Marcy and I were on holiday in Brisbane. It was winter break, and one of the best times of the year to enjoy a visit. My name is Janet. — Janet and Marcy! We are lovers, but we go both ways, as long as we’re together. Neither of us is dom or sub, although I’m probably more of a sub than she is. But we’re both Bi, and it doesn’t bother us, knowing we can enjoy sex together, as well as with men. I guess that’s a strange relationship, but for us, it works! ...
( AUTHOR’S NOTE: ) No animal was actually hurt in the filming of this motion picture. – Except for a wild squirrel that dashed out in front of the Craft Services truck as it was on a run for Pizza and Beer for the Producer’s Party. The driver has denied all responsibility for the accident. The squirrel was smashed flat and was unavailable for comment. Edited by Proof Reader. · · · ...
This is a true story of a trip I took one year in the Mediterranean. It tells of what I saw, and have never forgotten. Perhaps in my telling, you won’t be able to forget it either. It was summer, 1974 – nearly 37 years ago. And I had joined a guided tour group on one of those Wham-Bang, six countries in four days kind of deals. The “cruise ship”, such as it was, was a converted “packet steamer” probably left over from World War Two. Years past it’s prime, it chugged along at an amazingly slow pace from port to port, while the tour party soaked up local culture and customs along the way. ...
Copyright 2011 Tony-B, All Rights Reserved - May not be copied or moved to another website without permission. Pherolaggia (pronounced, “Fair-oh-laj-ee-ah”) is defined as an addiction to sexual pheromones. In layman’s terms, it refers to the smelling or sniffing of underwear, usually that of the opposite sex. When I was a kid, I actually did smell a girls bicycle seat on a dare, which led to a life-long addiction to smelling women and their panties – especially their dirty panties. Dirty panties and leather! Otherwise, I’m a “normal” human boy. Well, man, really. So let me tell you MY story….. ...
Copyright 2011 Tony-B, All Rights Reserved - May not be copied or moved to another website without permission “Press your breasts into the wall. Push on the two little metal tabs with your nipples. Every time you lift your breasts away from the wall, you’ll get a shock in your pussy.” I knew what he meant! I had been forced to stand against the wall before….. In fact, many times before; it was his favorite brand of punishment. ...
Copyright 2011 Tony-B, All Rights Reserved. May not be copied or moved to another website without permission. “Hi. ….. My name is Sascha. It is now, but once it was Steve….. Steve Landers. You might have heard of me, it was in all the papers after I disappeared……” I once made the mistake of telling my girlfriend that I wished I had been born a girl. I thought we had a great relationship, and the sex was pretty good. But the one thing I envied her for was that it was real easy for her to get her orgasm, while I had to work pretty hard to get mine. ...
Bondage Ranch Reno, Nevada My dearest Stacy, I am so happy that you have decided to visit my ranch again on your annual holiday. This is a gorgeous time of the year for a holiday, and I’m sure you will appreciate the color changes in the mountains as you run naked during your morning exercise period. I will be very happy to see you, and use you again. You have done very well to keep your body fit and trim with your frequent runs, and while you’re here, we will continue that regimen with daily runs around my outdoor pony-girl track. If you fail to run as ordered, I will attach you to the Hot-Walker, which will literally pull you around the track at a speed which I feel is appropriate. ...
Truckee, California, is a small town about 25 miles north of Lake Tahoe, California at the junction of State Route 28 and U.S. Highway 80. Primarily, it is known as a winter sports support area to many of the Sierra Nevada Ski Resorts such as Squaw Valley, Heavenly, Boreal, and others. It has also developed a tourist trade through innovative vintage architecture and many summer events promoting tourism in the area. ...
I’m not sure how you’ll like this little story, but it’s based on a true event, and might give you a glimpse into how some of my stories come into existence….. Tony-B When I was young my dad bought me a racing bike to ride to school, and get around in my expanding world. I remember that within a month, I could name every street in all directions for about a mile from my house. ...
I know that sounds like a rather fantastic story, but I assure you it’s true, and I’m going to tell you about one of my adventures. Of course I carried a badge, and a gun, as well as a pair of 36-C’s! That’s right, a pair of tits inside my chest protector. And that’s why I got this particular assignment – in fact, that’s why I got all the cross-dressing assignments. ...
Copyright 2010 - All Rights Reserved - May not be copied or moved to another website without permission. It was an ad in the paper – in the Help Wanted column. “Help Wanted, Housekeeper with Benefits.” The ad went on to describe a Large House on secluded acreage in the country. Single retired owner, including a private apartment for the housekeeper’s “off” hours. Sounded ideal – just what I was looking for. I had been laid off my previous position, a result of the recession, and serving jobs – in any capacity – were hard to come by. ...
Story Copyright 2010 Tony-B, All Rights Reserved May not be copied or moved to another website without permission I am a transsexual. Been one all my life. At least as far back as I can remember. My mother tells me that she kept me nursing at the nipple until I was about 3 years old. I was born male, but fixed upon breasts very early. I fixated on them, my therapist tells me, and that led me to where I am today – waiting in a clinic, waiting for sex reassignment surgery. I’m finally going to be the woman I was meant to be. And it’s about time! ...
I had not been feeling well lately, but like a lot of men, was reluctant to visit the doctor out of the male illusion that I would be okay. And so I did nothing until it was too late. I knew the problem, whatever it was, had become more serious when I started having cramps, and morning sickness. At least that was what I guessed. After one particularly unpleasant bout, I gathered myself together and made an appointment with the doctor I had visited infrequently during my 23 years of life. ...
All Rights Reserved. May not be copied or moved to another website without permission Sometimes, it’s as if a key gets turned in your brain, and the memories rush out in a rash – memories that you’d long since forgotten. It was that way with me last week when I was watching an old movie on cable television, called “The Red Shoes”. It’s the story of a ballerina who has a magical pair of red ballet slippers, which drive her to obsession and into madness. ...
Her name was Carolyn, although she preferred to be called Carol, and she was the first girl I had sex with on a regular basis. She never told me her last name; she said she didn’t want me to track her down when we broke up. So I knew that it wasn’t going to be a lasting relationship, and that I’d have to enjoy it while I could. World War II was finally over, and it came time for me to leave home, and start my own life. I managed to talk my way into a good job – good for the times. I was making a little over a dollar an hour in an electronics manufacturing plant. After taxes were taken out, I ended up with forty dollars and change, which was quite good back in those days, considering my age, and the times. ...
It was a sleazy, dimly lit little bar, similar to any of those in or near major cities all around the world. Cities like Hong Kong, Saigon, certain places in Africa, and of course, Tijuana, Mexico. This was the late 50’s, and this one was in Tijuana – just across the border from a major military training station in San Diego, California. It was traditional among many military men that new recruits should get drunk and get laid as a rite of passage upon graduation from their basic training, and in San Diego, the place to go was Tijuana. Cheap prices, and reportedly, cheap whores. ...
It was a sleazy, dimly lit little bar, similar to any of those in or near major cities all around the world. Cities like Hong Kong, Saigon, certain places in Africa, and of course, Tijuana, Mexico. This was the late 50’s, and this one was in Tijuana – just across the border from a major military training station in San Diego, California. It was traditional among many military men that new recruits should get drunk and get laid as a rite of passage upon graduation from their basic training, and in San Diego, the place to go was Tijuana. Cheap prices, and reportedly, cheap whores. ...
(story continues from Sex Slave 1: Sold) Part 2: Examination “You’re nothing but a walking cunt”, he said. “As long as you cooperate, and follow orders, you’ll be well treated. But if you resist or try to escape, you’ll be punished!” It was the self-proclaimed ‘doctor’ speaking, a member of some kind of sex club. They call themselves ‘Masters’. “Your primary reason for living is going to be to provide pleasure to anyone who wants to take you. If you fail to satisfy a sex partner, you will be punished severely!” ...
You know, a woman’s body is very tender – especially between her legs, where the truth of her sex lies. You can do a lot of things to a woman’s body, and she’ll never complain. But touch her between her legs, and it sets the fire within her ablaze. I was in my third year of college when I met the Japanese man who was to become my Master. He was a nice looking man, and was pursuing his Master’s Degree in economics. A funny choice, as it turned out. The ‘Master’s Degree’ part, at least! ...
Truly, women must be from another planet! There was a famous book written, called “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus”! It espoused that because of the differences, men and women were completely different species. At least that much was implied from the title. I knew that I was a cross-dresser, early on. My mother, my older sister, and I live together. My Dad died in a trucking accident when I was a young boy. I don’t remember too much about him, but my sister does. She’s older than I ….. An older sister. And that was probably part of my problem. ...
We were in the elevator, going down, when the lights flickered, went out, and the elevator stopped between floors. I was in the Emergency Ward of Chicago’s General Hospital. I had fallen and broken my leg. ‘Broken’ isn’t exactly the right word – it was only a severe fracture. “Broken” was a colloquialism. Anyway, the doctor put a cast on my leg to hold it immobile while the fracture healed, and the orderly was taking me down to my room so I could get dressed and go home, after the final x-rays were taken. I was wearing only my underwear, one shoe, and the hospital bathrobe. ...
I had an interesting experience yesterday. I went to Wal-Mart, a nation-wide discount department store in the USA. They were having a sale on computer paper, and I needed to restock my supply. Anyway, I saw a woman there, who is difficult to get out of my mind. She appeared to be in her mid-20’s, and was very pretty. Of course, I think all women are pretty, in one way or another – you just have to look for it in some women, more than others. ...
I remember that night, very well! I had just returned from work, and you were alredy in the tub, taking a hot bath for the night of pleasure that was to come. ….. When you saw me, you smiled, and I kneew I had to have you again. So I stripped off, and climbed into the tub behind you. As my body slid down behind yours, I felt the smoothness of your perfect back, pressing against my chest. ...
Being pregnant, for a man, was pure hell, I thought! And talk about bondage….. Carrying a baby to full term is the worst bondage I can think of. It started out because my wife and I were arguing again about having a baby. We had been married several years, and I wanted a child, but she didn’t. I have to say that we were a normal working couple – we both had careers, and were doing quite well, financially ...
I had always wanted to be a girl! I wasn’t one just yet, but I had plans….. When I was younger, they kicked me out of the service and called me ‘queer’, just because they caught me with another man in the shower. I mean, there was a real big stink about it, and that led to the ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ policy that’s still in effect, today. Well, maybe my case wasn’t what caused the policy, but it certainly contributed to it. ...
“Please … “, I said. “Let me take your body, and you take mine!” She was going to commit suicide, and this might be the only chance I had to ever become a woman! I tried to convince her that I knew a Chinese Sorcerer, who could change her mind into my body, and my mind into hers, and all her problems would disappear. “Please”, I begged, “You’re in good health, and so am I. And you can live a long, healthy life, if only you’ll give up this idea and let the Wizard do this for us. I know things are bad for you right now, but he can make it better. You won’t have any boy problems any more.” ...
It was a fantastic idea! A place where you could go to buy body parts. For the budding Frankenstein in all of us, it was a place where you could go to get body parts to make your own woman! Think Bride of Frankenstein, but without all the cinematic bullshit! Think of a soft, feeling, and willing woman, built to your own specifications. Big boobs, little boobs, a cute ass, or a big ass – whatever you wanted. It was available for a price, and could be custom made to your specification. The only thing was, they couldn’t give her a soul! ...
“Please”, he begged…. “I just want to know what you taste like.” He was begging me for a date, and had been, for the better part of a half hour. He finally got around to talking about sex, hoping it would interest me enough to agree to date him. He was the first black man who had shown any interest in me since I graduated from High School. Usually it was the whitey boys who pursued me, hoping to date and fuck me, or just fuck me if they could get away with it. What drew them to me was my soft, brown skin – almost milk-chocolate in color, and my jet black eyes. It would be a gold star on their chart, if they could wangle a date with me, and get me into bed! ...
The white casket was a thing of beauty, and when HE locked me in it, it was my own, private, bondage prison. There would be no use telling you our real names – we’d just be another pair of names in the bondage world. Not much different than anybody else who was into bondage. So I shall always refer to my Master as ‘HE’. We met on the Internet, in one of the many bondage chat rooms. HE took a liking to my profile, and sought me out, asking me – TELLING me to meet him in the private bondage chat room at ten o’clock that night. The private chat room could be set up so that nobody except those you approved, could read your messages while you were ‘in session’. ...
When I woke up, it took me a few seconds to remember where I was. I was surrounded by darkness, and I was in my box again. George liked to keep me in my box while I slept. The worst part of it was in not knowing how long he was going to keep me in the box this time, and I had to pee! Lately, he had been keeping me in the box longer and longer each day. He was “conditioning me”, he said. ...
I happened at one of my son’s High School Football Games. I was the typical soccer mom, chauffeuring my son around after school – to the games, to the Dentist – to the Library – any place where he couldn’t walk, or ride his bike to. My husband Ralph worked in the City, and usually didn’t get home for dinner until after six – mostly closer to seven, when the commute was congested. We lived in the suburbs – one of the many bedroom communities that sprang up around the City to house the growing population of white-collar workers that had been drawn to the city by the growing computer revolution. ...
Copyright 2009 Tony B, All Rights Reserved. May not be copied or moved to another website without permission Part 1: Sold My husband John sold me to be a sex slave for twenty thousand dollars. Granted, times are tough, and we were strapped financially after he lost his job, but to callously sell me, like a sack of potatoes into slavery was just impossible to understand. I’m glad about what happened in the long run. ...