continued from part 12 Chapter 13: Confessions of a Latex Maid ‘S’ left the training room head held high proud of her ability to take her daily whipping in her stride, indeed to take sexual pleasure as she had been trained to turn pain into pleasure and to be proud of ability to do so. The Mistress led the way to a completely new area of the large house with ‘S’ in tow. ‘S’ wore her slave collar at all times padlocked on. The Mistress kept the key to the padlock hanging from a silver chain around her neck to underline her control over her charge. ‘S’ felt almost light headed at the prospect of meeting up with her Master after an immeasurable period of time. ...

Jack Sherwood, III had spent the majority of his adolescence in Boarding School. The only choice after Phillips Exeter was whether he would follow in his Father’s footsteps at Harvard or his mother’s legacy at Dartmouth. Ultimately, Harvard won out and he enjoyed all the privileges that old money and connections can provide, including membership in the exclusive Fox Club. Now, academic life was but a distant memory. Toiling in lower Manhatten for a 2nd year at a trading desk for Goldman was a daily 12 hour grind. He hardly had time for his girlfriend, Rachel, other than the weekends, and realized with apprehension that this relationship was being neglected. He had recently bought a flat in Soho, so as not to have too far to work. He was thinking that the upper east side would be more suitable, but it would add 20 minutes to his commute each day. ...

“Uncle Dave? You know who that is don’t you?” “Who?” “The redhead over yonder.” Dave shrugged. “Said she was in culinary school and as a class project she had to help in the cook-off.” “Well, that’s Caitlin Ballard, old man Ballard’s granddaughter.” “You sure? Said her name was Tracy Simms or Simmons, something like that.” “Uh uh. She goes to Western. They play us in basketball. She’s a cheerleader and they had a picture of the squad in the program. I kinda had a thing for her, so I asked around. She’s old man Ballard’s kin for sure.” ...

During free time like I have available to me today, I celebrate the invention of the trash bag. Just how great is it that we have this product: a bag made of soft, slick plastic which we not only pack our trash into, but can wear and sleep in. I love trash bags on their own, for the shiny, slick look of them and the lovely way they fit against my body. The plastic caresses me gently at first, and then, after five or so minutes, it fits me like a second skin as my naked body heat causes it to cling to me. It’s wonderful to have a bag-like sheath of polyethylene to slip into, allowing that plastic to take us to never-boring sexual flights of fancy. ...

“You can do what?” Bob smiled, not in the least surprised by the patent disbelief in Melissa’s voice. After all, what he’d just told her was, by all definition, impossible. “I can change things,” he said again. “With my mind. I’m not sure exactly how it works, but if I’m close to something, I can visualize the change I want, and it happens.” The two stood in Melissa’s living room, Melissa perfectly dressed as always, Bob looking somewhat more casual in baggy coveralls. Slowly, Melissa shook her head. ...

“Damn her.” Enviously, Jenna South watched as the expensive vehicle emerged from the walled estate, gliding smoothly up the road on its repulsor field. Inside the vehicle, she knew, rode her former friend, former rival, current enemy and future victim, Aya North. “As close as North and South,” had been a catch phrase throughout high school to describe these unlikely friends. “Opposites attract,” would have been just as appropriate. Tall, willowy Jenna South and short, lush Aya North, all through high school, the two had been inseperable, going everywhere together, sharing everything. Then came college. ...

That Vinny is a sick bastard. The gorilla creased the heavy, white cardboard, folded it in half. He picked up the unconscious girl and laid her on it, made a couple of marks, lifted her off and proceeded to undress her. Surprisingly, for a goon like Vinny, he has a very delicate touch, plays Mozart on a harpsichord. No lie. The room was in an apartment, an apartment that had been wired. People who shouldn’t be there, doing things they shouldn’t be doing, with people they shouldn’t be with were regularly filmed. The resulting video ensured a certain amount of cooperation from those people. ...

When Andrew returned home his wife, Laura, was waiting for him. She had an oval shaped face, cool, blue eyes which were almost cat-like, and a rich full mouth. Her brown, waved hair was tied back but several strands had come loose. She wore a clinging t-shirt and tight hipsters that emphasised her slim, shapely figure and large breasts. “Oh Andrew I’ve missed you.” she said and hugged him. ...

(story continues from Night of the Living Dolls Chapter 10: A fight unlike any other) Author’s note: This is a serial that is a mixture of humor and horror that revolves around the “end of the world " idea. There are scenes of sexuality, profanity and mild violence so if this bothers you, please move onto the nearest G rated story. Otherwise, enjoy! Chapter 11: Games and Action and Dolls, oh my! ...

Ever since Techster’s last job went away when the company he had been working for was a victim of the current economy. He handled it well and is able to keep our family going with a combination of odd jobs. These jobs included writing several books that were published by a vanity publisher so his return is low. To further boost our income he is working for a local Domina as she is setting up a new dungeon. ...

Shawn knew her schedule well. He knew she was a successful sales representative and her home was her office. Almost like clockwork, if the sun was out on a weekday morning and she had no appointments, she swapped her expensive tailored business suits for a string bikini and was poolside tanning her fantastically formed body. Hid away from the public view by the private walled-in yard, her swimsuit was often removed to give her entire body a nice even tan. ...

(story continues from Maid Service Requested) Part 2: Do Not Disturb (The sequel to Maid Service Requested) For Alexandra, it had been a very good meeting. She had finished up her presentation of the building’s features and now it was in the hands of all the various contractors and workers to take it from paper to concrete, steel and glass. Alexandra was very good at what she did. Not only was she a qualified architect, but she also was damn fine in the looks department. She kept her six-foot frame well toned and she always dressed to emphasize her curves, such as with the gray business suit she was wearing now. Alex had long, coppery hair she kept in flowing curls and deep green eyes that could disarm any man or woman when she wanted to. Today she had used all of her charms at the meeting and now she intended to use them for what was awaiting her in the hotel room. ...

(story continues from The Visitor) Chapter Two Part 3: The Club Maegen showed up that evening at around 7:00 in full dominatrix regalia, stiletto knee length boots, leather bustier over a spandex cat suit, leather gloves, all black. On her lean and spare frame, her outfit looked sinister and sexy. Her hair was now also all black and pulled into a severe ponytail. She wore heavy mascara and black lipstick. She struck a pose in the doorway that was one part self-conscious and one part arrogant. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy/warning only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death. I have visited several story sites and am always fascinated and inspired by the reading. I have been submissive and into bondage my entire remembering life and except for a few occasions have practiced SB. Some time ago I was captivated by a picture on a comic site and decided to see if I could make it a reality of SB. This is the story of that experience. ...

It’s not that Chloe didn’t trust men, she didn’t trust anybody, well, not enough for this. What if, right in the middle of it, he had a heart attack? Like in that Stephen King book. She had let Mark tie her up, but she’d insisted on the fuzzy handcuffs and having the key. And it was okay, sort of. She couldn’t really get into it. What if she came so hard that she dropped the key? What if she dropped the key AND Mark had a heart attack!? No. Better to have total control. ...

continued from part one Part 2: Caught! “Jesus Christ!” “What?” “Bag weighs a fucking ton!” Hands groped Chloe. “This ain’t uniforms, Charlie.” More groping. “Sure as hell not. Feels like a body.” “You don’t think …” “Only one way to find out.” Chloe felt herself hefted out of the bin. She landed with a thump on the concrete floor. Light poured into the bag and she clamped her eyes shut. “Son of a bitch.” ...

I found a secluded spot not far from home where I could finally put myself into some outdoor bondage, something I hadn’t done in years. The night before I filled a plastic jug half way with water. After it was frozen I put the keys I would need on top then filled it the rest of the way. Once frozen it would take about four hours to melt before the keys could be retrieved. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy & warning only, to attempt this in real life will result in serious injury or death. I have been plagued by a very strange sexual fetish and fantasy my entire life. It is now so strong and motivating that it impossible to resist, although God knows that I have tried. What I am about to attempt to satisfy this overwhelming passion and lust is unthinkable by a sane person but my desires are compelling and I have decided to yield and submit to them. ...

(story continues from Human Interest 7) Part Eight Chapter 14: The Welcome Wagon Lunch as usual was served picnic-style on the lawn. Mistress Ella and Irish were just finishing their salads when the main gate creaked and squeaked as it rolled open to let the prison bus in. The bus ran quietly along the back of the parking lot and down behind the equipment barn to the consignment pony stables so as not to attract the attention of the regular ranch guests. Actually, if you didn’t know it was from the Chowchilla Correctional Facility, you couldn’t tell as the Lloyd’s Farm Equipment Rental paint scheme wouldn’t seem the least bit out of place. ...

For many years now I have had a strong desire/need to be trapped, enclosed and left in a Furry Heaven. This is something that had been beyond my reach and was much too purvey for most of my friends to know about or even understand. So, on a visit to my long time bondage buddy, he had a little surprise for me. We met up as usual for lunch and a chat and then went for a couple of drinks. All seemed as normal. We went back to his place and went down to his Dungeon. I noticed to my delight and surprise a large bear suit draped over the bench. He looked at me and smiled. ...