(story continues from Slaviversary 3: Little Boy’s Random Memories Pt 1) 4: Little Boy’s Random Memories Pt 2 I was trying to catch my breath as I lay, still hogtied, on Mistress’s leather clad lap. I was bare from my chest to my knees. Helena had pulled the waists of my sweatpants and shirt in opposite directions so she could tickle me more efficiently, and Mistress had seen no reason to alter that. ...

(story continues from The Therapist Part 4: Kaitlynn’s Take-down) Part 5: Prologue A shadow fell over the table as I sipped my coffee in the local bagel shop. I was between clients and going through my messages and just chillin’. I looked up; a woman stood there holding a cup. I couldn’t see her face; the overhead lighting was right behind her. “May I sit down?” I frowned, resenting the interruption. I needed this time away from the stress of my work. I started to protest, but the woman sat anyway. ...

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a sequel to “Drip, Drip” featuring the same characters. It can be read as a stand-alone story though. STOP YER TICKLING! Will you stop yer tickling, Jock! Oh, stop yer tickling, Jock! Dinna mak’ me laugh so hearty, Or you’ll mak me choke. Oh, I wish you’d stop yer nonsense, Just look at all the folk. Will yer stop yer tic-kle-ing, tic-kle-ic-kle-ing. Stop yer tickling Jock! ...

The knock came at 7:20. The date was for 7:00, but this was Provence after all. Margo left the couch to answer the door. “Bon jour! Bon Jour! Ca va?” The women did the cheek bump, air kiss thing. “Bien. Bien. Et vous?” “Bien, merci.” Margo noticed the guest’s car glistened with rain, sheltered under the portico. She led the guest through the house. The small villa, normally bright and airy with its many windows and white plaster walls, was plunged into darkness. There was no moon that night and the storm clouds made it all the more black. It was a gentle rain, though. A warm, steady, summer rain. The sound of it pattering on the tin roof over the patio echoed in the living room. ...

“James Roderick, rise and face the court.” Moving slowly, the man in prison denim rose, the chains on his cuffs clanking. A tall, well built man, he stood facing the judge. “James Roderick, you stand before us today accused of multiple counts of rape. Before I pronounce my verdict, do you have anything to say?” The prisoner smirked. “I say to hell with you. I didn’t do anything to any woman that she didn’t secretly want. All women are sluts. They’ll take sex any time, any place, and any way it’s offered. I just happen to be man enough to give them what they really want. So judge me and be damned.” ...

In the early afternoon C. called from the airport to tell that she had safely landed. I asked if she would like me to pick her up from the station, but she had different plans. “Put on a rubber suit and a blindfold and wait for me in the bedroom.” She had spent a few days in England with our daughter and her friend. It had been just long enough to build up a desire for her, that popped up when she spoke those promising words. ...

(story continues from Femmi Weed) Original Femmiweed Story here I stood in line at the grocery store with some much needed things for my empty fridge, and as I waited I looked at the tabloids and their outlandish cover pictures. The best one had a rather ordinary looking college aged boy, and next to him was a voluptuous young woman that kind of reminded me of the secretary that caught my husband’s eye last year. I couldn’t blame her too much for stealing my charming man, and for him I eventually felt pity, but after my seething rage cooled. While she was every man’s dream, she WAS every other man’s dream as well, and I just knew one would steal her away from my former husband when his cash ran out. ...

I am Melissa, I am 22 from New York, I married my childhood sweetheart Aaron a year ago, We both like really kinky play and try and push the extremes, We are both into rubber, bondage, encasement among other things. We had been thinking for a while about what our next adventure would be. I was always the one getting tied up, and Aaron’s extensive mechanical background made him the perfect person to create the situations. ...

I had not seen my mistress for some time as we both had obligations to fulfill for the holidays, and our last encounter had left me quite exhausted anyway, so it was just as well. (see my story Rubber Gloves) I had done a lot of surfing and found an amazing number of sites that offered photos, illustrations, and even custom videos, but had little time to view them when I went back to work. ...

(story continues from Betrayal Chapter 9: Insomniac Sleeping Beauty) Part Ten Chapter Forty-Four – Unexpected Temptations I met Marcus near the airport a week later. He had made reservations at some over-priced hotel restaurant. He was already waiting when I was shown to the table. There was no sign of any bodyguards, minders or hangers on. I had expected someone older – more statesmanlike – not a man of action. My expectations were way off base. ...

I hope that my interest in bondage with other guys is known only to me (and the guys that I meet with). It would be so great to be able to be totally open about it, but I am confident that a lot of people would be appalled and judgmental. So, I will have to wait for that momentous day when bondage somehow becomes an Olympic event. Until then, I will fantasize, and turn as many fantasies into reality as possible. For the most part, the guys that I am able to tie up are straight (as am I) or in the closet about their sexuality. But Jeremy was openly gay, worked in the same departmental office that provided my employment, and was a great guy with a very friendly personality. I really enjoyed working with him. Maybe–because he was so easy to get along with–at slow times during a workday, I would fantasize about tying Jeremy up. Jeremy was a young man who completed one year of college after high school, then decided that a college degree was not in his future. He went immediately into the work force, and was hired by the same company for which I was working at that time in my life. He was a good worker, but had a tendency to get frustrated when deadlines and workloads were not to his liking. He was about 5'8", small in stature with hair so blond that it almost looked bleached, and a fantastic sense of humor. He openly and often spoke about his roommate, who was like wise gay and also his boyfriend. Not too many people in the department took an interest, but I provided a listening ear quite often. It was sort of necessary because other times that Jeremy expressed frustrations at work was when he and his boyfriend were not getting along for some reason. Jeremy and I were alone in the office one day. All the other employees had gone to a business social that would take up the entire afternoon, but I had volunteered to remain at the office to answer phones and deal with emergencies that might arise. When I volunteered to stay behind, Jeremy also volunteered to stay with me. It was a big mistake for both of us: the day was extremely slow and we were both fighting an overdose of boredom. Jeremy had taken up residence at the front desk, and I had gravitated to the side chair next to his desk. Out of the blue, Jeremy looked at me and asked, “Jake, does my sexual orientation bother you at all?” “Not at all,” I told him, and I honestly meant it. Jeremy then launched into a one-sided conversation about his boyfriend, and how they had different interests in a number of things, how frustrating that was for him, and then forged ahead with a few examples. I knew that he would eventually have to stop rambling in order to breathe regularly for a while, so I just listened and added an occasional nod of my head or a supportive “yeah” until that moment arrived. When he finally paused, I told him that things like that happened to every couple–whether married or just living together–and it can take years to get used to another person sharing your space. Jeremy looked at me, and agreed, then added, “I just wish we were more compatible!” “What sort of things do you enjoy together?” I asked him. Jeremy closed his eyes and proceeded to name off a sizeable list, including some things that were pretty graphic and explicit. Suddenly his eyes flew open and he apologized, adding that if saying things like that were offensive or embarrassing to me, he was doubly sorry. I told him that I was not offended, and appreciated the fact that he felt comfortable enough with me to say what was on his mind. Jeremy took a deep breath and gazed off into space for a while. As he sat and gazed out the window for a time, I just looked at Jeremy. It had never really crossed my mind, but Jeremy was a good-looking young man. His nose was a centimeter too big, but on some people that adds to their good looks, and such was the case with Jeremy. The continuing silence caused me to fantasize about what Jeremy would look like… if he were tied up. It’s interesting how a person can work with someone for months and something like that subtly enters his mind on occasion, then suddenly it hits with full force and a determination. Well… at least it did with me! Jeremy began to speak again, and elaborated more on a couple of things for which they did not share a common interest. It was now or never! “Have you ever tried bondage together,” I suddenly interrupted with a louder tone. Jeremy stopped in mid-sentence and looked my direction with big eyes. I shrugged my shoulder and gave a “village simpleton” expression. Jeremy’s face turned bright red, and he gave a nervous laugh as he said, “Well, that really is a personal matter.” That remark caught me off guard–considering the graphic things he had mentioned a short time ago that seemed to me to be much more personal. He gave another small laugh and shifted in his chair. “Jeremy,” I finally said, “I’m sorry to be so outspoken, but why does that subject get such a different reaction from you as compared with all the other things you have mentioned? Does it embarrass you for some reason?” Jeremy’s face returned to its natural color and he took a deep breath. “Jake,” he said in a whisper, as though there were a room full of people around us, “I have always wanted to try bondage, but it is so embarrassing to bring the subject up with my boyfriend. I have wondered if he would like to try it, but feels as embarrassed as I do at being the first to bring it up.” “Jeremy, I am not a therapist by any stretch of the imagination,” I said, “but I may know of a way to bring the subject up. But first, tell me this. Do you think about being tied up by your boyfriend or do you think if would be more fun to tie him up?” “Actually,” Jeremy replied, “I would prefer to be the one tied up.” Yes–I was hitting pay dirt! I tried to control my excitement as I told Jeremy, “Suppose you were to leave some pictures of you tied up somewhere in your apartment? Leave them in a spot where your boyfriend will find them and see what his reaction is.” Jeremy seemed to be in a stupor of thought for a short time, then he looked at me and put his hands together in a sort of supplication gesture. “Jake, would you do me a favor?” he asked. “Depends…..” I replied nonchalantly, with a shrug of my shoulders. “What do you want me to do?” Jeremy took a deep breath, “Would you tie me up and take some pictures of me like that?” My excitement was trying to pull me from my chair and raise my arms in a ’touchdown’ gesture, but I remained calm as I agreed to do it. “We have the office to ourselves right now. We’re alone. It’s not busy. There’s an instamatic camera in the lower drawer of the desk you are sitting at. And we can use the conference room in back for privacy in the remote possibility that a client comes in,” I told him. “We just need some rope.” Jeremy clapped his hands, then leaped to his feet with a big smile and disappeared into the janitorial closet, emerging a short time later with a few coils of soft, white rope. “I saw this the other day when I was looking for things to sweep up with after that flower pot in the corner was knocked over,” he said in an animated voice. “…not sure why it was there, but I didn’t question that it would come in handy someday for something!” Jeremy led the way into the conference room, turned on the light and moved to the front corner where he literally swayed from one foot to the other and rubbed his hands together in excitement. His actions and smile spoke for him. In addition to his smile, I noted that Jeremy was also wearing a yellow dress shirt and black tie with thin gold stripes. His dress pants were black as were his dress socks and wing-tip shoes. I asked if he had any preference as to how he was tied up, and he shook his head. I told him to take off his shoes and move a chair into the open space in front of the whiteboard. He grabbed a chair and sat down, then leaned forward to remove his shoes. I moved to the back of the chair, and watched as Jeremy moved his arms around the sides of the chair back and behind the chair. Unfortunately, the chair back was too wide, and his hands were about two feet apart. I did note that the back of the chair was not very high, so I told him to lean back as far as he could and lift his arms over the back of the chair. That was not a problem; Jeremy lifted his arms over the chair back which caused his shoulders to be pulled back slightly, but was not too uncomfortable. ...

(story continues from More Than He Bargained For…) Part 2: The Doctor Knows Best Hans had not had a good night’s sleep. Tanya, the escort he had booked for the night had tied him up tightly as per his request, and then things took an unwanted turn. Tanya informed him that, in her native Russia, she was actually a doctor in psychiatry, and so quite used to getting unruly or violent patients under control with proper use of restraints. That evening, she had used the ropes and straps that Hans had provided, but suggested that a straightjacket was a much better device for really long term, inescapable bondage. ...

(story continues from Tan Lines 3) Part 4: Epilogue “But what do I do with her?” “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” “Uh, where are we going? You told her we had to leave soon.” “Yes. We’re going out.” I wait for an explanation. None comes. Okay, so he’s back in Master mode. “Uh, Sir? What mode am I in? I mean, you’re really messing with my head here.” Ted chuckles. ...

Damn snow! The porch door was blocked by a drift that has been blown against it. After some pushing and a lot of swearing, I managed to squeeze out, dragging the shovel behind me. The wind was whipping the snow around and my snow pants, parka, hat and face were plastered with snow within seconds. I struggled for a half an hour to clear a path to the shed to get at the snow blower, but I was getting frustrated. ...

I have always liked door-to-door salesmen. That form of salesmanship has diminished and almost disappeared in our society today, but there are still some companies that utilize that method of selling products. I was sitting at home one day during the weekend, thinking of an assignment that had been given to me by my boss. A young intern in our office (his name was Benjamin) was going to be having a farewell party soon; he was leaving the company after accepting a permanent job, and the boss wanted me to be in charge of a “roast” in Benjamin’s honor. “You know what a roast is….. don’t you Jake?” my boss had asked me. “I think I do,” I replied. “Isn’t it sort of like a good natured, light-hearted bundle of jokes–whether true or false– that are told about a person?” “Right!” the boss had said nodding his head. “You can think of all the strange things that Benjamin has said, or the weird things he has done, or his unusual hobbies, or what he talks about doing in his spare time and make an enjoyable show at his embarrassment. But it’s all in fun! And since Benjamin was working with you the majority of the time while he was here, you probably know more about him than anyone else. You will do a great job putting something together!” He emphasized his point by giving me a big smile and a hard slap on the back before making a hasty exit from my office. (Is it any wonder that “boss” spelled backward is “double s.o.b.?) So now, here I was sitting in my living room straining my brain trying to remember anything and everything that Ben had said or demonstrated or shared with me that could be exaggerated into good “roast” material. While I was lost in thought, a movement outside my window caught my attention. A young man was walking up to my front door at a brisk pace carrying a small briefcase. From my vantage point, he looked exactly like Benjamin. What a stroke of luck! Maybe I could chat with him in person for a few minutes, and get some information from him that would be useful. I didn’t think to question why Benjamin would be visiting me at my home. The doorbell rang, but I was at the door before it had even finished sounding his approach. I pulled the door open–more quickly than intended, which startled the young man and caused him to take a step back. My excitement faded, and I tried not to show my disappointment. The young man at my door had the same brown hair, solid frame, and facial features as Benjamin, but up close, I realized that he was not the guy I had been working with for the past several months. In all honesty, he could have been Benjamin’s brother–the resemblance was amazing! The young man stepped forward and stretched out his hand in greeting. I took his hand and tried to hide my disappointment and concentrate my thoughts on what he was saying. He smiled broadly as he spoke in a very polite manner. “My name is Troy. I am a student at CSC and am traveling in your neighborhood today to introduce you to something that I feel every home needs. I am working my way through college by doing this, and would really appreciate the opportunity to tell you about our product. May I take a few moments of your time right now? By the look on your face, I may have caught you at a bad time though.” I put my concentration on the young man in front of me, and gave him a smile in return. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I just thought that you were someone else. It’s amazing how much you look like him!” Troy’s smile grew even more. “Wow!” he replied. “If you think I look like another guy, he would have to be a very handsome fellow indeed!” That remark caused me to laugh; I took an instant liking to this guy and invited him in. “I’m Jake,” I told him as I took him around the corner into my living room and pointed to a comfortable chair. Troy had stopped at the door, and was removing his shoes. “It’s company policy, Jake” he told me. “It’s not a good first impression if I get your carpet dirty.” He walked into the living room and sat in the chair I had pointed out. For the next twenty minutes Troy demonstrated his product, and it was indeed something that every house would likely need. With his politeness and enthusiasm, I knew early on that I would be one of Troy’s customers. During his presentation, I kept looking at him closely. Though his nose was slightly smaller, and his jaw a little more square, he had a definite resemblance to Benjamin–who was monopolizing my thoughts lately. Troy stood once to show me a closer look at a statement in his flip chart, and as he returned to his chair, it was definitely obvious: from the back, Troy looked exactly the same as Benjamin. I excused myself and left the room, as Troy waited patiently. I needed to think about something, maybe formulate a plan, but not while Troy was talking to me. I could not afford any distractions while I was thinking. My mind was thinking back to something Benjamin had told me. He had his eye on a young secretary in our office, and had finally mastered the courage to ask Gina out on a date. Benjamin had shared his interest in Gina with me as we had worked together, and though I kept it quiet, other people that he shared this secret with did not. It was soon a hot topic for the office grapevine. I sometimes wondered if Gina had felt compelled to accept the invitation because of all the gossip circulating through the office. ...

The flat was dark. The curtains cut out practically all of the light into Mandy’s flat. Some of the sun’s rays broke through the gaps between the curtains, casting rays onto the interior of the flat. The phone started to ring, after several rings Mandy’s ansafone cut it. The sound of Mandy’s matter of fact message reverberated around the open plan lounge/kitchen diner of the flat, before it was replaced by the shrill whistle that was the tone to speak after. ...

Whenever I meet people on the net and discuss my passion for rubber and bondage, one of the first really serious questions is normally, how did you get started or have you always been a rubberist. I’ve found these questions being asked with such regularity I thought that it would be worth my while write it down. Think of it as a comparison if you’re already versed with the joys of rubber or as a road map if you’re thinking of ‘converting’ your partner. ...

“Ah good, you are awake now. You’re probably wondering where you are. Actually you will have a lot of questions and I will answer them all in good time. Now stop that, there’s no point in struggling at all, you are very well spreadeagled here. I am a professional at this so you should save you energy, you are going nowhere, I can assure you. And there is no point in screaming either; the inflatable gag is very efficient. Here, I will show you, a couple more pumps like this, mmmmm, pushing your cheeks out nicely. You probably think your jaw will break but I know exactly how far to pump. Just breathe nice and slowly through your nose tubes. Good, that’s better.” ...

story continues from part seven Part 8: Latex Prisoner Kat woke up from her bondage hell at about 2pm the next day. She was laying in her master’s bed completely naked. She was broken, her hair and make up where ruined. Her body was still covered in sweat from the day before. She still stank of heavy latex from her early bondage session. Kat quickly got out of bed and started looking for her master. But he was gone, Kat had been left in the farmhouse by herself. Waiting for her in the living room was a video message from her master. Kat hit the play bottom on the remote control and the TV sprang to life. “Hello again Kat. I have been needed at work, so have had to leave the farmhouse. I should be gone for a couple of days. You should be o.k for food and drink and the TV has lots of channels for you to watch. However I have padlocked any room in the house which contains bondage equipment. Do not want you to have too much fun without me!” Kat would be all alone in this huge farmhouse for two days. Kat went to have a good look round, she had not seen a lot of the house. She had spend most of her time being restrained, gagged, hooded, humiliated and rubberized. She quickly started looking around, seeing which doors she could open. More often than not they would be locked. Kat started to wonder how much bondage equipment was hidden behind the locked doors. If she pressed her face against some of the doors she could smell the strong smell of latex. Behind one of the locked doors Kat could swear she heard a noise. She listened for the sound again, she heard nothing this time. The door itself stood out, it was made of metal and was covered in padlocks. ...

(story continues from Family Ties) Part 2: Let the Games Begin “I would love to see the letter my dear.” Ken and Kyle were out with friends and Janice and Kelly accepted Uncle Sy’s invitation to dine out with him. Sy had just returned from a trip and was eager to be updated on family affairs, especially Kelly’s decision on college. Sy took the letter from Kelly and chose to read aloud. ...