Anne pushed the covers aside and slid out of bed. She pulled the thin gown over her head, reached for her hair brush, and stepped in front of the mirror. Anne frowned. What’s wrong with me? It’s not right that the younger sister should marry before the older. Yes, she is the pretty one, but I’m not ugly. More handsome than pretty, but Mother is more handsome still and she married Father. I’m neither skinny nor fat. I see the way men look at me. ...

“A pet!? You win the lottery and you want a pet.” “Mm.” “What kind of pet?” “Something, er, different. Unique.” “Uh huh. And expensive.” “Hey. It’s only money.” All talk of pets was forgotten in the month that followed. Nina was focused on their trip to Thailand. She didn’t know why Gerry had chosen Thailand, but Nina went along with it. It was a trip out of the country. A trip to someplace foreign, exotic. But then the subject of clothes came up. ...

Agnes had always told herself that nothing would change her, that no matter how high her star rose and what plaudits were heaped upon her she would still be the same girl who had been given her first break on the bill of that off Broadway play all those years ago. There was a part of her that at least wanted that to be the truth, but in her most honest moments, even she could acknowledge the reality that no one could experience a rise to fame like her own and remain the same person they had been when they set out on the path they had chosen to follow in life. ...

Diana pushed open the door. A wall of noise hit her. The place was packed, too crowded to work, but then he caught her eye. A lot of the men glanced her way, just to check her out. He held her gaze for a moment, then turned his attention back to the TV. Diana made a slow circuit of the bar. When she got to him he slid off the stool. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death Master Ian prepares his new little slave girl for her captivity. This play is going to be one of endurance and layered confinement. Combining all of her masters techniques both in breath play and bondage. Jenni’s body shivers in anticipation at what is to come. So many items laid out on the bed, she gulps at the mere thought of being encased in all that. ...

(story continues from Candice Part 2) Part Three “Comfy?” Squirming slightly in anticipation, Candice nodded, watching as Mistress Karen made final adjustments to her bondage. Lying spread eagle in the center of the bed, her wrists and ankles held by ropes attached to the corner posts, Candice smiled into her gag, eagerly awaiting whatever Mistress had in mind for her naked body. To her surprise, Mistress Karen rose from the bed and turned toward the door. “Have fun,” she said lightly, before leaving the room. Puzzled, Candice watched as Dana slipped through the door closing it behind her. ...

(story continues from Cousin Laura’s Revenge) Part Two Friday, May 24, 2002 Mike was awakened at 8am by tickling on his feet and his face. As he laughed, he realized that two hands were at his left foot (one holding the toes back, and one scratching at the sole), two hands were similarly at his right foot, and two more hands at his face (one tickling him under the chin, and one grasping his hair, holding his head still). Although blindfolded, he realized that somebody had joined his two cousins. He jerked in his bonds in surprise. ...

Blindfolded, he listened. To the tinkle of garter snaps. The whisper of sheer nylon. The sound of her moving about just beyond his reach. And he smelled: smooth leather, her sexy perfume. Finally he felt the gentle pressure of her lips on his. “Start counting, Lover,” she said. With a small chuckle, he sensed her moving away, the sound of her heels fading in the distance. To himself, he started counting: “One, two, three, four… forty eight, forty nine—FIFTY! Ready or not, here I come!” ...

The club was kind of quiet on a Thursday night. There was a blues band playing up on stage and a group of women dancing. They are all friends from college, blowing off a little steam together, none planning on going to work early in the morning. Sara was one of them. She was attractive and flirty with the few men in the room who approached her on the dance floor, wearing a tight white top and a short black mini-skirt, yet she kept looking my way, making sure I was watching her. Every man in the room was watching her. She caught me looking, more than once, and smiled. I smiled back, not thinking much of it as I leaned against the bar, enjoying the scene. She broke away from her friends and came over, introduced herself as “Sara”, and said “aren’t you going to buy me a drink?” I asked her what she wanted and she said “Two shots of tequila, and a martini with extra olives”. I ordered the round. ...

The Arrival The wind is still, but the air is still biting cold as she sits in the ornate sleigh. Mistress Bella hears nothing but the sounds of the bells on the reins, as the team of four white horses pull valiantly through the deep snow. How she loves that sound… so clear and melodic with nothing to counterpoint their song except the occasional whinny of the team. Such a magnificent set of steeds… pure white with long, flowing, well groomed manes streaming out behind them. Gold bridles and bits accenting their beauty and ending in white embossed leather leads…. much like she has for her dear slave pet. Ahh, but he is her prize, and deserves nothing but the best of what she has to give. He is nestled under her clothing, at her feet, head on her lap as instructed. This is for his protection, but most of all for her warmth. The weather on these sleigh trips can be brutal. Today is not so bad. No raging blizzard to cloud her vision and block her way, no sleet to mar the surface of her skin. She closes her eyes for a moment to summon the memory of her pet’s caresses on her skin. He loves to touch her skin, soft and slow is how he draws his hands up her skin… when she allows it, of course. She doesn’t tell him how much she relishes that touch. She is dressed for whatever weather comes her way. Mistress feels her pet’s head resting against her leather clad thigh… she always wears her thigh high leather boots on these trips, for one never knows how deep the snow will be. But then, he is the only one who knows this… for her boots are covered by layers of silk petticoats and overlaid by a deep emerald velvet skirt. Above the skirt is a tight ivory corset, embroidered with the finest details of ivy and lilies. Over all of this she wears a heavy cape of arctic fox fur lined in heavy satin with a large hood. He revels in the smell of the leather under his nose. It is intoxicating when mixed with her perfume. He could stay here forever, under her skirts, at her feet. He certainly isn’t uncomfortable, for under him is layer upon layer of furs to cushion his ride. He is clad in leather as well, for that is his Mistresses delight. Each piece he wears is leather tooled just for him, with her name, with her design, always showing to whom he belongs, in case there is ever a question. Around his ankles are thick gold chains, each with a lock ornately decorated in silver and gold, the keys to which are hanging around her neck. Around his wrists are matching leather gauntlets, also locked with rings for restraining. Circling his neck is her collar… worn always, locked always… the only exceptions are when she bathes him, and when she bids him to take her forcefully…. to do what he pleases… as long as it pleases her too. He knows what this means…. he knows to push her down on the bed, to pin her down with her arms above her and kiss her passionately, and to take her, roughly, but not brutally…. to let her know she is what he wants even when unfettered by chains and collars. He is safe here, he is secure… his needs are met; he knows his place and has to worry about nothing. He is truly happy. He is awoken from his half sleep by a tug on the chain attached to his collar… his Mistress wants him. She reaches under the blanket on her lap to grasp his chin and tilt it up toward her. “Hello, my sleepy pet”, she purrs… “We’ve not much farther to go before we are home, and I wish you to service me, to ease my need”. He needs no further prompting and buries his head between her spread legs under the thickness of the covers and skirts. He slowly laps at her with his tongue flat and occasionally sucks on her, feeling her buck when he does so….. he knows he must stop every so often, so she can catch her breath and when he begins again, after the last pause, she arches her back as the spasms force her to grab his head and push it ever closer. Once her twitching stops, she once again purrs for him…. “Oh my pet… you have done very well…. would you bring out the bag?” His eyes dance with anticipation. He produces the black velvet bag from under the furs and hands it to her. He watches with glee as she reveals her own burgundy velvet bag, removes one black marble from her bag and replaces it with two white ones from his. Two! He thinks… two… I must have done very well. He begins to fantasize what the evening holds in store for him when he suddenly hears the voices of hurried servants. Time, it seems, is always the enemy. The sleigh comes to a stop and he scrambles to a kneeling position as his Mistress has taught him to do when she stands. Once she is steady, he hurries down the step of the sleigh and takes her hand to help her down, keeping his eyes to the ground, or rather, to her boots. Oh her boots… he couldn’t stand to look away from those. He feels the stares of the others…. glares of jealousy at his place at the Mistress’s side. She has exalted him to a position of honor rarely known. He is her only lover, her only pet. He is to be treated with respect and cared for and those who do not, face her wrath. The stories of the sad men who dared to cross her are legendary, possibly embellished by time, but not many care to find out for sure. Of course he knows he is at her mercy and she is not always in a good mood. He listens carefully as she barks orders to the others around them, and not hearing any orders attached to him, he keeps his head bowed until she strides into the keep…. then he must follow, for she holds the leash. She walks past the large fieldstone fireplace, where something wonderful is cooking and marches him right up the flat, shallow, circular marble stairs to her room. There she releases his leash and in one quick movement, unlatches her cape. Before it can fall to the floor, he catches it and hangs in on the back of the heavy wooden, arched door. He stokes the fire to keep the room warm and kneels near the fire on the pile of furs that cover the floor, awaiting her wishes. This pile of furs is her favorite place to be with him. There are furs of almost every kind of animal found in the forest. As with everything else, they exist to sustain her. “Oh my pet”, she sighs as she lies on the furs next to him, “I would so like to spend the evening with you, keeping you on the edge, trying different variations with my silk ropes, but alas I cannot… I have duties waiting for me. Before I go, I wish a neck massage!” ...

I am sat in my lounge with my skirt pulled up to reveal my groin, using a light weight metal file to try to hack through the body of a hardened steel heavy duty padlock, with a concealed shank. The lock has a guarantee of being the toughest lock in the world to open and that guarantee is accurate. It has been used to lock a metal chastity belt around my waist and it is effectively denying me access to my sex and my so desperately desired relief. There is also an egg timer ticking away five short minutes as I desperately rasp at the metal of the lock. I am also eager to make a telephone call but not until the lock has been removed. ...

Stefanie is a confident, attractive young woman who lives in a small apartment in the town. She is proud of her body, her charisma and the power she had over men. She always has everything under control and does always know what to do next. It is now several weeks before Carnival and Stefanie searched the internet for a sexy costume for the carnival. Her costumes are always unusual and extremely short so that she can steal the show from the other women. A year ago she went dressed as a Playboy Bunny. She had worn black leather boots, some short hotpants with white pompom and a low-cut black top, so that her beautiful C-cup breasts were shown to advantage. Onto her head she had put two bunny ears in her long brown hair. With her beautiful blue eyes she could get any man she wanted. ...

History In my last recounting, “Building My Dungeon” I spoke of how I constructed my new play space and a pillory with an auto-locking & release system. I also related how my wife was introduced to my new toy. I continued to do self-bondage activities in the pillory using the auto-release mechanism. Each time I would tell my wife what I was planning and that she was my safety. On occasion I would intentionally set the timers longer than I knew it would take her to return. This allowed me to create scenes similar to my first solo attempt. She would cooperate by teasing and spanking me until I was released by the system. She would frequently increase the time left on the timers when she was done. ...

I always enjoyed getting out there on the open road, driving my car and taking in the scenery. And I have to admit, the day that I got my convertible, it was a totally different kind of feeling. Of course, being a guy, you aren’t supposed to like cute things or enjoy the scenery, right? But looking at the girls while driving is always something that a guy is supposed to do. But since I like to dress like a girl, I look at them for different reasons… Well, maybe for MORE reasons than “normal” guys. And in a convertible, things are so much better. ...

I had been living next door to Anna for a few years. We were both friendly towards each other and always exchanged pleasantries whenever we saw each other. We did the usual neighbourly things, taking in parcels when either one of us wasn’t in, keeping an eye on the other ones house whenever one was away. Anna was 43 and about 5'6" tall. She was attractive in a nice way and always held herself well, in a confident manner. She was single (as far as I could tell), and appeared to keep herself to herself. ...

Through the wonders of their technology, the experiences of the bride and groom are actually beamed into the brains of the participants, so they ‘participate’ in the deflowering, yet they’re still in their own minds experiencing the group hug. Ip Terla is the first to be called. She leaves the table, crosses to the door, pale yellow gown streaming behind as she walks. She is a vision - the physical ideal of my childhood dreams. That we should be thrust together after such a long absence, and under these circumstances … ...

The night was dark, a million stars twinkled overhead. As she crested a hill there was the moon, brilliantly full, hanging low in the sky. Carolyn glanced at Lee Anne. Her soft, white sweater, stretched tight across her tits fairly glowed in the moonlight. Carolyn resisted the urge to cop a feel. She had seen Lee’s tits, often, but it never went farther than looking. Any touching was reserved for the back: neck rubs, back rubs. They showered together … sometimes. Temptation almost overwhelmed her then. ...

This story follows on from Jemima’s Blossom There was little to be seen of the finer detail of her bedlah save for the flashes of bright red diaphanous material that swept by along with the movements of her body. For some the improvised dance in which she was engaged would have been termed belly dancing, but Jemima had always hated that term. It was so typically Western to boil something so ancient and articulate down to a tawdry term that fell so far from the true nature of the thing. ...

Yeah, this modern version of the infamous Tijuana bible follows the pattern of almost every Popeye cartoon I’ve ever seen (many of which inspired sexual fantasies), except that this one ends very badly for the spinach-chugging sailor. -o-0-o- It was a lovely summer day in the town of Sweethaven, a perfect day to spend at the beach. So it was that Popeye, Bluto, and the ever-vivacious Miss Olive Oyl decided to make a day of it. It was Bluto who had issued the invitation and offered his car as the transportation. It was the suggestion that they would get some good exercise that brought Popeye on board the little expedition; that and the fact that Olive was coming. ...

Chapter 2: Not just another Box Paul took Monday morning off and arranged for his mother to watch the kids so he could be there to extract Natsuko the moment her trunk arrived. He removed her restraints, gave her some water, and milked her while running a warm bath for her. The milking in particular was long overdue as she had leaked milk all over herself during the 2 days and was clearly uncomfortably swollen. He then proceeded to wash her while massaging her sore muscles and dry her before carrying her to bed so she could recover. ...