<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Messy on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/messy/</link><description>Recent content in Messy on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:48 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/messy/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Chocolate-Dipped for Easter</title><link>/stories/2026/05/30/chocolate-dipped-for-easter/</link><pubDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2026/05/30/chocolate-dipped-for-easter/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-one-the-preparation"&gt;Part One: The Preparation&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The factory was silent at 2 a.m. Allie stood on the metal grating, the hum of idle machinery the only sound. Above her, the dipping vat loomed, a stainless steel behemoth still warm from the day&amp;rsquo;s last batch. The air smelled of cocoa butter and industrial cleaner.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The sign above the loading dock read &lt;strong&gt;Enrobé: Custom Confectionery&lt;/strong&gt;. Nothing more. The building was unmarked brick, easy to miss, but the windows glowed warm yellow. Inside, stainless steel counters gleamed next to whimsical displays: a life-sized chocolate carousel horse, a sugar glass chandelier, racks of novelty molds shaped like dinosaurs and ballerinas. Photos lined the far wall, past commissions for weddings, art galleries, and one very elaborate birthday party. This was not a factory. It was an eccentric artist&amp;rsquo;s playground.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sophie and Mark</title><link>/stories/2026/05/17/sophie-and-mark/</link><pubDate>Sun, 17 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2026/05/17/sophie-and-mark/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="5-spaniels"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Spaniels&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;h4 id="springer"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Springer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Do you need help finding anything?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Joan was a sweet, older, Welsh lady. She didn&amp;rsquo;t deserve having to deal with a couple of horny idiots.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But every sub needs a good collar, right?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We bought our first collar off the bad website. It was cheap, and flimsy, and just a little too tight (almost like they design sex collars with women’s necks in mind). We could do better. But we weren&amp;rsquo;t quite ready to go full fetish shop; a bit too pricey for a couple of enthusiastic beginners.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Maidbot Made Me a Meatgirl</title><link>/stories/2026/04/26/the-maidbot-made-me-a-meatgirl/</link><pubDate>Sun, 26 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2026/04/26/the-maidbot-made-me-a-meatgirl/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="5"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;h4 id="1--simmering-appetites"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1- Simmering Appetites&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Weeks blurred into a hazy rhythm after the Apex Grand&amp;rsquo;s near-catastrophe, Valerie&amp;rsquo;s dorm-room walls now plastered with photos of that last weekend—tangled limbs and tear-streaked grins frozen in time, a collage of bruises blooming like forbidden roses. College had swallowed her whole: lectures on postcolonial theory clashing in her mind with phantom pings of latex directives, her fingers tracing faint welts under flannel sheets during late-night calls with Jessie, the static crackle of the call a poor substitute for the polymer&amp;rsquo;s vice.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Maidbot Made Me a Meatgirl</title><link>/stories/2026/03/28/the-maidbot-made-me-a-meatgirl/</link><pubDate>Sat, 28 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2026/03/28/the-maidbot-made-me-a-meatgirl/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Valerie had asked Jessie to come over while her parents were away and to spend some time hanging out. She suggested that they could spend time by the pool and listen to some music, chat and have fun. Jessie had been friends with Valerie since high school, and both had recently graduated and were onto the next stage of their lives. Valerie would be going to college, while Jessie was hoping to find a better job than waitressing, like her mother.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>On Display to Thousands</title><link>/stories/2026/03/19/on-display-to-thousands/</link><pubDate>Thu, 19 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2026/03/19/on-display-to-thousands/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="prologue"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Prologue&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;If your BDSM reading preference is getting right to the action, followed by more action and nothing but action, you might want to skip this writing. I offer that suggestion as this is a true story of CNC play that details what happened to me over a long three days, so there are lots of facts, backstory, physical descriptions and personal thoughts that go along with the strict bondage and sexual abuse I received, i.e. to some it is a long read. Still, I’m told many BDSM enthusiasts find it intriguing as well as stimulating to read a real story over a fictional one. That said, I think you’ll find this one has more than enough action during its course. Some parts may even be hard to believe, but it all happened.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mia's Revenge</title><link>/stories/2026/03/01/mias-revenge/</link><pubDate>Sun, 01 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2026/03/01/mias-revenge/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The old Victorian house on Elmwood Lane had an air of quiet abandonment, its wraparound porch sagging slightly under the weight of years, and the faded blue shutters creaking in the gentle breeze. The elderly owner had passed away peacefully in her sleep half a year ago, leaving no immediate family to claim the place. The real estate agency, eager to flip it quickly, had contracted Nadia&amp;rsquo;s cleaning crew to strip it bare—remove every trace of the woman&amp;rsquo;s life, bag up the belongings, and leave it gleaming for potential buyers.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Looking for Lewd</title><link>/stories/2026/01/24/looking-for-lewd/</link><pubDate>Sat, 24 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2026/01/24/looking-for-lewd/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="looking-for-lewd-in-all-the-right-places"&gt;Looking for Lewd (in all the right places)&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Officer Escobedo opened the door of the adult movie theatre and stepped from the hundred-degree heat into blessed air conditioning. There had been a series of confused calls to the station house about lewd behavior, and Carlos had drawn the assignment. He looked around the lobby, which was empty save for the plump older brunette at the ticket and snack counter who was talking on a cell phone. He walked over and flashed his badge, explaining that he needed to go inside to check out some complaints. The woman shrugged and waved him toward the curtained entrance, still busy with her phone call.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Haute Cuisine</title><link>/stories/2025/12/26/haute-cuisine/</link><pubDate>Fri, 26 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/12/26/haute-cuisine/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="1-into-the-rabbit-hole"&gt;1. Into the rabbit hole&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I can&amp;rsquo;t believe we&amp;rsquo;re actually doing this,&amp;rdquo; said Sophie to her friend as the taxi closed in on their destination.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;If you get past the initial impression, it&amp;rsquo;s actually pretty cozy, and the food is fantastic,&amp;rdquo; Tina answered, looking lazily through the cab window at the evening strollers thinning out as the neighbourhoods were getting worse.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;&lt;em&gt;The food.&lt;/em&gt; &amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Yeah, kinda like pork, but more delicate. Healthier, too, or so they say.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Professor Kink's Escape Room Challenge Series Two</title><link>/stories/2025/12/21/professor-kinks-escape-room-challenge-series-two/</link><pubDate>Sun, 21 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/12/21/professor-kinks-escape-room-challenge-series-two/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="interactive-christmas-special"&gt;Interactive Christmas Special&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You wake up to find that it is bitterly cold and when you open your eyes you see snow swirling above you driven by a fierce, chill wind. You are lying on your back in a snowdrift along with your three escape room companions. You are all naked save for strategically wound cheesecloth scarves.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sitting up, you feel the bite of the wind more fiercely and suppressing a shiver, you force yourself to look around. You see only a flat expanse of snow and ice extending to all horizons. The only exception is a steel door a few meters away bearing the sign: ‘Santa’s Secret Sex Toy Factory’&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Zoo Volunteer</title><link>/stories/2025/12/20/the-zoo-volunteer/</link><pubDate>Sat, 20 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/12/20/the-zoo-volunteer/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Thanks for volunteering!&amp;rdquo; Sheila smiled cheerfully, swinging her legs playfully from the desk in the office.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Of course.&amp;rdquo; I offered. No better way to spend a Saturday evening than at the zoo with my crush, I didn&amp;rsquo;t say aloud.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Any questions with the volunteer forms?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Um, no, there sure were a lot of them though.&amp;rdquo; I added, rubbing my hand sore from signing. &amp;ldquo;Why do you need to know how much I weigh?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Domme Disposal Date</title><link>/stories/2025/12/13/domme-disposal-date/</link><pubDate>Sat, 13 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/12/13/domme-disposal-date/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I knew I was captivated by her after the third date. We had no trouble talking about a dozen subjects for hours, and her eyes shone with that delightful mix of intelligence and mischief. When Janet revealed she was kinky and a dominatrix, that just excited me further. I&amp;rsquo;d had some experience with light bondage and spanking, and we discussed fetishes for the rest of the evening.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;That was when Janet offered to show me her playroom, and I quickly agreed. She had an excellent if simple setup in the basement: St. Andrew&amp;rsquo;s cross, spanking bench, massage table with tie-down points and a cage underneath. An electric winch dangled from a beam for suspensions, and the floor was non-slip foam with a drain in the center. I know looking at it all made me a little flushed and I was already imagining myself under her tender mercies.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Hex and the City</title><link>/stories/2025/10/28/hex-and-the-city/</link><pubDate>Tue, 28 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/10/28/hex-and-the-city/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The crisp December air swirled with the scent of pine and smoldering sage, laced with something darker, more primal—a whisper of musk from the women&amp;rsquo;s skin, warmed by anticipation. Carrie led her coven through the shadowed back garden of their Brooklyn brownstone. It was Halloween, that velvet cusp between surrender and rebirth, and the four women had gathered as they always did: cloaked in velvet that clung to wondrous curves like a lover&amp;rsquo;s breath, their laughter a low, throaty hum that vibrated through the chill night.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Deep Down in the Depths of Servitude</title><link>/stories/2025/07/21/deep-down-in-the-depths-of-servitude/</link><pubDate>Mon, 21 Jul 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/07/21/deep-down-in-the-depths-of-servitude/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="foreword"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Foreword&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;When the paths of a strong and practiced BDSM Dominant and an adventurous and willing but green submissive collide, the result can be a fantastic and wild playdate, but it can also turn into a challenging, risky, and reckless one. Some would call what I allowed to be done to me as outright stupid. They are probably right. What follows is a journal transcribed into story style that details a five-day ‘submissive rental’ from my part-time best friend, part-time master aka Sir Michael to his BDSM Dominant buddy, Dr. D in Vegas in late October 2024.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>An Unwilling Canvas</title><link>/stories/2025/06/22/an-unwilling-canvas/</link><pubDate>Sun, 22 Jun 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/06/22/an-unwilling-canvas/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-two"&gt;Part Two&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Alright Fredrick, Gustav, lift her into place.&amp;rdquo; I heard Sonya’s voice from what felt like miles away. My body trembled as the two large men I had only caught glimpses of earlier that day obeyed her command. The metal pole was cold and unforgiving as it slid through the rings of my metal shackles and collar, the clank of bolts echoing in my ears as they secured me into place.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Taste, Touch, Smell</title><link>/stories/2025/05/11/taste-touch-smell/</link><pubDate>Sun, 11 May 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/05/11/taste-touch-smell/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“This feels strange,” she thought as he gently led her through her own house, his hands resting gently on her shoulders as they navigated their way through the living room.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At least, she assumed it was their living room, but she wasn’t completely sure with her eyes covered with a soft blindfold.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Hold on for a moment,” he said, taking his hands off her shoulders.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She heard chairs moving and then he led her to one of the chairs.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Disposal by the Law</title><link>/stories/2025/03/31/disposal-by-the-law/</link><pubDate>Mon, 31 Mar 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/03/31/disposal-by-the-law/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The courtroom is dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation. I stand before the bench, the polished wood gleaming under the stern gaze of Judge Emma. Her reputation precedes her—whispers of her ironic punishments have spread like wildfire since the government unleashed these “incentive judges” to tackle petty crimes in an overcrowded system. She adjusts her robes, her piercing eyes locking onto you as the faint hum of the crowd fades into silence. The gavel rests in her hand, poised for judgment.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Under Her Thumb</title><link>/stories/2025/03/16/under-her-thumb/</link><pubDate>Sun, 16 Mar 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/03/16/under-her-thumb/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Mary Piper had a good life. It wasn&amp;rsquo;t a great life, but it was certainly a good one. As a straight A student, she had few worries about getting the grades required to attend her university of choice. Outside of school her days were spent joyfully filling her time with the things she loved; reading, hiking, arts and crafts. It was a peaceful life, and one with which Mary was very content.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Lockdown Lovers</title><link>/stories/2025/01/11/lockdown-lovers/</link><pubDate>Sat, 11 Jan 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/01/11/lockdown-lovers/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The first Thursday of November had arrived. Here I was, another dreary start to the week at university. I hated it here, but having finally made the decision to aim for my dream job after years of holding back, I opted to attend here and begin my studies for veterinary medicine. It meant leaving my home town, leaving my friends behind, but it would be worth it, even if I hated the general atmosphere here, full of immature students engrossed in a culture of drinking, vomiting and trying to gain as many sexual partners as possible.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Love of Rubber</title><link>/stories/2024/11/11/love-of-rubber/</link><pubDate>Mon, 11 Nov 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/11/11/love-of-rubber/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="homestyle-part-three"&gt;Homestyle Part Three&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was Tuesday and I was still reeling from my long weekend in Minneapolis. I literally collapsed when I arrived home last night. I managed to remove my rubber layers but for the first time ever failed to clean my rubber before crashing for the evening. They would have to wait until this evening for me to properly care for them. Today would be another day at the office requiring my absolute attention. My company&amp;rsquo;s merger was imminent and details need to be finalized. I staggered to the shower, cleaned up and dressed for the day. I only had time for coffee before leaving for work.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Caught</title><link>/stories/2024/10/06/caught/</link><pubDate>Sun, 06 Oct 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/10/06/caught/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It had been weeks since it all ended, six weeks to be exact since I was dumped by my ex. Olivia. I was yet to get over her, I was yet to feel myself again, and the only part of me that I still had was trash and diapers. But that was it, nothing else defined me, I was lost and felt utterly worthless.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;With nothing else to do other than indulge in my fantasies and so I spent more and more time playing in my neighbor&amp;rsquo;s trash cans. But even that wasn’t enough to fulfill my fantasies, their trash cans were alright but nothing compared to my fantasies over Olivia&amp;rsquo;s trash.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Love of Rubber</title><link>/stories/2024/09/01/love-of-rubber/</link><pubDate>Sun, 01 Sep 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/09/01/love-of-rubber/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="return-to-paradise-part-four"&gt;Return to Paradise Part Four&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;What have I done? Stuck in five layers of rubber again. This time I am inflated to a maximum level at the mercy of two complete strangers who apparently have no hesitation to wrap someone else in layers of rubber and leave them alone for God only knows how long. What have I gotten myself into? All I could do was lay there like a beached whale unable to move and barely able to breathe. I awoke to the noise in the room. Who was there? I planned to check out this morning. Was it the cleaning staff here to change out the room? If so I expected to hear some commotion over the discovery of a rubber creature in the bed. There was no such commotion. Instead my inner suit was deflated and I was helped to sit up in bed and helped to my feet.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Love of Rubber</title><link>/stories/2024/04/28/love-of-rubber/</link><pubDate>Sun, 28 Apr 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/04/28/love-of-rubber/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="part-one-the-flight"&gt;Part One: THE FLIGHT&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My latest adventure in rubber takes me overseas to Hong Kong. Two weeks ago I headed off to Hong Kong on a business trip. I usually travel there at least two times a year. I’ll spend a couple days at our office in Hong Kong then spend a couple days in Shenzhen, Guangdong Province, China visiting factories. The trip has become fairly routine with a thirteen hour flight from Chicago, arriving in Hong Kong about six in the evening, trying to get enough sleep in the hopes that I will be awake enough to function the next day.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Risks of Dumpster Sex</title><link>/stories/2024/04/03/the-risks-of-dumpster-sex/</link><pubDate>Wed, 03 Apr 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/04/03/the-risks-of-dumpster-sex/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Are you sure this is gonna be safe?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Of course it is, I thought you were up for this?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I am, but it’s my first time doing this and I’d rather not end up inside a garbage truck!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Relax! This dumpster isn’t due to be collected until the afternoon, I know when pickup is! I do work here after all!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I know, I know! But what if someone calls for an early pickup?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Give And Take Roommates</title><link>/stories/2024/03/16/give-and-take-roommates/</link><pubDate>Sat, 16 Mar 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/03/16/give-and-take-roommates/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Valerie began to sob and mumbled, &amp;ldquo;I give up.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Myron finished sipping his smoothie and began smiling, &amp;ldquo;I didn&amp;rsquo;t quite hear that, honey.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Valerie was a very small woman by most standards. When she was standing she didn&amp;rsquo;t quite even hit 4'10&amp;quot;. And while she was fit, she didn&amp;rsquo;t really have much muscle from never being able to put on weight no matter what she did and stayed around 90 pounds. Her black shoulder length hair is pulled up into a tight braided ponytail with a leather strap woven into the braids. The leather strap is attached to a number of ropes and a pole holding her body taunt like a bow in a very strict hogtie. Her naked latina body shimmered with sweat not only from the baking sun but also the five plus hours she has struggled to escape. Her lips quivered for a moment before her facial expression changed, &amp;ldquo;Dammit Myron, I give up. Let me out.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Chateau</title><link>/stories/2024/02/17/the-chateau/</link><pubDate>Sat, 17 Feb 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/02/17/the-chateau/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-8--tormenting-the-slut"&gt;Chapter 8 – Tormenting The Slut&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“So,” I asked Paula, “Do you still consider yourself a switch?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I haven’t subbed in years,” she said thoughtfully, “but yeah, for the right person, maybe.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Let’s go see what’s happening downstairs,” I suggested.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;When we got to the wine cellar, Maggie had taken the old chair and put it outside the bars right in front of Heather. She was sitting there lightly rubbing the tip of the vibrator against Heather’s clit, which was sticking out prominently between the crotch ropes. Heather was already starting to sweat.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Chateau</title><link>/stories/2024/02/04/the-chateau/</link><pubDate>Sun, 04 Feb 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/02/04/the-chateau/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-6--a-bondage-orgy-continues"&gt;Chapter 6 – A Bondage Orgy Continues&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I looked around the room and everyone was staring at Heather. Everyone but Paula and I had stripped off some or all their clothing and all the guys were sporting erections. Most nipples were hard as well. I moved directly to Paula, kissed her hard and then started unbuttoning the front of her dress. That served as a starting signal and everyone else started in twos or threes to make out.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Very Messy Christmas Party</title><link>/stories/2023/12/10/a-very-messy-christmas-party/</link><pubDate>Sun, 10 Dec 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/12/10/a-very-messy-christmas-party/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Anne Fields was an office administrator, working in the city for a medium size finance company, which for most of the year meant keeping the office clean and open, with enough stocks of everything from mugs to paper to loo roll.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In practice it also meant that most of the account managers, almost all male, treated her like their own personal dogsbody, from ordering pizza to cleaning up spills and occasionally emptying their rubbish bins if they’d filled them up before the end of the day. On the upside the pay was quite good, even including a clothes allowance as she was occasionally required to greet clients and other office visitors.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Worthless and Unwanted</title><link>/stories/2023/09/23/worthless-and-unwanted/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Sep 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/09/23/worthless-and-unwanted/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;“You’re worthless!”&lt;/em&gt; She screamed at him, pushing him to the floor. It was no normal Thursday, but he knew that she was done with him. He knew that she no longer wanted him, for he was unable to give her what she needed rather he was completely reliant on her; and now she wanted no more of him. Finding her above him, a sudden jolt of pain strikes his ribcage, her feet kicking him senselessly. Then a solid blow lands to the genitals, sheer pain overcomes him, he screams. “Why don’t you shut up you worthless object” she snarled, no longer even a human he had been downgraded to merely an object. Then she lands a strike to the head, he blacks out.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Leon City Stories</title><link>/stories/2023/09/09/leon-city-stories/</link><pubDate>Sat, 09 Sep 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/09/09/leon-city-stories/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="11-strawberries-and-pets"&gt;11: Strawberries and Pets&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Ifry should have known. She herself was to blame for her situation and it didn&amp;rsquo;t look as if anything would change so soon. Not that she was feeling bad, not at all. She was, as the humans said, in seventh heaven and as long as Phaelyn continued, she would remain there.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Phae please… let, let me out… out already!&amp;rdquo; stuttered Ifry feverishly, straining against the firm grip of the Vacbed, which pressed mercilessly on every fiber of her body. The only thing that could be seen of her was her reddened head peeking out from the neck opening of the bed and resting on a soft pillow. The rest of her body was hidden under a layer of black latex. Still, the angel could see every detail of her naked demonic friend and she took advantage of Ifry&amp;rsquo;s inability to defend herself. Phaelyn held a vibrator in one hand, mercilessly pressing on Ifry&amp;rsquo;s crotch, while her other hand tenderly stroked her friend&amp;rsquo;s demon tail. Especially the latter brought Ifry to the brink of madness.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Professional Courtesy</title><link>/stories/2023/06/21/professional-courtesy/</link><pubDate>Wed, 21 Jun 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/06/21/professional-courtesy/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-1--the-meeting"&gt;Part 1 – The Meeting&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She saw him sitting at the table in the corner of the restaurant’s outdoor dining area. It was a beautiful spring day, and it was the perfect setting for their meeting. Public but not crowded. Privacy to a point, but enough to know that they had to keep their voices down. Not that it mattered to Monica. She loved to push her clients’ buttons by being just a little too loud to cause them to shrink in embarrassment.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Chain</title><link>/stories/2023/06/11/chain/</link><pubDate>Sun, 11 Jun 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/06/11/chain/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-39-the-weekend-two-spankings"&gt;Chapter 39: The Weekend, Two Spankings&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Fred woke up first, about 8am and stroked Clair’s face gently until she woke. Regina didn’t stir as they untangled and adjourned to the shower together. The sound of the shower running eventually woke Regina. The memories of last night came flooding back and she smiled, then, when she realized she was no longer tied to the bed, was very tempted to rub one off quickly. Realizing the shower had stopped, she put that idea out of her mind. She really did want to be a ‘good girl’ and stealing an orgasm just didn’t feel like something she should be doing.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jennifer's Holiday</title><link>/stories/2023/06/03/jennifers-holiday/</link><pubDate>Sat, 03 Jun 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/06/03/jennifers-holiday/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="6-maids"&gt;6: Maids&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At that moment, Maid arrived. Following behind her, rather unsteady on the towering platform heels, was her near-identical twin. Jane was wearing the same outfit, from the shoes and the maid&amp;rsquo;s dress up to the &amp;lsquo;Maid&amp;rsquo; collar and the white mask with the Cupid’s bow lips. She was maybe two centimetres shorter but otherwise hard to tell apart from Maid. “Wow,” Steve exclaimed. “You look amazing - both of you!” he added as Maid gave him a look which even through the latex mask was withering. Jane gave a twirl and a small curtsy, obviously delighted with the outfit.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Chain</title><link>/stories/2023/05/05/chain/</link><pubDate>Fri, 05 May 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/05/05/chain/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-34-sr-year-regina"&gt;Chapter 34: Sr. Year, Regina&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Fred and Clair’s housing situation certainly improved after their wedding with a move into University’s married housing, but their kinky sex life didn’t. They still visited Gran and Leon’s farm every weekend they could but during their senior year, classes were more challenging and seemed to involve more and more out of class work, so free weekends were fewer and farther between. Plus, it was cold at the farm in the dead of winter so they weren’t really thinking about going to the farm over semester break except perhaps for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. Who would miss one of Gran’s holiday farm feasts?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Chain</title><link>/stories/2023/03/04/chain/</link><pubDate>Sat, 04 Mar 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/03/04/chain/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-25-farm-morning"&gt;Chapter 25: Farm, Morning&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Fred overslept. “OH SHIT!” He awakened with a start. Looking at the clock he realized it was 9:30am, not awful but he should have thought to set his phone alarm. He never intended to leave Clair for, what, eight hours. Two glasses of wine and all the excitement of last night and he slept like a baby, he realized with some guilt. “Well,” he thought, “I need to stop thinking like Clair’s boyfriend and start thinking like her Dom.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Chain</title><link>/stories/2023/02/14/chain/</link><pubDate>Tue, 14 Feb 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/02/14/chain/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-23-cell-team-parties"&gt;Chapter 23: Cell, Team Parties&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At the Magnolia Tea Room, Karen requested a table in the back corner where the tennis teammates could talk in peace. Once they were seated Carmen said, “OK, Spill the beans!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jill looked around at the three women, her best friends since college, and pondered what and how much to tell them. She noticed, for the first time, that Carmen had a pretty gold chain around her neck with a heart shaped padlock. She must have put that on after showering.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Diggers</title><link>/stories/2023/01/31/diggers/</link><pubDate>Tue, 31 Jan 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/01/31/diggers/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="episode-one-first-impressions"&gt;Episode One: First impressions&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;«Diggers» — people who are interested in the study of artificial underground structures.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;October was ending. The wind forcefully tore off the last leaves that had not yet flown from the branches. Fine, cold, drizzling rain fell from the gray sky for the second day. People hurried about their business, escaping from the annoying rain under colorful umbrellas. Among the crowd, there was a 26-year-old young girl walking briskly. Her chilled hands were in the pockets of a leather jacket with a hood that was thrown over her head. Her name was Anastasia. Even on a dank day like this, when it would seem that no one cared about anyone, some men looked back at her before hurrying on about their own business. Stealthily, she noticed these greedy glances of hungry males, which gave her great pleasure. Sometimes she provoked men. Now she was wearing fine black leather jeans with a matte sheen, which softly and tightly hugged her firm buttocks and thighs. Raindrops rolling from the short jacket dropped on them, leaving long wet tracks. A slight smile played on her lips. When crossing the road at a traffic light, she was suddenly yelled at.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Reincarnation - The Life and Times of a Trash Bag</title><link>/stories/2022/11/19/reincarnation-the-life-and-times-of-a-trash-bag/</link><pubDate>Sat, 19 Nov 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/11/19/reincarnation-the-life-and-times-of-a-trash-bag/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="reincarnation---the-life-and-times-of-a-trash-bag"&gt;Reincarnation - The Life and Times of a Trash Bag&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You open your eyes following passing away. You see a mysterious ethereal creature reminiscent of a human standing before you. The being speaks to you in a low-pitched booming voice, “Human, you died just now, and this is the afterlife. Unlike what you believed, reincarnation is real. However, we are short on bodies to reincarnate you into, so this will be brief. Due to the lack of bodies on earth which are not currently occupied by souls, including animals, you will need to be reincarnated into a non-living item. At this time, we can only go by what’s available, so we bid you good luck on whatever item your soul inhabits. You will have a consciousness, albeit with limitations. Good luck and live a fruitful life.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subspace - Emma's Fetish Cruise Adventure</title><link>/stories/2022/10/10/subspace-emmas-fetish-cruise-adventure/</link><pubDate>Mon, 10 Oct 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/10/10/subspace-emmas-fetish-cruise-adventure/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-4-pet-play-and-cum-receptacles"&gt;Part 4. Pet Play and Cum Receptacles&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Emma continued holding Unworthy&amp;rsquo;s leash as they navigated through the large hall for the first &amp;ldquo;meet and greet&amp;rdquo; of the cruise. As they headed towards the N &amp;amp; M ranch and pet play booth, they began picking up a small crowd following them. Many were looking to talk to Emma and the elusive Miss Keys as well as their interest in Unworthy, also known to most as Miss Victoria, the brothel owner and part owner of the Subspace cruise ship.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Volleyball Wedgies from Hell</title><link>/stories/2022/08/21/volleyball-wedgies-from-hell/</link><pubDate>Sun, 21 Aug 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/08/21/volleyball-wedgies-from-hell/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;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.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Kink Trials</title><link>/stories/2022/06/26/the-kink-trials/</link><pubDate>Sun, 26 Jun 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/06/26/the-kink-trials/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="part-one---the-bet"&gt;Part One - The Bet&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Daisy snorted. “There’s just no hope for the future of the straights. Pure vanilla. Boring in every way. People like us are progressive. Creative. We’re the future. The past couldn’t accept women loving other women like I do, so we got creative and fought back. Every woman I’ve been with has told me she never experienced a true orgasm until she was with another woman who actually understood her biology. Hetero relationships will simply die out eventually if they can’t figure out something as simple as pleasing a woman.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>From Vanilla Girlfriend to Femdom Wife, A Journey</title><link>/stories/2022/06/21/from-vanilla-girlfriend-to-femdom-wife-a-journey/</link><pubDate>Tue, 21 Jun 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/06/21/from-vanilla-girlfriend-to-femdom-wife-a-journey/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-3"&gt;Part 3&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Once they had both recovered (she was just as in need of catching her breath as he), she turned back to her interrogation.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;So, as you see, none of what you have said so far is scaring me off. Far from it. Continue.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Very well, my goddess, here goes. So, I mentioned cages and so forth. Well, I once read a story online about someone being tightly bound, then locked into a box, which was then screwed shut and buried under the floor. The victim had a catheter and enema butt plug and feeding tube&amp;hellip;if it were me I’d also have earphones to hear what&amp;rsquo;s going on in her bedroom after I’d been incarcerated and a tiny chastity cage&amp;hellip;in another story the man asks if he can be locked in a basement cell and not be let out unless he can escape&amp;hellip;but his wife keeps adding more and more bondage making it impossible and eventually takes another man as her lover upstairs and then fakes his disappearance so he can realise his secret fantasy of being permanently bound in her cell. He regrets it of course but by then he&amp;rsquo;s signed the contract and is already locked in a cell wearing serious amounts of metal restraints and she has convinced herself that his pleas to escape are all part of the &amp;lsquo;scene&amp;rsquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Double Scoop</title><link>/stories/2022/05/30/double-scoop/</link><pubDate>Mon, 30 May 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/05/30/double-scoop/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Eddie and Patty had known each other since high school. Working part time at the local ice cream shop helped them to re-acquaint themselves. In addition to ice cream, sundaes and milkshakes, the shop also sold hamburgers, hot dogs, fries and other grilled foods. After work, they started dating again and realized how much they had in common. Sunday afternoons were always busy at the shop. Sometimes in the winter months, business was slow and they would go off into an employee lounge for some quick enjoyable sexual encounters. They had to be cautious in case the bell would ring and a rare customer would come into the shop.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion</title><link>/stories/2022/03/01/institute-for-complete-rubber-immersion/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Mar 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/03/01/institute-for-complete-rubber-immersion/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Continues from &lt;a href="institute_for_complete_rubber_immersion19.html"&gt;chapter 39&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h3 id="40"&gt;40&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Once the test on Level 10 timed out I immediately turned and made my way back to the shelf from which I had procured the helpful lanyard. As I raised my arm to replace it a dull thump penetrated the layers of my isolation. I turned and saw that my dressing assistant and the Nurse had returned. The Californian was speaking rapidly as she strode towards me but not a word of it penetrated my helmet and hoods. She brusquely took the lanyard from my big black rubber mitten. Her voice was louder now but still beyond my comprehension. Our Nurse handed her a phone, pointing to the screen. Soon the lively monologue of my assistant was assaulting my ears through the communications link.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sleeping With The Wrong Man</title><link>/stories/2022/01/27/sleeping-with-the-wrong-man/</link><pubDate>Thu, 27 Jan 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/01/27/sleeping-with-the-wrong-man/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Hey there sexy, come on in!” said Marcus.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“How long have we got?” asked Chloe as she walked through the door.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Should have about four hours before Kirsten gets back. She’s out for the afternoon” responded Marcus, closing the door behind Chloe.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Brilliant! I’ve missed you, you sexy thing!” said Chloe, wasting no time in wrapping her arms around Marcus.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I’ve missed you too baby! Love my little bit of blonde on the side!” said Marcus cheekily as he whisked Chloe away to the bedroom.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion</title><link>/stories/2022/01/20/institute-for-complete-rubber-immersion/</link><pubDate>Thu, 20 Jan 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/01/20/institute-for-complete-rubber-immersion/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Continues from &lt;a href="institute_for_complete_rubber_immersion18.html"&gt;chapter 37&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h3 id="38"&gt;38&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My pink day-suit hugged me. My vacuum-sealed Aquala squeezed me. Massive Thor enveloped me whole. The extreme weight of my accessories pushing me towards the Earth were powerless to stop my flight to the heavens. Within the otherworldly diving helmet I&amp;rsquo;d reached yet another level of heavy rubber immersion. I&amp;rsquo;d all but forgotten that I had ever had another life before entering the Institute.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A familiar voice startled me. I scanned the room through the thick glass but my assistant and the Nurse had vanished, leaving me unattended. &amp;ldquo;Earth to 123, can you hear me?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ghost Town</title><link>/stories/2021/11/04/ghost-town/</link><pubDate>Thu, 04 Nov 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/11/04/ghost-town/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;As the movers retreated down my new street with a friendly wave, I stood across from my new home, and thought about Josh.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He would have thought me silly and unusually girlish for having bought such a cliché - small white picket fence, roses, the whole bit - but I knew that was a side of me that he loved. He would have loved the big garage with the attached shop - that was another reason I’d bought this place. I didn’t need a workshop myself. I’d bought it because Josh would have loved it. It didn’t look as cheery with the gathering clouds of a spring storm above, but it was - almost ridiculously cheery. Well, perhaps it was time for some cheer. I’d been mourning a long time.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Kneel or No Kneel</title><link>/stories/2021/09/25/kneel-or-no-kneel/</link><pubDate>Sat, 25 Sep 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/09/25/kneel-or-no-kneel/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="chapter-1"&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s Monday night and that can only mean one thing…it&amp;rsquo;s time for Kneel or No Kneel!&amp;rdquo; the announcer&amp;rsquo;s voice boomed across the soundstage as thunderous applause from the audience erupted. Spot lights instantly came to life, shining hot lights upon the stage where I stood in silence. &amp;ldquo;Now here&amp;rsquo;s your favorite host, the one…the only…Horny Bondel!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Thank you, thank you, it&amp;rsquo;s great to be here for another episode of Kneel or No Kneel,” Horny said as he confidently strode to the center of the stage where I awaited him. &amp;ldquo;Tonight we have the lovely Kristin Kailey competing. It&amp;rsquo;s great to have you with us Kristin.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Double Stuffed</title><link>/stories/2021/09/19/double-stuffed/</link><pubDate>Sun, 19 Sep 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/09/19/double-stuffed/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Oof! “What happened to my head?” I groan, while gradually getting my vision back. “I feel like someone hit me…” Starting to recover from the stars circling my head, I look up to see my girlfriend with a golf club. A nine-iron to be exact.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“What’s the big idea…” I start to moan out before she screams back “Silence! How dare you bring another girl into our apartment! Into &lt;strong&gt;MY&lt;/strong&gt; home!” The scowl across her brows shows she’s clearly pissed off.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Motherly Love</title><link>/stories/2021/08/16/motherly-love/</link><pubDate>Mon, 16 Aug 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/08/16/motherly-love/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Bored. I was so unbelievably &lt;em&gt;bored.&lt;/em&gt; Today was particularly dull, as many of my days often are. School was as monotonous as ever for me, I usually got top grades, and nothing challenged me. I never really participated in any sports teams, preferring to keep to myself, and though I had my share of friends, I was often by myself with just my thoughts and my laptop to keep me company, by choice rather than circumstance. Oh, but where are my manners? My name is Sarah, I’m 24 years old and I live in Toronto, Canada. Life in the city is pretty good, but dreadfully boring most of the time, and the nightclubs and restaurants and other entertainment available rarely did much to quell that boredom. There was one thing though that did however: the garbage.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Submissive Male Trash Serves a Dominant Garbage Bagger</title><link>/stories/2021/05/16/submissive-male-trash-serves-a-dominant-garbage-bagger/</link><pubDate>Sun, 16 May 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/05/16/submissive-male-trash-serves-a-dominant-garbage-bagger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My online hookup profile contains photos showing my young twink boy appearance, a big dick and swimmers physique. At 5'3&amp;quot; and 110 pounds soaking wet my profile gets plenty of attention. A portion of my profile reads…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Relaxed, Boyish and Respectful. Responsible boy permanently attached in an open relationship. Not into drugs, just a little weed. I am exploring new avenues of degradation play and seeking kinky encounters with dudes exhibiting good attitudes.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Davinia</title><link>/stories/2021/04/03/davinia/</link><pubDate>Sat, 03 Apr 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/04/03/davinia/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-5-part-3---in-the-oil-servicing-business"&gt;Chapter 5 (part 3) - In The Oil Servicing Business&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Once Arkady and Boris had finished with Erin and Davinia, Lady Samantha and Yvette chained them, and gave them a bath and food, and rubbed salve on their stripes. Then they were locked together in their cell, as usual.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“How do you feel?” asked Davinia of her naked companion.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“All right. I&amp;rsquo;ve been used by Boris before. He was holding back, actually, saving some for Arkady later. You&amp;rsquo;re now a business bonus!” said Erin.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Living The Dream</title><link>/stories/2021/03/10/living-the-dream/</link><pubDate>Wed, 10 Mar 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/03/10/living-the-dream/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="part-1---retirement"&gt;Part 1 - Retirement:&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After about 25 years of being a medical industry executive, I decided retiring was in my interest, as the companies I founded and helped create new products for the world were pretty much autonomous, and I decided to focus on other hobbies. Following retirement, my wife (Lana) and I (Chris) decided to purchase some land in Minnesota, where I can kick back and relax. We had kids early, and so they are pretty much grown.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Feliformia</title><link>/stories/2021/02/04/feliformia/</link><pubDate>Thu, 04 Feb 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/02/04/feliformia/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Continues from &lt;a href="feliformia12-1.html"&gt;chapter twelve (part 1)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h3 id="chapter-12---cats-of-the-caribbean-part-2"&gt;Chapter 12 - Cats of the Caribbean (Part 2)&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Aaah! Aaaahn! Mmmm! More! Mooore!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Shhh! They will hear us!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Aaahn! But&amp;hellip; I want&amp;hellip; mooore! aaah!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As I had my beautiful Syr pinned under me on the mattress and accepting my love and begging for more pleasure, I couldn&amp;rsquo;t ask for a better vacation so far. What had started as a fiasco had turned into a very enjoyable adventure. We had so much fun that we even decided to extend our stay by an additional week.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Animal Cafe</title><link>/stories/2020/11/18/animal-cafe/</link><pubDate>Wed, 18 Nov 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/11/18/animal-cafe/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-12---delicious-pets"&gt;Chapter 12 - Delicious Pets&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Open wide!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;&amp;hellip; mmmph!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;There you go&amp;hellip; Thanks so much for doing this for me on your day off.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I nodded&amp;hellip; that was all I could do now that my mouth was stuffed with the soft mouthpiece, and my nose was invaded by the nose tubes. Lucy was turning me into a white rabbit again. I always seemed to end up in trouble after something nice happened to me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jessica Monique Lace</title><link>/stories/2020/10/20/jessica-monique-lace/</link><pubDate>Tue, 20 Oct 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/10/20/jessica-monique-lace/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="kongs-dong"&gt;Kong&amp;rsquo;s Dong&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jessica Monique Lace, a young and beautiful blonde, who happens to be the world&amp;rsquo;s leading explorer/adventurer. Throughout the 1920s and the early 1930s, Jessica has ventured into different parts of the world and had many exciting stimulating adventures. She is known for her legendary adventures, including the time she was an Egyptian mummy inside a pyramid, forced to walk a plank with her hands tied behind her back only wearing her silk cream lacy tap panties and camisole and the time she was nearly sold into a harem to be the sheik’s sex slave.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Messy Riding Lessons</title><link>/stories/2020/06/28/messy-riding-lessons/</link><pubDate>Sun, 28 Jun 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/06/28/messy-riding-lessons/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It started, as so many of these things do, with a night where we had drunk far too much Prosecco and been giggling and joking about, as girls do. Hilary had just won a major event, so we had bedded down the horses and decided to celebrate. Then, the conversation turned to our attributes, specifically we were goading Sarah saying she was a natural sub and that she could never switch.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Rubbercat Tails</title><link>/stories/2020/05/24/rubbercat-tails/</link><pubDate>Sun, 24 May 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/05/24/rubbercat-tails/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Continues from &lt;a href="rubbercat_tails1.html"&gt;chapter one&lt;/a&gt;_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;### Chapter 2 - Easter Cats&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Wear it!”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;“No, Kitty. I’m busy right now. I have to finish this online management course. Maybe we will play later.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;“No, wear it now!”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Erika wore her new furry suit for Mark’s birthday, but she never put it back on after, to my great despair. It’s been three weeks already, and I didn’t get to cuddle again with this soft cat a single time since.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Business Trip</title><link>/stories/2020/03/16/business-trip/</link><pubDate>Mon, 16 Mar 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/03/16/business-trip/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Seems like every few months you’re doing this. Head off to a new part of the country in the hopes to wrangle in some new clients for the company. You’ve slowly worked your way up but now being one of the sales managers, sometimes taking trips sends you to new places that you’ve both wanted to explore and could care less about.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well this past week was no different. Grab the rental car and head off. Nothing like a 7 hour drive to clear your head and over think things. But by the end of it, you just hope the hotel you’re booked into is decent.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Leopard One Night</title><link>/stories/2020/03/12/leopard-one-night/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Mar 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/03/12/leopard-one-night/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Aaaaaah! Home!&amp;hellip; Home, Home, Home!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My name is Rosi, 32 years old, and I was finally home after a long week at work. Yes, It was finally Friday, and I was going to enjoy myself for once. Not committed to anything else other than relaxing as much as possible, this weekend, I would turn myself into a leopard. Roar!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I traded my keys and purse for a small squishy package that was sitting on the Ikea table in my kitchen. I hugged and rocked it as if it was a baby while I trotted to my small bedroom. I laid down on the white tiger printed on the soft plush blanket, and the foam mattress silently absorbed my weight. I hugged my package even more.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Raincoat Captive</title><link>/stories/2020/03/06/raincoat-captive/</link><pubDate>Fri, 06 Mar 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/03/06/raincoat-captive/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="raincoat_captive.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h3 id="part-2"&gt;Part 2&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“However, after giving it some thought I have decided to allow you some freedom as it will be necessary for you to still go to work. So this is what is going to happen. You stay here at my place on weekends for me to do just what I like with you, and the weekdays you go to work and earn money so we can buy you some more special clothing.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dumpster Diving With My Girlfriend</title><link>/stories/2020/02/24/dumpster-diving-with-my-girlfriend/</link><pubDate>Mon, 24 Feb 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/02/24/dumpster-diving-with-my-girlfriend/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Me and my girlfriend Lara met for the first time a couple of months ago, and it was immediate chemistry. Our personality seems to be perfectly matched. One of the things that impressed me about her was that she wasn’t disgusted by the trash. One time, we were at her place (she still lives with her parents and her little brother) and opening the lid of the food waste bin she saw that his brother had thrown the cellophane of his new phone in there. Without any problem, she dug with her bare hand in the mug, taking way too much time for grabbing it and messing around with the waste.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Feliformia</title><link>/stories/2020/02/16/feliformia/</link><pubDate>Sun, 16 Feb 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/02/16/feliformia/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Continues from &lt;a href="feliformia.html"&gt;chapter one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h3 id="chapter-2---adoption"&gt;Chapter 2 - Adoption&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Erika came back from the washrooms and sat in her lounge chair, facing mine. A fresh beer was waiting for her on the coffee table between us. It seemed that she enjoyed herself tonight.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I don’t know about you, Mark, but I just love this pub. And we got the best seats too. So, where were we?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I nodded in agreement about the pub. I’ve been here in the past, and it was one of my favorite places. The corner we were in was set up as an intimate lounge, which was fantastically comfortable.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Penitent Mess</title><link>/stories/2019/12/12/the-penitent-mess/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Dec 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/12/12/the-penitent-mess/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Kneel…” She glances around nervously before kneeling on a large sheet of plastic. She looks up, he is there, smiling, a shudder runs through her body, she has given herself to him, allowing him permission to do what he wishes, confident in the knowledge that, although she may never ask for what she will receive she will love every moment that will come to her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Pies… It has to start with pies and I have plenty. I feel nervous, but I mustn’t allow my sub to see the chinks in my armor. I so want to give her what she wants, what she is crying out for. I want to see that faraway look, the fear which turns to ecstasy as I approach with more substances. I smile, the time has arrived to have our fun.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Surprise Party</title><link>/stories/2019/12/12/the-surprise-party/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Dec 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/12/12/the-surprise-party/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jane glanced around, she was nervous and had tried her best to keep out of the way of her boss. She realised that she had made a major mistake and now she would have to face the consequences. They would say that she had one job to do, actually she had hundreds of jobs to do, she had taken the job as a groom at a private yard but the job had become groom, riding instructor, nannie, cook, cleaner and PA. Months of seventy hour weeks spending time as the families dogsbody and living in what had been described as a ‘bright and airy room in the family house’ which had been in fact a damp hovel over the stables and tack room.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Wetsuit Mummy</title><link>/stories/2019/12/12/wetsuit-mummy/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Dec 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/12/12/wetsuit-mummy/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I watch you hanging from the Saint Andrew&amp;rsquo;s Cross, you requested, no begged for something extreme and I think I have been able to deliver. You are wearing a wetsuit, three mil of black neoprene encases your body. I know from experience that a suit like this will stretch to some degree as part of this session.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You look into my eyes, you are drooling around the bright red ball gag which sits between your teeth, your wrists above you strapped with soft leather straps and your ankles below you leaving you in an attractive ‘X’.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Amy's Pleasures: Fun in the Compactor</title><link>/stories/2019/10/13/amys-pleasures-fun-in-the-compactor/</link><pubDate>Sun, 13 Oct 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/10/13/amys-pleasures-fun-in-the-compactor/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Amy closed the door behind her. She turned around, and there it was. The residential trash compactor, home to the garbage of the local block, consisting of 20 flats. One man, the caretaker, would bring everyone’s trash to the compactor at the end of each day. This meant Amy would be less likely to be disturbed, and didn’t have to worry about the potential of many different neighbours walking in on her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Cotton Crotch</title><link>/stories/2019/06/04/the-cotton-crotch/</link><pubDate>Tue, 04 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/06/04/the-cotton-crotch/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I really never trusted Jennifer. I&amp;rsquo;d met her late one night when I was working in the quiet of the college library working on a project for work. Jennifer laughed with her friends, and flirted openly towards me - much to the amusement of her friends. Jennifer&amp;rsquo;s devious, hollow brown eyes and dark skin made her look Italian. I could not keep my eyes off the panty line on her tight worn jeans. I&amp;rsquo;d always loved the look of a cute woman&amp;rsquo;s ass in panties. I&amp;rsquo;d imagine what she looked like in them, my face drawing near as I slowly eased them down&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fuck Doll</title><link>/stories/2019/06/01/fuck-doll/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/06/01/fuck-doll/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The large man grabs my legs and wraps them around him. I keep them there because I know I&amp;rsquo;m supposed to. Fuck dolls are supposed to stay as they&amp;rsquo;re put, and as the permanent marker scrawled across my exposed stomach reads, I am a &amp;ldquo;fuck doll,&amp;rdquo; at least for the night. The stranger unzips his pants and roughly shoves himself inside of me. I actually love the way he feels inside of me, but manage to resist the urge to gasp and moan.
&amp;ldquo;This one doesn&amp;rsquo;t feel too bad,&amp;rdquo; he calls to one of his friends nearby, as he pounds in and out of me, making my pussy wetter and wetter. He doesn&amp;rsquo;t even look at me while he makes me feel amazing. A fuck doll doesn&amp;rsquo;t deserve to be looked at. Still, I&amp;rsquo;m aware that a couple of other people at Master&amp;rsquo;s party are looking at me right now, as I silently fight not to move and not to cum, a task this man is making harder and harder. He&amp;rsquo;s big and he keeps pounding into me even deeper, until finally my pussy is filled with a hot stream of his seed, and he immediately tosses my legs down and leaves me on the ground, wanting to moan and beg him for more. But I know my place.
&amp;ldquo;You should try her,&amp;rdquo; he advises his friend before departing to get food, or mingle, or be with a worthier girl. I know Master has private rooms where his better girls are allowed, girls who are allowed to do more things. But tonight, I&amp;rsquo;m just a fuck doll.
It feels like mere seconds before this next man is on top of me, and attempting to fill me with his rather small dick. He doesn&amp;rsquo;t look attractive, and part of me just wants him to get away, but I willingly take his dick all the same. After all, it gives me a chance to recover from how hard the previous man had been on my poor pussy. I know tonight will be a lot of harsh, nonstop fucking, and my mind wearies on the thought of not being able to move or cum the whole night. I&amp;rsquo;m not sure how I&amp;rsquo;m supposed to last. Even this man is starting to push me to the edge. I bite my tongue to keep from shouting out when he cums inside me. For a small man, he came a lot, the powerful streams almost eliciting my own climax, but I know I mustn&amp;rsquo;t.
Next, an attractive middle-aged man decides to play with me. He actually looks at me and smiles, calming me down a little, before he disgustedly looks away. I wish I could ask him if I&amp;rsquo;ve done something wrong, but before I can worry about it for too long, he&amp;rsquo;s ravishingly biting and sucking my right nipple while he roughly gropes my left breast and runs his thumbnail in circles over my left nipple. It feels so fucking good. I can&amp;rsquo;t help it. I moan. Quietly, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. He chuckles a little, and stops, releasing my now-burning nipples, and stares at me. He winks, and then continues his assault on my breasts. I know he knows how much trouble I would be in if Master finds out I was making sounds, but I trust him, and I can&amp;rsquo;t really help it, so I keep quietly moaning.
When my breasts begin to ache to the point I can&amp;rsquo;t bear, he graciously stops. He looks my whole body up and down; I am completely naked except for the writing on my stomach. He slowly reaches his hand up my thigh, teasing me, knowing how much I want him, and lightly passes his finger over my slit, where my own juices are mixed with the other two mens, and I&amp;rsquo;m pathetically soaked.
&amp;ldquo;My, my, aren&amp;rsquo;t you just begging to be fucked,&amp;rdquo; he soothingly says as he wipes his finger off on my stomach in delicate swirls. He takes my lack of response as a yes, and soon undoes his pants and starting fucking me, slowly at first. I think he is still just teasing me. He plays in my entrance, and slowly enters me just a little more at a time, but I know I&amp;rsquo;m not allowed to move. I&amp;rsquo;m not allowed to push myself closer no matter how much I want him fully inside me. Finally he&amp;rsquo;s inside me, and he starts fucking me hard, steadily increasing his speed. I feel an orgasm building inside of me, and I don&amp;rsquo;t know what to do. I can&amp;rsquo;t ask him to stop: not only can fuck dolls not speak, but I don&amp;rsquo;t want him to stop at all. I can&amp;rsquo;t cum either though. Master would be furious.
As I start to lose control, he whispers in my ear &amp;ldquo;You can cum. Master won&amp;rsquo;t know.&amp;rdquo; That&amp;rsquo;s all the encouragement I need as I let my orgasm come, doing my best to hide it so anyone else watching won&amp;rsquo;t know how bad of a slut I am. The man continues to fuck me deep and hard, prolonging my orgasm and my chances of getting caught. It&amp;rsquo;s not until after I finish completely that the man pulls out. I am surprised he hasn&amp;rsquo;t cum inside me, until he stands above me and smirks before letting jets of his hot, amazing seed cover my body. I can&amp;rsquo;t help but smile, even though his gaze has now shifted elsewhere, and he soon walks away.
The next hour or so goes similarly, with man after man just using me, and treating me like the worthless toy I am, and me being a good little fuck doll, following all my rules, even when some guys make me want to cum more than anything. Of course, some make me want to run away and hide more than anything. But I don&amp;rsquo;t. I am a good fuck doll.
Except for when that man uses me again. Thank god he does, because I&amp;rsquo;m desperate to cum, and I do cum on him again, grateful for the escape from my punishment. After he&amp;rsquo;s done, it is time for dinner, and all the guests sit at elegant tables covered in splendid white tablecloths. I lay on the floor with my legs spread apart, as I know Master wants.
I find myself surprised at how wet I&amp;rsquo;m getting during dinner, and I want to wipe away the numerous juices that are now flowing down my thigh, my wetness adding to their movement. But I&amp;rsquo;m not allowed to move.
After dinner, I get fucked by guy after guy again. At one point, I see Master walking across the room, and I look at him, trying to tell him with my eyes that I want this to end, trying to beg him to not let these strangers do this to me anymore. I only want him.
Master sees me staring and angrily walks over, while some guy continues to fuck my pussy. Master roughly grabs my hair and jerks my head to the side, so I&amp;rsquo;m not facing him. &amp;ldquo;Fuck dolls aren&amp;rsquo;t good enough to look at Master,&amp;rdquo; He whispers before walking away for the night.
Two more times before the night ends, the man that agreed not to tell Master comes back, and I get to cum like the naughty slut I am. He doesn&amp;rsquo;t say anything anymore, doesn&amp;rsquo;t bother teasing my nipples, or even looking at me. But I need to come so badly by the time he shows up, that he barely has time to fuck me at all before I climax.
When everyone leaves, I am still on the floor. I wait for Master. After what feels like an eternity, He comes into the room and looks at me.
&amp;ldquo;You are a mess,&amp;rdquo; He announces, shaking his head and leaving the room. Moments later he comes back with a naked young man. I recognize him as one of Master&amp;rsquo;s subs, but I don&amp;rsquo;t know his name.
&amp;ldquo;Sebastian, clean my fuck doll,&amp;rdquo; Master states, as the young man gets on the floor next to me, and starts licking up my thigh, sucking some of the cum that coats my filthy body. His tongue feels amazing, especially as he starts licking up the juices from my sopping pussy, and flicking his tongue around my sensitive clit. I manage not to cum, though, and soon the man moves on to the rest of my body, licking me completely clean as Master watches.
Once my entire body is cleaned, Master brings me into his bedroom to &amp;ldquo;speak privately&amp;rdquo; with me. I see he is fully hard as he talks, which admittedly distracts me. &amp;ldquo;How did you enjoy being a filthy fuck doll?&amp;rdquo; he asks with a sweetness in his eyes.
I hesitate with my answer, but then decide it&amp;rsquo;s best to be honest with Master. &amp;ldquo;Not very much, Sir. I only want You.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Is that so?&amp;rdquo; He starts to stroke himself. &amp;ldquo;And I bet you&amp;rsquo;re tired of not getting to move?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Yes, sir,&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Would you like to move?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Yes, sir,&amp;rdquo; I smile widely as he gives me a nod, and I start sucking his enormous cock. I swirl my tongue around, enjoying His taste, and then take him even deeper. He&amp;rsquo;s not like the others at the party. Everyone else was a stranger, but He means the world to me. I start to fuck him with the back of my throat until I gag, but I push through it and deepthroat him hard, my pussy getting soaking wet again. He moans a little, and I delight greatly in His pleasure.
&amp;ldquo;Do you remember why I made you a fuck doll tonight, slut?&amp;rdquo;
I release his cock so I can answer, but he grabs my head and shoves his cock back into my throat, fucking me even harder and deeper. Tears stream down my eyes as I gag and struggle to breathe, but I feel more and more turned on.
&amp;ldquo;Did I say you could stop?!&amp;rdquo; He barks. Even though he&amp;rsquo;s not even touching my pussy, I still feel all the fucking from that day and Master down my throat, and I start to need release again.
&amp;ldquo;I made you a fuck doll because when I told you to cum, you didn&amp;rsquo;t. You tried to fake it, you whore.&amp;rdquo; He fucks my throat even harder as I keep crying and start getting dizzy. &amp;ldquo;This time, when I say to cum, you better fucking cum, my bitch.&amp;rdquo; He&amp;rsquo;s merciless to my throat, and I&amp;rsquo;m just begging he&amp;rsquo;ll tell me to cum already.
&amp;ldquo;Cum for me, whore,&amp;rdquo; he demands, and I let myself cum, screaming out with pleasure as I do. It feels nice to be loud again. Master cums into me, and this sends me cuming again, a feeling of euphoria completely consuming me. Master deeply kisses me and I kiss him back. His lips are strong, but gentle, and I know he&amp;rsquo;s done torturing me for now.
Or so I thought. &amp;ldquo;You&amp;rsquo;ll be a fuck doll at my next party too,&amp;rdquo; He says to my surprise.
&amp;ldquo;What? But I came! I did everything you said!&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Did you? My little spy says you came for him four times tonight.&amp;rdquo;
I look down, ashamed.
He lightly kisses me on the cheek. &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s okay, doll. Just don&amp;rsquo;t let it happen at all next time and you won&amp;rsquo;t have to be a fuck doll again.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Yes, Sir.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dumping the Slut</title><link>/stories/2019/05/20/dumping-the-slut/</link><pubDate>Mon, 20 May 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/05/20/dumping-the-slut/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Damn it, I can’t remember if we needed eggs” Kaylee said to herself as she walked around the supermarket. She reached for her mobile phone so she could call her boyfriend, Alex. She checked her bag. She checked her pockets. However, her mobile phone was nowhere to be found.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Crap. I must have left it at home. I’ll buy some more eggs just in case”. Little did she know how grave this error would be. And we aren’t talking about the eggs.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jessie's Journey</title><link>/stories/2019/05/20/jessies-journey/</link><pubDate>Mon, 20 May 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/05/20/jessies-journey/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“I’ll buy that one. Very pretty, I will have a lot of fun with her!” said the man. One card payment later, and the deal was done.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The product in question was named “The Sexbot Buddie”. The Sexbots were part of the bigger “Buddie Range”, designed by a company that created state of the art robotic companions, to which these robots were incredibly lifelike. They had an appearence eerily similar to humans, and even more amazingly, had been coded to feel emotion. The robots had an excellent understanding of the world too. Some people hailed it as the greatest invention ever, others weren’t so pleased as they seen it as a way towards replacing humans, both in the workplace and at home. Some “Buddies” were primarily designed to do chores around the house, others were designed to give companionship to the elderly. But in this case, the Sexbot’s main function was (unsurprisingly) for sexual needs, a much more lifelike design than your average blow up doll.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Love and War</title><link>/stories/2019/03/14/love-and-war/</link><pubDate>Thu, 14 Mar 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/03/14/love-and-war/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="loveandwar8.html"&gt;chapter eight&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h4 id="chapter-9-my-dungeon"&gt;Chapter 9: My Dungeon&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Carly showed up today. After the usual chit chat, she asked me,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“When are you gonna show me your dungeon? After having wild sex with Selena, I think I’m ready to see your dungeon.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Excuse me?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Your dungeon. I have watched several videos you have made and I recognize the background as your playroom in some but not all of them, so you must have another place you shoot videos. I know it’s not the barn either. Is it in the basement?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Love and War</title><link>/stories/2019/03/08/love-and-war/</link><pubDate>Fri, 08 Mar 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/03/08/love-and-war/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="loveandwar5.html"&gt;chapter five&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h4 id="chapter-6-true-love"&gt;Chapter 6: True Love&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The first day Carly came to see me after the party I could tell things were different. I knew now, without a doubt, that I was in love. I don’t use those words loosely. I hoped Carly felt the same about me. I felt more comfortable discussing sex and bondage with her and I could sense she was more relaxed about it too.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Escape From Prison</title><link>/stories/2019/02/23/escape-from-prison/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Feb 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/02/23/escape-from-prison/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was another dull day at the All Women’s Penitentiary for Jasmine. Captured in her early 20s for being involved in a huge drug trafficking operation, Jasmine was closing in on 30 now and only just halfway through her sentence. The sheer thought of being in here for another 8 years depressed her. Often Jasmine dreamed of escape, but she could never find a loophole in the tight security. She sat in the outer courtyard wishing another day away. The inmates were allowed outside daily, and on Thursdays the majority of them usually played basketball. However, Jasmine wasn’t keen on basketball and would spend her “outdoor time” away from the courts.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>University Woes</title><link>/stories/2019/01/20/university-woes/</link><pubDate>Sun, 20 Jan 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/01/20/university-woes/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="universitywoes.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h4 id="part-2-francescas-punishment"&gt;Part 2: Francesca’s Punishment&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“See you tomorrow, bye” said Francesca to her fellow canteen workers as they said their goodbyes at the end of another shift. Francesca began the short walk home. Across the car park. Past the supermarket. She passed the pharmacy. Two minutes later she crossed the road and entered an alley which would lead towards her flat. An alley she had entered many times without bother. But today she was met with a sudden pain in the back of her neck, as if something sharp had been stabbed into her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>University Woes</title><link>/stories/2019/01/09/university-woes/</link><pubDate>Wed, 09 Jan 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/01/09/university-woes/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="part-1-the-lost-mobile"&gt;Part 1: The Lost Mobile&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s nearly one o&amp;rsquo;clock, we should head back to the lecture hall.&amp;rdquo; said Pauline.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Agreed.&amp;rdquo; responded Nicola. The two girls lifted up their food trays and emptied what was left on them into one of the canteen bins. They made their way to the lecture hall and took their seats. Within minutes they were taking notes, listening to the drony voice of their lecturer for the afternoon, the least exciting one they had during each week. Thursday afternoons were rubbish here.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Porn Shoot</title><link>/stories/2018/11/08/the-porn-shoot/</link><pubDate>Thu, 08 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/11/08/the-porn-shoot/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;For the third month running Gemma was short on her rent and in desperate need of some money. Her part time job at the supermarket wasn&amp;rsquo;t enough to cover the bills, so Gemma often found herself acting in porn films to gain some extra money. She had been involved in nine films in the past so this idea was nothing new to her. In fairness the films paid her well, and it looked like she was going to have to find film number ten to get through her bills for the next few months.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tricked n discarded</title><link>/stories/2018/11/08/tricked-n-discarded/</link><pubDate>Thu, 08 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/11/08/tricked-n-discarded/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Elena walked out her apartment complex to go and put her two garbage bags in the dumpster around the back and unlocked the gate. When she got there she opened the lid and placed them inside and closed the lid.However, the lid did not close all the way down, she looked at the sign and it said, &amp;lsquo;Make sure lid is fully closed before leaving, even if it means standing on the bags&amp;rsquo;.So Elena then took the stool that was under the sign and went to stand on the bags to push them down. When she was stepping on them she found it quite enjoyable.
When she thought she was done she began to move her foot out of the dumpster but then she felt it start to rise so she quickly jumped out and turned around. Some of the bags started to fall out as it looked like the dumpster was coming alive.Elena was very slowly moving backwards as the dumpster she just put her garbage in magically grew arms, legs, a longer body and the lid became the mouth. Elena stood there in complete shock and awe as the dumpster grabbed the garbage bags that fell on the floor and threw them into it&amp;rsquo;s mouth like a monster eating humans. Elena quickly turned around and started to run but the dumpsters arm quickly lunged out and grabbed her. The dumpster brought her up to its mouth and looked at her.
Elena thought this was strange as she couldn&amp;rsquo;t see any eyes.Elena kept trying to break free but then all of a sudden the dumpster just threw her into its mouth and closed it. Elena then landed on some garbage bags, she then proceeded to stand up. However as soon as she stood up she could feel herself sinking into the garbage bags, she was falling rather slowly as she falling what seems to be a rather long way into the belly of the beast!!!
Elena quickly sat up in bed, startled and shocked.
Elena thought, &amp;lsquo;That was one hell of a dream!!!&amp;rsquo;
She turned around and saw that her clock said 8:46. She got out of bed and went into the shower and came out 10 minutes later. She got changed into her everyday clothes and rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. She went downstairs and then prepared some scrambled egg on toast. She couldn&amp;rsquo;t finish the last slice of bread so she stood up and walked over to the bin and opened the lid. She had forgotten that it was full to the brim as she forgot to take it out last night. She pushed it down enough to fit in the last slice of bread, she then took the lid off and pulled up the bag. As she tucks some of the bag around the bin, this meant there was some room for tying up the bag. She tied it up with a double knot and placed it on the floor while she went and lined the bin with another bag.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Disposed Of</title><link>/stories/2018/09/30/disposed-of/</link><pubDate>Sun, 30 Sep 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/09/30/disposed-of/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="disposedof2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3: Hell For Danielle&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thursday Evening&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Hours had passed since Danielle had been disposed of in the dumpster. There had been no sign of life since the lids slammed down on her. Danielle had finished work at 4pm, so it was very likely to be late evening now, and the cleaners had probably gone home. This meant she was going to have to gruel out all night inside this dumpster. The thought of such an idea nearly made Danielle sick. There wasn&amp;rsquo;t a large amount of trash alongside her, but what was there of it was stinking, mainly of poo and rotten food. There was no choice here, Danielle was going to have to wait until the morning for the cleaners to find her and help her out. She would have to sleep here tonight. Jennifer&amp;rsquo;s plan was a decent one but surely she hadn&amp;rsquo;t considered that Danielle would easily be found in here by the cleaners?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sarah in the Trash</title><link>/stories/2018/08/31/sarah-in-the-trash/</link><pubDate>Fri, 31 Aug 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/08/31/sarah-in-the-trash/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note: This story is a rewrite by the same author of &amp;ldquo;&lt;a href="../storieslr/ryantakesoutthetrash.html"&gt;Ryan Takes out the Trash&lt;/a&gt;&amp;rdquo; and posted by me after enjoying reading the other &lt;a href="https://www.deviantart.com/bishopberkley/gallery/57025793/Sarah-Stories"&gt;Sarah Stories&lt;/a&gt; on his DA Page.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sarah was in a rush. She&amp;rsquo;d spent too long putting on her make up as usual  - but she admitted to herself that she was looking pretty fantastic in her crisp white blouse, tight black skirt and high heeled shoes. She didn&amp;rsquo;t want to be late for work.
“Where’s that folder that was on the table?” she asked her nephew, Andrew, who was sitting on the sofa reading a comic. He had been staying with Auntie Sarah over the Easter holidays and his school didn’t start back until the following day. To be honest, she couldn’t wait for him to leave. He was a pretty unruly kid - a pain in the, well, the everywhere to be honest!
“That folder full of scrappy paper? I chucked it in the trash!” he smiled. Sarah nearly fainted.
“BUT THOSE PAPERS WERE IMPORTANT!!!!” she shouted – desperately worrying whether the bin men had arrived yet.
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Sarah. I was only trying to be helpful. You should be more careful what you leave lying around!” he said with a wounded expression.
Sarah tried to calm herself down and explained to Andrew that it was very important that they go and find her papers. Right Now. He explained to her that he&amp;rsquo;d bagged them up with the kitchen trash but he hadn&amp;rsquo;t been able to fit it in the household bin, so he&amp;rsquo;d taken it out into the alley and put it in a much larger dumpster. So Andrew led Sarah led out into the alley to show her, lifting the lid on a large, chest height, green container that appeared to be about half full of refuse.
&amp;ldquo;Somewhere in there…&amp;rdquo; he shrugged. she bit her lip and tried not to go into another rant. He had only tried to be helpful, after all. she asked him nicely if he minded trying to get the bin bag back out again. He wasn&amp;rsquo;t too keen on her suggestion.
“You can’t expect me go in there!” replied Andrew in disbelief. “It&amp;rsquo;s your stuff. You’ll have to do it!”
She supposed he was right. Her paperwork wasn’t going to find itself. she took a deep breath and grabbed the edge of the dumpster.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Disposed Of</title><link>/stories/2018/08/18/disposed-of/</link><pubDate>Sat, 18 Aug 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/08/18/disposed-of/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="disposedof.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: Preparing For Revenge&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Day After The Landfill Escape&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After saving Jennifer from her burial at the landfill site, Anita drove them back to her house. Unsurprisingly Anita allowed Jennifer immediate use of the shower. After a shower and a cup of hot chocolate Jennifer went straight to the spare room and crashed out, evidently exhausted from her trashy experience.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After a long lie in, Jennifer got out of bed the next morning and headed for the kitchen. There she found a note from Anita saying to help herself to some breakfast. Jennifer cooked up sausages and bacon and wolfed down her food. After all, she hadn&amp;rsquo;t eaten anything apart from trash for 4 days. After her breakfast, Jennifer laid herself down on the sofa. She began to think about her experience as a piece of garbage, and wondered how to go about gaining revenge on Danielle. Ideas came into her head seeing Danielle in various bins and dumpsters. She imagined Danielle tied up inside a black trash bag. Then Jennifer&amp;rsquo;s mind wandered to imagining herself throwing Danielle into a trash compactor. In her mind she pressed the start button and Danielle would be squished among the garbage inside as she pleaded for help and forgiveness. Jennifer couldn&amp;rsquo;t settle on any ideas though. She also had a fear that one wrong move could turn the tables and Danielle could once again be throwing Jennifer away, this time permanently. A new image appeared in her mind, one of Danielle tossing her in the compactor and pressing the dreaded start button. She could hear Danielle&amp;rsquo;s laughter as the compactor squashed Jennifer in amongst the trash. This ended up killing off Jennifer&amp;rsquo;s train of thought. Danielle was taller and stronger than her, and she was very capable of overpowering Jennifer.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/31/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Thu, 31 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/31/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger6.html"&gt;Part 6&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 7: Repulsion&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve drifted in a black abyss, seemingly vast and yet also dimensionless. Was this the afterlife, or was she still dreaming? It was too much to hope that there’d be anything after death for someone like her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She opened her eyes. They were sticky and at first, blurred. As her vision cleared, she could see through the crack of her eyelids, but what she saw didn’t make sense. She was trapped in a criss-cross web-work of dark strands, liquid light dripping off them and falling to an odd-looking floor with a stainless-steel drain in the middle of it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Disposed Of</title><link>/stories/2018/05/20/disposed-of/</link><pubDate>Sun, 20 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/20/disposed-of/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: Dumping Jennifer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jennifer had just finished clearing up the mess from last night&amp;rsquo;s party. It had been a good night, plenty of friends over, lots of music, some drunken games and a lovely finish involving her boyfriend Mike, who was at his best in bed last night. Mike had gone out early this morning though, leaving Jennifer to tidy up the house. Clear up done, Jennifer proceeded to straighten her blonde hair, apply a little bit of makeup and change her clothes. Eventually her phone rang. It was Mike.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Oops Wrong Bin</title><link>/stories/2018/01/24/oops-wrong-bin/</link><pubDate>Wed, 24 Jan 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/01/24/oops-wrong-bin/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="oopswrongbin.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oops Wrong Bin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;story continued from part one&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maybe I could convince my beautiful neighbour to just dump her garbage for good, the signs are there for sure. I just need to push things along gently I thought to myself. Hopefully soon she&amp;rsquo;ll allow me to join in with his trashing then I&amp;rsquo;ll be able to guage how to complete my plan.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I knew Lisa would be trashing him again soon so I decided to help her slightly with trashy pleasures for Stu. Lisa had mentioned her displeasure when she could still see him in the bottom of the industrial strength garbage sacks. So I emptied my fridge early in the week just to ensure everything I bagged was foul smelling and going bad. The weather was still warm it would heat up nicely in the large outside in the sun.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dumping A Love Rival</title><link>/stories/2018/01/03/dumping-a-love-rival/</link><pubDate>Wed, 03 Jan 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/01/03/dumping-a-love-rival/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Another day finished. Working as a manager in the top range fashion store in the city&amp;rsquo;s massive shopping mall, Erin was locking up at the end of the day. She was wearing her usual black leather jacket and leggings combo, her brown hair straightened out. She was beautiful and sexy. She began making her way through the mall when she spotted Ashleigh, one of the shopping mall cleaners. She was quite a plain girl, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, but still attractive. Ashleigh noticed Erin looking at her and grabbed her chance to speak with her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Saving Privates Ryann</title><link>/stories/2018/01/03/saving-privates-ryann/</link><pubDate>Wed, 03 Jan 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/01/03/saving-privates-ryann/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Being the TV remote is boring.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Wenona Hart recalled Ryann’s words as she checked the time. Transforming an adult woman into a fully functioning electronic device was no small task and she was rather impressed with herself, but if Ryann wanted to explore other options then Wenona was willing to make the effort. She turned her attention to the book in front of her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Reading ancient texts was always time consuming and great care was necessary, pronouncing one word wrong in a spell could mean the difference between a dog and a dinosaur. Wenona was about to go downstairs to the girl’s apartment and wanted to review a few more transformation spells, the roommate’s current interest.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Test Subjects Wanted</title><link>/stories/2017/12/13/test-subjects-wanted/</link><pubDate>Wed, 13 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/12/13/test-subjects-wanted/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The sign outside the office said. &amp;ldquo;Test Subjects Wanted.&amp;rdquo;  He looked nervously at the door, glancing up and down the street, seeing no one he knew, he turned the knob and entered.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The first thing David noticed was her blond short hair and glasses. She was sitting behind a desk, reading her People Magazine, obviously not interested in who just came through the door. David cleared his throat&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She looked up over the magazine and her glasses at him, &amp;quot; Yesss?&amp;quot; she said, clearly annoyed at being interrupted from her reading.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Pranked by my Boyfriend</title><link>/stories/2017/10/28/pranked-by-my-boyfriend/</link><pubDate>Sat, 28 Oct 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/10/28/pranked-by-my-boyfriend/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Trashgirl spent many a day dreaming of being dominated, her boyfriend Paul was only acutely aware of some of her darker desires. Although they had a very active sex life there was always something missing for trashgirl. She had became aware of trash play via gromet&amp;rsquo;s website and was more than an avid visitor.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She had read every story at least ten times concentrating on the bondage and disposal of many beautiful women. Many a night she had sneaked out of bed and away to the toilet, Paul slept peacefully as she pleasured herself quietly thinking of those strong black trash bags she had hidden away under the sink.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Origins of a SB life</title><link>/stories/2017/09/20/origins-of-a-sb-life/</link><pubDate>Wed, 20 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/09/20/origins-of-a-sb-life/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was a dark and stormy night… not really of course, but isn’t that the way all stories begin? I was actually with my parents while they helped organize a home after a death. I was twelve and possessed an atypical curiosity. So, while the men were picking up food and the women were in the house I explored the garage.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I found a box that had been well taped, but opened by the men, I think. The word “private” was written on top so I had to look! It was full of magazines with titles like men, detective, and adventure. I was shocked by the covers, but couldn’t stop looking. One in particular drew my attention. Two women were being tortured by German soldiers. The one in the background hung by her wrist while being whipped, but it was the one that took up the majority of the cover that fascinated me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Beginning</title><link>/stories/2017/09/04/my-beginning/</link><pubDate>Mon, 04 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/09/04/my-beginning/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Hi I’m Ali, I’m 21 and I’ve just finishing an apprenticeship (not going to say where or what I’m studying just in case someone figures out this is me). I’m 5ft 4 inches, I’m a skinny little redhead with very pale skin. Everyone calls me cute or adorable (it’s really annoying). And I love been restrained and tormented.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I think a little bit of back story is needed at this point. I discovered my fondness for BDSM whilst on a family holiday in France. It’s one of those holidays where your parents stuff you in the back of a small car with your siblings and drive hundreds of miles in blistering heat with no air con (torture – but not the good kind). So we drove through France, I had just turned 18 and on either side of me are my 2 bickering brothers aged 10 and 12 (don’t ask me why my parent waited so long between me and them).&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Trash Wife 3: Discovery &amp; Consequences</title><link>/stories/2017/08/16/the-trash-wife-3-discovery-consequences/</link><pubDate>Wed, 16 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/08/16/the-trash-wife-3-discovery-consequences/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="trashwife2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Trash Wife 2: My Reward&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3: Discovery &amp;amp; Consequences&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My husband and I continued to play my/our garbage fetish games, with me tightly bound, naked and bagged inside several garbage bags, with the household trash tossed inside with me, coating my naked body with all its gooey goodness. I have an objectification fetish and my husband indulges me when I want to be bound and bagged, stored and put away, usually out with the rest of the garbage. He seems to like the sight of me tightly bound, bagged and ready to use for his own sexual satisfaction.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Julie's Trash Time 3</title><link>/stories/2017/07/25/julies-trash-time-3/</link><pubDate>Tue, 25 Jul 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/07/25/julies-trash-time-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="juliestrashtime2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julie&amp;rsquo;s Trash Time 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Continues from &lt;a href="juliestrashtime2.html"&gt;part 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Julie finishes polishing the bathroom mirror, then brushes the hair out of her face with the back of her hand to admire her work. This is the last room, and just like the rest of the house it is now sparkling clean. Julie has been working all day scrubbing and cleaning the house top to bottom. She has done a week of chores in one day as a surprise for Audrey, and to give them more play time over the upcoming holiday.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Flat Party</title><link>/stories/2017/07/04/the-flat-party/</link><pubDate>Tue, 04 Jul 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/07/04/the-flat-party/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Lucy, a first year microbiology student, had organised a flat party at the weekend and the theme was beach party. It didn’t matter to anyone that it was the middle of winter, in fact that probably made it all the more fun, dressing up in beach wear, or bikinis and speedos if you were brave enough! 
It was one of her best parties ever; the beer, wine and cheap spirits flowed on and on. It was well into daylight the next morning before the party died and the guests had gone home. The mess left behind was too much to deal with when so wasted, so Lucy decided to leave it until she got up later on. She shared with two other girls but they were away staying with their boyfriends that weekend so the mess wouldn’t matter for a little while she figured.
That afternoon though they were due to have the fortnightly flat inspection by the complex caretaker, to make sure they weren’t wrecking the place and also for any routine maintenance or cleaning that was required. Lucy was passed out on the lounge sofa, gone to the world she was still only dressed in her skimpy bikini, which did little to hide her generous assets, in fact her large natural breasts had fallen out of her top during the night!
The caretaker, after ringing the doorbell a few times, let herself in with her master keys. As soon as she walked in she was hit with the smell of take-away food, cigarettes and booze. This was going to be one of those flats she silently thought to herself, why don’t these students grow up?
She checked around the hallway, empty pizza boxes, beer cans and glasses everywhere. Then she went to the bathrooms; the floors wet, she dared not think of what with, and the sinks blocked with sick. Surely this was the worst she had ever seen in her years, what sort of animals were these people?
The caretaker went to check out the rest of the flat, the bedrooms didn’t seem as bad but still not great either. It was when she got to the lounge she got the biggest shock, the room was an absolute tip. Glasses everywhere, dishes and pizza boxes on the floor, spilt ash trays, random stains and spillages. This would definitely eat into their deposit.
It was then she spotted Lucy, still asleep on the sofa, tits hanging out of her top. She watched her, her chest rising up and down, the drool dribbling from her mouth. She felt no pity for her, only disgust.
She picked up a glass of wine and poured it over the girl. Lucy moved her face to the side but still didn’t wake up. This infuriated the caretaker even more; a young girl shouldn’t get into this kind of state, unable to defend herself.
The caretaker went away and fetched some cleaning supplies, she didn’t enjoy cleaning up the flats but it was part of her duties and knew the students wouldn’t lift a finger to help. When she came back she spent hours cleaning the flat, the bags of trash piling up, the caretaker had cleaned the bathrooms and all the bedrooms, now all that was left was the kitchen and lounge.
The kitchen and lounge were more or less one open plan room, the first being tiled and the second being carpeted. The girl, Lucy, was still asleep. The caretaker couldn’t believe it, after all the racket she had made cleaning up around her. The caretaker looked the girl up and down. She was drooling again from her mouth, her tits hanging out of her top and&amp;hellip;. she looked like she had wet herself too! This girl really is trash. Well, it was time for her to be treated like trash!
The caretaker got an extra-large bin bag from her supplies and opened it up on the floor beside the girl. She pulled out several regular bags and tied the girl’s ankles, knees and wrists together. Looking down at the girl she was satisfied she was secure, but not gagged. It then hit her, the bikini bottoms!
She pulled on her gloves before untying the bikini bottoms; they were still wet and sticky. Carefully she manipulated the girl’s mouth open, slowly and gently pushing them into her mouth. Feeling that there was still a lot of space in her mouth, she needed something else. The bikini top was the obvious choice, close to hand and even more degrading for her to be totally naked. Unfastening her top she could help herself but to cup both breasts in her hands, to feel them and stroke them. She could see the nipples becoming erect. She never considered herself lesbian but she couldn’t help but find herself enjoying playing with this girl’s ample chest.
The girl let out a soft moan, the caretaker backed away a little. Standing still she waited until the girl settled again. Once satisfied she was the caretaker fashioned a ball gag out of another bin liner by tying one in a double knot in the middle, then pushed it into the girls mouth and tying it behind her head. The girls’ cheeks were bulging with her own wet bikini and the bin bag; there was no chance she’d be able to call out.
The caretaker lowered her feet first off the sofa into the bin bag; she folded the girl’s long soft legs under herself so that she was sat on them and then eased her body down forward. She pulled the bag up until it reached the girls shoulders, but then thought she needs to fill the bag up too, and the girl should be awake for this…
The caretaker slapped the girls in the face until she was wide awake, and sore! 
…..
Lucy’s head was pounding, her eyes couldn’t focus, and that taste in her mouth! She tried to stretch out, but she couldn’t move, her legs and arms seemed pinned together. She tried to think, to figure it out, it didn’t make any sense.
“Finally awake, you trashy bitch!!” The caretaker stood before Lucy, legs astride, hands on hips. God she looked pissed off! “A right bloody state you left this flat in, it’s taken me hours to get it straight again, all I have to do now is clean the living room and the kitchen, and I only have one bag left, yours!”
Lucy’s eyes went wide; surely she can’t be serious, could she? Her question was soon answered. The caretaker came towards her bag, “Such a waste, all this food, still it’s garbage now”, She opened Lucy’s bag and poured all the food in, a mixture of crisps, pasta, chicken drumsticks, sausage rolls, everything a good party should have. Lucy watched as it rained down on her, bouncing and sliding off her body before resting around her legs.
Then the caretaker brought over some drinks, open cans of beer and half-drunk bottles of wine. Holding them high she poured them over Lucy’s naked body, Lucy’s eyes looked up pleading for mercy, but none was given. Lucy’s body was soaked in booze, her hair plastered down onto her head and the mixture sloshed around her legs. The caretaker put the empties into the recycling boxes, which looked suspiciously very clean, like they had never been used before.
She looked around for what else to put in the bag, there were lots of old newspapers and magazines lying around which would do just fine. The caretaker gathered them up and one by one she scrunched up the papers, she pushed them into the bag all around the naked girl until they reached around her breasts. Lucy could feel the rough paper scraping against her soft skin, the jagged edges poking her nipples. She looked down and was shocked to see her nipples becoming erect! For all the humiliation her body was enjoying this&amp;hellip; treatment! The papers and food were slowly absorbing the liquids and becoming mushy all around her, she could feel it squelching in between her thighs.
The caretaker hadn’t finished yet though; she looked around for more to put in the bag.  She spotted a dirty laundry bag in the cupboard next to the kitchen; she pulled it up next to Lucy’s bag and start to empty the contents into the trash bag. T-shirts, shorts, pants &amp;amp; bras, they filled the bag up to Lucy’s face until the caretaker paused for a moment. The caretaker leaned down over her and pulled a stocking over her head, followed by another, and then another&amp;hellip;when she was done Lucy’s features were almost invisible under the layers of black nylon. The caretaker filled the rest of the bag and then unceremoniously pulled the sides together at the top and tied it together.
Inside Lucy had watched as the final layers had grown around her, she had tried to struggle but she was too tightly tied. She had tried to call out but all that had come out was a faint “mmnpph”, no-one would hear that. So she had resigned herself to watching the trash being dumped on her, she was starting to wish she had led a tidier less wasteful life. Now she had no choice but to join her own trash.
Her bag now full the caretaker pulled the drawstrings tight around her neck, tying the ends securely. Pulling the bag shut squeezed the trash tighter against her naked body; she felt less like a person and more like just another content of the bag, another piece of trash. 
The caretaker satisfied the flat was now back to being respectably clean she packed away all of her cleaning equipment, all that was left of the mess was a big pile of trash bags that needed to be disposed of…
She hadn’t really thought of it as she started but she had crossed a line there was no coming back from, she couldn’t let the girl go now, she’d blab and she would lose her job and most like end up with a criminal record. She had to finish the job, trash was trash and she needed to be treated and disposed of as such.
She dragged the bagged up girl out from the flat and along the corridor to the lift, once down to the ground level she pulled her out the back fire exit to where the complex skips were. The skips were kept together in a row at the back lower than the path so all you had to do was lift up the lid and drop your trash down. Rolling the bag of trash into the skip she barely gave it a second thought as it fell into the half empty void, a couple more trips and she had disposed of all the trash, only a few more flats to check and clean before I’m done for the week and can go off for the weekend!
Tbc…?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Ad seemed Innocent Enough</title><link>/stories/2017/05/04/the-ad-seemed-innocent-enough/</link><pubDate>Thu, 04 May 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/05/04/the-ad-seemed-innocent-enough/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The ad seemed innocent enough. She had been reading the want ads for some time now, seeking something different to do. Years at the same job had taken it’s toll, boredom, and a feeling of dread that came with every new day. This ad was different though. It caught her eye, and after dismissing it as either nonsense, or a joke of some kind, she kept going back to the same paper and rereading the circled advertisement.” if you are a bright, thin, attractive, highly adventurous and daring girl who sees herself as a fire engine red Ferrari rather than a blue mini van, and craves excitement beyond the usual, contact us at&amp;hellip;.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trip To The Chocolate Factory</title><link>/stories/2017/05/04/trip-to-the-chocolate-factory/</link><pubDate>Thu, 04 May 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/05/04/trip-to-the-chocolate-factory/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;After winning some tickets online, you were on a tour, with a couple of other people, going around a huge chocolate factory that was fully automated, even the robot tour guide that was now leading you past a large glass window looking down on the factory floor and you can see all the conveyors and tanks and machines, it looked like something out of HOP and you also notice an unlocked door next to the window and this tour was far too boring.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 5: David Screws Up</title><link>/stories/2017/04/27/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-5-david-screws-up/</link><pubDate>Thu, 27 Apr 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/04/27/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-5-david-screws-up/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="trashyadventuresofdavidchristine4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 4: Christine&amp;rsquo;s Party&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Book 5: David Screws Up&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;m not exactly sure what I&amp;rsquo;ve done. All I know is I&amp;rsquo;ve done SOMETHING to upset Christine. Cause, now, I find myself trapped, tied up in Jennifer&amp;rsquo;s now empty personal trash compactor. My mouth is free of a gag, mostly cause Christine knows I won&amp;rsquo;t call for help.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Not that it would do any good anyway.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Not Needed Any More</title><link>/stories/2017/04/02/not-needed-any-more/</link><pubDate>Sun, 02 Apr 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/04/02/not-needed-any-more/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;You woke up by the immense lights of the supermarket. You were inside a white plastic wrapper which contained your entire body and there was a transparent part of the plastic in front of your face so you could see a little bit. You were very confused for few minutes but then it all came back to you, how you have ended up in this situation.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It began when one day you were sleeping in your bed at home and someone came, woke you up by a slap and injected something to your neck. Long story short, you were kidnapped by a private company that sold human slaves. After one month of brainwashing you were transported to the supermarket, where you are to be sold to anyone who needed a home slave. They injected you with something that made you immobilized and slowed your metabolism so you could stay alive in that plastic for at least 14 days. You felt humiliated, you were nothing more than a product now.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Terms of Service</title><link>/stories/2017/02/10/terms-of-service/</link><pubDate>Fri, 10 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/02/10/terms-of-service/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Happy 18th birthday baby.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Oh Mom, it’s beautiful.” Jessie said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“My little girl is all grown up, blow the candles out Honey.” Dad said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jessie closes her eyes and blows out the candles. Mom cuts the cake while Dad answers the front door. He returns with an official looking letter, his sad face speaks the words he can’t say.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Not today, it can’t come today.” Jessie said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“They can’t even respect a girls birthday anymore?” Mom said.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Automart</title><link>/stories/2017/01/29/automart/</link><pubDate>Sun, 29 Jan 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/01/29/automart/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Note: This very short story was inspired by the Dec. 6, 2016 New York Post.
&lt;a href="https://twitter.com/nypost/status/806114238594957312"&gt;https://twitter.com/nypost/status/806114238594957312&lt;/a&gt;
Carrie is preparing to close the store for the night, well, she is watching the store’s automated systems preparing to close the store. After the last upgrade Carrie wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been fired, the system never has a major failure, it fixes its own minor issues. The supermarket cleans itself, stocks itself and opens and closes itself and answers customer questions by smart phone text all by itself. Her job has been reduced to watching the monitor.
No customers detected
Restocking and purchase orders complete
Preparing end of day reports
Carrie logs off the system before the diagnostic reboot, she is supposed to stay until the system comes back up and starts overnight cleaning operations but twenty minutes of pay isn’t worth hanging around for that. Carrie is grabbing her things when the whole place goes pitch black.
Power failure.
“Why aren’t the emergency lights on?” Carrie said as if the system was going to respond. Her knee slams into a server rack. “Owww, don’t worry about me, stupid piece of junk.”
Carrie finds the door and feels her way out of the office. She sees lights, thank goodness.
“Hey, over here, help.” Carrie said.
A figure approaches. The light strapped to his forehead makes him look like a shadow, but from his size Carrie can tell it’s a man. He grabs her, dragging her further into the dark store and toward the second figure.
“My shift is over, you don’t need me to work on the system.” Carrie said.
“We’re not fixing the place, we’re robbing the place.” The man holding Carrie said.
The second man turns his light on Carrie and the man behind her, she can see he is wearing a ski mask.
“You know there’s no money here, right?” Carrie said.
“There’s no money anywhere since automation, we’re forced to steal stuff.” He said.
“Well you don’t need me for that either.” Carrie said.
“Sorry Honey, but you’re staying right here.”
Carrie’s wrists are pulled behind her back and secured with plastic cuffs. Several strips of tape are pressed over her mouth and she is lowered to the floor, her ankles are cuffed.
“How much time do we have?”
“45 minutes before the power comes back on.”
The two men get to work rifling through shelves and filling plastic boxes on a push cart, and they’re not being neat about it, spilling food and trampling on containers all over the store.
Carrie tries to worm her way out of the bakery aisle toward the entrance and maybe get someone’s attention, but only manages to cover herself in flour, molasses and whatever else is on the floor before one of the men comes back.
He sees Carrie’s attempted escape, folds her legs and uses a cable tie to hogtie her, then tells her they’re off. Now she can only wait for the power to come back and the system to report the robbery.
After some time Carrie hears the snap of a breaker and the low hum of the computers powering up. It won’t be long now.
The system lost power at the start of the diagnostic routine and now displays a message on the terminal. This is where Carrie would recover full function of the system, if she were at the terminal and logged on. The system waits the preprogramed three minutes for input then sends a text to Carrie’s phone to respond to a system failure and initiates post-closing operation in safe mode.
Low level lighting comes on, just enough for sensors to scan the store and assess the cleanup required. The job begins by deploying the Spider, Self-Propelled Debris Remover. It looks more like a Hippo with its square shape and large maw. Traveling up and down the aisles, it uses its two arms to sweep trash into the front intake, depositing full trash bags out the back at the end of each aisle.
In the bakery aisle Carrie sees the machine coming but can’t get out of the way. The end of the arm moves past her then folds at the center like an elbow catching Carrie in the side and pushing her toward the intake where she is swallowed whole by the machine. Inside she is swept into a large plastic bag as more trash is heaped on top of her. When full her bag is tied and ejected from the back of the machine.
Soon the aisles are clear of trash and black plastic trash bags form a row along the dairy and meat section. Carrie struggles but the tight hogtie, sticky contents and the heavy plastic bag itself prevent much movement. She concentrates on creating breathing space.
An overhead trolley system collects the bags so floor scrubbers can be deployed. Carrie feels herself being lifted as her bag moves through the delivery room then drops into the dumpster outside. She knows she is in trouble and can’t understand why the police haven’t arrived. AI, that’s a joke.
Suddenly a loud bang and rumble echoes through the dumpster. Of course the truck is here. The sound of hydraulic pistons and the dumpster is lifted. Carrie feels her weight shifting, then she is falling into the back of a refuse truck.
She hears the dumpster hit the pavement, then the sound of hydraulics again as the driver compacts the load. Carrie is pushed around as the flour, sugar and other bakery debris in her bag is pressed into her. She wills the compactor to stop as it continues to press her into the trash. Her bag pops just as the piston stops and reverses. At least she can breathe easier.
More trash is added at each stop with the driver cycling the compactor every three or four loads. Fortunately they have all been at restaurants, though Carrie doesn’t feel very fortunate, she is pinned in a wall of plastic bags and smells fried chicken, fried beans and fried fish. She fights to not be sick.
Hydraulic pumps start and Carrie panics, she can’t take another compacting. This time the whole wall moves as the trash is ejected from the truck. Carrie falls from the back and tumbles down a mountain of bags and waste being tossed from her plastic prison in the process. Her hair is plastered with grease and food and she lost a shoe, but she lived through it.
The trucks have gone, only the sound of seagulls circling looking for a meal. Carrie can move a little, but getting back up that mountain of trash will be impossible. If she stays here she will surely be buried in trash tomorrow.
Carrie hears a faint sound, like someone crumpling plastic wrap in their hand. It’s getting louder. Footsteps. An old man bends down.
“You’re a girl, imagine that, I though these old eyes were fooling me again.”
He studies the situation then takes out a small pocket knife and cuts the hog tie and wrist cuffs. Carrie sits up and pulls the tape from her mouth, he hands her the knife to cut her ankles free.
“Is this one of those initiations?” He said.
“I got robbed.” Carrie said.
“Didn’t we all, I’ll be happy to share my wealth if you want to look around.” He said.
“Thanks, I’ll just look for my shoe.” Carrie said.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Automart</title><link>/stories/2017/01/29/automart/</link><pubDate>Sun, 29 Jan 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/01/29/automart/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Note: This very short story was inspired by the Dec. 6, 2016 New York Post.
&lt;a href="https://twitter.com/nypost/status/806114238594957312"&gt;https://twitter.com/nypost/status/806114238594957312&lt;/a&gt;
Carrie is preparing to close the store for the night, well, she is watching the store’s automated systems preparing to close the store. After the last upgrade Carrie wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been fired, the system never has a major failure, it fixes its own minor issues. The supermarket cleans itself, stocks itself and opens and closes itself and answers customer questions by smart phone text all by itself. Her job has been reduced to watching the monitor.
No customers detected
Restocking and purchase orders complete
Preparing end of day reports
Carrie logs off the system before the diagnostic reboot, she is supposed to stay until the system comes back up and starts overnight cleaning operations but twenty minutes of pay isn’t worth hanging around for that. Carrie is grabbing her things when the whole place goes pitch black.
Power failure.
“Why aren’t the emergency lights on?” Carrie said as if the system was going to respond. Her knee slams into a server rack. “Owww, don’t worry about me, stupid piece of junk.”
Carrie finds the door and feels her way out of the office. She sees lights, thank goodness.
“Hey, over here, help.” Carrie said.
A figure approaches. The light strapped to his forehead makes him look like a shadow, but from his size Carrie can tell it’s a man. He grabs her, dragging her further into the dark store and toward the second figure.
“My shift is over, you don’t need me to work on the system.” Carrie said.
“We’re not fixing the place, we’re robbing the place.” The man holding Carrie said.
The second man turns his light on Carrie and the man behind her, she can see he is wearing a ski mask.
“You know there’s no money here, right?” Carrie said.
“There’s no money anywhere since automation, we’re forced to steal stuff.” He said.
“Well you don’t need me for that either.” Carrie said.
“Sorry Honey, but you’re staying right here.”
Carrie’s wrists are pulled behind her back and secured with plastic cuffs. Several strips of tape are pressed over her mouth and she is lowered to the floor, her ankles are cuffed.
“How much time do we have?”
“45 minutes before the power comes back on.”
The two men get to work rifling through shelves and filling plastic boxes on a push cart, and they’re not being neat about it, spilling food and trampling on containers all over the store.
Carrie tries to worm her way out of the bakery aisle toward the entrance and maybe get someone’s attention, but only manages to cover herself in flour, molasses and whatever else is on the floor before one of the men comes back.
He sees Carrie’s attempted escape, folds her legs and uses a cable tie to hogtie her, then tells her they’re off. Now she can only wait for the power to come back and the system to report the robbery.
After some time Carrie hears the snap of a breaker and the low hum of the computers powering up. It won’t be long now.
The system lost power at the start of the diagnostic routine and now displays a message on the terminal. This is where Carrie would recover full function of the system, if she were at the terminal and logged on. The system waits the preprogramed three minutes for input then sends a text to Carrie’s phone to respond to a system failure and initiates post-closing operation in safe mode.
Low level lighting comes on, just enough for sensors to scan the store and assess the cleanup required. The job begins by deploying the Spider, Self-Propelled Debris Remover. It looks more like a Hippo with its square shape and large maw. Traveling up and down the aisles, it uses its two arms to sweep trash into the front intake, depositing full trash bags out the back at the end of each aisle.
In the bakery aisle Carrie sees the machine coming but can’t get out of the way. The end of the arm moves past her then folds at the center like an elbow catching Carrie in the side and pushing her toward the intake where she is swallowed whole by the machine. Inside she is swept into a large plastic bag as more trash is heaped on top of her. When full her bag is tied and ejected from the back of the machine.
Soon the aisles are clear of trash and black plastic trash bags form a row along the dairy and meat section. Carrie struggles but the tight hogtie, sticky contents and the heavy plastic bag itself prevent much movement. She concentrates on creating breathing space.
An overhead trolley system collects the bags so floor scrubbers can be deployed. Carrie feels herself being lifted as her bag moves through the delivery room then drops into the dumpster outside. She knows she is in trouble and can’t understand why the police haven’t arrived. AI, that’s a joke.
Suddenly a loud bang and rumble echoes through the dumpster. Of course the truck is here. The sound of hydraulic pistons and the dumpster is lifted. Carrie feels her weight shifting, then she is falling into the back of a refuse truck.
She hears the dumpster hit the pavement, then the sound of hydraulics again as the driver compacts the load. Carrie is pushed around as the flour, sugar and other bakery debris in her bag is pressed into her. She wills the compactor to stop as it continues to press her into the trash. Her bag pops just as the piston stops and reverses. At least she can breathe easier.
More trash is added at each stop with the driver cycling the compactor every three or four loads. Fortunately they have all been at restaurants, though Carrie doesn’t feel very fortunate, she is pinned in a wall of plastic bags and smells fried chicken, fried beans and fried fish. She fights to not be sick.
Hydraulic pumps start and Carrie panics, she can’t take another compacting. This time the whole wall moves as the trash is ejected from the truck. Carrie falls from the back and tumbles down a mountain of bags and waste being tossed from her plastic prison in the process. Her hair is plastered with grease and food and she lost a shoe, but she lived through it.
The trucks have gone, only the sound of seagulls circling looking for a meal. Carrie can move a little, but getting back up that mountain of trash will be impossible. If she stays here she will surely be buried in trash tomorrow.
Carrie hears a faint sound, like someone crumpling plastic wrap in their hand. It’s getting louder. Footsteps. An old man bends down.
“You’re a girl, imagine that, I though these old eyes were fooling me again.”
He studies the situation then takes out a small pocket knife and cuts the hog tie and wrist cuffs. Carrie sits up and pulls the tape from her mouth, he hands her the knife to cut her ankles free.
“Is this one of those initiations?” He said.
“I got robbed.” Carrie said.
“Didn’t we all, I’ll be happy to share my wealth if you want to look around.” He said.
“Thanks, I’ll just look for my shoe.” Carrie said.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trashed Interloper</title><link>/stories/2017/01/29/trashed-interloper/</link><pubDate>Sun, 29 Jan 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/01/29/trashed-interloper/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Carla knew transferring to a new school midway through the semester would be difficult to say the least. Friends have been made, relationships formed and she would be the outsider invading the sanctity of the foundations these bonds had been built. Not because it was her nature to subvert friendships and couplings; she preferred to remain at arm’s length from others and avoid the drama so many people her age seemed so eager to engage. It was her sheer attractiveness which always seemed to foster upheaval.
At the university she had previously been attending and subsequently transferred from; Carla had been accepted, if not entirely liked. Her ‘stand-offish’ disposition was often confused with snobbery and mightier-than-thou beliefs and misgivings. Carla was the furthest thing from being self-centered and conceited however. She simply believed that college was a place to gain an education and not for one big social gathering. It had been one of these latter which made her take her transcripts to a new school. She had invested too much and came too far to simply drop out.
As with almost every misfortunate situation, a number of seemingly unrelated commons converge to make an uncommon. An airplane doesn’t crash because it ran out of fuel; it crashes due to fuel no longer burning. Either a mechanical problem or a human factor or a mixture of the two would be the cause, not a matter of the tanks instantly becoming dry. A leak in the fuel lines, a miscalculation of refueling, frozen ice crystals trapping the fuel behind them at some bottle-neck; but not because the fuel simply decided to go on Hyades.
As the aircraft gets starved of fuel due to progression of failures, Carla’s rape was a coalescence of unrelated events with vector lines placing her at the point of intersection. The fact that there was a party going on in the dorm was not the cause. The fact that Vic was drunk wasn’t either. Nor was her room’s door not being fully latched or her lying in her bed studying wearing only her panties to blame. Carla was violated because Vic went to the party, got shit-faced and stumbled down the hall, bumping into her unlatched door, falling into her room causing her to jump and gasp, gaining his attention and noticed her scantily clad body in front of a soft mattress; putting the idea that he was horny in his mind. Had any one of the events in the progression not happened Carla would still be still be a virgin, her sanctity intact, and enrolled in the university she wished to attend.
To top it off and seal her decision to transfer, Carla was blamed for the football team losing its star quarterback… be-damned that he had violated her. “Shit happens!” Vic’s girlfriend told Carla, blaming her for her boyfriend’s arrest.
“New school… same bullshit.” Carla muddled to herself when her latest single-sided foe flipped her off and yelled; “Fuck you slut! Leave my guy alone cunt!” ‘Single-sided’ because Carla neither liked nor dislike Cheryl; and, as for her guy, Carla had never even said ‘Hi’ to him. Zach, had however, spoke to Carla—in the form of a cat-called “Hey baby!” as Cheryl scowled at her as if she made him or provoked him into doing it. The seeds of providence had been sown, fertilized, and watered thoroughly; merely awaiting to take root and breach the soil.
The final evolutionary alignment came as Carla walk from work towards her dorm across a dark, unlit lawn; she being alone, Cheryl not.
The attack was sudden, quick, and brutal. One of the girls shoved a rag into Carla’s mouth and wrapped several turns of duct tape around her head to hold it in place. At the same time, another was looping her wrists behind her back with rough, abrasive rope. Yet a third attacked her legs and bound her ankles tightly.
Carla was forced into a sitting position and more rope was used around her arms and chest, pinning her arms to her sides and bracketing her breasts above and below; the ends tied between her tits. Another strand cinched tightly around her lower belly and between her legs and around the hemp-rope belt at the small of her back. The loose ends of the crotch-rope knotted around her wrist bindings holding her hands pinned at the top of her ass. Carla’s legs were lashed above and below her knees; her legs pulled high behind her and tied by the ends of rope from between her breasts, over her shoulders and under the breast ropes just under her scapulas.
Carla had been trussed into a tight hogtie complete with an equally tight crotchrope forcing the denim crotch of her jeans deep into her cleave and a rope binding around her chest tight enough to make breathing difficult and her tits hurt.
“Don’t litter… put trash in its place.” One of her attackers said as they heft her and swept Carla away.
The large blue-painted steel dumpster they chose to put Carla in served a day-care facility which catered to college-enrolled mothers.
“Baby’s should smell like babies.” Cheryl said as Carla was rolled from the metal lip and into a soft, but smelly, bed of shit and piss soiled diapers. Her fall broke several liners open, exposing her to the liberated and foul disposables. Struggling for her freedom only sunk Carla deeper into them.
Sometime later; being no closer to gaining her freedom than she had only minutes after being bound; Carla heard the engine of the disposal truck close in on her, the dumpster bumped and lifted; spilling her and the shit-encrusted, piss-soaked discards in with bags of household waste.
Just before the huge Caterpillar D-9 covered her limp and seemingly lifeless body, the operator seen her and checked Carla for signs of life. Carla was rushed to the Hospital and not the County Morgue.
ElectroPainLover&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fetish World</title><link>/stories/2016/11/05/fetish-world/</link><pubDate>Sat, 05 Nov 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/11/05/fetish-world/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s time.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Coming.&amp;rdquo; Slipping into the jacket of her smart business suit, Trish glanced at the mirror and smiled. Not bad, she thought. Not bad at all. Only three weeks until her fortieth birthday, and she could still turn heads. Still smiling, she turned and left her office.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Ok, Gina, let&amp;rsquo;s go.&amp;rdquo; Nodding, her assistant fell in beside her. &amp;ldquo;Everything in place?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Pretty much,&amp;rdquo; Gina replied, eyes never lifting from the pad she carried in one hand. How, Trish wondered, can she do that all day without walking into things? &amp;ldquo;We did have one no-show at the Worm Race, but one of the instructors from the Wrap Academy offered to fill in, so we&amp;rsquo;re good.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Free Shipping</title><link>/stories/2016/10/12/free-shipping/</link><pubDate>Wed, 12 Oct 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/10/12/free-shipping/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“One more day and we’re on vacation, I can’t wait to leave.” Vicky said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I can’t wait to get there, traveling with you is no vacation.” Kelly said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I didn’t complain last year.” Vicky said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“You did get a little ruffled in the hotel.” Kelly said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I could have gone to lunch, that was just mean.” Vicky said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“So will you be traveling as luggage again? I’ll bring my lumbar belt this time.” Kelly said.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Afterparty</title><link>/stories/2016/07/10/afterparty/</link><pubDate>Sun, 10 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/07/10/afterparty/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;When the party at the university broke up, Laura realized she was in trouble. She had had fun - some drinks, but she wasn&amp;rsquo;t drunk. She had been dancing, had been kissing a few, but now the party was over and everybody was heading home.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was late - too late. To get home she would need the train, but to get to the train station, she had planned to go by bus. And by now the bus had ceased driving for the night. She could get a cab, but her finances didn&amp;rsquo;t allow this. She had a pass-card for public transportation, allowing her to go whenever she wanted. But of course within the regular hours of the transportation.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Messing up the Public Office</title><link>/stories/2016/07/02/messing-up-the-public-office/</link><pubDate>Sat, 02 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/07/02/messing-up-the-public-office/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Prelude&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;That bitch really should have her ass kicked,&amp;rdquo; Peter exclaimed loudly. His friends slowly nodded while sipping their beer. The fact that Peter had been loud really didn&amp;rsquo;t mean a lot. First they were seated round their regular table at the regular, noisy pub, secondly everybody around would agree with Peter.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The particular bitch was a civil servant. A rather young and good looking girl, who was the mayors spokesman. She did an excellent job, using her pretty face to smoothen out the most outrageous political cracks, but this time the task had been too tough. The core issue was the renegotiation of the trashworkers settlement with the local community. The community had refused any of the workers requirements and the workers had started a working confict - leaving all but medical trash.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Customer Service</title><link>/stories/2016/04/30/customer-service/</link><pubDate>Sat, 30 Apr 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/04/30/customer-service/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It would be an understatement to say that Ashley was not very fond of Tiffany. The two grew up in the same neighborhood and thus went to the same schools. Growing up, Tiffany had a habit of getting Ashley in trouble for things that Tiffany herself had done. As if that wasn&amp;rsquo;t bad enough, Tiffany often ridiculed Ashley and chose her to be the target of her practical jokes. It didn&amp;rsquo;t end when the girls graduated from high school. Through an unfortunate twist of fate they ended up attending the same college. Things did not improve there - Tiffany was as mean to Ashley at college as she had been in school.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Naked Night Walk</title><link>/stories/2016/04/30/naked-night-walk/</link><pubDate>Sat, 30 Apr 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/04/30/naked-night-walk/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;For a while, my wife and I lived in a small cottage out in the countryside, surrounded by fields normally inhabited by cows; nice if you didn&amp;rsquo;t have to drive anywhere, but around 10 miles for a pint of milk (even when surrounded by cows) meant it wasn&amp;rsquo;t the easiest of places to live.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My wife worked quite a bit in mainland Europe, being away for days at a time, sometimes even a couple of weeks, which meant if I took a few days off from work, or worked from home, I could indulge in my favourite lone pastime, my &amp;ldquo;me time&amp;rdquo; as it is.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Forbidden Tablets</title><link>/stories/2016/03/20/the-forbidden-tablets/</link><pubDate>Sun, 20 Mar 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/03/20/the-forbidden-tablets/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Historical, Fantasy, Non-consensual, Public Nudity, Flogging, Public Humiliation, Public Sex&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
A young princess gets to proclaim a traitor’s punishment.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In ancient Arabia, intrigue and betrayal in a tribe ruled by women leads to a severe, but very erotic, punishment.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Author’s note: The Thamud were a real tribe in Ancient Arabia. No one knows why they disappeared around the time of the rise of Islam. Some say it was because they were Matriarchal in an ever more Patriarchal society. Oral tradition says they were wiped out by the lava flow and dust from a volcano. No one knows. And this story of ancient tablets which tell their story is fiction&amp;hellip; for now.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mean Girls</title><link>/stories/2016/02/16/mean-girls/</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Feb 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/02/16/mean-girls/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Julie was finishing putting up the volleyball team equipment when she heard the locker room door open and close and the sound of a large 80 gallon trash can on wheels being rolled into the locker room. She figured it was just the custodial staff as she goes over to her locker to get her stuff so she can leave. As she turns the corner there is Lacy and four other member of the cross country team standing next to her locker with the large trash can. There had always been some rivalry between the two teams. Julie nor the rest of her team never liked them as they were always breaking rules and somehow never seem to get caught. However Julie had tipped the administration off about their drinking parties and they ultimately got caught. Julie had no regrets about this either.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mean Girls</title><link>/stories/2016/02/16/mean-girls/</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Feb 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/02/16/mean-girls/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Julie was finishing putting up the volleyball team equipment when she heard the locker room door open and close and the sound of a large 80 gallon trash can on wheels being rolled into the locker room. She figured it was just the custodial staff as she goes over to her locker to get her stuff so she can leave. As she turns the corner there is Lacy and four other member of the cross country team standing next to her locker with the large trash can. There had always been some rivalry between the two teams. Julie nor the rest of her team never liked them as they were always breaking rules and somehow never seem to get caught. However Julie had tipped the administration off about their drinking parties and they ultimately got caught. Julie had no regrets about this either.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trashed at School 2</title><link>/stories/2016/01/26/trashed-at-school-2/</link><pubDate>Tue, 26 Jan 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/01/26/trashed-at-school-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="trashedatschool.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trashed at School&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="trashedatschool2.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I became more and more preoccupied about the experience. What was it? On its face it was humiliating and disgusting, but somehow thinking about it made my heart race. I longed to experience it again. I fantasized about how to make the most of it. I’d do it differently. How could I? Would they give me the same punishment?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Maze</title><link>/stories/2015/10/30/the-maze/</link><pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/10/30/the-maze/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Maze
Light slowly filled James&amp;rsquo;s blurred and hazily eyes as feeling returned to his body. He was laying on a dirty and hard concrete floor with a banging headache and sore muscles. His skin was wet and itchy is if he was wearing something odd. What the hell had happened to him last night. He struggled to sit upright and waited to have a look around. The whole room was made from concrete and had water marks running down the walls. It looked like something out of a horror film as his heart started racing. His eyes whipped round the room and then he saw them. Two jet black figures laying on the ground. They looked alive as he saw their chests going up and down. They looked like a man and a women. Their skin was shinning and black, had they been painted.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Taking Chances</title><link>/stories/2015/10/04/taking-chances/</link><pubDate>Sun, 04 Oct 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/10/04/taking-chances/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Stacy had a love for being bound and put inside a trash bag. She loved it so much that she would often have her husband bag her up, place her in the large trash can and put her out on the curb the night before with the rest of the garbage. He would leave her to her fantasies and then in the morning, before going to work, pull her out and bring her back inside, release her from the bag and they would continue on as usual.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>What About Dee?</title><link>/stories/2015/09/26/what-about-dee/</link><pubDate>Sat, 26 Sep 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/09/26/what-about-dee/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;They’d polished off 2 bottles of wine with dinner and a blunt of primo for dessert, the four friends now sat around the patio table talking rather loudly about their sexual exploits.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Lyla spun the empty and it pointed at Dee, “Ohhh truth or dare!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Dee rolled her eyes and answered, “Truth.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Some sexual fantasy you’ve not told anyone here about before,” Lyla smirked.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Fuck you,” Dee felt the trap closing. Lyla knew most everything she’d done with Charlie. Charlie was here next to her, so she couldn’t say something he knew about. It had to be something she felt ashamed to admit to. “Dare, then.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sticky Dream</title><link>/stories/2015/09/19/sticky-dream/</link><pubDate>Sat, 19 Sep 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/09/19/sticky-dream/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I’ve always found dreams to be an interesting thing. They creep up on you when you least expect them, whether it be in the dead of night or the clear of day. You never know what they’ll be about, who they’ll be about, or even if they’ll involve you at all. To me, the most interesting thing about dreams is the ambiguity; the blur between fantasy and real life. Some dreams can be so detached from reality it’s obvious at first glance, but it feels so real, you start to believe that it is until you wake up and realize things are the same as they’ve always been. The rare cases where the ambiguity seeps over into those waking moments, making you wonder if your dream was real all along, even if you don’t care if it was… Those are my favorite kinds of ambiguous dreams. I should know. I’ve experienced one of those very dreams myself. In fact, that dream was, to this day, the best dream I’ve ever had.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sticky Dream</title><link>/stories/2015/09/19/sticky-dream/</link><pubDate>Sat, 19 Sep 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/09/19/sticky-dream/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I’ve always found dreams to be an interesting thing. They creep up on you when you least expect them, whether it be in the dead of night or the clear of day. You never know what they’ll be about, who they’ll be about, or even if they’ll involve you at all. To me, the most interesting thing about dreams is the ambiguity; the blur between fantasy and real life. Some dreams can be so detached from reality it’s obvious at first glance, but it feels so real, you start to believe that it is until you wake up and realize things are the same as they’ve always been. The rare cases where the ambiguity seeps over into those waking moments, making you wonder if your dream was real all along, even if you don’t care if it was… Those are my favorite kinds of ambiguous dreams. I should know. I’ve experienced one of those very dreams myself. In fact, that dream was, to this day, the best dream I’ve ever had.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Round and Round</title><link>/stories/2015/04/18/round-and-round/</link><pubDate>Sat, 18 Apr 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/04/18/round-and-round/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Tammy is the author of &lt;a href="../storiessz/talesofgreenvalley1.html"&gt;Tales of the Green Valley&lt;/a&gt; series.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This is an account of a True and recent experience (April 11-13, 2015) I thought I had planned well and got in a lot deeper than I expected. Another lesson in why this type of play should remain as fantasy and is NOT for solo play, have a partner/rescue plan if you consider doing this. Better yet, DON’T! I was interested in experiencing part of what Betsy did in story &lt;a href="../storiessz/talesofgreenvalley17.html"&gt;# 17: New to the Game&lt;/a&gt; and this is what happened. Maybe this true story will help prevent a bad mistake by someone new to this.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tales of Green Valley</title><link>/stories/2015/03/09/tales-of-green-valley/</link><pubDate>Mon, 09 Mar 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/03/09/tales-of-green-valley/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(Previous Green Valley Tale: &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley16.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley 16: Surprise Party, the Aftermath&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley # 17: New to the Game&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Mary Johnson was cleaning her apartment. Her soon to be ex had moved out and she had lots of his old crap to get rid of. He had taken what he wanted, including her virginity all those years ago, and left to go live with his new girl. Mary was 38, in great shape, but she had discovered her husband preferred the barely legal college girls in their town. His new girl was an 18 year old freshman drama student who just loved to act like his she was his 13 year old babygirl who was being taught about sex by her “Daddy”.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Prey 2: Dehumanize</title><link>/stories/2015/01/08/the-prey-2-dehumanize/</link><pubDate>Thu, 08 Jan 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/01/08/the-prey-2-dehumanize/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="the_prey.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: Dehumanize&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Emily was 61 hours into her very long prison sentence and was not in a good way. As the camera in her cell zooms slowly into her latex skunk mask, it had sweat dripping from under the hood. The guard controlling the camera was laughing away to himself at the sight of this poor latex girl. He knew she would be upgraded to maximum security in the morning. But only if she was broken in both mind and body.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Marissa's Bad Decision</title><link>/stories/2014/10/13/marissas-bad-decision/</link><pubDate>Mon, 13 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/10/13/marissas-bad-decision/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Now remember, don&amp;rsquo;t do anything crazy while we are gone!&amp;rdquo; Said Mary as she and her husband Don headed for the door.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I already told you I&amp;rsquo;m
sleeping over at a friends house tonight&amp;rdquo; replied their daughter, Marissa.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The door closed as Mary and Don left. She had the whole house to
herself for now. She had lied to her parents, but it wasn&amp;rsquo;t a big deal, because she wasn&amp;rsquo;t going to cause any trouble. Marissa had just wanted to
tie herself up in the garbage and experience what it is like to truly be garbage.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Littering is a Crime</title><link>/stories/2014/09/17/littering-is-a-crime/</link><pubDate>Wed, 17 Sep 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/09/17/littering-is-a-crime/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Shyanne looked up at the judge in disbelief. She had just been sentenced to &amp;lsquo;community service&amp;rsquo; which meant that she would be kept in a large public trashcan for a week. The punishment was for littering, If she littered she would be littered upon. 
Her parents broke down in tears as the judge gave the sentence. Their beautiful daughter didn&amp;rsquo;t deserve to be treated like trash. It was a simple mistake, throwing a cigarette butt on the sidewalk. Unfortunately the judge despised smoking and gave her a harsh sentence. A tearful Shyanne was quickly taken by police from the courtroom to their squad car and then to the mall, where she would be kept in a large trash can.
The two police men were laughing and joking around as they tied Shyanne into a ball. It was pretty common for them to throw girls away since the new law had been passed. Curiously though, most men that were caught littering got away with a slap on the wrist.
Shyanne had to admit though, in the back of her mind she was sort of excited. She had always wanted to be treated like an object and now would be her chance. She quickly dispelled these thoughts and continued crying. She was carried by the police men to the middle of the mall next to a pillar where the large trash can was sitting. Most of her family and even a few other bystanders were watching. Her family was giving encouragement and expressing sorrow. &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;ll be okay, It&amp;rsquo;ll only for a week, Be strong and you will make it&amp;rdquo;. One said. Another said, &amp;ldquo;I love you and I&amp;rsquo;m sorry you don&amp;rsquo;t deserve this&amp;rdquo;. Some of the bystanders took out their phones and started recording. It was a very embarrassing time for Shyanne.
Shyanne was naked and tied up to the point that she couldn&amp;rsquo;t move when the police officers picked her up and slid her into the trashcan. She slipped down feeling the cool plastic on her skin as she sunk to the bottom. There was hardly anything in the trashcan because it had just been emptied. Her crying continued as she watched the swing lid come over her and then she heard a click as they padlocked the lid onto the can. She was really stuck now, she was just garbage now for a week. For whatever reason through her tears she felt an excitement building inside her, although she tried to suppress it.
It wasn&amp;rsquo;t long before most of the bystanders dispersed. Some of her relatives dispersed but some stayed and talked to her through the can. She couldn&amp;rsquo;t reply back because of the gag in her mouth, though. Her father hugged the can and pressed his tear filled face against it and expressed his sorrow over the situation. It was at this moment that the first person came up to the trashcan, ignoring the crazy crying man that was hugging the can, and threw his half eaten ice cream cone into the garbage. Shyanne saw light briefly as the swing door came open and she felt something cold suddenly as the ice cream hit her skin. She had an involuntary orgasm when this happened. Nobody noticed but she still turned bright red and felt very embarrassed.
Eventually all her relatives left except her mother, who sat next to the garbage can in a chair as if looking out for her daughter. Her mother watched as many people came by to get rid of their trash. She watched as they threw trash onto her daughter. When they did this she would protest and tell them that that her beautiful daughter was in there. Her mother reluctantly left though after the security guard escorted her out for &amp;lsquo;disruption&amp;rsquo;.
Most of the mall had closed at this point so Shyanne was left alone. She had stopped crying and accepted that she was just trash for the week. She had started to get stiff and hoped that she could make it for 6 more days. 
The next day came along and people started to fill the halls. For some reason Shyanne had another involuntary orgasm last night when the janitor opened the garbage, looked down at her, ignored her, and pulled the bag out. The janitor then put the bag on the floor and crushed the trash down as much as he could. Shyanne, then in the afterglow of an amazing orgasm, felt herself get stuffed back into the can and locked in. To the janitor it was just trash.
Throughout day 2 Shyanne cried periodically and had plenty of orgasms that she despised having. She tried to deny her sexual feelings for objectification but she was losing the fight. Throughout the day all sorts of trash piled up around her. In the morning mostly coffee and cups were thrown on her with the occasional paper plate or half eaten food item. Sometimes she would have boxes shoved onto her which sometimes hurt. From afternoon to evening she would have food thrown on her and candy wrappers, plastic bottles, paper products and just about every trash item she could think of. 
Day 3 &amp;amp; 4 went about the same. The trash in her bag was now packed tightly around her from the janitor packing it at night. The only eventful thing that happened to Shyanne during these days was when a man peed into the can because of a dare from his friends. Although disgusting Shyanne drank it because it was hard for her to get a drink in the trashcan. Her parents came around frequently to comfort her throughout her ordeal. On one occasion her father accidentally spilled ink on his shirt. He was playing with a pen and it exploded. &amp;ldquo;Ah crap this was my favorite shirt&amp;rdquo;. he raged.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Garbage Collection Delay</title><link>/stories/2014/09/09/garbage-collection-delay/</link><pubDate>Tue, 09 Sep 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/09/09/garbage-collection-delay/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Note: This story has a good and a bad ending.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Katie looked out the window with lust at the big pile of garbage that had accumulated in the middle of the cul-de-sac . &amp;ldquo;They said that they won&amp;rsquo;t be able to collect the trash for another few weeks,&amp;rdquo; Said Ron, her husband. &amp;ldquo;That gives us plenty of time to let you play in that big pile of garbage, if you want&amp;rdquo;. Ron said to Katie.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cuckold Garbage</title><link>/stories/2014/09/02/cuckold-garbage/</link><pubDate>Tue, 02 Sep 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/09/02/cuckold-garbage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Laura is a young girl that lives in an apartment with her boyfriend, Zachary. They love each other and are very sexually compatible. Laura knew of
Zach&amp;rsquo;s trash fetish and she tried her best to make him happy. Laura usually wasn&amp;rsquo;t too interested in bagging her boyfriend but did it anyways
because they would usually have great sex afterward. Mostly it was just bagging for a few hours before he was released.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Useless Daughter</title><link>/stories/2014/08/25/useless-daughter/</link><pubDate>Mon, 25 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/08/25/useless-daughter/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Lily&amp;rsquo;s parents had finally had enough. They had given their daughter plenty of time to get her life together and do something. Just after turning 18 and finishing highschool Lily had turned into a lazy bum. She &amp;rsquo;tried&amp;rsquo; to get a job and wasn&amp;rsquo;t able to get a boyfriend. It wasn&amp;rsquo;t that she was unattractive, it was just that she was lazy. She had become useless so finally her parents had decided to draw a line. They told Lily when she turned 20 that if she didn&amp;rsquo;t get a job, move out, or do something with her life then they would get rid of her, Of course Lily didn&amp;rsquo;t take her parents seriously.
Lily&amp;rsquo;s parents Vicki and Lonny were having a big party this weekend but before they could have the party they decided it was time to get rid of their now 21 year old daughter. Friday evening Lonny came home from work with a large garbage can in the back of his truck. He quietly moved it to the front door before entering the house to find the family gathered in front of the TV. Lonny tapped Lily on the shoulder and asked her to come to her room for a talk. 
When in the room her father solemnly informed her that he planned to throw her away tonight. Lily immediately ran to her bed and buried her face in her pillow in tears. Lonny wasn&amp;rsquo;t good with words and never was, his attempts to get her up to follow him to the kitchen failed miserably. &amp;ldquo;We&amp;rsquo;ve given you chance after chance to do something with your life. You had a responsibility to yourself and your family to do something productive. Now your opportunity is gone and the only thing you can do to make up for your uselessness is to follow me to the kitchen so that we can get you in the garbage can!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Taylor's New Job</title><link>/stories/2014/08/02/taylors-new-job/</link><pubDate>Sat, 02 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/08/02/taylors-new-job/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Taylor couldn’t hide her excitement if she wanted to. A local resort was opening up and the whisper was that there would be a very big fetish component. As if that wasn’t enough, they were advertising for staff and she had an interview today.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At 168cm, Taylor was one of those women whose legs just seemed to go on forever. A brunette with piercing green eyes and a curvy figure that caught people’s attention the instant she entered their peripheral vision. Yes, she knew she was beautiful and she was 100% sub.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Silent Pain 3</title><link>/stories/2014/08/01/silent-pain-3/</link><pubDate>Fri, 01 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/08/01/silent-pain-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="silentpain2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Aprils&amp;rsquo; bitchsuit squeaked as she made her way over to the machine. Her freedom was right in front of her rubber doggy face. She was breathing heavily through said bondage hood as her eyes forced on the box like release. The outside of her dogsuit was covered in mud and water was dropping off of it. She was just as wet on the inside of the rubber suit. The suit was filled with piss, sweat and her pussy juices. Her muscles where crying out for a rest. Her elbows and knees where on fire from all the walking. She finally made it to the release system and tried to work out what she needed to do.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Silent Pain 3</title><link>/stories/2014/08/01/silent-pain-3/</link><pubDate>Fri, 01 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/08/01/silent-pain-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="silentpain2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Aprils&amp;rsquo; bitchsuit squeaked as she made her way over to the machine. Her freedom was right in front of her rubber doggy face. She was breathing heavily through said bondage hood as her eyes forced on the box like release. The outside of her dogsuit was covered in mud and water was dropping off of it. She was just as wet on the inside of the rubber suit. The suit was filled with piss, sweat and her pussy juices. Her muscles where crying out for a rest. Her elbows and knees where on fire from all the walking. She finally made it to the release system and tried to work out what she needed to do.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>School for Lesbian Subs</title><link>/stories/2014/07/18/school-for-lesbian-subs/</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/07/18/school-for-lesbian-subs/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="schoolforlesbiansubs.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;School for Lesbian Subs&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We emerged from the stall and stopped.
Mistress Tania was standing before us, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘What kept you?’&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She seemed to notice the moisture around Emma’s lips and then smiled, ‘ahh, I see. Put her with the others and then wait for me.’&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Emma lead me around to the back of the stable to a waist high rail where all the others were tied, bent over.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The New Weekend</title><link>/stories/2014/07/12/the-new-weekend/</link><pubDate>Sat, 12 Jul 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/07/12/the-new-weekend/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: Cleansing Friday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;You sure you don&amp;rsquo;t want to go with us?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Mom, the doctor said no foreign foods for the next couple of weeks. I&amp;rsquo;ll be damned even if I eat the normal food that we eat at home.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I still think that one of us should stay and help you out.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m a big girl now. Actually, a woman.&amp;rdquo; I tried to make that clear.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;They both took one solid stare at me. Investigating my body. Never had I felt so violated by my parents until now. It&amp;rsquo;s as if they peered deep into my soul and knew my intent of the upcoming weekend. Mom squinted her eyes and scrunched her lips leftward. Yes, her left.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ministry of Bondage</title><link>/stories/2014/07/10/ministry-of-bondage/</link><pubDate>Thu, 10 Jul 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/07/10/ministry-of-bondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Nobody was really sure how it had happened, but, a former professional dominatrix had been elected as the Prime Minister. Foul play was suspected but, never proven. There was an initial outcry and protests were held all over the country, but, it soon became clear that she was actually doing a decent job and so the protests ran out of steam and those who had voiced their discontent turned their attentions to more pressing matters.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cleaning the Room</title><link>/stories/2014/07/06/cleaning-the-room/</link><pubDate>Sun, 06 Jul 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/07/06/cleaning-the-room/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Girls, you need to clean up your room!” Mom shouted to Beth, Julie and Stacy. “I’m not going to let you go out with your friends until that mess is cleaned up. I have some errands to run so Julie is in charge.” Julie and Beth were older than me, but we shared a fairly large room. We knew the room was messy so we figured we had better start doing some cleaning. Mom had left a box of large trash bags for us to clean up the mess.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Date</title><link>/stories/2014/04/28/the-date/</link><pubDate>Mon, 28 Apr 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/04/28/the-date/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was a nice evening and after a nice bath I sat at my makeup mirror and was brushing my hair. Out of the corners of my eyes I saw the door to our bedroom swung open and you came in. As usual you stepped behind me and placed your hands on my shoulders. I smiled up to your image in the mirror, seeing you glancing down to me. While I continued to brush my hair you lent down a little to inhale the fresh scent of my hair.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Therapy</title><link>/stories/2014/04/28/therapy/</link><pubDate>Mon, 28 Apr 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/04/28/therapy/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It got worse. After reading a few stories about my fantasy, it got wild. By that time it was occupying my mind more often than it should be. Sure it was a hot fantasy, it made me always wet and so on, but I thought it was time to give it a break. But how? Talking with my family about it? No! Talking with my friends about it? Also no! So what should I do?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Marie's Plaything</title><link>/stories/2013/12/31/maries-plaything/</link><pubDate>Tue, 31 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/12/31/maries-plaything/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It all started when my wife Marie looked over my shoulder at the computer screen, asking “What’s that you’re looking at?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Startled by her creeping up on me, I didn’t know that she was there until she spoke; it was too late to deny what I was reading on the computer. “It’s just some stories.” I replied, hoping that she would leave me and not delve any further.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The site in question was a giantess stories site, I love reading the stories on there and get quite turned on by some of the action in some of the stories, I have several favourites that I daydream or fantasise about. But it’s not something I’d ever shared with anyone let alone my wife.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Scary Thirty</title><link>/stories/2013/12/19/scary-thirty/</link><pubDate>Thu, 19 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/12/19/scary-thirty/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This is by way of an introduction to my work. Specializing in all aspects of B.D.S.M, Self/bondage, Fem/Dom and all its facets, with some Pony Play &amp;amp; spanking thrown in for entertainment at times, all told in I hope a good rollicking good story. Current book titles published by Pink flamingo: Madam in Attendance, (a personal diary). Chloe&amp;amp; Me, A New Life. Also, The Erotic adventures of a 20th Century Lady, by Penelope Drops, (Female Domination). Out now &amp;amp; new is : The College.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Finding the Right Trash Mistress 5</title><link>/stories/2013/10/19/finding-the-right-trash-mistress-5/</link><pubDate>Sat, 19 Oct 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/10/19/finding-the-right-trash-mistress-5/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="findingtherighttrashmistress4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finding the Right Trash Mistress 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Hello there slaves wetting themselves over my slaves stories. I am Mistress Monique&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;My slave is a bit tied up being compacted right now, so I thought that it would be only fitting to tell my side of this wonderful arrangement!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Oh this part excites me the most, the compactor is crushing all the black bags flat into the bin behind my slave, Oh watching the force of the blade pushing my slave deep into the bin to be trashed for two days till we get him out, but as far as he knows he is going for a ride to the landfill permanently! OH I do enjoy tormenting his little mind!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Kidnapped: The Disposal</title><link>/stories/2013/08/08/kidnapped-the-disposal/</link><pubDate>Thu, 08 Aug 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/08/08/kidnapped-the-disposal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;One day as I was on my way to work, I saw a cargo van go by once and then turn at the end of the block. I thought nothing of it at first. As I kept walking down the sidewalk, I saw the same van again. “Maybe he is looking for an address or something,” I thought to myself. The van turned at the end of the block again, this time it turned right instead of left. I thought nothing of it really, because they weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Then as I neared the end of the block, I saw the van again. It turned right in front of me then stopped. The sliding door opened and someone dressed in black with a ski mask on pulled me inside. The door shut and locked as I tried to get up. My attempt was stopped as another person wearing a ski mask helped the other person hold me down.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Floating</title><link>/stories/2013/08/04/floating/</link><pubDate>Sun, 04 Aug 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/08/04/floating/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;As far as she could remember, she&amp;rsquo;d always been attracted to spa treatments and other alternative therapies. She never refused to try out new kinds whenever she got the chance. Over the years she&amp;rsquo;d experimented quite a variety: mudpacks, body wraps, various sorts of baths… When planning her vacations it wasn&amp;rsquo;t rare for her to take into consideration the kinds of treatments available wherever she might be going. This had been a good excuse to visit somewhat distant places. On occasions she&amp;rsquo;s been covered from neck down in thick clay or seaweed paste, wrapped tightly in plastic film and reflective foil, and left to lie for a while as her body was purified by the process – so it was claimed. Her slimy body quickly heating up due to the layers of insulation, the feeling of sliding around inside the plastic sheath had proved most tantalising.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Consultants 4.19</title><link>/stories/2013/06/28/the-consultants-4.19/</link><pubDate>Fri, 28 Jun 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/06/28/the-consultants-4.19/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="consultants418.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Consultants 4.18&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4: Chapter 19&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Leslie’s convalescence was progressing well. Nevertheless, the early autumn weather was lovely and she felt no urged to leave Gwyneth and the open spaces of the countryside round Saxon Court for the confines of London. Amber’s erratic schedule often allowed her to base herself there too, while Charles came down each weekend, arriving late on Friday evening and returning to Town on Monday at the crack of dawn so as to beat the traffic.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Garbage. Contents: You</title><link>/stories/2013/06/14/my-garbage.-contents-you/</link><pubDate>Fri, 14 Jun 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/06/14/my-garbage.-contents-you/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Mmm, a little downer can worm its way into any mood, right? I mean I shouldn&amp;rsquo;t complain - I&amp;rsquo;ve just been promoted, I&amp;rsquo;ve got the rest of today off, and I didn&amp;rsquo;t hit a single red light on the way home&amp;hellip; yet now I remember that this week&amp;rsquo;s and last week&amp;rsquo;s trash has gotta be hauled out for tomorrow. As I park up and take the white and brown papers from the mailbox at the end of the driveway I contemplate on my current lack of a big strong boyfriend. My last one had no problems with these sorts of yucky man-tasks, so long as he was reminded of them. Oh well. My key twists in the front door lock as I consider hiring a cleaner. Could I get away with paying some loser minimum wage for cleaning my house? It&amp;rsquo;s only small&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Do You Really Have to Get Up?</title><link>/stories/2013/03/29/do-you-really-have-to-get-up/</link><pubDate>Fri, 29 Mar 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/03/29/do-you-really-have-to-get-up/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I caressed Miriam’s shoulder gently and kissed her neck, then taking the duct tape I tore off a long strip. She glanced over her shoulder at me as I began to grin and she put her hands together behind her back. I wasted no time and quickly wrapped the tape around her wrists. She gasped as I wound another strip of the tough sticky tape, just above her elbows. Admiring her now helpless arms for just a moment, I pulled her back against myself and ran my hands across her flat stomach and up to her firm round young breasts. She gasped as I teased her nipple and quivered as I gave her firm pinch. She turned slowly in my grip and we kissed, a lingering kiss.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Last Day of Her 29th Year Part 3: The Final Act</title><link>/stories/2013/02/15/the-last-day-of-her-29th-year-part-3-the-final-act/</link><pubDate>Fri, 15 Feb 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/02/15/the-last-day-of-her-29th-year-part-3-the-final-act/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(a spiritual sequel to “&lt;a href="lastday_29thyear2.html"&gt;The Death of Doctor Vader&lt;/a&gt;“)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3: The Final Act&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Hazel lay spent in the middle of the bed, breathing hard, panting almost, after our carnal act together. I rolled myself out from under the sheets and she lay there, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning her head to look to me. I began to get dressed.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Hazel” I said softly over my shoulder.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Last Day of Her 29th Year Part 3: The Final Act</title><link>/stories/2013/02/15/the-last-day-of-her-29th-year-part-3-the-final-act/</link><pubDate>Fri, 15 Feb 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/02/15/the-last-day-of-her-29th-year-part-3-the-final-act/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="lastday_29thyear2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Last Day of Her 29th Year Part 2: The Death of Doctor Vader&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;_(a spiritual sequel to “&lt;a href="lastday_29thyear2.html"&gt;The Death of Doctor Vader&lt;/a&gt;“)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3: The Final Act&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Hazel lay spent in the middle of the bed, breathing hard, panting almost, after our carnal act together. I rolled myself out from under the sheets and she lay there, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning her head to look to me. I began to get dressed.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Compost Corner</title><link>/stories/2012/11/18/compost-corner/</link><pubDate>Sun, 18 Nov 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/11/18/compost-corner/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I had to write with a situation I put myself in recently.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I enjoy cross dressing and getting messy so after reading many of your stories and a few experiments I planned a day were I could get well and truly messy.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The idea of an obstacle course appealed to me so I set out planning around my garden. It is about 1.5 acres and is mainly grass lawns with wooded part at the bottom of the slope where a small stream runs. There are also 2 old sheds which I keep the gardening tools and mowers in. There is a compost heap were all the grass cutting go, as these rot down and being next to the steam become a thick gooey muddy mess. As you walk on it your feet sink in at least to the top of your wellington boots. This is ideal especially with a bit more water added.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Scout Camp</title><link>/stories/2012/11/12/scout-camp/</link><pubDate>Mon, 12 Nov 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/11/12/scout-camp/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="../storieslr/mariespendingadayinabin.html"&gt;Marie Spending a Day in a Bin&lt;/a&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;a href="../storiesek/humangarbage.html"&gt;Human Garbage&lt;/a&gt;
The Letter&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The letter arrived on a thursday, but Marie didn&amp;rsquo;t notice it before friday. And it sure didn&amp;rsquo;t advertise itself - just a simple, white envelope with her name and address in front. No sender. The stamp was ordinary and the post office had marked it a few days before. Now of course a letter wasn&amp;rsquo;t a big deal in itself, but Marie didn&amp;rsquo;t receive many letters. After her father had died last year, she hadn&amp;rsquo;t received any letters at all! That is - of course she had bills and other kinds of official letters, but nothing like this. She drank a cup of coffee while letting the anticipation grow.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Diving goes Wrong</title><link>/stories/2012/10/02/diving-goes-wrong/</link><pubDate>Tue, 02 Oct 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/10/02/diving-goes-wrong/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;NB: English is not my first language so please forgive any mistakes - please enjoy.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Last weekend a dive tour goes nearly wrong. It was an unplanned stay in a compactor in an Apartment complex. What I previously not have considered that the complex was very big and the compactor they use have arms to lift dumpsters. Thats what i know today.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was 10 at the evening as i slipped in the nearly empty compactor througt the open ram. I expected that no one would be working at this time of the evening. So i make my dream run and all was ok.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Go Green</title><link>/stories/2012/08/24/go-green/</link><pubDate>Fri, 24 Aug 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/08/24/go-green/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One: Arrival&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Her eyes open, but nothing changes. It’s just as dark. She breathes in.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;When plants are caught in absolute darkness, a substance in them called auxin stretches their stems out, until they die. That’s why when you leave a plant in a closet it turns a ghostly pale, warped and disfigured.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Our plant is stretching; she’s been in the dark for hours unknown. She slowly, progressively becomes more aware of her situation. She first realizes that it is dark; then she notices the cool feel of plastic against her exposed skin (that’s when she deduces her nudity); she then realizes that her hands are tied together behind her back. It is hard to breathe.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Wife's Garbage</title><link>/stories/2012/08/06/wifes-garbage/</link><pubDate>Mon, 06 Aug 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/08/06/wifes-garbage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I had convinced my wife to bag me up for a day while she cleaned up the house. Well I seemed to have done more convincing than I thought (or I really pissed her off).&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She started out Friday night by tightly wrapping my knees to my chest and my arms by my side with plastic wrap. Then she stuffed her sock in my mouth and duct taped my mouth shut. After that she rolled me over to a big 64 gallon black contractor bag and sat me down in the middle then pulled the sides up over my head and placed the folding flaps over me to block my vision of outside the bag.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sealed, Constrained, Recycled 4: Living Rubber Toy</title><link>/stories/2012/07/22/sealed-constrained-recycled-4-living-rubber-toy/</link><pubDate>Sun, 22 Jul 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/07/22/sealed-constrained-recycled-4-living-rubber-toy/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="sealedconstrainedrecycled3.html"&gt;chapter three&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 4: Living Rubber Toy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The normal regime continued apart from the slave being taken off the liquid diet to allow him to build up reserves. Some weeks late every item had been assembled and stored in the dungeon. The final delivery arrived from the States. It was the Aquala drysuit with a special modification; the fitting of a watertight drainage valve which would allow the enema tubing to be used if the slave was placed under water. This drysuit completed all items listed on the ‘RECYCLING list’, the slave had been place on the liquid only diet some days before and was completely ‘clean’; He was informed that the initial trials would commence at the next session.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mind &amp; Body</title><link>/stories/2012/07/20/mind-body/</link><pubDate>Fri, 20 Jul 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/07/20/mind-body/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Georgia slumped back onto her sofa and lit a cigarette. It had been a long day at work and she puffed away on her smoke, trying to relax. She drew on her cigarette and as she exhaled she laughed to herself, knowing that giving up smoking had to be done with willpower and there was no easy way, like that hypnosis nonsense. She thought back to her trip to the hypnotist a few days ago, and what a waste of time it had been. She was just about to flick the TV on and settle down in front of some rubbish programme or other when the doorbell rang. Georgia huffed to herself as she got up to see who it was. The doorbell rang out again as she was nearing the door.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Tale of Tim &amp; Carol Part 2 Chapter 7: Carol Takes the Reins</title><link>/stories/2012/06/26/the-tale-of-tim-carol-part-2-chapter-7-carol-takes-the-reins/</link><pubDate>Tue, 26 Jun 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/06/26/the-tale-of-tim-carol-part-2-chapter-7-carol-takes-the-reins/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="taletimcarol26.html"&gt;Chapter Six&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PART TWO – CAROL FINISHES THE STORY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 7: Carol Takes the Reins&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I didn’t sleep like a log, or a child, or whatever the euphemism is, for I would wake during the night with Monica working hard on me, her tongue going deeper and deeper, her nose pushing hard up against my clit. I encouraged her along, pressing down on her head, and whispering my approval. Finally it was morning, and I rose from the pillow, with Monica’s head still trapped at my quim. I stroked her head and loosened the collar, and her head slid out. Her hair was matted with sweat and her face bright red and covered in sweat and my juices. But she looked quite content.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Group Therapy</title><link>/stories/2012/06/10/group-therapy/</link><pubDate>Sun, 10 Jun 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/06/10/group-therapy/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I was on my way to my first group session, one of those places where you all sit around in a circle and talk about your problems. I was going to the ‘I treat women like trash’ group, I had admitted I had a problem. That was the first step, right? It all seemed so straight forward when I arrived. The counsellor introduced himself at the door, shook my hand actually. I fetched myself a coffee, like some of the other guy’s there did and took my seat in the circle. The counsellor began the session, I was eager to hear what some of these guy’s were going to say. I sat forward, ready. The first guy stood up.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>She Blamed Herself</title><link>/stories/2012/06/10/she-blamed-herself/</link><pubDate>Sun, 10 Jun 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/06/10/she-blamed-herself/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;She could only watch as her husband fucked the young girl on the kitchen table. Not making love, but rough hard sex. All she could do is helplessly weep as she was forced to see it. He was doing it to be cruel. An act of merciless cruelty, just for her. It hurt her like she’d never been hurt before. He relentless thrust himself into the girl who kept turning to look at her, smiling and grinning at her. It hadn’t always been like this. He was caring and tender once, even during their bondage games that they both enjoyed so much. They’d been married for four years and dated for ages before that, they knew everything about each other. Except the one secret she’d kept from him. The one thing she was afraid to tell him. Then about six months ago she plucked up the courage.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Human Garbage</title><link>/stories/2012/03/16/human-garbage/</link><pubDate>Fri, 16 Mar 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/03/16/human-garbage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="../storieslr/mariespendingadayinabin.html"&gt;Marie Spending a Day in a Bin&lt;/a&gt;
Stuck&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The sweat made tracks in the drying dirt on her body making her skin itch and prickle. There was little she could do about it - her hands still locked to the grill grate that had first shielded her from getting hurt by bottles but which had later added to her humiliating predicament. She couldn&amp;rsquo;t even complain as the ring gag was still keeping her mouth painfully open leaving it exposed to dripping goo from the grate.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>I'll Forgive You In the Morning</title><link>/stories/2012/01/28/ill-forgive-you-in-the-morning/</link><pubDate>Sat, 28 Jan 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/01/28/ill-forgive-you-in-the-morning/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Georgia stirred and groggily woke from her slumber. What a night she thought to herself, must have been a good one. She didn’t remember drinking that much, but she’d been out cold for awhile she guessed as the light came streaming in through the windows. She tried to rub her eyes. She couldn’t move her hands. She could feel the familiar leather cuffs locking her hands behind her back. She blinked furiously. That’s when she saw her boyfriend, Paul at the foot of the bed pulling a strap tight around her ankles.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>I Promised You</title><link>/stories/2012/01/21/i-promised-you/</link><pubDate>Sat, 21 Jan 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/01/21/i-promised-you/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Catherine!” Her husband Paul’s shout woke her from her fantasy. It wasn’t just a shout, he was yelling at the top of his lung’s. She thought it sounded like he was furious, she knew he was on his way to the bin. He was going to drag her out and she was going to be in big trouble, but she couldn’t help it. She loved to get naked, climb in and writhe around in the trash. She loved the way it felt against her skin, made her dirty and made her feel dirty. Usually she’d play for a couple of hour’s, she’d be trash until she was hot and horny. She’d bring herself to a climax before Paul got home from work, she’d be out and showered before he’d even know. He’d caught her a few times before, when she’d lost track of time. He was home early today and she was about to get caught again.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Was it What She Wanted?</title><link>/stories/2012/01/21/was-it-what-she-wanted/</link><pubDate>Sat, 21 Jan 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/01/21/was-it-what-she-wanted/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Christ, it must be Tuesday. I thought to myself as I felt Charmaine slide out of bed. She always thought that she was being so discreet, but I always noticed. I lifted myself onto my elbows and blinked a few times to clear my groggy vision. I looked at the clock, Six fifteen, bang on time as usual. The bin men had woken her up and I looked to the bedroom window to see her, as I expected gazing out of the window.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Can It!</title><link>/stories/2011/12/04/can-it/</link><pubDate>Sun, 04 Dec 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/12/04/can-it/</guid><description>&lt;h2 id="another-tale-of-mistress-messiérs-household"&gt;Another tale of Mistress Messiér&amp;rsquo;s household&lt;/h2&gt;
&lt;h2 id="sit-tight-iscah-sighed-well-see-how-much-trouble-you-are-in-a-heavy-thump-sounded-it-got-dark-and-i-heard-a-metallic-snick-this-wasnt-good"&gt;My name is AJ Pine, and all I wanted was a cupcake.
Oh sure, I&amp;rsquo;d heard rumors about the sort of things that happened in Mistress Messiér&amp;rsquo;s house. But I didn&amp;rsquo;t take them very seriously. The money was good, and plenty of staff made the hours easy and the work light. Okay, sure, all of us running around in black PVC maid uniforms was kind of strange; but I looked smashing in mine, and yay rich weirdos, am I right?
But if there was one thing that Mistress was famous for, it was her dinner parties: and not the main course, either. I mean, those were wonderful enough, and there was always enough left over for the staff to pillage. I think that was intentional. But the desserts! Oh lord, the desserts. Chocolate cakes, layered until they should have fallen over. Chocolate cream pies, vanilla cream pies, and lemon meringue all boasted the fluffiest of toppings, and sat light as a feather in the stomach. We served rich, thick, smooth puddings; moist, delicate yellow cake and sponge cake cut into adorable shapes; and those cupcakes. One bite of the devil&amp;rsquo;s food cake and the amazing buttercream icing, and you knew you&amp;rsquo;d spend an extra day in Purgatory atoning.
And that&amp;rsquo;s where it went wrong. You see, we never get any of those, the guests don&amp;rsquo;t leave us a scrap. And there&amp;rsquo;s tons of it. So, one day, a couple of evenings before the party, I crept into the kitchen on a mission. I&amp;rsquo;m a little short, so I had to bring a step stool; but in the top cabinet hid my objective. I opened the door, and there was a tray of chocolate cupcakes. In no time I had the paper off one and half of it in my mouth. There wasn&amp;rsquo;t time to savor it, but it was so incredible!
And then a shadow fell over me. Redheaded Iscah, supervisor for my section, stood over me with an angry expression and a threatening wooden spoon in her hand. I had to admit, scared as I was, that the black PVC uniform looked great on her too. Or&amp;hellip; was the fear helping that?
&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m&amp;hellip; um&amp;hellip; sorry?&amp;rdquo; I said.
&amp;ldquo;I don&amp;rsquo;t doubt that for a moment,&amp;rdquo; Iscah answered. &amp;ldquo;In fact, I&amp;rsquo;m sure you don&amp;rsquo;t know how sorry you are yet. But you will.&amp;rdquo; And she dropped the spoon, and in a movement I was completely unprepared for, grabbed me around the waist and slung me over her shoulder.
Did I mention I was a bit short? Iscah&amp;hellip; isn&amp;rsquo;t. I just hung over her with my composure completely gone. I remembered Mistress saying we could be canned for rules infractions, but a single cupcake wasn&amp;rsquo;t worth being fired for! Well&amp;hellip; okay. It wasn&amp;rsquo;t the first. But my sad-kitty-eyes-look had done the trick with the other maids. Didn&amp;rsquo;t look like it would with Iscah.
It wasn&amp;rsquo;t a complete loss. The backs of Iscah&amp;rsquo;s legs were quite lovely poking out from her pink-trimmed vinyl skirt, and I had some time to look at them as she carried me into the lift and it began to move down. When the doors opened, I quickly figured out that we were in the ground floor utility room - I could see a small pile of stuffed trash bags in the corner, rubbish that wouldn&amp;rsquo;t stink up the place until we took it out. Then I heard a creak, and a thump, and I slid down from Iscah&amp;rsquo;s shoulder&amp;hellip;
&amp;hellip; into the depths of a huge black trash can, lined with a heavy liner and already holding a few small filled plastic bags that cushioned my landing. I couldn&amp;rsquo;t easily see over the the rim of the can. &amp;ldquo;What? What the hell is this? What are you doing -&amp;rdquo; I started to yell, but Iscah produced a ball gag from somewhere and swiftly, expertly fastened it on me. I could only grunt with frustration, and didn&amp;rsquo;t react in time either to her binding my hands together from fingertips to wrists with a small roll of plastic shipping wrap.
Iscah reached down and grabbed a slightly smaller plastic trash bag that I&amp;rsquo;d been sitting in unaware. I say slightly, because she was able to bring it up over my head and twist-tie it shut. Her quick fingers poked a few air holes in the plastic, and the next noise sounded a lot like someone had equipped the can with a vent fan.
&amp;ldquo;Sit tight,&amp;rdquo; Iscah sighed. &amp;ldquo;We&amp;rsquo;ll see how much trouble you are in.&amp;rdquo; A heavy thump sounded, it got dark, and I heard a metallic snick. This wasn&amp;rsquo;t good.&lt;/h2&gt;
&lt;h2 id="that-was-a-pretty-nice-kiss"&gt;Time passed, I have no idea how much. We don&amp;rsquo;t wear watches at work, and I didn&amp;rsquo;t have a chance of getting that lid open. I was getting plenty of fresh air though, and had resigned to waiting it out, when I heard steps, a filled bag being set down next to me, and the lock click open.
And there was light! Iscah undid my bag, and took off the gag. I wasted no time. &amp;ldquo;I said I was sorry!&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;That&amp;rsquo;s what you said the last time, and the time before, and the time before,&amp;rdquo; Iscah said. I didn&amp;rsquo;t know she knew about those. &amp;ldquo;Now the mistress will be short of desserts for her guests tonight, and you know how she loves her desserts.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;She&amp;rsquo;s got so many desserts, what difference did those make?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Because those were for tonight. You know the rules around here, Pine. Get caught snitching desserts, you get canned.&amp;rdquo;
Ohhhh. Cute. &amp;ldquo;I thought that meant I&amp;rsquo;d be fired.&amp;rdquo; I wiggled around in the can, making my bag rustle in the faint hope it would suddenly inspire Iscah to let me out.
&amp;ldquo;Nope. Around here, you get canned. Now hold still.&amp;rdquo; She reached down to where I&amp;rsquo;d heard her set her filled trash bag, and when she stood, she held one of Mistress&amp;rsquo; heavy, thick cream pies. Five seconds later, I realized with a shock that she had shoved that pie right in my face! The goo oozed to the top of my head, into my ears, down the neckline of my uniform, and into the bag where I sat.
My bound hands did suffice to clear my eyes and nose. &amp;ldquo;Ack! What - what the heck was that?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Mistress sent me down here to throw away some things. Too bad there was already something in the can&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Some thing?!? Some one!&amp;rdquo; And then, dammit, she hit me with another pie. It was yummy: I couldn&amp;rsquo;t deny that. Hey&amp;hellip; &amp;ldquo;That doesn&amp;rsquo;t look like trash to me!&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Well, you wouldn&amp;rsquo;t want actual garbage in there with you, right? Ewww.&amp;rdquo; The way Iscah said it left my own status uncertain.
I had another thought. &amp;ldquo;Um&amp;hellip; Those are awfully tidy pies for having been in the bottom of that trash bag.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;You talk a lot.&amp;rdquo; And she got it from I don&amp;rsquo;t know where, but Iscah picked up a big red bucket that I found was full of chocolate brownie batter, because I could easily taste it as it ran down my face and hair.
&amp;ldquo;Oh&amp;hellip; god&amp;hellip; I can&amp;rsquo;t see a thing&amp;hellip; what have you done to my hair?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Funny thing that, you&amp;rsquo;ll find that its some of the best conditioner around. Not that you&amp;rsquo;ll see a shower soon.&amp;rdquo; And no sooner had I cleared my eyes and nose then that she-devil clamped two vanilla cream pies to the sides of my head, like a pie sandwich.
&amp;ldquo;Noooo,&amp;rdquo; I protested vainly, &amp;ldquo;I thought we were running short of desserts&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Heavens no. Not in this household. It&amp;rsquo;s the ones you got into that upset Mistress. Why, if you&amp;rsquo;d asked, I&amp;rsquo;m sure she&amp;rsquo;d have made you a cake.&amp;rdquo;
Yeah, funny lady. &amp;ldquo;Why do I think that meant I&amp;rsquo;d have been covered in frosting and had little candles perched on me?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;At least you would have been safe from dripping wax! Speaking of cake,&amp;rdquo; and a huge mixing bowl overfull of yellow cake batter cascaded over my face, and down my shoulders, and I&amp;rsquo;m sure that witch got a ton of it into my cleavage on purpose.
I could only cry out. &amp;ldquo;Ahhhhhh&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;My goodness - it really is noisy in here.&amp;rdquo; And she pied me again, and again. Would this never end? &amp;ldquo;And finally&amp;hellip; you liked the cupcakes so much&amp;hellip; Mistress arranged something special.&amp;rdquo;
Oh no. One, two, three, a dozen, I lost count of how many of those cupcakes were cruched into my hair, my face, my ears, my bosom. To be honest, the one Iscah shoved in my mouth was kind of enjoyable. But when she finally got bored, I was a complete wreck.
&amp;ldquo;That&amp;rsquo;s the lot. And now, time to take the trash out.&amp;rdquo; I couldn&amp;rsquo;t even speak any more, even without the gag. She closed the inner bag over my head, lowered the lid, and&amp;hellip; no. Are you kidding me? No way. No way at all. My can tilted back, then rolled forward. I was moving.
I called out again, uselessly. &amp;ldquo;I said I was sorry!&amp;rdquo; It didn&amp;rsquo;t matter. We bumped over the doorsill - that wasn&amp;rsquo;t fun - and I could immediately hear the patter of raindrops on the lid of the can. Finally, motion stopped, and Iscah opened my lid and bag again.
&amp;ldquo;And there you go. Mistress said to take the trash out, and I did. You&amp;rsquo;ve got air holes, so you should be fine until she calms down and I can bring you back inside. Doesn&amp;rsquo;t usually take more than an hour or two.&amp;rdquo; Then&amp;hellip; oh, then&amp;hellip; Iscah kissed me.
I couldn&amp;rsquo;t believe it! How dare she! After all that had just happened, how could she do that? And&amp;hellip; and&amp;hellip; how could I have liked it?
Bag - closed. Lid - down. Lock - click. Fan - whir. Stuck in here in this nasty, slimy, pretty-good-smelling bag for two hours? Two whole hours?
&amp;hellip;
That was a pretty nice kiss&amp;hellip;&lt;/h2&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I guess I fell asleep. I didn&amp;rsquo;t know what time it was when I awoke, so I started banging on the lid as best I could through my bag, and with my wrapped hands; it must have been two hours by now. After a short period, the lock clicked, and the lid opened. Bright light, blinding light! How long had I been in there? It was dark when she kissed me!
Someone, I couldn&amp;rsquo;t see who, stripped the wrap from my hands and shoved a damp rag into them. I cleared a little of the gunk from my face, but once I could see, no one was there. My small step-stool sat next to the can, and I climbed out with some difficulty; my hands and feet were still slippery, and I didn&amp;rsquo;t want to fall. The utility room door stood open. I walked inside. From behind a hanging tarp sat a huge table of the desserts similar to the ones with which Iscah had tortured me, and a note.
&amp;ldquo;My AJ,
&amp;ldquo;I am aware of what has passed over the course of the night, and I feel you may have properly learned your lesson.
&amp;ldquo;However, Iscah overstepped her bounds a few times, and we cannot have that in this household. She will be down shortly, and does not know you have been freed. Would you assist me with some correction?
&amp;ldquo;With my appreciation,
&amp;ldquo;Mistress M.&amp;rdquo;
I looked at the pile of filled black plastic bags which still sat against the wall. My gooey face slowly wore a grin. The wheeled bin would have to stay outside; but now that I knew I was no longer canned&amp;hellip; it was time for Iscah to get trashed.
&amp;mdash;&amp;ndash; THE END &amp;mdash;&amp;ndash;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Gold Digger</title><link>/stories/2011/11/28/gold-digger/</link><pubDate>Mon, 28 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/11/28/gold-digger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The bicycle crested the hill. Hard to miss that hot pink and black outfit. I checked that the Harley was well hidden behind the tractor under the eave and headed into the woods.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I ducked behind some bushes at the corner of the house and adjusted the camera. I waited. Didn&amp;rsquo;t have to wait long.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She peddled into the clearing and onto the brick patio. (click click click) She straddled the bike as she took off her helmet, shook out her impossibly blonde hair. (click click) She rolled the bike behind, then into the garage.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Half Baked</title><link>/stories/2011/11/28/half-baked/</link><pubDate>Mon, 28 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/11/28/half-baked/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Adele batted his hand away.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Hey! Stop that.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He put his hand back on her tit. He had his other hand in her hair, holding her head as he kissed her, a teeth grinding kiss.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Jesus Andy!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He fumbled the buttons on her blouse, tugged at the thin fabric.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Never done it here before. Done it everywhere else but here, baby. This is gonna be something you never forget.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She wasn&amp;rsquo;t wearing a front-clasp bra. She always wore that bra for him. He wrapped his arms around her, slipped the catch, slid his hands under the cups, squeezed her tits - hard.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trash Doesn't Have a Name</title><link>/stories/2011/10/03/trash-doesnt-have-a-name/</link><pubDate>Mon, 03 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/10/03/trash-doesnt-have-a-name/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;She had been nervously walking up and down the street, unsure as to actually knock the door or not. She had to she thought to herself. She knocked the door. A man quickly opened the door.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Yes?” He asked gruffly.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Are you Doctor Vader?” She shuffled and asked nervously.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I am, and you are?” He abruptly asked.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“My name is Georgia” She had barely said her name and the man was already swinging the door shut on her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Revenge is in a Bag of Trash</title><link>/stories/2011/09/10/revenge-is-in-a-bag-of-trash/</link><pubDate>Sat, 10 Sep 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/09/10/revenge-is-in-a-bag-of-trash/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Georgia woke feeling a little groggy and unsure. She didn’t remember getting home from work the night before. She tried to stretch her arms, but she couldn’t. The fog in her mind clearing quickly now, unable to move her arms quickly realising she couldn’t move her legs either. Georgia’s panic rose as she took in her surroundings, she wasn’t in her bed, she wasn’t in her room, she hadn’t gotten home last night! She tried to call out but just a meagre whimper escaped her, she was gagged too. Fear overtook her and she tried to thrash and struggle, but it was useless her arms and legs tightly wound with black electrical tape, the rubbery tape unforgiving in her restriction.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Her Punishment</title><link>/stories/2011/09/04/her-punishment/</link><pubDate>Sun, 04 Sep 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/09/04/her-punishment/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I was going to be punished.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It doesn&amp;rsquo;t matter now what I did, or why. What matters is that I lay on my back on a padded table, naked, blindfolded, and slightly shaky from the thorough enema she&amp;rsquo;d just given me. For some infractions, that would have been penance enough, but I know this one would be far more complex.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She spread my knees apart and gently began lubing my rear passage. I felt the tip of something cool touch me and begin sliding inside: something long, cylindrical, and slightly textured.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Perhaps I Should Have Told Him</title><link>/stories/2011/08/26/perhaps-i-should-have-told-him/</link><pubDate>Fri, 26 Aug 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/08/26/perhaps-i-should-have-told-him/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Author&amp;rsquo;s note:
I have really tried to enhance my story this time by adding stuff not particularly dealing with how and where. I&amp;rsquo;m afraid I&amp;rsquo;ll have to admit that descriptive writing isn&amp;rsquo;t my strong side, and I&amp;rsquo;m having to ship the story as is. While I&amp;rsquo;m writing this I have the tingling sensation in my secret place from a self whipping session which involved nettles. Somehow on the holiday described in this story I have become obsessed with nettles, and while I finish proofreading I am taking full advantage of the season&amp;rsquo;s last nettles. If there is a God, I&amp;rsquo;m sure he will send me straight to hell, but I hear that there are plenty of nettles there&amp;hellip; And as always - any sbelling misdakes are there for your entertainment and to satisfy your need to feel superiour - if you have the need for such a thing. To all of you superiour beings that have English as a native language, I&amp;rsquo;d like to ask to send me your extended comments on my grammatical errors, spelling and split infinitives in Danish and with the correct spelling and syntax.
I hope you will enjoy the story about my last summer holiday in Sweden. I usually write about my self bondage experiences, but this time my husband beat me to it. I was proofreading a story from my past when events overtook me in the fast lane. This is the story of my life changing suddenly and dramatically, but luckily for the better.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Sorority Trashing Part 2: The Beginning to an End</title><link>/stories/2011/07/31/the-sorority-trashing-part-2-the-beginning-to-an-end/</link><pubDate>Sun, 31 Jul 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/07/31/the-sorority-trashing-part-2-the-beginning-to-an-end/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="sororitytrashing.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Sorority Trashing Part 1: The Way It All Began&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: The Beginning to an End&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I awoke to a loud thunk.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Holy hell girl what are you doing?!&amp;rdquo; a girl exclaimed.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;ve gotta fucking pee Kirsten. Now are you going to help me or not?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Well, remember what Dedra said? If we&amp;rsquo;re caught using anything but a diaper today, we&amp;rsquo;ll need to do a keg stand.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Training Amy</title><link>/stories/2011/07/31/training-amy/</link><pubDate>Sun, 31 Jul 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/07/31/training-amy/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Prologue&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I don&amp;rsquo;t have a lot of rules. I don&amp;rsquo;t micromanage Amy. As my slave, her job is to anticipate my needs and desires and see that they are met. And I&amp;rsquo;m a low-maintenance Master. Providing for me isn&amp;rsquo;t all that taxing.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As I said, I don&amp;rsquo;t have a lot of rules, but one of them is the ten o&amp;rsquo;clock rule. Given her druthers, Amy would stay up half the night with a glass of wine and a book. But now, at ten, Amy gets ready for bed and presents herself to be cuffed and collared, naked, of course. I lock the collar around her neck and the cuffs to her wrists and ankles. I lock her wrists together and take her into the bedroom where I lock her collar to the bed chain. And that&amp;rsquo;s how she spends the night. That&amp;rsquo;s how she&amp;rsquo;s spent every night for the last fifteen years. That&amp;rsquo;s how long Amy has been my collared slave. All told we&amp;rsquo;ve been together twenty years&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Settlement Girl Weekend</title><link>/stories/2011/07/21/settlement-girl-weekend/</link><pubDate>Thu, 21 Jul 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/07/21/settlement-girl-weekend/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Author&amp;rsquo;s note: This is a true story, an actual description of my self-bondage weekend. Thanks to &lt;strong&gt;Zack&lt;/strong&gt; for editing it.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;ve always loved reading the &amp;lsquo;&lt;a href="https://writingsofleviticus.grometsplaza.net/Graham/TaleOfTheSettlement.html"&gt;Settlement&lt;/a&gt;&amp;rsquo; stories by Graham. To be honest, I like a lot of bondage stories, and I play bondage games with myself a lot too. But the stories I like the most are the ones where the characters are kept in bondage and are nude almost constantly. The girl or girls never have a chance of being free or clothed, and they have to adjust to living that way forever, or at least for a very long time.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Marie Spending a Day in a Bin</title><link>/stories/2011/07/19/marie-spending-a-day-in-a-bin/</link><pubDate>Tue, 19 Jul 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/07/19/marie-spending-a-day-in-a-bin/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Current situation: Bad&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Inside the bin the temperature was terrifying. Sweat poured down her face and upper body making traces in the slimy waste, that stuck to her naked skin. Her blonde hair was annoyingly clinging to her face and shoulders - teasing her constantly, yet she was utterly unable to pull it away. From time to time she tried scraping her face clean against the bin, but still she had to be careful not to make any noise. Her arms ached behind her back - tied together with adhesive tape. By now the tape should have loosened in the damp environment, but this tape just wouldn&amp;rsquo;t let go. Her feet was stuck in some small gymshoes - crushling her toes in the slimy goo that she filled them with before tightening the strings.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Blue Ribbon Chili</title><link>/stories/2011/03/21/blue-ribbon-chili/</link><pubDate>Mon, 21 Mar 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/03/21/blue-ribbon-chili/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Uncle Dave? You know who that is don&amp;rsquo;t you?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Who?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;The redhead over yonder.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Dave shrugged. &amp;ldquo;Said she was in culinary school and as a class project she had to help in the cook-off.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Well, that&amp;rsquo;s Caitlin Ballard, old man Ballard&amp;rsquo;s granddaughter.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;You sure? Said her name was Tracy Simms or Simmons, something like that.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Uh uh. She goes to Western. They play us in basketball. She&amp;rsquo;s a cheerleader and they had a picture of the squad in the program. I kinda had a thing for her, so I asked around. She&amp;rsquo;s old man Ballard&amp;rsquo;s kin for sure.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dumped on my Birthday</title><link>/stories/2011/03/08/dumped-on-my-birthday/</link><pubDate>Tue, 08 Mar 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/03/08/dumped-on-my-birthday/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This story starts two months before my 40th birthday.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My girlfriend and I were talking about what our deepest secrets are and I was hesitant to tell her that I had a fetish for garbage and for trash bags. I wanted to experience this fetish and went online to find like people in this fetish of mine. This is where I found this great site of stories; I also found a site that dealt with dating people with fetishes. I got caught by my girlfriend in doing this and she was asking me why I had to look elsewhere for my tastes. This is where the truth about my tastes came to light.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Wife's Unexpected Change of Heart</title><link>/stories/2011/03/08/wifes-unexpected-change-of-heart/</link><pubDate>Tue, 08 Mar 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/03/08/wifes-unexpected-change-of-heart/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It has always been a dream / fetish of mine to be wraped up in black rubbish sacks and used by a beautiful lady then put away untill she wanted to use me again. When i meet my wife (Kate) i was unsure as to tell her my secret of making large bags, getting in and enjoying myself, to this day i still have not told her i choose to play on my own when she is out. Anyway on with the story&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>What a Drag</title><link>/stories/2011/02/18/what-a-drag/</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 Feb 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/02/18/what-a-drag/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The idea had been filling my thoughts for quite a while, I had read a story of a woman that used a winch to drag herself through her home and out into the garden, and it had affected me deeply.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I am nineteen and have always enjoyed being tied up and held captive, but it is only recently that the idea has transmogrified into a sexual desire, and since it has, I have hardly been able to keep my fingers out of my slot.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>R.A.B.B. Revenge Against Bad Boyfriends 3: Bens' Story</title><link>/stories/2011/01/18/r.a.b.b.-revenge-against-bad-boyfriends-3-bens-story/</link><pubDate>Tue, 18 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/01/18/r.a.b.b.-revenge-against-bad-boyfriends-3-bens-story/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="rabb2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;R.A.B.B. Revenge Against Bad Boyfriends 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter Three: Ben&amp;rsquo;s Story - Final.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Robyn left Ben hanging in his condom prison the next morning, with a few ounces of her morning pee inside, just to &amp;ldquo;piss&amp;rdquo; him off! She was in the kitchen when Brittany arrived.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;You actually fucked yourself &amp;hellip;.with him?!&amp;rdquo; Brittany laughed.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Head first!!&amp;rdquo; Robyn explained!!!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;You HAVE to let me&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo; Brittany pleaded&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;He&amp;rsquo;s upstairs, hanging on the bed post, go have fun!!&amp;rdquo; Robyn said!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Pleasure Poled</title><link>/stories/2011/01/04/pleasure-poled/</link><pubDate>Tue, 04 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/01/04/pleasure-poled/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I am 33 years old, 5&amp;rsquo; 8&amp;quot; tall slim with long legs and long blond hair and an ample pair of breasts and when I am in my day job as sales manager meeting new customers I&amp;rsquo;m often wearing something that excites me, my favourite being a nappy and plastic panties, if only they knew what I got up to in my free time. I have an ever increasing desire for sexual excitement and stimulation which involves, pain, bondage, dressing up and getting very messy. My latest adventure involves a lot of planning and preparation and over the previous weeks had been getting various pieces of equipment organised.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Playtime with Linda</title><link>/stories/2010/11/28/playtime-with-linda/</link><pubDate>Sun, 28 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/11/28/playtime-with-linda/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;With thanks to Linda (dirty_trashbag_girl)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I met Linda through Fetlife and a couple of other trashbagging groups, we began just by messaging about our mutual interests in bags, trash and compactors, then we started roleplaying and developed a few good scenarios that we played out online. Linda or myself would get into a trashbag and play what the other directed, it was all great fun and we developed a rapport and trust over time that eventually allowed us to meet in person.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Unexpected Disposal</title><link>/stories/2010/11/22/unexpected-disposal/</link><pubDate>Mon, 22 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/11/22/unexpected-disposal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;She was walking on the beach when she saw a bluff in the distance, a long cliff that began as a sand dune and then sloped up into a big hillside, and then dropped away towards the ocean, forming a picturesque bluff, complete with sea grass over the top, and a sandy white face dropping to the beach. She had been walking for about two hours, and being new to the area, she wanted to explore some more. Still walking along the beach, she approached the bluff, and as she grew nearer, it began to reveal its true size, it was a little farther away than she first thought- but as she was on vacation hear, it made little difference to her. Ann would get into a mood for long walk-abouts, and just go exploring- Ann loved to find new places, and this was a great new place for her. Finally at the base of the bluff, the cliff rose up slowly from soft sand at the base, and grey clay and rock were exposed about thirty feet or so up the face; roughly exposing the earth to the elements. As she walked near the base, she noted a ramp-like feature to the base that seemed to be a travel path. Though it was a natural feature, it went along the wall of the bluff and went up a ways out of site.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Unexpected Disposal</title><link>/stories/2010/11/22/unexpected-disposal/</link><pubDate>Mon, 22 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/11/22/unexpected-disposal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;She was walking on the beach when she saw a bluff in the distance, a long cliff that began as a sand dune and then sloped up into a big hillside, and then dropped away towards the ocean, forming a picturesque bluff, complete with sea grass over the top, and a sandy white face dropping to the beach. She had been walking for about two hours, and being new to the area, she wanted to explore some more. Still walking along the beach, she approached the bluff, and as she grew nearer, it began to reveal its true size, it was a little farther away than she first thought- but as she was on vacation hear, it made little difference to her. Ann would get into a mood for long walk-abouts, and just go exploring- Ann loved to find new places, and this was a great new place for her. Finally at the base of the bluff, the cliff rose up slowly from soft sand at the base, and grey clay and rock were exposed about thirty feet or so up the face; roughly exposing the earth to the elements. As she walked near the base, she noted a ramp-like feature to the base that seemed to be a travel path. Though it was a natural feature, it went along the wall of the bluff and went up a ways out of site.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Linda's out with the Diaper Trash</title><link>/stories/2010/11/17/lindas-out-with-the-diaper-trash/</link><pubDate>Wed, 17 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/11/17/lindas-out-with-the-diaper-trash/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I lookup at the clock. Nearly time to close. The last few customer&amp;rsquo;s mill about the store, picking up various odds and ends. I&amp;rsquo;m pretty certain that none of them are going to buy anything. I look over to Sarah, the shift manager, and ask &amp;ldquo;Sarah, do you mind if I go now?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sarah peers about the store, and shakes her head, &amp;ldquo;No Linda, It&amp;rsquo;s fine. Been a slow night. I&amp;rsquo;ll see to the deposit and closing things out. Do run the trash to the chute on your way out though&amp;rdquo;. I nod to Sarah, smiling. All in all, this gig at the mall isn&amp;rsquo;t so bad. Especially since Sarah fired Jessica. She&amp;rsquo;d been skimming from the tills, and I called her on it. Sarah got her ass fired, and now things are a bit more tolerable here.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Almost Deserved Retribution</title><link>/stories/2010/11/16/almost-deserved-retribution/</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/11/16/almost-deserved-retribution/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This is a story told to me by a young British lady who wished to remain nameless, but asked for me to tell her tale. Her wish is my command! So this comes from what I like to call jokingly ‘The Ackerman Files’. I know she will enjoy reading her story, I hope you do as well, enjoy. Ps: thank you to all who have left comments on my work, I am sincerely sorry that I cannot respond directly (work load) but I am sure you would prefer stories rather than E-Mails, but thank you all the same.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Mine Trouble 3</title><link>/stories/2010/09/18/my-mine-trouble-3/</link><pubDate>Sat, 18 Sep 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/09/18/my-mine-trouble-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WARNING&lt;/strong&gt;: Adult only story. Mines, caves, tunnels etc, are potential killers. Do Not enter without serious consideration, preparation, equipment and experience. Act safely and sensibly at all times, stupidity costs lives.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Self bondage is fun, and has been fun since before I care to remember, but eventually, no matter how tight the bondage, no matter how strenuous the situation. There comes a point in every fantasists dreams that it is just not enough! The danger is not as pointed as it once was, the need is more desirous of risk, and by risk I mean being hurt or caught or humiliated publicly, and the need to feel the fear of all of these possibilities burns in your mind. I had arrived at just this point in my bondage life, and on the day that I discovered a disused mine shafts air vent. (continued from &lt;a href="myminetrouble2.html"&gt;part 2&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Mine Trouble 2</title><link>/stories/2010/09/06/my-mine-trouble-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 06 Sep 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/09/06/my-mine-trouble-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WARNING&lt;/strong&gt;: Adult only story. Mines, caves, tunnels etc, are potential killers. Do Not enter without serious consideration, preparation, equipment and experience. Act safely and sensibly at all times, stupidity costs lives.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Self bondage is fun, and has been fun since before I care to remember, but eventually, no matter how tight the bondage, no matter how strenuous the situation. There comes a point in every fantasists dreams that it is just not enough! The danger is not as pointed as it once was, the need is more desirous of risk, and by risk I mean being hurt or caught or humiliated publicly, and the need to feel the fear of all of these possibilities burns in your mind. I had arrived at just this point in my bondage life, and on the day that I discovered a disused mine shafts air vent. (continued from &lt;a href="myminetrouble.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Turmoil</title><link>/stories/2010/08/30/turmoil/</link><pubDate>Mon, 30 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/08/30/turmoil/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="turmoil3.html"&gt;part 3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 7: The Enemy Within&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“You all right, miss?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The faraway voice echoed in her ears. Although everything was a dark blur, she could clearly make out a few distinctive features of the speaker only by her sense of smell. Somewhere deep inside her confused mind, she thought it was quite amusing to see things through her nose all of a sudden. The person spoke again.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Wishes can come true</title><link>/stories/2010/07/16/wishes-can-come-true/</link><pubDate>Fri, 16 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/07/16/wishes-can-come-true/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Lynn had worked for the same company for nearly 7 years. Living is the Atlanta area, she was a beautiful Southern gal, her husband treasured her, and her co-workers were best friends as well. She was striking, nearly 6 feet tall, stick thin with beautiful breasts, shapely hips and a tiny waist to die for. Her smile lit the room up, and her long flowing blonde hair simply said” Southern Lass”.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Wishes can come true</title><link>/stories/2010/07/16/wishes-can-come-true/</link><pubDate>Fri, 16 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/07/16/wishes-can-come-true/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Lynn had worked for the same company for nearly 7 years. Living is the Atlanta area, she was a beautiful Southern gal, her husband treasured her, and her co-workers were best friends as well. She was striking, nearly 6 feet tall, stick thin with beautiful breasts, shapely hips and a tiny waist to die for. Her smile lit the room up, and her long flowing blonde hair simply said” Southern Lass”.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Packaged Principal</title><link>/stories/2010/06/28/packaged-principal/</link><pubDate>Mon, 28 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/06/28/packaged-principal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;In the back of my mind I&amp;rsquo;d always known that sooner or later this sick urge of mine was going to get me into serious trouble. But I&amp;rsquo;d never imagined that I&amp;rsquo;d end up like this! My inability to control my urges had left me to an inhumanly humiliating demise. If my body was ever found the predicament I had allowed myself to get into would be an embarrassment to my family and the entire school forever.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ryan takes out the Trash</title><link>/stories/2010/06/13/ryan-takes-out-the-trash/</link><pubDate>Sun, 13 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/06/13/ryan-takes-out-the-trash/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I was in a rush. I&amp;rsquo;d spent too long as usual making myself look presentable - but I was looking pretty, though I say so myself. My waitressing shift was due to start in 20 minutes and I had some bills to pay along the way, so I&amp;rsquo;d better get a move on.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Ryan, where’s that tin that was on the fireplace?” I asked my son, who was sitting on the sofa reading a comic book.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jessica and the Garbage Plant</title><link>/stories/2010/04/27/jessica-and-the-garbage-plant/</link><pubDate>Tue, 27 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/04/27/jessica-and-the-garbage-plant/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Introduction&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jessica Salt, a cousin to Veruca Salt, whom she used to tease about what befell her at the chocolate factory. She is an intelligent girl, who worked her way up in her fathers Garbage Sorting Plant, she finally made it to become supervisor of the day shift.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jessica and the Garbage Plant&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a normal day for Jessica, she arrived on time as she had done for the last few years, today was a special day for her and her father, they where installing a new system to sort the trash. Jessica had heard it was made by Wonka Inc and was going to speed up the trash process at the plant, most of the workers were displeased that a machine might be replacing them.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dirty Filthy Sex</title><link>/stories/2010/04/15/dirty-filthy-sex/</link><pubDate>Thu, 15 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/04/15/dirty-filthy-sex/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I woke up in bed, hot sticky and horny as hell, with a fire burning in my loins! My fingers soon put out the fire, but not the desire that caused it to rage through my soft female sex.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I can only put down my arousal to a story I read on the internet last night. It was quite simple in concept; the story took a woman and a dustbin and put the two together in a dirty messy kind of way. Now why this should affect me in such a way I can’t tell you, but it most certainly did!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trashgoop</title><link>/stories/2010/02/17/trashgoop/</link><pubDate>Wed, 17 Feb 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/02/17/trashgoop/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;She rang the bell and stood outside on the steps of the stoop, shivering a little in the cold fall air. Her double-ponytailed, jet black hair blew in the breeze, as did her light skirt, exposing the high platform, strappy goth boots she wore.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She was actually nervous, it occurred to her. She wasn&amp;rsquo;t afraid of anything - her multiple piercings and tattoos, among other things, were a testament to that. Yet, here she was shivering, and she wasn&amp;rsquo;t sure it was all the cold.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bin Night</title><link>/stories/2009/11/29/bin-night/</link><pubDate>Sun, 29 Nov 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/11/29/bin-night/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was that time of the week again when the bin bags are put out for collection.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My husband was sat playing on the computer when I looked at him suggestively and moaned, “It’s your turn to take out the bins tonight”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He looked reluctant and acted very vacant to the fact that I had even asked him to accomplish this simple chore.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This made me slightly mad, yet a devilish thought entered my mind, I thought if he wants to act like a rubbish husband – he might as well be one, so I went in to the kitchen and searched frantically for the extra large 240ltr black wheelie bin liners. When I came across the silky roll, I rubbed the roll in my hand and a wicked smile swept across my face, ‘I thought, huh, I’ll show him!’&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Late Night Dumpster Date</title><link>/stories/2009/11/22/late-night-dumpster-date/</link><pubDate>Sun, 22 Nov 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/11/22/late-night-dumpster-date/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s October. The air is crisp and cool, perfect for a dumpster explorer like me. It&amp;rsquo;s about 11pm on a Sunday night, and my trashy journey begins. I lock my front door behind me and step out into the night air in my old doc martens, some grubby old cargo pants and a retro-styled t-shirt with Oscar the Grouch on the front.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s trash night, and the streets in my neighborhood are lined with garbage cans, overflowing with black and white garbage bags, some spilling their contents onto the street&amp;hellip; cups and papers blowing in the night breeze. I sniff the air to see if I can catch a whiff of all that lovely garbage&amp;hellip; not close enough, so I walk down the street for a closer look. One particularly lovely looking pile of white bags catches my eye. I walk to it and begin feeling the bags. They are heavy with kitchen waste, my all time favorite. Looking closely, I can see the stuff inside, looks like old salad and macaroni, mixed with used napkins and paper plates, a can or two, plastic bags&amp;hellip; you know, your run on the mill garbage. I like these bags, so I heave a few out of their cans and place them closer to the curb for &amp;ldquo;pickup&amp;rdquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Aloha Goddess Linda</title><link>/stories/2009/10/15/aloha-goddess-linda/</link><pubDate>Thu, 15 Oct 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/10/15/aloha-goddess-linda/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I have somehow stumbled into your world after yet another
reincarnation. It seems that I have found my lot in life as a four inch man. I&amp;rsquo;m
always on the run from evil giantesses as I continue to look for that perfect
gentle giantess to live out my current life with. Every time I get close to
success, my life gets cut short. I have been successful in finding gentle
giantesses to live with, but they usually want to share their good fortune with
one of their girlfriends (who usually have an evil streak in them).&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trashy Dom Part 2: Instruction</title><link>/stories/2009/08/28/trashy-dom-part-2-instruction/</link><pubDate>Fri, 28 Aug 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/08/28/trashy-dom-part-2-instruction/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="trashy_dom.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trashy Dom Part 1: Arrival&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: Instruction&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;With a brief yelp of surprise, Jessica suddenly found herself tumbling through a sudden rush of cool air before disappearing in a mass of clothing, including what had shared her bag only moments before. Thankfully her head was clear, giving Jessica an unobstructed view of her surroundings. She definitely was in a pile of clothing, with thick cloth walls rising up on either side of her. She muffled her surprise and confusion through the gag, which brought a cheerful giggle from above.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My New Trashy Slave</title><link>/stories/2009/03/26/my-new-trashy-slave/</link><pubDate>Thu, 26 Mar 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/03/26/my-new-trashy-slave/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Well, I have to admit. Watching my new sex toy struggle against the bondage tape and trash filled bags that surround her as a vibrating dildo and butt plug cause her so much torment, made me think of the day we started to chat on that phone line:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Good day to all you gentlemen. My name is Susan and I have a dark fantasy I want to live out with the right gentleman. I am 5 foot 9 inches tall with dirty brown hair and blue-green eyes and I weigh about 135 pounds. I am originally from Germany, but moved when I was an infant. Give me a guess at what my fantasy is and you might find yourself talking to me more and more.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mama's Little Sucker</title><link>/stories/2009/02/06/mamas-little-sucker/</link><pubDate>Fri, 06 Feb 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/02/06/mamas-little-sucker/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;also appears devouredstories&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;For as long as mankind can remember, eating has evolved from a simple
means of survival to an art-form. But evolution has a funny way of changing
it&amp;rsquo;s course. For there is coming a time when eating will be more than a
Platable pleasure, but a pleasureable punishment. Huh&amp;mdash;? you say&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well allow me to explain,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A few years back there was a family&amp;hellip; the Carters. They were no different
than any other family of the 90&amp;rsquo;s. There was Betty Carter (48), a single
working mom of two children, Jimmy (16) and Sarah (20). Ms. Carter was
a spritefull woman for her age and fairly attractive. She had shoulder-length
dusty-blonde hair, was slim and fit, with a sharp mousy nose. She was a
hard-worker and would often times come home 3-4 hours late.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trash Goth</title><link>/stories/2008/12/05/trash-goth/</link><pubDate>Fri, 05 Dec 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/12/05/trash-goth/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I remember meeting him on the train going into work. He was dressed like some kind of goth: a black leather trenchcoat worn over a black t-shirt, black spandex tights, and black leather workboots. He also had gorgeous, fluffy dark hair. He sat in the seat across from me, flashed me a quick smile, and began reading a broadsheet newspaper. He would rustle the paper quite noisily everytime he turned a page. I don&amp;rsquo;t think he was doing that to annoy me, however.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Transfer Station</title><link>/stories/2008/10/10/transfer-station/</link><pubDate>Fri, 10 Oct 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/10/10/transfer-station/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Nancy has different summer plans for her husband, as marriage counseling doesn’t always work out.  A caustic tale of rotting, fetid garbage, unknown outcomes and a ride to the town’s transfer station.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The acrid, putrid smell of my last 2 days permeates every pore of my sweat-drenched body.  It is indescribable the ooze and slime that grows on everything on or near me, enveloping my every naked orifice.  The odor has gotten so caustic that I can&amp;rsquo;t even sense the smell that continues to rot around me in my drum.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Working in the Food Factory</title><link>/stories/2008/10/05/working-in-the-food-factory/</link><pubDate>Sun, 05 Oct 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/10/05/working-in-the-food-factory/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My fascination with being buried, unable to move under hundreds of stuffed garbage bags had been with me all my life, and like the others out there that I had seen online, I had often tried to stage these scenarios at home using big tough bags, tape and rope. More often than not, this turned out to be a big disappointment, but I knew that one day, I could find a way to safely make this fantasy come true.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bagged</title><link>/stories/2008/09/30/bagged/</link><pubDate>Tue, 30 Sep 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/09/30/bagged/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was hotter than he had expected.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Granted, it was October and the weather outside had taken on a definite fall chill in the air so the radiator inside the apartment was steaming full blast, but he had not thought that it would be so warm and actually humid bundled as he was in the two huge, zip-tied trash bags. He was sweating bullets, and starting to reek from his own body odor in the close confines, never mind the rancid smelling garbage that Judy had dumped into the bags and over him before going to bed - how long ago?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Prisoner in Rubber and Bondage - Chapter Chapter Chapter 8: Work and Punishment</title><link>/stories/2008/09/07/prisoner-in-rubber-and-bondage-chapter-chapter-chapter-8-work-and-punishment/</link><pubDate>Sun, 07 Sep 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/09/07/prisoner-in-rubber-and-bondage-chapter-chapter-chapter-8-work-and-punishment/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="prisoner_rubber7.html"&gt;continued from part seven&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 8: Work and Punishment.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She pointed to a large copper heating cylinder and a large round copper plate with an electric motor mounted on it and also a pair of electric pumps.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“What you have to do is remove the top from the cylinder and weld the round plate on to the cylinder making sure it is watertight. Then following the sheet of instructions on the bench you connect the pipes from the pump to the cylinder and complete the wiring up of the pumps, agitator motor and the float switches. When you have finished call me on the phone extension and I will show you where it has to go. This should be quite a simple job for you to do and when it is eventually completed and installed it will provide your Mistress with a very effective means of punishing a wayward prisoner and seemingly endless hours of humiliation for you.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ruth and Wendy 2: The Fashion Show</title><link>/stories/2008/05/21/ruth-and-wendy-2-the-fashion-show/</link><pubDate>Wed, 21 May 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/05/21/ruth-and-wendy-2-the-fashion-show/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Read the initial part of this story first**. &lt;a href="ruth_wendy.html"&gt;Ruth and Wendy&lt;/a&gt;**&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2:  The Fashion Show&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The morning sun filtering through the window curtains and onto Wendy’s face slowly wakened her from her deep sleep. As she was gaining full consciousness the aroma from the latex hood brought back the memories from last evening, and of course Ruth, who was still asleep inside the cape with her head beside her crutch. Wendy softly massaged Ruth’s neck and around her ear through the latex cape until Ruth began to stir and purr in enjoyment of both the smell of the latex mixed with the aroma of Wendy’s vagina and the caressing of her fingers on her neck. Ruth eased her mouth to Wendy’s love lips and extended her tongue to slide it into the lips and find the clitoris and when it did it slowly licked the bud.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Rubber Katie and Latex Jenny Chapter 3: Mystery Treat</title><link>/stories/2008/03/21/rubber-katie-and-latex-jenny-chapter-3-mystery-treat/</link><pubDate>Fri, 21 Mar 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/03/21/rubber-katie-and-latex-jenny-chapter-3-mystery-treat/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continues from &lt;a href="rubber_katie2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 3 – Mystery Treat&lt;/strong&gt;
Two months had passed since my first experience with Jenny and rubber.
Jenny had moved across the hall to be with me in my bedroom and the rubber clothes, no longer hidden in their bag, now had pride of place in her former wardrobe.
We had repeated our love making many times and Jenny had introduced me to the joys of a few more of her latex items and also to some more of her &amp;lsquo;&amp;rsquo;toys&amp;quot;. She had even taken me to her favourite fetish store to select my first set of my own rubber clothes. I choose an all-in-one leotard-like body, stockings, suspender belt and gloves all in shiny black; a set of the flimsiest black rubber underwear - panties, bra and a basque - and a short, sleeveless electric blue cheerleader-style dress. So short that if I bent over wearing it, whoever was behind me would get an eyeful of my stocking tops and bare buttock cheeks.
I should say here that our lovemaking did not always involve the use of latex clothing and artificial aids. It was, however, always hot and passionate - no matter what flavour it came in.
With only a very small amount of soul-searching, I had come to terms with my new sexual status. Jenny and I were now very definitely a couple. I was trying to decide when and how to tell my friends that I was dating another woman. There was plenty of time. I wanted them to get to know Jenny as a friend first before I explained just what kind of friend she was.
Without the need to get up early for work the following day, Friday nights were usually one of our &amp;lsquo;rubber nights&amp;rsquo;, dedicated to leisurely rubberised love-making followed by a lazy Saturday morning in bed. One Friday morning, however, Jenny told me over breakfast that we wouldn&amp;rsquo;t be needing the latex stockings, gloves or other paraphernalia that evening - she had something different for me to try. Seeing my disappointment, she quickly stressed that it was something that she was sure l would enjoy.
When I excitedly asked her what, she refused to say. Her only clue was that I should get home as early as possible and make sure that I kept the weekend free.
Fortunately, I didn&amp;rsquo;t have any major deadlines or meetings that day because l spent it sat in my office watching the hands of the clock slowly marking off the time until l was free and trying to guess what new form of deviancy she had in mind.
I considered bondage scenarios and new unimagined sex-toys, but apart from being certain that it would involve us both getting very hot and lusty I couldn&amp;rsquo;t guess.
As the hour of escape approached, I made an excuse to leave early, turning down the usual after-work drinks at the wine bar on the corner, and headed for home as quickly as the tube would take me.
I arrived home in a state or excitement to find that Jenny had been home since lunchtime and that she had been busy in the small third bedroom which is used as a store room. The boxes and unused furniture usually stored there were gone and the mattress from Jenny&amp;rsquo;s old bed was in the centre of the floor. The mattress itself and the floor were covered with heavy transparent plastic decorator&amp;rsquo;s sheets which she had taped together with thick strips of black duct tape. In the comer was a collection of metal paint tins.
Jenny stood barefoot in the middle of the plastic sheet wearing just a black sports bra and briefs. She was smiling broadly.
&amp;ldquo;Hi Lover,&amp;rdquo; she said, twirling a roll of tape around her index finger, &amp;ldquo;Good day at work?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Oh! Are you planning some decorating?&amp;rdquo; I asked, confused and somewhat disappointed by the sight of the painting equipment.
&amp;ldquo;In a way, but it&amp;rsquo;s not the room that&amp;rsquo;s getting the makeover!&amp;rdquo; Jenny replied cryptically.
&amp;ldquo;I don&amp;rsquo;t get it.&amp;rdquo; I said.
&amp;ldquo;You will. I&amp;rsquo;m nearly finished with this, so go get out of that suit then come and give me a hand for a couple of minutes before we get started.&amp;rdquo;
In our bedroom, I quickly kicked off my shoes and dumped my briefcase, stripped off my suit jacket and skirt and tossed my blouse in the washing basket. I returned to the other bedroom bare foot like Jenny, in just my white cotton bra and knickers.
Jenny gave me an appreciative look then handed me a roll of the black tape. &amp;ldquo;I haven&amp;rsquo;t finished that corner over there. Just overlap the sheets a little at the edges then tape the two together along the joint.&amp;rdquo;
I complied with her instructions, wondering what all this was for. Clearly the sheeting was intended to protect the carpet, but, if not from paint, then what? And if we were not going to be decorating the room, why did we need to go to all this effort?
A few more joints were taped and we were both done. Jenny stood and surveyed the work, then, satisfied that it would suit whatever she had in mind, she nodded.
&amp;ldquo;OK.&amp;rdquo; She said turning to me and taking my hand, &amp;ldquo;Let&amp;rsquo;s be having you in the bathroom please miss.&amp;rdquo;
She led me out of the room, along the hall and into our bathroom. The shelf at the end the bath was covered with new toiletries and the bath was already full of warm foamy water.
Jenny pulled me to her and gave me a passionate open-mouthed kiss; at the same time unhooking my bra. She drew it off of my shoulders and dropped it on the floor, letting my breasts bounce freely. I felt my nipples beginning to stiffen as she slid her hands down my sides and hooked her thumbs into the sides of my knickers. In one motion she carried on sliding her hands down the outsides of my thighs taking the briefs with them as she dropped into a crouch in front of me. Jenny planted a light kiss on my abdomen and then let the briefs join the bra on the floor. She stood and began to remove her own bra.
&amp;ldquo;Right, now into the bath. I&amp;rsquo;ve already filled it and we need you nice and soapy for this first bit.&amp;rdquo; She instructed.
Still wondering where all this was leading, I decided that I would just follow Jenny&amp;rsquo;s instructions and see what developed; after all, I was enjoying the way it was going so far.
I climbed into the bath and laid back in the cloud of flower scented bubbles as Jenny stepped out her knickers. I noticed that she had freshly shaved between her legs taking away the small amount of pubic hair that had developed there since she had last pruned the area.
&amp;ldquo;D&amp;rsquo;you remember that I said there was a reason why I liked to keep myself bare down here?&amp;rdquo; she asked pointing to the spot that I was already concentrating on.
&amp;ldquo;Yeh, but you never really told me why.&amp;rdquo; I answered.
&amp;ldquo;No; well today&amp;rsquo;s gonna be a practical demonstration. First that thatch of yours is coming off, then later I will show why&amp;rdquo;.
Jenny climbed into the bath and sat down in front of me. She indicated that I should place my legs on either side of her, which I did as she produced a wet razor from amongst the collection of jars and bottles on the shelf. Quickly her hands disappeared under the water, then hidden by the foam I felt her left hand massage my pubis softly before the right gently brought the razor into contact with my skin.
Expertly, she rapidly shaved away the hairs, stroking me all the time to test which areas still needed attention. In a few minutes she was done, I was bare.
Jenny placed the razor back on the shelf then leaned forward and stretched herself along my body to kiss me. One hand reached up around the back of my head and pulled it upwards to meet her descending face for us to kiss and the other began to work between my legs, making short stroking sorties into the opening of my vagina. Simultaneously, her tongue found its way between my lips into my mouth and her thumb slid into my pussy to push against my clitoris. I wrapped my arms around her to hold our position in the water and we stayed like that for several minutes. I moaned softly through our kisses as she thumb-fucked me to a climax there in the water.
&amp;ldquo;OK, darling, that&amp;rsquo;s got you &amp;lsquo;started&amp;rsquo;.&amp;rdquo; she said when my orgasm had subsided. &amp;ldquo;Now we need to empty the water out and move on to stage two.&amp;rdquo; Jenny smiled, her thumb and forefinger still pressed up inside of me.
She jerked the chain to pull the plug and the water began to drain away taking the foam and my pubic hair with it. Next she took a large jar from the shelf and unscrewed the lid.
&amp;ldquo;This,&amp;rdquo; she said, &amp;ldquo;is called &amp;lsquo;Sugaring&amp;rsquo;, it&amp;rsquo;s for removing body hair, and if it&amp;rsquo;s done properly it&amp;rsquo;s not painful like waxing is.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;ve heard of that.&amp;rdquo; I said, &amp;ldquo;My sister gave me a day at a health spa for a birthday and it was one of the treatments they offered. I didn&amp;rsquo;t have it done though, I spent too long with the masseuse and in the sauna.&amp;rdquo;
The last of the water was now swirling down the plughole and I could see my newly naked crotch for the first time. It was strange to see it like this and I got a sudden sense of nostalgia, back to the days before puberty had kicked off.
&amp;ldquo;Now, you need to be totally smooth and hairless for what&amp;rsquo;s coming later,&amp;rdquo; Jenny continued, shaking me from my reverie. &amp;ldquo;Let&amp;rsquo;s get on with it.&amp;rdquo;
Jenny climbed out of the bath and took one of the large bath towels from the corner stand.
&amp;ldquo;Dry yourself with this. You need to be completely dry for the sugaring to work its best.&amp;rdquo; She handed the towel to me and took another for herself.
When we were both dry she took a wooden spatula and scooped a large blob of the thick gel from the jar. She gently smoothed it up my arm. It was sticky but it felt nice as she spread it over my skin.
She scooped another blob, spreading the orange-scented substance over my whole lower arm. Then she produced a bundle of cotton strips from a bag on the floor. Jenny placed one of the strips on my arm, smoothing it flat into the gel before pulling it away flush with my arm. I felt the tug as the hairs pulled away from my skin but it wasn&amp;rsquo;t the tearing pain of waxing.
Jenny continued over the rest of my arms and then my legs, alternately spreading then stripping the sugaring. The hair removal left the skin tingling. I was still turned on from Jenny&amp;rsquo;s earlier attentions to my pussy and this wasn&amp;rsquo;t helping.
&amp;ldquo;Can I have a go Jen? On you?&amp;rdquo; I asked as Jenny was digging in the jar to load another dollop of goo onto the spatula.
&amp;ldquo;Sure, I did myself earlier whilst you were at work to save time, but I couldn&amp;rsquo;t reach my back so you could do that for me.&amp;rdquo; She handed me the jar and the spatula.
&amp;ldquo;OK, bend over the side of the bath and I&amp;rsquo;ll give it a try. Tell me if I hurt you&amp;rdquo; I said.
Jenny placed her hands on the side of the bath and bent forward. She wiggled her beautiful bottom at me and smiled over her shoulder.
&amp;ldquo;Would you say this was an appropriate position?&amp;rdquo; She asked coquettishly.
&amp;ldquo;Definitely!&amp;rdquo; I replied. &amp;ldquo;There&amp;rsquo;re guys in my office who&amp;rsquo;d give their right arms to see us like this.&amp;rdquo;
Jenny laughed. &amp;ldquo;I don&amp;rsquo;t know what I&amp;rsquo;d do with a bunch of right arms, but they&amp;rsquo;d be slightly more useful than the things guys usually want to give me. If you know what I mean.&amp;rdquo; She wiggled her backside again to emphasise her point.
I laughed along with her and spread the spatula&amp;rsquo;s load of gel across the top of her back, between her shoulder blades. I took some more and continued spreading the sugaring until the whole of her back was covered in a sticky layer of gel right down to her hips.
I took my first fabric strip and gently placed it over the gel at the base of her neck. I pulled it away as Jenny had demonstrated. Jenny didn&amp;rsquo;t leap in the air screaming so I must have done it right.
&amp;ldquo;That was fine.&amp;rdquo; she said.
I continued, working downwards to her hips, each time Jenny reassuring me that I was not hurting her.
When I was done, I ran my hands down her back and felt the softness of her skin. As I bent to her hips my eyes were level with bum cheeks. I had an idea.
&amp;ldquo;It looks like you&amp;rsquo;ve missed a couple of patches on your bottom. D&amp;rsquo;you want me to deal with them?&amp;rdquo; I asked Jenny.
&amp;ldquo;Yeh, sure.&amp;rdquo; She replied.
&amp;ldquo;OK, spread &amp;rsquo;em.&amp;rdquo; I said in my best fake-American tough-cop voice. Foregoing the spatula, I scoped a handful of gel from the nearly empty pot.
Jenny laughed and shuffled her feet further apart. &amp;ldquo;Please gov&amp;rsquo;, it weren&amp;rsquo;t me, honest!&amp;rdquo; she replied in a mock cockney accent.
She squealed as my gel covered hand slapped upwards between her legs against her pussy. I spread the gel over the opening of her vagina and slipped a finger inside her.
She was already wet and I had no trouble inserting another two fingers before spreading them within her and beginning a gentle rhythm sliding them in and out of her hole.
Jenny moaned as my sticky fingers began to work their magic. For a moment, a hand came up from the side of the bath and squeezed mine between her legs. I moved close behind her, her arse hard against my hips, and continued fingering her tunnel. Jenny pushed back against me and we began to rock backwards and forwards as her moans grew stronger. Her orgasm was approaching and her hands clenched tight to the edge of the bath. Her body stiffened as she reached climax, then went limp as the flood of pleasure ebbed through her. For a moment she rested her head on the edge of the bath.
&amp;ldquo;You really know how to push my buttons.&amp;rdquo; she sighed, her eyes half closed and with a smear of gel across her chin. &amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;ve never been turned on as much as I am by you.&amp;rdquo;
I smiled. &amp;ldquo;Me neither. I feel like all those years dating guys were just a warm up for this!&amp;rdquo;
Once she had recovered Jenny said, &amp;ldquo;Let&amp;rsquo;s get finished here then I can show you what I&amp;rsquo;ve got planned.&amp;rdquo;
She took a new jar of the sugaring gel and quickly smeared it over my chest, stomach, shoulders and back and sides. In ten minutes she was done with the cotton strips and I was hair free. We kissed again, before Jenny declared that we were finished.
Jenny stepped into the shower cubicle beside the bath to rinse off. I watched as the torrent of water sluiced the remaining gel away. She stepped out and grabbed her towel as I climbed in.
Once I had taken my turn and dried off, I looked again at my lover and asked what all the preparation was in aid off.
Jenny&amp;rsquo;s only response was to raise her eyebrows, then to take my hand and lead me back to the spare bedroom and it&amp;rsquo;s plastic sheeting. She led me to the mattress in the middle of the room then left me there to walk over to the paint pots and decorating tools by the wall.
&amp;ldquo;OK.&amp;rdquo; I said looking forward to getting the answer to this evening&amp;rsquo;s puzzle, &amp;ldquo;What&amp;rsquo;s going on? Tell me all.&amp;rdquo;
Jenny picked up one of the paint tins and levered the top off with a screwdriver. A faint chemical smell filled the room. It was not the usual smell of paint but the smell of ammonia. Jenny brought the tin over to me and showed me the contents.
The tin contained a thick crimson-coloured liquid looking just like paint. The label on the side of the tin though said &amp;lsquo;Liquid Latex&amp;rsquo;.
&amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s Rubber Katie,&amp;rdquo; she laughed, &amp;ldquo;but not as you know it! This stuff stays liquid in the tin but once it gets exposed to the air the ammonia solvent evaporates and after a few minutes it dries to form a rubber skin on whatever it&amp;rsquo;s covering - and what it&amp;rsquo;s going to be covering is us! It&amp;rsquo;s really fun and sexy stuff. The feeling as it dries on your skin is amazing.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;The only problem comes when you try to get it off.&amp;rdquo; she warned. &amp;ldquo;It peels off OK but if you&amp;rsquo;ve got body hair it can rip the hairs out and can hurt like hell. And it&amp;rsquo;s impossible to get it out of fabric - hence the deforestation process and the plastic sheeting.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;OK. It sounds like fun - let&amp;rsquo;s give it a go.&amp;rdquo; I said, anxious to try it out.
From behind the stack of tins Jenny produced two pieces of rubber material, one red and one blue. She tossed the red piece of rubber to me and kept the blue for herself
&amp;ldquo;These hoods will protect our hair, put it on and we can get started.&amp;rdquo;
The hood was a simple affair like the old fashioned swimming hats worn by Esther Williams in those corny 1940&amp;rsquo;s swimming films. It covered the hair and ears and had a narrow chin strap to keep it in place. The neck and the face were left uncovered. Being well practised by now with rubber hoods, I quickly tucked my hair under the latex and clipped the press-stud on the strap to its counterpart behind the left ear. The hood was tight and clung slightly uncomfortably across my forehead.
Jenny levered the top off another tin. This one contained dark blue latex and she handed it to me. Three more tins were opened; each contained a different coloured liquid - green, yellow and white.
I jiggled my tin slightly and watched the thick liquid wobble inside
&amp;ldquo;How do we use this stuff?&amp;rdquo; I asked.
&amp;ldquo;Like this.&amp;rdquo;
Jenny took a wooden handled paddle-shaped applicator made of foam and about two inches wide. She dipped it fully into her pot of red liquid latex. She pulled it out and admired the shine for a moment then drew the applicator across my stomach leaving a broad wet horizontal streak of colour. She dipped again and brushed a vertical stroke up between my breasts. I tentatively brought my hand to touch the liquid latex but Jenny told me off for this.
&amp;lsquo;&amp;lsquo;Don&amp;rsquo;t touch it, it will spoil the effect. Just stand still and I&amp;rsquo;ll paint a layer all over you.&amp;quot;
Jenny continued dipping and painting; running the brush in a circle around each of my breasts, before coating each with a layer of the red latex so that looked like enormous luscious red cherries.
My nipples hardened under the sensual strokes of the soft foam.
&amp;ldquo;This feels good.&amp;rdquo; I said approvingly.
&amp;ldquo;Wait until it begins to dry, that&amp;rsquo;s a real freaky feeling the first time.&amp;rdquo; Jenny responded as she painted broad bands of colour across my belly. She splodged a dollop into my belly button and jiggled the paddle playfully in that hollow then started to paint down into the V between my legs.
I spread my feet wider and Jenny painted right down between my thighs and under, bringing the applicator up behind into the groove of my bottom. Looking down, my pussy lips were coated in the thick shiny gunge, the opening of my vagina sealed under the layer of red.
Jenny moved behind me now and started again under my arms and down my sides, moving gradually on to my shoulder blades then down my spine in one swift stroke.
Before we started Jenny had turned the temperature on the heating up to maximum and the latex on my front was beginning to dry as the ammonia evaporated. The smooth film of rubber on my breasts was beginning to turn paler. As it dried and cured, the membrane began to shrink, pulling tightly at my skin in all directions like a sheet of sticking plaster might.
As Jenny had promised, this was certainly a novel sensation.
&amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s beginning to dry,&amp;rdquo; I said. &amp;ldquo;Wow, this is fantastic! It&amp;rsquo;s as if every square millimetre of my skin is being pulled on at once. It&amp;rsquo;s like that very tight rubber bodice of yours but it&amp;rsquo;s everywhere, not just where it touches and there&amp;rsquo;s no pressure.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;I know, I couldn&amp;rsquo;t believe it when I tried it the first time.&amp;rdquo; Jenny agreed, having finished my back and my bottom and working the foam tool down over my left thigh. &amp;ldquo;When you completely covered in a layer of this stuff it feels wonderful. And you can carry on building up additional layers to thicken the skin.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;I hope we&amp;rsquo;ve got enough.&amp;rdquo; I asked.
&amp;ldquo;No need to worry on that count, I&amp;rsquo;ve enough here to do each of us at least half a dozen times.&amp;rdquo; Jenny answered.
Jenny carried on applying the liquid latex with tidy even brush strokes, working down my thighs and over my knees to my calves and shins. She circled my ankles and stopped. She stood up and started working on my arms.
&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;ll leave your feet unpainted cos this stuff is a bit slippery to walk on and I&amp;rsquo;ll do your hands later&amp;rdquo; She explained.
&amp;ldquo;OK.&amp;rdquo; I said.
She drew overlapping stripes of crimson down my arms. The latex across my back, between my thighs and across my abdomen was beginning to set and shrink.
&amp;ldquo;Right. That&amp;rsquo;s you done.&amp;rdquo; She continued when my arms were completely covered. &amp;ldquo;You&amp;rsquo;re going to need to stand with your arms in the air for a bit and your legs apart so that the latex doesn&amp;rsquo;t stick to itself in your armpits and between your thighs.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trashy Jo</title><link>/stories/2008/03/08/trashy-jo/</link><pubDate>Sat, 08 Mar 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/03/08/trashy-jo/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jo is a student, living in a small flat with several roommates. Her appearance, is stunning, at least to guys. Not too tall, long blonde hair, a very nice face and some great curves.  But she isn&amp;rsquo;t a very tidy girl, her school work is slacking, and she loves to party.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well, besides from typical student behavior, she also invites her friends over regularly to party. All roommates do the same but the parties Jo throws almost always getting out of hand. Usually it ends with several drunk girls and guys, shouting and breaking stuff, generally causing a nuisance all over the flat. By then, Jo is usually nowhere to be seen, often diving in bed with one or two of the hunks she invites. Of course, this causes lot of trouble for the other roommates, who end up cleaning up after her, because after a party, she sleeps till midday. And we all know how much mess a party can give.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Something Special</title><link>/stories/2007/12/11/something-special/</link><pubDate>Tue, 11 Dec 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/12/11/something-special/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Rusty surprised me when I came home; he was waiting just past the door of the apartment, leaning against the far wall with a black trash bag in his hand. After a long day of work that was the end of a long week of work seeing my wolf holding that was just the thing to brighten me up. It meant he had plans for the long weekend, the kind of plans that made me giddy just by looking at him.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Paint</title><link>/stories/2007/10/16/paint/</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Oct 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/10/16/paint/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Susan stood in what was to become the master bedroom of the farmhouse, staring at a blank wall. She was a little nervous, and a little cold despite the fact that the house’s central heating was now working. She was nervous because she wasn’t quite sure why Scott had placed her here, although she hadn’t objected at all when he told her to strip so he could put her in some bondage for a while.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Three Ways to Pain</title><link>/stories/2007/09/29/three-ways-to-pain/</link><pubDate>Sat, 29 Sep 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/09/29/three-ways-to-pain/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I have tried many experiments with self bondage and self inflicked pain, here are some examples which i hope you find interesting:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.Obstacle course.&lt;/strong&gt;
Sbm; pain; stings; cons; XX&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As my partner has previously written i have a fetish with eggs bumping and grinding around my balls and penis, so this fun time began with me putting 18 eggs in my thong. Around my waist was my bondage belt to which i would connect my cuffed wrists to. Then i attached 3 clothes pegs to each nipple, to the middle peg which was firmly attached to the most sensitive point tied  4ft string lines to which i tied a shoe to each. I then snapped the padlocks to secure my wrists behind my back.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Drama Club's Garbage</title><link>/stories/2007/09/14/drama-clubs-garbage/</link><pubDate>Fri, 14 Sep 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/09/14/drama-clubs-garbage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Cheryl&amp;rsquo;s first indication that things were wrong was when she walked onto the high school stage and the rest of the drama club wasn&amp;rsquo;t there. She looked at her watch. Five fifteen p.m., she was only a little bit late for rehearsal. She dumped her backpack on the floor and headed to the props room. When she opened the door, someone grabbed her hand and yanked her forward so that she fell on the floor. She screamed and tried to get up, but a heavy weight pressed on her back and held her still. A hand clamped around her mouth as her hands were pulled up behind her back and tied. Her kicking legs were grabbed and tied, with rope cinching around her ankles and then crisscrossing around her calves and up her thighs, the knots pinching her skin even through her jeans.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Penny's Peril</title><link>/stories/2007/08/07/pennys-peril/</link><pubDate>Tue, 07 Aug 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/08/07/pennys-peril/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Are you ready for the party, little Penny?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Penny had been ready for weeks, ever since Mistress Tamara had told her about the upcoming BDSM Social. She loved the group&amp;rsquo;s events, and while it hadn&amp;rsquo;t been mentioned yet, Penny&amp;rsquo;s birthday was only a few days afterward, and she was hoping that Mistress had something planned.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;However, being excited wasn&amp;rsquo;t what Mistress meant by &amp;lsquo;ready&amp;rsquo; - she meant being dressed. Penny walked out of her bedroom in the black PVC maid&amp;rsquo;s dress she&amp;rsquo;d been ordered to wear: long-sleeved with a high collar, and a short skirt flaring widely out over a nylon crinoline. Neither the skirt nor the short, broad white PVC apron did a sufficient job of hiding the tight black unlined vinyl panties underneath.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trashed</title><link>/stories/2007/06/17/trashed/</link><pubDate>Sun, 17 Jun 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/06/17/trashed/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Rachel was an ordinary looking 21 year old single student. She shared a ground floor flat with four other girls for a year now and it was sad for her to see them go home for the summer.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Rachel herself was staying on, her parents owned the flat, she was going to get a summer job somewhere and keep the flat occupied for the insurance policy.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Although great friends with the girls she had never told them of any of her fetishes. She never had the guts to do it but loved the idea of indulging in her fantasies without them knowing, and the risk of being caught made it even better!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Alicia's Birthday Treat</title><link>/stories/2007/03/12/alicias-birthday-treat/</link><pubDate>Mon, 12 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/03/12/alicias-birthday-treat/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Alicia gives me a piece of candy. The next thing I
realize, I am only 4&amp;quot; tall and looking straight up at a beautiful monument.
She picks me up and hides me in her lunchbox, telling me she&amp;rsquo;s taking me home to
celebrate her birthday. She gets me home and tells me to strip.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I tell her to go
to hell, bitch.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Wrong move!!!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The next thing I know I am picked up in front of
her huge staring face. She blows her hot breath on me and then starts pulling
my clothes off with her teeth as I am kicking and pounding at her lips in
complete terror, begging her not to eat me. She stops and stares at me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Eggbound</title><link>/stories/2007/02/20/eggbound/</link><pubDate>Tue, 20 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/02/20/eggbound/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Hi.. Firstly thanks for this excellent website, it has not only been enjoyable to read but it given us great ideas too.It is nice to know that there are other people with the same likes. Here is a true story of how I discovered my husband in &lt;strong&gt;self bondage&lt;/strong&gt;. It is a little tame compared to some of your other stories,but i hope it is good enough for you to use.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bagging a Roomate</title><link>/stories/2007/02/04/bagging-a-roomate/</link><pubDate>Sun, 04 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/02/04/bagging-a-roomate/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Come on, Amanda! It will just be for today, and not even for that long!”
Sherri’s voice took on an almost pleading tone as she widened her eyes with a
mixture of hope and apprehension. Clasping her hands together in front of her
chest, Sherri looked up towards Amanda, not letting up for an instant, “Besides,
you agreed to it already, and you’re the only one I’d trust with this!”
Amanda couldn’t help but feel herself slowly giving grounds to Sherri’s
heartfelt pleads. Sherri had been her roommate for over two years now, and in
that time, she had quickly learned of Sherri’s skill at negotiating matters so
she got what she wanted. Even still, it hadn’t stopped Amanda and Sherri from
becoming fast and close friends, and had led to a few interesting nights between
the both of them; generally due to Sherri’s insistence and fantasies, from
bondage to a bit of sexual play, generally with Sherri asking to be tied up or
used in some way.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Family Garbage</title><link>/stories/2006/12/09/family-garbage/</link><pubDate>Sat, 09 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/12/09/family-garbage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Stacy took in a deep breath as she walked up the small steps of the porch to the
door of the huge house. Pausing to set her bags down and smooth out her knee
length skirt, she then put on her brightest smile and rang the doorbell. She
felt months of tension trying to leave her shoulders, even as she took in
another deep breath. While she waited, she couldn&amp;rsquo;t help but marvel at the
mansion sprawled out at the top of the hill. Pristine white, with sparkling
windows and a wide lawn, she couldn&amp;rsquo;t help but nod her head once, speaking to
herself, &amp;ldquo;Mom and Dad sure did do well with this place.&amp;rdquo;
A few moments after that, the door opened up, a woman dressed as a maid, and
only a little older than Stacy greeting her with a slight bow, &amp;ldquo;Oh! Miss, you&amp;rsquo;re
early! Come in, come in! Your parents weren&amp;rsquo;t expecting you for another
half-hour. Please, let me get your bags.&amp;rdquo; Before Stacy could even offer an
objection the tall, matronly woman swept past, taking up the two bags in one
hand each without any difficulties.
The woman was nearly a full six inches taller than Stacy&amp;rsquo;s own height of five
foot five, and much stronger to boot. The maid&amp;rsquo;s hair was also a deep black
color, with lush waves running through it; a sharp contrast to Stacy&amp;rsquo;s own
golden-blonde hair, which was straight as can be. She also had a very shapely
body, with wide hips and large, soft breasts, nearly a full double D cup size.
Stifling a giggle, Stacy sighed, but knew better than to try to argue with her,
&amp;ldquo;Thank you, Greta.&amp;rdquo; She smiled warmly if a bit tiredly to the woman, and took a
brief opportunity to give the dark-haired woman a hug; she&amp;rsquo;d been like a nanny
and best friend to Stacy for years now, and Stacy always enjoyed her company,
even if the woman could be a bit formal. Taking a few steps into the doorway,
Stacy called out into the house, &amp;ldquo;Mom? Dad? It&amp;rsquo;s me, I&amp;rsquo;m home!&amp;rdquo;
Stacy&amp;rsquo;s cry was rewarded with a muted answer, and then a woman who looked like
an older, slightly more shapely version of Stacy appeared, her long skirts
brushing her toes, &amp;ldquo;Oh, Stacy! You&amp;rsquo;re early, I take it traffic wasn&amp;rsquo;t bad?&amp;rdquo;
Stacy shook her head even as she shared an embrace with her mother. As she
pulled back, she noticed that Greta had already gone into the house, probably to
drop her bags off.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>First Time</title><link>/stories/2006/11/24/first-time/</link><pubDate>Fri, 24 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/11/24/first-time/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My first time, truth or fiction???&lt;/strong&gt;
I had been living with my boyfriend for about 6 months and we were now very
comfortable with each other. We are both into the bsdm lifestyle so it was not
uncommon for us to tie each other up. One night, Mike came up to me and asked if
he could be tied up and then hidden someplace where there was a risk that he
might be discovered.
He said, “It would be a rush to be hidden without people knowing that I was
there, yet still have the risk of being caught.”
I thought about it for a second and then said, “OK, what do you have in mind?”
Besides, this has the potential to be a real fun time for both of us.
Mike said, “You know that it is girls night out tomorrow?”
I said, “Yesssss and?”
“Welllll, what do you think would happen if one of them accidentally found me?”
he asked all shy like.
“I think that they would turn red at first and then laugh their asses off once
they got over the initial shock. Most of my friends enjoy the bondage thing, so I
would consider them more enlightened than some other people might.” I replied.
Besides I thought, depending on how he wants to get tied up, and it was usually
naked, this could turn out to be a lot of fun for all of us.
“Ok” he said, “I think that I can handle if some of your friends think that I am
a little weird.”
“They already know that!” I laughed. “So where do you want to hide in this
spacious condo?” I asked.
“Well I thought that I might hide in the garbage since we don’t have any other
suitably large enough hiding spots.”
I laughed as I looked over at the small white kitchen garbage can we had and
said, “Sorry honey, but I don’t think that your going to fit in there”
“Actually, I have thought about that.” he said as he walked over to the kitchen
sink. He bent down and opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a box of
garbage bags.
I laughed, “You’ve been thinking about this for awhile haven’t you?” I quipped.
“Uh-huh” he said with that smile he has.
“Ok, have you thought about the fact that people suffocate in plastic bags?” I
asked with some concern in my voice.
He replied, “I have thought about that, so you might have your work cut out for
you, but I don’t think so. If for some reason you have to tie the garbage bag
closed, take both ends of the garbage bag and tie them in a granny knot. Just
leave a hole in the middle like this.” he demonstrated. “I will be able to get
enough air through that hole.”
“How do you know?” I asked with a smile on my face.
“I tried it out to make sure that it would be safe for me before I asked you.”
he replied.
“What if they throw dirty, stinky garbage on you?” I ask.
“Part of the price to pay for the thrill of hiding.” he said.
I reached over and grabbed his crouch. “And so what part of this idea got you
all excited? The garbage being dumped on you or the hiding?” I asked.
“A bit of both.” he replied, “Cause if they are throwing garbage on me, then that
means that I am successfully hiding and they don’t even know it.”
“Sex?” I asked thinking that since he has such a nice hard-on and he wants
something from me, so I get to have whatever kind of sex I want tonight.
The next morning he woke me up with a smile on his face and said, “Remember, I
get to hide tonight!” with excitement in his face and voice.
“Yea, yea” I replied still trying to wake up after a good nights sleep. “Just
make sure your home before I start cooking supper, cause once I have started
getting supper and the condo ready for the girls I don’t want to stop and hide
you.” I stated with a stern voice.
“No problem, I’ll be there with bells on,” he cheerfully replied.
“No bells, they make too much noise.” I said as I laughed.
I had just gotten home from work and walked into the condo to see Mike sitting
there on the couch with a smile on his face. He quipped, “Look no bells on!”
“Oh yea, I had forgotten about that part.” I said, “You get ready and get your
stuff while I go get out of my work clothes.”
He quickly walked over to all the windows and closed the drapes on all of them.
Next he ran into the bedroom with me, stripped down naked almost as fast as he
does when I offer sex. Then he ran out into the kitchen and opened the box of
garbage bags and took one out. Next I heard the closet door open and the sound
of another bag hitting the floor. I came out of the bedroom to see Mike standing
there, buck naked, with a huge smile on his face next to a garbage bag full of
something and holding a new garbage bag in his hand. Next he began to unfold the
garbage bag, which took a lot longer than I thought because this garbage bag was
huge. He saw the surprise in my face at the size of the garbage bag and stated,
“These are the garbage bags they use for construction. They are thick and big to
hold lots of heavy garbage.”
“I don’t doubt that.” I replied, “So how do you want to do this?” I asked.
He got down on the floor sitting with his knees held tight against his chest.
“First, wrap me up with a layer of saran wrap,” he stated, “Then take the duct
tape and wrap it around me to hold me in this fetal position.” he said. After I
had done that he rolled onto his back and said, “Now take the garbage bag and
slide it underneath me and then lift it up so that I am lying on the bottom of
the bag with my back on the floor.”
Again with some difficulty I performed the task he asked of me. “Now what?” I
asked.
“Well you can open that other bag of garbage and dump in on me so that if your
friends look in the garbage bag all they see is garbage and not me.” he said.
“Do you know that you are going to be in there a long, long time? Cause us girls
have a supper and a chick flick and then whatever else comes up, going on
tonight. You might be in there till tomorrow.” I stated. “What if there is so
much garbage that I need to start another bag? Don’t you think that they might
get suspicious if I don’t throw out the full bag?” I asked.
“Well, I knew that I was going to be in here for a long time which is why I
wanted to lay on my back. I have already gone to the bathroom so I can make it
till tomorrow morning. And if you have to throw me out in the garbage dumpster,
the garbage truck does not come till Wed. so you can come let me out tomorrow
morning.” he replied. “Just remember to leave that hole so I can breath.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Nope, I think that I’m good to go.” he stated.
“Ok, but first I have one more thing to add.” I said. I walked away to the
bedroom leaving him there in the garbage bag all tied up. I came back with a
ball gag and smiled at him down at the bottom of the garbage bag. He was a
little crunched up with his head on his chest but surprisingly he actually fit
in this huge bag. I rustled the bag down past his head and said, “Open wide! I
don’t want any unnecessary noise coming from the garbage tonight.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Back to the Trashcan</title><link>/stories/2006/08/09/back-to-the-trashcan/</link><pubDate>Wed, 09 Aug 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/08/09/back-to-the-trashcan/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I had thought of everything, I was very thorough in my preparations. The
dumpster would be delivered on Thursday afternoon, and would stay till
Wednesday evening, around 3:00-4:00pm. I would have time to play my games
inside the dumpster all that time. I had gone to the store and gotten 55
gallon trashcan liners, the heavy reinforced ones, two boxes. My house was
full of old things to throw out, but I took the last four months looking for
garbage that I could stuff into the dumpster and not get hurt by.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Belinda's Garbage Run</title><link>/stories/2006/03/31/belindas-garbage-run/</link><pubDate>Fri, 31 Mar 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/03/31/belindas-garbage-run/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It
must have been about seven thirty in the morning when she walked out the door
wearing her wetsuit, it clung to her lean body like a second skin keeping her
warm in the September sun. She walked across the parking lot of her apartment
complex, past her car, past the trees and the walkway. She then stopped and
opened a door on the Dumpster, and tried to push her bag of trash into it. It
was near full and reluctant to take it, but she persisted.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Special Delivery 6: And So To Bed</title><link>/stories/2006/03/09/special-delivery-6-and-so-to-bed/</link><pubDate>Thu, 09 Mar 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/03/09/special-delivery-6-and-so-to-bed/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="special_delivery5.html"&gt;part 5&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 6: And So To Bed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As she lay back in the bath, she reflected on the day. It had gone well,
and she had gained more of his confidence. Yes, she had been bridled and
bitted and then blown up in a rubber ball, but somehow she had not found
it so terrible. She had genuinely enjoyed the sensation of being a pony,
feeling the commands of the reins through her bit and trusting him as she
ran, completely blind. Even the rubber ball was not so terrible, she trusted
him that he would release her and after the initial nerves, she drifted
off, almost as if in the womb. These feelings on the one hand worried her,
and on the other quite excited her. She was smart enough to analyse the
fact that she was not now the woman she once was, or would ever be again.
She was more attuned to her sexuality, and certainly much more adventurous.
He had opened up something within her and like Pandora’s box it couldn’t
be put back.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mama's Little Sucker (The happy version)</title><link>/stories/2005/10/19/mamas-little-sucker-the-happy-version/</link><pubDate>Wed, 19 Oct 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/10/19/mamas-little-sucker-the-happy-version/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;For as long as mankind can remember, eating has evolved from a simple
means of survival to an art-form. But evolution has a funny way of changing
it&amp;rsquo;s course. For there is coming a time when eating will be more than a
Platable pleasure, but a pleasureable punishment. Huh&amp;mdash;? you say&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well allow me to explain,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A few years back there was a family&amp;hellip; the Carters. They were no different
than any other family of the 90&amp;rsquo;s. There was Betty Carter (48), a single
working mom of two children, Jimmy (16) and Sarah (20). Ms. Carter was
a spritefull woman for her age and fairly attractive. She had shoulder-length
dusty-blonde hair, was slim and fit, with a sharp mousy nose. She was a
hard-worker and would often times come home 3-4 hours late.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Librarian 3</title><link>/stories/2005/07/25/the-librarian-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 25 Jul 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/07/25/the-librarian-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continues from &lt;a href="the_librarian2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Lovely blue skys and the sounds of birds and wind greeted her eyes
as she opened them. She blinked a moment before she realized she was still
watching a fantasy hatched from her own mind.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Trixxie. What time is it?” she moaned, finding her body unbound and
finally struggling into what felt like a sitting position.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;lt;: it is currently 08:04:27 hours T-3. Subliminal training exercise
complete. I hope to interact with you again soon T-3. :&amp;gt; replied the computer
smoothly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Self Bondage with an Air Mattress</title><link>/stories/2004/11/15/self-bondage-with-an-air-mattress/</link><pubDate>Mon, 15 Nov 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/11/15/self-bondage-with-an-air-mattress/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;You might be wondering what this is about, hehe. I decided that today
I would in my roommates absence, give myself some long over due fun of
a different kind. For a long while I have enjoyed the pleasure of self
bondage with an air mattress, which I find both relaxing and very inescapable.
I first got the idea off of Gromet&amp;rsquo;s Forum, where a chat was going on about
how to go about it, and this lead me to the following&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fortieth Birthday</title><link>/stories/2004/04/10/fortieth-birthday/</link><pubDate>Sat, 10 Apr 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/04/10/fortieth-birthday/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Susan awoke at the sun shining into her bedroom. The sound of nature
found it&amp;rsquo;s way through her window screen. She peeled the sheet from her
naked body. Her bare feet touched the hardwood floor as she walked across
the bedroom and down the stairs. Her sense of smell was greeted by the
freshly brewed coffee courtesy of the remote control coffee pot. She poured
herself a cup of coffee and walked outside onto the secluded deck and sat
down on a lounge chair. She sipped the coffee and let out a sigh. Her first
cigarette of the day found it&amp;rsquo;s way to her mouth. The sun radiated it&amp;rsquo;s
warm rays on her naked body. She looked at her body and said &amp;ldquo;Happy 40th
birthday you old bag. You still look pretty darn good for an old lady&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Spare Room</title><link>/stories/2002/09/12/the-spare-room/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Sep 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/09/12/the-spare-room/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The
True Story Of 24 Hours In Self-Imposed Bondage.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Background&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Don’s job had taken him interstate for the week. He rang me at work on Thursday and told me that he now wouldn’t be back until very late on Friday evening. That was a pity as I had all of Friday off. The period from when I left work on the Thursday evening until Don got home just before midnight the next day turned out to be one that I’ll never forget. A full day is a long time to be stuck in bondage – especially when you brought it on yourself. So I’ve decided to write down a warts-and-all account of what it’s really like to be tied up for 24 hours. So read on.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sticky Mess</title><link>/stories/2000/09/01/sticky-mess/</link><pubDate>Fri, 01 Sep 2000 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2000/09/01/sticky-mess/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I wheeled the shopping cart through the supermarket
aisle and the idea hit me. Like a ton of bricks knocking my thoughts into
my next self-bondage ordeal. I hurried pushing the cart through aisle after
aisle until I reached my destination. There towering above me on the shelf
was my next item I would use in captivity. I quickly and carefully grabbed
four gallon bottles of the thick clear shiny fluid and placed them in the
shopping cart and off I went to the check out lanes. The ideas were popping
in and out of my head like fireworks on the fourth of July. I raced to
the car and hurried home as all my plans were becoming crystal clear.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A 'Birthday' Treat!</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/a-birthday-treat/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/a-birthday-treat/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Our new friend Mei had never heard of BDSM play with plastic garbage bags before, but she&amp;rsquo;s taken to it like a duck to water, to the point where she&amp;rsquo;ll make herself a trash bag dress to wear even when we&amp;rsquo;re doing completely unrelated kinky activities. (Do I mind? Heck no!)
The other day when I came home from work, I found Mei and Azure tangled up naked on the bed playing around together, and I made the mistake of teasing them about it&amp;hellip; almost before I knew what was going on, they had me naked and bound, and the black plastic was being zipped shut over my head. They proceeded to go on with what they&amp;rsquo;d been doing, as I lay there helpless and able only to listen. That was one of the most erotic afternoons I&amp;rsquo;ve had in some time, especially since they&amp;rsquo;d fondle and tease me during their breaks!
But the post I&amp;rsquo;ve been promising is about a few weekends ago, when Mei threw me a birthday party early on a Saturday afternoon. The fact that it wasn&amp;rsquo;t my birthday didn&amp;rsquo;t seem to slow her down a bit; when I came into the play room, the table had a few presents and was covered in whipped cream pies, frosted sheet cakes, cans of pudding, and much more. I opened my presents, but Mei decided she was very cross with me when I admitted that I hadn&amp;rsquo;t gotten around to inviting anyone else to a party I hadn&amp;rsquo;t even been aware of :)
She brought out the little PVC frame I&amp;rsquo;d used on sirgirlie, and soon I was sitting in the middle of it in the depths of a 55-gallon trash bag. Mei wasted little time covering me with every single one of the desserts she had laid out - I must have been eight inches deep in the stuff when she was done. (This, too, was her first messy play scene, and she enjoyed it so much that she&amp;rsquo;s eager for some turnaround as soon as we can set it up.) Soon, satisfied with her work, she found a zip-tie and sealed me up tightly in what she merrily called my &amp;ldquo;plastic prison&amp;rdquo;.
Now, I assumed she&amp;rsquo;d leave me in there for a while, teasing me a bit and possibly even using me once or twice, and that&amp;rsquo;s exactly what happened. But after about a half-hour of this, to my surprise I heard another bag being shaken out, as she told me there were too many little holes in my bag now and she didn&amp;rsquo;t want to clean up a mess. Mei rolled me back and forth, and from side to side, as she slipped not one but two more bags around me and tied them both off. I did have air holes, but I couldn&amp;rsquo;t help but hope that they remained properly lined up through all those layers!
Then, I heard a sound I couldn&amp;rsquo;t believe. The front door opened, and I heard the hollow rattling sound of the big blue recycling can being wheeled into the play room. I&amp;rsquo;d told Mei what I did to Girlie a few weeks ago, but I hadn&amp;rsquo;t even suggested to her that we should do that scene together. And yet, I heard the noise of a couple bags of padding being tossed into the bottom, then the sound of the can being laid on its side so she could slide me in!
Now, a confession. Getting an adult human being into a four-foot-tall garbage can is not as easy as the stories say, especially when said adult isn&amp;rsquo;t especially small. I had some trouble with my Girlie, and Mei put forth considerable time and effort to do it to me. She later confessed that next time, she&amp;rsquo;s probably going to want the help of another top. But eventually she got me in, and tossed a few more bags in on top of me to get me the full effect&amp;hellip; and soon I felt the rough bounces of the can going down the front porch steps!
The rush of endorphins was unbelievable. I certainly couldn&amp;rsquo;t move in there&amp;hellip; I could breathe fine, but not quite comfortable&amp;hellip; and soon I felt the sun beating down on the plastic can lid, and the black plastic around me soaking up heat. I couldn&amp;rsquo;t sense Mei around anywhere - I couldn&amp;rsquo;t doubt she was nearby, but it was easy to imagine that she wasn&amp;rsquo;t - that she was back in the house, resting on the couch and maybe watching TV as she left me to my fate. Cars drove by, and I feared to even wiggle too much in case I should somehow be seen.
There&amp;rsquo;s not much more detail to tell. Mei says I was out there for over 45 minutes, and I will say that I could move just enough to give myself a powerful, earth-shattering treat, the afterglow of which lasted long after she finally retrieved me. Though she got me back to the steps, she was too worn out to get the can back up them, and I was so shaky from the cramping and endorphins that I couldn&amp;rsquo;t even stand up. We got me out and in the front door, and dragged me to the shower where I could start washing all the mess off, and slowly regained the use of my legs. There was quite a lot of cleanup to do afterwards, I&amp;rsquo;m afraid&amp;hellip; the can still has chocolate smears all over it&amp;hellip; but I was grinning too much to care.
So that&amp;rsquo;s my story of my first trip to the curb. I think there&amp;rsquo;s a very good chance that it won&amp;rsquo;t be my last.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Special Gift 2: The Good Purpose</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/a-special-gift-2-the-good-purpose/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/a-special-gift-2-the-good-purpose/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="specialgift.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Special Gift&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: The Good Purpose&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Two days had passed since my transformation into a pig doll. It was a permanent transformation and that meant there was no way back. Although I was still a bit worried about that. But I felt honoured to be the first person, who&amp;rsquo;d volunteered to be transformed into a doll.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Paul fetched me almost an hour after my transformation. He was really pleased and looked a for a long time over my new form in the box. He opened the box for a short moment to plant a soft kiss onto my forehead. Then he closed the box again and disappeared with Janine into another room. All I could do, was to wait and hope, I&amp;rsquo;d not get too bored until something interesting would happen.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Alice &amp; Amanda 3: Mistress Amanda</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/alice-amanda-3-mistress-amanda/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/alice-amanda-3-mistress-amanda/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="alice_amanda2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alice &amp;amp; Amanda 2: Living Together&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;_&lt;a href="alice_amanda2.html"&gt;continues from part 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3: Mistress Amanda&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I woke up to the distinct sound of handcuffs being clicked in place. It took me a moment to realize that they were my hands being firmly locked behind my back with expert handling. And the moment I realized it, a bolt of excitement shot through my body. Today was my turn to be submissive to Amanda and I had been looking for this for quite some while. The last two times it was my turn had to be postponed because the first time I was sick and then some uninvited guests showed up on our door. It wasn&amp;rsquo;t a pleasant surprise although we were happy to see our friends, but it took a lot of panicky hiding of some unsocial items, ready for our day of fun and games.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Britney’s Bagging</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/britneys-bagging/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/britneys-bagging/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: First Time&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Britney realized her submissive side early in life and was equally fortunate when her best friend Julie playfully dominated her one night during a sleepover. By high school Britney was regularly catering to her future owner’s needs, carrying her books, cleaning her locker, washing her car dressed in whatever getup she desired and making sure her more personal needs were met. Julie’s parent were quite well off, so it was easy for her to get her future slave inappropriate clothing for a high school teenager. By their senior year she had became her full time slave.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Finding the Right Trash Mistress</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/finding-the-right-trash-mistress/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/finding-the-right-trash-mistress/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was a hot spring day and I was walking around with my back pack on a short sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts. Inside my pack I had water, black bin liners, duct tape, and an extra pair of clothes. I was planning a day for myself to be quite interesting and had to come prepared for anything that could happen. My plan was to bag myself in someone&amp;rsquo;s trash and get discovered and see how they would react&amp;hellip; this way I would know if they were willing to play or not&amp;hellip;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Finding the Right Trash Mistress 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/finding-the-right-trash-mistress-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/finding-the-right-trash-mistress-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="findingtherighttrashmistress.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finding the Right Trash Mistress&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The last time was when the packer was taking me and the trash into the belly of the truck and the trash men were going about their day, to finish loading the truck to haul off to the land fill&amp;hellip;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My newly found trash Mistress was so hot by the events that transpired she was wet between her legs for hours after. She decided that it was in her best interest to follow the truck to its destination, she had found in me the same thing that I had found in her, a playmate to discover just how power and control can effect someone. She loved to be in control and I loved being helpless to let her do what she wanted&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Finding the Right Trash Mistress 3</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/finding-the-right-trash-mistress-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/finding-the-right-trash-mistress-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="findingtherighttrashmistress2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finding the Right Trash Mistress 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was two weeks one day when I returned to her house. I was greeted by her at the door and she was stern with me!
&amp;ldquo;I told you to return in two weeks! You are one day late! So you will have to endure one week of my punishment!&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;I was not able to come yesterday for I was trying to get my work schedule aligned with our time and it was looking like I was not going to get the time needed yesterday!&amp;rdquo; I pleaded with her with no avail.
&amp;ldquo;You will meet me by the garage naked, and I hope you brought all the supplies I requested on the list I put in your pack before you left!&amp;rdquo; she was looking stunning in her black yoga pants, and tight tank top.
&amp;ldquo;I did grab all that you requested and have everything in a duffle bag in the car.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Finding the Right Trash Mistress 4</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/finding-the-right-trash-mistress-4/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/finding-the-right-trash-mistress-4/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="findingtherighttrashmistress3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finding the Right Trash Mistress 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I was now sitting in my Mistresses trash can covered in trash and she told me that I was going to be in here for a week.
I was now very hot in the warm hot sun beaming down on the can which heated the trash around me. She had a few more helpful guests arrive and open the lid and dump in trash, to discover me sitting in filth. They like her turned and just emptied the trash atop of me and then returned the lid to closed each time replacing the lock which sealed me inside.
I heard my Mistress talking, &amp;ldquo;He is no longer to be looked at as human, he is now trash and will become what he is at the end of the week. I am sure that we can place him in the compactor and then just dump the produce waste in and push the button. I will discuss what time when I talk to my friend at the store. She will have the bin picked up two days after we compact his ass which will give it the time to understand that I will not tolerate how I have had to change my plans due to it being late!&amp;rdquo;
This was exciting, and I started to grow and had no way to touch myself due to my hands being attached to my ankles. I knew right then that she meant what she said, &amp;ldquo;You have made me change my plans which was a waste of my time!&amp;rdquo; I also knew that my can would be awful full at the end of the week.
The week went by fast as the lid was opened and closed many times and more waste was put in with me. I heard my Mistress unlock the lid, &amp;ldquo;Today is garbage day!&amp;rdquo; as she smiled and turned her head due to the smell from inside my can. &amp;ldquo;I must tie off the top of the bags and place this can in my truck bed to take to the store. My friend has been gracious enough to place my trash in her compactor at work. All sorts of wet waste and stuff gets packed in there and I will not have to worry about my trash anymore!&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;My friend has seen what trash you are and she has saved lots of good bags of stuff to make the experience more like what happens to trash. I will be able to fill the hopper right up and then push the button to watch as it pushes the trash flat inside the bin, reload the hopper again and watch as my trash disappears!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Gai-Shift - Snowbound Chapter 2: Cossacks</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/gai-shift-snowbound-chapter-2-cossacks/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/gai-shift-snowbound-chapter-2-cossacks/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="gaishift_snowbound1.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gai-Shift - Snowbound Chapter 1: Petra&amp;rsquo;s Homecoming&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;To understand the Gai Shift &amp;amp; to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="gai_shift.html"&gt;Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
Continued from &lt;a href="gaishift_snowbound1.html"&gt;Part One&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 2: Cossacks&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;They came for her the next day, a staggered line of rough horsewomen garbed in chapped pants and goat-fur vests. Their dirty and cruel faces, traced with Mongol heritage, smirked down from beneath greasy cylindrical caps.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Julie's Trash Time</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/julies-trash-time/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/julies-trash-time/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Julie stands in the kitchen next to the full trashcan as her roommate Audrey unleashes her anger. Not doing her chores, not contributing to the household, Julie is not listening as the tirade continues, she’s heard this all before.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It wasn’t Julies fault. Well, it was, putting out the trash for collection is her chore. Julie had done it again, sitting in a chair staring into the last few days’ kitchen waste deep in fantasy. She had simply lost track of the time.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Julie's Trash Time 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/julies-trash-time-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/julies-trash-time-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="juliestrashtime.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julie&amp;rsquo;s Trash Time&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Continues from &lt;a href="juliestrashtime.html"&gt;part 1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Julie and Audrey sit at the kitchen table over coffee while Julie tells the story of the obelisk and how it turns her into trash. Audrey believes her roommate’s story is rubbish. At least they’re both talking garbage.
Julie offers to demonstrate. She sits on the kitchen counter with her legs dangling in the trashcan and puts the obelisk down next to her. Julie doesn’t want to upset Audrey any more than necessary, she looks around and sees some mail, sets the kitchen timer for one hour and rubs the obelisk. Poof.
Before Audrey’s eyes Julie disappears and in her place is an empty envelope hanging off the edge of the counter. It slides off and drops into the can. Audrey steps close to look inside, the envelope rests in the can on top of a few other items of trash. She can’t believe what she has just seen and sits at the table with her coffee as the timer counts down.
Minute-by-minute Audrey watches as wild thoughts swirl through her mind. The Genie, whether she should mail Julie back to her mother, and what she’ll tell the police when they ask about her missing roommate.
The timer’s dial finally reaches zero and chimes. A few moments later Julie is crouched in the trashcan. Audrey gets up and helps her to step out.
“Okay, I believe you, but why trash?” Audrey said.
“Because I always dreamed of being treated like trash, and now I can be trash, at least for a while. Would you like to try it?” Julie said.
“I don’t want to be trash.” Audrey said.
“You can do whatever you want. Is there anything you’ve always dreamed of?” Julie said.
“Don’t laugh at me, I’ve never told anyone before, but I always imagined being a captured princess like in the movies.” Audrey said.
“Try it, just sit down and think about it, then rub the obelisk.” Julie said.
 Audrey sits in the kitchen chair, closes her eyes for a moment, and rubs the statue. Poof.
“Wow! You look great.” Julie said. Audrey is now dressed in a full length gown of dark green satin with white lace trim on the collar and sleeves and matching silk slippers on her feet. She is also tied to the chair with natural fiber rope. Audrey’s wrists are crossed and tied behind the chair back with rope circling her chest and waist, everything is cinched tight. Her ankles are crossed and tied together in a ladylike fashion and lashed to the crossbar, and a thick white cloth fills her mouth and is tied behind her flowing golden hair.
Audrey, still in shock over her sudden transformation, struggles and moans behind her gag, but the rope gives no quarter. Julie recalls her first experience with the obelisk and quickly leaves the room, returning with a mirror from the bedroom so Audrey can see herself.
It works and Audrey calms down. Julie can tell Audrey is getting comfortable with her situation and maybe even having a fantasy. She leaves Audrey alone to enjoy her private thoughts.
Alone, Audrey’s mind turns the kitchen into a castle room. Outside the window her prince valiantly battles the dragon and will soon rescue his damsel. The hour ends and Audrey finds herself back in her old clothes, the rope and gag gone.
Julie sits on the sofa in their living room anxiously flipping through a magazine waiting to ask Audrey how it was. Audrey is taking a long shower after her first damsel-in-distress experience, really long.
Finally the water shuts off. A few minutes later Audrey bounces into the room in her pink pajamas and hops onto the sofa next to Julie.
“I haven’t seen you this happy in a while.” Julie said.
“That was amazing, thank you.” Audrey said and kisses Julie on the cheek.
“I was thinking we could take turns with it, and when one of us is playing the other could look out for them.” Julie said.
“That sounds great, thank you.” Audrey said.
Several days later the girls have a play date. After receiving her instructions Audrey is ready to assist her roommate during Julie’s turn with the obelisk. Everything is okay as long as it’s part of the game, that’s the most important thing to remember. Audrey waits in the living room while Julie gets ready, then goes in the kitchen.
“Look at this mess, how did cereal spill on the floor?” Audrey said knowing Julie can hear.
Julie doesn’t know exactly what is going to happen, and that’s what she wants. Audrey goes to the hall closet, comes back with the canister vacuum and plugs it in.
“This will make quick work of this mess.” Audrey said and switches on the vacuum.
Julie is whisked up with the brush head and sucked up through a short hose and inside the clear dirt canister, swirls around in the air current then settles to the bottom. The vacuum switches off.
“As long as I have this thing out, I may as well vacuum the rest of the place.” Audrey said.
The vacuum starts and Audrey runs it over the living room carpet, stopping to use the hose attachment on the window sills and upholstery. Julie swirls in the canister as it fills with dust and lint like some crazy cotton candy machine.
Audrey stops the vacuum and takes it to the kitchen.
“Look at all that dirt, guess I should empty it.” Audrey said.
Julie can see Audrey through the clear plastic as she bends over and unsnaps the canister, turns it over in the trashcan and taps it a few times against the side. Julie falls into the bottom of the plastic bag with the rest of the dirt and lint.
“I think I’ll make myself something to eat.” Audrey said.
Audrey makes, eats and cleans up from a quick meal. Along the way empty food packaging and plate scrapings drop into the trashcan and on top of Julie who is gets more excited with each new step.
“This trash looks nasty, I better put it outside.” Audrey said. She gathers up the top of the bag, tied it with a twist tie and pulls it from the trashcan.
Julie can feel herself lifted as Audrey carries her out the back door, drops her into the wheelie bin on the side of the house and slams the lid down. Julie’s orgasm hits as her time ends and she changes back. She lays in the bin for a few long minutes catching her breath before tearing the bag open and climbing out.
Arms embrace Audrey from behind and a wet smelly kiss is planted on her cheek.
“You could have cleaned up first.” Audrey said.
“That was the best time I ever had.” Julie said.
Several days later it is Audrey’s turn. Julie thanks her again for the other day and wishes she could do more for Audrey’s fantasies. They share an embrace and Audrey rubs the obelisk. Poof. Audrey is dressed like an eighteenth century farm woman and tied down to the kitchen table.
Julie is dressed in black topcoat and pants holding a piece of paper and quill pen. She is not sure why but starts demanding Audrey sign over the deed to her ranch. Audrey catches on.
“I’ll never turn over my ranch.” Audrey said.
“Maybe this will change your mind.” Julie said using the quill pen on Audrey’s bare foot.
Audrey screams with laughter and fights her bonds but can’t escape the torture.
“Stop. Stop, please.” Audrey begs.
“Will you sign over your ranch?” Julie said.
“Yes. Anything, I can’t stand it.” Audrey said.
Julie puts the pen in Audrey’s bound hand and holds the paper so she can sign, but the sound of a horse approaching fast stops them both.
“Drat, I’m not through with you yet Widow Audrey.” Julie said and runs from the room.
A few minutes later Julie returns dressed in a white hat and chaps. She unties Audrey’s hands and Audrey sits up on the table and wraps her arms around Julie.
“My hero.” Audrey said. Poof. The fantasy ends and everything is as it was.
Over the next few days Audrey can’t stop thinking about her experience, she can’t wait to do it again. Julie can’t wait either. Finally they get an opportunity to play again, but the girls are so excited neither can remember whose turn it is.
“I’m pretty sure it’s my turn.” Audrey said.
“I think you’re mistaken.” Julie said.
“You could be right, but to be safe I should go next.” Audrey said.
“Yeah, next after me.” Julie said.
Both girls grab the obelisk at the same time. Poof.
The next thing Audrey knows she is tightly hogtied in the trashcan. She tries to call for Julie but the gag filling her mouth doesn’t allow more than a mew to escape her throat. What happened she thinks?
“I don’t know” comes an answer.
“Julie?”
“We can talk with our minds, just think the words and I can hear you.” Julie said.
“I’m tied up in the trashcan, help me.” Audrey said.
“I’m in the trashcan also, I’m the rope you are tied with.” Julie said.
“Then untie me.” Audrey said.
“I can’t, I’m a piece of rope, I can’t move.” Julie said.
“How did this happen?” Audrey said.
“The obelisk must have combined our fantasies when we both touched it.” Julie said.
“I’m covered in garbage, your fantasy is not very nice.” Audrey said.
“Yeah, it would be much better lying on railroad tracks with a train coming.” Julie said.
“Point taken. I didn’t mind when I was throwing you in the trash so I guess I can take it. Now that I’m over the shock I can feel you, it’s like your hugging me.” Audrey said.
“I can feel you too, it’s kind of nice.” Julie said.
“It is nice.” Audrey said.
 Poof. Julie is lying on top of Audrey with her arms and legs hanging over the sides of the trashcan pushing Audrey further down into the garbage.
“Get off of me.” Audrey said.
“I’m trying.” Julie said as she grabs the edge of the kitchen counter for leverage. She pulls herself up about six inches and pushes against the counter to roll out of the trashcan. Audrey senses the cans center of gravity shifting.
“Wait, wait.” Audrey said as the trashcan tilts, then crashes to the floor sending Julie and garbage across the tile.
“We’re going to need a bigger trashcan.” Julie said.
Reaching in head first, Julie grabs Audrey by the waist and pulls, pulls, pulls her free from the bottom of the can. She helps Audrey lean against the kitchen cabinet and they both catch their breath. Just then Julie notices someone standing next to the table.
“Genie!” Julie said, then turns to Audrey. “This is the Genie who gave me the magic obelisk.”
“You’re responsible for this.” Audrey said pointing to her trash covered tiles.
“That makes it unanimous, it’s all my fault, thanks for your support.” Genie said.
“Did you stop by for a visit?” Julie said.
“The obelisk was only meant for one, but somehow you two found a small defect in the magic that allows you to enter each other’s dreams and your excessive draw on the, let’s call it the magic grid, got the attention of the, let’s call them the board of directors, and the chairman, let’s call him Frank Sinatra, demanded I remedy the situation or else, let’s just say you two have become my worst nightmare, that’s why I stopped by.” Genie said.
“You’re going to take back my gift?” Julie said.
“I should be so lucky. You did help me and I owe you a reward, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m taking the old obelisk and leaving you with this new upgrade. It has an 18 Karat gold plated statue mounted on a base of real imitation Italian marble. But wait, there’s more, I’m giving you next gen virtual reality for a richer fantasy experience. And I’m not stopping there, if you call in the next 15 minutes I’ll include open ended magic for free, just pay separate handling.” Genie said.
“What does that mean?” Julie said.
“Let me read you the fine print, when Julie is using the obelisk to play her favorite fantasy, Audrey will be in charge of how long the fantasy lasts. When Audrey is playing, Julie will be in charge. Each of your fantasies will remain your own, but your roommate will decide how long it lasts, even if you are sharing in the other’s fantasy, that’s open ended magic.” Genie said.
“Won’t this overload the magic grid?” Audrey said.
“It was the flaw in the magic that caused the disruption, the new obelisk is created to do everything it does.” Genie said.
“Anything else we should do?” Julie said.
“Have your people call my people, we’ll do lunch.” Genie said.
“Really?” Audrey said.
“No. If this works you’ll never see me again. If this doesn’t work no one will ever see me again. Goodbye.” Genie said and was gone.
“We should try it.” Julie said.
“Fun time is over trash girl, you get the broom and I’ll get the mop.” Audrey said.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Lightening can strike twice or more!</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/lightening-can-strike-twice-or-more/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/lightening-can-strike-twice-or-more/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Tony and Jenny lived what they considered an idyllic life. Tony was 35 years old, 2m tall and good looking, he worked as an Investment banker in the City of London and Jenny was a P.A. to the CEO of a pharmaceutical company based near Paddington in London. She was two years his junior, slim with long auburn hair.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;When they married 5 years ago they bought a small flat in Notting Hill. A couple of years later Tony received a substantial bonus and they decided to move to the country where they purchased a former estate worker’s cottage about 10 miles outside Oxford. Commuting was easy for both of them and the pressures of their work seemed to disappear as they headed home. The cottage had been in need of a serious amount of repair and refurbishment, but now they had a home they were proud of, and it was one they could show off whenever their friends came to stay, which was quite often.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Oops Wrong Bin</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/oops-wrong-bin/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/oops-wrong-bin/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;To set the scene I live in a suburban street by myself, a 32 yr old blonde spinster. I&amp;rsquo;d describe myself as attractive with an athletic figure, blonde shoulder length hair and blue eyes.
I&amp;rsquo;d had various girlfriends over the last few years but none I&amp;rsquo;d like to stick with unfortunately. I knew I was a lesbian from about 16 years of age before that type of thing was widely accepted.
The house next door had been empty for some time but one August morning a removal truck pulled up outside, followed by a small sports car. A young couple were moving in, both in their mid-twenties. I saw him first, around 5ft 6 with slick backed hair and a phone glued to his hand. I went out to introduce myself and welcome them to the area.
&amp;ldquo;Hi there&amp;rdquo; I called out but he barely looked at me before nodding briefly and strutting straight past my extended hand.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Out with the Old</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/out-with-the-old/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/out-with-the-old/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This is an adaptation of a Role-play between der_miner and me (dirty_trashbag_girl).&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prelude&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Julie was an average schoolgirl, 18 years in her final years of school, ever the brightest student. But Julie hid a dark secret about herself from those around her, she fantasised about trash bags and bins.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;One evening, Julie got home early from school. She heard her mother and Father talking about spring cleaning. With Julie&amp;rsquo;s baby brother around the house had got into a terrible state.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>R.A.B.B. Revenge Against Bad Boyfriends 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/r.a.b.b.-revenge-against-bad-boyfriends-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/r.a.b.b.-revenge-against-bad-boyfriends-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="rabb.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;R.A.B.B. Revenge Against Bad Boyfriends&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter Two&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Susan had barely made it back to the kitchen when her friend Patty appeared at the back door. Still naked, Susan hurriedly opened the door and ushered Patty into the warm kitchen.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Hello little boys&amp;rdquo; Patty said with a comfortable smile to the two still shaking and shivering naked bodies in the cages nearby.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Patty approached her old boyfriend Ricky and stared a moment at the still nice hunk of meat between his legs. At half size now, it was still 4 or 5 inches long. Patty reached thru the bars and stroked him just enough to get him arroused and erect, then she pulled her hand back and left him throbbing.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Self Bondage Story</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/self-bondage-story/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/self-bondage-story/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I have practiced self-bondage for years and came across your site.
I am 27 years old, 5-11&amp;quot; female with blonde hair and green eyes, dark
complexion size 34-25-32. Considered attractive by most.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I started my self bondage one day, deciding I needed some good strict
disciplining bondage. I stripped to my b-day suit, and made my preparations.
Out to the garage I went and laid down on the oil stained concrete. I took
the long clothes hanger dowel from the closet and had holes drilled for
the neck position, wrist in back and ankles. I was going to plan
one long posture bar that would make movement completely impossible.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tales of Green Valley</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(Previous Green Valley Tale: &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley6.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tammy gets a Scare&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley 7: Un vieil ami surprend Tammy [An old friend surprises Tammy]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After Tammy&amp;rsquo;s almost last experience, that had almost put a crushing end to her life, not to mention upsetting the boyfriend she lived with, she was being good. She might fantasize about being garbage, but she wasn&amp;rsquo;t going to trick Jack into unknowingly throwing her away again.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In fact, at his insistence, she was going to spend an entire week away from Green Valley. She had boarded the 11 am train and after a quick light lunch at a small bistro nearby, checked into her hotel. Part of a famous chain, the Hillstone was right across the street from a new mall. The mall was the big city&amp;rsquo;s latest attempt to attract people to the business district on weekends and evenings.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tales of Green Valley</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(Previous Green Valley Tale: &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley7.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley 7: An old friend surprises Tammy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley # 8: A VERY messy End&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;[&lt;em&gt;A story written by request, as a HORROR STORY! Do not read this unless you have a very strong stomach. FF/f, willing trash, but horrible events and results including HARD vore and DEATH.&lt;/em&gt;]&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jane was 23, she should have graduated college last June and had told her parents she had. She also said she had found a job locally and would not be coming home. In reality, she had dropped out of college two years earlier and had been working as a waitress at some local places. She had her own apartment, in West End, the poorer industrial part of a big city in Colorado. Her wages barely paid the bills and she had resorted to making a few extra dollars selling herself for the customers to fuck in the storeroom at her last job. Unfortunately, this led to being caught and fired.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tales of Green Valley</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(Previous Green Valley Tale: &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley8.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley 8: A Very Messy End&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley #9: Trash takes a Vacation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Trash is fully recovered from whatever forced him to take a sick day and miss the chance to play with Tammy. He talked to her a couple of days later, after she was back home, her ass was still smarting from the spanking Jack had given her when he had been called to the transfer station to retrieve her after Jimmy had pulled her out of the big compactor. Tammy told Trash she would have to stop playing in the trash, or with him or Jack would, as he put it, leave her in the hands of Tamarra, with no restrictions on what happened.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tales of Green Valley</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(Previous Green Valley Tale: &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley10.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley 10: If you knew Tammy&amp;hellip;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley # 11: Fond Memories&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;em&gt;[ This is the second rare one of four stories from RL, only the names have been changed.. ]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Lots of things were changing in Green Valley! I sat on the couch in my house, ok, Jack’s house reading the GV Blog on my tablet and learned how the old Hotel Heaven had been taken over and remodeled. It now had a DANCE CLUB! Some place called Starfields, apparently a modern sound and lighting system in a sort of 50’s Sci-Fi setting with a really complex DJ booth. The whole hotel had been updated inside to look like some of the big chain ones outside the Valley. A well know chain had actually been hired as consultants in the remodeling.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tales of Green Valley</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(Previous Green Valley Tale: &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley11.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley 11: Fond Memories&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley # 12: Just Walking Home&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;em&gt;[Inspired by a new friend named Willie]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Tammy was walking home from the office. As she turned the corner by the new dance club and headed downhill alongside the little hotel, across the street she noticed the bank was closed. In fact the cleaners and all the other stores were dark. Only the coin laundry was lighted. Since it was almost 6 pm, with the time change, it was already dark. Here in the Valley it always got dark early in the mountain shadows, but now that it was November, night fell really early and it was pitch black. There were no street lights on this hill leading down to the apartments and houses, and if not for the almost full moon, she would have needed the flashlight to stay on the sidewalk.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tales of Green Valley</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(Previous Green Valley Tale: &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley13.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley 13: Last Halloween&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley # 14: More Memories&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;[ This story is one year after &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley11.html"&gt;#11 “Fond Memories&lt;/a&gt;” This is another story from RL about a year ago and fictionalized a bit. It does not take place in Green Valley and my kinky neighbors don’t have a hot tub - yet. And the names have been changed.. ]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The doorbell ran at my home on Friday night at about 8 pm. I wasn&amp;rsquo;t expecting anyone but I figured it was a neighbor inviting me to come over for a beer. I hoped it was the young couple with the new hot tub. I just love their clothing optional house rules. Now I may be 37 and they are both about 10 years younger, but I do enjoy the way he comes to attention when I strip and get in that tub. His girlfriend usually ducks under water to suck him off, just to prevent him from inviting me to cum sit on his lap.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tales of Green Valley</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(Previous Green Valley Tale: &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley9.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley 9: Trash takes a Vacation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley # 10: If you knew Tammy&amp;hellip;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;em&gt;[ This is a rare one, the first of four stories from RL, only the names have been changed.. ]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Paul Macloud lived in the big city where he had gone to college. He had average grades as business major. He had an average job and an average salary. He drove a 4 year old car and voted like all his neighbors. His girlfriend was, well, average. Paul was bored with his life.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tales of Green Valley 15: Surprise Party</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley-15-surprise-party/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tales-of-green-valley-15-surprise-party/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(Previous Green Valley Tale: &lt;a href="talesofgreenvalley14.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley 14: More Memories&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tales of Green Valley # 15: Surprise Party&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;em&gt;(NB: It does not take place in Green Valley, could be anywhere.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The party started at 9pm and I was just finishing dressing when my doorbell rang. Bill and Susan had come to pick me up. Bill smiled when he saw me in the skimpy bikini top and the really short skirt and dared me to turn around and bend over. I laughed and proved his guess was right - no panties and bending over, with my legs spread apart gave him a great view of my pussy. He reached forward and slipped a finger right inside me. “I see you are already for the party,” he said as Susan grabbed his hand and sucked my juices from his finger.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>That New Car Smell Part 1: Veronica’s New Car Experience</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/that-new-car-smell-part-1-veronicas-new-car-experience/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/that-new-car-smell-part-1-veronicas-new-car-experience/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Part 1: Veronica’s New Car Experience&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Today was the big day.  Veronica had been back to the dealership a dozen times selecting the model, color options, haggling over rim choice and every detail.  Her old beater car that she had been driving all through high school and most of college was ready to retire and Veronica was treating herself to a new one.  Her old faithful finally sold on Friday and combined with a bunch of old junk she had recently sold on E-bay, she was hitching a ride with her roommate to drive away in her new set of wheels.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>That New Car Smell Part 2: No Free Ride to the Dealership</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/that-new-car-smell-part-2-no-free-ride-to-the-dealership/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/that-new-car-smell-part-2-no-free-ride-to-the-dealership/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="thatnewcarsmell.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That New Car Smell Part 1: Veronica’s New Car Experience&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 2: No Free Ride to the Dealership&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Veronica was in a panic. She had no idea it was pick up time. The garbage men seemed to be on a strict routine and were never more then a couple minutes off schedule. That could only mean she had been in the disgusting dungeon for over an hour while looking for her receipts. She tried to scream for the Sanitation Engineer to help her. However the heavyset man had his I-Pod on under his OSHA approved hearing protection and was oblivious to the woman screaming inside. Before hooking onto the bin, he activated the compactor one last time to minimize the amount of garbage that would fall out of the trailer during transit.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>That New Car Smell Part 3: The Return Home</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/that-new-car-smell-part-3-the-return-home/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/that-new-car-smell-part-3-the-return-home/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="thatnewcarsmell2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That New Car Smell Part 2: No Free Ride to the Dealership&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 3: The Return Home&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was now late in the day Thursday night, although she no idea of the date or time. Her head was still a fog and hadn’t eaten in forever. Her body was still badly battered under all of the other tortures and now she had to escape the garbage pit and endure untold humiliations to find her way home. One leg was unable to bend and both feet extremely clumsily as she plodded along with heavy buckets attached to them both. She made it to the edge of the pit; then lost her balance and tumbled down the edge to the bottom of the tall gently sloped hill.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Progression of Things</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-progression-of-things/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-progression-of-things/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My girlfriend has known for some time that I enjoy being tied up. I really enjoy the feeling of plastic next to my skin so I was able to encourage her to wrap me up with plastic food wrap. This of course leads to all sorts of fun and interesting activities. We added different routines to our extracurricular activities such as gags, cock-rings, etc. To my surprise one night, after she had wrapped me up, instead of using her panties, sock or a bag to gag me with she produced what I can only describe as a gag-dildo. Wow what a night.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Sorority Trashing Part 1: The Way It All Began</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-sorority-trashing-part-1-the-way-it-all-began/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-sorority-trashing-part-1-the-way-it-all-began/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: The Way It All Began&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s starting to get hot and the smell of all these soiled diapers is making me sick. I&amp;rsquo;m bound in a 95-gallon trash bag at the bottom of a 6 cubic yard rollaway dumpster in the back of a sorority house. My arms and legs are bound with handcuffs, the modified ring gag holds my mouth open, and for the first time I&amp;rsquo;m scared that Haley is going to go through with her threat.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Trash Wife</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-trash-wife/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-trash-wife/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;First I have to tell you that I really, really love bondage, my husband also likes to tie me up and I like being tied up by him, it is something that I never expected to happen, well not until I met my husband that is and we began experimenting. I found out that I really like my bondage when I’m tied up helplessly and left bound for an extended period of time, I like to call it ‘stewing’ left to slowly simmer away, not necessarily climaxing or even being teased and tormented, but left bound as little more than an object.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Trash Wife 2: My Reward</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-trash-wife-2-my-reward/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-trash-wife-2-my-reward/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="trashwife.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Trash Wife&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: My Reward&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The week had been particularly stressful, the business we run has had several large orders to complete in a hurry, this involved a lot of hours and work from the people we employ and me as the accounts manager responsible for all the paperwork side. Great for the company - but a busy time for me.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I managed to get the paperwork done by Friday lunchtime and the orders were shipped that day to the clients, I was pleased that everything went smoothly and now that the orders were done we could go home. All the staff were happy when I told them that they could go once the orders were shipped, so most of the staff took off with the last one leaving about 3pm.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 2: The Training of a Trash Whore</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-2-the-training-of-a-trash-whore/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-2-the-training-of-a-trash-whore/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="trashyadventuresofdavidchristine.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 1: Trashing her Worthless Boyfriend&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Book 2: The Training of a Trash Whore&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I learned three things while in the back of that truck with Jennifer.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;One, Trash sex is the best sex. I&amp;rsquo;ve never had so much sex in one sitting, and Jennifer made sure I was put to good use. From suffocating me in garbage while she used a strap on, to making me wear a diaper full of garbage, Jennifer knew how to keep things interesting.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 3: Jennifer's Revenge</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-3-jennifers-revenge/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-3-jennifers-revenge/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="trashyadventuresofdavidchristine2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 2: The Training of a Trash Whore&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Book 3: Jennifer&amp;rsquo;s Revenge&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;David? Hey, earth to David?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The slightly older girl waves her hand in front of my face and I snap back to reality, startled out of my reverie. I turn to look at her and smile sheepishly, a little embarrassed at having spaced out. The woman is in a blue nurses uniform, much like the rest of us, with long blonde hair pulled up into a pony tail. Kinda cute, but no match for my Christine.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 4: Christine's Party</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-4-christines-party/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-4-christines-party/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="trashyadventuresofdavidchristine3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 3: Jennifer&amp;rsquo;s Revenge&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Book 4: Christine&amp;rsquo;s Party&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;David, can you take take out the trash for me before we go?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I look up from my spot on the couch, instantly setting my newspaper down. Within moments, the rather heavy cans of garbage are on the curb. I stand there a moment, reminiscening about the time I was amongst those cans.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Oh what an experience.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tightly Bound Bride</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tightly-bound-bride/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tightly-bound-bride/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="tightly_bound_bride12.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tightly Bound Bride&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Thirteen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Mary
could tell by the position of the sun that is was almost 6:00 in the evening. 
“Good,” she thought to herself, shrugging the ache from her neck and shoulders. 
Today had been “silver day”, one of her less favorite chores.  The
household had hundreds of pounds of sterling silver&amp;ndash;tableware, tea services,
platters and candlesticks&amp;ndash;and once a month it was her task to clean them. 
She would be dressed in a tight corset and her gray, functional maid’s
outfit.  An immense harness ballgag would be wedged between her teeth,
and her lacy maid’s hat would be placed upon her blond head.  She
would be collared, and lead down to the pantry, where she would be perched
on a hard, uncomfortable stool.  Her ankles would be cuffed together,
with a short chain threaded through the rungs of the stool.  So as
not to scratch the silver, her wrists could not be cuffed.  Instead
a leather belt was locked around her corseted waist.  There were rings
on either side of the belt.  Leather cuffs were locked around each
upper arm just above the elbows, and these cuffs were locked to the ring
on the belt, keeping her elbows tightly against her sides.  There
was enough room to reach the silver piled in front of her on the table,
but not enough to reach the lock on her gag, or ankles.  Mary sighed
when she saw the huge pile of silver that she was expected to polish to
a brilliant shine before the end of the day.  Next to the silver was
a giant economy sizes bottle of silver polish, and a pile of clean, soft
rags.  Reaching for the first piece, she began her task at a brisk
pace.  She was allowed a short break mid-morning and afternoon, and
was un-gagged for ten minutes to drink a bowl of thin, tasteless soup for
lunch.  With the constriction of the corset, she couldn’t eat much
anyway!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trapped in the Dumpster 5: Playtime at the Beach</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/trapped-in-the-dumpster-5-playtime-at-the-beach/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/trapped-in-the-dumpster-5-playtime-at-the-beach/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="trappedinthedumpster4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trapped in the Dumpster 4: The First Playtime&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Thanks to Doctor Vader for his helping hand. Continued from &lt;a href="trappedinthedumpster4.html"&gt;Part Four&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 5: Playtime at the Beach&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Our first playtime was amazing. Not because I blacked out as he took care of my mouth. It was because he showed me, how much fun it could for my skin to be wet and slippery all over, inside a trash bag. Sure, by the time I got out, I was very thirsty from the near to the full powered heater. And the vibrator didn&amp;rsquo;t pleasure me enough to make me cum. He only used it to keep me awake and make me aware of the slipperiness in my bag.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trashed at School</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/trashed-at-school/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/trashed-at-school/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Here I was thinking I was hot stuff. I’d turned 18. I was a senior. I had been accepted to college. There was one month of school left and hell, I was sailing through my final classes. I was invincible. I was eating lunch with my friend when a glob of pudding landed in front of me. Raucous laughter erupted from the other end of the table. I saw one of my classmates still holding the spoon used to catapult it at me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trashy Dom Part 1: Arrival</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/trashy-dom-part-1-arrival/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/trashy-dom-part-1-arrival/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: Arrival&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;No.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The answer came suddenly, almost before Jessica had finished her question. She snapped her mouth closed after she realized her jaw had dropped at being denied so abruptly.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jessica Moon was a reporter for a local magazine in Nappa Valley; she had just finished her degree in journalism and had taken the job with a great deal of excitement. All of that had slowly begun to drift away as she felt that many of the stories she was given were simply being recycled; she found her work to be little more than a gossip rag for the area, but the gossip was so bland it was all but expected. Then she had heard words of a reclusive woman who had one of the larger estates out towards the countryside, a woman who exercised some kind of kinky domination thing.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>What You See is Not Always What You Get Part 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/what-you-see-is-not-always-what-you-get-part-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/what-you-see-is-not-always-what-you-get-part-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="whatyouseeisnotalwayswhatyouget.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What You See is Not Always What You Get&amp;hellip;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part Two&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;How slowly time advances when you are eagerly awaiting it. The few days from our last date to Wednesday seemed to go on forever. Tuesday evening I arrived home from work to find the message light blinking on my answering machine. I prayed that it was not someone trying to sell me a vacuum cleaner&amp;hellip;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Eagerly, but with apprehension, I pushed the button to playback my message. It was DeeDee! Hooray, I thought to myself.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>