Visit groups.myspace.com/BDSMNation Local BDSMers group www.aby.com (ABDL group) I am also an amiture writer. I write mostly erotica, and horror. ...As the lash came crashing down on my moist, sweat soaked skin I wriggled, and let loose a whimper. His rough, strong hand caressed my stinging backside, forcing more whimpers from me. His voice stern, comanding. "Now, then. Do we understand each other?" My jaw clenched down, my lips locked tight. I could not anwser him, my pride would not allow it. I wouldn't give into him. Again the lash came down, licking my pink, sore skin. He leaned over me, placed his hands on the sides of me and whispered in my ear. "Your pride will do you no good here. You know who you are, you know what you need. You're only proglonging it, let go, give into me." He suddenly grabed my hair, and yanked my head back "...and besides the point I am loosing my paitence." He growled, and released my hair. My voice gave a few more whimpers seeming to have a mind of it's own, I squirmed under his weight. He knew me well, how he was so right. His words stung as harsh as the lash, and bit deep into me. I struggled and managed to pull my body an inch or two away from him. His hands snaked out, and pinned my wrists to the bed. I struggled harder, but it wasn't me struggling with him. I was struggling with myself, I could feel my pride leaking out of me, feel the tears behind my eyes waiting to be released. Some where in my mind a voice spoke, soft, and calm. "Just give in, it's so much easier to just give in. You are his, and under his control. There is no need for pride here, he is your pride. You want this so bad, why do you make it so hard? Give in, you want it? Give it to yourself!" It was my voice, but at the same time it wasn't. I felt the tears stream down my hot face, his rough jeans pressed against my back side, scrapping the raw skin. I was pleading with him now, my voice bearly above a whisper. My walls breaking down and crumbling. I needed this, right here and now. This thing, my own breaking. My loss of control, molding me into what I want to be. "Sir, please. No more, I'm so sorry. Please, I beg you, no more." My voice was scratchy with tears, and shaking. He released my wrists, and sat on the end of the bed. "Come here baby." He spoke, his arms outstretched. I fled to him my arms wrapping around his stomach, my head resting on his chest. Suddenly I began to cry harder, soaking my neck. "Oh, there now. It wasn't so bad. I'm so proud of you my dear. You did so well." His words were kind, and his touch was soft. He held me in his arms, and rocked me back and fourth. I felt a calm set over me like a blanket, warming me. I was his now, but I always had been his. He allowed the struggle, knowing what I needed. I had left everything behind, and now there was only calmness, and a strong willingness to submit, and please him. I had thought it was over, and the day could be spent holding each other. But I had disobeyed him, and there was still the matter of my punishment...

I enjoy all kinds of different music, from classical, to hard rock, to making my Sir blush when I bump and grind to R&B. Some of my favorites are... Mudvayne, Hurt, STP, Pearl Jame, R. Kelly (older stuff), Baby Face, Too Short, TLC, 30 seconds to Mars, three days grace, Nickleback, Seether, and many more.