Stories

You stand at the door. It is heavy, oaken, crossed with iron straps. Pierced solely by a tiny grille at eye level, displaying the merest hint of a glow from within. Buried in the cold stone basement of the old manor, its appearance alone fills you with trepidation, to say nothing of the step you intend to take when the door opens. The air is clammy, moist. You shiver in your thin shirt and bare feet. You gather your resolve and raise a hand to strike the iron knocker in the center of the door. Just as your hand is about to grip the metal ring, you hear – ...

So many old stories start with ‘I never imagined this would happen to me’ that the line had become a joke well before I was born. But, I never thought this could happen to me. I mean, okay, I do a few things to remain anonymous, and I avoid topics in my kink writing that might warrant the attention of the police or other authorities. I guess I thought I was low key enough that nobody would care to put the effort into finding, or outing, me. And the last person I expected it from was fellow writing critique group member Paige Maddux. ...

Continues from part three Part Four “You’re wearing me out woman,” I said hanging off the overstuffed sofa in the common area of the patio by the pool. I knew my speech was a bit slurred, but I could understand it. I even understood Savannah when she muttered her reply, although she was really drunk. “Well then, my masher wif da’ beyooteeful penish, you’ll jush have to tie me up soooo tight tha’ I can’t jump your bones again, gag me sho I can’t suck tha’ cum outta’ your balls and spank my big ol’ round butt ‘til it’sh too sore to back inta’ ya’ wiff speshific intent, and then I’ll be workin’, I’ll beya workin’ them ropes to reach ‘round to gives youzha hand-job.” ...

I stopped in my wandering through the mall as I saw the marquee above. It was something I had been hoping would come to our city so I wouldn’t have to pay the costs of traveling to the next nearest one more than fifty miles away. I walked in and was greeted immediately by a saleswoman. She asked what I was looking for, so I told her I wanted a Remote Piloted Surrogate-Bot. She walked me over to the display wall showing me all the possible features, and the various options for the type of Control Rig I would use to pilot the Surrogate-Bot. From the most basic utilitarian models to the deluxe auto cleaning ones with the cushioning designed to cradle and support the human body for maximum comfort. ...

A decline in the economy forced the husband of our back-fence neighbor Cliff to close the office he had been renting and work at home. Since his business is internet retail sales it was very easy for him, except he laid off the secretary he had been working with for several years. His wife, Regina, who is a trim carpenter, called me over to ask a question. We spoke about it over the fence. She enlightened me with the fact that her husband, Cliff, was working out of their home with his computer, which she “borrowed” since it was a newer unit than the old Windows 7 machine Cliff lets her use. The “spare bedroom had become his office. ...

Priscilla was playing on her phone at work. Again? How many times would he have to fucking remind this spoiled… Mark had to calm down. Mark was the owner of a local animal shelter, and Priscilla was his only employee at the moment. Mark never kept a big staff, especially now as the shelter had recently been renovated with state-of-the-art technology; the place practically ran itself now. Though he did try to keep a few employees around for extra help from time to time though, as someone would have to physically interact with the dogs to keep them socialized. This was a dream gig! Mark would pay people a fair wage to essentially play with dogs throughout the day, and the system would handle the rest! Yet here was Priscilla, his recent, spoiled brat of a hire. She had worked at the kennel for 6 months now, and Mark had to practically beg her to do her incredibly easy job. Priscilla would come in late, leave early without permission, and when she was at work it would take a miracle for her to pull herself away from her phone long enough to actually do her job. ...

Chapter 1 - The first dollars I just broke up with my boyfriend. I loved him very much, but there was no other choice. He took it badly and said that I should have told him earlier about my problem; he was a hundred percent right. I shouldn’t have started dating him three months ago, but I did. I lied to get close to him because I needed affection, support. I shouldn’t have allowed love to enter my heart in my current situation, but I was weak, and I needed someone to sleep and cuddle with before it was all over. I used him, and I was very sorry about it. I would carry this mistake with me for as long as I lived. I hurt him, like I did to all the others. ...

Continues from chapter one While Spot was healing at the Vet’s office, plans were evolving. Master & Princess hadn’t been as secretive about their project as they probably should have. Word had gotten around in certain circles. Some of those who were most interested, were really not the type of people that you want to spend a lot of time around. Miss Laura was one of those types. She ran a… well… let’s just call it a business. She took willing, and sometimes not so willing females and using her skilled in house technicians, altered them to form the perfect submissive or slave for anybody that had the money. Most were pretty mild ‘conversions’ but lately she had been leaning to the more extreme and now she REALLY wanted to break into the pet girl market. ...

I had always been fascinated by Maids, MaidBots, SexBots, and Robotization, even though I didn’t understand some of the terms, from even when I was a little girl growing up in a middle middle class family. Like many in that class our family owned a MaidBot, though I didn’t understand at first that she was a Bot and not a real person, and I couldn’t stop watching her as she worked. ...

Leather and Submission By: lizsubintampa True, bondage, submission, leather, bi, consensual Email: [email protected] It’s hard for me to believe that it’s been more than two years since I last wrote. Yes, I’ve been busy and yes I have started several stories - that for different reasons I never finished and deleted - but I really don’t have any good excuses not to have submitted anything for so long. So I am going to try to make up for that now by trying to recall as many things as I can and, while I will very likely be skipping around - that is, not writing things in the order they happened - I will, as I’ve done in the past, try to tell you what happened as best as I can and, with the exception of a name or two, assure you that these events are true and as complete as I recall. ...

She promised to stop by randomly to make sure that everything was copasetic usually after he was tucked in for the night. She cherished these moments and relished wearing the provocative clothing that made him lust for her without the slightest opportunity to have her while he was occupied in his fantasy. Tonight she had selected a new shiny black vinyl raincoat as she removed his pacifier and stood provocatively with hands akimbo on her hips for their twice monthly chat. ...

Denise stretched her arms high in the air as she finished dressing for the day ahead. Glancing at her reflection in a nearby mirror, the dark haired woman with blonde streaks in her locks smiled at what she saw. Wearing a red blouse that emphasized her bosoms, white shorts and black high heels, Denise figured she could draw the attention of any man who glanced her way even briefly. Alas, things were not looking that way as it was a fairly humdrum late summer morning for her and there was nothing much in her plans. ...

Continues from part one Part Two Here I am suspended in a harness, I can’t see anything, I don’t hear anything and can’t talk. I have a wide hard gag in my mouth stretching it painfully. My arms tied behind my back and my legs spread wide. How did I get in that position? What a fool, I was. After my last visit, I went back to my routine, it all seemed dull after the excitement, my mind was obsessed and filled with sexual fantasies. Then everything crashed. My wife saw on my computer the sites I was visiting, I forgot to erase my history. We had a big fight, she felt betrayed.She said, she didn’t recognize the young man she married. Finally she told me to get out. What could I say? This marriage was not satisfying for both of us. I decided to move out to a small apartment, on a month to month lease, to give me time to think things over. In fact, it was a liberation, now I could spend the time surfing as I wished, the problem was that I was hooked; spending more and more time going from site to site, from stories to stories, I stopped going to the gym and ate a lot of junk food. It even affected my work performance, I was always tired, I didn’t get the promotion I was hoping for. So life sort of continued without any improvement, I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. ...

The Fuckbox. [email protected] I must admit that part of me has always been fascinated with the sight of women packaged or boxed, especially if parts of them are exposed. I think it is something about taking away the identity of the person and the focus is solely on their sex. So I decided I would crate up my girlfriend and make my own fuckbox. To save time and to get a better quality finish, I ordered from a local crate supplier a wooden box, 3 foot long, and 2 foot square. In addition I specified a smooth finish inside and out, one of the ends to be removable, the lid hinged and split in two, with one lid section 1 foot long with small holes, and the other lid section covering the remainder on the side of the removable end. I told the manufacturer that it was to store and carry sensitive equipment and that I wanted a series of ½ in square wooden rods in pairs on the inside ½ inch apart, these were to be able to slot in timber pieces shaped to fit my equipment to prevent movement. ...

I wake up in bed next to you. I am in a spandex hood with a mouth opening. I am working to recall the predicament that you left me in before turning in last night. My hands are in leather bondage mitts. When I move them I can feel they are padlocked on. I lift my covered hands to my face and they are stopped by a tug on ‘your’ balls. I do my best to feel through the leather of the mitts and there is a leather ball stretcher locked onto ‘your’ balls and seemingly chained to the mitts. Attempting to feel around a bit more there is a plug in this slave’s ass and clearly it has stretched me to the point where I can no longer sense it being inside of me for I cannot feel it from the inside. Moving my legs I discern that my ankles are cuffed and a short piece of chain links them together. ...

Continues from part two Part Three When I quit kissing her, I released the ropes that had been holding her arms behind her back for quite a while. Savannah smiled and began stretching her shoulders. Using my phone, she called down and told Claire to fetch her several things and bring them up to this gazebo-like room which she called ‘The Perch’. By the time Claire showed up, the two of us were standing out on the deck overlooking the field of flowers in full bloom. I was massaging Savannah’s shoulders, and Savannah was hanging onto the railing because she was nearly a puddle from how good it felt to relieve the accumulated tightness that had developed. Savannah was almost giddy from being so happy. ...

Enid was a librarian who lived and worked in the inner western suburbs. Late one wet winter afternoon she was making her way home to the unit in which she lived alone. This lady was two years short of forty, never married, though there had been occasions where it had seemed likely. She had had affairs, some satisfying, but these had been less frequent of late. She was, she sadly reflected, drifting toward old maid spinsterhood. ...

Writer’s Block “Here’s my problem,” she started to explain to Jim Preston, her literary agent and business manager. “In the new book I have a chapter where the female protagonist manages to escape from the prison van. She hides out in a farmhouse, contacts her friends, finally goes on to clear her name, et cetera, et cetera. The catch: she has her ankles shackled together along with the handcuffs. How far can she go in half a day of walking? And how well does she make out in the farmhouse? Can she find some way to get the chains off? It can’t be that easy or the cops wouldn’t use them.” ...

Interview with LaraBot from the Cyborg and Upload Rights Archive Greetings Human, welcome to my Master and Mistresses home. Yes it seems like just yesterday but it was over two hundred years ago. Why would you want to hear my tale? I’m not special… Well yes I made the history books because of how I twisted the loopholes to fit my circumstances and desires. I and my fellow Gynoid were once human. It was all my fault, but it led to me becoming his Best Bot Forever. ...

Like most of her kind, Alana had the mix of brains, a valiant heart, and a powerful body. Platemail glistened in the strong contrast with her environs. The holy adytum was a dark and unnatural place. Echoes reflecting throughout the room like wings on a high place. A temple at the heart of a forest, with a face full of ill omens. Taller than the trees, yet no more proud than the endless horizon of boughs and branches that stretched in all directions. The green darkened the sun. Clouds made the world blue, green, and gray. Black stone creaked as Alana entered its forgotten halls. The temple was devoid of inhabitants, but it was still maintained. Out of time, with the top disappearing into the canopy that made the sun shy. ...