« April 2009 | Main | June 2009 »
I've been writing a great deal the past two months. Postings here may have slowed down slightly, but my writing in general has exploded. I was inspired to begin writing an erotic and extremely kinky novel, as of today it's up to 55,515 words.
I plan on having it completed this summer, and I hope that all of you who enjoy reading my scribbling here really enjoy my more serious effort.
Chapter 6
I am naked and shivering with fear as she binds me on to the prayer bench that will hold me in a hands and knees position, my ass up in the air for the discipline that is to come. I can't help but notice that she is binding me extremely tightly, and in a great many places, obviously to preclude any chance of escape or even too much movement. I understand that she is doing this because the discipline will be severe.
Her binding done, a large ball gag is inserted between my teeth, and a gas mask is placed over my head. I am disciplined like this generally once per week, we both feel that it's important for me to be disciplined as it serves as a concrete reminder of who is in charge. Likewise we feel that these discipline sessions are important for her, important because harsh abuse of my body in such a cold and clinical ways brings her power over me to the forefront of her mind.
I must admit though that despite my raging fear of the discipline ahead, I always do enjoy the binding process, for she does it in the nude. Generally wearing nothing but a pair of stiletto heels or thigh high boots. She says that she does this so that I can remember exactly who and what I am being beaten by. By her, by a woman. That I am a man so dominated that I accept all the abuse she can deliver. That I must submit to her, that I must submit to any and all other women she chooses.
All her preparations complete, my beatings begin.
She possesses so many instruments, I seem never able to tell which she is using at any given time, but I do know that my brutalized ass will experience many of them in each of these discipline sessions. Leather belts, rattan canes, floggers, wooden paddles, metal paddles, and leather straps. I'm sure that I forget many of the beating implements she possesses and uses, but what does it matter? Pain is her goal and pain she shall create. Gagged and hooded I'll remain so that she does not hear or see the full extent of my suffering ensuring that she will not begin feeling sorry for me, ensuring that I understand my cries will be in vain due to their muffled nature.
How many strikes I do not know, lighter at first, then building in intensity. Beating me until she tires, beating me until she decides to take a break, beating me until she decides that I've had enough for the moment.
She places her head near mine, speaks to me, her words muffled by the mask yet still clear to me. "Suffer you little bitch, suffer for me. I hope it hurts, I hope you understand just how much more I could make it hurt. You are my pathetic little bitch, a little faggot for me to control, to hurt, to punish."
She runs her fingers back and forth over my ass, then stands up to begin again. A new implement, different pain, yet pain all the same. Again I must endure until she decides to break, until she decides that it has been enough.
"Oh how I laugh at you. A joke of a man. Crawling around, getting beaten by a selfish bitch who runs off and cums with any man who turns her head. You are lucky I love having you serve me so, or I'd send you off where surely you would be lost without someone to control ever aspect of your life." She says to me.
Again my beaten ass is massaged. "Your getting warmed up now, a nice shade of pink. It's going to be bright red when I'm done, black and blue tomorrow. I hope the marks I leave on your ass last a week!" She says before beginning my beating once again.
Is it a strap, a flogger, a belt? I can't know, my mind is lost, lost in the sensation she is delivering, lost in the pain she demands I process. After what certainly seems an eternity she stops again.
"Such a poor little baby, your ass is on fire! I imagine you are crying under that mask, I imagine you are hopeful that I'll feel sorry for you. Ha! You need to understand that I just don't give a shit. I don't care how badly it hurts; I don't care how much you suffer. All I care about is beating you and I'm going to beat you until I decide that I've had enough fun. Suffer little man, suffer for the bitch who owns you." She says.
A paddle, a huge wooden paddle. I'm almost certain of it as it collides with my ever more tender ass. How can I be sure though, so many sensations, so much pain flooding my mind, how can I be sure of anything other than the pain, other than the torture at her delicate hands.
"You are bruising nicely under your very red skin. I can see just where the bruises are going to develop tomorrow. I own your ass you little bitch. I own you. Look at the bruises I leave tomorrow, look at them the next day. Look, and remember who owns you, remember what an insignificant little thing you are compared to me."
I feel her begin again, beyond thought, beyond care, all I can know is the pain she is delivering, the brutality she is using upon my body. What is she using, I can't know, I can't care, how long will she use it, I can't know, I can't care, pain is my world, my only thought.
"I own you. You are nothing but property. Can you imagine what that means? You are nothing but a thing, a thing that exists to serve me. No different from my favorite chair. I use you to provide me comfort and pleasure just as I use my chair. I can abuse you as I desire, just like my chair. If you stop pleasing me, providing me all the comfort I desire, I can kick your ass to the curb, throw you away, and replace you, just like I can do with my chair. You had better work hard to please me, work hard to make sure that nothing and no one better comes along because if someone else could ever do better you will be thrown away, just as I'd do with an old chair. Remember your place, remember my place boy." She says to me.
She begins again, lighter this time, continuing with light strokes until my mind begins to function again, until I am able to think again, until the pain she creates no longer fills every crevice of my mind.
"Ten more bitch. Get ready for them. The most vicious I can deliver." She says and before my anticipation and fear can begin to grow she delivers them in quick succession, and explosion of pain blasting out all possible thought or feeling from my mind or soul.
Thus ends the first phase of my discipline. She begins to stroke my body, my brutalized ass, to add her body to the bonds holding me in place. To envelop me in her love and her warmth. I am grateful beyond belief, loving of her beyond imagination. We remain like this for quite some time, her aftercare a form of afterglow much as boring vanilla people might experience following intercourse.
"I must say that to put up with all of this, to suffer so much you must be a very stupid little man. It's not your fault though, for surely all men are stupid. They can only think with their worthless little cocks, and once a woman knows how to control the cock she can control the man." She said.
Alas, the years do seem to go by, even for a dominatrix. Next month I'll be celebrating another birthday.
I do find though that life just keeps on getting better and better. I certainly wouldn't want to be 21 again, life is just so much more fun, exciting, and interesting now. Indeed each year brings new interests, new explorations.
Each year around this time I usually get a question or two about possible gifts. For that reason I'm posting my wish list today.
I will admit to having always been a bit uncomfortable with such wish lists which is why I don't maintain one on my website as many women do. I'm certainly not somehow owed gifts, nor do I ever want anyone to feel that I am. Requests do come though, so I'm posting here. If you would like to purchase an item but don't know about shipping, just email me at blog@milliscent.com for the details.
All Round Zip Hood from Mr. S Leather
Njoy Pure Plug, size medium
Absinthe. You choose brand, origin, and style
Anything at all from the wonderful Airstream Store. Airstreams and Flamingos are both amazingly cool.
Wanderlust, Airstream at 75
Campfire In A Can, The Gas Can
Pretty lingerie for me to wear on my birthday night itself. Black and pink would be fun colors, something offering very easy access for me to wear for the man who will be granted such access to my good parts, something matching, but without easy access for me to wear for hubby who will not be granted access to my good parts. It should be a wonderful night denying one and pleasuring the other, especially as the boys will be listening to each other. You choose the shop and the style with the intended use mentioned above in mind.
Extra Credit for that truly amazing gift giver:
5th Avenue On Wheels by Wally Byam.
This book would likely have to be found through a good rare book dealer.
"Run into the bathroom, strip, and get a condom on that little thing you call a dick. When you're done get my strap-on out of the playroom, the nice big purple one, then meet me back here." She said to her slave.
He quickly returned to her, his nakedness showing his completely shaved and pale body in it's worst light. "You look like a slug, a worm. Hairless and soft, pale as a ghost, certainly not my idea of a man. Not only that but it seems like every time you are clothed I forget just how stupid your little dickie actually looks. I can't fathom any woman ever wanting to have that thing inside her body, just touching it must be repulsive."
"Kneel at my feet and strap my dildo around my hips. Look at it closely while you do, for it is how a cock is supposed to be. Long, thick, and hard. Built to satisfy a woman. It seems that nature paid a very cruel joke on you when she was doling out the equipment." She said with a chuckle as he quickly complied.
When he had the straps firmly fastened around her body she took a small step back from him and without warning slapped his face. Twice. Hard. "That's for being so pathetic, for disgusting me."
She turned her back from him and spread her legs widely. "Sniff my ass while you wank that thing for me slave. I don't imagine it'll take you long, last I looked you were the very definition of the term 'premature ejaculator.' While you wank it I want you to think about just how lucky you are. I actually allow you to cum. I'm sure that many women on getting a glance at that thing would just lock it away, perhaps feeling less revulsion knowing that it was forever hidden behind hard steel. I did dream about it, dream about you last night slave. I dreamed that you were all bound down and I took the opportunity to castrate you. In my dream I did away with the messes that spurt out of it once and for all. You should know that I thought it was a very good dream, and I was touching myself when I woke up, touching myself while thinking of taking a very sharp knife to what you call your manhood."
Hearing her and having his nose positioned at her ass was more than enough to ensure that he would cum quickly and powerfully. She turned back towards him when she heard him do so. "Take the condom off your little stick and put it on my strap-on. Backwards. Then suck your disgusting slime off my cock. Take it deep into your throat for me like a good little bitch. When you're done I'll bend you over the table and teach you exactly how normal people with real cocks fuck. I imagine you'll be walking funny for a few days when I'm done with you."
I hope that all of you are having a splendid Memorial Day weekend, especially those veterans and families of veterans who gave their all so that we might be free.
As for me, I must say that it has been a perfect weekend. I've gotten to play a great deal, and when not playing relax in the sun. Thong bikinis are just so very much fun!
My little slice of the mountains is beautiful this time of year, I hope that you get to come and see it soon, for I know that we would have a most wonderful time together.
Are you having difficulty receiving email from me or anyone else? Think you just might be? Want to ensure that you always get the email you want?
This link will tell you how:
How To Whitelist A Sender
For those who write me, please remember that email is not a flawless tool. It is reliable, but not perfectly so.
I always answer my email, so if you send me something and don't hear back from me within 24 hours, please do send it again as it may have been somehow lost in transit. You may also of course call if you have my number.
I'm posting this because apparently emails between myself and traci are not getting through. Thank you traci for letting me know via the comments form, and yes indeed we are still on. Please try to email me again; I look forward to seeing you soon!
Living conditions are improving here in the Cascade Mountains, and indeed as I travel around Washington this summer.
Here at the house the change is going to be quite dramatic indeed. I'm adding on to my little cedar house in the woods. A beautiful new bathroom, green marble, knotty hickory & pine, bronze. It will be spectacular when it's done I think. Along with the new bath comes a new entryway for bad weather, and more closet space something always at a premium in an A-Frame house. A new laundry room and a deck around the new spaces will round everything out.
Change is coming to the Airstream as well with a good deal of work having just been completed on the electrical, gas, and mechanical systems. It will still look exactly the same, but the components of today should work much easier than the components of 35 years ago.
Lastly, my poor long-suffering hot tub seems to be having some issues with its controls. Hopefully it will be repairable, but if not I must say that it has lasted more years than could ever be expected. Truly amazing quality.
It's been a busy spring watching the projects take shape, but improvement of ourselves and our surroundings is always wonderful.
We are very fortunate to live in the Puget Sound region, a place populated by people who are generally accepting of diversity, sexual and otherwise.
There are however of course exceptions. Bashing of sexual minorities and other crimes motivated by hate of otherness do occur. In some parts of our country it is much worse.
A national group with chapters in Seattle and Tacoma has an answer to the problem of bashing:
Cease Fear, Seattle
Pink Pistols Tacoma
Many will likely disagree with me, but I believe that the group's advocacy of self-defense is a key component of the quest to end the bashing of sexual and gender minorities once and for all.
In our great state of Washington all law-abiding adults have an absolute right guaranteed by law to possess firearms for self-defense. Additionally, all law abiding citizens of Washington have a right guaranteed by law to carry a pistol for self defense after acquiring the appropriate permit from local law enforcement. There is no discretion over the issuance of such permits, they will be granted in all cases in which one qualifies by being free of criminal conviction or serious mental health issues.
There are no doubt places in which it could be extremely dangerous for a transgendered individual to walk down that proverbial dark alley. Sometimes though that walk cannot be avoided. Does it not make sense to give oneself proper means of self-defense before doing so?
It is truly a beautiful day. If you aren't on the river under snow-capped peaks with me today, I must say that you are indeed missing out!