Collaring...(Jane)

Collaring...

My dream, to have Him
My dream, to know Him
My dream, to give myself to Him
My dream, to be part of the soul of a family
My dream, to explore deeper self
My dream, to have sisters, to complete
My dream, Has come true.......

don't love me (nikki)

Don't love me

Sure, I like it
You are always happy to see me
Make time for me
Notice the little things:
new haircut, new dress, sparkle in my eye
Happy for my success
Proud of me, even in my failure.

But no
Don't love me

Don't obligate me
Let me be selfish
Come to You when I wish
Not because You are waiting

Please
Don't love me

Let me run from man to man,
None of them important
None of them irreplaceable
If one isn't interested-
there's a thousand more

Oh, please
Don't love me

Don't make me want more than I can have
Or ask me for more than I can give
I need safety and security,
my children and my parents
security for the long run
That which You can't give

No
Don't love me

Take me
Fuck me
Use me
Shove Your cock down my throat for my pleasure
But don't hold me in Your arms and whisper sweet nothings in my ear
Don't warm my soul and then send me home
Please
Don't love me

Let me yearn for You
Wish, hope, want
Let me fantasize and imagine
Stay steady, just beyond my grasp

But no
Don't love me
Look at me with cold, dispassionate eyes
Evaluate me
Assess me
Give me the truth

Want me, but no
Don't love me.
What happens if You do?
Then what?
We keep wanting more
More
More
At some point, there is no more
Then what?
We have to stop?

Oh please. Please.
Don't love me

waxing for Master (nikki)

decided to go take care of a little personal grooming since today was
a slightly less intense day... went to my favorite little vietnamese
salon. always a little erotic, but knowing that i'm going to share it
with you adding a whole new dimension...

started with eyebrow waxing. In a little room, lying on a contoured
table, my lower back supported. beautiful (but not very friendly,
kind of sturn actually) vietnamese woman hovering over me, gently
touching my face, smoothing my eyebrows. I try to relax as she brings
scissors close to my eyes, touching and trimming the longer hairs.
it's actually quite relaxing.

then it is time for the wax. she applies it with a little wooden
stick, like a tongue depressor... goes on HOT, on the edge of feeling
like it is burning me. then tightening. actually feels kind of nice
as it cools, like a hug. And then she takes a little piece of cloth
and pushes it into the wax rubbing. this feels good too. gentle
pressure.

but then... she has to rip the wax off! ooo, it hurts! a ripping,
burning feeling. can feel the spot where each root has been ripped
from the skin. and the pain lingers. she presses her hand down,
helps a little, but it is still intense. breathe into it. and she's
moving on to the next spot, coating with the hot wax, rubbing...

and then she is done and it is time to do the bikini area. i've been
shaving the lips, but the mound gets razor burn really easily, so I
prefer waxing. and I want to look pretty for you for Monday... i've
been letting it grow for about a week, it's long enough now.

I mention that it was lopsided last time and she says "it's better if
you take underwear off..." in her pidgen English. it's true, last
time she just pushed my panties to the side, my legs open in a diamond
shape... but now she wants me to spread myself, exposed.

I think of you, and how much you will enjoy me describing the whole
experience and I remove my panties.

but the description will have to wait... i'm typing with my thumbs and
I have run out of time...

Imagining you waiting to hear the rest… hard at work… thinking of me,
as I described… mmmm.

Sooo, where was I. Oh, yes, I had just removed my panties. So I take
them off, lie back down on the table, legs spread, feet together, open
(but not totally open, just a little open)…

She takes a handful of baby powder and rubs me with it, professional,
but still shocking to feel somebody touch me there… her hand warm and
firm, the flesh feeling springy under her touch. She touches the
mound, but also moves further down, applying powder to my lips, not
really spread, but slightly parted. I breathe into the experience,
recording each sensation and feeling in my mind.

I can see her examining me, looking at the length of the hairs,
deciding how to best apply the wax. She is business like, unsmiling.
Stern, yes. She turns away to get the first application of wax, and I
lie there, acutely aware of how exposed I am, what this must look
like. How close this is to my fantasy.

And then the hot wax is going on. She has one hand on my inner thigh,
holding the flesh away from the crease, the other applying the wax
right at the edge, where my leg goes into my crotch. Hot. Doesn't
feel quite as hot as on my face, but the warmth is seeping into me.
Again the warmth feels good – although the anticipation of the pain
makes it hard to enjoy. Then she is rubbing, pushing the cloth into
the wax with her fingers, creating a solid bond, getting ready to rip
it. Strange feeling, the rubbing. So intimate, so personal. My
whole body moving as she pushes into my crotch… hmmm, what does THAT
evoke????

And then the first rip. Ooooo. Even more painful than on my face.
Feels like the hairs are being ripped out of my uterus. Blinding red
pain. Breathe into it. Relax into it. Let it wash over me. Think
of it as a gift. She is holding her fingers to the spot she ripped,
applying pressure, soothing it. Again, a strange feeling to have her
fingers there, me open, exposed. Objectified. That's what it is, she
is professional, and I am just an object to be worked on, repaired,
perfected.

She is moving on. My thoughts and reactions unimportant to her, she
has a job to do. She applies wax to the whole right side, ripping it
off in small sections, going back to get stray hairs. Her hip presses
into my left leg, naked and bent, the knee close to her as she moves.
She puts her hand on my knee as she leans over to apply more wax,
concentrating on what she needs to do.

And then… then she is moving down the table, her hand is on me. And I
realize she is spreading me! Spreading my cheeks and looking.
Noticing those hairs I mentioned seeing in the mirror. And she is
applying wax next to my anus. She's ripping those hairs out. And
putting pressure where the hairs were for a moment until the pain
subsides. Incredible feeling of exposure. Intimacy. This thing that
I didn't even know about… and now she's examining the spot, finding
the hairs, and removing them. Painfully to boot.

I can imagine what she is seeing. My anus, pink, puckered. My labia.
She can see the opening of my vagina. I am holding myself open. And
she can touch me. Is touching me. I am thankful that I DIDN'T cum
before I left the office… I'm thinking about the idea of someone
being able to know how aroused this makes me, without me knowing they
know… visible arousal is not something women usually need to deal
with. That's part of my fantasy… but I can share more about that
later.

Back to what was going on there… She rapidly moves to complete the
task. Has examined and addressed my entire pubic area. She takes one
more look, then squirts oil on her hand and rubs it into the irritated
skin, holding one thigh open. Ooooo. I knew it was coming, that's
part of the process (she did it on my eyebrows too), but really!!

She says, "all done" and I look down to see my poor, red, tortured
skin. Close my legs, sit up. And get dressed.

Confession (nikki)

Confession

I like to be a good girl. To please my Master by following His
commands. Doing everything He has instructed me.

This is one of the core elements of our relationship. I love His
control and His guidance. I love how specific it is. No guess work
about what will make Him happy. Just very concrete tasks. Very
explicit. Very controlling. In fact, I love it so much, I beg Him
for more. Suggest new ways He can influence me.

So now there are a lot of ways I can please Him but also a lot of
ways I can fall short. There are so many little things I can do wrong
or fail to do. So many ways to fuck up!

The temptation to lie about my compliance is always there. So
many of the things He requires are things that are done outside
His physical control. How would He know if I broke the rules and
had a small piece of chocolate at my desk at work? If I used the
toilet without permission? If I had a quick e-mail exchange, behind
his back, with my friend Robert? If I put my panties on halfway
through the day, without telling him? How would He even know if
I had a little online fling with somebody else? I could "please"
Him, without actually having to change my behavior at all.

At the beginning, I would follow His instructions when it pleased me.
When I felt like it. I would sometimes go behind His back. Or tell
Him that of course I had performed a ritual for Him, when I hadn't.
Or be in IM with someone else when I was frustrated that our
conversationwas slow or He was talking about something that
didn't interest me much.

In short, I behaved the way I have always behaved. Using small
untruths to smooth over conflict. Lying in the hopes my false answers
would be more pleasing than the truth. Giving what I thought the
other wanted, rather than what I was able to give.

When I was a child, this was the most successful strategy with my
controlling but detached parents. And it was also a successful
strategy at work. I never lied out of malice, or with the intent of
hurting somebody else. But I would regularly lie to make others
happy. Or at least to do what I thought would make others happy.
Exaggerate a story for effect. Tell someone what I thought they
wanted to hear. Flatter.

Master caught me a couple of times. He'd punish me. Gag me so I
couldn't tell any more lies. Or, once, in Second Life, stage a "virtual"
public beating; humiliating me and forcing me to look at the impact of
my behavior.

But it was driving a wedge between us. He needed to know the truth.
He needed to know that I was not holding anything back. And He needed
me to know that He loved the truth of me, not just the image I wanted
to project. That He loved my failures, not just my successes. He
loved my efforts and my contrition. He owned all of it.

So He needed to know about every failure. Every lapse. Every
misstep. Every omission. Every impulsive act. Every struggle.

Sometimes I am able to share those in the moment. To say, "Oh Master.
This is hard for me." or "Oh, Master, I made a mistake. I forgot.
I neglected to give You Your due. I failed."

But more often, I fail quietly. And then it is awkward to bring it
back up. The moment never seems right to tell Him that I have
disappointed Him. I don't want to have to tell Him at all.

So Master instituted daily confession. This is a structured time. A
moment of our day where we step back and I share all of the ways I
have fallen short. I tell Him the complete and unvarnished truth.
Even my temptations. I share my feelings. What I was thinking in the
moment. What led to the failure, and how I coped with it. My fears
about His reaction. And my hopes. I share it all with Him. Hand it
over to Him. And beg Him for absolution.

Sometimes He makes me do penance. Has me redo the task, or do a
harder one. Sometimes He gives me some pain to help me focus away
from my failure and towards something I can give Him. Sometimes He
just gives me absolution right there. Sometimes He asks me to help
Him to identify the right penance and to participate in meting it out.
Sometimes He just gives it to me.

I always feel better afterwards. Clean. Refreshed.

He knows I want to do better. He knows I strive to obey Him in all
things. So He accepts my weakness as human. Takes it into Him. Owns
it. Owns me.

My confession makes us closer. More intimate. It tightens our bond.
And it gives Him lots of information about how to better guide me, how
to be a more thoughtful and considerate Master.

It also just turns both of us on.

Finally, (Canary)

Finally after two years.
Paths never quite crossing.

Finally after two Masters.
We meet face-to-face.

Finally quashing the silly dance between us.
Our pasts helping us learn and grow.

Finally you give me your aspirations.
And I hope to please every desire.

Finally you smile down upon me.
And I feel your warmth.

Finally gaining wonderful sisters.
Hoping to make them very happy.

Finally wearing your collar.
A snug reminder around my neck.

Finally at your feet.
And it feels like home.

Story (Michelle)

He groaned deep in his throat, crushing her against his body and thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She melted into his embrace; her breath becoming his and his breath becoming hers. Her head was swimming from the passion of his kisses and gave everything she had inside of her to him; letting him do what he will.

She was so lost in the intensity of their kiss, that she did not notice his hand slide down from the back of her head and gently cup her breast. He measured the weight of the soft flesh in his hand for a moment before squeezing it to get her attention. A loud gasp escaped from her throat as she pulled her lips away from him. Her eyes glazed over in passion, as she looked down into his. A lopsided smirk graced his lips as he squeezed her breast again.

"Whose breast is this?" he asked hoarsely as he took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Your's, Master," she whispered brokenly.

He pinched her nipple between his two fingers, pulling on it gently. "Whose is it?" he asked again.

She practically cried out as he pinched harder, "Your's, Master."

Twisting and tugging at her nipple until it was pointing out proudly, he smiled to himself again.

He leaned forward slightly, his nose burying in her lavender scented hair. Breathing deeply, he savored the scent of her hair; one of his favorite smells. Then he whispered hotly in her ear, "It is mine, isn't it baby? Mine to play with whenever I want?"

"Yes, Master," she gasped again.

She felt the heat from his hand travel down her body and pooling in liquid heat between her legs. As much as she wanted to squeeze her legs together, she resisted knowing that her Master would notice such movements.

Without much warning, he released his grip on her breast and placed his hands on her hips, turning her gently until she was straddling his hips. His thumbs gently stroked the soft skin of her thighs as he looked up at her, contemplating what he was going to do to her next.

She waited with baited breath as she felt his large warm hands on her thighs. His slow motions worked their way lazily until he was massaging the top of her bare mound. She shuttered, remembering how methodical she had been in her grooming. There was no doubt in her mind that he was going to notice how clean and smooth she was. Her breath caught in her throat as one of his hands moved lower yet. His thumbs were lightly stroking over her downy smooth pussy lips before allowing one finger to graze her sensitive swollen clit. The rest of his fingers wound their way around her whole pussy. Cupping it in his hand, he squeezed his hand, pressing his thumb harder against her clit. She could not control the long moan that escaped from her parted lips.

"And this is my pussy too. Isn't it, my slave?" He encouraged her as he squeezed his hand again, feeling the moisture against his palm.

"Ahhh! Yes, Master!" she cried out as he slipped a single finger passed her lips and into her molten core.

Her body was on fire; all she was aware of was his long finger inside her tight wet pussy. He tested her wetness, collecting the moisture on his finger. She was more than ready for him, but he would not let his thoughts drift down in that direction just yet. He wanted her to beg for it. She contracted her muscles squeezing his finger deep inside her; when he slowly started to pull the finger out.

He chuckled softly at her reluctance to let him go as he lifted his wet finger to her lips. Pressing it against her lips, he encouraged her to take it into her mouth, to taste herself on his finger. More than happy to obey she parted her lips, sucking the finger into her mouth. Sucking and licking his finger clean, she felt his hardness pressing against her inner thigh.

As discreetly as she could, she wiggled her hips slightly, pressing against his growing bulge a little more.

He raised his free hand up to her breast again, giving it a little squeeze.

"Soon, love, soon," he whispered as he watched his finger disappear into her mouth again. "I bet you would like something bigger in your mouth. Wouldn't you, baby?"

"Yes, Master," she replied breathlessly when he pulled his finger out of her mouth.

"On your knees," he ordered softly.

She slid down his body until she was kneeling between his parted legs. Watching with wide eyes and her red lips parted, as he unbuttoned his shirt and throw it to one side. His hand then traveled downward, undoing his buckle and unzipping his pants. Her eyes became transfixed on his big beautiful cock the second he pulled it out of his pants.

He could clearly see the hunger in his eyes, while he lounged back in his chair, lightly stroking his cock. He was teasing her and he knew it; he knew how much she wanted this.

"Come love, and taste your Master's cock."

In an instant she was leaning forward, bracing her bound wrists on the front of the chair, her tongue coming out to flick across the tip of his cock. She wrapped her lips around the head, sucking every so gently, as he pushed her hair back from her face. He twisted the lush brown hair around his hand, guiding her motions, showing her exactly how he wanted to be sucked.

Following his lead, she sucked and licked his cock. Moving her head down to take more of him into her mouth before rising up again. Down and up, down and up, setting a slow pace as she pulled her cheeks in to suck harder on his growing cock. She loved having his cock in her mouth, feeling him swell against her tongue, tasting the pre-cum that was leaking from the tip.

He groaned low in his throat as he felt his cock begin to pulse in her mouth. Tightening the grip in her hair, he pushed her down all the way, thrusting his cock into the back of her throat, cutting off her air. He held her there for a moment, feeling her throat convulse around his hard cock. Using her hair as leverage, he pulled her up off for a brief moment to let her catch her breath before forcing her head back down.

Completely helpless to do anything but suck, she tried to loosen her throat as much as she could as he thrust in and out of her throat.

Lost in his own passion, he started to mutter as his hips bucked off the chair. "You like that, baby?" His voice was deep and husky. "Your Master's cock in your mouth, his hand in your hair? Choking on his big thick cock? Fucking your face, like he wants to fuck your pussy. You want your Master's cock in your pussy, don't you, my slave?"

His words washed over her and all she could do to respond was to moan loudly around his cock. Even with such a subtle hint, he got his answer and after a few more hard strokes, he pulled her head off his cock.

Closing her eyes, she gasped for air and raised her bound wrists to wipe the drool off her chin. Her heart was racing, pounding in her chest and her feelings were everywhere. However, nothing could stop that slow ache that was building in the pit of her stomach.

Strong arms then enveloped her and lifted her off of her aching knees. Her eyes snapped opened and she looked up at her Master's face, but only could get a glimpse before being gently laid on the bed. She turned her head to one side, watching him move his long graceful form over to the small table on the side of the bed. Grasping the box with her name on it he came back down to the end of the bed. Placing the box down by her feet, he took a step back to admire her.

Her bound wrists over her head lulled to one side, her dark brown hair spread out over the cream colored sheets, her lush red lips slightly parted, and her dark eyes smoldering with lust. His gaze then traveled down her slender neck, admiring the way his collar fit so perfectly. Then down her shoulders, until his eyes fixed on her round breasts, nipples hard, as they rose and fell with each of her ragged breathes. His eyes then found her visibly wet pussy between her creamy white thighs.

With a low growl he knelt down on the bed, and lowered his head between her legs. A shudder ran down her spine when he blew cool air against her hot engorged clit. Pushing her thighs open more, he used two fingers on his right hand to spread her labia and expose her clit more. He ran the flat of his tongue over the entire length of her pussy, pausing at the top to lick her clit.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, when his tongue came in contact with her clit. Panting heavily, she felt the wet heat in her pussy grow and ooze. His tongue was merciless on her clit, sucking, licking, flicking it. When he got it hard and throbbing, he reached with one hand and took it between his two fingers. He rolled it gently and the fingers on his other hand were stroking her soaking wet lips. With all the will she could muster, she tried not to buck her hips up, when he started pinching her clit.

"Breath, my slave," he whispered gently as he stroked her thigh. "Take the pain and the pleasure as I pinch your little clit."

She took several long deep breaths between moans as he pinched harder. Then suddenly he was gone, the pressure on her clit eased up until all she felt was an empty throbbing. Opening her eyes to see where her Master had gone, she saw him leaning over her box.

"Master?" she whispered hoarsely.

He looked up at her with an evil glint in his eye and pressed his finger to his lips. She settled back down, still wondering what he could be up to.

His grinning face came back into her field of vision when he leaned over her. Kissing her forehead, her nose, each eye, he traveled down before taking her lips into a sweet kiss. This was enough to distract her from what he had taken out of her box and where his hands could possibly be. She felt something cold squeeze one of her nipples and then the other. It wasn't until he pulled his head away did she realize that he had attached her nipple clamps snuggly. With an evil grin, he gave the chain that connected the clamps a little tug, causing a moan to rip from her throat.

"That's a good girl. You look so pretty with your nipple jewelry." He leaned down and kissed her again. "Get on your hands and knees, baby," he urged her.

She slowly rose up and rolled over. Leaning on her bound wrists, she spread her legs, her hot pussy hanging open in the cool air of the room. He positioned himself behind her, leaning over her and gave her clamps another little tug.

His warm large hands started gently stroking her round upturned ass. A loud resounding slap was delivered to her right cheek and then the left. She moaned loudly as he stroked her hot opening with one of his fingers as he slipped it inside of her. After several long thrusts of his finger, he added a second, scissoring her tight opening. She leaned her head down on her forearms, and bit her lower lip.

He leaned over to her box again, and pulled out the lube and anal plug inside. Taking his wet fingers out of her pussy, he pressed them against her asshole as his other hand caressed her butt to help her relax.

"Let me in, love," he whispered as he pushed the one wet finger and then the other into her tight asshole.

Popping the top off the lube, he poured a little bit on his fingers as he slowly worked them in and out of her. She felt so full with his fingers up her ass and then a gapping emptiness when he pulled them out. More cool lube was poured on her asshole, before he started pushing the plug into her. He did not stop until the whole toy was up inside of her and the flared base pressed against her butt cheeks.

"So pretty," he cooed as leaned forward and unclamped her nipples. He gently rubbed the feeling back into them. "Are you ready, my slave?"

"Yes, Master," she breathed heavily. Her ass was so full and her nipples aching.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded as he positioned himself at her hot wet opening.

"I want your cock in my pussy, Master," she gasped out as he pushed the head into her cunt.

Teasingly, he pulled it out again. "Want more?" he taunted her.

"Yes, Master! Please!" she begged, trying to move her hips back.

He held her hips in place so she couldn't move. "Please what?"

"Please fuck me, Master. I want your cock so bad," she pleaded.

With a wide grin, he was more than happy to comply. Rubbing the tip against her opening getting it nice and wet, before he pushed it inside her pussy. He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of her hot cunt. Pushing in a little more, then out and in a little more with each thrust of his hips until he was completely buried inside of her.

They moaned together at the feeling of being so deeply connected. Ever so slowly, he pulled out of her almost completely before pushing back in, setting a slow teasing pace. His hands gripped her hips, pushing her back against him as he thrust. Slowly he started to pick up speed, moving fast and harder in and out of her.

He ground himself against her. "You like that, slave? You like the way your Master fucks you?" he asked, smacking her ass again.

"Yes Master!" she moaned loudly.

This encouraged him more picked up the pace. Thrusting and grinding, fucking his little slave. She loved the feeling of his hot hard cock inside of her, using her, fucking her the way he wanted.

"Are you my little whore? My little bitch?" he demanded loudly, as he slowed a bit to give her the chance to answer.

"Yes Master," she answered quietly between moans.

"Louder!" He gripped the end of her butt plug and gave it a twist.

"Yes Master!" she cried out.

They moaned and grunted together as he worked his cock in and out of her pussy. Just as he felt her reaching her peak, he pulled out completely.

She moaned in protest, wondering why he was stopping. This only lasted for a moment, until he pulled on her butt plug. He pulled it almost out but then back in. As he started to slowly fuck her with the toy, he massaged a good amount of lubricant mixed with her pussy juice on his cock. He dripped a little bit more on her asshole after he pulled the plug out.

Gripping her ass cheeks hard in each of his hands he spread them apart and pressed the head of his cock against her gapping opening.

"Ready for me to fuck your ass, my little slave?"

"Yes Master," she groaned out.

He pushed forward slowly at a constant pressure until he was buried completely in her ass. He groaned loudly, feeling her muscles close tightly around him. She screamed out in pleasure as he fucked her harder and faster. Her asshole burned and stretched to accommodate his huge throbbing member.

She felt so good around him and he felt his climax approaching. He reached around her and pressed his thumb against her clit.

"Gonna shoot hot white cum deep in your ass, baby," he grunted as he bucked his hips faster. "Cum with me, love."

She bit down hard on her lower lip, crying out as her orgasm ripped through her. His orgasm echoed hers as he shot loads of hot cum into her ass. Thrusting his hips a couple more time to make sure his cum was buried deep inside her.

He fell over on the side of the bed and pulled her trembling form into his arms.

"My wonderful little slave," he whispered against her hair as she nuzzled her nose into his neck.

"Oh, Master," she sighed softly.

He pressed her fully against his side, holding her tight and close. Leaning over he softly kissed her forehead.

hot dream (Maryam)

I had a dream about you last night,
oh how everything seemed so right...
together we were having so much fun,
seeing your bright smile so clear to me,
with your eyes so horny as can be...

Imagination your touch and kiss,
a hot dream so real to me...
to hold you close and feel your love,
was so tender and sweet from above...
Your hands on my breast
My nipple was hard
Your cock in my throat
My pussy was warm
You looked at me with hunger
I licked your cock with desire
You pushed your cock with so power
I tasted your cum with so warmth

I did not want to wake and have it end,


Is it wrong to feel this way,
about a dream that occurs every other day...
touching my pussy playing with my clit,
touching your penis playing with your cock
rubbing your cock on my ass
touching my clit with my hands
rubbing your cock on my cunt
pushing your cock with so tight
feeling my cunt so much warmth
holding my breast with your hands
pushing me down with so strict
I like your force it makes me lean

happiness I'm searching for and hoping to find...
a dream I love it seems so real,
that each time I wake I do feel...

The warmth in my belly a smile on my face,
because I've found true happiness some other place...
not complaining nor will I ever deny,
the feeling that's coming upon I...
for now it's just a dream to me,
in a far away world I do for see...

Despise (Maryam)

Despise/disregard
I am not jealous
Not feel jealousy
Just think I am underling one
Yes/yes, I know I am a slave
I am proud that
But
Why Master never see me
Ahhhh
I know he is so busy
But
I need his Love,
His Tent
And his Body.
Alack…
His time is limited
And I am not enough slick to keep him near
My body is warm
Nipple is hard
Pussy is wet
But he should be go
And I can just imagine his cock
Despise…
.
.
.
Love master so much
Worship him like a IDOL
He is my master & I am his slave
I should not feel slight
Even he don’t tent me and my need.

Jealousy/Submission/Desire (nikki)

Jealousy/Submission/Desire

It starts as a twinge
A realization
He did that
Not with me
With her
A twinge
That flows down to my belly
Expands
Dark and black
Threatens to erupt through the top of my head
Anger
Hurt
Jealousy
He did that
Not with me
With her
The pain washes through me
I want to flee
I want to hit
I want to scream
But I am His slave
I close my eyes
He wants this
It is for Him
This is His desire
His joy
His girl
I am also His girl
I have chosen this
I let it flow out of me
Let the submission descend like a blanket
Calm
Warm
Take me
Center me
Hold me
Show me that I can
And I do
I listen
I watch
I accept
I take it
Like a blow from his belt
Like His cock in my throat
Like His fist in my ass
I take it
And I feel the humiliation of it
The submission
The obedience
I am His girl
I take it
The familiar warmth
Spreads out froom my core
My cunt
Opening wet, hot
Desire
Washing over me
I am His girl
I take it
I love it
I am His girl
I am owned
This is what I do

I love being owned (nikki)

I love being owned

Anxiety
Worry
I let them go
I can move on
Not turn them over and over in my mind
I make mistakes
I confess them
They are over
I can move on
Not turn them over and over in my mind
I have choices
I give them to Him
He makes up His mind
I can move on
Not turn them over and over in my mind
I have goals
I disclose them
He sets tasks for me
I can move on
Do what needs to be done
Not worry it over and over in my mind
I am selfish
I give my obedience to him
He commands me to obey
I put him first
I can move on
Not worry it over and over in my mind
He takes me whole
He takes pride in me
He looks at me with hunger
He uses me in joy and in pain
He calms me and centers me
He makes me a better person
I love being owned

Ceremony Poem (Maryam Davies)

I am your Slave of Love,
Chain me to your bed,
Hands so tightly up above,
Loath my fragile body red.
I'm here to accept all you say,
All your thoughts and troubles,
Even though from me you turn away,
When my blood curdles and bubbles.
I once spoke of love,
Truly only the love I give to you,
Down my throat my fist has been shoved,
It's over, it's done, theres nothing left for me to do.
Turn me upside down,
Shake away my emotions,
Toss far away this crown,
My apathy could fill an ocean.
I am your Slave Of Love,
You are my only antidote,
I am your Slave Of Love,
Yet all I wish is that you choke. (me)

ceremony day (Maryam Davies)

Lowered eyes
Humbled spirit
The slave dropped to the ground
And said . . . .

"Awake,
and in sleep,
In Life,
and when death speaks my name

I feign to be shackled to your blackness.
To serve at your feet.
To massage the kinks under your crown.
To dry the summer sweat from the nape of your neck
with cool subtle breezes whirling through my lips.

Awake,
and in sleep,
In life,
and when death speaks my name

I will plead with you, my dusky Master
to guide me
along your slopes, low plains
and dangerous curves.
My soul's purpose is to learn
your body -- my cartography.

Awake,
and in sleep,
In life,
and when death speaks my name

I will drink the tears that drip
from the hills of your cheeks
if they shall come.
I will sip from your valley
to quench my thirst,
replenish my energy,
only to strengthen my will
to serve you.

Open Letter To the Family of Master Durn Trilling

ATTN: Durn Trilling's family

RE: Durn Trilling's Praises

I met your Master Durn Trilling when I was still very new in SL. He intrigued me, as well as helped me understand and gain knowledge, and items, for my future in any master/slave relationship I may choose to be in. Yes, he persued, ( but not as much as I had in the beginning) and yet, left me to fully decide which way I would choose to go....whether it be with him or not. for this I will always have a deep and abiding respect for him.

Your Master Trilling is truly a wise and patient man. He has tutored me in many things in SL, and yes, even persuing me to join your wonderful family. He is a very persuasive and impressive man on many levels!! I do have to tell you that I have been more than tempted, on more than one occassion, to submit fully to this incredible specimen of a man!!! For every time I turn around he reveals yet another incredible facet of his love and devotion to you, his family!! I find this very appealing.

But alas, I have proven to be a very stubborn and arrogant submissive. I realize that it seems the two do not belong together, and you may be correct. As loving, patient and persuasive as your Master Trilling is, I find myself fighting against the very real feelings I could have for his mind, body and soul!! For I do not reject the idea of being a part of your loving family for anything he has done........for it is my own obstinence and arrogance that holds me back! I realize that these very qualities may be my downfall as a true submissive. I have already had a Mistress tell me that I should consider being a Dom. I don't think have it in me to totally control, as I cannot submit my life to total control within a "family" atmosphere.

He shared with me the wonderful poem that his #1 had written. I have to say that, yes, it stirred up feelings of why I believe myself to be submissive. For I too love that feeling of being
"...brought to new highs
left floating and dark
only sensation exists
magnified"
I hope this to be a compliment to the writer, for you did stir me.....I smile and blush at the same time.

I close this wanting to tell all of you that I am envious, and intrigued by his love for you all, and that I believe all of you to be very lucky to have such an extraordinary Master in him! I thank him deeply for his friendship and guidance he has offered to me. I have found it to be priceless and have tried to pass on his knowledge and philanthropy to other new submissives, as best I can, still being relatively new myself.

As a final note, I want to address this to your Master and bow deeply to him and thank him for everything I have gleaned from just being in his presence.......bowing.

Thank you for your time all of you......

Leoness Catteneo

Dandelion...Bound to Sir

to be bound is release
the sinking slow away
from reality and thought
free to feel
tingle and writhe
every touch causes flesh to tremble
pressure on wrists and ankles
tight like a lovers grip
limbs stretched pulled
movement restricted
struggle and fight
and knowing there is nothing
that can be done to gain freedom
causes spazms deep inside
at the mercy for trust and love
only aware of pleasure and pain
sweetly both the same
opened and ready to serve
no choice but to please
exposed to passions torture
loss of all will power
as something hard enters
between my thighs
forced pressure
sliding deep stretching
shaking body, wet with lust
and having no control
over when it begins or ends
brought to new highs
left floating and dark
only sensation exists
magnified

Command.... (nikki)

My desire functions in a different way when I am submissive. The very
act of being submissive is arousing. Thinking of myself this way, as
an object, a slave, a toy, gives me a strong sexual feeling. My
vagina seems to expand, to open, I feel the moisture flow into it. My
nipples tingle. I feel a pressure at the base of my spine. I am
aroused.

Seeing my Master; choosing to go to him, and then actually going to
him -- finding whatever small scrap of privacy I can find, logging
into the computer, and finally seeing him – the whole process reminds
me of my submission. It reminds me that I am making the decision to
go to him, to give myself to him. That I am his, that he controls me.

So by the time I see him, I am already vibrating with sexual energy.
Even if I am in a bad mood, or my stomach hurts, or I'm tired, one of
the steps in the process will trigger the feelings and by the time I
see his face, my arousal is already tingling through my body.

And then! Then I see the arousal in his face. I see him look at me
with greed, his need to own me flowing through his expression. He
looks at me and the arousal expands further still in me. I don't need
to touch, to rub, to stimulate. Seeing him look at me like this, and
I know I am his. Totally and completely his. His beyond anything I
have ever known, but his like I have always wanted to be. The wetness
surges in my cunt, his cunt as he reminds me, and I am right on the
verge, totally ready to go over.

Finally he shows me that he wants me to cum. He can do this with his
hand, lifting it and showing it to me, reminding me that he can claim
me at will, and then lowering it, as if to put it right in my crotch.
As I see him move his arm down and forward, making the motion he would
make if he really could lift his fingers up and into me, I know what
he wants. And I know he can have it. Or he can do it with just a
look. Staring at me intensely, I know what he wants. And I know he
can have it.

It is a positively reinforcing cycle. He sees me react to his look,
and it effects him. I see the arousal build in him, and it brings me
even closer to orgasm. He sees that and his intensity grows further.
And that pushes me over the edge, my body spasming, the pleasure
washing over me.

The orgasm comes without any physical stimulation. It's not as strong
or as intense as when I do touch myself. But it is clearly an orgasm.
My vagina contracts. I can feel the moisture ooze. And when I do
touch myself after, I am wet. So wet. It is lovely. Magical.
Wonderful. We do it every day, and I hope we will keep doing it
forever.

Michelle's...collaring story

A Collaring Story

She sat perched on the window sill, gazing out into the starry night. Her long thick hair draped over one shoulder as she leisurely ran her fingers through it. The air in the small room in which she sat was cool, making her nipples harden against the thin fabric of her navy blue robe.
She knew why she was there. This was the night she had waited for, worked for, sacrificed for for a very long time. There was no place she would have preferred to be than here, waiting. The anticipation was almost too much for her, she was crawling out of her skin, though she would never show it.
Turning her head back to the room, she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head against them. Her eyes roamed the small dimly lit room taking it all in, making sure that everything was in its place as she was told to do.
A bed with its plush coverings turned down was against one wall with a small end table on its left side. On the table she had placed a single red candle, which let off a soft yellow glow and a small wooden oblong box with her name engraved on the top. Not far from the bed on the other wall, she had pulled out one of the chairs from under the small seating table so it faced the middle of the room. In front of the chair, there was a small pink cushion. On the table she had several more of the little red candles and short flat box.
She wondered about that box and what it might contain. It had been sealed shut so that it would be obvious if it had been opened. Her fingers itched to open it, but she knew better than to do that. She would just have to be patient and wait.
The sound of the door opening and then closing softly drew her away from her thoughts. Looking up, she saw a man coming into the room and walking towards her.
He was a tall man with broad shoulders and gentle green eyes. His shoulder-length hair was smoothed back behind his ears and secured. She shuddered involuntarily as she thought about those arms of his around her and his hands upon her body.
“Do you not greet me, little one?” he asked softly, as his large hand came out to touch her cheek gently, just barely touching her soft skin.
Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, before she could whisper, “Forgive me, Sir. I was lost in my own thoughts.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment, still lightly stroking her cheek. “Tell me of your thoughts.”
She smiled softly. “I was wondering what you have planned for us tonight.” She paused for a moment, looking up into his eyes. “And what would possibly in that box on the table.”
He chuckled to himself, a soft rumbling sound coming from deep in his chest. Tipping her head back, he lightly brushed her lips with his own. Her lips parted slightly under his as he breathed in her breathe.
From the simple touch, her whole body tingled; craving, wanting more. He pulled away from her and strode over to the chair by the small dining table. Her eyes followed him the entire way and as he lounged back in the chair.
There was something about his presence that just set her on fire. She yearned to please him, to make him happier because her own happiness was derived from his. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.
He silently indicated for her to come closer. Sliding off the windowsill, she softly tread over the soft carpet until she stood before him. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks when she saw his gaze drift down to her nipples, which were straining against her robe.
He licked his lips. “Undress for me,” he commanded softly. “And be sexy.”
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly as she took hold of the belt on her. Her nerves were awake with sensation and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t like this was the first time he was going to see her naked or had ordered her to undress. There was something in his eyes that night, which she could not quite figure it out.
The second she closed her eyes, she heard him say roughly, “Keep your eyes open.”
Snapping her eyes open, she looked deeply into his as she lightly trailed her hands down her body. Taking the belt into her hand again, she untied the knot and forcibly pulled it out from it loops. Her robe fell open slightly, giving him a perfect view of her flat stomach and the top of her bare sex. Leaning forward she hooked the belt around his neck, her breasts dangerously close to his face. But she backed off, sliding her hand under the robe she slide it off her shoulders, until she was completely naked before his eyes.
A distinctly aroused groan came from him, causing her to smile softly to herself.
“Come closer and turn around, baby.”
With her head lowered she moved closer to him and obeyed. He lightly trailed her fingertips over the bare skin of her side before taking her hand in his and bringing them behind her back. Pulling the robe belt from around his neck, he wrapped it around her wrists, binding them together.
She tried to pull on her bounds, seeing how well he had tied her. There was no way she was going to get lose, and that idea alone aroused her more.
She didn’t have much time to think as he turned her around with his hands on her hips and with a slight pressure urged her down to her knees. The cushion was soft under her knees as she spread them slightly, just the way he liked them. The hairs on her arms stood on end, as she felt the cool air of the room caress her heated flesh.
He leaned forward in his chair, and gently cupped her cheeks in his big hands. The desire she saw in his eyes fluttered in her chest as he brushed his lips over the tip of her nose, teasing her. Pulling back from her, he rested his forearms against his thighs.
“My dear, there is something I want to talk to you about tonight,” he began softly. “I want you to be completely open and honest with me. Is that understood?”
“Yes Sir,” she whispered, never taking her eyes from his.
In a very straight-forward tone he asked, “Are you happy with me?”
Was he really asking her this? She almost couldn’t believe it.
“Of course Sir. I have never been this happy.”
His lips twitched slightly as he reached out and briefly caressed her cheek with a single finger tip.
“Have I been good to you?”
“Better than I deserve.”
“You deserve so much more, little one. You mean the world to me and I love being able to sit here with you naked and willing at my feet.”
“And I love being here Sir. There is no other place I would rather be.” She spoke honestly and from her heart. There was not a word there that wasn’t true.
“I know, my dear. That is why I want to make you mine permanently.”
She gasped in surprise and struggled with her bonds, wanting to throw herself into his arms.
As tears welled into her eyes, he rose from his seat and moved behind her. She was most surprised when he untied her wrists, slid his arms around her body and retied her wrists in front of her body.
With her heart pounding in her chest, she watched him settle back into his chair. He took her bound hands into his own, holding them warm and comfortable.
Looking deeply into her eyes as if he could see into her very soul, he spoke in a calm but strong tone. “I love you so much. Your sweet submission means so much to me and I yearn for the time we can spend together. I want to have you at my feet and by my side always. You are my dear friend, my lover, and now I want you to be my slave. Will you wear my collar?”
Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her that. It was the one thing she had been waiting for for a long time. Now it was here and she didn’t know what to say.
Her eyes wide, she slowly nodded her head.
“Say the words, love,” he gently urged her.
“I would be honored to wear your collar, Sir,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Then with a confidence she didn’t know she had, she continued to speak words that seemed to come out of thin air. “I love you with my whole heart. I give myself to you freely and without inhibition to guide me and dominate me. You are my friend, my lover and now you are going to be more.”
Their eyes were still focused on each other, both with tears. Taking one of his hands from hers, he reached to the box on the table. He deftly broke the seal and opened the box. She craned her neck to see if she could catch a glimpse of what was inside, but to no avail. He set her hands back down on her lap for a moment.
Reaching into the box, he presented her with the most beautiful collar she had ever seen. It was made of smooth black leather lined with royal blue suede. He opened the small buckle of the back of the collar, and leaning forward slipped it around her neck.
A jolt went through her body as she felt this symbol of his ownership and his love close around her neck. With shaking hands, she raised her bound wrists and lightly ran her fingertips of the butter-smoothness of the leather and trace around the d-ring on the front.
He patted his thigh, inviting her to him. Without a second thought, she rose to her feet and seated herself on his lap, snuggling into his chest. He wound one of his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and his other hand cupped the back of her head. His heat radiated through the thin fabric of his shirt warming her body.
She tilted her head back, exposing the collar around her neck as he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her soft and deeply. She was lost in the feeling of his lips, the passion and yearning behind his kisses.
“My slave,” he whispered against her lips.
Then the one name she had craved to call him for a very long time, slipped from her lips, “Master.”

Michelle's beating fantasy

He had tied me completely naked to that chair and left me there for several long moments. My wrists bound to the back of the chair, my bare breasts pressed against the seat, my thighs against the legs, my knees bound to the foot of the chair. There was no getting out of it; moving, even the thought of moving was impossible. No light was allowed in the door, the lamps being off and the curtains drawn, just the warm glow of the fire before me. It warmed my face as I gazed at it through the back of the chair.
I could feel his presence as he returned to the room a couple minutes later. I knew where he had gone and why, as I heard a soft thud on a side table which stood next to me. My gaze never waivered from the fire until he came to kneel in front of me. He reached his hand through the bars of the chair and gently cupped my cheek, looking me deeply in the eyes.
My Master. I trusted him with my whole heart, and my body was his for the taking. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him, all I had was his and in return he gave me everything that was within his power to give me.
His eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of hesitation or fear.
“Are you sure you want this, my slave?” he asked softly.
“Yes Master,” I replied evenly, my lips curving up into a gently smile.
He ran the backs of his fingers over my cheek again before pulling away and standing up.
Anticipation shot through me as I felt him come to stand behind me. A surprised squeak sprung from my lips when a resounding slap was delivered to the right cheek of my up-turned ass. I could feel the tingling outline of his hand. Before I could recover from the first slap, I received another one in the same exact place making it hurt a little bit more.
He slapped the other side of my ass twice, hard, like he had to the other one, before he grabbed two handful of my round bottom. He gripped it hard, squeezing, his nails biting into my soft flesh. I tried to keep my breathing even as I could feel my bottom begin to heat up.
I rested my forehead against the cool wood of the chair, my gasps growing louder with each resounding smack to my tingling ass. This wasn’t any different from any spanking I had received before, until he took a handful of my hair and painfully pulled my head back.
I could feel his hot breath on my neck and his silky smooth voice in my ear.
“Are you ready, my love?” He asked gently.
I swallowed hard before slowly shaking my head. In an instant he pushed my head back against the seat and smacked my ass again.
I sucked in my breath when I felt the leather-tongue of my Master’s riding crop trail down my spine, over my ass to my thighs. He nudged the handle against my aching crotch for a moment, before tapping it against my thighs.
Without warning, he brought the crop down hard against my shoulder blades. A scream ripped from my throat as I felt the burn and the sting, a welt around forming. He gave me almost no time to recover from the first blow before he delivered another to my lower back and then to my already burning ass.
I bit down on my lower lip as he continued to assault my back and ass with forceful painful blows without pause. He groaned and grunted under his efforts and I could smell his sweat. He ignored my screams until they turned into broken sobs. The crop dropped to the floor with a soft thud. The tears streamed down my cheeks and clouded my vision, but I felt him untie me and pull him into his arms.
I hissed as the pain shot through me again as his arms came around me, holding me tight. He buried his nose in my hair and I buried my face into his neck. I didn’t have the strength to move just to surrender to the fell of his arms. My tears wetted the front of his shirt and I could feel his body shaking with emotion. The sobbing slowly subsided into soft whimpers.
He gently tilted my head up to look into his face. He too had tears in his eyes as he slowly brought his lips down to mine, kissing me gently but full of love and possession.
“Thank you Master,” I whispered.
“Don’t ever make me do that again,” he replied before kissing me again.

Michelle's poem

Master…
Lying on his back
Looking down at me
Flames of desire leaping in his eyes

His hands…
Buried in my hair
Guiding me
Showing me
How he wants to be pleased

His cock…
Hard and pulsing
Thrusting deep
Pushing into the back of my throat

My mouth…
Sucking
Gagging
Swallowing
Wanting more and more

My mouth becoming his toy
Another warm wet place
Tongue playing with the hard flesh
Savoring the feeling

nikki's essay

My desire to submit surprises me. It goes against everything I've
been taught, is in stark contrast to what I've become as a woman, and
is not what I teach my daughter. Yet, it calls to me with a strength
that cannot be resisted. It reaches deep into me and touches
something essential. It is powerful and oh, so pleasurable. So, I
succumb and I give myself to the "safe" on-line Mster, my desire for
something more outweighed by my fear. Each day I am surprised, but
also fulfilled, so each tomorrow I come back for more.

My feminist credentials are unassailable. I have a degree in women's
studies. I've read Andrea Dworken, Mary Daly, Camille Paglia, and
Simone de Beauvoir. I know about false consciousness and patriarchal
culture. So I know the risks of submission, I understand the dangers.
I know that a desire to submit has led women to put themselves in
situations where they had no power, no rights, no choices. Where they
were forced to stay in relationships, stay when the submission turned
into abuse, but there was no way out.

My mother raised me to make sure I didn't fall victim to this impulse.
She insisted that I take responsibility for my own life – learn to
drive, to balance my check book, and made sure I had financial
independence. She taught me not to wait for a Prince, but to stand on
my own two feet. And it worked – I have a graduate degree in business
and run a division of a large multinational company. I make more
money than 99% of men in America. I could support my family on my own
if I needed to.

Nevertheless, the drive is there. I don't need to, but I want to
submit. I want to give myself over. I want to kneel at his feet. I
want to obey his orders. I want to have sex at his command, open my
mouth, my cunt, my asshole. I want to cum when he tells me to. I
want to do whatever he asks, no matter how gross; open my legs, spread
my ass-cheeks, pee in my own mouth, drink it, show him my dirty
tampon, anything. I want him to give me to strangers.

What does it do for me? What is the attraction?

1) It takes away responsibility. I have so much in my life –
responsible for employees, for clients, for children, for parents, for
my husband. I am the provider. The worrier. The caregiver. But not
in my "sub-space". Here I give myself over and I have nothing to
worry about.
2) It proves my desirability, and not for the things I am most
confident in. I know I'm smart, quick, verbal. But in sub-space none
of that matters, here I am just sex.
3) It puts me in the position of being cared for. Here, I am
childlike, animal, an object to be cherished and watched over.
4) It gives me the opportunity to please. In sub-space I can
demonstrate in extremely tangible ways my love and be appreciated for
it.

Being submissive gives me sexual pleasure, yes. Intense sexual
pleasure. But I get lots of pleasure from regular sex too. With
submission, I am in a constant state of arousal, the pleasure just
right below the surface, ready to bubble up and over. Beyond that it
makes me feel feminine and beautiful in a way I have never felt
beautiful before. I glow. The best part? I feel calm and at peace.
Relaxed. Comfortable. Wonderful. It feels like a warm blanket.
Like the moment when the anesthesia hits the pain. Like a shot of
tequila.

So I do it. Again and again. But in this safe way. I have a Master
with no REAL power. No economic power – he can't withhold material
comfort from me. No physical power – he can't hold me down or put a
gun to my head. No legal power – he can't get custody of my children
or rob me of my possessions. He only has the power I give him.
Symbolic power. He can move my avatar, leash me, command me. But I
can log off anytime. Shut down the computer, and it's over and I
don't ever have to come back. So it is "safe" – I can experience the
wonder without the threat.

But I want more. I let him into my life little by little. I show him
my physical manifestation, perform for him, I dress for him, report to
him. And I want even more. If I could, I would give him all of it.
I don't know how else to explain it. It just is.