Do good boys get ice cream?

He sits now at my feet, not only minutes ago moaning and squirming in my bed as he exploded into his hand and down his stomach in spurts. Today was his masturbation day.  

Each week he is required to masturbate on the same three days, sometimes supervised sometimes not. Today I watched. I scratched his thighs, bit his nipples, flicked his scrotum and breathed heavily in his ears, inching him closer to ecstasy. I enjoy watching the sheer panic mixed with pleasure that comes over him in waves. 

I tossed him a towel and calmly walked out and gave him his next orders.

"Bring me a drink in one cup and ice in another," I say.

He agrees and then asks a question.

"May I please have an ice cream Mistress?" the boy asks softly.

"I'll think about it," I say leaving him alone to clean up his own mess.

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Sign on the dotted line

Order has been restored

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Instructions not included

Where oh where has Miss L gone?

No where really, I've been here. All the while waiting and longing to get a moment back to myself where I can think clearly and quietly and tap-tap-tap away on my keyboard to the blogsphere.

To say I've been busy with life would be an understatement and a bit too vague for my liking. I've been busy with poly-life.

Even as I type that I can feel the headache creeping in, my chest tightening a bit. This is what I wanted. This is what I longed for and dreamed about for days on end; being in a poly relationship. However, now that I am in a long term poly triad, I realize it's a lot more work than it looks like.

We all have different personalities, we all react different to situations, we all have our separate needs and wants, we are all our own person. Interweaving each of those individuals together has proven to be a feat nothing short of a magic act.

We are having ups, we are having downs but somehow we are managing, for how much longer, that always remains to be seen but I'm giving this my all. Kink has had to take a back seat to this as I figure out how to be the rock this relationship needs.

I promise I'll be back to writing regularly shortly with more real life tales to regale. Sit tight dear readers.

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Wrap it up

I looked on in apprehension as she wrapped the plastic around my body. She then proceeded to tape tightly around my every muscle. The feeling of constriction must have shown in my face, because my Mistress suddenly looked pleased. 

"Can you kneel?" She asked. 

I explained that I would try, but that I wasn't certain if could. 

"Then lay back. I won't let you fall," she said.

I was expecting her to let me fall. My pain is her pleasure after all but she surprisingly let me down gently. She sat on top and looked down at me, admiring her work. I looked up, awaiting her instruction. 

When she laid down next to me she started to run her fingers across the plastic. She then started to run the blade across my saran-wrapped body. I did not elicit much of a response and she immediately took notice. 

“You don't seem to be enjoying this.” 

I took a moment to answer. “Yes I am Mistress.” I could sense the impending anger. 

“Don't lie to me,” she said grabbing my face and turning it to hers. “Be honest with me. Are you enjoying this?” 

“Yes Mistress” I responded honestly.

My response was awarded with a swift slap to the face and immediately anger registered upon my face. 

“Are you angry with me?” She said with a laugh. 

As if the very idea of expressing any sort of defiance against her was a joke. 

“A little, Mistress” I replied foolishly. 

She then gave me that dominant look. That look which says I’m just a toy that can be discarded at a moment’s notice. Her response reflected this look. 

“I can find another sub in an instant." She snapped her painted fingertips together. "One that will follow my every instruction. You are very easily replaced,” she said matter of factly.

When she talks to me like this, I feel like less than nothing. If words could kill, then she would be a mass murderer of men's' souls. 

“Do you want to do this?” I knew my answer before she even finished the question. 

“Yes Mistress," I answered again.

I may feel like just an object, but I’m her object. She wanted to test me. She suddenly grabbed a pair of scissors and pointed them straight at my cock. 

“Do you trust me not to cut you?” She asked. 

“Yes mistress” I replied somewhat internally nervous.

I could tell she enjoyed watching me sweat as the scissors inched closer to my manhood. She gently pierced the plastic and cut a hole big enough for my erect cock to fit through. 

“This cock is mine. And I can have it whenever I want it.” 

She then sat on my cock and proceeded to ride me. I was completely overwhelmed with pleasure. I watched her rock back and forth, and I felt like I was in a Paradise. As soon as I began to register this sensation, she removed herself from my body. I don’t think she wanted me to get any ideas. This was all about what she wanted after all. My Mistress retrieved the “cup of shame.” 

“This shouldn't take long.” she said. 

She knew I was on the edge. She immediately grabbed my cock and and began to stroke it hard and fast. I felt as if I was going to explode any second. I looked up at her, with widened eyes. 

“I’m cumming Mistress! I’m cumming!” 

She looked angrily at me. 

“Don't you dare cum on me! You better cum in this cup!” She yelled directly to my face. 

I could feel the semen pouring of me and into the cup. I watched as a massive load poured from the head of my cock. Hot, sweaty and exhausted I looked up at my Mistress. 

 “Good boy,” she said with a smile. "Good boy."

Edited for approval by: Natali Noir
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You don't know Jack!

It's getting to be that time of the year again. It's warm, there's more activities to do outside, people are having a bit more free time, etc. So it's only natural that my inbox start to have an influx of "Pick me please pick me Mistress" messages.

These are always fun to go thru but I have been getting some messages that I've actually responded to. One in particular caught my eye because it was well written and it was actually from a reader of the blog. One thing lead to another and we started exchanging good messages back and forth. We've exchanged pictures and phone numbers, shared some info, tried to see if we're going to mesh well in the kink department. It looks promising.

He (let's call him "Jack") sounds as if he might be a good fit. A perfect fit---which is rare, if at all possible. I've been looking at his pictures on and off since we exchanged them because he is good looking and looks oddly familiar in that general way. Me being a photographer and I...well I enjoy beauty.

Isn't he handsome? (This is the picture he sent me today)

What's that? You say you've seen him before? Well that's impossible! This is my "Jack". Where have you seen him???

Oh you mean the same place I saw him? Online or on television. 
Jack? Cesc? Whatever I'll take you!

Well in that regards you'd be right. You see, this isn't Jack. This is actually a Spanish footballer who plays for FC Barcelona named Cesc Fabregas.

What?! I was talking to someone famous?! *fans self*

It turns out Jack doesn't realize that I'm a smart bitch. I don't just take ANYONE'S words at face value. Especially online. I don't trust these dozens of "men" who want to be perfect for me, who want so badly to be under my heel that they must lie about their very identity. Over the years I've gotten good at spotting the fakes and I almost let this one slip by but too much wasn't adding up. Namely how the hell he was talking to me online in Washington, DC when he was just playing a game back in Barcelona. Oh yeah, I forgot, he must have a teleportation device. I told you Jack was perfect!

If any of you 10,000 readers I get per month want to tell Jack how perfect he is, or just want a chance with him, here's his email (I'm willing to share him):

The sad thing is Jack did have a good personality and I probably would've met him and given him a chance---you know aside from his whole "dishonesty is the best policy" policy.
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Building blocks of trust

The boy has asked for more D/s in his life. 

I've been cautiously giving him a little taste here and there hoping to tide him over until I decide if he's ready for a full course meal. He has now told me he is hungry and he has a craving. 

Externally he can handle nearly everything I want to give him. He's taken the face slapping, ball punching, dick whipping, breath play, and domineering attitude with more stride than I thought he would.

It's the internal things that worry me. The things I can't see. No, I'm not talking about any possible internal harm to vitals I could's those emotional ties. The internal struggle of how to let go of the decisions and power over himself that he is so use to having. The feeling that when I tell him he is worthless to me unless on his knees starts to creep into his insecure crevices.

He hasn't had me fully unleash my psychological domination on him and I have been holding back. I've allowed him to eat what he wants, wear what he desires, watch the things he enjoys, and most of all sit where he pleases. These will all change if he is to fully submit control to me.

One independent building block at a time I will knock them down...
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His cup runneth over

It's been more than three months since the boy stopped coming wherever he so pleased and into a cup. He understands his punishment and while he might not like it, he is always eager to fulfill it.
Not the boy's cup but very similar

I can tell that he does not enjoy it or even look forward to it. Yet he does it anyway. Because he knows this is something that I not only want but command. I am pleased with his progress and the more his cup fills the less I feel angry about his transgressions.

My goal was never to completely fill the cup (though that was always an option) it was simply to remind him that his body as long as he submits to me is mine to use however I see fit.

And now, here he is looming on the 25th and final time he will fill the cup. I leave it up to you dear readers.

How should he finish his punishment? Please vote on the right hand side by May 5th.
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"Whipped" into shape

In the dark, cool basement of the party I listened to the moans and screams of pain and pleasure around me. As my Mistress tied me up in front of the St. Andrews Cross, I could hear the slapping of leather against flesh behind me. To my right, I spotted a woman’s rear turning a shade of crimson as she was spanked repeatedly. 

Once my Mistress finished tying me up, I leaned back against the cross. She must have been able to sense my distraction, as she informed me to shut my eyes. 

 I foolishly asked why she wanted me to do that. My Mistress immediately responded with “Because I said so!" 

As I closed my eyes, I felt her hands run across my chest. The screams and moans of the others continued to echo, acting as a soundtrack to our scene. I felt her tongue brush my nipples before she clamped them. 

There was a brief moment of pause before she became verbal. “You haven’t been following the rules," she yelled at me. 

I must have responded with an air of confusion, because she immediately whipped me. “ Repeat them to me," she demanded.

As I recited each rule, she whipped me repeatedly. 

After reciting all five of them, she replied “You haven’t been calling me by the proper name. You haven’t been calling me anything at all. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

As if she knew the answer to that already, she punished me with a stinging whip across my nipples. I yelled out in pain. My scream went unnoticed amidst the gaggle of pain-filled outbursts flooding the room. I later found out this is when others started to watch our scene.

“Are you going to follow the rules?” She whipped me once more. 

“Yes” I replied. She whipped me again. 

“Yes what?” She said. 

“Yes Mistress” I responded with a trembling voice. 

She then started whipping me frantically across my chest, legs, and midsection. My body began trembling uncontrollably and whimpers escaped my mouth. My nipples were in an immense amount of pain. I believe she was aware of this, but she didn’t seem to care and may have even laughed but I can't be sure. I could feel tears forming in my eyes. My screams of pain again meshed with the others.  She whipped me for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she let up. I was left gasping for breath before I collapsed in a pile on the floor...

Edited for approval by: Natali Noir
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It had only been a week or so since our scene at the play party, the one where I made him cry.

The intensity correlating between his eagerness to gain forgiveness and my blatant hostility to forgive him made our next session even more raw.

I don't recall how things started. I just remember that one moment we were sitting on the couch and the next I was tying him to a pillar in my house. Wrapping his entire body from head to toe in rope. I secured his hands and feet in separate ropes and left nothing exposed aside from his penis and nipples. I saw him shift uncomfortably against the wooden beam knew I was happy with my ties.

I didn't blindfold him this time.
I know all about you

I wanted him to see exactly what was coming as I reached for the clothespin. I got close to him and rubbed his nipples until they were erect. He moaned in pleasure.
I have run you down into the ground  

I lowered my lips to his ears and whispered, "Tonight you're mine."

I took his most sensitive nipple between my teeth and bit down hard. He yelped. I quickly clipped a clothespin on each nipple, pulling them excessively hard in the process.
Do you have an opinion? 

I rubbed my lips across his and across his face and slapped it hard and then his thighs. They were already red from me repeatedly doing so earlier. He opened his mouth for a kiss from me but I turned my face away.
I'm living without you 

 I took his cock in my hand and began to stroke. All the while placing clothespins along his scrotum. He didn't move. I stepped back admiring his stiffness. I began flogging his thighs, his arms, the clothespins on his nipples and even his feet. He groaned and moaned and tried to turn away from the flogger but its tails snapped against his skin.

I went back to stroking him. He had his eyes closed when the paddle slapped down on his cock head. They shot open and he stared at me in disbelief. This was as rough as I'd ever been with his gentials.
I thought you were special

I continued paddling it until it looked like he couldn't take anymore.

"Don't come!" I yelled at him.

"No, no, I won't," he said breathlessly.

I asked him if he thought he deserved to come.

"I just want to come where you want Mistress," he answered.

I got on my knees (but not for what I'm sure he was thinking) and proceeded to bite his cock all along the shaft and then his thighs, the ones that had to be beyond tender after all their abuse.

"Ahhh, oh god, ahh," he yelled. I knew he was in pain and I liked it. 

"You acted like trash. Maybe that's where you should come," I threatened yanking his cock in the direction of the rubbish bin.

He squeezed his eyes shut, I'm assuming preparing for such. I squeezed him tightly in my hands. He grew harder. I took the flogger from where it sat on the ground and placed its handle against his windpipe pressing the back of his head against the beam. I pressed until I could see him struggling for air.

"You don't deserve to come on me any longer," I said softly staring him in the eyes.

"Do you want to prove to me how sorry you really are?" I asked already knowing the answer.

He struggled against the flogger handle nodding in agreement.

I dug my nails into his penis releasing the flogger from his throat. He breathed in and out gulping air.
Now you're here and begging for a chance 

"Do you?" I rose my voice and asked.

I swung the flogger down across his hard cock.

"Yes, yes Mistress," he struggled to say.

I flogged his penis again and again and again. I could hear the tails whipping the air on their way down so I knew they were stinging his skin but he stayed hard.

"You want my forgiveness? You can earn it by coming in a cup from now on. You will come in a cup from now on and drink it when I think you've learned never to lie to me again," I explained.

Before he could agree I walked away to get a cup and returned to stroke him. I did it much harder than I know he does himself. I kept going faster and faster until his pleas turned to whining then I would slow down but then speed up again. I kept bringing him to the brink until I was ready for him to come.

"Are you ready to come into this cup for your Mistress?"

He nodded and squirmed as I continued clutching his cock. I could feel him twitching beneath my fingers and knew he was close. I brought the cup closer and aimed as best as I could with one hand but it didn't all quite make it. He came some on my arm and I was annoyed. 

I put the cup down and grabbed the paddle.

I hit his penis.


"...on me!" I screamed at him.

I thought you were special,
I thought you should know 
But I've run out of patience,

I've run out of comments 

I couldn't care less
I'm looking for a new ...

The cup being half empty will now bear a new meaning to him.
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White lies lead to red asses Pt. 2

I said the words more sternly than I had intended but I still enjoyed the effect of his wide eyes and immediate obedience.

He stripped down to his undies and stood before me hands neatly behind his back.

I looked down at the underwear disapprovingly over the rim of my glasses.

"You won't be needing those," I told him as I yanked them down around his ankles.

I had no patience for fancy rope work so I tied his hands together tightly leaving little wiggle room between the two and I secured him to the bench. He started to speak but I cut him off.

"The only words I want to hear tonight are sorry or the safeword. Understand?" I said.

"Yes Miss," was his quiet reply.

I tied the rope around his waist leaving a little bit of a lead so I could pull him around like a lost puppy. I directed him to the bondage table with the cage underneath and laid him down face up. I instructed him to close his eyes and he did as told.

I raked my nails across his legs and thighs watching his skin goosebump in the process. I did it again and again working my way up to his balls where I dug them in deeply causing him to let a small squeak escape. When he started to get hard I stopped and told him to open his eyes.

"All warmed up?" I asked.

"Yes Miss," he replied.

"Good, now follow me and get on that," I said pointing to the spanking bench.

"How do I get on there?" he asked quizzically.

I smirked at his newbie-ness but used his body as demonstration on how I wanted him to approach it. Once he was properly on the bench I grabbed a handful of his hair in a tight fist.

"I'm not going to go on easy on you," I said into his ear.

He gulped but didn't say a word.

I began biting his back and attacking his arms fiercely with my teeth. He flinched but stayed steady. I began pinching his nipples so tightly my fingertips turned white until he let out a yelp. I put my mouth on them and he thought he was getting reprieve but I took them between my front teeth and gnawed on them. This made him physically try to escape from my gasp but I bit harder as I grabbed his hair to keep him in place.

"Keep still!" I ordered him.

He went as rigid as a board.

I stood up and walked to get Bianca. I knew this was a time I wanted her at my side. He strained to see where I was but was unable to due to his secure position. Without warning I came up from behind him and smacked his bare bottom with the paddle. He said nothing. I increased speed and intensity quickly until you could hardly tell one smack from the next. He was breathing fast now and he hardly had time to catch his breath.

"This is what happens when you're dishonest with me," I spoke over the paddle.

"This is what happens to liars," I said as I switched to my dominant hand.

I spanked him hard. Harder than I had ever spanked him before. I looked at his face and his lips were pursed together tightly. He was taking all the pain I could give him.

I am the best thing that will ever happen to you.

I do not tolerate being lied to.

You don't deserve me or my feelings.

You will earn my forgiveness.

I took a break as my hand was stinging and his ass was reddening but I didn't stop torturing his body. The more I pinched, scratched, and bit him I whispered more personally affecting words to him. All of which I knew were hitting close to home emotionally.

"For three months you lied to me, three months! That's 90 days." I calculated verbally.

"Yes, Miss. I'm so--," he began to say.

"Bullshit! If you were sorry you wouldn't have done it. But now you'll be paying for it. You will take 90 spanks. Without whining, do you understand?" I asked.

"Yes Miss, I understand and I just wanted t--," he began speaking again.

"Shut up! I don't want to hear your excuses or ill-timed apologies right now. Just shut up and take what you deserve," I spat at him.

I pushed his head down. I didn't want him looking at me, he didn't deserve even that.

"Count them out," I commanded him.

I started at the level of firmness I had left off on and kept up the strength. He wasn't getting off easy. I had promised him (and myself) that much. With each slap his ass grew more and more red matching the scratch marks on his back. It looked a bit painful but I didn't care. I wanted him to feel pain and nothing else. He wasn't my boyfriend in that moment, he was the sub that was dishonest. He would see no leniency.

When he hit the 80s his body began to shake uncontrollably and he wasn't speaking as clearly as he was before. I didn't stop dishing out the pain. Harder and harder I hit him. He was rising slightly off the bench, trying to get out my reach but there was no where I couldn't reach him.

"And do 10 more just because," I said when we had reached 90.

I kept going without missing a beat (no pun intended) and as soon as I finished I saw why his body was shaking...

He was crying.

Full on tears streaming down his face. He was trying to muffle his cries but couldn't get himself together.

"I'm sorry Miss, I'm so sorry, I wish I had never lied. I don't deserve you. You are my everything and I ruined it. I'm so sorry...I'm so," he spoke between his cries.

I put Bianca down, pulled him off the bench and went to sit on the nearby couch. I covered him lightly with a blanket and held him in my arms. His hands still bound together, his head rested on my chest, his tears running down my breasts.

He just kept repeating how sorry he was.

"I'll never lie to you again Miss, I'll never hurt you again," he promised.

"I know you won't because next time I'm gone..." I said under my breath.

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White lies lead to red asses Pt. 1

It started without thought and intensified very quickly. Within moments I was beating him bare-handed over and over, not fully in control of myself, until his ass reddened commanding him to apologize.

I imagine finding out that he had lied to me indiscriminately didn't help but add fuel to the fire but if the house was burning down, he was going with it.

It all started three weeks ago when I asked my boyfriend a very important question.

"Will you be my submissive in training?"

I rarely get nervous but I nearly forgot to breathe as the words fell from my lips.

Almost without hesitation he answered, "Yes".

This angered me.

This was an important question for me and he was answering as if I had just asked if he wanted a glass of wine. I expected some deliberation, some soul-searching thoughts, and most of all time to process what it meant.

I chided him and told him exactly that. He responded with mention that he already was submissive to me, so this couldn't be "that much different".

I needed him to understand what this meant to me. I spent time explaining myself, my fetishes, what I expected of my submissive, how much additional work this could entail, and most of all how it wouldn't always be fun for him.

I thought we were making progress, even if he looked a bit overwhelmed when I tried explaining the difference between a bottom, submissive, switch, and slave. But he hung in there and asked questions and generally seemed like he had an interests in certain aspects of the lifestyle himself.

Then I found out he had lied to me---had been for the past three months.

I wasn't as angry as I should've been at first, mainly because I caught him and I was absorbed in the satisfaction of my righteousness. But then it hit me. He LIED to me. Breaking the one relationship rule I had asked him not to at the start of things. It doesn't matter why he chose to seek other women's company outside of the relationship, all that matters is that he did and he lied about it. The fact that it never moved to any in-person meeting and physical interaction was the only silver lining but it didn't curb my anger.

Two days later we were slated to attend our first rope party together. It was a previous RSVP and as much as I wanted to back out he wanted to go. Perhaps he wanted to prove how open-minded he was but I think a lot of it was trying to gain my forgiveness.

I only agreed because I hadn't decided if he was worth my continued time or not and because I didn't want to back out at the last minute as I know that can be frustrating for party host.

I packed my play bag albeit non-enthusiastically but I packed it nonetheless. Rope, paddle, lube, clothespins, all ready to go.

I tried to mask my emotions during the party, play the good couple, introduce him to this side of my life with a smile but it was a struggle. Half way through the party we had made our way downstairs to the equipment. We hung out with others before branching off to be alone in the room with the spanking bench, bondage swing, and bondage table with a cage.

This is where I started to feel more like a Mistress and less like his hurt girlfriend.

"Take off your shirt and pants," I said as I reached into my bag for rope, "We need to talk."
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