Confession by Anonymous

Anonymous

I log into sl hoping to see her, will she be in the courtyard when I get there? If not I’ll wait, she’s worth the wait. We’ve spent some time in IM and she’s a genuine very nice person and you can tell she really cares, but her voice her voice drives me insane! She can’t talk enough for me, even if its basic conversations. Her voice is so soft and sexy it just oozes sexuality. Her real life picture doesn’t disappoint either, long black hair, beautiful brown eyes that mesmerize you, and a devilish smile that tells you just how wicked she could be. Oh the thoughts that go through my mind. Imagining her teasing me, bringing me to the edge and back, her hot breath as she whispers in that sexy voice in my ear, “that’s a good boy, do as you’re told”, mmmmm fuck! So hot but I think my thoughts betray me in this confession as I’m sure she knows that I wrote it for her but will she keep my secret?

Memories By Miss Destiny

Memories by Destiny Teardrop

Smells. The smell of man, of you, of lust, of sweat, the smell of raw desire.

Your blue/green eyes that twinkle when you laugh.

The hair: on your chest, your back, your arms….so much of it to run my fingers through and to pull and twist.

Lying in the dark, talking, sharing secrets, laughing.

Holding your hand.

The love in your eyes when you’re on your knees, looking up at me.

Groans and moans when I’m taunting you, teasing you.

Whimpers and gasps as I kiss, lick, suck and nibble you.

Watching TV together.

Singing along to the radio together, as we drive down the motorway.

Sharing Honeycomb ice-cream, Krispy Crème donuts and other assorted unhealthy foods!

Your attempts to speak with an English accent.

Walking in the rain.

Queueing for hours to get on the Eiffel Tower.

Swearing our way around Paris.

Climbing on top of you, riding you.

Your face, your voice - as you orgasm.

Not having to worry about time zones or connection problems.

The warmth that fills my heart when you are close by.

The overwhelming desire to control you, possess you, care for you, own you.

The feeling of completeness that surrounds me when we are together.

The absolute joy you bring to me in everything you do.

The gut wrenching pain, as if someone tore out my very soul, when I watch you go through security at Heathrow.

……………………..I love and miss you, so very much, my boy, my love, my one.

Confession by Heather

I watch them from a distance. I'm slightly amused by the look on his face as she walks up to him. His jaw has dropped and his eyes are already devouring her body. If it was permitted to carry a phone in here, there would be text messages saying, "Boys, I'm gonna get lucky tonight!" But phones aren't allowed, and he won't get lucky, he might survive this night, but only if she feels generous and he.. he is oblivious to it all.

Her heels are matching the rhythm of the music. She strides, steady, she has a goal and he is it. But he is still unaware, she shoots him a smile and I can almost hear a, "Fuck yes" coming from his mouth. He's a gentleman, he kisses her on the cheek once and waits for her to sit down before he joins her. His training has started and yet he still hasn't gotten a clue.

I switch tables. I want to hear them. No one notices though, they are too busy concentrating on their partners. I came to watch. I always watch, sometimes from a sideline, sometimes right up front, I never interact, I watch and learn.

"It's nice to meet you. I'd call you by your screenname, but I think we're past that stage now." He rambles on, not giving her a chance to speak. I chuckle as she lets him, as she is probably calculating her next steps. I wonder what she is thinking, but most of all I wonder why the boy won't hush.

She holds up her hand and he immediately stops speaking. "Oh! I'm sorry!" She shakes her head and he rolls his eyes, probably thinking he won't get so lucky tonight. "Call me Miss." The game begins. He laughs. "Miss? Why?" She is not amused. "I did not say you could ask a question, I just told you to call me Miss, understood?" He stutters, "Ye-ah, sure, I guess." She bends over and grabs his tie as she pulls him closer, I can't hear what she is whispering in his ear but I can imagine it's something like, "The correct answer would be, 'Yes Miss, boy!'

He looks confused and slightly flustered as his cheeks turn a red. The game has definitely begun. They talk, about nothing in particular for a while and he is still devouring her with his eyes. I count to five. 1.. he looks into her eyes, 2.. he is trying, but his eyes are drawn elsewhere, 3..his gaze slowly goes down her neck to her cleavage, 4.. down her stomach and lower, 5 "For fuck's sake boy! I know I'm define, but try not to make it so obvious please."

He mutters a soft, "yes Miss." He is still completely out of the blue of their roles. He doesn't know the meaning of the word, he is completely unaware of the club he is in, all he sees is her. I can't blame him. She's gorgeous. She looks over at me and winks. Her game is on. It's like the olympics and she's headed for gold.

She moves closer to him. Her arm is resting on his leg and his smile reappears. He's bold and wraps his arm around her. She let's him. She's going to drive him insane. Several eyes are now locked on them. They know the game, it's a game she plays often. Boys come and go. They hardly ever come back. She is intense. She's is the fire and they are the moths. They are drawn to her, they ache to be close, or they ache to get laid, but she won't go that far. We all know her game, but he is unaware.

Her fingersnails dig into his pants and a sleezy smile appears on his face. She teases him and let's her. He is her pray and he likes to be hunted. His fingers caress her shoulder and she slaps his hand. A soft, "okaaay" escapes his lips, but he moves his hand away. He is already a fly in her web. He can't leave no matter how bad he might want to. He is already drawn to her. He knows what is going to happen, he just has no idea how it is going to happen.

Her hand slides up higher, to the part where is trousers are visible higher than it should be. He's aroused. She's handy, crafty, call it what you want, but quicker than he expected, she has unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers and slipped her hand inside. "Here?" Her hand grips his cock and she squeezes hard, "Here what?!" He gulps, "Here Miss? There's people watching!" She laughs but doesn't answer him. She takes out his cock, for all to see, though in a club like this, no one is shocked to see it, they expect it.

He is hard within mere minutes. I don't like to see it, but her interaction with him turns me on. She strokes his cock, teases him endlessly and she laughs as he cries out, "Please suck my cock Miss." A firm, "NO" can be heard throughout the club and people laugh. He must be humiliated because his cheeks are redder than ever and he tries to hide his cock. But her grip is firm, he can't move.

His moans grow louder and louder as her finger teases the very end of his cock with her fingernail. "I'm going to cum soon." She slaps his cock as she says, "Maybe, but not until you learn to properly ask and not before I've given you permission to do so." He looks puzzled, "Ask Miss?" She nods.

"Uhm, uhm okay, but seriously I'm going to explode soon Miss, may I please cum then?" A devious smile appears on her lips, "Definitely." She let's go off his cock as she adds, "You can come back next week. You will edge yourself every day at 8PM for 30 minutes, but you will not cum. You can cum, when you learn that I'm in control. You can cum, when you can ask me properly, when you learn to beg. You could go home, disobey my orders and be a little slut, but you'll come back next week, won't you? You can't stay away now, can you? This, boy, is just the beginning. Now tell me, what will you do."

"Same time Miss, next week. I promise not to cum. This is too fucking hot." She glares at him. "I mean, Miss, this is.. I have no words. This is exciting and a little awkward." She smiles.

He's a moth and she's the flame.

He looks back at her an astounishing three times before he finally walks out the door. Oh yes. He will be back. For he is drawn to her, body and mind. Soul and heart to come.

Karma by Anonymous

Anonymous

I almost cried when he told me he was now in a trial collar.

I spent the last two weeks with him, all day and nearly all night.

I wondered who could have collared him when he was with me 24/7 for the last two weeks.

Did she not know this? did she collar him on the Sly?

I was shocked

Hurt

devastated

and then anger set in

I wanted to scream at him

call him a liar..

who the hell did he think he was?

what did he think this was.... a game?

all I could think of was what a waste of my time and energy.

He assured me the Lady he was speaking with was only mentoring him.

"Assured", " I Assure you she is only mentoring me and has no interest in a collar"

Those were his words and I believed him.

He lied, he is a Liar. Stupid Boys why do they do this?

He allowed himself to be Licked and licked over and over and I wanted No part of that Brownie.

How did I allow this to happen?

How did I not see this comming?

Gawd i just want to use a Cane on him!

I didnt mute him, but I did unfriend him and told him I didnt want anything to do with him. He was now a collared boy and out of respect, our friendship could never be what it once was. IM's were no longer acceptable.

There would be no more laughing, talking, getting to know eachother till the wee hours of the morning. no Loss of sleep, laying in bed thinking of him wondering if he was the one. no more wasting of my time. I would stop all communication and he would cease to exist and I would Never look back.

He would send Note Cards titled "Apology" and I would delete them and not bother reading. Then i would dig them out and read them. Gawd what was wrong with me? this is not the Norm for me.

Once a boy is gone, he may as well be dead in my eyes.

A month goes by, he returns to Dominion. I see him in the courtyard kneeling, and I open his profile .....

and read....

" Uncollared boy"

Karma! dontcha just love her?

I didnt laugh, but it did make me smile to read that...

Then knowing how sensitive he is, Ii wondered if he was ok.

I sent the IM welcoming him back to Dominion, and the chat started all over again.

it's different this time, I wont offer a collar and I know he wont take it. He wants Real life and I dont. I dont mind his friendships and looking for a Mistress of his own, or getting to know the ladies.

So with that understanding and knowing this, I do enjoy the talks till the wee hours, the laughter, and Cherished friendship and expect nothing more, because Friends are forever, and Lovers cum ........and go!

I Still Feel You by Anonymous Sub

"I still feel you."

I think back to my real life Mistress, my first and only, and I can still feel her fingers tracing through my mind, my heart. I hear her voice, her touch, the intonation of her words, the feel of her nails across my skin, or the sound it made when she would touch my jeans under the table at a restaurant and scratch a single nail up the inside of my thigh.

I remember how you could see deeper into me then I ever saw into myself. How you extracted from me those deep, dark secrets, those things I would think about trying but did not have the courage to dare try. You were able to push me and help me find those places, safely and with patience. With love and passion. Consuming me, and leading me into deep submission. A place I had not known before, and would never want to leave once I felt the quiet bliss of being your possession.

I remember you still, the small ways you made me yours, marked me as yours.

I smile now when I think about how I wore your wet panties as a bracelet to class.

Writing with a sharpie over my cock with simply, “Mine.”

Sitting in conversation at your home, with one of your friends over, slipping my cock out of my jeans and stroking me, taking what was yours, when you wanted, as you wanted, leaving me a blushing fool.

The necklace you bought me, to show ownership, as well as to give me peace in my heart, knowing that I belonged to you, completely.

I think about how you made me edge in every bathroom in my dormitory, on every floor. All sixteen of them.

I feel how you pushed me towards public play, and so many rain filled woods did I strip for you, and kneel, and pleased you, feeling your fingers running through my curly hair, the rain running down our bodies, feeling so complete to be yours.

The many times our eyes would meet and you would say, “now boy”, as you led me into the woman’s restroom where I stripped and kneeled for you, giving you oral and fucking, not caring who overheard.

How you pushed me to write, to express myself to you. To be open, honest, and show my full heart to you.

Do you think of me?

I feel you still.

The Courtyard by Anonymous Domme

Anonymous

I sit in the courtyard listening, laughing and loving the conversations, the friendships, the voices of Dominion. It is my second home in Second Life.

I see him there and he makes me smile.

I love to say things to him in open chat and make him Blush. He is very special to me, and I care about him very deeply and hold a special place in my heart for him.

I enjoy hearing him Laugh. He tries to hide his laugh, but I can tell when he talks he is Blushing, smiling and laughing all at the same time.

you can hear it in his voice and I love how that make me feel.

I cherish his friendship, its like no other!

I can confide in him and know he will keep it to himself.

Guess who?

Hotel Room by Lady Tora

You are sent a swipecard and a note telling you to be at a certain location, at a certain time, and not to worry about what you are wearing. Further instructions will be given later. It does warn you not to be late. You arrive at said location to discover it is a hotel and you are wondering how you are suppose to figure out what room to go to since there is no indication on the swipe card. As you stand in the lobby wondering if you should ask the clerk at the front desk, you receive a text stating a room number and 5 min. You smartly assume that means you have that amount of time to get to the room.

You arrive at the room and swipe yourself in. The room is dark as you close the door behind you. You start to move further in, curiosity getting to you, but you freeze when you hear my voice, growling low, "I thought I told you not to be late, Slut." You murmur your apologizes and a low light flicks on in the room revealing me sitting in a chair wearing tall black leather boots, long black leather gloves, and black satin and lace lingerie. I stand and walk over to you, stopping in front of you to place a firm slap across your face. I growl low again, "I am disappointed Slut. You know how I hate to be kept waiting." You murmur your apologies again and ask how you can rectify the situation. I flash you a predatory grin and purr, "Strip." I move away from you and sit on the edge of the bed in the room, crossing my legs, making my foot bounce as I watch you undress. My eyes follow your every move and I lick at my lips on occasion.

Once you are naked, I tell you to drop to your knees and to crawl over to me like the dog you are. You comply and once you get to me, you are instructed to kiss my feet and beg to be forgiven, remaining on all fours. You shower the foot offered to you with kisses, begging for me to please, please, please forgive your tardiness and thus making me wait. I pull my foot away and tell you are forgiven this time but it is not to happen again. You thank me and I tell you to kneel in front of me, taking from the bed beside me a simple black leather collar with a lone silver ring. One of my booted feet rubs your cock as I arch an eyebrow and ask, "Who do you belong to Slut?" You state that you belong to me and I slip the collar around your neck, fastening it into place.

I smile at you and slip my fingers under the collar, pulling you up from your kneel so that I can kiss you hungrily. I break the kiss to purr against your ear, teasing it with my tongue, "Mine." I hold onto your collar with one hand, keeping you upright with my cheek pressed against yours. My free hand caresses your shoulders and moves down your chest, finding a nipple to pinch lightly, again purring against your ear, "Mine". My hand moves down further and stops to cup your balls, gently squeezing them. Again I purr, "Mine." My hand slips over your hips and around to dig my fingers into one of your ass cheeks to once again say "Mine".

I kiss you again and pulling on your collar, I tell you to get on the bed, instructing you to lie in the middle, on your back, head and feet in the normal direction. I flash you a grin and then proceed to tie your wrists and ankles to the bed, making you immobile. I start at your feet, licking and kissing, the sole, sucking or biting on your toes, nibbling on your ankles as I tease you. My hands caress your calves and as I move up to lick and kiss at them, my hands move to caress your thighs, hips, avoiding touching your cock. I lick, bite and kiss your knees and then your thighs, my hair and occasionally my cheek, brushing against your cock but never my mouth or tongue.

I move to kiss and nibble on your belly, my tongue playing with your belly button before moving up your chest, assaulting your nipples; biting, sucking, licking, the tip of my tongue teasingly tracing the outline. I then move to lick and nibble on your collar bones, the base of your neck and then up your neck to your ears, sucking and pulling on the lobes with my teeth. I take great pleasure in listening to you moan in pleasure, wiggling beneath me, trying to get closer. I kiss you, long and slow, savouring the taste of your lips before slipping off the bed. I give you a knowing grin and slip my panties off before getting back onto the bed.

I hold onto the head board and position myself to straddle your head. One of my hands grips your hair and pulls your head up, growling softly that you are to lick my clit and pussy. As you start, my hand leaves your hair and goes back to gripping the headboard. I moan and rock my hips, enjoying the incredible pleasure your tongue evokes. I growl and moan about how well you are doing, telling you to go back to a spot and how you exist only for my pleasure. I get very close to cumming before I lift myself away from you and slide down your body to position myself straddling your hips. The head of your cock pressing against my very warm and wet entrance to my pussy.

One of my hands finds your hair again to grip it as I lean over to growl in your ear, "I am going to fuck you Slut but you are not to cum. Your cock is only for my pleasure now." I slide onto you, moaning and crying out at the overwhelming pleasure that always exists when I am fucking you. I grind and rock my hips, moving hard and fast, taking my pleasure from you as I continue to growl that you are not to cum. Finally when you don't think you can hold on any more, I climax, my pussy squeezing and spasming around you as the rest of me quakes and quivers, whimpering softly at how good my orgasm feels.

I fall forward and rest against you, panting for a bit. I lift my hips and I chuckle at your groan at being so hard, yet unsatisfied as you slide out of me. I kiss you, licking at the taste of myself on your lips as I purr how you are such a good slut and you were going to be rewarded. I release you from your binds and move to sit in a chair at the end of the bed, keeping my legs wide open so that you can see my glistening, swollen, pink, well fucked pussy. I tell you are to masturbate as I watch but not to cum without permission.

As you near climax, you beg me to let you cum and I deny you, telling you to stop touching yourself. I tell you to watch me as I finger my pussy and clit and after what I think is long enough, I instruct you to start masturbating again. This time when you beg to cum, I grant permission. I sit watching you climax before I climb back onto the bed, licking at your sticky mess, drawing your spent cock into my mouth to clean away any evidence of your orgasm and then moving to cradle you against me, as I caress you lightly, playing with your hair and purring against your ear that you are Mine and always will be.

The End

Confession Dark Desire by Zylis

Touch me, taste me,

feel me, face me,

Set my flesh aflame,

and let me burn for you,

This passion runs rampant,

Undying, and true.

Leather strips strike my back,

bringing about an arch,

Passionate screams wet my lips,

as my skin is torn apart.

With you between my parted legs,

slamming forward with your every thrust,

My hands grip the headboard,

so very tightly cuffed.

The flogger roughly circles my neck,

and my lungs fall short of breath,

I feel myself begin to throb,

and my heart beats against my chest.

My whimpers come more urgently,

as the leather looses its hold,

And your thrusts come more frantically,

as I feel the leather's scold.

My body begins to crack and quiver,

my sanity starts to flee,

I feel my world begins to shake,

as orgasm shatters me.

My body falls back, limp,

against your sweat slick flesh,

And my head hangs low,

all muscles in protest.

I whisper a million thank yous

to a Mistress so divine,

As she uncuffs me,

to hold me, for a time.

The Studio by Anonymous Domme

The Studio

by Anonymous

There is light reflected in his eyes as he watches me. His wrists are proffered... a quiet offering, palms upturned, and I am concentrating so hard I can see the subtle swirl of crinkles in his palm as his fingertips curl inward instinctively when the rope is pulled just a touch too tightly as I run out of length.

There is light reflected in his eyes as he waits for me. His calves are curled beneath his body, and the muscles in his thighs are pulled taut

with the strain of kneeling as he casts his head down, curving the arch of his spine, his palms still supine before he whispers quietly, "Yours, Mistress, Yours."

There is light reflected in his eyes as he moves for me. He knows we've come here for this and this his gift to Me -- his own body, supplication as he straddles the leather horse, My fingers moving over the curve of his hamstrings, raising the fine hairs on his legs in a line of goose-flesh as he shivers before my fingers explore further up, probing, pushing into the puckered bud of his ass.

There is light reflected in his eyes before they close for Me and I reflect for a moment how we got here...

It is our first genuine real life experience together as Domme and sub outside of second life within the scene. His birthday gift to Me....

It was the green door... and we entered as two anonymous people off the street. We could have been anyone... just going into an apartment building. But we were buzzed up to The Studio and greeted there by our Host for the night.

This was My boy's birthday gift to me and I was stunned. Sure I've been in the scene before, but not like this.

It is an elaborate play room with just about everything you can imagine... toys I would never want to touch (toilet play and enemas) to beautiful metal and leather collars, crops and floggers I am aching to try on My boy now in real life for the first time.

The Host is a petite Domme with a commanding presence... there to guide us through our first real life experience together, but she is deferring to me regarding Mine and I immediately like her. We had him strip and present himself...

His shudder as my finger pressed deeper into his ass brought me back to the present... he held in place so beautifully and I brought out the cup of water with the finger of ginger I had forced him to so carefully cut and peel with his own hands.

The smell of it was pungent in the room now and he tightened his ass in anticipation of what was to come. "Relax..." I hissed. And he did so immediately. There would be no lubrication as that would dull the effects so it was important that he was relaxed.

I press the moistened root against his rectum and he flinches almost immediately, moaning. I press my left hand down on the small of his back, arching it to present his ass and push the finger of ginger inside until it reaches the concaved hilt which remains outside his body. I see his toes flex and he groans but remained immobile. I look at my watch to time out twenty minutes, remembering from my reading that ginger isn't effective after that much time.

I weigh the feel of the leather crop in my right hand. The other Domme smiles at me. She is beautiful in her leather corset. "The crop is an extension of your hand," she says. "He must come to see it as the equivalent of your touch... any touch from you is a good touch... a gift to him."

I nodded, liking the feel of it... it felt like an extension of My hand... like part of Me... like an aching leather fingertip that needed to reach out and touch something... anything... but especially My boy. I pat the little leather square against the bud of ginger, testing the crop and grinning before smacking it down in a line across his ass and then caressing his cock and balls where they hang down, swollen, engorged, and caged, between his straining thighs. He is shaking.... and tied and prone over a horse... and it is a first for us both in real life. We had agreed on a safe-word before hand but I was worried he would never use it.

I lay several more lines with the crop across his ass before smacking his balls with the leather pad of the end. He is quiet... but I see his toes flex... his control breaking. After twenty minutes, I remove the ginger, hand it to him and instruct him to throw it away. He does so, his eyes downcast.

We move across the room to a small section with hard wood flooring and our host brings out saran wrap and candles. We wrap him up like a mummy and order him lay on his back on the floor. He is still sweating from the ginger when She lights the candles and hands me one.

We hold them over him, dripping the hot wax onto his skin, giggling gleefully like two little girls using magnifying glasses to kill ants on a sidewalk as he squirms under our ministrations until finally he cringes... and hisses between gritted teeth, "That's a yellow!" to signal that we are close to his limit.

I am pleased that he's admitted he has a limit... admitted it is enough... that we'd pushed him hard enough he had had to admit not only to us but to himself too that it was almost too much.

We cut the saran wrap away and I kiss his jaw. He smiles, a bit weakly and pushes himself up to his knees to begin cleaning up the scattered bits of wax.

Boy by Anonymous Domme

He hides what he is inside

Like a stubborn paranoid turtle

"I am whatever you wish me to be, Mistress"

I want him to give me something to work with

I want him to be something other than a sponge sucking up my air

I want him

I want to breathe him in

I want to taste his fear

I want to hear him tell me something true

Something that resonates with believable clarity

I shouldn't have to rip out his heart to see if it beats for me

I want to know what keeps him awake at night

I want to see something that makes him stand and gawk in wonder

I want to watch his lips move over my skin

I want to know

He wants to be there

"I am whatever you wish me to be, Mistress"

Be something I want.

Impromptu Anonymous Confessions

Sept 17, 2011

Before I actually came to the Dominion I had heard so many stories that I was truly scared to death to come here. But after coming here I found that after you got past the "prickly shell" there were a lot of caring and, dare I say, loving people here.

My time here has helped me in ways I dare not confess since it will give me away.

Thank You for all that All of You are.

I lay him on the bed, sweat beading his brow,

The pain etched on his pale cheeks,

A passion charged token

of love and sheer joy.

He is broken

With love and devotion

and I devoured it all.

Girl by Anonymous

Once upon a time

There was a girl

She was like any girl

She wanted to be a good girl

Good girls get sweets and pats on the bum

I watch her from a far away place

I see myself in her bewilderment

I want to slap her out of her complacent duplicity

I want to scream at her

Live! Be the bitch whore

The girl people talk about

The girl people secretly yearn to see staring back at them from the mirror

Be brave and fearless

You won't know you can fly until you fall

Years from now the dirty things won't keep you awake at night with regret

It will be the things you wish you had done

The words you wish you had screamed

The life you wished you had the courage to have lived

Let me shove you off that ledge

And watch you

Fly.

I confess that latest confession has made me hotter than melted butter.

I'm a guy in real life.

t's hollow here...

This faded dream

That is not quite

real enough anymore.

And when I see you...

I want you to drink me

As I breathe you

And we both drown.

You seep into me...

like rain water

into parched, thirsty earth

cracking with need.

And I want to...

Consume you in a kiss

like licking fire

and burning embers.

You stir my heart...

You mend my soul.

You move with me

on my axis.

And I pull you into my

Whispered fantasies

As though I might

Be able to keep you.

I cannot think straight. I am not a whole person. I think about her everyday and the words between us. I am powerless , I don't want power. I just want to be. To exist for her. I don't even care if I have to give it all up. Everything I've done. I am willing to give it all up just to hear her say, "mine."

Heavenly Bodies In Rest And Motion by Romero

Heavenly Bodies, In Rest and Motion

Romero de Luna

The crescent moon haze shades a torrid breeze which blisters a blanket’s skin, running fingers, the tips of my fingers over the satin curve of—well I like to compare a woman’s curves to a landscape of hills and valleys, because of Sappho, and I blame Neruda- that every unmarked trail I travel is both virginal and vaginal- the salted sea breeze- the curtained veil of fog and darkness- Jesus, I need to get laid, to plow an acre or two- for a smile on a woman’s lips, the feathered twirl of a swallow on a ribboned path like that tattooed libido on the back of her thigh, twining vines from her calf and reaching up- interweaved in their flight toward Hosanna; tattooed vines, a scar from a lover’s caress, organic orgasmic and over pedantic I am groaning too cleverly for my craving tongue: the roses redder than a fang banger’s breast, my balls still bluer than violets and though the flora wants all the attention, I offer body and soul to your hands, while I still have time.

Dinner With Friends by Zaira

I can't believe how lucky I am. Even as I walk now slightly behind her, along the pavement towards the restaurant I feel like pinching myself just to make sure it is real. Of course, it’s not quite perfect because we are meeting others this weekend at the restaurant. I am looking forward to seeing our friends, but my work visits through her city do not happen often enough to willingly meet others on such precious visits.

Everything I am wearing to dinner this evening she has picked out. That helps a little, that even though we are missing our usual Saturday evening activity of my cooking while she relaxes, watching a movie or some play in the comfort of her home, she has influenced and controlled my outfit down to my very underwear.

As my palms move down over the front of my skirt, smoothing it in habit at the sides where the wind threatens to lift it from my thighs, and though I'm not sure how she sees this movement, she stops suddenly. God, I can feel myself dampen at the very look in her eyes as she moves them sharply, in the middle of the street over me. My hair has been left loose, just skimming my shoulders with a single clip in the front to keep it from falling over my face, which she does not like as I hide behind it. My neck is bare this evening. It is never really bare of course, her collar is there around me at all times, or her fingertip as was the case now. She traces along my collarbone as she leans forward and whispers, “Don’t. Touch. That. Skirt.” Her voice is firm and I instantly close my fingers into my palms to help resist the urge to hold it down in the soft wind which still licks around the edge. She fixes the lace trim of the light cream top which hangs loose down my front, and buttons up my back. The chiffon like material follows the natural curves of my body, and clings to the royal blue lace bra below it. You can see the darkness of the bra along the wires which mold to my breasts, from top to bottom and the small bows on each strap under the light cream top, but she didn’t care. In fact, that was part of the reason I suspect she picked it from those I brought in my case. My underwear match pretty well, a dark blue lace in the style of boy shorts, which cling to my hips and hug the curve of my ass cheeks. Hardly looking at the skirt which skims my knees, she lifts the edge and runs one finger along my tights, “You need stockings, by the next time you visit. Don’t forget.” Then turning she takes my hand in hers and leads me on down the street towards the restaurant, the soft click of my heels with each step matching hers perfectly.

She drops my hand as we move into the restaurant, and I hang back as she prefers while she secures a table for four. The others have not yet arrived as we are led to a booth style table, which backs onto a large window which opens onto the street beside us. As I slip into the booth and slide towards the window, I struggle to sit and not touch the skirt. Have you ever tried to sit and not fix your skirt?

After a couple of minutes our friends arrive. We know them from secondlife, the Dominion as well actually. It is where we all met, though I do not know them well, they live close and a dinner is arranged every six months or so. The usual string of conversation follows from how everyone is, to the latest gossip from the courtyard, and a slight mention to the events which are currently going on while we order drinks.

I say we in the loosest sense of the word, as it is not a “we” which I am involved in at all. She has wine, as does the Lady we eat with. Her submissive, one of the boys, is permitted a beer. She orders me water. This interests me, as although I am not a lover of wine it is usually placed before me at such a dinner and I am expected to make my way though at least one glass of the stuff. I sip the water and glance to her, shifting on the seat as I try again to move the skirt which has doubled under me.

I simply adore how she orders for us both now. At the beginning she used to ask some questions, what I liked or didn’t like, what I could eat and what I really would struggle with. I find something so intimate about this, she cares what is both on, and inside my body.

The conversation continues and I drift in and out of it at times, following the tone of her voice more than the words, unable to remove the smile from my face as I am reminded of the joy I feel of being hers in public, during the course of dinner. It always washes over me with pride that I am with her. A second bottle of wine is ordered to the table and as she lifts the glass she turns and hands it to me, nodding slightly to encourage me to taste it. As I hold the glass with the crisp white liquid to my lips she leans forward and murmurs in my ear, “Go to the toilets downstairs and stay there.” As a flush warms my cheeks I swallow the burning liquid after my water and returned the glass to her, my voice quiet as I ask, “Mistress, may I use the bathroom please?”

A smile is forwarded my way from the other side of the table but she lets out a deep sounding sigh and pauses a few moments before allowing me out. I can feel my skirt folded unnaturally against the back of my legs and reach out to smooth it, remembering just as I touch it in walking away that I shouldn’t have. It is like eating a doughnut though and not licking the sugar from your lips. Almost impossible. I dare not glance over my shoulder to see if she has noticed or not as I move between the tables towards the toilets.

I sit there. I wait. I look at my watch. Two minutes pass. I use the toilet while I am there. Five minutes. After what feels like half an hour, when I have read every possible sign in the toilets and looked though all the little bottles of moisturizer in the basket to the side I hear her come though the door. She presses her back against the main door to the toilets, blocking it and looks right at me, her eyes playful and cheeks flushed from the warmth of the restaurant, or the wine, or what she is about to control. “Remove your underwear mine, bring them back to me at the table. You may keep your tights but spread your lips and smooth them against your clit,” she smiles at me, clearly amused and turns once more leaving the toilets. Oh. Fuck. As I move into one of the stalls my hands tremble as I remove shoes, and tights to get my underwear off. I look around for my bag to put them in. Double fuck, it’s at the table. Hanging them on the little hook at the back of the door I pull my tights back up over my legs, smoothing them out over my thighs and returning my shoes. Leaning against the wall I slip my fingers down inside my tights. I am wet. I am terrified and I am wet. As my fingertips guide my lips apart I press the nylon material against myself. Feeling it scratch the delicate skin with each movement as I run my fingers over the outside to check it is how she wants then debate how to fix the skirt. She can’t see me touch it here, but would likely know so I shake my hips sharply to flatten it out a little. Taking my underwear I fold them into my palm, cursing myself in that moment for my dislike of thongs as I attempt to make the boy shorts as small as possible.

Flushed with embarrassment I move timidly back to the table. Knowing I am aroused makes me think you can smell my excitement. I also realised I have now been gone close to fifteen or maybe twenty minutes. As I approach the table she stands, holding out one hand. She wants them, standing there.. not slipped under the table. Fuck. I am sure my cheeks are crimson by the time I hand them over and move back safely behind the table. I notice the other Lady look at me, a look of amusement. I realized in that instant they know. I sip my water, trying to calm myself. The table had been cleared and a few minutes later deserts arrived. I unsuccessfully scan the table for my underwear.

Keeping my hands steady while I ate was going to be difficult enough. As I felt her left hand move the hem of my skirt upwards on my thigh closest to her while she moved the spoon though the smooth creamy top of the cheese cake, I almost drop my spoon. The spot where her finger moves on my skin feels like it burns intensely. She seems to be drawing patterns on my thigh, along the outside, over the top and down the warmth of my inner thighs over the thin covering of the tights. I can’t help but notice in that moment that he, the he on the other side of the table is saying as little as I am, and her hand is also below the table. I choke on the food in my mouth as I realise the same was happening on the other side. Needing water I swallow, still trying to clear my thoughts which now threaten to spin out of control. Her hand stops moving, well hidden now by the skirt as she leans back on the bench, “I enjoyed that” she smiles, placing the spoon down and sipping from the wine once more. I can no longer eat, all I can feel, focus on is how her little finger curls against one of my exposed lips, though it doesn’t touch it felts like is pressed against my clit as she runs her thumb over the warm curve at the top of my thigh, back and forward slowly. Her hand stays like this, torturing me with being so close, almost touching, in a crowed restaurant.

I have no idea what is said between the two of them during the rest of the time there, but with a slight shift and a tap over my clit with her fingertips I realise we are leaving. Now I knew why I had water. If I’d had wine, I would have cared just slightly less as to who could see, who knew, what was going on. Wine relaxes me and I knew then that she didn’t want me relaxed. I was to feel every bit of this public teasing.

She fixes my skirt for me this time as I stand. I can feel the eyes of an older couple at the table beside us looking. Two women still turn heads in this city. I take a deep breath of the cool night air as we leave, and move a little way along the street to a small bar.

As we wait in line to pay at the door, she pressed her palm into my back and pulls me close, looking into my eyes. I can get lost in her eyes. When she holds me like that, the rest of the world just leaves. She is the only thing there. The pinch against my top, the pulling of my bra so she could find my nipples below it and nip at them was enough to bring me crashing out of the depths of her gaze as I wince, a moan sipping out with my breath as one, then the other perks against the wire, just visible below my top.

As we find a space at the bar I am backed onto a stool, one of those large ones where you have to step up onto it, and she moves back against me, pulling my body snug against hers, my legs parted around her hips from behind her as she places my palms on her belly. I close my eyes, enjoying the contact in the darkened bar where I can relax slightly. As cocktails are ordered and shared she slips an ice cube from her drink, and focuses on me, running her icy fingertips up my belly she is threateningly close to placing it in my bra and I hold my breath as her fingers move once more lower, over my belly before slipping down and pressing it against my tights, holding it below my skirt as it melts against my tights, against my warm clit. I can hardly sit still. As she takes the ice away, only seconds later and slips it into my mouth she laughs, kissing my lips briefly.

I hold the ice against my tongue, sucking while it melts. Watching while she chats, and dances, I can feel how she is becoming more and more excited as the evening passes. I am kept on the stool by the bar, and perhaps twenty minutes later, with a new drink comes more ice. This time she seems more interested in the ice than her drink, and it is placed straight into my mouth. Her voice warms my ear over the music “Don’t let it melt.” I almost laugh at this point, I feel like I’m on fire. How could I not let ice melt in my mouth? But the look in her eyes snatches the laughter from me, and I become aware of her fingertips pulling the band of the tights from my belly and slipping something hard in. With the slight pressure arrives an unmistakable buzzing against my already hard clit. I shift on the stool, my thighs trying to close only to find her hips still between them as I tighten around her. Looking at me once more she takes a second piece of ice and smiles, coyly as she leans forward, “If you can cum mine, before that melts you may. If it melts and you cannot give me back ice then you need to tell me to take it out.” As she turns her back once more to me she guides my body snug against her back, on the edge of the stool as she continues to dance I can feel my body shooting fire from my clit as the dull vibrations torture me. Torn between the desire to orgasm and the shocking awareness of where I am battle within me as I rock my hips forward to her back. Her fingers find mine and link between them as she holds me there. I will get no help from my hands, only the small, battery vibrator as it buzzes against me.

Just as I realise the ice is as good as gone from my mouth the other Lady appears, pressing another cube of ice between my lips, into my mouth. I flood with both shame that she knows, and relief at getting a few more minutes to try as I move closer, and closer.

As I see them watching me I press my face into her shoulder and release. My thighs tighten around her body as I gasp for breath against her hair. My whole body is pulsing and numb as I tremble on the stool behind her. She turns and presses her lips to mine, her tongue slipping between to find the last penny sized piece of ice left. It melts somewhere between our tongues as her fingers retrieve the vibrator once more. As she steps back and returns it to her purse I spot my underwear and she smiles, “I think it’s time for home now my girl.”

First Confession by Anonymous

Some people will never figure out who they truly are, or what will make them happy. In truth, I believe we all know our true nature. Some fight it, some fight to be normal. And some stumble so deeply into themselves, that the truth becomes undeniable to them.

As a young man, there is a certain belief in how one should act. In ways, high school is like prison. They say your first day in prison, you should get into a fight. Show that you are willing to be tough, or become the bitch. In high school, if you show you are weak, you pay for it for the rest of your time there. So I, like many others, spoke a tough game, and never let on there was a voice in the back of my head, wishing to be so much more than a stereo type.

Serious relationships in high school are, for many people, nothing to compare to serious relationships later on in life. Perhaps this is why, in my final year of high school, having just turned 18, I never put a lot of thought into the relationships I developed. The women I met were, of course, gorgeous. But, in my mind, I was off to college the next year, so nothing was permanent. Then I met Kay.

It started off like many young romances do at that age. Talking in the halls between class, passing notes. It seems so cliche, but they are some of the fondest memories I have of that time. A date turned into more. Days to weeks. Weeks to months. We saw graduation together, summer together, into the fall. We were close. Closer than I even realized.

It was a cool fall day when we found ourselves alone. She had a surprise for me. We headed towards the bedroom, and I thought what any other healthy teenager thought. I didn't know things were about to change for me in a very real way.

As we entered the room, she hung back, closing the door. Her voice was strong when she wrote. For those of us who submit, you will know the feeling well. Immediately I felt my heart beat race.

"Hands behind your back, love," she commanded, her hazel eyes locked on mine. Before I realized what I was doing, guided by instinct alone, my hands were behind my back. The sound of metal on metal chimed as she pulled a pair of novelty handcuffs from her purse. They snapped into place, and I found myself at a loss of control. I grinned at her, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"My dear, I do not remember telling you to go to bed. Kneel on the floor." she commanded, although in a forgiving way.

My head tilted in disbelief, but my heart raced still. In the back of my mind, I knew this was what I always wanted. Still, I resisted. My head tilted and I spoke softly. "But what fun is that lover?"

Her response was swift. She climbed over the end of the bed and, pressing her back against the wall, and a foot against my back, pushed me forward. Replaying this moment in my mind, I realize how I could have easily caught my balance and landed on my feet. Instead, using the excuse, I slipped down to my knees. Gingerly, I spun around, facing her. She slipped to her feet and moved towards me.

"I've seen the smile on your face as you do the simpilest things for me," she said in a calm, measured voice. "You delight in opening doors, or getting me a glass of water, or cooking for me. Some would say this the mark of a gentlemen, but you and I both know, based on where you are now, that its much more than that. If I am wrong, I will take the cuffs off. But I don't think I am."

She paused then, and I looked up at her, then back at her feet. My cheeks burned a crimson red, as I weighed the options. In the end, I looked up at her, and smiled. She reached down and cupped my cheek. I remember so well how the coolness of her hand felt on my reddened cheek. Her lips grazed my forehead as she leaned down to whisper into my ear. "I've never had a pet before, but I do know you. We will both learn what this will be. And boy... This is much more than sex."

She was right.

Melville Hallow Part 2 by Eroyan

Mellville Hallow Part 2.

By: Eroyan Barmy

During this time, when William Melville was bedridden and no one had contact with his household, a new family moved into Justine. The Moore’s were a small and tight knit family from just over the mountains. Bob Moore the head of the family had learned that Justine had no paper and intended to begin his own there. He has learned the printing trade and had picked up and moved his wife, Laurel, and there just coming to age daughter Lissa.

Lissa Moore’s arrival caused quite a stir in the town. She became the most eligible and sought after young lady of the day. It seemed that every boy of age and even younger attempted to vie for her attentions as best as they could. Being a pious young lady, she helped with Sunday school at church. It was said she was an angel, being so beautiful and thoughtful at such a young age. Many a mother prayed that she would fancy their boy almost as much as the boys did.

But Lissa was not one to fancy herself with such things. She accepted and politely visited with her callers. But as soon as she could she took to wandering the wilds around town. Even though she had heard the story of the black wolf from Benjamin Tate’s own mouth, she paid it no heed. She wandered all over the land around Justine till many a trapper and hunter considered her an equal to their own knowledge of the area.

What troubled her parents more than anything was they would sometimes catch her coming in or going out of their home very late at night. Her father had forbid her to do so as well as her mother. But somehow she would always be able to get out, even when her door was locked and her window barred. They would sometimes find her in the morning sitting before the heath drinking a cup of tea as if she had done nothing wrong.

It troubled them so badly that they sought the advice of Doctor Samuel Luke, the town’s doctor. After examining Lissa and visiting often to watch her. Doctor Luke could only conclude that she was in perfect health and that she had most likely finally decided on a suitor. Her sneaking out was merely an attempt to have time alone with the young man. As he saw no signs of abuse or any sign of cruelty or mischief he suggested they simply get her to invite her suitor over, so they might help stop the late night behavior.

They did just this but upon requesting Lissa bring over her suitor, she only looked at them curiously and would say there was no suitor. They pressed and prodded but always she denied having one. When flat out asked why she walked alone in the night, when it was most dangerous. She would only mention that there was a swallow pool that looked beautiful in the moonlight just below the Burns Creek Bridge.

For a while all was forgotten. Bob Moore was busy setting up his newspaper and printing out the first editions. Laurel Moore was busy putting together their home. Lissa Moore was still helping with Sunday school and fighting off the eager boys hoping to steal her heart. That is until the day Lissa did not show up for Sunday school. When the preacher asked the Moore’s about the absence of their daughter, they responded shocked and surprised, for she had left before they had for church.

A search was organized right then and there and the men of the town went out in search of Lissa. They found her by the swallow pool below Burns Creek Bridge. Just staring into the water, she did not speak nor resist when they turned her back to town. Doctor Luke could find nothing wrong with her physically and the preacher could not draw a word from her. Her parents fed her and changed her and when she needed to go to the bathroom she got up and went. But it was as if she was living in a daze. She was functional but just not there enough to speak.

Her parents were frantic and sent a letter to a specialist in a far off city to come look at their daughter. He would arrive a day after the full moon. Who know what might have happened. Or would things have been different, if he had arrived earlier.

Bob and Laurel Moore, sat up the night of the full moon as they had for the past two nights watching over their catatonic daughter. Exhausted in body, but more afraid for their daughter they forced themselves to remain awake. Telling each other that tomorrow the specialist would come. Their daughter would be fine then.

They fed Lissa that evening and she ate well, then getting her into her bed clothes they laid her down for the night. Taking up their places in the downstairs living room they waited for the dawn. It wasn’t long after that Laurel Moore looked up and there was Lissa coming down the stairs. She nudged Bob and pointed for she could not speak, she saw something strange in her daughter’s eyes.

Bob stood up and walked to Lissa just as she reached the front door, and started to open it. Bob gently closed it and said a few words to his daughter about now was not the time to go out and with little difficulty led her back upstairs to her room. He returned in a few moments and rejoined his wife in the living room.

Both discussed this odd event for a good while. Lissa had not tired to leave the house since they found her at the pool that Sunday. Laurel was more fearful than ever and mentioned the look on her daughters face. Bob having not seen it was concerned but assured his wife that it was probably just the stress of all they had been through.

They talked more about how better their daughter would be when the specialist comes. They just had to be strong for a while longer. It would not be long now for the moon was full in the sky lighting up the darkness with its silvery light. Husband and Wife talked well into the evening about their concerns and love for their child, neither realized, staying up so long as they had their bodies could only stay awake for so long.

Somewhere between two and three in the morning, Bob Moore awoke with a start for he was cold. The fire had died low in the hearth and he realized he had been sleeping. He looked over to his wife and found her asleep as well with the bible in her lap. He wondered at the cold and looked up to see the front door wide open.

Crying out and causing his wife to jump awake with a start, he ran upstairs and burst into Lissa’s room to find and empty bed. Laurel was soon behind him and they both looked at each other fearful not sure how long they had been asleep. Bob grabbed his coat as they ran back downstairs and picked up his rifle. His wife was frantic and he promised to bring her back, in the meantime she was to fetch the sheriff and the doctor and wait for him here. With that he was out the door and into the night.

Laurel Moore ran to Doctor Luke’s and beat on the door till she had woken up not only the Doctor but one of his neighbors as well. Though a bit upset at being woken at such an early hour, when he learned the reason he dressed quickly and grabbed his medical bag, as the Doctor’s wife tried to console Mrs. Moore. The Doctor’s neighbor also got dressed and got his firearm and all three went to the Sherriff’s home.

They awoke the Sherriff and he told Mrs. Moore and the Doc, to return to the Moore house as they went out to find Lissa and her husband Bob. Reluctantly Mrs. Moore was lead back home by Doctor Luke, as the Sherriff, Doctor Luke’s neighbor and eventually two of his deputies hurried towards the church.

The most obvious place to look first was the pool below Burns Creek Bridge; they hoped to find Bob somewhere close by if Lissa wasn’t there. They hurried out of Justine as fast as they could go on foot; Bob had a good half hour head start on them. There was no telling how far ahead Lissa was. Thank goodness it was a full moon or they would have had a hard time following the trail to the bridge.

The Sherriff’s little band, found Bob’s coat about halfway to the bridge, he must me running like they were and shed it to keep cool. They paused only a moment and ran faster with the knowledge that Bob was thinking like they were. That Lissa was at the pool.

The night was pierced by the sound of a musket being fired. The Sherriff’s party paused again, and then the night was pierced again by a scream that rang and echoed around them. It sent chills down their spines but steeling themselves they ran as hard as they could. The bridge was just around the bend it wouldn’t be long now.

As the Sherriff and his little band rounded the bend what they saw made the night turn into confusion. Doctor Luke’s neighbor dropped his gun and ran screaming back to town. One of the deputies cried out and fired without thinking at what was before them. This caused the other deputy to grab him to keep him from pulling his pistol and shooting more. The Sherriff stood eyes wide and mouth agape at the sight. Before them was Lissa standing calmly drinking what could only be described as the blood of her father as a creature of immense size stood before her. It was knelt on one knee as it was described later, and still came to her head height. It was holding up the body of Bob Moore and had his arm toward Lissa’s lips as the blood ran down it into her mouth. She drank and the look on her face was one of satisfaction and as the Sherriff described it love.

The deputy’s shot made the creature look at them and snarl in a wet guttural croak. Its mouth was huge and it appeared to have no neck. Its skin shimmered and glistened in the moonlight. Its bulbous dark eyes swiveled white pupils towards them. It dropped Bob and stood up towering over Lissa. It took one step towards the party but then Lissa’s put her hand into the creature and it turned back toward her.

Nothing was said out loud but some sort of communication was spoken between the two. It turned and picked her up in its arms, which caused the Sherriff to shout to stop or it would be shot. It ignored them and went to the edge of the bridge. The Sherriff pulled his pistol but in that moment the creature jumped off the bridge with Lissa and they heard them hit the water.

It took them a few minutes before they were able to steel themselves to approach the bridge. They carefully moved around Bob Moore’s broken body and looked over the edge of the bridge into the pool below it. The water was calm and there were no tracks leaving it. The pool was only a few feet deep there was no way that the creature and Lissa could have left it without leaving tracks. But there were none. It was as if the water swallowed them whole and just took them.

They returned with Bob’s body as the sun rose over Justine. They were met by Laurel Moore and Doctor Luke, the neighbor had regained his senses and was coming with them as well. The funeral for Bob Moore was held that day by the preacher it was the last time Laurel Moore was ever considered well. She took the loss of her husband and daughter very badly. She wouldn’t eat or drink unless made too, and would only talk about the look on her daughters face that evening. One of bliss as if someone was getting married.

The women of Justine took turns watching over her, and she got regular visits from Doctor Luke and the preacher. Both got a lot of help with suggestions on her condition from the specialist that did arrive right on time, after the full moon. Mrs. Moore was the pity of the entire town for three months. Everyone doing their part to try and help her in any way they could. During this time the Sherriff himself set up parties to guard the bridge the entire time and word was sent out should someone happen to see Lissa.

Four months to the day, the morning after the full moon, Mrs. Moore was missing from her home. The woman in charge that night had unlocked her bedroom door and found the window forced open. The entire town searched for Mrs. Moore but all they found was her night gown. She just disappeared and evidently in her poor condition walked off naked into the night, and died of exposure in the wilderness.

That’s what they tell people who ask. What they don’t share is this and only a few people know it. The window to her bedroom that was forced open was forced open from the outside, and the place they found her night gown… Well as you might have guess, they found it on the Burns Creek Bridge. What they don’t tell people is when they found it, it was folded neatly and there were a few shimmering scales lying on top.

So Close, So Far Away by Heather

Fingertips are lingering above precious skin. Aching to touch, so close, yet so far away. A heartbeat beating softly, in a steady rhythm, matching the beat of the music that fills the room. There are no words. All there is, is fingertips, a heartbeat, music and her.

She is so close. Her perfume taunting me. The scent slowly surrounding me, but too far away to inhale. She teases with all that she is. Her fingers trace my face, but never touch, I try to bring myself up to her fingers, but my body doesn't respond.

She seems almost scared to touch me. If I could penetrate her mind, I'd see words flowing, sentences building, pictures of the past, frames of still shots, but I cannot penetrate her mind. I know her like the back of my hand. She does not need to speak for me to understand what she is feeling.

Tears are flowing. They escape from beautiful blue eyes, slowly rolling down the now puffy cheeks. I try to reach out, but I cannot move. Frustration builds inside me and my heartbeat grows faster.

We are both in pain. Emotionally and physically, we can't take each other's pain away. We're both fighting out own battles.

The car hit us without any warning. We were laughing as it wrapped itself around her car. The laughing stopped. The silence became deafening. There is no worse sound in the world than silence.

The silence didn't last long. Sirenes, screams, crying, sounds of disbelief filled the air surrounding us. The ambulance comes quick. The police try to keep curious people away from the scene. It is a horrific scene. There is blood on ground, blood in the car, there is blood covering her beautiful face and there is blood gushing from my

body.

I want to get to her, I want to take away her pain, but she is not near me. Her ambulance goes west as mine goes north. My heart breaks as they rip us apart. I want to scream and shout, to tell them to turn around, but I cannot speak nor move.

The white lights are blinding. The doctors seem busy, but in control. They are all bundled up together working on my body, but I feel lonely. I want to be with her. Hours pass by and the tube in my mouth, down my throat feels horrible.

Time passes by slowly. Hours feel like weeks, weeks feel like months. The time crawls as does my skin when they do check-up's. I want to know where she is. I need to know she is still alive. But they don't speak to me. They have given up on me.

She is sitting on the edge of my bed. She looks good. She always does, she has scars, but she is perfect. She breathes, she is alive. Her fingers linger, her heart beats and the music fills the room. I try to smile, I try to talk, but I lay there, motionless.

She gets off from the bed. She is limping, but just slightly. She must be bruised, inside and out. I can't take away her pain, until I take away my own. She grabs a book from the shelf, turns the music down a notch and sits back down on the edge of the bed.

Her hands tremble for a moment as she reaches out for my hand, grasping it in her own. Her voice soft, she starts reading. Words fill the room, they light up my heart. Her tears stop streaming, she giggles at the words she speaks, I know she is remembering, like I am.

Her voice, her touch, they are my healing process and as I heal, so does she. She talks to me, sometimes sweet, sometimes stern. I ache to please her, so I open my eyes. She smiles, "Hello, little girl."

In The Blink Of An Eye by Anonymous

Courtyard Time

He walked in to the Dominion courtyard and quickly fell to his knees. Having only been there a couple times prior he at least knew that boys were required to kneel at all times. It was just passed midnight in his neck of the woods and the courtyard held only a handful of people. There was one presence that overpowered the rest. Not because of Her beauty although it can not be rivaled. It was something else, something much harder to explain. All he know was that this Woman was not to be fooled with.

He had always considered himself a strong man, yet when She addressed him he trembled. Was it that he was caught off guard? no, Her voice, Her tone, Her words, they all shouted control even though she spoke relatively softly. He fumbled with an answer as she calmly followed with another question. Her words flowed smoothly yet cut like a double edged sword. Extracting little bits of information from him while making him aware that he is by no means Her equal.

She slowly and methodically continued the questioning, allowing him to begin to feel comfortable and then quickly push him back down with just a word, or a question that reminded him of his true calling in life, a submissive male. When he made a mistake she had no problem correcting him, and letting him know how foolish he was to make such and error. When he failed to respond as She directed him to, She just responded with, "Thats One". Those words rang in his head long after he left but they were effective as he placed much more focus on his answers and did not forget to reply with the proper respect again.

As the conversation continued She drew more and more personal information from him. Digging out deeper and deeper secrets. Before he knew it he was telling Her things about himself that he had told very few people if anyone. The time flew by as he relieved more and more of himself to Her and then, in the blink of an eye, things changed. He did not even realize until it was too late. She never lifted a finger, never raised Her voice, nor did She need any ropes or chains. Yet he found himself under Her heel. Not physically but mentally Her foot was planted firmly on his neck. She continued to talk to him, no longer with questions, but now with statements, using what She had learned against him. Forcing him down lower and lower, making his body react just the way She wanted it too. Until he was right where She wanted him, right where he belonged, just another boy to do Her bidding.

Walls by Anonymous

For as long as I can remember I have been building walls. Walls for protection. Sometimes my walls crumble faster than I'd like them to. Other people don't like my walls. They cannot get close, there are parts of me they cannot see, because the wall is too high.

I like my wall. My wall is safe. My wall protects me. My wall will never be truly gone. It lowers, it grows, but it is always there, like an invisible bubble, protecting me from harm.

Sometimes people find a hole in my wall. They break an entree. They enter without permission. Nine out of ten times I try to remove them. I want to put them outside my wall, but that one person. That one person knows me better than I know myself. That one person is intimidating, for she often knows me better than I know myself.

There is a whole new wall. I feel like I run into it. Time and time again. But it is not my wall.

Walls don't feel so safe anymore. They feel rotten. They exclude you.

The Bed By Thalia

Sitting in your cage alone, feeling Your Mistress surround you with the bars, you close your eyes.......

"Boy come here!", you hear the voice in a distance, it is Your Mistress beckoning you to Her, you smile, as you have been waiting for this call all day.

You look up She is standing near the door, smiling at you as you approach Her. You reach Her and kneel down infront of Her, looking up at Your Mistress. She reaches down and pats you on the head hello Mine.

You look beyond Her, into a dark room, not sure what to expect, as all you see is the candle near, what seems to be the bed. She walks past you and reaches that spot, you can see Her smile and She beckons you to come near Her.

You reach Her, to see there is a big 4 poster bed and in the middle of the bed is four bounds.

She looks at you and says "Boy remove your clothes and get on the bed"

You scamble to do as Your Mistress bids you, excited and yet unsure what will happen.

You lay on the bed naked, your legs spread wide, as you feel the first click, then the second, the third and the final click. You are locked in, looking up at the smiling face of Your Mistress as She leans over you and gently runs Her hand down your chest towards your bellybutton, stopping at the top of your pubic hairs. You see Her reach over to the table not sure what She is getting, you pull on your bounds aching to see what She has. She continues to run Her finger over the top of your pubic hairline, you feel your cock reacting, getting harder and harder and you can only feel, you can't touch Her as you want too. She brings over a blindfold, as She ties it around your eyes, smiling at you, She lowers Her mouth to yours and bites your lips and whispers in your ear. Mine, are you ready? Ready you think for what? All you can do is feel Her as She teases you. Suddenly, you feel a cold object touch your skin an ice cube, just above your pubic hairline, you jerk up with the unexpected feel of the cold. You also feel your cock oily as She begins moving Her hand up and down slowly, your body tenses as your feel the cold and hot at once, pain, pleasure, a moan escapes you , as you picture Her there over you.. You begin to get harder, aching to move your hips up and down to the rythmn of Her hand. Suddenly, you feel the ice cube touch the tip of your cock your body reacts, with your nipples getting hard, you shiver and moan louder, as you feel the tingling all the way down to your balls. You feel your balls get harder as She begins to play with them, oily, slippery, hot then cold as She applies the ice. You are hard, so hard, you want to cum, but know She has not said you can. She leans towards your ear, Mine do you want to cum for me? You scream in your head Yessssss Please My Mistress May I? You feel hot, cold, hard, on the edge, just alittle more and you will explode. Her hand moves faster and faster, bring you to the point of no return, you are close, it will be hard, you don't want to displease Her. Faster and faster, Her hand moves up and down your cock, hot, cold, oily, wet, you try to move your hips, you are there, close, so close, you can't hold it much more, you want to cum for Her, only Her. You feel your breathe catching in your throat, you want to cum, you need to cum, Faster, and faster Her hand moves up and down, ice, oil, precum it is all mixed together, you don't know who you are, all you want to do is cum for Her.

Suddenly you hear Her voice, Mine, what is wrong with you did you fall asleep?

You jerk at that, looking around, seeing you are sitting at Her feet, and it was..........................

Written by Thalia Pleides

Poem For Confessions By Daniel

The Dominion is full of Ladies,

Many of whom are like Aries,

So confident and strong,

They can never wrong,

And their Daring,

Is second only to their Caring,

And now tis the time of the Subs,

Who work hard to get to the Pubs,

We break our Knees,

Kneeling for the Aussies,

And never ever step out of Line,

Even if it means losing our Spine,

Tis a battle we are happy to Lose,

Though ofcause this is just a Ruse,

We'll put up a Fight,

An' the tinies will take Flight,

Swooping up into the Air,

Taking the war to their Lair,

Though still it is all but Lost,

We simply cannot keep up the Cost,

We try to resist,

But the Ladies Persist,

For they know what we have always Desired,

The very thing for which we are Hardwired,

They can see the Craving,

Deep in our souls we need Saving,

We were born to follow,

Without it we feel hollow,

Tis the Lades who lead to which we are Drawn,

The special one who will bring to our life, a new Dawn.

Melville Hallow By Eroyan

Melville Hallow Part 1.

by:Eroyan Barmy

Melville Hallow has been called many names. Once it was known as Uyoi-Ama by the Cherokee, which means bad water. It was also know as Little White Steed by Irish settlers and Justine when a more established settlement was erected. Eventually it became known as Melville Hallow around the year of our Lord, eighteen fourteen.

William Melville, a wealthy business man from Boston, traveled south for his health. When he arrived at Justine, at this time, he fell in love with the area. For a time he dwelt in a well to do brick building inside the town until he decided to go into the plantation business. It did not take him long to purchase a large track of land along Burns Creek just outside of Justine. It was there he built a large home and purchased slaves to work the land for him.

Most never even pondered on William Melville and his plantation, he was producing crops and making money as they all were. Even if he held the most land for miles around it was taken that Mr. Melville was an upstanding gentleman. He attended Church and save to the needs of Justine and others when it was needed. For the most part, life went on as it had always in Justine. They simply now had a well to do neighbor.

It was around the year of our Lord, seventeen nighty-three, that the first cow was discovered butchered or half eaten. Most just blamed the wolves that roamed the dark forests from time to time, but by the time the number got up to eight in the same month, it was decided something needed to be done. So for several days parties went out to kill as many wolves as they could. It produced fine pelts which gave many a town folk a boost in their wealth.

None was more happily involved in the wolf hunt that William Melville. He and his team of slaves her took with them, were responsible for one hundred and twenty-four wolf pelts alone. That was almost half the entire town eliminated over the summer and winter. It seemed to work for all through the rest of the spring, summer and well into fall; there were no more incidents with butchered or half eaten cattle.

The town relaxed again into a peaceful state of everyday life. The comings and goings were the natural topic of the tavern and after Church gossip. It was October seventeenth, eighteen fifteen when the last of the wolf hunting parties went out into the cold dark morning to check the traps one last time before they would be taken up. What would happen that morning would change Justine forever.

The hunting party traveled from one wolf trap to the other all across the low lands of Justine. As had been the normal routine and practice over the last few months, they found no sign of any wolves during the trips between traps. Nor did they find any wolves in the traps. It appeared the town had finally solved its problem.

The next part of this tale is told in the words of the only survivor of that hunting party. Benjamin Tate was twenty when he traveled with the fateful members of that party and was to be married not more than a week after this last hunt.

“We had just finished checking the trap near Burns Creek. Mr. Robinson had just mentioned that we only had two more traps to check, as we shouldered our firearms. We had only gotten a hundred yards from the trap when the mist from the rising sun began. Suddenly we heard the trap go off. We all looked at each other a moment and wonders had we caught one? It was rare to catch a wolf during the day. So we turned and headed back to the trap expecting to see a rabbit or some other creature in the trap, one that had just wandered in and set it off.

We were almost insight of the trap when we heard the snarling and the trap rattling violently. Amazed that a wolf was out this early in the day and we had caught it surprised us. We were not expecting any trouble as we readied our rifles and came up over the slight right to see the Burn Creek trap. I stood stock still for I had never seen such a wolf before. It was massive and black and thrashed against the cage to escape. Snarling and biting the bars of the cage we could hear the iron squeal in protest of what had to be very powerful jaws. Mr. Robinson raised his rifle, and in that instant the wolf stopped and looked right at him. It shook him a bit and he paused as he aimed.

The wolf drew close to the bars and they bright yellow eyes gazed at all of us in turn. Finally Mr. Robinson fired along with two of the others and I swear they hit the wolf. I swear they hit it. Suddenly after being struck the wolf didn’t cry out in pain it just flinched as it was hit and then grabbed the bars of the cage. I mean it was on all fours then it was like it had hands and gripped the bar of the cage and wrenched it open quickly. The bars just popped right out and the wolf charged.

This caused other members of the party to fire but they were so shaken their shots went wide. Mr. Robinson was reloading when it reached him and rose up on its hind legs. The beast as I shall call it now, for it was no wolf. Towered over Mr. Robinson and slapped the rifle from his hands as Mr. Robinson tried to crack it over the beast’s skull. I was terrified and amazed at its power as it lifted him and with a firm motion brought its jaws and sharp teeth onto Mr. Robinson’s neck. The blood shot red into the morning sunlight and there was the most awful gurgling sound from Mr. Robinson.

The will of our party broke and we all ran for our lives. We got separated each of us running as best as we could back toward Justine. I ran so hard everything burned but I dared not give up my escape. I heard the screams of the others. They echoed through the woods and could hear the howl of the beast as it brought down the others one at a time. I don’t know why it saved me to last, maybe I could run faster than the others. I don’t know, but I knew I was very close to Justine before I heard the sounds of something large chasing me. I only glanced once behind me and saw those very human yellow eyes locked on me as it ran towards me. Sometimes on all fours other on two, I screamed for my life and threw down my rifle and ran as hard as I could. I knew I couldn’t out run it.

I was so close to Justine I could smell the bakers oven drifting along the breeze, I wanted to keep running but I had to slow down the beast or I would never stand a chance. I pulled my pistol and turned suddenly to fire on the wolf hoping to hit its leg and give me enough time to fully escape. When I turned the beast wasn’t there but the forest was deathly quiet. It was then the beast leapt from my right and hit me hard. I could smell the death on its breath as it grabbed my neck and hauled me up choking me as it peered at me and howled again. I trembled with fear and thought I had seen it been shot and never stop I couldn’t just let it kill me as it had the others. I jabbed my piston into its ribs and it looked down and then back up. It was grinning at me! I swear it was. I let out a choking yelp and pulled the trigger.

I don’t know what was different about my pistol or why God took mercy on me and not the other members of the party. But the beast howled in pain for the first time and dropped me. I landed in a heap as the beast grabbed at its chest and I watched blood flow from between its fingers or claws. It snarled at me and then ran off into the forest. I returned to Justine and what we found of the others can only be described as pieces. I keep that pistol will me at all times now, loaded just how I had it on that fateful day. I still bear the mark of the beast on my neck and do not think it will ever fade. Do not ask me on a hunting party I’ve had my fill.”

Benjamin Tate’s pistol that day had been loaded with a ball round that was taught to him by his grandfather. Instead of a total lead in the ball it had been fashioned with a mixture of lead and silver. You may make of this information what you will. But another odd fact many over looked since that fateful day is that William Melville mysteriously came down with an illness that left him bedridden and not accepting any visitors for almost a month after that day.

Mac's Apology To Miss Mo

Dear Miss Mo,

I would like to apologize for my behavior. I've disobeyed your instructions, disappointed you and made excuses to justify my acts. I now understand that I cannot continue in this path of making excuses and justification for my despicable actions. I remember how elated I was when you asked me to be under your consideration, your speculatio as my tag says. I love that word, do you know; partly because it rhymes with fellatio. But more because you know that it arouses me when you look at my curiously, speculating what’s going in my mind, whether I am worthy of your attention or not. There is a certain joy in being speculated, to be an object of your attention. I am remorseful that I betrayed your trust when you asked me to put on my title at all times. How could I not follow such a simple instruction and what does my being comfortable on wearing a tag when you are not around have to do with anything? Nothing. I will oblige with your punishments and follow them until I prove myself worthy. As I knelt naked in the corner of my room, praying for forgiveness, I realized that I do not like to be punished, to be sore in my knees and prevented from moving—it was humiliating. While those 30 minutes felt like hours, I was happy I still had you, Miss Mo, and that meant much more than the pain and frustration I was feeling at the moment. When you did not talk to me for disobedience, I realized how much my actions hurt you as being ignored hurt me. You are right my Lady and you know what’s best. I hope you would take this letter of apology and look at this boy again, with those piercing eyes that speculate, stimulate and much more.

Sincerely,

Macabre

Evangelist By Gia

Kneeling before Her, yes Her. For the person I repent to, is not the god everyone has been deemed to believe throughout the centuries.

I look up to Her as most might look to the heavens.

With curiousness, but never doubtful of what lays beyond the unknown.

The cool steel around my neck is what provides me with reassurance, unlike most who wear a crucifix. This is the only symbol I desire to show my devotion, to display my affection.

Many are curious how I became religious so quickly. How someone could turn this non-believer into an evangelist, it seems rather extreme.

Like anything, it was a journey, one that caused inner turmoil at times. Questioning as I walked the paths that had no certain destination, blind to what laid ahead.

Series of events took place in a matter of months, leading up to the night where I was christened Hers. Details are missing, yes. Much like anything in history, the full story is never known by those who simply read it, but only by those who witnessed it.

I am a devout evangelist and I am not ashamed of what people may think this to be. I wear my symbols proudly, even preaching Her words of wisdom at times.

So I shall leave you with this…

Instead of the father, son and the holy ghost,

It’s only Her in which I’m totally engrossed.

I AM By Lady Brez and Lady Hanna

I AM

by Brez Landar

TO BE READ BY HANNA

i am a QUEEN

yes, i am YOUR queen

I am the northstar without which you are lost

I am your mother and father - I give you life

I am the one you come to for advice an guidance

I am the wisdom in your life

I'm a Bitch I'm a Lover

I'm a child I'm a Mother

I'm a sinner I'm a saint

I do not feel ashamed

I totally wrote that part, girlfriend, don't you look at me like that

I am really really important

and busy too

right now I hardly have time to write this

I have vital correspondence waiting

I have a very high ARC

you are lucky to be able to see me at all really

i have really intimidating furniture

i have really intimidating furniture

oh, yes, my dear, intimidating furniture

and poseballs that make you come before you even right click and sit

oh and my voice - did I mention my voice?

you are getting very sleepy - see??

I am the fanciest cheese you will ever eat, on the rarest cheeseboard

with the best side of jellied quince

I am so very hot that to look at me is to become a melted cheese sandwhich

or "melt"

I am all that

Yes I am

And a side of really pulpy orange juice

let's talk about shoes

i can't help it, we have to take a break to talk about shoes

exquisite italian shoes

comfort, fashion and superior craftsmanship

multiple widths

standard medium/wide widths

a generous toe box area to automatically accommodate a slightly larger forepart of the foot

a moisture-managing insole

i love shoes

you will love shoes

together we will love shoes

our love wlil be blinding

speaking of blinding

If you become blind while looking at me

seek medical attention ASAP

but also, be not afraid

for I will lead you around

with my tremendous powers of dextrousness

and leash tugging

which avoids most of the furniture

most of the furniture

oh, yes, my dear, most of the furniture

uhuh

oh yes i will

for I am

i am your queen

Subjects Of Collars - 9 By Lady Ingwaz

After one week without having any orgasm, his training began, I wanted to see how devoted he was. The week was already a success, I wondered how far he would go for me.

"Ready ," I said. "Now my submissive is adequately prepared to begin his training. Let's see how devoted you are and submissive to your owner."

I sat comfortably in a chair and ordered. "Kneel in the presence of your Owner."

He obeyed without hesitation as I pulled him closer, drawing him in, pulling on the chain from his collar.

"All I ask you today I want you to do without asking me questions. Is that clear?"

He nods.

"I want you to idolize me. You will lick my feet until they are completely wet. Remove my shoes and start. "

So, kneeling in front of me, he eagerly licked my feet. I controlled the movements of his tongue by applying the whip softly on his butt every time the speed was falling. Each lash forced him to thank me for the training. When my feet were completely wet I told him to stop licking and replace my shoes.

"Very good, we will continue the training."

Pulling on the leash I led him to the bedroom, placing him in handcuffs and leather ankle cuffs. I linked them all and again with a chain had him completely immobilized, face to the wall, helpless to the whims of his owner. I started caressing his buttocks and back, and then began to whip them sofly in a very sensual way. With various types of leather whips and paddles, I repeated the gentle caresses before slapping them on his body. After his moaning showed me how his skin was on fire I released and forced him to his knees. I told him my shoes were hurting my feet and instructed him to remove them again. I handed him a pair of silk black stockings, keeping him on his knees, he dressed me. I said I wanted to have my legs and feet kissed and worshiped. Standing over him, with my whip in his face, I told him "A job may be rewarded, otherwise you will be punished."

He licked with devotion every part of my feet and every inch of my legs over the silk stockings. I however, showed my dissatisfaction, telling him to continue kissing them until the tops of my stockings, and severely reprimanded him:

"Mine! I said you could just kiss my legs and feet! You will be punished!"

He said with a weak voice, " I ... obey you ... my ... Owner ," answering in a voice choked by the fear of disappointing me.

Not completely satiated, I put rings on his penis keeping it erect as if hypnotized by the training. "I want you to remember love, if you cum without my permission you will regret it deeply ."

I brought him back to the living room where I forced him to lay down on his back. Stepping up to him, with foot on his chest, I demanded that he lick the soles and toes of my feet again, with my foot now covering his face. After he was done, I passed another chain through his handcuffs at the same time linking him to a table leg nearby. I sat on his face, my pussy very wet and I could see how strongly aroused he was. I rubbed my thong covered clit in his face, moaning with pleasure. After a few minutes I lifted myself up, removed my panties and sat back on his face. He almost exploded with lust. His lips sucking my nectar and sliding in my clit, leaving me trembling with desire. And so I enjoyed him, digging my nails into his chest. Still after a brief period, I wanted to feel even more pleasure.

I unlocked the chain, releasing him from the table leg, telling him to stand up, pulling him to lick my breasts, to awaken my flesh with his mouth. As his passion overtook his lips and tonuge, I pushed him to his knees, driving him to lick and kiss my buttocks, anus and vagina. Pulling on his collar, I steered his face to drive his tongue over my body. Writhing with his attention I quickly I reached two orgasms, one after the other. I could see that his cock was almost ripping the rings that held his cock. With great sacrifice I noticed that he could control himself, but I asked:

"Do you want to come mine? Do you want that?"

With that he nodded his head yes. So I went up to him, released his penis and pulled the rings. I squeezed softly his testicles and began to fondle his anus. The contact of my fingers around his rosebud produced a strong erection: his penis, swollen, throbbing. Noticing his reaction, I accelerated the caresses and inserted my index finger deeply. He began to experience an overpowering sense of pleasure that left him numb. So, I inserted my finger through him, he could not resist, his jerking and thrusting uncontrolable as he came hard. Smilling, I told him to lick up all of his spilt juices as I tuned and left the room.

I left him for about thirty minutes naked on the floor, awaiting my return. When I came back I grabbed his collar, drawing him up on his knees in front of me. Looking at him, I told him how I was very satisfied with the first phase of his training, and went on to remind him, that as I had said, good performance would be rewarded.

Then, pulling him close to me I said: "I'll let you lick my pussy, mine!"

Kneeling at my feet he licked, kissed and sucked my pussy with desire, moving on to worship my buttocks and my anus, leading me to another orgasm. He was still horny and his cock was showing a new and intense erection. Mindful of his excitement, I returned to get a strap-on. When he looked at me putting on the strap-on he already knew what to expect. Grinning I pulled him close and asked:

"And so, do you think this reward is the size you deserve?"

"It's more than I deserve, my Owner..and tha...."

I did not let him finish his sentence, and put the six inch phallus into his mouth.

I demanded that he lick the cock, inserting it deeply into his mouth, almost suffocating him, making him gag. While he could see my pussy getting wet leaving him completely intoxicated and excited. I held him there while he strained to take it all in.

I pulled out, and went to pick up new rings, placing them around his penis, tellling him I would consume him.

"These rings will fit your cock snugly when it's hard. If your penis get soft while I'm having sex with you and the rings fall off, you will be punished for it."

I released his hand-cuffs and got him on all fours. Commanding him to open his buttocks and I pressed forward against him, starting to press into him. But the penis was very thick and would not slide into his ass. So I picked up some lubricant oil, and after having lubricated his anus, I tried again. Only after three attempts did I manage to stick the head of the penis in. I noticed that his cock was getting soft, and could sense his fear of the rings falling down. Unmoved, I kept penetrating slowly inch by inch, with that strap-on, finally burrying it completely inside of him. His ass was completely taken. With every movement in and out he felt that cock grazing inside him. Accelerating the pace I started to see the pleasure invading his body: his swollen cock, now throbbing with desire. Driving the strap-on in stronger and deeper, the rings gripped his penis tight until I saw it explode with pleasure.

I told him that we would conduct further training regularly, and this would now be part of his life.

That was just the beginning, his training continued.....