Desolation
motion sick and bound
No knowledge of place or time
To confound the senses.
Self-indulgent vanity
Etched in stripes
Sudoku of the deviant kind.
Desolation
No sight or sound
Vomit tipped desert lips and
Swallowed emotion.
Ravaged night-clad soul
Sarcophagus embalmed with
Witching hour shadow bruises.
Desolation
Heartsick and stormy
Mirror of the devastation within.
Sanctified upon the altar
Incarnate lustful Goddess
Merciless,yet pure
Nemesis of my existence.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
An Incident At Halloween by Anonymous
AN INCIDENT AT HALLOWEEN (WITH APOLOGIES TO AMBROSE BIERCE)
It was Halloween Eve and a slave stood upon a railroad bridge at Owl Creek, looking down into the swift water twenty feet below. The slave’s hands were behind his back, the wrists bound with a cord. A rope closely encircled his neck. It was attached to a stout cross-timber above his head and the slack fell to the level of his knees. Some loose boards laid upon the ties supporting the rails of the railway supplied a footing for him and his executioners -- two Mistresses, with rifles across their shoulders, directed by the slave’s owner. The slave’s own Mistress, her pistol holstered, stood with folded arms, silent, observing the work of her Domme colleagues, but making no sign. Death is a dignitary who when she comes announced is to be received with formal manifestations of respect, even by those most familiar with her. In the code of the D, silence and fixity are forms of deference when a slave is put to death.
The preparations being complete, the two Mistresses stepped aside and each drew away the plank upon which he had been standing. These movements left the condemned slave and his Mistress standing on the two ends of the same plank. If his Mistress stepped aside, the plank would tilt and the condemned slave go down between two ties. He looked a moment at the swirling water of the stream racing madly beneath his feet. A piece of dancing driftwood caught his attention and his eyes followed it down the current. How slowly it appeared to move! What a sluggish stream! He thought: "If I could free my hands, I might throw off the noose and spring into the stream. By diving I could evade the bullets and, swimming vigorously, reach the bank, take to the woods and get away home.” As these thoughts flashed into the slave's brain, his Mistress stepped aside.
As the slave fell straight downward through the bridge he lost consciousness and was as one already dead. From this state he was awakened -- ages later, it seemed to him -- by a frightful roaring in his ears, and all was cold and dark. The power of thought was restored; he knew that the rope had broken and he had fallen into the stream. He was not conscious of an effort, but a sharp pain in his wrist apprised him that he was trying to free his hands. He gave the struggle his attention, and the cord fell away; his arms parted and floated upward, the hands dimly seen on each side in the growing light. He watched them with a new interest as first one and then the other pounced upon the noose at his neck. They tore it away and thrust it fiercely aside, the undulations resembling those of a water snake.
He came to the surface facing down the stream; in a moment the visible world seemed to wheel slowly round, himself the pivotal point, and he saw the bridge, the Mistresses upon the bridge, his executioners. They were in silhouette against the blue sky. They shouted and gesticulated, pointing at him. His Mistress had drawn her pistol, and the other Mistresses their rifles. Their movements were grotesque and horrible, their forms gigantic.
The slave dived -- dived as deeply as he could. The water roared in his ears like the voice of Niagara, yet he heard the dull thunder of the volley and, rising again toward the surface, met shining bits of metal, singularly flattened, oscillating slowly downward. Some of them touched him on the face and hands, then fell away, continuing their descent. One lodged between his collar and neck; it was uncomfortably warm and he snatched it out. As he rose to the surface, gasping for breath, he saw that he had been a long time under water; he was perceptibly farther downstream -- nearer to safety. The Mistresses had almost finished reloading and fired again. The slave saw all this over his shoulder; he was now swimming vigorously with the current. His brain was as energetic as his arms and legs; he thought with the rapidity of lightning:
In a few moments he found himself upon the gravel at the foot of the left bank of the stream -- the southern bank -- and behind a projecting point which concealed him from the Mistresses. The sudden arrest of his motion, the abrasion of one of his hands on the gravel, restored him, and he wept with delight. He dug his fingers into the sand, threw it over himself in handfuls and audibly blessed it. It looked like diamonds, rubies, emeralds; he could think of nothing beautiful which it did not resemble. A whiz and a rattle of grapeshot among the branches high above his head roused him from his dream. The baffled Mistresses had fired him a random farewell. He sprang to his feet, rushed up the sloping bank, and plunged into the forest.
All that day he travelled, laying his course by the rounding sun. The forest seemed interminable; nowhere did he discover a break in it, not even a woodman's road. Doubtless, despite his suffering, he had fallen asleep while walking, for now he sees another scene -- perhaps he has merely recovered from a delirium. He stands at the gate of his own home. All is as he left it, and all bright and beautiful in the morning sunshine. He must have travelled the entire night.
As he reaches the door, a blinding white light blazes all about him with a sound like the shock of a cannon -- then all is darkness and silence!
The slave is dead, his body, with a broken neck, swings gently from side to side beneath the timbers of the Owl Creek bridge.
It was Halloween Eve and a slave stood upon a railroad bridge at Owl Creek, looking down into the swift water twenty feet below. The slave’s hands were behind his back, the wrists bound with a cord. A rope closely encircled his neck. It was attached to a stout cross-timber above his head and the slack fell to the level of his knees. Some loose boards laid upon the ties supporting the rails of the railway supplied a footing for him and his executioners -- two Mistresses, with rifles across their shoulders, directed by the slave’s owner. The slave’s own Mistress, her pistol holstered, stood with folded arms, silent, observing the work of her Domme colleagues, but making no sign. Death is a dignitary who when she comes announced is to be received with formal manifestations of respect, even by those most familiar with her. In the code of the D, silence and fixity are forms of deference when a slave is put to death.
The preparations being complete, the two Mistresses stepped aside and each drew away the plank upon which he had been standing. These movements left the condemned slave and his Mistress standing on the two ends of the same plank. If his Mistress stepped aside, the plank would tilt and the condemned slave go down between two ties. He looked a moment at the swirling water of the stream racing madly beneath his feet. A piece of dancing driftwood caught his attention and his eyes followed it down the current. How slowly it appeared to move! What a sluggish stream! He thought: "If I could free my hands, I might throw off the noose and spring into the stream. By diving I could evade the bullets and, swimming vigorously, reach the bank, take to the woods and get away home.” As these thoughts flashed into the slave's brain, his Mistress stepped aside.
As the slave fell straight downward through the bridge he lost consciousness and was as one already dead. From this state he was awakened -- ages later, it seemed to him -- by a frightful roaring in his ears, and all was cold and dark. The power of thought was restored; he knew that the rope had broken and he had fallen into the stream. He was not conscious of an effort, but a sharp pain in his wrist apprised him that he was trying to free his hands. He gave the struggle his attention, and the cord fell away; his arms parted and floated upward, the hands dimly seen on each side in the growing light. He watched them with a new interest as first one and then the other pounced upon the noose at his neck. They tore it away and thrust it fiercely aside, the undulations resembling those of a water snake.
He came to the surface facing down the stream; in a moment the visible world seemed to wheel slowly round, himself the pivotal point, and he saw the bridge, the Mistresses upon the bridge, his executioners. They were in silhouette against the blue sky. They shouted and gesticulated, pointing at him. His Mistress had drawn her pistol, and the other Mistresses their rifles. Their movements were grotesque and horrible, their forms gigantic.
The slave dived -- dived as deeply as he could. The water roared in his ears like the voice of Niagara, yet he heard the dull thunder of the volley and, rising again toward the surface, met shining bits of metal, singularly flattened, oscillating slowly downward. Some of them touched him on the face and hands, then fell away, continuing their descent. One lodged between his collar and neck; it was uncomfortably warm and he snatched it out. As he rose to the surface, gasping for breath, he saw that he had been a long time under water; he was perceptibly farther downstream -- nearer to safety. The Mistresses had almost finished reloading and fired again. The slave saw all this over his shoulder; he was now swimming vigorously with the current. His brain was as energetic as his arms and legs; he thought with the rapidity of lightning:
In a few moments he found himself upon the gravel at the foot of the left bank of the stream -- the southern bank -- and behind a projecting point which concealed him from the Mistresses. The sudden arrest of his motion, the abrasion of one of his hands on the gravel, restored him, and he wept with delight. He dug his fingers into the sand, threw it over himself in handfuls and audibly blessed it. It looked like diamonds, rubies, emeralds; he could think of nothing beautiful which it did not resemble. A whiz and a rattle of grapeshot among the branches high above his head roused him from his dream. The baffled Mistresses had fired him a random farewell. He sprang to his feet, rushed up the sloping bank, and plunged into the forest.
All that day he travelled, laying his course by the rounding sun. The forest seemed interminable; nowhere did he discover a break in it, not even a woodman's road. Doubtless, despite his suffering, he had fallen asleep while walking, for now he sees another scene -- perhaps he has merely recovered from a delirium. He stands at the gate of his own home. All is as he left it, and all bright and beautiful in the morning sunshine. He must have travelled the entire night.
As he reaches the door, a blinding white light blazes all about him with a sound like the shock of a cannon -- then all is darkness and silence!
The slave is dead, his body, with a broken neck, swings gently from side to side beneath the timbers of the Owl Creek bridge.
Halloween by Anonymous
The date is approaching... it is nearly that time of year again. Halloween - when adults can dress up in crazy outfits and act like nobody is watching. It is like SL but with candy!
Halloween is not my favourite time of year but there is something oddly freeing about being able to be someone or even something else for a night.
I've been thinking lately how fun it would be to integrate D/s with Halloween...
He rings Her doorbell and waits patiently hearing footsteps moving towards him. He swallows hard as the door opens and light shines out. A gorgeous Lady dressed as a witch stands before him. 'She is gorgeous!' he thinks to himself. A moment passes as his eyes adjust and then he says "Trick or treat" with a smile on his face, confident that his costume is concealing his identity. She responds "Trick" and quickly reaches out, grabbing his arm and yanking him into the house.
He opens his eyes wide and looks around sheepishly as the door slams shut. Her hand takes a hold of his waistband as she walks in front of him without saying a word. Her heels click on the wooden floor guiding him towards another already open door.
Carefully they descend a steep staircase into a darkened room. He blinks rapidly trying to adjust to the low light, when suddenly the 'clicking' stops.
A firm feminine voice rings out from the darkness "Don't move".
He remains totally still despite feeling something gripping his left wrist and then his right. His heart pounds in his chest as he stands there for what feels like an eternity. The lights flicker on. He looks around and sees Her standing by the wall watching him. Then his eyes start to bounce from one spot to the next locking on to various pieces of equipment dotted around the room highlighted by the directional lighting. He is in... a dungeon.
She walks over to him with a quiet confidence and a slight grin on Her face. "You can move now".
He tries taking a step forward. The chains attached to the cuffs on his wrist go taut and he falls back.
"Now now... what trick would you like to see?" She says laughing to herself as she slowly undoes his pants.
He stutters, lost for words and with one quick movement she yanks his pants and underwear down to his ankles. His cheeks flush as his quickly stiffening cock reveals his excitement at the predicament. She slaps his cock hard sending it bouncing from side to side.
"Did I say you could get hard?" She says tapping her foot impatiently.
"No" he says quietly.
She slaps it again "No what?!"
He squirms and pulls his hips back feeling the sting running up and down his shaft. "No Miss!"
"That's better" She says and starts walking around slowly inspecting him.
Having done a full circle She stands in front of him and produces a large Jawbreaker.
"Time for candy" She says forcing it into his mouth and securing it with duct tape.
She smiles widely seeing both the panic and excitement in his eyes. Taking up position behind him, she slowly gropes his ass, kneading the cheeks together and spreading them apart. Letting go and without any warning she slaps his right ass cheek hard, grinning as his ass tenses up and a red outline start to form. She quickly follows up with two more hard slaps in the same place, laughing hearing his pained sounds and watching him squirm in the restraints.
She drags her nails over the red hand print, watching as the white lines quickly turn red again. Just as she draws her hand back, a loud "ding dong" echoes throughout the house.
"Don't move" She says with a grin on Her face and walks away.
At the top of the stairs she says "I hope you enjoy your trick, it's time for me to go and hand out treats" and with that she turns off the lights, closes the door and walks away.
Halloween is not my favourite time of year but there is something oddly freeing about being able to be someone or even something else for a night.
I've been thinking lately how fun it would be to integrate D/s with Halloween...
He rings Her doorbell and waits patiently hearing footsteps moving towards him. He swallows hard as the door opens and light shines out. A gorgeous Lady dressed as a witch stands before him. 'She is gorgeous!' he thinks to himself. A moment passes as his eyes adjust and then he says "Trick or treat" with a smile on his face, confident that his costume is concealing his identity. She responds "Trick" and quickly reaches out, grabbing his arm and yanking him into the house.
He opens his eyes wide and looks around sheepishly as the door slams shut. Her hand takes a hold of his waistband as she walks in front of him without saying a word. Her heels click on the wooden floor guiding him towards another already open door.
Carefully they descend a steep staircase into a darkened room. He blinks rapidly trying to adjust to the low light, when suddenly the 'clicking' stops.
A firm feminine voice rings out from the darkness "Don't move".
He remains totally still despite feeling something gripping his left wrist and then his right. His heart pounds in his chest as he stands there for what feels like an eternity. The lights flicker on. He looks around and sees Her standing by the wall watching him. Then his eyes start to bounce from one spot to the next locking on to various pieces of equipment dotted around the room highlighted by the directional lighting. He is in... a dungeon.
She walks over to him with a quiet confidence and a slight grin on Her face. "You can move now".
He tries taking a step forward. The chains attached to the cuffs on his wrist go taut and he falls back.
"Now now... what trick would you like to see?" She says laughing to herself as she slowly undoes his pants.
He stutters, lost for words and with one quick movement she yanks his pants and underwear down to his ankles. His cheeks flush as his quickly stiffening cock reveals his excitement at the predicament. She slaps his cock hard sending it bouncing from side to side.
"Did I say you could get hard?" She says tapping her foot impatiently.
"No" he says quietly.
She slaps it again "No what?!"
He squirms and pulls his hips back feeling the sting running up and down his shaft. "No Miss!"
"That's better" She says and starts walking around slowly inspecting him.
Having done a full circle She stands in front of him and produces a large Jawbreaker.
"Time for candy" She says forcing it into his mouth and securing it with duct tape.
She smiles widely seeing both the panic and excitement in his eyes. Taking up position behind him, she slowly gropes his ass, kneading the cheeks together and spreading them apart. Letting go and without any warning she slaps his right ass cheek hard, grinning as his ass tenses up and a red outline start to form. She quickly follows up with two more hard slaps in the same place, laughing hearing his pained sounds and watching him squirm in the restraints.
She drags her nails over the red hand print, watching as the white lines quickly turn red again. Just as she draws her hand back, a loud "ding dong" echoes throughout the house.
"Don't move" She says with a grin on Her face and walks away.
At the top of the stairs she says "I hope you enjoy your trick, it's time for me to go and hand out treats" and with that she turns off the lights, closes the door and walks away.
Shibari Class by Cam
Mistress has always been prepared to try new things with me, and we've both always liked the look of Shibari, but never knew enough to try it. I'd suggested some years ago that if there was ever an opportunity to go to a class, I'd like to try. I love being tightly bound, and despite not being the most supple and lithesome of models, can still get into a tight spot.
So when I saw a class being advertised in south London, I mentioned it to Mistress. She agreed, being most interested to learn a new skill and so I booked a private session (we like to think of ourselves as exhibitionists, except when it counts).
It's a short bus ride from London Bridge station to the studio, a small space - we discovered it was the perfect size for Mistress' oft-dreamed-about "tiny house" - but comfortably large enough for the two of us and our instructor. If anyone wants the details, I can provide contact info. Anna, the instructor, was very knowledgeable, friendly, and had a really open attitude - calling out the more pretentious parts of the shibari community as she saw it; an attitude we both appreciated.
I stripped down to my Speedos (got to maintain some decency!) and we began. Most of the three-hour long session was quite technical; not all of it sunk it, especially with me as a lot of the time I couldn't actually see what was going on behind me. But we do now know the looped part of the rope is the "bight", that ropes should generally be long enough for the person doing the tying - the 'rigger' to be able to use easily, how to join two ropes together (I think of it as a 'pretzel'), and so on.
The most enjoyable bit, for me at least, was the feeling of the ropes constricting around me; both the ladder running down my leg, which got incredibly tight (quite delicious) and the harness, with my hands tied behind me, and the ropes running round my chest. At times, I felt quite floaty, even though the session was, as I said, quite technical and not particularly erotic. There were a few times when the instructor got...quite close. Mistress mentioned it to me when we talked after; I'd been quite worried about showing any...ahem...reaction, but I think I managed to contain myself quite well. This despite having been denied for more than five weeks at that point.
The feeling of the ropes as they snake around my body, the tension held within them, was something I enjoyed experiencing and I'd love to do more. Unfortunately, Mistress was tired when she tried to practice on me at home, so we've yet to practice properly and there's so much to remember - which makes forgetting easy! Nevertheless, Mistress will, I'm sure, improve her rigging skills over time and be able to lash me up for lots of fun in future.
So when I saw a class being advertised in south London, I mentioned it to Mistress. She agreed, being most interested to learn a new skill and so I booked a private session (we like to think of ourselves as exhibitionists, except when it counts).
It's a short bus ride from London Bridge station to the studio, a small space - we discovered it was the perfect size for Mistress' oft-dreamed-about "tiny house" - but comfortably large enough for the two of us and our instructor. If anyone wants the details, I can provide contact info. Anna, the instructor, was very knowledgeable, friendly, and had a really open attitude - calling out the more pretentious parts of the shibari community as she saw it; an attitude we both appreciated.
I stripped down to my Speedos (got to maintain some decency!) and we began. Most of the three-hour long session was quite technical; not all of it sunk it, especially with me as a lot of the time I couldn't actually see what was going on behind me. But we do now know the looped part of the rope is the "bight", that ropes should generally be long enough for the person doing the tying - the 'rigger' to be able to use easily, how to join two ropes together (I think of it as a 'pretzel'), and so on.
The most enjoyable bit, for me at least, was the feeling of the ropes constricting around me; both the ladder running down my leg, which got incredibly tight (quite delicious) and the harness, with my hands tied behind me, and the ropes running round my chest. At times, I felt quite floaty, even though the session was, as I said, quite technical and not particularly erotic. There were a few times when the instructor got...quite close. Mistress mentioned it to me when we talked after; I'd been quite worried about showing any...ahem...reaction, but I think I managed to contain myself quite well. This despite having been denied for more than five weeks at that point.
The feeling of the ropes as they snake around my body, the tension held within them, was something I enjoyed experiencing and I'd love to do more. Unfortunately, Mistress was tired when she tried to practice on me at home, so we've yet to practice properly and there's so much to remember - which makes forgetting easy! Nevertheless, Mistress will, I'm sure, improve her rigging skills over time and be able to lash me up for lots of fun in future.
Chastity by Leasha
Confessions - Chastity
This is my chastity confession. I confess that prior to experiencing chastity, my perception was that this cannot be a difficult scenario, it has to be something if experienced that would be completely manageable and non impactive, how wrong i was. It soon became clear that as the hours went by, no impact, as the days went by, a little more impact, as the weeks went by, serious impact and again, i confess that i do like a little fiddle faddle with my credentials but try to keep it down to a minimum (two or three times a day seems reasonable, surely!!!!!) but as the period of chastity extends, not being able completely overwhelms me.
I have to confess at this point, due to my Mistress's leaning towards "chastity extensions" i have recently tried to hold in my desires and feelings (trying desperately not to ask for an end date) but i cant hold them in, its impossible, my mind fills with thoughts of my Mistress, the power Miss has over me, how Miss has taken my heart and soul and how it sits in the palm of her hand, to do with as Miss desires. I become overwhelmed with these thoughts, they build and build to a point where they are in my mind almost on a constant basis.
This may appear to be to much for some but let me add an ingredient to this scenario that should bring clarity, my Mistress ramps up the "chastity effect" with little activities that i confess, have never crossed my mind to do prior to the life changing day when i was told "don't speak to me...wear this banana and never take it off". I am told to put on stockings, panties and bras under my clothes, i am told to purchase said lingerie and ask "if it would suit me" whist recording for evidence on my phone, i am told to take pictures and "pose, well!!" and now im a bloody porn star!!!!!!!.
This is where i have to confess that having never even thought about doing such things in the past, now (especially within chastity) putting on such things in the morning before work fills me with sensual thoughts, but please note, not due to the actual attire but due to the fact that i must do so for my Mistress, i have no choice, this (more so in chastity) makes me tingle but as these instructions continue to rain down on me, i ache, i squirm, i struggle, i tingle, i desire, i sigh, i despair, i crave, i feel every emotion possible but most of all, i feel myself sitting in the palm of my Mistress's hand, unable to do anything but the desires that come to her mind, i am forever hers, deeply and truly, my heart my soul my everything are hers, this is not what chastity creates but is what chastity accentuates, this is my confession and i await the consequences that will inevitably come from such a multitude of confessions.
This is my chastity confession. I confess that prior to experiencing chastity, my perception was that this cannot be a difficult scenario, it has to be something if experienced that would be completely manageable and non impactive, how wrong i was. It soon became clear that as the hours went by, no impact, as the days went by, a little more impact, as the weeks went by, serious impact and again, i confess that i do like a little fiddle faddle with my credentials but try to keep it down to a minimum (two or three times a day seems reasonable, surely!!!!!) but as the period of chastity extends, not being able completely overwhelms me.
I have to confess at this point, due to my Mistress's leaning towards "chastity extensions" i have recently tried to hold in my desires and feelings (trying desperately not to ask for an end date) but i cant hold them in, its impossible, my mind fills with thoughts of my Mistress, the power Miss has over me, how Miss has taken my heart and soul and how it sits in the palm of her hand, to do with as Miss desires. I become overwhelmed with these thoughts, they build and build to a point where they are in my mind almost on a constant basis.
This may appear to be to much for some but let me add an ingredient to this scenario that should bring clarity, my Mistress ramps up the "chastity effect" with little activities that i confess, have never crossed my mind to do prior to the life changing day when i was told "don't speak to me...wear this banana and never take it off". I am told to put on stockings, panties and bras under my clothes, i am told to purchase said lingerie and ask "if it would suit me" whist recording for evidence on my phone, i am told to take pictures and "pose, well!!" and now im a bloody porn star!!!!!!!.
This is where i have to confess that having never even thought about doing such things in the past, now (especially within chastity) putting on such things in the morning before work fills me with sensual thoughts, but please note, not due to the actual attire but due to the fact that i must do so for my Mistress, i have no choice, this (more so in chastity) makes me tingle but as these instructions continue to rain down on me, i ache, i squirm, i struggle, i tingle, i desire, i sigh, i despair, i crave, i feel every emotion possible but most of all, i feel myself sitting in the palm of my Mistress's hand, unable to do anything but the desires that come to her mind, i am forever hers, deeply and truly, my heart my soul my everything are hers, this is not what chastity creates but is what chastity accentuates, this is my confession and i await the consequences that will inevitably come from such a multitude of confessions.
Rorke's Confession
This is an educational tale full of historical and scientific accuracy of how Femdom came into existence.
You see, there was once a time before the Dominion, a time even before Femdom itself, where the neanderthal caveman ruled supreme. Unchallenged as a Apex predator and perfectly adapted to survive, these first men truly were kings of the ancient world. This is where we meet the first submissive male, the male from which all subs are evolved from: Rorkus.
Rorkus was your everyday caveman, strong but quite simple, content to live in his own world of hunting dinosaurs, hitting things with a big club and showing the cave-women what was in his loin cloth. Despite this predisposition to the cave-life, Rorkus always felt something was missing.
One day, after fleeing from a vicious flock of pterodactyls, Rorkus found himself in a far and unfamiliar land. With darkness closing, our hero sought shelter in a nearby cave, little did he know this simple act would change the course of history!
As his eyes adjusted he became aware of another in the cave and he froze. But he did not freeze with fear...for sat on a rock, with legs crossed regally and the mammoth fur dress hugging Her every curve perfectly, was the most mesmerizing woman he had ever laid eyes on. We later learn she is Dommeena, Queen of Femdomia.
Language was not on of the cavemen's strengths and the simple grunting and groaning noises that usually suffice were clearly not impressing this heavenly Lady. "uuummm...urrgghh...mmmmppph", he said to her with no affect other than a disinterested look.
Crestfallen, our favourite neanderthal turns to leave, his club dragging across the floor but a sudden snap of fingers stops him in his tracks. To his sheer joy (and hands-free lifting of the loin cloth) she had moved from her rock to stand before him. A smile flickering on her lips as she guided him down to his knees.
Suddenly, a light bulb went off above his head (that is how the light bulb was invented but it is a story for another time), this is what was missing, this felt right!
Another push laid him flat onto his back and his breath quickened as she lowered onto his face, quite literally being queened by a Queen. Something that has not changed since the cavemen days is the basic male need to cum...so quite naturally Rorkus grabs his caveman cock and starts stroking as queen Domeena rides his face. Obviously it does not take him long and his caveman grunts and groans echo around the cave.
However, Domeena is clearly less than impressed with this performace and just as he is cumming...she pulls his hand away resulting in the first ever pathetic, twitchy, dribbly ruined orgasm! The rest of poor (or lucky!) Rorkus' evening was spent having his balls slapped mercilessly as Queen Domeena took her pleasure from him.
Now, that was just a short tale of the first meeting between Domeena and Rorkus. As most of us know evolution takes centuries, sometimes millennia to fully take hold which is why all the many kinks and fetishes we enjoy today began with what happened in that cave.
Keywords as per Lady Persephone's Trial Instruction: A Queen Queening, Caveman grunting, pathetic orgasm. Word count: 549
You see, there was once a time before the Dominion, a time even before Femdom itself, where the neanderthal caveman ruled supreme. Unchallenged as a Apex predator and perfectly adapted to survive, these first men truly were kings of the ancient world. This is where we meet the first submissive male, the male from which all subs are evolved from: Rorkus.
Rorkus was your everyday caveman, strong but quite simple, content to live in his own world of hunting dinosaurs, hitting things with a big club and showing the cave-women what was in his loin cloth. Despite this predisposition to the cave-life, Rorkus always felt something was missing.
One day, after fleeing from a vicious flock of pterodactyls, Rorkus found himself in a far and unfamiliar land. With darkness closing, our hero sought shelter in a nearby cave, little did he know this simple act would change the course of history!
As his eyes adjusted he became aware of another in the cave and he froze. But he did not freeze with fear...for sat on a rock, with legs crossed regally and the mammoth fur dress hugging Her every curve perfectly, was the most mesmerizing woman he had ever laid eyes on. We later learn she is Dommeena, Queen of Femdomia.
Language was not on of the cavemen's strengths and the simple grunting and groaning noises that usually suffice were clearly not impressing this heavenly Lady. "uuummm...urrgghh...mmmmppph", he said to her with no affect other than a disinterested look.
Crestfallen, our favourite neanderthal turns to leave, his club dragging across the floor but a sudden snap of fingers stops him in his tracks. To his sheer joy (and hands-free lifting of the loin cloth) she had moved from her rock to stand before him. A smile flickering on her lips as she guided him down to his knees.
Suddenly, a light bulb went off above his head (that is how the light bulb was invented but it is a story for another time), this is what was missing, this felt right!
Another push laid him flat onto his back and his breath quickened as she lowered onto his face, quite literally being queened by a Queen. Something that has not changed since the cavemen days is the basic male need to cum...so quite naturally Rorkus grabs his caveman cock and starts stroking as queen Domeena rides his face. Obviously it does not take him long and his caveman grunts and groans echo around the cave.
However, Domeena is clearly less than impressed with this performace and just as he is cumming...she pulls his hand away resulting in the first ever pathetic, twitchy, dribbly ruined orgasm! The rest of poor (or lucky!) Rorkus' evening was spent having his balls slapped mercilessly as Queen Domeena took her pleasure from him.
Now, that was just a short tale of the first meeting between Domeena and Rorkus. As most of us know evolution takes centuries, sometimes millennia to fully take hold which is why all the many kinks and fetishes we enjoy today began with what happened in that cave.
Keywords as per Lady Persephone's Trial Instruction: A Queen Queening, Caveman grunting, pathetic orgasm. Word count: 549
A Fun Night For All by Lady Lobbie
My eyes are skimming the pages of my book. Suddenly there is a knock at the door looking up at the clock I wonder who the hell is that at this time of the day. I pull my robe around me and go to the door. Pulling it open there is a guy stood, covered in dirt and sweat. “Oh hello…” he stammers as I peer down upon him “Miss” he adds almost silently. “What do you want? You filthy creature.” I say tapping my foot. “I need help please my car has broken down.” I scowl at him. “Please Miss.” He whines at me. “ I roll my eyes and for a moment conceder slamming the door in his face, but decide I might be able to have a bit of fun with this one. “Do you think for one moment I’m going to let a dirty filthy pig like you in to MY home?” He looks up at me his eyes closed slightly. “I’m so sorry I know I should not ask but I saw the light on, I tried to fix my car that is...” I put my hand up to stop him speaking. “Enough, you pig may enter my home only after you are clean and dressed suitably.” I point around to the side of the house to the gate. “Go that way and wait outside the building, do not enter until I have given you permission.” He nods as he makes his way he stumbles. “Ouch.” I hear him mumble I softly chuckle oh if only he knew what I had planned.
I go to my room finding out a tight skirt and top and make my way to the door I look at for him and see him standing looking at the building just beyond my home. I see him shivering and smile, I swing open the door and he jumps and chuckle again. “Don’t worry pig this won’t hurt,” I say to him adding “me.” Under my breath, I move over the door and pull out the key unlocking it I push it open I gesture for him to enter and follow behind him I switch on the lights and at the same time I swing the door closed locking it just as fast. He blinks as the light comes on I hear him gasp before him is my play room; a large cross dominates the space. Over in the corner is well I guess you could call it a shower it’s more 2 tiled walls with a shower over it and a hose to one side. “You may shower here, take your shoes off before you cross this space, threw the door you will find a laundry room, I do hope I don’t have to instruct you on how to use a washing machine. When you are naked and your clothing are on to wash you may come back and stand in the shower.” I point to a door at the side of the room and he nods and makes his way to it. When the door closes behind him I go over to the shower area making sure the water is a suitable temperature for a pig like him. He enters the room I see his hands are trying to cover his worthless cock I snigger. “I don’t know why you are so worried about me seeing that pig it is but a little useless worm a bit like you.” I sneer at him he drops his hands and stands on the shower tiles I turn on the hose and aim is for his cock he flinches. “Miss.. the .. water.. is.. cold..” He says his teeth chattering from the cold I watch his cock bounce as I turn the hose on and off. “Oh I know, I’m hardly going to waste hot water on a pig like you now.” I hose him down “Turn around and bend over, I don’t want to miss one bit.” The cold water hits his ass and I adjust the size so a fine stream is now gushing and I use this almost like a whip on his naked ass. “Ouch, mmm Thank you.” He grunts, “Open your legs pig I want to see that useless cock of yours.” He parts his legs and as I guessed he is semi hard I tut. “You boys are all the fucking same thinking about your needs before that of a woman.” I turn the hose off and hang it up. He is still bent over trembling. “Ok pig, go dry yourself and wash the towel you use in that room you should also find something to wear.”
When he comes out the room I see the apron he has chosen is Barbie pink with frills and I can see the tip of his cock below it. “Now I think I need a bath come pig.” We make our way back to the house as we enter I see him relax and smile. “Oh you think your safe in here do you?” I grad a spatula from the side and slap his ass with it. “You little pig are never safe, now go run me a bath.” I point up the stairs. “Left first door." Call me when it’s ready” I watch his ass as he makes his way up stairs. After around 15 min he calls “Miss, your bath is perfect for you.” I make my way to him. He is outside holding the door open for me, inside he has lit the candles and the bath is full of bubbles. He bows “Miss, if this pig can help in any way please just ask.” I look at him “Well at least you can do one thing right pig. Enter and get on your knees.” I take my clothing off and slip in to the bath I see a slight budge under his apron and chuckle. I slowly cresses my breasts covering them in bubbles letting out a moan I gaze at him he gulps. I reach up on the shelf for my waterproof toy flicking it on it admits a soft buzz. I plunge it in to the water and slowly rub it over my clit grunting with pleasure my eyes never leaving him. Watching him watching me his excitement growing with every moment until I orgasm I notice a small spot on the apron. Placing the vibrator on its shelf. “Aww poor pig do you want one?” His eyes light up. “Yes, oh please Miss.” “Go in to my room and bend over the bed.” I tell him. I get dry and dressed and enter my room he is bent over facing away from me. I pick up a crop and bring it down on his naked ass with each word I slap his ass. “What (1) makes (2) a(3) worthless(4) pig(5)like(6) you(7) think(8) I (9) will(10) let(11) you(12) cum(12). Now (13) go (14) get (15) your (16) stuff (17) and (18) get (19) out (20).” I stop and he stands “Thank you Miss.” He says and leaves I fall on to the bed and in to a deep sleep
I go to my room finding out a tight skirt and top and make my way to the door I look at for him and see him standing looking at the building just beyond my home. I see him shivering and smile, I swing open the door and he jumps and chuckle again. “Don’t worry pig this won’t hurt,” I say to him adding “me.” Under my breath, I move over the door and pull out the key unlocking it I push it open I gesture for him to enter and follow behind him I switch on the lights and at the same time I swing the door closed locking it just as fast. He blinks as the light comes on I hear him gasp before him is my play room; a large cross dominates the space. Over in the corner is well I guess you could call it a shower it’s more 2 tiled walls with a shower over it and a hose to one side. “You may shower here, take your shoes off before you cross this space, threw the door you will find a laundry room, I do hope I don’t have to instruct you on how to use a washing machine. When you are naked and your clothing are on to wash you may come back and stand in the shower.” I point to a door at the side of the room and he nods and makes his way to it. When the door closes behind him I go over to the shower area making sure the water is a suitable temperature for a pig like him. He enters the room I see his hands are trying to cover his worthless cock I snigger. “I don’t know why you are so worried about me seeing that pig it is but a little useless worm a bit like you.” I sneer at him he drops his hands and stands on the shower tiles I turn on the hose and aim is for his cock he flinches. “Miss.. the .. water.. is.. cold..” He says his teeth chattering from the cold I watch his cock bounce as I turn the hose on and off. “Oh I know, I’m hardly going to waste hot water on a pig like you now.” I hose him down “Turn around and bend over, I don’t want to miss one bit.” The cold water hits his ass and I adjust the size so a fine stream is now gushing and I use this almost like a whip on his naked ass. “Ouch, mmm Thank you.” He grunts, “Open your legs pig I want to see that useless cock of yours.” He parts his legs and as I guessed he is semi hard I tut. “You boys are all the fucking same thinking about your needs before that of a woman.” I turn the hose off and hang it up. He is still bent over trembling. “Ok pig, go dry yourself and wash the towel you use in that room you should also find something to wear.”
When he comes out the room I see the apron he has chosen is Barbie pink with frills and I can see the tip of his cock below it. “Now I think I need a bath come pig.” We make our way back to the house as we enter I see him relax and smile. “Oh you think your safe in here do you?” I grad a spatula from the side and slap his ass with it. “You little pig are never safe, now go run me a bath.” I point up the stairs. “Left first door." Call me when it’s ready” I watch his ass as he makes his way up stairs. After around 15 min he calls “Miss, your bath is perfect for you.” I make my way to him. He is outside holding the door open for me, inside he has lit the candles and the bath is full of bubbles. He bows “Miss, if this pig can help in any way please just ask.” I look at him “Well at least you can do one thing right pig. Enter and get on your knees.” I take my clothing off and slip in to the bath I see a slight budge under his apron and chuckle. I slowly cresses my breasts covering them in bubbles letting out a moan I gaze at him he gulps. I reach up on the shelf for my waterproof toy flicking it on it admits a soft buzz. I plunge it in to the water and slowly rub it over my clit grunting with pleasure my eyes never leaving him. Watching him watching me his excitement growing with every moment until I orgasm I notice a small spot on the apron. Placing the vibrator on its shelf. “Aww poor pig do you want one?” His eyes light up. “Yes, oh please Miss.” “Go in to my room and bend over the bed.” I tell him. I get dry and dressed and enter my room he is bent over facing away from me. I pick up a crop and bring it down on his naked ass with each word I slap his ass. “What (1) makes (2) a(3) worthless(4) pig(5)like(6) you(7) think(8) I (9) will(10) let(11) you(12) cum(12). Now (13) go (14) get (15) your (16) stuff (17) and (18) get (19) out (20).” I stop and he stands “Thank you Miss.” He says and leaves I fall on to the bed and in to a deep sleep
Inside A Mistress' Mind by Lady Saramoa
Reason was given a task to do !
Reason was given a chance to fix his mistakes!
Reason had an opportunity !
So he had 9 confessions to write within Friday and he failed!
To be fair I can understand writing is an art! and not everyone can do or feel comfortable doing it! But he had a task and he failed!
So he will be given 9 different punishments about the things he loves the most!
And for this event I delivered a confession myself
As always... we have to cover their asses!
Saramoa
She got walked in the bathroom, got undressed and finding a way to de-stress after a long day at work, changing the lighting with a couple of scented candles, and adding some soothing sounds… soaking in a nice hot bath for at least 20 minutes…
Noisy thoughts run into her mind… phone doesnt stop ringing and she recognize some of the personalized ringtone of her submissives coming in… they need directions, they need to know what to do, they need her!
She is angry at one of them… and she needs to find out the right punishment for him… “so what is important to him”? – she thinks out loud.
OBEDIENCE is expected. It is something that is non-negotiable!
Leaning on the towel bar she clothe herself with a all white thick robe, she tie the sashes together walking out her room.
Having a look at the phone, reads all the messages :
- “when are we online today, Mistress” – she smiles –
- “That was embarassing, Miss, I can’t stop thinking about it tho” – she laughs out loud –
She applies scents to "hot spots," areas that are the warmest, like the small of the back, the stomach, the back of the neck, and the ankles.
Preparing a small dinner for her to eat curled up on the couch, while TV keep talking about horrific brutality of the real life, but her mind is somewhere else: “If someone wants to see what is important to a submissive, determine what they are wiling to let go of” – someones’ said -
Annoyed by the average people around her, she can’t wait to go back to them… those who gives her pain, love, strength, purity, sensuality, eroticism, loyalty, honor, respect, integrity, trust, truthfulness and commitment.
She has needs.
She has expectations.
She is demanding.
She turns off the TV and turns on the PC…
Her boys are there : “Hello Mistress!” – “Good evening Mistress” - she grins -
THE END
Saramoa
One More Night by Anonymous
Late at night, I'm deep in my sleep, yet my body writhes. Another fantasy plagues my dreams and it tortures my soul.
I am kneeled before the door dressed in collar alone. It's 5'oclock in the evening, and I hear the car door close. She's stressed, angry, ticked at her work. Damn chauvinist pig of a supervisor has Her clawing the wood.
And there I am again, like a slave for Her. The door opens and She glares down to my poor position, and I shiver and shake. Hold my composure as she grabs my leash...
Now I cross my heart and I hope to die... Break from my dreams to find that one more night.....
I'm tied to the bed, face down, muzzled, arms tied behind my back. Legs spread wide tied at the ankle, knee bars in between. And I don't wanna pull them down as their spread up high... Anal hook will pull too tight.....Add a blindfold and I'm off tonight....
Cause there's something really amazing about being Her playtoy. She can tease and mistreat me just to Her wish, and what can I say, what can I do, I could never protest, No, I'll most certainly love this to my last dying breath...
See the pain it sears through the skin.... Just like the whip She uses to break me within.... It's not some sick fantasy just at night., Cause I wish She'd use me for her Own brutal high.
Let's those legs down, hook, out, and I feel so open... Well that won't last long as she climbs on the bed... Oh, oh, and I know what's coming on its way. The muzzle to a ball gag, to keep me quiet.
Now back and forth She swings with me.... Like a dance for two, but She's the lead. She guides me back and forth just how She please. She goes rough-hard against me like she's going to war. Sometimes I wonder if she pictures me as her premier enemy, yeah. And despite my attempts to stay quiet, I can't help but beg for it.... Guess what she says is true about me, I'm just a little slut. I'm a whore, and I'll be it ever more. But I'm all Hers, every bit of me belongs to Her grasp.
The dream then breaks, and I open my eyes. Clock reads 8 am in an empty bed. I can't explain the red marks that have broken my skin. My shoulders ache, but I hope to see that again. Still part of me feels real empty. Go to work but I'd rather be on my knees. I'll go through the day, back to bed in the same way., and pray again for One More Night.
(Lightly based off the song "One More Night" by Maroon 5)
~SSL
I am kneeled before the door dressed in collar alone. It's 5'oclock in the evening, and I hear the car door close. She's stressed, angry, ticked at her work. Damn chauvinist pig of a supervisor has Her clawing the wood.
And there I am again, like a slave for Her. The door opens and She glares down to my poor position, and I shiver and shake. Hold my composure as she grabs my leash...
Now I cross my heart and I hope to die... Break from my dreams to find that one more night.....
I'm tied to the bed, face down, muzzled, arms tied behind my back. Legs spread wide tied at the ankle, knee bars in between. And I don't wanna pull them down as their spread up high... Anal hook will pull too tight.....Add a blindfold and I'm off tonight....
Cause there's something really amazing about being Her playtoy. She can tease and mistreat me just to Her wish, and what can I say, what can I do, I could never protest, No, I'll most certainly love this to my last dying breath...
See the pain it sears through the skin.... Just like the whip She uses to break me within.... It's not some sick fantasy just at night., Cause I wish She'd use me for her Own brutal high.
Let's those legs down, hook, out, and I feel so open... Well that won't last long as she climbs on the bed... Oh, oh, and I know what's coming on its way. The muzzle to a ball gag, to keep me quiet.
Now back and forth She swings with me.... Like a dance for two, but She's the lead. She guides me back and forth just how She please. She goes rough-hard against me like she's going to war. Sometimes I wonder if she pictures me as her premier enemy, yeah. And despite my attempts to stay quiet, I can't help but beg for it.... Guess what she says is true about me, I'm just a little slut. I'm a whore, and I'll be it ever more. But I'm all Hers, every bit of me belongs to Her grasp.
The dream then breaks, and I open my eyes. Clock reads 8 am in an empty bed. I can't explain the red marks that have broken my skin. My shoulders ache, but I hope to see that again. Still part of me feels real empty. Go to work but I'd rather be on my knees. I'll go through the day, back to bed in the same way., and pray again for One More Night.
(Lightly based off the song "One More Night" by Maroon 5)
~SSL
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