We are now in Summer, the Solstice has passed, and the rain is spoiling the rose garden. In the lounge, browsing the book shelves, I think of the day when Helena first came to my house. Helena… The thought of my beautiful and devoted novice fills me with pride. I recall the day of her collaring, when she and her sister Lucy became mine.

I have to start planning the precise layout of the party. We shall celebrate Lucy’s and Helena’s coming of age in splendour. I have invited thirty one Mistresses and their favourite subs, in total over one hundred guests. From experience, I expect eighty percent of the invited dommes to turn up, a few apologising for ill health, or simply fear of not being seen at their best. My parties are well sought after, and equally well remembered.

I look forward to seeing again some far away friends, exceptional beings, who share my tastes for beautiful and obedient subs and who make this community so alive and exciting. We meet only in those special occasions, when one of us has someone to celebrate: a new sub, a freshly minted slave, more rarely a wedding.

This time I have a special interest in one guest: a very tall and handsome domme, and old friend of mine, nicknamed the Ghoul, by uncharitable or envious rivals. Her official name is Mistress V. She’s written to me by return on receiving my invitation. She lives in Canada and we meet rarely, but always memorably. My friend is indeed special: she’s a very beautiful and attractive hermaphrodite. She will join us with her two most senior slaves: an albinos eunuch, named Roland, and an extremely rare specimen,  a blue-eyed, superb black female sub, named Melody. Both are exquisite acrobats…

Since this story is a shade outside the scope of this gentle blog, it continues where you, discerning readers, know where to find it… Enjoy!

#FiveSentenceFiction: Medicine

 Back at her place Helena felt drained and lifeless: meeting Mistress G had been a challenge, and she was not sure she’d achieved what she wanted, win her Mistress’s trust.

It was hard for her to balance charm and submission, she was afraid of appearing to flirt, to attempt to seduce, instead of what she wanted, learn, mortify herself, seek humiliation without being degraded.

She knew the older woman would see through her, and despite the evident interest she had for her, would not forgive hypocrisy, nor false pretence.

Then she had to tell Sarah about her day – and night – at Mistress’s house: her partner was immensely tolerant, but equally would not take half truths for granted.

She walked slowly to the bathroom cabinet: there was solace for her tortured soul, and, hesitating a little, she picked up the small box that contained sleep for at least six hours, by then Sarah would be back, and she would be safe again, in the embrace of her lover.