Author's Note: The complete dehumanization of an unknown ‘woman’. I was in a bad mood, so I decided to go downstairs into the basement and watch Thingy. I had grown more and more bored of Thingy with time, Thingy turned out to be not much fun at all! I resented having to tend to it all the time, and it cost me a lot of money. I had neglected it more and more often, staying in my living room watching porn instead when I wasn’t at work. ...
Blah, blah, blah, background, get to the story, right? This is a true account of one of those rare times that things went wrong for me. I’m a planner…I plan…that’s what I do. I seek out what could go wrong before I commit to it and I nip it in the bud. This is proof, though, that when you’re helpless, anything minor, no matter how minor, can be what does you in. As far as planning goes, “good enough” is never good enough. ...
Chapter 1: The French Bondage Maid I hurried home to get supper ready for Jim. I had stayed late at work adding the finishing touches to my presentation. Jim did not like to be kept waiting, so I became quite stressed as I stood in the long line at the Japanese takeout. When I finally reached home I was relieved to find that Jim had not yet arrived, so I quickly set the table, laid out the sushi, and put the rest in the oven to keep warm. Then I changed out of my work clothes into some that I thought would please Jim. He never said what he liked me to wear, but by experimenting I had found that he wanted me to look like a whore. Since I was feeling sexy, I very much wanted to please him that night so I put on my French maid outfit, which had proven successful in the past. This consisted of a padded cleavage bra with a low scoop top, a short black skirt over crotchless panties, and high-heeled shoes. I applied bright red lipstick and mascara, and brushed my hair. I examined myself critically in the mirror and decided that this was the best I could do in the short time I had allowed myself. ...
“I think I’m ready to tell you one of my secrets,” she said, a blush creeping up her cheeks. This was it! We had been dating for over a month now and she was finally going to open up to me. I mean, I’m not one of those ‘touchy-feely’ guys who needs to have a good cry every few days to stay connected with his feelings. But up until now, Vanessa had been a virtual Ice Princess. She was great in bed – hot, aggressive, almost like a tigress. And she was a knock-out. I’d never dated anyone who could turn heads just by walking into the bar. And she dressed to kill – stilettos seemed to be her shoe of choice (which suited me fine – I was naturally taller than her but when she was wearing those 4 inchers, she was actually a tad taller than me). Tight leather skirts, silk blouses – she was the complete package. ...
The scene had begun, but nothing was happening. The camera hovered over me, its lens glinting as the zoom was adjusted. So I made a show of struggling, of pulling against the restraints, of pouting in despair. As if I needed to struggle to know I was stuck. Thick iron shackles encircled my wrists; these were chained around a metal bar, which was bolted into the floorboards at both ends. My ankles were likewise shackled, their chain wrapped around the very same metal bar. I stood doubled-over another metal bar, which was bolted to two vertical bars, which in turn were also drilled into the floor. The horizontal bar against my navel held my legs straight, ass naked and exposed, pussy dripping with arousal. ...
Author's Note: This is the result of my first attempt at writing something like this, and was mostly written on a tablet, so there might be the odd mistake here and there, for which I am sorry. It is not based on a true story, but on a true fantasy. I hope you enjoy it. I had been waiting for this for a long time. “Are you sure about this?” ...
Chapter 1 Trevor Foster was, in many ways, kind of a stereotype. He was a tall, heavyset black man with the kind of muscles that he earned through hours in the gym each week. He was loud, quick to laugh, and not afraid to get into a fight when the mood struck him. He was a linebacker for his college’s football team, and he had a scholarship riding on what would hopefully be his career. ...
Author's Note: Laura and Logan, associates of newlyweds Seth and Rose, decide to interrupt the couple’s honeymoon with a surprise visit. What would have otherwise been an uneventful weekend in the woods becomes something much more painful and intense. Laura and Logan stood together in the kitchen, each with a glass of wine in hand. They have a newspaper spread open on the countertop in front of them. It was flipped over to the announcement section on the back page. There were the usual number of deaths, but there weren’t nearly as many weddings, and it made the section announcing Seth and Rose’s marriage all the more noticeable. ...
Author's Note: In this sequel to Into Darkness, Tiffany finds herself in a slave training facility in the company of former friends and new enemies. Chapter 1: A Shocking Confession Tiffany grunted as the box she was crammed into fell hard to the floor. She couldn’t tell how long she had been trapped within the cramped space, certainly half a day at least. The crushingly tight corset around her waist restricted her breathing. And the enormous dildo rammed in her pussy didn’t help either. Within the tiny box she could hardly move at all, which was unfortunate since a few hours earlier she found that she could no longer hold her bladder. She had been laying in a pool of piss ever since. ...
Chapter 1 Its true, I’ve always had an interest in the world of domination. The thought that it could be possible to re-train someone to live entirely dependant on your instruction, without any capacity to use independent thought is one that I find fascinating. To own another human being’s existence is surely an idea that has inspired some of the world’s greatest dictators, as human life is more valuable than any other known commodity. Of course, along with anything else I’ve ever done in my life, it had to be done to the greatest extreme possible, or it just wasn’t worth doing. All this said, I didn’t ever make a conscious decision become a Master, it’s just something that that curiosity and lust finally led me to. My ex-wife will vouch for my enthusiasm in this quarter. Whilst we were still together I converted our loft into a crude dungeon, and inspired by sites on the internet (an incredible inspiration), I built hoists, whips from old belts and sawn off broom handles, cages from shopping trolleys and various other devices of captivity for us to experiment with. In those early days, it was I who was the submissive, and my other half would enthusiastically strap me spread-eagled to the rafters, caning my bare behind thoroughly before descending through the loft hatch to watch television in the comfort of the lounge. The juxtaposition of me in such deprivation and her in such comfort gave us both an immense thrill, and although at first she would pop her head through the loft hatch with worried frequency, after a while she would leave me chained in the loft for hours at a time, relishing in my discomfort. On some occasions she would go out, leaving me wondering how long I was to be left in my uncomfortable bondage, shivering slightly from the cold. Sometimes she would tease me by saying that she was going to fetch her friends to see me in my humiliating position, and on more than one occasion threatened to bring a man back to the house and force me to listen to their wild love making in the room below. These comments excited me immensely, although at this stage I’m not sure how the reality of this would have affected our relationship outside of the loft. These were all just idle threats however, and all-important parts of the fantasy. ...