Saturday, March 24, 2012

Long Ago by Jamie

Long ago I dreamt of you
softly demanding sacrifice
commanding, stern
naughty and nice
only to kneel at the Dominion as I see you

For a moment my heart would stop
then slowly beat again
the humdrum of an unfulfilled existence
Art and music
you were not there
nowhere to be found
no salve to ease my aching heart

So I learned to worship the unseen
in the church of possibility
and dreamt of you again
Across a crowded room
your single teardrop wrenched my soul

Once more my heart paused
to beat again
and there I found my Mistress
(beside me for so long
had I but eyes to see)

So graciously
the unseen Queen awaited my arrival
from shadow lands
prepared a feast and eulogy
Upon my knees you set me free

You bind me up and make me whole
you fill the void within my soul
Stern and Kind
so close
you are now my everything
Mistress Crissy

- Jamie Stipe  3/22/2012

First Time With Mistress by Reid

When I met with Mistress for the first time...
Mistress ran through the rules and a few other limits were told ,She then got down to business..
All Right, get your clothes off and then we will begin”
I did as I was told, stripped and then turned to face her, whilst I was stripping Mistress turned on the music (always a nice way to set a good atmosphere)

“Hands behind your back” was the command, I duly obeyed, and wondering what delight or torture I was letting myself into, was Mistress  going to break me in gently or go for broke!?
Maybe I was going to be tied? No, “Get on you hands and knees” I did as I was told, Mistress  sat in front of me and presented her foot to me, and I duly paid my respects to the superior and kissed and licked her shoes.

Mistress  then walked behind me and just as I was thinking how nice she was being to me WACK – my bottom stung! I did however, remember to say my thanks for the punishment ...
I was then led over to a chair and made to sit on it, my hands were then tied behind my back and the chair, so far so good I thought – nothing unexpected, nice and easy! Mistress  then put a hood on me – bugger I thought – things always get a little harder when you lose your sight – you just never know what’s going to happen.. Suddenly my left nipple was pinched hard by Mistress  then the right nipple (here we go I thought) Then, almost straight away Mistress  released her grip on my nipples – mmm I thought, short and sweet – easy! Ouch! – no sooner had Mistress  released her hands from my chest a much harder grip had got hold of me – nipple clamps.

I was then released from the chair and made to stand up. I could hear Mistress Ar moving about the room – I think she is getting something for me, problem is, when you can not see – you have to guess, is a pleasure toy or a punishment toy (or both). I could now sense Mistress  behind me, she was running what I think was a crop up and down my back, heck I thought, stand by – get ready for a wack either on the bum or back, WACK – now that made me jump – the hit was at the front of my body, Mistress  had seen that something was dribbling – and she wasn’t happy with it! Now, if I knew that was where the hit was being aimed at – I would not have jumped so much – that’s the beauty of being sightless – you have no idea – it adds to the excitement!

Mistress  then led me by the arm and I was cuffed to her cross, more nipple torture here, but then once again Mistress  noticed my dribbling (I was trying to be good – honest – but sometimes it’s just too hard to stop!!) Mistress  was not happy at the mess I was making and threatened that she would make me lick it up (this threat was made several times during the afternoon, now –, well, I was glad that this threat was not carried out – one of the most horrible things that I can think of is to be made to lick that stuff up – I have never done that, I never want to do that – now I know that Mistress  will be reading this and now knows one of my all-time hates – I am being honest with her) Anyway, Mistress  was not happy with my dribble so she started on the old cock torture routine – with relish – now this is one Mistress that enjoys her work, ouch!

Mistress  then untied me from the cross, and removed the hood. What release – I hate hoods on for too long – it’s nice to come up for air!

Reid Zuta                     3/23/12

Dominion Staff Fantasy by Neil

He pulls on the restraints, testing them for what could have been the hundredth time.  His muscles tense, straining against the unforgiving leather straps that hold him captive.  Unsure how long he has been there, his mind goes over the  events that lead him to this moment.  She was a member of the Dominion staff, beautiful beyond words, with an attitude like none he had ever known.  Although She had exchanged pleasantries with him from time to time, he was sure that he was nonexistent to Her, how could someone so magnificent have any interest in the likes of him.  So when he received the note he was in shock, the first thought being that it must be a mistake, yet here it was.  "Be at My home at 7pm tonight.  Bring nothing but your body and your need to serve.  you will be given further instructions on your arrival."

At 7pm he was kneeling at the door, his heart racing, body trembling slightly, wearing nothing but the obvious desire to please.  The door opened and his heart skipped a beat, then he realized it was a female submissive, and he struggled to regain his focus.  The girl did not say a word, nor did she even look at him, she just turned and walked back into the house and he quickly followed.  She lead him to a beautiful room, on the floor were plush blankets and pillows, amber flames flicker in the fireplace and soft music playing in the background.  The girl took hold of his hair and guided him to the center of the blanket and began to bind him with leather straps.  First his ankles, knees, and thighs.  His wrists were bound to the strap around his waist, then his upper arms to the strap across his chest and the last one around his neck.  Each strap secured to the floor and he soon found himself totally helpless and unable to move in any direction, his only option, too wait.

He is suddenly yanked back to the present as an intoxicating perfume fills his nostrils and he realizes She has entered the room.  The click of heels on the hard marble floor sends shivers through his body but he still cannot see Her and he bites his tongue to keep from calling out.  Finally She moves past him, Her body swaying softly to the music, a glass of wine in Her hand.  He watches Her intently, hoping to catch Her eye but She pays him no attention at all.  She hums softly to Herslef, placing the wine glass on the mantel, She begins to remove Her cloths as she dances.  Unable to pull his eyes off of Her he realizes quickly that the dance is not for his benefit, but for Her own, it is as if he is not even there as Her body moves to the music and slowly strips until all that remains are the black, stiletto pumps.  Her eyes close and Her hands begin to move over Her own body.  He pulls on his binds needing to replace Her hands with his but is denied.
She smiles to Herself and then turns and looks at him for the first time, seeing both the frustration and desire in his eyes and knows he has no idea what he is in for this evening.  She moves and sways with more intensity, the sexuality of Her movements overwhelming him.  With the fluid movements of a Goddess Her hands glide down Her body as his eyes follow them over every inch.  For what seems like hours She just moves to the music, Her hands roaming Her body, touching every place he so desperately wants to touch.  He foolishly pulls on his binds over and over again as if somehow this time he will be able to break free..but each time his hopes are dashed.

Finally She dances to him, straddling his knees as Her body taunts him.  She lowers Herself to Her knees and begins to move, slowly crawling up his body.   She drags he moist sex over the tip of his hard member causing his body to jerk as She moves up his body.  She moves all the way up his body leaving tender kisses or sharp nips up his stomach and chest until She reaches his lips.  She runs Her tongue over Her full red lips and his mouth goes dry as he moans and almost speaks to beg for a kiss but Her look tells him not to say a word.  Her tongue slithers out and flicks his half open mouth then She rises up as Her body moves forward and She sits on his chest, Her moist sex inches from his mouth, Her sweet scent engulfing his nostrils and excelling his desire to new heights that he did not even know he could reach.  She takes Her index finger and slowly runs it between Her hot, wet lips and gathers up some of Her juices and then runs it over his lips, covering them like one would do with lip gloss.  She then begins to use Her fingers on Herself, given Herself pleasure knowing how much he wishes it was him pleasing Her.

She lies back on top of him as She pleasures Herself, feeling his cock twitch and pulse under Her head as She begins to writhe in pleasure.  All he can do is watch, the holy grail sooo close yet he cannot touch, cannot taste, only Her intoxicating scent as it enslaves him more and more with each inhale.  He trys to focus, using what he sees to learn what pleases Her in the glimmering hope that at some point he may have the joyous honor of servicing Her.  He feels Her body tremble and shake as the first orgasm fills Her, the sounds of pleasure from Her lips more consuming then the music playing in the background.

When Her orgasm subsides She sits back up, Her eyes half closed and She turns around and slowly slides down his body, leaving a trail of Her juices down his chest...he squirms, moans..but bites his tongue to keep from begging for release so he can take Her.  She sits on his pelvis, the tip of his cock brushing Her soaking sex as it twitches.  She runs the blood red nail of Her index finger up the underside of his cock then slowly wraps Her hand around it and strokes it a few times.  She tightens Her grip, tighter and tighter as the head expands and turns and even darker purple.  With Her free hand She captures the swollen head with Her fingernail, like 5, blood red claws, and moves Her hand first back and forth, then up and down...dragging them over the sensitive head.  The sensation was not pain, but one that he could not really even describe.  His body begins to shake and his hips push upward.  She release him and slaps both thighs hard, then drags Her nails up his thighs and takes hold of his cock in the same way again. Repeating Her actions but lets him know that he best not move again.  He groans, trembles, but somehow keeps from moving  as She continues to use Her nails on the head of his cock.

Finally She stops using the 5 fingers and uses just one, but it moves to his tiny slit and begins to run back and forth across it and finally ends with a hard flick of Her finger on the now ultra sensitive head.  Her actions bringing every nerve ending to life and then setting them on fire.  He takes a breath, his body weak, yet more excited then he can ever remember.  He gulps, moans and trembles as he feels Her run the head of his cock up Her slippery slit.  She guides his cock up and down Her, pulling and yanking it to place it where She wants it to bring Her pleasure and he realizes that he is just a toy for Her pleasure, but that he knows now that he does not wish to be any place else.

She releases his cock and turns around, taking hold of his rod once more She guides it inside Her and then sits down fully on top of it and begins to rock back and forth,  Her hands again begin to roam Her body, Her head falls back, eyes closed, mouth half open, sounds of ecstasy filling the room.  She rides as She brings Herself to multiple orgasms, yet able to read his body and stopping just short of his point of no return.  Finally She cums one last time, hard and panting as She collapses on top of him, his twitching cock still inside Her as Her muscles contract and release over and over again on him.  She drifts off to sleep on top of him, his cock throbbing with need inside Her, his need to take Her in his arms denied as was his orgasm.  He finally falls into a deep sleep, drained of energy but full of desire and need for release.

He wakes as She is sitting on his stomach, the heel of Her black spike pump pressing into his nipple as She attaches a simple yet elegant gold chain around Her ankle.  She smiles as She sees him waking and looking first at the heel, then the chain, and finally up into Her eyes.  He winces just slightly from the heel as it grinds into his nipple as She moves Her foot one way, then the other to admire the chain.  Then She runs Her finger over a small key hanging from the chain and smirks as She stands and places the stiletto on his cock, but the feeling is a dull thud and the sound was not from flesh..but from something else and he looks down to see the chastity device locked onto his cock.  She taps his aching balls with the toe of Her shoe, then lets a soft, yet evil laugh escape Her lips as She turns and walks out of the room.  

It Is Painful Not Being All I Know I Can Be by Anonymous

The pain of not being all you know you can be.

It is easier when i have One to serve, to obey, who knows and anticipates my wants and needs, and selectively administers them to me, in the manner of their choosing.

i have been blessed to have known One like this, and to have enjoyed this ease for a long stretch of time.

i do not mean to make this all sound so rosy.  It may have been easier, but that is not to say it was always easy, and life is a journey, and change is inevitable.

It is hard to be submissive, collarless, free, and to seek Another.

The very act of "seeking" does not come naturally to me, i ache to be found, discovered, cherished, and shaped.

But, and this is hard to write, hard to admit, hard to confess...

There are wants, and needs, and things that i seek, that gnaw at my thoughts and desires beneath that ever present urge to serve...

I remember like it was yesterday what She said to me as we were saying goodbye "in the end it will always be about You, what You want, won't it?"

That question, like a punch in the gut, painful because of the truth of it.  That is the heart of my dilemma, the core of the struggle deep within.

Recently i was a bad submissive.

I was bad not because someone told me so, or because i was punished for disobedience.  i was bad because i know i could have been better, could have served more dutifully, could have stretched further my willingness to obey without question...but i did not.

i do not believe in "have to's" or "should's"  i believe in personal responsibility and that every action i take is a choice, admittedly some choices made with more care than others.

These past few days i have asked myself repeatedly "what was i choosing?"   It's painful to ask myself this, to admit i have wants, admit i was choosing something when a part of me so desperately wants to choose to obey, always.

And still, repeatedly i chose to prioritize other needs even though i knew i was disappointing myself by making these choices.

I confess.  i have needs and wants.  i am a needy and wanting submissive.  i do not like it.  i do not wish to have this voice in my skull that is so wanting.  The lust in my veins that is so wanting.  i ache for the cool, serene, serenity of obedience, always...

It is painful to not be all you know you can be...

I am in pain.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

The Dream by Lady Maisy

The Dream
Maisy Dollinger

Sara had talked to Paul on numerous occasions about branding him, when he was hers during a long distance relationship, but she knew that he would only ever be branded by her hand and hers alone.  Paul had now moved into a position where he flew to different locations around the globe and it would only be a matter of time till he landed somewhere near London.

It was an unusually hot and humid August in London,  Sara had awoken that morning with an excitement, knowing his flight was due to land at about 1pm.  A car had been arranged to pick up her boy Sara met the driver first and gave him a small jiffy bag to be given to Paul when he was in the car.

During the weeks leading up to the trip Paul had been given instructions and was now in a state where he was just about willing to do anything he was ordered.  His balls were so full of cum and his cock would swell and push against his tight tiny whities every time he received a message from Sara with a new instruction.

After passing through security and before boarding the plane, he was instructed to place a tight steel cock ring round his cock and heavy balls, she wanted him to travel as if her fingers were wrapped around what was hers...gripping him...pulling him to her.  He was told to wear loose clothing but to control himself.  That cock was a loose cannon now and was peeking up and down on a regular basis…. the tension of knowing his instruction fought with his constant arousal left him feeling full of emotions and lustful anticipation for the journey ahead.  He had dreamt of making this trip for many years.  It was going to be a long flight and he was told to sleep as he would be needing to be rested for her.  She had plans to use him and to waste him, over and over… These thoughts permeated his dreams, he would be woken by his cock feeling the steel cock ring grip tighter, the pain making him harder.... imagining her voice, trying to get control of his cock.

When he landed he was met by the man Sara had sent.  The man was dressed in a casual suit holding up a sign for Mr Smallcock... a name Sara found amusing knowing how Paul would flush when he saw it.  As Paul approached he looked for Sara, sure she may have been watching him, but there was no sign.

The driver led Paul to his car, a standard saloon car, smaller than the ones Paul is used to travelling in, but as Sara had taught Paul, this is a small country with small roads, we need small cars.

Sara had arranged a package for Paul, a small envelope addressed simply to “Sara's” it was a soft package and as Paul opened it his cock instantly swelled as he pulled out a pair of purple Chantilly lace panties, with a note “wet from my morning masturbation as you were flying to see me…with love always Sara x”

Paul raised the panties up to his face… inhaling the musky aroma… closing his eyes… letting his tongue trace along the smooth moist gusset… tasting her.  He had dreamt of this moment for many years and he had to pull himself together as he realised he was moaning now audibly and leaving a noticeable wet mark in his on pants.

He held the panties and the note feeling flushed and happy and had no idea where they were or where they were heading.

The driver adjusted his rear view mirror and said to Paul.  “That is quite a lady who sent me pick you up. Very mysterious”

After driving for about 40 minutes, they arrived to a really ornate looking old world tattoo parlour and body modification shop.  A heavily tattooed lady opened the door and said “You must be Paul, come with me, Sara is waiting”

Paul looked back at the driver who just ushered him away “Don’t worry about your things, I'm going to take them to your hotel for you”... “have fun”

The lady who Paul thought was the owner led him to a back room, there was an electric reclining tattoo chair in the centre of the room and a fire burning in the corner, which made the room very warm on this hot this summers day.

“I hope you had a safe flight, but we have no time to chat, I will prepare you and leave you” she said to Paul, who was breathing heavily, he knew Sara was close he knew her perfume, her scent filled the air.  He knew her perfume from the scented packages he had been sent over the years... his heart raced.

“You need to get naked Paul and get on the chair, there is nothing to worry about”

It was unusual for Paul to be so quiet but Sara was close, listening, hearing his breath… his anticipation, it made her very happy… and twitchy.

Once naked Paul was strapped down using medical grade leather cuffs, attaching him at his neck, upper arms, wrists, waist, thighs and ankles.   There would be no moving.  The woman asked Paul where the package was and retrieved the panties from his jacket pocket, placing them now in his mouth as a gag.   Paul inhaled and sucked on the panties… cock now fully erect, waiting to be used.  The blindfold was the last to be put on and  it was such torment, he had wanted to see Sara walk in the room...the excitement and frustration battled within him.

Hard to move his head now, all Paul could hear was the poking of the fire followed by low voices, one he was sure belonged to Sara… this was the moment he had longed for....yearned and ached for….

Sara opened the door, and slowly walked towards Paul, kissing his head and resting her head there smiling happy… her boy, her toy, her rock… finally naked and bound ready to be used anyway she saw fit….

Sara and Paul had often talked of waxing him and there was a lot of hair to remove, it could have been fun, but it never happened… Sara had planned to remove the hair and prepare him her way.  She had some irons heating in the fire and told Paul he had to lie very very still… while she was telling him this her hand gripped his cock and pumped it, smearing the precum over his dickhead with her thumb, letting her nail flick the PA … he was moaning and nodding listening… but oh so very aroused.

Taking the small thin iron, she told Paul she did not want to sear him just yet… and to be very still…her fingers rolled the iron skillfully close to his flesh, he could feel the heat… the smell of hair singeing filling the room, mixed with the scent of her and her panties which filled his mouth, it was becoming the intoxicating cocktail that most boys could only ever dream of.

Paul stayed still and Sara worked various irons over his torso, his arms and his legs…. pleased with her work… she climbed on top of him…slid off his blindfold...looked him deep in his eyes and told him how happy she was he was finally there and how proud she was.  Paul was mumbling, visibly trembling...his cock now pushing against her…. she was amused and rose above his cock, squatting over it, teasing it, letting the PA run along her clit touching her hood piercing… Sara knew by fucking him there would be no turning back, he would be hers again and she lowered her cunt to his hard cock and contemplated it … he would be hers… he had already always been hers, but today would seal the deal… in a permanent way….

“You sure you want this Paul… this is permanent”

He nodded ferociously, well as much as his strapping’s would allow.

Lowering herself she felt his hot hard cock fill her, stretching her and she let out a moan… feeling aroused now for so long while preparing this visit, feeling her boy in her now nearly made her cum instantly… she raised herself slowly off her cock and down again… very slowly, very determined he would feel every part of her as he penetrated her moist tight cunt.

Bringing him to the edge.. over and over… his eyes watering, begging through the panties…. he was delightful to watch… Hers… Her tortured boy.

“I want to drain you Paul” Sara said.  “and when I do, you better make sure you really fill me up because you will not be cumming for a very long time”

Sara took the panties from Paul’s mouth and he panted “I love you so much Mistress, thank you”

Reaching up to his neck, she starting riding him again, holding him, holding his breath, pumping his cock hard with her cunt… He was flushed and the sweat shimmered over his body… “fill me up slut” she commanded… holding his throat tight… fucking him… “I want it all …” in that moment, his body shuddered and pumped her pussy full of his hot sweet cum… releasing his neck… collapsing herself on his torso, laying there… “Mmm now that was intense and fuck I love you” Sara said

They laughed a little as she held him and caressed his skin, it was blissful…intensely beautiful.

Sara decided to reward her boy and allowed him to clean her full pussy, lifting herself to sit on his face, talking to him all the time, telling him the plans, of all the fun vanilla things they will do while he is here…London Dungeons, Palaces, Theatre and dinners… all surrounded by her brand of kink.

“I have something very special to mark this occasion Paul.. but it is permanent and there will be no going back”

Sara returned to the fire and picked up an branding Iron, which bore her initial… an ornate looking S….

“Are you sure you are ready Paul?”

What Define's A D/s Relationship by Saniyan

Miss Zarita wanted me to write something , so I thought this would be nice and a bit wise :P

What defines D/s relationship?, I have been thinking about it lately, I have been in SL for almost 8 months now, and was collared for almost 5 months within that period, so I think I learned about D/s a little, every sub starts as a selfish person, I was like that too.

 I wanted to be owned so bad without knowing the purpose why I want it in the first place, then I started to change slowly I started to learn the core of D/s when I was owned, I realised both the Doms and Subs are very much alike, they are basically on the same line just at difference points. What the subs seeks mostly is not pain or pleasure , though that’s what we tend to like at first, all the subs are just looking for attention, we are like puppies we crave attention all we want at the end is for the Mistress is to be happy with her sub, It makes  subs very happy and proud when the Mistress says “good boy” it completes us somehow.

So what I think is the perfect scenario that defines D/s is simple and sweet it’s  when the sub is kneeling beside the Mistresses feet as she strokes the subs hair caringly that’s the perfect definition of  D/s entirely. It shows everything, isn’t it?

Tio's Confession

Her voice sounded clear as a bell, dispersing the clouded fog of my thoughts, bringing both clarity and order where there had previously been chaos.
Listening with the ghost of a smile upon my lips, corners of my mouth edging upward and letting the sound of her commanding tones become the centre of my world.
That first instant, it wasn’t so much what she was saying. It was that she was speaking at all. And more, that she was speaking to me. That rare moment of privilege.
Sensation of scattered thoughts coalescing, becoming one in their focus upon her words.
Into my private darkness I stared, the confining warmth of the blindfold stealing vision away, stirring the other senses to greater heights, commanding them to strain outward in an attempt to discern her movements, her nearness.
She’d spoken my name, as She had so many times, and yet again it made my heart leap, pulse rate suddenly increased and setting my system into overdrive.
The silence falling again, settling like a blanket over me. The sound of my breathing rhythmic and slightly rushed, it was the only sound, I struggled to hear beyond it in vain.
Then, there suddenly ahead of me, to my right. Once, twice, three times… the click of her heels on the floor and my form tensed, quivered in excitement. Reacting instinctively, pulling against the restraints she so skilfully bound me within.
My fettered form squirmed again as that silence once more stretched like an eternity, the sound of my breathing combining with the rush of blood in my ears. My own symphony, the sound of my body playing her tune.
Her heels clicked again, closer this time and I shifted. The sound of steel links clinking together as they held me in their unforgiving grip. She was close now, I could sense her.. the scent of her perfume. THAT perfume, and I groaned headily, that roiling heat spreading from my groin into my thighs and pit of my stomach. Seeming to remind me suddenly of my hardness, of my lust, of my need.
The touch of her nail, a single finger  at the very tip of my manhood and it jerked heavily. Swollen balls beneath pulsed and seemed to scream silently at me for release.
As that nail touched , oh so very briefly, so she spoke again. Simple words, meaning so much, saying all She needed to. Four little words that told me the session was over.
Unable to help myself I jerked and groaned with longing, unable to see the evidence of her handiwork, but I felt sure the swollen member between my thighs wept its dire frustration.
The echo of her words resounding through my mind and I heard myself beg, heard myself plead with Her. Some deeper stronger part of my mind wanted to stop, to keep my silence, yet it too was close to breaking, and so the moment of hopeless whimpering continued.
She repeated her words, exactly the same. Yet her tone stronger, firmer, leaving no room for doubt.
My throat clicked and I swallowed a sob, then sounded my thanks to her. Knowing better than to withhold that. Though it added only to the sense of helplessness, for once I’d said as much, so I felt the kiss of cold steel against the burgeoning head of my manhood.
The press, the push, the enclosing sheath working its way over still swollen flesh that only reluctantly softened sufficiently to allow it to become encased once more.
Then I waited, paused and tensed, knowing it was coming. Knowing it had to.
The single noise, the removal of hope, the full stop.
The click of the tiny padlock locking shut and shoulders I hadn’t realized were still tensed finally slumped.  Even behind the black veil of the blindfold I squeezed my eyes shut and felt my system adapt to the new depth of desire that consumed me in her name.
Worse than yesterday.
Better than tomorrow.
Day by day held to her will alone.

Thauron's Poem

The other Love

i love the way you force me to sit
i love the way you walk on me
i love the air you move whispng me
use me abuse me love me in the worst way you want i will love it anyway.
be kneel front you  make thrill my back make me desire to belong you more and  make turn up my eyes in orgasmic thoughts.
With love i m proud to be yours my Mistress.

A Most Ancient Love by Lance

A Most Ancient Service
by Lance Ducatillon

The smell of lavender lightly filles the air of the warm, dimly lit, bed chamber. Mistress lies in the center of the soft bed, most of her body hidden beneath the black silk sheets. Shadows from the many candles dance across Her long silky legs protruding from beneath the sheets from mid thigh. Her feet lay propped on pillows, her feet bounce seductively.

Naked, this slave enters his Mistress' chamber carrying a towel wrapped around a set of Emory boards, nail polish, and lotion. He unrolls the towel and places the items next on the bed stand by the foot of the bed. The freshly poured warm water sits steaming from the sunken porcelain bowl in the stand with several soft wash cloths hanging on the side. Mistress' favorite scented soap rests easily on the side of the basin.

Satisfied that all is in place this slave kneels before the feet of his Mistress, leans over and kisses the top of each foot. Soft, savory kisses at the base of each toe in succession. Finally this slave nestles his cheek atop of the feet ever so gently as he reverently whispers, "Thank You Mistress."

This slave then takes a wash cloth, soaks it in the steaming water and lathers it lightly. i turn and take a foot by the ankle with my strong hand, cradling it securely as my second hand lathers and cleans the foot. By the time the first foot is complete this slave can feel his cock straining against the confines of the chastity device. i do not know when or why i developed a wanting to worship the feet of my Mistress. Like so many other things, i just do, without question and with complete attention.

The soaped wash cloth is tossed into the receptacle by the bed stand for later laundering. With my free hand this slave takes another cloth and soaks it in the warm, steaming water. Returning to the attention of my Mistress i place the warm towel on her foot making sure to remove every trace of soap from Her hot, sensual foot. This slave raises his eyes towards his Mistress' eyes as he hears a soft moan. Her eyes are closed, one arm lays above Her head as She relaxes completely, absorbed by the warmth and strength now at work on Her smooth feet.

Once satisfied that the lather has been removed the wet towel is discarded and the towel is used to dry the tender, warm flesh in this slave's hands. The exact process is repeated in detail on Mistress' other foot. Soft sighs of pleasure penetrate the stillness in the air until they too cease.

Quietly this slave removes the basin and wet cloths from the room. When he returns he removes the pillows from beneath the lovely feet and covers his sleeping Mistress with a warm blanket. The Emory boards, nail polish and lotion will have to wait, Mistress needs Her rest.

This slave takes his place at the foot of the bed, his Mistress' feet mere inches away. Content, he pulls his sheet over his naked body and joins his Mistress in blissful sleep.

Augeson's Assignment

Auggie was a gift to me from Cat after the last auction, he didn't suit her, and offered him to me to help with a photography project.  After completing the picture, I asked him to make me a story about it, just a short vignette.  So the assignments was "Tell me what is happening here.  Who are these people, why are they here?" 

Panting, he gets back up on his feet and begins to cautiously move forward, persistently checking over his shoulder. "I wonder if she's still after me..." as the time passes his mind and body grow weak, being left with only two decisions.. do I keep walking? Or do I rest? Against his better judgment he finds a comfortable spot to post up for a few hours. "Here's a nice spot he tells himself" As he goes to sit down he hears something in the distance. Is it paranoia? Am I hearing things? Millions of possibilities begin to flood through my mind, my heart starts thumping. "Should I run!?!? Should I hide!?!?" As I slowly get to my feet, taking baby steps in the opposite direction, I start to hear the brush again, louder... closer ... "this is it" I tell myself.. if I run, she will catch me.. if I hide.. she will catch me. I tell myself I will not go back, I will fight! but another part of me is saying that I've already been down this road, and had my ass handed to me. Seconds go by "I need to make a decision quickly" I tell myself. I hear her voice, yelling, barking commands. She knows I'm here. I begin to break down. Just the sound of her voice instantly strips all my self confidence away, I begin to panic, each second she gets closer. I hear another crunch of a branch and instantly I stand up, running for the water. I tell myself "If I can make it to the water I might have a better chance!" Sprinting towards the water, my foot catches a branch and I tumble down a hill, hitting every rock on the way down. As I open my eyes there she is, towering over me, stick in her hand, war written all over her face. She looks just about as worn down as me! Why does she keep chasing me?! Why doesn't she give up?! I open my mouth to speak, but can't get the words out. She looks at me with confusion and disappointment and asks me if I'm alright to walk. "I look at her strangely and begin to climb to my knees" She takes a step back, unsure of my next move, hell I don't even know what I'm going to do next. As I begin to climb from my knees to my feet she stops me and whacks me across the back with the large stick, instantly falling to my knees again. I begin to tremble, curling up in the foetal position "Please stop! He whispers" unsure if its best just to keep his mouth shut.

  She stops, and looks at him. "Boy if you ever run off on me again I will kill you" I see hesitation in her jaw line. Oddly this gives me comfort. She tells me to get on my feet and begins to pace herself back towards land, climbing up the huge hill. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes meet mine. She doesn't need to say anything. I start to follow her up the hill, steadily making my way up the same hill I just fell down. As I finally near the top of the hill I see her kneeling off in the distance, obviously waiting for me. She motions for me to walk ahead of her and we begin our long journey home.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Heather Brat Confession

Dear Ladies & subs!

As you are all reading and listening to hot steamy confessions, we're living the life in London!!

I just wanted to leave you all with that idea.

*big smile*



The Crimson Armchair by Lady Clarissa

The phone rang at 7 pm. « Ready ? ». “Yes, My Lady. Ready for you”. “Fine… I like that. I’ll be here within half an hour my lil one”.

Half an hour waiting. Thirty minutes to tug at his shirt, verify everything is in place. One thousand eight hundred seconds listening to the loud beats of his heart, feeling the waves passing through his belly.

Respecting her will, he went in the countryside earlier in the afternoon, to gathered yielding branches on different diameters. When doing that, he felt excited, thinking of what for they were.

Coming back home, he prepared himself, slowly. At first, he undressed, made some fire and had a warm cup of tea, sitting naked on the carpet, facing the fireplace leaning back against a big red armchair. Within few hours, she will sit in it. Wrapped around her feet, he will suck her toes slowly, will climb up the leg sensually, licking her skin with the tip of the tongue. A light hit of the crop on his shoulder will indicate him to cross hands back. Only his mouth to please the Mistress. Eyes half closed, lips on-the-jar, he already imagined his mouth on her crotch, the taste of her pleasure. His reward for having been obedient ; he was proud of it.

He loved to keep his mouth on her for a long time, after she climaxed, licking her  clit, playing with his tongue  between her soft lips. At this right moment, she is as flimsy and weak as a puppet on a string. He feels powerful, taking daintily care of her. He loves that short moment, while she is combing his hair with her fingers.

“come closer, sweetie”

Like a snake, he crawls along her body till his head reaches her lap. He wrapps his arms around her, she puts her mouth on his head. He  moans something like “mmhhmm”. That means “I feel comfortable, keep me in your arms, kiss me, I love you”.

All that in a merely “mmhmm”.

He shook the head to come back to reality … No time to lose to be pretty ready … He had thought for a long time about what to wear, and did not really manage to decide between the tight jeans or the leather trousers, .

And what’s about the breast ? The blue shirt or the black striped Tee shirt ? A garment which is to be slowly unbuttoned or which quickly comes out over the head ? What will her desire be for that ? Best would be to choose in the last minute … he had thus left there his clothing wanderings to dedicate himself to the shower, the gumming, the removal of hair of his intimacy. Every time he so stripped off for her, the excitement gained him. He did that to obey, because she is her Mistress, because he is her subslut… The thought of these words was enough to arouse his belly. He slided a hand between his thighs, pressed slightly the flat of the palm, thought of that hand of her, soon … He felt he was becoming hard, some heat drenched him, the desire grew… But he removed the hand to remain wise till evening, hottie for his Mistress. He smiled thinking that he would tell it to her.

Coming out off the bathroom, wrapped in a bathrobe, he had a little rest in the big red armchair. The fire always crackled and spread a sweet heat. On the table, everything was ready according to her desires: the long blue rope, the black scarf, the crop and the branches picked up earlier, three clamps and the plug.

She hadn’t said something about it, but he had taken out his notebook of punishments. Had read it again… Two unpunished disobediences were left, of which a serious. During their first time together, he had resisted for a long time before prostrating himself and kissing her feet. He ignored why he had not been punished at once the next time, why this wait, but something was telling him the branches were going to answer party of his questions …

He always felt in wait of her, imagined her besides him… Feeling her glance put on him, he opens legs, lifts them up to spread each one on an armrest of the imposing crimson armchair. He burns so desire that automatically he slides a hand on his cock and balls, slightly pressing it.  He is hard. He casts a quick look at the clock. No time to lose. He quickly closes the legs, throwing away the temptation to touch himself, even only a little …

At first, the cream for the body, to make the skin supple, sweet and fragrant. Finally he chooses the blue shirt and the leather trousers. But before slipping it, he takes a tube of gel and presses a hazelnut on his major.

The finger slides between his soft globes, made for the spanking. It settles on his narrow ring and begins to coat it slightly, turns all around, pressing slowly in the entrance. It tries to force it little by little. He reminds the words of his Mistress : “Before dressing, you will prepare your attractive bottom and will grease it abundantly before you set the plug in place". He obeys, takes another hazelnut of gel and pushes the finger. He thinks that she is going to take him that way, probably standing tilted forward over the armchair, the hands taking support on the armrests; certainly after having been spanked and punished, with no doubt tied up too. He thinks that he is going to delightfully  feel her hands opening his buttocks unceremoniously, removing brutally the plug and coming to replace it with the strap-on, softly, but up to the bottom. She will still give him certainly some slaps onto each of the already very red cheeks and he will like that, terribly. Each time, he will say "thank you Mistress".

He will want more. he would like to cry for her. To cry the pain of his pleasure by shouting "thank you, Mistress", to kiss the hand which treats harshly him, and to thank her still and still for keeping him as hers. The plug slides without any trouble in the path of his buttcocks. He heaves a sigh of pleasure "it is so good”…

He gets up, slips into the grey boxer, the blue shirt and wisely sits down on the armchair, slightly rolling his hips from time to time to better feel the plug deep-set in his butt. He mentally sees his check list again  , verifies one thousand times when he forgot nothing of her orders, when everything is ready to receive her… He craves to see her, flows of desire and lets fly away his fantasies. Eyes half closed, he sinks in a beneficial torpor, fed by the heat of the fire and his deep inside bubbling … he offers himself by the thought when the bell of the telephone drags him from that sexy daydream… It is already seven o’clock …

Shadows Part 3 by Lady Persephone

She watched him dress in his one and only suit, sensed the hint of unease in his demeanour at the change in their routine. Both had always enjoyed routine, the little things that made her pulse race, heart melt, body blossom with desire. She also delighted in keeping him alert and on his toes. Just when he knew, or thought he did, what was coming next she changed the action or his perception and understanding of a situation.  Today was going to be one where his limits were pushed to the extreme, yet her long missive delivered earlier demanded that the following actions took place.

He followed her once more down the street bewildered by the purpose and barely hidden excitement of his Mistress, momentarily he thought her sanity compromised as she stopped at the lych gate  of the thirteenth century parish church of St Mary. Frost still lingered on the lichen edged ancient gravestones, mimicking the icy fingers of Death itself  winding around the last vestiges of mortal existence . He was stupefied when she entered the hallowed grounds she despised striding purposefully on the gravel path. Only when she reached the great oaken west door did she stop, speak without turning, informed him in a clipped even tone that they would marry, now, this very afternoon and that the ring was in his right hand pocket. He did not need to confirm this, his trust in her was absolute. Her only further instruction was that he made his vows bare footed.

How he admired his Mistress: in that next hour, the priest, Forbes the solicitor, and his two office clerks participating in what they knew was a travesty of most things they held dear and true. Most of all how She orchestrated the whole scenario for her purpose tightening the noose of the law so tight that none could evade her wishes, even after death.

His bare feet ached with the chill spreading up from the ancient vaults beneath him, the pain a vital reminder that he was owned; that in ancient times the father of the bride gave his daughter’s shoe to the new husband as a sign of ownership. He did not even have shoes for this ceremony, he was proud that the few there would recognise the significance of his barefoot state.
Elated by Her power and control he stumbled from the church behind her the recent moments a haze ,his eyes on the glimpse of booted foot under the long skirts.

Watery winter sun dipped and died, he lit the candles, prepared a light meal, brewed a pot of tea, knelt at her feet. She removed the ring, placed it next to the ink well on her writing desk; smiling she said that her fingers swell and there is no way she could wear it. They both broke into laughter, the sound ringing through the room and beyond into the crisp eventide.

Somewhere in  his love drenched head he pondered on what a wedding night consisted of for a well used submissive; his heart answered, to exist for her was all was everything…..tbc

The boy on the Beach and The Mark by Lady Crissy

The Boy on the Beach - The Lady's Story

She alights from the dance in the sky to land on the warm sands of the Dominion beach, a vision in black leather of dark desires and control. Noticing the sun setting over the water, She takes a moment to appreciate this very peaceful time at the sim.

She looks over at Her boy, kneeling where She left him yesterday, no doubt asleep at the computer again after logging on tonight and chuckles. Shaking her head, she makes a mental note to have him enable RLV so that she can keep her boy from littering up the place.  Either that or a nice cage... Hmm..  a thought to work on.

Smiling, She walks over to him and stands behind Her sleepy boy, looking down at him kneeling at her feet.   She looks him over slowly, noticing he's still wearing the suit he put on to present at International Women's Day. Too bad he missed it due to his crappy internet.   She remembered last  night after the event when he knelt in this spot and told her the story he wrote for the event while She listened.

  Leather covered gloves slide around his neck, fingers deftly undoing his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, sliding fingers inside to caress his chest under the fabric.  Leaning down and pressing close to his back, She presses her lips to his neck firmly, tasting Her boys skin as her fingers work the rest of the buttons on his shirt and she slowly pulls the shirt and jacket together back and over his shoulders so that his arms are secured behind his back.

With a small smile, she continues to kiss Her boys neck, her firm red lips leaving dark red smears of lipstick, then sinks her teeth into his flesh, the feel of the skin filling her mouth almost erotic as she marks his neck.  Closing her eyes, she can almost feel him stir at his computer in his sleep, the cock between his legs that She controls swelling as his Lady takes what his Hers.  Relenting just in time not to draw blood, She releases his neck, and looks down at the beautiful gift of Her attention that he will have to enjoy when he awakes.  She runs her fingers over the mark gently and then kisses it softly.

 Leaning to his ear, the boys Lady whispers, just barely audible above the waves off the beach.  "Sweet dreams, Mine, and next time... try Skype first,"  She laughs softly and stands, smoothing her skirt before disappearing into the air, musing at when her boy will awake and find out what he has missed.

The Mark - The boy's response

As he stirs from his dream he hears the ocean lapping at the beach. Sound always the first thing to come back and the last to go. But this dream was like no other -  it was so real, so vivid.

He opens his eyes slowly, the light bright and burning his sensitive steely blue eyes. An ache, but not in his head - no this is something different, the side. He reaches up and dusts the sand away from his hand and touches the side of his neck. The sore spot. He rubs gently and teases the mark with his finger tip.

So it was true. She had been here and had come to him in a dream to take what was rightfully Hers. He is, or was he always aroused?  She has this starnge effect on him. She knows what he needs before he does. She can anticipate him, out think him, yet always know what is best for him. He adores Her for it
He gets to his feet slowly, still touching the mark on his neck - her mark. He feels so proud to wear this mark. He wants to tell everybody, to show the world that he is owned by such a beautiful Lady.

He wanders around the beach hoping to see Her.  There are  no foot prints in the sand, no clue that she has ever been there, this magical Lady.  How is this possible? He goes back to the house, must have been a dream, must have he says to himself - then he remebers the mark....

Poem For Miss Zarita by Black

I wander abjectly through this place, always watching, picturing her face.
 Waiting for Miss Zarita to appear, to picture her near.
Her world 12 hours from mine, 12,000 miles in a line.
She treats me with deserved disdain but her words cause little pain.
My time as Starbucks, well, I did think “this sucks”.
Yet her attention I desperately crave, her strong voice echoes in the church nave
As naked  I kneel to pray, in penitence, not daring to play.
My body is cold on the stones, the wind freezing my bones.
Yet I continue in hope and I try not to mope.
I say aloud “Oh Miss Zarita, I am not for you yet no one is sweeter”.
I offer this poem in dedication, perhaps I need medication.
My frequent need for a  nap does make you snap.
But as I say "You are divine", I feel a shiver in my spine.
Please forgive my misdeeds, I only wish to serve your needs.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Shadows Part 2 by Lady Persephone

She had an appointment at the solicitors office at 9 o’ clock : Forbes of Swan, Joyce, Forbes and Jewkes had been the family solicitor for over three generations and was aware of every little skeleton hidden in the family’s rather copious and dusty closet. The boy dressed her, pulled on her boots, held the mirror before her to confirm all was right with her reflection . They then walked the short distance in the time perfected formation of their lives, he in her wake ready for the vaguest hint of a command.

Boy waited cap in hand in the outer office while She entered the dry dusty interior. Forbes rose to shake her hand and with no preamble she thrust the document into his hand. She sat, back straight, calm, determined to get the outcome she desired. The wall clock with it’s painted dial and oak case ticked the minutes as Forbes absorbed the words before him. He licked his lips and sat back, looked up at her, formulating his response. As he opened his mouth to speak she held up her hand,
“ I know it is somewhat unusual, but I believe all the instructions in the document are well within the law”
She was not asking and he knew it. A longer silence followed , measured by the wall clock in heart beating time; accentuating the expectation that impregnated the air. Then his response…..
“ I should advise you that whilst the letter of the law is adhered to in your will, administering it might prove somewhat difficult”
 His words were delivered slowly as if he were seeking a way to prevent her wishes being granted, yet could find no chink in her carefully scripted  final wishes, which lay flat and accusing on the desk before him.
“Forbes,” ( she pronounced his name in a way that ensured he realised he was in the fortunate position of managing her affairs)
“I am confident you can and will arrange my last wishes precisely as the document dictates”
She sat perfectly still and waited until with the slightest inclination of his head he confirmed he would comply.
She rose to leave before more could be said, offered her hand; this time he bent to kiss the ring less fingers and arthritic knuckles. She contained the smile that threatened to reveal her exultation ; clicked her fingers as she left the room making her boy leap to his feet and take up his proscribed distance behind her.

Relaxation followed the early morning achievements; the sort that made her jubilant and euphoric. Boy was strung up like the piece of meaty property he was, bull whip resting in her hand the tail teasing his exposed inner thigh as he faced her; single tail play was her all time favourite, the sweet clean cracks the melody of her life; their lives.  The whip was like lightning from the hand of some ancient goddess snaking through the air; languid, precise, savage and sensuous. He bore the whip scars of earlier years now silvered as was his hair, each one cherished, each moment remembered. Every gentle stroke with its arcing graceful form more powerful  than any strong, untutored swing.  The air resonated with power and animal passion as the boy was washed into the space betwixt the worlds, she led, he followed, nothing could permeate or contaminate this perfect existence.

Later, still naked with fresh bruises to delight her gaze he served her a light luncheon. The icy winter wind invading every crack and crevice of the room served to remind him that he would soon warm the daybed on which she took her siesta, these days  he was invited daily to share it her body drawing the heat from his, and he giving it willingly. He requested to prepare for this eventuality and to his surprise she denied it, announcing that she had other plans…..tbc

Melt by Dondas

I looked up to see her standing in her uniform of long black boots and tight black bodysuit as her tongue lashed out instructions at me. Who was she to tell me what to do? Then I realised that she was one of those heartless controlling harlots. The type referred to as Domme. I had never actually met one until now, but she seemed like what I expected. Cruel, calculating and wanting to crush male kind. Intrigued, I decided to play along. I watched her interact with others in her strict manner. So many rules to abide by, and she knows them all.

The other boys seem to be captivated by her. They seem addicted to her criticism and the pain and judgement that she hands out. Curiously I watch on. I begin to see that what I had mistaken on the surface as venomous, goes much deeper. There is actually caring behind what she says. She wants me to be a better person. She loves her sisters so much that she wants them to be treated with respect. A few of them gather, and I listen to them laugh and talk. These Ladies sound human. What I had mistaken as cruel and calculating is really confidence, strength and intelligence. These are all qualities that I hold in virtue.

I open my mind and let one inside. I discover that they bleed, they care and they love with a passion and this one is the living and breathing fantasy of a woman that I have desired and searched for all my life. For once in my life I’ve found someone who accepts me for who I am. With her, I’m not weird or too kinky and my inherent will to please is welcomed with open arms. A feeling of freedom sets in as she holds me close to her bosom until our souls merge.

I am humbled as she places her heart in my hands. I promise not to break it..

Friends Poem by Lady Trinity

                            Four AM
 Its 4 o'clock in the morning
conversation not boring
though we all need to go to bed soon
we are  laughing and giggling like loons

We mostly talk of nothing
but it feels like we talked  about everything
it feels like i;m with family
when I talk to jade and Slackey

its 4 o;clock in the morning
tears are just falling
because i blame Bish for telling
about the razor, the  mannequin
the golf club and something about shaving

and Wheels  did not helped
when he took a picture and put it in text
In my saddest hour i, I found comfort
in my loneliest time  i found my friends
so if i loose sleep  so be it, its all good in the end

i have always valued my friends
like the rarest of jems
and those precious jewels to me
are Jade,Slacker, Wheels, and Kivy

Secret Desire by Anonymous

Tracing my finger nail along a smooth, moist line between your breasts,
Circling around your nipples, applying pressure with my fingertips,
I cup your nipple between my teeth and gently nip and suck.
Hearing you wince, I look up and smile,
Leaning over, my mouth covers yours as I push my tongue between your soft full lips and kiss you deeply,
My hands exploring your soft, fleshy, voluptuous body, luxuriating in your womanliness.
My own sex throbs as you tremble at my touch, your body aflame with wanton desire
I climb over and above you, grasping both wrists, I lift your arms up above your head
Looking down, close to your face,  I murmur, ‘Now you are mine, my girl, my pet, all mine’

Chasing Shadows by Gia

Chasing Shadows
By: Gia Reverie

The sun’s setting
And the shadows linger...
Spreading throughout my mind.

Feeling, with outreached fingertips
Longing to sense something obtainable.


Ghosts accompany me
In the darkness...
Yet I can feel the light.

Slow and steady breathes
Visible in the bitter cold.


Goosebumps arise upon
Desolate scared flesh...
Realization that I’m alive.

Alive, like the emotions
Swirling throughout my mind.


Palpitations of the heart
When the silhouette’s beckon...
Reassuring they’re not figments of the imagination

Visible, yet out of reach
The closer I come the farther they stretch


Mind, soul and heart
To the perpetual shadows that dwell...
Within my mind and in my line of vision.

Thriving, every moment
As they surround me.

Invisible yet real.

The Envelope by Heather

I looked at the handwriting on the envelope and flipped it in my hands over and over again. I had no idea who the sender was. The handwriting was curly, it looked very sophisticated. I opened it slowly, almost afraid to damage the envelop or the letter that would be inside it. I love handwritten letters, they are so much more personal. I wanted to skip the letter and find out immediately who wrote it, but it wouldn't be as much fun. Letters are in some ways, are like orgasms, you want to build up the tension, not knowing when or how it's going to explore. At least, to me, they're like orgasms, like reading a good book, profited the writer understands this.

I slowly started reading. There was no, "Dear you, dear love, or hi sweetheart," or anything like that. There was just the letter.

"I want you. Your body. Your soul. Your mind. And eventually, your heart. Not right away. One step at a time."

I smiled.

"I envision you. I dream about you. Naked. Tied up. Unable to speak."

I gulped.

"I crave you. Discovering every inch of your body. As slowly as I want. As I desire. After all, it's all about me. I want to tease you. Tantalize you. Mesmerize you."

I softly moaned, slightly aware of the wetness between my legs.

"I will have you. I will have my way with you. I will have you on your knees. I will have you pleasing me. I will have you.. do whatever I want."

I bit my lip, eager to read on.

"I will tease you. I will run my nails down your back until red welts appear. I will whisper sweet nothings in your ear. I will run my fingers through your hair, until you are relaxed. When you least expect it, I will grab you by your hair until you realize who is in charge."

I twirled a strain of my hair around my finger, like I always do, when I'm concentrating.

"I will endure the coldness of ice in my mouth, just to tease your nipples with them. Until they are rock hard. Until you are scared they will freeze off. That's when I will take it in my mouth, lick it, bite it, flick it with my tongue, until you beg me to stop."

I could feel my clit starting to throb.

"I will slide my fingers down your pants. I will moan at the touch of your wetness and whisper to you in no uncertain terms, how much I enjoy your wetness. I will slide my fingers inside of you, one after another, and make you beg for me to take you. To fuck you."

I pushed my legs harder against each other.

"I will tease you endlessly. I will take you to the very edge of your orgasm and stop. Not once. Not twice. But as many times as I want to. You will beg for permission to cum. And if you're a good girl, it might let you."

I squirmed.

"I will claim you. As mine. Not today. Not tomorrow. When you're ready. When I'm ready. Until then, you will have this letter. My gift to you. A promise. Something to look forward to."

There was no name. Nothing to indicate who wrote it. It didn't matter.

For the first time in months. I smiled a genuine smile.

Some Things Change by Lady Crissy

Some Things Change...

As I walked toward the doors of the bar I could hear the murmur of voices.. laughing intermingled with a Bluesy tune drifting from under them.  I remembered back to the first time I had come here.  A beginning of sorts.

My toy had invited me here, well before he became Mine, his nervousness evident in his voice, his manner, and in his fumbling effots at conversation.  We chatted, then danced briefly upon parting.   Here and now, a slow smile spreads across my face as I consider how much has changed.

I look back over my shoulder, seeing My toy a couple of paces behind me and to the right as he has been trained is his place.  The boy I spent time with that night has been transformed into this toy - whose existence revolves around me, my pleasure and will, and yes, my amusement.  I could feel his full attention on me.  Silent and waiting for some word, some signal that I had need of something from him.  

Stopping at the door, I pause.  I turn and head to walk around the side of the building instead of going in the door.  Walking down a fair amount of distance, I stop.  The music is very faint here, muted, the voices inside the bar barely audible.

I turn to My toy, one of my hands going to his shoulder, squeezing it firmly.  He looks at me briefly, then down, demurely.  I can feel the tension growing in his body, trying to determine my intentions.

Stepping behind him, my hands go to his waist and I push  him forward toward the wall.  "Lean against it." I say into his ear, no louder than a whisper.

I can hear his breathing quicken, and I release his waist to take his hands in mine.   Placing them on the wall above his head, he leans forward onto them.  I smile. He knows what I like.  He simply obeys, no words are needed.  Perfect.   I gently kiss his neck to show my approval, feeling him shiver gently with pleasure.  Pressing my body against his back, I slide a foot between his two, and spreads them apart further.

Still pressed to him, my fingers find the zipper to his pants and unzip them slowly.  I can hear the sharp intake of breath and a soft moan, which makes me laugh softly against his neck.  My fingers slide inside next, wrapping around what is Mine and pulling out his cock from his pants.  I wrap my fingers around the already hard flesh and begin stroking him, my hand moving at a steady pace, then quickening.  I can listen to the sounds of My toy's breathing and panting and tell exactly how close he is.  As I slide my hand up and down, I can feel the cool metal ring at the base of his cock that I had placed there before he dressed.   I could tell that it was taking all his focus to not cum and I could smell the fear rising in him that he may not have enough will tonight.  Only when I hear the first whimpers of panic do I stop completely and let go.

Laughing, I put my hands back on his hips.  "Put it away, toy. That's enough for now."   I slap his ass hard through his   pants and begin walking back to the doors slowly, giving   him a chance to put it away and pull himself together. Soon he catches up, smoothing his clothing, and taking a deep breath.  However there isnt any hiding the bulge in his pants since I insist he go commando and I chuckle to see the firm outline pressing against the fabric.

He opens the door for me when I reach it, and the warm, welcoming sounds spill out.  A live band is playing on the small stage and the crowd is chatting, dancing and enjoying the music.

I feel like dancing, so I take My toy's hand and head to the middle of the floor.  Pulling him close, I look into his eyes,    and a warm smile lights up his face.  "Thank you for the    dance My Mistress,"  he says.  "And everything you see fit to give me,"  he adds, his face flushing.

The bar looks the same, the worn counters, stools, even    the music is much like the first time we were here. Its        funny how some things stay the same, and others change profoundly.

The End

A New Way by Anonymous

A new way

I watched you from afar
No intent
No desire
You travelled around the circle
I was not impressed
But you made me smile
But I kept my distance
My world rolled round
Yours did too
We spoke occasionally
Nothing of consequence
A friendly banter here and there
Both with seperate connections
Now and then I looked over my shoulder at you
No intent
No desire
The one I looked down to
He was emotional
He was dramatic
he was gone
The one you looked up to
She was emotional
She was dramatic
She left you
I saw the hurt behind your words
You laughed
Brushed it off
But I saw
A thaw started
I watched you a little closer
Warmed to you
There was intent
There was desire
A new way of thinking
Until my leash
Attached to your collar
I looked down to you
A hand stroking your cheek
You looked up to me
A cheek leant against my hand
Nobody sees
The roots starting to grow
Pulling us closer together
And now I see you
I hear you