It was premiere night at the museum of modern art. New, rising, and “edgy” artists from the world over had come to show off their newest pieces, and Kevin hated every moment of it. His friend Bootheroy had insisted he come along after losing yet another date for the event, and Kevin was regretting accepting the invitation. There was nothing here but shapeless sculpture and collections of garbage welded together. Supposedly, it was all suppose to mean something, but Kevin couldn’t get any meaning out of anything he saw, beyond “Look at me! I’m an artist!” Even worse, he had lost Bootheroy, who had wandered off to discuss the verve of an oak tree ...

A hard knock of the door woke up Jason and Crystal to the sound of rain dancing across their bedroom window. Jason was a tall mid twenties guy with a average build and dark brown hair and eyes. Crystal was a little bit shorter than Jason in her early twenties with soft golden brown hair and dazzling crystal blue eyes. She had an athletic build and a full B-cup bust with narrow hips. Throwing the blanket off of them Jason sat up. ...

This story is a work fiction and readers are strongly encouraged not to attempt the activities listed herein without the necessary understanding of the risks and dangers inherent to said actions. The vacuum cleaner had almost completed it’s task of removing the air from between the sheets of the vac bed. Subtle in its ability to confine her in its grasp, a vac bed is intractable. Every square metre is held in place by the ocean of air we live in and tonnes of pressure compressed the thick latex to her naked flesh as tightly as her own skin. There was to be no escape. ...

She shivered as her nude form glistened in the hallway light, naked except for the leather hood that covered her head, closing her off from the outside world, blocking light, muffling sound, preventing speech. A leash hung down from the D-ring of her collar, her limbs fettered by leather cuffs and metal chains, and she stood expectantly, quivering as my hands ran over her gentle curves. I bent to lick her left nipple, squeezed by the tiny padded metal arms of a pair of nipple clamps, then removed it, quickly, and I could hear the intake of air through the hood as sensation flooded through her body. I repeated the process for her right nipple, and she shuddered. Without delay, I grasped her leash and led her forward, slowly, carefully, into our bedroom where my surprise for her waited. ...

Part One Today was a very long day at work. I have received the package I order since 11 this morning and I still have 4 more hours left till I can get home and start working on my little project. In the mean time I continue working on the plan and yes of course doing my job, when customer finally comes in. I am just a regular sales for a local electronic store, you computer parts, some car audio equipment, and other things. ...

This story was an entry for the Kink Engineering Vacbed Story Contest 2009 She called herself “Alexa T.” When she started modeling, the almost-anagram for Latex was just a spur of the moment invention, which she intended to replace with something better later on. But her first few sessions with Patrick came out so well, she was an instant hit, and so she was stuck with it. Still, there are worse fates in life than to be an internationally famous fetish model. The clothes, the travel, the parties, it was a dizzying whirlwind. Everyone wanted her, from the top designers to the best photographers, and she was determined to enjoy every minute of it while it lasted. ...

There’s something that alienates us all. Every soul upon this planet has a dark, twisted secret that lies beyond the realms of humanity, something so special and incredible it has become almost sacred. Some should be imprisoned for it. Some should be condemned for it. Some just needed a bigger mirror. Brianne’s mirror had to suffice for now, its current state being two by four feet as it hung firm to the eggshelled hue of her bedroom wall. The glass was polished just two hours ago, smooth, gleaming and flawless. Yet where it so often before reflected the white surfaces of the opposite side of the room it was days like today where the image it reflected back was black, wicked, and every bit as smooth, gleaming and flawless as the surface that rebounded such an image of lust and desire. Sculpted curves of a feminine body, well cared for as it approached later twenties, stood out from the innocent white room like a liquid string of pure sin, the dark side of the young woman’s soul coming out to play. ...

Author’s note: Breath play is dangerous. Vacbeds should never be used alone. She could not move. She could not see. She could hear only the strained rush, in and out, of air from her lungs, the surging pulse of blood coursing through her veins, the syncopated double-thrusting beat of her heart. She could feel only the pressure of the latex about her, could smell only the acidic musk of the material, a smell like sweat, like flesh, like sex. The darkness, the pressure, and the smell of the latex encased her in a timeless isolation. There was nothing else but those, and the awareness of her own body, and the hallucinatory figments of her own overactive mind reaching out in desperation for any reality to grasp hold of, even one of its own creation. ...

Andrea’s long shapely legs and firm round ass drew plenty of looks even when she wore ordinary clothing. Today, though, squeezed into a tight rubber corset, she left a steady trail of gawkers behind her. The smoothly tapered layers of her wrist and ankle cuffs looked more like fashion than function, despite the straps locked under her stilt-heeled boots. Around her neck, the matching collar fit snugly, with rings low at front and back, and higher on the sides. Reveling inwardly at the occasional whistles and catcalls, she strutted her stuff along the row of Georgetown brownstones. The short walk from the train pinked her cheeks, and the crisp fall air tightened her nipples under the sheer red spandex top, as she paused at the end of the block. After a quick glance in her compact-mirror to check her make-up, she mounted the broad granite steps. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the knocker’s massive bronze ring, and delivered three steady strokes. As the echoes faded along the sunny street and empty hallways behind the door, she reviewed her memorized instructions one last time. With a muted click, the door swung slowly open, and from down the wide corridor a cheerful voice bellowed. “Pizza guy! Cash on the kitchen counter, second door on your left, keep the change and thank you! Gold Star Catering! Set up on the foyer tables. Marissa! Get your cute butt in here, double time! Anybody else, go away!” Andrea grinned to herself, closed the door gently, and tiptoed down the hall as quietly as her boots allowed. Stopping to peek into the third door, she found the studio more festively cluttered than usual. Red carpet marked out a rough labyrinth between the projects, but with random heaps of scrap material and occasional hand-tools as decoration. “Marissa?” came a jovial question from beneath a large steel framework. ...

Tula turned off the engine and stepped out of the car at the last house. Stretching from the long drive she looked down the valley at the lights of the small town twinkling in the dusk. The flurry of snow had stopped and the clouds were breaking so she should have no problem getting the job finished and home. She set off round the house to check it was all still secure and in passing the back door she noticed vapour issuing from the boiler vent. ‘Strange’ she thought, the security firm who employed her usually e-mailed if the owners wanted something like that doing. As she rounded the corner she saw the car. It had been carefully parked by the detached garage so as to be out of sight from the front of the house. Checking her options she didn’t recognise it as one belonging to the owners. ...

April has been in a lot of bondage since she met Doug. They became life partners after an ambulance ride where he was her paramedic. That day sparked a relationship that has spanned 4 years, and one hell of a lot of bondage. She was even able to experience her ultimate bondage fantasy, being totally immobilized, unable to move, and completely isolated from the world. That adventure is chronicled in the story “Her Ultimate Bondage”. ...

First let me tell you a little about Arthur Verbrook, or Art as he prefers to be called Art wasn’t what you’d call a man of stature by any means. At 5’4 he was easily lost in a crowd and over looked by many women his entire life. To make up for this, he developed an aggressive, almost overbearing attitude that showed in both work and women, the former helping he become successful, the latter less so. Still in his mind he thought he was the top dog. ...

“Just a latte today please.” With a nod the waitress departed leaving Charles to contemplate his cocoa skinned prey. Today was the day; the culmination of several weeks observation driven by a desire to add an athletic black woman of Caribbean heritage to his collection. Veterinary school had taught him nothing of philosophy, but strangely he found a kinship with the existentialists in his work with animals, so the hunt had been a pleasure. ...

This story contains adult content and should not be made available to minors or be read by anyone who is offended by sexual materials. Feel free to repost this story as long as it is in an appropriate place for the content and as long as this disclaimer remains with it. After a short walk from where the taxi had dropped her at the curb, Kristen was stepping into her dorm for the first time. Her mothers will had provided her and her sisters with the majority of the insurance money to be used for college. Kristen had excellent records in high school and was accepted at a prominent college. A mistake in processing had provided her with the best dorm on campus. By the time the mistake was discovered, all of the general housing was gone and they let her keep it for the same price. As she made her way through the building, she was feeling a little out of her league. Knocking on the door to her room, a tall beautiful woman answered the door. Already feeling a little meek by the whole experience of leaving home for the first time, she was a little disappointed that her roommate was so hot. Part of her wished for someone homely looking and less intimidating. ...

“No,” Aimee whispered, her eyes wide with horror as she stared at the contraption before her. “Calm down,” David said, “and lets talk about this.” Aimee looked up at the man that she called “Master.” The height difference that usually made her feel safe and secure was turning ugly with every passing moment. His looming presence was feeling more like an ogre from legend than a saint. At just under six feet, David was not a tall man, but he still towered over her by at least a foot. ...

Captain’s Log, USS Hustler, Stardate 23859.11.15 1500hrs, exited warp space and reanimated crew. Doctor MacHinery reports a system malfunction occurred in Ensign Flannery’s pod when cryogenic suspension was initiated three years ago, see his report in annexe. … Report of Doctor William MacHinery, cyborg medical officer. At 1820hrs Stardate 23829.3.24, Ensign Bridget Flannery entered her cryosuspension pod 1285/16 in readiness for warp jump ordered by the Captain to occur at 1830hrs, and initiated the suspension procedure. ...

Sex with my wife Sue had become sporadic at best and I found myself trawling the internet more and more often. The more pictures of bondage I found the more I wanted. It was turning into an uncontrollable obsession. I had pictures of women in bondage, men in bondage and couples in bondage- whatever I could find. I thought I had the file full of pictures hidden deep enough on the computer but Sue must have become suspicious because she had hunted through every file until she found my porn. Instead of getting mad at me and screaming “pervert” to the world she simply said five words which changed my life “Give me your credit card”. ...

Sarah and Raven were not a pair you would expect to be best friends, but they were roommates their freshman year of college and their friendship grew as the semesters passed. Raven was your typical campus hottie, 5'6”, flowing brunette locks, big breasts, flat stomach, and a belly button ring that she showed off all the time. She was always the center of attention, whether it was being friendly with everyone or getting stares from all the guys… and a few ladies too. Sarah on the other hand was a plain lady. She spent more time with her books than out in public. She wore her blond hair back in a ponytail and often wore her glasses. She had a librarian kind of look to her but underneath all that she had a nice body that would get a few glances if it ever saw the light of day. ...

John is so in. It’s John’s 18th birthday and he is about to receive what his mistress has referred to as his “initiation into manhood and the service of his mistress.” The mistress in question, Sandra is a twenty-five-year-old who has recently warmed to the idea of being a cougar since she and John expressed mutual feelings for each other about three months ago. They had met a while before that and through a series of fortuitous circumstances, discovered that they shared a strong interest in bondage, domination, and the wide world of fetishes. ...

The unforgiving florescent lighting stung my eyes as I slowly came to. My head was still a bit cloudy, but I knew that I was lying on the floor. The smooth surface felt cold against my bare skin. As my brain seemed to catch up, new sensations emerged. The most prominent was my aching jaw. I tried to alleviate my discomfort, but my arms failed to respond appropriately…remaining pinned behind my back. ...