Santa’s Favorite Elf

Sexy girl posing in Santa costume forSome of the so-called Gentlemen at the Retreat like to make me feel good. I guess it strokes their egos along with other parts of them as they watch my body react to their touch. Some men like to hurt me. I don’t know what issues they have and why they enjoy seeing other human beings suffering at their hands but I’m not their shrink, nor do I suppose they have one. None of the men seem to have any problem justifying their use or abuse of me and if it even occurs to them that I’m not here willingly they don’t care.

There are other men who like to dress things up a little. There are the obvious school girl or secretary requests but sometimes I’m told to prepare myself and get into character for something very different and very particular. That’s sort of what happened when I turned up at the Retreat last night.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, I suppose, considering it’s Christmas. I walked into the house slowly, quietly, and carefully as I always do, pushing open those big, heavy doors with dread.

“You’re cute. You’ll do.”

I looked up just in time to see something red and white flying through the air at me. (I had been carefully staring at the floor to try and avoid making eye contact with anyone. Sometimes, if you look away and pretend you’re already doing something or on your way to see someone else, the men leave you alone. For a while, anyway.)

I managed to catch the bundle in my arms.

“Follow me.”

Clutching what looked like clothing I followed the man up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. He closed the door and locked it. Continue reading →

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Mr. Mysterious

Hello, my sweet and wonderful friend! I feel good today. It’s the middle of winter and although it doesn’t really get that cold here and I’ve yet to see it snow, it does feel rather festive. There are holiday lights out around town and some people have Christmas trees in their houses or front lawns. And of course, at the Retreat, there are the usual decorations.

The Retreat.

Yes, I’m still going there as Taun told me to but I don’t go every day. He has been gone so long now that I’m wondering if he’ll ever be back. His instructions were that I go there every day without fail and you can imagine how terrified I was the first time I accidentally missed a day!

It wasn’t my fault. There had been two men the previous evening and they had made up some kind of game which they obviously understood very well and had played many times before but I just couldn’t get the hang of it. They hurt me, a lot, and it was very, very frightening. When they finally let me go home I managed to get back to my house (I really don’t know how I did that as I could barely walk) and I fell asleep on the sofa in the living room because I couldn’t even make it up the stairs to my bed.

I slept for well over twelve hours, I think, and when I finally woke up, showered, dressed, and ate a little something, I realized with horror that I had missed a whole day and night at the Retreat. I was so scared that something bad would happen to me, that Taun would know straight away and someone would come to punish me. When I next went to the Retreat I was sure Mr. Negulesco or someone would grab me. Continue reading →

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You’ll be Well Taken Care of…

Naked woman having orgasmHe’s gone again. Taun. Just when things were starting to become a little bit okay, it’s all messed up again. I didn’t exactly love my life but at least it was more or less predictable. I knew I had to win back Taun’s love and trust and that maybe, just maybe, if I proved myself, then he would let me stay at the house and not force me to go to the Retreat every day.

But perhaps he does enjoy knowing I’m there, after all. At first, he said he sent me there because he had to; because Mr. Negulesco was only renting me to him and Taun didn’t have the right to keep me all the time. Then, when he claimed that he had bought me, he told me I had to go to the Retreat as punishment. More recently, he has simply said that I have to go and “work” every day, that I must go to the Retreat, or just walk around town, but that I have to be available to any man who wants to have me.

Yet he still claims that his only goal is the sole and unique use of my body, that he loved me once and would love me again, that he sees me as a person and not just a sex thing with holes.

So I’ve been as well-behaved as I can, servicing the men who want me and then returning happily to Taun each night. Sometimes he’s there, sometimes he isn’t. But he must know what happens. Somehow, he has found out that although I hate the men who use me and hate what they do to me – and I really, really do – a tiny part of me keeps betraying the rest. Continue reading →

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Elust 98

Steamy bedtime Elust98 header

Photo courtesy of Steamy Bedtime

Welcome to Elust 98

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #99 Start with the rules, come back October 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Black and white

Underdressed

I Talk Sex – Female Sexuality and Education

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

You Don’t Know What Love Is

Writing for Free vs. Getting Paid

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Ropes, Silk, & an Egg

 

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy! Continue reading →

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Ropes, Silk, & an Egg

Everything is a mess. My head and my body have had a huge argument and I’m not sure that they’ll ever speak to each other again!

I know it has been ages since I wrote to you last, my dear, sweet and faithful friend. I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t face talking about things until I felt a little less confused.

Actually, that’s not completely true. Because often talking to you really helps me sort my muddled thoughts out but this time it was more than that. This time I was ashamed and I was desperately trying to be someone I am not and I realize now that I knew if I just started to allow myself to think freely – the way I do when I write to you – that all my resolve would come apart.

I tried so hard to be the girl Mr. Negulesco wants me to be. I really thought he had made me into that girl, or rather that object. And some of what he writes in those poems does still ring true, deep inside me. I’m conflicted, very conflicted. But things have happened in the past few months to make me realize that it’s not as simple as Mr. Negulesco told me; that the truth is perhaps somewhere between what he claims it to be and what I thought it was.

A lot has happened since I wrote last and I can’t possibly fit everything into one diary entry so I will have to return several times to fill you in completely. But here’s the first installment: Continue reading →

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At the park – Doggy Part 2

Clara panting puppy playThat’s better. A little, anyway. I’ve slept well for the last two nights and am ready now to tell you about what happened when Mr. Kozlov took me to the park and made me pretend to be a dog. (The events leading up to this are in my previous diary entry, if you’d like to read that again, my sweet friend.)

My knees and wrists ached, despite the fact that the little park wasn’t far away. It’s not easy moving on all fours, especially when you’re scared and a man is half-dragging you along.

“Here we are, Doggy. At the park. I’ll sit here on this bench while we wait for your new friend and her owner. Sit at my feet. I hope you remember the commands I taught you. Sit!”

Looking down, feeling completely and totally miserable, embarrassed, and afraid, I obeyed his command. On the ground next to the bench I sat back on my heels and tucked my “front paws” into my chest (but of course to the side of my breasts so as not to cover them) and spread my legs wide. I held my chin up, opened my mouth and began to silently pant. I managed to position the “tail” in between my feet so that it didn’t push further up into my poor bottom but it still felt strange and unpleasant and I hoped I wouldn’t have to hold this position for very long.

Looking up at Mr. Kozlov, I tried to see by his expression if he was satisfied with me. I had an idea of what was going to happen when the other “dog” arrived and I absolutely hated it, but I knew it wouldn’t be any better or easier for me if I misbehaved now.

His smile and slight nod told me I had satisfied his sick imagination and gotten the command correct.

“Good Doggy.”

He patted me on the head then played with my hair, exactly the way one would with a puppy dog. Tears filled my eyes and I didn’t bother to hold them back. Technically dogs don’t cry but I’m sure Mr. Kozlov delights in my tears (he must because he makes me cry so often) and he didn’t seem to care this time because he didn’t tell me off or punish me.

“Ah, here they are!” Continue reading →

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Doggy

What Mr. Kozlov did to me that day was awful. Not the most painful, nor the most frightening, not even the most humiliating. But what he did – or rather made me do – has had an effect on me that I will never be able to erase.

I know I have spoken almost favorably about Mr. Kozlov in the past. He has often made me feel so good, and I’ve sometimes thought that I liked him and very foolishly even believed that he liked me. But I now know that he doesn’t feel anything for me at all and the only reason he visits me at the Retreat is so he can try out new and terrible ways to make my life more and more miserable.

It’s a bit strange to write this account up now, with all that has happened recently. As you know, my darling friend, I have completely accepted my life here at the Gentleman’s Retreat. I know that I am nothing and that my feelings don’t matter. I know that now. I do. Really. But of course when the events I’m about to tell you about happened, I was still fighting it. I was still convinced that I’m a girl, a person, a human with rights, needs, dreams…

Mr. Kozlov made me feel like an animal which is one step towards feeling like an object. And objects don’t feel, do they?

But when this all happened I did feel and so I will try and write it with the same thoughts and feelings as I had then. It won’t be hard to do as I will never forget them.

I was walking around outside enjoying the gentle warmth of the sun on my skin and it occurred to me that even though I hated being half- or completely naked in front of strangers, I really did like it when no one could see me. Even before coming to the Retreat I’d always enjoyed wearing as little clothing as was decent, just so I could feel the wind and sun or even the rain on my skin. I’m a very tactile person and it doesn’t take much to make my body feel something, whether good or bad. But I would never have chosen to walk around in just my underwear, or topless, or with a short skirt and no panties, which is what I have to do now.

Anyway, I was walking around in the gardens of the Retreat, wearing a pretty but terribly skimpy summer dress. I felt so vulnerable and exposed with no underwear whatsoever, knowing that even a gentle breeze would show everything off to anyone who happened to be nearby.

“Oh, how clumsy of me, I seem to have dropped my cell phone. Pick it up, Clara, would you?” Continue reading →

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Elust 95

Elust 95 Header
Photo courtesy of A to Sub Bee

Welcome to Elust 95

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #96 Start with the rules, come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Size Matters

Driven to Distraction

Under the Sea

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

My London Bridge

A Kind Touch

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Organised Orgasms

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts and Advice on Kink and Fetish

The Story of O (4) – Tears
Emotions and negotiations
Jeans genie

Erotic Fiction

crawling
Displayed & Defeated
Hangover Hunger
Broken to Be.
A Tarot Reading
Maddie’s virginity (last hours) Continue reading →

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Sadeness

I’ve been feeling so sad recently. I know that doesn’t matter; I know it’s not important whether I’m happy or sad or how I feel at all. But I need to write about it in my diary because it doesn’t seem to be going away and it’s preventing me from being able to concentrate on what is important. Which is, of course, serving the Gentlemen and providing them with whatever service they require.

And anything that gets in the way of providing full service to the Gentlemen is a problem. Which is why feeling so sad isn’t good because it’s making me really tired and I’ve been sleeping a lot more than usual and if I’m asleep I can’t serve the Gentlemen at all. (Except the ones who enjoy using me while I’m groggy with sleep or waking me suddenly with a smart slap to my bottom.)

And (least importantly but still noteworthy because I tell you everything, my dear friend,) my sadness over the past few days has meant that I still haven’t been able to tell you about my last encounter with Mr. Kozlov and I need – I absolutely need – to get that done. I don’t know why I feel such a need to write but it’s just something inside me that has to get out. It’s like a bird in a cage, flying against the bars, hurting, hitting, exhausting its tiny self over and over again until finally the cage door opens and it flies free; it soars, glides, rides the warm air currents up and up, around and around, singing beautiful songs, thrilling in the ride, the view, the feel of the wind. Then eventually, blissfully happy but absolutely exhausted, it returns to its cage on earth where it waits for the strength to build to start all over again. I never wrote before I came to the Retreat and was instructed to journal but now that I’ve been doing it for so long I don’t think I could stop, or would want to, even if I were taken away from here.

But anyway, I need to stop thinking about all that. I need to focus on something concrete. Such as Mr. Negulesco’s latest Meditation:

Men deserve something to play with whenever they want.
Men deserve something to worship their cocks.
Men deserve something to step on.
Men deserve something to violently abuse.
Men deserve something to take for granted.
Men deserve something to cum on.
Men deserve something to throw away when finished with it.
I am nothing but some thing.

Say it. Believe it. Live it.

Sincerely,
Carlo Negulesco
Retreat Director

I just didn’t think I’d be so sad all the time. I’ve accepted my place, my role, my life here at the Gentleman’s Retreat and I’m trying so hard to embrace it and live it to the full. But, I don’t know, something won’t gel.

Maybe I just need to give it a little time. I’ve been fighting for so long, perhaps it will take me a while to really learn how to stop struggling and relax into it. I just can’t seem to stop questioning things such as, in the poem, why does it say “something to violently abuse” but it doesn’t also say “something to love”? Surely some men are interested in loving a woman, in being gentle and sweet to her? I mean, of course all men have the right to do whatever they want to a woman, and her desires aren’t important at all, but don’t some men enjoy being kind?

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Meditations & Thank You

Second Life Role-play sim

The Gentleman’s Retreat, place of Second Life role-play greatness

Hi Clara’s Diary,

Charlotte here, popping in to say a quick word about the “Inspirational Meditations” that I’ve been including recently.

I like to keep the diary entries completely in character and therefore each time one of these poems appears in a post I give credit in the comments to its author, Mr. Carlo Negulesco. That is obviously his Second Life avatar name but it is the real life man behind that avatar who writes the meditations. Anyway, I’m adding this post just in case anyone doesn’t see the comments.

And while I’m here, I’d like to say a huge thank you to the people behind the avatars I know only as Taun, Mr. Kozlov, and of course Mr. Negulesco himself. While I’m constantly trying to find other people to role-play with, I just keep coming back for more from you three because you are so completely addictive and incredible. Thank you.

Charlotte

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