Saturday, July 26, 2014

Martha and David, A Couple Part 1 of 2 by Doc


"Now?  Or later?" asked David with a bit of a whine in his voice.

Martha didn't like the tone of voice.  She'd have to work on that...

"When you finish your coffee, Dave."

"I just finished it..." he replied.  Martha glared.  She then said, "Well, why are you still here, then?"  Dave quickly got up.  Martha relaxed and allowed herself a grin as he headed down the hall to the master bedroom suite.  'Goodie,' she thought.  Some women would have thought, 'A typical guy, etc, etc.' but Martha didn't fall into that category of woman.  To her each male was special.  And she picked this one.  He was hers.  And nothing about him was typical.  She wouldn't allow that.  She demanded 'special' -- and she got it.  She got it because she wouldn't allow anything to get in the way of what she wanted.

Martha considered the fact that David hadn't said a word when she'd let him know she expected him to go to the bedroom.  He was making progress -- or more accurately, she was making progress.

Martha didn't want a man who had no opinions, will, ambition, or drives.  On the contrary!  She wanted -- very simply -- to have a complete man, but.... to ultimately use all those qualities.  And she would give him purpose in exchange for him being useful.  It was a perfectly businesslike relationship.  And it had taken a long time to find someone like Dave, a man who had lots of great qualities, but lacked a focus.  And Martha rather liked being that focus.

"Dave," she shouted down the hallway.  "After you take that shower, I want to find you in the closet.  You know exactly what I mean."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Martha smiled.  He wasn't a robot, but he knew the occasional use of that old-fashioned word 'ma'am' let HER know that HE understood 'the relationship' they both held dear.

She led, he followed, and while he was to do the supposed 'hard work' while she did the management (which they jokingly called 'the easy job') it was all indeed a joke.  Controlling Dave was no walk in the park; it was more like training a wild horse.

Martha sipped her coffee slowly.  No rush.  His job was to be patient.  Hers was.... well, really she didn't have a job.  Martha chuckled. 'I love this relationship,' she thought, mentally getting a teensy-weensy surge of pleasure.

Martha was wearing her silk robe.  She enjoyed the feel of the fabric.  Under the robe she wore a pair of lace panties, and a matching bra -- a very expensive but very flattering outfit, she thought.  They were a set with the robe.  Martha got up, walked down the hallway, and entered the bedroom.  The closet door was closed and no light came out from under the door.  Dave was undoubtedly in there since she didn't see him either in her bed or in the bathroom.  She smiled.

"Are you facing the wall, in there," she asked.  A muffled voice simply said, "Yes, I am."

"Good!  I'll call for you when I need you."  She rather liked the idea of leaving her boy-toy parked in a dark closet... on call.

She peeked under the bed and pulled out an aluminum case. It contained her other toys: a Hitachi wand, a short crop, a paddle, a thin cane, some fleece-lined cuffs, a set of clover clamps, and seven or eight other items.  She never had wanted an extensive collection of 'tools'.  Her attitude was that these things were simply 'force-multipliers' and that how she used them was the point.  Her imagination and her audacity were critical -- and all the paraphernalia were subordinate.

In a strange way, that was exactly how she thought of Dave.  It gave her the shivers... in a good way.

Most of Martha's friends had no idea as to how she approached her 'relationship' with Dave.  A few suspected she was 'the boss' and not him.  None of them suspected how overpoweringly 'in charge' she really was.  She chuckled to herself.  It was a pity she couldn't afford to let a few of them in on the secret.  Martha smiled.  He was her property. And the others would have to find their own ways of satisfying their sundry needs.  'Not my problem,' she thought with a grin.

"Ma'am," came a voice from the closet. "Do you need anything."

Martha reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a control unit.  She punched a button. Out of the closet came a yelp.

"Yes, Dave!  I need you to shut the fuck up unless spoken to!"  Now THAT was a rush!  Martha didn't know which was better: that he'd asked -- out of turn -- if she needed anything, or the fact that it had given her an excuse to be a bitch and shock his privates.  Both were very, very hot!

'I'm so glad he's not a wimp,' she thought. 'His bad behavior is such a great excuse for me to be cruel, selfish, and just plain bad',' she thought.  'What good is a doormat.  I like them feisty!"

Martha decided she could use a few moments of stimulation and she pulled out the Hitachi wand.  Now there was a question of HER own self-discipline and self-control.... It would be so easy to just keep on going and forget about Dave, letting the electrical device carry her to fulfillment.  Boring!!  Much more fun to keep the Hitachi as a supporting actor in a play where Dave would be near the top of the playbill.  (Martha knew that she would never let anyone be at the top of the playbill except herself. Me! Me! Me!)

"Dave, I'm playing with your rival.  He's a good fuck. How does that make you feel, Dave?".  Martha expected a reply.

"It makes me feel a bit insecure, ma'am.  I want to be the only thing that turns you on."

"Fucking fat chance, Dave!" she said cruelly.  "But I'll give you the good news.  I'm still planning to use you for the main act.  Hitachi-san is a boring bit actor, and I think you're much more capable of playing second fiddle to me. -- Dave, do you know who's the star in this play."

"You are," came the voice from the closet. Martha hit the button on the control unit -- just for the hell of it.  'Why not?,' she thought. 'It's fun to keep him off balance.'

"Did I say something wrong, Miss Martha?"

"No, I was just testing the control unit.  You aren't saying I don't have the right to just give you a random jolt for my own amusement, are you, Dave?"  She waited to see what he would say.

"No, ma'am... but.... if you want me to be rebellious, I'm feeling a lot of conflicting emotions, right now."

Martha was delighted!  She was pissing him off by being totally unpredictable.  Dave liked to know where he stood.  She liked it that he wasn't getting any pussy -- or any feeling of control over her whims.

'I've got him where I want to keep him.'  She smiled an angelic smile.  And she would use that smile to good effect later.

Martha let a few minutes go by.  She wondered if he was worried about the silence. 'I hope so.'  It was all she could do to keep from giggling out loud.

"Dave, I want you to come out of the closet now and to kneel at the foot of the bed."

Out came her husband.


The Captive Party VII by Lady Crissy

The Captive Part VII

"Yes Mistress, I understand." he responded, still trying to catch his breath, his voice a bit hoarse.

I slapped his cock again, harder, and he winced and whimpered, biting his lip.  "Only My boys get to call Me that, prey."

"Yes, Ma'am,"  he responded quickly, correcting himself.   Smart boy, I thought to Myself.

"As a matter of fact,"  I began, pulling his underwear slowly all the way down to his knees.  "I want it to be perfectly clear that release for you is not going to be allowed while you are My captive."  I stepped away from him next, and walked over to My pack, pulling out an object and then walked back to stand in front of him.  "I have something to help with that," I said, showing him the hard casing chastity device in My hand.  I held it up and caressed it gently with My fingers, and heard him groan, and that made Me laugh.

"But I have a small bit of a problem," I said in a very serious tone, looking at his cock, still hard, and certainly not able to fit in the device in this state.   I heard him swallow hard.   "Beacause you are such a whore, I can't put this on you."

"Now... what am I going to do with that..." I mused out loud.  I walked back to the pack and gathering a few things from it, laying the few items beside the pack, out of his view.  I stood and walked back to face My prey.  Pulling out the knife again, I smiled.   I saw his eyes go wide as I leaned down, sliding a hand down the length of his leg as I did so. Then I felt him flinch as I cut off the leg restraints. Slipping his underwear all the way off now that his legs were free, I stood and gave him a moment to stretch his leg muscles.

I smiled, and he met My smile with a wane one of his own.   I walked back and picked up items beside the pack, a bottle of lube and a large vibe.  I turned and approached him, watching his breathing quicken as his cock twitch in anticipation.   I moved even closer and wrapped My arms around him, pressing close, and felt his hardness rub against Me.   I looked up into his eyes as I put some of the lube on the dildo and slid it slowly between his cheeks, pressing it firm to his anus.

He moaned, feeling the lubed vibe pressing against his hole.  "Open wide," I said, smiling as I pressed it inside him and firmly using pressure, penetrated him slowly.  His eyes closed and his breathing quickened, wrists pulling at the restraints, more from the intensity of the sensatiion than trying to escape. If there was anything that My boy had come to desire as well as to need, was for Me to penetrate him, and take his ass pussy as deep as as firmly as I wished.  I eased it into him, pressing it in inch by inch, watching and enjoying his excitement and arousal push him close to the edge quickly.

"Such a wanton whore.."  I breathed against his ear, stepping closer and pressing My body hard against him, My other hand gripped his collar firmly. I heard an intake of breath as I jerked his collar, this demonstration of ownership a familiar signal that I expected total submission.  I firmly pushed the dildo the rest of the way in, and laughed softly, feeling his body shudder against My own, the whimper from his lips desperate but content at the same time to be used.  So close, so very deliciously close.

Pausing, I let him squirm, impaled, unable to move with satisfaction so close, but not in his power to achieve. He opened his eyes then, and I could see in them that he was in that sweet state, slipping from the greater world, his mind focusing on this moment, these sensations only, trusting Me to take him where I wanted in the way that I wanted.  The past and future no longer important or considered, all that mattered was being Mine and fulfilling My desires.  In these moments he never felt more "Mine" and I enjoyed the electric pulse of sexual excitement that rushed through Me.

At the same time I wanted the moment to last, and yet to move to the next part of the plan.  I decided on something in between...

End of Part VII

I Want You by Lady Chance

 I have decided - I want you -
Not in that - "come hold my hand while we walk along the  beach"
Sort of way -

I want you in the dark -
Between delicacy and rudeness, well mannered restraint and a bold swap of spit and bodily fluids...  Clawing, biting, the desperate desire for skin on skin as you invade my senses.

I want you deep -
the way it feels when we our humor meets up at the corner of inappropriate street and fucked up avenue.  Taking the forbidden and making it our own, finding new meanings to what's cast aside and reviled.

I want your vulnerability -
I want to pry your hands away from all your tender, soft spots that you don't show anyone... So I can poke and prod at them until you make that throaty, pleading noise that you do.

I want your strength -
Stand beside me through the flood, the storm, through the earth shattering drama filled ups and downs of relationship and love... struggle against that backsliding inevitability of failure, falling apart, falling away from each other and hold on to me.

I want your dreams -
I want to be your subconscious thought, the one you feel, want and need while you sleep. I want your body to call for me, ache for me, I want you to wake shivering, in want of my warmth.

I want your thoughts -
I want you to share with me your opinions, your feelings and all the things that cross your brilliant, unsullied mind.  Let me delve into your depths and come up gasping for air only to dive once again, to recover that pearl which is you, and wear it proudly in the hollow of my neck, next to my pulse.

I want your music -
Give me that which drives your soul, the passion of your life, the music that you strum my heartstrings to... I want your melody and your chorus, surround me with your sound and harmony

Anonymous Confession For Fawna

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

For Lady Fawna by Sillien

Her laughter was infectious. It often had this little snort at the end that was adorable. When she was around there was an energy in the room.

I only knew Miss Fawna for a year or so, but she made you feel like you had known her for a lot longer. She was very open. Sincere. You couldn't help but get to know her. She caught me once in the hunt and was disgruntled to discover that she couldn't keep me because I was already owned. The things she would say about me left me feeling flattered and humbled that I had earned the respect of such a lovely lady.

I wish I had gotten to know more of her.

-Always the Tin Man to Miss Fawna's Dorothy,

Fawna & Tawnawna by Lady Tanarra

It's me... Tawnawna, your silly Sister from another MIster.

I know you will hear these words as they are being spoken, despite both of us not being physically present at the time of this reading.

My selfish heart is deeply saddened that you checked out so early, but I thank you for all the very memorable moments we shared in SL during the short time we had together.

You inspired me with your amazing talent and humor.
You made me laugh so hard, I cried.
(And possibly even peed a little ;)
We shared intimate spiritual moments.
We shared excitement, joy, pain, and sorrow.
Thank you for your trust, your confidence, and friendship.
By the way, I still need your help to finish writing "Dirty Talk: The Musical" :)

You are, and always have been so beautiful to me, despite my emphatic protests over 'nasty blondes'.

Whether we were Late Night Dancing at the D... Harmonizing to 'Royals' at Chaos Lost... Trolling Bondage Ranch...  I learned a lot from you.

You taught me that 'OG' wasn't a teenage drama like '90210', nor that it meant 'Olde Skool Gangsta'...
I shall cherish all of our special moments.

Fawna, may Diana protect you, and bring you the peaceful rest you deserve as you continue your journey among the stars.

Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again.
Ciao bella,
Strega "Princess" Tanarra ♥

Confession For Fawna by Lady Chance

Fawna, Tanarra, and Chacha...

For a while, it was the three of us.  The power of three.
I was the quiet one, Tanarra the sweet one, and Fawna was the energy, the driving force.  We would laugh until tears, we would ache with tears, she understood me on a level that I know not many others could get.

I watched her videos on youtube... The first one being "Royals"... that song we harmonized to... and I sobbed, I want her back.  I will always want her back.  She lived with me at Chaos Lost, and she will always have a place there, her "Tower of Isolation" just as she left it.

Your chair is there, Fawna.  I still feel you there.

I loved you, and love you still.


Chance "ChaCha" Chaotic Monday

For Fawna By Miss Eva

Fawna rolled in to Dominion the way a tidal wave meets the shore, hitting us full on with her humour, sexiness (think of those tight, schoolteacher skirts) and of course her wit and intelligence.  I was impressed by her to say the least, and immediately hoped she'd "stick". This was the kind of woman I wanted at Dominion!  She's our kind of people!  And for a time, she did stick. Fawna was one of our stars, those big personalities who command the courtyard.  She told funny stories and teased us, dazzling the subs (and dommes!) who orbited around her.  She hosted our Confessions event for a few months and even joined us on staff for a time.  But it didn't last and I am not entirely sure why.  I couldn't get close to Fawna. I can't even say we were friends.  I tried but I failed where I know some of you succeeded.  And I'm glad some of you succeeded.  I'm glad she had people here with whom she was close and that she found some friendship and support.  I wish I was among you but it didn't happen between us.  So part of what I feel as I remember Fawna today is regret.  Regret over a missed opportunity. And also a question:  why couldn't we hang on to her?

When someone is as talented and charismatic as Fawna, you wonder how much they are pursued and appreciated for their entertainment value.  I've been told that was a reoccurring issue for Fawna, who had charms and talent in spades.  I wonder, did she feel valued for herself? Or for how she could light up and energize a room or entertain us? Did she only feel appreciated for what she could do for Dominion?  I don't know.  I'll never know.. I can only hope Fawna knew on some level, there was and remains, some sincere affection and love for her here amongst our community.

The other day I watched some of Fawna's audition tapes on Youtube.  I knew this voice and I knew this woman, but I mostly didn't know her at all.  In Second Life, people often disappear and you never see them again. I've actually mourned people who continue perfectly happy and healthy lives, but who have "passed on from SL".  Watching Fawna, or Amy, on Youtube, it hit home that this woman was really gone, and gone everywhere. And I am sorry. I am sorry, sorry, sorry for it. Sorry that this person had only half a life. Sorry I never got to know her more.  And I feel regret that she wandered away from the Dominion.  Not only for our sake, but for hers as well. Because I think we had a lot to offer each other.

I'll end this musing on Fawna Lemon by remembering her stellar performance as Dorothy in our production of The Wizard Of Oz. Yes - she stole the show, a professional amongst enthusiastic amateurs, I don't think she had to try very hard.  I remember praising her after the show and Fawna was so nonchalant about it. I felt like my praise never touched her.  Maybe it was because with her huge talent, she was used to accolades.  Or maybe she was just oblivious to how much I appreciated her. I hope in some small way, she heard and felt that praise, which wasn't simply for her voice or her performance but for her as a person.

I didn't know Fawna, or Amy well.  But anyone could see she was something special.  I regret the missed opportunities. For me, for us, but mostly for her.

Goodbye Fawna. Goodbye Amy.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

End Where It Starts by Anonymous

Her eyes pierced me, Impaling me upon her attention, Pinned under her scrutinisation, every single motion exactly as she wanted it.
The frustratingly slow ticking of the metronome cut through the air.
Even my heart beats synchronized as tensed muscles fought to articulately carry out her wishes.
I bare foot wandered the knife edge at her whim, and she reveled in my difficulty.
My lips, bitten.
My breath held and shuddered.
My resolve shattered and reformed, over, and over, every time I dared to move.
I could see her desire, her demure expression of pure want, while muttering "Faster".
She knew, I couldn't take it if I went faster.
But that's the point, to push me passed what I can take.
I make the most guttural noises of strain, pleasure, need and desperation.
I was holding back a tidal wave, with a dam of paper.
It wasn't going to last.
The only word I could speak with any coherence, was "Please".
Over, I muttered, stuttered, moaned and muttered out.
Right when I thought I was going to die, she spoke up "Stop!"
Hands off.
I just got to watch as my body betrayed me.
Muscular contractions left me drooling.
A slow stream of excitement escaped me.
Robbing me of satisfaction.
Leaving me with just what I had started with.

Fingerpaints by Anonymous

It's her hand that pains my mortal form,
Marking canvas in her wake,
Forest fires from the storm,
Burning breath from the drake,
Carving lines into my skin,
Autumn reds, blues and blacks,
Tormenting me draws out the grin,
Squeezes out my vocal crack,
It's not discomfort that makes me squirm,
Arousal from helplessness,
Her motivation I always learn,
This expresses her tenderness,
I see her search for simple speech,
Plain and simple Ecstasy,
Not a loud and desperate screech
But just to say "Please hurt me?"
A Mix of love, passion and need,
Drives her to ravish this possession,
For in that moment I want to bleed,
Show I submit, with that concession.

Fireworks by Andy


I confess I used to never care for them much. I seemed to be the only one around me who did not care. Couples sitting, side by side, staring up at the night sky as brightly colored explosions danced in the air.  Forced to sit there, watch in boredom. All I could think about was when it was over.

Then one night that all changed for me.

I had been invited by a new friend of mine to go to the park for the festival. I thought sure, why not, I don't get out much. The drive was fun, we talked and laughed, everything seemed fine.

So many people at the park, I was afraid of getting lost, but he kept by me close, and we never drifted apart. Games and rides, we went on them all, laughing, playing, we had a ball. Even my depression, which seemed to pop up at times, was was pummeled down by how happy I was.

As the sky got dark, I let out a sigh. The day was almost over, and I would be back home by myself. But as this sad thought ran through my mind, he grabbed my hand, smiled brightly and said: "Lets go watch the fireworks."  I was hesitant at first, not sure what to say. I didn't want to disappoint, so I went with him anyway. As we lay on a blanket, side by side, a warm feeling grew inside.

The first rocket exploded in the air. My eyes twitched and glimmered when I looked up. Why did it look so different than usual? More and more started to go off, the sky filling up with colors. It was then that I noted his hand on mine, gripping me tight. I turned to him, and he was already looking at me. "Thank you for bringing me with you," was all I could say.

We stared into each others eyes, but I guess you could say I was still looking at the fireworks.

From that day on, fireworks meant so much more to me. It symbolized the fireworks inside myself on that night I fell in love.

How To Do It Better by Sillien

     The faintest glimmer of the light being turned on came through his thick, black blindfold. A combination of earplugs and muffs deafened him to the point where he couldn’t hear the footsteps coming towards him, but his bare feet could feel them through the hardwood floor. He had been left there, sitting in this chair with his hands tied behind his back, for long enough that he could not tell how long it had been.

     She plopped down in his lap. The sensation of her silky-smooth stockings brushing against his thighs was only intensified by the deprivation of his eyes and ears. His hearing came rushing back to him as she tore the muffs off of his head and yanked out the plugs, a tidal wave of noise of crashing into him that was disconcerting to say the least. He could tell she had those opera-length gloves on as she ran her fingers along his cheek. She reached around and started to untie him while leaning in, putting her lips right up to his ear.

     “I wanted to give you a beautiful gift not two months ago, Jeremy. Do you remember that?”

     He stammered and stuttered. “N n no, Mistress. I feel gifted every day you’re around.”

     There were more words on the way, but her laughing cut him short. “Oh, Jeremy! Warn me before you start kissing my ass and I’ll at least pull my panties down!” She winked, forgetting for just a moment that he couldn’t see it. “No, my sweet, I’m talking about something very special, and I’m very disappointed in you for not remembering. We’re talking about the night I tried to suck you off.”

    He did remember that night. Jeremy didn’t like getting oral sex to begin with, and she tried to have fun with it like she always did. It wasn’t something he wanted to relive. Was she going to do it again? Please, no, he thought.

     “ ‘Ow, stop biting! Oh, please stop bending it like that! My balls!’ Do you remember all of that, sweetie?” He nodded in response. “Good, I’m glad it’s all coming back to you now. I have to confess, I am very very sorry that I don’t know how to suck a dick to your liking. I really and truly am.” Jeremy was detecting sarcasm. “I need you to help me, hon.”

     She tore the blindfold off of him and he saw a man sitting on the loveseat across the room. He was naked. She hopped off of him sank into the couch right next to the man.

     “Get on your knees and crawl your ass over here, boy.” He gulped. “Now.”

     Jeremy dropped to the floor and crawled its length until his head was no more than a couple of feet from her. “I just want to say, again, how terribly sorry I am about that incident. Now I need you to show me how to suck a dick properly, because I obviously,” she put a lot of emphasis on that word, mocking him, “have no earthly idea what I’m doing when I take a man into my mouth. But you know exactly what to do, don’t you Jeremy!” She bounced up and down on the cushion excitedly. Up to this point she had acted playfully, but that disappeared now. Her eyes locked with his and the smile vanished off of that face. “Show me how it’s done, slave. He’d better enjoy it, too. Show me.”

     He closed his eyes and leaned in. The man’s cock was semi-erect. Jeremy’s lips drew closer until they placed a kiss on the tip of it, bringing a smile back to her face. He dragged his tongue along the stranger’s sack, feeling every crack and crevice and the saltiness of the sweat along them. He took them in his mouth and ran his fingers along the shaft. It began to stiffen.

     It was ready after a minute of this attention, standing tall and ready to penetrate. Jeremy licked the length of it a few times before finally taking the cock into his mouth. His lips moved up and down, one hand grasped the root of the shaft while the other cupped the tender balls. The man was moaning before long and Jeremy could feel a pair of hands on the back of his head.

     Now the hands were pulling in and the man’s hips were lifting up. Jeremy’s mouth was becoming a soft, damp hole for the man to fuck. Things were starting to get messy as his slobber started to run down the shaft, but the man started to push and pull more forcefully. He started to groan and grunt and his fingers squeezed Jeremy’s skull until that moment when he finally felt something hitting the back of his throat. It was a stream of thick saltiness that he spent several seconds dumping into the slave’s mouth, emptying himself into it until he collapsed into a heap of deep breaths.

     “Let me see it, boy,” she commanded. Jeremy tilted his head back and she peered in to see the pool of cum that he had collected. “Okay, you’re going to hold that in there for a while. You know what I find REALLY interesting about this whole thing, my boy?” He gently shook his head. He winced as she jabbed the toe of her high-heeled shoe into his own fully-erect cock. He could feel it wobble back and forth as she kept giving it little kicks. “Look at you. My god, you liked this, didn’t you, my little cock-whore? Swallow.”

     That taste takes it time getting out of your mouth. It lingers there, reminding you of what you’ve taken in, your own little stain, sticking with you. The man got up and left and she stretched out on the couch. “I learned a LOT from you, Jeremy. You have been very helpful tonight and I appreciate it. I’ve learned the BEST way to suck a cock: have you do it.” She smiled.

The End.

Trembling On The Edge by Gia

Trembling On The Edge:

Femininity has never been my forte. Jeans, leggings, torn tights, t-shirts and hoodies take up a majority of my closest. I do wear dresses for work, but that’s because I need to present myself as a professional. I'm that woman walking down the hall making the clacking noise with her heels on the linoleum floor.


When I’m in jeans I’m free to be vulgar, loud, quirky, and well … me. Dresses mean prim and proper, legs crossed…revealing nothing. Although the breeze that glides between the open spaces of fabric make my heart race. Mother nature teasing.

“Naughty girl.
You’re not supposed to do that in a dress.”
But oh it feels so -shamefully- good.

After a long day I slip on an over-sized t-shirt, that barely covers my rear. Exhausted from the day that lays in my wake, I plop myself down on my bed, that’s delicately covered with a soft blanket. I stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about the day, and shut my heavy eyelids in reverie.  

I open my eyes once more, the fan swirling above me and I prop myself up on my elbows. Glancing down at my exposed black panties. I exhale anticipating the task that’s to be done before I enter the dream realm.

It’s going to be as if I’m starving and will be only allowed a lick.
Leaving me craving more.
…I already know….

With that thought and both thumbs on either side of my hips, I slowly drag my panties down my legs. Kicking them to the floor I position myself back down, flesh on soft fabric and vibrator in hand.

I lift and separate my knees, arching my back in anticipation. The vibration starts and I move it slowly to my pussy lips, biting my bottom lip hard. Distraction. The sensations engulf my body and I lose my breath.

I. Can’t. Breathe.

My muscles tighten but minds at ease.  Although I must actively remind myself to not lose focus. Soft whimpers grow into louder groans as the vibrations taunt my clit. A clit that’s now plump, like a ripe cherry.

My mouth parted, letting out gasps of air whenever my lungs will allow. My hips thrust, wanting  satiation.  My heart racing and trembling in pleasure, so many so goosebumps arise on my flesh.

My head and back arching further, hips thrusting faster and I hold my breath in this last moment. Only to remember that I can’t go any further. I remove the pleasurable vibrations from myself and close my knees quickly, so I don’t continue, placing my palm over my warm throbbing clit. Trying to calm it.


My abdominal muscles still tight, I exhale in defeat and roll onto my side. I simply lay there, palm still pressed against my sex and I shut my eyes in fatigue. I count the heartbeats that pulse through my clit, until my entire body’s calm.

Yet I still crave.

The Party Part 2 by Lady Lobbie

He stops within what he hopes is a foot of her, he drops to his knees “Do you think you can serve us this way?” She asks and he can hear the slight smile I her voice.

 “I will, as always, try to please you Mistress.”
He can hear a few voices talking in the room. He hopes his Mistress and her guests find his appearance pleasing.

  “Very well, go to the kitchen and fix the drinks; you will find a list of what drinks we want. You may remove the blindfold whenever you are not in this room but you must wear it with in the walls of the room, do you understand?”

He nods, “Yes Mistress, I shall go and fetch your drinks.” He once again makes his way across the room, pushing the door which he knows leads to the kitchen. As the door swings shut behind him, he pulls off the blindfold and blinks as he gets used to the lighting in the kitchen. He moves to the side where he sees a list neatly written in his Mistress' writing. He makes the drinks, humming happily to himself. The drinks made, he puts them on to the tray, pulls the blindfold back in place, and makes his way back to the living room. He pushes the door with his ass, glad that it’s a 2 way door.

“Over here.” He hears his Mistress' voice by the windows so he slowly makes his way over to her, carefully trying to remember the room.

“STOP!” She shouts, and he jumps a little and stops where he is. The drinks move a little on the tray from the sudden movement and he hears a gasp from the assembled guests. “I didn’t want you to walk into the table.” She tells him. He feels her take the tray from his hands.” Lay face down on the table,”  she instructs. He reaches out and feels a large wooden table that’s about waist high and climbs on, lying face down and turning his head so it faces the room, shifting so he is as comfortable as he can be.  He hears her tap a glass “Let the party start!”

He feels different objects being placed on his body. Some are ice cold others are warm. He realizes that it's plates of food being placed on to him. Looks like the party has a living table! He smiles.

People brush his skin as they reach to get the food, sometimes stuff is dropped on him and he feels fingertips plucking it from his naked skin. The CD player is playing classical pieces  low in the background and the sounds of the group chatting are also low - he can’t quite catch what is being said. Sometimes he hears his Mistress’s laugh - she sounds happy, and he thinks possibly nervous, which scares him. What could his Mistress possibly have to be nervous about? Clink Clink goes the glass again.

“I hope you all enjoyed the food and have eaten all you can,” he hears his Mistress ask, and he hears several yeses from the guests. He then feels the plates being cleared form his body.

"You may rise,” his Mistress tells him, so he slowly eases himself from the table. “Here,” she commands from what sounds like the centre of the room. He moves across to her. Just before he reaches the centre of the room, he stubs his toe.“For fuck sake,” he mutters under his breath, hoping she’s not close enough to hear him. He knows how much she hates swearing.

He reaches out his hands to feel what he bumped into but before he touches it, a cane comes down over the back of his hand. “Ouch! One. Thank you, Mistress,”  he says as she has taught him. “That is not to be touched by you. Well not by your hands anyway,” she tells him in a matter-of-fact way. “What stands here is a pillory, I am going to bind this sub here, and for our entertainment he is going to be struck. When you arrived, you each took two numbers from some bags. The red number is the order and the green is the implement. You may strike the sub up to 10 times each; I want some left for myself.” He realizes she is now addressing the room, and he hears some shuffling and some excited chatter.

She grabs his arms, hoisting him up,  then places them into the pillory. She then forces his head down before lowering the top into place. He hears a click as he is firmly locked in.

“Ah, looks like you are first, and you picked the wooden spoon. You, boy, have no need to count until I take my turn, is that clear?”  she ask him. “Yes, Mistress.”

 He winces as the spoon lands a blow on his ass, the first person only gives him five, but he guesses he won’t be as lucky for all the guests. What worries him is that he is sure he heard some male voices. He has never been spanked by a guy before. His spanking goes on, as different items are used different amounts, different strength and speeds, His ass is so sore tears are streaming down his face.

“Ok I hope you have all had your turn and have enjoyed using this sub here to get your frustrations out on. Now it is my turn.”  He feels a whip snake across his back. He gulps as the whip hisses through the air and lands crack square on his sore ass. “Two, thank you, Mistress.” He counts as she carries on whipping him all the way up to 20.

He feels her rub something into his back and ass. He sighs, feeling the soothing feeling on his stinging hot skin. The pillory is unlocked and he stands. He hears her click her fingers, he hears what he guesses is the pillory being moved out of the way.

  “On your knees,” she commands. He drops to his knees. The blindfold is removed from his eyes and his Mistress appears in his view. She is in the most amazing gown. It is white, with purple highlights, and in her hand is a collar. “We have been together for a year sub, and today is the day that you stop being my sub and you become mine.” The room erupts into applause and he bursts into tears.

See Stars by Gia

Seeing Stars

Beads of perspiration collect on delicate flesh
Flesh that’s excreting longing.

It drips.

Salty wetness on sensitive taste buds.

Leaving me thirsty for more.
Hydrating only to dehydrate.

The relentless sun beating down
Turning fair skin red
Warm to the touch

Cool finger tips caressing.
A soothing sting.

Inch by inch
Fingers move downward.

Cheeks turning flushed.
Natural bodily redness.

With a pull and a tug
Ass exposed


Blue on white.
The embodied patriot

Sunburned, red.

The excitement of the unknown.
The desire of wanting to know.

Sun deprived, white

The humility of my position
The reverence in which I hold you

Bruised, blue

The tranquility I feel when I’m around you.
The growing trust.

So lead the way, into the dark unknown and I shall follow.
.The willing patriot.

Unafraid of the distracting explosions in the sky.

Because once the bombs stop
And the smoke clears
Stars remain.

I Married An Electrical Engineer by Anonymous

Jane was on the cellphone, chatting with her best friend Sally…. “I’m SOOOO glad I got married to an electrical engineer, Sally!  Wow!”

“So, the bridegroom is working out OK,” kidded Sally.  She had wondered about Jane and Bob.  In fact, she thought of them as ‘the odd couple’.   Bob was so quiet she wondered what an outgoing person like Jane saw in him.  The marriage had been an even bigger surprise than the fact they’d dated… especially since they’d gone from first date to the altar in less than six months!

Actually, Sally had been a bit miffed by the rapid fire engagement and marriage.  She and Jane had been on ‘intimate terms’ since college, and – frankly – Sally always figured Jane as someone more into women than men.  Sharing her rather adventurous friend with casual liaisons was part of having her as a ‘friend’.  The fun part was cruising bars together and picking up girls (usually young and dumb ones!).  But now they were ‘women’ and Sally had always wanted a family.  She now had one.  And Jim was a dependable guy.  And Jane was now ‘a married woman’…

Life being life, Sally didn't think much about Jane’s comment on the phone until she had made similar comments three or four times.  “Gee, so he’s an electrical engineer.  That’s nice, but…. What’s the big deal?” she thought.

She asked her husband about Bob.  “What does an electrical engineer do, Jim? I mean really…”

“Well, some of them design circuits; others work for power companies and spec out power grids; some do industrial applications; it’s a wide field….”

And again, Sally thought about Jim’s rather vague comments and then promptly forgot them.  Life moved in again.  Lots to do.  Not enough time to get it all done…

It was two weeks later when Jane phoned Sally.  “Jim’s out of town, right?”

“Yes, the annual state meeting of the CPA group….”

“I want you to come over tonight!  I’ve been thinking about you and well…. Bob’s handy around the house, but…. Well, I would really like to… errr, see you.  Besides, I’ve been keeping some secrets from you and I want to… well… can you come over???”

Sally hesitated for a second.  But then she thought of Jane’s incredible butt, and her big breasts, and all the possibilities.  She thought, “I deserve a break from being a drudge.  And Jim’s gone – probably having fun while I’m back here dusting and vacuuming.”

“OK… I’m game!  Should I bring a bottle of Merlot to put you in ‘a mood’?  Or aren't you interested in ‘that’?
“Heck, girl.  Of course I want you to bring it.  What do you think I’m inviting you over for?  To talk about recipes from The Food Channel?”   She chuckled.  “I’ve got a few new things to show you, too!”

The last comment puzzled Sally.   Jane NEVER kept secrets.  In fact, she loved to explore ‘the outer limits’ and – to tell the truth – had always been an exhibitionist, voyeur, take-charge lady.  Well, maybe not a lady…..

Sally rang the doorbell at 7:00 sharp, bottle in hand.  Jane came to the door in a slightly revealing – but not shocking – basic black cocktail dress.

“So what’s the mystery, Jane?”, asked Sally.

She got a grin.

“Do you remember what I told you about Bob?”  Sally drew a blank.  What was she talking about?  And then a feeling of panic gripped her… “Bob isn't here, is he?, she asked as her stomach tightened up.

“Relax, girl.  In fact he is.  But he’s in the other room.  And – no – he’s not going to do or say anything that might make you uncomfortable…”

That did NOT sound very reassuring, thought Sally!  How the heck could she feel comfortable getting intimate with Jane knowing her HUSBAND was in the other room!?

Nonetheless, when Jane and Sally went into the bedroom there was no sign of Bob – and gradually the two women began to relax as they chatted on the love-seat next to the bed.  The Merlot helped.  So did the ceiling speakers playing ‘New Age’ music.

Finally, Sally asked ‘The Question’.  “So Bob is OK with me being here with you?  Does he know?”

“Of course, silly!  He knew a month after I met him!”

“Oh!”  That was a relief!

“So where is Bob?  You said he’s here in the house, but I haven’t heard a peep from him”.
“Oh, that’s part of our arrangement….”


“Did I tell you he’s an electrical engineer?”  Now what the hell did THAT have to do with anything, thought Sally.

“I think I told you I had a secret to tell you about Bob…”  No, she said she had a secret, but no, she didn’t say it had anything about it having to do with Bob!

“You’ve always been a bit easy to shock, Sally.  I don’t want to freak you out…”

“Well, yes, I’m easily shocked, but I am your friend – so you shocking me is NOT anything new.  I’m here, right?  I mean I’m sure I can handle anything after some of your stunts.”

“Well, we’ll see….  Turn on that TV on the wall, Sally.  It’s a closed circuit TV – just inside the house.”
Sally flicked the remote.

Now there WAS a shocker!!!!!!!

It was Bob…. On an exercise bike…. Peddling like mad…. Live!

“What the fuck!,” gasped Sally.

“Bob’s an electrical engineer!”

“Yes?  So what?”

“Well, we worked out an arrangement.   He has totally wired the bedroom with cameras, closed circuit TV, and LED lighting.  And all the sockets are wired into a battery-backup closed system.”

“I don’t understand….”

“My vibrator is electric powered….”


“Well, Bob is the generator!  He spends as many hours a day as it takes to generate the necessary electricity.  And he also keeps the batteries all ‘topped up’.”

“OMG… that’s so perverted!”  Sally couldn't help giggling as she said so… “How do you keep him going?”

“Oh, most of it’s just that he’s in love with me….”

“Most of it?”

“Yeah, but I also have a shock collar wrapped around his ‘nether regions’ – and I provide him with ‘additional motivation’ from time to time…”

“He puts up with that?!!!”

“Nope.  He gets off on it,” Jane said with a broad smile on her face.  “I’m very glad I got married to an electrical engineer!”

“Now I understand,” said Sally.  “Could you get Bob to put out a bit more current for us?  These lights are a bit dim, and I’d like to see you in a bit brighter glow.”   As the lights came up, Jane pushed her friend into the soft recesses of the pillows on the bed.

She didn't mention to Jane that Bob was looking very fit…. Maybe Jim could use an ‘exercise program’, too.   Hmmmmm….

Doppleganger by Anonymous

"You have four days" she demanded.
After forty minutes the confession was finished.
Within four hours she had read it
And within four days she was online.

He wanted her to say she loved it, that she was glad she had met a slut like him, that they would have all kinds of nasty fun together.
She didn't.
She only called him a whore.
A word that he had on a previous day been excited by, but today it felt clinical, a fact, a statement that invited only shame.

He was disappointed, shamed and completely paralysed by ambivalence.
Is this the reality he sought? Was shaming part of the appeal?

Suddenly, as if sensing his internal struggle she spoke with a tone that commanded his attention
"Stop thinking slut and bend over"

Suddenly he realised the truth, this wasn't about him, his view wasn't even a consideration, his thoughts unimportant.
Merely byproducts of a higher being's direction, one that could be discarded or forgotten in the blink of an eye.

This wasn't for him, he thought, he wasn't that person, courage grew inside him and as he stared in to the lens of the cam and prepared his exit statement, he faltered, and all that came out was "Yes Miss" and he bent over and embraced his shame…..‏