Consensual

Author's Note: Another addition in the evolution of a relationship over the last 10 years, the basis for my writing and motivation. As things in life sometime go, there is often an opportunity to reflect back and see the errors of ones decision making processes. This is none other than one of those fateful realizations with the horrendous but yet equally frustrating and yet fulfilling outcomes. I have so many times been lured into, at my own willingness and given direction from Janice to push my own limits and understanding of things. Here is another example of watching out for what is not always obvious to the naked eye. ...

Author's Note: Part 1 of a few. Part 1 You knew from the moment the letter arrived that you were going to attend. You got in the taxi because… why? Can you put your finger on the reason? Need? Want? Lust? Adventure? Boredom? Who cares! The letter dropped onto the mat at five past ten last Tuesday, and the inevitable consequence was that you would be stepping out of a taxi today, outside a well kept georgian house on a bright leafy street, fighting with your emotions. Ring the bell? Walk away? It’s not too late, you can still leave. But you know you won’t; can’t. Partly because this is something you need to do, something in you is driving you to be here, and you know if you leave now you’ll regret it forever. But also because, as the letter instructed, you have left your house without keys, wallet, or coat. You would have to walk home and break into your own house. ...

*CLICK* I slowly opened my eyes, blinking the sleep out of them. The sound that had woken me was Pauline’s bedroom door closing. I smiled to myself, since I knew exactly what it meant: Matt, Pauline’s boyfriend, had left for work. I rubbed my eyes and rolled over onto my tummy (although the fact that my breasts were now underneath me, being pressed by my weight against the bed, was far more noticeable). It was then that I realised how horny I was this morning. I decided to go and disturb Pauline… ...

Category: N/A Codes: f-f, m-f, non-consensual, reluctant , () Clara hated this city. It was small, it always rained and the food was just awful. But the thing that she really hated were the incompetent morons who ran this city’s branch of Calicent. Calicent, one the the worlds leading business to business sales company’s. Numbers were seriously down and Clara was dispatched to sort things out. Clara was a very attractive blonde. A tight fitting pencil skirt. Her toned legs were enhanced by her high heeled shoes. A tight fitting blouse covered her torso. A bright, red jacket finished her outfit ...

Author's Note: I am thrilled to have a new Mistress, who for me is a penthouse-story-class “no way that would ever happen” level of wonderful good chance. The story itself is fictional so as not to boringly recount an event, nor predictive, as we play by ear. That being said, it is an otherwise honest introduction to the characters and the fun we’re getting up to. It is just Chapter 1, the introduction. Suggestions for the flow of the story are welcome! If it fits, I’ll add it…and may well suffer the consequences in the near future. ...

Author's Note: This is the seconf story about Madeleine and Master John. It has been a while in the writing but it’s herte now, I hope you like it. Introduction David and Mellany had been together for four years and married for nearly two, but recently things had been going wrong. They had a long standing love of bondage, unfortunately they were both naturally submisive in nature. Before their marriage they had only experimented a few times with bondage games, but after they married the games became a regular part of their sex life. Initially they took turns at being tied, but as time past Mellany took less and less interest in tying her husband, things had recently reached the point were she had outright refused to play the Domme part of the relationship. This left David feeling letdown and he retaliated by in turn refusing to play the Master to Mellany’s sub. As a result their marriage was starting to fall apart. ...

Author's Note: Mistress has suggested that I be her ‘anal gimp’ on stage in front of an audience. I will be restrained to a wooden horse in my dog mask while she teases by arse with a squirting strap-on horse cock, before finally fucking me. This got me thinking about one of my oldest fantasies that I have yet to live out, so maybe this will be the chance to do it. Following is my fantasy, not reality yet but we will see soon!! I have sent a version of this to Mistress for her comments and suggestions. ...

You stand at the door. It is heavy, oaken, crossed with iron straps. Pierced solely by a tiny grille at eye level, displaying the merest hint of a glow from within. Buried in the cold stone basement of the old manor, its appearance alone fills you with trepidation, to say nothing of the step you intend to take when the door opens. The air is clammy, moist. You shiver in your thin shirt and bare feet. You gather your resolve and raise a hand to strike the iron knocker in the center of the door. Just as your hand is about to grip the metal ring, you hear - ...

To the naked eye Helen was pretty ordinary. She was a cute, petite half Japanese girl. She had always done well in school, even though she came from a broken home, and had worked very hard to put herself through university. She kept fit by playing basketball in the summer (“I may be tiny, but I’ll kill you from the 3 point line” she was often heard to say at the Y where she played) and cross country skiing in the winter. There wasn’t much that made her stand out in a crowd, sure the boys would hit on her, but she figured that most boys would hit on anything with breasts… even her with her smaller than average “rack”. She kept her hair short and generally stayed out of the bar scene. She was a quiet, hard working, smart girl in the city. ...

Author's Note: This story starts slowly. It’s for those of us who have time to savor bondage ideas and predicaments. The discriptions in the story are fictional, please don’t try them. Chapter 1 - Molly’s Plan Molly was a twenty six year old professional living in the Lincoln, Nebraska when we met last September. She graduated from Michigan State University with a degree in mechanical engineering a several years before and was now working for tool and die firm catering toward manufactures in the food service industry. I (Jack) work for the same firm as a machinist, fabricating parts from engineered designs, some of which she has supplied over time. She’s tall and slender for the average girl, standing five foot ten inches with slightly curly long red hair, sky blue eyes with a pretty face. I suspected her real beauty was hidden beneath the loose fitting clothing she always wore. The culmination of her drab outfits and the black horned rim glasses she wore always put guys off that might have otherwise sought her out. ...