Seduced by a Confident Woman

She dresses as if every moment were a planned event. Yet does so with such grace, the details are lost in the beauty of her motions, the subtleties of each movement.  So captivating, it's easy to slide into a false sense of security, allowing yourself to become bewitched by her softness, and her slow sensual style.

But behind that feminine gaze is a pantheress, awaiting her chance to lure you in.  


It's senseless to fight! By the time you realize the trap, you are happily beguiled, and fall willingly.  In fact, in the final approach, you see the danger ahead, but accept it willingly.  She has you, your heart & soul wrapped nicely in a bow! You are hers to unwrap slowly, so every second she spends doing so, brings sweat to your brow, and further submission, as your will becomes hers, and you, her slave! 


Take my soul please!  I am your willing supplicant! Please, just allow me the chance to see your smile, and for you to tell me you're happy with whatever I can offer you!

Dominance & Submission

Ultimately an examination of the extreme motions pent up inside.  For some of us, they begin while young, while for others these desires evolve over time.  Either way, they often become the best way to find ourselves, and discover whom we really are.

Oh Bad Girl!  And which side of this do you wish to be on?  Perhaps a try at both?  Either can be so delicious, but for the experience to be enjoyed, 'trust' is paramount, or boundaries shall never truly be crossed, and the experience can never really become fulfilling.

There is that desire to give up control, at least to some degree in all of us.  But how much, and to whom do we desire to submit?  Mmm, that search can be so delicious, yet so frightening.  A trip through our minds can be quite a challenge.

Yet, once we do give up control, the path initially is slow, subtle.  At first, we don't even know we are being led.  We believe we are in a 'normal' relationship.  But slowly, deftly she weaves her web of seduction, like a black widow luring her mate to eventually, willingly giving up his life. We are wrapped in her web, her superior talents overcome our soul. We fall, not realizing already, our path is set, destiny before us, and a separate path is now the one we walk along.


Mmmm, of course some dreams can be so delicious, courting the pain we desire, and the pleasure we aren't quite sure is there.  But we want it still, so badly we can taste it!





And how far shall our submission take us?  Perhaps that is contingent upon how well the Domme is able to lure our trust, draw out our submission, and intoxicate our soul until we are unable to close the doors to the boundaries we allowed her to bust open.  Like a barn door all our hidden dreams, nightmares fly out into the night, to be used, manipulated, then twined about us until we are unable to distinguish our dreams, nightmares, or fantasies from our own reality.  How enticing can that be?  Hhhmmm, perhaps quite yummy! Yet maybe, this is the very fear keeping us from allowing ourselves to tread that path we so long to tempt!

The more traditional dichotomy, at least to the outside.  But really, it creates an image to the outsider really misunderstood.  Yet to some, can become such an allure, perhaps candy to venture more, until they are the moth caught in the flame.  Or perhaps, Icarus flying too close to the sun, only to melt his wings and fall to earth!  But oh, how high we can fly when the bridles of society are released, and our true selves can become unleashed!

To anyone who has looked at my blog over the past few days, they will notice I keep adding to this post, which shows just how it haunts me, and how preoccupied my many dreams seem to be with it. And yet, this tells me I must soon acquiesce and give into my submission, or allow its draw to build continually, haunting me until I ultimately collapse and become a slave to it.  Perhaps it is my destiny, or merely a folly to which I am undeniably addicted.  Either way, I fear the longer I avoid jumping head-on into it (instead of the occasional foray into it here & there,) the stronger its hold on me shall become. 

Mark & Ron, Kidnapped & Changed

Mark awoke from his slumber, still groggy but somehow feeling aroused.  Hands tied firmly behind his back.  He couldn't understand why his legs were clad in black stockings, and sexy pink heels on his feet.  An erotic feel flowed over his denuded skin, as the air tingled.  "Oh, this feels so...so......mmmmm...nice!  Where am I?"

A commanding, yet sexy female voice behind him tells him to keep quiet, and speak only when spoken to.  "For the time being, just focus on your body.  Doesn't it feel nice?  You will grow to love your new life as a woman.  It will all become quite clear my pet! For now, Marcia you will remain my little slut, as I teach you to be a good little whore!"

Still groggy, Mark didn't understand, but in time, he would grow into his (her) new body, and even answer without reservation to her new name.  Reverberating in his mind like a mindless echo...Marcia...Marcia...Marcia!

Meanwhile, Mark's partner, and fellow agent Ron was awakening from one dream into another one he is unable to fathom.  "What have you done to me?  Why am I here?  Where are my clothes?"  

"Silence you insolent girl! You will keep quiet like a good little slut until you're ready for the next step in your new life as a paid whore!"

"What?  A whore!  You are crazy!  I am not a girl!  What have you done to me?  Get me out of here!  My partner will come get me, and then the two of us will put you & all your people away for good!"

The feminine voice laughed.  "Oh your partner Mark, or should I say now Marcia?  She won't be coming to your aid anytime soon.  In fact the two of you will be the trophy whores at our next auction.  We look forward to the two of you fetching us a pretty penny.  Too bad most of our customers are wealthy sheiks in the Mid-East.  You are likely never to be seen here again anyway.  Although, you seem to have more of a mouth on you.  I think I like you better as a blonde...a Blonde Bombshell.  Yes, that's what you will be:  Roxanne, the cock hungry,  dumb blonde!  I'll have my people affect your programming immediately!"  The Institute Mistress laughed as she walked away.  Her stilettos clicking in time with each sway of her leather-clad hips.  Ron fought mightily to get away, but to no avail.  Suddenly, from behind he felt the sharp pain from a needle, and all went black.

After months of conditioning, Roxanne was taken from her room.  It had been long since that day she had awoken taped to the chair.  Her programming had been true.  The name 'Ron' meant nothing to her now.  She stood for inspection, not knowing or caring about anything but serving her Mistress, in any way instructed.  Roxanne now was mindless, able to think of nothing for herself, but there was one need she had.  One that would become the driving force in every thought preoccupying her every deed.  She needed sex!  And whatever she could do to get it, she was unable to deny this base desire.

The day had arrived.  Roxanne and Marcia had spent months through surgeries, mental transformations, and now they were on display!  Their bodies visions of perfection.  Their minds longing for the chance to serve, and show their servitude.  Any thoughts of their previous lives long gone, and never to return.

Purchased as a pair, Marcia and Roxanne felt a mutual attraction.  Somehow, they knew they belonged together.  Any chance possible, when alone the two would explore their sexualities, developing a strong taste for each other, and the softness they each had.  Together they'd sleep, touch, kiss, and caress.  They'd even dream of each other, thus developing such an intense lust, the two former partners, now lovers became inseparable.

  

And as they became just a pair of a private harem, far from the once familiar streets of New York, they still found ways to do things together, and to feel the mutual admirations and desires they harbored.

"Mmmmpf!"  The two passionately kissed and caressed the yummy cock!  There is no better breakfast, than to wake up each morning to the taste of sweet ambrosia.  Life is so sublime as mindless harem girls!