Chapter 1: The New Job A large stone room with stone walls and vaulted ceilings. In it, a group of women, all but one dressed in black. They are wearing tight, shiny clothing - rubber? - gas masks, corsets. Not a single square inch of skin is visible. One is limp, barely conscious, several tubes and wires coming from her head and groin area. Her feet, clad in ballet heel boots, are dragging on the ground. The others are carrying her. The last woman follows, wearing red latex. Her face is blank, the only visible feature a zipper covering her mouth. She takes notes on a clipboard. ...

Part 9 There were a great many things that Brianna Wilde had never expected to experience in her life. Such as becoming the bondage plaything of her next door neighbors for example, or that relationship growing to the point where she could not imagine being with anyone else. At least not in such a permanent fashion. Discovering the seemingly infinite well of fetishes within herself had also been quite surprising, if not quite as surprising as learning that she had the potential to be a witch and the revelation that’s had actually had sex with a werewolf. But somehow all of that seemed almost insignificant in comparison to the fact that right now she found herself walking virtually naked through a crowd with nothing more than a harness of thin leather straps covering her body, head held high and every inch of her so turned on by the experience that she almost could not stand it. And yet, if the last year had taught her anything it was to expect the unexpected. After so many life changing events and personal revelations “normal” now seemed so very relative. Even with all of that, however, as little as an hour ago she would never have imagined, even in her wildest and kinkiest dreams, that she would ever find herself leading one of her mistresses on a leash. Nevertheless, as she glanced back surreptitiously to make certain that she wasn’t imagining things, the blue-haired girl could not help but smile at the sight of Sofia’s long, lean frame sheathed in skintight black latex, hands cuffed behind her back and a modest ball gag made of mirror polished steel filling her mouth. A gag that Brianna herself had been wearing not so long ago. Combined with a simple blindfold those simple bonds rendered the woman utterly helpless and unable to do anything but follow the tug of the leash around her throat, struggling all the while as she tried to wriggle out of her cuffs and shake the gag loose. Actions which achieved little save to make her muscles practically ripple within their encasement, light playing off the shiny rubber covering her in a glittering display as blonde hair flew about her head like strands of gold. A fact that the woman herself seemed to understand at least somewhat as her struggles had slowly morphed into something both playful and deliberately provocative, as if she were putting on a show rather than seriously trying to escape. A marked change from her earlier indignant protests and muffled demands, almost as if her mistress had grown intrigued by this reversal of roles and was curious what might happen next. ...

It was a Friday and the delivery person dropped off a package at the front door, from one of those foreign online order places. Got the box and took it inside. When I took the box inside I got a text message on my phone that read, “I have hacked your bank accounts and identity, as you may notice the package you have in your possession right now was ordered using your credentials that I have created for you. In order to keep your accounts and identity from being exposed and your life into ruins, you need to do exactly as instructed… more to come”. ...

Part 2: A cog in the machine Stepping out into the cool night air, Melissa felt a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. Glancing back at her house, she could see the faint glow of her maidbot’s eyes watching her from the window. Taking a deep breath, she started her journey towards the party venue. The walk was uneventful, the quiet streets offering no challenge to her disguise. Melissa, disguised flawlessly as a maidbot, arrived at the grand house where the costume party was being held. As she approached the brightly lit house, music thrumming through the walls, she felt a thrill course through her – a mix of excitement and nervousness. Would she be able to pull this off? What if someone recognized her as human? Looking at her reflection in a window, she touched the collar around her neck, feeling the cold metal against her skin, and read the identification tag printed on it. She was Unit 734-B now. “I am Unit 734-B, at your service,” she said with her voice altered to sound robotic. Clad in the maidbot’s uniform, her skin now a smooth, synthetic canvas, and her voice a soft, electronic hum, she told herself that she looked and sounded like a maidbot. To the eyes and ears, she was no longer Melissa, but a maidbot. ...

Amanda was the only employee who actually enjoyed* the compulsory morning exercise sessions required by her Company. She really liked all the bending and stretching that everyone else hated and objected to and soon took to wearing a skimpy leotard that showed off her slender, flexible body to best advantage. Being naturally slim and a fitness enthusiast, it was easy for her to outdo her female colleagues, many of whom were “larger ladies” and without really meaning to, Amanda unwittingly managed to annoy quite a few of them with her enthusiasm and exhortations for them to “go for the burn” and reminders that there was “no gain without pain.” ...

It had been almost a year since my last outdoor self-bondage session. I had been fantasizing about a new scenario for some time now. Finally, spring weather arrived and temperatures have become more agreeable. The mountains still had lots of snow but the hills were lush in green and flowery colors. The last couple of days had seen some rain spells, but the weather forecast for the weekend looked promising. A few days ago I read about a new toy and decided I wanted to try it out during my session. I bought it on Sunday, but on Thursday the package was still at the distribution center and all I got were notifications about its delayed delivery. Frustrated, I had half given up on my play and made arrangements to go on a cycling tour with friends for the weekend. ...

An excerpt from the Welcome to the Viking Village pamphlet: The first hard evidence of a Viking settlement in what is now Rhode Island was discovered in 1963 by Sven Olsen, an amateur archaeologist exploring his 640 acre farm. His discoveries were ignored for several decades, but eventually they were accepted and endorsed by academic archaeologists. This vindication pleased Sven, and when he died he willed the property to the Olsen Viking Village Trust. ...

CHAPTER 8 ❤SISSYCon: EMBRACING YOUR TRUE COLORS A few days later, the warm water cascaded over Ash’s hands as he diligently scrubbed the last of the breakfast plates, his mind drifting aimlessly. The rhythmic sound of water and soap provided a soothing backdrop to his thoughts, offering a momentary respite. As he finished the last dish, the clinking of plates subsided, replaced by a sense of satisfaction at the tidy kitchen. He wiped his hands on a nearby towel, turning towards the living room where the inviting glow of the television awaited him. ...

Part 5 I awoke slowly, feeling something hard against my back. I came to with that delightful feeling of being in bondage with Alex snuggling against me, his cock hard and digging into me. Of course, as the obedient little slave girl I was, I positioned him against my ass and began grinding on him. I’m not sure if he was that deeply asleep or just enjoying my playing, but it took him several minutes to be aware of my moving around. Eventually Alex maneuvered himself enough to slip my plug out and slide his cock into my ass. I mmmpphh-ed in pleasure around the breather gag I had in. ...

Feb 5, 2024, 11:35 AM - I’ve been sealed in rubber since 11:00 last night. I am wearing two heavy weight rubber suits, one is shoulder entry, the second suit is a heavy suit designed after a drysuit with waterproof zippers. Even now sweat and piss are sloshing around in the lower part of the suits but there is no leakage. The shifting fluid provides an amazing erotic feeling. It is a cross between a light massage and the water jets of a spa. I know many rubberists prefer caths or some sort of collection bag but for some weird reason, I really get off on knowing I have no control of my body fluids and the rubber seals it all safely inside my rubber world. ...

Burning Bridges Intro Ariana Inoue is a 25 year old Japanese woman. She has a naturally slender body and cute face. Both are the envy of many men and women. She has a small B-cup and she stands about 140cm tall. Long black hair flows down to about her butt and she rarely wears makeup other than some eye liner. Ariana has been working from home, doing contract jobs she finds online. Often she sorts out administration problems. Or doing account reviews before tax submissions. She does Japanese and English translations from time to time as well. ...

22: The Bondage School 1 “If you want to see more, give me a thumbs up and don’t forget to add a subscription!” squealed Summer’s AI-generated voice from the laptop. Summer herself stared in horror at the video she had just watched. It showed her tying herself up in a vacuum bed and orgasming over and over again for hours. “Is that… is that on the internet?” Summer asked the police officer in front of her. He shook his head. ...

To say I was nervous was an understatement. I could feel my heart beating heavily in my ears, becoming quicker at a rather alarming pace. I was sure someone watching me from the outside of the suit could have easily seen my heart beating against my chest. Though, it was all understandable. It was an uncomfortable and scary situation. It hadn’t been that often Cleo, Poppy and I had seen the world outside the property. It had only been a handful of times and that was only to have a quick shop for some items. Donna never liked the thought of us being alone in the house whilst she was outside and she always saw it as a good thing that we were in the public, being sociable with normal people. ...

My name is Becky Jackson. I am half owner of a fetish magazine / website and a reporter. I am known for unbiased reporting and product reviews. Since I love being tied up, I enjoy trying out new things and I normally have no shortage of products and services to choose from. After hanging out in the city’s fetish community I had heard and read several stories and seen even more comics about a place called The Rubber Asylum. The stories go: this place is an organization where people, not all voluntary, go to experience behavior modification through intense rubber, bondage and sexual training. The stories of the experience are always intensely sexual and get the desired results. With all the stories out there, I decided to look into it, on the side of course. Imagine my surprise when I found out a place like that really existed. I started looking into it more thoroughly and discovered that most of the stories were, at least, partially accurate. They did everything the stories talked about but only to willing participants that knew what was going to happen. Naturally I called and made an appointment for an interview and possibly a tour. ...

Phase I: Preparation I had lots of time, and the urge, so I gave in and started a bondage session. Short of the house burning down I was guaranteed I wouldn’t be disturbed. Off came all the clothes, a tradition where I would be discouraged from seeking outside help. One of my goals, just to make the scenario more of a challenge, was minimal mobility. Once I was suitably weighed down, I’d make my way climbing up the basement stairs to the floor above. Naturally the keys would be available only after negotiating some type of difficult and time-consuming task. When I finished, all the means to enable my release would go into a sturdy safe bolted to the concrete floor. The safe in turn could only be opened with a specific key, which was located upstairs. Once the door was shut, I was committed to either an indefinite stay in the restraints or somehow making my way to the where the safe key was located, and then back again to the basement. Obtaining that key would present an additional set of challenges. Unless I completed my round trip, I would be severely limited in any future activities. ...

Jill sat quietly in the passenger seat as Rick accelerated down the open stretch of route 192. It was a Wednesday afternoon. Traffic was light. She toyed absently with her short black hair. “Nervous?” came the question from the driver. It startled Jill from her thoughts. “Yeah, a little,” she lied. She was actually freaked out, but didn’t want to disappoint her lover. Rick reached over to stroke her bare leg. “Good,” he said calmly. “It adds to the excitement.” He worked his hand up till he was toying with the button on her shorts. ...

Part 7 Alice and I had put Eva into slave storage a couple of hours ago after she’d tidied away the breakfast dishes. She was naked, lying on a mattress in the spare room with her hands bound behind her back and ankles tied together. She was kept in place by a short rope tying her collar to a pipe next to the wall. “Good morning slave,” said Jeannie as we entered the room. ...

Return to Paradise Part Three I assessed my personal condition after my time in Paris. After two and a half days sealed in four day old sweat and piss, my skin was on fire and every inch of it itched mercilessly. I needed a shower, a very long shower. I hoped the shower would help, or else I would have to postpone my trip to Amsterdam for a couple of days. I was going by train so postponing travel would be rather easy. ...

“So it was abandoned, just like that?” “Yeah, like I said, they just up and left, and now it’s just a derelict. Cool, right?” The pair were standing up against an old, rusted fence, peering through the hazy twilight at an old hulk of a building, perched at the very edge of their hometown. It was a ruined edifice that might once have been beautiful; flowing lines and clean surfaces on the exterior now pockmarked with corrosion and stained with decay. ...

Part 1: The Metamorphosis Melissa stood in front of the mirror, pouting as the maid outfit she ordered for the costume party was much smaller than she had anticipated. She needed a solution quickly, as she didn’t want to miss the party. Looking around her bedroom, her eyes fell on her maidbot. It was quietly cleaning the room, its body slender and unassuming. A devious idea crossed her mind. Smiling slyly, Melissa approached the maidbot. “You know, I have a problem,” she began, her voice dripping with a hint of authority. “I have this costume party to attend and the outfit I ordered is too small. But you seem to fit perfectly into yours.” ...