Durn Trilling postings

Master's deep touch, OhShelly (slaveoh)

2015-07-10T21:02:00.000-07:00

Master is inside me as I write this. His hardness has penetrated me and he rests inside me as I involuntarily grip his presence, feeling his unyielding ownership of me.

I am owned… I feel him inside me both in my soul and physically in my body. As a slave in Second Life, it is hard to imagine that I would actually be being physically penetrated by my Master, but he continues to find ways to reach from Second Life into the world where my physical body resides.

Shortly after he collared me he showed me a toy he wanted me to have. njoy makes steel plugs. I had only once tried taking a man in my butt, and it wasn’t comfortable… It hurt, like he was going to rip me open and at the same time like I needed to poop really badly.

But I am his slave and I will try things. I trust Master, and he listens to his slaves. He did not push, or coerce. But he wanted me to try it. And I want to please him.

Hidden away in a basket in the back of my bookshelves in my bedroom is an old toy. A big silicone dildo that loops around and has an anal plug. The idea is to put it in both holes and once… something I never tried. I had never inserted either end into my back door. Until about a week ago.

Master had told me that he wanted to fuck me. I had the house to myself and prepared for a night of penetration. I found my big blue friend, set my computer up to display on the big screen, put down a towel, logged into Second Life and knelt.

Master had a guest with him when I arrived. When I am not Master’s fuck toy, I try to be a good hostess. And it looked like I was going to be hostess, not fuck toy tonight. Except it is Master’s house and soon I found myself asking Master if I could insert the anal piece while we chatted.

I don’t even remember why I asked. We were chatting with a Norwegian girl about healthcare, and I was looking at my blue toy and I just wanted it inside me. Soon I was applying lubrication and slipping the blue bulb past my sphincters. It hurt a little, and then it popped in, the bulb inside me, and my butt gripping the small base.

I sat back down on the floor, and chatted about a museum in Stockholm and… suddenly I felt…. amazing. Filled. Comforted. Held.

When I was married, my husband would spoon me with his cock inside my pussy, arms around me, cupping my breasts as we fell asleep. Somehow the plug, once it was in, made me feel like that. Occupied, filled, but… held so close it is like being part of another person

I wanted more. And Master wanted me to have a stainless steel njoy toy… I found it on Amazon that night. I had a $50 credit from some work team building thing, and the naughtiness of using work bonus money to buy a steel anal plug made me smile even more. Amazon Prime applies to sex toys and I even got free two-day delivery.

Two days is a long time when you want to be filled and held. Finally then the box came. Only then I didn’t have time… I needed to wait until my significant other was not home, and that meant two more days.

I rushed home early from work on Friday knowing that I would be alone. Master was online and I told him I would have time to try my new toy in privacy and begged him to allow me to put it in my butt… and he allowed it! I ran upstairs excitedly and got my njoy out of its hidey-hole, quickly applied lubrication and slipped it into my own hidey-hole.

It is smaller than the blue silicone toy, but it’s heavy. It slipped in so smoothly, and then, he was in me. My Master was inside me. The blue toy was big, with the dildo hanging out. This has a little handle that nestled between my cheeks and disappeared from view. It was like being fucked by an invisible man -- wherever I moved, he was in me

I was so excited, so turned on by it. I wanted to grind my but against the wall, on any surface. Master had me wiggle in my seat, and then he had me get on all fours and thrust my butt in the air. No matter how I moved, I was being filled and fucked.

He ordered me to cum… and I did. Long rolling orgasms… mind blanking... I became a blank fuck toy rolling in the ecstasy of being fucked in the ass by a strong Master.

Master insisted I take the toy out before I got tired or injured. He wants me to build up the muscles to hold it all day. On Saturday he had me wear it for at least 40 minutes but no more than an hour. His presence nestled inside me as I pruned the roses in the June morning and the jogger I smiled at probably thought I was a grinning idiot or just liked his legs.

Sometimes it got a little uncomfortable, and then, it was just part of me. As I am part of my Master.

And then it was time to remove it. It comes out remarkably clean, and hot, warmed by my body. I felt empty… wishing to hold him again. Wishing to be held by his distant touch, to feel him fucking his slave. To be completely owned.

OhShelly (slavoh): Pee and Punishment

2015-06-26T18:40:00.000-07:00

Master and I meet in the morning. He has coffee, reviews my wardrobe, checks on my well being, and has me arouse myself. Sometimes it’s kegels while pinching my nipples. One time it was sitting on a hard chair with a large marking pen pressed against my clit and rolling back and forth.

But he always touches my brain, and makes it fizzy.

The other day after he left and I went to shower I was washing my ass, as ordered, with the detachable showerhead and my mind raced with the images he had put in my brain. He had me pee while twisting my nipples, imagining it was him tweaking and pinching me as he stood in front of me while I sat on the toilet.

I took the fantasy further in my mind with the hot water spraying my ass, and soon pressed tightly against my pelvis, the handle between my lips as I wiggled it against my clitoris. Then my finger took over and I started to cum.

And I realized what I had done. I had broken Master’s order to not cum without permission. To even touch myself without permission is not allowed, and I had done so much more than touch myself.

He owns me and I cannot lie to him. When he asked, I had to tell him. And so I am being punished.

The punishment has two parts. First, I have to cum for him three times a day. In the public restroom at the office. While my coworkers come in and sit down in the stall next to me, I am burying my fingers in my lap, twiddling and flicking and thinking or my Master, getting hot and swallowing my yips and gasps.

The first time was fun. The second time was harder. The third one took a lot longer… I had thought the “Cum three times a day” would be fun. But it’s work. It’s sexy work, but it’s scary that I could get caught. And having to arouse myself on command makes it less pleasure and more a task to be completed, like a dutiful housewife spreading her legs… only I am not allowed to fake it.

The other punishment was to pee through my fingers. Every time for three days.

I sat down on the toilet and dutifully put my fingers below me. And I couldn’t pee. The thought of spraying urine on my own hands was too disturbing to me. I went back to my Master and reported my first cum, but my lack of peeing.

Later the pressure built I asked my Master if I could go pee. “Fingers slave.”

“yes Master.”
I grabbed paper towels. I sat and presented my fingers. And I peed. The stream was hot, much hotter than I expected. When I was done I reached for my paper towels, and hardly wet them. I wiped myself and washed my hands. It was all very simple and clean, hardly worse than wiping myself normally.

I am peeing a lot these days because Master has me drinking so much water. He reminds me to pee “as ordered” and I do. And something has changed in my brain. Everytime I sit down my hand goes automatically between my legs. I welcome the hot flow. I… I like it.

Every time I sit there, urine flowing over my fingertips I have a quick argument with myself….

“I can’t believe I am doing this,” sensible old me says.
“Yes, but he is my Master,” my growing slave persona replies.

And sensible me cannot argue, because she has hot piss running through her fingers. And she is owned. And slave me smiles and snuggles into the flow like the embrace of her Master’s grip.

OhShelly (slaveoh): Sisterhood

2015-06-21T17:20:00.004-07:00

Sisterhood

I am not my Master’s only slave. I may kneel on the floor by my Master or hang from chains and watch while he plays with one of my sisters. Shelved. Put aside for the moment.

But never forgotten by Master.

He tortures her with dildos and plugs, maybe with clamps and ice. He makes her scream out in that schism of agony and pleasure. And he wants me to watch so I can imagine myself in her place… and I don’t have to imagine long because Master is soon doing the same to me.

We are his. And while he is our Master, we cannot put demands on him. Living as a submissive feels like marriage -- I love my Master completely. The collar on my neck is like a wedding band. I begged for it, begged to have a collar that shows to the world that I am owned. But I do not own my Master.

Master had been away and had no slaves when he found me. I was his only slave, and I thought how lucky I was to have such a wonderful Master to myself. I didn’t want to have to share him, I knew I would if he asked, but I felt special as his Only One.

I didn’t know what it was to be a slave, especially in this world where I have to go to work and pretend to be an executive. A slow building of anxiety started to creep into my soul after a week of nakedness, of new tasks, of learning what pleases my Master and feeling Master discover my kinks and use them to bind me to him.

Master is wonderful at taking me apart, making me see and admit to things I didn’t know were inside me. And he is wonderful at putting me back together. But he is my Master. There are things that a strong willed man can’t understand; even a compassionate, empathic man like Master.

By the end of the first week with Master I found myself frantically texting a friend of mine who I knew was a sub. I told her in my message that I needed to see her, that there are very few people I could talk to, maybe nobody other than her.

When we sat down at lunch and I explained that I had been collared, like her, it was like a world opened up and we could take off our disguises and really talk. I mean Really Talk. Talk about how it feels when Master yanks on your chain, talk about the confusion, talk about the emotional turmoil of being a slave and having to go to work with people who would never understand…

She told me about “sub crashing” or “sub drop” when after all those endorphins from being so on edge fall away leaving you empty and an emotional wreck. She told me to call or text any time because she knows how amazing it is to be owned, and how hard it is to deal with such an amazing gift.

She is owned by someone very different than my Master, but we are Sisters. Not just a friend who I’ve hung out with. Suddenly she is one of the most important people in my life. Someone who knows this person who I have to hide when I am out in the world. Someone who I trust, completely and love in a very different way than my Master.

I was so happy when Master brought more slaves to our household -- not competition for my Master’s attentions but Sisters who I can share with. I am not alone, even when Master is away. I have Sisters to talk to when I feel unsure, and I have Sisters to help please Master.

I know it looks like a male fantasy, a man with his harem. But, really, it is somehow my female fantasy come true. I have a Master who knows me better than I know myself, and I have a loving, supportive Sisterhood where I can be completely that person Master sees in me.

Connected. Loved. Owned.

OhShelly (slaveoh) Floor Exercise

2015-06-21T17:16:00.004-07:00

I am on the floor, my butt sticking up in the air, the tips of my breasts dragging in the fibers of the area rug in the basement.

Master commands, “1.”

move slowly forward, the rough shag rug catches my nipples, not caressing so much as scritching and scratching, making them crinkle slightly and sending mixed messages of pleasure and discomfort to my brain.

“2”

I move slowly back, feeling my ass move further into the air as my nipples are tortured and pleasured again by the rug. My back hurts as I try not to collapse as I move slowly enough to have room to change direction when my Master calls the reverse command.

“1”

His command moves me forward again bringing my ass back down from its height as I stretch forward, nipples almost screaming with mixed messages of “ouch” and “ooooo.” My knees are burning as I grind them into the carpet.

“2”

My nipples are on fire as I drag them back along the carpet again. My wetness cools my pussy and I am certain that my rising ass distracts my Master, but the carpet on my sensitive skin distracts me more.

“1”

He changes direction on me suddenly, and I have to begin the slide back down to the floor. The fact I don’t know when he will make me change direction adds to my distraction, making it harder to think. Making me more his plaything.

“2”

My legs and arms are trembling. My shoulders are shaking as I try not to crush my breasts into the carpet Holding myself in this position, ass up, shoulders down. He calls this routine “report” and has told me that he will want me to give him my status while doing this.

“1”

The ache in my body, the burning of my nipples, the air over my spread ass and pussy…. my brain no longer has any thought but the routine I perform for my Master. I am a trembling, quivering creature, begging for release both from my physical exhaustion and my sexual desire.

I am his plaything. My release is not up to me. I will continue until Master allows it.

OhShelly (slaveoh) Master? May I pee?

2015-06-21T17:13:00.001-07:00

My Master’s rule is simple: peeing requires permission. The rule reminds me that he owns my body, that he decides when I cum, and when I pee. It is not my pussy, it is his pussy.

Master wants me to feel his control when we are apart. He wants me to feel the need to find him and beg to pee. He wants me to feel the pressure in my bladder like the tightness of my collar around my neck.

He is not cruel; he wants me to be aware of the pussy that I take care of for him. If he is not available to ask, he allows me to wait 30 minutes and pee without permission and report that I have peed.

I am an obedient slave. I complied. And it was easy; I have always had a large bladder. I have rolled my eyes at my friends who have to “pee every 20 minutes.” This was an easy rule for me. My Sisters may have to scamper to our Master and beg, but I could be the calm, collected slave and wait for my Master and calmly ask.

My Master’s second command was also simple: drink water. Lots of water. Eight ounces every thirty minutes to start. It was as if he had tightened my leash and tugged me towards him.

He knew I had a long car trip home. He allowed me to pee before getting in the car, but my body wasn’t used to so much water and soon the pressure began to build. I am a good slave, I drank more water in the car. And soon it was almost unbearable.

I stopped at the store, feeling the ache in my bladder and the tired muscles holding back the flood. I pulled out my phone to contact Master and ask to pee. The screen was shattered, little cracks running through the glass in every direction made it impossible to use the touch screen. Impossible to contact my Master and ask to pee.

I don’t know how it happened. It was fine when I had put it in my purse, but I was holding a useless block in my hand. My Master’s slave needed to pee and she could not contact him!

I rushed home with my bladder screaming. Every bump in the road was a yank on my collar. All I could think of was getting to my Master. I found myself pressing my thighs together, feeling more owned as it got harder to keep from wetting myself.

Master was online!

“Master!” He didn’t respond… “Oh oh oh…. please be here… “

“I am”

“Ohhhh.... Your slave needs to pee so badly Master!”

“Pee now. As instructed.”

That is Master’s other rule: when I pee, I must grip my clit tightly. When he gave me the rule I thought it was just one of those things we do for men to please them, but isn’t pleasurable for us. But now I was sitting on the toilet needing to pee so badly that my entire body ached. My clit was no exception. The aching in my groin from needing to pee was also making my clit full and sensitive.

I pinched, and I peed. It hurt, it was messy, making me spray the bowl and getting urine on my thighs… but… it was arousing. My breathing was fast and shallow, the pain of pinching my clitoris balanced by the pleasure release of urine. The dirtiness of my action filled me with pleasure for obeying my Master’s orders.

When I was done, I sat for a moment, almost dazed by the experience. I wiped myself, went to the sink, grabbed a washcloth and cleaned my thighs and gently wiped my vagina, feeling the tremors of arousal forming.

But it is not my pussy, it is owned by my Master, and I am not allowed to play with it without his permission, so I returned to my Master to kneel before him. He was punishing my sister for peeing without asking. She couldn’t hold it and went too early.

Master has me drinking water so I can feel the same need to pee like my sisters, to feel that pressure build, and panic knowing I must find my Master... and beg... “Master? May I pee?”

OhShelly (slaveoh) Kneeling-Servicing Master

2015-06-21T17:11:00.004-07:00

I kneel before him in submission. Open. Available. The low wires of the corset that binds my waist hold my breasts firmly on display. I see my chain leading down from my collar laying in the valley between my breasts, stretching across the open space between us, leading from me to his firm control.

He stands before me. I can only see my breasts, my chain, and his legs. I look up slightly to his crotch and… hunger.

I am his slave. He sees me naked at his command; sometimes he rips my clothes off as I kneel passively before him. He makes me kegel on command. He makes me cum on demand. I am a sex toy that he has tested, but never used.

I want to be used. As I kneel before him looking at the material of his black trousers, I wish I could get just a little closer… I imagine him removing his pants and shirt, standing naked and powerful before me. Erect. Commanding and demanding.

I imagine his cock brushing my face. I remain submissive, for that is my role. But it is not my desire. I wish to reacith one hand and press his warm shaft into my cheek, feeling the softness of his skin and the hardness of his arousal. Gently gripping it in my hand, feeling it get harder, feeling it get warmer, feeling my own desire get warmer.

I look up at him… his wordless command is clear. “Continue.”

My hand wraps around the base of his cock and I taste the tip. The sweet taste of his precum makes me salivate for more. The musky smell of his crotch makes my breath catch. He is not just a man, he is my Master. He keeps me on edge, always ready, always horny. Smelling him is like a drug to an addict…. I nearly cum before I can even begin.

Then I take him in my mouth as I grip and pull gently at the base of his cock. He is large and hard and I struggle to take much of him in. I want it so badly, to let my mouth be a pussy for him. I take his balls in my other hand, softly gripping his sack.

It hurts my jaw. It stretches my lips. I pull back trying not to show him my discomfort -- just because it hurts doesn’t mean I am not completely aroused by being here. I want it to hurt. I want to feel it, taste, it be part of him….

I work my mouth along the outside of his shaft, licking and sucking the side of his cock. Tasting… smelling… immersing myself. When I reach the base I bury my nose in his hair, his overpowering musk erasing what little conscious mind is left.

My nose is in his crotch. One ball in my mouth, my cheeks on his thighs, my own thighs aching as my pussy gets hot and wet. I work my hand up and down his shaft as I continue to nurse his balls.

I feel his legs flex and stiffen. I don’t want his seed to go to waste, I want it in me. I reverse my movements, moving back up his shaft, gently squeezing his engorged balls with my hand, and then I take a breath and swallow him. My body wants to gag, but my soul wants to be impaled by him and suddenly, against any law of physics or anatomy, my nose is buried in his public hair again, only this time the head of his cock is buried in my throat.

I can’t breathe, but I hold myself in place, tears beginning to form. I swallow around the beautiful invader, and it stiffens. I want to pull up to breathe but his hands are on the back of my head, holding me in place. My swallowing around his cock becomes twitching as I try to gasp for breath…. My lips start to tingle, my head is light, either from arousal or lack of air, it doesn’t matter, I am more aroused than ever.

Just as I think I’m going to start to black out, his hands are gone and I come up for air. The drool drips down my chin and onto my breasts. My eyes are streaming with tears. I can’t imagine what I look like to him, and I don’t care. As soon as I catch my breath I dive into the depths of my Master’s need again -- I say his need, but it is my need as well. I need him to cum, because he doesn’t allow it of me. His pleasure is my pleasure, and I am lost in him.

This time his hands are like a vice, and then it happens. He thrusts against my face, crushing my nose against his hard crotch. And he cums. His cock is well inside my throat, bypassing any need to swallow, but I do anyway, reflexively milking his seed into my body as my own arousal tips over the edge.

Then I fall back… gasping, drooling spit and semen… taken… used… spent… and fulfilled. I don’t know if I came at all, or maybe I was cumming the entire time. My body still shudders as I try to return to naduw. My spirit is vibrating.

My devotion is complete. As am I.

OhShelly (slaveoh) I am a collared slave

2015-06-21T16:56:00.000-07:00

I was reading the Atlantic Monthly…. I know, this isn’t how most slave stories begin, but it is true. They were talking about online social experiments that failed because they tried to imitate the real world and, apparently, online isn’t offline.

“[Second Life]’s not abandoned; it’s simply waiting.”

An abandoned world just waiting for me to explore! Wonderful! So I logged in, set up my “college girl” avatar and started exploring.

I was immediately drawn to the adult sections. In the first hour or so I found free shops with adult oriented clothing, got a tattoo when I put on a kimono, flew around... and found myself in the Bondage Ranch and found that Second Life is not abandoned.

I met a man by a fire. He was… intriguing. Strong. Quiet. Compassionate. Well spoken. He warned me about the world I was exploring. He warned me about the people. He warned me about my own desires, without knowing that he was doing so (or maybe he did).

My repressed submissive personality took over. I sat before him and apologized that I could not kneel. He gave me an animation file, and I was able to “naduw” before him; kneel with my knees spread, giving access if he desired. I know, it sounds weird, but it was so natural I hardly thought of it. Or, really, I felt so normal that sitting, legs spread, before a stranger (even in a VR world) just felt... "right."

He took me shopping for a skin and maybe new hair. Just to let me know that there was more to experience than the free avatars. And we talked, and I was drawn further to him. But soon I left him and explored more on my own.

And I met someone else. She was “a girl with a cock.” She was demanding, but not commanding. She wanted someone, but it didn’t seem to matter who, and I ended up being that person. It was still play acting for me. 3D puppets. It’s “Second Life” I can leave anytime.

And then she collared me.

I felt it in my soul. Second Life is virtual, but it is still real. As my avatar fell to her knees at my Mistress’s control I knew I had done something very wrong. I know, I could have just logged out. I have other email addresses, I could have created a brand new account and started over.

But I was collared. And I was a slave.

Fortunately I wasn’t what she was looking for. Fortunately she took pity on a girl born to the world of Second Life just that day. Fortunately, she let me go.

And without knowing how or why, I found myself back with Him. Kneeling before him. Asking… no begging, to be his slave. Knowing this time what I was doing. Knowing that there is only one life, and that “me” in a simulator is still “me” and that the connections and promises I make affect me no matter where I am.

He asked me more than once. He asked me in different ways. He wanted to be sure I knew that this wasn’t just Second Life. This is Life. And I was sure.

This entire person was inside me. This beautiful slave who wants to please her Master. She knew what it was to be a Slave. Until the collar was locked around my neck, I called him Sir. Then… he was Master.

The feeling of being collared… oh…. I can’t entirely explain it. It’s like the floor falls away and you’re in freefall, but like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, a safe freefall. I felt myself get wet. I felt my breathing change. I was excited. But… I was at peace.

And that part of me that I kept hidden away for so many years, that sweet, pleasing salve girl that I could never be in the real world, that girl who always asks her Master’s permission before even asking a question… dominated me.

I am her. I am collared on 6/5/15 by Durn Trilling and willingly accept and serve him as my Master. He owns, mentors, shapes, and protects me as I learn this new life.

His challenges reach into the physical world outside of Second Life. The day without panties was…. erotic. The wedging was unbearably stimulating…. When he asks me what I am, I answer simply.

“Yours.”

Because I am. Willingly. Happily. Unconditionally.

His.

saramoon on being collared

2010-06-10T17:55:00.000-07:00

Master takes me...

i am owned.

i have no words to describe what it means to me Master

it is like looking beyond the horizon

like letting go what you didnt know was there

it scares me to feel the trust i have in you Master

and yet i take it as a drug

and risk everything for the rush in my heart

Master sees me...

i am beauty.

i feel the beauty when i give my self to you Master

it is not a constant feeling i carry

more a state of mind you miraculously woke in me

you see my great weakness and my modest power Master

and still you are craving me so clearly

beautiful it is to be at your feet

Master touches me...

i am open.

yes you touch me in any possible place Master

i was recisting for a while

and you did touch me so that i in time could open

being open is being completely vulnerable Master

it sometimes makes me burst into tears

like a million doors open in me

Master uses me...

i am pleasure.

by using me you give me the deepest pleasure Master

it is sex, submission, devotion and love

powerful it calms my brain and wakes my river

i proudly wear the pleasure i give you Master

like a queen wears her crown

will dare to say i'll give you everything you want

Master holds me...

i am treasure.

how you are holding me makes me defenseless Master

i leave my worries and i welcome you

i am so fully desiring to be held by you

i might feel like a treasure to you Master

but the value lies is how it becomes possible

holding me gives me great courage

Master delves me...

i am revealed

i feel your tenacity makes me visible Master

your interest causes my willingness

i become so fully transperent

how you persistently reveal me bit by bit Master

it makes me strangely complete

for that i kneel and give you everything

Master embraces me...

i am loved

how often did you ask if i feel your love Master

love used to scare me a great deal

always turned out to be something else

how you love me embraces me and burns me Master

it is a tree growing every day

it is my shadow it is my shelter

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Master...

grateful is my heart

lovely to be yours

lucky i feel

devoted i am

my heart is sighing

everything is quiet

yes love turned out

to be something else

i am fully owned

The Olive Tree

2010-03-03T14:58:00.001-08:00

A confused sub came before a wise Master who adored her. She felt that to submit to him would mean she would open her heart to unbearable pain should he ever leave her. She hungered for him and needed him, but was ready to walk away in panic.
The gentle Master knelt her before him and started a tale of love and devotion. As she looked up at him his arms began to widen and open like a large tree stretches its branches to the sky. At that moment the Master appeared rooted to the floor and his impressive size towered above her like a giant tree. Then he began to speak.
I'm here for you… now and always no matter how far time and space takes us… Whether you walk away from me today or you stay and serve me I will not turn from you. I am as patient as time itself; I will take not from you unless you give freely and completely of yourself, but I give onto you regardless – for my love is unconditional… Like the Olive tree that can both feed you and shade you, I am there seemingly eternal to your short life on this earth. If you need my fruit to feed your hunger I will give you all the fruit you need. If your skin grows dry and losses its luster, the oil from my fruit will restore it and make it glisten. When you need comfort my leaves will gently caress your face with the slightest breeze. When you need discipline my branches will correct you when the wind blows strong. If you just need my shade to protect you from the sun, my branches will shade and protect you. If you need warmth at night my fallen branches will fuel the fire to keep you warm and safe. If you need a refreshing breeze my leaves will fan you and cool you.
You are my gardener. When you submit to me, you tend that which keeps me vibrant and full of life. When you kneel under me and till the soil, you give breath to my roots. When you water me, my sap flows strong through me raising my limping branches. When you soil yourself collecting fertilizer with your bare hands, you strengthen and humble me with your devotion. Although my life will go on, life would not be the same without you. Your dedication and unconditional care for me keeps me vibrant and nurtures my very core. The sustenance and protection I give you seems little reward for your servitude. Still the gardener serves the tree from her heart and the tree gives to her heart all that he can. I am planted firmly on the ground and cannot follow you if you walk away from me… But be assured I will survive. One hundred years later and two of your lifetimes, I will still be there, waiting for you in the same spot to offer you all that I do now.
Stay with me and be my gardener. You cannot get lost in me for we are complementary to each other. I am your devotion and you give meaning to my existence. Apart, we live life and survive, together we bloom eternally.
As the Master finished his last words the sub cried herself to sleep at his feet. That night… he stood planted there like the Olive tree offering her his unconditional love and protection as she slept. As she would tend to him with her devotion the next day and every day thereafter.
Author unknown

Ravi's husband writes...

2009-01-24T00:10:00.000-08:00

You asked me to write something about the effects Second Life have had on you & our relationship. I seldom see things superficially, even if I'm wrong. So--here goes!

You seem captivated by a sense of sexual self-discovery and self-realization which is a big part of living. Naturally, I was at first, and still remain to some degree, concerned about who you're interacting with. But, as I love you & as I feel your love for me, I can just try to balance my protective instinct with my faith in you.

You told me that you want to become a sexual submissive and even slave. Certainly, the novelty and abandonment both have thrilled and captivated you. I'm glad to see you thrilled and appreciate that, in part, your sexual experiences will lead to your gratification, not just in general, but in our relationship. No doubt our sex has been hot, deeply satisfying to me and even more to my liking, enabled me to satisfy you, in ways I've never experienced before.

So, ironically, by entering into a sexual dependency on your online Master, you've helped reengage our sexual excitement, after 9 years of marriage. This is enlivening & rekindles our youthful passion--that which makes us feel most alive.

There is alot of irony, though, since you're delving into a relationship which conceivably might fundamentally alter the state of our marriage and create priorities in your life beyond it. One irony is this: living beings strive to be free. At its root, freedom is the essence of life--something inert, like a stone, possesses no freedom--its history is determined completely by things outside itself and immutable properties within. But any living being, which moves, breathes & aspires, exercises its freedom--or tries to--at every step. Auden wrote (in his paean to WB Yeats) that we are 'almost convinced of our freedom.'

Since I love you--and you too are the love of my life--the fear of losing you to someone or something else is poised against the desire to see you free. You seem to be saying that you feel free, as a slave. That is if not a contradiction, at least a paradox. As your lover, I have to balance the actual loving of you, which is to help you to live your life as freely as you can, with the desire to both possess & protect you, which is also a basic instinct.

No amount of intelligence, or asperity, can affect the striking of these balances. We don't love solely with the rational mind, but also with an ineffable commitment, unique to the unfolding of our personal-time (or "world line," to borrow from physics) because we can only act 'now' & moment-to-moment--and love requires commitment.

So for now, I choose to observe my commitment to you quixotically--by still desiring to possess and protect you--but also, from the profound respect you've always commanded in me, from the time I met you--to permit you to 'let go,' a la Erika Jong. I will try to learn from you--what excites you, what you want--and hope I can be there with you as you seek the freedom & happiness which I want for you, every day of your life.

Collaring...(Jane)

2008-12-09T07:37:00.000-08:00

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)

2008-10-27T20:43:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-10-24T22:48:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-10-08T16:17:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-07-15T03:50:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-04-09T19:30:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-04-08T00:33:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-04-08T00:32:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-03-21T12:51:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-03-21T12:49:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-03-18T09:06:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-03-18T08:59:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-17T23:05:00.000-07:00

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

2008-02-25T19:33:00.001-08:00

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)

2008-01-27T22:57:00.000-08:00

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.