Master Manipulator - An Anonymous Domme

I am a dominant woman.. serious, sensual, seductive and sexy..
some may think manipulator, I tend to agree, but lately, I've found I'm a Master Manipulator.
Master in the sense of a Dom, - and one I am determined to master.

Havent you ever glimpsed an arrogant dom, one that makes your blood boil, gives you that tendency to fast forward your thinking of how good he'd look with your collar on, under your thumb, begging you for approval. Begging your command?
Well, I've had recent incidence to enjoy my newest past time..
I call it.. "Flip a Dom."

There is something very choice in reducing a superior believing male Dom to a quivering glob of sticky cum. Making him believe he's always wanted to discover the intensity of a cock cage, or what's even more delicious, denial of that all important pop.

The finest part of the entire idea is motivating this dom.. into believing it was all his idea, and just when he finally submits, the zip cords come out, the syran wrap, the ice and violet wands, the bindfolds and pinwheels.

It is an incredible victory, as well as filthy exciting to create.

I have taken a flippant, omnipotent, egotistical know it all, living end of Master Dominate asshole, and turned him into my very own slut, dying to please me, living to moan my name, and cum on command. It is rich to hear "yes Mistress, you are sublime Mistress".. when he is used to saying.. "take that dick bitch"..
now.. he is the one hearing that line, and he is the one sucking my leather dick. Truly it is a personal and audacious "victoire"
" for me, and I can not help sit and gloat over it.

What was the little trick that I used to coax him over to my "dark side".. the delicious side B of my own personal vinyl record? It was easy, I just asked him my debaucherous starter question..
I asked him if he'd ever cum so hard he was nauseous.. he of course said, " uh no.." I said knowingly, "then boy, you need to know the ecstasy of defeat, and shake the hand who blinds you"
"sighs, I think you've never had a serious orgasm before, bless your heart"

Works every time.

A Dominion Domme.

The Sadness of Releasing a boy - Anonymous Domme

I write this confession trying to find a bit of peace inside of me, hoping that these words and thoughts will abandon my body and I would breathe again.

* I release you* I say while I sit here, watching you, thinking what is going on your mind. You keep talking and saying those words, once and again... but for me all is done.
I feel your hand slipping away from me...

Your eyes, those eyes that once looked at me and made me feel so proud of you, I can't hardly stare at them now.

And my eyes, they should be flooded in tears now... but I don't cry... I keep myself strong and serene, because I am a Domme and these things supossely don't affect us. How wrong you are...
And you say to me that you are shaking and you are crying, and I am still there sitting, keeping my self calm and trying to be logical as a Domme should do... how wrong you are...

And while you keep talking and apologizing. I just want to wake up of this dream and come back to yesterday when you were the most devoted man. What happened with that man? Who are you?

I wish I could feel nothing now. Nothing that you say has sense anymore. My mind becomes numb, be careful what you wish.

I make the last effort before to pronunce my last words* Take your things and leave.* I say cold as a rock. No tears, no hesitating, but how much hurt inside..., I feel the urge to hold you in my arms and say all will go away tomorrow... But is not going to be like that.

I know. The shadow of the doubt would be over us roaming and remembering me this same day.

I turn my eyes to the side losing yours... You take your things and you leave the rose that you put each morning in my breakfast. I see you leaving and I grab the pamlrests of my chair trying to contain my emotions. I press so hard I can feel my nails digging deep on my skin. I close my eyes and I try to breathe deep. Tears run down my face trying to wash away the pain, missing you already.

Days have passed. You are gone now, and with you all our good moments.

You left behind a rose... and the wounds of its thorns.

The Hidden Male - Michme Sandalwood

I listen to the sounds of My Mistress approaching me. “Greeting My Mistress” I say in this turtle like position as required. With every step of her heels touch the floor I hear the resounding click. You can almost hear her toe hit the floor before the heel strikes the floor. I know she leaves the floor as bare wood so I will hear her every movement when I can’t see her. I hear the movement of her clothing shuffle. I try to image what she’s wearing today. I’ve never seen her in the same outfit twice. The cloth sounds close to her skin, soft textures, something very quite. It must be expensive. I would like to see this but my head is down with my view on nothing but the wood floor.

I’m not moving a muscle as she approaches my form. She’s so near me. I can feel her gaze gliding on the back of my skin. I’m in this position for her to examine every little detail of my back. I can hear her breathe inhaling and exhaling slowly. It’s soft with no excitement or rush. She touches her fingers on my back tracing the lines of my bones beneath my skin. The first touch was so unexpected I nearly jumped as I kneel here. She moves her finger lightly from bone to the next bone following the tail she wishes. Goose bumps rise and race form every little corner of my being. She moves her fingers so slowly that the goose bumps travel up my back. I know that she has also raised a blush on my skin.

A cold point is jabbed onto my back so sharp it’s cold. Then I feel her fingers and palm on the cold and smell the aroma of oils. She rubs the oil onto my back making my skin shinny, soft and warm. Her rubbing oil on my back is something new and different. I don’t know why she’s taking this tender care for my back. Her fingers excite me so much as she rubs the oil into my flesh. She kneads my flesh with every movement. This is very relaxing. I wonder as to why she’s doing this? She applies a second coat on my flesh rubbing it into the first. My skin is now so supple to her touch.

She rises and moves away from me to her chest near the foot of the bed. I hear her insert a key to her unlock it. It opens with a squeak and she moves objects inside it. This is the trunk she keeps her toys in. Some will please me other will not so she has told me. Most have pleased my body but for one. I don’t know if this will be the one or not, but I wait with my head so close to the floor daring not to look. I hear her close and lock the trunk again. Slowly she returns to me, so very slowly she moves across the floor. My skin burns hot with excitement as she approaches me. No knowing what she’s holding in her hand. Can it be the thing I dread or something else, I can’t tell. She’s so slow to approach my kneeling form. She knows I am totally at her mercy.

Again I jump when I feel something on my back. Something is teasing my flesh that is a bit longer than a finger. The something turns into two, then three, the four on my back. They are just a light caress to my skin.

For the first time since she enters she speaks to me with a sharp voice “Pet you’ve displeased me last night flirting with other ladies instead of with me.”

I dare not contradict her as she stands over me other than to reply meekly “yes My Mistress.”

I also fear that what she holds in her hand is what I fear from the trunk. My skin turned a hot red, if it was even possible. It’s burning me with excitement and fear. She stands there so close to me. Yet I feel her distant and hard with that sharp voice still echoing in my mind.

Then I hear it, the very bad sound that I feared might be in her hand. The whoosh of her cat of nine and the tips finding my skin with an intense pain that removes the air from me.

“One, Thank you Mistress” I quickly say as the burning reaches deep within me.

Then a second whoosh I hear from her mean cat as it tears into my back with out any mercy.

“Two, Thank you My Mistress” I babble through the pain.

Feeling my world close tight into me with gray as the color I see. I hear the whoosh again followed by even greater pain on my skin.

My breath is pulled from my lungs. I struggle to say “Three, Thank you My Mistress.”

Kneeling there feeling my skin cry to me to crawl away, run, hide, turn invisible, just do something to stop the pain. You think that you are a stupid boy to kneel here, taking this.

Whoosh the cat calls my back again with more pain in new untouched areas.

Struggling to see the light from the gray I say “Four, Thank you My Mistress.” Thinking four this is only four I’ve felt on my back.

The pain cries for me to move. My training tells me to stay and take what my Mistress in giving me and thank her. Thank her My Mistress for even the air I breathe.

Whoosh the cat signs it song of misery to my back.

The light vanishes but I know I must tell her even in this dark place “Five, Thank you My Mistress.”

Searing heat is rising from my flesh. Does the tale of can you fry and egg on the sidewalk apply to my burning back? I fee the slightest of air crossing me with new pain. I feel my muscles tighten on my very bones crying not to let this happen again.

She waits such a long time then I feel her hand on my balls and dick as she squeezes them. “Excited are we pet?” she asks. After kneading them for a minute she releases them and rises.

Whoosh the cat cares not how I feel as it sings it tune of pain into my flesh.

“Six”, I whimper the word as fast as I can “Thank you My Mistress.” It seems for ever waiting, kneeling before her. She’s taking her time with this. I can’t see her but I suspect she’s smiling at my waiting for her to finish.

Whoosh the cat cries again.

My pain has returned even greater than the last time, lost in the pain I try to remember if I call out. No quick mind calls the number I scream in my head “Seven” with an intake of air “Thank you My Mistress.” Did I say it in time or will she require more.

I’m waiting so long as my back pulses. Tears from in my eyes and are pouring to the floor in front of me. Breathing is very hard now. Every breath I can’t get into me deep enough. I’m waiting so long is this the end of you anger?

Whoosh the cat cuts into my raw back again.

I’m lost in the pain, in the gray cloud calling me to go into that place that no one can find me. I scream I need to count.

“Eight, Thank you My Mistress” with the pain cloud so close to the end of me. Again I know I will have to wait. My back is pulsing with pain and feeding every inch of my mind.

Waiting hoping she has finished, but no the cat call again to my back, whoosh.

Some one is yelling in the next room I hear that and wonder who? My mind call say the number quick boy say it now. “Nine, Thank you My Mistress” I rattle out my mouth with still some one screaming near me that I do not see. Pulsing my back cries to me to do something, anything to just stop the pain. All I can to is wait and wonder.

I feel a finger on my neck, caressing my skin there. It’s something different to focus on over the cries of my back. It moves so slow on my neck and shoulders just above the angry back that I’ve. I feel it leave my back. Where it was is now cold and missing.

The finger, I think, where is that finger as I feel it push into my ass hole. She probes deep to find my prostrate and rubbing it to excite my dick to a new hard that I’ve not had in a long time. She massages it for a long time then removes her finger.

As I wait and wonder whoosh the cat calls me to the life of pain again.

So sharp this time and I hear that scream again from somewhere. Boy count I hear myself calling again. “Ten, Thank you My Mistress” I hear from some far land. Was that me did I answer the call of the cat?

Waiting a long time without anything, then I feel the lips of My Mistress on the top of my head kissing me softly. “You did well in your punishment mine” she whispers. Her soft voice in my ears is music that will make me complete. Even through the pain I smile at her soft gentle voice so near my. With her breath falling on my hair softly I know that she’s My Mistress that loves me.

Remaining in this position I then feel the cold wet of the cloth cleaning my striped back. It reduces the pain a little but I know it will be there for a long time. I know I will need to do better to please My Mistress. Every touch of the cloth gives me a cold touch, but it only last a second before the pain returns as it moves away to a new spot.

“Pet I do love you, this did hurt me to do this to you” she tells me.

She kneels before me for my visual pleasure. She sits there just looking at me for the longest of a time. Smiling softly at me and melting my soul as only she can do.

She moves away and returns with something smelling of KY jelly. She kneels behind me on my legs trapping them. I feel something press to my ass hole. Some thing wide as it pushes into me. She keeps pushing and pushing till it rest on my prostrate. She knows she has found it and start this vibrator. She moves it back and forth slowly on my poor prostrate. The feeling is so intense I know I will cum without permission. This is what she wants but will not tell me to cum. So long she teases it the pressure is building and I can’t stop it.

Whining softly I plead “please may I cum, My Mistress?” She kneads my butt as she plays some more.

“Did you ask me something pet?” She coos as she teases me.

A little more boldly I ask “Please My Sweet Loving Mistress may your pet, your property cum?”

I know she’s smiling as she reaches under me and tweaks my nipple. “Will you lick it up pet?” she laughingly asks me.

“Yes My Mistress I will clean your floor of my cum.” whispering to her as I bit my lip to not cum.

“Ok pet you may cum now” she tells me. This is all I need to release my pain and I cum and cum and cum.

I do Love My Mistress so much she’s the light of my life.



MichMe Sandalwood,

Tribute: This was a story that I was requested to write based on a picture in my then Mistress now Protector’s home Lady Cenedra Ruby.

Confession of an Anonymous Domme

Confession, I once spent an entire evening at a party reminding myself that I don't accept male pets. A boy came to me so eager. Setting himself at my heel, he never said a word, but there was something in his eyes. A yearning that was so strong it caused him to shake.

It is very rare for this to have any effect on me. Usually, I would have simple ignored him, but there was something there that I found captivating, even exciting.

It is one of the few times my personal preferences could be swayed and rarely to fill the needs of another .

I even wonder from time to time if I shouldn't have just taken the boy. But that is a fantasy confession for another day.

Confessions of a New girl - Zaira Miles

It has been, Well this is my first confession, so a life time since I last confessed..

Just over a week ago, I stepped back into sl BDSM land, a new area.. FEMDOM! It is a land I have wandered before.. many times in fact. I confess that I did not expect to return the next day, or the one after.. to still be here a week later.

I confess that I expected it to be the same old, same old.. people playing, men playing women and the "no I won't talk, don't ask"..

I found it quiet on the first day.. and the second.. the people around seemed nice.. I confess I was (and am) afraid of doing something wrong.. so much that I hid around the edge when I wanted to be told to come forward.

The tone, of the Ladies when a sub does something wrong I confess makes me tremble, makes me thankful that I have spent time making my av "pretty" and that I picked a sensible name.

I confess that when I first heard Miss Eva speak my stomach flipped, that even though I knew I had greeted Her, when she questioned it I doubted it myself and had to go back and look, just to be sure. I confess that it excited me when she examined my profile, and that I was delighted in her expression of realising that I was an actual female submissive!!

Being asked .. well, told.. that I was on trial both excited and filled me with dread.. I had no idea what trial involved and I sat fidgeting at my desk while I waited in the cell. I confess to loving how my human zaira looks.. I confess that it is hard being a tiny Tweety, even though it is cute.. for a week.

I confess if I had been a tube of lube I may have cheated.

The Ladies who wore the police outfits, I confess made me very excited.. every last one made me want to run to their feet..

I feel a little more settled now, I know if I keep my brain attached I am unlikely to do something very stupid.. I find the Misses who have spoken to me a little highly intriguing, to want to please them to find out more.. to be called to their feet in time.

I confess to getting tired of random male subs who im me and try to make me be a Miss. I confess I felt bad when a boy got in trouble for chasing Tweety, but also being kind of glad that not one, but two Miss's got involved, it made me feel safe.

I confess my stomach dropped to my toes when Miss Zarita said "I want you Zaira" only for it to be followed with "to write something" haha

After my first week at Dominion, I confess to being very excited for Tuesday to come and being human again, to getting to know a couple of Miss's a little more.. and to hoping for lots more weeks here

A Romantic Breakfast - Alexith Destiny

Earlier this week, the Miss I hope to be owned by, and i had a romantic breakfast together. My confession is that Miss has sweetly and commandingly complicated, beyond all recognition, my love of marmalade. Once i merely saw a citrusy condiment. My love for citrusy jam was simple and pure. It was simply a condiment i enjoyed on toast. You could say, i loved it “as a friend”. Today, the sight of a jar of marmalade makes me blush, and sends a jolt of arousal to the pit of my stomach. My relationship with a jar of marmalade will never the the same again. That’s right. Under the loving but wicked guidance of my Miss a new kink is born. This is the confession of a condimentophile.

Let me go back to how it began.

I woke just before dawn, my half closed eyes only vaguely registering the muted morning light dancing on the bedroom wall. As I drifted into wakefulness I became aware of a thrill of excitement. Still warm under my covers, I searched for the cause of this pleasant mysterious feeling, and suddenly I remembered. This morning I will be having a romantic breakfast with Miss. The excitement was almost unbearable.

Eagerly I assembled the mysterious assortment of items she requested i have available, until finally, my preparations complete, i took a moment to clear my mind. The reality of sharing this romantic and intimate moment with Miss hit me again, and i found myself aching for Her arrival. Aching to be in Her presence. “How lucky a boy am i!” i, eagerly thought.

As the time drew near, my eyes rested on the most peculiar object that Miss requested i have ready: a jar of deep, dark, rich orange marmalade. On my knees in readiness, i peered into the amber depths of my most favourite of breakfast condiments. I suddenly recalled something Miss had said the night before. In a tone as sweet, dark and potent as the marmalade itself, She had told me how important it is to Her that Her boys are well nourished. I shivered.

I shivered again as suddenly, She was there, with me. It was breakfast time.

The breakfast started innocently enough. I brought Miss tea, and we chatted softly as slumber lifted. It wasn’t long though, before i realised that a romantic breakfast with Miss was going to be a lot more than breakfast in bed and the attentiveness presence of Her boy.

Oh how innocent i was!

I lived in a world where a romantic morning meant breakfast in bed, coffee kisses and idle chat. I lived in a world where marmalade sat solidly and respectfully on the coffee table, and the dark shadowy world of condimentophilia remained veiled to my innocent eyes. It was a simpler time.

It started with the wooden spoon. Her voice languid with sleep, Miss had me strip and find my knees. She sweetly commanded me to sharply spank my quivering behind. Blushing, and already aching in hardness, each blow from the wooden spoon caused me to whimper needfully into Her ear.

“Isn’t this romantic?” she crooned.

“Oh yes, Miss” was all i could say in response.

“Are you hungry, boy?” she asked me, as i struggled to regain composure.

“Oh yes, Miss. Oh yes. So hungry”.

I could hear the smile in her voice, as she commanded me to get the bread and the marmalade. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, as she ordered me to take a handful of gooey, sticky pithy marmalade and to smear it, thickly and generously, along the length of my aching hard cock. On my knees, my head lowered, gazing at the bread waiting on the floor between my legs and knowing exactly what it was there for, I did just as i was told.

The marmalade was cold, sticky and ohhhh so humiliating as i lathered it along the length of my owned cock and over my aching balls.

Miss sweetly whispered in my ear again how romantic it was, to share this breakfast together, and i could only tremble and agree.

As i leant forward for Miss, she instructed me to fill myself with a butt plug while slowly stroking my sticky, marmaladey cock, i could only agree again and again how very romantic it was. I could hear Miss softly laughing as the buttplug stretched me to full slutty capacity.

She then pulled out my nipples snapping pegs on them as she twisted. i could only groan again and again my helpless owned and humiliated agreement at just how beautifully romantic it was to be there with Miss.

“Thank You Miss. Thank You Miss. Thank You Miss.”

Finally it was time. Miss firmly commanded me to take the jar of marmalade, and to plunge my aching teased and humiliated cock into it. I flushed with complete embarrassment and arousal to hear the sticky squelching sound of my cock sliding in and slowly withdrawing. Over and over. I groaned and my eyes fluttered closed as I did as i was told, for Miss’s amusement. So romantic.

As Miss painstakingly counted to ten, the point at which i could finally have my release, the whole world shifted. After an eternity of waiting finally, oh god finally i was permitted to explode in humiliated complicated bliss, cumming violently over the bread in front of me.

She then asked me to pick up the bread wipe it on my marmalady cock and have some breakfast. As I slowly ate the slice of bread for Miss, i tasted every moment of my humiliation. The sweet bitterness of the marmalade, the salt of my cum and sweat, all going down into me and becoming part of me.

So there it is: the humiliating, complicating and above all .... sticky .... confessions of a marmalade lover. Thank You Miss, for O/our romantic breakfast together.

From Anonymous to Anonymous

An IM, she said “I wrote a confession tonight” my heart raced because I loved to hear her voice. I replied, “I can’t wait to hear it Miss, I’m sure it’ll be very interesting”. I smiled to myself and then wrote in IM “smiling”. The first confession was read and it wasn’t from her and then Lady Ravanys said this next one comes from anonymous. It was a confession of a Diminion Mistress who was taken in by an owned boy and it was something about him that really struck her and though she would never act on it she wanted to Dom him. You couldn’t wipe the smile off my face! The local chat was flying with, tell, tell!!! I want to know! And who is it, who is it?? I knew it was me she was talking about from the conversations we had in private. I listened closely until Lady Ravanys was finished with Miss's confession. Nervously I IM’d back “interesting confession Miss, I wonder who was that about?” She replied, “I’m embarrassed now!!”. I was way beyond flattered and so surprised she would confess that in front of everyone even though anonymously.

Our IM’s were never more than a little flirtatious, but we spent a lot of time in IM getting to know each other more and more and I must admit I’m quite taken by her too. Her voice is so sexy and just drives me crazy! The way she carries herself and the confidence, dominance, and sexiness she has just attracts me more. But no matter how much the attraction and want to have her Dom me we can’t act on it and we both know it. I’m owned and care very deeply for my Mistress, but I love to see Miss at the Diminion as I hear her voice in conversation as she talks with others. She is a wonderful woman and her sub is very lucky to have her and I feel lucky to know her. “Looks over and smiles at the anonymous beautiful Miss.”