I got a brief glimpse of two matching heads of wild blonde hair and loosely similar features before he bustled me past them and into the dark beyond. “And you told me I was wasting my money, but I was right. You said I was wasting my money buying a set of double stocks and that I would never get them filled, but there you see it. A babe in both sets of stocks. You owe me the bet my friend.” ...
“And this way we have our wall of debt” I looked at the owner of the fetish club with a blank look on my face. I was writing this piece for my magazine about the fetish nightclub scene and had secured myself an invitation and tour to the town’s best known venue. Well, I say best known. In fairness it was best known to those who enjoyed its very specific services and tastes. I did not know such places actually existed outside of fiction, but here I was getting the tour. And what an eye-opener it was. ...
It was all part of the deal I had with her. Or what remained of her. I got the handsome men into her room, into her bed, then made them horny as hell, leaving the rest to her. What did I get out of the deal? Well, let us just say, a certain satisfaction and the occasional physical favour that a girl just could not bear to turn down. He was lying in the bed, watching my back as if hypnotised. I was wearing my tightest little black skirt, sheer black tights and patent black heels that made my legs look incredible. They were good anyway, but in those heels they could stop traffic. I had opened a couple of the top buttons of my crisp white blouse so every time I breathed deeply my breasts heaved in a manner calculated to reduce any man (and quite a few women in my experience) to tears. ...
I had felt myself flushing the first time I saw the testing machine in the basement. Thankfully no-one noticed my response, but since I saw it, I had been making plans for the testing machine. We (the Royal We, our company) made carpets and rugs. And deep in the basement was the testing department. One of the machines in the testing department was guaranteed to make every submissive go weak at the knees. ...
4: And Granny Makes Five I knocked on the front door of my lover’s house without any specific thoughts in my head beyond the usual carnal desires, and was not surprised when one of her daughters answered the door to me. It was the daughter who looked most like her mother, my lover. Where my lover’s wild mass of hair had aged to a glorious iron grey, the daughter’s still retained the bewitching darkness that had been her mother’s in years gone by. Both shared the family trait of commanding pale grey eyes that bored through to my soul and made me both weak at the knees and hard at the groin. ...
OK, I admit, it, it is all my fault. I got myself into this situation and it has all gotten rather out of hand. Gloriously so I admit, but still out of hand. It seemed like such a good idea at the time. She was quite the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Barely four foot six in her flat shoes she was straight out of an Indian picture book. Lovely tanned skin, huge brown eyes and a wide mouth that always seemed to be smiling at me. Thick black hair that fell all the way to the upper slopes of her tight little buttocks, and a waist that was so tiny it looked as if it had been squeezed by giant hands. And where those mystic hands had been squeezing the surplus material had moved upwards to equip her with generous breasts and down to form womanly hips just made for handling. ...
“Well well, what have we here ?” The broad Afro-Caribbean accent brought me sharply awake and I sprang off the bed. Well, more accurately I tried to spring off the bed. Memory darted back out from under the rock where it had been sleeping and everything came back to me. I was visited by a fleeting memory of my girlfriend’s glorious arse and swaying bright red ponytail wriggling out of the door of our hotel room above her magnificent and very tanned legs revealed by her denim hotpants. Oh shit, I was in trouble now. ...
3: Together The figure standing before us was a thing of beauty. The daughter of my lover, her mother, had come into the room where we were reclining in the king sized bed, with some fine ideas of our own. Her hair was dark and wild, her flesh gloriously soft and milky and she shared the pale grey eyes of her mother, my lover. She wore her favourite costume, a skimpy romper suit of thin black silk with soft lace trim. Legs were sheathed in black stockings and she had donned a pair of her mother’s black thigh boots. The soft suede ones with the towering heels and shiny platforms. In her hand she held a riding crop and a dangling pair of collars and leashes that I guess she had also raided from her mother’s toy box. ...
2: My Turn The bed was creaking fit to bust when I arrived. The daughter had been in a rush to get out of the house when I arrived and I was directed to the bedroom of her mother, my lover. Strictly the daughter was my lover too, but I was not sure if our one frantic interaction, into which I had no input, counted so I left that thought where it was for later examination. Sadly Sister Two had failed to show on that remarkable afternoon but I still had high hope for another day. ...
“It’s that Halloween time of the year Annette, so you had best get all the spooky stuff and dressing up nonsense out of the cupboard. It is all in the one out the back” I nodded to the shop’s sole salaried member of staff and turned to go, but she had more to stay. “You would not believe how much we get donated through the year, I don’t think it has even all been unpacked. We just go and have a rummage round if anyone asks.” ...
“Oh come on, what more could you want?” “Mum, this isn’t what I had in mind, not that I’m not grateful, but he’s yours, are you sure you want to share?” I am in this conversation, but my participation is limited. Well, strictly speaking I am part of this conversation rather than actually taking part in it. You see I am down here in the bed. Well, once again strictly speaking, on the bed. ...
Those simple words led me down the deepest erotic chasm you can imagine. They were spoken so innocently and light heartedly to who I hoped was going to be my latest girlfriend. She was such a tiny thing with long dark hair pulled back into a severe ponytail that hung well below her shoulder blades. She was almost toylike in her daintiness, barely coming up to my shoulder yet so perfectly formed she made me both weak at the knees and hard at the groin. ...
story continued from part three Part 4: Aftermath I slammed the door of my battered old Land Rover and looked up at the rambling farmhouse. I had been here many times before, but the sheer size of the place still held me in awe. Even with the horsebox attached my rig took up practically no space on the gravel apron. As I stood in awe the front door opened and a curvy figure with long thick hair worn in a high pony tail came bounding towards me. Her name was Emma, and she ran this incredible place. When they said farmers had to diversify, I am sure they had not thought of anything quite like the place Emma had turned her old family farm into. But a success, oh yes, it was a success. ...
story continued from part two Part 3: The Pony Girls Play Some More “You should try it on” I physically jumped at the unexpected voice. I turned round to see Elizabeth standing in the half-open doorway to my office. A doorway I should have latched securely rather than just closing it. I was holding the heavyweight leather harness that she had seen in use at least twice. On both occasions it had been wrapped and buckled tightly about my muscular lover. Or rather he had been tightly wrapped and buckled into it. It was never intended to be a simple toy. Once inside it and all those gleaming buckles and dark leather straps were fastened you were it’s prisoner until such time as you were released. I was very firmly the dominant in our relationship, but something about it spoke to a deep, submissive side of me that I hated to admit existed. Yes, damn my soul, as it hung there wafting the smell of fresh leather to my nose I was getting turned on. As I held it up the straps were curving themselves towards me as if both inviting me while reaching out to entrap me. ...
story continued from part one Part 2: The Pony Girls Strike Again She caught up with me in an unguarded moment while I was lost in thought. I was looking at her stallion. Her real stallion. A huge, dark brown beast of a horse standing quietly in his stall. He was harnessed in a specially made dark leather harness of especially sturdy straps to tame the wilful beast. A sturdy leather harness that made me go weak at the knees. Straps thicker and stronger than she needed for any of her other horses because he was a strong beast and given to be uncontrollable. ...
Once the collar is fastened around their neck there is no going back. Ask any dominant or submissive and they will tell you this is true. There is just something about having a collar fastened snug about your neck that means there is no going back. And young George has just had a nice thick collar fastened about his throat and I can already sense the effect it is having on him. I can hear his breathing getting deeper and I can feel the heat of arousal radiating from his naked body. ...
(story continues from The Friend 2) Part 3: In the Hands of Heather Heather has hold of the end of my leash and she is leading to along as naturally as if she had a dog to heel. The leash is part heavy chain and is the most subtly evil leash I have ever had a pleasure to wear. My girlfriend has leashed me many times over the years as part of our kinky games, both to a collar and to a wickedly constructed body harness she found online at some website I never manged to locate. But this one is evil beyond belief. As to what Heather had done with my girlfriend I could only guess. We had both been passed into slavery by her friend and who knew what future we had before us out here in this countryside retreat. ...
She walked into the office where I work, into my life and into my heart. Well, into my heart and all sort of places that lurked lower down and that are filled with all my baser desires. She swayed through the door and my throat went dry. Her hair was blonde and cropped close, her eyes blue and shining as they swept the room. She was wearing a long mack and even from the distance I could see magnificent breasts making the buttons struggle for survival. ...
(story continues from In the Land of the Dolls 4: Out in the Garden) Part 5: And Then There Were Three The sun beat down on our bare flesh and we were both gaining a glorious tan at odds with our bright red hair and steely blue eyes. Bright red hair that was growing long and thick in a way it seldom did back home. Home, ah what a delightful thought that was. And then, some days, only a distant memory to which I had no wish to return. ...
Part 1: There has been a mistake here. “Look, there has clearly been a mistake here” “Madame, allow me to assure you that you are mistaken. Your order has been processed exactly as you placed it. I have it on the computer in front of me” “And I assure you that this is not what I ordered” “Madame, I have to tell you that you have received exactly what you ordered. 1 large size child’s doll. Snow White type. And that is all you will be charged for” ...
(story continues from The Friend) Part 2: The Friend Plays Again If my girlfriend ever found out there would be trouble. Probably some big trouble, but what can I say in my defence other than that I am weak. Her ‘friend’ joined in our games a few weeks ago, a blue-eyed curvy temptress from somewhere in the old Eastern Europe who had delighted in our games and brought to them a whole new dimension. And when my auburn-haired lady friend was away, her friend and I had started to play together. ...
(story continues from The Toy Store 5: The Girls play in the Nursery)_ _continued from part 5 Part 6: Liquidation Sale “Disposable incomes are just not what they used to be I am afraid” she said as she led me inside “So the whole stock, fixtures and fittings has had to be put on the market to meet the creditors” The discreet door swung closed behind us and I followed a lithe arse in tight lycra trousers down a hallway into a reception room. Once it had bustled, but now there was no-one behind the plush desk, and the solid looking doors were all firmly closed. ...
It was a new harness. All broad straps of brown leather with heavy steel buckles. I almost purred as I allowed her to strap it about me. First the collar snug about my throat, then the mass of soft straps that unrolled down about my naked body from that collar. I felt myself shiver as they almost caressed me, curling about my body as their designer had no doubt intended. ...
“Go on, it’s what you have always wanted” He looked at me and licked his lips nervously, then turned his face back towards the fate I had laid out for him. Straight from his darkest, deepest fantasies. Four stakes driven deep into the ground, and a length of rope tightly tied to each one. The stakes were driven into the ground in a wide square that could have only one purpose, and he knew exactly what it was. ...
It had looked so simple when she had lifted it from it’s wrappings. In fact, my first thought was one of disappointment at it’s simplicity. Nothing like as cunning and utterly implacable as some of our other toys. My wild lesbian mistress had me dress carefully for what she described as ‘my ordeal’. I clinched my already slender waist in tight with a basque she had bought for me years ago. I knew it turned her on terribly and the desire to ensure I would always be able to fit inside it’s steel boned sides had kept me trim and lean as the time passed. If she ever found I could no longer clinch it about me I dared not think what punishment would be my lot until I could again fit within it’s tight restraint. ...
It was still there in the morning when I went back. A quartet of stout tree branches lying on the ground. Just as I had found them yesterday. Shorn of their smaller branches and foliage they had been lashed into a square with dark rope ties at the corners where they crossed. The strange square had been left lying on the ground, and it lit a fire under my frustrated bondage ridden soul. It looked as if it had been made for me. ...
(story continues from The Farm 3: Revolution on the Farm) The Farm 4: Livestock I purchased this pair from Her Ladyships farm next door. She had some sort of going out of business sale and had to liquidate all of her, shall we say ‘specialist’ livestock, and I bought this handsome beast. Or pair of beasts. It is sort of hard to be sure how I should describe it. But it or they are a beast to behold and a worthy addition to my little collection. ...
(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 9: Escape) Chapter 10: Epilogue I parted the branches carefully and looked out at the cleared yard behind the house. A house made of bricks. There was a wooden veranda, assorted strange furniture and fittings scattered about the yard and a large kennel. I had found the place. Now, I happily admit I hated him at times, but Big Bad Wolf has been good to and with me, and when I heard what Galinda the Good Witch of the East had done to him I wanted my revenge. It was just plain unfair, and I have a terrible sense of fairness. ...
As they turned back and forth every curve of their toned bodies reflected the light differently. One moment a sensuous curve was outlined with a bright reflection, the next it was plunged into deep shadow. There are two of them. One is named Anna, the other Barbara, but I could not tell one from the other at the moment. Both were sheathed from the tops of their snug fitting spike heeled suede boots to the crown of their heads in gleaming black lycra. Damn near every inch of their usually healthy looking flesh was covered by their skintight bodysuits. ...
Normally I scoff at anything that has the word ‘Magic’ attached to it, but the word of friends and others had led me to the door of a dusty little shop in a dark back street of the town I really don’t want to tell you about. And when I left I had in my pocket a small brown bottle with a wooden stopper and a wallet far emptier than it had been when I went in. ...
Normally I scoff at anything that has the word ‘Magic’ attached to it, but the word of friends and others had led me to the door of a dusty little shop in a dark back street of the town I really don’t want to tell you about. And when I left I had in my pocket a small brown bottle with a wooden stopper and a wallet far emptier than it had been when I went in. ...
“You are serious ?” “Of course I am” I turned the slithery black mass of the costume over in my hands and it seemed to flow from hand to hand as if faintly alive. It felt warm to my touch. “You’ll look fabulous” he said, “Absolutely incredible in that” I could feel myself frowning but I knew I had nothing to lose by at least trying it on. After all, what was the worse thing that could happen ? I’d hate the look of it, rip it off, offend my lover and we might never speak again. No big loss then really. ...
“You are serious ?” “Of course I am” I turned the slithery black mass of the costume over in my hands and it seemed to flow from hand to hand as if faintly alive. It felt warm to my touch. “You’ll look fabulous” he said, “Absolutely incredible in that” I could feel myself frowning but I knew I had nothing to lose by at least trying it on. After all, what was the worse thing that could happen ? I’d hate the look of it, rip it off, offend my lover and we might never speak again. No big loss then really. ...
We were all watching her as she went into the tack room. Waiting to see if she took the bait. Suzy Sue, our lovely leggy instructress. Our equestrienne goddess. We had deliberately left the tack room untidy, and amongst the disorder we had left the bait for our trap. Instead of the shouts and bellowing cries for recrimination we had half expected there was only silence. And silence was good for our plan. Very good indeed. ...
I was watching the scene on the CCTV, watching my lovely young Au Pair Julia. Fresh from Germany she was a delightful little thing. Slim, lean and blonde like every young German girl should be. An animal lover, a gentle soul and right now she was having a wild old time with my dogs. I like my dogs, and I like them big. Max and Marcus were part fox hound and part black Mastiff. Big, broad and amenable beasts they loved being around people, and Julia appeared to love being around them. Right down they are all three soaked to the skin down by the milking shed. Julia has the hose out and what started as a session washing my lovable duo and her in her skimpy bikini has ended in a mutual soaking on the flagstones. Julia has her arms about Max’s head and is giving him a big hug. She really shouldn’t be down on her knees like that with them. It makes them harder to control if you do not take a firm hand with them. ...
I was muttering under my breath as I shoved the door open with my backside. It was an easy door to open, and it had to be as my arms were full of cleaning equipment. Equipment I allowed to crash on to the floor with a degree of satisfaction before looking around the room. I was supposed to be getting some help with this kennel cleaning job, but my volunteer companion appeared to have, to use the technical term, scarpered. Probably outside making pretty blue goo-goo eyes at the kennel owner in the hope she would be taken off any rotas with the words cleaning on them. ...
That crackling sound is starting to get to me now. I know she cannot help it, but it is seriously starting to get on my nerves. The source of that terrible sound is in front of me on a table. A sturdy table with a sole occupant who has very little choice in the matter. Every tiny movement she makes is accompanied by a faint crackling sound, and no matter how hard she tries she is quite unable to stay still. And I cannot really blame her. If it was me on that table I doubt I would be able to keep still either. ...
It’s not a nice feeling to realise that you haven’t got arms or legs anymore, but it’s a feeling I have just discovered and I do not like it one little bit. And the reasons for my torment are standing over me with cruel smiles on their lips. I’m a big girl. I stand over six feet tall and I work out, and these two cannot stand taller than four foot six, but they have taken control of me. It all started as a game, a silly little game really. A game I entered it with my eyes wide open and now things have got out of hand. ...
You have all read about genetically modified plants in the press. Some say they are a terrible evil that will no doubt destroy the world while others think they will be the saviour of the human race. Me, I tend to go with the former idea right now as my current situation is giving me a very unique perspective on the subject. My name is, well, I guess my name does not matter right now. I am quite, quite naked and I guess I must be burning quite nicely out here in the hot sunshine. I would have liked to have crawled into the shade some time ago, but unfortunately my ankles are tied tightly to two stakes which keep me very firmly here. Those same stakes also keep my ankles rather widely spread where I would like to pull them tightly together. Very tightly together in fact. ...
The slide had looked so inviting. We had been dragged round the garden centre in the faint hope of doing some last-minute shopping and we were bored. Really bored. And after we had killed about an hour while the others had vanished into the darker realms of the tools section we were wandering around outside. Mum and I just are not gardeners by nature and we were finding the whole day as dreary as could be. We had used up our browsing limit in the rather thinly stocked gifts section, had drunk a cup of coffee and now we were outside looking at the children’s play area. Somewhere over to the left they were selling off pine trees and someone was hawking roasted chestnuts. Chestnuts, I ask you. Were we in the 21st century or the 19th ?. ...
(story continues from My Tormentrix) Part 2: The Tormentrix Returns The cuffs about my wrists and ankles are all lovingly padded to prevent me getting hurt in any way, but all the muscles in my arms and legs are screaming at me. You see, she has strung me up tight between two columns of concrete with tight chains and leather cuffs. I didn’t like to ask why the columns has useful little eyebolts cemented into them but she has made full use of them. I am spread-eagled as tight as my body will permit between those two columns, my arms and legs dragged out to full stretch. The balls of my feet are perched precariously on the floor, but if I did lose my footing I don’t think I could fall. I am stretched out that tight. ...
A Halloween Special 2010 Tale “Look, it’s just what they say, OK ?” “One goes in so another can come out” “That’s right. They say it’s so the house always has someone to play with” “Play with. Right” I was not impressed “My sister has gone off for a wander, and you are wasting my time telling me urban myths. I don’t have time for this !” The last sentence was a shout. ...
“It must have cost James an absolute fortune to set this gig up” Louise said “This place is huge” “I heard” I said, leaning towards Louise for emphasis “That it cost more to clean the place up than anything else. The owners were only too glad to have it made use of” Louise shrugged and took a sip of her drink. Maybe I was right, but as it didn’t directly effect her, the fact past her ears by as if it had never been uttered. Then James himself came drifting past them, basking in the glory of a successfully arranged party of such vast proportions. Louise grabbed his arm as he passed them by, and as he came to a halt he favoured us both with a dazzling smile. ...
The door was firmly closed, and there was even a sign hung on it telling everyone to ‘KEEP OUT’ in big letters. But I was bored. Stately homes always bored me, and I had slipped away from our tour group to have a look round on my own. After all, it’s not like I hadn’t paid to see around the place, and there was nothing in my ticket that said I had to stay with the tour. ...
“Please mistress, please, no, not today, I can’t face a walk, not today” I was pleading, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. Mistress has made up her mind, and once made up, there is very little that will change it. Least of all the pleadings of her poor naked slave. “Oh come come my dear” she purred “You know how you so love the fresh air, and Bruno will so be looking forwards to seeing you, won’t he ?” ...
(story continues from My Daughter & I Part 10: Hunted)_ Part 11: At the Asylum _Emma has started to scream now. And it’s not making the slightest difference to the two rather attractive nurses who are hustling her away down that gleaming white corridor. She’s fighting them all the way of course, but her actions are rather limited at the moment. You see, this is my revenge for what she did to me and my boyfriend (Check out part 10 of my rambling tales if you want the full details), and I had been watching from a secret little booth as those two sexy nurses came to her bedside and had their wicked way with her. ...
“Hey, come quick everybody, Emily’s got herself trapped on the dog rack!” Oh, so that’s what it’s called. A dog rack. I’m still no nearer to knowing quite what it’s for, and with a name like that I don’t think I want to know. What I do know is that it’s got a hold of me and I can’t get loose. And being discovered like this is about the worst thing I can imagine happening.. ...
If I don’t get out of here soon, she will find me here. Yes, I know it’s all my own fault, I shouldn’t have done it, but I did OK? And now I can’t get out again. And soon she will be doing her rounds and she will find me here, and while that’s a fantasy I might enjoy in private, I really don’t fancy it in reality. It all started when we took a holiday down on the farm. This farm here as a matter of fact. A proper working farm, complete with animals, arable crops, manure spreading the lot. And when we arrived I first set my eyes on the lovely Celia. Tall, strapping Celia. With the mass of curly dark hair and a figure made hard and lithe by endless hours working the land. I guess there must have been other people about, but it was Celia I always noticed. Celia in the skintight jeans, jeans that squeezed an arse so tight and muscular it made my manhood hard and my palms sweaty. ...
My name is Maxine. Or I think it is. Or rather was. It’s been so long since anyone called me by my name it can be hard to remember. Now they call me left number four. Sometimes ‘that dark haired bitch’, or with really common customers, ‘that one there’. Once I had lovely dark hair, all styled in the latest fashions, but that was a long time ago. It feels like months since I was allowed a haircut, and if I could stand upright it would hang past my arse. Stand upright ? A chance would be a fine thing. Let me tell, if you think leather harnesses, rope and chain are the ultimate form of bondage, you should try bricks and mortar. Yes, that’s right, bricks and mortar. ...
Twas a night after Christmas and something was moving, and it wasn’t a mouse. Katharine rolled over bed and pulled the sheets about herself, her long dark hair falling over her shoulder in a solid curtain. She luxuriated in the warmth for a moment, murmuring quietly to herself as she rose slowly from the depths of sleep to waking. Opening a lazy eye she saw something on the bed that she was sure had not been there when she had gone to sleep. ...
“Can one of you give me a hand please, I seem to be having some trouble with the lacing” Fateful words that would lead to my ultimate downfall. My name is Maxine, or Max to my friends, and I work in the local college. Well, I call it a craft college, but I think the term is something like Vocational Skills Centre. You know the sort of place, hard academic subjects are replaced by more practical subjects for those who prefer them. So alongside the more usual classrooms we have a woodwork shop, a craft shop, dressmaking rooms and even a distant leatherworking shop that sees very little use these days. Or so I thought. ...
Jenny would like to go home now. Really, she would. Away from the hungry stares of the group of lesbians who are regarding her as if she is theirs to do with as they please. Their prey. Party animal Jenny. Jenny who allowed a few drinks too many to get her up on stage among all the other dancers. First on the table, then gyrating against a tall steel pole, then finally down amongst the audience in a tall metal cage. Flashing stocking-tops under a flared miniskirt, slip-clopping her fashionable high-heels to the beat of the music and the cat-calls of the crowd. Now she was still in the cage, only the curtains had long since closed about the cages and the stage leaving her in sultry darkness. ...
Max’s pet shop was a large establishment on the high street. And being the typical pet-loving girl I went there for a job. Always one to give a girl a job was Max. Well known for it in fact. Not that they stayed with him for long. Always moving on to better things he said, so there was always a space for a new girl. Part-time, weekends, even the odd evening if you wanted. Anything to make your pay up to a sensible level so you could have a good time. ...
Max’s pet shop was a large establishment on the high street. And being the typical pet-loving girl I went there for a job. Always one to give a girl a job was Max. Well known for it in fact. Not that they stayed with him for long. Always moving on to better things he said, so there was always a space for a new girl. Part-time, weekends, even the odd evening if you wanted. Anything to make your pay up to a sensible level so you could have a good time. ...
Ok, I’m in trouble. Well, not right now. Right now I’m nice and warm, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen soon. You see, I’m in a dog basket. A nice big, well padded dog basket. And I can’t say it’s exactly uncomfortable. At least, not yet. But I’d better not get ahead of myself. You see it’s not as if I mind being here. In fact I was rather enjoying at it start with. ...
Part 2 My boyfriend is starting to buck under me, but he’s going nowhere. You see I’m not as slim as I used to be, and all those delightful curves that he worships so much can keep him quite mercilessly pinned when I use them right. And today I am using exactly right. One knee is firmly planted wither side of his head, and my thighs have his face in a firm yet tantalizingly yielding grip. And he knows that if he wants to avoid a thorough whipping afterwards he will keep his tongue working energetically down below until I get my reward in the shape of a delightfully heavy orgasm. And if I am feeling really mean, I might make him stay there until number two washes over me, by which time he will be hot, sweaty, and ready for a nice long shower. One that I will be only too happy to join him under and soap his back for his troubles. And a few other choice places as well. ...
Part 1 I don’t believe what I’m seeing. OK, so I do believe it, I just didn’t expect it. My daughter just made my boyfriend scream. Well, it was rather more of a wail I suppose. And while I know exactly what she can be like with her boyfriends, I just didn’t think I’d ever see her practising her skills on my boyfriend. Especially with my blessing. You see, she wandered in when I was least expecting her, and she found my boyfriend and I engaged in our usual fun and games. I am what you might politely call a well endowed lady. But I’m not as young as I was and now there are a few curves in places no longer considered fashionable. But my boyfriend worships those curves, and I know how to dress to make the best of them. Like the well boned basque I am wearing right now. All black satin and tight suspenders over high heels that make me look like a goddess. Or rather, my boyfriend thinks I look like a goddess. ...
Part 1: There has been a mistake here. “Look, there has clearly been a mistake here” “Madame, allow me to assure you that you are mistaken. Your order has been processed exactly as you placed it. I have it on the computer in front of me” “And I assure you that this is not what I ordered” “Madame, I have to tell you that you have received exactly what you ordered. 1 large size child’s doll. Snow White type. And that is all you will be charged for” ...
(story continues from In the Land of the Dolls) Part 2: Making the Bells Ring My arms were still tied behind my back, tight ropes fastened about my wrists, and another loop had been added above my elbows to force my straining arms into a column of knot-muscled agony. There was a tight collar about my throat, and from the three gleaming steel D rings ran long lines of rope that drove me forwards ever forwards to a fate the finer details of which I could only guess at. ...
(story continues from In the Land of the Dolls 2: Making the Bells Ring) Part 3: They Came in the Night They came for me in the night. I had been asleep on my straw covered palette when they came, but even had I been awake and ready for the the result would have been exactly the same. I was awoken by the warm caress of a soft leather collar about my throat, and as my mind darted upwards from the darkness of sleep I could feel other straps uncoiling about my naked body. ...
(story continues from In the Land of the Dolls 3: They Came in the Night) Part 4: Out in the Garden My twin sister and I were curled up together in our stall, The thick straw on the ground insulated us from the cold flags. Our arms curled about each other and our heads so close together our long red hair was mixed together where we lay. Our limbs had grown muscular and tanned under their regime of exercise and sexual torment. A regime that they controlled ruthlessly. The Dolls. ...
(story continues from My Daughter & I Part 9: Gone to the Dogs)_ Part 10: Hunted My daughter has excelled herself this time. We all have an hours head start, but then they will come after us. And according to them they’re not all we have to worry about. These woodlands and fields belong to them, and they have been liberally sprinkled with traps designed to make sure we don’t escape. ...
(story continues from My Daughter & I, Side by Side)_ Part 7: Homecoming If someone does not come home soon, it’s not going to be good for me. Well, that’s not exactly true, but things will not go the way I want them to. And right now the only thing keeping me from my fate is my grip on this rather slender ridge in the floor. And my fingers are starting to ache. Ache really rather badly. And when they fail, there will be no going back. ...
(story continues from My Daughter & I Part 7)_ Part 8: On the Beach My boyfriend is just starting to whimper. I don’t think he quite realized how evil the torment we had devised for him would be. Sure, he had a fairly good idea, but the reality was somehow worse. The sun is now high in the sky and the sand is rather warm. Hot even. Sensible people have retired to the shelter of the shade, but that’s not an option open to him. Not at all. ...
(story continues from My Daughter & I Part 8: On the Beach)_ Part 9: Gone to the Dogs I’ve done some things in my time I can tell you. I’ve been a dirty bitch more than once (In fact a lot more times than once!). But this takes the biscuit. I can honestly say this is the most perverse and submissive things I have ever done. Bar none. And what makes it even more special is that I am sharing it with my boyfriend and nearly consenting daughter. ...
(story continues from My Daughter’s Revenge)_ Part 5 - Raise the Stakes My boyfriend has never felt quite so vulnerable & exposed. Parts of him are quite out of his reach, and despite the fact both his arms and legs are quite free of any restraint, he is powerless to protect his manhood from anything we might like to do to it. It all started quite a few months ago when my adult daughter joined in our wild domme and sub games. A wild young redhead with a figure to die for and ideas even more inventive than my own (Which takes some doing, I can tell you) she has bought an even wilder edge to our perverted little games, and we have loved every minute of it. This time she has excelled even her usual self and rendered my (yes, still very much MY boyfriend. She has her own for more intimate pleasures than I am prepared to tolerate) boyfriend a gibbering wreck. ...
(story continues from My Daughter & I Raise the Stakes)_ Part 6: My Daughter & I, Side by Side Emma has just started to struggle, and she is putting plenty of energy into her actions. But you have left it too late my love, way too late. You went proudly to your fate, and now you are going to pay the price. And unless I can think of something very soon, I am going to be following you. But you can be sure I won’t go as quietly as you have. Well, actually I might. The sheer kinkiness of where you have let them take you does rather appeal to me, and what a pair we would make. Mother and daughter, side by side. ...
Part 3: The Tables Turned “So what is it, exactly?” she asked. “It’s a bit of bondage kit I have been restoring for a friend,” my boyfriend replied as Emma paced around the wooden structure that had clearly once been a barrel. Only now it had been cut down to around half its height and sported ominously padded holes on its front, side and top. Really, Emma should have been able to figure it out. After all, she had seen a fair few things since she joined me and my boyfriend in our B&D games. But there are times when she displays a sense of ignorance that borders on the ridiculous, and after all the things she has done to my boyfriend, she should have been on her guard. But she wasn’t, and soon she would be paying the price. And I was glad I was going to be there to see it. ...
(story continues from My Daughter 3)_ Part 4 - Revenge My boyfriend is pleading with my daughter, and I don’t blame him really. But it is all his fault. He did suggest that it would be a real change in our fun and games if we let Emma be the domme over both of us. Make a change he said, for us not to have to take turns. Let’s both get down our knees he suggested, and let her take charge for a change. And Emma being an adult with a bright and inventive mind jumped at the chance. ...
She is standing over me, smiling down at me. She has me exactly where she wants me, and she knows there is not a damn thing I can do about it. I asked for it, and when she said yes I actually let her do it to me. I can feel my face blushing and my cock getting hard as I remember the feeling of her fastening the cuffs about my wrists. They felt so soft and forgiving when she showed them to me first, allowed me to handle them like a curious child. Allowed me to feel the heft of the gleaming chains attached to them. I even helped her fasten them to the ringbolts in the stable floor before willingly slipping out of my clothes and getting down on my hands and knees. ...
The Farm 1: Afternoon at the Farm I vaulted the wall and dropped into the cover of the high corn. All those long hours in the gym had kept me limber as well and given me a hard body any athlete would have envied. Keeping low I started to press my way through the corn, part of me enjoying the way it brushed roughly against my bare midriff and the long legs that trailed below the hem of my tight denim shorts. But I was on a mission and I could let nothing put me off my goal. ...
(story continues from The Farm 1: Afternoon at the Farm) The Farm 2: Morning at the Farm A alarm clock jangled and I was suddenly awake. For a fleeting moment I thought I was tied, but then I realised that I had sunk into the depths of the thick feather mattress. Pulling myself upright I looked around the room, It was vast and wore a slightly period look. I shook my head to clear it and I dimly recalled eating a meal with ‘Her Ladyship’ in a huge dining room attended by the two beautiful girls her Ladyship had first introduced hitched to her little ponycart. ...
(story continues from The Farm 2: Morning at the Farm) The Farm 3: Revolution on the Farm Her eyes were blue. That lovely bright blue that I just knew only came with red hair. And the fair sprinkling of freckles that were visible through the eye holes in her mask confirmed my suspicions. There was something in lurking behind those eyes that was both reassuring and terrifying. Trapped just as I was in a terrible, inescapable bondage I could read both fear and a fearful arousal in those eyes. She was encased exactly as I was, and with the same lack of hope of escape until someone came to her aid. ...
My bonds were a shade tighter than usual, broad red ribbons had replaced the usual playful soft scarves that made me their prisoner when my girlfriend was in the right mood. That very special sort of mood that went with the all-over skintight lycra catsuit and spike heeled boots. And tonight was one of those special moods. And I am now lying spread-eagled on our vast king size bed, naked as the day as I was born, my wrists and ankles firmly swathed in bright ribbons spreading me tightly on the firm mattress. And she is stalking around the bed looking down at me. Her sparkling brown eyes shining out from behind hood of her gleaming black catsuit. A catsuit that takes away some of the woman I know and replaces it with a wicked dominance that makes us both shiver with pleasure. Only her eyes and mouth remain visible, that and a long ponytail of her auburn hair where she has drawn it up and out of a hole on the crown of the catsuit’s hood. Sprouting up and out of the top of her head before dropping down her back in a curly glorious wave. ...
My boyfriend has bought me to a toy store. OK, so admittedly it’s an adult toy store, but it’s still not what I had in mind for the day. He’s looking at frankly tacky toys and outfits that I wouldn’t be seen dead in. And as for some of the lingerie, it’s in such bad taste that it’s just not true. And as if that isn’t all, he is flirting with the tiny Asian girl behind the counter and lapping up the way she is giggling at his terrible attempts at humour. Oh the shame of it. Then I realised that he was actually talking to me and pointing at a door in the rear wall of the shop. ...
(story continues from The Toy Store)_ _continued from part one Part 2: Back to the Toy Store “Please John, please, no, not again. Can’t we play another game tonight ?” I love it when she starts to plead. And Gillian had just the right tone of voice to make it sound especially exciting. Her voice has a faintly desperate tone to it, yet retains just enough hope to make things worthwhile. Not that there is any hope of her getting me to change my mind, but I like to offer her hope that she might one day. ...
(story continues from The Toy Store 2: Back to the Toy Store)_ _continued from part two Part 3: Over the Jumps My back is starting to ache now. It is joining my shoulders, hips and neck in a symphony of aches and pains that I can do absolutely nothing about. This damn thing across my back is causing them all and no matter what I do I just cannot shake it off. I have tried shaking myself like a demented dog, thrown myself from side to side as far as I can go, yet wide belts strapped tightly about my waist and chest keep it firmly in place. I did try rearing up to shake it off but I soon found a strap ran to the wide collar fastened about my throat which just dragged that against my shoulders which created a whole new set of aches so I was soon settled back down on all fours to await my fate. Quite where I am I have no idea. Or my boyfriend come to that. I recall us sitting down in the adult toyshop he loves so much, I recall looking up in some silly costumes, then it is all a blank until now. I lifted my head again in a vain attempt to look around but a blindfold had made prisoners of my eyes and all I could see was darkness. I could feel the sun was beating down on my pale naked flesh, and every so often a cool breeze stirred the air and made me horny as hell where is caressed my swaying breasts and softly stroked my womanly curves. My neck began to ache again and I allowed my head to drop down between my shoulder blades. My arms were spread wide, and as my fingers shifted I could feel moist grass beneath them. In a desperate attempt to relieve the aches across my shoulders I tried to pull my hands and arms together, but my efforts were swiftly rewarded with the tinkle of chains and a sudden tightness that told me there were leather manacles about my wrists and that they were not going to be meeting anytime soon. I shifted my widely spread legs and soon found they too were tightly tethered. Whoever had staked me out had known what they were doing. Wrists and ankles spread just enough to make the muscles ache, my back parallel with the ground, and something soft and heavy perched across my back which just refused to go away. It wasn’t exactly heavy, but it had a certain presence that I just could not get out of my mind. I had no idea what it was but it had a firm softness and rolling curves that fitted my lovely curves in a firmly sensuous way. I shifted my head again and was reminded of the high collar about my throat. It had been buckled snugly by knowing hands that know just how tightly a collar should be fitted to ensure the collared person could never forget it was there. It exerted a constant, nagging pressure that could never be ignored, never be denied, and was guaranteed to make the victim horny as hell every time they thought about it. My head snapped round as I heard the faint sound of a chain moving over to my right. Was there someone else there ? Staked out in the sun just like me ? I tried to call out but all I could manage was an incoherent gurgle. Call me stupid if you like, but in all my careful exploring of my limited little world I had made no attempt to speak and had somehow ignored the ache in my jaw. Now the fact came thundering down on my consciousness as I tried to bring my lips and mouth together. For a moment I thought I had been fitted with that old stager the ball-gag, but those can be compressed and some speech can be forced past them. But whatever had my mouth filled allowed no movement whatsoever, keeping my teeth rigidly apart. I allowed my tongue to reach forwards, and its very tip encountered a shiny piece of metal. Lifting itself it traced a shape that soon became a circle wedged behind my teeth. It encountered two patches of leather, and my addled mind recognised a pressure against both of my cheeks that told me all I needed to know. My mouth was the prisoner of that most evil and utterly effective of devices, the steel ring gag. I was not going to be calling out to anyone anytime soon. I heard the sound of the chains again and now I was sure someone else was near me. Staked out just like me, or at least chained out somehow in the sunshine. Somewhere in the distance I can hear voices, High, sing-song little voices with that evil asian timbre that I know turns a man’s knees to jelly. And they are coming closer. I can hear the sound of their feet on the ground, and I sense them come to a halt at my side. “You OK down there Miss. Gillian ? Like fresh air and new costume ?” I turned my blind eyes to face them, but I could see them in my mind. Tiny little things they were, yet perfectly formed. All with long black hair and big brown eyes. The fantasy of every man I had ever met, and here again they seemed to have complete control over me. I felt tiny fingers at my neck and the blindfold was slowly peeled away revealing my blue eyes to the world. I looked quickly about and saw grass as far as a high hedge, three pairs of gleaming riding boots to my left, and to my right a sight that filled me with both a wild submissive passion and a terrible horror. She was down on all fours like me, shackled to four implacable eyebolts twisted deep into the turf. Thick leather cuffs enclosed her wrists and ankles, and her eyes were still covered by a thick black blindfold. But now at last I knew the source of my torment. Sitting curved upon the curves of her spine was a thick leather saddle. It had a cunning arrangement of cruppers strapped about her ribs and tight about her waist that kept it from falling off, and I could see the leather harness extended up from the front of the saddle to the tall collar of brown leather that encompassed her neck. There was a harness tight about her face, and as I could see her mouth silently open and drooling I guessed she also had her voice confined by the insidious grasp of a metal ring gag. Where my hair was red and short, hers was dark and thick, falling in rolling waves until it nearly touched the grass. I felt my skin shiver as I now knew how I too must look, and I felt a terrible dampness between my legs as I thought what a spectacle we must have presented to any unseen eyes watching us. “Now Miss. Gillian” the asian said, and I forced my eyes off the other woman as her head turned back and forth as she tried to work out exactly what was going on beyond the dark limits of her own little world. “You want meet my little friends now” I twisted my head and those three pairs of gleaming riding boots came back before my eyes and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. My eyes followed those three pairs of boots upwards, up over fantastically slender legs swathed in skintight riding jodphurs, past the hems of tightly tailored tweed jackets that swelled over trim little breasts and on up over open necked shirts until they stopped at big brown eyes in the shade of riding hard hats over faces of flawless asian skin. God but they were beautiful. The sight of them as they stood there like three identical triplets even turned me on. And they were so tiny. None of them stood about 3ft 6 inches tall. They put me in the mind of tiny, evil little dolls, a through reinforced by the presence of a riding crop in the hand of each one of them. “Now Miss. Gillian” the asian I had seen before in the shop spoke again “It is gymkhana time at the toyshop, and guess what you and your friend going to be doing ?” Before I could complete my gurgled incoherent reply there was a tiny rider on my back and reins were swiftly snapped on to my ring gag. My rider said something in her native tongue I didn’t understand, and when I didn’t react boots heels kicked against my ribs and my reins were sharply tugged. I saw deft fingers dart about my wrists unfastening my shackles from their tethering points and the soft caresses I could feel at my ankles told me I was at last free and able to stretch. And revolt. I tried to rear up and throw off my tiny rider but she was expecting me. I felt her throw forward her weight and dig her knees tightly against my ribs. I squealed through my helplessly open lips as the reins were hauled tight and her weight bought me crashing back down on to my hands and knees. Then the whip slashed savagely across my bare arse and I felt myself move smoothly forward like any other well trained riding beast. I glanced back over my shoulder as I saw my brunette companion try exactly the same thing as I did. Even as she rose up I saw the tiny asian on her back throw herself up on her shoulders and kick back wickedly with her shiny boots. The points of her heels left ugly wheals and I winced as I saw and heard the tip of that whip leave a vivid red mark across her haunches. Then she too started to move off and moments later our eyes met as the horror of our situation settled in. Part of me wondered what she had done to get herself into this situation, then all other thoughts fled my mind as we rounded a thick row of bushes and a cheer went up as we came into view of the tiered grandstands and a hundred people rose to their feet and cheered our arrival. The third asian in the tiny riding gear waved back and forth as we both rode in behind her. And there before us, as the sun beat down on our naked bodies lay a carefully laid out set on carefully scaled down riding jumps. And before my mind could fully comprehend my new situation there were loud cries and the crack of both whip marking both my buttocks and I was lumbering towards the first of the jump at a steady trot. I could feel my rider’s weight perfectly matching my movements as she rode that saddle just like the real thing and I knew I had a long, hard afternoon before me. ...
(story continues from The Toy Store 3: Over the Jumps)_ _continued from part three Part 4: Sitting in the Chair I love it when they realise everything is not quite what they expected. When they realise that they may have gone just a little too far in their requests and that control has slipped just that little bit too far out of their grasp. For Victoria and Arianna it happened when their bodies touched. ...
(story continues from The Toy Store 4: Sitting in the Chair)_ _continued from part 4 Part 5: The Girls play in the Nursery I can feel myself smiling as I feel Arianna gently slipping my clothes off my body. I stand fully 5ft 9 inches tall and I have the figure to match. Toned, shapely, magnificent with a generous chest, tiny waist and rounded hips that make women thoughtful and men breathless. Tiny little Arianna must be having to stretch up tall to undo all the buttons and catches. It’s a shame I cannot see her body stretching about me as she is a delightful little thing with long blonde hair that falls all the way to her trim little waist. ...
Chapter 1: The Delivery. “Come on bitch, don’t dawdle !” That shout bought me back to reality. I had been dosing in the sunlight and my mind had wandered. Rumours had bought me here. Rumours that worried me to my very core and which, if true, meant that I would have to flea my little cottage in the forest. And I didn’t want to have to leave. My Grandmother had left it to me, and the occasional company of a rather handsome woodcutter had made it’s seclusion all the more enjoyable. But word had got round that things were changing, and I just had to know what was really happening here. ...
(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland) Chapter 2: Capture. I sprinted away from Old Mother Hubbard’s place as fast as my legs would carry me. I had to get out of Fairyland fast if I didn’t want to end up like Snow White. Thrown into bondage and sold into slavery by her so called friends the dwarves. The question was, where should I go ? Just to the North was the border into reality, but that was well guarded and hard to get through so I couldn’t go that way. To the East was Fuzzy Romance which turned my stomach but looked like my best hope. The Border to the West was largely unguarded, but no-one was quite sure what lay beyond and I am in no rush to go exploring. So, East it had to be. ...
(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 2: Capture) Chapter 3: Handed to the Wheel. My arms ached. My back ached. Damn it all even my legs ached but there was no respite for us. With every lurch of that cart we were flung from left to right and every stretched sinew screamed its disapproval. We of course had no choice in the matter. Our cries had been silenced by huge ring gags forced behind our teeth by a web of black leather straps that made our voices their prisoner. Wide black leather cuffs encircled our wrists and dragged them high above our heads where they were tied tightly to the crude wooden poles that made up the roof of the Golliwogs crude but utterly effective cage tumbrel. ...
(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 3: Handed to the Wheel) Chapter 4: Snow White Turned. The Evil Queen rose from her throne with a creak of her leather catsuit and stalked around her captive. There was a sneer on her lips as she watched her captive’s head swivelling desperately in a vain attempt to keep her in view. Her whip cracked down and her captive gave a yelp and sprang forwards in her bonds as a red welt rose on the milky white flesh of her buttocks. ...
(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 4: Snow White Turned) Chapter 5: Meanwhile, Elsewhere in the Forest… Big Bad Wolf rose from the lake and snarled at the sky as he felt the warm sunshine on his wet fur. He shook himself from head to toe as he walked out of the warm water and agreed with himself that life felt good. He inhaled deeply, filling his broad chest and roared at the day in a sheer joy of being alive. Glancing about to check he had emerged from the lake at the right point he set off through the forest toward his house and a welcoming breakfast. ...
(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 5: Meanwhile, Elsewhere in the Forest…) Chapter 6: A Tour of the Cellars I lent back against the stone wall and heard myself sigh. My left hand moved unconsciously and stroked Bo Peep’s blonde curls. She made a little sound of contentment and her head moved softly on my lap. I wondered what had become of Snow White. We had all been dragged into the castle together but where we had been confined in our dungeon cell she had been dragged screaming away by a duo of the huge hairy beastmen the Evil Queen used to keep order about her kingdom. ...
(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 6: A Tour of the Cellars) Chapter 7: Red Riding Hood’s Fate The moment the door crashed closed behind me the heat and humidity hit me so hard it was almost a physical sensation. Dragged away from the squealing Bo Peep in the tormented mechanical embrace of that evil machine my clothes and collar had melted away before the crackling magics of the Evil Queen and now I stood naked beyond a heavy iron-studded door. I felt and heard the bolts being shot home as I stood there with my shoulder blades pressed against the rough woodwork. ...
(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 7: Red Riding Hood’s Fate) Chapter 8: Revelation So, at last I had the full set. All of the bitches were mine to do with as I pleased. As the three of them wiggled down the corridor before me I felt my heart singing as I was as last able to put my plan into operation. The bitch who was once been Snow White was leading the other two on their leashes. I had guessed she would be the turncoat of the group. And she was so easy to turn. All those frustrated years living untouched in the middle of the forest with those randy little dwarves and their broadcast hormones she just couldn’t cope with all the pleasures I gave her, then took away again. Little slut. And now look at her. Long black boots, tight leather hot pants and a matching top that makes her look the ultimate dominant slut. Which she is I guess. Well, after me of course. And all it takes to keep her in line is free access to the toys in the castle cellars and a few willing volunteers. Ok, maybe the volunteers are not always so willing, but she has such a persuasive nature. Especially when she has a whip in her hand. ...
(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 8: Revelation) Chapter 9: Escape I hauled my head up off the floor and the world swam about me. I gave my head a shake and fought down a wave of nausea. Every limb ached and my brain felt like it was trying to escape through my ears. I forced my eyes open and the bright sunlight was almost painful. I lifted myself from where I lay on the floor and looked about. I could see the Evil Queen lying prone on the mattress that made up the centrepiece of her evil machine of sexual torment. ...