Saturday, November 26, 2011

Airport by Angelo

He arrived in Houston right on time. He had never been there before and was not only excited to look around, but to see her again. It had been several weeks and between the phone calls, emails and his nightly "homework", He had worked himself into a sexual frenzy.

She had sent him emails every day requiring him to take himself to the peak of passion, but not to go over the edge. He was frustrated and in a state of constant arousal just waiting to explode.

He made His way through the throngs of people searching for their loved ones. Only sparing slight glances at the many husbands waiting on wives and children waiting on parents, as He continued on his own quest. He saw Her patiently waiting with her arms crossed over her chest beyond the crowd. She had a quiet smile touching her lips and softening her sometimes stern features. As He approached her, she held out her arms to envelope him. This was one of the things he missed the most. Her embrace always made him feel safe and protected. With one final squeeze, she released him and took his bag.

Taking his small hand into hers, she led his away from the airport to her waiting car. It was almost midnight and the garage was eerily silent and dark. He quietly followed her as she walked purposefully through the parking garage. They had been walking for awhile and he wondered how far away she had parked. She had yet to speak to him so he simply respected the silence keeping quiet too.

They had finally reached the car. It was parked in a dark quiet corner of the garage. She released His hand, opened the trunk of the car and deposited his small suitcase. She then turned around and took His hand again. Pulling him to the area between the wall and the car, she leaned his back against the car and took his mouth. It started as a soft, gentle, almost tentative kiss. When he boldly wrapped her arms around her neck and turned it into something searing, passionate, needy, and wild she allowed him this knowing it was his last display without her permission. It was a kiss that in itself was as hot as two naked bodies writhing in desire.

She slowly pulled his arms from around his neck. Without a word, she turned him in her arms so that he was facing the car. She placed his hands on the top of the car. She whispered into his hair "Don't move your hands and open your legs for me". He was already hard and wanting her to fill him…her voice almost driving him over the edge. He opened his legs. The shorts he wore hiding nothing from her reach without the barrier of boxers. Reaching around him, she slid her hands under his shirt. She took his hard nipples between her fingers and rolled them into hard peaks. He moaned in the silence of the garage then looked up quickly to make sure no one was watching. She flicked and played with his hard little nipples. He ground his rear into her hopefully wet panties she played with his tits. Squeezing his nippels hard one last time…She removed her hands and lifted his shorts. Pleased that he had done as he was told, he found no boxers when he got there.

Suddenly both of their heads shot up. Someone was coming. He silently placed her hand on his back. He stilled, keeping his hands as She had placed them. She stood beside him but left his shorts pulled down. A part of him hoped he would be seen in this position. He had always been a bit of a closet exhibitionist and he loved showing off his perfect little prize. The smiling couple came closer. Neither Augeson nor Miss Grace moved. Both just stood waiting…he with his head down and she, tall and smug. The approaching couple seemed to have some idea that something was going on but made no attempt to say anything. They got into their car and pulled away.

Miss Grace turned back to Augeson. She smiled seeing that despite his obvious embarrassment, he never moved his hands. He deserved a reward. She slid her hand over his round ass. She pulled her hand back and slapped him hard on his perfectly ivory skin. The sound resonated throughout the garage. His breathing became heavier in the silence. Bringing her hand to his mouth, She stuck out her tongue and licked her large hand. Bringing it back again, she brought it back down on his firm ass. He winced from the sting but loved every second of it. Sliding her hand down, she found him hot and thobbing…He was so ready for her.. She went into the trunk and opened up Her Suitcase grabbing a medium sized strap on. When She finally slid into him, he groaned with pleasure and pain. She took his hips into her hands and drove hard into him. She could tell that he was in alot of pain, but enjoying it aswell already. Knowing that they could get caught at any moment, She fucked him hard and fast. It excited her knowing that they could be seen. It excited him that he was her's…to do as she pleased. And it excited her that she could turn him into jello with just a touch. She whispered into his ear again "cum for me my little slut…cum all over yourself". Her voice was just what he needed as she felt him orgasm pushing him up and over. He bit his tongue trying to keep himself from being too loud as the warm cum spilled out of his cock. She found herself thuroly pleased. She placed her forehead on his back as she tried to catch her breath. Slowly they both came back to earth together. He smiled as she pulled his pants back up and pulled up her pants. As she opened the door for him, he worked his pants to cover and protect her car seat.

The drive to her house was pleasantly filled with talk and laughter. What a great three days it was going to be…

For The Goddess Of Life by Anonymous

long distance swimmer

you abandon your vessel without taking a breath

transforming as you slip in to the bottle glass

you become a many armed goddess

a mythical sea creature

fins flashing gold in the water

you lift mirrors and little trays of offerings

a bird flies from your hand

you watch unconcerned as your boat melts in to the horizon

you don't think of drinking water and life preservers

instead you look to the other solitary sailors

dotting the water like tiny floating candles

they are curled up in the bows, clutching their buoys

you circle and sing your songs


yet knowing that you too may drown

Tarquin's Confession by Wheels

I keep coming back. Femdom draws me back every time. I wonder why, often. I think about everything, often. I had no idea I would be into this.

I figured out one thing. Femdom seemed in every way superior to male dominated D/s, not only because of personal preference, but just because it was somehow better. I couldn't say how. But if we believe in equality of the sexes, how can we say one form of D/s is better than the other? I guess it's because of the society we live in. Female domination is not the norm. The norm is to frown on it. I've never been interested in the norm.

But my attraction to femdom isn't about being a rebel. And it's not just about sex, or a kinky thrill. Though I wouldn't begrudge anyone any of those things. There's something profoundly right about femdom. I don't mean politics, of course.

I want to confess something. I don't know if I can be a sub. I have tried. I've had some experiences of that extraordinary feeling which I think is what people mean by 'sub space'. But I know the commitment true subs make and true dominants make. And I really don't know if I can do it. It conflicts with a lot of things going on in my RL.

In RL, I'm moody, selfish, opinionated and insufferably obstinate and stubborn. I know others will admit to having non-subby qualities like those but, friends, I'm a really bad case!! You might find it strange that someone like that would be drawn to submission at all. I'm not sure I understand it either. But there you have it. I don't know if I can be a sub in anything but in quite a superficial way. That's my confession. If you want the kinky details, I like to be tied up, gagged and screwed like a girl.

Service Submissive by Raiven

He knew what she looked like even though he was not permitted to look at her. He remembered details of every opportunity he had to steal a glance that night. He knew she had jet black hair, which she wore over her left shoulder, and was roughly mid-shoulder in length. He knew her complexion was dark, flawless and olive, a very medetaranian apperance.

The boy was kneeling before her, naked save for a simple black collar and a steel birdcage chastity device. His heart racing as fast as it was when he first got assigned to her for the evening.

Swallowing hard and trying to control himself, the boy concentrates on his posture as taught. His back is straight with wrists crossed in the small of his back, his knees spread wide, his chest pushed out, his chin raised high but his eyes lowered to her spotless, knee-length boots.

Hearing the conversation around him as Ladies chat and enjoy themselves, a sharp noise brings his attention suddenly back to the Lady. The chinking sound of a sharp nail being tapped against a tumbler. Knowing this is his cue the boy's eyes rise, moving up to the breathtaking sight of the Lady he serves. His mind desperatly trying to steal yet more details of her before his gaze must drop again.

Uncrossing his wrists to bring his hands to his thighs, flipping them palm up as he moves from 'Rest' to 'Attention'. Once settled for a moment he brings his right hand up and places his index finger to his lips, the way he is to ask permission to speak.

The slightest nod from the Lady is enough to grant it. Lowering his hand he very respectfully says; "Thank you for the permission to speak Miss....This boy humbly requests if he may have the honour of refilling your bacardi and coke with no ice Miss?", another nod from the Lady with her silky voice muttering a; "Yes boy".

Carefully he takes the tumbler and pushes to his toes, staying low and backing away for three paces before turning and rising to his full height to walk to the bar. His vision lowered still as he passes other Ladies.

Once he is behind the bar the used tumbler is placed in the dishwasher and he selects a clean one from the shelf. Turning it in the light, he scrutinizes it for the slightest imperfection that would deem it unworthy of a Lady. Finding none, the tumbler is rinsed thouroughly to rid it of any accumulated dust and dried using a fresh tea towel.

Working quickly yet efficiently, the boy adds the measure of bacardi and then adds the coke, smiling as he hears the fizz. Cradling the tumbler in both hands he makes his way back to the Lady, again his gaze lowered and with a smile on his face.

Melting to his knees before her, the tumbler is brought up the axis of his body. Stopping at his face to add a single kiss to the base of the tumbler in respect to her, the tumbler is lifted high above him and into her reach. His voice again singing of respect he quietly says; "Thank you for the honour of allowing me to serve you Miss".

Finally, as the tumbler is lifted from his hands he finishes the serve by bowing forward on all fours and places a soft kiss to each of her boots. Smiling inwardly at being made useful, the boy moves back to sit on his heels again, his wrists cross in the small of his back. He know what she looks like, but all he is permitted to look at are her boots.

The Monster Lurking Amongst Us by Lady Tora

The Monster Lurking Amongst Us

There is a monster lurking amongst us. You can’t see it, smell it, touch it or even taste it but it is always there. Always hiding in the shadows waiting for the chance to strike. One of the scariest things about this monster is that it doesn’t strike without warning usually. There are signs and clues right up to the moment it happens. What is this monster you wonder? The monster is violence, specifically violence against women and the most disturbing fact is that it touches everyone’s life in some shape or form. No one is immune to it.

Nov 25 is the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. To mark this day, my confession tonight is to share how the monster has personally touched my life. I will warn you that this is a bit graphic and disturbing but I feel the need to tell the story, to acknowledge the monster.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was Saturday, a regular afternoon summer day and it seemed like nothing special. I had gone grocery shopping with my mother and we were on the way back to my place, casually chit chatting about this and that. My cell phone buzzed letting me know that I had an email or an instant message of some sort. It was a message from my best friend who lives in another city and it was a picture. I waited for it upload and once done, I stared at the small screen trying to figure out what she had sent to me. It was obviously a picture of herself but because of the sun, the small screen, etc, I couldn’t quite make out fully what she was showing me and why. My phone buzzed again and the text of her message made it crystal clear.

“Tora, Shane beat me up last night. I am hurt pretty bad.”

My heart stopped, before kicking into high gear, my breathing becoming laboured. The fear that rushed through me was almost crippling. Trying to remain calm I told my mother to hold on a second, I had to phone Ellen. I struggled to type in her phone number and I am sure I held my breath as I waited for her answer. The voice that came on the line was quiet and not full of its usual life. My heart continued to pound as I asked her where Shane was, praying she was going to say that he was in jail. She informed that she had not told anyone but me including the police. I argued with her, demanding why; giving her the points that he could do it again to someone else if she didn’t report it, if she was this hurt, she needed medical attention, etc. The tone in her voice made my blood run cold with a new surge of fear. She was quiet, calm, very much the opposite of your usual passionate, animated self as she explained that it was over and she was not going to let anyone else know what happened. She wanted to stop thinking about it, heal and carry on with her life.

At this point we had reached my place and I told Ellen that I would phone her back in a few; I had to bring the groceries into the house, etc. I ended the call and the flood of emotion that I tried to keep dammed spilled over. Tears flowed down my face. I cried for the pain that Ellen had just been subjected to. I cried for my inability to be there for her physically. I cried for my frustration of her not reporting the incident and getting the help she needed. I cried for the fear that this incident had changed my friend; that she would not return but stay withdrawn. She had been through so much in the last few months with her father’s death, issues with her condo, and problems with work; I was afraid that this was the final blow. My mother sat with me silently as I cried before asking me what exactly was wrong. I told her that Ellen had been beaten up and she was refusing to see a doctor, refusing to have the police involved. My mother was quiet for a moment or two before saying that if Ellen didn’t want help, there were only two options. I could report the incident myself or I could accept that she wasn’t going to and just be there for her as much as I could. I wiped my face and sighed. I could only go with option two I told her. I didn’t know Shane’s last name, I had no idea where he lived or worked. Doubt that Ellen would fork over that information now. I could have the police go to Ellen’s condo but what if she didn’t answer the door? Not like they would break it down without having justified cause; she was not in danger now. We both sat there for another silent moment, letting the consequences of option two sink in.

“Well the hell with that.” I growled. “Will see what I can get out of her when I talk to her again.” My mother nodded, knowing that I would not resolve myself to option two without a fight. I was determined to get her to report the incident or at least give me enough information that I could report it. We took in the groceries and my mother left. I sent my son downstairs to watch TV in his room and I went into my bedroom, closing the door to call Ellen again.

Again I started with the interrogation, demanding that she report the incident, see a doctor. I pleaded with her to at least tell her sister who lived in the same city. I could not be the only one who could know about this; she needed to tell someone who could get her help. In that chilling calm, distant voice she told me the extend of her injuries. She was covered in brusies pretty much from her neck down from where he had kicked and hit her with his fists. She had bruises on her neck where he tried to choke her. She couldn’t move her shoulder because it had swollen so badly; a goose egg had formed and she nearly passed out from the pain the last time she tried to raise it. He had thrown her against the counter in the kitchen.She had cut marks on her neck and shoulders from where he had held a knife to her throat and threatened to kill her. Surprisely he had not touched her face. She told me she had not slept yet because it hurt to lie down. She had just sat in the chair she was in, working up the nerve to call me.

As I listened to her, the fear and sadness I first felt, was burned away with the surge of anger that now inflamed me. I wanted to find Shane, make him pay for what he had done. What was the saying? I wanted to saddle the horses, round up my posse and string this man up from the nearest tree. I wanted to hurt him, make him feel every blow he had inflicted on Ellen. He was lucky I thought that he didn’t live in the same city as me, that he wasn’t just a drive away. I closed my eyes and muted the phone as I growled so that Ellen would not hear me. I sat breathing in and out of my nose slowly, trying to calm myself. Getting angry and wanting revenge would do nothing for Ellen. In fact, it would make me just as bad as him. How could two wrongs make a right?

I unmuted on the phone and pleaded for her to go to the hospital. I was worried that her shoulder was broken, maybe some cracked ribs. She refused saying it was over, she was done. She was not reporting it, she was not going through it again with the doctors, police, and eventually court. She just wanted to heal and move on. She told me that she was worried about hiding it at work; it was August afterall and people were going to notice her wearing a turtleneck. I said people would notice and wonder, maybe she should stay home. She said she had booked off that day already and because she was not paid for being off, she couldn’t afford it. I said then go to the hospital and get them to say you need time off; you get paid when you have to be off for an extended medical leave. She again refused. She didn’t want anyone to know. She kept repeating that she just wanted to move on, it was done.

I sighed, sad again that she felt like so many other victims of violence; shameful, wanting to forget, hide, pretend it hadn’t happened. But I wasn’t going to let it just go at that; I was her best friend and had been so for over 10 years now. If I didn’t at least try and push her to say something, than I was not really her friend. I threatened to call her mother and she simply stated she can’t know. She could not tell her mother; have her mother upset so soon after her father’s death. Fine, I agreed but she needed to tell her sister. She worked in the medical field and she would at least be able to assess her injuries; plus she lived in the same city. I said I would feel better if her sister knew since she was nearby and could be called easier than me if something else happened. She refused that too. NO ONE was to know.

She said she was tired and was going to hang up to try and sleep. I made her promise to phone me later. After hanging up the phone I sat thinking about my options. Should I attempt to phone the police? Should I call her sister or mother? Should I risk our friendship by telling her secret? I resolved that I would honour her wishes at least for now and not tell anyone else. I did manage later on to convince her to tell her sister and all of three of us have kept the secret until today.

You can judge that I failed her by not trying to attempt to report it but in the end, I feel that I was the better friend by proverbially holding her hand and listening to her. You did not hear the sheer desperation in her voice when she begged me not to tell anyone. It broke my heart to hear her like that; how could I betray her trust? I knew that if I had told anyone, our friendship would be over. Would you risk it?

Believe me, I am not happy that she did not report it and I tried for a week after she told me to talk her into it; but as my mother pointed out, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. I was passionate about this topic before Ellen and I will continue to be passionate about it now even more. It is because of this passion that I am acknowledging the monster lurking amongst us. If by some chance someone listening or reading this and in a similar situation realizes that he/she is not alone and finds the courage to get help, than what happened to Ellen was not in vain. Each time we acknowledge the monster, it is less likely to strike again.

The End

Windows by Andy

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

A Misstep by An Anonymous Domme

A Misstep

I came into the courtyard one day to see a boy scrubbing the wooden floor behind the courtyard. He was talking in voice and as soon as I heard it I just knew I wanted to get to know him.

I Im'd him and he pleasantly responded. We talked a bit back and forth and I learned he had just gotten out of a long term D/s relationship which ended badly.

The more we talked the more I liked him. We got on well and had a lot in common.

I brought him back to my house to play greedy. I LOVE greedy and I had been wanting to play. He played really well so we played for a long time and talked.
I really liked him and I was looking for another boy. I asked him to the dance that night. He said yes. I asked him if he had a tux and he said no. I showed him a few places and asked if he had enough Ls to buy it. He said no. So I offered to buy it for him. I don't usually buy things for subs I barely know, but he just seemed so nice and sincere.

We went to the dance and it was fabulous. He was the perfect gentleman and we talked a lot about what we both expect from a sub/Mistress. Everything matched up.

I am not a fan of jumping into a collar, but I have heard stories like Jade and Bish's where the collar was quick and they have "lived happily ever after".

We started talking about ownership and a consideration period. The longer we spoke (it was a long dance!) the more it because clear he was PERFECT. He seemed as enthusiastic as I was and we talked about collaring in...right there. It was an enthusiastic YES on both sides.

I set some tasks for him and the next day he had them all done. I was so happy. I spent the whole morning with him, taking him shopping, helping him with his avatar and organizing his inventory and his profile.

He had on a tag from one of the stores we went to and I asked him to change it back to the "Serving Miss so and so" tag. He hesitated.

He then informed me he felt we had moved too quickly.

He took it back about 2 seconds later, but I felt crushed. I had invested time, money and more importantly my feelings in this boy and he had crushed it.

I hadn't seen it coming. I know better now.

The Boots by Leasha (For Miss Destiny)

For Miss Destiny.

A pale hand extends, reaching threw the ever darkening room, endlessly groping in a panicking reach.
A sickening desperate, scared feeling caressing against my stomach, laying in the gloom my hand extended reaching for the someone, not there.

The creaking pipes echo my fear, twisting and turning in the darkness as I lie behind the cold steel bars of my confined space. The basement walls creek with hidden life hidden beneath the trap door. I hear it, an all knowing, and tell-tale click clack of a stiletto heel against hard wood. I hesitate sitting completely still, my ears pricked listening for the slightest sound, my heartbeat echoes in my ears as I strain so hard to hear.

Breath catches in my chest, a faint glimmer of light slithers its way across the cold cast concrete stairs that lead down to my home. The door creeks slowly open flooding the dark space with a warm glowing light.
My thighs tingle, electric waves caress my skin, as I shudder against the bars, clad in nothing but my bare skin, my thighs parting pressing forth my dampening pussy. The slight sound of her heels is enough to stir a deep wanting within my soul and thighs.

Clip clop, a long black leather boot appears at the base of the stairs, my eyes gaze fleetingly at the creased leather, head bowed to the metal bars, I see only her feet. My breath quickens, click clack, as she dawns closer still, shivers cares my skin as goose bumps betray my tense state of excitement. My eye line never rises above her boots, soft shiny leather glistening against the harsh concrete floor of the basement.

A tap to my head, I know what to do, cold, pale hands massage down my inner thigh, sliding my thighs apart displaying my glistening cunt for her pleasure. I feel my nipples hardening to a painful tightness, straining to reach out towards the Mistress of the shoes. A second tap to my head, I spread my thighs further still, pressing my entire body tightly against the bars, hungrily displaying my long curvatious body, eager to please. Hard full nipples atop luscious breasts, heave with anticipated breathes awaiting the next tap.

It comes a moment later the final tap, my fingers massage along my inner thigh, brushing over the outer lips of my swollen cunt, teasing back the flesh exposing the secret gateway to my pleasure. Tap tap my finger enswirls my hard little nub, coated in a glistening wetness built up from my anticipation of this moment. I touch only briefly, just the way instructed to, the short touch enough to send wave after wave of animalistic pleasure coursing through my body. I grind an moan with each fleeting touch of my clit, ravishing myself for her pleasure, back arching as with each touch my intensity increases. Until I feel it, the tug, that long awaited tug. My body release in a wave of intense moans and groans, tensing as I display my released orgasm just for her.

I collapse to the floor, drained off all my energy, the pent up frustration released in one long gush, I lie reserved to await the next time those boots travel into the basement.

The Promise by Anonymous

If Miss Destiny is present please have her read this, Thank you.

~The Promise~

A smile played across her lips – tonight was the night. She had instructed her submissive, Allen, to be a good boy and cleanse himself thoroughly. All week he had been using a regimen of broths and colon cleansers she had given him. He knew this meant something special was happening tonight and she could feel his excitement through the phone. She could tell he had lots questions he was itching to ask, but he remained the good boy she had trained him to be and he held his tongue. Instead he said “yes Mistress, I will be ready” and she hung up the phone.

She busied herself around her home, not really very much left to do before the visitors would arrive later that evening. Allen had bustled here and there throughout the week, prepping her home, cleaning every nook and cranny. All that was left was to instruct the caterers and set up the bar to her specific specifications.

Allen arrived at her home, right on time, 3 hours before the guests would be there. “Good evening my Mistress” he cooed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. She chuckled and had him follow her to the palatial bathroom in order to assist her in getting coifed and ready for the events to come. He drew a warm bath for her, then proceeded to untie her loose fitting robe, letting it drop to the ground. His intake of breath caused her to smile, knowing her ample curves and soft milky skin never ceased to create a reaction and judging by the tent in his trousers, tonight was no exception. She couldn’t resist the tease, tracing a well manicured finger along the outline of his shaft as he moaned ever so softly. He held out his arm, knowing better than to touch without permission, as she allowed him to assist her into the warm, sudsy bubble bath.

Allen knelt by the edge of the tub, taking the hose from the faucet and turning on the water as she leaned her head back for him to shampoo her long auburn tresses. He was so gentle, massaging her scalp and taking his time with her hair to the point she nearly fell asleep. Just before that could happen, he rinsed her hair and grabbed the washcloth on the side of the tub, liberally squirting body soap into it. He took a long deep breath, enjoying her signature scent of cherry blossoms before running the cloth over her creamy skin, biting his lip as he raised each arm, tenderly washing every inch of his Mistress’s skin. He watched as her nipples perked up at the lavish attention he paid to them, taking more time than was absolutely necessary in the process, but hoping to get some kind of reaction from her – a sigh or a moan. She had such control, not just over him which was obvious to anyone watching, but over herself as well. She gave no sign that anything he was doing was making a dent in her perfect façade.

Allen continued bathing his Mistress, his last stop her well trimmed pussy. He badly wanted to make her react, hear her gasp and moan from his touch so he couldn’t resist the temptation to slide a finger deep in her perfect well and a thumb across her clit. He glanced at her face, waiting ,and was rewarded with a scolding look, her eyebrow raised in annoyance. He quickly stopped, hating to see that look on her face, knowing she was disappointed in him. It was his life to please her in every way, take care of her, and serve her every wish and whim, so when he saw that look he felt awful and severely chastised. She never had to raise a hand to punish him, that look was always enough. That is not to say she didn’t from time to time, enjoy a more unique form of punishment when he had crossed a line, but he knew he deserved each time she did as she was always fair in her dealings with him. Nothing was ever a surprise; he knew his place and all of her expectations so very well.

The bath quickly ended as she stood up and departed without his assistance. He grabbed her fluffy towel, wrapping her beautiful body in it as he proceeded to dry her off, this time not giving in to his desires to touch every inch. She stepped into her robe, hiding away her luscious skin from view. She dismissed him with a scathing look and worked on the rest of her preparations alone. “Boy, go into my bedroom and kneel by the bed. Do not move from that spot until I call for you.”

“Yes Mistress” was his only reply. He knew he had messed up and in the process lost the opportunity to pamper and dress her himself. He was kicking himself as made his way to her bed.

Allen knelt for what felt like an eternity, waiting to hear her lilting voice call for him and when it finally came, he sprang to his feet and like a flash was at the door of her boudoir. He stopped in his tracks, unable to move let alone think. She was stunning as she stood there in her deep amethyst colored gown, her hair in a perfect French twist with ringlets curling softly down her neck. He flushed when he saw the sweet diamond heart necklace he had purchased for her as her only jewelry, feeling giddy down to his toes that she loved him enough to wear it in front of so many of her friends. In her hands was a suit she had purchased for him and handed it to him. “Come inside and strip. This is the suit I want you to wear for tonight. Do not button the top two buttons.” He did as he was told, her eyes never leaving his body as his clothes fell to the floor and he stepped out of them. Before dressing he took the time to pick them up and fold them neatly, as had become his habit.

Mistress watched with intense pleasure as he obeyed her every word. His fine, muscled physique created a stir deep within her, but he would never know it. For her, it was all about control and she wouldn’t dream of giving him even a glimpse of what she did not wish him to see. She watched as his muscles rippled when he bent to pick up his clothes and as he put on the tight leather thong that went with the suit. After Allen had dressed, his Mistress handed him a small felt box. “Open it, baby boy.”

“Of course, Mistress” he replied as he took the box and opened it to find the most stunning pair of cufflinks he had ever seen. “Oh Mistress, they are beautiful!” he exclaimed as he rushed to put them on. He fumbled several times before she took each one from his grasp and expertly placed them for him. She tugged on his shirt and pulled his head down where she could brush her full lips against his.
“You are most welcome, baby boy. This is a very special day after all and I wanted you to look your best.” She smiled one of her brilliant smiles that took his breath away as he melted right in front of her, his heart brimming over with love and adoration for this exquisite woman in front of him.
The doorbell rang a soft silvery chime. “Oh! Our guests are arriving. Please go down and greet them, I will be along shortly.”

“Yes Mistress” he replied and off he went.

Several more guests arrived and were standing or sitting about the parlor, sipping wine and snacking on the sumptuous hors d'oeuvres presented to them by scantily clad serving boys when Mistress glided down the stairs to gasps of OOOoo and ahhhh. She strolled about the room greeting each person by name and thanking him or her personally for coming to this very special occasion. About 45 minutes into the evening, Mistress asked for everyone’s attention, realizing everyone invited was there. She asked them to have a seat anywhere comfortable as the ceremony was about to begin.

Allen was elated as he moved to the center of the room, the pianist and cellist playing a gorgeous arrangement of soft classical music written just for this moment. He watched as his beautiful Mistress joined him and took his hand. She didn’t have to say a word, he knelt in front of her, head bowed in respect and admiration for this woman. She lovingly placed her hand on his head, stroking his hair.

She addressed the guests seated in the room. "On this day, you, our friends and loved ones, have gathered to witness the unity of our love and the binding of our hearts together. We have chosen to share this with you to show the magnitude of our commitment to one another."

Mistress looked down at her boy, placing a finger under his chin and raising his head to look at her. "Allen, the day we met was a life changing event for me. I knew the moment I laid eyes on you, you would be mine. On this day I give you all that I have and all that I am - my heart. I pledge to be yours only, never to give this precious gift to another. I will guide you through our lives together, always honoring the trust you have placed in me and never willingly break it. You are a jewel, the brightest one I own, and you never cease to amaze me. I love you will all that I am." A tear dropped from her porcelain cheek and onto his.

Allen started up at his mistress, dumbfounded by this moment of vulnerability she was showing not only to him, but to all who were watching. He clasped his arms around her waist and buried his head into her tummy. After a few moments, he looked up at her. She cupped his head in her hands as he spoke.

"My darling Mistress, it is you that I love, and only you. On this day I willingly give you my complete submission. No one else may guide me as I trust totally in you. You have proven over and over again how much you love and care for me, not in words, which are so easy to say, but in actions. You complete me, make my heart full and whole. You bring my life utter joy and happiness and it is in you I have found the other half of my soul. I promise to put your needs above my own, to love you throughout all of lifes ups and downs. I am yours, and yours alone."

Mistress smiled down at Allen and placed the collar around his neck, both hearing the click of the lock which made him hers in so many very real and tangible ways, symbolic of their unity and love. She had tears in her eyes as she leaned down, kissing him soundly and completely. She whispered in his ear "you are mine and I am yours, now and forever"

The room began applauding, having felt privilidged to witness something so personal and special between the couple. Allen rose to his feet and the couple began circulating around the room, accepting congratulations for the beautiful moment. Guests began milling about enjoying the available food and drink, waiting for the next part of the night in anticipation.This is the point Allen was unclear on, and had a slight bit of apprehension about, but trusted his beautiful Mistress with all his might so waited until she called upon him.

End of Part 1

Apology by Russell

My name is Russell Applemoor and this letter is an apology to those I have hurt either through my actions or my comments; specifically Miss Eva and the girls who frequent here as submissives in our community.

I want to clarify a few things first as the type written media can sometimes be interpreted in different ways by different people. I write this apology in all seriousness without humor, or sarcasm being intended or implied.
Many of you may or may not be aware of the incident that occurred at trials on Thursday the 24th of November which resulted in my temporary ban and the reason for this apology, this was the culmination of several months of activity.

To sum it up, I have a viewpoint on a social interaction within this community that is not shared by the majority of its residents. I have an aversion to females being seen in a subservient role, this is based on my own beliefs. I am exploring these thoughts and emotions and working on them as I personally do not like the way it makes me feel singling out a specific group. It is no different than myself having a bias based on race, gender, or religion, I have been proud that I don’t live my life in that manner which discriminates but I am angry at myself that this discrimination resides within me concerning female submissives.

I often express myself through my art and pictures, and I used this media to do several pictures which portrayed the Emblem of the Dominion in a twisted version of my reasoning. Inadvertently by doing so, I chose to involve a Lady who I deeply admire and respect in to my struggle and that is Miss Eva. Miss Eva does not share my viewpoints and reacted on Thursday to my actions by banning me and giving me a proper dressing down in a no Bullshit way. By involving her community in my public display I placed her into a position that she needed to respond to my actions. For this Miss Eva I am very sorry, I again admire and respect what you have created with your power and vision as I have mentioned many times over the years. I had no intentions of causing you grief or harm. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, as I know I did wrong no matter how I wanted to justify it in my own thoughts.

To the submissive girls in Dominion,
Some of you may have known of my personal beliefs in regards to girls being shown in a subservient way or this may be a surprise to you as well. I will not use this letter as a justification for my thoughts or try to express my ideas to you.

I do want to make certain things known though, I do admire that you have chosen a pathway in life and have stayed strong in following it, even with idiots such as myself in your way. My beliefs are not a personal attack on any one of you, as you all show a unique and creative personality. I have very much enjoyed working with some of you over the years and I have admired the creativity and loyalty you show to those you love. I am sorry if by my actions I have caused you any undue hurt or stress, and I will ask each of you if you can find it your hearts to forgive a fool. I am making efforts to change my ways and I hope that I may call upon you at times to help me in this challenge.

To sum it all up, I have acted in a way which is unhealthy, and I have made choices that caused people I care for heartache and that is not acceptable to those around me and more importantly, it is not acceptable to me.
I hope that you all can forgive me, or at least allow me an opportunity to earn your trust again.

Russell ( aka Paul)

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Confession by Zaira

My week passed has been a very rocky one. It has been filled some wonderful highs, and some beautifully painful lows. I could not imagine how I would write a confession for this week, but the poems seemed to call out to me. From somewhere I have written these. I am not 100% sure they are haikus, but that was the idea.

One for Miss Hanna:
Friday, One week past
The day I had imagined.
Collared, Fully, Hers.

One for my Granny:
It crept up on us
Time allowed to say goodbye
Missed but always loved

Where there is loss, there is also gain.

Anonymous Confession

The Beginning.

Ever since I can remember, back to the age of 6 or 7, I've known
that my orientation was toward other girls. At the age of 9, I told
my mother that I would never marry because you could only marry men.
She spanked me and told me not to talk nonsense like that, especially
in front of others. So I learned to hide my feelings and desires. By
the age of 14, I knew that I was submissive. My fondest wish was to
be taken and *used* by some older woman - a strong, beautiful woman
who would take care of me, control me, and, most of all, use me.

At 14, I was a real tomboy - short hair, boyish build (no breasts
to spreak of), tight little butt, and slender legs. I could beat most
of the boys my age at any sport they wanted to try, so I wasn't too
popular with them. And the girls disliked me because I was too much
like one of the boys. It was a lose/lose situation, but I didn't
care. I was waiting. I waited all through high school and while I
waited I was the good little girl my mom wanted. I wore dresses,
learned how to wear makeup, dated, went to the prom, and engaged in all sorts of school activities - sports, drama club, and even tried
out for cheerleading one year. I even fucked a couple of the guys I
dated. And during the entire four years I felt like I wanted to barf.

College was more of the same, except the guys were worse than
they'd been in high school. The other girls, for the most part, were
also the same as they'd been in high school - interested in boy,
gossip, and the latest fashions. My college experience boiled down to two things: I
got a good education and it wasn't quite as bad as high school.

I'm 26 now, I have a job with a small software company. I was
hired as a contract negotiator - my major was finance - and I liked it
right from the start. My search for the woman of my dreams came to an end six months ago when I met Stephanie. We met at a cocktail party given by one of the vice-presidents in my division.
She told me later that it was my blonde hair that attracted her initially. Stephanie, who's 28, is a manager at one of our best
customers. she is one of those women who is
often referred to as striking or handsome rather than pretty.

I was standing in a corner, nursing a martini, when she slipped
through the crowd and introduced herself. I smiled back and told her
my name. We chatted for a few minutes, mostly business, and then she
glanced around at the crowd. "Susan," she asked, "Are you having fun
or would you like to get out of here?" I hesitated for a moment.
"What do you have in mind?" She grinned. "Taking you somewhere quiet
where I can turn you over my knee and give you the spanking of your
life!" I stared at her in shock for a moment. Then I put my glass
down on a nearby table and held my hand out. She took it and led me
through the crowd. As we walked out to the parking lot we continued
to exchange personal information. One thing we determined quickly was
that her house was much closer than my apartment. I followed her
Lexus in my Miata. It took us no more than 15 minutes to reach her
house. It was almost 11:00 p.m. when we arrived. Her house turned
out to be a big colonial set on a large lot in one of the better
suburbs. She pulled into the driveway and I followed. The driveway
circled around to the back of the house where there was a three-car
garage attached to the house. Two of the doors were opening. She
pulled into one and I pulled into the other.

When I got out, she was waiting for me. As the garage doors closed
she smiled and said, "You can leave your clothes in the car or wear
them into the kitchen." I hesitated. I was thrilled and very
excited, but I didn't want to make a mistake. I glanced at her then
down at the floor. "What would you prefer?" She chuckled. "Good
answer. Leave them on for now." She took my hand and led me inside.
She released my hand and closed the door to the garage. Then she
pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. I stood where I'd
stopped and waited for her to tell me what to do. She took a minute
to look me over. I was wearing a little black dress with a scooped
neckline, white stockings, and black medium-heeled pumps. My jewelery
was gold, plain, simple pieces - a rope chain, earrings, and a watch.
Stephanie smiled up at me and said, "Pretty, very pretty. Simple, but
elegant. You are a jewel!" I felt myself blushing as I thanked her.
She patted her lap. "Come and lie down here. Let's see what you can
take." As I approached she told me to pull my dress up. I obeyed and
she grinned when she saw that I was wearing thigh highs and silk
bikini panties. I stretched myself across her lap and crossed my
wrists behind my back as directed. I stared at the floor, hardly
daring to breathe as she pulled my panties down to my knees. I took a
deep breath as she caressed my bare buttocks with one hand while
holding my wrists with the other. She was quite strong and I knew
that I probably wouldn't be able to escape her grip even if I wanted to do so.

"Have you ever been spanked?" I shook my head.
She pinched me on the thigh and I yelped. "I expect a verbal answer. And be polite."
I nodded. "No, ma'am, I've never been spanked." She patted my ass and told me that was better.
"This is your last chance to back out. Stay or go?"
I glanced back over my shoulder and whispered, "Stay."

She grinned. Then her hand went up and dropped. Fast. Hard.
Craaaccck! I squirmed, but didn't make a sound. It hurt like hell!
And felt so good. She gave me a dozen hard whacks and I was crying by
the fourth. Sobbing loudly by the seventh. After twelve she paused
and asked me if I could take another twelve. "Yes, ma'am," I
whispered. "Please...." She gave me another dozen even harded than
the first twelve. When it was over, she eased me off her lap onto my
knees. I knelt there, sobbing and rubbing my sore ass. She lifted my
chin and kissed me on the mouth. God, it was perfect! She told me to
stand up and take my dress off. I hopped up and pulled my dress off
over my head, draping it neatly over the back of a chair. My bra and
panties followed a minute later. Then, wearing only stockings and
shoes, I was taken on a tour of the house.

As we left the livingroom and mounted the stairs to the second
floor, Stephanie asked me how it felt to be virtually nude. I glanced
up at her and whispered, "It feels.... right. Very right." She
showed me around the upstairs. There were four bedrooms and two full
baths. Every room was decorated beautifully and I fell in love with
the house and with Stephanie. She was the strong, dominant woman I'd
been seeking. After I'd seen the upstairs, we returned to the
kitchen. Stephanie sat on the counter by the sink and had me stand in
front of her. Her knees touched my belly as I stood, as directed,
with my hands clasped behind my back. She toyed with my nipples as
she questioned me about my past experiences. She was surprised and
delighted to discover that she was the first woman to spank me. She
frowned when I told her that I fucked a few guys in high school and
one in college. But her frown went away while I told her I'd been
quite celibate since college. She told me to turn around and bend
over. I obeyed and blushed when her fingers grazed my anus. "How
about here? Has anybody penetrated you here?"

I glanced back at her and whispered, "No, nobody." She nodded and
told me to turn and face her again. She went back to toying with my
nipples. I asked her if she thought my breasts were too small. She
shook her head. "No, they're perfect. Small and pert and oh so
sensitive." I sighed with pleasure as she pinched my nipples and
pulled them gently. The questions resumed and I answered fully and
truthfully. Finally, "Susan, what do you want?"

I glanced around and took a deep breath before answering. "I want
to be loved and cherised and controlled. I want to be....... owned."

She smiled and kissed me. "A slave. You want to be a slave?"
I nodded. "Yes, I want to be your slave. Take me, train me, own me. Please!"
"Limits?' She asked.
"None." I replied.
"On your knees..... slave."

I dropped to my knees and kissed the tips of her shoes. She left
me on my knees while she went to get a collar. It was a narrow collar
made of hand-tooled black leather. It didn't fit quite snugly enough,
but she promised me one of my own that did. She locked it on with a
small stainless steel padlock. Then she sent me home. She gave me
the weekend and Monday to pack my things and put them in storage. I
called in on Monday and told them I was taking a couple of vacation
days. It cost me an extra $200, but I had a mover there that day to
take my things to a long-term storage facility. My landlord wasn't
happy until I said I'd forfeit my security deposit. On Monday
evening, at 7:00 p.m., I arrived back at Stephanie's house. I had a
few personal belongings and a small suitcase with a few clothes and my
toiletries. I was wearing a cropped t-shirt, cutoff denim jeans, my
collar, and jogging shoes. No underwear. I pulled in and opened the
garage with the remote that Stephanie had given me. Her car wasn't in
the garage. I had a key to the house, but I didn't go inside. When
Stephanie arrived at 7:30 I was on my knees behind my Miata, nude,
waiting for her. When she got out of her car I crawled to her on my
belly and licked the tips of her shoes in submission. She crouched
and stroked my hair gently. I shivered with pleasure when she told me
that I was a good girl and would make an excellent slave.

We went inside then. She walked and I followed on my hands and
knees. My life as a slave had begun.


Confessions Haiku by Anonymous

3 seperate haiku's:

Supple lips divide
Exhaling breathes onto
The girls pale scarred flesh


Soft flesh trembles as
Calloused hands grasp onto
Already bruised skin


Sore chapped lips lose blood
Seeping out like all the secrets
Kept within her walls

Glimpse Of The Moment by Anonymous

Glimpse of the moment

the sparkling sun starts talking in the morning
reflected by lill moisty drops of dew.
her beams remove the mist just like a curtain
i sit down there, it's all so new.

the mighty trees spread out their arms,
they're moving slowly, breathed by the wind.
my resting bones, pause in daydreaming
i do not sleep a single wink.

A little crying, a caring mother,
birds flying down, rest on my leg.
a gentle smile, filled by contentment,
comes up my lips, no more to beg.

An open meadow peppered with flowers,
it seems they're dancing in the wind.
aunts up my chest, can hear them drumming,
Sounds if they're talking, sounds like a hint.

A sudden silence surrounds the place,
can't hear a noise, can't see a movement,
i read the signs, turn into happy smiles,
you're here! My precious Lady just appeared.

Promises by Anonymous

Promises by Anonymous

Promises roll off your lips

Like pleasantries after "Good Morning".

"Would you like cream in your coffee?"

"I promise I"ll never leave."

"Have you looked outside, it's a beautiful day?"

"I promise I'll always be there."

I could stare watching you weave lie after lie for hours

An auditory trainwreck of disillusion and dreams.

Promises are like hearts

Everybody has one

and sooner or later

Everybody breaks one.

True love sticks around to help pick up the pieces

Even when it ends with the biggest lie...

"We can still be friends."

Eva's Haiku

Summer falls to sleep
Winter folds her snowy arms
Spring's kiss will melt her.

A Haiku by Axelle

A Haiku by Axelle Paramour

The Miss cracks her whip
Surging white hot molten heat
Hurt fleeting, endured

Tarq's Confessions

-- Haiku
Black snap, that whip crack;
Ripe cherry lips melting this
Sharp, electric smack.

-- To someone
Oh if I could just see you each day,
Reach out to kiss your feet as you lay.
I'd never be tired of the things that you say
And only be happy to while the time away -
Not caring too much if we talk or we play,
And both of us knowing you will do as you may.

-- Bound or not bound
Bound or not bound, I don't much mind,
As long as I'm lost in the blink of your eye.
Wound around your fingertip,
I'm shaking, and I wonder why.
In this world within a world,
Here, words are our way to get to each other.
Words that light us up out of darkness,
Some words familiar, others discovered.
Do you know what I want to hear you say?
But if I ask you to, the spell will fade away.
So bound or not bound, either is ok.
I'm tied up tight for you anyway.

Confessions by Lady Melina

Two Poems

Poem 1

Your sensuality overwhelms me
I've given up the raging fight
A gentle fugue now surrounds me
I care no more for what is right

I crave your danger constantly
My heart feels nothing while my body burns
I touch the fire without consequence
Not sure when my faith turned

Not a victim I carry on
I push with you to move ahead
The lines now fades will soon disappear
Our dirty secrets left unsaid

where this will lead is still unknown
My eyes are blind with no will to see
I desire the pit that is sure to come
And wish to lose the rest of me

Poem 2

Your eyes like peace pulling
Me down from the edge, holding me
Though troubled you saved my life
From a firey misery

a peace lives inside that is foreign to all of me
My emotions feel free to move at it's whim
Once held in a raging mind, savagely burning me
Free from a cycle of sin

A moment of clarity persisting through shadows
The shadows now lightening the blackness inside of me

A lie, it was never a part of me
A fable to frighten, mere clever trickery
A beautiful lie, tempting dark and enchanting
A small light grew large and forced out the dark

Oh beautiful angel - a sweet troubled child
Lost to himself, he saved my mind
Blue eyes so troubled not knowing his brilliance
a brilliance that he alone can find

Confession by Lady Sweet

My slave loves strap on play. It's not something I do very often, I'm much more of a sadist than anything, so when he mentioned that it had been a while I thought I'd set up a wonderful scene. I thought about it all week, making my plans on how things would go.
The day before the planned scene I let him in on it. I told him that we would play when I got home from work, told him to make sure he was showered and shaved and to clean himself out with a fleet enema kit under the sink. Gave him specific instructions on washing the dildo, laying out the harness and towels, rope, lube and condoms. I told him to be naked and cuffed and kneeling with his head down on the floor when I arrived home.

All the instructions were sent via email early before I left for work so that he would receive it as soon as he woke up that morning and could begin his preparations.
On the drive to the office I had an inspiration, I sent him a text message telling him that I was going to fuck his mouth too, told him to wash the special dildo (Share) that I use for that, and instructed him not to eat before I got home. I didn't discover until later that the text message was never received....

Fortunately the day went quickly for me, probably because I spent the most part of it daydreaming about this wonderful scene and how everything would happen. I arrived home to find my boy naked and on his knees just as I instructed (he greets me now every day in this fashion). I grabbed his hair and forced him to kiss my shoes then ordered him to take off my shoes and stockings. I grabbed him by the hair and made him crawl to the bedroom where everything was laid out as I had instructed.

The first thing I wanted to do was force my cock deep into his throat, I spread the towel on the floor and instructed him to kneel face down and wait for me. I pulled out my Share, inserted it easily because I was already wet in anticipation. I pulled him up by the hair looked into his eyes and told him to suck my cock, and to be sure to suck it like he loved it (which he does, lol). He began tentatively, wetting it with his tongue and then sucking it into his mouth. I wanted to see him gag so bad that I grabbed his head and ground my hips forcing my cute little baby pink cock deep into his throat. He came up sputtering and gasping for breath and just before he could catch it I forced it down his throat again. That's when he threw up. I'm so glad that the towel was under us and also glad that it didn't get on me, just my cock. I laughed at him and taking the cock out of myself told him to go to the bathroom and clean himself and the dildo up.

While he was doing that (and throwing up some more in the sink while brushing his teeth), I prepared the bed. I spread a towel on the bed, draping it down the side and onto the floor. I prepared my ropes, tying them to be bed posts. When he returned I forced him onto the bed face down and tied his arms spread eagle. I tied his ankle cuffs tightly to the bed posts, stretching him wide and holding him in position.

I slipped into my strap on, all the while telling him what a slut he is and how I'm going to rape his man pussy. I pulled his cock and balls down and wrapped a rope around them, binding them tightly, pointing to the floor so that I could squeeze them as I was taking his ass. I lubed up another of my big pink dildos and then spread his crack, making sure he was well lubed. Positioning my cock at his man pussy I began to slide it in slowly, he groaned, I called him a slut again and once fully engulfed began to slowly pump it in and out of his ass. His moaning became louder, his cock was hard and I was stroking it and squeezing, building the rthym, pumping him harder until suddenly he said, "Mistress, I have to poop" I laughed at him, told him to relax, that the feeling would pass and slowed down the hip action waiting for the urge to go away.

It went away alright, suddenly he said "Oh shit", I looked down and realized that it wasn't just a passing urge brought on by my vigorous use of his ass. I stepped back quickly, pulling out of him, he started exclaiming "I'm sorry, Mistress I'm sorry". It was hysterical and I couldn't help but crack up. I slipped out of the harness and dropped the poop covered dildo onto the towel. He told me that he still had to go and I told him he'd better hold it. I went into the bathroom and soaked a wash cloth and began to clean my thighs. Meanwhile he's still strapped face down on the bed, moaning and telling me he can't hold it anymore. Again I told him he'd better hold it. Just as I returned to the bed to untie him, his body took over and the shit slowly spilled out and ran downward, over his cock and balls and puddled on the towel on the floor. At that point the whole situation was just to hilarious and we both began to laugh uncontrollably. I finally got him untied, we bundled up the towel and he hit the shower. Oh, but not before I snapped a picture of him (to use later for humiliation purposes of course).

Needless to say my wonderfully planned out scene did not go as anticipated. I learned some valuable lessons that day. 1. Never use a fleet enema for anal play. 2. Make sure he's received all of the instructions, he never received the text and had eaten just before I arrived home. 3. The next time I receive an offer for a toilet slave, take it.... it just might come in handy. :)

A Confession

I'm sitting on the edge of her bed. Her eyes are closed, she's peacefully sleeping, her facial expressions tell me so. Every once in a while, her lips will curl up in a smile. She's getting older, 79 years and 40 of those years she has spent with me.

I remember well when we first met. She was 39, I was 25. I saw her across the street and I instantly knew we would spend the rest of our lives together. Maybe I was ignorant, but as it turned out, I was correct on this one. I walked up to her, asked her if she wanted to go for a drink and she accepted. We sat at our little table for hours and hours and with each hour passing my heart was beating faster for her. I fell in love, head over heels.

We never had children. We had each other and that was enough. There never were any other women for me. There never were any other men for her. Our love was perfect.

It still is perfect. As long as she keeps breathing. Three months ago, my whole world turned upside down. The day started like any other day, I woke up, got out of bed and made coffee for us both. When I brought it upstairs and whispered softly in her ear that she needed to wake up, she replied with, "Just one more minute, pop."

I laughed and shook her little, thinking she was way of in dreamland. Her dad was long gone, but it made me happy to see she still dreamt of him. She rubbed her eyes, sat up straigher in bed, looked me straight in the eye and whispered, "Pops, you know I don't drink coffee!"

To say I was flabbergasted, would be an understatement. She was definitely wide awake. I was confused and didn't know what to think of it, especially when she reached for the coffee and muttered a, "Thank you, my boy." I didn't think much else of it, perhaps she was just in a deep sleep and needed a little more time to wake up.

My thoughts on that changed over the week as she refered to me John at times. John was her brother and he passed away the year before. I took her to see a doctor. I was slightly embarassed, she acted childlike, wouldn't concentrate and eventually got all quiet and just sat there, suspicously looking around as if someone would sneak up to her and try to scare her.

The doctor did some tests on her. She was reluctant to work with him, kept asking me where we were, how we got here and kept repeating that we needed to go home because it was time for dinner. He gave her a simple reading text and she struggled over the simplest of words.

The doctor nodded his head towards the door and closed it softly, as not to disturb her. "It seems to be, your wife is suffering from Alzheimer. To be sure, I am sending her to a neurologist." I was unable to speak and just nodded my head. He offered his sympathies and we went back home.

The next weeks were filled with doctor appointments, seeing specialists, going from psychiatrists to neurologists and psychologists. Eventually they told me the first doctor was correct. She was suffering from alzheimer and they carefully prepared me for all that was about to come.

The thing is, no matter what someone might say to you. There is no one to prepare you for the loss of your lover. She didn't realize, there were hardly moments she was fully concious and the moments she was, I didn't want to ruin with awful conversations. She at times made a comment about feeling lost, how she couldn't remember things but blamed it on her age and laughed it off.

In a three month period her health went completely down the drain. She would sit in her chair motionless, her once so happy personality was completely gone and all there was left was the shadow of the woman she once used to be.

Her eyes slowly open and I smile. I wonder who I will be today. John, her dad, a stranger I never heard of, or perhaps just me. I know it won't be long until her eyes won't open anymore. She sleeps 20 hours a day and refuses to eat or drink the other four. She is utterly weak and I still love her so very much.

Her hands reaches out for me and with a voice that scares me she whispers, "I'm so proud of you, my boy. Promise me, you'll be good. You may be old, but you're still my brat." I try not to cry as she says her goodbye's. I lay down next to her and just hold her, tell her memories of our journey together as I listen to her breathing, the gaps between each breath lasting longer and longer, until finally there is no more next breath.

I feel calm and peacefully. I reach for the bottle on the nightstand and swallow every pill with the water that's left in the bottle. As my head touches the pillow again and my arms wrap around her slowly getting cold skin, I whispers, "Goodnight my Mistress. Don't you worry about a thing. I'll be good, because I will be with you. Wherever you go, I follow. I love you."

Journey In To Slavery Part 2 by Bozzer

John peered out into the gloom once more. He had tried to sleep, but had found it impossible. Either the cold woke him or the stiffness in his joints. He tried to work out what time it was, how long had he been there, cramped into this tiny space.

The light flickers into life, blinding John forcing him to cover his eyes protecting them from the burning light. He hears the click, click, click of shoes on the hard floor. Slowly John opens his eyes to see a pair of knee high black boots in front of him. Looking up he sees a woman dressed in a gray knee length skirt, white shirt and gray jacket. Her long blonde hair was tied neatly back into a flowing ponytail, with a peak cap resting on top. A single armband on her right arm with the word trainer written on it. The woman crouched down to the cage, “did we sleep well?” she asked with a gentle voice.
“What do you think,” he snapped back with a glare in his eye.
“now, now” she said softly, “we don’t want to get off to a bad start do we?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. Holding it in front of him she said,
“Now if I let you out are you going to be a good boy?” John looked at her face seeing a little smile on her lips and a glint in her eye. He knew she held all the cards and could very easily turn and leave him there. He needed to get out, needed to stretch and move his muscles.
“Yes,” he said sheepishly.
“Yes what?” she snapped, “It’s yes Mistress! This is not a very good start.” The sudden change in her voice shocked him and sent fear rushing through his body. With his heart racing he sputtered out,
“y-y-yes M-m-m-mistress.” She smiled liking the look of fear that came over his face. Leaning forward she slid the key into the padlock and turned it. The padlock fell open and she swiftly unhooked it and dropped it in her pocket. As she stood up she swung the door open.
“Out!” She barked, and before he realized it he crawled out of the cage. With muscles so stiff and wanting to stretch he started to climb to his feet. This only resulted in a boot in his back that sent him sprawling forward. He tried to break his fall with his hands but the chain pulled tight and his face impacted on the concrete floor.
“Did I say you could stand?” She growled, “Now get over here and greet me properly.” With new pain in his head and mind spinning he scurried over to her and kissed her boots.
“Good morning Mistress,” he said.
“Good that’s much better, there is hope for you yet,” her voice softened as she went on, “ok I am Mistress Anna and will be getting you ready for the end of the week. If you do well and work hard this will be an easy process for both of us But, if you make it hard... well let's just say don’t because it will hurt you much more than me.” A smile was creeping over her face as the words flowed from her lips.
“Right, lets get you cleaned up.” She leaned forward pulling a lead from her pocket and attached it to John’s wrists. She quickly stood and turned, with a sharp tug she walked for the steps. John followed scrambling to his feet desperately trying to keep up with this lady's pace. Not a word was said as he was dragged down the hallway. He managed to catch a glimpse of some other unfortunate man through a half open door. Like him he was naked but with a collar round his neck. He was kneeling, holding a tray with a glass balanced upon it. His head was lowered and the tray was lifted above him. John was quickly dragged past the door and on into another room. This was what looked like a bathroom, white tiles covered the walls and a hard stone floor beneath his feet. There was another door on the opposite wall to were he had come in, a thick heavy door with a hefty bolt at the top. In the corner of the room was a shower with a sink situated on the wall next to it. Opposite these was a toilet, Mistress Anna pushed John down onto the toilet making him sit.
“Now pee,” she ordered. John did as he was ordered a little surprised how easy it was as it had been the last thing on his mind only a few moments before.
“are we done?” John simply nodded and was dragged from his seated position. The shower had no screens around it and John was pushed under the shower head with great ease. A small yelp sprang from his lips as the cold water hit his back. Mistress Anna threw some soap at him and barked,
“You wash now.” Dutifully, John did as he was told and rubbed the soap over his body. He rinsed his body and the water was switched off. Next a towel was thrown at him.
“Dry yourself and put the towel in that basket.” She pointed to the plastic wash basket next to the door they had come in. Once dry, John was lead back out into the corridor and into another room. This was a much softer room, warm lighting and a fire crackling in the fireplace on the far wall. A desk was situated at one end just under a window. John was led to the desk and Mistress Anna walked round the other side. John looked out of the window for a moment this was the first time he had seen the outside since his capture. Even now he could only see the trees on the other side of the gravel drive and the clear blue sky. There was nothing to give away his location. His attention was then brought back to the desk with a sharp slap to his face. He looked at her, then at the desk, on the desk lay a piece of paper with a pen resting on it, a metal collar and a padlock.
“Read this and sign it,” She pointed to the paper. John read the paper it looked like a suicide note he then looked at the Mistress.
“Oh yes John is dead.” She said calmly, “So unless you want them to find John’s body you best do as we say. Don’t worry if you don’t sign it we will forge it and they will find your body.” He leaned forward nervously and signed the bottom of the page. She smiled and picked up the collar.
“Now as I said John is dead.” She turned the collar in her hands and showed it to him. “This is you now, number 53.” He looked at the metal collar in her hands and saw 53 stamped into the metal. Mistress Anna walked round the desk and stood before him. She opened the collar and slipped it round his neck. Leaning down she grabbed the padlock and snapped it shut locking the collar to him. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out the key to his cuffs and swiftly unlocking them, the cuffs fell to the floor,
“There we don’t need them any more, do we?” Another smile crossed her face. The Mistress then reached down beside the desk and pulled out a pair of black work boots. Pushing them into his chest she said, “you will need these for the next part of your training.” 53 dropped to the floor and quickly pulled on the boots, then scrambled to his feet again. This activity produced a warm smile across her face. Quickly she attached a leash to a ring on his collar and lead him back out into the hallway. Walking easier now that his feet are freed from the cuffs 53 could keep up with the Mistress. They walk through a door and out into a courtyard. The cold air hit his skin as he saw the high walls surround the almost empty yard. Against one wall is a large pile of paving slabs, The only decoration in the courtyard.
“You are to move those slabs from that wall to the opposite wall here,” She ordered him. “You have 30 minutes to complete this task. Not a second more not a second less, do you understand?” He nodded looking at the pile of slabs. She removed the leash, turned and left the courtyard. 53 started on his task carrying each heavy slab from one side to the other.
As the pile gets lower and lower on one side and larger and larger on the other, 53 get slower as he starts to tire from this chore. Finally the last slab is in place and he sat on the pile smiling at his work. Feeling much warmer he started to relax, just then the door flew open and Mistress Anna strode through it, cane in hand, and a face of pure anger.
“30 minutes I said!” She barked at him, “now as it’s your first attempt I will show some leniency. You will get 1 stroke for every minute you were over, I could have gone for every second but I don’t have that much time. So you will get 10 for each minute and 2 for disobeying me. You will count each stroke and thank Me for it, do you understand?”
“Yes Mistress,” he replied nervously.
“I doubt it as you said you understood the task but we will try. Bend over the slabs!” 53 quickly bent over the slabs and waited for the canning to start. As the first blow struck the pain shot through his body, his back arching and he sucked in a deep breath. He just about remembers to splutter out “1 thank you Mistress.” The second carefully aimed blow landed just below the first. The sharp shooting pain forced a cry to escape his lips and with his face screwed up in pain he forced the thank you out. Each stroke coming down with deadly accuracy leaving a clear red welt, were it had landed. Each time 53 screwed up his face and cried out before thanking the Mistress. After what seems like an eternity he reaches number 12 and the end. Collapsing on the slabs and breathing deeply the pain in his ass burning he heard her growl.
“Right now put these slabs back over there, and do it right this time!” As the Mistress leaves 53 gets straight to the job in hand, working through the pain in his ass and in his tired muscles. Finally finishing the last slab, exhausted he collapsed on the floor. The door swung open and cold water hit his tired and aching body. Looking up he sees Mistress Anna standing over him holding a bucket.
“Good,” She says happily, “see I knew you could do it, and now you can eat.” Bending down she reattached the leash to his collar and drug him to his feet. She lead him out of the courtyard, back down the hall and into another room. This is quite a small plain room with a table and 4 chairs in the middle. 3 men were already sitting at the table in silence eating. 53 saw a plate and cup in front of the remaining empty chair. On the plate was what looked like then end of a loaf of bread about 4 inches thick, and water in the cup. He was lead to the chair,
“Sit, eat and don’t talk,” she told him. “Unless you want a repeat of this morning's punishment.” The Mistress turned and left 53 with his new comrades, he looked at the plate and wondered if this nightmare would ever end.

A Piano Is Like A Mistress by Rebel

When I was eighteen I wanted to be a concert pianist.
Once I began my studies at the University, my instructor
told me that if I wanted to excel I would treat the piano
as My Mistress. Being so young, never having been
in a relationship, let alone one with a Mistress,
I nodded my head. She went on to explain what that meant,
but I could not relate. Eventually, I tired of the piano
not willing to devote enough time and energy to it.
But I never forgot the metaphor and am only now
beginning to understand what it means:
A piano is like a Mistress.
When you are with her she requires full attention and devotion.
She must be tuned lovingly or she will yell at you off key.
She requires you to be exact with a delicate but firm touch.
It is not enough to run your hands over her, you must
put feeling into it. You have to work to bring the melody
out and sustain it. Yet provide the accompaniment
and do it in harmony. The notes are written on the page,
just as precise as the instructions of a Mistress are.
She tells you how fast, how hard, how loud,
but it is just notes on a page until you do the work.
And when you get it right,
when you get it right,
you are transported beyond the piano,
beyond just you and her, you create music.
Music that lifts the soul, sustains it, building
through trills, and crescendo’s. Faster and faster,
louder and louder, running your fingers up and down,
moving the pedals, striking the keys, tickling the ivory,
until finally, finally you are in heaven.

Dominion Tale by Black

His appointment as “Official Support Officer to the Judgery” coming so soon after his arrival in Dominion had equally surprised and pleased him. The reality had swiftly changed that reaction. He now resided in what from the outside was the Judgery’s huge polished dark wood desk at the front of the court. What was not visible from the public side was that the wooden desk was just an outer frame surrounding on three sides a cage.
He now lived in that cage, kept naked and often gagged. One leg was manacled at the ankle with sufficient length to merely allow him to crawl the extent of the cage with its cold steel bars on all sides.
His “duties” fell due when the judgery was hearing cases. The doors at the rear of the cage would be swing back giving him five feet of very limited freedom. The Court session would commence and the Judgery enter, taking her seat at the desk, her legs under the top actually stretching into the cage.
He quickly learned that the judgery liked to get proceedings under way before she would indicate that his services were required. Firstly he would carefully open the front of her legal gown, exposing her long tanned legs but avoiding contact. He then bent to the floor and commenced cleaning her shoes, tongue working over the patent leather. All the time she would be running the court, hearing evidence, very much in control. His movements slow, ensuring no sound escapes from his manacles.
Usually she would wear stockings and he would gently massage her feet through the silk, moving up her calves, the aroma of her body rich in the enclosed space. He liked to kiss her knees, it seemed to indicate all was well. Timing was all and he had to pace his progress with the case. Then he would caress her thighs, moving her feet and knees wider apart. Al last, heart beating faster now, he reaches the top of the stockings, that smooth, toned flesh under his fingertips then the tip of his tongue. He shuffles forward, head moving deep within her thighs.
Then the final stage. The defence would likely be ending their case and the summaries would then commence before the judgery gave her verdict. Holding his breath he closes his mouth in on the judgery’s sex. Always bare, never panties, her bottom perched on the edge of her chair giving him better access. His tongue strokes along the lips which protrude slightly, sucking lightly sucking delicately on them. He breathes out knowing the moving air will cool the pink, damp flesh.
His own cock erect now, stiff, he desperately tries to avoid it rubbing against her silken calves. The memory of one of his early tasks seared into his mind. The excitement had overcome him and the head had brushed her persistently making him suddenly cum, spraying onto her soaking her stockings. The subsequent beating had been awful.
The tip of his tongue works north seeking out the legal clit, circling the bud, bringing it free of its hood. Then back down stroking the length of her pussy lips. The defence is summing up now and shortly the judgery will speak. She will sum up sitting and stand just for the verdict.
He senses the sweat on his forehead both from the restricted space but more the fear that he will fail to please her. His tongue slides inside her as she starts to speak, using her vast experience to sum the case up to consider the issues. Voice rising and falling as she emphasise points. A fingertip rises to her clit, brushing across it so carefully but with increasing tempo. His tongue deep inside her now, exploring, stroking. Sometimes pushing deep, then stroking more back to front.
He senses her muscles tensing and increases his efforts, flicking rapidly over her clit, his tongue penetrating deeply. The merest shiver followed by a gush of her juices tells him his duty has been completed and he gasps in relief. He quickly licks her juices making sure no dribbles pass down her thighs to her stockings. He pulls the gown back in place as she begins to stand to issue the verdict. One day he would love to see her face. Are there tell-tales signs as she cums? He will never know.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Tea Time by Bella Rubi

Tea time

“Bring your tea with you Mine” I look at you and smile warmly, while I start walking up the stairs, you follow me quietly. “Kneel in the middle of the rug…face the wall” I instruct you when you reach me. “Yes Mistress” You say and try to look at me. I cross your face with a slap and groan at you. “Now”.
You kneel quickly, thinking you were set up with a warm welcome home. I shove your head in the rug when I watch you hesitate for a second. One hand placed behind your head and a knee in your upper back. I keep your face in the rug for more than two minutes, releasing you when I stand up. I walk around you and place a foot in your back now. Digging my heel in your skin, feeling the muscle give a little.” Don’t you dare move now, eyes in the rug” I say and I walk over my night stand to get rope and the cuffs.
I come back to where you still lay in the rug, placing the cuffs in your wrist behind your back, I use the silky rope to tie your balls, separate them each from the other, and making some rope rings around the base of your shaft, restraining your cock and taking the rope around your neck, where I hold the end of the rope. I tug your collar and hook your leash; you are bounded for my fun now.
I see in your eyes that you just realized how this is going to work, the rope is not long enough for you to sit up straight and you`ll have to bend over to keep your cock from been pulled if you lift your head too much.
“Sit up and kneel” I command you now, holding your leash and rope firmly in my right hand. Your torso bended over, to the most so you don’t pull your cock. I lift your face when you manage to sit up and kneel. You whimper softly when I lean over to kiss your lips.
“Kiss me” I demand, I know you will have to lift your neck to reach my lips, and therefore your cock will be yanked. I tease you, biting your lips and kissing you, feeling starving for your kiss and your pain, my tongue claiming your mouth, I hear the muffled whimper in mine. Your cock just got a bit harder and the rope tightened around it.
I tower over you again leaving your mouth open, as I start to undress in front of you, taking my time, there is no hurry. I walked to the table where you left your cup of tea and I take it back with me, dipping my finger in it to make sure is still hot enough to drink it.
Your head is lifted and you try to look up without pulling on your cock too much.
“Time for your tea Mine” I say and I slowly start pouring the warm tea on my chest…the fine string of warm liquid slips down my belly and reaches my crotch…standing over your face…the tingling sensation down my pussy getting wet makes me moan out loud…and you stick your tongue out reaching my pussy lips soaked with the warm sweet tea.

“Lick and drink every drop of tea Mine” I instruct again, and you can just nod and lick and suck avidly, lifting your head and pulling your cock with the rope that tightens around your cock getting harder. The fine string keeps pouring on your tongue and making me warm inside, along with your tongue strokes…the warm feeling grows faster inside my belly…and my climax explodes and grows until it reaches its peak…along with a powerful squirt that fills up your tongue and your eyes with a surprise.
I just smile and let go of the rope undoing your cuff.
“Now, clean up this mess and join me in the shower…I am not done yet”

Sissy Sensations by Wilson

My ears ring with the sound of slender heels clicking across the wooden floor.


Her words come to my mind, drowning out only momentarily the echoes of the clicking heels.

“Do you feel yourself begin to get hard little Miss Sissy, as you understand that all my slaves, eventually, are feminized, sissified and humiliated beyond their limits?”

At the time I had heard those words, two long years ago, it struck me more as a display of power, a reminder of who was in control rather than as an agenda to be actualized in the time ahead.

I had been hard at the time, enamored by this woman who had caught me glancing at Her longer than was customary, and had nervously turned my eyes away when Her deep green gaze caught me admiring Her. After that it had not taken long for Her to corner me in the club, introduce Herself as Christina, and begin to ask me questions about my life. Questions I found myself unable not to answer as truthfully as I could, even as I found myself astonished by their directness. She asked if I had ever worn women’s clothes before and when I admitted that once I had played a woman in a play in college, She smiled and began to call me Miss Sissy, a breathy laugh escaping her lips each time She gave me this new nickname. A laugh so light and pleasant it took any sting out of it, and I found myself hardly objecting to at all.


The sound once again overcame my senses, distracting me from my reverie. There was something unusual about the quality of the clicking. The way it echoed? No, that was not it. How close it was? No, again, I had heard the click of Mistress’s heels many times in the years since that first encounter. The first time She had enjoyed my ass with Her strap-on She had me blindfolded and tied over a horse, my bottom naked and exposed. In silence I lay there for a long time, my heart tapping away in my chest. I had begun to fall asleep in the quiet and dark when I heard the faintest sound of Her heels clicking on the floor. Louder and louder the clicking grew, waking me up, making my heart race, until their sound drowned my senses before it abruptly came to a stop,

“Well well, what do we have here Miss Sissy, are you offering this sweet tight arse to Me?” She had said on that day, punctuated by Her breathy laugh that always left me feeling treasured and appreciated for my obedience.


Once again the sound distracted me from my thoughts, this time bringing a smile to my bright red lips, as at last I understood what it was that made this sound so different, and why these specific thoughts were swirling around my head.


Through darkly eye lined eyes, mascara dripping lashes, I looked down the length of my legs, sensually bound in nylon, at the 6 inch, black high heels that adorned my feet carrying me swiftly and sensually closer and closer to Her.

“Oh Miss Sissy” She said “Don’t You look just lovely tonight…” punctuated by Her delightful breathy laugh…

Since My Release by Ashpan

Since the day of my release,
I've been knelt in the courtyard at the Dominion, unleashed.
watching and learning,
Becoming comfortable, just to be , no one spoke directly to me, other then a reply to the greeting I gave.
I realized i was alone in a crowd.
Strange erratic feelings, of insecurity and fear mixed with excitement and a compelling desire. lingered within me.
All shaky and confused, and my head in bits,
I felt like I was being watched, as if I was on display ,
and i was unsure if I should stay.
As I kneel on the floor, happy, to be permitted to be here, among the ladies, in their realm,
I hear a Mistress say my name and make conversation about a parade I was in,
my feelings did not deceive me as I looked up, into the face of the beautiful woman
now towering towering over me.
I was surprised anyone remembered me!
We talked a bit and she told me while I was free, she may have need of me, at times.
A smile came over my face , turning into a cheesy grin.
The only thing I could say and indeed the only thing I wanted to say was.

slowly but surely, over the coming times I talked more and more and got to know people better.
Eventually I was taken by another Mistress, I was pleased , but it was short lived, an hour to be exact .
I knelt in the courtyard once more, with a defeatist attitude and I began questioning my submissiveness , I let my guard down and I let out a loud sigh,
everyone heard me.
At that Moment i was immediately under what seemed to be many microscopes, from the ladies on all sides of me , questioning me, making me question myself!.
I was requested to go to one of the Mistress's feet,
the Lady who had been watching me all this time, she gave me the honor of kneeling at her feet ,
Even though I was sad, I was happy to be there,
right there ,
right then .
Now, i'm knelt in the courtyard, leashed and owned under consideration.
I hope that I am good enough,
I hope I never let her down
I am yours!