Trystl

Author's Note: Been awhile since I’ve posted here. Been focusing on doing illustrations for my stories using DAZ3D and kind of lost track of this site. This particular story is another one with more story than bondage–for those who enjoy that. 8:15 p.m. Omega Day Ten years ago, my best friend, Tod, killed his wife. He caught Alicia sleeping with another man (something she’d been doing frequently behind his back for years) and in a fit of jealous rage, he shot her dead. Tod never seemed like the jealous type; always claimed to trust his wife implicitly. Even when I tried to tell him (in a tactful way) that she couldn’t be trusted, he refused to believe me. ...

Author's Note: This is a relatively short and very mild story about a Vampire’s chattel. Most of the “bondage” element is implied or of a psychological nature. Mind-control because… they’re vampires! Bondage because… the main character IS bound, although I spend very little time describing it. You are forewarned. Marisa is hunting again. I can see that she’s surfing the Internet as I set the drink she requested down on the table beside her and wait to see if she’ll need anything else. I know she knows I’m watching her. It doesn’t take a psychic to figure that out. But I always wonder what it means when she doesn’t reprimand me for it. ...

Author's Note: This story is based on a drawing by Raul Fernando. If you’ve seen it, you may recognize which one before the story is finished. “Okay, boys,” Mary said. “Have fun at the movies and all. We’ll meet you at my house afterwards.” Johnny grinned and gave me a wink. “And you girls have fun shopping.” From the arch leading to the kitchen I watched them leave: Johnny, my boyfriend, and his two best friends, Kenny and Tim. Johnny turned when he reached the front door. “I love you,” he mouthed silently, looking at me with that beautiful smile-attractiveness runs in his family. Then he flipped down the collar of his coat and walked out into the cold winter air. ...

“Oh my God,” Mandy and Derrick both said at the same time when Lori walked in on them. For a moment she just looked at them with those big unbelieving eyes of hers. Then, without a word, she backed up and closed the bedroom door behind her, as if she thought maybe they hadn’t see her looking right at them. Mandy looked over at him in alarm. “Don’t let her leave,” she said, as she jumped up and started pulling on her shorts. ...

Author's Note: The original version of this story was the first mainstream story that I ever wrote. Recently, I got the idea to rewrite it with a bondage theme, and in some ways I think it actually works better (at the metaphorical level) this way. That said, the story is definitely a bit heavier on the story than it is on the bondage; but that’s not all that uncommon for my work, I think. ...

Author's Note: The story codes may imply a more graphic level of story violence than is actually delivered–but the theme is decidedly dark. I can’t believe this is happening, Sara Johnson thought to herself. How did I ever let myself get trapped with a husband like this? He’d seemed like such a catch at the time. Sara’s arms were bound tightly behind her back, in a Japanese style chest harness; she was lying on a musty mattress, still damp from her own urine. He’d left her bound for what seemed like days; then punished her when he found she hadn’t held her water, by looping a rope around her waist and tying it off with a slip knot. As he’d pulled the rope tight she’d felt her organs sloshing around inside her as they adjusted to the new shape of her body. It was an odd feeling, not too unlike mud being squished through her toes. He’d tied the end of the waist-rope to the mass of knots behind her back, tugging to make it as tight as he possibly could. Even with her back arched the rough fibers of the rope tore at the tender flesh between her legs. ...

1 Greg’s front door was made of thick patterned glass that broke up the light, making it difficult to tell what was on the other side; but when Mandy rang the doorbell she noticed a splotch of tan color moving and knew someone had been kneeling in the foyer on the other side of the door. Obviously, Greg had tasked one of his slaves with waiting for her arrival. It was almost enough to make Mandy feel guilty for being so late-but not quite. ...

Author's Note: If you’re just looking for straight bondage without a story, be warned. The first chapter starts out VERY slowly–but ut it will pick up rapidly in chapter 2, and stays reasonably strong in subsequent chapters. I’m not sure what the policy is on placing tags. Do I put what this chapter merits, or do I put what’s in the whole story? I’m going to go for the later, since I don’t expect many will want to start a story they’ll later find out they don’t want to read. I tried to put the the various codes in relative order to how dominant they are in the story. ...

Author's Note: This short story is one of the relatively few things I’ve written that is completely consensual. It’s relatively light on bondage or other erotic themes too. It’s more of a psychological exploration, I think. 1 “Good girl,” Dr. Paul said as he gave Mariliu a loving pat on the top of her fur-covered head. He pronounced her name like Merrilee-you, and she liked that. Not only was it pretty and exotic; it was also a good description of how she felt most of the time these days. She licked her lips, enjoying the slightly bitter taste of the fluid that was already drying at the corners of her mouth; then she stuck her head back in his lap and began to clean him off as well. ...

Author's Note: There are also some illustrations for this story that can be found at Deviant Art and Visionsofdarkness. Happy hunting. Chapter 1 I’ve always been the kind of person who likes to listen to songs that have a personal meaning in my life. Lately, I’d been listening to White Flag, by Dido, a lot-so much, in fact that I know when I finally stop listening to it I would probably never want to hear the song again. ...