“I want to go with you to the science fiction convention next weekend,” Michelle said. It was a bit of a surprise to me. We’d been sleeping together for a few months, and though she was interested in my life, she wasn’t very interested in my sf habit. “That’d be great,” I said. She winked at me. “It’s not the panels and stuff that interest me. I remember you talking about the stuff that goes on ‘after hours.’ I think I’m ready to take a chance.” ...
“What is SHE doing here?” It was a duet. The two businesswomen – both powerful, both accomplished, both used to getting what they wanted exclusively – glared at each other from opposite sides of the conference room. The Master made no outward sign of his feelings, but secretly he was very pleased. The mutual hostility would add greatly to his experiment. “The two of you,” he said coolly, “are in competition for a certain project of mine. This project will, however, require your two companies to work together. I wish to see if you can do something that will require you to cooperate with each other under highly stressful conditions. Shall we begin?” ...
Karla called from downstairs at 4:00 to announce the arrival of my guest. I told her to send him up and quickly went down my mental checklist. Everything was ready, so I ran a comb through my hair one more time, swallowed my nervousness, and moved myself into Dom mode. I took a few deep breaths, and the knock came. I opened up and let him in. My goodness, I thought. Heʼs a big one. About my height but at least a hundred pounds heavier. And quite a bit younger. ...
Relaxed and finally having shifted down the gears until she felt that she was almost herself again, Tamara Dumas slipped into the booth and across the cracked leather of the seat until she was sitting directly opposite the man in the suit. Her last dance had ended more than an hour before and now there was no need for a performance on her part. It was no matter to her that the attention of a well dressed individual this long after she was off stage always meant the offer of serious money, if the customer was that interested in the goods he could stand to see the person behind the body that went on show every night. ...
continued from Chapter Four PART TWO – CAROL FINISHES THE STORY Chapter 5: Carol Receives More Advice Tim arrived home the next day, and for the next week of course we made love. Each time I tried to introduce more latex into the equation and he was willing, but again I knew he wanted to please me but this was not his instigating. He asked me about the haircut and I said Monica had done it while he was away, and he said he liked it, he obviously noticed my new rings and he now noted they were gold and they looked fantastic. I replied that Monica had also done those. Then he saw the red weals on my buttocks and he knew that Monica had also been responsible for those too. ...
What a weekend, it all started then I had a wet dream (and wet fingers) about my married next door neighbour! After telling him about the sexy dream and swapping quick suggestive banter with Howard, I wanted him. I had found some stories he had written on a BDSM web site (“the new sub-contractor”, “Talk”) which got me hot, breathless and thinking. I wanted him to hurt me and to use me crudely, like the slaves in his stories. I’m a recently single woman with two kids who really knows what she wants, and now knows how to ask for it! So fast forward; here, I am here on Sunday afternoon, tied on my tipple toes, and strung up by my thumbs and nipples at Howard’s summer home, whipped, teased, tortured and not fucked at all, I’ve been in his complete control since Friday morning. I have not had what you would call an affair, but I’ve had a great time. I came more times than I could ever remember, and wow wee, what a weekend for any single mother. Who needs a boyfriend or a vibrator when you have a firm master next door who is willing to train you? This adventure started weeks ago when I found out, though his stories, that my wonderful neighbour liked inescapable self-bondage. This gave me a fantasy that turned into a great slutty orgasm, then into a plan. If he played with me but didn’t have sex what harm could come of it I speculated? I mean no lips, no tongue and no sex with me, just his help. I want him to keep his clothes on. How could his wife mind if nothing happened. It would like having tea in my living room. I went to Howard’s house and as he was well off and helpful, and I was short on cash for this quest. I asked for a short term loan to buy some stuff I needed, and being a kind man he gave me his credit card with the direction to “buy whatever I needed and make it up to him latter”. So I took Howard’s credit card to NorthBound leather for some essentials. My list of rigid stuff included, ...
continued from part 4 Part 5: Playing the odds I was in for a big one. At the end of our third year in college my three roommates and I decided to go to Vegas for a weekend. In the run-up to the weekend some dealing had taken place. My roommate and I had made a bet about something unimportant. He had been so sure that he would win that he told me I could name whatever I wanted because he wouldn’t have to do it anyway. Except that he lost. I decided that I wanted to spend a full night in strict bondage at the next possible opportunity. ...
(story continues from Bitgirl Part 3: The Race) Part 4: Bitgirl’s Reward Evans grabbed Bitgirl’s reins, yanked her head around before she could plant another hoof in Dee’s crotch. That she realized that Dee was, in fact, a man made the idea irresistible. Evans led his pony down the hill to where Angela sat, cradling her arm. He helped the girl into the cart and led them back to the stall. He released Bitgirl from the cart, helped Angela walk inside. He cinched Bitgirl’s reins to a ring in the wall. Shut the door. ...
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and organizations are imaginary, and any similarity of names to those of real persons or organizations is coincidental. Part One Mary was anxious as she entered the big Southwind department store in suburban Seattle. She stopped and looked around as she reviewed what she had planned. She had never done anything like it before, but she needed the money. She approached the counter that displayed expensive watches. ...
“Ken, where do we get our wax?” “Who wants to know?” I knew who wanted to know - the MILF. I had seen her walk by, knew she’d taken a spot on the side. And, sure enough, Sam pointed at the blonde with the green dress. “I’ll take care of it.” Three visits in three weeks and no kid this time. I had her number at a glance. She wore a ring, but not a wedding ring, she had a kid about ten years old (a girl), which put her in the thirties, and there was no evidence of a man. ...
You’re traveling through another realm of experience, a realm not only of the senses but of thought; you’re on a journey into a fantastic world whose limits are those of imagination. There’s the signpost up ahead – your next stop, the Limbo Zone. The party has ended and the hostess is bidding good night to her guests. She asks several friends about a curly-haired young man who had left earlier, but none knew him. As she locked up and went around the house turning out lights she sees the young man just as he breaks down the back door and storms into her kitchen with an enraged look warping his face. Angrily he comes toward her and then seems to freeze solid with splinters of wood and fragments of glass floating around him. ...
The illumination from the streetlights was more than enough to see by, even after the intense electric glare of the subway station. But the addition of the subtle light of the full moon added a certain something to the night that Alex Johnston had always thought special, almost ethereal in nature. Even now she marvelled a little at the way in which the moonlight seemed to erode the clean and ever so modern edges of the nondescript Yokohama street, eating away a part of the very real and practical nature of the architecture of concrete and glass with its natural beauty. ...
Amy was a twenty-two year old blonde with a slim, shapely figure. She lay spreadeagled on a table wearing a string bikini that emphasised her thrust out chest and also fitted snugly round her thighs. She was bound to the table with ropes round her wrists and ankles. Her mouth was also taped. She struggled. She flexed her fingers as though they would break the ropes. Her back rubbed against the flat surface but all she felt were the ropes round her ankles digging deeply into her skin. She stopped and felt the palms of her hands were sweaty. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed through her nose. ...
I was muttering under my breath as I shoved the door open with my backside. It was an easy door to open, and it had to be as my arms were full of cleaning equipment. Equipment I allowed to crash on to the floor with a degree of satisfaction before looking around the room. I was supposed to be getting some help with this kennel cleaning job, but my volunteer companion appeared to have, to use the technical term, scarpered. Probably outside making pretty blue goo-goo eyes at the kennel owner in the hope she would be taken off any rotas with the words cleaning on them. ...
continued from Chapter Two PART TWO – CAROL FINISHES THE STORY Chapter 3: Meeting Monica Again I had left it a full month before I contacted Monica through her website. There hadn’t been a day that I hadn’t thought of her, the three weeks I had been with her, and particularly the last night. We arranged to meet in a local park in Oxford, as least local for me, for I still didn’t know where she lived. Just as with my first meeting with Ann, I was like a nervous 14 year old on her first date. ...
continued from part one Happy Halloween – Part Two Happy New Year! After the New Year it was back to business as usual. Her boss finally gave up on the contractors renovating the old building, broke the lease, sued for a large chunk of money and found a new building closer to my house, but on the opposite side of town from her condo. She made the commute a few times, but generally she stayed at my place and our games and experimentation continued. Other then an occasional long weekend or a couple vacation days, there was no foreseeable way that an opportunity to stay mummified for nearly three months was going to present itself a second time. But the occasional bondage play during the week and the longer sessions on the weekend kept her appetite at bay. ...
continued from part 5 Part 6: Revenge I had spent Sunday night in tight self imposed bondage mummified in the Sleepsack. It was sensual to be held in that tight embrace and exciting to know I may not be able to escape. Yes I know that’s not true. I had the box cutter the right way round this time so I could have cut my way out. However it felt like I could not escape. ...
(story continues from Differences) Part 2 “That will be all, Bobby.” “Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress. Same time next week, Mistress?” “Make an appointment with the receptionist. When she‘s finished with you, tell her I want to see her in my office.” “Yes, Mistress. Good day, Mistress.” Jewel watched as her latest client moved toward the door. To the outside world, he was Robert Sykes III, owner and CEO of a major corporation. In this room, he was simply Bobby. He was one of her oldest clients, and paid quite well for her services. ...
(story continues from Gai-Shift - Thermocline Chapter 5: A Fire on the Sea)_ _To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge Chapter 6: Release the Lancers 2.0 It could all have been avoided. If Petra had simply said, “You know, keeping me bound naked in flesh-tight ropes that pinch my nipples and knot up my steaming snatch excites me. I’ve lain here for hours watching you Viking lasses swan past with your revealing costumes and limitless morals. I’m hot now, hotter than the passion of serving the collective state. I’ll do anything, lick anything, be anything, in only to endure your fondling touch.” ...
Let me start off by telling you a little about what it is that I do. I am a gatherer, a finder of lost things, or a collector. My clients are usually hunting for that car that they sold before they got married, a lost painting, a loved one who dropped off the map a few years ago or are looking for something a little more special. Thats what I am doing tonight. Getting my client something a little more special than the usual request. ...