Thursday, April 13, 2006

More Poetry

"my submersion"

Going under
In the sea of Your Will
Controlled currents
Wash me to and fro
And each surfacing
Only makes me more
Eager
To drown more completely
For You

Friday, January 20, 2006

Nyghtmare, Nyghtmare

Sorry about this, but I'm going to go all literary on you. The following is a poem based on the genius "Tyger, Tyger" by William Blake. It matches the original's syntax, rhyme sceme, punctuation and to a small extent theme. Hope you like it.

The Nyghtmare

(based on “The Tyger” by William Blake)

Nyghtmare, Nyghtmare, shunning light
The darkest shadow of the night:
With a mortal’s mind gone numb,
What bone-chilled soul could hold her sum?


A step into infinity,
A moment made eternity!
Do you in your piety sleep?
Doesn’t she into your mind creep?


To distant land of lightless cold
Does she steal you to her hold?
Strangled by her black haired mane
Are you praying? Are you sane?


Who’s the Maker? What horrid deed?
Who planted this fetid seed?
Whence the terror? Whence the pain?
When did she begin her reign?


The evening of Satan’s fall
He sent to God a dream-time pall:
Did our Lord shed a bitter tear?
And so Satan form the Steed of Fear?


Nyghtmare, Nyghtmare, shunning light
The darkest shadow of the night:
With a mortal’s mind gone numb,
What bone-chilled soul could hold her sum?

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Initial Bondage Sketch

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

The Dog (Fiction, Graphic)

He lay next to Her, listening to Her soft, even breath of sleep. He had been listening to Her for an hour now, by the digital clock, and still He couldn’t fall asleep. With balls aching and images from earlier in the night running in loop through his brain, he didn’t expect to sleep any time soon.

For hours he had worshipped Her body, bringing Her to her first orgasm with his fingers from behind. Then finally She gave him something he had been begging for for days; She had queened him, smothering him, drowning him in Her sweet beautiful pussy, sitting on his face, writhing through an intense orgasm achieved with his tongue deep inside Her. She had tormented him mercilessly throughout, bringing him over and over again to the brink of orgasm and denying him each time, usually with Her hand but a few times with her amazingly skilled mouth. So pleased She had seemed with him, that he was almost certain She would let him cum, but claiming exhaustion from two such intense orgasms, she merely locked him up with a kiss on his forehead and fell into quick sleep.

As She found the male chastity device he wore during the day uncomfortable to sleep against, She had come up with an alternative. His hands were loosely cuffed, locked with small padlocks to a chain between running up to the headboard. Around his right ankle was another cuff chained to the footboard of their large wrought iron bed. The system allowed him relatively free movement and comfort but he could not lower his hands past rib level or pull his body very far up in the bed. This set up extremely effectively prevented him from touching his genitals in any way. In some ways this was worse than his Curve. Because She milked him at least once a day, he had yet to have any nocturnal orgasm and he was tortured every night by the feel of her soft skin against his body.

Unable to help himself, he nuzzled Her neck gently, breathing softly into her ear, and savored her sleepy murmurs as She cuddled her body back into his. Eventually, he fell into a light sleep with the warm sleeping smell of Her in his nose.

* * *

“Stop that! Stop that now!”

The sharp voice jarred him out of his sleep, bringing him into confused wakefulness. He lay on his side, curled somewhat and She was sitting up next to him. In the dim light filtering in from the street, he could see the angry look on Her face and cringed inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

At her words he became aware of his body and in horror realized he had his knees wrapped around her thigh, his cock, hard and throbbing, tight to the smooth flesh of Her leg. Even now, his hips were twitching and by the wetness he felt, he knew that in his sleep he must have being rubbing himself on Her for some time. In fact, he was only a few moments from orgasm, and only with an effort of will did he unwrap his legs from hers and pull away.

“Mistress, I… I’m sorry… sleeping… I…”

“Shut up. You are disgusting. No control at all. Humping me in my sleep.”

“Mistress, I apologize; I’m so sorry. I was asleep. I didn’t know…”

She pulled away from him, kneeling up on the bed, towering over him like a vengeful Goddess, and he didn’t think he had ever felt such shame before. She was right, he had no control, and he had no idea how to make this horrible indiscretion up to Her.

“I thought we had been doing so well pet,” She told him in a softer voice. The anger faded from Her face, replaced by pity and disappointment. “I really thought I had been getting somewhere with you, helping you learn to control your animal urges, and now this. Humping me in the night like an animal. Just like an animal.”

Her face became thoughtful for a moment, brows furrowing slightly between her green eyes that ran over his naked body. Then her face lit up, eyes sparkling and a small smile pulled at her rosy lips. The expression was so sweet, angelic, innocent looking even, and he shuddered in terror and deeper inside, excitement. He knew this expression well. It meant that She had thought of something that pleased Her and boded very badly for him. Although inexperienced as a Domme, She more than made up for lack of worldly knowledge with a devious creativity and imagination that had brought him sobbing to Her amazing feet more than once. His desperate need to please Her was matched only by Her ability to torment and frustrate him.

“Yes, like an animal. Like a dog I think. Exactly like a dog.”

“Mistress, please-“

“Shhhh,” She whispered, laying a small finger across his lips. “No more talking now.”

She jumped from the bed and he couldn’t help but admire her body. Silky white soft skin, full breasts tapering from her ribs to her waist under a black cami then swelling again to her rounded hips. The lace panties She wore covered and tantalized at the same time, beautifully highlighting Her gorgeously long, graceful legs. Firmly muscled thighs flowed into slim, shapely calves into incredibly delicate ankles. And her feet… How to describe her feet? Pure alabaster beauty. He had never seen their like, not even on sites dedicated to feet. And if anyone would know, it would be him. The uncountable hours he had spent online, masturbating uncontrollably to unending images of feet. In exchange for helping him in controlling his shameful addiction, She had allowed him access to the most spectacular feet he had ever dreamed of touching. Not once had he regretted begging to be Her slave.

During his silent admiration, She quickly unchained him from the bed, leaving the cuffs with their chains on him. Then Her hand was in his hair, grasping hard and bodily She dragged him out of the bed while he scrambled to keep up with Her.

In the corner of the bedroom, embedded in the bare wood floor was a sturdy eyebolt. For him it was a place of humiliation and torment, where he spent his punishment time. Leaving less than three feet of slack, She attached a chain first between the bolt and his permanently welded collar, then the cuffs on his wrist and finally the cuff on his ankle. He was immediately impressed by how very uncomfortable this bondage would be for him. Though the chain ran freely through the bolt, with so little length between collar, cuffs and ankle, he was forced to curl himself tightly around the center point. Already he could feel strain in his shoulders, hip digging into the hard floorboards, tension that would lead to cramps in his thighs. Pulling a spare blanket from the bed, tucking it around his shivering form, She crouched next to him, stroking his hair and neck.

“Don’t cry sweet, you know I’m doing this for you, for your own good. I want you to be the best slave in the world and this is how to do it. You want to please me don’t you, make me proud?”

He fought back tears of shame and fear of pain, not wanting to begin sniveling so soon. “Yes Mistress, I want to please You more than anything. I’m so ashamed that I’ve failed You.”

“We will make it right. You sleep now and in the morning I will show you how to please me.”

“Yes Mistress, thank You for all Your thoughtfulness. I love You so much.”

“I know darling, now sleep.”

Washed in the warmth of her care and the intensity of his love for her, he fell into a drained sleep far more quickly than he would have guessed possible in such a position, and dreamt of Her through the darkest hours of the night.

* * *

Warm morning light woke him slowly, and rolling heavily onto his back he groaned as he stretched his legs out. The pain in all the muscles of his body brought the events of the night to his mind and eyes flying open, he saw his beloved Mistress kneeling next to him on the floor. The blanket was gone, and the chain removed from the bolt, but still clasped to the collar around his neck, leaving him loose to move if only his cramped body could take advantage of it’s freedom.

“Mistress,” he gasped as he tried to sit up, pain shooting through his shoulders and down his back. With Her arms wrapped firmly around him, She helped him into a sitting position. He collapsed forward, forehead on his knees, and moaned in relief as She began strongly massaging his neck and shoulders. She explained what would happen that day.

“You were very, very bad last night. No, don’t say anything, I know that you are sorry, but that isn’t enough. You need to learn your lesson and you have a lot to make up to me. I think I have come up with a way to do both those things.”

While She spoke with in a mild, explaining voice, he hung on Her every word. At once he was thrilled to know there was something that he could do that would make it better and at the same time anxious and fearful at how much pain this may cost him. It quickly became evident that just about any physical punishment would have been easier to bear than what She had planned.

“Since you have so little control over your animal urges, in punishment you will spend the day as an animal. A dog. My dog. My faithful, well-behaved, loving animal companion. From the moment I have you prepared you will no longer be a human in my eyes or your own. You are not to speak at all. At most you may bark, whine or yelp as a dog when appropriate. If this is a problem for you, I have several gags that you are familiar with that will enforce this. I hope you don’t make that necessary.

“You can’t stand; dogs don’t stand and neither will you. Rather than allow temptation to torment you for the day, I will, very kindly I believe, make this impossible for you”

In a shaking little boy voice he thanked Her.

“You’re welcome. No use of your hands today. Again, I will help you with this by making them as useful to you as paws, which is appropriate. Lastly you will be outfitted in a way that will constantly remind you of your position so that by complacency you aren’t tempted to forget you place. Now come dog.”

Standing with the chain turned leash in Her hand, She walked from the bedroom towards the living room with him crawling somewhat stiffly behind. His position allowed him a wonderful view up the short black skirt She had donned. He could even see the tops of the thigh high sheer black hose She wore, and her silky black panties. That sight and her shapely hosed feet padding before him brought him instantly to high arousal. By the time they reached the coffee table with it’s variety of carefully chosen objects on display he was virtually panting in his lust.

Ordering him up on his knees, She asked for his hands. Taking some white fabric medical tape, She began enclosing his hands. From his wrists She worked down, binding his thumb to his palm and his finger together. When finished he couldn’t even curl his hands. Effectively, he now possessed paws and with trepidation he suspected that he would not have been able to bring himself to orgasm manually even if he dared attempt such a thing.

Next, on his hands and knees, legs spread widely, Her actions explained the use of two rather incomprehensible items on the table. The sturdy white twine She wound several times around the base of his balls. Although She delighted in causing him pain in this area, today’s treatment was not truly uncomfortable, at most it sensitized, until She attached the dowel that is. Pulling his sack back between his legs as far as She could, She attached the 24” length of wood just below his balls, but behind his thighs. The weight of the dowel pulled at him, slightly painfully, but he was confused as to its purpose until She ordered him to stand.

He quickly tried to scramble to his feet and was at a half crouch when pain ripped through his testicles, deep into his belly, bringing sudden nausea. Knees folding beneath him, he fell forwards with his useless paws clutched over himself, face pressed to the floor groaning. Over him, he could hear Her clapping Her hands, and in his mind’s eye could see Her happy smile with excitement lighting it.

“Oh it works! This is great, just wonderful. I wasn’t totally certain if it would work or not, but this is so great!”

His Mistress knelt down next to him, and taking his chin in the palm of her hand, pulled him up on his hands and kneels, forcing him to release his aching balls to support himself. Intently She peered into his eyes, her smile widening at the tears still welling.

“That hurt a lot didn’t it? See, now you won’t be tempted to try to stand. Aren’t you glad you won’t have to fight that? But it does seem to need some adjusting.”

He nodded vigorously, afraid that speaking even now might anger Her, making her change Her mind about loosening it. Feeling Her hands between his legs, releasing the twine where it was tied to the dowel, he moaned at the relief to his painful testicles. The ending of pain more enjoyable than just about any pleasure he had felt. The relief lasted only seconds.

* To be Continued *

Sunday, April 24, 2005


My hand in a cuff. Posted by Hello

My dusty dirty doc. Posted by Hello

Monday, February 07, 2005

Untitled (Very graphic, disturbing, death)

“So, you’re depressed.”

“No, no. You have it all wrong.”

The two had only met that evening, but had quickly found the eerie closeness that only develops between two strangers when large amounts of alcohol or drugs are involved. Now the party was winding down, and aside from the half-naked couple in the far corner, the dim living room was theirs alone. He lit a John Players Special, then continued.

“I’m not depressed at all. Indeed, I’m completely satisfied with my life. And that’s just it. I’ve done everything I’ve wanted to, everything I’ve dreamed of. I’m ready now.”

“But why not just wait,” she protested. “It will come eventually in its own time. That’s the way it works.”

“Yeah, and I’ll be hit by a semi and not even notice. There’s no fun or satisfaction in that. No, I’ll go my way, at my chosen time. I’m looking forward to it. Death is about the only thing I find exciting these days.”

“I guess I’m like that myself.”

He leaned towards her in his seat, startled and intense. “Oh, you want to off yourself too?”

“No. Not myself. Other people. I’m fascinated by death in other people. I would never kill in anger or for revenge. I’d kill so that I could see the look in their eyes, the expression on their face, so that I could understand it.”

She glanced away, was silent a few moments, then turned back.

“I guess I’m more than a bit fucked up,” she admitted, embarrassed.

He chuckled softly, and with a contemplative look at her, replied, “Well, I guess that makes two of us.”

* * *

“Are you sure,” he asked.

She glanced into his eyes. “Of course I am.”

Leaning away from his chest, she laid the point of the kitchen paring knife against the soft, white skin of his ribs, two inches right of the nipple. Firmly, she drew the blade in a gentle arc down his ribs and across the top of his stomach. He didn’t flinch. In all, it was 14 or 15 inches long, and quite deep. She could see the edges of skin as they gaped away from each other, and blood was welling up quickly.

He released a sigh. “Okay.”

Feeling his eyes on her, she caught a thick drop of blood that had begun to roll down his side on the tip of her middle finger, and put it to her mouth. Salty copper. When she looked up, he was smiling at her tenderly, and with his left hand behind her neck, pulled her in for a kiss as she pressed the knife to his thigh.

* * *

“Well, everything seems to be ready.”

“Yep,” she agreed. “I can’t think of anything left to do.”

The sat side by side on the couch, the note they had composed together of the coffee table before them. It was the third and final draft; the two previous had been burned and flushed down the toilet. The contents of the letter were pretty basic, it was the look of it that was important. The handwriting, his of course, had to be shaky yet determined, desperation mixed with resolve. The first or second version probably would have been adequate, but both were perfectionists and wanted everything to be just right.

“Are you sure you don’t want these,” she asked. “They might make it easier.”

“No.” He took the bottle of Tylenol 3’s from her surgically gloved hand and placed them next to the note. “It has to be clear. I can’t be numbed in body or mind. I want to experience all of it to infinity.”

She stood, turned to face him with her legs on either side of his, and bent at the waist to peer closely at his face.

“I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

He laid a gentle palm against her cheek and kissed her once softly on the mouth. He nodded his head and smiled. At that she pressed the hunting knife they had bought and prepared together into his throat as hard as she could, and slashed to her left at the same time. Once he jerked, and she saw his breathless gasp, then he faded quickly. In moments he was gone.

She stood before him a few minutes, breathing deeply, just looking at him. There was virtually no expression on his pale face. No pain, no alarm, maybe a touch of contentment or relief. But that could have been her imagination.

Carefully, she picked up his right hand and wrapped it, still warm, around the black molded plastic handle of the knife. As carefully, she placed the two at his side, in what should appear to be a natural position.

She peeled off the surgical gloves and brushed her naked hand through his hair.

“Goodbye.”

As quiet as her lover, she left.

Finished October 1997

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

A Present (fiction, graphic)

panthers_little_lynx_wols (1:37:19 AM): Finding Him still out, she creeps into His bedroom. Slowly she undresses, enjoying the feeling of getting naked, touching herself as each piece of clothing comes off. Finger tips down her neck and shoulders, dragging her fingernails down the sides and under her breasts, watching her nipples get hard, skimming her hips and rubbing down her legs. She sits on His bed, massaging her feet. Imagining His cock instead of her hands, she strokes her soles, heels and toes with the edge of her palm the way she thinks He would do it. With one hand she cups her sex, feeling how hot it is, but not doing anything more, wanting to wait for Him. She stands, looking around and finds His toy bag. Dropping to her knees she opens it, pausing to enjoy the smell of leather.
Items that she wants are placed on the bed. When she has found everything, she begins working. First she binds each ankle, the way He has told her He would, not tightly but with many turns. Then centering herself on the bed, she uses the remainder of rope that she has left to bind her ankles to her thighs, leaving just enough play so that the soles of her feet can touch. Next are the cuffs around her wrists. These she can tighten more. The soft lining keeps the leather from digging in and cutting off the circulation. And it feels to good; she can imagine that it is His hands holding her.
Taking one silk scarf in her hands, she pulls it between her fingers, loving the cold, ultra soft texture. She begins dragging it over her body, mostly her breasts, but also her legs and calves, shivering at the feeling. Before she gets so turned on that she can't stop, she ties it halter style around her neck and under her breats, lifting and pushing them together slightly. She wonders if He will use her that way when He sees it. Taking the second scarf, she ties it around her head several times, making sure that it covers her ears as well as her eyes. It muffles the sound, like being under water and she can hear her own breath and heartbeat amplified, but all other sounds become distant.
The last part is the most difficult. Stretching full length, barely reaching, she grasps the chain so thoughfully placed by Him, with the caribeaners and clasps, and fumbling slightly, sightless, she clasps the cuffs tightly. She imagines that she might not be able to free herself if she wanted and that makes her happy. Without sight or clear sound she feels like the world has become smaller, just her, the bed and her bindings. It's almost relaxing, waiting for Him, but unable to do anything other than lie there, very slightly chilled, feeling goosebumps of cold and excitment break out on her body, tightening her nipples even more.
She imagines in her mind what she will look like to Him. Will He be surprised? Will He look at her for long? What will He do with her first? Eventually these images slip from her and she becomes very still, her head turned on the pillow, breathing the smell of Him and slowly drifting into a dream filled light sleep.
Finished 1/31/2005