Secret Submission By Anonymous

I have a confession -- I've not told anyone this confession -- not even my own journal for fear it will be found. I am in love. I'm in love with HIM! Him who tore my heart out years ago and yet still makes my belly flutter, my knees weak, and my cunnie flood hearing his voice.

He was always VERY dominant and I listened to him -- that was before -- before I started explaining FemDom to him. To my surprise, he was happy to give up control. Happy to bend at my will like a small sapling in the wind -- I don't try to bend him too much -- I don't want him to shatter like glass.

Slowly, I've been training him without him even realizing it. Little things at first. He always calls me Miss now. He thinks it's cute and a quirk. I know it's respect.

When he says, "I'll call at 8pm -- he calls." If he doesn't call I won't speak to him for days. I won't let him cum -- and yet he doesn't even realize I control that -- yet. He's slow to realize that my voice, my wants, have become his now. The girl he broke years ago has now been slowing bending him to her will. He may be a foot taller. He may be 100 pounds heavier. He may be Lord and Master of his own realm -- but with me his is 100% MINE.

No others know of his secret submission. They don't know he likes to have than tan ass spanked or tells me his fantasies about having anal beads shoved up there or a butt blug -- a butt plug he has to wear FOR ME! He doesn't even know he's being trained. It's strange for I want to tell him. But, he won't believe it. He won't realize that I am his Mistress. He does what I say. He wears what I like. His cologne is because it is MY favorite.

I wonder when he will realize that he is mine. I wonder if he will ever realize what I've done to him slowly in increments so small that he himself doesn't even realize who holds the power now. When he kneels before me he thinks it's a game. Though, I am starting to wonder if he really is that thick. He is intelligent. He is very cultured. I think he just hasn't admitted yet to himself that he is mine.

He calls that magnificent cock of his MINE now. It is mine. I control when he touches it, how he touches it, and when he will spurt that warm cum for me. I control those moans, those groans, and even his urges.

He is mine. I love him. Does he know it? Only time will tell.

Regret By Anonymous

Regret.

All the words I've heard used to describe regret are wrong. It’s a sound… a pull… it’s a taste that I can never swallow down. That is what regret is.

You once laughed at my stupid, fallible, submissive ways. I watched myself transform in Your hands, more amazed by the transformation than You were. You punished me. You spoke quietly to me when I had disappointed You and I cried, and again I was amazed at how much I stretched and twisted and pushed myself from the inside out, just to transform for You, under Your gaze. I was a living, writhing, soul.

I'm a ghost now, haunting my past, and haunted by it. I pace my memories, but I can’t stay there long. So I look to the future which stretches before me, abstract and remote. I try to turn my face from the hopes I carefully tended, now run wild into a jungle of fantastical, lurid, chaotic confusion, beyond my reach and beyond my strength to cut down. I turn my eyes instead to the blank horizon.

My love, my indecision, my desire, my fear, my stupidity, my cowardice … they were all fragments that brought me here, to this place. But how do I return? What should I leave behind? What pillar of fire can I follow to escape these ruins of shadowy memories and hopes beyond my strength to contain? Or do I stop pacing at the edges of what I knew. Do I let go and let the wilderness swallow me. Perhaps I will reemerge somewhere else? What will I be, then? Who will I be?

Will I still hear that sound, feel that pull, have that taste of regret bitter in my mouth?

Yes, I know I will. So I don’t walk away. I can’t. I may be a ghost but I still want just as fiercely as I always did. I want to feel Your warmth, Your possession, Your grasp. It hurts. I want to again stretch and twist and writhe to transform for You, warm, alive and owned.

You owned me completely. There's so much more that we could have shared; that we should have shared.

So I wait, and want, and taste regret.

My Deep Dark Fantasy By Anonymous

I confess a secret. Actually, I confess a deep dark desire, call it a fantasy even. In my fantasy it isn't about me, it isn't about my pleasure. It is about her, as it should be. It's about my fingertips softly caressing her skin.

It's about the soft husky voice whispering in my ear, encouraging me to go on when doubt settles in. It's about her gripping my hair and pulling me closer, brushing the tip of her thumb over my lips, before beckoning me over with her eyes.

Her eyes .. you could drown in those crystal clear eyes. They are more gorgeous than the bluest of oceans. It's about her mouth soft and inviting, as my lips quiver.

It's about her being in total control as our tongues touch and explore each other's mouth. It's about wanting to go slow, savoring every moment, every touch, but at the same time, it's about lust, desire, wanting to move on, exploring each bit of skin with my hands, followed by my mouth.

It's about hearing those soft approving moans coming from her mouth. It's about the way she giggles when I whisper in her ear that she might very well be the first non redhead that sets me on fire.

It's about listening to her body, to see what kind of effect my actions have. It's about watching her, opening herself to me, but staying in complete control.

It's about kissing her fingertips and playfully sucking on her fingers before bringing her hand between my legs, where it's warm .. and wet. It's about hearing her gasp when I slide my finger between her wet folds and the desire that burns deep within me to find out wether she tastes as delicious as she smells.

It's about teasing her endlessly, before sliding my finger inside her and bringing my mouth closer. It's about pleasuring her, hitting the right spot, keeping the rhythm she needs .. for me to give her .. what she wants. What I in my deepest fantasy want to hear, feel, experience .. It's about her climaxing, moaning, growling, and all those other sounds that come with that sensation.

It's a fantasy. It's a desire. But most of all, it's about her. As it should be.

From SL To RL by Omega Althouse

I know Confessions is full of sexy stories.. this one is low on the erotica but it's my hope you might find it a little inspiring nonetheless.

At Zarita's urging I wanted to talk about my boy and I. You see, we met here on Second Life, and now we live together. We've shared a house and our lives for two years and we're expecting a baby together.

So how did we get there?

Well, it wasn't even in a femdom sim where we met. I used to help run one of the largest RP sims in SL, a place called Toxia. Amongst my duties there was running one of the player factions. My character was a vampire. She was always polite and reserved but it was clear that was a very thin veneer to shield a very dark and predatory being indeed.

Grr-Brool was a coyote shape changer, a Lycan. Even though the sim mythology had vampires and lycans at war with one another, he and I both felt drawn to one another. Our friendship built slowly, our romance even more slowly. As the faction leader there were no shortage of boys (and girls) keen to curry favour any way they could, and it wasn't always easy to tell the self-serving empty flattery of keen social climbers from sincerity.

Grr-Brool was different. He caught my attention not with flattery or fawning, but by working hard in the faction and always being at hand to assist me. It seemed as though whenever I needed something, there he was, at my elbow, cheerfully and eagerly offering. What's more he proved himself a competent and capable 2IC, I learned that I could trust him to not only follow my instructions but anticipate them. He earned my trust, slowly but surely. It was also clear that serving me, and making me happy gave him a deep satisfaction.

Of course while the "in character" (IC) things were going on, we were also getting to know each other "out of character" (OOC). We learned that a lot of the elements in each other's characters that attracted us were not an act, but drawn from our RL personalities. We found we had a lot in common... we moved in the same circles (albeit in different cities). There was a wide swathe of commonality between us. We were both poly, goth, with common pursuits and passions.. it was an auspicious start.

Of course, there were barriers as well. I lived in Brisbane, he lived in Melbourne. We both had carreers, committments, friends and family that tied us to where we were. He was in the midst of a very messy marriage breakdown, I was struggling as a single mum with two jobs.. at times it seemed as though the impediments to us being together "for real" were insurmountable.

In hindsight, I beleive these barriers have actually contributed very positively to our relationship now. "Easy come, Easy go" was never going to be our motto. The endless hours we spent on Skype and in IM windows meant we discussed a very wide variety of subjects, exploring each other's preferences... everything from how we wanted to raise our children to whether anchovies on a pizza are a delight or an abomination... it was, and still is, a source of wonder and joy to both of us that we are both similar and delighfully opposite-but-complementary in equal measure.

After over a year of interacting together in SL, the fates aligned to allow us to meet face-to-face for the first time. A conference bought him to Brisbane. To say we nervously anticipated the meeting was an understatement. Would the bond we both felt translate into "real life?"

As I waited for his plane to arrive, I found it difficult to keep my composure - so many emotions. Hope, fear, anticipation..

Finally he appeared. As our eyes locked we both knew - this was real. The connection was there. The mutual attraction was strong. He strode over through the crowd of other disembarking passengers and got down on one knee immediately. For a moment I thought he'd actually stumbled.. and perhaps it looked that way to the crowd around us, but neither of us were paying any attention to them.

I put my hand on his elbow and bade him to get up. At well over six feet tall, he towers over my five-foot-four.. I've still got no idea how he manages to look "UP" at me from that vantage, but he does. I took his hand, and put my arm around him and we walked through the airport. Already our feet were in step, it was effortless, as though we had been walking together all of our lives.

During that first sweet visit we had ample opportunity to explore our other mutual interests.. we both walked away from that encounter knowing we were meant to be together.

Making that happen hasn't been easy for either of us, but we both agree, it has been worth the effort.

A Love Story...D Style By Anonymous

Love, lust, bliss, betrayal, revenge

The tale of Z and V and Pammy E

The Triangle!

This is a tale of two clitty’s….well….three clittys actually.

It all started with a blissful meeting in the courtyard.

Two souls with but one desire…..domination.

It was a marriage made in….desperation and madness.

The merging of Pammy and Zarita was fore ordained.

It might even have been five ordained down under.

They looked into each others eyes….and

When they stopped laughing

Said each to the other…..lets do it

Those of us sitting around the courtyard all moved away

When either of these two says lets do it…wise women step back

But….in this case…it was a case of nuptial insanity

One can only suppose that Pammy had finally been driven over the edge by Billy

As for Zarita….well she’s an Aussie....so who knows what thoughts run rampant there

But the upshot is...they had decided to tie the knot...and it turned out…they both had rope

After some negotiation on who would be the bride and who the groom

It seems they both wanted to be the groom

They shanghaied Lady Gabrielle to do the honors and sanctify their bliss

I’ve heard it was a lovely ceremony, lots of laughter, lots of tears

Sort of like Jade edging that noob in voice…but I digress

The deed was done and with much rice throwing and waving…

The honeymoon was set to commence….best two out of three falls I believe.

The rest of the courtyard crowd breathed a sigh of relief as the happy couple

Attempted to carry each other over a threshold, resulting in much torn lace I fear.

We skip forward in our tale now….to Sweet Seductions Dance Hall and Nooky Emporium.

Here we find Pamala DJing her hot little tush off as usual…wearing virginal white

Off in the corner, we see Lady Veronica in a scanty black top and almost there bottom

I believe Veronica could be seen momentarily twirling her luxurious black hair

Just above her lip…like Simon Legree stroking his mustache while sizing up his latest train track victim

I’m sure Pammy was distracted by all the usual chatter and sexual innuendo

Much of it from her own gestures and DJ track…but still

No one knows what exactly possessed her to let the nefarious Veronica

Grab the collar around her neck, leash her and bend her to her libidinous will

Well…I suppose we all have a few ideas of what might have been going thru her mind

This is Pammy we’re talking about after all

But….even so….Veronica of all people…I mean…it is no coincidence the Veronica and Vamp both start with V

Veronica in High School was named the "girl most likely to"…..just that…"girl most likely to"…

No one thought to be more specific….it seemed obvious to everyone at the time

And here was poor Pam, kneeling at the end of her chrome steel leash

It was a shocking sight…Pam abject and kneeling...blind folded…ball gagged….......and still talking

Veronica barely able to stand from hysterical laughing…occasionally passing out on the floor

I suppose it was the stress of the situation that made Pammy forget that her collar would automatically notify her true love when someone else claimed her affections

But…it happened....and

The notice went out to Zarita of Pammy's infidelity…I believe the air pressure dropped in the whole D sim as

Everyone sucked in a quick breath…just in case it was our last.

The air vibrated, leaves fell from the courtyards pixel trees as Zarita spoke those immortal words

“You Bitch!”

This of course excited Veronica even more and she immediately insisted on TPing to the courtyard.

(cue the Good, Bad and the Slutty background music)

As Pammy and Veronica rezed in the courtyard…Pammy at leash end kneeling

There was a stunned silence, .....a couple of nervous chuckles .....and one loud guffaw

(and I’m not going to apologize for that again, I couldn’t help it…OK!)

The courtyard habitués slipped silently to each side, just out of likely bullet trajectory

The air between the parties sizzled…though that could have just been someone’s microphone line open and making static

Many of those there waited with trepidation, some even waited with tense expectation…but most of us just sat back with a snack and a brew with our feet up eagerly anticipating some spectacular fireworks

Myself…I hit the TP button and hid in another sim for a while til the flames had died down…so I can’t tell you exactly how it was resolved.

I can say that I came back later and found that Pammy was now on Zarita’s leash

So I can only surmise that cooler heads prevailed when all parties realized that Pammy was really just playing the two of them off in the hopes of getting all the wedding presents for herself.

However it happened, Zarita had forgiven Pammy for being the slut she pretended to be and had taken her back under her generous care and protection…though she still kept a tight grip on her end of the leash.

Veronica I noticed was on the other side of the courtyard already beguiling some poor fool subby into thinking she’d be his kinky salvation.

So…things settled back to normal for the courtyard…and all the perverted flora and fauna calmly awaits the next outbreak of Dominion madness.

Authors note: This story is fiction, I did not actually witness any of the events depicted…so it had to be fiction since I also didn’t bother to interview any of the participants. The names however have not been changed to protect the innocent…since I happen to know that none of the characters in the story are innocents. In fact, now that I think about it, the only one that may need protection is your humble author.

Signed…..Anonymous

The Boy of My Dreams by Destiny Teardrop

I awoke suddenly and grabbed the alarm clock, my bleary eyes just about making out the time…..7.32am! Argh, I’ve over-slept. I leapt up and made a start for the bathroom, then suddenly it dawned on me, it was Saturday! With a groan I stumbled back to bed and pulled the duvet up around my shoulders. I closed my eyes, hoping to drift back to sleep but instantly, there he was again….the boy of my dreams.

I thought he’d gone, that the dream would fade as most dreams do, but no, as soon as I closed my eyes he was there, on his knees, smiling softly up at me, as if he had waited for me, dutifully, obediently.

Let me try to describe him to you. It’s difficult, because he’s a dream you see, he doesn’t really exist. You wouldn’t look twice at him in the street, he’s a pretty average looking guy. Average to the every day person, but oh so amazingly, exceptionally special, this boy of my dreams. He’s clean-shaven today, but sometimes I like him a little rough, with some stubble. He’s quite a manly boy. A man’s man.

My boy is intelligent and caring. He thinks of others and their needs . He has a kind heart. He is not callous, or harsh, but he isn’t weak either . He has a strong character and a delicious laugh. He doesn’t lie. He’s a man of principles.

This boy is very, very funny. He makes me laugh, a lot. He writes me poetry and sings me songs (even though his voice is really bad) and, most importantly, he worships me. He truly, really worships me. In the Spring, he brings me daffodils with my morning tea. He makes my crumpets just as I like them. He understands that I love ducks and that I often walk to the river to feed them and to talk to them. In fact, he loves that I love ducks. He loves that I am confusing and unpredictable. He loves that I can be the most loving Domme he’s ever met, but sometimes the most harsh. He adores the fact that my words can cut him in two, yet every time I do, it only cleaves him closer to me.

When we are out in public, he walks proudly beside me. My boy is a gentleman. He protects and cares for me. He is proud to be seen with me and I am proud to be with him. He discreetly does as he’s told in public. Often he pre-empts my needs and shows his devotion in subtle ways.

He is my rock.

My boy wears my collar with such great pride. He smiles and sighs with happiness, often. He sits quietly at my feet when I doze and massages my weary, aching toes after a long day at work.

He gives up all control to me. He loves that I give him routines and rituals. He wants to give more, always more and I want to take. The more I take, the more he gives. His submission is endless.

This boy embraces all that I am and all that I will be. He supports me in all my endeavours. He is loyal and faithful and he never takes me for granted. He knows how lucky he is.

My boy is romantic and loves that I am too. He never, ever forgets that he is my slave and knows that even when we dance and hug and cuddle together, he is my property, always.

My boy is fiercely submissive. He’s scared of disappointing me. He trusts me. He opens himself up to me and lets me push him, further, deeper into his submission, to places he never knew existed. He tells me that I am his One; that he has waited all his life to give himself to me. He is full of endless passion and desire. He cries hot tears of frustration and despair for me and he yearns, always, to be at my feet.

He surrenders his mind, his body and his soul to me.

I smile softly to myself and sigh as I fall more deeply, blissfully, into sleep. Sometimes I wish I didn’t wake up. For here, in my sleep, I am content, fulfilled, happier than I have ever been. For only in my dreams does my boy exist.

Vacation By Anonymous

When you hear the word vacation or holiday the mind often turns to beaches or camping. You may think of visiting a foreign country or even the family. The idea of relaxing and forgetting about everything sounds so appealing. But to some a vacation is an escape. The type of escape they get to explore more deeply who they are. For the past couple of day I have done just that. I enjoyed a week exploring.

You may think this is a confession of saucy whispers and naughty tells. It is not that at all. Not really sure it is a confession. It is really a thank you.

It is a thank You to the beautiful Miss who has the keys to my collar and much more. The week was not in the least what was planned, but she did her best with the circumstances. She logged on at 3am in the morning to be there to support me as I shared everything before the crowd. Told me to “breath” in IM when I was choking up. That was a very intimate moment i shared with her. She reads me extremely well. Scary to be honest *giggles. She has one of the most beautiful souls and I know deep down she has my best interest safely within her heart.

It’s a thank You to those who played along with silly votes on fetlife. You didn’t have to take the time to play along, but you did, and my hopes are you all enjoyed. It’s thanks to those who encouraged me all week to embrace the opportunity to explore. The same ones that did not laugh when I shared the playful stories of being in the grocery store and trying to straighten my bra strap so no one noticed. It is a thank You to all the ones that IM just to type “hug”. And a big thanks to the gang that considers me one of them…..Honest we are all innocent. It is a huge thank to a Miss who in the background always keeps me focused with kind words and playful correction with my Miss’s approval.

So no saucy details as most were shared at various times in the week and honestly it is kind of fun to keep a few secrets. The final Thank You is to my second family, the Dominion. To you I type “Hugs”.

Signed, anonymous