Author's Note: All names have been changed to protect my identity and those of the people I met. ‘Pocketbook’ is a synonym for handbag or purse. 1. Inspiration and Preparation As I examined the photograph I felt a rush of sexual excitement. I had googled ‘burka’ and there she was; a brown eyed woman staring back at me through the steel bars of a cage concealed beneath the black fabric of her face covering. I knew at that instant I had to emulate her. ...
Chapter 1 Walking down the mall corridor, Lisa Ballard felt a steady gaze upon her, but it wasn’t the kind that she was used to. It didn’t come from your average voyeur. She could sense a dangerous presence nearby. It scared her, but intrigued her at the same time. She could actually feel her body tingling deep inside. The blood raced red hot through her veins as her pulse quickened. There was a tightening in her nipples and she bit softly on her lower lip in response. ...
I tried to move my arm to relieve the stress in my shoulders, but my wrists were firmly secured behind my back to the top of the cage, and there they would be staying for a while. I would love to be able to stretch out my legs, but my knees were pressed tightly up against my naked breasts, and with the bottom of the cage under my folded up legs there was no room for any movement. ...
Chapter 1 I recently took a vacation to a town where a friend of mine lives due to some work related stuff. I haven’t seen my friend for almost two year’s and I looked forward to seeing her. We had always been close to each other and had a special friendship, which allowed us to be there for each other without getting lost in the throws of a relationship. She had moved away and we had always kept in touch with each other, a call every month was always welcomed and we understood that when we got together, it was like we had never been apart. I would always call her first whenever anything important was facing my life. I always appreciated her views and opinions and considered her my mentor in many ways. ...
Part 1 Cammy Jones sat in the Wendy’s at the Airport Square shopping center across the parking lot where she worked (or slaved) as a stock person. She was 24 and thought back on her life and wondered what was next in store for her. When she was fourteen, living in Miami, her mother Sally left to stay with her Aunt Lisa in Philadelphia area due to a nervous breakdown caused by the abuse by her father Hector. Cammy was a Hispanic looking even though her mother was Caucasian. Her father was very strict and believed in corporal punishment. He would punish her by hitting her on her panty clothed rear with his belt. Because of this she never wore a bikini as he would not let her and she didn’t want anyone seeing her bruised butt. She was shy and had few friends as they were also scared of her father, who was a former freedom fighter. ...
Part 1 It was a short while after midnight, and only a few people were still awake, at football training camp. Dylan, being one of them, decided to take a stroll, and explore the grounds. As he left the sleeping area, he did not notice a dark figure sneaking out after him. Craig followed Dylan at a safe distance, with a large heavy bag on his back, in which he kept his ‘supplies’. Dylan walked around for a while, completely oblivious to the fact that he was being followed. He took a shortcut through a small dark forest, to get back to the camp. After a while, he came to a clearing, where he stopped, thinking he had heard footsteps behind him. Before he could turn to look, he was tackled to the ground from behind, and a pair of handcuffs snapped on his wrists, behind his back, and another on his ankles. He managed to roll over, and there was Craig, standing over him, leering unpleasantly. ‘I’ve waited for so long to do that. Now you’re mine’ said Craig, before crouching down and punching Dylan several times through the face, and in the stomach. Suddenly, without warning, Dylan lifted both his feet, and kicked Craig in the groin with all the force he could muster. Craig collapsed on the ground, holding his crotch, and rolled over onto his back. Dylan tried to sit up, but was overcome by the pain from all the punches, and collapsed onto the ground. Once Craig had recovered himself, he got up, limping slightly, and rolled Dylan over onto his stomach. Dylan was conscious, but his eyes were blurred, and he couldn’t muster the strength to move. This suited Craig perfectly, as he pulled several bundles of rope out of his bag, to restrain Dylan properly. To make sure that Dylan couldn’t put up a fight, Craig started by tying his legs. After undoing the handcuffs, he pulled off Dylan’s shoes, socks and jeans, leaving Dylan naked from the waist down, except for his boxers. He then tied ropes securely around Dylan’s knees (above and below), around his thighs, and around his ankles, all of which he cinched tightly, to ensure that Dylan could not slip out of them. He then used a thin piece of rope to tie Dylan’s big toes together, to so that Dylan could not move his feet apart. Finally satisfied that Dylan’s legs were secure, he moved on to restraining his upper body. After removing the handcuffs, he pulled Dylan’s t-shirt off, and removed the silver chain around Dylan’s neck, leaving his chest and back completely bare. He then tied one end of a long piece of rope around Dylan’s left wrist, and did the same with another piece of rope around his right wrist. ...
Author's Note: English not primary language hopefully English is improving enough to make enjoyable fantasy. Part 1 I had left my house two days prior and had planned to be gone for several more days in fact two weeks. I had done everything I thought necessary to secure the house and insure that all of my travel connections were correct. I had notified the security company that monitors the house for fire and breakings. The only thing I hadn’t counted on was the country I was planning to go to had some kind of political upheaval and I didn’t get on the last plane and came back home. ...
Author's Note: A story that shows that thought is essential and can have a positive effect a dedication to the art & a fantasy fulfilled. no matter how innocent they might look know one can tell what is going on in the dark recesses of another mind. Carrie-Anne had just finished the last of her degree’s final exams. She was twenty and eleven years old, petite verging on boyish, with small breasts and a desire burning to loose her virginity in all respects. ...
“Is this your first time here?” the man behind the counter asked, examining the card. “Nicole?” “Yes, it is,” she said. “But two friends of mine are already members. Alex and Flora told me a little about it.” The man typed some numbers off of her card and entered them into the computer. “Your fully entered into our system, membership dues paid in full, and everything you need is in,” he said, handing her the card back. “Go on inside. Because this is your first time, you can pick up free chips at the courtesy counter. They can answer any other questions that you might have.” ...
My story started on a Tuesday night. My roommate Mike was off to work. He worked overnights. Mike’s girlfriend, Melanie also lived with us. She was planning on going out with some friends to a local bar. It was perfect for me because I would have the whole apartment to myself. I had took the week off so I could get some of my own kind of relaxation. After they had left I started on my fun for the night. Since I do triathalons I have a smooth hairless body and am pretty slim. I started out by getting dressed. First I start out by putting on my black silk panties and matching bra. Next come the black silk stockings complete with garter belt. Then I slither into my own little black dress and finish it off with the black heels with ankle strap. I do my face up with makeup and complete the ensemble with a black wig. To top it off I put on my black elbow length opera gloves. With my slender athletic build I could pass if I ever wanted to go out. I never do though. I am completely heterosexual. ...