So Simple by Anonymous

It all used to be so simple.

A tug on my leash would wake me up, and I'd crawl to her side of the bed. A few precious moments of cuddling before we struck out to face the day. We each knew our jobs and we did them well. The morning went by with a breeze, and before I knew it I was out the door and sitting into a room with 30 other people. None of them knew I had a welt across my ass from forgetting to put honey in her tea. Or the bruise on my chest from faultering as her footrest while she was halfway through her second episode of project runway the night before.

After a few hours in class I'd get a break, get up off the hard plastic seat. Smiling to myself at the feeling as blood slowly returned to my butt. She'd already picked out my lunch for me. No need to worry myself having to choose. I sat quietly and ate, smiling at the other people as they passed.

Before long, my day out in the big scary world was finished and I'd head back home. It's a comforting feeling coming home to a warm familiar house. A place where everything made sense and I knew what to expect. I didn't have to worry about whether my pillow was comfortable. I didn't have to make sure I woke up on time. What clothes I'd wear. What chores I would do, or what I would have for dinner. I just had to be good. 

I'd walk in the door and close it gently behind me. A quick change from what I wore that day into a collar and cuffs, and I set to work. I was usually home a while before her which gave me time to get everything in order, just the way she liked it. The bed made, mail retrieved, trash emptied, and dinner started. When I heard her car pulling up in the driveway, I took my place at the end of the entry way, with my knees and forehead touching the ground, and my wrists crossed behind me. She would take the leash down from the hook, and gently snap it to the ring in my collar. A quick but firm tug was all it took for me to follow. I'd watch her feet to know where to follow, which was usually a quick inspection of my work, then back to finish our dinner. When she let me finish cooking, her dinner was elegant and tasty. Mine was unceremoniously scraped into a dog bowl.

I remember when we first met, all it took was a stern look to guide me from the door over to the chair across from her at the table. Her fierce eyes evaporated into a sweet gentle smile, which lit up the room with an effervescent glow. Her curly black mane framed her face like a painting. I stared at the way she effortlessly moved her lips as she spoke, while I struggled to keep my composure. Her fingers gently brushed mine as I held onto my cup, sending an electric tingle down my spine. I could feel my heart beating loudly in my chest, ringing through my ears like the footsteps of a giant walking through the valleys and ridges of my brain. The giant made it impossible to sit still and not squirm against seat of the chair. I squeezed my legs together, and felt the nervous tension rise from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

We sat there until long after the coffee had gotten cold. That night was the first night I'd felt content in a long time. I wrapped myself up tight in my blankets and opened my windows to let the cold night air sink into my room.

It was few months later she suggested I move in.

She pushed my servatude further than it had been pushed before. The previously terrifying feeling of a hood slipping over my head, being laced tightly before locks solidly clicked shut in buckles of each strap. Instead of feeling claustraphobic, it felt comforting and safe. I learned to be a towel rack while she showered. I was her foot warmer when she was cold. On special occassions I was even allowed onto the furniture to snuggle or watch a movie.

It was a magical time in my life where everything made sense, so it was tough to let go when I graduated. She took a job in another city, and I was pushed out the door. I miss having someone in charge. I miss having someone I can make smile when she's had a tough day. I miss the calm feeling of my senses being taken away one by one. Until eventually there's nothing but my heartbeat.

Fellow Goddesses by Anonymous

A field leaning back against the sky
Spreads open before me
Brown and forlorn from the long heavy winter
Small brave blades of green gasp for breath
She throws off the dark, wet weight of snow
And rises up to me to say a word

"Look"....
She points across the heavy grey blanket of the horizon
To a crimson whirling dervish of a flame
It dances for her, she boasts, on the tip of a flare stack
I think of altars and oracles and virgins pushed off precipices
And know she has recognized me

She smiles triumphantly and lays back down in the muddy leaves
I too am a goddess and understand these things
A minor one, but still
I have my minion who worships me
With offerings of clean sheets and cups of coffee
And nights filled with unspeakable things

Impromptu Confessions 1/31/15

What was your last impure thought? What were the circumstances?

Constantly

'Cause, look at me.
And look around.
Surrounded by hotness.

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Last night I had impure thoughts about Nick Jonas.... Of course they included his Calvin Klein's shoved his his mouth and a bag over his head.it'

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Right about now, thinking about my impure thoughts. But then again, how can we classify thoughts as 'pure' or 'impure'? They are thoughts.... What is pure for me could be impure for you. It depends on so many aspects, including our background, upbringing, religious influence and so on. Well, maybe that in itself was an impure thought.

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My last impure thought was about 15 minutes ago: receiving a full body massage from an attractive Asian girl while my slave watched.  She even did a yoni massage!  In public!  For everyone to see!

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I can't think of anything to write (really) as i am too private for that --  even if this is anonymous.  LOL.

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My most recent impure thoughts were last night as I was picking up lube, or as we call it "jerk juice", and I was debating which blindfold to buy myself for my birthday.  My boyfriend recently said the magic words: "It's been years since I was blindfolded!"

Game on! Impure thoughts to follow!

Spontaneous Confessions 12/20/14

Besides your genitalia (or pink parts), what do you consider the most erogenous area of your body and why?  How do you like that area treated?

The soft areas of skin on my body... behind my knees, the insides of my arms, my neck, my inner thighs.  Just a soft touch on these areas make my whole body tingle.  My eyes close and I draw a sharp breath.  It's heart stopping, arousing... total pantie dropper!


Besides your genitalia (or pink parts), what do you consider the most erogenous area of your body and why? How do you like that area treated?


fingers over my tummy ,
it makes me squeel like a little piggy and giggly like a little schoolboy . something i cant stop if i wanted to .


Besides your genitalia (or pink parts), what do you consider the most erogenous area of your body and why? How do you like that area treated?


I love having my inner elbow kissed, licked, stroked with a finger or feather.  It gives me incredible chills and tingles.  It's a soothing, yet stimulating, sensation.

I also like when a man kisses up your arm, like Gomez would do to his wife Morticia when she spoke French and drove him wild with desire!

Spontaneous Confessions 12/06/14

Would you prefer wild, energetic, violent play or calm, sensual play? Describe why.

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I think it depends on the circumstances, the mood, and the partner.  There are some that, just by their cuteness or their softness, beg for my abuse.  I like the whimpers and the sharp gasps.
Then there are some, that I just want to curl around and penetrate their mind.  To leave my imprint on their psyche.  To slowly, softly, insinuate myself through their barriers -- like water shaping rock.

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Prefer? In some situations I'd like either. Or both.  Or one after the other....

Soft kisses on bloody lips. Gentile  teasing before a stinging storm...


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Why is it either/or?

It really depends on many factors: mood, energy, chemistry with the other participant.  Also, one can lead to the other.  Thank you, done.


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Wild tigers move slowly and deliberately as they stalk.
Every motion is spare.

To engage the senses, one must be intense.
To be intense, one must focus.
To focus, one must go deeply.
To go deeply, one must remain calm.
To be calm, one must still the distractions.
To avoid distractions, one must be in the moment.

Thrashing about, worrying about positions and gear and performance and images all take one out of the moment.

Providing entertainment to others is one kind of play.
A better form of play ignores others.

Spontaneous Confessions 24/11/14

Q: How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

A: I've always been prone to taking charge and leading my peers. Always. Within the context of BDSM, a submissive use to follow me around like a puppy dog. At the time, I always thought of him as a friend. One day he said to me, "You're a Domme and you don't even know it!" Thus began my curiosity and journey into what many call, The Lifestyle.

- Promises Paine


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

I realized when I was four and I wanted everything and made sure everyone knew.  I had them at my beck and call.


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

How did I realize I was submissive? Well... I guess you could say it was more of an underlying trait. I've always enjoyed pleasing people. I've always enjoyed seeing others gain pleasure from work that I have done, or favors that I have performed, or just... my presence. Entering into the D/s world was sort of an "Oh shit, there's a word for this!?" kind of deal. It lead to a whole new world of discoveries about things I can enjoy doing for another or enduring for another.


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

There was never an "ah ha!" moment.  Over the last few years I just started to explore D/s and just naturally found my way.  Like a leaf floating down a stream.


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

The idea that I was submissive came gradually as I realized my sex life was subject to the whims, desires, wants and needs of women. Honestly, I've been attracted to strong women most of my life (though not sexually) because all the women in my life (mother, aunts, etc) were strong Italian and Irish-American women who didn't put up with any BS from men.  The sexualization part started with my first college girlfriend (Sharon) who was heavily into tease and denial.  Any sex I got over my youth was at the whim of my partners; it was 'out of my control'.  As I began to visit topless clubs in my 30's, it was obvious that the ladies decided who they'd spend time with -- not me.  --- Anyway, as the twig is bent so grows the tree.  And nothing has changed over the years.  Man proposes; woman disposes.


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

It is perhaps one of the questions that I find difficult to answer. I did consider myself to be Dominant for a major part of my life. During later years, I realized that I wasn't so much of a Dominant and that what I perceived to be my Dominance was in fact a result of social conditioning. This made me look for experiences in the other side and it started bit by bit. That is all I can say.

Impromptu Confessions 11/15/14

There was this one time at the Dominion I will never forget.......


I wasn't looking to connect with anyone here.  A friend asked me to come to the courtyard to meet someone, and we ended up hitting it off.  It's turned into the beginning of a wonderful, and hopefully long lasting adventure.



I recall the time when Garth won the "run the D for a day" auction lot, it was a bit ago but I recall tping in and laughing so much during that time. He had the place in such a mess, I was shocked Eva didn't have a panic attack. It was a fun day for those with the sense of humor to enjoy it!



I entered the D/s scene as a submissive when I was only just turned 17, having graduated high school early and gone on to college. I was from a small rural baptist community and when I discovered kink, I was instantly enamored, but I'd never seen a "Dominant Woman" before because of my background and so I did not really understand or know that they existed.

After many misadventures in SL, I was "cornered" by several female submissive at a Sim and given a landmark to the Dominion. They told me, "You're not a sub, go there instead." I came to the Dominion on an alt just to see it... terrified and nervous. I suppose mostly of what I might discover about myself.

I will never forget that first visit- how right it felt- how it was just and instant 'fit'. I have never looked back...



Last winter I walked far out onto the ice  -- hundred of meters from The Courtyard -- and, in the dark,  watched fireworks in the black sky -- as I IM'd with my former mistress and best friend forever in both RL and SL.  The music was soft.  It took me back to my childhood in many, many ways.  It felt very very real !  I can see the whole vision in my mind's eye as I write these words.

A long time submissive friend IM'd me while we were all sitting around the Courtyard.  He IM'd me to tell me I looked beautiful and begged to be allowed to worship me by being beneath the beautiful shoes I was wearing.
I made him work for it, yes I did.

                                                                       ... I'll never forget it.

Impromptu Confessions 18/10/14

Life foists changes on you without reason or warning, and I am no exception to the rule. I find myself in a transitory period with several options before me. I know some of them will be painful but perhaps the more painful road is the better way in the long run. I could stay the path I am on which will have a change in circumstances all it's own, follow a path with painful changes that are major and have no real known direction beyond the first change or follow a new uncharted course that has tickled my curiosity. There is no rush to make a choice but I know that choose I must and so change is most likely in the offing. I only know for sure that change will happen and is happening as we speak. Time goes on and change is inevitable.



I get really immersed in whatever I'm doing and my work has been central to my life for a long time. I love my job, passionate about it but in the last year or so I've begun to feel jaded. Not wanting a traditional promotion and unsure which path to travel next I was open to explore new horizons. This summer opened my eyes to new opportunities and I know I am ready to seize them.


 It would be easier to describe anything static!  Really.  My body is more stable than my mind, which travels over centuries and ranges all over planet earth and beyond.  It's hard to keep my consciousness in any channels. Dommes past and present have come and gone -- and returned -- in just the last two months.  I'm yanked about. Structure? I write for this event every week.  I go to the gym at least three days a week.  I eat every day.  I sleep every night.   Everything else is flux.  I have no idea if the chaos is positive or negative.  I just hold on, wondering what's around the corner.


The biggest change that I've had recently... would have to be my own personal growth.  I have grown into my Dominance, grown into my confidence.  This has freed me to take the focus of myself... that insecure "what can I do to make them like me?" desire to focus on the people around me... Those who are close to me... It has helped me find balance and happiness.



Stopped caring for some people. They have been making life a bit difficult. Now I don't give a damn about them. That's the transition.

Impromptu Confessions 11/10/14

Question: What Is Your 3 Way Fantasy?

I would love to ravage this boy...

My best friend and I would break him down, tear him to pieces and then put him back together the way *we* want him to be.

Mm.  Yes.


My three way fantasy is to be the fluffer for my Mistress and Her alpha slave.


My 3-way fantasy involves three other people... not myself.  I am the director of the scene.  I watch, until I get bored with them, then I go back to playing Angry Birds.


My 3-way fantasy is to be taken by my Mistress with her strap-on, as i orally pleasure whomever she wishes, female, male.  Then they switch. I orally pleasure my Mistress as i am taken anally again, everyone climaxing.  Finally, both of them bring me to climax with their mouths and hands while i am still bound.


My three-way fantasy has actually been turned into a Confessions story. This was because it started with me writing a fantasy for my Mistress. I started with me being naked in a dark room, waiting for Her. When She arrived, She blindfolded me and that's where the fantasy took flight on it's own wings. The words tumbled from my head onto the page. A third person, a female, was there in the room in my fantasy. She played with my Mistress before I was approached by this someone i identified as not being Her. I was sat on, breath- controlled and then peed on by this unknown and unseen female.  After this person left the room My Mistress spoke to me. She then revealed that She had worn different perfume than normal and that it was Her that had played with me -- not some unknown anonymous woman.

I read my fantasy to Her after writing it.  I was shaking with nervous tension, almost crying, because this had come from somewhere i had not seen.

by Elric

No, it has not come true.  It involves Me, a male sub, and another FemDom. 

The dirty little sub is bound spread-eagle, blindfolded. He has a cock gag inserted into his mouth, and he is lying with headphones on, tuned into his favorite music. The two of us lay a table cloth over him, set him as a table, and eat off of proper place settings of beautiful china, the plates warm against his body. Once finished, we first remove the set table and the table cloth, then remove his headphones so he can hear us -- touching, eating, fucking each other, our moans his only input.  Eventually, we simply ride the cock table, She on his cock, me on the gag, both of us teasing his body with our hands.  Finally both of us switch places, and continuing to enjoy this pleasure table until we are finished.

Three way fantasy?..... Uh, well, I once met a couple I didn't know.  I was in town for a convention.  (Where and how I met them is a long story....) They asked me to take photos of them fucking in their motel room.  I did.  ..... The next day I went to a session of the convention.  Gulp.  Yep, they were there.  Before I could say a word to reassure them I would be discreet, they left.  I didn't see them again.  I felt horrible.  I never would have said a word.  Their weekend in the city was ruined.  It never occurred  to me or them that we were in town for the same convention........ 

My three way fantasy has come true. Me, Chicken and Waffles! 

Arts & Crafts by Anonymous

The day had been long and I was sitting down with a glass of wine in my hotel room.  I was checking a few remaining e-mails when suddenly a video call came across my screen. I saw the name and it was Mistress.  I accepted it immediately.

"On your knees, boy" she said.  I obeyed at once.

“We’re going to do a little arts and crafts” she said with her usually wicked giggle before play. “Get the ball of twine and remove your clothes.”

Before leaving on my trip she had given me a few items to take along, but with no instructions nor any reasons why I should take them. I crawled across the floor to retrieve the ball of twine from the suitcase. And then, while still on the floor, I struggled to get out of my clothes. In the background I could hear her stirring honey into a cup of tea. Once I was completely naked I got into position, kneeling before her on the camera.

“Very good my boy” she said “Now were going to make a figure 8.”

I looked up puzzled. She began to explain that I was to take the twine and start making figure eights. Tying my shaft to my balls using a figure 8 pattern.  I was to repeat this motion making a tight figure 8  pattern until I was covered from the back of the shaft all the way to the tip and the balls bulged out like a big purplish mushroom.

Every now and then I would glance up to see my beautiful Mistress sipping her tea as I painstakingly complied until I had used about 25 feet of the very thin coarse twine.

“Now let's just talk about your day” Mistress said with a chuckle as I knelt there. The conversation lasted about 35 minutes and the entire time I knelt on the floor as my cock and balls just got tighter and tighter in their bonds. “Now my boy go and get the razor blades I gave you.”

I had no idea what she was going to do with the razor blade. But I complied and fetched the small package of everyday razor blades. She just started to laugh again. "Now you need to go to bed….it's been a long day and you have a long drive tomorrow, but obviously you can't go to bed with your cock tight like that.  It would be inhumane me to leave you so -- and wee bit dangerous.” She continued “Now take a razor blade and what I want you to do is start slowly cutting the twine back from the tip to the back of the shaft. One strand at a time slowly cutting each away with the blade.

I looked at her in horror. Surely I would cut myself. But I took a deep breath and slowly ever so slowly worked the blade back and forth on top of the twine. Tiny strands begin fraying away and the first binding popped free.  But the second was when it all started to go terribly wrong. The first cut…. a tiny cut….on the thin bulging flesh of my erect bound cock. The blood started with a trickle just a tiny drop. Instantly twine started to absorb it. Turning from a lite tan color to a dark crimson. I grimaced knowing this is going to be a long process.

Mistress just giggled and continued to sip her tea. Then she said “Now you know why I told you to take your first aid kit.” I closed my eyes as I heard her lovely wicked  laugh.

That would not be the last cut. So much blood was trapped within my member. By the time I cut the last strand…there had to be at least 40 tiny nicks….I had dozens of them up and down my shaft. On the floor before me there were scores of tiny pieces of bloodstained twine. I looked up at my Mistress and I took a moment to collect my thoughts.  Taking deep breaths and, for a moment, covering my face with the palms of my hands I reflected on what had just happened…..And then I whispered to my lovely mistress

" Thank you Mistress.”

I could see her smile and her delight. She was pleased and she said “You are welcome; now off with you to bed”.  And she hung up.

A Day With Mistress Part 3 by Anonymous

                                                                                   
           He  takes a deep calming breath as she releases the whips, letting them fall to the ground. She runs a finger up each side of his body from where her thighs are gripping him to just below his armpits. She slides her hands underneath him (pressing her breasts against his back), finds his nipples and playfully tugs and twists them. He gathers himself, rigid as a statue; every inch of him is alive with feeling, and he moans as she teases them, not caring what sounds he makes.

      She whispers tauntingly, with mock sympathy, "Isn't it just a shame that you cannot cum now, you poor thing?”. His ass rises and falls and he bucks his hips fruitlessly, his hard cock jabbing at empty air. He answers her in anguish, “Yes, Mistress; yes, oh god!”

     She releases his nipples and slithers beneath him, looking at his face as she caresses his ears, which calms him for a brief moment. She spreads her legs around his, her inner thighs warm with the heat from both of them. He looks down at her, his erect cock bobbing in frustration, not daring to break his position. “You're driving me wild, Mistress” ”Down, boy!” she says while guiding him with her hands, pulling him down on top of her, skin to skin, both of their pulses racing.

    Heat radiating from both of them, she wiggles teasingly below him, his cock pressed against her lower belly; they both feel her hard nipples digging into his skin. He groans, driven almost mad by denial, and he starts to writhe slowly on top of her. She squirms demurely upward and, grasping his face in her hands, demands a kiss. He presses his lips to hers -- passively, hungrily.  Mouths open. Tongues exploring once more despite their panting breaths. He curls his tongue around hers in a deep passionate kiss, sucks on her tongue as he starts to undulate on top of her.  As the length of his shaft slides back and forth along her cleft, he can feel her engorged clit along the fat vein beneath his penis.  His glans slides back and over the trimmed pubes on her smooth mons.

      She breaks the kiss to get some air, her head swimming; she reaches up to still his hips, looking into his eyes. He goes still, feeling her hands move over his welts. She inhales deeply, grinning sadistically while tracing the lines on his skin. She rakes her nails over the raised welts, leaving horizontal lines over the vertical lines.

      “You have been a very good boy, but no, you are not allowed to cum." She pushes him up just a bit, getting some room to maneuver. He rises to his hands and knees as she pulls herself through the pillars of his arms, her breasts in perfect alignment for pleasures to be had there.  Then she continues wiggling out from under him, bringing her altar just below his face, She grabs a handful of his hair and pulls his face down close to her core heat. He whimpers and compresses his lips, breathing raggedly as he catches her scent, his cock stiff and aching as his blood boils.

     “Lick me like the hungry boy you are!” she says and then she parts her thighs, providing an unobstructed view of her temple. He moans and lowers his head, brushing his lips lightly over her swollen labia. He places soft kisses along the crease of her thigh, back over her mons, and finally along her cleft. She thrusts her hips up against his face, eager, hungry, needing the service of his lips and tongue. His tongue extended, he keeps it still and drags it upward along her slit, then wiggles it to part her pink inner lips. He then curls his tongue, the tip just flicking under her clit.  
 
    She feels her nipples honed to diamond sharpness. She feels her skin tingling and breaking out in goose-bumps.  Her breath catches from the sweet sensations of his questing tongue. He rests his nose just above her cleft, his upper lip positioned just above her clit; finally, his tongue rises, circles around the base, and moves over the clit hood.

    She takes a deep sudden breath, her knees quivering as he presses his tongue flat against the engorged bud, and then, waving it, curls his tongue slowly. He starts to lick her reverently, his lips pursing, closing, as he tastes the sweetness of her temple. He moans as her walls flex and quiver.  His tongue, flicking now, laps eagerly as he kneels above her on his hands and knees.

    She breathes shallowly, her head falling back. Her mouth opens in a silent scream as he sends waves of pleasure throughout her body. He continues to lap hungrily, swallowing, licking, worshiping her, and aching deep down in his belly as he gives her pleasure. He rolls his tongue up and down, just enough, as he savors her.  He is aroused, obedient and grateful.

     She mutters “Ah, God!” as her body begins to tighten.  His lips press tight against her temple, his nose crinkling against her trimmed pubes; he begins to suck gently on her clit.  "Fuck!" she whispers; she inhales deeply as her toes curl. With his face buried between her thighs, he whispers that he is her dog, her slave, and that he worships her with his entire being.  His cheeks glisten with her juices. He flicks his tongue up and down, bending her engorged clit with the tip of his tongue.

    Her body stiffens, taut, as she braces herself for that explosive release she knows will come when she climaxes. He moans at her taste, bobbing his head up and down over her temple. She grabs his hair, yanking his face into her temple. “Eat it, God dammit!" she hisses and snaps between panting breaths.

    He nods and drags his tongue along her slit: down to dab at her perineum, and back up before eagerly sucking and lapping her clit. His lips and tongue trace every crease and fold, up and down, back and forth.

    Her mind lost, her walls flutter and clinch unto themselves, and her honey spills forth in waves. He flicks his tongue right beneath her anus and drags it over her gaping slit.  Then he sucks in her clitoris as she climaxes. He moans, opening his mouth as she gushes, and he swallows hungrily.

    She can barely breathe as she lets it all go, wallowing in sweet sensation.  He keeps his mouth glued to her temple and stays that way while her climax peaks. After her shuddering subsides, he then kisses her temple reverently.

     As she catches her breath he kisses spots along her inner thighs. She gathers her wits and commands him to clean her. He moans happily and drags his tongue along her thighs, along her temple, and along the crease of her ass.  He dutifully cleans her skin of her orgasmic fluids, and his tongue moves back over her mons, across the sticky spot of fluid left from his glans earlier.

    She lies there swimming, dizzy, ethereally spent as he continues with his tasks  He even licks a trace of fluids off of the floor. She lies there peacefully, her eyes closed, as he repositions himself between her thighs.  His forearms and hands are pressed flat on the floor, his thighs are open and his ass is raised high as he rests his forehead on the floor just in front of her temple.

    She slowly returns to the mundane world, shaking off her orgasmic fog. She then pulls him up, kisses him, absorbs her juices and slowly, passionately, sucks his tongue.  His mind reels.  He had ached to worship her in that way, to show his devotion, to serve her. She breaks off the kiss, looks him in the eye, and says nothing. She then rises and stands briefly before him before she silently but quickly walks away.  He bows his head and says “Yours, Mistress, I am yours.”

The End

Impromptu Confessions 4/10/14

If you could have fictional character or celebrity be your Domme or sub who would it be and why?  

Jessica Rabbit would be my Domme, cos she would be able to do ne of those power punches when angry and I would rocket to the moon. That would be cool.

Karl


Think how awesome it would be to owned bye Lara Croft (Tomb Raider) Mad whip skillz... rich,  adventurous,  not bad looking ...and i would get to fight and raid tombs as well  Win win


Captain America or Johnny Depp



I have a little crush on Sookie of Trueblood, I would love to be her Domme!


Captain Kathrine Janeway, cause shes hot, an she is like the only female captain ever in star trek no one screws with her ever!! she is bad ass, an well I like her cause I have an older woman fetish thing going on.  hahahahaha


I would have choosen Sean Connery as a submissive
He is a very sexy man, full of strength, smart, and a true man.
Who wouldnt want him to submit to your every whim?

the celebrity i would choose to be my Domme would be Uma Thurman in her role as Poison Ivy in the Batman movie. The reason is that her pheromonedust would make me do whatever she wanted and this would be just like it is now with my Mistress.

Billie Piper as Rose Tyler in Dr. Who.....  A sense of humor, willing to launch off on adventures, brave,  and fun.  Cute, too.  I think I'd be able to be totally open and honest -- and that she'd be ok with that.  Perhaps I'm influenced because I often feel like Dr. Who, visiting Earth, amazed at humans and how they think.   

for a dominant

two words

grace

jones

BDSM by Samina

BDSM

Please excuse me if i bleed on you,
It's just something i do,
and i do it well.

Please excuse me if the pleasure
becomes too much to bare.
I will shake and moan like your slut,
Prostrated on the floor.

Please excuse me if i present myself,
naked and vulnerable,
bent upon your raised knee,
and beg for a red tinted spanking.
Please take out your frustrations on me.

Please excuse me if i honour you with my scars,
My Mistress's badge,
on a notepad of skin.
Proud. Dark. Bound. Yours.

Please excuse me if i appear normal
to the naked eye,
While i dream of my submission to you,
Perfect and complete.

I have fought you, my love, for far too long.

I no longer dwell inside this conformity,
You may consider it an abnormality.
So i throw away my dignity,
and i relish in my truth.

Impromptu Confessions: My Favourite Toy Is...

I love my nails... my teeth... I control the pain... so easily and I can feel it so much better... taste it... they are my tools, my implements of pain...


My favorite toy is...

My Hitachi wand.  The end.


My favorite toy is my vibrating prostate massager.


My favorite toy is... My senses.
The way my body perceives the world,
The way I can interpret what's going on,
My window to the outside,

I love to be at the mercy of my Lady,
Her power extending so far as to manipulate my brain,
Her ability to twist and disrupt my sensation,
I love her manipulation of my world.

My favorite toy is my mind,
The way she plays with my very being,
The way she turns me into her own toy.
My world at her whim.


My favorite toy is my purple corset handle suede flogger.  It was the first real impact toy I bought. Prior to that my mentor had made me a pair of rope floggers to practice with.  Those are still in my toy bag. For sentimental reasons. Madi loves my 'Hello Kitty' paddle; just ask her *wink*

Taren


My favorite toy is my chastity cage with 5 pointy teeth that cause painful discomfort at times for the pleasure of my Dommes.


My favorite toy is my Stockroom 'Talon' nipple clamp: five retracting curved wires.  Much tougher than clover clamps!


My favorite toy is my Fleshlight, which i only use under guidance :)


My favorite toy is my ability to use my words to tease and to manipulate his mind.


My favorite toy is my mind and my imagination...  I can bring things to life within my mind before placing them onto paper or bringing them into the real world. Things said, done, or thought by persons, I feed into my imagination.  I then produce unique stories and bring a second depth into my relationships.


My favorite toy is.....a vacuum cleaner.

(couldn't help it)

I'm not Xavier


My favorite toy is a strap-on. As crude as it might sound, it's a dick I never had. And I would honestly choose it over any elaborate and complex toy you could come up with. It's just completely irreplaceable for me and it serves me amazingly well in my play . I could totally write an ode to it if only I could write. Yay.

Diary Of A Dominion Auction Slave by Xavier

                                    by Xavier

The ladies gather near the stage on which i'm kneeling, naked in a cage
I feel their eyes and begin to blush, frightened, yet excited. Wow, what rush

It's my turn. Though nervous and cold, I must impress if I am to be sold

I answer questions and even tell a joke and finally am purchased for a can of coke
Even though the price is low, off with my owner I must go

Day 1

She chains me to the radiator and says "Listen here you pathetic masturbator
I own you now for a week, now cage my cock so it won't leak."

She stripped me naked and my clothes she burnt, then whispered to me "Forget all you've learnt;
You're mine now and by day seven my debauched world will become your Heaven"

Day 2

Mistress kicked me and then she said, "I think it's time that fat ass bled." She strapped  me to her crucifix, then whipped and beat me just for kicks. She used whips, crops and leather belts to cover my ass in angry welts

Day 3

"Two days have gone and I have allowed to pass without invading your pretty ass. On day three I have set a goal to fuck and stretch your glory hole."

She took a strap-on from a case, it was fucking huge. You should have seen my face.
She lubed it up and fucked me deep, I remember that night -- as I could not sleep

Day 4

"Wake up my slave it's day four,  today I'll make you my little whore." I had to wear a dress and heels so high, and was then taken (to a gay bar) to perform forced bi.

Day 5

By day five I had accepted my fate: I was hers to humiliate. She took me to a public park, and -- on collar and leash -- she made me bark.  I realized I had become her dog, to tease and torture, for her to use and flog.

Day 6

 My lady said "Thank fuck it's Friday.  Today my whore the you clean and tidy."  I then made lunch and she invited  friends who fucked me with strap-ons  from both ends.  When I thought she couldn't be any meaner, she made me fuck the vacuum cleaner. With my humiliation complete ,  I knelt before her and kissed her feet.

Day 7

As we got to day seven,  my lady's debauched  world indeed had become my heaven.  She released my cock and then said "Go!".  I turned and cried and pleaded "No!". She smiled softly, gave my cock a rub and said "Xav be happy; you are now a dominion sub."

Zero Day by Doc

                                        by Doc Nolan

----------------
(Note:  A ‘zero day’ is a day that a long-distance backpacker takes off from hiking – sometimes spent in town, sometimes ‘on the trail’.  It is a respite from collapse, both physical and mental, after days of trudging up and down mountains through rain and under the baking sun.)
----------------

It had been six days.  It was time to rest.  Jimmy had simply sat down and decided, ‘From here I don’t move for the next 36 hours – maybe more!”  It had taken a half hour lying on his back gazing at the cumulus clouds scudding across the blue vault before he had the energy to put up his tent.  The sun was way past noon in the southern sky, but he still had several hours until sunset.   He estimated about 3 pm.

He heard a noise.  A vehicle.  It turned out to be a jeep, trailing a cloud of dust as it crossed the open field from a distant dirt road.

“Well, how are you doing?” shouted Jane.  Yep, she had said she’d come here and she had.  Jimmy was more than a bit surprised.  “How did you know I’d be here today?” he asked.  “Well, I figured you’d show sooner or later if I waited for you.”  Jimmy realized she was right.  She had a lot of patience.

“Oh,” she added, “I brought pizza!”  She grinned.  “Oh my fucking god,” said Jimmy.  “You are kidding!”

“Don’t get your hopes up, sonny,” she said.  “It’s from this morning and is stone-cold.”  She knew he wouldn't care.  She knew Jimmy that well.

As they ate the pizza, there was a long silence.  She spoke first.  “I’ve missed you a lot, Jimmy.” She put her hand on his knee, gently stroking it.  He knew she wouldn't like the truth.  “Uh, Jane, I’m really not in the mood now.  I’m hot.  I’m sweaty.  I’m ridiculously tired.  The only thing I want to do is to sleep.  OK?”  He could tell from her face that it was definitely NOT OK.  He hoped she wouldn’t start a fight.  He didn't have the energy.

“Well, I didn't expect that response, Jimmy!”  She glared.  He felt even more weary now.  She was not into hiking and he supposed she simply had no idea of what exhaustion was.  He forgave her.  He knew better than to say a single word.

“Well, aren't you going to say anything?” she asked.  He shook his head ‘no’.

“I will, then.  I fucking drive all the way up here to meet you and you tell me ‘I’m not interested’.  Right?”

Jimmy nodded, but added, “Let me try to explain…”

She interrupted.  “Make it good, Jimmy.  I am not happy!”  She stopped there.  He was thankful.
“I am very tired.  I want you to spend the night with me in the tent.  I want to hold you and hear you and smell you and touch you.  I’m just saying I don’t want anything more than that.”  She stared at him silently.

He then remembered something.  He reached into his pocket and found it: a mass of green crystals he’d found while crossing a stream.  It was unusual because the rock hadn't been tumbled in the water until it was smooth.  It was newly uncovered.  He had no idea how it had survived and ended up there.

“I found this and I thought you might like it.  Green is your favorite color.”  He waited to see if it would appeal to her – or be dismissed as a ploy.  She smiled.  That was a good sign.

“You are weird, Jimmy!  One second you’re telling me you’re too tired for sex, and the next you’re giving me something pretty.”  She gave him a funny look.  He returned the gaze, equally puzzled.  He didn't see the connection.  He was exhausted and didn't feel any twinge of sexuality and he wanted to give her a present.  Two different things.
 
They finished the cold pizza and then Jimmy suggested a freeze-dried lasagna (Mountain House).  She didn't seem very excited by the idea but once he’d boiled some water over his alcohol stove and poured it into the bag she seemed as hungry as he was.  Almost.
That night as they cuddled under his quilt, he spoke up.  “I’m sorry I’m not able to ‘do it’ tonight.”
She replied, “Shhhh.  Don’t worry about it.  Some other time you can make it up to me.”
“I will, you know,” he replied.  There was another pause.  Jimmy spoke again.
“Will you meet me at the end of the trail next weekend?”  He waited for her answer.
“I’ll try.  I’m not making any promises,” she said.

“OK.  Just do me a favor of leaving a message on my cellphone if you are not going to meet me.  I’ll get the message once I’m in town and have service.”

“I’ll do that.”  She paused.  “You still owe me, Jimmy.”

Jimmy replied, “I know.  I’ll do whatever you say once I’m back in civilization.  You know I always do, right?”

“Yeah”, said Jane.  “You do.  This I’ll let pass.  Anyway, you look like shit, frankly, Jimmy.”

“Yep!  I know.  Thanks for understanding, Jane.”

She replied with a chuckle, “Now go to fucking sleep, you asshole.  And when we get back together, remember that you said ‘I’ll do whatever you say once we’re back in civilization.’

The couple were soon snoring.  Neither of them even heard the coyotes yodeling under the full moon that night.  They just snuggled, warm and dry in the middle of nowhere.   The sleeping couple both believed that promises made under a full moon are never to be broken

Please MIstress by Leasha

                                        by Leasha

I awake slowly, uncurling from the tangled mess that once was the neatly positioned sheets, yawning, stretching out. The alarm lies silent on the bedside cabinet, its florescent numbers blinking 09:00, I had slept all night.  Reaching over, I feel out towards the opposite side of the bed. Nothing.  “Mistress”.   Still nothing, the bed sheets, cool to the touch.  Mistress has not been in them for awhile.   Looking around the bedroom, my clothes sit neatly folded on the chair.  Mistress’s hang on hangers on the back to the door. She can’t have gone far. And then I hear it, the telltale sound of a dishwasher. “Ahh, cleaning.” I breathe a sigh of relief. Mistress is just doing Mistress Things. Laying my head back against the pillows, I whisper in a murmur “five more minutes, just five; then I will get up,” I yawn once again before rolling over, snuggling back under the covers and drifting off into a soft sleep.

“BEEEp BEEEEp BEEEp”  -- “What the hell.” I wriggle around the bed, searching for source of the harsh beeping. In my sleep-filled stupor I reach out towards the bed side table. “ What” I cry, tugging my arm upwards.  Panicking I tug my other arm upwards.  Nothing, I cannot move, "Mistress” I scream. “ Mistress”.  Over and over I call out, only to be met with silence.  Tugging more intensely, I find that my legs are also stuck. I cannot move from the bed. “Mistress, please” the desperation, seeping from every syllable, blends into a choked begging. Tears form in the corner of my eyes, threatening to burst forth with each moment of silence. “ Mistress, please” I beg as one of the tears breaks from the rest.  “ Please, please”.  I break down, lost in a sea of tears, my barrier breached. Sobbing, heaving breaths, I pull and pull and pull against the restraints holding me to the bed. “Mistress, please, Mistress.  Where are you?” I cry over and over, descending further and further into wracking sobs. My words drift into unrecognizable patterns of sobs, panic and desperation.

Leaning back on the bed, I realize that Mistress is not coming. Crying will not work. Calling out her name over and over will not get me anywhere. I take slow, deep breaths, attempting to calm my breathing. She has to be here somewhere.  She would not leave me completely. I feel it again: complete, utter hopelessness.  Desperation, longing and panic fill my senses and take over from rational thought.  She has left me. I cannot control that thought.  All logical thought leaves me. “Mistress,” I scream utterly panic-filled, and hyperventilating. Tears stream down my cheeks: snotty, wet, disgusting tears. I thrash about the bed, pulling with all my might on each arm. I cannot break the restraints. Completely deflated, sitting up in the bed, my arms still tightly fastened to the bed, I lean forward. Strands of my hair slip forwards and cling to my hot, wet, tear-stained face, whilst only small, soft sobs leave my lips. The rising and falling of my chest begins to slow, whilst my heart continues its attempts to break free from my chest. Exhausted from my screaming I collapse further forwards. My lips pitifully mouth one last word, “Mistress”.

A drumming sound catches my attention. I look up, with her fingers against the door frame, drumming, there she is -- standing in the doorway, one arm positioned against her hip, a questioning eye brow raised in annoyance. She just looks at me. “Mistress”.  I breathe a sigh of relief as the panic subsides. She has not left me. I am not alone. The look on her face paints a thousand words.  You know the look, the one that says, 'what the fuck'  whilst making you shit yourself almost at the same time. I know that look.  Containing myself, I lower my gaze, looking down at the disheveled bed spread. Then I hear it, that huff of air, as Mistress just turns away, returning to what she was doing before my pitiful scene.

I lie back down, resting my head on the pillow.  At least I know for sure that I am not alone.  That makes my predicament slightly more bearable, until it hits me: that horrid, unyielding, never satisfied, forever taunting, once it is in your mind it is stuck feeling. I have to pee!!

I wriggle back and forth, trying to make my mind think of other things.  The weather? Nope, it is raining.  That doesn't help, so I think about lunch.  Mmmmm, what will be for lunch?  Nope, that does not last long.  My mind moves onto thinking about a nice cup of tea. Nothing is working. I hold my legs together as tightly as I physically can, all the while wriggling around, biting my lips. Should I call out? The look from Mistress earlier was a "dare to call out again and see what happens" look. Did I dare to call out?  No, I'm not that desperate. I can wait. So I do, for what seems like an hour, I lie wriggling, thinking about other things, attempting to distract my mind. I cannot do it any longer.  It is slow torture. I cave. “ Mistress” I call. “ Please Mistress.” Nothing.  I sit up once again.  That's the biggest mistake ever, since it puts more pressure on my bladder, I let out an involuntary squeal of alarm. “Mistress, please,” I try calling out a little louder, “I really have to go!”  The desperation is once again creeping into my voice as I plead.  Silently I think: 'Please Mistress, come through'. My groaning turns to whimpering.  Still Mistress is not there. The longer I wait the more the tightness in my tummy increases.  “Please, please, Mistress”.  I hear the creak of the floorboard outside the bedroom. I tug harshly against my restraints “Mistress, I need to go”. Without a word, she enters, pulls the key from round her neck, pulls one of my wrists free and then drops the key onto the bed. She then is gone again.  In my flustered state, I fumble with the key, putting it in backwards, up-ways, back-ways, any way but the right way.  I dance around  before finally getting my second wrist free.  With both free hands, the removal of my ankles takes less time.  Scrambling across the covers I make a dash for the door. I tug the handle, yank it open, run (well, more hop/dance down the hall) and go straight into the bathroom. As I sit down, the question niggling in the back of my mind is answered. (Where is Mistress?) Standing in the doorway, twirling the key, Mistress waits until I am done, and then silently escorts me back to the bedroom. All my attempts to speak are shot down with 'that' look: the look that says 'keep trying'. Back to bed I go and, the restraints refastened, am left alone, spread eagled, but without covers this time.

Lunch time comes and goes.  The light from the window slowly dims, and still I lie on the bed. About 3 pm Mistress peers around the door, laughing to herself.  Still I lie still.  I do not dare break the look. When 6 pm arrives Mistress enters the room, folds her arms, and looks down upon me.  Cautiously I raise my eyes and meet her gaze. Am I finally to be freed?  Yer and right spring to mind.  Alas I am right.  Mistress picks up a small locked case sitting by the bedside.  The code to the lock only she knows. Inside the purple dome of a Hitachi is visible against the black foam lining the case. My heart sinks.  I know what is coming next. Mistress smiles a wickedly evil smile, plugs in the wand and looks down on me. I cannot hide my fear. My body trembles as I recall the last time this device was used on me. She slips a harness around her waist and clips the Hitachi into place.  I groan softly and lean my head against the pillow.  I tense my eyes shut as I lie and wait.  I know the rumble of intense pleasure immediately followed by even more pleasure -- before ultimately leaving me in immense pain. Mistress slips the wand into the harness. I wait, breath bated. I won’t lie.  I am exceedingly turned on at this moment, but she just walks away. I open one eye peeking after her.  A breath I have been holding in finally slips from my lips as I lie waiting -- again.

A low grumble of vibrations starts.  Sensations shimmer through my lower body, moving upwards, coursing through my intimate areas. Finally they reach the most delicate area of all, my clitoris. Nestled tightly between my thighs the harness ensures the wand -- not yet on full power -- cannot move far. As the vibrations travelthey send wave after wave of sweet pleasure through my clitoris. I groan louder and louder as the wand presses upon me  As I tug at the restraints, her every movement presses the wand tighter against my pussy until I can no longer hold back. I let out a cry of pleasure.  My orgasm shudders though my body.  The vibrations, which continue through my release, never fully allow my body to come back down. I strain hard against the restraint and I wriggle around the bed.  I tug my feet apart.  My breasts jiggle with every movement, intensifying the pleasure emanating from the wand. My clitoris, still swollen from the first wave, presses hard against the wand, each touch causing another gasp and squeal. My breathing increases.  I gasp audibly, whilst attempting to hold myself together.  No, I cannot.  I cannot hold back!  I orgasm a second time and scream with pleasure, my back arching upwards. My toes curl into the softness of the bed, the sheets beneath my pussy.  The wand shows exactly how aroused I am.  Sticky, wet cum seeps from between my swollen pussy lips, coating the wand and marking the bed sheet. I breathe hard and fight against the wand. Licking my now dry lips, I see a smile on Mistress’s face, from the side.  She is standing against the wall with her arms folded.  She is watching, waiting.  She knows I cannot keep this up.

I moan, writhe, buckle and squirm, as I attempt  to gain some relief from the onslaught of the wand, I cannot free myself from its clutches.  Once again I begin heading towards another climax.  The pain of it is starting to etch its way onto my clitoris. I scream -- breaking the communication silence with Mistress, I call out her name “Mistress” whilst clawing at the sheets.  My back arches once again and a feral groan escapes my lips. The brief periods of relief between orgasms are beginning to get shorter and shorter . After orgasm number three a slick sheen of sweat glistens against my pale skin.  The vibrations of the Hitachi are still going strong.  Between deep groaning breaths I scream “ Mistress! Please!” Tears slide down from my eyes and glisten on my cheeks as pleasure slowly turns into pain.

My tears turn into pleading, begging groans.  My body quivers against the Hitachi, still fighting to get free  I am lost in my own orgasms. I cry out in anguish. “Mistress please, please, stop”. I can no longer sit upright and the muscles in my stomach quiver, unable to support my own weight.  Orgasm number four sends pleasure waves through my body but no relief  is granted from this release.  My swollen lips and clitoris can take no more.  The light film of glistening sweat has changed to a thick coating.  My tears, once only trickling, now stream from my eyes as I beg with every fiber of my body: “ Mistress! Please!”.

The wand stops.  Mistress stands with the Hitachi's plug in her hand, a satisfied smile on her lips.  She turns to leave the room. Completely exhausted I lie in a puddle of my own cum and juices.  I am still held in place by my restraints. I fall asleep and do not know how long I lie there, but Mistress eventually comes in and releases me from the restraints.  A glass of water is on the nightstand when I awake.  I drink deeply from the glass.  Mistress sits beside me.  In my eagerness to drink I had not seen her there. I open my mouth to speak, but her fingers touch my lips.  Without words she silences me, laying my head down onto her lap, Mistress comforts me stroking my head.  Once again I drift into sleep.

Spontaneous Confessions: My First Time

....looking at FemDom porn.   *whistles*   It really shocked me at first, but then I looked closer, and closer, noticing the devices, the leather, the buckles.   I got so turned on, but I couldn't enjoy my erection.  You see, my gf at the time had challenged me to look at it, knowing I would like it.   I told her I wouldnt, and she bet that I would.  The bet was that if I liked it, I couldn't masturbate until I admitted it to her.  Well, she won the bet.  lol


The first time I had a boy kneel at my feet was incredible.  I have to say, I had seen subs kneeling for women in SL many times, but never understood the draw of it.

Then I met this sweet boy at the Dominion soon after I arrived.   I told him to come over and kneel for me, and he did.   I watched him kneel and heard him call me Miss on voice and I was amazed how it felt.  I was surprised and it turned me on!  I had not expected that.  It just felt right.  I realized I deserved it, this obedience.  And then realized it would be even more special when it signified something deeper between my own sub and I.  So, I waited a long time and then found the right girl.  She was so sweet and sensual.  And when she kneeled for me the first time after I collared her, I sighed.  When she asked me what was wrong, I told her ' "Not a damn thing, everything is right."


I will never forget the first time

that I was spanked.   It was by a friend that is a Domme in RL, and I was scared.  Not scared for the pain, but scared to try it.  I had not until then, and I didn't know back then what it meant that I even wanted to try.  But I did.  So I bent over her legs and I felt the paddle come down.  I was shaking, but I did not say a thing.  I found I was gritting my teeth, and felt I was resisting somehow.  The paddle kept coming though, and finally....  I cried.

It wasnt because it was painful, though she brought the paddle down hard, but because I had been so scared to feel pleasure from it.  I was scared it meant there was something wrong with me.  Then I cried, and when all was done, it got so much easier to be happy being who I was and appreciating it.


I will never forget the first time I was masturbating (as I had since I was seven years old)... and white stuff began coming out.  I had no clue what was happening -- but since there was no blood, I figured it might be "normal" and that it might have something with all the hair that had just started growing around my privates...


I will never forget the first time I ever met my Mistress.


I will never forget the first time I realized the amount of control I had over another human being.


I will never forget the first time I...was tied up spread eagle on a bed and felt the cane, crop, and flogger on various parts of my body from the Mistress I had at the time and found out I liked it very much.


I will never forget the first time I...
Watched a porno.  I was 13.  I snuck in to my Dad's stash, which I knew was tucked deep within my parent's closet.  It was VHS, and I remember being so scared of getting caught, even though I knew they were both at work until 5pm.  I forget the name of the movie, but it was some cheesy flick about a women's gym.  While some men were in the film, it was my first exposure to girl-on-girl action.  I remember feeling really excited, and a bit grossed out (hey I was 13!), but I watched it until the end and thought, "Damn that was a stupid movie."  But I never stopped watching from that point on.  Porn became a guilty pleasure.


I will never forget the first time I wrote her name
With glinting steel, crimson ink,
And no small measure of pain.

When my body reveled in her complete control,
And bathed in the joy of her pleasure,
An act of pure obedience.

It was a touch that I detested,
Wounding myself at her will,
My desires, tested.

When thick red tears rolled down my chest,
When your name was written upon my chest,
My submission, finally expressed.


I will never forget the first time I...

Drew blood... it was purely by accident, mind you, and we're lucky nothing bad came from it.  Unless you think my new found fetish is bad.  My need, my yearning for it... Would you call it bad?

Would you think that drawing it out, breeching the protection of thin layer skin at his most vulnerable spots... bad?

Reverently inhaling that thick, metallic smell, knowing, learning his essence.  That which keeps him tethered to this earth... too much spilt and it can be dangerous... not enough precautions and there can be infection.  The preparation, mentally, physically... the care going into it.  It's a ritual.

*licks that streak of life running down his skin*


I will never forget the first time I...


i could call a boy 'Mine'.

Conditioned by Lady Saaskje

"CONDITIONED"
_________________

You belong to me.
Your mind is mine, I will scout, I will maraud.
Your body is mine, I will rape its landscape, set fire to its topography.
I will plunder you and claim my domain.
You will fall on your belly at my feet and beg
For mercy.
Your fear is my intoxicant.
I am drunk on your terror, your surrender.
You serve me.
You obey me.
You worship me.
I am your God, boy.
I am your religion.

Suits You by Samina

Suits You

The rubber suit is waiting for me and I hate it.

She's always been kinky for latex. I've known that ever since I met her, but I was OK about going out to the fetish clubs in some abbreviated skin tight black latex if it kept her happy. Now it's as if she's using my growing dislike of it as another weapon in her armoury. Hence the suit - the rubber punishment suit. There's her cruel streak too, but I can live with that. Each to her own.

She's here, and in a good mood too. Maybe she's forgotten or changed her mind. But no, she's smiling and lightly licking her lips. Bad sign.

"Get me the instruments, darling."

Instruments. Her/our pet name.

"And don't forget your rubbers, sweetie."

I strip off while she idly whips the air and slaps the cushions. Corporal foreplay.

"These?"

She nods slowly and watches appreciatively as I squeeze myself into a pair of black latex cycle shorts. She picks up the heavy leather split tawse and motions to the arm of the couch.

I lay, waiting for the strap to fall but nothing really prepares you for it. The fiery pain; the feel of it curling around you. I clench my teeth and endure. The rubber serves a purpose: it protects a little and allows her to strike hard, really hard. She enjoys that.

She hauls me up by my hair. "Open up for me."

She loves this position. I stand, legs apart, hands clasped behind my neck, facing her. She can see every twist of pain that runs across my face when she uses that strap inside my thighs.

"Stand proud, darling. Titties up unless you want them clamped."

I can't help crying out as the strap curls around my leg, biting and stinging despite the rubber.

"Look at me, darling, I want you to keep looking right at me."

My eyes are filling with a crystal haze of tears she as works all over the tops of my thighs inside and out.

"Hold out your hands"

Cane on hands: guaranteed tears.

She lightly licks a thick salt tear from my cheek and puts little steel clamps on my nipples.

With stiff and swollen hands I ease down the shorts. She wants to cane me and canes cut. On my bruised flesh the caning is agony. Sometimes I can get through it, but not tonight.

"All you have to do is ask," she murmurs in my ear.

I ask. Another couple of strokes and I beg. At the sight of the paddle I plead to be allowed to wear the rubber suit.

She leads me up to bed, still crying, clad from elbow to knee in the thick, translucent amber rubber, like an outsize romper, zip locked at the collar. Laying in bed she nuzzles at me, tasting flesh and rubber, hugs me and brings us both to shattering climaxes. She sleeps.

The rubber suit is on me and I hate it.