THIS MATERIAL MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR THOSE UNDER 18.
So if you are under 18, a right wing republican christian or anyone else who is offended by nudity, vulgarity and/or a wanton disrespect for societal norms, consider yourself warned and leave. Oh and might I add, "If thine eyes offend thee, PLUCK THEM OUT". Just don't complain!


~The more defects a man may have, the older he is, the less lovable, the more resounding his success.~
Marquis de Sade


"Allow me to be frank at the commencement. You will not like me. The gentlemen will be envious and the ladies will be repelled. You will not like me now and you will like me a good deal less as we go on. Ladies, an announcement: I am up for it, all the time. That is not a boast or an opinion, it is bone hard medical fact. I put it round you know. And you will watch me putting it round and sigh for it. Don't. It is a deal of trouble for you and you are better off watching and drawing your conclusions from a distance than you would be if I got my tarse up your petticoats. Gentlemen. Do not despair, I am up for that as well. And the same warning applies. Still your cheesy erections till I have had my say. But later when you shag - and later you will shag, I shall expect it of you and I will know if you have let me down - I wish you to shag with my homuncular image rattling in your gonads. Feel how it was for me, how it is for me and ponder. 'Was that shudder the same shudder he sensed? Did he know something more profound? Or is there some wall of wretchedness that we all batter with our heads at that shining, livelong moment. That is it. That is my prologue, nothing in rhyme, no protestations of modesty, you were not expecting that I hope. " from The Libertine and the bottom of Nic's dark soul.

There is in every madman a misunderstood genius whose idea, shining in his head, frightened people, and for whom delirium was the only solution to the strangulation that life had prepared for him.
~Antonin Artaud

I hurt myself today.....to see if i still feel......I focus on the pain......the only thing thats real......The needle tears a hole.....the old familiar sting........try to kill it all away..........but I remember everything........what have I become, my sweetest friend .........everyone i know, goes away in the end.......and you could have it all, my empire of dirt........I will let you down..........I will make you hurt..........I wear this crown of thorns.....upon my liars chair......full of broken thoughts.........I cannot repair..........beneath the stains of time........the feelings dissapear.......you are someone else..........I am still right here.........What have I become, my sweetest friend..........everyone I know, goes away in the end...........and you could have it all, my empire of dirt..........I will let you down............I will make you hurt...........if I could start again, a million miles away..........I will keep myself..........I would find a way.......NINE INCH NAILS







Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Photo Shoot-Part 1

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She wasn’t looking for anything, she had everything she needed. Victoria was in the prime of her life; a model who had a well established career internationally and who had found a man that was everything to her. His name was Jarrod, but she called him Master in the privacy of their home. They had been together for several years and he knew her as no other man ever had; she had never really known satisfaction until she met him.

Jarrod was several years her senior and an established partner in a law firm when they met at a party. A woman she knew had invited her, and she had nothing else planned so gladly accepted. What she didn’t know was that her friend had been talking to Jarrod about her for some time. He had seen the two women out at a club and was impressed with Victoria’s exterior beauty (as most men were), but he wanted to know more about her, before talking to her. By the time he went to the party he knew as much as he could about her, without actually knowing her. He knew what she drank, what her taste in music was, what artist and authors she liked; that she liked to travel and that she had been in a number of unsatisfying relationships. He also knew that she had no lifestyle experience.

They were introduced by their mutual friend and from that moment her life was changed. She ended up at his apartment that night, where they drank wine and talked in front of the fireplace until he wrapped his hands in her long blonde hair and put his mouth to hers. She felt his hand on her breast and put hers to his, not to remove it but to assist. Her nipples became erect and pushed against the sheer fabric; he could feel the one under his palm and began to squeeze it. She felt pain, but was not repelled by it; instead she just surrendered. From that moment on she was his and though she owned her own apartment, found herself living with him as he wanted her to. He introduced her to things she had never experienced and over a period of time learned to tolerate pain in the pursuit of pleasure. He knew there were some things that could not be done; that her career as a model prohibited her from being marked in any area that might be exposed, but it made no difference to him. She was bright and beautiful and offered herself to him as no other ever had. If ever there was a match made in heaven, then this would be it.

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To say she wanted to please her Master would be an understatement, there was nothing that he could ask that she would not submit to willingly; she knew he would not intentionally harm her. Her desire to please even allowed her to pose for him in ways she would never pose for another; raw and sexual scenes that could destroy her career if made public, but she knew he would never share them or her.

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She found it was easier and more exciting to be his fetish model, than being exposed to the multitudes in magazines wearing bathing suits or high fashion. He was able to capture her true nature, unlike any fashion photographer.

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Her professional photo shoots varied in duration and location which caused her to be absent from his side at times, but she would call every evening as any dutiful girl should and report on the events of the day. When he knew she was flying home he would instruct her as to what to wear and where to meet him.

“Dress as the slut you are to me. When you arrive at the airport; I want people to stare and hide their children’s eyes. You are to wear no undergarments, the sheerest blouse you can find and a very short, tight skirt. I want you dressing like a common whore and acting like one too. You will go to the airport lounge and wait for me.” It was a game he liked playing. He would sometimes sit at a table and watch her as men approached her offering to buy her drinks and sometimes offering money for sex. She declined all offers with a mixed sense of accomplishment and embarrassment; she knew it was what he wanted, but she was often grossed out by drunks and classless men who made obscene suggestions.

Eventually he would go to the bar and in an audible voice say “I want to take you to my place and fuck you, how much?”

She would whisper in his ear, “For you nothing”, but it appeared as if she were quoting her charges.

“That much, you better be worth it, or I will get my money’s worth in some other way!!” He’d look around the room t to make sure his voice had been heard and then take her by the arm and lead her out of the bar as if leading a hooker to his car. She didn’t like the role play, but it was what he wanted and there was a certain rush inside of her as she played the role all the way to his car. On one occasion she was a bit too convincing and they had to convince a vice-cop that they were just playing and that she was actually his girl.

She was on a shoot in Florida which wasn’t a bad job considering the week she got to spend at a private estate with a private beach, but it did mean being away from her master and that was never something she enjoyed. There were five models in all, varying in age; she was the oldest, the most experienced and the photographer’s favorite. His name was Valentino and he was in his late 20’s; an Italian-American from New York who was considered an up and comer in the fashion industry for having provided Vogue with some of its more alluring covers. He had a policy of not getting involved with the models, though several of the younger girls had tried desperately to seduce him. Maybe that was why he liked Victoria; she had an air about her that was seductive, but it was for the camera and not the photographer.

She called her master every evening to report the day’s events and on several occasions had mentioned Valentino. Her master was not a jealous man, but he was curious about the relationship she had with this particular photographer and decided to fly down to spend the remainder of the week with his girl. He told her that he would book a suite at a South Miami hotel and that she was to invite everyone to a little party after the shoot was over making sure that the photographer accepted the invitation. She was not sure why he wanted to have this gathering, but being his devoted servant did as ordered and asked that she be given time off to pick him up at the airport. She called her Master to let him know that his invitation had been accepted and that she would pick him up at the airport; as usual he told her what to wear and where to meet him.

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When Jarrod exited baggage pick-up he went to the airport bar and found her sitting on a stool, she was wearing a very tight pair of cut-off Levi shorts; so tight and so short that only a very thin strip of fabric was left on either side of seam that ran from the zipper to the backside. She could feel the seam press into her thong and cunt causing her enough discomfort that she couldn’t sit still on the bar stool. He top consisted of a shirt with cut off sleeves that was unbuttoned and tied at her midriff. To look at her you would not know she was a top model, but might think she was cheap trailer trash; it was the look he had described. There was an empty stool to her left and standing on her right side was a young sailor in uniform. Jarrod walked up to her asked, “Is this stool taken?”

She looked in his eyes and knew the game he wanted to play. “That depends; can you afford to buy me a drink?”

The sailor leaned in as if to claim his place, but Victoria ignored him. “Hey I was here first!”

“Sorry Hon, but you can’t afford me and this gentleman looks like he can” She didn’t have to look the sailor in the eye to know he was pissed.

“Fucking whore” was all the sailor said as he pushed away from the bar.

“Well, can you afford me Hon?” she asked her Master trying to keep a straight face, but before Jarrod could respond the bartender asked her to take her business elsewhere. She slid off the stool revealing the seam captured in her pussy. “Well are we going to date or do I have to go home alone?”

Jarrod grabbed his bag in one hand and squeezed her ass with the other one. “You’ll do, follow me” She followed him out of the airport, but once outside took him to her rental car. He threw his bag in the back and then pressed her up against the trunk. “Those shorts look uncomfortable, why don’t you open them up” Before she could respond, she felt his fingers slip into the waistband, pop the button and slide the zipper down. Her eyes darted from side to side afraid that someone would see them, but knew he didn’t care. He slid his hand under the thong and followed the seam of the shorts into her moist cunt, then removed his wet finger, smelled and then tasted it. “Yeah you’ll do, get into the car” Victoria rolled off the trunk and crawled into the passenger seat while Jarrod opened the driver’s side. “Take off your shorts and thong.” She could feel her heart pound; she was afraid of being caught and yet she knew she could not say no. She pressed her back against the seat back, raised her ass and slid the garments down. Jarrod leaned into her and untied the shirt which fell open. “Nice” was all he said as he cupped her breasts then he leaned in and took her nipple in his mouth. She was excited and her nipple was firm between his teeth; as he rolled the nipple between his teeth he brought his left hand up her thigh and forced her to spread her legs; her cunt was now open and visibly wet. “Let’s consider this a test drive” he said pushing fingers into her open slit.

“Whatever you say Sir, the customer is always right” she knew it was only a matter of time before someone would walk by, but didn’t care. She moved with his hand and imagined his cock swelling inside of her, she was a whore and he was her “John”; a total stranger using her in an airport parking lot. Her moans increased in number and volume as he became rougher with her pussy and sucked harder at her nipple. Her left hand was on his leg and began to rub his swollen cock through the fabric of his pants until she found his zipper and released it.

“Slut, you want that? Well let’s see just how good you are” He had turned in his seat; his erect cock pointing in her direction. He wrapped his right hand in her hair and forced her face into his lap; instinctively she opened her mouth and took his meaty protuberance in. while the fingers of his left hand continued to work her cunt. She no longer worried about passer-bys or being caught; she only wanted to satisfy him and be satisfied by him. She felt his cock become even more rigid and choked. “What’s wrong slut, can’t you handle it?” She didn’t respond, but instead went down harder on him. “Good girl, very good; now swallow” She felt his cum flood her mouth and swallowed; it was hot, salty and sweet. She drained him and continued to nurse at his flaccid tool until he raised her head in the same manner he had brought it down. “Now for your payment” he said focusing on her pussy. He knew exactly where to touch and how as he drew his forefinger across her clit each time he pushed it in.

“Please sir, please; please may I cum” she pleaded, but he wanted her to wait. His touch was to the point of being unbearable when she was finally permitted her release. She came around his fingers, through his fingers and onto the seat of the rental car. He continued to rub and she came three more times; by the time he withdrew his fingers she was sitting in a puddle of her own making. “Thank you sir, you are too good to me”

“That was fun; now let’s get out of here. But I want you to remain just as you are” She knew he was serious and did her best to cover herself with her hands as they exited the parking lot. Once they were away from the parking lot he put the convertible top down and as they drove down the interstate towards Miami her hair and her blouse blew in the wind. Male motorist caught glimpses of her breasts, but it was the truckers who could look down on her exposed pussy that often gave him thumbs up. As they entered the city traffic he allowed her to pull the shorts up and re-tie her shirt. The walk through the hotel lobby to the desk achieved the same reaction they had at the airport and the desk clerk went so far as to ask their relationship.

“Why she is my darling little whore” Jarrod said, “Now give me the best suite you have>”

The desk clerk was dumbfounded; he had seen it all including men and sometimes women with a high class escort or call girl on their arm, but Victoria looked like an actress trying out for the part of Daisy Duke. “Yes sir, will you or the young lady need help with your bags”

“No, I have mine and she hasn’t got one” He knew his response would further the charade that Victoria was nothing more than a cheap whore. He grabbed the key and his bag and walked to the elevator while Victoria respectfully walked behind him.

Once in the room, he wasted no time stripping her and fucking her until her pussy felt almost raw. “Sir, I think you’ve missed me”

“That and I wanted to mark my territory, without leaving a mark your Valentino might see; or will he?”

“Sir, he may see a lot of me, but never get to see what is yours; besides he doesn’t screw around with the models”

“Is he gay? How can he look at bodies like yours all day and not want it if offered?”

“I don’t think he’s gay, but I have seen him reject some pretty hot women when they came on to him”

“Well tonight you are going to try to seduce him and I am going to watch; so clean up, get dressed and go back to work while I set things up for tonight’s party.” She begged him not to have her do this, it was not only her work, but the photographer respected her and she liked that respect. “Just do as you are told”

She knew once his mind was made up that her pleas were only falling on deaf ears. “Yes sir, I will do it for you” She showered, put on her costume and grabbed the car keys. “I love you sir” she said as she kissed him good-bye. “People will start arriving around 8:30, I will see you then.

She opened the door and as she walked through it heard him say, “I love you too, slut” When she got off the elevator she saw the desk clerk and winked. The one nice thing about the ride back to the estate was she no longer had to sit in her own wet spot, which was drying and leaving a white ring on the fabric.......................continued

Posted at 08:58 am by BondageMaster

 

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My Extended Profile


I have been both a Master and Dom in the BDSM lifestyle for 40 years. I am currently in Sin City, (Las Vegas, Nevada), but I have plied my art all over the country and yes, the giving of pain and pleasure is an art.

I started this because I thought there might be an interaction between myself and like minded individuals, but found most willing to look and not speak; for this reason I have eliminated the tag board and your ability to comment (Consider yourself gagged).

My Blog has become a reflective self analysis and has enabled Me to vent. It has reflected on my childhood, BDSM and it has been a place to share poetry, stories, and art; all erotic in their own way

Having written here for over three years, I realized that I wanted this to be the home of My impure thoughts and deeds; I decided to create another home for the menusha that comes to mind. I created Alt-Thinkining for those who have an interest in my political and social side and who might be appauled or offended by My more carnal thoughts (I love My carnal thoughts ).

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Dominant

I am a dominant man. I am just that. I am not dominant because of any superiority on my part. Not because I feel I am more intelligent,or wiser. I do not dominate because of the strength or mass of my body. I am not, nor would I want to be dominant with all women. Yet to you, I am Master.



I am your Master only after earning your trust and and embracing your submissiveness. I have looked into your heart and mind and clearly see your desires and passions. You have thrown away your fears and inhibitions. You tell me of the needs of your heart and body. You have given me total access to your soul, and I accept the responsibility and honor.



You are a woman. You are not weak and inferior because of it. You are a treasure to be cherished. We are not equal. I have the strength of body and mind, and the instinctive need to protect, possess, defend, and provide for you. You are a woman and instinctively stronger of will and heart. Your belief in me gives me courage and direction. Your strength disperses my doubt. Your needs and desires encourage and give purpose to my efforts.



We are not equal. We are halves of a whole. We compliment each other and make each other complete. My desire to dominate you is instinctive. It is not to degrade you nor is it degrading to you because you are secure in being totally feminine. We recognize and accept our worth, and our need for someone to trust and fulfill our needs.



You are sure, strong and proud in your womanhood. You do not submit as acceptance of inferiority, but from strength and passion. You expect a man to stand strong and be a man. You desire and flourish in the strength and control of a man. In return you present the control of your body, unqualified trust and honesty and the faithfulness of your heart.



You submit because I have earned your trust. Because I have opened my heart and soul to you. Because I have listened to your words with my ears and heart and have learned to anticipate your needs and emotions. And because I have proven worthy in your eyes, you have given me the only true treasure of life; You have given me dominance over you.



What you give is not abnormal, but pure, natural and the rarest gift a woman can give a man. You have given me complete and unshakable assurance of your commitment to me. Your submissiveness is a magnificent gift and sacred responsibility. I accept this from you with humility and joy. I understand the rarity and purity of this gift. I recognize it is your body and soul, your heart and mind.

I dominate only because you have allowed me too and when I see you kneel before me, in my mind and heart, you are raised above all other women, and all the treasures on the earth. What you give freely cannot in reality be bought.

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And From a Submissive Woman

I find pleasure, joy, and fulfillment from being submissive to another in a loving relationship. I am not weak, or stupid. I am a strong woman, with firm views and a clear concept of what I want out of my life. I do not serve out of shame or weakness, but out of pride and strength. I look to my loving Master for guidance and protection, for never am I more complete than when he is with me. I know that he will protect my body, my mind, and my soul with his strength and wisdom.

He is everything to me, as I am everything to him. His touch awakens me and his thoughts free me. Only in serving him do I find complete freedom and joy. His punishments are harsh, but I accept them thankfully, knowing that he has my best interests always foremost in his mind. If he desires my body for pleasure, I shall joyfully give it to him, and take pleasure myself from knowing that I have brought him happiness. However, the pleasure of the flesh is but one facet of any relationship. The love, the trust and sharing, the words spoken and felt, those are all parts of this relationship.

My body is his, and if he says I am beautiful, then I am. No matter what I look like to others, I am beautiful in his eyes, and because of that I hold my head high... .. for who can tell me that my Master is wrong in seeing the beauty in me? If he says I am his princess, then I am that...regal and graceful. And if I see laughter at me in the eyes of others, I do not recognize it, for who are they to call my Master wrong?

If he says I am his toy, his slut, his tramp, then I am that...as wanton and dirty as he wants me to be, and if others do not see this, then it is they who are blind, not my Master. My mind is his, to expand, to explore, to know as only he can. I have no secrets from him...for secrets are a thing that would keep me from being more perfectly his. Secrets would put a wall up between my Master and myself...and I do not want walls.

His lessons are not always ones I would seek on my own, but they are lessons he has decided I need, and so I learn from him. My soul is his, as bare to his touch as ever my skin could be when I kneel naked at his feet. Never a moment goes by when I do not feel his presence, be he miles away or standing over me.

I spend my days knowing that the energy and thought he puts into our relationship is as much for my benefit as for his, and look forward to each lovingly crafted scene that we do together.

His part is much harder than mine, and I know this and am grateful that he cares enough about me to spend his time and energy so freely on me. I have the easier job: to feel, to experience, to let myself go and abandon everything to him. I am his pleasure and his responsibility, and he takes both seriously. I am a submissive woman. I am proud to call myself that. My submission is a gift that I do not give lightly, and can only be given to one who can appreciate that gift and return it tenfold.

Only to he who has that strength will I give myself fully, because I am strong and proud.

I am a submissive woman.


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"For women the best aphrodisiacs are words,
The G-spot is in the ears"~Isabel Allende



Things I Had To Hide
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Long Stories

(Series)

Shaking the Family Tree Chapter I
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter II
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter III
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter IV
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter V
Shaking the Family Tree -The Music Lover

Conjuring Adonis I
Conjuring Adonis II
Conjuring Adonis III
Conjuring Adonis IV

Dream Lover I
Dream Lover II
Dream Lover III

Vlad's Lesson Plan
Vlad's Next Semester
Vlad's Final Lesson
Vlad's Beginning
Vlad's Resurrection Part 1
Vlad's Resurrection Part II

The Libertine of Libby Part 1
The Libertine of Libby Part 2
The Libertine of Libby Part 3
The Libertine of Libby Part 4
The Tawdry Tale of Tommy Two Tongues Part 1
The Tawdry Tale of Tommy Two Tongues Part 2
The Tawdry Tale of Tommy Two Tongues Part 3
The Libertine of Libby Part 5
The Libertine of Libby Part 6
The Libertine of Libby Part 7
The Libertine of Libby Part 8
The Libertine of Libby Part 9
The Libertine of Libby Part 10 (Last Chapter)

j's Seduction
j's Objectification
Recreating j
Educating j

The Photo Shoot Part 1
The Photo Shoot Part 2

Electra's Story Part 1
Electra's Story Part 2

Sunday's Child Part 1

Short Stories
(For those seeking immediate gratification)

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The Book
Dessert
De Sade, the Orgy and the Trial
I Cum In Peace
Biting My Way Into The New Year
Her Master's Test
Off White, Six Defective Doms and One Pathetic Troll
Going Postal
StepfordSlaves
Liberation
The New Year's Party

Nocturnal Events
Nocturnal Emissions
Death
Love's Garden
Patty On A Leash/Re-written
To Confess or Not To confess
Binding of Kay
Raising Bella Donna
One Last Good-bye
Spare the Rod, Spoil the Sub
Stella In The Stacks
Red Rain
Misjudged
Breakfast With A Twist
Mon Couer's Papillon (My Heart's Butterfly)
When Daddy's Girl is Bad
The Sitter, The Voyeur and Graduation Day
Please Don't Hurt Me
Cumalot or Knights In Tarnished Armor
Her Halloween Date
His Voice
Life's Little Ironies
The Gift
My Slut ester
Beads
Playing With Toyosi
The Slave Auction
#9 - A Detective Story

Ramblings and Observations
(For those who want a piece of My mind)

Puppy Love
Cunniliguis As A Religious Rite
Players, Pretenders and Abusers
Edgeplay and the Knife
My Youth
Submission
BDSM Website Security
Pain
On Missing Play
Beads a Semi-Fictional Account
Playing With Toyosi or How To Torture A Scammer
Hospital Stories


Photo Interpretations
(As I See It)
La Image'
La Image' II
The Shower
Lips
My Toy
Waiting
Daddy's Girl
Blossom
Chocolate and Roses
Special Delivery
Waiting II
Orgasm
Edge Play
Cocktails
This Flesh
Smoke
Eve
Illusion
Disillusion
Passion
Watching
Not Watching
Intimacy
Tango 2
Inside of You
Dreamscape
Demons
Despair
Spent
Mentally bound
His Flower
Her Grief

Poetry of a sort
(very little rhymes)

Tango
Shadows
Faded Words on Yellowing Paper
I Was
submissive position

Bound
Ladies of the Night





Bedtime Stories
(Fables)
My Love Fable
Pond of Sorrow and Tears
The Journey


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Extreme Body Modification
(Warning some of these photos may offend, even people with twisted minds)


Links


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