I need a change of scene.  This time last year I was at the company office in Louisiana and didn’t get back to Carolina until a week after Memorial Day.  I remember it well because on the way we stopped at the Visitors Center in Vicksburg, Mississippi as we always do.  There’s a Civil War Memorial Park there with a huge cannon on a hill overlooking the Mississippi River.  I wanted a photo of myself sitting on it, ergo the phallic implications, and while trying to get down I slipped and threw my back out. 

Anyway, I have been here in this town way too long.  I need to be out traveling.  It’s of no matter whether it’s by car or on a plane or even a train.  The mode of travel isn’t as important to me as the act of actually going somewhere and seeing and interacting with new and different people.  After all, I love meeting people and getting a glimpse into their world through conversation.   In a way I think it’s one of the reasons I was given this life and why I love living it so much.

The Louisiana office of my company is in north-central Louisiana, about forty miles from Alexandria and just a few hours east of Dallas, Texas.  The town is even smaller than my home town here in South Carolina and takes about twelve hours to drive.  I feel like the laid back atmosphere in that small town creates a deeper level of performance for doing my job.   The ride on I-20 takes me through Atlanta then Birmingham and rural Mississippi.  The ride is so intimate as compared to flying and the scenery is both lush and beautiful.  I love both the Old South and the Deep South, but my love for travel in the U.S. doesn’t stop there.

I really miss New York City, which I first visited in 1976.  I miss the city and the people that call it home, but there is one lady there I miss more than all others.  I’ve grown fond of the sight of her waiting to pick me up at the airport.  I miss the first kiss and holding her hand after not seeing her for weeks or maybe months apart.  I am still thrilled to take the LIRR from the island into Penn Station with her and having drinks at The Perfect Pint on 45^th street.  My memories of her on my arm while looking at the Macy’s windows decorated for Christmas and the tree decorated at Rockefeller Center are among my sweetest.  I could go on forever, but I think you get the point.

I want to go and see and experience all I can.  Making new friends and seeing new things is what I was meant to do and what I have to do.  But more importantly, I now the road that takes me to those wonderful and different places will always bring me back here.  It will always bring me back home.

‘Kneel on the floor slut’ was his next command as he pushed me away from his body. I knelt down where I was, still not facing him. He moved in front of me, grabbed the leather straps and pulled on them. My nipples were being pulled and the beads were running along my. I could feel the leather and beads moving over my ass, a hole I loved him to play with and that I knew then was going to get a lot of attention over the weekend. He took his cock in his hand ‘make me cum slut’ he said as he pushed his cock between my lips. My hands were free so I grabbed his thighs as I sucked his hard cock. I loved sucking his cock and making him cum, and this time it was even more fun with him pulling on the leather straps. The harder I sucked the more he pulled. My nipples were being stretched as far as they would go, the beads were working my pussy, and the feeling on my ass was incredible. I worked his cock with my mouth, sucking and licking every inch of it. I took it as deep into my throat as I could and when I did, he grabbed the back of my head and shoved his cock deeper into my mouth. ‘Suck it good you dirty little slut’ he commanded as I felt his legs start to quiver. I licked his balls as my mouth slid to the base of his cock again, and with this he tugged harder than ever on the strap, ‘good girl’ he shouted as I sucked him to climax. His cum filled my mouth and I sucked every last drop out of him that I could. He quickly pulled his cock out of, my mouth and stepped back to watch me swallow his cum and lick my lips. I tasted every last drop that I could as he continued to pull on the straps.

I let out a moan as my pussy felt the beads and my ass the leather drag over it. ‘Oh, she likes that does she’ he said with a smirk on his face. ‘Get on the bed, and present yourself for me’ he said as he pushed me to the bed. Presenting myself meant getting on all fours, with my legs spread as wide as they would go. I obeyed him without saying a word. I got into the middle of the bed and positioned myself accordingly. ‘Good, you are truly my little slave’ he purred, his voice full of excitement. He tied my hands and feet to the bed, so tightly so that I could not move from where I was positioned. ‘Let me see my pussy’ he muttered as he moved between my legs. I could feel his breath against my pussy lips as he examined the wet juicy flesh that was there for his pleasure. He pulled on the leather strap a couple of times and I knew he would be watching the way my pussy twitched with the movement of the beads.

He reached his arm underneath me and took the leather strap off the nipple clamp chain. He tightened the clamps and pulled on the chain as hard as he could. I couldn’t help but moan with the pain and the pleasure it bought me. He laughed and pulled it again. It was then for the first time that his fingers slid onto my pussy. Tickling the edges of my lips was enough to make me cum. I didn’t have time to ask him, before I felt the rush through my body and the wetness trickle down my legs. ‘You didn’t ask me if you could cum, you slut’ he barked at me. ‘I’m sorry’ I whispered, waiting to see what his reaction would be. ‘You want to be punished?’ he asked. ‘Yes, please punish me, I need to be punished’ I replied. He went to his chest of toys and I felt the paddle crash hard against the cheeks of my ass. Not once but three times, hard smacks that made my skin ache. ‘You are my playground slut, you are here for my pleasure you cum when I say’ he said as he let the paddle go against my ass for the fourth time. He caressed my ass for a few minutes, and I could feel the sensation of the spanking creep into my pussy.

‘Does my pussy want me to spend some time with it?’ he asked. ‘Yes, it is your pussy, please touch your pussy’ I begged softly. I felt him run something hard along my slit. It was warm, but hard and I wasn’t sure what it was until I heard him turn it on. He had a vibrator to use on me. ‘Oh god’ I moaned in pleasure as he stroked it up and down my lips. Dragging the tip of the vibe up and down my pussy felt so good ‘please may I cum?’ I asked him. ‘No, slut, you may not’ was his gruff reply. ‘Please may I cum’ I begged again. ‘No, you must wait’ he said with a satisfied tone. He teased me a while longer in the same manner. All the time I felt my orgasm building inside me, not sure how much longer I could wait. Then I felt his finger slide to my ass. His finger was lubricated and he circled my ass gently with it. ‘Please please let me cum’ I shouted at him. ‘You may cum’ he laughed, just as I felt my pussy throb with the power of my orgasm. My pussy was drenched. ‘God, oh god’ I screamed as the waves of delight shot through my body. He laughed as my body released and his only words were ‘I’ve only just begun slut.’

He kept working his finger round my ass until he slipped it inside me. Little by little I felt the tip of his finger creep inside me. “You’ve got a great ass’ he said as he started the vibrator again. This time he didn’t play with my pussy at all. I felt the head of the vibrator resting against my pussy and then he shoved it deep inside me, twisting it as he pushed it in as deep as it would go. All the time his finger was working my ass. ‘Cum you little slut, cum for me’ he shouted as he fucked my pussy with the vibrator. I did not have to be told a second time, I came harder than I had minutes before. When my body stopped quivering, he removed his finger and the vibrator.

My pussy ached to feel his cock inside me. He was so turned on I knew I wouldn’t have to wait long. I felt him position himself between my legs on his knees. He reached beneath me and pulled on the nipple clamp chain, just as the head of his cock touched my pussy. His cock felt so hard I was ready to be fucked by him. ‘I’m going to fuck you like you deserved, you slut’ he said as his cock drove deep inside me. His cock felt so good. He knew how to work it inside me better than anything I had ever known. His hips grinding into me as he went as deep as he could, was a feeling that I loved. Sliding his cock gently and then as hard as he could drove me wild. ‘I’m going to cum you slut, oh god I’m going to cum so hard’ he moaned. I came first and then his cum filled my pussy so much I wasn’t sure I could take any more. He left his cock inside me for a couple of minutes before he collapsed onto the bed. He lay there for a minute before getting up and untying my feet. ‘You dirty little slut’ he said with a grin, as he slid underneath me. He removed the nipple clamps and as he did so told me, ‘I’m going to suck your tits’. He untied my hands and started to suck my tits with great passion, biting and nibbling, teasing and tweaking them with his teeth.

I don’t know how long I slept for, but when I woke up, he was sucking my tits again. This was going to be a long slutty weekend.

It had been a long week. I was looking forward to the weekend as I headed home on Friday night. We would usually go out for a meal and a drink after work on a Friday and I was heading home to take a shower and get dressed for our evening.

He was already home when I got there. I would normally meet him in town so it was a little unusual to see his car in the garage. I walked inside, called out to him, and went into the bathroom to turn the shower on. When I came back into the lounge I realized that, depending on the decision I made in the next few minutes, we wouldn’t be going out that night, or maybe for the whole weekend. Lying on the coffee table was my collar, and if I picked it up, it would mean I was his slave until he took it off me.

When the collar is out it means that I am to be used as his slut, his playground, and a body for his pleasure. Either of us can bring the collar out, but he is the only one who can take the collar off once I have it on. Sometimes he will use me for a couple of hours and at other times he will keep me as his slave for a couple of days. He is a good master of the collar and I experience great pleasure when I am his slut.

I looked at the collar lying there, small silver studs glistening in the fading sunlight. My tiredness seemed to fade as I thought of all the pleasure of the collar and I looked around to see where he was. He was not in the room and I could only guess that he was upstairs waiting to see what my decision would be. Another rule of accepting the collar is that once I pick it up I must present myself to him, and he will attach the collar to me. I must be naked and be ready for him from the moment I present with the collar. Being ready means having hard nipples and a wet pussy. Mostly I get wet as soon as I accept the collar, but I always pinch my nipples and rub my pussy just to make sure I am ready to serve.

I left the collar lying on the table, went, and took my shower. I would make him wait just a little longer before I let him know the kind of weekend I was prepared to have. I rubbed my hands over my tits, feeling my nipples harden as I washed them. Then I took the showerhead off the wall and slipped it between my legs. I didn’t want to be punished for not being completely clean for him. I thought about letting myself cum with the shower, but I decided against it. I would be completely his for as long as he wanted and I would wait until he allowed me to cum. I knew that part of his pleasure was watching me cum, so I would get my fair share of indulgence.

After I was thoroughly clean, I dried myself off. With my skin still warm I went into the lounge, picked up the collar and headed up the stairs. On the way, I pinched my nipples, but nowhere near as hard as he might pinch them. I walked into our bedroom and stood before him with the collar in my hand. His face lit up, and he smiled one of his wicked sexy smiles. ‘Good girl’ he said as I walked towards him. He took the collar and as he was putting it around my neck he asked me his usual question; ‘Are you my little slut?’ ‘Yes’ I answered as he pushed my shoulder to turn me around so he could fasten the collar. I felt him buckle the collar and I knew from that moment on I was there solely for his enjoyment until he decided to uncollar me.

He reached his hands around my body and grabbed my tits. ‘Good’, nice hard nipples’ he said as he slid his hand between my legs ‘and my pussy is nice and wet too’. ‘You are my slut and I am going to play with you and fuck you all weekend. You will cum only when I say you can, beg me if you must, but you must not cum without my permission. Do you understand?’ The rules of play always changed and he always spelt them out clearly after my collar was on. ‘Your body is my playground you slut, I am going to fuck you, and fuck you hard. You are going to suck my cock, and do whatever I want. At no time are you to touch yourself unless I tell you to. Is that what you want you little slut, to be my slave?’ ‘Yes it is, please use me to make yourself cum, please make my body your playground. I am a slut and I need you to use me like one’ I replied. As the exchange of rules and agreement went on, I could feel my pussy starting to throb.

‘Good we are clear on the fact that you are a slut’ he said as he grabbed my nipples again. His grip on them was tight. As he twisted them, he pulled them, stretching them out from my body. I put my head back into his neck as I moaned. This made him twist them all the harder, pulling them as far as he could. He bit my neck as he continued to play with my tits. He went from kneading them to pulling my nipples over and over again. I could feel his hands digging deep into my tits and I could feel his cock growing hard as he pressed against my back.

. My tits are large and round and I have good nipples. I know that he loves to play with my tits as he does so at every chance he gets. He let go of my tits and moved away from me, but only for a moment. His hands reached around again and it was then that I felt the pain that I loved. Nipple clamps gong on each nipple. The clamps had a chain between them and he tugged on it hard, pulling my tits and nipples downwards. Then he attached a thin leather strap with beads onto the chain. He let the strap drop to the floor. I had no idea what this could be for. ‘Bend over slut’ he said as he pushed my back. I bent over and spread my legs as he commanded. He reached between my legs and grabbed the strap. I moved my hips so that I might feel his hand on my flesh. ‘Stand up’ he ordered and as I did so I felt the strap divide into two pieces where the beads ended, he took these over my shoulders. The beads on the strap were pressed hard against my pussy and ass. It was like a harness that slipped along my pussy and gave him reins to control it with. Oh god, what wonderful new toy has he made for me this time I wondered. He always spent a lot of time making new toys for both our pleasure, and I was always amazed at the ideas he came up with.

Sometimes we tend to speak in absolutes. We read a word like “submissive” or “dominant” and forget there are different types of submissive and levels of submission. The type of submissive depends on the person you are and how you choose to grow. Before you starting reading remember this is my opinion based on my experience. I am familiar with D/s in the hetero arena so a sub to me has a gender assignment of female. I have no problem with gay or transsexual D/s, I just don’t know anything about it. 

In understanding the submissive a good place to start is “the bottom”. The bottom is the person who in the BDSM lifestyle enjoys the pain. They wish to be on the receiving end of the “flogger.” The bottom may direct the session before or during the session, and the bottom maintains the control. A Dominant can be a bottom and derive pleasure from the act of bottoming without submitting. The act of bottoming is not always sexual but most of the time it is. The bottom does not release real control to the top; it’s more of a mutual partnership. Some good examples of “The Bottom” are those who are into the spanking sect of the lifestyle. I have met spankers who will tell you they are not submissive and they don’t have a submissive bone in their body. They are in this for the sexual pleasure of the pain. The bottom is more of an act rather than a state of mind.

Next type of submissive is the bedroom submissive. The best way to portray this type of submissive is in every facet of life she may be like the bottom or a vanilla but when the bedroom door shuts the roles drop and she submits to the dominant. In the bedroom is where the power exchange happens, but it’s also where the power exchange stays. This is almost always sexual, and in the bedroom the act of submission is complete. However when the bedroom door is open the bedroom submissive returns to the vanilla world or role.

The difference between the “bedroom submissive” and the “Bottom” is control. The Bottom is in control. However the bedroom submissive gives control to the dominant but only in the bedroom.

Yet another type of submissive is the “Psychological Submissive.” This act of submission happens in the mind of the submissive. It happens outside of the bedroom, in other words outside of the sexual arena. In her mind the submissive has a need to surrender to the dominant and the act of submission is a psychological event. She can give herself to the dominant. She can give as little or as much as the psychological submissive wishes or needs to give. Then her will becomes the responsibility of the dominant to determine her choices and directions. A psychological submissive can give up as much or as little as she needs to surrender and the surrendering of the power is the driving force. Once the psychological submissive surrenders she can simply become nothing. She can abandon herself completely to her dominant, trusting in the Dominant’s strength and through that action the power exchange is completed.

There is now the submissive with the heart of the slave. This is the deepest level of submission in the minds of many Dominants... The submissive with the slave’s heart whishes to completely surrendered without becoming a slave. In the psychological submissive the submission comes from a psychological need to submit. However the heart is a different matter. The love of the dominant is craved. The submissive with the slave’s heart desires to give her heart as well as her submission to the Dominant. The psychological submissive needs not be in love to submit.

 I believe this type of submissive has a need to give not only submission, but love with that submission. The submissive with the heart of a slave is at the threshold of completely surrendering herself to the Dominant. The level of trust is greater in the submissive with the slave’s heart than the psychological submissive.

The slave is thought to be the pinnacle of submission. Unlike the submissive the slave surrenders complete control to her Master/Mistress. Am I saying a slave has no limits? No I believe we all have some form of limits, whether those limits are moral or cultural, I believe those limits do exist. I believe a good loving Master/Mistress will respect the limits of his property and take care of the slave.

The slave has an undying need to become owned by her/his Master/Mistress. I use the think “The Slave” was an extension  

The slave must feel completely owned by Master. The slave feels like nothing until Master gives the slave identity. When Master is happy the slave is happy. Most of the true slaves I have talked to feel this way. They feel most complete when with Master. The slave beams when she brings Master pleasure. The slave must surrender, and the slave is not happy until she has surrendered. The slave feels completed when surrendering to Master.

Whether you believe the slave is just an extension of submission or that the slave is a different creature all-together, the slave has the deepest need to be owned by Master and level of dedication. The slave must also have the deepest level of trust in Master.

The above is just my take on submission. There are many different levels of D/s. The most important thing is that you must be true to yourself and who you really are. The submissive is not better then the bottom and the slave is not better then the submissive or the Master. Without one there is no use for the other.

You know, wishing won't make it so, hoping won't do it, praying won't do it, Religion won't do it, philosophy won't do it, the supreme court won't do it, the President and Congress won't do it, the UN won't do it, the H-bomb won't do it, the sun and the moon won't do it, God won't do it and I certainly won't do it.

That leaves you; you'll have to do it.

On the most elementary, bottom line levels, we all have to make the choices about how to live in a way that brings us happiness.  Some of us will meander through life bitching and moaning, hoping the path to happiness will fall out of the sky and all the troubles and strife will disappear.  Some of us will make up our minds to take charge and come to terms with our faults and those of others and move on. The sooner we realize that there is no magic bullet to correct life’s problems the better off we’ll be.

Most of us will be a victim of life and find some way to blame someone or something for creating problem after problem.  Oh sweet denial!  My divorce was horrible on too many levels but after I came to understand that was responsible for at least fifty percent of the problems I was able to put it aside and get on with the important things. 

I stopped worrying about everything.  I now understanding that worry is the interest you pay on shit that never happens.  I took the attitude of gratitude seriously and I believe you can’t be thankful and unhappy at the same time.  I know perpetual optimism is a force multiplier and life’s circumstances are never as bad as they seem in the moment.  I will always believe in myself, even if no one else does. 

By now you know I can’t make you happy or unhappy unless you allow me or anyone else to. Life will bury you with problems if you allow it to so be careful with your life choices.  Love, trust and friendship are the most valuable possessions any of us will ever own, so be sure of those you share them with.  There are too many people who believe love, trust and friendship are of no value what-so-ever and often we realize that way too late.