Memoirs of a Mistress

Piercings

2008-07-13T00:59:00.000-07:00

Almost two years ago I went over to an old friend's house and asked him to pierce my tongue. It'd been a while since I'd seen him, but everything felt like home. I won't lie and tell you all that I wasn't nervous, but it could have been worse. I could have been sitting in front of a guy I didn't know at all and trusting him to punch a hollow needle nearly three inches long through my tongue. Instead, I had a loving friend who would soon grab my tongue with a metal clamp and shove a cold, hollow, nearly three inch needle through my tongue. Most will still wince reading that.

Body piercings had always intrigued me. Since entering high school, I'd wanted to delve into the world of tattoos and piercings. There is something erotic and the sense of taboo nature about them makes my body stir in ways that can only be rivaled by acts of intimacy.

When I had my ears pierced the first time, I was only 16. It was done with a piercing gun and was rather traumatic. Nothing like hearing the clang of a gun firing a metal stud into your ear lobe to scare the shit out of a teenager. I let the holes close. Then came the tongue as mentioned above. The whole experience left me wanting for more. The sound created when the needle pierces through the muscle can't really be explained. It's a sound you can feel through your jaws and neck. In fact, it turned me on in ways I'd never felt before. I rather enjoyed it. After the tongue, I had my ears re-pierced with the same method: a hollow needle. It wasn't traumatic in the least.

Now nearly two years later I finally needed another piercing fix

But what next?

My nipples.

At first I wasn't sure it would be a great idea. My nipples are extremely sensitive and play a huge part in my Mistress endeavors. I didn't want to harm them or decrease sensitivity in any way. However, after a long talk with my friend, he convinced me that with my breast size there wouldn't be much nerve damage if any at all. So, for the Fourth of July I asked him to pierce me.

The first step was marking the nipples to make sure the piercings are even and level. It was interesting how comfortable I felt kneeling in front of him topless. He kept a conversation rolling, which I was thankful for (yes, even this Mistress gets nervous). After marking them, he had me lay down on the floor. After a little more conversation, he lifted the familiar clamp and positioined it over the markings. Next came the hollow needle. It was quick and mostly painless, but the pain it did produce simultaniously made me want to cry out with pain and moan with pleasure. The second nipple hurt more, but that was just because I knew it was coming.

Anyways, the whole experience was something I can't quite explain. After the piecing we both sat around trying to figure out how one could explain it (he had his nipples pierced twice). The best explination we can muster is that it feels much like removing nipple clamps after wearing them for a prolonged period of time. There is an initial sting and afterwards, it's replaced with a sensation that makes the loins stir.

I can't wait till I can add my next piercing. It'll be something even more intimate. And with that, I'll let your minds wander. Till next time...

New Gag

2008-05-28T13:11:00.000-07:00

While this blog isn't updated as often as I'd like, that isn't to say that the world behind my conservative exterior doesn't live on. Quite the contrary, my personal life is buzzing with wonderful things all the time.

A few nights ago, my slave presented a new gift to me. It's a wonderfully little new gag. The only difference is that this gag, while complete with a ball to secure inside one's mouth, has a complete head harness. It looks lovely once everything is strapped in place and it keeps my slave almost dead quiet.

Latex

2008-04-16T21:28:00.000-07:00

So, an unfortunate thing I hadn't considered when ordering things over the internet is that something may not come in top condition...

I ordered a latex catsuit for bedroom pleasures and it came defective. Since the website has no return policy, I decided to do a little work on it myself. Being the impatient Mistress though, I held off in order to strut my stuff for my slave one night.

The suit ripped to a point that I am unsure can be fixed, but the look on my slaves face was one I plan on seeing again.

There is something morbidly amusing seeing my slave get weak in the knees when he entered the room. He could have cum right then in there, but like a loyal and well behaved slave, he always holds his pleasures until his Mistress commands.

Next step is to have a latex catsuit custom fitted. I may have ot visit San Francisco or Los Angeles for that.

Road trip? Yes, please.

A Bit Behind

2008-03-17T01:50:00.000-07:00

No, there were no pictures like I said might come. I have some, but I've decided to leave photography out of the equation for this blog. Putting faces, or bodies, to the words would be even more dangerous than the things already written within...if one were to believe everything written here in the first place.

Do you believe?

Why else would you come back?

*grins*

Anyways, something has come to my attention. It would seem that my slave requests certain forms of pleasure more than others. The one thing my slave requests with more frequency is anal sex. My, my, my. Have I been falling a bit behind? Or is my lack of falling behind my slave that is causing such desires? My slave obviously wants to be completely dominated and up until recently, I felt I was doing quite well.

My mistake entirely, I suppose.

I'll have to remedy the situation soon.

I don't need my slave ending up with a wandering eye because this Mistress was too blind to realize her slave needed some different types of stimulation.

It looks like tomorrow requires a trip to the store...or a few stores.

Just thinking about it makes my loins stir.

V-Day Success

2008-02-15T15:57:00.000-08:00

Spectacular!

I have succeeded in the plans to make this year's Valentine's celebration worth while. My slave took very well to his new toys and behaved like a perfect subservient. I was in awe at how quickly he took to the most restrictive of the pieces I ordered upon him.

The lacing of my new corset was a wonderful feeling as well. He has become skilled in dressing me as I desire and never hesitates after a command.

More shall come and if I feel particularly giving, I may share some photos with you all.

Time will tell.

A Slave's Treat

2008-02-04T13:58:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day is fast approaching and the weight of it is accompanying the day. While some view the day as just another marketing ploy to sell merchandise, I have come to love it for purely selfish reasons.

A few years ago, before I took my first permanent slave, I used the day as my play day. Shopping ensued and more often than not, I came home with bag after bag of merchandise. These pretty containers were not filled with any ordinary items though. Within the confines of each laid a tasty treat for myself. Sometimes they held stockings and lingerie. Other times they were filled with silk sheets or personal toys. No matter what came in them, the bag most assuredly revealed a side of me very few get to witness first hand.

This year marks the first year of matured Mistresshood. Every year leading up to this one was riddled with mistakes and slaves claiming false loyalty (and the majority of them backed out of my life just as I revealed my true colors). This year though, I have a loyal slave who is also permanent object of my affection. Much to my dismay though, my slave loathes Valentine's Day.

This year I aim to change my slave's mind.

Here is where things get tricky though.

For the past month I have been attempting to choose the perfect present for him. I've found more than enough that would bring him to his knees, but the issue arises when I try to narrow down my choices to an affordable range (BDSM isn't a cheap lifestyle).

I am unsure whether I should spend money on myself and give him the eye candy he deserves or if I should spend money on him and make him feel like he is being adorned like a king. The choice is a difficult one and I have very little time to choose.

Voyeurism

2008-01-30T09:35:00.000-08:00

Last week marks the first time my slave and I participated in an act of voyeurism. It isn't something I haven't done before, but for a slave as shy as mine can be in front of others, it was a huge stepping stone.

With the help of some very tasty beverages, I managed to command my slave in the bedroom with an audience. He squirmed and laughed uneasily at first, but when he saw the seriousness in my gaze, he was quick to react. The show wasn't as long or as interesting as I would have liked it to be, but for his first time I was pleased that he was so willing to try.

We made arrangements to do it again, but the exact date and time have been put on hold. We do have our lives outside of fetish to consider. Although, a lifestyle that offers more time for play would be greatly appreciated. I fear my sexual appetite is growing exponentially since finding others that are interested in what my slave and I do. Their curiosity feeds me.

This Mistress wants more playtime.

Wish me luck in my endeavors.

An Evening In

2007-12-19T10:46:00.000-08:00

For days the rain had been beating outside. Their home was cold; the kind of cold that clings to your bones and makes old sports injuries ache. She was exhausted from a hectic month coming to a close. Still so many things to do, but none of them settled into the forefront of her mind. Instead she turned her attentions to him: her friend, her dream come true, her lover, her slave.

Through the stress and tension of the past month, she'd neglected him more than she was willing to admit. Too many days had been left without instruction. Too many nights had been left undone.

Tonight would change that.

Pulling on her jacket, she said her final goodnights to the few left in the office before braving the winter weather outside. The rain forced her to pull her hood up, shielding what little warmth she could keep during the short walk to her car.

"Hello my lady in red." She purred at her car as she approached it. Quickly hopping into the drivers seat, she was comforted by the soft growl that emanated from under the hood. Just as a loyal slave would, this beauty sprung to life beneath her hands. The red sports car handled beautifully on the wet streets and carried her homeward.

Half an hour later, she was walking into her home. She smiled every time she opened the door and this time was no different. There, perched on the back of the couch, was her favorite feline. He cooed at her entrance and then pranced off towards the bedroom where she assumed she would find her slave lounging on the bed.

She paused at the hall closet to pull off her wet jacket and it was then that she noticed a familiar scent. For years, she'd been horribly addicted to scented lotions, candles, and incense. Her slave knew this fact well and was always quick to use her favorite lotion after he prepped for her. It was that very scent that slithered through the hallway now and caused something to stir within her loins.

Shedding her jacket, shoes, and other daily belongings, she slowly rounded the corner of the hall and made her way to the master bedroom. The scent grew stronger and once she stepped through the bedroom door, her eyes followed a slow line towards the bed.

There he stood, waiting for her calmly. For a moment she did nothing, her eyes wandering over him and drinking in every detail. His eyes were covered with a red, silk scarf and just below, pinned between moist lips, was a rope gag securely held. Encircling his neck was the same collar she always placed him in and dangling from its thick metal loop was her favorite silver chain lead. Around his torso he had tightened (to the point that his breaths were shallow at best) a beautiful black and crimson corset, which made for a splendid contrast against his fading summer tan. Following the lines of his hips with her gaze, she smiled at the way the thigh highs he wore hug wonderfully to his sculpted thighs and ran the length of his legs until meeting with the shiny, black pumps he loved so much.

What a sight he was to behold and in these moments, she wished it wasn't just her that could appreciate his loveliness. She'd wanted to share everything with the world and taunt the outsiders with the fact that only she could command him. It was only her voice and firm hand that led him into action. Oh, how she wanted to display him with pride, like the Masters and Mistresses did with their slaves in A. N. Roquelaure's novels, in front of a sea of fascinated onlookers. But no one understood their lives. No one understood their dedication. It was sad, really. No one would ever understand.

Breaking free of the thought, she finally realized that there was music playing in the background. A soft melody emanated from his side of the bed...something she'd not yet heard before. It distracted her long enough that when her eyes finally moved back towards her slaves face, he had lifted his head in her direction.

A soft, questioning whimper slipped from him and it made her smile.

Still silent, she walked over to him at the end of the bed. Nimble fingers touched the gag, careful not to touch his skin, before retreating.

Again he whimpered.

This time, her hands moved in unison and before he had time to respond, she had one palm on his chest and the other gripping his waist at the side as she spun him to face the bed. Never once did she touch his flesh as she then bent him over the end of the bed, a knee raising to force his legs apart.

Satisfied with his position for the moment, she rounded the side of the bed to stroke his soft face. She was pleased with his display of submissiveness, but every fiber of her being twitched with mischievous hunger. She wanted to take him tonight and her body almost betrayed this fact. If only he could feel the moisture quickly growing between her thighs. Then he would know she approved.

However, she rarely allowed such gratification.

Determined strides carried her away from the bed and towards the closet. Flicking on the light, she reached into the black bag they left zipped in the closets corner. Slowly she unzipped it, letting the sound from the metal teeth permeate the silence. Inside her eyes danced over her options and, finally deciding on the leather cuffs and thick nylon rope, she returned to his side.

He had undoubtedly heard the rattling of the cuffs' metal loops because as she took her place behind him once again, his hips began to grind against the soft, silk sheets.

Grabbing the crop she kept dangling from the bedpost, she brought it down hard against his buttocks. "Tsk, tsk." She whispered before bringing the thin leather down across his flesh once more. This time he winced, raising his hips away from the bed instinctively.

Setting the crop beside him on the bed, she knelt to secure a thick leather cuff around each of his ankles. Never once did she touch his legs though. She knew he loved the feel of her hands sliding up the backs of his calves and the way the nylon felt when she brushed against him. Instead, she reached up for the crop once more. Dragging it across his buttocks, she tapped the inside of his thighs until he was completely spread between the two posts at the foot of the bed. Like a good slave, he had already placed the rope bindings on each post. Looping the nylon rope through the ankle cuff rings, she quickly knotted him into position.

For a moment she hovered there behind him. She could smell her own excitement and it made ache terribly. Too many nights she denied herself satisfaction. It was her love of pain that drove her to such lengths, because every day and night that she withheld from release meant the next encounter could be even more satisfying than the past would have been. She loved the punishment.

Oh, how she loved punishment.

With that thought stewing in her head, she stood again and gave a few light taps to his scrotum with the crop. She loved the way he twitched beneath each tap. Grinning, she rounded the side of the bed once more to secure one of the wrist cuffs. Her eyes came to rest upon his face. His cheeks were flushed a soft rose and every breath seemed a chore against the gag. It was an amazing sight to see.

Tearing her gaze away from him, she stretched his right arm up towards the head of the bed and secured another rope through its metal ring. The rope was tied low enough at the post so that once both arms were secured, his chest and hips would be pressed firm against the bed. Walking around to the other side of the bed, she did just that.

The binding was finished now, but something about the whole picture was wrong. Tilting her head to one side, she lifted the crop and began slowly spanking him as she contemplated the missing elements of her design. Suddenly she realized what was missing and rushed towards the closet.

Returning with a soft, yet sturdy pedestal of sorts, she propped his chin up so that his gaze would meet the wall at the head of the bed. Conveniently she had purchased a mirror to span the area between the head posts not even a week ago. Now she was glad that she had made the purchase because it gave a perfect vantage point for nights like these.

Disappearing again, she decided it was time to don her Mistress attire. Shedding her work clothes, she pulled what looked like a hanging travel bag from the back of the closet. Sliding the zipper open, a grin slipped over her lips.

Catsuits.

Freeing the black, latex catsuit from its hanger, she walked back out into the room and towards the dresser. Pulling open the drawer, she removed the latex powder from its place and began dusting herself with it. Within a few moments she had the latex catsuit secured against her flesh, but this was only the beginning. Back into the closet she went for her waist cincher. Wrapping the red leather around her midsection, she pulled the thick ties until it wouldn't budge any farther. Tying them off, she pulled a large box from the top shelf and removed the lid. It always made her legs tingle when she saw the six inch ballerina heels and every time it took her what seemed a lifetime to put them on and lace them. Her whole dressing experience was an art form. There was no rushing her and even the helpless whimpers from her slave in the other room weren't enough to disrupt her. Still, even with the catsuit, waist cincher, and heels on, she wasn't quite finished.

Walking out into the bedroom once more, she decided it was time to remove his blindfold. She did it quickly and felt him shift in a startled manner when she pulled the silk away from his eyes. He blinked a few times before his eyes settled on her figure. It was then that he tensed and a low, yearning moan slipped from behind the gag.

She smiled down at him before turning to the nightstand. Opening the bottom drawer, she pulled out a brand new dildo and harness. She could feel his eyes on her as she slowly buckled the strap-on around her waist and thighs. Once in place, she grabbed the lube from the same drawer and walked around behind him.

Immediately his eyes were glued to the mirror watching her as she took her stance at the foot of the bed. Soon one of her hands was playing across his buttocks as the other snaked under his chest to find his nipples. She pinched them hard before rolling each one of the hard beads between thumb and index finger. He tried desperately to grind against the bed, but she had tied him in such a way that his body was bent perfectly over the edge. Movement wasn't possible and it made is cock throb painfully.

Slow, patient fingers worked at his asshole until enough lube was in place for her liking. Then her hands retreated and he watched as she thoroughly coated the thick dildo with lube. It would be only moments before she entered him and the anticipation was almost enough to make him cum. He fought the urge though, as it would displease her to the point of anger tonight. Something about her demeanor told him she wanted to prolong things and he wanted to please her.

He was lost in his thoughts as he felt her roughly slam against him. The whole length of the dildo disappeared inside of him and it took every ounce of will not to fight against her. Never before had she been so rough, so carnal. Then he felt her slowly begin to pull out. The sensation filled him to the brim with ecstasy. He felt his legs shudder as she made the first broad stroke into him again and soon his legs gave way with her increasingly violent thrusts.

Before he knew it, she was pounding him so hard that he could see beads of sweat sliding across the shiny latex catsuit. Still she kept going. The cool latex felt amazing against his hot skin and with every thrust, his cock threatened to explode. It wasn't until she reached between them to turn the dildos vibrator setting on that he began to whimper for her to stop. Barely paying attention to anything but her own pleasure, she heard him mumbling.

In one quick motion, she pulled completely out of him and grabbing the crop and brought it down hard against his buttocks. Any threat of his release vanished in that instant and he cried out as best he could behind his gag. She was brutal tonight and he was caught somewhere between excitement and terror. When she moved back, he almost expected a flurry of angry lashes from the crop she still hold tightly.

However, she set the crop down and quickly worked to free his wrists and ankles from their shackles. He smiled behind the gag and wondered if she had finally decided to allow him the pleasure of touching her.

He was terribly mistaken.

"On your back. Now." She snapped the words through what appeared to be clenched teeth. Something was obviously different about her. Quickly his eyes flashed around the room. No one else was here with them that he could see, but the only other time she'd seemed so cold was in the presence of another slave other than himself. When he looked back at her, she had a look of disapproval upon her face. Whimpering, he flipped onto his back and before he could even settle, she began putting the wrist cuffs back on him.

When she had asked him to place rope tethers at the top and bottom of the foot posts, he had envisioned being spread-eagle at the foot of the bed. Now though, to his horror, she was lifting his legs in order to cuff his ankles to the tethers at the top of each post. The position left him completely exposed and suddenly he felt the blood begin to flow back into his loins again. Despite his efforts, his cock sprang to life and brought a smirk to her lips.

"You two can come in now." She said softly.

His eyes widened and he struggled hard against his bonds. Nothing would let him free though and soon there was another female and male standing at the side of the bed, their eyes locked on his Mistress.

They were completely naked, save for the ornate decorations she had adorned them with. He was thankful for the amount he had chosen to wear now, but longed for the attention that these two new slaves must have received before any of this started. Each of them wore a thick metal collar and matching nipple clamps. Around the scrotum and cock of the male were thick leather straps, forcing what looked to be a very painful erection. The female had something similar, yet very different. Fixed to her labia were steel clamps with tiny bells and dangling from the center like a toy was a single, larger bell that he imagined was attach to her clit.

He squirmed as he stared at the two and finally noticed that every clamp upon their bodies was adorned with bells. Each shuddering breath they made was like music and for a split second he was angry that his Mistress had dressed them so beautifully.

The jealousy soon gave way as he watched her approach both of them with a thick paddle. He knew the strength his Mistress had when wielding a whip, but had never seen her with a paddle. He wondered if it hurt as much or if the welts lingered upon the skin as they did after being whipped. His flesh tingled with the thought and it occurred to him that her love for pain was slowly begin to work its way into his idea of pleasure.

"Down mutts!" She barked the orders and when the female hesitated, she gripped the front of her collar and brought their faces mere inches apart. "Faster next time, you whore. I don't see the males in this room behaving in such a sloppy manner."

She shoved the female down to her knees and rounded her faster than he had ever seen his Mistress move. Before the female could steady herself, his Mistress brought the paddle down across her buttocks and the back of her thighs in a series of sickening blows. It wasn't long before the females face was covered in tears and after his Mistress's anger subsided, she lovingly stroked the females cheeks.

He stared in awe. Both of the newcomers were well trained and obviously knew his Mistress well. There was a mystery about his Mistress and he never knew what tricks she would bring to the bedroom. This one, as frightening as it first was, had become a point of great interest for him. There was something to be learned from the way the male held himself. There was pride in their bodies, despite the strain their faces showed. It fascinated him.

"Come." She motioned for the male to rise and stand at the foot of the bed. "Good. Now, you know what I want. Proceed till he is near his end and then pull away. I won't have you two releasing unless I allow."

He felt the males hands spread his buttocks and enter him roughly. Unlike the dildo, the males cock did not slide so smoothly. Instead, it rubbed his insides in ways that he'd never felt before and soon, his eyes were closed against the rising pleasure. His cock was quick to respond and the male slave did not hesitate in grabbing hold of it and pumping it in time with his thrusts.

Just as the please began to reach its peak though, the male slave pulled out and stood with the tip of his cock still pressed against his asshole. It was teasing and magnificently torturous.

His eyes opened to the sound of the females moans and he struggled to turn his head enough to see her. His Mistress had her bent over and impaled upon the dildo. The females face was contorted and partially covered with thick, black hair. He watched as his Mistress fucked the females ass until the female buckled beneath the thrusts and crumpled to the floor.

That is when the male slave, signaled by the slightest flick of his Mistress's wrist, made his move. He was upon the female like a predator and drove his hungry cock repeatedly into the females hot pussy. Grunts filled the room and the male looked as though he would explode at any moment. But he stopped himself abruptly and stood once more for inspection.

"Good boy." He heard his Mistress coo and then watched her kiss the males cheek. He then watched her approach him one more time, leaving the two other slaves a moments rest.

"You've done well, my love." She smiled down at him, her fingers playing over his still hard cock. "Now, my sweet, your reward is due."

Without another word, both slaves approached the bed. The female climbed up and knelt at his head, awaiting further instruction. His Mistress, unzipping the crotch of her latex suit, straddled him and slid him deep into her dripping, wet pussy. The male rounded the end of the bed again and quickly slid himself back into his asshole.

He writhed beneath his Mistress as she pulled loose the gag and for the first time he was able to speak. "Thank you, Mistress. Thank you."

She only nodded though and then looked up to the female. Soon the female was straddling his face and instinctively his tongue found its way into her pussy. As the female began to moan, his Mistress and the male began to thrust. It was almost more than he could bare...

The hard cock in his asshole...

The hot, wet walls of his Mistress's pussy around his own throbbing cock...

The sweet taste of the pussy he was being forced to eat...

It wasn't long before all four of them were moaning and writhing in unison. Each movement was more pleasure to fuel the fire. Steady, calculated thrusts became more and more urgent as they all climbed to climax together. When the passions mounted, he felt the hot seed spill into his asshole as he released within his Mistress. He strained angrily against his bonds, but found himself enveloped in blinding pleasure. He wanted it to stop, yet he yearned for it to continue.

Slowly, one by one climbed off of him. The slaves retreated from the room quietly and it was only him and his Mistress again. His breathing slowed once more and as his Mistress began to wipe away the remnants of the experience, he felt sleep take him.

My First Mistake

2007-11-29T09:17:00.000-08:00

Having been a Mistress for so many years now, I was beginning to wonder if I was just that good, or if some horrible mistake on my part would explode and ruin everything.

I made my first mistake. Lo and behold, I am not perfect.

The female that I've spoken of in the last couple posts was young, very young. I pursued her as a prospective slave for the sheer fact that she appealed to my physical tastes. That was my mistake.

She informed me yesterday that she would be unable to serve me and at first I was enraged with the decision. I'd never been turned down by someone before like that and it stirred something horrible inside of me. My first instinct was to grab her, bind her, and quite literally torture her until she succumbed to my wishes (something I've done to a willing slave before, but never in anger of actually obtaining something unwanted). I am a Mistress that rules with an iron fist, but slaves are humans too and I don't wish to remove their individuality completely. My slaves are my life. They are something I live for and I treat them as if they are my prized possessions.

I won't give myself the chance to skew what was said and written to me. Rather, I am going to quote directly from the message I received from her (no changes made but I removed names for privacy though):

I know that I said I would do things with you but for once in my life I need to be smart and do somthing with my life. I do want to hang out with you guys and do thing but I need a job and an eduction I need to start setting goles I don't want to be a leach for the rest of my life I need to start taking responsibilty for my actions. You are a wonderful person and I am honred to know you but i hope you understand were i am coming from. If I ever plan to become a nurse that means that I wont have time to do the things I want if you will permit me I would love to still come over to your place and have fun with you when ever I get the chance.

your willing slave **********

Aside from spelling and grammar mistakes (yes, it bothers me), it was a very heartfelt message and I can say that I am proud she wrote it. My response was a bit long winded though, as per usual (again, names were removed):

I'm glad you came to the realization that you did. It has taken me years to convince ********** that he intentionally tries to fail at everything he does. He is a stubborn jackass and he knows it. It took him until this week to even start attempting to succeed at something and now, today, he is going to do training for Me-N-Eds. He'll finally have a job and he shows sincere interest in moving out on his own for once in his life.

You were in the same boat as him, but considering the fact that I haven't known you all that long, I wasn't about to berate you like I do **********. You're a smart girl and I would love to keep you as a close friend above all else. Friends are the backbone of your life once you move out on your own.

Anyways, don't apologize for things. Unfortunately, I am a very hard person to please when it comes to certain things. I tend to find a goal and keep at it till I obtain what I want. And **********, I can honestly say that I want you around and I want you comfortable enough with everyone and I so you have a place to turn when life throws you for a loop. Maybe ********** is already that for you. I know you two talk. If so, then at least I know you're in good hands.

So, with all that said, I want to congratulate you on your very responsible choice. However, you do need to realize that if you are going to make it through life, you can't be serious all the time. Just know that when I take a slave, it isn't about just the sexual aspect. In fact, that doesn't come till later. Anyone who I am Mistress to is like a rare jewel to me. Their entire life is important to me. Don't forget that you always have a place with ********** and I, even if you just need a few good laughs. We're the most bizarre couple I think most people will come across. If you want to take things beyond friends at any time, just ask. Till then, I'll be satisfied and very happy to say that you are my beautiful friend **********.

If you ever need anything, and I mean A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G, call me. Ask anyone and they will tell you that I am more than willing to set aside my life for someone I feel is special to me. You are special to me and you can thank ********** partially for that one. I don't care what it is, call me. If you need to talk, call. If you need to get drunk cause you had a stressful day and want to relax, call. If you need a hug or to feel someone against you as you fall asleep, call. Whatever it is, I can try my best to do anything in my power to help.

Your Loving Mistress,
**********

So, that is what became of her. She has become merely a friend for now, but there are hopes pointing to other things later in life. One does not turn away someone as lovely as her just because she has career and life goals she wants to obtain. No. I'll stand by and watch her grow. Watching the young blossom into adulthood can be quite wonderful and I suspect it will be nothing less with her.

Bitter Sweet

2007-11-27T12:03:00.000-08:00

I was informed that my dear slave, sweet girl that she is, will not be back in town until December. It also appears that she may be getting cold feet as well. My current slave is convinced she will not follow through with the arrangements, but I hold fast to my optimism in this situation. After all, it is rare that I take in a new slave. There are a plethora of them willing, but few that meet my strict requirements. It's something akin to a dance academy. Only the best may enter and yet, few of those spectacular individuals actually make it through the gauntlet alive.

It is unfortunate however, that there are a select few willing to place themselves between me and my prospective slave. I do have another waiting in the wings though if this plan goes awry. Only drawback is that this newest possibility is male. I'm still unsure I want to take another male slave, but we shall see.

People have no idea how intoxicating I can be. Once my nimble fingers place a collar around my slaves neck, they are mine until released from service. I'm a cruel Mistress but like a drug, I am bitter sweet.

A New Slave

2007-11-20T09:05:00.000-08:00

For the past few months, I've enjoyed the company of my favorite slave to date. His willingness to serve is astounding and over time, he's learned to relinquish all power. Trust was key between us and it did take a little while to prove that I am not just a cruel Temptress. There is more to me than meets the eye, which he discovered and has embraced.

Last night though, I was offered another slave. Slender, wonderfully submissive, and eager to learn. She's perfect, despite her complete lack of experience in the world I now dominate over. She can learn though. A few times before, she had expressed her interest and I turned a rather blind eye. She was too young before and it would have been horrible of me to steal away the innocence she still had. Now though, she's experienced her fair share of life and I feel she's ready for me to take under my wing.

Shelter the weak and it gives way to cowardice. Teach the strong and we breed success.

She's willed herself to me as of last night and I plan to carry out the first in a series of training lessons this weekend. I will be updating as we progress. I suspect you will enjoy.

A God is Nothing Without His Goddess

2007-11-14T10:07:00.000-08:00

They cooked breakfast together that morning, an experience that they would never forget. While making blueberry muffins, her favorite, they began attacking each other with flour. Within seconds, the whole kitchen floor was covered in a fine layer of powder. They were completely at peace though, leaving footprints along the tile as they continued with their tasks. She made him fry the bacon while preparing the scrambled eggs. She always hated cooking bacon because, no matter how hard she tried, she always managed to burn herself. Baking was her forte. Not to mention her ridiculous obsession with all things barbecued.

As they finished preparing the meal, she couldn’t help but laugh. “My love, do you realize the mess we have created in your kitchen?”

He looked up from what he was doing, flour smudged his face. “Why yes, darling, we do seem to have made quite the mess.” He looked around for the first time and indeed it looked like a cooking war zone. He laughed when he looked back up to her though. “You’re covered in flour!”

She stood up straight and smiled, beaming with pride. “All good cooks get a bit messy. Besides …” she paused a moment to arrange an orange slice alongside the lovely meal on their plates, “you are covered in flour as well!”

They both found themselves laughing hysterically. She gathered up their plates and walked to the small table next to the kitchen. “Come, my love. Let’s eat. We have time to clean afterwards.”

* * *
The morning passed quickly and soon gave way to a wonderful afternoon. They had eaten everything they had cooked and took their time in enjoying it. Now they stood, staring at the disheveled kitchen. Within moments, they had begun their well practiced cleaning ritual. It was an art for them, maneuvering around each others bodies with perfection.

This time was different though and he stopped suddenly, her eyes locked on her as she bent to gather a towel from the kitchen floor. He couldn’t help himself and soon had her pinned against the counter top, her hands trapped between her thighs and the cabinets below. She had been caught completely off guard and rendered helpless in this position.

Leaning in close, he let his lips brush her neck before whispering. “Looks as though you are mine for the taking …”

He could feel her shudder beneath him, the sound of his voice alone enough to make her lose all train of thought. He had a way of making her crumble, making her melt and lose the ability to formulate words. This was one of those times. He could feel exactly what was going on within her just by listening to the sound of her breathing and the way her heart fluttered uncontrollably.

He closed his eyes and pressing his nose against her neck, he breathed in deeply. “You smell wonderful, angel. So wonderful I could …” He let the sentence trail off, allowing the anticipation of it to build within her. “… so wonderful that I could eat you.”

Again, his words were rewarded. This time, a single moan emanated from the depths of her soul and escaped through now parted lips. They had known the power of words from the beginning of their relationship and that power had carried through everything. Their voices were just as potent as touch, having spent so many months with hundreds of miles between them. They were able to create a connection unlike anything they had seen before. They mastered the ability to express emotions through sound, sight, or touch with perfect equality. It was more than either of them could have dreamed.

“What’s wrong, love?” His tone was playful, the hunger that burned inside him obvious. However, he knew how to stretch the moment … how to get the most unbridled response from her. He smirked, knowing that once he taunted her beyond this point, she would be uncontrollable. She had proved over the years that nothing could stand between her and what she desired. He had been intrigued at first, not to mention overwhelmed by her perfect display of dominance when the need presented itself. Now though, he had turned it into a game.

“Why fight it, love? You know you can’t win. You know that I could just take you right here, right now. Why challenge someone stronger than you …” He paused, a deep chuckle rolling from his lips. “… why challenge a god?” His voice dropped at that moment, the final word escaping his throat in a primal growl.

She stiffened beneath the pressure of his body, her lips pulling back into a mischievous smile. Every single time, she thought to herself, and still it gets my blood rushing. She knew this trick well. She had seen him do this a dozen times and still she was tempted to overpower him.

This time was no different than the rest. He had taught her everything he knew about martial arts, sword play, and self defense. She had been an avid student and most often, brought him to his knees. With a smooth motion, she hooked her foot around the back of his left knee. Her flexibility still astonished him to this day and soon she broke free from him. Before he could grab a hold of a solid object, she had spun around and taken his wrists hostage.

They tumbled to the floor, her knees planted just below his hips and her arms instinctively bared across his throat. She narrowed her eyes, licking her lips and staring down at him. It had taken her some time to perfect this maneuver. She had to learn his point of gravity, learn the exact placement of her legs and arms to keep him at bay. Now, as she watched him struggle beneath her, her voice slid softly from her lips. “A god is nothing without his goddess, my love.”

Only the Beginning

2007-11-10T23:00:00.000-08:00

She panicked when she heard his keys rattling in the door. He could see her perfectly if he looked into his room from the doorway. To her satisfaction though, she had been smart enough to drag her bags into his room. She crawled off the bed as quietly as possible before the door opened. She held her breath, the sound of her heart beating hard in her ears.

She removed her black boots and placed them near her bags; she was stealthy with just socks on. Tip-toeing across the floor, she reached his bed once more and slithered across it. She could hear him in the kitchen and she had to stifle a giggle. She intended to stay there, spread eagle, for him to find. However, her gaze shifted to the small nightstand and a sly grin slipped over her lips.

Stretching out, she lifted the knife from its perch. Hesitating though, she thought of all that could go wrong. He was unaware of her being here and she suddenly feared that he may act out violently if she startled him. Slowly, she placed the knife back and slithered off the bed. It would be easy to sneak around the corner and surprise him without worrying about a sharp blade.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she slid up along the door frame. She pressed her pelvis to it, the wood cool through her jeans. Tilting her head, she listened for his movements. Footsteps sounded from what seemed to be the kitchen and she craned her neck to inspect things.

There he stood, placing a wonderful bouquet of flowers in a tall glass. Her eyes were wide as she glimpsed their beauty and she all but forgot her plan. How did he know I liked those flowers in particular, she asked herself, or is he just that similar to me? She took a shallow breath and ducked back into his room. It seemed so unbelievable that he existed … that she was standing in his bedroom.

Gathering herself again, she peeked around the corner only to discover that he was not there. She covered her mouth, trying to hold back a small whimper. Where is he, she thought. She inched out farther, her eyes searching, until she was standing in the hall. He was no where to be seen.

Narrowing her eyes she walked silently into the kitchen and over to the flowers. Again, she was lost in their beauty. Reaching out with slender fingers, she brushed her fingertips along the petals. She was captivated and completely lost in thought.

* * *

Few things ever went unnoticed with him. He had sensed someone within his room even before he had time to look. He had worked silently with the bouquet, listening for any sighs of her location. What really gave her away was the faint trail of sweetness she seemed to leave behind. The moment he had entered the front door, he had smelt her scent.

Ignoring this though, he had gone about his business wondering when she would surprise him. However, when he finished and found that she had not yet revealed herself, he had ducked into Ali’s room. There he had waited until he heard her soft feet padding on the kitchen floor.

Creeping out into the hall, he spotted her at the sink. She seemed so happy with the flowers, a smile spread over her lips. He paused a moment, simply watching her touch each petal individually. His own lips curled into a soft smile and soon, he was creeping down the hall.

He moved past her silently and he was surprised she hadn’t noticed him at all. However, she did seem quite content with her bouquet. After taking another look at her, he vanished into his bedroom. Suddenly, he remembered that she had the same love for weapons as he did. Walking to his nightstand, he pulled the knife from its place and grinned.

Turning the blade over in his hands, he wondered how she would react to him surprising her with it. A smirk filled his lips and he walked towards the doorway. He had strength over her and he knew she could not hurt herself by trying to wrench free. Gripping the knife in his left hand, he walked out of his room and stalked towards her.

In one smooth motion he slipped his right hand over her mouth and pressed the blade firmly to her throat with the other. He felt her stiffen beneath his grasp, her hands freezing in place atop an irises blue petal. Then slowly, her arms fell to her sides and she pressed back against him. He kept the blade pressed against her exposed throat but released his grasp on her mouth. “Hello love …” he said in a whispered tone.

She didn’t say a word. Instead, he felt the fingers of her left hand upon his thigh. They pressed gently at first, mapping their location for perfect precision. Soon, her arm bent slightly at the elbow and her fingers trailed along the seam of his zipper. He closed his eyes, the unexpected outcome causing him to lose his concentration.

Within moments she had removed the knife from his grip with her other hand and discarded it upon the counter. She stayed facing away from him, her right hand brushing seductively across the front of his pants. He lifted one hand until it rested upon her shoulder and the other caressed her cheek.

“Mmmm …” she moaned, pressing her fingertips harder against him.

He slid his right arm around her waist and placed his left hand gently upon the front of her throat. The feeling of her touch was beginning to drive him made, the tightness of his pants growing with every moment. God, he thought, she really knows how to do this.

He couldn’t help himself any longer. He pulled her roughly against him, pressing her ass against his pelvis and her back against his chest. The hand upon her throat slid into the collar of her sweater, finding its way beneath the blouse as well. His fingers ran the length of her collarbone as he growled into her ear.

Quickly she spun around, her eyes meeting his own gaze. “Hello, my love.”

His lips parted as if to say something but the pressure of her hand upon his groin made it almost impossible to speak. She rested her free hand upon his chest, still looking up at him with a half grin on her lips. “Nothing to say, hun?” She giggled, tracing the hand upon his chest down across each individual button of his shirt.

All he could do was grin down at her, a rose hue filling his cheeks. Before he had time to attempt to speak, she pressed her lips hungrily against his. Within moments, her tongue had forced its way into the warm of his mouth. She ran the tip along the roof of his mouth, mapping the location of every ridge. Satisfied she took his bottom lip in her teeth and pulled away slowly, letting it roll from her grasp. Once he was free again, she ran the tip of her tongue over his lips and was rewarded by a shuddering gasp from him.

She stepped back and he allowed his hands to slide down her body until they were resting upon the curve of her hips. She grinned and reached for the knife on the counter. Lifting it to her lips, she gently ran her tongue of its edge until she came to the tip. A small droplet of blood formed upon her tongue and she closed her eyes, offering her tongue to him.

Slowly he leaned forward, taking her tongue within his mouth and sucking it gently. She moaned, grabbing the back of his head and pressing his lips firmly against hers once more. This woman is amazing, he thought to himself as she pulled away again. This time she moved away from his grasp and towards the bedroom, motioning for him to follow with the curling of one finger.

He obeyed, following her closely until she was standing at the edge of his bed. She kneeled on the bed and motioned with the knife this time. “Stand before me.” Her voice was soft, yet commanding in every respect. It made him almost melt and he knew right then that she would have complete power over him.

Setting the knife on the bed beside her, she placed her hands gently upon his waist. Nimble fingers soon loosed his shirt from its place, her eyes never leaving his own. With her left hand, she grabbed the bottom of the shirt and pulled it taunt in the front. Grinning, she picked up the knife in her right hand. Slipping the tip of the blade under the top most button of his shirt, she cut it clean off.

He stared down at her, a slight panicked look filling his eyes. What the hell is she doing, he thought. However, every muscle in his body kept him locked in place. The rest of the buttons on his shirt soon followed the first, dropping to the floor at his feet. Releasing the bottom of the shirt from her left hand, she used both hands now and pushed it open.

Still on her knees, she stretched as far up as she could in this position and pulled the shirt roughly off him. She growled when she threw it against the floor, her eyes lighting with fierce hunger. He almost whimpered as she ran her nails across his now bare chest. She laughed softly and leaned forward, her lips touching his bare flesh.

She stood on the bed now, making herself only slightly taller than him. Placing the knife carefully between her thighs, she removed her sweater and tossed it aside. Taking the knife in her left hand again, she severed the buttons from her own white shirt in one clean sweep. She tossed the knife to the floor beside the bed, making sure it landed a safe distance away from them but well within arms length if she were to lie back on the bed.

It suddenly occurred to him that she must have done this before. Every movement was far too perfect; far too precise and sensual at that. Is she just that comfortable with blades, he thought. It all reminded him of something that he would have planned out. Goosebumps rose over his flesh at the thought of their similarities.

She pulled the tie from his hair now, running her fingers through the thick strands until his eyes closed. She kissed his forehead and down along his nose until she finally reached his lips. The kiss was gentle; her fingers now trailing up his neck until she cradled his face in her palms.

He was lost in the moment. So lost that he had barely noticed her right hand as it grasped a handful of his hair. Now though, she grinned and pulled his head back roughly. Quickly, her lips found the soft flesh of his neck. Firm lips that parted every now and then to allow her teeth to rake across his neck. The fingers of her other hand were working at the belt of his khakis now, slowly but surely loosing their hold on his hips. He moaned, having never been dominated in this fashion. She had given no warning at taken him by such surprise. She had placed him in the submissive role without him even knowing.

Crafty lady, he thought, crafty indeed. He smiled, feeling her lips move down across his shoulder. It would only be a matter of time before he resumed his control over her. She released her grip on his hair, her hands running along his sides and over each rib individually. She’s testing me, he thought. Indeed she was! She wanted to know all the secret spots he had, the pleasure zones.

Her lips never left his body, roaming now over his chest as she slowly dropped back to her knees. Her tongued circled each nipple before she bit them playfully. Again her fingers returned to his pants, freeing him finally from their prison. By then, her lips were looming dangerously close to his waist. She ran a circle around his navel, her hands resting at the small of his back as if to keep him close.

His legs were beginning to weaken and the excitement was obvious. She slowly nibbled her way along the top edge of his boxers, a single finger pulling them away and letting them snap back into place. The unexpected feeling made him yelp but the sound made her laugh. Still, he could not speak a single word. His tongue seemed frozen by the feeling of her touch.

Slowly, she removed her blouse. It had fallen open when she had severed the buttons from the fabric. It had been a tease for him but now, she was exposed. The sight was driving him mad and he reached out for her, strong hands gripping her shoulders and pulling her towards him. She did not resist as their lips met. Instead, she moaned with pleasure and wrapped her arms about his neck.

It seemed like eternity before she finally broke the kiss; her eyes opening to meet his gave. She gave a wicked smirk and quickly pulled him off balance and sent him tumbling onto the bed beside her. He grabbed her writs on the way down though, pulling her roughly atop him. It was his turn to dominate her now.

He grinned at her and spoke quietly to her. “You are trying to dominate me in my own room? My own domain?” He laughed and gripped her wrists tighter. “There will be none of that, my dear.”

She seemed to give into him but at the moment he released her wrists, she pinned his arms beneath her legs. “I challenge you then,” she growled. Her whole body was tensed on top of him, her thighs pressed against his chest. She was stronger than he had anticipated and knew this would indeed be a challenge.

With brute strength, he shoved her over onto her back. Quickly he kneeled on either side of her thighs and pinned her wrists to the bed. She looked wild, her hair tangled and half covering her face. She struggled beneath him, grinning seductively. My god, he thought, she is so beautiful.

He leaned down to kiss her but she bit playfully at his lip. Pulling away, he laughed softly. “Feisty are we?”

She nodded and gave him a grin that begged for him to try again. He lifted her wrists and clasped them with one hand. With his free hand, he covered her mouth and pulled her head to the side. Soon, he pressed his lips against her neck. She squirmed and whimpered. Her neck was a weakness of hers and she knew that if she gave into it now, there would no fight left in her later. Suddenly she stopped squirming beneath him and bit the palm of his hand, the one covering her mouth.

He growled and pulled it away quickly. “You naughty girl!”

She grinned and snapped at the air playfully. Managing to free one wrist, she wiggled out from underneath him. Kneeling on the bed beside him, she realized that he still held one of her wrists captive. Grinning, he flung her back down onto the bed. She growled, her teeth soon finding the flesh of his forearm. The bite wasn’t enough to draw blood but he lost his hold on her and she sprang to her feet.

“You are a biter, aren’t you?” He took a deep breath, taking a moment to examine her half naked frame. “Come here you!” He jumped to his feet as well and garbed her round the waist.

Lifting her from the floor, her flung her back on the bed and pinned her once more. He leaned down and bit her shoulder, leaving a small red mark upon it. She giggled with delight and returned the favor, biting him soundly on the neck when he bent in to kiss her.

It struck him that this would be a very long and tiring night. Grinning though, he lifted her and turned her over. His fingers worked quickly to loosen her bra. To his amazement, she stopped her squirming for a moment and he took the opportunity to lean down and kiss her back. She whimpered beneath him, pressing her face into the silk sheets.

Ah, he thought, I have found a way to tame the beast.

Again, he dipped to kiss her back and she relaxed even more. For several minutes, he littered her back with kisses. Slowly she turned back over with a blissful look upon her face.

“You’ve found the real weakness,” she said and then pulled him towards her until their lips met.

He settled beside her on the bed, cradling her head in the crook of his left arm. With his free hand, he unfastened the button on her jeans and slid the zipped down. To his great satisfaction and surprise, she wasn’t wearing any underwear at all. She wiggled free of her jeans before he could even ask. He removed his last item as well and then hesitated a moment, his eyes transfixed on her naked form.

She took this moment and ran with it. Again she had him shoved over and pinned on his back. This time, she managed to get his arms flat against his side. With her hands completely free, she reached back and slid a single finger over his manhood. It rose to meet her fingertip as if reluctant to let the feeling go. She grinned at that and again brushed her finger along it.

He strained under her only half-heartedly now, his hips rising ever so slightly from the bed. She raised a brow, and slid off of his form. He did not move as she gave him freedom again. Instead he sighed and closed his eyes as her right hand closed around his member. She worked over it slowly at first, testing the perfect pressure. A soft moan escaped his lips and rewarded her attempts. Now, she quickened her pace. When she felt his body tighten, she knew that she had found the right speed.

Resting on her elbow, she lifted his closest hand to her lips. Still stroking him, she placed his index finger in her mouth and began to suck on it with the same rhythm. Again, she was delighted with his moaning. She worked him until the brink of orgasm and then slowed her pace until finally stopping. His eyes opened and he stared at her with pleading need.

She grinned and slid down his body, finally positioning herself between his thighs. First, she let her fingers trail along the “v” in his hips. It was her favorite spot on the male form. Then, she kissed along the same trail her fingers had just visited. He was shaking beneath her now, the pleasure causing his cheeks to fill with red hues.

Grinning, she flicked her tongue over the head of his excitement and gripped his thighs. She ran her tongue along the entire length several times before she lifted it and took him into her mouth. Her movements were painfully slow, causing him to shudder uncontrollably beneath her. She ran circles over the tip with her tongue, paying close attention to the ridge just below the head.

She loved this act almost as much as she loved sex and it showed. She chose a slow rhythm, working over his entire length loosely at first. When she felt his hips rise and beg for more, she began to suck deeply and move a little faster. Caught in her own pleasure, she moaned and created soft vibrations to run his entire length. His lips parted, his breathing heavy and quick.

She could feel his pulse on her lips and used that to guide her speed. As his heartbeat continued to quicken, so did she. Within moments she was thrusting him furiously into her mouth, her cheeks pressed against his sides and her tongue holding him firmly against the room of her mouth.

Finally she felt him stiffen beneath her, a sure sign that he was dangerously close. She continued though, moaning and digging her nails into his hips. As he climaxed, his back arched from the bed and he reached down to grab handfuls of her hair. She smiled to herself as she felt him release and then slowly she pulled away, her tongue lingering to catch every drop of his seed.

Slowly he found his voice, “Oh my god, sweety.”

She smiled and kneeled over him again, her hair creating a curtain framing their faces. “That’s just the beginning, love.”

Why?

2007-11-05T13:39:00.000-08:00

I was recently asked by a prospective slave what it is about this lifestyle that draws me in, what is it that makes things tick. My answer was simple, or so I thought...

"This is more a lifestyle for me. If it was publicly acceptable, I would wear just corsets, thigh high stockings, garters, and heels (or some other fetish type clothing) every day. However, due to the fact that there is a level of formality to society, we can't very well do that. So, we are limited to the home. That means I appear as your typical conservative and fairly normal woman in the public eye. Within the comforts of my home, it's normal to find me walking around in corset and heels.

Most of the people that I have come across have limitations that don't work for me. Males never last as long as females because of this, but I'm always willing to try. Many times, people can't handle me. I am not trying to be egotistical or pig-headed here. I am just trying to explain how serious I take this lifestyle. It's not for the shy or timid.

I have been a Domme, or Mistress, for almost 10 years. My first complete slave did not come into my life until this year. Yes, I have been the submissive, or slave, on many occasions. It is much more difficult to don the title of Mistress or Master than one would think. However, it is something that cannot be learned. You are either born dominant, or you aren't. Lead or be led. The interesting thing is that any dominant person can slip into the submissive role, which I can do with the right amount of force.

What is the draw for me? I suppose it is the same thing that draws men to fast, muscle cars or women to the mall. People that make Fetishism a lifestyle are those who are, quite simply, addicted to it. It's no different than any other addicting aspect in life (barring things like alcohol, drugs, etc.). It can be as safe or as dangerous as you choose it to be. It's a primal part of the human psyche and something that I openly embrace. As my time as a Domme lengthens, I find it increasingly difficult to keep the boundaries between public and private intact. A professional Domme/Mistress, is a woman who can turn heads in a room full of strangers even without wearing revealing clothing or fetish pieces. You'll know her when you see her. She rules the roost. Her friends follow her footsteps and every guy around her wishes they could, for that one moment, experience her on a level more than casual friendship. I am that sort of person."

A Little Introduction

2007-10-12T10:45:00.001-07:00

There are many words to describe me, and most tend to fall short of encompassing the whole. Women, unlike most men, have a tendency to create an alternate persona behind closed doors. We have perfected the multi-universe of the human being. We can be both your worst nightmare and your greatest desire in the very same moment.

We are the key to sensuality.

Let's face it men, women are the fairer sex.

Beauty is our game; our life.

Where does that place me, your Mistress for the duration you chose to stay within the confines of this blog?

In control.

It's something about the simplicity with which I speak, the openness with which I approach the topic of sex, the mystery...you pick your poison. However, there is no denying that there is something that is keeping you here.

And it will continue to do so.

With all of that said, I will remind you that all things written in this blog will be of the sexual nature. Some of it may be nothing above the normal. Other things may make you wish you hadn't read them. Either way, I expect most will enjoy this in its entirety.

And to answer a question that will, no doubt, be on everyone's mind: Anything you read here will not be claimed as fact. If something seems to reflect a moment you are familiar with, do not ask me if it was based on you. My answer is always going to be no. Draw your own conclusions as to what situations are fact and which are fiction. I will neither confirm nor reject those thoughts. I stand on neutral ground for my own sake and for the sake of those whom I love.

Now, enjoy.