Saturday, May 28, 2011

Untasted By Lady Scuri


So tempting
quite unrelenting
right within reach the very beaches of paradise

An urge there in *my* head

there's just no telling
what would take place if I buried my face...

And my heart, it just races

oh god am I drooling?
there under the fabric what makes me ecstatic

Makes me tingle in places

I can hear my blood pouring
please uncross your thighs and reveal to my eyes

Fingers shaking, breath bated

it's either that or be swooning
my fingers on skin I'm committing a sin

My caution e-rase-ed

>SFX: Audible SLAP!<


Opportunity wasted

A Boy's Confession By Anonymous

A boy’s confession to ...

I remember the first time I saw you at the courtyard at the Dominion, and instantly I was struck by your distinct style and the way you carried yourself. I thought your style of dress was very elegant, and thought you were a woman that carried herself with such grace as well, and was quick to give a kind word or help a new sub. I can still remember the first time I heard you talk and sat there, hanging on your words, catching myself at times falling into a schoolboy crush and wanting to know more about you, and to just be around you.

Finally, that chance opportunity occurred and I was able to meet with you one on one, and share a moment. That night we talked about so much, our sl experiences, D/s, our rl’s, our families, sharing the hardships we have endured, talking about ones we have lost, but laughing as well, and laughing a lot! Somehow you forced me to sing for you, (okay, forced might be an exaggeration, by that point I wanted to sing for you, but I couldn’t let you know you had me wrapped around your finger), and just spending time together. It was such a magical night for me, to be with you, to hear you, to make you laugh, to hear the smile in your voice. I can’t deny the connection I felt that night, it was so utterly natural, to be close to you, like a feeling of coming home. I told myself, don’t rush, patience boy, but I knew. I KNEW that you were someone that I wanted to get to know better, and to see what may be down the road. By this time, it had already turned past midnight and it was nearly 5 AM on Easter morning, and here we were, six hours after we had started talking, sitting on ginormous bunnies and getting the best present the Easter Bunny had ever brought me, time with you.

As time has continued we have talked, I have gotten to know more about you, as a friend, a woman, and as a Miss. I know that you are a strong woman, stronger then I imagined, and far stronger then I am. Many times I want to rush, and pursue this powerful feeling, this connection. But you have been strong for us both, slowing me down, when I even know this is the best route to take, my heart wants so badly to be yours, you tell me “patience boy”, and I know you are right. We have also talked about your real life challenges and with those too, you have been far stronger then I, meeting them head on and dealing with them. I admire you so much for this and all you have done, even with the fear of the unknown; you did what was the right thing, and that takes some amazing courage.

As a friend, the easy back and forth we share, to just say anything that comes to mind, and giving me the ability to do so without being judged or rejected. It gives me the courage to just say anything and know that it I am safe to do so. We also share an incredible amount of time laughing and just being silly, or better put, I am incredibly silly and you laugh at me at lot. This will come as no surprise I am guessing, but I love to make you laugh, to hear you smile. I love being able to give you that. I also enjoy my time to sit with you, and quietly talk about our days, what’s going on in our worlds, and just be with you, to feel that closeness.

As a Miss, well, it has come surprisingly easy to submit to you and with a word, you know what button you can push, to drop me down, and take me to that place. I think back to that Miss, the kind, quiet woman I first met at the Dominion, and I have to smile at the Miss I am getting to know. The Lady I know now is full of surprises, and one that fingers my mind with her soft gentle ways, not with brute force, and is able to move me into the most blissful subspace so easily and quickly. I love that you can do that to me, I love when you put me in that place. I feel it, and I close my eyes, and all I hear is your voice, your direction, guiding me and taking me even deeper. I can’t count the times now I have found myself closing my eyes at the moment you take me deep, my heart racing, my own breaths short and panting, barely able to let a single “oh” escape my lips. Its moments like this, I can’t but feel the desperate longing to be yours, to want more, to want it all, feeling these feelings coming more franticly, feeling the first time you slip that collar around my neck, feeling the tug of your leash, feeling the soft caress of your hand on my cheek, imaging the first time I hear you say “my boy”, feeling completely utterly yours and feeling my submission running over me and getting the best of my emotions, this normally chatty boy, reduced to panting, barely able to get more than a few “oh’s” out, as with each of your words, you take me deeper into subspace, feeling the tears well up, crying more times than I would care to admit, how desperate I am in this moment to be Yours, submitting to you completely, dropping all of my defenses and letting you in unfettered into my soul, my mind, my heart. It’s in this moment, I want to crawl in on all four’s to your feet, and curl up at them, wrapping my figure around them, and lay in the safety of Your presence.

Do you feel me?

Do you feel my desire?

Do you feel my longing?

My complete and utter submission?

Can you see into my eyes even now as I write this? Tears welling up in my eyes, feeling such a mix of emotions. Such happiness to have found you, greedy to be with you, such raw emotions when I drop all my defenses and let you in completely, and let myself feel the longing to be at your side, to be Yours.

The words coming so fast as I write this now, and I can barely compose my thoughts or emotions, letting them flow, as you have asked me to be: always open and honest, boy.

I don’t know what else to say,Miss, other then I want to serve you, to be Yours: your friend, companion, your silly boy, your confidante, your slut, but more simply, I just want to be: Yours.

Working Away Part 1 By Zaira

*Saturday Night*
A sharp hissing noise whipped though the air and Leah clenched her butt cheeks tightly, anticipating the impact which would follow. The contact never came. As she held her breath she was startled to feel the cool sensation of lube pressed between her parted thighs from behind from a single fingertip, as it slid smoothly along the edge of her lips, then pressed between them to find her clit. A shaken moan slipped from her body.

It was so soft, light and seemed to linger around Leah’s body in a teasing and tortuous manner. She kept her chin down but couldn’t help her pale blue eyes from flicking up towards Erin. Leah had no idea why when Erin’s breath seemed to intrigue her so much. Even though she had been watching Erin, Leah jumped visibly when she slammed a pile of thick, brown files onto her desk.

“I hope you don’t have weekend plans, we’re going to London,” Erin shot in her direction before turning sharply and striding around the cluster of desks to her own. It was Leah’s turn now to let out a sigh of disgust. She did have weekend plans, plans she had been looking forward to for weeks.

Between the two of them, even though their job titles were equal, Erin was in charge. This did not impress Leah though she couldn’t seem to put her finger on why she had this impression, or where the feeling came from. She had bored her room mates with it on more than one occasion with the usual “It’s the way she looks at me, who does she think she is!” coming out in a higher pitch than her usual softly spoken tone.

Leah waited now for Erin to offer the rest of the information which would surely come, drumming the pen between her finger and thumb against the desk. After a few moments of silence Leah exclaimed “I do have plans, It’s my room mates birthday, spa, dinner and drinks. I can’t miss that, she will kill me!”

Leah might have been exaggerating it a little for impact but it caused Erin to look up from behind her computer screen. “Our flight is at 7.15 tomorrow morning. I’ll meet you at 6.30 inside the entrance hall,” then after a short pause for breath Erin added with a slight smirk in her voice “Don’t bother buying my coffee outside, I won’t be able to carry it though security,” before turning back to her screen.

Leah ground her teeth together as her cheeks flamed slightly. This was exactly the sort of thing which made her feel just a little lower, even though she got the coffees in the morning and Erin brought the drinks at their evening meetings, Leah always felt her side of the arrangement was just, lower. Refusing to speak further to Erin, Leah spun her chair around and clicked fiercely on her mouse, opening her emails to find as she expected, the information on the weekend she was not getting verbally from Erin. Skimming the list she began to make notes in her head on what clothing she would need, what was in her pile of washing and what she would tell her room mate to get out of her birthday.

Erin turned around at her desk, pulling one of the files from between them and opening it. She glanced towards Leah as she did so and though it would have been hard to tell, a smile lifted the corners of her lips. In Erin’s mind, Leah was fairly clueless, boring, straight and worst of all, vanilla. These character traits amused her, even though it occurred to her that she also appeared to be all of these things in the office. She did not suppose her boss, who already felt architects were better if they were men and unattached to the use of the building, unlike women who “moved themselves in as they designed” would appreciate knowing either her sexual orientation or her kinky desires, though her dominant nature tended to shine though everything. Erin had her own plans, after their afternoon meeting she would head out. They had no evening work plans, but Sunday flights were cheaper than Saturday night and Erin did not plan on wasting her evening in London by sitting in with Leah. London had all sorts of clubs which their small town, and even the nearest city did not. She lived pretty hidden in her choices, and the trip to London now and then gave Erin the chance to change that for the night.

As Leah lay in bed that night, tossing and turning she struggled to get to sleep. Erin was in her head. Erin was often trapped in Leah’s head lately. They had worked in the same office for about two years, but only three months ago a number of staff were paid off, and a shuffle of partners occurred. Before then Leah only knew Erin by reputation. She lived for her job, had no husband and no children but as the rumour went, plenty of one night stands. As Leah lay on her back her mind drifted back towards Erin. She could understand why Erin was able to have one night stands. Erin was the very picture of an attractive woman. Her dark hair was cut close to her collar and always styled well, her make up if she actually wore any was flawless and subtle and her body, her body was perfect in Leah’s opinion. “I envy it,” flicked across Leah’s thoughts as she turned onto her stomach and stretched her arms towards the sides of her bed.

A couple of minutes later Leah was startled as her phone buzzed, reaching out with her eyes closed she flicked open the screen before sitting up and reading the text which had appeared, “Looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow night and maybe some fun, E.” E was Erin, it was Erin’s number at the bottom but there had been nothing on the plans for Saturday night and what did she mean “again”. Leah read over the message once more then placed her phone on the side before sleeping.

Erin was still awake. She didn’t sleep well before travelling and was looking forward to the following evenings activities. Taking care with how she packed, knowing she was taking only carry on luggage she placed the detailed red corset, garter, stockings, strap on, and harness into the centre of her bag, then carefully wrapped a couple of tops over it before pulling the zip sharply around and securing a small lock.

Dancing Confessions By Lady Livinlifeonwheels

An SL Dance

I see you across the dance floor and for whatever reason you catch my eye and I find myself watching you more and more. I look at your profile, and according to my arbitrary “rules” you interest me. Not too young; Not a Noobie; your avatar has had a lot of work done… These thoughts seem frivolous but they are in fact how I make a first assessment of you. We strike up a conversation and as we do I am even more impressed you are intelligent articulate and your sense of humour is apparent immediately. And so the dance begins….

Yes, I mean that both literally and figuratively. As we dance we chat about SL first, then on to more personal topics. As we chat I tell you that I am unable to separate SL and RL, since I am one and the same. As my profile loudly proclaims: “Honesty and integrity are everything to me.” I say. You agree and even go a few steps further and tell me of stories riddled with lies and deceit. “That’s not right!” we both agree. In SL you are a DJ and I can hear your voice light up as you talk about the people you have met. It turns out you have come to SL to live out an unfulfilled RL dream. “I played in a band when I was younger but we never made it big and so now I DJ here.” I nod and laugh. Although we are light hearted I can now hear an underlying truth and personal sadness that I can relate to. If my RL were perfect I probably wouldn’t spend so much time here myself. I pride myself on being an open and non-judgemental person and one of my personal mantras is “Live and let Live” . So while part of me is tempted to tell you that we only live once and life is too short, you “should” get out into the real world, I say nothing. After all am I not sitting behind an identical computer doing the same thing you are? Another of my personal truths is, “when I am tempted to judge I need not look any further than the mirror”.

Silently I chastise myself. “You always take things too seriously and over analyze things. This is supposed to be fun, go with the flow.” And so I do. We dance in the moment, back to SL and the trivial until you type “Be right back, real life moment.” When you return you tell me that your RL wife needed help bringing in the groceries but that she is now heading out again so you are not likely to be interrupted again. My heart sinks because a RL wife complicates things. A million thoughts and questions spring to mind immediately. Does she know? Are you happy? Do you play SL together? Then I realize I have got ahead of myself. There is no reason for me to be concerned with your RL situation, after all, we’ve just met and are only dancing and chatting. Or is there?

My conscience in in full swing again and I must admit at this moment my concern is not with you or us, if there is even an “us” but with those arbitrary “rules” I log into SL with every day. Coming up to my first SL birthday, those rules have changed many times. At first it was just a “game”, a way to fill my time when I was too sick to leave my home and it was better than staring at the television but today I keep coming back for the people and the friends I have made. This “marriage” issue I have never fully resolved for myself, let alone how it relates to you. First, it was only a game, therefore not real so not even an issue. Later after I learned my avatar doesn’t have emotions but I do, and I swore it was not for me. Finally, to in essence, nullifying the issue with the thought of dealing with the issue if and when it arises.

But wait, I have been lost in my thoughts only to come back and see you in my IM’s, “Are you there, Hello?” I come back to the moment and put the whole issue on the back burner because I know I will not solve it right now and even if I think I may have, tomorrow will have another set of “rules”. I am not proud of this seemingly flexible moral standard, after all where is my integrity now?

I add you to my friends list and that first dance leads to an afternoon of dancing, chatting and yes, flirting. Again that little voice inside my head speaks her concerns. I hear them but unsure of almost everything I silence it. My rational mind also says, we have done nothing but chat and there has been no “sex” so it’s ok. So, we continue our dance…

Dancing, we continue dancing, in and out of RL and SL. Weeks turn into months and you are now in my “top 5 friends” and we have laughed and cried over our pixelated avi’s and our RL problems. I believe I know you the “real” you behind the avatar. I know your RL name and the names of your wife and your children. I also know you have an SL partner that is not your wife. I choose you as a friend and apply my “live and let live” motto to your moral dilemmas. I am not the moral police and with my flexible “rules”, I have enough of my own.

Together we dance.

Talking, sharing, debating and loving. Yes, I love you now. Not a romantic love, but a love born of great affection, caring and mutual support. You are having problems with your SL love and we talk about the “right” thing to do but never come to any firm conclusions because for every rule we create there is always an exception. Throughout it all there is within us I sense, a need to hold ourselves accountable and not hurt anyone intentionally. I say intentionally because we hurt people all the time even when we have their well-being in the front of our minds.

I can feel your pain; you too wear your heart on your sleeve. I want to make you smile and so I make silly jokes, and poke fun at our “soap opera’s”. I dance with you again at one of your gigs. We flirt; you finally confess to me that you want to create an Alt to have an extra-marital affair on your current SL wife. I come down on you hard. “That is wrong.” I tell you,“ you need to be open and honest about it to her and if you can both agree on the terms of the relationship then fine. If not you need to end it with her before moving on”. Honesty and Integrity mean everything to me, but have I completely forgotten about the first life wife? Where is my integrity now?

We have crossed many boundaries time and time again, as we did yesterday and surely will tomorrow. There still has been “no sex” so that line remains intact, but after my confession that I do in fact love you, that surely points to an emotional attachment of some kind. As I try to rationalize my actions with those imaginary “rules”, I am at a loss. In order to condone my actions I can argue it is nothing more than a friendship, no different than any other. Yet, if I am true to myself, I know in fact the friendship we have created in this three dimensional world is so much more; Even if it cannot be easily categorized.

And so in the end, I will first try to be honest with myself and then as honest with you as I can but if those “rules” seem to change with the weather remember there is indeed a real person behind this avatar. Where I end and my avatar begins and just how she is going to interact with your avatar and you is complicated and something I can only contemplate yet not quite define.

Speed Dating By Heather Steampunk

Speed dating. Why on earth did I agree to do this? It is absolutely horrible. I am surrounded by utterly boring people. “If you had to compare yourself to a dog, what kind of dog would you be?” I choke. A dog? You are asking me what kind of drooling hairy beast I would be? “A Labrador.” I hate myself for not having to think about the answer. It is obvious. Labradors are cute and loyal, they are like me. It doesn’t matter how many times you kick it, it will always come back crawling with its tail between it legs begging for forgiveness, even when they did nothing wrong. I look at the clock, thirty more minutes of pure hell. Speed dating, what was I thinking?

I ask the woman sitting opposite of me what kind of dog she would be. If she can ask the question, surely she will be able to answer it. Her story bores me, I should feel bad. I cannot even pay attention to her for ten minutes. She rambles about being a Rottweiler. Great. Just what I need. Another bitch on fulltime PMS.

I let my eyes wander through the room. So far, I have not written one name down, that I would like to get to know better. They are either too narcissistic or too naïve to understand the ‘fine’ art of speed dating. Truth be told, I don’t understand it either, I shouldn’t be here. My friend dragged me along, said I needed to get out more. I disagreed. I was perfectly content with being in my apartment, blinds closed and television on, feeling miserable.

The buzzer zooms. Thank god. Moving on. Twenty more minutes. “Hello, my name is Rachel.” I want to bang my head against the table. I do not ever want another Rachel in my life. “Hello Rachel” Silence. I am done with dragging information out of them. More silence. Complete silence. This is awkward and uncomfortable. “Excuse me Rachel, I wish you the best of luck in your quest, but I am not the one for you.” She looks confused. Poor woman, I probably just shattered her speed dating illusion. Oh well, she will get over it. I walk towards the bar and order a double vodka.

“Rough day troublemaker?” I sigh. Please, just back off, leave me alone. I am done with speed dating, I am not sitting at a table, why won’t people just leave me alone? “You could say that, yes.” I feel rude, I probably am rude. “I’m sorry to hear that, can I offer you another drink?” I ponder a while on how to let her down without hurting her feelings. Would she be hurt? Is she bored with speed dating as well? My head moves in her direction, but the moment I lay my eyes on her I know I am in trouble, deep trouble. Her eyes are blue as an Hawaii ocean, although I have never seen one, but I can imagine the ocean being as blue as her eyes. I stutter words that she by the look of her face doesn’t understand. “A drink, yes, please, that would be nice.” She chuckles. “Not much into speed dating huh?” I nod although I am starting to appreciate a bit more at the moment. I slam the vodka down my throat and cough from the fire burning deep down.
I shouldn’t drink vodka. Vodka makes me talk. Darn vodka. We talk, her and I. About speed dating, she mostly talks and I listen. Her voice is soothing, more soothing than any bottle of vodka could be. I am in deep, deep trouble.

“Tell me, what was the weirdest question you were asked today?” She looks sincerely interested, she’s gorgeous, I have a hard time focusing on what she says. Damn women. I stutter again. “Dog.” She looks puzzled. “Dog? You will have to elaborate on that!” I smile. “If I had to compare myself to a dog, what kind of dog would I be.” She laughs. “That’s an easy one for me. A Labrador.” I look at her, unable to look away. She’s a Labrador. I am in deep, deep trouble.

We walk outside to smoke a cigarette. Two cigarettes. Three cigarettes. I am smitten, but I can’t be smitten. I don’t know her. This is what I do, I fall for people that I hardly know, yet it feels like I have known her forever. This won’t end well, I’ll end up getting hurt. My heart will end up shattered, on a silver platter, like it has been many times before. I have known this woman for maybe three hours and I already trust her. This is wrong.

She seems sweet, caring, loving and loyal. She possesses all those Labrador qualities. I feel drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, unable to stay away, even when knowing the flame might be dangerous. She is fire. She scares me, but I want to be close to her, she is entertaining. I already dread the moment she will go home. It’s terrible. I am falling for her, deeply.
“Come dance with me.” It’s not a question and I chuckle. I’d love to dance with her, but I don’t dance. I step on feet. I make people growl and grumble and ditch me for another dance partner that won’t make their feet bruise within the first five minutes. She takes my hand and guides me to the dance floor. Oh god. This is not going to end well. She pulls me closer, she sure is persistent, I have got to give her that. We dance, so far so good. I feel dizzy in her arms. She’s beautiful, her long curls draping over her shoulders. She’s so gracious and I feel like Pinocchio. She whispers something in my ear but I cannot hear her over the music. I don’t know whether to nod or to just be silent. My eyes lock on her fingers as they move towards my face and stroke my hair back. This time I hear her clearly, she’s so close, I can smell her perfume. She smells define. I should have worn something, god I’m such a loser sometimes. I feel like I went from a grown Labrador to a puppy. I am in deep, deep trouble, but god it feels good.

The music changes to a fast song, but she doesn’t change her rhythm, it confuses me. She moves in fast, within me, my heart and my soul. I grin. I don’t even know her name. This is utterly ridiculous.

My thoughts are here, there and everywhere. I cannot dance and not think. I think 24/7. It’s part of who I am. I think too long and too much, I should focus on dancing but I’m scared when I do, I will step on her feet, I’m surprised I haven’t so far.

She’s tall, taller than me, I have to look up at her to look into her eyes, but I don’t dare to do so, her eyes are enchanting. They feel like magic. Who knows, maybe she’s a witch and perhaps I am under her spell, all I know is that this feels good, this feels right.

The perfect moment gets ruined by a man who yells on an intercom that the speed dating has officially ended and the club will close for the day. This is the moment I dreaded. It took longer than I had expected. The lights pop on and we’re surrounded by bright light, what a downer to end the day with. The magic had ended, or has it? She grabs my hand again and pulls me through the crowd of people. I walk by Rachel, who still looks as confused as before. Poor woman.

We stand outside, smoking another cigarette. She doesn’t talk and I don’t know what to say. What do you tell a complete stranger? “Hey, I like you, don’t go away?” That will make her run .. fast. I try to find the right words while lurking on my cigarette. No words seem to fit, thankfully, she speaks first. “This was fun, we should do it again.” Yes. Yes, we should. Right now, let’s do it again. I nod instead. I am scared to push her away. I am scared to scare her off. “Hm, are you shy or are you trying to get rid of me?” I look up in those ever tantalizing eyes and whisper, “No, was just wondering what your name is.” She smiles as her hand cups my cheek. “You.. may call me Lady Cera and I will call you whatever pleases me.” I smile for I know, I am in deep, deep trouble, but trouble has never felt so right before.

Mistress In His Thoughts By Anonymous

Anonymous Mistress in his thoughts

He thinks for her far too often than he should. She has given him pictures of her, nothing naughty, they didn’t have to be. Her beautiful face, eyes, and smile was all he needed to keep thinking of her but her voice, oh her voice. He hears it in his dreams when he can’t hear it here. A warm feeling runs through him and smile comes to his face every time he hears her. He wants her in the worst way, to be hers, to kneel at her feet and stand by her side but she is out of his reach not available but he waits. He’ll wait for when she can be and when that time comes he hopes she will have him. He takes in a deep breath and leans back, closes his eyes, and sees and hears her.

You By Lady Cera

I have taken
what you offered
The love in your heart
The longing in your soul
The gentlness in your
The smile in your eyes
The laughter in your voice
I hold them in my heart
Safe from sorrow
Safe from pain
Safe from your words
Although you are
physically gone
You are still
with me
Although I will no longer
kiss the sweetness of your
or taste the essense of your
I will hold you
in my soul
I will close my eyes
and feel you near
I will inhale a
flower and smell you
I will taste sweetness
and savor you......
and I will
love you..

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Mint Julep Or How NOT To Meet A Domme By Lady Zarita

I forgot
I had a profile on collarme from many years ago.. dormant. Out of the blue I received t a polite message from a submissive in my town. He seemed polite so we messaged then I gave him my messenger address to chat.

We chatted for a few days and he was very keen if rather green ... so I decided to meet him..

I told him exactly where I wanted to meet him in a particular bar .. then texted him 15 minutes before I arrived telling him to order me a Mint Julep. I had also previously told him he had to dress up to meet me.

I arrived in all my finery and I look down the rather luxurious bar and see a guy .. a very BIG guy .. sitting in one of the red wingbacked chairs. He was wearing jeans and a tshirt! I thought.. oh that's not him.. till my eyes trailed down to the table in front of him .. and there it was ..a Mint Julep . . wellll *deep breath* ..that *IS him.. He spotted me and smiled a little .. Ok I am firm believer in looks are no everything.. he may well have a winning personality.

I then sat down to begin and excrutiating 20 minutes of "conversation" with myself.

Hello Miss.. you look lovely.
Your boot are amazing Miss.

Thanks M .. and how are you?
tick tick tick
sip sip

Fine Miss *keeps staring at boots then looks up distractedly at passing woman totally checking her out"
So what are your interests?
Don't know

Tick tick tick

Sip sip

No matter what the question... I asked him. for the next 20 minutes all he answered was Yes Miss, No Miss, Fine Miss.. your boot are great Miss. *look about distractedly. Oh yeah a real winner.

D you know HOW long it can take to drink a Mint Julep? This was THE longest Mint Julep I've ever drunk! In the end I gave up speaking or asking anything as it seemed I'd arranged to have a drink with a robot. I couldnt wait to leave
THEN After 15 minutes of this . he answered a *call from work* .. he said.. oh I'll just be a minute.. and proceeded to be on the phone then check stuff on his blackberry for the next 10 minutes.

My boot tapping became very fast. As soon as he got off I told him that I thought it was very rude to do that when meeting a Lady.

D you know HOW long it can take to drink a Mint Julep? This was THE longest Mint Julep I've ever drunk! In the end I gave up speaking or asking anything as it seemed I'd arranged to have a drink with a robot. I couldnt wait to leave.

In the morning . I was greeting my a message on Yahoo with a smiley face. saying how good it was to meet me and could we do it again! You can all guess my reply.!

I'll never order a Mint Julep again:P

A Submissives Plea By Anonymous

I'm extremely submissive and feel Women should rule this world. I know what a tough long road lies ahead for me in this journey. Id Beg you to consider this humble lowly slave to serve You in whatever way you deem fit. It would be a great honor and privilege for me to be considered as one of your potential slaves. I’d beg you to consider me and mould me into one of Your perfect slaves, I have a record that is as good as a clean slate and am totally committed to serving You in whatever way You deem fit. I know im a lowly slave and would always be grateful to you for considering me..Id beg You to train me. I would always put You and Your family above everything else and would be totally committed to serving You in BDSM and live normally otherwise. Id love to dedicate my life at your feet as a personal slave boy and work for You and Your family, ive never done this before and would leave it You to consider which is best for me..
My Most submissive fantasy was always to be in a Women led relationship pamper her worship her and adore her. I had a fetish for legs and feet and believe men should always be at the bottom...i ve always been submissive from my schooling days and would try my best to please You.
I think it would be a great honor and privilege to get associated with You in this lifestyle adore You worship You pamper You. I have the greatest respect and reverence for You Mistress I am willing to explore options from You Mistress.
Your humble slave boy

Bubbles By Eroyan

By: Wubber Ducky (aka Eroyan)

It is dark now but I sit waiting. The land is smooth as glass and feels cold under me as I gaze out among the white plain and wide valley before me. I have lived here for many a day etching out my existence for what seems forever. I have always been here, I have never been here, I will always be here, and you will never find me.

Daybreak the sounds of movement catches my attention and the flood begins. Always from the shiny mountain the clear water flows cool and refreshing then always like a hot spring welling under the cold white plain the water begins to steam and I feel the hot wet fog envelope me. It clings to my skin, sticky, hot, and forms beads of moisture that slide, rolling down my body. I am not alone.

She is here the one who I belong to. I only catch glimpses of the Goddess. Even I know she is one, the form of her flesh, her grace and light body moving in perfection as always. I keep my gaze on the white plain before me thought I desperately wish to gaze at her. Again I feel the need to praise her well up inside me but my world goes dark as I am about to talk and piercing the silence there is just a gentle…”Squeak”.

It’s all I ever manage to say so easily she overwhelms me. As I blink in the darkness the fragrance of her body is all around me and I shiver in untamed pleasure and delight before daylight is returned to me by her grace. The fabric she folds and I can see her form clearly as she sets it on the white plateau across the wide expanse from my own plain and valley now filling with steaming water. She graces me with a smile and I shiver as I inhaled deeply trying to control myself as I watch her enthralled.

She adds the magic powder to the water and it begins to bubble and they erupt quickly into the forest of slick white foam. I will have to navigate to find my Goddess. It is a game she plays for me. I am to find the Goddess upon the lake before the bubbles are all gone. It is a game I desire, to hope, would even beg to play if I could only speak. But I must be patient I must endure the unendurable.

First one long leg of the Goddess, it curls and touches just a light gently touch into the valley that was white and cool and empty just moments before. I watch the forest bob and sway from the touch. Then slowly ever so slowly I watch as she stretches and her foot sinks into the forest then her leg the waves of the lake lap near me and I try to wiggle to get closer to slide in to join her desperately. But I must wait, I must be patient even as the steam clinging to me and glistens on my own skin and the Goddess’s tempt me so badly.

The other leg both pillars of perfection that the world itself must rest on. Strong and beautiful, it is so painfully lovely to see. I must advert my eyes, and when I can finally stand it no longer I look back to see her hands sliding along the firm white plain and her back and shoulders sliding into the lake. Her hair drifts down and curls and cuts through the forest of bubbles. No not cut, the bubbles know she is their creator they part for her, for her body sliding and caressing against her as she settles into the miracle of the lake. Jealousy wells up as the bubbles laugh at me knowing I will have to fight my way through them to do what they do so easily to touch my Goddess. I twitch and see her fingers come toward me.

I pant, trying to breathe seeing her hand come closer and once again, I try to scream out my love for the Goddess. They brush me and I shiver in helplessness again and only a soft “Squeak” comes forth. She turns and I cannot look away in time those eyes. The eyes of a Goddess lock onto me for a moment and all is bared before her. She ones again graces me with a smile and I feel like I am melting as warmth wells up inside me.

I see the fountain of oil slide over me and shiver uncontrollably. Slowly I watch and must endure again what is unendurable as her wet soft legs slide from the water and she begins to drip it over her flesh. Rubbing and making her slick and glisten. I am helpless I cannot turn away. My passion is almost overwhelming as I am forced to watch as somehow she becomes more beautiful and elegant. I watch as she slides her hands over her own body making her skin glisten with oil. I tremble as she caresses her body as I must wait and endure.

The bubble nymphs taught me with their laughter as they slide in a dance about my Goddess and then without realizing it I smell the fragrances that well from the lake. The Goddess has added her other magic. The bubbles are drunk now in the pleasurable aroma finally reaching how I am just by the sheer sight of my Goddess. I hear my Goddess let out a soft sigh and moan of pleasure. I tremble so much in my own desire for her, I teeter on the edge of the white plain. No longer cool, but warm and hot stealing my breath and sight into a blurred vision of only the Goddess.

I wouldn’t care if I fell now. Falling is all I have the beauty and grace I have seen again and again in the dance of ritual of my Goddess is more than anyone could bear and not feel they had glimpsed something divine. Now I am falling and I do not care let me meet my maker so that I can live near my Goddess. I stop falling and in my surprise again I utter “Squeak!” I am lifted and the Goddess’s eyes and smile are upon me. I feel her fingers encircling me and they are slick with the water and heat. I gulp and shiver, moan to myself at her touch. She whispers but I cannot hear and then I am enveloped in the forest of bubbles and I bob and weave to avoid their drunken dance.

She is near the game has begun I begin to do my own dance in eddies and currents of my Goddess. I can barely make out her form, in the shadows of the bubbles as I “Squeak” here and there, when I bump into the valley wall. I must search for her, I must find her, and I cannot stand not to touch her. I find her knee and hear her laugh like the mountain wind singing through the cherry trees at spring time. It is a start. I feel her fingers brush me in pleasure as her movements make me dance faster and ride the currents directing myself through the arch of her leg and under her knee.

I endure the turbulence of the bubble nymphs as they slowly come out of their drunkenness knowing that the Goddess’s favorite is upon the waves seeking her. They know should I find her they cannot bring the pleasure I can to her. I bob and toss as between the arch of her knee and the tall walls of the valley lake I slide carefully around the glistening thigh of my desire. I am close I am drifting under the glimmering peaks of my Lady covered in bubble nymphs as they hiss at me to venture no further trying to deceive me into turning around. But one cannot hide that perfection and I know I am close.

I swirl under the peaks and between the arches of my Goddess. The motion swirls me around and around as the scents of flowers make me drunk but I shake my head and keep a clear mind. I must find it the thing that my Goddess needs. I have found her pool in the lake now I must find the one thing that can give me my reward. The motions of her arms and hands make me dance before her and I dance as if I shall never dance again before her, then I hear it. The rise of the white beast, and I try to yell in fright but again all I can venture is “Squeak!”

The white beast erupts beside me rising from the depths of the lake and tosses me to the side. It settles sending the bubble nymphs screaming for the flesh of my Goddess to protect them. I will not back down my Goddess needs the beast to finish her ritual and I will not fail her in my duty. I wait and use the waves to propel me. The beast is strong but stupid I will never allow something like this to elude my passion for my Goddess. I strike at the beast and it leaves its film on me making it hard to find purchase upon it. It lashes around and tries to throw its body against me. I feel the wind knock out of me as it connects and I swirl toward the valley wall.

I spin and slide along the glistening thigh of my Goddess feeling her warm flesh the scent and oil upon her and nearly black out from the feeling but I have a duty and drive back out toward the beast as it roars and froths at the bubble nymphs shrieking on the flesh of my Goddess. Moments before, they had tried to deceive me from getting near, now cheering as I strike the beast and latch on. The beast is wild and covers me in froth and thrashes back and forth but I shall not let go I cannot. We swirl before the Goddess in and out a match of will, one to go wild, and the other to obey the unspoken desire. I am tossed and covered in slickness and water feeling it roll over my flesh and down my back and I dance with the beast, I make it dance.

Subtlety I guide its thrashings its raging nature till it doesn’t even realize its matching my movements and slowly I begin to guide it. This way….that way…and finally before the beast even knows. My Goddess’s hand wraps around it capturing it. Her fingers tighten around it before it can escape and strokes it slowly to sooth the beast into behaving. I cheer knowing I have subdued the beast for my Lady, my love, my passion and desire, but as I lift my voice up I meet her eyes and once again all I can do is shiver in delight and “Squeak.”

She picks me up and cradles me stroking my head and caressing my body in reward for capturing her beast for her. I am graced with being cleaned by her hands and softly dried as her hair floats under me all the while I have let myself go drunk in the pleasure of her touch. She kisses my head softly and I move which naturally being so worked up comes out as a “Squeak.”, then set upon my home on the white plain and valley as I watch the lake slowly disappear and enjoy my Goddess’s form as she finishes her ritual. I breath in the fresh smells and beauty of her till finally she dons her fabrics and the day becomes night again.

I am tired and sleepy and my head drifts with the dreams of my Goddess that will sustain me until the next morning. Of the bubble forest and nymphs that will try to deceive me again of the oil fountain and the scents that come from the water. I have always been here, I will never be anywhere else.

RL Meet Up Confessions By Heather

RL meet up ..

Exactly 369 days ago I was on a plane to the States. I had to go to either England or America for a course in school. I had to stay abroad for three months to improve my English. I tried to go to a summer camp but didn’t get hired due to a lack of skills! My Mistress at the time and I had joked around about me staying with her for three months, little did I know the joking would soon be over and it would become a reality. We made the arrangements and I told my parents I would be staying with a photographer that I had met on the internet, but I conveniently forgot to mention that online medium was SL and that the photographer I’d be staying with was actually my Mistress.

I had been nervous for days. I had horrible nightmares about the customs not letting me enter America or Brigid not recognizing me, even though we had been on cam many times before. My journey to the States was nothing short of being complete hell. I was interrogated by customs for over 90 minutes, they wanted to know every last detail of my trip and I knew for sure they would send me back to Holland and would never allow me to come back. The main issue seemed to be my English, they thought it was fine, so why should I stay in America to improve it? After explaining for the 10th time that it was mandatory for school they decided I could enter the States. I had missed my plane to Baltimore, due to the interrogation, but eventually was the last person to step on the last plane of the day. After a 24 hour trip, which only should have been 11 hours, I finally landed in Baltimore and was on my way to meet my Mistress.

I was so nervous. I wondered if it would be the same in SL, I wondered what the hell I should do if it didn’t work out. I was stuck there, I had no back-up plan other than to go see Claire, but I really didn’t want to bother her for three months.

Many people in SL had warned me that it wasn’t wise to go be with someone I really didn’t know for three months. I didn’t listen, I was completely smitten by Brigid and the idea of being away from home for three months.

After what seemed an eternity I laid eyes on Brigid and thought, “Holy hell, she’s tiny!” I am not a tall person, but she was short! I think she came up to my chest, which made me chuckle, because I find I hard to submit to people that are shorter than me, it’s stupid really. I gave her a hug and was at a loss for words, she wasn’t however. She gave me a big smile and told me to remove my scarf. I always wear a scarf in RL, I hide in it. She had told me that if I would bring it to the States she would burn it, which she didn’t thankfully, but I wasn’t allowed to wear it for three months either.

I have written before about my RL meet up with Brigid. The outcome has changed a bit, we are no longer together. I realize now, it wasn’t all as perfect as I thought it was. We had many ups and downs along the way and the downs truly scared me. Don’t take this the wrong way, because being with her was amazing. But it wasn’t as it should be. We were friends, but we weren’t in a D/s relationship. Or I should say, we weren’t in a D/s relationship as we were in RL. What was seen before as being a playful brat in SL, was seen as having an attitude in RL.

It is hard to look back on this now, as we are no longer together. Our relationship changed the moment I came back from the States. Brigid’s son had died and that changed her as a person, which I completely understand and it was hard having to go back to Holland, knowing what pain she was going through, I wanted nothing but to be there for her.

A RL meet up can be great. Mine, for the most part was, other parts.. not so much. I am very grateful that she took me into her house for three months. I am grateful for the time we had together, but I can’t help to think that our meet up in RL, changed our entire relationship, leading up the point where it no longer worked.

My meet up will always be a happy memory, with sad moments. I will never forget my time with them and I certainly don’t mean to say that my meet up was all bad. For anyone that will have the opportunity to meet someone in RL, don’t make it a three month stay. Don’t have the expectation that it will be the same as in SL, because it won’t be. Feelings, situations, they are different, no matter how great your time may be. When you meet someone in RL, be prepared that it might be the end of your SL relationship .. basically what I am trying to say is, you will never know how it goes down, you will never know how it will end, but I guarantee you, it will never be the way you have had it planned.

Juliet and Juliet By Anonymous

Juliet and juliet

Our tale begins in Verona

Verona, West Virginia

Home of creeks and hills

Mountain folk and pretty girls

Site of many a proud and stubborn clan

Hatfields and McCoys only the most renowned

Though even further between the ridges

Reside the Kapulets and Monteeges

These families have been fighting

Since before the civil war

So long has their grudge been standing

Neither remembers what they’re fighting for

Ne’er the less the battle simmers

Tempers fly and bullets follow

For in the country of a summer

Heat and humidity make one dumber

Amidst this strife and dangerous toil

Float a flower of womanly splendor

One Juliet Kapulet

With beauty no artist could rightly render.

While just across the neighbor hill

In a shack of splendorous size

Resides one juliet Monteege, small j

Daughter of the rival guys

They’ve never met…though seems unlikely

As if in foreign lands they live

Til one warm eve as chance would have it

Their brothers clashed, black eyes to give

The girls from opposite sides did lean

From bushes hidden to watch the scene

Of strength and bravado put to test

To find which family fought the best

Both were finally doomed to fail

For neither side did prevail

Bloody lips and blackened eyes

Were the only things seen by our spies

Battle over, the boys did flee

Off to nurse their miseries

Though the girls did linger with senses keen

To ponder the violence that they’d seen

At last in time, one moved to leave

And other saw the bushes heave

She called out, “Who goes there”

With brave shout thru heated air

Our Juliet though she could not see

Strode out to face uncertainty

And met mid way her family foe

Stood face to face, toe to toe

Without a word each knew the score

One was good, the other whore

The only thing left to discover

Which would leave this shaded cover

The battle began with ringing slaps

Then some shouting and hair pulling bits

Tripped or pushed to the ground perhaps

They rolled around rubbing....uh.... tits

New to actual combat stress

They both began to struggle less

Found themselves touching softer parts

Discovering they both had beating hearts

Looked deep in each others eyes

As their growls turned to sweeter cries

I’ll not go on…as you can guess

They soon found their anger less

In fact they found a common theme

Each the other it would seem

Had long harbored a different dream

One of love, with a similar team

In fact as it went on

juliet of Monteege Kin

found as things progressed

an affinity for BDSM

Juliet had risen to the challenge

taken complete control

Spanked small j’s bottom soundly

And claimed her smitten soul

From this day on, they were known

As lovers…and something more

For Monteeges all had to admit

juliet was a Kapulet’s whore

Their family’s continued to live apart

But gave up their futile feud

Ne’er again to start

For Juliet had made known, small j had claimed her heart!

A First Meeting By Sweeney

A First Meeting

Four hours to go, the anxiety grows, my stomach turns as I stare into my closet my mind drifting to the many conversations we had in the past. Trying to collect my thoughts, working hard to convince myself that I have nothing to fear, nothing to be so worked up about, however my body trembles a bit as the phone rings and snaps me back to reality. I know its Her just as She told me, She would call me with directions and a place to meet. Before I can find the courage to say hello Her voice is there, confident and strong, “7 O'clock, the Starbucks at Barnes & Nobel at the mall, and don’t be late “ its all I can do to find a simple “yes Ma'am”, and with that silence once again surrounds me. I am once again alone with my thoughts, now filled with even more fear yet an overwhelming desire to meet this divine Woman. Fear not of what will happen, but of not living up to her expectations, failing to gain her acceptance and approval. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I decide on an outfit, not wanting to seem stuffy for a casual meeting, yet wanting to put my best foot forward I decide on a Polo shirt and a pair of shorts for the warm afternoon now drawing into evening. Laying back on my bed I get lost in thought once again, and before I realize it it is getting later and have just 2 and half hours to go. A warm relaxing shower helps calm my nerves for the moment, then a close shave and inspection, knowing that making a good first impression can make all the difference in how the evening will go. An hour left before I am to be at Starbucks, I set out, only a half hour ride, I certainly do not want to be late for any reason, no excuse would ever be acceptable. I stop at a local chocolate company on my way and buy a chocolate rose, always hate to show up empty handed. I arrive about 15 minutes early, my heart fluttering, my mind racing, and the true anxiety begins. I sit in my car and watch the clock, each minute seems to take forever, with 10 minutes to go I make my way inside the coffee shop and take a seat in the corner, out of the hustle of the counter and out of direct view of the rest of the bookstore. Minutes pass by like hours, as I nervously stare at my watch. Seven O'clock, two after, 5 after, the fear gets stronger and I know its a test, I try my best to stay cool and relaxed. Then she walks in.

Just as I had been to each picture, I was instantly I am drawn to Her, Casual, but smart attire, a top plenty high enough to be respectful, but just low enough to drive me insane. I rose instantly to my feet upon seeing her, she noticed me and our eyes met, my face became flush, feeling her eyes upon me I wanted to look down but I could already feel her power and allure overtaking me. She make her way to the table with a very confident and purposeful strut to each step. I hand her the chocolate rose and a smile rises quickly as she instructs me to have a seat, I move behind her, and help with her chair before taking mine across from her. Pleasntrys are exchanged as well as some small talk as she directs the conversation from topic to topic, all vanilla things at first to get to know one another, I am so caught up in Her that my mind is lost, hanging on each word, answering each question thoroughly. We share a few laughs about life and just as I begin to feel more comfortable, she stops the conversation abruptly and I am snapped from the place of comfort that had formed. My mouth went dry and I could feel my temperature rise and heart pound. Staring into my eyes, I can feel her power, as she says “why yes I would love a coffee, and no you may not have anything.” It was then I realized that I had no offered to get her something earlier and apologized feeling quite foolish, but had been lost in her since the moment our eyes locked now some time ago. I quickly took her order and moved to the counter and get the coffee and danish that she desired, nothing for me as instructed and it seemed I needed it now more than ever. Truly amazing how an experienced and capable Domme can keep a boy on his toes, make him feel so relaxed one moment and completely on the edge the next, and I was truly grateful the entire time to have had the privilege of sharing the evening with her. Time flew by as we got to know one another and before I realized it was close to closing time for the store. The conversation so easy after the initial fear and anxiety was overcome and Miss was very much in control the entire time which always makes me for more at ease when following a true strong Domme. I walked her to her car, the parking lot had stragglers but we were alone once again. We reached her car I opened her door after she had unlocked it and she sat inside. She told me to kneel on the side of the car, my face bright red but without hesitation dropped to my knees. She bid farewell and told me she would call me soon, and drove off with me still on my knees watching her with complete and total admiration and desire. This developed into a 4 year long term relationship.

A Good Boy By Anonymous

“good boy”

It seems like years counting down the weeks, counting down the days, counting down the minutes and seconds until I finally met her, My Goddess. The nerves and excitement run deep, the idea that I will disappoint her runs through my head, but the words I might here for the first time on my knees in front of her, “good boy”, make me eagerly get ready to make sure all is perfect.

I think I know her so well, the months of talking, laughing, sharing, has come down to this. It is today, a few more hours, just a few more hours. As I prepare, I wonder if she will be happy when she see me for real the first time. My stomach churns, but I keep focus. I look at my list; I have read so many times to make sure all is perfect.
The place, a wonder of flowers, IRIS Hill. Fill with flowers as beautiful as my Goddess. The gift, six lovely pink roses for the months she has fill my life with joy. As I arrive, 30 minutes early , time freezes as I sit on the bench looking and yearning for her. I only need to count seconds now.

As she walks up, I see her, my heart pounding. I sit on the bench as requested as she walks to me but I want to run to her. Her beauty outshines all the flowers and all I can focus on is her. She, she arrives. greets me with a ‘hello boy’ , I slide of the bench to one knee and present her with the flowers , “hello my Goddess”, trying to tell her what I am feeling with my eyes , as she reaches down caresses my cheek … “good boy” … “good boy”.

To See Your Face By Lady Miyani

I've waited so long. It feels like I'm still waiting, I don't think it's really hit me yet. Not even as I drive to the airport, not even as I find your flight on that giant, obnoxious board. I haven't quite realized that in just a few short minutes, I'm going to be meeting you for the first time.

A few short minutes. I should have known better. They drag out, and on, what's taking so long? I entertain myself with stories about how your luggage started buzzing, so customs took you aside and found, instead of a bomb, a buttplug. About how you found the thought of seeing me so overwhelming that you were even now leaning against the door of a bathroom stall, moaning my name under your breath, pinching your nipple to get off as you stroked your length. About all the things I was going to do to you, for needing to touch my cock before you touched me.

I sip the sweet, syrupy concoction Starbucks calls coffee and watch the exit gate. The toe of my Fendi pump taps impatiently on the tile floor, but the rest of my body is stock still. I feel coiled in on myself, like I'm ready to pounce.

Wouldn't you know it, the moment I let myself be distracted by someone else's conversation, you walk out. I'm busy listening, sort of against my will, to some woman talk about an illicit rendevouz she's planning with a man definitely not her husband, and suddenly you're at my side. Your hand reaches for my shoulder, but you know better than to touch me, and so the first sight I have of you is you on your knees in front of me, your head bowed.

I place a finger under your chin and raise your head until I can meet your eyes, searching them with mine. Without thinking, I lean in until I feel your breath on my lips, and as my mouth closes on yours, I whisper, "Finally."

To be continued?

A Lesson Learned By Mitch

A Lesson Learned,or Naivete Doesn't Play (Mitch Philbin)

When I first came out and decided to act on my BDSM and spanking fantasies, I was an excited lad … as many subs are at that point. I had finally realized that all those magazines, toys, and implements were not being sold in the mere hope that I would wander by and meet them. There must have been a larger market out there … somewhere. I did some research and found that my city had a BDSM support and educational group that met monthly. This sounded like a grand place to meet people, or was it?

For two weeks, I loitered up the block and away from the group's meeting p-lace to survey the “pervs” going into the meeting. Hmmmmmmm, they were in nice casual attire, suits, etc. just as I dressed. They also looked like they had actually bathed that day. Interesting … not the stereotype one read about in those days.

On week three, I worked up the guts to drag myself into a packed meeting hall, and was warmly greeted. When the meeting began, it was clear that these people were intelligent, creative, and spoke the Queen's English (well, the Americanized version thereof). And …. the meeting was on Victorian role play and discipline compete with a caning demonstration. Hey, this was something I could get off on. I did pity the poor lads who had their arse's striped, but soon learned that what hey got was nothing more than a love tap.

Eager to actually try something out, I attended a social the following weekend, and met other folks. We had some nice discussions, exchanged thoughts on our interests, and generally had a nice social evening. One of the Ladies asked if I wanted to be spanked as a welcoming venture. I agreed with wide-eyed exuberance, but she said it would have to wait as she was just called home. She asked if I could come by her home during the week. I accepted with some hesitation … was this the axe murderer we all heard about in the scene? Yes, axe murderers can be women, too.

At the appointed time, I arrived at her house all brighteyed, busy tailed, and fearful. I brought a bottle of wine as a gift. She greeted me and announced that it was my lucky day as her friend was also visiting, so I would be initiated by two women. Sounded like a dream come true, so I was all in.

After some small talk, I was told to strip which I did with some embarrassment and humiliation. Fully exposed and vulnerable, I was placed over one Lady's lap. She began massaging my buns which naturally felt good, and then exploded a sharp smack off my ass. Youchhhhhhhhh! My first adult swatwas a stinger, but it really nothing in the big scheme of things. She continued like this for a bit while her friend looked for the paddle they wanted to use.

The next thing I heard was a shriek from the other room followed by a plethora of profanity. My spanker stopped to inquire what was happening, and was told … by an obviously annoyed women … that she couldn't find the paddle in her bag. They concluded that “Bob” who had borrowed it at the last party had not returned it. My “Dommes” decided to continue with a harsher paddle. Well, I was beaten black and blue within a matter of minutes by two angry women. Deep bruises were on my virgin skin over my ass, hamstrings and hips. It took more than two weeks for the evidence of this ordeal to go away. Some might say that this was good as it provided remembrances of the scene, The problem was that there had been no scene, just a beating.

I swore off BDSM after a short foray into it. That is until I worked up the courage to return to the support group meetings and chat with some other folks. I was told that my tormenters were not really known to the group, and was coached in safety procedures. Something I had naively failed to consider ahead of time. I knew nothing about safe words, safe calls, and so on much less not to play with anyone that you don't truly know. At least in a private setting where no one else is watching out for dangerous activities (i.e., dungeon monitors).

So, I got my ass whipped, but learned several things that have guided my experiences in this wonderful scene ever since.

My Former Boy By Lady Crissy

Meeting with My (former) boy

It was a tough choice, but seemed like the right thing to do - to meet in person to say goodbye. I wasnt sure if it would make it harder or easier, but we were parting on good terms and both of us were curious to finally meet. Who isnt - no matter how well you know each other on SL?

We decided to meet in the city I grew up in, Detroit. I knew it well, and I knew just the right restaurant. We both loved Mediterranian food and I picked a place I knew well. I put on a sweater, suede skirt and a pair of boots. It was fall and the late morning was still a bit chilly. I felt good, drove there without any troubles on the highway and arrived at the restaurant a bit early.

Sitting down at a nice table and facing the entrance I ordered some appetizers. I love finger food... I find it very sensual, so I got some hummus and bread and a bowl of olives, little multicolor yummy morsels. I was so tempted to start without him, the delicious smells from the kitchen making me hungry, but had to admit to feeling a little anxious, so I held off.

Not very much later, he walked in. I knew him from his pictures and smiled immediately. He had been Mine after all, lots of good memories and sensations flooded back. And I was surprised, no sadness intruded... just happiness to meet and part well. He was wearing my favorite colors and nice clothes that I know were hand chosen to make an impression. I thought to myself, "well done boy" and smiled.

He saw me right away and smiled in return, moving quickly to join me. He was clearly anxious as well, and had half his collar not turned out. I chuckled to see this, so much like My boy in SL to be rumpled and needing to be sorted. I stood and walked over to him as he came over and reached over to straighten his collar. He blushed, a very human things that SL cant reproduce and it was so very endearing. I kissed his cheek in greeting and waited.

He opened his mouth to speak, and I could imagine he was struggling as to how to address me. Months of calling me Mistress cannot be forgotten, virtual interactions or not. He smiled instead and waited for me to lead. I indicated that we should sit and sat down, knowing he wouldnt sit until I did. Good training shows.. SL or RL.

I ordered for us (of course!) and the food was incredible as I remember. We ate slowly and chatted, and the only awkwardness I found on my end was the urge to touch him, to bring RL to sharp focus - and I found myself indulging in taking his hand after the meal, to hold it while we chatted. His smile beamed at the gesture and he leaned in closer as we spoke. His hand was a little moist and I smiled a bit to myself, enjoying his nervousness.

We talked about our mutual friends on SL, about his new work, his pending move to Africa. He even brought photos from his las trip and the clinic that he worked at. I respected him greatly for being willing to go to a totally unfamiliar place and work to care for people he didnt know. I felt proud of My former boy, this caring and handsome and sweet man.

I wished I had had more time, but still in the midst of classes full time, I was due back home for a study group. And if anyone knows me, RL and SL, nothing but nothing interferes with school. I refuse anything but excellence for myself as well as Mine.

I began to wrap up the conversation, letting him know that my time was running out and I could see a gentle sadness in his face. But this had been the right thing to do and I squeezed his hand gently and then let go before I stood. He stood quickly, and I moved to hug him close, taking my time to enjoy the solid feeling of him, the warmth, the smell of him. I heard him sigh, a small sigh, but nonetheless filled with so much. I knew My former boy, and in that sigh, I could hear happiness and contentment, as well as something more.... maybe fulfillment? He had always said this was his dream, to meet. So, perhaps.

My last words were to tell him that I loved him, and wished him well. I promised to stay in touch by email since that would be the most reliable form of communication available. Then I turned to leave, walking out before him into the afternoon. It was clear and cool and I walked to my car so happy that we had this time.

Crissy Viper

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Breakfast With Miss B. By Anonymous

Breakfast with Miss B .. anonymous

He's curious about my boy. The one in the room; sleeping while my mind ticks away and my avatar roams, seeking some peace. This one has no interest in my peace, only his own slavishly eroticised mind, as he undoubtedly masturbates furiously in his office chair.

"Do you have a dungeon Miss?" his fingers pant
The truth is My boy sleeps his own room, comfortable and safe. Maybe he would prefer more severity but for now I must dream of his comfort at night to be ready to make him uncomfortable in the day. The truth is I cannot sleep knowing he is on a concrete floor overnight. When I wake him by straddling him he smiles and awaits me, his cock erect though he knows it will be ignored. He does not mind, his mind is on my presence and my will. I bring the sheet up over his nose and mouth and hold it there, so only his eyes are out of the bed. After a few minutes of wrapping him this way and that with the cotton sheet I have him bring me tea and breakfast. He delights in the task and tries to run, I tell him to walk and inhale his scent secretly when he is gone. By the time he returns I am wet and do not want the food. He kneels at the foot of the bed as I eat it slowly anyway.

"Do you keep your boys in a cage Miss?" he asks.
I pull out a hair tie from my robe pocket and tell him to come kneel on the bed. I secure the tie once, twice around his cock, which is just beginning to sit up and take notice, not that inspired by my breakfast-eating. It sits firmly on the base of his cock, and I pull out another, then another, till half his cock is swallowed by the elastic. "Behind" - I say and his hands snap behind his back. I have him sit there, legs parted and body up, working his thighs and butt, as I drink my tea. His cock grows in the silence and as if to run ahead of him to do my will. It is constricted and more red than usual but able to function....a worthy experiment.

"Miss may I ask if you have equipment in your home, for restraining your boys?"
What I have is pegs, rubber bands, sleep masks, feathers, fabric, plastic bags, cutlery, lead-tipped pencils, duct tape, sellotape, jewellery, a pair of handcuffs that I rarely use.......and my imagination and my moods. I remove my robe and wrap the bedsheet around myself. He knows enough to be silent. I part the sheet and pull down my panties, taking them off. taking scissors from the side drawer i snip the panties at the side and place the scissors between us. His eyes hold mine. I wrap the panties around his mouth, he parts it to take them in, and I tie them behind his head. They are warm, musty and damp. "sit" I say and he lowers his thighs to his heels. Changing my mind I tell him to kneel on the floor in the same pose. I take the waist tie from my discarded robe and secure his hands and feet with it, a soft hog-tie. He tastes my essence from my panties and his cock is at full extension, the hair ties have spread a little and flesh bulges somewhat between each wrap. My vulva is swollen with the restraint....I stand in the uncertainty of what I want - his cock in me, for him to manipulate it, for me to lick the tip of it, his tongue performing as I command, to whip him with that robe tie....another cup of tea? His eyes await me and we gaze.

"Do you often have subs come to your rl house MIss, how I would love to take that place?"
Do I want to bring this strange questioning and desperate little boy into my home? Why I do not believe so. To be under the pressure of HIS desire, risk seeing that his belly hits the floor when He is on hands and knees, his slavish eyes demanding of me, his mouth NEVER SHUTTING UP, his cock leaking onto my carpet. The boy, no, the MAN on the floor I have known for years, and for years he has loved me, been present for me, awaited my will, asked nothing for himself except on one or two truly awful occasions in his life, been trustworthy and honest, fulfilled my highest and lowest dreams. The boy on the ground has earned his place and is somethiing the inquisitor is not - a submissive man.
I release the tie on his hands and i lay on the bed sideways, my legs off the edge. My sex is open and exposed to him as he sits on the ground before me, and it is wet and pulsing. I hold the sheet coyly at my breasts and the rest of it is open. I place my feet on his thighs and push down then caterpillar them up his legs, torso, until they reach his shoulders where I press and press. I kick a little and tell him to grip my hips. He firmly grips my hips and I tell him to place his nose on my sex. He nose-dives in and his nose wets. He breathes in and out with his nose, the warm air thrilling my vulva. Much as I want him to lick me his restraint is just as important.

Do you keep your boy in chastity Miss?
His nose moves against my vulva, my anus, my clit - his mouth restricted by the lace and cotton. I grab the scissors and cut off his gag in favour of my will. I allow him to pump the available part of his cock while he fucks me with his tongue. I count down and when I reach stop he knows he cannot touch himself but continue just to lick me
He snaps his hands behind his back and groans as he licks my vulva and pushes his tongue inside me. I tell him to stop his tongue-work at the count of 10 and count down again, half crazed.

I pick up the scissors......
the rest, what happens in that room, is private.
And to the boy on the ground, a grubby cheap avatar with a ripped skin and busy hands, blocking my way and nosing in with his questions, I have this to say -
"no, no, no-no, no, no-no-no,, no-no NO"

The Spark By Lady Tora

I pushed open the door and walked in like I always do, chin up, shoulders back, my step sure and steady. There was no way I would ever give the slightest notion that I was anything but confident. Don't get me wrong; I was nervous but not for the reasons you may think.

I paused just inside the door and scanned the interior of the coffee shop. My eyes quickly jumped from face to face, trying to find the one I am suppose to meet. I knew who I was looking for; I had spent the last six weeks getting to know him through pictures and emails. Who would have thought that when he first contacted me on FetLife that I would ever end up agreeing to meet him but he had passed all of my tests and trials. He had done everything I ask as instructed; eager and never with a word of compliant or impatience. Now it was time to see if there was the right chemistry between us face to face.

This is what I was nervous about. I liked this one and there was no doubt that he would like me but just because we clicked in theory and through electronic means of communication did not mean that same connection would be there when I could physically see, hear and touch him. How many in the last two years had I gotten this far with only to find out within five minutes of meeting face to face that the relationship would never progress.

It was never their fault; none of these previous potential boys ever misrepresented themselves or did not try their best. The issue was always me; I am picky and have learned long ago if that spark is not there from the beginning, it never will be and it was not fair for these boys not to have the best of me.

My eyes swept the room back and forth before catching sight of him sitting in the corner on the opposite side of the shop. We waved at each other and then I made my way to him, weaving in and out of people and furniture like an obstacle course. He stood when I got close and flashed me a smile that I have to admit I wanted to see again. He took my hand in his. It felt warm and strong; just the right amount of softness and roughness that I expect a man's hand to feel. Just the right amount of strength in his grip and I wondered what those fingers would feel like as they caressed my skin in other places.

I got the smile again as he looked into my eyes before he leaned over as previously instructed and kissed my hand. I felt my eyes go wide, my mouth gap a little and I am pretty sure a small gasp escaped my lips. The spot where his lips had touched my skin felt like it was on fire and it slowly began to spread like brandy, making my heart beat faster and my breathing quicken. But he did not stop with just the one kiss. His lips and nose roamed over my hand to my wrist, combination smelling my skin and kissing it.

I became lost in the moment, completely forgetting where we were. My mind flashed back and forth; picturing what those lips would look like curled back in agony or maybe ecstasy. I wanted to know first hand how red his skin can get from spanking or flogging instead of just guessing what the colour was from pictures. I wanted to know how he would react to a whole host of ideas that were swimming in my head. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts flooding my senses and concentrate on the situation at hand.
I opened my eyes and purred softly, "Good Pet." His eyes raised to mine and nodded. He straightened back up. "Yes Mistress." He drawled softly and moved to pull the chair out for me and inquired what I wanted to drink. I told what I wanted and watched him move to order it, impressed that he was clearly comfortable with himself, with me and more over, comfortable with being in public serving me. As I sat watching him, my mind focused on his voice. I wondered what it would sound like screaming or begging. I liked how he said Mistress.

My breath caught for a moment. The spark that I was afraid wouldn't be there was burning brightly. I sat back in my chair and smiled to myself. Unless he did or said something radically stupid over the coarse of the evening, he would be Mine.

Meeting Mistress Fantasy By Serugon

(rescued a tiny bit by Hanna Gossamer)

Night fell and I was waiting for the long-anticipated moment that I craved from the instant I was accepted by my new Mistress, Miss Veronica. The previous afternoon, she had ordered me to stay and wait in a downtown hotel room in Barcelona. As I awaited the presence of the Goddess, I lay on the edge of the bed and my eyes looked up at every corner of the suite, lit by twilight, in the details of which I could see a disproportionate wealth, but also an atmosphere given to medieval style, which gave the final touch.

More than an hour passed, and I was still waiting. I knew it was a psychological game engineered by Miss Veronica for me to feel confused and uncertain of what would happen. Despite knowing that this was a game, the feeling of embarrassment came over me completely and my nervousness surfaced and stayed. Insecurity made me wonder if the clothes that I wore would be appropriate. I got to the point that entered my head to go home to change clothes. But soon I thought all this uncertainty was not justified and in fact it was the psychological game that Miss Veronica used on all her subs as well, never mind the clothes, sooner or later I would be stripped of them.

Suddenly the door creaked. My heart skipped a beat followed by a spasm and an increased pulse rate which kept me tense, my muscles stiff. The evening light that bathed the room became intense and I was momentarily blinded. Opening my eyes I saw the outline of a perfect woman who appeared to be surrounded by a deep aura of light. Yes, she was so slender and stylish, with a haughty gait, looking aloof, with an arrogant pride, everything about her makes me want to submit to her. But it was hard to look into her eyes, the feeling of inferiority I felt before her stopped me.

- I see you've learned to wait patiently for my arrival - she said.

I could not utter a word. I was scared and very nervous in her presence.

- I do not know what you're doing there in bed, you should be on your knees - she said.

I said nothing, got out of bed and immediately took the position that she would have liked to see upon entering, but always with my head down.

- Ha, ha, ha, what a polite and obedient boy - she said sarcastically, - Have you not been told that a dog must obey? -

- Yes, Miss I'm sorry - I replied.

- Look into my eyes! - she ordered.

I looked up while I was kneeling before her. However I did not look with my head held high, my eyes could not look into hers, I stared into the middle distance.

- Ha, ha, ha, I love to see a dog like that, so docile and afraid. Now I know I can do to you what you want. Are you afraid of me? - she asked.

- No, Miss. I respect you. -

- Lower your gaze more, dog, do not think you're allowed to keep your eyes on mine for so long - Miss Veronica snapped.

I knelt there beneath my Goddess. I thought I was hers at last and that my fantasy was taking place. She, meanwhile, began to take steps around the room with the nonchalance of one who does not care what is happening. She began to observe the details of the room as if I were not there kneeling by her order. She lit a cigarette and began to smoke very sparingly as she took a tour of the suite. While I was on my knees. She took pleasure in knowing I was there, kneeling and silent, waiting for her to speak.

Miss Veronica suddenly stopped in front of me, stroking my hair, and snapped: - Undress puppy.

Without hesitation I began to obey her order. I felt somewhat ashamed, but knew I had to do it, though I stripped off the pants and shirt... I dared not get my boxer shorts.

- I told you you undress, do not you understand me? Undress! - she said loudly.

- Yes Miss, I thought it... - I answered with some hypocrisy.

But I lowered my pants and now I was completely naked in front of this Goddess.

- ha, ha, ha, I see that you are glad to see me. -

- Miss, of course I'm glad to see you, i could never hide that from you. -

- Well I tell you I love seeing happy dogs, ha ha, that is, I like to see firm and erect cock! -

That made me even more intimidated, which in turn produced a twitch in my cock, and it all became a vicious circle. I'm excited because of her superiority, my lack of control of my penis makes her more superior to me, which produces more excitement. I am doomed.


The Fast And The Furry Ass By Alexith

The Fast and the Furry-Ass: A sequel to Sex Shop.

Last week Miss had me purchase a variety of toys from a sex shop. Finally, at the age of 35, I lost my sex shop virginity. Along the way to becoming “sex shop guy” (yeahhhh) I befriended a sex hobbit named Martin, with an encyclopaedic knowledge of lube and butt plugs, and a very large man with a handle bar moustache who thought my mouth was purty. I don’t know his name, but did I mention that he was very, very large?

This week my Miss continued to push me hard, with yet more humiliating and challenging assignments.
It is Tuesday afternoon and I am making my way to my local mall, butterflies in my stomach. My mission, whether or not I choose to accept it, is to take a picture of every single public toilet in the mall, and to edge in each toilet block.

Nervous, and trying not to look too noticeable I make my way to the first set of toilets, iphone in hand. I’m very fortunate in that I can quickly walk my way down the line of cubicles and take a sneaky snap of each porcelain throne. I feel a bit like a subby version of James Bond as I perform my task with military precision. Finally, I enter the first cubicle just as someone enters. Just as Miss requested I opened my pants, and gaze down at my brand new hot pink panties.

As I listen to someone doing what they do in public toilets, I feel a wave of submission wash over me. I realise where I am and what I have to do. The task of toilet inspection feels so tedious and yet so humiliating. Quietly, I reach in side my pink panties, and pull my cock out. I stroke, surrounded by the grubby tiles and graffiti, feeling absolutely sordid and cheap as I feel my face flush and my cock harden in my hands. Trapped in that humiliation I reach the edge and stop just in time, my breath coming in sharp shallow gasps.

I wait a while to soften, zip up and force myself to leave the cubicle. My face is red and I’m perspiring lightly. Looking at my own face in the mirror it seems obvious that I’m aroused. God, and there’s four to go. Still feeling semi hard, I make sure my t-shirt is covering my area, just like a horny teenager, and I make my way across the mall to my second “inspection site”, then my third and my fourth. Each time the process becomes harder. The feeling of being so degraded, and the realisation that Miss Zarita can, if she so wishes, make my day solely about toilets, immerses me deeper and deeper into the hot, sensitized, haze of subspace.

My face flushed, my desperation to cum growing steadily, I finally make my way to the last set of toilets. There, I pull a small black bag out of my satchel, and take out the items Miss had instructed me to use: a large, black, imposing butt plug, a tube of lube and a condom. In that nasty little cubicle, to the sound of toilet muzak and men using the facilities, I bite my lip and slide the condom over the buttplug, lube it up, bend over and slowly slide the cold, hard buttplug inside me. Just as Miss told me, I lean over like a slut and take it all inside.

Only when I am fully impaled and that “fucked” feeling washes over me, do i begin to stroke. Fighting hard not to breathe too deeply, the hot flush of shame on my face, perspiration on my forehead, I grind back onto the buttplug and finally.. explode in an ecstasy of abject humiliation. I rest my head against my arm as I lean against the tiles, eyes closed. Slowly I pull the butt plug out of me. Exhausted and lost in submission I make my way home, knowing that tomorrow my larger ordeal will begin.

Oh god it’s Wednesday. Wednesday is wax day. I wake up and shower thoroughly, and taxi across town to MANZONE, a business that specialises in waxing the hirsuit male body. On the way I nervously ring to confirm my appointment. The cheerful voice on the line reassures me that, yes, all is fine.

“We’re getting the back, sack and crack wax today aren’t we?”

“yes” is all I can croak.

On the way there my Miss IMs me and asks me how I am doing. Tears spring in my eyes and I smile to feel that She is checking that I am ok. I tell Miss that I’m nervous but doing alright and I smile wide as I read her next message “good boy. I’m proud of You”. Those words make me feel brave and excited to do this for Her.
Finally I’m there: a swanky little home hidden away in the suburbs. The guy greeting me at the door is normal, apart from having this appearance of being slightly too perfect. Not a single hair exists where there should be no hair. Even the stubble on his chin seems somehow sprayed on and “subtly deliberate”.

He rushes me into a cold room with a big massage table and he “gives me a moment to get ready”.
I look down at my clothed body, and realise its time to get naked. For a moment I ponder what would happen if I just bailed out at this point, and I know it’s not an option. I want my Miss to be proud of me. I strip down to my boxers, and hesitate a moment before I whisk them off too and stand naked and vulnerable in a strange man’s house. Nervously I lay face down on the table… My bum feels cold!

He walks in and stands over me. He small talks with me a few minutes and then it begins. I feel a warm liquidy sensation, and I realise my bumcheeks are being generously lathered with hot wax. It actually feels really nice, but as it dries I can feel it gripping onto my skin. I feel him lean forward and start blowing on my bum, which is kind of distracting.

I’m right in the middle of answering a question when he surprises me with the first rrrip of the day …. I feel a sudden jolt of pain like a hot red flash of flame across my cheek and an audible rripping noise which almost seems to come from inside me, but it is over as quickly as it began. The shock of it makes me stop talking and he prompts me to continue as the onslaught begins.

I’m talking about the weather as rrrip rripp rrrip rrip.. hot flashes of sudden pain move from the top of ass down to just underneath my cheeks. It’s painful but so sudden and over so quickly that it’s not hard to bear.

I’m almost starting to feel in control of the situation when I feel his hand on my shoulder, and he is telling me about what comes next.

“OK now I am going to get you to get up on all fours, and spread your legs”

I gulp and to pleasant Enya like music I do as I’m asked, my freshly waxed bum cheeks feeling almost like they are glowing with heat. I lift my arse up into the air and move my knees apart, trying hard to keep my voice level as he asks me question after question about the weather, where I live, how I commuted; anything to keep me occupied talking while he plucks me like a chicken.

I’m finding it seriously hard to keep the conversation going and I lapse into silence as suddenly I feel extra hot wax spread liberally between my cheeks. It feels hot and squelchy as more and more of it oozes between my cheeks. I close my eyes and realise this is crunch time. The point of no return. I’m about to be waxed in a place I can’t even see without the aid of a small hand mirror, which frankly I would not want to do.

“Mate, I’m not going to lie to ya” he says in an almost blokey voice, which contrasts deeply with his very elegant and manicured look. “This is going to hurt”.

I try hard not to breathe too quickly, and try to keep my voice calm and level as I feel the now very sticky wax drying there.

“OK were going to do this on the count of 3” he continues.

“one. Two” Rippppppp

Where was the three, my brain screams! This one is different. Its not just a quick bandaid motion. My whole body jumps and I feel almost as if for a moment I’m pulled backwards as the long line of wax between my cheeks rips away every unacceptable hair. Ok that one hurt, a lot!

I feel myself shake a bit after that one. “Ffffuck” I grunt in a muffled kind of way into the pillow.

“I was waiting for three!” I say to him indignantly.

“I know” he replies smugly.

It’s then time for my cock, balls and stomach to be waxed. I roll over and am told to spread my legs at the knees “like a frog”. By this time I am kind of in a daze and I do as I’m told. I notice that his elbow is now kind of pinning my knee down and he explains to me that he has been kicked in the head a few times by guys in this position. I laugh nervously.

The balls are surprisingly painless being waxed but the waxing of my cock is by far the worst pain of the whole experience. Every yank along my shaft makes me jump and I find myself fighting back a yelp and I realise I’m sweating by the time he finally finishes there. He explains to me afterwards that the hair growing around the shaft goes very deep.

Just a few more rips, tweases and a very creepy feeling of having my belly button waxed, and I’m done! I get up from the table unsteadily and look down with shock at an expanse of reddened bare skin. Wow. I look like a plucked chicken!

An hour or so later I am home and my Miss instructs me to put on my panties and do a little photo shoot for Her. I’m completely surprised by the results. When I look at the picture I don’t even recognise my own panty clad ass cheeks. In mixed shock and arousal I send through my pictures to Miss, and I blush and smile when Miss IMs me saying that I have a “nice ass”. That moment of realising I’ve made my Miss happy makes the whole process worthwhile.

So there it is. From sex shops, to toilet inspections to the infamous back, sack and crack wax. I’ve been humiliated, hit on by a large guy with a handlebar moustache, made to feel like a nasty little slut and finally plucked like a chicken…

Thank You Miss. It’s been an education. :)