Hi my name is Laura I am a sub and have been instructed to send some of my reports that incorporate self bondage. I had spent quite some time chatting to another fetlifer Thanatos_s regarding what I could expect if I manage to get to Portland next year. I was getting so turned on by all the possibilities that he can arrange for my trip that by the end of the afternoon I was as horny as hell. I needed to be fucked good and proper. I was getting desperate for it. Hubby was away once again with work and not sure whether he was coming home soon. I know I have a couple of dildos and vibrators but it just doesn’t substitute the real thing. ...

Hi my name is Laura I am a sub and have been instructed to send some of my reports that incorporate self bondage. 23NOV2015 This took a couple of days for my online Master to organise this inconjunction with an old friend of mine who works at the same hospital as I do. My Husband had gone away with his work once again and my new Master organised an encounter with my friend, someone I can really trust as well as an extra friend of his. There was going to be another women but she pulled out at the last minute. My instructions were quite detailed and explicit for the preparation. The time of the encounter had been arranged for 5.00pm. ...

“So, Miss Andrews, you’ve toured our facility and talked to all of our employees. Do you have any other questions?” Jake Brighton asked the young reporter seated in front of him. Jessica Lynn Andrews thought for a moment. She had been assigned by the local newspaper to write a story about Humilk Industries, a local business specializing in producing human breast milk for public consumption. Since a worldwide outbreak of mad cow disease had led to the Great Economic Collapse, milk had been in short supply. Human milk production had begun and with massive unemployment, companies like Humilk had offered women opportunities to escape the Poverty Houses by selling their breast milk. ...

“So, Miss Andrews, you’ve toured our facility and talked to all of our employees. Do you have any other questions?” Jake Brighton asked the young reporter seated in front of him. Jessica Lynn Andrews thought for a moment. She had been assigned by the local newspaper to write a story about Humilk Industries, a local business specializing in producing human breast milk for public consumption. Since a worldwide outbreak of mad cow disease had led to the Great Economic Collapse, milk had been in short supply. Human milk production had begun and with massive unemployment, companies like Humilk had offered women opportunities to escape the Poverty Houses by selling their breast milk. ...

Elise saw the thirtyish blonde in the smart business suit step out a car parked in their driveway. She turned back to the interior of the stable. “Mitch, someone’s here.” A muscular man in his mid-forties, Mitch stopped what he was doing and slipped past his wife at the entrance. “I’ll see what this is about.” As he approached the woman, she flashed a professional smile and held out her hand. In the other hand, she held what appeared to be a personal computer the size of a cell phone. An identification badge hung from a strap around her neck. Even though she wore glasses, and her hair was done up in a severe bun, and her pumps said Business Not Pleasure, she was an attractive woman. ...

Francesca had just cut her way through a metal wire fence guarding the perimeter of an abandoned building. She was a reporter and had been sent some information about a porn shoot happening at the location. She did not want anything to give away her position so had left her phone and torch in her car. Which she had park 3 miles away and it had been well hidden from the road. Moonlight was the only thing letting her see as she put the wire cutters in her pocket. It was a warm clear summer’s night as she moved towards to the building. She had only been given a small amount of information about what was going on. But the story sounded like a gold mine of hard-core porn and something the local people would read about. ...

“Even though ponygirls have been around for decades, nobody has noticed that they have developed their own secret non-verbal language of communication over the years, and that is why I have chosen you as my research assistants for this ground-breaking study.” The three female grad students–blonde Stacee, raven-haired Mirabelle, and redheaded Bronwyn– turned from the female professor to the two dozen ponygirls mingling in the corral before them as they rounded the stable. This was their first real look at the world of female human equines, and their reactions vacillated from fascination to disgust at the naked and leather-tacked women who pranced around in their enclosure. ...

(story continues from The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 4: Christine’s Party) Book 5: David Screws Up I’m not exactly sure what I’ve done. All I know is I’ve done SOMETHING to upset Christine. Cause, now, I find myself trapped, tied up in Jennifer’s now empty personal trash compactor. My mouth is free of a gag, mostly cause Christine knows I won’t call for help. Not that it would do any good anyway. ...

story continues from Wrong Room The last thing Jess remembers was getting attacked by horrible CS gas and a powerful stun gun. She had then been overpowered and forced into bondage by a madman. She was still awake as he put her on the cold and dirty floor of a van and then her mind went blank. Why had she not helped save the girl first time round it would have meant she had never gone back. She would have never been trapped herself and the police would have arrested the freak that had her now. Regret was running through her veins as was anger for her mistake to not just give up and have it easy. Why did she fight him in the end, what did she think would happen. What dream world or fantasy was she living in to think she could escape. It was always going to end like this. ...

Tired to numbness and buzzed from too many shots, Kim walked out of the bar and onto the streets of the city. The sunlight flickered then went out, plunging the city into the eerie twilight of neon and streetlights. She decided to take the long way home, the new way she’d found while looking for a new Chinese restaurant. The old Red Light district was now safe territory thanks to urban renewal. Mom wouldn’t approve, but Kim was too tired to worry about it. Besides, she had her mace. ...

Tired to numbness and buzzed from too many shots, Kim walked out of the bar and onto the streets of the city. The sunlight flickered then went out, plunging the city into the eerie twilight of neon and streetlights. She decided to take the long way home, the new way she’d found while looking for a new Chinese restaurant. The old Red Light district was now safe territory thanks to urban renewal. Mom wouldn’t approve, but Kim was too tired to worry about it. Besides, she had her mace. ...

* Kristen’s Story The Bilbo (Sequel to Igor & Ivan) by Zack Copyright© 2001, 2002._ When I was living in Minnesota my ex-boyfriend tied me up a lot, but since I moved to northern Arizona all of my bondage activities have been do-it-yourself. (Although there was some audience participation in my last outdoor adventure). For that adventure I had made a bilbo. This is a medieval restraint which has U-shaped metal bands that slip over the wrists and ankles and are closed by a bar that fits through holes in the open end of the U. Last time I had fastened each cuff separately, but the traditional usage is to have all of the cuffs attached to a single bar, and this is what I wanted to try next. ...

Each invitation came with a small package. The invitations were sent out in the morning by courier to mobsters throughout Metropolis and the surrounding areas. Each recipient was invited to attend a not-to-be-missed party the next evening. Since the invitation came from Lex Luthor, no one was inclined to miss the party, but the contents of the packages clinched the deal. Each package contained a pair of boxer shorts and, if the mobster had a teenaged son who would be attending, an extra pair for him. The shorts were made of limp, skin-smooth, transparent-white plastic film and came with a note recommending that the recipient wear them under his trousers while he attended the party. ...

There was a new villain plaguing Gotham City, a prankster called Sissyboy. People assumed that he was a protegé of the Joker, because whenever one of his pranks distracted people, the Joker and his henchclowns took advantage of the confusion to pull off one of their capers. It seemed as if Sissyboy could work a strange kind of magic. On one occasion the poles holding streetlights turned to rubber and sagged into the street, blocking traffic. On another occasion the walls of the shower rooms at the Gotham City Country Club turned to the clearest of glass. And during the consequent disruptions the Joker and his crew, cleverly disguised as ordinary people, performed a little magic of their own by making money and jewelry disappear. ...

My nervousness reached a new peak as I waited in the park shelter. The late summer’s day provided a perfect day but I was sweating. The park we had decided on was perfect. My soon-to-be other half waits under the great tree, our guests seated and waiting for my appearance. As the music starts, I start down the aisle. My shoes sink into the deep lawn and a primal part of me wants to run. As my gaze darts around I see that smile. The one that never fails to make me weak at the knees. That smile that I live for. I surrendered myself to that smile, that powerful personality long ago. I focus on that smile, raise my head and manage to make it to the end of the aisle. Today we make things official by making our bond public. ...

NOTE: This story is intended only as a fantasy. It does not condone or endorse such behavior in real life in any way. Do not use without the author’s permission. “And I thought working for Uber was degrading!” Chelsea Handler was facing the camera as a ponygirl pulled a sulky down a dirt path behind her. She was filming a pilot episode for a proposed comedy series, and had decided to be as outrageous as possible. There was a look of mock disapproval on her face, though it was obvious from her attitude that she thought this popular fetish was ridiculous and degrading. Still, sexual quirks were a quick and easy source of comedy material, and a way to place herself above such perversions. She turned and stuck out an arm. “Taxi!” ...

Breathing softly as the drugs faded from my system, I started to return to the land of the living. I had been been partying the night before and this sleepiness was solely from that. A couple of minutes later the drugs had left my blood stream and I started to come round. I flicked my eyes open and was met by a wall size mirror. Through what little vision I had I could just about make out the shape of a person. The penny was not dropping as he tried moving and speaking. Then all of a sudden what I was seeing hit me. The mirror was showing me a image of myself. And oh god I have never seen anything like it. ...

You woke up by the immense lights of the supermarket. You were inside a white plastic wrapper which contained your entire body and there was a transparent part of the plastic in front of your face so you could see a little bit. You were very confused for few minutes but then it all came back to you, how you have ended up in this situation. It began when one day you were sleeping in your bed at home and someone came, woke you up by a slap and injected something to your neck. Long story short, you were kidnapped by a private company that sold human slaves. After one month of brainwashing you were transported to the supermarket, where you are to be sold to anyone who needed a home slave. They injected you with something that made you immobilized and slowed your metabolism so you could stay alive in that plastic for at least 14 days. You felt humiliated, you were nothing more than a product now. ...

Rbrbill Exposed – Journal entries of my journey in rubber for the last several years. Some of these writing were completed while sealed in rubber. I left the errors from glove fumbles or restricted vision as they were posted in my FetLife entries. All of these events true. Backgrounder, A profile of a Rubberist I am a lifelong rubberist. I’ve enjoyed all types of rubber and latex including boots, waders, wetsuits, rain gear (rubber only), gloves and latex clothing. I am a total enclosure lover and enjoy sealing myself in total enclosure whenever I can. ...

Mary was a hard working nurse at the JR hospital in Oxford. She was on her break and going through a huge number emails and text she had just received from an unknown sender. The sender was giving her shocking information about what her boyfriend had been up to over the last 3 weeks. He had been sleeping with another women and lying to her about almost everything. Mary was secretly a sadistic and cruel girl and had come up with a horrible plan of revenge. She had a basement she never used and had money to spare, thanks to her parents. She would wait for the best moment and ruin his life. She finished her shift that night and sent him a text saying she was going to be busy and unable to meet up for a couple of weeks. This would give her some time to get things going. ...