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 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 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

Monday, October 31, 2005
Vlad's Lesson Plan

When Vlad Tepes moved onto the block, it was clear that there was something unique about him. He was a tall man of eastern European heritage, with dark hair and darker eyes. To the residents of the small mid-western town he appeared to be out of place; he was more sophisticated than his neighbors and because he was a “foreigner”, he was suspect. He had been hired to teach European history at the College of St. Mary - a private women’s college.

Most of the women at the college were in the nursing program and the Medieval European History course was offered strictly as an elective. In part, it was a class to teach how Catholicism had advanced during the period, but it also taught the young women about the societal and cultural advances. It was a time when names like Medici, and Borgia were linked with the church and Galileo, Copernicus and da Vinci were criticized for teaching theories that challenged the church. It was a time of romance and intrigue, and Vlad was the perfect choice to instruct these young minds, because he made it come alive for them. For this reason, there wasn’t a vacant seat in any of his classes.

He generally taught from ancient texts – old leather-bound manuscripts that couldn’t be found in any bookstore. Many were written in Latin, some in Greek but the text he used that changed their lives was written in Hungarian (his ancestral tongue). He would dim the lights and stand in front of the class with a single spotlight on his face. The women would focus on his dark eyes as he read and one by one become entranced. His voice could be heard as he spoke of a Hungarian prince who fought to drive the Turks from the Danube River Valley, but that was all that the women could remember of the class.

Vlad would watch as his “ladies” succumbed to his mesmerizing voice and then, one at a time he would lead them into the classes book room. He would remove his pants and lay on the table revealing his large cock, while the girls in a trance like state would climb on top of him and lower themselves down on it. Each in her own time would rock with her clit firmly placed against his flesh. As each reached the point of climax; he bit down gently. The women felt nothing but a sensual pleasure course through their bodies as their cum mingled with his and their blood fed his thirst. One by one they would enter and leave to return to their seats in the classroom. When he had satiated himself on the last girl’s nectar, he would wipe his mouth put on his pants and return to the class. Slowly he would bring them out of the trance telling them that they had just been read a very sensual love story from an ancient Romanian text. He would tell them to ignore the small bite on their necks and that he would see them in a week.

The girls left the class, each with her pussy moist from the encounter, but they never discussed this condition. Each felt a little embarrassed to admit that they became aroused and wet listening to a story they couldn’t even remember. The punctures healed much like flea bites would and the following week, they returned to his class. Again the lights were lowered, with the exception of the spotlight on his face. Again the young women fell into a trance like state and were led to the bookroom. This time he would lay them on the table with their legs spread. He would lick each ones cunt with a tongue that was almost canine in appearance. He would sense when the moment of their climax was approaching and take their clits into his mouth as his fangs entered the soft labial flesh. There was no pain, just that sense of pleasure beyond any they had ever known. When the last girl had satisfied his hunger, he wiped his mouth and returned to the classroom. Once again the lights were raised and the girls were told that they had enjoyed yet another Romanian story while this time the bite was attributed to a sharp fingernail that caught the labia as they had masturbated the night before.

Again the girls left with an amazing glow. They would return to their dorm rooms and apply a soothing gel to the bites, suspecting that they had been caused by some rough edge on their nails. As the gel was applied to their engorged labial lips, each closed her eyes and drifted as their arousal brought on another climax.

When the class next met, the trance was almost immediate. He led each to the bookroom where they were made to bend over the table while grasping its edges. He brought his long fingers up through each girls pussy, and delivered their wet silken moisture to their respective anuses. While rubbing he applied just enough pressure to the sphincter to encourage its opening and then he brought his cock to the gate and pressed it in. Each girl responded in kind, there was no resistance to his desires; only their desire to please him and be pleased by him. His cock was driven into each, while his fingers rubbed at their swollen clits. He pricked his finger and put it to their mouths just as they came. They fed on the blood as if they were taking his cum into their mouths, sucking at it like hungry children. When the third encounter was completed he returned to the class. Each girl sat in a stupor as if drunk on his blood.

He stood before the class of young women and told them that their final would take place that evening. It was after all Halloween and what more appropriate night for Vlad’s girls to go forth and feed on the rural town’s people. The school that had hired him to teach about the Catholic influence during the medieval period had neglected to note the historical significance of his name. Vlad Tepes or rather Prince Vlad III, Prince of Walachia in what was then Hungary was also known as Vlad the Impaler. He had killed and impaled 20,000 Turks on pikes to repel the Turkish invasion. Now this descendent of the infamous Dracula chose to impale young women on his cock, before sending them out to seduce and conquer his new kingdom. Vlad went to his Jaguar and drove off as his girls began their fucking and feeding frenzy on the locals. The License plate on the bumper of the Jag was his own disclaimer “IBITE”

Posted at 05:10 pm by BondageMaster

December 30, 2005   07:44 AM PST
mmm - maybe he'll cum to a school nearby ;-)
November 14, 2005   08:11 AM PST
I am a new reader to your blog but I thoroughly enjoyed this little tale and loved the license plate disclaimer LOL
November 1, 2005   08:51 PM PST
there have got to be sequels to this story!

October 31, 2005   09:40 PM PST
Love the writing... Love the images...
I'm adding you to my blog list, so I will be back every day...;-)
My Name is... Lil' Red Riding
October 31, 2005   06:02 PM PST
I can only wonder what the end of term professor evaluations were like. If he was smart, he'd wait until he was tenured to start impaling. (LOL)

Your tales that weave history and fantasy together are always a treat.

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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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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 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.

Seeking Spanking

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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
Click Here To Enter

Long Stories


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
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
The New Year's Party

Nocturnal Events
Nocturnal Emissions
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
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
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
BDSM Website Security
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
My Toy
Daddy's Girl
Chocolate and Roses
Special Delivery
Waiting II
Edge Play
This Flesh
Not Watching
Tango 2
Inside of You
Mentally bound
His Flower
Her Grief

Poetry of a sort
(very little rhymes)

Faded Words on Yellowing Paper
I Was
submissive position

Ladies of the Night

Bedtime Stories
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)


(They May Spank You For Viewing)

Married Man's Fucktoy
Now Tease Me
Incubus Dreams
Peep Show Stories
Annie's Spanking Good Blog
Vue du dedans
Dee Reawakening
Polyfetishist Directory
The Abyss
Mostly Appropriate
Shadow Of A Soul
Liz Vicious Fan Site
La Libertine's Salon
T of Reknin Day
Siren's Song
The Ties That Bind
Mistress Matisse's Journal
3xL : Lust, Love & Latex
Sensual Liberation Army
News For Perverts
The Spanking Blog
Art Of Love
Spanking Art
Pillow Book

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