Bondage

1. First time (NOTE: This is pretty much a true story based on my first time with a Pro-Domme.) It was Jarrod’s first time with a dominatrix. Tall mean woman of various races hurting and humiliating him was the basis of his masturbatory fantasies since he was just a kid. He didn’t know the source of this desire; it was just part of him. At 24 he finally had worked up the courage to visit a Femdom studio. He had planned it for a week. He lived in the suburbs surrounding a large Midwest city that offered him several choices. It took him a while to select one. Each had a website, each featured photos of beautiful dominant woman, scary but cool looking dungeons and list of available services. He had nervously called each establishment and inquired about the price. And after much internal conflict he made his decision. He called the day before and made an appointment for noon. He took the day off from work. He had checked out the building on Google map. It was in a light industrial neighborhood. There was a parking lot a block away. He arrived an hour early and parked there. He was sure the attendant, and everyone he passed, knew he was on his way to perform perverted sex. At exactly noon he rang the bell for the 7th floor apartment. A female voice said: ...

Author's Note: This is sort of a parallel story to my most recent tale. With a bit of a tie in at the end. Perhaps a bit of a slow start but it picks up pace quickly. Hope I was able to entertain you both times! Freddy still didn’t understand how it all went so terribly wrong. The fantastically rich haul was only intended to be deposited in the little cartel owned small town bank for a few hours. But a change at the last moment nescessitated added security be sent in for the week long extended stay. Thinking only of his 3 million, possibly augmented by some opportunistic chicanery Freddy gave the go order for the bank takedown. His AR15 was down and his hands were up 3 seconds later. His amateur hour crew quickly followed suit. ...

Author's Note: Perhaps we’d have learnt more if our classes had been more like this? It was the last session of a Friday afternoon and my friends and I were in seated in our class waiting for our teacher. It was time for our annual class of “Sexual and Relationship Health”, the latest name of a government initiative which instructed schools to provide each student at least an hour of Sex Ed a year. The teachers thought the parents should do it, the parents thought the schools should do it. We didn’t care either way. We were now the oldest students in school, most of us had already lost our virginity anyway and those that hadn’t had certainly spent enough time on the internet that labelling diagrams would be a completely pointless exercise. Being a private school often had it’s advantages, our teachers were often a lot more capable than their equivalents and the school was given a lot more independence when planning curriculum. This was unfortunately a necessary class. ...

Author's Note: first time writing a sex story, please be kind, could be future installments, if people like it, looking for collaboration on a second idea with female editor My name is Sam and this is a fantasy sex story about a female genie. I found this old lamp at a garage sale this morning and took it home. It looked like an antique and thought I could spruce it up some and then sell it for a tidy profit. Once at home, I carefully washed it and then dried it, not leaving any fingerprints on the lamp in case it happens to be valuable. Then I picked it up and noticed there was a smudge I missed and rubbed my thumb across the mark. In an instant, smoke billowed out of the lamp. After the smoke cleared, a woman stood before me. ...

Chapter 1 - V for Vanessa While bound to the bed, enduring another interminable wait for the woman to return for more oral pleasures, I reflected back on the improbable sequence of events that led to this latest predicament. For as long as I could remember, I had desires to be tied up and dominated in bed by women. These desires continued through a couple of decades of a dull marriage and became stronger than ever once released from my matrimonial bonds. Frequent business travel provided an opportunity to live out some of those fantasies. A trip one fateful summer evening set in motion a sequence of events that forever changed my life. ...

I’m strapped down on an oddly shaped table. My feet hang over the end of the table so that I’m kneeling. Then I’m bent at the waist, so that my back is parallel with the floor. The center of my chest, between my nipples, is resting on a padded bar that is fixed to the table, and I’m strapped, above my crotch and again below my nipples, to this bar. My cock and balls hang freely–for the moment–behind that end of the bar. My nipples straddle the bar, and my head and neck extend beyond the front end of this padded bar. ...

Author's Note: This following is an Olympic parody that tries to re-imagine how things might play out if various fetishes and sexual acts were converted into Olympic-style sports. I have written this in the form of a newsbroadcast with a bit of overarching plotlines but the various events themselves vary greatly in their sexual content so take advantage of the section index below to pick out (or avoid) whatever takes your fancy. I hope people enjoy this, it was fun to write and try to come up with things that would be sexy, vaguely plausible, and in some cases be direct parodies of existing Olympic events themselves. ...

Part 1 Kate and Emma arrived for the final day of the exhibition. The stand was set up as it had been for the last few days, with its big glossy pictures and its collection of shinny silver restraints and cages. As per the previous days, Emma took off her jeans and t-shirt so that she was wearing only her bright red bikini and high heels. She was tall, slim and tanned and had long blonde hair that fell down over her shoulders. Kate managed the business side of the stall. She had dark hair and was more soberly dressed in smart jeans and a top. ...

Author's Note: : This story takes place in the BDSM-rich universe of www.callmeplisskin.com. It was originally written for him as part of a trade, involving his characters, and is being posted here with his permission. Chapter 1 “Wakey wakey, Claire! Time to rise and shine!” Coming to, Claire blinked in the harsh, bright light. As she sat up, she realized that, once again, she was naked, bound, and gagged. Her captors approached, a pair of maids she immediately recognized. As the penis gag was removed from her mouth, Claire sighed, “Not you two again.” ...

Author's Note: This story was originally written by Clinton Crayle (“C. C.”) in the late 1970’s, and it was published in Bondage Life magazine. I edited and updated the original, and I am posting it with the permission of the original author. I’d heard about a new night spot in the heart of the Olde Towne district: “Shackles” - ultra-chic, ultra-kinky and ultra-in. My job as the highest-ranking female executive at HQ didn’t give me much time for leisure though, and none of my dates ever had the courage to take me there. So, I never went into the place… until the night my car broke down right outside. ...