Yet Another True Confession by Miss Vixie

M. has been sassing me for a week now. She lives in San Diego, a three-hour drive. She thinks she's safe. But, bwahahahah, she can't resist coming up to LA for a spanking now and then. I'll get my revenge...

M. is a t-girl like myself, but she's "finished." She's had all the surgery she wants, or that you can have, pretty much. She's tall, with long brown hair. She's a bit older than me; I was too young for Vietnam but she wasn't. She has killed a few people.

We managed to secure Threshold's Jail Room for the scene. She likes the overhead bar there. I, of course, am quite willing to accommodate her. We hug, then I order her to strip.

I place my wrist cuffs on her. Her wrists are big for a girl, but not as big as mine. She has full breasts, a nice face, and the usual t-girl lack-of-ass. Oh well, you can't have everything, I suppose. The fun thing about M. is, she laughs at low to medium pain levels. I don't mean she's being disrespectful, but those pain levels hit her in the giggle cortex. When she stops laughing, you know you must be hitting her pretty good.

I clip the cuffs to the overhead bar and take it up a bit. It's connected to a winch, with a switch built into the wall. She has me take it up a bit more, then a bit more still. Finally she is satisfied. I point her away from me. One of the advantages of the bar is it makes it easy to turn her around.

I grab my deerskin flogger; it's light and buttery-soft. perfect for warmups. I work over her shoulders for a while, then on down her back. I work on her butt a bit. She's literally feeling no pain. It's a tactile warmup; it will get the blood flowing.

On to the elkskin flogger. It's about the same softness as the deerskin, but muuuuuuuuuch heavier. It's whumpy. I work over her shoulders, work my way down her back. Her ass. I work my way back up, then back down again. She's in a little pain, but she's not even giggling yet. That will change soon.

I get out one of my best crops. Crops are a favorite tool of mine, as they're easy on my back. I can inflict a lot of pain with a simple flick of the wrist. I don't have to get my arm, and hence my back involved.

I start working over her ass. She starts giggling. We'll see how long she keeps that up, I think to myself. Still, this is just part of the warmup, really. She's a fairly serious pain slut; it will take quite a bit to satisfy her. I whack her ass again and again. She is not fazed. She's enjoying herself. "You hit like a girl!" she taunts.

I turn her around and take out my favorite nipple clamps. She has seen them before. She likes them. They're the kind that look vaguely like a C-clamp, with a setscrew. The challenge is to get them on tightly enough so they won't come off during play. I screw one on loosely, then tighten it a bit. Then some more. I let her get used to that, then give it a final tightening. She gasps, which is a good sign. I apply the other clamp in the same way.

Time for Mr. Crop again, but this time on the clamped nipples. A gentle tap causes quite a bit of pain. She likes it. Let's see what she thinks of a not-so-gentle tap...

I end up pinning her to the wall to keep her from writhing away. There's a small crowd in the aisle, watching. Hi, folks. We're here all week.

After ten or so minutes of this I'm tired of wrestling with her. Time for the canes. That will put her to bed. I've broken two canes over her behind in the past, so I make sure to select a solid, sturdy one. Nothing but the best for this ass.

A few exploratory whacks have her sighing and ahh-ing. No more giggling now.

"How many do you want?" I ask her. She says "Five."

Of course, I manage to mess up the count a couple times. She doesn't seem to mind.

When we get to the end of the "five", I ask her "Are you done yet?"

Nope, she asks for a few more. "Harder?" I ask. "Yes, please." She really is a pain slut, but I'm determined to get her to say "Uncle."

Whack! "Who hits like a girl now?"

"Not you!"

Whack! "Very good, dear."

Whack! "Another?"

"Yes, please."

Whack!! "Another?"

"Uh, yes. Please."

Whack!!! "Another?"

"Uh, I think that will do nicely. Thank you Ma'am."

"Sure thing dear."

I unclip her and we hug. End of scene, but I'll be seeing her again.

At The Helm: SL, Celery & Spring Rebirth - by Lady Danika

For no particularly good reason, I ate celery for breakfast this morning.  Except that perhaps some deep need in me was stirred last night and again this morning to take back control of my life -- to come back to the helm and steer myself away from oblivion and back into the center of the glimmering sea which once rose about me in undulating waves.

My daughter came to me last night, and pressed the pads of her small fingers against the underside of her arm and said, "I have grandma flaps." And she frowned.

She's a twig really. But at the tender age of nine, she already knows the power of appearances in this world.

When I look in the mirror, I'm usually content, save for my c-ankles.  Yes, c-ankles.  You know... where your calves and ankles have no defining separation?  Oh for the slender ankles of Victorian times, framed by the embroidered hem of an ivory petticoat above a small, buttoned boot.

Oh, I've tried it all -- soup only diets, running till my knees collapsed -- hell, I even own a set of electronic food scales that measures item weights down to the gram.  And I use it.  Every day.

Control nut?  Perhaps.

I think that's why we like SL.  In RL, we often wait on the deck of the boat while others steer the ship.  They stand at the helm like immobile boulders, taking with them all our control... steering the journey as we wait for a turn at the wheel which may never come.   Here, within the pixel realm, we are captain of our ship.

Not only can I make my avatar look as I want (skinny, athletic, voluptuous, fairy, dragon, wolf, you name it...) but I can shape my world. I can choose my family and my friends and my coworkers with a freedom that Real Life can never offer.  And I can mute the people who annoy me.  (Although, in looking at my mute list, I see that the only things there are two fountains on a sim I frequent... listening to them disturbs my bladder.)

Move furniture?  Yes! I can!  Change clothes in public without taking off the previous outfit? You bet!  Fly? Of course!

Sure... my avatar explores SL as a reflection of me, but that is not the only appeal.  She is my ship -- and my mind and my heart are at the helm. The real world is sometimes governed by circumstance and fickle Fate -- we can't control things like health conditions handed down by genetics for example. And Second Life offers the chance to control things in a way that real life sometimes just does not offer.  And so perhaps the real appeal is just that: risk with safety.  In SL,  I can fall... and fail.  And in the end, these pixels are expendable. Do they feel? Hell yes. They feel, or rather *I* may feel as me within them, but they do not breathe... and a Spring Rebirth is always a possibility.

"Previously on The Walking Dead" by Lady Nej

"Previously on The Walking Dead" by Nej

Rick sighs deeply as he watches Carl teach Baby Judith how to throw rocks at stuff across the camp. There was a time when he would have put a stop to such things, but these days, knowing how to aim a rock may save her life. He turns over in the tent, just in time to catch Darryl putting his pants back on. He grins. "Does Michonne know you've got those?" They both kneel as Michonne enters the tent, Darryl getting slightly tangled in his pants. She tips him over. "It's not me he needs to worry about." Darryl spots Carol at the fire and rushes out of the tent, grabbing at pants and crossbow as he goes. Rick tries not to giggle. Michonne snorts "Men wearing pants indoors, what is this world coming to." She eyes Rick up and down. "You have exactly 5 minutes to clean up, cum and meet me by the fire dressed and ready to hunt. I suggest you get started." She gives a low chuckle as she exits the tent, leaving Rick scrambling to comply....

Darryl wordlessly helps Carol gut and spit the freshly caught squirrels. "I know it was just you and Rick for a long time. And I understand that you needed the cuddles," she looks at him sideways and notes the blush starting at the tips of his ears. "Rick is a good cuddler; I'll give you that." They wordlessly continue prepping breakfast for a few minutes. "What did you use for lube out here anyway?" Darryl grins and points to the can of squirrel drippings. She wrinkles her nose in disgust, then tchs in exasperation at the grin, "Dammit, Darryl, do I need to put you in a cage?" He shakes his head, "No ma'am." Carol cuts the testicles off a particularly big male squirrel and tosses it into the fire where it sizzles before it burns. Darryl pales. She says softly, "Good boy."

Somewhere in the forest, a man in a Hazmat suit cleans off his weapons and walks away from the pile of walker corpses lying around him. He thinks about the past, and one face keeps floating to the surface. All evening long, as he removes the helmet, makes a safe camp and prepares his meager supper the face remains in the forefront of his consciousness, like a beacon in the night.... Rick. Rick. As Morgan drifts off to sleep one thought burns in his breast.. Rick.... I will return to you .. and your sweet, sweet hiney......

A Love Like No Other by Anonymous

I never felt a love
like this before
it's a love  like no other
something i have always hoped for

A love with friendship
humor and heart
a bond so strong
it would never part

A love that makes you smile
from ear to ear
A love that is joyful
without any fear

A love that is beautiful from the inside out
A love with no tears,
pain, or doubt

A love that of submission
collared as your boy
A love that of slavery
I am your pet toy

A love with soul
so tender and true
A love that I only have found
only in you

this is my love for Mistress Nathalie

For Fucking Carl Shit Wit (Carl Colberts) by Anonymous

There's someone I know
Who I really can't stand
I wish he would bury his
Head in the sand or
Move to the moon or
Deeper out of space
Whenever I see him
I make a weird face
Today during recess
Outside the yard
He suddenly gave me
A valentine card
I wish that he hadn't
It made me upset
It was the prettiest one
I could possible get

For Lady Holly by Anonymous

Control, and barely touching, that is You
A few words are enough to capture me
To put me in place is not hard for You
Molding me in a shape You want me to be

But that is still a wish, I like to keep alive
Dreaming of freedom in captivity
I am not that far yet, I know I need to strive
Practicing in not clinging and flexibility

For me it is not about goals or destinations
It is walking along unexpected paths, experience sensations
Supporting each other on bumpy roads even too
I hope there will be more days I can follow You

For Lady Tanarra by Anonymous

You are the sunshine in my SL life; I know i cant be here as much as i would like but when i am here and see You i feel my life fulfilled. Five roses to You on ST Valentines day.