Saturday, February 26, 2011

Submission To Me by Rile

My knees set upon the cold floor
This treatment makes my body quake
But I find myself needing more
This feeling in me will not shake
My pucker grips upon the plug
I hear her voice as I grow firm
Soon I feel her begin to tug
My lust fills the air, as I squirm
Another's laugh could then be heard
Embarrassment hit, and I moaned
I then released when given word
In her grip, I am truly owned.....

Le loup (francais et anglais) Clarissa Greymoon

Il aime se voir en loup, vous faites de l'homme un chien
Dressé, domestiqué, qui vous mange dans la main,
Se tapit à vos pieds sur un ordre, sur un geste
Et accepte sur son cou la traction de la laisse

Vous, vous vous amusez de voir le petit mâle
Privé de sa fierté, réduit en animal
Quémandant désormais tellement il vous admire
La joie de devenir votre objet de plaisir

Il se transforme pour vous en créature rampante
Pour exalter la féminité triomphante,
Qui fait de vous la reine et de lui le vassal
Et de son corps soumis votre humble piédestal

Vous êtes la conquérante redoutable et sublime
Qui embrase les désirs, les pulsions qui m'animent
Tour à tour femme, amazone, déesse prédatrice
Intelligente, subtile, idole inspiratrice !

He sees himself as a wolf, you make a dog of the man,
Trained and domesticated, who eats out of your hand
Kneels at your feet on command, at a gesture
And accepts the lead when his neck is pulled
Your are amused to watch the small male
Deprived of his pride, reduced to an animal,
Henceforth begging in fervent admiration
His joy to become your object of pleasure.

Transformed for you in a grovelling beast,
To exalt the triumphant feminine,
Making you Queen and him vassal
And his subjected body your humble pedestal

You are the formidable and sublime conqueror
Who sets wishes ablaze,and enlivens impulses ;
And in turn woman, amazon, predatory goddess
Clever, stubble, inspiring idol !

Her Morning by Busty Miles

She rose from her bed, her head still groggy and her eyes half closed as she tried to shake off the sleep that clung to her like the humid air that was barely stirred by the ceiling fan above. The dream was still in her mind, as many nights before that she dreamed of him…his body bare before her…exposed…glistening…weak…but somehow strong. The once sharp image of him vanished though, like dreams do…leaving her the all together feeling of disappointment, sadness, loss.

Looking over beside her, the bed was empty. Her husband had gone to make the coffee as was his task. She took this moment of solitude to wipe the moistness from her eyes and arranged her sadness into its familiar shield…hiding in the contours of her body and the lines on her face. She suppressed her bitterness, stuffing it away in that dark void, the place where we hide those feelings we don’t want to feel. This was her morning, the way she started her day, her ritual from the moment the boy left her.

She rose, she bathed, she took the sweet coffee handed to her by her dear husband, a smile on her face and a kiss for him. She went to her computer…her work waiting…her other life waiting…she smiled wistfully…the dream forgotten.

Dinner Party By Anonymous


Another long day at the office.
Running a property management firm is not for the lazy I thought.
Driving home in the swirling snow.
Traffic stop and go…more stop than go it seemed.
Finally pulling into my driveway.
Engine off, lights off, radio off, self……off.
I just sat for a while, resting, watching the snowflakes drift down and cover the windshield.
Ahhhh, he was home….good…..lights on in the kitchen.
My boy was fixing something for us.
As I left the car…I noticed the other cars parked on the street.
Someone must be having a party.
I hoped there wouldn’t be any loud music keeping me up tonight.
I unlocked the door with my key and slipped inside.
It was quiet….so quiet.
He must still be in the kitchen.
I hung my coat on the hook by the door and headed to the dining room.
As I entered the room…my mind was still in a haze of work, traffic, weather….
The lights were low.
I skirted around the end of the table toward the kitchen.
But then……something was wrong.
The table chairs were all lined up by the wall.
I opened my eyes wider and stared at them…then….then
Glanced back at the table.
Where there was….a backless stool in place
NO…wait…..that was a naked man on hands and knees by the head of the table.
I was…confused….
Then my boy’s voice came from the kitchen doorway.
Boy stood there, naked except for a small towel over his forearm.
I hope you don’t mind Mistress, but….some old friends of mine stopped by…
And…..volunteered to help with dinner this evening.
At this….another male, wearing a tight red vest…and nothing else, stepped past boy.
You can just call them boy A and boy B if you like Mistress, they have no names tonight.
A… walked calmly to me and kneeled by my feet holding up a single rose.
I took the rose from him, and noted B looking up from his position by the table.
I hope you don’t mind the seating arrangements Mistress, but B’s back will be much more comfortable than the usual chairs.
Boy reached for my free hand and led me to the table where he indicated I should sit
On B’s broad back.
A… had gone back to the kitchen, and now came out with a tray of various light snacks.
Boy smiled at me and softly said…..I thought you might not want a ….heavy meal tonight Mistress.
Boy brought from a side table, at steaming pot of…..tea.
As he poured, my hands drifted down to my….chair.
My left hand fingers slid up B’s neck, into his hair.
My right hand slid down the other side to….oh my!
Where was ..A?.., then…a small cough…by my feet…under the table.
May I, he said….as he gently began to remove my shoes.
Boy continued fixing my tea….putting in a little honey….such a sweet boy.
It steamed from my cup.
A... one at a time began to massage my poor tired feet, while B..seemed to move subtly beneath me.
Small movements of his back muscles…vibrated up into my…..core.
Boy gazed into my eyes as he stirred my tea.
His adoring look asking if I was pleased with the dinner arrangements.
As ..A..began to slickly suck on my toes…
and B began to breath rhythmically as my right hand explored,
I looked at boys face and said…..I do hope our dinner party doesn’t disturb the neighbors tonight…..Mine.

Confession By Heather Steampunk

On the 18th of April 2009 I found this poem:

To be your lover when you need to be loved,
your doctor when you are ill,
your army when you go to war,
your umbrella when life rains down on you,
your rock when you get weary,
your shield when you need defense,
your spirit when you are drained,
your pillow when you need to rest,
your voice when no one can hear you,
your ear when no one will listen,
your comfort when you feel pain,
your hero when you are under duress,
your sunshine when darkness falls,
your answer when questions arise,
your inspiration to overcome obstacles,
your hand to hold when you are frightened,
your kiss that wakes you everyday,
and your "I love you" each and every night

at that time it ment the world to me, and when I read it now, it makes me feel warm inside. I remember how I felt, I remember all to well what I desired but what never happened.

What did happen was that I let this Lady down. I made a choice and it was the wrong choice and by making that chose, I destroyed every bit of trust I had built up with this Lady. I am extremely ashamed that I did this. What I did .. I want to keep it in the past, it's history.

In life people get a chance. A chance to make an everlasting impression, when making the right decision, you make a good impression, you make friends, you live your life to the fullest and enjoy it. Sometimes, when you make the wrong choice, you get another chance. To undo what you did wrong. I was given that chance. No words will ever express how thankful I am for my second chance. No words will ever describe the graditude I feel and how humbled I am by the fact that I was giving this second chance.

This Lady, after two years, still means the world to me. She will have a place in my heart that cannot be taken by anyone else. She has been my sounding board, my advice giver, my friend, my ass kicker, my second chance giver.

So, today, almost two years later, I want to say .. Miss Zarita, thank You for all You have done for me, thank You for allowing me to be a brat and making me feel comfortable when around You .. but most of all .. thank You for giving me a second chance.


Chained Anonymous

He has always been wondering what the chains over my bedroom's wall were for. They didn't seem there with any particular purpose and their shape wasn't suggesting anything specific to his little mind.

I was waiting, waiting for him to ask about the chains and when he finally did a big smile enlightened my face.

I didn't speak a word back to his question. I stood from my chair and pulled on his leash, bringing him close to the wall and pointing up to the chains.

-Stand and stretch your arms up- I ordered while looking down to him, his eyes suddenly widened, a look mixed with fear and tension and excitement. -Now you will know my little slut- I caught myself thinking while he slowly rised from his knees and did what I ordered.

I dropped the leash and grabbed a few pieces of ropes, securing his wrists to the rings of the chain, his feet touching the ground but his body perfectly stretched.

I performed a perfect 8 around his wrists, tieing them tightly, closing the 8 with a simple knot and asked him to try to wiggle away from the bound. Of course he couldn't.

His front facing the wall he had no idea of what was happening behind his back where I stood. He tried to turn and twist his head around a few times while I was moving around the room, softly, with no purpose really, just the fun to increase his state of worry, his expectance. I love the way his body tense when he is unaware of what will happen next, a mix of fear and excitement.

When I finally walked closer to him I had a blindfold in my hand. I stretched my body against his. He was naked, I was fully dressed but that light contact was like a drug and my adrenaline started rushing through my system.

I moved my lips closer to his ear, going on the tiptoes to reach it, he is tall and slender.
I nibbled on his lobe a few times before lifting my hand to his head and blindfolding him. He moaned slightly, I bit his ear harder, he suffocated another moan.

When he does that, when he represses his sounds, he gets me more worked up.
I took a step back and picked up one of the rope's left overs and, merciless, I started hitting his back.

He didn't expect that and his body bounced forward hitting the wall, causing his throat to expell a hard groan, enhancing my arousal.

I hit him again and again and again. I did not find possible to stop until I saw the marks on his back. I moved back closer to him and caressed each of the red spots, causing him to tense some more, enjoying his fast breathing, his light whimpering. He didn't dare to speak a word but I knew what was on his mind and I smiled to his hardness as I looked down in between his legs. Again, I stretched over his body with mine, reaching up for his ear where I whispered "You are such a little slut.....say it...."

He sobbed out a light "yes My Mistress, I am a slut, Your slut.."

I smiled and stepped back again, slowly going down on his back, at first with my fingers, then leaning over to lick each of the marks, my salty saliva causing his skin to tense in pain while he tried to repress a groan of ache.

"Open your legs" I ordered while he promptly executed. His forehead rested over the wall now, I am sure he knew what I would do next. I took a good grip over his ass cheeks and spread them apart enough for me to give a good look to his tiny asshole. I blew on it very lightly causing his lips to let out a moan and his little hole to contract. I love to watch it as it happens.

I moved a couple of fingers over his hole and flicked over it lightly before scratching it with my nails. He groaned a little louder and begged me softly "yes, please....". I stood and slapped his ass cheeks hard a few times, making his body bouncing against the wooden wall once more, this time his hard cock hit it with the tip, making him twitch in pain and grumble.

I moved my hand to his face, to the hole of the blindfold where his mouth comes out from, and after playing around his lips with my fingertips, I pushed my index and middle finger into his mouth, ordering him to suck on them and wet them properly.

He moaned once more, my arousal evident through my body's response. My nipples hardened and my panties went wet, again. My clit seemed to live a life of its own while it pulsed in pleasure, contracting slightly, each of his moan and whimper making the pleasure reach a higher level each time. I am sure that if I closed my legs too tightly I could have had a spontaneous orgasm.

I chuckled at the thought and avoided doing that, I love this tension.

I pulled my fingers out of his mouth and moved them back to his ass, opening the cheeks again but this time, a little merciless, pushing my middle finger into his asshole. He groaned but didn't move, bending his ass out for me.

"Do you want me to fuck you with my finger, slut?" I whispered in his ear.

He nodded fast, unable to speak apparently, his breathing fast and irregular, his cock hard as a rock while I started moving half of my finger in and out his hole, slowly, my other hand stroking his inner thighs, scratching over the skin with the nails, reaching up for his balls, grabbing them at their base and pulling hard.

He gasped and moaned and bended over a little more, like a good slut. "oh my...thank you Mistress...." he was only able to mumble out.

I smiled and stopped touching him, all of a sudden, pulling my finger out of his little pink hole, leaving his balls, taking a step back and removing his blindfold.

What I had done next would drive him wild, I know.....and what I like the most is to know he would feel frustrated and helpless.

And I love that.

I moved over the bed, laid down and removed my clothes, telling him everything I was doing while I did so. I saw him struggling to turn around and look at me but he couldn't because of his position.

I described all I was doing, carefully.....opening my legs wide, my hand going down in between them, my fingers finding my sensitive clit, rubbing on it, pulling it slightly.....I made sure he pictured it in his mind very clearly while I started moaning in pleasure, spreading my juices around, making my cunt all moist.

All of this he knew by my words as I kept telling him what I was doing, what I was feeling, my voice half broken by desire and pleasure. He could hear my moans, my moves over the bed, he struggled in his costraints but he knew he couldn't move, he couldn't and he was not authorised to do so. He grumbled in frustration as my climax started making me groan like an animal, unashamed to be loud and explicit in my pleasure.

When it's over I could hear him slightly sobbing and whimpering in frustration.

I collected some of my juices slowly flowing to wet and sparkle over my inner thighs and I approached him, my steps soft over the rug.

He immediately rised his head up to attention.

I leaned over his back once more, this time I was naked and my nipples were pushing against his back, causing his skin to goosebump.

I moved the fingers with my juices over his lips.

"Lick, beast......".

He moaned and immediately started licking my fingers throughly, his eyes were closed, his body was shaking.

I love this feeling.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Paisan's Poem

Traversing through my life
senses stifled by a foggy haze.
Angry, bitter and full of strife
I sit alone, pondering in a daze.

Rules created by generations old.
Guiding my hand to what they deem is right.
Their minions making sure I do as told
Encompassing the world in a terrible blight.

Frustrated, angry eyes traverse the room.
Walls now percieved as bars in this putrid cell.
Promised salvation seems like impending doom.
Future of heaven now appears as hell.

A sudden brisk crack of a hand awakes my mind.
Blistering sensation sears through every nerve.
Gentle caress over the fresh wound feels kind.
Whispers permeate my thoughts and make them swerve.

You are the harmony heard far and wide.
I can hear you knocking upon my door.
It's resonance beckoning me to let you inside.
It's echo leaving me longing for more.

Afford me the will to listen.
Grant me the strength to follow.

-Paisan Broadfoot

Wolf Song by Jami Titanium

Wolf Song
© Jami Titanium

The lights are shifting against the pane of glass under which he kneels.
I watch him curl his toes against the back of his thighs
strength warring against agility and desire.

Light breaks through the window panes and shatters on his thigh.

There is grace in the knotted muscles coiling against his throat --
his Adam's apple throbbing in anticipation.

I crook My finger, a silent beckon.

I see him bite his lip a moment,
the pull of old primal instincts raging in his gut,
before he ducks his head and leans forward
sliding along the slick wooden floor slats.

I smile softy, stretching out My own calves as I wait.

He sidles up to My thigh
kneeling close enough to breathe against My skin.
I reach out My hand, tucking My fingers beneath his chin and --
pushing up -- look into his eyes and watch them flicker
and turn to the corner under My gaze.

He snarls and I laugh.

It's the third time we've played this game --
And some might question the wisdom
Of snapping My leash three times to one so prone to running.
But, he's a wolf and there is still a bit of alpha in his heart.

Which is most assuredly why I love him.

When he sits at my feet I can see the war
that wages in his chest -- and he burns to stand.
When he says "Mistress" the word tastes good to him--
But only because it is like bitter, dark chocolate,
A poison craved by the wolf so that I
Must keep it on a high shelf and nearly out of his reach.

I suppose I always liked a challenge.

But there comes a point when One must realize
The difference between a challenge and an impossibility.
And so, this third time, when he submits --
Even I question My own sanity a bit.
That is until he leans up hard against My leg and mutters softly,
his voice nearly cracking --

The Visit By Shyguy Noontan

The Visit, part 3..

We arrived at the hotel and my nerves started to calm a little bit, Mistress was leaning back in her seat, looking over at me, with a little smirk on her face, playing with the key that she had around her neck, twirling it around with her thumb and forefinger, looking at me, a twinkle in her eye and a loving smile on her lips. "I meant what I said pet, if you don't do everything I say, your little worm will never see the light of day again", and then she giggled.

I got out of the car, walked around and opened the door for her like a gentleman. She got out, the clicking of her boots hit the cement....i started walking toward the lobby of the hotel, and felt her grab my neck sharply, digging her perfectly manicured nails in to my skin..."down boy, NOW!'...i shuddered, and tingles shot through my body. KNowing what I had to do, i got down on my knees, and crawled into the hotel lobby with my Mistress just in front of me. She kept looking back at me, smirking, smiling, and letting out soft little giggles along the way.

As we walked through the lobby, people were looking at me, looking at her, and i could hear various people laughing along the way. Mistress didn't seem to care, and she just kept about her business, making all of the arrangements for our check in.

She got all the paperwork, rolled it up, looked down at me and shoved it in my mouth. "Let's go puppy" she said in a soft voice...She began to walk to the room, me one step behind her on my hands and knees, following her along as best as i could.

We reached the room, and entered..i crawled in, took my place on my knees before her as she stood in the middle of the room....She looked down at me and said "Strip now" in a deep serious voice. KNowing what I had to do, I began to disrobe quickly...and then i heart "Slowly, pet, savour it" I slowed down, and took off all my clothes, placing them neatly on the nightstand crawling over to it.

Mistress walked over to me, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she walked, stood over me, and then grabbed me by the hair. "Come with me, pet" as she led me over to the chair in the corner of the room. "Sit" she said....."look down, and don't say a word".

I sat in the chair, cast my eyes downward, and just stayed still, not knowing what was happening around me. She was close to me, I could smell her soft scented perfume, and I began to feel her soft hands slowly caressing my shoulders from behind, my neck, and my back. It was absolutely driving me insane, my body tingling, my cock hardening inside the device that she had so securely locked on my cock. All of a sudden I could feel her soft lips along my lip, running kisses up and down my neckline, so soft, so tender, and then in one quick second I could feel her lips suctioning on my neck, her teeth digging into my neck. I began to squirm, and she covered my mouth with her hand, still sucking on my neck, leaving a deep red mark on it...."Pet, there is your first mark from me. By the end of the week, your entire body will be marked"...and she laughed sadistically. She released her grip on me, and stood back a bit, and I could feel her taking my hands and arms, placing them together on the back of the chair, and a cold metal feeling encasing them as she handcuffed me to the chair, my hands completly bound, helpless, at her mercy. She walked around to the front of me, and securely fastened my legs to the bottom of the chair. "There, pet, bound and helpless, horny and frustrated, just the way I like you"

She walked around to the front of me, stood before me, my eyes still downward. She then said "look at me pet, look at my beauty, look at what you have, what owns you, what controls you in every way imaginable". I looked up, smiled softly, and just melted at the sight of her beauty.....

My body was beginning to shake from excitement as I looked into her eyes, completely at her mercy, completely in love. She began to slowly disrobe, taking off her blouse her skirt, and finally her panties, which were pink, lacy, and ohhh so gorgeous, She approached me, and said "open up", I opened my mouth, and she slid her panties deep inside my mouth. "Taste my juices pet, savour them, cherish them, for that might be as close as you ever get" and she she took out some duct tape and securely wrapped it around my mouth, trapping her sweet panties inside.

I began to mumble, and then i felt a sharp smack across my face, stinging on my cheek. "I said not a word pet, and I meant it".

"Now look at me, look at my gorgeous body, look at what you cannot touch...." as she stood back, twirling her fingers along her belly, and down to her pussy where she began to pleasure herself.....she slid her fingers in and out, moaning softly, enjoying the moment. I kept looking on in amazement, completely frustrated that I could not touch was such a helpless feeling. After a few minutes her moans turned to screams and I could see her climaxing, screaming loudly, her whole body shaking, shivering, and tingling.

She took her hand out of her pussy, drenched with her juices. She slowly approached me, and placed her finger under my nose...." nice?" and she giggled again....

Mistress walked away from me, went into the bathroom, leaving me there all bound and helpless. I could hear the bath water beginning to run, and I just sat there, in complete bliss and heaven.

To be continued....

Friday Night By Anonymous Domme

Friday Night

The Domme carefully lifted up her long skirt with one hand, while she held onto her driver’s arm with the other. They made their way slowly down the long staircase to the driveway, where the car waited.

The driver held the umbrella over her freshly coifed head, noticing how the beams from the streetlamps highlighted the strands of gold in the coiled waves, artfully arranged. He helped her into the passenger seat, scooping up the skirt, out of the way of the door.

As he leaned in, to assist with her seatbelt, he was careful to avoid brushing his arm against the beaded bodice of her top. The last time he accidentally touched her, she’d reprimanded him so severely, he’d been devastated.

They drove in silence through the rainy streets, the ribbons of highways, glistening in the cold night. He glanced her way, though he could not see her eyes. She’d covered them with her dark glasses.

She loved wearing sunglasses at night, one of her peculiar eccentricities.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she said one evening as she sat at her dressing table putting the final touches on her make up. “I can’t see worth shit at night, anyway.”

He was glad she suffered from night blindness, or she might have dispensed with his driving all together. She often threatened to drive herself, but they both knew it was impossible.

The driver kept a close eye on the speedometer. She didn’t like it when he drove too fast.

“I’m keeping to a strict 65,” he said to her.

She didn’t reply.
“You know I like to drive you as though you were a precious egg in a basket.”

Even though, he couldn’t see her eyes, he knew she’s shot him a disgusted look, so he decided to keep quiet for the remainder of the journey.

As he concentrated on the traffic, she fiddled with the vehicle’s sound system, attempting to adjust it, he wanted to push her hand away and set it correctly, but he resisted the impulse.

As they pulled up to the dungeon, he spotted a parking place directly in front of the place. She already had her hand on the car door handle. Before he could turn off the engine, she’s flung it open and dashed up to the dungeon door, pulled it wide and hurried inside.

He heard the metal dungeon door slamming shut as he reached into the back seat for her black leather toy bag and the long, leather case she used for her exquisite collection of equestrian crops and dressage whips.

She was like that: eager, enthusiastic. Determined to get places quickly. She rarely allowed him to open the car door for her.

He preferred the summer evenings when she wore her extreme, high-heeled patent leather oxfords. “My Minnie Mouse domme shoes,” she called them.

With those shoes on, she could barely walk. He had to half-carry her in. He felt useful and important, when she leaned on him.

He carried her bags into the dungeon foyer, where’d she already paid her fee and was chatting with the owner. He handed them to her and wished her a pleasant evening. “I’ll be here waiting for you. Let me know if you need anything.” She nodded and disappeared into the dungeon proper, where he was never allowed to enter.

Femdom night. No male doms allowed. The male dom owner of the dungeon liked to have company in the foyer, so the driver had someone to talk with as he waited for the domme. The hours passed.

He wondered who would carry her bags back to him. Would it be the tall, thin bald man? Maybe the young guy with that engaging smile? He never knew who she planned to meet at the dungeon.

Did she know them, were they strangers to her? What did she do with them?

He knew she liked to fist. The idea of it made his toes curl. Fisting. It digusted him.

He tried to hang about when phone calls came for “the mistress”, but he never heard a word. She would point at him and the door. He knew better than to stand about, he quickly exited the room.

Once he caught a glimpse of a naked ass with a butt plug sticking out of it on her computer screen, an attachment to an email.

“Who is that? Is that you?” he asked.
She went through the roof.

“Of course that is not me. Are you crazy? Why would I have a butt plug up my ass?"

"That’s one of my butt boys,” she said as she shoo’d him away.

Once he’d gone through her photo files, when she was out for the afternoon. He discovered, inside her collection of cartoon-like pictures of Second life, a folder of real life naked butts and penises encased in rope harnesses.

Some of the males had written her first name across their bellies.

“Who are these men?” he asked himself.

The hours passed as he sat in the cold outdoor foyer with the owner of the dungeon, waiting.

Finally the domme appeared. He took her leather cases from her, escorted her to the car and drove her safely home.

They had a cup of tea together. He asked if he might kiss her goodnight. She permitted him to kiss her hand. He went to bed.

In the dark bedroom, he heard the dog growl softly in her sleep as she lay at the foot of the bed on her pillow.

He felt lucky that the domme did not make him sleep there. Occasionally, she suggested that he might be better off there; but, he pleaded to be allowed stay on his side of the bed, to comfort her, when she had bad dreams or to rub her feet, when they were cold.

She sighed and agreed that he could stay.

That was all he was allowed. A fleeting kiss, a cup of tea, the company of the dog.

It was what he deserved. He accepted it.
He loved her.

He loved his wife—the Domme.

Sissy Confession By Tasha Darkstone

FemDom Confessions with Lady Zarita

My Mistress' Pet--or What Being a Sissy is (for me)

the comments below are from tasha darkthorn, but are the
property of Lady Zarita Shan &/or The Dominion Femdom
for use in any fashion whatsoever, i hereby relinquish any
and all rights to this content 2-17-2011.

A loving and wise Mistress once directed me to disclose
why i labelled myself a a "sissy" and enjoyed being called
that. This is in Her honor, with devotion and love and
hopefully much better organization and flow than at the
time of the original discussion. Any errors are mine alone;
this is purely descriptive and subjective, not intended as
proscription or definitional for anyone but myself. Males,
if you want to question, discuss or share, wonderful and
welcome will you be; if you want to argue, "let me check
my calendar and get back to you with an appointment...."
:) Ladies, as ever, i am all ears...


A sissy is a male who respects and loves Women,
worshipping the concepts of femininity and wholeness.
Everything womanly or "girly" is acceptable and attempted
to be understood. Every individual female is loved and
respected. It is an appreciation of the unique joys,
sorrows, passions, pleasures, and pains associated with
being an adult woman in this world. By definition, a sissy
is not thinking of or aroused in any fashion by young girls,
but begins with a female who has menstruated for at least
five years, a seasoned woman with experience. The
concept of being a sissy does not apply to the unique and
brave world of transgenders, humans whose souls and
bodies are not matched peacefully. A sissy is not
automatically a BITCH, either in the common usage or in
the "Beautiful Intelligent Temptress Creating Hardons"
version. Being called a "sissy bitch" isn't confusing, that
is a term of affection and play. Sissies also gladly do as
they are told, are open to guidance from Women in their
lives. The more compliant the sissy is, the more authentic
in his devotion, then the more at peace he can likely be
inside himself and with the Woman or Women from whom
he is receiving education, advice, and direction.

Being a sissy also requires intense desires to be
penetrated (by a variety of methods in various openings)
by a female or female controlled process. Mistress wants
Her boi's bottom, relishes the giving and taking of an ass
because She can be aroused by the "turning the tables"
on a male sexually. She can let him experience
penetration and other aspects of the female sexual
experience. She may permit him to mimic any number of
other female things such as having a "period" (being
ordered to use feminine hygiene products in creative
ways) Of course, there are many options in the clothing,
spa, beauty salon, and housework areas, and
opportunities in shopping and just chatting should not be
overlooked. "Assignments are mandatory!" :)

A Sissy is a male who likes the Feminine, but not
necessarily to be female. "Sissy" is all about attitude and
appreciation, and much less so about the particular thing
being done. Every human urinates, but sissy males will
enjoy do it sitting down, and pat dry. :)

As a Sissy, the search for things that please Mistress is
very important, even more so if those things can be
sexualized in some fashion. If i happen to discover that
She likes Pandora beads, i can then find a charm for Her
bracelet that will remind Her of my desire to be with her, a
little metal computer charm of what is the most frequent
connection between us. If She mentions Her love of
shoes, a little metal high heel or slipper charm might make
Her smile each time it catches Her eye. She will get one,
and i will also have one to act as a "worry bead" when we
cannot be together on phone or cam or textchat. A sissy
can be very clever at finding ways to "suss out" his
Mistress, or can simply beg for the information he seeks;
regardless, the key is to know the Mistress and meet her
needs. The intensity of connection deepens when what
the Mistress truly desires from Her Sissy and what the
Sissy can authentically provide overlap. What is often
thought of as "love" but may be better classified as
"devotion." Chivalry is not dead in the sissy world.

A final word about all things sissy: the tone is always
gentleness and respect. While this world is capable of
harshness, and the patriarchy may generally rule, in the
Sissy world it is always necessary to be kind, quiet, open,
and sincere. An angry upset sissy is in imminent danger
of becoming a non-sissy. The attitude is gratitude at
being permitted an escorted glimpse into the world of

Thank you for the chance to share my innermost feelings.

My First By Anonymous Domme

I have a confession....I want him so bad that my panties get wet at the very thought of him kneeling at my feet. But I can't let go, I can't bring myself to release him from my sensual torture nor myself.

I do not want to break the tension between us, it is like a spell, a magical electric vibe, like a leash, from my body to his, from my soul to his, keeping him collared and cuffed and bound through the sensual bonding we are creating.

He is my first.

There's my confession! He is my first!!

Not in submission, not the first wearing my collar, not the first kneeling for me or obeying my orders, not my first slave and not my first obediant beast. But he is my first!!! The first I am getting excitement from, the first I am considering to let to go, finally experiencing a first time that will be also physical.

In few words: he is capable of turning me on with a simple stare of his eyes.

I tried to think, to analyse, to understand. Why him? Why him and not any other of those I have met?

I believe the answer is in his submission, so perfect, so natural, so spontaneous. It matches my dominance perfectly, with no harsh spots. Having him around feels like being wrapped in silk sheets, smooth, fresh, stroking my skin delicatly but sensually.

I want to grab him and throw him over the bed, wrists and ankles tightly roped to the borders, his legs spread open, his eyes blindfolded. I want to use him and abuse him in ways I had never considered before, taking everything of him before giving it back, twisted and molded to my needs. When I dream or daydream about things I want to do to him, I get a strong, long and pleasant ache running down my spine and hitting my clit hard, making it twitch and contract in deep pleasure, causing my nipples to harden instantly and my moist wetting the panties.

I want to lick his skin, bite it, scratch it with my fingernails, then massage it with my long curly hair just to start it all over again while I would enjoy his body's reaction, his cock getting harder and harder, his muscles tensing, his voice broken in whimpers and moans. In my fantasies I sit over his face and take my pleasure, over and over again, denying him his own, teasing him endlessly until he starts begging for release.

I never had a slave or a sub that I used as a sex toy, I never felt any of them to be worth touching me.

I want him, body and soul, his.

I want him from inside.

Still......I am waiting, waiting like a cat chasing the mouse, circling him like a shark circling the prey.

I wait.

Key Chain By Russell Applemoor

I carry a keychain in Real Life.

To the casual observer it may not seem like much, just a ring of keys that are with me most of my waking hours.

When I look at my keychain I don't just see random keys. Everything I own that has value normally has a key to protect it. My house, my car, my safe and many other things precious to me.

How many hours have I worked to gain these items, how much money has been spent in maintaning them.

At one time I had a medallion on it, a cheap trinket that was given to me years ago, a token of my passion and profession with a small prayer engraved on it to keep me safe as I worked within that profession.

That medallion was rubbed in my hand out of reflex when I needed to think about things, When I was stressed, when I was relaxed and remembering good times and bad.

On a spur of a moment I tossed that medallion into a box and shipped it off across the ocean to a woman I love and respect and I am proud to call my Mistress.

I had no idea if she would like it or what she would do with it. It made me very proud when I heard that that medallion which had covered miles with me and was with me on many occasions that might make one wonder my sanity as I did them was now on my Mistresses keychain.

It made me feel attached to her as I knew she now took that medallion in her hand, knowing that its presence with her was a small link that stretched across the ocean.

A few months later I was pleasantly surpised to find that I was sent a medallion for my keychain from my Mistress. a beautifully engraved tag that has my Registration number on it along with a bar code for the Slave registry. A silky smooth tag that begs to be rubbed between my fingers a inscription that reads this

Property of Maisy Dollinger since February 18th, 2009.
This handsome boy, is my boy, My submissive, My rock
My strength, My Friendand loyal companion in this crazy

He is my Slut, My Bitch, Mine.

This tag is on my keychain in plain view of anyone who cares to look at it,
I have become so comfortable carrying it I sometimes forget its there like the time I left my car at a repair facility and the young girl who gave me my keys and laughed as she said "Nice Keychain"

I know many people have seen it including members of my family but I am proud its there and its a small decleration of my choice to be submissive.

Its been Two years now since I have begged to be at her feet serving her, Two years that have shaped me and caused such a roller coaster of emotions. I know Mistress doesn't care much for anniversary dates and she doesn't give much celebration to them so I will be the one to tell her I love her and that I am proud to be wearing your tag still after these two years.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Do You Remember By Siofra

Do you still remember?
The feeling of silk that caressed your eyes
before you saw that darkness?

Do you still remember?
The feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach
When i whispered into your ear?

Do you still remember?
The feeling of warmth against you cheek?
when i placed my hand against it?

Do you Still remember?
The Feeling of cold and the tickle of sweet?
When the taste of gelato tickled on your tongue

Do you still remember?
The feeling of dreams and passion
When the sent of Jasmine reached your nose?

Do you still remember?
The feelings of that night
When you and i last held each other?

I do.

Far Shores Calling By Silk

Far shores call
over deep and distant seas

Why do the sea birds scream ?
What is the secret sorrow
Caught within their cries ?

What do you see?
Drawning on the horizon?
bright, as the promise of tommrow?

shining beaches
long voyages left to
fade from time and mind

footsteps in the sand
waves rushing past
washing them to dreams

Moon fall
mist and shadow all
Paths run to a final end
down the only road

Life's sweet
but all must pass
into fog and snow
Never knowing
Where the road will run
Or what will greet Us
at the final home

sorrows now left behind
stepping into new dawns day
A fresh and bright way ahead

I know now why they
turning to the West wind
wetness on my face

Just you and i
Against a distant sky

Lift up Your head now

For happiness walks
besides me

Lift up Your head

For Love now points the way

Confession By Mo

Another day, sitting in my favorite armchair, in the living room. Trying to figure out how i want it to look like, this object i am building. While listening to my friends on the other side, brainstorming, about how theyre going to shoot their latest release of couture dresses they have made.

Suddenly, there is IM ching ching sound and i read, "oh Mo there is some people here on the land, jumping around." We haven't been used to guests or newbies randomly tping there, it was first time actually. As Protective as i am, i rushed to help my friends trying to see who is these people were disturbing the land. I noticed woman and a man rezzed there.

Considering we have been working and haven't been used to have any type of guests, and being the protective one. I walked to the man who was standing there in the other corner of my screen. As i was approaching my rage was running up high, so as soon as i stopped walking i said:"Some people are trying to work here! We really dont appreciate you jumping around here like some monkey! Oh kids, newbies. " I breathed out and waited for other side's reaction not actually and even caring what was going to be said, just wanted him to leave and take his friend with him.

Calm voice could have been heard from the other side, addressing me and saying:"We really didnt want to disturb, just trying to figure out where is this famous shop we have heard about in real life, nothing else." From the answer i got the idea this person has some manners. His actions calmed me down instantly, we were on the same page. I was still upset, because my friend kept on IMing me asking if can i get rid of newcomers. Me and this man exchanged few words and they have tped away.
Later on i was Standing in the club with my friend, keeping her company, because she wanted to dance. i wanted to just stand around. ching! ching! sound of an IM was heard. "Oh, well isn't that fiery Mo here!" I looked at the name of a person who IMed me and it was telling me absolutely nothing. Oh well that is some nerv! To IM me like this out of the blue. I am sorry, but no man is talking to me like that without knowing each other, rushed in my head instantly.

"And who would you be" i asked, him grinning and asking as if i really don't remember. i didn't at first. My mind had been refreshed him saying he is that person who upset me that one time randomly showing up on friend's sim. I couldn't even recall at first, then remembered he was the person who calmed me down with that first sentence he had addressed me with. I was feeling better about this person. I could talk to him, he was rather nice. So we talked and i was shocked to hear that he is 39 years old person from my country. Our conversation then proceeded in our native language and soon enough he pursued me to go and look at his land because he had something to show me.
I felt i can talk to him in a way i do with some, people only some. So we got into his room and he was trying to show me his decor that i found to be rather poor and newbish. We got into this conversation where i was teasing him about his way of life here, when it got into me to tell him shortly and rapidly: "you can now get on your knees boy".
What seriously startled me was he actually did it. I felt power rush immediately, my orders for him were flying out of my mouth and he was complying. Down to his knees, so obedient, so ready to receive my orders. We had a conversation of what i would like in a submissive, and i said i prefer them in chastity, forbidden, restricted, built up to the pain and ultimate frustration of not being able to touch themselves or be even a man. Only under my sun, when, if i want, and how i want.

He was worried because he has never done it before. how is he going to pull this off, and his whining made me determined even more. He submitted to my wished within few minutes, there was no escape for him actually. So he kept on kneeling in front of me next few days, non stop, whole day we have been spending together. We started talking about real life and he proposed he will drive from seaside where he was spending his vacation in his parents house to my town inside of the country, just to see me and take me out for a lunch/diner, all was an option.
I really wanted to see him, do more to him make him adore me more and he has. He was ready to get in that car in any moment i breathed out, anticipation was making me keep him where he was, not allowing him to approach. So he stayed there, i stayed here.
Mornings were coming and going, he was under my heel, under my will forbbiden to touch himself. muse about how he is going to make his mistress let him at least touch himself for a few minutes, to get some release, from this sudden prison he has found himself to be in. In the morning he would come to me and talk about how he has been woken up in the middle of the night. Frustration has been all over the place, restlessness and sweat, didn't know if its from the summer hot nights or desperation he wants some kind of release, at least mistress's presence. He was dragging me towards him and my urge to say no to him was developing in each moment of his frustration.
That early hot summer afternoon he came to me and said he is deadly frustrated. I reminded him that he is my dog and he had decided to go to the beach, one of those beaches where people walk and behave naked freely. I told him i want a report from what he has been doing there on the phone and that i wish him to be around more naked blonds. So he left and 15 minutes hadn't passed and he was laying down on the beach naked, chastised by me. Sending me message about how hot it is and how unable he was.

Knowing hes surrounded by all this freedom of nature and he is not free was making me feel ultimately happy. I could almost sense the smell of the sea he found to be such a big rescue for his condition to swim in. Then i ordered him he can only touch himself when in the sea, probably surrounded by some distant people, knowing of their presence but still in human taboo distance.

Of course, he was embarrassed by the idea. what else he could have done? this was his Miss's will and he had no other way of touching his private parts elsewhere. anyway so this was a big yes on his part. At least something. I took the last resolution out of his hand, to be calmed down and breath easily while he was swimming. I took away any possible relief from him, even touch of a warm summer sea water playing around his body calming his mind, knowing his will is mine. The idea he was blushing now in that sea, i knew, and oh i really loved it.

to be continued...

Confession By Abernathee

"What fantasies did we have that we thought would never come to fruition?" When the question was asked a week or two ago at the "Ask a Domme" event I had an answer. I saw his flesh then, how I imagine it. Light and smooth, the smell of soap and his cologne. I see him on display, naked, save his collar. Elevated on a pedestal for my own convenience. The room we're in is bare, dark walls and hardwood floors making each sound we make echo, every word spoken announced. I sit in my chair and command him into a beauty stance. I examine him as I sit in my seat, my eyes graze over every inch of him. I drink his stark whiteness, drink the muscles of his legs and arms, his belly, the bones of his neck, drink the curves of his face, his blue eyes. I make mental notes, marking my territory as my eyes prod. When I rise and start toward him, the sound of my heels hitting the warm wood makes him shiver. I smile, enjoying this little admission of fear. He doesn't move when I stand in front of him, only his lowered eyes give way to his growing fright. They dart around, trying to find something to focus on without much luck. I begin to circle him slowly, running the tips of my nails across his skin with one hand while I pull out the cold piece of steel with the other. I take the blunt side and press it deep into each spot I've marked, while I ask the questions that confirm my possession.

What are you? Your pet Miss.

Why? Because there is nothing else Miss.

Where do you belong? At your feet Miss.

When are you mine? Always Miss.

Who do you belong to? You Miss.

For how long? Forever Miss.

I turn the steel around so the blade is at his flesh and begin to carve. The metals medical sharpness prevents any dramatic pain, but his intake of breath and the tensing of his skin tells me it does hurt. Seven letters, seven tiny pieces of art marked in his skin. He whimpers through gritted teeth as I continue, as I brand my possession. The blood trickling from his parted dermis doesn't make me relent, the tears running down his sweet cheeks don't make me stop, the cries from deep within his throat do not make me sway. His stance, his will to remain while nothing holds him to the pedestal but his love and devotion pushes me forward. When I'm done, I step back and admire this living boy. The perfection I've created.

Thank you Mistress, he breathes.

My name covers his body, and when he heals, when I've nursed him to health and my name appears as little scars all over him, the truth we both know will be apparent. He's bound to me, he's mine. But my mind is drawn back as the other Ladies share their secrets and I remain quiet, too new to reveal this untold desire, this need of mine.

Confession By Eloise

Balloon Boy.
Since I was a child, I have often admired latex balloons. I like the colors, the lovely heft of a mouth blown balloon, or the waif like billow of a helium balloon. Balloons have their own life.. they can dance on water.. float in and on air, sing, even be used as a weapon if need be. Yes, I like balloons.. and soon, my boy will too.

It was Valentines day, a year ago, and for this special day, my favorite day of the year, I decided to have a fun little play date with my boy. I rented a storeroom, outfitted it with vinyl sheeting, and filled it with all sorts of clear, opaque and solid balloons.

I filled the ceiling with helium balloons as well, some with long beautiful cords, some with smaller, shaped balloons inside them, even balloons with confetti floating and sparkling with glitter inside... I dressed in an impossibly tight, beautifully detailed latex catsuit, valentine red, and glossy with polish.

I sat on a ghost stool, made of acrylic.. clear to the eye, but an illusion just the same.

I sent my boy a message to meet me here, of course he complied, and was exactly on time. He knocked our "secret" knock at the door, I knew it was him, and in he carefully stepped.
The look on his face was astonishing. He averted his eyes towards me, and greeted me with a breathless voice..

"My Mistress.. this boy wishes you a beautiful Valentines day"

I smiled, told him to strip, which he quickly did, and told him to come to me. I stroked his semi hard cock against my thigh.. it stuck and bristled against the latex. I told him to gather six helium balloons from the ceiling and bring them to me.

He fetched six and one by one the silk cord was tied to his uplifted cock, and one by one each cord made his cock turn colors. This delighted me, such lovely colors, such fun shapes!
I sprayed some latex shine on my gloves, and lightly fingered his balloon driven cock. My boy was kneeling before me.. as he'd done time and time before, his body beautiful with goosebumps.
I took a big, burly balloon and brushed his body with it.

There was static electricity present, I shut the lights off to watch the tiny sparks sail though the air as the balloon teased his skin. His hair on his body stood up, I loved the sound that balloon made. I flicked the lights back on, tied his hands behind his head with uninflated balloons and instructed him to stand up and spread his legs. I had thought ahead and took a skinny balloon, filled it with water, blew it up and froze it. It made a perfect dildo, and my lucky boy was soon to be fluffed with it. He was instucted to bend over, the frozen balloon was sprayed with latex shine, and he was taking a balloon excurison all his own with the help of my frozen pretty favor. Soon, I removed the balloon dildo, and inserted the next balloon toy with a little air in it. As it slid into his wanton ass, it accidently popped giving my boy a little thrill.. I reinserted a new balloon, this time not inflated. I inserted a helium hose, gave my boy a reach around as his ass balloon began to fill..

I kept pumping until he felt full. I jacked him and edged him with my slick sprayed glove, and as close as he'd get.. I'd either pop a hovering balloon on his purple cock, or deflate the balloon in his ass. Finally I got to the last balloon, and inflated his ass to compacity, the balloon popped, he suddenly came like a fire hose, and I found a new fetish for us to explore. I will never look at a pretty red balloon in the same way ever again!

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

My Miracle By Mark Slingshot1

My Miracle

Its February.

Couples everywhere go out of their ways to express their love for one another. Public displays of affection are a common sight and romantic get aways, valentine' s day cards and box of chocolates are in vogue.

Love and happiness are in the air.

Its a different February for me than what I have experienced in the year's past, but it is all i've ever wanted. When i find myself knelt before the amazing, the charming and the lovely Miss Violet, i can't help but feel special.

Sometimes you find something you've been searching for all your life when you least expect it.

Sometimes, you take a path you've never travelled before, only to realize it was your destiny., the journey you were meant to take.

Sometimes, miracles do happen. Miss Violet is my miracle, my prize, my world.

This February marks the beginning of my journey, to learn from a true Goddess, to serve, to anticipate her needs, to please, to be molded into what she wants me to be. And for all those reasons, i am going to remember this for a long long time.

My Saerch For You. For Dave By Zarita

"My search for you, your search for me is a search after something that cannot be found. Only the impossible is worth the effort. What we seek is love itself, revealed now and again in human form, but pushiing us beyond our humanity into animal instinct and god-like success. The love we seek overrules human nature. It has a wildness in it and a glory that we want more than life itself. Love never counts the cost, to itself or others, and nothing is as cruel as love. There is no true love that does not pierce the hands and feet.

Merely human love doe not satisfy us, though we settle for it. It is an encampment on the edge of the wilderness and we light the fire and turn up the lamp and tell stories late into the night of those great loves lost and won.

The wilderness waits, it is not tamed. It waits- beautiful and terrible -beyond the reach of the campfire. Now and again someone gets up to leave, forced to read the map of themselves, hoping that the treasure is really there. A record of their journey comes back to us in note form, sometimes just a letter in a dead man's pocket.

Love is worth death Love is worth life. My search for you, your search for me, goes beyond life and death into one long call in the wilderness. I do not know if what I hear is an answer or an echo. Perhaps I will hear nothing. It doesn't matter. The journey must be made."

Jeanette Winterson
The Power Book

My RL Story By Lady Cera

At 15, she was taller than most boys, more physically developed than most of the girls, her long blonde hair, the long legs that didn't seems to end, and those wonderfully firm and perky breasts that continued to grow despite her efforts.... she possessed the knowledge of knowing how to use her assessts and had boys falling on their knees to do as she requested... the life she knew she was destined for... thinking her life was taking on new wonderful adventures when she was moved to sunny southern California to live with her father.... little did she know, those adventures would be anything but wonderful.

Her Father, the one man she adored and would spare the use of her abilities on.... little did she know, that weakness would be the demise of her abilities.

Her father, the man she looked up to, adored and thought could do no wrong in her eyes, despite what others had said about him, her lack of maturity in years, blinded her to the truth of all of those warnings. A man, she thought that would be her guiding light in the world, also a drunk, a drug addict, and a liar... she used her abilities to help this man maintain his employment, having grown men fall down to her to her command. She was learning more and more the effect of all she possessed. Until the one day, shortly after her sixteenth birthday, her father, on another of his drinking and heavy drug use weekends, several men came to the house, demanding something from my father, not knowing fully what the "visit" was about... angry words were used, she remained out of sight to try to gain some insight as to the argument, soon, the men started beating her father, stepping out into the room, she asked the meaning of this, only to find her father beaten and bloody on the living room floor at her feet, the words coming out of his mouth stunning her, feeling the words choking the breath from her lungs, her knees, weakening, as what was said , sunk deeper into her... "take the girl, she will prove to be well enough to pay the debts and for "him" to keep me well stocked for the next year" .

What was he doing, she kept thinking, the words replaying in her head over and over, disbelief of what her father was saying, what was he thinking?!?! This couldnt be really happening ! Before she could find words, she felt hands on her, forceful, strong, dirty hands, and the slow tear sliding down her cheek as she looks to the heap on the floor that was once her Father.

Disbelief and fear kept her numb, until she felt the stinging of the slap across her cheek, "him", she was now at his feet, laying on the floor, her top ripped open, blood dripping from her lip. She looks up to "him", a look of hatred in her eye, she stands again, and spats in his face, bringing another, stronger blow to the side of her head, and she falls back to the floor, where she remains. Sobs threaten to escape her, but she refuses to show weakness. Her 16 yrs, just matured to many more... this girl, with boys at her beck and call, no more...

She did prove to be just what her father promised, providing him to be well drugged and dileriously numb for the next year... and the girl, numb as well, beaten, verbally abused, and shown off as a prize possession of "him"... at 17, minus the cuts and bruises from "him", she had grown even more attractive to the mans eye. Her hatred for him and her father grew inside of her daily. As the days were marked on her breast , by the knife of "him". Knowing that soon, her 18th birthday , her day of escape was nearing. "Him" had many times tried to get her to try out his sales, having many parties, and buyers come to the house, wanting her to sample different drugs, but to her amazement, he never forced her when she refused, never once had a drug entered her.

As the days moved on, she continued her plan on how to leave this horrible place, never having been allowed to learn how to drive, to have friends, only to work and go to school, with the supervision of course.... she was never alone. Finally, her 18th birthday, the day she had been dreaming and planning for two long horrble years, the day of her escape was here. She left all that she had there, there was nothing she wanted to take with her, she wanted no memories of this place, of this time in her life... she waited until "him" had been blissfully drugged with the new arrival of coke and heroin, she made her move... her heart pounding, sure that all could hear her fear... but her will kept her feet moving until she was past the door, un attended to, she slipped out of the house. She was free, her heart raced, her feet pounding the ground, trying to put as much distance between herself and that horrible place as possible. she couldnt believe it, she had done it, and so easily... for the first time in two years, she really smiled.

Little did she know, "him" had noticed her slipping out of the house, sent 3 men after her, they caught up to her, beat her , raped her, and left her on the side of the road. Praying to God to let her die, she slipped into a sleep, to wake from the next morning. Unanswered prayers....

A strong stubborn woman, never whispered a word of this to another until many years later, many failed relationships later... more men that beat her, wore her down with demeaning words... she hid this all from the world around her, hid it deep inside her self. She promised herself that one day, she will again regain what she had lost, that young girl, never to be again... but a stronger woman. It didn't come until after her 30th birthday... she mustered up all the strength she had, believing for the first time in years.... that she was a woman! A woman that was strong, stubborn and yes, forgiving... for the men in her life, they knew no better... they were weak minds, and needed their physical strength to try to find control. She knew she was better than this.

Some say she is too soft, she some times fears that herself.... but she knows in the end, a caring heart, empathy, and love do not make a woman weak... it adds to her strength.

True Love By Anon

True Love in a D/s relationship

There have been many times when I was told either by a Mistress or by a fellow sub that you could not have both a D/s relationship and true love. It can't work they told me, it won't work. Your desires as a sub will never match with Her desire for a boyfriend.

I actually started to believe all of these people that were telling me that. I know that I wanted both, but really lost all faith that I could find it in SL. That is until one Saturday night about a year ago. I was still reeling from a bad break up, a relationship that broke up because we tried to have both love and D/s, and it didn't work for her, and it didn't work for me.

I was wandering around aimlessly and decided to drop by the Saturday night D Lounge...I was dancing by myself, feeling sorry for myself, all lonely and very alone. Then, my im box popped open.....all it said was *hey*. From there they hey turned into much more than was a relationship that has blossomed, flourished and has grown so much over the past year....and is a prime example that you can have both true love in a D/s context.

Mistress and i are prime examples that you can have both, and a year after that simple *hey*, i couldn't be happier.

So on this Valentine's Day, i can honestly say that I have found my true love!!

The Moon and Her Ocean By Teegan

The Moon and her ocean
We think of the the ocean as a vast body of water
the waves can be unforgiving and the tide rises and falls as it pleases many people are intimidated by the vastness of the ocean the power it has over the creatures that reside in it and it's protection over them

The angry waves the calm water the tranquility it can provide the ocean is full of emotion and she is unpredictable or is she?

The Moon is a powerful force more powerful than the ocean
she listens to her pulls and pushes and obeys her commands
she is calm when she says be calm she is wild when she says be wild and when she says just be she will do just that because she tells her so.

The Moon circles around her guiding her every move and she abides because she cannot help herself. She falls to her power and authority over her and obeys with grace.

the ocean's waves bow to her Miss who looks down upon her pulling her about like a marionette with no strings because she has her freedom to change her direction but she follows her to the end.

Confession Limerick By Miss Destiny And Silk

There was a young boy from Venus
Whose body was shaped like a Penis
The girls thought he was Odd
Because his cock was quite Bobbed
but the rest of them thought him a genuis !

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Secret 2 By Anon


I heard her voice before I saw her.
“Hello Ladies….Hi subbies… is everyone this evening?”
Her unique accent tinkled thru me like I was filled with little silver bells.
I resisted turning to see her, but I could feel her gaze on me…like a sudden breeze.
From my left she strolled into view, stood for a moment in indecision.
Then moved to a chair across the courtyard and clicked for a seat.
She’s wearing her Dominion Mistress tag this evening.
She sometimes forgets and leaves the name of the latest dance club she’s been to above her avi.
My avi is facing toward a group of subs in the back of the courtyard.
But….my perv cam view….slides to her.
Zooms up on her face….her beautiful pixel face.
I’m not crazy you know…..I know she’s only electrons flashing on my screen.
But my heart and my brain…they don’t always…communicate.
My gaze……and cam…..slide down her slender form.
Tight leather tonight, fitted to emphasize her….abundant cleavage.
Her long avi legs crossed at the knees, foot swinging..... slowly...... back..and forth.
She’s voicing…saying hello to me…just me…..
I don’t voice…..I can’t...home situation too…..unstable.
Can’t say the things I would like..... with him….around.
And …besides….I would be tongue tied with her.
I would just….babble…say foolish things.
I’m better in type….I can think…I can organize my thoughts…
I can pretend to be …..just another Mistress….an equal in the courtyard.
But… she knows… she…..knows my secret.
Even through her pixel eyes….she sees through me.
Knows my secret desires.
The boys are gathering around her now.
They always do….all the little unworthy pricks.
They have no idea how to serve her.
They don’t know her heart, her soul….they don’t know her…..body
As I know it……at least in my fantasies….in my darkest thoughts.
Oh god…what am I doing….letting my mind wander…
I haven’t even responded to her yet…
“Yes, yes uh hello…..I uh didn’t see you come in….Hi!”
Yes….I type like I think…..stammer and all…
A little affectation….but……that’s me.
Boys joking now, making teasing comments….vying for her attention.
I sit here….by myself….watching the action.
Remembering ….our times together.
Long conversations in the courtyard….during dances..... events.... while chasing down subs on the hunts.
Hidden IM talks while the others swirl around us with their own interests.
We know each other so well now….and she knows my secret.
Oh no….I haven’t told her…..I can’t make myself say the words.
I will never say switch.
But….she knows……she knows what’s in my heart.
She also knows….as I know….that it can never be.
I won’t do it….I can’t do it.
I am what I am…..I am Domme….I will not submit.
I need the control…I must make order…the power is my salvation.
Except…she calls me dear…..she... whispers my name.
She breaths little scenes into my mind and my breath comes quick.
She teases me in IM .....even as she taunts the boy subbies in local.
She is smart, and quick and funny and subtle…
She… my secret.
She ….is my torment.
Alone….so rarely alone with her.
But just a few times….just an intoxicating few times we have stolen away.
To some deserted sim, some desert Isle, some snow bound chalet.
Away from the rules…the conventions…
A short while…when we drop the titles, and pretense
A fleeting moment when she orders….and I obey.
A few hours when I can be this …..other me.
The adoring, obedient, docile….. whore.
Her toy, her panting plaything…her……SL love.
But now….No….not now…Not here.
Here I am Mistress, here I am strong
Here I am what I must be…what my soul commands.
What my life…my RL life demands of me in this SL dream.
I look away….I admonish a boy that has been standing too long in the center of the courtyard.
I call over a free subbie to kneel by me….a good boy…..but….

Only a boy.

Confession About Pride By Jerome

Some years ago I meet a girl and we built up some very nice but rather loose relationship.
After some time this relationship slowly turned into a D/s one as both of us discovered we like it a lot.
After more than a year I have been deeply fallen in love with my meanwhile mistress.
I wanted to intensify the relationship to a close one, even having in mind having found the partner of my life.
My mistress preferred to continue the loose relationship despite my growing efforts. I became pretty desperate.
Not seeing any success in my growing effort, I started thinking, if she does not need me for closer relationship I do not need her either.
I reduced my efforts and my time to be at her disposal, thinking she’ll miss me more and more, too.
Finally after some month she dissolved our relation to my surprise and I was very much hurt in my pride.
I ended up with suffering for more than a year about having lost my mistress forever.

Finding True Submission By Jerbo

I sit here looking at my keyboard and wonder how I reached this point
in my life. It all seemed to begin innocently enough, with finding
out about SL through school and being intrigued by the rich visual
stimulation that abounded there.

I begin my journey like most if not all male 'noobs', by being
intrigued by the sexual flavor of SL and the many adult sims that
abounded. However, I soon tired of them all and chanced upon a couple
that were into the lifestyle. Taking me under their wing, I soon
realised that I was just as intrigued by this new expression and asked
to be instructed in how all this worked.

"Dom or submissive?", I was asked.

"What do you mean?", I said.

"Well, do you want to be a dominate, and be the ones to instruct and
command, or submissive and take the commands of others?"

I thought for a few and then replied "Submissive. Because if I were
ever to be a Dom, then I would want to know what it is to be
submissive." This from the reasoning that you want to know about
someone, then you need to walk a mile in their shoes.

So, it began, my training (at least from an SL point of view,) was to
be locked down, not able to leave my cell, not able to TP out, IM,
etc. At first it was not so bad, but then I began to want to explore
and not being able to, I soon realised that I needed to gain my
Domme's favor in order to be free. However, I was surprised that I
was just as pleased as She was when I was able to please Her. And
this new found feeling lead me in the long run to accept my
submissiveness as what I truly wanted.

Skip ahead a year and a few Mistresses that I have had the luck of
knowing very well, and then finding myself sitting contently in the
courtyard, greeting the Ladys, and general chit chat with all that
come and go. Helping out the occasional new guest, and guiding them
into finding their place at Dominion. For I have now found that it is
not the edging, or verbal commands, or any other typical BDSM that I
enjoyed, but the simple ability to serve all that I can, even if it is
a simple "Hello Miss."

And this lead me to another realisation in my RL that was missing,
until one day when my wife caught me in a Role Play situation. That
the one most that I wish to please is Her. Yes, being married and in
SL has its disadvantages, especially when one partner does not know,
or accept the way I wish to be in SL. I participated in the
discussion a few weeks ago about RL relationships and how SL affects
them. Many things were tossed about and I even gave my opinion that
I was trying to get out of SL what I was missing from my RL. Even
going so far as to say that I could not tell Her because she would not

Well, after that day and my getting 'caught' as it were, we have since
patched things up, but on the condition that I not go into SL again.

HOW COULD I DO THIS! SL has become a staple in my life to enable me
to serve and be appreciated! That was the reason I always came to
Dominion. I was always appreciated. And respected so much that in
the end, prior to my leaving, I was asked to be a liaison for
Dominion, an honor that I had cherished to get.

But, on thinking and contemplating, I finally had an epiphany. That
to be a submissive is not about gaining appreciation or adoration, but
to serve without the expectation of getting any of that. You see, I
always used the excuse of being in SL that I never got any respect
from my spouse, and that I craved it. And I still do crave the
respect and praise from Her. BUT, now I know that I just did not try
hard enough and simply ran to SL as my escape and easy fix. Also, that
as has been taught to me and that I finally understand, is that I have
a gift. And that gift is precious and not to be given lightly. But
that gift is also mine to give not to be taken from me.

So I gave that gift back to the one who it truly belongs. And you
know, I have found a new purpose, to serve Her that I also love. And
it is working. I have found that even though I don't get praise and
adoration all the time, the times that I do, is worth all the troubles
and pain I have had in getting there.

So I am not in SL any more (I do log only long enough to clear IM's
and notices, and to just keep my account active, in the event that She
changes her mind and allows me back.) But I think of all of you and
your kindness that you all have shown.

I thank the following that have been so important in my SL life. Miss
Namie Charisma who trained me, Miss Tora Maven, my first Mistress,
Miss Cosette Firelyte who gave me a wonderful makeover, Miss Cera
Rhapsody, who gave me such insight into being a true submissive. Lady
Jem, who sought to train me in the end, but time ran out. Lady
Destiny Teardrop, who always had an ear to lend when I needed it. And
thank you also to Lady Sue, Lady Maisy, Lady Maylea, Lady Mandalay,
Lady Medusa, Lady Kivrin, Lady Violet, Miss Orchid.

And a special thanks go to Lady Eva, who always made me feel at home.

Also, thank you to my subbie friends, Erowyn, Gregie, Silk, ShyGuy,
Wheels, Zaira, you will all be missed.

Will I ever be back? I hope never, but that is only because I finally
found in RL what I always had in SL, the ability to serve.


Thank you Lady Destiny, I miss you All.

Fantasy Mistress By Wilson

She hardly spoke, and when She did it was always with terse, sharp, prodding language barely concealing the hint of a snarl.

I was enamored by Her on first site. For starters, Her proportions just oozed strength. Large set hips, strong thighs, ample bossom, thin straight dark hair, and eyes that devoured with but a glance. She was a force of nature, to be tiptoed around for fear of bringing Her wrath down upon you, and the electricity i felt minding my manners in Her presence was intoxicating. My hunger to please, already a raging fire inside me, was stoked, and tended by the challenge of delighting One so fierce.

I still have no idea if She notices me. In the months i have known Her we have spoken but twice, once when She told me to "shut up" while i was talking with another near Her, and the other time she grunted "Hello Wilson" after I greeted.

These seemingly insignificant exchanges have done nothing to lessen my curiousity or fantasies about Her. The list of questions i ache to ask are seemingly endless. The hunger i have for the day She notices my silent pining and allows me the honor to refuse Her nothing She desires. In my fantasies we are having a silent exchange of power already...that She reads my mind and knows how Her mere demeanor is claiming my obedience, and that silently She is slowly winding in the reel that has been hooked in to my submission.

In these fantasies I imagine She knows all to well who is drawn to Her raw demonstration of power, can spot me as one caught in Her web, and is waiting Herself, watching me with seemingly unoticing eyes, studying, learning...

i imagine a day when she walks close to me, forces Her way in to my IM, and whispers in to my ear "follow me." Immediatly, She teleports away to an unknown Sim, unannounced, as She often does.

Left confused, desperate to follow and with no means to do so, the next few moments seem like an eternity as my heart races, my body tingling with anticipation, hoping for an invitation. The moments pass...nervously...painfully....slowly....

Suddenly, startling me for being both unexpected and anticipated, the upper right hand corner of my screen pops up a window inviting me to teleport to a location i do not recognize. Eagerly I accept and the screen goes dark and my heart races with eagerness....

My Dream Guy By Lady Miyani

I dreamed of you last night.

Well, don’t we think we’re something special? I don’t always dream of you, but often, yes, Not like this, though. This was… different.

Are you sure you want to hear?

If you insist. We were walking together through the woods. Either it was summer, or we’d finally moved somewhere warm. Just the two of us, really alone, it was so nice. No schedules, no phone calls, no obligations. No one on the other side of the door. Just me, and you, and us.

You looked beautiful, mine - and very much as you do right now. Strong, and proud, with your eyes that warm honey-brown they get when you’re happy, and your hair that little bit too long. Just the way I like it. I’d finally gotten you out of that t-shirt you call a uniform, and as I watched you I caught flashes of blue at your chest, from your mark. And flashes of silver at your throat, from mine.

I keep telling you you’re my dream guy.

I was so proud, watching you. Knowing that you were mine, knowing that I carried your heart inside me.

But I’m so enthralled by you; how can a metaphor be enough? My steps began to slow as my breathing did exactly the opposite. My eyes crept up to meet yours when you turned, a question plainly written on your face. Oh, what a joy it was to see the question fall away, to see the first tinges of fear, mixed with a breathless anticipation. You weren’t sure of the game, not yet, but you knew me well enough to sense my mood.

I smiled - that special smile that seems to show a few too many teeth. Despite the excitement fluttering just beneath my skin, I felt the softness run out of my face. The angles sharpened, my gaze became cold, even a bit arrogant. I didn’t need to see it to know; I could see you. Your growing uncertainty, and a kind of settled surrender - the prey in you succumbing to its lot in life.

That was the moment I’d been waiting for, although I hadn’t planned it. My nostrils flared, and I exhaled. “Run.” Almost too soft to hear.

You weren’t sure if I was serious. I saw the corner of your mouth twitch upward, and I growled. You heard that.

“You don’t want me to repeat myself.”

I didn’t think people actually ‘gulped,’ I thought that was something used only for effect. But you proved me wrong, and then you were off. Crashing through the bushes like a startled deer - darling, surely you have more finesse than that. But if you wanted to make the hunt easier, I wasn’t going to stop you.

I didn’t just chase. Where’s the fun in that? I followed, and let you tire yourself out, and when you began to slow I came at you from one side or the other. I let you hear a snapped branch, or catch a glimpse of my hair. I drove you in circles, and let you find your way back to where we had started.

And there I was in front of you, just as exhaustion forced you to your knees. You raised your head to face me, looking hopeful. Had you done well? Had I gotten the chase I wanted?
“I thought I told you to run.” You didn’t have time to do more than flinch away from the disdain in my voice, and I was on you. My knee slammed against your chest and you were knocked back, my weight driving the breath out of you. One hand closed over your throat, pressing your head back, as the other flattened against your belly, my thumb digging painfully under your ribs. My lips were smirking, but my eyes were still hard.

A slow, lazy drawl, my mouth inches from your ear. “What are you, darling?”

I felt your throat working under my hand as you fought to swallow. “Yours.”

“Good.” My lips moved slowly downward, barely brushing your skin. My legs, I placed over your thighs, using my body to bind you in place. I flicked my tongue across your nipple, murmuring, “Say it again. What are you?”

A soft gasp, as my tongue sent shivers across your body. “I’m yours.”

And still further down, until my lips traced that favorite spot where hardness becomes softness, just below your ribcage. I breathed in the salty-sweet tang of your skin, sweat mixed with fear mixed with lust. With my teeth grazing your skin, my voice made a mockery of a pleading tone. “One more time?”

I heard your breath catch. “I’m yours.” And then there were no more words. I drove forward into you, grinding the flesh of your belly between my teeth. Human mouths were not made for this feast, but I did my best. And as I felt the hot, coppery rush of you over my tongue, I felt an answering wave in myself, a building pressure in the pit of my stomach, and lower. I let pout a low moan as pleasure washed over me, sending vibrations into the very core of you. You tried to sit up, a scream forming on your lips, but the pressure on your throat threw you back down, and allowed for only a whimper.

My other hand found the wound my mouth had started, and was burrowing under your ribs in earnest now. My fingers curled around a rib and as I felt it crack, the dam inside me burst and I collapsed against you, shuddering, sighing your name. You arched up into me, as if in response - but really, there was just nowhere else to flee, to escape the pain. In a way, it seemed almost as though you didn’t want to escape. A though you would stay there willingly, through it all, if that was what I wanted.

Why is that, I wonder?

Finally, my questing fingers found their prize. I could feel it pulsing under my hand, impossibly fast. You weren’t breathing so easily now, which wasn’t surprising. Not if you think about what I had to tear through to get there. I raised my head - you looked so beautiful. I kissed your cheek, hypnotized by the crimson stains on your uncharacteristically pale skin. My lips found your ear again and as I began to squeeze, to crush the fluttering muscle in my grasp, I whispered one word.

(Laugh) What’s the matter, my darling, cat got your tongue? It may not be much of a bedtime story, but you did ask.

Love, it was a dream. You’re perfectly safe, for as long as I want to keep you whole. Now get some sleep.

You too. Oh, and by the way; what are you?

Good. Sweet dreams…

BDSM By Lady Cera

I'll take you as you came to me
Aid and instruct you how to grow
Show you places as of yet, undreamt
With no fear of your dark desires

I'm your haven when times grow rough
The eye in the center of the storm
The warming snuggle of my lap
When there's no place else to go

There'll be no secrets hidden
No fears of what's inside
Acceptance is for who you are
Not what you think I want

I'll take you to that edge you fear
Push and prod and carry you beyond
By lash, by love, by force of will
I'll teach your spirit how to soar

I'll not beat you down nor lessen you
Your submission is never weakness
Your gift to me, a treasured one
Returned with love and strength

Your part in this, to make it work
There's but one thing that I demand
Your trust and mind, your heart and soul
In chains to me, everything you are