Bondage

Author's Note: Hey everyone! It’s time for a write up of another of my self bondage stories! :D If this is the first story you’re reading, I’ll give you a brief bit of a description about myself. My name is Naomi, I’m a 23 year old woman from Australia! I’m a pasty gal with dark brown hair that comes down to just past my breasts, which are a size 36D. My hips are size 40 so I’m kinda curvy. I’m also taller than the average gal, coming in at just over 6 feet, so when I wear killer heels, my legs go all the way up :p ...

Have you ever tried to walk with a dildo inside you? It’s weird, let me tell you. I had a dildo, a big one, up my pussy and a big butt-plug in my ass. There was no fear of them falling out because I was also wearing skin-tight jeans. The jeans squeezed into my pussy very tightly, and I ached there because my skin was feeling sore and raw. I wore a black turtleneck sweater that was just as skin tight as the jeans. The high collar helped to hide the thin leather collar around my throat, and the two narrow chains which descended to my nipples and were attached to my nipple rings. ...

I settled back in bed as much as my bondage would allow. Now THAT was an orgasm Or those were orgasms. They? Whatever, My clit was worn to a nub and my mind was mush. Good times. The problem was, by the time I put away all my toys, I’d be horny enough to want to unpack them again. More good times. My sigh was muffled by the gag as I prepared to start unlocking stuff. I slipped the key to my cuffs from the pouch I had sewn at the bottom of my corset. ...

Author's Note: I knocked this story up one evening by bringing together elements of a couple of unfinished stories after going through a long period of ‘writer’s block’. Maybe I am over that now, perhaps not! “Noisy” I muttered to myself giving the duvet cover one final twitch to centre the crest of my favourite soccer team slap bang in the middle of the bed. Little fusspot would be sure to notice if it was even half a centimetre out! I paused just as I was smoothing everything down again as a loud scream sounded from the adjacent building. A second, third and fourth followed and then after a pause a couple more finishing with an extended long and particularly shrill one that made even me wince. ...

Prolog A genuine slave ship - a wooden sailor, at that - was something that a person wouldn’t expect to see in the first half of the twenty-first century. But here was one, sails set and cruising along on the empty sea toward some unknown destination. A week ago I would never have believed the story under any circumstances. Even now, the reality hadn’t really sunk in. There were some considerable differences between our vessel and those that plied the trade two hundred years ago, hauling half dead unfortunates across the Atlantic toward a life of bondage. For one thing, this one was spotless and the air below decks was fresh and cool. The food was good and no bodies were thrown overboard in the mornings. ...

Author's Note: I started in on my hobby of writing by doing sequels to stories by other writers. That is the way my imagination often runs. Now it has happened again. This one is the first of a set of sequels to Girls Friday, by Morlock. I have asked him for permission, which he granted. He has seen advance copies before the sequels are posted. This is a sequel, so it begins with the action already well underway. In order to better understand what is happening, you need to read Morlock’s original story first. ...

“Girls Gone Kinky” the radio announcer said. “Tomorrow night at the Johnson warehouse, ‘Girls gone Kinky’ will be shooting their Halloween edition. Free admission to girls in costumes. Door open at 6:00 Happy hour all night long. Cash awards to the lucky girls chosen to be in the video.” Sue turned off the car radio and thought about attending the out of season event. It was after all spring break weekend and she had not done anything wild all week or even semester. She felt it was time she cut loose. Halloween in March sounded like the perfect event and a shot at some money wouldn’t be all bad either. ...

Author's Note: This is the first of several story ideas I’ve had that reflect my personal tastes. I welcome feedback so any following stories can be more enjoyable to the readers. As this is fantasy, I have taken liberties with psychology, moral attitudes and the physical limitations of my characters. I warn readers that I am a sadist at heart, but prefer my victims enjoy the pain, discomfort and sex so most of my writing is consensual, but non-consensual acts may occur. ...

It was only my third night in this sleepy little town and I had already run bored with little new to do. I had only been to our Kansas office twice in the last five years for cursory check-ins but now this branch was falling apart and they sent me in for an extended stay to clean up the mess. The only place to stay within in a reasonable distance to the office was a second rate motel just outside of town. I had stayed here on my previous trips and it was certainly nothing extraordinary to write home about. Just a place to lay my head down each night with the sound of traffic buzzing on a busy street. ...

Author's Note: You can see a version of the story with illustrations at DeviantArt.com. Just search for Trystl, and it should come up. This is a story in the Hunting Season Universe, although (as promised) it’s not set on Renaldo’s Island, and the tone/mood is far different from Fanni’s story. 1 - Display Case The display case. I hate it. I hate the long hours of forced standing. I hate the cute little outfit they force me into. I hate the people who come to gawk at me. Most of all, I hate those who think they have a right to put me in here, trapped behind a cage of glass, like some animal in a zoo. Only zoo animals are, at least, allowed to pace back and forth. I’m forced to stand in agony, unable to move. ...