Once in a Blue Moon there are meetings or events that have the same effect as emerging from a Star Wars movie, at least for me, that being a feeling of *one* with the universe, fully connected with/between all the dots to that energy force that controls the universe. There is no better time than this to hop into your zoom zoom car because your driving like a Jedi knight in the slip stream. i love driving 110 -120 mph. i like the way the scenery passes at that speed, the sound of the motor in my car and the way the car hugs down to the road.

I’m driving on this night, in this frame of mind to a dungeon i have not been to before. i am meeting a Master i have seen once and his slave Amanda.

Let’s review Amanda in our fantasies. She is taller than me by a good 8 inches and a bigger boned woman. She is maybe 21. We know she is over 18. She has to be 21 to be admitted into the Dungeon.
I’m not the Master, i’m the submissive. i have a tip rule: the Master may not be right but the Master is *never* wrong.

What i like most about Amanda is that the first night i met her at a play party we were excused to the restroom. Amanda was complaining about her nipple piercings and how uncomfortable they were in her corset. So i ask if she has any other piercings. Her lips and head are pierced and she immediately lifts her skirt to show me. She is stretching the lips with weighted rings.

One has to admire a girl that lifts her skirt so easily and whose lips taste moist and sweet.
And i’m almost to the Dungeon.

i feel ecstatic, lusty and powerful.

One aspect i like about me, the partygirl, is that while i may be totally heartbroken over my loss of a partner, i can shelve it and go have fun.

and fun torture is awaiting…..

THE DUNGEON – chapter 2

It isn’t as if i’ve been to all that many Dungeons. This one is just smaller than the ones i’ve been too. It is a private Dungeon for a professional Domme that has been opened for a public playparty. The play furniture pieces are crammed too close together, in my opinion. It may be wonderful if it is only one Domme working and no one is watching a scene. Tonight there are many Doms, FemmeDommes and submissives. The groups of people watching scenes overflow into the pieces of furniture and whole crowds would have to be moved if a Dom wanted space for a whip. The mirrors aren’t set for the submissive to see the entire room like the Dungeon i have been more frequently too.

okay, i’m a logistic freak.

The terrific upside to this Dungeon is that there is a private medical room, a school class room and there are some furniture pieces here that i’ve never seen before. Like the wood wheel i was strapped into at the end of the night and turned upside down so i could lick Amanda while she stood in front of me and licked me. and i’m getting ahead of myself…


i like the look and smell of leather on men. TheBrit looks good tonight. He is wearing black riding boots, leather pants, and a leather vest over a silk shirt on his 6’2″ frame. He has gel in his business cut hair. The aromic smell about him is quite different from anything i’ve been close too and i am thankful for that. He is bursting with pride, just spilling out all over, to be here at the Dungeon with amanda and i. Rather sweet too see, a welcome quality i have missed as of lately in a Dom. TheBrit is witty and funny and it is hard not to giggle or outright laugh. That is a double edged sword He uses to His advantage.

Of all the fun torture available, i love being flogged with leather floggers. i like the feel of the leather and the smell. Bless this Dom as He gently caress’s my face with His soft leather flogger. It is one of my favorite’s, a flogger with long soft strips of leather. i admire excellent craftsmanship. Of course, one compares the soft leather flogger to the rough leather flogger…

…especially as it makes keen marks on my thighs as i’m bent over an “A” frame horse with amanda next to me. This flogging is raising some blood to the top of my skin which will scab. Thank You, Sir.

TheBrit also has a collection of canes. So at the end of this session my butt and upper thighs are striped like a zebra. TheBrit is quite the sadist and strikes true and fast and hard. Thank You, Sir. know me, is to know i’m pretty happy now………..

and the night is about to get so much more interesting and fascinating than i could imagine, and i can imagine a lot…

To our delight TheBrit has spotted Marilyn Monroe in latex across the room and directs Amanda and i too say hello. Off we scamper to Marilyn. Marilyn is wearing a latex bra with the nipples cut out and a short latex skirt with a garter belt underneath and stockings and boots.

MARILYN – chapter 3

Picture Marilyn, the short soft cropped ultra blonde hair, the eyes outlined in liquid black liner, the full reddest red lips, the delicate throat, the rounded shoulders, those full 36c breasts wrapped in black latex showing her nipples which hardened as you approached, the hour glass and legs in laced up boots with stiletto heels.

It is really hard to obey one’s Master and say hello to this, …He asks so much of me. Thank You, Sir. Bless You, Sir. may i just kiss the ground You walk on, Sir?

Marilyn’s friend is a Brit too. She isn’t a slave and speaks freely. !The Brit (they’re just popping up every where i turn these days) is a Master. Oh, imagine that…

THE MEDICAL ROOM – chapter 4

There is much formality in interactions between Doms. As a submissive it behooves me, perhaps a Dom would tell me it is my job – even, to expertly/smoothly stroke the egos of the Dom i am serving and the Dom with Marilyn because this is the only way i *might* get more of what i want out of this evening. Only through Them, through looking over at Them and serving Them, looking to see and do everything i can so that They are pleased and satisfied is there any hope of the Dom i am serving being pleased enough to look at me and grant my pleasure. And i can only speak to TheBrit directly and mostly, only when He speaks to me or perhaps asks me a question.

At this time, i would note that i surely know: i have been firmly told by the Masters i have served that i am not to be with them for my pleasure. i am not supposed to care about me, my gratification, my lust, my desire, my sexual needs, my wanting my fantasies to be reality, my wishing them to behave in a specific way so that i am pleased and happy, and most importantly ~ i am not supposed to care whether i cum or not. It is about the Master i am serving. The Master i have humbly asked if i may serve and He granted me this great honor of being in His service. That means i am *not* to be there to receive pain and torture in a way that pleases, gratifies, makes floods flow between my legs, is such ecstasy that i so easy, completely, thoroughly to the core of my being cum violently hard as if the finest wild stallions are stampeding through my body ~ for me. It is only for the pleasure of my Master that this might ever happen. And it is for His pleasure that He might deny this pleasure.

(Chew on that for a lifetime. i certainly have.)

Now where was i……

amanda and i excuse ourselves politely and scamper back to TheBrit #1. and excitedly sputter (so fast and furious that we are told to “Slow Down. One at a time.”) that Marilyn is a friend of a Brit Master {also} and they seem very friendly.
TheBrit instructs us to ask The Brit #2, if He wishes to speak with Him regarding mutually favorable activities.

How fast can i fly across this room? Pretty damn fast. So can amanda. Bless her.
and we are walking a might slow pace back to TheBrit (okay, so it *is* a correct pace for navigating the room with crowded furniture and playing Doms with whips/flogger/crops flying). However, i’m trying not to publicly have my natural body reaction and let drool start running down my chin over Marilyn.

There is a conversation between TheBrit and The Brit #2. It includes where they are from in England, pubs and fetish clubs. i’m distracted during this and i couldn’t tell you if i had to in order to touch Marilyn specifics discussed by the Dommes. Fortunately for me, TheBrit is too caught up in His conversation to notice. And we are moving to The Medical Room.
Zing. Back with, focused 100% on TheBrit. Got His Bag of Toys. Go.

In the Medical Room which is the size of a small bedroom or a larger doctor examination room, there are two tables. One is flat like a raised bed and one is the modern female examination table with stirrups. There are two small end tables. The room is brightly lit.
i ask to place amanda’s and my pom-poms in a cubby in an end table.

Flash: yeah, i know. Pom-poms. That’s what i wrote. Yes, we are wearing *little* (picture the Dallas cheerleader outfit sans the cowboy hat) cheerleader outfits. TheBrit wanted us dressed this way. The back of amanda’s top has “Slut #1” on it. Mine says “Slut #2”. To this day i refuse to think about what i think of this. It is for TheBrit and He is as pleased as a well fed Fat Cat. That is all that matters. and yes, earlier He instructed me do a cheer in the Big Room from my high school days of being a cheerleader for His pleasure. and yes, i obeyed and performed with enthusiasm.

TheBrit asks Marilyn if she’s ever had a foot massage. He tells her i’m quite excellent and he’s had me give him and his wife a massage, that he would keep me if only for this service ~ it is that good.

i am instructed to remove Marilyn’s boot while she sits on the female exam table and give her feet a massage. “Yes, Sir.”

i did not count the lace bolts as i undid them. i loosened the foot laces and removed the boot. Every nerve ending to Marilyn’s body is about to be in my hands at the bottom of her feet. i leave her stockings on and proceed to work her left foot.

Marilyn is asking about amanda, who is showing off her piercings. Marilyn has none. i am focusing in on Marilyn’s feet and letting the conversation happen around me when i catch that TheBrit states amanda has not cum in years.

Be silent.

The Brit #2 says he does hypnosis and can fix this. He asks if i have the same problem. TheBrit laughs and says no. The Brit #2 offers to make it so that we cum on !TheBrit’s command. TheBrit replies he will pass on this offer. Marilyn can cum on demand for The Brit #2.

Be silent. Be good. No wise ass remarks. i am working Marilyn’s other foot.

As i finish TheBrit instructs me to suck on Marilyn’s breast and show her how much i enjoyed the privilege of massaging her feet. “As You wish, Sir.”

This is the first time i’ve had a breast covered in latex except for the nipple in my mouth. The latex is very odd feeling being thick rubber. i want Marilyn to have a good time, i want her to make noise, as i suck her breast and take my tongue across her nipple. Licking, flicking, sucking, i am only here.

Floggers are appearing in the corner of my eye and amanda comes in and begins to finger Marilyn’s pussy. The leather begins to pound a rhythm that flows through all three of us.

THE LOOK OF JOY – chapter 5

The look on Marilyn’s face is exquisite, the pleasure overflowing bringing a glow to her expression. The three of us are intertwined, kissing, sucking, fingering. As i look over to Amanda, small beads of water are forming at her hair line. She is so young, so pretty. My lungs are full and my breathe is heavy as my senses are filled with the aroma of hot passionate sex.

Suddenly, i notice the flogging on my back has stopped. TheBrit steps up to my left side to be gratified. As i step back from the ladies, i leave room for TheBrit to step in closer. My attention is focused on TheBrit, to serve Him. Bending down slightly, my mouth grabs his right nipple as the index finger and thumb of my right hand lightly grasp the skin just under the hood and stroke his penis. As i strongly suck his breast and stroke Him, i bless my former Master for having taught me this skill.

TheBrit cums. “Again.” i am surprised but i obey. He is admiring Amanda, his fingers combing her. TheBrit cums twice in a very short time which makes his face burst with joy.

As i look at Him, i am extremely proud of myself for having done a job well. i am happy and satisfied. Yes, down right pleased with myself that He is so filled with joy. There aren’t many moments that i feel this way when i haven’t cum. Perhaps, i might just make a good slave despite myself.

That thought makes me smile.

The Brit #2 is cooing over Marilyn while taking his hands around her face, through her hair, gliding them down her neck and shoulders. He asks if she enjoyed herself. Yes, Marilyn enjoyed herself quite fully. She places the side of her head on His chest and closes her eyes. Her cheeks are puffed out slightly because she is smiling with her mouth drawn closed and the corners of her mouth are turned up pushing her cheek muscles out. There is a film of tiny beads of sweat over her face. The face of bliss when even her closed eye lids seem to smile.


That means you can bend yourself into a pretzel to please your Master and then He may give you a reward He wants to give you. Something He thinks is just perfect for your training. Something He has thought of in that devious twisted perverted mind. You may not wish to receive this reward, or you surely don’t think you do at the time. And you must thank your Master for giving you this reward you think basically, well, sucks.

Think of all the practice you had growing up thanking Aunt Hilda for socks at Christmas.

Some days you seem to have lucky horse shoes in all orifices, you think you’ve died and gone to heaven because you love your reward so much. Never take these rewards for granted or assume all rewards will be like that.

Mostly, it has been my experience that in the long run, in the grand overview of the scheme of things, my Masters have given appropriate rewards for my service and are absolutely in accord with my training by them.

Of course, things get tainted by their wickedly evil humor and TheBrit was no exception on this night.

“Sir, would you like me to bring you water?”

“Water is a brilliant idea. Let’s get dressed and you may bring me water in the main room. And you may feed me my cookies.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Amanda and i hurry with our clothes, which are few. There are thought bubbles flying through my head like “Swell, feed Him cookies. Really.” that i keep to myself. In very little time amanda and i are dressed and we scurry off to get water for TheBrit and us.

amanda seems withdrawn and nervous to me. i make polite conversation with her, feeling out how she is, seeing if she wishes to say something, wanting to comfort her if she needs that. On the topic of cookies the brightness in her face returns as she recounts that TheBrit ate too many cookies the last time she and Him were here and didn’t feel well by the end of the night. We chuckle and smile. i wipe the bottled drinking water with a paper towel to dry it for Him and select two oatmeal-raisin cookies which i hold in napkins.

Amanda and i find TheBrit in the main room which seems even more crowded to me. The level of sounds has increased also, not only the volume of screams but the hum of conversation from the hallway and foyer spills into the main room. TheBrit is watching the three scenes in the main room. His face is joyful and happy. Amanda cheerfully plops herself on the floor to His right and i take my place on His left. i take the top off of the bottled drinking water and hand it to TheBrit. As we exchange smiles i notice how happy i am also. It has been a long time since i have felt this way with the Master i am serving in a Dungeon.

“Thank you. That was absolutely delightful wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir, it was.”

i find it pleasant to sit and watch the activities and feed Him a cookie. Simple yet satisfying. Much more delightful than any of my thought bubbles.

“Let’s go into the back room, shall we?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The back room at this Dungeon is as big as the front room. There is a large platform stage at the rear of this room with a cage and a cross. A Master is scening on the platform with His submissive. i don’t find her attractive at all. And it amuses me that because of this, i’m not interested in watching the scene attentively. Currently, she is over His lap getting a fine spanking with a large flat paddle. There is a large group of people watching Him. He is focused on His submissive.

TheBrit turns around to the left back corner. There is a giant wooden wheel here with bars and straps to secure a body on it and steps up to the platform the wheel is attached to. It looks to me like prop taken from a medieval torture movie.
“Have you ever been on one of these, dear?”

There is a wicked smile on TheBrit’s face that explicitly spells danger to me.

“No, Sir, i have not.”

“Well, then, up you go.”

sigh Captain Kirk may go where no man has gone before in space, and i am quite sure that stepping up on this wheel has similar body reactions. Well, if one were to travel into uncharted space. i find myself nervous, thrilled, excited, afraid, elated by the possibilities and hoping i won’t throw up all at the same time. i am quite secure on this wheel as TheBrit turns it upside down. That wicked smile is still in place and it does not comfort me.

It is odd to have such a confusion of feelings run through you at one time. Part of me wants to start screaming, one part wants to start complaining venomously, one part is absolutely fascinated by the entire newness of the experience, one part just can’t believe this is happening to me. There is an overwhelming of diverse reactions that fills me, as if i could simply choose any one of these to vocalize. i am silent and observant of my own experience mentally and physically, taking it all in.

To my delight what TheBrit wishes to watch is amanda fingering me to a climax while i lick her. a giant wave of relief flows over me as my world closes down to being with amanda, nothing else, while we give each other pleasure. Being upside down heightens my body sensations as everything regarding my body is disoriented. This disorientation keeps my mind in the present and the overload of body sensations does not let my thoughts wonder to any fantasies. The folds of flesh between her legs are soft and moist when i begin to lick her. These folds fill and swell and become much wetter. Then my concentration on amanda is disrupted my the sensations of my own pleasure.

As wonderful a reward as this experience is, TheBrit has more to offer us. Once i am released from the wheel and clear headed we follow Him to the classroom.

“Stand shoulder to shoulder and hold out your arms, palms up.”

“Yes, Sir.”

amanda and i quickly obey, but there is a dread and a fear that is creeping over me. i am fidgeting which is something i have not noticed about myself very often. TheBrit takes a ruler from His bag. i flinch as he taps the ruler on His left palm.

The first pass over our palms from right to left with the ruler is a light sting. The second pass sends a lightening bolt of pain up my arm as i suddenly hear myself screaming in pain and have withdrawn my hand.

“Put it back out.”

TheBrit’s voice is firm and demanding. The words seems to echo in my head loudly.
my hand is throbbing in pain from my left hand ring finger and pinkie finger to the middle of my left palm. i have it curled up and am holding it closely to my chest.

“It hurts.”

“Put it back now or i will truly let you know what pain is.”

i thrust my arm out and offer my left palm back to TheBrit.

He smacks the right palm with a heavy stoke but it does not have the same degree of shear pain the left hand is experiencing.

and we say good bye.

As Amanda and I walk to the car she talks about how it is strange for her to share His attention. She has been with Him for four months. Amanda shares how she feels attached to Him and is fond of Him. He means a great deal to her as she expresses the feelings she has been swirling inside her for the past hours. i assure her that she will lots of time alone with TheBrit and everything will be just fine.

We kiss each other goodbye.

i am not able to hold or pick up anything in my left hand the next day. Nor the day after that. On the third day there is pain but i hold my coffee cup. my left hand ring finger and left palm will have bursts of pain for an additional ten days. Each time this happens, i think of TheBrit and remember that night.

Thank You, Sir.


To know me and see my body and how i carry myself, you would observe that i have great posture. This is because my Grandmother insisted that ladies have correct posture.

i had to walk with a book on my head for 20 feet daily while growing up. If i was sitting and she observed my shoulders were rounded, they would be grabbed and thrust back. If it happened twice in one day a harness was worn for a week that made my shoulders go back. While i sat at the dinner table, if i was not Emily Post i was excused from the table. period.

(realizes i just gave Doms reading this one great exercise/scene idea….) well, anyway….

Three Masters have never had reason to punish me for bad posture. The Nazi General and TheBrit (only the night which was the last time i saw him) did have reason to punish me.

WHEN IT GOES TO BAD – chapter 8

TheBrit is leaning into me, as He whispers in my ear…

“I don’t recall releasing you, you ungrateful bitch.”

my eyes blink open. i can feel them open wide. There is a dread and horror that follows these words and sinks into my chest. i am suddenly aware that my heart is starting to pound and i stop breathing. TheBrit pulls Himself away and steps back.

“Put your elbows back!”

Breathe. Remember to breathe.

i am naked and leaning on a St. Andrew’s Cross. This can be one of my favorite places in the world and one of my favorite situations to be in, but not at this moment.

my legs are spread as wide as possible while still being able to stand. my hands are laced behind my head, my elbows out to the side. i correct them to a perfectly straight 180 degree angle.

“Yes, Sir.”


TheBrit’s crop comes down severely hard on my upper thigh.


As i scream, my elbows move forward slightly. i am with my pain and don’t notice.

“I told you to keep your elbows back!”

i am shocked by both the level that TheBrit is screaming at me and that my elbows have moved. i correct the angle.

“Yes, Sir.”

TheBrit steps up to me, moving His whole body towards me.

“Do you know why you must keep your elbows back?”

“Because You wish it, Sir.”

“Yes, and why do I demand it?”

“Because You do, because it is correct posture, Sir.”

“Yes, it is correct posture. Why?”

“i don’t know, Sir. i seem to have forgotten my Emily Post handbook to BDSM behavior in my other jacket, Sir.”

“Because when your elbows are back, you body is open to Me, your pretty little pussy is thrust forward. When your elbows are forward, even slightly, you pull your pussy back and protect it with your hip bone. you do not offer yourself to Me.”

i hang my head and close my eyes. The invisible weight on my chest keeps my breathing shallow. i can feel the tears in the outer corners of my eyes and i fight to keep them from falling.

“Oh. i see, Sir.”

“Now, I have to punish you because I already told you to keep your elbows back and because you are disrespectful.”

TheBrit turns and walks to His Bag of Evil Toys and returns with a thick cane in His hand. He steps up on the platform and lifts my head in His hand so that i am looking Him in the eyes. i do not give him the benefit of fear in my eyes.

“Keep your head up, your eyes open and don’t you make one sound or i’ll really show you what pain is.”

TheBrit steps back, pulls His right arm fully back as if he were about to pitch a baseball. There is a whistle in the air as His arm comes forward striking his mark, He immediately pulls the arm back and strikes with all His force again and again.

Not one sound came from my lips as that cane landed across my very upper thigh and pussy. TheBrit was true in aim all three times. The mark he left with that cane would take three weeks to leave.

There was a deadly silence in the room as my eyes met the eyes of the people watching during the caning. my heart is pounding so hard i think they can see it. Time halted for everyone in that room for many seconds.

Then my eyes closed, my lips broke their position, my shoulders turned and rounded and the sobs fell and i could hear my self cry out loud.

TheBrit rushed into my body.

“Go with pain. Go with the pain.”

For me, there was honor in standing and sobbing. There was nothing but disgust in my heart as i felt TheBrit’s body next to mine.

i gathered my self up inside. i told myself that He could have my body just this one last time. Never again. i could make it through this.

“Turn around. Stretch out your arms above your head and hold onto the rings.”

i could hear Him take those steps to the Bag of Evil Toys, return the cane and lift something.

Again, the room was silent. So deadly silent. All i could see was the cross in front of me. There were no mirrors in this room.

Crack. crack. Crack. CRACK. CRACK!

A whip was cracking around my arms and above my head, then around my sides. i didn’t flinch. and i was not afraid. TheBrit has twenty years or more experience with the whip. i had seen a demonstration of the whip the first night i was with Him. The whip was used to frighten the submissive with the sound. TheBrit had told me so when i asked that night.



The pain that ripped through my back brought my left arm down to soothe it.

“Put it back!”

The words shocked me out of my pain to obeying with their sharpness.



Again my left arm fell to touch and caress the middle of my back.

TheBrit rushed in with His body fully pressed next to mine,

“Go with the pain. Go with the pain.”

Again the disgust of Him on my body stopped my tears and He backed away.

“Turn around. Put your hands behind your head.”

TheBrit was bent over the Bag of Evil Toys when the corner of my right eye caught Him. As He stood up, i saw there was a very large flat wooden paddle in His right hand.

The very first time i met Grace, i had seen her completely collapse her body into a small pile on the floor at the feet of The Nazi General. Grace did it to beg forgiveness because The Nazi General was upset at me, as i was upset by the visual of her, the gifts on her body He had given her. As the scene flashed through my brain, i grabbed it, realizing it was my only hope.

When TheBrit was only a few feet away, i crumbled, completely collapsing at his feet into a small pile. i let the tears fall from my eyes and my arms surrounded His boots and i pulled my body around them and passionately kissed them. There was a small whisper in the room. It was from my lips as i kissed His boots.

“please have mercy. please have mercy, Sir.”

Thank you, Sir. I learned much that night. Never again with You, Sir.