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Let me start by telling you that I am a 51 year old male submissive, married to my Mistress/wife. I live a 24/7 submissive life to her. I am a college graduate and am employed in a senior technical position in a large manufacturing company. My Mistress/wife was a practicing RN, until three years ago, when she quit to start her own business.
I first realized that I was sexually excited by bondage and whips when I was still in my teenage years. At first, I thought that I would be a top, but after reading and soul searching, I realized that I was really a bottom, a submissive. I always thought that there were not very many people who did this sort of thing.
Eventually I came to realize that there were more people with feelings like mine. We had not been married too long when during sex play, the topic of spanking came up and I asked my wife to spank me. She did and we then talked about it. I had enjoyed it and she had heard of BDSM, but thought that the bottom was getting hurt. We discussed it and read about BDSM and we progressed to using her hair brush and then one of my heavy belts.
One day she braided a whip out of some leather shoe laces. We were not on the Internet at that time and the only real information that we got on BDSM scenes were from the videos that we rented from the local adult toy store. In looking back, I can say that they were not the best, but they were “the only game in town”.
In the meantime, we went on line and I learned more from the Internet. I talked to some very nice people who answered a lot of my questions. I was fortunate that my wife fit into the role of Mistress very well and I became her slave. Things just seemed to blossom. She enjoyed the additional attention paid to her and the help of having a slave.
I had made some better whips and we bought a riding crop from the adult store. We were experimenting with how much pain I could take and developing our scenes. We chose a safe word for me to say, if the pain became too much. I made restraints, in the early stages of the D/s relationship, although now I realize that better ones could be purchased. For my birthday and Christmas, I would receive BDSM toys. First came a blindfold, then nipple clips, then some c*ck torture toys. We learned about humiliation, which I really enjoy, so thus we practice it. Some of the things that are described below range from “goddess worship” to humiliation.
I want to take this space to say that we have discussed all these things at length. We both believe that communication is very important. As neither of us reads minds, the only way to get what we each want is to communicate. We went into things slow. I did not just one day become her full time slave. When we try something new, my Mistress will ask me after if it was good for me and if I liked it. (in a serious, not mistressy voice) She also likes to be told periodically that I like what she does to me. (take note of this, male subs)
We may have discussed the act before hand or the new thing may have been a surprise from my Mistress, but she always questions whether I like it. Where is this leading? She cares about my well being, more than her desires. We talk about it so we get it right for both of us. Our home isn’t a medieval torture chamber, but a loving environment where BDSM is practiced on a regular basis. Talking about what each of us wants does not cheapen the act for us. Instead it assures each of us that we are both getting the most out of BDSM play, which includes humiliation play.
I am fortunate to have a Mistress who is an RN. She knows what is harmful to me, when she is cutting the circulation, etc. Without this knowledge, more discussion would be required. When I am fully bound and in pain from clips and the whip, I trust completely that she is in control of herself and will not harm or abuse me. This is not to say that I will not end up with welts, an occasional black & blue mark or an occasional cut from the whip. I am talking about real damage, both physical and psychological that can be done easier than you think.
(Once the Dom knows how much the sub can take and what pleases him/her, then limits can be pushed.)
I live 24/7 in service to my Mistress/wife because I like it that way. My Mistress/wife enjoys the role of Mistress and enjoys giving me the pain that I love to receive. (Is it pain, or a Dom’s love?) But I receive all of it because of a combination of “I really want it” and “She wants to give it”.
We both realize that the D/s relationship that we have is all a game. It is a fantasy that is being lived, every day. We are able to separate it from our every day married life, yet it is part of our everyday married life. By separating, I mean that we both carry on our life as normal married people do, with the exception that I am her submissive, her slave. Some people would rather use the word “submissive” instead of “slave”
I prefer the latter and it is all a matter of semantics, anyway. We both make decisions in our every day life and we both rely on each other. Why would a slave not be able to make important decisions? In history, some slaves ran their master’s affairs as far back as ancient times.
We have a household to run and all the normal problems and decisions that any couple have. There is no conscious decision when to enter or leave a role. I am not crawling on the floor or kneeling before her all day or being whipped all day. I do not have to wear a collar to know that I am her slave. But being her slave means that I am there to do the little things to serve her that a “vanilla” husband does not do.
She is my goddess.
For instance, I hang up her dress when she takes it off. I take care of her clothes every night when she takes a shower. I am there to give her a towel and dry her off. I take her coat out of the closet and help her with it and put it away when she takes it off. She runs her own business out of our home and when she is in her work area, I serve her soda or water.
I am at her beck and call, whenever I am home. She will often command me to bring her a whip and will whip me for some reason or just because she feels like it. We love each other very much and I believe that our D/s relationship has brought us closer together. For me, It is a sexual thing. Perhaps this part is a “male thing”. I find it very arousing to serve a Mistress.
Everything that I do for her has some sort of sexual meaning to me, even though there is nothing sexual about it. For instance, in doing the things that she commands me to do around the house, I know that I am pleasing my Mistress and that to me is a turn on.
Even emptying the dishwasher when not commanded, I know that my Mistress will take notice and be pleased. She makes sure that I know she is pleased. She rewards me often, with wordsI’m a 37yr old submissive male, and I was asked if I would give my point of view regarding D/s, and bdsm relationships. I don’t know if this will make sense to anyone other than myself, but I will do my best.
I first realized that I was into D/s and bdsm when I was 15yrs old – though, at that time, I thought I was unusual and that there must be something wrong with me, because I didn’t realize that there was anyone else like me in the world, I thought I must be some sort of freak or wierdo. It was only about 10yrs later, in my mid twenties, that I found out that in fact there were many many people out there like me.
Unfortunately for us sub-males who are into femdom, there are very few ‘mistresses’ about, other than the professional ones.
I couldn’t explain to you why I feel the way I do, as far as my interests in bdsm go, as I do not fit into all the classic stereotypes that people give those of us with this desire. I wasn’t caned at school, other than the normal smacks for misbehavior that the average child gets. My parents did not discipline me, and I do not have, nor have I ever had, a high pressure job that has made me want to give the responsibility to someone else, it is just something within me that I find very hard to explain.
The only thing I can say about myself, if it helps put things into perspective, is that I have often thought that, had I been born a few centuries ago, when torture chambers were the norm, I think I should quite happily given myself up to torture, so long as it was a female who was doing the torturing.
What I do have, is a deep desire to serve a dominant female, or even females, as I have often fantasized about being retrained and tortured by two sisters, or two female best friends. I also have the belief that ALL women are superior to me, including sub-females, that sub-males, as far as women are concerned, are the lowest of the low. If I had a mistress, who also had a female slave, that female slave would be superior to me, though she was inferior to our mistress. That though, is just my opinion, I can’t say whether other sub-males feel that way about females.
Having said this, as extremis so eloquently put it, I do have a mind of my own, if I have an opinion on something, I will voice that opinion and give my point of view. Though as I’ve said, I think women are superior to men, I do not think that everything they say is therefore automatically right, we are all human, and we can all make mistakes.
If you’re new to bdsm and D/s, you will find that over time, as you progress further down your chosen path, that there is great diversity. Not everyone is into the same thing, some are only mildly interested, for others it is a way of life, but, however far you want to go, follow your heart, don’t let people put you off. Contrary to what you may read in the media, you are not a pervert.
Perverts are people who molest children, rape or sexually assault women, or who have sex with animals. At least, that’s my definition of a pervert, others may disagree.
Personally, I like nothing better than to be restrained by a woman or women, ready for them to do whatever they wish to me, within the normal safety rules that any sane people would agree to. But, as I’ve said before, that is just my opinion. As in everyday life, we are all different, and have our own particular likes and dislikes.
For me, just thinking about, or talking about bdsm is enough to turn me on, sometimes in places where I have to do my best to hide my arousal. For any newcomers to the lifestyle, experiment, try the things you have always fantasized about, if it is practical to do so, and, that way, you will find out exactly what you like and dislike.
One final important point for anyone new to bdsm, or thinking about getting into it. It must be consensual, both parties must agree to it, never let anyone persuade you to do anything you do not wish to do, and always have a ‘safeword’, that tells your dom/me partner that you’ve had enough for the time being.
(Source site defunct.)
Originally posted 2009-01-06 11:05:41. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
The next morning, he lay in bed thinking that THAT had to be the most amazing dream ever. He must have had way too much beer, he didn’t even remember stumbling home after watching the movies. Plus, he was still tired. Must have worked too hard yesterday, but he had better get up and get going or he wouldn’t get the rest of his chores done.
The realization hit him as he stood there, the tiny lock weighing very heavily against him. It was beginning to come back. Getting dressed and that long journey up the stairs. Facing the women and then being told to go home and go to bed and that she expected him back tomorrow nite at seven. She treated him like a child. She thought she could order him around like that. Well he would show her! He thought about the way that she had treated him yesterday and realized that he was getting hard. Well hard to a point. The cable that she had carefully put on him was digging into the base of his cock rather painfully as he started to swell. The cold water of the shower soon put a stop to the ache as he shrunk down again.
He dressed and left for school but he was nagged by what would await him this evening. Finally, he managed to concentrate and get through his exams for that day. Thank goodness he didn’t have anything for a couple of days. He had been thinking about what had happened to him. It was humiliating, but it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him as well. In the fantasies that he had, he had always really been the one in charge, manipulating his mistresses into doing what he wanted. He always enjoyed that thought of that power, but now, he found that the prospect of being helpless in someone else’s power was much more erotic for him. He realized that he couldn’t wait for this evening to come.
He suffered through dinner and then went back to his room for a shower, carefully checking for stubble as instructed. There really didn’t seem to be any so he was safe for today, he worried a bit about how he was going to reach some of those places to shave when he needed to in a day or so. Plus he had to turn the water to icy to keep from getting hard thinking about her checking him for stubble. The thought of her inspecting those areas was deeply embarrassing and yet he found himself incredibly turned on. He was a Pat’s door promptly at 7.
They lead him down to the basement again, and simply told him to strip. He was horribly self-conscious undressing in front of the two women, who just stood and watched him with amused smiles on their faces. When he was naked, Lara ran her hands over his legs, over his cock and balls and had him bend over as far as he could, spreading his legs and grabbing the cheeks of his ass, spreading them for her. He knew he was turning pink from head to toe. He could actually feel her breath on him as she leaned in closely to check for stubble, that and the insistent ache of the chain between his legs. Smiling, she asked if he had shaved. He replied that he hadn’t, he didn’t feel any stubble at home. They told him to get the cuffs off the wall and then lead him to a large X attached to the wall. They put his wrists and ankles in the cuff and then attached him to the X.
Lara explained to him, as she stroked his cock that they would be introducing him to some friends tonight. She showed him the little sign that she had made, “Lara’s new pet” and how it hung nicely over his engorged cock and painfully throbbing cock. Then she blindfolded him and whispered that if she found his sign on the floor at any time during the night, there would be public punishment. She reached behind his balls and unlocked the cable, making his erection less painful, but the humiliation he felt at being expected to remain hard in a room of unseen strangers was overwhelming. He heard her go up the stairs and the door closed leaving him along with his thoughts.
He pulled against his bonds, but he was held tight. Somehow she had attached him in a way that didn’t allow him any slack. It was hopeless. He would have to endure whatever it was that she had planned for him. At least she took off the cable that she had put on him. He realized that the direction that his mind had taken wasn’t exactly in the direction that would guarantee that this sign stayed on. In fact, he could feel it slowly starting to slip. Public punishment! What would she do, try to spank him in front of everyone? He realized that she had done that once, turned him over her knee and spanked him until he was blubbering. Well that wouldn’t happen this time, he was ready for her!
Then he remembered what he had watched on the video tape. And then he tried very, very hard to imagine the sexiest stuff he could think of.
He began to hear the sound of people upstairs and knew it would be just a short while before they came down the stairs.
Continued
Originally posted 2010-11-26 15:36:17. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
He began to think about what was happening to him, he was handcuffed to a cross, naked, and expected to remain hard for he couldn’t imagine how long. He had remembered what was on the tape, is that what was in store for him? To become someone to beat? to punish when he didn’t do his ‘chores’. Not exactly the male pleasure slave that he had imagined. He had imagined himself pleasuring harems of women, using his expertise to drive them wild with desire. That was certainly not the case here where he found himself begging for release, being reduced to tears after being spanked like a child. He wasn’t a child, he was a man. To think that he had been bent over and taken – and on top of all the other humiliations, that he had cum! Well that was from her hand, if she hadn’t stroked him and drove him to distraction for hours, THAT would have never happened.
He realized he had began to flag during his mental ranting, and he heard footsteps and voices on the stairs. Waves of embarrassment began to wash over him. With growing panic, he realized one of the hangers holding up his sign had slipped off of the end of his cock.
“Oh my, what do we have here?”
“Lara seems to have finally found a toy. My dear you see to have found a young one, and he does look yummy! And doesn’t he blush prettily, you would think he had never been displayed before.” He heard a buzz of conversation around him. There was too much, he could only hear snatches.
“his sign seems to have gone askew, is that a problem?”
Then he heard her voice clearly over the others. “What?” Footsteps approached him. A quiet voice whispered into his ear, “Is there some sort of problem, pet? You want to impress these folks with your ability to follow instructions don’t you?”
With each word, he felt the need to please her washing over him.
“Perhaps you would need a bit of help to keep it up.”
“No! No, I can do it! Please don’t embarrass me more!” he whispered desperately.
“Tom, could I borrow one of your subs for the evening? My pet is awfully new at this and is having trouble keeping on task. Yes, that one I think. There dear, just make sure he stays hard, and don’t talk to him or anyone else. Yes, hang up his little sign and we will start again. Tom and I will discuss a suitable reward for you at the end of the evening.”
He heard her walk away and he was miserable again. He was just to be ignored by everyone, an object of ridicule. His misery washed over him. He jumped, as far as he was able to anyway, cuffed as he was as he felt the warm wetness along the length of his cock. Someone was licking him, running their tongue over his cock, carefully avoiding the sensitive tip. It wasn’t her, she was on the other side of the room, he could follow her voice, it must be the sub assigned to keep him hard. It had felt so wonderful, he responded immediately, his cock sprang to immediate attention.
He heard voices near him again and sensed that someone was looking at him. “Oh that seemed to do the trick, now we can read his little sign. Oh goody, an interactive display!”
Someone grabbed his right nipple and began to massage it gently. It grew taunt under their fingers, then the left one was rubbed as well. He felt one being sucked, it was a wonderful feeling, it somehow traveled directly to his groin. He began to bob up and down and he felt himself dripping. The gentle sucking had increased and he could feel teeth rubbing across his nipple. He quietly moaned from the feeling. The teeth latched onto his nipple, tighter now, the pleasant feeling turning quickly into something more intense as the pressure increased. Then someone else began sucking at the other nipple, confusing him, the pleasure and pain together were blending and confusing him. He began to whimper and suddenly as quickly as it had started, he was alone with his thoughts.
As time passed, more people played with him, that was the only way that he could think of it. He was stroked, pinched, prodded and licked. One instance was very difficult. Tied as he was, he couldn’t move. And he was ticklish, so the yelp he gave when someone bit the inside of his calf was understandable. The teeth began to explore his legs. Never biting hard, just hard enough so that he knew what it was. He tried pulling away, that was fruitless, he couldn’t move. He asked whoever it was to please stop. That didn’t seem to have any effect either. He resolved to be stoic and take it. That worked for a while, but they seemed to zero in on the most sensitive spots, and soon he was begging them to stop. They didn’t. The torture continued endlessly in his mind when suddenly, instead of another agonizing bite/tickle, his torturer began licking his balls. The lack of hair had made them incredibly sensitive and soon he was again pushing himself forward as well he could to try and increase the contact. But as quickly as it started, his tormentor abandoned him to snacks and small talk.
And always, the warmth of the tongue whenever he felt himself flagging. He began to hope for moments of inattention, just to have that wonderful feeling again. He found himself leaning into it – pushing his cock forward, wanting more than the fleeting warmth, to feel the warmth of that mouth wrapped around him. He had begun to sigh in frustration and to whisper, ‘please, please don’t stop, that feels so wonderful…’ whenever it withdrew.
Suddenly he felt breath in his ear. ‘I see that you have managed to keep you little sign in position with help.”
“Yes ma’am, please release me and let me go home, this is humiliating.”
“Yes, I suppose it is, but then it was supposed to be a chance for me to show you off as well as an exercise in obedience and I can see that the obedience part needs work. Although you do seem to be a hit, I have been asked several times tonight for you as a loaner when you are trained. Although there was your disobedience earlier.”
A feeling of panic welled up in him. “Loaner!? what does that mean?!”
“You don’t really thing that I wouldn’t share my toys, Tom shared one of his with me tonight and it has saved you from a much more severe punishment. Yes, you will be shared with other masters for their pleasure when I am ready, but for now you are mine and mine alone.”
“And as for your disobedience, what do you think is fair?”
“You would punish me in front of everyone?”
“Of course, you disobeyed in front of them and they would see you punished.”
“I don’t know, please don’t spank me in front of everyone, being turned over your knee would be too much to bear.”
Her hand caressed his face, “Paddling then, 20 then instead of the 50 you would have gotten had you dropped it entirely. Then I will give you to Toms sub as a reward. Now ask me for your punishment”
He hung his head and quietly said, “I am sorry I disappointed you, I deserve punishment and request that you punish me. Please.”
“Louder please dear, I am sure everyone would like to hear how a well-behaved pet asks for his punishment.”
He gathered his courage and said in a loud voice, “Mistress, I am sorry I disappointed you, I deserve punishment and request that you punish me. Please.”
She said, “As you wish.” His hands and feet were released and his sign and blindfold removed. He was lead over to the bench where she had paddled him before. He shivered in anticipation.
Originally posted 2010-11-29 19:43:09. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
by Subboy
The Humiliation of Slutboy Continues
When I come back into the living room with our drinks, he sure enough is fucking his imaginary woman.
“Oh you nasty boy.” Stacy says “Is that the face you make when you fuck? It’s just blank. You’re fuckin’ this chick good, let’s see your fuck face.” He scrunches up his face, and opens his mouth. We all laugh. I can barely watch this, but it is hilarious. “You’re not constipated.” Stacy says “My God, just go back to the blank face. And that’s the laziest excuse for fucking. Stop. Stop. Have you ever even had sex?”
“Of course.” he snaps offended.
Heather laughs. “Okay, okay. So sensitive.” Stacy says “Let’s try something different. Turn around and face away from us. We don’t want to see your face anyway. Now lay down on your stomach and prop yourself up on your elbows. That’s it. Now you’re gonna pretend that you’re fucking a girl under you.”
This idiot starts to go at it as if his life depended on it.
“No. No. No.” Stacy says “You don’t just start fucking that fast. You have to start slow and work into it.” He slows down. “There you go. I think you need some lessons in fucking. If you’re a good boy and pass tonights tests I might give you some lessons tomorrow night. Just keep fucking for now.”
“This is kind of boring.” Heather says “Watching his pale ass move up and down.” We all laugh. We all start to talk about different boys, and almost even forget about Eric. After about ten minutes we hear, “Red. Red.”
Stacy whispers to me, “I won’t make him do it any more, but I’m going to give him a hard time.”
“What’s wrong?” Stacy asks him.
“I have to stop.” He says.
“That was only a little over five minutes. Is that all you can fuck?”
“No, but there really wasn’t a woman.”
“Um, Okay. So now what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.” He says.
“Do you want to go home?” Stacy asks “Be by yourself as usual.”
“No.”
“Well this isn’t a good start. I said I’d give you lessons in fucking tomorrow night if you could pass tonight’s tests, then this.”
“Please give me another chance.”
“Yeah, give him another chance.” I say. What can I say, I feel sorry for the guy.
“Okay look.” Stacy says “You’re lucky Sarah is on your side. She always has sympathy for pathetic creatures. You interupted our conversation. I want you to stay on your knees and masturbate, but don’t cum. If you are about to cum, tell us, and stop.
We continue our conversation. I try not to look at this guy stroking his thing. After awhile Stacy goes to her bedroom and comes back with an 8 inch dildo and a harness. “What’s more impressive, my dildo, or his real thing?”
“Oh definently your dildo. Heather says.
“I know you’re not a lesbian, but would you rather he fucked you, or I fucked you with this? You’ve seen how he fucks.”
“I think I’d rather you gave it to me.” Heather says.
“What about you, Sarah?” Stacy asks.
“No comment.” I say.
“Me fuck you long time, baby” Stacy says in her best Asian hooker accent (so wrong) and we all laugh.
Stacy walks up to Eric with the dildo in her hand. “Keep stroking yourself slut boy.” She says. She starts slapping him across the face with the dildo. He opens his mouth. “Oh slut. You want to suck my dildo? I love it when little dicked sluts like you suck on my big dildo. If you’re a good little submissive wanker boy, I might make you my slave, and after I’ve trained you I’ll pimp you out to Heather. I’m sure she’ll have fun dominating you. I don’t mean to brag, but I bet you never thought you could have a mistress as hot as me.”
“No. I never did.”
“This is just the beginning slut-” just then he cums. He catches most with his hand, but a drop gets on the floor. “What the hell is this?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I told you not to cum.”
“I know, I’m soo sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“That’s two strikes. You’ve really fucked up.
“I’m-”
“Don’t talk. Words can’t get you out of trouble mister. You’re in for punishment. You will be spanked and beaten.”
“I-”
“Shut the fuck up! Don’t say ‘yellow’ either, because I will not let up on you. You can say ‘red’ and I’ll stop, and I’ll take you back to the bar, and you can get on with your pathetic lonely life. I’ll even be nice doing it, but our relationship will be over. This is your last chance. Now get up. Wait, first lick your hand clean. Lick that cum off of it.”
We watch as he licks his hand. I’ve never seen Stacy like this, and I’m almost scared.
“You’ll pay dearly for that spot on the carpet. Now get up. I want you on your knees, on the that chair, facing backward, and grab the top of the headrest.”
Editor’s Note: if you are enjoying this series you might let Subboy know by leaving a note on the form below.
Originally posted 2008-03-21 10:00:41. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
I called ahead and told you how I wanted you when I got home from work. You’re to be naked, wearing your collar with the leash attached. You were a little confused by my tone – I was brusque with you. When you asked me what was up, I said “Just do it, Alan” almost in a snarl.
You hear my car pull up and you go to the door, as I told you to do. When I come in you look at me expectantly. I look you over, my eyes hard. I hand you my purse and coat and go sit in my armchair. You put the purse and coat away and come over to stand beside me. “Down” I say, pointing to the floor in front of me. You drop to your knees.
“Take off my shoes and rub my feet,” I order you, leaning back in the chair. You hurry to comply. While you are rubbing my feet, I tell you about my day. “I’ve just had the wildest day,” I tell you, “Phone ringing all day, problems all over the place, arguing with vendors… A completely frustrating day. I’m wound about as tight as I can get.”
“Anything I can do?” you ask.
A nasty smile plays over my lips. “I’m so glad you asked…”
I kiss you long and hard, pressing my body up against you, then strap the ballgag around your head and move over to the toy rack. There are spreader bars between your ankles and between your wrists, your arms held over your head by the rope over the rafter. I come back to where you are tied, suede whip in my hand. My face is grim, determined, my eyes seem to look through you.
I hold the whip up for you to hang on to for me while I gather my hair back into a ponytail. Your eyes get wide – I only do this when I’m serious. I take the whip from you and look at you… slowly walking around to stand behind you. You feel my head on your back – my cheek pressed against your shoulder, hands pressed to your sides. A few deep breaths and I move away.
Thwack!
The suede tails hit your buttocks. Noticeably harder than my usual warm-up stroke. I cover your back and bottom with strokes of the whip until they are warm and pink. My hand runs over your back, caressing the faint stripes.
I walk around and look at your face. Your eyes look at me, hungry and wondering. I stroke your face and go take the blindfold off the rack. I don’t want your heart right now, I want your body, and I can see your heart in your eyes.
You wince as the whip hits your chest. You’re not used to me flogging your front side – it has taken you by surprise. The whip covers the front of your body from your chest to your thighs, making you jump when it hits your tender nipples.
I leave you briefly to go back to the toy rack. When I come back to you, my hand wraps around your sack. I pull hard, biting your neck to hear you moan and feel you struggle. A second after I move away you feel the leather strap hitting your chest. I cover your body with slaps from the strap, red imprints appear on your fleshy parts where I’ve hit you hard.
When I get back from the next trip to the toy rack, you hear a swish in the air. I’ve only used the cane on you once before, and very lightly.
“I’m going to take the gag out,” I whisper in your ear. “Don’t talk. Don’t say a word. Understand?”
You nod, and I remove the gag. You stretch your jaw, but say nothing.
The cane strikes your buttocks and you gasp. It lands again, this time on your thighs.
I strike your legs and bottom, harder and harder until you cry out, then back off slightly and continue covering your bottom and thighs with welts from the cane.
We’ve both had enough.
I remove your blindfold, remove the bars and cuffs from your ankles and wrists. We sink to the thickly padded floor and curl up in each others arms, holding each other tight.
“Thank you….” I whisper.
Originally posted 2010-05-24 13:11:33. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
She is sitting for him now, alone. He is working on her head.
She has posted me in the adjoining room behind a heavy curtain,
where I can’t be seen, but can see everything.
What does she intend now?
Is she afraid of him? She has driven him insane enough to be sure,
or is she hatching a new torment for me? My knees tremble.
They are talking. He has lowered his voice so that I cannot
understand a word, and she replies in the same way. What is the
meaning of this? Is there an understanding between them?
I suffer frightful torments; my heart seems about to burst.
He kneels down before her, embraces her, and presses his head
against her breast, and she–in her heartlessness–laughs–and now
I hear her saying aloud:
“Ah! You need another application of the whip.”
“Woman! Goddess! Are you without a heart–can’t you love,” exclaimed
the German, “don’t you even know, what it means to love, to be
consumed with desire and passion, can’t you even imagine what I
suffer? Have you no pity for me?”
“No!” she replied proudly and mockingly, “but I have the whip.”
She drew it quickly from the pocket of her fur-coat, and struck him
in the face with the handle. He rose, and drew back a couple of paces.
“Now, are you ready to paint again?” she asked indifferently. He did
not reply, but again went to the easel and took up his brush and
palette.
The painting is marvellously successful. It is a portrait which as
far as the likeness goes couldn’t be better, and at the same time it
seems to have an ideal quality. The colors glow, are supernatural;
almost diabolical, I would call them.
The painter has put all his sufferings, his adoration, and all his
execration into the picture.
Originally posted 2007-06-19 16:14:22. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
The shit hit the fan in a big way last night. I usually get home before Angelina but she was already home when I got in.
“Oh hello Miss, you’re early.” I said in surprise. I then noticed she had her overnight bag in her hand.
“I can’t stop now, we’re all meeting up at 8.” She replied, putting her jacket on.
“Who’s we?” I asked.
“Me, Chris, Cath and Tony, we’re going to the cinema.”
“And your bag?”
“Oh, I’m staying over at Chris’s tonight, it just seems easier. I did leave you a note.” She said matter-of-factly.
“What do you mean, you’re staying at Chris’s, you only saw him a couple of days ago. I thought we agreed it would only be once a week.?” I replied, starting to get angry and anxious.
“We never agreed that…and besides I haven’t seen him since Friday.”
“Erm, he was fucking fucking you on Saturday morning,” I replied angrily.
“Well maybe that’s because you can’t. “ she said.
“Only because I’m locked up.””Well you agreed to it, and you agreed to me seeing Chris.” She responded with an element of contempt in her voice.
“I didn’t agree to it…to any of it. You asked me to…no TOLD me.”
“Look, I really am late, and I’m glad I’m going out if you’re going to be in such a foul mood, and behave so rudely.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I replied, “Look can we just talk about this.”
“I’ll maybe see you tomorrow night, OK?” came her reply and with that she picked up her bag and left.
I did think about trying to stop her, but she was pretty determined and she had a look in her eye that frankly scared me a bit.
I was furious, especially when I found her note on the kitchen table:
Chastityboy,
Staying at Chris’s tonight, see you tomorrow.
Can you iron my work shirts?
Miss K
Is that all I deserved. If I hadn’t got home when I did that’s all I’d have had. I’ve done everything she’s asked. It’s not been easy and at times it has really hurt, but the least I deserve is a bit of respect and thoughtfulness in return. As someone commented, it isn’t really compromise if it’s only me making it. I can’t believe she’s been so … well horrible. I tried to call her mobile but she was either out of battery or had it turned off, even after the film must have finished.
I didn’t get much sleep I was so angry. I’m also really itching on my legs and “other” areas where my hair is starting to grow back. She probably doesn’t even give a fuck, although she’s probably getting one.
Originally posted 2008-04-05 01:00:38. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
To-night I accompanied her to a soiree. In the entrance-hall she
ordered me to help her out of her furs; then with a proud smile,
confident of victory, she entered the brilliantly illuminated room.
I again waited with gloomy and monotonous thoughts, watching hour after
hour run by. From time to time the sounds of music reached me, when
the door remained open for a moment. Several servants tried to start
a conversation with me, but soon desisted, since I knew only a few
words of Italian.
Finally I fell asleep, and dreamed that I murdered Wanda in a
violent attack of jealousy. I was condemned to death, and saw myself
strapped on the board; the knife fell, I felt it on my neck, but I
was still alive–
Then the executioner slapped my face.
No, it wasn’t the executioner; it was Wanda who stood wrathfully
before me demanding her furs. I am at her side in a moment, and help
her on with it.
There is a deep joy in wrapping a beautiful woman into her furs, and
in seeing and feeling how her neck and magnificent limbs nestle in
the precious soft furs, and to lift the flowing hair over the collar.
When she throws it off a soft warmth and a faint fragrance of her
body still clings to the ends of the hairs of sable. It is enough to
drive one mad.
Originally posted 2007-06-19 15:38:11. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
In my former life, I can recall dating a girl named Carmen. Carmen was a smart,
pretty young thing, just out of college. She gave wonderful blowjobs as I
recall. Carmen and I made a smart looking modern young couple. We had great
sex, as smart looking modern young couples do. I can even remember wild
thoughts running through my mind: serious relationships, future, even marriage!
Carmen was nice. Carmen was practical. But Carmen had a roommate….
Aeysha was the kind of girl, that in my former life, I didn’t like much at
all. Not that she wasn’t polite, but she had a kind of condescending way about
her. She gave off the signals, albeit covertly, that she didn’t care much for
me (or for any guy for that matter) and that Carmen would be better off without
me. Consequently, I tried my best to avoid speaking with Aeysha too much,
preferring to bring Carmen home with me as quickly as possible to do what
couples do. The few extended conversations that I ever had with Aeysha turned
into disagreements about men, women, feminism, etc. Aeysha was everything that
Carmen was not: Dark of hair, sarcastic, opinionated, quick-witted. I must say
that in retrospect, I was intimidated by Aeysha. She wasn’t exactly pretty,
but she had a very toned, hot body that she achieved through spending as many
diligent hours at the gym as her grad student schedule would allow.
As it happens, about two months into our relationship Carmen had to leave town
on short notice upon the death of her grandfather. She had called and left me
a message that she would be returning on that Saturday, and to pick her up at
her apartment, as she would be in the mood to have some fun. When I arrived at
her place however, I found only Aeysha.
“Oh hi, um…what’s up?”
“Is Carmen ready yet?”
“Carmen is Chicago until tomorrow.”
“She said she was coming back tonight.”
“No she’s coming back on Sunday.”
“Jesus…she left a message saying Saturday.”
“Well she must have said Sunday, because she’s not here.”
I asked Aeysha if I could come in to use the bathroom before heading back
home. She sighed and let me in. After I had used the facilities I passed her
in the living room on the way to the door. I got just as far as the door
handle.
“Oh, Bobbie?”
“Yes?”
“You didn’t say thank you for my allowing you to use the bathroom.”
What a bitch.
“Um…thank you Aeysha”
“That’s better. Now before you go, I was thinking that maybe we could get to
know each other a little better…”
“Well ok. What do you want to do? Have a drink or something?”
“I was thinking perhaps we could fuck each other’s brains out.”
“JESUS Aeysha. I’m dating Carmen. You know that!”
“Oh come on…it will be our little secret. Just once. I want to see for
myself what Carmen has been raving about. You do think I’m attractive, don’t
you?”
“Well yeah but…”
But.
But.
(Continued … )
Originally posted 2009-03-13 12:46:17. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
It is strange how every relation in life assumes a different face as
soon as a new person enters.
We spent marvellous days together; we visited the mountains and
lakes, we read together, and I completed Wanda’s portrait. And how
we loved one another, how beautiful her smiling face was!
Then a friend of hers arrived, a divorced woman somewhat older, more
experienced, and less scrupulous than Wanda. Her influence is already
making itself felt in every direction.
Wanda wrinkles her brows, and displays a certain impatience with me.
Has she ceased loving me?
Originally posted 2007-06-19 14:50:46. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
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