I kneel, face to the floor, hands chained in front of me. My eyes are covered by a blindfold. My ass is hooked, a chain leading from the hook to a ring on the back of my collar, and in the middle of that, a chain to a hook high above. The chain is pulling both my collar and the hook in fmy ass, but the order is “head down” so I stay in position, awaiting your next command. I can hear some noise, sense some movement next to me, but nothing distinct as my ears are plugged too. I can smell you. And then you’re gone.
I can sense there’s someone next to me; I can feel the heat from their body in the cool room, radiating across the short gap. We both wait. Wait for you to ready yourself and make your entrance.
The door slams loudly, making me start. I look up instinctively, expecting to see, but the blindfold foils me. A crop taps the back of my head and I bow back down, the collar again pulling at my neck.
Some more motion...but not me. Then I’m unchained. Pulled up to a kneeling position. Someone standing in front of me. Your finger touches my lip. I kiss it instinctively, then you push it into my mouth. I grant you access. You fuck my mouth as I suck your finger, then pull down gently, opening my jaws gently. I leave my mouth hanging open as you pull your finger away.
Something else is introduced. Soft, warm, velvety. Unmistakable scent, shape, size. The person next to me was...is clearly male. Is clearly now in front of me. Is having their dick pushed into my mouth by you. My instinct to pull away subsides, as I realise this isn’t for me. Its for you.
So I suck. I let that dick slide into my mouth, feeling it press against the roof of my mouth. He’s hard, and thrusting into me. I start to gag a little, which causes a hand to be held against the back of my head, pushing me even deeper onto his cock. He keeps thrusting into me. The feel of his dick in my mouth, and the steel ball inside my cunt, make me stiffen and swell.
Suddenly, he pulls - or maybe is pulled - out of me. I’m roughly pushed back down to the worship position, and the ball of the ass hook is worked out of my cunt. The relief is short-lived though, as his cock soon invades me a second time, ploughing into my ass, stretching and filling me.
I cry out in pain, only to find myself suddenly and roughly gagged, then my head pushed back to the floor, and held there with a foot. He keeps thrusting into me throughout, his cock twitches, he thrusts one final time, deeper than I thought possible. I cry again through the gag as he rends my ass in two and pumps his cum deep inside me.
As he starts to fade, he pulls out of me. A few seconds later and the door slams again. I wait, cunt dripping sticky cum, for you to return with the next one.
Monday, December 12, 2016
Mark’s Kinky Wish for Xmas
It was late at night, on Xmas eve. I was ferreting about in the backstreets of London. The sorts of places where they still have those little curio shops, nestled amongst the Chinese restaurants and the all-night coffee bars. The snow was making little festive drifts where the winos’ empty bottles lay against the shop fronts.
I was feeling sorry for myself. ‘Xmas is coming’, I thought, ‘which is more than I am’.
Bloody women. Why can’t I find one? If only women understood what I really want, the world would be a much better place. I am sensitive, caring, a good listener – why can’t I find a domme who will do exactly what I want, for God’s sake?
I wandered down an alleyway I hadn’t visited before. At the end of the street, there was a dimly-lit sign: ‘Madame Karrie’s Olde Worlde Fancies and Useful Things’. I thought, ‘May as well: this shop looks like a pile of crap, but the evening is already a write-off. Another bloody miserable Xmas.’ I pushed at the door, and the little bell above it gave a quiet chime as I entered.
The woman behind the counter, half revealed and half shrouded by the dim candlelight in the shop’s interior, glanced up from a package she had been wrapping.
‘Merry Xmas! I am the owner here. How can we help you?’ she said.
‘I want something unusual’, I replied. ‘It is Xmas, and I bloody well deserve something out of the ordinary. So go on. Surprise me from your treasure trove of tat’.
For just a moment, as though by a trick of the candlelight, it looked to me as though a fiery glitter appeared in her eyes. But the next second it was gone, and she smiled benignly at me.
‘Well’, she said, ‘we are always happy to cater for our caring and sensitive clientele.’
I had one of those mental deja-vu hiccups, where you find yourself realising ‘wait a minute, that is just what I was thinking!’ But her happy smile and almost girlish voice reassured me. I walked over to join her at the counter.
‘In fact, I’ve just been wrapping your present’, she said.
Normally, I would have found that sort of presumptuousness in a woman intensely annoying. My present! How could it be my present? I’d never even set foot in the store before. Women are *always* doing that to me – as if somehow my innermost desires are transparent to them. I wouldn’t mind, but usually they run a mile once they think they have worked out what I really want. But, there was something about the way her slim fingers were tying the ribbon around the package …. I snatched it up.
‘I should warn you’, she said, ‘be very, very careful how you use this’.
I gave her my best disdainful stare: it is the one that says ‘If I want an insignificant person like you to offer me advice, I will ask for it.’ She smiled happily at me – although for just one brief moment I felt again as though I could see flames in her eyes. Obviously, another trick of the candlelight. I mean, really. Pay your bloody electric bill, woman!
She watched in silence as I pulled at the wrapping paper. Underneath was an old, tarnished, brass lamp.
‘Really?’, I laughed. ‘Could you *be* more stagey??? A brass lamp?’
She looked down demurely at her hands, now clasped in front of her.
‘Perhaps if Sir were to rub the lamp – but I warn you, you really should be careful’.
‘Let me guess, I rub the lamp and make a wish? Or do you rub my cock and I make a wish? I always get those confused’, I laughed.
The room grew dark, and for a moment the shop become almost insufferably hot, and the flames from the candles seemed to cast an orange glow against the walls, reflected back in her eyes. But the next instant, I was back in the dimly lit interior and there she stood, nice as ninepence. I blinked. Perhaps I should cut down on the festive drinkies.
‘If Sir rubs the lamp, and makes a wish, it will come true’, she said. ‘But, you can only do it three times’, she smiled at me.
See, this is just my luck. I wander into a wierdo shop, where they can’t even afford fluorescent lighting, but then it turns out the shop-keeper is, well, pretty God-damned good looking. But then it turns out she is a fruitcake. That is my life in a nutshell.
‘OK’, I said, ‘Watch this!’
I rubbed the lamp and then said in a loud voice (a bit like one of those characters from ‘Lord of the Rings’):
‘Bring me a Mistress now!’
There was a bright flash, and standing before me was a lady in a too-short red miniskirt, with teetery high heels and too much makeup.
‘Omigod, Mark!’ she cried. ‘Our secret is revealed! Our passionate affair has been discovered by Lord Boris Johnson, and now he demands recompense. You must duel with him at dawn, my darling!’
‘For fuck’s sake!’, I shouted at the lamp. ‘Not *this* kind of mistress, you stupid twat! If I want an over-blown tart I can join Tinder!’
I rapped the lamp on the counter-top, and the red-miniskirted one disappeared. I glanced over at the woman behind the counter. If I was a person of lower self-esteem, I could almost have imagined her eyes were mocking me. But if I was that sort of person, I would go around worrying what the stupid counter-girls at Tescos thought about me. I rubbed the lamp again.
‘Listen very, very carefully lamp. I want someone dominant!’
There was another blinding flash. A short balding man stood before me, His leather jeans looked two sizes too small, and the leather straps of his harness nestled snuggled into the tufts of grey hair on his chest.
‘Aha!’, he said. ‘Now I have you, you ……’
I rapped the lamp on the counter-top again. He disappeared.
I shouted at the lamp. ‘Will you pay fucking attention, you useless piece of badly molded brass-mongery! I want a woman, who is beautiful, and dominant, and who will be my mistress!’
I rubbed the lamp again, and this time the lightning flash seemed to last for an eternity. The walls of the shop dissolved into the red and orange hues of the candlelight and white bolts of electricity shot across the room. As the shop faded from sight around me, the shop owner was surrounded by pulsing shimmers of heat and luminiscence. In the half-light that was left from the flickering candles and the shafts of radiance surrounding the shop keeper, I could vaguely make out a landscape of desolation stretching out into infinity behind her: gibbets, crosses, cages, bonfires and the mournful sound of souls yelling in torment. I felt an awful tugging sensation at the centre of my being, drawing me towards the infinitude of fiery darkness beyond.
‘Ah’, the shop-keeper said, ‘I thought you would never ask’.
I was feeling sorry for myself. ‘Xmas is coming’, I thought, ‘which is more than I am’.
Bloody women. Why can’t I find one? If only women understood what I really want, the world would be a much better place. I am sensitive, caring, a good listener – why can’t I find a domme who will do exactly what I want, for God’s sake?
I wandered down an alleyway I hadn’t visited before. At the end of the street, there was a dimly-lit sign: ‘Madame Karrie’s Olde Worlde Fancies and Useful Things’. I thought, ‘May as well: this shop looks like a pile of crap, but the evening is already a write-off. Another bloody miserable Xmas.’ I pushed at the door, and the little bell above it gave a quiet chime as I entered.
The woman behind the counter, half revealed and half shrouded by the dim candlelight in the shop’s interior, glanced up from a package she had been wrapping.
‘Merry Xmas! I am the owner here. How can we help you?’ she said.
‘I want something unusual’, I replied. ‘It is Xmas, and I bloody well deserve something out of the ordinary. So go on. Surprise me from your treasure trove of tat’.
For just a moment, as though by a trick of the candlelight, it looked to me as though a fiery glitter appeared in her eyes. But the next second it was gone, and she smiled benignly at me.
‘Well’, she said, ‘we are always happy to cater for our caring and sensitive clientele.’
I had one of those mental deja-vu hiccups, where you find yourself realising ‘wait a minute, that is just what I was thinking!’ But her happy smile and almost girlish voice reassured me. I walked over to join her at the counter.
‘In fact, I’ve just been wrapping your present’, she said.
Normally, I would have found that sort of presumptuousness in a woman intensely annoying. My present! How could it be my present? I’d never even set foot in the store before. Women are *always* doing that to me – as if somehow my innermost desires are transparent to them. I wouldn’t mind, but usually they run a mile once they think they have worked out what I really want. But, there was something about the way her slim fingers were tying the ribbon around the package …. I snatched it up.
‘I should warn you’, she said, ‘be very, very careful how you use this’.
I gave her my best disdainful stare: it is the one that says ‘If I want an insignificant person like you to offer me advice, I will ask for it.’ She smiled happily at me – although for just one brief moment I felt again as though I could see flames in her eyes. Obviously, another trick of the candlelight. I mean, really. Pay your bloody electric bill, woman!
She watched in silence as I pulled at the wrapping paper. Underneath was an old, tarnished, brass lamp.
‘Really?’, I laughed. ‘Could you *be* more stagey??? A brass lamp?’
She looked down demurely at her hands, now clasped in front of her.
‘Perhaps if Sir were to rub the lamp – but I warn you, you really should be careful’.
‘Let me guess, I rub the lamp and make a wish? Or do you rub my cock and I make a wish? I always get those confused’, I laughed.
The room grew dark, and for a moment the shop become almost insufferably hot, and the flames from the candles seemed to cast an orange glow against the walls, reflected back in her eyes. But the next instant, I was back in the dimly lit interior and there she stood, nice as ninepence. I blinked. Perhaps I should cut down on the festive drinkies.
‘If Sir rubs the lamp, and makes a wish, it will come true’, she said. ‘But, you can only do it three times’, she smiled at me.
See, this is just my luck. I wander into a wierdo shop, where they can’t even afford fluorescent lighting, but then it turns out the shop-keeper is, well, pretty God-damned good looking. But then it turns out she is a fruitcake. That is my life in a nutshell.
‘OK’, I said, ‘Watch this!’
I rubbed the lamp and then said in a loud voice (a bit like one of those characters from ‘Lord of the Rings’):
‘Bring me a Mistress now!’
There was a bright flash, and standing before me was a lady in a too-short red miniskirt, with teetery high heels and too much makeup.
‘Omigod, Mark!’ she cried. ‘Our secret is revealed! Our passionate affair has been discovered by Lord Boris Johnson, and now he demands recompense. You must duel with him at dawn, my darling!’
‘For fuck’s sake!’, I shouted at the lamp. ‘Not *this* kind of mistress, you stupid twat! If I want an over-blown tart I can join Tinder!’
I rapped the lamp on the counter-top, and the red-miniskirted one disappeared. I glanced over at the woman behind the counter. If I was a person of lower self-esteem, I could almost have imagined her eyes were mocking me. But if I was that sort of person, I would go around worrying what the stupid counter-girls at Tescos thought about me. I rubbed the lamp again.
‘Listen very, very carefully lamp. I want someone dominant!’
There was another blinding flash. A short balding man stood before me, His leather jeans looked two sizes too small, and the leather straps of his harness nestled snuggled into the tufts of grey hair on his chest.
‘Aha!’, he said. ‘Now I have you, you ……’
I rapped the lamp on the counter-top again. He disappeared.
I shouted at the lamp. ‘Will you pay fucking attention, you useless piece of badly molded brass-mongery! I want a woman, who is beautiful, and dominant, and who will be my mistress!’
I rubbed the lamp again, and this time the lightning flash seemed to last for an eternity. The walls of the shop dissolved into the red and orange hues of the candlelight and white bolts of electricity shot across the room. As the shop faded from sight around me, the shop owner was surrounded by pulsing shimmers of heat and luminiscence. In the half-light that was left from the flickering candles and the shafts of radiance surrounding the shop keeper, I could vaguely make out a landscape of desolation stretching out into infinity behind her: gibbets, crosses, cages, bonfires and the mournful sound of souls yelling in torment. I felt an awful tugging sensation at the centre of my being, drawing me towards the infinitude of fiery darkness beyond.
‘Ah’, the shop-keeper said, ‘I thought you would never ask’.
This Is Not The Gift You Were Expecting by Anonymous
This is not the gift you were expecting
You were expecting something wrapped smartly,
With crisp corners and tight edges, bright cheery paper, like those clerks in the malls
At Christmas time would offer. Perfect bow centered on top, seams straight.
This is something wrapped urgently on the way out the door, barely covered in the Sunday comics, tape everywhere, frayed cord bow stretched enough to make a little hole right over The Family Circus
It’s the feel of the cord on your wrists that jolts you back into the present. It tightens like a feeding boa constrictor every time you try to move. You give that up.
The blindfold is still there. Time is meaningless, an abstract concept invented by a dead religion. The sun may have crossed the sky, it may have laughed at you. The stars may be telling inside jokes.
Cracked lips and dry mouth. Sore muscles. The not knowing. The knowing that the only thing you know is that you don’t know.
Then there is the cock. The random erections caused only because your thoughts drifted to her. Because in your need you dared to let yourself hope. Throbbing, pulsing, hardness, even that, ultimately out of your control.
Once more it stands straight up, slapping off your stomach as you hear her voice murmur an appraisal. A wet tongue brushes your lips, gone in an instant
Then tracing every curve and line of your aching body, down the sweep of your thighs. A pause, then with impossible precision, a line is drawn up the vein of your shaft, and your whole body shudders.
This is not the gift you were expecting.
You were expecting something wrapped smartly,
With crisp corners and tight edges, bright cheery paper, like those clerks in the malls
At Christmas time would offer. Perfect bow centered on top, seams straight.
This is something wrapped urgently on the way out the door, barely covered in the Sunday comics, tape everywhere, frayed cord bow stretched enough to make a little hole right over The Family Circus
It’s the feel of the cord on your wrists that jolts you back into the present. It tightens like a feeding boa constrictor every time you try to move. You give that up.
The blindfold is still there. Time is meaningless, an abstract concept invented by a dead religion. The sun may have crossed the sky, it may have laughed at you. The stars may be telling inside jokes.
Cracked lips and dry mouth. Sore muscles. The not knowing. The knowing that the only thing you know is that you don’t know.
Then there is the cock. The random erections caused only because your thoughts drifted to her. Because in your need you dared to let yourself hope. Throbbing, pulsing, hardness, even that, ultimately out of your control.
Once more it stands straight up, slapping off your stomach as you hear her voice murmur an appraisal. A wet tongue brushes your lips, gone in an instant
Then tracing every curve and line of your aching body, down the sweep of your thighs. A pause, then with impossible precision, a line is drawn up the vein of your shaft, and your whole body shudders.
This is not the gift you were expecting.
The Night Before Christmas by Anonymous
Twas the night before Christmas and Madame Whiplash,
Had closed up her dungeon and was counting the cash,
The last client had gone and the handcuffs locked tight,
Tucked in their drawer for the rest of the night.
The whips, crops and birches were stowed round the back,
She'd loosened the cogs of the dastardly rack,
Spurs were wiped clean of blood, the bullwhips were coiled,
The chains were buffed bright and the leathers were oiled.
It was late as she packed the ball-gags in a drawer,
And swept up sawdust from the bloodstained, tiled floor,
As she tidied away an array of butt-plugs,
Something fell down the chimney with a ho-ho and a thud.
It was Santa, white-bearded, and laughing so jolly,
"My dear, did you order panties made from holly?
A barb-wire bra and a corset to match-it,
And for your worn rack, a new capstan and ratchet?
Thigh-boots in black with spurs and high heels,
Clips, clamps and pincers to make clients squeal?
My dear, all these items are for tortures so vile -
Not befitting this season, which is one of goodwill."
Madame Whiplash replied, "I have recommendations,
From satisfied clients - do you want demonstrations?
I could start with a caning to make your cheeks glow,
An old-fashioned spanking to make you "ho-ho".
I can truss you in leather, with a bridle and reins,
Hitch you up to the sled with harness and chains,
If your sack has been heavy and you have a sore back,
May I offer a stretching on my refurbished rack?"
Santa's eyes opened wide and he answered, "My dear,
I guess that you've heard I come but once a year,
What you have offered will relieve my frustration,
Mrs. Claus never offers me such stimulation,
"We've almost an hour so please do your worst,
Strip me and whip me with bullwhip and birch,
Use restraining devices till the pressure is pinching,
I can take a rack-session without screaming or flinching -
But don't tell the kiddies that Santa's depraved,
That I like S & M or play mistress and slave,
Don't mention my studs or my Prince Albert ring,
My nude-woman tattoos or my intimate piercings!"
On that night before Christmas, old Santa he stripped,
Got solidly thrashed, stretched, handcuffed and whipped,
Then back in his outfit and full of good cheer,
He said "I really must dash - but I'll be back next year!"
Author: Unknown
Had closed up her dungeon and was counting the cash,
The last client had gone and the handcuffs locked tight,
Tucked in their drawer for the rest of the night.
The whips, crops and birches were stowed round the back,
She'd loosened the cogs of the dastardly rack,
Spurs were wiped clean of blood, the bullwhips were coiled,
The chains were buffed bright and the leathers were oiled.
It was late as she packed the ball-gags in a drawer,
And swept up sawdust from the bloodstained, tiled floor,
As she tidied away an array of butt-plugs,
Something fell down the chimney with a ho-ho and a thud.
It was Santa, white-bearded, and laughing so jolly,
"My dear, did you order panties made from holly?
A barb-wire bra and a corset to match-it,
And for your worn rack, a new capstan and ratchet?
Thigh-boots in black with spurs and high heels,
Clips, clamps and pincers to make clients squeal?
My dear, all these items are for tortures so vile -
Not befitting this season, which is one of goodwill."
Madame Whiplash replied, "I have recommendations,
From satisfied clients - do you want demonstrations?
I could start with a caning to make your cheeks glow,
An old-fashioned spanking to make you "ho-ho".
I can truss you in leather, with a bridle and reins,
Hitch you up to the sled with harness and chains,
If your sack has been heavy and you have a sore back,
May I offer a stretching on my refurbished rack?"
Santa's eyes opened wide and he answered, "My dear,
I guess that you've heard I come but once a year,
What you have offered will relieve my frustration,
Mrs. Claus never offers me such stimulation,
"We've almost an hour so please do your worst,
Strip me and whip me with bullwhip and birch,
Use restraining devices till the pressure is pinching,
I can take a rack-session without screaming or flinching -
But don't tell the kiddies that Santa's depraved,
That I like S & M or play mistress and slave,
Don't mention my studs or my Prince Albert ring,
My nude-woman tattoos or my intimate piercings!"
On that night before Christmas, old Santa he stripped,
Got solidly thrashed, stretched, handcuffed and whipped,
Then back in his outfit and full of good cheer,
He said "I really must dash - but I'll be back next year!"
Author: Unknown
Sins Of The Flesh by Emma
as she rested on bended knee ..... her Mistress look up at her rolled her hand round her face ...... and smiled ........ and whispered into her ear " my little slut , mine all mine " as she heard her Mistress speak these words tingling sensations run through out her body and she was filled with adrenaline , as her Mistress looks down at her slowly removing the top she had on and was so gratefully allowed to wear , she then slowly moving her hand round her shoulders all the way down to the very nipple , rolling all the way round making it stand on end ......... the more her Mistress whispered Mine into her ear the harder and harder they became , as her hand gently rolled down her stomach grabbing her pussy ....... saying in a loud booming voice ............ this slut this is mine too , i own this ......... are we clear ...... she nodded to her Mistress , yes Mistress ........ as she opens her legs wider .......... All Yours Mistress .........
as her hands began to roll round her nipple all the way down to her stomach pulling at her panties snapping it back hard leaving a pink mark on her pelvis ........ as she squeals thank You Mistress .... her Mistress grins grabs a piece near her waist starts to rip off exposing her pink fleshy dripping wet pussy ...........
as her Mistress pushes her foot up against her clit .......... is this what you want slut ?? is this what you want whore ??? ............. as she squeals and bends yes Mistress ......... as her Mistress grins slapping the inside of her thigh pink back handing the other side , she lets out such a squeal ........ all the while saying Thank You Mistress, as it was always such a pleasure to be touch by her ........
her hand moves down to inbetween her legs and slaps her clit hard as it goes vibrating through her , her Mistress staring deep into her eyes filled with nothing but lust
pushes her back so she falls on the floor her legs spread wide as she moans Thank You Mistress mmmmmmmmm , slapping her clit again and again harder as she jumps the more her clit is so sensitive ........... slapping her ass and forcing her on all fours .........
il give you exactly what you deserve my little whore ........... is that what you want ? as another moan falls from her lips Yes Mistress !!! rolling nails down her back ........ rolling her hand round her hair pulling back so it arches her back ........... your just a little whore arnt you .............. yes yes Mistress .........
as her Mistress leans over her rolling her hands round her breasts ............ pulling her nipples twisting release , as she gasps as her nipple being pulled ....... her Mistress grinding her pelvis into her ass ...........
is this what you want ????
as the final squeal Yes Mistress falls from her lips .......... when you earn it you can have it .....
slapping her ass one final time red raw hand print ........ Your mine and i will do what i want when i please ............. as You wish Mistress Your will is my command ............ rolling her hand round her face and never forget that my little slut !! as her Mistress leaves the room smiling .......
the end
as her hands began to roll round her nipple all the way down to her stomach pulling at her panties snapping it back hard leaving a pink mark on her pelvis ........ as she squeals thank You Mistress .... her Mistress grins grabs a piece near her waist starts to rip off exposing her pink fleshy dripping wet pussy ...........
as her Mistress pushes her foot up against her clit .......... is this what you want slut ?? is this what you want whore ??? ............. as she squeals and bends yes Mistress ......... as her Mistress grins slapping the inside of her thigh pink back handing the other side , she lets out such a squeal ........ all the while saying Thank You Mistress, as it was always such a pleasure to be touch by her ........
her hand moves down to inbetween her legs and slaps her clit hard as it goes vibrating through her , her Mistress staring deep into her eyes filled with nothing but lust
pushes her back so she falls on the floor her legs spread wide as she moans Thank You Mistress mmmmmmmmm , slapping her clit again and again harder as she jumps the more her clit is so sensitive ........... slapping her ass and forcing her on all fours .........
il give you exactly what you deserve my little whore ........... is that what you want ? as another moan falls from her lips Yes Mistress !!! rolling nails down her back ........ rolling her hand round her hair pulling back so it arches her back ........... your just a little whore arnt you .............. yes yes Mistress .........
as her Mistress leans over her rolling her hands round her breasts ............ pulling her nipples twisting release , as she gasps as her nipple being pulled ....... her Mistress grinding her pelvis into her ass ...........
is this what you want ????
as the final squeal Yes Mistress falls from her lips .......... when you earn it you can have it .....
slapping her ass one final time red raw hand print ........ Your mine and i will do what i want when i please ............. as You wish Mistress Your will is my command ............ rolling her hand round her face and never forget that my little slut !! as her Mistress leaves the room smiling .......
the end
Sunday, November 13, 2016
My Confession by Anonymous
My Confessiion
When I see him, my mouth goes dry. The lioness in my belly rises up, clawing, and she begins growling, searching for him, demanding. I reach up, wiping my lower lip with my fingers, glancing away and believing that I've hidden this intensity yet again.
It was as if he planned to look this gorgeous, bathed in the afternoon sun and sitting in my living room. He taunts me with his muscled chest. As his submissive eyes lower, I reach down, cupping his chin and pulling it up directly, commanding his attention to my face.
It's all I can do not to shove my heeled boot into his chest, knocking him backward, stripping his clothing off and taking him right there. In my mind, that's what I'm doing. I'm raping him. I'm ripping his shirt, raising my hand and pummeling that broad expanse of a chest with the back of my hand and unleashing this beast of a dominant woman that must possess him. But on the exterior, my controlled, practice voice only replies, "I see you're here again. Something you wanted? I have little time for you today..." And I release his chin, my palm itching with the need to slap his square jaw, leaving a pulsing, reddened handprint upon it.
The vein on his neck pulses, and he glances away. "I wanted to see you, Miss. I can't stop thinking about you." His voice slightly falters as I drink in his delicious unease. Through the light fabric of his shorts, I can see just a small bit of bulging beginning to appear. The outline of his cock through his shorts. The whole time I turn to walk away, my knees slightly trembling from the effort of restraint, I know his eyes are feasting on the back of my thighs. It is all I can do not to turn around, grab a fistful of his hair and smother his nostrils with the muscles of my inner thighs, so tightly that he cannot breathe while I bring the toe of my boot down and step on his erection.
I pour myself a glass of tea, "I hope you aren't actually admitting to using self-gratuitous thoughts of me to pleasure yourself." Cupping my fingers around the glass, I turn to observe him. His jaw is working with considerable thought on how to answer my question as I lean casually against the counter, idly sipping my drink. I swallow back desire, an ocean of it, crashing over me. With each movement of my arm, bringing the cool tea glass up to my lips, I press it against my hardened, turgid nipples that threaten to reveal the lust that simply will not go away. I add, "Harboring such erotic thoughts about another person without their knowing about it is shameful." The last words leaving my lips that crave his sweet mouth, to drink in his woeful cries as my lash begins to make love to his flesh, extracting from him the dark gasps of euphoria and sacrifice that I alone can inspire.
"It's true, isn't it, boy? You lust for me. And you've been stroking your cock and thinking about me." I level my gaze at him over the clear rim of the glass. I calmly set it down, expelling a warm, calm breath and standing back up, arching my brow at him. His face reddens, and he stumbles over his words. He chuckles, and then his smile fades. In a moment of rare bravery, he looks up, "I want you so badly, Miss. I cannot help my thoughts." At his confession, my own sex responds, a deep bass drum once, pounding, in my belly and making me swell, the fabric of my panties wet as my throat constricts. I could, right now, walk to him, lay hands upon him, press my thumbs into his windpipe and begin to take his very air away... it's how badly I must dominate him. I need to lay upon him, torture his cock, completely envelop him with my body until he drowns, so desperately immersed in my presence that he can no long live apart from me.
I glance at the door.
"Get out of my sight. I said I had no time for you. You may try again... in a few days" His stomach muscles tense, and he rises, pain flashing in his eyes as he meets mine one more time. Sweet, violent pain screams in the back of my head at my own denial, and as he drives away, I watch his car through the window. Turning, I pick up a very expensive glass vase, hoisting it through the air as it shatters in the direction he last walked, dispensing its brokenness across my marbled floor.
"Soon," I say, speaking only that word. Yes. It's not quite time.
But it's coming.
When I see him, my mouth goes dry. The lioness in my belly rises up, clawing, and she begins growling, searching for him, demanding. I reach up, wiping my lower lip with my fingers, glancing away and believing that I've hidden this intensity yet again.
It was as if he planned to look this gorgeous, bathed in the afternoon sun and sitting in my living room. He taunts me with his muscled chest. As his submissive eyes lower, I reach down, cupping his chin and pulling it up directly, commanding his attention to my face.
It's all I can do not to shove my heeled boot into his chest, knocking him backward, stripping his clothing off and taking him right there. In my mind, that's what I'm doing. I'm raping him. I'm ripping his shirt, raising my hand and pummeling that broad expanse of a chest with the back of my hand and unleashing this beast of a dominant woman that must possess him. But on the exterior, my controlled, practice voice only replies, "I see you're here again. Something you wanted? I have little time for you today..." And I release his chin, my palm itching with the need to slap his square jaw, leaving a pulsing, reddened handprint upon it.
The vein on his neck pulses, and he glances away. "I wanted to see you, Miss. I can't stop thinking about you." His voice slightly falters as I drink in his delicious unease. Through the light fabric of his shorts, I can see just a small bit of bulging beginning to appear. The outline of his cock through his shorts. The whole time I turn to walk away, my knees slightly trembling from the effort of restraint, I know his eyes are feasting on the back of my thighs. It is all I can do not to turn around, grab a fistful of his hair and smother his nostrils with the muscles of my inner thighs, so tightly that he cannot breathe while I bring the toe of my boot down and step on his erection.
I pour myself a glass of tea, "I hope you aren't actually admitting to using self-gratuitous thoughts of me to pleasure yourself." Cupping my fingers around the glass, I turn to observe him. His jaw is working with considerable thought on how to answer my question as I lean casually against the counter, idly sipping my drink. I swallow back desire, an ocean of it, crashing over me. With each movement of my arm, bringing the cool tea glass up to my lips, I press it against my hardened, turgid nipples that threaten to reveal the lust that simply will not go away. I add, "Harboring such erotic thoughts about another person without their knowing about it is shameful." The last words leaving my lips that crave his sweet mouth, to drink in his woeful cries as my lash begins to make love to his flesh, extracting from him the dark gasps of euphoria and sacrifice that I alone can inspire.
"It's true, isn't it, boy? You lust for me. And you've been stroking your cock and thinking about me." I level my gaze at him over the clear rim of the glass. I calmly set it down, expelling a warm, calm breath and standing back up, arching my brow at him. His face reddens, and he stumbles over his words. He chuckles, and then his smile fades. In a moment of rare bravery, he looks up, "I want you so badly, Miss. I cannot help my thoughts." At his confession, my own sex responds, a deep bass drum once, pounding, in my belly and making me swell, the fabric of my panties wet as my throat constricts. I could, right now, walk to him, lay hands upon him, press my thumbs into his windpipe and begin to take his very air away... it's how badly I must dominate him. I need to lay upon him, torture his cock, completely envelop him with my body until he drowns, so desperately immersed in my presence that he can no long live apart from me.
I glance at the door.
"Get out of my sight. I said I had no time for you. You may try again... in a few days" His stomach muscles tense, and he rises, pain flashing in his eyes as he meets mine one more time. Sweet, violent pain screams in the back of my head at my own denial, and as he drives away, I watch his car through the window. Turning, I pick up a very expensive glass vase, hoisting it through the air as it shatters in the direction he last walked, dispensing its brokenness across my marbled floor.
"Soon," I say, speaking only that word. Yes. It's not quite time.
But it's coming.
EXTRACTS FROM A DIARY FOUND IN A DUMPSTER by Mark
TITLE: EXTRACTS FROM A DIARY FOUND IN A DUMPSTER
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
12 MARCH
Dear Diary
I have said it before, but it bears repeating: Dommes are easy meat. Tonight I’ll be going to my favourite club. There are always one or two there, dressed in their latex or leather, standing tall in their high-heel shoes, looking disdainfully around the room. Easy meat.
I always approach them the same way. I am ever so humble.
“Please forgive the intrusion. You look so wonderfully domme standing there. Can I buy you a drink?”
Sometimes it is hard not to laugh. – they never know I am dom, until it is too late. Until I have revealed all their broken little dreams, their inner confusions, their need to submit. Easy meat.
I will let you know, diary, how I get on. I know you love to hear how they end up crawling and begging after I’ve thrown them out of bed!
15 MARCH
Dear Diary
I have not written for a couple of days. It seems strange to think it is less than a week since I visited the club. She seemed like all the others. The usual fascination with getting her outfit *just so*. The cool demeanour. The phony confidence when I approached her. It should have gone so well.
OK, to you, dear diary, I admit I was smitten by her more than usual. She was beautiful, and her eyes – her eyes seemed to pierce through the gloomy interior of the club. If I did not know better, I could almost have believed that she saw right through me. For the first time I found myself on my knees. But that is OK, it is all part of the act – after all, I am ever so humble *laugh*.
I am not sure how it happened, but I did not bring her home. It is not that she turned me down – not exactly. But, we parted at the club. I am not quite sure how that worked out. But she took my number, so I guess, dear diary, a pleasure delayed is a pleasure heightened!
19 MARCH
Dear Diary
No calls from her.
So I went to the club again, and she was there. She looked as cool and beautiful as last time. I went over with a drink, but she did not recognise me! To you, dear diary, I admit I was furious. How could she fail to remember me? I said nothing, I was ever so humble. But inside I was seething, and thinking of how I would visit humiliation on her, when it was my turn.
Her gaze is – how can I put it – smoky. It is like being trapped in the headlights of a car in the fog. It is hard to describe. I am not sure why I have not seen her before. It is almost as though that last time was her first visit to the club. But why would a beautiful domme suddenly appear out of the blue that way?
We talked. I found myself on my knees again. How did that happen? I gave her my number again. I am pretty sure she will call now – after all, I was *ever* so humble! *laugh*
21 MARCH
Dear Diary
No calls from her.
I am worried she lost my number. Maybe I wrote it down wrong. It has to be something, or I am sure she would have called by now. They are all the same. Inside, they need a man to be dominant with them. I can’t understand why I have not heard from her. It is probably my cell service – I need to change supplier.
Am already sorting out my outfit for the next club night. Not that I am eager or anything. Just it is always good not to have to rush at the last minute.
26 MARCH
Dear Diary
No calls from her.
I went to the club. She was there. She laughed when I asked her why she had not phoned. I could have ground my teeth, but as ever, I was oh so humble. So I meekly asked why she had suddenly appeared just a couple of weeks ago. She said she was from out of town on a ‘special mission’ and that she had been called in by local domme friends. God, how pretentious. I *know* her local domme friends – I have probably dom’d most of them, *laugh*. But I meekly smiled away, nodding up at her from my kneeling position on the floor. (How did that happen? How did I end up on my knees? It is almost becoming a habit.)
But she did say that next week, after the club, we might play a little. Did I like knives? I almost burst out laughing. “Oh yes”, I said, “knives and I are old friends”.
I admit to you, dear diary, that she is beautiful. It almost seems a shame to think of marring that beauty. But as you know, I am ever so humble, and so have to follow the dictates of my nature!
2 April
Dear Diary
I went to the club. She was not there at first, I was terrified she would not appear. Well, no, not terrified, obviously not. Concerned. Yes, that was it, I was concerned. But eventually she arrived. I brought her drink to her, and found myself on my knees before her again. Somehow, I do not seem to mind that so much with her. I expect that I am just building up the tension for when the tables turn, *laugh*.
She talked again about knives. Did I really not mind? I was ever so humble “Oh no Miss, I love them”. She laughed, and for just a moment I had that same eerie feeling that she could see right through me. I shrugged it off. She said she would visit after the club closed, so I gave her my address, then left early. After all, one always has preparations to make!
2 April, Midnight
Dear Diary
Am waiting for her. The room is set. Her life will never be the same again!
2 April, 1 am
Dear Diary
I can hear her heels on the staircase outside my door. I am waiting behind the door. I admit my heart is pounding.
NEWSPAPER CLIPPING STAPLED TO LAST PAGE OF DIARY
Local man found slain in kinky love-nest!
Mr Gregor Samsa was found slain in his apartment yesterday evening. Neighbours said they had contacted local police services after hearing loud screams emanate from the dwelling. Police said they are baffled by the crime, and by the SM paraphernalia found at the scene. The lead detective said they were especially puzzled by an inscription carved by a knife on the decedent’s chest: ‘I am ever so humble’. At this time, law enforcement officers have no suspects, and it is predicted by sources within the department that the crime will remain unsolved.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
12 MARCH
Dear Diary
I have said it before, but it bears repeating: Dommes are easy meat. Tonight I’ll be going to my favourite club. There are always one or two there, dressed in their latex or leather, standing tall in their high-heel shoes, looking disdainfully around the room. Easy meat.
I always approach them the same way. I am ever so humble.
“Please forgive the intrusion. You look so wonderfully domme standing there. Can I buy you a drink?”
Sometimes it is hard not to laugh. – they never know I am dom, until it is too late. Until I have revealed all their broken little dreams, their inner confusions, their need to submit. Easy meat.
I will let you know, diary, how I get on. I know you love to hear how they end up crawling and begging after I’ve thrown them out of bed!
15 MARCH
Dear Diary
I have not written for a couple of days. It seems strange to think it is less than a week since I visited the club. She seemed like all the others. The usual fascination with getting her outfit *just so*. The cool demeanour. The phony confidence when I approached her. It should have gone so well.
OK, to you, dear diary, I admit I was smitten by her more than usual. She was beautiful, and her eyes – her eyes seemed to pierce through the gloomy interior of the club. If I did not know better, I could almost have believed that she saw right through me. For the first time I found myself on my knees. But that is OK, it is all part of the act – after all, I am ever so humble *laugh*.
I am not sure how it happened, but I did not bring her home. It is not that she turned me down – not exactly. But, we parted at the club. I am not quite sure how that worked out. But she took my number, so I guess, dear diary, a pleasure delayed is a pleasure heightened!
19 MARCH
Dear Diary
No calls from her.
So I went to the club again, and she was there. She looked as cool and beautiful as last time. I went over with a drink, but she did not recognise me! To you, dear diary, I admit I was furious. How could she fail to remember me? I said nothing, I was ever so humble. But inside I was seething, and thinking of how I would visit humiliation on her, when it was my turn.
Her gaze is – how can I put it – smoky. It is like being trapped in the headlights of a car in the fog. It is hard to describe. I am not sure why I have not seen her before. It is almost as though that last time was her first visit to the club. But why would a beautiful domme suddenly appear out of the blue that way?
We talked. I found myself on my knees again. How did that happen? I gave her my number again. I am pretty sure she will call now – after all, I was *ever* so humble! *laugh*
21 MARCH
Dear Diary
No calls from her.
I am worried she lost my number. Maybe I wrote it down wrong. It has to be something, or I am sure she would have called by now. They are all the same. Inside, they need a man to be dominant with them. I can’t understand why I have not heard from her. It is probably my cell service – I need to change supplier.
Am already sorting out my outfit for the next club night. Not that I am eager or anything. Just it is always good not to have to rush at the last minute.
26 MARCH
Dear Diary
No calls from her.
I went to the club. She was there. She laughed when I asked her why she had not phoned. I could have ground my teeth, but as ever, I was oh so humble. So I meekly asked why she had suddenly appeared just a couple of weeks ago. She said she was from out of town on a ‘special mission’ and that she had been called in by local domme friends. God, how pretentious. I *know* her local domme friends – I have probably dom’d most of them, *laugh*. But I meekly smiled away, nodding up at her from my kneeling position on the floor. (How did that happen? How did I end up on my knees? It is almost becoming a habit.)
But she did say that next week, after the club, we might play a little. Did I like knives? I almost burst out laughing. “Oh yes”, I said, “knives and I are old friends”.
I admit to you, dear diary, that she is beautiful. It almost seems a shame to think of marring that beauty. But as you know, I am ever so humble, and so have to follow the dictates of my nature!
2 April
Dear Diary
I went to the club. She was not there at first, I was terrified she would not appear. Well, no, not terrified, obviously not. Concerned. Yes, that was it, I was concerned. But eventually she arrived. I brought her drink to her, and found myself on my knees before her again. Somehow, I do not seem to mind that so much with her. I expect that I am just building up the tension for when the tables turn, *laugh*.
She talked again about knives. Did I really not mind? I was ever so humble “Oh no Miss, I love them”. She laughed, and for just a moment I had that same eerie feeling that she could see right through me. I shrugged it off. She said she would visit after the club closed, so I gave her my address, then left early. After all, one always has preparations to make!
2 April, Midnight
Dear Diary
Am waiting for her. The room is set. Her life will never be the same again!
2 April, 1 am
Dear Diary
I can hear her heels on the staircase outside my door. I am waiting behind the door. I admit my heart is pounding.
NEWSPAPER CLIPPING STAPLED TO LAST PAGE OF DIARY
Local man found slain in kinky love-nest!
Mr Gregor Samsa was found slain in his apartment yesterday evening. Neighbours said they had contacted local police services after hearing loud screams emanate from the dwelling. Police said they are baffled by the crime, and by the SM paraphernalia found at the scene. The lead detective said they were especially puzzled by an inscription carved by a knife on the decedent’s chest: ‘I am ever so humble’. At this time, law enforcement officers have no suspects, and it is predicted by sources within the department that the crime will remain unsolved.
Confession by Julian
Since several years ago a fantasy circulated in my mind, but I did not know how to describe it. Not even it had words to define it.
Everything began with diverse forms of masturbation that I carried out.
I remember sometimes, when I was alone at home, I was aroused with diverse images, mainly women with high heel shoes, dressed leather, or simply naked and heels.
I liked to stay aroused, but, logically, when I masturbated thinking about those images, I reached orgasm soon.
But I noticed also that, specially, I liked to be aroused without getting to reach orgasm.
Little by little I was improving the masturbation technique. Sometimes I worn a condom and I rubbed with the pillow until almost to get the orgasm.
Other times I only rubbed the tip of my penis with two fingers forming a circle, in such way that it stimulated much the nerves of glande, but never arrived at orgasm. Sometimes that technique made me literally crazy.
Nevertheless, the moral thoughts appeared again. Sometimes I thought about myself like I was crazy or that I was doing some wrong, because it was weird to stimulate to myself until almost arriving in the end, but finally not to arrive and to stop. Nevertheless that aroused to me enormously, because it extended to much the time of my erection.
With time I discovered that it had a name: Tease and denial.
Thanks to Second Life I discovered that many women liked so much that practice and it aroused to them enormously. It really turn them on doing that to men.
Later, I discovered another practice, but this time it was necessary to use a device. It was like a cage that was placed in the penis and prevented the erection. The name did not know either.
In the first moments I was scared. That olds thoughts come back, conscience remorses in case I was doing something mistaken.
But, simultaneously, I felt an attraction for that. In the end I dared to buy one of them. CTB 6000 was called.
I have worn at home sometimes, and I have to confess, that although I am scared and I would not like to wear it permanent, yes, I would like to prove it sometimes.
Everything began with diverse forms of masturbation that I carried out.
I remember sometimes, when I was alone at home, I was aroused with diverse images, mainly women with high heel shoes, dressed leather, or simply naked and heels.
I liked to stay aroused, but, logically, when I masturbated thinking about those images, I reached orgasm soon.
But I noticed also that, specially, I liked to be aroused without getting to reach orgasm.
Little by little I was improving the masturbation technique. Sometimes I worn a condom and I rubbed with the pillow until almost to get the orgasm.
Other times I only rubbed the tip of my penis with two fingers forming a circle, in such way that it stimulated much the nerves of glande, but never arrived at orgasm. Sometimes that technique made me literally crazy.
Nevertheless, the moral thoughts appeared again. Sometimes I thought about myself like I was crazy or that I was doing some wrong, because it was weird to stimulate to myself until almost arriving in the end, but finally not to arrive and to stop. Nevertheless that aroused to me enormously, because it extended to much the time of my erection.
With time I discovered that it had a name: Tease and denial.
Thanks to Second Life I discovered that many women liked so much that practice and it aroused to them enormously. It really turn them on doing that to men.
Later, I discovered another practice, but this time it was necessary to use a device. It was like a cage that was placed in the penis and prevented the erection. The name did not know either.
In the first moments I was scared. That olds thoughts come back, conscience remorses in case I was doing something mistaken.
But, simultaneously, I felt an attraction for that. In the end I dared to buy one of them. CTB 6000 was called.
I have worn at home sometimes, and I have to confess, that although I am scared and I would not like to wear it permanent, yes, I would like to prove it sometimes.
Confession by Anonymous
i do have a confession to make .......
im getting married to Mistress in 2 days ........
and my ex Miss even tho she is blocked etc etc
her standing there in the same club close to me does have an effect on me
her being near me has a effect of a urge to just talk to her
or at least be her friend in some way and its hard to just .............
look away and ignore her even if blocked or not
a lot of emotions come up and im not sure what they are
i have been told not to IM her ever again
and shes told me not to contact her etc
but she stands near me and i just want to just
i guess my confession is im thinking about just being her friend but its that or would that be possible
given the circumstaces
i feel so so stuck and trapped
i love my Mistress and im getting married in 2 days
but my ex pulls something in me out badly
and im not sure what it is i just need them to just
im not sure so i guess i confess to thinking about unblocking them and asking them something
i know its wrong and i know i wont do it but the temptation to do it ...... is very great when there in the same room ............
i guess i want that one more night and be done with it but i cant ....... Mistress told me not to IM her again .......
im getting married to Mistress in 2 days ........
and my ex Miss even tho she is blocked etc etc
her standing there in the same club close to me does have an effect on me
her being near me has a effect of a urge to just talk to her
or at least be her friend in some way and its hard to just .............
look away and ignore her even if blocked or not
a lot of emotions come up and im not sure what they are
i have been told not to IM her ever again
and shes told me not to contact her etc
but she stands near me and i just want to just
i guess my confession is im thinking about just being her friend but its that or would that be possible
given the circumstaces
i feel so so stuck and trapped
i love my Mistress and im getting married in 2 days
but my ex pulls something in me out badly
and im not sure what it is i just need them to just
im not sure so i guess i confess to thinking about unblocking them and asking them something
i know its wrong and i know i wont do it but the temptation to do it ...... is very great when there in the same room ............
i guess i want that one more night and be done with it but i cant ....... Mistress told me not to IM her again .......
Autumn Pleasure by Lady Persephone
It's cold, bone chilling drizzle falls unrelentingly, he shivers.
Pale skin becoming translucent as blood flees to vital organs.
Cold bites My finger tips.
Ropes of now berry and leaf bare brambles are coiled at my feet,
It is obvious as to what now must unfold.
The carelessly flung summer leaves bedeck the arbor, sheltered from prying eyes.
Retrieving soft grey leather gloves cast aside to strip the man, I wiggle into their warmth.
Unfurling a spiked length of stem, I begin to weave my pleasure on his flesh.
Pliable, even after first frost, I twirl the fronds around him,
Thorns pressed to cut and bruise that bloodless skin.
Pain dances in his eyes as pupils betray the claw-like pain created by the barbs.
My laugh condenses in the autumnal air.
Cold and pain tussle between his thighs, an elastic drool clinging to erect hairs.
Knowledge that pleasing me is the only reward,
A thousand wounds impressed upon his body
Each one a token of his submission
Carved in love
Received with honour.
Pale skin becoming translucent as blood flees to vital organs.
Cold bites My finger tips.
Ropes of now berry and leaf bare brambles are coiled at my feet,
It is obvious as to what now must unfold.
The carelessly flung summer leaves bedeck the arbor, sheltered from prying eyes.
Retrieving soft grey leather gloves cast aside to strip the man, I wiggle into their warmth.
Unfurling a spiked length of stem, I begin to weave my pleasure on his flesh.
Pliable, even after first frost, I twirl the fronds around him,
Thorns pressed to cut and bruise that bloodless skin.
Pain dances in his eyes as pupils betray the claw-like pain created by the barbs.
My laugh condenses in the autumnal air.
Cold and pain tussle between his thighs, an elastic drool clinging to erect hairs.
Knowledge that pleasing me is the only reward,
A thousand wounds impressed upon his body
Each one a token of his submission
Carved in love
Received with honour.
Monday, September 12, 2016
Love by Anonymous
Love is indeed everything a person is, their very essence, as natural as breathing. It`s sad that most people don`t accept that and try to block it or control it. These same people wonder why there is so much stress, drama and unhappiness in their lives... why they can`t find the right one. It makes it hard for people that do understand, because we give freely, knowing no other way to be and can end up hurt, seemingly sometimes beyond repair. However, love being that it is, is forever growing, adapting and evolving...and the more you give, the more that you get, even if sometimes that means love itself gives back to you to rejuvinate you within and allow you to give more. It`s a beautiful cycle and I wish more people understood it. Life would be a much better place and so much less pain and sickness. The body never lies, it`s the mind and the self conscious of a person that interfere out of fear of rejection and a myriad of other things I imagine.
So many people don`t understand and are so blocked that it is hard to have a deep conversation without having to explain almost everything you think when it comes to love and/or relationships and/or giving/experiencing power exchange. Most anything to do with a human being vulnerable and just giving of themselves on a deeper level than a compliment, a nice night out or a fancy gift. To understand that it`s not the gift itself, but the thought and motivation behind it that mean so much more. You hear people say all the time that it`s the thought that counts, but society has taught a double lesson...one very fake and superficial and one that is true. Sadly most take the fake and superficial because it is less time consuming, takes very little thought and/or effort and it`s expensive, as if money shows your self worth. That way does protect you from being hurt I suppose.
I get so tired of people saying there`s a high bar to pass before they will enter in to something deeper because they`ve been hurt. We`ve all been hurt, but doesn`t it hurt you more to limit your capacity to love? Going back to the never ending cycle of give give back, it truly does take away from you and doesn`t allow for healing or rejuvination. Yet these same people believe they are *protecting* themselves from further pain, when the reality is they are only prolonging the pain they already have and not allowing a natural cleansing to happen. It is not by accident that when someone smiles at you, you smile back. Nor when you hug someone you get hugged back. Your body naturally does these things and I wish more people realized they are as essential as breathing to stay alive. Our bodies are made up of so much more than just the flesh and we have all kinds of natural healing properties if we`d only allow them to be used. When you smile back, you feel good inside naturally, it just happens. That lightens your mood, even if only for a second...in that second, positive energy can flow through you and heal something, or rejuvinate something, or just give you that much more reserve for the person or situation you are going to run into that may need some extra positivity. Same with a hug, and so many other things.
Now, you may wonder what all of that has to do with D/s. Well, in my not so humble opinion, there is no deeper relationship, nor more reason to be absolutely open to your Domme. We've all been hurt, had negative experiences, but if you are to ever heal and get past them, you have to open and reach out...... try again, or you will inevitibly end up in the same hurtful cycle, as that will be all you can draw in. Trust in your Domme to help replace the negatives with positive, healthy things. Grow and flourish, and see just how amazing like can be, and how much better you will feel, not just as a sub, but as a person in every aspect of your life.
So many people don`t understand and are so blocked that it is hard to have a deep conversation without having to explain almost everything you think when it comes to love and/or relationships and/or giving/experiencing power exchange. Most anything to do with a human being vulnerable and just giving of themselves on a deeper level than a compliment, a nice night out or a fancy gift. To understand that it`s not the gift itself, but the thought and motivation behind it that mean so much more. You hear people say all the time that it`s the thought that counts, but society has taught a double lesson...one very fake and superficial and one that is true. Sadly most take the fake and superficial because it is less time consuming, takes very little thought and/or effort and it`s expensive, as if money shows your self worth. That way does protect you from being hurt I suppose.
I get so tired of people saying there`s a high bar to pass before they will enter in to something deeper because they`ve been hurt. We`ve all been hurt, but doesn`t it hurt you more to limit your capacity to love? Going back to the never ending cycle of give give back, it truly does take away from you and doesn`t allow for healing or rejuvination. Yet these same people believe they are *protecting* themselves from further pain, when the reality is they are only prolonging the pain they already have and not allowing a natural cleansing to happen. It is not by accident that when someone smiles at you, you smile back. Nor when you hug someone you get hugged back. Your body naturally does these things and I wish more people realized they are as essential as breathing to stay alive. Our bodies are made up of so much more than just the flesh and we have all kinds of natural healing properties if we`d only allow them to be used. When you smile back, you feel good inside naturally, it just happens. That lightens your mood, even if only for a second...in that second, positive energy can flow through you and heal something, or rejuvinate something, or just give you that much more reserve for the person or situation you are going to run into that may need some extra positivity. Same with a hug, and so many other things.
Now, you may wonder what all of that has to do with D/s. Well, in my not so humble opinion, there is no deeper relationship, nor more reason to be absolutely open to your Domme. We've all been hurt, had negative experiences, but if you are to ever heal and get past them, you have to open and reach out...... try again, or you will inevitibly end up in the same hurtful cycle, as that will be all you can draw in. Trust in your Domme to help replace the negatives with positive, healthy things. Grow and flourish, and see just how amazing like can be, and how much better you will feel, not just as a sub, but as a person in every aspect of your life.
Last Weekend
Last weekend.
We had a very late day on Saturday, but spent a lovely time together in the afternoon and early evening, with Mistress catching up on her soaps whilst I read, and then watching some programs together. It was really so nice to spend vanilla time that way, just being together even though we were doing different things!
Later in the evening, Mistress made me dress as Cynthia, with nail varnish and makeup and wig, and seamed black stockings, heels, black lingerie and the seethru black dress. I had to serve Mistress her meal this way, then sit at the table with her eating our dinner while dressed as Cynthia. It was a really odd experience, and I felt a strange mix of humiliation and submission as we sat there.
A little while after the meal, Mistress took me into the dungeon and blindfolded me and told me to kneel on the spanking stool. I could feel the cool material of the vinyl pads thru the flimsy nylon of my dress as I lay across the stool, and was aware of Mistress moving around me. I felt completely helpless as Mistress grabbed the hem of my dress and shoved it up past my hips then pulled my panties down, and I flinched as I heard her select an implement from the table.
At first, she merely drew the tails of the flogger she had selected across my skin, before whipping me lightly. But then she began to whip slightly harder. For some reason, I was especially sensitive to the pain, perhaps because of the late night the evening before. But I only really became aware of this when Mistress changed toys, and the first blow of the birch made me jump as it landed.
As each blow landed, the pain became worse, and there was only a moment’s respite when Mistress finished, as I could hear her move to the table to select a different toy. The first cane stroke that landed felt like a line of fire on my skin, and I realised I was crying out aloud as each stroke landed.
Eventually, the blows finished, but I could feel Mistress’s hands on me as she pulled my knickers further down, and then became aware of the tip of her cock pressing against me. There was nowhere for me to squirm to as the vinyl pads of the stool were pressing against me, and I moaned as Mistress’s cock began to slide in and out of my pussy.
I became hyper aware of the feel of the nylon of the dress against my skin and the tug of the suspenders on my stocking tops as each thrust of Mistress’s cock pushed me further down onto the stool and could not withhold a gasp as she roughly pushed her cock all the way inside me. After a while she stopped, and I heard her move around to my head.
She pulled the blindfold off and for a moment I could not see in the glare of the light, then I saw that she was holding the black cock in her hand. ‘Do you want this in your pussy or in your mouth’ she asked. I begged to be allowed to take the cock in my mouth and she laughed and asked why, and I had to admit it was too big for me. She laughed again and told me to start sucking, and again waves of helplessness washed over me as I closed my lips around the head of the cock and started to suck on it. Mistress shoved it deeper into my mouth and then began to slide it in and out and my mind flashed back to some of her stories on Sl where she told me that she would train me to suck cock and then force me to pleasure other men while she watched.
When she stopped, she pulled my head up and asked me if I wanted to safeword. When I said ‘no’, she laughed again, and selected another cane and started beating me again. The pain seemed more intense than ever, but even though I was crying out by this time, Mistress ignored me and the blows continued until finally there was a momentary pause. But then I realised this was just to give Mistress time to select the strapon, and I moaned even more loudly as I felt its tip pressing against my pussy again.
As Mistress began to rape me, I think I was only half aware of the moaning sounds I was making. By now I was deep in subspace and felt my body beginning to automatically respond to each thrust of Mistress’s cock as it shoved up inside me. After a while, Mistress pushed her cock all the way into me and left it there, and began to cane me again. It felt utterly submissive to have Mistress’s cock buried deep inside me while she caned me, and it took me some moments to comply when Mistress told me to stand.
By this time I was blindfolded again and was totally disoriented. Mistress led me across the room, and ordered me to my knees. I could sense that she was sitting before me, and then she told me to lick her clit. It was such an incredibly erotic experience for me to run my tongue over Mistress’s clit,
.After what seemed like all too short a time, Mistress made me get up and led me back to the stool, still blindfolded, and told me to sit. After a long pause, I heard a rustling sound and then gasped as a polythene bag was pulled over my head. Mistress tightened it and I could feel myself straining to get enough air, and could feel the material of the bad moving in and out with each breath. Finally Mistress relented and pulled the bag from my head, and told me the play session was over.
I was allowed to dress, and we spent the rest of the evening together in front of the TV. After what had seemed to me a strenuous play session, although Mistress later told me she had not been too hard on me, it was wonderful just to sit on the sofa together. But I think the session had affected us both, and that night in bed Mistress said that she was horny now, even though it was very late.
She allowed me to watch her use the vibrator and to rub myself while I watched. After she had cum twice, Mistress allowed me to kneel between her legs as she used the vibrator again. Just being in that position made my cock even harder, and Mistress told me to press it to her cunt while she used the vibrator. It was so, so exciting for me to feel the warmth of her cunt against the tip of my cock thru the flimsy material of her panties. And that, plus the sound of the vibrator on her clit, made me cum almost immediately, just before Mistress herself came for the third and final time.
Eventually, we both fell asleep exhausted. But just before sleep overcame me, I spent a little bit of time thinking on how lucky I am that Mistress has taken my collar and how grateful I am that she was willing to give up an entire weekend to spend time with me. I know how exhausting the working week is, and it is a really long journey up here. So I lay counting my blessings and looking forward to spending some time on Sunday with Mistress, before she had to get her train home again. I loved our play so much, but I equally treasure our vanilla time where we can just be together.
We had a very late day on Saturday, but spent a lovely time together in the afternoon and early evening, with Mistress catching up on her soaps whilst I read, and then watching some programs together. It was really so nice to spend vanilla time that way, just being together even though we were doing different things!
Later in the evening, Mistress made me dress as Cynthia, with nail varnish and makeup and wig, and seamed black stockings, heels, black lingerie and the seethru black dress. I had to serve Mistress her meal this way, then sit at the table with her eating our dinner while dressed as Cynthia. It was a really odd experience, and I felt a strange mix of humiliation and submission as we sat there.
A little while after the meal, Mistress took me into the dungeon and blindfolded me and told me to kneel on the spanking stool. I could feel the cool material of the vinyl pads thru the flimsy nylon of my dress as I lay across the stool, and was aware of Mistress moving around me. I felt completely helpless as Mistress grabbed the hem of my dress and shoved it up past my hips then pulled my panties down, and I flinched as I heard her select an implement from the table.
At first, she merely drew the tails of the flogger she had selected across my skin, before whipping me lightly. But then she began to whip slightly harder. For some reason, I was especially sensitive to the pain, perhaps because of the late night the evening before. But I only really became aware of this when Mistress changed toys, and the first blow of the birch made me jump as it landed.
As each blow landed, the pain became worse, and there was only a moment’s respite when Mistress finished, as I could hear her move to the table to select a different toy. The first cane stroke that landed felt like a line of fire on my skin, and I realised I was crying out aloud as each stroke landed.
Eventually, the blows finished, but I could feel Mistress’s hands on me as she pulled my knickers further down, and then became aware of the tip of her cock pressing against me. There was nowhere for me to squirm to as the vinyl pads of the stool were pressing against me, and I moaned as Mistress’s cock began to slide in and out of my pussy.
I became hyper aware of the feel of the nylon of the dress against my skin and the tug of the suspenders on my stocking tops as each thrust of Mistress’s cock pushed me further down onto the stool and could not withhold a gasp as she roughly pushed her cock all the way inside me. After a while she stopped, and I heard her move around to my head.
She pulled the blindfold off and for a moment I could not see in the glare of the light, then I saw that she was holding the black cock in her hand. ‘Do you want this in your pussy or in your mouth’ she asked. I begged to be allowed to take the cock in my mouth and she laughed and asked why, and I had to admit it was too big for me. She laughed again and told me to start sucking, and again waves of helplessness washed over me as I closed my lips around the head of the cock and started to suck on it. Mistress shoved it deeper into my mouth and then began to slide it in and out and my mind flashed back to some of her stories on Sl where she told me that she would train me to suck cock and then force me to pleasure other men while she watched.
When she stopped, she pulled my head up and asked me if I wanted to safeword. When I said ‘no’, she laughed again, and selected another cane and started beating me again. The pain seemed more intense than ever, but even though I was crying out by this time, Mistress ignored me and the blows continued until finally there was a momentary pause. But then I realised this was just to give Mistress time to select the strapon, and I moaned even more loudly as I felt its tip pressing against my pussy again.
As Mistress began to rape me, I think I was only half aware of the moaning sounds I was making. By now I was deep in subspace and felt my body beginning to automatically respond to each thrust of Mistress’s cock as it shoved up inside me. After a while, Mistress pushed her cock all the way into me and left it there, and began to cane me again. It felt utterly submissive to have Mistress’s cock buried deep inside me while she caned me, and it took me some moments to comply when Mistress told me to stand.
By this time I was blindfolded again and was totally disoriented. Mistress led me across the room, and ordered me to my knees. I could sense that she was sitting before me, and then she told me to lick her clit. It was such an incredibly erotic experience for me to run my tongue over Mistress’s clit,
.After what seemed like all too short a time, Mistress made me get up and led me back to the stool, still blindfolded, and told me to sit. After a long pause, I heard a rustling sound and then gasped as a polythene bag was pulled over my head. Mistress tightened it and I could feel myself straining to get enough air, and could feel the material of the bad moving in and out with each breath. Finally Mistress relented and pulled the bag from my head, and told me the play session was over.
I was allowed to dress, and we spent the rest of the evening together in front of the TV. After what had seemed to me a strenuous play session, although Mistress later told me she had not been too hard on me, it was wonderful just to sit on the sofa together. But I think the session had affected us both, and that night in bed Mistress said that she was horny now, even though it was very late.
She allowed me to watch her use the vibrator and to rub myself while I watched. After she had cum twice, Mistress allowed me to kneel between her legs as she used the vibrator again. Just being in that position made my cock even harder, and Mistress told me to press it to her cunt while she used the vibrator. It was so, so exciting for me to feel the warmth of her cunt against the tip of my cock thru the flimsy material of her panties. And that, plus the sound of the vibrator on her clit, made me cum almost immediately, just before Mistress herself came for the third and final time.
Eventually, we both fell asleep exhausted. But just before sleep overcame me, I spent a little bit of time thinking on how lucky I am that Mistress has taken my collar and how grateful I am that she was willing to give up an entire weekend to spend time with me. I know how exhausting the working week is, and it is a really long journey up here. So I lay counting my blessings and looking forward to spending some time on Sunday with Mistress, before she had to get her train home again. I loved our play so much, but I equally treasure our vanilla time where we can just be together.
Fan Fiction by Anonymous
FanFiction
I do not get gooey over famous people, it's just not me, but one character in film brings out the Domme in me. It's like reading a book and empathising or lusting over one character, or watching in the shadows ready to pounce at the first opportune moment. It wasn't even my choice of film when this comic book character first stirred something in me.
I am not going to dissect the reasons of why I respond how I do, I'll leave that to the listener, they can prod my lust with their own reasoning.
It was his lips that did it for me, almost feminine in his otherwise all male body and brooding darkness.
I wanted to hear those lips beg, for pain, for pleasure, for release, but never for mercy.
I wanted those lips, everywhere.
Mouth enclosing as much of my red painted toes that would fit in that perfect orifice.
Closing around swollen nipple tips, suckling until my clitoris blossoms and demanded those lips to feed me pleasure, belly aching pleasure that drowns all other senses.
I can imagine him now as I write, my cunt damp and yearning; an illusion, an impossibility, a fantasy built on lips and a leather clad masculine strength.
There are other things I desire to carve into his psyche, his body, his comic book being.
Before this fantasy unfolds of one thing be certain the actor who plays this character holds no interest to me whatsoever.
................................................
The Fantasy
His life consists of a bare cool cell buried deep under the ground or on occasions in the laboratory where he has been programmed to perform dastardly deeds in the name of freedom. A process that has taken decades of dedication, an unaging mortal of murderous, monstrous power.
I am privileged to assist in this vast maze of rooms dedicated to espionage, I was recruited after accidentally taking a play session a little too far – as in a dead playmate too far. But this ability to misjudge a situation was just what this organisation was looking for in its employees and I've never looked back.
I have the luxury of feeding my rather extreme sexual predilections without drawing too much attention to myself, another corpse among so many others barely raises an eyebrow.
This man, this creature, raises a growl in my throat each time I see him, smell him, sense his presence.
It's a problem, my needs are neatly kept beyond my place of work and this has never been a problem – until now.
I'm standing just inside the laboratory, he's here, alone, semi naked, shackled to the medical bed in a sitting position. I stand immobile, breath held, fighting my inner urges.........
I whimper, his eyes flicker open and he stares at me uncomprehendingly, but I want him to understand , I want him to know, I what to carve the knowledge of my lust on his torso.
A wry smile parts my lips, slipping out of every stitch of clothing, leaving them discarded on the concrete floor I pad towards him, his eyes are still barren of emotion, just a vague perplexity that puckers his lips– I want those lips.
He's completely immobile, that excites me.
He's scarred and marred, that excites me.
He's hard as fuck itself, that excites me.
I give no fuck that his head doesn't compute what is about to happen.
I want his cock in me while I play, I want to rotate and grind, rise and fall, lather him in my demonic desires.
My cunt is slippery, swimming with power and persuasion, I hide his phallus in my pulsating vagina pumping him with my muscles.
Satisfied I am full, my attention turns to him, his lips.
I want to stitch his eyelids closed, I want to fill his ears with his own semen, I want...I want...I want....
Nostrils flared I kiss him sucking the air from his lungs, storming it back into him. Nipping, biting, tearing at his tongue, probing gums and flossing his teeth with his own blood.
I want, I want , I want
Crushing full breasts on his chest, sliding nipple over nipple, his hard muscle to my soft flesh.
At the point,.... you know the point where 20,00 nerve endings from belly down scream for orgasm, designed for pleasure and cannot be denied that pleasure.
Tearing his flesh with talons, eating the blooded flakes of skin as they separate from his body, feed morsels to him, the blood lip-sticking those lips that stir each of my senses.
Orgasm – scalp tingling, body convulsing, howling demonically, teeth clamped on his lower lip until it bursts, the flowering of my passion, my desire, my ravenous appetites.
I rise off him a river of fluid dripping down my thigh.
Dab the blood off him in a vain attempt to cover my lust.
Return his cock to his trousers.
Gather my clothes, ripples of orgasm still echoing in my belly.
I dress.
Turn to observe the restrained man.
He still stares, wide eyed and empty.
Fists clenching...unclenching......clenching....unclenching
As my cunt clenches....unclenches...clenches...unclenches
I do not get gooey over famous people, it's just not me, but one character in film brings out the Domme in me. It's like reading a book and empathising or lusting over one character, or watching in the shadows ready to pounce at the first opportune moment. It wasn't even my choice of film when this comic book character first stirred something in me.
I am not going to dissect the reasons of why I respond how I do, I'll leave that to the listener, they can prod my lust with their own reasoning.
It was his lips that did it for me, almost feminine in his otherwise all male body and brooding darkness.
I wanted to hear those lips beg, for pain, for pleasure, for release, but never for mercy.
I wanted those lips, everywhere.
Mouth enclosing as much of my red painted toes that would fit in that perfect orifice.
Closing around swollen nipple tips, suckling until my clitoris blossoms and demanded those lips to feed me pleasure, belly aching pleasure that drowns all other senses.
I can imagine him now as I write, my cunt damp and yearning; an illusion, an impossibility, a fantasy built on lips and a leather clad masculine strength.
There are other things I desire to carve into his psyche, his body, his comic book being.
Before this fantasy unfolds of one thing be certain the actor who plays this character holds no interest to me whatsoever.
................................................
The Fantasy
His life consists of a bare cool cell buried deep under the ground or on occasions in the laboratory where he has been programmed to perform dastardly deeds in the name of freedom. A process that has taken decades of dedication, an unaging mortal of murderous, monstrous power.
I am privileged to assist in this vast maze of rooms dedicated to espionage, I was recruited after accidentally taking a play session a little too far – as in a dead playmate too far. But this ability to misjudge a situation was just what this organisation was looking for in its employees and I've never looked back.
I have the luxury of feeding my rather extreme sexual predilections without drawing too much attention to myself, another corpse among so many others barely raises an eyebrow.
This man, this creature, raises a growl in my throat each time I see him, smell him, sense his presence.
It's a problem, my needs are neatly kept beyond my place of work and this has never been a problem – until now.
I'm standing just inside the laboratory, he's here, alone, semi naked, shackled to the medical bed in a sitting position. I stand immobile, breath held, fighting my inner urges.........
I whimper, his eyes flicker open and he stares at me uncomprehendingly, but I want him to understand , I want him to know, I what to carve the knowledge of my lust on his torso.
A wry smile parts my lips, slipping out of every stitch of clothing, leaving them discarded on the concrete floor I pad towards him, his eyes are still barren of emotion, just a vague perplexity that puckers his lips– I want those lips.
He's completely immobile, that excites me.
He's scarred and marred, that excites me.
He's hard as fuck itself, that excites me.
I give no fuck that his head doesn't compute what is about to happen.
I want his cock in me while I play, I want to rotate and grind, rise and fall, lather him in my demonic desires.
My cunt is slippery, swimming with power and persuasion, I hide his phallus in my pulsating vagina pumping him with my muscles.
Satisfied I am full, my attention turns to him, his lips.
I want to stitch his eyelids closed, I want to fill his ears with his own semen, I want...I want...I want....
Nostrils flared I kiss him sucking the air from his lungs, storming it back into him. Nipping, biting, tearing at his tongue, probing gums and flossing his teeth with his own blood.
I want, I want , I want
Crushing full breasts on his chest, sliding nipple over nipple, his hard muscle to my soft flesh.
At the point,.... you know the point where 20,00 nerve endings from belly down scream for orgasm, designed for pleasure and cannot be denied that pleasure.
Tearing his flesh with talons, eating the blooded flakes of skin as they separate from his body, feed morsels to him, the blood lip-sticking those lips that stir each of my senses.
Orgasm – scalp tingling, body convulsing, howling demonically, teeth clamped on his lower lip until it bursts, the flowering of my passion, my desire, my ravenous appetites.
I rise off him a river of fluid dripping down my thigh.
Dab the blood off him in a vain attempt to cover my lust.
Return his cock to his trousers.
Gather my clothes, ripples of orgasm still echoing in my belly.
I dress.
Turn to observe the restrained man.
He still stares, wide eyed and empty.
Fists clenching...unclenching......clenching....unclenching
As my cunt clenches....unclenches...clenches...unclenches
Mark by Lady Karrie
My Love
Mark
"Not a red rose or a satin heart.
I give you an onion."
It is difficult to avoid the lure of tired clichés of love
Every time I bid to write they tempt me
But how shall I tell you of the love we share
When others declare theirs in such poetic stanzas
Shall I speak of my delight at your deepening acts of submission?
Your service often unasked for. Tendered modestly to please
Takes my breath away
Here. An Onion
"It will blind you with tears
I am trying to be truthful."
As I place you before me and draw my cane towards trembling skin.
Delighting in your discomfort.. Your rapt concentration to remain still.
But you cant.
You jump. I reposition. Strike harder.
You scream. I laugh.not with you, But at you.
Place my hand across your throat and squeeze.
"I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are."
Shall I write of how magnificent you are? Kneeling.
Eyes replete with tears. Of how utterly stunning your love is.
Of how your devotion humbles me. Your beauty inspires and
Your attention to the smallest detail to ensure I am pleased.
Simply enchants. My cunt.
My Love. Here. An onion.
"Take it. It's platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring,"
Our love tastes like strawberries and ice cream. Giggling together. Sparkling.dancing.
Teenagers again you and I. Talking nothings and everything till early dawn.
Gentle echoes of youth uplifting us to immortals.
Its perfume lies in the richest stickiest caramel chocolate. Seductive alluring .Capturing and enclosing us within its potent shroud of pain. .I can and will destroy in there.
Come worship My love. My Cunt.
For mines is the kingdom and the glory.
"An onion
if you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your skin "
as my knife glistens
All my life Mark. It was you.
Mark
"Not a red rose or a satin heart.
I give you an onion."
It is difficult to avoid the lure of tired clichés of love
Every time I bid to write they tempt me
But how shall I tell you of the love we share
When others declare theirs in such poetic stanzas
Shall I speak of my delight at your deepening acts of submission?
Your service often unasked for. Tendered modestly to please
Takes my breath away
Here. An Onion
"It will blind you with tears
I am trying to be truthful."
As I place you before me and draw my cane towards trembling skin.
Delighting in your discomfort.. Your rapt concentration to remain still.
But you cant.
You jump. I reposition. Strike harder.
You scream. I laugh.not with you, But at you.
Place my hand across your throat and squeeze.
"I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are."
Shall I write of how magnificent you are? Kneeling.
Eyes replete with tears. Of how utterly stunning your love is.
Of how your devotion humbles me. Your beauty inspires and
Your attention to the smallest detail to ensure I am pleased.
Simply enchants. My cunt.
My Love. Here. An onion.
"Take it. It's platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring,"
Our love tastes like strawberries and ice cream. Giggling together. Sparkling.dancing.
Teenagers again you and I. Talking nothings and everything till early dawn.
Gentle echoes of youth uplifting us to immortals.
Its perfume lies in the richest stickiest caramel chocolate. Seductive alluring .Capturing and enclosing us within its potent shroud of pain. .I can and will destroy in there.
Come worship My love. My Cunt.
For mines is the kingdom and the glory.
"An onion
if you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your skin "
as my knife glistens
All my life Mark. It was you.
My Reason by Anonymous
I think about you and I think about your mouth on my pussy. I think about you and I think about my hand on your cock. I think about you and my mouth waters and my pussy swells and moistens. I think about you and my mind wanders to things I would do with or to you if you were here....
...Smiling wide I greet you happily but wordlessly. I am so happy to see you. My body reacts to the mere presence of you. My skin bumps, my nipples harden. I naturally lean my hardened pink mounds in your direction hoping your mouth will find it’s way to them. All of this happens without any thought on my part.. My natural reaction to you.
Stepping closer to you I smile wider and lean in to kiss you. I run my hands up along the sides of your face and draw your mouth to mine. I part my lips slightly, opening my teeth and allowing my tongue to dart out to touch your lips and move deeper into the crevice of your warm waiting mouth. My tongue dances along your teeth and searches for your tongue as a soft moan of excitement bubbles out of my throat. My lips press harder against yours wanting to bruise yours and feel yours bruise mine. I subconsciously want to mark you as mine with my mouth. I want the world to see that you have been on my lips as well. I want to show you off so everyone knows the prize I have been given...you.
My heart beat quickens and the swelling and moisture between my legs intensifies. Another moan escapes my throat, this one longer, deeper, more guttural. The vocalization of my longing for you. My longing to have you touch my body. My longing to touch your body. My hands move now through your hair, down along the line of your jaw. My fingers trace the line of your lips. They claw tenderly at your lips while mine still cover them pulling you closer to me. My hands wander some more around your jaw line, around your ears rubbing your earlobes absently and massaging your neck and shoulders so I can feel your muscles move and stretch as you respond to my fervent kisses. My hands move more now down over your arms pulling you around my waist and pressing your hands firmly on my ass. Your heat sears into my ass and I gasp slightly pulling away from your lips no longer than the blink of an eye before returning to them before they could feel my presence missing. With renewed vigor I press harder into your lips and my hands return to your hair and press your head into mine moving my mouth over your lips from side to side. Licking and kissing you and pulling each of your lips inside my mouth, one at a time so I can nibble and taste them. My heart is now beating fast and my nipples ache to have you touch them and poke through all the layers of material, so hard now that they actually hurt. I smile inwardly at the lovely hurt that you cause in me.
My hands now move down your body pulling at your shirt. The buttons holding the material between you and I give way happily as I open them each with agile, hungry fingers. I run my fingers nimbly over your chest feeling your hairs tickle me before I reach your hardened nipples. Your nipples are taut as mine and the thought of your excitement spurs me on. Still kissing you I run my fingers over each of your nipples barely grazing them at first them stopping and running my fingertip over and around the perimeter of each taut tip. My own excitement mounts and I feel moisture rush again to my loins. I grab at your hand and thrust it between my legs to show you the heat you instill in me. My eyes close as I feel your fingers wrap under my mound and hold me tight pressing your fingers up to toy with me playfully.
I pull your shirt wider now and take my lips from yours looking into your eyes for a moment before lowering my head to your nipple. My tongue darts out to meet your nipple and a soft moan again escapes my lips as I see your nipple jump. I smile happily and dive my mouth first to one nipple then the other licking and kissing before biting into each nipple playfully. I suck the nipple and the surrounding flesh into my mouth threatening to mark each one. I pull back and smirk softly as I look into your eyes again. I return my mouth to yours and kiss you hard once again.
I reach now down your chest. Down over your hips and grab at your pants. I deftly pull at your pants and open them without a struggle, almost as if they wanted to be opened? Smiling to myself my mouth waters some more at the thought of your cock and I pull your fly wide open. I breathe in a deep breath as I feel your hardened cock wiggle up as if reaching for the freedom of the world. Reaching in one more time I pull your cock free of your underwear and the heat of your shaft on my hand sends a wave of electricity through me. Sliding my hands inside your underwear I pull them wide releasing your cock to feel the air. Smiling happily I look down at your cock, admiring it, loving it for the undeniable proof it is of the affect I have on you.
You gasp slightly and resign yourself to what you know must happen next. Slowly you begin to move to your knees. You know this is expected of you. You don't need to be told. Settling onto your knees, the way you know I like, makes me inhale sharply and hold my breath. I look down at you and watch you widen your legs letting me have perfect view of you. You know the effect you have on me, the effect you have when I see you this way. Open and exposed to me , revealed and ready. Your cock alert and mine. Affected by me in the same way I am affected by you. This primal connection between us so palpable at times. This is why I miss you when you are not with me. This is why I long for you. The electricity between us ignites me, fuels me. The way you give yourself to me is what feeds me. You are what makes me feel the most alive.
You press your head to my thigh and close your eyes, I can feel the flutter of your eyelashes against my skin as you do and you sigh and I know we both feel the reconnection happening. We share this moment a lot. We need this ritual each time we are apart. My hand moves to your head like a touchstone and I caress your hair and scalp and you sigh again. I have come to live for that sigh. That release. That audible surrender. You. Are mine.
...Smiling wide I greet you happily but wordlessly. I am so happy to see you. My body reacts to the mere presence of you. My skin bumps, my nipples harden. I naturally lean my hardened pink mounds in your direction hoping your mouth will find it’s way to them. All of this happens without any thought on my part.. My natural reaction to you.
Stepping closer to you I smile wider and lean in to kiss you. I run my hands up along the sides of your face and draw your mouth to mine. I part my lips slightly, opening my teeth and allowing my tongue to dart out to touch your lips and move deeper into the crevice of your warm waiting mouth. My tongue dances along your teeth and searches for your tongue as a soft moan of excitement bubbles out of my throat. My lips press harder against yours wanting to bruise yours and feel yours bruise mine. I subconsciously want to mark you as mine with my mouth. I want the world to see that you have been on my lips as well. I want to show you off so everyone knows the prize I have been given...you.
My heart beat quickens and the swelling and moisture between my legs intensifies. Another moan escapes my throat, this one longer, deeper, more guttural. The vocalization of my longing for you. My longing to have you touch my body. My longing to touch your body. My hands move now through your hair, down along the line of your jaw. My fingers trace the line of your lips. They claw tenderly at your lips while mine still cover them pulling you closer to me. My hands wander some more around your jaw line, around your ears rubbing your earlobes absently and massaging your neck and shoulders so I can feel your muscles move and stretch as you respond to my fervent kisses. My hands move more now down over your arms pulling you around my waist and pressing your hands firmly on my ass. Your heat sears into my ass and I gasp slightly pulling away from your lips no longer than the blink of an eye before returning to them before they could feel my presence missing. With renewed vigor I press harder into your lips and my hands return to your hair and press your head into mine moving my mouth over your lips from side to side. Licking and kissing you and pulling each of your lips inside my mouth, one at a time so I can nibble and taste them. My heart is now beating fast and my nipples ache to have you touch them and poke through all the layers of material, so hard now that they actually hurt. I smile inwardly at the lovely hurt that you cause in me.
My hands now move down your body pulling at your shirt. The buttons holding the material between you and I give way happily as I open them each with agile, hungry fingers. I run my fingers nimbly over your chest feeling your hairs tickle me before I reach your hardened nipples. Your nipples are taut as mine and the thought of your excitement spurs me on. Still kissing you I run my fingers over each of your nipples barely grazing them at first them stopping and running my fingertip over and around the perimeter of each taut tip. My own excitement mounts and I feel moisture rush again to my loins. I grab at your hand and thrust it between my legs to show you the heat you instill in me. My eyes close as I feel your fingers wrap under my mound and hold me tight pressing your fingers up to toy with me playfully.
I pull your shirt wider now and take my lips from yours looking into your eyes for a moment before lowering my head to your nipple. My tongue darts out to meet your nipple and a soft moan again escapes my lips as I see your nipple jump. I smile happily and dive my mouth first to one nipple then the other licking and kissing before biting into each nipple playfully. I suck the nipple and the surrounding flesh into my mouth threatening to mark each one. I pull back and smirk softly as I look into your eyes again. I return my mouth to yours and kiss you hard once again.
I reach now down your chest. Down over your hips and grab at your pants. I deftly pull at your pants and open them without a struggle, almost as if they wanted to be opened? Smiling to myself my mouth waters some more at the thought of your cock and I pull your fly wide open. I breathe in a deep breath as I feel your hardened cock wiggle up as if reaching for the freedom of the world. Reaching in one more time I pull your cock free of your underwear and the heat of your shaft on my hand sends a wave of electricity through me. Sliding my hands inside your underwear I pull them wide releasing your cock to feel the air. Smiling happily I look down at your cock, admiring it, loving it for the undeniable proof it is of the affect I have on you.
You gasp slightly and resign yourself to what you know must happen next. Slowly you begin to move to your knees. You know this is expected of you. You don't need to be told. Settling onto your knees, the way you know I like, makes me inhale sharply and hold my breath. I look down at you and watch you widen your legs letting me have perfect view of you. You know the effect you have on me, the effect you have when I see you this way. Open and exposed to me , revealed and ready. Your cock alert and mine. Affected by me in the same way I am affected by you. This primal connection between us so palpable at times. This is why I miss you when you are not with me. This is why I long for you. The electricity between us ignites me, fuels me. The way you give yourself to me is what feeds me. You are what makes me feel the most alive.
You press your head to my thigh and close your eyes, I can feel the flutter of your eyelashes against my skin as you do and you sigh and I know we both feel the reconnection happening. We share this moment a lot. We need this ritual each time we are apart. My hand moves to your head like a touchstone and I caress your hair and scalp and you sigh again. I have come to live for that sigh. That release. That audible surrender. You. Are mine.
No One Notices by Anonymous
I spent months debating if I should ever submit this, but then one night another submissive spoke with me. His concerns reflected my own and I felt this needed to be shared so that others who could not speak had a voice. Maybe my confession will help another and maybe they will find sanctuary in those around them as I have not. Either way I hope anyone feeling like this knows they are not alone.
People always talk about dominance/submission and vanilla relationships as if there is a clearly defined line, but rarely is it spoken about what happens when the path that you once followed no longer feels right. I have been on my knee's since I first stumbled across the idea of BDSM and long before I had a name for the feelings inside. It was never a struggle for me as it felt right. She simply had to smile and everything in the world became focused and clear. I never worried about right and wrong as my faith in her word was absolute and clear. My direction and focus had a purpose and in serving I experienced a lightness that some refer to as freedom but for me was like finding square hole for my square peg.
No one prepares you for what it's like to one day be thrown back into the world on your own when for so long you have known only thing. It's not just letting go of a person or an idea of a relationship but a complete starting over and a piece of you is now gone. When you give that much of yourself to another there is not much left when that person is no longer there. You go through your days slowly learning how to be you once more, but a different you then you were or ever knew before. Suddenly you are making decisions and being forced back into a "vanilla" way of life to which you have not been accustomed. It's not just hurt or rejection, but it's like finding pieces of a puzzle you have no picture for and you are different after that whether you want to be or not. It's like the loss of a first love, but more a loss of yourself.
You find you way back to a new you but a bit more guarded. Eventually someone else comes along. That is the way of things and it's not the same as it was before but how could it be? Not worse, not better, just different. Once more you say here I am, here is all of me knowing there is an innocence to yourself lost. You find a different way of being beneath their guidance. Believing in words of adoration, trusting in their promises, finding faith in all the time you are together until one day it ends abruptly, harshly, and without warning. You discover you have been nothing more then an online distraction when you thought you were building a life.
I am not shattered, I am destroyed. And though I find once more I can move on something is not the same. I am not the same. Suddenly kneeling is a struggle, using honorrifics leaves a bad taste in my mouth, forcing myself to respond how I know I am supposed to when inside something is screaming slowly leads to depression. So I take time to try and recover and every now and then a spark rekindles and reminds me of that feeling of letting go. Only now I hit a wall that was never there before. I can't push past it. At first I was left just wondering if I am more guarded, but it's something deeper and a heavyness settles in. What if I gave so much there is nothing left anymore? Is there a line where a person can be pushed too far to ever recover from? Places that seemed like home, people I felt were family I cannot bring myself to go to or be around. The mere idea of ever serving someone causes my muscles to tense up and I am shaken to my very core. Can a submissive be broken to the point where they can no longer submit anymore?
If you had asked me this years ago I would have laughed at the very idea that something so internal could ever be damaged in such a way. Yet today I am left with no other explanation. No one ever talks about this moment and those around are in these longterm successful relationships or so new this concept is beyond them. The loneliness gets longer and deeper. I never say anything because who would ever understand that what was once so natural now leaves me fighting for my very breath. I am at a crossroads and there is no path that makes sense anymore. The idea of just giving up and having a life where D/s plays no part tears more of my soul apart, but the concept of ever handing over the reigns gives me a cold sweat. People have told me it takes time, but it has been a long time and nothing is changing. If anything it's getting worse. I know better then anyone that time does not heal all. I have never felt so alone, so scared, and so at a point of losing an essential part of who I am or was or maybe still am. I still look around and the hardest part is no one seems to really notice I am not the same.
People always talk about dominance/submission and vanilla relationships as if there is a clearly defined line, but rarely is it spoken about what happens when the path that you once followed no longer feels right. I have been on my knee's since I first stumbled across the idea of BDSM and long before I had a name for the feelings inside. It was never a struggle for me as it felt right. She simply had to smile and everything in the world became focused and clear. I never worried about right and wrong as my faith in her word was absolute and clear. My direction and focus had a purpose and in serving I experienced a lightness that some refer to as freedom but for me was like finding square hole for my square peg.
No one prepares you for what it's like to one day be thrown back into the world on your own when for so long you have known only thing. It's not just letting go of a person or an idea of a relationship but a complete starting over and a piece of you is now gone. When you give that much of yourself to another there is not much left when that person is no longer there. You go through your days slowly learning how to be you once more, but a different you then you were or ever knew before. Suddenly you are making decisions and being forced back into a "vanilla" way of life to which you have not been accustomed. It's not just hurt or rejection, but it's like finding pieces of a puzzle you have no picture for and you are different after that whether you want to be or not. It's like the loss of a first love, but more a loss of yourself.
You find you way back to a new you but a bit more guarded. Eventually someone else comes along. That is the way of things and it's not the same as it was before but how could it be? Not worse, not better, just different. Once more you say here I am, here is all of me knowing there is an innocence to yourself lost. You find a different way of being beneath their guidance. Believing in words of adoration, trusting in their promises, finding faith in all the time you are together until one day it ends abruptly, harshly, and without warning. You discover you have been nothing more then an online distraction when you thought you were building a life.
I am not shattered, I am destroyed. And though I find once more I can move on something is not the same. I am not the same. Suddenly kneeling is a struggle, using honorrifics leaves a bad taste in my mouth, forcing myself to respond how I know I am supposed to when inside something is screaming slowly leads to depression. So I take time to try and recover and every now and then a spark rekindles and reminds me of that feeling of letting go. Only now I hit a wall that was never there before. I can't push past it. At first I was left just wondering if I am more guarded, but it's something deeper and a heavyness settles in. What if I gave so much there is nothing left anymore? Is there a line where a person can be pushed too far to ever recover from? Places that seemed like home, people I felt were family I cannot bring myself to go to or be around. The mere idea of ever serving someone causes my muscles to tense up and I am shaken to my very core. Can a submissive be broken to the point where they can no longer submit anymore?
If you had asked me this years ago I would have laughed at the very idea that something so internal could ever be damaged in such a way. Yet today I am left with no other explanation. No one ever talks about this moment and those around are in these longterm successful relationships or so new this concept is beyond them. The loneliness gets longer and deeper. I never say anything because who would ever understand that what was once so natural now leaves me fighting for my very breath. I am at a crossroads and there is no path that makes sense anymore. The idea of just giving up and having a life where D/s plays no part tears more of my soul apart, but the concept of ever handing over the reigns gives me a cold sweat. People have told me it takes time, but it has been a long time and nothing is changing. If anything it's getting worse. I know better then anyone that time does not heal all. I have never felt so alone, so scared, and so at a point of losing an essential part of who I am or was or maybe still am. I still look around and the hardest part is no one seems to really notice I am not the same.
Real Life Session by Anonymous
Well a naughty boy entered the Deep abyss that is the Hanwell correctional institute and some fours hours later a much better behaved boy left all thanks to a Judge and a disciplinarian. Creeping up the stairs to get changed nervously I could hear Miss Miranda but I was swirling with the image of Ms Irene Boss short skirt white blouse stockings and a snarl tapping her hairbrush on her hand and looking at me. I was in trouble big trouble, as yet I did not know how much but it was going to be a lesson I would not forget in a hurry.
After some fumblings down to my nervousness I was led naked to the inspection chamber where Miss Miranda would take the lead for this first part. All the time the ladies were smiling to themselves mentioning little snippets of what I had in store and then continuing with their business. the business of punishment and discipline. I was spread in a medical chair securely held tight while both Miss Miranda and Ms Boss took turns to shave me and ensure I was ready to begin my punishment. The humiliaiton of turning around and having my bottom or "boy pussy shaved" was indeed a thought I will never forget. Miss Miranda talked me through the securing of the chastity device and Ms Boss or Aunty Irene as she now became secured the key on her ear ring. Always in view, tantalising, but so far out reach. Miss Miranda then handed me over officially to Aunty Irene I was shaved locked in chastity and had been fingered and spanked but that was just the muse bouche.
Aunty Irene took me up the stairs and had me secured in place and proceeded to spank my bottom with her hand. Other implements where used and I was scolded so I felt like a naughty boy who had been sent to his disciplinarian to learn a lesson. Aunty Irene has decided that I was to be penetrated so she ensured I was well prepared and gently but with complete control she ensured I was well lubricated and then plugged so I could be used later. This was an amazing feeling both humiliating and exciting all in one like drowning but liking it.
Over the knee with the slipper and hairbrush as i was scolded and held in position by this time aunty Irene had the chastity device removed and I kept getting more spanks for getting hard whilst over her knee. the leg locks were divine as I was held in place and then squeezed into submission by a lithe and supple Aunty. Indeed I was trapped spanked and learning a lesson at the house for wayward boys. Some respite came with water chatting all the time and then the chance to worship and adore Aunty's stockinged feet and legs. what a treat on the one hand but the positioning Aunty used just cemented her position as a superior female as I was suppline to her demands and as she towered over me I felt my place in her world.
Intermittent penetration from Aunty Irene was used on me I must admit to been nervous but the skill aunty Irene showed enabled the experience to be humiliating but also enjoyable as well. Especially when I was bent over with aunty Irene taking me with one leg on my back. This is definitely an image for total recall and one that shall remain with me until my last moments here. More spanking and foot worship commenced and then it was an amazing suggestion by aunty Irene. I was sent into the other room while she got the main room ready. She pulled a chair across the room and I heard the scrape of the legs on the wooden floor. Following that her footsteps came closer to where I was and then the door flung open.
Aunty Irene looked crosser than she had been before I had been caught masturbating and she was not happy with that she hauled me by the ear out into the room all of the time saying how disappointed she was with me and how i would be taught a lesson it really made me feel like a true naughty boy. I was then placed over her knee and the stockinged legs hooked me into place as she then proceeded to spank and scold with her hairbrush. The spanking was intense the type that you want to stop it leaves you short of breath as you feel the bite of the hairbrush and its fiery kiss. Hard and fast and with no reprieve I was here to learn how to behave with aunty Irene and that is what happened. an amazing experience and one i hope to repeat sooner rather than later. Caught at last and be careful what you wish for you might just need it again.
After some fumblings down to my nervousness I was led naked to the inspection chamber where Miss Miranda would take the lead for this first part. All the time the ladies were smiling to themselves mentioning little snippets of what I had in store and then continuing with their business. the business of punishment and discipline. I was spread in a medical chair securely held tight while both Miss Miranda and Ms Boss took turns to shave me and ensure I was ready to begin my punishment. The humiliaiton of turning around and having my bottom or "boy pussy shaved" was indeed a thought I will never forget. Miss Miranda talked me through the securing of the chastity device and Ms Boss or Aunty Irene as she now became secured the key on her ear ring. Always in view, tantalising, but so far out reach. Miss Miranda then handed me over officially to Aunty Irene I was shaved locked in chastity and had been fingered and spanked but that was just the muse bouche.
Aunty Irene took me up the stairs and had me secured in place and proceeded to spank my bottom with her hand. Other implements where used and I was scolded so I felt like a naughty boy who had been sent to his disciplinarian to learn a lesson. Aunty Irene has decided that I was to be penetrated so she ensured I was well prepared and gently but with complete control she ensured I was well lubricated and then plugged so I could be used later. This was an amazing feeling both humiliating and exciting all in one like drowning but liking it.
Over the knee with the slipper and hairbrush as i was scolded and held in position by this time aunty Irene had the chastity device removed and I kept getting more spanks for getting hard whilst over her knee. the leg locks were divine as I was held in place and then squeezed into submission by a lithe and supple Aunty. Indeed I was trapped spanked and learning a lesson at the house for wayward boys. Some respite came with water chatting all the time and then the chance to worship and adore Aunty's stockinged feet and legs. what a treat on the one hand but the positioning Aunty used just cemented her position as a superior female as I was suppline to her demands and as she towered over me I felt my place in her world.
Intermittent penetration from Aunty Irene was used on me I must admit to been nervous but the skill aunty Irene showed enabled the experience to be humiliating but also enjoyable as well. Especially when I was bent over with aunty Irene taking me with one leg on my back. This is definitely an image for total recall and one that shall remain with me until my last moments here. More spanking and foot worship commenced and then it was an amazing suggestion by aunty Irene. I was sent into the other room while she got the main room ready. She pulled a chair across the room and I heard the scrape of the legs on the wooden floor. Following that her footsteps came closer to where I was and then the door flung open.
Aunty Irene looked crosser than she had been before I had been caught masturbating and she was not happy with that she hauled me by the ear out into the room all of the time saying how disappointed she was with me and how i would be taught a lesson it really made me feel like a true naughty boy. I was then placed over her knee and the stockinged legs hooked me into place as she then proceeded to spank and scold with her hairbrush. The spanking was intense the type that you want to stop it leaves you short of breath as you feel the bite of the hairbrush and its fiery kiss. Hard and fast and with no reprieve I was here to learn how to behave with aunty Irene and that is what happened. an amazing experience and one i hope to repeat sooner rather than later. Caught at last and be careful what you wish for you might just need it again.
Saturday, August 20, 2016
She Said...
She sent the text message from the taxi cab " ten minutes until my arrival cunt make sure everything is prepared"
" Yes Mistress" was the rapid reply.
Most people would think they were nuts meeting this way. They had never set eyes on each other in real life, not even cammed one to one before and now well now....
The back door of his house was unlocked as instructed. She gently pushed it open and with a rush of adrenaline confidently walked into the game.
She quickly scanned her new surroundings and entered a small room to the right. Smiling, she noted the crystal wine glass, chilled bottle of rose wine and array of milk chocolates presented preciously as she had instructed for her arrival.
He had sent her photographs of his home's interior so she knew he was waiting in the room opposite. As she smoked a cigarette and sipped her wine, she imagined how he must feel, - nervous, apprehensive, horny and most probably terrified.. He would know she was here now. He would have heard her heels tapping on the tiled floor..
Time to up the game.
She stood in the doorway and glanced around the room. He was displayed as instructed. Hooded, gagged, naked, bent over the dining table with shackled ankles and cuffs. The sense of power was intoxicating and all her senses heightened as she began walking around him.
She would not touch him yet she would just make him very aware of her presence.
Walking around him she stopped at each table picking up an occasional cane or flogger to examine. Each step echoed by the tapping of her heels.
She left him alone again and sipped some more wine. The drama of it all made her feel that she was watching herself from above. it was almost an out of body experience, everything felt so much sharper than when she had played before. She felt invincible with the power of his submission.
Walking back into the room she picked up a leather paddle and placed it gently across his right buttock. She heard his intake of breath, paused slightly then paddled both arse cheeks until they glowed red.
She threw the paddle down on the table close to his head and walked back out.
After a leisurely cigarette she strode back in.
Not one word had been spoken yet and as she rubbed her hands accross his arse cheeks he trembled slightly.
It was time to up the game.
The cane was first, ten strong strokes on each arse cheek, The birch which soon became her favourite was next and she delighted in its sound as it swished through the air before impact. The martinet was exquisite as it marked its target and the glass cane tore the screams from his throat. In the next hour , the sjambok, the various canes, the leather floggers all played their part in his demise. His tears were rather fucking delightful.
Roughly she grabbed the back of his hood and pulled his face towards hers and broke the silence of the last two hours " Hello cunt. nice to meet you ". She kissed him, pushed his face back down and walked out..
Watching from the doorway she saw him tremble and shake.
She approached him and placed her hand over his, His shaking intensified, She needed to take the cunt down from his position.
Kneeling in front of her still hooded, she asked him if wished to continue. He quietly replied yes. She slapped him hard full force across the face. "yes what !" she demanded.
Immediately shocked by the contact of her slap and the sheer sensory overload of the past hours he crumbled.. Overwhelmed his whole body shook.
She grabbed him by the collar and made him crawl beside her to the other room.
She lifted a glass to his mouth. Drink she ordered.
She placed a chocolate into his mouth. Eat she instructed.
Tomorrow is another day cunt.
" Yes Mistress" was the rapid reply.
Most people would think they were nuts meeting this way. They had never set eyes on each other in real life, not even cammed one to one before and now well now....
The back door of his house was unlocked as instructed. She gently pushed it open and with a rush of adrenaline confidently walked into the game.
She quickly scanned her new surroundings and entered a small room to the right. Smiling, she noted the crystal wine glass, chilled bottle of rose wine and array of milk chocolates presented preciously as she had instructed for her arrival.
He had sent her photographs of his home's interior so she knew he was waiting in the room opposite. As she smoked a cigarette and sipped her wine, she imagined how he must feel, - nervous, apprehensive, horny and most probably terrified.. He would know she was here now. He would have heard her heels tapping on the tiled floor..
Time to up the game.
She stood in the doorway and glanced around the room. He was displayed as instructed. Hooded, gagged, naked, bent over the dining table with shackled ankles and cuffs. The sense of power was intoxicating and all her senses heightened as she began walking around him.
She would not touch him yet she would just make him very aware of her presence.
Walking around him she stopped at each table picking up an occasional cane or flogger to examine. Each step echoed by the tapping of her heels.
She left him alone again and sipped some more wine. The drama of it all made her feel that she was watching herself from above. it was almost an out of body experience, everything felt so much sharper than when she had played before. She felt invincible with the power of his submission.
Walking back into the room she picked up a leather paddle and placed it gently across his right buttock. She heard his intake of breath, paused slightly then paddled both arse cheeks until they glowed red.
She threw the paddle down on the table close to his head and walked back out.
After a leisurely cigarette she strode back in.
Not one word had been spoken yet and as she rubbed her hands accross his arse cheeks he trembled slightly.
It was time to up the game.
The cane was first, ten strong strokes on each arse cheek, The birch which soon became her favourite was next and she delighted in its sound as it swished through the air before impact. The martinet was exquisite as it marked its target and the glass cane tore the screams from his throat. In the next hour , the sjambok, the various canes, the leather floggers all played their part in his demise. His tears were rather fucking delightful.
Roughly she grabbed the back of his hood and pulled his face towards hers and broke the silence of the last two hours " Hello cunt. nice to meet you ". She kissed him, pushed his face back down and walked out..
Watching from the doorway she saw him tremble and shake.
She approached him and placed her hand over his, His shaking intensified, She needed to take the cunt down from his position.
Kneeling in front of her still hooded, she asked him if wished to continue. He quietly replied yes. She slapped him hard full force across the face. "yes what !" she demanded.
Immediately shocked by the contact of her slap and the sheer sensory overload of the past hours he crumbled.. Overwhelmed his whole body shook.
She grabbed him by the collar and made him crawl beside her to the other room.
She lifted a glass to his mouth. Drink she ordered.
She placed a chocolate into his mouth. Eat she instructed.
Tomorrow is another day cunt.
He Said...
OUR FIRST WEEKEND
Mistress had arranged to visit me and had told me that our first meeting was to be special: I was to be naked and helpless in bondage before she even entered the house. I spent most of the day in a delirium of nervousness and excitement, trying to envisage what this would be like.
Eventually, I got the text saying that Mistress would arrive in 10 minutes, and so I prepared myself. When Mistress arrived, I was spread-eagled over the table, cuffed and naked except for a latex hood and ball-gag. I was immobile in darkness, but I heard the sound of the outside door opening as Mistress entered, and there was a short nerve-wracking delay as I heard her heels on the tiled floor outside the room. Then I heard her enter and walk over towards me. Without saying anything, she picked up one of the discipline instruments, a paddle I think, and gave me 10 strokes on each arse cheek, then left the room again.
Almost immediately, my anxiety about meeting this way evaporated, although it was replaced by a different sort of nervousness as I began to wonder what Mistress had planned. I had set out Mistress’s drinks etc in the room next door, and she spent a little time through there, relaxing from her trip. I waited in the darkness, nervous and unsure. Then I heard her return, and our discipline session began in earnest.
I don’t know what it was like for Mistress, but for me it was incredibly exciting to be so helpless and have Mistress using me. She appeared to try in turn a variety of our discipline instruments: a range of canes and floggers. Each one seemed to have a special pain attached to it. I could feel the spread of each flogger as she whipped my arse and back, and could hear the swishing sound of different canes as she moved from one to the next, each noise preceding a stinging blow. Mistress is expert at what she does, and I had no idea from one moment to the next what was going to happen. After a while she spoke to me a little, and it was just wonderful to hear Mistress’s sexy voice in real life. I lost count of the number of blows that landed, and the pain from each new implement seemed to merge into the pain from the one before. Some of the floggers landed with a heavy thud. Some landed with a sharp sting. Some of the canes were heavy. Some of the canes were thin. But each created pain in a different way, and as time passed, I felt myself slip deep into sub-space.
Eventually, I seemed to float out of awareness, and then I heard Mistress telling me were going to stop. I did not realise it, but apparently I was trembling. So Mistress released me and took off my hood, and I was finally able to gaze into Mistress’s beautiful eyes. Mistress was very kind to me and helped me recover, and then we spent an absolutely perfect evening together. It was so wonderful to spend the evening with my beautiful Mistress, knowing that we had begun the start of our relationship in such a special way.
The following evening, Mistress hooded me and cuffed me to a door-bondage device, and then she began to beat me again. It was just as exciting as the night before. although the pain was worse, partly because I was still hurting from the day before, and partly because I think Mistress was hitting me harder. She spoke more this time, and that made it even sexier for me, especially when she whispered in my ear while she pulled me by the hair back from the door, ‘Remember, you are just fuckmeat’. After a while I began to drift again, and Mistress decided to take me down from the cuffs. I think I was begging her to stop, but am not completely clear on the last bit. Mistress said I was trembling again, though once again I was not aware of it.
Mistress is so expert in her ability to dominate. The following night Mistress made me dress in a pink sissy dress, and called me ‘Cynthia’ for most of the night. I felt silly and humiliated being dressed that way, but I confess it was weirdly exciting to feel the nylon of the stockings and the silkiness of the panties and dress against my bare skin, and to know that Mistress had transformed me into a sissy for the evening. Mistress made me prepare and serve her meal, with me stumbling in high heels, and each time I entered the room she was very strict and authoritarian with me, which immediately began to push me down into subspace.
Later on, when we got into the dungeon, Mistress made me kneel and suck on a black latex dildo, forcing my head down onto it so that it pushed deep into my mouth and throat. Then Mistress made me stand and fitted a blindfold. She shoved me over a chair and pushed a vibrator dildo into me – I was not sure how to process the feelings as the vibrations were really strong and I could feel them deep inside me. After a while Mistress replaced the vibrator dildo with her strapon dildo. I felt utterly submissive as she was doing it as I felt that Mistress had complete control over my body. Then she started shoving her strapon in and out of my pussy harder and faster. I could hear her laughing as she was doing it, and more than anything that is when it most felt as though I was utterly unable to do anything but lie over the chair and have Mistress roughly use me that way. After a while Mistress made me get up. She pushed a dildo inside me again and made me sit on the chair. She stood over me and shoved the black dildo in and out of my mouth. Each time she shoved the cock deep into my mouth I reflexively moved back and felt the strapon cock sliding deeper into my pussy. Eventually, Mistress relented, and the session came to an end.
It was a wonderful weekend, I am already looking forward to seeing Mistress again. Being together in real life is so much better than just being together on SL, although I think our SL time is going to be so much more enriched now we have met in real life. This account has been about our Ds play. But we spent many happy hours just being together, and I hope Mistress enjoyed being with me even just half as much as I have loved being with her, and that this was the start of our happy ever after.
Mistress had arranged to visit me and had told me that our first meeting was to be special: I was to be naked and helpless in bondage before she even entered the house. I spent most of the day in a delirium of nervousness and excitement, trying to envisage what this would be like.
Eventually, I got the text saying that Mistress would arrive in 10 minutes, and so I prepared myself. When Mistress arrived, I was spread-eagled over the table, cuffed and naked except for a latex hood and ball-gag. I was immobile in darkness, but I heard the sound of the outside door opening as Mistress entered, and there was a short nerve-wracking delay as I heard her heels on the tiled floor outside the room. Then I heard her enter and walk over towards me. Without saying anything, she picked up one of the discipline instruments, a paddle I think, and gave me 10 strokes on each arse cheek, then left the room again.
Almost immediately, my anxiety about meeting this way evaporated, although it was replaced by a different sort of nervousness as I began to wonder what Mistress had planned. I had set out Mistress’s drinks etc in the room next door, and she spent a little time through there, relaxing from her trip. I waited in the darkness, nervous and unsure. Then I heard her return, and our discipline session began in earnest.
I don’t know what it was like for Mistress, but for me it was incredibly exciting to be so helpless and have Mistress using me. She appeared to try in turn a variety of our discipline instruments: a range of canes and floggers. Each one seemed to have a special pain attached to it. I could feel the spread of each flogger as she whipped my arse and back, and could hear the swishing sound of different canes as she moved from one to the next, each noise preceding a stinging blow. Mistress is expert at what she does, and I had no idea from one moment to the next what was going to happen. After a while she spoke to me a little, and it was just wonderful to hear Mistress’s sexy voice in real life. I lost count of the number of blows that landed, and the pain from each new implement seemed to merge into the pain from the one before. Some of the floggers landed with a heavy thud. Some landed with a sharp sting. Some of the canes were heavy. Some of the canes were thin. But each created pain in a different way, and as time passed, I felt myself slip deep into sub-space.
Eventually, I seemed to float out of awareness, and then I heard Mistress telling me were going to stop. I did not realise it, but apparently I was trembling. So Mistress released me and took off my hood, and I was finally able to gaze into Mistress’s beautiful eyes. Mistress was very kind to me and helped me recover, and then we spent an absolutely perfect evening together. It was so wonderful to spend the evening with my beautiful Mistress, knowing that we had begun the start of our relationship in such a special way.
The following evening, Mistress hooded me and cuffed me to a door-bondage device, and then she began to beat me again. It was just as exciting as the night before. although the pain was worse, partly because I was still hurting from the day before, and partly because I think Mistress was hitting me harder. She spoke more this time, and that made it even sexier for me, especially when she whispered in my ear while she pulled me by the hair back from the door, ‘Remember, you are just fuckmeat’. After a while I began to drift again, and Mistress decided to take me down from the cuffs. I think I was begging her to stop, but am not completely clear on the last bit. Mistress said I was trembling again, though once again I was not aware of it.
Mistress is so expert in her ability to dominate. The following night Mistress made me dress in a pink sissy dress, and called me ‘Cynthia’ for most of the night. I felt silly and humiliated being dressed that way, but I confess it was weirdly exciting to feel the nylon of the stockings and the silkiness of the panties and dress against my bare skin, and to know that Mistress had transformed me into a sissy for the evening. Mistress made me prepare and serve her meal, with me stumbling in high heels, and each time I entered the room she was very strict and authoritarian with me, which immediately began to push me down into subspace.
Later on, when we got into the dungeon, Mistress made me kneel and suck on a black latex dildo, forcing my head down onto it so that it pushed deep into my mouth and throat. Then Mistress made me stand and fitted a blindfold. She shoved me over a chair and pushed a vibrator dildo into me – I was not sure how to process the feelings as the vibrations were really strong and I could feel them deep inside me. After a while Mistress replaced the vibrator dildo with her strapon dildo. I felt utterly submissive as she was doing it as I felt that Mistress had complete control over my body. Then she started shoving her strapon in and out of my pussy harder and faster. I could hear her laughing as she was doing it, and more than anything that is when it most felt as though I was utterly unable to do anything but lie over the chair and have Mistress roughly use me that way. After a while Mistress made me get up. She pushed a dildo inside me again and made me sit on the chair. She stood over me and shoved the black dildo in and out of my mouth. Each time she shoved the cock deep into my mouth I reflexively moved back and felt the strapon cock sliding deeper into my pussy. Eventually, Mistress relented, and the session came to an end.
It was a wonderful weekend, I am already looking forward to seeing Mistress again. Being together in real life is so much better than just being together on SL, although I think our SL time is going to be so much more enriched now we have met in real life. This account has been about our Ds play. But we spent many happy hours just being together, and I hope Mistress enjoyed being with me even just half as much as I have loved being with her, and that this was the start of our happy ever after.
Two Way Street Part 2 by Anonymous
Two way street Pt.2
I could feel it. That gnawing, rising, tingling, hungrily smoldering fire pouring through every damned vein in my body. It felt as though my cock was coated in one of my Lady's more innovative torments all over again. This time however, it was simply searing need that kept me hard enough to have been carved from marble. My strength was failing me at this moment. My head rolled back defeatedly and meshed my hair with the carpet. Legs gripped lightly to one another, putting gentile pressure on the pistoning member still pounding between them. My eyes rolled back and gazed aimlessly across the room into nothingness.
Oh no, not yet. That glinting gaze caught the corner of my eye and without thinking I looked. I focused in and peered into the black inferno, wreathed in silver ice. The endless hunger for the most delectable entertainment silently roared forth demands for a better show. And that fear, the indecipherable momentary fear of even the slightest disappointment shivered down my spine. Before I'd even comprehended what I'd done, my body was moving autonomously.
Straining and elongating my arms, I writhed my way down further under my partner. I could hear a disappointed whine through panted breaths that my neck was now out of biting reach, and the scattered teeth marks could not be added to. The grip upon my wrists tightened as if anticipating some vain escape attempt. Laughable. The smirk of my face could have been the most malevolent I'd have ever expressed had it not been only visible to one unsuspecting nipple. Leaning forward, breath hissing from between teeth that would scarcely part in time for the grin I had, and within the boiling cauldron of my mouth his flesh was taken. Firm pressure ringed in sharp sentinels guarding against any sudden extraction. The tip of my tongue dancing around the areola tauntingly.
My knees twisted and rose, pushing his legs farther apart and making any further grinding of his drooling breast against my skin very difficult. The soft whimpers of surprise and anguish delighted our conductor, hinted at by the soft laughter in the distance. One hand left my wrist and reached down, hooking it's self under my knee and pushing my leg up flush with my stomach. He angled himself, aiming to thrust himself into me. But my hand was free and my mind was swimming with the need to please, the desire to fuck and the ceaseless hunger for some kind of sexual release. Fingers shot up and entangled themselves into any hair I could get a grip on, pulling him over to the side. The surprise and energy of it caught him off guard, and we once again switched positions. He was now on his back with knees up, and I was laying between them. One knee sat firmly on the floor, and the other was all that separated out stomachs.
The fall propelled me close enough that our eyes met, and desire overcame both of us for a moment. We kissed, violently. Hungry mouths gnashed teeth at each other in a maelstrom of passion. Slight hints of pain sparkled in the ocean of desire that poured from us both. He released my other wrist so I could prop myself up better, and he could get a better grip. Fingernails marred the so far unmarked white flesh of my arsecheek and left paler scratches in furrows of rose pink. My knee slipped form between us and feel aside his hip, and my body shifted to... Fuck... Right there.
The engorged head of his cock rested up against my puckered entrance and I now had nowhere to go. Our mouths parted, his teeth bared in anticipation caught my eye and all that could escape my mouth was a pitched gasp. It popped into my prepared little hole, still well lubricated from earlier... activities. Well, this contest would be no fun if we had to take time out to consciously apply all the necessary safeties now would it? My body tensed right up, and slowly sank down to sit upon his lap. Eyes glazed in defeat and breath held, taking in every sensation that prickled it's way up my spine.
The joy in finally being able to fuck something more than the heated void between our bodies was clearly audible in the noises accompanying every breath. His hips wasted no time in encouraging me to repeat this motion, and soon lifted us both only to sink down rapidly, and have my backside follow suit to sit back in his lap. Every re-sheathing of his cock within the bowels of my hungry body works whines and whimpers from my wordless mouth, and any resistance to this action melted away. All I could think of was the pleasurable sensation of fucking...
I could feel it. That gnawing, rising, tingling, hungrily smoldering fire pouring through every damned vein in my body. It felt as though my cock was coated in one of my Lady's more innovative torments all over again. This time however, it was simply searing need that kept me hard enough to have been carved from marble. My strength was failing me at this moment. My head rolled back defeatedly and meshed my hair with the carpet. Legs gripped lightly to one another, putting gentile pressure on the pistoning member still pounding between them. My eyes rolled back and gazed aimlessly across the room into nothingness.
Oh no, not yet. That glinting gaze caught the corner of my eye and without thinking I looked. I focused in and peered into the black inferno, wreathed in silver ice. The endless hunger for the most delectable entertainment silently roared forth demands for a better show. And that fear, the indecipherable momentary fear of even the slightest disappointment shivered down my spine. Before I'd even comprehended what I'd done, my body was moving autonomously.
Straining and elongating my arms, I writhed my way down further under my partner. I could hear a disappointed whine through panted breaths that my neck was now out of biting reach, and the scattered teeth marks could not be added to. The grip upon my wrists tightened as if anticipating some vain escape attempt. Laughable. The smirk of my face could have been the most malevolent I'd have ever expressed had it not been only visible to one unsuspecting nipple. Leaning forward, breath hissing from between teeth that would scarcely part in time for the grin I had, and within the boiling cauldron of my mouth his flesh was taken. Firm pressure ringed in sharp sentinels guarding against any sudden extraction. The tip of my tongue dancing around the areola tauntingly.
My knees twisted and rose, pushing his legs farther apart and making any further grinding of his drooling breast against my skin very difficult. The soft whimpers of surprise and anguish delighted our conductor, hinted at by the soft laughter in the distance. One hand left my wrist and reached down, hooking it's self under my knee and pushing my leg up flush with my stomach. He angled himself, aiming to thrust himself into me. But my hand was free and my mind was swimming with the need to please, the desire to fuck and the ceaseless hunger for some kind of sexual release. Fingers shot up and entangled themselves into any hair I could get a grip on, pulling him over to the side. The surprise and energy of it caught him off guard, and we once again switched positions. He was now on his back with knees up, and I was laying between them. One knee sat firmly on the floor, and the other was all that separated out stomachs.
The fall propelled me close enough that our eyes met, and desire overcame both of us for a moment. We kissed, violently. Hungry mouths gnashed teeth at each other in a maelstrom of passion. Slight hints of pain sparkled in the ocean of desire that poured from us both. He released my other wrist so I could prop myself up better, and he could get a better grip. Fingernails marred the so far unmarked white flesh of my arsecheek and left paler scratches in furrows of rose pink. My knee slipped form between us and feel aside his hip, and my body shifted to... Fuck... Right there.
The engorged head of his cock rested up against my puckered entrance and I now had nowhere to go. Our mouths parted, his teeth bared in anticipation caught my eye and all that could escape my mouth was a pitched gasp. It popped into my prepared little hole, still well lubricated from earlier... activities. Well, this contest would be no fun if we had to take time out to consciously apply all the necessary safeties now would it? My body tensed right up, and slowly sank down to sit upon his lap. Eyes glazed in defeat and breath held, taking in every sensation that prickled it's way up my spine.
The joy in finally being able to fuck something more than the heated void between our bodies was clearly audible in the noises accompanying every breath. His hips wasted no time in encouraging me to repeat this motion, and soon lifted us both only to sink down rapidly, and have my backside follow suit to sit back in his lap. Every re-sheathing of his cock within the bowels of my hungry body works whines and whimpers from my wordless mouth, and any resistance to this action melted away. All I could think of was the pleasurable sensation of fucking...
Craving by Matthew
"Craving"
It's in the nuanced way she seeps into his mind.
A slow dance they do, playful at first, but then clearly more orchestrated.
Each day bringing a new understanding to the word "craving."
Early on the boy finds it startling how the conversation can turn from something
so vanilla as discussing each others day, then without missing a beat
she asks "how hard is my cock?"
The boy feels his heart skip a beat and he doesn't even recognize the soft
distinguishable moan that has escaped his lips.
Already the craving, the desire the boy feels, is growing.
Each day her words are like seductive tendrils that slip deeper into the
dark recesses of the boy's willing mind.
Caressing his desires, stirring a need, long held dormant.
Throughout his work day, she is ever present in his mind.
The pink scrunchie around his hard, thick cock almost seems to vibrate under his dress slacks. Her enforced chastity crashes through his concentration continuously;
focused utterly and completely on her. Simultaneously he finds himself blushing and smiling at his current predicament.
Creating a need, a desire, such a craving to be close to her that
he writes her initials on his wrist and sends a picture to her from his phone.
She smiles at the surprise picture that popped up on her phone and texts back "good boy." Even across the vast distance between the two she elicits an audible "ohhhh" from him.
Daily, the cravings grow. The boy feels the sensation of floating, dropping,
as he slips into this most blissfully, vulnerable state.
Giving himself over to her now is such a natural, organic act.
Such a craving she has elicited in him.
Craving to please her.
Craving to be with this woman. This thoughtful, intelligent, complicated, sexy woman.
Craving to be her companion, her confidant. To be let inside her world.
Craving to be her bitch, her slut. Hers.
Several months later, she invites the boy into her study; taking him by the hand and leading him in after her, then as she settles into her chair she motions for him to kneel before her She sees the intensity in his eyes, the quiet anticipation, his shallow breathing, and in his touch as he gently caresses his cheek along her legs as he kneels before her.
She strokes her hand along his face, then she nudges the boys chin up, her intense gaze meeting his eyes.
"It's been a few months now, since you and I started this dance..." she begins, the boy fully enraptured with her every word, nearly breathless. She starts again "and I am pleased with our journey thus far. Are you prepared to continue that journey with me?" Tracing her fingertips along his neck in achingly slow serpentine circles.
She nearly squirms in her chair, thinking of the boy. Her boy. How wonderfully he has submitted to her, the emotional stamina he exhibits, and how their lives are now so intertwined.
She catches herself, a slight smile rising, and waits.
Slightly breathless, the boy whispers "I crave to be yours."
It's in the nuanced way she seeps into his mind.
A slow dance they do, playful at first, but then clearly more orchestrated.
Each day bringing a new understanding to the word "craving."
Early on the boy finds it startling how the conversation can turn from something
so vanilla as discussing each others day, then without missing a beat
she asks "how hard is my cock?"
The boy feels his heart skip a beat and he doesn't even recognize the soft
distinguishable moan that has escaped his lips.
Already the craving, the desire the boy feels, is growing.
Each day her words are like seductive tendrils that slip deeper into the
dark recesses of the boy's willing mind.
Caressing his desires, stirring a need, long held dormant.
Throughout his work day, she is ever present in his mind.
The pink scrunchie around his hard, thick cock almost seems to vibrate under his dress slacks. Her enforced chastity crashes through his concentration continuously;
focused utterly and completely on her. Simultaneously he finds himself blushing and smiling at his current predicament.
Creating a need, a desire, such a craving to be close to her that
he writes her initials on his wrist and sends a picture to her from his phone.
She smiles at the surprise picture that popped up on her phone and texts back "good boy." Even across the vast distance between the two she elicits an audible "ohhhh" from him.
Daily, the cravings grow. The boy feels the sensation of floating, dropping,
as he slips into this most blissfully, vulnerable state.
Giving himself over to her now is such a natural, organic act.
Such a craving she has elicited in him.
Craving to please her.
Craving to be with this woman. This thoughtful, intelligent, complicated, sexy woman.
Craving to be her companion, her confidant. To be let inside her world.
Craving to be her bitch, her slut. Hers.
Several months later, she invites the boy into her study; taking him by the hand and leading him in after her, then as she settles into her chair she motions for him to kneel before her She sees the intensity in his eyes, the quiet anticipation, his shallow breathing, and in his touch as he gently caresses his cheek along her legs as he kneels before her.
She strokes her hand along his face, then she nudges the boys chin up, her intense gaze meeting his eyes.
"It's been a few months now, since you and I started this dance..." she begins, the boy fully enraptured with her every word, nearly breathless. She starts again "and I am pleased with our journey thus far. Are you prepared to continue that journey with me?" Tracing her fingertips along his neck in achingly slow serpentine circles.
She nearly squirms in her chair, thinking of the boy. Her boy. How wonderfully he has submitted to her, the emotional stamina he exhibits, and how their lives are now so intertwined.
She catches herself, a slight smile rising, and waits.
Slightly breathless, the boy whispers "I crave to be yours."
Submission by Anonymous
Up front, my apologies if this turns out to be long in length.
In the last couple of weeks, I've pondered what it means to be a sub, I've heard what it means to be a Domme, and I've thrown myself out to the wolves in a manner to better understand myself.
But throughout all of this, I've thought only little about what my true confession would be.... Not until tonight.... not until now.
As I think upon it, never has the princess by day, slut by night concept been more true in my life as it is now. I live a double life. There are the sights I allow those in my personal life see, and another that those who I only trust with my deepest darkest desires know. I'm an innocent guy, at least that's what most people see in me. I'm quiet, shy, reserved. I talk little and typically am lost in my own little world. That's not to say that I don't keep an eye upon my surroundings...
But I realize more and more as I delve into kink that that isn't everything to me. And I find myself yearning for something... more...
The deepest confession is my darkest sins. The desires that would make my relatives sick. It is the glorious sting of the whip and flogger, the loss of control at the hands of another, the screams and moans of the deepest throws of passion and lust, yeah.... we all have that dark side. But some more than others.
The more I descend in, the more I rise up. The more I find myself upon my knees, the more content I am to stay upon them. I find that our deepest desires lie upon the darkness of our souls, nay not they are dark, but that they are the very depths of which the human soul wants, Needs, LUSTS FOR to be filled with glorious light. And only in certain ways can they be filled. Ours just happen to lie on the more wild side of things.
It's taboo, reckless. It would alarm some people, and terrify others. But to fill a role as we do, simply takes a constitution that most people just don't have. They're frightened... frightened of my heretical behaviour.
They're frightened of me.
But they don't know it.
I wish to keep it that way...... for now.
All of You... You understand. You understand that this is who we are. You know how the world looks upon our savage delights. Oooo how wonderful they are..., but they shall never know because they fear it. We're different, and the world hates different. We lie outside the main stream, but somehow we revel in it.
And I start to understand it in the same way that I understand being a fur. It's just who I am... It's just who we are. In that I think is the deepest confession. Finding out who one is, and exposing it, enjoying it, not being ashamed for who I am, but instead to find those who understand and appreciate it.
It's that I've found here. It's why I keep coming back. The draw of friends who are willing to let one be who they are, there is no greater freedom. Freedom to be on my knees? To some that would seem more like a prison....
To me? It's the greatest freedom a sub could be honored with. That's my light in the darkness.
In the last couple of weeks, I've pondered what it means to be a sub, I've heard what it means to be a Domme, and I've thrown myself out to the wolves in a manner to better understand myself.
But throughout all of this, I've thought only little about what my true confession would be.... Not until tonight.... not until now.
As I think upon it, never has the princess by day, slut by night concept been more true in my life as it is now. I live a double life. There are the sights I allow those in my personal life see, and another that those who I only trust with my deepest darkest desires know. I'm an innocent guy, at least that's what most people see in me. I'm quiet, shy, reserved. I talk little and typically am lost in my own little world. That's not to say that I don't keep an eye upon my surroundings...
But I realize more and more as I delve into kink that that isn't everything to me. And I find myself yearning for something... more...
The deepest confession is my darkest sins. The desires that would make my relatives sick. It is the glorious sting of the whip and flogger, the loss of control at the hands of another, the screams and moans of the deepest throws of passion and lust, yeah.... we all have that dark side. But some more than others.
The more I descend in, the more I rise up. The more I find myself upon my knees, the more content I am to stay upon them. I find that our deepest desires lie upon the darkness of our souls, nay not they are dark, but that they are the very depths of which the human soul wants, Needs, LUSTS FOR to be filled with glorious light. And only in certain ways can they be filled. Ours just happen to lie on the more wild side of things.
It's taboo, reckless. It would alarm some people, and terrify others. But to fill a role as we do, simply takes a constitution that most people just don't have. They're frightened... frightened of my heretical behaviour.
They're frightened of me.
But they don't know it.
I wish to keep it that way...... for now.
All of You... You understand. You understand that this is who we are. You know how the world looks upon our savage delights. Oooo how wonderful they are..., but they shall never know because they fear it. We're different, and the world hates different. We lie outside the main stream, but somehow we revel in it.
And I start to understand it in the same way that I understand being a fur. It's just who I am... It's just who we are. In that I think is the deepest confession. Finding out who one is, and exposing it, enjoying it, not being ashamed for who I am, but instead to find those who understand and appreciate it.
It's that I've found here. It's why I keep coming back. The draw of friends who are willing to let one be who they are, there is no greater freedom. Freedom to be on my knees? To some that would seem more like a prison....
To me? It's the greatest freedom a sub could be honored with. That's my light in the darkness.
First Contact by Lady Lobbie
The train slowly pulls in to the station, I grab my bag and make my way to the doors taking a deep I breath in I step on to the platform. Scanning the people there I cannot see my boy amongst them. Rubbing my temples I pull the handle on my case and make my way out of the station.
Stepping on to the pavement I see a café, Ah a nice cuppa just what I need I make my way in side and order, I find a quiet table and pull out all my paper work, as I sip my tea I look at the map working out where my hotel is seeing that it is quite a distance I think it will be better to take a taxi. Suddenly my phone vibrates on the table picking it up I see that it is my boy calling, wrinkling my nose I decline the call. Sipping my tea I try to relax but my head is spinning, I rub my temples again finishing my tea I make my way to the taxi rank I had seen at the station, my phone vibrates again looking it is a voice mail I decide to hear it when I get to my hotel.
Arriving at my hotel 10 min later I get out. Entering the doors I head to the desk giving my name I’m handed the card for the door. I make my way to the room placing my case I flop down on to the bed; pulling out my phone I dial the number for my voice mail.
Beep “Hello Mistress.” I hear the sound of my boy’s voice. “I’m so sorry I was not at the station when your train arrived, the road I would normal take was closed so it took me a lot longer to get there than I had planned. By the time I had arrived you had gone. I can only apologise. I know I should have given myself more time. I hope to hear back from you.” Click the message ends I close my eyes for a moment and shake my head and mutter “men” under my breath. Dialling his number he answers on the first ring “Mistress I’m….” “Stop right there.” I say cutting him off. “I forgive you mine, I have arrived safe if not a little tiered and I’m currently at the hotel, now would you like to join me here?” I ask “Oh.” He gasps slightly. “Yes please Mistress I would like that very much.” I give him the address. I pick up my case and start unpacking.
15 min later the room phone rings. I pick it up. “Hello, this is reception we have a Mr Grey here for you.” The voice on the other end tells me. “Can you ask him if he’d like to come up? If he does send him to my room.” I tell the voice “He says he would love to and is on his way.” A few moments later there is knock on the door. “Enter I call out its open.” I’m sat on the bed as he enters the room he smiles at me and without a word kneels at my feet. I wrap my arms around him and he does the same to me. I look deeply into his eyes before kissing him hard thrusting my tongue in to his mouth I hear him moans a little as we kiss. Pulling away I smile “Hello mine.” He swallows hard catching his breath. “Hello Mistress.” We stay for a moment like that. “Now, I say to him to address your lateness.” I open the top draw and pull out a paddle, Jeans and undies off.” I command him with he does without hesitation. “Bend over the bed.” Is my next instruction to him, he is bent over the bed his bare ass on show. “So mine just how late were you?” I ask. “10 min at most Mistress I promise.” He tells me “So 10 you were late 15 I had to wait here 10 it took me to get here so we missed out on 35 min together because of your lateness. So I think I will spank you 35 times.” He nods his head and I get to work on his ass the redness in his checks building nicely. Soon enough I reach 35 and the tension in my head as gone. I rub some cream in to his ass and he moans in pleasure. I ask him to sit on the bed and as he does I see he has an erection. He blushes as he sees that I have noticed pushing him back on the bed he gasps. Lifting my skirt I pull off my black lace panties tossing them on to his face I climb on to him pinning him down, kissing him hard and deep I slide my wet vagina on to his hard throbbing penis he grunts softly his hips thrusting to mine. I fuck him hard and fast until I finally reach my climax panting deeply he looks in to my eyes “Mistress…. Please may I cum.” he begs, looking down at him I smile. “Only after I do again.” Now rocking slowly my hands move to my breasts, teasing my nipples and caressing my breasts I rock and bounce slowly on his cock. He bites his lip and I smile letting my climax build s l o w l y making him wait for his. After 45 min I finally give in and orgasm again my juices soaking his cock. I hear him grunt and see his face flush as he cums. I collapse on to him and smile and kiss him softly then whisper. “Good boy and thank you mine.” And as I drift off to sleep I hear “Your welcome and Thank you Mistress. I love you.”
THE END
Stepping on to the pavement I see a café, Ah a nice cuppa just what I need I make my way in side and order, I find a quiet table and pull out all my paper work, as I sip my tea I look at the map working out where my hotel is seeing that it is quite a distance I think it will be better to take a taxi. Suddenly my phone vibrates on the table picking it up I see that it is my boy calling, wrinkling my nose I decline the call. Sipping my tea I try to relax but my head is spinning, I rub my temples again finishing my tea I make my way to the taxi rank I had seen at the station, my phone vibrates again looking it is a voice mail I decide to hear it when I get to my hotel.
Arriving at my hotel 10 min later I get out. Entering the doors I head to the desk giving my name I’m handed the card for the door. I make my way to the room placing my case I flop down on to the bed; pulling out my phone I dial the number for my voice mail.
Beep “Hello Mistress.” I hear the sound of my boy’s voice. “I’m so sorry I was not at the station when your train arrived, the road I would normal take was closed so it took me a lot longer to get there than I had planned. By the time I had arrived you had gone. I can only apologise. I know I should have given myself more time. I hope to hear back from you.” Click the message ends I close my eyes for a moment and shake my head and mutter “men” under my breath. Dialling his number he answers on the first ring “Mistress I’m….” “Stop right there.” I say cutting him off. “I forgive you mine, I have arrived safe if not a little tiered and I’m currently at the hotel, now would you like to join me here?” I ask “Oh.” He gasps slightly. “Yes please Mistress I would like that very much.” I give him the address. I pick up my case and start unpacking.
15 min later the room phone rings. I pick it up. “Hello, this is reception we have a Mr Grey here for you.” The voice on the other end tells me. “Can you ask him if he’d like to come up? If he does send him to my room.” I tell the voice “He says he would love to and is on his way.” A few moments later there is knock on the door. “Enter I call out its open.” I’m sat on the bed as he enters the room he smiles at me and without a word kneels at my feet. I wrap my arms around him and he does the same to me. I look deeply into his eyes before kissing him hard thrusting my tongue in to his mouth I hear him moans a little as we kiss. Pulling away I smile “Hello mine.” He swallows hard catching his breath. “Hello Mistress.” We stay for a moment like that. “Now, I say to him to address your lateness.” I open the top draw and pull out a paddle, Jeans and undies off.” I command him with he does without hesitation. “Bend over the bed.” Is my next instruction to him, he is bent over the bed his bare ass on show. “So mine just how late were you?” I ask. “10 min at most Mistress I promise.” He tells me “So 10 you were late 15 I had to wait here 10 it took me to get here so we missed out on 35 min together because of your lateness. So I think I will spank you 35 times.” He nods his head and I get to work on his ass the redness in his checks building nicely. Soon enough I reach 35 and the tension in my head as gone. I rub some cream in to his ass and he moans in pleasure. I ask him to sit on the bed and as he does I see he has an erection. He blushes as he sees that I have noticed pushing him back on the bed he gasps. Lifting my skirt I pull off my black lace panties tossing them on to his face I climb on to him pinning him down, kissing him hard and deep I slide my wet vagina on to his hard throbbing penis he grunts softly his hips thrusting to mine. I fuck him hard and fast until I finally reach my climax panting deeply he looks in to my eyes “Mistress…. Please may I cum.” he begs, looking down at him I smile. “Only after I do again.” Now rocking slowly my hands move to my breasts, teasing my nipples and caressing my breasts I rock and bounce slowly on his cock. He bites his lip and I smile letting my climax build s l o w l y making him wait for his. After 45 min I finally give in and orgasm again my juices soaking his cock. I hear him grunt and see his face flush as he cums. I collapse on to him and smile and kiss him softly then whisper. “Good boy and thank you mine.” And as I drift off to sleep I hear “Your welcome and Thank you Mistress. I love you.”
THE END
Heat by Lady Dalia
Nothing is hotter than the sound of my hand on bare flesh, spanking, feeling skin tighten and lift to meet you, a dance of heat, desire and sound. No tool could ever replace the hand for intimacy, caressing, teasing, demanding. Every hand is unique and only my touch speaks of me, lingering over red skin to be remembered.. Dalia
The Point by Anonymous
The point.
She stared at him. He was such a beautiful sight. Naked, on his back on the bed, his feet cuffed to his ankles. He was probably expecting that she would use the strap-on, as she had on so many other occasions. But not tonight, she had something else planned entirely. She smiled to herself as she inspected her work. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest. Her nerves were tingling with nervous anticipation. They had talked about this, his desire to have it done, her desire to try it. It wasn’t something most people would consent to, or have an interest in, but that was ok, they both knew that they were far different from other people.
Slowly her fingers trailed from his ankle to his knees, her nails dragging against his skin. A delicious shiver ran across his body at her touch. She continued to run her nails over his skin digging in a times, leaving bright red lines over various parts of his body. He wiggled and moved, unable to keep still or silent as she laughed and dug her fingernails in harder. She was at times gentle and playful, tickling his sides, making him squirm. The entire time; telling him what a good slut he was, and she was going to have fun with her filthy whore.
Earlier in the day she had prepared her surprise. How difficult it was not to let on, to keep it a secret. She was so excited to play with him, to do this that she spent hours dreaming about it, planning. From the first time he mentioned it, she had fantasized about what it would be like. What it would feel like. She had no doubts it would turn him on. He would be hard and aching long before she even got to what she had planned. She’d told him they would do something new today, but not exactly what.
This particular activity didn’t seem to have any special safety equipment to sort out. She’d researched, watched videos, spoke to others online that had tried it. “Keep it clean” was really the only advice she’d had. So she took due diligence, and make sure all the tools were sterile as possible. Other than the tools and lube, all she had was an ice cold damp hand towel, which she’d taken from the fridge and placed over his face, both to shock him a bit and to keep him from watching her as she worked.
Reaching down she wrapped her hand gently around his balls. He jumped a bit at first, uncertain as to the intent of her touch. She smiled quietly to herself at his tensing and whispered in her low, soft voice “Relax, Mine”, which he did at the comforting tone of her words. As she felt the weight of him, the soft, stretchy skin in her warm hands, he started to harden for her. Taking a steel cock ring, she slid it down his shaft and began working his balls through it. The harder he got, the more difficult it would be to put that on. After working his balls through it, she gave his genitals a nice tug while pushing the ring against his body to be certain nothing was pinching, and to know it was on securely. She chuckled as her boy groaned and became fully erect.
She stroked his shaft a bit, running her thumb up and down the length of him pressed against the back of his shaft. Swirling the pad of the finger against then up and over the tip of him. His soft moans of pleasure and quiet “Thank you, Mistress” being the only encouragement she needed. She continued touching him right until she began to notice just a slight bit of pre ooze from the tip of him. “That’s my slut, good boy” she told him, in a light playful voice. A breathless “Yes, Mistress” his only reply.
She uncovered the tray she’d had on the bed with them, and looked over the lube and the small assortment of thin, perfect 27 gauge sterile needles that she’d ordered special for this occasion. Yes, they’d played with needles before. But not like today. No, today she was going to do something new. She had his consent; the blindfold was more to keep him calm. Taking a bit of sterile lube she covered the top of his shaft in it, making him even impossibly harder for her. The slickness of it against her warm fingertips, making her fingers slide deliciously over him, making her chuckle and he groaned even louder. No doubt he was thinking she would ride him.
Luckily he was quite veiny when rock hard. This made it easy to mark his shaft with red and black sharpie. Red for blood vessels to avoid. Black for where to place the pins. No doubt he could not tell what she was doing, and was a bit confused by feel of the pen. Once marked to her liking, she tossed the pens back on the tray. She leaned forward and whispered in her boy’s ear in her most demanding, velvety voice “Are you ready, my darling boy?” There was of course only one answer when she prompted him in this way. “Yes Mistress” was the nervous reply.
Slowly she tore the first needle from its package. It’s plastic gray bottom in her fingers. She pinched some skin at the base of his penis and let him know “You’re going to feel a slight pinch on your penis…” and using the plastic end for leverage she slid the needle quickly through the pinched skin. Her boy gasped loudly “Holy Fuck!” he yelped as his body went rigid. To his credit, he remained rock hard. She opened another pin and ran it through the skin of his cock right above the first. Her boy groaning with each prick. The more needles she ran through his skin, the more pre-cum leaked from his shaft. He’d figured out what was happening, and was just as excited as she was.
After 27 pins, she removed the towel covering his face, which was no longer chilled, now being as warm as his face. Allowing him to lean up slightly and look at her beautiful handiwork, he stared at his hard, dripping penis in awe. It was nearly outlined with the little grey nubs that were the signature back end of the needles. Gingerly she ran her fingertips over the top of his shaft, his cock jumping with the touch of her. “It’s so sensitive, my Mistress” he said reverently, with complete awe for what he was witnessing. She unlocked one of his wrists from its cuff so her boy could touch it. Which he did, wide eyed and maybe even with a bit of fear.
“So my boy, you think I could get you to come with all those pins in?” she said with a wicked bit of laughter. His voice shaking slightly “I’m sure my Mistress, you could do anything to me…”
She stared at him. He was such a beautiful sight. Naked, on his back on the bed, his feet cuffed to his ankles. He was probably expecting that she would use the strap-on, as she had on so many other occasions. But not tonight, she had something else planned entirely. She smiled to herself as she inspected her work. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest. Her nerves were tingling with nervous anticipation. They had talked about this, his desire to have it done, her desire to try it. It wasn’t something most people would consent to, or have an interest in, but that was ok, they both knew that they were far different from other people.
Slowly her fingers trailed from his ankle to his knees, her nails dragging against his skin. A delicious shiver ran across his body at her touch. She continued to run her nails over his skin digging in a times, leaving bright red lines over various parts of his body. He wiggled and moved, unable to keep still or silent as she laughed and dug her fingernails in harder. She was at times gentle and playful, tickling his sides, making him squirm. The entire time; telling him what a good slut he was, and she was going to have fun with her filthy whore.
Earlier in the day she had prepared her surprise. How difficult it was not to let on, to keep it a secret. She was so excited to play with him, to do this that she spent hours dreaming about it, planning. From the first time he mentioned it, she had fantasized about what it would be like. What it would feel like. She had no doubts it would turn him on. He would be hard and aching long before she even got to what she had planned. She’d told him they would do something new today, but not exactly what.
This particular activity didn’t seem to have any special safety equipment to sort out. She’d researched, watched videos, spoke to others online that had tried it. “Keep it clean” was really the only advice she’d had. So she took due diligence, and make sure all the tools were sterile as possible. Other than the tools and lube, all she had was an ice cold damp hand towel, which she’d taken from the fridge and placed over his face, both to shock him a bit and to keep him from watching her as she worked.
Reaching down she wrapped her hand gently around his balls. He jumped a bit at first, uncertain as to the intent of her touch. She smiled quietly to herself at his tensing and whispered in her low, soft voice “Relax, Mine”, which he did at the comforting tone of her words. As she felt the weight of him, the soft, stretchy skin in her warm hands, he started to harden for her. Taking a steel cock ring, she slid it down his shaft and began working his balls through it. The harder he got, the more difficult it would be to put that on. After working his balls through it, she gave his genitals a nice tug while pushing the ring against his body to be certain nothing was pinching, and to know it was on securely. She chuckled as her boy groaned and became fully erect.
She stroked his shaft a bit, running her thumb up and down the length of him pressed against the back of his shaft. Swirling the pad of the finger against then up and over the tip of him. His soft moans of pleasure and quiet “Thank you, Mistress” being the only encouragement she needed. She continued touching him right until she began to notice just a slight bit of pre ooze from the tip of him. “That’s my slut, good boy” she told him, in a light playful voice. A breathless “Yes, Mistress” his only reply.
She uncovered the tray she’d had on the bed with them, and looked over the lube and the small assortment of thin, perfect 27 gauge sterile needles that she’d ordered special for this occasion. Yes, they’d played with needles before. But not like today. No, today she was going to do something new. She had his consent; the blindfold was more to keep him calm. Taking a bit of sterile lube she covered the top of his shaft in it, making him even impossibly harder for her. The slickness of it against her warm fingertips, making her fingers slide deliciously over him, making her chuckle and he groaned even louder. No doubt he was thinking she would ride him.
Luckily he was quite veiny when rock hard. This made it easy to mark his shaft with red and black sharpie. Red for blood vessels to avoid. Black for where to place the pins. No doubt he could not tell what she was doing, and was a bit confused by feel of the pen. Once marked to her liking, she tossed the pens back on the tray. She leaned forward and whispered in her boy’s ear in her most demanding, velvety voice “Are you ready, my darling boy?” There was of course only one answer when she prompted him in this way. “Yes Mistress” was the nervous reply.
Slowly she tore the first needle from its package. It’s plastic gray bottom in her fingers. She pinched some skin at the base of his penis and let him know “You’re going to feel a slight pinch on your penis…” and using the plastic end for leverage she slid the needle quickly through the pinched skin. Her boy gasped loudly “Holy Fuck!” he yelped as his body went rigid. To his credit, he remained rock hard. She opened another pin and ran it through the skin of his cock right above the first. Her boy groaning with each prick. The more needles she ran through his skin, the more pre-cum leaked from his shaft. He’d figured out what was happening, and was just as excited as she was.
After 27 pins, she removed the towel covering his face, which was no longer chilled, now being as warm as his face. Allowing him to lean up slightly and look at her beautiful handiwork, he stared at his hard, dripping penis in awe. It was nearly outlined with the little grey nubs that were the signature back end of the needles. Gingerly she ran her fingertips over the top of his shaft, his cock jumping with the touch of her. “It’s so sensitive, my Mistress” he said reverently, with complete awe for what he was witnessing. She unlocked one of his wrists from its cuff so her boy could touch it. Which he did, wide eyed and maybe even with a bit of fear.
“So my boy, you think I could get you to come with all those pins in?” she said with a wicked bit of laughter. His voice shaking slightly “I’m sure my Mistress, you could do anything to me…”
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