(story continues from The Trainer 3) Part Four Sunday, August 3, 2003 Harold was awakened at 8am by Beverly and Becky. They untied him from the bed, but left him in his straightjacket, and placed him on the floor. They put a chair over him, so that he would be ready to lick his breakfast from Karen’s soles. She came in, barefoot, carrying a bowl of hot oatmeal. “I do recall how much you hate oatmeal, Harry, so I made a great big bowl for you. I’m going to keep spreading it, and you’re going to keep licking it. You can expect oatmeal for your breakfast every day, dear.” ...

continued from chapter two PART ONE – TIM’S TALE Chapter 3: Monica’s Website and Carol’s Further Rehabilitation It was three days before the second DVD arrived. I was concerned, but what could I do? Nothing. So I decided to see if I could find out a bit about Monica and her cohorts. And, like everything nowadays, I started on the internet. It took me quite a long time, I googled all kinds of name hints and disappeared into the strangest sites I had seen in my life. I haven’t lived in a cocoon, and know generally what the human species can get up to, but some of the sites were really very interesting indeed. ...

continued from chapter three PART ONE – TIM’S TALE Chapter 4: It’s Not Getting Any Better For Carol It was two more days before I received another DVD, and I had spent the intervening time thinking about her in the rubber romper suit. I had heard about infantilism and thought it all a bit strange but seeing my wife trapped as she was in the suit, a bizarre parody of a baby, dummy in mouth for some inexplicable reason I found it quite arousing. It wasn’t that I found babies sexy, Christ no, but my wife’s firm adult body fully filling out the silly romper suit and unable to do anything about it, for some reason, was. I also wondered in the intervening periods what Carol was being subjected to, and how she was reacting. I was about to find out. ...

Barry stood before the inspector. He turned. The inspector peered closely. He even used a magnifying glass. Less than perfection was not an option. The inspector nodded. He opened the door to the cage. Barry climbed in. The inspector closed and locked the door. The cage was lined with soft, plush velvet. There was a slit in the middle. Barry slid his feet in, then his legs until he was waist deep in the luxurious fabric. The cage was made of silver, its sides woven like a basket. He could see out well enough, but others would have trouble seeing in. Given his nakedness, he felt that was a good thing. On the other hand, he was a perfect specemin. He was meant to be enjoyed visually. And while feeling a bit modest, he had worked hard to achieve that level of perfection and had escaped the life of misery and squalor he had been born into. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy Part 6) THIRTY-ONE I looked at the Giantess as my bound body swung and twirled, hanging upside down at the end of the long leather cord that was perpetually wrapped about me in one way or another. She was smiling at me, her eyelids drooping as she lounged back against the far wall of the tub looking satisfied, and glowing just a bit. She smirked and flicked her fingers, making me bob and dance at the end of my tethers. ...

We hit their camp just before dawn, took most of them out in the first strike. The rest fought hard, as they always do, fought to the death, but it was soon over. Luckily we didn’t lose anybody, though I took one in the leg. While we waited for the chopper, one of their trucks pulled up. There was a white flag fluttering on the antenna. Four troops leapt from the back of the truck. They had white armbands, as did the driver. It was the one note of civility in the war. We allowed each other to retrieve our dead. We kept their weapons, of course, but let them keep their packs and personal gear. ...

The bicycle crested the hill. Hard to miss that hot pink and black outfit. I checked that the Harley was well hidden behind the tractor under the eave and headed into the woods. I ducked behind some bushes at the corner of the house and adjusted the camera. I waited. Didn’t have to wait long. She peddled into the clearing and onto the brick patio. (click click click) She straddled the bike as she took off her helmet, shook out her impossibly blonde hair. (click click) She rolled the bike behind, then into the garage. ...

Adele batted his hand away. “Hey! Stop that.” He put his hand back on her tit. He had his other hand in her hair, holding her head as he kissed her, a teeth grinding kiss. “Jesus Andy!” He fumbled the buttons on her blouse, tugged at the thin fabric. “Never done it here before. Done it everywhere else but here, baby. This is gonna be something you never forget.” She wasn’t wearing a front-clasp bra. She always wore that bra for him. He wrapped his arms around her, slipped the catch, slid his hands under the cups, squeezed her tits - hard. ...

(story continues from Lillith’s Tails Part 6: Lillith’s Children) Lillith’s Tails Part 7: Lillith’s Passion Sleepy awareness dawns, the darkness slowly gives way to a dim red radiance that illuminates nothing. Floating suspended in fluid warmth, a thought drifted idly across the newly awakened mind. “Who am I?” Memories flicker just out of reach, fractured images and half formed sounds dance at the edge of hearing. “Where am I?” Unseen hands grope in the gloom tracing across soft shapes the thick syrup matching body heat so well that everything seems to blur into one mass. ...

Kimberly waited all day for her Owner to come home. When she heard the keys jingle in the lock downstairs she wanted to jump up, race down, and meet him at the door, but she knew he wouldn’t like that, so instead she stayed on the bed, in the dark, waiting. She heard him moving around downstairs. She heard the groan of the pipes as he turned on the water. She heard his voice, muted through the walls, as he made a phone call. Her pulse raced and she trembled all over. When was he going to come upstairs? She hoped it would be soon. ...

The wedding went as weddings do: Leela had a tantrum and dumped her basket of rose petals in the aisle, sat down and cried. At the reception a drunk Uncle Phil collided with a drunk Aunt May on the dance floor, setting off a mini firestorm until both had fresh drinks, kissed, and made up. Kind of creeped me out. The fact that they were siblings, I mean. And it was a serious, and I mean serious, kiss. Well, the jury was still out on that. And Uncle Earl, the official family photographer, ran out of film. Hey! Earl! One word: Digital! ...

The wedding went as weddings do: Leela had a tantrum and dumped her basket of rose petals in the aisle, sat down and cried. At the reception a drunk Uncle Phil collided with a drunk Aunt May on the dance floor, setting off a mini firestorm until both had fresh drinks, kissed, and made up. Kind of creeped me out. The fact that they were siblings, I mean. And it was a serious, and I mean serious, kiss. Well, the jury was still out on that. And Uncle Earl, the official family photographer, ran out of film. Hey! Earl! One word: Digital! ...

A movement caught his eye. He picked up the binoculars, focused. The curvy girl was leaving the pool, tits swaying as she climbed the ladder. She turned and walked away from him. The sight of her ass jiggling made him hard. The blonde was thin, almost boyish with slim hips and a small, round ass that didn’t jiggle when she walked. Had a nice rack, though. Curvy girl settled on the lounge next to hers. Blondie was absorbed in her Kindle and didn’t look up. ...

Well readers I hope you like this tale of sexual interest, I am sorry that I have been absent for a while, but I have been fixated on writing two books both very shortly to be available via Pinkflamingo (See the link on gromets plaza). Titled Madam in attendance and Chloe & me. I have been a volunteer working in this stately home (a big old ancient house filled with ancient treasures and open to the public) in Great Britain for longer now than I care to remember. During my time here I have had quite unrestricted access to the place, and I discovered a few months ago that it has a deep cellar which has been deliberately hidden. Within that cellar is a hidden or forgotten about torture chamber or dungeon as they are called. Now you might expect that an old monument of a house might have such a place concealed within it, but there was one thing not quite right with this situation, and that one thing is that most, though by all means not all of the equipment conceal within the room is ancient as might be expected, a hell of a lot of it was new or at least modern made in the 1920’s; this is a torture room set up for the 20th century, not for the distant past, and I can’t help but wonder who might have been secured in their, and what had been inflicted upon them and why, and of course I mostly wanted to know by whom. ...

On the first day of Christmas my husband made of me a gift ’neath the Christmas tree. “Any time tonight.” I jabbed the intercom button. “Coming.” I checked myself in the bathroom mirror. Elf slut, definitely elf slut. I’m wearing red, spike heel ankle booties, red stockings topped with white fur, a green miniskirt so short I can see my candy cane panties, a green midi top, a jaunty Santa cap, and elf ears, pointy elf ears. ...

Med scratched the dry, parched ground. The plants were wilted and no amount of hand watering seemed to help. She looked up, used her sight. Rain! She looked deeper. It wasn’t just a passing shower, but a good, drenching rain and it was headed her way. Med smiled. It had been a long, dry month. “Medin’la.” Lost in sight, Med, startled, whirled. “Oh! Uh, yes, yes, I’m Med’la” “Medin, I am Torina’La.” ...

In a little shop down an alley off a side street on the edge of Chinatown, Sandy fondled the red, silk dress. There was nothing special about it at first glance - your basic knee-length Chinese dress with a bit of yellow piping for trim. But the sensation of it on her skin had a magical effect. She had to fight the urge to strip and give herself to the kiss of silk on her naked body. She took the dress over to the counter, set it down. It would be the perfect thing - for later. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Portrait Chapter 1: Orders)_ Chapter 2: Captured on Canvas Lady Petunia Goldwaith was learning that kindness was its own reward. She’d spared no expense making the transport box comfortable for whatever reluctant guests, prospective chambermaids (and occasional random victims plucked off the streets) she carried back to Willie Hall. Padded, well ventilated, its straps wide and soft, it permitted comfortable captivity. That she, herself, now lay in its coffin-like interior, the plush leather warm against her scantily-clad body, the wide straps snug and complete showed her how kindness repayed itself. Rocking in the gentle motion as the lorry transporting her rocked its way down narrow London streets, she could only wonder what awaited her. ...

My wife and I live in a small town in central Wisconsin. This is the type of town where everyone knows each others business or at least they think they do. My wife Karen works for a large health care corporation as a midlevel executive. This requires that she dress in a business suit daily… Let me describe my wife ultra conservative straight laced. She is 5 foot 4 but she always wears 3 inch heels. She is 50 years old still tight and toned though after three kids she has a little belly pouch she also has a 38 inch chest with nice raspberry nipples. These are kept under wraps most of the time. She is embarrassed by their size. She is still over all a pretty hot babe. Better than most 30 year olds. Karen is also low key in the bedroom no toys and only once a week Saturday night missionary position only. Ok it works and she always has an orgasm. ...

PART ONE – TIM’S TALE Chapter 1: From Bad to Worse and Seeking Help I’m not a bad person. All my friends will vouch for that. I’m quite bright, I have a university education and a job that really pays very well. I am 32, presentable, and some would say, not a bad catch. I have a pleasant demeanour, sharp sense of humour, am very tolerant of others and it takes a lot to push me to the edge. I’m not profligate, I have savings. I am generous and loyal with my friends. All in all I think I am very fortunate. ...