It had been just two days since Emma had left me tied to a park bench in the rain. By the time Hanna had arrived to rescue me, I’d been soaked through and tormented by my hair. Barely loosening in its sock bun, it had become a sodden uncomfortably heavy ball on top of my weary head. My tears, mixed with my makeup and Emma’s pussy juices, had been streaming down my face as she greeted me. Tears from the oppressive lust that tormented me, as my own wet pussy soaked my panties and my clit trembled and quivered demanding to be touched. Emma had left me a needy and humiliated horny mess! ...

When a sexual woman is refused any release, her body begins to constantly crave what she cannot have. The creative forces inside her begin to think of new and creative ways to make herself orgasm, or punish those that are able to. When that woman is a bondage enthusiast her creativity turns into border line cruelty in her thoughts and dreams. Claire lived to orgasm, her favorite way to orgasm was in strict, excessively tight bondage. ...

Sally’s Subject II: Put to the Question Too Much* When Denny opened his eyes and looked around, he found nothing to offer him hope or explanation. He was sitting in a very small room, barely more than a closet, propped up in a corner with his back to the wall. The floor was cold concrete, there were no windows, and the one door was a solid metal barrier with no way to open it from the inside. ...

Chapter 21 I finally breathed a long sigh of relief the moment the van pulled back up to the stable. My body was exhausted from a day of delivering parcels and I still had a long journey until we were back home. The sun was beginning the descent down the horizon, bringing the beautiful blue day to a bright orange, looking as if the star had set the sky on fire. Whilst it was amazing to look at, the dark clouds floating above me began to make me nervous, realising that the weather might not be as good for the journey home; I was getting desperate to return Becky back to Tanya’s. ...

Mia relaxed on the king-sized bed of her hotel suite, reading a magazine while she wound down for the evening. Her black hair was done up in a ponytail and situated over her right shoulder as she read. She sighed, taking in the relaxing weekend Alan had arranged for her. He couldn’t join her since he was out of the country on business, but he had paid for her to go to Philadelphia for the weekend and be pampered at one of the state’s best spas. She started packing that morning as soon as she got the email from him explaining the surprise he had arranged for her and she was in Philly just in time to check into the hotel and head to her appointment. ...

Wasn’t the best start to her Halloween. Turned away from the party because she wasn’t in fancy dress! A fuming youngster seeing some of her college friends all being allowed in, Jessie, Monica and Dawn. All wearing daft blood-spattered dresses while hers, a simple plain white calf-length one and matching heels that she’d hoped would make her appear like a ghost wasn’t good enough. Slightly comforted however at getting a text from her best friend Julia or Jules, who was supposed to be here but she too had been turned away along with her boyfriend. Had the girl been on her own Cheryl might have suggested they meet up. ‘OK, see you at College on Monday 1000. Jules xxx’ ...

The Pitch “How’d you like to attend a “Halloween” Costume Con in San Francisco, my treat?” Maggie texted him. “What do you mean by my treat?” Phil asked. “I make the reservations, register you for the Convention, plan out the meals. You just have to drive down and park," she answered back. “Sounds delightful, when is it?” he replied. “Last Weekend in October,” was her prompt response. Checking his calendar he replied back “I can make that work, all I do is drive down and park?” ...

It was that time of year again. Myself and a few others had been given our annual tasks of going up to the surface, and the land of Mankind, to seek out those that The Boss deemed worthy of becoming His new quota of minions. He did this every one hundred years and at last, tonight on October 31st, it was time to go topside and hunt down no less than fifty human souls, which I and my fellow demons deemed to be unworthy of existing among their fellow humans. We would seek out both men and women who were bullies to their fellows. Persons without whom the world would be a far better place. I had already consigned one man and three women to the eternal fires of Hell and with one hour left until the clocks struck midnight, I was making my way towards my final unsuspecting target. ...

…“What do you want to do for Halloween THIS year dear?” I asked my significant other. “I’ve got nothing, literally not a clue,” he responded back. I feel the same way to be honest, so I can’t find fault, I’m just not into it at all this year particularly. We simply don’t get near the volume of trick-or-treaters like we used to back before covid; there used to be easily a hundred, but last year that number was maybe fifteen total, to include the little ones on our block and their precious costumes though. It was at one time a great way to get reacquainted with the neighbors, just a fun party-like night, but if last year was any sign of the times we knew it would be all over shortly after dusk, and we’d be left with far too much extra candy in the house… ...

“…Tell me everything," I commanded my present boyfriend. He came home perhaps a little later than I had anticipated, likely telling me he had a far better time than he might like to admit to, or at the very least a more exciting one. This one actually had potential, unlike the last very serious boyfriend who actually thought he could somehow “own” me; nobody owns me! Finding the limits of that potential had a certain element of risk though, but I was willing to allow him to assume that risk to see if he was truly my version of “trainable,” and therefore by extension “keepable” in the long term, as in ‘potential husband material’. I know this might sound harsh, but I finally knew what I wanted in a life partner now, and this man had many of those hard to find attributes. I personally brought a lot to the table myself - all humility aside - but I also expected a lot, as in a high degree of loyalty, and open mindedness to what could become a very non-traditional union a few years down the proverbial road. ...

Sid is a good friend of mine from days long past. He has fallen on hard times. A lot of the men… and women… who have been the places we have been and done the things which we have done, have been overwhelmed by what has been burned into their memory once they try to “return to society.” Many, like Sid, try to drown the memories of what they saw… or did. When that didn’t work, he fell totally apart… booze, broads, drugs, everything, until he ran out of money and then did whatever it took to get another bottle or another fix. Sid became a homeless bum. But he was there with us. So he is still one of us. So we are still there with him. ...

Halloween Props Phil’s friend Beverly texted him a week or so before Halloween “You’ll never believe it!” “Believe what?” he asked back reasonably. “A friend of a friend has a contract to decorate for a massive Halloween party for a giant tech company! And I am being asked to help make some of the props!” Phil could sense his friend was excited. “Isn’t this a little short notice?” Phil wondered. ...

Chapter 1 With Halloween a week away, Jennifer was shopping for costumes in a local party shop. Rummaging in the bottom of a dusty bin, she was surprised to find a couple of Robomaid boxes. Robomaids? She had heard of them. As far as she could tell, they were just android bodies packaged as a sexy maid. She knew there had been a whole series of federal laws passed, to limit their public presence. She didn’t remember why. She hadn’t really paid attention, since it wasn’t like somebody with her income could afford anything so expensive. In fact, Robomaids weren’t even available in her part of the country. Local conservatives had joined the religious right, fighting against the infiltration of ‘false humans’ into society. They had pressured the state legislature into further limiting the function of Robomaids in public. As a result, the local market for artificial maids had yet to take off. ...

Chapter 1 The next day, the maids were up early. It had been a terrible night’s sleep, interrupted by the frequent squeaking of rubber. Their sparse dreams had been repeatedly spiced with sexual urges they couldn’t seem to satisfy. Upon awakening, they both groaned. Their reality was every bit as bad as their dreams. After untangling her pointy heels from the sheets, Dani sat on the edge of the bed and felt her leash flop into her lap. She ran her hand down it, then reached up to feel the metal ring around her neck. She had slept in the thing all night, and barely noticed it. She remarked, “Jen forgot to take off our collars!” ...

John has the best Halloween parties ever. I attended the first one of his parties ten years ago. I’m not on the guest list, never have been, but no one knows that. There are always a lot of party crashers at John’s Halloween parties. Part of the thrill of John’s parties is that everyone is totally anonymous. Many years ago such masked parties were quite the rage, but modern costumes and disguises are so much better. In fact, reasonably priced modern latex masks and stage makeup are so good that some guests can arrive, participate in hours of decadent pleasure, and then leave without anyone ever knowing who they are. ...

Prelude “So what are we doing for Halloween?” he asked innocently enough. “I have plans,” she responded wickedly. “I was hoping that you did,” he smiled back. “Can you be available from say six till 10ish that day?” knowing full well he’d beg to be involved in her idea. He answered quickly, “Of course, whatever you need me to do.” “Whatever?” she purred. “Yes ma’am, whatever.” “Just remember you said that.” He could hear her chuckling “I’ll be providing your costume, wear some skimpy undies.” ...

Belinda Barnotti, known to her friends as BB, stood at the entrance to the Witch Hill Nunnery Museum silently debating with herself. She was almost a Doctor of Anthropology. All that was left for her to gain her PhD was to complete her thesis. Then she had to make a name for herself by turning that thesis into a book. That would make her a well-known anthropologist. Well-known anthropologists get teaching jobs in prestigious universities. Unknown anthropologists end up in the basement of a museum cataloging things that no one will ever see. ...

You are in a forest. It is night. The place is oddly familiar but you are confused by the darkness. Your arms are bound behind you and, when you look down, you see that you are naked. You know that you are being hunted and when you hear the baying of the hounds and shrill wail of horns you begin to run. The loam of the forest floor is soft and cushions your bare feet but you quickly realise it also saps the strength from your legs, hampering your progress, slowing you and fuelling your fear. Oddly, the fact that you are bound is comforting. Your lover enjoys binding you and you enjoy it when she restrains you. She is a skilled lover and when she teases you while bound, her cool fingers caressing your bare skin, tracing down between your breasts and across your belly, your body burns with desire long before the those slender fingers find their way between your thighs to stroke your eager sex and push your body to a pleasure that sometimes makes you scream. ...

In a forgotten corner of the world, beneath an ancient, crumbling temple, lay a hidden chamber. Candles flickered ominously, their shadows dancing across the stone walls, casting eerie shapes that seemed to writhe and twist. At the center of this sinister lair stood an ornate, gilded lamp, its surface intricately engraved with scenes of pleasure and pain—a testament to the power it contained. You had always been curious about the stories whispered in the dark alleys of the city. Tales of a genie who granted desires but twisted them into dark fantasies. With a heart racing from both excitement and trepidation, you approached the lamp, reaching out to caress its cool surface. The air around you crackled with energy as you summoned the courage to rub it. ...

The Karodang house has been on the side of the hill… forever. There are some old frontier pictures of great-great-great-grandma’s sod house from when they first settled their farm and the old stone house is in the background sticking out of “Granite Hill” as the locals call it. Some people from the state university came down and dug around a little both inside and outside of Karodang. Their only conclusion was, “It’s old.” They also said, “Maybe it was used as a hunting shelter.” But they couldn’t find any evidence of anyone having actually lived there. There were no fire pits or pieces of pottery or arrowheads or anything like that to indicate it was used as a dwelling. “Maybe it was supposed to be a tomb,” one of them said as they gathered up their things to leave. He added just before he left, “That word carved into the stone above the door is Kerudung. It’s an Indonesian word for mirror or something like that, but it’s written in what appears to be a variation of an old Indonesian alphabet. I wonder how that language got way the hell over here. I wonder even more how people around here knew to call this… whatever it is… something so close to that.” ...