boundary of my self-control; and I knew that to speak would be to succumb to my ravenous inclinations.

I could not let myself lose control.

I shook my head feverishly, trying to banish my desires.

“I can’t think,” I finished weakly, hoping that she would be satisfied with my modest response.

Indeed by Volens

According to the sentence handed down, a poem with indeed in every verse.

        An Ode to Indeed
       ~ Poem by Volens

I feel the need, the need to feed, a need to feed the word Indeed.

It rides the tongue so smooth with speed, with speed does come this word Indeed.

Tis sad to say, to some when heard, this word Indeed, some angst does breed.

And though this seems contrary to nature, Indeed is valid nomenclature.

So if I fail to heed retention, of this word Indeed I've mention,

Please know no insult or rebellious creed, is behind my ample use of Indeed.

It's use does flee from my mouth like a steed, this slippery, slippery word Indeed.

And if I use it to a fault, so much indeed to make You balk,

I do so humbly apologize, and though I indeed do sympathize,

I truly have this need to feed, a need to feed this word Indeed.

Strangely I Am At Peace by Lady Siofra

Strangely I am at Peace

Cold and chill ache into my bones
Here in the winter Dream
Only the blue frozen trees greet me
I am alone here
strangely I am at peace.

My feet crunch against the snow
the sound reminds me I am here
not in front of the fire
nor curled up by a body
Strangely I am at peace

My finger tip grip to warm
only to find icy air
but they remember the leather
and the faint tugging
Strangely I am at peace

Over the Horizon the sun creeps
seeming to go to hide
much like you do
my one and only
Strangely I am at peace

Not I am here in the center grove
a breath escapes my lips
Floating up into the star filled sky
You art there my north star
Strangely I am at peace

I can not see your face
or even know your name
but I know your out there
Waiting like I am
Strangely I am at peace.

A Christmas Snowflake by Anonymous

A Christmas Snowflake

The snowflake shuddered as it finally felt complete. It could feel itself grow heavy and begin to lose its grip on its friends around him. It knew the time was near, that its end had come. Soon it would slip into the blinding white depths and be lost as it had watched so many of its friends do before. Its friends grabbed at it tighter, but it shook its head and cried out farewell, filled with fear…it let go. Slowly it fell into the folds of white beneath it. Then faster…and faster… it would have screamed in sheer terror as it hurtled to its unknown fate.

Blind and alone, it saw nothing but the rapid passing of an endless sea of white. The fear it felt continued to rise, causing the crystals to tinkle as they shook. Suddenly the blindness…lifted, and fear suddenly became awe and astonishment. The Snowflake was still falling but now, stretched out before it, was a world of beauty. Colors of all sorts lay stretched out in all directions, glimmering silver stretching along paths, and stretches of green that reached upwards to the snowflake. As the snowflake began to remember it was hurtling downward no matter the beauty it saw, it bent its head to look below it.

Suddenly the wind caught it and its speed slowed. In a moment of curiosity the snowflake had begun a lazy drifting downward. Much to the surprise of the snowflake and much relief to it as well, it could now look about with the eyes of the awakened. All around it the world was vast and beautiful. Far larger than the sea of white it had know for so long.  The beauty was so much the snowflake wept at the hand of God in its making.

All its life it had nothing. Just the now long missed friends it hung to till it had to let go. Now at the end it thought, I am given everything. In its voice it cried out thanks for being able to see, before it all ended. Lazily it drifted downward the world coming closer, and it was at peace. The snowflake found new things every time it looked about and continued to be awed at the world. Then below it noticed a scar in the beauty, in its own right the scar was beautiful. Glowing lines of red and gray and black contrasting with the greens and silver, but there were sounds now. Strange sounds of thumping and the snowflake could see new billows of black rise up after each one.

The snowflake watched as it drifted slowly down, it could tell that it was going to hit in the middle of this scar. A bit disappointed it tried to steer itself to a prettier part of the beauty to die in. But then something spoke to the snowflake. It didn’t know who or what, it could barely understand. But suddenly it knew what lay below, it was war and it was terrible. Things were dying in pain, this knowledge made the snowflake shiver again. It now knew what it had to do and changed its course again. Aiming straight for the middle of the scar stretching out closer and closer as the world…yes it was the world it thought… rose up to meet it. The snowflake did not know what it was doing or why. It just felt right.

It could feel the heat of the thumping and could see shapes moving along the now terrible beauty of war below it. It saw small shapes run to a fro, and fall to never move again. It watched hard large shapes spew out flame and heat and could see the multi colored thumping and billows of flame…death…yes death they brought. The snowflake so small and fragile trembled in fear again the crystals tinkled again in its shivers. It lasted but a moment as it felt its purpose grew near.

It was tossed about as it was so close now. It had to fight to stay on course to aim for the point it had chosen. Closer and closer it came as the sounds of the war reached it, as the heat and hot winds tore at it to rip it from its destination. The snowflake could feel as if something was trying to stop it, but on it came. More determined than ever, the snowflake tilted its head and dove down. Through the thumping it came. Through the hot blast of winds, it came. Down it went hurtling toward the world, past the hard shapes that flew through the air, like the sheeting rain of an angry thunderstorm, it came. The world was nothing but this scar now; it could see none of the beauty that had so awed it before. Just before the snowflake dashed itself against the scar of the world, it lifted its head and stopped to drift lazily again.

It knew this was the place it was to be. Its life had passed in mere moments from birth, to falling, to this. It thanked God for its life and purpose and gave itself into God’s care. Slowly it drifted and finally came to rest on a smooth round shape being held by one of the things that had been scurrying around. Its resting place was cold and comforting allowing the snowflake to cling and survive. It looked into the face of this thing and did not see anger or hate, but surprise. The thing looked closer at the snowflake and said something to others. More of the things came over to look at it. The snowflake shook and tinkled softly, a sound of hello.

The sounds had dulled as many gathered around to see the snowflake, which blushed at the attention of these things. Suddenly the snowflake heard its friends. They were all drifting down above him. They cried out in seeing the snowflake. It cried back in welcome and suddenly the air was filled with his friends, all following it to this place. The sounds of war grew silent and the snowflake clasped hands again with some of its friends that came near, it looked around slowly.

The large shapes that sent out death were quiet. The thumping sounds had stopped. All these things that had gazed at it were staring upward, and quickly; the scar was covered in a blanket of white. The snowflake felt the peace it had felt, as it enjoyed the beauty of the world. It held the hands of its friends tighter, as it saw the peace flow from the heavens to the world and saw it spread.
It thought to itself, a miracle this is, the war paused and anger turned to wonder.  The things put down their round metal and offered a hand to each other. Then it heard the singing, the things were singing as they lighted little flames to hold in their hands. The snowflake and all its friends joined in with their soft tinkling sounds. The snowflake felt itself grow tired but had no fear. It knew that even the smallest things can do great good and as it passed it knew peace.

Merry Christmas with all my heart, may you be a small snowflake in someone’s life.

Ice Queens Fashion Show by Lady Hanna

1.    Destiny - Son!a

The Dominion boy knelt on the fur rug, transfixed as he watched the absolutely regal Miss Destiny approach in her ice white Son!a gown. The snow storm whispering beyond the tall glass windows only added to the hush that fell over him as She stood there, studying him coolly, disinterested. He dropped his eyes and bowed his head. One of these Ladies would be his Mistress, at the end of this holiday night, and his throat tightened as he imagined what this glittering Lady could intend. He twisted his wrists in their fur-lined cuffs, shifting his arms against his bare back. He watched Her feet as She turned away from him, and, without a word, left him kneeling there alone. Would this woman in her cold white gown select him? Or would another?

2.    Joie - Son!a

He raised his eyes to watch the next woman approach. Lady Joie, resplendent in her Son!a dress, positively glittering like the holiday was made for her alone. He shifted in his kneel and stared at Her openly. Lady Joie didn't seem to notice he was there at all. She looked for a long moment at the wicked curve of her fingernails, she glanced down at the decorations of her gown and adjusted one, hiding a pale nipple from his view. And then, with a sideways glance that slid over his kneeling form without a pause, she turned and walked away. His eyes followed her hungrily. He imagined what the long heel of her stiletto would feel like against his lips.

3.    Jade - Purple Moon

Another woman was approaching. Who is this vision in crimson and night? Lady Jade, walking with a bored self-assurance in her Purple Moon gown, her eyes looking directly into his own. He kept her gaze, entranced, feeling a flutter in the pit of his stomach as this Lady seemed to smile at him as if she already owned him, as if the weight of her collar was already around his throat. He lifted his chin as if to show her his bare neck, offering, his cheeks aflame even while the winter storm whistled outside. But at that moment, she laughed, she laughed like he was put there for nothing but her amusement. And with a wink over her shoulder at the kneeling boy, she turned, and she sauntered away.

4.    Miyani - Purple Moon

One of these Ladies would be his Mistress at the end of the night, and the one walking toward him now made him hold his breath. Lady Miyani wore her luxurious Purple Moon dress as if it were nothing, as if the cool movements of her body were natural to her with or without the lavish adornment of glittering fabric.  She seemed to favor him with a hint of a smile, but he could be mistaken. She stopped to examine him and that hint of a smile seemed to fade until her expression was cold as the wind whipping outside. He had no idea how he disappointed her, but he felt that disappointment heavy in his chest, making his breathing hitch and his head bow again. Watching her leave was like watching a light leave the room, and he craved that small smile would be turned on him again one day.

5.    Siofra – Sangre Noir

The holiday spirit was flickering low in our Dominion boy as he knelt on the fur rug, waiting for the next Lady to inspect him. Embarrassed, he barely lifted his eyes as Lady Siofra approached in her gorgeous satin and glitter Sangre Noir gown, but she seemed focused on him, he could feel her eyes examining his body. He didn't dare look up as she inspected him impersonally, like he was a pet behind glass, waiting to be selected. And maybe he was. By the time he raised his eyes to look at Lady Siofra in her sleek red and white gown, she was covering a yawn with one delicate hand, and turning away. He watched her go with a helpless feeling, goosebumps racing across his bare back and arms from the cold. Which of these Ladies would select him? When would he know for sure?

6.    Karyn – Sangre Noir

He heard the sound of her shoes first, a crisp click of her heels, like icicles cracking. He shivered and watched the old-fashioned Lady Karyn as she walked up to his kneeling body. She tipped her head to one side, smoothing her hand down the rich fabric of her Sangre Noir dress, drawing his attention quite unexpectedly to her curves. She tutted quietly when she saw him staring, and he ripped his eyes back up to her face, but her expression was frosty, her eyebrows raised as if he were the smallest of nuisances. By the time she walked away, the sound of her heels retreating, his heart was beating heavy against his chest and he wasn't sure how he could withstand more scrutiny from these ice-cold women.

7.    Bambi – Azul

The storm outside might be getting worse, the snow piling up in drifts, but the Dominion boy was already trapped. Lady Bambi ambled forward to inspect him next, stunning in her dazzling Azul gown. He could barely believe the beauty in each Lady, each one so uniquely appointed, and Lady Bambi was no exception. She burned bright in all that rich, gleaming fabric, but her face was calm as she walked in a full circle around the bound, kneeling boy to take a look at him from every angle. He followed her feet with his eyes,  not daring to raise his head, and felt his heart shrink as she walked away without even a pause. His throat felt tight as another rejection seemed to settle across his shoulders.

8.    Tora – Azul

Would Lady Tora be this boy's Mistress? He knows she is brilliant in her sumptuous silver and black Azul gown; like the midnight stars above the winter clouds. He yearns to hear her voice, just one word from those slightly frowning lips. He longs to earn a smile from her, when instead she remains aloof, the arch of her eyebrow frosty as the ice crystals on the window panes behind him. He can feel the cold sheeting from the glass, and he can feel the same chill from her disdainful gaze. Something inside his stomach twists and he feels like a worm beneath her magnificence, beneath the weight of her haughty appraisal. He almost begs, then, he almost whispers, "Please…" But Lady Tora is done with him, and walks away.

9.    Pamela – Rfyre

When Lady Pamela approaches in her smart and dazzling RFyre suit, the Dominion boy feels hopeful. This woman is smiling, her step is quick and sure, her expression is almost playful. He lifts his face, hoping that this will be the woman who chooses him tonight, who shows him mercy as inspection after inspection passes him by without warmth. But what is this? Lady Pamela pauses in front of him, and her face contorts like she's smelling something terrible. The beautiful Lady lifts her shoe and carefully inspects its bottom, finds it acceptable, and so sniffs over the boy's head instead. He can almost hear her whispered "yech," and his face glows pink with humiliation as she wipes her shoes on the fur rug in front of him, snorts at the kneeling boy, and saunters back the way she came. Perhaps he won't be chosen by Lady Pamela after all.

10.    Crissy Viper -  RFyre

But then, there is Lady Crissy, splendidly arrayed in her marvelously dark RFyre gown. She seems distracted, then glances down at the boy's spread thighs and widens her eyes. With the sharp toe of her shoe, she nudges between his legs, and the boy whispers a little moan for mercy as she teases him erect. The boy's broad shoulders roll with tension. He can't bring his hands in front of him to cover this embarrassment. The cuffs clink behind his back as a firm reminder. So he suffers, staring up at Lady Crissy with begging eyes, and she, in the holiday spirit of being merry and bright, covers her mouth to stifle a little laugh at the mere party favor the Dominion boy brings to the hostess. She bites her lip and turns away from him, hardly hiding her amusement, and he is forced to watch her go, leaving him alone with his shame.

11.    Destiny – Vita's Boudoir

Oh, no, who is this holiday vision in festive gown from Vita's Boudoir? Lady Destiny, back to take a second look at the Dominion boy. Perhaps she's considering him as a gift for a sister. Perhaps she's interested only in learning more about the return policy. She must see that he's hopelessly erect by now, and aching to hide himself, to hide his face, to leave this wintery room. She is unwrapping something from delicate paper. Ah, it's an ornament in the shape of twin pink spheres swirled with silver glitter. She bends down with a rustle and a jingle, and hangs it neatly at the base of the boy's cock, where it dangles against what god gave him. She gives it a quick pat, gifting the boy with balls that he wouldn't have without her help. With a cool smile into his desperate eyes, Lady Destiny turns her back and leaves him there, pining after her, still waiting to know who might select him tonight.

12.    Joie - Vita's Boudoir

His heart races when he sees Lady Joie returning, this time in her radiant Vita's Boudoir dress, like a sugarplum fairy in his Christmas Eve fantasy, each silver twinkle making him think of a star's light, and a razor's edge. Maybe she's coming to pick him, after all. Maybe she's chosen him for a Christmas treat. He'd even settle for being her fruit cake, lasting for a month in the dark without going bad. He hopes his anxious optimism is not visible in his face as he opens his mouth to greet her, but she puts a delicate finger to her lips and hushes him. She leans forward and gently affixes a headband to his head. He remains motionless when her hands come so close to his face. He watches her walk away, hopelessly unaware of the reindeer antlers she has left him wearing. When he bows his head, little bells jingle quietly.

13.    Jade - Donna Flora

The Dominion boy kneels on the fur rug, mesmerized as he watches Lady Jade approach in her captivating pearl and pink Donna Flora gown. He felt a spark with her earlier, he is positive, he kneels up slightly in anticipation of her announcement, her acceptance. Is that a collar she has in her hands? His face flushes with excitement. He feels his ornaments moving. When he closes his eyes and lifts his chin he is rewarded by Lady Jade's hands fastening something around his neck. He gasps and almost moans with relief. He is chosen. He is going home. But then he hears her heels clicking smartly away, and opens his eyes to watch her go. What is this? His throat wrapped round and round with blinking Christmas lights, one strand dangling down his bare chest and stomach.

14.    Miyani - Donna Flora

When he sees Lady Miyani approaching with a rustle of feathers in her moon bright Donna Flora dress, he shifts in his kneel, humiliated to be wearing felt antlers, Christmas lights, and dangling ornaments in front of her radiant, cold beauty. But she eases his worry with her breezy smile, and her cool, pale hands, slipping around and around his body, until he is wrapped snugly in broad red satin ribbon. He sucks in his stomach as she snugs the crimson bow in place just above his merry erection, his little yule log. He gives her a long, pleading look, but he can already tell that Lady Miyani has not chosen him this evening. She is giving him a skeptical smirk over her shoulder as she saunters away.

15.    Siofra - Bliss

Then he hears the silken whisper of Lady Siofra returning once again to stand before him in her magnificent Bliss gown. What gift does this woman bring? She opens her palm and shows the boy something nestled there. A small red globe. He groans inwardly, not prepared to be given a red Rudolph nose, but willing to endure it if it means this beautiful Lady will select him. He swallows and closes his eyes as her small hands move past his face to tie the nose into place. But what's this? The bump of the red ball against the boy's lips? It's not a Rudolph nose, stupid boy. It's a ball-gag. And he opens his mouth to keep that cool smile on Lady Siofra's face, and he whimpers as she buckles it snuggly in place. She gives his antler a tweak, and with a swirl of red and white satin, she is gone.

16.    Karyn  – Bliss

Trussed up in all the Christmas gear, our Dominion boy groans and twists in the cuffs that hold his arms behind his back. He just wants to go home. It doesn't even have to be with one of these icy women, who seem to care not at all for his predicament outside of their games with his body. He's sorry he ever signed up to be the boy at the Ice Queen Fashion Show.  And here comes Lady Karyn again, brilliant in her new Bliss gown. She gives the boy a disdainful looking-over before she captures his nipples with competent precision between crimson and white poinsettia nipple clips, dangling with golden chains. These little flowers make the boy's face flush as scarlet as his ribbons and he groans against the rudolph-red ball gag, all of which Lady Karyn, of course, completely ignores.

17.    Bambi – Utopia

While the wind whistles through the winter trees, Lady Bambi whistles through her pink painted lips, walking up to the Dominion boy as she tosses something back and forth in her hands. The boy registers that Lady Bambi is a dazzling vision in a pale blue gown from Utopia, but then he sees nothing at all as she secures a black satin blindfold across his eyes. She adjusts his antlers, checks the loop of lights around his throat, and flicks each of his poinsettia nipple clamps, then smirks at the top of his head and walks away, knowing that all he can hear is the fading sound of her heels and the cool hush of her dress sliding against the ground. His body leans forward, yearning for his ordeal to be concluded. If Lady Bambi is not to be his Mistress tonight, who will it be?

18.    Tora – Utopia

Could it be Lady Tora? All that bronze satin. She is refined, yet aglow with holiday glamour. But our blindfolded Dominion boy cannot appreciate her glorious gown from Utopia. He listens instead for her slippered feet, to the swish of her skirts, swaying in place as his Christmas collar blinks and his nipples throb. Is she here to claim him, finally? But no, Lady Tora smirks at the mess of holiday gear the boy has become. She strokes his flushed cheek with her cold hand, and then slaps him across the face briskly to add that bright Christmas color. The boy's cock jumps, of course, but she doesn't seem to notice or care. She attends to his other cheek, stroking, and slapping, until he's breathing hard, his jaw aches, and the glowing lights swing and sway against his bare body. Satisfied, she swirls her gown away from his kneeling form. Lady Tora clearly won't be putting him beneath her tree.

19.    Pamela – Gizza

The dazzling dark form of Lady Pamela in her spectacular Gizza gown makes the boy lift his head. He recognizes the rustling footsteps but he can't tell which Lady might be returning. Breathing hard in his Christmas entrapments, he waits in anticipatory silence. Lady Pamela's laughter is enough to identify her and he cringes and moans. Her gloved hands are on his chest, sliding something between the ribbons that bind him and his skin. What did she do? He can't tell, but we can see. It's a holiday card, with 10 beautiful signatures. When Pamela forces the card slightly open, a faint treble of music tinkles into the quiet air: "We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas…" The boy shudders and if there's a safeword being mumbled against that wet gag, we'll never know.

20.    Crissy – Gizza

Finally, like dawn arriving, the golden glow of Lady Crissy in her lustrous Gizza dress makes the boy shiver in anticipation, while his lights blink and his antlers quiver. He feels Lady Crissy's hands on his shoulders and his anticipation leaps into his throat. But this beautiful woman only turns him around to face the audience, and then, with her hand against the back of his head, forces him to bow it. The antlers wobble and wag as the boy suffers through his silent night. All is calm, all is bright in Lady Crissy's eyes as she puts the finishing touch on the boy's posture. He hears Lady Crissy leaving, the wind whispering through the winter trees outside keeping him poor company as he waits in silence.

Now we see the Ladies returning for their Finale.  But our blindfolded boy can only hear them…

Lady Destiny
Lady Joie
Lady Jade
Lady Miyani
Lady Siofra
Lady Karyn
Lady Bambi
Lady Tora
Lady Pamela
Lady Crissy

You can imagine the boy's feelings of nervous anticipation as he waits to see which of these proud women might deign to give him a drop of their holiday cheer. But none of them will allow this boy to drive their sleigh tonight. These remarkable Ladies in their glittering gowns would like to present the boy from the Ice Queen Fashion Show to Dominion's beloved Lady Evangeline Eames. Merry Christmas, Eva! Look what we've put under your tree.

Does our boy cry from fear, from relief? Don't worry, Eva, being an entirely fictional male, he's going to be perfect company throughout the holiday season.  Merry Christmas, everyone.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Impromptu Confessions Dec 10

As the sun sets on the first night of Chanukah, I say the blessing and light the helping candle. But I pause before lighting that first 'official' candle--I pause to add my own silent prayer. And this prayer must stay silent; it's not the sort to share with family! I pray that I will have many more chances to submit to the warm and beautiful woman who seems to know just how to heal my wounds.


I think She is an amazing Woman and I am enjoying the walk along the path She and I are taking. I would love to be under Her desk, hooded, my arms shacked to the underside of Her desk behind my back, the 'D' ring on my hood also fastened to the underside of Her desk with my face extended forward, the opening of my mouth stationed so that as She slide Her chair under the desk, I am there for Her pleasure.


There is a boy ... yeah I like him.
Connections come and go, some sneak up and bite you in the butt.... or is that lick you in the butt.

People can assume, question it, gossip about it.

I dont care, it's fun and fulfilling.

Life is getting better and 2012 will be a good year.


I'd like to take a trip to Londontown
See the lights and tour around
Take a stop at Tarquin's house
See if he's really as quiet as a mouse
I'd poke through his books
To see if he's well read
Or if it's just issues of hustler instead
I'd have him kneel at my feet
And make him ask for more in Dickensian speak
And after his pudding I'd root through his things
For pieces of coal or diamond rings
He says he's not so sub but I'm not so sure
A strict British domme might be the cure.


I love turning my boys into a mess and having them unable to think straight, prostrate or on their knees and wanting to cum so badly they will do anything for me....


We haven't known each other that long, and I suppose in truth I know very little about you, but when I'm allowed your attention I often find myself letting my mind wander. I know you know I'm not quite right, but you don't seem to mind that and there's comfort in this. I'd like to take a stroll with you through some wooded place, sharing stories and drinking something warm.


I just got a gift in the mail. A letter and inside the letter a baggy. I know whats in te baggy a cloth with Mistress sweet and heavenly juice from her beautiful pussy. We played a few days ago and she said if i was good i'll get a surprise and its here. i just opened it a smelled her beautiful scent. mmmmm fuck i love her pussy!


I have picked up my camera again, this one girl who has always been my muse. I lift it up and look through the lens just to see her body taut against the pine tree. I do have to be quick as it is cold outside and she is only un the layer of lace. "good girl I promise you a nice warm up." of course she cause say proper words being gaged. after taking the photos I walk over to untie her and pull her frigid body into my long coat blindly leading her into the small cabin.....maybe i'll write what happens next in another confession. (not real)


I'm in love with Miss Eva but I would never ever tell her or show her because she's too wonderful and I'm very UNWONDERFUL so it would be a disaster. But I want her to know that there is at least one person who longs to be near you all the time but would never show it.

I doubt I'm the only one.



The word drives me wild. I love it. I *crave* it. I live to hear Her say it.


The Last Candle

The church emptied quickly after Midnight Mass - people were tired and wanted to get a few hours sleep before the kids woke up at the crack of dawn.

I walked slowly around the church, putting out one candle after another, leaving darkness behind me.

Suddenly, as I approached the last remaining candle, I heard a voice from the pew, "hold it right there, boy." The voice was low and measured yet commanding. I froze mid-step, my heart suddenly pounding, having thought I was alone in the church.

I heard footsteps coming up behind me but didn't dare even turn my head to look. Suddenly my hands were yanked behind my back and bound with some sort of rope and I felt a hand push me down, "kneel, boy" came the low whisper in my ear, "you are in church after all".

I knelt.

I watched black, high-heeled boots walk to the last candle and suddenly the light moved behind me and I was utterly blind in the dark.

I felt hands unbutton my pants and pull out my shamefully erect, throbbing cock.

"Do you like candles, boy? A little wax, perhaps?"

I was breathing shallow and quick and could barely squeak out, ", Ma'am".

The wax fell onto my exposed cock and I prayed as I had never prayed in that church before - a prayer of thanks, a prayer for mercy, all rolled into one.

To be continued.....


The truth is I wander around the streets at night. The houses around my own twinkle in the surrounding darkness, and I think of Her, as I become memorized by the flicker of them. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought, I shouldn't be thinking of Her in such a way... but I do, I clench my sweater tighter to myself. My breathe now visible from the dropping temperature.

She loves the holidays and I'd love nothing more than to comfort Her during this season of togetherness. I'd make her hot chocolate, accompanied by freshly baked cookies, just for Her.

Perhaps she'll like me more if I were wrapped up like an elaborate Christmas gift, or bound in these festive lights at illuminate these houses around me.

I'll shimmer for Her. The bulbs will keep my flesh warm as well.

It's a nice Christmas wish at least...


Oh delicious boy with your bag of tricks, meeting me in the hotel for fun and frolics. All these toys and never used one ..... "wow" I say. The voice in my head says "ching ching ching jackpot!" You are very excited ... too excited, I think you are going to cum beore I even get my socks off. Now what to choos what to choose ...ohh hand and ankle cuff.yes yes. Your breathing is laboured as you strip and I chain you up. "Thank you Mistress" you whisper . I search yourbag for more toys ..posture collar .. ooh lube - yes yes and oh lordy lordy a strap on. Soon after you're pinned over a desk as I fuck you harder, your cries of pain and shock .. I think you fucked yourself a lot gentler than I did. You slump to the floor like a wet rag but I'm not finished I want to get off too ...goddamit now I have to show you where my clit is! Yes there there no dont move your fuckin fingers you idiot! That's better mmmmmm.
Of course you fell in love with me .... I had taken your ass virginity but you denied being submissive .. no MIstress I am not submissive you said I dommed youYou heard it here if you know where the clit is you are a dom .... boys will be boys.


Santa Comes To Town by Benedict

Who are you calling "ho?"
by miscellaneous sub number 43

With a grunt and a weary chuckle, Santa stuffs himself into the chimney and zips himself down and out, warping time and space in his festive way.. Before him is a lovely room, with an elegant Christmas tree with presents at its foot. He steps forward to do his work, unslinging the huge bag of non-Euclidean geometry on his shoulder.


Santa lands on his face, smashing his red button nose hard into the carpeted floor. He was tripped. Having trouble turning over, he is baffled to see that some kind of rope snare is around his ankles, cinched tight. He ponderously sits up, and takes off his mittens to try to get it off.


A tug on his neck pulls Santa back flat onto his back. He is dragged along the floor by his neck, a noose of sturdy rope tied around it. He hears the grunting of a woman, struggling to haul his bulk, and tries to look up to see her, but he can't pivot his head. He is pulled until he is stretched out, the rope on his ankles fastened to some fixed anchor, and the rope on his wrists now pulled taut and tied off at the other end somewhere.

Santa is not afraid, per se. He has seen extremely naughty behavior before, and has had some close calls. But this is new and alarming. He grunts, straining at the ropes, his belly jiggling like a bowl full of jelly. He listens now, but no one is stirring, not even a mouse.

He hears her breathing as she steps into view. A woman in pajamas. Of height, middle build, early middle age. She smiles, but her happy face is not the face of an expectant innocent hoping for a new bike. It is something...different.

"Young lady, I insist that you--"

"Shut up. Do not speak." she says with such finality that he finds himself falling silent, if only to hear what could motivate this woman to speak to him in such a tone.

"Good boy," she purrs, and Santa can feel his face redden with anger.

"Now see--" he begins.


His thigh stings as though cut. She has struck him there with something long and thin that moved to fast to see. The pain is surprising...burning and throbbing and seeming to spread through his whole lower body.

"You will not speak," she informs him. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, but--"


It hurts more this time.

"You will not speak," she repeats, slowly and clearly. "Do you understand?"

Santa nods, cringing a bit, worrying that even that might get him whipped again.

"Good boy," she purrs again. His relief at not getting hit again makes the phrase sound like a thank you, or an apology.

"We have a lot of work to do," the woman explains. "So let's get started. You will address me as Beloved Miss. Say it."

He hesitates.


"Say it."

"Be...beloved Mistress..." he stammers.

"Good boy. This is going to go just fine. Just relax and listen and obey a few simple instructions, and in time you'll find everything falling into place."


Working Late Part1 by Lady Norma

Working Late Part 1
By: Norma Lisle

She had noticed him for some time now. How he moves, speaks, works hard. His thoughtful gestures like holding the elevator open for people when they were running late and how he stops by the local Starbucks on he’s way into work just because he knows she loves a good chai latte, something that she mentioned only once to him.

She knows that he is devoted to work because it’s nearing 6:30PM on a Friday evening and he like her was still there. They were almost always the last ones to leave every day. This was something she had noticed for a long time now as the view from her large wooden desk allows her to see him. She herself really doesn’t need to work tonight but is finding the view just too tantalizing to go home just yet.

It wasn’t that he was handsome in the conventional sense of the word, but there was something behind the clean cut exterior that she found attractive. Maybe it was his smile or his beautiful dark eyes that were hidden behind the glasses he wore that she liked. Or maybe it was his thick wavy hair that she liked as she had imagined grabbing hold his locks more then once.

All sorts of thoughts are running though her mind, as it has been some time since someone peaked her interest.

Robert, she yells “it looks like it might be only you and me left here tonight.. When are you planning on going home?” he stands up.. And walks to the entry of her office but does not set a foot inside “ I’m not sure Ms.. Its not like I have a reason to run home and the cat has enough food so I don’t have to worry about feeding her” . “Ok then Robert , she responds… how about this then… lets work about another 15 minutes and then you walk me to my car ” Oh sure thing Ms Kensington… sounds like a plan.

Oh how she loved to hear him call her that. It didn’t matter to her that he was her employee or that he was ten years her junior, all she knew is that when he spoke it stirred something in her that had been asleep and it felt good to feel that rush again.

The next fifteen minutes seem to take forever. She wasn’t sure how she should do it but she knew she had to do something. She wrote her home address on the back of her business card along with her personal cell number and put it into her coat pocket hoping that she would know when the time would be right.

On the dot at 6:45pm , he stood up.. put his jacket on. and said.. “ ok Ms , I’m ready if you are” with that she stood as she had been read for a while.

They walked side by side to the elevator as she smiled thinking how she had never really been happy to be on the eightieth floor of this downtown high rise until now. As the doors open she steps inside and leans against the back railing and leaves it to him to press the button to the garage.

Her hand slides into her coat pocket and touches the card when all of a sudden as the doors as the close a voice from no where yells.. “Can you hold that for me” Robert quickly puts his hand out and pushes the doors apart. It was Jack, the evening janitor. He rolls in a trash can , smiles and tells Robert “ Buddy can you press 75 for me “ and then gives them both a smile.. and says “ burning the midnight oil again huh”.. Robert replies for both of them with a simple “Yup” and before she knows it.. Jack say’s thanks again buddy and steps out of the elevator.

Alone again, she thinks, as the doors shut . She closes her eyes and holds onto the card. “Robert, any plans tonight?” No Ms… he says, just planning on picking up some take out and then heading home.. real exciting life I have, right”

She takes a step closer as he stands facing the doors of the elevator , deciding its now of never. Taking a deep breath she places her hands on his biceps and notices that he does not resist..
“ Am I making you feel uncomfortable Robert, she says”.. no Ms not at all.. he replies. She continues to slide her hands down his arms until they are around his wrists and slowly moves them behind his back. Holding them as though he is her prisoner.

She looks up and notices she has about another 45 floors until the doors open again. “Robert” she says, I know you might this this bold but I was wondering if you would be so inclined to stop by my home in lets say about an hour.. I’m having a small party and would like it if you could come by. She then reaches into her pocket and takes her business card out and places it into the palm of his hand and then forces his hand shut. Feeling a bit bold she leans in close to his ear and whispers “stop and get a nice bottle of Clos du Bois Merlot.. Its my favorite” as she speaks every word she utters is like a drug to him and he feels his head start to spin and his heart race. He closes his eyes taking in the moment..” her lips brush against his earlobe.

Just as quickly as it had happened the doors open and she says“ Perfect then see you in about an hour, Robert, He walks her to her car. and opens the door to her Silver Jaguar as she steps in .. and slowly closes it. She rolls down the window and says “Robert, everything they say about me is true to some extent but I promise I’m not nearly the Hannibal Lecter they paint me to be… just know that your in control just as much as I am.. If you have second thoughts simply say so , with that she starts up the engine and drives off.

To be continued....

Windows by Andy

As I gaze into the window, I can see her again. Her flesh her bodice, everything. I shiver with anticipation, ready to watch the show. I know I should control myself, but I’m already naked. She couldn’t see me of course, they could never hear me. I’m no good with women anyways. I lick my lips, seeing her spread legs, chest out, hands moving to pleasure herself. Oh god...I cant control myself. I cant help it, and look into a new window. Another one. One just as beautiful as the last. Naked, in front of me, and still unable to see. My heart rate runs wild, sweat dripping down my nose as I stroke myself off. I just cant get enough as I move on to the next window. Again, a woman, perfect in every way shape and form in front of me. I stroke harder, faster, my moans so load, yet never alerting her. She stays perfect. Another window, so many windows. Oh god. Another. Urgggg. ANOTHER. IT happens. I finished, made myself filthy. 'Why don’t they talk to me?' I think to myself. Its because I am useless, and no woman would go out with a slob like me. The women in the windows, they will never yell at me. They will never call me lazy. They will never hurt me or call me sick. I wipe myself clean with a tower, letting out a sigh. Then I do as I always do after such a thing, I flip my laptop closed, and head to bed.

Wet by Jennifer

I feel your wet, naked skin pressed against my own. I feel your warmth and the subtle beating of your heart as it drums in time with the dancing of my tongue across your lips.

My hips cradled just inside yours, water dripping from your skin to mine in a seamless stream as if we were one.. your chemistry is magnetism, and I, the helpless onlooker, drawn to you, held to you.

To lose contact with your body is to lose myself, because in this moment my eyes are captive, lost among the stars in your own; and my lips are locked: speechless, but never silent, as long as their caress is felt.

My fingers skim the surface of the muscles on your back, strong and calm; I feel your arms wrapped around me in a mirrored embrace, and if the world stopped we would remain frozen in an open portal between our two hearts.

Faucet turns, water stops, ears adjust to a new kind of silence. I feel, rather than hear, your desire, as your breaths come racing into the room in rapid bursts. Towels brandished, drying each other: gentle, each touch promising of the next. Then, we are dry. Enough. My hand light in yours, fingertips kissing, I pull you into my bedroom. The door is closed.

My body still turned towards the door, before I can face you, I feel your tender breasts, smooth and firm against my back, as your arms wrap around my hips. Your breath is warm against my neck, rippling individual hairs as they stand on edge in suspense.

Tension builds in my shoulders as you deftly flick your tongue over every inch of my neck and sensitive ears. Your fingers glide along my hipbone and my mind is wandering through forbidden valleys of fantasies as I imagine all the places on my body that your fingers and your tongue could reach if they only dared.

I feel venomous desire coursing through my veins. Words halt, suspended in another time and place, as the only thoughts left in my mind transform and evolve, expand in abstract absolution, knowing only your scent and your touch, knowing only that I need your lips to set me free.

I hear the rhythm of the moonlight crashing overhead, feel the whispering starlight racing down to set fire to my nerves, striking frenzy into my heart, and through this deafening sensation--fettered as is my mind--I manage only to turn and grasp you by your hips, forcing you back against some surface in my desperation.

I manage only to lean forward, lips barely able to stand such proximity to your beautiful ears, begging to feel my touch; manage only to whisper so inaudibly that the current must surely be carried by my passion itself; manage only to utter.. "Take me. I am yours."

The Secret by Rebelpoet

Mistress told me if I was to be hers i would have to voice. And I was terrified to be that open. I couldn't hide behind text, she would hear the truth in my voice. But I went and got a microphone that worked. My stomach was doing butterflies, my breathing was so fast, I was sweating, and thought I would throw up. But Mistress coached me into talking. And we talked in a sim park and I started telling her everything. How I had been agoraphobic and didn't leave my home for a year, how I had had panic attacks all the time, and was terrified al the time. How I wanted to be a real sub but was too scared to go out in public. I kept thinking that at any minute she would reject me and not want to be with me. But instead she offered her protection. And I accepted.
Later that night, Mistress told me over mic, "I want you to wear my ribbon," Mistress said over her mic.
"I don't understand," I replied.
"Go and get a ribbon," she ordered.
I went to the closet and opened up the Christmas wrapping box filled with bows, cards, ribbon, tape. I found a piece of red ribbon and returned to my computer and told her I had it.
Now she said, "Tie it in a bow at the head of your cock."
I knew better then to argue and slipped off my shorts and underwear.
"Now before you tie it, I want you to stroke your cock eight times. "I want you to count it off and thank me for each one."
I took my hand and stroked my limp cock from it's base to the head. "One Mistress, thank you, Mistress." I reached down and grabbed the base again and ran my hand already up my cock. "Two Mis. . . " and my Internet cut out.
"Start over you broke off and I didn't hear you."
I groaned.
"It's not my fault you have crappy internet."
I started again, "One Mistress, Thank you Mistress." As I continued to stroke my cock started to get hard. I thought to myself if I mess up she will make me start over and I can touch my cock more. I hadn't been allowed to touch it for two days. But instead I followed her orders and got through to the count of eight.

"Now boy, tie that ribbon to your cock. Do you know why I asked you to do that?"
I thought about it and finally said, "You talked about how I would always feel you with me and this reminds me of that."
"Oh good, Mine", she squealed. "Exactly.. It's bearing my mark for a short while to remind you your mine and of your commitment."
Then I eagerly tied the ribbon in a bow around my cock and tied it tight. i wore it all the next day. When I moved it reminded me that I was hers. And a smile would come to my face knowing that i was secretly wearing something that was like she had given to me. It was our own dirty secret. She finally let me take it off, but I keep the ribbon by my bed and it helps me to remember that I am hers.

Mine by Lady Fallen

Distance hurts
Need to touch
To feel
Mark you as mine
Eyes seeing you
Through a screen
Dreams of reaching
Fingers encircling your throat
Pressing gently
Then firmer
Making you gasp for air
Desire growing
To punish you
For making me
My voice taunts
Your hand
Sliding up and down
Your cock hard
So hard
A naked body
Writhing on the bed
An arm outstretched
Gripping covers tightly
Fighting to control
Your moans drive me
I moisten my lips
Hungry for you
And take you further
Leading you
Making brief stops
Before pushing on
A whimper
A breathless plea
Please Mistress
Who are you?
I ask
Your voice hoarse
Your slut
Your whore
I urge
Please Mistress
Your back arched
Your body glistens
Heat radiating
From you
To me
Please Mistress
May I
Your words
Dragged from you
I pause briefly
Watching you
Touching the screen
And breathe
My words float over
Eyes open
Your face contorts
You still briefly
A cry escapes
Your body releases
And shudders
You lay spent
Distance hurts
But your submission
Your gift
Make you mine

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Hurt by Anonymous Domme

I knew you … I knew you for the longest time …. At least I thought I did.
In the end I didn’t know where the illusion ended and the real you began.
We were friends
Not best friends … but friends non the less
Bound by nationality and humour
Occasionally speaking … taunting … teasing
Then silence
I heard you had fallen in love
I heard that you had been hurt
I heard you were finding it hard to cope
You turned to your second life
It was easier than coping with your first
Your friends gathered around you
Supporting you
Keeping you from sinking
You started to recover
Immersing yourself in make believe
We played the story out
But you ran away
The edges between the real and imaginary
Blurred in your mind
I should have known then
But how could I?
I coaxed you back
Into my space
Until one day I held out my hand
And you reached for it
You were mine
Domme and sub
Mistress and boy
Lover and friend
We were so happy
So happy
Until that moment
That heart stopping moment
That I realised you were not real
All you said all you did
Not real
And if it was how could I tell the difference
When I had found out your lies
Then what was truth?
You were indignant
Without trust there is nothing
You said
How can you not trust me?
You said
I loved you
I wanted to believe you
But you had let me get too close
Your mask was slipping
Reality was facing you
And that could not be allowed
Because I don’t think you even knew
What was black and what was white
You did what you had to do
You wiped me out of your life
Without missing a step
I was no longer part of your first
Or your second
I was nothing to you anymore ….
I knew you for the longest time
At least I thought I did

Las Vegas Confession by Russell

What happens in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas, that is the popular slogan, but I will not agree with it anymore.
I travelled to Las Vegas on a business trip recently and instead of the usual stories about gambling, bright lights, beautiful people and wonderful shows, I walked away with a life experience that I won’t soon forget.
Monday evening and my work was completed, I walked along Freemont Street with some of my students doing the usual tourist stuff, watching the street performers, listening to the bands and drinking. Down the street I saw a woman dressed in a latex & leather cat suit with high heeled boots laced up to mid- thighs all topped off with dark sun glasses and a leather set of cat ears on her auburn hair.
Please don’t get me wrong; along with me she caught the attention of men, woman and children alike as she danced in front of the stage. She would dance around them drawing them into the stage area enticing them to dance, all ages she would eventually get them dancing. To myself I thought she was a performer paid by the venues to get crowd participation, I would later learn this was far from the truth.
As the evening wore on I found myself crossing paths with this auburn haired “Catwoman” as I wandered around. I was shocked when she walked up to me and asked for a drink of my beer which I had only just started to drink. I handed her the bottle and told her to enjoy but it would cost her a picture later when I had my camera equipment, she jokingly said no problem and wandered away as I watched her go.
The next evening it was pretty much the same thing as on Monday, doing my job, entertaining my students as we looked on at the Vegas nightlife. It was then that I saw “Catwoman” down the street, she was in between 2 very big men who seemed ready to beat each other senseless after a few minutes she had them laughing and finally they parted ways with no violence. I had an inspiration to do something I rarely do, I bought 2 beers and walked up to “Catwoman” and handed her one and told her that she did a good job at keeping the peace. Taking the beer she drank it as we walked around talking about the different people she seemed to have in-depth knowledge of. I will admit it was a pleasant experience to have the company of this lady and I was very happy to learn that she not only was beautiful, but also very intelligent, but she didn’t divulge too much about herself other than dressing up like “Catwoman” wasn’t her full time job. I looked down at my watch and realized it was 2 in the morning and I was due back in the classroom in a few hours, I said goodnight and headed back to my hotel.
Wednesday brought me a big surprise, as I walked out of my hotel I saw ‘Catwoman” motioning me over to her. She remarked that she enjoyed the company of the previous evening and asked if I wanted to hang out for the evening again. In my head I am running different scenarios, 1) she is setting me up to be robbed. 2) She is a hooker or escort and I am the gullible out of town dumbass ready to max out a credit card for something that I will never have. As this was running through my head she started talking saying that if I was to be with her tonight I needed to go and change out of my business casual into jeans and a t-shirt and leave my wallet and valuables in my room so we didn’t attract attention. A voice in my head said “RUN AWAY” but I was very curious about what was to happen. I asked Catwoman what she had in mind. Her reply was that she had a route she needed to go through and some of the streets weren’t the nicest, the type of streets that the tourist board likes to believe doesn’t exist. Asking her if we were doing anything illegal she just laughed and said that we were doing the complete opposite and to just shut up, change and lets get on the road.
A few minutes later we were walking along Freemont as we stopped often , she introduced me to a dozen people who were performing on the street. She introduced me to her friends and then chatted with each one for a short time before we wandered to the next spot. This process repeated itself many times, and after a bit I overheard enough to figure out what she was doing. Each of these people had a problem that Catwoman was helping them with, legal & Social Security Issues, obtaining ID’s, counseling them on the ordinances of vagrancy.
When I finally had her alone I asked what she was up to and she just smiled and said she was paying back a debt to someone special and then brushed me off as she walked away. At that time it was around 1 am in the morning and we came across a mid-age woman who was on the sidewalk crying, she was homeless, running away from an abusive husband and had just gotten to Las Vegas the day before. She had just been robbed of her back pack and all of her clothing and roughed up by the duo who did it. ‘Catwoman” reached into her boot and extracted a cell phone calling the police who showed up in short order taking a report and left. “Catwoman” pulled me off to the side and asked if I would be willing to let them come back to my room, which wasn’t too far so she could get the homeless woman cleaned up.
Looking into her eyes I could see that I had no choice but to say yes, and we went back to my hotel. Catwoman spent some time with the homeless woman getting her tended to and then she came back into my room sat down in a chair and sat down looking at me..She not only looked at me but I felt she was staring into my made me shiver. She asked in a very nice tone if I would mind if 2 woman slept on the second bed in my room for the night and she would have the lady out in the morning. I should of said no or at least gave it more thought but I said yes and I fell on my bed and went to sleep.
Waking up in the morning I saw them both sleeping and I got ready for my day and left the room. During the day I was tempted to go back to the room as I had left some expensive items lying on my dresser such as my camera but I just knew it was all safe.
When my day was finished I went back to my room, my valuables were still there and the room was in order, I then saw a note from Catwoman on my pillow that said thank you and that if I wanted to see her she would meet me at the end of Freemont street.
That night while not as eventful as the night before never the less left a lasting impression on my life. We went out for dinner and drinks and then I found out Catwoman was an attorney who spent time on the streets during her younger days and that someone special to her picked her up and mentored her into getting her law degree. She goes on the streets often doing her Pro Bono work for the homeless and that’s her way of paying back her debt.
I looked at this petite lady and I instantly could see the power she had, her power wasn’t flaunted but it was perceptible to me, She was able to walk down streets I feared to go, she was able to stop 2 men intent on killing each other, and in the next instant she was showing such a tender side as she hugged a child or posed for a picture with a elderly couple. This ‘Catwoman though only in my life for a few days will be in my thoughts for the rest of my life..that is the true power of a Lady

Blackmailed by Heather

The letters came two weeks apart. I laughed at the first one, set it on fire and never thought of it again. The second one was a little more serious. It had a whole 'I know what you did last summer' feeling to it, except this one had nothing to do with what I did last summer. "I know all about you. I can out you. You don't seem the type who'd want that. Expect another letter." My eyebrows raised a little when I noticed the fine print on the bottom. "Oh, and this time, try not to set anything on fire."

The urge to laugh was long gone, someone wanted to out me, though I had no idea what that outing exactly meant. I came out of the closet a long time ago and I couldn't think of anything else I wouldn't want the whole world to know. I glanced at the paper again and wondered how this person knew I set the first letter on fire when it hit me. I was being watched.

I ran to the windows and closed every curtain in the house. I felt sick. I was trying to think who could do this. The old ouple on the other side of the street didn't seem like the type to do this. I didn't want to take a peek through the window in case some black car would be parked along the curbe with two men in dark suits and sunglasses and perhaps a gun in their tight jackets.

My heart was pounding faster and faster and I didn't think I would get any sleep, but when I went to lay down I must have fallen asleep in an instant, as I woke up several hours later feeling fully rested. When I got dressed and walked downstairs I got goosebumps. There was a letter on the table, addressed to me. Someone had been in my house, when I was sound asleep.

My hands trembled as I opened the envelop. "You're almost cute when you're asleep. You can go back upstairs, change your outfit, I put one aside in your bathroom, I'm suprised you haven't seen it yet. You will drive to the hotel, this isn't such a big town, you'll know which one to go to. Go to the reception, there is a reservation on the name Robyn DeCradle. You will go to the room, it's on the 7th floor, you will find a blindfold on the bed, obviously you're going to wear it and you're going to sit on the bed and wait for me to come in."

I choked. I looked for a fine print on the bottom of the letter but found none. I was flabbergasted to say the least. I was in turmoil on what to do. Should I go? What would happen if I didn't. I had work to do. Who was this person anyway?!

I walked back up the stairs, it wouldn't hurt to see what this person had picked out for me, even though I was freaking out that someone had been in my house. On the bathroom, neatly stacked next to towels lay a skirt, a blouse and a pair of boots. No underwear, no bra. I slipped out of my clothing, to afraid of what would happen if I didn't show up. This person had watch me sleep, perhaps next time they'd watch a knife slit my throat.

Once dressed, I got in my car and drove to the hotel. I was weak on my feet, trembling, scared to death when I was asked the clerk for the key and even more shocked when he smirked at me and handed me the keycard. "Enjoy your stay!"

As I stepped into the elevator my heart was pounding, I tucked my blouse deeper into my skirt and when I heard the ding of the elevator I nearly had a heartattack.

I slowly walked to the room, praying that the keycard wouldn't work, but the door popped open within a second. As I closed the door, I leaned against and took a few deep breaths. Should I keep my phone with me, should I call the police? I glanced over at the bed and saw the blindfold.

A strange sensation shot through my body and I cursed myself for getting aroused. I couldn't find a suitable place for my phone, so I just stuffed it under the bed, hoping I could reach it in time in case some maniac came through that door.

I slipped the blindfold over my head as I sat down on the bed and waited, waited and waited. What seemed like hours probably only took a few minutes. I could hear the soft beep of the door, as it unlocked, opened, and fell in it's lock again. I wanted to rip the blindfold of my head, but was too scared to move. I heard heels. A woman? The clicking stopped a few inches from me and a finger traced down my collarbone as I heard a soft voice speak, "Hello slut."

That voice. Where had I heard that before?

To be continued..

Why I Came To You by Rebelpoet

I came to you to be abused.
I wanted to be raped and humiliated.
I expected brutality and disdain
I wanted to be hit over and over again.
To be called unthinkable names.
I wanted to be ashamed.
I needed you to validate my negative worth.
I needed you to confirm my misogynistic beliefs.
I came before you and you had me strip and then lie
Down naked in front of you. Finally, I thought, she will
Make fun of my body, she will hit me, she will hurt me.
I have nothing to offer I thought. I was in this for me.

But you refused. Instead you treasured my body.
Embraced me and called me "beautiful" in your eyes.
Drew me to you, held me in your arms, kissed me.
Left me confused and vulnerable. Where I sought hate,
I got love. By giving me love, you showed me I had value.
And I am discovering that by being given love,
I have something to offer.

So I give to you my body.
I give to you my love. I give to you my submission.
I give what is most valuable, what is most precious,
I give to you me.

Interlude by Lady Jami

by Jami Titanium

I remember when our eyes met in the dimly lit bar. I was sipping a margarita that was too heavy on the tequilla. I'm sure the bartender thought he was doing me a favor by loading the drink up on alcohol but it just made the drink bitter and I was inclined to wrinkle my nose each time I swallowed, licking the salt from the edge of the glass to try to cut away the bite of the acid.

I could tell he was lost. Maybe not literally but certainly figuratively. You don't come into a seedy bar after five and just before dinner dressed to the nines and tugging on your tie with a five o'clock shadow like that unless your day's been shit or you have nothing to go home to. I looked at his hand where the white ring of untanned skin gave him away and nearly snorted into my drink. Oh yeah... he was a man lost.

There was an urgent cool about him. He was looking for something as he sat down at the bar and I wondered briefly if he was like the other afterhour suits and just here to flirt and buy a lady a drink. It's almost a matter concerning causality... they claim stress or need or the wife isn't giving it to them. They are too cheap to get a hooker or too scared of disease, so they come to the bar somehow thinking they will get a cheaper and safer thrill. They don't really want to get laid... they just want to know they still can. They are seeking out their youth.

I sighed into my drink and remembered so many years ago an evening in my youth. I'd been out "cruising" the strip. My best friend had convinced her father to let her borrow her his red convertible and we had the top down. We'd been at a stop light when I saw them kissing on the street corner... my father and the bombshell blonde with the red, red lips who was not my mother.

We'd followed him for blocks before he finally saw us. That night he came to my bedroom and made me swear not to tell my mother. I never did. But I never forgave him either.

I turned my attention back to the man at the bar. He was handsome really and I smiled... forcefully. I could tell he was surprised as he looked away and I slid off the bar stool and moved over to him, laughing as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "This one's not taken." I said. He shook his head and I motioned to the bartender. "I"ll have another margaritta... this time don't add the extra tequilla."

I reached into the glass with the my thumb and index finger and gently removed the lime wedge from between two cubes of ice and licked the fruit and nibbled at the corner of the pith. The man looked at me and I smiled again. "Thanks for the drink," I said.

He looked at me a little dumbounded and said simply, "Sure, anytime..."

I set the lime wedge on a napkin and licked off my fingers. I have long fingers with delicately curved nails. He watched and I saw him lick his lips and I knew I had him.

"I'm Edward," he said.

He was in his late forties, maybe early fifties. A beautiful man, really, with grey at the temples and a square jaw and enough beard shadow to be rugged without looking unkept. I smiled. "Hello, Edward."

He blinked. "Do you have name?" he said.

The bartender returned with my second drink and set it down in front of me. "Pick up your drink" I said. He did so and I lifted mine and we clinked classes and I saw him shift in his seat before he took a deep swallow of the whiskey he was drinking, throwing it back like it was a life preserver. And maybe is was for a man like him, with so much to lose. He set his glass back down and I did the same and then I motioned with a finger for him to lean in so I could whisper in his ear. He leaned forward. I think he actually expected me to say my name.

I licked the outer edge of his ear, tasting the salt on his skin like it was the rim of my glass and he shuddered. The lights flickered and the bartender winked over at him, a conspiratorial smile. I looked the bartender in the eye and shook my head. He looked away.

"Miss?" Edward said.

"Yes?" I said.

"Your name?"

"Miss will do." I said.

I nipped his earlobe then and he shuddered again. "Yes, Miss..." he said quietly.

I took his hand and turned his palm over and began tracing the lifeline there. It was long and unbroken. He curled his fingers inward and his palm crinkled reflexively. "Penny for your thoughts?" he said.

I nodded and leaned over and looked more closely at the lines. I wasn't a palm reader but I new a little about reflexology. I pinched the the skin between his thumb and forefinger and saw him crinkle his brow. "I think you have a headache." I said.

He nodded this time. "What do you do? Are you a masseause?" He said.

I laughed and took another sip of my drink. "Tonight I am your date." I stood and took his hand and led him to the center of the floor. There was no dance floor, just a clear space where customers were vying for room to get to the bar and he looked embarassed when I put his hands on my waist and swayed my hips in time to the beat of the jazz music that was playing over the radio. But soon he was moving too and then he smiled. "Miss?" he said.


He leaned forward and for a moment I thought he might try to kiss me, then he ducked his head and looked ashamed. I smiled and lifted his arm and twirled under it as the music moved us. When the song stopped I dropped his hands and got my coat from the hook beside the door. He came up behind me and lifted it over my shoulders.

"Miss?" he said.


"Will I see you again?"

"No," I said. I kissed his jaw, touched the white line on his left ring finger as he tried to hide it behind his back, and I walked out the door.