RLF: Socking It To The Harper Valley PTA Geraldine By Zarita Shan

I want to tell you about a funeral.. but first I want to tell you about a life.

I first met Geraldine in person at a Board Meeting for a Women's Organisation i was involved with. She came in like a whirlwind and swept everyone off their feet with her incredibly forthright manner, wicked sense of humour and incredible passion for justice. She was at the time the founder for a sole mother's political group that was lobbying for better conditions and government support to mum's in high need. When Geraldine was around NOTHING was dull. We hit it off straight away and became fast friends and compatriots in stirring up the system and had many latenight rendevues. She quickly became a hero of mine and we spent many hours at the pub, smoking, drinking and solving all the world's problems.

She was a fighter.. all her life she'd fought. Coming out of an incredibly rough violent child hood and working on the streets as a sex worker as teenager to support herself, drug addiction, pimps, kids , then put herself through school and university. Living in a cramped flat with 3 kids to support on her own. She would stay up far into the night after the kids had gone to bed to complete here essays and finally got her degree.

As if raising 3 kids, working and going to university wasn't enough she also wanted to change the world. She had many interests including rights of our indigenous people, sole parents, and better rights for workers. She got herself very involved with Unions here and became a leader in the toughest of Unions here.. the CFMEU.. The Construction Metalworkers and Electrial Union. She was the only woman and these blokes were TOUGH as a brick shithouse (as we say so elegantly in Aussieland). Whilst they did some great work for workers rights, there was also a lot of corruption in the Union and GAylene literally went through them like a pack of salts. She stood up for what she believed in and fought for it hard. Those toughassed Union officials were scared shitless of her.. and she won their respect and trust and made many great changes in the organisation.

I recieved a phone call from a friend telling me Geraldine was in hospital. I hadn't heard from her in a little while as both our lives had taken on new heights of buzziness. I immediately though oh she's probably got some kind of bug... then they told me she had Cancer. I was like you have to be kidding?? She was fighting fit and strong last time I saw her. I thought well it can't be that serious.. she'll pull through as I rushed to the hospital.. of course she will.. shes Gaylene!

When I got there, she was propped up in bed. .laughing as usual and told me not to bloody worry , she'd be fine! What she didnt' say was she was in 4th stage cancer and the outlook was very very grim. I found out from a friend later they had given her 3 months to live. I went back in and visited her and she said .. you know what I've beaten everything else in my life.. I'm going to fight and beat this bastard. And fight she did.. she fought for 5 long years. defying all medical prediction. she was determined to see her daughter through high school .. and she did.... the day after Ruby graduated.. she died.

It was a shock, a blow to all of us who loved her. We had known it was coming but it never prepares you. .. we had thought she would go on, fighting ,defying death.. though we knew it was inevitable at some point.

Well after the shock Geraldine was Geraldine and she had prepared every last detail of her funeral... right down to the after *party* (as she called it) menu. As a tribute to her.. nearly 1000 turned up.. from every walk fo life.. professors, kids from the local schools, mums, older people and of course all the big burly union guys in their overalls. We had it in the biggest hall at the cremotorium as she wanted no part of religion basically believing in Marx's addage *religion is the opium of the people*. The people just kept coming and flowed out onto the lawns and gardens. There was poetry and music and many jokes and stories of her life s well as touching tributes. But the funniest and most typically Geraldine thing that happened was a recording of her. basically DOMMING all the tough union guys. into singing Harper Valley PTA as it was considered her song. She said ." right you lot , including you union bastards you are going to sing Harper Valley PTA in your loudest voices and if I don't hear it up here or I'm coming back to haunt you for the rest of your bloody lives"! WEll have you ever seen big burly guys turn white with fear?? I cracked up laughing as they all looked at each other sheepishly when the music came on and at the song sheet.. First they sang softly well sort of mumbled .. obviously embarrassed and shuffling their feet..and then we heard Geraldine's voice saying *louder*! (she knew them so well) and so half terrifed that Geraldine would come down and bite their asses they all stepped it up till the whole crematorium was filled with out of tune union guys singing at the top of their lungs*

No, I wouldn't put you on

Because it really did it happened just this way

The day my mama socked it to the

Harper Valley PTA

The day my mama socked it to the

Harper Valley PTA

It was so typically Geraldine and so incredibly uplifting, funny and poignant.. we all didnt' know if we were laughing crying or crying laughing. She socked it to everyone and we were all better for it. The party afterwards was a riot.

She died as she lived, making a splash, and making everyone see outside of the box. We loved her and love her still.

Vale Gaylene.

RFL Life Confession By Maisy Dollinger

Relay for Life Confession

By Maisy Dollinger

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Hope in Research

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I remember very clearly the day my parents called me to tell me the news that my dad had prostate cancer, it was a word I knew well and had lost a friend to cancer a few years previous.

But I am an optimistic person, I was straight onto some friends I know who are in medicine and learnt a lot through my own reserach. Initially we heard a lot of positivity..."Prostate cancer is a common cancer and there is a high chance of recovery"....."he can be treated and still die of plain old age"....."we caught it early, there are lots of options". All of this put my family and I at ease and we went about our business waiting for results of further tests.

Soon those results came and the messages changed slightly, but still gave hope. "His cancer is inoperable" along with "it is an agressive form of prostate cancer"....what did this mean? Aren't all cancers agressive by their very nature? My mum just looked at me for answers and I could see fear in her and I will never forget the look she had that day. The Dr's all talked of treatments and therapies and we as a family took it all in, researched, asked questions, cried and supported each other.

This led my dad to what seemed to be a never ending cycle of treatments and hospital visits...about 18 months in all, hormones, steroids, anti depressants, chemotherapy, radiotherapy, more hormones and it went on, this was how life was. We knew he was never going to be cured, but this seemed to be containing it all. He lived through this daily, the biggest health scare you can have...daily. He stayed strong, enjoyed meeting friends, going for drinks with my boy, taking family out to eat and embraced it all.

Every month he would have his PSA levels checked and this was a measure of how the cancer was doing, was it spreading? etc. it stayed stable, small fluctuations from month to month but nothing to alarm us......until....

One month it lept up, and I mean lept up a lot. The numbers of this antigen in his blood indicated it had spread. Magnetic resonance imaging, bone scans, ecg's all followed, more blood tests.

The scans came back and it had spread to his bones, predominantly in his spine, and the blood tests revealed his PSA was spiking. I knew this was not good and so did my mother, my dad stopped asking questions and just looked at the Dr, with tears running down his cheeks, and said that he did not want to die. This was really hard to sit through with them, but I am glad I can be there for my parents. You have to know this is a man, retired from 25plus years service in the army and to see him beg for life was heartbreaking, he was scared and worried...what could we say? You get to a point where you can no longer say "it's ok, we'll get some medicine and it will all be ok", because it wasn't going to be ok.

A month later he was told he has 12 months to live, that was April 2010. I remember being at work knowing he had his check up, and I had a feeling it was not going to be good, he looked ill the last time I had seen him, and I had pre-warned my boss I may need the afternoon off. Around midday the call came and the news was broken, I was devastated, I cried at my desk and I left work. He left mum with her friend and I met him in a pub. We just drank and talked, the conversation did not dwell on his news, but on life and hope. He just kept saying that he was not going to die and he would be ok, it was tough as he looked for confirmation of this statement, but what do you say?

Still to this day he does not talk about it being terminal, he never has said the words. But he knows, he has moments where he will talk to me....I remember Christmas Day, he did well, but in the afternoon he got tired and went to bed, I remember lying next to him on the bed and he looked grey in colour, swollen from the steroids, sunken tired eyes. He started to cry and said he can't go on much more, he said he was scared. It broke my heart and I layed there and cried with him, hugging him. This is a young man in my eyes and a man who has grandchildren who want to play with him, climb on his back, listen to his stories....he is an amazingly funny man, he is talented, and can sing like Elvis, and that is no exaggeration....he thought he had no hope....but he goes on.

Earlier this year, we were told his last chemotherapy did nothing and it was still spreading, now in his lymph, shadows on his kidney, further up his spine and a PSA level which was astronomical.

In the UK the Royal Marsden Hospital in Surrey is an amazing centre for cancer research, they only treat cancer....and it is famous for it's research and trials. I knew my dad had no other options to him, and we needed to find him a trial, I work in a medical arena and went through the lists of every single drugs trial for Prostate cancer I could find....there are a lot. There are also lots of qualifying criteria, based on previous treatment, age, type of cancer...endless variations. Crossing more and more off my list it seemed impossible to find a match. But we managed to get referred.

I remember walking into that hospital, it was the first time I had been to a place purely dedicated to Cancer research and treatment. To say I was moved is an understatement. People of all ages, from all walks of life, sharing this illness, a commonality, but warmth, happiness and hope was there too. We were seen and my father was accepted onto a drugs trial. This is a drug with no name as yet and there is what they call a double blind study, so he had a one in three chance of being on a placebo and even his Dr would not be able to tell, hence called double blind (the computer decides). This hospital will be looking after him. Now, these are the experts, the best there is at this, the top specialist in this form of cancer is reviewing his documents, there has to be hope, right?

There is hope, and we have it as a family. His twelve months is up in a few weeks, and he is doing ok. Dont get me wrong, he is still terminally poorly with secondary cancers, but it has not grown since he started the trials, his PSA level has even dropped......He is NOT on the placebo. He is more positive, yes we still cry, he still has a lot of pain relief injections in the middle of the night, he goes to the hospice from time to time.....but there IS hope of a longer life. Hope in research, hope in people, hope in kindness and empathy of all those who know him and my family. But most of all this is a disease which touches us all, there is no escape from it, but there is always hope.

Destiny Does Dallas

The long, three hour delayed, ten hour flight was finally over and I landed at Dallas Fort Worth Airport.

After getting through customs, which proved an ordeal I itself (I was stopped by a cute Beagle who smelt an apple I’d left I my carry on – which resulted in all my bags being checked and the custom guy commenting ‘those are very red, very shiny shoes’. To which I replied, ‘yes and I love them’. We exchanged a knowing look). I finally walked through into arrivals and saw the beautiful ‘Zebra’ as she had described herself – the stunning Miss Eloise in a lovely zebra print outfit, holding a bright pink card that said ‘Destiny’. We hugged and I couldn’t stop saying, ‘OMG, I’m here, it’s you!’ Her husband, Joe, was also there of course. He’s a lovely guy, but really, Eloise and I didn’t pay him much attention!

It was around midnight according to my body clock, but I was very alert as the adrenaline had kicked in – I was finally here – in Dallas! We went to eat, although I wasn’t very hungry, but I did get to try some fried pickles. Hmm….an acquired taste for sure. I also had a delicious Margeurita.

I can’t explain how I felt arriving at Eloise’s home. It is beautiful, it is soooo Miss Eloise Mureaux from top to bottom. She is a collector of beautiful things. Her home is just luxuriant and opulent with a hint of decadence thrown in. On the table in the living room was a huge ‘Destiny’ cake and glass bowls of candy, all beautifully presented. I was literally speechless. Eloise then showed me my rooms – a dressing room, bedroom and my own bathroom. All most beautifully furnished and with everything I could wish for or need for my stay. She then gave me a huge bag absolutely full of individually wrapped gifts – ranging from pink satin eye mask to a ‘Honorary Texan’ mug…..so much, such generosity. I was and still am overwhelmed by the kindness of my dear friend. Next, Eloise gave me one of her own creations – a truly gorgeous necklace made from crystals and gems in my favourite colour – purple.

And so, our week began.....we had the most amazing time and I also really enjoyed meeting Cherrie Opus, another lovely Texan lady who came to dinner. Eloise cooked a GORGEOUS meal and made delicious cocktails for us as the three of us sat in crowns and chatted the night away. Cherrie’s sub, Rosie, is British, has visited and is planning to move to Dallas permanently, so she and I had much to talk about. I was starting to feel nervous about meeting Rich. I was surprised just how nervous I felt. I think that although I had convinced myself we would just be friends, I wanted more. I hoped for more, but was trying not to think about it.

Eloise and I always got on well on SL, but this week we became like sisters. Her health is not great, and I hated being a burden on her, but I hope she enjoyed my company as much as I did hers. More gifts followed, as well as shopping trips and other girlie adventures. We even have a little catchphrase now - Eloise told me she likes Jamie Oliver and chuckled at him saying 'Is it nice?' (ask Eloise to say it in her accent). We now say this often to each other. She is an amazing, beautiful woman, inside and out. I love her and miss her very much.

Now…..as for Rich……this is where things get a little dirtier, in more ways than one. Dear Eloise was my stylist, helping me decide what to wear, which changed several times during the day of course, I the end she bought me a beautiful purple silk shirt that I wore with black pants and low heels. My hair behaved itself, my make up was done…I was ready!

So everybody wants the details, the smutty stuff, the erotic, exciting, dirty details…well….who am I to disappoint my adoring fans?!

Meeting Rich aroused many feelings in me, one of which was the overwhelming urge to dominate him. Rich is a big guy, he’s fairly tall, well built, quite broad. He is a man’s man, one of the guys type guy and that just made me want to dom the fuck out of him even more.

The first night we went for something to eat, quite early and told him I wasn’t ready to go home yet – home being Eloise and Joe’s, my surrogate parents for those three days ;). So we decided to go to the movies. After establishing where the movie theatre was, Rich bought the tickets and we had some time to browse the shops in the mall. Rich walked slightly behind me, I noticed. He showed no interest in looking at anything for himself, but simply followed me like a good dog, as I browsed various stores. It’s hard to put into words, but I could just ‘feel’ his submission emanating from him.

During the movie, Rich held the popcorn pointing in my direction, for my convenience, of course. I’m sure I had a wry smile on my face all the way through ‘The King’s Speech’ which, incidentally, is a great movie. Ironic that I watched a film about the British Monarchy at a cinema in Dallas, Texas!

After the movie we had the drive home. For a while it felt as if we were a regular couple out on a date, but somewhere along the journey, I can’t remember how or why, we were probably joking, he called me ‘Mistress’ instead of stumbling over ‘Miss’ all day as he had been. I pushed him on it and he agreed that it felt ‘right’. I know that I began to tease him verbally as he drove, but I really cannot remember how, I just know that his speed got up a little and then he realised and slowed back down. I remember joking about him begging to chew my gum.

We parked and agreed a time for him to pick me up the next day. I was still chewing gum, I took it out of my mouth and made him beg for it. I stretched it between my teeth, my eyes fixed on him. I made sure that I salivated over it. Rich’s eyes were fixed on my mouth as I licked and dribbled on the gum. He continued to beg. I laughed and shoved it into his mouth, leaned forward, kissed him on the mouth. I held him, felt his warmth, felt his breath on my neck he said, ‘oh Mistress, I’ve never stopped loving you. I pulled back and looked at him, saw the sincerity in his moist eyes. I kissed him again, smiled and then told him to message me when he got home as I got out of the car. My heart was thumping wildly and it was very hard to contain my emotions, but I knew it was early days and I wanted to give him time to reflect and think about his feelings.

The next day we had a great time at the Southfork Ranch and we went to meet Rich’s parents place. I really enjoyed that. We ate on the way home and spent a long time talking about just about everything. I could feel the intensity between us growing, I know he could too. It was all very natural, but there was that intoxicating sexual tension in the air.

I may have got Thursday and Friday night’s events mixed up (blame my age!). However…on Friday, daytime, we went into Dallas City Centre. At the station I was a little cold, Rich immediately gave me his jacket, leaving him in just a light sweater. I was still a little chilly, so he crouched down, while I placed my hands on his neck to warm them up. He then blew warm air and rubbed my hands and arms to keep them warm as I sat on the station, waiting for the train. It was a very obvious picture of servitude and we both very naturally and very happily slipped into it.

The most intense time was our last night. We were in the car (again), the proverbial teenagers in love with nowhere to go! I was feeling very dommish and very horny. I ran my finger nails down Rich’s face, he leaned into my hand and murmured slightly. I could see the lust, adoration, the love…there, in his eyes. I pressed my nails into his cheek and dragged down a little. I wanted to possess this boy, to take him, fiercely, passionately, totally and completely. I leaned in and kissed him. He gasped a little as I bit his bottom lip and pulled it, hard with my teeth. I told him ‘I want you. You are mine’. He could only mumble, ‘yes Mistress’.

I can’t remember the order of events, when you are consumed with lust it’s hard to recall exactly in what order it all happened. I know that I tenderly stroked his face and then suddenly withdrew and slapped him hard across the left cheek. Telling him that he was a stupid boy for ever leaving me. He begged forgiveness. I hit him, serveral times, inbetween passionately kissing him.

I reached down and grabbed his balls, squeezing them hard. He cried out as I twisted him roughly, ‘Who do these belong to?’ I demanded. ‘You Mistress’ my puppet blurted out as he winced with pain.

I kissed him again and told him to give me his tongue. He poked it out and I clamped my teeth down on to it. He yelped and tried to stay still as I pulled my head back, stretching his tongue.

I reached down and grabbed his nipple, twisting it hard, he yelled again loudly, about how sensitive his nipples had become. I laughed and told him he was a wimp. He promised to toughen up before I returned. I told him he would need to.

I could feel my hot wetness in my panties now as my puppet squirmed and yelped at my every touch. ‘Do you want to smell my sex, slut boy?’ I asked. ‘Oh yes, yes please Mistress. I’ll do anything’. I plunged my hand into my panties and was surprised at how completely soaking they were. I slipped my index finger into my hot wet cunt, coating it with my musty, silken juices and pulled it back out, grinning at Rich, who looked as if he was about to drool all over the gear shift.

I placed my finger just underneath his nose and told him to breathe in deeply. He whimpered. I told him to open his mouth, like a baby chick he did, and he waited as I grinned and put my finger inside. He sucked like a baby on a teat, greedily, hungrily, desperately.

I pulled my finger out and slapped his face, telling him not to be so greedy. He whimpered, ‘sorry my Mistress’.

By now I was incredibly aroused and wanted him naked, and bent over so I could use him properly, but I knew this was not an option. Not here, not this night, not now, but I knew then that it was only a matter of time. The desire to consume him was all encompassing, overpowering as I plunged my hand back inside my panties, this time thrusting two fingers deep inside my cunt to thoroughly coat my fingers with my juices.

He begged to taste and I gave him two fingers to suck, this time I deliberately let him such, but began to fuck his mouth with my fingers, harder, deeper with each thrust. Rich gagged and heaved, I pulled out my hand. ‘Are you gagging on me, boy? How ungrateful!’ I slapped his face again, harder and again and again. Once more I grabbed his cock and balls and told him that he was mine, all mine.

We played this way for a while, until I knew that I was driving us both into a lust filled frenzy that sadly I could not see to fruition in a car, I a residential street in an upmarket area of Dallas! I reluctantly stopped and we talked for a short while. I wanted to make sure he was calm for the drive home. We talked of our plans, of our hopes and dreams and we acknowledged that his place was with me. He told me that he would, could and must submit to me. I smiled, my heart burning with love and happiness as I bid my boy goodnight and went inside to satiate my lust in the privacy of my bedroom. I came really hard and deeply as in my mind I finished what I had started I the car.

Since returning home I have missed Rich very very much and found it difficult to adjust to life back here in Essex, England. I am now activedly planning my return, this time to stay and to claim my boy and make him completely and permanently mine.

Dallas Confession By Rich

My confession

First let me say that it has been over three months since I have been in the Dominion and i send my most humble greetings to everyone there that may remember me from last year.

I write this confession tonight somewhat torn by competing forces. Mistress Destiny wants it from me and wants me to talk about her Dallas trip. At the same time my natural desire to keep my RL Private pulls me back and even if I write there is no way I can include "steamy" details as my Southern upbringing forbids me from sullying my Mistresses honor in any way. (I know...a bit old fashioned but I am who I am)

But, in the end, Mistress wins out and a confession of her trip will be forthcoming.

I am not too sure where to go with it as everything about her trip -or almost everything- was put on Facebook or on her blog. I got to see Mistress for the last 3 days of her visit. She spent the first part with Miss Eloise who was, as I knew she would be, probably the perfect hostess for Mistress. It was Miss Eloise who answered the door when it was my turn to be with Mistress and once I heard her voice I knew right away it was her. She gave me a great hug and within a moment Mistress Destiny came out. She looked great and had a grand smile and also greeted me with a hug. So here I was, in the presence of two of the most revered Ladies in the Dominion, and I felt totally at ease. Mistress and I left and we had agreed only to have dinner at the Outback Steakhouse. Some of you may recall that we had a five month SL relationship that ended in November, however she still decided to make the trip over so we had a "play it by ear" attitude. It did not take long at all however for both of us to know that our time together was going to last much longer than just the dinner. I felt so incredibly at ease in Mistresses presence.

I had worried a bit about some of the vanity issues. Mistress had enjoyed Miss Eloise's hospitality in her very nice house and now she was coming to...well...The way i put it to her, right as we left Miss Eloise's house, was "You have been living for the past few days in the TV show Dallas. Now its time for the Dukes of Hazzard". She got a good laugh out of that and I never gave it a second thought. All the materiel stuff was out the window. The truth is we both enjoyed each others company immensely and though i started the time out fairly guarded, by the second day she had me addressing her as Mistress and yearning hard to fully submit to her. I am still amazed at how well we got along. I had alot of things "in the hopper" for her trip depending on how things went. If there was no connection, if we were just going to be, at the very best, friends, I had planned on taking her to my house and maybe meet my roommate and possibly catch a meeting and meet some friends. But the connection was so good i not only wanted, but looked very forward to, introducing her to my parents and showing off our family ranch. That would not have happened if there had not been a really good connection.

On her final day Mistress Destiny did Dallas...i mean...ummm...Mistress and i took in the sites of Dallas. It is here that I will throw my guard back up and just say that we had a fantastic day and ended it very well. Mistress may or may not want to elaborate but that is entirely up to her.

I will say this in conclusion though so that there is no doubt in anyone's mind about something. Mistress Destiny and I are a near perfect match. I don't think I ever stopped loving her or yearning very hard to give our lifestyle a go. It looks like it could very well happen and as a mutual friend of ours recently said on Facebook...I am over the moon about it. I don't show emotions too often. Its not in my character to do so. You know what...I am a guy. I plead guilty to that. But never let it be said that I am not very very passionate about Mistress Destiny. I have got to meet her and she is an incredible and Special woman who I truly hope and pray makes it back over here permanently and gives me the opportunity to fully and completely submit myself to her as a total slave. This can and will work :).

Hope By Anonymous

Oh its the depths of winter and the weather is weighing heavily on my morale. I long for green and spring, and long warm summer nights. Hope springs eternal and hope is what makes life worth living. Isn't it drab without something, someone to look forward to? The long monotonous days run in to each other, wearing down your spirit. Is it wrong to indulge a fancy, even if you know it can't last? Is it not necessary to tarry and dally, to bend down and smell the flowers before they fade, even if your hands are full of blossoms? Will you judge me ungrateful if I don't spend my moments appreciating what I have, but rather, longing for what I don't? It's not that I'm ungrateful, it's that I've learnt that hope is necessary for survival. So don't judge me too harshly if I linger and listen to those sweet words, drink in the smiles and little kindnesses. Perhaps it would be cruel to kill the hopes of this one, who may too like to linger behind the crowd, lay down in the grass and stretch his fingers up to the sun.

Wiggle Worm By Heather Steampunk

I am fascinated by St. Andrew's crosses. I am not exactly sure what it is about them, that lures me to them, but they seduce me, excite me and scare me to death. I suppose that is how my mind works, the things in life that scare me, excite me. I am a thrill seeker, but I never follow true, because the fear of what might happen, always rules over the excitement. My fear dominates my excitement.

I have never been tied up to a St. Andrew's cross. Yet I am standing right in front of one. It is an impressive sight. The cross is black, it lures me to it and I am scared. The chains are hang there peacefully, quietly, there is no sound coming from it, no metal clashing, absolutely silence.

I take a step forward towards the cross. Tonight, there are no steps back, only steps forward. A step forward in my submission, a step forward in my learning process, in Her learning process, in my trust in her, a step forward to my fear. I try to swallow down the knot that settles in my throat, but the nervousness will not go away. It lingers, always present, in the back of my head, in my heartbeat, in my throat.

“Would it be easier on you, if I'd blindfold you?” The voice behind me startles me and I nod my head. The voice is calm, caring, loving, worried, something I know will change once the blindfold comes on, when the games begin. The blindfold, somewhat calms me, I cannot see what is happening, I cannot see the faces looking at me, staring at me and I like that.

“I will be nice to you and permit you the blindfold .. for now. Do not count on it the entire evening. Today is about taking a step forward.” I nod my head, knowing I am not permitted to speak until given permission. “Turn around.” I do as being told and turn around. A smile spreads across my face, I love the sight of my Mistress. She is a rare jewel, precious to me, I never want to lose Her. She slips the blindfold over my head and I am surrounded by darkness, my heartbeat calms somewhat and I take a deep breath.

She pushes me towards the cross and when I feel cold wood press into my back I shiver. She grabs my left hand and attaches the chain to my handcuff and repeats the action with my right hand. I already feel exposed and nothing has even happened yet. “Spread your legs, Mine.” Her voice gets more demanding and I do as She asks. My feet are tied to the cross and I can hear the metal of the chains now. “You are stuck with me now. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, how does that make you feel?” I try to come up with an answer in my head, but I do not know how I feel. I am scared and excited at the same time. “I asked you a question, since when do you not answer questions?” Her voice sounds agitated. Her fingers grab my nipple and She pinches hard. A whining sound escapes my mouth and I answer Her quickly: “Scared, Mistress. I feel scared.” She chuckles. “Excellent.”

I can hear Her pacing back and forth on the floor. The sound of Her heels set a rhythm for me. With every step She takes I breath in and out. Out of nowhere I feel a sharp pain in my nipple, Her teeth are sinking into it and pulling hard. I can already feel myself getting wet. Her finger traces down my stomach and my breathing fastens. The further down She gets, the slower her finger moves until it stops completely. “I want to hear you beg for it tonight, but not yet. You will beg soon enough.”

“We are going to play a little game tonight. It is called, 'Do not move, under any circumstance'. I gulp. I am a wiggle worm. I move, that is what I do, all the time. I cannot sit still, I cannot lay still, I cannot stand still. “You see, I want to play this game, because it excites me and it pleases me and I know that more than anything, you want to please your Mistress. Am I correct?” “Yes, Mistress.” The words are barely coming out of my mouth when suddenly both Her hands grab my breasts. She squeezes them, pinches my nipples and rolls them between her fingers until they are rock hard. I wonder if I'm in trouble now. I have not moved, but my nipples most certainly have, they moved forward.

I know what is coming next. Nipple clamps. She puts them on and I growl softly, I love that feeling. I like to feel that pain on my nipples, though after a while, they grow numb to the feeling. She pulls the chain that connects the clamps and makes sure they are attached firmly. “Remember, the rules of the game. You will not move, understood?” I whispers a “Yes, Mistress.”

Her hands move over my body, Her touch is sensational. Her fingers soft as silk, but firm as brick when She spanks me. Goosebumps appear all over my body and when Her fingernails scratch down my legs I wiggle. Her fingers stop moving and I wonder why. But then I realize .. I moved. I wiggled. “Seriously? One minute? You last one minute on the one thing I tell you not to do?” Her voice is more harsh now, evil even. I disappointed her and by doing that, I disappointed myself. “You will count and You will thank me after each blow.” At first I am not sure what She hits me with. Identifying toys is not something I am used to yet. “One, Mistress, thank You Mistress.” When I feel the sting in my legs, I know exactly what She is using. A flogger. Not a flogger made of leather, this one is made out of rope and the rope hurts like hell. She flogs me ten times and I count and thank Her. After the tenth strike, tears stream down my face. My legs are burning, but the burning between my legs became more intense as well. I want nothing more but for Her to touch me there.

“Apologize. You better make it good, or we will do another ten.” “I am truly sorry for disobeying Your orders my Mistress. I should not have wiggled as You have clearly informed me of the one rule and I failed to obey You. I beg Your forgiveness, my Mistress, I am sorry for disappointing You.” She doesn't speak. Silence is the worst punishment of all. She sighs. “Amazing as I am, I will give you a second chance. You best not let me down again.”

Her fingernails dig into my skin as they scratch down my legs again, where She flogged me before. I dare not move. Out of nowhere two fingers slip through my wet folds, I moan loud and long, I ache for Her touch. “Oh my. Now what do we have here?” I am soaking wet, no one turns me on like She does. Whether it's a touch or a certain look, She excites me. She spanks my pussy and the tingling in my clit becomes unbearable. I want to move so badly, rub against Her hand, but I am too scared of the consequences. I am caught off guard when Her finger enters me. My legs are on the edge of trembling, my whole body is on fire and I cannot help but beg. “Please Mistress.” “Please what?” I swallow and try to overcome the fear. “Please Mistress fuck me.” I hear an approving sound coming from Her. “Now that's what I call a step forward.” She adds more fingers as She dips Her fingers slowly in and out of me. Her hand must be soaked. “It's not good enough though, you know what to do.” Her other hand grabs my ass and squeezes it. I'm fighting every urge to move, it is impossible not to wiggle, not to give into the temptation, so I try to distract myself. “Please Mistress, fuck me harder.” The words come out loud, I surprise myself. She slaps my ass hard and I beg Her to fuck me, to take what's Hers. She fucks me, with Her fingers. They move in and out of me faster, harder and deeper and my clit throbs. I know what is going to happen next and so does She. I move. I wiggle. I tremble.

She removes Her fingers and brings them to my mouth. Clean them. Now.” I do as She tells me and suck Her fingers clean, every last inch of them. “Obviously, I have not made myself very clear to you. Open your mouth wide.” A gag is shoved in my mouth and I try not to choke on it. “I would tell you not to move, but you do not listen to me anyway, so I will be right back.” I can hear Her walk away and She slams the door. I wait and wait, feeling angry at myself for disappointing Her again. Tears fall down my cheek and I scream. I hate doing this. I hate not being able to stay still. I hate disappointing Her. I try to count to minutes until She returns, but I lose track after ten minutes. After what seems like an eternity, the door opens. I listen to Her foot steps, but something is off. I hear two types of foot steps, one slower than the other. There is a third person in the room. “Mistress?” “Shush. I did not permit you to speak.” She does not sound angry, but Her tone is firm anyway, so I keep silent.

“I decided to bring someone else in the room. Obviously you need some more pursuance to keep still. I can hear a chuckle that sounds oddly familiar, but I can't place it. “Remember what I told you about that blindfold? It is coming off. I will tell you again, you are not permitted to move until I tell you. In order to make this a little more clear, I am hoping that when your blindfold comes off, you will understand the message or you will face the consequences, this time it is up to you.” I am confused by Her words and utterly scared that She exposed myself to someone else.

The blindfold gets removed from my eyes and it takes me a second to get adjusted to the light. Then I see Her. I smile. It's my other Mistress. My eyes grow bigger as I see what is in Her hands though. “Hello hun! Surprise!” My eyes wonder to Her hands and what She is holding in them, as I stare straight ..into the barrel.. of a gun.

Alexi's Superbowl Party

How I spent my super bowl party:

by

Alexi Gracemount:

A few years ago, I was a member of a pretty good sized swinger's group and they would have some pretty wild parties. It wasn't uncommon to rent a 2 story house for a weekend and for 80 people to show up at it for the party. There were some very wild times and the club was specifically bi friendly, because the foudner and his wife were very openly and happilly bi. As a result there were a few sub groups of bi men and gay men, who were loosely connected with the group.

That year the men's group decided to have a super bowl party at the house. The house was pretty huge, 2 floors with an indoor pool and shaded off hot tub. The parties were always explicitly no clothes allowed, so everyone brought a towel and flip flops and that was the limit for what was allowed.

I got to the party pretty early. The game stuff didn't start until 3 or so, but I was there about 2 to get a good spot. I brought my towel and put it on the floor near the door and waiting. As men started to show up, most of them would say hi, check in and go get a beer, but a few would unzip right there and feed me their cocks. I sucked of 3 or 4 and probably sucked at least 10 more for at least a minute or 2. Eventually the crowd settled in and piled onto sofas and on the floor to watch the game. This was the year of the famous wardrobe malfunction, so the game itself was pretty good, but I spent the first half crawling from man to man to suck while they watched it and to be fed beer by the ones who thought it was cute to get a drunk slut to play with. As you probably know, the half is only 30 minutes long, but at the super bowl, there are so many commercials that it goes on for at least twice that. I must have taken 10 loads on my face in the first half but then halftime came.

At halftime I was taken upstairs in the house. The upstairs had several beds and a couple of massage tables set up and I was handcuffed to one of the massage tables, face down. The table have hinges where the head part can be tilted and a space for your facce to lay, supported by a ring around the edges. The head part was set to my head was tilted up a bit and my ankles were tied to the outside legs of the table. When the halftime show kicked off, I kicked off too. I took a line of men in the mouth and ass for the entirety of the long halftime, and if you know the super bowl, you know the halftime is especially long. I never did get to see the wardrobe malfuntion and I never did get let off the table until the game was over and everyone who wanted it, had taken my ass or mouth.

I took a nice shower and staggered home, but I think I couldn't sit still for a week after that.