Chapter 3: First Week Sunday was uneventful. Clair still couldn’t get up the nerve to go down to the basement and visit with her Mom, so she worked on a school project, talked with friends, rearranged her closet. Bob slept late, then spent most of the day in his woodworking shop refinishing an antique from his Mother-in-Law’s farm. Clair offered to cook some pork chops for dinner and Bob, as was their deal, did the dishes. Bob did show Clair how he prepared Jill’s dinner and suggested that she do it herself for practice on Monday. But Clair still wasn’t interested in taking the meager cup of dinner down to her Mom. ...

Once, there had been a car accident. It wasn’t bad enough to make the papers, but it did change Jill’s life forever. Jill worked for a firm on Wall Street, and had gotten a bonus at the end of the year. Instead of spending her check on a trip, she had instead decided to pay off her car that she had bought the year before. She had taken the day off, and had paid the balance on her loan. To celebrate, she was going to a restaurant to meet with friends for lunch. ...

Cindy had sort of run away from home, she was twenty-three years old and felt just because she looked much younger didn’t give her daddy the right to treat her like a little girl. She had only been in the city once before having lived in the small farming community all her life so when she decided to leave her parents home after another fight about her coming home late there wasn’t much of a plan. She had started falling asleep an hour ago pulling over at the first hotel she spotted and even with her extremely limited experience she didn’t think this looked like a good place. “It’s only for one night” she muttered to herself as she parked her shiny little car, having always kept it spotless and running perfectly. ...

We were sitting together in the hotel bar together on Secretaries Day. What a waste of corporate time and money! I had to buy my secretary flowers, be nice to her all week, and then take her out to lunch! True, I could do this on my corporate expense account so the taxpayers were paying for it. But still, here we were, having drinks, instead of working. And time is money, after all. ...

Part 2. The Maid and The Unicorn Catching her breath for the past ten minutes after the attendant left, Emma still found herself bound and locked to the baggage trolley. It had been a long walk from the registration area on to the ship and finally to her room. While tired and feeling a little drained, there was not much she could do but stand there like an object. This trip has already been eventful and the cruise hasn’t officially started. She was still frustrated and horny. She could tell the tops of her stockings were thoroughly soaked as wetness was permeating down the insides of her stockings. She had no idea how she would make it through this trip without many orgasms and she wasn’t planning to remove the belt. As it was, she couldn’t stop thinking about Nix and what happened. More importantly was what she hoped would happen. She was so close to orgasm with Nix binding her but it turned out to be a cruel tease, which excited Emma even more. A knock on Emma’s room door snapped her drifting mind back to reality. ...

Compulsion* _This was going to be more fun than anything I’d tried before now. It would lend a whole new meaning to the term “Dumpster Diving”, at least for me. If I were objective, looking at myself from the viewpoint of a dispassionate, disinterested observer, then I’d have to conclude I was certifiably insane to carry through on my plan. Maybe I was crazy, but it wasn’t going to stop me._Why did I do it?* What was it in my head that drove me to become human garbage, to be tossed aside as unwanted trash? Most of the time I felt normal, but every so often that compulsion came upon me. Maybe it was the feel of the smooth, clingy plastic against my hand when opening a fresh kitchen trash bag. Or maybe it was some kind of guilt complex. Whatever the reason, I had to wrap myself up in a neat package inside one of those bags, preferably surrounded by other bags of equally unwanted refuse. ...

Chapter 2: The Basement Bob had a tote in the basement with the equipment from the last two times they had used the “program,” which included four lengths of carefully measured ½ inch high strength steel chain and six high security padlocks. Bob would wrap one short chain tightly around Jill’s waist and padlock it. Their unfinished basement did have a few unpainted sheetrock walls, one divided the basement roughly in half between the “daylight” part that had windows onto the back yard and the front part that was mostly underground with poured cement foundation walls. The daylight part was mostly used for storage plus Bob had a simple workbench and some tools. The front of the basement had no windows and only one insulated door to enter the space. Along the front of the area was an 8 X 8 alcove that was under the main front door stoop. This alcove had a cement roof that supported the tiles in the entryway. This room was intended to be a basement half bathroom and had a simple sink and toilet. Clair had always been told the toilet was there for when they finally finished the basement into a rec-room and had not thought much about it until now. “So THAT’s what that toilet is for” Clair exclaimed when she finally figured it out. ...

…First off let me say that I never thought I’d ever be here myself, not that I don’t get along with other women just fine, but most of my everyday friends and coworkers are guys; it’s the nature of my business, it’s also the nature of my flirty personality. There are reasons for this; perhaps it’s that other women have this habit of stabbing me in the back, or maybe it’s that I look and act a certain way, and that doesn’t exactly endear me to the girlfriends and wives who think my friendly manner with their significant others is an implied offer for something more. Then of course there is what amounts to a theoretical open hall pass for that “something more” from my loving and understanding husband, so some measure of open availability - without perceived consequences on my end - perhaps is sensed by those ladies around me, as well as their attached and just as friendly guys. I’m there for the proverbial taking, but not by just anybody. ...

When I arrived at Lavender Rose Bar down in the Chelsea section of Manhattan, it was already packed solid. After work, I’d eaten dinner, showered, and rested before hitting the bar scene. The Lavender Rose is a small Lesbian Bar that had outgrown its small space. Fridays the place was packed, with all sorts of women. Everything from femmes to butch dykes in black leather. One regular patron was there, with her girlfriend on a leash. ...

Part 1. Arrival and Registration Emma’s Uber pulled up to her destination. She looked out the window at the bright blue sunny sky with a large cruise ship sitting about the length of a football field away. She had been waiting for months for this trip. Her body shivered in excitement and was instantly hornier than before; which was pretty horny, seeing as she had denied herself any release for the last month. She was here just as registration opened and boarding was allowed so there weren’t many people yet. She smiled to herself as she looked at the people heading towards the boat. ...

The class had ended an hour before, and I’d made a complete fool of myself. First off, I’d come into my psychology class a half hour late, looking like something out of a thrift shop. Then, I’d sounded like a shrill windbag arguing with my instructor on her theme of “Dominance in Everyday Life.” So the instructor called me into her office for a discussion. “Well Helen,” she began, “I don’t know why you caused me so much trouble today,” said Dr. Terrel. The woman was still attractive and slim well into her forties. ...

Chapter 1: Jill’s Chain Jill was sitting on a slightly rusty, army surplus metal folding bed. A ½ inch chain was wrapped rather tightly around her waist and padlocked there. One end of a longer chain was locked around a steel pole with a high security padlock; the other end was locked to Jill’s belly chain. They were, of course, all products of Chain Manufacturing, Inc. Jill’s husband Bob was scurrying around the basement room busy with all kinds of tasks. Jill was deep in thought. She knew what Bob was doing was exactly what she had asked him to do, but she also knew, with great certainty, that in four or five days she would regret her consent. ...

Chain is a series of stories, all set in the fictional town of Chain Alabama, population about 20,000. Chain was named because it grew around a chain manufacturing factory, founded in 1855 and called simply “Chain Incorporated.” The motto of both the town and the company was “Binding Us Together in Iron” which, as we shall see in these stories, may have contributed to the nature of the town and its inhabitants. ...

Chapter 9 Me and Emily sat in silence. It had been two hours since we got home after the eventful day at Tanya’s store, my body was sore and my bottom-half was still buzzing from the earlier events. My sister played with her fingers, her mind absent from the real world and was full with multiple questions with a few answers she was already coming up with. Her anxiety was on high-alert and I couldn’t lie that my body was going through the same. ...

1 – The Beginning I was seated behind my desk, crossing off items on my to-do list, figuring out what projects I was going to take on tomorrow when the phone rang. Glancing at the clock on my desk, I realized that it was close to quitting time; and I just hoped that it wasn’t the boss dumping a project on me before leaving. “Bonnie?” asked the caller. “Yes, Brenda,” I answered. It was Bonnie, my identical twin sister. ...

Being Chief of Security for a Heavy Freighter StarShip like the Orion is actually a rather cushy job. Becoming Chief Sec is a bitch. It took many years walking the corridors of starships as a United Space Command StarShip Police officer, and way too many years breaking up fights in spaceport bars all over the galaxy. But those years are behind me now. Now I am the one who leans against the wall and nods to one of my subordinate officers or points to them and then to the troublemaker. I very seldom have to actually get into the messy parts of the job. ...

“Well, good afternoon Mrs. Blades, how have you been?” office manager Marjorie Hastings sheepishly asked . “Not too fucking good, I need to speak with my husband, NOW!” responded Dr. Harold Blades’ wife in an angry voice. “At the moment he’s on a conference call and will probably be a while. It would probably be a good idea for you to come back in about an hour.” Rita Blades glanced down at the phone on the office manager’s deck noticing no outside phone lines were lit. Rita Blades quickly locked the office door and pulled a small caliber gun. ...

Part 2 It had been a few days since I, Robin, was used by Felicia Knight, my friend and boss, to demonstrate a bondage stand that the company I work for makes. I was getting more and more excited as the day ticked by until one of the bondage-stands I demonstrated would be delivered to my house. Just before lunch I got a text from Felicia asking me to meet her in her office. I saved my work and went right up. Her office was basically the same since the last time I was there but there was a new bondage rack in the place of the last one I tested. Before I had a chance to look it over, she hung up the phone and walked around the desk. Once she got to me, she grabbed me and gave me a really passionate kiss. ...

Chloe, Sara, and six of the other girls all picked me up and carried me downstairs. I struggled against them and tried to get the duct tape off of my mouth. I would tell them how sorry I was and just be done with it. I was just pissed off, and I shouldn’t have said what I said. Even though I was clearly still the best person to be team captain and I hadn’t been that mean to any of them, it wasn’t worth whatever they were about to do to me. ...

…If I had said this once, I’d said it a thousand times, and as such I was losing my patience with him. It wasn’t his fault, none of this was, but it wasn’t mine either. His voice had even taken on a whiny high-pitched tone as of late, although when he had caught himself doing so he artificially lowered his voice; like a little boy trying to sound like a man, so as to be taken more seriously. ...