Stories

Tempest Bannister was close, she could sense it. Months of research through dusty libraries was about to pay off. She’d heard rumors of hidden vaults among the old Moorish ruins in the Highlands, but bit by bit, she’d pieced together information that told her that these were more than just folklore. Tempest was more adventurer than archeologist. Rather like Lara Croft (Though she thought of that character as a mere amateur, in addition to being a work of fiction). She’d always been fascinated by items from the distant past. After receiving her degree in the field, she’d either been lucky enough or talented enough to make several remarkable discoveries. She preferred to think of it as the latter. ...

9-4-8-7 Kira Petrova pressed the numbers in order and the lockbox unlatched to reveal the key within. She inserted the key into the front door and opened it. With a garment bag over one shoulder, she dragged her duffel in behind her as she switched on the lights. She surveyed what would be her new home for the next several months, and hopefully longer. The house was is better condition than she expected. When Cirque informed her that they recently purchased it from a fraternity, she thought it would be in some advanced state of disrepair, but it appeared to be in fine condition. She should know by now - Cirque are professionals. They expedited her work visa with impressive speed, there should be no reason to think they would house their performers in substandard conditions. The house was near UNLV, which made it conveniently close to the Las Vegas Strip, where she would be performing nightly in their new show. ...

Author's Note: Something I wrote a while back for another site. Thought I’d share On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t have said yes. This experience has turned out to be much more than what I expected. The amazing combination of discomfort- muscles and joints pulled into places where they don’t belong- and the tightness is almost too much. My body is completely invaded… My mouth is open enough to breathe, though the hood blocks all but muffled sounds. I can’t speak because my face feels constricted, pressed tight all around by the delicious leather. The inescapable smell is enough to send me to the brink of orgasm. ...

Miranda sat at her computer, scanning the data on machine performance and looking for the tell-tale signs of impending issues. After a long day of programming, database maintenance, and control system recalibration, she always performed this check to help identify the machines that might break down in the next day or two. If she found anything, she’d schedule preventative maintenance to avoid the issue. “Preventative maintenance,” she thought to herself. “I could use some of that.” ...

Author's Note: The majority of this story is true—I was directed by Mistress Jennifer to write her a story that very closely mirrored our relationship. The Dream Lover element is fiction, but she assures me that she plans on making it happen :). Part One The alarm clock rang and a hand appeared out from under the blankets and after 4 failed attempts was able to hit the “off” button. The hand belonged to Jennifer and the scene looked no different than that played out in millions of bedrooms at 7:00AM on a Wednesday—someone reluctantly getting up for work after a long night. Jennifer started to rub her eyes when she suddenly seemed to have remembered something important. She quickly hopped out of bed, ran over to her desk and hit some random keys until her screen began to glow and come to life. ...

Author's Note: This is another write up of a true story, about six months ago “Reneé” emailed me describing how she and her now husband had got into bondage and asked if I’d write a short story based on their experience. I’ve obviously changed quite a few details to protect their identities but I really wanted to leave as much intact as possible. Let me know what you think, I’m a little concerned that I wrapped up the tale a little too early but I wanted to keep this one as close to what happened as possible rather than extrapolate and just write pure fiction - if you’re looking for that click my author name… There are plenty in there! ...

Author's Note: I am very active in Second Life and have several novella length fetish fiction stories available there. So if you enjoyed this come into SL and say hi. Katrinka Karu!! Chapter 1 Chloe heard the staccato clicks of heels outside of her apartment and couldn’t resist hurrying to the door’s peephole to have a look. The building catered to wealthy, single patrons – the very reason Chloe chose it. Still single at thirty-something, she hoped to parlay her wealth and attractiveness into a long-term relationship. Unfortunately, the only other tenant on this floor was Mr. Jenkins, and while he was an attractive candidate, he seemed both reclusive and standoffish. She’d only spoken with him twice, and he seemed uninterested in her attentions. ...

Author's Note: Fiction? Perhaps, but more than likely an underground reality. Part 1 Daria had become quickly bored with her husband Richard. Although he was was quite wealthy and heir, along with his younger sister,Penelope, to the Bottomly fortune it was being held in trust till his 25th birthday. She couldn’t stand the thought of of spending another 7 months with him and acting the part of his trophy wife at fundraisers, corporate affairs, exclusive clubs and restaurants and at symphony and theatre engagements. For her, they were maddenly dull. Her taste was more for Vegas, the LA party scene, Cabo and in general a louder gaudier free spending lifestyle. She was a gorgeous blonde with the opulent body of a 50’s Mamie Van Duren type blonde buxom bombshell. But with the morals and predatory instincts of a dangerous femme fatale out of darkest film noir. And she wanted it all. The entire Bottomly fortune and she wanted it now. ...

Author's Note: Feedback is always welcome, as are story ideas and possibly requests. Chapter One The creaky uneven wood floors make a staccato counterpoint to the click of her heels as she crossed the room. Dim shadows and whispers of passing cars on the snow-covered street add to the feeling of being alone and helpless. A few hours ago several customers had sorted through the racks of second hand clothing, but the doors were locked now and the old building had only one inhabitant. ...

Author's Note: You asked for it so here it is ! The sequel to ‘When in Rome…’ In publishing this, I suspect I may be setting myself up to fail; sequels have a habit of disappointing. However, the original received such a positive response that I felt I should try to write a little more about Sally and Mark and their travels if, for no other reason than to give me the opportunity to thank you all for your feedback. It gives me a real buzz to see that people have enjoyed (or at least reacted) to my writing. ...