My Second Life

Second Life (SL) is fantastic place. Everyone is beautiful and has all the time in the world and you don't have to worry about cleaning and buying food and cooking other such things. It is a place to be bold and daring and try out some of the fantasies you have. And I can tell you, there is plenty of room for that.

I have my avatar in SL and we (my avatar and I) indulge in all sorts of naughty pursuits. Most women I have met are tall, tanned and have big bosoms (perhaps they are all men in Real Life (RL)). Except me, I am short, pale and not very well equipped. You can, of course, change you appearance all the time and some people thrive on that but I have come to like my avatar as she is. I am even so short that I am sometimes mistaken for a child which may cause problems regarding the kind of activities I indulge in.

I have no face to lose and no standing in SL that may suffer from me behaving badly. I considered a job as a stripper in a club but was too short for that. Besides some setbacks there is a lot of fascinating and fun things to do in SL.

I do leave my grumpy self in RL and I become far more humble and submissive as I enter SL. I have got myself a mistress, well, actually, I have two. It is a little complicated, my second mistress is my first mistress' mistress. Did you get it? My second mistress has a pet (or slave, whichever you prefer) and that pet is my first mistress. In fact my second mistress (the higher of the two) has a mistress too who also has a mistress. It is like a ladder with women who are both mistresses and pets. Except for the ends of that ladder and I am at the bottom rung, so I have no pet.

I assume that some of you who read this are into this kind of culture but for me it is quite new. Anyway, I was collared in a ceremony and was, later, given a pet name. This is very cute and I am proud of it. This is the really strange thing. I am extremely proud of my collar and my pet name and I truly enjoy belonging to those two lovely women. I know it is a game, a role play but it is still great fun and quite immersing.

Although I am not exactly as I am in RL my avatar is very much me, still. I get to see myself from outside in a way that is interesting. My mistresses take care of me and protect me and all this is very sweet and good. I know they think I am a little too vulnerable and too easy to hurt so they need to take care of me.

I may tell you more about my second life later on but this will do for now.

Inspiration...

I will start with a disclaimer. Remember when you read this, that it is just me and just now! I am not saying anything about fantasies in general or what I think is good or bad or anything. This is just how I feel...now.

I get feed up with myself and my fantasies at times. I look at them and see pain and humiliation and bad things. It strikes me in the face sometimes and it hurts. I can't turn away from it since it is me, my fantasies, my imagination but it hurts.

Then I want to go back, to visit each and every scene in the cinema of my head and do it right. I want to throw down all the whips and canes and break them and shout out loud that there will be no more whippings. I want to untie all the ropes and unshackle all the shackles and set free all the slaves and captives and...and myself. I will tell them, us, to dress and go somewhere and cuddle with someone they love. I want to touch all the bruises and caress away all he pain and humiliation. Then I want people, myself, everyone to be loved and love. Not to hurt and degrade and cause pain.

I know, it is all fantasy, it is not about bad things. It is about love and trust and all that is good. I know that. I really, understand that. But sometimes the images, the themes, the events in my imagination seems so brutal, so full of pain and humiliation that I wonder how it can be. How is it possible to have that in your head.

Another Spanking

I do like to think that you don't know me yet, that I am still able to surprise you a little. I have told you before that I like to take on different roles when I write and this is what I have done now. Perhaps this story seems to be less consensual and a little more brutal than my ordinary scribblings. I don't think it, really, is.

'No, don't touch me!' she cried.

I grabbed her in silence. She tried to wriggle lose but I was stronger. I took hold of her shirt.

'Don't touch me!' she screamed desperately.

I pulled at her shirt in anger, sensing the buttons give away, ripping it open, exposing her breasts. She wore no bra. I stared at her naked breasts, round and lovely. I wanted to touch them.

Tearing her shirt open meant I lost my hold on her and she moved away. I lost my grip on the shirt with one hand but retained the other. She tried to rise up and move away from me. This pulled the shirt from her shoulders but she almost made her escape. I kept hold of the shirt and scrambled to my feet. I captured her again and this time I got hold of her shirt pulling it down from both her shoulders pinning her arms to her side, further exposing her.

She wriggled lose leaving me holding her shirt. She was now topless as she fled to the door. This time I was quicker and captured her again.

'Let me go you bastard!!!' she cried but I wouldn't let her go.

I got hold of her jeans and managed to unbutton them.

'No, please, no,' she wailed with desperation in her voice.

Her legs seemed to give way under her and I fell on top of her. She tried to break free but I got hold of her and now her jeans came down from her hips, taking her knickers with them.

'You can't do this,' she screamed.

'Can't I?' I hissed as I pulled her jeans down a little but further.

She tried to crawl away but this only meant that her jeans were pulled further down. Now they have parted company with her knickers which now covered half of her bottom.

I pulled her back by my hold of her jeans and she turned around and almost got away. She fell back with her jeans around her ankles and I crawled closer and grabbed her around the waist. I put my foot on her jeans and pushed and soon they were free from her left leg. I pulled her towards me as I sat and she soon found herself in my lap.

I pulled down her knickers to her mid thighs almost ripping them to pieces.

'Let me go! You bastard, you devil.'

The only reply she got from me was my hands turning her body in my lap so that her bottom was turned up. I pinned her legs with my leg and gave her a hard sharp slap on her buttocks.

'You don't dare!' she wailed.

As a reply I planted another hard slap on her naked behind. She tried to put her hand over her buttocks as protection but I grabbed it and pulled up towards her neck pinning her down. Now I let go of a hail of hard slaps on her wobbling and very naked behind.

'You can't do that!!' she screamed. 'It hurts.'

'It is supposed to hurt,' I replied.

I had got into it now whacking away at her bared bottom. Her pale skin turning pink and almost red in places.

'No, stop it, stop it,' she screamed.

'Why? This is fun.'

'You can't do that, stop it, it hurts!!'

'That is no way to ask a favour.'

'A favour, you bastard,' she screamed almost in tears.

'Well, it could be considered a favour to stop this fun.'

'It's not fun, it hurts!'

I spanked her hard and quick now, alternating between her buttocks. I was still angry, still annoyed but the sight of her wobblig bottom amused me greatly.

'Please, please, stop it!'

'That is better, but you have to mean it.'

I continued spanking her.

'Please, please,' she screamed, 'I'll do anything.'

I stopped for a while.

'You just say that to make me stop spanking you.'

'I want you to stop spanking me.'

'I don't want to stop.'

I began in earnest, spanking her, now, red buttocks.

She screamed in anger and pain. She didn't say anything but she wriggled and cried. After a while her struggle abated. She moved about but I felt she did not struggle against me any more.

I stopped.

'Please, please,' she said, sobbing, 'please stop spanking me, I can't take anymore. I will be good.'

'Will you do as I say?'

'Yes, I will, I'll do anything you say.'

'Do you mean that?'

'Yes, I mean that, just stop spanking me.'

'I have a hard time believing you.'

'I promise, I will do as you say.'

'You just say that to make me stop spanking you.'

'Please, please, don't spank me any more!'

'You will have to prove to me that you will do as I say.'

'I will, I will, as soon as I get up I will obey you.'

'Will you?'

'Yes, I will.'

'Why?'

'Because, because you will spank me if I don't.'

'How true.'

'Can I rise now?'

'No. I have another question.'

'Yes?'

'Who am I?'

'You are my boyfriend.'

'Is that all?'

'You are the master.'

'Sounds better. Who am I?'

'You are my master.'

'Mmm, sounds nice.'

'Will I still be your master when I let you go?'

'Yes, you will.'

'Regardless of what I do?'

'Yes, you are my master, as you are.'

'Ok, then.'

I started spanking her again.

'No, don't do that, you bastard!!' she screamed. 'I promised to obey you.'

'Yes, you did and now I want to spank you.'

She screamed in anger.

'Please, please,' she said when she stopped sceaming, 'please, don't spank me!'

'Stop your wailings and take you spanking!'

She was silent save for some moaning and squealing.

I continued spanking her red bottom and she wriggled and moved but she did not fight me. I spanked her for a good while and she sobbed and cried but did not protest.

When I was finished she was lying still in my lap, panting, sobbing.

'I have stopped spanking you,' I said.

'Thank you,' she replied.

I let go of her body and she scrambled to standing on all four. She turned to me and I saw her dishevelled and red face, wet with tears. She regarded me for a while and then she suddenly smiled.

'You bastard,' she said but this time her voice was soft and her eyes had a strange kind of glimmer. She turned around to lie down in my lap. She turned her lovely self to me and she smiled at me. She stretched her arms to me and took hold of my neck and pulled me close.

'Kiss me, kiss me, my master!'

I Am Back

It has been a long and lovely holiday. Perhaps a little too much of relatives and people come visiting but it is mean to say that. I do love the company of my relatives and friends. It is just that sometimes you need to be alone, alone with your most beloved. Just to relax and get back on track.

Anyway, I managed to do some writing but very little suitable for this blog. I do have one story I will put up in a day or two. Well, it is not really a story, just a fantasy snippet. But you should know me by now. This is how it works on this blog.

It is a strange experience, coming back after a long holiday. My mind is still confused and this blogging life seems so distant and weird. I am not saying it is bad or anything, just strange. I will get out it and things will return to normal. I am quite convinced.

One good thing with holidays is that it gives you time to think about who you are and what you think. Things I already knew becomes clearer and some new thoughts appear. I have realised how grumpy I can be. This is, definitely, something that makes the real me unsuitable for being the polite and humble submissive I am in my fantasies. I do get angry with people and I do get irritated and I don't always have the patience I should have.

I was complaining about friends and relatives but one good thing about meeting them is that I realise that I am a part of a network of people who really love and care about me and that is worth a lot...well, almost everything.

I am back now and I will continue blogging and I still love to hear from you. I got a comment on my Sad Story that said '...never be afraid to walk the line between umbra and penumbra... that is where the tears come from, and where the treasures are found.' That is one of the sweetest comments I have ever had. It makes me think that, perhaps, I have an ability to convey something of what I feel. And it gives me the courage to continue writing the things I want to write even if it is not just exciting and arousing.

After all, I am glad to be back.

Going Away

Dear Reader, summertime and holidays and such things are generally good things, don't you think? I think they are. The downside is that I will not have time for my blog for a month (until early August). I will, really, really, miss it. But then again, now is the time to go back and read some of my earlier postings. If you haven't done that already.

I will be able to check my blog for comments and such things from time to time so if you have something to say, please do! I do see comments on older entries. Just because they are old they are not abandoned.

My hope is that holiday will bring new inspiration for blogging and writing and such things. I have felt a little uninspired of lately. I suppose this is life, you can't always be full of fascinating and inspiring thoughts. Sorry for ranting. What I am trying to say is that I love writing, I will always love writing and I am looking forward to continue blogging when I get back. Until then, dear Reader, take care and do something really nice!

Slave Story, part 3

This is the third instalment of the Slave Story. Things are changing for poor Calissa. Her life is changing. I hope this part will show that this will not be just another Gor rip off. It is a little longer than the first ones but the interesting things happen at the end so keep reading!

I thought about the fact that I hadn't been branded yet. I wondered if that meant that I wasn't technically a slave yet. Maybe I was still free and the process of enslaving was on its way but was not finished? Maybe I could still be freed? I felt despair since I could do nothing about it from the pens, my hopes rested with someone else. My father had sold me and if he didn't change his mind I would become a slave for real. I wanted to bring him here and beg him to take me back. If he would see his youngest daughter naked in the pens he might change his mind and set me free. I wished for that.

My father never came, no one came for me. I was left on my own, naked and deprived of everything. I cried in misery. My heart was in despair.

I don't know how long I sat there engulfed in my own misfortune but after a while I heard a rustling beside me and looked up. I saw the smiling face of another girl. She didn't say anything, she just looked at me, still smiling.

'Leave me alone!' I said.

'Hi, I am Miro, at least for the time being,' she said ignoring my words.

'What do you mean?' I said in a very unfriendly voice.

'You know,' she said, 'slaves don't really have names, your Master may change it at any time.'

'I am not a slave,' I blurted out.

'I guess you are free as a bird,' Miro replied.

This brought some giggles from the other women and girls.

I looked at her in anger and saw her still smiling. She hadn't meant to mock me, her smile seemed to tell me that. She looked kind.

'Sorry, Miro,' I said.

'No offence taken,' she said and looked at me.

She was shorter than me, I guessed, although we were on the floor. She was slim and delicate. She had black hair, brown eyes and her skin was a light olive, much darker than my pale being. As she leaned forward her tiny breasts tried to dangle but as she sat back I saw that they fitted her slim body very well. She was a very good looking young girl of my own age, I thought.

Miro told me she came from a village to the south and that she had been enslaved a month ago when her family had fallen in debt. She belonged to master Guur who was renowned for his riches and power. She had been in the pens for three weeks and didn't, still, know what fate awaited her.

She seemed not to be too concerned with being enslaved which puzzled me. How could anyone not be concerned? I imagined that some of the older girls, the ones who had been slaves for a year or more, would have become used to it and accepted it but Miro was new to it, just as I was.

Miro laughed a lot and told jokes and tried her best to cheer me up. She was kind to me and stroked the hair from my forehead as I was crying and comforted me. She hugged me and held me as we slept. At first this intimacy felt strange and frightening and something that was not to be. It was a strange sensation feeling her naked body cuddling up to mine but soon I found some comfort in her presence.

I was ashamed of being naked and felt humiliated at the thought of someone touching me. I had been a free girl and I was used to keeping my body to myself. This is not allowed for a slave and soon I was shown that physical contact for a slave was not always of the soft kind that Miro provided.

In the first evening as I sat in my place, and only a couple of hours had passed since my capture, two guards came into the big room laughing and roaring. They grabbed a set of keys on the guard's table and walked among the pens. They decided on our pen and slammed the door open. They came in and all the slaves in the pen shrunk back. One of the men grabbed a blond girl and threw her on the floor. She screamed but did not dare to fight him as he mounted her. She cried in misery as he took her as a desperate bull takes his mate. The other guard browsed the slaves and his eyes fell on Miro.

He put his arm around her waist and lifted her. He placed her on all four and knelt behind her. He grabbed her hips and took her as the dogs do.

The blond girl was some years older than me and she screamed and cried out in agony. Miro seemed calmer. She didn't smile any longer and she bit her lip as he entered her but she didn't scream or cry. She seemed calm up until the man started to groan and grunt, then I saw her face contort a little and she closed her eyes. She cried out a little as the man gave a low grunt and stopped pumping in her.

The men left and I was in shock. I looked at Miro who was lying panting on the floor. She was lying on her side, her body prostrated in quite an attractive way. She was affected but she looked content rather than horrified. I was amazed by that.

She scrambled to her knees after a while.

'I am sorry, Miro,' I said.

'He is a brute,' she said, 'but some are far worse.'

'Does he do it often to you?' I asked staring at her.

'Not that often, but it happens,' she gave me a kind of smile now.

'How horrible,' I said.

'You will have to get used to it,' she said, 'a slave's body is for her Master.'

I shrugged in horror as I realised she was right.

I froze at the thought of what I had just witnessed could happen to me. I knew it most probably would but I was terrified. Still there were something in Miro's expression that told me that the pleasure had not been entirely on the side of the brute. I couldn't understand that and at that moment I almost despised her, my only friend in the pens.

Miro and the other women in the pen helped me through those first horrible days. We did nothing, just sat there and talked and waited. We were twenty three naked women and girls locked up in a cage. In the room there were seven other pens full of slaves.

My fellow captives turned out to be a good bunch of people. There was jealousy and anger between some of them but all of them took pity on me and treated me kindly. I felt a bit patronised by this but it helped me through the worst of my ordeal.

I couldn't say I got used to sitting naked on the floor of the pen but after a while the worst of the shock settled down. I was able to forget my agony for short whiles and even laugh at some jokes and enjoy the songs we sang.

Miro took a shine to me and I enjoyed her company. She seemed amazingly content and happy although I knew she missed her family in the nights when she cuddled up to me and I put my arms around her. I started to enjoy sensing her body close to mine, it gave me comfort.

I was spared the brutes. No one had me there in the pens although some of them seemed to like Miro and the other women very much. It was obvious that they had favourites and Miro was one of the most favoured. She seemed to find their attention flattering or even pleasing and I could not understand that. I was terrified some of the guards would even touch me.

There was a bit of competition amongst the girls about the attention of the guards. The blond girl who had been screaming when she was taken was new and still in shock but most of the others seemed to accept it or even want it. Some even showed off a bit, thrusting their chest out as the guards walked by. They laughed heartily at that and mocked the girls. Miro never did that. She was just herself but still she was one of the most popular.

When the guards talked about the women, which they did quite openly, they seemed to praise the fully breasted women the most and those with flat bellies and long legs. Miro was short and very slim and had only tiny breasts. Still she was popular with the guards. I didn't understand that.

I wondered a little why I had been spared and asked Miro if she thought it was due to me being quite small and slim and not having big breasts. Miro shook her head and said that she was convinced that I was off limit to the guards, that is, I was to be spared for my buyer. I shivered at her words and fell silent.

She thought that I was sad because I hadn't been taken by the guards and assured me she thought me very beautiful. I didn't believe her but her words felt good anyway.

Miro was a strange being. I came to like her more and more as the time passed. She was always by my side and she seemed to enjoy my company. I couldn't understand that since I was mostly sour and sullen and unhappy.

I found her looking at me with a strange glimmer in her eyes at times and she seemed overly happy as we cuddled up in each others arms for sleep at night. I was a bit puzzled by this but didn't think a lot about it.

One night as we were sleeping close to each other I was awaken. We were lying face to face and I saw that Miro was awake. She looked at me in silence. I wasn't really awake so I looked back into her eyes.

Then she stroked my cheek and I smiled at her, still sleepy, and finding her touch quite soft and nice. I was a bit surprised as I felt her hand move down my cheek and touch my shoulder. I was still dazed and accepted her touch. It felt nice and I think I closed my eyes and smiled.

I opened my eyes as I felt her breath on my face and I saw her face very close to mine. Then she kissed me. She gave me a soft and lovely kiss.

I must have looked puzzled and about to say something because she put her finger on my lips to hush me. She kissed me again and whispered in my ear.

'It's ok, just relax!'

She rose to her elbow and leaned forward and kissed me again. My lips responded and I felt her softness against me. She moved her body closer and I felt her hip touch my side. She kissed me again and I kissed her back.

Then she touched me. I felt her hand on my belly and I drew my breath.

'Hush, just relax!' she whispered.

I started to breathe more normally again.

I felt her hand stroke my belly and the sensation scared me. It felt very good having her hand on my body.

A part of me told me it was a dream and that I could embrace what happened. I didn't protest or move as I felt her hand move further down my body, over my lower belly and then, slowly, in between my thighs. A rush of blood to my head told me that her touch stirred up sensations in me that I thought belonged to another place and to another situation.

I was deadly scared she would touch me there, between my thighs and at the same time did my body crave it. It was very strange.

Her circling movements told me she was on her way to me and I held my breath. She kissed me again and then I felt her fingers slip into me. I froze and didn't breathe for several seconds. I was overcome with the tingling in my sex her fingers arose. Her fingers terrified me at the same time as they made me feel blessed with something strange and very pleasant.

She moved her fingers in my sex and soon I couldn't control the wave that threatened to carry me away. She seemed to know that it was on its way because her fingers felt more eager now and soon it happened. I dreaded it but it was a bliss. I almost cried out as my sex exploded and took my whole body with it. I can't describe the sensation that ran through me and overwhelmed me. I had never, ever before, felt anything like it.

As I came around I saw Miro's smiling face. She looked so tenderly at me that I almost burst out in tears. She stroked my cheek and I started to cry. She embraced me and held me close stroking my hair. It was wonderful sensing her tiny naked body against mine and at that moment I wanted to be nowhere else in the world but in her arms.

I fell asleep and as I woke up I wasn't sure it had happened at all but the look on the face of Miro told me it was for real. I saw love in her eyes and I smiled at her. I was glad that it was a girl who did it for me the first time.

I knew that such things happened, I had sensed it in the pen at nights but I didn't think I was like that. I longed for the night now when I would be lying in Miro's arms. I was ashamed and thought it a wrong thing to do but I couldn't help being aroused just looking at her. I loved her not only with my heart, now I loved her with my body as well.

I felt shame as I thought about my family and the village and wondered what they would say if they knew, but then I thought about why I was here and how my father had sold me and how I was another man's property now. Selling your daughter into slavery meant that you knew that her body would soon serve her new owner. Maybe they didn't think about how her body could satisfy her sisters in bondage. Maybe they would frown and be displeased but I didn't belong to them any more, for better or for worse.

Miro taught me how to satisfy her and I was happy to oblige. She taught me how to kiss and I soon became an eager pupil. I was still shy and very much ashamed but I liked it.

A Sad Story

Fantasies can't all be roses and, well, whatever. It lies in the power of imagination that it sometimes puts in your head stories and ideas that are a tad more serious than the ordinary spanking story.

This is a sad story about being without love. Still I like it and it expresses something about me. But, remember, it is just fiction!

'Goodbye,' he said.
Then he left.

He will never come back. I know that. Never again will I hear him come through the door, his well known footsteps on the stairs. He will never come back.

Never again will I feel his arms around me, his embrace, the touch that made me feel small an loved. Never ever again.

And here I am, in the ruins of my life. How could it fall? Why is everything dust?

'What do you want?' he said.
He always asked me what I wanted.

I could not answer. I had no answer. I was silent and he left.

If I had words. What would I say? What would I have told him? What did I want?

I would have told him how I would come to him in his dream, an Egyptian servant girl, naked save for my girdle. I would dance for him, move my body for him, please him and make him desire me. I would dance and dance. Until my feet hurt. I would move my hips, circle my breasts, snake my arms to his delight, be a fairy and a slave for him, only for him.

I wonder if he remembers the time, the only time, he laid his hands on me in anger. The time he took hold of me and shook me because I couldn't tell him, because I couldn't speak. How I cried and we made love, how I loved him with passion, the only time I let myself go.

I wish I had told him what I wanted. How I dreamt about him coming to me, in the evening, bringing his cane, for to punish me, to show me who I was, to tell me I had to be. Telling me that I could no longer be silent. Whipping the fear out of me.

The pain of that whipping would be nothing compared to the distance in his eyes when I could not speak, when I disappeared from him. How he tried to seek me out but could not find me. How his gaze tried to penetrate the darkness but could not see my light.

I had hidden it. My flickering light was so weak, so nothing. It could easily be extinguished. I had to protect it. I had to cover it.

But how I wish I could have told him how he should have touched me and nurtured me and my light. How I wanted to tell him that he had to touch my thick hide, to penetrate the darkness to reach me.

I should have told him how he had to be strong to defeat me and to reach me. How he had to punish me and make me suffer for to bring me out of my silence.

I wish I had told him to kiss me. I should have told him what I wanted. That I wanted him to take me and make me his. That I wanted to be what he desires.

Now he is gone and I never told him.