F-F

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 takes place in the BDSM-rich universe of www.callmeplisskin.com. It was originally written for him as part of a trade, involving his characters, and is being posted here with his permission. Chapter 1 “Wakey wakey, Claire! Time to rise and shine!” Coming to, Claire blinked in the harsh, bright light. As she sat up, she realized that, once again, she was naked, bound, and gagged. Her captors approached, a pair of maids she immediately recognized. As the penis gag was removed from her mouth, Claire sighed, “Not you two again.” ...

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. ...

Author's Note: This is a work of sexual fantasy. In no way does the author support the ugly reality of human trafficking. Everyone in this story is a work of fiction. This is my first attempt at a short story. Despite being my first language, English is not my forte so pardon my many grammatical errors. This isn’t the sort of story that I can ask those that know me personally to proof read. To be honest, it makes me wince a little to read. Not because of the dark sexual content but just the poor writing. It’s a bit silly but I’m grateful for the instant ability to publish that the internet provides. I would love to hear your comments or criticisms. ...

Susan and I have a great marriage: fun, friendship, and the sex is fantastic. But sometimes, fantasy demands a little bit more. That’s why we’re lucky to have Janie. Janie’s been a good friend of Susan’s since before I met them, and she’s our traveling companion when we go to science fiction conventions. Last weekend, for example, was a really good convention… and a really great time in private. Friday night, after a full day of work and then the hassle of getting to the convention hotel, I spent probably too long hanging out and reconnecting with friends. It was late when I got back to the room, and I tried to be quiet, thinking Susan and Janie might already be asleep. When I got out of the shower, I knew something was up. ...

Author's Note: See the story I wrote about Jasmine becomes a slave for insight in this story Chapter 1 Shelia’s Bar and Fetish shop was the hub of the BDSM community in South Florida. Also many folks came from other parts of Florida, as she had a reputation for the finest B&D fetish wear and equipment in the state. Shelia Bobbs was 35 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, 5'10" and about 140lb. She was very popular and her close friends also knew she had a dungeon up in her loft for their enjoyment. It was a Monday night in April, when Racheal entered the bar with her slave Jasmine. Shelia greeted them and asked how the triplet training was going (see training triplets). It is done now; I just shipped them to the Schwartz’s home three days ago Racheal responded. Racheal was her friend and also helped her develop new items for the BDSM scene and tested them out for her. “So what do I owe the honor of the great “trainer” visiting my humble bar?” she asked Racheal jesting. “Well we are celebrating the six month anniversary of Jasmine becoming my slave and assistant. (see Jasmine becomes a slave), said Racheal, and we also need to schedule your week of slavery for losing the bet we made on whether I could make Jasmine my permanent slave”. “I was hoping you had forgotten about that” Shelia responded. “No way, and I still owe you for the week I had to serve you” laughed Racheal. Shelia pulled out her calendar and told Racheal, anytime after next week, as Wendy (Shelia’s assistant) was on vacation until then visiting her parents. After a short discussion the second week of May was decided on from Sunday 12 noon to Sunday 12 noon. “Remember, the rules we have in the bet contract. No modifications, like you did with Jasmine, and no permanent damage or marks” said Shelia. “Of course I do know the rules and as long as you obey all commands without hesitation that is fine, but remember the clause in the contract that says if you refuse to do something that is not banned, the contract becomes two weeks and no limits” replied Racheal. “I know and no way will I allow that” Shelia said. Shelia was also informed that she was to be hairless from neck down, and only be wearing a dress and sandals when she arrived. That was accepted and for the rest of the night Racheal and Jasmine enjoyed the food and drink, and chatting with friends that dropped by. ...

Alana had always been intrigued about what Melissa called her hobby. Melissa never tried to hide the truth, she was unashamed of who she was. Alana just had more questions than Melissa could answer. “So these women, like to be tied up and tortured?” Alana would ask. “Some of them do. I wouldn’t call it being tortured. It’s actually freeing them from all other responsibilities and surrendering themselves to me for an hour.” ...

Author's Note: Not recommended for the sane-minded person. Mi Lee nervously waited in the airport lounge for the international flight. She felt lucky in a number of ways, with the company sending her to a new country to work and covering main expenses. At the age of 19, it was a very rare opportunity. In her current office, her role was as a junior P.A. for one of the top managers. He seemed nice enough, but was a bit weird sometimes. Mi Lee couldn’t actually say why, but he made her feel uncomfortable. And being a petite (even for Chinese girl) and insecure young lady, she was scared to react. ...

Author's Note: English is not my native language, so if there are some writting mistakes, I apologize. _How can we learn to love the light if we’ve never been in the dark? The story seems pretty dark and sad in the first part, but please, be patient. The main character is deaf, so every sentence written _like this* means that someone is using sign language.* 1: “Magda, please, I need the report about the north Bolivian weather”, said the note on my desk. A message from Maria, my boss. She must had left it there while I was on the bathroom. We both worked in a company dedicated to build big infrastructures like bridges, stadiums, dams, and so on, all around the world. We both were engineers, and we did pretty much the same work, but she had a bigger salary because she arrived here early and she was the boss. That month we had to travel to Bolivia for a new mountain road, and she was affraid it would very likely rain a lot. She was right. My desk was in front of her office’s door, which had a lot of glass and the curtains used to be open, so she always knew when I was siting or not. ...