I was watching an old episode of the Tudors recently, when a scene caught my imagination.

On their wedding night, the groom, a despicable man, forcibly bent his bride over a table, ripped her dress up over her hips, kicked her legs open, and raped her from behind as she cried.

How much fun that could be in a proper female dominated marriage though!

The groom bent over, tied down, brutally fucked with a huge dildo. Whimpering with each thrust he is forced to accept. Used until all he can do is cry.

Posted by Milliscent at 3:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

A tinkling of knife against crystal took my attention from the feast I was busy devouring and directed it to the Mistress seated at the tables head, and in who's home we were being entertained. She rose as the table quieted and let us know about the games she had planned.

"You slaves might be interested to know that each of you has been kept in chastity for a similar amount of time by your respective owners." She began.

I glanced at my Mistress and she nodded yes with a faint smile.

"You have no doubt noticed while she was serving you that my sissy maid Tammy has become quite the beautiful little dish. What you might not know is that I've not only trained her to serve perfectly, but I've also trained her to be the perfect submissive sex partner. She is amazingly adept with her mouth and through much work her little sissy cunt has become a remarkably warm and inviting hole." She continued.

"My strap-on is a delightful tool, but I want her to experience a brutal gang rape, and that is where you slaves come in."

I glanced at the maid and saw a deep blush explode across her pretty face.

"You must however, each prove your worth before being allowed to violate my sissy. First, to ensure that you are ready, we are going to load each of you up with Viagra. After that, very slowly, each of you will be filled with a delightfully ice cold enema. The first one of you to scream for release will be granted it, but know that the first to seek release from the waters will also be the looser of the game. Do you all understand?" She asked.

At her glance we each nodded yes.

"Everyone but the looser will be given the opportunity, well, not just the opportunity, required to use my little sissy as a whore. I want her choking on cock, I want her little sissy cunt plowed by cock. Don't misunderstand, I don't want to see any gentleness, I want her violently violated, violently raped. Use your imaginations, loose your compassion. One thing though, know that we will all be watching. Any slave who can't get it up, any slave who can't fill her with cum will be castrated. Make sure your cocks work, do whatever you require to make it happen." She said.

"As for the looser of our little contest, you will have a very special reward. Following the rape you will lick every drop of cum off my sissy's body, eat every drop from inside her body. For now, enjoy your desert, we will get started soon enough." She concluded with a flourishing hand indicating the pie Tammy had set before each of us as the head Mistress talked.

Posted by Milliscent at 11:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (11)

I'm sitting alone. I've been left here, in this small and dark room to contemplate. I am to reflect upon my past and thereby prepare myself for my future. That future will begin later tonight, following the sacred ceremony that is soon to begin.

I'm in an outer chamber to the temple; a portal that all who seek to serve, as I do, must pass through on their journey. Thinking about the momentous step I'm about to take has, I think, distorted my perception of time. I'm not certain if minutes have passed, or hours. All I can truly be certain of is the blank paper and pen on the desk before me. As I reflect upon my past and dream about my future I am to write. I am to tell the story of me.

I arrived at the outer doors of the temple exactly at 5:00pm, as I had been directed. The door was opened to me by nothing less than a Goddess of beauty, soft skin and lace. As I entered the foyer my eyes caressed her beauty. High heels, Cuban style stockings held up by a lacy garter belt, and matching panties, a complete outfit that revealed much yet promised more.

"Follow me." She commanded as she turned to lead the way up a wide staircase.

Starting up the stairs, following her lead, I noticed another Goddess standing at their head. I could see that she wore matching heels upon her feet but those heels were her only adornment. She was gloriously nude.

When I reached the top of the staircase the nude Goddess opened a small door to her left. Following her lead we all entered the small room where I now sit.

"Are you ready to dedicate your life to the sacred feminine?" I was asked.

"Yes Goddess." I replied.

"Do you renounce your masculinity, understanding it to be wholly inferior to femininity?" The second question I heard.

"Yes Goddess." I replied.

"Do you agree that you must lead a life of suffering, that suffering is your destiny as a male?" The questions continued.

"Yes Goddess." I affirmed.

"Is the step you are about to take of your own free will?" I was asked.

"Yes Goddess." I answered once again.

"Then strip. Remove your clothing as the very first step down this path." The nude Goddess commanded. "You will begin this journey with no adornment whatsoever."

As ordered I slowly stripped, placing my things with care on a small table beside the door. I remained under watchful eyes as I removed the ring from my finger and the delicate gold chain from around my neck. My watch was next, and then I began removing my clothes. My blouse was first, followed by my bra. I removed my shoes, pantyhose, and finally my skirt. My thong panty was quite beautiful, but as always embarrassing to me. I hated the way its delicate material was stretched by my worthless dick and balls. I longed for a body that was smooth and sleek, instead I possessed an unsightly bulge that distorted my beautiful lingerie. Embarrassed at my state, I removed the panty. I stood before the beautiful Goddesses, my cock rock hard and pointing at them, dripping because of the lust they brought forth within me.

I was ashamed, I knew that the physical display of my lust was disgraceful and degrading, an insult to the Goddesses.

The Goddess in stockings and panty bent over to touch my legs, running her hands over them from my calves to my ass. As she stood her hands caressed my balls and worked their way up to my chest where they lightly pinched my nipples.

"Perfectly smooth and well shaven." She said to the other Goddess.

The nude Goddess pointed to a small desk and chair. "You will sit, contemplate your life. Write it for us. Write us your story, your past, your present, your dreamed of future. When you are done we will read it. If we find it worthy, you will be allowed to continue this journey."

I moved toward the desk and pulled out the chair. When I truly saw it, the chair startled me. From across the room it had looked like any standard wooden desk chair, now that it was pulled out I noticed that it was anything but standard. On the seat was affixed a huge wooden dildo. Massive in girth and quite long, it became obvious that sitting in this chair would be an exercise in violation for any victim.

"I said you will sit!" Barked the nude Goddess, obviously irritated by my slight hesitation.

I gingerly moved my body into place, pulling the chair into the desk as I hovered over the hard dildo. Gently I placed my body's opening at its tip and slowly lowered myself, trying to accept the inevitable penetration.

"Sit!" The nude Goddess yelled while grasping my shoulders and shoving me downward with all her might. I must confess that I screamed at the violation as my body was forced to accept the hard dildo. Screamed in agony and fear. The pain hasn't gone away as I've sat here but after a few moments I was able to slowly begin to accept it.

The Goddesses lit a single candle on the desk and reminded me of my task. They then turned out the lights. Preparations complete they stood beside me at the desk. I had thought that they were ready to leave me, but it seemed that more was in store.

The nude Goddess placed a foot on the chair beside me, an act that opened her legs and allowed me to have a complete and stunning view of her body's holy temple. Its lips were open, glistening with moisture, seeming to call out to be caressed and pleasured.

"Look at what you will never possess." The stocking and pantied Goddess said. "Devour with your eyes that which you will forever desire, that which will forever control your miserable existence."

While speaking the Goddess moved to her nude partner. They embraced and I watched as she penetrated that open temple of womanhood with her long, slender finger. It disappeared, and I heard the nude Goddess sigh in pleasure. They parted and the finger was rubbed across my upper lip, below my nose.

"May the scent of femininity fuel your writing." The Goddess said.

Silently they both left the room, I've been here since, contemplating the blank paper and pen before me.

Posted by Milliscent at 4:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

Over the course of our long association I've come to admire the cold efficiency with which my Mistress undertakes this daily chore.

First thing every morning I follow her into the bathroom and kneel at her feet, in front of the toilet as she voids her bladder. When she is finished I gently, and carefully blot her divine pussy dry with toilet paper. This is of course as close as I ever come to actually touching that body part which is the focus of so much of my life.

Her urine is not flushed away; rather I am made to move forward and bend over the rim of the toilet, placing my head within it so that I may smell the intoxicating liquor from her body.

Momentarily I hear the snap of a rubber glove around her wrist, and quickly feel a small dollop of lubricant on my ass. I then wait with patience while she fills a large enema bag with what proves to always be very cold water.

When she has filled the bag I soon feel the small nozzle attached to it slide into my ass. The bag is raised to hang off a hook and a clamp is released so that the water may flow freely from the bag deep into my bowels.

Invariably by the time the bag is empty I am suffering and feel extremely weak. I've never been able to get used to feeling so very full or the horrible cramps and need that enter my body with the cold water.

When she notices the empty bag she quickly removes the nozzle from my ass and drops the equipment into the sink for me to clean after I've been permitted to relieve myself. I then hear her remove the rubber glove from her hand, and soon that hand is pulling me upright, out of the toilet, up on my knees. She always bends down to kiss me, and wish me a good morning as her slave.

She then leaves the room to get a cup of coffee, as I remain kneeling in place, my body feeling as if it is ready to explode.

Eventually, sometimes mere seconds, sometimes a half hour or longer she will call out to me, let me know that I may now relieve myself. However long it may be on any given day, I await her voice in agony. Cheating is impossible for occasionally she checks up on me and the consequences of disobedience would be horrendous.

From the very moment I met this wonderful woman she wanted to control every aspect of my life. She can't even tolerate the thought of me so much as voiding my own bowels on my own schedule. Hence I relieve myself on her time exactly. Every day of my life. I crave the cold and efficient ways she has found to fulfill her need for absolute control.

Posted by Milliscent at 3:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

She lay awake in bed, thinking about how content she was with her lover, how much she loved him. She felt the warmth of his body against hers and heard his soft snoring as he slept beside her.

She smiled at her happy thoughts and gently ran her fingers down his torso, touching him between his legs. She felt his body tense at her touch, shrink away from her, almost cringe in fear as he slept. She was proud of his body's unconscious reaction, pleased that even in sleep his desire for her was always tinted with his fear of her.

She continued caressing between his legs, she thought about how strange it felt, some odd little bumps, ridges, scar tissue. She thought about how pleased she was with the decision she had made two years prior. She knew that he was a much better man because of it, that she would never have been able to love him as much as she did had she not decided to have his cock and balls removed.

She remembered that it had been a punishment. She had arrived home unexpectedly one day to find him in the bathroom, working to defeat the cage she had placed on his cock. When later she punished him it came out that he had been masturbating without her authorization for quite some time.

She gave him a choice. She would leave him, or he would consent to having his precious cock and balls cut away. He consented and she arranged the radical surgery. She never regretted her decision and she didn't wonder if he regretted his, she thought that perhaps she should care about his feelings over the matter, but deep down inside she knew that she didn't.

Her fingers continued their gentle wandering, moving around his body to his asshole. She gently probed and felt him come awake. She had used his ass earlier and it was still slick with lubricant and open to her touch. She knew that it had to be sore because she had used a very large dildo and fucked him with great roughness so she was not surprised to hear him moan in discomfort.

His pain however served only to excite her. After a bit of time caressing him she opened the drawer on her nightstand and removed a very long dildo with a handle attached. It was shaped as a policeman's nightstick, and she remembered that it's packaging had called it such.

As her lover struggled to come fully awake she rammed the dildo home, forcing him open and fucking his abused ass with all the force she could muster. She laughed softly as his moans became something more akin to screams. She decided that when she was done he could sleep again, but that in the morning round three would begin.

Posted by Milliscent at 11:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (12)

I'm not like most women; I'm different, unique. I don't desire cock as they desire it, I don't need or want a cock inside of me, invading my body. I think cocks can be fun, but fun as playthings, objects of torture, not as instruments of sexual pleasure.

Don't get me wrong, I love men, and I love sex, just not the way most women do. Like the rest of me, my sexual desires are unique. I can't fathom getting off while my cunt is stretched around some guy's cock, but I absolutely adore getting off while some guy's tongue and lips gently massage my pretty little pussy.

All that said though, I have to admit that the cock now presented to me was truly magnificent. I had to wonder if the boy possessing it was somehow deformed. Unbelievably long, so thick my hand couldn't encompass it's entire girth. Hard as a rock, with stiff veins mapping it's velvety surface and a beautiful smooth head standing proudly above the shaft. It was in my hand, I was stroking it with just enough force so that my fingernails dug into it providing its owner with a bit of pain to compliment his pleasure.

This magnificent cock, so much larger than Sissy's pathetic member, Sissy was watching me toy with it, I hope that it was making her feel horribly inadequate. Sissy was quite a visual spectacle herself, standing across the room, watching, waiting to serve my needs. I had her dressed in towering heels, locked on at the ankles of course, stockings, skirt, ridiculously huge breast forms, and a blouse too small to ever cover her properly. Under her outfit a cute matching bra and panty set, and under those I had her properly outfitted with her chastity cage and a delightfully large butt plug. Perhaps later I'd replace that plug with the magnificent cock I was stroking but for now I just wanted Sissy to stand and watch.

My prime desire was for her to watch this cock cum. Sissy hadn't cum in weeks, and for all she knew she may not be cumming for weeks more. She knew how ruthless I could be in denying orgasm; today I wanted her to see how generous I could be in granting orgasm. I wanted her to ponder the pain of denial I forced upon her while seeing the joy I so freely gave another. Poor sissy used to cum normally but that was long before I turned her into my own little faux lesbian. I wanted the pain of remembrance to attack her mind. I'd do that by making this magnificent cock cum. Cum over and over again as the day progressed. I'd not finish with this cock until it was utterly devoid of any further liquids and its owner was completely exhausted. Of course Sissy would lick up every drop between rounds, and I'd let her watch while the boy licked me to my own release as well.

I may not be like other women, my own thoughts about the proper use of cocks may be unique, but that doesn't mean that Sissy, the boy, and I couldn't enjoy this magnificent cock to the fullest!

------------------------
Milliscent's Fiction

Posted by Milliscent at 12:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

She stood in front of the large french doors of her studio, contemplating the magnificent view below. Studio was an apt name for the space as she created art within it, art though that few would recognize as such. Her art was her ability to raise excruciating pain, abiding fear, and ultimately graceful death. She was a vampire, not the caricature of fiction, not an animal that fed upon blood, but a goddess of power that fed upon the pain and fear she was able to inflict upon others.

She wore little, patent leather stiletto heels, black with red trim, and a PVC waist cincher to match. She knew that her trim body looked spectacular, and she was dressed in such a way because her latest plaything was scheduled to arrive at any moment.

She mused that intellectually he knew what she was, and what he would experience, for she found it easy to be perfectly honest with her potential victims. She learned centuries ago that the world was filled with men who needed to be hurt by the women they loved, better yet that some of these men could not find personal fulfillment in anything less than the most extreme torture and humiliation. Men who sought annihilation at the hands of a woman. She also knew though that the reality would be a tremendous shock to him, that nothing could truly prepare him for the short lifetime he had left. Intellectually he could embrace what was to come, but his emotions would be much less strong.

She thought of their shared future together. She would use him physically in ways he could scarcely imagine, cause him to feel exquisite pains beyond any level of human endurance, day and night he would experience long periods of horror for much like the drinking of blood, sunlight's disastrous effects upon vampires was a human myth.

Mentally too he would suffer. She was expert at humiliation, verbal abuse, and emotional torture. He would cry as she laughed, despair as she smiled, loose himself under the assault of her words.

These times of activity would be interspersed for him with times of loneliness and fear. Times when he would be given nothing to distract him from his thoughts of what he would next endure. When he had recovered from her previous games, when his fear had again reached a fevered pitch she would return to him, force him to suffer actively once again.

She knew that his body was young and powerful, yet it would not remain so. She would change it, modify it to suit her twisted imagination, weaken it through abuse and deliberate harm. Eventually, as she always did she would grow bored with him. She would again desire a strong male body instead of the wreck she had wrought. When that happened she knew that he would have to die. He would finally, and in the most painful yet artful way possible be annihilated by her.

She turned from the glass doors and was snapped out of her reflections by a soft knock at the door. Her victim, her food, had arrived.

Posted by Milliscent at 11:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Penetration, an act of power, of masculinity, an invasion, a taking, a claiming. He penetrates her, consensual violence, a demand for surrender, submission. His will, his cock, pressing into her, filling her, demanding entry into her. Opening her, body, mind, and soul. The penetrator, penetration a manifestation of power.

Accepting penetration, an act of surrender, of femininity, a yielding, a giving, a granting. She is penetrated by him, desires his violence, grants her surrender, her submission. Accepts his will, his cock, opening for him, being filled by him, accepting him. Taking him inside, granting him her body, mind, and soul. The penetrated, penetrated as her act of surrender.

Man and woman, the normal order. Vanilla, plain, ordinary, not unique.

This man and woman, desires beyond the normal. Rocky Road, exciting, different, unique.

Rules and tools, their path to achievement, the way in which they gain their goals. Goals for excitement, goals to be unique, goals to experience ecstasy. Rules and tools to banish what they consider Vanilla, to achieve the Rocky Road they seek.

Rule, stark, cold, unyielding. Her to him, a command, a way of life: ‘You may never again penetrate my body, you have entered me for the last time.’

Rule, frightening, sharp, absolute. Her to him, a reminder, a way of life: ‘Intimacy is important, I’m going to fuck you till you cry, at least three nights a week.’

Tools, stainless steel, silicone, leather. The tools of enforcement, the tools of change. The tools of excitement, tools used to find that Rocky Road, as Vanilla has been banished from their shared lives forever.

Stainless steel, encasing flesh, piercing flesh, constraining flesh. His body, his member viciously constrained, it’s natural function denied, it’s natural growth impossible. Locked away, done away with, denied. Masculinity shunted aside, penetration made impossible, chastity demanded, chastity enforced.

Leather holding silicone. Around her waist, between her legs, a stout and strong harness, a harness sturdy enough to withstand her passions, her violence. Black, shiny, leather, fetish, the scent, the feel, the raw power of leather. Silicone, jutting forward from her body, massive, a member crafted not by nature but by man, a member so much larger, so much more imposing than any nature could create. Her member, a masculine shaft, penetration made possible, she the penetrator, she penetrates.

The penetrator, feminine yet powerful. Manifesting power through action, through violence, through opening, through fucking.

The penetrated, masculine yet yielding. Submitting through acceptance, through obedience, through capitulation, through passivity.

Sybil and Richard, their lives together, their shared sexuality, their Rocky Road, in dreams only do they exist, yet dreams can truly be wonderful things.

Posted by Milliscent at 3:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

"Cry. Cry for me. I want to see your tears, I want to hear you whimper, I want to feel you sob. I love being cruel to you, your tears are my reward. I love hurting you, your tears sustain me. I want to laugh as you suffer, laugh as you cry, laugh as you whimper. I find joy in your tears, joy in causing your tears. How I long to see your pain.

Do you truly understand what it means to be my plaything?

Will you come to me, come suffer for me?"

Posted by Milliscent at 4:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)