Saturday, June 18, 2016

fs01 Visual: Cassandra's Robe

I had meant to draw these, but I stumbled across this picture that I had posted at some point earlier on the blog.

This is pretty close to how I envisioned Cassandra's robe look with her hat.

I envisioned her robe as red with black fur and probably a bit more fur trim and covering her legs more.  The hat would also have a fur trim.  This pic sort of captures the vibe pretty well though.

Fiction: fs01 - Part 28

Author's Note:
This takes place the morning after Part 27.

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XXVIII

I wake early.  It's freezing.  My naked body shivers and curls up for warmth.  So cold.  The metal bars press against my skin.  It was so warm when I fell asleep.  It must be in the 40's, 50 max.  My hands rub my arms up and down.  I cross my arms over my chest.  I rub my legs together. Time crawls by.  The cold is inescapable.  I miss my hair, my newly shaved head provides no protection. My teeth chatter.

I hear the click of heels on the floor in the distance.  My body perks up.  I climb onto my knees and grip the bars.  Mistress.  I lean in the cage to get a view of the gate.  Anticipation.  Time crawls.  More clicks.  She makes me wait.  I barely remember the cold.  Eventually, it returns.  My hands release the bars and return to their crossed position on my chest.

The gate swings open.  Mistress strolls in with a crop in hand.  My breath leaves my body.  Her black high heeled knee boots clack along the floor.  A large fur coat encases her body, the large collar frames her face, the coat extends down just below her knees.  A matching hat upon her head, its brim slopes down partially covering her face from my view.  She taps the crop on her gloved hand.  I swallow.  My hands find the bars again.

She approaches.  I feel my sex strain against the belt.  I press my face between the bars.  My eyes lock in upon her.  Mistress.

Thwack.  The crop finds my hand on the bar.  It stings.  I flinch and I retrieve my hand in reflex. I quickly remove the other hand as well.  I take the hint and move to the back of the cage.  Mistress has on her poker face and hasn't spoken a word.  She calmly removes the padlock and opens the door.  I stay put.  Her lips part into a small grin.

Mistress takes a few steps back.  She swings the crop down and points it on the floor in front of her.  I slowly crawl out in front of her.

"Position 1."

I press my forehead to the ground and extend my arms.

"You will assume this position whenever you approach me, slave.  Also, assume this position for 3 seconds facing me whenever you enter or leave a room.  Position 2."

I slowly rise and shift my heels together.  I place my hands behind my head.  Thwack.  The crop stings my hand.  I flinch and shake it a little.  Thwack.  It stings but I hold still.

"Lower your head, slave.  You will not look at me unless I order you."

I steal a final glance.  Thwack.  The crop on my arm.  I slump my head and glue my eyes to the floor.

"You will not speak, slave, ever.  If you violate this rule you will be gagged from then on."

 She paces back and forth in front of me. 

"Anything I choose to grant you is a privilege, slave.  It must be earned and can be easily taken away.  Go clean yourself and use the bathroom.  You will have bathroom privileges twice a day, once in the morning and once before bed.  You have 5 minutes."

She claps her hands.  I rise and hurry to the gate.  At the gate I turn, kneel, press my forehead to the floor and extend my arms above my head.  1, 2, 3.  I rise and hurry off to the bathroom.  The shower is brief and painfully cold.  I rush everything.  Desperation. A quick evacuation.  I hurry back to the dungeon and appear before Mistress.

"7 seconds to spare, slave.  But you forgot something.  Position 5."

I bend over and place my hands between my legs.  My body shivers and my teeth chatter. I forgot to bow when entering the room.  She will correct me quickly.  Thwack, thwack.  The crop lands swiftly on each cheek.  I grunt on the impact.  Thwack, thwack.  I groan. It stings.  Thwack, thwack.  I yelp.  The blows stop.  I hold my position.  It is uncomfortable.  I hear her heels clack across the floor as she paces. She walks to the wall and sits upon her throne.

"Approach me, slave."

I scuttle over to her, fall to my knees and bow my head to the floor.

"Present your hands."

I rise slightly and lift my hands to her.  Cold metal closes around my wrist and locks with a click.  It repeats.  The shackles are heavy.  The 12 inch chain's links are thick and weigh several pounds.

"Ankles."

I turn onto my back, purposely diverting my eyes away from her.  I want to see her so badly.  Mistress.  I raise my legs.  Shackles close and lock around my ankles.  The chain is heavy and similar to the one that connects my wrist.

"Keep the chains silentm slave.  I do not wish to hear them clanking or dragging on the floor.  Move to the marks."

I roll back to my knees and bow, carefully raising my arms with the chains pulled taut.  I hold for 3 seconds before struggling to my feet.  The ankle chains make a sound.  The crop finds my thigh with a swift strike. I wince under the sting.  I carefully make my way to the designated spot.  The chain between my ankles is short.  I keep it taut and waddle with each step.  The metal rubs on my skin as my body pivots.

"Position 4."

I spread my legs as wide as I can and place my hands behind my head.  The chain is cold and the hairs on my neck stand as it slides down my back.  Mistress stands and presses a button on the control plate.  The motor whirs and lowers a hook from the ceiling.

"Chain on the hook."

I raise my arms and pull the chain over the hook.  She presses the other button.  The hook rises and pulls my arms above my head.  It raises me to my toes.  Mistress approaches slowly.  Each step, her heel clacks on the floor.  I smell her perfume as she gets near.  It is lovely.

I feel her fingers on my chin.  She gently strokes my jaw, the fur on her sleeve dances across the bare skin on my chest.  She intoxicates me.  She leans forward and whispers in my ear.

"Do you want me, slave?"  I nod as my sex strains against the belt.
"Do you lust for me, slave?"  I nod.

She lets a sound of disgust.  Her hand shoves my head back and slaps me on the cheek.

"Is it appropriate for a slave to hold a sexual desire, slave?"  I shake my head no.
"I'll just have to do something about that then, won't I?"  I nod.

I feel a force against my belt.  The key turns.  The front plate flips down and slides my penis from the tube.  My breathing becomes heavy. Freedom should bring an erection.  My fear and the cold leaves it limp and shriveled.  Her finger traces its length.  It twitches but doesn't rise.  She throws the plate on the ground and walks to the table.

Moments later she returns with a different plate.  The tube slides onto my sex.  It feels different.

"slave, this tube has a ring of spikes at its base.  Lust for me inappropriately again and you'll regret it."

The plate closes.  She locks it in place.

"You've been spoiled, slave.  Living a life of luxury that is far better than you deserve.  Welcome to the new world."

She walks behind me.  I feel cold rubber between my thighs.  I take a deep breath and brace myself.  I clench my teeth.  The lube makes it glide.  It presses against me.  I whimper.  I her hear smirk.  More force.

I clench my teeth.  It violates me, sliding deep inside.  Tears fill my eyes.  I hear the click of the bracket, locking it in place.  My frozen muscles strain to support me.  This woman frightens me.

She circles back around and takes my nipples between her fingers.  She presses her body against mine as she teases.  The fur dances up and down the front of my body.  I can smell her.  She's wet.  She twists and pulls.  My mouth opens ready to moan.  My sex springs to life.  Pain.  I shriek.  The spikes leave me flaccid.

"Test failed, slave.  We'll have to take away those nipples."

She reaches into her pocket.  I hear a small chain jingle.  The first clamp bites my nipple.  I wince.  She tightens it.  I clench my teeth.  Click.  The second clamp bites.  I grunt.  Tighter and tighter.  Click.

She tugs on the chain connecting the clamps.  My mouth opens but I force myself to stay silent.  Mistress disappears from view.  I hear her footsteps behind me.  Snap.  I yelp.  Snap. Tears fill my eyes.  I try to place the pain.  It's her quirt on my buttocks.  Snap.  I writhe and moan.  Snap.  My body bucks in response.  Snap.

The blows cease.  It's rare for Mistress to use a whip.  She feels like she doesn't have enough control to use them usually.  Today is different.  No holding back.  This is my punishment for attempting an erection.  She leaves me dangling for a couple of minutes.  My mind settles in.  Don't look at her.  Don't speak.  No erection attempts.  Bow every time.  Today will be a long day.

The motor whirs and lowers me back to the floor.

"slave, make me breakfast."

She turns and walks out the gate without a second glance.  I lower the chain from the hook and waddle across the room after her, careful not to let the chains make a sound.

END ACT

Thursday, June 16, 2016

A Sea of Thoughts: Experienced vs. Novice

A couple of things floated through my head today, one of which was brought on by a conversation about my past history and the other was based upon re-reading some old entries on another blog to refresh my memory in preparation for writing Arc 5 of fs01.

From a sub's perspective, I think it's probably a great disadvantage to have gone through several significant D/s relationships.  Each Domme has her own distinct style and preferences for lifestyle dynamics.  I know this was very clearly the case in my own relationships.  While I had hoped I would only ever need one relationship for the rest of my life, that unfortunately wasn't in the cards for me.  It did lead to a variety of experiences that I probably wouldn't have had otherwise.

When a D/s relationship builds around two central parties and the sub has little or no previous experience, I believe the gradual progression and growth by both parties tends to happen in a symbiotic way.  I've seen this while following other bloggers as they catalog the progression of their relationship.  Sub gets experience, craves more.  Domme gets experience, builds confidence, craves more.  Over time the dynamic grows more and more intense but always in a way that builds off of the previous experiences.  Assuming this relationship lasts at least 2-3 years or longer, it's pretty safe to say that most things "fit" pretty well in the long run.

If you aren't so lucky to have one relationship last, you're faced with a much more difficult task.  Each relationship where you reach a state one would call "trained," you have been acclimated to a certain dynamic and set of rules and expectations.  Assuming regular play is involved, your kinks are shaped in a way that works for the both of you.  If you picture yourself as somewhat of a "blank slate" at the start, if this relationship ends, your slate is now partially filled in with permanent marker.  Successive relationships gradually erode the open space and you find the deeper parts of your submissive have some fairly well-defined "triggers" that get you there.  If you are like me (using a description I am borrowing from a commenter) and "addicted" to deep levels of subspace, it feels almost as if these marks have been carved into the slate.  Changing to reverse those needs seems impossible or at least very difficult.

This creates a very difficult position to be in when it comes to "future relationships."  On one level, you are a weathered veteran and no one can doubt that you are serious about this lifestyle.  You aren't some wanker playing around in fantasy-land.  You're all in.  This is a need, not just a sex preference.  You are no longer a blank slate.

In some ways I feel like this is the difference between being a virgin or not.  Virgins may offer some appeal in that there are special experiences that can be shared with them that can only be had once.  They are more likely to be open-minded and allow coaching to do it right.  Non-virgins have the advantage of experience and the skills repetition can hone, but they already have an idea of how things should be done, which may or may not be how the other person likes it.

This is not to say that an experienced sub should feel like they are used or damaged goods, but the more sexual conditioning they have experienced, the more likely it is they will have to compromise in a future relationship and/or find someone who desires similar things to what is already clearly defined.

On occasion I have toyed with the idea of it being fun to go back to the days when just bondage was enough to get my head spinning.  That's not really realistic in the slightest so it's just an idea to be toyed with... it would be a lie to try to deny it though.

I think looking at how this same thing applies to Dommes is what makes it feel... rough to be a sub.  A Domme who has specific needs can basically choose someone who shares similar interests... or find someone who has a much cleaner slate and progress towards those interests with them.  Another option that I have seen done is to take on multiple subs to fill all of the roles if it is too difficult to locate a submissive Swiss army knife that is capable of the entire package.  It just feels like there's a lot of hope and potential here with the ability to shape someone or composite needs together with multiple bodies.

A veteran sub doesn't have the luxury of serving multiple Dommes in order to cater to their own needs or subspace so in may ways I think it can be a lot scarier.

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Fiction: fs01 Part 27

Author's note:
Start of Arc 5.
This takes place a while after Part 26.


-----------------------------------------------
XXVII

Over the past few weeks Mistress has made some changes to the routine.  Every couple of weeks we spend the day together with very relaxed protocols.  I still serve her but I am permitted to wear "man clothes" and we converse on an informal level.

On those days we will have food delivered for dinner and veg out, usually marathon watching all or part of season of a serial drama and talk about it as we go.  This is a bit of a surprise but it is also a nice change of pace.  I can tell that she wants me to be able to function better in case of emergencies or time apart.  I picture if this is what life would be like if we were a more normal married couple.  If she has to be gone for a few extra hours or leaves town for a business trip she permits me to spend a couple of hours a day after my chores are finished watching new episodes of shows that she has already seen.  I haven't watched TV in years so almost everything is new to me.  This helps ease my mind and combat the loneliness.

Mistress jokingly calls these days our "date nights," even though they don't really resemble dates and they last most of the day.  The shows she chooses are quite good and I do enjoy the conversations.  It reminds me a little bit of our first couple of months together.  Before bedtime on those nights she is careful to bring me back into subspace.  I'm locked back into my uniform and spend about a half an hour kneeling in the corner to mentally prepare myself and it gives us time to return to our normal selves.  Those nights I sleep in the cage to reinforce the position.  After these days I feel a little bit safer and more confident.

A few weeks later, Mistress approaches me with something new.
"pet, I need to ask you something."
I nod.
"I have been thinking about something for a couple of months now and turning it over again and again in my mind about it trying to find a way that it would work.  After reading a Femdom blog from a very talented author that is also a Dominant woman, I decided I want to give it a try, but I need your consent to do this.  pet, have you ever thought about what it would be like if we were more like a true Mistress and slave?"
"Yes, Mistress, I have had a fantasy or two about that before."

"I like what we have now, but at times I feel a darkness growing inside of me... like something in me is waking up and wants some attention.  There are a lot of things that scare me about this.  I have no idea what I will like and how much I will like it.  I might hate it, but I might really come to love it.  It may change me.  It also might change you.  What are your thoughts on this?"

"Is this something you think you need to find out, Mistress?"
She looks me straight in the eyes.
"pet, I think I could live without it but I will always wonder..."
"Do you feel like this may help you grow, Mistress?  To continue to evolve as a Dominant woman?"

She pauses.
"I do, pet.  I want you to know that you are enough for me.  That things are enough for me.  I just can't shake the feeling of what could be.  Who I might become.  This isn't something that I want for us full time, but I would like to experience enough to feel if this might be right for me."
I nod.
"What did you have in mind, Mistress?"
"A 3-day weekend, pet.  Different dynamics, new rules, stricter rules... it will be different... feel different."
"I will still love you, Mistress."
"I know, pet, but will you be okay if you feel like I don't love you?"

My mind spins.  At one time or another I have fantasized about this, but if experience has taught me anything, fantasies as realities can be more harmful than good.   Our eyes meet again.  She looks different... vulnerable.  Her heart is open to me right now.  I love her.  My Queen.  My Goddess.  I want to please you.  I harden my resolve.

"Mistress, as long as I know there is an end, I will endure whatever you ask of me."

She embraces me.  I feel her breath on my neck.  I hug her back.  I will do anything for you, Mistress.  My wife.

"There is a holiday weekend a few weeks away pet, we will try it then."
"I love you, Mistress."
"I love you, too, pet."

The next few weeks are normal but I know Mistress has been doing lots of preparation.  She spends more time on the phone, picking the brains of Dommes she knows that have experience in TPE.  I try no to eavesdrop, but over-hearing some is inevitable.  Those 3 days will be a relationship without love.  I will feel what it is like to be property.  Mistress will be cruel.  I brace myself for the worst.

In the days leading up to the weekend Mistress has me learn a few body positions by number.
Position 1: On my knees.  Forehead on the floor.  Arms extended above my head with mypalms flat on the floor.

Position 2: On my knees.  Heels together.  Knees spread wide.  Hands behind my head.  Head down.

Position 3: On all fours.  Knees and hips bent at exactly 90 degree angles.  Head down.

Position 4:  Standing.  Legs spread as wide as possible.  Hands behind my head.  Head down. 

Position 5:  Standing.  Feet shoulder width apart.  I'm bent over steeply at the waist.  My hands are low, between my ankles.

We train until they are second nature.  Mistress calls them out and I react, shifting my body immediately.  We work on this until I am perfect.  As I improve my speed, consistency, and accuracy I can see her eyes.  She is proud of me.  My heart fills with warmth.  I fondly recall memories of our earlier days.  The training, the effort, every fiber of my body wanting to please her.  I know that she enjoys this too.  Those feelings rush back.  I feel my love grow for her.  I hope she feels this way too.

The weekend approaches.  Friday night we break routine.  Mistress releases me from my uniform.  I wash and shave my body.  She shaves my head.  She puts me to bed in the dungeon cage.  I am naked except for my chastity belt.  She turns up the heat so that I am warm.  My eyes grow heavy.  Tomorrow will be different.  I am nervous.  Butterflies dance through my stomach like it's the night before the first day of school.  My eyes slump.  Mistress, I love you.

END ACT

Randomness: Explaining "A Sea of Thoughts"

Just something small I wanted to share...

In the olden days (2010-2012) I rarely completed a post without composing it in an external word processing program, usually having some form of outline for how I wanted to investigate a topic.

The more recent posts with the title, "A Sea of Thoughts," are a lot more random style of writing which is new to me.  Drifting within an idea until I am inspired to write and then I simply churn it out letting my heart guide things more than conscious thought.  This seems to free me up for more personal reflection but suffers from being less organized and less thorough.  It does also seem to allow for more comment interaction as well.

I guess I'm just kind of curious if people like this style of writing in these posts or not.

Any input would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

A Sea of Thoughts: Balancing Vanilla and Submission

I've been thinking a lot lately about balance in regards to the separate personas we have as subs.  We have our "man side" and our "sub side," and their behaviors rarely overlap very well.

In a lot of my writing it probably appears as if I'm a fairly one-dimensional individual.  I'm a submissive and my life is submission.  It's not that I don't have a wide variety of interests, they are numerous, it's just two things:
1. I generally kept a lot of that private since it is... private.
2. I don't have a lot of things that are important enough to me to hang onto.

Much of what I write is looking at a D/s relationship either before it starts or after the first year.  The first year is so full of growing pains and developing dynamics that it is very unique and complicated on an individual basis.

One thing that I do champion in courting is to "be interesting."  To be honest, I have a very large number of hobbies and interests.  I "phase" through them and attack them thoroughly with an OCD level of intensity.  It's probably part of what makes me interesting as a life companion (and not just a sub).

I've never been in a Femdom relationship where the Domme wanted to squash who I was as a man. They appreciated that I was well-versed in many things and could relate to many people on a large number of levels.  If we visited someone else's house to watch a football game, it would give her pride to watch me call the defensive scheme alignment and blitz package while describing why an interception was thrown due to the "mike" LB pulling an A-gap blitz forcing the RB to block and how the DE's speed rush technique beat the right tackle causing the pocket to collapse, having the strong safety in the box bumping the TE off the line causing the first check-down to be occupied and the "will" linebacker reading the QB's eyes and jumping the passing lane while he makes a cross body off-balance throw without a good step in.  Between plays I could also hold conversations about international finance, popular foreign cinema, the roots of linguistics, the failings of modern education, Greek or Roman influences in building architecture, the best video game to come out this year, obscure musical genres, and the like.

I'm a fairly well-rounded guy who can blend in to society quite well.  There are tons of things I know enough about where I can converse about them and a handful of things that I have really explored and delved into about as deep as is possible.

My D/s relationships have always kept this side of me intact. I can always come up with something fun to do, a good movie to watch, a decent book to read, and so on if that is what is called for within the relationship.  At times I'd been curious as to why I wasn't forced primarily into my submissive side, especially when being with a woman that could easily have done that and liked it.  My guess is that it really came down to balance.

I've been asked on occasion why I would be willing (or even eager) to end up in a situation where my vanilla side doesn't matter. I have so many interests, it makes them curious.  The reality of it is that I've been single much of my life.  I used interests to occupy time and fill the hole in my life where love was meant to be.  The "passions" that people think I have were merely filler... placeholders and coping mechanisms for what I needed most and did not receive.  I would give up any of them in a heart beat.

In Arc 4 of fs01 I was able to explore this a bit from a relatively extreme point of view.  How neurotic would I potentially be if all of the vanilla person was stripped away.  How important would certain things become.  How would I react to them.  The result was kind of disturbing.

I guess I just find it kind of odd, craving to be stripped away of everything I deem unimportant while knowing what it can do... and knowing that it probably makes me less interesting as a human.  Most of my balance wasn't created by choice... it just sort of turned out that way.

If I was able to go back and ask them if they prefer this balanced me vs. just the submissive me, I'm sure I would.

A Sea of Thoughts: Intolerance and Prejudice

There are a number of things I have shared recently and with the state of current events it felt like it was something I should write about.  This may go a bit all over the place, but I will try to organize my thoughts as best I can.

I will use the term "kinksters" as "anyone who engages in any outside of the norm sexual activities."  This can very from some kinky bondage play in the bedroom or non-kinky FLR to full on TPE 24/7.

As kinksters, we are all deviants of some sort.  All of us.  At some point in time, they rounded us up with all of the other "abnormal" people and mowed us down with bullets, imprisoned and tortured us, burned us at the stake, or any number of other atrocious acts committed in the name of "morality" or "God," or whatever reason.

People and society seem to have a nature to want to look down upon what is different.  Pointing out these differences gives the "normals" a means of elevating themselves above the persecuted group. "Well at least I'm not a ______."

A couple of weeks ago Lady Grey left some comments that were along the lines of "we live in a world where it's easier for a man to be gay than submissive."  I found this statement to be resoundingly true.  I also think it's a testament to the sad state of human behavior when a man chooses to go and kill a bunch of people due to sexual orientation (or associating with those people) and there are still pockets of people that think "that's okay because they were gay."  Those who want to justify it will bring out some obscure Biblical quote and twist it to their own ends.

What is even scarier is that we live in a world where being a kinkster is often seen as being "worse" than that.  If this doesn't scare you, it should on some level.  It's partly why we remain in anonymity, buried in the shadows of society or displaying our true selves only anonymously upon the internet.  It's a really upsetting thought.

You'd think it would be easy for kinksters to band together... but it's not.  I'm not going to make a broad-sweeping statement like "kinksters are closed-minded," but I have no trouble making a statement like "most kinksters are not as open-minded as they may believe themselves to be."

You'll find this heavily on the blogosphere. I find a good number of people want to look at the differences between us.  They focus on what's different.  Look at how different they are.  At least I'm not _______.  What they say doesn't apply to me because I'm not into _______.

It makes no fucking sense to me at all.  Instead of being as open-minded as we can be, we create pockets of our own personal conservatism.  We selectively choose who to associate with because they are "not too different" from ourselves.  "Hey, you do FLR?  I do FLR too, let's be friends."  "You're a sissy?  I'm a sissy too, let's be friends."

What kinksters don't do enough is to look at similarities.  What brings us together?  What makes us similar?  There are so many fucking layers of similarities that people choose to ignore it's kind of sickening.  On it's most basic level:  kinksters do not adhere to rigid conservative societal standards when it comes to relationships or sexual activity.

We ALL have that in common.  All of us.  If we didn't, you wouldn't be here reading this.  Over the years I have talked a lot about people wishing to feel normal.  I think the closed-mindedness is much the result of wanting to feel as normal as possible.  People can't just go "hey, I made this decision and I like it, fuck you if you judge me for it."  They need that lower person on the totem pole to look down upon.  They need that person that's one more level of freaky to think "at least I'm not _______."

I find a lot of this very upsetting on many levels.  I'm not immune to this either, but I try my damnedest to keep as open a mind as possible.  I may find someone writing about how great it is to have a woman shit on their chest.  I'm 99.9% certain I won't be into it.  That means I have a bias, I have a prejudice.  However, I still make the effort to see where they are coming from.  I still seek out similarities to find what "does it" for them about it and if I can understand them.   Am I truly 100% open-minded?  No.  Am I 100% closed-minded?  No.

There are many D/s factors over the years that have never appealed to me.  At some point, I came across someone who could describe it so eloquently and with a thorough understanding of the feelings behind it that I was willing to give it serious thought.  I had 0 interest in chastity until I read Giles English's "The Chastity Belt."  I was drawn in by similarities (I enjoyed his descriptions of the women in the story and their characters) and gave it a legitimate read. By the end, I was thinking "hey, I can see the appeal to this."  If you read r at eMssub's blog, there are many writings of this nature.  His portrayal of chastity, CBT, and the like are very alluring and can sell the appeal since it captures the essence of what it does for him.

Being able to learn and understand from things that are "different" from us requires a mind that is open enough to see the similarities.  You'd think that there would be more "kink unity," but there's really not.   People don't even unite under the fact that Conservatism hates us all because we are different.

In my youth I was fairly politically active and it always struck me at how divide "Liberals" are.  Watching resources divided and spread thin while some go after the environment, others against big business and their ethics, others looking at human right's violations, starving children, endangered species, treatment of non-endangered animals, currency market influences, toppling unstable governments, etc. etc. etc.  Everyone was always so hung up on their specific little niche that they failed to see the big picture... that Conservatism wins most of the time because they are united and that gives them power.

There are probably many who aren't aware of this but the BDSM and leather communities originated with post-war WWII homosexuals.  The idea of tops and bottoms come from them.  I think in a lot of ways that allows for the LGBT community to empathize with kinksters on a certain level.  I don't know if we as kinksters always grant them the same courtesy... because so many are happy that "at least I'm not _____."

In some recent writings I talked about some of the racial prejudice I faced growing up.  I know first hand what it feels like for people to treat you badly for reasons that are beyond your control. Skin color, facial characteristics, etc.  It's painful and fucking hurts.  If you haven't experienced this before it's nearly impossible to convey just how destructive this is to a person's psyche.  I think women are more open to this than men since they also have a history of groundless prejudice and I definitely see a lot more open-mindedness from them when it comes to kink-related topics.

If I have a point to this, it's just do your best to keep from being closed-minded.  I don't expect everyone to be able to openly accept or consider certain ideas that are too extreme for them.  Being 10% open-minded is better than being 100% closed-minded.  Be aware of how you judge others, especially kinksters.  Look for similarities instead of differences.  See what they do that jives with you rather than looking at their package and shoving them down.  None of us are "superior" in this.  At some point in time they rounded us all up and mowed us down... because we were different.

Monday, June 13, 2016

Fiction: fs01 Arc 4 Bonus Chapter - Blind Worship

Author's Note:

This takes place whenever :)


---------------------------------------
Blind Worship


Mistress lays on the bed beneath me.  She's naked.  Her fair skin gleans in the moonlight.  I'm naked except for my chastity belt and collar.  She's beautiful.  My sex strains against the tube as I hold myself above her.

She leans up and pulls a blindfold over my eyes.  Two words.  "Lips only."

I lower myself and gently kiss the right side of her neck.  I feel each muscle fiber flex and move beneath my touch.  I glide my lips down an inch.  Another kiss.  Her breathing is loud.  Another kiss.  I feel the bed shift as her body squirms.  I let her skin feel my breath as I move down to her shoulder.  My lips press against her.  I feel the fine hairs on her body standing up.  I move again.  Another kiss.  Every inch.  The sweet smell of her skin.  My Mistress.  I slowly work down.  I outline her in kisses.  Gently.  On her shoulder.  Her upper arm.  I press my lips again.  I hear a small squee.  I smile.  This is heaven.

I feel my way along her body.  My lips adjusting to every curve.  Another kiss.  She's aroused.  Even without sight It's obvious.  My lips find her forearm.  Gentle.  I shift my body.  My left hand grazes her side.  Thwack.  I cringe under the sting of the crop.  I flex my hand and feel it throb.  I disobeyed.  Lips only.

Carefully.  Longer motions.  Move wide.  Obey her.  My lips find her wrist.  A kiss.  I feel her fingers curl and graze my chin.  I continue, slower than I need to.  I can't help but prolong the tease.  I kiss her hand.  Around the thumb.  The top of her palm.  The base of her pinkie.  My kisses continue.  I circle back up the inside of her arm.  I lean.  My knee feels flesh.  Thwack.  I flinch and grit my teeth.
Slowly, I work my way back up her arm.  Every part of her skin smells nice.  She's soft under my lips.  She's glorious.  The inside of her elbow.  I drag my lips over the curves.  Her bicep.  Above the armpit.  I'm back to her torso.  I snake my way back and forth slowly across her chest.  My lips caress her collarbone.  I can feel her breath on my face.  She writhes in anticipation.  I slowly descend.

My lips climb the slope of her breast.  I feel my sex strain.  She arches her back.  Her skin on my thigh.  Thwack.  I shift my leg to accommodate her.  Her breast is divine.  Slow kisses.  Gentle.  I circle her nipple.  I resist the urge to use tongue.  I lick my lips instead.  The moist skin envelopes her nipple.  My lips release.  My breath provides the breeze.  She squeals.  It's adorable.  I feel her nipple rise to meet my waiting lips.  Another kiss.  Thwack.  I smile under the sting.  I couldn't resist.

Down her ribs.  I feel them rise and fall with each breath.  The tiny hairs stand on end and tickle my lips.  I reach her abdomen.  I feel it lurch and curve under my touch.  Another kiss.  She moans lightly.  Slowly.  I kiss her again.  I shift down on the bed.  I feel her.  Thwack.  I can barely feel it.  The taste of her skin intoxicates me.  Another kiss.  I can smell her sex.  She's worked up.  Waiting for me.  This game is for Mistress.  She loves to build up the hunger.

Below her waist.  I work my way down, side to side.  I can smell her, it's close.  I kiss her again.  I feel her hips rise to meet me.  I'm a brat.  I work my way to the outside.  Another kiss.  Her thigh.  My lips trace the curves.  I slide to the outside and work my way down.  I feel her lurch beneath me.  She cheats.  Her hand begins to rub.  I keep my pace.  Slowly, gently.  I kiss down her thigh.  Above her knee.  She rubs faster.  I love her.  Gently.  I trace the curve of her knee cap and slowly continue down her leg.  Her shin.  The top of her foot.  I trace it to the base of the toes.  Another kiss.  Her ankle  Her calf.  My lips relish this contact.

I move up to her knee.  I kiss the inside and listen.  She squeals just as I knew she would.  Up her thigh.  I feel her leg move wide.  It grazes my arm.  Thwack.  My lips take the cue and move inward.  Her inner thigh.  Another kiss.  Her breathing is heavy.  She continues to rub.  My Mistress.  I take my time.  This drives her mad.  I lick my lips again and kiss.  She squee's again.  Thwack.  The crop on my arm. I'm naughty.  Her hand stops and withdraws.  I work my way down her crotch.  Another kiss.  Her scent is strong.  It fills my nose.  I sense that I'm above it.  I lower my face and stop.  I know she feels my breath.

Thwack.  I plant my lips on her clit.  She moans.  I circle it with kisses.  She's going mad.  I know her.  I work my way back up.  I feel her pelvis rise and fall.  I know this game.  It's almost over.  I skip her left leg and work my way up her hip with my lips.  Another kiss.  Her hand rubs again.  Her moans no longer contained.  Gently.  My lips dance across her.  Every inch of her body.  I take it in.  The touch, the smell.  I love her.  Her naval.  Small kisses.  Closer together.

Her hand grips my hair.  I shuffle my arms to keep up.  A pull on my collar.  Her lips meet mine.  Her tongue fills my mouth.  She moans between breaths.  She consumes me.  I love her.  Our lips meld as one.  I taste her saliva.  She's wonderful.  Both hands grip my hair.  She hungers.  I follow their lead and flip onto my back.  She straddles me.  I feel her heat on my abdomen.

The game is over.  She has just begun.

END ACT

Fiction: fs01 - Part 26

Author's Note:
This takes place approximately a month after Part 25.

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XXVI

Things have changed over the past few weeks.  Mistress and I have spoken regularly.  More personal time and intimate with less formal protocols.  She shares more with me than I need her to.  I think she's unburdening her own guilt.

We have been together so long that she had forgotten just how much I have changed... that I barely resemble the man who first met her.  She understands the changes inside of me.  She makes some new rules that are as much for her as they are for me.  She tells me that she will always let me know if she is going to be late.  This eases my heart.  I've scared since her accident if I don't know that she's okay.

Mistress also tells me about Tristan even though I never asked her to.  They fooled around a little but nothing serious.  They mostly would just lay together and talk about old times.  Tristan is fun and exciting and I can understand why Mistress is drawn to her.  She does remind me that I'm her husband and she's my wife and she won't ever forget what that means again.  I love her.

We talk about what happened inside me during those days.  If she was on a business trip or the like, I always knew when she was coming home.  When she was supposed to be here and just vanished, I didn't know what to do with myself.  She asks me if I like our dynamic now or if I wished I still had more of my "old self" in me.  I tell her I like how it is now.  She tells me that she knew I would say that and wouldn't change anything even if I had said the other.

We talk about things we hadn't ever talked in detail about.  She asks me if if I prefer the maid role or if I would rather be more of a slave.  I tell her I don't know but I trust that she will do what is best for us.  This makes her happy.  I know she was worried that trust may have been damaged, but I never stopped believing in her.  She doesn't elaborate but if I know her she has something in mind for the future.

I am able to communicate the last couple of things that were troubling me.  I am a bit terrified that my world can get thrown into such a state of upheaval after only a few days without our normal contact.  She tells me that with how I am it makes sense and that she knows it was her doing that brought me here.  She will think about it and see what she can come up with if it bothers me that much.

I also ask about Dominique.  In hindsight I was a bit worried that Mistress would be angry that she came over and played a bit with me while we waited for Mistress to return.  Mistress lets me know that it didn't bother her then because she wasn't in her right mind, but that she isn't angry now because she trusts Dominique as a friend and she understands why I would get worried and reach out.  I hadn't used the phone in several years so I must have been upset.  This calms my heart.

I feel like we have grown closer.  I'm eased back into my protocols.  I feel happy every day.  Days pass and things return to "normal."  I serve her by day and we connect intimately at night.  I love her so much.

The upcoming Friday leads to excitement.  The "group" is going out again to the Cat's Eye and Mistress lets me know that B and I will be joining them.  This month's dinner will take place at Dominique's and there will be another limo.

The day of the event Mistress has me complete my full grooming.  She dresses me in a full-hem uniform with some pink panties to cover up my bottom and chastity belt.  Before we leave she orders me to eat a larger meal than usual and to hydrate.  I discover the reason soon after.  She unlocks my earmuff harness and removes the hat.  She presents me with a pink ski mask like the one I wore to her shop but this one has a fur pom pom on the top.  It covers my entire face except for the eye holes.  She secures it on with the earmuff harness.

My heart warms that she grants me this privacy although she makes clear to point out that she simply doesn't want someone figuring out who I am and trying to steal me from her.  My blushing is hidden by the mask.  I love her.  Mistress gives me a pink cape to "cover myself" while we are outside.

We arrive at Dominique's.  Everyone else is already there.  They are all dressed in their matching outfits like the previous time.  Everyone is lively and excited.  Sammy and Gordon act as waiters.  The booze flows freely.  Mistress keeps me close with a leash attached to my collar ring.  I am allowed to acknowledge others but I am not permitted to speak.  I notice B hovering near Theresa.  She's all dolled up and looking a lot more confident than usual.  Theresa has her on a leash as well.

My ears wander and pick up bits from the ongoing conversations.

"Dom said the club owner has been getting swamped with questions about us.  If we go again she'll guarantee us a VIP table and free drinks."
"Yeah, we're almost legends.  She sent me a link to the local BDSM message boards and there's threads talking about us.  The 6 matching Dommes dressed in leather and fur.  They're calling us 'the Siren Six.'"
"The 'Siren Six'?  Weren't they a Ska band in the 90's?
"I think so but people have short memories."
"I feel kind of like we're a super-hero group.  Like maybe we should have some kung-fu moves and coordinated poses."
"You're such a dork, but I like it."

We retreat to dinner.  I am permitted to stand in the corner.  Their conversations keep me entertained.

"Did you guys see that video of Dom on youtube?"
"Was that from last month?  I thought they didn't allow recording devices."
"Yeah, it was of her and that guy that begged her to whip him.  They're calling it the 'one-shot tap-out.'  I guess the club owner pulled it from the security cams and posted it with their permission.  It already has like a gazillion hits."

I smile at this news.  I picture Dominique ending the video with an "I'll be back."

They finish dinner and everyone is probably a little tipsier than is wise, but they whoop and holler, ready to go.  The crowd slowly files towards the limo.  Mistress waits outside the car door.  When I arrive the trunk pops.  She shakes her head at me and grins.
"A slave in a limo?  Really?"

I move around to the back and climb into the trunk.  She closes it behind me.  There's a small opening where an armrest connects through to the back.  I move my face close for the light and the air.  The rumble of the car's tires on the road prevents me from hearing what they are saying.

The limo slows to a stop and I feel the car rock as bodies leave the vehicle.  The trunk opens and I climb out.  Mistress soon takes my leash in hand and leads me on.  The sea of people outside part.  It's like they're rock stars. We cut the line as VIP's.  Mistress pauses for a moment and whispers in my ear.
"I really should have you stand in line with the rest of the chattle."

I let out a whimper.  She laughs and tugs my leash forward with her.  Inside the club I sense everyone's eyes on them.  We filter through unopposed and find our way to a roped off VIP table.  It's in a prime spot with a great view of all corners of the club.  A small crowd soon gathers at the edge of the ropes.  Subs of all genders, shapes, and sizes line up, almost like puppies in a pet store begging to be taken home.

A woman clad in black leather parts through the crowd dragging a hooded slave on a leash.  She crosses through the ropes without hesitation.

"I absolutely LOVE your outfits, ladies.  Could you tell me where can I get one of those?"

They direct her to Mistress.  Mistress gives her a business card.  They chat.  The woman is impressed.  After a few moments her eyes fixate on me.

"May I please inspect your slave?  That maid's dress is delightful."
"Please enjoy yourself.  If he speaks or resists feel free to smack him."

I lower my eyes and swallow.  I close my eyes.  I can feel my cheeks burn.  I feel her hands on my chest.  She pets and tugs at the collar.  Her fingers find the bondage rings.  They jingle as she drops them.  I feel a pinch on my nipple.  I wince.  My dress rises.  I feel a knock on the front plate of my belt.

"It's locking, too."
"Can I see?"
"slave, turn and kneel."

I turn away and kneel on the ground.  I feel Mistress lift my collar and tug at the locking buckle.
"Straps at the neck, wrists, and ankles.  It's one of our shops designs.  There are a few options available as well."

I continue kneeling as they exchange pleasantries.  She leaves.  After a while Mistress orders me to stand again.  The floor made my stockings dirty.  I will be punished.  The drinks flow.  After about an hour Tristan steps up and acts as gate keeper.

One by one the subs approach.  Most of them are demanding.  They are blatantly denied.  The polite ones are allowed to join us within the ropes and provide back rubs and other small favors to those who request them.  Sasha is the first to pair off with one.  She finds a slender boy in a collar and invites him to worship her feet.  He kneels and performs.  Tristan takes a cute red-headed girl that has been staring at Lisa by the hand and pulls her over.

"Sit on her lap, little one, it's okay."

Lisa blushes profusely but is too drunk to deny her.  The girl eases onto her lap and kisses her on the cheek.
"CHICK MAGNET!" the others shout in unison, raising their drinks in the air.

Tristan takes two boys.  One to rub her feet, the other to rub her back and neck.  Those who were not chosen look on.  Their eyes speak, "please pick me next."

Dominique slams her hands on the table.
"I'm bored!  Who wants to get whipped?"

Her legend precedes her, no one steps up or even makes eye contact.  She digs into her cleavage and presents a wad of bills.  She licks her thumb and flips through, pulling out 5 $100 bills.

She shouts to anyone who will hear her.
"I'll bet $500 that no one here can last 5 strikes with me!"
The chatter is resounding but no takers.
"Come on, chumps!"

A very large man in a leather harness powers through the crowd.  He must stand 6'8" and be at least 300 lbs.
"I'll be happy to take your money, 'little lady.'"
"Big talk for a small cock, little one.  Show me the money."

He opens his wallet and counts off stacks of $20's and slams them on the table.  Mistress's grin is so wide that she can't hold it back.  Theresa places her hand over her eyes and shakes her head.  Mistress takes a sharpie out from her purse and tosses it to Dominique.

The club host, Dominique, and the large man work their way through the crowd to the stage.  The spotlights turn on, shining down upon a large wooden X-frame.  The man lines up and the restraints are tightened around his wrists.  He glances over his shoulder.  Dominique strolls up, opens the sharpie and draws 2 small x's, 1 below each shoulder blade.
"The safe word is, panties."

She takes a few steps back and the host hands her a bull whip.

"Upper right!" she shouts.

She steps in and pulls the handle through.  The whip cracks and bites against his skin, splitting it directly on the drawn x.  He shrieks and slumps, a small trickle of blood running down his skin.  He regains his posture and braces himself.

"Upper left!" she shouts.

Crack.  It splits the skin on the x.  He shrieks and writhes in pain.  His body dangles, held up by the restraints.
"Please stop... no more... please..."

Dominique scratches her head, looking puzzled.  She walks up to him again.

"What was that, little one?"
"Please stop, please... this hurts too much..."

She grabs the waistband of his pants and yanks them down to his knees.  She takes out the sharpie and draws an x on his lower buttocks, just to the left of his ass crack.  She draws a matching x to the right.

"Lower left!" she shouts.
Crack.  The whip splits the x again.  He shrieks horribly.
"PAAAAANTIEEESS!  PAAANTIEES!"

The crowd cheers and jeers.

Dominique laughs.  She holds the handle of the whip up to her mouth like a microphone.
"NEXT!"
Silence.
"Seriously?  Just one?"

She holds her hand out to her side and drops the whip. The crowd parts as she marches back to our table.  As she approaches I hold up my hand.  She slaps it in a high-5 and gives me a wink.  She retrieves the wad of bills from her cleavage, adds the new stack, and returns it home.

Dominique sits down.
"Fuck!  Now I'm all turned on."

She eyes the "available" subs within the ropes.
"Which one of you boys is willing to scream for me?  I need to rub one out."

I watch their heads divert their eyes.  I brave and foolish boy at the back slowly raises his hand.  Dominique stands up, wraps her finger round his collar and tugs him toward the bathrooms.

Moments later we hear several shrieks coming from that direction.  A few minutes later Dominique returns to her seat with a smile on her face.  The sub boy doesn't return.

The rest of the night continues as it did before.  Loud merrymaking all around.  Drinks continue.  Speech slurs.  The evening winds down.  I find myself lost in thought.  Mistress looks happy and beautiful.  Everyone looks happy, even Lisa, who is now drunk enough to cop a feel.

I love my Mistress.  I love my life.  I love that I am a part of this.

On the ride home I'm allowed to sit inside the limo.  A few need help getting in and out.  The limo takes us home instead of back to Dominique's first.  Mistress holds my hand on the ride back.  Her eyes are tired.  I smile at her.  She smiles back.  When we arrive I carry Mistress princess-style to the door, through the door, up the stairs, and into the bedroom.  I gently place her on the bed.  She yawns and pats the bed in front of her.  I curl up with her.  I am the little spoon.  She wraps her arms around me.  I feel her breath on my neck.  She snores.  It's cute.  I love her so much.  My Mistress.  My Queen.  My Goddess.  You are my everything.

END ACT / END ARC

Oops, not so fast Arc 4.

After staying up way too late to finish Part 25 last night I realized that I "broke my formula" and it is needing another part to wrap things up.  This will include the bonus chapter I was planning as part of it.

While I would prefer to cut the Arc on an emotional peak and closure point, I realize it doesn't always complete the Arc in a way that gives mental closure and leaves some loose ends floating that haven't been tied off. 

Sorry for jumping the gun on that, I will try to have Part 26 done within the next day or two.

Thoughts on the Completed Arc 4 (Possible spoilers, do not read unless you have finished Part 25)

I just completed Arc 4.

I have a bonus chapter slated that should appear shortly.  You can probably guess what it will be based upon the end of Part 25.

I ran out of gas a bit after writing Part 23 but some comments and a conversation with a reader about how that part ended re-energized me when I realized that questions and impressions I was hoping to give were felt by the readers.

With this arc I wanted to cover two bases.
1. The mental trap a sub can fall into when faced with obstacles that shake the foundation of their world.
2. I wanted Cassandra to be a bit more human.  Aside from a small miscalculation in the first Arc, she hadn't really misread a situation yet.  I figure it's more realistic to have her make a mistake now and then and reinforce that fs understands that may happen.

My "writer's high" that I had been riding for the past few weeks is starting to fade a bit.  I really don't want to force anything.  I'm guessing this may show a little bit in a handful of my recent posts.

It's a good challenge to present a realistic problem in D/s life and then try to find a way of working through things.  Arc 4 was loosely based upon some actual experiences of mine that were unpleasant to go through and left me confused and hurting within them.

I'm still open to ideas for future story arcs if anyone has any ideas or things they would like to see.

I can say that I have really come to enjoy the characters that I have created.  Stretching them out over this long has really allowed me to evolve them and provide an interaction history that really feels familiar now.

Thank you everyone for the feedback so far.

Fiction: fs01 - Part 25

Author's Note:

This takes place the morning after Part 24.

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XXV

I wake up sore and groggy.  The dungeon cage doesn't have the same padding that the one in Mistress's bedroom has.  Yesterday was a long day.  I need water.  I crawl out slowly and see a note.

"pet,

I've gone on a day trip with Tristan.  I'm not sure when I'll be back.  Keep yourself busy.

-Mistress"

My spirits fall.  I feel a twist in my heart.  Mistress, I love you, I wish you were here.  I prepare a small breakfast and drink plenty of water.  There is a lot of work to be done.  Laundry, dishes, vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing, mopping, and polishing the silver and furniture.  I work through them one by one, making sure to be thorough.  I'm a little bit slower today.  I don't feel right.

It's nearly dinner time by the time I finish my chores.  My stomach growls.  I skipped lunch.  I eat a peanut butter sandwich with some carrots and celery.  It tastes terrible.  I lay on the doggie bed after dinner and rest.  Time passes slowly.  I keep my ears perked for the sound of a car.  11pm.  I shuffle my way to the bathroom and brush my teeth.  I retire to the dungeon, curl up in the cage and doze off.

I wake up.  I feel better than yesterday, but something feels wrong in my chest.  I crawl out of the cage and make my way upstairs.  I go to the bedroom.  The door is open.  No one is there.  The covers are messy, so I know Mistress returned last night but she's gone already.  I look on the nightstand for a note.  I don't find one.

I make Mistress's bed and straighten up the room.  I clean the bathrooms today and do more laundry.  After chores I sit and fidget.  Time passes slowly.  My heart aches.  Time passes slowly.  I look at the clock.  7:30pm.  I go to the phone and dial it slowly.  Mistress's cell.  It rings twice and goes to voicemail.
"Mistress, I just wanted to check that you are okay.  I love you."

I curl up on the floor near the phone.  Time passes slowly.  9:30pm.  I work up my courage and call Theresa.  She answers.
"Hey Cass, we missed you at work today."
"Miss Theresa?"
"fur, how are you?"
"Miss Theresa, do you know where Mistress is?  I'm worried."
"I haven't seen her at all today, fur, she didn't come in to work."
"I'm worried, Miss Theresa."
"I'll track her down, fur.  Don't worry about it, I'm sure she's fine."
"Thank you, Miss Theresa."
"Are you okay, fur?"
"I trust you, Miss Theresa, thank you."

I go downstairs to the dungeon and curl up in the cage.  Theresa managed to calm my heart.  I doze off.

I jolt awake.  The cage door clanks.  It's Mistress.  I smile at her.  Her face scowls.

I kneel to kiss her feet.  Her foot shoves my shoulder away.
"Stand up."

I rise.  Her hand grips my collar and she pushes me against the wall.  She attaches shackles around my wrists.  I turn my head and look over my shoulder.

"Don't look at me."  Her hand presses my face up against the wall.

"Mistress.. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry... I'm sorry."  I cry.

"Did I give you permission to talk?"
"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."  I sob.

"You leave me no choice."  I hear her boots click out of the room.

A few minutes later she returns.  I weep.
"I can't even enjoy myself with a friend for 1 day without you calling everyone about me."

I press my eyes closed.  Tears stream.  She pulls against my belt and twist my waist.  I feel the front plate of the CB release.  I'm not hard.  This isn't sexy.  I hear some pings and snaps of metal on metal.  The front plate returns.  I feel some extra pressure and cold metal between my legs.  She tugs on the back of the belt.  A couple of clicks.

"I ordered this plug attachment just in case you stopped following my orders pet."

I feel cold rubber against my rear.

"No, please, Mistress.  I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.  Please."
"What did I say about speaking?"

She presses hard.  My cheeks spread.  I cry out.  It's too big.  It hurts.  I scream.  It's inside me.  I wail.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."

In deeper.  It hurts.  I hear a click.  I bawl and shake against the shackles.  I feel violated.  I feel sad.  I hate myself.

I finally calm down and sob softly.  Mistress unlocks my shackles.

"The cage, now."

I walk slowly.  I can't look at her.  I crawl into the cage.  She closes it behind me and locks it shut.

"Think about why I'm doing this, pet.  I'll send someone to check on you."

Her boots clack against the floor.  The light goes out.  I hear the gate close.  I curl up and weep.  I don't understand.  My head spins.  What am I supposed to feel?  Everything hurts, inside and out.

I cry until there are no more tears.  I lay motionless.  Eventually my eyes grow heavy.  I doze off.

My sleep is anything but sound.  I wake early.  I stare out the bars.  I hate this feeling.  I'm sorry Mistress, I don't understand.  I hear the gate.  I press my face against the bars to get a view.  It's Theresa.  My heart aches.  I put my head down and weep.

She unlocks the cage.  I speak in a small voice.  My throat is hoarse from all the crying.
"Hi, Miss Theresa."
"fur, please come out."

I crawl slowly.  My body doesn't have the will but I manage.

"Do you have to use the bathroom, fur?  Cass said there's another lock in place."

I shake my head no.  I feel torn apart in my heart.  I try to remember my manners.

"Can I get you anything, Miss Theresa?"
"No, fur, come upstairs please."

I nod.  I slowly rise to my feet and follow her.  I can't think straight.

Theresa sits on the couch.  She pats the spot next to her.

"fur, I'm ordering you to lay here."

I nod and slide onto the couch.  She directs me onto my back and I place my head on her lap looking up at her.

"Are you okay, fur?"

I shake my head no.  I cry.

"What's wrong, fur?  What's bothering you?"

I shut my eyes.  I shake my head.  I pour out my heart.

"I don't know... I don't know I don't know.  I don't know anything anymore.  I don't know."
"B told me a little bit about what is going on.  Do you feel trapped where you worry about Cass but then feel bad for worrying about her?"

I nod.

"And it's even worse now that you've been punished for it?"

I nod vigorously.

Theresa picks up her cell phone and makes a call.

"Cass, get here right now."
Pause.
"I don't care what you are doing, drop everything and get here right now."
Pause.
"If you aren't here in 20 minutes I'm taking fur away from you."

She hangs up.

The silence is awkward.  Theresa pets my head.  We hear a car pull up.  The front door opens.  The quick patter of steps.  Mistress enters the living room.  I close my eyes.

"slave, off the couch, kneel."

I roll over and kneel on the floor.

"What the hell, Cass?"
"I'm pissed off, T.  I'm tired of being hounded like a child."
"Do you even hear yourself, Cass?  You're acting like a child."
"Where do you get off threatening to take away my sub?  He's my husband, damnit."
"He is your husband.  Can you even see what's going on here?"
"Yes, T.  He's being jealous."
"Those are Tristan's words, Cass, not yours.  You pulled this same bullshit back in college.  She waves her hand and you come running.  It almost ended our friendship back then.  Keep this up and it will end our friendship now."

Mistress clenches her teeth.  She sits on the love seat.

"Why are you so angry, Cass?"
"fs should be able to find something to do rather than worry about me."
"Really, Cass?  Is that really what you think?  A couple of months ago he nearly lost you.  You didn't see what that did to him.  You didn't see what he had to go through to be with you.  And besides, you're the fucking shrink, why can't you see it?"

"See what, T?  I don't think you should be lecturing me on this."
"You really are blinded by her, Cass.  She makes you stupid.  She makes you do stupid shit.  It's junior year all over again.  You nearly flunked out of your classes due to attendance.  Do you really think this is jealousy?"

"Is that your 10 cents of free advice, T?"
"Okay, gloves are off.  I love you, Cass.  You are my best friend.  You have been my best friend for 15 years.  Right now, you are being a stupid bitch who's carrying a flame for a woman who never actually loved you in the first place.  You say that fs is being jealous?  You say that he should find something to do?  Do you hear yourself?  Get your head out of your ass.

Cass, you took away every part of him that was equipped to deal with this and put him through it without putting him back together first.  How is he supposed to kill time?  He has no hobbies, no money, no friends, and no driver's license or car.  He can't even watch porn and jerk off.   This isn't just some cute game for him, so stop treating it that way.  All that matters to him is you.  All he thinks about is you.  You took away his life and all he has left is you.  He loves you so much that he can't even get mad at you for leaving him alone.

He gets worried when you aren't home on time.  He wants to spend time with you.  He has no one else.  He has, no one else.  When you punish him for being what you made him it makes him hate himself."

Theresa's face is read.  Her eyes are direct and focused.  Mistress looks stoic... her eyes are empty, cold.  Mistress stands.

"I'm going for a walk."  She departs the room without a second glance.

We sit in silence for a moment.

"Thank you, Miss Theresa."  I bow and press my forehead to the floor.

"fur, pack a bag.  I'm taking you to my place.  You're not safe here."

I thrust my arms around her ankles.  Tears fill my eyes.

"Please, Miss Theresa.  Please don't take me away.  I'll be okay.  Please don't take me from Mistress."
"It's for your own good, fur."
"No, please.  Please don't take me away.  I love her.  I'll be okay.  I love her.  You'll see."
"fur." Her voice is firm.  I bawl.

"Please don't take me away, Miss Theresa.  Please don't.  Please."

She sits in silence.  I cry myself into exhaustion.

I hear the door.  Mistress enters.  I look up.  Her eyes are teary.  She smells of cigarettes.  She sits again on the love seat.  Theresa holds up her cell phone and faces it to Mistress.

I hear the playback.  "fur, pack a bag..."  Theresa recorded a video.  I hear my pleas and begging and sobs.  Mistress covers her face with her hands and weeps.

"I'm sorry, pet.  I'm so sorry."

I crawl to her and wrap my arms around her waist.  She embraces me.
"I love you, Mistress."

She cries until she can't.  I squeeze her.  Mistress is back.  The volume of her voice staggers with each breath.

"T, if I ever do something like this again, please hit me.  Hard."

They both share a laugh.  Theresa leaves a few minutes later.  I bow and thank her with all my heart.  Mistress leads me to the bedroom. I lay face down on the bed.  She unlocks and removes the plug.  I whimper.  I remain still as she applies some ointment.  I hope that is the last I will ever see of the plug.

We shower together.  I wash Mistress, caressing every crevice of her body.  She kisses me.  My heart fills with warmth.  After the shower, I dry her gently with a towel.  She holds out her arm.  I fetch her robe and slide it onto her arm and wrap it around her body.  I straighten the collar and cinch the robe at the waist.  I kneel and kiss her feet.  First the right foot, then the left.  I dry her hair with a blow dryer and rub lotion on the parts she requests.  My Mistress.  My Queen.  My Goddess. I love her.  She has returned to me.

She motions to her head and feet.  I stand on my toes and place her hat on her head, careful to line up the contours.  I kneel and slide each foot into its slipper.  I kiss her feet again.  She strolls across the room, clicking the white remote on the dresser as she passes.  I hear the air conditioner kick on.  A cool draft flows across the room.  Goose bumps form on my naked body.

Mistress sits upon her throne.  She motions to me.  I approach her and kneel.  She parts the robe and spreads her legs.   I place my hands on her thighs, lean forward and kiss her sex.  She places her hands on mine and squeezes.  I glance up and her face is serene.  She smiles.  I feel warm inside although freezing on the outside.

I press my lips to her skin, surrounding her clit.  I flatten my tongue and press against it.  Light suction.  I make a small circular motion with my tongue.  She breathes deep.  Her grip tightens on my hands.  Her scent fills my nose and intoxicates me.

I continue with my tongue.  Her breathing speeds up.  I feel her pelvis twist and grind against me.  Faster.  I press more firmly with my tongue.  Faster motions.  Around and around.  Faster.  More pressure.  Her thighs begin to move a little, opening and closing in rhythm with her grinds.  Faster, more pressure.  Her head tilts back.  I watch her ribs rise and fall.  She lets out a low moan.  Faster, faster.

I feel her thighs slam against the sides of my head.  Her hands release mine and she grabs hand fulls of my hair.  She yanks my face in tighter.  I keep licking.  My Mistress is back.  Faster, faster, more pressure.  She cries out.  She tugs at my hair in rhythm.  Yank.  Yank.  Yank.  I press harder with my tongue.  She squeals.  Her thighs press tight.  Her body pulses in a series of spasms.  A final cry and she releases her juices down my chin.

She releases my hair.  I look up at her.  Our eyes meet.  She mouths "I love you."   I smile.  She grins.
Mistress leads me to the bed.  She lays down and pats her lap.  I crawl on and curl up next to her.  I am the little spoon.  Her arms close around my waist.

"pet, I'm so sorry.  I'm so sorry about all of this.  I wasn't thinking clearly and I misread what was happening."
"It's okay, Mistress.  I love you, no matter what."
"How can you say it's, okay, pet?  Aren't you mad or hurt?"
"Because, Mistress.  I love you.  I'm not mad.  If I'm hurt, I'll heal.  Remember, Mistress, we're all human."

She squeezes me tightly.  I feel her breath on my neck.

"pet, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

I grin and giggle.  I blush.
"pet?"
"Anything, Mistress?"
"Anything within the rules, you know that."
"The next time everyone goes out to the club together, can I go too?"

Her hands ruffle my hair.
"You and your dirty mind, pet.  Yes, you can go with us next time.  Maybe I could let you out of a chastity for it and put you in a KTB instead..."  She giggles.  I groan.

"Mistress?"
"Yes, pet?"
"I love you so much."
"I love you too pet."

"Mistress?"
"Yes, pet?"
"I'm cold.  Can I put some clothes on?"
"Why, pet, I didn't think you would want to be back in your uniform so quickly..."
I groan and blush.

"pet?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"You'll be in the punishment lining uniform for a week.  While a lot of this was my fault, you did disobey me twice yesterday.  That hasn't happened in a while.  This will help remind you."

I nod.  I feel phantom itches all over my body.

"pet?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"You won't have to wear the plug anymore but I think I'm going to leave the locking bracket on... just... in... case."

I groan.

END ACT

Fiction: fs01 - Part 24

Author's note:
I apologize for the odd presentation of dialogue.  This is the most simultaneous characters I've ever had.

This takes place the morning after Part 23.

---------------------------------------------
XXIV

We wake together.  Mistress sends me to prepare breakfast while she showers.  I am cooking for two today.  I prepare waffles with fruit, bacon, coffee, and juice.  Dominique is not a morning person.  She stumbles to the table in a disheveled state and sits next to Mistress.

I serve them.  A few cups of coffee later and everyone is livelier.

"When is the last time you had bacon, little one?" Dominique asks with a grin.
"Umm, maybe 4 years ago, Miss Dominique."
She smirks.
"Such a shame."  She chomps down a piece before my eyes and savors it.
Mistress smiles.  I smile back with a small blush.  One of her favorite things is reinforcing status symbols and Dominique did that for her.

"Cass, I think you should start milking fs twice a week."
"Why is that, Dom?"
"He gets a little too frisky and that might calm him down a little."  Dominique smiles and looks at me while making a circle with one hand and pokes through it with her finger repeatedly.
"I'll give it some thought, Dom."

I frown.  Dominique laughs.
"That face! He is just so much fun to tease, Cass."
"If that's what you think then maybe I should just keep him plugged all the time."  Mistress's lips part in a wide grin.

I cringe.  Dominique slaps her thigh cracking up.  Mistress joins her in the laughter.  I let out a small sigh.  The seeds have been sown.  I can only predict how long it will take them to sprout and grow.

After breakfast Mistress sends me to start Dominique's car.  They converse in the living room for a few minutes.  When I return they are on their feet.  I help Dominique into her coat and boots.  I bow my head.

"Thank you, Miss Dominique, for keeping me company.  It means a lot to me."
"Any time, little one."  She mouths a kiss and tweaks my nipple.  I blush.

Mistress and I return to the living room.  She carries the mittens, blinders, and ring gag that were a gift from Dominique.  She sets them on the coffee table and lays on the couch.

"pet, come lay with me, we need to talk."  My heart twitches.  I haven't been allowed on the couch with her in years.  I climb up and slide up against her.  I am the little spoon.  I brace myself for the unknown.

"pet, were you worried about me yesterday?"
"Yes, Mistress.  When you weren't home by 9 I called your phone.  Then I tried Theresa and Lisa.  When they didn't answer I called Miss Dominique and asked if she had heard from you."
"pet, you don't have to be over-protective.  I was planning on being home earlier but things ran a little late.  Were you lonely?"
"Yes, Mistress."

She hugs me.
"You know, pet, I haven't seen Tristan in ages.  It's okay if I spend some time with her too, isn't it?"
I nod.
"I can't have a good time if I feel guilty about going out, pet.  This isn't that different from when I go out of town for work.  Do you understand?"
I nod.

She hugs me again.  I love her.  Confusion swirls in my head.  I miss her but I don't want to upset her.  I don't know what to do.

Time passes and the next few weeks return to normal.  Mistress and I are together every day.  I go with her to work on Fridays.  I am happy.  She talks to Tristan daily on the phone.  Mistress's sex drive is up.  I pleasure her several times a day.  Occasionally the confusion nags at me.  I bury it and focus on Mistress.

This coming Friday Mistress has me stay home from work.  She has an event planned.  I spend the day preparing hors d'oeuvres and planning a meal for 7.  We haven't used the dining room in a while.  It will be a nice change.

Mistress returns home early from work.  She is lively and full of energy.  She retires to her room to get ready.

Lisa arrives first.  I greet her.  She wears a fur-trimmed cape that covers her body and declines my request to check it for her.  She looks very pretty.  Her hair and makeup have been done with care.  Mistress greets her wearing a similar cape and they convene in the living room.  I serve them wine.  They sit and chat.

Dominique arrives next.  She dons a cape and enters with her normal amount of flair.  I escort her to the living room where she pinches my nipples.  My blush is dwarfed by Lisa's, I can only imagine she is picturing my nipples as penises right now.  Dominique notices and teases her.

Theresa and B arrive next.  Theresa also wears a cape.  B is different.  She's looking a bit goth with dark makeup and a black fur-trimmed dress with a leather corset over it.  I take her coat.  She remains aloof.  It's been a while since we last saw each other but she is different... she seems... superior.

Sasha is here, also clad in a long cape. She's still unfamiliar to me as my only interactions with her were in the testing lab and at the park.  She scares me a little.  Sasha is also clad in a cape.  Her eyes pierce me as she mentions that she's been hearing about my experiences with some of her designs.

Tristan is the last to arrive.  She pulls up in a stretch limo with her upper body hanging out the sunroof.  She comes inside without a glance or a word to me.  A cape covers her body as well.

Everyone meets in the living room.  I attend to them all with wine glasses served off a silver tray.  Mistress is the first to speak.

"Welcome, everyone.  In order to celebrate Tristan moving to our city, we'll be going out for a night on the town.  I hope everyone's got their outfits on and ready."

Mistress shoves her cape back over her shoulders revealing her black leather and fur dominatrix outfit with thigh high boots.  Everyone else follows.  I remember presenting these to Lisa, Theresa, and Dominique following my rescue from Renee's compound.  Sasha and Tristan have matching ones but in unique colors.  They are a sight to behold.  My sex strains against the belt.  B sits on the couch and blushes.  A quick group photo is taken.

Lisa puts her hand on her forehead.  "I can't believe I'm going out in this..."

Dominique approaches her and holds her wine glass to Lisa's mouth, tipping it high and 'forcing' her to drink.  "You'll be fine, Lisa, you look hot."  Dominique smiles and gives her a light slap on the bottom.  Lisa blushes and finishes the wine.

My eyes zone in on Mistress.  She looks so alive and vibrant.  I love her.  I lust for her.  The voices fill the room.  So many conversations going on at once.  I pick up bits and pieces of them.

"So where are we going tonight?"
"A BDSM club called the Cat's Eye.  I know the owner, we're getting a VIP table."
"I'm nervous, I've never been to one before."
"With how we look, it's everyone else that will be nervous."
"Tristan is going to search for a new sub, right?"
"Yes, her outdoor houseboy refused to move here saying it was too cold during the winters to spend so much time outside.  I believe she also may be looking for a girl to play with."

Mistress motions to me and I serve the first wave of hors d'oeuvres.  They seem to like the food.  That warms my heart.  It will make Mistress proud.  As each tray empties I return for another wave.  I keep their wine glasses full.  Soon everyone is a little bit more relaxed and with the exception of B, bordering on tipsy.

Hands begin to wander on my next round.  A pinch here, a slap there.  My buttocks, nipples, and cheeks must be appealing toys to play with.  My cheeks reach a constant state of blush.  This may have resembled a fantasy at one point but I feel a bit overwhelmed and overstimulated.  When the food is gone I retreat to a neutral area and remain on call with the wine.

Not long after Mistress announces that dinner will be served.  I lead everyone to the dining room and help seat them.  Mistress is at the head of the table with Tristan to her right.  Theresa is on the far end with B to her right.  The others fall in between in the available spots.  I begin to serve the courses, starting with a salad.  The conversations stay lively and everyone seems comfortable and happy.  As I present each course I linger within ear shot.  Mistress receives many compliments on the food.  I am happy.

After desert, they prepare to depart.  I'm a bit disappointed I cannot join them, but I have to remember my place.  I'm sure they will be a force of nature at the club and I can only imagine the reaction they will get.  They slowly file out the door and into the limo, laughing and whooping as they go.  The car pulls away.

I meet with B in the living room.  She sits on the couch.  I curl up on the doggie bed.
"fur sissy, isn't that a little informal to do without permission?"
I scamper up and lower my head.
"I'm sorry, Miss B."

She motions to me.
"Kneel over here, fur."

I kneel on the floor near her spot on the couch.  She pets the fur on my hat.  I notice her collar for the first time tonight.  It dawns on me.  B's new confidence makes sense.  She has been a lot more comfortable since her collaring ceremony.  Our shared public experience in the hospital must have galvanized our status.  While we are both subs, her place on the hierarchy surpasses mine.  I smile.  B is very interesting and has been a good friend.

"fur sissy, have you been doing okay?"
"Yes, Miss B, why do you ask?"
"Mistress Theresa said she was a little bit worried.  That some things might have happened that could have upset you."

I press on with my thoughts.  There's no reason to hold back with her.
"Miss B, a few weeks ago I got a little confused."
"Confused?"
"Mistress went out for a few days... all day.  The second day she was late returning,  I was worried and I called everyone to see if they had heard from her.  Miss Dominique came by to keep me company while I waited.  Mistress returned very late.  The next day she talked to me and told me I shouldn't be over-protective and that she couldn't have fun if she felt guilty for going out."

"I think I understand, fur sissy.  You felt lonely and worried, but then you felt guilty for worrying?"
"Yes, Miss B.  It's pretty much like that but very confusing.  I don't know how I'm supposed to feel in those cases."

She extends both of her hands and pets my earmuffs.  She slowly slides her hands onto my cheeks.  Her eyes mirror mine.  She leans forward and presses her forehead against mine.  I close my eyes.  She whispers to me.
"Be strong and follow your heart."

B relaxes and reads.  She permits me to curl up on my doggie bed.  I am worn out.  A few hours later the group returns from the club.  Most of them are pretty drunk.  They are all lively and loud.  I serve them champagne.  I overhear bits and pieces as the voices overlap in the room.

"Oh my God, did you see that cute little boy who was trembling when he approached our table?"
"Dom totally scared him off.  I can't believe she grabbed his crotch and said, 'do you think you have the balls to serve us all?'"
"That's so like Dom.  I thought he was going to piss himself."
"Lisa, you're such a chick magnet.  You don't have to be shy about it, they were all flocking to you."
"Can you believe that bald guy came and begged to be whipped?"
"Then Dom hit him once with the whip and he was crying his safe word."

I steal a glance of Mistress.  Her cheeks are flushed from booze but her face is happy and warm.  I smile.  Mistress, I love you.

"Woo, break out the strap-ons, what do you say we go train style on fur sissy?"

I jolt and my eyes open wide.  My body trembles.   I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Don't worry, they're just messing with you.  We made a game of the best way to scare you on the way home."

I sigh in relief.  After a short while the noise dies down.  Lisa is so tanked she can barely keep her head up.

"Looks like it's time to get going, everyone.  Thank you all for coming tonight.  This was an amazing welcome party.  We should almost make this a regular thing."

The pack slowly moves to the front door.  The limo will drop them all off at home.  I thank each one of them individually for attending.  B gives me a hug.

Mistress and Tristan stay behind.  I see them leaned against the wall.  Tristan's legs straddle Mistress's thigh.  Their faces are close.

"pet, please sleep in the cage downstairs tonight.  You don't have to lock it.  Tristan and I have some catching up to you."

I nod.  My heart twitches.  I retreat to the basement dungeon and crawl into the cage with a small pillow and a blanket.  I feel uneasy.  Is this jealousy?  Or something else?

I toss and turn for what feels like hours.  Finally my eyes grow heavy and I doze off.

END ACT

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Burying the Alpha: A Team Effort

A recent post over at Femdom101 brought up a very interesting topic on dealing with the situation where a man lets their alpha persona surface.  It spawned some very good discussions.

This is an interesting topic since it really touches both sides of the equation.  I take it as inevitable that a man will occasionally bring his alpha persona into a D/s environment.  The frequency of this may vary greatly on a relationship by relationship basis, but I think it's safe to say that it has happened at least once to everyone.  In those relationships they may have found ways to prevent it from happening or it may be an ongoing problem.

Who does the responsibility fall on to prevent the alpha showing up?  I think it falls on both parties.

Unfortunately, as with many things, the bulk of this probably falls on the Domme.  I think that maintaining a D/s environment is critical for helping to keep the alpha persona in check.  Many ideas were shared to help this, most of which were preventative.

Some of the common ideas for preventing:
-Having the sub get naked upon returning home from work.
-Choosing the sub's clothing to wear on a daily basis.
-Injecting some feminine items, such as panties to keep him reminded all day.
-Using a pet name to address the sub.
-A collaring ritual upon their returning home from work.
-Corner time as an attitude adjustment if traces of the alpha are detected.

I agree with all of these ideas.  I think that anything involving rules or rituals that a sub must constantly be aware of and adhere to will always try to reinforce subspace and a submissive mindset.  Addressing with titles, body rituals, eye contact or speech rules, and the like can go a long ways in this.

Not a lot was discussed in regards to nipping things mid-alpha or even post-violation but I will assume that Dommes each have their own ways of dealing with these things.

Instigating corner time was a method brought up for stopping an alpha moment while it is happening and preventing further damage from it.

From the submissive point of view, there were a handful of things talked about in regards to their role in this.  A few subs felt it falls on the Domme to keep this in line.  A few others subs (myself included) felt we should be proactive in our attempts to rid ourselves of this nasty habit.

One sub in particular along with myself admitted that after having an alpha moment we are left with a huge amount of guilt over it that can stew on for weeks, feeling like it is a weakness and hoping to rid ourselves of it.

I deem having an alpha persona as necessary in order to deal with the rest of the world and in cases where the woman I love may be threatened in some way.  However, this is something I feel I should bury when in her presence.  It doesn't always work, but I have managed to decrease its frequency over the years.

One thing that works for me is when I get home after a hard day... everyone has these days.  Work sucks, traffic sucks, the weather sucks, tired, irritated, etc.  When I would reach the front door I would have a physical gesture that I would perform to show that I was "putting on my true face."  Around her, I don't need to keep up defenses and subdue vulnerability... around her I am supposed to be vulnerable and freely show her my love.  This gesture is a reminder for me to leave the baggage of the day at the door and remember that I am happiest when I am with her and able to be my true submissive self.  This was a preventative measure.

There are times when I could sense my alpha creeping in and ready to appear... or even having it already appear during interactions with her.  There is a certain feeling in my chest that feels like an intense spiking impulse.  I started to refer to this feeling as a "twitch of ferocity."  It manifests itself when I feel a perceived "threat" and it's a first line of defense.  It is almost impossible for me to sense this until after I have made a display of defiance or disobedience.  If I let it have free reign it would likely lead to a verbal altercation.  My method for dealing with this "twitch" was that immediately upon noticing it I would press my hands against my face and turn away.  I would lean over and breathe 1-3 times.  This gesture would help trigger a mild subspace and symbolize that I didn't want to be showing her that face as well as my shame for doing so.  I would often break off mid-sentence to do this.  After a few times, she knew what I was doing and didn't question it.

In its aftermath I would request some corner time and would find myself naked and kneeling in the corner, hands behind my head and crying out of frustration that I had failed her as a sub and failed myself as well.

As a concluding point, I think it falls upon both parties to keep this in check as best as possible.  The Domme's quantity and strictness of rules/protocols/rituals plays a large part in it.  This doesn't get the sub off the hook.  I also believe that a sub who wants to be the best submissive that they can be should naturally be searching for ways to suppress their inner alpha when it is not needed, learning how it feels and works within them, and doing the best they can to help the Domme keep it at bay, or ideally, never surfacing at all.

Any thoughts?