Non-Consensual

Author's Note: This is the sequel to Rachael’s Abduction, which should be read before reading this story. Chapter 1 Brad couldn’t believe what a turnaround his life had taken in the past 24 hours: yesterday, he was a slave master; today, he was an owned slave! He just knew that he couldn’t survive being locked up with who knows who for a cellmate; constantly at risk for a beating or rape. At least with these two, they might be inclined to go easy on him, or even forgive him after he demonstrated repentance. Also, he had a much better chance of escaping here than if he were in prison. ...

Author's Note: Two deluded lesbians persue a unique savior complex It’s cold and windy again. It’s always cold in Seattle this time of year. The rain had stopped thankfully, as I slowly cruised through the Pioneer Square area. Mostly home to the more seamy side of life in the greater Pacific Northwest. Drug addicts, prostitutes, wannabe gangsters, we have it all here. Yes indeed, Seattle Washington. The end of the line for many. Why is it the down and out always ended up going north? I mean ya get thrown out of LA, ya move to San Francisco, from there Portland, from there right here. ...

Author's Note: This is my first ever porn/bondage story/whatever, so please be kind (and I know it’s weird. Really. This is actually a toned down version of the weirdest and most vivid dream I’ve ever had). Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it (do you do that on this site? I don’t know). Anyway… enjoy! Part 1 I wasn’t too sure about staying with my uncle, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. Mum and Dad hadn’t made a will, so I automatically went to the closest family member - it didn’t matter much to social services we’d met only twice, they just wanted me off their hands. ...

Author's Note: Warning: creepo characters and darker themes, including heavy misandry and misogyny. Also futa. Proceed with caution. Rat —- The chill crept through my jacket as I lumbered down the foggy street. The street lights shone bright and their reflections peered back at me on the dewy asphalt. Fall in New England, beautiful in the day and haunting at night. My footsteps fell on the sidewalk, clap clap clap clap, echoing around the silent and empty street. ...

Amanda and I have been seeing each other pretty steadily for at least eighteen months. We have never formally moved in together, but we have spent a lot of time at each others’ places - usually mine, since I have a house that has a lot more space and privacy than Amanda’s tiny apartment. At first the relationship was really good. Physically, she’s a knockout - petite, with shoulder-length chestnut hair, a trim body with breasts just big enough to make an inviting handful but not big enough to have any droop. We have tastes - in music, in films, in outdoor activities – that overlap enough to make our lives compatible without being so much the same that it would be boring. She seemed to enjoy my company, my conversation, our shared activities, and most of all, our sex life. She loved fucking me, and could come three or four times in a row seemingly without effort. She could always nudge me into some of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. ...

Author's Note: This is not fiction. It is a true account. It is 100% factual. In my previous tale “Real life restraint” I recounted the true story of my first bondage experience and of the lady who allowed me to tie her. (Search my name to find it). In the closing paragraph I mentioned another girl from later in my life who I shared my first anal sex experience with. I have had requests to explain who she was. So this is the story of Rachael and of my journey into anal sex. This will be a difficult story for me to tell as I have to admit a few things I am ashamed of. ...

Amanda Night left the party like she had left almost every party since she had turned 13, completely drunk and wasted. She refused the offer of a ride home, telling anyone that would listen to her slurred words that she could drive better drunk than any of them could sober. No one believed her, as it was a well known fact that she was facing serious jail time for multiple drunk driving infractions, including an injury accident that promised at least a year in jail. She had not been expressly invited to the party, but she was a part of some reality show on one of the millions of channels on the tube and as such was always privy to whatever parties were happening. The network that broadcast her series secretly made every effort to get her into every Hollywood social setting it could, since her being drunk and spoiled and slutty were what made her show the minor hit it was. So no one tried to stop her when she slid behind her moms late model BMW, and screeched off. It was one of the few nights in the last few months where there wasn’t a camera crew following closely behind her, and that lack of supervision was about to cost her everything. She pulled out of the long driveway, and a bit confused about where she was, immediately took a wrong turn. Even in her inebriated state she knew right away that the scenery was all wrong. She was feeling sick to her stomach and just wanted to lie down for a couple minutes, when a turn came up too quickly for her dulled senses to compensate for. The car went straight over a mail box, then planted itself into a hedge, with Amanda shaken up badly, but otherwise unhurt. She could see she had come to rest outside of one of the countless mansions that dotted this side of the hills of Hollywood. Groggily she opened the door and threw up, barely able to keep herself from falling into her own sick. She groped around for her purse and phone, but could not find them under the seat of the car where they had fallen. Someone was coming towards her from the house, and Amanda waited patiently for whoever it was to arrive and fix things. A slender, late middle aged woman appeared in front of Amanda. ...

Author's Note: This is a somewhat silly story, not to be taken too seriously. It probably maligns hypnotic therapy quite unjustly. It started with the recipe metaphor but ended up with Lola Jones. I wasn’t expecting that :) It has no direct intercourse but I think the story touches on most sexual themes. I have flagged it as Consensual and Non-Consensual. It really is one or the other but I will leave it to you to decide which it is. ...

When a modern day trial is completed, one of two things happen. If the defendant has been found innocent, then he or she is free to go, walking out of the courthouse in the clothes they came in. If the defendant is found guilty however…then their ordeal in the justice system is just beginning. They are taken from the courtroom into the basement and changed into their new outfits…orange one piece jumpsuits, along with their new jewelry, so to speak. That of course, being handcuffs and leg irons. ...

Chapter 1 After the final phone call, Ann turned off her iPhone. She took a deep breath and fondled her hair. It was too hot in the condo, so the strands of hair were sticking together. For today, she had done everything. The girls would wait until they got their orders. Ann walked into the kitchen. A glass of white wine stood beside the stove. She took a sip, even though the wine had adapted to the condos temperature. ...