Latex

I was startled awake by the wooden crate opening. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the light, I saw the still pissed-off face of my Mistress staring down at me through the cage bars. Last night I was caught (again) attempting to pleasure myself through the openings in the steel chastity device I was locked into. This time she finally had enough of my disobedience and, as punishment, decided I would be spending the night securely locked away in the basement. So, after ordering me to strip, which I did immediately, she fitted me into a latex strait jacket. It had purposely been purchased one size too small so as to make it extremely uncomfortable when buckled. She made sure to pull the two leg straps extra tight and my painful grimace brought a sinister smile to her face. Next came a pair of steel police ankle shackles and an extra large ball gag. The gag was a harness style and she made sure the straps that buckled around my head were also pulled extra tight. Despite the fact that there was no chance of me removing them, she still placed small padlocks through all the locking straps on my straitjacket as well as on the gag, more for effect than to prevent escape. She then padlocked a thick chain to the steel collar already around my neck and, with just a nod, beckoned me to follow. Keeping up with her as we climbed down the two flights of stairs from her bedroom to the basement was difficult, hobbled by the short chain, but angry as she was, I knew better than to do anything but stay closely behind. After all, the last thing I wanted to do was to give her a reason to be any angrier. ...

Author's Note: This is the beginning of a fairly lengthy story I have been working on. The story itself serves as the introduction to the first character of what I hope to develop into a small series of stories. Having now taken a short break after writing 28 chapters, I am reading back and questioning some of my decisions. Because of this I have decided to post the first nine chapters, the ones I am happiest with, and solicit any suggestions or advice for where readers think the story (or series) should go, or improvements to what I have. Please comment or e-mail me your suggestions. Enjoy! ...

Author's Note: A quiet weekend in a country mansion that radically changed a young couples’ life… 1. A Victorian Evening… ‘Turn left’ purred the navigation system’s seductive female voice and he obediently turned into a narrow country lane. The winding lane was hemmed in between grey stone walls and widened only now and then. The walls restricted his view to the next twist in the road so he slowed down and silently prayed there would be no oncoming traffic. When the road abruptly ended, in front of a firmly locked steel gate in a high stone wall, he let out a sigh of relief while the navigation system cooed ‘you have reached your destination!’ ...

The crime: My name is Jessica and I’m writing a story about my crime and my time in prison. It all started back in July of 2025. I recent law had been passed that all sexual crimes are treated differently from other types. Special prisons were built to handle these types of offenders more severely to keep our public safe. I was in a relationship with my partner Katie. We had been together for 5 years when she decided to cheat on me. She met a girl named Charlotte at a bar while I was on a business trip. When I got home a day early to surprise Katie, I found her in our bed with Charlotte. Katie never showed me her kinky side but Charlotte was handcuffed to the 4 corners of the bed while Katie ate out her pussy. ...

Author's Note: Okay, I’m willing to admit right up front that this story is FAR from flawless. I wrote it when I was about 18-19 and my writing skills at the time were questionable at best. But, I still have a soft spot for it since this was the first story I ever wrote from start to finish without losing interest. So I hope that you can all read with open minds. ...

Author's Note: This is a story I wrote on another site and did not get much feedback from. I think it has an interesting premise, it came to me from a dream I had and just had to write out the scenario. It could maybe use a bit of editing for the story structure but I would love to get some feedback to what the readers to the site think. Thank you for taking the time to read it. ...

Meter Level One - Establishing A Base Line! As far as I was concerned she was a pseudo submissive. She played at being a sub’, and probably was to an extent, but only when she was calling the shots. I figured her out within the first couple of play sessions we did and knew she was constantly guiding the scene to her own advantage and topping me from the bottom. ...

Jennifer glanced at her watch and wondered where her friend was. Standing outside the local electronics store, she was impatient to get this over with. Her boyfriend’s birthday was the next day and she still couldn’t decide what to get him. She knew this was an important moment in their relationship. She had recently graduated from high school and moved in with John, her senior by 3 years, and they had already spoken of spending the rest of their lives together. His turning 21 not only marked an important moment in his life, but was also the first time they could officially celebrate an occasion as an adult couple. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find anything appropriate. She had already considered everything from a trip to a new watch, but they didn’t seem to fit the right mood. She had always been bad at this gift thing. She knew he put on a good face when he had opened previous presents. But she could see his disappointment sneaking through as he held up socks or a new CD. And whenever he gave gifts to her, they always seemed to be the perfect thing for the moment, gifts that inevitably brought tears to her eyes. ...

Author's Note: This is the first multi-part story I’ve worked on in some time. Please read, enjoy and leave a comment. Part 1 It was something of a truism that, if you dug deep enough every neighborhood, no matter how small, had its mysteries and a rare few of those were even actually mysteries. Famous crimes, strange disappearances, spooky occurrences and unexplained phenomenon, the kind of things that might even draw in tourists or a television crew if the neighborhood was insistent enough in promoting itself. Of course, most neighborhood mysteries were completely mundane. Little more than housewife gossip, the type passed around church pews and barbecues, or wildly exaggerated stories that became little more than urban legends, if they were interesting enough. Hickory Lane could not even claim that much. Oh, there was certainly plenty of gossip, that seemed to be something of a universal constant, but most of it was of an utterly mundane sort. The Emerson divorce had been the biggest news in a while, but that ended up being too painfully amicable to make for a good story. No, the real enduring mystery of the neighborhood was a house. Not a haunted house, nothing so interesting, just an old house. It was a nice house, most would agree, a small two-story affair at the far end of the block right next to a thicket of hickory trees that had given the development its name once upon a time enclosed by a wooden fence in the back. Now, who had built the house and when was something of a mystery. No one in the neighborhood was entirely certain just how long it had been there, though most agreed that it had to have been among the first homes built here and certainly the oldest still standing, but that was hardly the sort of mystery that got tongues wagging. Nor was the house some rundown and abandoned ruin of an earlier age. The building itself was clean and well kept, the shutters painted, the yard and the gardens in the back were neatly tended and the pool was cleaned regularly. That was no mystery either since the house was occupied and had been for years. No, as was also traditional the true mystery of 137 N. Hickory Lane was its residents. ...

Talk about being handed a gift on a platter or an offer I just couldn’t refuse. It was only three weeks since I had cleared my workshop of the last project. My bank accounts were in a very healthy state and I wasn’t even thinking about a new project until, that is, I saw the hiker. She didn’t blatantly have her thumb out, but was obviously looking for a ride. Standing on the edge of the sidewalk with her, I guessed 5'2", body screaming for attention. I ran the picture through my mental computer. Pale blue flowered halter top, very tight denim short shorts, new looking running shoes and a small white box purse. Over her left shoulder a half empty backpack completed the picture of an elfin like girl in her late teens or early twenties. ...