"you smell like an old used tampon"

it is rare when i am able to come up with enough money to honor my Mistress with a session. however, during the holidays, somehow, i was able to do just that. i always enjoy O/our sessions. imaginative and creative, my Mistress, Ms Eliza, is also cunning and ruthless in Her methods of dispatching me. as a consummate pain slut, i am constantly seeking brutal and torturous ways in which to push the envelope of pain, degradation and humiliation. My Mistress is always willing to comply and the chemistry that takes place between U/us as Sadist and masochist is at times so extreme and severe, that it scares the holy living shit out of me. i love how She is able to read me and not hold back when it comes to jerking, yanking and tightening the chains which bind me to Her. i in turn release my inhibitions and fears which allows Her to totally overpower and subjugate me through hard assed and despicable means. the ensuing melee turns into a recipe for ripened bloodlust, which seeks to satiate both O/our unquenchable appetites, but invariably leads U/us to crave even more.

i rustled out of my covers and looked at my watch. it was still early, but i could not contain the energy and enthusiasm which seemed to course through my veins. today was the day of my personal session with my Mistress. the house was quiet and still. i knew She would still be sleeping, but i was so excited that i decided to get up, get dressed and check on my car and belongings. i hastily packed my things and hauled a few items to my vehicle. when i returned i heard my Mistress' sweet voice calling me from Her bedroom.

"pet, what time is it?" i bounded up the stairs to greet Her. She sat upright in the four poster and stretched Her lithe, winsome body out catlike which ended with a cute yawn.

"its 10:45AM Mistress." i took my usual place crouched on the floor beneath Her. soon i felt Her supple hands tossle and rustle through my coarse hair. She stretched and yawned again. Her long black mane cascaded down the strong feminine contours of Her back. She lifted Her arms to shoulder height, the characteristic muscular bulges of Her biceps were still apparent from the play of the night before.
"Mmmmmmmmm ... W/we have so much to do today pet." She stretched out and launched Her fit body upwards. Her pert breasts peaked inside Her t-shirt. bulged and then relaxed.

i swallowed hard and tried to maintain my composure. "yes Mistress. i know W/we do."

"Now I want you to go downstairs to fix me some breakfast while I get ready. ok?" i obeyed and went downstairs to fix Her some scrambled eggs. i prepared everything the way She liked and then called Her down for breakfast. it wasn't long before She came into the kitchen. i almost dropped the pan of eggs when i saw Her. She was dressed all in black, with the tightest pair of black yoga pants i had ever seen! Her biceps seemed to bulge appreciatively from the skin tight, small, black t-shirt She was wearing.

"Well what do you think pet? How do I look?" i gulped down hard and tried not to rattle the pan. She giggled and laughed with derision at my apparent discomfort. "Well, I will take that as a fearful yes." She smiled and patted me on the cheek. "do you think that these pants are way too tight?" with raised eyebrows, She tossed Her black mane and showed a sardonic grin. She baited me and waited for a response. i swallowed hard again. Her legs were utterly magnificent. Her muscular thighs jutted out and flared above Her hardened cut calves. Her derriere was clearly on display, encased in the skin tight, black, lycra material. little was left to one's imagination. wrinkles and any type of fold had all been banished. i know it is cliche to say this, but a quarter would of bounced very nicely off Her rounded tight behind.

W/we ate O/our breakfast together, but it was quite evident from the outset that the domination had begun. She innately knew the triggers to push to get my fetish fears churning.

"Oh, i'm so glad you didn't burn the eggs again, the way You usually do pet, otherwise I would have to smash your face into your plate. but you would like that, wouldn't you?" She playfully forced and pushed my head into my plate. some egg residue dribbled down my cheek and chin. "No,... I know what you would like..."Yes, This is what you want, isn't it?" She put Her Nike sneakered foot up forcefully on top of my thigh as close to my crotch without actually touching it. "Mmmmmmm ... You want these in your face ... to smell them after I have worn them. Mmmmmmmmmm ... can you just imagine how they would feel on your face now?" she took one of Her Nike sneakers off and smacked me hard across the face. ohhhhh, i could smell the ambrosia like essence emanating from her warm soles. it was too much to bear.i began to shake and shudder and teared up just a bit. She peered at me and took my face in Her hand. giggling and mocking me She tightened the screws of my torment and dug a little deeper into the fears of my subconscious."Awwww don't worry and tremble so", She spoke with chaste school girl innocence. "I'll beat You senseless with these soon enough." Her voice was comforting, rhapsodic, yet laced with just a tinge of the psychotic.

The bullying was incessant. while, i had experienced it before via email and over the cell phone, i had never woken up to it and faced it dead on in the morning. i didn't know how to respond to Her verbal jabs and taunts. i was fractured and ultimately disoriented and to make matters worse, the session hadn't even begun. She slapped me full in the face playfully but definitely seeking to intimidate and rattle me. the slaps were hard then soft, then harder still, and likewise softer. She watched me and devoured me with Her sharp seductive smile. raising Her eyebrows, She smirked then clobbered me hard one more time with an extended open palm. my head was already starting to spin and ring. i felt the swelling raised relief of Her hand-print burn across my left cheek. "Awwwwwwe, i know that one hurt. didn't it?" Her tone was vitriolic and full of condescension. i flinched as She reached down and patted my bruised and reddened face. "no flinching ... or i may not be able to help myself today." She laughed as She reached for my poor nose. "oh, and there's that nose that always gets in the way ... doesn't it?" She grabbed my nose hard between Her sinewy, strong fingers, pinching and gouging as if She was an MD probing for stress fractures. "Mmmmmmmmm ... do You think i should crush it or break it? ... again, pet? i felt Her increase the pressure torquing down on the cartilage. "it was so fun and amusing the last time i managed to snap the thing. Remember?" She playfully flicked my injured nose with Her sharpened finger tips. i gazed at Her feebly, while forced down on my hands and knees near Her white socks. the pain was incredibly sharp and intense as She dug Her nails down harder into my nasal cavity. my tears began to trickle and flow which seemed to entice and excite Her more. "Awwwwe, she grabbed the collar of my shirt brusquely, I know You are scared of me ... or is it more of what I am going to do to You my little pet?" She stroked my cheek with the back of Her palm and then got up to leave the table.

"Now clean this place up, then find my phone and then come upstairs ... I have a few more things for You to do for me before O/our session. Ok?" She again patted my cheek, smiled and then was gone. i nursed the hand print, feeling the reddened swollen ridges with my trembling fingers. i quickly cleaned the kitchen, found my Mistresses phone, retrieved Her purse and was back up in Her presence quickly again like the well trained pet that i had become.

but, something about Her demeanor had changed rather drastically. if prior to this, She was the "wise-cracking, sweet-talking, mesmerizing, bullying school girl", now, She was nothing like i had experienced before. She had adeptly applied additional makeup and Her look had become all the more convincingly dark, forboding and sinister. i was not sure, but it seemed also that She carried Herself with more of an adroitness, in touch with every curve and hardened muscle in Her body. Her deltoids seemed to bulge and leap to definition beneath Her skintight black t-shirt. another frightening fact was in regard to Her stature, she seemed as if She had grown another 2 or 3 inches in height. but that would of been impossible! She carried Herself convincingly, with a female swagger that belied the obvious confidence She knew She possessed, to pulverize me into miniscule male spermacide globules at the flex or contortion of Her hardened, strong body. i shivered and cowered in Her powerful presence. the mind fucking games were flying faster than my poor male mind could comprehend. She stepped forward and displayed Her body in the full sunshine of a nearby window. She stroked Her long tresses, teasing the dark locks out of their confines and magnifying their volume with each consecutive, preening sweep.

now, She was talking, but, i was not listening. i was too focused and mesmerized by the power and control She held innately over me.

"What was that?" She was going on about something .... something about not being able to find some soccer cleats in the closet. and "now what?" clothes, ... go and gather some clothes somewhere, somehow? but, everything was so fuzzy. i must of been delusional. i couldn't, or was it didn't want to comprehend or hear. i blinked and struggled to bring myself back to consciousness from this femdom paradox. but, i couldn't and wouldn't focus ...

"pescado!!! what the FUCK!... can't you keep up?!!!" my Mistress had to literally speak harshly to me to shake me out of the uncomprehensive state i found myself in. She derided me and poked fun. criticizing the fact, that i had to be told umpteen times what to do. i finally complied and did find the long blue dress, and her dry cleaned black leather fringed jacket, and also another dress. they were soon in Her car and Her purse was ready to go also.

i bolted upstairs one more time.
"i'm finished Mistress ... i've done all that Youv'e requested. Mistress?... Mistress? ... i searched frantically for Her. but She was nowhere to be found upstairs. i was now starting to sweat... rather, profusely and a tad out of breath. my heart was beating in double time about to go into triple time. i was starting to grow pensive. i yelled for Her one more time. Mistress where are You!! i peered into Her bedroom, but She was nowhere to be found in this huge house. Suddenly,...

"I'm down here You silly boy." I walked out and peered over the railing that permitted a view of downstairs. "Have You done everything that I asked of You?" i nodded my head like a knowing puppy dog. "Good boy." now, get Your ass down here so W/we can begin.

i flew downstairs as quickly as i could almost passing Her in the process. She had one of Her other slaves set-up the mats for Her while i was doing Her bidding. She also asked that additional blankets be laid down to prevent any bodily fluids from staining the carpet.

"ok, now pet, did You bring water for both of U/us?" i could never understand why my Mistress needed water during a session. She never seemed to sweat, or get winded. it was i who always ended up in a mussed up, drenched in sweat and in a disheveled state begging for h2o. i said yes and set them down.

i changed quickly into my khaki shorts and an older white t-shirt. my innocent looking white crew socks looked like fresh meat compared to Her turf grinding, asphalt eating Nikes. i'm not sure why that turns me on so, it just always has.
i sat down on the mat and watched as She went through a choreographed routine of limbering up and stretching. it was amazing to watch the svelteness and flexibility She had at Her disposal. She arched Her back and stretched Her lithe body out serpentine bending down and stretching one leg at a time over Her head until the toes touched. She did some amazing flips and did some unbelievable straddle touches that i knew i could never do.

then, She looked me straight in the eye adjusted Her wrist protector and said. "Ready, lets begin." Her fists came up in a characteristic fighter's stance on cue and she began to dance around me, testing my reflexes, which were unbelievably slow compared to Hers. She began to hit and swat at me playfully at first. trash talking and baby talking to me as only She could pull off.

" oh, You are so slow and pathetic. didn't You see that one coming?" Her tight, light fist clocked me hard and then bounced across the cheek. it hurt like hell! even though, i had learned something about defending myself against some punches, She was always way too fast for me. Her deadly combinations were constantly peppering me with rapid fire jack rabbit attacks. Once, She would deck me with a hard left She would then follow through with a pummeling right cross, or a devastatingly numbing back fist. the slapping was calculated and mind blowingly intense. She slapped me hard across the bridge of my nose and the slope of my brow. i was already starting to feel the puffiness and the swelling. it seemed like this was going to be a long drawn out session. i prepared myself for Her onslaught. each time She punched me, it was always buttoned up with a grin and grimace at the same time. . sometimes She would lick the top row of Her teeth and curling Her tongue around the jagged contours of their pointed orifices. "Awwwww, you don't look so good do You?" "Your cheeks are getting all red and puffy." She grabbed the camera out of my book bag and took some candids of my contused and swollen face. i managed to pull off a confused and dazed grin. my eyes were glazed a bit and i could feel the knots already beginning to form under neath my cheek bones and around my eye sockets. i was now starting to sweat and drip like the outside of a glass of water left out too long on a humid summer day. the sweat was beading and, compact dripping into my eyes and it stung like hell. but, i wanted to continue. it excited me to be abused and beaten by Her. to feel Her lethal, compact fists turn my face into malleable putty. She caressed my bruised face gently then gave it a hard swat with Her open palm.

"Awwwww, had enough boy?" i again felt the characteristic swelling and the rising texture from Her embedded hand print. She laughed with evil derision, stepped back and viewed Her handy work, but not before She had punched me hard in the balls."Ohhhhhhh Hahahahahah ... DICK PUNCH!" She yelled ... i doubled over in pain from her hard bony fist's impact. it felt as if my balls had been jettisoned to the top of my throat ... screaming to get out! "Hmmmm...didn't see that one coming ... did you?" i managed to eek out a soprano utterance which more closely resembled a squelch. i writhed and twitched on the ground for too long obviously.

"Get the up! but, i couldn't move. "i said, get the Fuck up!" She grabbed my ear and gouged them with Her sharpened nails. it felt like She was going to rip it off and it was excruciatingly painful.

now usually, after a few rounds of fisticuffs with this sadistic Siren, She usually reverts to grappling and i have little chance of surviving Her constricting onslaught. particularly, if She traps either my head or any other weakened limb in between Her calves or much worse, Her thighs. but, this did not seem to be on Her agenda for today. She was genuinely enjoying the pummeling She was delivering full force to my face. once in awhile, Her body went on grappling "auto pilot", but, the She quickly reversed the programing back to an authentic face busting, cheek cracking, beat down. i continued to marvel with the way She danced and parried before me. striking hard and soft with well aimed jabs and crosses. taking pot shots at will now, She beat me senseless with well aimed,seemingly lazer guided, jacked up punches, striking and nailing me constantly in the forehead, cheeks and bridge of my nose. Her strikes began to accelerate so fast that i swear that i heard the strike well after She had launched the lethal combinations. my nose was beginning to resemble an inflated, distended strawberry with my pores resembling the holes the seeds would tightly burst out of. She was actually enjoying the slaughter, but something had changed. The strikes were coming faster and harder and their impact was agonizingly painful. i couldn't see the hits coming anymore. i only heard the sounds of Her fist whizzing by and then smacking me hard. i was dazed, swollen, bruised and i think it had only been a little more than 5 minutes.

the piston packed punches continued to explode and erupt all over my face. but, She seemed bound and determined to make my nose suffer the most from Her bone shattering slaps and punches. what hurt most was the wrist protector She had donned. each time She hit me with it, it felt as if the side of my head would split and cave in from the impact. i tried in vain to defend myself, but Her reflexes were too fast. She played and parried with the strikes, but now Her punches were really starting to sting and hurt.

then ...

She launched a wild, solid volley of punches and strikes and the last hard right jammed me straight in the nose. it was cartilage smashing and potently lethal. it achieved the perfect, desired results She had been aching to deliver. i bent down, dizzy and a little punch drunk. She wasn't satisfied and raised her fists to deliver some more pugilistic punishment. Her punches were becoming stronger and more focused. the skill She used to deliver them was teeth shattering. i am not sure as to what happened next, but i do know that it set into motion a chain reaction of events that caused my session with my punch happy Mistress to end terribly prematurely.

"Awwwww, Your face is starting to look all smushy ..." She razzed and teased me while inspecting my face for damage. suddenly it happened. my nose began to drip and bleed. my Mistress was ecstatic! i watched as Her eyes widened and seemingly danced. Her sardonic grin took on a wicked leer. Her points barely brushing the sides of Her lips. She stepped in and grabbed the sides of my face then started laughing. "Ha ha" ... you are really dripping now dork." true, the dripping was now quite steady and it was going from my nose into the slit of my puffy lips and then dribbling down the front of my shirt. i coughed and gagged a little ...

"please take a picture of this Mistress i pleaded." She found my camera and clicked some more candids of my swollen, beaten face.
"ooooooooh ... Her tone was dark, and utterly sultry ... it was almost as if it came from deep within, much like i would imagine deepened,dark sexual utterances would sound. "mmmmmmm... She glazed Her points with the tip of Her tongue. W/we must continue."

"ready"... She raised Her fists again in a fighter's stance. i was still dripping, and sniffling bits of blood and mucous ... trying to keep it in my nose, with little success. "Let me get to that nose." She jabbed my nose playfully, but i knew what Her intentions were. without warning She launched a hard left into the side of my left cheek. i heard the sickening sound of something popping and tearing loose. i thought for sure that the sound was a back tooth being knocked out and dislodged from it's socket. She must of heard it too for Her eyes narrowed into slits and Her grin widened up then down into a snarl. i swallowed and continued to choke on my blood, trying to stay out of the line of fire from her clipping punches. but, i was not fast enough.

WAP! She hammered on my face and decked me incredibly hard between the eyes with a crushing right cross. then, before i could even register what had happened, She followed through with a powerful,lethal left cross that nearly tore the top of my head off. both hits were aimed perfectly and what little bit of equilibrium i had left came crashing down to the mats. i was dazed, and dizzy and now my nose was a bloody gusher that refused to shut off. i sat seemingly comatose in the middle of the mat covered in blood. i looked timidly around me and saw that i was sitting in a large pool of my blood.

my Mistress was delighted , "there, that did it. i knew i could make you bleed." She stood over me like a prize fighter who had just won the trophy belt. blood was everywhere! all over my face, arms, legs, hands and fingers. it had even seeped well down below into my underwear and was covering my cock profusely. suddenly, She realized the physical gravity of the situation, sprang into action.

"Are you ok pet? ... She grabbed my blood matted hair and peered into my swollen, bruised, eyes. "Damnit pescado, speak up! look into my eyes!" She yanked my head harder and took a greater amount of hair in Her fist. i yawned ... i knew what She was doing. She took on the air of a concerned medical professional. She checked my eyes to see if i was catatonic and if the tell tale signs of my pupils being dialated were present. i'll go upstairs to get some towels and some cold compresses.

"no." i said. i was on edge and on the verge of crying from being bullied about and the pummeling had seemed to have knocked my emotions to all kilter. "stop" ... just stop. please Mistress." my lips were quivering and the brave face that i had put on throughout the match melted into a gully washer of salty tears. i reached for the camera with one of my blood stained hands. "take a picture please Mistress." She stopped and looked at me with a disapproving look which then blended into a sarcastic grin. "She began snapping pictures and laughing as She went.

" Mmmmmmmm ....would you look at that?" She took a few more pics, walked past me and then spoke abruptly, "Gawd, you are such a fucking blood whore!" i just giggled and laughed at the comment. She knew me so well. it was scary. "Can you fucking believe all of this shit?' i mean... look at all your blood. you are sitting in a pool of it." She gestured finally taking the last pics. then she stood up with hands on hips and began to walk away. but, before She did She raised an eyebrow and said. "you know ... you smell just like an old used tampon." true the entire room had taken on the sticky sweet iron induced aroma of blood. there was no escaping the putrid smell. i do not know what it was about that emasculating comment, but i suddenly went painfully hard and struggled to cover up and not let my Mistress see. i don't think i was too successful.

She smirked, laughed and threw some towels and cleaning solution at me.

"Now, look at this mess You made." She spoke furtively. "i have to go pick someone up and by the time i get back i want my mats nice and clean and this place cleaned up. In the meantime, you had better hop over and get Your ass in the shower. and ... i don't want to see a single drop of blood on My carpet. Do You understand? She stood over me like some Amazonian Goddess with Her hands on Her hips. Her biceps and triceps were delightfully pumped. i felt so small and inconsequential in terms of Her world.

i nodded my head in agreement with lowered eyes. "Good boy. i'll just have to keep you with me today so i can keep an eye on you. wouldn't want you to convulse and go into a coma now.... would we pet?" She patted my cheek and then got up to walk away. She always knew the words to use and what to say to make my spine go frigid and the hair on the back of my neck stand erect.

"oh and one more thing ... She met me in the bathroom as i prepared to shower. "Now tell me, who gave You more of a bloody nose and a brutal beatdown experience overall .... Me or Ming? it's not because i am in any type of school girl competition with Her ... i just need to know." i stood in front of the mirror and gazed at the reflection of my Mistresses' bloody handiwork. i was covered from head to toe in buckets of my own blood and still dripping. i smiled and faced Her and said,

"who do You think Mistress? it is You. You are the one who beats me up until i bleed uncontrollably." She smiled patted my cheek and then said,

"i thought so ... don't ever forget it pet." i nodded and then She was gone.

in all, O/our session only lasted 15 bone smashing, brutal, pain induced minutes. but, those minutes were an absolute pain induced Nirvana for me. i was high on endorphins for the rest of the day.

i reflect frequently on that session. Even though it was incredibly brief, it's intensity and passion rocked my world. for the next week i was reminded daily of the damage, force and magnitude of my Mistress'fist as i continually daily coughed up bits of bloody phlegm, sputum and mucous. the dried up coagulated clots of blood that i either sneezed out or were suddenly dislodged in a tissue was a telling testament of the extreme force of Femdom nature that my Mistress had become.

i peered at the hardened scabbed over bits and pieces of blood and realized that this is what i am to my Mistress. my body is Hers to do with as She sees fit. i do so long to be Her sacrifice again. my blood burns and yearns again to be tried and released. i hope soon dear Mistress. i hope very, very soon.

how many kicks does it take to reach the squishy male center?

ouch! looks like he is aching for some blue ball shots

after some severe "dick punching" ... do Y/you think that She can crush some rocks in Her kung fu grip?

ah well ... better late than never :p

i never could find an appropriate way to express Happy New Year to everyone in the Fem Domme community. i think this says it rather nicely. Happy New Year everyone! may W/we all get what we rightly deserve in 2012. i hope i deserve and earn an especially humiliating and painful one. };)------>

tasting the essence of Her sneakered feet

yesterday my Mistress summoned me to fetch Her a glass of water while She continued to work on the intricacies of Her vast online Empire. i quickly dispatched myself to Her kitchen and was back in Her presence with a nice tall glass almost filled to the brim. She took it from my hand quickly, and in doing so spilled it on some of Her work and papers. She moved quickly to put it down, but then spilled and dribbled it down Her long leg into Her pink ed hardy sneakers.

"oh, i didn't realize the glass was so full ... Hmmmmm, all over my papers and now down my leg dripping into my shoe. She bent down to remove Her shoe. Her glistening pink painted toes were torturous reminders of who i was and my "lower than thou" niche in Her amazing world.

"Mmmmmmmm ... all wet ... even filled it. C'mere pet." i eagerly and obediently did as i was told and knelt obsequiously at Her feet.

She removed the waterlogged pink sneaker and dangled it teasingly and precipitously near my face and nose. i could smell the familar and enticing essence of Her warm, sweet smelling, female sneakered feet. the smell of rubber and canvas washed over me and i felt myself melting in one direction and going considerably hard in the next. it was as if i was being rended apart by my overwhelmed senses.

"Open up" She grasped the back of my head and gently tilted it back. as if on cue i complied and opened my mouth. She brought the gossamer sneaker up to my mouth, teased me for a brief second them quickly dumped the contents down my throat!

i closed my eyes and tried to gulp in all of this female power and ambrosia. but, ... i failed ... epicly ... :(. i had not counted on this new taste to be so disarming and so overwhelming to me. i sniffed and smelled the sensual, intoxicating scent of sticky, salty, sweaty female feet. that coupled with the warm sensation of the tepid, warm, mixture washing over my tongue and going down the back of my throat was too much to take in all at once! i gagged ... choked ... and almost spit it out! i did not want to, but the enticing female feet brew was too strong, pure and powerful for my frail male psyche to handle!

my Mistress laughed at me and poked fun. "well, i can see W/we are going to have to work on this one pet." whew! at least She wasn't mad. i hung my head in shame and dishonor. i had always imagined what it would be like to take into me the essence of my Mistress and how wonderous and glorious it would be. and yet, here i had crashed and burned ... not even able to handle the simplest of elixers, produced from Her wonderful, amazing, athletic female feet.

even so, it was also at that moment that the strong realization hit. i had actually taken the physical steps to proceed to a lower more sub human state to please my Mistress. it scared me a bit and jolted me to the core.

"just how low and demeaned would i allow myself to become in Her presence?"

Her Squats are bigger than yours

OMGoddess! can Y/you only imagine?

scrambling the eggs

sometimes, it is performing the simple day to day tasks that give us the most joy and happiness when serving a Mistress. i suppose, that i am no different in this respect. for, i always try to give my best to my Mistress, in whatever endeavor She has assigned to me.

case in point, "meals". now, i enjoy cooking and preparing meals for my Mistress. it is always a special treat for me to do so. i have no problem with cooking lunch or "whipping" up something special for Her dinner. i am fairly adept at cooking steaks, chops, poultry and fish. cooking and steaming tempting vegetable combinations are also no problem for me. but, cooking breakfast? that is another drama filled issue for me. in particular, the cooking of any kind of eggs.

i had arrived somewhat early during the morning to my Mistresses' home. She is usually intent on keeping me busy and generally has assigned a myriad of domestic tasks and duties for me to complete while She works on the complex issues of maintaining Her empire. however, on this particular morning She greeted me at the door, balled up Her fist and socked me hard in the stomach, then tweaked my nose hard. She smiled with mischief, stood on Her tiptoes twisted my nipples hard and said.

"I want scrambled eggs for breakfast. Go fix me some breakfast." She must of noticed my ash fallen expression because it affected Her immediately. "Whats the matter pet?" She said.

i looked at Her quizzically. "scrambled eggs Mistress? i don't think i can. i really don't believe i should try. i might screw them up." i made a sad pouty face to try to convince Her to let me off the hook. but this only strengthened Her resolve and made Her somewhat irritated with me.

She patted my cheek and pinched my nose. "Well then." She said looking seriously at me ... I guess You will learn then, won't You?" She walked into Her bedroom and closed Her door. i was left in the hallway with a stupid scared look on my face.

now, how hard could it be to scramble some eggs? i went online to find a simple straight forward recipe. i gathered the ingredients together .."lets see eggs, milk, butter, salt and pepper". i mixed the eggy concoction together and was happy that the pan was now hot and greased with the butter. i whipped up the concoction and then dumped it into the frying pan and waited pensively for it to cook. Everything seemed to be going well. i was preparing my Mistresses" breakfast tray when i smelled a burning smell.

OMG! the eggs were burning! i had forgotten to turn them and now they were a stinking, smelly mass of black charred and brown ash! i had fucked up the eggs! Quickly, i turned off the burner and dispatched the burning embryos to the kitchen sink. i rewashed the brown burnt pan and proceeded to remake the eggs. whew! that was a close one.

i retraced my steps through the recipe and finally had the egg concoction whipped and siting comfortably in the frying pan. i turned the heat down considerably and waited for the eggs to brown slightly on the side. i then folded and flipped until the eggs were a nice fluffy mixture. i dabbed my forehead and was so pleased with myself. but, i blew it again! i allowed the eggs to sit too long on the burner when all of a sudden they began to brown and scorch on the bottom. i quickly turned off the burner and moved the eggs to a nuetral, safe location. but,it was too late. the eggs had that kind of burn't campfire look to them. it wasn't too bad. heck, maybe She kinda likes a little brown in her eggs.

"fishpaste? whats that i smell burning?" it was too late. She came scrambling out of Her room to see the scorched eggs. She looked at me, then the eggs and then chided me. "You were right, You really don't know how to scramble eggs...do you?" i hung my head in shame and agreed with Her culinary assessment. "Alright, bring them into my room. They don't appear too badly burned. but the next time you burn My eggs, I'm going to kick you hard in the balls and scramble your eggs." She whispered into my ear as She ranked on my shirt collar.

since then, i am proud to say that i have not burned or scorched one ... single ... egg ... or have i?

damn! ... not again! ;-)

the hula hoop

recently following a meeting, my Mistress and i went into Walmart to try to see if W/we could find some inner tubes to fix a flat on Her mountain bike. W/we were sidetracked though by a tempting display of hula hoops. She informed me that She had done some hula hooping in the past and that it was fun and probably good excercise. After finding a color that She particularly liked ... "a pink and blue rage design" .. She looked at me and said,
"Hmmm... I wonder if I can still do it?" She had me fetch the hoop down for Her. then gingerly,
she lifted the hoop and brought it up to Her lithesome waist and then began to slowly swivel Her hips from side to side. it was hypnotic. i watched in amazement as the hoop took on a new life of its own. it followed wherever my Mistress moved Her hips. it was truly an amazing sight. and i found myself gulping hard watching the congruent display of Her athleticism and skill. Her hair got in the way once, so She lifted it up a bit higher as She continued to gyrate through the sporting goods section unaware of the male audience that She was seemingly now drawing.

or was She?

i watched with interest as the section of male gawkers and onlookers seem to grow with every rotation, swivel and twist of Her hips. what was interesting was how She drew them in with something so simple and innocent as hula hooping. janitors, stock boys, and clerks all of a sudden seemed to have some type of job or duty in this section of the store. a janitor went by Her with his push broom as She continued to hula, a young blond haired male clerk almost dropped the sales signs he was posting when he saw Her. they seemed to be like flies drawn to Her as honey. some stayed back in the distant and chose a more subtle approach of leering and viewing. others brushed right past Her hoping to perhaps get a closer perspective of this titilating process.

my Mistress seemed to take this all in stride. She feigned innocence and said.
"wow, i seem to be drawing quite the crowd. i wonder why?" She smiled, and giggled mischieviously. then raising Her eyebrows and smirking at me, She said. "Now who would of known this would happen?"

suddenly, i noticed Her dominance take on a more pronounced air. the janitor who had brushed by Her two or three times now and was starting his 5th or sixth passby stopped in the bikes section to shuffle a bit and leer. She abruptly turned to face towards him and then in a musky, take charge tone said."How Ya doing?"

what i noticed was that the tone that She used was although seemingly friendly, it was the exact same tone used during O/our sessions when She wanted to humiliate and thoroughly emasculate me after roughing me up a bit. it came usually after a well placed blow or penetrating punch either to my head or a hard kick in the balls. it wasn't mean't to comfort, but rather to be used as a form of razzing and harassment. She knew perfectly well how i was doing and that She had the ability to totally destroy me with the least bit of effort on Her part.

this teasing, aggressive thrust and parry approach of Hers went on for a few more minutes. the hoop gathered momentum as it brushed against the seam of her incredibly tight t shirt. the word "clutch" printed provacatively across Her chest seemed to stretch, and heave as Her abs tightened and loosened and directed the hoop to follow the sensual curvature of Her abdomen.

however, all good things must come to an end and much to the chagrin of Her gathered male audience my Mistress suddenly stopped. we took the hoop and headed for the checkout. $5.78 seemed a small price to pay for my Mistresses' physical health and enjoyment. i happily pulled out my wallet and paid for the hoop.

my Mistress now hula hoops daily and i'm sure that the physical benefits of having a stronger, leaner and tighter set of abs will enable Her to crush and imobilize me with greater speed and efficiency.

the missing sharpie pen

sometimes serving a dominant woman is not easy. there are little things that get Her ire up such as; throwing away a plastic bottle in the garbage, when it could be recycled. or, not coming quickly enough when being called. i was asked by my Mistress to retrieve a pen from Her car. She told me a specific location from where to find it. She also told me to move quickly as She had many things for me to do that evening. being the efficient sub that i am, i scoured the entire car top to bottom for a pen. i looked under seats, in the glovebox, in the console and of course in the trunk. i very much wanted my Mistress to be proud of the efficient job that i was undertaking for Her. however, after an intricate and exhaustive search of Her vehicle there was no pen to be found. i trudged back upstairs to report back to Her.

as i walked in through the door, She commanded,

"fishpaste! get your ass in here, now!"

"Where the fuck have you been? Goddamnit! it's been over a 1/2 an hour, what have you been doing all this time!!" She was seething and vehemently angry with me.

i looked down with a downcast expression on my face. "i was looking for the sharpie You wanted Mistress. i couldn't find it, *stammering* so i looked all over your car for it hoping to find it."

She looked past an errant stray strand of brunette hair that was not quite in place and stared me down.

"That was well over a 1/2 hour ago! I have lots for you to do this evening! I have been waiting for your ass for 45 minutes! what the fuck were you doing down there!" She stood glaring at me with hands on hips!"

now, i had that uneasy, hollow feeling in my chest. Y/you know the kind that feels like there is nothing to support the crushing heavy weight that is suspended over You? "but, Mistress i wanted You to see how efficient i am, when You ask me to do something. i'm just that way."

"Come over Here!" She yanked hard on my shirt and pulled me down so that, i was forced to look up at Her. She grabbed the lower portion of my face with Her hand and dug Her nails in deep squeezing and pinching the skin around my mouth and chin.

i flinched from the pain. "No flinching, or I'll squeeze harder." my eyes began to water and i understood

omg, my Mistress was angry with me! but why, what had i done. i was quivering a bit, and then responded.

"Mistress", i spoke through quelled whimpering. "i only wanted to please You. i wanted You to see that i was being thorough in carrying through Your request." my eyes began to burn with tears.

She glared at me and squeezed my chin just a little harder.
"When I say that I want you to do something, I want you to listen to exactly what I am saying and do what I ask." She looked at me with a bit of a furrowed brow. "I said to go to my car and get the sharpie pen out of the console; did I not?" crossing Her hands over Her chest She continued to interrogate me.

"well? Answer Me?"

i nodded my head in agreement and compliance. "But taking a fucking 45 minutes to find one pen is just plain ridiculous fishpaste! I have many more things for you to do tonight and you wasted all your pathetic time looking for that pen."

i was embarrassed and ashamed of myself for wasting my Mistresses' valuable time. "Get over here! She motioned for me to come closer to where She was sitting. Stop Your pouting and go to the store and ... get ... Me ... a ... Sharpie ... pen!

i was in pain. with each word she dug and scratched my face with the sharp point of the pen She was wielding. the first two strikes drew some blood on both my nose and chin. She laughed as it dripped down my chin.

then emphasizing Her point some more, She hit me over the head with Her pen.
"do it quickly, or I will really give You something to whimper about, like kicking You hard in the balls, and don't forget the CD cases I asked for either"

i exited Her room and went to my car. i was happy and relieved to have gained some sort of saving face with my Mistress.

beneath Her Sneaks ... pleasure and torment

i am happy to say that service to my Mistress has become a daily occurrence, and one that is a definite necessity for me. i must say that i look forward to seeing my Mistress daily; doing Her bidding or just being close to her. it has promulgated a true sense of security and serenity for this fish. i am privy to my Mistress' many personalities and moods. She has become a real person in my life and daily i feel that W/we are learning and growing together. i am many times in awe of Her and the way She takes on the world and lives it on Her own terms. i see the strength she exudes and yet at the same time She is sensitive to the needs and wants of those around Her. i enjoy being in Her world and appreciate the opportunity to be an active participant.

Recently, my Mistress and i were working in Her office. Suddenly, She looked playfully at me and pointed to Her sneakered feet. like the obedient pet that i am i immediately took my place under the soles of Her Nikes. She commanded me to lick the bottom of Her sneakers and that i should do so by probing Her soles with the tip of my tongue. i did so with particular relish. i'm not sure, but i think the pleasure showed in my eyes as i felt the serrated hills and valleys with the tip of my tongue. She pressed in a bit harder and a bit further and rested Her foot on top of my mouth. suddenly, Her cell rang and She picked it up. it was Her Mother!! i tried to get up and slide away, but She would not allow me to. She jammed the sole of her sneakered foot down harder onto my face and began to grind the tread with fervor into my unprotected cheeks. it was painful! i moaned just a little and caught a quick glimpse of my Mistresses' eyes. She opened them wide and glared down at me while applying more pressure with Her right sneaker; flattening my head, i felt the instep of Her deep treads pull, tighten and pinch around the sensitive skin of the eye. it was excruciatingly painful and felt like a cheese grinder was shredding the skin of my face. the serrated edges making mincemeat of my countenance. my vision was distorted and i could only grimmace at the smiling face of my Mistress as She continued to talk laugh while at the same time applying a significant amount of leverage that made the bones of my skull painfully readjust to the pressure.

Her treads bit down hard into my face devouring my tender flesh and leaving little blood trails where the impact ripped and tore at the skin. oh how it hurt and stung! She continued to talk to Her Mother as if nothing had happened at all. She laughed and bantered with elements of small talk while crushing down on the hollow of my cheeks with Her lethal feet. i felt Her flex and release the ball of Her foot while simultaneously curling Her toes inside those sneakers. the motion was like that of sawing and i could not move at all with the force she was now applying to my poor flattened head. it felt as if She was going to bear down and rip my head in half. the pain was quite unbearable and i let out a tiny whimper and a gasp. but, at that moment i knew i had crossed the threshold of disobedience.

i can only imagine the conversation.
"What was that sound I just heard", asked Her Mother.
"Oh, that? That was nothing. Just something You heard from the kids playing outside. Nothing at all." replies my Mistress.

They resumed their conversation, but i can tell that my Mistress is ratcheting my torment up to another level. while holding Her cell in one hand, She gingerly reaches down and adjusts my head so it is level with that of the toe of Her right sneaker. She glares down at me again and then jams the toe of Her sneaker forcefully into my mouth, smiling and talking while simultaneously gesturing with Her fingers to Her lips for me to be quiet. i mumble a bit and try to dislodge Her foot, but She only presses it in deeper and locks my hands to my side with Her other foot to stop their interference. i can feel the serrated edges of the sneaker against my tongue. my mouth is lodged wide open as She presses in further forcing my mouth to open more. i can feel the toe of Her foot almost touching the back of my throat and i feel a gag reflex coming on, but am able to stifle it. my eyes narrow and well up with tears as i feel another gag reflex coming on. this time i choke a gag a bit, but this just gives Her more leeway to further torment. the taste of iron fills my mouth. i am now bleeding from Her scrapping the inside of my mouth with Her hard sneakers. She grabs my head and wiggles Her foot to make more room in my overtaxed mouth. the muscles of my jaws are sore and burning. surely, the next movement forward will certainly dislocate it. i try to look pleadingly up into my Mistresses' green eyes. She smiles knowingly, but shakes Her head. i now can feel the toe of Her foot lodged past my tongue and brushing against my larnyx. i feel faint and things start to go dizzy.

then, just as quickly as the torture began, She clicks off Her cell and removes Her size 8 from my mouth. She takes my chin in Her palm looks me directly in the eye and says.

"When I say be quiet pet, that is exactly what I mean and want. Maybe next time You will pay attention, so W/we will not have to repeat this exercise again." She is quite stern with me and it makes me feel worse. how i hate displeasing Her. it is more than i can bear.

i manage to say yes Mistress and massage my almost sprung jaw. She strokes the side of my face and allows me to rest my head comfortably in Her lap.

"now, don't pout ... go get me a glass of water and lets continue working."
She says while reviewing the files on Her laptop. Her voice is calm and soothing to me.

i move quickly to fulfill Her request. W/we both go back to work and it is as if the incident never happened.

a dominated and kinky holiday to all

hmmm ... i wonder what happened here? did the jolly, old, fat man in the red suit get caught red handed in Mistress' panty drawer, or better yet did Mrs. Claus catch him hanging mistletoe somewhere he had no business being.

or ...

did he put these two Dominatrixes on the naughty list once too often. once would of been enough; Y/you know? it would be interesting to see what happens next. ah well, that is why i have a vivid fantasy life.

happy holidays to all You kinksters out there.
enjoy the subtle delights of this season and everything it offers to being beaten.

as for me, i intend to get smashed.
in more ways than one. *wink* ;-)

fishpaste

a great smother story

this was a story that i found on the "Diana the Valkyries" website written by an author known as Taz who authored the Sarah Surridge Assassin series. it is filled with mental images of asphyxia, suffocation and profound female domination. it left my heart pounding hard and placed me in an aroused state after reading it. i can only imagine the feelings of helplessness and terror the boy felt as his tormentress toyed with him and slowly but deliberately snuffed the life out of him. enjoy, fishpaste

Teenage Beginnings

Gracefully Sarah climbed over the fence to the yard on the other side.
Yes, she was a burglar and a professional one as well. Her targets were
mainly families in the upper middle class, and when she was sure they
had left their home she struck, quickly emptying the house of all
valuables she could find. Sitting in her car she had noticed earlier
this day how the members of the family packed their Volvo with bags
and drove off, apparently to their vacation somewhere far away from
here. Now it was night and time to get to work.

She wore black clothes, consisting of a tight top stretching to contain her
ample
cleavage complimented by shiny black sheer tights and soles, partially
because
it made her less likely to be discovered in the dark and partially because
it made her feel a bit sexy; burglars can be vane too. The job should be
easy,so
she didn't bother covering her face. Her shoulder length shiny blonde hair
melted fine into
the rest of her tanned pretty face. Sarah began picking the lock of the back
door
and succeeded almost immediately. These people were real suckers, from
her inspections of the house earlier she learnt that they didn't even
have a proper security system. It was as if a red carpet had been laid
out for her, she thought and smiled.

Well inside the house Sarah was a bit disappointed at how easy
everything had gone so far. Maybe they didn't have that much to
protect here after all. She sure hoped this wasn't going to be another
dead end job for her. As her mind wandered she went into the kitchen
and was suddenly startled. Standing by the open refrigerator was a
young teenage boy, in the nude, still half asleep and with a big
hardon. Fuck! she thought, there shouldn't be anyone here by now.
Who's he? The boy turned and looked at her, still sleepy and not
completely sure where he was and what was happening.

"W-who are you?" he mumbled, trying to come to his senses.

Shit, I have to think fast, Sarah thought. He'd seen her face and she
couldn't leave a witness here; too much was at stake. She ran to the
boy and wrestled him to the floor, he didn't offer much resistance.
I've gotta kill him, was all she could think as her adrenaline rushed.
Fumbling a bit she managed to put her right, gloved hand over his surprised
mouth whilst twisted his neck to the right as hard as she could,
just like they did in the movies.

Crack!

Something broke in there and he started to wriggle and quiver under
her, his face was screwed up in pain. A perverted part of her enjoyed
kneeling over this rather nice looking boy, watching him struggle with
this. She examined him more closely in the light from the
refrigerator, lying completly on top of him, her face in his with her
shiny blonde hair hanging down around his face.

The kid had a slim hairless body, not too muscular but still athletic
in a way. His face was free from the pimples that seemed to bother so
many teens and was kind of cute, especially his rather long eyebrows
lent him a sensitive and thoughtful look. Thick, dark brown hair.
What a sweet little boy, Sarah thought.

"ahh sorry hunny but I cant leave you..ssssh" Sarah sympathetically
whispered into his terrified eyes whilst playfully biting his nose

She gently ran her hand across the dying youth's chest, feeling him
shiver and twist as the nerves of his body not quite were in contact
with his brain anymore. His eyes were sad and she could guess the pain
and horror he must feel. It turned her on. She was lying lay herself
on top of him, softly stroking his face with her hand. His skin was
smooth and soft. Positioning her lips at his mouth, she removed her hand
and drove in her tongue and began playing with his.

"You're so cute, do you know that?" she whispered playfully into his
ear. He replied with a gurgling sound and she smiled with her big blue eyes
into his very worried ones.

Caressing his smooth skin she suddenly heard a noise behind her. Realising
she had to act fast, she turned back to the boy and savagly chopped his
adams
apple causing him to convulse. Unable to call for help, Sarah quickly rose
and tip toed to the back door and carefully peered out. It was just a cat
using the metal bin to get onto the fence. Sarahs heart was racing and she
took
a deep breath for a moment in relief

She carefully closed the back door and locked it, trapping the boy inside.
When
she returned to him, she was stunned to find he had managed to get his
mobile phone
out with his other working arm and had apparntly dialled!!! His desperate
eyes locked onto
hers as she raced toward him!!

He was trying to speak into the mouthpiece but nothing was coming out, due
to his
collapsed trachea from Sarahs lucky blow. Like lighting, she kicked the
phone out of his hand
and pushed him onto the floor with her left soled foot, as he tried in vain
to grab
for the phone just out of his reach

Sarah simply sat on his face, her sheer tights encased sex covering his nose
and mouth. She sighed contentedly and wriggled her hips, settling down
solidly onto him. Sarah reached down to the phone, sealing him in his
airtight tomb
She could hear someone on the other end and literally held her breath so as
not
to respond, her cleavage rising up. Bringing the phone close to her, she
looked down at the display,
she could see the number he had dialled, '999'

"Hello??..Please respond?" was the monotone emergency operators voice

The boy had desperatly managed to twist his head to the right and gasp in
some
oxygen, his petrified face bright red from the suffocation and tears
streming
down his face. Sarah smiled down at him as she countered his move by drawing
her thighs toghther around his head
,immobilising it and forcing his face deep into her thighs, squeezing his
nose and mouth into her
and once again cutting off his oxygen supply. Sarah had maintained eye
contact throughout
and that was all that was now visable of his face now. She gently pendulemed
her head from left
to right in a 'uh uh' biting her bottom lip slightly, smiling down into his
frantic eyes
whilst at the same time gently pressing the red 'hangup' button on his
mobile phone
keypad using her long shiny red fingernail

"no you dont you Fucker!" she jokily spourted out with a stunning smile

His hands were feebly clawing and sliding uselessly off Sarahs sheer tights
encased
thighs as she turned the phone off and slide it under the fridge. She now
grabbed his
hands and adjusted until she caught his fingers in hers, linking them
toghther

Sarah doesnt say anything as he silently screamed into her, harmlessly
vibrating through
her body. She drags his hands with her and forces them onto her lap, right
into
her midsection so there was no escape, learning forward into the life
sapping facesit,
her shiny blonde hair hangs down around her pretty facia, her big blue eyes
locked
sexily onto his petrified ones staring back, a smirk plays on her face, her
brillant
white teeth beginning to show as his screams become more consistent, Sarah
squeezes
his hands tightly

Another couple of minutes of stifled asphiaxation has him out of air and
left desperately trying
to suck through Sarahs thighs for oxygen unsuccessfully her pretty blonde
eyes still fixed on his
as his lungs screamed for air, he felt his strength ebb of him, and weakly
tried to turn his head,
to avoid her mocking gaze, but her thighs tightened around his head, and he
could only stare
into her beautiful eyes

Several minutes have passed and her young victim is squirming under her
desperate to be free from her
suffocating grip then with a last shudder he lay lifeless under her

Sarah adjusted her grips on his hands from his fingers to his wrists
simultanusly and felt for his pulse..
it was faint and erratic..then parted her thighs ever so slightly to see his
eyes barely open but enough
for him to see her wink at him

"sssh..iss ok babe!" she coyly matter of factly whispered to him

Sarah squeezed her thighs around his face again before taking a deep breath
and looked up to the ceiling,
running her hands through her hair, so uncaring about his situation she
actually forgot she was sitting on a boy
who she didnt even know, broken into his house and had all but suffocated
him to death in her thighs, when she finally
came back to reality before giving an almighty squeeze of her curvy thighs
around his face again
She parted he thighs a little more this time to see if he was really dead,
ready to trap him again in her legs if he was
acting..he wasnt. His face was pale and a look of petrification covered his
facia. Sarah tilted her head slightly almost sympathetically and ran her
hand through his hair, it was cold and wet

She began to wonder who he was; this house was supposed to be empty. Sarah
released
his clammy hands noting them bounce off her black thighs before resting on
the ceramic
cold kitchen floor.

As she closed the refrigerator she noticed a note stuck to its door.
Picking up her flashlight she read it.

Hi Tom!


Too bad you didn't want to come with us to the
family reunion, I'm sure all your relatives would
have wanted to congratulate you on your recent 18th
birthday. Anyway, there's food in the fridge and
we'll be back on Monday. Have fun!

With a smile Sarah took the note and placed it on the kid's forehead.
She began to search the house for items of value, She found his birthday
present, a gold
watch. Walking out to her car smiling. 18 years old, she thought, he sure
looked young for his age. But what a cutie!

how to serve a Mistress

i was in a chat room a week ago among some other male submissives and the subject came up as to what is the best way to serve one's Mistress? we tossed the subject to and fro and i was surprised at the responses i heard. one guy felt that he should not have to serve his Mistress. indeed he felt as if he was doing everything by presenting his body as a living sacrifice to her needs, whims and wants. i pressed him and asked him if She had asked him to do anything for Her. his reply was yes, but for the most part he enjoyed doing the opposite of what was requested, because it "got Her mad and frustrated and in the long run, he received a a more lethal beating". i considered this a sam (smart assed submissive) response and raised the question to myself. how does one serve his Mistress?

i am appalled that some submissives feel that the best way to serve their Mistresses is to do what is minimally required of them. they expect to be spanked or beaten with their bare asses swaying in the air, craving attention for a shitty, half, assed job which should receive no recognition or physical attention from their Mistress.

i am the opposite in this regard. i so enjoy serving my Mistress. i want to make Her life easier and more fluid so She can concentrate on being a more complete person. whatever She asks of me, i do so gladly and willingly. i expect no punishment or beating in return, but i do appreciate the little pokes, kicks, jabs and punches She manages to dole out along the way.

i enjoy being a positive force in my Mistresses life and having the ability to straighten and organizing the world around Her gives me a true sense of serving and creative purpose. i want Her living quarters to be organized, neat and orderly. She should not have to hunt for clothing or vital documents. Her surroundings should be as clean and uncluttered as possible so She may focus on governing and maintaining Her empire.

i appreciate the trust that She has vested in me in regard to serving Her with running errands, buying groceries, or making deposits at Her bank. the level of trust and transparency between a Mistress and Her slave cannot be taken for granted nor underestimated. indeed, i have heard of relationships in which the submissive knows the needs of His Mistress so well that he has developed the uncanny ability of knowing exactly what She requires or wants before She even speaks of it. it is my hope to have that level of communication with my Mistress.

also in terms of service, chemistry between a Mistress and Her submissive is a key element to balancing and learning from one another. the needs of both must be focused upon and considered, but it is the role of the submissive to accept the dominance and jurisdiction of His Mistress over certain areas of His life. hopefully with time, new levels of intimacy can be developed and combined with the submissive willingly giving over to His Mistress new areas of control. She will use these to satiate Her dominant appetite; to subjugate him and then totally absorb Him into Her world as a part of Her that She can not do without.

i believe this to be the penultimate goal of a balanced, superior, female dominated relationship.

ballbusted and thrown in the bushes

i was recently privileged to accompany my Mistress to an Applebees for a late night libation. She had a rough day with circumstances beyond Her control and had a full blown headache. while driving Her home from a meeting i picked up that She might want to relax a bit before facing the rigors of Her household. i made a pitstop to grab some ibuprofen and then we headed inside to Applebees.

She ordered an Applebee's Mojo and washed down a couple of the gelcaps. We/we talked about everything from politics to Her aspirations. it was good to see Her relax, eat some food and continue to taunt me with any kind of available torture device at Her disposal.

several times she deliberately stuck a straw up my nose and doused me with water from it. forks and knives were used frequently to poke and prod me. She giggled mischievously as She probed me for "doneness". eventually, the alcohol and the meds had begun to magnify the effect. She became more brazen and nailed me relentlessly under the table, striking my groin with the strong ball of Her foot and grinding my testicles into jelly with Her heavily treaded sneakers.

i suppose i brought the pain on myself saying.

"Mistress, You just can't hurt me or do anything to me with Your feet. i'm wearing my boots tonight."

She smiled appreciatively, picked up her cocktail and dangled one long finger over the edge of the glass, then with a furtive glance She bore Her sneakered Nikes again full force under the table into my unprotected groin. She locked them there hard, and continued to press. i immediately experienced intense pain and felt like keeling over. the force of Her kick startled me. i began to experience a slight tinge of nausea and it was as if my balls had climbed up into my throat and had taken permanent residence there. i grabbed the edge of the table and hoped that the waves of queasiness would pass. they did after awhile, and luckily She removed Her foot off my crotch.

"don't ever tell me what i can, and cannot do fishpaste." She glared at me while poking playfully with a fork aiming for a nose, eyeball or whatever presented itself as a tempting target.

the rest of the evening was relaxing and enjoyable. with the exception of a poke, pinch or jab. i seemed to have survived the experience.

after paying the bill, W/we headed out the door. W/we were walking by some bushes when all of a sudden She lunged sideways and leaned quite heavily into me while leveraging Her powerful thighs and legs into my side. i had nothing to do but topple and fall into and on top of some privet bushes. what was more humiliating is that She executed this move so effortlessly that it appeared that i was nothing more than that of a flimsy rag doll to topple at Her whim. what was worse was the moment that She chose this humiliating move. there i was, right smack in front of 2 full cars of people. how utterly humiliating!

"oh man!" i heard one of the guys say. "did you see that? She's gonna kick his ass!" i heard one man loudly announce.

"uh huh! man! She opened up a can of Whup ass on him".

they laughed and joked at my suspense and my Mistress did so too saying. "awwww i know i didn't hit You that hard and you looked absolutely ridiculous ... very amusing though for me." She stood over me mocking my physical ineptness.

I brushed off the underbrush from my rear end and made my way to the car. i could still hear their suffocating laughter and manic snickering. it did bother and embarrass me at first to think that my Mistress could easily toss me around, and throw me down at will, but i decided to try to grow from the experience. the important thing was She was laughing, giggling and having a good time. that was all that was important to me. i wanted to serve her and make sure She was content and happy; at least for the moment.

i must include this pertinent afterthought; in that i was overwhelmingly relieved that this little episode did not take place near a steep cliff. whew!

Santa Self Defense Tips

a kick in the balls holiday spoof.

Scissors in CHUCK_s01ep09.flv

a slight painful detour for a one track mind

stating the obvious

as a frail middleschooler i remember being frequently harassed and bullied by kids bigger and stronger than me. many times i was the target of packs of girls who delighted in "scrubbing" me with lipstick and writing sadistic epithets all over my face. of course it didn't help that my Mom insisted that i look like a "poster child for nerd abuse". She insisted that i dress like a dork with "high water" pants and that i carry a briefcase to classes. i cannot tell you the times that i ended up in the trashcan or my head in the toilet after an unannounced beatdown from female and male bullies alike.

my Mistress many times takes me back to those painful memories which have become so ingrained in my subconscious that they are fodder for fetish fantasies. last night She kept me firmly under Her sneaks all night long and then humiliated and poked fun at me by writing and drawing all over my face. i don't know why, but it was healing for me. frequently, i had to duck Her lethal rights and lefts. one of Her favorite sayings when dealing with me is, "you're flinching again fishpaste." "stop flinching or i'll give You something to truly flinch about." With that She balls up Her fist, takes a fighter's stance and in slow-mo launches a powerful and perfectly placed lethal, eye bruising punch into my right eye. of course, my face is also a roadmap from the pokes, indentations and scratches She leaves all over my countenance from Her sharp nails. yet,regardless of the pain, punishment and ridicule i undergo for Her sadistic urges, i also feel the affection and appreciate so much the attention that She so willingly gives.

Happy belated incarcerated Thanksgiving

i have been quite busy serving my Mistress and attending to her needs and wants and have not been able to update my blog. i am not complaining. it has been a fantastic and wonderful week with Her! just wanted to wish all you perverted kinksters out there a wonderful, enjoyable holiday. perhaps one day i will receive a comment in regard to my postings from one of Y/you. ;) enjoy your holiday.

Girl beats up superman (animation)

this is an older animation, but hilarious in which a Girl literally uses superman as nothing more than a punching bag or one of those punching clowns. Her leg strength would have to be phenomenal to accomplish this. however, i imagine a skilled gymnast with wrestling technique could pull it off quite easily.

dimples from my Mistress

i recently was summoned to do some work at my Mistresses lair. lately She has called me back to work for Her on a number of occasions. i am always happy and elated to do so. it is such a joy to be able to give Her something back in return for all She has done for me. i recently finished doing some cleaning for Her and was preparing to leave. She gave me one of Her excruciatingly tight bear hugs and was preparing to dismiss me. i looked into her penetrating green eyes and then saw Her mischievous grin. framed beautifully by a long strand of hair and accentuated by her teasing smile was a wonderful cute dimple. I exclaimed, "Mistress where did You get such a cute dimple?" She then grabbed my cheeks and pinched them hard while simultaneously slapping the pink out of them. "Awwwwwww, wouldn't You like to know pet? Hmmmm ... i have a better idea. lets give you some." with that she cupped my head in Her hands and bore down insanely hard with Her thumbs, digging and boring Her thumbnails into the sides of my cheeks. it hurt like hell and caused my eyes to water a bit. "Mmmmmmm" ... She said. now you have a matching pair of dimples too. just like Me." She then booted me out the door and i felt the stinging in the sides of my cheeks. as soon as i got home i rushed into the bathroom to see Her marks. sure enough, there they were. the dimples. perfectly balanced on either side of my face. they lasted well into the week. i got many comments from their sudden appearance. i just calmly said, "i cut myself shaving." so far this has worked.

gives new meaning to the term "lifesaver"

cock Huntress ... he knew She was into edge play, but didn't know how extreme.

*(gulp) he found Her boxing gloves ... a premonition of His imminent beatdown

Vice Squad Vixens: Busted!

unbelievable! can You imagine getting clobbered with some of those backfists!? sheer Femdomme strength and wrecking ball punches! i think i heard his nuts crack after she poped them like water balloons! excellent fight choreography!

lol! have a wicked Happy Halloween all Y/you kinksters!

om Goddess! ... revenge, bonebreaking beatdown, domination, edgeplay, cutting reparte and blood. who could ask for anything more? ;)

Hot Girl Destroys Her Opponent - Click here for this week’s top video clips

Poser Soccer Kick ... i love this!

would of been great to see Her launch his head into orbit with a bit of projectile producing gore, but still an awesome kick!

the encounter ... a run in the park ... chamber a kick ... an unexpected ooki :)

edge play ... a gender reversal of roles and fates ...

can you imagine holding the camera when all of a sudden ...

how in the world does she kick so high? i would be Her kicking bag. She could kick me with Her sneaks. ;) ~sushichum~

Wonder Woman: Top, Bottom or Poly?

There's more to this sexually self-determining super-hero.
Published on September 3, 2010 by David J. Ley, Ph.D. in Women Who Stray

One of the best stories of an empowered, sexually-liberated woman and wife is found not in, but behind, the pages of comic books.

Wonder Woman - sexy and liberated - but not monogamous?
Elizabeth "Sadie" Holloway Marston (1893-1993) married William Marston in 1915. Elizabeth had already completed a Bachelor's degree in psychology from Mt. Holyoke, and then attended Law School at Boston University. Elizabeth worked throughout her life, in the executive administration of a life insurance company, and as an editor of law journals, and lecturer in psychology and law. So where's the sex? The kink? The comic books?

Elizabeth's husband was a psychologist, and inventor of some of the technology behind the polygraph, or lie detector, that measured physiological responses as a way to detect falsehoods. William also once gave an influential interview to one of his female students, Olive, describing that he saw comic books as something important, valuable and new. That interview led to William getting attention from comic book publishers. William later developed an idea for a new kind of comic book superhero, one who would use powers of love, truth and honesty to prevail. At Elizabeth's recommendation, her husband proposed the character as a female, and Wonder Woman (originally known as "Suprema") was born.

Growing up, I had a thing for Wonder Woman. I'm partial to brunettes, and Linda Carter in the '70s was the best thing on television, as far as I was concerned. Funnily enough, my wife (a brunette) says that she loved Linda Carter's role as well, because in the days of Farrah Fawcett, there weren't a lot of brown-haired women being put forth as beautiful, strong and sexy. Wonder Woman became a favorite of my wife, and many other dark-haired young women, who wanted to see themselves as beautiful, without the help of Clairol's Nice n Easy Honey Blonde hair color.

But, imagine my surprise when I found out that Wonder Woman's character had a kinky, sexy, past. No, not on that island of Amazonian women that Wonder Woman hailed from, but in the home of William and Elizabeth Marston. With Elizabeth's consent and support, William brought his former student, Olive Byrne, into their home, where she lived with Elizabeth and William as their wife. William had children with both Olive and Elizabeth, and he and Elizabeth formally adopted his children by Olive.

Elizabeth and William Marston

William was a strong supporter of feminist ideals, and female empowerment. In many of the early Wonder Woman comic books, Wonder Woman encourages women to stand up for themselves, to learn to fight, and be strong, so they don't have to be scared, or depend on men. William also described that while female nature was inherently submissive, the world might be a better place if women ruled the world, and that men love to submit to a strong, powerful and alluring woman.

What sorts of submission went on in the Marston bedroom? Surprisingly, details of this unconventional relationship have never been publicly revealed, and even more surprisingly, the family's privacy has been appropriately respected. Even as they worked and lived in very socially conservative times and places, in the Northeast United States, New York and Boston, this nonmonogamous, non-vanilla marriage was regarded as pleasant and refreshing, though somewhat naïve by peers.

Early Wonder Woman comics were filled with depictions of women in bondage, bound, stripped, gagged and tortured. Wonder Woman ended up strapped-down and tied up in almost every episode. But she always broke free. Wonder Woman's appearance, statuesque, brunette, strong and wearing thick, manacle-like bracelets, is supposedly modeled after Olive. So, it's not hard to imagine that perhaps Olive, who didn't work, and stayed home caring for the family's children, was a "bottom," or submissive, in the relationship. But then, who was the top?

Elizabeth was an independent, take-no-shit woman throughout her life. A delightful article from her alma mater, Boston University, describes her granddaughter saying that Elizabeth often told her, "Angel child, never, never be beholden to any man, ever." Elizabeth was already independent and educated, when she married William. And in fact, though her husband got a lot of glories, his stability seems to have been a bit questionable. He hopped from job to job, and actually was unemployed for many years, the family completely supported by Elizabeth.

William died in 1947, and Elizabeth continued to work until 1958, supporting herself, Olive, and their children, and putting all of their children through college. Olive passed away in the late '90s, and Elizabeth herself lived to be a 100, passing away in 1993. It is this part of the story that almost brings tears to my eyes. This powerful, strong-willed and sexy woman, never bowed down to society, to gender-stereotypes, or to social expectations of marriage, and was the matriarch, caregiver and breadwinner for her entire family, for nearly 50 years. Wow. Now that's wonderful. And she did all this decades before feminism, sexual liberation or equal rights were even on the horizon.

Was Elizabeth gay? Bisexual? Was she a top? A bottom or a switch? Did she live with Olive as a wife, a lover, a submissive, or merely a sister? Did Elizabeth dominate both Olive and her husband? Or was Elizabeth one of those powerful, dominant personalities who gain some measure of peace and momentary escape by being submissive, to Olive or to William during sex? Was sadomasochistic play a part of their lives, or merely a part of William's fantasy?

These are marvelous unanswered questions. And they're provocative questions (which should probably remain unanswered), not for the salacious details, but to celebrate the life and success of a wondrously admirable and empowered woman. Elizabeth, with all this delightful kink, is a marvelous role model for the ability to be a sexually self-determining wife, mother, lover, leader, lawyer, psychologist, executive, writer and teacher. You too can live a life of marital and sexual nonconformity, but still be successful, loving, and respected. William might have invented Wonder Woman, and might even have made the character look like Olive, but it was Elizabeth "Sadie" Holloway Marston who lived the life of Wonder Woman, not by fighting crime, but by being strong, unbroken, loving, and true to herself and loved ones.

omg! what a f#%^$g beatdown!

om Goddess! one can only dream ... can Y/you imagine being on the giving or the receiving end? i'll take my chances and receive ;)

squish, squash ... putting the kabosh on those pesky little men!

this photo shop manipulation is amazing of Kim Kardashian working out and squishing the guts out of the paparazzi who have tormented Her so of late. a great Femdomme comment even down to the bloody sneaker tread marks on the gym floor. i had to watch this 2 or three times. enjoy ~sushichum~

Female intuition and multi-tasking ... pass the dunce cap please

upon meeting for the first time i always marvel at the speed of female perceptiveness and intuition. how do they know? how do they know that on the outside we are composed models of respectability, yet on the inside we are with jaws agape, bug eyed slobbering fools, paralyzed by their physical beauty, or stymied by their superior intellect or stopped dead in our tracks by the way they can virtually "walk and chew gum" at the same time. i am blown away by Women and their uncanny, inhuman ability to multi-task.

Recently, i watched an attractive coiffed brunette woman at Starbucks texting, chatting on the phone and surfing the web on her laptop. if that wasn't enough, She then proceeded to remove her sandals, open her purse, take out some nail polish and give herself a touchup to Her pedi all the while reading magazine. it was almost more that i was able to handle, and i could not believe that in and of itself would cause me to go hard.  but, embarassingly enough it did. men do one thing at a time. slowly, methodicaly we git'er done, but most of the time we are left like Wile E. Coyote in a cloud of dust while our wives, girlfriends, or Mistresses sprint ahead doing six things at once to our pathetic one. it is a cruel joke that nature played on men. it is as if women were given 8 arms to our megar two.

oddly enough, there are female Goddesses and diety's who are portrayed with more than one appendage. this is particularly true in Hinduism, where the form and the mind of the woman is celebrated, exalted and considered vastly superior to that of hindu mortal men. one has only to look at the vast collection of video's and movies which openly celebrate and acknowledge the power that women have been given divinely over men. Also viewing the images of Kali, Lakshmi, Durga etc ... one can easily see that hinduism already knew that women were vastly superior and could effectively castrate a man while quieting a crying baby. yikes .../ slice.

it is sad but true. many researcher point out that males use a much smaller percentage of our brains than that of our superior female counterparts. women are naturally wired to live in this technology dependent multi-tasking society. they have done multi-tasking for years and are now supremely proficient at it. from cooking while tending children to writing that accounts receivable report while shopping for her bosses wife's birthday. Women are masters at doing nine or twelve things at once. it is very easy to add control and dominance to the mix in regard to managing and overpowering the men in their lives. women are natural requisite managers from the boardroom, bedroom and dungeon. they know how to crack the whip while at the same time create and initiate a new ad campaign and nurture a wounded friend. always 10 steps ahead of their male counterparts who struggle seemingly to 
men pee+multitasking pics on Sodahead

aim, pee and brush their teeth at the same time. while sad but true, this commentary is something else to ponder... any thoughts on this?

speedbag #2 ... the fantasy

oh to be Her speedbag … I thought … to have my head somehow attached to a swivel. to have my face shaded brown with dark vertical lines drawn as seams. to have the words Everlast or Otomix inked across my forehead. to watch Her put on Her training gloves and take a fighters stance in front of me. pat my face and commence to strike and hit my face with an uncanny rhythm. Left, right, left, right, left, right. She hits and smacks me hard with target driven precision. It stings and hurts at first.i feel my face begin to swell. I feel her fists accelerating and moving from my cheeks up towards my nose. She peppers me with well coordinated punches and I feel my nose begin to enlarge and my left eye close. She is moving faster now and my head is moving at her physical whims. obeying Her fists moving in Her elliptical orbit. My ears are ringing now and I feel the swelling around my right occipital socket swell and bulge grotesquely. i start to tear tremendously. i feel the tears streaming down my cheeks, and now Her punches have become blurs. it is like watching an old fashioned movie with faster and faster shutter speeds. i groan and grimace, but She is not finished yet. She begins to employ the use of Her elbows. I have no navigational control as to where my face lands. I am smacked and the back of my head bounces to hit the back board and then return to do it again. my lips are fat, cut and bleeding the swelling increases until I look like a distorted witch doctor’s enlarged voodoo doll. Numbness in my jaw now sets in as She continues to work my face over, and over. I can no longer see. She has effectively shut down both of my eyes. They are horribly swollen and look like the slits of a poorly carved jack-o-lantern. My head is reeling and I now feel nothing except the constant slap slap slap of Her fists as She rips into my mouth and nose. my head is now nothing more than a vomitous, gore ball. blood and brown goo of an undetermined substance drip up into my matted hair. What was once a head with features looks like a half chewed mangled bloody pustule. blood is splattered and speckled everywhere. Her gloves are stained and bloody, and there is tenderized, gorey, bloody, bits and pieces of me on her face. She smiles and breathing heavy She hangs on my head. blowing a wisp of hair out of Her penetrating green eyes She pats my puffy, bloody face with Her wrapped hand. “Whew!” you were good tonight pet! Damn fucking amazing! She comes over and rests Her head on my shoulder patting whats left of my cheek and poking each swollen area like a chef using her nails to skewer for for complete doneness. “you will have some wonderful marks to remember me by pet.” She throws Her beautiful black hair back back, kisses my forehead and begins removing Her wraps. “make sure You wash these well for me… ok pet” She drapes them over my head and says “such a good speedbag. Now where is that bentadine? Somewhere under all my knots, welts, cuts. scrapes and bruises, i try to smile.

speedbag #1 a memory triggered ...

i did something crazy after work today. i'm not sure why i did it except, that i'm sure it has to do with a very powerful fetish that took me over during the last hours of work yesterday. i was stopping by kinkos to get some copies made and i noticed a kickboxing and boxing gym nearby. from the corner of my eye i could see a svelte young woman walloping the bejeezers out of a speedbag. i craned to get a closer look and from what i could see She seemed to be in her mid 20s or early thirties. long hair tied up in a pony tail, wearing boyshorts and a sportsbra. i gulped hard as i marvelled at the speed, repetition and the control She exhibited smacking the leather. i watched as She smacked the ball very hard and then laughed while she was toweling herself and joking with another women who was working the heavy bag. Suddenly, I felt her eyes hit mine. She gazed right at me. like a scared rabbit i dashed into the kinkos to make my copies. i was afraid of making eye contact with Her again for fear that She might consider me a stalker or worse yet a pervert.

i waited in line to have my special copies made and found myself breathing a bit hard and my heart was thrumming out of my chest.

"oh had She seen me?" i puzzled.

i reflected on another experience from my youth in which i was soundly thrashed, beaten up and pummeled for what can only be construed to be misunderstood admiration at the corner of feminism awakening and comic book fantasizing. i collided full head on with the fists and kidney punching kicks of a female Bruce Lee. i recalled how i had tried to explain that i had Her raised on a pedestal and that i loved watching her move with fluidity performing graceful katas with unbelievably high kicks and lightning speed chops and punches. but somewhere between having a cut bleeding fatlip from Her formidable punches, to having the stuffing kicked out of me from roundhouse after roundhouse, my noble efforts were bludgeoned and muddled.i found it incredibly difficult to communicate my intentions when everytime i attempted i met Her cute pedicured feet or well manicured fist in my mouth. i ended up speaking in bloody gasps, and bruised gorey utterances which seemed indistinguishable and primative as the indiscernable grunts and groans of a drunk wasted man. i went home a puffy, beaten mess. my eyes blackened, thighs and ribs were black, blue and incredibly sore from constant, continual kicking. looking back, i was grateful that i still had all my remaining upper and lower teeth. i never ventured again to that intersection of femdomme and beaten down avenue. it was too traumatic to relive what happened on that bright sunny April afternoon. yet, following that horrible, humiliating and dominating beating, my submissive state was nailed securely in place by a pair of bloodied everlast pink wraps. I sought for years to soundly bury that part of me. the part which relished being beaten to a squashed cum stain under the fists of a vastly superior physically fit woman. i craved the blood, the pummeling the bruising and the jagged tongue lashings served cold with a heaping side helping of severe male inadequacy. in my vanilla life i wore a thespian's mask. for awhile, this covered the true or perceived persona of the real me. in actuality, i was in complete denial. i truly hungered to be fed, but in reality was starving the submissive man within me.

jumping in ...

hello everyone.  i especially want to welcome both Dominants and submissives to my page.  this is my first attempt at blogging and likewise my first post. i hope Y/you enjoy viewing my work and that Y/ou are able to  take something worthwhile away from studying it and viewing it. i am excited to share and to reflect on what i have learned and experienced in both the vanilla world and the bdsm one. please feel free to comment on my blog and to trackback as necessary.  i look forward to sharing future updates with Y/you. ~sushichum~

sneakered marks of belonging and approval

...as i bent down to straighten the mats on my floor my heart continued to pound. i felt terrible about going behind my Mistresses' back and playing with someone else who i thought could calm the fevers of my fetish. W/we hadn't said much to each other this evening and i could tell that She was highly amused by my obvious physical, shaken state of mind. yet, i was also confused by this behavior. i puzzled as i prepared the living room. my Mistress did not own me nor had She collared me. therefore, i felt like i had every right to go out and play with another Domme. however, i had not counted on the cleverness or intellect of my Mistress. She intended to semi punish me and at the same time reward me for this abroggation against Her. She arranged a session in which i would be be seriously beaten and taken apart by the other Mistress i had seen prior. thinking back, it was uncanny how she toyed with me and lured me in through Her fetish, laced, taunting text messages earlier during the day. i had not known that She had read the account of the session i had posted on the other Domme's web page. yet, it soon became apparent to me what She had in store for this wayward fish.

"well my fish, are you ready for O/our meeting?" She texted. I acknowledged as the plot began to reveal itself through our conversation.

" i want you to know that tonight will be the first time that i will share You with one of my dominant girlfriends." She continued, ..."She is quite skilled at martial arts and is very much looking forward to meeting with you." i feigned innocence and texted ..."gulp ...martial arts?" "expert" i stammered. "yes, my fish and i must say that you are in for one hell of a beating tonight." Her cryptic words sliced through me. She knew! somehow She knew! i suddenly felt queasy and sick to my stomach! i stammered through the texting a bit with "well ah..." She immediately shot back, "Whats that....hmmmmmmm?" i asked her for permission to call her on Her cell. i was happy and relieved that She granted it.

as W/we spoke on the phone i tried bravely to explain why i had done what i had done. i blubbered and whined like any sub who is caught in a cover-up would of. She listened intently, but was altogether too silent. She told me that She had read the post on the other Domme's blog and that She recognized immediately my style of writing. She also knew of my pathetic fetishes and put two and two together. "It all pointed to You my shaking fish." "Now, I am on my way to pick Her up." She spoke matter of factly. "I expect you to serve Me well by being Her ...hmmmm...how shall i say it? vastly inexperienced sparring partner." i knew immediately what She meant. i was going to be fish chum. i was silent ... scared and quite silent. She continued to tick off Her demands. "whats that? ... nothing to say ....awwww ... and here i though you would enjoy this?" Her mocking tone cut me down to size.
well i'm sure that You will be as respectful to Her as much as you are to me. i also expect to be entertained tonight you pathetic, silly fish." i suddenly knew what was about to happen. i asked my Mistress an inane question which the answer in and of itself was quite obvious. 'uh Mistress? about tonight ...." do you think i may need to cover my floor because of ... well You know?" "Whats that you squirmy fish? she spoke sharply back. "in case i bleed a little". She laughed. Not a giggle, and not a chortle, but a loud sarcastic belly laugh... "Oh yes ... there will be lots of blood and i intend to film every last drop. Now get a move on. W/we will be there shortly." *click*

as i bent down to straighten the mats on my living room floor my heart continued to pound. i was working on an over lap and looking towards the fireplace when all

of a sudden i winced in pain. i looked down at my hands. i saw a cute black and violet pair of size 8 Nike Air Pegasus' locked and bearing down on my hands. the pain and feeling of being trapped hurt, but it wasn't unbearable. i looked up into the bright green eyes of my Mistress. She was looking down at me smiling and i think approvingly. "Do you remember giving these to me?" She pointed to Her sneakers. i like them very much. i wear them often." She continued to gaze down at me, narrowed Her eyes and bore down even harder on my trapped hands. i felt the cartilage and bones in my hands shift uncomfortably and i knew that at any moment She could certainly break them and injure them very seriously. i was apprehensive, but somehow felt peace.

yet, at that moment i also knew in my heart that this was a symbolic sign on Her part, that no matter what happened tonight, i held some place of secondary significance in Her life as a submissive. She wanted me to know that without making a big scene. it was quite touching and intimate and memorable for me. She continued to bear down... this time even harder. i now felt the road eating black treads of Her Nike sneakers bite into my skin. my hands began to ache and sting. i stiffened up and my eyes watered. i looked up at Her as a solitary tear welled and ran down my cheek. satisfied with my response She removed the sneakers. upon lifting them up ... deep recessed areas of tread imprintings could be seen on the top of my hands. i struggled to get up. She smiled and said, "There, now that will leave some nice marks" i looked at my reddened, tread, gouged hands, suddenly and without warning i felt myself go quite hard. She gazed down at my embarrassed state and patted my cheek. "That's a good boy pet" as She walked back towards the kitchen, i beamed. this was the first time She had called me pet.

even though i knew i was headed for an excessively hard, violent beat down that night under the hands of another Mistress, i thought to myself. "i will walk through fire for You Mistress ... through fire ... if it indeed pleases You." -sushichum-