Novice´s Dreams

Not many will disagree with that statement, what isnt against porn. It is silly, stupid, boring. And yet, sometimes I need it.

I shpould be more specific, what do I need?

is it the nudity, the act of sex itself, or something else?

When you are guessing it is about the "else", let me help you

It is about the illusion, the story, the roleplay

It is about all the things I cannot have in real life, and need in some way

So, there you are, accept the nonsense, and look for the jewels!

One site I love is shefight, the movies can be found on any porn site

The concept is simple, a man is told not to respond to fierce attack by a gorgeous young woman

she is fit, strong, fast, and loves to beat up a guy

so maybe she is even sadistic, and loves the suffering and pain she causes

is there sex involved? No, it is just a bloody hot fetish

See my point?

Hello all, I have been gone for nearly three years. Other priorities? I don't know, ordinary life taking overI guess.

I haven't stopped writing, just decided to take it into another direction

I cannot deny that I feel a bit disappointed by the stunning lack of response from fellow minded people.

But maybe that is the clue, we are not fellow minded at all

we are all individuals, chasing our desires

and sharing does not come into it

Am I too bleak now?

Well, I challenge you!

She walked up to her chair, took one of her stiletto heels and ended up behind me. I felt my balls being loosened, only to be confronted with a sharp and deep pain. Then the string around my balls was fastened again. I dropped my head, as to see what she had done. As if I did not know that already! Indeed the heel was buried in the soft flesh of my ball sack, and it was tightly secured. Now she was standing behind me, giving the shoe light kicks. Making the heel touch my soft flesh. No, not touch, invade was the word. There was pain, and it never faded. It only got worse. I groaned, I tried to withhold any noise. But that would not do of course, I was a toy. Just a toy, and toys needed to be played with. And this toy worked well when it made little noises. So, the intensity of the kicking increased. Why did I not give in? As if to give her what she wanted. It just did not seem fair, she wanted nothing but honest surrender, honest pain and emotions. So when she finally sensed she needed to do more and gave me a fierce kick my load moan escaped, having the entering President looking in rage at me. I was a distraction to her new mistress. But she needed not to have worried. She was carrying loads of toys, and Wanda would be dealing with her rather than me!

There was a wide smile on Wanda’s face, welcoming her playmate back. It was all so easy! She had simply pushed some buttons, and all went smoothly. So now it was time to make a mark, she had already shown she was capable of using force, being brutal. Now it was time to push her limits even further. She started tying her to one of the columns in the room. She used a spreader bar for having maximum access to her cunt. Her back was tightly secured to the pole. She enjoyed pulling the ropes tight. Seeing then disappear in her belly. Making breathing hard.

Then her hands above her head. High, so her ears were nearly covered by her arms. She was sure it hurt only a bit. Since the real pain would come now. One rope below her breasts, the other above, and then she started pulling the ropes towards each other. Closing in on the separate tits. First from the center, making her aware that she was now facing a true violation of her female pride. Isn’t that one of the major concerns for every woman, to have beautiful and tempting breasts? Well, the breasts of the President were natural, and looked like ready for a wonderful bite. They were like ripe fruit, delicious, soft. But now they were being forced into an unnatural position, they were becoming grotesque. Not at all a display of pride, but they were becoming now what they are called in nasty words, tits.  

It was a way of reducing the Presidents pride; first her breasts were taken, disfigured. And then the pain came. When Wanda pulled the strings tighter the result were huge and erect nipples. She let her mouth slide over the one, the other in her hand. Her tongue started to play with the big brown nipple. Bringing pleasure, at least according to the squeaks of joy and the gasps when she let her teeth nibble on them. But when the teeth started to sink in, and the long and delicate nails of her other hand started pinching the nipple there was a sharp gasp. Of course she knew what was to come, but the President wanted to enjoy every moment of this treatment. Never there was anyone to stand up against her. And now there was this delicate young girl. That did not only have the courage to challenge her. No, she had the spirit to tempt her to full battle, and kick the sword out of her hand before she even was ready to fight with it. How unlikely anyone might find it, this was heaven for her! 

Her glorious body twisted against the torture, she was like carved in marble. So beautiful, so full of still life. Her head slightly tilted backwards, her body open and exposed towards het tormentor. Who did not care in the least how her victim responded.she had her own agenda, she had her own pace. A slow dance of torture, a dance of seduction, a dance of control

Now she started on her legs, ropes, pressing deep in her soft flesh. High along her thighs, than attaching them to the column, pulling her legs apart. Showing her glorious sex, now fully exposed. Then above the knees, straining her legs outward. But since she was tied to the column there was no way she could accustom to this outward and ever spreading movement. Only pain was the result, and a grotesque figure. And when finally her ankles were secured she was like a statue, a Christian saint or martyr. But she was the true figure of sex, of lust. Now Wanda walked back to her clothes, and fished out her smart phone.

“A picture might be useful for future reference, look deep into the camera. Show me your most lustful look, your most slutty look. Now passion”.

She was playing her, she had her and they both knew it. The most terrible thing she could do was to bring me into the picture. She put a flogger in my hand and commanded me to whip her exposed cunt with it. And when I did not hit her hard enough my reward was a fierce slap in the face. Harder than I ever experienced before. This motivated me, and the pictures she took showed a face full of shame by the President. She liked me enough when I licked her cunt, but torturing me was definitely not my place!

As a grand finale she ordered me to make myself rock hard and then let me rigid cock touch the opening of her cunt. I wasn’t allowed to enter her. But the humiliation was perfect, and complete. It aroused me beyond imagination, was this what a Domme was experiencing when torturing and humiliating a slave? I would never know, since I was dragged down to the floor, kicked in my balls and left there while my eyes were covered to prevent me from seeing anything.   

I heard the ropes being loosened, I heard clothes rustling. I heard bodies touching. When I was allowed to stand up again, and have the blindfold removed all order seemed restored. There was my Wanda, sitting in her chair. There was the President, dressed as well, sitting opposite her. I could not imagine the scene I saw just a few minutes ago. The ropes, the pain, the control. The sexual desire. It all seemed very much contained now. Although, I was still naked in front of those Ladies! And it did not seem over!

Wanda produced some device, a small leather band. She indicated I was to stand next to her. She ties it around my balls. “This”, she said, “is an electronic device. It will give you electric shocks. It will not be very painful, see” and she pushed a button. “Unless I increase the level”. And indeed, from a light tickle it went to a serious pain in my balls. “And when I am either cross, or sadistic, I move it even higher”

I could not remain standing, I collapsed on the floor. Experiencing a fierce kick in my balls. Though it was different. It had the power to make me feel nauseous. I was desperate not to experience that again. She told me to get on my feet again, and then the President produced a chastity device. We want you not to attract too much attention. You will wear this mini skirt, pantyhose, blouse. Now dress and let us enjoy that.

Well, I did not do too badly. I have had some training, and great guidance. Getting on the pantyhose was disaster, my legs were much too muscular, but it felt awesome again. Then wearing high heels I was allowed to practice again.

We were on the towns boulevard, three girls walking in a row, arm in arm. Well, it was to support me, to be honest. I could not do it without them. We walked at a brisk pace, and I felt awesome. This was sheer heaven. Then we went into a bar and I was sent to fetch some drinks. I was standing and giving my order when it began, the slight tingling feeling. The electronic device was turned on. I tried to ignore it, I could not show it. But the president, I saw it was her, turned up the level. I had problems standing up straight, I felt so much under control, Mixed with this strange pain. I took the drinks and started walking back, then there was a massive shock in my balls, I stumbled, I fell, spilling all the drinks!

here my flow of word ends, for now. Will there be a continuation? Ever? Give me your thoughts!

Black and white
 

Many people have fantasies, and they hardly ever speak about them. Because they are intimate, but also often embarrassing. A fantasy in the dark of night seems very exciting, and can lead someone into a completely new experience. In broad daylight however, this fantasy quickly seems childish, or silly. Especially in the eyes of others. So they are hidden away, deep down at the bottom of the well that we call our sole.

It was a beautiful sunny day I went out for a walk in the nearby park. I love to go out, and enjoy the spring air, the abundant green, the flowers emerging from their winter sleep. As I was walking I caught sight of a young woman, she was sitting on a bench, reading a book. I cannot deny I found her wonderful, such delicacy and fine features. A great body, that was packed in a really beautiful dress. I slowed my pace, as to take in the sight more clearly. But I could not just stand there and stare at her beauty.

So, I did the unthinkable. I sat down beside her, saying a mumbled hello as to justify my presence. This is not something I regularly do. I know, with my age, heading for 50 one might think I am one of those frustrated men, looking for a new chance in life. After spoiling the first one, finding marriage to hard, not able to find pleasure in day to days affairs of living together. As I was sitting there you might have constructed a complete image of me, my failures, my frustrations. And maybe even my fantasies. But I have to disappoint you, it is very different from what you might imagine. I am a well-respected man, have a happy family and hardly do anything that might raise an eyebrow. I think, if you knew the truth, you would find me dull. But now you see, it is your own imagination, your own fantasy  that is playing tricks on you. So let us return to the dull man, sitting on that bench, right next to the girl in white. How long could I sit there, and steal some sideway glances without arousing suspicion of my true intention. Not long, but luckily I had a book in my pocket. So I took it out, and took my time to find the page I was reading now. During that process I could complete my inspection of her. It was a dress, ending just above the knee, a delicate white, with accents of more white, giving a special accent to the hem of the dress, the waist and around her neck. The dress was all closed, but there was a transparent patch, over the front of the dress from the ribbon around her neck to the top of her breasts. The shoulders were more or less bare, showing her beautiful arms. I could not see her hands, they were covered by the book she was reading. But no doubt they would be delicate and tempting. There was no way I would read a letter, sitting there. I could feel her being next to me, I could feel vibrations from her body towards the world. I could see she wasn’t just a girl, she was a young woman with a purpose in life. What a contrast with myself, the boring and dull man. I was so grey and so invisible, I don’t think she even spotted me sitting there. I was a nobody, but that is life for me. So when she finally stood up, and walked off I could look at her stride, the elegant high heeled shoes, her naked feet, and the beautiful, sorry for the word, ass. I thought I would choke then and there. A sheer sight of beauty, now walking away from me. The white angel leaving me in my own little grey world.

I stayed for some time on that bench, as to give myself an alibi for being there in the first place. Sometimes you have the feeling you have to justify yourself, in case, someone might see you, and wonder. That is the danger of being always between the lines, of moral righteousness. You become predictable, avoid any danger, any excitement. So, after 5 minutes of staring at the book, and absently turning the pages, but definitely not reading I stood up. And walked out of the park. Back into my normal life again.

At home, that night, all was normal. The Lady of the house had cooked us a meal, out little family of 4, united at the table. The night slipping in through the windows, a little storytelling time for the children, peacefully sleeping in their cots. Then the coffee, made by me. Little sips of wonderful dark liquid. The sensation of a wonderful taste, spreading from mouth to mind. Warm, dark, deep. The night, sleep comes fast. Two bodies in a bed, lying next to each other. Bodies that have forgotten how to caress each other, how to enjoy each other. Casual kisses are exchanged, breathing gets deeper and deeper until sleep enters. The silence of the night is taking over. All is forgotten, the day, any excitement is being covered under the blanket of sleep.

In the night, the mind is free. Under the cover of sleep the mind is liberated, and probes in all the edges, every abyss is tried. And then all of a sudden, there is this flash of a bench in a park, a white dress. He seems to be floating through that park, towards the bench, towards the whiteness, a blinding shimmer. When the white dress starts to move away from the bench, over the grass, he is following it. He closes his eyes, as being summoning  up his courage, and when he opens his eyes he suddenly sees. A black dress, bare legs, an ass barely covered yet accentuated.

All his inhibitions fall away, all his barriers are coming crashing down. All of a sudden there is this surge of desire. So long, hibernated, ignored, yet this vision releases him. Shows him the true beauty, of a body, of a relation, of life. It is like being ignited, energy bursting though his veins. His sight is clouded, like by a sudden fog. His eyes try to break this fog, in order to see. Again. When it does she flashes there again, but now revealing her body in full. He cannot believe his eyes, this vision is beyond words. He wants to move, to act, run and kneel, glorify this angel.

When all of a sudden he is awake, the sun shining in the room, his children pulling at his blankets. “Daddy, can we please watch television?”

Model: Aurore Novellati

Photographer: Otto Focus and Hold

The President walked off, what a glorious sight. She was tall, strong, walked erect, yet her back was covered in bruises. I don’t think I have ever seen something so sexy! I was so aroused, and wanda looked at me, and winked. As if to say. “lucky boy that you can enjoy yourself like that!”

And she was right, it was an extra ordinary display. Yet, when she returned I nearly gasped of the gorgeous view. She walked like a model, firm steps, holding the tray with drinks. Yet her full breasts moved in such a sensual way my cock did hurt, till deep inside of my body. And her beautiful legs, her belly, with her secret garden. It was pure pleasure, so beautiful. I must have moaned of pleasure, of you. Since Wanda looked at me.

“once you finished pouring my drink dear, we need to do something about that piece of male meat there. Take the flogger and beat the shit out of him, that will teach him! And stuff his mouth with all you can find.”

There was a wide smile on the Presidents face, this was a welcome distraction. She had been beaten up herself quite fierce, and now she needed to get rid of that sexual power. And what was there better to do than to mistreat me, abuse me. I was the reason she was in this position. When she walked towards me Iooked up. And saw the smile on her face, as she saw both admiration and fear in mine! There was nothing I could do to stop her, being bound and gagged. She started to use the flogger on my back, making her way from my neck till my ass. Slowly, taking her time. And getting into the mood, into the rhythm of a thorough and dedicated beating. I had no idea I coud take so much pain. After the first series the pain started to subside, lulled me into something I had never experienced before. It must have been the long day, the exciting night, my deep descent into submission. I was feeling numb, like a toy being used.

At some point it stopped, just stopped. I realised myelf I was sobbing, I heard the footsteps moving away. And then the words of Wanda, “I need a cane. Get me one”.

A few moments there was silence in the room, and then footsteps moving away again. I did not dare to look, I was scared. Somehow this beating had shown me more of the nature of Wanda than anything that had happened before. She was going for the kill now! She was ready to make the next move. She had beaten me, without effort, it just took her some time and patience. And the next step, in one mighty blow, was to take control of the world of the President herself. A woman, mature in age, apparently wealthy and having a very successful career to be swept away by the force of nature that was Wanda!

The footsteps returned. Wanda thanking the President, offering her hand in order to get her out of the deep chair. And then suggesting she was to stand near the fireplace, as a matter of fact, I was on the floor, and she was standing over me. One foot to the left, the other to the right. She was to lean against the fireplace outer decoration. In this way she had us both in one place. It demonstrated the superiority of the President since she was standing over me. And the president did not need any bondage, no tying up. Of course!

Yet it also made clear she was in control of both of us. And showed her demands of putting us in place, as her slaves!

It was after distinct clicking of heels that the cane first made contact. Wanda must have put on her shoes again, wanting the sound dominate the empty space. The heels on the marble floor were like a mighty wave of sound, oppressing and forceful. And the distinct noise of the cane piercing the air was very impressive. The impact on the soft skin of the President was clearly to be heard, and a small moan that followed. All separated in time like three different actions, like not being connected in any way. But they were. The high pitched noise of the cane through the air became more distinctive, the flesh being hit more oppressive, the moan still suppressed but likely to break free soon. And Wanda took her time, she made a hit. Then let the impact die away, let her heels click as to keep everyone waiting in anticipation. And made herself ready for a new stroke. It was hard to describe what I felt, what I was going through. My own pain was still burning on my skin, yet I sensed this was much more intense. The President was not standing up against Wanda, but she was inviting her to use more force, to be more oppressive, to be stronger. And the two women played this game of power as if it was an innocent game. A game of children, a kind of truth or dare. Where the stakes were raised after every move of the other. If there would have been a whip Wanda would have taken that, used that to break that skin of the beautiful President. To show marks were blood would ooze from its cut. Was Wanda jealous of this beautiful body? Was that the reason she wanted to break it? I had no idea, just that I was witnessing a contest that still had two winners, had two opponents that were determined to play the game till the very end.

When Wanda let the cane drop it was like another lash, it sounded loud in the large room. And then there was silence. No one moved. When Wanda stepped closer towards the President her hand now touched the bruised bottom. Trailed along the darker lines, where her skin had been damaged more. The welds were growing still, the bruising was to develop it impressive colour. Wanda’s touch was light, and delicate. A slight moan, of surprise, from the President. Hardly audible, yet very distinct. Since it had this sexual desire in it. This “touch me more”. And Wanda happily obliged. Her hands now trailed together, over her ass, down to the back of her legs, fondling the glorious ass cheeks. And then through the ass crack, unharmed, higher up again. When she reached her neck the President let her head fall forward, showing the place where she would love to be touched. The long neck, delicate, soft white flesh. Yet Wanda had no intention to trail there. Maybe she did not like her victim purring like a cat. No, her hands trailed forward and took hold of her breasts. As she moved her body now closer. Dress touching soft skin, groin to ass. The hands had fingers too, and they found the nipples of the President. And as expected, they were very erect, very hard, very demanding for a strong touch. The pinching that Wanda provided was more than that!

The moan of the President was full of passion, full of desire. But by now I had started to understand how the beautiful mind of Wanda worked, she pushed the button, then let go and wait till her victim, her object of desire came crawling back, for more. For more of whatever she was giving, pain, pleasure, humiliation. And once back it was never more of the same, it was always twisted in another direction. Like spinning you round and round, until you simply had no idea anymore, no idea what to do, what to say, what to feel. No idea of how that burning desire within you was to be satisfied, to be controlled. And it went on like that until you were willing to give up anything, as long as you felt you were being taken care of. But you weren’t. You were being processed, you were being controlled. And without you noticing it. I now also saw how Wanda had managed to turn this into an art form without any restriction. I saw, and I was proud of that, I had been a play toy, to learn this beautiful craft. And I understood my desires were nothing to her. She wanted the main prize, she did not care for a scrap from a table, like I was. She cared for the main dish, no better. She wanted the cook herself. And that was the President. I saw how she struggled, how she tried to stay ahead of Wanda. I saw she wanted to gain back control, that she had given Wanda an opportunity, out of kindness maybe, out of affection. But all of that did not matter anymore. What mattered was just one item. Who is in control? Now she spoke those words, while having the President’s hair in a tight grip, tiling her head backwards. Wanda’s hand stroked the long neck, let her nails trail along that neck, inflicting more desire than pain. But obviously it wasn’t a gesture of kind love birds. The President was hold tightly, in pain.

“I ask again, who is in control my rich and famous Friend? Is it you?”

The silence was only broken by another cry of pain, of joy, of pleasure. Then finally the sob came

“It is You beloved Wanda, You are my Master. Take what is yours”

“I will, don’t need your permission for that. You long to be my slut. Ever since we met I have seen you looking at my young and strong body. You remember I told you about the fight I had with this little piece of slave that is kneeling at our feet. And I could see you got so excited about it. I could see that was exactly what you wanted. You have been surrounded too long by pleasers. You have been in control way too long, all wanting your attention. All wanting your approval. But when I see how wet you got from my little treatment I know you want something else. I know this is exactly the treatment you are longing for. And you know, there will come much more. But first we need to establish the real position of you. First I want you to show me that you really want this. Go and get toys, ropes, all you got. Since I am going to use them on you. I will use you so hard that your body will be broken after I am finished. And even then you will ache for more. Since I am your drug from now on. There is no way you can escape that. I am your addiction, I am what you long for. So hurry, don’t keep me waiting.”

And with these words she released the President, took her fingers out of her wet snatch. Since she had buried them there during that speech. A speech that was hissed, softly in the ear of the President. I could hardly hear it, and yet, it had given me a huge erection. God, this woman was so sexy. But I had better not been so excited, since she spotted me. And noted my pleasure.

Of course my balls were still drastically separated from my body, it hurt the more my cock grew into an erection. But that did not seem to matter. The scene that was presented to me was so hot and so enticing that I had no other way than to respond with my primal sense, my only basic male sense that was left for me. But Wanda was less amused, or she pretended to be like that. Did that matter? No surely not. Wanda was playing both of us, she was making grounds, for months she had been onto me and I did not give in. now in one mighty sweep she had defeated me and was awarded with a main prize, the President herself. So I was just here to let that happen.

And although the blows landed on my back and ass I did everything I could to get a glimpse of the glorious Wanda taking of her stocking, exposing her long delicate thighs. And the President noticed it too, since the blows lost their vigor as well. But know the stocking flew through the air and was stuffed in my mouth I knew it would get serious again!

And indeed, I managed to concentrate on the beautiful feet that I was to worship. But it was hard to cling unto it, since she was beating me harder and harder, without aiming properly. Not caring where she hit me, as long as she followed the guidance of Wanda. But when I looked at Wanda I saw she was a bit bored, this wasn’t what she intended!

“My friend is in pain, the poor boy. See men aren’t capable of getting real pleasures from life. Don’t know the real pain we woman have to bare at least once a month”.

There was silence now, the President had stopped beating me, I could hear her ragged breath, she had been working hard. And I was really in a bad shape. I was glad she stopped, and listened to wanda as she continued.

“what do you think dear, shall we show the little man pig that we can do better?”

Silence again, the the President spoke

“I accept this challenge miss Wanda, with joy in my heart”

Then she walked up to one of the central columns in the room. Let the remains of the dress fall, and started pulling of her stockings.

“no my love, that should be my task” spoke Wanda.

And Wanda got up from that huge chair, not an easy task to stay elegant. But Wanda strived for her goal, simply pulled up the dress till her waist and got up. She kicked off the remaining shoe and went for the President. The dress remained as it was, and gave me a glorious look of the Divine behind of my Wanda! God, that ass, those legs. I could not believe my eyes, again just a garter. Such beauty. She knelt before the President and started her touch at the foot, slowly letting her fingers trail along her leg upwards. I could see the President loved it, it felt so good she closed her eyes. Then Wanda started pulling the stockings down. Her mouth close to the glorious cave I had already visited earlier. Wanda gave it little kisses. Teasing like. Then the other stocking, same procedure. The teasing touch, she slow journey upwards her leg, the kissing of the secret garden and the descent. There stood the President. Naked, an older woman, but in glorious shape, and she knew it. She wasn’t shy, she seemed strong and confident. When Wanda came up she threw herself on the President. Pressing her hard into the column she was leaning against. She held her mouth wide open and covered the President mouth, hungry like a wolf. They kissed hard, passionate; it was like sparks from a fire in the night sky! Then she withdrew, took the flogger from the Presidents hand and turned her around. And she showed the President she had a very skilled hand as well, leaving deep dark scars on that beautiful bare back!

The flogger was as mean as its handler! When Wanda started she was nice enough, showing little welts, easy slapping on her back, a bit tougher on her ass. She wanted to get a response, and there was little. No I even sensed impatience with the President, like thing Wanda was just a pussy! That she, the President a mature and gorgeous woman was able to take much more than those playful strokes. But that did not take really long, the signal was conveyed and received, loud and clear. Wanda started lower long, the back of her knees, the back of the thighs. Short vicious strokes that had a strong impact. She took her time, 5 lashes left. Pause. Then 5 lashes right. And so on, until I noticed a slight tremble of her legs, muscles responding to the pressure, the abue. When the time was ready for her ass she made sure her lashes were concentrated, strong. And even aiming at her ass crack. Now I could her satisfying grunts from the president. And suddenly Wanda stepped forward, trust the handle of the flogger between from behind, between the Presidents legs. Her force, her fierce attitude surprised her completely. Then the arms to her torso, holding the breasts, rubbing, no pinching the erected nipples. Creating a long and loud moan. Deep satisfying.

“now I want another drink, and I am very hot”   

How do you go home when you have been seduced till the end, tempted beyond imagination. What if you have been into the wildest sex of your imagination, and was send home with relief. Very frustrating, very very frustrating. But fortunately (?) the pain in my dick and in my balls was still there so I could remember it all vividly! The biggest question of all was, could I refrain from touching myself. Well, the answer was made simple. Just before I left she stopped me, released my belt, dropped my pants and before I could even start to have an erection I heard this soft click. It felt cool, my cock was enclosed, by…. A chastity belt! She looked at me, smiled, “now I know we are sure to continue our little play tomorrow”. I had pain without end, no, it was humiliation, utter humiliation. I always thought being humiliated by such a Goddess like Herrin Sicha would be a thrill, but this was worse from being kicked in the balls! She just did not trust me, and right she was! Because she had stimulated me until I became mad of lust, until there was nothing else to think of, even the slightest thought caused me an erection, my balls hurt beyond imagination. And with every movement I was now being remembered of my limitation, of the control. Of her, the Herrin holding the key!

The next day I had only one thing on my mind, and what was to come that night! Another torture? Soon I would find out, I was so anxious, having an erection while you cant. That awful thing, just a piece of plastic controlling me. Incredible! As soon as I stepped inside she threw herself upon me, I was roughly pushed against the wall and had the force of a steam train, rolling over me. She yanked my pants down, grasped my balls and started squeezing, like she had then on her mind all day as well! She laughed at my painful grin, the erection filling up that little tube. It hurt me. She had her body forcing upon me, stimulated me, and I was in less than a minute. But no, I was mistaken. She did not stimulate me, she stimulated herself, another rough kiss, bruising, ravishing my lips. Days onwards they would show her passionate and controlling marks.

“C, you behaved well I guess, no naughty trics?” And she let the lkey dangle before my eyes. I could not even answer, her joyous laugh was beyond control.

“you have no idea what pleasure it is to feel my wet cunt all day, knowing you are trapped by me, controlled as you had never imagined”

She pulled me with her as she made her way to our torture room, as I was calling it by now. I had to run, pants on my ankles, ridiculous, nearly tripped. There she pulled me in the lamplight, opened my little chamber and was amused when she saw the result.

“C, you really must be more careful with yourself, you are bruised, all blue spots showing you have been really excited. This thing hurts, you know”

And while speaking she was fondling my dick, slowly jacking off, and squeezing my balls. My erection was instantaneous, hard as a rock!

“well that looks great C. I would say, we should do this more often. But 1st we are going to have some fun. And don’t forget, you are in training. If you blow your whistle I will let you clean the room with your tongue, and I will cover your back with welds until you bleed”

Never before she was so rough and tough, but I did not mind in the least!

And with these words the session ended. Soon it would be time for a new fantasy.

I thought a lot about this night. Although she had only slightly touched me, I merely had the sensation of being touched I had experienced her power over me. The slight touch, the suggestion only, and than the real tough stroke of the whip, this alteration had a huge impact on me. Of course, it was more than that, being naked in her presence, her orders, it was like my whole being, all my emotions we under a magnifying glass. A small gesture became a happening, an experience. If the conditions were right it was like a lever. It was multiplied a Thousand time.

How could I cope, how could I deal with that? My fantasy was blocked, not stimulated. It was as if my fantasies became a pitiful copy of the reality, reality was being spoiled even. On the other hand, I was allowed to cum, she understood my need for lust, for satisfaction. I had read about subs dealing with small tasks, humiliating tasks, just taking the crumbs that fell of mistress her plate, being satisfied just being in her presence. But it was not like that at all. My sexual drive was appreciated, was stimulated. And it lead to my submission, I was willing to sacrifice all for her, my sexual desire was to be stimulated, otherwise I would die and vanish. Also different from any other woman I met, she encouraged my manhood, my erections. She made no nasty remarks, she cherished it, like it was a tribute to her. And I must admit, it was a toy she enjoyed using. I was being used, and that sheer thought was terribly stimulating. I was allowed to be male, to be horny, to be stimulated, as long as it served her purpose. Where would that end, where would it lead me, lead she me! Her attraction was not to be denied, like a light on sea, guiding me. She started tormenting me, abusing my balls, never had I experienced such excruciating pain. And yet it was this pain that excited me. I imagined

Once upon a time….

I got a mail, “I expect you at my place, tonight at 10 pm sharp. We need to take control of your lust”. I could not really see where this was heading, I had no other option than to obey. I was there, as agreed. There was a note hidden, “go round the back, undress and enter. I am in the playroom”. At least there was no need to stay in the cold this time. I went into the room, it was pitch dark, I thought there was a good reason for that, but she said, “turn on the light C, I want to show you something”. And indeed, my eyes bulged. She was sitting on the chair, extremely beautiful and attractive seductively dressed in Latex. Next to her a table, with some toys.

“well, I mailed we need to take control of your lust. You are much too wanting, much to eager, much to much interested in your oen pleasure. I want you to control your urges; do you think you can do that? “The answer was simple, of course not. I was crazy about sex, I could make myself cum 3 times a day, watch hot films, read hot stories. It would be unbearable.

“No mistress, I don’t think I am capable of doing that”.

“Good, then you are in for a game that is called Tease and denial. I am going to stimulate you beyond imagination. But to prevent you from cumming we will give you some distraction. Pain normally works well, but I know of men that are getting even more turned on by that. We need to find out what type of man you are, in order to find the right buttons to push. Turn around, bend over, we start with a little toy”

I felt some lubricant in my as crack, and she worked it lightly in my ass. Then she started pushing ab butt plug in. I had never experienced that before; I had trouble remaining standing up, breathing. I needed to concentrate, really hard, and yet damn, at the same time it was amazingly exciting. The scene, me standing there, open and vulnerable, letting her doing this to me, just giving up this control. Letting her take control, not resisting. It was not the butt plug that was going in, she was penetrating my mind, my existence, just like that. And when I turned around I had a huge erection, and there was precum leaking.

“Well, obviously you are ready for more. But realise yourself I am here to stimulate you beyond imagination, until you can’t take it anymore. And then I will send you home!”

She grabbed a ribbon, and starting tying up my balls, closing them in until they were in a little corner, cuddling together. Then she took another ribbon and started attaching that to the basis of my dick. All started swelling, till huge dimensions. My veins were thick and red, like rivers in the country side. My erection was so huge my foreskin did not engulf my cockhead anymore. Then she put on latex gloves and took a little jar. “This won’t hurt, or will it?” She started applying the paste. At first it felt cool, but gradually it got hotter, until it kicked in! I had trouble in looking out of my eyes, keeping standing up straight, hands in my neck, as she had told me to. I needed to focus, then I catch her eye, she was sitting below me, enjoying herself greatly, that was obvious. A sly smile. But I had to prove I was worth her attention, need to keep up with it.

“Well, better not touch this anymore, will be quite sensitive dear C, or …. ?”

There was a pause, “will it hurt more if we use a little whip now?”

She grabbed a little whip, grabbed my mummified dick and pulled me towards her. Is she did not hurt me yet, she now clearly moved one step beyond! She had very good access to my balls, to all the tender flesh. She started hitting me, slowly and soft at first, checking for my reaction. I am scared to say it, but if felt good. I can make all kinds of comparisons, but it’s not like that. It is like sinking into a swamp, deeper and deeper. But its warm water, it is comforting, it’s lulling your mind to sleep, it feels so right! And she sensed it, she was encouraged, realised I was in for more. Increased the force of her blows, a relaxed pace, giving me time to recover, let my moaning and groaning start, swell, and die away. It turned het, very much, suddenly she pushed me down, on my knees, opened her legs and ordered me, “lick me, I need to cum, fast”. And g=fast it went, she was ecstatic. I did not fail her. When I went home she said simply, “don’t touch it, and suffer for me! Tomorrow same time” 

I had mailed my story, and now I had to wait for the next meeting. Time was so slow, I had all these images in my mind, like cast in stone, like a film that was repeated again and again. What did it all mean? Sure, it was incredible exciting. And the longer I thought the more I became attracted to the images of leather, latex, strong and powerful woman, with whips, even with strap on. But that could not be part of real life? I had done some research, read articles on the web, not scientific but interesting enough. It told about woman taking the lead, taking control in a society that was mainly male dominated. And now these same males were submitting. Dying for the attention of their Goddesses. It all seemed so simple, so natural, so attractive. And the leading capacities of Herrin Sicha were obvious. But what I did not understand was this: was this about sex? Was this about lifestyle? What did Total Power Exchange mean? If felt like utter submission, it felt like something that had to be done in order to reach Nirvana. But on the other hand giving up your total identity, your freedom, accepting a chastity belt, blinded by lust and signing a slave contract. I even had read a story of a mistress that was willing t expose her subject to the world, in order to punish his behaviour. And by doing so destroying his whole career. Was that what I wanted? Certainly not, but what did I want? Where was the line that was not to be crossed.

My thoughts stopped when I was outside, ready to ring the doorbell. A new chapter was about to begin, where would it lead me. When I rang the bell all remained quiet. I searched for her car, there it was, in front of the house. She had to be there. Then I saw the note, right next to the door. It said,

G, go to the back of the house. Undress yourself and remain standing there until your Herrin will come and get you.

Undress? It was only 5 C, it might take her god knows how long to get me, maybe she wasn’t even at home after all and I would be standing there, freezing my balls off. But there was no option, not obeying would lead to a very uncivilized chat. Now I was confronted with the power she was about to have over me, would I give in, would I submit to this ridiculous demand? It was more than that, I was so horny and I had anticipated so many thoughts, so sexy thoughts, and it all lead to this? But to be honest, I was only rebelling in the back of my mind, I wasn’t considering any of it for real. I had to do it, did not want anything else. So, there I was. And yes, it was cold. It did not take long to get that message to my bones, I was not controlling ,y limbs that had more than goose bumps, they started to shake violently, my teeth were making noise like castanets. Leaving was no option, even worse than not showing up! I would be cast out of her circle of attention, and I was living for this attention. Maybe in the end I would get my reward, that’s what kept me there. Maybe I was allowed to cum, I had managed to control myself, with great difficulty. I had the feeling my balls were bursting, expanding beyond the limits of my pants, day after day. But I knew, confronted with the question there was no way of lying my way out of it. The truth would be written all over my face. So, I stayed away from the obvious and concentrated again on the cold

Suddenly the light flashed on, another disaster. All the neighbors would be able to see me, a 1000 W lamp exposing my nudity. But in my confusion I saw her, Herrin Sicha. I could not see her, blinded by the light, but I could make out her contours in the door. And without thinking I dropped to me knees and kissed her feet passionately, looking for warmth. The light went out, and there we were together in the embrace of darkness. She bend and grabbed my hair, pulled me up until me head was resting against her leg. I stayed there, but trembled, from the cold, the emotion. “Come in sub” was all she said

I followed her inside, my clothes wrapped in my hands, somewhat ashamed and embarrassed. There I stood, waiting for her instructions. “fold them neatly and then come with me, upstairs”. She watched me while I performed my little task. Was she curious to see my clumsiness? Well, she got what she was waiting for. Normally I am nothing much at all on folding a shirt, but with hands trembling from both anticipation and cold it turned out to be a disaster.

“make sure I do not have to be discontented next time”, was all she said. At school you would had to repeat it, in the army there would be a lousy sergeant picking it up and dropping it, while shouting. But she simple said, “just do it better next time”. And didn’t I want to please her. Didn’t I want to demonstrate I was capable of doing what she demanded me to do? Didn’t I want her to be proud on me, like she was the 1st night when I cooked her dinner? But I knew, there are things in life where I fail, where I just cannot cope! I had to learn to deal with that.

I went ahead on the stairs, the roles were reversed. This time it was me, being watched! She could not ignore my bodily status and she with a light sarcasm “it must have been colder than I thought outside”. And she did not refer to my goose skin!

It was a world he did not know. An ordinary man, living an ordinary life, but there were his dreams. Dreams that were fed by browsing online, seeing pictures of beautiful women, in even more beautiful clothes. He could only imagine what it meant, to be young, beautiful, to be dressed like a Queen, to be adored. It made him feel weak and passive. As there was nothing in the world that would touch him after such an experience, such a feeling of life departing, his feelings drained. Was it that bad? He did not know what to say, what to think. He was dumbstruck. However this was not a dream, here he was now, being so close to perfection. It was his first day at work, he was starting a new job on the concert hall, and he was about to open the doors, and let the soloist of tonight enter the hall. All was nearly set, the audience had quietened down, and he was waiting for a small nod from the first violinist, the sign that all was ready. That the world was about to encounter the entrance of this famous Lady. He had stood there, at the door, and saw her all of a sudden, walking towards him. As if! That moment, she was there, all smiles. She was wearing a black evening dress, long, of course, hiding her shoes.  Although when she walked he saw the beautiful curve of the foot, a wonderful black delicate, fragile high heel, s she strolled, it appeared and disappeared and was like a hypnotic wave to watch. He loved feet, he couldn’t help it. But there was more, so much to take in. Above her full breasts, there was a band of silver lace rising up to her neck. Disappearing behind her, holding the dress, as if floating. All was movement, all was in perpetual motion as she danced towards him. Such an adorable beauty, such grace which had he never experienced before. And the scent that was all around her, it nearly made him drowsy. Now he just hoped the signal would be held back as long as possible, let her stay next to me, he silently plead. The hairs on his neck were standing on full alert, his skin was tingling, and he wanted to hold this moment and not let her go. He wanted to go on his knees and adore her full beauty. This was the image of perfection. His mind wanted so much, it was so strongly imposing images on him. There was no awareness anymore, he was simply swept away.

Then came the signal, he hesitated, as to prolong this moment. Let her be here, for him alone, let them wait. But he needed to do his job properly, he could not fail on the first day with this important task. So, he looked at her, and in a flash also noted the conductor, a fat little man of no importance it seemed. Then he nodded, held her gaze, wanted to shout, “I do this for you and you alone”, but remained silent. Of course, the task of the servant is to serve! So, there he swung open the door, stepping aside, letting her through. And she was just inches away. He could have stretched his arm and touch this perfectness, this Goddess-like creature. Only now in passing, he noted the silver tiara on her head, the matching earrings, and the silver embroidery on the dress. Her naked shoulder passed him close by. He could not take his eyes off her, he was glued to the beauty of her body. He cared for music, a lot, but now his whole attention, all his focus was concentrated on her. He could sense desire in himself, a strong and animalistic desire. Not to take, not to burn and rob, but to surrender. He was just someone in passing, just the assistant opening a door, nodding, serving in making her entrance to this hall. When she slowly descended the long stairs, carefully lifting the hem of her dress as not to trip over it, the spotlight was on her. And he saw her magic outline, a supple and gracious body, the hair like golden flax, the silver tiara dispersing, scattering the light in all directions.

And with each step she left his little bubble, that moment of happiness, so short lived, yet so intense.

Dear Friends

I was so delighted with this site, so many friends, so much true and interesting interaction.

yet, all seems to have dissapeted and disapeared.

gone is the interaction, the interesting conversation, the delight of sharing feelings and desires with friends.

I will not leave, just wonder what I have done wrong.

If I believed in a God I would think he is punishing me. Which isn't in itself a bad thing :)

She could hardly believe her eyes, just a few days ago she had never seen this man although he was living fairly close by. An isolated alley separated their houses, and she never wandered there. Nor did he, until now. Or better, a few days ago. His cat had ran away and his wife sent him looking for it. He stood outside her gate when she ventured out to meet him, talk to him. When he returned a few days later he told her his wife had left. Not sure him, more kind of disappeared. She did not encourage him in any way although asking him if she was as ugly as her boyfriend had told her was too obvious. But even that he accepted, he gave an honest answer. And although he did not make any pass at her, something any man with a cock would do after such a remark she felt he was not ignoring her. When he came to her house and waited for her to spot him she could see his eagerness. But surely she did not encourage him, so he had to wait.

She had told him about the dry well in the abandoned house opposite her house. She had showed it him, letting him get over the fear of being caught at trespassing other ones property. She knew all too well no one ever came there. And when she removed the cover of the well, throwing a pebble in to demonstrate the depth, it being dry he had watched. To be honest, when she saw him with a rope ladder, securing it to the nearby tree and seeing him descend in the well she thought he had gone bonkers. What man does such a thing? So she waited, that was about 11 am, 12 hours later it was still there, and he was still in there. Slowly a plan got in her mind. She was a strange girl, 16, living alone, not going to school, no stable relation with anyone, just herself, her mind, and all the interesting stuff on internet. She looked for stories, experiences, people living underground. By their own free will, forced. There was a powerful feeling growing inside her. What if. She could hardly wait, when he was still in the well at 3 am she would venture out, and find out what he was up to. And define her next step.

She was sure he was still in there, for the last hours she had watched the well from her house. Nothing had moved, her binoculars even showed no movement of the rope ladder at all. Now she was outside the well. Feeling at the ladder, maybe he was attached to it, so her plan would not work? Or was it a crazy idea? Should she just stop now, and let him be. Mr Wind Up Bird as she nicknamed him. And he did not object to that, he just took it all in. well, let’s see how he will take this in. and she started pulling up the ladder, very slowly, very carefully. He might not be sleeping, there wasn’t much room to sleep down there. But it was his decision to go to that place, and now it was her decision to keep him there. She carefully placed the ladder on the floor, listened once more and heard nothing. Then she left for home, for bed. Feeling good. A first step to something that might prove her desire to control, not just herself, but others as well. It made her feel light in her head, a rush of joy, a wave of pleasure. Now she looked so much forward to the conversation with the bottom of the well!

How did she manage to sleep, as the adrenaline rushed through her body? As the prospect of the next day excited her beyond any experience. She wanted to touch herself, relief herself and have a blissful orgasm. But she decided it would be much more fun to let the excitement grow, and let her desire take course of the actions. Just knowing he would still be there was enough for her to fall into a deep sleep, short but refreshing. At 9 am she had a shower, breakfast, end prepared herself. A quick look through the binoculars showed no miracle had happened. Het victim should still be at the bottom of the well. When she walked from her house, through the gate into the unfamiliar and overgrown garden she trembled with lust and desire. Bur there was fear as well, what if… But she did not let that thought in her mind poison her, destroy her desire. So the relief when she came to the well and got a reply to her friendly “hello Mr Wind Up Bird” was not that great. But it wasn’t what he said, it was his slow response

“Hello may, is that you?”

“Yes, indeed. It is me. I saw you going down yesterday. And I thought you wanted to stay there. So I decided to take away the ladder. Don’t tell me you did not notice it”

“Yes, I was wondering already, who knew of me. Did you plan this from the start?”

“I better ask you that question. It is a bit strange, going down into a dry well. Not telling anyone I guess?”

“No. no one knows I am here”

“Then tell me, Mr Wind Up Bird, how are you planning to get out. And when, if I may ask?”

There was silence, she waited for any sound, of despair, of worry. When there came no sound she responded to her own words.

“I guess there is no way of getting out then. Since I have no plans to lower the rope ladder soon. Do you have any food, or water”

“Just one small bottle of water”, was his reply

“Good, that means that you will need to think carefully, what it means to be down there. And me being up here. I can decide now what to do. Now, tell me why you had the desire to go down there”

“I just needed to be alone, to think, to have this conversation with myself”

“What conversation?”

“I cannot tell, about my wife walking out of me. About people I met those last days”

“Meaning me?”

“Yes, you too”

“And the young woman you were hugging recently?”

“Yes, her as well”

“You did not tell me about her. Have sex with her?”

“Yes. No, depends. When I think of her I feel desire. That was the yes, but …”

He did not finish his sentence. May replied

“And you expect me to believe that. I saw how close you held her, I saw your hands. On her back, one very low, even touching her ass”

More silence.

“Suppose the ladder was now down, would you get out?”

“No. I am still too confused. But you are right, I should not have held her like that”

“Did she excite you, Mr Wind Up Bird?”

“Yes, she did”

“More than I did then?”

“Yes, you are so young”

“And innocent?”

“Yes, I guess so”

“I am afraid you have to reconsider. I am not innocent. I have been thinking about you being down there, me being up here. You are not yet ready to understand my words, I am sure of that. I could now tell you of the power of life and death, I could tell you about how long one can stay underground. With no food, with little water. But I will not, you want to stay, then stay. But I will make a change. Watch”

And with those words she took the covers of the well and started to put them on the lid. Blocking the opening, stopping the light from entering, making sure his isolation was complete. She did not wait for a reply, or some kind of response, she just loved the strength that raced through her body. Making him her prisoner, declaring him her property. He would understand what that would mean. And apologize for the word “innocent”. If anything gave her pleasure it was making other people see the world is not always a beautiful place. And how was she excited now, this discussion was bringing her pleasure. Pleasure that needed to be released, standing next to the well she touched herself. Pinched her nipples, cupped her breast, while the other hand was in her crotch. Damn, if was nearly getting her off. Not yet, she would come back later. And needed all her resources to work out a strategy. How to bring this man of his knees, begging her. The sheer thought was a delight to her.

It was hard to have patience. She would love to rush back to him, and increase the pressure. It meant so much to her, this feeling of control. But the main question was, and should be, what was the ultimate goal? A quick success, or total destruction? Not often would she get another chance like this. Her Wind Up Bird might not yet know it, but she was prepared to pursue this until the end. One of them would break, and it would not be her. But yes, she was inexperienced, and she needed to be careful. It would beone step at the time. She would return just before dinner time. He would see the fading light, would be hungry, and would probably have finished his water. And he would be still asking himself questons about his damn wife and not understand what he is into now, that his wife running away is just the smallest of his problems. At that point she needed to take him to a next level. And she had to think through how to do that.

When she walked up towards the covered well she was sure there would not be a single noise, she had listened before, just to be sure. For a full five minutes she was next to the well, listening, enjoying the sun on her body, she had brought a bucket with sufficient rope and some bottles filled with water. Now she removed the cover, and let the sunshine fill the depth of the well. The light alone would be a terrible experience to him, it would rush in the darkness, blind him, he might have been waiting for this moment already a long time. And now it was there. He might be scared, she needed to know his state of mind.

“Mr Wind Up Bird, I am back. You are allowed to speak now. Tell me, any more thoughts you want to share with me?”

There was silence, a silence that had to be broken soon, otherwise it would be herself to be broken. She spoke again, now with more intensity. Same words, now adding

“I know you are there, I know you are suffering, I know you regret being down there now. But we cannot change that, do we? We have to move on, you needed time to think. I gave you time, all the time in the world. Speak now,  Mr Wind Up Bird”.

There was his voice coming from the depth, much to her relief. But it was clear, soon that the moment had not come yet. Many “I guess so, that might be true, I don’t know yet” was said. She needed to have him speak to establish his situation, his status, his condition. She wasn’t intending to kill him off, certainly not before she had her fun with him. She asked if he was hungry, and he grunted a bit. Did he still have something to drink, and he told her he had nearly finished his water. She told him she was drinking now, unscrewed a bottle, and spilled a few drops into the well, like sharing abundancy, like rain. Made clear gulping noises, appreciating this treat.

“You know, it is a pity I have to drink alone. That you decided to stay in the well. But I respect that, Mr Wind Up Bird. I truly respect that. And if you wanted me, I could send some water down, in this bucket”, with she flew into the depth, letting it come to rest, empty as it was, high above his head, the well was deep. “But I cannot share that, I cannot do that. It would not be fair. You are on a mission. And I am helping you, I am intensifying your mission and make it worthwhile. For now, we will leave you like this. You are not to die, yet, we both know that. I have done some internet research, amazing how strong a body can be. How long you can last, if only you want. Do you want to last, Mr Wind Up Bird? You will not give up, there is a mess inside your head. There are too many girls playing tricks with your mind. Your wife for a start, than the girl in the house, and there is me of course. But my play is the most intense and the most real. We both know that. And tell you what, Mr Wind Up Bird, I like it that way. You know I am easily bored, with school, with the odd jobs that I do, with people. For now I am not bored, I want you to know that. I want you to know that I think of you a lot. Every minute, yes. Do you have a watch there? I want you to take it off, and put it in the bag that you carry. I want you to stop checking the time, again and again. Just listen to what I say, and obey. You will find solace in my words, you know that obedience brings you another step closer”

She let hang the silence. She heard him move. Responding to her words. When it was quiet again she restored the lid in place, no word uttered, no promise, no threat. Just silence. And darkness for him.

She wondered how long she had to wait, it was now nearly 7 pm. He was in the well for nearly 36 hours. No food isn’t exceptional, no light would be worse she guessed. He was finishing his water, thirst would kick in the next twelve hours. And even then it would take at least two more days to become critical. So, plenty of time. He needed to suffer, but mostly accept her as his saviour, his salvation, his master to step back into life. For now he needed to lose sense of time, to be cut from the ongoing movement of time. Timeless would he feel alone. Would think, and understand. She was standing next to the well, looking at the lid, thinking of his fate, and felt so good, so excited. In the fading light she knew no one would see her. She crouched down next to the well, her back to the stones that made the top. Now her hand slit under her shirt and found her little sensitive breasts. If these breasts had have been bigger, well developed she might have seduced the man earlier. Now he had fallen for this other girl. But her touching made her feel good. Her nipples were hard, the breast firm, the skin sensitive. Her other hand touched her crotch, through the fabric of the jeans she was wearing. And she felt this feeling of wetness spreading from the true centre of her body all over her. The palm of her hand felt slick, the skin of her breast was moist, and the excitement grew fast. She needed that to feel alive. She had done this before, she had experienced power before. But that was only a short lived moment. Now time was on her side, now she was spinning time into control, her control. And she closed her eyes as if to exclude the world from this feeling. How could can you feel without having an instant orgasm? Very good, and she wanted to wait. She was the virgin, waiting for her bride’s night. Tomorrow she would send these moist knickers down the well so he could inhale her scent. No food for the stomach, but food for his desire. She knew now that tomorrow another step could be made. She had to stop touching herself, otherwise even her jeans would be messy and wet. More than anything before she was excited.

She had spent the night watching a movie, trying to get to sleep, feeling restless, taking another shower, ordering herself not to touch herself, not to cup those lovely breasts, not to pinch her own nipples. If anything, it was hard. It was close to impossible. And so was the hardness in her groin, beyond any experience before. How did she ache for release, but it had to wait. Tomorrow 9 am, when all the neighbours left for work and school she would once again approach the well. And make another step towards defying its inhabitant.

She was carrying the same gear as yesterday, the bucket with a rope, and waterbottles. At breakfast she had drunk already quite some amount of water. So, she felt she was ready. Now she did not wait to remove the cover, she knew he was there. All was exactly as she had left it! So, letting the sun shoot into the depth of the well was a sudden explosion of light. He woud be blinded, he would be cripple, both physically and mentally. She called for him, expecting npt a direct response. He would need to time to adjust. But to her surprise the response came immediately.

“hello May, I am glad you are there”

“why is that Mr Wind Up Bird, do you have an important message for me? Or are you hungry or thirsty? I brought some water, just in case”. And she unscrewed the cap, letting drops fall into the well, like light rain. Knowing it would be tempting. There came no reply. She waited.

“Gueess you changed your mind? I go again?” The soft motion from below indicated doubt, so she waited a bit more.

“no. I am here. Please let me speak. It is important. The darkness, being here all alone, waiting for you, it showed me…” Silence again. She waited patiently, he needed time, her little one. And she had all the time in the world! Although, he might collapse under pressure and the stress. Or the thirst? He would be without water now for over 12 hours. The he continued

“it showed me, you are indeed not young and innocent. I am sorry I said that”.

“don’t be sorry, show it to me. I think you can guess how”

More silence, men are such silly cows. He could not imagine she was waiting for just some serious words, some proper understanding of their position. Now at this moment, and how this could never change, since he would only get out, once he had done the right thing.

“well, I think I will explain it to you. I am more or less insulted by your lack of interest in me. I thought you would have seen before I am not like the hugging girl you held before. I am 16, I am ready for life, I have taken control over school and decided to step away from that. I am not interested in obeying orders by others. Now it is my turn, to command, to be obeyed, to be understood. So, if you ever want to drink again, and I really mean ever, you will have to make a step. Need more explaining? Wait, let me drink some since I get thirsty standing here in the sun. You are lucky you are down there.” And again she unscrewed the cap, gulped the water down, and made sure some spilled from her mouth, sending the drops down to the well. Giving her petite chest a wet t-shirt contest look. She smiled at her ow clumsiness, she liked herself wel enough to let her hands softly touch the wet spots, stimulating this sensation that was awaiting in her body for a few days now.

“yes, I understand. I need to drink, I need to talk to you, I think I have been down here long enough. Can you please drop the ropeladder”

Now she laughed, “are you serious? do you really think I will do that? I am afraid you did not understand the meaning of my words!”