This story was submitted for the 2010 Winter Fetish Contest. Please be sure to rate read and rate each story. When you’re finished, visit our sponsor by clicking the banner above. (They have lots of cool stuff!). Lana took a deep breath and wondered what had possessed her to get into this situation. She was standing in line with many other girls, waiting to get into a shabby looking warehouse in the industrial district. ...
Author's Note: Just a short story I wrote while bored a while back. I wanted to experiment a bit, trying to make the writing enhance the story. I love to hear from fans with ideas or feedback, please email me or leave a comment. Slave was excited. She had been dutifully serving mistress for nearly three years now, preparing food, cleaning and serving her as well as pleasing her sexually when Mistress desired it. It was only six months ago that Mistress had noticed slave’s concentration was beginning to lapse, especially when she had commanded slave to pleasure her. As slave’s lips and tongue worked on her, Mistress noticed slave’s hands were busy under her own skirt, an unnecessary distraction. Slave couldn’t argue when mistress wrapped the chastity belt around her waist, preventing her from releasing her built up frustrations and keeping her focused on the tasks mistress had assigned. In response to her cooperation, and to give her even more reason to behave, Mistress offered slave a deal. Every ninety days, she would evaluate slave’s performance and offer slave the chance to cum if she felt slave deserved it. ...
I knew what she was trying to shout, scream, plead and yell at me; it was her safe word - Mercy! But I had had enough of her nonsense and had her so well gagged nothing came out except muffled unintelligible sounds. Then she started humming her other condition red signal. I grinned at her and said I hear you, now shut up! I was disgusted with her. I would spend a lot of my time planning a bondage scene very carefully and then get in character for it in black leather skirt, matching tightly belted jacket and my Mistress boots with heels THAT high and then before I was half way finished I got the signal to stop. Now what is the use of having code red signals if you don’t immediately react to them? I always had. ...
Tasha walked at a steady pace her stiletto heels clip clopping in perfect rhythm. She hardly glanced at the familiar surroundings, pairs of houses, each slightly different, staring silently back at her. Who knows what secrets lay behind those rose curtains or the bright red door? The lawn that had become overgrown, the house with ever changing brightly coloured hanging baskets, the unmoving caravan, the iron gates that did not quite meet properly. The wall with missing coppice stone. Mr Franklin must have a new car. The twitch of curtains at no 54, that woman really should get a life! Just another street in another town or city? ...
Author's Note: This is not so much a story as an account of one of my bondage fantasies. The woman smiles to herself as she prepares her female slave for an evening of erotic bondage. She is a dominatrix and uses her slave not only for her personal pleasure but also as an instrument of sexual stimulation when satisfying her clients. She prefers to think of these as her ‘victims’, men who are prepared to reward her for bringing them to orgasm in the most frustrating scenarios she can imagine. ...
Author’s Notes: Although the next few chapters are drafted, this story is unfinished. If you like it so far, please email me with how you would like to see it develop. Chapter 1: A Midnight Bondage Walk Prior to my recent walk through a town in bondage, my thumbcuff walk (see “My Daring Self-Bondage Public Walk”), I looked online for ideas for public bondage. I found several stories where people had walked nude and in bondage, usually in remote wooded areas or at night. Nude walking did not appeal to me at that time; I was not, and am not, an exhibitionist. ...
“Oh come on Rebecca, it will be fun!” stated Katie to her good friend as they stood outside an adult fetish shop. Rebecca just gave her friend a questioning look. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you won’t find it fun looking and laughing at all the kinky things in there!” Katie said as she grabbed her friend’s hand and dragged her through the door. As they entered the store the strong aroma of leather in the air assailed their noses and they quickly noticed the different clothes, shoes, and toys that were available. ...
Part 1: The Girls and the Plan Sara was a “sexy, but cute” blue eyed blonde. Beth was tall, buxom, had brown hair and was aggressive. Gina was a hot but somewhat bossy red head. Lifelong friends, the three young women shared a love of bondage and BDSM. For years they tied and “enslaved” each other, then bought in others, both female and male, to play with them. But the one thing they wanted to do was kidnap someone, hold them captive, and make them into their sex slave, whether she or he liked it or not. Beth often talked of literally whipping them into shape with a dreamy look in her eyes. But for all their talk, they were never able to carry out this plan. There was so much planning and work in capturing someone and holding them prisoner that something always happened to foil the would-be kidnappers. Then Delia came to their school. ...
Author's Note: I’ve always thought waitresses are very on display while waiting tables, naturally my kinky mind started ticking and here’s the result… strong>Update (2013/01/12): The third (and most likely final part) of my Out for Dinner series. Hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it! Part 1 Alice had decided she wanted to take me out for dinner but she had refused to tell me anything about where we were going. A little after seven I arrived by taxi which she promptly directed into the centre of town, I examined my girlfriend as we drove. ...
Author's Note: The following is Part 1 of a sequel to The Dice Game. Enjoy! Part 1: Revealed The Dice Game took on a life of its own. For its three inventors, like most people, college was a time of self-definition and preparation for the rest of their lives. But it was also a time apart-a time when the excessive could seem reasonable and when identity was a work in progress. By the start of their senior year, these women hardly resembled the fledgling girls they had been just a year or two before. They had blossomed, and so had the Dice Game. ...