Electricity

Author's Note: A highwayman robs a lady’s coach on the turnpike at Southwark in 1697 and takes a rich prize; a Nazi interrogator extracts information from a captured British spy; Emily Cavandish recalls other encounters too, recounting them to a student psychiatrist in the sanatorium in which she is held. Is it possible that we can be reborn or is this just her delusions ? If we are reborn then can some lives be linked through time, intertwined across the centuries ? If memories live on, can love be eternal and hate continue so that revenge be served in future lives ? ...

Author's Note: An updated and extended version of a story from 2017… Part 1 Will Jackson sat in the black Lincoln Town car pulling up to the posh brownstone on the Upper East Side and thought back to how he’d arrived at this moment. “Sandra, I’m really tired of dead-end relationships,’ he’d said to his former girlfriend over drinks a few weeks earlier. “I know we couldn’t make it work, but every time I open up to a woman it seems she can’t get away fast enough. I make good money, I’m not quite 40 and I’m really fit. I want to be with someone who’s smart and creative and emotionally present and at least as kinky as I am. Isn’t there anyone out there for me?” ...

Author's Note: I was going to finish this story before submitting it, but I won’t have much chance to write in the next couple weeks and if I lose momentum after that it may be a long time coming. Feel free to email me with any feedback, or leave a comment. This story and the characters and places therein are 100% fictional. Please don’t take this as an endorsement in any way of the actions of any character. This material is intended only for getting off and should be kept completely divorced from reality. ...

Author's Note: ((This note is for the publisher and should not be published with the story: Thank you for publishing the first chapters of this story. I have made some edits, as well as writing to the ending, so I am submitting the entire story here. Also, the text breaks which were marked with five dashes were left out when it was published, which makes the changes between scenes confusing. They are now signified by the words TEXT BREAK, which you can find-and-replace into whatever formatting is appropriate for the site. Thanks again!)) ...

Author's Note: The Renaissance Faire never really closes… Prologue The Renaissance Faire has always been a refuge for freaks and weirdos. A safe place for the socially awkward and misunderstood. For the last 3 years, however, Notts’ Renaissance Faire in Georgia has expanded its demographic to a new clientele. One with incredibly deep wallets and the need for total and complete anonymity. But before we get into that, let me start with a bit of history. My name is Ali Rook. Ali’s short for Alison. Just your average, pretty, slender, freckled, 26 year-old redhead who happens to run a Renaissance Faire. Of course, “average”, by Ren. Faire standards, is antonymous with the conventional definition of the word “average”. Most average 26 year-old girls don’t inherit multi-million dollar corporations from their extended family members. ...

Author's Note: I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please feel free to comment below. My slave, Ai was kneeling in front of me, facing the corner, naked of course, ankles crossed, and hands behind her neck, wearing a collar, and leather wrist and ankle restraints, which was her standard slave “uniform”. It was the one year anniversary of our first bondage session. And tonight I had special plans for her - very special plans indeed. ...

Author's Note: Been reading stories on this site for years and thought I would try to write my own. I’ve never been much of a writer, but what the hell, right? It’s all in good fun. Chapter 1 “This place looks as good as any,” Caleb thought to himself as he pulled into the truck stop around 2 a.m. He had been on the road now for nearly three days, having been assigned to take the goods he was hauling from San Diego, California all the way to Boston, Massachusetts. Caleb had dropped out of college six years ago after failing most of his classes sophomore year, and had taken on the truck driving career, thinking it would be a good way to see the country. ...

Author’s Note: Dedicated to those who like secure straitjackets and powerful women. Derivative works and sequels are welcomed, but please acknowledge this work. Chapter One As soon as I dive through the door, I realize something is wrong. Certainly, many things are right and familiar. There is the exhilarating feeling of weightlessness, the whipping of the jumpsuit, and the roar of the wind. And then, there is the afternoon sun glistening off the distant desert lake. But this beautiful sight is part of the problem. ...

Author's Note: This is a fairly intense femdom story, with a blend of sensuality and extreme cruelty. So far it consists of 4 chapters. I’m debating how to finish it off in perhaps 1 or 2 more chapters. If you’ve feedback feel free to email it to me or find me via my blog at http://www.femdom-resource.com/ Chapter 1 - Prolog My wife says I’m the luckiest man alive. If I’m ever feeling down or unhappy she’ll remind me that our relationship is one in a million and that it was so lucky that we found one another. She’ll say “How many other husbands get the attention I give to you? How many other husbands are loved as much as you?” ...

They were waiting for him when he arrived home. It was after midnight and the street was empty, so there was little chance that they would be seen. The white Ford van parked in front of the house would most likely go unnoticed because of the auto mechanic across the street. There were different cars parked on the block every day and chances were good that it had roused no suspicion at all. He had barely got out of his car when the back doors of the van flew open. Three women, all clad in the same black, skin-tight cat suits, came running towards him. Startled, he dropped his bag and tried to grab the maglite he kept next to the drivers’ seat, in an effort to defend himself. By this time they were already on him and one had placed a cloth drenched in chloroform ether over his face, which he quickly succumbed to. ...