Slaves

story continued from chapter nine Chapter 10: Master’s Humor This is update 4 from my prison Life has definitely settled into a livable routine now. Master rarely beats Jules or me. I can’t even remember the last time he struck me. Of course, I am not counting an occasional spanking or playful session with the riding crop. Those things only cause temporary pain and it only lasts a short time. I suppose that I am a little bit of a pain slut because I actually enjoy an occasional spanking. In addition, the fact that Jules is here with me has made my life so much better. I really do love her very much. We have become very close and I never want us to be apart. I believe that I have found my soul mate in her. ...

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe. continued from part 9 Part 10 Will was holding Andy in his arms as he slowly woke. Andy, his oh, so sweet and gentle Andy. Despite that Andy was a sissy, William had never felt someone so feminine and responsive before. Andy wanted to please Will as much as possible and shared himself without hesitation or guilt. His soft moans as William thrust inside him. His lips gently travelling up and down Will’s shaft; providing hours of pleasure. Where DID Andy learn this? ...

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe. continued from part 7 Part 8 The Board meeting concluded and the only ones left in the room were William, Andy, Bulldyke and Lady Quirt. ...

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe. continued from part 10 Part 11 Lady Quirt wiped her rubber gloved hand across the shelf of the display case and looked at her fingers. There was only a tiny amount of dust. The owner obviously had some pride in the condition of his office. As she looked at the various awards in the case, she noticed that some of these were from well-respected advertising organizations and trade associations, although some years old. ...

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe. continued from part 11 Part 12 Blackness! Horrible, horrible blackness!. The white noise. Unrelenting. Never stopping. Can’t move a muscle. Can’t even speak! It has gone on for how long? Days? Weeks? ...

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe. continued from part 8 Part 9 Bulldyke sat back in the limo’s back seat. She caressed the rubber upholstery. It was soft and slick for it had recently been cleaned and polished. She looked at William and Andrew kneeling on the floor in front of her. She felt a little strange. Lady Quirt had rarely allowed her to assume the dominant role in all the years she had served her. It was going to take a little time to adjust, but she was looking forward to it. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A few final surprises await Walter and Holly at Pond Cove. The saga comes to a close as Walter and Holly return to school… now as teachers. How they get their new teaching positions, who their principals will be, and where they will teach is all discovered in this final chapter of Summer at Pond Cove. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A submissive caterpillar becomes an assertive butterfly. This is a very short chapter, but it did not fit with the previous chapter nor with the next. This is primarily a transition chapter and does not have much in the way of actual sex. It stands on its own, but makes a little more sense if you have read the previous chapters. ...

story continued from chapter five Chapter 6: The Old Man’s Widow Barbeque sauce ran down my chin as I devoured my second beef barbeque sandwich. I sat alone at a table on the patio at Vern’s Brisket and Vine. The sign hanging over the eatery, however, had been replaced with a new sign that read Sally’s BBQ. Beneath the lettering was a profile of a hogtied naked woman wearing a ball-gag. Opposite her was the profile of a roasted pig with an apple in its mouth. For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why this was considered sexy. It almost gave me a ‘Sweeney Todd’ cannibalism vibe. Nonetheless, it didn’t have any affect on my appetite. Once my second sandwich was gone, I washed it down with the rest of the beer from my frosted mug. ...

story continued from chapter six Chapter 7: Delta November Foxtrot I was awoken to sound of the loud cheering outside my window. I blinked as bright morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, causing me to squint and bury my head beneath the blankets. My copy of ‘A Comprehensive Guide to Slave Ownership’ rested propped-open on the nightstand and a half-eaten box of Hawaiian pizza sat on top of the covers next to me. It had been a long night of studying and pizza happened to be the brain-food that I required to stay focused. Hey- while my metabolism still worked, I might as well take advantage of eating what I liked. ...

story continued from chapter four Chapter 5: Pop Quiz I woke up to the sound of knocking on my bedroom door. Still hallway asleep, I ignored it and buried my face into the covers. More knocks on the door followed. “Miss McConnell?” A voice asked. Disoriented, I groaned, and turned my head toward the voice. I squinted from the sunlight that was pouring through the windows. I was still lying on top of the comforter, exactly where I’d landed the night prior. Standing in the doorway was a woman in a sexy black and white maid outfit. She wore a burgundy choker around her neck. ...

story continued from chapter three Chapter 4: Storming the Castle I awoke to the loud squeal of the subway car as we slowed down. I opened my eyes and squinted through the brightness. I groaned in pain as I straightened up into a seated position. Damn, my muscles were sore! Eric must have laid his camouflage jacket across me while I slept because it slid to the ground as I sat upright. He was facing the opposite direction, staring out the window. I rubbed my eyes and followed his gaze toward the large, well-lit underground subway station we had entered. The platforms were bustling with male guards and hunters dressed in camouflage. Moments later, the train lurched to a full stop and the door slid open. ...

story continued from chapter two Chapter 3: Train of Thought We walked in silence for about a mile until we reached a large clearing. By now, the sun had nearly set. One of the gamesmen raised his walkie-talkie and spoke into it, “Gordon to base- be advised, team is approaching checkpoint 9. Prepare for entry” Then, the man placed the walkie back into his hip holster. Just then, I heard a loud, high-pitched beeping noise up ahead. It almost sounded like the sound a golf-cart makes when put in reverse. Then, I saw it. A large metal cylinder roughly 12 feet in diameter began rising out of the ground in the middle of the clearing. I stopped in my tracks, unsure of what I was looking at. It continued to ascend until it was about 12 feet into the air. Then the beeping stopped. The gamesmen and rest of the group appeared completely unfazed and continued walking towards the structure. Just another stroll in the woods. ...

Story continues from part one Part Two Day in the Dungeon Master untied us and had us put on our cuffs on our wrist’s and ankle’s. Master dealt with Kim first. “Hand’s behind your back”. “Yes master” said Kim softly. Master grabbed her wrists and locked a small padlock through the D-ring’s in her cuffs. He knelt down and locked a 12"chain between her ankle cuffs and then buckled her ballgag into her mouth. He clipped the lead to her collar and Kim was ready for her journey. ...

Part One Becoming a Bondage Model Hi Jamielee here and this is how i became a bondage model. My husband hated his job and one night in bed i jokingly suggested he could become a bondage photographer as he could combine his passion and get paid for it. Now when i suggested this i thought i would get the job as the model. How wrong i was. My man decided to get in aspiring models as he wanted to keep private and business apart. I was furious and thought what an asshole it was my idea in the first place and he gets in some tarts to be his models. Well for weeks i was “too tired” for any playtime when he got home and it was meant to be his punishment but all i did was punish myself and get myself all worked up. So a few months down the line and some very large pay checks and my persistent complaining about the fact that i loved bondage as much as i loved him but i wasn’t good enough to be his model, the tension had grown to boiling point. No intimacy tends to do that. My husband had been very busy the last week or so and his phone hadn’t stopped going. Friday morning i heard the door bang shut waking me up. My husband had left for work. I got up and slipped on my robe and went downstairs to make a cuppa and noticed a large box with a note on top. ...

(story continues from Part 13) Chapter 14 Amanda didn’t care. Exhaustion had finally claimed her. The pain and the pleasure had wracked her being until everything had become a surreal blur. She could barely keep her focus on her twin sister across from her, looking very much like the image of fatigue. Thankfully the itch caused by the salve had finally stopped its lecherous magic and only a sore numbness remained. ...

CAUTION: This story is intended purely as a fantasy. Do not attempt to recreate this scenario in real life! (Though it would be pretty cool.) Do not use without the author’s permission. Janine was barely conscious, but she realized she was naked. What had brought her around was that something was being inserted into her ass. Something large. With alarm, she noted that once it was in, it swelled a little more, stretching her rectum. She could feel that she was lying on a cold, hard table, and that rubber-gloved hands were manipulating her. She wanted to see what was going on, but there was some kind of blindfold over her eyes. She wanted to struggle, to get away, but she was too weak to move. Her legs were raised, and she felt her feet being encased in tight, stretchy latex. Hands continued to work the latex over her legs, encasing them both in a single sleeve. This took several minutes, and then her pelvis and hips were covered, too. ...

This story narrates the events of a weekend meeting of a very exclusive club. It should be read in conjunction with my other story “Man – Woman – Pony” which details the transformation, and sexual reassignment of two young men into two fine female ponies. After many months of pony training and a new sexual awakening, they make their grand entrance here. Part 1: Introduction Hello and welcome to the Club. Let me be your guide as we take a tour through the house and gardens of one of the members during a weekend meeting of fun and frolics. While the hedonism happens over the two days of the weekend I shall only describe the first day’s activities, for the following day will be much like the first, merely variations on a theme, or themes. I will also give a short history of the club, how we acquire our human properties and how they are taken care of once in our possession. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: Target Practice And how about a game of paintball? Well not strictly paintball, as this is not a combat situation, more target paintball. On one side on an expansive lawn is the target. She is female, and sitting astride a narrow U shaped saddle that passes between her legs. It is supported on a single steel post fixed to a plinth and she sits on the narrow U while her legs are stretched wide, with her ankles chained to the base. Within this cushioned U are two plugs and she is impaled on them. The narrow front of the U curves up to below her waist, covering her pudenda, and the back, after separating her cheeks with the rear dildo, extends vertically up to her steel collar, and is locked there. Her arms are pulled back in a back prayer and also locked to the collar. She is therefore incapable of any movement. She is dressed in a body-hugging suit of white rubber from neck to toes, only her shackled nipples are on display. ...

story continued from part two Part 3: Vacuum Packed The members have always taken full advantage of the fine old oaks in the vast estate, and today is no exception. Like the two slaves described earlier, suspended in inflatable bags, suspended from another branch of a huge oak we come upon two more slaves. They are also suspended, side by side, this time in a vertical vacuum bed, a few inches above the lawn. The beds comprise two thin but strong sheets of transparent rubber within a steel frame and connected to a powerful vacuum system. The two slaves, again one female and one male are naked and stretched out, with just a one inch breathing tube their only connection to the outside. They are unable to move an inch; such is the unforgiving grip of the two rubber sheets. The male is well-built, quite muscular, but, like all the male slaves, completely hairless. Interestingly he is erect, perhaps they have slipped him a potion earlier, and his cock lies flat against his stomach, his steel ringed balls clearly visible underneath. ...

It had been the perfect day for running - The sun was shining, but the air was cool and crisp, if it weren’t for the leaves crunching on the ground, Sallem would’ve spaced out a long time ago. The sun was nearly set now, though she was not afraid of the dark, but really wanted to get home, since running in the dark was dangerous - Potholes, cracks in the ground, and various rubbish as well. She’s a package runner - Not like a post worker, but rather, a drug mule to a certain extent. She never knew what she was carrying, the weight and size varied vastly, but it was always in a very non-descript package, and so thickly layered, that there was no inherent scent. After all these years, she figured it was probably drugs, or something illegal, but never had the guts to open one of the packages - Being the head runner for the pack that took her in off the streets, it simply was too important to not anger them. ...

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story line is drawn from another I read on the internet. In that story it was prison guards playing hangman with a prisoner and the prisoner was not only the guessing the letters but was the hangman suffering the consequences. This story is based off another use of the word game hangman and is a based on the popular long running game show. This story is purely fiction including the characters and any resemblance to any real person is coincidental. ...

Cynthia began preparing for a landing. She was piloting the small Bristol Scout bi-plane over the barren terrain of the desert, southwest of Transjordan. It was 1920, just after the Great War. Her father was a wealthy American businessman with strong interests in the oil business. Cynthia was only 19, but knew how to fly and she knew the area well. She had a secret package to deliver and her father trusted no one else to do it. ...

story continued from part 13 Chapter 14 Jess put his hands on his head and said; What are we going to do now? I said; with all due respect Mm huhm Sir before making any decision we need all the facts and we do not know what the department want us to do so, Lets call our attorneys and get them to get us an appointment with the person responsible for this subpoena and see if we can get some answers before making any decision. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 12: Lucinda’s Schooltime Academy) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy discovers that you can be punished with pleasure. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...

Dear Bob, thanks again for letting me go to the conference in your place. Things are going well here. Day one was awesome. I spent a lot of time touring the vendor booths on the floor. Got a lot of new ideas for scenes in our videos. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff I’ve seen. They’ve got a bunch of slaves in glass cages suspended over the booths throughout the entire conference. LOL, not together though. That would be too much fun. No, I meant suspended individually in cages. Once a day they get a bucket is lowered to them with food and water. It stays for ten minutes and then is removed. If anything is left behind, they get hit hard by the shock collar they’re wearing. It’s awesome! ...

story continued from part ten Chapter 11 The work load was tremendous. We where working 14 to 16 hours a day and we had to make thousands of dollars in payments to expedite the permits and inspectors but, money was no object. I was confronted with a serious parking problem and visited the neighbor in our back yard that had a 10 acre back yard He agreed to sell 8 acres at 3.5 mil. I ended up getting for 1.7 mil. I contracted to build a 15 foot high sound proof wall all around the property and had the architect and engineer work together on maximizing parking and low lighting so as to not disturb the neighborhood with cars in and out all hours of day and night. I was particularly happy when all the dungeon equipment was stored at a warehouse I found and had it secured with alarms and cameras. ...

story continued from part 11 Chapter 12 Jacky and I had a light meal then retired to our room and were locked in. We enjoyed sleeping body to body but, did not have any lesbian tendencies. Our love was as sisters maybe even closer because of all the unusual and uncommon tribulations we had suffered. I asked her how come she never told me that she knew of my identity and she answered that after observing the trauma I must have gone thru, she had no choice but to accept it and did not want to mention it until I was ready to tell her. She did confess that at the time she was hurt and relieved at the same time to know that I was alive. ...

story continued from part 12 Chapter 13 We had a lot of control because we had been distributing Thom’s directives and orders through e-mails for the past months. We now had to issue his orders ourselves. We got pushed into a corner and had to improvise and I did not like improvisations, I always needed to plan every detail of any important move and boy,,, this was the move of all moves. We knew that he would be kept sedated for the next couple of days and then what? ...

Pausing as she moved across the parking lot, the woman smiled, shifting the bundles in her arms. “Beautiful,” she murmured. Before her sat a large Peterbilt truck, its metal-flake emerald green paint gleaming in the light. On the side of the sleeper, a mural depicted peach trees silhouetted before a setting sun. Above, gilt letters spelled out the words “Carolina Skye”. Seeing a figure standing by the door, she frowned, walking quickly forward. ...

I am a simple man with a few credentials in my life. But the most important one is that I was born on the right place, which put me on the right side. The one that won the war, a war that split the world into two groups. Those of us who still walk the earth free, and those who are slaves, with virtually no rights. After the war was over I got a job as a guard at the first human milk factory that was created, shortly after. The pay wasn’t much, but it was an easy job and I had plenty of time to hang out during it. So I thought I would start a diary of my experiences at the factory. Below, are some of the entries. ...

story continued from part nine Chapter Ten When I got back to the cell, Jacky was on the bed sleeping and the bowl on the table was empty. I tried not to disturb her, sat at the table and began to separate the project by priorities. The first concern that I was intent in pursuing was if they had contracted an engineer for all the work involved and I needed to get in contact with him before we started. For some reason the plans in the laptop did not include the contact and name of the engineering company or the architect. ...

story continued from part eight Chapter Nine Thom came into the room and Jacky automatically got on her knees and lowered her eyes to the ground. I decided to defy the humiliating gesture and see what would happen. Thom told Jacky to get up and sit back on the sofa. I knew that I had a golden egg and I was the goose for now and was going to take full advantage of it. They devised the new transgender surgery and up to now ignored the incredible effects of joining the libidos of both sexes into one body. He sat across from us and started; I have decided to assign you two to a new endeavor in a town in Florida called West Palm Beach. I purchased a mansion there, and it is being fitted to be a special B.D.S.M. club. It will have special rooms and a very special dungeon. It will be used by the richest people of the world. You both had some training here to know what has to be done and how to make sure slaves stay on discipline. ...

What follows is pure fantasy and has no basis in fact. Have you ever walked past a house and thought you caught a glimpse of something strange going on? This is one version of what might be happening. Day One I - Mark and Leon Mark and Leon were in the kitchen of their small flat, kneeling on the floor with their hands behind their heads, and entirely naked save for matching black leather dog collars. A luggage tag was attached to both collars, identifying the men as freight ready to be transported. Each had a handwritten destination: Redbush Square. They were both very nervous, scared as to what was going to happen next. ...

continued from part 8 Part 9 In the meanwhile RS had started to sweat considerably in her thick rubber encasement. Her position in the heavy stocks was quite uncomfortable and she wondered where Master Walter was gone and what he had in mind for her. Despite – or may be just because of – feeling uncomfortable she had developed a good state of hornyness and wanted nothing more but being tied, humiliated and fucked very hard. ...

story continued from part four Part 4b: Tormented Toni “Do you want to be my slave?” Sam asked Toni. “Yes, Master Sam.” “Why?” “Master I have always fanaticized about the idea of bondage. I’ve always dreamed of being naked, in chains, and being beaten with a whip or crop. Seeing you and slave Connie in action has made me want to experience my dreams in real life. Connie told me that you were a kind caring Master, and I would trust you with the safety of my body. Please take me as your slave, Master Sam.” ...

What would you do to get on the last ship off a doomed planet? Everyone was seeking an opportunity to get off-planet before an asteroid destroyed all life on Earth, and the Zorteff controlled the colony ships. But if you were not a scientist going into space for training or someone selected for the colony ship, your only chance– if you were a woman– was to go with the Zorteff as one of their “servants.” If a woman did that, she would live, but it would be as a sex slave on the Zorteff home planet. ...

Part 1: Introduction of the Players “So, we have to take it to the vote… do we proceed or end it now?” I asked. There was silence for a few seconds, the four of us looking at each other, now well aware of the consequences. The silence went on for a few more seconds; I took a drink from my pint. We were in the pub, “our” local. It was where we manufactured all our great ideas, and, come to think of it, our stupidest ones. ...

Rebecca was sitting in her small black car in the dead of night. The radio was playing some rubbish latest boy band music as she pulled latex gloves over her hands. The car was parked outside a large warehouse in south Oxford. It’s dirty brick walls and tin roof was dripping with water as the rain poured down. The street lights showed the rain flying around outside. The wind was deafeningly loud as it howled like a wolf in the blackness. Rebecca was a private investigate and reporter for a large UK newspaper and was working on a new story. ...

I awoke this morning with a smile on my face. My pet was lying next to me in the bed. It was awake. There was a vacant look on it’s face, staring off into space. There was little it could do, since the chain attached to it’s collar was keeping it there. And, with the arms removed, there was little it could do to get out of the situation. I was smiling because life was so much better for me now since the unexpected lottery win. But who would expect winning $185 million? ...

story continued from part seven Chapter 8: Cabin Fever In the weeks since Cassandra had agreed to become Beth’s employee and bondage companion, her life now truly revolved around bondage and discipline. After the nearly catastrophic day when she interrupted Mistress Allison when she had been flogging Kate; all because Kate had not asked Mistress Allison if she could give Cassandra a tour of the Playroom. Her punishment for her transgression was to choose the instrument of her own discipline; and she had decided upon the fearsome black leather whip. Cassandra had undergone a terrible ordeal that had left her marked, but at the same time she had experienced a great sexual climax as the lines between pain and pleasure had melted away. ...

story continued from part six Chapter 7: Cassandra is Whipped! “Kiss the whip!” ordered Mistress Allison. Never in her entire life had Cassandra ever felt so exposed and vulnerable! She realized that until now she had merely been playing around the edges of submission. Cassandra realized that her prior experiences before entering Beth’s house had been the equivalent of dipping her toes in the water. Everything that she had done here was merely preparation for what she would now undergo! ...

story continued from part five Chapter 6: Kate Gets Flogged Cassandra stood in gagged silence during the strangest elevator ride in her life as they descended to the basement. Mistress Allison stood in her leather dress, holding Cassandra’s leash. Both Cassandra and Beth were naked, gagged, and chained together. Once a previous boyfriend had asked Cassandra if she wanted to do a quickie in an elevator, but Cassandra had refused, pointing to the camera projecting from the ceiling. ...

Xia looked down at the man standing on his knees before her. A standard issue training harness was stretched across his wide, muscular chest; his arms were bound in a standard issue arm sheath. His large penis hung limp between his legs. She could see the brand close to the pelvic region on his left inner thigh, long since healed over. She dragged the inevitable out for several beats just so that she could keep her eyes on his magnificent form. ...

Xia looked down at the man standing on his knees before her. A standard issue training harness was stretched across his wide, muscular chest; his arms were bound in a standard issue arm sheath. His large penis hung limp between his legs. She could see the brand close to the pelvic region on his left inner thigh, long since healed over. She dragged the inevitable out for several beats just so that she could keep her eyes on his magnificent form. ...

story continues from part four Part 5 It had been sometime since my beautiful mistress had placed a collar around my neck and that of my new ‘sister’ Sarah. I had effectively given up my work, however the money raised by an app I had created kept nicely filling my bank account as I toiled for Hilary as an unpaid stable hand and slave. You see I was no longer Claire Fullerton, systems analyst and developer who had enjoyed a hobby riding and liveried my horse at the stables of a local event rider, I was now just ‘you’ or ‘slave’ to my mistress. I had let my house and lived, sharing the stable flat with Sarah. ...

Tales of Green Valley 2: One Way Trip Mistress Summer was actually more of a Madam than a mistress as she ran a very successful ‘house’ called Summer Place, using her string of sex slaves. She was only 36 and quite sexy herself so she did still turn a few tricks herself when she felt the need for some sexual fun or they ran short of girls. Most of her slaves were illegals, Hispanic or Asian, male and female. They feared to leave, not from threats, but simply because they were never taught English. And Summer gave them time off and occasional gifts. But they stayed and worked hard mostly because she saved a portion of their earnings. They were not really slaves, more indentured servants paying off the cost to acquire them. She would offer language courses and let them attend vocational training once their cost was paid off. ...

Tales of Green Valley 2: One Way Trip Mistress Summer was actually more of a Madam than a mistress as she ran a very successful ‘house’ called Summer Place, using her string of sex slaves. She was only 36 and quite sexy herself so she did still turn a few tricks herself when she felt the need for some sexual fun or they ran short of girls. Most of her slaves were illegals, Hispanic or Asian, male and female. They feared to leave, not from threats, but simply because they were never taught English. And Summer gave them time off and occasional gifts. But they stayed and worked hard mostly because she saved a portion of their earnings. They were not really slaves, more indentured servants paying off the cost to acquire them. She would offer language courses and let them attend vocational training once their cost was paid off. ...

(story continues from Oberon 1: Fresh From Auction) Part 2: The Glass Wright’s Daughter Varina was accustomed to labor, having helped her parents in their shop since she was very little. The duties that her mentor showed her were mentally challenging, which was good, but not very physically demanding, which was also good. During her training period there were two doing the work of one so they usually finished early and then went about helping others in Lord Oberon’s house. ...

story continued from part four Part 5: The Office Katherine exited the automated cab as gracefully as she had entered. Her tall white latex figure drew admiring glances from the passers-by as she stepped to the entrance of the News and Entertainment building, a tall black glass monolith of a structure from the previous century. Walking through the building lobby, she was conscious of the stares of others, both the rubbered and the unrubbered. She decided confidence was the best option and walked in quick, if tiny, steps to the security portal. ...

Part 1: The Holding Area She turned the handle and pushed on the door which swung smoothly open. Moving from the greasy odor of a hotel kitchen she could suddenly smell vanilla, and was that roasted almonds? The inside of the room was dark and she turned to the inside wall by the door hoping to find a light switch. She found none but a movement sensor obviously kicked in and an overhead fluorescent fitting crackled into life filling the room with a stark blue grey light. She turned back to the room and almost yelped in surprise. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Twin sisters in rural England crash the wrong party with very interesting, life-changing effects. “The Society” stories are not a sequential series of stories but rather a collection of separate stories that are all set in the world inhabited by members of The Society. Each story or series stands on its own although they do rely somewhat on the history and traditions of The Society. You need not have read the other stories of this collection to understand this story. ...

(story continues from The Eighth House 3: Questions) Part 4: The Mark It took me three days before I tried to simply walk through the door that led up to Lady Amelia’s rooms. Three days during which the only concession to training me came on the first morning, when Lady Amelia asked a dark skinned girl from somewhere in the south of the Hundred Kingdoms to show me how to stand and kneel, present myself and keep my eyes cast down when speaking to others who weren’t slaves. All that, in one strenuous morning, spent sweating naked through position after position until the girl, Nalla, was pleased enough with my progress to reward me with a kiss on the lips and a whispered assurance in my ear. ...

One definition of the sexual foreplay: “In human sexual behaviour, foreplay is a set of emotionally and physically intimate acts between two or more people meant to create sexual arousal and desire for sexual activity” My personal foreplay is much different. Let’s see how my ideal foreplay must be: I´m doing a good hour of intense sports such as jogging, sports bike racing or horse riding - best just before sunset, in rain or slush weather. After arriving home I undress completely. My house slaves have to take care of the dirty, wet and sweaty clothes and lingerie, I take a hot bath with some chocolate, red wine or champagne, a cigarette, rose petals and an intensive body shave, I dry myself with my towel, and put on some lotion on my skin. Then I go into the bedroom and dress up in the following order (the laundry must be previously prepared by my partner according to my instructions on the bed, look at the picture!) ...

It had been the perfect day for running - The sun was shining, but the air was cool and crisp, if it weren’t for the leaves crunching on the ground, Sallem would’ve spaced out a long time ago. The sun was nearly set now, though she was not afraid of the dark, but really wanted to get home, since running in the dark was dangerous - Potholes, cracks in the ground, and various rubbish as well. She’s a package runner - Not like a post worker, but rather, a drug mule to a certain extent. She never knew what she was carrying, the weight and size varied vastly, but it was always in a very non-descript package, and so thickly layered, that there was no inherent scent. After all these years, she figured it was probably drugs, or something illegal, but never had the guts to open one of the packages - Being the head runner for the pack that took her in off the streets, it simply was too important to not anger them. ...

“Are you going back to Tom?” Marci Gotz didn’t answer her older sister at once. She closed her suitcase and applied her thumb to the thumb-locks, sealing it, before saying: “No, I’m not. I’m going to join the Hostage Corp, and neither you nor Tom will ever see me again.” Jane sputtered. Marci brushed past her sister, suitcase in hand. “Are you nuts?” Jane finally managed when Marci reached the front door of the small rented house. “Tom is infinitely better than one of those blue beasts!” ...

It wasn’t until after the auction we got to see our new owners. The buyers we didn’t see didn’t matter to us so they remained as secret as the auction itself. I was number 4 on the block, led to a platform with a full blinding hood covering my head and face. In my mouth was a full mouth foam gag so I couldn’t talk either. The buyers had seen both modeling videos of all the slaves as well as bits and pieces of our training sessions from the last few months. Everyone knew, both who and what we were, especially mentally, physically and most important of all, sexually. ...

Dear readers. With my fifth book ‘A New Life’ finally published on Pink Flamingo publications (see the links) where you will also if you look, discover a few and different collection free short stories placed there for your entertainment. I thought it was once again time to place a few more short and varied stories on to the plaza, I hope that you enjoy the them. By the way and just so you know readers, feedback is always appreciated by all of the plaza’s authors, so many thanks to those that take the trouble to leave it. ...

Author’s note: This story is part of my ‘Star Fleet Survey Service’ series. The first story is Field Survey. If you haven’t read any of the other Star Fleet stories these definitions will help:_ The Great Crash occurred when every computer in the galaxy simultaneously locked up because of a date-time bug in the operating system. This caused an economic, technological, and political collapse that plunged most of the inhabited worlds into chaos, but some managed to avoid this fate. These worlds formed a political union they called the Amalgamation, and as other planets recovered and became sufficiently advanced they were invited to join it. ...

It had been about 18 months since Sarah had left me, my wife of 5 years. We met in high school and fell in love immediately. We were both into some pretty crazy things, we loved bdsm and tying one another up, and I have quite the anal fetish, but over the years we drifted apart, and despite some crazy shared fantasies we finally decided to end it. Since then I have been quite lonely and very horny. ...

Prologue It was the year 3269 as humanity was able to travel space though large distances after light speed space ships were invented in 3060. So for over 200 years mankind was exploring the deeper parts of the galaxy, discovering new planets and many new life forms. Not all of these aliens where friendly, however the terrestrials managed to live with the other species of the galaxy in a peaceful coexistence. After millions of years living on earth, mankind finally understood, that only tolerance and understanding of different cultures and their ways of life would lead to a permanent state of peace. ...

Whenever I think back to that day, I wonder how it could have been done differently. We could have gone a little faster, or perhaps stuck to going through the shadows instead, using the stealth course. So many different variables, so many possible outcomes. But inevitably, I get depressed and moody, thinking about what might have been. I can’t help it, though. I have lots of time to think. My name is ID682, though I was given the nickname, ‘Kitt’ by my fellow slaves, due to my love of cats. I used to be a slave, though I guess I still am. Only now I’m less then a slave. I’m a prisoner, serving a life sentence. Perhaps a little background is in order. I was born in a country where slavery was still legal, though by most standards, slaves are treated well. We’re given plenty of time to rest and pursue some minor activities while in service, and while we’re given lots of work to do, it isn’t strenuous. We aren’t whipped, or given any other form of barbaric and inhumane punishment. At least, not most of the time. You see, there are only a few crimes that automatically earn you the strictest punishment, and the greatest of all these crimes is assaulting your master, and his (or her) family. No other crime committed by a slave is punished so harshly. It happened about ten years ago, if I remember correctly (you must understand, I’m given no calendars, or indications of what date it is during my incarceration). Some of my fellow slaves had devised an escape plan to try and break free of the manor where we lived. Escape attempts by slaves were rare, though they do happen. Because I was one of the quieter slaves, who didn’t make a fuss or bring any attention to myself, they considered me trustworthy. Truth be told, their plan was excellent. Disable the building’s security system, then sneak out in the dead of night, head for the coast, and sail away from the country, to one where we could be free. I wanted to be free, and here was my chance. So I took it and joined with them. It was the perfect plan. But things went horribly wrong. The night of our escape, our master and her family went out into the huge garden that made up the backyard of the manor, seeking to have a late night party. We should have waited and tried again, but too much had been invested. We had to try. So we disabled the security system as planned, and cut the power, then made our way into the garden, heading for the fences. Things didn’t work out as we had planned. We were spotted. We panicked, and though I ran, my fellow slaves attacked our master and her family, trying to put her down. But it was too late, and master managed to summon her security forces. We were captured, our escape foiled. And as we were put in cuffs and locked in the dungeon, we all realized that, because of what we had done, we would never know freedom. We were right. The trial began the next day. We were brought into the meeting room, where our master, her family, her slaves, and everyone who lived in the manor attended. My fellow slaves and I, chained to the floor and gagged, were given no defense, no lawyers to argue our case. Everyone knew what had happened. Our master first told everyone the facts of the crime, and that we had attempted to escape. While that itself would get a harsh punishment, the fact that we had attacked her and her family was so serious that we had earned the harshest possible punishment for ourselves. In only a few minutes, our fates were decided. My fellow escapees, the ones who had planned the attack, were clearly beyond redemption or rehabilitation, for they had planned this for a long time, and had calculated everything before hand. Had they included attacking our master in their plans? I don’t think so, and think that it was only done out of panic. But it didn’t matter now. My fellow slaves, due to their actions, were sentenced to be buried alive, entombed forever to prevent any chance of escape as long as they lived. Upon hearing their fate, my fellow slaves broke down in tears, but, gagged as they were, could not protest. My fate however, was to be different. My master noted that I was the only one who had run, rather then attack her. Thus, I was innocent of the worst crime a slave could commit. But I had still attempted to escape, and I had aided those who had attacked her. Thus, I still had committed a crime, and needed to be punished. But due to my quiet nature, and lack of a disciplinary record, she would show me mercy. Thus, my punishment was given. I was given a life sentence in the dungeons, to be restrained for the rest of my life, and never to be freed. Like my fellow slaves, I cried upon hearing my fate, my tears streaming over the thick gag plugged into my mouth. There were to be no appeals, no second chances. Our sentences were final, and could not be revoked. With a bang of the gavel, our fates were sealed. And not one to waste time, master carried out our sentences immediately. We went out back, where other slaves dug three graves. Coffins were built, and my fellow slaves were forced into rubber body gloves. Restraint belts were wrapped around their waists, and one time use handcuffs locked their wrists to the belt, as one time use cuffs were locked around their ankles, forever restraining them. Their gags were left on as they were forced into the coffins and tied down, removing their ability to move. I watched their panicked faces as the lids were put on and nailed down. Due to their gags, I was spared from hearing their screams as the coffins were lowered into the earth, then covered with dirt and soil, burying them. Simple headstones were erected, though there was no date of death on them. We would never know how long they lasted within their graves. With their punishment underway, it was now time for mine. I was marched into the mansion and into the dungeons, where I was taken to a cell that had been prepared for me. And it was there that I saw how I was to be restrained for the rest of my life, for a thick leather sleepsack was waiting for me. Knowing that it was useless to resist, and that doing so would only bring further punishment, I did not resist as I was put into the sack, my arms and legs going into the internal sleeves. The back was zipped up, and then laced shut, squeezing the sack around my body, compressing and holding it. I was taken and put onto the bunk, where leather straps were applied to me, tying me down, so I wouldn’t roll off onto the floor. And with that, master looked at me, disappointed. I had such potential, she told me, but that it was too late to undo her decision. This sentence was final. She left, and closed the cell door behind her, locking it, and leaving me in my new home. *** I don’t know how long ago that was. Time goes slowly here, in this cell, and with no clocks or calendars, I can only guess how much time has passed since my punishment began. I spend my days here in the cell, locked into this sleepsack. I have never been let out since my punishment began, and wear it twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, but then again, perhaps that isn’t the most accurate statement. I am released for cleaning and hygienic reasons, but I am never awake for those moments, for I am sedated. I sleep, and when I awake, I am still in the dungeon, still in the sack, which has been cleaned, as well as me. I am gagged twenty four hours a day as well, with a giant muzzle permanently strapped to my face, a thick gag shoved into my mouth and into my throat, which is how I am fed, with tubes and liquid nourishment given to me, as well as water. A thick collar is wrapped about my neck, embroidered with the words, ‘LIFE,’ signifying my status as a prisoner. It sounds like a horrible way to live, but while my master may be strict, she is not cruel. She allows my fellow slaves to visit me in my cell, and though I cannot talk to them, they stay with me, and are allowed to stroke and cuddle with me, giving me companionship. Occasionally, my beloved cats are brought in, and spend the day with me, and I enjoy their company, even though I cannot hold them. To keep me occupied, Master has a piece of restraint added to me every day. Some days I will be blindfolded, and on others a hood is slipped over my head. Sometimes she shackles my ankles to the bed, and sometimes she dangles me from the ceiling. Every day is different, the variety keeping me occupied, if nothing else, trying to adjust to my situation. Sometimes, on rare occasions, a television will be brought to my cell, and I am allowed to watch a film or television show. I love those moments, as well when my fellow slaves come down with a book to read to me. But even with these small favors, this is still a punishment. I am locked in here for life, and will never, ever leave. I do not have the freedom of movement my fellow slaves have, and my entire body is locked away. Aside from cuddling, I am not allowed to have any pleasures of the flesh, except that, if I continue on good behavior, I will be allowed to have one orgasm every decade or so. A very good incentive indeed. There are days where I am calm and collected, and there are days when I cry and weep over what I have lost, knowing that my entire world is a standard size prison cell. There is a small window near the ceiling, where a little sunlight comes in from the outside. I can look out it, and see the sky, and the clouds, and know that this is all I will ever see of the outside world again. Sometimes, I wonder if this is all really an act of mercy. I am alive, but it is a life of restraint, of no freedoms. I will be kept this way until the day I die, for that is my sentence, and my punishment. My fellow slaves, the ones who were buried so long ago, they are gone. Sometimes I wonder if they were the lucky ones. Their punishment was horrible, but it was brief. Mine is stretched out, on and on, for decades to come. I can’t help but wonder if I’m the unlucky one.

The yacht “Parsifal” was churning through the waters of the Pacific Ocean when one of the passengers saw a glint of sunlight off glass among the swells. When the boat changed course and came close to the site, the crew and passengers saw that the glint had come from a large bottle floating in the water. Using a net on a pole, one of the crewmen retrieved the bottle and took it to the yacht’s captain. There was a rolled-up sheaf of paper inside the bottle, so the captain smashed the bottle, unrolled the papers, and read the message written on them: ...

(story continues from Candice Part 2) Part Three “Comfy?” Squirming slightly in anticipation, Candice nodded, watching as Mistress Karen made final adjustments to her bondage. Lying spread eagle in the center of the bed, her wrists and ankles held by ropes attached to the corner posts, Candice smiled into her gag, eagerly awaiting whatever Mistress had in mind for her naked body. To her surprise, Mistress Karen rose from the bed and turned toward the door. “Have fun,” she said lightly, before leaving the room. Puzzled, Candice watched as Dana slipped through the door closing it behind her. ...

(story continues from Bitgirl Part 3: The Race) Part 4: Bitgirl’s Reward Evans grabbed Bitgirl’s reins, yanked her head around before she could plant another hoof in Dee’s crotch. That she realized that Dee was, in fact, a man made the idea irresistible. Evans led his pony down the hill to where Angela sat, cradling her arm. He helped the girl into the cart and led them back to the stall. He released Bitgirl from the cart, helped Angela walk inside. He cinched Bitgirl’s reins to a ring in the wall. Shut the door. ...

Story entry in the 2011 Winter Fetish Stories Contest The Mistress and the three house guest that never leave. There was a house in the middle of a beautiful country side that sat by abeautiful water fall. The house was a two story house that had a large basement that was sound proof. The young lady that lived there was named Quinn but every one knew what she was. Then one day there was a car going by the house with three guys in it named Harvey, Alex and Doug. There car had broke down and they got out of the car and tried looking at it and see what was wrong. They looked at the tires and everything didn’t see anything they could fix. They went to the door and asked if they could use the phone but Quinn said she didn’t have one and the town is over two days walk from her front door. ...

This story was an entry into the 2011 Winter Fetish Story Contest The Mistress and the three house guest that never leave. There was a house in the middle of a beautiful country side that sat by abeautiful water fall. The house was a two story house that had a large basement that was sound proof. The young lady that lived there was named Quinn but every one knew what she was. ...

(story continues from Sci-Fi Club Part 3) Part 4 Carly lived at Danny and Katie’s house for a week. Her knowledge of the system was very useful in it’s instillation of the mobile emitter at their house. Soon it was fully operational, much to Katie’s dismay. Outside of their home, the Walsh’s were a very normal couple. They socialized, worked, and lived the life that any married couple living in suburban Chicago lives. Inside the house, now that was a different story. ...

Angela threw her keys on the table and took of her work suit jacket off. As she started cooking herself some food she threw her sensible court shoes into a corner by the telly. Once her micro meal was in the microwave and cooking Angela took off her skirt as she made her way to the bedroom to prepare for a shower. “Friday tomorrow!” Angela was very much a noughties woman, feminist, tried most things sexual, and all this by the age of twenty five! Angela’s boyfriend had invited her to a Pony Club meeting which was all weekend. Peter, her boyfriend had been quite close to her at one stage but because neither really wanted to commit, both of them had positioned themselves so their lives were free of responsibilities. The result was for all intents and purposes they were fuckbuddys and no more! As Angela soaked in her bath she started thinking of someone she had met earlier in the day at the estate agents where Angela worked. Her name was Sabrina, Sabrina Tregear. Angela had been typing up her latest success and her computer screen had darkened, as she looked around to see what was causing the shadow. ...

The click clack of high heels could be heard as the maid walked into the Den, off the main hall. The maid, dressed, head to toe black latex stooped to offer the ladies their drinks. The ladies didn’t acknowledge the maid, but continued their conversation regardless. The ladies were sat on a half moon sofa that measured fifteen feet across. They were all talking to one Lady in particular, the Lady sat on the lounger across from the half moon sofa, the Ladies round her were dressed in latex, as were the Lady herself. The Lady Bella was holding court, as was her way. ...

Part 1 The “Ding” of the elevator bell announcing the cars arrival on the third floor shook Carrie out of her trance. So dazed was she by the maze of thoughts and feelings rushing through her brain she didn’t even remember what she had been day dreaming about. She looked down at the note on the piece of paper Mark had left in her mail box. It was a full page of instructions. She read the room number, 315. She didn’t need that information though. She had been here before. She knew the room well. She had even called it “Their room” even though she knew it belonged to the hotel she felt like it belonged to them because of the “special” things they had done there. Tonight would go well beyond the bondage games they had experimented with in the past. Tonight would be her graduation night. ...

(story continues from Robotrix) ROBOTRIX Pt 2. The End of the Matter! I have written a brief introduction for those that have not read the original story titled Robotrix. Though it gives a taste of my situation, it does not explain in any detail, so I would suggest that prior to reading this the end of my tale, you read the beginning on Gromet’s Plaza. For those that have already read the original may I say I hope you enjoy reading of my fate! ...

Published in Pleasure Bound magazine in two parts. All rights reserved. Part 1 The trolley moved steadily up the mountain, almost silent on its rubber wheels. A stout clamp around her waist secured its reluctant prisoner to her seat. Amanda’s neck was confined in a rigid brace, hinged to control the movement of her head, with attachments for her wrists on either side. She wore only a pair of highly polished black leather boots that reached almost to her hips. The soft leather clung to her shapely legs, which were parted wide by ropes clipped to heavy steel rings on the ankle bands concealed under the soft leather of her boots. There was nothing delicate about the exposure of her sex. The soft folds of her inner flesh were dressed only in their natural covering of wispy blonde hair. ...

continued from part 6 Part Seven Alice was stunned at the Baroness’ request. “You want me to have….your baby?” “That’s right.” the Baroness said. “Unless I totally failed Biology, I don’t think that’s physically possible. You meant that you want someone to get me pregnant?” “No, I meant I want you to have MY baby.” Alice was totally confused. The Baroness wasn’t making sense. Unless she suddenly grew a cock and a pair of balls, there wasn’t any way that Alice could get pregnant with the Baroness’ baby. Placing her arm around Alice, the Baroness gave her a hug and explained. ...

continued from part four Part Five Chief Inspector Marie Duchamp. Hmmm, Chief of Police Marie Duchamp sounded even better. The possibilities that could exist once she breaks the biggest case of her career. Not only was she going to capture the brains behind a smuggling ring, but reveal a multinational sex scandal as well. There was going to be lots of reporters wanting her story. She was congratulating herself for fooling those rubber perverts into thinking she was one of them. Oh sure, she had to endure having to have sex with Sylvia the dyke; but she would close her eyes and picture her former lover, Jean-Claude. Once this case was done, she would find him and they’d start over. ...

continued from part five Part Six The next few days were puzzling to Alice. Doctors Ernstmeyer were in meetings with the Baroness, and she was on the phone for several hours talking to people. Alice was feeling a little left out. The Baroness hadn’t been to bed regularly, and when she did, she was too tired for sex. Alice had come to expect hot and heavy rubber lovemaking from the Baroness and was disappointed when all that she could do was to use the extensive collection of dildos and vibrators. It just wasn’t the same. ...

continued from part three Part Four The Baroness took Alice to the bedroom where number eight and number twelve were waiting. They in turn, took Alice to the bathroom where she was prepared for the evening. A warm, refreshing bath enveloped Alice, and she closed her eyes; feeling the warm water caress her body. Then she felt one of the rubberslaves taking a handful of her hair. ‘SNIP’ came the sound of a pair of scissors. ‘SNIP..SNIP.SNIP’ Alice heard as her hair was being cut off! She tried to get out of the tub, but number eight had gotten in and had pinned down her arms and legs. ...

continued from part one Part Two The Baroness guided Alice towards a set of large oak doors in the west wing of the castle. These were the Baroness’ sleeping quarters. Alice watched, as the Baroness opened the heavy doors with ease. What she saw caused her to shiver in fear, yet become aroused. The rooms were covered in black rubber. Not just things like the bedsheets and curtains, but EVERYTHING! The wallpaper was thin latex sheeting. The furniture had been coated in liquid latex. The carpet under her feet was actually rubber. The smell of it entered her nostrils and gave Alice an intense, erotic sensation. ...

Part One The heavy rain made it difficult for Allen to see the road. It was literally a curtain of water hitting the windshield. The wipers were useless, yet he wouldn’t stop. Damn him!, Alice thought to herself. He couldn’t leave on time. Now we’ll never get to the airport before our flight leaves! She looked at Betty and Frank, who were sitting quietly in the back seat. They looked at Alice with expressions of anger and yet, resignation to their fate. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift 12: Bert51 to the Rescue) Chapter 13: Journey Home The airship Unbound Pleasure, its nose and belly fire-scared, pushed its way against dawn headwinds as it left the jungled Andes for the capital city of Quito. Most of the crew, exhausted from the long night of activity leading up to the snatch-and-grab that had freed the mission’s scientist, her bodyguard, and the ship’s captain, had been secured in their bunks. The airship, running under a light crew, made its way west. ...

Trembling Lisa crunched the long gravel path and up worn yellow sandstone steps to the large black door. Lisa was skinny, nineteen with insides that felt like a rhinoceros with terminal indigestion. A pair of large bookish spectacles sitting on a slightly rounded face dented by a spectacular storm of freckles peeped out from a proud main of auburn hair. She stared at the doorbell with the intensity one might study the Mona Lisa. The black polished door was set in the front of a large yellow stand stone mansion. The mansion was itself sat at the end of a long gravel drive way, surrounded by enough pastoral English landscape to make a Jane Austin fan swoon. Lisa stood poised with her finger over the door’s doorbell. Her finger moved within a paper’s thickness of the button and she pulled it away. Lisa turned and walked away from the unused button. After a few paces she stopped and looked back. ...

Mike sat back as he pushed the financial report to the middle of the desk. He smiled as the profits were on a record pace and he looked at the screen. His club was almost full and he recognized his usual patrons as he moved from screen to screen. The warm mouths on his cock made him look down and his smile widened. The identical waitresses looked up at him as their pierced tongues rolled across the head of his lipstick covered cock as their lips brushed together enclosing the hard shaft. He wondered which one was which as their silicone breasts spilled from their corsets and he relaxed not really caring to know. His thoughts went back to what brought him to this point. Mike had been an inventor and, although his inventions had made him rich, he was relatively unknown to the outside world being that his inventions were usually part of something bigger. Sarah had been perfect when he met her at a convention and they had married after a brief courtship. After a year had passed he began to notice his funds disappearing and hired an investigator to check them out as he was busy in his basement working on something that he thought would change the world. The idea for the machine had come to him after browsing the net and finding a huge fascination with transformation amongst the millions of internet users. The investigator had shown up and given him pictures of his perfect wife handing an envelope full of his cash to another man before they made love in a seedy hotel. The man, it turned out, was her husband, Brett, and Mike was stunned to discover his marriage was a fake. At that moment he decided it was time to give his machine a test run. He spent the next few days shopping and sat down to send the e-mail that would set things in motion. As the sun set, he smiled as the door opened and a male voice called out for Sarah. Mike held his breath as he got nearer and the light from the house shown down the stairs. “Sarah? Are you down here? What’s this?” Brett said as he turned on the lights and saw the machine in the room. He walked up to it and never saw who it was that pushed him as he fell forward and the machine whirred to life. Clamps closed over his wrists and ankles as well as a collar snapping around his neck as he was made to stay in place. As he started to cry out, his face was pulled into a soft cushion and a rubber cock was pushed between his lips causing him to be silenced as the machine’s door closed behind him. Mike sat at his keyboard and began giving the machine instructions at it hummed away, his “wife’s” husband securely inside. He found it quite exciting how the sound of the machine covered any sounds coming from inside, but his computer monitor showed quite clearly what was going on. He smiled at the elevated heartbeat of his captive as a monitor was slipped over his finger. In the dark chamber, Brett “mmmphed” around the cock that stretched his lips as his clothes were grabbed by unseen mechanical hands and ripped from his body. The collar pulled him forward causing the rubber cock to go deeper as his face was enveloped in a breathing mask. He heard a “hiss” and felt something cool sprayed over his body and would have jumped as his legs were pulled apart and the spray applied to his dangling cock and balls and exposed ass. His skin tingled and stung a bit until warm water was sprayed to wash it off. Under the mask his eyes widened as he felt the water on his tender skin and especially on his exposed scalp. Outside, Mike smiled at the nude, smooth, shiny form that hung helplessly and continued inputting commands. The mask was removed and drool dripped from the rubber as his lips slid back so that just the head was in his mouth. Another mask was lowered and covered his face once again and another hiss sounded as it formed to outline of his face. Mike smiled as it was removed and Brett was no more, in his place was an expressionless rubber doll with a cock in her mouth as the built in “O” shaped lips surrounded it. Brett could smell the rubber as it formed to his face and he felt it bond to him like a second skin. He let out a breath as something wrapped around his waist and tightened and his body jerked slightly as the mechanical hands pulled and tied a cincher to his waist. To his surprise, Mike felt his cock harden as what was once a macho guy was now sporting a very girlish figure. He continued tapping the keys and shook slightly as he anticipated the fun he would have later with his new creation, combined with the satisfaction of the machine working flawlessly. He watched Brett as he jumped slightly in his bonds as an adhesive was put on his chest and two E cup forms pressed on. Another mechanical arm, one created for this purpose when Mike had made his plans, reached between Brett’s legs and pulled his cock back and held it as Brett’s legs were pulled back together, trapping it there. Mike was impressed with Brett’s equipment and it added to his delight to think this hung man was his. A pair of rubber panties appeared as a circle opened in the floor and were pulled up his legs. Seconds later, Brett’s manhood disappeared behind the tight rubber. A small needle appeared and Brett felt it stick him in the arm before his world went black. He was released, held up gently by the arms in the machine as a catsuit was pulled over his body and no one would ever guess it was a man underneath. An open faced hood was added sporting a long blonde ponytail as his feet were set into a pair of ballet boots and laced to his ankles. Mike sat back and made one last addition as Brett began to waken. A pair of goggles was lowered and Brett was caught in a world of swirling lights as he was lost in the lights, all will disappearing. His jaw relaxed around the cock in his mouth and soon images played in front of his now opened mind and his new life was downloaded into him. Mike sat back and waited. A few hours later, Mike was sweating slightly as he ran his hands over the rubber underneath him. He reached around and felt the swinging rubber tits as he enjoyed the tight ass of his doll. He heard the front door open and knew Sarah was finally home. ...

Gina had come to Las Vegas with her family when she was young, say 8 or 10 years old. She remembered that there was very little to do, at least as a minor. Now at the age of 24, Gina came to Vegas on her week’s vacation with an agenda. She was determined to seek out some fun and adventure. To look at Gina the casual observer would think she would have all kinds of friends and lovers, and no trouble pursuing any kind of fun she desired. She was 5'8", weighed an athletic 125, had luminous blue eyes, and long blonde hair that streamed down to the middle of her back. Her waist hadn’t really changed since high school, still 25 inches, while her breasts had continue to fill out a little through her college days. Gina was really proud of her 36C size and matching 36 thighs. ...

It had been a glorious spring day and I had enjoyed the peace and solitude of a walk in the countryside alone. It had given me time to reflect on all the wonderful times I had experienced with my very close friend, dating back to our school days. I am of course, referring to our fun and games experimenting with latex, rubber etc. Progressively this developed into all elements of the BDSM scene. Julie my friend discovered that she was very dominant. For me, I discovered the delights of being very submissive. We had both taken each other to new heights and explored each others interest with passion. ...

John Rutex was restless. He always became restless when business slowed down. “Rutex and Associates, Investigations” it said in the San Francisco phone directory, but there were no associates and few investigations. Two years ago he had been lucky, cracking a big fraud case which made him wealthy; but since then there had been only four small jobs. In his present mood he did not realize how much he had enjoyed the free time, for John Rutex was a rubber fetishist. With the windfall he had bought himself a large house and had added significantly to his collection of rubber garments. Now he had the time to lounge around in rubber, watch his rubber videotapes, organize his albums of thousands of photographs of women in rubber and correspond with dozens of rubber devotees around the world. But he was nevertheless restless; he needed some work. Little did he know that he was about to get involved in the biggest and most interesting case of his career, and that his fetish and profession would merge. ...

As the three girls walked into the casino they where surprised. They had expected an unusual sight but not like this. The room was filled with the typical style of tables for gaming. But rather than the compliment of guests dressed in tired tuxedos or vacation wear, the crowd seemed to be made up of a sea of latex and leather. There wasn’t a single person in sight that wore anything other than tight fetish clothing. Gina looked at herself and her two friends, suddenly feeling very out of place. Wearing sundresses, the girls had expected to be overdressed for the crowd that was described to them. Instead, they felt like they where wearing overalls at a formal dance. ...

I guess before I begin, I ought to introduce myself. I’m know by my friends as the LatexCat due to my liking of dressing in tight latex clothing. I’m a 26 year old lesbian who likes to share the responsibility of being dominate and submissive in her scenes. I’m attractive, 5"7, weigh 120lbs and have a 36c-24-36 figure. My chestnut hair flows down to cover my ass and I have hazel eyes. I have a nice tanned body as I spend much of my time in the Canary Islands and I work out often to keep my body firm and in shape. I love to act and look like a cat - but definitely a dominant cat. ...

Part 1 of 2 Another day, another dull routine at work. Though working at the international sex slave factory was definitely an uncommon career, it could get a little dull at times, and for poor Albert, this was one of those times. Albert was the man who supervised the shipping area of the factory. It was his task to oversee the safe packing and shipping of slaves who were to be sent to their owners all over the world. Today had seen a large shipment of mummies to be shipped off. Punching his time clock in, Albert picked up his hard hat and overalls. He picked up the clipboard and looked at the printout. Fifty hand-wrapped mummies, sixteen body bag mummies, twelve straightjackets and six mail bags. The pleasant chime sounded, and it was off to the floor. “Morning Albert!” A voice called out. “Morning Tim. Looks like we’ve got a busy day ahead!” “Yep! But looking at the lists, it looks like a fun loadout!” The workers took their places next to the conveyor belts and waited for the machinery to start up. Boxes of every shape and build were put in place, packed with shipping foam. The red warning lights lit up, the buzzers sounded, and the conveyer belts began rolling. “Okay people!” Albert called out. “Let’s stay sharp! Human cargo coming through!” The first body appeared out of the rubber flaps. It was one of the hand wrapped mummies, wrapped in dark blue bandages. Albert followed the mummy as it went down the conveyer belt, wiggling and squirming. Albert did a quick check on his clipboard. Slave number 3498B. She was to be shipped to a wealthy warlord in a Middle Eastern country, along with two straightjackets. Special notes indicated that this one used to be a lawyer. She had been captured and forced into slavery against her will. Notes indicated a feisty and unwilling temperament. Mummy slave 3498B reached the end of the conveyer belt. The workers quickly picked her up and did a quick visual inspection. No damage was present, though one of the bandages needed to be sewn back into place. As one of the workers did that, another went and clipped a collar around slave 34’s neck. The black collar was locked in place around the bandaged throat and activated. With this tracking system, the warlord would know exactly when his precious cargo was to arrive. Satisfied that slave 3498B was ready to be shipped, the workers placed her inside a coffin like box, surrounded her with shipping foam and placed the lid on. Three quick snaps of the locks, and mummy slave 3498B was ready for shipping. As her box was placed into a large shipping container, another mummy came out. Albert observed the number on the mummy’s wrappings, and checked it against his records. Ah yes, slave number 1535G. This slave was to be shipped with number 3498B to his new desert home. Special notes indicated that this was a voluntary slave, who used to be a disgruntled college student. The notes said that he had willingly submitted to being wrapped. Albert let out a smile. It was always good when all parties involved in this trade were willing and submissive. Slave 1535G was picked up, checked, collared, and placed in his box. Though his face could not be seen within his wrappings, slave 1535G’s body posture was relaxed and happy. The lid was closed, and the locks activated. Two more mummies ready for shipment. As the rest of the warlord’s order was processed, Albert walked over to the next conveyor belt. This one was processing a small order, consisting of a single slave. Slave number 56A124 was coming out of the hole, dressed in a tight white straightjacket with blue tights. Special equipment included a pair of gold colored ankle cuffs and a black leather muzzle. Notes said that this slave was a felon with a life sentence, which had been commuted to life as a slave. Looking at her gagged face, she didn’t look too happy as she was picked up off the conveyer belt and forced into her shipping box. She looked quite frightened as she was strapped down to the inside of her box and blindfolded. She let out a muffled whimper as the box lid was closed and locked. With a great shove, the box was pushed into the back of the shipping truck, which promptly drove away, taking the slave to her new master in Canada . The next conveyer belt was packaging an interesting order. A high-ranking official in the Chinese government had a fetish for American brides, and had placed an order for ten of them. And now there were ten slaves dressed as brides, their arms and legs cuffed and shackled. They were currently ungagged, but had been warned about protesting. The ten shackled brides, dresses and all, were forced into individual shipping boxes. The shipping attendants pushed the billowy dresses into the boxes, made sure the cuffs on ankles and wrists were tight, and began to shut the lids on each bride. Albert checked the order again, going over the list. “Hold it!” he called out. “Our client made a change in his order. He wants eleven brides, not ten.” “But we don’t have another bride.” A worker named Susan said. “All the other slaves are being trained, and we don’t have any to spare.” Albert paused, thinking the situation over. Wait… he had an idea. “Oh, I think we can get one more bride.” With well-practiced moves, Albert quickly walked up and slapped a pair of handcuffs around Susan’s wrists. Pressing a button around his belt, three guards walked over. “Susan, you are under arrest. You have been chosen to be converted into a lifetime slave.” Ignoring Susan’s shocked face, he turned to the guards. “Take her to the dressing department, tell them that we need another bride.” The guards nodded and began dragging Susan off the floor. Company policy does work sometimes, Albert mused. If you’ve got a troublesome employee, or need a slave quickly, go ahead and arrest one of them. After all, we can always cover it up. That was one of the perks of working with the largest slave company in the world. If it had managed to keep its operations secret for over a hundred years, then it could do anything. Fifteen minutes later, Susan was marched back into the shipping room, dressed in a silk bride’s dress. A new shipping crate had been prepared for her. “Albert!” She cursed as the guards forced her towards the crate. “You can’t do this!” Pulling out a pair of turn of the century shackles, Albert walked up to her. “Oh, you know fully well I can.” With the guards holding her arms still, Albert put a transportation belt around Susan’s waist, then threaded the handcuffs through the large O ring. “Besides.” He said as he locked the cuffs around Susan’s silk gloves. “I hear that Chinese food is really tasty. You might get extra for being a slave for life.” She spat on him as he finished applying the locks. “Now now, don’t make me gag you. I’ve read that having a ball gag in your mouth for a trip to China can make you very sore.” Susan gave him the meanest glare she could. “Damn you.” She cursed as she was forced into her shipping box. “Damn you.” He gave a final check to make sure her shackles were nice and tight. Satisfied that she wouldn’t be able to move her wrists from her waist, he closed the box lid and locked it. The crates filled with bound brides were loaded onto a shipping truck, and were soon heading down the road towards the airport. “Have fun in China .” Albert giggled as he watched the truck, along with his ex-coworker, vanish around a curve. Three hours passed, and forty slaves were packaged and shipped. The work was tiring, with Albert constantly jogging back and forth to insure that each slave was carefully packaged and shipped. Though every slave, willing or unwilling, was forced to wear restraints, a few accidents occasionally happened on the floor. Only one such incident today, with a wetsuited male managing to undo his handcuffs. He managed to knock over three employees and was strangling another before being subdued. Ten minutes later, he was straightjacketed, cuffed and mummified. His squirming form was forced into his shipping box and locked in just as the break whistle was activated. Easing into his chair in the cafeteria, Albert breathed deeply, enjoying the feel of his tired muscles unwinding. As a chained slave brought over some drinks, Albert and Tim caught up on the latest family and company activities. “So,” Albert began. “Who all did we loose this week?” “Billy, Harrison, and Ang all got shipped off to Malaysia last Monday.” “How did they go?” “Catsuited, then mummified in red horse bandages.” Albert nodded. “Nice. Sounds like fun. Anybody else?” “Well, Lisa was straightjacketed yesterday and was shipped off, new property of a lucky businessman from Los Angeles .” There was a loud muffled scream from the other side of the room. The two looked over and watched as a green plastic mummy was carried down a hallway, its ponytail sticking out of its head. “Well, there goes Anna.” Tim observed. “I warned her not to complain about the long hours. I wonder where’s she going.” “Five bucks says the UK.” “Okay, you’re on.” The two quieted down as they sipped their drinks. Tim wondered what movie he was going to watch at home tonight. Albert wondered how long it would be before he was arrested and turned into a slave. It was pretty much inevitable that every employee of slave international would one day be forced into slavery themselves. If you stayed on longer, you would be sold to a nice master. Rank and experience had its privileges. Albert had been there for about twenty years, shipping, carting, and supervising human goods all over the world. Nobody had lasted more then twenty one years. His time would no doubt come. He hoped that he would have a nice master, one who was kind to him. As he had no immediate family, he was looking forward to his inevitable adventure. The whistle sounded, and it was time to go back to work. The straightjackets were next. All of these slaves were willing volunteers, homeless men and women who had volunteered for a new kind of life where all their needs would be taken care of. The crates they would be traveling in were late, so the eleven remaining straightjacketed slaves quietly talked to themselves. Albert went up and inspected each one, making sure their clothing and their restrictive jacket were on nice and tight. “Excuse me.” Slave 895H asked. “But my jacket is a little loose. Could you tighten it a bit?” “Of course.” Albert took the lady’s sleeves and tightened them, buckling down the straps and belts. “Tight enough?” “Oh yes, very comfy. Thank you.” At that point, the crates arrived, ready for their occupants. Albert reviewed his clipboard. “It seems that you’re going to have your mouth taped shut.” Albert told slave 895H. “Oh goody! I was hoping my mouth would be taped shut. I just love the feeling!” Albert smiled as he pulled out the green tape. Slave 895H closed her mouth and smiled as Albert wound it around her mouth. After three wraps, he was sure it was closed tightly enough. “Now you have a good life, okay?” Slave 895H nodded enthusiastically as she was picked up and placed in her crate. As the straightjacketed slaves were packed up and shipped, Albert looked at his list, and at the clock. The end of the day was fast approaching. His shift would end soon, and it would be back to the dingy apartment, where it would be a lonely dinner for one… Two mail bags came down, each securely holding a catsuited slave. They were simple to ship. Simply plop them into the back of the truck and away they went. At last, the last orders of the day were about to be processed. The sixteen body bag mummies. Albert began checking off the remaining forms when he heard them behind him. “Albert Allen?” “Yes?” There was the clink of metal. “I’m afraid we’re body bag mummy short. You’ve just been drafted.” Albert let out a small smile and put his clipboard down on the edge of the conveyer. The guards were very gentle as they locked the handcuffs around his wrists. Albert noticed how this was the end of his old existence. He was on his way to a new life, a new adventure. Fifteen minutes later, Albert was in the mummy room, a section of the factory where slaves were mummified for those who had a mummy fetish. He had already made the decision to cooperate with his ex-employers, now his captors. He had cooperated when they shaved his body down and told him to get into the spandex body suit, and now he stood in the mummy room, awaiting further instructions. Three attendants brought out a large black human sized bag. Albert grinned as he recognized it. It was one of the special models, a mix of neoprene, spandex, and latex. Very tight and very soft. He had never had the pleasure of trying one on before. “We are going to put you in this bag.” One of the attendants said. “We will then wrap you up in bandages to secure you.” Albert nodded. “Well then, why don’t we start?” The attendants looked a bit shocked. “You are aware of what’s going on aren’t you?” One of them asked. “Oh yeah, I knew this would happen eventually. But I’m looking forward. I hope though, that my new owner and master is nice.” As the attendants gently moved him towards the bag, they smiled. “Oh don’t worry, I think you’ll like her.” The bag was held up, the back unzipped and waiting for an occupant to enter. Albert happily put his legs into the bag and worked them into the leg sleeves at the bottom. The soft material felt good against his second skin, warm and comfy. Standing in the bag, Albert then felt around for the internal arm sleeves. This was the biggie. Once he put his arms in those sleeves and the back was zipped up, he would be completely helpless and at the mercy of his captors. He didn’t hesitate. He found the sleeves and slid his arms in, relishing the soft, tight feeling. In a way, it felt like he was putting on a tight pair of gloves. When his arms were fully in, the attendants went to work. They adjusted the mummy bag slightly to ensure a tight fit, then they began to pull the heavy duty zipper up. Albert did nothing but shiver slightly from excitement as the zipper was pulled up, and the bag tightened around him. When the zipper was fully up, the attendants slipped a small lock on, ensuring that it wouldn’t come undone by mistake. Now locked into the bag, the attendants gently lay the new slave down on a table. Albert felt very relaxed as he went still in his new body bag. Large black belts were pulled out and applied around his body. They were pulled through straps around his ankles, knees, waist, elbows, and chest. The tightness was delicious to Albert, feeling another restraint being applied to him. Now that he was secured inside his bag, the attendants began the process of wrapping Albert in a layer of tight, elastic bandages. Well trained by years of experience, they quickly wound the elastic bandages around Albert and his tight bag. Albert could do nothing, now that he was locked into his bags. The internal sleeves forced him to keep his arms still and in place. He discovered, much to his dismay, that he couldn’t reach and pleasure himself. The internal sleeves denied him a pleasure he had always enjoyed. In five minutes, the bandages were wrapped super tight up to his waist. It was wonderfully tight, but not to the point of excess. The new slave felt very warm and safe as his new cocoon began to wind its way up his body. A few minutes later, the bandages had reached his shoulders. Curiously, the attendants stopped. One of them walked into Albert’s field of vision. “Your new owner has specifically requested for you to travel blindfolded.” Albert smiled. “Well, it lets me guess where I’m going!” “She also ordered for you to be gagged.” “Yes!” Albert thought. “I just love those gags!” Opening his mouth wide, Albert happily accepted the ruby red gag that was pushed into his mouth. Unlike normal ball gags, this gag was specially designed for long term wear. Albert giggled as he tasted the plastic over his tongue. The attendant smiled and produced a hood constructed of the same materials as the body bag. She slowly reached over and placed it on the top of Albert’s head. The hood was pulled over Albert’s head. He watched with great interest as the material was pulled over his eyes, then over his head and down until it completely covered his head and his throat. Albert could still see out of the eyeholes. But the attendants had a surprise for him. Albert watched as they pulled out a blindfold, then slowly began to cover his eyes, thus blinding him until his master decided to let him see again. The last thing he saw was the attendant’s smiling face. With Albert now blindfolded, the attendants had one last surprise for their slave. They pulled out a black leather collar and fastened it around Albert’s neck. The posture collar quickly forced Albert into keeping his neck and head straight. The buckles and straps were set, and the collar was locked onto his neck. It was almost over. The attendants resumed the slave’s mummification, winding the thick bandages over his neck, and then around his head. With one layer completed, Albert was no longer a free man. He was now a mummified slave, completely at the mercy of his new masters. The attendants did one more layer of the stretchy bandages, just to make sure he was securely wrapped and restrained. Thirty minutes later, the second layer was complete. There was one last step to do. The chief attendant leaned over Albert’s head. “Your name is no longer Albert. For the rest of your life, you will now be known as slave 7538Y.” Slave 7538Y wiggled with pleasure inside his thick cocoon. He was picked up and carried over to the conveyer belt in the back of the room. The slave was placed onto it, and was swiftly carried away and out of sight. The attendants sighed. Another job well done. Another mummy off to his master. They turned to leave, ready to go home. Instead, they found a locked door and six new attendants, each carrying rolls of bandages. “It’s time for your… retirement.” One of the guards said. Slave 7538Y took the trip that he had sent so many others on. He was carried down the conveyer belt, quietly waiting for his fate. He was received by the employees at the floor. They knew who was inside this cocoon of restraints and were extra gentle as they placed him inside his shipping crate. The new floor supervisor double-checked the details of slave 7538Y’s trip. Confirming that everything was in order, the supervisor nodded. The lid was placed on and locked. The crate was pushed, along with fifteen other crates, onto a shipping truck. They were piled one on top of another until they were all inside. With the crates secured, the truck drove off into the night, carrying sixteen slaves off to a new life. Slave 7538Y was quiet inside his crate. He listened to the sounds of travel, but he was growing sleepy. He felt so safe, so secure inside his own private crate. He had nothing to worry about. All of his troubles, all of his fears were behind him. A new life awaited him. All he had to do was lie back and enjoy the ride. Unable to move, unable to escape even if he wanted to, slave 7538Y drifted off into the warm, safe arms of sleep. ...

Another day, another dull routine at work. Though working at the international sex slave factory was definitely an uncommon career, it could get a little dull at times, and for poor Albert, this was one of those times. Albert was the man who supervised the shipping area of the factory. It was his task to oversee the safe packing and shipping of slaves who were to be sent to their owners all over the world. ...

She had a job, but the money she made from it didn’t seem worth her while. She had a place to go home to, but it wasn’t a home. It was a nearly empty room in a run-down apartment building, and that might be okay to live in, but this apartment had nothing to cheer her up. She had lost most everything she had in a fire. The police called it an accident, but she was sure her drunk parents that had done it. She wasn’t home at the time and no bodies were found. She had a “boyfriend”, but he was giving her money to keep herself off the streets, but not enough for anything else, and if she tried to get out of their relationship, she knew he would do something cruel. He was selfish, and he would probably plant drugs on her or in her car or apartment and then turn her in, or something like that. ...

If you are the author to this story - please let me know. Invisible Rubber by Unknown INVISIBLE RUBBER A story from Kinky magazine #9 (1976) My outfit which, as I have told you previously is now a partnership, makes not only items which may be generally classified as bondage equipment, but also a wide range of rubber clothes. We have a Fashion Department, making the “frillies” for which there is always a demand even though because of continually rising labor and material costs prices are so high that I am ashamed of them! Only five years ago, I could provide a complete outfit of black rubber stockings and garterbelt, small briefs, bra, miniskirt and long-sleeved shirt-waister to retail for about $50. Today the retail price for exactly the same outfit would be around $120. The only difference is that on the $120 price I make less net profit than I used to at $50! It’s a hard world! ...

Slave’s Training by PShadowPhazer You walk into the bedroom, looking around you see the chains hanging from the wall sparkle in the light of a single lamp in a corner and me sitting on the bed. “Well my little slave do you know why I wanted you in here?” Kneeling before the bed you hold your head high with your eyes downcast as it should be. “No Master what have you called this one in here for?” You can feel my frown as it grows. “Because I saw you kissing another man my pet and for that you must be punished.” “But Master…” is all you can get out before I push a ballgag into your mouth and lock it shut behind your head, then reaching behind you I take your wrists and raise you up so you are standing on your tiptoes and enclosing your wrists in handcuffs dangling on the end of a chain from the ceiling. ...

Ann eased herself into the steaming hot bath, a much needed tension breaker. As she lay there swirling the scented waters over her tired and aching body, Ann began to think of ways to enjoy a long week-end. Her favorite idea was to think of a Dare for Carol. Even though the game was one they had played since college, lately it had been taking some decidedly kinky turns. Ann remembered the first time the game had taken such a sexy turn. Carol had held up a pair of shiny silver handcuffs and dared Ann to wear them out to a movie. They had draped a sweater over her cuffed hands and gone out. Ann could never remember what movie they saw, she had been so distracted by her pinioned hands…. That night was the first time she and Carol had made love. ...

continued from part one Part Two Jordan’s conversation puzzled me. Had she already called Doris and told her that she found me in handcuffs? If Jordan did not call before, what “play” was Jordan talking about? There were so many questions running through my head and no way to express them. It wasn’t long before Jordan was tugging at my leash and saying, “Walk for me.” It took another several minutes but I made it back to my bedroom. My legs were sore from the walk and my feet hurt. It felt good when Jordan forcefully turned me around and pushed me onto my bed. I was sitting on my bed watching Jordan move towards my closet and pulling out some clothes. I could not see what was being pulled out and thrown into the suitcase that she had found in the closet. When she turned around I saw her holding the little lock that was used to secure the luggage. She approached me and said, “I knew we would be able to use this.” ...

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Big City The wipers beat double time to push the rain aside, Betty peered through the windshield trying to find her way. Not for the first time she regretted taking that turn off, but she had been sure that was the one that would get her to that gas station. The noise under the hood was getting worse and worse and she had less and less hope of finding a phone let alone someplace to get help with her car. When the engine finally gave out Betty was able to get it over to the curb. Looking out the windows all she could see through the rain were deserted streets and buildings that went into the clouds. ...

(story continues from Bitgirl Part 1: Deerefield House) Part 2: Bitgirl No Hooves In The House! Bitgirl chuckled, a soft, breathy sound. He followed her eyes to the sign, smiled, reached over and took her hand, squeezed it. The Bookside Inn was in fact an equestrian center. There was a large barn behind the inn, a paddock, an enclosure for jumping practice and dressage. But for a month each year the equines left and the ponygirls took up residence. The double entendre tickled her. Some horse owners loved their horses, some a bit too much. As for the ponygirls … ...

(story continues from Bitgirl Part 2: Bitgirl) Part 3: The Race Bitgirl followed Evans back to the patio. Angela had toweled her off and they would both have to oil her pretty tack, but it felt good to run. Evans had decided to show her off, throw the gauntlet down, as it were, give Celeste something to think about. Give Dee something to think about more the better. They were standing in a group, the center of attention. The song “You’re so vain” ran through Bitgirl’s head. ...

(story continues from Candice) Part Two “This is all your fault, I hope you know that.” Candice sighed softly. She really didn’t need another lecture from Dana, but it was obvious she was going to get one. She only hoped this one would be shorter than the others. The two women sat facing each other in a small room, numerous lengths of rope binding each to her respective chair. They had been here for what felt like hours. Now, Dana watched with obvious disapproval as Candice squirmed in her bonds. ...

Part One Chapter One My contract this week was to safeguard Miss Tilly Masterson, Daughter of the wealthy Mrs Rhona Masterson who had approached me after her Daughter had received several threatning calls whilst studying at Warwick University. I had suggested Tilly came up North as whoever was doing the threatning were likely to remain in Coventry as it was probable they were local gangsters who were after a quick return by kidnapping Tilly and then approaching Mrs Masterson for ransom. ...

The English weather was living up to expectation, cold, wet, and windy! Charlotte was trying to find her front door key, she put down her two suitcases and fumbled through her bag, finally she saw her bunch of keys and picked the most likely to open the front door and get her out of the rain! Charlotte shared the house with Helen, Helen worked at the same investment company as Charlotte, Charlotte was a Manager of a foreign commodities section, Helen on the other hand was a secretary for Ms Jacobs in accounts. The two of them had been at school together, in different years, with Charlotte being a year older then Helen.. ...

(story continues from Part 12)_ ### Chapter 13 Cassandra could feel her humiliation burning all over from her blush. All she could do was stare down at her feet and wish she could wake up from this nightmare. After they dried her off, the strangers relocked the black leather cuffs around her ankles and wrists and the collar around her neck. She didn’t even fight the pear-shaped gag when pressed against her lips; she just opened her mouth and let them fasten the gag into place. ...

Fantasy Football Slave edition The Tara and Racheal story All characters are fictional. First part will be slow as it sets up the story line Chapter 1 January 24, 2016 6am Tara Kern was extremely nervous and could not sleep, so she got out of bed early this morning, as this was the day set by the fantasy football league for all losers to start their one week of slavery. ...

(story continues from Fantasy Football Slaves) Fantasy Football Slave edition The Tara and Racheal story Editor’s note: All characters are fictional. Chapter 2 January 24, just before noon Sue drove the car to Racheal’s home and as they approached the closed gate, all three were amazed at the size of her estate. They were buzzed in and through the intercom and Sue was instructed to park at the garage and they were to walk to the front door. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift 10: Captain Zana Hoffsteder)_ Chapter 11: The Sister with the Forward Tail The late afternoon sun filled the jungle clearing with a warm glow, casting the grass in gold. There was no silence, just an ongoing chittering from monkeys and the squawk and flutter of exotic birds. Eden had returned to Earth. Then a vast shadow fell over the grasses, and a thundering rumble stilled the animal’s chatter. A moment later, a rope spun down into the grass. A woman, clad in a rubberized suit, slid down the line with expert dexterity, followed by another. The two moved quickly, looping its end around the stump of a long-fallen tree. This done, one of them waved, signaling their accomplishment. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift 11: The Sister with the Forward Tail)_ Chapter 12: Bert51 to the Rescue Bert51 moaned. How had his life come to this? Only a week ago, he’d been happy in the Royal Stables, content to suffer his bondages and to occasionally jolly the lady riders. And now here he was, bound hand and foot with rough hemp ropes, laying on the woven grass carpets in the bedchamber of a juiced up Ecuadorian queen, his body throbbing after being used, molested, probed, licked, tickled, thrust, raped, wrenched, wenched, gnawed, and vacuum-pumped. The queen, it would seem, had had a strong reaction to Lady Goldwaith’s elixir. ...

(story continues from Jill’s Adventure into Total Slavery 4: The Island Home) Part 5: The Reward Jill and Amy talked about their lives and how they got on the island. Amy explained she was a foster child and grew up abused by her foster father and ran away from home when she was 17. In LA, she found a job modeling fetish clothes and slowly learned about the scene and found herself going to clubs and playing with the people there. She enjoyed sex while in bondage and was very open to anything. ...

(story continues from Jill’s Adventure into Total Slavery 5: The Reward) Part 6: A New Slave Arrives A week after Jason and Jill had visited Tom’s company; Tom called asking to delay their visit to Matua, as there was a production problem due to an equipment malfunction. Jason told him fine, but not to hold the visit off any longer than possible. Later that day Jason received a phone call from his friend Frieda, who had introduced Carmen and him to Jill. She asked if he had any need for another slave who was just like Jill. Jason said, “Perhaps, so tell me about her”. Frieda said, “Her name is Doris Williams, and she is an unemployed lawyer due to a scandal and is a pure slave. I know you hire outside lawyers for your needs and she is very brilliant and will fit in nicely with everyone”. ...

(story continues from My Bondage 1: My Bondage Begins) Chapter 2: Life as a Slave Meal time Diane led me by the chain attached to my testicles to the dining room. I saw Pillar busy in the kitchen and soon Janice was serving Diane her dinner. Between mouthfuls Diane looked at me and said, “You might as well be useful. Get under the table and eat me while I eat my dinner. You better do a good job or we will have another session with the crop.” ...

(story continues from My Bondage 2: Life as a Slave) Chapter 3: Games Freedom A couple of days after our terrible punishment Janice and I were again alone on the lawn as she brought me lunch. Trying to mask our actions to avoid further brutal punishment, I lifted the sandwich in front of my mouth and said, “I want to apologize for getting you into trouble and whipped like that. I had no idea of what she would do.” ...

(story continues from My Bondage 3: Games) Chapter 4: On Loan and Escape A first meeting I said that Diane wasn’t really sadistic. The same couldn’t be said for Senora Rodriguez, the wife of Senor, El Colonel, Arturo Rodriguez, the local federal police commander. She visited around the first of each month, presumably to pick up the monthly bribe money. Generally this was an all girl affair with me locked to my bed in the cell while Janice and Pillar had to provide the entertainment. ...

(story continues from My Bondage 4: On Loan and Escape) Chapter 5: Under New Management Plans We had all had at least one orgasm and Janice had her second, the little slut. Actually I didn’t mind that she had more orgasms than me. She was better equipped for multiple orgasms than I was. In addition we had gotten Pillar out of her control belt, I asked what all this master stuff was. I wasn’t expecting them to submit themselves to me. I had expected to find our clothes and figure out a way to go home. ...

(story continues from My Bondage 5: Under New Management) Chapter 6: Problems and Resolution A Very Bad Morning The next morning I gathered up both Janice and Pillar and walked back to the tool shed and compost bin. I took my chastity tube and placed it on the concrete apron and used the shovel to destroy it. I slammed the blade down on the tube repeatedly until the tube was flattened and bent. There was no way anything could ever be inserted into it again. Then I threw the tube onto the compost heap to rust away and hurled the U shaped lock piece along with the chain into the woods. It may have been childish but from my point of view it was also cathartic. ...

Part 1: Fresh From Auction Katrina said a silent prayer during the moment of silence that followed her bid. Somewhere behind her there was a rude comment that she ignored. The flies biting at any exposed flesh they could find were harder to ignore and she swatted at them subconsciously. Her nose wrinkled and eyes watered from the ammonia stench of livestock dung and the body odor of the predominantly male crowd. She was thankful that the slaves were the first items on the docket, ahead of the livestock. She was anxious to be on her way, not only because of the long trip ahead but because this place awakened bad memories. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Evelyn is invited to join a very exclusive club, but she must first be interviewed by the admissions committee and explain why she deserves to be a part of SaM’s very exclusive club. The series begins with her first night at the club and then progresses through the stories she tells the committee to prove she is worthy to become a permanent part of SaM’s Club. The stories are better understood if you have read the previous chapters, but each chapter stands more or less on its own. Chapter one is a set up for the series and contains no explicit sex or other fun stuff like that. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = ...

(story continues from SaM’s Place 1: The Invitation) Part Two Chapter 4: A Punishment and a Demotion Two of the serving slaves were brought forward by the simple process of the rail system dragging them forward by their hair. One, a male, was positioned in front of a pillory-like device. The other, a woman, was positioned a few feet behind him. The pillory had the typical half circle for the hands and head, but there was no upper piece that clamped the arms and head in place. Instead there were two metal rods, somewhat like bicycle handles that were positioned so that the slave could grasp them with his hands. He placed his head and hands in the stocks and grasped the handles. When he did so, a green light came on within the column of the pillory. ...

Chapter One: The Caravan Sarak crept every inch closer, his hands were placed slowly on the ground before him, testing what was beneath his palm and fingers before transferring body weight. Then slowly raising the other hand he repeated the manoeuvrer, hand forward, test, place and bring knee into the spot from whence his hand had come. For almost an hour now he had crept forward on the encampment of this Masan, for almost an hour he had hardly made an iota of noise as he slithered slowly towards the picket line to the south of that camp. And there, attached to the picket line were the seven tired and bedraggled ponygirls. ...

(story continues from Sarak) Part 2 : Sarak learns about Ponygirls Sarak woke to the hum of bees, as they flew through the covering of trees above his head, and that of the glade he had spent the night. His awakening mind listened to the clamour of the bees as they travelled about their business. He heard the tinkle of the brook, as it ran over some stones before dropping into the pool that made up the centre of this peaceful intermission, in an otherwise fairly barren and sparse piece of countryside. The noises drifted through, and he heard further noises, those of horses or ponies as they stamped the grass in the morning light. Sarak woke then in a start, the previous day’s memories flooding through. He stared around him, first locating the six ponygirls, then scanning the undergrowth, then as he stood, looking amongst the trees. Dropping his cloak to the ground, his covering for the night, he stretched and walked to the water’s edge, kneeled and drank his fill. Then rising he gathered the knives he had collected from the fallen Masan, and set off to discover whether he and the ponies were still safe here, alone and without recourse to any other travellers coming upon them. ...

Entry from the S(A)X Leather Bondage Story competition 2005 Catherine Parker is employed by a leading English newspaper, working as a journalist for special features. Based in London for the last few years she has come up through the ranks to become a valued member of her team, and regularly is given international assignments on behalf of the paper. She is 5 foot 4, 28 years old,38 D-21 -36, pretty with long blonde hair, always admired by her male fellow worker’s. but never romances in the office, nicknamed by many around the office as the pocket rocket. ...

(Previous Green Valley Tale: Tales of Green Valley: Volleyball Team) Tales of Green Valley 2: One Way Trip Mistress Summer was actually more of a Madam than a mistress as she ran a very successful ‘house’ called Summer Place, using her string of sex slaves. She was only 36 and quite sexy herself so she did still turn a few tricks herself when she felt the need for some sexual fun or they ran short of girls. ...

(Previous Green Valley Tale: Tales of Green Valley 15: Surprise Party) Tales of Green Valley # 16: Surprise Party, the Aftermath Bill and Susan were talking with James, better known as Minotaur and his girl when Sam and Penny stopped by. It was Saturday, two days after the two girls they had put out as garbage had been picked up and taken off to the landfill. They had learned that Carlos, the usual driver on the route, had been in a wreck and that was why a different truck and driver had come that morning. They had planned for the two bins of garbage to be loaded into a rear loader truck by Carlos, who would have made sure the danger was minimized and let the two girls bound up and bagged like the rest of the garbage escape before they could be dumped in the landfill. The three couples accepted the fact that girls had clearly declared their consent, but regretted the waste of such fun garbage. ...

(Previous Green Valley Tale: Tales of Green Valley 14: More Memories) Tales of Green Valley # 15: Surprise Party (NB: It does not take place in Green Valley, could be anywhere.) 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. ...

(story continues from The Herb Plot 5)_ The Star Fleet Series The Herb Plot- Chapter 6 by Zack The Herb Plot 3 by Zack As the women worked they talked. Petra asked, “Is Queen Narona thriving? I know that one day she will save us from this island and these priests.” Carin answered, “Yes, she’s reforming all of Avorna. She has abolished slavery and freed the serfs. But there is much more yet to be done.” ...

(story continues from The New House Rules 4) Chapter 5 The Saturday morning sun wakes me up first. I am pinned under Taylor’s leg, but squirm loose without waking her. On my tiptoes I slip out of the room and find the shower. It is long and hot and I might have washed the sex off my body, but my mind wanders to last night’s events and my pussy is soaked by the time I towel off. I wrap the towel around me and go to get a cup of coffee. ...

Chapter 1 Life was not going well for Bud, a single fifty year old male, and owner of an expensive home in the Los Angeles metro area. Up until one month ago he had been a contract employee of a super secret organization, which engaged in the most nefarious of enterprises, that being human trafficking. This did not involve the procurement of foreign females for sexual services in the United States. To the contrary attractive American females were abducted from their homes and elsewhere, then sold to buyers in Central America and Mexico. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 11: Strung Up, Bogged Down and Hung Out to Dry) Chapter 12: The Training Room Cathy shut her eyes, curled up into as tight a ball as she could manage, took one last deep breath and prepared herself for the searing pain which she knew couldn’t be more than a microsecond or two away. And sure enough, she felt something strike her left arm and resigned herself to the fact that the spandex cat-suit, which offered next to no protection, was about to be ripped into by either Fang’s dagger-like teeth or his equally effective claws. She could hear and smell the dog’s breath only inches from her head. But something didn’t seem quite right here. ...

(story continues from The Stories of Bound Friends 9: Andrea and the New Normal) Part 10: Sophia and the Unpleasant Arrangement The next few days after Carl’s death were slow and painful for Sophia. She met with a lawyer who said the contract could be passed down just like it could be sold, and so all the same restrictions apply. Which was especially terrible because there was then no one to give her permission to do the things she needed permission to do. And with the contract transferring ownership, she would likely be under extra scrutiny. She couldn’t ever be sure she had a moment where she could be free to break the rules without being noticed. ...

(story continues from The Stories of Bound Friends 10: Sophia and the Unpleasant Arrangement) Part 11: Lea and the Consequences of Actions Lea was marched down to a waiting van in the lower garage wearing only her glasses and her clear restraints. She was loaded into the back of a van where another woman already sat. The auburn haired girl wore the same clear cuffs with clear wire connecting to a centre ring at both her wrists and ankles. Her ankle’s centre ring was clipped onto the floor with a simple spring loaded clip; her wrist’s centre ring was held by a hook that retracted into the roof of the van. Soon Lea found herself similarly bound before the staff shut the door leaving the two alone in the van. ...

(story continues from The Stories of Bound Friends 11: Lea and the Consequences of Actions) Part 12: Sophia and the Giving of Thanks Sophia sat kneeling in the bedroom of a villa suite. She wore her slave collar, her wrists were in shackles behind her and attached by an extra chain to the back of her collar. Her legs were in another set of shackles that were held by a retracted hook to the floor. The switch for the hook was on the wall, no way for her to reach it and free her legs. She wore no clothes, shiny metal studs adorned her nipples and clit, and she was blindfolded. She knew the mixed prospects of being lent out to a guest full time, given there were almost no restrictions to what a guest could do to her. They did not tell her how long it would be, but had hinted it would be multiple days. ...

(story continues from The Stories of Bound Friends 12: Sophia and the Giving of Thanks) Part 13: Lea and the Unexpected Companion “Alright Leota, are you almost finished?” Marian asked as she barged into the hotel room Lea had been staying and working in the past few days. Lea looked up from her computer wearing only a bathrobe, nervous about how to respond. She knew that as soon as she was finished with her project she had the remainder of her two week sentence to return to. “Well, can we start printing collars or not?” Marian continued. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 9: Wheel of Pleasure/Pain) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Combat can be punishment… at least for the loser. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 10: Punishment by Combat) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = There is no way slave missy can win this lottery. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 11: The Lottery) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy attends Lucinda’s Schooltime Academy. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 2: A Day of Repentance) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Convicted of terrorism, Vicki is sentenced to penal slavery Vicki, a young woman who works for a large department store, figures out a way to bypass the electronic return tags on expensive dresses sold by the store where she works . This allows her to buy dresses on a Friday, wear them to events over the weekend, and return them on Monday. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 3: The first day of punishment) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Convicted of terrorism, Vicki is sentenced to penal slavery Vicki, a young woman who works for a large department store, figures out a way to bypass the electronic return tags on expensive dresses sold by the store where she works . This allows her to buy dresses on a Friday, wear them to events over the weekend, and return them on Monday. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 5: Old-fashioned Reformed School Punishment) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy is caned by a robot. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 6: Madison Robotic Discipline System) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy endures a variety of water punishments. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...

Entry from the S(A)X Leather Bondage Story competition 2005 Do you ever get the feeling that your life is a waste? That everything you do is nothing more then a time killer? That was my life. If one seeks to find personal enlightment and fulfillment, then having a desk job will most likely not get you there. Day in, day out, doing endless paperwork and forms. Taking coffee breaks. Eating doughnuts in the staff lounge. Five days a week, four weeks a month, twelve months a year. It just didn’t end. As one can imagine, I was desperate for something different. Something new, something exciting. So, one day while at my desk, I asked God for help. “God.” I thought. “Can you help me get out of this mess? I want something new, something fulfilling” ...