Saturday, March 26, 2011

Story Of A Dork By Jethro Shippe

Once upon a time in a land far away there lived a man called Jethro-a simple man living in a simple place called Dorkville.The Dorkvillians were renowned for being a bit slow ,but they were mainly contented,especially the men who would spend their days lounging around in pubs drinking,while the women were out in the fields labouring hard to grow their crops and look after their animals.Occasionally a man would get up off his barstool,stagger outside to the edge of the fields and start shouting at the women to work harder.The women,well used to this ,would say something like "Yes Sir" or "Yes Master" and get back to work,knowing it would soon be dusk when they could go home and cook supper for the men,do the dishes and general cleaning and then lie down exhausted in their beds until 4 am when they would have to get up and do it all over again(7 days a week).

Jethro was content with this life although he did want to travel and see the world a bit,also he was looking for a girlfriend,most of the girls in Dorkville he was related too and you wouldn't really call any of them pretty maids.

One evening he was drinking with his mate, leching at the barmaids, when a stranger came in.Turned out the stranger's name was Tapmargarine Stovespoon although he was known as Tap to his friends. Jethro and his mate chatted to Tap,asking him about his life.Turned out Tap lived in a place called Dominion,about a weeks journey away.Tap told them it was a really beautiful place ,especially the women, who were renowned throughout the land for their beauty, except in Dorkville,which didn't get much news from the outside world. On hearing this Jethro's eyes lit up-"and do the women do all the work there they do here?"

"They sure do Jethro" says Tap"they really look after you,treat you like a King".

A few days later Jethro packed a bag and set off after saying goodbye to the men and reminding the women to work hard in the fields as harvest time was coming up.

He travelled by foot for several days,staying in little places until finally he reached the gates of the Dominion.It was dark when he got there ,getting cold and starting to rain.Jethro knocked impatiently on the door. Finally he heard footsteps approaching,the door opened and there stood a woman,a beautiful woman it must be said dressed in a purple velvet dress and holding a lamp.

"gord you took ages to open the door"said Jethro as he leered at her.

She smiled at him "you must be tired" she said.

"I am ,and hungry too-got anything to eat?"

She led him to a small refectory on one side of a courtyard,he was seated and brought wine and a sumptous and hearty supper by another real beauty,couldn't take his eyes off her as he ate noisily.

"A bloke called Tap told me about this place,he told me it was good ere"

Jethro felt much better now after food and drink and was reassured that all about the place appeared to be how Tap had described it.

"Oh Tap "she said "yes we look after him" she smiled, "and we'll look after you just as well"

Jethro was now tired after his journey and wanted to sleep "Show me mee bed luv" he said to her.

He followed her across the courtyard into the main castle building ,it was very dark but out of the shadows he thought he saw someone walking across the courtyard dragging a crawling figure behind them on a leash "blimey-they treat their women even worse ere than in Dorkville" he thought.

They went up the stairs of the impressive castle building and she showed him his room for the night.

"Um this is nice" he said ,"lovely double bed-care to join me wench -lol"

She showed him his bathroom ,told him at what time breakfast was served and went to get him an extra pillow he asked for.When she came back he had passed out on the bed,oblivious to every sight and sound,including the sound of her locking his door as she left.

Next morning he woke late.feeling refreshed,after splashing a bit of water on his face and having a pee,he got dressed and prepared to go out to get one of those lovely wenches to serve him his breakfast.

He struggled with the doorknob,trying to force it but it was very solid "Oi-let me out" he yelled but noone came.Frustrated he sat down on the bed and thought what to do-this took some time as Jethro never thought about anything quickly. Eventually he decided to get up and take a look out the window-he did a double take ,not believing his eyes as what he saw shocked him to the core of his simple being.

The window looked down on the courtyard and even though he was high up on the top floor he could clearly make out what was going on down there.There was a circular seating area where women were sitting,a few women where standing and then kneeling on the floor were a load of men,plus a few girls. He saw one women just arriving and she had this guy on a lead-she took a seat and he took a place on the floor before her-he then knelt right down and kissed her feet.

"WTF is this place?" thought Jethro"i gotta get outta here fast". He tried the door again,desperately but to no avail-he started to sweat.

He was sitting on the bed when he heard footsteps approaching,the door opened and in walked the maid who had served his supper along with three other women.These three were dressed in what looked like police uniforms,black latex pants and jacket,white shirts and ankle boots.Around their waists they wore belts attached to which were a nightstick and a coiled whip.They were all staggeringly beautiful.

"This is him Miss" said the maid who by now had adopted a kneeling position.
One of the women,the one who appeared to be in charge walked over and stood above Jethro,sitting on the bed.

"On your knees boy-now!"

"What?" said Jethro.

She beckoned to the two other women who came over and quickly put cuffs on his wrists and ankles and fitted a collar around his neck.His arms were bound behind his back and he was pushed to the ground by the guardesses.

The head guard,who was tall and blond spoke-"Simone here has been telling us how you turned up here late last night,acted like you owned the place,demanded food and drink and acted in a rude and obnoxious manner to her and Katy-what do you have to say for yourself boy?"

Jethro had completely forgotten how he had acted the previous night,didn't feel he'd behaved in anything other than a normal way for him-"I didn't do anything wrong he said,just asked for some food and a bed for the night"

"That's Miss boy-when you speak to a Lady you address her as Miss" she said as she grabbed his leash and forced his head to the floor.The other guardesses removed his shirt and one of them lashed him severely on his back six times.

Jethro cried out in pain"aaarrgghh".

"Quiet boy!" the head guard shouted "you are in some serious trouble here,the more you whine the worse it will be for you"

Jethro ,whose face was still pinned against the floor, realized he was in trouble here and said nothing while he tried to collect his thoughts. Finally he said "can i go home now ?"

She laughed and ordered the guardess to lash his back another six times, "You're not going anywhere except for our dungeon where you will stay until we decide what punishment you will receive,and that is "Miss" boy when you speak to me,and all the other Ladies",she gestured to the guard who gave him another six lashes,harder this time.

"Y-yes Miss" said Jethro who was beginning to get the picture,difficult though it was for him.
"Take him down to the dungeon" she said and the two guardesses dragged him on his leash down the stairs to the basement where the dungeon lay. After stripping his remaining clothing they put him in a cell and locked the door,pausing only to laugh at him as they left.

Jethro lay on the uncomfortable steel framed bed and stared at the ceiling.How he wished he was back in Dorkville where life was easy and everything was done for him.

After a while he heard footsteps coming down the stairs,he looked at the figure approaching him through the darkness.

"Hi Jethro" said Tap "how are you doing mate?"

"You b******,you told me this place was like Dorkville,everything the same except the women were beautiful here,well that is the only thing you told me that is true you liar!"

"Sorry mate" said Tap " I tricked you I know "but the thing is,Dorkville and places like that-their days are numbered. Things haven't changed in those places for centuries. The times they are -a -changin ,as they say"

"You see Jethro" he continued,"times change,there are only a few places like Dorkville left now,and in the future there will be none."

"What do you mean?" Jethro asked,"Dorkville is going to become like it is here?"

Tap nodded, "even now Jethro it's happening,the women of Dorkville are in contact with the Ladies here and soon they will be in charge in Dorkville. One night when the Dorkville men are all asleep,intoxicated as usual ,an army of Dominion subs(led by a Mistress) will turn up and capture the men who will be brought here for retraining,just like you are about to be retrained.The women will take control and an army of Dominion subs will help them rebuild Dorkville to be a female friendly place".

"What?" said Jethro,by now completely confused.

"All i say is true Jethro,it will happen in about 2 months time by which time hopefully you will be trained and can return to Dorkville to help with the rebuilding"

"What sort of rebuilding ?" asked Jethro."I mean Dorkville has all it needs,plenty of pubs,that's all you need really.I mean there is a blacksmiths, a hardware store,a general provisions store". Jethro smiles to himself as he thinks of his cousin Rosie,who is the blacksmith,such big muscly arms she has.

"Apart from that there's a builders,run by Susan and her gang of girls and a couple of milkmaids,that's all we need in Dorkville"

"Well it's all going to change Jethro,the pubs will all go to be replaced by winebars and bistros, a new shopping mall is being developed full of nice little cafes,handbag shops,fashion shops and shoe shops where the Ladies of Dorkville can relax while the men go out to work the land all day."

"Why do you help them Tap? I mean you are betraying your own kind-your brothers."

"I used to be like you Jethro,arrogant and lazy,disrespectful and inconsiderate,but they trained me here and now i wouldn't have it any other way- I am much more content now."

Jethro pondered Tap's statement but couldn't imagine himself ever thinking that way.

"You'll find what I say is true Jethro,if you're prepared to listen and learn.If you're not prepared then you'll lose out Jethro-your Dorkville women are going to become much more demanding,you'll just get ignored if you don't play by their rules and you know you can't live without them."

"So what are they going to do with me now Tap?"

"I'm not sure jethro although i did hear you were going to be put on trial tomorrow night for being disrespectful."

Trial -what the.."

"So at this so called "trial" what happens?"

"The judge will sentence you-you'll get a punishment ,probably including a whipping and other stuff."

"Other stuff?"

"Yes,they might get you to wear women's clothing or a pigs head for a week or two,you might get a period in solitary,further regular whippings,they might put a gag on you so you can't talk. It all depends on what sort of mood the judge is in really."

"Anyway mate ,i better get going,i have some chores to finish,otherwise i'll be in trouble-seeya Jethro."

Jethro mumbled a feeble "bye".

Jethro spent most of the rest of the day in solitary. In the early evening a guardess arrived with some food and water,she took him from his cell,bound him to a whipping bench and gave him a sound beating with a cane.She made him thank her for it before returning him to his cell and leaving,turning off the light as she went to leave him in complete darkness.

Jethro slept surprisingly well considering and awoke with shafts of sunlight coming in to the dungeon. Soon a guardess arrived and told him he was to be put on trial that evening. She produced a court summons document and pointed out to him where he had to sign,Jethro marked the paper with a cross in the appropriate place.

An hour later another woman arrived who explained she was an educational supervisor.She tested him on basic arithmetic and literacy but she did not stay long as he failed to answer a single question correctly,as he failed on level 1 of the 5 level tests and did not progress on to the higher levels.

Later on ,about 2 hours before the trials were due to start a stunningly beautiful olive skinned guardess arrived ,and after making him kiss her boots,she led him leashed into the courtyard and walked him round a bit. One or two of the Ladies present showed a mild interest in him,asked him a few questions.One of them in particular took his leash from the guardess and made him kneel before her while she questioned him more closely.

"Well he's completely unskilled and completely out of condition but i suppose i might pay 5 dollars for him at the auctions-i need a general skivvy."

"5 dollars for that Liz,you gotta be joking-he's not worth the upkeep." All the Ladies laughed and poured scorn on Jethro.

"OK take him away " said the lady who had shown some interest"bye Jethro and good luck tonight -i hear the judge has a terrible headache lol."

After being allowed to shower and eat something the guardess returned to take Jethro to be prepared for his trial.He was led out to the trials area and strung up by his wrists,to wait there until he was called forward.There were 4 other men in the same predicament ,but they were under orders not to speak. As the time for the trials approached more and more Ladies arrived, some with their subs and came over to see who was on trial this evening and what crime they had commited.They examined the papers for each of the accused and looked disdainfully at them,telling them how ashamed they should be and how they deserved everything coming to them.

Finally the judge arrived with her attendants and all the seats were taken. The judge opened proceedings with a warm welcome to everyone,wishing them an enjoyable evening. The clerk to the court read out the names of the accused and then asked the guardesses to prepare the first defendant to be brought forward to kneel before the judge.

"Please bring forward Jethro Shippe" the clerk announced. Jethro was unhitched from the post and lowered to the ground and then dragged forward to be placed kneeling on the plinth facing the judge.The audience hushed as the judge prepared to speak.

"Jethro Shippe-you kneel here before me accused of showing gross disrespect and insolence to 2 maids and 3 guardesses here-how do you plead?"

Jethro shuddered ,eyes lowered,his trial was about to begin..

Meeting Her Girl by Persephone Absent


Shy , unassuming, discreetly beautiful and blessed with the power to attract the attention of any red bloodied person that had the benefit of meeting her. I had not just merely met her; I owned her, I still do.

I met her some eighteen months ago, she targeted me as she does a lot of Misses, flirtatious, soft words edged with a steely submissiveness. Her pleasure in the main derived from the presence of a Dominatrix, the play of words and the ever present undertone of sexual tension.

I hadn’t sought a female submissive in my Second Life, I already have one RL, and she satisfies that percentage of me that only Woman to woman D/s can supply. ( a smile curves my lips as images, aromas and sibilant cries of pleasure appear and shimmer before me as I write ). Our meetings contained the sharp edge of the insistent urge for sexual gratification - and I am not into my own denial.

Her legs; in the first picture I saw of her, breathtakingly long, almost thin, the muscle dictating their delicate curve. The laughter that echoed in my bedroom as I saw the red heels she wore. The knowledge that my boys would drool if ever I shared that image; and no, I never have.

She slipped neatly into my life, a gift she has of being unobtrusive and yet indispensable. We shared times of fluffy slippered laughter and others of intense passion that left us both breathless and satiated.

Living only a few hours apart it was an obvious step to meet each other, no pressures or expectations are greater than when a Mistress meets who she owns virtually. She will need to tell you how long she spent nervously plucking up the courage to enter my home, I had left the door on the latch so she could enter and leave her clothes by the door, she would be allowed to wear them again on departure from the house.

As she knelt by the door naked and trembling I observed her from the top of the stairs, avidly drinking in the reality of her translucent skin, her pale nipple tips puckered in the cool air. The tumbled mass of honeyed hair silken under the harsh lamplight gave movement to the heavy expectant aura that enveloped us both.

I entered a room indicating she should follow, no word spoken. I pulled her hair forcing her to stand, both of us of equal height. My eyes examined what I would play with, use, hurt. Her cunt was silkily smooth, kept that way as part of her instructions, my finger tip trailed over her belly to the dark line of her closed slit, no need to ask when or how she had come last, I knew.

At times I curse my lack of self control, but why should I control the lust that tore through me at that moment, I bent to kiss the pink tipped breast that offered itself to my lips. Only then did she release a yelp of desire and then her voice low with barely contained passion vowed her love and fealty to me.

Bound to my dining room table legs spread she was my feast garnished with silken scarves, brightly coloured clothes pegs and cracked and flaking candle wax. The pegs were a cartwheel of colour surrounding her nipples, dimpling the delicate flesh of her breasts. A speculum held her cunt open wide, fingers, fruit, toys, and my tongue had all held court in her dripping sex. I called her the names that made her writhe in humiliation, taunting and teasing until the evening turned to night and her pleas for release heralded the dawn. Her orgasm made the hairs rise on my neck, my palms to sweat and the need to come myself overwhelming. I lay atop of her still jerking and shuddering form rubbing my aching clit on her prominent hip bone, the length of my body pinning her under my own cataclysmic release. We lay unable to speak or move, nor wanting to, the moment was created to savor to the full.

That first time has become one of several meetings. She has met some of my friends and they look at us and ponder as to what our relationship is and perhaps out the corner of an eye they might see my hand slip under her skirt to stroke that smooth sweet cunt that I own.

Cuckholding by Karlton Deezul

“Belated Cuckolding”

It's funny how we can feel so smart and assured of so many things in ourselves and in our lives. We can be so definite about how we feel about some things, nothing will change our minds, we just know and that's that. Then one day .... without warning, something happens and it all changes. The walls tumble, the doors are all kicked open and what we once thought we knew, we now know, we just didn't know.

Karl sat at the table, holding a coffee mug, now cold to the touch and empty. The mug was tilted at an angle pointing towards him and he noted that it hadn’t moved for the past ten minutes or so. Across the table, or to be more precise, to the left side of the table, sat his ex wife Sher. She was a small blonde woman, 5 foot, curvy, small framed but with an attitude that could cut a sergeant major to a whimper in 2 minutes. She was 10 years younger than Karl and at 36 still only looked 25 or 18 from behind in tight jeans, like she wore on this day. Separated and divorced some years, having kids, they still met and chatted about various things and got on reasonably well. The purpose of this visit however, was to talk about some new requirements, due to the fact that this ex wife now had a new lover and had so for the past five months. That was the reason for the small photo on the table, one of this new lover and this was one fine looking man, an artist. Karl had spent the last hour listening to the details of all this, and it was just one kind of shock after the next. He had no idea about it for starters, even though he and Sher met weekly and his kids all knew and they had said nothing to him. Not only was he being told about it now, he was being told in intimate detail, very intimate detail. He was also being compared in many ways to this new man, his own weaknesses being rattled out, one after the other. All of this was so surprising, especially the way Sher opened up to him, when she had become so private over most personal matters since they separated. However, the biggest shock of all to Karl, was how he felt about it all. He knew things were over with this woman, even though they still went on walks, went to kid’s things together, met for coffee and had chats and even hugged on meeting each other. But this was different. This was now telling him, it was “All Over”, finished, ended, Done! And that is what started his feelings now. He felt happy inside, content, no, delighted. He gazed at his ex wife’s eyes, saw the happiness, couldn’t really remember ever seeing it quite like that before, not even on their wedding day and yet it made him happy. No, - more than happy. Excited, elated, blushing, risen, dammit, turned on by the whole thing. What on earth was happening here?

Sher had said she “loved the man, deeply, madly, he was an angel, a beautiful man, a real lover, made her feel complete, fulfilled, ecstatic, constantly aroused. He was so much more a lover than karl had ever been, more of a man than karl had ever been, attentive, responsive, she wanted to be around him every minute of everyday, she thought about him every waking moment.

And then it started to get even more intimate. Details of how they cooked together, played together, played cards and if she won, she knelt and gave him a blow job and if he won, he stood her up, bent her across the table, lifted her skirt took down her panties down and fucked her like no one ever has before as she squirmed, wriggled and pushed herself back out more to this man as he took her away to dreamland. She described his cock in detail,- how she loved sucking on it deeply,- how he pleased her with his tongue, how he kissed and this went on and on. --- The strangest part of all this, was the look on her face as she spoke. A kind of dreamy glazed distant look as she passed on detail upon detail. Even when it changed suddenly and she spoke directly to karl, saying “not like you, just a pig, but then you always were just a pig, just took me a while to figure it all out. ..... But then you know that don’t you sweety? ...You know you are just a pig, ...don’t you?. His mouth, still half open, he managed a mumbled kind of “yes, yes ... I do know that Sher” --“Well pig” she said sharply, “this coffee cup is empty, so get your useless ass over there and make some more”. Instantly karl felt himself rise, saying “yes dear” and move quickly in to his small apartment kitchen, beside where they sat and started fresh coffee, as he heard “good piggy” from his ex wife’s exquisite lips.

“I told Andre all about you of course and he said you did sound like a useless pig. He is so intelligent, mmmmmm” the raised voice said as karl prepared clean mugs. This heightened his senses even more, made him feel humiliated, yet excited, excited because he was feeling his place in all this, the one spurned, the one cast aside, making coffee ................hold on...the one cuckolded. No, he couldn’t be cuckolded, he was divorced. Surely you had to be married, or at least partnered, to be cuckolded. He would have to look it up. Hold on, what was he thinking? Look what up? A cuckold? What was going on?--- “I did tell him you could make decent coffee though pig, and he said well at least you can do something and I told him that it was still a pleasure to slap your stupid face at times. Mmmm “pig”, I like that name for you, --- that's what I’ll call you from now on”

Karls face just burned more and more and yet the feelings he was having, just wouldn't go away. He knew he sounded like a real dummy when he sheepishly responded, “Well you know I will do whatever I can to support you Sher and I just want to see you happy” --“Well right now, a mug of coffee will make me happy pig, whatever the hell you are doing over there, day dreaming probably, move your lazy ass” -- “Yes dear” he heard himself reply.

Sher was always sharp tongued with him, berating him constantly, even in front of others, family and friends. He learned early on that it simply wasn’t worth talking back. If he ever did, it usually lead to him being sent to a corner at their bedtime, as she took a vibrator from a locker drawer, and while he couldn’t see her, he knew she was lying back on the bed, her knees up and spread wide as she pleasured herself passionately with her toy, with the occasional “ohhh fuckk” and eventually her shaking orgasm came and the room went quiet. He knew to stay in the corner until told to come to bed and sometimes she would doze off and he would be left there for some hours, before she would awake and tell him to get into bed.

Karl accepted his wife’s general attitude during their marriage and he always knew, while he felt her harshness towards him, he also felt those tingles. She was a woman afterall, a beautiful one at that, intelligent, smart, sexy, but this was different. Now this beautiful woman was sharing intimate details about the wonderful new love of her life and calling him a pig, and he was feeling she was right.

But again, he thought, where on earth were these feelings coming from? He always felt cuckolds were just, well, strange, odd characters, how could a man act like that,..... of course he realised something just then, those words .... “a man”. He wasn’t a man, was he? No, he was a pig, just as his ex wife had described him.

But he was single now. Or was he? Could he really go his own way? Would he need to ask Sher first if he wanted to consider meeting someone. Would she just say “I’ll think about it pig”? With these new developments, his feelings became even more deeply ingrained, and he was finally seeing himself for what he really was. He was a submissive. He always was a submissive and always would be.

“Pig, the COFFEE - you stupid boy” The voice this time was a lot sharper – “Sorry yes Sher, coming now"

One Lick Only By Anonymous

I wear knee length skirts to the office.
Loose or pleated skirts, blouse or sweater.
He wears jeans and short sleeve shirts.
It started at the copy machine.
With one of those soft glue mailing strips.
We had been joking for months.
Stray looks and dark thoughts.
I was not his boss…technically.
But, he followed my directions.
He went out of his way to get my opinions.
I watched him as he bent over the copier.
It had jammed, again.
I told him in detail how to clear the jam.
He was studiously opening and closing levers.
Plucking bits of paper from the gears.
His pants were tight on his bottom as he bent over his work.
At last he had the paper jam cleared and turned to me for approval.
I looked into his eyes and saw…..a need there.
I reached to the counter and lifted the long strip of sticky paper.
As he stood there staring back at me, I wrapped the strip of paper around his neck.
I pressed the glue covered ends together.
It formed a loose ring around his neck.
I let it fall inside his shirt collar.
My voice a little husky, I whispered….
“You performed well….slave…
For your efforts…I grant you this collar of servitude.
From this time on, you will obey my slightest command.”
Before he could respond, I turned and left the room.
The day passed, decisions were made…paper shuffled.
Lunch came and went….at long last 5 o’clock arrived.
We had been apart except for occasionally passing in the hall.
As a last little chore for the day, I walked to the supplies room.
Everyone had left but me….I thought.
As I entered the supply room, I noticed the light was on.
People were always forgetting to turn it off at end of day.
I entered and turned to go around the file cabinets there.
I gasped…just a little… to see him there…on his knees.
In front of a file drawer putting away some contract.
He turned and looked up at me.
From my standing position, I could see he still wore the paper collar.
It was white…and did not stand out from his shirt.
He pushed the file drawer closed, turned on his knees and looked up at me.
I stood and looked calmly down at him.
We looked long into each others eyes.
I saw the look of decision cross his face.
He looked bashfully down and quietly whispered.
I have kept my collar mistress...I am yours to command.
I stood…and looked down at him there.
I thought of all the complications of an office….entanglement.
All the things that…could go wrong.
I walked slowly around him there on the floor.
I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair.
I walked back in front of him.
I made my decision.
Fingers still twined in his hair.
I closed my grip on his hair, pulled his head up to look in his eyes.
I said, “Yes, I accept your service.
From this point on you will do anything I ask…without question.
You will strive to please me.
And I….will occasionally reward you if you do well.
Do you understand?”
He nodded his head gently against my palm.
I looked into his deep blue eyes and in a low growl said…
“As your offer has pleased me, I will grant you a small favor.”
At this, as I stood close in front of him…I slowly lifted my skirt.
Slowly raised it inch by inch to my waist.
I reached down, and with one hand pulled my silk panties to the side.
I whispered huskily to him…”Slave….you may have…one…lick.”
If you please me…there may be more in days to come.
It is months later now…he is my…official assistant now.
He has learned many things.
For instance, he has learned how to prolong one lick to an eternity.
Tonight….I may grant him a second favor.

Birthday Confession By Wheels

Mistress mentioned there were restaurants in SL that gave you servers, rooms, the works and how she had always wanted to try it. So on her birthday i gave her just that and more. I planned a nice night for us, reserved a skybox, "the rose garden" where we would be served. Everything was set for her special night. Even with her asking, what did you do? Where are we going? I didn't give her any hints or let it slip. The only thing i mentioned was to dress in one of her nice dresses and the reservation was for 3 pm slt.

After the discussion at 12 slt i had planned to bathe her get her nice and relaxed (she had a rough day in RL) before our night out but between RL and the other things i had planned unfortunately the bath had to be put off but not before Mistress had somehow turned on the bath in a way that i've never seen and the bath water is still running as i write this, hmm wonder what the water bill is going to be? Anyway back to my plans and Mistress's special birthday surprise. Madi's exhibit was the first stop on my list and it was awesome to see Madi's work and we both enjoyed it a lot. Now to the next spot, still telling Mistress, no i cant tell it will ruin the surprise. I tp'd out leaving about 40 minutes until our reservation and i arrived at a mall that lead to a romantic ballroom. Sending Mistress a tp and making sure to leave .... in the tp so it wouldn't give it away the surprise until she rezzed. We danced, listened to the music, and talked enjoying our time together and with 10 minutes until her big surprise i asked Mistress if she was ready. To say she was ready would be an understatement and i tp'd out. I sent her another tp again and again ... in the location.

When Mistress rezzed she was indeed happily surprised arriving at the restaurant. Our server Stephy greeted us and took us up to the Rose Garden skybox where there was a nice gazebo surrounded in white roses and a table for two. I pulled Mistress's chair out made sure she was comfortable and sat across from her. We received menus, ordered drinks, appetizers, our meal, and dessert it was like at real life date in SL minus the calories of course. After we finished pictures were taken and we had plenty of time to still dance and Mistress really enjoyed her birthday surprise but i had once more surprise for her. Knowing how much Mistress loves nature, i had a special place in mind, one last tp and Mistress arrived in a secluded tent in a forest complete with cuddles and other animations and well what happened there is a secret or perhaps for another confession.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

THE PREY by Destiny Teardrop

Darkness falls. The allotted time approaches.

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

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

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

I bend down and place a leather gloved hand on his neck, grasping under his chin, I lift his head up, my voice is firm, assured as the corners of my mouth curl up into a slight smile, ‘Look upon your Destiny’ I tells him, as I attach a leash to the collar on his neck and tugs him, crawling, after me.

The air was thick with the heavy scent of lust. I could feel it in every pore of my skin. My heart was thumping hard in my breast as I pulled him along behind me, towards the room. I could hear his ragged breathing, punctuated by the occasional whimper as he struggled to keep up with me, the leash tugging hard on the collar I had placed around his neck.

I paused at the door and knelt down so that my face was level with his. I leant in close to him and lifted up his chin. I looked into his eyes: they were watery, his pupils were large, enquiring, he was dripping wet, soaked through from the rain and perspiring quite heavily from his crawling to keep up.

I smiled at him, 'Nervous, my boy?'.
I heard him audibly gulp as he replied, ' Mistress and excited also'.
I playfully patted the side of his face, my leather-clad hand making contact with his cheek,
'Good boy, just how you should be.'
I grasped his collar and stood, raising him up to standing as I did so. 'Now remember, this is a test. One you must pass if you wish to please me and gain my permanent collar. Is that understood?'. He nodded as I pulled him into the room, pushing the door firmly shut behind me.

'Get into the bathroom and prepare. Your instructions are in there' I tossed a small black bag to him. He caught it and muttered, 'Yes Mistress' as he proceeded to the bathroom.

Inside the bag was a large butt plug, lube, four clothes pegs, a razor, toiletries and a list of instructions.

The list read:

Follow these instructions in this order:
* Plug your ass
* Shave your genital area
* Peg your nipples
* Peg your perineum
* Edge
*Come crawling back to my feet plugged, pegged and erect

While he was in the bathroom, I removed my jacket and poured myself a large glass of red wine. I sat on the upright chair, crossed my legs and sipped my wine, my booted foot swinging back and forth as I relaxed and waited patiently for my slut to emerge, ready to please me. I picked up the newspaper and idly turned the pages, catching up on the latest gossip. My ear stayed tuned to the noises in the bathroom and I smiled.

After about 15 minutes the door opened, I looked up and he crawled out on all fours. I felt my stomach knot and my clitoris tingle at the sight of his naked, masculine body as he approached. He paused at my feet and knelt up, legs spread, hands behind back, the way he had been instructed to. His arousal was very evident.

'Good boy' I said as I leant forward and flicked the peg attached to his left nipple. He winced slightly, 'Oh, is that a little tender?' I chuckled as I lightly touched the peg and twisted it anti-clockwise. He whimpered, I smiled and felt the growing moisture in my panties.

I stood up, still smiling and unbuttoned my blouse. My black, lacy bra was now visible, as were my large breasts spilling over the top of the bra cup. I leant behind and unzipped my skirt, easing it down over my full hips, I let it drop the ground then stepped out of it and kicked it swiftly to one side. I pulled off my shirt and tossed it away to join my skirt on the floor. I now stood before him in my black underwear, incuding lacey top stockings, suspender belt and knee length, black leather, stiletto boots.

His jaw dropped as he let out a moan of desire. I grinned as I saw his cock was now even more rigid. 'Mistress, you are so beautiful', he panted.

'Rub your cock and fuck your arse for me, my slut' I commanded.
'yes Mistress' he muttered as his hands went to work.
I stood before him, my right hand sliding down into my panties and I too, began to rub. I moved closer, my booted toes touching his spread thighs. I slowly rubbed my wet cunt, soaking my fingers with my hot silky juices as I watched my slut getting closer and closer to the edge.

I pulled my hand out of my panties and wiped my index finger across his top lip.

'Do NOT lick your lips' I commanded.

'Y...yes..Mistress' he whimpered then groaned. as I pushed my finger in my mouth and sucked it, before sliding my hand back into my panties again.

Within a few seconds, his breathing was faster, louder, he was visibly trembling. 'Mistress....please....I'm on the edge' he gasped.

'Hold it. Don't stop. Don't you dare cum', I said firmly as I placed my fingers on either side of my lace panties and pulled then down and over my boots, stepping out of them and tossing them over my shoulder. I stood back up, legs slightly open as I continued to pleasure myself. His eyes were fixed on my sex. He licked his lips greedily.

In an instant, I leant down and slapped him hard across his left cheek, a resounding SMACK echoed in the room as my right hand made contact, my wet fingers leaving a trail of wetness on his upper cheek.

I raised my voice, 'I said don't lick!'. He looked at me aghast as his cheek began to turn red.

'I'm sorry Mistress' he moaned as my index and middle finger returned to my cunt and I began to stroke myself again, my throbbing clitoris swollen under my fingertips, my juices flowing more readily at the sight of my whimpering, desperate slut.

Tease and denial, my very favourite thing. Oh yes, this was going to be a fun night.

The Waiting By Kael

I stir and I shift, as I wake alone,
I find myself, here, in a silent home.
I slowly rise, my vision a blur,
I wipe my eyes, and I look for her.

I slip from the bed, and cross the floor,
I call out her name, as I pass through the door.
My words echo, so empty, in the silent air,
The silence, oppressive, as I move down the stair.

Bare feet on stone, through the next empty room,
Past the couch where we lay, till the fall of the moon.
The kitchen is cold, and the foyer is still,
The piano is silent, the air has a chill.

I push through the doors, and I step outside,
Bare chest, kissed by sunrise, nothing to hide.
The campfire’s burned low, now smolders to ash,
Waves lap at the shore, making hardly a splash.

I take in a breath, and hold it, so near,
God, how I ache, when she is not here.
My pain is so real, I cannot deny,
To say any less, would be such a lie.

But life makes demands, and she answers the call,
Responsibility. Duty. She’ll never let fall.
And so I will wait, here down on my knees,
Pain in my heart, and the cool morning breeze.

My duty is to her, and to her alone,
I will feel this ache, feel it cut to the bone.
I’ll live honest and miss her, living right here,
My love in my heart, held close, held dear.

Not once will I demand, complain or whine,
Not once will I burden her, with these aches of mine.
For the burden I bear, I bear as a treasure,
For her, I feel everything, the pain and the pleasure.

I will ache, I will miss her, every time she is gone,
I resolve this, here and now, as I stand on the lawn.
I will not close my heart, to distance the pain,
I will not live less openly, hide tears in the rain.

And when she returns, my heart… it will leap,
Her presence, it sooths, so pure, so deep.
All I need is her voice, and I’m once more complete,
And she will find me here, worshipful, bowed down, at her feet.

Confession Two By Azrayl

My heart feels like its about to burst out of my chest as i recheck the address once again. 1234 Willow street. Yep got the right one. I park my car just down the block and take in a deep breathe. "ok you can do this. deep breath and just go up to the door. This is what you wanted and what she wants. you can do this" I keep muttering to myself, trying to convince myself of doing this.

We met a couple of months ago on a website for Mistress's looking for subs in thier home cities. I had accidently found the site and was just surfing when one particular profile caught my attention. After reading the profile a few times and acutally leaving the website, I found myself drawn back to it a day later. It seemed to be the only thing i could remember of the whole site. After a bit of debate with myself, i had decided to go ahead and make a profile of myself and contact her. After hitting the send button and sending her my profile, i never though i would hear from her again.

A week later while searching my emails i had one from a name that seemed familar but i could not quite put my finger on who it was. Opening the email up and reading it i could feel my heart start to race as i realized it was from HER. Stopping and calming my breathing down again, I re-read the email. She had said my profile was interesting and would like to chat more with me if that was ok. Eagerly i wrote her back and that started a wonderful couple of months getting to know this amazing Domme.

Shaking my head i bring myself back to the present as I get ready to go to her front door. Seveal doubts run thru my head, as i lock my car door and walk down the block to her house. Climbing up the stairs, the front door opens up and there SHE is standing with the light shining behind her. My breath once again gets caught in my chest as i gaze at her. The pics we had exchanged did nothing compared to her beauty in real life. Her long flowing red hair, cascading down her shoulders. The beautiful black and skin tight top and mini skirt. I feel my eyes grow wider as i look down her body and see the black laced thigh high stockings, i find myself licking my lips. She is standing there in a pair of black shoes to finish off the most wonderful view i have seen in many many years.

"wont you come in?" her voice purrs out at me. Even though its soft, i found myself shivering at the strength and demand behind the words. Nodding i finish climbing the stairs and wait for her to go back inside the house. Sniffing the air and catching her scent and the smell of lavender in the air, i follow her inside.

She leads me into the living room where candles are lighten and the room smells powerfully of the lavender. Turning to me and smiling " are you sure you wish to go thru with this?"

Unable to take my eyes off her long encased legs i nod my head. I watch as she moves closer to me. A sharp slap across my face, jerks my face up and i look right into the amazing eyes. " you will kneel to me now or face punishment" Dropping to my knees, and placing my hands behind me, i sit there, my cheek stinging from her slap, awaiting my orders.

For what seems like a very long time of her standing there infront of me, she moves off to the side. I dont dare move a muscle and wait for her next command. "so you do obey quickly, good i like that in my boys." Knowing what we had planed for tonight, my heart races and will not calm down at all.

Hearing some rustling behind me, i close my eyes and try to calm myself down. I can hear her moving around to stand once again infront of me. "mmmm eyes closed boy? keep them that way then and take your clothing off" Quickly obeying her commands i strip down to my birthday suit. Time had been kind to me as well as the gym. I can hear her take in a small gasp of breathe as i had removed my shirt. Finaly naked i knelt back down and waited with my eyes closed.

"ok open your eyes now boy" I open them to see her standing infront of me with a black strap on around her waist. Her black laced thigh highs still around those long wonderful legs. I can feel myself stir and grow hard just looking at her. My gaze is transfixed at the large strap on infront of me. "you like what you see there boy?" Nodding slowly and licking my lips i slowly look up at her face. She is smiling with a wide smile, stepping towards me her voice commanding " now be agood boy and show me how much you like this"

the black dildo just centimeters away from my mouth, i lean forward and lightly lick the tip of it up and down the head, feeling how smooth and cool it is in my mouth as i slowly slide my tongue down the shaft. I can feel the head of the dildo hit the back of my throat and i start to choke on it. Pulling back i start to move back and forth, getting it nice and wet, my eyes still locked on her legs and how smooth and silky they look in the thigh highs. Feeling myself fully aroused, a small moan escapes around the dildo in my mouth. "thats enough boy" she whispers. I pull back out and wait for the next step we are about to take.

watching her move around my body to stand behind me, i shiver with pure excitement. "you know what i want you to do boy, now move" I move forward on all fours. lowering my upper body to allow my ass it raise up in the air. Feeling her hands behind me wet with lube and rubbing along my ass crack and around my virgin asshole. I gasp with surprise at the coolness of the jelly. Hearing her purr happily i felt one of her hands holding onto a ass cheek wide and rubbing the tip of the black strap on against my puckered and tight asshole. Pushing against me, my body resisiting her pushes against myself. Growling softly "let your body relax boy". Trying to follow her instructions, i can feel her push harder against my asshole until finally i push back just enough and it slides into me. A sharp pain runs up my back as i was entered. Again i was so amazed that it went in and was so smooth. The sensations were confusing, on one hand it was painful and felt unnatural, but on the other hand the wonderful waves of pleasure roll thru my body. "are you ready boy?" i hear the pleasure and eagerness in her voice. All i can do is whimper and nod my head. Slowly she pushes deep into me. a loud groan escapes my throat as pleasure i have never felt or even knew existed run up my spine to my mind and explodes. Feeling her fulling inside me then sliding out, i rock back and forth on her. "thats a good boy, you like this dont you, you like being filled dont you slut boy" All i can do is moan and nod my head as i rock back and forth on her strap on. My hard manhood seems to grow even bigger as i feel the pre cum dripping out of it with each thrust of her strap on. A sharp stinging sensation erupts on my ass cheek as i realize she is slapping me now. Rocking harder and faster against her i feel myself building up tension. Grunting in pleasure i look over my shoulder and pant " i cant last much longer Mistress". She responded with placing her stocking legs over mine and pound harder and faster into my ass. "you can cum for me boy, make sure you cum for me hard"

Grunting and groaning, i lose myself in the sensations and feel a train rushing up my legs and out of my hard cock as my orgasm rushes against me. Its like the world has exploded as lights are flashing, it seems all sounds are magnified as i hear her breathe and yet my own moans as my cock spasms and shoots ribbon after ribbon of cum onto the floor. She slowed down as i hit my orgasm and as i slowly came down the natural high i feel all the energy i had inside me flow out. Shakily i fall to my stomache just as she pulls out of me. Feeling totally exhausted and laying in my pool of cum, i wait for the world to come back into focus.

For what seems to be hours, i hear "you can get up and clean the mess you made"
Gasping "yes Mistress" i get up and start cleaning. looking up i see her standing there. back in her leather outfit, and those gorgeous thigh high stockings infront of me.

The end.

Her Pride by Nuala

The statuesque bald, black woman got off the train. A crowd quickly gathered around her, mostly males, who seemed stunned by her muscular form. She was wearing a simple shift dress--sleeveless, that showed off her amazingly well developed biceps and shoulders, gathering at the neck. Even for a Black woman, her muscles were quite grand, but not overdone like a body builder. And as she moved to the station window to get her next ticket, she rested her bags on the ground so that she could easily pull money from her wallet. Bending down her skirt rode up, showing off her well defined thighs. The thing that attracted the most attention, however were her arms, which bore large numbered and lettered tattoos on each arm. One read something starting with an F in large letters. The other appeared to be three numbers. The men, who seemed to be drawn to her as if magnetically, had a particular interest in the numbers, it seemed, and they started to buzz about it--you could hear the murmurs "What do they mean?" "Lucky Numbers?" "How many boyfriends she's had?" The man at the ticket window stared but hesitated to ask. She bought her next ticket and then stood to wait for the next train. A nerdy male sidled up to her, eyeing her up and down, shaking his head. She glared at him.

"See something?" she asked, her tone low and annoyed.

"Yeah," he said. "Looks like a woman who isn't happy knowing her place."

She laughed and looked up at him, shaking her head. "What do the numbers mean, anyway?" he asked her.
"oh those are my important measurements." She replied. He laughed.. "What, your ring size?" he asked "You know for your engagement ring?"

She shook her head slowly. "It's my bicep," she said, pointing to her right arm. "I can't really read it" he said to her, starting to rub his fingers over his own muscles idly. He was wearing an MIT tee shirt, and glasses, and under his arm he carried a netbook housed in a protective sleeve. He twigeted nervously with his blackberry. He was obviously one of those smart, geeky guys, on his way to some kind of conference.

Slowly she starts to flex her right arm, the muscles bulging, the letters popping out....the O in the word "FOURTEEN" showing very round. As she did so, his eyes started to widen, even though he tried to act as though he wasn't impressed. Others around started to stare. His hand stroked over his own bicep as she did so, and as he watched her muscle pump up, bulging out like a baseball, he knew it was bigger than his.. so he covered his own with his hand, and started nervously clearing his throat. "Well," he said, "I guess you're one of those jock girls... only exercises, not much of a thinker. Always at the gym," he said glibly. "So what's the other number?"

She grinned widely, her hand stroking over the three numbers tattooed over the muscle. As she did so, she started to flex it, the muscle bulking up conspicuously as she tensed it. The numbers 1 3 4 started to pop out large, almost jumping out at him, the 3 the middle looking particularly huge under the curve of her well formed bulging muscle. "That's my IQ" she said to him, her white teeth flashing at him. And as she said it..he started to shake.. and walked away.

She shouted behind him "So where's my place?" but he kept walking, his head hanging down, defeated, knowing this woman was more than he could ever be, both in body and in mind.

One Year by Hylarks

I write this as a very happy submissive.

As of the date of April 5th, which is fast approaching, I will be under the Lady Destiny's wing for one year. I am very proud to call her Mistress.

This past year has been filled with service, learning, ups and downs, happiness and sadness. I have watched brothers come and go and Mistress herself go through, what seemed at the time, a wild roller coaster ride.

For me, I have faltered in my service at times, have had real life commitments and obligations that have taken me away but always have remained loyal to Her. I have told her that I could never find another that matched my service so well or would I ever want to.

I stand by that statement. I will serve no other and would rather leave D/s all together than break that promise. I have learned a lot about myself, my submission and about submission in general. I owe a lot to Mistress for her patience, giudence and love. I am sure there are times she would have just loved to beat me half to death in fustration, beatings that I well deserved.
That however is not her style. Most lessons have been learned by being allowed to realize my mistake on my own, feeling bad about the error and accepting the correction gracefully. I can not remember a time that she ever raised her voice to me.

Lately she described me as her rock. I did not know what to think of that at the time. After all she has had, sluts, puppets and a kitty yet I am a rock!

I know now that I like that descriptive. I am not into a lot of BDSM nor am I sexually driven. I can enjoy serving that way if Mistress wishes but my method of submission is service and most likely will always be.

My service is to be her rock, her support, quite simply Hers. I am happy, no overjoyed, to serve her in this manner. She has taken me so far in my submission, further than I ever could have imagined. I owe her everything and will continue to serve her for as long as she will have me. I love her and always will.

The Auction By Schinoa Tendaze

The Auction...

Like most 20 something males Tom sat slightly bored on sl trying to find something to entertain him for the evening. Just as he was at the point of losing interest completely and returning to the real world he noticed a message from the Dominion Femdom for an auction taking place in a few hours. He happily filled out the form and watched a movie in ancipation for the auction to start.

After enjoying Quintons latest film, "Inglorious Bastards" very much Tom returned to his computer and realised he was actually now running slightly late for the Auciton. He quickly made his way over got in a box and waited patiently for his moment to be called.

Walking up to the podium , last to be called, Tom was really sure what to expect. He stood there answering their questions. Continually making mistakes and being told off. Things started to change when one of the Domme's recognised his accent and ask specifically where he was from, indicating that she may be close by not just in sl, but in rl. A fresh exciting element of fear entered Tom. Intimate details of desires and interests were now being shared with someone local, rather than someone halfway accross the world that he would never meet or come across rl. The biddings continued and Tom hoped inside that this Mistress would be the winner however another Mistress had the winning bid. The fear past and Tom relaxed, all too soon however as the top bidder had bought him as a gift for the Mistress local! He looked out over all the names trying to find where she was located to make his way over and saw her name in the distance, Destiny.

Upon meeting Miss Destiny he felt instantly submissive to her. Her voice, her commands and wanted to please her. She took him away and set out her rules, collars poses etc all very much what Tom was expecting. However things then changed very quickly with her asking, "Now Tom, my main rule is that you do whatever I ask". "Yes Miss" He replied over voice chat. "Come over now, real life". His stomach clenched up and he froze not knowing what to do or say. She repeated, "Tom, get your arse over here now and I wont ask again". He pleaded verbalising his not expecting her to ask that, unsure of what to do when she cut him off, "Its up to you Tom, you either come here now or find someone else. Follow my rules and you wont regret it." After along pause Tom heard himself saying "Yes Miss, I will come"

After exchanging details Tom sat unsure what to do, shaking at what had just happened. He started getting dressed still unsure whether he was going to go through with it or not. Running it all over in his mind. An excitement was pushing him forward into the unknown, an excitment he couldn't control. He left the house, got in his car, and started to drive.

After a reasonable drive he arrived. Still consumed with questioning whether he should be doing it. He sat in his car looking over at the house he had been directed to. Coming to the conclusion you only live once and odds are it was just going to be a cup of tea and a chat, he got out, walked to the door and knocked.

The door opened and he was greeted by a smile, "Good, you do as you're told, now follow me". Tom entered following her as requested as she led him into the front room. He stuggle to stop looking at her, shocked by her beauty and prowess. She was wearing a leather skirt and a white shirt, heels and stockings. His head was lowered and he was still shaking. Getting into the room she turned to him telling him to take his clothes off and kneel. He paused unsure but she saw his qustioning and stepped closer, being firmer, "FOLLOW MY RULES, GET YOUR CLOTHES OFF, AND KNEEL" As he started to do as he was told she left the room telling him to be ready when she returned.He got undressed quickly, feeling embaressed and exposed, and slightly stupid for thinking it might of just been a cup of tea. He knelt and waited. He waited for a good 5 minutes before she returned.

to be continued

Bedtime Stories By Zaira

I can not remember, even if I really try, a time when I did not read stories at bed time.

Stories which can open another world to our minds, which paint pictures over our thoughts and spin a canvas around our senses. I do not read these stories to children, I read them to her. She is everything.

Each night after dinner I bring her a small glass of wine, usually white. A bath, listening to music or perhaps some television might follow but there is always reading. I follow her guidance as to when I must follow to her room, closing over the door behind myself as I enter and go straight to the corner. She will pass me a book, old books, favourite books or sometimes new books. I love the feel of these books as her pale skin passes them over. Most nights I will glance up, inquisitive as to which look is held in her eyes that evening. There are a number of looks which can be captured with in the deep beauty of her eyes. One says "I am tired, read to me till I sleep", while another says "I am annoyed, you better read perfectly" and I will proceed in my effort to please her, to stumble over even the simplest of words. The look tonight as my fingertips brushed hers claiming the book lifted goosebumps upon my arms, send a shiver though my spine, a burning in my core.. a burning right down there.

Her eyes were clear. I could get lost in her eyes if I dared often to look into them. It scares me to make such eye contact with her for a long time. But those eyes, in a look those eyes can lift my spirits or crush me to the floor, they can hold me close or make me crumble feeling her pain. Tonight her eyes are clear, tonight was one of those nights, the nights I craved among all the others I was permitted to witness.

I took the book from her. In my corner there is to one side a rich, deep chair which I never sit in. My fingers grazed over the cover, shifting it back as the pages rustle under my lightest of touches. I looked up as she sat at the dresser, her back to me. I know from the noises she will be removing the days make up, rubbing moisturiser into her skin, taking out her contacts. She is without a doubt in my head, the most beautiful woman in the world. I do not mean only what the world tells us beauty is, but actual pure beauty.

I began to read, from the top of the page with my index finger following the line of the words. My voice was steady, calm and even as the scene was set and the characters introduced. I could feel her moving around the room, in and out of the small bathroom to the side as I read, shifting on the ground at the end of one page I move to my bottom, and then at the next I return to my knees. This pattern continues as I read, page after page.

When on my knees, kneeling to her my thighs are parted. They are not widely parted but just enough so she could see between them if she cared to look. Sometimes I am higher off my heels and sometimes I can feel them pressing into the flesh of my ass. When I shift at the end of the page my legs are crossed in front, still with my thighs apart. I do not loose pace as I read. She does not like this.

I heard the gush of the water, the friction as she brushed her teeth, the words of the story becoming more erotic as it weaves pictures into my mind, and hers if she happened to be listening still. The water stopped and the door clicked closed. I glanced up as the page turned just as she appeared back into the room.

Women are all beautiful in their own small ways. Some from their eyes, their hair, their breasts or feet. Some seem to radiate a brightness from within them when they enter a room. To me, she is perfect. I adore every inch of her body, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, though her toes are more often kissed than her hair.

As she emerged from the bathroom she wore nothing of any great interest. There were no heels, no boots or fishnets. She wore no leather, latex, lace or corsets. With her hair falling loose around her shoulders she simply wore an old shirt. It clung to the curves around her breasts and fell loose over her hips, skimming the tops of her beautiful thighs just below the curve of her ass. I knew without even being able to see. I could smell the mint from her as she moved onto the chair beside me.

With a snap of her fingertips I glanced up, it was my call to see where she wished me that evening. Even now after all this time, looking up to her like that thrills my entire being, sending a warm flush into my cheeks as her hand guides me around in front of her, turned and bent over the top of her dresser. This end was always kept clear of the various bottles, jars and brushes most dressers are covered in.

My feet spread, clinging to each side so my legs remained parted. It had been made so my hips curled perfectly over the top.. the right height for such a position as my belly pressed against the cold wood I gasped. From here, with my elbows on the dresser I continued to read. My voice now had changed, no matter how I tried to keep it the same I could never read in this position as I did in the other. I did not seem to possess that quality. My words quickened as I waited to see what would come, excitement racing though my veins as I felt the softest of touches, her palm moving down over my thigh from my hip, following the shape to my knee before skimming across and up the inside of the other thigh, reaching forward between my legs with her palm she held it there, flat against me.. waiting for my body to respond.

Once satisfied with my bodies response so far she shifted her hand, her fingertips caressing my skin in a way which is teasingly to her.. yet torturing to me. I read. I read as steady as was possible while she moves, a crop produced as though from no where flicking up and down my thighs, over my ass. I pause when the crop was pressed between my legs, forward.... tonight though it did not land against me, she simply continued rubbing and teasing my skin as her touch had done.

Somewhere in the middle of this, I wondered what the story I was reading was about. I could recall none of it past the first few pages. The words were said but with no connection in my mind to the one before, my senses were filled with touch, scent, excitement. My cheeks burned as I heard the slow whirring sound begin. I know the sound of her vibrator so well and it was quickly followed by the most exquisite sound in the world, the light moans and gasps of her pleasure. I read, not looking and still bent over the end of the dresser as she turned the vibrations on and off, at one point pressing it up the inside of my thighs sending the buzzing sensation though my nerves, able to feel the damp from her skin on mine before it was taken back once more for her pleasure. I read though every inch of me longed to turn, to watch or to help. I read till I heard her release.

At that moment I stopped, turning over the book and placing it down on the dresser to keep the place for another time. I would get no release this evening, but what I got was far more precious to me. I turned and knelt before her. I knew her skin would be flushed, warm and welcoming as she shifted, her body still flushed and pulsing in delight as she placed her thighs around my shoulders. Slowly and tenderly I kissed her skin, tracing up her inner thighs in turn, my hands holding them as she soared in pleasure, then slowly began to return to earth. Only the shortest of kisses was I permitted over her clit, my tongue moving along her lips, over her skin cleaning before she pulled away, her palm pressing my forehead back. It was over in what felt like a heart beat, a breath. I crawled back and placed a kiss lovingly on each foot, my tongue tracing over her toes in thanks.

This sort of evening was more than enough pleasure for me. She placed the vibrator on the end of the dresser and stood, motioning for me to follow to her bed where I was permitted then to sleep, my own body still filled with excitement and denied release. Instead I was allowed to hold her as she slept. To feel the lull as her body relaxed and returned to normal, the safe tangle of fingers and legs as we slept till morning.

I can not remember a time when I did not read bedtime stories, nor do I want to.

mi'kal's song By Silk Arcana

i am: All songs unsung

i am: All tears unshed

i am: All dreams undreamed

i am: All hopes unfilled

i am: The golden bell in the mist

i am: The ice the sun melts

i am: The waters that part

i am: The night the sun burns away

i am: The joy revealed

i am: The home that is found

i am: The clouds wind scattered

i am: The lover's moaning

.i am: The cry in the night

i am: The sheild that shatters

i am: The willow that bends

i am: The shadow on the sky

i am: The echos all hidden

i am: The brightness roaring

i am: The runner running

Developing My Interest in Male Submission By Anon

The story of how I came to be interested in submissive Males is a long one but one of the major turning points was some movies on Television.

In the late eighties there was a show on TV about a Family that was displaced to some sort of Alternative world where Woman were in charge. Males did all the dirty housework and there was a set of rules that governed what They could and could not do.

Also, what was really interesting was that Women could put Their males up for sale if They were disaffected with them. Males could also be sold if they were caught violating the law. If captured by the " Gender Patrol," they would be put in a training program to get Them "pumped up" for the public Auction Block.

Sales were held one a week and the Ladies could see what was coming up for sale in the weekly magazine , " The Male Market."

Their was one delightful scene of a group of High School Girls reading the Magazine and making plans to pool their money and buy one of the Boys in the neighborhood who was being put up for sale ( '...We could share Him!").

This Movie was an obvious reaction to the Feminist movement and Male fears of Woman gaining power. In spite of its flaws this was the first time I was exposed to the idea of a society run by Woman where the Males were made to obey and submit.

There were several other made-forTV movies that got my interest going . Oddly enough they were both made by Gene Roddenbury of STAR TREK fame ( Humm..was little Genie a closet submissive?).

I don't remember the Title of the first movie but it was set several hundred years in the future and the main Character was a Man from our times who was trying to understand this new World.

As he was being taught about this world of the future he was he was told about a society where the Woman ruled and the Men were kept as pets! Then the movie had a shot of an Amazonian Woman who had a naked ( well at least without a shirt) Man who was collared and on a leash that She held. She patted Him on the head and fed Him a tibit.

I LOVED the idea. I use to think about a world where men would be kept a pets. I imaged Them being treated as dogs; kept in Doghouses and kennels, being fed doggie food, undergoing obedience training, being put on a leash and taken for a walk so that They could , "do Their business."

A third movie on TV that drew my attention was another made-for-TV show called , "Planet Earth" ( again by Gene Roddenbury!!). It was a rehash of the above movie but this time the plot centered around the society of Woman . Called the Woman of Ruth ( check your Bible) they captured Males and brought them in on a leash to a " Training Center."

At the center They were examined and the put into a bondage harness ( !) and the facts of Their new life as slaves ("dinks") was careful explained to Them. Then they were taken to a cattle pen and told to, " Keep silent and Your Eyes down." The poor Hero did not do this an the assistant female auction/trainer ran over to Him and lashed him with Her whip (!!!)!

In the pen the hapless Males could be examined by the Woman who had come to the buy at the auction. Taken from the pen They were hauled onto the block where the Auctioneer hawked their virtues ("...this one would make a great breeder"). At one point the Female buyers swarmed on to the block and stripped the shirt off of a slave and ran their hands all over him (!!!!!!!).

This was wild! I began to have a fantasy about having Male slaves at my beck and call, waiting on Me hand and foot and fulfilling My every whim. ( Much like the picture above (which My sweetie little Prettypants found for Me), I though of myself as the Mistress of a a harem of Males slaves.

I had read the book by John Norman that discribed such a world and thought of My fantasy slaves as Silk Slaves. I imaged making Them dress as Harem Slaves and doing all the things that a Slave-girl would be made to do-bathing Me, serving Me food, even dancing for my pleasure under the fear of a whipping for incurring My displeasure.

I imagined that I would employ a Amazon type Woman to be the guard of My Male Harem. She would train and punish Them and when I grew tired of a particular slave She would put a leash on His collar and take Him to the Slave Market and trade Him in for a a new Male slave.

I realize that this pleasant fantasy world of Mine will probably never come true, but I already have one slave, so who knows...?

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Relay For Life Confessions

The Confessions you'll read from March 12, 2011, were for a special Confessions event in support of The American Cancer Society's Relay For Life. The stories are all real.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

RFL: Still A Woman By Jami Titanium

Still a Woman

she sits on the cushioned table
her legs hanging loosely over the side
a paper robe about her shoulders
her arms tucked against her waist
and her chin curled quietly
against her shoulder

her hand strays to touch her breast
and she remembers
the first time he touched her there
with trembling fingers
exploring, teasing, testing boundaries
they had been young
she'd only been nineteen
and she'd arched her back
feeling her pulse swallow itself
against the heat in his palm
before he pushed her shirt
up to her neck
and took her, shivering, into his mouth

she remembers too
the air conditioned maternity room
and the hot august afternoon
where she lay sweating, still panting
as they lay the tiny seven pound bundle
against her chest
the small rooting child moving against her
looking for comfort
and pulling the child closer
the little girl's fingers had clutched
momentarily finding her nipple and tugging
the tingle at the base of her scalp
that pushed to her toes
the pleasure of knowing she was needed
that she was enough

it's strange

that in these two heavy globes
with thin translucent skin stretched over
tiny blue veins that pulse at the surface
and puckering pink buds at the tips
so much of who we are
can be shattered

her fingers splayed gently
she could feel it just under the skin
like hardened gravel beneath stretched silk

they would carve it out

she closed her eyes and imaged the scalpel
the silver cold edge against her skin
scaring the delicate curve of her womanhood
marring the perfect cradle of desire
making her somehow less "whole"

her mother had not lost her hair
but she had been tired
and driving to the treatments
had been more of an ordeal
than the treatments themselves

she wondered if she would die

she pressed her hands flat against her chest

she wondered if she would be a woman
without her breasts

RFL: Three Little Angels By Jade O'Hara

Jennifer, Katrina and Suzanne were three little girls.
I use to call them My angels.

Katrina was a beautiful little girl. She wore glasses over her beautiful blue eyes and her mom always put her hair in Pig tails. she always had a smile on her cute dimpled face. A Tiny petite little thing she was.

Suzanne was more a rough tuff little tom boy. she had Brown hair and pretty Hazel eyes. she was a Fiesty litle one. A tuff cookie. played rough with the boys. and rougher with the girls.
Jennifer was the leader of the pack. she is My baby Domme.
Long Brown hair and brown eyes. and not afraid to tell it like it is, but 100% all girl.

All three were the same age. They were in school together and would go out and play at recess and they each had a big brother which is how they met at a Boy scout meeting.
They always had each other to play with and talk to. these little angels were inseperable.

Katrina started missing a lot of school days over a short period of time. she seemd to be seeing a doctor a lot. or leave school early with head aches.
one of her appointments showed a Tumor in her brain. Everyone was concerned when we heard the news. it was Heart breaking.
She was Diagnosed with Cancer , after several months of Chemo Therapy she was Taken to St Judes Hospital. She was under treatment there for a few more months. When she finally came home, My daughter and Suzanne wanted to go visit their dear friend.

We all met at house and headed over for a quick visit. I explained to the girls that she was very sick and we couldnt stay long. It took a lot of energy just to visit. We showed up at the house just as the Oxygen company was changing out the tank. we came in and the house was filled with Grandparents and other family members. It was very Realistic now for all of us. My eyes looked upon her, there she lay, fraile, weak, pale, very sick and very little hair. I knew it was a matter of time. I held back tears.
The girls seemed ok, although they were very quiet and didnt ask questions. I knew the questions would be asked of me later in the car.
I spoke to her mom and she told me Katrina told her she was tired and just wanted to go home. She was a brave little gilr and knew she was dieing.
we only stayed for 15 minutes and i made up an excuse to leave when I could hear the grandmother crying in the kitchen.
Her fathers eyes were Teary and although her mom had a stern look on her face, I knew deep down inside she was in agony, I was too.

We left the house and the questions began. I tried to answer as much as I could. The girls were quiet now and I knew this was life changing for everyone.

A few days later we got the call, our dear little angel Katrina had gone to Heaven. She passed in her sleep. It was a very difficult time for Suzanne and Jennifer.

A year Later, Suzanne was diagnosed with Cancer too. Jennifer was devastated, worried that she was going to loose her best friend.
It all started again, Missing school, doctors appointments and Chemo. after a few months, of worrying we finally were able to visit Suzanne.
she didnt look Weak, but she did have some hair loss. In no time she was back in school, she wore a cute little Hat and soon was her fiesty self again.

That was 20 years ago. Jennifer and Suzanne are still friends. Suzanne is married and has Three beautiful Angels of her own. Jennifer is Married and has One beautiful Son.
They have get together's and Talk daily on Facebook, They still remember Katrina and miss her dearly.

Katrina's Parents Moved away and live in Montana now. It was very difficult for them to stay in our small town. They are doing better now and have added two children since their little angle went to heaven. I admire their strength and ability to move forward. The loss of a Child is painful and unnatural. although Katrina will never be forgotten, she still lives in our hearts. I can still see her bright little smile.

RFL: For A By Evangeline Eames

My mother died of ovarian cancer when I was 25. For a long time, that was how I described it. I was 25. I was stuck in a child`s mindset, focusing only on her life with me and my pain at losing her. In doing so, I dismissed so much of her life, her life independent of me: hitchhiking across europe as a young woman, a brief romance with a mysterious italian man, nights out at small town Saskatchewan dances while attending nursing school during the day, broken hearts, a successful and meaningful career, a love affair with my father and its subsequent disappointments, and millions of tears, secret smiles, private triumphs and heartbreaks of which I will never know. My mother died of ovarian cancer when she was 54. She had plans for her future, and dreams left to pursue. Nowadays, my tears are for her and for everything she has missed.

For a while my mother had not been feeling well but pushed it aside. She was a registered nurse and fell prone to the bad habit most medical professionals have of diagnosing themselves. She had a variety of reasons for the pains she was having: it was stress, it was indigestion, it was menopause. But eventually her stomach distended so much and the pain was so intense she had to make an appointment to see a doctor. Tests were done and it was decided that exploratory surgery was the only way to determine the problem. The night before our family doctor comforted us and said, "It's not cancer. Cancer doesn't present like this". We clung to those words, desperately wanting to believe them. He was wrong. When they opened my mother up they found her so riddled with cancer that nothing could be done but drain off some fluid and close her up again. There was no chance for a cure. Now it was just, 'how long'. And that was a question to which no one had an answer.

Immediately my mother turned her attention to comforting us. Like many mothers, she was the cornerstone of our family. We took her for granted, and it broke my heart that in the flurry of grief and love that poured out at her diagnosis, she said, "I've never felt more loved'. I think back on that statement often, and feel ashamed that it was only in those circumstances that I told herhow important she was to me. These are the things I think about when people say they have no regrets in life. I have a million regrets and so many swirl around her. I should have done more, spent more time, helped more, listened more. It's a burden I'll always carry, like stones hanging around my neck. But the burden is a gift as well, reminding me to be try and be better, be kinder, to be more forgiving, to be more like her.

We were fortunate enough to live just outside a big city with world class care. One of us could take mom in to the clinic in the morning, stay a few hours while she received her treatment and go home for the night. During one visit my mother introduced me to a young woman who was sharing a room with her. They had become friends over the weeks of treatment. Sitting next to this young woman's bed were her two small children, no older than 5 or 6, and a pleasant looking young man who was obviously her husband. Afterwards my mother said that this woman's friendship had helped her deal with her own feelings of self-pity. "They have to travel four hours every day for her treatment. She's dying and she hasn't even raised her kids. I'm lucky. My family is grown and I've had a whole life already." It speaks to what a remarkable woman my mother was, able to feel grateful even in the midst of a brutal treatment.

Mom battled cancer for two years. The doctors had guessed she'd live a few months but my mother was valiant. During those two years we had many important discussions about life, for which I am enternally grateful. One of these discussions was on the existence of the soul. My mother knew that I had very loudly and arrogantly disavowed god and religion as a teenager and she seemed somewhat affectionately amused by it (I didn't understand then how often older people are amused by the black and white absolutes with which young people view life). During one of these discussions we talked about her training as a nurse with The Grey Nuns in Winnipeg and how one day they had explained to her scientifcally that the soul exists. She couldn't remember the exact details but it had to do with the energy measured in the body and the indesputable fact that energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed. The idea that some little spark of my mother's would somehow continue on is a comfort to this still confirmed atheist, even if its only a little blip of energy. When out walking, sometimes I think I feel it dancing along beside me. Yesterday, the sun hit the snow at such an angle that it was alight with tiny little glimmering lights and I thought of her. Life is not as black and white as it used to be.

The night before my mother died I went to bed early. I suppose we all knew on some level that she was dying but held out hope that she would come home again, as she had after other bad spells. As I laid there trying to sleep I was overcome by a feeling: 'get up, go to the hospital'. To this day I can't explain it. In the middle of the night I got out of my bed, got dressed, and drove to see my mother for the last time. She was sleeping. I leaned over her and whispered in her ear. I told her how much I loved her, how lucky I was that she had been my mother, and so many other things too private and precious to repeat. She smiled in her sleep, a smile which has been replayed in my mind a million times, a final gift.

My mother died on a sunny September morning just before 11 am. My father and my siblings were all there as she passed away. They joined hands around her bed and sang 'You Are My Sunshine' to her as she died. I had driven back home, two hours away, to take care of some issues with my business and planned to return the next day. My brother called me and said the words. I didn't cry but instead felt an overwhelming sense of relief. The torture, the agony for all of us was finally over. The tears came later, when I wrapped her in her favourite shawl, helped my sister put her in a new nightgown, and watched my family fill her coffin with secret notes, photos, talismen. Death makes people superstitious. A way to cope I suppose.

As I get older I sometimes feel like I am travelling down a long road, one on which my mother stopped by the wayside. Just when I feel she is becoming too distant and I have lost her, she permiates my life again, with a sound, a smell, a memory. Maybe its that little spark of energy dancing around me again. Now I know why old people like to speak the names of the dead. It makes them part of our here and now, keeps them alive in our lives. My mother is indisputably a part of me. She's the best part of me. Some day, all of our names will be forgotten, no one will tell our stories anymore or remember our deeds, good or bad. But we were here. She was here. And I speak her name like a prayer.

RFL: Maria By Zaira Miles

Cancer can hit anyone.

Like most things in life, it is kept hidden from children when ever and how ever possible

My best friend lived two doors down from me, she was in the year above me at school.

We went to different schools but had pictures taken together on the first day each year

At some point, I remember starting to go see her in hospital. I went up with her step dad in the car, he drove so fast and I clung on to the door the whole way there

We built boxes out of lolly pop sticks, we watched movies, had races in the corridor in wheel chairs.

I remember watching while they changed the bags, giving her blood among a range of clear fluids which I had no idea what it was, the blood I recognised.

She went into remission and we had birthday parties.

I picked the cases off the nuts at halloween she wanted which I didn't like

She told me, Santa was not real

We raised money for the hospital, for her to go to Disney land.

I brought up a teddy bear, they were really popular.. forever friends

She came to the Christmas panto with my class, in my school because she'd had a chemo session when her class went

I watched her do her first holy communion, and was jealous of bike she bought from the money she was given... I wouldn't have a communion.

She always seemed to have a line in her arm, covered with a bandage, or cotton to stop the nose bleeds

We played outside on bikes

We watched the bands on the 12th of July in town, throwing sticks and waving flags

She came up to my house, with her bother and we coloured in because she was too tired to go out

On the 18th my mum woke me, and told me she had died over night.

I didn't cry.

I watched with other kids on the street from my door step as they carried a coffin into her house, it looked pink in the sunlight.

It was actually white.

I couldn't decide what to put on the flowers, but knew they were to be pink and white.

I watched as my mum told the ice cream van not to come into the court for a few days, not to play music

I was taken up to see her, I remember being stunned by all the crying.

She looked the same as always, at peace.

Her class stood, a guard of honor in their summer holidays as the funeral passed

She was diagnosed aged 4 with leukaemia and died aged 11.

I cried in September, when my sister had a song playing in which a child died.

I cried every time I watched My Girl, and her friend died.

Every time I heard the name Maria, I thought of her. I tried not to say it, ever.

Each land mark point in my life I wondered, what she would be like at it. Would we still be friends?

At the end of it, it didn't really matter. She stayed my best friend.

RFL Confession By Jerbo Toxx

From Jerbo Toxx

I saw the notice on the request for confessions for Relay for Life, and wish to share my story. Please pass this on to Miss Zarita? You may use my name.

Hopefully this can be shared Miss, and if anyone has any questions about my particular cancer, let them know they can always contact me through my email address in my profile.

--- From a survivor ---

Many of you know I am a bilateral amputee (below the knee.) What some of you may not know is I am also a cancer survivor.

My story starts about 7 years ago. I, like many others took my health for granted.

In this instance I was helping my wife as we planned to attend our sons wedding. He and his future bride were getting married in Las Vegas and we were all excited to attend.

I first noticed the lump on my neck around this time, but did not think much about it. However, I count myself lucky in that I had a visible sign of this illness. Most do not until it is almost too late. However, like most of us, I ignored it at first, thinking that i t was just an inflammation of some sort. In fact after about a week, I went to the doctors to get it checked out and he suspected that it was an infection and prescribed antibiotics.

Naturally, after my weeks treatment, the swelling did not go down and in fact increased in size. However, I was excited to attend my sons wedding and still ignored it further. Well, we went to the wedding and then my wife began to express her concern about the swelling. It was now noticeable to anyone, and looked like I had the mumps (on one side of my face.) So I agreed to get checked as soon as I returned.

Well, the wedding was wonderful and on arrival back home I went back and the doctor said he needed to send me to an Ear Nose and Throat (ENT) specialist. The ENT doctor scheduled me for a biopsy, which is to take a piece of the tissue and make a determination. Naturally my adrenalin was starting to work, and the big "C" word was beginning to form in my head.

I was prepped and the procedure would be done under a general anesthesia. It was simple enough, they would remove a small part of my lymph node (where the swelling was determined to be,) and then diagnose if there was anything wrong. Results would be available in a couple of days.

What a long couple of days. Sitting, and waiting, fearing what may be. Would it be Cancer? Would it be treatable? Only time would tell.

Well, finally the doctor called and said to come into the office to discuss the results. Naturally I asked, but he said I had to come in for the results. Turns out he does that for all results (good or bad.) Anyway, we arrived and he came in and said it WAS Cancer. Non-Hodgkin large B-Cell lymphoma. Naturally I was awash with all kinds of emotions and questions. Immediately I asked if I could have a copy of the results sent to my primary care doctor at the Veterans Administration Hospital. Being a Veteran, my next thought is how to pay for any treatment. And hoping that the VA would help provide treatment or at least suggest a good doctor.

I called my doctor at the VA and informed him I had results from the biopsy, and if he could see if I could get treatment there. He had me FAX the information to him and said he would call me back. Well, again I braced myself to wait a few days knowing that the doctor may be busy with other patients. But surprisingly, he called back the next morning and said he sent a referral over to Oncology, and they would be calling me to come in for testing. He said it may take a day or two depending on their schedule. I hung up, and told the wife that I could be seen by the VA, and no more than ten minutes later the phone rang.

"Hello, this is the Oncology department, and we want you to come in tomorrow morning to be admitted for testing, and treatment.", she said. I was flabbergasted. So after talking a bit more to make arrangements, I was there the next day. They wanted to do a full workup on me. Blood work, checking for the specific type of cancer, and also my general health. Also, they wanted to schedule me for a bone marrow biopsy. Not the most pleasant procedure. I will spare you the details, but if your into S&M, I can share it with you later......grins.

After all the results were in, the determined the course of treatment would be chemotherapy. This particular treatment was called CHOP-R, which is a concoction of five different medications and IV fluids given to kill the cancer cells. Chemo works by actually trying to kill fast dividing cells in the body (which is what cancer is.) And it also in most cases reduces your immune system so that you have difficulty in fighting off infection.

Anyway, from the time they admitted me, to the time of my first treatment was just under a week. And that is pretty fast I hear. I don't remember all the chemicals that pumped into me save one. the "R" in CHOP-R, was called Rituximab (or as I call it, Rituxin). This I feel was the 'magic bullet" for my type of cancer. Don;t get me wrong, this chemical has a serious side effect and is deadly in its own right. (If you want to know more, you can visit the following web site:

Now, by this time the swelling on my neck was about the size of a baseball, and hard to the touch. When they started the IV drip for Rituxin, they start out slow and then increase the dosages every half hour. It takes about 8 hours to infuse it all. About half way up to full dosage, I started to experience severe itching, and then a rash all over my body. They stopped the treatment and then notified the doctor, who then had them restart the dosage just below where I started to experience symptoms. This increased the time to over 16 hours for the complete series to be given. It seems this is the main reason they start low and increase over time.

But you ask, how did I feel? What was going through my mind? Well, naturally fear. Knowing it was a fatal disease, and not knowing how long I may have to live. Fortunately, the doctor treating me taught at the local university and was one of the top doctors in his field. But, I was touched my my own mortality on that day I learned I had cancer. And that is why I embrace each day now. And even though the doctor said the treatment may seem to be a cure, you are never assures that you have it all.

Anyway, after my first round of chemotherapy, they kept me for a few more days for observation. Remarkably, the following day after treatment, we noticed the hardness to the lump was softer. After a couple of days it was very soft. In a few more days we noticed the lump shrinking. In less than two weeks, the swelling had gone down completely and there was no sign of it!

I completed 7 more rounds of chemotherapy once every three weeks. About half way through my treatments, my Cat Scans showed no traces of cancer (which was also in my torso and groin.) And I have been cancer free for the last 6 years.

Sadly, the week of my last treatment and finding out I was in remission, my wifes best friends husband found out he had cancer of the bone. And even after all the chemo and treatments he lost his battle just last year. He fought for five years, when they gave him only two to three.

It goes to show that we must embrace life to the fullest and love those around us with all our heart. And that is why I can say to all of you......I Love you.