This story by Michelle is used on the Old Tom Archive with permission.
“You should never have agreed to be a god for me if you were afraid to assume the duties of a god, and we all know they aren’t as tender as all that.” — Pauline Reage
It was March of 1998 that I finally met C, who held the side of me that I called “my submissive side”. He stood as “perfection” in my eyes… eyes that were blindfolded by all that I had created him to be.
I still learned more about myself in the year that we were “together” than I had previously, but as I found out, he never really did agree to be a god; I had simply appointed him. And it’s easy now to look at the events and understand where my head was… and know the difference between what I had with him… and true submission.
True submission can only be found in the light of true Dominance. The kind of person who will take time to make you understand Respect, humility, truth, purity, love, and inner peace. Someone who accepts you for who you are, the way you are, but will help you stay on the path of what is right. (more…)
This story by The Flogmaster is used on the Old Tom Archive with permission.
A woman meets a sculptor with a unique talent.
At first I assumed he was lying. But his expression was sincere. My refusal crushed him, and I felt bad. His accent was foreign. He was modest about his art and without smiling said his name was Zolton. Giggling, I remarked that he sounded like a carnival magician. He glanced at me sharply, his thick eyebrows bunching into a glare.
“Do not joke about such things,” he said. “In my country magic and art are not far apart.”
For reasons I cannot fathom I followed him home. Be assured this not my normal habit. I am a modest girl with a good reputation. Perhaps the man’s dark, mysterious eyes captivated me. I couldn’t refuse. (more…)
This story by Elsie dePlume is used on the Old Tom Archive with permission.
Copyright 1997
Disclaimer: This is fiction.
He watched her as she took up the flask and a woven basket and disappeared down the path that led to the stream without a backward glance. She would not risk showing him her face; but her body told as much as her visage would have. Her posture spoke of resentment, her gait of irritation. There was no affection in her now.
He shifted carefully on the pallet of skins, cradling his injured arm, and tried to find a less uncomfortable position. This resentment toward him had been more and more apparent as the days had passed and his infirmity had not abated. There had always been moments of tension between them, of course — only one of them could be dominant, and in all family units the leader was tested on occasion; but she was no match for his size and strength, and the end of every skirmish had found her pinned, helpless, while his open hand reaffirmed his ascendancy on her roundest, tenderest region. She was fortunate, in his opinion, that he had never caused her serious injury. Some of his fellows were not so careful with their females. This worked to his own advantage, of course, for when such an unlucky female was rendered unusable and the former mate went looking for a replacement, the threat of capture by a more brutal male suddenly enhanced his own desirability in her eyes. (more…)
This story by babalon is used on the Old Tom Archive with permission.
tonight, my Master punched me.
first, he burned me on the inner thigh with his cigarette. then, he punched me right in the cunt. repeatedly.
he made me spread my knees so he could do it again.
i was laying on my back on the hard wood floor as he punched me, in the cunt, on my perineum, on my ass, punching me in the crotch, but mostly directly on my cunt. when i reacted by closing my knees, he dug his elbow into my clit while holding my thighs apart with his hand. then he punched me again. and again. hard.
i was worried about him bruising my pelvis a couple times, cuz he was hitting so hard.
afterward, he sent me off to do my bedtime chores — putting away perishables and setting up coffee for the morning.
mind you, he had to wait until after i came down from cumming <grin>, and clean up the puddle i had made from squirting repeatedly. <big grin> and fetch him a new tshirt to wear cuz i had soaked the one he was wearing and his glasses and his pants… <really big grin>
*babalon*
This story by babalon is used on the Old Tom Archive with permission.
over the holidays this year, we went to the Reindeer Munch at Tanith’s. we parked the kids at my cousins for the week and flew to SF, to stay with Leona Joy and Toby.
Leona is voluptuous, vivacious, and a wonderfully gracious hostess. Toby is cute, intelligent, and a sweetie. we got to meet Chastity, his newly marked slave (her tattoo is *just* awesome) and we also got to meet another gorgeous lady we’d corresponded wit. unfortunately, we also missed one of the folks who was waiting to meet us Saturday, because we got back from Tanith’s too late. bummers. (i’m avoiding naming folks cuz i’m not sure of their mediaslut status.) we scratched Levi’s butt a lot (he really *is* the incredible u-shaped dog) and Leona took us on the perv tour, where i spent way too much money… Leona and Toby did a lot to make us feel welcome and i appreciate their time and the use of their beautiful home. (Martha Stewart eat your heart out, Leona’s house could put yours to shame.)
Sunday before we left, we got to have breakfast with Verdant and Jay Wiseman. they’re really cool people. Verdant is kinda quiet but sez intelligent things when she talks. Jay is more talkative but seems just as knowledgeable in person as on the net. i’m hoping they can make it up here sometime so we can spend more time. (more…)
This story by huny is used on the Old Tom Archive with permission.
As instructed by my Master, i have written a piece about the past year in my life, the changes brought about by my submission in this Real time relationship. Our intention was to post it in SSS. However, due to the flaming that continues there, i am reluctant to spill something so personal out where ill-minded and mean spirited people lurk. i also do not wish to be challenged about my feelings or views. i am not an authority on anything or anyone but myself. But i do wish to share as does He. i love the conversation sparked by such revelations.
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A year ago, a lifetime ago We placed our hearts in each other’s hands and entrusted each other to care for, nurture, and heal the mangled organ we each held. Mine now only aches with love and passion and I look and see that Yours beats strong also. We did good, Master. We found the right One this time. We fit together walking. (more…)
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