Zeedrot

Love. Love is a heavy thing. It suffocates you. Weighs on your soul. Suffuses your body. Melts down into your bones. Or, that at least was what Zoya was thinking as she drifted through the station’s control room alone. She checked her neural net to see the status of mining operations. 143,245 active units, with only two percent working below the company’s acceptable threshold. Well within the margins. With work going fine, her mind wandered back to the thing consuming her lately, that oppressive thing, love, and its most recent avatar in her life, a coworker by the name of Dren Cross. ...

There was a discerning gaze emanating from coach Amelia Emerson as she watched one of her athletes, Sarah House, line up for what would be the last vault on the day. Last weekend, her team had been destroyed at a meet after nearly every single one of her athletes had one disaster after the other on both the vault and beam. Step outs, falls, etc. the deductions had mounted in rapid succession for every member of the team. ...

Being a superhero could be a tiring and draining job, physically and mentally. And right now, as she glided down towards the bank where a robbery was happening, it was the latter strain vexing Samantha, better known to the world as Crimson Nova. With her super hearing she could clock the distant approaching sirens of the local police. She’d beaten them here, which was par for the course. It helped she was already responding to an escaped convict, who seemingly had not only broken out of custody not twenty minutes ago, but was now in the process of attempting to rob the bank below. Even now, she could also hear the muffled voice in the bank reminding the civilians inside to hush. It was an all too familiar slightly nasally voice, Sadistica’s. ...

A nervous flutter rumbled in Kristine’s stomach, or perhaps a more proper description was crippling anxiety. She gripped the doorknob to her bedroom, ready to plunge back in. For the past two hours she had been teasing, tormenting, and otherwise giving her wife everything her submissive heart could desire. For the last thirty minutes, she had left her blindfolded, gagged, and suspended in a bowstring hogtie from their ceiling while she waited just outside their door. Kristine had monitored her wife’s muffled whimpers through the door to play a fun game of teasing her just shy of an orgasm. ...

Part 4 – Decisions Stone floors really weren’t made to be slept on, Catherine thought for perhaps the thousandth time on the night. Still, with how sleep deprived and exhausted she was, she should be asleep by now. It had been at least a few hours since Lia left her chained to the wall in this tiny stone room filled with the devices of her nightmares and dreams. In the total blackness of her cell, her mind roiled with turmoil. Thoughts crashing in violent waves across her mind. ...

Part 3 – Hard Labour Catherine grunted as she hefted another sodding river stone into the wooden cart. Lia hadn’t been joking when she warned there would be hard labour today. For the past few hours, Catherine sweated and toiled under the summer sun, loading large rocks from a pile laying beside a decaying stone wall. It wasn’t some magnificent castle wall, though. No, the small old structure she had willingly been held prisoner in by the younger German woman didn’t have grandiose stone ramparts. Outside of the gatehouse, the walls were actually wooden, in fact. A reproduction of what had once been there. ...

Part 2 – A Longer Stay Even after hours like this, it was still so strange to Catherine to have her eyes wide open, but to see absolutely nothing. The darkness made time twist. She knew she had been here for quite a while, but there was no way for her to actually know how long it had been since Lia left, since she was left to live out her fantasy of being a prisoner suffering in a dungeon. The hours had been both the best and worst that Catherine thought she had ever endured in her 31 years among the living. ...

Part 1 Standing outside a castle in Germany on a warm summer day, Catherine couldn’t wait for the scheduled tour. She stood with a group of maybe fifteen others by the gates though she highly doubted anyone here was excited in the same way she was. Catherine had visited an untold number of European castles and manors over the years to indulge in a particularly peculiar pastime of hers. She came to these places not for the architecture or the history, though often she did find such things fairly interesting. No, she came to these places to satisfy her need for a very specific fantasy. Since as far back as she could remember, Catherine had been enraptured by medieval dungeons and torture devices. ...

Part 3 Okay, Athena, this is really happening. Fuck! Her mind raced, trying to understand the night, Jules, and even her own actions. She knew she was too emotional to really start a play session. She, and probably Jules, needed to calm down a bit. But that gag, the corset, the way the leather hugged that beautiful idiot’s face, a face that still left her feeling a little angry, to be truthful. Anger and BDSM play are a bad combination, she reminded herself. She needed to let everything settle, to see if she could get into a more appropriate headspace. ...

Part 2 Darkness enveloped Juliette in more ways than one. The sensory deprivation hood locked on by her own hand provided the literal darkness. But there was a deeper, purer ichor at her core. The blackness that consumed her soul. The melancholy of the past decade blending with the yawning maw of excitement and fear for what lay ahead tonight. This was the ultimate moment of truth. Eleven years of planning. Eleven years of plotting and hard work to lead to this moment. Eleven years of painful misery fashioned by her across two entwined souls. She dreaded and yearned for this moment. Either her plan succeeded tonight and she could begin to atone for the anguish she created for the woman she so dearly loved, or it failed and she still atoned in a very different way. At this point, having bound herself and locked her restraints on, she had no other option than to await whatever outcome came from her labors. Wait here in a sex shop dressing room. It was beyond absurd, the rational part of her mind reminded her. Don’t overthink this, just embrace it, the irrational side of her brain countered. ...

Part 1 The store’s chime went off as the elderly Mr. Greenfield shuffled out. Athena watched the pensioner scurry away, likely her last paying customer of the evening. Mr. Greenfield was a regular, twice a month customer, and always late at night. He had to be pushing 80, but clearly his libido was still intact. Mrs. Greenfield was a lucky woman, mused the goth store clerk. She tapped at her phone, glancing at the time. Just over twenty minutes to close. With tired eyes, she looked up at the only remaining patrons, though she hardly wanted to use the term. It was a couple, barely out of their teens. They had spent the last forty minutes giggling, ogling, and laughing at everything in the sex shop. Athena let an exasperated sigh rattle from deep within her. She was too fucking tired for this. She’d stayed up all night finishing a freelance piece for some obscure blog. It was a bunch of drivel she had written, but it paid, and thus helped keep the lights on. Oh, the woes of a struggling writer. ...

The small hovel of a home echoed with faint tapping noises as its lone occupant, Igraine, worked away at securing new soles to the weathered but well-made boots on her workbench. Being the only cobbler for quite a distance, Iggy, as most people knew her, stayed busy with repairs and new commissions for all the surrounding villages. She hammered in the last tacking nail, then reclined back in her chair, stretching. She let her mind wander a bit in the quiet solitude. ...

This was so stupid, this absurdity made real. Why am I watching and waiting on this pointless predicament? Colleen fumed to herself. She had been sitting and stewing here for far too long. She tried again to distract herself with her phone, but inevitably her thoughts turned back to rage and frustration. Her eyes drifted to her trussed up friend, Amber. The two had been friends for years, helping each other indulge in their predicament bondage and escape games. ...

Nora’s legs and feet ached horribly, and it wasn’t much better for her wrists or neck to be honest. She had no way of knowing exactly how long she’d been in her self-bondage predicament, but it had to be quite a while, and that terrified her. Not because of the length of her bondage or that anything had gone wrong. No, it was because of the consequence she had set for herself if she failed to escape within an hour. Her selected punishment for failure terrified her in a deep and primal way, but that was the point. She got a hell of an adrenaline kick when she had a predicament to work against, and today’s certainly classified in her mind. ...

The automatic door hissed faintly as Addison entered her apartment. The slight screech of metal on metal told her that her roommate had indeed not reported the issue to maintenance. She sighed realizing she would have to take care of it again. Tameryn was a less-than-ideal roommate and coworker. Still, Tameryn had been kind enough to show Addison around when she had taken the promotion that brought her here to Moreland Station. ...

2 – Picking Up the Pace Heart pounding, breath ragged, legs fading, music blaring. Zoey could tell she had pushed herself too much. Her body was screaming at her to give up, to give out. It had been an eternity since she had last felt this way. Can’t stop, she told herself. She keyed the metal music in her ear up again, a beep indicating it wouldn’t go any louder. Frankly, it was probably already blowing out her eardrum anyways, but she needed something to push her the last quarter mile. Something to carry her to the familiar place on the trail that always caused her anxiety. Usually, it was that faint fear of something bad happening to her, a predator, human or animal, springing from the dense underbrush. Today though, the spot carried a different weight. A mocking, self-doubting voice prodded Zoey’s conscious mind laughing at her foolishness. It told her she had let her kinky thoughts get the better of her, and some poor woman named Tara was paying the price. This had been such a bad idea. It was too unsafe, and with her years of disciplined self-bondage, she should have known better, but the situation had been too tempting. ...

Part 2 Jo stood wiping away a bit of sweat on her brow. Damn, it’s getting hot in here already, she thought. She snickered to herself at the double meaning, followed by a small twinge of worry when thinking about how warm Laura must be under the duct tape. Jolene’s hazel eyes locked on the bound woman on the bed. After the disaster that was the cream, Jo had held Laura’s bent and bound body in a long embrace. She had even rested her head on the distressed woman’s back. The maintenance woman blushed at the intimate moment shared with the little bondage freak, and the feelings it enkindled in her. Jo’s ear had pressed to a curved back where she’d heard a racing erratic heartbeat slow in time, felt ragged breaths even. Jo had even noticed the faint scent of pomegranate mingled among the strong smell of sweat. It had been so…intoxicating. She had wanted to stay there, feeling every twitch, groan, and breath. Eventually though, she had torn herself away, reapplying the foam hearing protection and covering it in layers of duct tape, again sealing away Laura’s senses. ...

Cora’s head rested on the door to her house. She was mentally fried. For an accountant, tax season sucked, like sucked on a higher plane of suckitude kind of sucked. It didn’t help that Suzanne had fucked up the account for one of the firm’s biggest clients, and Cora had to spend the last day of the season straightening that clusterfuck. She had of course, but it had been by the skin of her teeth. She lightly banged her head on the closed door to her house. She looked forward to some downtime, and specifically some much needed time with her wife. ...

Crisp autumn air brushed against Rene’s cheeks. She stood outside her coworker’s middle-class two-story home. She had already rung the doorbell, but her heart was still racing. If anything, it had sped up. In truth, she found her friend from work, Yvette, so alluring. She wanted to be more than friends, so Rene was still coping with the fact she had been asked to Yvette’s house for dinner. It was part of a fantasy come true. Of course, she knew the other part of her fantasy, wild raunchy sex with the slightly older woman wouldn’t be on the menu. ...

The bustling street in the artisan district of the city was a kaleidoscope of peoples from around the world. Nearly every species could be found here from elves like Sylvae to full blooded orcs, all darting about buying and selling everything imaginable from across the planes. The diversity here made it relatively easy for Sylvae to blend in and go unnoticed, even with the fiery red hair and metallic golden irises that normally made her stand out in most places. The lithe elven woman stood against the stone wall of an arcanist and tinkerer’s shop, one worn boot flat against the wall, her knee bent. Her static nature was more out of place in this restless place of commerce than her well-worn adventurer’s garb and gilded rapier, or even her physical appearance. ...

The creak of ropes, the clink of handcuffs, all a continuing symphony of Laura’s futile struggles to free herself over the past however many hours it had been. She had no idea of the precise length of her bondage. Her world was set in darkness from the blindfold she had placed there. Time had slipped by without meaning as she enjoyed the biting pressure of ropes lashing her and the predicament she had set for herself. Her escape plan had failed, and now she was genuinely trapped in a web of her own making awaiting her fate. ...

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep… The alarm, muffled though it was by the latex like material covering Rowan’s ears, had been an annoying and incessant companion for the last two hours. It had become a maddening monotonous metronome to the woman’s current plight. This was supposed to have been a rare occasion when the captain of the small cargo ship Ophelia, had the old but faithful cargo hauler all to herself to indulge her personal desires without worry of discovery by her crew. She loved and trusted her crew, but every woman has secrets they don’t want shared, and Rowan River’s appetite for stringent bondage, torment, and predicaments certainly classified as a secret she wanted to hold onto. She loved to feel hopelessly and utterly bound, to be restricted in such a way as to be unable to move. Perhaps it was the result of a life spent crawling around the cramped utility access passages on starships or perhaps it was simply something innate in her. Some might find it odd, but more than that, she feared how her little pastime might undermine her authority with the crew. She worried how the talented team might abandon such a perverse and submissive captain. ...

Part 3 Alex stood in the foyer to her apartment staring at the range of items she had chosen for her plan. She looked back at the message she had typed out to Eris on her phone. With trepidation in her mind she contemplated if she really wanted to go through with this. What if I’m wrong? What if I just read all of the signs the wrong way? What if I just want it to be reciprocated so bad I imagined it? Alex thought to herself. She shook her head. ...

Part 2 Come on Alex, this is it! Get your head in the game, Alex thought, hyping herself up as if she was back playing soccer at university. Her uniform was definitely a bit more revealing this time. She wore the sexiest pair of lacy lingerie she had and her best pair of shiny black high heels, and that’s where the clothing ended. Well, of course except for the bondage gear. Her best leather collar around her neck, a chain lead that ended in a similarly well-made leather handle, draped down her toned stomach. Not quite the six pack she had in college years ago, but still damn good she whistled to herself. Her hands were in soft supple leather cuffs that matched the collar. A short length of chain was padlocked to each cuff and kept her wrists close together behind her back. Another chain around her waist was padlocked to the chain between her wrists, it meant she could only move her hands a couple inches in any direction. That was going to be a real challenge for what she had planned, but she’d cross that bridge shortly. ...

The breeze was a welcome reprieve from the warm air. Zoey’s heart pounded in steady rhythm with her footfalls. This was her favorite running trail. Hardly anyone ever made the drive to come out here, but it was the perfect blend of slight curves, straightaways, and undulating hills. Her running attire, a simple but black and grey set, was a stark contrast to the natural lush greens and soft browns of nature enveloping the trail. Sweat streamed down her face and back in the summer heat. She adjusted her baseball cap to stop another rivulet of her perspiration from reaching her eyes. She focused on the blissful combination of the racing power metal music pounding in her left ear and the steady cadence of her own measured breathing. ...

Well, shit, Alex thought to herself. She had just wanted to indulge in a little stress relief, and now she was panicking and stressing about her chosen stress relief. She let out a long sigh into her gag. Why did I think this was such a good idea? The thought crossed her mind just as the vibrator tied to her pussy started up yet again. “Mmphh!” was all that came out of her throat as the bane of her existence for the last two hours started stimulating her again. The sensation between her legs spurred her tired body back to action. She began feeling around her room with her bare feet, frantically hoping to feel something metallic. All Alex could feel though was the cold wooden floor on her soles and toes. She tried to sweep across swathes of floor quickly, well at least as much as the ankle shackles and hobble chain would allow, desperate to find the errant key that held her in her current predicament. ...

Lyra bit playfully at her bottom lip. She couldn’t help it, the exquisite sight beneath her was transfixing. The elf’s lavender eyes, half closed in pleasure, soaked in the visage of the tightly bound and completely nude knight beneath her chair. The redhaired woman, despite her athletic frame, could barely move in her bonds. Ropes lashed the human knight’s ankles and knees together. Though she couldn’t see it, Lyra knew another three coils of rope held the knight’s arms tightly restrained behind her back. One coil about her wrists. Another cinched just above the woman’s elbows, pulling them close until they painfully touched. The third wrapped around the nude knight’s upper arms and connected to the ropes that the mage had fashioned into a chest harness for her “victim” tonight. The ropes pulling tight around the base of the woman’s breasts causing them to bulge outward. ...

“You’re joking right?” Mariana’s long face seemed to stretch incredulously at her wife’s newest hairbrained and kinky idea. “I mean where do you even come up with this shit?” Mariana dryly mused, half exasperated and half joking. Her petite wife didn’t hesitate, “The internet of course!” Her smile was Cheshire wide, her eyes beaming with excitement. Anne was certainly the more adventurous and kinkier of the two, but Marianna couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief at this one. One would think she would be used to such absurd requests after ten years of marriage to the pint-sized queen of kink. She stood in the entry hall to their house looking down at the excited look on her wife’s face. Mariana knew she would groan and bitch about having to indulge Anne, especially after the sixteen hour shift she just pulled at the hospital, but she also knew despite her protests she would still do it. Her eyes flitted over Anne’s pale and currently nude body. Ten years had done nothing to abate the couple’s libido, and Anne’s insatiable and creative side had a lot to do with it. Marianna’s dark eyes finally pulled away from her love of twelve years, and looked at the “supplies” she had picked up for her request. Bags full of cling film and silver duct tape, and goddamn there was a lot of it. “Did you buy out the whole damn hardware store love?” ...