Play the game

March 15, 2020

Ma preference – to play the game, boys & girls, to adjust my chosen persona until reality and appearance, truth and lies, merge…I desire to fly like the child of fairies or some exotic bird from a parallel dimension, while she remains here – the first and the last, the virgin courtesan, original sin personified.

Oh, no antidote to my damnation. Only the feel of her crop – which as it should be.

like the power

January 23, 2020

I participate in BDSM, but I wasn’t abused as a child. I don’t hate women, or particularly enjoy hurting women. Sometimes I make them feel pain, but it’s consensual, it serves a purpose — to get them off — and they can indicate that they wish me to stop at any time. I do like the power I get from total submission, and the trust that my partner puts in me to give me everything, from her mind to her body, while expecting nothing in return — except the understanding that I won’t violate that trust.

Nenia Campbell
Bound to Accept

Ordered to lift your skirt

December 29, 2019

During the day you will therefore be dressed, and if anyone should order you to lift your skirt, you will lift it; if anyone desires to use you in any manner whatsoever, he will use you, unmasked, but with this one reservation: the whip. The whip will be used only between dusk and dawn. But besides the whipping you receive from whoever may want to whip you, you will also be flogged in the evening, as punishment for any infractions of the rules committed during the day: for having been slow to oblige, for having raised your eyes and looked at the person addressing you or taking you —you must never look any of us in the face. If the costume we wear in the evening – the one I am now wearing – leaves our sex exposed, it is not for the sake of convenience, for it would be just as convenient the other way, but for the sake of insolence, so that your eyes will be directed there upon it and nowhere else, so that you may learn that there resides your master, for whom, above all else, your lips are intended.

Pauline Réage
Story of O

You can never have too many toys, boys & girls…

My fantasy, wish, dream, whatever you want to call it, is of two leather-clad bitch-women force feminizing me one rainy afternoon. After they finish, they invite in half-a-dozen randy studs and tell them to have me as often as they want. ‘Use and abuse,’ they say, ‘to your heart’s content.’

I’m restrained, handcuffed, and these dudes start stripping off my panties. One of them grabs my head, forces my face to his lap. ‘Suck on that,’ he says.

Another behind me thrusts into me roughly. There are cheers and laughter. I’m like a helpless ragdoll as they have me over and over again. They cum inside me, no condoms, cum on my face and in my lipstick smeared mouth. My ordeal lasts most of the afternoon, and when they’re finally finished with me, I’m left as a cum-covered ruin, rolled in a ball on the floor.

SOURCE

Kinky Sunday Gangbang

October 13, 2019

She didn’t look very comfortable trussed up like that, the woman in red. Her legs were spread impossibly wide and we could see the straining gusset of her stripy white and black panties. She had tattoos on her ankles, calves and thighs. Her hubby had used duct tape to gag her, to trap any complaint or hint of compliance on her part – although everyone knew she was very compliant as this was, after all, her fantasy.

‘Okay,’ said hubby. ‘Who wants to have her first?’

Six men immediately raised their hands.

‘In that case, you’re going to have to cut cards for her. Don’t worry we’ve got all day. You can have her as many times as you want…’

A pack of playing cards was produced.

‘Each of you take a card. Highest card wins. Then form a queue highest card to lowest. Just push her panties to one side and you’ll have access to everything you’re likely to need…’

Bondage Games

August 18, 2019

Sunday Morning is an ideal time for your Bondage Games, but –

Please play nicely boys & girls; keep yourselves safe and sane!

Bent naked over a table, his wrists and ankles immobilized by leather straps, the man watches her slow approach. Encased in shiny black PVC she says, ‘You’ll never guess what I’m going to do to you…’

He makes a gargling sound behind that terrible ball gag.

She leans forward and whispers to him. His eyes widen in horror as the meaning of her words sinks in. His supplications are unintelligible; his safe word is this choked off imprecation of dribbled saliva.

‘You won’t enjoy it,’ she says, straightening. ‘But you will understand that I’m truly a dark-hearted bitch.’

Her laughter has the deceptive quality of crystal wind charms in a mild summer breeze.

He half-screams behind the gag when she begins. She is without mercy, unrelenting. His desire fades, becomes regret before the flashing darkness leaves him unconscious.

Outside the street is bright with afternoon sunlight.

It’s hard for an educated woman to turn her head off. That’s part of the joy of being a submissive. None of the decisions are yours. When you can’t refuse anything and can’t even move, those voices in your head go silent. All you can do, and all you are permitted to do, is feel.

Cherise Sinclair
Dark Citadel