Saturday, March 30, 2013

Playtime by Lady Justine

PLAYTIME I by Justine

This is how it was planned and how it will go, and will always go, just as I like it.

Hearing his slow footsteps on the stairs, I'm waiting in my study, smoothing my stockings as I listen attentively for  the sound of the bedroom door opening.

He had followed my commands as planned, texting me when he turned into my street, finding the door to the street ajar. I had left a carefully penned note, a white rosebud on top of it, instructing him to leave his jacket and phone in the marble hallway.

The rustle of paper alerts me that he has found the second pale purple envelope, the note that reads "Take off your clothes and fold them. Sit down on the chair and blindfold yourself". I hear him walk about, his slow and deliberate movements, the creak of the wooden floors under him.

The sounds stop and I press the remote to start music in my bedroom, the faint murmur of a Sigur Ross song. I wait, controlling my breath and feeling my skin flush with anticipation.

Opening the door, I am struck by the beauty of his pale skin, the lightbrown hair, his long, lean body on the transparent Louis Ghost chair. I observe his chest expand and his upturned face as he hears me enter the room, my heels tap on the floor. On the sideboard, neatly arranged, are his collar and cuffs. Caressing his cheek with my nails, I see him open his mouth in anticipation and I can't resist slipping two fingers into his mouth, pressing his tongue down, exploring his lips and teeth, relishing the intimacy.

The leather of the collar smoothly folds around his throat, the leash snapping with a dry click into place. I appreciate the silence of our exchanges, being able to pinpoint the exact moment when this proud, assertive boy lets go of his inhibitions and his reserves. "Get up", I whisper, pulling his leash and making him bend over the end of the bed. Placing a hand on his back, my sharp nails digging into his sensitive skin, I kick his naked feet with my high heeled shoes to make him spread wider. I smile as I see him nervously lick his lips and swallow hard, his excitement unmistakable.

"Mine..." I whisper, running my hands over his buttocks, feeling him tense in anticipation. Stepping back, I pull the chair close, sitting behind him, taking the time to observe him from behind. A soft moan escapes him when he feels that he is left waiting. Taking the crop from the sideboard, I tease his skin with the supple leather. His excitement is infectious and I let the crop hit the back of his thighs and yanking his leash backwards to arch his back. Tracing the marks with my fingers, sweetly, teasingly, I call him my sweet beast, before striking him a second time, a third, just enough until my desire calms and his skin is blotched with red marks

To be continued

One Enchanted Evening Part Two by Anonymous

One Enchanted Evening - Part II

At the end of Part I, the Lady and Her boy were dressing for the big party and about to leave....

The traffic was fairly clear, and they arrived without incident in good time.  Plenty of fun would be afoot already and there would be well enough time for what she had planned.  Arriving at the party, it was clear to any on-looker that this was a party for "those people" - the kinky, the pervs, those brave enough to come out and celebrate their inner fetishes among like minded consenting adults. These were the delightful deviants I called friends, converging to feed their inner desires.

As we approached, we saw others that proceeded us on the winding path to the manor, and they gave us a taste as to what was in store past the entrance doors.  The first was a woman, tall with her black hair worn long, straight and sleek. She was dressed in a long silk black sheath dress, cut up the side to her hip, net stockings underneath, long shapely legs leading down to short black leather stiletto boots.  She was accompanied by a male, hand and arms bound behind his back in a leather armbinder, his only covering a pair of very short leather shorts and a simple pair of short boots.   He was gagged, the red ball bright against his tan skin.  The collar around his neck had a chain leash attached, and the lady held it in her hand, leading him along.  His eyes were wide, and darted from side to side, and I imagined this being his first time as well..  How sweet.  The woman, in contrast, strode confidently and cooly toward the building.

The second couple was composed of two women who laughed and held hands on the way up the path.  One was tall and lithe, dressed in a very tight leather catsuit of red, studs up the sides of the legs and arms.  Her short red hair was boyish, but her face and make up were purely femme fatale.  The other was of smaller stature and wore a leather bra and short skirt which left nothing to hide.  As we continued up the walkway, the taller woman slid her hand under the short skirt, which made it ride up to reveal her shapely bottom and straps which I guessed were part of a chastity device of some sort.  She put her hand over the other's bare ass and smacked it with a soft laugh, and a squeeky yelp was the response,  before she took the girl's hand again to proceed up the walk.

I walked to the door with my boy close at hand, and stepped into the foyer.  I smiled at the two boys who were greeting the guests as they arrived, and hugged the one that was tall, blonde and very well muscled.  I slapped the boy, Brian,  playfully on the cheek as he grinned.  He had been recently released from his collar and had no doubt volunteered to show that he intended to remain as a part of the community and wanted to do his part.  I introduced my boy to him and they exchanged a look that was both polite and knowing.

Brian explained the set up, the areas available tonight.  I could imagine my boys mind racing as Brian enumerated the seven deadly sins and each of the oases of pain and pleasure to be found throughout the manor.  I cataloged the imagery in my head for a later date, having arranged well before this night for what awaited us.   But even though it had been planned for some time, my mind was still plotting the moves, enjoying the possibilities of how the night would transpire.

Past the foyer it was noticeably warmer, and we again saw the woman with the bound boy.  As I walked to the side of the room to a table filled with metal boxes, my boy followed.  I took an empty one and set it on the the table in front of us.  The woman four feet away was already undressing the boy she brought.  She took off his shorts and chuckled, loosing his hard cock and slapped it firmly.  He yelped behind the gag and she looked as me and shook her head as if to say  "boys".   We shared a look and both laughed softly.  I could see from here he was starting to sweat.  Lucky boy.

I snapped my fingers, startling my boy who was watching intensely, entranced by the first time he had seen such semi public dis(play).  Interrupting his unintentional voyeurism, I turned to him and raised an eyebrow as he blushed.  I cocked my head and pointed to the box.   He quickly got to undressing then, taking off the jacket, shirt, then pants and boxer briefs.  I watched carefully, as I never tired of watching his unwrap his body for me.  He hesitated at taking off his underwear, but a clearing of my throat, put him back on track. Fully undressed in front of me, he was lovely.   It always made me hungry to use him in some rough manner, and being this close to the energy of sex and delicious kink made it even more so.

When everything was in the box, I shut the lid and locked it, taking the key and handing to to the boy in attendance with a nod.  I  turned to appreciate the goods.  He swallowed nervously and looked around self consciously, until I put my hand on his chin and turned him back to face me.  His eyes shone with excitement and nervousness and he smiled.  I could tell it was an effort to keep his hands at his sides and not cover himself,  and I wondered if I should have brought the cuffs.

I looked at him then, letting him see the hunger in my eyes.  I let it sink in and watched the look in his eyes shift to that very subby and calm place, open to me and what I would need of him. His greatest need to please me, everything else fading from focus.  I put a gloved hand on his chest, and I slowly pushed him back, forcing him to step backwards until he moved back and past the curtains covering a small storage area.  It was probably the area used to store the boxes I guessed, it was just the right size.  I moved in past the curtains as well, following his backwards steps and remaining close. Once clearing the curtains, I took a step closer and pushed him hard against the back wall which he hit with a thud.  His smile faded and he nervously swallowed as I quickly closed the gap between us.

I pressed my body hard to his, and slid a hand behind his neck, squeezing it as I kissed him suddenly and hard.  My other hand wrapped around his cock and I squeezed it firmly, feeling him whimper and moan against the bruising kiss. He was quickly hard in my grip and I broke the kiss to laugh wickedly, sliding his hard cock between my thighs and clamped them around him, holding him tight.  His sharp intake of breath was cut short as I grabbed and held him by the hair, kissing him again, this time deeply, thrusting my tongue into his mouth as he moaned.  I devoured him with my mouth and my kiss, feeling his hands move to my back to hold me tightly to him.  I slid my other between us to pinch his nipple hard between my fingers and twisted, holding it. It seemed a long time there, though I know it was not, feeling my heat rise.  

I broke the kiss suddenly, letting his head go and enjoyed seeing the results.  My lipstick was smeared over his lips, his face flushed, his breathing almost a pant.   I let go of his nipple and took a step back after releasing him from being trapped between my thighs, breaking his embrace.  I gently dabbed at my lips to correct any smearing.  "Come along now, toy, "  I smirked, taking a long breath, enjoying drawing out my desire to take him.  As he pulled himself from the wall, I stopped him with my hand on his chest.  "Wait right there, fucktoy,"  I said firmly.  

 "On your knees, bitch,"  I ordered, and watched a flash of fear as he sunk to his knees.  I stepped closer to him until his face was eye level to my pelvis.  "Clean up your mess, whore."  I instructed and slid my dress up, parting my thighs so that he could see the precum his leaking cock had left.   He moaned deeply, and with hunger in his eyes, moved to gently lick the wetness from my skin, soft whimpering from his lips, being so close to my sex.  I know he could smell my own excitement and arousal, and I stroked his hair gently, enjoying the feeling of his gentle tongue and trembling body leaning against me as he licked.

"That's enough, slut."  I said, stepping back and pulling my dress down.  His eyes looked for a moment that he would cry, his eyes moist, but as I stepped out of the curtains he was closing his eyes and trying hard to calm himself.  I gave him a moment as I smiled and nodded to the other guests coming in.  "Come along now, boy,"  I called to him from the other side of the curtain and stepped further into the area, away from the storage room.  He emerged a moment later, still a bit shaky, no way to hide his erection and the wetness at its tip.  The woman standing next to me as he came out whistled her approval.  "He's a bit excited.  His first time and all," I explained,  wrapping my hand around my boys cock as began to lead him into the debauchery.

The end of Part II

A Thorough Exam Part Two by Lady Lira

A Thorough Exam - Part Two
by Lira Savira

Kevin was once again lying on the examination table staring up at the ceiling. His clothing was folded in a very neat pile on a nearby table. It had been nearly three weeks of waiting to be called back. He thought he would be nervous to be here again, but instead felt more of a quiet sense of expectation as he waited. He noted that the familiar doctor's office smells were somehow comforting. He could smell the floor cleaner, hand soap, and rubbing alcohol.

He heard the click of the nob turning and did not move, though a ball of excitement was expanding in his stomach. He took a few deep breaths slowly through his nose. He started to smile as the beautiful Dr. Cameron stepped inside, but hesitated, unsure if she would like that or not. He was greeted with her usual superior smirk and saw her eyes immediately dart over to the piles of clothes. She raised her eyebrows a bit seeing them laid out so neatly. She was still wearing that odd black lab coat and her dark, blonde hair was pinned up in a chignon.

As she came further into the room, he noticed another figure following behind her. The figure appeared as the doctor moved toward the sink. She was an older woman, hair silvery white and obviously professionally styled. He guessed her age at perhaps 50 or 60, though her skin was beautiful and nearly without lines. She appeared very glamorous and well kept, like a movie star. His heartbeat quickened and the old nervousness began to return when he saw the cold glint in her eyes that could not be hidden by her beauty or sweet smile.

She was not wearing a lab coat, but instead a very stylish and probably expensive cashmere suit. Dr. Cameron eyed his naked body as went over to wash her hands. She said calmly, her tone professional, "Good to see you're being more tidy, Mr. O'Donnell. This is Dr. Miranda Priestly, a retired neurobiologist, and a sponsor of the program. She gestured toward the intimidating woman with her eyes. Kevin gave the barest of nods and began to feel goose flesh rising on his skin as the two women stared at him silently for a few minutes.

Dr. Miranda did not greet him but instead continued to appraise him as she remarked to the other woman, "You're right, he is well kept." After a few minutes more, she sighed softly and said, "Alright, let's bring in the other one and the machine." Kevin thought that a very strange thing to say, but kept quiet and remained laying on the table. Dr. Cameron headed to the door of the office and opened it briefly. He could just barely hear her muffled voice say, "Come in here now, we're ready." She opened the door a little wider and another boy, about his age came in. He was also completely nude and obviously had been for some time. His skin was a bit blotchy from being exposed in the cold office.

Kevin felt a red hot blush rise up through his neck and face as he began to become aroused thinking about being left in the outer office naked. He was afraid the doctors and the other boy would think it was from something else, but he could not stop it. Dr. Miranda gave the acknowledgment of noticing is plight with a sly smile. Dr. Cameron pushed the other boy further into the room a little roughly, and moved past him to a large side door that Kevin had not realized was there before.

From a very large dark closet, she began to wheel our a large metal rack with two small computer monitors wedged into metal compartments on either side. From his laying position, Kevin could not see the top of the rack, only a sort of sidelong view. However, he did see the other boy's eyes grow wide with surprise and this made him very nervous. Dr. Miranda gestured to him with a hand to get up from the bed with one hand and to the other boy with the other. "Come along, Mr. O'Donnell, and Mr. McAvoy.

Kevin got up and saw the other boy almost back up as if to run. His eyes even darted toward the door. He wondered if he should be thinking that himself but he was far too curious now to want to leave. Dr. Cameron also noticed the boys posture he saw. She gave him that smirk and raised an eyebrow whispering softly, "Well, Mr. McAvoy? You don't want to be released from the experiment do you? Want to go home and not be invited back? If not, get over here so you can be set up for the tests." The other boy was visibly torn and obviously the threat of being forced out of the program was a greater than the possibility of losing money from it.

Kevin's attention was so taken by the others in the room and their varying reactions that he forgot about the machine. He finally looked over to get a good look at it - and gasped. The rack seemed huge now that he was standing right next to it. Dr. Cameron walked over and took his arm roughly as Dr. Miranda nudged the other boy in the direction of the machine. He did not resist as he was made to stand on one of the two platforms. The doctor stood on a step stool and strapped his wrists to restraint cuffs at the top. He feet also were cuffed to either side of his section. He saw the other doctor was doing the same with Mr. McAvoy. Soon they were both naked, shivering, unable to move, and having electrodes attached to various parts of their body.

The monitors were turned on and a strange humming sound came from inside the large metal divide between the two attached platforms. Suddenly, a compartment opened on either side, and a column of what somewhat resembled the spinning wheels on a car wash, only smaller, moved out on rods behind each boys body. The rods where tall and moved interchangeably.

There were facing away from the doctors and Dr. Cameron came around to look at them both. She said calmly, "Kevin...James...the restraints will keep you safe during the experiment. Do not try to break your restraints that could be very dangerous. During this experiment, we are going to try to see if it is possible for either of you to read the other one's mind while under physical duress. Naturally, our purpose is to see if the brain is more capable of telepathy when under stress." Both boy's eyes widened and James became to whimper very softly. Dr. Cameron smiled and returned to the back, so neither she nor the other woman could be seen.

She picked up her clipboard and began to push a few buttons into both monitors to start the sequence. She looked at Dr. Miranda and queried, "Ready to begin? I'm very interested to see what results we get this time." The wheels on the rods began to whir, whipping out stinging tendrils to smack both boys on their backs, buttocks, thighs, legs, ankles. The rods rotated so that not all were whipped at once, but alternated in a whirring blur of pain. Both boys cried out loudly, moaning and erect in the suffering. Dr. Miranda smiled at Dr. Cameron as she made a few notes on her own clipboard and watched the boys try to shy away from the spinning hell licking at their skin. "Yes, this should be very interesting indeed."

Confession Of Leonard Darkwatch

I was asked by my lovely Mistress Lira Savira to supply a Confession for this event... I regret not being able to be here to read this myself for at the time of it's reading, I'll be knee deep in grungy tires and up to my armpits in old hot used motor oil.. I work in a garage as a grease monkey in RL. There is a point to this, I promise..

One of my deepest darkest desires involves anal play.. understand, I am quite straight and do not find men at all attractive (nothing personal)... But one of the things that drives me into a quivering mass is being used by a strong beautiful lady with her favorite strap-on.. For me.. it's insanely hot.

Here's the fantasy./confession....
In a garage after a hard days work, Still in uniform, my Mistress slips down the steps into the pit... ropes in hand, and ties me bent over the railing, tight enough to leave marks...
The garage is empty but the two of us... and soon without missing a beat, I hear the tell tale signs of a zipper being pulled down tight black leather pants.. I look down back and to the side.. and am met with the image of a strap-on, with dildo attached.

At first Im horribly apprehensive, but it's my Mistress.. So I yield without a complaint and relax completely as she withdraws a small bit of safe lube and preps for the procedure... coating the dildo and some fingers.. Things get really tingly as she prepares me for entry, fingering my tight anus.. slowly stretching and working it looser.

I feel what's coming as I'm slowly penetrated, grimacing from the discomfort.. Until finally its replaced with a deep pressure.. Every fiber of my being feels so violated and it turns me on so deeply.. It becomes evident very quickly throughout my body, that it's wanting more... I'm wanting more... Then, without warning.. my clever Mistress drizzles extremely hot dirty motor oil across my back.. Making me buck hard for a moment.. and... I should stop here.. *slows breathing*...

Yeah... this is my fantasy. My confession. Its not much.. but... yeah..*shrugs* Please forgive the rather sloppy delivery, but I think it gets the point across.. :)
I do hope no one thinks Ill of me..

Respectfully and honestly submitted by
Leonard Darkwatch.

Mine by Lady Tora

It was almost two years to the day; our relationship coming to a grand finale in what seemed out of the blue but as I reflect back on it now, it had ended before it even started.

I was a fool.  A huge blind fool who choose to ignore the small signs.  I dismissed the passing twinges that pulled at my subconscious.  I made excuses and looked the other way when something didn't feel right.  The good parts seemed to out way the bad.

And now he is gone but the last two years linger like an echo.  Everything playing back in my head over and over; trying to figure out what the hell happened.  How I let this happen.  Was I really that stupid?  Why did I not realize that I was giving all of me to him and getting very little back?

He was supposed to be the one I could be myself with; the one who knew me the most.  He was suppose to be here for me, matter the most to me; he was suppose to be the one.  He was suppose to be mine. Mine!  Mine...

That single word struck a cord and everything suddenly became clear.  It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.  My knees crumbled and I sunk to the floor.  Tears trailed down my cheeks but they were not tears for him.  They were tears for me because I had realized that he never was and never will be mine.

Bondage Story by Anonymous

Bondage story

The ropes,
    they can be soft,
    hard, strew, and tight
Tight around  limbs, wrists, ankles and chest
Ropes of hemp,
    or a material of choice
Ropes are flexible, and can be knotted
Ropes to tie down,
    secure ,
    and it is called art
Rope artists are into something called Shibari
Ropes encapsulate the strength inside when bound,
The ropes enables strength,
Fights them and but being taught to surrender, to relax.
If I am restrained in ropes will it get me focused?
Is the  trick is to relax,
    and start to listen on what is required from me.


John's Long Journey Into Night - Part Two by Doc Nolan

John’s Long Journey into Night – Part Two
Synopsis of Part One:  John, recently divorced, goes to his high school reunion, and is spotted and persuaded by an aggressively fascinating lady classmate he barely knew to come to her house.  Leonore knows John is a man seeking purpose and direction – and sees opportunity written all over him.  At her home John he finds a woman (Mandy) sitting with her feet atop a cage containing her husband. John is floored!
Mandy, looking at John’s shocked face began giggling at first.  Then she began chortling.  And then she started laughing.  Leonore grinned.

“His face, Leonore.  His face! “, Mandy managed to spit out.  “You didn’t tell him, did you?  You fucking bitch.  He’s cherry and you didn’t tell him, did you?”

Leonore walked over to the sofa, sat down beside Mandy and ignored her question.  “John,” she said, “Sit on the throw rug!”  John, frozen, was still staring.

 “Goddamnit, John, NOW!”

He dropped.  And he mechanically said, “Yes, Miss.”

Mandy broke into laughter again.  “Fuck, Leonore.  He may be cherry, but you got this one trained fast!’  Leonore smiled, and replied, “I guess I’m just talented, Mandy, right?”  Mandy nodded.

John’s eyes shifted back and forth between Mandy and Leonore.  He knew he shouldn’t but his eyes moved from Mandy’s exposed breasts to Leonore’s hidden ones.  ‘This is so wrong,’ he thought.  He felt his cock becoming engorged.  He wasn’t thinking about the whole situation.  John was simply thinking: ‘I shouldn’t be thinking of their breasts.’  Actually it was worse.  John was wondering if Leonore wore a lace bra…. What color it might be… if her nipples were erect…. If they were pierced….   “Stop,” he told himself, regaining control over his runaway reptile brain.  He took a deep breath.

“Hello, John!” said Leonore.  “Knock, knock.  Are you home?”  It was obvious that John was in shock.

“Yes, Miss.”

“John, I think you owe Mandy an apology!  I saw you looking at her breasts just now.  Weren’t you, John?”.  He nodded.

“Well, Mandy, what do you think we should do with John for being so … bad?”  Leonore was grinning ear-to-ear.

Mandy cocked her head, smiled and then simply said: “Put the fucker in his cage!  Naked! “

Leonore, still smiling, looked at John as she replied to Mandy, “Yes, I agree.”  She then said to John: “Strip, John.  I want every piece of fucking clothing off in 60 seconds and I want you in that cage the moment you finish.  NOW!  Get moving!”  Her voice had gone from sweet to drill-sergeant tough in seconds.

John’s mind froze, but his fingers got busily to work.  He observed himself eagerly complying.  His cock had taken control.  His maleness had pushed common sense and all self-directed thought out of consciousness.  John’s only concern now was to please and to comply – and hopefully to both titillate and delight.  His focus was no longer on himself.  It was on doing as he was told.  He felt overpoweringly good as their desires, wishes, and commands took over.

Once he had disrobed, Mandy stood up. “What the fuck was his name again, Leonore?”  Leonore said, “John”.  Mandy looked at him, giggled and said, “I don’t like that name.  You, mister, will now respond to a new name….  Mandy paused.  John noticed she had drained her glass of wine.  She was thinking.  Hard.

 “Rover!”  Yes, at least with me, you’re now “Rover”.  She looked over at Leonore, who was sipping her Merlot slowly.  There was a silence.  Then Leonore spoke: “Yes, I like that, Mandy.  Rover.”  She stared at John, noted with satisfaction his semi-erect cock, and said, “Excited, Rover?”  John nodded.  Vigorously.  Mandy spoke next.

“Oh Leonore, I really thought you going to that reunion was a dumb idea.  Whoa, was I wrong!  This fucker is something else again!  Does he have lots of limits?”

Leonore turned.  “We haven’t gotten that far yet, Mandy.  I decided to throw -- Rover -- into the deep end of the pool and see if he could paddle.   I had a feeling he was ‘prime meat’ waiting for a strong woman….  I got ahead of myself again.”
She pointed at the open cage door.  John, stark naked and sporting an erection, hesitated a second.  He then climbed inside.  Leonore closed the door with a clang.

Mandy interrupted, “Strong women, plural, you mean, don’t you!”
“Yes.  Strong women, Mandy….. I think he’s good for two women, at least.” She winked, sipped a bit more wine, and gazed at her new ‘acquisition’. “You should have seen how pathetic he was at the mixer, Mandy.  It was as if he had a sign over his head reading, ‘Available.  Take me!’  I couldn’t resist the impulse to grab him before some other smart woman did.”  Mandy looked at Leonore’s ‘Rover’.   She was smiling.
It suddenly occurred to John that there was a fourth person in the room: the totally silent husband.  It creeped him out to know that there was a male a few yards from him.   He suddenly felt a coldness sweep over his soul.  He glanced sideways, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed doing so. Fat chance!

“Eyes, front, Rover,” said Leonore.  Mandy had no intention of losing initiative.  “Yeah, Rover.   He’s mine.  Lock, stock and barrel.  And if you want to know what your future is gonna look like, yes, you’re going to end up like Fred.”  John felt the slightest bit of relief.  At least he knew the name of the stranger ‘next door’.  It made no sense that simply giving ‘the man in the cage’ a name would make any difference.  Then it hit him:  there were now *two* men in a cage.  He and Fred – with absolutely nothing in common – now had exactly one thing in common.  The thought provided little comfort.  Fred’s close proximity still made him anxious.

Leonore figured it out first.  “Mandy, do me a favor, OK?”  The blonde looked over with a puzzled look on her face.  “Cover the cage with the sheet – same as you do when Fred sleeps every night.  I think Rover is getting freaked out.”  Mandy (quiet for the first time) didn’t say a word; she simply got up, covered the cage, and returned to the sofa.  All this time Fred didn’t utter so much as a single word.

“I think it’s time, Mandy, that you told our new pet about you and your husband….” said Leonore.

“Why don’t you start?” said Mandy.  “If you get it wrong, I’ll jump in.”  John noticed that the ladies were now acting quite seriously.  He also noted that his once rigid member had deflated and that his brain was now working without the stimulus of lust…. Clearly….”
Leonore began: “Mandy has known Fred for a number of years, John.”  He noted she was now using his given name again, and not his ‘pet name’.  “He was her boss in an almost typical office.  Almost.  Their relationship – beyond the simple employee/employer one – began only when she got her promotion to executive assistant to Fred.  How she got that promotion is another story, but it was for the most part competence and in no way sex.”  John and Leonore both noticed when Mandy smiled at that.  “Well,” Leonore went on, “I mean no overt sex; Mandy did – I’m told – flirt a bit and show a bit more thigh and cleavage than might be ‘professional’… but all’s fair in love and war – and in getting a leg up over the competition…. “

“Anyway, Mandy got the job.   And then Fred’s fate was sealed….”

Leonore looked over at the draped cage and the now hidden man inside it.  “Do I have that right, Fred?”  For the first time in the evening, a male voice other than John’s boomed out, “Yes, Miss Leonore!”   Mandy again chuckled.  Leonore smiled.  John simply waited, wondering how Mandy and Fred went from a business relationship to this.
It promised to be an interesting story.  John relaxed.

Leonore left the room.  Mandy was silent.  The grandfather clock in the corner ticked, seemingly louder and louder.  Leonore returned with a plate in her hand.  It was piled high with what looked like leftovers.  Steaming.  Obviously heated in the microwave.  Leonore knelt over the cage.

She said, “While Mandy and I tell about her very successful hunting project, here’s your dinner.”  Leonore grinned.  She spat out one more word….


Mandy broke into laughter.  John could feel his face turning red.
                                                   To be continued….

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Limericks by Bebop

There once was a Lady named LaBioch
Who may not go to rock gigs and mosh
But she'll party just as hard
In the Dominion yard
And still leave you thinking she's posh!

There once was a sub they called Doc
Who wears a hat, much unlike Ppock
It keeps his neck strong
When keeping it on
Because it is made out of rock

There once was a Lady named Eva
When she speaks you'd better believe her
As first lady she's boss
So don't make her cross
Just be nice and she's happy to meet ya!

There once was a sub called Jarrod
Who came down from space in a pod
His human disguise
Has fooled many eyes
But there's a radio built into his rod

There once was a Lady named Fallen
Who often finds some subs appalling
Now I won't name any names
Or show picture frames
But she'd love to give some subs a mauling

There once was a sub called Bebop
Who thinks his rhyming skills are tip-top
But everyone runs
From his horrible puns
And everyone wishes he'd stop

John’s Long Journey Into Night by Doc Nolan

                                                John’s Long Journey into Night – Part One

John wouldn’t normally have gone to his high school reunion – but it had been a rough year.  It wasn't so much that Margaret had divorced him; it wasn't that he hadn't suspected she’d been running around. He had.  But the shock of discovering the guy was his boss was a gut-kicking experience.  When he was ‘let go’ for ‘productivity issues’ shortly afterwards John’s remaining self-esteem crumbled.  It took months of never leaving his house (she’d moved out, thank god) before he began to recover.  Maybe eating his own cooking was the reason he decided he couldn’t go on as a hermit.  When the invitation/announcement arrived, he simply said ‘fuck it, I’m going!

The reunion was only a five hour drive away, so he decided to just hop in his aging Toyota MR-2,  throw a small black duffel bag onto the empty right-front,  and hit the highway.  Living on savings and having the house paid off made it easy.  John was free.  John was also incredibly lonely.

The Friday night ‘let’s get reacquainted mixer’ didn’t help.  He recognized some folks who he’d hoped wouldn’t be there.  Then there were the overweight guys that he knew that he should know – but didn’t’.  A few of the women were hot – and all were accompanied by men who looked as if they could give Donald Trump a run for his cash – and his tasteless flash.  Noooo.

 John desperately looked around for anyone familiar.  The only face he was sure of was Leonore – but she had always been ‘out of his league’ -- as well as quite controversial.  She had dated college men as a high school sophomore, and got suspended twice as a senior for reasons never divulged.

He noticed she had shed her signature deerskin boots with the fringes on top as well as the low cut silk blouse and skin tight jeans.  She fit in with her newer,  more conventional look.  “What the hell,” he thought.  “I’m here; might as well say hello to someone.”  He approached.  He realized he probably should have been wearing something fancier than his loafers, navy jacket (with brass buttons), tan slacks, striped tie, and powder blue dress shirt.   “Too late now,” thought John.

“Hi Leonore!” She turned, looked at him with a puzzled look and then said, “Uh, John? Or is it Bill?” “John”, he replied. He knew he needed to say something ‘appropriate’ so he said, “Nice event, isn't?”  She looked him straight in the eye, and let a smile cross her face. “No it is not.  It sucks.  It’s a fucking bore!”  John didn’t know what the appropriate response to that was.  He didn’t say anything, searching his memory bank for something (anything!) to say.

She followed it up.  “I remember you.  The guy in Calculus 1.  You used to do Jane Morley’s homework for her.  She flunked the course anyway.  I guess you sucked as a math teacher.  Do you work as a math whiz or something now?”

“Uh, no… I used to be in marketing, but uhh… I’m between jobs now.”
She looked into his eyes.  “Got fired, huh?  Fucking the boss’s wife?”  John felt his blood rising and his face turning red.  “Actually Leonore, my boss was fucking my wife… and then the firm let me go.”

She laughed.  “What a coincidence!”  There was a pause. “Maybe she put in a good word for you there.”  John simply grimaced and faked a smile.  A dead silence seemed best.

She spoke first. “Let’s get the hell out of here, John.  This sucks. And frankly I’m curious about your wife … ex-wife I mean … and your boss.  Do you have any problem with that?”

John didn’t.  She dressed a lot more demurely than when she was in high school, but she seemed to have as much or more ‘attitude’ than ever.  Again she spoke first, “We’re taking my car, and we’re going to my apartment.  You and I John are going to have a party.  Understand?”

Actually he did not.  But he nodded.  What else could he do?  He thought of the Aimee Mann song, “The Moth”.  He was the moth; she was the flame. He might get burned but he was in the game.

John sat in the front, thinking the whole time, “What have I gotten myself into now?”  Leonore was one aggressive driver and several times John felt his foot instinctively slamming down on an absent brake pedal.   He wasn't in control now.

“Hey, John, did I tell you I have house-guests?”  He gulped as they pulled into the driveway of a very nice and expensive looking home.  In the dark he noticed the flickering gas lamps flanking the front doorway.  “Uh, no…”  Leonore turned to him as she parked the BMW in the driveway.  “John, you’re here because you’re interested in me, aren't you?”  “Yes!”  “Well I’m interested in you too, John – but probably not for the same reason as you’re interested in me.” He replied, “Maybe”.  She grinned.  “You just fucked up twice, John.

Let’s start with how you speak to me.  First rule:  I really, really like it when you say, “Yes, Miss” and not just ‘yes’. Do you understand?”

He replied: “Yes… I mean, yes, miss”.
She looked at him sharply, but only for an instant.  “Now for the second item. Ready?”

“I guess.  Uh, I guess so, Miss….I mean”.

She smiled.  “OK…. If you don’t like what I’m gonna tell you, it’s your problem – and yes I’ll drive you back to mix with the ‘bores’.  But somehow I don’t think you’re gonna say that, boy.”  She paused.  John noticed the word boy.  Damn, did she have that right!  He felt as if he were back in high school, screwing up answering simple questions in math --while the smart girls laughed at his incompetence.

Leonore went on.  “My friends are here for two weeks.   You know Mandy – well maybe not -- but you should remember her.  Anyway she’s here with her husband.  They only got married six months ago, and as well as I know Mandy, I thought it would be fun to have her come visit. Do you understand?”

John didn’t.  OK, he was going to meet a couple.  Why all the mystery?

Leonore continued, noting the puzzled look on John’s face.

“I, John, am not your normal cup of tea.  Neither is Mandy.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Good, you remembered to say ‘miss’!” said Leonore. She reached over and held his hand.  It was warm.  She had long fingers and an elegant floral pattern on each of her recently manicured fingernails.  (John wondered…. Should he be thinking of her as Miss Leonore?  Whatever.)  She did not remove her hand.

“Mandy got married to Phil because he is a special sort of man.  And Mandy and I have similar tastes in our men.  Here’s the bottom line, John.  When you come into my house, I am the one who makes the rules.  Also, you are to keep your mouth shut, no matter what, until and unless I – or Mandy – choose to speak to you.  And finally, you keep your eyes on me and me alone as long as you’re in my house.  Understood?”  John nodded.  “And accepted?”  John nodded again.

“When we walk into my living room I will sit on my sofa and I want you to sit on the floor in front of me.  Do you have any problem with that?”  John thought, ‘This is getting weirder and weirder!’  Then he looked at Leonore’s face.  He remembered her as she was in high school.  Then she’d seemed like an unattainable mixture of dream and nightmare.  Now – something had changed.  He finally hit on it.  She seemed comfortable in her own skin, as the saying went.  And somehow she seemed to be in quiet and self-confident control.  Calm and disciplined.  He realized that she had evolved from girl to woman.

He also realized he’d changed too.  The problem was that he’d changed from nerd to broken divorcee with a major loneliness issue.  Worse, he’d lost his compass and was desperate for some kind of new direction.  He suddenly realized why he’d accepted Leonore’s invitation:  She knew what he was good for – and he himself was clueless, adrift, and searching for something.  Perhaps meaning.

“Wake up, John,” said Leonore as she realized he was dreaming.  “Follow me.  And don’t you say one damn thing in there except “Good evening.”

Leonore led.  John followed.  She opened the door, walked into the marble-floored foyer, and shouted, “I’m home,” kicking off her shoes and tossing them into the corner.   She gestured for John to follow.  He did.  Leonore turned to watch his face as they rounded the corner into the living room.

John’s eyes grew large.  On the couch sat an insanely attractive blonde naked from the waist up.  She had a bowl of grapes on her lap; a glass of wine teetered on the arm of the sofa.  That wasn't the reason John froze.

In front of the woman – obviously Mandy – there were two very large metal dog cages.  And inside one was – a man.

Mandy turned to him and said, very simply, “Hello!”

He was almost but not quite tongue-tied.  A flicker of something came to mind as he mechanically remembered his bit-part line, “Good evening.” He turned to look at Leonore, his brain now totally shot.  Suddenly he blurted out the only thing in his consciousness.  “Miss Mandy!”

Leonore grinned and then simply said, “Good.  You remembered!  Now, John, go get me a glass of Merlot, too.  The bottle and glass are on the kitchen counter over there.”

“Yes, Miss,” he said – as firmly as he could.  Mandy giggled.  It didn’t matter.  John simply did as he was told.

                                                                                            [To be continued….]

My Confession by Margot

My confession.

Maybe I'll be wearing a maid's uniform tomorrow. A public outing of subservience, punctuated by a balletlike curtsy. Proudly showing the apron and headdress like a businesswoman wears her deux pièces and Louboutin's. Making me dependent on my Miss, an easy target of her every whim. And always with a smile, and a grace and style, as one could expect of Cinderella, minus the escape in the glass pumps.
Maybe the uniform gets locked on me, foregoing my freedom, forever in service, always there for the Miss.

Maybe is such an ugly word.

Silence Please by Lady Dalia

I can’t hear you.  I hurt.  I see your mouth moving but the words don’t make sense.

Do you ever really think of me?  Before you open your mouth, that is, or decide not to do something or simply forget because you can’t be bothered to remember.  Or is it you with me and how you’d like it to be that clouds your eyes.  How you’d like me to be.  That me you day dream of and hold on a very high, yet fragile pedestal.

I walk a careful line.  Friend and confidant, leader and teacher.  Sometimes I even fall.  I am not good at being the character you write for sitcoms where all problems are resolved in 24 TV minutes.  I have laundry and my dishes pile up some days.  I fear.  I laugh.  I want.  I need.  I could take what I needed but it is so much more when you give it yourself, of yourself.

You take like a needy child though I am not your mother.  And I hesitatingly admit, will nurture.  I invest too.  In us, but mainly you.  I hold a mirror to you and show you your strengths, I look ahead and show you the way.  I wait for you to stumble and tell you it’s ok.

Did you know I cared in every exasperated sigh, every angry moment,  every lonely tear?  The loneliness that comes from walking two steps ahead of you.  It should be a dance, this racing ahead, you and I, seeking to anticipate and give, ask and understand, share and feel.  The problem is I had the radio on and you were off doing other things.

Can I tell you a secret?  I cannot protect you from yourself.  I cannot open your heart.  I cannot expand your vision.  I cannot teach you right from wrong.  I cannot teach you how to be my friend.  I cannot make you feel what I feel and I am lost in this dysfunction.

I’m sorry.  I am sorry because when you fail, it feels like I fail us and when I fail us then I fail myself and it makes me so angry, I want to take everything and tear it to shreds and find oblivion.

It’s not ok and I am not going to pretend so.  I cannot accept your apology because you do not understand.  So do not apologize, just sit still and be silent. I can’t console you in this. I refuse to.

This is it.  Just this being apart.  If you grant me this, without pushing, grasping or demanding, I may, one day, be able to hear you again.

Three Haikus by Lady Raffi

Searching glasses to look for missing keys.
Yet child's toy sparkles through time mists.

The shoe pinches. A toe complains.
Lavender lotions. Pleasure me, my boy.

Smoothing her silver hair she holds her silver dildo.
Bend over, boy.

Dirty Word by Anonymous

 Dirty Word

Since when did "consent" become a dirty word? I need to know.

This is important, as those who should be able to lean on this important principle have been treated as doing something wrong when they invoke it.  Like they are uttering a dirty word, they are chastized and criticized.

I see consent as what separates informed decisions from abuse and violence.

I for one relish it.  The sweet satisfying gift of consent is one of the strongest turn-ons I have experienced in D/s.  Perhaps it is a fetish itself for me.

It would be too easy to bully, to cajole, to make someone feel guilty and even to emotionally blackmail them to consent.

You might think Im overstating consent.

I am a proud Domme, and there is no pleasure for me in dominating the weak or unpurposed.  Having a sub understand who I am, my exacting standards as well as the consequences for not pleasing me and still craves to bend to my will.  The sweet sound of begging on my ear combined with the knowledge that the boy not just wants, but needs me.

That is the definition of submission in my eyes, and it is what calls to me as Domme.

I'll Find You by Anonymous

There's an invisible thread.
Wrapped around your finger.
Leading to my heart.

I followed a shadow.
My heart said left.
My head went right.

I'll find you.
No looking back.
My vision is clear.

It's always been you.
With arms wide open.
I can't write poems.
But I'm sorry it took me so long.

Miss Nada by Micomascho

Miss Nada

At the secondary school. I was a careless student. I used to have a very sexy young teacher called Nada .she used to wear a business shirt, tight skirt which shows her curvy figure and a pair of shiny high heels.

I still remember how she used to walk and all the boys use to stare at her. I used to be in a school for boys only and all our teachers are females. I think this is the reason why I liked to be under the authority of females as this how I was brought up.

One day she asked me about the homework and did I solve it or not I answered her so carelessly that I didn't study her subject at all. She shouted and said “come here". I got no choice so I directed toward her as I am looking at her angry face and wondering what she can do to me .I thought she would send me to the detention room where I have to write the homework for 20 times. I was sent there so many times and I was get used to this. But I think Miss Nada had another plan at the moment I reach the chair she was sitting on simply just like a princess. She said firmly "get down". I lowered my head wondering what she will do and in the same time I thought I could take a peek at her breast. Suddenly she picked my hair and pulling me toward her. She slapped me few times on my face and when I tried to escape she pulled me firmer toward her. I tried to block her slaps by my hand but she screamed “your hands behind your back”. At this time I knew that I am in a trap and I have to take it. So I closed my eyes and wait until she finished my discipline. I felt that my face is on fire and moved silently to my desk. I can remember how the boys used to look at wondering why I take it with no complain. I guess they didn’t know that she brooked me inside. I think she is the reason of making me a sub.

One Enchanted Evening Part 1 by Anonymous

One Enchanted Evening   Part I

My fingers expertly inspected and transformed great to perfect as I touched, smoothed, tugged and arranged.  That the touches were agonizingly sensual and arousing for him, chaste now for almost a month, encouraged me even more to take my time.  I deserved perfection after all, in his obedience as well as his appearance.  My manicured nails, painted carefully and deliberately to match the deep red of my lips, ran down his cheek gently and he smiled.  My fingers moved to adjust his collar, then my palms slid over his shoulders and down the front of him.  I was very pleased at the smooth fabric of the jacket.  There was not a wrinkle to be seen.   I could feel the firmness of his body under the shirt, which was the result of the fitness program I had put in place for him.

Fingers moved to his belt, adjusting and lingering over his front, fingertips lightly dancing. As the look in his eyes began to shift. I laughed softly and took a step back to look.  They say that you cannot judge a book by its cover, and certainly no one would guess what a beautifully submissive whore he was underneath the polished and masculine exterior.  Delightful.   "Very good.  Im pleased."  I stated simply, watching him beam and respond.  "Thank you my Mistress.  Im so glad to please you."

"You may remain standing, my boy.  I don't want you wrinkling the pants."   I turned away from him and looking slightly over my shoulder added.  "Besides, I will give you the honor of helping me dress for the evening."   I didn't have to be facing him to know he was delighted.  It was clear in his voice.  "Thank you so much, Mistress.  I would be honored."

"Come here then, boy,"  I said, and waited until I felt him to step up behind me.  "You had better show me every ounce of appreciation you can for this, boy.  Or you will not be allowed to ever again."   I didn't need to look into his eyes to be clear that I was completely serious, my tone was enough.  I felt his fingers tentatively reach around to take my jacket lapel and gently slide the garment back and down my arms.  After sliding it off, I heard the rustle of fabric as he gently laid it on the bed.  I smiled to myself.  He stepped around to the front of me next, and with fingers that fumbled nervously, unbuttoned my shirt as I stood patiently.  I reached out and stroked his cheek to calm him, watching him take a deep calming breath, closing his eyes.

He opened his eyes and smiled brightly after a moment, and finished the buttons, sliding the shirt back and down.  My pale skin was revealed, and a striking red satin balconet bra.  I heard him swallow as his smile faded and he moaned softly.  He quickly moved around to my back, his face flushed.   His hands were very warm as i felt him unzip the skirt, and gently holding the sides of it, he slowly slid it down.  A very quiet intake of breath marked the appearance of the red satin thong underneath.  I raised a foot, then the other, and stepped out of it before he gently placed the skirt on the bed with the shirt.

"The stockings first, boy." I directed, and turned around as he moved to the bed to pick them up where I had him lay out my evening's attire.  He came back and squatted at my feet.   I put a hand on his shoulder, raising my foot, and he slid the stocking on gently.  "Make sure they are smoothed and neat, boy, the seam straight."

"Yes, Mistress, I will,"  he said softly and quickly pulled up the stocking, smoothing it gently up my leg.  I put my hand on his head as he moved up, smoothing as he went.  "Stop."  I commanded and heard a small swallow as his eyes lowered, his face just inches from the front of my panties.  "Kiss."  I stated, pulling his head forward and felt his lips press gently against the satin, noting the soft moan that followed.  "Thank you Mistress, " he breathed, looking up at me from his knees.

"Continue."  I commanded, and watched him pick up the task again, pulling the stocking up the rest of the way, smoothing it and checking the seam, adjusting it maticulously before leaning back.  I turned and looked in the mirror behind me, checking the seam and nodded in approval.  He beamed up at me.  "Now the other, boy,"  I directed and watched him scurry over and begin to put on the second one as I lifted my other foot.  I felt and watched his careful touch, purposeful, gentle.  I was pleased with his respectful sensuality.   Deferring his pleasure to complete the task at hand, learning to find pleasure in the serving itself was one of his trainings.   As a sensitive, sweet boy, this lesson had been easy.

After the second stocking, I nodded to him as he looked to me and rose to stand at the bed, picking up the black leather dress I would wear tonight.  Picking it up, he brought it over to me, and held it at floor level in front of me.  I stepped into the dress and allowed him to pull it up and around me, smoothly moving to my back to zip it up the back.  Once zipped up, it fit me like a glove and I smoothed my hands over it, taking a sigh of satisfaction.  I leaned back into him then, pulling his arms around me, and felt him rest his chin on my shoulder.  "Very good, boy,"  I gently praised.  "I am such a lucky boy, Mistress.  Thank you,"  he responded, his breath warm on my neck.

"Time to get my boots, boy.  Black ones, with the side buckles."  He moved from me, disengaging slowly, then stepped to the closet to get my boots.  He brought them out and I sat down on the chair, raising one foot.  As he began to put the boot on, I slid my other foot between his legs and massaged his aching cock through the fabric.  He shuddered and moaned, a small pausing to refocus on the other boot, he slid it on.  His body responded perfectly, immediately.  After the first boot was on, I moved my foot off him and held it up.  He exhaled a long breath and set to his task of putting on the other boot.  When he completed this, he sat back on his knees.

I stood, and enjoyed the perfect fit of the comfortable boots, I was now missing only one thing.  "Get my gloves, boy."  I stood and walked over to the dresser as he stood and walked over as well, opening a drawer and taking out my long black leather gloves.  "Hand them to me, and I will put them on."   He held them out to me and I took them from his hands.  "Take down your pants and kneel over the bed.... Now."

This elicited a look of concern, and I could tell he was afraid he had done something wrong.   He obediently did as I ordered, turning towards the bed and slid down his pants.  I put on my gloves slowly as I watched him.  The bright red lace panties he wore were so pretty against his skin as he leaned over the bed.  they covered his attractive ass well, and enticed me to do very bad things to him.  Smoothing my gloves over my fingers and up my arms one after another, I picked up the paddle and quickly brought it down hard and flat on his prettily pantied ass.

It made a dull smack, and the moan that followed was long and tortured and entirely enjoyable.  I brought the paddle down...once, twice, four times and more until I knew the color of his ass would match the panties he wore. The yelps and moans were very, very sumptuous.  I knew it would be stinging hard, and it would last until we got to the party where other delights would be in store.  "Up now, and pull up your pants, boy."   He winced and sucked his breath in sharply as he moved off the bed and stood, pulling up his pants, zipping, buckling.  Hi face was red, flushed, eyes moist. He was breathing quickly, from both the pain and the arousal that accompanied it.

"Put on your shoes, its time to go,"  I instructed, sliding a gloved hand over his crotch and squeezing lightly.  His eyes opened widely as he gasped.  I chuckled and let go, turning my back and exiting the room,  as I added, "And if we are late, there will be hell to pay."

 End of Part I

Tonight by Lady Aly

Tonight is the night.

I am looking into the mirror as I think this, brushing my red hair out after the shower I had just had.

It was Saturday and, just like every week, I am going to the club tonight where I will see him, but tonight will be different. Tonight I will allow him to notice me, will allow him to approach me and take me home. What he won't know, is that tonight will be the night I fulfill my fantasies.

With my decision I go to my closet, pulling out my outfit. I choose a black dress, but it wouldn't blend into the background. I knew this, as I had used this dress to reel in so many men into my bed and into my fantasies.

I let the towel drop from my body, my eyes looking into the mirror admiring my curves. A hand reaches up to my breast and I tweak a nipple, my lips curving into a smile.

I turned from the mirror, laying the dress on the bed and reaching down, opening a chest at the end of my bed. I open the chest, reaching in and pulling out a strap-on I had recently bought and I pulled it on. It was fairly small compared with the others in my collection, but I knew that the man I was hunting tonight would be a virgin, and I would have to be somewhat careful with him.

I let the lid of the chest close, turning from it to the bed and picking up a pair of black silk panties, while they weren't what some would call "Granny Panties" it wasn't a thong either. I places the cock just right to when I pulled on the form fitting dress, it wouldn't show, but if someone pressed against it just right, they would feel the full length of the cock.

The corners of my lips pull up into a smirk as I pick up the dress once again and pulls it on over my head before turning back to the mirror, smoothing out any wrinkles in the black fabric. Once I was satisfied with my dress, I picked up my tube of red lipstick, running it over my lips, making them a nice cherry red that contrasted nicely against my skin tone.

I continued with my make-up, using a Smokey effect on my eyes before lining them in black and then making my lashes long with mascara. Another smirk curved my lips and I turned from the mirror, sitting on the bed and pulling on a pair of pumps before heading from my room, purse in hand and walking to my car.


It had been nearly an hour and he still was not here yet. I was seated at the bar, drink in hand. I had numerous boys approach me tonight, but I turned each one away. They were not the one I was looking for.

I had just finished my second drink when he walked in, a smile on his face and a girl on each arm. The women were cute, in a childish way, but they were easy prey for him. He would have left them by the end of the night, like always. I knew I had to bid my time well, play hard to get until the end of the night, or he would not leave with me, but with another woman, and my fantasy would still not come true, but the need to have him in my bed and at my mercy was growing too strong for me to ignore for much longer.

So I watched, and I waited, like every time, until finally, the look on his face changed. He was growing bored, and that meant it was time to strike.

I stood from my seat at the bar in a fluid motion, standing tall, my back straight, my eyes locked on the man I had so many fantasies about. I had to make him think I was the prey, and that he was in control, or he would not come to me as I had planned.

As I moved onto the dance floor, moving toward him - and to the bathroom, which was my destination- I navigated through the sweaty and grinding bodies. Some touching me, trying to stop my path to the restrooms, but I ignored the reaching and touching hands on my body.

Soon enough, I was close to him, and he had spotted me at last. His gaze quickly became hungry, lust filling his eyes. His eyes wondered over my body, lingering on my breasts and over my ass and I caught his eyes as I passed, winking slightly before turning my face away from his and walking to the restrooms, and I sensed more than saw, him following me. Once to the bathrooms, I walked past, opening the door to an exit that was in the club, looking back to find him still following me and I smirked, moving my purse up on my arm, walking to my car, but before we could leave the alley, he had reached forward and turned me around, pushing me back against the brick wall.

"You know," He spoke, his voice deep, and husky with lust. "You should be careful when walking through an alley." His breath fanned over my face, reeking of alcohol, his hand running down my side, his fingers brushing against my breast.

"You never know who could be wondering them, or what they will do," His lips were close to my neck, and then his lips touched my skin, kissing my neck.

"I'm sure," I said, my head moving the the side to give him room, but also so I could reach into my purse without him noticing. "That I can handle myself."

 With that, I reached up, my hand going over his mouth and nose, twisting his arm behind his back. I wouldn't be able to hole him for long, I knew that, but I had to stay here long enough to get him to become unconscious. It didn't take long, and once he was laying against the wall, I pulled my car up, moving him with some difficulty into the car.

Once he woke up, I would simply say he had been too drunk to drive and hand passed out in my car.

I decided that I would not tie him up just yet, that could wait for later. I drove home, parking in front of my home and I sat back, sighing. So, I hadn't completely thought this out. There was no way I would be able to carry him up to my room, so I was stuck here in the car until he woke. It didn't take long.

"W-what happened?" He had woken with a start and was looking around frantically.

"You passed out," I said, looking at him. "Come up, and we can take care of you. You will have a bad hangover in the morning, if not now."

I opened the door, stepping out of my car and waiting for him to do the same.

"Where am I?" He asked once he was out of the car, but he leaned against it for support as he walked to where I stood.

"My home," I said, and turned from him, walking to the door and opening it. "Come in, I don't bite," I said, muttering under my breath "Much..."

I looked over my shoulder and watched as he shook his head before walking to me and into my home.

I hid the smirk that had worked its way onto my face and I walked up the steps to my room, opening the door, hearing him move behind me.

I heard him stop moving when he looked into my room, and I watched as he looked around the room. His eyes had widened as he took in the room, and the things in the room.

In a corner, there was a cross, in the other was a cage large enough for a man to fit in comfortably. On the bed, there was a range of toys I had left out on purpose. I smiled, a laugh escaping my lips as he took everything in and he jumped when I laughed.

My fantasies were coming true tonight.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Gone Again by Lady Aly

I look across the room and I see you standing there. You stand there, a cocky smirk on your face and I want to smack it off.

You look around the room, your eyes hungry as you look for your prey. This isn't the first time I had seen you here, isn't the first time I thought of these fantasies that run wild in my head.

The fantasies to bend you over my knee, to teach you a lesson in how to treat a woman right. To hear your pleas to have be stop, but you know you don't really want me to.

You love that you are over my knee, my hand landing on your ass again and again in front of the entire club. Soon you are no longer begging me to stop, but to continue, to keep spanking your ass.

"Harder! Harder!" You scream as I reach around you, pulling your pants down and off. You don't wear any underwear, and your perfectly sculpted ass, a light red tint to it.

Now I spank you harder and my hand hurts but it is worth it, to see your ass turn red. My palm is red too and it stings, but I ignore it. It would not stop where this was going.

With one last 'SLAP!' to his cherry red ass I stopped, rubbing against you softly. You have tears running down your face and you are begging me, begging for more.

But I don't spank him again, instead my finger moves down, between your cheeks, following the path of your crack to your hole and I rub slow against you.

You gasp and freeze, but as I continued to rub against your hole, you relax, then you are pushing back against my finger...

The fantasy ends there as someone bumps into me and I look across the room, but you are gone. You have found your prey and you are leaving and a sigh slips from my lips.

Gone again, but I will see you again soon.

How I met Mary O’Malley In Ballybunion By Doc Nolan

                            How I met Mary O’Malley In Ballybunion
I’d arrived in Dublin by American 2933 three days before and was pumping along hard into County Kerry on a nice (rented) bicycle.  I suspected it was a Chinese brand.  No identification.  The land once out of dirty, modern and ugly Dublin became increasingly beautiful – though I learned why Ireland is so eternally green.  Perpetual mist, rain and fog.

Every night I would pick a nice small town (big enough for an inn) and find the local pub.  It didn’t take time to find lodgings out in the vast green sea.  Tonight my target was Ballybunion, on the coast.   I was cold.  I was wet.  And I was hungry.  And my legs felt like noodles.   Ballybunion was a small town, but it was a tourist town.  I was running late.

Heading for a busy pub in the middle of town, I got off my bike unnoticed.  No such luck when I went inside and opened my mouth to order a brew.  “Ah, you’re American, are you!” said the bartender with a grin.  And soon I was surrounded.  (At least no one asked me if I knew his cousin Patrick who was a bartender in Boston!)   After downing a stout, I asked the bartender if he knew of a place where I could sleep the night.  John (which was his name) said, “This is na a good time to be lookin’ for lodging, my American friend.  Tis a busy place is Ballybunion in tourist season!’  At this I heard a snicker from the man sitting besides me. “He could try Mary O’Malley!’  The bartender grinned.  ‘Don’t think he’s up to Mary’s lodging, Jimmy.’  They both chuckled.  I grinned.  And – very curious – I asked ‘Could I meet this Mary O’Malley?’  The barkeeper smiled and looked off into a dark corner, cocking his head.  “She’s the one in the short skirt.  Shameless girl, but she does rent rooms.  You can try.”

I thanked him, strode across the room through the smoke, and introduced myself.  She looked me over as if I were a horse up for sale, stared into my eyes and said, “You’re an American.  Sit down.”  I did.  I was a bit surprised she didn’t say please, but since she was smiling, I didn’t feel uncomfortable.  I explained I need a room for the night.  She looked at me for a long minute.  “You’ll do,” she said.  “Follow me and I’ll show you the way.”  Pushing my bike I did so.  She was very quiet.  When we got to the door of a cottage, she simply said, “Ninety Irish pounds, prepaid!”  I was shocked.  “I can’t spend 90 pounds”, I stammered.  “How much can ye, then?”  I replied, “Could you make it 50?”  She looked me up and down like a piece of raw meat and again said, “You’ll do.”  And then she added, “You’re gonna have to work for that rate, my American lad.  Can you do as you’re told?”  I nodded.  I really didn’t want to look for lodging and end up with no place to stay at all.  Besides I must admit, she was a firmly built example of Irish maidenhood.  She noticed me staring at her bosom, though I found the word ‘breasts’ running over and over in my head.  Too many days on a bicycle.

Mary turned around and entered the cottage.  I followed.  And then she reached behind a door, pulled out a bucket and brush and said, ‘Fill this bucket with water and scrub this hallway.  It’s filthy.”  I mumbled, “Yes, ma’am!”  She scowled: “It’s Miss,  Bicycle Boy! “ I gulped and nodded.  “Well, get to workin’ .  I’ve got more in mind for you than just that!’  And she left the hallway.  A few minutes later I could her tele playing in the parlor.  Apparently I’d volunteered to be houseboy for the night for my ‘rate reduction’.  I  decided I’d better get working or I’d never get to sleep.

After the scrubbing she set me to dusting.  (It was obvious she did not like to dust!).  Then she sent me out to her woodshed to bring in some kindling.  (The cottage had never been modernized and looked like a relic of the year 1890.)  Then washing a sink full of dirty dishes and then… well, after three hours it was going on to 8 p.m. and it had been dark for two hours and she announced, “That’s enough”.

“Uh Miss O’Malley, I forgot to ask… Is a meal included?”  She stared at me.  “Five pounds”.  I pulled out my wallet and handed her the note.  She smiled up at me
“You like working?”  I decided nodding was a wise course.  “So when are you going to tell me your name?”  I realized I’d never told her.  “Sean”.  She burst out laughing.  “An American with an Irish name!, she chortled. “Well, Sean… You  have done a good bit o’work.  I’m not very hungry so you can have what I’ve left over.”  I looked at the plate.  Almost empty. “For five pounds?”  She smiled, “Yes, Sean.  For five pounds.”  I realized she was flirting with me!  I wasn’t helping matters by staring down at her breasts now.  She moved closer.

“Sean,” she said, “were you staring at my bosom just now?”  I paused.  Her smile disappeared.  Then she said, “Sean, actions have consequences, you know.”  And then – before I knew what had happened, she slapped my face.  Hard.  And then she backhanded me.  I stood stock still.  Astounded.  Now she looked down – at my crotch. And I fear my secret was out.  Meaning a large bulge.  She smiled, still standing far too close.  “You liked that didn’t you, my American friend?”  I nodded.  And she turned, said, “Follow me!” and I did.

We were in a bedroom.  Hers.  I was beginning to like Mary O’Malley. And then she said ‘Don’t get your hopes up.  I sleep in the bed.  You sleep on the floor”.  My eyes must have shown shock.  “For 50 Irish pounds?”  “Yes, for only 50 pounds you’re lucky to get the rug.”
And that’s where I slept.  She was nice enough to throw a second rug over me as it stormed that night – the rain beating on the roof.

I ended up spending a week at Mary O’Malley’s.  The second night I learned she liked edging.  The third night I learned she had a wooden cooking spoon that was sometimes applied to other purposes.  And by the end of the week I’d run out of excuses.  I asked her if I could stay longer.  She grinned and said, “Only if you marry me.  I’m a virgin you know!  Besides I’d love to visit America.
And yes, that’s how I met my wife.  I still sleep on a rug at the foot of the bed. (She is a light sleeper).  But she finds me useful.  So she keeps me around.

A Thorough Exam by Lady Lira

A Thorough Exam
by Lira Savira

Kevin lay on the rigid examination table wearing a starchy hospital gown. He shivered and tried to pull the gown around him to protect his skin from the cold in the room. His efforts were wasted since the garment seemed to be too small. This was only his first examination in this experiment, and he didn't know exactly what to expect. His friends at college said it was an easy way to make some money - donating yourself to science. They never seemed to be bothered by any of the things they had to do. Still, he started to become anxious as he heard the door click open, sounding louder than it really was in the silent room.

The woman who entered was fiercely beautiful and looked more like a pin up beauty than a doctor. She was wearing a doctor's uniform, but in black instead of the usual white. He thought this was strange to see a black lab coat. She had the usual stethoscope draped over the back of her neck, but instead of the usual soft shoes of a doctor she had on strange heels with silver studs. The clacking sound they made on the hard floor as she crossed the room made his heart race.

She smiled in a manner that seemed intended to be reassuring, but had the subtle edges of a smirk. "Good afternoon, Mr. O'Donnell. I'm Dr. Cameron, and I'll be handling the procedures for your examination today." Her eyes moved slowly up and down his body, openly assessing his physique. "I'll need you to sit up for a moment so I can take your vitals first." There was the insinuation in her tone that should not tolerate any resistance or hesitance. He sat up immediately..too quickly...his small gown fell away exposing most of his genitals. He quickly covered them.

She raised one eyebrow at this display, and smiled again in that near smirk. She roughly grabbed at the gown to pull it away again saying light, "I wouldn't even bother, my dear, it's part of the vitals I need to check. Sit erect on the table with your back straight and your knees spread." She crossed the room to the sink as he more hesitantly spread his legs, feeling very exposed and uncertain. He wondered if this was how it was supposed to happen.

Dr. Cameron slowly ran the soap over her hands twisting her head around to look back at the boy on the table, watching his every move. He began to sweat under her scrutiny, beads of perspiration rising even with the chill in the room. She dried her hands on a paper towel and pulled a plastic glove out of a box next to the sink. Slipping her fingers into it, she let it snap back to her wrist, puffs of powder floating in the air.

Without hesitation, she stalked back over to the table, and pressed her gloved hand between his legs, grasping his balls tightly and probed the taint beneath with her middle finger. He gasped at the pain and his eyes grew wide with fear and shock. "What are you doing?!" He exclaimed in a fierce whisper. He made no move to stop her as he still felt she was the authority as she was the doctor and this was her office. She snapped back at him "Quiet down now! I'm just checking for lumps. What you've never been examined before?" She made a loud "tsk" sound and taking his hips, pulled him toward her off the end of the table.

His hospital gown fell away further and she abruptly reached up to pull the string at the nape of his neck, letting the garment fall to the floor. "This is pointless and just getting in the way! We haven't got all day." She remarked. He tried to grasp it as it fell to the floor but he was too surprised to react properly. Before he could recover, she swiftly put one hand on each of his hips and turned him so he was facing away from her and leaning on the hospital table. "Hereee we gooo!" She said in a sing song voice that for some strange reason he found comforting tough the situation was far from comfortable for him.

Kevin wanted to ask what was going to happen next, but her manner made him afraid to speak. He felt her hand rubbing over the skin of his ass lightly, and simply knew this was not the way it was supposed to be. She spread his cheeks gently with her gloved hand, and did not bother with lubricant before pressing her two forefingers firmly into his ass. He gasped and moaned loudly, involuntarily spreading his legs further and leaning over the table. "No...unghh..." He moaned quietly.

Dr. Cameron pressed on slowly pushing back and forth rhythmically, and then pressing forward to massage the round bulb of his prostate gland. He tried to will it away as he gripped the edges of the bed as she continued, but he could not stop his cock from growing rock hard as the sensation moved through him. She reached around, her left hand gloveless, and tightly gripped his balls to the point of pain as her right continued to massage his prostate gland.

She could feel his body heat rising, and enjoyed the sense of his was almost a palpable thing. She could feel him getting close to climax as she continued to apply pressure. From experience, she could easily measure his soft moans of distress and pleasure to determine his breaking point. Right before he was about to climax, she suddenly withdrew her fingers and let go of him, turning away to go back to the sink. She removed the glove and tossed it into the disposal. She washed her hands again, still looking at his back as he breathed heavily and did not move from the table.

After drying her hands, she picked up a chart from the counter and began making a few notes. "Alright, Mr. O'Donnell, we're done with stage one. We'll begin stage two next week. You may get dressed now and go home." Kevin turned around slowly towards her, his head low, afraid to meet her eyes. "Thank you, Dr. Cameron." he said barely above a whisper as he stood there naked and began to move slowly to the spot where he had left his clothes. She glanced over at the pile. She gave him a breezy smile as she twisted the door handle to leave and said, "Next time..Kevin...make sure to fold your clothes neatly before I come in here."

As Kevin dressed, his mind reeled even as his heart rate was returning to normal. His face was flushed and red, and his loins ached terribly. He felt violated and exposed, out of his depth with this experiment. And he couldn't understand why he was already looking forward to the next session.  - To Be Continued...

Kraven's Confession

It was Saturday evening, time to go out. The lads had planned this night for a while. We head down to the club, grab a few drinks and I take my place at the bar as I usually do. A glance across the room lets me know if I’m in for some action tonight. My gaze stops on this beautiful lady, short silk dress with no back, high heels, blood red lips. Ladies and gentlemen we have a winner. I ask her to dance, she says yes.

The night progresses, we go back to her place and I spend the night, if you catch my meaning. In the morning I wake up to realize I'm blind, as the moment of shock passes it becomes clear that I am blindfolded. I start realizing other things as well, my ankles are bound and my wrists are tied to the bed. I start yanking on the ropes and just as I am about to scream for help I feel a finger touch my lips and hear a whisper in my ear‚ ‘‘don’t make a sound, don’t move or you’ll be punished‘‘.

I notice the voice of the lady from the previous night and fear and anxiety are replaced by relief and excitement. She drags a feather down my chest, my abs and my crotch, which following last night’s events is exposed. I writhe in the comfort at the touch of the feather, so I am slightly disappointed when the sensation stops, but I expect it to resume at any moment. Instead a whip lashes across my chest, the suddenness and pain make me cry out.

Remembering the ladies orders I try to regain my composure just as I receive another lash. When I don’t make a sound the lady says ‚‘‘you’re learning fast, good‘‘. She starts stroking my chest and thighs, caressing my nipples, scraping her nails across my skin, suddenly a second pair of hands grab my cock and start rubbing it, in the moment of confusion a moan escapes my mouth, instantly another lash whips across my chest. My mind racing the two pairs of hands continue stroking my abs and thighs and rubbing my cock.

Then a pair of lips wraps around my cock and a tongue start’s licking up and down my chest, the pleasure is overwhelming, I fight the urge to moan, since I don’t want to get lashed again. I wonder who the second pair of hands and lips belong to, but it is hard to keep my mind on something else but this moment. After what feels like an eternity of pleasure my cock leaves the warm and cosy mouth and I hear a silent, ‘’He’s ready’’. I feel the weight of a body sit on my stomach; the lady places my cock inside her and starts riding me.

At this moment I can no longer contain myself, I know that moaning and sighing will bring on the lashes of the whip, but I no longer care, quite the opposite actually, I welcome it. I start moaning and the whip lashes across my chest, again and again. I am certain the lady has drawn blood by now but I can’t stop myself, an animalistic instinct has clouded my mind, the only thought that I have is ‘’I could stay like this forever’’.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Spontaneous Confessions 3/9/13

Just wish to let all the people in the USA that tonight is change your clock  ahead day, who live in day light saving time zones,



I totally understand the hard job that nurses have to do. I understand they run from one side of a hospital to another, I understand that they make your stay pleasurable, I really do.

But those nurses that take blood. I don't understand them. They always ask "which arm, left or right?" and I always answer the same damn thing "you need to take blood from the top of my hand, you won't get it from my arm and I'll just end up with bruises." Then they smile and will say, "well, let's just see what we can find ok?" But I don't think it's okay. I don't think it's okay at all. I have said 'please no' and they don't listen. Every fucking time.

So she pokes around my arm. Tells me to relax. It is really fucking hard to relax when you cannot breathe. Here's something you need to understand. Imagine having to breath through a straw, the amount of air that goes into your body, is the amount of air that gets into my body, in a healthy state, no asthma, but for a healthy person, that amount of air would not be nearly enough, it would make you pass out faster than you can snap your fingers and say "fuck this straw".

Anyway, keeping the straw story in mind, it is really hard to 'relax'. It is hard to focus on anything but trying not to pass out from the lack of air. But you try as they poke around your arm. Left first. Then right. Left again. Right again. It doesn't work. So she says she'll use the main artery. There's blood. A little too much. Which helps relaxing, you know? And then, she needs more, and then, only then, she uses the top of the hand. And voila, there's blood.

And now, 6 hours later, I have bruises left and right. And it hurts. And I am irritated.

 But most of all I am irritated, that you bothered to tell him, but couldn't be arsed telling us. For that I say, very unsub-like, fuck you.


Yesterday, for the first time ever, I sent someone a partial nude photo where I flashed my pussy.  I was surprised how fun and sexy it was to do.


I have a crush on a beautiful flower,
I have a crush on a brillant personnality,
I wish i could give you her name,
But i don't want to spoil my chance,
Gazing at this shining  grey moon


I seem to have an issue with attachment, so far any of the relationships have been ruined once I've had sex with my partner. I loose interest way too quickly. I have attributed it to the fact that I haven't met ''the One'' yet so I guess I'll keep on searching for now :).


When I feel this way nobody is safe, I get into all sorts of trouble and should be locked away for my own protection ...... but then where would be the fun in that.


Dear Confessions Box,

A rant for you about a type of unowned sub.  (yes, I know not all)

Why is it boys think that you want someone in your IM before you rez?  Every log on.

That in answering questions, they espouse on everything but what you asked?  When did it happen that every thought is something they should share?  That somehow, all you are online for is their entertainment and companionship?

What happened to silence?  Or if they must say something, trying "How was your day Ma'am? May I interrupt you?  Are you free?"

What happened to please thank you, Miss and Ma'am?

Stop it.  Now.  Be pleasing, learn how.


I don't think you could call it a crush, or even a tryst.
But we are sharing a love, and we have acknowledged it.
I don't think it can be labeled, but it is special, and I cherish it.
Ive not felt this way before, and its strange.
Its casual in a way, but not something insignificant at all.
Ive always been all or nothing, and this has been so satisfying and yet so different.  Its fun and I know I am to him what no one has been before, or likely will be, simply because of the time and place and circumstance of our getting to know each other.
We are sharing something special and unique, and Im working on just enjoying it.


The Lady
she is one of a kind, the woman of my desire.
She is the one that puts me in-line.
She knows me inside out, and she is the focus of my attention.
I trust her and put my faith in her.
She is caring, and builds and strengthen me.
I exist for her, and her desire,
my faith and destiny.


i have more of a crush on my male sub's girl than on him...


I was  in trouble, and lost. I thought i had find the right one, but i was the only one, and we need to be two.

I'm in trouble, and tossed.  Now we are three and none of them both know it...

Can i have two ?


There once was a Texan named Doc,
Who went 'round the D in a box,
He once wore a hat,
Trials put an end to that!
But he still likes to talk and to talk.


When the Dominion the Musical idea came up, my first thought was to take Mouse to a dark empty theater and chain one of his legs to the stage floor with a long chain and cuff. The other hand would be chained to a microphone. I want to watch and listen to him sing in voice as he performs Broadway musicals while I throw popcorn at him to see if I can break his concentration. I suppose I have a little bit of a crush. 


Love is the word that My boy embodies.
Devotion, caring, loyalty and so much more
I tell him all the time how much he means to me, but I cannot really express all of what he means to me.
My sun that rises and My moon that shines on me and watches over me as I sleep.
The rhythms of our days are shared and I would not have it any other way.


Not that you are here.... but...I would not take you even if you came with a thick slab of peppered bacon that lived and rolled in organic mud made with nectar.



#1 : A well educated sub can provide manucure, pedicure, massage and other relaxing stuff. You don’t have to book a rendez-vous

# 2 : When it’s november, 11 pm, and when the weather is rainy and foggy, the sub takes the dog out for a walk. Sometimes it’s the opposite : the dogs takes the sub out.

# 3 : A sub gives you 100 good reasons for not going to bed cause he wants to spend some more time with you. If you’re tired in the morning, and late at work, it’s his own fault. The best in such a case is to punish him.

#4 : Owning a sub allows you to cut corners with heating in winter. He will warm you in his arms. They are not always very big, but the most important is that he has two.

#5 : A sub will go and find some ciggies on July 4th at midnight when everything is closed and you’re craving for a drag

Untitled by Lady Eshi

call you over and you lock your eyes with mine instinctively.
It doesn't make me feel uncomfortable, the blindfold can remain in the toy-box.

You look at me I notice again how I AM intoxicated by the vastness of your being that transcends all boundaries of all things I've ever known. Your stars sparkle and shine just for Me, after all.

I am willing to lift off and take a flight. Can you contain Me?

I stand close enough to you to feel your warm aural body waiting to be brushed  upon - just to set that little spark on it's path up your spine. You stand there, quiet...motionless...feeling the air you exhale glide over the Cupid's bow of your lips.

You say "Mistress" quietly in your head... as your face transforms into a subtle theater of surrender into My mercy. I hear your thought and tenderly whisper  -


One Foot In Front Of The Other Part 3 by Anonymous

As the previous part ended, the Lady and her boy had left the party upstairs to have a party of their own in the host's secret room downstairs.)

One Foot in Front of the Other Part III

I stood in front of him, appraising, noting, enjoying.  Naked and kneeling on the floor of the secret room, his eyes were lowered to the floor.  He was almost serene, his quietness, the gentle sloping of his shoulders, his relaxed arms tucked behind him.  He was a vision of acceptance, anticipation and obedient gratitude.

I examined him closely, drinking in the details as well as the over all presentation.  His skin was light, but he had a slight tan since he had found that I enjoyed a bit of color,  and he had begun to cut his hair a bit closer, something that I had mentioned once, and he had made sure to do ever since. I let my nails run through his hair and I felt him shiver in response.  My fingertips ran down his neck very slowly, feeling the pulse in his neck and enjoying the feeling of his life under my touch.  A soft release of breath acknowledged his own excitement at my provocative caress.

I took a step back, and reaching back, I unzipped my gown slowly, watching the increase in the rise and fall of his chest at the sound. Watching the subtle changes in my boy was as exciting and arousing as any other foreplay to me, and lucky him, I liked to take my time.  When the zipper was done, I gently slid the dress down and stopped from it.  I carefully laid it flat on the table and turned back to my fucktoy, so obediently staring downward when I knew he would have given absolutely anything to see what I was dressed in, if anything, under the dress.

I laughed softly and took two steps toward him, happy to show him.  My heels were muted on the carpet, but still sharply sounded in the room, the din of the crowd above left far behind.  My stilettos stopped just in front of his knees.  I enjoyed for a moment,  the thought of the prim and proper upper crust above us, with no idea of what was unfolding just below them before tipping his chin up to look at me.

I stood before him, my pale skin in sharp contrast to the ruby red lacy lingerie that barely covered my breasts, torso and pelvis.  His eyes went wide looking at me, trying to look everywhere at once hindered by the dim light.  At last, his eyes traveled down and got wide as he found himself staring about eye level to my strap on.  I chuckled at his surprise.  He glanced upward, looking a bit startled, but there was yearning as well.  Placing my hand behind his head, I pulled him forward, his lips meeting the tip of the dildo.

Im sure his mind flashed to the first time his mouth hole had been filled in preparation for this.  I remembered when I had filled his mouth by sliding the reverse dildo gag into his mouth and throat, watching him swallow over and over with nervous anticipation.  His eyes teared up and the first few times I broke his mouth in, I slid it in deeply and he gagged.  I had to take it out so he didn't panic and gave him a moment to regain his composure before sliding it in again. My patience paid off, and over time I increased the length he was made to wear it, and finally he was able to wear it through out my enjoyment of one of his very delicious dinners.

On his knees in front of me, my strap on was at his lips. I felt my desire stir in anticipation.   "Worship it, boy."  I ordered simply, and watched his face turn very red as he kissed the tip and begun to plant sweet, soft kisses up and down the shaft.  "I've been looking forward to using your mouth and throat, slut."  Just one more part of his boy that would yield to me.  "I won't be satisfied until every part of your body is claimed and trained to be enjoyable."

"Suck it now, boy.  Show me what a good little cock sucking whore you are going to be for me."  I pulled his head forward and slid it into his mouth slowly, then stopped, feeling his lips open and willingly receive it, then close around the shaft as he began to suck.  I nudged his swollen and leaking cock in its cage and he moaned around the dildo as he made a small stain on the carpet at my feet.  "If you have any doubt you were made to suck cock, boy, your body says otherwise."  I laughed again, nudging the chastity device, and heard a strangled moan from his throat.

"Suck harder, bitch,"  I ordered, and felt his mouth and lips pulling, the sounds of his suckling wet and urgent.  I kept my hand on his head, stroking his hair as I enjoyed watching and listening to him service my strap-on.  I waited until I could see a bit of saliva slip from his lips to his chin. before moving back so the dildo slid out with a pop.  "Hungry?"  I asked, smiling down at him, seeing his nervousness clear as he nodded yes.  I smacked his face hard once.  "Never nod at me, boy.  Speak."  

"Forgive me, MIstress.  Yes, I'm hungry to please you and to swallow it all for you.  Please let me."  The last bit was almost a strangled whisper.  I liked what he said.  More importantly, I believed him.  I put the dildo to his lips again, holding it, and slid it smoothly and deeply inside of him.  I put my hands behind his head and slid it all the way in, listening and feeling his throat swallowing against it.

"Look up at me, slut." I growled, holding my cock deep inside him. I watched his eyes meet mine as I held his head firmly and moved my hips slowly back and forth, sliding the dildo almost out , then in.  I watched the tears gather and spill from his beautiful eyes, enjoying the sight as I continued.  The wet sucking noise of the dildo over and over again penetrating him so perfectly aroused me, not to mention the thought of his well trapped and throbbing cock in its cage.

The slow stream of drool dripped over his wet lips and down his chin as I moved in and out, deep and slow.  Tightening my fingers in his hair, I moved a bit faster, my hips rocking forward and back, and he whimpered softly, swallowing as he tried to take the dildo deeply, over and over.

"That's a good little cocksucker, "  I commented, my hips moving a bit faster yet again.  I plunged into his throat now, feeling my strap on brush the back of his throat, hearing him struggle and gag lightly.   His body began jerking a bit with the thrusts and he trembled with need as I completely filled him over and over.

Only when I had my fill did I pull out of him and let go of his head suddenly, stepping back.  I watched and listened to him panting and gagging as he leaned forward, continuing to gasp. I gave him a moment, then picked up the towel I had set nearby and tossed it to him.  "Clean up and compose yourself, boy."  I instructed, watching him do just that, wiping his face and neck, then finally his leaking cock with a hard shudder.

I readjusted my strap-on and picked up the dress, stepping into it gently and pulling it up over my shoulders.  I snapped my fingers, and turned my back to him, my back exposed due to the undone zipper.   I heard him rise quickly and with fingers slightly shaking, slowly zipped my dress.  I turned and smoothed the fabric over my curves and looked him up and down.  "You have permission to dress now, boy.  And get to it, we have a party to attend."  I said, feeling energized.  "Freshen up at the sink and meet me up top,"  I instructed and turned to walk to the stairs.  Taking the stairs up, I reached the door and unlocked it, standing just outside and enjoying the music and the low din of the sum of conversations.

I didn't have to wait long for my boy to emerge from the door, a glow about him.  I smiled and took his hand in mine,  and we walked into the bustling crowd of guests, feeling refreshed and ready to enjoy the party again.

The End.
Next:  One Enchanted Evening