Goodbye cruel world
I’m leaving you today
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye all you people
There’s nothing you can say
To make me change
My mind
Goodbye.
This is the end
Beautiful friends
This is the end
My only friends, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I’ll never look into your eyes…again
The end.
The bitch is dead. May she rot in hell.
I see other dominants around. They have subs, sometimes just one, sometimes two or three, sometimes a gaggle of them. The subs fawn over their dominant. They show him (or her) such adoration and devotion. Practically worshipping at their feet. I see this, and I smile. How must that make the dominant feel? To be worshipped thus?
To be practically worshipped and adored in such a way is very heady. It gives you a big head, even if you don’t want it to, it does. But what displays true devotion? What can a slave do that shows true and deep dedication?
Sometimes I give my slave, meat, tasks to perform. Little things really. Yesterday I gave my meat some tasks. But, it had a horrible day yesterday. Nothing terrible, but stressful, physically and emotionally draining kind of bad day. When I saw her in the evening, she had a severe headache – the kind that makes one see spots – and was tired, exhausted really. If it had come to me in its state, and told me of her day, and her current physical discomfort, and asked to forego the tasks for that day, I would have allowed her to do them the next day. I love my meat. While I like it to suffer for me, I want to be the cause of that suffering. It did not come to me, and beg off the tasks. Instead, even though it was exhausted with a blistering headache, it completed the tasks. It did them superbly at that.
That shows me my meat’s deep, deep level of devotion and dedication. It put aside its own discomfort, and completed what I wanted it to complete. It did it because it wanted to make me happy. And it did, and I love it all the more for its sacrifice and suffering.
This is the last day of 2009. We are in the waning hours of not only the year, but also the decade. The past year has been an interesting one to say the least. I’m reminded of the time I went four-wheeling in the mountains of Colorado. It was in July, the middle of the summer, and yet, on that day, I experienced all four seasons in the space of a few hours – we went from about 85 degrees at the base of the mountain, to snow and freezing temps as we neared the top. Anyway, this year was a lot like that. From lowest lows to the most ecstatic of highs, all jumbled together into one helluva roller-coaster ride.
In case I happened to miss anyone, or you aren’t on my friends list,
I wanted to make sure we wished you all a very Happy Christmas,
and a prosperous new year!
Dogan, the human trafficking POW style camp that I run, has created a new website (http://doganwhorecamp.ning.com/). People can join the website, and post pics, videos or stories. There is a forum for discussion, and private messaging between members of the site, and a calendar for events (which we’ll start having soon, promise). Feel free to drop by and check it out.
The other day, Zeno (my business partner) mentioned how she really enjoyed our family. She clarified the statement saying she meant her, me, T (my former master), my lovely piece of slave flesh and her own girls.
Now, they say you can’t pick your family, but I would disagree. Family is, sure, blood relations, but often, these are not nearly as enjoyable as those we love as much or more, who have no blood relations. I find these relationships, the best, and Zeno is right, we have a great family, and I do love and enjoy our family.
Recently, and old friend stopped by the Dogan where I spend the majority of my time. This girl, I have known for maybe close to two years, probably a little less. She recently left the place where I had met and cultivated a relationship with her. She’d been a slave at that other place, as many were – and some still are.
When she came to visit, she was not interested in being a slave anymore. I don’t know what happened there that caused her to leave, or to swear off being under anyone else’s collar. She didn’t offer any explanation, and I didn’t prod for one. She is a dear and loving person, and always such a joy to be around.
Without question, and without reservation, we welcome this beautiful creature into our family, as yet another loved member. In this picture is me, my lovely piece of slave flesh, a visitor friend, and our newest family member (the hottie in red).
My dear friend Gera has a post up on her blog about a protest against violence in the sim Hard Alley.
Now, Hard Alley is place where the main theme is rape and hard, violent sex.
Of course, the protest is against places that cater to violence against women. I guess these folks don’t give a hoot about places that cater to violence against men.
Frankly, I’m a tad jealous of Unca Hard. You can’t buy advertising like this. Too bad they didn’t come to Dogan, we could use the publicity.
I was busy at Dogan, rearranging the cantina, taking out a few of the dancing poles, making more room for people to dance, and lounge. Making it a bit more open and less crowded, when I heard a little squeak. I had to look around, then finally down to see this little mouse of a girl standing there. Looking all sexy, hawt and, well, kinda pathetic overall. I smiled at her, as I do with most of them, a benevolent, kind (dare I say ‘maternal’?) smile. The girl was very pale, and vibrant purple hair, wearing a long sleeved t-shirt, and some sort of army type pants.
Old friends, re-united. It was a good day at Dogan. Friends I hadn’t seen in quite a while dropped by.
With the purchase of the new whore – a true and unending painslut. She’s a crazy, panther like slut, but we love her dearly!
Other friends, whom I haven’t seen for nearly as long, such a sight for my eyes. Lovely people, a wonderful man, and his slave who is as lovely on the inside, as she looks on the outside.
When I woke up that day, I knew what I was going to do. I approached it, and slowly began to remove its garments. It was dressed in a soft corset, with bicep length gloves a skirt, and what I endearingly call its “pussy corset” – a set of leather panties with a drawstring that can be drawn oh so deliciously tight. I stripped it naked, slowly, caressing it, kissing it. Tasting the sweet moisture my attentions caused it to create. I then placed a gag and blindfold on it, connected its chain, and walked it out of our cabin to the whore camp, where I had ordered everything I would need to be arranged and set up. We entered the compound, the slave’s lovely breasts swaying as it walked, naked, gagged and blind behind me.
 | secondlifeslut on My baby’s father |
 | crow on My baby’s father |
 | Lara Lynn on Dedication & Devotion |
