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Bereft

Seeds scattered on the wind that cannot not be gathered
Barren hands, grasping for what was once possessed
The rudderless meanderings of a dispossessed soul.

Poured out, spent. I find no balm for me aching need.
I stand alone with only the echoes of my pain

Silent tears for the fallen dream

not even sure why i'm doing this, not even sure why i'm putting myself through this. joined this site in late july after lurking for some time in the stories section. it actually conincided with the time were i went to my first munch and slosh and such, where i finally took steps towards my own surrender. this forum has been an outlet to my thoughts and dreams.
a while back i came across a post from a Dominant that was looking for a submissive. He sounded like so someone i wanted to get ...

The clamps hurt fiercely, and Karen moaned again, hoping for some mercy. Her moans were simply music to his ears.
She heard, and felt as he turned the vibrator resting on her panties up a speed.
"Keep it balanced my dear, you don't want to lose that"
Karen heard a knock at the door and quickly asked him "What's that?"
He didn't answer, but she could feel him move away, and his footsteps toward the door. She heard the door open, and then heard no ...

I got to meet her today, she's a big sweetheart. we both meet up in the city, at penn station and walked into a borders and used their air con. to talk and get to know each other abit more.... and she's soooooooooo cute!!!!

i was abit late because there was some type of techinal problem on the path trains but she was a doll and understood and didnt hold it against me, which i appericate very much.

we talked about the net, the most of the ppl on the net and our friends ...

once upon a time there was a sub named goldie. she had a wonderful Master who delighted himself in torturning her tits. he would tie them and tickle and suck them... until one day, he dicided to clamp them! "now golidesub," says Master. "i want you to tell me which torture is better." and he proceeded to take out his toybox.

the first torture was clothespins! but alas, they were from the fairgodmother's dollar store, and were not very well made. "these ...

Atrum Visum (dark visions)

Thus I start this experiment. I have never been one to blog. I have, at times, journaled, but that was a private and very personal journey not meant for others to view, critique or share.

This, however, is a public forum. As I foresee it, an opportunity to express my opinions, feelings, fantasies and perhaps some more personal issues in a forum that invites participation by other.

I have no idea where this will go, what direction ...

Okay, I seriously think I'm in love with this site. There's a blog. There's a sex shop. There's forums.

Best of all...

NO ONE knows about this. No one in my real life can come here or find me here.

A place I can call home.

The goal of training a slave girl is to produce a marketable product. A slave girl who will always be submissive and lubricate dependably whenever and wherever her master wishes to use her.

This is a bottom line item. We are talking dollars and cents here. A state of constant arousal is the truest sign of the proper mentality in a female slave.

It is just dawn at my Greek island compound.

We, my staff and of course the slave girls, are buried deep within ...

recently the question was posted to me about what is the difference between being simply kinky and a submissive. my immediate response of course was getting very defensive and i do not think i handled it the right way, by trying to defend my submissiveness like a badge of honor or something. But having had some time to think about it, i'm really pondering this thought.
recently went to a couple of munches and made some observations. I was under the belief that everyone going to organized ...

She listened to the familar stories, one's that had never failed to make her wet in the past. But today, though she listened, she didn't hear the words, she only heard his voice. All she could hear was his voice, all she could feel was the cold of the glass, the glass sweating on her stomach.

"Don't spill my drink my dear, or the consequences will be harsh for you. I've got something that I'm tired of holding, can you hold it for me my dear?"

Without waiting ...