Mister B

Part 1. Getting caught. I see myself as an artist. I have turned the skill of pick pocketing into an art. I am able to asses where people carry cash and other valuables and then I usually know the best way to get my hands on it without them noticing it. My name is Manon. I am a young woman blessed with an athletic figure and I am good in running and gymnastics. I like what I do and have never been caught. I have a lot of freedom and combine my “work” with traveling to the cities around the world. My strategy is always to dress innocent and slightly sexy. In this way people do not suspect me and the men are usually distracted. ...

Part 1. Sandra is the best thing that ever happened to me. We met each other on Fetlife and started playing together and dating. For several years now we are a couple and try to enjoy BDSM as much as possible. A while ago we started to take it to the next level and launched a website where we promoted ourselves as erotic and BDSM performers. This went really well and almost every weekend we have a performance. Sandra takes care of the business and I usually do not know what kind of audience and performance I am facing. I love the thrill of the uncertainty this gives me, and Sandra is so creative she manages to surprise me every time. ...

(story continues from Horse Riding Discipline 4: Suffering) Part 5: Public embarrassment I have been Joan’s slave and lover for a while now and have become a well trained slave. Joan tells me that I am special and tough when it comes to enduring severe punishment. This makes me feel proud. Also I am allowed more privileges such as sleeping with Joan every now and then. One morning, after breakfast Joan seems to have decided to change the game a bit. With a twinkle in her eyes she tells me to strip and assume the display position. I am blindfolded and with my hands folded in the back of my neck told to wait. When Joan returns she stands behind me and fastens something that feels like a belt around my waist, then something large is pushed inside my vagina and something is pulled up between my legs and clicked shut in the front. ...

Part 1: The Saddle Room Ever since I was a school girl I have been taking horse riding lessons. I started out when I was about ten riding on a pony. When I was fourteen I started riding horses. My horse riding instructor was from that moment on a tough woman who exercised relentless discipline over her pupils and accepted no fooling around. If I, or any of my fellow pupils where messing around she would point her riding crop at you and say; “You there, saddle room duty!” This meant you had to organize and maintain the saddle room after finishing your class. ...

(story continues from Horse Riding Discipline 1: The Saddle Room) Part 2: A Brave Girl I cycled home feeling very confused and strange. The fabric of my riding pants rubbed against my sore butt giving me a constant reminder of what just happened. That night I hardly slept and did not know if I would obey my instructor. The next day I was very absent minded and clumsy. Luckily I managed not to draw the attention to this. My mind was racing. What will I do? What will happen if I go? What will happen if I do not go! Towards the end of the day I noticed I started to feel a growing feeling of curiosity about my upcoming adventure and even more about the behaviour of my instructor yesterday. Why would Joan do this? Which lesson does she want to teach me? I thought to myself. I gathered courage and decided I wanted to find out why she had treated me like this. ...

(story continues from Horse Riding Discipline 2: A Brave Girl) Part 3: Initiation I do not know how long I sat like this. But after a while I seem to awake from some kind of trance. I get up, stretch my legs and wriggle my arms. Strangely enough it seems as if I came to peace with my bonds and this helpless state I am in Suddenly the door to the living room opens. “Come to me”, Joan says softly. ...

(story continues from Horse Riding Discipline 3: Initiation) Part 4: Suffering Joan kisses my forehead and smiles at me. “Do you love me so much that you want to suffer for me?” She asks. “Yes miss”. I reply softly. “Good, come back tomorrow then and prove it to me”, my mistress replies. We cuddle a bit more and then I receive the key for the metal box. Joan stays on the coach as I take the box to the cold hallway. I unlock the box and get dressed. I do not want to go home but dare not go back inside. So with a sad but also satisfied feeling I cycle home. Back home in the bathroom I admire the red marks on my back, behind and upper legs. My hand wanders down to between my legs and I quickly rub myself to another climax. With trembling legs I stand in the shower thinking back to my adventure. I can hardly believe this happened to me. Tired of the thrill of this evening I fall asleep quickly. The next day at school I am distracted and unfocussed. I can hardly wait for the evening to meet Joan again. ...