My "Images" (a term I stole from Suki) are short ideas, images, and sketches written for the amusement of and offered as tribute to my Liege and Lady. They were always longer and never so well crafted as Suki's short masterpieces, and over time, my Images files began to include various email excerpts and other works in progress or ideas for works and became more journal than art, so some juxtapositions may seem odd. Some of my Images follow. They are generally cruel and nonconsensual and of interest only to sickphuxs, so please read no further if such doesn't appeal to you. The Images are impurely the products of a warped imagination, and should not be seen as a reflection of the scene, nor should they be imitated by anyone not interested in a protracted term as the ward of the state. Steven S. Davis --------------------------------------------- Improv and ramble Some of what follows is a sort of exercise in finding how well one can make BDSM out of anything that happens.... sort of BDSM improv. [comment about a bathroom situation] Well, the toilet issue kept me at the house for a bit longer than I'd expected, fortunately it wasn't an issue for me once I got to work. I'm not sure how much a "well, so you are the piggy one" scene would appeal to you, where you perhaps bind a man and feed him, or perhaps you offer your feet - or whatever you'd rather have kissed - to him for as many kisses as he likes, but he has to take two bites of something for each kiss. This would seem like absolute bliss to me. But perhaps you might be able to make it amusing, since while my appetite for kissing you might be unlimited, not even my appetite for food is. But in order to kiss you again I have to take two more forkfulls of food from you. And when I start getting really full and not wanting any more, you pout at me and say "Don't you want to kiss me anymore ?". Which leaves me in a very awkward position (even if I do see what you are doing). How could I possibly say that I don't want to kiss you ? So I'd have to keep eating more and more long past when I don't want another bite, until you decide that "you piggy slut, I think you've had quite enough" and won't let me kiss you anymore. And if after a little while you decide that it's time to take me someplace, someplace where you can keep me gagged and leashed, and keep a close hold on my leash when you can tell that I really need badly to use the bathroom till I'm dancing around amusingly for you. I don't know how many women are into making men shit in public (it seems a humiliation more often inflicted on women by male masters, perhaps because it's a bigger shame for most women), but perhaps if the owner of the place you took me to was into such, you might instruct me that I had first to get her permission (or his, if you took me to visit a male dom friend of yours, perhaps because it would please you more making me beg a man to be allowed to relieve myself than seeing me forced to beg a woman); perhaps it would amuse you if he said that he need some relief also and I could relieve myself after I finished sucking his cock ? And then when the relief offered me was not use of his bathroom, but being allowed to squat over a pot in view of whichever of his guests cared to watch, perhaps that would amuse you, even if you opted not to watch, but merely to enjoy how deep a shade of red I still was when next you saw me ? [Well, not a usual fantasy for me, and maybe not one of your favorites, but a change of pace, perhaps, and using what comes up (improvisational perversion ?)] A bit different than some of what I've been thinking of lately, though it shares one feature that's been in a lot of my femdom thoughts: my domme making me extend myself rather than pushing me.. That is, things like tying my balls to a cord tied to a rubber band and fastening that to a spot and having me crawl towards or after her to try to kiss her feet or lick her pussy or kiss her hair. Or telling me that I can stay with her only for so long as I allow her to put clamps on me; when I say "no more, please", she's going to leave. Or beating me to my limits and then telling me that she would really like to hit me again, may she ?, and seeing how many times I can say yes (the heavy praise for taking more beating or more clamps helps prolong matters). FWIW, before this, there was one in which she held out some chains and told me that she really wanted to hurt me more than I could handle, would I agree to this, and lock myself into these chains, knowing that once in them (BYW, they sometimes involved handcuffs locked around my balls and then secured to my ankles or neck to make me stay in uncomfortable positions (did I ever mention a femsub friend being forced to stand with her heels through rings, then squat and have her hands cuffed behind her and the chins to the rings her high heels were through brought tight against her wrists, so she couldn't step out of them and couldn't stand up, and had to squat in high heels until her master decided otherwise?)) that I had no way out and she was going to put a serious hurt on me - when she got around to it, which would be in her own time, and after she'd had other fun with me (I don't think she was really all that interested in the big hurt, though she felt she needed to do it and so would enjoy it, it was making me wait for it, and, most of all, seeing me put the chains on myself that excited her). ** Damn, I forgot the key line in one of those fantasies. It's when she'd put those chains in front of me and told me that if I put them on she going to hurt me way more than I can bear (and love doing it). And then she tells me that I don't have to do this, that she'll love me if I don't do it. But then she smiles wickedly and says "But I'll love you more if you do". ** [regarding my imagination as a cruel Mistress] Possibly. Perhaps my dominant might find my terrorizing myself amusing ;-> Or perhaps she might enjoy asking me to come up with ideas for her, and they had to be ideas she'd consider (the "break glass, glue it to inside of saran wrap, wrap cock, and heat saran wrap with hair dryer" sort of stuff would be fun for her imagination, but I'd have to give her things she might do and that I wouldn't want her to do (that last part having been much of the weekend's thoughts, about how would she enjoy, and exploit, a submissive who didn't like any - well, many - of the games she devised to play with him, but would do what he had to for her praise and affection) ? [regarding the "but I'll love you more if you do" scenario being Nasty ] But clever. What choice would I have except to put the chains on ? Speaking of nasty, how about the domme who, cuddling me sweetly after a cruel scene (one of those ideas of mine that was just what she wanted - or thought she wanted - the things that would take her right to her limits of cruelty (maybe even beyond; sometimes she finds herself at times like this feeling very guilty and badly needing my approval)) and, feeling a bit nasty herself, she tells me as she cuddles me "I'm going to have to stop seeing you, the urge to hurt you really bad is gettng so strong and if we keep seeing each other you are going to get harmed, sooner or latter I just won't be able to resist anymore." Putting me in a quite desperate strait - "mistress is going to leave me" - and needing to tell her whatever I need to tell her to get her to stay, including giving permission to harm me. Not that she would, of course. But it's fun being given permission to do so, and fun knowing that later she can hold this over me to terrorize me more. And fun knowing that she has me where what terrifies me the most is that she might abandon me. Puts some ethical dilemma into her life, since the loving thing to do is to do whatever she can to assure me that she'll never abandon me. But the cunning thing to do is to use this. She's got my greatest fear to threaten me with, and it will always be legal; a gun to my head would be coercion, but she could never be prosecuted for saying she'd leave me if I didn't obey her every command - even if that was the more coercive threat. An ethical and an aesthetic dilemma. Because she knows that from now on, nothing between us is consensual, everything I do is done because I have no choice but to do what she wants me to do, which part of her is incredibly thrilled by, and part of her finds appalling. An aesthetic dilemma too, because one part of her really enjoyed my voluntary submission, and she's going to miss that now, knowing that nothing I do for her from now on is voluntary. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Connections Odd coincidence this morning. I was leaving a little late and since I was going to be late I turned on the morning news programs for awhile. I am, FWIW, rather pleased that boots seem to be in fashion now. And it was interesting to see Katie Couric and Ann Curry dressed in very similar outfits this morning. What was more interesting is that they were in slave uniforms. Well, no, not everyone's idea of slave uniforms. But they were both in the outfits - snug pullover tops, above the knee narrow skirts, and high heels (in this case, high heeled boots) - that I might make a uniform for a female slave. Strictly speaking more a strict dress code than a uniform (Katie was sticking quite well to it, since she had the "boots match the top and are a different color than the skirt" part down (I probably wouldn't require that with boots, but with high heeled shoes, the shoes and hose - stockings and ear rings are also required parts of the uniform - must match the top). I wouldn't require that the uniform be worn every day. I would require that it be worn (in the absence of other directions, the most common one being "strip") whenever she has not requested a waiver to wear something else (said waiver would generally be granted, but would be turned down often enough to remind her that it is a waiver *request*; and anyway, women in the fifties did did housework in jewelry and high heels, didn't they, so why can't she do yardwork in uniform ?. FWIW, these thoughts had been a spin-off from the idea of granting amnesty (same idea, it would *not* be automatic so she'd learn not to count on it being granted). The amnesty idea had come out of thoughts about the "one rail" scenario, which had gone in this direction: Standing over the rail on tip toes is a basic part of her discipline. It's not punishment, she just know that a certain number of minutes a day she will spend way up on tip toes (I seemed to come to the idea of 10 minutes a day; where I was uncertain was in whether that should follow 30 minutes standing in 6 inch heels, or precede it (which would have the interesting prospect of making her regard wearing 6 inch heels as a relief)). The punishment comes when her feet are raised making her ride the rail. The duration of the ride would depend on how many demerits she was assigned that day. It's 15 seconds on the rail for each five demerits, and there's a minimum requirement of 50 to have to bear punishment; if she stays under 50 demerits in a day, punishment will be waived (this means that if she is punished it will involve at least 150 seconds on the rail, and from the way the woman in the video clip cried when she rode it, the minimum seems pretty bad). She'd want to avoid this, so she'd try not to earn any demerits. Which could be tough given how easy - and arbitrary (but complaining earns an automatic 50 demerits) - the assigment of demerits can be (especially when the slave is told she's in "model mode", when her every move is expected to be perfect and sensual and a foot turned the wrong way or a hair out of place or a less than graceful movement will earn demerits). Even on ordinary days 50 demerits are easy to earn, and since the one given for any mumber of reasons could be the one that causes her to cross the threshold, she's got an incentive to earn as few as possible and keep off that rail. Now, some days she would be given amnesty and her demerits forgiven (this is especially the case when she's been sufficiently sexy that taking her directly to bed and skipping the rail happens (which may also mean avoiding the 10 minutes on tiptoes)), which gives her further incentive to be not only perfect but perfectly sexy. Anyway, it was the thought of the amnesty which led to thoughts of waivers from wearing the uniform, and seeing Katie and Ann in uniform today brought this to mind again. ---------------------------------------------- The Sled A man lies naked, tied spreadeagled on a sort of sled, bouncing more than a bit as she drags the sled around behind her van. She hops out and rather happily says "it moves easily enough over this surface", as she unties the rope from the ring placed in the sled, and then, taking his cock and balls and squeezing them together, takes the rope and ties it tightly around his cock and balls, bending his cock a bit so the head sticks up just above the encircling rope, then she gives the rope a couple tugs, getting a couple grunts from him through his mouth full of panties, and playfully kisses the head of his cock. "I wanted to be sure the sled would move with you on it. I don't expect it to go very far, of course, but it will still be more fun if it's dragged a little distance before your balls come off". She then busies herself with setting up the video camera so she'll be able to record/observe both the trailing rope as it uncoils and his face as the truck pulls away dragging the rope behind it until the rope uncoils and pulls taut and then begins to pull on him. He watchs her without any protest or struggle. Neither would do him any good, and besides, he knows that she isn't going to pull his balls off or drag him by the balls behind her van. Still, as she starts to pull away, that small discrepancy between what his mind knows and what his body believes begins to eat at him, as he watches the high coil of rope, to which she attached the rope tied around his cock and balls, getting lower and lower as she slowly drives away, and his heart starts pounding and the fear rises and though he *knows* she won't do it, he starts to squirm and to tug at his bounds, his body reacting with a survival instinct that tells it that this is *not* something it wants to be here for, but it doesn't really have any choice, he's tied too well, so he won't have to deal with the humiliation of trying to free himself. He can't see his face, of course, but the tape is recording the things he's unaware of, like the way his brow is furrowing and how big his eyes are getting and the way he's biting so hard on that gag, and the microphone will pick up his whimpers, (the truck now being so far away) as his eyes focus on the nearly gone mound of rope and then the mound is gone and as the rope pulls taut he shrieks and feels that hard pull on his balls and his heart nearly bursts as the careful splice in the rope splits after one good hard yank on his balls and he lays there trembling and bathed in sweat and his chest pounding and trying desperately to breathe as much as he needs to through his nose. By the time the van come back, and she stands over him smugly smirking at him, he has some of his composure back, though signs of his panic remain. And he'll have to endure her teasing as they watch the tape - repeatedly - with his hands tied and her hands stroking his cock as she giggles at his fear and kisses him and reminds him how much she likes to keep this favorite toy of hers where it can do the most good, before she mounts and rides him till she comes then lays atop him hugging him. "Would you be disappointed, ma'am, if my body's fear didn't get the better of me ?", he asks, and she raises her head to look at him and kiss him and says "It will be less fun when I can't scare you this way anymore, but I'll be almost as proud of myself then as I am of you now". "And I'll find some other way to scare you to death", she says, laughing and sinking her teeth into his neck. ------------------------------------------------------------- "Dancing Mistress" "Come in, boy" she ordered. It was pleasantly spoken, but it was unmistakably an order. He'd become very good at recognizing immediately when she was in command mode, however pleasant she might be - and however invisible it might be to others; he'd seen her in command mode often in public in thoroughly vanilla settings, and knew he had to immediately and completely comply with all her directions, especially the subtle ones, how he did it without shaming himself in such public places was his problem (and if it couldn't be done without humiliation, that was his problem also), but whatever the circumstances he had to obey - and also very good at both being human when she wasn't in command mode and quickly becoming her submale, a being with no human rights, freedom, or dignity, when she changed her tone. He'd not guessed that this ability would be what made him most valuable to her (fortunate for him that it did, as his physical attributes wouldn't have brought much on the trading block, but on the trading block who would be looking for the ability to be morph from friend and lover to object and back ?). "Strip", she said, cheerily, and he quickly obeyed, somewhat wary at how happy she seemed. "Get against the cross", she said, and as he did she strapped him against it. "Now, boy, I wouldn't want you to get bored, so I have some tapes for you to watch", she said as she put a video in the machine, and sat down at her desk to work. Which she actually did, but not without watching him carefully as the video clips played before him. Nothing particularly hardcore, mostly some kinky fashion advertising, with bits of video she'd shot around town between the kinky fashions. Some other time she'd have him make up stories on the spot to entertain her friends - at least the femsubs and the lesbian and bi femdoms - as her camera caught various pretty women on the street. Today she just wanted some filler that would keep him a little interested but let him cool down a bit between each bit, so she could better assess just how turned on he'd been by each outfit he'd seen. Something she'd use against him at other times. Today she already had an outfit selected, one which would turn him on while troubling him a bit because while he couldn't help responding to her in slave outfits this always made him uneasy. Seeing his Mistress in garter belt and hose and stilettos and wearing a body harness caused some dissonance for him, he couldn't not think how sexy a prisoner she'd be in that outfit, the many ways she could be restrained and suspended, some very painful and some very sustainable while all were quite secure, nor could he fail to see all the ways she could be kept both helpless and available. He was too much of a sadist and too much of a het not to see this, but he was enough of a submissive to feel bad about seeing it and imagining it; he was *hers* to use, not her his. But since he know she enjoyed creating this dissonance in him, he didn't let in get to him too badly. Besides, he knew he'd pay for it soon enough. The other clips in the tape, mostly bits of music videos, weren't picked to prove much of anything - she hardly needed to know he'd enjoy the sight of pretty young women with fine rhythm and excellent muscle control displaying both, nor that vibrating hips and ass would catch his eye. Nor did she really mind; being all the woman he needed didn't mean she expected him to ignore all the other women. But sometimes she didn't mind tweaking him for looking. "So, slaveboy, brazen enough to stare at a vibrating ass in your Mistress's presence, are you ? How shamefully lacking in self-control you are, boy", she barked, the friendliness gone from her voice, and the bad bitch coming across loud and clear. His look of fear and shame was mingled with confusion, as she didn't generally mind his looking at other women. That was OK, he looked good uncertain. The embarrassment was cute too, but the mixture of abashment with uncertainty about whether he was getting bashed or teased was especially fun. "And after I made such an effort to look good for you, all out of kindness and love. What an ungrateful boy you are. But far be it from me not to give my boy what he wants. You want vibrating hips, well, then you shall have them, just like if a body harness is what turns you on, well then that's what you get. I *do* take good care of my property", she said archly, as he tried to search her eyes to see if the laughter he did perceive in them would be at him or with him. "So this is what you want, huh ?", she asked as she flicked on a music tape and began swaying in front of him, then turning and twisting and shaking as the tempo increased. "Make the bitch dance, that's one of your oldest and hottest fantasies, isn't it. Well, the bitch is dancing, boy, how do you like it ?", she asked. She knew that he'd be dumbfounded at how to answer this question, which amused her. As it amused her that his eyes were big and riveted on her - and that his eyes weren't all that was big - despite the the confusion and shame he felt at watching his Mistress gyrating like a captive in one of his stories (he didn't actually recognize the moves, but he hadn't studied that story as well as his Mistress had). The discomfort at seeing her such was sweet - and the inability to stop his body from so obviously responding just as sweet. "It seems you do like it, boy", she said as she sauntered away to get some toys, and swaggered towards him, with a bit of a ladylike sheen and a very unladylike gleam in her eyes which he kept studying for signs of anger but he couldn't tell what was behind them. Whatever she had planned for him was all right, as long as she wasn't mad at him. But was she ? He couldn't tell as she tied his balls in a figure eight knot, nor as she took the clamps and attached them to various spots on his scrotum and thighs, ending with one each testicle, nor as she attached the long cords from each clamp to rings on her body harness, and slowly stepped back till the cords were taut, and smiled at him - evilly, but somewhere deep in those lusty gleaming eyes he perceived warmth and his heart soared - and said "So you like your Mistress as a dancing girl, huh ?" and flicked on the tape again, and began twisting and shimmying, her body bouncing nicely, and his also, as the cords and clamps pulled at him and pulled groans and screams from him, but behind the pain - increasingly far behind the pain the longer she danced, her painlust pushing her exertions, but always present - he knew she was happy and pleased with him, and there wasn't anything he wanted more. Though for that damned tape to tangle was something he wanted a whole lot. ----------------------------------------------------- "Snowball" I was thinking about how some women might perhaps find it amusing to take a man on a walk in a snowy countryside and say "When I was a girl mean boys always enjoyed putting snow down my back. Now that I'm a grown up domme, one advantage of my position is, as all readers of bad porn know, being able to get my revenge on all men. You don't mind being the stand-in for the sins of all men do you, slave ? A sort of fetish that would make you, wouldn't it ? Sooooo...." she said as she put her gloved hands in the snow and made a few snowballs. "Now for revenge !" she said as she shoved one down his back. "Hold still" she ordered. "Getting even is never enough. That's a tie, and the only ties I like are the ones I put you in. As you know, dear, I play to win", she said as she unzipped his coat and pulled the waist of his trousers forward, and put her hand down his pants, rubbing the snowball along his skin till she got it by his other balls, and pulled her hand out, leaving the ball behind. "What do you think, dear ?" she asked happily. "I think you win" was his pained response. At which she laughed and pushed him down into the snow and lay atop him, kissing him and rubbing her crotch against his and rubbing the snow in his pants against his cock and balls. "Good", she said, sitting up on him and looking down at him happily. "I like to win". "Now, come along, boy. There should be time enough for that snow to melt before we get to the store, if not it will certainly melt while we're there. Naturally, we won't comment upon your regrettable accident. Though when I get a cup of coffee for myself I may remark that you had enough coffee already this morning and let people draw their own conclusions." --- "Snowman" "I'd like to make a snowman. Let me see you make one", she said. So he set about making one, as she sat and watched, sitting on a blanket she put atop a rock, her legs stretched out so her boots appeared from below her long coat, and as she idly turned her foot he could see the high heel that'd be most impractical were not the ground so solidly frozen after several bitterly cold days, still frozen despite this morning's welcome comparative warmth. "Ah, not like that", she said. As he looked quizically at her, she said "I want the snowman laying down. So, somewhat uncertainly, he made the snowman laying down. As he positioned the abdomen, she said "So now you give him head ?" and he prepared the snowman's head. "Give him a bigger smile", she said, and he collected more stones and gave the snowman a wider smile. "I wonder why he smiles so. Think he's getting some ? I think he is, or if he isn't he should be", she said as he looked at her bewilderedly. "Take your coat off", she ordered. "Now open your pants and drop them. Now, boy. Good. Push down the shorts. Nice. Cold enough for you, slut ? Well, I'm feeling hot. Get behind the snowman. Don't pick them up, just walk over bareassed and hobbled by your pants. Good. Now on your knees. Yes, I know, dear, your knees will be in the snow. Haven't you figured out yet that that's not all that is going to be in the snow ? Good boy." "You don't seem very excited by this, boy", she said as she walked over to him. Hmmm, snow all over my boots. Lick them off. Especially that yellow snow from those dog tracks over there. Yes, I mean it. Good boy." "Not very interested in making it with the man you made, eh ? Well, tough. You;'re going to fuck the snowman up the ass. First I guess you better make an ass for him. Now fist him. Put the snow back in. Now, hands on your head while I take my gloves off - nippy, isn't it ? - just long enough to jerk you off till you're hard. Hmmm, taking awhile today... that's all right, I have time...after all, I'm not the one bareassed in the cold and on his knees in the snow. I'd suggest you get it up boy. Hmmm, getting there. If it takes awhile that's OK, I like handling your cock. Better. A little more, I think. That's good. Cock feeling good boy ? Feels good to me, feels real good in my hand, boy, yes, lover, you're feeling good now aren't you, not so cold after all, is it ? Yesss, you're coming along just fine... Now fuck the snowman, slave. NOW, boy, shove that hot hard cock in the soft snow you fisted, butt fuck frosty boy. That's an order, boy. Good boy. Lovely shriek when your cock penetrated that snowy ass. Hump him, boy, c'mon, boy", she said, kicking his ass. "Grind it in there, fuck that snowy ass. Cold, of course it's cold, he's a snowman. Fuck him. No you can't stop, please, why no, it would not please me if you stopped, fuck the snowman slaveboy. Go on, keep fucking him." "OK, love, you can stop", she said. Putting a foot in the center of his back she pushed him down in the snow. "Face down, ass up", she said, before walking around him jabbing him with the heel and toe of her boot, putting her foot on the back of his neck then the back of his head and grinding his face in the snow, before working a toe under his forehead and pushing his face up, then resting her foot in front of his face and saying nothing till he kissed her boot. "Now, I'm going to fuck two snowmen", she said, opening her coat and taking a harness and dildo from her sack and putting them on over her jeans, before bending over the snowman and fucking him, if repeatedly thrusting into someone's lower back is fucking, and then taking some snow in her gloved hands and rubbing it over the dildo. "Now for you, boy", she said, taking a tube of lube from the sack and squeezing it into his anus and then fingering it. "yes, boy, I imagine the lube is very cold. I guess I could have kept it closer to my body to warm it. But if you want cold boy - or even if you don't - here it comes", she said as she bent behind him and began working the cold snowy dick into his ass, giggling as he gasped and more as he groaned loudly as it made it's way in, and then she started the in-and-out, working her hips and knees as she fucked her boy with a lot of movement as the cold cock worked his warm rectum as he moaned into the snow and she rode and wiggled and got hotter, stopping briefly to open the top of her jeans and take off a glove so she could slip a warm soft hand into her hot wet crotch and help herself to pleasure as she helped herself to his pain and road that cock into his ass and drove his face into the snow until between her feelings and his sounds of pain, she came, and as he knees went weak she feel across him and held on as she rested against him and said "stay, boy", and radiated there in the snow and cold until, afterglow fading, her sweaty body began to feel the cold and she stood, just a little shakily, and said, "Well, stop laying around boy, and let's head, home, don't you know it's cold out here ?" and helped him up, his cold legs barely able to hold him, and the helped hold each other up as he pulled his clothes on and then she staggered off with one snowman, pretty badly wasted but still functional and he'd recover, leaving the other ruined snowman behind to die in the midday sun, but not, she hoped, before some people came upon the most intriguing sight. ---- "Strappado Dance" > Brrr, cold. :) > (I think I prefer heat) hehehehehehehe Well, since you're not *certain* which you prefer, we'd need to run some tests. And since, conveniently, you have two hands, two feet, two breasts, and two butt cheeks, we should be able to apply cold to one and heat to the other - making you, on the average, quite comfortable, so of course your complaints will be ignored (actually, they will be listened to most carefully, they just won't alter your circumstances) - until we determine which one you prefer. You might think that a cruel sadist would then inflict upon you what you like the least. Perish the though. If you do prefer heat, why, my dear, heat you shall have. I'm sure you would be delicious in a strappado (your hands tied behind you, and then raised up, forcing you to bend over as your arms move upward) standing before a low table covered with candles whose heat will warm your lovely breasts. You wiggle so nicely, dear. It makes those wonderful breasts, dangling so deliciously, sway quite delectable. Which makes it so hard to keep my hands of them. Damn, that's hot. Your swaying is hot, of course, but what I meant is the heat coming up from those candles is hot, so hot I can't stand to cup and fondle your breasts. But I suppose you already knew the heat coming up at your breasts was intense. Unbearable, I'd say. I imagine you agree. But there's not much you can do except bear it; with your mouth taped you can't even try blowing out the candles. And tied as you are you can't do much but do a little dance over the flames; even that small motion must be hurting your shoulders terrible. It looks so painful having your arms raised like that. Of course, knowing that it's hurting you makes this all even sexier. And seeing how badly you want to get away from the heat from those flames, but you can't, ohhh, that gets me so hot - in a much more pleasant way than it's getting you hot, my sexy friend. I do so want to fondle those tits. Maybe if I wet my hands I can bear the heat. Hmmm, that is better. Oh, sooo nice. Do you like having my wet hands fondle your hot naked breasts, dear ? Does the fondling make it almost bearable for you ? But the effect of the moistening is so brief, and your breasts are so hot, and those candles are so pitiless. I'm not pitiless, dear, I do really feel for you - hmm, so to speak - what you are going through is so awful. What I am, dear, is merciless. I'm not going to make it any easier on you. I like seeing you suffering unbearably. The tears coming down your cheeks are so sexy, and the way you try to shake your head to get some tears to hit the candles is so precious. Of course, if it was going to reduce your pain even a little I'd cover your eyes. But it won't, so let the beautiful tears flow. But I will keep squeezing your beautiful breasts with my wet hands, since I enjoy that, and if your pain a little less, well, so be it. What matters is what I enjoy, which includes both hurting you, and also fondling your breasts. If I feel better for fondling them, that's all that matters. Not what you want or don't want, my pretty prisoner and powerless paintoy. Scream all you want, it won't help you. But I do like fondling these warm soft globes of yours, and if you like it too, well, all right. You do like it, right ? You want me to continue ? If your mouth were free would you be begging me to fondle your tits ? How nice for you that I enjoy it, then, since your pleas wouldn't help you. What might help you is if I got so hot I couldn't bear it another moment and had to have you right now. Since I don't like to fuck standing up, I'd have to let you down to bed you and fuck you. You want me to bed you and fuck you ? How amusing. Well, dear, wiggle that sexy body of yours. Move those hips and make that ass and those tits bounce so sexily. I know that standing bent over, your arms cruelly raised and your ankles hobbled, you can't move much and when you do it hurts. But you've such a plush lovely form, you needn't move much to create gorgeous effects. And the heat must hurt way more. So go on, dear, do a strappado dance over the flames, make that body move till I burn so that I have to have you. So sexy, you're soooo sexy and your suffering is so sweet. Ohhhh, oohh, oooo you are such a lucky little honey that you're so sexy, you won't burn.... not today.... Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...uuuhhhhhh... uuuhhhhhhhhh ------------------ "Gauntlet" - A "Strange Woman" Image (only the words of the dominant are heard). Hmm, second enema done, boy ? Good. Put your hobbles on. Good. Now, put your hands behind your head, dear. No, a little... ah, well, here, let me place them as they should be. OK. Now to the tape... well, no, I'll be kind this time, let's start with saran wrap. Now the tape.... There, that should do. Your arms are nicely immobile around your head and your eyes totally covered, just your nose and mouth are uncovered. Oh, and your ears, for the moment. Open your mouth dear...hmm, no, not yet. Sit down, here, here's a chair, sit. I'm going to tell you what is going to happen to you tonight. Or, rather, what is going to happen to you if you don't safeword now. And yes, dear, I know how bad it make you feel when you safeword, and I rather like that fact. And if you feel like anything that I may say to you is blatantly, cruelly, and selfishly manipulative, well, dear, it is. I blatantly, cruelly, and selfishly manipulate you to get what *I* want, and that's the way I like it. Fortunately, it's also the way you like it, even if you often don't like what happens to you because of it. But I do love you so much for the way your bear those things for me. Is that the truth or am I just manipulating you some more ? Oh, don't you wish you were certain what the answer to that was ? {laugh} Oh, what would you do to be sure I loved you, and what would you do for me if you were convinced I loved you ? Even better, what would you do for me if you believed it would make me love you ? Not answering, dear ? I can't say that I blame you. Anyway, here's what I propose that you do tonight to try to gain my love, and by the way the admiration of a bunch of women. When we're done chatting I'm putting earplugs in your ears, then dripping hot candle wax over them, then putting ear protection over the ears, "wax build up" and all, and taping those earmuffs in place, using a lot of tape. When I'm done you will barely be able to hear even fairly loud sounds close by, and picking up sounds from out of a noisy background will be impossible. Then I'm going to stuff a towel in your mouth and lead you to my car, then hook up your genitals to a device using the cigarette lighter's current. The pain will help keep you distracted so that you won't know where you are being driven; it will also amuse me a great deal, which is the important thing. When we get there I'll lead you into a party and push you out onto a ballroom floor, where whatever happens will happen. One thing that will definitely happen is that the ladies are going to strip you. I'd don't know if that old thing about making women strip and stripping men is true, and I don't really care, I just thing we'll have more fun slowly stripping you as the night proceeds. Often with sharp blades, so you won't have a stitch of clothing to wear home, but that's your problem if I decide you should walk home. You'll be walking around blind, naked, and quite defenseless for some time, and people of both genders *are* going to take advantage of this in various ways, some sexual and some sadistic and often both. By the end of the evening you're going to be all used up, boy, and you won't know who has done you or done what to you. I'll expect you to cooperate as much as you can, and I'll allow them to use reasonable force to get you to cooperate. I trust you know that it will reflect badly on me if you don't behave well, and that I quite enjoy the status I get from being your owner and from you behaving well, and I'll be quite angry with you if you should do anything that makes me less likely to be invited to the big parties - well, the big parties among my sort; most of those supposed heavy dominants are scared to death of me and wouldn't let me near their submissives, which quite amuses me - and quite intrigues their submissives. I also hope you know that everyone at this party is much too scared of me to damage you, well, to do so without my explicit consent. I might rip you to pieces for my amusement or watch it happen, but anyone damaging you without my consent is being disrespectful to me and that will not be allowed. Anyway, you'll be used up and beaten up and much the worse for wear, but still functional, at the end of the main party. That's not what you get too safeword about, that we're doing no matter what you say. Then there's the after party event. A few dozen friends invited. We'll go into a big room - I had planned to lay you across the threshold (ah, place you across it) with a rug over you and let all the ladies walk on you as they entered, but I decided you might need more energy than you might still have after that. I'm going to give all the ladies a long piece of stiff, heavy, scratchy rope, and while they are bending it double, some ladies who won the door prizes will be joining me to take the towel from your mouth and then spoon dirt into your mouth until it's well packed. Then a couple others will get to put really tight clamps on your cockhead and your balls, and walk you around the room a few times, one ahead of you and one behind you. Then you'll be led to slightly elevated track covered with nasty plastic spikes, they'll be quite unpleasant to walk across barefoot. Your hobble will be shortened, and women with ropes will line up on either side of the track, and you'll be led along it, walking slowly both because of the hobble, and because that's the pace the women with your cock and balls in clamps and chains will let you move; try moving other than how they want you to move and something you'd like to keep will get torn off. While you're walking the ladies are going to hit you hard with those ropes; they can hit you anyplace above the knees and below the next except the genitals and kidneys (oh, and yes, we have advised that the chains to your cock and ball clamps are not acceptable targets). When you get to the end, the women "yanking your chains" will be replaced and they'll get in line to get their shot at you, and you'll walk back the other way. When you've been through the gauntlet twice, we'll get you out of that tape and you can, to the extent you can still enjoy anything after a beating like you are going to get, enjoy basking in the admiration and solicitude of all these women. And in my deep appreciation and gratitude and affection. If you don't make it through, if you decide to wimp out and drop to the floor and not move, well, after everyone gets to take several shots at you, everyone including me is going to leave in disgust and leave you behind; we'll send a sub over to cut you loose later and take back those hobbles of mine you so enjoy wearing as a sign of my ownership, and then what you do is no concern of mine So, boy, now do you want to safeword, or should I stuff this towel in your mouth and we proceed according to my plan ? If you do safeword, we'll still play and I'll still have fun, but I will be very, very disappointed in you. And I'll be so very happy if you don't safeword, I'll just love it *soooo* much if you'll agree to do this for me. Does that mean I'll love you if you do this for me ? {laugh} Possibly, dear, possibly. Now, dear, what do you say ? -------------------------- "The Challenge" The man's head banged the fortunately soft grass as he emitted an array of short, high pitched sounds and twisted and shook violently as his nervous system was overwhelmed. A videotape of it could easily have been represented as evidence of terrorist experimentation with nerve gas on a helpless bound victim. Unless the camera angle showed the plump, pale, 50-ish blonde who lay across the naked and spreadeagled man, her head bobbing over his crotch as her hands under him caressed and massaged his balls. "She really does seem quite good", said the auburn haired woman watching this activity from a slight rise in the grass a few feet awhile. "She is", replied the brown haired woman sharing the blanket and umbrella with her. "My husband says she's quite amazing. It's freed me from needing to field his requests for blow jobs, now he just asks me to order the slave to suck him." "You don't like giving head ?", her companion inquired. "Never developed a taste for it", came the reply. "The slave doesn't really like it either, but that's what slaves are for, and she's learned to do it very well. Any complaints and that smooth white skin of hers would be covered with welts, and as you see, her back and ass and thighs are quite flawless." "But they might not stay that way for long" the brunette shouted at her slave. "Make him come or or you'll be a welt from your knees to your neck, girl". "Which isn't half what will happen to you if you come, boy", the auburn haired woman shouted at her slave, as the two dommes shared a smile while their slaves exerted themselves to the max, her to make him come and him to resist. "I didn't think she'd be able to get her hands in front of her like that. I know some people can do that with their hands cuffed behind them but didn't expect someone of her age to be so nimble. If I'd known she was going to be able to do that", she continued, observing the expert way the cuffed hands manipulated her slave's balls, "I probably wouldn't have made this bet". "I know", her friend said, and laughed. "But even so, really, an hour for man to not come while getting oral sex, even if the woman's hands were cuffed behind her, well, that's something of a sucker's bet, I'd say". "Groooan. Well, my boy's usually pretty good at these challenges. He knows he'd better be", she added in a slightly raised voice. But at this point it's doubtful that the man could hear her, his head back and face contorted as she sucked in what seemed like hundreds of quick breaths making him sound almost like a helicopter as he tried to hold off succumbing. His spasms and tremors appeared to have abated, though the woman laying across him could feel how they were as intense as ever but much shorter and more confined, as he seemed to move towards a strange still tremor in which the muscles of his body fired but so balanced each other as to make him seem still; only he - and someone laying atop him - could know how violently he was convulsing. The slave sucking him wondered at how long he'd lasted under her assault and how much longer his heart could stand this. But it was her hide that would pay the whip and the hot poker if she lost this challenge, and she'd managed to avoid a welt - and her Lady's displeasure - for a long time and didn't want that to change now. And she knew it wouldn't. She couldn't see how twisted his face now was, though she guessed it most be a sight since the doms had stopped chattering to watch intently. He was almost silent now; though he seemed to be screaming, scarcely any sound could get out save for some choking gurgles. The man was going to crack soon, and with quite a few minutes to spare. Her Mistress would be pleased with her. As for what would happen to her sibling sub and friend, well, that was for his owner to decide, but she guessed it'd be bad. Their owners were good friends but very competitive and each hated to lose. She wouldn't want to see what would happen to her malesub friend after his failure - as if any man could hold out against her, the slave allowed herself to think - but it wasn't her choice, she was a slave and had to obey and he, like she, had entered slavery by choice and knew the risks. Whatever he may have known, he knew little now, his mind all but gone, and he emitted a long loud groan as his body followed and with a long full-bodied shutter it erupted into the slavegirl's mouth, who stopped moving her head but kept working her lips and his balls as she emptied her friend; for what he was going to pay for orgasm he might as well have a good one. When she was done - as was he - she crawled over to her Mistress as well as she could handcuffed and hobbled and knelt and opened her mouth to show that he had come, and knelt there waiting the order to swallow which her young Mistress coyly declined to give, talking to her friend instead while the older slave knelt mouth open and dribbling. "Well, bitch, your boy has lost, now pay up." "Not working on gracious winning, are we ?", her friend replied as she rose. "What means this 'we', I'm the one who won, now payup". "All right, don't be such a bitch". "I'll be as much of a bitch as I want, at least as long as I'm winning - and I like being a bitch. Don't I, girl ? Oh, go ahead and swallow." "Here's your pack of gum, may you choke on it". "Thank you kindly. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go have my slave put her poor tired tongue to other uses". "Enjoy". "I will". As they departed, the woman walked around her beaten - ah, bested - slave. He was still too far gone to be frightened by her ominous circling, so she sat down on him while she waited for him to come around. She slipped off a sandal and pushed a bare foot against his face for him to kiss as he would when he was cognizant again. Till then she thought about what she'd do to him for losing this bet for her. Not that she really minded losing. The price he'd pay would be much more than a pack of gum. --------------------------- "Bottom bunk" Perhaps you would you enjoy the image of a subject tied spreadeagle and naked on the bottom bed of a set of bunk beds, and zir dominant is having a good time taking these two-side clamps, clamping one end on the subject's skin and the other to a long strong rubber band and using another set of doublesided clamps to attach the other end of the rubber band to the bottom of the bed above zir. Of course, the bands are pulled quite taut in this process and the clamps are quite tight and this hurts zir a great deal. But that's not the worst of it. The worst of it is when the dom finally - because some of the clamps need several tries to get to stay in place - has zir well covered from knees to upper chest, and zie lays there squirming in pain while trying to hold still because the movement hurts all the more (especially after was added a row on each side of zir, short taut rubber bands pulling strongly between zir flanks and the bed and sooo making zir wish that zie couldn't "pinch an inch"), and it gets even worse when various clamps (some pinched on very small amounts of skin, others securely biting into zir skin but precariously holding onto the bed above zir) begin to come loose, either pulling away from zir skin under the relentless pressure from the elastic bands, very painfully for zir, or, worse, slipping off the bed above zir and making band and clamp snap hard and painfully back against zir bound and spread body. --------------------------- "Bad" The steel probe slipped into the long, strong elastic tube. The catheter was unclamped, and the water came out as the the man's terribly stretched bladder was allowed to empty itself of the water his mistress had filled it with an hour ago. He thought she might fill it again, perhaps with ice water as she'd mentioned before, but as she moved to withdraw the catheter he felt considerable relief - though nothing like the relief he'd just experienced - though he knew this wouldn't be pleasant. It wasn't, but it was soon over, and he thought perhaps his torments would end. Then he saw the probe in the tube, and wondered what she had planned now. Soon the probe was being worked into his sore urethra, a much more painful experience than had been the cathetering. Once in, the probe managed to slip out of the tube rather easily - she'd apparently lubed the tube inside will neglecting to lube the outside - leaving him with an elastic tube inside his cock. He didn't want to think about what was coming next. "Does baby want a blow job ?", she cooed. "Well, boy, do you want a blow job from your Mistress ?", she asked. "What's wrong, cat got your tongue ?". No, but the dildo gag in his mouth would have made it hard for a cat to reach his tongue. Just as well he couldn't answer, since of course any answer he could give would get him in trouble. [ He could get *in trouble* ? ] "I think baby deserves a blow job", she smiled, and she hooked the end of the tube to a small hose she hooked to a compressor, and turned on the compressor. "This may take a while, a blow job should last a long time", she said. He didn't mind if it took awhile. He didn't feel anything at first, giving him some faint hope this might be a mindfuck. Then he began to feel it expanding inside him. It wasn't going to take nearly long enough. He tried casting an imploring look at her as she sat there intently watching him. She didn't catch the first one, looking as she was at his cock. He tried a couple more, and one caught her eye, and she smiled warmly. Then she smiled cruelly and shook her head slowly. And he knew that this was going to be very bad. ----------------------------------------------------------------