Eva's Haiku

Summer falls to sleep

Winter folds her snowy arms

Spring's kiss will melt her.

A Haiku by Axelle

A Haiku by Axelle Paramour

The Miss cracks her whip

Surging white hot molten heat

Hurt fleeting, endured

Tarq's Confessions

-- Haiku

Black snap, that whip crack;

Ripe cherry lips melting this

Sharp, electric smack.

-- To someone

Oh if I could just see you each day,

Reach out to kiss your feet as you lay.

I'd never be tired of the things that you say

And only be happy to while the time away -

Not caring too much if we talk or we play,

And both of us knowing you will do as you may.

-- Bound or not bound

Bound or not bound, I don't much mind,

As long as I'm lost in the blink of your eye.

Wound around your fingertip,

I'm shaking, and I wonder why.

In this world within a world,

Here, words are our way to get to each other.

Words that light us up out of darkness,

Some words familiar, others discovered.

Do you know what I want to hear you say?

But if I ask you to, the spell will fade away.

So bound or not bound, either is ok.

I'm tied up tight for you anyway.

Confessions by Lady Melina

Two Poems

Poem 1

Your sensuality overwhelms me

I've given up the raging fight

A gentle fugue now surrounds me

I care no more for what is right

I crave your danger constantly

My heart feels nothing while my body burns

I touch the fire without consequence

Not sure when my faith turned

Not a victim I carry on

I push with you to move ahead

The lines now fades will soon disappear

Our dirty secrets left unsaid

where this will lead is still unknown

My eyes are blind with no will to see

I desire the pit that is sure to come

And wish to lose the rest of me

Poem 2

Your eyes like peace pulling

Me down from the edge, holding me

Though troubled you saved my life

From a firey misery

a peace lives inside that is foreign to all of me

My emotions feel free to move at it's whim

Once held in a raging mind, savagely burning me

Free from a cycle of sin

A moment of clarity persisting through shadows

The shadows now lightening the blackness inside of me

A lie, it was never a part of me

A fable to frighten, mere clever trickery

A beautiful lie, tempting dark and enchanting

A small light grew large and forced out the dark

Oh beautiful angel - a sweet troubled child

Lost to himself, he saved my mind

Blue eyes so troubled not knowing his brilliance

a brilliance that he alone can find

Confession by Lady Sweet

My slave loves strap on play. It's not something I do very often, I'm much more of a sadist than anything, so when he mentioned that it had been a while I thought I'd set up a wonderful scene. I thought about it all week, making my plans on how things would go.

The day before the planned scene I let him in on it. I told him that we would play when I got home from work, told him to make sure he was showered and shaved and to clean himself out with a fleet enema kit under the sink. Gave him specific instructions on washing the dildo, laying out the harness and towels, rope, lube and condoms. I told him to be naked and cuffed and kneeling with his head down on the floor when I arrived home.

All the instructions were sent via email early before I left for work so that he would receive it as soon as he woke up that morning and could begin his preparations.

On the drive to the office I had an inspiration, I sent him a text message telling him that I was going to fuck his mouth too, told him to wash the special dildo (Share) that I use for that, and instructed him not to eat before I got home. I didn't discover until later that the text message was never received....

Fortunately the day went quickly for me, probably because I spent the most part of it daydreaming about this wonderful scene and how everything would happen. I arrived home to find my boy naked and on his knees just as I instructed (he greets me now every day in this fashion). I grabbed his hair and forced him to kiss my shoes then ordered him to take off my shoes and stockings. I grabbed him by the hair and made him crawl to the bedroom where everything was laid out as I had instructed.

The first thing I wanted to do was force my cock deep into his throat, I spread the towel on the floor and instructed him to kneel face down and wait for me. I pulled out my Share, inserted it easily because I was already wet in anticipation. I pulled him up by the hair looked into his eyes and told him to suck my cock, and to be sure to suck it like he loved it (which he does, lol). He began tentatively, wetting it with his tongue and then sucking it into his mouth. I wanted to see him gag so bad that I grabbed his head and ground my hips forcing my cute little baby pink cock deep into his throat. He came up sputtering and gasping for breath and just before he could catch it I forced it down his throat again. That's when he threw up. I'm so glad that the towel was under us and also glad that it didn't get on me, just my cock. I laughed at him and taking the cock out of myself told him to go to the bathroom and clean himself and the dildo up.

While he was doing that (and throwing up some more in the sink while brushing his teeth), I prepared the bed. I spread a towel on the bed, draping it down the side and onto the floor. I prepared my ropes, tying them to be bed posts. When he returned I forced him onto the bed face down and tied his arms spread eagle. I tied his ankle cuffs tightly to the bed posts, stretching him wide and holding him in position.

I slipped into my strap on, all the while telling him what a slut he is and how I'm going to rape his man pussy. I pulled his cock and balls down and wrapped a rope around them, binding them tightly, pointing to the floor so that I could squeeze them as I was taking his ass. I lubed up another of my big pink dildos and then spread his crack, making sure he was well lubed. Positioning my cock at his man pussy I began to slide it in slowly, he groaned, I called him a slut again and once fully engulfed began to slowly pump it in and out of his ass. His moaning became louder, his cock was hard and I was stroking it and squeezing, building the rthym, pumping him harder until suddenly he said, "Mistress, I have to poop" I laughed at him, told him to relax, that the feeling would pass and slowed down the hip action waiting for the urge to go away.

It went away alright, suddenly he said "Oh shit", I looked down and realized that it wasn't just a passing urge brought on by my vigorous use of his ass. I stepped back quickly, pulling out of him, he started exclaiming "I'm sorry, Mistress I'm sorry". It was hysterical and I couldn't help but crack up. I slipped out of the harness and dropped the poop covered dildo onto the towel. He told me that he still had to go and I told him he'd better hold it. I went into the bathroom and soaked a wash cloth and began to clean my thighs. Meanwhile he's still strapped face down on the bed, moaning and telling me he can't hold it anymore. Again I told him he'd better hold it. Just as I returned to the bed to untie him, his body took over and the shit slowly spilled out and ran downward, over his cock and balls and puddled on the towel on the floor. At that point the whole situation was just to hilarious and we both began to laugh uncontrollably. I finally got him untied, we bundled up the towel and he hit the shower. Oh, but not before I snapped a picture of him (to use later for humiliation purposes of course).

Needless to say my wonderfully planned out scene did not go as anticipated. I learned some valuable lessons that day. 1. Never use a fleet enema for anal play. 2. Make sure he's received all of the instructions, he never received the text and had eaten just before I arrived home. 3. The next time I receive an offer for a toilet slave, take it.... it just might come in handy. :)

A Confession

I'm sitting on the edge of her bed. Her eyes are closed, she's peacefully sleeping, her facial expressions tell me so. Every once in a while, her lips will curl up in a smile. She's getting older, 79 years and 40 of those years she has spent with me.

I remember well when we first met. She was 39, I was 25. I saw her across the street and I instantly knew we would spend the rest of our lives together. Maybe I was ignorant, but as it turned out, I was correct on this one. I walked up to her, asked her if she wanted to go for a drink and she accepted. We sat at our little table for hours and hours and with each hour passing my heart was beating faster for her. I fell in love, head over heels.

We never had children. We had each other and that was enough. There never were any other women for me. There never were any other men for her. Our love was perfect.

It still is perfect. As long as she keeps breathing. Three months ago, my whole world turned upside down. The day started like any other day, I woke up, got out of bed and made coffee for us both. When I brought it upstairs and whispered softly in her ear that she needed to wake up, she replied with, "Just one more minute, pop."

I laughed and shook her little, thinking she was way of in dreamland. Her dad was long gone, but it made me happy to see she still dreamt of him. She rubbed her eyes, sat up straigher in bed, looked me straight in the eye and whispered, "Pops, you know I don't drink coffee!"

To say I was flabbergasted, would be an understatement. She was definitely wide awake. I was confused and didn't know what to think of it, especially when she reached for the coffee and muttered a, "Thank you, my boy." I didn't think much else of it, perhaps she was just in a deep sleep and needed a little more time to wake up.

My thoughts on that changed over the week as she refered to me John at times. John was her brother and he passed away the year before. I took her to see a doctor. I was slightly embarassed, she acted childlike, wouldn't concentrate and eventually got all quiet and just sat there, suspicously looking around as if someone would sneak up to her and try to scare her.

The doctor did some tests on her. She was reluctant to work with him, kept asking me where we were, how we got here and kept repeating that we needed to go home because it was time for dinner. He gave her a simple reading text and she struggled over the simplest of words.

The doctor nodded his head towards the door and closed it softly, as not to disturb her. "It seems to be, your wife is suffering from Alzheimer. To be sure, I am sending her to a neurologist." I was unable to speak and just nodded my head. He offered his sympathies and we went back home.

The next weeks were filled with doctor appointments, seeing specialists, going from psychiatrists to neurologists and psychologists. Eventually they told me the first doctor was correct. She was suffering from alzheimer and they carefully prepared me for all that was about to come.

The thing is, no matter what someone might say to you. There is no one to prepare you for the loss of your lover. She didn't realize, there were hardly moments she was fully concious and the moments she was, I didn't want to ruin with awful conversations. She at times made a comment about feeling lost, how she couldn't remember things but blamed it on her age and laughed it off.

In a three month period her health went completely down the drain. She would sit in her chair motionless, her once so happy personality was completely gone and all there was left was the shadow of the woman she once used to be.

Her eyes slowly open and I smile. I wonder who I will be today. John, her dad, a stranger I never heard of, or perhaps just me. I know it won't be long until her eyes won't open anymore. She sleeps 20 hours a day and refuses to eat or drink the other four. She is utterly weak and I still love her so very much.

Her hands reaches out for me and with a voice that scares me she whispers, "I'm so proud of you, my boy. Promise me, you'll be good. You may be old, but you're still my brat." I try not to cry as she says her goodbye's. I lay down next to her and just hold her, tell her memories of our journey together as I listen to her breathing, the gaps between each breath lasting longer and longer, until finally there is no more next breath.

I feel calm and peacefully. I reach for the bottle on the nightstand and swallow every pill with the water that's left in the bottle. As my head touches the pillow again and my arms wrap around her slowly getting cold skin, I whispers, "Goodnight my Mistress. Don't you worry about a thing. I'll be good, because I will be with you. Wherever you go, I follow. I love you."

Journey In To Slavery Part 2 by Bozzer

John peered out into the gloom once more. He had tried to sleep, but had found it impossible. Either the cold woke him or the stiffness in his joints. He tried to work out what time it was, how long had he been there, cramped into this tiny space.

The light flickers into life, blinding John forcing him to cover his eyes protecting them from the burning light. He hears the click, click, click of shoes on the hard floor. Slowly John opens his eyes to see a pair of knee high black boots in front of him. Looking up he sees a woman dressed in a gray knee length skirt, white shirt and gray jacket. Her long blonde hair was tied neatly back into a flowing ponytail, with a peak cap resting on top. A single armband on her right arm with the word trainer written on it. The woman crouched down to the cage, “did we sleep well?” she asked with a gentle voice.

“What do you think,” he snapped back with a glare in his eye.

“now, now” she said softly, “we don’t want to get off to a bad start do we?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. Holding it in front of him she said,

“Now if I let you out are you going to be a good boy?” John looked at her face seeing a little smile on her lips and a glint in her eye. He knew she held all the cards and could very easily turn and leave him there. He needed to get out, needed to stretch and move his muscles.

“Yes,” he said sheepishly.

“Yes what?” she snapped, “It’s yes Mistress! This is not a very good start.” The sudden change in her voice shocked him and sent fear rushing through his body. With his heart racing he sputtered out,

“y-y-yes M-m-m-mistress.” She smiled liking the look of fear that came over his face. Leaning forward she slid the key into the padlock and turned it. The padlock fell open and she swiftly unhooked it and dropped it in her pocket. As she stood up she swung the door open.

“Out!” She barked, and before he realized it he crawled out of the cage. With muscles so stiff and wanting to stretch he started to climb to his feet. This only resulted in a boot in his back that sent him sprawling forward. He tried to break his fall with his hands but the chain pulled tight and his face impacted on the concrete floor.

“Did I say you could stand?” She growled, “Now get over here and greet me properly.” With new pain in his head and mind spinning he scurried over to her and kissed her boots.

“Good morning Mistress,” he said.

“Good that’s much better, there is hope for you yet,” her voice softened as she went on, “ok I am Mistress Anna and will be getting you ready for the end of the week. If you do well and work hard this will be an easy process for both of us But, if you make it hard... well let's just say don’t because it will hurt you much more than me.” A smile was creeping over her face as the words flowed from her lips.

“Right, lets get you cleaned up.” She leaned forward pulling a lead from her pocket and attached it to John’s wrists. She quickly stood and turned, with a sharp tug she walked for the steps. John followed scrambling to his feet desperately trying to keep up with this lady's pace. Not a word was said as he was dragged down the hallway. He managed to catch a glimpse of some other unfortunate man through a half open door. Like him he was naked but with a collar round his neck. He was kneeling, holding a tray with a glass balanced upon it. His head was lowered and the tray was lifted above him. John was quickly dragged past the door and on into another room. This was what looked like a bathroom, white tiles covered the walls and a hard stone floor beneath his feet. There was another door on the opposite wall to were he had come in, a thick heavy door with a hefty bolt at the top. In the corner of the room was a shower with a sink situated on the wall next to it. Opposite these was a toilet, Mistress Anna pushed John down onto the toilet making him sit.

“Now pee,” she ordered. John did as he was ordered a little surprised how easy it was as it had been the last thing on his mind only a few moments before.

“are we done?” John simply nodded and was dragged from his seated position. The shower had no screens around it and John was pushed under the shower head with great ease. A small yelp sprang from his lips as the cold water hit his back. Mistress Anna threw some soap at him and barked,

“You wash now.” Dutifully, John did as he was told and rubbed the soap over his body. He rinsed his body and the water was switched off. Next a towel was thrown at him.

“Dry yourself and put the towel in that basket.” She pointed to the plastic wash basket next to the door they had come in. Once dry, John was lead back out into the corridor and into another room. This was a much softer room, warm lighting and a fire crackling in the fireplace on the far wall. A desk was situated at one end just under a window. John was led to the desk and Mistress Anna walked round the other side. John looked out of the window for a moment this was the first time he had seen the outside since his capture. Even now he could only see the trees on the other side of the gravel drive and the clear blue sky. There was nothing to give away his location. His attention was then brought back to the desk with a sharp slap to his face. He looked at her, then at the desk, on the desk lay a piece of paper with a pen resting on it, a metal collar and a padlock.

“Read this and sign it,” She pointed to the paper. John read the paper it looked like a suicide note he then looked at the Mistress.

“Oh yes John is dead.” She said calmly, “So unless you want them to find John’s body you best do as we say. Don’t worry if you don’t sign it we will forge it and they will find your body.” He leaned forward nervously and signed the bottom of the page. She smiled and picked up the collar.

“Now as I said John is dead.” She turned the collar in her hands and showed it to him. “This is you now, number 53.” He looked at the metal collar in her hands and saw 53 stamped into the metal. Mistress Anna walked round the desk and stood before him. She opened the collar and slipped it round his neck. Leaning down she grabbed the padlock and snapped it shut locking the collar to him. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out the key to his cuffs and swiftly unlocking them, the cuffs fell to the floor,

“There we don’t need them any more, do we?” Another smile crossed her face. The Mistress then reached down beside the desk and pulled out a pair of black work boots. Pushing them into his chest she said, “you will need these for the next part of your training.” 53 dropped to the floor and quickly pulled on the boots, then scrambled to his feet again. This activity produced a warm smile across her face. Quickly she attached a leash to a ring on his collar and lead him back out into the hallway. Walking easier now that his feet are freed from the cuffs 53 could keep up with the Mistress. They walk through a door and out into a courtyard. The cold air hit his skin as he saw the high walls surround the almost empty yard. Against one wall is a large pile of paving slabs, The only decoration in the courtyard.

“You are to move those slabs from that wall to the opposite wall here,” She ordered him. “You have 30 minutes to complete this task. Not a second more not a second less, do you understand?” He nodded looking at the pile of slabs. She removed the leash, turned and left the courtyard. 53 started on his task carrying each heavy slab from one side to the other.

As the pile gets lower and lower on one side and larger and larger on the other, 53 get slower as he starts to tire from this chore. Finally the last slab is in place and he sat on the pile smiling at his work. Feeling much warmer he started to relax, just then the door flew open and Mistress Anna strode through it, cane in hand, and a face of pure anger.

“30 minutes I said!” She barked at him, “now as it’s your first attempt I will show some leniency. You will get 1 stroke for every minute you were over, I could have gone for every second but I don’t have that much time. So you will get 10 for each minute and 2 for disobeying me. You will count each stroke and thank Me for it, do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress,” he replied nervously.

“I doubt it as you said you understood the task but we will try. Bend over the slabs!” 53 quickly bent over the slabs and waited for the canning to start. As the first blow struck the pain shot through his body, his back arching and he sucked in a deep breath. He just about remembers to splutter out “1 thank you Mistress.” The second carefully aimed blow landed just below the first. The sharp shooting pain forced a cry to escape his lips and with his face screwed up in pain he forced the thank you out. Each stroke coming down with deadly accuracy leaving a clear red welt, were it had landed. Each time 53 screwed up his face and cried out before thanking the Mistress. After what seems like an eternity he reaches number 12 and the end. Collapsing on the slabs and breathing deeply the pain in his ass burning he heard her growl.

“Right now put these slabs back over there, and do it right this time!” As the Mistress leaves 53 gets straight to the job in hand, working through the pain in his ass and in his tired muscles. Finally finishing the last slab, exhausted he collapsed on the floor. The door swung open and cold water hit his tired and aching body. Looking up he sees Mistress Anna standing over him holding a bucket.

“Good,” She says happily, “see I knew you could do it, and now you can eat.” Bending down she reattached the leash to his collar and drug him to his feet. She lead him out of the courtyard, back down the hall and into another room. This is quite a small plain room with a table and 4 chairs in the middle. 3 men were already sitting at the table in silence eating. 53 saw a plate and cup in front of the remaining empty chair. On the plate was what looked like then end of a loaf of bread about 4 inches thick, and water in the cup. He was lead to the chair,

“Sit, eat and don’t talk,” she told him. “Unless you want a repeat of this morning's punishment.” The Mistress turned and left 53 with his new comrades, he looked at the plate and wondered if this nightmare would ever end.