Sunday, August 31, 2014

Why Me? Why Now? by Daxie

                        by Daxie

I met her innocently enough through a mutual friends party.  I saw her at the other side of the room.  I couldn't tell if she was looking at me or a friend of mine that I was talking to.  But she stared, uninhibited, not caring that it was an obvious mental undressing.  My friends removed themselves from the conversation, moving on to other friends as I went to take a walk outside.

As I started my walk I could hear steps behind me.  I lit a cigarette before I headed out on the sidewalk and up walks the girl from the other side of the room.  I introduced myself to her making small talk.  I asked if she would like to walk with me.

She took a long glance at my face, then up and down my body, which is not something I’m used to.  I never considered myself much of a sexy guy or even a good looking guy.  I’m rather thin, that typically nerdy look.  She seemed to be enjoying what she saw but said nothing to me.  She just nodded, turned and started walking down the sidewalk.

Stunned at the mixed signals that seemed to be going on, and being shy and nervous around women, I hurried to catch up.  I walked slightly behind her as I didn't quite know where she was headed or if she even wanted me walking with her.  For all I knew she was walking home.  She didn't say a word for what seemed like forever, though in actuality it was probably five minutes or so.

“So, John, what are you looking for here?” asked Jessica.

Ummm.  I was taken off guard by the blunt question and wondered if this was a trap question.

“Um, not really looking for anything in particular, Jessica.  Just wanted to take a walk and step away from the party for a few minutes.” I said

“Really, you didn't want me to come along with you?  You asked if I cared to join you. Why?”she said

Again stunned at the line of questioning from Jessica, as we barely knew each other, feeling rather uneasy now I tried thinking back and seeing what went on -- and if I'd missed something.

“I not sure what you mean Jessica.  Just figured to be polite and see if you wanted to walk and talk.”  I stumbled over the words as they come out shaky.

“I’ll make this clear once, John, so there is no misunderstandings, Did you not see me watching you with your friends?  I know you were looking back some as well.  Did you like what you saw? Did you not want me to come out with you?” Jessica spoke sharply

“I didn't think you were looking at me, Jessica.  I figured you were looking at one of my friends.  Of course I looked over at you; you are hard to miss in a crowd -- I said very nervously -- "beautiful as you are.”

Jessica stopped suddenly causing me to almost bump into her.  She turned and slapped me hard across the face.  In utter shock my hands went up defensively -- thinking another strike was on its way.  What came next was truly puzzling as Jessica started to laugh and giggle.  I drop my hands and looked out at her with a dazed puzzled look which seemed to just fuel the laughter more.

“You know you are a rather pathetic man don’t you?”she asked

I start to answer, then stopped as her hand raised as if to slap again.

“That isn't a question for you to answer, pet.  What I want to know is, how do you want to go through life from this point forward?.  Do you want to lead yourself and bumble around invisible to every attractive female and go home to your empty house to pleasure yourself?” She paused for a moment as a sly grin lit up her face.  “Or, do you want to follow someone who can give you purpose, show you to the world in ways you can only imagine.  Show you that you are not invisible and that you are sexy; I can see that in you even looking at you like this, though you are not terribly sexy now.  You could be. I know you could.  So which direction do you want to follow?”

“I want to be seen, Jessica, but I don’t know what you see. I am not sexy, never have been.  I’m still a virgin” I say as I start to lower my eyes to the sidewalk

*Smack* another strike from Jessica to the other side of the face brought my eyes back up and into a defensive position.  As Jessica laughed harder now.

“Of course you are a virgin, you silly boy.  You think so little of yourself that how could a woman even consider you as anything but worthless?  You should consider yourself lucky I’m even telling you this; call it pity on my part.  Though I don’t think of it as pity, I see how you handle yourself and I’ve watched you interact with friends and strangers.  You are definitely shy and noticeably nervous, yet you still try gain a woman's attention in your own charming ways.  You have a very slim but sexy body.  Nerdy but,  if I’m right, it is you nerdy shy types that are open to kinks.  And maybe I’ll be lucky enough that you don’t have a pitifully small package.” Jessica started to laugh again as I blushed.  I looked down again when she mentioned my equipment.

“I don’t know what to say, Jessica…”

“That’s Miss Jessica or Mistress Jessica now, John.  Don’t forget it”she interrupted.

“Yes, Miss Jessica. I can’t comment on my cock and its size; I consider it average I suppose.  As for kinks, never done anything obviously but I do admit I do like kinky porn”.

The words coming out of my mouth sounded foreign to me.  Something had happened in the last 30 minutes that I would never have guessed possible or say I even wanted.  "Why me?" I thought this to myself.  "What does she see in me that is worth anything?  Why now?  I don’t know how this started.  Looking back it was a regular party with friends I’ve known for years.  Why me?  Why now?"

                                                                                        (to be continued)

- Daxie

The Domme's Prayer by Samina


                                by Samina


Raise your eyes, take me in
inhale as you see.
A collar circles, mine to own
what do you know of me?

I approach, your eyes dilate,
scent me on the air.
You ask me "please", my fingers tease
and knot within your hair.

Do not weep, tears may not fall
requirements are as rules.
Push the limit, another sting
I'll apply the tools.

This Goddess walks in constant truth
my lips speak your belief.
And if, perhaps, I deem it so
you may have some relief.

Show me your shame, a heart to heal
to punish is to love.
Pleasure, pain, our needs the same
fit as hand in iron glove.

                                by Samina


Raise your eyes, take me in
inhale as you see.
A collar circles, mine to own
what do you know of me?

I approach, your eyes dilate,
scent me on the air.
You ask me "please", my fingers tease
and knot within your hair.

Do not weep, tears may not fall
requirements are as rules.
Push the limit, another sting
I'll apply the tools.

This Goddess walks in constant truth
my lips speak your belief.
And if, perhaps, I deem it so
you may have some relief.

Show me your shame, a heart to heal
to punish is to love.
Pleasure, pain, our needs the same
fit as hand in iron glove.

Sightless by Elric

                                    by Elric

I am kneeling naked on the floor, waiting for You. You enter the room without saying a word and walk around slowly to stand behind me.  I can smell Your perfume and its fragrance makes my senses reel. After a few seconds of feeling You behind me, hearing You breathing slowly, i feel Your lips touch the back of my neck as you kiss me softly...

Then, in one fluid motion, i feel a hood being put over my head and suddenly i am blind. You draw the string tight so that the hood is caught under my chin.  My breathing quickens as my mind tries to catch up to where my senses are at this moment. Seeing nothing, i hear You crouch behind me and i hear the metallic rattle of chains. I feel You take my hands, which are already behind me.  You begin to wrap a metal chain around and around, binding my hands tightly. I can feel my heart racing in my chest in anticipation of the unknown. For the first time, i hear Your voice as You whisper softly to me..."Stand, slut".

My cock jerks, hearing You speak to me this way and i stand, awkwardly, trying to keep my balance. You attach Your leash to my collar and give it a small tug - just enough that i can feel it test my balance. You speak again in a soft whisper..."Come...follow me".

I can feel You leading me out of O/our room and into the wide corridor. The castle walls echo the sounds of Your heels, my padding feet and the clinking chain around my wrists. The only other sounds i hear are the night sounds from the woods outside and the wind. You lead me down stairs, through narrow echoing passages, up again, turning left and right frequently, giving me no clue as to where i am. i have walked these halls many times before but tonight i am lost and totally dependent on You to guide me. After what must have been at least ten minutes, You command me "Stop - kneel where you are, my fuck toy".

The space we are in has less echo than before and i feel a carpet under my feet. The room feels warm and i can hear the crackle of a fire but i am shivering inside, not knowing what will happen next. i hear You walk away from me - this must be a large room - until Your heels click on the stone flags on the other side of the room. I hear You start to speak softly.  I can't hear the words properly. Then, i hear another voice in the room -- another female voice -- answering You softly, just beyond range of my hearing.  My heart and my breathing are racing again now as i hear two sets of heels approaching me, and then stopping a short distance away.  I hear You say "Undress me, girl".

Though i can't see or move my hands to lift my hood, i hear the sound of Your clothing being unfastened and falling to the floor. From the sound, i can tell that Your boots are still on. You speak again..."You know what to do, girl....".

I hear the sound of two bodies falling gently to the floor nearby and the soft moans of anticipated pleasure coming from two pairs of lips. I hear the sound of soft kissing followed by sighs of satisfaction from You -- from You, Mistress. This unknown girl is kissing You all over like i do -- drawing the sighs and moans from You like i do. You are becoming aroused;  i can tell by the rise of Your voice. Then i hear You cry out, followed by the sound of a tongue, lapping. I hear the girl moan as her own excitement builds. I can't see but i can imagine what She is doing to You, Mistress. My legs are shaking here on the floor and my cock is hard, jerking.  Under the hood i recognize the sound of fingers plunging into Your wet cunt:  a sound i know well. You cry out again, building up to a scream of lust as She brings You closer, closer to climax. As You continue to grunt and whimper in ecstasy, She pushes You over the edge and You scream, cumming hard. i hear the sound of You squirting into Her face and I hear the splatter of fluid on the floor. Some of it hits me on the chest and i gasp in shock.

After a while, the sounds of Your release become quieter and i hear another kiss, lips to lips. I hear feet approaching me again but the voices are now silent. I feel someone behind me and i smell perfume....but .not Yours! A shiver goes through my entire body in shock! A hand grips my hair, pulls me back into a sitting position, and then continues to force me down onto the floor until i am lying, face up, with my hands still chained behind me. Then, i feel someone sitting on my chest restricting my breathing. I feel two legs reaching forwards, past my head, and I smell the scent of pussy juice mixed with the unknown perfume entering my covered nostrils. I struggle to fill my lungs until i feel the body on my chest move forwards towards my head. It raises for an instant and then comes down over my face, covering my nose and my mouth. The hood pulls tight over me and i can't breathe. Struggling to draw breath, i wriggle but i am held still. Panic goes through my head as i feel the lack of oxygen for a few seconds. Then the body rises; i gasp a few quick mouthfuls of air before it comes down again. This continues, down, pause and up, and my whole body is shaking with excitement. I feel a hand reach down to my groin and start to stroke my cock, first slowly and then faster and harder. I reach the edge in no time and the hand stops before squeezing the head of my cock hard, painfully. I drop back away from the edge and try to grab another breath so that i don't pass out. The body rises a little and pauses; i feel a warm liquid drip onto my hood. The smell is strong and i know it is pee. Suddenly there is a deluge of hot pee over my face, soaking my hood and flowing back down over my neck and chest. I suck the liquid from the inside of the mask, drinking it down in a frenzy of bound lust. i cry out like a wild animal and suck in as much of the hot pee as i can before the flow slows and finally stops. The hand grips my cock starts to move again but i can no longer control myself. i am in a place so far away that the world has fallen away from beneath me. As the hand pumps my cock harder, i approach orgasm. i begin to grunt and whimper as i fall over the edge and then i spray my hot cum into the air, up and over my body in hot sticky drops.

A hand continues to hold my cock and another cradles my ball as i feel the weight lift off of my face. i begin to float back down to earth and my breathing and heartbeat start to return to normal. i hear footsteps in the distance and a door opens and closes. i am alone with this person who has taken me so high. Where has my Mistress gone? i begin to feel sad that She has left me in this way. Then, a hand gently cradles my head and lifts me to a sitting position. I feel someone behind me again unfastening the chains on my wrists.  I am given a towel to wipe myself down and dry my soaked body. The draw string of my hood is loosened and it is gently eased over and off my face. The light streams in and i can't see for the brightness. I am afraid to turn and find who is behind me. Then i hear a voice....."My dearest love..."

i turn to see my Mistress kneeling by me holding a strange bottle of perfume, giving it a small spray and bringing back memories of the shock i felt earlier. i sigh deeply in relief as She says "Do you think I would leave You to another and give Your fantasy away so freely?" .  She bends to kiss my lips and hold me in Her arms.

Elric

Apr 29 2012

My Mistress May I? by Samina

my Mistress may i


You've bound my elbows to my knees
Each ankle to each wrist
And then You told me "make Me come"
With no hands to assist
my Mistress may i come?

It took me ages to remove
Your panties with my teeth
Then as You sat across my face
i tongued what was beneath
my Mistress may i come?

As i worked You mauled my tits
And clamped my nipples tight
You pulled and twisted each of them
Each move You made so right
my Mistress may i come?

You slapped my pussy with a strap
With my long tongue in yours
You punish me so sweetly
Whenever You feel cause
my Mistress may i come?

Your fingernails upon my clit
You make me squeal in pain
i love the way you use my parts
Please hurt my clit again
my Mistress may i come?

my bum now gets its own desire
You beat and slap it so
You push Your fingers in its hole
i do so love You so
my Mistress may i come?

And now You use my pussy, wet
Your hand You plunge inside
And then You whisper "Yes my pet"
And take me for a ride
my Mistress i have come!!!

How Many? by Anonymous


                                        by Anonymous
                                       
"How many people have you slept with?" A simple question from a recreational deck of cards.

I bit my lip while my mind drifted back to my 'first' time.  Something I fondly referred to as T-E-O-T-W.  The end of the world.  Well, at the time it was a huge deal.  I was just 15.  He was 18.  Quite honestly, he was a loser.  A loser with a very big dick. We fucked like rabbits.  I remember sucking his cock for so long, and so hard, that I raised a huge blood blister on the roof of my mouth.  It was tender for a week.  I didn't love him, but I thought I did.  He helped me realize that I was a dominant female.  I was on top, literally, nearly every time we did it.  Missionary style made me feel smothered.  His sweaty body way too close.  I swear that one time he even pissed in my mouth during head.  I spit that shit all over him, called him a 'nasty fucker', slapped his face and threatened to never fuck him again.  From that point on, he would beg for it.  I liked him begging.  I would take him when I wanted, when I felt like it.  Luckily for that bastard I felt like it often.

I still hadn't answered the question.

My mind was racing, trying to recollect, in chronological order, the boys I had entertained myself with from that starting point.  Ryan, Louis, Scott, Adam, Kenny, Barry... I kept counting to myself... Mark, Robert, um... wait, there was someone prior to Mark... oh, Danny.  God, that boy was a mess.

"I'm running out of fingers and toes," I grimaced.

There is this special 'equation' that people joke about when you're single, perhaps you've heard of it.  The Law of Three.  They say, for every person a guy says he has slept with, you divide that amount by three for the true number.  So if he says three girls, then you know it's really one, if any at all. Boys believe in inflation.

For women, you multiply.  So, if she says, "Um, three," you know in reality it's nine.  No one wants to risk being called a tramp, slut, or whore, do they?

"27," I answered.  "Well, at least those are the ones that made a lasting impression."  I smiled.

Everyone around the table gawked, choked on their drink, or laughed nervously.  My number wasn't going to be the highest, was it?  The other players responded.  It was.

Well, what can I say?  I like sex.  It is what it is.  Am I ashamed?  No.  Am I proud.  Not really.  Do I plan to add to those numbers?  Most definitely.

I heard a story on talk radio yesterday, while I was driving to work, and the DJ was appalled that a 68-year-old woman was arrested for lewd public behavior after fucking, on an amphitheater stage, with her boyfriend (who was 21 years her junior) during a Summer music festival.  I wasn't appalled, I was turned on, thinking, "Hell-to-the-yeah!"  Granted, I'm much more of a voyeur than an exhibitionist, so my enthusiasm was sparked by that visual.

As a sensual, sexual, and sadistic Domme, yes, I like physical intimacy.  But I have always practiced SSC, long before I knew what that acronym meant.  Considering my sexual awakening coincided with the frightening announcement of AIDS, you would have thought that would have been a deterrent to my adventures and exploration.  But no.  I have been fortunate, and always err on the side of caution and responsible play.

So what is my real confession?  Sex is much more to me than just 'bumping uglies'.  More than just an act for procreation.  In fact, for me, it was never about that.  I am childless by choice and design.  No, sex, for me, is about connection.  About impulse.  About primal urges.  About raising energy and directing it for various purposes.  It is about pleasure.   It is about indulgence.  It is about ME.  What I want, when I want it, and who I want it with.  Though I have been in monogamous relationships, some for lengthy periods of time, I have a hard time with monogamy.  It feels very forced and unnatural.

"Oh wait... I just remembered a few more names, can I change my answer?" ;)

Fred and Janet and Sally and Robert by Doc

                            by Doc Nolan
                           
Fred stood in the corner, facing the wall.  Sally lay in bed – with Janet.  “How long do you plan to have him stand there?” said Janet.  “Dunno….” She replied.  “Until I’m good and ready to let him rejoin the human race.”  A silence ensued.  “I’m tired of him fucking up.”  Another silence lay on the threesome.  He didn't say a word.

“You are really pissed off,” commented Janet.  Sally just nodded.

The women began making love.  Fred could hear them but had been told not to turn around, so he didn't.  He could hear the clock on the wall, among other things.

Finally, ‘those noises’ stopped.  In a few seconds Janet said, “I’d better get home.  Robert will get upset if I’m here too long.”  Fred then heard the rustling of clothing.  She was getting dressed to go.  A few minutes later he heard both women leave and then (dimly) the final ‘goodbyes’ at the front door.

Sally did not return to the bedroom.  He heard her in the kitchen, most likely making coffee.  He dared not move.  He had no idea of what he’d done to deserve to be treated so badly.  None.  Still, Sally had made it clear that was irrelevant.  She had simply said, “I’m very disappointed in you.  You will stand in the corner until I’m good and ready to let you leave it.  Understood?”  He had nodded and gone to the corner.

He thought of the hundreds of times he had been sent to ‘time out’ over the endless years of his childhood.  This was nothing new.  In fact it was very very old.  He was tired of it.  “Go to the corner until you start acting like an adult!” he’d been told time and time again.

Now he *was* an adult – but it didn't matter.  Still…. ‘into the corner… and I mean now, mister!’  As always he didn't complain.  Fred didn't complain much about anything.  Not the weather.  Not the fact he had never been promoted at his firm.  Not that he did most of the housework.  Not that his wife preferred women to her husband.  What was the point of objecting, he mused.  Tomorrow is another day.

Indeed every day was ‘another day’.  Like links on a chain.

When Sally came back into the room, she shouted over to him:  “Still there?  Sucks to be you, doesn't it?”  He nodded.  It was.

“Did you ever take my car to be washed yesterday?”  He nodded, hoping that would earn him some points.  It was hard to tell, facing the wall.  She didn't say anything.  “And what about the vacuuming?”  Again he nodded.  More silence.

He heard her pick up the phone.   “Having fun, Janet?”  He couldn't make out the reply.  “That’s really hot!” was Sally’s next comment.  More mumbling.  And then Sally said, “Your husband has been quiet and hasn't caused me any problems.  You’re going to tell me more about how you married him --- after you finish with Robert.”

Sally then laughed at something Fred’s wife said on the phone.  She turned to him.  “I think you wife will be home in half an hour.  Maybe.  She seems to be very ‘engaged’ right now – with Robert!  Have fun, loser!”

Fred didn't say a word.  He knew better than to upset any of his wife’s girlfriends.  Especially the cruel ones.  Sally left the room.  He had no idea when she’d go to her home – and when his wife would return.  His job was to stand in the corner until told he could leave.

Facilitating by Lady Axelle

                        by Axelle Paramour

I watch as the hands of the clock rhythmically tick by, counting the small increments of time.

Forty two,
forty three,
forty four,
forty five,
forty six,
forty seven,
forty eight,
forty nine,
fifty.
Fifty one,
fifty two…

It’s here where I feel the first bit of resistance. This is not her first time, so she has managed to remain relatively calm 'til now. I tighten my grip on her hair and brace myself, leaning in a bit, using my body as leverage. I can imagine the burning in her chest has crept in, setting off those instinctual commands to her nervous system, releasing the chemicals one needs to fight for their life. But therein lies the rub, because what she stands to fight isn't an opponent, but herself.

On paper I’m a Dominant, but more than anything I consider myself a Facilitator. I help guide and lead my submissive through moments like this, these moments of panic and euphoria. These small brushes with death. She begins to violently shake her head under the water and buck against the restraints. I look to her hands, all splayed out and wiggling, like a dancing starfish. The thought makes me chuckle and I give her behind a swat.

There’s a certain point when one is being held underwater that the instinct to close your eyes fades away and you lids fly ajar. When I’m able, I like to position myself so I can witness this, even for the briefest of glances. And it comes. I watch as her face unclenches, her brows smooth, her eyes open so wide that they become the entirety of her face. This is always my favorite part: the part that lifts me from the mortal plain when I become transcendent.

That look of fear, of sheer and utter horror. I have to remind myself to breathe sometimes. When her vision finds mine there’s a flicker of stillness and I know she’s clawing at her will, trying desperately to please me. The effect only propels me upwards, the power becoming intoxicating. This only lasts so long before she loses out to that innate human desire to live. Her mouth opens and I hear the tell tale sound of bubbles rising to the surface, her fight begins to wean and her struggle becomes less.

Eighty nine,
ninety,
ninety one,
ninety two.

I look to her hands. I’m reminded they say that your heart is the size of your fist just then, because of how true it seems. Clenched this way, shuddering from the adrenaline, her hands look as if they could pump blood.

I pull on the harness that covers her chest, closing my eyes to savour the sound of her lungs gasping for air, it’s sharp and sudden intake. Her body teeters back over the side of the clawfoot tub as water cascades everywhere. Her ribs billow and collapse with breath as I carefully cut away at the ties. I run my fingers through her dripping hair as she coughs and spit up water, small coos and reassuring murmurs escaping from me.

When the room is hushed and our breathing becomes the same, I slip out of my heels and kneel across from her. Her eyes are open, but she doesn't see me, lost in her own serenity. The contentment painted across her face helps quell the rising fear in me; I scoot back a bit and lay my head in her lap anyway. She strokes my hair idly, knowing I need this small act of reassurance. We hold this space for far longer than the actual scene that has taken place.  We bask in our own little worlds. Separate, but together.

Cafe a la Steel by Anonymous


                            by Anonymous

I entered a favorite café; it was crowded -- just a normal Saturday. Here to get a brunch, a cheap and good alternative for good. As I entered the café I instantly noticed a lady that sat close to the entrance. She sat in a chair with a water glass in her hand. Red lipstick, and white pearls in her ears. She had a necklace with an item that looked like a small key on it.  I noticed she was wearing very high latex heels that made her knees a bit higher than normal as she sat in on the couch. All those signs...  A Domme? It was a sexy sight, (classic dress) and my imagination blew me away for a second. She smiled, like a lioness finding her prey.  I was sort of confused; she was unknown to me. I lined up in the queue for my coffee.  Since it was slowly moving forward I hesitated to stay in it, and I realized it was a better use of time to visit the restroom downstairs in the basement and then later to get back to the queue.  I looked for the sign for the toilet, and then headed for it.  As I came closer I saw the sign pointed to a staircase that led down to a basement. I walked down along a narrow corridor, and I found it, just around an upcoming corner. Opened its door and entered the it and shut the door close.   Did my peeing and zipped the pants close.

As I opened the door She, the Lady I saw inside the café, was standing right outside.  She blocked my way through the doorway.  She taller than me in her heels, looking down at me through sun glasses.

Suddenly I heard a gas noise, and my vision closed. All in pain my eyes started to flood in tears, and I backed into the rest room.

Heard her heels, how she entered, and the door was shut close. I staggered around, looking for the sink. She giggled.
"Stay, …...  you are mine."  The voice was very familiar to me. It made me stop, and listen to her.

"Lets us do this the easy way, or the hard way.  Just follow my instructions.

Heard a taser, and lights from it filled the room.

"Huh..."

"Don't forget 'Miss'."

"Who are you?"

"You know who I am. Don't forget Miss!"

"Miss"

"Good boy. Let us do this the easy way."

"I am here to lock you up. To show you the way.  I want you to follow."

"Why, Miss?"

"It is time, and I don't want to share."

"What do you mean?"

"Shut up.. Down on the floor!"

I looked up, she standing over me, close.  She pushed me on the chest.  I sat down on my knees on floor looked up.

"Good boy, so...... I will push you over on your back.  Pull down your pants, and lock your dirty little cock. If you get hard I taser you."

Shaking, and my eyes flooding, I was looking up at her. Watched her arm reaching for my chest and pushing me over.  I fell on my back, and felt the hard floor.

"Unbelt your pants and pull them down your knees."

"Yes, Miss."

I unbelted my leather belt and unbuttoned my pants. Lifted my back, and squirmed as I pushed down my pants.  And wiggled from my underpants.

"Argh...." I screamed out.  And felt a hot burning over my cock.

"What?.... Miss."

"Don't worry; it is just warm regular coffee, I don't want your cock to get hard. It will get locked up."

I squirmed in pain, caused by the heat.  She straddled  me, and sat down over my chest.

"So now some cold. I have had the chastity device stored in ice water in my hand bag.  Ready?"

Heard some water, and ice cubes smashing against the floor.  She pulled and fitted the chastity device over my cock, and secured it around my balls.,
A short metallic snap was heard. And then silence.

"Now you are safe, dirty slut."

"Yes, Miss"

"I will get back to you, in time. I will not take long. We need to accelerate this.  As you see, your cock is behind bars, and the key is around my neck."

"Why, Miss?"

"No 'why'.  You will get instructions.  Does it hurt?"

"My eyes, Miss?"

"No. Your cock."

"I am feeling it's cold -- and the head is hot from the coffee, Miss".

"Good; then it is all right. Now I will leave, so get yourself together and clean up the mess.  Use the sink to wash your eyes; they will be ok.   This is just the beginning."

"Yes, Miss."

"Lock the door as I leave."

I felt her release the pressure from my chest, and then heard her open the door and shut it closed.  I crawled on my knees to the door lock, grabbed the handle, and locked the door closed. Turned around, and sat against the door, looking up in blurred vision on the lamp.  My hand reaching for the cock.  I felt the steel, metal bars around it.  Higher up I felt a small pad-lock.   Gosh...  she had that key around her neck, really?

Guilty Pleasure Impromptu Confessions

His voice.  I love how it sounds when he's laughing, telling me a story.  I love it when he is sad and leaning on me for support... but I love it most when he's telling me he's hard for me, and only me... and how good it feels.  He moans... oh god he moans my name and tells me it's all for me... I can lap it up like a kitten with milk... all night.  Drinking up his sound, feeling him, experiencing him.  I over indulge.  He is my guilty, dirty pleasure.


My Guilty Pleasure.... is the smile that gently curls my lips when you say "yes, Miss."

It is the curious smile I get when you duck your head and smile in return.

It is the gleeful smile that I admit I get when you are nervous...

It is the smile that comes to me now... genuine for the first time in months... when it hasn't been genuine... in nearly 9 months...


What is your guilty pleasure?

My guilty pleasure is that I like candy., there is a candy shop nearby that I visit at times.

My guilty pleasure is also seamed full fashioned seamed garter stockings.
They look so hot, especially those that are black, or dark down.
Some has sort of a eye on the top. It is a pleasure to see such ones worn by a lady,
especially if they are hidden a bit.

I also find high heels, typical 5 inch heels, sexy. Not every one style, those with rounded, and a well rounded sole. Those that looks more natural and designed for a human foot.
It is something powerful with a woman that walks and wears heels.

Anonymous


My guilty pleasure in kink is rope, I love the feel of it on my skin, I love the way I start to almost feel instant euphoria when it is run across me to tie those wonderful knots. When it is over and they start to take the rope off it makes me feel sad.....like a friend has gone away!


Guilty pleasures:  Movies like 'Caveman', 'Pee Wee's Big Adventure', 'Home Alone', and 'Porky's', 'Leprashaun 4: In Space', and so on.


My guilty pleasure is Kylie Minogue!


Guilty pleasures, I have a few, at the moment one comes to the forefront of my mind. I'm guilty of coveting someone I can not have. I'm reduced to watching them from afar, such sweet torment.


My guilty pleasure is to sometimes act like a dumb bimbo and dress slutty in SL just to get attention from creepy guys.


My guilty pleasure is listening to the selfie song on repeat, bouncing through the living-room, mimicking the words, the actions and the duck-face poses every time she sings, "But first, let me take a selfie!" Awkward, but so satisfying.


I like to read books about teenagers, I like to watch movies about high school and stuff.

Romantic and stupid.


My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

Niki


Abba!



My guilty pleasure are bacon cheddar hot dogs from the gas station! 



Guilty pleasure?
/d on 4chan





Saturday, August 23, 2014

Impromptu Confessions: What's Your Favourite Kink?

Lady Crissy posed the question, "What's Your Favourite Kink?" at tonight's Confessions. Here's our answers...

I like to cut him... I want him to bleed... for me.  His essence, his life running down his skin, I touch my lips to it, kiss it.  Offering himself to me.  I will be lapping up his life like melted ice cream.  He's mine.  His life is mine.  He is my angel, and I'll be his downfall. 

Hmm, favorite Kink, such a difficult question or statement to answer.  
I really enjoy some of the unexpected, being enthralled by what my Mistress may think of next.  I love and enjoy bondage as it is coupled with Teasing and denial.  But so much of my arousal comes through strap on play with a touch of feminization.  And how can someone not like exhibitionism, being toyed with among friends and strangers.  My kinks are many with a few limits and each one is equally exciting, it's the knowledge of being able to fulfill a need to my Mistress and what arouses her at the time.

Pegging - the breathless squirming, the beautiful view of his gorgeous back, being on top of him, PINNING HIM in place.  It's complete ownership, control, I invade him and surround him and he is mine.

Tease and denial 

being blindfolded

...trampling.  

I love to, quite literally, walk all over a man with my bare feet or high heels.  I like to press my soles to his face, throat, chest, abdomen, and of course his cock or ass, while fully restrained and helpless.

I like everything from gentle padding to enthusiastic jumping and stomping.  Kicking his sides like you would check the tires on a car.

study of kinks

One of my favorite kinks is rope. I love being tight up, slowly and sensual, or more roughly. I love being suspended in uncomfortable positions. Completely surrendered to the Lady who binds me. Floating in the air, feeling the rope pressing into my skin. I love the feeling of rope on my body and the feeling afterwards, like a big hug you received and can still feel for a long time. I love how just slowly being tight up, I get this little drunk feeling in my head. I just really, love rope. 

David

Months ago I bought a beautiful strap on. It's has a lacy and velvet and purple harness and a purple cock. I saved and did tons of research and spoke to many people who already had strap on's. I wanted the perfect one for me. Why was I so adamant about my perfect strap on? I want to peg a boy, I still have not been able to do this. Sadly! It's at the very tip top of my kinky bucket list, but I am scared. I am scared because what if once I do it, I don't like it. What if all the build up in my head isn't what I really want? I want an anally trained boy, a clean boy and I will find him. This has to be checked off even if I try it and I end up stopping because it's not what I expect and just do other yummy dirty things, but I NEED to do this!!

[16:08] Crissy Viper: One of my favorites kinks is ......

Stripping my slave naked, one torturous layer at a time, stroking his skin softly and providing the opposite sensation of scratching with my long fingernails as I go.
Carefully placing the wrist cuffs on him, followed by ankle cuffs.  Placing a dildo gag on him as well as a blindfold and leading him to my lair.  Gently placing him in position then standing, straddled and hovering above his head as I lead long strokes of a crop over his thighs then lightly tapping them along the same lines already traced.  Increasing the smacks while leading them up to his balls, paying particular interest there with some light taps followed by flippant slaps back and forth over the length of his shaft.
Having tortured him long enough to extract my sadistic pleasure and swell my excitement for baser pleasure, lowering myself over the dildo gag and riding his face as long as it takes me to cum while stroking his chest and randomly pinching his nipples.
At least that's my favorite kink for this month anyway!

Sensory Play and Deprivation.

Removing your sight, speech or hearing leaving you deep inside your mind, alone, with nothing but the anticipation of the unknown. Perhaps, a soft gentle touch, a sharp unforgiving sting or being tightly bound, hooded and diminished into nothing more than a helpless play "thing" for my amusement. Are you nervous and feeling vulnerable? Are you afraid, but loving the taste of fear? Is your mind spinning in chaos and your body on fire?

Paine

Things Change by Doc



by Doc Nolan

She said, “I’m not feeling particularly sexual tonight.”
“Okay,” I replied.  She said nothing further.   She was the boss.
Not quite the end…  The next day she announced she had had a change of feeling.
“Today I’m in the mood.  I want to hurt you.  That would make me very hot!’
“Okay, I replied.  She said nothing further.  She was the boss.

THE NEXT DAY
“Did you like what I did to you last night?” she asked.  She waited for an answer.
“I liked the fact you seemed to enjoy yourself.”
“That’s not what I asked,” she commented, staring at me.
“Yes, Miss.”
“Good,” she replied.  “I think I’ll keep you on for awhile longer.”
I knew I was dispensable.  Things change.  Time goes by.
I simply said, “Yes, Miss.”
She smiled – and then left the room.  I had no idea when she might return.

LATER
As it turned out, she never did return.  I have no idea where she went or why.
Things change.

THE END

The Capture Part IX by Lady Crissy

The Captive - Part IX

I walked softly over to the bag again and withdrew a favorite from it.  My prey's back was to Me where I left him, his body leaning against the tree, still secured.  Walking back to him, I paused, letting My eyes travel up and down his body.  Appreciating and assessing his body fully and carefully, making mental notes for later so I could plan his next steps for his exercise program once we got back home.  Approaching him, I ran the flogger gently over his backside, enjoying the sharp intake of breath and watching his ass cheeks clench with anticipation.  I enjoyed the way the leather strips caressed the skin closely, following its contours.

"So many ways to use that pretty ass of yours Mine," I purred, suddenly bringing the flogger down hard on his ass, watching his body go taut. His muscles flinched and a sharp, short cry came from him as he leaned against the tree. Once, twice, three times.  Over and over I brought the stinging toy down on My prey's beautiful rear, red marks arising on his skin, growing darker with each hit.   He jerked each time, sending wave after wave of erotic energy through Me.  His moans continued even after I paused, and I could almost feel his trembling at a distance. Part of Me wanted to caress the welts, and run My tongue gently over them so I could taste the blood flushed skin, but I smiled to Myself and resisted the distraction.

While I paused, I could hear his shaky breathing as he took short, shallow breaths. I ran the flogger gently over his hot, red marked ass, then up his back slowly, listening to him moan, his body shuddering under the now light touch. I could hear him very softly saying something, but it was so quiet I had to lean in close.  "Yes, prey?" I whispered, my lips so clear to his ear that when speaking they brushed it.  I next kissed his ear gently and a rush of breath came from him and he shivered. He repeated what he was saying again a bit louder.  This time I heard him.

"Please."  What I heard was a request, simple and clean.  It sent another wave of pleasure through Me.  He wasn't asking Me to stop, as I thought he might have been.  In that moment I wanted to devour him.  To take him to Me and destroy his current being and have him dwell inside of me, forever Mine, a part of Me.   I dug My nails into his shoulder blades and took My time dragging them down his back.   He let out a small shout, and a loud and hissing "Yesssss..." as I made red furrows down to his ass. I leaned to kiss the red gouges gently.  "You make Me want to hurt you prey,"  I said, stepping back and twirling the flogger in My hand.  I pulled it back, ready to strike.

"But I won't."  I laughed, My own voice throaty.  "But I will give you some pretty welts to show off at the gym."   Laughing again, I aimed at his back this time, I brought down the flogger hard.  Over and over... passing 5...then 10..and stopping at 15, enjoying each yelp of pain, every jerk of his boy, the way his back and ass muscles flexed with each strike. The lovely pattern of flogger-kissed skin stood out.  It was was a beautiful dance of give and take of the most intimate and erotic kind.

I paused, noticing that it was getting late and the sun was sinking.  Time to  wind it down.  I sighed and listened to his ragged breathing with satisfaction. Ahh the night... it held such promise.

 The End.

Changing Seasons by Gia

.Changing Seasons.
By Gia Reverie

Summer transitions
To autumn,
Only when it’s ready.

You can feel the
Shift in the air
When it’s finally,
.Willing.

Once warm nights,
Are now cold…
And vibrant leaves
Decay and
B.i.l.l.o.w
To the ground

Dissolving back,
Into the earth.
Nourishing,
The soil from
Which it grew.

Time passes,
Memories fade
And
I can’t hold onto
What I can’t reach.

I keep you nestled,
Safely in my heart.
Carrying you around...
.Everywhere.

It’s a love,
Like a seed.
That sprouts
Only when it’s
.Matured.

…Can you feel it?...

The wind is
...Shifting...
But your roots
Are entrenched
.Securely.

For even when
The leaves
Decay and nothing
Is left…

In time
they
B.l.o.s.s.o.m
again.

The Trip Part 2 by Anonymous

The night went by and morning dawned. And as normal he had woken before her. Just like the times before, he brought her breakfast and a cup of coffee. She sat there with a smile on her lips as he sat it down. She had been waiting for this as she looked over the eggs, bacon, bread and juice. She sat there for a moment before taking up a fork, getting some scrambled eggs and lifting it. She noticed him watching her with his usual self-assured smile. That shifted quickly to confusion, however, as she lifted the fork to his lips instead.

"I'm not too hungry right now. How about you eat this and I'll get something later."

"I've already ate hun. You should eat and keep up your strength. Remember how sick you got last year and the year before that?" he asked while pulling away the food.

"I do dear, but I feel fine right now. I think I'll go for a walk." As she said this, she lowered the fork to the plate. She caught the look of disappointment on his face. "You can eat that and I'll get something later," she offered again, giving him a smile before stretching and getting dressed.

She dressed silently then ducked out of the tent, leaving him with the cooling food. "Don't let it get cold, who knows what illness might be caught eating cold food in the forest."

She walked into the woods a ways and pulled out an energy bar, chewing on it while drinking some water from her canister. A smirk grew on her face. She enjoyed the fresh air for a time and then made her way back to camp. It was a little after noon now, and already she could hear the sounds of others setting up camps near by.

"Looks like we will have company again this year, " she said to him, as she walked past where he was sitting. She noted the worried look on his face while he put some items into a small pack.

"Yes it seems like it.  These places are so busy.  I just hope you keep that energy and don't get sick like you do. Have you've taken your medication I packed for you," he asked, looking up hopefully.

"Oh dear, I forgot them. I was just so excited this year. I knew it would be different. I'm sorry dear. I guess if I get sick we can go get some from the nearest town."

It was true that that particular pack never made it into the  van. It sat at home on the kitchen table. Most of it's contents were still laying spread out.

"I think I'll cook tonight for us. I have a wonderful meal planed. Don't be to long with your walk dear," she told him as he began to make way into the woods with his fishing pole in hand.

Breath Play by Lady Chaotic

Last night I heard fluttering
It sounded like wings beating
against the window

- but then...

I realized it was just my breath
caught in my chest,
locked behind my ribs,
causing me to struggle,
attempting to breathe.

...I closed my eyes...
and I thought of you,

I wondered what would happen
if I forgot how to breathe
and ended up floating away
               ...like a helium balloon...

The visual of it amused me.

I started to laugh...
in spite of myself,
my breath leaving me
in one great whoosh of laughter.

...and you were still there with me,
behind my eyes
and on my lips
as I laughed.

Confession by Anonymous

                                                                                                                                                                                                               by Anonymous

“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.” (Oscar Wilde, 1854 - 1900)

----------------

She gave me an alternative: either daily walks and daily gym and daily study (all real life!) or being locked up in a cock cage immediately instead of in six days.  I knew I couldn't work out that often so I chose my other option: immediate lock down.

We chatted in IM and I told her my decision.  She accepted it, simply commenting that as a sub (and not a slave) she was OK with it.  I asked if I should lock down right away.  “Yes!” she replied.
I had been a bit ‘down’ recently, feeling lonely.  Her eagerness and her support lifted my spirits instantly.  I took out the CB-6000 and fitted it as she added some more comments in the IM stream.  I read them as I fiddled with the plastic pieces and – finally – the brass lock.

Click.

She had control.  I could feel her happiness in once again taking charge of my sexual life.  She loved the power.  I loved her excitement at having it.  I didn't want to leave.  She had other ideas.  She told me to write this.  Priority.  She said I should describe my feelings.  “Yes, Miss.”

My feelings.  Another story…  My relative lack of feelings and emotions, except for ‘the bad ones’.

But at this instant, as I type, my feeling is simply one of soaring.  I have touched something in her far more important than simply the platitudes.  I have made her feel powerful.  I have submitted.  I have brought her a feeling of euphoria and delight.

I have purpose.

My role now is to be deprived so she can think of me as she finds ways to pleasure herself, weaving me into her erotic life.   That is awe-inspiring!  I am to be used rather than neglected, and she knows she has no obligations to me other than the basics (health and safety issues).  I am now more fully one of her sex toys.  I have a function.  I have utility.  I am now integrated into something outside myself.

I feel powerful, curiously, precisely because she has stripped me of power over my body.  I know I have the power to please instead of disappoint.  To be used and not considered useless.  To contribute and not to simply stand to one side – a mere observer.  She gets off on my captivity.
 
I will be frustrated in a few days, but simply being ‘unable’ will – if I tell her – make her smile.  She likes being in charge, managing me, dictating rules, being bossy.  She knows I like being on the receiving end: obeying and pleasing.

We have a good relationship.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Anonymous Confession 2

She makes me want to be a slave. I've never liked that word. Not for myself at least. A submissive sounds like a man with some respect. But from her... I want none. I want her sole pushing the side of my face into the dirt. I want every last shred of my dignity to stripped away by her talons. I do so love seeing the grins she gives me as I kneel there, humiliated. Degraded.

Slave. That's what she brings out in me.

Anonymous Confession 1

Sit back.
Relax.
Listen.

Now reach down.
Between your legs.
Touch.

Do it.
Ok.  I know you're not all doing it.
I said, do... it...
I'm waiting.  I'm watching.
Just stroke, over your clothing, between your legs.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
How nice.

Now stop.
Really.
Put your hands down.

I still see you touching.

Quit being an obstinate bitch and doing the opposite of what I tell you.

Stop it.

Quiet now.

Close your eyes.
Close your mouth.
Close your legs.

This is confessions.
So let me confess something.

I like to fuck.
But, is that really a confession if everyone already knows that?
Ok then, I guess not.

Let's change that statement.

I like to fuck with you.
Of course I do.
I'm doing it now.
You knew that, right?

You can't stop it.
It's already been done.
You've already been fucked.
Right here in front of everyone.
Such a whore.
You're so damn easy.

Touching yourself in public.
At some anonymous strangers command.

Am I a Domme?
Am I a sub?
Were you just punked?

I bet you still want to rub your crotch, don't you?
I knew it felt good.
But no.  Done.
You insatiable tart.
You naughty nymph.
You slutty stroker.

By the way, I hate Helen Hunt.
Seriously I do.
She has a fivehead, and she divorced Hank Azaria.  What an asshat.
I guess that's my real confession.

Stranger On A Train by Sillien

     Once every couple of months Stanley would ride the train upstate. It was a tranquil journey for the most part, giving him time to sit back and reflect without interruption. The cell phone, the tablet, the laptop...they would all stay tucked away as he leaned back and soaked in the view of the landscape zipping past. The whole trip had been committed to memory at this point. Over the years he had watched trees grow from little sticks peeking out of the soil.

     The car was usually empty, but this time a young couple walked in. The lady, dressed in jeans with a loose-fitting white blouse, spotted Stanley immediately. She pointed to the seats just across the aisle from him. “There. I want to sit there.”

     Her companion, a tall, tattooed man with broad shoulders, nodded and led her down the corridor, putting their baggage in the compartment and taking the aisle seat. His left arm wrapped around her and pulled her close, while his right slipped into her blouse and cupped her breast. The two of them started kissing, at first light pecks that turned into deep lip-locking. Stanley tried to keep his eyes on the horizon, scanning for a Lutheran Church that marked the passing of the first third of his trip, but his gaze wandered to the young couple that began devouring each other. His mouth felt a little dry and he suddenly became aware of some growth in his pants. He wanted to look away before he was noticed, but that wasn’t to be.

     The young lady stared right at him, piercing his soul and revealing him for the naughty little voyeur he was. He looked down, away from her, yet he knew that her eyes were on him still. That she knew the shame he was feeling. Their lips parted and she whispered into her lover’s ear. The man nodded and rose from his seat, giving Stanley a front-row view of the massive bulge that had formed in his pants. He made his way to the next car over.

     Stanley closed his eyes and slumped into his seat. ‘Just keep looking at the countryside’ he told himself, and just as he was about to look again he heard her voice.

     “Hey!” He jerked his around to see that she was leaning over the aisle seat’s armrest, blouse hanging low and offering a view of her cleavage. “Who do you think you are?”

     “M...Miss?” he stammered.

     “Do you think it’s alright to stare at other people like that? Are you some kind of pervert or something?”

     “No no no no no! I’m sorry, Miss! Please don’t think that! I just couldn’t stop looking, and I apologize for that from the bottom of my”

     She cut him short. “Shut up!” She shook her head. “What’s your name?”

     “S-Stanley, Miss,” he stammered.

     “Stanley. Okay, listen, Stanley. You’re a pervert. Do you understand? You’re a filthy little pervert, and the sooner you admit that the sooner we can be on better terms. Do you understand?’ Stanley just stared, dumbstruck. “Arrgh!” she screamed as she cupped her forehead with her palm. “Just repeat after me, Stanley. I.”

     “I.”

     “Am.”

     “Am.”

     “A pervert.”

     Stanley’s voice came across just loud enough to be categorized as a whisper. “A pervert.” With that she beamed over at him.

     “Good boy!” He smiled without meaning to. “Now tell me, Stanley, would you like to continue watching us?” There was just a blank stare. “Things are about to get very...hot in here. And I will ALLOW you to watch if you agree to a couple of simple rules. Do you think you can do that? Or would you rather look away, Stanley? Follow the rules, or no lookee for you, boy.” A brief pause hung in the air.  “Answer me.”

     Stanley quickly nodded. “Y-yes, Miss. I’ll follow your rules.”

     She let out a cackle that chilled him and clapped her hands. “Oh, excellent! VERY good boy, Stanley! Okay, rule number one: you are to keep an eye on us at all times. You are not to miss a thing. Understand?” He nodded. “Good. Rule number two: when I give you this signal,” she made a jerking-off motion with her hand, “you are to take out that little pervert dick of yours and start stroking. You need to match the rhythm of my hand. That part’s important to me. Understand?” Stanley gulped and nodded his head. “And finally, when I give you this signal,” she put arm straight out with the palm facing in the classic ‘stop’ sign, “You are to let go of that dick. Immediately.”

     He squeaked out a little, “Yes, Miss,” and she grinned back at him.

     “You know, Stanley, I am soooo glad that we finally understand each other.” She looked him dead in the eyes, and any hint of levity disappeared from her face completely. “That we both finally understand our place.” With that they could hear the car door starting to open and she sat back in her seat. Her man strode back to her with a cocktail in each hand.

     The couple sipped on their mimosas and chatted about… well, Stanley wasn’t really hearing what they were talking about. He kept his face forward, just peering over and paying attention as the man’s hand rested on her knee. As the conversation went on the hand slid up, squeezing her thigh, and finally rested in-between her legs. Stanley was rock hard. The man whispered into her ear and she giggled. She got got down on her knees and unzipped his pants, unleashing his cock from its confines. Her eyes darted over to Stanley and he was given a wicked grin before she took her man into her mouth. His hand went to the back of her head, and every now and then Stanley would get a glance from her. Then, two minutes in, he was given the signal.

     The zipper would not cooperate at first, and he fumbled with it to her amusement for a few moments before slipping it out. The signal was slow, just the way she was bobbing up and down, and Stanley wrapped his fingers around himself and stroked to her rhythm. He threw his head back, but kept his eyes on her as she pleasured her lover. Any other man might be imagined what it might be like to be her boyfriend, with those lips tightening against his shaft, but not this one. No, Stanley’s mind was focused on the fact that he wasn’t getting it. And the he got got the signal to stop.

     She stood up in front of her lover and took her jeans down to her knees, giving Stanley a view of her delicious curves. Her lover reached over to her hips and pulled her panties down, then back up again to turn her around so her back was facing him. Her hand reached between her legs to handle his cock as she lowered herself down into his lap, pausing for a brief moment as the tip scraped at her lips. The man pulled down on her hips, burying himself inside of her. Stanley let loose a whimper which he prayed they hadn’t heard. A smirk from her told him that it wasn’t so.

     The couple began to fuck. Slowly. A slight slapping sound filled the car as she was lifted up and brought back down, surrounding her man with her wet warmth. One of his reached around to her clit and started toying with it, eliciting moans from the woman. Stanley glanced down at his hardness only to notice that a tiny pool of pre-cum had started to slide down his shaft like a tear. The thought of that warmth suddenly made him realize just how cold his cock felt erect in the wind. And then he was given another signal.

     His hand went immediately to work, a feeling of deep gratitude towards this woman filling him for this gift. The couple began working faster, the slaps getting louder, but Stanley maintained the pace he was given earlier. He desperately wanted to go faster, to rub himself furiously, begging to her telepathically to give her permission. Instead he was given the sign to stop. This time the whimper was loud. She moaned as his discomfort graced her ears, turning towards him and giving the most evil sneer he had ever seen.

     The fucking was even faster now. Almost violent. The seat creaked with every thrust they made. Stanley wasn’t even trying to pretend like he wasn’t paying attention any longer. His was face was turned directly towards them, eyes glued to the display in front of him. Then signal he was given matched their breakneck pace, her bracelets jangling as her hand jerked up and down. His hand grabbed it in an instant and Stanley worked his penis ferociously, hitting his balls with each downstroke. The lady’s moans grew louder. The lover started to grunt with each thrust. She brushed his hand away and toyed with her clit as she watched Stanley. His eyes were locked on their coupling, on the glistening cock that appeared for a fraction of a second of a second at a time.

     Then the pumping stopped. The lover’s fingers dug into her hips and he grunted as he came, painting her insides with his fluids. Stanley started to pant and clench, so close to erupting all over the back of the seat in front of him. Almost there… just a few moments more… and then the bracelets jangled again as he was given the signal to stop. His hand flew away. He tried to avoid what was coming, but it wasn’t going to happen. His little dick started to twitch, and his filth began to dribble out, leaking down the shaft and dripping onto the seat, his eyes wide in horror as any pleasure he may have had from the moment escaped him. The lady moaned and shivered, helped along by robbing him, by his utter ruination, locked in spasms as the warmth of her orgasm filled her. It subsided and she sat there on her lover’s lap, his cock softening inside of her, his hands stroking her arms tenderly.

     They all sat there like that for a few minutes, drained in one way or another. Finally, she started to rise and pull up her jeans and mouthing to Stanley “Put that thing away.” He tucked his now flaccid penis into his pants. Within five minutes the train came to its stop.

     “Could you go ahead? I’ll be there in a minute,” she asked her lover. He gave a nod, a kiss on the lips, and grabbed their bags from overhead before walking up the aisle. When she was gone she looked over to Stanley. He looked at her, but kept his head bowed low. “Our return trip will be next Sunday. I just thought you might like to know that.”

     He nodded. “Thank you, Miss. For everything today. It was a pleasure to be allowed to watch you today.”

     “I know it was,” she nodded, glancing at the pool of filth on his seat. “One last thing, Stanley…” The lady reached down into her pants, sticking two fingers inside of her. She pulled out a scoop of her lover’s cum and flicked it at him, catching him across his cheek. She cackled and glanced at the seat she and her lover had fucked on, noticed that some of him had leaked out of her and onto the vinyl. “I hope someone cleans that mess up.” She looked him right in the eyes and winked, then strutted off of the train.

The End


The House Part 2

The House Part 2

The ink from my signature on the contract had not even had time to dry when Miss April issued her first command. One you might expect it of course, for one who had just consented to a year of consensual slavery. Her tone was firm, but not without an edge of gentleness.

“Remove all your clothes, Melissa. Fold them neatly on the table; then come stand before me,” Miss April, my new Mistress, said.

My red blouse had seven white, slightly translucent buttons. I started with the button at the bottom when the second command came.

“No...from the top...give me a show girl.”

Starting from the top, my fingers, with their crimson painted nails, fumbled at first with the button. Slowly I gained my composure and freed the first three buttons. I felt the sun kissing my now-exposed skin. As I reached the last button, much to my embarrassment, the thread holding the last button in place was unraveling, and the button fell to ground.

“Tsk Tsk Melissa, I will have to punish you for that. Why would you wear sub par clothing to our first meeting?”

I stayed silent as I pulled off the blouse and folded it. My instructions before coming to the House had been not to wear a bra or panties. I looked at Miss April as I stepped out of the skirt and kicked off my shoes. She smiled...you know that smile that lures you in...or like that bit of affection you show a kitten before you have it fixed.

I walked naked towards her across the polished concrete that surround her lavish pool. Warmed under the afternoon sun and it felt wonderful to my bare feet. I stopped an arms length from her...clasped my hands behind my head, spread my legs, and stood at attention as if I had read 100 times in my books. Miss April just laughed.

“Melissa, I only said to stand before me, this is not the army. Relax; we will teach our protocols when we are ready.  For now just stand there and enjoy the sun on your adorable little body.” With that Miss April relaxed in her chair, sipped on her sweet tea, picked up a book and started to read.

I could tell I had been standing there awhile because the sun was now just below the trees; it was then I could hear the clicking of heels behind me.

“Aww, hello Sophie,” Miss April said with pleasure as she laid her book down. “Sophie, this is Melissa and she will be in your charge for the first week.”

Sophie stood there in five-inch patent leather pumps locked on with tiny jeweled padlocks. Her stockings looked expensive, with intricate lace at the top.  She wore black garters, black panties, and a little lace bra that left her nipples exposed; of course there was nothing to support. The Adam's apple, six pack abs, and above-average package locked in a metal cage, covered by the lace panties, said more than enough. Sofie’s collar was about one inch wide, stainless steel with a hidden lock. She had matching wrist cuffs. If you looked closer they had Property of Mistress April engraved on each of them and on Sophie’s collar it had “Sophie” spelled out. Sofie had carried small pink paper bag.

“Melissa when you are not directly in my service or training or that of the other Ladies in my house, Sophie here is in charge of you and you will obey her. Sophie has earned a permanent place in my house and is a fine example for you to observe. Only permanent slaves warrant the expense of such fine collars and cuffs.” She grinned, knowing I was envious. I had fantasized about what I might look like in a fine collar and cuffs.

Miss April took the bag from Sofie and pulled out one of those soft Velcro collars and Velcro cuffs. You know -- the ones your vanilla neighbors buy to spice up their marriage.

“Kneel, Melissa,” she commanded. I obeyed. I was horrified and humiliated as she fastened the collar around my throat, then the cuffs. I gave a glance to Sophie who with her strong manly hands lifted me back up and snapped my hands behind my back. I almost cried, having expected to be collared with fine leather or steel.

“Melissa, restraints do not make you submissive” Miss April said.  With a nod Sophie spun me around and in a deep voice said “Hello Melissa, silence is a golden”; she snapped a leash to the collar and led me to what I thought was the guest house beside the pool.  Miss April called out “Sophie...10 heavy strikes of the crop on each of her ass cheeks;  she had a button fall off her blouse.” I could hear her amusement as Sophie looked back at me. “Don’t make me look bad this week” she said again in that dark masculine voice. We entered the guest house…..

To be continued

Confession by Doc Nolan

                                        By Doc Nolan
                                       
They had been talking – seriously – about ‘relationships’, marriage, cheating, sin, ex-spouses, and so on.  “You know, I’m not feeling particularly ‘frisky’,” he said.  She raised her eyebrows at that comment.  “Not horny?” she said with a smile.

“Not really….”

“I think it’s time to put your cock back into chastity,” she said, grinning.  He knew she was dead serious.   They both knew that his lack of interest was due to three days of orgasmic excess.  “Vacation”, as she called their ‘episodes’.

“You’re the boss,” he said, staring into his cup of coffee.

“Yep!” she replied.

And that evening, secured and locked down, he realized that he’d forgotten to ask the usual question: “How long?”  So he waited until after dinner to pop that question.

She again smiled at him after he asked.  “I haven’t decided yet…”  She paused.  “It depends on my mood.”  He nodded again, knowing very well that her moods were as unpredictable as the weather.  “Do you have a problem with that?”  He shook his head.  “Good!” she added.

She then went on.  “You do realize that just because you’re locked down, doesn't mean I have to deny myself, right?”  He found that comment amusing.  He grinned.  “Do you ever deny yourself?” he said.

“Why should I?” she instantly replied.  “Especially when I can get you to do whatever I like as you dream of me.”  She looked very self-satisfied.  He liked that look.  He spoke.

“You are very, very spoiled.”

She nodded.

-----------------

A month later he was still locked down.  (She carefully monitored his showering to be sure he didn't engage in any ‘monkey business’ as she called it.  He never knew when she would slide the shower door open to check on him during ‘clean-up’s …..).

“So, how are you feeling now, my precious?” she asked.

“Very frustrated and very horny!”  He meant it!  “How much longer?”

She watched his eyes -- which were focused on the key dangling between her breasts.  She liked to get him aroused and to then deny him.  It made her feel very, very powerful.  She refused to answer his question, and simply said, “I saw you looking at Mary Jane’s crotch this morning.  You do like her in tight jeans, don’t you?”  (She knew she had nothing to fear from Mary Jane.  What he did NOT know was that she delighted in telling Mary Jane all about her ‘control methods’ – in intimate detail.)

“Would you like to fuck Mary Jane?” she asked her man.  He nodded.  “Ain't gonna happen!”  She grinned.  He simply nodded and then gazed down at her painted toes.  A delightful shade of pink.  She noticed where his gaze was fixed.

“What would you say if I told you I talk to MJ and tell her all about you and your perversions?” she asked him.

“I’d say, ‘Sounds about right’.”

She added, “I do tell her, for your information…. Do you have a problem with that?”

He responded: “No.”

“Good,” she answered.  “Oh – and to answer your question from before…. I think you need two weeks, maybe more, locked up like this.  I like the idea that you are frustrated and horny and that I’m the woman who has ‘the power of the key’.”  She idly played with the key hung around her neck.

He looked up at her like a puppy.  His disappointment showed.

She then said, “No, on second thought you need another month like this.  I am having way too much fun.”  She added, “I guess I’m a sadist, aren't I?”

He nodded.  “You are.”  A silence ensued.  He then said, “I like you just the way you are!”

She then said, “I like me just the way I am, too!  Oh, and I love seeing you locked up dreaming of Mary Jane’s crotch – and mine – and all the things you’d love to do….. AND CAN’T.”  She giggled.  As she left the room she called back to him.

“Did I tell you that Mary Jane and I are lovers, dear?”

He didn't tell her that he’d suspected it.  His cock, despite the cock cage, twisted.  He knew he was fucked.  It felt good knowing she was in charge.  He loved her.  He was lucky to have found such perversion in a lady he liked, admired, and – adored.

Then his mind turned to Mary Jane.  He wondered.

Taste Of Submission by Anonymous

She leaned in close.
So close I could feel her breath on me almost as much as I could feel her eyes.
Staring.
Holding me down more forcefully than the hand on my wrist.
The grip on my throat.
"Pretty"
She whispered.
Murmured out in predatory pleasure.
Pursing her lips at me.
Her hand slid from about my neck and caressed affectionately up to trace my jawbone with but a fingertip.
"Pout"
This time more demanding.
Oh! It was an order.
My lips pursed back as she drew closer.
The image of a kiss flashed in my eyes and I tried not to smile.
Closing warmth touched to my maw.
Softly kissing at it.
My eyes refocusing to check what it was.
Her fingertips pressed to me, hushing me.
Demanding adoration by their presence.
I did not wish to disappoint.
Over and over I mouthed small kisses of desire.
Attention.
Worshiping their very existence.
Her lips curled into a more devious smile.
Gazing every deeper into my being.
Her two fingers curling and invading my mouth.
Possessively she purred out.
"Suck."
My tongue flattened to accept their presence.
Keeping my teeth in check while I created that sweet negative pressure.
Drawing hot saliva to embrace them.
Caress them.
Draw them in.
My lips still kissed at the softness that violates my mouth.
Her advancing palm seeking the same.
Eyes widening at the unrelenting advance.
Water beading in the corners at the growing sensation.
The need to repulse them.
The internal struggle between reaction and obedience.
My throat tenses and fights it.
She holds her hand there.
Watching me.
Devouring the turmoil.
Feasting upon my obedience.
The control she is imposing.
My eyes finally shut when my body gives in and gags firmly.
She pulls back, just a little.
Enjoying the tingle.
"Do better."

The Teeth by Madison

Teeth
by Madison Grayman

the back ring slides on
then the post
then slide on the teeth
oh the teeth
five tiny teeth of acrylic
not so menacing one might think
then the cage
a flash of tiny steel and brass
click
i am chaste

You start to speak
i start to feel small
You strike at my desires
blood starts to flow
You start explaining
my Pleasure
my Pain
belong to You
the teeth start to bite

those tiny pointed post
my sex begins to throb
to pulse
You speak more
Your voice as deadly as any whip
You know exactly what you are doing
I moan
I whimper
I fall naked to my knees
agony and pain
the teeth are winning
You are winning

the pain harsh
unforgiving
You own my pleasure
You own my pain
oh the teeth

Morning Has Broken by Lady Lobbie

He watches her breathing his heart flutters; he thinks she may be stirring. She bites her lip softly and suddenly he is rock hard; he moves to lie on his back and closes his eyes taking deep slow breaths trying to control himself.  He feels her hand over his eyes. “Keep them closed, mine.” she whispers in to his ear; he closes his eyes firmly as instructed. “Good Morning Mistress.” he says in greeting. He feels her mouth on his kissing him hungrily; he stifles a moan squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Her hand is on his cock stroking slowly firmly; his hips starts thrusting to meet her; she quickly pinches his nipple.

 “Don’t even think about it you horny bugger.” she says with a sneer. He gulps “Yes, sorry Mistress.” His cock is rock hard and throbbing. He feels her moving on the bed a shift in her weight the smell of her sex fills his nose he inhales deeply he’s guesses that she’s is kneeling over him. He finds himself wondering if he should ask to lick her or if he should wait for her to tell him to.  What a situation to be stuck in.  He desperately wants to taste her.  His mouth is filled with her fingers they taste of her.  He sucks them greedily, sucking off all her juices. She pulls her fingers out with an audible pop; he lets out a frustrated moan .

“Soon enough, soon enough” she tells him in a matter-of-fact way.  “Tongue and keep it out.” She commands. “Do you want to taste me boy?” He nods "wef pweafe oh Mifgweff." He mumbles, keeping his tongue out as she had commanded. He feels her soaking pussy touch his tongue and he starts lapping, happily running the tip of his tongue over her clit -- then sucking.

He wonders if he can touch her; she has not bound his hands.  He nibbles gently on her clit; hearing her moans he reaches to hold her ass. He ignores the throbbing in his cock, concentrating on giving his Mistress pleasure.  Kissing, sucking, nibbling and licking her clit before plunging his tongue in to her searching out her g-spot, he finds the little magic nub and starts flicking his tongue over it all the while this lips sucking hers, the taste of her filling his mouth.

She is thrusting on him he moans and panting growing. Suddenly she moves away from him; he is sure she didn't orgasm. Fuck he thinks. What did he do wrong this time? Her mouth is on his; she is kissing him hungrily before he feels her slide the tip of his hard cock in to her. Then she slams down his cock filling her wet throbbing pussy. She flicks his tongue “You can put that way” she tells him as she bounces firmly on him.

“Thank you Mistress.” He pants, keeping his eyes tightly closed. He is glad he can’t see her; if he were to see her wonderful breasts bouncing he doesn't think he could control himself. He feels her moving, twisting on his cock.  He gasps at the sensation of it her thrust getting faster.

“Open your eyes” she tells him.  As he does he looks up at her; she is facing away from him. His eyes travel down her body to her ass; his cock twitches.  Oh her ass is magnificent.  He holds back; his balls tighten; he must not cum. She looks back over her shoulder.  She is smiling; she is so beautiful when she smiles.

“May I please touch you Mistress.” He almost begs her. The pace quick her breathing ragged she is quite breathless as she rides him. “Only if you promise you are not going to cum when you do.”  He reaches up and touches her ass cheek, his fingertips brushing the soft skin, His cock throbs uncountable as he does so.  He moves his hand away; he know if he touches her he will not be able to control himself.  She once again looks at him. “Do you not want to touch me now?” she asks. “I do Mistress, very much. But you are so sexy that if I do I will cum if I do.” he says, looking deep into her eyes.

“Well we don’t what that now do we now.” She turns her head and bends slightly as she goes back to fucking him.  He thrusts his hips to meet her, tilting as he does watching his cock slide in and out of her.  He moans, reaches a crescendo and she arches her back and she screams, her juices soaking his cock.  She is panting; he is still hard.  He holds back.  He knows he needs permission before he can cum.  She twists around on his cock again so she is now facing him.  She starts thrusting her hips again, grinding in to him, her breasts swaying in time with her.  Her nipples are erect and she is still glowing and smiling from her orgasm.

“Can you last?” she asks panting; he grits his teeth and nods. “Yes, Mistress I will not cum until you allow ” he says, panting.  He wonders how many orgasms she is going to have before or if he is allowed to cum.  She carries on the slow rubbing, thrusting her body close to his then pinching each of his nipples in turn.  He mumbles 'ouch' and his hips thrust; she moans in pleasure as his cock is thrust deep in to her.  She smiles; thrust, thrust ,pinch, pinch the pattern goes on. He is so close, just on the edge; she holds herself still as her body shudders, his cock once again getting soaked as she cums.

Panting she looks down at him.” You can come in 30 seconds” she tells him, rocking her hips “30….20…15...10...5... 4... 3...2……” The last number hangs in the air, his cock throbbing and twitching, his balls aching. “1” she whispers.  His cock explodes, filling her with his hot cum; he moans as he empties himself into her, panting hard. He regains his composure and his breathing returns to normal. She lies on the bed

“Thank you for letting me cum Mistress.” he says with a wide smile.  She nods “Coffee” she tells him; he springs off the bed. “Right away, Mistress.” And with a spring in his step he makes his way to the kitchen.

Blurred Perception by Gia

.Blurred Perception.
By Gia Reverie


I see,
But I do not speak
For my words
Are meaningless
...They won't make you believe...

I see you…
Standing tall in your dominance
Casting a shadow of insecurity,
That makes you question
All you have to offer.

A hard armor,
Protecting a fragile heart.
A heart so beautiful,
And loving.
But often taken for granted

Resorting to
Pixel perfection fantasies

Comparison eradicating
Your confidence

Impossible standards
That can’t be reached

.But Oh How You Reach.

Woeful tears stream down,
Kissable cheeks.
Reprimanding yourself,
For not being flawless.

.For Being Real.

My eyes are open
And my mind is awake

And I see you…
Kneeling upon the ground
The weight of inferiority
Burdening your spirit

Your heavy heart,
Dimming the sparkle
In your eyes.

Devoted.
To everyone’s happiness,
But your own.

Giving everything,
Until you're left empty.

.Still Not Enough.

Replenished,
Only by external,
Gratification

Depriving yourself,
Of any other forms of love.
Because you feel,
Undeserving.

.But You're So Deserving.

Observations,
Made by an outsider.

And I wish you could see,
What I see…

With a mirror placed,
In front me.

I realize
The deceit
That has blurred
My own perception

Living in an illusion
Of how I should be
When I am reality

.I Am Real.

We all quiver,
In second guesses.
Or speak louder,
In compensation.

Breaking ourselves
From a whole,
Into fragments.
Just to feel
.Compatible.

Saturday, August 9, 2014

The House by Anonymous

"The House "
The names have been changed to protect the perverted.
****************************************************
My name is Melissa, I am from a small town in the mountains of Virginia. In high school I watched the movie called “Secretary.” It lit something deep inside. I naturally tried to please everyone, but here was a world that I could truly focus that desire to please.

After college, I took a job in Atlanta. Atlanta, if you have never been there is hell on earth during the summer, it is hot and traffic never seems to move. It was on one such day that my car broke down after overheating and I called my friend Anne. I had met her at “1763” which is a Fetish club and dungeon in Atlanta. I had been going for a few months now just talking with people. Anne is a switch and knew me pretty well by now.

“Melissa, I want to tell you about a place” she said a few minutes down the road. My mind was on calling a tow truck and getting my car fixed. “Are you listening Melissa?” she snapped into her Domme mode

“Yes Miss!” I responded quickly….startled, but just from the little experience I had, I knew thats how I was to respond.

“Melissa, your job right now is barely paying your bills and your car needs to...well...be put out its misery.” she said “There is this place…its well...its a lifestyle place...our lifestyle if you know what I mean?”

“What’s it called..this place and well why would I be interested?” I asked.

“Do you remember the Mistress at 1763 that caught your eye? She was standing by the bar, but you were to nervous to approach.”

I nodded

“That’s Miss April...and she owns a private estate just outside of the city, its an honest to goodness plantation, like from "Gone With the Wind" or something. It is only known in Atlanta as “The House” and she does things differently.......

We drove on in silence to my apartment and said our good byes. I climbed to the fourth floor of my apartment building, took a long shower after being stranded on the side of the road in the heat. I just stood there in the refreshing water and steam, feeling cleansed, but pondering what Anne had said. She was right of course, my job was a dead end, this apartment, while mine, was nothing to write home about.

 After my shower I slipped into a t-shirt and shorts, and sat down at my table, flipped open my laptop and wrote a letter. Well... an email to the address Anne provided with the the simple sentence she said I should write "I am interested" signed my first name and clicked send.

I arrived at the House in mid-July.  It was four weeks to the day since my car broke down and the email correspondence began. I must have answered  hundreds of questions, sent pictures of myself, measurements, essays about my fantasies, and one trip to 1763 where I was instructed to wear a little black dress and a purple ribbon around my neck like a collar so that I would be marked. I was to just enjoy the evening and mingle. I would be observed, but not know by who.

But now it is real and I am at the house.

It was late in the afternoon, but the temperature was comfortable for this time of year in the south. I knocked on the door and  The butler took my suitcase, offered me the powder room which I declined politely.  With a wave of his arm, I was ushered through the large house to the pool.

“The applicant is here” he announced to a woman lying out by the pool and turned away leaving me there alone.

“Hello Melissa” Miss April said “Welcome to my home…come join me for a glass of tea.”

Sweet tea in the south is a must.

She stood up, wearing a retro bikini, It reminded me of rockabilly, she headed to a table in the shade and I followed.

“Why are you here?” she asked abruptly

The question caught me completely off guard. Did she not already know? Didn’t she read my application?

“Why are you here?” Miss April asked commandingly, her patience already running thin.

“I want…I ummm I desire to serve a Dominant Woman” I said with quivering lips.

“You can do that anywhere Melissa, why have you come to my house?”

There was a long pause

“It has to be real, completely real…I heard that here…here it is real… consensual...but real.” I blurted out before I could figure out exactly what I had just said.

A smile started to creep across Miss April's face “explain real to me Melissa?”

“I consent to Your terms, my only out is the safe word from Your application...." I paused… “I know that short of anything illegal or permanent damage to my body….It is on the table…..at least thats what I have been told.”

“Melissa on that table over there is a contract for you to sign after and only after you read the summary….the small print you may read of course if you like, but its just standard legal mumbo jumbo.”

Her tone was playful and I rose up and walked about 15 feet to the other table and retrieved the contract…it was at that moment I realized She was watching how I walked and carried myself. I was more modestly dressed this day, a red short sleeve blouse, white flowing skirt, and summer wedge sandals. It would be the first of many total and complete moments of objectification.

I sat back down and started to read the key points of the contract. Most of it was pretty basic like my place was the submissive and Hers was the Domme…then I read that there were others who I would have to serve and obey. I scanned most of it and then it got to the point where it read “Now for the verbal explanation…only then may you sign the contract.” I was like how can anything be verbal, but I looked at Her. She could tell by my puzzled look where I was in the contract and started to explain my future if I was to stay in Her house.

1. You are property of The House. No more, no less. This doesn’t mean We don’t care, but you will be treated as property…still cherished…We are not heartless…just be prepared Melissa and open your mind to the experience. We will keep the leash extremely short.

2. You will obey without question any Lady of My house as if they were Me. If one of My Sisters wants to shave your head, then your head will be shaved. You will never know what to expect, Melissa.

3. We expect you to push back, be prepared for the consequences.

4. The first week in the house no clothes, no exception, and you will not leave the estate. We start with the basics here. You can come here with years of experience, We start over. We teach you OUR protocols and OUR expectations.

5. After week one things will begin to advance, You may be clothed, but only in what We give you or say you can wear. Often you will find Anthony the butler will have your clothes We have chosen for you waiting after your morning shower….and that brings up the next thing.

6. Shave everything below the neck….You will be fully exposed here.

7. Bring an attitude and desire each day of willingness to improve. You are not perfect, We do not strive for perfection here….We strive for you to grow in your desire to be of service, to be submissive, to put Our needs before yours because its mutually enjoyable.

8. Your safe word Melissa is simple “Red”. You don’t get a yellow...If you use Red, the contract ends, Anthony will pack your bags, call you a cab, and give you travel money home.

“Melissa, this is a special place, and We want you here. You have something special that We see in you, but you have to do two things…accept that this is what you want...and….sign the contract for 1 year in My house with an option to extend….My option..not yours.” Miss April concluded.

I signed...and my life changed forever…..(possibly continued)


Morning Glory by Doc

by Doc Nolan

It was a quiet day – a very quiet day – for Shannon.  She had been laid the night before and her boyfriend was still there in the bedroom, sound asleep.  In his cage… snoring softly.

She liked that.  In a few minutes she would wake him up by banging on the cage with a stick she always left on the floor next to her bed.  But for now, she just lay there as the sun shone into the room, its rays creating a lattice of dark and light bars across the sheets.  She would bang on his cage when the mood hit her – as it certainly would.  But for now……

As she lay there she dreamed of a warm coffee and hot buttered toast.   Having a boyfriend had its advantages.  He would make the coffee, bring her the toast, and then stand in a corner watching while she enjoyed herself.  On second thought, she might have him face the wall so she could look at his butt.  It had been so delicious caning his behind last night!  Why not stare at him as he stared at a blank wall.  Delicious thought!

“I am such a bitch,” she thought – with a grin.  “And he is so easy… how did I luck out finding this one!”

Shannon wasn’t in love – exactly.  She thought of it as a ‘comfortable relationship’ instead – comfortable for her, but a pain in the ass for him.  She chuckled at her own wit.  Yep, his ass must be painful.  She was not the kind of girl who would ‘hold back’ when it came to whipping butt.  And his was so inviting!

Finally, Shannon decided she wanted that coffee and toast….  Should she gently strum the stick across the bars and gently wake him to his day’s obligations?  Or should she bang loudly on the bars and startle him awake?

She chose the latter….

“Wake up, motherfucker!  Time for my breakfast, dude!  Get cracking!”  He woke with a start and hit his head on the bars, not realizing he was in his cage….  Shannon giggled.  “Forget about last night already?”, she taunted.  He knew better than to say a single word.  The look on his face said it all – he remembered.

“I’m going to let you out to make my coffee and toast,” said Shannon.  “This afternoon back into the cage.  I want to take some pictures of you in there – just like the ones I took last week, but this time showing your striped butt.”  Shannon was no fool.  The pictures were her ‘insurance policy’ and she kept them in a safe deposit box.  He didn’t know she had no intention of ever letting anyone see them…. How could she explain them to folks who knew she and he were ‘a couple’?  But as long as he didn’t know that, she had a powerful grip on his behavior – stronger than the bars of the cage.

Shannon enjoyed the power of making him do whatever she wanted.  That was a rush!  And it was fun coming up with new ‘pet tricks’ for him.  ....  He did errands.  He vacuumed and dusted and (sometimes) even cooked.  And he ALWAYS picked up the tab when they went out – not just for them, but for whoever they were with as well.  (Her girlfriends were very envious – but they knew Shannon well enough to steer clear of ‘her property’ as she referred to her boyfriend.)

Shannon unlocked the cage – still banging on it – and announced, “Rise and shine, mister.  I want my coffee.  I want my toast.  And I want them now.  Get your red butt in gear.”

And he did.

He always did exactly as he was told.

In fact, thought Shannon, he was just about perfect.  Being a woman was sweet.  So much power.  So many men to be tamed, used, and (sometimes) abused.

“Hey, mister, don’t spill any of that coffee on your way to the bedroom, or I’ll loan you out again to Edith.  And you know what she did the last time I loaned you to her!”

That coffee was going to be so nice!  And the buttered toast!  And having him stand in his corner facing the wall as she enjoyed her status as a lady of leisure – and as a very, very successful bitch!