Mark Jennings thought he had it made. He was very successful in Business. He was never had problems securing a date from some of the most attractive women in the city. The only thing missing was the trophy wife. Sure, when he needed an escort to a formal business function there was no shortage of women who were willing to accompany him to such functions. The problem was what happened when they opened their mouth. ...
Lindsey Stirling had just left Panera Bread after getting her favorite breakfast dish there. As she was walking out a man comes up behind her and uses chloroform to knock her out. A few hours later she wakes up naked and with her hair in a ponytail in an abandoned looking wheelhouse full of machinery. Even though she can’t see outside she knows it’s nighttime due to it being quite chilly in the warehouse and due to her nipples being rock hard from exposure to the chilly air in the warehouse. As she begins to explore the warehouse she trips and falls onto a conveyor belt. Detecting an object on the belt the dormant machinery in the old motorcycle factory quickly comes to life. ...
Part 1 My beautiful wife and I are renovating our house by the lake. To save money at first, my wife did the work herself but, it cost a lot to finish the jobs. Then she hired the trades and that cost even more because with extra workers, she could do what seemed like endless additional jobs. I came home the other night to a new twist to an old renovation idea. My wife wanted to hire a general contractor who could hire even more expensive trades and do even more and more jobs. All she really wanted was to remove the roof from the house and replace it with the one my wife said that she “always really wanted” and it will take only 8 working days and a lot of money. Needless to say I said “No way!” I would be working like a slave to this construction job and I couldn’t see any reason to give in…. ...
Author's Note: I wouldn’t exactly call myself a writer of erotic fiction, preferring to engage in lighter fair. However, there are times, late at night, when a particularly odd idea will formulate in my head. These are those odd ideas come to light. Mostly, my tales will tilt towards the erotic horror, the story twisting somewhere dark in the final chapters. Though, I will admit to the romantic. Occasionally I go there and put forth something with more substance and emotion. ...
Author's Note: In ‘The Pony Race’, Bryony (also know as the ponygirl ‘Sticky Fingers’) enlisted the help of athletics coach, Mike to help her prepare for the annual village Mares’ race. The intense and rather kinky nature of their training drew the two of them into an intimate relationship and exposed Bryony’s submissive nature. Eighteen months later, the couple remain in the village of Mares-de-Launce, with Bryony living as Mike’s slave… ...
Author's Note: Professional sports coach, Mike, is asked by amateur athlete, Bryony, for some help in preparing for her local race. From the title you can guess what it might involve. I was going to publish this in two parts as it has taken some time to write but there have been a couple of cracking stories of this length in the last couple of months (well done to Alcatraz for ‘Phoenix’ and Southrook for ‘The Kingdom’) so here it is in it’s entirety… ...
Author's Note: (This is series inspired by a short from Gromet’s Plaza: “The Box” by yourdbtop. It started as a writing experiment using only 1st and 2nd person pronouns, but I’ve been having too much fun with it since. I decided to share it piece by piece; if others enjoy it, perhaps I’ll keep going. Forewarning that while I love to be very descriptive, this is still a penned fantasy and not meant to be realistic. If you’re the type to complain about realism, consider leaving now.) ...
Claire was a sight to behold. Bright blue eyes radiated from her tan face, framed by honey-blonde hair that went past her shoulders. Her shoulders were bare, as were most of her bosom and her entire back. A flimsy layer of shiny, silk-like material seemed to cover her nipples, seemingly floating along just in front of them. It hid little; just enough to be tantalizing. The slinky, shiny material seemed to cling to the underside of her boobs and flow down her front, often sticking to her toned belly. A belly chain sat just on top of her hips, circling the outside of the silky fabric as it flowed down past her hips. Below the waist, Claire wore a flirty skirt that seemed on the virge of riding up in front, and showed tiny glimpses of her amazing ass in the back. Starting just a couple inches below that, her stiff black boots ran down to her feet, perfectly molding her thighs, calves, ankles, and feet into the sexiest shape possible. They were so stiff that she couldn’t bend her ankles or knees, and this caused her to sway her hips more and take more steps, swinging her lovely chest and beautiful ass that much more. ...
I’d lusted after her for some time. Having followed her through the small amount of modeling she had done, I had grown to be an avid fan. Not only because she was innocent and beautiful, but also because it was clear how much she loved bondage and submission. Living the life of a fetish model, I was always surprised that she complained as much to me about not being able to truly submit. Her last boyfriend was handsome for sure, but not into the “scene” as they say, and constantly disapproving of her work in bondage. As I grew to be her friend more and more, I tried to tell her she could find better, someone who would let her live her own life, but I think she never believed it. It was all I could do not to blurt out, “it’s me! I’ll make your dreams come true!” But I was involved myself, in a somewhat soft relationship that had stopped fulfilling my need to truly dominate. I was ready for a change, and I hoped Sarah was, too. ...
Author's Note: This is a fantasy I’ve had for a long time and played out in my head, with myself at various times as each character. It’s just something I need to get down on paper (so to speak)! Chapter 1 Girl leant forward over the kitchen sink to scrub a stubborn mark off the dish. With each movement of the sponge there could be heard a clinking sound as the thin steel chain between her handcuffs tapped the glass and crockery in the water. After years of wearing the cuffs (they had no keyholes, and were permanent), she had ceased to even notice when they made sound. ...