Non-Consensual

Author's Note: This is my another attempt to write a long term bondage story. Readers, who already are familiar of my previous stories, know that English is not my first language. So please excuse me for grammatical errors. The characters are imaginary, any similarities in real life is purely coincidental. The name of the countries taken in this story are just to make it real and not to offend anyone. Please comment at the end of the story. They inspire me to write more… ...

Author's Note: He wants to try the chair. But it turns out to be a mistake My, was I pleased to finish that job. It wasn’t much, just change a ballcock in the attic, but that must have been the filthiest attic I have ever been in. Muck and filth everywhere. By the time I had finished I was black. Still it was Wednesday, two thirty in the afternoon, and I was finished. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving. Four glorious days with nothing to do, but relax. ...

Author's Note: Emma’s attempts to escape from her kidnapper get a bit bogged down. Emma had very little recollection of her actual abduction, although the events leading up to her capture were etched indelibly in her mind. On the day in question, she had been attending her regular Tuesday evening yoga class at the local gym. Just after the class had finished and she was preparing to get changed and leave for home, however, her mobile phone had rung and she’d stepped out of the changing rooms and into the corridor to take the call. It had been an old friend calling and for several minutes the two women had chatted and caught up on all the latest news. In fact, so engrossed did she become in her conversation, that Emma lost track of time, and by the end of the call more than twenty five minutes had elapsed and she found that her fellow classmates had all left the premises. It was now just gone 10pm, which meant that the gym had now closed for the day and the caretaking staff would be waiting to lock up and go home. ...

Author's Note: this a milder more in depth version of a another story i wrote called taken and sold. if enough people like chapter one i will hopefully publish chapter two but that’s down to you folks as i am new to writing and only want to make what others enjoy reading _Update (2012/11/16):* this my second attempt at writing a story a milder version of my take nand sold working into it more gently hope you like it better than my first attempt. Remember some parts may sound strange but they were written in game form to be descriptive to my partner player over e mail.* ...

Author's Note: This my third posted story under my bondage modeling name this time as I model for bound Kathy and friends and on fetlife. The way it is written may seem strange but please bear with me i have done it as i would replies to the online game i play from my perspective as the story is based on a game my hubby ran Chapter One: The Abduction ...

Author's Note: Apart from the glaring technical inaccuracies and technologies that don’t exist I’m sure there’s a point in here about data security. However I’m much more interested in the sex and bondage, hopefully you’ll enjoy it regardless! Sometimes it concerns me how much faith people put in technology. I’m tech savvy, in fact very savvy and what’s worse (at least for my clients) is that I’m often bored. My most recent foray into the technology underworld came while I was contracted to a newspaper for IT support. Their systems were a state and it took me several weeks of late nights, takeaways and sleep deprivation to untangle the mess my predecessor had left. ...

Author's Note: Agent Midsummer is an operative of MI7. Whilst on a mission she is captured, teased, tormented, and tortured by a series of evil criminals and materminds as she stumbles from one predicament to another as she tries to escape Chapter 1 Mission Failure, Suzzanne falls in with some very bad people She heard a soft click and then something cold and hard pressed against the base of her skull, and a cold voice she spoke close to her ear “Hello Agent Midsummer, we’ve been expecting you”. She shifted her weight and the gun barrel pressed harder, “Ah Ah, no sudden moves, keep very still” ...

Author's Note: Forget Wonder Woman ! Join Boot Girl as she battles Villainesses across the Harmony skyline, rescues damsels in distress and endures some pretty intense bondage…while trying to hold down her job and explore her submissive side. Part 1: Introductions ‘This is good stuff.’ Jezebel takes a second sip of wine and settles back on the expensive white leather sofa crossing her legs on the back of the pretty and nearly naked brunette tied securely to the low table in front of her by lengths of soft silk rope. ‘I must say I really admire your taste.’ Jezebel looks round at the spacious apartment with its minimalist decor. ‘This is a lovely apartment. And, of course, you’ve been so helpful. I’m sure you’ve earned a good few hours of pleasure tonight.’ ...

Author's Note: This is a story of a bondage loving attorney who occasionally becomes a damsel in distress Update (07/31/11) - The continuing saga of a comely attorney who is crowned Hostage of the Year, (well actually Runner Up). If the Hostage cannot perform her duties, her Runner Up … Chapter 1 - Bait DATE: NOVEMBER 10, 2007 TIME: 2:16 AM LOCATION: DAVIES NATATORIUM Raika Élan, Attorney-At-Law, floated passively in the water. A wet suit encased her body. Actually, the counselor wore two wetsuits and a large dildo filled her anus. The “full Aldridge” her captor quipped. Putting on this get up was difficult, but the added warmth slowed hypothermia in the frigid water. The rubber clung to her perky breasts as they heaved with each labored breath. Raika feared that each inhalation may be her final one. Despite the experience of her many misadventures, this time she confronted overwhelming dread. ...

James stopped at the food court to grab a burger on his way to the arcade on his break. He was still munching it as he stepped into the strange, dark world of Buck-A-Fuck, starting down the center aisle looking for a vacant right-side-up mouth. They had recently remodeled the arcade. Everything – the stations, the walls, ceiling, and vinyl floor – were all matte black with only dim lights in the aisles. Every second station on each side of the aisle presented an ass, thrust through and trapped in place by the large openings built into the wall. In the unoccupied stations, small but brilliant spotlights focused on the available holes from above and below to show what was on offer, twin spheres of flesh framing the welcoming slits and puckers, their skin seeming to glow in the darkened room. The holes glistened with lube. ...