Fiction: I Can't take Anymore (A Memory)

It had already been hours since I had arrived at Mistress's home.  She had unleashed a world of suffering on me, through every method she knew...especially my nipple training.  The majority of my body was quivering, and the minority that wasn't was dodging the blows from her crop.  The afternoon was almost over and I assumed she was about to dismiss me...but that wasn't the case.  I stood before her as a clover clamp was placed on each of my nipples and they were joined by a heavy chain that provided tension and an evil weight was dangled from the chain. She sat at her bureau to do her hair and makeup before going out for the evening, and had me wedge my nose in her ass crack while she worked. As the minutes passed, the chain's weight began to pull at my nipples making it more and more uncomfortable to the point I almost had tears in my eyes.

When she had completed her preparations, she got down on the floor facing me and looked me in the eyes. She could tell I was at my limit with the pain. A good Domme can just sense my pain by looking in my eyes. She pushed the chain like a swing and I almost passed out...praying the clamps would pull themselves off with the motion of the chain...but they didn't. When the chain came to a stop, she mercifully but quickly pinched the clamps and let them fall to the floor. I closed my eyes and fought off a scream as the blood and nerves rushed back to the ends of my nipples.

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Fiction: Goddess Plays A New Game

Sparrow and I knelt before her, worshiping her feet and looking up into her eyes.  She had an interesting smirk that I've rarely seen as she began,

"Tonight, my pets, we're going to play a game that a friend of mine shared with me, although I've made it my own with a few improvements.  If either of you need to use the restroom, do it now and return to your worship position when you are finished."

Having had a cup of coffee earlier, I immediately went to the restroom and took care of business...then returned to her feet.  Sparrow had remained at Ma'am's feet and was speaking to her in a hushed voice as I got back.

Diary: Basement: Your Help

As Goddess visualizes her ideal dungeon space and we work to make it a reality.  It would be great to get some help from you readers.  Please feel free to contribute:

• Any "do-it-yourself" ideas for furniture, decoration, miscellaneous dungeon stuff.
• What you would have in YOUR dream dungeon.
• Pictures or links to practical dungeon solutions.

• Any creative ideas you might have.



The space will be approximately 15' x 15' give or take.  Cement walls on 2 sides and open for drape/curtain walls on the other two.  Cement floor.  Lots of rafters and beams exposed on the ceiling.  Starting from scratch, so everything will be by Goddess' design and meet her approval.

Thanks for any help you might be able to give in the thought process :-)

Diary: The Basement

No this isn't going to be a "locked in the basement like an animal" entry :-)  Actually I spent Sunday afternoon with Goddess and her husband at their home.  We began a basement cleanup with the objective of making space to construct a dungeon lair for her.  They have the typical accumulation of "things" that anyone builds up throughout life...so there were boxes and boxes of various things: clothes, keepsakes, books, old dishes, etc.  We spent several hours organizing, purging, reminiscing about certain items.  It was fun on several levels.  First of all, I enjoyed being helpful in a different way, as it made me feel useful to them.  Secondly, I got to know them as people...interacting in a different way than domme/sub.  Thirdly, I learned more about them by seeing their keepsakes, hearing their stories, and allowing a nice element of humor and lightheartedness.

After we had cleared out many, many shelves.  I hauled up the throwaway boxes to the garage to be ready for trash day.  It was a labor of love, but in all honesty, it was work :-)  I overdid it a tad, and was pretty sore that night and the day after.  Guess it was a reminder that a 45 year old man can and does get out of shape.

Well, as we called the basement quits, Goddess made sure we still had time to continue my training and I endured a very strenuous session of nipple training/torture, that pleased her greatly.  It was a new benchmark for me in the level of suffering that I was able to endure for her.

The journey continues and all is well with the world.