Wednesday, June 15, 2016

The Spanking by Anonymous

It had been a difficult week. It began with high hopes when his Domme had asked him to join Her at a private party. He had been a good boy, mostly, for the last month when he pleased Her by giving excellent service at the last event they had attended. To the best of his knowledge he hadn’t "written any more checks that his ass needed to cash" as She had preferred to call bad behavior.

Unfortunately, then came Monday. The day started off innocently enough until he made his first call of the day. An important deal hadn’t gone as hoped and it meant a probable delay in finalizing it. The rest of the day went downhill from there. The biggest help with all the turmoil came from Her who totally supported his efforts. Sadly there were a few times during the week that he let frustration and whimsy get the better of him and he wrote several 'checks' he knew She would 'cash' at the party.

The last 2 days before the party he felt the anxiety start to build. His mind kept asking what’s going to happen, what will it be like, how will he react. The curiosity battled with the anxiety causing a state of heightened awareness of everything going on around him. He asked what Her plans were, but She responded as She usually did, “I will decide when we are there and know what the possibilities are.” It was the most logical and sensible approach, yet it frustrated him because there was no way to mentally prepare for anything specific beyond the fact he would suffer pain for her. That he would also feel the endorphin rush and subspace, most likely, was somewhat comforting, but didn’t make the anxiety of the impending pain go away.

Finally the day arrived. The morning seemed to crawl as he forced himself to focus on the tasks at hand before the party. He spoke to Her as usual with a greeting and report of his current mental and physical status. He listened attentively to Her about how She was doing that day and felt his anxiety start to build as he realized She was doing well and looking forward to the evening. The day began to speed up and soon it was lunchtime then dinner and finally time to leave for the party.

The trip was agonizingly slow, as it seemed to take forever to get to the place. He finally arrived and found a parking spot, happy to note She was already there. He walked to the door after texting his arrival note to Her. She greeted him at the door with a warm hug and led the way to a room where others had gathered and were getting acquainted. She set a pillow on the ground before Her and he knelt on it bowing his head. He was gratified when he felt Her hand lift his chin and She slid Her collar in place securing it comfortably around his neck.

They spent some time being introduced to people he didn’t know grateful to hear Her introduce him as Her minion, boy or servant. After a sometime had passed the Hosts welcomed everyone more formally and informed every one of the rules for the party. It was now very real. With this announcement and the look on Her face, it was obvious it was really going to happen tonight. He was going to get the spanking that he deserved from his misplaced humor, earworms and occasional misdirected release of frustration.

He continued to give the best service to Her he knew how to give. He hoped it would make Her more lenient in Her check cashing. Inwardly he knew that it was a vain hope. She would do what She knew to be right for him. Indeed that was one of the things he respected most about Her. She took care of him and worked hard to build him up and help him become a better person both physically and mentally. Such caretaking is always deserving of the best he could offer Her. He even understood these corrections of behavior were meant to help him change in some cases and were actually rewards for him in others.

She caught his attention, “Minion, come here.” She commanded.

He came to her and knelt before her as she continued speaking. “You know that during the last week you have written a few checks. It is time to cash them. Remove your clothing down to your underwear.”

He complied making sure he neatly folded his shirt and pants and placed his socks in his shoes. She motioned to her bag and ordered “Get my bag and bring it here. Then I want you to bring out my wooden hairbrush.”

“Do you wish your crops and floggers Ma’am?” he asked tentatively.

She responded, “No, just the brush for now.”

He opened the bag carefully so as not to let anything fall out and found Her brush. After pulling it out he closed the bag and knelt at Her feet, presenting the brush to Her. She took it from his hand and set it beside Her.

“Stand up minion.” She said.

He complied and she motioned for him to come closer. He stepped closer not sure where this was heading. She grabbed the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down to his knees. Instinctively he reached down to take them off completely but she told him, “No, leave them there and lay across my lap.”

He hesitated because she had never spanked him over her knee before, but she grabbed his hand and helped him lay across her knee. He meekly said, “I’m sorry Ma’am, I apologize for all the checks I wrote this week.”

“I accept your apology minion. This cleansing spanking is meant to clear the slate between us so we can start anew for the next week.” She said lovingly.

He felt her warm hand caress his bottom and his mind went on high alert. “Please be gentle Ma’am.” he pleaded. “I said I was sorry and I really am sorry.” he begged, his voice tentative and concerned about the pain he was about to feel.

He felt her hand lift from his butt and braced for the sting. Slap! Her hand came down on his soft skin and he flinched gritting his teeth. Slap, came another blow on the other cheek. Followed by three more on each cheek in succession. He struggled to not reach his hand back and keep his legs straight. Then he felt Her hand gently caressing his already warm skin. She parted his legs so she could get at some more sensitive areas on his inner thighs.

Slap! Slap! Her hand hit the back of each thigh. Then a series of rapid fire spanks on his sit spot of each cheek. She caressed his butt again and asked, “How are you doing minion?” It was a quick check in cause he knew She was far from finished.

He spoke honestly. “It hurts Ma’am, but I’m ok. Please be gentle.”

He realized the last bit of pleading was a useless gesture of surrender that said in reality “I am here to accept your sentence and serve it as I serve you with all I can give Ma’am.”

He gave an involuntary gasp when he realized she had picked up the brush and was running it over his thighs, butt and between his legs. He was surprised when the first stroke hit between his legs above his scrotum near where the thighs meet the butt. She caressed his cheeks with the brush briefly before…Smack! Smack! A double hit set his bum on fire for a second. He started to reach back with his hand and then restrained himself breathing deeply in and out in and out.

She caressed again and when the brush lifted off the skin She felt him tense up in anticipation of the next stroke. Instead, she caressed his bottom with her free hand causing him to relax, then rapidly removed her hand and brought the brush down with medium force 5 times in a row on the exact same spot. He cried out “Fuck Ouch Ma’am Damn it!!!”

She switched to the other cheek and let loose 5 more medium swings on the exact same spot on that one. “OHHH God Fuck Ma’am Ouch’ He cried some more as tears started to fill his eyes. His hands started to reach back with each stroke but he restrained himself each time. He breathed deeply forcing himself to relax in and out in and out in and out. She caressed his butt some more and he relaxed further in her control. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Landed on the backs of his thighs two each. He lifted his body halfway through those 4, just a bit, letting her knows how much those strokes hurt but he collapsed and began to cry softly whimpering apologies.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! 4 more rained down on his butt, each one followed by a curse and whimpering. She raised the brush one more time and brought it down in a rapid succession not counting the strokes but spanking until he cried “Red Ma’am OMG Red.”

She gently laid the brush down and began to caress his hot red bottom gently running her other fingers through his hair whispering what a good boy he was. She helped him get in a more comfortable position in her arms holding him gently wiping his tears, telling him “It’s all over, the slate is clean. You are such a good boy.”

He was in a dreamlike state deep in space as the endorphin's flooded his body, aware of only her soothing voice and warm caresses. Gently sobbing and repeating, “I am sorry Ma’am, so sorry. Please forgive me I’ll be good.”

She kept cuddling him until the sobs were replaced with a contented smile. She handed him his water bottle and he drank from it greedily. “Thank you Ma’am. I needed that so much.” he managed to whisper.

When he was ready he got up and pulled his boxers up grimacing when they touched his very sore bottom. “May I get some food please Ma’am?” he asked.

She responded affirmatively. “May I get you something as well Ma’am?” he asked remembering he was still in service to Her.

“Yes Minion,” she responded, “ you know what I need.”

He went to the food table and fixed two plates with appropriate food for both of them and then went back to her. He handed her the plate he fixed for her and started to sit at her feet. She stopped him and patted beside her with her one arm open for him to cuddle some more as they restored their energy.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Anonymous Confession

Please allow this to be anonymous

I had to write this confession as it means a lot to me.  The distance is great and the time never seems to cooperate.  You were one of the ones I first met here.  Your patience with my stumbling s had been immense.  You never judged me in a serious way but have always been quick to correct a mistake.  Your heart is taken by someone else and I probably don't have a right to say these things.  I just have to tell you, in my own silly way, how I feel.

Here is the hard part.  I won't say your name as I don't want to embarrass you, nor do I want to put pressure on you.  I will admire from afar and will always appreciate what we have.  To call you "friend", if a submissive can be a friend with a Domme, is good enough for me.

I will always admire your strength, beauty, and mind.  You are very smart and always kind.  For this I am grateful.  I think the Dominion is blessed to have you in their midst.

Perhaps in another lifetime things could have been different but I wouldn't change a thing.  I cherish the little bit of time we have had and will continue to enjoy the times we may have in the future.

I know this doesn't rhyme as I am not a poet but this is my confession and I just wanted to show it.

Thank you for allowing me to share.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Fucktoy by Lady Peregrine

by Peregrine Jules

"Slut!" I summon you from another room. You're on your feet when you arrive at the entryway of the bedroom, but immediately drop to your knees. You find me standing on a plush rug at the center of the room. "Yes, Mistress?"

I look at you-- your nakedness, your submissive posture, your caged cock. Instantly, I'm even more aroused than I was when I called. I experience a rush of heat between my legs and my clit throbs. "Come here, slut."

As you crawl across the room, I strip off my jeans and panties, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. I enjoy the surprised expression on your face.

When you arrive at my feet, I grab you by the collar and pull your face into my neatly trimmed mound, holding you tightly to me so you can smell my arousal and feel my wetness on the bridge of your nose.

My other hand appears above you, a pair of handcuffs dangle from one finger. "Cuff your hands behind your back." You whimper. I maintain the tension on your collar, holding your nose to my cunt. Obediently, you clamp one cuff around a wrist and then, clumsily, cuff it to the other wrist behind you.

As soon as the second cuff locks into place, I command,"Do your job, bitch." Your tongue slides into my cunt, I moan and step my feet wide, never letting go of your collar. You press your tongue into me, tongue fucking me. You can tell I have no patience for niceties. I grind my clit against your nose, using you. My cries of pleasure soon reward you.

Just as suddenly as it began, it ends. I shove you away. You look up at me, stunned, your nose, lips, and cheeks glisten with my juices. You open your mouth to speak, but I slap you before you can utter a word. "Quiet!" The blow whips your head to the side and upsets your balance; you just manage to stay upright. I can see the hurt and confusion in your eyes, but I'm in no mood to baby you. A perfect handprint burns scarlet on your cheek.

"Stand up, bitch." You have no idea what I mean to do, but you scramble to your feet as gracefully as possible.

I move to the edge of the bed, dragging you with me. When I sit, your caged cock is directly in front of my face. Your arousal is stunted by the cage and by your confusion. Part of me wants to keep you caged, to torment you, to arouse you until your cock is straining against the bars and the pain is unbearable. ‘Next time,’ I promise myself; my current needs are more urgent.

I produce the key to your cage, lifting it from where it lays between my breasts. Without ceremony, I unlock your cage and remove it. I flick your limp, freed cock with my fingernail. "You should always be ready for me, bitch." Your cock throbs. "If you can't get it up then I'll just strap a nice thick dildo to your face and you'll miss out on the chance to fuck me." Your cock throbs again, responding to its new found freedom and to the mocking tone in my voice. As it hardens, I smack it firmly, first one side, then the other. I build to full on slaps. Your cock swells until it’s fully erect. "That's better."

I grip your chin harshly, tomorrow you'll have bruises where my fingers dug into your skin. "You better not give me any trouble. I drained you two days ago. I don't want to hear any whining about needing to stop. If you cum, I will stripe your dirty, pathetic cock with my flogger and bruise those greedy balls with my crop. Got it?"

You manage to squeak out a "Yes, Mistress."

I release your jaw and pat your cheek roughly. "Good."

Grabbing your stiff cock, I jerk you towards me. You wince, but manage to override the instinct to pull away from my rough grip. I guide you to my cunt. Laying back on the bed, I hook my legs over your shoulders and command "Fuck me till I cum, slut." You push your hips forward, pressing your cock into me. You bite your lip to avoid gasping as my velvet heat swallows you, correctly guessing that any indication that your cock is anything more than a dildo will infuriate me.

Your movements are slow and gentle. I slap you again, embellishing your cheek with another lovely hand print. I reach up and grab you by the collar, jerking you forward. "Did I say ‘make love to me?'" With a gasp of pain and a mumbled apology you press your cock deep inside me and start pounding me.

Keeping a firm grip on your collar, I lean back and close my eyes. My free hand drifts down to my clit to circle it furiously.

You drive your cock into me, desperate to please. You watch me for some sign of approval, but your presence has faded from my mind, you are merely a dick now, a tool.
My grip on your collar is punishing, your neck strains as you try to remain upright. Your cheek smarts. Your jaw aches. Worse, my cunt clenches tighter and tighter around your cock as my pleasure builds. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and claw your fingers into your palms, anything to distract yourself from your own pleasure. My moans and cries and whimpers torment you. Still, you drive your cock into me, plunging forward, again, again, like a jackhammer. Silently, you pray that I cum quickly, that I won't cruelly hold back just to torture you.

When I explode into orgasm tears of relief fill your eyes. Yet, I don't command you to stop.

Instead, now, I'm examining your face, watching you with a wicked grin. Every second feels like an age. Your mind grasps desperately for anything to else focus on, anything but the tightness and heat of my cunt around your desperate cock.

"Do you want to cum, slut?" My voice is deliberately low, deliberately seductive.

"Yes!" you gasp, filled with hope.

With a cruel laugh, I plant a foot on your chest and I shove you back. Without your hands to break your fall, you hit the floor hard and it knocks the air from your lungs. You lie there. Stunned. Defeated. Your cock still hard and throbbing. You begin to weep.

You lose track of me until I'm standing over you. Something cold and metal hits your cheek and bounces onto the carpet in front of you. A key.

"I'll let you figure out how to free your hands," I say, "Your cage is on the sofa, lock your slutty cock back up. I'm going to take a shower." I pause, "Dinner better not be late."

"She" by Cam


She fucks me.

Not in the conventional way.  You know, lying me down and riding me until she cums.  Although she does that.  She does it so well.

Not in the unconventional way.  You know, tying me to a bench, spreading my legs and taking my hole with a strap-on.  Although She does that.  She does it so well.  Almost too well.

Not in a sadistic way either; by tying me down and cropping me all over, or dripping hot wax on me until I'm shaking, writhing, begging to be released.  Although She does that.  She definitely does that well.

No, She fucks me in entirely novel ways.  With a word. With a laugh. With a smile. With nothing more than a look.  She fucks with my head.  My mind. I'm not a superstitious guy, I don't do voodoo, but you might even say She fucks with my soul.

I don't know how She does this; again, superstitiously, it's magic.  Black magic, maybe.  Maybe She has a little doll, made with a few grey hairs and wearing a little lavender shirt She made from a piece of mine.  Maybe I don't want to know.  It would destroy the magic.

She is the first thing I think of when I wake up.  She is the one my thoughts turn to when my mind is idling through the workday, In the evenings when we're together, She fills my mind.

When She says "Hi", I smile.  Its a reflex and I can't stop doing it.

She is so many things to me.

She is demanding
She is caring
She is cruel
She is compassionate
She is crushing
She is supportive
She is angry
She is my first, in so many ways, and my only

Most of those, She is loving.  Her love fills me, surrounds me, sustains and supports me.  I can try to return it, but I'll never match her love.

Nor should I.  It's not a zero-sum game.  Love returned is love multiplied.  So I return what I can and we're left with a mutual surplus.

You know who She is.  She is my Mistress.  And I'm proud She calls me Mine.

Confession by Anonymous

I'm not much a fan of RP really, but I recently went to a type of sim I thought I'd like and decided to give it a try. After one or two visits, I encountered a male character who had apparently been sexually assaulting female characters on the sim. I was sitting in a cafe when one of his victims walked in, all distraught from having seen him. He was standing outside the cafe, staring her down and preventing her from leaving. I then approached the guy outside the cafe and told him that his presence was disturbing this girl, and that he should leave. He argued, but eventually walked away. After walking the girl to her door, I figured out what I wanted my character to be.

For anyone familiar with the show Dexter, my idea was something like a female Dexter, but for sex offenders. Dark, I know, but I thought it could be interesting. So, I waited around a bit for the guy to really leave (he'd only walked a block away), and he eventually headed back to his place. I followed him, waited a bit, then knocked on his door.

He opened the door naked, I unphasedly (it's a word if I say it's a word) asked if I could come in, and he accepted. I then injected him in the neck with a substance to temporarily paralyze him, let him drop to the floor and rummaged around his house for a broomstick. You can imagine what happened next.

I don't intend to go back, but it made for an interesting story. Shocking to some, I'm sure, but if one can create a rapist character, why not a vigilante rapist?

Belong To Me by Anonymous

You want to belong to me, don’t you?

You want that sensation of connectedness- you know I’m cruel, beautiful- I light up the room when I enter it. You’ve seen me naked, moon pale, lips and cunt slashes of petal pink. You’ve seen me in tight black, perched atop spike heels, wide hips swaying.

You’ve seen me look over my shoulder at you, belly down on the bed, your borrowed t-shirt not quite reaching to the full swell of my ass, draping loose around my little body. You’ve touched me. Tasted me, been inside me. Nobody knows my body better than you now, other than me.

Now you get to see me come through the door every day, get to press your face into my lap whenever you need a pick me up with my warmth and female scent.  You’re hooked.

But you know you could never, never own me. You’re afraid of that, afraid of watching my perfect ass for the last time as I leave for work. Afraid of how I make you feel, all weak inside, because you crave me in a way that borders on a real addiction.

We both know if you wanted you could wall yourself up. Go all tough guy and cold, cut of your nose and spite your face and walk away yourself. But you don’t want to. You want to make me stay. I make you force yourself to tell me all your dirty little secrets and tender places.

You want to wake up to feeling my cage around your cock, to fall asleep next to my warm body wriggling in under your arm, the little yelp and pout as I  tweak one erect nipple though your T Shirt. You want to feel my tongue on your balls, lips around, nibbling, nuzzling.

You want to feel my hand on your throat, the cuffs on your wrists, spreading out splayed on the bed. You want to feel my cunt eat every inch of you as I straddle your lap. You want me to force you to meet my eyes, even as you try to look away.

It’s something I know you crave. You want to be vulnerable to me, kneel for me, take pain for me. You know nobody else is capriciously loving and cruel, can make you hurt with a smile and then kiss you like she means it.

We’ve been playing these little games for a long time, haven’t we? Every time the stakes get a little higher. Remember the first game I made you play where you traded one hard spank to get to kiss my lips?

Or remember the day I told you I loved you? You were sitting tender for a week, but you got lured in when I told you I had a secret and then you just had to beg to know.

But this game is bigger than that, and it’s got a forfeit. What are you going to give to have me for keeps?

You know the answer- there’s a price to pay for your pleasure. You have to submit to me. Completely.

Catch Of The Day by Anonymous


"Catch of the Day" Fantasy Scene

The day was dark and rainy, and thoughts ran dark and rampant in her mind as she opened the car door ready for another day on the streets. All at once a call came out on the squad car radio and as she raced to the scene, she noticed a fast moving vehicle career around a corner. In a moment the race was on. Her adrenaline pumping, she used her superior driving skills to pass the other car and force it to a stop. The suspect jumped from his car: a fine specimen, muscles glistening in sweat and rain, the smell of his fear was apparent, like prey. He tried to run, but her special forces training meant he was no match for her. She slammed him to the ground and hand cuffed his wrists and ankles, then leant down to whisper threats in his ears. His sweat permeated her nostrils, the fear exciting her as she shoved him into the back of her car.

The smell of the sea, as she drove to the abandoned warehouse on the wharf, aroused her. She knew what was coming, but he did not. He excitement growing, her whole body felt electrified. Whispering for him to be a good boy, she pulled him into the abandoned warehouse and over to a rusted hook jutting out from a long wooden. She placed his cuff chains on the hook and began to hoist him up, his loud protests only drove her further into this dark place. She blindfolded him with a an old rag, warning him that a gag would be next if there were more whining. He fell silent at first, as he contemplated what he now thought might be his end. But then as this splendid specimen wiggled on the hook he began whispering, ‘please let me live’. Slowly she pulled out her combat knife - it felt so good, this adrenaline rush. It was addictive, better than drugs. As she cut all his clothes off, the tip of the blade nicked his skin causing him to scream out. She slapped him hard to shut him up, humiliating him by calling him a baby who whined at a mere nick.  Once he was naked, she slowly slid her hands up and down his naked form, then to his cock , watching with a sick fascination as he grew harder and harder. They are all the same she thought, just hard cocks, always ready to please. She gripped his cock hard in her hand and placed the knife blade to his balls, wondering if she should castrate him for all his crimes about which she already knew. She slid her gloved finger into his anus and found a plastic bag. ‘Cocaine? Such a bad boy’ she said. He fell silent again knowing he was in serious trouble now. Her hand gripped his pulsating cock hard, sliding it up and down, feeling his pulse beat fast in his shaft. ‘Maybe I will not castrate you after all, that would be a waste’ she said. Thrusting her finger in his anus, finger fucking his asshole hard, her smile grew wide as he cried out. She slid another finger in, wondering how many he could take, whispering, ‘In prison it would be worse, so let me prepare you’.

She then retrieved one of her toys, a bull whip, and lifted the blind fold slightly , smiling into his eyes and then covered them once more. As he begged and she pulled her arm back before the whip cut through the air and landed on his skin with a snap. He screamed and she wondered how many he would be able to take. But she had more toys after all to play with and picking up her favourite flogger she looked at the man toy swing on the hook upside down, the welts rearing up , a vibrant red colour. Slowly she dragged the flogger over his skin, watching the goose bumps rise, then quickly snaps it against his balls. He screamed loudly , the dark warehouse because his own personal hell, as she flogged his balls until they were first red then blue. His thighs quivered as they were and beaten, but she could stop now: her high just felt so good.

‘I have a sure fire reform plan here’, she laughed to herself, as she turned to smouldering coals in the fireplace. She took a needle and placed it in the fire to heat it up and then pierced the head of his cock. His screams and entreaties only aroused her more, and she pulled out from her pocket a silver ring with her name on it, fitting it to the piercing. ‘This is now mine’, she whispered, as she leashed his cock. She pulled the leash and watched his muscular body sway back and forth , entertaining her. She spanked him over and over as he swung on the hook, her new play thing, then warned him in a soft voice, that if the ring ever came out, he would go straight to prison or, even worse, she would lock him up in her own special place for special guests.

She tightened his cuffs, watching them bite into his skin then pulled her baton out from its holder and began to hit the back of his legs, while he struggled like a fish on the hook, screaming like a woman. After an hour, she grew tired of beating her new toy. She grabbed his hard cock, pleased all that torture had not make it flaccid. ‘There might be hope for him yet’ she thought. She began to stroke him hard and fast. His cock betraying him, he begged her to stop. ‘Now he understands how all those women feel that he abuses’ she thought, for she knew his criminal record. She stroked him faster , wanting to humiliate him, laughing , slapping his hard cock hard, over and over, then squeezes her fingers tighter and tighter, sliding up and down, until he exploded all over himself. Catching some in her hand , she shoved into mouth as his body shuddered in orgasm, causing him to choke and gag before smearing the rest all over his face. , oh what a site to see. The day grew later and so she let him down from the hook, warning that he was now her personal informant, in more ways than one. Finally she let him scoop up his clothes and run from the warehouse. She laughed as she watched him flee, and told herself that in any event, no one would ever believe his story.

Confession by Eric

After coming back to Second Life from being gone for a while, I answered a message in a Tease and Denial group I am a member of.  The message asked if anyone was up for some teasing and I responded saying that I would be.  I met the Lady in a public area and we talked to discuss what it was we were looking for.  Once we were done talking we traveled to a sim where I was locked in a cage naked.  She began to tease me until I edge three times.  She asked if I wanted to climax and I said yes.  Then she laid out the terms of my being allowed to climax.  I had to agree to one week locked in a chastity belt with the understanding I would not orgasm for one week, in both SL and RL.  My confession is I have manually stimulated myself to orgasm without permission and broke the covenant I had made with the Lady.

Confession by Dann

untitled poem by Dann Vale

I sat one day in the airport lounge
Looking at all the well-dressed people at the international gate
Who has a whip in her valise?
Who longs for another to decide his fate?
Can I discern something about those headed to Amsterdam rather than Shannon?
Is there leather in the bags headed to San Francisco?
Or high collared lace on its way to Rome?
Debauchery may be in the mind or on the street
Which is more and which is less sweet?

Which stylish woman, relaxing on an Eames chair,
Will listen to my dreams unfair
Tho’ hers be filthier if she shared her worst
It’s not polite to project my lurid thoughts on an unsuspecting lady
But let me hear just once what terrible things she imagines when she looks my way

Second Life taps deeply into the first
Wander the grid and look for truth
Perhaps it’s in a latex dress
Maybe in bondage distress
Look for smiles amongst the perverts
Who lacks humor, lacks worth
Search SL for femme et domme
It won’t be long before you find the place of your wishes
And here we are in Disneyland… for subs

Confessions Fantasy by Anonymous

I am blindfolded, locked in a cage, in a cellar, my arms pinned behind me with steel cuffs. I cannot tell how long I have been there. In the long hours of silent darkness, time has lost its meaning. I remember my brief glimpse of the cellar before the blindfold – there are no windows, the walls are thick, unpainted brick. No sound leaks in from outside, and I know no sound can escape.

I hear the cellar door open, and Mistress's footsteps on the tiled floor. I can hear padlocks being undone. The cage door swings on its hinges; Mistress's hand grabs my hair, and she pulls me out. It is difficult for me to crawl because my wrists are cuffed and my limbs are stiff through disuse, but she does not seem to care, and roughly tugs me out onto the cellar floor. There is quiet for a moment – my senses seem supernaturally alert. I can hear Mistress breathing and hear the silken rustle of her clothes as she moves around me. Something is slipped over my neck, and I realise it is a noose as the rope is suddenly tightened and I am jerked up onto my feet. I can hear the squeal of a pulley as Mistress draws in another inch of play, pulling me up onto tiptoe. I panic as I feel the rope tighten around my throat, and try to breathe in shallow gasps. I hear the rasp of hemp against metal as Mistress knots the end of the rope on a wall-hook somewhere, then the sound of her high heels on the tiled floor as she returns to me. I can feel my heart hammering in my chest. Suddenly she slaps me over and over, and I feel the rope around my neck tighten each time her blows jerk my head from side to side. When it ceases I am semi-dazed, and struggling to stay on tiptoe.

I hear the sound of a bag being unzipped, and her footsteps as she walks around me. There is a soft swishing sound in the air, and endorphins flood through my body in anticipation. After what seems like an age, the sharp agony of a cane stroke overwhelms my senses. Then another, and another. As the pain continues I hear Mistress's breath become heavier as she leans into each stroke. There is a pause: I can hear absolutely nothing, even though I am blindly straining to make out the slightest sound. Then the awfulness of clamps being fitted to my nipples. There is a constant terrible tugging sensation, and I realise Mistress has added weights to them. I finally begin to cry out for mercy, having told myself that I would not give her the satisfaction of hearing me plead that way. But Mistress moves behind me, and I hear the dreadful swishing again. In the dark, my mind’s eye conjures up an image of the thin cane arcing through the gloom, cutting through the air with a quiet whisper as the half-light gleams along its edge. The first blow lands, and my body tightens in response, the pain driving my movements in a way I cannot control. Blow follows blow follows blow. Within minutes I am begging for mercy, all thoughts of dignity or defiance dissolved in the terribleness of the pain.

Eventually, the caning stops. Mistress's hand curls around my cock and, despite myself, I can feel it becoming hard. The warm softness of her touch slides past my psychological defences to some deep part of my being, and my body responds even as I will it not to. She strokes my stiff cock for what seems like an eternity and I shiver as I hear what I think is a soft laugh. My body betrays me, and I feel my hips buck as I strive to maintain the warmth of her touch against my cock, urgently seeking out the pleasure her fingers are giving. Then her hand releases me.

I hear the bag being opened again, and try to squirm my body blindly around to follow the direction of the sound, the noose cruelly tightening around my neck with each movement. In the renewed silence, I sense the warmth of Mistress's body pressed close against my skin as she stands behind me. I moan as I feel a hard sensation against my ass, and bite my lip as her stiff cock slowly slides up inside me. She reaches around and slowly rubs my cock again, timing her hand movements to each thrust of her cock as it shoves in and out. Even though I feel as though I am being split in two by her hard shaft, I sense my own cock is beginning to near orgasm. But before it can happen, Mistress stops caressing me, and I feel her thrusts become harder and faster as she stands behind me, her hands on my hips, holding me, controlling me.  Again I have to cry out for mercy, but her stiff cock is relentless, shoving in and out of me again and again until I feel myself giving in, slumping down from my toes, her hard cock now the sole centre of my consciousness. As my legs give way, the rope inexorably tightens around my neck, and I succumb to a more profound blackness.

When I come to, I realise Mistress has undone the pulley rope, and that the noose is gone. I try to maintain my balance as I feel her pull me by the hair across the room. After a moment of quiet, Mistress shoves me away and stands over me. I feel hard slaps on my cheeks that seem to last for ever. Then I am dragged back to the cage and thrust inside. I hear the padlocks click shut, then the sounds of her footsteps receding, then the sound of a lock being turned, then only silence in the darkness.

Kiss My Sexy Ass by Lady Lobbie


 BEEP, BEEP, BEEP he turns over and pressed the snooze button on the alarm, he yawns and stretches and for a moment closes his eyes, no,no he cannot go back to sleep as lovely as his bed may be. He turns off the alarm and gets dressed making his way down stairs he starts his morning chores.  His last chore coffee in be for Mistress he places her mug on the tray and makes his way to her room. The door is slightly ajar so he knows to enter without knocking. He pushes the door open and walks in to the room. She is laid on top of her duvet naked; he moans as the subtle sunlight hits her body, her soft slow breathing causing her bum to move up and down, he gulps as he feels himself harder.  He closes his eyes regaining control of his body. Suddenly her voice startles him “Good morning mine.”  She has turned and is propped up on her elbow looking at him. Shit he wonders if she caught him with an erection. She smiles “Is that for me?” “Oh, yes Mistress, who else would it before.” He almost laughs.  He kneels at her bed side lifting the tray towards her she shifts so she is sat up right and takes her mug. “Thank you mine.” She says as she takes a sip. He inwardly breathes a sigh of relief and smiles he got away with it. As she drinks her coffee they chat about the day ahead. She takes the last sip of coffee and places her mug on the tray. “That was lovely.” She comments, he stands and makes his way out of the room. “Mine.” She calls after him. “Yes Mistress?” He answers “When you come back up bring your cock cage with you, don’t think you got away with that display earlier.” Fuck he thinks he looks down at the floor “Sorry Mistress.” He whispers he makes his way to the kitchen washes dry’s and put her mug away then he goes to the box where his cage is kept. He takes it out and inspects it making sure it’s clean as well he also picks up the small pad lock. He makes his way back to her room the door is now closed so he knocks. “One moment.” She calls, so he waits he presses his head against the wall at the side of her door the coolness easing the sweat that had formed on his brow. “Enter.” She calls. He pushes the door; she is now sat on her bed in a white bra and matching lace panties. He walks over to the bed and hands her the cock cage. She also inspects the cage as he knew she would. “Very good” She exclaims as she looks up at him, he sighs as he knows exactly what to do, he drops his trousers and presents himself to her she slow puts the cage on locking it in place making sure it’s comfortable and locked. “Pull them up.” She tells him pointing to his trousers with he does without a sound.  “Now, what got you in to such a state before, mine?” She asks him, he knows better than to lie to her. “I was watching you as you were sleeping Mistress, your bum is so wonderful. I could not help myself.” She smiles and chuckles to herself she rolls over and looks at her bum. He swallows hard feeling the cage do its job. “Ok!” She exclaims and then adds grinning “Kiss, my sexy ass!” “Yes Mistress.” He try’s no to jump on to her bed but he can feel his excitement growing. He lay’s over her legs trying not to put too much of his weight on her. Slowly he starts kissing her right ass cheek small soft kisses ever now and then gently licking. She moves her hand to between her legs pushing it inside her panties she moans as she finds her clit. He lapses concentration for a moment “Who told you to stop?” she snarls at him. He jumps a little and goes back to her ass making sure each side is given equal attention. As he kisses her bum she continues to masturbate her movements getting faster along with her breathing. She is moaning deeply then she grunts as she reaches her orgasm. He does not stop his attention on her ass, “Good boy mine.”  She pants as she collapse on to the bed “You can stop now.” She adds.  She rolls over on to her back and looks down at her panties “Theas were clean, dam.” She looks up at him. “Clean me up mine.” She commands him. “Yes, Mistress.” He says trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. She pulls her panties down and he moves his mouth to her pussy licking the juices from ever spot he can reach. He then puts his mouth around her panties sucking them as well he sits up and smiles “How is that Mistress feeling better?” “Good job and good boy mine” she says as she ruffles his hair. She kicks her panties off and get off the bed she bends over rummaging in her draw. He looks over at her she is waving her ass around. He feels the cage tighten again and he knows she is doing it to tease him. She stands up and slides on a new pair of panties. She goes to her wardrobe and pulls out a low cut t-shirt and tight pair of jeans. She kicks her panties over to him then gets dressed. “Looks like you have more chores.” He knows that in the outfit she has on he shall be feeling his cage a lot during the day. He picks up her panties and they start the day.
By Lobbie Riggles

Pen To Paper by Passion

I was asked once why I stopped writing...

And the answer is you

When my pen first touched paper you were its inspiration, it's muse
every flow and mark a testament of my devotion to you
It would began as no words until it formed structure and weight
filling out pages of endless desire and needs
until the very ink whispered your name
it became my lifes breath
my voice when my own would falter
there my dreams would come alive and prance along the lines
so much truth spilled out among notebooks

You gave that to me in the beginning...
by the end thoughts of optimism were barely even remembrances
shattered emotions screamed across the endless white
doubt, uncertainty, loss became the staples
until the ink ran dry and nothing was left...

I had nothing left to say...
you took that part of me that glowed and shined
not even an ember was left to spark again...
But another brought a match
kicked aside the debris of what was
and lit anew what could be again

So now when asked why I started writing again
I will smile confidently
and my answer will simply be
because she found me and ignited me


Punishment by Mark

They were happy in their relationship. But he had always known that for her there was something missing. Eventually, she told him about her Ds desires, and since then they played briefly several times. But tonight was different. Tonight, she said, she was going to teach him the real meaning of slavery and domination. And so now he knelt at the side of the bed, in a curious mix of trepidation and excitement, listening acutely for sounds from the room next door as she got herself ready. After what seemed an eternity, she entered the bedroom and he felt his pulse quicken as she walked towards him. She was as beautiful as ever and yet at the same time transformed. He had never seen her dressed as a  fantasy domme, and as she paused and stood before him he could not take his eyes from her thigh-length spike heeled boots, the soft silkiness of stocking tops, and the way the corset accentuated her curves. She threw her flogger and cane on the bed, and then carefully placed a heavyish looking wooden box on the bed side table.

‘Tonight’, she said, ‘you are going to feel pain that you have not felt before’.

She ran her fingertips over the discipline instruments as she talked, her red fingernails tracing the lines of the flogger.

‘But understand: that will be just the introduction. Once you are ready, I am going to open this box, and you will know the true meaning of fear’.

He involuntarily glanced at the box. It was fashioned from a dark, dense wood and inlaid into the top were geometric patterns made out in mother-of-pearl. It was, perhaps, 80 centimetres long, and 50 centimetres in height and width. What could it contain? It was big enough to hold something coiled, like a whip. But it had looked heavy enough to contain something metallic, some sort of instrument, some sort of machine. As he gazed at it, his mind told him that he could hear a slight sound. Was there an animal in there?

With no warning, she grabbed him by the hair, shoved him over the edge of the bed, seized her flogger, and began to beat him. She had been right. He had never experienced pain like this. But as each painful blow landed, his eyes were drawn back to the box. If its contents were much worse than the pain of flogging, it had to be a coiled bullwhip, or perhaps a metallic flogger. His ass and back felt as though they were on fire as the heavy flogger thudded down onto him. He could hear her breathing deepen in response to her exertions, and then finally a moment’s respite as she stopped. He could not see her behind him, but as he waited his gaze found the bedside table. The box had moved, and it was then he knew that there was something alive inside it, scurrying, gnawing, its movements causing the box to shift across the tabletop.

This was beyond his capacities for coping. But before he could protest, a different pain engulfed him as the sharp sting of the cane replaced the dull thud of the flogger. He felt tears begin in the corners of his eyes as each cane stroke amplified the agony of the one that had preceded it. Now he really did understand the meaning of pain, the searing heat from each stroke sending waves of it through his entire body. And yet. His gaze fearfully found the wooden box once more. And yet, this was only an introduction. As the speed of her strokes intensified, his tears flowed freely until, suddenly, silence. She threw the cane down, walked across the room, and closed the door behind her.

He waited. The room was silent. Time passed slowly. Eventually, he raised himself from the bed, unsure and timorous. Time passed. Almost without his realising it, his fingertips found the raised mother-of-pearl designs on the lid of the box. He knew that when she came back, he would experience real fear. Time passed. The pain from the flogging and caning eased slightly, but this gave him no comfort. He knew he had yet to undergo the box. Time passed. Eventually, his fear could not be controlled. His fingertips found the little catch at the front of the box, and he slowly raised the lid, almost too afraid to look inside. He raised the lid a tiny amount and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the box’s gloomy interior.. His breath burst from him in an uncontrolled exhalation. There was no animal, waiting to bite and tear at his flesh. His eyes widened as he raised the lid further. There was no whip, no electrical machine, nothing made from cruel, gleaming steel. The box was empty. As the dim light from the bedside lamp finally illuminated its interior, he saw a white rectangle lying on the bottom of the box. Listening carefully for sounds from beyond the bedroom door, he scrabbled frantically to pick it up. It was a white, glossy card, not much bigger than a business card. He could make out black embossed writing on it. Forgetting caution, he drew the card from the box and held it under the shade of the bedside lamp, allowing its light to spill over the card’s surface. One line had been printed on it. As he read it, he finally understood, and the pain of the flogging and caning gave way to a deeper seated fear as he realised what his life was to become. Written on the card, in flowing, curlicue script, were just four words: ‘Welcome to the mindfuck’.

Sandi's Confession

to all the ladies and subs of  The DOMINION FEMDOM

For awhile now i have been looking for a sim where i can relax and be accepted being a postop transwoman,and i finally found it here at the DOMINION FEMDOM,it is hard to goto many places and be treated as an equal,and trust me there are some doozies in sl,so finding a place where i can balance my bdsm side of life and enjoy an intelligent or fun chat can be challenging but here i am at ease,i know with some it is hard to match my voice with how i look but im working on it with my speech specialist and she told me it is a long arduos process but i never  give up i continue on and achieve. So i would  just like to confess that i love all of you ladies and subs for making me feel welcome in such a beautiful place,you all to me are golden and special to me and i hope we have many more discussions together. Its a pleasure to be part of this family
                    thank you

A Strapon A Fav by Miss Pearl

There were three loops for the harness, on for each leg, and one strap that settled in tight over her butt, hugging just over the real roundness of her ass. She admired the rig, although it was more functional than pretty, black, plastic buckles and nylon straps like a backpack. But the large red dildo slotted into the ring nicely, jutting out from her crotch.

Of course he was on his knees, cushion as a conceit on the hardwood plank. His own penis was doing an indecisive climb, awake enough to indicate its interest but also a little coy, like it was unsure if this was the right moment to do more than stretch itself a little.

“This is going inside you in a few minutes, and how much lube I think you deserve is entirely dependent on how much of a little slut your prepared to admit to be,” she lied as convincingly as she could. “So you better suck it good, bitch…”

He was eager, moving forward, mouth reaching, to take the head into his mouth. Un-lubed and uncontaminated, the slightly bulbed tip brushed against his lips before passing through them. She liked his mouth, very male with the faint darkness in the skin above his lips, but full and livid pink, fuckable. When they kissed she almost always wanted to hurt him, letting her teeth close on the swollen tenderness of his lower lip or mashing her mouth into his. She’s read about that in old romance novels of “bruising kisses” and never understood until the first time he’d smiled at her and she wanted to turn that soft mouth into a vulnerable curl of pain.

He was straight but he’d seen enough cocks sucked to improvise. Her strap on was in many ways worse than a real penis, too hard to slip down the throat easily, with none of the give and yield, but she liked it that way, liked that when she took the back of his head and pushed she could make him gag. He whimpered and drooled, and, after a while she grudging relented.

“Go get the towels, you little whore.” Another conceit, but it saved stripping the bed. She took the time to roll a condom onto the now glistening dildo, a kindness as well as a practicality, and he let himself be pushed over onto the bed.

She lifted his legs and threw them akimbo, but she reward him with a dollop of clear, cool lube, stroked slippery against the tight ring of his anus and then massaged the phallus she was wearing with the same hands, leaving both slippery and ready. Grinning, she thrust herself between his legs and guided the head of the fake cock until it’s thick width was pressing insistently into him. Her hand briefly scrubbed over the rough nap of the towel, cleaning it, before she drove forwards, her hips swiveling to home into him and open him up.

“That’s better, slut, isn’t it? You’re so much happier with something inside you, aren’t you?”

Her hand pulled strokes from root to tip, easing him through the roughness, while her mouth crooned obscenities. She liked the noises he made when she was the one penetrating him, so much like her own. Her hips drove with her thighs and her stomach, looking to see just how hard she could jam into him, making him feel at her mercy.

Of course the contraption wasn’t a situation set up for endurance, and she let him enjoy it as well as suffer through it, panting and teasing him until between the insistence of the eight and a half inches of silicone and the hand on his prick he was spurting out all over his belly, milky semen into the grassland of dark strands on white.

Giggling, she him rest on his back, extracting herself. The condom peeled off the dildo neatly, turning tidily inside out, and he made a weak noise, half overwhelmed and half content. Later, they would shower together, the dildo in the bathroom sink waiting to be scrubbed clean to wait its boiling, but for the time being she enjoyed the moment.