Piercings

Chapter 8 - The Perfect Toy “Violet! I’m back.” I heard the hydraulics of the garage door closing as Master called out. The heavy downpour outside had masked the sound of his return until now. My feet scurried as fast as my precarious stiletto heels would allow. My neck chain jingled noisily as I made my way to the washing room hallway and the entrance from the garage. Master had just taken off his dress shoes and put them away when I arrived. His eyes were exhausted but smiling as he met mine. ...

story continued from part one Part 2 Nina was paralysed with terror. Shit, shit, shit! For a while, she couldn’t and didn’t want to believe what had just happened and what it meant for her. She was in deep trouble! Without that key, she stood zero chance of freeing herself and being bound, blindfolded and almost unable to move she would not able to recover it, not even if she had a hundred years and already knew the hiding place of Christian’s hoard – which she did not. Given how she had put on the blindfold, there was no way for her to get it off her head and in this regard she could rely on a rich treasure trove of pertinent experience. She would not be able to operate her smartphone in this state and the locked front door likewise represented an insurmountable obstacle. No one would miss her before Monday and so her only hope was that her parents, colleagues, neighbours or someone else would notice her disappearance and alert the authorities before she died of thirst. Or was it more likely for her to die because of an embolism first? Nina realised that she had begun to hyperventilate and with an effort brought her breathing back under control. Fainting was only a reasonable survival strategy if there was a dashing hero around ready to save the distressed damsel. With some considerable effort she pushed her fear aside and gave in to her rage and anger instead. ...

Part 1 It was time once again. Nina had left for the weekend two hours early because she was certain she would burst if she did not do something about the frustration that had accumulated over the working week. Especially about the sexual frustration: She’d left Robert almost four weeks ago and had not had sex since. It was not the case that no willing partner had offered himself though; on the contrary, there had been no shortage of advances since word had spread that she was ‘on the market again’. If she’d accepted all invitations for coffee, she probably would not have been able to sleep for weeks - the customary fate of an attractive woman working in a predominantly male domain. Then again, nerd biotope would probably be a more apt description; Nina could not fathom why many of her colleagues apparently tried hard to match the characters from ‘The Big Bang Theory’ in both appearance and habitus. Consequently, among her would-be consolers, there had been mostly consolation prizes, and not a single man she would have considered fit to satisfy her very special needs. Those which Robert had satisfied like none before him - and perhaps none after. ...

“Wanted: Tall muscular well-hung man to become the live-in husband for a glamorous crossdresser and a lover for his sexy wife. Please send your details, desires and erect photo” Chapter 1 What could we lose. We didn’t need to go through with it but my wife needed stiff cock now that the hormones were going to emasculate me. For my part, as I was becoming more feminine as every day passed, I needed a man to love and cherish me and to satisfy my changing sexual needs. But, my wife and I were still desperately in love and enjoyed being more than just lesbian girlfriends so we needed a “Ménage à trois ” to satisfy us both. ...

Amy stood in a small alcove off the living room of the huge house. It was the middle of the day. No one else was home. Amy was asleep. Not too long ago it was impossible for her to sleep standing up. But now she nodded off whenever she could. She was tightly fastened to an upright frame made of hand-carved mahogany. She stood at attention, on tiptoe, unable to move much of anything. ...

Part 1 0 - 0 - 0 - 0:28 “Some people are winners and some are losers. That’s just the way that it is,” Hank thought as he stacked the last of the scaffolding into the back of the truck. “Best to always take action to make sure you are the winner.” He added another fabricated fuel log to the trucks burner and tightened the steam valve on the piston compartment. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in arrest, injury or death. Kitsune F Alexander M/f; kidnapped; captive; cell; bond; gag; collar; corset; breast; piercings; bells; toys; insert; force; oral; anal; climax; enslave; cons/nc; XX Authors brief warning: this story is a bit dark, but more psychologically than physically. This is a work of fiction; in real life, consent is important, and you should not reenact anything you read without legitimately obtaining it from all other involved parties. ...

2075; the dawning of the nanotechnology era. The Human race could now harness microscopic technology to do their bidding. Doctors used it to cure cancer and heal life-threatening injuries, plastic surgeons used it to offer scalpel-free cosmetic alterations. But with this great power also came those who seek to use it for their own nefarious purpose. Justin, a Nanotech programmer, had been fired several years ago for “workplace misconduct”. In his opinion, if the boss’s wife wanted it up the ass in the copy room there was not much you could do besides obey. Since then he had found a much more lucrative source of income. ...

The massive door closed behind her with a soft click, shutting her out from the plush office. She was dismissed. She had just been told to search for ’new challenges’ outside the company. Or more aptly put, she had been sacked. Alice took a deep breath to get a grip on her rage. Thankfully, the anteroom was empty, her boss’s, correction, former boss’s assistant having momentarily abandoned her fortified post behind the massive desk facing the entrance. Alice was grateful for the opportunity to regain her composure. She did not want to face her (as of now former) colleagues in a troubled emotional state, heck, she did not want to face them at all. She dreaded the thinly veiled schadenfreude of her rivals, who preferred to attribute her quick rise up the corporate ladder to her looks instead of her performance, and the palpable relief of her less intellectually gifted colleagues, glad at having been spared themselves. But most of all she dreaded the pity of the few people in the office she counted as friends. For the last two years, since the untimely death of her parents, she had thrown herself into her work and presented the front of an independent, tough, calculating achiever to the world. Now she feared she might break down, revealing the lonesome and frightened girl that still lurked inside. Better she held on to her rage. ...

Written at a reader’ request. I want to thank Steph for being my muse and collaborator. Loretta Sky scanned the room. She was attending a professional mixer, not that she needed any more contacts. No, she was here looking for a canvas for her newest project. Loretta is a proud lesbian and she wanted a canvas on which she can create a mural to the history of lesbianism. Others had created such murals, but they had done so in a mundane fashion, on fabric, wood, or marble. Not Loretta Sky. She would create her mural on a different canvas. Her canvas would be a woman’s body. ...

So I was on a vacation back home when it happened. I had not been back to my hometown in at least ten years and it was time to visit my family and friends. As with all things over time my hometown had grown and changed, a lot. On my last excursion exploring the old downtown area on Sunday, before leaving to continue my vacation on Monday, I looked in the windows of the old shoe store that was actually still there. What surprised me was that in the window display in addition to the shoes and boots were some custom made halters and other tack for horses. Well this got my attention being that I have and love horses. So I had to go back when they were open on Monday. ...

Julie and Mark had been together for almost five years, they had met at a fetish convention and even though they, at the time, couldn’t see each other’s faces had hit it off and spent the rest of the weekend together and hadn’t been apart since. Julie was a good sub and enjoyed Mark as her dom. Mark loved Julie and her svelte and toned body and long blonde hair but especially loved her almost uncontrollable need to be bound. Julie had always wanted to be a servant, to be forced to do others bidding and through most of her life had been taken advantage of by people who discovered this trait and used her for their own purposes. She always wore fetish attire, most of the time when it really wasn’t appropriate, her tight corsets and skirts with tall heels had gotten her in trouble at work on several occasions and when she wore her neck, wrist and ankle shackle’s her boss didn’t know what to think. ...

The knock came at 7:20. The date was for 7:00, but this was Provence after all. Margo left the couch to answer the door. “Bon jour! Bon Jour! Ca va?” The women did the cheek bump, air kiss thing. “Bien. Bien. Et vous?” “Bien, merci.” Margo noticed the guest’s car glistened with rain, sheltered under the portico. She led the guest through the house. The small villa, normally bright and airy with its many windows and white plaster walls, was plunged into darkness. There was no moon that night and the storm clouds made it all the more black. It was a gentle rain, though. A warm, steady, summer rain. The sound of it pattering on the tin roof over the patio echoed in the living room. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 9: The Boat Ride) Part 10: Latex Dream Jane presented herself, naked, legs spread, her hands clasped behind her neck. The tattoo girl was there, the one from the restaurant. She was holding a foam brush and a paint can. It was latex. Jane didn’t know how she knew that, but she knew. The girl dipped the brush into the can, held it up for a moment, then drew a swath over Jane’s lips. She did it again just below Jane’s nose and another just above her chin. The stuff dried almost instantly and the girl repeated it, three stripes, and then three more. Jane’s lips were sealed - literally. They were no longer lips, plural, they had melded together. Jane knew she would never open her mouth again. ...

CNN “Late Night“ “Still no word on the mysterious disappearance of former ‘Covewatch’ star, Palmera Anderton. Miss Anderton was reported missing two weeks ago. Speculation on her whereabouts range from publicity stunt to alien abduction. A police spokesperson described the investigation as “ongoing”, but would not elaborate. In Business News…” Two Years Later… The two wheeled sulky moved slowly up the narrow, treacherous switchbacks cut into the mountainside. The crisp, clear air was quiet but for the scree of a hawk flying overhead in search of food. Even from a distance, one could see that the power source for the carriage was not the typical burro or yak. This beast of burden was clearly of the two-legged variety. ...

I have always had an interest in bondage since I was a little girl. I had tried all types of scenarios over the years but my next adventure was by far the most challenging. Before I tell you about that I should give you some background about myself I suppose. I am a 28 year old athletic looking brunette with shoulder length hair, 5’10” tall. When I do a self-bondage scene I usually put my hair up in a tight ponytail at the crown of my head. I have several body piercings which no-one knows about. In addition to my double ear piercings, I have both nipples pierced, my navel, a horizontal clit ring and 3 sets of labia piercings. ...

(story continues from Enslaved Part 1: Captured) Part 2: And then there were Three… “WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, BIO-ENDANGERMENT OF CAPTIVE IMMENANT!!!” I woke up to those words thinking oh no now what, I looked around for Mary. I couldn’t find her, then I looked up, there she was, somehow she found a way to make a noose with her bed sheet, then tied it to a rafter up high on the ceiling, she had the noose around her neck and was twitching, suddenly my arm lifted up and there before my eyes I saw the weapon, a tube of small proportions, aimed at her, the comp said that I had one shot and I should take it or loose her life, her life was in my hands. I aimed as best I could, and squeezed my hand. A bolt of light shot out of my tube and burned clean through the bed sheet, she came down hard, and I heard the crunch of breaking bone as she landed on her feet. I rushed to her, noticing that the weapon had recessed back into its housing. I gently lifted her head and removed the noose, her face was covered in burst capillaries, but she was still breathing. ...

The girl drove fast along the empty blacktop road that stretched before her across the desert plain. It had been a hot afternoon, but already the sun was easing West. This was not a working day, but still she watched warily for signs of life in this secluded spot. It would not do to attract interest, not at all; but she had taken further precautions. Her shapely figure was unobtrusive under her loose cotton coverall, her hair coiled beneath a wide-brimmed cowboy hat to further disguise her sex to the casual observer. ...

(story continues from The Bondage Club) Part Two: Sister Slave Chapter 3 Kendall’s sex was completely sore for sitting for several hours on the Sybian with no relief from the low vibrating machine. Worst, was the fact she was unable to have an orgasm though she desperately wanted to. The only semi-relief she had was when another mistress named Kathleen came over for a spell to talk to Amanda. She was beautiful to look at with a small rounded face. Ruby red lips and dark eyes. Her hair was parted on the side and cut into a bob the length of her chin. She had a slender body and wore a micro black leather miniskirt to which Kendall could see from her vantage point she wasn’t wearing any undergarments. Her medium size breasts were also exposed as she wore the frame of a bra but without the cups. Black leather thigh high boots adorned her legs completing her outfit. ...

(story continues from The Bondage Club 2: Sister Slave) Part Three: The Gamble Chapter 4 Still in a blissful high from her recent orgasm, it took Kim a few moments to realize what Mistress Amanda said. “Yes it was wonder…. wait, what did you say?” Turning to face the girl strapped down on the bench, “Kendall?” A flash of recognition suddenly became apparent and she moved towards the bench. “Quick, help me get her up!” The words almost choking out of her. ...

This story is a sequel to The Parade Part 1 His lungs burned as he tried to keep the pace. His legs strained with every stride he took. Everything ached as he ran down the road. “Keep up, don’t quit now.” he thought “It’s just a few yards away.” The sting of the whip against his asscheek broke his thoughts. He lurched forward faster. Kenneth was pushing him even harder than usual. It wasn’t enough that he was pulling both the cart and Kenneth. He was made to run faster and faster and carry the load up and down hills. For Rainbow, each training day was like another. Drills and more drills. Sunrise to sunset and then some. If it wasn’t Kenneth, it was either Jimmy or the stablehand Dusty who would conduct the training. Both of them were just as harsh and just as quick to punish failure. ...