Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Cam's Confession

The Shock Collar

Mistress is a professional dog trainer, and 110% against the use of shock collars for our furry friends, who don’t know or understand why they’re being zapped with 500 volts of electricity.

But she doesn’t hold that belief for her slaves who can understand and ought to know better than to disobey her entirely reasonable requests.  She’s got a zapper, which is my least favourite toy, and uses it on me regularly.  Its both to keep me in line - I pretty much always fold instantly when she brings it out - and as a simple punishment; not for having done anything wrong but more to remind me of how painful it is and that I ought to do anything to avoid it.  Added to that, she loves the way I wriggle away from it, until the penny finally drops again that if I want it to stop, I have to remain completely still while she shocks me.  The zapper always brings out Mistress’s inner sadist. Repeatedly. On my nipples.

But back to shock collars.  As I said, Mistress has no qualms about shocking boys who really ought to know better, so she bought me a present.  It consists of a handy remote control and a nylon fabric band - the sort of webbing you might find on a rucksack - attached to a black plastic box, anatomically curved, with two rounded metal prongs sticking out of it.  The strap fits around the cock and balls, with the plastic box at the rear, between the legs, ready to deliver shocks to the rear of the ball sack of the unfortunate wearer.

She made me assemble it, fit the batteries - observing correct polarity - and attach it to myself.  I knew what was coming.  Putting the toys together and getting them to work is always my job.  Being made to assemble the devices that are going to be used against you has a particular psychological effect, rather like recalcitrant 17th century sailors being made to construct their own cat o’nine tails.  After a few false starts, she delivered that first jolting shock to my balls. I squeaked and leapt into the air.  Mistress was clearly amused.  After that the shocks came thick and fast, until I was doubled over, begging her to stop.

“That’s not how you ask, is it?” she chastised me, and zapped me again.

“Nuuugh….no Mistress. I’m sorry. How many more shocks would you like me to take?” I replied, ready to agree to any amount she might name.

“Just one more. I can see you’re hard, so after that you can fuck me. But every time you get to the edge and stop, you’re going to get another shock.”

I steeled myself. “Yes Mistress,” I grunted, and kept myself as still as possible for the final zap.

She pulled back the sheets, lay back and allowed me on top, making that face I love as she guided me into her pussy.  I was rock hard and dripping wet.

“Fuck me hard,” she commanded, knowing full well that it wouldn’t take much for me to reach the edge and have to stop thrusting. I rammed as hard as I could, repeatedly filling her cunt with cock.

I looked at her, my eyes begging as she shook her head, lifting her hand up to fill my vision; making me watch as she pressed the button.  We both gasped as the shock forced me into her completely.

I recovered, thanking her, and resumed servicing her. Providing her with the cock she craves, the cock she deserves.  Not long and another pause, another shock.

But something strange had started to happen.  The shocks weren’t dampening my lust.  Sure, they were keeping me off the edge, but I found I was able to fuck long and hard.  I asked her for more. While still thrusting.

“Please shock me again, Mistress,” I asked as we rutted. She looked surprised, but delighted to oblige.  I kept thrusting through the pain.


“Yes please, Mistress.”

“Beg me for it.”

“Please shock me again, Mistress. I beg you. Please hurt me.”

A look of delight came over her face and she pressed the button, holding it down, shocking me for several seconds while I continued to grind into her cunt.  The feeling was so intense; the pleasure of being wrapped in her pussy, tight and wet around me, while my balls were being zapped. Pleasure and pain together.

She stopped, and I continued to thrust. “Pleeeease, Mistress!”

“Do you think you can cum?”

“So close, Mistress….yes.”

She pressed the button down with glee. My mouth opened in shock, but my eyes never left hers.


I thrust, the confusing sensations, pain, pleasure, the tightening of my balls and the twitching of my penis as I delivered her seed to her. As my pumping subsided and I slipped back out of her cunt, she let go of the button, grinning.

She’d found a new delight for us both - making me beg for more shock collar.

Restaurant Dominant

We’re not all about sex and S&M, you know. Really, we’re not.  Sometimes we go out.  We went downtown to see the Mousetrap - the world’s longest-running play.  I can thoroughly recommend it - it is a great plot that will keep you guessing and - despite a little bit of ham-dram - the production quality was quite good.  Despite it being set in the 1950s, there are some good strong female characters.  Neither of us are at liberty to divulge the ending though; we have both sworn a solemn promise to never tell.  So don’t ask.

No, we’re not all about D/s, but even in those everyday, vanilla situations, her dominance shines through.  Prior to the show, we went for lunch in a restaurant near the theatre.  Mistress sat with her back to the wall, me facing her, so my attention was solely on her and not the rest of the room.  I noticed that right away.  Her taking control of the situation.  We got drinks and chose what we wanted from the menu.  The waitress came up to take our order, and Mistress reeled off both our orders.

Now you might say this was convenience; she knew and ordered first, chaining both meals together to make the process swifter and more accurate.  I didn’t think so, though.  It made me aroused.

Mistress seemed surprised when I mentioned this.  That unconsciously, she took control, in a very public place, the power dynamic between us both very clear - at least to me, and with everyone else being completely unaware of what was going on.  Even she was unaware of what she was doing; the control she had over me.

That, dear listeners, is real domination. So subtle, no-one notices. So firm, no sub can resist. I cannot help but follow that lead. I love Her, a true Domme.

The Pleasure of Service
Breakfast - A New Tradition

We’d discussed me making breakfast for Mistress several times but never actually done it.  But this year, we finally got things together and I started making breakfast for Mistress.  The first couple of days, it was quite simple - crumpets with butter and jam.

Then we had a discussion about bacon sandwiches - the proper sort, on cheap white bread, with the bacon cooked until it’s started to crisp but isn’t yet quite a piece of toast, then slathered with ketchup or - for those who love their spice - brown sauce. The Brits among you will know what that is.

Mistress is a foodie, however, so this was not going to be acceptable.  We agreed on sourdough bread, dry-cured bacon, and fresh tomato.  So the following day I went into the local store and got some bacon, and picked up mushrooms as an afterthought - we both just loooove mushrooms.  Mushrooms fried in bacon fat are even better!

Mistress allowed me to wear a tee shirt and shorts to avoid hot fat burns, and I cooked up the bacon and mushrooms - forgetting to season them.  For the next few days, I added some salt and herbs to the mushrooms to make them Michelin-class.  At least I think so.  Serving her this way felt good - another new way of pleasing her.

After breakfast, Mistress would lie on the couch and I’d take off her socks and massage her feet with some lotion - another little act of service

We both found it made the mornings more relaxed, easing us back into our roles, and as an act of service, I grew into it too.  I’ve never been much of a service sub, but I gained a new appreciation for the simple pleasures of service.  I’m still not a service sub - I’m sure Mistress would agree. I think she likes it that I’m her sex slave and can do service as well - and she has other sources of service-based submission, so I know she’s not going without.

Yet again though, I’ve learned another way to please my Mistress and grow into my position at her feet.

Making Tea

Mistress shares her favourite porn with me.  It's the only porn I’m allowed.  One of her favourite themes is dominant women leading men off to their bedchambers, holding onto their genitals and leading them gently and firmly to their place serving her in whatever way she chooses.

It is one of those things that I’d always thought of as being fantasy - I didn’t imagine it would happen; usually we’re already in bed together and Mistress strokes me to erection then pulls me on top of her.

This time, though, I was in the kitchen, making tea.  I’d just put a tea bag in one mug, and was about to drop a bag in the second mug when Mistress approached me from behind, reached round and grabbed my penis, pulling me round, leading me out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom.

Surprised, delighted, and also thinking “Shit! What do I do with this teabag!?” I dropped it onto a stack of magazines left on the landing.  She dragged me to her room and threw me onto the bed, taking complete ownership, my cock hardening more rapidly than an overmixed 2-part epoxy.

Before I could do anything, she was on top of me, mounting me, riding her cock, her hand between her legs, rubbing her clit.

I relaxed, pushed my hips up into hers, and from my prone position served her as best I could, thinking how lucky and privileged I was to have a Mistress, a lover, who wanted and lusted for me so much.

After she finished, I was sent back downstairs to finish making the tea.  I’d completely forgotten about it, about the tea bag left on the stairs.  Seeing it reminded me again of the control she took over me, completely in command.  I finished making the tea with a broad grin on my face.

Sex and Drugs
More accurately, this should be titled sex on drugs.  Viagra, to be precise.  Mistress had some experience of her lovers using viagra and, despite me not at all needing it, she wanted to experience it with me.

In the UK, it has recently become possible to buy viagra without prescription - so that avoids an embarrassing conversation with the doctor.  In my head I’d imagine it would go something like this:

“Doctor, I need some Viagra”

“Why do you think you need it?”

“Because I’m fucking an insatiable sex goddess and while she’s so sexy she keeps me hard without any real effort, she’s always disappointed when I enter the refactory period and wants to use me like a sex toy.”

“That’s totally unethical. I can’t prescribe it for you.”

“But you’re totally jealous, right?”

“Absolutely. You lucky bastard. Now get out of my surgery.  I’ve got genuinely sick people to treat.  And go see a psychiatrist, you perv!”

So yeah...never been a fan of that idea, and was just as reluctant to actually go into a pharmacy and speak to a pharmacist about it. The conversation would’ve probably gone the same way, at least in my paranoid head.  And there would’ve been other customers in the shop, just to make it worse.

Of course, the Internet comes to my rescue and online service start to open up.  Great - lie about a few things on an online form and get the pills posted to you in a discreet package!  No need for any embarrassment.

As a result, I’m lying there, a Viagra pill in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.  Mistress is leaning over me, keenly awaiting the results of her latest experiment.  There’s a look of almost child-like glee on her face. “Take it,” she urges me.

I’m reluctant.  What if it causes my heart to explode or my head to turn green.  I swallow my irrational fears.  It’s been tested. The authorities deem it safe enough. I pop the pill in my mouth and swallow it.

The sex that follows immediately is good - as always when Mistress and I make love.  But damn...I don’t get soft afterwards.  Holy cow! We fuck again.  And I get to cum again.  It’s like being twenty all over again and I’m still hard!!!

It was definitely the most amazing morning.  I confess I didn’t keep count of how many times we made love, fucked, screwed, rutted that morning.  It was sex for its own sake. Sex because. Animal. I got to the point where I just could not cum any more - and we continued to fuck!

Viagra is an amazing drug.  Mistress is an amazing woman.  The fact that she can take that much sex and still come back for more just blows my mind.

Traveler by Anonymous

Traveler, wandering the world. All I want, is for you to want me. It was never so hard as it is now, to be without. I want to serve you and give you everything I can but ...Traveler, wandering the world.

I see you here and there and I ache for you to see me, to talk to me, to call me over and ignore me....I'm right here Miss...Traveler, wandering the world.

Your spot in my heart is always empty Miss but you make my heart full. I would belong to you if you took me, but i cant let you, I would lose you...Traveler, Wandering the world.

I'll always be there, but hardly ever here....Your Traveler Miss, wandering the world.

Good Things by Lady Lobbie

They say good thing come to those who wait
well better things come to those who beg
no boy that not up for debate
now on your knees
or in a crate

I do not mind take your time
but for ever minute passed
Ill take you ass and make it mine
I want to hear you
whimper and whine

Come now boy you know its true
don't think for one moment
that I wont take a paddle to you
beat that ass
until it is black and blue

In my collar you belong
on my leash you should be
tell me boy am I wrong?
Come now knell for me.
Together we are strong

Invitation that can't be declined
to become completely mine.

By Lobbie Sommersett  (Riggles)

(1 line by Dec)

Confession by Rhys

I want to thank Lady Peregrine for allowing me to serve at Her pleasure.  In the last month and a week, I have enjoyed and looked forward to each and every conversation.  When I wake in the morning, I do not feel as if my day has begun until I send that good morning message on Skype. 

My thoughts are on Her, even when I am not able to be online.  I find myself wondering how She would react to a situation, or whether a sight would be pleasing to Her.  She has honored me with a place by Her side, and I crave and yearn for the day when I feel a collar locked around my neck, hearing that click, that says in no uncertain terms that I am Hers, and Hers alone.

The shame that fills me when I know that I have disappointed Her, is probably far worse than any scolding or punishment that would be doled out.  I look forward to the day when I know Her completely enough that I can make it through a day, a week, a month, without making some small mistake to earn Her ire.

When She is pleased, the joy that courses through me has me smiling and laughing out loud.  My heart soars when I hear, “good boy,” and all I want to do is be at Her feet forever.  I was privileged to be allowed to perform for Her pleasure yesterday.  It was an experience that allowed me to sink fully into my submission to Her, and it left me with a deep feeling of peace.

Laying side by side with Cam,  listening to Her every direction and order to explore, lick and caress the other’s cock, I wanted nothing more than to both please Her, and to taste him for Her.  Knowing She was “watching” and in full control sent shivers through me.

The moment where I felt the most at peace, the most complete however, was the moment when I was on my hands and knees, with Lady Peregrine sitting upon my back so that She could reach Cam’s lips as he knelt behind me, ready to  fuck my ass.  He kept asking if I was ready, and She told him that it was no longer my concern, and for him to take me.  He did.

I could literally close my eyes and envision Her pleasure with us occurring in real life.  I could envision, once Cam was finished and She slid that cold plug into my ass, having to get up and  get dressed before heading out to go on with our day as if nothing had happened.  That I would know with each movement, that I had his seed deep in my cunt, with that plug keeping it there until She chose to remove it.

I love that Cam enjoyed himself and that we are getting along so well.  I had fears and anxieties that he wouldn’t like me, so being able to relax around him is a wonderful treat.  I love having a place by Her side, kneeling beside Cam, and for the two of us to be able to work together to bring Her pleasure and joy.  I hope with my entire being that I will be lucky enough to earn Her collar.

Anonymous Confession

Someone asked me recently what changed with me. Why didn't I have any desire to be owned any more? And for the longest time the answer was "I don't know."

Cynicism could lead one to think, "Oh, he's just looking to get his kinks fulfilled without putting in the effort to be a good submissive." And there's undoubtedly some truth to that at times. I have had kinks fulfilled outside of a femdom; there's no humble way to say "I can get that taken care of, if that's all that I'm looking for," so I won't make any pretense to the contrary.

But if that was all of it, why would I still feel the need to submit, still feel the aching need to please? Why am I simply calmer and more at peace in a Female Dominated atmosphere? I don't really *do* anything any more, don't pursue anyone, and I'm more than a little standoffish. I just enjoy the company and the conversations, and give input when it's desired, hoping to please.

Then the other day, a Domme friend IMed me. She asked "What the hell is the matter with you? You come in to the circle, and you just sit there now. You don't really talk to anyone."

"I feel peaceful here," I answered. "I still enjoy pleasing. That's still at my core. I still belong here, but I don't want to belong to anyone."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't trust anyone enough to give myself to them completely any more" I answered. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that again."

And there it was. What surprised me more than how obvious the answer had been...was her reply to me.

"You're not the only one," she said.

Gather The Stars by Lady Karrie

Gather the Stars

She promised she would reach into the night sky and without fear or trepidation gather the stars for their amusement.

He said He would tremble in anticipation of her bequests. That every syllable would be listened to. Revered. Obeyed.

She recalls how with stockinged feet she would gently massage his glistening hard cock until his need weeped for release

He once spoke to her of his furtive desires almost hypnotised by her gentle joy at the more depraved of his appetite

She reached for him once and he was there waiting.

In the darkness He lowered his head  in pain. She was there softly brushing a tear away.

Whips. Floggers. Pinwheels. Knives. Ropes and Leashes were fundamental to their relationship dancing alongside candyfloss, summer cokctails. fairgound rides. french cinema and good conversation.

The fucking rod propelled deeper into his anus as he tugged on the tethers that bound him to the prison stockade. Fuck that he thought and immediately remained still, His anus still raw from his usual morning fucking from Mistress.

She thought of him downstairs in  the dungeon and how he would be trying hard not to fidget. He truly hated that fucking rod!. She Laughed and thought how funny it would be if she tiiptoed in quietly and pushed it right up deep in him....How he would squeal!! Just like that little piggy fat boy in Delieverance....squeal little piggy...she laughed once more then returned her attention to the laptop. All thoughts of fucking rods and dungeons gone. Him included.

He hated this bloody blindfold as well!  it didnt add suspense! Why did all Dominant women think so? FFS men are visual animals they want to see your tits and cunt not imagine them behind the thick itchy blackness!. Goddamn he was getting irritated he wanted to see around their new dungeon. They had just finished it last week. Well he had. Mistress as usual dictated and pointed at things, while he , well he did all the menial heavy lifting work. As it should be yeah yeah but he smiled remembering the fun they had later drinking champagne. They had sprawled on velvet over sized cushions side by side, holding hands looking up together  into the starry night.

 I promised you the stars she said. He kissed her in response.

She looked once more. She loved him. She truly did. He adored her as he said he would.

He wondered if she would be coming down this evening. All he had ever wanted she gave him.

She logged in. New name. New Avator. Oh the thrill of it all. Let the games begin.

He yawned. As he had done for a few months now. 

Mark's Confession

They were somewhere deep in the depths of the city. The room was small, and despite all apparent common sense, the room apparently had no doors or windows …. no point of entry or egress. The walls were intermittently illuminated by a flickering blue that seemed somehow to reflect the electrical interference of badly tuned television screens.

His shoulders ached from the tension as the tight cuffs around his wrists pulled his arms back as he knelt before her. She stood over him. He sensed how close he was to the hem of her tight miniskirt, the double softness of her stocking tops, the ‘V’ at the top of her thighs, the heat of her body. Part of him yielded, and he knew he wanted to give worship, to let his lips meet hers through the filmy nylon of her panties, to allow his tongue to give her pleasure. But he refused to meet her eyes, until the sharp pain of the cattle prod on his ribs bade him look upwards to meet her gaze. She held out her hand. In her palm there were two pills. ‘You may take the red pill, or the blue pill’, she said.

He looked away, determined to be master of his own fate and captain of his soul. But the cattle prod found its mark again, and he gasped helplessly: ‘The red pill’, he whispered. She smiled down at him as she fed him the pill, then guided him between her thighs, where his lips met hers. He felt her fingers tighten in his hair as she urgently pulled his face toward her, slowly gyrating her hips. He felt himself swimming in erotic currents, his lips gliding over her stocking clad legs until they found the raised clips of her garters tugging at her stocking tops, the garter belts themselves leading upward to the warm softness of her silky inner secrets.

As he pressed his lips to her, she looked down upon him. ‘I have never known a sub who does not silently long for this’, she said, as she  rubbed herself over his mouth. ‘But I will let you into a secret. I am not here to give you what you desire, silent or not.’ As she said this, she grabbed him by the hair and threw him across the room. ‘You are here for me, not the other way around’.  She strode forward, and the sharp bite of the cattle prod hit again and again. He cowered into the corner and begged for forgiveness. ‘You mean, you do NOT want to offer me pleasure?’ she demanded. Before he could answer, the cattle prod bit deep again. He begged again to assure he wanted to offer pleasure. ‘So you are saying you want to do what I have already denied you’, she shouted. The cattle prod’s electric charge bit even more deeply. He felt himself losing grip on consciousness. But just at that moment, he spied the blue pill that she had discarded, lying in a corner of the room. As she leaned forward to shock him again, he twisted free and leaped across the room to obtain the pill. His hands were bound, but he seized it between his teeth and grinned at her. She called out ‘No!’, but it was too late, and the pill was swallowed.

The lines of the room wavered for a moment then disappeared. A bright freshness met his gaze. He lay on a field, stretching as far as the eye could see. Gibbets punctuated the scene, with male submissives hanging by the neck, stretched in tortured poses. Others were spread taut over wooden frames, being fucked by Mistresses with giant strapons until they bled. Others yet were tied to whipping posts, their flesh flayed by Mistresses as each Mistress in turn wielded her whip. Across the expanse of green field, all that could be heard was the plaintive cry of the submissive and the derisive laugh of the Mistress. He looked up, and his Mistress sadly smiled down at him: ‘What a shame, we could have had so much fun, you and I, if only you had ignored the blue pill. Welcome to reality’. He cried out his mistake as the invisible shackles dragged him towards the wooden fucking frames, but he had taken the road less trodden, and all was lost.

The Grass Field by Anonymous

The Grass Field
5: She is riding her horse
7: rays of sunshine passing through the air
5: gagged and restrained, he is