<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Unknown on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/unknown/</link><description>Recent content in Unknown on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:48 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/unknown/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Android</title><link>/stories/2017/09/23/the-android/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/09/23/the-android/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Even in the late 2020&amp;rsquo;s, medical science still hadn&amp;rsquo;t found a cure for several causes of death related to extensive damage to the brain. The bicycle helmet was still the best thing going for prevention. Fred&amp;rsquo;s job involved research into the use of computer circuits to replace irreparable portions of the brain. Given that Fred was very much a loaner and dedicated to his work, it was no wonder he hadn&amp;rsquo;t been selected to work on the latest circuits designed for use where areas of the brain providing personality and so on had been destroyed. He had just concluded a very boring project that involved conducting a very detailed set of tests on a circuit that he didn&amp;rsquo;t even know the purposes of. He was in the kick-off meeting for the next test project.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>An Education</title><link>/stories/2015/07/26/an-education/</link><pubDate>Sun, 26 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/07/26/an-education/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Ms Summers placed her hand into the Tupperware and pulled out the tiny little naked man. He wriggled between her long fingers, and Ms Summers graced him with a warm smile from lips impossibly big. She never took her eyes off him as she addressed him. Whatever he said was too quiet to be heard, but he struggled with more vigour and beat futilely at the huge fingers that held him.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Debbie’s Doll</title><link>/stories/2015/07/26/debbies-doll/</link><pubDate>Sun, 26 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/07/26/debbies-doll/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Caution: If scenes where the character dies upsets you - then don&amp;rsquo;t read chapter 5.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 1:“The Beginning”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My head began to swim as she
said the words, “You will never leave my grasp again”. I didn’t know what she
meant, I only knew she was mad. My wife of five years had just found out that I
had been seeing my old girlfriend, the one I had been dating prior to meeting
and marrying her. And even though my meetings had been innocent, catching up on
old times, talking about people we used to know, my wife didn’t like it. When I
arrived home from work that day, she confronted me at the door with her proof, a
picture of the two of us having lunch at a restaurant near my office.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mexico Road Trip</title><link>/stories/2015/01/15/mexico-road-trip/</link><pubDate>Thu, 15 Jan 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/01/15/mexico-road-trip/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;He had with him only the essentials. There would be more time for fun once they reached Mexico. Duct tape, rope, four gags, a few odd toys, including four rabbit vibes that were 10 inches in length and 2 inches in diameter complete with 36 hour batteries. With that, he had all he needed for the drive down. The four girls, he knew, were on a road trip from California to Mexico. Little did they know they&amp;rsquo;d be getting across the border sooner than they&amp;rsquo;d thought. The foursome should all be knocked out by now, assuming they drank the spiked champagne he&amp;rsquo;d had delivered to the hotel under the name of Carmen&amp;rsquo;s boyfriend.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>White Rubber &amp; Gas</title><link>/stories/2014/05/06/white-rubber-gas/</link><pubDate>Tue, 06 May 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/05/06/white-rubber-gas/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Caroline lay still. Below her, the trolley&amp;rsquo;s wheels turned
almost without a
sound; above, the strip lights slid smoothly past, glowing whiter
than the
ceiling and walls, though the corridor was utterly clean. Dr
Beck marched
alongside, not in her usual neat shoes, but in the loose-fitting
short white
boots that were part of the uniform in an operating theatre.
She leaned into
Caroline&amp;rsquo;s view.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;How are you feeling?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m fine,&amp;rdquo; said Caroline bravely.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Washing Machine 2</title><link>/stories/2014/04/10/washing-machine-2/</link><pubDate>Thu, 10 Apr 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/04/10/washing-machine-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="washingmachine.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Washing Machine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My girlfriend, Ann, said, “If I’m going to treat you like laundry, that means you will go into the washing machine whenever I say you do and you won’t come out until I am finished with the wash and decide you’re clean. It means you will be washed with the rest of the load, hot or cold, whites or permanent press, normal or delicates. You will be washed with detergent and rinsed with fabric softener. If I have four loads to wash you will be in the washer four times, once for each load. If this is what you agree to, there is no going back…ok?” The choice was obvious and with that she brought her basket of dirty clothes over to the washer and casually threw them into the machine with me. I was starting to get some second thoughts and was just about to get out when she reached into the machine with a large two cup container of Tide. 
I said, “That’s way too much detergent,” as I started to get out.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Temptation</title><link>/stories/2014/03/07/temptation/</link><pubDate>Fri, 07 Mar 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/03/07/temptation/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;That parcel is here Susy!&amp;rdquo; Cheryl shouted, as she
battled through the front door
of the flat. Cheryl kicked it out of the way and busied herslef
with the shopping: Susy&amp;rsquo;s damned
projects always seemed to involve some disaster - late night,
long journeys, and this latest one&amp;hellip;
She couldn&amp;rsquo;t even get Susy to admit what this one was all about.
All she was told was to look out
for this large and important parcel. And here it was - in the
way of her shopping, swathed in tons
of sticky tape.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Et Tu, Jennifer?</title><link>/stories/2014/01/18/et-tu-jennifer/</link><pubDate>Sat, 18 Jan 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/01/18/et-tu-jennifer/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This can&amp;rsquo;t be the right place, Jennifer thought as she parked
her car. She checked the piece of paper Robert had given her.
It didn&amp;rsquo;t say anything about a do-it-yourself storage place,
but the address checked out.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It took Jennifer a while to figure out that Unit #S-11 was way
in the back. She moved quickly through the rows of single-story
sheds, the darkness only occasionally punctuated by dim naked
bulbs hanging randomly over the garage doors.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Be Careful What You Wish For, You May Get It</title><link>/stories/2013/09/24/be-careful-what-you-wish-for-you-may-get-it/</link><pubDate>Tue, 24 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/09/24/be-careful-what-you-wish-for-you-may-get-it/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;WARNING&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Do &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; try this at home, the story is presented here as a &lt;strong&gt;fantasy only&lt;/strong&gt;,
to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.
Be Careful What You Wish For, You May Get It Unknown FF/m; D/s; femdom; captive; zipties; wrap; gag; glue; bagged; cocoon; transport; cartunk; breathplay; susp; torment; mast; climax; denial; reluct/nc; XXX&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;m very excited, I have been called into the work of a Dominatrix I have been involved with for the last few months. Anna, my Dom, and Amanda, her lesbian partner, also a Dom, have a successful business in town. While I don&amp;rsquo;t expect a session at their work there may be one when they finish for the day.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Treatment</title><link>/stories/2013/09/15/the-treatment/</link><pubDate>Sun, 15 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/09/15/the-treatment/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Liz and Sam sat on opposite sides of the waiting room couch.
They had frequently been together like this, but they rarely
spoke to each other. Now it was nearly seven. Dr Perkins had
been extremely busy that day and had to change their appointments
to this evening. Liz wasn&amp;rsquo;t happy about it. She was still trying to quit smoking
and although Dr Perkins had made a lot of progress, she still
had this urge to light up. To keep that from happening, she began
to chew her nails.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bachelorette Party</title><link>/stories/2012/12/17/bachelorette-party/</link><pubDate>Mon, 17 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/12/17/bachelorette-party/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Surprise!&amp;rdquo; Paige&amp;rsquo;s friends called out as she walked into her apartment. She was
so startled that she dropped her briefcase as she spun around with a squeak.
&amp;ldquo;Happy shower to you, happy shower to you, happy shower dear Paige&amp;hellip;. happy
shower to you!&amp;rdquo; they sang in delighted offkey. She gazed around at her apartment
in shock, they had decorated it with balloons and a large banner that read&amp;hellip;
&amp;ldquo;HAPPY WEDDING SHOWER&amp;rdquo;
Finally she got her composure back and laughed with pleasure at their
trickery. &amp;ldquo;How the hell did you guys get in here?!&amp;rdquo; she demanded.
&amp;ldquo;That was ME!&amp;rdquo; Sandy admitted, giving her a big hug. &amp;ldquo;I convinced your landlord
to let us in about an hour ago to set up. Plus, she&amp;rsquo;s going out for the weekend
so we can be as noisy as we want to!&amp;rdquo; she added gleefully. Missy, a tall black
woman with large tits, grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room. She
then pushed Paige into the easy chair, which had been pulled up to the coffee
table for the occasion and they all gathered around.
She smiled at her four friends from work and shook her head ruefully. She had
known that they would do something to celebrate her marriage to Greg, but this
had really caught her off guard. Brenda, a sultry redhead, poured her a glass of
wine while Kim, a pert but bouncy oriental, started piling gifts in front of
her. They all laughed and talked as she opened each present. They &amp;lsquo;oohed&amp;rsquo; and &amp;lsquo;aaahed&amp;rsquo;
over the dishes and crystal&amp;hellip; and giggled wickedly at the lingerie for the
honeymoon.
Finally, when they were into the third bottle of wine, all of the gifts had been
unwrapped and thanked for. Sandy, the obvious ringleader, scampered off to the
kitchen to get something. The others perked up at this and smirked at Paige&amp;rsquo;s
puzzlement. Sandy walked back in slowly, with a two layer cake in her hands,
several lit candles dancing on top. She carefully set it down on the table in
front of Paige and sat down herself.
&amp;ldquo;Okay, you make wish and blow candles down.&amp;rdquo; Kim told her with a smile.
&amp;ldquo;That&amp;rsquo;s blow the candles OUT Kimmy,&amp;rdquo; Missy told her oriental friend with a sigh.
&amp;ldquo;She blow candles, it not matter,&amp;rdquo; Kim retorted.
They all giggled a bit more. Paige leaned forward and sighed, &amp;ldquo;I just wish the
guys could have been here&amp;rdquo;, then she took a quick breath and blew out the
candles.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tony's Dolls</title><link>/stories/2012/12/08/tonys-dolls/</link><pubDate>Sat, 08 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/12/08/tonys-dolls/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Anthony had always liked dolls. Even when he was little, he would sneak into
his older sister&amp;rsquo;s room when she wasn&amp;rsquo;t there and play with her Barbie
dolls, dressing her in all the different outfits she had. As he grew older,
Anthony began to notice the differences between the Barbie dolls and the Ken
dolls. He started to have fantasies about fucking a life-size Barbie, and he
would masturbate frequently with his favorite Barbie.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Amber's New Pet</title><link>/stories/2010/11/21/ambers-new-pet/</link><pubDate>Sun, 21 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/11/21/ambers-new-pet/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It is a warm day in Wildaron Forest. Amber Nightwind has been waiting for this
day a long time. At last, the stars are right. Life as a Dryadani is a busy one.
But lately she has been wishing for someone - someone she can Play with. After
much study, she has determined that today will be the day.
Stepping into her garden, she begins to pace out a circle. At each quarter
point, she lights a small torch, picks a few flowers to weave into her long red
hair, then recites a brief invocation.
&amp;ldquo;Ohh, Powers of the East, come if you will, you blow so good! Ohh, Powers of the
South, come if you will, you are so-o hot! Ohh, Powers of the West, come if you
will, you are so wet! Ohh, Powers of the North, come if you will, you are so-o
hard!&amp;rdquo;
By the time she completes the circuit, she has gotten a bit hot herself, so she
unbuttons her silken chemise, exposing her full round breasts. Standing in the
center of the circle, she balances a little precariously on her red spike-heeled
pumps, legs spread, and begins her prayer to Sharalisa.
In another part of Wildaron, you, a thin melancholy Gwelfani, are taking a break
from practicing your borashan. You are resting against a rainbalar tree, your
long blond hair wisping over your shoulders. Although musicians are honored and
in demand in Shaharasai, you sometimes feels restless and unfulfilled. Leaning
back, you close your pale blue eyes for a moment, pondering your situation.
Suddenly, the very air around you seems to thicken, swirl, and hum. You open
your eyes, but there is nothing to be seen. You try to stand but your limbs
won&amp;rsquo;t respond to your thoughts. You breathe in deeply, once, twice; trying to
understand the situation.
On you third breath, the air begins to clear. You find you are able to move, a
little. You look down at yourself; your black boots are still visible under the
edge of your golden robe.
But by looking down instead of up, you are not prepared for what comes next. You
are suddenly scooped up in a large hand, whose crimson fingernails form a
threatening cage around you.
&amp;ldquo;Ah, by my Lady Sharalisa, the spell worked! It worked!&amp;rdquo; a musical voice trills
out. Looking at last upwards, you behold the face of the Dryadani Amber. She is
truly magnificent, towering some twenty-five feet above where you are sprawled
in her palm. Her full, ample breasts hang just across from where you sit, though
each one is twice your height.
&amp;ldquo;Long have I wished for just such a little toy to amuse myself with,&amp;rdquo; she
continues. &amp;ldquo;And now I have you. Tell me, my little trinket, what is your name?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;T-Terry,&amp;rdquo; you stammer out. You have, in your most private moments, fantasized
about a similar situation. But now that it is real and you are lying in her huge
warm hand, you find the reality of your predicament quite overwhelming.
&amp;ldquo;Well, Terry, I am Amber Nightwind, but you may address me as Goddess&amp;rsquo;, &amp;quot; she
giggles. Her hand shakes a little as she says this, bouncing you slightly. &amp;ldquo;From
now on, you are MINE. I can be a most loving Goddess, but you must do your best
to please me at all times, is that clear?&amp;rdquo;
You nod your head a little. You are not sure if you like this situation, but for
now it seems best to play along. You cannot even see the ground from where you
lie in her hand; who knows how far down it may be?
&amp;ldquo;That&amp;rsquo;s good,&amp;rdquo; she says. &amp;ldquo;Now, for starters, let&amp;rsquo;s get rid of these clothes -
you won&amp;rsquo;t be needing them anymore.&amp;rdquo; She grabs your left foot between the index
and thumb of her other hand and pulls your boot off.
&amp;ldquo;Hey!&amp;rdquo; you start to protest. But she is already pulling off the right one as
well.
&amp;ldquo;None of that now - you are supposed to please me, not the other way around.&amp;rdquo;
Amber frowns down at you slightly. &amp;ldquo;Now, how does this robe come off?&amp;rdquo;
She begins to prod at you, lifting the edge of your golden robe with her long
fingernail. You struggle a little to keep it down - for despite your
trepidation, the sight of the lovely Dryadani&amp;rsquo;s immense breasts has had its
effect on you. You are not ready to reveal this to Amber; besides, your plans to
escape will be complicated if you are naked.
Still, she is intent on having her way. Grasping the hem of your robe, she
succeeds in lifting it over your head, forcing you to raise your arms as the
garment is pulled up, and at last, off. You are now completely nude and helpless
in her giant hand.
&amp;ldquo;Ahh, and what is this?&amp;rdquo; she smiles. &amp;ldquo;I see my tiny captive is savoring this
after all!&amp;rdquo; With one tapered finger the size of your thigh, she strokes your
erection as gently as she can. To you, however, this presses your manhood hard
against your stomach. You momentarily forget all ideas of escape and lie back,
letting her bring you to the height of arousal.
&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m glad you&amp;rsquo;re enjoying this, my dear. But I am ready for some enjoyment
myself.&amp;rdquo; Amber ends her fingertip massage, instead gripping you firmly in her
hand. Her tight grasp nearly knocks the wind out of you and bruises your ribs
just a little.
You can just manage to peer out over the top of her hand. She is carrying you
towards a gargantuan castle whose misty spires you have seen soaring above the
western clouds when conditions are just right. She enters a door in one turret
and climbs the stairs, two at a time. This rapid ascent jounces you so severely
you close your eyes to keep away the vertigo.
When things settle enough, you open your eyes, just in time to find yourself
being set into a golden birdcage. &amp;ldquo;Stay there just a moment, my pet,&amp;rdquo; Amber says
breathily. &amp;ldquo;I won&amp;rsquo;t be a minute.&amp;rdquo;
She steps over to a washstand and slithers out of her silken blouse. Seeing her
standing there, running a moist cloth over her immense torso, you find your
arousal returning. But more important, she has turned her back on you - perhaps
now you can make your escape.
You slowly make your way to the cage door. Fortunately, it is only latched, not
locked. Peering out over the edge, you decide you might be able to leap down
onto the red-cushioned sofa below. You swing out and down, dangling from the
cage bottom to get yourself as close as possible. Unfortunately, just as you let
go, the door swings shut with a clank!, alerting Amber.
&amp;ldquo;Tsk, tsk. Didn&amp;rsquo;t I tell you to stay where you were?&amp;rdquo; Amber asks a little
peevishly just as you drop into the cushions on the sofa. You try to hide behind
a pillow, but she is too quick. Grabbing you around the middle, she shakes you a
little. &amp;ldquo;That is no way to behave! Now -&amp;rdquo; she continues, &amp;ldquo;all that work in the
garden has worn me out. I could use a foot massage..&amp;rdquo;
She sets you down on the floor by her feet. She is wearing bright red pumps;
their pointed spikes are as tall as you are. She crosses one huge shapely leg
over the other, the sole of her foot hanging just above your head. &amp;ldquo;Look out
below!&amp;rdquo; she laughs, as she slips her heel loose from the shoe. You narrowly miss
being impaled on the spike as it swings forward.
Letting the shoe slide off completely, she orders you to start rubbing her foot.
&amp;ldquo;Rub it hard , little man,&amp;rdquo; she commands, &amp;ldquo;my feet are sore!&amp;rdquo; She shoves her
foot towards you. It is even larger than you are. She slips off her other shoe,
nudging you forward with her other foot. Seeing no way out of your predicament,
you begin to rub her foot. She pushes it against you. &amp;ldquo;My feet are so-o hot and
sweaty,&amp;rdquo; she complains. &amp;ldquo;Can you give them a tongue bath?&amp;rdquo; You look around for a
way to escape this, but with one foot caging you in from behind and the other
waiting in front, there seems little chance of that. &amp;ldquo;Go on!&amp;rdquo; she urges
impatiently.
So you stick out your tongue and begin to lick the bottom of her enormous foot.
It smells of leather and sweat and something indefinable. You are soon
intoxicated by the heady aroma and begin to lick all over her sole, pressing
your slim body up against the wall of soft pink flesh. You are about to be
carried away on waves of salty enchantment when she suddenly grasps you between
her feet.
Leaning back on the couch, Amber raises you up in the air, still firmly between
her feet. &amp;ldquo;Oh-h, that was very nice,&amp;rdquo; she giggles. &amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m feeling much more
relaxed now.&amp;rdquo; Beneath where you are suspended some forty feet in the air, Amber
is a symphony of fire. Her dark red hair spills over her shoulders and onto her
creamy round breasts, each capped with a strawberry nipple the size of your
head.
She is wearing a bright red miniskirt that stands out against the ruby red of
the couch under her. With her legs raised like this, that little skirt has
fallen back, revealing the sheer black panties underneath. Through them you can
make out a tangle of reddish curls. You squirm a little, but not too much, for a
fall from this height would surely kill you.
Amber laughs up at you &amp;ldquo;Well, little one, I&amp;rsquo;m tempted to play&amp;rsquo; with you right
here. I&amp;rsquo;ve been waiting so long for this chance,&amp;rdquo; she says, running her hands
over her breasts, squeezing them, making her nipples stand erect. &amp;ldquo;But I&amp;rsquo;ve a
better place in the other room. Only I better make sure you&amp;rsquo;re safe for the
journey; I&amp;rsquo;m not sure I can trust you yet&amp;rdquo; she frowns.
With that, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, pulling them
down to just above where the thick curls begin. She bends her knees, bringing
her feet just above where her hands now lie, the left one idly stroking her
womanhood through the sheer black silk.
With her right hand, she pulls the fabric out away from her body. Then,
abruptly, she loosens her foothold on you, dropping you down so you land in the
soft deep nest waiting there. With her right hand she reaches in and positions
you before pulling the panties back into place.
&amp;ldquo;Get used to it, dear,&amp;rdquo; she coos. &amp;ldquo;You&amp;rsquo;re going to be spending a lot of time
there!&amp;rdquo; With that, Amber stands up, wiggling her hips a little to settle you
into place. You are wrapped tightly against her enormous femininity, the moist
black silk taut against your back.
You are battling against your imprisonment, but there is no place for you to go&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tanya in Control</title><link>/stories/2010/08/01/tanya-in-control/</link><pubDate>Sun, 01 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/08/01/tanya-in-control/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Tanya bent down and picked up her shoes standing them neatly on the table in front of her. The chunky heels were four inches long, and square in shape. With downward pressure from her thumbs she slid aside a panel which covered the top of one heel, revealing a hollow interior. 
Smiling and humming happily she unfastened a catch on a small cage on the same table, reached in and lifted up a mini-man. He was naked, struggling desperately futilely against her. She dropped him into the heel then replaced the covering panel. Inside, the little man had to curl his body awkwardly to fit in. 
His head, neck and spine were painfully bent. It was dark, musty, sweat-smelly and warm. 
Meanwhile, Tanya had removed a similar panel on the undersideof her shoe. This one was directly beneath the pad of her foot, extending under her toes. The exposed space was divided in two, like the battery compartment of a remote control. Again she reached into the cage, but this time she picked two little men. She lay the men face down in the spaces available, so their backs would be to the floor when she had the shoe on. 
One disobedient mini-man would not lie still. With a little sigh and a wry grin of amusement she lifted him toward her face. As he came nearer and nearer she licked her red painted lips, slowly opening her mouth as if she were about to eat. She laughed at the sounds of his tiny pleading shouts and screams. 
Changing her grip to both hands she pinched his waist between fingers and thumbs then twisted his body sharply, snapping his spine and paralysing him. 
&amp;ldquo;Now you&amp;rsquo;ll lie still won&amp;rsquo;t you little one ?&amp;rdquo; she laughed. She put him back inside the sole of her shoe and clicked the rubber sole back into place. The inner sole of her shoe was perforated allowing the men to breathe, although every breath was suffused with the smell of her feet. When her full weight was on the shoe, then the sole of her foot closed off the breathing holes and the mini-men came close to suffocation. 
She repeated this process with the other shoe, then slipped them on. Standing slowly she let her full weight bear down on her little captives. She walked around the room, swaggering letting her full hips sway and undulate admiring herself in the full length mirror she had hung on the wall. She looked magnificently sexy in a tight white top, semi-transparent and decorated in flower patterns, black lycra micro-mini-skirt, black stockings and her special high heeled shoes. 
As she walked, the mini-men suffered immediate pains, being crushed, smothered and violently shaken in their shoe prison. Even standing still she was causing immense crushing pain but if she ran or stamped her feet then the mini-men faced oblivion. But, to Tanya, the benefits were obvious. The little panting breaths from under her feet drew air in and out, cooling and comforting her hot, sweaty feet. Their constant struggles under the pad of her foot gave her a delicious massage, and the feeling of crushing and abusing these helpless little men, feeling them squirm under her feet for her pleasure, was an immense turn on. 
That she was turned on, could be testified to by a mini-man in the crotch of her panties. He was sewn in, using loops to hold wrists, ankles and waist. He was muscular and resilient and needed to be. He could hold his breath for over a minute and often needed to as she walked or sat. All day her juices flowed over him, they soaked his skin, and went up his nose as well as into his helpless mouth. She loved the idea of using these little creatures as panty liners what better use for them could there be. Sometimes she would press his body to her slit for greater stimulation and pleasure. 
She sat down to finish her cup of tea before she went to work, smoothing her mini-skirt with the palms of her hands. She grimaced and spat her tea back into the cup, it had gone cold. She picked up the smoked glass cup, swirling the tea and watching as the cloudy liquid moved. She was about to take it and the tea-pot to the sink when she noticed a mini-man glaring at her from the cage. She put her cup down again smiling in surprise at this mini-man&amp;rsquo;s gall. She plucked him from the cage, holding him upside down by the ankles. He struggled and tried to kick free as she moved him over the table and toward her cup. 
With a wicked grin and a laughing &amp;ldquo;Bye-Bye&amp;rdquo;, she ducked his little head and body into the cold tea. 
After a few seconds of frenzied kicking came an almost imperceptible stream of bubbles. She paused then pulled him out, just enough for his head to clear the surface. It amused her to see him gulping air into his tiny lungs, even as he was coughing and spluttering from being submerged. Just as his breathing returned to normal, she ducked him again. This time he stayed strangely still for a while, but eventually as she looked idly through the glass sides of the cup, she saw his eyes open wide and he struggled again. 
Once more, she lifted him out of the tea. Holding him firmly in her left hand, she lifted up the tea-pot and refilled her cup to the top. Some tea spilled over into the saucer so she lifted the cup from it and poured a little back into the cup. With slow cruelty she dislocated his arms at each shoulder and his legs at the hips. He passed out momentarily until she began snapping the tiny fragile bones of his arms and legs. The adrenalin overdose was enough to shock him back to consciousness. With a chuckle she dropped him into the full cup, headfirst. To ensure his doom, she sat the saucer on top of the cup, sealing him in. Through the glass she saw his fruitless struggles to survive.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tasty</title><link>/stories/2010/05/16/tasty/</link><pubDate>Sun, 16 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/05/16/tasty/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;She was beautiful, the kind of girl mama wouldn&amp;rsquo;t let you bring home, she was bad but I like that, I liked the way she made me feel the way she would touch me, the
way her skin felt against mine.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She looked at me softly, I looked back and whispered to her, &amp;ldquo;Will you hold it?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Without a word she reached her hand slowly down
stroking my belly until she got to it, I could feel her warm fingers slowly closing around it, soft but firm as she gently stroked and petted, I could feel the warm soft skin
of her other hand gently cup my balls.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Plan for Dumping Him</title><link>/stories/2010/04/27/the-plan-for-dumping-him/</link><pubDate>Tue, 27 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/04/27/the-plan-for-dumping-him/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;If you&amp;rsquo;re the author of this story please let me know.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This is a fantasy of mine that I&amp;rsquo;ve enjoyed thinking about lately.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;ve had another long night at the theater again tonight, can you come to see me? We&amp;rsquo;ll be alone and we can play around if your up for it.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I have been working for the multi-plex movie theater at the edge of town since I graduated high school and worked my way to manager after a few years. It has it&amp;rsquo;s benefits but has some long hours.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cum or Go</title><link>/stories/2010/04/15/cum-or-go/</link><pubDate>Thu, 15 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/04/15/cum-or-go/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;She grabs his balls and squeezes them as Her slave almost drops to his knees in pain. &amp;ldquo;Do you wanna cum slave?&amp;rdquo; She asks.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Mistress is about six feet tall and dressed head to toe in sleak, black rubber.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;he nods his head up and down.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The five foot slave is naked and gagged with his hands bound behind his back with black duct tape. A thin, leather cord is wrapped and tied tightly around his hard cock and shaved balls.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Capture</title><link>/stories/2010/01/17/capture/</link><pubDate>Sun, 17 Jan 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/01/17/capture/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Episode One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a cold, misty morning in March and Anna was on her way to work. She caught the Bus most winter mornings, but on this occasion she had decided to walk. Gazing lazily down at her small feet as she strode forwards, she pulled her handbag further up onto her shoulder. Suddenly she felt her body stiffen as she sensed someone behind her. She glanced fleetingly behind her, but saw nothing but an empty street. Still worried, she quickened her pace and tried to convince herself that it had been merely her imagination playing tricks. It was only one minute later however, that the feeling of being followed by a mysterious stalker returned to her. This time she looked more subtly behind her, only to see a hunched figure receding behind his thick green jacket walking about ten yards behind her on the other side of the road. Relieved and finally feeling safe (the man looked small and non-threatening) she exhaled strongly and continued her walk. It was only at this time, when she expected no attack that it came. She saw nothing but a blur of silver, and then darkness.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Joining the Club</title><link>/stories/2009/12/24/joining-the-club/</link><pubDate>Thu, 24 Dec 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/12/24/joining-the-club/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Matt and Lisa entered the pizza shop and were ushered to a
secluded booth in the back. Lisa had been acting weird ever
since he had picked her up at her house. They had been
going together for about a year and this was to be their
anniversary dinner. They sat there for a minute looking at
each other fondly. As Matt reached for the menu, Lisa
covered his hand with hers.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Giantess Neighbor</title><link>/stories/2009/12/16/giantess-neighbor/</link><pubDate>Wed, 16 Dec 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/12/16/giantess-neighbor/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I write this in the hope that someday someone will read this and know the great
pleasures and great pain that all men will experience in the near future.
One Saturday night while sitting at home watching television I suddenly was
startled by the ringing of my telephone. I picked up the phone and said &amp;ldquo;hello.&amp;rdquo;
It was my beautiful neighbor Christine on the other end. She said, &amp;ldquo;I noticed
you were home on Saturday night. I don&amp;rsquo;t have anything to do either, why don&amp;rsquo;t
you come over and we&amp;rsquo;ll watch TV together.&amp;rdquo;
I said, &amp;ldquo;Sure, I will be right over.&amp;rdquo; I cannot believe that she would call and
invite me over. I have always had a crush on her because she is so beautiful.
I walked over to her house and knocked on the door. When she answered she was
standing there dressed in a black lycra mini-dress with black stockings and
black high heels. I asked, &amp;ldquo;Why are you all dressed up if you are just watching
TV.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Incredible Shrinking Man</title><link>/stories/2009/12/16/the-incredible-shrinking-man/</link><pubDate>Wed, 16 Dec 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/12/16/the-incredible-shrinking-man/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Greetings dear reader!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You probably already know all about me, Scott Carey, &amp;ldquo;The Incredible
Shrinking Man&amp;rdquo;, the strange circus attraction who had to sell his story to
the tabloids, the publishing houses, eventually to Hollywood.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You know that I was exposed to a radioactive cloud that put my metabolism
in reverse gear.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Literally!
From that fateful day on, I was shrinking!
I was losing height at a rate of an inch per week!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Alicia's Birthday Treat</title><link>/stories/2009/11/05/alicias-birthday-treat/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Nov 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/11/05/alicias-birthday-treat/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Alicia gives me a piece of candy. The next thing I realize, I am only 4&amp;quot; tall and looking straight up at a beautiful monument. She picks me up and
hides me in her lunchbox, telling me she&amp;rsquo;s taking me home to celebrate her birthday. She gets me home and tells me to strip.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I tell her to go to hell,
bitch. Wrong move!!!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The next thing I know I am picked up in front of her huge staring face. She blows her hot breath on me and then starts
pulling my clothes off with her teeth as I am kicking and pounding at her lips in complete terror, begging her not to eat me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bill's Ordeal</title><link>/stories/2009/11/05/bills-ordeal/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Nov 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/11/05/bills-ordeal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Bill Johnson woke up on a typical Saturday morning expecting to do typical Saturday morning activities. He knew his wife Kelly and her sister Sarah were going shopping for the day. This would allow Bill some time to do his own thing. He rarely had free time anymore. He usually worked long hours during the week and slept late during the weekend. Kelly would always patronize him to do work, which he did on occasion, but it was plain to see that Kelly was the one who did all the house work. Kelly was a real prize. She had shoulder length brown hair, long legs, and a beautiful body. She had a killer smile that had melted Bill’s heart long ago. Now, 2 years later, Bill and Kelly were finding themselves more distant from each other, what with Bill’s new job and all. Kelly had taken to the internet and was constantly on it surfing the net (What she was surfing Bill never quite knew).&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Nurse Katrina</title><link>/stories/2009/11/05/nurse-katrina/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Nov 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/11/05/nurse-katrina/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;She&amp;rsquo;d worked for Doctor Alan White for a couple of years, but Katrina never could get to like him very well. He was a mean man. He was only thirty and already acted like he was in his fifties. Katrina had thought he was atractive right from the start - made it easier to tolerate on the really bad days. But things had gotten progressively worse over the past couple months.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Surprised by the Garbage Woman</title><link>/stories/2009/10/09/surprised-by-the-garbage-woman/</link><pubDate>Fri, 09 Oct 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/10/09/surprised-by-the-garbage-woman/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;As I am walking to the garbage room beneath my townhouse complex, I
wonder what mysteries await for me. I reach for the door, but a
young woman emerges with a smirk on her face. She is startled by my appearance &amp;hellip; no shirt, sweatpants, and no shoes or socks. After
all, I didn&amp;rsquo;t need to go outside to get here, and I was ready for bed. I enter the odorous room, as I look back to see she has quickly
vanished. The door slams behind me as usual, yet this time seems to
have wedged itself shut pretty good.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Chocolate</title><link>/stories/2009/08/09/chocolate/</link><pubDate>Sun, 09 Aug 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/08/09/chocolate/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Cheryl was what you’d call ‘Strictly Business’ and seldom ever wanted to deal with the likes of the Production aspects of Kay’s Confections, formerly a simple candy store now turned into a big corporation. She always wore the same drab colored suits day in and day out; just so that people were reminded she had no intention of not being taken seriously.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Cheryl’s job was supposed to involve Sales and Marketing, as well as to perform as acting Head of the Assets Committee. She was supposed to make sure the business ran like a business and not just some mom and pop candy store.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>1001 Shrunken Nights</title><link>/stories/2009/02/06/1001-shrunken-nights/</link><pubDate>Fri, 06 Feb 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/02/06/1001-shrunken-nights/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prelude&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;lsquo;I&amp;rsquo;m afraid I&amp;rsquo;m going to have to let you go, little one&amp;rsquo;, The Veiled Giantess
purred, her rosebud lips pouting as she opened the birdcage door and reached
inside for him. The little man gamboled in the cage&amp;hellip; trying to avoid Her
Grasp&amp;hellip; a game they never tired of playing, even now that it looked as if She
were going to finally sell him off.
&amp;lsquo;but mistress&amp;hellip;&amp;rsquo;, he protested, ducking one particularly close swipe of her
elegant Hand, a flash of scarlet Fingernails warning of the near miss,
&amp;lsquo;&amp;hellip;surely i have kept you sufficiently amused? i shall double my efforts to
avoid being owned by that Hungry One!&amp;rsquo; he exclaimed as he rolled and bounced
lightly to his feet, arms out and ready to dodge again, but knowing full well
that She could have him in an eyeblink if She really needed to.
The Giantess giggled, making pincers with Her thumb and forefinger that lunged
for the small scrap of fabric loincloth that served as his only clothing. &amp;lsquo;Oh
my&amp;hellip; what a frightened little face! But not to worry my sweet morsel&amp;hellip; The
Hungry One assures me that She finds you too lean and stringy for Her supp&amp;hellip;
But She claims that She simply must have you as Her new footslave&amp;hellip; and I
really need to replenish my coffers.&amp;rsquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Amy the Giantess</title><link>/stories/2009/02/06/amy-the-giantess/</link><pubDate>Fri, 06 Feb 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/02/06/amy-the-giantess/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Amy&amp;rsquo;s boyfriend was a monster; he would constantly abuse her physically and
psychologically, punching, kicking, and verbally taunting her. She wondered to
herself how she became involved with a person like this and why she continued to
stay in this relationship.
Whack! She felt the sharp pain on her cheek as Jeff slapped her in the face.
Jeff shouted, &amp;ldquo;You no-good bitch! You know I want to eat dinner at 6:30 sharp!
It is 6:35 and my food is not on the table. Damn you!&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m sorry. I&amp;rsquo;m getting it right now.&amp;rdquo;
She hurried into the kitchen and got his food and placed it on the dining room
table. As she placed the last dish on the table, he kicked her in the leg,
causing her to fall on the floor. Amy did not know which hurt the worst, the arm
that she fell on or the leg that Jeff just kicked. She got up crying as Jeff
just watched her and laughed, and went upstairs to her room and laid down on her
bed; she was glad she did not hear him coming after her.
Amy was a 19-year-old college student; she was very beautiful, busty, and had
deep blue eyes and golden-blond hair. She would commute to college each weekday
in her car, and come home in the late afternoon to face him. Even through all of
this abuse she managed to do well in school, maintaining a 3.3 gradepoint
average. Jeff was also 19, and had brown hair and blue eyes; he worked as a
manager at a local gas station. The pay was not that great, but it paid for the
small house in a rural area that they were renting.
During the first few months that they knew each other, Jeff was very different.
He would treat her with kindness and respect and she would do the same. Then he
started drinking and that&amp;rsquo;s when things went downhill; it started out a few
beers per night and then escalated into hard liquor. While intoxicated is when
he would assault her, when she would cower down before him, pleading that he not
hurt her anymore; but the beatings and the verbal torment continued to get
worse, and though he would sometimes apologize the next day and promise to never
hurt her again, these promises were broken often within 24 hours.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Andrea</title><link>/stories/2009/02/06/andrea/</link><pubDate>Fri, 06 Feb 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/02/06/andrea/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;High
school, such a dreaded period for many teenagers, but not Andrea.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Andrea is
a beautiful brown haired, Spanish girl with great tanned skin and a
smile that could make hearts melt. She literally had the world at her feet,
as we will soon discover.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Hurry up,
were almost out of time&amp;rdquo;, Andrea angrily whispered, seemingly to
herself.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I’m doing the best I can!&amp;rdquo; came anguished the reply over her tiny ear
speaker.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Changing Room</title><link>/stories/2007/11/28/changing-room/</link><pubDate>Wed, 28 Nov 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/11/28/changing-room/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The sound of the bed side alarm springing into action shocked Barry
out of his peaceful slumber. He reached over and slammed the thing into
submission. Barry turned and looked over at the woman lying next to him.
She was so peaceful, *how could she always sleep through the damned alarm*
thought Barry. Barry began thinking about the supple woman lying next to
him. Last night had been so wonderful, she was so beautiful, Barry knew
that Melissa was perfect. So why the hell had he married Jean!?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Changing Room</title><link>/stories/2007/11/28/changing-room/</link><pubDate>Wed, 28 Nov 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/11/28/changing-room/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The sound of the bed side alarm springing into action shocked Barry
out of his peaceful slumber. He reached over and slammed the thing into
submission. Barry turned and looked over at the woman lying next to him.
She was so peaceful, *how could she always sleep through the damned alarm*
thought Barry. Barry began thinking about the supple woman lying next to
him. Last night had been so wonderful, she was so beautiful, Barry knew
that Melissa was perfect. So why the hell had he married Jean!?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Wrong Choice</title><link>/stories/2007/11/24/wrong-choice/</link><pubDate>Sat, 24 Nov 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/11/24/wrong-choice/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;As the train chuffs through the darkening countryside I covertly study the ladies
sitting opposite me. Both are wearing long black leather coats trimmed with dark
fur and matching fur hats. Each has a beautiful white silk scarf caressing her throat.
I don&amp;rsquo;t think they realise how closely I am studying them but I can&amp;rsquo;t be sure
because their eyes are hidden behind tinted glasses.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;On one of them the silk scarf shimmers in the last rays of sunlight. I wonder who
they can be. They seem important, almost as if they are managers or senior
politicians. If so they are very unusual for that time and country.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Discovering the Joys of Spandex</title><link>/stories/2007/08/17/discovering-the-joys-of-spandex/</link><pubDate>Fri, 17 Aug 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/08/17/discovering-the-joys-of-spandex/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Karen was an old friend of my wife and mine, and when she passed through town on her way home from a holiday we were happy to put her up for a few days. My wife and I are keen cyclists and I commute a good 15 miles to and from work every day, so when on her last day with us Karen was looking rather bored, I suggested a bike ride.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Helper</title><link>/stories/2007/07/24/the-helper/</link><pubDate>Tue, 24 Jul 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/07/24/the-helper/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s an ordinary enough looking door. Painted grey, a brushed aluminum doorknob with a key slot in the middle of the knob. The only thing different about it is that there is no gap at the bottom. I put my key in the slot and turn it. The knob turns easily, yet there is a very solid, secure feel to it. You can turn it but you can&amp;rsquo;t wiggle it up or down or side to side.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Helper</title><link>/stories/2007/07/24/the-helper/</link><pubDate>Tue, 24 Jul 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/07/24/the-helper/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s an ordinary enough looking door. Painted grey, a brushed aluminum doorknob with a key slot in the middle of the knob. The only thing different about it is that there is no gap at the bottom. I put my key in the slot and turn it. The knob turns easily, yet there is a very solid, secure feel to it. You can turn it but you can&amp;rsquo;t wiggle it up or down or side to side.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Shopping</title><link>/stories/2007/05/19/shopping/</link><pubDate>Sat, 19 May 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/05/19/shopping/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I have a reasonable selection of rubber, rubber, PVC clothes as well as
a load of normal clothes.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There is a store in the high street that sells
rubber etc and normal fashion stuff. It is always busy, people buying
both types and lots of people moving around in underwear. I needed a new
dress for a rubber ball that was coming up, so one Saturday I went to buy
one. I wore to the store very tight leather trousers, ankle boots, a
low-cut top and a very nice bra.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Ultimate in Helplessness</title><link>/stories/2007/04/04/the-ultimate-in-helplessness/</link><pubDate>Wed, 04 Apr 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/04/04/the-ultimate-in-helplessness/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;img alt="ultimate helplessness" loading="lazy" src="ultimate_helplessness.jpg"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Many years ago I was attending a five-week course in southern Virginia.  Because it would be so long and motel rooms get to me in a few days, I rented a little kitchenette in an old motel out on Old Highway 1.  In addition to greater convenience and size, it also provided privacy; none of my classmates wanted to go &amp;ldquo;clear out there&amp;rdquo;.  The latter is probably the real reason I stayed there.  It wasn&amp;rsquo;t fancy but with maid service every Saturday morning, it was clean and very private.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Alicia's Birthday Treat</title><link>/stories/2007/03/12/alicias-birthday-treat/</link><pubDate>Mon, 12 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/03/12/alicias-birthday-treat/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Alicia gives me a piece of candy. The next thing I
realize, I am only 4&amp;quot; tall and looking straight up at a beautiful monument.
She picks me up and hides me in her lunchbox, telling me she&amp;rsquo;s taking me home to
celebrate her birthday. She gets me home and tells me to strip.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I tell her to go
to hell, bitch.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Wrong move!!!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The next thing I know I am picked up in front of
her huge staring face. She blows her hot breath on me and then starts pulling
my clothes off with her teeth as I am kicking and pounding at her lips in
complete terror, begging her not to eat me. She stops and stares at me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Oysters</title><link>/stories/2007/03/12/oysters/</link><pubDate>Mon, 12 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/03/12/oysters/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;He followed her into the living room where she instructed him to turn
around. She carefully placed the handcuffs on him and squeezed them tight,
when he complained that they were a little too tight, she smiled squeezed
them a little tighter and said,&amp;ldquo;Relax.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She then produced a colorful scarf
and proceeded to bind his feet. Sitting him down on the couch she turned
and said she would be right back, then quickly disappeared into the
kitchen.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Oysters</title><link>/stories/2007/03/12/oysters/</link><pubDate>Mon, 12 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/03/12/oysters/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;He followed her into the living room where she instructed him to turn
around. She carefully placed the handcuffs on him and squeezed them tight,
when he complained that they were a little too tight, she smiled squeezed
them a little tighter and said,&amp;ldquo;Relax.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She then produced a colorful scarf
and proceeded to bind his feet. Sitting him down on the couch she turned
and said she would be right back, then quickly disappeared into the
kitchen.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>One Damp Night</title><link>/stories/2007/03/06/one-damp-night/</link><pubDate>Tue, 06 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/03/06/one-damp-night/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;So, one damp night I had my share of drinks&amp;hellip;so what, right?
Well, that is what I thought, as I lay in this black plastic bag, sealed at the top with a twist tie, then knotted above that. What the hell was I thinking, knowing I had to get up so early. (Thinking to myself), if I ever get out of this, alive, I will never take another drink, as long as I live.
I guess I should start at the beginning. I was sitting at the bar minding my own business, eating some bar nuts in between beers. There were some people on stage using vacuums with regular black plastic bags, suffocating guys that anted up the $120. What a waste of money&amp;hellip; that could go for some nice shoes, or a nice dinner with a babe. No, they wasted it by being semi-suffocated, although some of the girls really looked as if they were taking it to the final level. A few of the guys were thrashing inside their deflated bags, enough to where you could see their eye profiles, and teeth. The bags were so tight, they were literally sucking bag in instead of air, and it looked they were really struggling because the bags were holding their limbs so tight.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fantasy or Reality?</title><link>/stories/2007/02/22/fantasy-or-reality/</link><pubDate>Thu, 22 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/02/22/fantasy-or-reality/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Fantasy or Reality ? A short description of some simple latex and bondage fun.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Saturday night is our night for indulging our sexual fantasies. We have been
sexual partners for many years and we have tried many things. I learned that
my favorite fantasies involved latex clothing and bondage. So this is a
description of one of those fantasies (or is it reality?).&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This past Saturday was my turn and we start early. I tell her to undress in
front of me, which she does with great skill. I resist the temptation to jump
her right there as I have more interesting plans for the evening.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fiona's Unexpected Homecoming</title><link>/stories/2007/02/02/fionas-unexpected-homecoming/</link><pubDate>Fri, 02 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/02/02/fionas-unexpected-homecoming/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jack was really excited about the fun he and his wife Karen were going to have this afternoon when she got home from work. It was a little after 1pm and he had the two cups of chocolate pudding prepared with the rainbow sprinkles on top. With only this afternoon and evening left before his stepdaughter Fiona got home from college for summer break, he planned to make it count with Karen.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fiona's Unexpected Homecoming</title><link>/stories/2007/02/02/fionas-unexpected-homecoming/</link><pubDate>Fri, 02 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/02/02/fionas-unexpected-homecoming/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jack was really excited about the fun he and his wife Karen were going to have this afternoon when she got home from work. It was a little after 1pm and he had the two cups of chocolate pudding prepared with the rainbow sprinkles on top. With only this afternoon and evening left before his stepdaughter Fiona got home from college for summer break, he planned to make it count with Karen.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dream Latex Catsuit</title><link>/stories/2006/07/14/dream-latex-catsuit/</link><pubDate>Fri, 14 Jul 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/07/14/dream-latex-catsuit/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Just a little thing I dreamed up&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I tried the same door I&amp;rsquo;ve tried every day since I&amp;rsquo;ve been
staying in
this big old house. The knob didn&amp;rsquo;t turn but the door wasn&amp;rsquo;t
shut
tight. One quick shove and it opened. I guess my hostess didn&amp;rsquo;t
pull
the door tight when she left this morning. I figure she won&amp;rsquo;t
be back
for another four hours so I might as well take a quick peek.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Garbage Day</title><link>/stories/2006/02/17/garbage-day/</link><pubDate>Fri, 17 Feb 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/02/17/garbage-day/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;She met me at the door of her apartment. Dressed in leather pants and a
leather top with black leather riding boots, she looked down on me with
contempt in her eyes. &amp;ldquo;Enter,&amp;rdquo; she told me. I followed her to the
back room. She sat on her ottoman and ordered me to strip.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After several verbal assaults on my body, she told me to
kneel in front of her and lick her boots. After several minutes of boot
licking, she rose and commanded me to remain on the floor. She returned
wearing a 10 inch black dildo strapped to her waist. I gasped and starred at
the massive phallus. Sensing the terror in my eyes she laughed and said,
&amp;ldquo;You&amp;rsquo;ll take every inch of it.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Taking Out the Trash</title><link>/stories/2006/02/17/taking-out-the-trash/</link><pubDate>Fri, 17 Feb 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/02/17/taking-out-the-trash/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This story is from my side of the bag. The victim could be anyone of you, but it&amp;rsquo;s me who is doing the bagging!
You hear the knock at the door, as your heart begins to race. You&amp;rsquo;ve waited for this all day, and now the moment has arrived. You open the door to find me standing there wearing the tightest pair of black leather pants you&amp;rsquo;ve seen, a tight white t-shirt that reveals my perky breasts, and skintight leather gloves.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fun Day</title><link>/stories/2005/11/05/fun-day/</link><pubDate>Sat, 05 Nov 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/11/05/fun-day/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Well today was a fun day. My ex girlfriend who moved away several
years ago was back in town and called me up to see if I wanted to play.
Of course I did. So here is one of the games we played.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jessica came over about 9:00 with a knock at my door. I was ready
and waiting for her. I opened the door and invited her in.
She walked in and we made small talk for about an hour or so, catching
up on what we have been doing.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Angelina</title><link>/stories/2005/11/01/angelina/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Nov 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/11/01/angelina/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This is how it felt to be Angela.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You were the center of his life, the sunshine in his universe. You were
what he lived for. For you, his love and care had no end.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And for you, the feelings were the same. You felt so loyal, so loving
to your spouse, the man you had shared your life with for the past six
years. Your love was an endless spring that would never dry up.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Angelina</title><link>/stories/2005/11/01/angelina/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Nov 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/11/01/angelina/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This is how it felt to be Angela.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You were the center of his life, the sunshine in his universe. You were
what he lived for. For you, his love and care had no end.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And for you, the feelings were the same. You felt so loyal, so loving
to your spouse, the man you had shared your life with for the past six
years. Your love was an endless spring that would never dry up.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>It's a Wrap!</title><link>/stories/2004/04/30/its-a-wrap/</link><pubDate>Fri, 30 Apr 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/04/30/its-a-wrap/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;WARNING&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Do &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; try this at home, the story is presented here as a &lt;strong&gt;fantasy only&lt;/strong&gt;,
to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.
It&amp;rsquo;s a Wrap! by Unknown F/m; D/s; latex; domme; saran; wrap; cocoon; breathplay; bag; cons/nc; XX&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He nervously walked up the stone steps to the large Victorian house
clutching the letter tightly in his hand. &amp;ldquo;Be here a 1pm and don&amp;rsquo;t be late&amp;rdquo;,
it said in bold gold lettering.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Roxanne</title><link>/stories/2004/03/30/roxanne/</link><pubDate>Tue, 30 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/30/roxanne/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I got home from work almost a hour early so that I could lay out the
clothes that I planed on forcing my cunt of a wife to wear for me tonight.
Cynthia doesn&amp;rsquo;t like dressing up one bit, she never has, but she does exactly
what I tell her, or I slap the little slut silly. She would be getting
home from the airport at about 6:00 p.m. and I wanted everything ready
when she walked through the door.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Liz &amp; Phil</title><link>/stories/2004/03/20/liz-phil/</link><pubDate>Sat, 20 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/20/liz-phil/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was to be today that Liz was going to visit me and I could hardly
contain myself. My hand trembled as I took a sip of black coffee; I was
at work as this was a convenient place for us to meet. The phone rang &amp;ldquo;Phil
it&amp;rsquo;s for you&amp;rdquo; Bob said, picking up my phone I mumble into the mouth piece
&amp;ldquo;Phil here&amp;rdquo;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;There&amp;rsquo;s a young lady to see you, I have sent her up&amp;rdquo; said
the receptionist. I had hardly put the phone down when the door opens and
in walks Liz. She is wearing a very smart full-length black coat with a
small scarf around her neck and boots.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>New Arrival</title><link>/stories/2004/03/20/new-arrival/</link><pubDate>Sat, 20 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/20/new-arrival/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;New Arrival by ?
Tina awoke one morning as she always did. She had trained herself to
get up at 5:00, and she had trained herself well, because Jeff didn&amp;rsquo;t like
alarm clocks and if Tina didn&amp;rsquo;t wake up right on schedule she&amp;rsquo;d receive
three lashes for every minute she was off. She slowly climbed out of bed,
careful not to wake Jeff. Her wrists were bonded securely to her thighs,
and her ankles were held together with a 6-inch chain, but she could still
move around with mild mobility. She had practiced this often. She went
to the corner, where the time-lock safe would open at exactly 5:01. It
did, and she carefully reached in and picked up the key that was inside
with her mouth. After another five minutes of careful work, she was able
to free herself from her bonds.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Didi's Story</title><link>/stories/2004/03/10/didis-story/</link><pubDate>Wed, 10 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/10/didis-story/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Didi&amp;rsquo;s Story by ?
Death and the wind kissed in the treetops and showered me with a golden
rain of falling leaves as I hurried down Rue Des Halles for yet another
last minute business meeting. At least I was spending a cold, late autumn
weekend in Paris. The sun was beginning to set, hunching shouldered people
scurrying past me, the light falling fast as I entered my hotel lobby which
was basking in a soft velvety glow cast from the magnificent chandeliers
above. I had such a chill in my bone as the concierge handed me the key
to my suite. I couldn&amp;rsquo;t wait to get to my room and open my &amp;lsquo;special&amp;rsquo; suitcase.
In a romantic city like Paris, one must always be prepared.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Laura</title><link>/stories/2003/12/05/laura/</link><pubDate>Fri, 05 Dec 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/12/05/laura/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The truth finally got Laura&amp;rsquo;s attention. She didn&amp;rsquo;t
know how long she had been struggling with the damned handcuffs. She couldn&amp;rsquo;t
get herself out of them! Why had she been doing such a stupid thing? They
were too tight and she didn&amp;rsquo;t have a chance, making the key fit in the
lock. Oh, what a misery! If it only had been the cuffs, she could have
called 911 and made up a story about something, but she had gagged herself
with a ball-gag harness before cuffing her wrists behind her back. She
thought it would be easy to unlock them, but she obviously was wrong!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Laura</title><link>/stories/2003/12/05/laura/</link><pubDate>Fri, 05 Dec 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/12/05/laura/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The truth finally got Laura&amp;rsquo;s attention. She didn&amp;rsquo;t
know how long she had been struggling with the damned handcuffs. She couldn&amp;rsquo;t
get herself out of them! Why had she been doing such a stupid thing? They
were too tight and she didn&amp;rsquo;t have a chance, making the key fit in the
lock. Oh, what a misery! If it only had been the cuffs, she could have
called 911 and made up a story about something, but she had gagged herself
with a ball-gag harness before cuffing her wrists behind her back. She
thought it would be easy to unlock them, but she obviously was wrong!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Short Test</title><link>/stories/2003/10/12/a-short-test/</link><pubDate>Sun, 12 Oct 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/10/12/a-short-test/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This story sent to me
by Rubbersheep, thank you for sending it in.
If you are the author of
this story, please let me know
&lt;strong&gt;A Short Test&lt;/strong&gt;
by ?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Retrieving his Travelcard from the barrier, Mike walked smartly out
of the Underground station and began hurrying along the busy North London
shopping street, glancing occasionally at the map he had pulled from his
pocket. After had what seemed to be an interminably long drawn out application
process during which he had had to submit several articles and a dummy
feature and attend one interview already, he was now on his way to the
final interview that would decide whether he got the job as staff writer
on one of the most well known fetish magazines. After a series of disappointing
and short-lived posts, which had even seen him reporting on trade fairs
for the pet food industry, he was now on the verge of the sort of job he
had dreamed of since he had become a journalist&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>An Autumn Night</title><link>/stories/2003/10/12/an-autumn-night/</link><pubDate>Sun, 12 Oct 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/10/12/an-autumn-night/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This story sent to me
by Rubbersheep, thank you for sending it in.
If you are the author of
this story, please let me know
&lt;strong&gt;An Autumn Night&lt;/strong&gt;
by ?
An Autumn Night Rubbersheep&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She always asked herself, typing away at her Mac, how many other people
thought, like her, of the of the other meaning of the word. Usually it
was the other meaning that occupied most of her thoughts. She had managed
to write the instructions using the computer. Dry, precise, with a wealth
of details that always thrilled her as she wrote, recreating the situations
and images of her desires. The scene was detailed, the movements repeated
often, but she had introduced innovations whose boldness still surprised
her. It was to be this Friday evening. The night of Parisian evenings out,
when all was discretion itself. More thrilling than Saturday, which was
too rowdy. She still hesitated; grand hotel or seedy. Both had their spice.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Invisible Rubber</title><link>/stories/2003/04/14/invisible-rubber/</link><pubDate>Mon, 14 Apr 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/04/14/invisible-rubber/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;If
you are the author to this story - please let me know.
Invisible Rubber by Unknown
INVISIBLE RUBBER A story from Kinky
magazine #9    (1976)
My outfit which, as I have told you previously is now
a partnership, makes not only items which may be generally classified as
bondage equipment, but also a wide range of rubber clothes. We have a Fashion
Department, making the &amp;ldquo;frillies&amp;rdquo; for which there is always a demand even
though because of continually rising labor and material costs prices are
so high that I am ashamed of them! Only five years ago, I could provide
a complete outfit of black rubber stockings and garterbelt, small briefs,
bra, miniskirt and long-sleeved shirt-waister to retail for about $50.
Today the retail price for exactly the same outfit would be around $120.
The only difference is that on the $120 price I make less net profit than
I used to at $50! It&amp;rsquo;s a hard world!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Basement</title><link>/stories/2002/12/20/basement/</link><pubDate>Fri, 20 Dec 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/12/20/basement/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The lipstick was the hardest thing to get right; Jane tried to get the
mix of cupid&amp;rsquo;s bow and match for her own lips three times. Finally, she
was able to stand away from the makeup 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 forward. Smouldering was the right description. Four inch
heeled black court shoes made her smooth, fit legs seem impossibly long
in the black, seamed silk stockings. Her pale skin shone out above the
tops, drawing the eye to her groin, cupped in a tight leather g-string
with small studs let into the edge. It had taken her some time to remove
excess pubic hair, which had peeked indecently around the edges of the
g-string. Now, it&amp;rsquo;s tightness showed only in the slight bulge in the gusset,
and in her elevated heartbeat.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Lone Girl's Latex Enclosure</title><link>/stories/2002/10/07/a-lone-girls-latex-enclosure/</link><pubDate>Mon, 07 Oct 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/10/07/a-lone-girls-latex-enclosure/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A
Lone Girl&amp;rsquo;s Latex Enclosure by Unknown Author
Funny, she thought as she
sat on the side of the bed, carefully pulling on a pair of glossy pantyhose.
Funny, how the overwhelming feeling to enclose yourself in tight, black,
shiny latex clothes, suddenly comes over you without a warning. She kept
on thinking, there’s no point in resisting it either. One can’t stand against
it more than a day, at the most. As the evening arrived, she went in to
the closet to fetch the boxes containing the tools of the forbidden fetishes.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jody Rubber Tease</title><link>/stories/2002/10/07/jody-rubber-tease/</link><pubDate>Mon, 07 Oct 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/10/07/jody-rubber-tease/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jody
Rubber Tease Author: Anonymous
Jody had just received the
anxiously anticipated phone call from Jack. &amp;ldquo;The dress had arrived!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A wanton smile engulfed her
pretty face as she thought back to that day several weeks ago when her
erotic adventure with Jack began.  It started like many other days.
She had gone next door to ask or borrow or something now long gone from
her memory. Jack had answered the door, sheepishly shielding all but his
face behind it. As she gave him a big &amp;lsquo;good morning smile&amp;rsquo; and started
to speak she got a fleeting glimpse of his powder blue shorts. The moment
would have passed except that she was sure the material was rubber.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Difficult Walk</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/a-difficult-walk/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/a-difficult-walk/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;First of all I got dressed for the occasion. Since it was fall and
cool, I put on black opaque pantyhose, a black satin mini skirt, and a
dark silk jersey turtle-neck top.  For shoes, I chose a pair of four-inch
high heeled pumps. These had instep straps that would ensure that they
would not slip off as I walked.  I then drove over across town after
sundown and put the keys to my handcuffs and to my legcuffs in a film can
and put them at the base of a tree that could be easily identified in the
dark. This tree was at the edge of a park.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Friendly Wager</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/a-friendly-wager/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/a-friendly-wager/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Karen twisted her neck, but still couldn&amp;rsquo;t see
the knots that bound her wrists tightly behind the chair. Connie had done
a thorough job and there was no hope for escape. Karen&amp;rsquo;s wrists were bound
palm to palm, cinched, and anchored to the front rung of the chair she
sat on. Her ankles were tied to the back legs of the chair and a rope around
her waist held her tight against the chair back. No, she would be here
until Connie decided otherwise. Karen sighed and wondered aloud &amp;ldquo;How did
I get in this position? Tied to a chair in my best friend&amp;rsquo;s party room
wearing only my bra and panties, with Connie in her bedroom watching TV.&amp;rdquo;
She relaxed, what else was there to do, and thought about the events leading
up to her current predicament.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Boys will be Boys</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/boys-will-be-boys/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/boys-will-be-boys/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story about a male scarf bondage which shows how  men will always
be boys who like to play&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Self bondage&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It all started when I was a kid and I liked to be blindfolded during
the blind man&amp;rsquo;s bluff game, then I started to blindfold myself at home
with my mothers scarves and wonder around the house. And the scarves&amp;hellip;
there were so many of them. Then I wanted to find out how is it to be gagged
as I have seen on TV all that were kidnapped were blindfolded and gagged.
Those were the silk scarves and it was all a bit unstable on my head and
then I added the headscarf to keep the blindfold and gag in place. So what
to do with other scarves?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cassandra's New Start</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/cassandras-new-start/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/cassandras-new-start/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This story
is the property of the author. Download or repost it if you like, as long
as it&amp;rsquo;s free . It contains adult themes, including bondage, submission,
and spanking, which may offend some people. Please do not read this story
if you don&amp;rsquo;t like that kind of thing.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Cassandra was 26,  and had been married for
two years. She enjoyed sex with her husband Michael, but she had never
told him about her fantasies of being tied up.  Somehow, she couldn&amp;rsquo;t
imagine him understanding, and she didn&amp;rsquo;t want him to think he&amp;rsquo;d married
some kind of pervert. Since she was a little girl, a warm wave of excitement
would wash through her when she played cowboys and indians with her friends
and the boys roped her to a tree, or when the heroines in TV shows like
Charlie&amp;rsquo;s Angels were bound and gagged by the bad guys.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Lesbian Bondage games</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/lesbian-bondage-games/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/lesbian-bondage-games/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;*
I&amp;rsquo;m involved in the most passionate affair of my life. It takes place
every day at lunch. You see, my lover and I work together at the same company
and  each day, we go over to her apartment for lunch. Instead of eating
lunch  though, we make love. I can&amp;rsquo;t think of anything I like more
than her tasty  pussy and her luscious  tits. We do see each
other after hours and on weekends, but for some reason, the  lunch
time sex seems sweeter and more intense. I mean, on a Saturday, we 
can spend hours and hours in bed, licking and sucking each other until
we  can&amp;rsquo;t move, and that is wonderful. But during the week, when we
only have  an hour or so, it&amp;rsquo;s like we&amp;rsquo;re in heat the minute we get
in the door.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mary’s Self Bondage Night</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/marys-self-bondage-night/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/marys-self-bondage-night/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Care should be taken with the use of Candles as described in this story due to the fire hazard! Also the depiction of the type of self bondage used is intended for it&amp;rsquo;s fantasy element and should not be used as it may cause injury or black outs/fainting.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Mary was into bondage, allright! She hadn&amp;rsquo;t yet
been tied-up by a master, but she used to practice self-bondage from time
to time. Mary was 23 years old, single, blond, with firm and big tits,
and a hot voluptuous body. She was very proud of it.
She had been interested in bondage for many years, but hadn&amp;rsquo;t shared her
kinky secrets with anybody, because she was afraid to end up with the wrong
guy. She was now ready for 3 hours of strict selfbondage.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Modelling Assignment</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/modelling-assignment/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/modelling-assignment/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Modelling Assignment by Unknown FF/ff; latex; pvc; sack; cons; XThis
story sent to me by Rubbersheep, thank you for sending it in.
If you are the author of this story,
please let me know&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Monica Brown sat behind her desk in the offices of the modelling agency
she owned. She was in her middle 30’s, tall and raven-haired. She called in
Susan, her secretary, when she had been through the post and handed her one of
the letters to which was attached a brochure:&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sally</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/sally/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/sally/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Mmmpppfff&amp;rdquo; was the only sound Sally could make
as she strained to move another few inches across the rug.  The way
her mouth was gagged prevented her from saying anything other than some
very muffled grunts. She was sweating quite a bit now - after all, she
had been in this predicament for a little better than two hours now, and
she still had a good way to go before she could reach the kitchen and her
escape knife.  She stopped to give her aching muscles a rest and to
give her raw feeling skin a respite from the carpet.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Self Bondage Stretch</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/self-bondage-stretch/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/self-bondage-stretch/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It all began on a Friday. Everyone was away for
the weekend and I had the house to myself. I had been preparing for this
for weeks and the anticipation was growing by the minute. I do really enjoy
the feeling of tight restraint, loss of sight, of hearing and speech. Today
I would be in self-bondage for about seven hours. I have spent a considerable
amount of time and thought in coming up with methods of self-restraint
that are inescapable, yet will release me after a time.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Self Bound</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/self-bound/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/self-bound/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;*
&lt;strong&gt;Self Bound&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A very special package arrived for me today, it
was a small package but the weight told me that it was what I  had
been waiting anxiously for.  With trembling hands I set it beside
my bed and prepared for work.  All day long I imagined what that evening
would be like, I even imagined some of the men that I work with as the
one who would place the items in the package upon me. This, of course,
was not to be but the fantasies helped make the day pass quickly and as
quitting time approached I found myself almost trembling at the mere thought
of what was to come.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tanya</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tanya/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tanya/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I had been dating Tanya for over six months, during that time we had
tried several sessions which involved bondage but tonight was going to
be different. Tanya had asked me to meet her at a house belonging to one
of her girlfriends at 8pm that evening. As I rang the doorbell my heart
pounded wondering why she had asked to meet at her friends house. Knowing
how playful Tanya could be, I was very wary about this meeting, as Tanya
had a knack for springing surprises on me, but before I had any more time
to contemplate her motives the door open and literally my jaw hit the ground,
in front of me was Tanya dressed from head to toe in a body hugging cat
suit. I first thought the suit was latex because of the sheen from it’s
surface but as I approached and hugged her I smelled the smell of leather,
abruptly she pushed me inside brushing away my embrace.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trust</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/trust/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/trust/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;*&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Do you trust me?&amp;rdquo; He asked, out of the blue.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The were reading in the living room, each lost in their own book. She
nodded, glancing up at him. &amp;ldquo;Of course I do! You know that.&amp;rdquo; She looked
puzzled. &amp;ldquo;Why do you ask?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Oh, ah&amp;hellip; no particular reason.&amp;rdquo; He smiled. &amp;ldquo;Just curious.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Your curiosity concerns me.&amp;rdquo; She said, but she was smiling. &amp;ldquo;I worry
about what goes on in that clever mind of yours.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Washing Machine</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/washing-machine/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/washing-machine/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Most of the regulars here already know how badly I&amp;rsquo;ve always wanted to
be laundered in a washing machine and clothes dryer. My girlfriend
has been using me as her ironing board every week for the past year. 
That&amp;rsquo;s been incredible, but the experience has just made me crave to
be put into a washing machine even more&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;ve been very candid with my girlfriend about this fantasy (fetish?),
and she&amp;rsquo;s remarkably agreeable. She seems to honestly enjoy ironing
on me, and she&amp;rsquo;s always been very open to the idea of washing me with
her laundry.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>