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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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

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

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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.

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.


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Whole to Holes

So how am I going to live my new acceptance of life here at the Gentleman’s Retreat? Will it be easy, now that I fully believe everything that Mr. Negulesco and the other gentlemen have been telling me over and over again since I first arrived here? It should be. I mean, if what they say is true – and it is – that I am a worthless slut whose value lies only in being used by a man, then it should all come naturally to me.

But I am still a little confused about something. If my thoughts, feelings, hopes, dreams, and desires don’t matter – and they don’t – I have no motivation to be pleasing. It makes me so happy when someone, especially someone as impressive and hard to please as Mr. Negulesco, is proud of me and thinks that I have done well. But, if my happiness doesn’t matter to him or to anyone – and it doesn’t – then how can I try my best to please?

I’m sure I will learn. I’m very new to the acceptance of all this. I swore for so long that they wouldn’t break me, they wouldn’t win, but now that it’s happened it doesn’t really feel as though I’ve lost and I don’t feel broken. Well, maybe just a little, but I’m sure I’ll feel whole again soon. And when that happens, instead of being the whole me I’ll be three holes of me which is better because it’s more than before. No?

I just need to practice and I’m sure I’ll be given many opportunities for that. It reminds me of the way Mr. Negulesco always concludes his poems: Say it, believe it, live it. Well, the men made me say it over and over again and now that I believe it – and I really do – I must live it.

Talking of the poems, another one was posted today. I won’t make any comments about it because it doesn’t matter what I think; whether I like it or not isn’t important. But I’m including it here for you, my lovely friend, because you might be interested in reading it. Continue reading →

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Displayed & Defeated

Naked woman shibariHe broke me.

Yes, my sweet friend, Mr. Negulesco has finally completely broken me and I am ready to tell you now how he did it.

It happened a few weeks ago, before I got sick and this, along with the other encounter which I have still to tell you about, probably contributed to my falling ill. Once you’ve finished reading them both you will understand why I am so quiet now and why I couldn’t bring myself to talk about these events while I was still recovering from my illness.

I’ll start with Mr. Negulesco because I wrote to you last about Mr. Kozlov and I need a little more time before I can think about him again. Oh please let me meet another man here soon, someone a little kinder. I know that I’ll never meet a wonderful man who will save me and take me away and love me forever but at least please let me be used by a man who isn’t so cruel as these two. Neither men actually physically hurt me this time but the cruelty was sharp, deep, and will be very long lasting.

Okay, here goes.

I was standing in the back room and had decided to walk outside. There was no one around indoors and although I could have happily stayed there I knew I should at least make it look as though I was actively seeking out a man to please. And it was a beautiful day so I thought that a stroll outside would be pleasant.

I heard footsteps behind me but I was already walking out the door so I pretended not to have heard them and sped up my step.

Thud. Continue reading →

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I am a Slut

naked woman tied with rope long hair flowingI think it’s happened. Oh my poor friend, I am trembling as I write this and I can’t believe what I am about to admit:

They have won.

I know I still need to tell you about those two evenings I mentioned last time I wrote and I will soon, I promise. But first I just have to quickly tell you about last night.

I was standing downstairs, staring out the window, wondering if I’d ever be free to walk around outside without the fear of being taken and used at any moment by any man.


A man’s voice startled me and I turned around so quickly I almost fell over. I’m still very weak from my illness and it doesn’t take much to make me feel faint and lose balance. Seeing Mr. Kozlov standing there, staring at me with an impossible-to-read expression, did nothing to calm me or stop the dizziness. Was he angry and planning to punish me for being ill and unavailable for so long? Or was he happy to see me with my shiny brown hair, dyed just as he had instructed? My hand flew up to touch my hair as though to somehow check that the color hadn’t magically disappeared overnight. (Once I’ve told you about the previous encounter with Mr. Kozlov that will make sense; I’m sorry if it’s a bit confusing right now!)

I stood, trembling, leaning against the wall for support.

He didn’t say anything for a moment or two (or perhaps that’s just the way I remember it because it took my poor brain so long to settle down). I remember trying to smile, to greet him, to be polite and to ignore the way my heart was pounding out of control in my chest. He asked how I was feeling and said that he’d heard I’d been ill. I nodded, told him I was much better now, and thanked him for his concern.

“I wasn’t concerned.”

I looked down, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean that I thought you were worried about me because you liked me or anything I was just-”

“When was the last time you were fucked, Clara?” Mr. Kozlov cut me off and made me blush even more than I had been doing just a moment ago. He began to walk slowly towards me, closing the short distance between us and stopping just in front of me. So close I could feel him even before he laid a finger on me. I kept looking down, avoiding the eyes I knew were staring into me.

“I.. it was probably… before I was ill…”

“That’s a long time, isn’t it?”


“We need to change that, don’t we?”


“Beg me.” Continue reading →

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Who am I?

pretty blondeI didn’t know it was possible to get that sick and not die!

I’ve been completely out of it for the past few days, maybe even weeks. I’m not really sure exactly how long I was ill because there are no calendars here. I’d like to think that calling a doctor, being given medicine and somewhere private to rest was proof that Mr. Negulesco does actually care a little about me but I’m sure it’s just because he’d rather I not die. If I die the men can’t use me any more plus he’d have the hassle and expense of removing my body. No, he doesn’t care if I suffer but he’d much rather I suffer at his hands or the hands of the other ‘gentlemen’ than due to an illness that could kill me.

I’m not sure what was wrong with me, the doctor didn’t say, but I threw up a lot and had a very high fever which gave me nightmares even worse than some of my experiences here so you can imagine how bad they must have been. I’m better now although I still feel really weak and need to sleep a lot which, thankfully, I am being allowed to do. Whether by lucky chance or Mr. Negulesco’s orders I will never know.

I have two horrible events to tell you about but I don’t have the energy to do so now. (I’m amazed I made it to my little desk here in this room and that I’m able to sit up without feeling dizzy.) I can’t write about my recent encounters because they are too awful for me to think about right now. I need to be a little stronger before I bring them back to life in my memory. I will just say that recently, along with the fever where I forgot my own name, Mr. Kozlov made me wonder if I’m even human, and Mr. Negulesco made me wish I weren’t.

Sometimes I don’t know who I am anymore and those times are frighteningly becoming more and more frequent.

But I won’t leave you empty-handed, my sweet friend. I’m sure you’re just dying to read the latest notice that Mr. Negulesco has pinned on the notice board! Okay then, so as not to disappoint my best friend, here below, in all its happy-optomistic-wonderful-shiny-lovliness is the latest poem: Continue reading →

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Sexy lipsA frightening thought occurred to me: the surveillance cameras. What if Mr. Negulesco – or any of the men in fact – have seen the recordings from the evening I spent sitting at Najda’s feet?

Oh, I know I wasn’t really doing anything very bad but just the fact that I was lounging around chatting with a girl rather than actively looking for one of the Gentlemen to please could get me into deep trouble. And of course what Najda was doing was even worse because she was sitting in one of the armchairs and I’d hate to think that she could be punished for it. She was so nice to me!

Although perhaps she’ll be okay. I’m still rather confused about her status; maybe she’s not one of the women here who must look after the men’s needs. You know, like the lovely Spirit. Do you remember her? She’s Mr. Negulesco’s lady and although she is a woman, I very, very much doubt she has to be available to all the men at the Retreat and in fact I have never seen her kiss or be touched by anyone other than Mr. Negulesco. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her at all in ages. I hope she’s okay. She may not be as sympathetic to me as I had hoped when I met her, but I do think she’s a nice girl and I want her to be happy. Perhaps she is also one of the reasons I can never quite hate Mr. Negulesco the way I hate the cruel men such as Mr. Kozlov and Tyr. Spirit seems so in love with her man and so fulfilled and happy in their relationship that I can’t imagine he is as awful to her as he has sometimes been to me and therefore I think that he can’t be quite as bad as I sometimes feel he is.

Do you see what I’m saying? I’m sorry if I’m not being very clear; my head is a mess with all the worry but let me try and explain: Mr. Negulesco must love Spirit dearly, at least he seems to, but I have a hard time imagining anyone being in love with Tyr, for example, unless she enjoys having her mouth and throat used so roughly she can’t swallow without pain for days afterwards. I can actually imagine a woman falling for Mr. Kozlov. He is very, very good looking and his eyes are so incredibly attractive, were he a kinder, gentler man I could easily fall for him. But he’s not. He’s a monster and any girl who fell for him would have to be absolutely crazy! Continue reading →

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