(story continues from Part 5)_ ### Chapter 6 Amanda squirmed in her bonds, trying to get free. The young blonde was lying on the bed nude, her wrists locked in leather cuffs behind back and her ankles cuffed to the foot of the bed. A red leather collar was encircled her neck and a stout chain ran from it to the head of the bed, effectively pinning her there. She could put her wrists to one side of her or the other, but that was about it. She couldn’t even look to see her cuffed wrists in the position she was in. The penis-shaped gag was now making her jaw ache but worse of all, the gel the man had rubbed into her sex was driving her nuts, giving her a tingling itch that she couldn’t relieve. ...

(story continues from Part 8)_ ### Chapter 9 Ray whistled while he peeled the carrots. He could hear his wife through the open bedroom door. She was trying to scream for his attention through her black leather peargag. Ray imagined that the words she was trying to yell were not pleasant, but this wouldn’t be the first time. Janice had cuffed herself for him and now she had to suffer the consequences. Besides, he knew all the ruckus she made was because she was as horny as hell. If she was really in trouble, she would have hummed their ‘safe tune’. No, he knew her pussy was itching for someone to scratch it. ...

(story continues from Part 1)_ ### Chapter 2 Amanda’s heart sank as she heard her sister Cassandra starting to sob through her gag. Neither of their captors had moved. The man was holding a riding crop, tapping it into one hand. The woman just held her crop by her side. Both were looking at Sandy as her tears made dark trails from her eyeliner. “Now, I don’t know who is who,” the man said, talking with a slight southern accent, “and I really don’t care. You, young lady. . .” The man pointed his crop at Amanda, still bound naked above her sister; her hands bound behind her back and her mouth gagged with an obscene gag with a black gel dildo protruding out of it. “. . .you are going to be known as number 1.” The woman, Mistress, turned and went over to the armoire and removed from it a red leather collar. On the front, a big chrome number 1 was emblazoned. Without a word, the woman Amanda knew as Mistress fastened the collar around her neck, locking it into place. “Now, 1, you have pleased us with your performance here. You made your sister here cum and that means you aren’t going to be whupped. However, your sister there isn’t going to be as fortunate. She’s going to learn firsthand not to disappoint us.” Ray smiled, listening to Cassandra’s renewed sobs. Both young blondes were gorgeous, being bound in a ‘69‘ position and glistening from their sexual efforts. Number 1’s breast dangled down over her sister, jiggling as she caught her breath. The other twin lay on her back, her eyes closed and her head turned away from the couple. ...

(story continues from Part 4)_ ### Chapter 5 As she watched her sister being led out of the room, Cassandra felt her soul just flush down the toilet, leaving just a fragile shell behind. The door shut with certain finality and she was left with her own pain and the woman. Her jaw was starting to hurt, because she was forced to bite down on the gag in a certain way. Her shoulder ached from her hands being stretched to the ceiling. ...

There are few things that upset me more than a client who comes to me at the last minute. And right now I am pretty upset. The annual party for the local BDSM club in which I am actually a member was coming up and I already had more than enough work to do. But as the date got close, I got multiple texts, emails, and voicemails all of which began, “W, would it be possible…” ...

He wakes to pitch black, his mouth dry and sore, his arms and legs stiff and throbbing, his body assailed by pinches, stabs and needles. He lurches up and slams into something hard. His body does not work right. Nothing moves and everything hurts. He hears scrapes and rattles and gasps. He remembers he is in her dungeon. They went down the rabbit hole, chained to a steel pillar in a concrete cell. He pulls against the chains, fighting their grip. Panic floods his brain. Fear rises in his throat. He must escape; he must get out of the chains. Deep in his mind, the wail begins. ...

8 8 Dream a Little Dream Nancy Slave I check in at the hotel and ask as an afterthought if the adjoining room is available. I was almost hoping that it wasn’t, but wanted to ask. The room was available, so I took it. I settled in gave and him a call. It was strange to hear the phone ring in the adjoining room and to hear him move to answer the phone. There were a thousand different scenarios running through my mind including all the ways in which this could go wrong. I convinced myself that if I was wrong then I am already far too exposed to truly back out. I reached up and knocked on the door. It seemed to take forever but he opened the door. We said hello and all I could think of to say was that I am so scared. He replied that he is nervous as well. I could see that he was uncomfortable. He added that he would do as he said he would which I something I have heard him say many times. It was strange to see him with his clothes on and to actually look into his eyes. ...

For some, it might have been a dream assignment. Josie wasn’t so sure. She’d been sent to research and write a feature article for the hip magazine she’d been dying to work for, ever since she’d embarked on her journalism career. But the glint in the eye of the editor had told her to beware. The editor was sending her to the newest club in town, to review it. Alright, thought Josie, as she dressed for her interview with the club owner, I can do this. It’s just a review, a few witty comments and a little psychological analysis of the clients. Easy. Just try to ignore the fact that the club is in fact a sex club’ well, not sex exactly, not in the sense of back street brothels and dodgy lapdancing joints. It was an exclusive, highly-regarded club. It was, of course, expensive. The owner was very selective about the clients he admitted, but had been known to give freebies to those he thought would really appreciate what the club had to offer. ...

(story continues from Dream Assignment)_ This story stands on its own, but it is actually a sequel – a while ago I wrote a story called Dream Assignment, which is in the archives of this site. If you didn’t read Dream Assignment, all you need to know is that Jack, the owner of a rather up market bondage club, initiated journalist Josie into its pleasures as she researched an article on the club for her new magazine. The article has just been published, and everyone is reading it… ...

(story continues from Dream Assignment 2 - Second Helpings)_ _Jack, the owner and expert practitioner at an upmarket BDSM club, is falling for Josie, a journalist and bondage novice who has now been twice made helpless at his hands… story continues from Part 1 - Dream Assignment Part Three - Three Times Free Jack lifted the exhausted, sweat-drenched figure of Josie into his arms and carried her unprotestingly upstairs to one of the bedrooms that his BDSM club made available for the couples that frequented the establishment together. ...

[ This is my first attempt at a story…please e-mail with feedback, positive and negative, if you see the need. Thanks and happy reading. Dark Dreamer ] Quiet, opaque darkness surrounded the room, if not the whole house. The young woman in the ornate four-poster bed resting against the center of the rear wall in said room slept rather peacefully, perhaps indulging in some sweet dream splintered off from some fantasy. She stirred about under the thick quilts and satin sheets that she had come to adore ever since she’d bought them at the shopping mall months back. They fit her so well… at least as far as anyone else would know. Soft, gentle, and somewhat pure. Certainly that’s what others thought of her, strangers and friends alike. She just had that…aura. ...

Authors note: This is the first serious bit of fiction writing I have ever done, and as such I am desperately hungry for feedback. You can contact me at [email protected]. Please, tell me what you think. The characters, especially John, have been inspired by personal events, but as I am not so lucky as him please let me know about problems with the authenticity of the bondage, or just tell me your ideas about where I should take the story next. ...

Dream Weaver: A Week in Plastic What would you do with nigh-unlimited magical power? Conquer the world maybe? Or perhaps live out your deepest, darkest fantasies? Maybe you would become a real-life superhero, helping the people of the world. Or maybe you’d do nothing, just try to ignore the fact that reality is in the palm of your hand and go on leading a normal life. I’ve been around long enough to have tried all of these options but the first; even with unlimited power, running the world seems like far too much work and I’d probably screw it up more than it already is, so I’m content to run a few small things from the shadows on that front. ...

(story continues from Dream Weaver: A Week in Plastic) Dream Weaver: Origins and Dreams Oh. So you want to know how my shop got its name eh? Yes, that will do nicely for a story. Though at that time I wasn’t really recording anything, so this will just be what I happen to be able to remember. It was maybe… about twenty years ago? Maybe a little more, time doesn’t really hold that much meaning for me beyond day to day appointments. Anyway, I was just getting bored of my “live like a normal person” phase, and was looking for an outlet for my magic. Somehow, though I can’t remember the details of it, I got it in my head that it would be fun to pretend to be a genie and grant someone’s wish. So I enchanted one of those classic genie-oil-lamps to alert me if someone rubbed it. Then I tossed it aside in a park in the middle of the night and left. I remember it took a few days for someone to finally try it, but it did eventually happen, and I did pop out of the lamp wearing a stereotypical Arabian outfit. Now, I’d expected there to be a handful of people around, maybe with a few poking fun at the person who rubbed the lamp, so I made a grand sweeping bow saying “How may I serve you master?” before I took a look at my surroundings. An ear-piercing shriek brought me to my senses, and caused me to take stock of where I was; standing in a bathroom with a young woman soaking in a tub, at that moment trying to gather soap around herself in an attempt to conceal her body. I made a quick judgement call, and decided it would be more fun not to break character. “Well Mistress, if you didn’t like the idea of me seeing you naked perhaps you shouldn’t have summoned me while washing yourself.” I said, keeping the somewhat haughty tone I’d used when entering. “I didn’t actually expect that to work! Genies aren’t real! Nothing is supposed to happen when you rub a lamp!” She retorted while still trying to cover herself. “I’ll admit my kind are rare, but there ARE stories about us. Never discount stories as totally false, they have to come from somewhere right?” Just as a side note, genies ARE real, they just like to keep to themselves. That Aladdin movie had it all wrong; their lamps are a paradise for them. They’re basically gods of their own realms in there so why would they want to come out? “I’m still allowed to be surprised that you popped out, you just said yourself that you’re rare!” “OK I’ll give you that. Now, as long as I’m here I believe I owe you three wishes?” “Would it count as a wish for me to ask you to turn around so I can get out of here and at least wrap a towel around myself?” “I suppose that one can be on me.” “Thank you.” At this point I turned and she got out of the tub and began to dry herself off. “So do you have a name?” “Call me Quill, Mistress.” Now, it was fortunate for me that she didn’t ask me to leave to room. Why you might ask? Because she forgot that there was a mirror behind me. When she got out of the bath I got a rather good look at her body, before she wrapped it in a towel. She was maybe five-and-a-half feet tall, and couldn’t have weighed more than one-twenty, with a fair amount of that weight distributed on her chest. She had strawberry blonde hair in soft curls down just beyond her shoulders, a fair complexion, and amazingly clear skin. If that rogue mage from my last story had captured this girl, she would never spend longer than a few minutes on display before someone rented her again. “And you call me Laura, being called Mistress feels weird.” “Very well Laura. So now that you’ve dried off, do you have any wishes?” “Well…” She turned so red at this point that I figured she’d have boiled her bath if she was still in it. “I do have one wish. You might think it’s silly though.” “If it is for something frivolous then do not worry yourself. I know you mere mortals have strange tastes, and it is not my job to judge them, just to indulge them.” “Well… I need to figure out how to phrase this. I don’t want my wish to backfire on me.” “Then perhaps I can help you figure that part out. I know some stories of my brethren have us deliberately misinterpreting wishes for our own sadistic amusement, and I wish to assure you I am not that kind of genie.” “How do I know I can trust you?” “You don’t. But just don’t say ‘I wish’ before you talk it out to me and I cannot act on it.” “I guess that part is true. OK, I’ll just think out loud then. You let me say what all I’m thinking, then I’ll ask for your opinion. Got it Quill?” “Ok Laura, do as you wish.” “By the time I have used all three of my wishes, this is what I want to have happened: I want to be a toy. Not a woman, not even really me, at least not the way I am now. I want someone to own my body, and I want my body to do whatever that person says, up to and including having it change shape on their command. I want to always remain a woman though, and always humanoid. Things like my hair colour, ethnicity, breast size and the like would be totally up to my owner though. Even what my body is made of could be changed on command; if my owner wants me to be a statue, great! A lovedoll? No sweat! As for my mind, I want to be disconnected from myself, in kind of a waking dream state. I would see my owner as my boyfriend/husband, and I would be in the perfect relationship. So, is this all possible?” I was… stunned to say the least. She’d obviously been harbouring this fantasy for quite some time and I did want to help her with it, but it involved mind-magic. Now, I don’t think I’ve fully explained my position on messing with other peoples heads so let me do it here: it’s evil. Oh, it can be used for some good purposes, but overall it’s powerful, dangerous magic that has a good chance to corrupt the user and target alike. IF the target is willing then there’s no chance of them being corrupted, but there is still a good chance for the caster. Corruption, in magic terms, is a persons personal magic supply becoming tainted with impure emotions. What impure emotions are are up for debate, but hate, disdain for life, and the need to rob others of their free will, are pretty safe bets. What corruption means for a mage is that they’re slowly going to be taken over by their magic; losing themselves to the pursuit of whatever tainted them to begin with. So someone who became corrupted by enslaving people is going to go out and try more and more crazy things to enslave more and more people. For a non-mage corruption tends to lead to insanity. So it’s something to be avoided. There is however one single, convoluted, difficult, and time-consuming method to get around all of that though: a technique known as Dream Weaving. It can only be performed on a willing subject, so that eliminates the chances of the target being corrupted. Additionally it can only be used to make changes the target desires, and I’m not talking waking desires, I mean the desires of the heart. If someone wants something badly enough it becomes a part of them, and Dream Weaving is all about the mage making those desires manifest, by giving the subconscious enough power to make it happen. So because the mage isn’t actually doing all that much, besides providing power, and maybe a gently nudging the targets dreams in the right direction, there’s no chance of corruption. This is the technique I used with Laura, after explaining how it was possible of course. “So that’s what I would need to do in order to complete your wish.” “You can’t just snap your fingers and make it happen?” “Unfortunately no. What you are asking for would take more power than I have available to me at any given moment, but over the course of time I can make it happen. You need only say ‘I wish for you to fulfil my innermost desire’ and I will begin carrying out my task each time you sleep.” “Well then… Quill, I wish for you to fulfil my innermost desire.” “I shall begin tonight then. Sweet dreams Laura.” ...

Rhea crawled into her bed after a long night of dancing at Club Yulo. It really wasn’t her scene, but it was her friend’s birthday and that friend had insisted. Rhea hadn’t dressed all that provocatively, but she had received an abundance of male attention all the same. Her D-cup breasts were a lure no matter what she wore, as was her silky-smooth and perfectly-tanned skin. Even when she dressed conservatively, she liked to show off her athletic physique – her toned arms and legs, and the stomach that didn’t make her look scrawny but didn’t have an ounce of excess weight on it. Her close male friends told her that she had a soft and inviting look that was incredibly appealing. ...

Sandra was, to say the least, an unhappy woman as she hurried around her spacious apartment. She had spent considerable time over the last few hours getting ready for an intimate night with her boyfriend Paul after the two attended a concert put on by a local band when he dashed off on a business emergency. Sandra was left stewing with lots of energy and no way to release it. " Damn that man for taking off and leaving me like that ! If he wasn’t the best lover I’ve ever had and fairly well off, I’d dump him in a heartbeat ! " the raven haired beauty said in a pouting voice as she flopped down on a nearby couch and pondered what to do next. " MEOWW !!! " Sandra’s cat Cleopatra howled as it jumped up next to her and started rubbing up against her leg while purring loudly. Smiling, Sandra picked up her pet and looked down at it affectionately while caressing its’ soft white and brown fur. " Well, Cleo, what do two women on a night when all the men in their lives leaves them to twiddle their thumbs… or paws in your case, hmmm ? " the black haired beauty said to her cat as she sat in quiet contemplation. Suddenly, Sandra jumped up as she remembered she had yet to go through her mail including a package from her ex husband Bruce. The divorce had been finalized a few months ago with great acrimony on both sides as she and Bruce traded insults back and forth. She had accused him of being unfaithful with at least two of the secretaries at his place of work while Bruce had accused her of withholding sexual favors unless he paid for them. After the lawyers had sorted it all out, her former husband left town in a hurry after cleaning out the apartment of his things. To Sandra’s consternation, Bruce had taken some of her personal stuff with him and she had to get her lawyer to send a letter demanding he send her items back. Opening up the box in question, Sandra saw with satisfaction that it contained the items Bob had taken as well as a sealed envelope sitting on top. An amused look crossed the dark haired woman’s face as she opened the envelope and read the note enclosed. The note basically was Bob apologizing for all the spite and hate and a desire that they could be friends sometime in the future. " Friends ?…..Ha ! Ha !…." thought Sandra as she looked over the photos and other keepsakes that were wedged tight in the box. When she got to the bottom, she discovered the items she used to wear when she and Bob used to do some role-playing that involved the BDSM mentality. Sandra looked over the skin tight black catsuit that was covered with bright silver studs and ran her hands down the tapered legs that Bob loved to kiss and caress when on his hands and knees. She then plucked out the knee high leather boots and ran her hands down the small zippers she used to step in and out of them with. After setting aside the clothing, Sandra dug into the bottom of the box and pulled out several lengths of chain as well as a black collar that had numerous chain links dangling from it. Running her hands over chains brought back fond memories of Sandra’s days as a part-time domme when she used the chains to bind her clients or herself ( depending on her mood ). Bob had even put a bottle of scented oil in that she used to keep the chains from rusting and for a pleasant odor when they were worn. Sandra set the chains down next to the leather outfit and headed off to the bedroom to change into her evening look. After pulling her black fishnet hose and leather bra ( which accentuated her tits quite nicely), Sandra wandered back into the living room and looked at the box sitting on a nearby table. She sat down in a nearby chair and petted her cat, which was rubbing up against its’ leg, while staring absentmindedly at the leather clothing and chains she dumped next to the box. A few minutes later, a wry grin crossed the raven haired woman’s face before she abruptly stood up and walked over to the objects of her attention. She picked up the chains, collar and boots and walked with them over to the couch running her tongue over her lips in obvious anticipation. " Maybe I can get Paul interested in this kind of roleplay… it certainly would spice things up…" Sandra thought to herself before starting to don some of the outfit. She pulled the thigh high boots on first before donning the chains that went around her waist and right wrist. Normally, she would have put on her catsuit first and then the chains but she was feeling a bit naughty that night. Sandra sprawled on the couch and smoothy buckled the collar around her neck caressing the small links that went all around it. " Paul would look great wearing something like this… especially if I had a leash attached to it… I won… uhhh…." she thought to herself before her thinking suddenly got thrown astray by what felt like an electrical charge surge through her body. " What the heck is going on ? What’s happening to me ?" Sandra shouted as she felt her legs spreading wide open on their own forming an obscene V shape. No matter how hard she tried, whether by thought or grabbing hold of the rigid limbs, her legs remained spread apart. At the same time, Sandra felt an incredible feeling of warmth that washed over her like a warm bubble bath that caressed every inch of her semi nude body. In fact, the warmth was so pleasant that she almost forgot the difficulty with her legs as she brushed her face with her left hand. " Uhhh… feel good… but my legs…. ooohhh… " Sandra moaned softly as she felt her pussy starting to tingle rather intensely as if she was using one of her favorite sex toys to pleasure herself or Paul was using his tongue to stimulate her there repeatedly. If the problems with her legs didn’t exist, she would have been rubbing them together in pleasure as the stimulation washed over like a tide coming ashore again and again. As Sandra laid there trying to sort out her mixed feelings, she saw her arms moving on their own much like her legs had just done. Both her arms bent sharply at the elbow with her hands coming to rest on top of her black leather bra. She then saw her hands starting rubbing up and down on her breasts vigorously causing her bra to slip down revealing her breasts and nipples, which were becoming inflamed by the stimulation. Sandra’s eyes fluttered as the pleasure from her tits being fondled on top of the stimulation she was already feeling caused her to almost explode in one of the most intense orgasms she had ever experienced. However, it was at that point that Sandra started to realize the truth behind her lack of control over her body as she saw her skin changing from its normal flesh tone to a glossy pink color. She felt a sense of lightness rapidly spreading through her body as if her insides were being replaced by nothing more than air or some sort of gas. Sandra tried to yell or move when she saw this shocking development but found she could do neither . " What… what’s happening..?… oooh… why do… I feel.. feel…" Sandra thought to herself though even her ability to concentrate was becoming fuzzy and difficult to do. She saw and felt her pussy change into an artificial material with an ovular look to it. Seams were becoming visible running up and down her legs, arms and torso as if her body was made of sheets of latex and rubber that were sewn together. The transformation then swept through her torso changing her swollen breasts into taut mounds of plastic capped by bright pink circles and dime shaped nipples. As Sandra’s thinking became more and more clouded, it started to be replaced by more primitive emotions. " A love doll… I am a good doll… need someone to use me… fuck me…" she thought as her head lolled to the side with her mouth forming an O shape much like her pussy and anus. Her cheeks had turned bright pink in color that matched the color atop her tits with her eyes stared ahead in a frozen look of lust. The doll laid there in silence waiting.. begging to be used…. Next morning….. The sun shone steadily through the living room window and illuminated a figure that was lying prone on the couch. After an undetermined amount of time, the figure started to stir and abruptly sat up. Sandra put her left hand to her head as she looked around her place. " Man, that was some weird dream…. I imagined I had been turned into some sort of fucktoy by some means. It felt so real though…." the dark haired beauty muttered as she ran her hands over body to make sure it was just a dream. Satisfied that she was still human, Sandra headed off to the shower and prepare for another day…. Elsewhere at the same time… The man sat down and glanced at a piece of paper that he had just retrieved from his files. " Sandra thought she was going to get the best of me when we split up. Well, very shortly, I’ll get a victory that will make me the winner from now on. Thanks to the chains I sent back to her that I secretly coated with a special formula, she’ll be changed into an inanimate love doll permanently the day she puts them on in the company of someone else. She’ll still change if she dons them when alone but it’ll be a temporary transformation then. Once I pick up a call over my police scanner of trouble at her place, I’ll know just what to do…." Bruce said before throwing his head back in a laugh that seemed to last for a very long time… The future…… The trench coated man finished securing handcuffs on a distraught man and led him away through the open doorway of Sabrina’s home. Another man stood in the center of the room jotting notes down while surveying the surroundings which included a semi-nude love doll. " Imagine the nerve of this guy. He claims he was involved intimately with this woman named Sabrina when she ’ magically’ turned into a latex sex doll right before his eyes. The guy probably killed her over some spat, dumped her body and his mind snapped when he realized what he did. Well, he’ll probably spend the rest of his life in a prison rubber room…" the detective said as he jotted down some notes. " Detective Jackson, I’m Bruce.. Sandra’s ex… I called earlier.." a man called out from the open doorway. The detective nodded " Ah, Mr, Terrell. You called wanting to retrieve a few things from your ex’s home that belonged to you." he said shaking the hand of Bruce. " Yep..a few personal items.. including…." Bruce said nodding towards the doll on the couch with his face slightly reddening. " No problem, Mr. Terrell, no problem at all.." the detective said smoothly… Sandra, lying as a perfect love doll, didn’t think it was a problem either….. THE END ...

The butterflies in my stomach fluttered restlessly in a fit of nervous anticipation as I finished my lunchtime coffee. Outside the grass needed cutting, but it went ignored in favour of more exciting pastimes. I had at last decided on my ensemble for an afternoon of illicit enjoyment, something of a contrast to the scruffy jeans and sweatshirt I was lounging around in at the time. The coffee mug was hastily pushed aside, and the garden ignored, as I headed for the stairs. ...

Deborah checked the work order. It called for various unimaginative standard features to be added to the basic unit. Package 7A. Accessories 3-5. Options 7 and 12. Boring boring boring. What she wouldn’t give to throw in accessory 12 with an option 9. Deborah slid the 7A between her legs and into herself. It automatically inflated to lock into place, she checked it for slippage. There was none. She ran her fingers around the edge. It ran smoothly from thigh to thigh. The seam was barely perceptible. But the customer had specified option 7, which was seamless (like a doll). She sat spread legged on the open framed preparation chair. Carefully she adjusted and tightened the velcro straps from calve to midsection. She reached for the modified paint sprayer. It had been modified to handle a thick latex spray. ...

It had been a long day of boring work, he was glad to get home, so the weekend could begin. The light was blinking on the answer machine, 1 missed call. He clicked the button; he knew it would be a call from her. “Hello slave, the package has arrived! Come here now!” He had arrived home later than usual that night; he would normally have been home to receive his Mistress’ command in person. He would be paying the penalty for this later, he felt sure of this. ...

Amy knew. The instant she saw Drew’s car in the driveway she knew. In a few minutes she’d be on display, nearly naked for her ex-boyfriend. Drew wasn’t her official boyfriend. Her real boyfriend went to military school and she only saw him on holidays. Drew was a classmate and neighbor. They were in the same grade, belonged to the same clubs, were a couple, of sorts, at games and dances. They were friends mostly, almost like cousins, although, truth be told, kissing cousins. She had let him get to second base and he seemed happy there. A bit of kissing, a bit of fondling under her sweater seemed to satisfy him. ...