Good Boy by Anonymous

Good Boy
-------------

I am not allowed to look up at her. My eyes are downcast. My wrists are crossed at the small of my back. My cock aches against the seam of my jeans. Goosebumps crawl across my bare back as the silence stretches.

My gaze is locked on her shoes. They're not heels. Not this woman. She is not the type to tolerate any discomfort for fashion. Or to wear anything, let's face it, for my sake.

I admit my tastes have changed since I met her six months ago. My snapshot fantasy of a latex-clad dominatrix has been slowly dismantled. Although I still have a stirring respect for that imagery, it's my soul that responds to this down-to-earth woman whose power has nothing to do with her costume.

She's wearing walking shoes, heavy and practical, and blue jeans that fit snugly to her broad thighs and hips. Her hands are shoved in her pockets as she looks down at me. And I don't allow my eyes to look any further up than this.

"Do you have to kneel?" she asks me, finally. Her voice is soft, but the question is pointed.

"No, Miss," I say quietly.

"Do you have to call me 'Miss'?" she asks in the same tone.

I close my eyes and my heart thuds in my chest. Finally, I shake my head. "No," I say, but I hear the hesitation after I answer, where I want to give her the title. The absence of the word is a loud silence in my ears.

"Why."

"Because they're both just symbols," I tell her quietly, my eyes still down. I know in my heart that everything we've talked about is true. But it's hard. I hope she can hear that I really do understand.

"Kneeling is a... is a physical metaphor," I say haltingly. "Kneeling lets me use my body to tell you that I feel beneath you, in your control. And the title is the same thing. It's a... a verbal symbol, so that every statement I make reinforces that I am beneath you, in your control. But that's... that's all they are. They don't create the truth, they just reinforce it. They're just symbols. Even if I stand, even if I don't call you by anything but your name, you, you.... still own me." My voice drops to a whisper. "It's true... all... the time."

"That's right," she says. Her hand enters my line of vision. She's offering to help me to my feet. I grasp her small hand in mine and she pulls me up. She is looking up at me as I look down at her. Reflexively, I cross my wrists behind my back and stand at something like parade rest, my eyes looking out into the middle distance. This old protocol comes to me so easily that I hardly notice. But her cool hand smooths across my chest and she says, "Look at me."

I look down into her warm brown eyes. She's not smiling. I feel myself blushing faintly and I abandon the pose, standing more naturally beside her. I hope it looks casual, normal. She smiles and pushes a shirt against my bare chest. "Wear the green."

"Yes, M--" I say, then stop. No title. Ok. "I mean, sure."

She watches me as I button the shirt in front of the full-length mirror. It's not too bad. I look a little shaggy, maybe. I rub the stubble on my cheek and chin and she says, "You have nothing to worry about."

"A long weekend," I tell her, looking at her reflection in the mirror. "That's four days."

"Three nights," she agrees.

"And your parents," I add.

"You'll be fine," she says with a smile. But she can see the way I'm looking at her. Her expression changes, her tone changes, and she says, lower, "You WILL be fine. Do you understand me?"

"Yes--" Halted. The absence of the word is so loud. I know I'm blushing. But I know an order when I hear one.

"Good boy," she says.

And Still by Anonymous

(dropped in the confessions box)

And Still I am Alone...

I look about me and I see joy and happiness,
They have stories of what they have done,
Glorious recountings of submission and pleasure,
And I envy them with a fire that consumes me.

I hear it in their voices and see it in their faces,
The release and denial all part of the same,
Their bond strengthened as surely as they are bound,
And I cry that I have yet to feel a single word.

I thought being owned would be more than this,
That there would be more than a casual knowedge,
That there would be time with the one who owns my heart,
And still I am alone.

Miss Pamela by Carl

Hanna Please read this little prelude!

[04:38]  carl Coberts: i'm completely free of liability with regard to that story
[04:38]  carl Coberts: without prejudice
[04:38]  Zarita Shan: hahaha
[04:38]  Zarita Shan: yeah whatever
[04:39]  Zarita Shan: YOu ARE LIable
[04:39]  carl Coberts: oh gawd
[04:40]  carl Coberts: I'm going for a surf then... all this D/s has me strung out

------------------------------------------------------------------
I've actually been submitting at some level or another to Miss Pamela for the past two years or so. I remember finishing up my last year in college when I met Her, She is one of those intriguing Dommes who I couldn't help wonder about.

At the time I had swine flu and thought it some how appropriate to dress as a latex pig in sl, I remember being at a party high above the Dominion when She spotted me and literally when to town, making me sit on pose balls and squiring me and spit roasting me and setting me on fire, a lasting memory was of her walking on my head while the rest of me was hidden underground, the feeling of humiliation and an admiration for Her amazing creativity. But to finish off the night she through me off the high platform letting me fall to the sim below... I was addicted.

Within a few mouths She had bought me at auction, or perhaps I had been bought for Her. Nevertheless I was over the moon, but the cruel humiliation and physiological domination started straight away as I was sent away to buy a French maids outfit called all legs. And a sensations collar and cuffs which I still wear today.

This was when sub space really started for me with Miss Pamela, She brought me back to Her castle on a leash and down into her dungeon, there was cells, which which had dead maids lying in them. There was a butchers table as well which I didn't like to think about.

Miss Pamela had a cell in the back of the dungeon which she hog tied my and cagged and blindfolded me, it was under this kind of Dominance and control that I really started to fall into sub space, my arms would go weak, my yes want to roll and  close, overcome my offering of vulnerability and a surge of blood to my cock giving me an erection that usually doesn't appear like that.

I received numerous whippings, tauntings and abuses in her dungeon I really can remember the order at the time she used to only refer to me as skid mark, awful as it sounds I had this strange obligation to show her gratitude for all the attention she gave me, even if it was solely for her entertainment and at the expense of my dignity, of which today the only thing I do derive diginity from in sl is the thought that I am Her toy as much as I can be.

Eventually I was given a hideously girlie pink sissy dress by Miss Pamela and allowed out of Her dungeon, She used to drag me along to her doing gigs but I never used to listen to the stream just concentrate on being an entertaining toy and submissive for Her. Of course the level of attention which she focused on my was always consuming erotic and fulfilling. In fact my sl seemed totally boring to me when she was not online.

At that time I was in California and the times zones were convenient and closer but when I cam back to Europe life got hectic and the time zones were all out, I didn't log on for a long time and when I did she was never online, We spoke a bit but she seemed unimpressed with me.

Things were quiet for a while then at least in sl until last Christmas, I had some time to myself, weeks to myself, my interest in D/s grew again and I started hanging around the D again. I was called to trial before Miss Lisa who convicted me and some trumped up charge, but to my great amazement she sentenced me to a week in rev with Miss Pamela.

When I imbed Miss Pamela she was receptive she had no interest in the rev but did have an interest in owning me for the week at least, She was only loads over christmas and dragged me here and there degrading me this was an that, usually I was tied up and suspended inside down from her do tip box. Dispute numerous calls from Miss Eva to have me gagged Miss Pamela always refrained, I guess being gagged is a reward.

At the time I was still playing and dressing up myself in sl and really enjoying but one day Miss Pamela informed me that if she got anymore messages from my cuffs and collar saying that I had taken them off that there would be trouble. She explained to me that trouble means.... Being ignored and that she knew that would hurt me. She then proceeded to beat me to a pulp with a huge meat tenderiser before having me thank her as she logged off.

I complained that I had been locked out of my collar and cuffs, boots and corset but she explained to me that I'd have to get used to my new situation and that she was good enough to lock them and that I would have to respect that and act according.

As a submissives she owned me, she owned my collar and held the keys to all my kinky toys, she told me that I would only break them anyway, she revelled in my humiliation and I squirmed under the microscope of her deviance.

When my sentence was up it was after Christmas we had even spent new years eve together. I reported for duty to her, I was well trained to curtesy by now. She informed me that my sentence was up but I was still totally addicted. I couldn't just take off her collar and go back to the way things were before. She told me not  to hook my carriage up to a star that was headed for the sun. But I couldn't give up on her and she told me if I showed up she might show me some attention and so I did just happily ready to receive any dominance she might fed to my hopeless addiction to her.

I informed that I wouldn't take the collar off and that she'd have to kill me first, so she looked for her gun.

A few days later I was put on auction at the D she ordered me to do it, I was to be naked, and I asked if I should take the collar off too, but when she said no I was so relieved, she said that the who ever bought me who be made second owner on it. It's not the most pornographic thing  in the world but wearing  her collar means a lot to me.

In the end She bought me for 6000 lindens, she told me not to get a big head straight away, but I was already in us space for her kissing her boots and asking her to spit on me... Both of which she kindly granted.

I was brought back to her house she was cursing about kicking 6000 lindens worth of shit out of me. she locked me in a cage in the corner the timer on the cage was for 200 hours I wasn't allowed to speak or the timer would increase, I wasn't allowed out off mouse look either.

Then she spoke, just remembering her in this moments still makes me shiver, I actually hadn't been alone with her since the first auction over a year or so ago.

The thing she said to me drove me deeper and deeper into sub space, she was so powerful and controlling in those moments, she told me new rules on my behaviour and on how I was to greet her, she asked me things she had never done before and verbally humiliated me for dressing like a girl and having a hard cock and being a pathetic little loser with an ass that was hunger for cock, she told me that if I played my cards right she might step on my cock with her fabulous shoe or that if I was really good she might fuck my ass with her strap on dildo. She said I act like I have balls, an that I might have, but they were hers now. All this has me in a right state, I was ready to pass out my cock was so hard.

Then she said, I can hear you ass grumbling for cock now Carolina, to which I ought to have replying "yes Miss my ass is grumbling loudly for your cock" but instead and I regret this to this day, I said "I thought I could hear the plumbing".

This lead directly to my death in sl that day, I knew I had made a mistake straight way, I was desparately  trying to back track, saying sorry and I didn't mean it and that my ass really was hungry and so forth. But she was pissed, brought me to the top of the house threw me off at a few thousand feet and logged off.

That yanked me out of subspace and had me actually rolling around in rl shout fuck fuck fuck.

Anyway the story goes on but that's all for now.

The Wonderful Miss Lisa and Miss Maisy, by Leasha

The Wonderful Miss Lisa and Miss Maisy, by Leasha


Miss Lisa and Miss Maisy are wonderfully patient and great teachers when it comes to words with friends. I have been learning by observing the way Miss Maisy and Miss Lisa play the game.

They did not dumb down their words and in the beginning and as a result they both destroyed me on a regular basis winning by 30+ points. 3months down the line with great thanks to Miss Lisa and Miss Maisy’s examples, I can now find and utilise positions upon the bored with more accuracy and fill them with larger words that gain more points. Though  I do revert to slipping in naughty words like, shat, tits, moist, sex, sexiest, Lez and sexy quite often.

With the teaching of Miss Maisy and Miss Lisa, I can now win the games and inverted commas “beat them” which I know is supposed to fill me with remorse but actually to win something I have been beaten at so often is wonderful.

This would not have been possible without the wonderful Miss Lisa and Miss Maisy. Who have done this teaching in a modest and valiant way, as to teach me is a handful all of its own.
I shall endeavour to continue my development and each victory shall be thanks to the wonderful work of these two ladies.

Thank you Miss Lisa and Miss Maisy.

love and hugs Leasha xx

A Night Out Part 1 by Lady Tora

This was a fantasy I wrote for Jack, my partner  I have talked about in another confession.  We talked about this particular fantasy a lot and I had surprised him writing it out in elaborate detail and sending it in bits and pieces to him while at work.  Hope you enjoy.

* * * *  *

I get home Fri night expecting to find Jack kneeling at the door but he is not around.  I walk through the house wondering what trouble he has gotten himself into.  And instead of finding him tinkering with the kitchen sink or some other home improvement project, I find a note and a box on the bed in my bedroom.  I am confused; wondering what is with the “gift” considering it is not a holiday, special event, or anniversary that I can recall or think of.

Jack's note says that he has arranged a special night out for us and asks that I be ready by a certain time and to wear what is in the box.  The note also says that I am not to worry about bringing anything other than my purse as he has arranged and taken care of everything.  Part of me is not surprised as he arranged other nights out at the local dungeon and made sure my toy bag was already there.

I look at my watch and swear lightly; that gives me only about a hour to be ready to go out.  But before I rush off to the bathroom curiosity as always gets the better of me and  I open the box to see what Jack has picked out.  A dress and maybe even a new pair of shoes?  I laugh when I see the shoes on top.  Black patent shiny stiletto platforms with a skinny thin heel that I wonder how Jack expects me to walk in them.  I swear the man has a bigger shoe fetish than I do.

Next is a silk dress with spaghetti straps; the silk is so fine, it almost sheer and sure to cling to my curves.  It is a lovely shade of purple which he knows is my favourite colour.  There is a pair of matching panties and finally, under the dress is a box of jewelry; silver and amethyst earrings, and a matching necklace.  I think to myself that this is going to be interesting.  I ponder what Jack is up to as I shower and shave.  I slather on my favorite lotion and  perfume leaving me smelling like I normally do, oranges, and my skin silky smooth and soft.  My hair is still wet and I don’t have time to dry it without being late so I pile it on my head in an updo.

I put on the dress and go back to put on my make up, not really paying attention to how it fits or looks at this moment as I am more worried about being ready on time.  I put on the jewelry and shoes and sort of wobbly stand in front of the mirror.  I gasp as I see myself and think wow, Jack can sure pick out a dress.  The front is low, showing off the curves of my breasts and offering a glimpse of my belly.  I was right about the material being so sheer because you can clearly see my nipples.  The dress hugs my form, clinging to my hips acting more like a second skin than a dress.  It is short too; just touching my thighs, barely covering my ass.  Any slight movement and the material will ride up and I will flash the world all of my wares if I wasn't wearing the matching panties.

At this thought I grin to myself and slip the panties off.  Have always been a bit of an exhibitionist and this dress is the perfect opportunity for me to have some fun.  Plus I am going to really enjoy teasing Jack with a lot of look but can't touch play.  I stand there wondering how long I can torture him like that before he starts begging.

The doorbell rings and I go to the door expecting Jack, thinking to myself why doesn’t he just come in, and instead of Jack, I find a younger but sexy man with dark hair and bright blue eyes.  He is tall, lean, and tanned; obviously athletic of some sort.  He is dressed in a dark suit with white shirt and a matching tie.  He openly ogles me, licking at his lips as he takes in my barely dressed form.  His eyes roam over my body before I cross my arms over my chest and ask in a no-nonsense tone what is it that he wants.  His eyes snap to mine and he laughs, smiling.  “I want you but…” he drawls, clearly amused.  I narrow my eyes, the tone of my voice becoming almost a growl.  “But?” I ask.

“I am here to pick you up.”  He laughs again and I arch an eyebrow just looking at him.  He flashes me yet another stunning smile.  “Take you for a ride.”  He chuckles and shakes his head as I still don’t say anything; I am telling myself that I can’t kill him because someone must know he is here.  “I am your driver, Jake.”  He flashes me another amused look.

He moves slightly to the side and it is now that I see the town car behind him.  Sleek, black, with dark tinted windows; I know it will have rich dark leather seats inside without having to confirm.  I nod my head and flash him a stern look.  “I will get my purse.”

I am still holding my panties and it is too late for me to put them back on as Jake stands watching and waiting for me by the door. I stuff them in my purse and pick up my keys.  I look the door and Jake escorts me to the car clearly amused at my efforts to walk.  I keep wondering to myself if Jack is aware he hired an idiot; part of me thinks he does and did it on purpose probably hoping that I will take my frustrations and anger out on him.

Jake opens the door for me and stands holding it, watching me with interest.   I stand contemplating my options when he flashes me another amused look.  I flash him a pissed off look back but remind myself that I am suppose to be having fun.  Since Jack is not here to play look but can't have, might as well torment Jake.

I turn so I am facing Jake; holding the door, I lower my ass into the car, making the hem of the dress ride up, giving Jake full view of my thighs and pussy.  I sit for a moment with my legs wide, letting him hungrily take me in before I swing my legs in and pull the door shut.  I see him laugh and go around to climb in the driver seat.  “I can’t tell you where I am taking you, so don’t even ask.” He drawls before starting the car.

 To be continued…

Changes by Heather

On a sailboat, changes are crucial. If you change the sails, you change your course. If the rope attached to the sail, is too tight, it might slow you down, is the rope too lose, you might lose the wind all together. Sailing is about finding the perfect balance, between your course, your sails and the wind.

I'm the daughter of a sailor. I grew up on boats, they were my home, still are. I grew up learning to navigate through the curves and ripples of the water. I learned about the depths of the water and how a boat gets stuck once you stop paying attention. I learned how to tie knots and learned if the knot is wrong, you lose vital parts of the ship.

A life in many ways is comparable to a ship. Some boats glide through the water with great elegance, others stumble on the waves. And sometimes, you lose all balance and a ship capsizes.

When I was sixteen years old, we sailed to Croatia. I have seen up close how dolphins are protective. They jump over the ship as a warning to what lies ahead. I have learned if you ignore the warnings, death knocks on your window and takes you away. I have learned how important the radio network is. We were on the open sea, sailing, laughing, when we saw the other sailboat riding the waves like a fast car. My dad panicked, if the ship wouldn't alternate its course, it would be folded in half in our ship. There is nothing you can do, but let it happen and hope the other captain is paying attention. A ship can change course, but it takes hard work. Thankfully the captain saw what was about to happen and it changed course, right before it was about to hit us.

Changes are on the horizon and have been for a while. I am longing for the safety I feel on ships, for on the water, I have freedom. On land, no matter which course you seem to follow, there are always roadblocks ahead. It took me twentysix years and a lot of prodding from a certain Lady to make a big, life altering change. A change I desperately needed, but was too afraid to really start on. Now, I am doing it, I struggle with it daily, but I am doing it. Because I don't want the ship to run into me and kill me.

I have my radio network. I have my friends, I have my family, I can yell, I can cry, I can laugh and hide, but people will always be there to help me sail the ship through what lies ahead. And honestly, that feels good.

I am learning how to tie the knots, and tie them strictly, there is no room for mistakes. Mistakes are being corrected, no matter how many times I make them, until I stop making them. I am learning not to lose vital parts of my ship.

I am learning to feel safe on land. I am learning how to walk all over again. It might not be with great elegance yet, I might stumble and I fall, but I will get back on and try again.

This may not be a hot and steamy confession, but it is my way of saying thank you to my friends. To my twinnie, for always being there no matter what, for being my twinnie and my whole world, to Miss Zarita for always being there no matter how many times I fuck up, and occasionally give me the courage I need to go on. To Miss Destiny, who opens her house and her arms knowing how scared I am for the London meet. To Gia, who always has wise words and our little pact. To Madi, who makes me laugh even if we don't see each other a lot. To my friends who are there and keep my chin up.

My sailboat is finally on the right course and it feels right, it feels good.

Now, next week I am really writing my sappy, hot, erotic lesbian story cuz it's been too damn long!

Heather.

Anally Yours by Anonymous

Anonymous

The Call

Another call clicked in. "Hi, you're through to technical support, Matt speaking, how may I help?"

"Keep looking at your monitor, act normally," said the voice, "This is Caroline."

He almost froze, his line manager. What had he done to warrant a call from Her? Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Her at Her desk in the far corner, watching him.

"I've found you online," She said through his headset, "red head boy."

He felt his the blood rush to his face, his IC profile, how embarrassing! No, wait, She couldn't be sure it was him, his face wasn't on it.

"Tell me Matt, have you ever had a woman put her strap-on in your bottom?"

"No Ma'am," he stuttered, randomly tapping a few keys to look as though he was dealing with a regular call.

"Fingers and tongues?" She asked.

Just deny it he thought, but before he knew what he was doing he had replied "yes". She had this power, the look, and the tone, which could make anyone do anything without question nor hesitation.

"Hmmm... and what about anything bigger? Toys, things that happen to be lying around?"

"Yes Ma'am," he replied in his most professional tone, surprising himself with the way he had regained his composure, "although nothing too big."

"Nothing to stretch you, you mean?" Her voice said in his ear.

"That'd be correct Ma'am," was his response; now almost convincing himself it was a normal customer on the other end of the line, not his imposing boss.

"Well that will change. This Saturday, tomorrow, you are to come to my house. The usual work time. Bring your overnight things. And two other things besides, are you listening carefully?"

"Yes" he breathed.

"You are to shave yourself smooth around your genitals and between your buttocks. Secondly, you are not to masturbate at all, is that clear?"

"Of course Madam."

There was another click and the line went dead, but he carried on talking, for appearances.

"That's not a problem, I'll have the packaging delivered to you as soon as possible. Good bye."

Breathing out, his mind swam. He could feel himself hardening; strange as his foremost memory was of complete shock and terror! Without a glance at Caroline, he finished his shift, though he could almost feel Her eyes on him until he left the office.

...

Saturday dawned, and as per Her command, he arrived at Her house at 9am. The night before he had shaved himself smooth as She requested, squatting over a mirror so he could both see and reach between his buttocks, marveling at how his anus looked surrounded only by smooth soft skin. Throughout the temptation to take his constant erection in his hand had been almost impossible to fight off, and although he knew She would not know, he still couldn't bring himself to disobey Her. The power She held, it was incredible he mused. In the end, he had fallen asleep, his erection remaining until he stepped in to the cold shower as the day dawned.

Her house was large, set back from the road and behind a tall stone wall. Ivy climbed the walls of the house. Beautiful yet imposing, fitting, he smiled to himself. Pushing the doorbell, he stepped back from the door and waited. He had chosen to wear a plain black t-shirt, boxers and jeans. Keep it cool and casual; don't look nervous he had repeated to himself over and over. It seemed like hours had passed when the door opened and there She was. No less imposing for being removed from the work environment, in fact quite the opposite; Queen of all She surveyed. And right now, that was he.

"Come in," She said in Her sharp business-like tone, turning and walking back in to the house.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Nervous now, he knew this was it. He followed Her in to what was a large comfortable drawing room, where She had sat in an old green leather armchair, arms and legs crossed.

"Undress" She said.

He felt himself blushed, but Her look compelled him to act, and he slowly kicked off his shoes and socks, placing them neatly to the side. Next came his t-shirt, followed by his jeans. Sure he must now be bright red, he took in a deep breath, hooked his thumbs into his boxers, and pushed them to the floor. She didn't say a word, but beckoned him over with a finger, gesturing for him to stop when he stood directly before Her, legs shoulder width apart. Leaning forwards She reached out and took his penis in Her hand. He was amazed that even now, nervous and embarrassed as he was, it was semi-erect, and the warmth of Her palm caused it to stiffen still further.

Lifting his cock, She reached between his legs with Her other hand, taking his scrotum in to Her hand, squeezing it gently but firmly. Then She took each testicle in turn between thumb and finger and rolled it.

Looking up She spoke again, in Her commanding tone, "turn around, and bend over."
)))++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++}}}}}}



He did so, his cheeks red, heart racing. Suddenly, as he felt Her gaze upon him, he felt utterly exposed. She could see every part of him in minute detail, and as the cool air ran over his freshly shaved skin he shivered. He felt the tip of a nail on the small of his back, and She drew it slowly, oh so slowly, down between his buttocks. He couldn't help but gasp as She crossed his anus, then continued down his perineum.

Abruptly She stood. "Follow me," She commanded, and set off out the room and up a wide staircase.

He followed, painfully aware of his nakedness, mind racing; what was going to happen now, what did She want him for?

He followed Her in to a large bedroom, a king-sized oak bed dominating the room. She turned to face him, eyes taking him in,

"On the bed, on all fours. Face the headboard and don't move."

He climbed nervously on to the large soft bed, and positioned himself, his bottom facing Her. This is it he thought, the fantasy; he couldn't believe what was happening. Her voice came from behind him,

"Put a hand back between your legs."

He did so, and felt her apply something cool and slippery to his fingers; lube he realized.

"Get yourself ready," is all She said, and he flushed again, the humiliation!

Moving his fingers to his anus, he tentatively slid a finger in to himself, exploring the warm soft walls of his rectum. He placed the tip of a second finger against his hole and pushed it firmly in to join the first, feeling the walls of his bowels become slick with the lube. He pushed them in as deep as he could, then withdrew them, and placed his hand back next to the other, his anus closing up again, the light reflecting off the lube smeared around its entrance. Behind him, he heard Her pull down Her jeans and knickers in one movement, then the sound of Her stepping in to the strap-on harness. She moved on to the bed behind him, close up, the material of Her t-shirt brushing his skin.

Placing a hand on each of his buttocks, She pushed them apart, exposing and spreading his small puckered opening. For a brief moment he was struck by doubts; did he really want this?, but as soon as he felt the tip of the dildo push against his opening, he knew. As he felt Her pushing steadily in he moved back against Her, uttering a low moan as he felt the shaft sliding deep in to his rectum.

She didn't say a word as She began to fuck him. Building up the pace, She expertly, opened up his virgin body, until the full length of the strap-on was disappearing between his smooth buttocks and in to him. She got faster and deeper, holding his hips and encouraging him to move with Her, letting her right inside him. His rigid cock swung to and through as he pushed back to meet her every thrust, and he moaned deeply as he felt Her fill him. Together, their breathing quickened, and her grip on him got tighter, pulling him harder back on to Her, wanting every inch of the shaft in him. Finally She spoke;

"Yes, yes, yes," She repeated, rolling her hips as she came, grinding her clit into the base of the strap-on, forcing it right up inside of him.

As Her orgasm subsided, She stopped moving, and rested, the shaft lodged deep in his rectum. He uttered a deep moan as She slowly withdrew from him, he felt as though a part of him was being taken away. His rectum felt empty, unnaturally so, as if She belonged in him. He did not move until She instructed him to turn around and face Her

He moved on to his back to face Her. She had put her plain white cotton knickers back on, and was standing by the bed, a small silver dildo in one hand.

"Pull your knees up and apart," She instructed him, in Her usual business-like tone. Handing him the dildo, She continued,

"Masturbate for me, one hand on your cock, the other moving this in and out of your bottom."

He blushed, but her stance and tone had the same effect as during office hours, and he had to obey. He nervously moved the dildo to his exposed anus, pushing it gently inside, surprised at how easily his body accepted it; it's cool shiny length sliding easily in to his lubed hole. His other hand moved to his cock, and he was surprised again as he took it in his hand, it had never felt so stiff, throbbed so strongly, now he truly meant the meaning of 'rock hard'. Unable to tear his eyes away from Hers, he slowly began to masturbate, his hand moving steadily up and down his own shaft, while the smaller silver one he moved rhythmically in and out of himself. Her gaze moved to between his spread legs, taking in his genitals, buttocks and anus, and he felt himself hoping fervently that She was not disappointed, that he was pleasing Her, that She would deign to take him again.

The minutes passed by at a crawl, until finally he felt orgasm approach. A small smile played over Her lips as She noticed his balls tighten, his breathing quicken, but no more.

"Keep going," She uttered as he looked at Her questioningly, and he obeyed, his hand pumping his cock faster now, the small dildo a blur as he pushed it as deep as he could inside, pulled it out, and pushed it back again. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back and he neared the brink, the waves shooting through him of previously unimagined pleasure making his whole body feel on fire.

"Keep your eyes on me," She spoke again, and again as if he had no free will of his own, he looked back at Her, locking eye contact.

And so, as he came, his penis spasming in his hand, the muscles in his anus contracting tightly, he felt Her looking right in to his very soul, and he knew he was Hers.