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Happy Holiday’s!
A WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR
The year end holiday season is a wonderful time. Families get together for celebration. It is a time of reflection on the year past and time forward. It is also a time of giving. During this time many volunteers donate countless hours to help those less fortunate. Following is a story of one selfless volunteer
THE SPIRIT OF GIVING
Hey, Dawn, you’re late. “Yea, Kimmy, late band practice for the girls. Sorry.” “No problem but we are expecting a big crowd. “I am sure with the bad economy we will have a record crowd.” Dawn and Kim were part of a crew of 12 volunteers and 2 regular employees preparing for a special Christmas Eve dinner at the Main Street Rescue Mission soup kitchen. The Christmas Eve dinner was very popular and a large turnout was expected.
The crew took a break about a half hour before they started serving meals. Everyone was tired already but they were looking forward to serving the needy who were going to enjoy a great home cooked type meal.
Dawn and Kim sat together as usual. “Hey Kimmy, I got some new pictures of the girls.” “Wow, are they cute, you and Matt must really be proud.” “Yeah they are great.” “I hate to be away from them today but this is so important.” “Dawn, I love the work we do, it is great to help people.” Dawn is one the best volunteers at the museum. Despite hold down a teaching job and raising two girls she finds time to volunteer for various charitable groups.
They started the food line and as they were served the needy wound around and sat at folding tables gaily decorated for the holiday. Sitting at the first table were four scruffy homeless guys. BigDog was a medium built man, had an un-groomed beard, ragged clothes was generally unkempt and smelled pretty bad. His side kick was Darrel. Darrel was much bigger man but otherwise had a similar appearance.
Pinhead was a friend of Darrel’s. Skinny and poorly dressed he was not as haggard as the other two.
Pinhead had his name because of various mental disabilities which made him very dependable on others.
Red was a burly homeless may in his late forties. He had a big biker appearance, strong built and tattoos.
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House of Singing Wind
Chapter 1 – Now Comes a Wanderer
It goes against my better judgment to talk to her, much less have her in this house. The decision is not mine, however. This is the work of Maelstrom. And as long as he is writing the checks that make my life possible here at Singing Wind, who am I to argue?
It is a very good life.
She is, young, perhaps late twenties, early thirties, blonde with perfect legs; feet on one end and ass on the other. The fact that her ass can only be considered a 9 ½ is only because I have never seen a true 10. Meeting her at the door to my study, I offer my arm to escort her in, the perfect gentleman. I purposely situate her body out of my line of sight. I want only to concentrate on her face. It is not a beautiful face. No, not beautiful, Beautiful is too bland an adjective. She is interesting, intelligent, and smooth. These adjectives work. . She is magnificent, utterly magnificent. Perhaps you think I exaggerate, but this is not the case. I have made a life study of women and fancy myself a connoisseur of feminine flesh and character. To put it in the vernacular of my trade, this is a five million dollar cunt. And this was the strangest recruitment interview I have ever conducted.
“…and he told me I could count on you to fully acclimate me to the facility.” She told me in a flat tone, delivered with even a flatter look on her face. She was sizing me up and at the same time, trying to maintain her dignity. Dignity is a strange thing to women. This one views me as powerful and I am. But she also thinks I’m the lowest form of life on the planet. Be nice to the lowlife, the pervert. How genteel. I may be, too, all that and more. I trade in flesh. I am the first link in the White Slave chain store. Now I find myself interviewing a genuine, card carrying member of the fourth estate, the press, the New York Times. She is sitting across my from me, in my study, wearing a short skit and no panties hoping to entice me. To be honest, I had no idea whether to laugh or laugh uncontrollably.
“My facility,” I intoned just as flatly. “This entire facility, as you put it, is mine. Its conception, construction, and implementation are the produce of my thoughts, dreams and desires. It exists because one man dared to dream a dream and is willing to pay the price of seeing his ideas bear fruit. And yes, you can count on me to fully acclimate you to Singing Winds.” I let these words, the latter delivered with sarcastic mirth and trail off to the proverbial pregnant pause, as I’d heard my aunt say, if not a million times, then close. Her flat look was still plastered to her face but it didn’t go all the way to her eyes, though. Her eyes were flinty. I would not swear to it, but it seemed her breathing had hiccupped, just a small catch. She glanced at her notebook as if she needed to refresh her memory, and I think that is true, in so far as the thread of her memory is unraveling.
Unexpected Discoveries
Chapter 1
The new office still had the smell of fresh paint and new construction. Remodeling had just been completed earlier in the week; just in time for the new furniture to be moved in and arraigned. The office had a distinctive Zen design, emphasizing simplicity and function. Jack Lete was a co-owner of Axis Corporation, an elite international security and private investigations company. Axis Corp had just opened its first U.S. location in Chicago. Jack volunteered to open the office so that he could be closer to his daughter, a senior in high school, who was living with his ex wife and her husband in the Chicago area. Chicago offered surprisingly affordable commercial real-estate pricing and a centralized U.S. location.
Several years earlier, just before Jack retired from the army, he and several of his retired military veteran friends had started Axis Corp. They offered a unique highly specialized security firm that had recently added investigative work to its services. The firm initially began working as an international government contractor, filling security gaps that could not be covered by actual law enforcement or military personnel. The firm’s business was growing, and they now provided high threat security to many of the world’s wealthiest business executives, a growing list of celebrities, and individual private clients.
Jack had been flying throughout the U.S. for the last few months, setting up contracts and conducting site threat and personal security analysis for their U.S. clients. Axis Corporation’s business was booming to say the least. Their international governmental security contracts were lucrative and their domestic contracts had tripled since the last presidential election, renewed international terrorism threats, and a seriously faltering economy. The economy was tanking, crime was exploding, and those that still had money were eager to ensure their safety. Jack was still adjusting to a less operational roll in the business. Jack’s skill set had always been on the operations side, but his recent assignments had all been administrative. So far almost all of his U.S. business had been coming from satisfied international clients. Jack was an operations specialist, who instead of a traditional salesman approach, brought a calm air of confidence and professionalism to meetings with perspective clients.
Could it Happen?
Spending most of the year away from your Wife is trying, but knowing when you will be seeing her again is welcome. I enjoy BDSM and my Wife occasionally indulges me. This is a fantasy I have started having, Enjoy.
Two months before my next trip to my Wife’s she calls. We update on all the little things that have happened and then she asks do you want a spanking when you get here? My response was a definite always. How do you want it? I replied naked, bound and totally exposed. She laughed, nothing new there you always want it that way, I presume you want to be in the diaper position with your legs spread wide? Of course, that’s my favorite.
My Wife then asks me if I have had any new fantasies? I said yes. Well are you going to tell me, she asks? It isn’t much, only your Mother catching me in a compromising position. How compromising? Well I’m always naked at least from the waist down, sometimes changing clothes but a few times I’m tied up naked. Your Mother makes me explain why. I tell her I leave the door open when I’m changing clothes because I enjoy the thrill of getting caught. What about being tied up? I confess that I like being helpless.
Your Mother thinks a little and then asks what do you hope happens if you get caught and by whom? Who do I hope catches me my Wife but the risk of someone else catching is always present. What do I hope happens, first I hope my method of escape is removed and my bondage tightened. Then I hope to get spanked, pinched and played with. Finally I want to beg for my release, maybe even agree to some other activity. Sadly this is where my fantasy ends, I never find out if your Mother does anything or not.
The Double Scissor Snip – Nice And Clean!
“If you loved me, you would do it.”
As I herd her words, I nodded in agreement. My lesbian lover had talked over and over about modifying me, starting with my hair.
“I want you to be bald.” She had said on so many occasions, “I love the thought of you walking down the street with me, with no hair on your head, people staring at you because you look so different, wondering why a woman would have no hair.”
“Please.” She said again.
I lifted the scissors and cut through my pony tail and handed it to her. Tears were in her eyes.
“Thank you so much! Please let me go all the way.”
Now I had given in to losing the length of my hair I was not that bothered about the rest.
“You can do it.”
She kissed me and jumped up, went and fetched a razor and plugged it in the wall.
“Get on your knees!” She said excitedly.
I knelt down, my eyes stinging with tears that she was too excited to notice, but as I bowed my head and watched the floor knowing I would see my hair falling away, I felt a swelling in my clitoris. I reached down to rub it.
“No!” She said sharply, “You know you’re not supposed to play with it – remember what the doctor said!”
Fulfilling Her Dreams
The first time we’d actually met in person, it was in a quiet, empty, coney island on a cool fall evening. We’d been chatting for quite a while, almost 6 months I guess. I knew so much about the girl, everything about her really; what she thought, her every fantasy, I knew things about her that she herself didn’t know, at least not yet. She’d sent me a message online, she’d been 18 at the time, a good girl, a dutiful girl who never even thought of doing anything wrong or openly rebelling against her family. But deep down she knew she wanted to explore, to be controlled, to be used. Her email to me was the opening shot, or salvo, the first real attempt to find what she needed, but couldn’t fully admit to herself quite yet.
It was almost a month before she finally admitted to me that she wanted to be raped, not that it would really be rape, because it’s what she wanted, but more than anything she wanted to be treated like she was just an object, devoid of control, to be used completely for a man’s pleasure and nothing more than a rag doll to be fucked and abused.
Her name was Allison, but she went by Allie most of the time. I thought it was a cute, and perfect, name for her. She was attending community college nearby, looking to eventually be a nurse, or school teacher, though I wondered, if she was honest with herself, if her goal really wasn’t to find a Master, somebody to own and use her without mercy.
My heart started beating the instant I saw her step nervously through the door that first time, her nipples were rock hard as she crossed her arms over her chest unconsciously, trying to cover the obvious sign of arousal, or at least trepidation, she felt.
Beth and Ethan
Boys competed eagerly for places in the Cady Stanton Riding Program. Freshmen and sophomores, called bugs, wore drab gray uniforms and worked under the supervision of the Bug Mother and her assistants. At the end of their sophomore year, the bugs were assessed for size and conditioning by the Program Director, Bug Mother, and the senior jockeys. Most were rejected.
Each year a eight or ten are found large and strong enough to serve as possible mounts. They were sent to learn about tack and saddles at an intense summer program under the direction of experienced riders and in the Fall, are assigned to a trainer.
Ethan’s mother was deeply interesting in racing and his house was filled with racing souvenirs and paraphernalia. No one was surprised when Ethan tried out for the Riding program. He was known as a hard worker but a mount needed adequate size to carry a rider. Many were surprised by the growth spurt at the end of his Freshman year and his qualifications were obvious at the end of his Sophomore year. His mother had chosen her sperm donor wisely. That summer, he learned to bear a Pony’s saddle, bridle, and control rods. He was worked hard by the experienced equestriennes. He quickly gained strength and stamina to match his great heart.
Ethan wore the blue and gold Suffragette colors when Beth, a new freshman, first saw him. He stood proudly in his tack and saddle. Sheridan, a senior girl, ordered him down and he dropped smartly to one knee. She showed Beth how to grasp his bridle and mount. Beth swallowed her trepidation. She had ridden before though and had no lack of moxie. She grasped his bridle in her right hand and lifted her right foot to his muscular thigh. She swung her left leg over his neck and neatly mounted the large creature. That first day, he only walked with Beth in the saddle and Sheridan leading him but Beth’s potential as a jockey quickly became apparent.
From a Man to a Bitch
My wife Mary and I had married young. She was 19 and I was 20. We had our two kids in the first two years of marriage. I being a fairly small guy had what they call a small man complex. I was determined to be the king of my castle. As a result I was a tyrant to Mary and my son and daughter. When both kids were in school, Mary went to school and got her cosmetology license. As young kids they feared me and as teenagers they resented me. I forced them to leave and be on their own as soon as each reached the age of 18. They kept in touch with Mary but never wrote or called me. Not even on my birthday or at Christmas.
While Mary was stuck raising our kids, I hung out in bars after work and cheated on her with any bimbo who would have me. I did work hard as a carpenter and did as much overtime work as I could get. I paid off my house in only 15 years and when I needed a new pickup I could pay cash for it. My wife and kids were well fed and clothed and I felt they should be grateful for that. They owed me for everything they got.
Then one day disaster struck. I was standing on a two by four while trying to nail a roof truss in place on a two story house we were building when I slipped and fell. I fell 10 feet landing on a two by four on what would be the ceiling of the first floor. I painfully had landed with one leg on either side of the board and blacked out from the pain. Unconscious I then slid off and fell another 1 feet to the floor below. I awoke in great pain in the ambulance and was given a shot of morphine by the paramedic.
They wheeled me into the Emergency room and soon they had nurses cutting off my clothes so the doctors could examine me. The doctor in charge told me they were going to take me into surgery and try to save my life. The anesthesiologist told me she had the good stuff and gave me a partial dose of a drug which made the pain go away and left me drowsy. I barely remember them wheeling me into the operating room then all went black.
Ed Kilpatrick’s – The Lodger
Setting the scene:
My name is David Jones and I’m from Glasgow in west central Sctoland. I turned 40 this year and while still single after a nasty divorce a few years ago, I’ve enjoyed the last year of freedom as my career has taken off in the right direction. I’m an IT consultant and while that will sound boring to so many people, it is still a relatively well paid job and has allowed me to travel. For the last year, I’ve spent quite a lot of time travelling between my employer’s European offices but with my recent promotion to VP, head of product release, I was asked last month if I would take a temporary assignment to our corporate HQ just north of Chicago in a place called, Evanston on the shores of Lake Michigan. While I’d made many trips to our corporate HQ, I had never spent longer than a few weeks in the US and therefore a year was going to be a whole new ball game! I accepted the assignment in late October 2009 and made arrangements to have my house to be looked after by a family member for the period I was away. I didn’t like the idea of renting out my house, even though the money would have been a welcome bonus. Instead I opted to take a fully expensed package, where I was still paid in the UK but would spend the next twelve months in Illinois. My employer managed to obtain the visa needed so in early November, I left the early days of winter in the UK for a much colder winter in the mid west (USA).
I spent the first two weeks living out of a suitcase in one of those Homewood Suite places. As comfortable as my small one-bedded apartment was, I wasn’t using the full benefit of my allowances and I wanted to find a house to live in. My dilemma was then to either find a small place to rent on my own or find someone looking for a lodger. There was benefits to both solutions but the main benefit of finding a house with other people living in it, was I’d get to meet new people outside the corporate environment.
Super Bowl Torment
My name is Allura and the following is a journal entry that i wrote almost a year ago. i am owned and have been with my Master for about 2 years now. i am required by contract to keep a detailed, written account of any activities or punishments that my Master deems significant and wishes to recall. Master will read my journal regularly and check it for spelling and grammatical errors when He is in a particularly vicious mood and is looking for reasons to punish me; not that He ever needs a reason at all. When He goes away on business trips, Master takes my journal along as comfort and for His sheer pleasure. There have even been times when i am made to stand at “attention” in the middle of the room while my Master reads my very personal journal entries to his friends in order to humiliate me. At times, Master will read old entries aloud while i masturbate when He is in the mood to “play.” With Master Bill’s permission, i am sharing this punishment with you. Anything that is in parenthesis was added solely for your benefit and was not originally in my journal entry.
February 1, 2009
This morning began just like every other morning. i woke up at 6 am and began my daily ritual of quickly showering, getting myself presentable, making breakfast and serving You in bed. I knelt quietly beside Your bed in my “in house attire.” (When i am home alone with my Master i am completely naked wearing only my two black leather wrist and ankle cuffs, and a thick black leather collar. All are locked in place with heavy padlocks and Master keeps the keys on His key ring along with His house and car keys. This is to remind me that i too am His property just as is His car and His house.) As You finished Your breakfast, You leaned over to kiss my forehead. You reminded me that You were excited about the Super Bowl party You planned for tonight. You said that W/we had a lot to do to get ready for O/our guest. (Master had invited five or six of His male friends over to watch the game with Him, and i was to serve the food and drinks.) Since i don’t share Your love for football, i didn’t share Your enthusiasm about the night’s upcoming events.
i ran the water for Your bath and then went to clean the dishes. When i returned, You were just about to step out of the tub. i dried Your body while You continued to talk about the things W/we needed to do. You kissed me passionately parting my lips with Your tongue, running Your fingers between my thighs and pausing on my clit. You stopped abruptly and wagged Your finger, wet with my juices, in front of my face and said, “No, no. you will not distract Me with your sweet, brown pussy today. W/we have a busy schedule ahead of U/us.” You pointed to a shopping bag sitting on the floor beside Your bed. “I got U/us something.” You followed me into the bedroom to watch me as i pulled two matching Steelers’ jerseys from the bag. Just as the ungrateful slave slut that i am, i began to complain.
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A WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR The year end...
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