F-F

…Till You’ve Tried It! It was Sunday and Sandra was bored. Nothing good on tv. No good movies playing lately. Not even any work since her commissions had dried up. She lay on her bed watching the trees outside the window sway in the wind. There was nothing worse than being bored. Except being bored when there was no one around to “play” with. Sandra shared a large house with two other young women, Christina and Tanya. Sandra had brown hair and was the shy, bookish one. Christina was a redhead and was the bubbly cheerful one. And Tanya was black-haired and was the down-to-earth tomboy. But they were more than just friends. They were lovers, all three of them. ...

I learned the hard way not to steal my roommate’s date. It all started when I 1st started college. I was so mad at my father because he didn’t like the fact that I got what he called a tramp stamp tattoo, so we had a huge blow up and he kept calling me a slut. Well my roommate saw me all depressed, so she took me out to the bars. I never had been drinking before so I was a little hesitant to try, but my roommate persuaded me to have a beer, and that turned into two. Then the next thing that I know I was hitting on every guy that I walked by. Then one guy took me back to his apartment , and the next thing I know I wake up naked in his bed, and saw all the condom wrappers on the floor. ...

Author's Note: I’m a twenty-something from Europe, writing short stories and narrations (erotic and non-erotic) for several years. A longer narration of mine deals with certain Japanese elements. To get in the mood for a sequel, I wrote this short story. Box The box had arrived just in time. Nakamura’s two “gentlemen” went to work unloading it as soon as the garage’s roller shutter had closed behind the inconspicuous white delivery van. One of them I knew by name: Tanaka, a ridiculously muscular bloke in an ill-fitting jacket. He was beyond any doubt capable of dragging the box alone. Hence his scrawny new colleague was rather latching onto the wooden crate while it was pulled out of the van. ...

Author's Note: Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about graphic depictions of sex and bondage, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below. Permission is granted for private use. The author wishes any agencies that wish to publish this work, to please contact him at [email protected]. Or visit his weblog at http://fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/ . Any comments are gladly accepted and encouraged. ...

Author's Note: This is my second story. Know its not perfect but hope its OK. I will continue to update the story when each chapter is written. Suggestions and Ideas always welcome. At 28 years old, Abby (short for Abbigail) was happy. At 30 years old, Jason was happy too. Abby, was a loving wife of 5 years, having known Jason for nearly 8 years. They were totally in love from the first moment they saw each other. ...

Author's Note: Mirkada is a remote city with unusual customs and laws; all women in public places within the city’s walls must be restrained; women who are not citizens must also be leashed. Mark and Sally Frost are a couple of Cambridge academics who are fascinated by the city’s culture and history. As a result, they have become regular visitors, enjoying, along with increasing numbers of tourists, the lifestyle implications Mirkada offers. Sally particularly enjoys wearing the traditional Mrikadan costume, the vilisqaz, a garment designed to both restrain and display the female body. ...

Author's Note: This is part 2 of the story I began in “A Model Worker” back in September, and further develops the central characters and themes. It is a darker tale than the first installment, so please check the story codes for what to expect. I plan to write further installments to this story when I can find time. As always constructive criticism always welcomed. Chapter 1: Why Am I Here, And For How Long? ...

Part one (added: 2012/07/12) Before we married, my future wife and I had met each other casually in the corridor on the floor of our office building. She owned a large employment agency which occupied most of the floor on which I worked and the floor above. I worked as a bookkeeper in a much smaller office in a corner of the lower floor. At first we would walk by each other in the corridor leading to the elevators and just nod in a cordial way. I was frankly quite intimidated by her. I found her to be extremely attractive but clearly so far out of my league that I did not dream of ever connecting with her. She was extremely well dressed, had an air of authority and confidence, and was tall and rather athletic looking under her tailored business suit. No woman of that description has ever shown any interest in me. I am shorter than she is, with a slender build. I have always lacked confidence in myself even though I am not bad looking. For that reason I was too shy to speak to her, but she continued to nod pleasantly, smiled, asked my name. One day she surprised me as we passed in the hall by suggesting we meet for a short lunch. I was startled but managed to stammer “Yes.” she replied, “I will meet you at the Acquella Café around the block at 1 p.m. in ten minutes.” ...

Chapter 1 - The Club The ‘Elbow Bondage Club’ (EBC) was an exclusive fetish club located 38 miles outside of San Francisco. The venue was a large mansion which was owned by Julia Langly and Laura Parker, two eccentric millionaires who shared the same sexual fetish: beautiful women in stringent bondage. The EBC was not a regular bondage club, it was ‘females only’. And Julia and Laura made sure that only the most beautiful women were accepted as members. And, as the name suggested, this club was also limited to ’elbow bondage’ fetishists. ...

Author's Note: I hope everyone enjoys this story. As always I love comments and will try to include them in future installments. For Abagail, today was the best day of the year. As a 28 year old teacher the last day of school before summer vacation meant shopping with her friends, the odd vacation, and a summer away from her divorced husband. Standing in the hallway of her school, children waved good bye to the beloved “Ms. T.” who was wearing a purple collared cotton tank top, jeans, and sketchers covered by a black zip up fleece with the school’s name and logo on it. Despite it being a particularly hot day in the Chicago the summer, the school that Abagail taught at was always frigid so in the school she could almost always be seen adorned in her beloved zip up fleece. ...