Spankfully Mine

This experience started here. All right, here's the conclusion. Bethany (my new roommate) and I were in an argument about the morality of slavery. She had just claimed she would like to be a slave... She said, "I would be a horrible slave owner. I can’t even keep myself on the straight and narrow, much less someone looking to me to make their decisions. I make terrible decisions. I decided to buy a car I couldn’t afford, and clothes I didn’t need, and I ended up practically on the streets. But I would be a great slave.” “If you became a real slave,” I sternly replied,“and were not just playing a role in someone’s kinky fantasy, he would have all the control. What if he hurt you? What if he told you to do degrading things or things you didn’t want to do? The only place I know of for sure that has slavery is Africa, and you would just be a sex-object there. Raped and constantly pregnant.” She clenched her fists on her knees. “I wouldn’t be a slave to someone who would

This experience started here. Sorry about the unexpected interruption. We were discussing how this entire lifestyle began. Pura had unexpectedly asked me about my sexuality, but I had decided I was going to ignore it. For a lot of reasons, not the least of which being I was a big chicken A very, very cute chicken. *smiles wickedly at her slave* Be careful, Pura. If you interrupt my story again, I'll spank you. *Pura laughs and is not the least bit concerned about that silly threat* Mistress, I don't really believe you, and also, if you did not want me to interrupt you, you would not pass over the computer when I so sweetly request it. You mean when you yank it out of my hands? *Spank!* Get the picture? Yes, Mistress. *Shoots her readership a skeptical look* I will sit quietly and let you tell your story. Thank you. Anyway... Several hours passed in silence. She had the TV on for a while, but when I got my laptop out to work on some things, she shut it off. S

I thought since I told you how Bethany and I met , I should now explain how she and I started this silly relationship we now enjoy. This is how it all started: Before anything really happened between us, I had rescued her from a life on the street, and she had been living with me for a little while looking for a job... She looked for a job for a week but with no luck. She was hardly a burden on me at all. I already paid the full rent and there is always enough food in my house. She cleaned up after herself and sometimes after me too. And she was good company. I looked forward to coming home after teaching each day, because I knew Bethany would be there, and dinner would probably be made, and we would chat and laugh and watch TV together. Until Bethany moved in, I had not realized how lonely it was to live alone. Aww... My poor Mistress! Well, I'm here to stay now . She had almost nothing; clothes, books, and a couple of hideous lamps that I made her keep in her room.

Pura's Principles to Live By This post is written by Pura. It is Mistress Nichole who usually posts, so I thought I should specify. Mistress wanted me to explain my rules, and I will do so. I have been on domestic discipline blogs for a while, reading up on this thing we do, wondering if I was crazy to crave this kind of authority in my life. There is much more to Mistress and me than DD, of course. We are living in a Mistress/slave relationship, and that's not exactly normal, as my mother regularly points out. But we're pretty simple, really. We're not particularly kinky, as our lifestyle might represent. Mistress is not really into humiliation, and really, neither am I. We're not one of those "come here and be tortured, slave" situations. I mean no disrespect to people who have that sexual need. We just do not. We are trying for a balanced relationship. Mistress, as the Top and HoH, is the one to whom I submit. I, as the Bottom, often receive a

This experience started here. All right... Here goes the EPIC conclusion to this horrible story. Sorry I dragged it on needlessly long. I have been having a kind of hard week, so I hope you will forgive me. I left off with Pura saying something completely in character, but completely inappropriate. After she had been out drinking with irresponsible friends, manipulated into a forbidden conversation with her abusive mother, flirtatiously attracting the kissing attentions of a handsome stranger, and arrested for stupidity involving alcohol, nudity, and some other unmentionable furious-making things, she said, and I quote... "Really, if you think about it, it's not that big a deal, Mistress." What? I opened the car door and pushed her out onto her feet. I smacked her across the bottom with as much force as I have ever used when we are in a place others might see. (The garage is an underground apartment garage where lots of people park.) She could not have made me mor

This experience started here. Okay, so I had to run yesterday and so I did not finish my story. I believe I left you dangling at the ride home from the police station. Here's what happened next: "Let's go home," I said, and turned to drive the car. Pura cried most of the way home, and for once in our life together, I did not strive to comfort her. Just in case you are already judging me, please note that my affections for Pura have not changed and have even, if possible, deepened. I just felt I should not try to comfort her when it was very important for her to feel the complete agony of her mistakes. If she's always rescued from her feelings, she'll do this again, and I am here to say that is not happening! About halfway home, I said, "Did someone bail out your friends?" She shook her head no and sniffled into the sleeve of her scandalous dress. That's right: scandalous. I can hardly believe she went into public in something so small

Oh...One of THOSE days! Pura went out with friends a few days ago and made a complete disaster of life. Crazy bad choices and let's just say...mug shot! Are you kidding me? I know I signed on to take care of her, and I never once have backed down from that responsibility. But I did not ever think I would be paying a bail. Her call from the station was the most shocking call I have ever received in my life: "Nichole?" "Pura? Where are you? What's wrong?" I knew something was wrong because she called me by name and she never does that. Not even when we're in company. She simply does not refer to me if we're in front of others, rather than call me something other than "Mistress." "I need you to listen very carefully and try not to freak out. Okay?" "You're scaring me. Are you okay?" I waited impatiently while she remained silent. Finally, at long last, she drew a shaky breath. She spoke tearfully, "I