Stories

Part 12 “Well, this has been a very fun day, but… it appears that break time is over,” Jane said, smiling knowingly at Alex and opening the door to let her in. “Now, you and the AI are going to have a little chat. I’ll be along in a little while when you’re ready. I’m going to go… attend to Sam.” Alex felt herself blush at the thought of Jane interacting with Sam, who was still bound in her suit, strapped under the leather pad of the footstool in the great room, presumably to be left like that until morning. The image immediately reawakened Alex’s arousal and Jane grinned at her. Jane winked as she pulled her mask and drone hood on, the rubber gleaming in the low light as she left Alex to walk into the darkened room. ...

Part Five The past few weeks had been very busy, so my chances of spending time with Ollie were slim. We seemed to pass each other in the short time between finishing work and going to bed, to be up and ready for the next day’s busy schedule. Even my meatgirl fantasies took a back seat; I was missing being tied up and stored away, my naked body on display, just another product waiting to be sold. I think even Ollie was missing having me bound and available for him to use, so too, I guess, was Matt down in the store, as I had to turn down his offer to be tightly trussed up by his firm hands, though it was tempting to give myself to him. ...

Part 1 (One Year Earlier) Sitting ramrod straight in a surprisingly comfortable chair made of molded gray plastic, heart hammering in her chest and hands clenched tight in her lap as she tried to keep from fidgeting, some part of Claire Devroux could not believe she was actually doing what she was doing. Oh at a glance the waiting room seemed ordinary enough, like a thousand other doctor’s offices or accounting firms she had visited throughout the course of her life with rows of simple seats lining walls painted in soft, neutral colors meant to evoke calm while haphazard piles of well creased magazines sat heaped onto low tables of faux wood to ensure those left waiting had something to occupy their time with. Across from her was a wide front desk with a pretty young receptionist seated behind it typing away on a computer, while quiet music of a type she could not quite identify played in the background. All quite mundane really, and yet even if she hadn’t already known the truth, it was obvious upon even the most cursory inspection that this place was far from ordinary and had no interest in hiding that fact. Rather than the generic landscapes or stock photos that decorated most waiting room walls to break up the monotony, these walls were lined with pinups of various types, some nude and some not, but all of a subtly kinky nature and all featuring bondage to some degree. More than that the literature on offer were not the sorts of things found at a grocery store’s checkout but lifestyle magazines of a decidedly alternative and most certainly erotic type. Even the woman sitting behind the front desk had hints that she was far more than she seemed to be. From her dirty blonde hair tied up in a perfect bun, to the wire-frame glasses perched upon the end of her nose and to both the stark white blouse that fit her just a bit too tightly and the sinfully short skirt that drew they eye to long, stocking clad legs it was obvious she was on display just as much as the pictures on the wall. Almost as if she were less a secretary and more a model dressed to appeal to a very select clientele with a fetish for office ladies. No, even a fool could tell that the redhead was very much not in Kansas any longer. ...

Episode 1: Bondage University (Part 1) Isabel opened her eyes to find herself lying in the bed in her room at college. Surely it hadn’t all been a dream. That whole escape room thing, just a creation of her subconscious. Yet, here she was in the familiar room with her desk and her chair and the blue curtains in college colours and her posters on the wall of… Oh! Posters of women in bondage, drawings: a naked brunette in some sort of predicament, standing on her toes with clips on her nipples and wires and what looked like switches under her heels, a huge gag silencing her as she struggled to maintain her posture and avoid whatever punishment any lapse might deliver to her helpless body; another woman wearing nothing but heeled boots impaled on a phallus with spikes at the base to force her to keep her legs apart, her arms strapped behind her in what looked like tight metal restraints, a large ball gag held in her mouth by more metallic looking straps; there were women punishing other women, a brunette with an impossibly tiny waist in a rubber bra and knickers and boots you probably couldn’t walk in using a whip on a similarly scantily clad blonde in even more improbable footwear; there were stripes on the girls’ bottom where the whip had struck; a kneeling woman, again in boots, bound and tightly gagged at the feet of a sultry brunette wearing tiny knickers and a flowing robe with her fist in her slave’s hair. ...

The air in the tomb was dead. It hadn’t moved in a millennium, thick with the dust of forgotten kings and the silence of eternity. Kaelia, however, was vibrantly alive. Her platinum blonde hair, pulled into a tight ponytail, was a stark beacon in the beam of her headlamp. Her six-foot frame, honed by a life of adventure and excess, moved with a lithe confidence that bordered on arrogance. She was a treasure hunter, but not for history or knowledge. She hunted for Damon. ...

Chapter 1: Worlds Apart The discovery of Gaia-II was a tantalizing glimpse of paradise, a verdant jewel suspended in the unforgiving blackness twelve light-years from Earth. It was a dream strangled by cruel mathematics. A century of travel with conventional drives meant a journey longer than a full human lifespan. The new world was a beautiful, unreachable fantasy. Everyone knew it. Everyone, except Cassian Valerius. The ruthless, visionary founder of Valerius Stellar Dynamics saw not an insurmountable problem, but his singular opportunity to etch his name into history. And he knew exactly where to find his solution. His gaze fell upon SluTech, a company whose public face was that of a luxury sex toy manufacturer, but whose darkest secret was whispered only in the circles of the ultra-wealthy and the underworld: “Dollyfication.” ...

Part 3: The Logical Punishment The night after her unsatisfactory masturbatory orgasm, Lindsey slept soundly. Despite the low-intensity orgasm and the frustration that followed, her body had expended a great deal of energy, and the calm that flooded her was one of deep, restorative fatigue. When her alarm rang, she opened her eyes and felt a surge of energy. In her mind, the memory of her first orgasm with Morgana still vibrated with intensity, and she tried to forget the disappointing experience of the previous night. ...

Part 7: The misfortunes of an organic maidbot The metallic tang of the garage still lingered in Melissa’s nostrils as she emerged, muscles aching and spirit frayed. But there was no respite. The house computer’s voice, a relentless, disembodied presence, immediately issued new directives. “Unit 734-B, your next assignment is the comprehensive reorganisation of the linen closet. All towels are to be folded according to size and colour, and all bedsheets inventoried.” Melissa gritted her teeth, the collar a constant, heavy reminder of her subjugation. ...

“You’re not doing it anymore, and I refuse to be a part of it,” said Abby whilst giving her best friend Amy a stern look. “Please Abbs, you know how much it means to me, I can’t live without it!” “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a fetish Amy, you can go without it.” Amy dropped her head, she knew Abby was right, but the draw of the excitement was overwhelming, it was her drug, and she was addicted. ...

The silence of her apartment was a pressure, a bland weight that Anya had come to despise. It was a world of beige walls, sensible furniture, and the quiet hum of a life lived in conformity. By day, she was an efficient administrator, her white-blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun, her movements precise and unremarkable. But by night, in the cathedral of her mind, she was a symphony of squeaking latex and clicking steel. ...

Part 14 Chapter 63: More Orgasms Prospero took hold of one of the rings attached to her collar and led her towards the bed in the corner of the workshop. ‘I am without an apprentice at present,’ he said as if explaining the small bed. ‘But, if it helps…’ He snapped his fingers and the bed appeared to expand, purple silk coverlets replacing the blankets, in a moment it had four posts and a gold rimmed canopy; gold and purple cushions lay scattered around it. The chest had become a dresser of dark wood inlaid with gold surmounted by a mirror in which Ellie could see Prospero reflected, his finger hooked in the collar around Honey’s throat. ...

Part 1 Frankie Renoir was taking her normal shortcut through Amiens cemetery as it took 5 minutes less to get to work if she came through this way. She’d just passed the grave of Jules Verne and as usual she’d nodded politely at it. This one had always made her stare as there was a stone carved figure erupting out of the front. As if the person in there had been buried alive and was trying to escape! ...

Part Four Having been away running the meatgirl processing facility while Marjorie took a break, running the shorter program for women to experience the way that meatgirls were kept, stored and run down through the production line, I had returned home to find that Ollie, my husband and owner of the meatgirl shop that we live over in the apartment upstairs, was still away at some convention that he’d been invited to, I think the fact that it was being held near to a golf course may have swayed his decision to extend his trip. ...

Love of Life Part 4 We arrived at our destination in Noord, Aruba. This would be our new playground for several weeks ahead. We were both looking forward to many hours and days in the sun in Aruba. We decided to look the place over before unpacking our baggage. It was a very spacious house. It was not as big as my firehouse home in Minneapolis, but it was certainly big enough, and the appointments were ideal. The outside was delightful. In addition to the two pools, there was a hot tub, an outdoor cooking area, and a private lounge area. The first thing Sherry wanted to do was strip down to her rubber suit and jump in the pool. I agreed to join her later, then proceeded to bring the baggage in from the car. I was sweating excessively as I carried the bags. For a moment, I questioned my choice in coming to Aruba. Aruba is hot. It is a desert island. The good news is that it is very arid and there is always a substantial breeze to keep you cool. Unfortunately, the breeze is only effective for cooling bare skin. If we are sealed up in rubber, the breeze will probably bring little relief. We would have to plan our outings carefully. ...

How We Found Our Mutual Burial Fetish What started out as a bit of harmless fun fooling around at the beach while on holiday, turned into a fetish that both myself and my husband began to explore and enjoy, and revealed some of our secret, hidden fantasies to each other, that I enjoyed being buried and that he got great delight from burying me. It fitted in with me being more submissive in nature and him more willing to take control, he was always the more dominant one in our relationship, which was fine with me, and I was happy with letting him take charge. ...

Love of Life Part 3 Sherry and I surrounded ourselves with travel brochures and wandered through countless YouTube travel videos to find a suitable location to build a nest for ourselves. After hours and hours of researching locations, we decided that we would begin by trying out a few destinations to see if they could work for us. Unfortunately, there are no recommendations for travel brochures that focus on the quality of rubber life as a reason to settle there. We chose two locations as our first foray into home hunting: Aruba and Ireland. The plan was to pack a few essentials and travel there to rent a home through one of the B&B websites, and explore the area to see if it would work for us. I had been to Aruba on a business trip and liked the climate and the culture. It would be our first venture. September and November are the best times to visit Aruba. These months offer a good balance of good weather and fewer tourists compared to peak season. While temperatures can be warm, the trade winds help to keep things comfortable. Fortunately, Aruba is located south of the hurricane belt, so it is less prone to hurricanes. We immediately began to make arrangements to fly there in the coming weeks. We found a four-bedroom house in Noord, Oranjestad, with the privacy we required. We booked our flights and satisfied ourselves that we had officially made the first steps toward our new life together. ...

“The city skyline was a glittering tapestry of stolen jewels, a view Krystal appreciated from the penthouse she was currently liberating of its contents. She was a ghost, a whisper in the world of the ultra-rich, a beautiful phantom who took what she wanted. Krystal was a masterpiece of her own design: five feet of curated perfection, with hair the colour of spun moonlight, lips perpetually swollen into a pout, and a body that defied gravity. Her Z-cup breasts and impossibly round, high butt were her trademarks, assets she used as much as her lockpicks and charm. She was, in her own mind, the ultimate prize, so it only made sense she should possess all the others. ...

Part 1: The Promise of the Holodeck The modulated hum of the Starfleet Academy’s morning alarm was the only sound that managed to breach the thick bubble of Lindsey’s exhaustion. She opened her eyes wearily in the dim light of her private quarters, a privilege she had earned as Professor Strong’s chief assistant. It was a space of enforced order and solitude, a small sanctuary of polished metal and soft light, perfectly designed for a programmer’s mind. From the window, the morning sky stretched over the San Francisco Bay, a canvas of pale grays and blues. The fog, thick and silvery, clung to the spires of the city and the graceful curves of the Golden Gate Bridge. Through the viewport, Lindsey could almost smell the salty, damp air of the sea, a fragrance that mingled with the replicator’s faint coffee aroma and the clean scent of ozone from the life support systems. The sight of the massive Starfleet vessels docked in orbit, their silhouettes barely visible through the dense mist, served as a stark reminder of the galaxy’s immensity and the seeming insignificance of her own troubles. ...

Part 2: The Logic of Pleasure The modulated hum of the Starfleet alarm was the only sound that managed to penetrate Lindsey’s bubble of exhaustion. But this time, the sound didn’t feel like a painful interruption. The night before, despite the unease and excitement of her session with Morgana, she had slept for the first time in weeks without the heavy weight of stress. When she opened her eyes, the burden on her shoulders had vanished. Her mind, once a tangled mess of anxious thoughts, felt clear and efficient. Chronic fatigue had been replaced by an astonishing lucidity. ...

Being a fetishist can be a lonely existence, especially if you’re of a shy and retiring nature. Discovering things like BDSM during your years of sexual awakening in the early 2000s could be done completely privately online, with no need to visit old fashioned sex shops for magazines any more, and progressing from there onto other more specialist kinks would not be unusual given the nature of Internet links, chat rooms etc. But even basic BDSM didn’t really hit the mainstream media until a certain novel came out, so there was perhaps more danger of an embarrassing knock-back if one came out to their partner expressing certain desires back then. ...