Author's Note:Like many other readers, I very much liked the story “Belt of the future”. I often wondered what I’d do with such a belt. One day my mind was playing with a storyline with hidden public bondage when my eye fell on “Belt” again. 1 and 1 made click and this sequel was born. I hope it will be considered a worthy sequel.* This sequel has not been endorsed by the original author and considered fan-fiction ...
The alarm sounded for the third time and I finally decided to get up - it’s nice to have a day off work, but that’s no excuse to waste it in bed. The curtains had opened themselves when the alarm had sounded the first time, and sunlight was already streaming into our bedroom of the future. In fact, our whole house was ‘of the future’ - my boyfriend Gary worked for a large multinational company that specialised in such things, and we got to try out some of the prototypes. ...
Beth stared drunkenly at the claustrophobic cell she was imprisoned within, and for the thousandth time since awakening she wondered how she had arrived at this point in her life. The cell was only about 6 feet by 6 feet in length and width, and about twice that in height. A dingy yellow light bulb glowed constantly from behind a metal wire guard in the center of the ceiling, casting everything into a dim yellowish light with deep shadows. ...
Part 1 Darlene and Pauline had been best friends since they were kids. They were playing one day, Darlene made a joke about how their names rhymed, and they immediately hit it off. They were very different. Darlene was a beautiful girl with big blue eyes, blonde hair, and smooth, satin skin while Pauline was “plain” with moose brown hair and needed to wear nerdy glasses. The differences grew as they did. Darlene grew into a hotty with the kind perfect body that men drooled over and masturbated to. Poor Darlene reached a certain size and stopped growing. “Preteen Pauline” was her nickname in high school, while her best friend was called “Drop Dead Sexy Darlene”, or “Darl” or “Darly” as she sometimes like to be called. ...
Author's Note: This is my first erotic story. Judging from the typical content on this website it will be rather extreme for most readers. The character of Bianca has obviously been inspired by the most beautiful fetish model of my lifetime. All the other events and details simply represent my ultimate fantasy if I was in fact so lucky to actually be Bianca, or her new Mistress. Please feel free to criticize my work, as I am certainly not the most skilled writer in the world. Enjoy!! ...
Author's Note: If this story is well received, I’m planning on several more continuing on from where this one leaves off. Chapter 1 Early on I discovered that I was much more interested in other girls than I was boys. But I lived in a small, conservative town and didn’t want anyone to know, so I kept my interest in girls to myself. It wasn’t like I didn’t like boys - I did - It’s just that they didn’t excite me the same way the thought of being with another girl did. I think the girls in town sensed something was a little different with me. I wasn’t shunned or anything - but I also didn’t have any close female friends in high school. I did have male friends, and even boyfriends - partly because it was expected of me - but also for companionship, friendship, and just having someone to hang out with on a Saturday night. I wasn’t much interested in sex with them, so I’d usually find an excuse to break up with them when it started to feel like they were expecting our relationship to become sexual. More than once, they ended the relationship for me, leaving me for another girl that was more… accommodating. ...
Author's Note: : This story is merely an attempt to put down a fantasy of mine onto paper. Please feel free to share any comments/suggestions you may have regarding this story or future work. Oh, and most importantly: enjoy! ;D It was dark, too dark… I sat there in the darkness unable to move. My bindings felt tight and unforgiving, even though I could not see them. I was lying completely naked on a leather-covered contraption with my legs raised in the air and widely spread. I felt the subtle air movement caressing my exposed and accessible asshole. I was obviously strapped down tightly as I could not move a muscle no matter how much I tried. As I concentrated on my breathing I also realized my mouth was spread wide open using what I guessed was a dental gag. It felt like my jaw would dislocate if my mouth were opened any wider. ...
Author's Note: This story is based on a captioned image that I found while browsing the internet. I also took some (read: a lot of) artistic freedom with it, but the basic idea is the same. Chapter 1 Mariah awoke to the sound of the alarm on her phone going off. The heavy curtains drawn over her bedroom window gave no indication of the late morning sun they blocked out. Her room was dead quiet. A fan set up in the corner of the room sat idly by, waiting for even the faintest breeze to move its blades. The rest of the small house she shared with her roommate Brittany was equally still. ...
Chapter 1 - The Requisition Just after dark around 6 pm, I had slipped the lock on the side door and now waited as she returned to her house through the connecting door from the garage. The leather bag with a drawstring opening was ready. As she moved passed me with her arms full of packages, I whipped it over her head and pulled the string closed around her neck. The packages fell as I reached around and grabbed both her wrists forcing them behind her back. Before she could react I snapped on a pair of handcuffs; there was no chain between them so they held her wrists tightly together. ...
Author's Note: An extended/alternate ending also exists! You can read it here. It had been the perfect day for running - The sun was shining, but the air was cool and crisp, if it weren’t for the leaves crunching on the ground, Sallem would’ve spaced out a long time ago. The sun was nearly set now, though she was not afraid of the dark, but really wanted to get home, since running in the dark was dangerous - Potholes, cracks in the ground, and various rubbish as well.She’s a package runner - Not like a post worker, but rather, a drug mule to a certain extent. She never knew what she was carrying, the weight and size varied vastly, but it was always in a very non-descript package, and so thickly layered, that there was no inherent scent. After all these years, she figured it was probably drugs, or something illegal, but never had the guts to open one of the packages - Being the head runner for the pack that took her in off the streets, it simply was too important to not anger them. ...