Studio

Silent Street is one of the ancient thoroughfares in the town of Ipswich in Suffolk, England. No one knows for certain how the name came about, but one theory is that, during an outbreak of plague in 1665, the death toll amongst the residents of this street was particularly high, and thereafter the area fell ‘silent’. The story below, however, gives a more modern twist as to why the name might be apt! ...

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. William checked his reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his trousers for the fifth time and made sure his shoes were clean and polished. He wondered if he should have asked for a shorter haircut and chose his blue shirt rather than the green. Maybe they wouldn’t matter to her. Maybe she won’t notice. Won’t notice… Would she just brush him off as another admirer? She must have dozens. Probably professional athletes, businessmen and maybe even those with family titles. A young university student may be beneath her. Worse than that. A student still living with his mother and needing to take the bus and the tube to get around the city. Oh, why did he think he could even get within a mile of 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 one Part 2 William looked down at the model. Those eyes, nose and mouth were becoming more recognizable. Why didn’t he see it before? ...

story continues from part two Part Three Chapter Five Tammy awoke behind the wheel of her car. She couldn’t recall how she got there, but was very much relieved not to still be in Sweet’s Bakery. She knew she would have to deal with Natasha and the humiliation of the cake molds in the near future as well as the ‘Sweets’ revised impression of her. However right now, her main concern was getting this ordeal over and making sure Chandra was okay. “That was very entertaining, Mrs. Dufrane…” James VanNorkin’s voice suddenly filled her ears. “I’m going to be the first to order a special cake from Natasha. Perhaps, I’ll send it to Mike as a Christmas gift… That way he can have his cake and eat you too…” His laugh grated on her and there were several things she would love to say to him, but none of them would be of help to her. And trying to speak would be useless, she could feel that the gag plug had been replaced and re-inflated. She also thought she felt more and raised her hand to her cheek. The smooth rubber of the mouth corset gave hint of the underlying presence of the strap for the ring gag beneath it. Now she was triple gagged. “I see you modified your dress. I must say it’s not quite as subtly erotic as before, but I like it. By the way I see my hormone mixture is working very well… I must inform Karl, he’ll be very amused to hear so…” he continued. “They’ve grown even more. And it appears they are continuing to do so. I could enjoy staring at them all day, but time is passing, Mrs. Dufrane… You need to be moving on. Your next stop is all the way across the city…” Tammy blinked several times in disbelief as she used the rear view mirror to look at her exposed breasts. She had already taken enough grief from all her male co-workers and clients, with their eyes continually turning down from hers to stare at her D-cups. There was no way now she’d be able to get any of them to look away from her chest. “OH NO!” Tammy gasped into her gags. The GPS coming to life with Chandra’s image well bound by bandages lying halfway submerged in liquid on her back in a tank grabbed her complete attention. “As you can see I decided to keep the bandages thoroughly soaked with Karl’s aphrodisiac.” James VanNorkin laughed. “You were very much occupied, so I felt Chandra should be as well. Of course your desires for constant sexual release come naturally. Chandra’s on the other hand will be given a push. A rather large push once she has absorbed all of the liquid in the tank into her system. I seriously doubt if Nora and Gina combined will be able to satisfy her…” The tone of his words more than the actual threat they imposed sent a wave of anger through Tammy. “MU MAMAMD!” She screamed into the gag looking directly into the GPS with flames of fire spurting from her green eyes. “Bastard? Did you just call me a bastard, Mrs. Dufrane?” His voice was now sounding irritated. “Well, if I’m such a bastard then I suppose I need to adjust such comfortable surroundings…” Tammy grimaced as soon as she spoke. Her desire was to help Chandra not make matters worse for her. However the sound of the car heater shutting off told her Chandra wasn’t the one he was directing his ire at this time. Not only did the heater quit, but the air conditioning system jumped to life and directed a blast of near artic air at her chest and very wet nether region. ...

Stephanie had been the star of drama school, getting the highest honours possible, however her career in films was not moving quite in the direction she desired. Ironically being 22, blonde, very pretty and exceedingly big breasted, meant all she seemed to get was offers to work in adult movies which wasnt what she wanted to do. Don’t get me wrong she was no prude, but she just wanted to get herself a meaningful acting career. ...

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. ...

Danielle Leslie sat impatiently in her dressing room, waiting to be called to the rehearsal room nearby. A former Olympic athlete, Danielle had turned several gold medals in gymnastics into a blossoming movie career. Danni could at this point, be fussy about what parts she accepted. She had recently received a script trying to revive the “swords and sandals” epics of some years past, and Danni had only glanced through it at first, not really interested in being a damsel in distress in an ancient middle east fictional kingdom, her father betrayed and replaced by her evil uncle, and her fiancé and lover leading the resistance. ...

Evangeline and John locked the door of the studio and hurried into the next room, looking around them. “There’s no telling when they’ll be here — we’ll have to move fast. The only important thing is to get you out of here.” The pretty 20-year-old nodded, fighting back her fear. Her cell leader turned to her and took her by the shoulders. “There’s only one way. Do you trust me?” ...

Extreme Magic Vignette: Studio sawing The studio was quite noisy, mostly with the chatter of the audience, seated in the steep ranks of seating on one side of the vast space. Between them and the flat white expanse of floor were several studio cameras with their operators, each checking in with the gallery and readying themselves for they had been told would be an interesting evenings filming. Audience had been briefed to stay mostly quiet unless the man introduced as Bob, the studio manager, held up a card for a reaction. He was earnestly speaking into the microphone of his head set. He went and stood in the middle of the floor and began waving his arms, causing the audience to quieten enough that he could be heard. ...

_Author's Note:_Another quickie . I’m sure many of us have had similar ideas when watching the commercials. This may read a lot like a re-tread, but it deals with images I enjoy.* “And…CUT!” The director called out. “That’s a wrap people. See you all again on Monday.” Carly Foulkes let out a relieved sigh and climbed off the Kawasaki ZX10 that sat on the stage in front of a large ‘Green Screen’ used for special effects. “Any longer on that damn bike and I’d be walking like a cowboy for a month.” She thought bemusedly to herself, as she pulled off the full-face crash helmet. The last hour of taping had required her to keep the helmet’s face shield down the majority of the time. That, combined with the heat from all the lighting had given her waterproof makeup a run for its money. Still, the warm air of the studio felt cool against her flush skin. Unfortunately for the moment, her hair and face were the only things benefitting from exposure to “fresh” air. That was because Carly was still clad in the sponsor’s signature, black and magenta colored leather catsuit. Of course, no one associated with the commercial openly called it that. Be it referred to as a “costume, riding togs, leathers” whatever, all knew that it personified the oldest adage in advertising. Sex sells. And Carly was selling it big time. Hokey as it might sound, she looked as if her shapely, 5'9" frame had been poured into the leather garment. Add to that the feline grace with which she walked, even while wearing the high heeled boots and the cell phone carrier’s profits had almost doubled. Her compensation for this had made sweating buckets during each shoot infinitely more tolerable. Still, as she “squished” back to her dressing room, the crew rapidly breaking down equipment in anticipation for the upcoming weekend, Carly briefly longed for the early days as spokeswoman when all she had to wear was a frilly pink dress. “I’ll be in shorts and a tee, drinking ice cold Evian in less than 10 minutes.” The actress reminded herself. Carly was smiling at this image as she entered her dressing room. The smile vanished in confusion and beneath a large cloth which suddenly covered the lower half of her face. At the same time, a powerful arm wrapped around her torso trapping her arms. The cloth felt damp and cool, but also seemed to burn her skin. When she gasped in surprise, her eyes, nose and throat began to burn as well. Knowing that something was wrong, if not exactly what, she began to thrash instinctively. “That’s it baby, fight me!” Whispered a familiar, yet uncharacteristically menacing voice in her ear. This only exacerbated Carly’s confusion which, even under these circumstances, seemed to have blossomed drastically out of proportion. The actress twisted and grunted whilst trying to call for help. With each of these efforts, she drew more of the noxious fumes into her lungs. Rapidly, her confusion seemed to grow less important. In fact, the need for, or ability to frame any rational thought felt less and less imperative. Ignoring a far off cry of caution, Carly toppled into the welcoming arms of oblivion. “Confusion” seemed to be the watchword of the day. As Carly slowly awoke, her body taking a languid inventory, the actress registered an assortment of aches, pains and other “oddities”. She fumbled to remember what had taken place. Had she recently gone through a particularly grueling Tae-Bo class? Had she and her boyfriend enjoyed a night of exceptionally energetic sex? None of the pieces seemed to fall into place. Her shoulders, arms and legs ached as if just having worked out, but that didn’t explain the ache in her jaw. Her breasts hurt and her sex felt weird, but that didn’t explain the crush on her head and torso, nor the semi-urgent need to defecate. Figuring it was time to wake up and work things out, Carly decided to get the blood flowing with a good old fashioned stretch. It was when nothing happened that she put it all together. “I’m tied up!” She realized. Straining once more, it hit her at what an understatement that was. She could hardly move! “hhhmmnnnngffff!!!” The beauty called for help. She was dumbfounded into silence at how muted her cry was. Belatedly, she became cognizant of how her gaping mouth was filled to overflowing by a spongy mass. She tried to spit it out, but her tongue was trapped beneath the dense packing. She tried to close her mouth, but the pressure of the stuff kept her jaw jacked wide open. Something narrow bit into the corners of her mouth passed around her head and dug into the base of her skull with particular ferocity. Carly tried to reach up and rip the abomination away. That’s when the mystery of her aching shoulders was solved. Her arms wouldn’t budge! More accurately, they were crushed together behind her back from fingertips to elbows and beyond. She kicked out desperately, but her legs remained stubbornly folded. In an odd observation amongst all this disturbing discovery, Carly noted that she could feel the heels of her boots pressing into her butt cheeks. This spurred the realization that she could feel the familiar cling of the catsuit all over her body. “Back amongst the living, are we?” Said a voice off to her right. The actress whipped her head that way, dread sweeping over her as it was clear that that was all she could move. Her wide, frightened eyes settled on her director sitting casually in a nearby chair. He was holding a camera and on the floor next to him was a monitor facing in her direction. It took a long moment for Carly to realize that the person in the image was her. When in costume, she was accustomed to seeing nothing but leather from the neck down. But now she gazed upon the color coordinated “accessories” to her advertising persona. Some kind of ‘sleeve’ trapped her arms behind her keeping them perpetually straight. Carly strained once more against it, the sleeve’s gleaming black and magenta surface hardly flexing. She wriggled her fingers what little they could. She couldn’t feel her sweaty fingers or palms and deduced she was still wearing the costume’s tight gloves. 2" wide leather straps (matching color scheme of course) pinned her arms to her spine by passing around her ridiculously reduced torso. Some sort of waist cincher or corset squeezed her midsection without pause, eliminating any hope of bending or twisting. More of the same straps kept her legs folded. She couldn’t be sure, but it felt like they’d been strapped individually and then together. Above where the leather ended, things were no better. The least distressing feature was her hair, which had been gathered into a tight ponytail high on the back of her head. Substantially more distressing, was a one inch leather strap bisecting a magenta mass that looked to be trying to spill from her gaping mouth. “ggnnnnmmffff!” Carly grunted, involuntarily screen testing the gag for the camera. The director chuckled, tossing a foam ball almost 6" in diameter up in the air. It was the exact same color as what peeked out between Carly’s painted lips. “Kids aren’t the only ones who can play with these.” He said. “I must say, I had a hell of a time cramming it all into that pretty mouth of yours.” Carly wouldn’t have believed it possible that such a large object would fit in her mouth if she weren’t experiencing the devastating effect first hand. “nnnnnghhhh!” She grunted in a combination of discomfort, anger and bafflement. She wanted out and she wanted out NOW! Explanations (and apologies and lawsuits) could come later. Carly thrashed at her restraints in a panic-fueled fury, unconsciously keeping track of her progress in the monitor. Although she knew exactly how much effort she was exerting to break free, it did not reflect on the TV screen. At best, it looked like she was writhing in slow motion. Exhaustion quickly overtook her and she lay there gasping, her body drenched with sweat beneath her leather second skin. “Well,” the director said, “that was quite a little tiff. God, actors can be so hard to work with. And we’re not even done with your costume yet.” “First, a little something to enhance your ‘Damsel in Distress’ motivation.” He fixed the camera to a squat tripod and strolled over. Using his foot, he rolled Carly on to her side then knelt beside her. With great apprehension (and helplessness) the actress looked down to follow his actions. She noticed three rubber hoses with bulbs at their ends trailing away from her catsuit. One was at her chest, the other two from a strap that descended from the corset and dove down between her legs. Only now did Carly notice the firm pressure against her crotch, the strictness of her other bonds overshadowing it. The spokeswoman tried to twist away from her assailant with negligible results as he reached for the hose at her chest. She could do nothing to prevent whatever he planned to do next. “I do apologize for having to take certain liberties in your preparation.” He explained remorselessly. With that, he began squeezing the bulb. Almost immediately, Carly felt a tightening around the base of each breast. This was quickly accompanied by an uncomfortable “prickling” sensation consuming each tit. The brunette tried to flinch away from the sensation, but her breasts had nowhere to go. She looked up at the director in distraught puzzlement. “An inflatable rubber bra with rubber spiked lining.” He answered her unable-to-be-spoken question. “Although quite stiff and sharp, the spikes won’t pierce your skin. That is, unless you struggle too hard.” By the time he disconnected the hose, Carly thought her breasts had been placed over hot coals. She tried to twist or shrink away from the horrible sensation, but could find no respite. She quickly discovered that any attempt to shy away only caused her more grief. Tears welled up in her eyes, eyes which pleaded with him to let her go. His expression told her he had no such inclination. Instead, he began squeezing the first of the two bulbs lower down. To her horror, she felt something expanding inside her vagina. It rapidly grew to proportions she’d never experienced during intercourse. He stopped pumping somewhere between extremely uncomfortable and agonizing. Throughout the process, Carly had kept up a stream of muffled protests, complaints and pleas, none of which did her any good. “Boy,” he said as he disconnected the hose, “if you’re gonna raise that much of a fuss over that, you’re probably not going to like this at all.” Squeezing the last bulb, Carly’s eyes shot wide as something began to expand in her rectum. She went ballistic, having never diddled with her back passage in the past. Her doubled up legs tried to knock his hands away while at the same time she tried to squirm in any direction but here. Her breasts started to scream “Knock It Off!” but she kept trying. And the probe kept inflating. By the time he disconnected the last hose, the brunette beauty was writhing like a hypothermic eel. When exhaustion finally put a halt to her escape attempts she was no better off. As she lay there, she realized that remaining motionless caused her the least amount of intolerable duress. Her eyes were drawn once more to the monitor. The flush face and tearing eyes on the screen only hinted at the perverse depth of what she was experiencing. “You never knew that acting could be so fulfilling did you?” He said. “Well, that takes care of the inside, let’s finish with the rest of your costume.” He callously rolled Carly back on to her stomach. The jabbing at her breasts trebled but she dare not attempt to rock back on her side. Her “nnnnnmmmphh!” was more groan than protest. She watched him with disinterested interest, her brain still trying to wrap itself around her predicament. He approached with yet more leather, color coordinated as usual. “This should help quiet your incessant yapping.” He said. Carly’s world went dark as something was pulled up over her face. Her vision did return, but she found that she’d lost most of her peripheral vision. She felt leather enveloping her head accompanied by a yanking on her ponytail. The thick skin shifted as the director made some minor adjustments. And then the whole thing began to shrink as a fierce tugging pulled her head up involuntarily. It continued to shrink until not a millimeter of her head escaped the squeeze. Although she could still see, the sensation was stifling and claustrophobic. “mmmmmnnnnh!” Carly groaned, the sound emanating more inside her head than out. ...

I am going to die of embarrassment when the media course open up tomorrow, thought Sarah. If I don’t actually die first! This is unbearable, I’m a physical wreck already and there is no way we can do anything about our situation, and if this doesn’t kill us I am going to murder Vicky myself! Vicky meanwhile was having similar thoughts, being found here like this was going to destroy any chance of being taken seriously as a journalist. ...

Movie Extras Wanted: Women 24-26 yrs old, 5’ 6", slender, D-cup, black hair, green eyes. By mid-morning Annie’s inbox already had ten copies of the casting call, forwarded from various friends and family members who all knew about her dreams of getting ‘discovered.’ They couldn’t believe how perfectly Annie fit the description. Annie herself had seen the ad as soon as she woke up. She considered herself an amateur extra by that point, and she always checked for new postings first thing in the morning. ...

story continued from chapter two part 1 Chapter II: Married Bliss, Part 2 “KIM.” The sun was filling the kitchen with light. Kim had gotten up early and was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and her laptop trying to edit her feature length basement bondage video into the short clip it was meant to be. Let’s give her a few more minutes, Kim thought while savoring another sip from her mug. ...

Jolene wanted to be an actress but a year after moving to LA she had only done one commercial even though she was a true beauty with large firm breasts a thin tan body and a face with large almond shaped green eyes and full lips that could melt the hardest heart, she had just not been getting the roles she had been auditioning for. Jolene’s rent was past due and she had to stop using the A/C in her small apartment because she could not afford the electricity, she had been auditioning so much that she had lost the waitress job near her apartment and was now desperate for earning some money. ...

(story continues from The Seduction) Part 2 “But why not?!” “Because I said so.” Andi pouted. “You sound like Dad.” “And you sound like a whining child.” She reached out and took his hand. “Sorry, Uncle Phil, but that may have worked when I was six, not twenty-six.” Phil sighed. “Several reasons. For starters I wouldn’t be comfortable doing it. I never married, never had kids, don’t have all that baggage, but you’re still my niece. It would be too overtly sexual.” ...

This story was an entry for the Kink Engineering Vacbed Story Contest 2009 She called herself “Alexa T.” When she started modeling, the almost-anagram for Latex was just a spur of the moment invention, which she intended to replace with something better later on. But her first few sessions with Patrick came out so well, she was an instant hit, and so she was stuck with it. Still, there are worse fates in life than to be an internationally famous fetish model. The clothes, the travel, the parties, it was a dizzying whirlwind. Everyone wanted her, from the top designers to the best photographers, and she was determined to enjoy every minute of it while it lasted. ...

Kim had been a bondage novice, although she was a well respected Bondage photographer, she hadn’t had much experience at being tied up until now, then she began to experiment with tying herself… Kim travelled down the highway, her mind not on the traffic but on her coming plans for the weekend, she was on her way to her secluded cabin, set in the midst of a wood. Her nearest neighbour was 20 miles away over some rough country or by road at least 35 miles. She’d brought the property with money she’d been left after her parents had died in an air crash, they had left her quite a sum of money plus the insurance payout, enough to pay off her debts, buy this property & resign from her boring office job. She was now a freelance photographer, something she had wanted to do since leaving college. ...

story continued from chapter two part 2 Chapter II: Married Bliss, Part 3 Author’s note: In the first ‘Perils’ story Rachel’s last name is Browne, so her father’s last name should have been Browne. Instead of referring to my story notes I relied on memory, which never ends well for me, and referred to Rachel’s father as Mr. Meadows in ‘Perils II’. Because it was only mentioned once in the first story, the last name of Rachel and her father will be Meadows. I apologize for any confusion. ...

“I don’t know.” “Yasmine, I need the money.” “But porn?” “I like to think of it as portraiture.” “Uh huh.” “With ropes.” “Oh, Christ.” “He’s very nice.” “Meaning?” “Meaning he’s very nice. Kind of fatherly.” “Kind of like an old pervert.” “No! He’s not.” “Uh huh. So when are you going to do this.” “In about 30 minutes.” “Today?!” “Well, yeah.” “Where?” “At his place.” “I’m coming with you.” “Oh?” ...