I can see your hard cock trying to break free of my black lace panties, the thin material between your arse cheeks looks so sexy! On your knees infront of me, i clip chains onto your nipple rings and pull you towards me. “Tonight bitch, you are mine, you are mine to use and abuse as i see fit and there is nothing you can do about it. You will serve me to MY standards. Do you understand?” ...
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 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. ...
This is difficult for me to talk about but my first true self bondage experience is something that I, unfortunately, will never forget. Not a lot happens in Eaton, it’s a small town in southwestern Ohio that you might miss if you blink too fast. I had just graduated high school three months prior and was working at Mary’s Coffee. Mary’s proximity to the town square, courthouse and local newspaper meant that I got to know most of the residents fairly well, from Sheriff Rouscher who used to come to our school and teach criminal justice to Jean Marie who worked with my mother at the courthouse probate office to Agatha and Charlotte Ray, twin sisters, almost in their 80’s now, who would stop by for hot chocolate and wheat muffins almost every night before church. ...
Author's Note: A mild tormenting Story Julie is my fantastic partner, we’ve been together for over six years. She has a lovely chassis and takes pride the way she looks, and I have the pleasure of that. Although we had a full sex life after six years the inevitable started to happen. Not really boredom because we always enjoyed each other, but a sameness started to creep in. Julie worked shift work and sometimes had a nap early in the evening before going to work. ...
When you love someone, you meet them halfway. I’m a switch and she is my lovely submissive who doesn’t have a single naturally dominant bone in her body. We’ve discussed ways that my sub needs can be met, and neither of us are offended or opposed to the idea of opening up to others to meet them, but for right now she’s able to prove the old adage true. She meets me halfway, and it’s absolutely perfect. ...
“Turn out the lights, and come sit,” she said, lying down on my bed, still fully clothed, going through her purse. Probably for a condom, I supposed. Why did girls always like it better with the lights off? I took one more look at her before I did so. She was such an innocent-looking girl. And very beautiful. She looked at me with black doe-like eyes that seemed full of childlike curiosity and wonder, almost like a little girl. It was funny to think such a thing when she was two years older than I was, and I was merely eighteen years old. Her face was smooth and flawless like a perfect sculpture, and also as soft-looking as a rose petal. It was perfectly framed by her dark wavy black hair which stopped just below her delicate shoulders. I remember stroking that hair, how smoothly my fingers could pass through. How she looked back at me when I did it. How much just looking at her supple moist lips made me want to kiss them. ...