Saturday, May 25, 2013

Alice by 2NN

Chapter 1

Pete thought he was a very lucky guy. In his early twenties he was quite rich,
having inherited a fortune from his late parents. Because of his relative wealth
he didn't have to work, opting instead to spend his time on pursuits he found
worthwhile. Things like lying around by the pool and taking long vacations. He
didn't really have any close friends, but that didn't matter now that he had met
the woman of his dreams. Angela was absolutely beautiful: long blonde hair, blue
eyes and a killer body: the body of an athlete. With her 5'10" she was taller
than Pete. In fact Pete didn't quite understand what she saw in him. He was no
more than 5'5" and weighed a measly 115 pounds. The fact that he was so small
had always made it hard for him to find girlfriends, but with Angela everything
had been like a dream. They had clicked immediately and after dating for about
eight months they had married. Pete thought that life looked good.

The honeymoon had been fantastic. Angela and Pete had vacationed in a very
exclusive resort in the Caribbean and Angela had certainly made sure that they
celebrated their wedding properly. She had made a point of having sex at least
four times a day. And not just any old, tired routine sex. She had proven to be
very demanding and very proficient in bed. She almost always rode on top and she
always made sure that the orgasms were nothing short of amazing. When she didn't
ride Pete long and hard, she gave him blowjobs that made him scream with
pleasure. After three days he had become hopelessly addicted to her, unable to
keep his hands off her. On the plane ride home he had been so horny that it had
been necessary for her to give him a hand job while the others were sleeping.

When they returned to their very large mansion the amazing sex continued. Angela
made sure that Pete had at least four mind-blowing orgasms a day. It became a
routine where Pete became more and more addicted to Angela's touch. She in turn
took over the household completely, among other things hiring new help to
replace the old. She also had some modifications made to the basement. When Pete
inquired what they were, she told him that she was making a special playroom and
that she would reveal it to him on his birthday. Pete's birthday was just around
the corner so he would see it soon enough and when she took his throbbing member
in her hand he promptly forgot all about it.

On the morning of his twenty-third birthday Angela woke him up by gently licking
his dick. Pete awoke as his member began to throb with need and he prepared
himself for yet another fantastic orgasm. But this time it didn't come. Angela
held him on the edge forever and when he opened his eyes and looked down to see
what the hang-up was, she smiled mischievously back at him: "Happy birthday
darling," she said. "I have a very special surprise for you, but you will have
to be patient." She held up a piece of black cloth and explained that she wanted
him to wear a blindfold so that the present would remain a surprise until the
last moment. He didn't hesitate for long; he was much too horny for that. A few
minutes later she led him blindfolded through the house. He was naked and she
led him by his erect member down the stairs and into the basement. While still
stroking his throbbing cock she said: "Hold out your hands. There is just one
more little thing we need to do before I remove your blindfold." Without
thinking he held out his hands and felt a pair of handcuffs close around his
right wrist first before closing around his left. He was just about to object
when Angela increased her stroking and brought him to a massive orgasm, which
made his knees buckle beneath him, almost causing him to fall. When he had
sprayed his load Angela still held his cock and asked: "Ready darling?" He had
barely replied before she removed his blindfold. After blinking at the light a
few times he saw the changes she had made to the basement. They were massive.
She had transformed the whole basement into a very large dungeon, equipped with
racks, cages, chains and whole lot of other stuff Pete didn't recognize. He was
just about to ask what this was all about when Angela said, in a very menacing
tone: "Welcome to your new home, you useless piece of shit!" With that she
slammed her knee into his groin, making him double over in pain and fall to his
knees. As he lay there trying to catch his breath he heard the sound of motor.
He soon found out that the sound came from a motor winch, pulling a chain
connected to his handcuffs. Soon his hands were raised above his head and he was
forced to stand up. The winch continued pulling until he was pulled off his
feet, his toes dangling a couple of inches above the ground. The pain in his
wrists was bad and his crotch was sore and he didn't understand what was
happening as Angela stood in front of him. He opened his mouth to ask her but
his questions were cut short as she once again drove her knee into his groin.
His crotch exploded with pain as she shouted into his face: "Silence! You
useless worm, you are not allowed to speak unless I expressly order you to!"
Pete tried to croak yet another question but was once again stopped as Angela
grabbed his balls and squeezed them viciously. His vision blackened and he heard
her shout more abuse at him.

While he recovered somewhat Angela forced his mouth open and jammed a very
large, black ball-gag into it. In too much pain to try and shout, the only sound
he managed was a weak gurgling. Angela laughed at his weakness before talking to
him: "Worthless shit!" she spat at him. "I've wanted to do this for so long. Now
its finally time. As you are no doubt too stupid to have guessed what it
happening, I'll tell you. Just this once I'll tell you what's going on. The rest
of the time you will be treated according to your position: that of a slave."
Pete couldn't believe his own ears and Angela saw this and smiled: "Yes, you
heard me correctly slave. I married you with this one objective in mind: turning
you into my slave and stealing your fortune." Pete started to thrash and scream
into his gag, trying to object to Angela's plan, but he ceased his struggling
when she grabbed his balls very firmly and gave him a warning look: "Good slave.
You can be taught." Pete's face burned with shame at how easily he was
controlled. Angela saw this and laughed as she continued: "As I said, this is
the first step in my plan to steal your money. I promise that a month from now
you will have signed over all your money to me and in three months our divorce
will go through. After that you will disappear from public view." When Angela
saw Pete's alarm at this statement and chuckled: "Oh, don't worry little slave.
I won't kill you, though you might wish that I had. No, I'm going to turn you
into a feminized little shemale slave. In six months you will be sporting an
impressive pair of tits and I promise you that will be willing to do anything,
and I do mean absolutely anything, for your mistress or master. I am going to
make sure that you are turned into the most docile and obedient little slave
bitch in the world, don't you worry about that." To make her point Angela
finished the sentence by squeezing Pete's balls viciously. He thrashed as he
tried to get out of her grip, but she held on until he hung limp in defeat. Then
she continued: "Before we begin in earnest I will tell you few simple rules.
There is a whole set of them and I promise that you will know all of them by
heart, but for know these two will do. First of all: don't think for yourself,
just obey the orders that are given to you, no matter who gives them. Remember
that you are the lowest slave-shit in the world. Everyone has more right to
decide over you, than you have yourself. Secondly: never speak unless ordered
to. A slaves voice is only tolerable when the slave is screaming in pain. Now
let's get to work." It turned out the winch and the chain he hung from, ran on a
rail in the ceiling and now Angela dragged Pete by his balls along the rail to a
corner of the dungeon. "Wait here," she said and left him dangling from his
wrists. As she walked away Pete tried to comprehend what was happening. He
couldn't believe that his loving wife had turned out to be a completely vicious
bitch, a gold digger only after his fortune.

When he had hung there for quite a while, his hands and wrists almost numb,
Angela returned. Only now she didn't look anything like the sweet girl he had
married. On her feet were knee-high, red leather boots with six-inch stilettos.
She wore what looked like a very revealing bathing suit made of red rubber, open
at the crotch, displaying her blond bush. On her hands and arms were red,
rubber opera gloves and in her right hand she held a riding crop. She looked
very sexy and very menacing, very much in control. To demonstrate her power she
stood close to Pete, watching him try to shy away. Laughing at his weakness she
grabbed his balls and squeezed them firmly and said: "Let's get you started on
your new life." She knelt down and grabbed left ankle. When Pete saw that she
meant to chain it so that he would hang spread-eagle, he began to struggle,
kicking to get free. This was a bad mistake. Angela became absolutely furious:
"How dare you struggle, you useless piece of shit! How dare you kick at your
Mistress? Mistress will have to teach you a lesson." She crossed the room to a
wall full of implements for punishing slaves. Here she substituted her riding
crop with a long, flat and wide leather strap. Without another word she came
back to Pete and began to whip his mercilessly. Pete thrashed and screamed into
his gag and tried to turn away from the blows, but it was no good. No matter how
he twisted and turned the strap found his sensitive spots and Mistress Angela
continued whipping him. She really leaned into the blows and continued the
beating until Pete's entire body was covered in angry red welts and Pete's
struggles had stopped. Mistress Angela stood in front of him, removed his gag
and asked him: "Are you going to behave now, slave?" Pete managed to croak:
"Yes," but this only caused Mistress Angela to drive her knee into his groin one
more time. All Pete could manage was a thin scream of pain as Mistress Angela
shouted: "Wrong answer, slave. I'm going to ask you again: Are you going to
behave now slave?" Again Pete replied yes, and again Mistress Angela kicked him
in the groin. This went on until he finally understood what was expected of him
and replied: "Yes, Mistress." Mistress Angela smiled derisively at him and knelt
down and chained his ankles far apart so that he now hung spread-eagle. Pete
cried at his helplessness, but Mistress Angela really didn't what to hear his
whining so she gagged him again.

Having secured Pete spread-eagle she went around behind him and applied some
kind of lubricant to his asshole. When Pete realized what this meant, he began
to cry harder. It didn't help as Mistress Angela took a long, thin rubber hose
with what looked like a balloon near the end. She leaned in over his shoulder
and mocked him: "There, there baby. I'm only going to clean your filthy inside.
Five enemas should be enough for now." Pete's whining increased and Mistress
Angela sneered a warning: "Don't you dare resist me, slave." Pete didn't want to
bring another beating on himself, so he willed himself to relax as Mistress
Angela shoved the rubber hose up his ass. It was both painful and uncomfortable
and it certainly didn't get any better as she pumped up the balloon at the end
of the hose, preventing him from expelling it. Then she began pumping his
insides full of hot water. Soon Pete felt like he was going to burst and looking
down his body he could see his belly distending. He screamed into his gag and
just when he was sure that his stomach would burst open, Mistress Angela stopped
pumping water into him. Instead she came around to his front with a big smile on
his face and began to caress his distended belly: "Feels good, doesn't it,
slave?" When Pete shook his head, her tone changed, becoming more threatening:
"A slut like you loves this, am I right, slave?" Pete cried as he saw his
options diminish and he nodded his head in defeat. "Good," Mistress Angela said,
"'cause it will be a daily thing for you from now on." This only made Pete cry
harder. After letting him hang there for a couple of minutes, she deflated the
balloon and allowed his to expel the water from his stomach. As a huge spray of
shitty water exploded from his ass, Pete drew a sigh of relief. It was beyond a
shadow of a doubt the best shit he had ever taken. But the good feeling were not
to last. Mistress Angela promptly administered another enema just as painful and
uncomfortable, followed by another. Followed by another. Followed by another.
After the fifth Pete hung limply in his bonds, completely exhausted. But his
ordeal wasn't over. Mistress Angela hid his hair under a bathing cap and taped
his eyes shut with some kind of heavy-duty tape. She also taped over his
eyebrows. Then she proceeded to cover his whole body with a thick layer of foul
smelling cream. The cream hade his skin burn terribly, especially in the places
where the welts were. As he hung there thrashing she explained: "This cream will
insure that you will never grow a single body hair again. Body hair is not
appropriate for little bitches, so you shouldn't have any." After almost half an
hour she hosed him down with cold water, making sure that all the cream was
removed. After shutting off the water she dried him with a towel, being none too
gentle about it. Then she removed his bathing cap and the tape. The next step
was surprisingly gentle. She applied a nice, cool cream to his entire body, not
missing a spot. When she touched his genitals, his cock stirred slightly but his
balls were too swollen and bruised for him to get an erection. As she rubbed the
cream in she said: "This cream will make your skin nice and soft, just as a
woman's should be." Pete had had trouble believing that she was really going to
turn him into a shemale slave, but now it was becoming ever clearer that she was

That she was indeed serious about it became quite clear as she went on to the
next step in his transformation. First she produced a black leather corset,
which she laced him into. The corset extended from just above his hips to just
below his nipples and Mistress Angela tightened it until he felt like he was
going to be cut in half and hung gasping for breath. Next she produced a pair of
shoes and showed them to Pete saying: "From now on you will only wear stilettos.
Nothing with less than five-inch heels." The shoes she showed him were black,
with five-inch heels and locking ankle straps. As she put them on his feet he
found out that they were at least one size too small. Finally she locked a
broad, black leather collar around his neck.

Then she lowered him to the floor. Pete's hands and arm were completely numb and
hung limply down his side, so she had no trouble tying him up. First she sealed
his hands inside mittens made from thick, black rubber. They pressed his hands
into a cone-like shape, rendering them useless. Then she forced his arms behind
his back were she secured them in a black, leather armbinder, it's straps criss-
crossing his chest.

Mistress Angela stood back and regarded her slave: "It'll do for now. Before we
begin your training, it's time to start your hormone therapy." Pete started at
this and in response Mistress Angela grabbed him by the balls and said: "You
will stand absolutely still when I administer your shots, understood?" The
threat removed Pete's will to fight and he nodded in defeat. He stood absolutely
still as she fetched a large syringe and filled before giving him four
injections: one in each butt cheek and one below each of his nipples. Compared
to the beatings and her abuse of his genitals it didn't hurt very much, inducing
only a feeling of tightness in the skin where she had injected the substance. He
wondered precisely what the hormones would do to him, but Mistress Angela
interrupted his train of thought: "The first part of your training is simple:
You are going to learn how to walk like the bitch you really are. Follow my
instructions to the letter or I'll make sure that you feel my displeasure." She
attached a leash to his collar and led him to an open space in the dungeon. Pete
had had some difficulty standing in the high-heeled shoe and walking in them
proved very hard. He stumbled along behind her, much to her displeasure. Hurling
abuse at him, she picked up the leather strap and administered a vicious blow to
his balls. Only her firm grip on his leash prevented him from falling. "You will
learn to walk properly in stilettos, 'cause it's all that you are going to wear
from now on." Then she proceeded to instruct him in how to walk in high heels
while swaying his still bony ass in an appropriately sexy manner. It proved
quite hard, but Mistress Angela's incessant punishment insured that Pete was
soon well on his way to swaying his ass like a seasoned whore.

The training continued for what seemed like hours before Mistress Angela finally
ordered him to stop. When he stopped she instructed him in proper posture when
standing: feet together, shoulders back, chest out and eyes cast down. He stood
like this, not moving an inch while she went to fetch something. She came back
with a bottle filled with something for him to drink. Removing his gag she
warned him not to try and speak before ordering him to drink. He almost refused
to drink when he saw that the bottle had a very life-like penis for him to suck
the liquid out through, but he had been punished enough and Mistress Angela
noted only a small hesitation before his lips reluctantly closed around the fake
dick. Mistress Angela commanded him to drink all the liquid in the bottle, more
than a quart. This required some effort as the liquid really had to be sucked
out, further humiliating him. The liquid itself tasted funny. It had had an
aftertaste like bitter medicine. Mistress Angela smiled at his expression and
said by way of explanation: "Everything you eat and drink, with the exception of
piss and cum, will contain hormones from now on. You will soon acquire nice and
feminine features." To speed this process along she gave him another bottle to
suck the contents out of. This one contained a thick, fatty liquid tasting, as
he later found out, somewhat like semen. "You need to get a little fat on that
pathetically skinny ass of yours," Mistress Angela said. When she had fed him
she replaced his gag and stood in front of him. "Now that your new life has
started, it's time for a new name as well." She smiled a little and said: "I
think that "Alice" is good name for such a little slut. From now on you will no
longer respond to your old name, understood?" Pete understood perfectly, but he
hated this more that anything else she had done to him so far, and tears rolled
down his cheeks as he nodded his understanding. Mistress Angela smiled broadly
and patted his head as she said: "It is for your own good, Alice. You must
understand that a useless slut like you need discipline, need punishment and
abuse. You are never useful, you are just a sissy-slave." This only made
Pete/Alice cry harder. Mistress Angela obviously liked seeing Pete/Alice cry and
with wicked grin she pushed Pete/Alice while tripping him up at the same time,
sending the sissy sprawling on the floor. The landing was especially painful on
the sissy's arms, but Pete/Alice didn't have much time to think about it as
Mistress Angela sat across his chest while removing his gag. "Time to earn your
keep, you useless slave-slut. Eat!" Mistress Angela commanded as she pressed her
blonde bush into Pete/Alice's face. There were no other options, so the sissy
began to eat his mistress' pussy. Pete/Alice wasn't very good at it, and the
first few minutes Mistress Angela shouted abuse at the slave lying prone beneath
her, while slapping his genitals and thighs with the leather strap. Gradually he
absorbed the instructions and his performance improved to the point where
Mistress Angela began to moan. Squeezing her thighs painfully against the sides
of Pete/Alice's head she came, shouting at the sissy what a useless creep he
was. When she had come down she reapplied the gag with a smile, grabbed the
leash and stood up: "Come on slave. Can't loaf around all day, can we?" She
jerked his leash and began to walk. Pete/Alice had no way of getting up and
ended up having to crawl and squirm his way across the cold, stone floor. After
a very uncomfortable and very physically demanding crawl they came to a very
small cage in the far corner of the dungeon. Using the strap as encouragement
Mistress Angela made Pete/Alice crawl into cage, which was so small that he
would only fit inside if his legs were curled up beneath him. Once inside he
couldn't even sit up, and the only position he could assume was folded at the
hip, his legs beneath him and his head resting on the ground in front of his
knees. It was most uncomfortable, but Mistress Angela didn't seem to hear his
muffled whining as she left him, her stilettos tapping away across the stone

Pete/Alice was miserable, in pain, humiliated and robbed of all control over his
own life, his only hope was that someone would come to rescue him. But the more
he thought about it, the more hopeless it seemed. He had no family, no friends
and Mistress Angela (he had already stopped thinking about her as just "Angela")
had replaced all the help around the house with people she had hired.
Considering how long she must have planned it, she would have thought about this
too. Pete/Alice had no illusions as to the allegiance of the new servants. He
thought about what she had said about him signing away his fortune to her and
disappearing from public view. Apart from the fact that the disappearance part
smacked of him being done away with all together, Pete/Alice realized that
Mistress Angela would probably need legal assistance and his signature to
accomplish this. On the face of it, this would seem to provide him with some
hope of escape, but even here he had no illusions. Considering the ferocity and
the skill she put forth in punishing him, he had no doubt that she could force
him to sign anything. As for legal assistance, she had all his money with which
to buy this, so that should be no problem. The future looked bleak for
Pete/Alice and he began to fully realize that he might be well on his way to
becoming a docile, little shemale slave, whether he liked it or not. The thought
made him want to cry.

McDomme's How Can I Help You by Lady Dalia

Scene:  A sunny afternoon in any city.  A drive-thru restaurant named McDommes'.

A disembodied voice says repeatedly:  Good day and welcome to McDommes'.  How can we help you?

Boy One:  Well, I'd like an order of hot and & spicy McDommes' to go, in a package that will keep it fresh.  I want to pull it out to snack on it when it's convenient for me.

Boy Two:  I need some of that slick, softly swirled ice cream on a cone, so I can hold it in my firm grip, lick and twirl my tongue around it, and in it, until it gets so hot it starts to drip down my chin and over my chest and I'll move my hands over the creamy mess and smear it on me because I love McDommes'!  No, no really.  I will surrender my coupons because I love doing it so much.

Boy Three:  I want everything on the menu: snacks, meals, drinks, and desserts.  I have quite the appetite *flexes his flabby belly to an imaginary camera* There is nothing that I don't want and cannot handle.  I don't care what happens to me.  Until there is something I haven't thought of.  And yes, you still have liability.

Boy Four:  Give me a package of McDommes' cookies.  Those in the cute cookie cutter shapes, sweet but brittle, so I can break them up in to tiny pieces and dip them in my scalding, hot coffee.  I love it when they go all mushy on me.

Boy Five:  I am here to protest McDommes' lack of complaints form in this drive-thru.  I should be given the ability to impinge your name at every opportunity and it just isn't sporting of you not to give me one right now.  "stomps his foot on the gas, rear ending the boy in front of him*

Boy Six:  I'd like to buy gift certificates.  I will never use them.  In fact, force me to buy them.  I love a touch of extortion in my day.  We'll just pretend, ok?

Boy Seven:  I'd like a Big McDommes' Value Meal, hold the lettuce, onions, condiments, cheese and meat. Substitute the fries with cookies and give me a frothy shake instead of a fizzy drink.  I'm on a McDommes' diet.

Boy Eight: Uh.  Uhm.  Hrmmm.  Uh.  Hang on...

Boy Nine shouts over eight's car:  I thought this was Mc Dommes'!  Why is it taking so long to order?

Boy Ten reading from a long, detailed list: I'll take a snack pack first, the 5 not the 20, then slip me a taste of pie, just as a tease, before passing me a french fry, dangle it over my lips but DO NOT LET ME bite...

Boy Eleven in a stage whisper: This isn't taped is it?  I don't want anyone to know I am here.  I'll come visit from time to time but you can't tell anyone.

Boy Eight again:  Uh.  I don't know? *sighs*

Boy Ten continues reading:  Come at me unexpectedly with a sandwich and shove it in my mouth.

Boy Twelve:  I am here to save you from yourself.  I am a quality control expert.  I know how it should all be done.  Never mind that  I have no experience.  I'll tell you how, when and why you should be doing everything.  Don't worry, leave it all to me.

Boy Ten inserts:  I have been planning this for a long time...

Boy Eight finally:  Give me a little of everything and I'll send back what I don't like.  You don't mind, do you?

A Greek Chorus steps in front of the action: Never fear dear audience... *two women echo the word fear back and forth, till it passes gently away* At the cashier's window, none of them had any currency, of any kind.

The End.

Forbidden by Russell


I love you with a love that's forbidden, yet I can't stop.
you make me feel like no woman has ever made me feel before,
with just a look I melt.
I dream of your arms around me, your lips on mine.
Soft whispers in my ear that bind me to you, stronger than any chain.
When you look at me, my soul shudders with conflicting emotions.
Is it love, lust or a sense of peace and surrender.
In my dreams I am strong and sensual to you and there’s no end to the pleasure I can give you.
In my dreams I feel you near me,
around me, bodies intertwined...wanting..needing
I want to express my feelings openly
without fear or reservation,
but this is a forbidden fruit,
so I hide it,
keep it in secret and love you only in my dreams.
For only in my dreams will this be acceptable.
only in my dreams can my fantasies be realized.

So I remain quiet and dream of what can never be.

Confession Part Three by Lady Vixie

To recap parts I and II, Sue has agreed to serve me tonight. I've tied her up and placed her along my weight bench. I've warmed her up pretty thoroughly. She's a transgendered woman of 40, 5'9", 160 lbs, with a nice tight ass.

"Are you ready for some real pain, dear?" I ask. "Yes, mistress" she says in a low moan. I can tell she's already partway into sub space. Her ass and most of her legs are bright pink. She's definitely ready.

I rub her ass sensually, taking my time. I want her sense of anticipation to build.

"We're going to move you, dear. I want to play with all of you now."

"Yes, Mistress."

I snick open the carabiners on her wrist cuffs and free her arms. I pull her back up into a kneeling position, supporting her against falling. My lingerie brushes sensually against her.

After a minute she reports she's ready to move. I pick her up bodily and stand her up, supporting her again so that she does not fall. That's always a danger with a spanked sub.

I lead her to the beam that separates my living room from my dining room. Making sure she can stand all right on her own, I tie her wrist cuffs to the eyebolts in the beam. She is spread-eagled before me. I lean forward and kiss her deeply, eagerly, then spank her ass just enough to get her attention.

"This is going to hurt, dear. Be sure to say Yellow if it hurts too much."

"Yes, Mistress."

My crop consists of a flexible plastic handle with a wide doubled leather flap at the end. It can be used anywhere from gently to wickedly. I'm in a semi-wicked mood. I pull back on the crop and let it snap back against her exposed cheek. She shudders and lets out a low groan.

"Too much, dear?"

"No, Mistress. More please."

I snap the crop across her other cheek, then massage both cheeks briefly. Then in rapid succession, I snap the crop a half dozen times against different spots on her exposed ass. I'm not mean enough to do it to the same spot each time.

She shudders and strains against the ropes. I massage her ass lovingly.

Again, I give her half a dozen snaps. Again I massage her ass, slowly, sensually. Then I drag my fingernails across the reddened areas. "Ohhhhhhhhhh!" she cries out.

"Had enough, dear?"

"No, Mistress. More, please!"

OK, I think, time to finish her off. A half-dozen hard snaps in quick succession, followed by a half-dozen more. It has her rocking in her bonds, straining against the ropes. I'm going to guess she came.

"Now, dear? Have you had enough?"

"I think so, mistress."

"Well," I said, "You've been a *very* good girl. You deserve a special reward."

I unhook her cuffs from the ropes and snick them closed behind her. I lead her to the bedroom and close the door behind us.

<The End>

John’s Long Journey into Night – Part Ten by Doc Nolan

                                        John’s Long Journey into Night – Part Ten

Synopsis of Previous Parts:  John, recently divorced, has become involved with Leonore, hub figure in a circle of dommes.   He discovers -- late -- that she is a friend of his ‘ex’:  Margaret.  Leonor, who is a complex person ever seeking adventures, takes John off  to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania – after locking him up tight, the key to his ‘parts’ dangling from her wrist.  There she loans him to Laura – her good friend – and a sadist!”  Leonore tells John a secret about herself: though she isn't much into inflicting pain on men, she loves to watch Laura do so – and that she loves stimulating herself with her Hitachi Magic Wand as she does so.

John was alone.  He was excited.  In an hour or less Laura would be back, ready to turn his existence into a fog of pain.  Though a masochist, John wasn't sure if the evening ahead would be stimulating or simply – a horror.  He was frightened.  His only consolation: He could watch Leonore getting off.  Somehow that was a comfort.  Laura would be getting physical gratification from watching him suffer.  John was discovering strange corners in his mind.  It went so deep that he realized that -- if he ex-wife had walked in and learned of his predicament and started laughing in front of Leonore and Laura and sat down to watch -- that too would turn him on.  He sensed he’d say, “Yes, yes, yes, yes” through the shame and embarrassment and resentment.

He had never realized how deeply twisted he was.  Leonore’s influence was making him see more deeply into himself.

Then, with a jolt, John thought: perhaps all three women of these women knew (or at least suspected) how perverted he was.  Maybe women – at least some -- were, in some magical way, endowed with a gift denied to him: the ability to read minds and to plumb depths of his soul, leaving no tracks of their visit.  John’s reverie ended….

“I’m back!”  It was Laura’s loud voice in the kitchen. He heard Leonore then, from the sound of it in the bedroom: “How did the class go, Laura?”

“Great!  I’m so charged, primed and excited!”  John heard the click, click, click of Laura’s heels on the vinyl kitchen floor.  Then silence.  John sensed Laura standing in the door.
“Oh, MY, Fido!  You have an evening ahead YOU that you are NEVER going to forget.  I have sooooo much energy and tonight I am going to focus every bit of it on your pathetic frame!  You are going to suffer and I am going to burn myself out putting you into pain!”  Laura broke into open laughter.  It made chills run down John’s back.  He was so grateful that Leonore was here – and would be here there this night -- watching.
A shadow briefly crossed John’s mind: he wouldn’t be here in this Victorian house in Pittsburgh – frightened -- if Leonore hadn’t brought him here.  But then he relaxed.  At least his suffering would serve a purpose: he would be the evening’s entertainment for Leonore as well as for Laura.  There was only one thin difference between the women: one the actor; the other the voyeur.  Why didn’t he resent Leonore using him as a ‘circus act’ for her own entertainment and gratification?  He came up empty.  The answer was locked up in some basement room in his mind that he had not yet found.

Leonore walked into the room and when John looked up at her he was amazed.  She was totally naked – except for an lacy ivory-colored bra.  It looked very expensive and elegant.  She wore no shoes, no stockings, no skirt, no panties, nothing…. Well not exactly nothing.  She had jewelry on.  Bracelet, earrings, three rings one on each of the last three fingers of her right hand.

Looking down, he noticed a glint of metal peeking out shyly from her exposed genitalia.   There, too.  John forced his eyes to the ground.  It wasn’t polite to stare.  Even as he looked down, though, he could see this image of Leonore in his mind; he no longer needed to use his eyes.

Leonore turned to Laura.  “Laura, I want you to use your energy on Fido. I’m going to be very disappointed if you hold back.  I really want to cum hard tonight – hard and often – and you know what it takes.  I love it when you really take off the kid gloves with the men I bring you.”

Laura grinned.

“Leonore, you fucking pervert!  I do all the work and you just watch, rubbing your fucking Hitachi back and forth.  Damn you!”  Laura was kidding. Leonore knew it.  “Seriously… it really turns *me* on to turn and see how much you get off on watching your worms hurt.  Did you know that?”   Leonore just nodded.

John felt like a caged animal in a circus ring.

Laura looked down at John, his eyes again pointing earthward.  Laura spoke. “Stay, Fido.”  I’m going to make some sandwiches for Leonore and me.  We start in 25 minutes: at 6 pm.  Until then I want to you imagine all the things I’m capable of doing to you.” She chuckled.

“I bet you can’t even imagine half of them.”  She giggled.  “Bye, Fido!”

As the two women disappeared into the kitchen, John raised his eyes, shamelessly staring at Leonore’s ass, and then over at Laura’s shapely thighs.  He knew it might be the last pleasure he might have in quite a while.

From the kitchen he could hear them talking if he strained hard.  They were discussing what tools to use on him.  And several times he heard Leonore say, “Well his ex told me was…… “ – and then she’d whisper and he didn’t know what Margaret had told Leonore.

It was strange to then hear Laura break and to laughter and say, “Oh my god… you have gotta be kidding.”
John simply replayed the first year of his marriage – and wondered if there was anything that Margaret had kept private.  He suspected not.

                                                    (to be continued)

The Game Part One: Preparation by Anonymous

t started with a whisper. A rumor on the web. An urban legend of sorts. A game being beta tested. So hush hush that you have to be invited by somebody already in the game to participate. I wanted it. All the rumors said it was awesome. New technology to use all your senses in the game. The graphics were almost too real. Problem was nobody knew what it was about, where to sign up, or who might be one of the select few beta testers. The phone rings bringing me back from the speculation going on in my head. Gazing at the clock I realize who it must be and that I am LATE. I quickly close the computer grabbing my cell. "Hey am on my way. Sorry was doing some research," I quickly explain on my way out the door.

Hello, my name is Alex, I'm 32 and a student working on my computer programing degree...and this..well you could say this is my story.

I was late...and she was giving me the lecture over the phone again. "Studies before games," Melissa was telling me over the phone as I got into my car.

"I know but I just can't help myself. There is a game out there that is supposed to be THE GAME. I can I not wait to just get my hands on it!" She laughed and I could almost hear her shaking her head through the phone. "Look I'll be there in a few minutes. Just wait for me ok?" I didn't wait for an answer I hung up the phone..If i knew then what I know now I might have not done that so often.

I backed out of the parking lot and made my way down the streets. Traffic wasn't that bad and only took me 15 minutes to get to the study group. Of course Melissa was waiting with her arms folded, tapping her foot impatiently.

"I know i know" I quickly said as I approached and received the usual collection of books into my arms and the punishment of a punch to my shoulder. "Ouch! Come on Mel, you ever going to get tired of that?" She pretended to think about it for a moment and then smiled with that sweet evil look

"Never. Now come on we are late!" I quickly followed her inside.  The time went by quickly but it was obvious to anyone that my mind was only half focused on the design of the project we were working on.  What kind of game was it....why so secretive?  I tried to guess if anyone here in the room might have been chosen for the beta testing. Why would they chose from here? Obviously not, there is no way. I dismissed that almost as fast as I had thought it in the first place. Perhaps I'll do some asking at the mall tomorrow.

My focus returned to the project and we finished just a little after the planned time. The sun had already went down by this time and we said our partings. "Need a lift home Mel?"  I asked to distract her from what I knew was going to be another lecture about focusing.

"No thanks, I'll walk. Though you can take me to the mall tomorrow when you go." It was more of a statement, and I was about to ask how she knew I was going, but decided to leave it at that

"Sure thing I'll see you in the morning then."

The next day I was dressed and at Melissa's door at 6am. No answer when I knocked, .so I called her phone. Ring ring ring. And then again. Ring ring ring. When she picked up with a sleepy hello I quickly asked "You ready!?" There was a click and dead air.

Another Ring ring ring. "Alex it's 6 in the morning. We don't have classes. Why are you up so early?" was my greeting this time.

"Got to get there before it gets crowded." I said in an overly sarcastic tone. She hung up again but I could hear her moving around inside. I knew it'd be some time...teeth, shower, dressing, so I slumped down and produced a book from my pack. Reading it till she emerged.

I wasn't was 7:30 at this time. though part of me thinks that was just for spite. "Ready?" she asked with a satisfied look on her face.

I put the book into my pack and stood up quickly. "Ready when you are!" I replied quickly, and we left for the mall. Now this wasn't my first time at the mall with Mel so I knew her shopping came first. And if I left her side to do something, I'd hear about it later. I suppose I should say - no, we are not girlfriend/boyfriend...just good friends.

Today she didn't pull any punches as we went through the store. Girls department with dresses and skirts. Then blouses and pants. Finally to the panties and bra's. I always fidgeted a little during these outings. She seemed to not notice it, though I swear every so often I see a devious grin just out of the corner of my eye.

Shoes were next, a goth shop, and then any odd shop that caught her fancy along the way. Finally we made it to the video store. I of course was packed down with bags that must never hit the floor. I conversed with the clerk at the desk but he seemed to not know anymore then I about the mysterious game. Mel of course listened along while gazing at the games on the shelves. Finally I gave up as we were going to leave the mall. It was half the day now and no luck here.

"I have one more stop to make Alex. Mind coming with me?"

"Sure thing Mel but can I put these in the car first?" She nodded and gave a little chuckle

"Here I'll help," she replied, taking a bag (the smallest) from my hand and we went back out to the car, where I carefully placed everything into the back seat securely.

Walking back into the mall we made our way to an out of the way section that had been boarded up. "Wait here if you don't mind," Mel said as she left to knock on one of the doors.

It opened and a person peeked out. They spoke briefly and then the person went back inside as Mel came back over. "You owe me one Alex," she said as a lady came from the door carrying a clip board.

"I hear you want to be a beta tester Alex." I had to blink a moment and look from Mel to the new lady. I couldn't respond, and  I stood there stunned for a moment

"You're lucky, we were about to move after today.  And you must be his handler?" she said to Mel,  and they exchanged a sort of knowing smile.

"Well yes I'll be the one inviting him," she responded, before the lady turned her attention back to me.

"Fill this out and sign the non-discloser agreement and we'll get your starting package." I was so happy that I hardly looked at the agreement more then to find the places to sign. After all, it must be the standard  beta testing agreements.

They brought out a box after I had signed the paper. Mel had to sign as my handler, what ever that meant, before they finally handed the box over. When the lady wished us luck and left I could not say nothing but, "Thank you Mel, how? why?"

She just waved her hand and said again, "You owe me one Alex, and I'll collect. Believe me." As we went back to the car I glanced in the box to see the label that read "SRI: The D", Even that was cryptic. I'd find out soon enough.

The Assistant Part Two: The Hire by Lady Crissy

The Assistant - Part II  The Hire

Note:   In part one, Miss Night interviewed a promising candidate, who curiously had one of her friends from the D/s community as a reference.

It took a bit longer to find the time to call references, but the lack of a secretary had me pushing the non client work to the very back burner. It wasn't until the next day that I was able to take care of them, and eventually dialed up Monica to get the story on Aaron.  She answered on the second ring, which was a pleasant surprise.

"Hi Monica, its Sandra.  It's been a long time,"  I started, genuinely happy to talk to her again.

Her voice was warm and she didn't seem at all surprised to hear from me.  "Sandra!  It's so good to hear from you.  I was hoping you would call when I let Aaron put me down as a reference."   I could hear the smile in her voice.

We spent a bit of time catching up, sharing information on old club members and what they were up to now.  Then I got back to the reason I called.  

"Aaron is a fine boy, Sandra.  But do be gentle with him.  He's new at all this."  She ended with a chuckle. She knew me too well.

"If he wants gentle, he's come to the wrong place.  But you know that, Monica.  So what's the story here. I need a good secretary.  The rest would be icing."   I was beginning to think maybe sticking to the business duties might be best.

"Oh, he's very good.  He worked for me for six months until My bobby returned. As you remember, bobby's mother was very ill and he had to be away from me for some time.  Aaron did secretarial duties only, but he did learn protocol and attended some events with me,"  she explained.  "He was very disciplined and when I sanctioned him the once or twice, he accepted the consequences and never did them again.  He's intelligent.... and pretty,"  she continued, that smile in her voice again, then laughed softly.   I could tell she was trying to make a sell.

'So, why the sell job, Monica?" Now you've got me curious,"  I inquired.

"He's a good boy, with great skills in the work you need done. He knows his place.  He's bright, attractive, willing to learn.  VERY willing to learn."  she emphasized it and let it lie there.  The lure of fresh meat was dangling, and not only that - a boy that knew protocol and had been prepared to serve.  Monica was picky, almost as picky as me, so it was saying a lot that he got her endorsement.

"I see what you did there, Monica, you bitch."   I laughed and she laughed with me. "Ok, I will give him a chance.  But, Monica?"

"Yes?'  she responded, curious.

 "Gentle is not part of the training program."  I chuckled and said my goodbyes. hanging up the phone.  I had some thinking to do.

 A bunch of calls later I finished the other references, and after looking over the other candidate's materials, I made a decision.  Even without his training with Monica, Aaron was heads above the others.   I decided to give him a chance.  

I dialed his phone and got voice mail, so I left a message telling him to be at my office at 9a tomorrow.  If he was smart, he wouldn't disappoint.

The next morning I got a call from security and had them let Aaron up.  He was early, 845a.   I went back to reading and responding to emails.  I heard a knock at the door.  "Come in, Aaron."  I called out and minimized the email client.

He walked in, and came to stand in front of my desk.  He was wearing a dark blue suit today, light blue shirt, with a tie of a hue that fell somewhere in between.  He smelled faintly of... some very yummy scent that I couldn't put my finger on.

I stood and walked around to the same side of the desk and sat on the edge of it.  I scooted back so my heels dangled.  "Have a seat, Aaron, "  I stated, and motioned to the chair.  He smiled and sat gently.

"I spoke to Miss Monica, " I started, and watched him lower his eyes.  Smart boy indeed.  He made the leap that if I called Monica, that I might expect him to show proper deference. Point for him.  "She had good things to say about you, Aaron.  She is an old friend, you know."   I watched him nod silently.

The shift in his demeanor and energy was smooth and arousing.  Like blood in the water.  The moment a boy show the recognition that he is in the presence of a superior Lady, its game on. Well, if the Lady wanted it to be.

"I propose a trial run, Aaron."  I said simply.

"Yes, Miss Night?  That's very generous of you.  Thank you."  I could hear the genuine happiness in his voice.  And more.  Arousal, nervousness.  He kept his eyes lowered, but I could tell he was trying to catch glances at my feet in the heels.  Noted.

"You start now then, boy.  On your knees, "  I said firmly, watching him quickly move off the chair and find his knees on the floor in front of me.

Game on.

End of Part II

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Cam's Confession

Dear listeners, I am a wanker.  Not in the common British vernacular of jerk, asshole or jackass. What I mean is that I masturbate. A lot.  I've been doing it since...well, since puberty.  Every day. Several times a day.  It's not particularly a thing I do just for the pleasure of it.  It's more a compulsion; a way of waking up in the morning, and a way to relax before falling asleep at night.  When I don't do it, I miss it. It's like...not having your morning coffee, or not having your favourite pillow.  When its not there, there's a hole. Its an itch you just have to scratch.  Well, maybe not an itch - you don't really want to be itching down there, but you know what I mean.

So when I met Lady Pere, it was a bit of a wake-up call to me.  She insists, as do many other Ladies, that her boy doesn't simply fling his seed all over the place.  It is her material; to do as she pleases with.  My pleasure is Hers to give.  More importantly, self-denial is a key way to show devotion to Her.  To prove that I can be trusted, that I am worthy of Her time and attention.

The first time Lady Pere kept me chaste was frustrating, infuriating, erotic and unbearable.  I would be walking down the street and feel pre-cum leak involuntarily from my cock.  It was only a few days, and she let me have a ruined orgasm at the end of it.  Release, after a fashion, but not relief.

You wont be surprised to know though, dear listeners, that my desperate, slutty ways got the better of me.  A few days later, I failed her for the first time.  I touched myself.  I woke up with an erection and started to play with myself.  I knew it was wrong, and stopped fairly quickly.  But the damage was done.  Worse, I didn't know what to do.  I didn't tell her right away, but somehow, Lady Pere knew.  She was mad at me.  Not I'm going to chop off your dick off and feed it to the dog" mad.  Worse than that - the "I'm going to kick you out of my life and never talk to you again" mad.  She promised me that I'd end up kneeling on a board. On dry, uncooked rice if I continued.  She was kind to me that time, though.  I only got denial for a week.

Everything went fine for a while.  Still mostly denied, and still mostly keeping myself chaste, I had my first ever wet dream.  I always thought they were something of a myth, but there you go.  That's what happens when you masturbate as often as I have for years on end and then suddenly stop - your body starts to do all sorts of odd things.

A few days later, though, and I succumbed again. And this was on a morning after She let me cum.  Once Her initial rage subsided, Lady Pere started out by sentencing me to two weeks' chastity.  After thinking it through, though, she came up with a punishment.  The Rule of 13.  13 slaps to the balls to be administered for a transgression, with the addition of one slap /for every second/ I continued.

Its the best thing that could've happened to me.  Lady Pere loves to hear me suffer as I slap my balls for her.  My pain carried by the magic of the Internet to distant shores; packets of agony pinging across the Atlantic Ocean, delivered directly to Her ears.  I hate it.  I'd do almost anything to avoid having to slap my balls.  I stopped touching myself instantly.  And I didn't touch myself at all again (at least, not without being told to) for two weeks.  Well, that's not quite true.  24 hours less than two weeks.  For me, that's geological eons of self-denial.

But a leopard never changes its spots and this morning, after waking up and opening my eyes to see the green soulless stare of the alarm clock reading "6:39 am", I did it.  I failed.  I failed Her and I failed myself.  I touched myself. And it felt so damn good.  I should've stopped.  I knew I should stop. I didn't want to.  I stopped when the clock hit "6:40 am" and my alarm buzzed - I had to, I needed that hand to hit the button to make it stop.  Less than 60 seconds.  I had to summon up every ounce of willpower to haul my sorry ass out of bed.  I'd failed, and I was going to have to take the rap for this.  But this was not the time; I had to get to work.

Now, I'm a pretty honest guy.  Really, I am.  Once, I got one of those Playstation hand-held consoles as a gift from a supplier.  We weren't supposed to take 'inducements', but no-one would've known had I just slipped the box in my bag and taken it home.  Did I do that?  Dear listeners, no.  I put it in the Christmas raffle (along with a couple of bottles of wine and a diary - a diary, wow!)

The colleague who won it took it home and, since he already had one, sold it to a mate.  I got a lot of kudos with my staff for doing that.  So, what do you think I would do having failed Lady Pere a third time?  Would I simply report everything was fine; that I'd been a good boy (yet again) and get away with it?

No way.  Not only would it not occur to me to lie about it, it would break the bond of trust between us.  That bond was already severely damaged by my disobeying Her orders.  I did, though, wonder what the best way to tell her might be.  How could I curry favour and lessen her inevitable wrath?

I decided to write a scene and email it to her.  I won't bore you with the details - you're probably bored enough already. Suffice it to say that I hope she enjoyed reading it.  It didn't make any difference, though.  You can put lipstick on a pig and it's still a pig.  I can't varnish the truth.  So here I am, writing this confession as part of my punishment.

Just a part of my punishment, of course.  The rest of my punishment consisted of kneeling on a bed of dry rice and spanking myself with a wooden spoon while spraying "Deep Heat" (my American listeners will know it as "Icy Hot") on my balls; with my nipples and cock pegged.  Yes, I had to rip them off at the end.  I don't know how many times I spanked myself with the spoon, but it still stung the following afternoon.

But those punishments were as nothing compared to having to endure Lady Pere's ire; the knowledge that I'd failed Her was worse than any punishment she could mete out.  I'm here to ask not for your forgiveness, but for your understanding.  I am a wanker.  But worse than that, I failed you Lady Pere and I am more sorry than words can say.

John’s Long Journey into Night – Part Nine by Doc Nolan

John’s Long Journey into Night – Part Nine

Synopsis of Previous Parts:  John, recently divorced, goes to his high school
reunion, and meets a former classmate, Leonore, who is at the hub of a circle of
female dommes.   He discovers that his supposedly ‘chance meeting’ with Lenore
has been everything but; it was engineered by his ex-wife Margaret. Leonore
explains that “I thought you might bring some adventure and excitement into my
life”. John has been taken to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, by Lenore – but only
after she has locked him up tight, putting the key to his ‘parts’ on her wrist.
There she turns him over to Laura – who Leonore describes with a grin as ‘a good
friend – and a sadist!”  Laura indeed is….

John was kneeling on the floor of Laura’s kitchen and could still feel the glow
and dull ache where Laura had been applying a yardstick to his backside.  Leonore
seemed delighted at his predicament.  John felt very ‘owned’ and – despite the
pain – in a place where he felt needed and wanted -- if only to provide

Nonetheless, John needed something softer.  He wasn't sure quite what, but it was
close to comfort and very near forgiveness.  He wasn't sure that he would get it.
 Laura spoke first.  “Hey, Leonore, I know you’re having fun watching, and I
really appreciate you thinking of me, but I have to leave soon.  I’m moderating a
seminar at Carnegie Mellon on information networking this morning.  You two have
fun!”  And Laura applied one more stripe to his butt, swinging it as hard as she
could.  John felt the searing pain ascending as Laura turned, laughing, and left
the room.

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, and endured as it washed past and
subsided.   When he opened them – still kneeling – Leonore’s face was two feet
away.  She was right in front of him, inches from his face.  Her eyes were
twinkling mischievously.  “Did she hurt you?,” asked Leonore softly.  John
nodded.  And then Leonore scooted around to sit, cross-legged, in front of him.
She looked into his eyes.  He stared at her crotch.  And she didn’t say a thing
for a long while.

“John, I told you she’s a sadist.  But, John, you have done very, very well.  To
tell you the truth, I had taken everything Margaret told me about you and
accepted it as verbatim truth.   I shouldn't have.”  John didn’t know what to say
– so he said nothing.

“Would you like to know what Margaret told me about you – that was wrong?”  John
felt himself tensing just hearing the word ‘Margaret’ but he knew that Leonore
was now dead serious and wanted a truthful answer.  He spoke, “I’m not sure.”

“Too bad.  I’m gonna tell you anyway – and, John, quit staring at my crotch. It
is distracting!  My breasts fine, pussy no.”  John’s face flushed.  “Sorry, Miss
Leonore,” he said.

“Bullshit, John, you’re not sorry – you’re just pathetic…..” She paused.

“Anyway, your ex-wife told me that you were a masochist, but she also told me you
were a whiner.  Frankly, I haven’t seen one bit of whining – yet.”  She paused,
obviously thinking. “And I don’t expect that to change.”  John nodded weakly,
knowing that – when married he had sometimes been, well, a bit, uh…. The only
word that came to John’s mind was Margaret’s.

“I won’t whine, Miss Leonore.  I mean I’ll try not to, anyway….”

Leonore leaned very close to John’s face and simply raised her wrist between
them.  On her wrist was the golden chain, and dangling on it were the two keys.
One was John’s.  She smiled into his face.  “You will NOT whine, John – because I
have the key to your brain…. “ She glanced down at his crotch.  “well… at least
the one that counts.”  And at that she chuckled and, abruptly, stood up.

“I think, John, we will take a very short break from our adventure now.  I’m
going to demand you stay down but you can relax for the next 10 or 15 minutes.
I’m going to give you a massage.  Just go to hands and knees now.”  John did.

In the other room Laura’s voice echoed from the entry, “I’ll be back in about two
hours, Leonore.  Don’t tease Fido too much while I’m gone….”.  And then the front
door slammed.

John felt Leonore’s hands on his back.  He tensed.  She responded.

“Hey, I’m not Laura!  Take it easy.”  And she began to gently but firmly knead
the tenseness out of his back.  It took a few minutes for him to realize she
genuinely intended this to be pleasant for him.  He was a bit surprised!

“Laura was kinda tough on you,” said Leonore.  I knew she would be, you know.  I
really wanted to see how you reacted, honestly.  You do know, John, that you are
kind of an experiment for me, right?”

John nodded.

“Do you know why I’m being so nice to you now?”  She waited for an answer.
John’s mind came up with several smart-ass responses to that, but he kept his
mouth shut.  He decided the only true ones were “No” and “Because you want to?”
And that’s what he said aloud.

“Good answers, John.  Now I’ve got a harder question for you.  Ready?”

John said, “Yes, Miss.”

“By now I suppose you’ve figured out that I’m not much into hurting you, but that
Laura is, right?”

John nodded.

“What you may not know is that I get very turned on watching her hurt boys like
you.  I’m into watching.  And I’m into bringing boys here and watching her
inflict pain on men.  Do you find that incredibly perverted?”  John paused, not
sure of what he should say.  Leonore saved him the trouble by answering her own
question.  “I am very perverted John.  You had better get ready for surprise
after surprise from me….” She paused.  “You are the sixth guy I’ve brought here
in case you wondered.   And there was one more I dumped along the side of the
turnpike at the Breezewood exit.  He simply wasn’t working out at all.”  John’s
mind raced.  What a place to be stranded!  In the middle of the Allegheny
Mountains.  Nowhere.  Lots of motels at least.  He wondered how the guy had
gotten back to civilization from there….

“So far I’ve been pleased.”  Then he felt her hands stop their kneading.  She
added one more word: “Fido!”  And she giggled.

“Anyway, when Laura’s gets ‘into the mood’ she really gets vicious.  Forget about
a yardstick.  She goes all out, Fido.  So here’s your chance to bail.  First,
though, remember that I simply love to watch her take out her stresses on some
poor victim – like you.  Second, and better news is that she dropped out of
medical school a few years ago and knows enough to make sure you don’t get
‘damaged’.  So if you’re worried about any ER visits, you can stop thinking about
that.  Laura’s accomplished at creating pain – but she has never permanently
injured anyone.  She knows the score.”  Leonore stopped kneading.  He sensed she
was coming around in front of him again.  He saw her delicate feet and ankles.
And then she plopped down in front of him again.  She put her soft hands atop
his.  He gazed at the perfectly manicured nails.  She spoke.

“I really, really want to watch Laura hurt you Fido…. Not damage you; just make
you squirm.  My question to you is simple.  Will you endure that to make me
happy?  Or will you say no, in which case I’ll take off your cock cage, send you
out the front door, and let you figure out how you’ll get home.  Cause I ain't
takin’ you if you bail on me, John.

It didn’t take an instant for John to answer.  “I’m in, Miss Leonore.  I don’t
know why, but I am.  I don’t want to endure whatever Laura has in store for me,
but… well… honestly….”  Leonore finished the sentence for him.

“You’ll do whatever it takes to make me happy….. Right, John?”

He nodded.

“Margaret was right about two things, John.”  She took a breath. “One, you really
are pathetic.  And two, you really do need direction!  Now, aren't you glad that
Margaret – bad old Margaret – turned you over to me?”

John gulped.  She waited.

“Yes, Miss Leonore.”

She shook her head.  “No, John.  Say the whole sentence!”

He looked at the floor and then firmly said the whole thing: “Miss Leonore, I am
pathetic.  I do need direction.  I am glad Margaret turned me over to you.”  John
couldn’t believe he had managed to get past the word Margaret…. He slumped.

“Well, John, from now on you are Fido.  I’m going to take a shower now.  For the
time being, my only command is ‘stay’!  Got that?”  He nodded.

“When we get back I’ll tell you most of the things that Laura will be doing to
you.”  Leonore grinned again.  “Partly to see the look on your face.”  She got

“Oh, in case you care, while Laura is torturing you tonight, expect me to be
consoling myself with my Hitachi Magic Wand a few yards away from you.  Since you
seem to like staring at my crotch so much, maybe that will help you endure your
sad, sad situation.  I certainly expect to have a ball watching YOUR crotch!”
She giggled and walk out of the room, very deliberately rolling her hips as she
left.  John noticed.

                (to be continued)

The Confession by Lady Dalia

The Confession by Dalia Fermi

Now that all is lost I feel the pain.
An emptiness inside me,
Spreading coldness as I draw farther away.
To try again, open my heart,
Seems impossible.
My spirit and will torn to pieces.
To trust in another,
Give with determination,
A vastly uncertain chance.
But to live with my eyes wide open
And a heart of stone,
are made easier because of you.
One day I will become blind again
To a man with your ways.
Pity me then if I make that mistake
For sympathy is lost on me now.
Since I know it was my own stupidity,
To trust in you.

Two Haiku For Spring by Anonymous

Two haiku for Spring

My new hat

Velvet crushed , caressing silver hair.
Spring wind
catches the feathers

My first grandchild

Twenty years waiting.  Early spring couplings.
brings not one,
but two.

The Assistant Part 1 by Lady Crissy

The Assistant

Part I - The Interview

I got off the phone and began typing my notes into the database. Details about the client, some notes about their questions, my initial impressions and ideas on how to begin.   I was almost finished when my desk phone buzzed.  The display said it was the front office receptionist.  I hit the speaker phone and continued to type.

"Hi Sharla, what's up?"  I said while typing, predicting in my mind why she called.

"Your appointment regarding your open position is here."   I could hear a bit of amusement in her voice.  

I chuckled, "What aren't you telling me, Sharla?"

"Shall I send him up?"  she continued, ignoring my question.

I shook my head, "Sure, and I will get you later."  The "Yes, Miss Night." that followed was filled with mischievousness.  I was going to get my payback if this guy was a real loser.   I hated wasting my time, and so many people that had applied the personality and intellect of a thumbtack.

I finished up my notes and closed the file, bringing up my interview process notes. I was ready to waste some more time.  There was a knock at the door.

"Come in,"  I called, standing.   The young man opened the door and took a couple of steps in, then turned to face me.  

"Miss Night?"

I thought to say something smartassed, but then decided to give him a chance.  I was trying to be hopeful.  "Please have a seat," was my reply. I motioned to the chair on the other side of the desk and sat back down. He smiled a nervous, polite smile and moved to sit gently on the chair. The tie was light grey-blue, very understated.  Ok, so maybe he did have a chance.  Appearance matters.  Dark hair, cut short and very beautiful hazel eyes.  Silently I checked off all his qualities that were pleasing.  Clean cut, trimmed and neat nails.  However it took a lot more than a good look.

I began the interview with a description of the open position, the requirements, pay and hours.  He had some previous experience he explained, and it seemed most of the duties I would have for him, he had done before as a part of other positions.  His voice was deep, but the tone was soft and pleasant.  He spoke clearly, answered the questions asked and did not interrupt or blather on.  A trait that I found untenable.

"So tell me a bit about why you feel you should be offered the job."  I sat back to listen.

"First of all, Miss Night, I'm willing to do whatever is necessary. "  He said it so easily., I felt an inner chuckle in response.  Outwardly I was poker faced.  He had no idea what "whatever" and "anything" meant to a Dominant.

"Continue,"  I instructed.

"I'm very loyal and committed Miss Night.  I would not disappoint you," he continued.  Shows confidence, noted.   He went on to talk about his work experience, positions he'd had.  He seemed very well rounded.  "Miss Night, I would be very honored to work for you."

 "So, my reputation proceeds me?"  I smiled.

 "Yes, MIss Night,"  he said, and a look of intensity flashed briefly across his face.  But it was gone quickly.  Curious....

"I hope its a good reputation,"  I inquired.

"Impeccable, Miss,"   he answered.

I asked him for the list of references that he was to bring with him.  I watched him open the portfolio he brought with him and took out a piece of paper.  He smiled, stood and leaned over to the place in front of me on the desk before sitting down again.  No rings on his fingers, I noted. Good to know.

I took up the paper and holding it, leaned back in my chair.  I had a good feeling, but I didn't want to get up too much hope too soon.  I took my time, letting him wait while I read everything over three times...very slowly.  The one name caught my attention each time, and I had to say I was a little more than surprised.  I watched him out of the corner of my eye, but there was no fidgeting, not a word, and when I looked up, there was a half smile on his face. Did he know I was testing him?  Very possible given the name that captured my attention.

I stood abruptly and held out my hand, setting the sheet of references on the desk.  He stood quickly, a bit surprised, but took my hand and shook it.  "Thank you for coming in."   I broke the handshake and walked around the desk and toward the door.  He followed and when I paused at the door, opening it, I turned to face him.  "I'll be in touch," I said, and watched him smile warmly.

"Thank you Miss Night, I look forward to it."  he smiled back.  As he stepped through the door I reached out to grab his ass firmly and felt him stiffen, and a gentle shudder ran through him.  

"I'll make sure to give your regards to Miss Monica,"   I chuckled as I let go.  "Off you go now,"  I said, smacking his ass firmly.    I watched him walk a bit shaken to the elevator, and I closed the door behind him.  I walked to my desk and spread out his resume, writing samples and reference.   The materials were clear, concise and very well done.  It ws worth a call to his references.   Monica would be first.

End of Part I

For The One They Call Pom Pom by Heather

I have written many confessions over the years. Some funny, some porn-like, some heart breaking and some filled with love.

I find it hard to write about you. Not because there's nothing to tell, but because deep down, I'm afraid one day, I won't be able to be yours anymore. I'm afraid that the deeper you'll get under my skin, the more you'll see things that will make you back off.

I know you are not like that. I feel that you are not like that. You are full of love, you always have been. You have never judged me, never hurt me, you have been nothing but wonderful.

You know me like no other. You get me. You understand me. You see what I need, when I feel completely lost. You teach me, about me. For me, what we have, is intense. There's not a day that goes by where you don't make me smile or laugh out loud. You are an amazing human being.

I am often frightened that I'm not good enough. I'm scared that I don't give you enough attention, that I don't give you what you need and that in the end that's what's going to make you walk away.

But you won't walk away. You have made that clear. You are not like the others. You have always been here and I need you to know how much that means to me. You mean the world to me. You make me incredibly happy and I wish I had all the words to tell you how happy I am that we're together.

I wish I had all the proper words to express just how exactly I feel about you. But I have no words. So, for lack of better words..

Thank you. I love you.

No more creepy voices! I am tomato-ing the shit out of creepy voices.

The Reward By Anonymous

I was not long in the world of D/s when my Miss decided I needed to have my horizons... broadened. In the giddy time we'd been together I'd seen many things and experienced things which I thought fictitious or simply hyperbole. She had dug deep into my secret needs, listened intently to my every shameful desire... And from them selected for me a reward I thought I'd never experience.

We were at the club that weekend. A well-appointed private home with an amiable host. And I was a bundle of jangling nerves as I waited for the surprise I'd been promised. I had been good. Ever so good. Done every little thing my Miss asked and more. I had abandoned my self, my sense and my reason to her. I was her creature. And her creature, she said, was to have a treat.

After what felt like eons of the usual social fencing, I was shown into a room by my Miss. In it was one of her dear friends, and her two boys. It was a beautiful room with hardwood floors, and light airy decorations and a hint of vanilla in the air, mixing with my Miss' perfume.

I was stripped bare, my heart pounding, not knowing why there were others present for this. Was I to be humiliated, to confess my bases kinks? I felt my knees shake, as my Miss hovered at my ear.

"This is for you, my silly cow" she said...her breath warming my ear and causing my every hair to rise. And she led me to the boys, and they took me between them. Their hard bodies pressing me close, flattening my breasts and ass as their erections dented my belly and pressed between my cheeks.

My heart pounded. I'd only told her once. And I knew them, but did not KNOW them. I knew their Miss but did not trust her. But... I trusted mine. And as fear and arousal fought within me she whispered again. "Your little fantasy has become mine... I want to see how you cope".

And their hands took my shoulders and their lips pressed against my skin and, perhaps at the behest of their Miss, their hips began to grind into me, making my heart leap and race, as my hands sought distractedly and confusedly for the right thing to do. The right touch, the right action. But I couldn't think. Their breath on my skin, and their erections, their fingers on my breasts... I had to surrender. To the sensations, to their hands, to my own hunger, and to the deep tingle that was making their every move a spreading shiver through my body.

Before long the awkward press of bodies resolved itself. My miss guided me to straddle one and... he slipped so easily into me. So smoothly. The cry from my lips was unavoidable as I felt my pussy fill. She remarked at how much I must want this, how wet I must be, what a fucking whore I clearly am... And It washed into me. Inflaming me until I couldn't bear to open my eyes. There was too too much to feel, to hear, to smell. My Miss was always right.

And then the second boy came... Heralded by my Miss' fingers smearing my rosebud with lube as she had so many times before. He was not gentle, and I stiffened and spasmed several times as he shoved his cock into my ass, the sting of it making my eyes water... and then ... I was there.

I remember the moment It crystallized for me. Perhaps it was only a second. The moment when I knew I was stuffed full, two cocks lying along each other deep within me... throbbing, their owner's bodies pulsing and heaving with breath... Oh it hurt. Oh it was wonderful. Oh my god what was I doing? Oh what a fucking whore I was. A whore beneath her eyes. Beneath her friend's eyes. My Miss was so right... always right. I was a fucking slut. And here I was, suspended in Elysium made of cock...

And then, the moment broke. They began to move... And I lose track of my story.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Shameful Secrets by Kerry

Submitted by submissive, Kerry Otoole

When I was a teenager I went to visit at my Aunt's two or three times a year. My cousin was a year or so younger than me. She was real bitchy! She'd never miss a chance to mock me or make fun of me but, for some reason, I never tried to fight back. I knew that, if we had a fight, my Aunt would take her side.

One day I found myself home alone and I went to explore my cousin's room. Her panties were in the upper right hand drawer and I found them right away. They were the sheerest, and silkiest, and whitest panties that I had ever seen.

I zipped down, took out my dick, and started to do a masturbation. I stood there, in front of her mirror, rubbing my stiff little thing against the silky nylon. It's exciting to do it in a girl's room! Her bed, her clothes, her pictures! There was a picture of her class: boys and girls both: I played with my weenie right in front of the picture and I imagined they were all looking at me.

I had to hurry: what if my Aunt came home and caught me? So I grabbed some Kleenex and, kissing the pure sweet panties, I brought myself off.

The next year I discovered the laundry hamper in the bathroom. Wow! The ones in the laundry were somehow more interesting than the ones in her bureau. Sometimes there would be two or three pairs, all different styles and materials. I noticed once in a while the panties would be damp and have a very very special smell; this seemed to happen when she'd been on a sleepover with one of her girlfriends. I was safe in the bathroom! I could lock myself in, stand in front of the mirror, and take my time as I wanked myself off

I never thought of trying on the panties. But I couldn't help but imagine what would happen if I got caught. Scarey! Would my Aunt make me put them on, and maybe walk around in them in front of my cousin and her friends?

I was jealous of the way my cousin played with her girlfriends. Always whispering and laughing and touching each other. She loved to make fun of me in front of her friends. She'd tease me and say that I was always playing with me "little thingy". It was very embarrassing but there was nothing I could do about it.

I was fascinated because girls like to go to the bathroom together. If you get close to the door you can hear them giggling and sometimes you hear the tinkle sound. I wished I could be in there with them or, at least, to peek in and watch what they were doing.

I never did get caught: was I lucky? But I sure learned something! When I was older, and I was bewitched be an assertive Lady, I was ready. It is a privilege to serve a Lady and I know that I must always do my best to please her.

I Am The Domme Without The Boy by Anonymous

So many things occupy my life, and the desire to change them all to suit me, occupies my mind for days without sleep. Its hard for a woman like me to admit to any struggle for control. Control comes naturally to me. Vanilla ladies call it "showing leadership skills". Some Men call it "bossy". My mother calls it "willfull".

Knowing myself better than that, I am totally unsatisfied with these descriptions. These categories and boxes that everyone I know seem obsessed with stuffing me into smell like death to me.
How does one label themself? A good friend of mine who happens to be a well known Sociology Professor tells me that "People ARE the truths they live by".

Here is what I know to be truth:

"All war is based on deception. Attack where the enemy is unprepared, be where he does not expect you."

-Sun Tzu (The Art of War)

The world is full of lies. Most of us pick our way through life carefully avoiding the confrontation dishonesty brings. Others get caught up in it, believe what they want to, or make up ones of their own to fill the gaps. Half truths or the "White" variety, it makes no difference. Some of us will not rest until we have met each of them head on, and torn them utterly to the ground. I dominate those lies. I am in this box.

"Serenity, is learning to happily participate in the suffering of the world"


Life is difficult. Anyone who says its not hard to make rent and hold down a job and have a life and try to love is either a certified genius or a few meters short of a full dash. I learned this early. When you become as jaded by the masses as I am you begin to wonder if the world holds any wonder or joy. You begin to doubt your importance and if you will eventually leave the planet without making any lasting contribution. Will the world even know you were here? Probably not. In the grand scheme of the universe, I refuse to be saddened by the fact that I am inconsequential. I dominate that sadness. I am in this box.

"I did it my way"


Whose rules do we live by? Gods? Our mothers? Strange how some seem to think they are one in the same. Do I obey rules because I believe in them? The rules that have exception rarely bend the way they need them to, the safety net that should umbrella us all only covers about half. I make my own and apply them when I choose. If they don't work I change them. I am authority, and I hold no respect for it. I am in this box.

"Those ruby slippers look like they pinch like a motherfucker, girl."

-Ru Paul

Beauty will get you far, as far as OZ even. But beauty combined with attitude will get you a contract with M.A.C. cosmetics and your own Bravo T.V. show. A couture closet and a mouth like a sailor. Whiskey bottles tucked neatly away in my Hermes bag. My 13 piercings all hold diamonds. I am in this box.

And here I am, a Domme without a boy. Too busy for someone who needs my time. Too proud to admit I need one too. Unable to explain who I am and what I want. Unsurprised when they shy away, one after the other, back onto the grass. I imagine they must be thinking something like " I don't even KNOW where to begin pleasing THAT woman." And yet I'm happy, mostly satisfied by everything around me. It must be so, for I wouldn't allow it any other way. I am in this box.

Good Morning by Anonymous

Good morning my Love,
I just check my diary before I jump in the shower ... wishing I could
have you with me... wishing I could take you into the shower, the
water warm and slightly stinging *ahh!* on our skin...

Reaching for the scented shower gel, pouring it into one hand and
starting to clean you Mistress, starting at your feet, feeling the
water cascade down over my back, massaging between each toe and along
the soles of your feet.

Moving up, firmly massaging your calves, the backs of your knees, the
fronts, your thighs, my hands roving and cleansing over your buttocks,
fingers delving briefly between your cheeks, touching you momentarily,
smiling as I do so.

Moving up over your belly, your lower back, reaching your breasts and
pushing them up and together,biting my lower lip as I feel blood rush
into my cock, making me hard, but not wanting you to touch me, wanting
only to cleanse you, to pleasure you, Mistress...

Finishing the soaping of your skin by stroking and massaging down each
arm,knowing I have not yet completed my task....

Taking the shower head, spraying it over your body, moving slowly
downwards, watching the bubbles and suds wash down your body, leaving
you slick and glistening.

Now, Mistress, I take my wet razor (it is powered too, so vibrates
slightly), and my special shaving gel, I kneel at your feet once more,
gazing up at you with a faint smile on my lips. "Mistress, would you
open your legs slightly for me please?" I ask; You smile down at me
and wordlessly open them a little so I may gain access.

Putting shaving gel onto my fingers, I gently massage into your pubic
area, ensuring none of the little hairs are missed. Taking my razor,
switching it on, I press it to the sensitive skin around your sex, and
begin to remove all of the hairs, continuing until, when I run my
fingers over you, it feels smooth to the touch.

Taking the shower head, covering your most sensitive parts with my
fingers, rinsing the shaving gel away... but.. Mistress, I don't feel
my fingers are sensitive enough, not sensitive enough to be certain
you are completely smooth..... So, I bow my head towards you, kissing
around your sex, licking gently the freshly shaved skin with my

Licking all around, outside your pussy, to the very edge of your
labia; pushing your legs wider apart, feeling you lean against the
glass of the shower enclosure, pushing your hips out to me. My hands
on you now, touching your lips, open them as if opening the petals of
a flower, inhaling deeply the faint musky perfume of your body -
Licking - You Mistress..... Licking you until I feel your own juices
flowing and allowing me to taste and swallow you..... aah!

"Mistress? I - I need to cleanse your anus too, would you turn around
for me please?"

Chuckling to yourself, you do turn, leaning gently against the
enclosure, your legs straight, feet apart, I gasp now as I realize
what I am about to do, as I do each time I am presented with this

Placing my hands on your cheeks, pulling them apart gently. watching
the water cascade in rivulets between them; moving my mouth onto you,
licking you, worshipping you as I want to do, it's why I am here.....

My tongue delves against your anus, pressing and licking in little
circles around you, pushing... wanting to be inside, wanting in fact
to fuck your ass with my tongue Mistress...My hands holding you, one
moving under so I can thrust two fingers inside your soaking cunt,
fucking you with them, pushing them in up to the knuckle as I lick and
cleanse your sweet anus... ahh! Baby...

Moving more urgently, tongue moving in and out rapidly, fingers
jamming inside you, feeling your body tense, your breath catch in your
throat as your orgasm takes you higher, then... ohhhh! Mistress!
Feeling your legs weaken, I hold you, lifting you and taking you to
the bed, covering you with towels, drying your body, kissing you all
over as I dry you, laying down, next to you, my hard, wet cock pressed
against you... holding you close...

I Love You, Mistress...


Your Slave, Your Slut...

Erotic Fantasy by Vittore

Submitted by: Vittore Orsini

Through the darkness of the room, their gazes casted towards the door, the flicker of light faintly tracing the wooden floor. the click of heels, raising their anticipation, as a shadow appears over the distant, line of light. agony, ensues as the door is opened with calm and ease, a small cheeky smile meeting their lifting heads, as their bodies remain bound to the bed. She approaches their naked frames with a delicate glide while watching their muscles grow tense within their bindings. Thoughts, linger between them from hours of solititude, having been left after whispers of eroticism that taunted their skin. She learns towards Vittore, running her nails with a caressing brush behind his ear while speaking in a coy whisper. His chest, lifts with a collecting breath as the words drift through his mind. His heart, growing with each pattern her nail paints upon his skin as his shaft strains upon its cage.

Sensually, she lifts her tender frame from the edge of the bed, the strike of a long match echoing in their ears, the flickering dance of a candles flame floating on the maroon walls. With the room, subtly illuminated, she returns to the edge of the bed before leaning over vittore once more. She places the key within the lock of his chastity device, letting the chain pool on his lap as a coy giggle passes through her smile. the curls of his chest hair, lift with excitement as his body develops a hue of passion before watching her depart towards Paul. With a delicate hold, she cups pauls face within her hands before taking his lips in a lingering kiss that taunts the tip of his tongue. A short pause follows in the air while she moves with a glide across his cheek towards his ear for a low whisper.

Her hands, begin to move along his arms, towards his bindings, loosening each. She climes over him, her dress, resting above his pauls chastity cage as the echo of vittore's chastity lock being released fills the room. Vittore, feeling the pressure being released, gasps with a grunting moan before his bindings are loosened for him to crawl out of.

Leaving the bed, she finds her cushioned chair in the corner of the room, her eyes watching the dance of the flickering candles roam their naked skin as Vittore moves towards paul. His hands, weaving through paul's hair as he twists his palm into a tight knot that pulls paul towards himself with a passionate embrace that vibrates across his skin. Vittore's shaft, glistens as the head bulges against his skin while drawing himself to his knees and dragging pauls head down towards his cock. With a faint touch of pauls lips, he thrusts forward and tightens his fingers as a grunt of exhileration fills the room.

As he draws near, he pulls himself back, to the breaking suckle of pauls lips before moving his body along the creeking bed. Vittores hands, loosening their hold of paul's hair, moving towards his ankles to release their bindings with a passionate tear. He takes hold of his arms, tossing paul's frame along the bed, forcing his hands to land with a last grasp of balancing his falling frame onto the satin sheets while his eyes meet their Mistress gaze. Vittore's, tall frame, begins to lean over pauls back as his fingers sink within paul's hair to encourage his body into an arching bow while Vittore's voice runs across his shoulder “spread your knees apart, bitch boy” his own legs, encouraging them to drift with tapping pressure as his shaft runs across pauls naked thighs.

Reaching between their bodies, vittore's hand grasps his shaft, putting it at the edge of pauls behind before applying a pressure from the weight of his frame that sinks his cock into the welcoming depths of the pauls body. A grunt of passion, leaves vittore's lips mixed with a grunt of surprise, from pauls, as his shaft hugs the plastic cage, surrounding his cock. Vittore's body, leaning up in the room, his hips descending slowly towards Pauls while their gazes fix upon their Mistress.

Vittore's hands, clenching onto the flesh of paul's side's as he begins to balance paul's body while a rhythem develops to his thrusts. His voice, reaching out towards paul with an echo of animalistic passion, released from the constrains of his own cage “thrust back, thrust back bitch boy” the growl, growing towards the end of his words, bounce upon the walls as the bed springs to life from their joined bodies.

While Vittore's hair, hangs over his eyes, curled from the sweat of his passion, he looks towards his Mistress with a beseeching plead that carries an echo of his lustful state “please, may I have an orgasm Mistress” the temp of their bodies, looses barely a noticable beat as his fingers sink deeper into pauls sides. Her lingering contemplation, raising a blush across his skin as he tries to restrain himself while delving deeply into the lustful thrill of the boi before himself.

As pauls fingers dig into the satin sheets, his mixture of emotions muffled by the sheets of the bed, her voice replying in a coy tone “yes”. the rapid increase to the tempo of paul
s body being plunder, suddenly filled with a warm spurt of cum that flows freely...Vittore's frame, leaning over Pauls back, his teeth biting in his shoulder with a faint marking forming upon his skin as his heavy breath floats past his lips. Their gazes, lifting as his shaft subsides towards their Mistress. Each, leaving the bed to her curling gesture, crawling towards her feet at either side to find their collars attached to a metal chain that leads to the armrest of her chair. The tip of her shoe, resting upon pauls caged shaft and vittores semi-erect shaft, applying pressure to both that leaves their muscles tense to her whims.

Reaching down, her hands wrap around either of their chins, as a smile plays across her lips while she whispers in a low tone “blow out the candles”

Poem by Russell

Ah… yes
Touch me there
Push aside my hair
And run your sweet lips
Down the nape of my neck
Like you did
That time sitting on the dock overlooking the lake.

Move closer
Touch me… there
your fingers caressing
the outer curve of
my breasts
like you did
that time
as we sat in the restaurant,   enjoying one of our first meals

And… further
Touch me there
Your Wicked fingers
teasing me, making me tremble
Sliding softly over your silky skin, along your hip and so slowly downward.
To my molten core
Just like you did.
That first time I came
In your arms intertwined on sweat soaked sheets

Ah, yes
Touch me… there

John's Long Journey Into Night Part 8 by Doc Nolan

                    John’s Long Journey into Night – Part Eight
Synopsis of Previous Parts:
John, recently divorced, goes to his high school reunion, and meets an aggressive former classmate, Leonore, who – it turns out – is at the center of a circle of female domme friends.   He discovers to his discomfort that his supposedly ‘chance meeting’ with Lenore has been everything but.  It was engineered by his ex-wife Margaret. Leonore explains one of her several motives for accepting Margaret’s ‘challenge’:  “I don’t give a crap about you actually -- but I thought you might bring a novel adventure into my life”. John now knows his purpose….  He is driven to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, by Lenore – but only after she has locked him up tight, putting the key to his ‘parts’ on her wrist.  There they meet Laura – who Leonore describes with a grin as ‘a good friend – and a sadist!”

John  stared at the bowl of dog food Laura had served him.  He was already kneeling, but he realized the laughing women – Laura and his new ‘boss’ Leonore – were waiting for him to entertain them.  He hesitated.

“It’s dinner time, Fido,” said Leonore, giggling.  Laura immediately picked up on the hint.  Placing her tiny hand on his neck, she forced it down – and once his face was over the bowl – placed her small left foot on his neck.  His face ended up mashed into the dog food.  “Oh, my, Laura.  You haven’t lost your knack, have you!” Laura had almost immediately released John from the pressure of her foot, so his face was a few inches over the malodorous mush.
Laura finally spoke.  “Good.  He didn’t whine when I did that.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have brought him here if I’d thought he would.  His ex-wife filled me in on him, so I was pretty sure he’d knuckle under.  So far he has.”  Leonore paused.  “You two have fun.  I’m gonna take a nap.  Oh, Laura…. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

Laura smiled broadly.  “You mean like Larry?”

Leonore said, “I think I may get him to ‘Larry-level’, Laura – but remember that took several months.  You will have to wait a bit for anything that extreme….. But I trust you to know where to stop today.  Later, kids…”

John sensed Laura over him as Leonore left the room.  He couldn’t help think of the provolone, Gruyere and salami on the table – far above him.  He also couldn’t help thinking of Laura’s curves and hidden places, though he’d never seen them.  The imagination is a powerful motor.

Laura spoke. “I am impressed, John.  Or Fido.  Or whatever I choose to call you.  In any event, you seem to have enough sense not to raise your head from that bowl….. I think I’ll call you Fido, same as Leonore does.  Nod if you have heard me.”

John nodded.  He suspected – no, he knew – he should be very careful to please Miss Laura.

“Did Leonore tell you I’m a sadistic bitch and that I  love to tease and edge?”  John nodded.  There was a silence.
“She told me she was going to fit you with a cage on your privates.  I see she did.  Your frustration is my fuel, dog boy.  In case I’m not being clear -- I could give a shit if you get off on what I’m gonna do to you while Leonore’s asleep.”

You see, boy….”  She paused.  “It’s all about me!”

“Actually it’s all about me and Leonore….”

Out of the corner of his eye, John could see one of Miss Laura’s delicate feet.  It was neatly pedicured with a delicate tracery of flowers painted onto the nail of her big toe.  Red on pink.  She had gold rings encircling the second and the pinky toes.  John so wished he could touch his tongue to her foot.

“Oh, bitch boy, did I tell you I’m a mind reader?”  John knew his surreptitious glance had been noticed.  Too late did he realize there was a full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

“May I get up, please, Miss Laura?” he asked, wondering if he should have.

“Fuck no!” she shot back.  Silence.  “I want to make you cry first.  Besides, you haven’t eaten dinner.”  She laughed.  “You and I are going to eat first.  While you’re finishing your slop, I want you to imagine me eating from my table – with your eyes down.  And…. I want you to get ready for ‘later’, too.”   John nodded.

“You fucking idiot,” she added.  “You have no idea what I have planned for you after we dine.”  She laughed again and John could hear her moving away toward the table.  He wondered when Leonore would return.  He was frightened.  Excited… but afraid.


Somehow John kept the dog food down.  He felt a wave of misplaced compassion for dogs condemned to eat ‘crap out of a can’.   He heard Laura eating – and then he heard her heading for the kitchen; she must have finished.  As the moments ticked by he wondered why she was so long there.  More minutes ticked by.

Then he saw her feet.   Both of them.  Right in front of his face.  She kicked the empty bowl viciously and it skittered across the hard maple flooring, making a clang as it hit the baseboard at the end of its journey.  “Later I’ll have you wash the dishes, you pathetic fuck.  Do you hear?”  John nodded vigorously!

His mind snapped back to her comment before ‘diner’: What had she meant by ‘later… what I have planned for you”?  At the instant the thought crossed his mind, a searing pain hit his upper left buttock.  She giggled.
“Pain!  I love to watch men in pain, Fido.  It’s my obsession!  And after having a nice light meal and watching you humiliate yourself, it’s even better!”  John felt another stroke – harder yet -- on the other buttock; he involuntarily flinched. Laura said – in a voice stronger than he’d imagined the tiny girl could master: “STAY!”   He held himself as immobile as he could.  It took a lot of willpower not to respond to her assault.

“Now John, or whatever the fuck your name is, I’m gonna beat your ass with this yardstick until either I get off or until my arms get tired.”  She didn’t sound as if she were kidding.

She then added, “It’s SOOO hot that Leonore has your ‘fun parts’ in that cage, boy.  I love that you can’t get it out of there.  And the key on her wrist is a hoot.  You are fucking trapped!  And you are my toy for the day!”  Laura increased the pace of the blows, raining them down faster and faster.  John noticed he could hear her breathing; it seemed faster and faster too.  Not to mention louder and closer.  He also could smell her -- clean and perfumed, but with an underlying odor that he knew well: female lust.

He thought, “She IS a sadist!”  What really shocked him most was that he liked that idea.  Somehow – with every blow she landed on his increasingly tender backside – he felt as if he were making her happy.  It was something he’d missed in the last years of Margaret.  Margaret was a destroyer and had torn his life down with glee and selfish unconcern.  This was different.  Laura was getting off.  That made it different.  It made it meaningful.  John realized with a start that even turning on this sadistic woman made him feel virile.  His cock, locked up tight, couldn’t express how he felt, but his mind soared.  He felt as if he’d been drinking some incredible elixir or smoking some unknown weed.
He was being used to satisfy this pervert’s lust.  And it felt good!

His reverie ended prematurely.

“Damn, Laura, you are NOISY!”  Leonore’s voice sounded more amused than annoyed.  But Laura had stopped the strokes of the yardstick.  John missed the pain.

“I’m very impressed, Leonore!” said Laura.  “I’ve been whacking away at this fool’s butt and he hasn't bitched or whined or even said one fucking word.  And I’ve been laying it on him HARD!”
Leonore laughed, and then said, “Would I give you a third rate guy to take your frustrations out on?  Have I ever?”

John realized then that he was only one in a parade of males that had passed this route before.  He was humbled.  But only for a second.  Then he realized he had been selected and presented to Laura as part of a select elite.  He had a responsibility.  His job was only beginning.  His function was to delight.  And he was proud that he had – so far – apparently delivered.  John, taking care to hide his face, still facing down, let a smile cross it.

This time his face was unnoticed and unremarked upon.  He felt very close to the two women.

                                                            (to be continued)