AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story line is drawn from another I read on the internet. In that story it was prison guards playing hangman with a prisoner and the prisoner was not only the guessing the letters but was the hangman suffering the consequences. This story is based off another use of the word game hangman and is a based on the popular long running game show. This story is purely fiction including the characters and any resemblance to any real person is coincidental. ...
“CRACK!” The whip lands again on my back, sending another sharp spear of pain into my gut, and with it another wave of agonizing, unful- filled desire crashed through me. “Please Master…Yes, I want it, I want it now!” I moan through clenched teeth. He steps around in front of me, smiling in mock surprise. “My, what a lusty wench! And you’ve finally admitted it! Well *now* you’ll just have to wait. I’m having fun doing just what I’m doing.” And with that he disappears again behind me, and I felt the whip descend once more, between my shoulder blades, with a thwack and a burn. With the rhythm of the whip, I slip into a delirium of pain and lust. And lost in the rhythm, I find my mind wandering through the events that had led me to this delicious and frustrating predicament. ...
She was sprawled naked on her bed, savoring the after-glow of her Master’s ‘good morning’ fuck. He had just left her, disappearing into his lab, telling her that he had to get his birthday surprise ready for her. She was breath-takingly beautiful, with wide blue eyes, a small, slim nose and a wide, full-lipped mouth. Her long thick glossy hair flowed over her shoulders and framed her face, hi-lighting her even, regular features. Her shoulders were wide and they needed to be, to support her lush, full 35D breasts, they stood straight out from her chest, sagged not at all and were crowned with plump, cherry red nipples the size of her thumb. ...
Susan sat in her cell wondering what was next. Tomorrow would be the four-week anniversary of her being sold by her government to this group of colonists. Laws that allowed them to put her to death for their violations unless she voluntarily agreed to be sold had trapped her. Surprise, surprise, she agreed to live and be sold like produce. Of course she understood how desperate things were on earth. There were so many people on earth they had problems with food and raw materials to meet their needs. And those resources were available thanks to some intrepid souls who were settling other planets. Then they were willing to sell food and raw materials to earth. But to those men, the most desired thing they wanted on their distant planets was a woman, so they used their food supplies to force earth to sell women to them. This then led to laws on earth meant to trap women into voluntarily selling themselves because the alternative would be the death penalty. And Susan had become one of those women. ...
Shane Smallidge was attending Carver College on an academic scholarship in science. He was majoring in animal biology and sometimes student taught for Professor Colton. Most of the classes in the science department were fairly large auditorium-sized, but his favorite class to attend was microbiology. In that class were most of the girls from Gamma House, the hottest sorority on campus. Many a man has tried his hand at dating one of the sisters of Gamma House, but few have come close. Some suspected these girls were all lesbians, but some of the top athletes had been inside and found out otherwise. Shane just loved microbiology, for the class, and for the women that showed up. Professor Colton was usually held up with special projects for the college’s partnership with the city’s businesses, so Shane was left to teach these students. Shane was a graduate student and this class was a sophomore-level class. He taught not only the class, but the lab portions as well. That’s where he really enjoyed his stay. He was able to get close to the women in their study groups and assist them however he could. One particular day he was walking down the hall of the science building’s third floor when he heard a Bunson burner still ignited on one of the lab tables. It was making a greenish liquid boil rapidly. No one was around for this lab station which made him sigh. As lovely as those sorority sisters were, they weren’t too bright in the brain. Carelessness like this caused accidents. Shane shook his head and went over to the mess of liquids and bottles left by the Greek sisters to clean up after them. That proved to be a mistake. Shane was in the path of the explosion that soon followed. The burning flame caused the green liquid to overheat and explode out the stopper. Shane was covered from head to toe in the gooey substance. Luckily he wasn’t cut in the glass shards that flew everywhere. Now he was steaming mad. He had told those girls to shut off their experiments before they left time and time again. He turned and walked to the sink in the lab, but as he got there, he was too short to reach the knobs. His lab coat was like a tent on him as well. “Good Lord,” he said aloud, “I’m shrinking!” ...
Ten o’clock. Night was falling but Carol easily found the usual place and stopped the car, turning off her lights once the post was in view. Calmly she got out of the car, carrying a small ring of keys and placed the ring gently on a hook in the post, careful not to make too much noise although there was nobody else around that she could see; the airport was not far, the freeway was off in the distance and the weekend drag strip was not far from where she stood. Sure enough, there were not very many people out in this part of town at this time of night so she felt it was okay to proceed with her plans as she had twice before. ...
In many ways this was the most interesting execution of all. It was scheduled for four o’clock and was to be the last one for the day. Heather had a cell which was isolated from the others so she didn’t know whether they had been come for or not. Heather was as confused as Susan was as to why she was here. She just knew that one day she and her husband had been arrested and taken to jail. She hadn’t participated in her trial, in fact she wasn’t even aware a trial had taken place until she had been informed of the results. Which were that she and her husband were guilty and had both been sentenced to death. Her husband had been given a lethal injection, she was told and was already dead. After that, she didn’t hear the rest of her sentence; she felt already dead herself. ...
“You’re fired!” Lynn said. You had always admired her perky blonde hair, and her nice shape mostly hidden by a striped blue business suit. Many times you had admired her legs as she walked past, and you’d always loved women with wide hips. But she was always acting superior and smug, and always shoving it in your face that she was your boss Today, after everyone had left for the day, she called you into her office, and dressed you down about your failure to file a report, and as you watched her pouty mouth work and her sexy crossed legs, a very odd image ran across your brain. You always hated the way she looked down on you and in that instant as she fired you, you decided to try. It was the perfect revenge, but could it really work? A smile crossed your lips at the idea. ...
The following is partially a work of fiction and partly true. You can imagine where the line between truth and fiction falls, but you’ll see for yourself that I am not a fiction writer and I am mostly writing from first hand experience. It really started several years ago when I discovered that the tight feeling induced by tights, stockings, leotards, etc. could be really exciting. I’ve experimented with various articles and the opportunities that each presented. Full body unitards, long sleeved and footed, are probably my favorite all around exciting article, but they present problems in making any final contact, usually resulting in the need for immediate cleaning. Although somewhat unsatisfying for a close encounter to my wife, it adds “spice” to an otherwise very straight relationship for variety. ...
The following is partially a work of fiction and partly true. You can imagine where the line between truth and fiction falls, but you’ll see for yourself that I am not a fiction writer and I am mostly writing from first hand experience. It really started several years ago when I discovered that the tight feeling induced by tights, stockings, leotards, etc. could be really exciting. I’ve experimented with various articles and the opportunities that each presented. Full body unitards, long sleeved and footed, are probably my favorite all around exciting article, but they present problems in making any final contact, usually resulting in the need for immediate cleaning. Although somewhat unsatisfying for a close encounter to my wife, it adds “spice” to an otherwise very straight relationship for variety. ...
Hello, Dawn! Thanks for writing back; I’m sorry it took so long to get around to writing you anything. I suppose to start off I’ll tell you about what my mistress did to me last Sunday night. First, though, let me describe last Wednesday night. On that evening, there was a leather swap meet in the city; basically all the leather merchants got together in one place and sold their stuff. The affair was organized by one Mark I. Chester, an incredible erotic photo- grapher; if you ever get the chance to see any of his stuff, go! Bondage and other fun things are often part of his work. He’s been banned by the Helms crowd, so you know he must be worth seeing :-) ...
I love San Francisco! by Anonymous - September 1999 (originally 1996) Names have been changed, but everything here actually happened–just in case anyone out there gets an extra charge from knowing this is nonfiction…. Oh, and why is it more people don’t post about spandex? I personally find it to be a really great invention–it’s an excellent body focuser, and it looks very hot indeed. Hello, Dawn! Thanks for writing back; I’m sorry it took so long to get around to writing you anything. ...
My story is true. I am male and a somewhat public figure. My wife knows about what I do, but she does not approve or participate in any way. It could be worse; she could disapprove outright. However, she tolerates that I do it, as long as she can ignore it. She would rather that I tell her when I do this, rather than hide something from her. I think that she recognizes that at least I am not cheating on her, other than with my alter ego. ...
My story is true. I am male and a somewhat public figure. My wife knows about what I do, but she does not approve or participate in any way. It could be worse; she could disapprove outright. However, she tolerates that I do it, as long as she can ignore it. She would rather that I tell her when I do this, rather than hide something from her. I think that she recognizes that at least I am not cheating on her, other than with my alter ego. ...
A Binding Engagement by Anon MM/m; latex; bond; cons; X P & R were entertaining a new friend, M who had declared himself to love latex in all its forms and to especially love full body suits, hoods, gags and blindfolds. Having no garments of his own at the time M was sharing in R’s collection which fortunately fitted him nicely. After an initial introduction they moved into the bedroom where M was impressed by the big black latex sheet which covered the double bed and the black and white latex pillow cases which respectively covered the two pillows. ...
For Me THE VISUALS: Light glints and shines off tight, shiny latex. The black second skin is stretched taut across thighs and buttocks, breasts and belly, forearms and biceps. Its smooth embrace encases each finger, the neck, cheeks, ears and skull. The marvellous, tight, continuous smoothness is punctuated by small wrinkles at wrist and elbow, neck and knee. My love has been rendered anonymous, mute and alien. The pliant material covers and yields, accommodating itself to her movements. The continuous organic blackness of the costume is broken only by the thin golden shine of a bracelet on the right wrist, the large aquamarine ring around the left ring finger and the incongruous lines and angles of equally black boots that rise from thin, high heels to just below the knee. A splash of red marks lips outlined by the mouth hole of her hood, sparkling dark eyes shine from their openings. Her shiny dark hair glimmers with a faint magenta hue where it spills from the opening in the back of the hood. Light from 63 candles spread around the room (I have had plenty of time to count them) illuminates my love and throws multiple shimmering shadows on the walls, floor and ceiling. ...
The lipstick was the hardest thing to get right; Jane tried to get the mix of cupid’s bow and match for her own lips three times. Finally she was able to stand away from the make-up table and examine herself in a nearby mirror. Her jeans and T shirt, piled on a chair, spoiled the effect, so she hastily shifted them to one side, snagging her pointed artificial nails on the loops in the belt. Finally, she struck a pose, head up, hands on hips, one knee forwards. Smouldering was the right description. ...
Robert was feeling fed up. He’s already had three days of driving around trying to drum up business, With consequently two nights in mediocre hotels, and the only consolation there had been was that he was able to spend both nights totally clothed in his beloved rubber. Even when he had the anxious moment when the chambermaid, the usual elderly female, had brought morning tea which he had not ordered, and he hardly had the time to remove his latex hood before she was shuffling into the room. Now, expecting to return home, he had followed the boss’s standing instructions to telephone back to the office first, only to be told that he must make one further visit, entailing another night’s stay in the unfamiliar town. His map book showed only two hotels here. The receptionist at the first hotel shook her head. ...