The Perfect Sub by Lisa

If I had a magic lamp,
The first thing I would try.,
Is wish to be the perfect sub,
To please and satisfy.

I would use the second wish
To let me read Her mind
.So I could use Her thoughts to serve,
Her needs ahead of time.

My lamp is filled with wishes
So I might as well continue
A wish to know just how She feels.
What She needs for me to do.

I'll use my next wish carefully.
Giving it some thought.
I wish that I was super strong
To carry Her where She wants.

A wish for all the knowledge
My brain could possibly keep.
I'd have the answer to every question.
Before Miss would even speak.

Of course a wish for riches.
A gift for everyday.
Some are small but what she wants
She likes things done that way

I think a wish for TPE
May be just what I need.
A sub that is too perfect,
Could be a handful indeed.

One last wish that I will want
Would be made just for my Mistress
The power to take all wishes away.
And let me be just a submissive.

Lisa  11/26/14

The Barn, A Story Of Service by Anonymous

As the sun sets behind the trees, the flickers of amber light and shadows danced on her soft face. We had turned down the country road almost 30 minutes ago and I had not seen a single house. I kept driving; Mistress had not given any new directions. Christmas music played on the radio and the car thermometer read 45 degrees.

“It’s going to be a cold night Mistress” I said. She looked at me with only a smile such a wicked Domme could pull off “Not so cold my girl, not so cold.”

A few more miles passed and she pointed to a gate coming up on my right. I pulled in, she hopped out and, to my surprise, pulled a key from her jeans pocket. The chain and lock appeared ancient. The lock was covered in rust, but easily opened. A few minutes later we arrive at the house.

“Mistress where are we?”

“My vacation home. I thought we could spend the weekend here, my pet. Now get the bags and come along.”

Mistress told me that the house was built in 1894 by her great-great-grandfather and that she had bought out the rest of the family's interest in the property a few years ago. That night we just relaxed. I served her dinner in the living room beside a nice fire and then we went off to bed.

 ...

“Rise and shine pet! You have a busy day of slave labor out in the barn!”

I got up and started to get dressed when Mistress stopped me. “Just your boots, girl.”

 I protested. “Mistress, it must be freezing outside.”

“My pet, the barn is heated.” She grinned and marched me, naked, from the house out to the massive stone barn. She opened the door and flicked on the lights. She laughed. “See? The barn is well renovated and modern.”

It was.  It had polished concrete floors and the old stalls had been completely refinished.  It was... well... a BDSM paradise with every toy, whip, crop, and restraint one could think of right before my eyes. I began to grin and to get excited by all the possibilities. My mind dreamed of what my Mistress might have in mind for me in such a wonderland.

“Alright.  It has been a few months since my last time up here, so today you are on cleaning and conditioning duty. You will find all the leather care supplies you need in the closet over there and -- just to make it interesting....” She giggled as she locked a tiny dog shock-collar to my leg, just above my boot. “There! That will keep you in the barn. I have an invisible fence perimeter around the entire barn. And now, as you can see, I have a few hundred toys and they all need attention. You have 24 hours. The bathroom is over there.  A pet bed and blanket are over there, if you get tired.  And don’t worry; I’ll bring you food at the appropriate times, Pet. Now chop-chop!”

And with that she walked back up to the house, leaving me confined in the barn for the next 24 hours with my chores. I melted!  (She knows me so well). I joyously set to work, serving my Mistress, lovingly conditioning the leathers, cleaning the toys, and making sure her country hideaway would be put into proper condition.

How Is Barb Doing by Doc

“So how is Barb?” I asked.

“She’s doing fine I think.  Aren't you going to ask how I’m doing, Billie?”

I gulped.  I was over Barb, and often wondered if I’d ever really been into her.  As for Erica I was slightly attracted to her, but after my last roller-coaster adventure with Bard, I only wanted rest.  How could I make Erica feel appreciated without charging off into something premature?

“Uh, sorry about that Erica.  How *are* you doing.”  I knew this was late and might elicit a grumpy response.  I got worse.  Total silence.  Finally I took the hint.

“I guess it’s obvious Barb and I are over and done romantically, right?  I mean, we’re friends and all, but that’s more to do with loyalty and support than with feelings.  Do you understand?”  My fingers were crossed.

“Well, she’s screwed up, but I guess I can see why you ask about her.”  She paused.  “I’m NOT fine, Billie, since you asked.”

Now it was my turn to stay quiet.  Eventually she resumed.

“In case you hadn't noticed, you dumb-ass, I have feelings for you…. Which proves I’m an idiot, obviously, since you have nothing but a lump of iron for a heart.”

“Oh!”  I mean, what was I going to say!?  I knew I was very romantic, not to mention sexual, but I needed a rest.  I wanted some solitude.  I wasn't ready (yet) to be a slut for another demanding woman.  I just wasn't.
“Oh, and Billie, you should know that Barb thinks you are a jerk.  I just figured you should know!”

I knew I should say something, but – though I doubt Erica knew it – I’d known how Barb felt in what I referred to as “The Last Days”.   They were not fun.  Worse than her taunts had been the knowledge that she wasn't getting any satisfaction from venting at me.  She was just fueling her own unhappiness.  I knew she would be better off without me.  I simply waited for her to storm off in a huff.  It took longer than I thought it would.  Still – I bore her no animus.  I don’t hold grudges very well.  I guess I see people (including old girlfriends) as simply bundles of contradictions, joys, hatreds, and so on.  I don’t see the point in getting emotional over facts.  They are.  People are.  It’s all ‘out there’.  It’s not my world to judge.  It’s just the strange place in which I pass time.

“So, don’t you have anything to say?” It was Erica, barging into my reveries and meditations.  I actually appreciated her interruption.  I get very wound up in my own thoughts and a good jolt from outside keeps me ‘connected’.

“Sorry, Erica.  I was thinking.”

“Fuck you and your thinking, Billie.  You need to wake up.”  I listened, wondering if she meant I should pay attention to her.  Probably.  She continued.

“Did you get laid a lot with Barb?  Huh?  Did you?”

I didn't dare answer that!  First it would have been very disloyal without Barb’s permission.  Second, how could I tell Erica that Barb was totally into tease-and-denial (with me being denied and her doing all the teasing).

“Uh, well…. Uh…..”  My voice trailed off.  I looked at Erica’s face and saw a strange look come over it.  A very, very strange look!

“Billie, in case you hadn't noticed – and apparently you have NOT noticed – I have some ‘interest’ in you.” She paused.  “Shall I be more explicit?”

I definitely knew I could use some clarity.  Figuring out vague allusions and reading between the lines were not only exhausting, but I often drew the wrong conclusions.  Guessing.  Not my forte!
 
I simply said, “Please!”

“I want you, fucked up as you are, Billie.  I want your obedience.  I want your affection.  I want your loyalty.  I want sex with you.  I want to hurt you when I feel like hurting you, and kissing you when I feel like kissing you.  I want control.  I want power.  I want you to cater to me.  I want it all, Billie.”

She had laid her cards on the table.  It was exhilarating.  Honesty always did that to me.  I looked at her breasts.  I knew she saw me staring.  My eyes dropped to her crotch.  She saw me doing that too.
“Would you like to be my slave, Billie?  Just as you were Barb’s slave?”

I knew I wasn't quite a slave nor had I ever been.  My mind bent to no person.  Well, not exactly.  My body bent to any aggressive woman’s sexuality; that part of my mind connected to my sexuality usually followed.  It was just that I observed that part of me from a distant place with the rest of my mind.

I nodded in response to Erica’s question. “Uh, I think so.”  I could already visualize Erica filling Barb’s boots.  Literally.  Barb had worn boots as she teased me.  She claimed to enjoy ‘messing with my mind’ and used to say, ‘I want you to get a hard-on every time you see a woman in boots.  I want you to think of me.’  She’d obviously succeeded.  I was hard.

“What are you thinking, Billie?”

“I was just thinking of you naked and in boots, Miss.”

“Good!  Now you have a question pending and you haven’t given me an answer, Billie…..”  I answered honestly, though obliquely.

“I would very much like to be physical with you, Erica.  And to get to know you in ways we haven’t yet…. But I have a request, Miss.”

“Yes?”

“Can we wait until the first of the year?  I’m still in recovery from my ‘adventures’ with Barb.  I am not ready.”

She grinned.  “Of course, Billie!  I can wait!  But I have a condition.”  I wondered what her condition might be. “No sex of any kind until you are ready for me – and then you do anything I tell you to do!  Agreed?”

I nodded.

“Oh, Billie, did I ever mention that Barb used to call you ‘my slut’ when we talked about you?”

I shook my head. “No, Miss.”

“Well, just in case you wondered, she told me all kinds of things about you.  In detail.  And I’ve been waiting a long time to take her place.  What do you think of that?”

I didn't know what to say to that at first, but then said, “I think you and she are very good friends.”

It was her turn to nod.

Delicious Darkness by Anonymous

Her eyes being eaten by the advancing front of darkness was the last thing I saw.
Embraced by the black of not-knowing.
The long, still, almost silent pause before the oncoming storm of desire.
My eyes dart about the expanse of nothing looking for any kind of hint about what comes next.
All I can see is the shadow of her eyes.
They're burnt into the fabric of my mind.

Hand on throat, I am greeted by forceful direction.
A loud thud as my back greets the wooden table, forcing a grunt from within my bowels.
Cringing and clenching my jaw to refrain from further noise.
I feel vulnerable.
Bent over backwards, on tiptoes for balance.
Her hand leaves my throat and takes my wrists to slam them against the wooden surface, high above my head.
A wordless command to keep them there is whispered through my flesh.
I obey.

My lips meet the faintest touch of warm flesh.
Kissing instinctively at whatever I am presented.
A foot?
No, palm and fingers pressed to my mouth.
Two curling, invading, forcing their way into my maw and taking over.
I suckle them, and curl my tongue over and between their forms.
I can feel her explore, and push the limits of what I can swallow, deforming my lips against her advancing palm.
Convulsions convince her she's deep enough.
With a few heaves of my chest as I restrain a gag she draws back.

I get a wet-handed slap to my cheek.
Hissed breath through sharply closed teeth.
Reddening skin spattered with saliva shows off her handiwork.
Her affection.
Hair tugged to put me back in the proper position.
Again I am presented something.
Soft and delicate.
So warm it tingles.
Lips pursed to kiss reverently.

The wider, warmer expanse of skin holds steady against my face.
I am to explore it.
Arm perhaps.
No, wider, as if stomach or breast.
No, a sweet scent catches my attention.
Thigh.
Soft inner thigh resting just above my face.
I strain to reach farther.
Kiss along it.
Scratching my back against the wood, clawing fingernails into the surface for traction.

Her hand finds my hair again, fingers gripping that leash.
Holding me still.
I feel her leg grind across my cheek and motionless lips.
The creak of joints taking the strain of her weight combined with my own.
Cool air parts us for a mere moment before...

She drops herself upon me.
Soft fabric forms to the contours of my face.
I can not breathe.
The sensation her lips mashed to me beneath the thin covering.
My mouth parts wider.
I kiss against her, mouthing with my jaw.
Hungry and impatient.
Teeth lightly trace the moistening barrier between us.
I can't help but growl and whimper, denied such contact by a thing so small.
Her hips roll, and grind herself against me.

My chest begins to heave and tense as my need for air becomes noticeable.
Her captive grip holds so tight I bare not even flex my back in need.
My nails draw lines in the wood grain.
Eyes water in the void.
My body, starving.
She raises herself but for a moment, and I take a breath.

As soon as my lungs are full with the cooling kiss of oxygen, she slams herself back down.
Bare moist flesh meets my open and willing maw.
Finally I have permission.
Finally, my tongue can greet my lady.

Thankful Note by Miss Lauren

OK.... a little note I'm submitting that my boy Dar gave to me on Thanksgiving.  Thanks,  Lauren
---------------

It's turkey time in America, we're preparing festive meals,
Yet in this time my mind soon turns to strappies, gags, and heels.

I dream of food and friends, oh yes, and a restful post-meal nap,
But more than that I long to be stretched out across Her lap.

A helpless whelp, with rising welts, face trapped between her thighs,
While Thanksgiving feasters stuff their face with candied yams, and pies.

Grandma stayed up late last night, baking things with which to treat me,
And Mistress stayed up plotting different ways in which to beat me.

We all take pause to count up blessings, of family and friends we've met,
The one that I adore the most, I'm thankful I'm her pet.

Thankful and Grateful by Patrick

        So you all want to know what i am thankful and grateful for.  Well, let me see.... First one is pretty easy.  It is my life.  There are a few things I might like to change but overall not to bad of one I must say.  How many people do you know get to live their dream?

     Second would be my family.  We have had our ups and downs but I know that they are there for me whenever I need them -- and the best thing about being raised by five sisters (and me being the only boy) was no hand-me-downs.  So I think that is one is for the grateful column,

       Third would be my Mistress Nej Xue.  Words cannot express the thankfulness and gratefulness I have toward her.  She allows me to be me, which in turn helps me thrive as a submissive . Sure she can be mean sometimes and say "No nukes", but if that the price that I have to pay to wear her collar well then I think I am making out pretty good there. So I guess you can put this one also in both columns: thankful and grateful.

     Next would have to be The Dominion.  Without this place I would never have been able to learn what I have learned and to have met some awesome people along the way, experiencing things I might not otherwise have been able to . But most of all The Dominion is a place I call my home-away-from-home.

   Last, but not least, is the Pittsburgh Steelers.  They have given me much joy over the years (along with a lot of heartache too). But that is half the fun.  The other half is watching games with friends and having a good time, with some good-natured ribbing . Reason for this is 'cause I root for my Steelers in Browns town -- which is Cleveland . After all, how boring it would be if everyone rooted for the same team.

    Well, I do hope that everyone noticed I did put Mistress Nej and The Dominion higher on my list then the Steelers!
   
    These are the things I am thankful  and grateful for -- so what are  yours?

Thanks Giving Confession by Lady Lobbie

It warms me up
Makes me smile
Is best when he’s on his knees
The feeling last more than a while

Size defiantly matters
The bigger the better
Long and slow to enjoy
And it makes me so much wetter

Good at any time of day
And any where
Better strong than weak
And I am not going to share

Ah don’t you just love
A wonderful mug of tea
Served of course
By a boy on his knees

This is what I’m thankful for

---from  Lady Lobbie