<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?>
<rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/">
  <channel>
    <title>Predicament on Utopia Stories Library</title>
    <link>/tags/predicament/</link>
    <description>Recent content in Predicament on Utopia Stories Library</description>
    <generator>Hugo</generator>
    <language>en-us</language>
    <atom:link href="/tags/predicament/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
    <item>
      <title>1st and Goal</title>
      <link>/stories/15278/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/15278/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Football season had arrived (finally), but Bertram Seagram was not a happy man. Sole owner of the newly franchised team, the Memphis Maulers, things looked bleak when they should have held great promise. His staff of attorneys had finished sifting through the league contract and discovered something very disconcerting. If the team did not show a profit by the end of their very first season, the franchise would be placed in a lottery for other markets to bid upon. Of course, this revelation was made after Seagram had signed the agreement.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>2 for 1</title>
      <link>/stories/32582/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/32582/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; For those of you who asked for a part 2 -here ya go. No, this is not based on a real life adventure, but boy do i wish it were.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;EDIT: Initially was going to make this a 1 part story. Up to 3 now, with at least one more on the way. Mom&amp;rsquo;s and daughters, what do you think if you read this? I&amp;rsquo;d be interested to hear in the comments.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>A Beautiful Friendship</title>
      <link>/stories/79972/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/79972/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This came out quite a bit longer than I originally intended.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was Saturday, around 10:00 a.m., and Emily Walker sat on the couch of the small house she rented watching television and drinking coffee. She was dressed in loose light-gray workout pants with thick pink socks. She wore a sky-blue t-shirt that came to just above her navel, exposing her flat stomach. The tight t-shirt hugged body like a second skin, emphasizing her breasts, making it obvious that she wore no bra. She had her long legs pulled up in front of her on the couch, and she peered over them at the television. She shook her head a bit to clear her bangs from her eyes, setting her blond, asymmetrical bob in motion.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>A Dance in the Cage</title>
      <link>/stories/73588/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/73588/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;You know the girls dancing in those cages at clubs? Sometimes on a pedestal, sometimes suspended over the raving crowd? Ever wondered how they ended up there and what makes them move all night?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Despite the allegedly soundproof glass Bianka felt the vibrations at her eardrums, in the pit of her stomach, in the tip of her pen. The bass pounded its way through every structure, item and living being in the whole building. It was the heartbeat of the club, and with the small hours of the night being near it was hammering wilder than ever. If the owner, manager and icon of &lt;em&gt;Club Noir&lt;/em&gt; were to turn around from her desk, she would be able to overlook the main floor through the glass wall of her office. She would see the fetish folk celebrating its own depravity, loosing itself in the dark world the legendary Bianka Schönfeld provided. A world of masks and collars, of monogloves and hobble skirts, where leather was the new lace and black the new black. To the left the long cool-lit bar ran in a wide arc alongside the clubbing area, which in turn bordered at the right on the VIP lounge. Further in the back the entrance to the lower levels awaited those in search for more titillating activities. The rooms for this spicy kind of entertainment were soundproof, for sure.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>A Dangerous Family Game</title>
      <link>/stories/66966/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/66966/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;The Game Players:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Carina, or Carrie, that’s me – age 18, height 5 foot 11 inches, weight 165 pounds, measurements, 42D bust/30 waist/42 hips.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Cassandra, my mother – age 40, height 5 foot 11 inches, weight 160 pounds. Measurements, 40C bust/32 waist/40 hips.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Janine, my grandmother, Cassandra’s Mother – age 59, height 5 foot 10 inches, weight 170 pounds, measurements, 42D bust/34 waist/44 hips.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The two people closest to me are my mom and my grandma. Mom and I have been a single parent household for a long time now, and grandma Jan is so often involved with us too. We are all lesbians and a bit kinky, and all pretty much Domme too. But we don’t compete or try to push each other around, everyone’s comfortable. And we are not sexual with each other, but very open about our sex lives and preferences and kinks. I’m close to mom now, but right after the divorce, it was kind of difficult for me to communicate with her. She was loving and did her best with me, and I realize now that I was just generally hurt and confused at that time. So when I was discovering my sexuality I would always go to grandma Jan to ask questions and talk about things that were on my mind. She was really my mentor, sexually and as a Domme. I finally relaxed with mom too, and we were also very frank and open about the same things.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>A Slave to Fashion</title>
      <link>/stories/57726/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/57726/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story is based on a story entitled &amp;ldquo;The Trap&amp;rdquo; by Wanda. Although much of this story is my original work, I attempted to seek permission to write this story, but all of her known e-mail addresses are inactive.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Tara and I had been co-workers for a few months. We worked together at a clothing company that specialized in latex, leather and bondage wear. Even though we both landed our jobs at around the same time, Tara always told everyone that she had seniority over me.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>A Tough One</title>
      <link>/stories/45826/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/45826/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Although I submitted it as my second work on this site, this story is somewhat older than &amp;ldquo;Dorei&amp;rdquo;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She wasn&amp;rsquo;t exactly pretty. Attractive, yes. Intriguing, sure. Some &amp;ndash; most &amp;ndash; might even say beautiful. But pretty? There lay a kind of hardness in her features, making it difficult to connect her to terms such as &amp;ldquo;cute&amp;rdquo; or &amp;ldquo;twee&amp;rdquo;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I would call her Rho, for her real name is of no consequence anymore. &lt;em&gt;ρ&lt;/em&gt;, the sixteenth letter of the Greek alphabet. Or, minding that it was to be a proper name, the capital form: &lt;em&gt;P&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Abducting An Angel</title>
      <link>/stories/52238/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/52238/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a slow-paced, sensual fantasy. If you&amp;rsquo;re looking for a fast romp, look elsewhere. It does, however, cut right to the chase. No mucking about with lengthy backstories, breast sizes, or body weights.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;So&amp;hellip; The story is written entirely from a first-person narrative, but that person switches a number of times throughout. I spend most of my time narrating from the girl&amp;rsquo;s perspective, though, since I find that more interesting. You&amp;rsquo;ll hopefully notice that I tried to capture the focus of each character with my narrative - as the female, I spend most of the time describing what she thinks, feels, and sees around her. As the male, I spend most of the time describing the female. Males are a narrow-minded species, after all. ;)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Agobend Univeristy: Kate&#39;s Hazing</title>
      <link>/stories/71544/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/71544/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is my first story ever, and it involved the introduction of Agobend University, a prestigious if secretive college where kinky adventures are a frequent occurrence among the students and faculty.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Kate was so excited to finally be attending Agobend University. She had to admit, she was kind of nervous. Kate had heard so many nasty rumors about this Agobend University, about the horrible, cruel, and usually sexual hazing rites that happened. But her parents insisted it was just rumors and hearsay, having attended the same college themselves. In fact, her father had been on the committee that welcomed her mother to University! It was what led to them eventually getting married. None of that stuff actually happened, there would be a huge outcry about it! It couldn&amp;rsquo;t possibly be true, she told herself.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Andrea and the Uncertain Future</title>
      <link>/stories/60722/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/60722/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is the 8th story in the series &amp;ldquo;The Stories of Bound Friends.&amp;rdquo; I will continue to post here but I will also be posting extras and updates the moment they are ready on my blog: &lt;a href=&#34;http://jessbbaby.blogspot.com/&#34;&gt;http://jessbbaby.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;So no one else finds it odd?&amp;rdquo; Megan asked as the four sat lazily around the couches playing cards.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Just count your blessings, right now we have free reign so who cares why?&amp;rdquo; Sophia said as she played a card and drew another.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Anja The Jungle Queen Sacrfice</title>
      <link>/stories/70578/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/70578/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Anja awoke from a fitful sleep, she stared at the sun and the new dawning morning knowing that this day would be like no other. Today the proud jungle queen would allow herself to be captured by one of her mortal enemies. As Anja rose and stretched her thin muscular body towards the new day she shuddered to think of all the torments and tortures that she was sure were in store for her. Looking below she quickly maneuvered down from her small tree house to the river below.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Bad Decisions</title>
      <link>/stories/77872/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/77872/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Evie has a history of making bad decisions. Now every decision is a bad decision.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Starting at chapter 3, each chapter splits as you may proceed like a &amp;ldquo;choose your own adventure&amp;rdquo; style story. I&amp;rsquo;d love to hear your feedback.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1: Bad Decisions&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Evie awoke with a groan on the hard cement floor. She fought back a wave of nausea as she tried to recall what happened last night. She had decided to go out with her friends to celebrate quitting the job that she hated. She wasn&amp;rsquo;t sure what she was going to do next with her life, but she really needed to blow off steam. So, equipped with her sluttiest skirt and her favorite &amp;ldquo;fuck me&amp;rdquo; pumps she went out to the club to party and forget that she had no job, no savings, and no prospects. Besides, other than the cover, the drinks were going to be on all the gullible guys at the club. A flirty smile, and a shake of her tits, and they had fallen over themselves to buy her drink after drink. She spent a fair amount of time with a particularly handsome guy who had an unusual interest in who she was there with and whether she had any family in the area.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Belated Bondage Suprise</title>
      <link>/stories/30846/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/30846/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Readers: This is my second work of fiction although some portions of the story are true. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prologue&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was my wife Paula&amp;rsquo;s birthday weekend and I was in a tight spot. The shopping for my wife gift is normally done weeks in advance, looking for that special something that she will enjoy. This year life had been more challenging than most as my job causes me to be gone for hours or days at a time servicing the customers at their location on demand. It&amp;rsquo;s not unusual to have a call in the night and be gone for several days. The plus side is when not on call I normally have the extended weekend to make up for the missed time. With a second person now hired the job will eventually get back to a more normal pace and less time away from home. During all this running around over the last month I&amp;rsquo;d completely forgotten to shop for my wife birthday gift and felt awful about it. For those who don&amp;rsquo;t know me, I&amp;rsquo;m Jack, a man in the late forties, still physically fit, 5&#39;9&amp;quot; and 165 lbs, with light brown hair and blue eyes. Like many others I&amp;rsquo;ve enjoyed bondage and self bondage all of my adult life.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Bondage Boutique</title>
      <link>/stories/59868/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/59868/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Please feel free to leave suggestions.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Shop&amp;hellip; or as its owner, Glenda styled it, the Boutique&amp;hellip; was an old detached cottage placed well back form the street. Nothing marked it out as unusual or unique from any other business in the quiet street. The windows were tinted making it impossible to see what or who was inside. The only thing that made the building standing out from the rest of the street was a pretty hand-made sign with &amp;ldquo;Rose Acre Boutique&amp;rdquo; painted on. What exactly the Boutiques business was a mystery to anybody who happened to notice it.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Bondagent Mission Dark Cloud</title>
      <link>/stories/69430/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/69430/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Recruitment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Once again I had to point out to my lecturer why he was wrong, why what he is preaching was so last year. This was a regular occurrence, the instructor, the so called &amp;lsquo;subject matter expert&amp;rsquo; or SME, starting a class, and me taking over and finishing it.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I got confident enough and brave enough during last year to start correcting them, and this year some of the lecturers were actually coming to me at the start of the term to check their facts so as not to be embarrassed by me like this during class.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Britney&#39;s Predicament</title>
      <link>/stories/72762/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/72762/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;The buzzer sounded, indicating someone was at the door of the apartment building downstairs. Before Denise could cross the room to answer it, it buzzed again. &amp;ldquo;Sweet Jesus,&amp;rdquo; she muttered. &amp;ldquo;Yes, where&amp;rsquo;s the fire?&amp;rdquo; she asked, unable to hide the annoyance from her voice.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Denise, it&amp;rsquo;s Britney, I didn&amp;rsquo;t know where else to go,&amp;rdquo; came back a desperate voice.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Oh, Britney. Wasn&amp;rsquo;t expecting you today, why don&amp;rsquo;t you make your way up and tell me what&amp;rsquo;s going on,&amp;rdquo; Denise said.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Bungee Bet</title>
      <link>/stories/80168/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/80168/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This was a nice story to write&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Today was not unlike any other day except that for today it was going to be unique and special. It had started off like any other morning, waking up in bed laying next to the man who had over time became very dear to me. Dear in ways to which I would have ever dreamed were possible. I had often thought about living such a life and I am grateful for those memories which brought them all to reality.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Caged Lovers</title>
      <link>/stories/50516/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/50516/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;Bill came home to find his wife dressed up &amp;ldquo;fit to kill.&amp;rdquo; She was all in black and it had all come from Victoria&amp;rsquo;s secret, except the shoes. Her lacy push up bra moved her spectacular chest up and out, putting her size C breasts on display. The waist cinch took her already small waist in a bit further and accentuated the curve of her hips. Black silken stockings attached to garters on the cinch and highlighted her long, slender legs, made even longer by the black patent five inch high heels that graced her feet. The thong at her crotch barely covered anything.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Cam Whores</title>
      <link>/stories/79846/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/79846/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; If you&amp;rsquo;re here for the &amp;lsquo;good stuff&amp;rsquo; and not the story, then start at chapter 2. Enjoy. I&amp;rsquo;d love to hear your feedback.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1: Bad Brake&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Vanessa moaned in utter ecstasy, thrusting her hips against the vibrator buried deep in her pussy. She seductively rubbed her big, round tits and curled her toes as she writhed on the bed. Spent, she slumped back onto the silk sheets. After a moment, she brushed her long black hair out of her face and winked at the camera mounted on her desk in front of the bed. She blew it a kiss before getting up and turning it off. She glanced at the clock on the wall.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Choking On Her Aspirations</title>
      <link>/stories/80966/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/80966/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; I&amp;rsquo;m not an engineer, so if anyone can figure out an actual device that does what I describe, I&amp;rsquo;d definitely be interested.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jane was shy, single, and kinky. It was a perfect recipe to result in her curiosity and experimentation with self bondage.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In her adolescence she would breathlessly wait for her parents to leave on a grocery trip, or she would fake illness to avoid joining a visit to a relative&amp;rsquo;s. While alone in the house, Jane delighted in her top secret and favorite activity of binding herself with whatever materials she could get her hands on.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Christopher&#39;s Predicament</title>
      <link>/stories/32204/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/32204/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Not for the squeamish!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The sound suddenly woke him from the restless half sleep he had come to accept as rest. He assumed his sister was doing something to cause the noise that roused him from yet another uncomfortable night, but of course, blinded by the sleep mask, he had no way of knowing for sure. He squirmed on the bed, more to let her know he was awake than anything else, wrists and ankles pulling at the locked leather cuffs and chains that held him rigidly in position. His inability to move his arms or legs more than an inch was the root cause of his lack of a good night&amp;rsquo;s sleep; something he hadn&amp;rsquo;t had since his sister started chaining him to his bed a little over four months ago.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Circus Maximus</title>
      <link>/stories/80588/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/80588/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Roll up, roll up, The Circus is back in town; a medley of thrills and spills; here to tease and to please, to delight and excite; you&amp;rsquo;ll meet familiar characters and exotic caricatures; all the base emotions are here: lust, hate, fear, envy; all freely available, a world of escapism.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There is something here for everybody: fame, infamy, laughter, pain, desire, satisfaction, sex, heartache and, perhaps, love; it&amp;rsquo;s your chance to see, to touch and, if you&amp;rsquo;re lucky, to be touched; a window on a wonderous world or, for the very lucky, a doorway into it.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Convincing Argument</title>
      <link>/stories/61534/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/61534/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;He had agreed to her terms about four hours into their first date.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She would make all decisions regarding their sexual relationship and he would cooperate completely, no compromise.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Since then he had step-by-step become more and more the plaything she wanted him to be, beginning a monumental workout schedlue, eating only what she gave him and completing any task she desired.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He stayed at her house and did any and all work required there - including cleaning, maintenance, and yard work. She had taken him to a clinical piercing facility several weeks into the agreement and had a thick metal ring installed up through the underside of his circumcised penis head, practically filling his urethra and remaining as a tangible weight from that day forward.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Creating a Rubber Pony</title>
      <link>/stories/57684/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/57684/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Another round of &amp;rsquo;training&amp;rsquo; for the plague demoness Jessi; brought to you by the Dominatrix, Maus. Not a sequel to &amp;lsquo;Jessicka&amp;rsquo;s New Role&amp;rsquo; per se, but simply another enjoyable moment in Jessicka&amp;rsquo;s training, with all new clothing and toys!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The demoness had been living with this new-fangled collar for the better part of a month now, and every time it was &amp;lsquo;activated&amp;rsquo;, it surprised her - It seemed capable of doing anything, even thwarting her demonic powers at times. Jessicka is a plague and pestilence demon, a very rare type with a very specific usage that few demons or humans encounter - Though it happens that these type LACK &amp;lsquo;proper&amp;rsquo; personality, great physical strength like most other demons, fire-based powers, but all the same fun brought on by a low sense of self-discipline.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Date Night</title>
      <link>/stories/34038/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/34038/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;About a year ago I took a job five hours away from where my girlfriend and I had lived. I was off every weekend so I would come home every other weekend for the first few months. I became concerned for our relationship so I started to come home almost every weekend. We had our ups and downs but now a year later we are still together. One of my biggest concerns was that she would find someone else and leave me.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Devon Bondage Girl</title>
      <link>/stories/32736/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/32736/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a fantasy about a friend of mine, wouldn&amp;rsquo;t it be wonderful if she really was into bondage &amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Part 2 and things get a little out of hand. I&amp;rsquo;ve got some ideas for Part 3 but if anyone&amp;rsquo;s enjoying this and has any ideas, feel free to post them - let&amp;rsquo;s make Sally suffer (but in a nice way) !&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Hi, my name is Sally and I live in rural Devon, England, one of the prettiest parts of the country. I am 25 and single, have long blonde hair, a slim body and 34C breasts. I inherited a large Victorian house in a tiny hamlet, so I have no mortgage and can get by nicely on my salary as a part-time teaching assistant at a local primary school.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Dian Taylor - Oh My God!</title>
      <link>/stories/67400/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/67400/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; I hope you enjoy this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is quite long, seven parts in all; but as the character of Dian develops then so does her risk-taking, adventure and fascination with bondage.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1: All About Me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Candy has hassled me for some time to commit this, my story, to paper; and now, as I will explain later, she has found the necessary motivation to make me.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Distractions</title>
      <link>/stories/82422/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/82422/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Tried to write something a little shorter&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He sat in the easy chair with his feet up, watching &lt;em&gt;Remains of the Day&lt;/em&gt;. He took a sip of his Scotch on the rocks and replaced the glass on the end table. The balmy temperature of the living room allowed him to indulge in the comfort of bare feet, jeans and a simple, black t-shirt. He looked to his left.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Domme Goes In, Slut Comes Out</title>
      <link>/stories/59784/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/59784/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This follows on from my previous story featuring Felicity Rivers. To read or not to read, that is the question. It&amp;rsquo;s up to you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Deep in the bowels of a sprawling metropolis, eSensual Studios made their millions. On the surface their facilities resembled an unassuming apartment block, but below the busy city streets was another story. Their business was entirely legitimate, of course, but nonetheless it was prudent to conceal their activities from the public eye. Some called it the sex industry; others the porn industry, or the adult industry. None of these titles were entirely true for them, however: not the first, since their operation was frequently about more than simple sex; not the second, because filming models was only part of what they did; and not the last, because their patrons weren&amp;rsquo;t always adults - at least, not in age, though of course always in physical maturity. No, it was unlikely that a single label could do the company justice.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Dorei</title>
      <link>/stories/45546/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/45546/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; I&amp;rsquo;m a twenty-something from Europe, writing short stories and narrations (erotic and non-erotic) for several years.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;A longer narration of mine deals with certain Japanese elements. To get in the mood for a sequel, I wrote this short story.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Box&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The box had arrived just in time. Nakamura&amp;rsquo;s two &amp;ldquo;gentlemen&amp;rdquo; went to work unloading it as soon as the garage&amp;rsquo;s roller shutter had closed behind the inconspicuous white delivery van. One of them I knew by name: Tanaka, a ridiculously muscular bloke in an ill-fitting jacket. He was beyond any doubt capable of dragging the box alone. Hence his scrawny new colleague was rather latching onto the wooden crate while it was pulled out of the van.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Dream Girl</title>
      <link>/stories/53134/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/53134/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is the first serious bit of fiction writing I have ever done, and as such I am desperately hungry for feedback. You can contact me at &lt;a href=&#34;mailto:karmap0licemen@gmail.com&#34;&gt;karmap0licemen@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;. Please, tell me what you think. The characters, especially John, have been inspired by personal events, but as I am not so lucky as him please let me know about problems with the authenticity of the bondage, or just tell me your ideas about where I should take the story next.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Exit Test</title>
      <link>/stories/61128/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/61128/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;Sandra sank further into the bath, the warm water lapping over her shapely frame. The marble lined tub filled to the brim with scalding water was the magnum opus of luxury. Dim lights accentuated by the flicker of candles and a faint scent of lavender completing the relaxing mood. The lavish expanse of the room, not a wall for meters in any direction from the opulent tub, contrasted heavily with her memory of the recent past. If only she could stay here forever, in this moment. But this was not her reward; this was her test.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Felicity Rivers Bound and Fucked Senseless</title>
      <link>/stories/56690/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/56690/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The door creaked open and an innocent-looking girl entered the room, flinching as the heavy metal door slammed back into place. She looked around the room uncertainly, perhaps wondering if she was in the right place.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Hello,&amp;rdquo; I greeted her, smiling serenely. Her eyes darted to me and a shy smile broke out across her features.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Uhh.. H-Hi, sir. Are you The Bondsman?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;That I am, girl. And you would be&amp;hellip;?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Forced Before A Stranger</title>
      <link>/stories/33996/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/33996/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; For Miss Patricia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Recently online I found Miss Patricia. Other than what her profile states I don&amp;rsquo;t know much about her. I haven&amp;rsquo;t even seen a photo of her as her profile has only images of a sub bound in some rather delightful ways. The only description I have of her is that she is 44, 5&#39;5&amp;quot; tall and is African American. Just some of the items listed in her profile include: Orgasm control, chastity, CBT, collars, bondage, queening, canes and crops, blindfolds&amp;hellip; wait right there. Blindfolds and masks. That reminds me of one of my most exciting experiences. It involved my previous Mistress Rebekah. She recently moved about 1200 miles away so needless to say I am now available.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Friends Reunited</title>
      <link>/stories/74148/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/74148/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He traveled to the hotel excited at seeing his friend. The plan was for him to check in while she was still at work. On arrival at the front desk, he gave his name. &amp;ldquo;Oh your girlfriend has already checked in at lunchtime here is you key card room 415&amp;rdquo;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Thanks&amp;rdquo; he said and made his way to the lift. He messaged his friend to say at the hotel I see you already checked in? She instantly replied &amp;ldquo;yep had some spare time on my lunch break. Enjoy your surprise x&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Gag Sentence</title>
      <link>/stories/64012/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/64012/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I made a big mistake, a BIG mistake. I thought it would be over quicker and so it would be easier. Wrong. How hard could it be? Oh my God! I had eight more days and after one day, actually 8 hours, I thought I was going to die. Let me explain&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In 2033 the crime rate was sky high. The prisons were overflowing. So a law was passed that gave convicted criminals a choice, do much longer time than in the past or do much shorter time in a correctional facility where you would be punished during your sentence. The punishment was in keeping with your crime. For example, my crime was perjury; I was to be punished for speaking falsely so I was to be punished by being gagged. You don&amp;rsquo;t even want to know the punishment for prostitution, holy shit. Anyway I chose the punishment facility; I figured how hard could a gag be? This is my story of my first day.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Gail&#39;s Long Day</title>
      <link>/stories/80518/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/80518/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Just one day in the life of a man who is utterly controlled. A male [pet for the delectation of women who are rather more than dominant! Controlled, not just by the women that enjoy a little service, but a system of automated and computer controlled slavery that watches and punishes automatically when transgressions are sensed. This longer tale was written originally to play with the idea of having an automated control system to take the heavy-loading from maintaining a sexual slave and leave just the pleasure of ownership. BTW, I did a little advert for the systems that are on show at the end of the tale. An amusing closing note&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Hanging Around</title>
      <link>/stories/29992/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/29992/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Just a short story I&amp;rsquo;ve worked off and on for a while. Hope you enjoy!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Trish paused in the shadow of the doorway, glancing nervously in all directions before opening the rusted metal door to the abandoned industrial building and stepping inside the cool darkness. Safe inside, she dropped a small clear plastic bag to one side. The bag clinked lightly as it hit the floor. The pupils of her startlingly light blue eyes expanded instantly to compensate for the lack of light, and it took her a few minutes for her vision to adjust.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Health Inspection</title>
      <link>/stories/59518/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/59518/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;Emma swore softly under her breath as the blare of the other car&amp;rsquo;s horn jerked her back to reality. She waved apologetically to the driver she&amp;rsquo;d cut off, and tried to concentrate harder on the road around her, blushing at her mistake. Not for the first time that morning she cursed the name of her boss at the Health and Safety Executive. When she&amp;rsquo;d been the most junior member of the inspection team, she&amp;rsquo;d accepted being sent on all the rotten inspection assignments as a price she had to pay to climb the ladder. But there were two other men on the team more junior than her now, and yet she was always the last to be consulted, always the one who got the inspections no-one else wanted.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Her Birthday Celebration</title>
      <link>/stories/47870/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/47870/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; I was stranded at a distant airport but it was her 29th birthday. She needed a fitting celebration.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s her birthday, but here I am 1400 miles away. I&amp;rsquo;m stuck in one of My least favorite airports in the world, waiting for the weather to permit the planes to take off. So I make a few phone calls in order to make arrangements before I call home.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Her whispered &amp;ldquo;Hello&amp;rdquo; greets My call.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Her Punishment</title>
      <link>/stories/63998/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/63998/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story will not be for everyone. It is inspired by a real person and I have endured a number of the things that she goes through so I write from experience.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;You seem nervous,&amp;rdquo; I began. She nodded, biting her lip. I cocked an eyebrow and she said, &amp;ldquo;Yes.&amp;rdquo; I tilted my head slightly to the side, an invitation to elaborate further and she replied, &amp;ldquo;Yes, Sir, I am nervous.&amp;rdquo; I looked her up and down. I knew she was about 40 though she took care of herself well so looked much younger. About 5&#39;4&amp;quot;, athletic though softly curved body; she apparently swam, ran, and did yoga every day. Brown hair, light brown eyes, clear fair skin, not a wrinkle nor a grey hair to be seen. Quite remarkable for the mother of a 16 year old, a 13 year old, and-the surprise child-a 3 year old. That&amp;rsquo;s where we met, pre-pre-school. I had not realized such a thing existed until I became a parent. Though it was a relief to know that it did. A morning or few a week away from the kids. Though my wife and I shared the parenting duties, it was the mothers of all of the other children who volunteered. Me and nine women, including my wife, on rotating shifts helping the teacher. That&amp;rsquo;s how we got to know her. My wife and I discussed her right after we met her at the first parent social. My wife started the conversation, &amp;ldquo;Who is the one with the dark secrets?&amp;rdquo; I replied, &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s obvious to you, too? She has some skeletons in her closet for sure. I wonder if the 3 year old is even his,&amp;rdquo; I added, referring to the father we briefly met before he disappeared into the corner for a business call. &amp;ldquo;If that is how he is all the time, I bet she feels a bit . . . neglected.&amp;rdquo; My wife nodded and said, &amp;ldquo;Shall I suss her out?&amp;rdquo; I smiled and she replied, &amp;ldquo;I will take that as a yes.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Hermione and The Fairy</title>
      <link>/stories/57166/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/57166/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;Ding-a-ling!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;With a jingle and a slam, another gaggle of children entered Weasleys&amp;rsquo; Wizard Wheezes and proceeded to set about the place. Hermione was beginning to regret accepting George Weasley&amp;rsquo;s offer of a temporary position running the shop while he traveled to Northern Africa in search of ancient practical joke spells and talismans. But, she needed the work and it coincided with the spring break of Magoolick&amp;rsquo;s Graduate School of Magical Studies where she was working on her Master&amp;rsquo;s Degree in Witchcraft.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Hermione and the Fairy Briedel</title>
      <link>/stories/71796/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/71796/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a sequel to &amp;lsquo;Hermione and the Fairy&amp;rsquo; which is a story I came across during a quiet period on the site when I took the opportunity to explore the archive. Like many readers, I thought it was a great work of sexy fan fiction and a lovely kinky story too. At the end of a story I noticed that there were several requests for a sequel - as there often are with a good one. I wanted one too but as it hasn&amp;rsquo;t appeared for the last three years, I decided to write one myself.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Hoisted Lucy</title>
      <link>/stories/68030/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/68030/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; A story of a young female apprentice finding her skills are more suited to bondage.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;A slow start building the characters and establishing the plot but if you enjoyed &amp;lsquo;Dian Taylor - Oh My God&amp;rsquo; then stick with it, this is for you; it soon livens up and never releases!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I considered myself extremely lucky; getting an established mechanic to take me on as an apprentice had been a struggle but now I had a position with what seemed like a really nice man with a lovely set-up out in the country.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Jenna</title>
      <link>/stories/43474/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/43474/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; First time at writing anything like this, feedback and (constructive) criticism welcome.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Altho&amp;rsquo; actively engaging in real life bondage I have always fantasized about discovering a &amp;lsquo;self bound&amp;rsquo; woman, someone who craves bondage so much that they will do it to themselves in the absence of someone to do it to them (yes, I know it is not always that simple). Those thoughts have inspired the fictional character here I have called Jenna - hope you enjoy the story&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Just One Night</title>
      <link>/stories/50334/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/50334/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story is for all of you that have encouraged to me to write a &amp;ldquo;short&amp;rdquo; story. I realize my other story Kari&amp;rsquo;s Journey is a long one but it is designed to be that way. This story is going to come to a conclusion much, much sooner I promise. After all the reality is this story is based on actual events that really happened. So enjoy part one and as always, comments are greatly appreciated.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Just One Week</title>
      <link>/stories/78474/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/78474/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; The old truth applies: Be careful what you ask for&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is not (quite) a true story, but it is one that could happen and most parts of it has actually happened. It has the element of consent in it, but from the perspective that consent is given once and can&amp;rsquo;t then be withdrawn until terms have been met. Where the story references real events, names have been changed to protect the (not so) innocent.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Kari&#39;s Journey</title>
      <link>/stories/11946/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/11946/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; It has been five long years since my last foray into releasing my work. I hope you enjoy this as there is a lot more I have been holding back. As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated to help me hone my skills. Enjoy!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;_&lt;em&gt;Update (2012/06/18):&lt;/em&gt;* Here are chapters 23 &amp;amp; 24. I hope these are well received as I have been trying to keep the story detailed without becoming boring. Please keep the feedback coming as it truly helps me to improve my stories. Love to hear the support as well. Hope you all are enjoying &amp;ldquo;Kari&amp;rsquo;s Journey&amp;rdquo; as much as I am writing it.*&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Kate’s Catch-22 Conundrum</title>
      <link>/stories/66560/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/66560/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; (Catch-22: a situation in which a person is frustrated by a paradoxical rule or set of circumstances that precludes any attempt to escape from them)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Although Kate was loath to admit it, there was no getting away from the facts; the blame for the predicament that she found herself in right now was entirely her own. Although her initial remark had been uttered in complete innocence, her subsequent bragging - once the subject had become a topic for debate - was not only now being shown to have been a bad move on her part, but also proved that her initial claim to be able to achieve something that she&amp;rsquo;d never even attempted before, was merely a case of wishful thinking. And now her friends were teaching her a lesson.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Khisara’s Last Walk</title>
      <link>/stories/70634/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/70634/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;Never before had Khisara witnessed such splendour. Even in her distressed state the Great Hall made her marvel in utter awe. One hundred and twenty cubits the numberless columns reached into the air, and upon entering the hall, one&amp;rsquo;s eye could not fathom its far end. The palace guards marched her along, keeping the chain to her high gold collar free of slack, but felt no need or inclination to drag at it. Whither could she flee? How could she form the mere concept of defiance in such overwhelming manifestation of unquestioned power?&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Leather or Knot</title>
      <link>/stories/22964/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/22964/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1 – First Impressions&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was late June in the Midwestern college town. Three weeks before, Dan had received his degree in Information Technology, but instead of celebrating, he was concerned for his future. The recent economic downturn had ruined his hopes for landing a job in his field, and for the first three weeks after graduation, Dan moped around his rented house checking the mail every afternoon for responses to job applications only to find nothing but bills.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Lily Bianchi - A Promise to Keep</title>
      <link>/stories/67610/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/67610/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The faint sounds of a familiar song echoed all around me. The world was dark and out of focus as I rolled away from the noisy pest. Soon enough the tune became more and more difficult to ignore, snapping me out of my daze. &amp;lsquo;Alright, alright just stop you&amp;hellip;&amp;rsquo; I stretched over to what now seemed to be a screeching torrent of noise and LEDs. &amp;lsquo;When did he change it to this crap?&amp;rsquo; The noise finally stopped and I was plunged back into darkness.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Lucy&#39;s Collar</title>
      <link>/stories/32694/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/32694/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;I hear the beeper on my collar emit one loud &amp;ldquo;tweet!&amp;rdquo; One? Damn it. Two would at least be a known quantity; just 100 strokes, barely takes a minute and George, formerly my Rottweiler but now apparently my master, is more than happy to make them quick. But one; he&amp;rsquo;ll know that it is a time thing, not a speed thing, and we could be at it for awhile.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It all started because I was pissed off. What pissed me off, you ask? Stupid porn stories.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Mall Hell</title>
      <link>/stories/68212/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/68212/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Expands a sentence from my long story &amp;lsquo;The Sissy Bargain&amp;rsquo; right after I sign a contract where Satan helps people pick boys or girls: beginner homosexuality training.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mall&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;m Brandon, penniless but I just signed a blood contract with Satan to fix that. The contract: no hitting on new women (it is fine if the girls approach me), no talking to old flings, free money. Satan and I were finishing and it was time to go home. I think his goal is make men sissies or Betas. Luckily I&amp;rsquo;ve always had lots of dates and girls so no worries. Signing went good and my advocate Rachel left.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Mark&#39;s Story</title>
      <link>/stories/31182/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/31182/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Long begining story has several parts under revisions. English not native language Greek is attempting to write better only 2 years English experience. My preference is set story up in first part then increase intensity afterward. Like to give details first then juicy stuff.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Update (2012/02/11):&lt;/strong&gt; Again dear readers remember English is not native language and I&amp;rsquo;m trying to improve. May right more or maybe just give up don&amp;rsquo;t know yet.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Megan and the Unorthodox Reunion</title>
      <link>/stories/60498/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/60498/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is the 7th story in the series &amp;ldquo;The Stories of Bound Friends.&amp;rdquo; I will continue to post the series here but I will also be posting extras and updates the moment they are ready on my blog: &lt;a href=&#34;http://jessbbaby.blogspot.com/&#34;&gt;http://jessbbaby.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Lea tried to get past what had just happened. She didn&amp;rsquo;t want to dwell on being blackmailed into extending her term of service to that AI dominatrix bitch, but how could she not? Hannah was giving her space to think on it, but she almost wished she wouldn&amp;rsquo;t. Thinking wasn&amp;rsquo;t helping. Though there&amp;rsquo;s a lot of things she wished Hannah would do that she had no power to compel. But that&amp;rsquo;s the gist of being the submissive slave, you aren&amp;rsquo;t in control. Period. And most frustrating of all, she had a safeword programmed in, but now if she ever used it the program would turn to standby which would stop it from communicating with its unknown server which would lead to all those videos all being released. No, given enough time she might just find that server, find some way to get free, but not right now.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Mellisa</title>
      <link>/stories/47142/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/47142/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Stand alone story puporting to be the second (of 3) chapter of my memories&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Memories&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I discover three bound women&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I was attending CCNY (City College of New York) on a very tight budget. I had managed to land a job that provided free rent so long as I worked as the building&amp;rsquo;s superintendent. This consisted or hauling out the trash, keeping the stairs and halls swept, doing minor &amp;lsquo;handy man&amp;rsquo; sort of repairs and calling service companies (elevator, furnace, etc.) for repairs beyond my abilities. The building was an older one but the work wasn&amp;rsquo;t too hard and except for repairs in a tenant&amp;rsquo;s apartment could be done at any hour giving me plenty of time for class and studies.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Miscalculated Entrapment</title>
      <link>/stories/36964/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/36964/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Another addition in the evolution of a relationship over the last 10 years, the basis for my writing and motivation.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As things in life sometime go, there is often an opportunity to reflect back and see the errors of ones decision making processes. This is none other than one of those fateful realizations with the horrendous but yet equally frustrating and yet fulfilling outcomes. I have so many times been lured into, at my own willingness and given direction from Janice to push my own limits and understanding of things. Here is another example of watching out for what is not always obvious to the naked eye.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Molly&#39;s Design</title>
      <link>/stories/45784/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/45784/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story starts slowly. It&amp;rsquo;s for those of us who have time to savor bondage ideas and predicaments. The discriptions in the story are fictional, please don&amp;rsquo;t try them.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1 - Molly&amp;rsquo;s Plan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Molly was a twenty six year old professional living in the Lincoln, Nebraska when we met last September. She graduated from Michigan State University with a degree in mechanical engineering a several years before and was now working for tool and die firm catering toward manufactures in the food service industry. I (Jack) work for the same firm as a machinist, fabricating parts from engineered designs, some of which she has supplied over time. She&amp;rsquo;s tall and slender for the average girl, standing five foot ten inches with slightly curly long red hair, sky blue eyes with a pretty face. I suspected her real beauty was hidden beneath the loose fitting clothing she always wore. The culmination of her drab outfits and the black horned rim glasses she wore always put guys off that might have otherwise sought her out.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>My Adventures</title>
      <link>/stories/34780/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/34780/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; : This story (blog really) is intended to be a collection of my self-bondage adventures. The depictions will be mostly true, but I may embellish from time to time. I look forward sharing my experiences with you and hopefully reading your feedback. I don&amp;rsquo;t consider myself to be a writer by any stretch, so I&amp;rsquo;ll apologize in advance for any mistakes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;November 20th, 2010&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It is pretty common that at least a couple nights a week I will tie myself up pleasure myself until I&amp;rsquo;m ready for a release. This is usually right after my first orgasm but usually depends on how strict I&amp;rsquo;m bound. You see, I&amp;rsquo;m a bit of a claustrophobic. I love being bound, but if I think there is a chance that I can&amp;rsquo;t escape I start to panic. If I&amp;rsquo;m stimulated the effects are mostly negated which is why I usually need to release myself after an orgasm.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>My Belted Adventure</title>
      <link>/stories/57698/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/57698/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; I wanted to write a story exploring the fetish of &amp;ldquo;humiliation&amp;rdquo;, as I didn&amp;rsquo;t think I completely understood it. As such, it occurred to me to write it from the point of view of a dating profile or blog, as by definition it would be humiliating to admit humiliating things to the public eye. It also means that some things may not be completely to taste to all readers, as I thought, things would have to keep pushing the characters boundaries to stay humiliating. Anyway, and despite this, I hope you enjoy the story, and look forward to feedback in the comments or via email. Thank you for reading!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>My Visit to Mistress Catherine</title>
      <link>/stories/80308/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/80308/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a very long one. It is the continued adventures of an unnamed slave/bottom from the previous stories. Like the others, this story can stand alone. Comments, suggestions for future experiences and the like are welcomed and encouraged.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DISCOVERED&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You would think that with the incredible BDSM relationship I have with Domina that I would not be interested in what is available on the Internet. The problem I have run into is ever since we started this great relationship I am constantly hungry for the next best thing. Everything we have done so far has certainly been mind blowing wonderful, but there continues to be a part of me that is yearning for something different.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Nameless</title>
      <link>/stories/68968/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/68968/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; I&amp;rsquo;ve actually never written anything besides school essays before so constructive criticism would be great. I&amp;rsquo;m always looking to improve my writing, especially in this manner.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Well anyways, thanks so much for dropping off these documents, Anne. Have a safe trip home alright?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Of course, Dave, I&amp;rsquo;ll see you at work tomorrow.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Anne slipped away towards the driveway and with one final wave, Dave closed the door and walked back into his living room. He looked at the clock and saw it was about 6 o clock. Him and Anne had been sitting on the couch in the living room for about an hour having some drinks. Anne was always a great secretary and he enjoyed spending time with her. She had a great sense of humor and was fairly attractive as well&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Ninety Days</title>
      <link>/stories/59028/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/59028/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Just a short story I wrote while bored a while back. I wanted to experiment a bit, trying to make the writing enhance the story. I love to hear from fans with ideas or feedback, please email me or leave a comment.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Slave was excited. She had been dutifully serving mistress for nearly three years now, preparing food, cleaning and serving her as well as pleasing her sexually when Mistress desired it. It was only six months ago that Mistress had noticed slave&amp;rsquo;s concentration was beginning to lapse, especially when she had commanded slave to pleasure her. As slave&amp;rsquo;s lips and tongue worked on her, Mistress noticed slave&amp;rsquo;s hands were busy under her own skirt, an unnecessary distraction. Slave couldn&amp;rsquo;t argue when mistress wrapped the chastity belt around her waist, preventing her from releasing her built up frustrations and keeping her focused on the tasks mistress had assigned. In response to her cooperation, and to give her even more reason to behave, Mistress offered slave a deal. Every ninety days, she would evaluate slave&amp;rsquo;s performance and offer slave the chance to cum if she felt slave deserved it.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Not An Affair</title>
      <link>/stories/45518/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/45518/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;What a weekend, it all started then I had a wet dream (and wet fingers) about my married next door neighbour! After telling him about the sexy dream and swapping quick suggestive banter with Howard, I wanted him. I had found some stories he had written on a BDSM web site (&amp;ldquo;the new sub-contractor&amp;rdquo;, &amp;ldquo;Talk&amp;rdquo;) which got me hot, breathless and thinking. I wanted him to hurt me and to use me crudely, like the slaves in his stories. I&amp;rsquo;m a recently single woman with two kids who really knows what she wants, and now knows how to ask for it!&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Panty Shopping</title>
      <link>/stories/51216/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/51216/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Again, another true story from us.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;NOTE: This was actually written by me, Cindy, but I decided to write it from his viewpoint. More amusing that way, if you know what I mean. I&amp;rsquo;ll also note this scenario DID require a little bit of setup - but it was quick and easy. The store manager, Katie, is a friend of a friend, and I got it all put together with a simple phone call.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Paradice Lost</title>
      <link>/stories/66714/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/66714/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; The following is Part 1 of a sequel to The Dice Game. Enjoy!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: Revealed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Dice Game took on a life of its own. For its three inventors, like most people, college was a time of self-definition and preparation for the rest of their lives. But it was also a time apart-a time when the excessive could seem reasonable and when identity was a work in progress. By the start of their senior year, these women hardly resembled the fledgling girls they had been just a year or two before. They had blossomed, and so had the Dice Game.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Paula And Jane Take A Road Trip</title>
      <link>/stories/70424/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/70424/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Bondage is dangerous so never leave someone bond and gagged and NEVER lock someone somewhere they may not be able to breathe.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;However this is a story so if you want to be a do-gooder and state the obvious, DONT.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Go and read something elsewhere as that&amp;rsquo;s your right.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Now on to the story . . . .&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I had wanted to try something for a long time, something kinky and restrictive but I had never had the nerve to ask Jane until recently. Jane was my lover and best friend. She had come across my love of bondage when I had set myself an afternoon self bondage challenge several years back.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Payment Pending</title>
      <link>/stories/30790/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/30790/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&amp;rsquo;s Notes:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a true story from a recent weekend. I&amp;rsquo;m not used to writing non-fiction so I hope you like it. To those who may wonder, the answer is 1 week :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s not very often that I have the house to myself for an entire day. This weekend the kids were away and my wife at a concert in the northern part of the state. Since she wouldn&amp;rsquo;t be returning until the next morning I decided to try out some &amp;lsquo;real&amp;rsquo; self-bondage.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Playing Games</title>
      <link>/stories/51118/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/51118/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story is written in 1st person, so the dominant could easily be any sex. But I have selected the F-f tag because the idea for the story was inspired by a work of art by Gnarly Thotep, which depicts two women. One has a noose around her neck, arms bound behind her back and one leg tied up in the air. The other woman is lifting a second rope and looks to be planning to raise the leg that&amp;rsquo;s still on the round so the woman is forced to hang from her neck.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Ponyfarm</title>
      <link>/stories/46064/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/46064/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story got written some years back. But I only published it online on one other site so I hope you don&amp;rsquo;t mind it is a repost. And I did some slight editing before submitting it here that I hope improve reading.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The two girls haven&amp;rsquo;t had any use for their eyes for a long time. Each had her head strictly packed in a leather hood with padded flaps covering both eyes and ears. The only part of their faces that could be seen were the nose that had been pierced by a thick metal ring and part of the chin.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Preparation is the Key</title>
      <link>/stories/49942/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/49942/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is an true account of what happened last month. Enjoy!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Every year, I get a few days alone all to myself. And each year, I try to take full use of that time with some intense self bondage while doing some lovely cross-dressing.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The plan for this year hatched, like all good plans do, a few months before my free time was set to start. What I had worked out I suspected would be my best episode yet. And man was I right.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Punishment For Their Crimes</title>
      <link>/stories/31532/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/31532/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Second part of a saga. It has kept going, and I wanted to post this part far to get some more feed back. Let me what you think of it so far.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is a continuation of &amp;ldquo;&lt;a href=&#34;30930.html&#34;&gt;Busted by Max&lt;/a&gt;&amp;rdquo; and if you might want to read it if you want to fully understand the situation. I will warn you this is long. Please forgive my spelling and grammar errors. I only survived English in school. Please leave you comments as well to let me know how you think the rest of the story should progress.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Rachael&#39;s Abduction</title>
      <link>/stories/63466/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/63466/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The mall was fairly busy when Rachael strolled in. It was Friday afternoon, and school had just let out for spring break. She wasn&amp;rsquo;t sure what she was shopping for; it just felt good to get away from classes and indulge in a little &amp;ldquo;me&amp;rdquo; time. She strolled down the walkway, checking out the various window displays. She didn&amp;rsquo;t notice the figure about 20 yards behind, following her every move.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Rachael&#39;s Revenge</title>
      <link>/stories/64516/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/64516/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is the sequel to Rachael&amp;rsquo;s Abduction, which should be read before reading this story.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Brad couldn&amp;rsquo;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&amp;rsquo;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.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Reality Television Star</title>
      <link>/stories/32218/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/32218/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;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&amp;rsquo;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.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Recipe for a Truly Super Sub</title>
      <link>/stories/63732/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/63732/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a somewhat silly story, not to be taken too seriously. It probably maligns hypnotic therapy quite unjustly.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;It started with the recipe metaphor but ended up with Lola Jones. I wasn&amp;rsquo;t expecting that :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;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.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Roped In For The Weekend</title>
      <link>/stories/27122/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/27122/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is my first attempt at posting a story so any constructive suggestions are welcomed. It&amp;rsquo;s about a fantasy of mine. Names have been changed to protect the guilty!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;_&lt;em&gt;Update (2013/05/19):&lt;/em&gt;* Sorry for the long delay between updates. Please let me know what you think of the story by either leaving a comment or sending me an e-mail. Gabriella*&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My field of view was dominated by a cock. It was a quite magnificent one, of a size that would fill me to my limit. I&amp;rsquo;d been in a bit of dry spell in terms of lovers and hadn&amp;rsquo;t seen a real penis in ages. The skin on the head was stretched tightly at the end of an erection. Veins stood out along the pink skin of the shaft. The whole penis wavered slightly in front of my face as if probing for my mouth. I wanted to reach up, wrap my hand around the thick rod and stroke it gently while guiding it into my parted lips. But thick coils of tightly tied ropes pinioning my arms securely behind my back prevented this. The bindings had been put there by Ingrid, my room mate from university days.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Running Free</title>
      <link>/stories/56312/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/56312/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Just a little fantasy of my own&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1 - Running Free&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My morning chore today was to clean the bathroom, which I don&amp;rsquo;t think has ever been cleaned before today. It was taking me forever to finish scrubbing the stains off the floor. Yet, I managed to turn the toilet white again, scrubbed the soap residue from the tub walls, and removed the hair out of the sink. That&amp;rsquo;s when it happened. While standing at the sink, I saw my face in the mirror. I have not seen my reflection in so long, and I was in shock of how sickly I looked. My hair was so thin, probably from all the pulling and yanking. I must have lost over 40 pounds, and my skin was so pale and flushed. I was in shock because this is not the face that I remember.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Scent of Danger</title>
      <link>/stories/35088/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/35088/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; There&amp;rsquo;s bondage that involves sex, and then there&amp;rsquo;s just bondage. Bondage is sexy, especially where the victim is wearing clothes. This is a story about an ordinary women, in an extraordinary situation. This is a true Damsel in Distress story.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Conservative long wrap skirt suit, PVC knee length skirt and silk blouse, hands tied behind back, tied in bed, cloth gags, tape gag, overly tight clothes causing breathing difficulties&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Self Bondage Stalker</title>
      <link>/stories/63970/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/63970/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;She was a self bondage addict. She was obsessed with tying herself up as tightly and as cruelly and she could and as often as she could. Every rope, strap and gag was applied just as tight as she could stand, sometimes more than she could stand. She loved every second of her self imposed torments and I loved to watch her do it. She was a gorgeous woman a dream come true for any red blooded heterosexual man. Her shoulder length hair was dark brown not quite black, which contrasted perfectly with her pale white skin and bright green eyes. Large mouth with luscious full lips. She stood about 5&amp;rsquo; 6&amp;quot; in her bare feet with long legs. Large breasts, but not too large, just the right size to bind and torment. Her ass was amazing, nice and round further accentuated by her tiny waist. For years I secretly watched her tie herself up in more and more elaborate ways. She was very creative, very masochistic and cruel to herself. This time I could not resist I decided it was time to make myself known, she was never going to forget this night that was for sure.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Self-Bondage Missions</title>
      <link>/stories/85250/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/85250/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is my first time sharing my self-bondage fantasies with anyone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1, Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I am a 21-year old bisexual girl. I am from a non-American descent and am an international student at my college in America. Throughout my teen years, I had been into bondage. I realized I was into bondage when I saw a movie &amp;ldquo;Serious Moonlight&amp;rdquo; on TV. It was about a couple almost going through divorce but the wife decided to tie up the husband and keep him like that until he loved her back. For some reason, watching the husband duct-taped to a chair while the wife was casually doing her work and talking to the husband as if he wasn&amp;rsquo;t tied up really turned me on.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Selfie (a.k.a. Rogue Tie)</title>
      <link>/stories/67960/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/67960/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;You are always so good at making lists, Becca!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This is a compliment I hear a lot from colleagues and friends alike. Always meant sincere, it does have a backhanded element to it. It labels me organised, bureaucratic, predictable. Rebecca, the Excel Queen. Rebecca, mind you. Not Bec or Beckie. Not Becca, either. But people are so quick with shortening my name. Just as quick as with making list-related compliments.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>She Meets Me Half Way</title>
      <link>/stories/54772/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/54772/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;When you love someone, you meet them halfway. I&amp;rsquo;m a switch and she is my lovely submissive who doesn&amp;rsquo;t have a single naturally dominant bone in her body. We&amp;rsquo;ve discussed ways that my sub needs can be met, and neither of us are offended or opposed to the idea of opening up to others to meet them, but for right now she&amp;rsquo;s able to prove the old adage true. She meets me halfway, and it&amp;rsquo;s absolutely perfect.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Slave Modeling</title>
      <link>/stories/44300/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/44300/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Hay out there is my very first story. Let me apologies ahead of time for any big spelling and grammar errors. A really nice Image that goes with this story can be found on &lt;a href=&#34;http://bit.ly/stBKMT&#34;&gt;Reptileye&amp;rsquo;s DeviantArt&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;_&lt;em&gt;Update (2012/05/23):&lt;/em&gt;* Hay out there this is a remix or extended version of the first story I posted a some time ago. There should be fewer spelling and grammar errors this time around. Thank you for reading. Your comments are welcome.*&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Slave School - A Group XS Story</title>
      <link>/stories/82128/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/82128/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story is a spin-off from one of my favorite stories of all time, Group XS by Dr. Saavik. It&amp;rsquo;s not necessary to have read that beforehand, but you really should&amp;hellip; it&amp;rsquo;s pretty great.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Tucked away beneath a non-descript brick manor off of a sleepy, tree-lined road lies a classroom. Its walls are lined with the letters of the alphabet, sentence diagrams, and maps of the world. The teacher&amp;rsquo;s desk sits at the front, next to a large blackboard. A shiny red apple rests on it next to a stack of papers to grade. Several rows of desks occupy the middle of the room.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Sophia and the Unpleasant Arrangement</title>
      <link>/stories/61394/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/61394/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is the 10th story in the series &amp;ldquo;The Stories of Bound Friends.&amp;rdquo; I will continue to post the series here but I will also be posting extras and updates the moment they are ready on my blog: &lt;a href=&#34;http://jessbbaby.blogspot.com/&#34;&gt;http://jessbbaby.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The next few days after Carl&amp;rsquo;s death were slow and painful for Sophia. She met with a lawyer who said the contract could be passed down just like it could be sold, and so all the same restrictions apply. Which was especially terrible because there was then no one to give her permission to do the things she needed permission to do. And with the contract transferring ownership, she would likely be under extra scrutiny. She couldn&amp;rsquo;t ever be sure she had a moment where she could be free to break the rules without being noticed.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Spoiled Rotten</title>
      <link>/stories/64684/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/64684/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Although featuring several characters from &amp;ldquo;Endurance&amp;rdquo;, this is a stand-alone story. You do not need to read &amp;ldquo;Endurance&amp;rdquo; first, but of course you are very welcome to do so.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;If you are a real painslut, you will be spoiled rotten tonight.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I had made it very clear to Portia that the members of my depraved little circle were committed to the darker ways of BDSM. Marks that would last for weeks were a must-have, safewords a no-go. Portia emitted an affirmative grunt from behind the gag. Any intelligible sound was permitted by the huge rubber orb, and nodding would have interfered with my tightening her head harness.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Ssshotguneagle</title>
      <link>/stories/63536/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/63536/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; The main fictional character is based on a real character. I decided to do this because I felt it would&amp;rsquo;ve been weird to use the real character as the protagonist. Nevertheless, it shouldn&amp;rsquo;t be too hard to see the similarities, that&amp;rsquo;s if you are aware of the real person&amp;rsquo;s account. This is my first attempt at writing, so please feel free to criticize. Harsh or good, it doesn&amp;rsquo;t matter. I will be writing more chapters in the future. This is a story I plan on finishing one day. Thank you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Starting a Life on His Own</title>
      <link>/stories/37664/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/37664/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Summary: A young man leaves home in search of an exciting new life in full bdsm style. Of course he gets more then he expected, all along the lines of &amp;lsquo;be careful what you wish for&amp;rsquo;. The story is in solid fantasy realm; do not try this at home! Things in here go well beyond what would be humanly possible. See my personal information for more on this Fantasy&amp;rsquo; thing v.s. reality&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Susan&#39;s Exercise Bike</title>
      <link>/stories/45280/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/45280/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Here is my next attempt at some erotic fiction, I hope you enjoy it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At long last Susan felt she had perfected her &amp;ldquo;bicycle race&amp;rdquo; self-bondage scenario. She had an exercise bicycle set up in her workout room. It had a long USB cable connecting to her computer on the side of the room.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The bicycle could send over statistics to the computer. Her computer program was going to wait until she had gone &amp;ldquo;ten miles&amp;rdquo; on the bike. At that point, it was going to release the door lock electromagnet she had mounted on the ceiling which held her key up. The key was tied with a long string to a hook directly over the bicycle, so when the magnet released, the key would fall into her reach from atop the bicycle. It doubled as a safety in case of power outage.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Suzy&#39;s Predicament</title>
      <link>/stories/44888/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/44888/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is my first story. If you like it, I will write more.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Suzy was worried, not overly, but was concerned about what she saw as a misunderstanding. She would be able to sort it out; after all the police were only human.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It started a couple of hours ago when Suzy left her office for the drive across town to her boyfriend&amp;rsquo;s apartment. She had taken this trip many times before and knew the short cuts to miss the traffic. This meant going through some children friendly residential areas but at this time of night, there were no children around so her journey was straightforward. The local council had passed laws stating that children had the right to enjoy the residential areas above all others. To Suzy this meant that she had to drive carefully to ensure that she didn&amp;rsquo;t run into any of the groups of kids that might be out.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>T-Immobile</title>
      <link>/stories/51734/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/51734/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Another quickie . I&amp;rsquo;m sure many of us have had similar ideas when watching the commercials. This may read a lot like a re-tread, but it deals with images I enjoy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;And&amp;hellip;CUT!&amp;rdquo; The director called out. &amp;ldquo;That&amp;rsquo;s a wrap people. See you all again on Monday.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Carly Foulkes let out a relieved sigh and climbed off the Kawasaki ZX10 that sat on the stage in front of a large &amp;lsquo;Green Screen&amp;rsquo; used for special effects.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Taken to XS - A Group XS Story</title>
      <link>/stories/85740/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/85740/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is my conclusion to Dr. Saavik&amp;rsquo;s unfinished story &amp;ldquo;Group XS&amp;rdquo; (written with his consent).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Catherine&amp;rsquo;s friends and family have been taken by Group XS, and now she finds herself falling deeper and deeper into their web as they seek to exact their revenge.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Introduction&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;One of my favorite stories of all time is the unfinished &amp;lsquo;Group XS&amp;rsquo; by Saavik. The following story seeks to bring that work to its satisfying conclusion. Here&amp;rsquo;s a summary to help catch you up:&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Teen Fire &amp; Frost The Dream</title>
      <link>/stories/70718/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/70718/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;this story contains bondage, torture and sexual explicit content. The story is for entertainment purposes only. It should only be read by persons of legal age and in areas where this material is legal&amp;hellip; the bottom line ADULTS ONLY&amp;hellip;all persons portrayed in this story are 18 years of age or older&amp;hellip;. this is a work of fiction&amp;hellip;. if you don&amp;rsquo;t understand that seek help.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Teen Fire and Teen Frost are my creations please do not use without my expressed permission&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Teen Fire &amp; Frost vs Torture Bot</title>
      <link>/stories/67708/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/67708/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Kara and Tara Bishop were stepsisters. At 18 years old, 5&#39;4&amp;quot; and 110lbs both are extremely attractive girls with perfect tan skin and playmate looks. Both girls have perfect breasts if not large for girls so petite and pert, toned, heart shaped asses. Both had modeled growing up and had been pursued by some of the top agencies. It amazed most people who found that they were just stepsisters because they look so alike. The girls could very well have been sister&amp;rsquo;s even twins they even shared the same birthday. Both girls are currently freshman college students attending City College on gymnastic scholarships. They lived together in a small apartment off campus. Both of their parents had died in a car accident two years before their transformation. Insurance and the selling of their father&amp;rsquo;s business had left them both financially secure for life. Both girls loved to play beach volleyball and team Bishop was ranked nationally in the sport.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>That Sinking Feeling</title>
      <link>/stories/66686/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/66686/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Emma&amp;rsquo;s attempts to escape from her kidnapper get a bit bogged down.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;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&amp;rsquo;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.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Adventures of Raika Élan ESQ</title>
      <link>/stories/38798/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/38798/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a story of a bondage loving attorney who occasionally becomes a damsel in distress&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;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 &amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1 - Bait&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;DATE: NOVEMBER 10, 2007
TIME: 2:16 AM
LOCATION: DAVIES NATATORIUM&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;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 &amp;ldquo;full Aldridge&amp;rdquo; 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.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Appointment</title>
      <link>/stories/51202/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/51202/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; True story. Ah Cindy, my little imp. If you have read our other stories, You know the deal here. We publish NOTHING that is not real and true.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;OK - this one took me completely by surprise. Good ol&amp;rsquo; Cindy! She put a lot of planning into this one. Oh man, I mean a LOT of planning!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I got home from work about 20 or so minutes before her (which is usually the case) and found an envelope taped to the door leading from the garage to the kitchen with my name on it in her handwriting.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Audition</title>
      <link>/stories/33786/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/33786/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Hi, this is something I have written as a stand alone story. For those of you who have read &amp;ldquo;Roped in for the Weekend&amp;rdquo; I am continuing that story and will be posting more in a few weeks. You can contact me at maid2btied at gmail dot com if you would like to comment on either story. Enjoy, Gabriella.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I check the address on the invitation again as the cab pulls away leaving me standing alone on a deserted street. The invitation was elegant; like one you would get for a wedding, black cursive script on a white card. It read;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Black Dress</title>
      <link>/stories/41094/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/41094/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; The outfit in this story has been on my mind for many years. I&amp;rsquo;m not sure if I will continue this stroy-line or not, so please offer constructive crtitisism if you enjoyed it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;_&lt;em&gt;Update (09/11/01):&lt;/em&gt;* Thank you all for the wonderful feedback and support. Knowing that my fantasies are being read and appreciated certainly makes it more fun to write them down.*&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;m not a huge fan of garage sales, but once in awhile I will let my friend drag me to a few. A couple summers ago we had wandered further from home than usual when we found a sale at one of those U-store-it places. While Alicia wandered through the stacks of mismatched dishes and old books I spotted a box with a few leather belts dangling from it. I had never hidden anything from her so I wasn&amp;rsquo;t surprised when she snickered. &amp;ldquo;Find something interesting?&amp;rdquo; she asked in her best coy voice. Actually I had. The box contained several plain black straps, too short and too wide to be belts. Right away I noticed that they had holes punched in them almost all the way up to the buckle. They looked old, but in good shape, so I took the entire box over to the folding table where the two ladies attending the sale sat in the shade. Alicia rolled her eyes as I asked how much they wanted for the whole box full. &amp;ldquo;Ten bucks and you can keep the box&amp;rdquo; replied the younger of the pair. Alicia stage whispered over my shoulder as I took two fives from my wallet &amp;ldquo;can you wait until you get home to use them Em?&amp;rdquo; The young woman grinned at us but the older lady pretended not to hear.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Bondage Club</title>
      <link>/stories/56914/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/56914/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; A teen goes looking for her missing older sister in a bondage club and allows herself to be enslaved by the Mistress of the club&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Kendall hesitantly walked in through the front door to the club passing into a foyer. The walls on each side of the hallway were decorated with murals of nude woman bound in different positions with all types of materials. Some in leather, some in ropes, some in metal or wood with others bound in combinations of several different materials. All looked restrictive and some even painful.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Call of the Cuffs</title>
      <link>/stories/66672/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/66672/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Charlotte finds the attraction of the handcuffs too tempting to resist.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maybe she should have checked the whereabouts of the keys first!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Charlotte found it difficult to avert her eyes from the handcuffs. Not one, not two, but three pairs of seemingly identical shiny metal shackles, just sitting there on top of the bookcase. Each bracelet lay open and welcoming. It was almost as if they were trying to entice her; calling out to her:&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Deviant of the Dark Ages</title>
      <link>/stories/61982/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/61982/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; The premise: A dark, sinister tale of harsh injustice and vengeance in the medieval era. Loyalties will be tested, limits will be pushed, and lechery will run rampant - nothing is sacred in this supernatural tale of sexual depravity.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prologue: Plunged Into Pain&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A young woman swayed gently through the dank air of the cold dungeon cell. She was suspended by her ankles above a large clear cistern, her bare feet spread and locked against the cold stone ceiling by thick chains and heavy shackles. Her long crimson hair dangled just above the glistening pool, though it was already damp from the moist subterranean air around her. She could see her reflection in the glassy surface below: a pale girl stared back, her emerald-green eyes sparkling with unshed tears, her countenance shivering with apprehension yet wearing the stoic expression of one who refused to give in to her fear. The only light in the dim cell came from two wall-mounted candles whose flames cast a soft glow across the girl&amp;rsquo;s naked form. Her chiselled figure and shapely curves taunted her, serving as unwelcome reminders of a time long past - a time when she would do the teasing and her body was revered as divine, not strung up like some hunk of meat.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Extended Contract</title>
      <link>/stories/61786/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/61786/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; It&amp;rsquo;s been a few years since I&amp;rsquo;ve written (completed) a story. I&amp;rsquo;ve had this one bouncing in my head for months and decided to finally do it. I&amp;rsquo;d love to hear your feedback!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jill sat at her makeshift terminal debugging a seemingly endless stream of code. Most of the code wasn&amp;rsquo;t hers so that didn&amp;rsquo;t help much despite the documentation. Her caffeine driven sleep deprived marathons were making even small tasks take excessively long but she refused to rest.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Final Test</title>
      <link>/stories/59406/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/59406/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Possibly not as brutal or non consensual as some previous feedback has suggested is preferred on this site but hopefully some of you will like it none-the-less. This story is all about consensual so if you are looking for rape/kidnapping/forced enslavement then don&amp;rsquo;t waste your time on this. If you like tight bondage, consensual BDSM and realistic predicaments then please read on and enjoy&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As the loop tighten it was only the gag that stopped her fully voicing the sharp pain that shot through her trapped nipple. The gag in question was more demanding than any other Jenna had experienced - the larger than normal ring gag took effort to force behind her teeth, the leather strap around her head a formality as she would not be able to dislodge her oral intruder without her hands, and they were soon to be denied her. To make the gag more effective her tongue was pulled through the ring and held in place by a 6&amp;quot; stick top and bottom, joined each end by cable ties pulled tight enough to stop any chance of her escaping. Apart from drool, the only thing that was coming out of her mouth was unintelligible mumbles - nothing to disturb the neighbours.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Foundation Chronicles: The Convention</title>
      <link>/stories/86398/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/86398/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; The Foundation holds it&amp;rsquo;s yearly convention for it&amp;rsquo;s clients. What follows is a week of sadism and debauchery.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Evan barely managed to suppress a moan as the object slave&amp;rsquo;s moist lips slid over his hard cock. Her tongue caressing his frenulum as his cock passed through her warm mouth. He tilted his head back as she made the return trip back to his tip and then down again.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Game</title>
      <link>/stories/32666/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/32666/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He hadn&amp;rsquo;t really wanted to play this new game and anyway the two women were being very secretive as to what it really involved. Brad was sitting in the back of the car with Emma and Victoria in the front. Both women were in their mid-twenties, both slim and attractive and both in the aerobics class that Brad took each Friday evening. Victoria was wearing a pair of well fitting blue jeans and blouse; Emma was more casual in tight denim shorts and a t-shirt. Having had no plans for that evening, Brad agreed to spend the evening with them.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Impalement of Mistress Simone</title>
      <link>/stories/47996/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/47996/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Mistress Simone is a real person and this is a fantasy she has. The Author originally wrote this story for her and is now publishing it to fulfill her fantasy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you liked this story or have any feedback please write to me at: &lt;a href=&#34;https://www.torquemaster02@hotmail.com&#34;&gt;www.torquemaster02@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt; I enjoy the feedback and it helps to make me a better writer. I hope you enjoyed reading my work as much as I did writing it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Investigation of Lieber Investments</title>
      <link>/stories/83710/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/83710/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; I was going to finish this story before submitting it, but I won&amp;rsquo;t have much chance to write in the next couple weeks and if I lose momentum after that it may be a long time coming. Feel free to email me with any feedback, or leave a comment.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;This story and the characters and places therein are 100% fictional. Please don&amp;rsquo;t take this as an endorsement in any way of the actions of any character. This material is intended only for getting off and should be kept completely divorced from reality.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Investigation of Lieber Investments</title>
      <link>/stories/84326/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/84326/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; ((This note is for the publisher and should not be published with the story: Thank you for publishing the first chapters of this story. I have made some edits, as well as writing to the ending, so I am submitting the entire story here. Also, the text breaks which were marked with five dashes were left out when it was published, which makes the changes between scenes confusing. They are now signified by the words TEXT BREAK, which you can find-and-replace into whatever formatting is appropriate for the site. Thanks again!))&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Locking Jumpsuit Story</title>
      <link>/stories/76640/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/76640/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; While this is a work of fiction, it is rooted in fact. There are jumpsuits designed for people who tend to undress at inappropriate times. There are prison jumpsuits that lock on. There are hospitals and psychiatric units attempting to give dementia patients a better outcome by incorporating new ideas into their treatment plans. I am not attempting to make fun of anyone who has dementia or any one of the hundreds of variations of the disease, or any other psychiatric disorder. I have great empathy for those individuals and their families who struggle every day to maintain some semblance of normality. Additionally, it is well known that people who are incarcerated for long periods of time are at increased risk of dementia and Alzheimers. I have no idea if people in the courts are considering anything like this to help prisoners with dementia, but I hope programs in place are actually working. This is a work of fiction. Please do not think of it as anything but fiction.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Loving Wife</title>
      <link>/stories/48094/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/48094/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a fairly intense femdom story, with a blend of sensuality and extreme cruelty.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;So far it consists of 4 chapters. I&amp;rsquo;m debating how to finish it off in perhaps 1 or 2 more chapters. If you&amp;rsquo;ve feedback feel free to email it to me or find me via my blog at &lt;a href=&#34;http://www.femdom-resource.com/&#34;&gt;http://www.femdom-resource.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1 - Prolog&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My wife says I&amp;rsquo;m the luckiest man alive. If I&amp;rsquo;m ever feeling down or unhappy she&amp;rsquo;ll remind me that our relationship is one in a million and that it was so lucky that we found one another. She&amp;rsquo;ll say &amp;ldquo;How many other husbands get the attention I give to you? How many other husbands are loved as much as you?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The MRI</title>
      <link>/stories/49396/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/49396/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Thanks as always to Bethany (handcuffgirl) for her edits and suggestions.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Michelle got up early to drive herself to the hospital for her scheduled test. She was going in for a newly developed MRI procedure that was hopefully going to shed some light on her condition. For almost a year, small patches of numbness had been forming on her skin, sometimes accompanied by tingling or minor pain. They could appear anywhere on her body, would last from five to ten days, then would simply disappear.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Office Horse</title>
      <link>/stories/80476/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/80476/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;We run a tight ship here, Ms Dremmer,&amp;rdquo; the bald department head lectured from the front, and in the same pace he was storming along the corridor. Mr Wicklebimm couldn&amp;rsquo;t be bothered to hold any door open for the young woman struggling to keep up.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Do not think of your first day at work as a &lt;em&gt;first day&lt;/em&gt;, but as &lt;em&gt;work&lt;/em&gt;. There is no need for idleness just because your notepad still has all its sheets blank.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Real Deal</title>
      <link>/stories/82156/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/82156/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; I know lots of authors say this, and no one ever believes them, but this is a (mostly) accurate account of a real scene I recently did. You can believe me or not, that doesn&amp;rsquo;t change the fact that it really happened.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Breathe in, breathe out - &lt;em&gt;ninety-six.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Breathe in, breathe out - &lt;em&gt;ninety-seven.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Breathe in, breathe out - &lt;em&gt;ninety-eight.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Breathe in, breathe out - &lt;em&gt;oh, god, please. Ninety-nine.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Robbery of Croft Manor</title>
      <link>/stories/26968/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/26968/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Please note that this story is pure fiction, not even considering the following fictional characters separate stories. The characters featured in this fan-fiction rights belong to their respected owners (Marvel &amp;amp; Eidos) I do not own these rights. Also, I would like to thanks Cropsncuffs for allowing me to use his story as a inspiration-source.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;It must be here, It can&amp;rsquo;t be anywhere else&amp;rdquo; Catwoman thought as she jumped off the fence surrounding the Croft Manor. &amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;ve checked all the museums she normally donates to, but none of them have it!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Track</title>
      <link>/stories/78908/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/78908/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; A first posting from me, and obviously incomplete. A lot of fun elements I&amp;rsquo;d love to have in the future, and some foreshadowing of things to come.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Andy fell in love with the property the very first time he saw it. The house was nice enough, an old sprawling rancher with oddly shaped rooms and hallways all over. The house itself was only a portion of the reason that he fell in love with the property however. The house was completely isolated from the rest of his neighbors, the closest one being several miles away. There was also a well built barbed wire fence around the entire perimeter of the rolling acres. He wanted the isolation for planned project, and he knew that there was very little chance of anyone stumbling across him.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Visit</title>
      <link>/stories/80504/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/80504/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Going to a professional Dominatrix the first time can be stressful! In this case, the result is no where near the expectations of the client. Expect the unexpected as our &amp;lsquo;hero&amp;rsquo; goes down in flames and joins a scene that is way beyond his limits&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A tale of fear and unwilling servitude&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Graham could feel his heart in his mouth. As he walked the street in Hamburg people passed him on their everyday business. Bags in hand, chatting, only concerned with their own thoughts while every step that he took, took him closer to a fate that he had decided for himself. Volunteered for, signed up for, an experience that he wanted so desperately, but had never dared to test&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Weekend</title>
      <link>/stories/41808/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/41808/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; It&amp;rsquo;s been a long time, so please be gentle. :-)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I could barely keep from running as I made my way from the front desk up to my dorm room. The package I had been waiting for had finally arrived. This wasn&amp;rsquo;t just any package; it contained what I needed to take things to the next level. I was walking very briskly, almost at a slow run, weaving my way down the hall and up the stairs. The plain brown wrapping paper hid from the world what was inside; if they only knew. I could barely contain my excitement as I inserted my key and opened the door to my dorm room. &amp;ldquo;Hey Sam&amp;rdquo; I said trying to hide the disappointment in my voice when I saw my roommate sitting at his desk. Sam and I shared a small room that pretty much only consisted of two beds, two desks, and a small table in one corner with a TV on it. We didn&amp;rsquo;t even have a bathroom, just a sink. There was a communal bathroom and shower set down the hall. So the privacy I needed to check out my new toy was nowhere to be had. I was closing the door behind me thinking about where I could find some privacy when the door swung back in at me quickly. &amp;ldquo;Hey Bill, you almost ran me over back there in the hall! What&amp;rsquo;s the big rush?&amp;rdquo; It was Amy; Sam&amp;rsquo;s girlfriend.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Weekend</title>
      <link>/stories/74876/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/74876/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a story I started telling someone about a fantasy of theirs. It mixes a few different scenes into one. I started writing one night and just kept working on it. It was enjoyable to write and hopefully as enjoyable to read.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Mary was a graduate student studying biology and worked in a local lab researching different species of bugs collected from around the world. She was single and despite a few online dates and random blind dates through friends, she was looking for something deeper in her life. Mary was a professional girl and at 25 she knew what she liked. She had a collection of toys including vibrators, nipple clamps, butt plugs, and gags. She just didn&amp;rsquo;t have someone to play with. She knew she needed to learn more about herself as well. She was too shy though to open up. She never has trouble getting dates and is quite attractive. Standing 5&#39;6&amp;quot; with reddish brown hair, green eyes, thick lips, and cute dimples and freckles that she knew would bring a man to his knees when she smiled. She had C cup breasts that matched her grade A ass she worked so hard for at the gym. She had gained a few pounds to her athletic frame, which was due to not playing soccer as much as she did in college but was still in great shape.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Total Darkness</title>
      <link>/stories/81134/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/81134/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; In this sequel to Into Darkness, Tiffany finds herself in a slave training facility in the company of former friends and new enemies.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1: A Shocking Confession&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Tiffany grunted as the box she was crammed into fell hard to the floor. She couldn&amp;rsquo;t tell how long she had been trapped within the cramped space, certainly half a day at least. The crushingly tight corset around her waist restricted her breathing. And the enormous dildo rammed in her pussy didn&amp;rsquo;t help either. Within the tiny box she could hardly move at all, which was unfortunate since a few hours earlier she found that she could no longer hold her bladder. She had been laying in a pool of piss ever since.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Try Before You Buy</title>
      <link>/stories/77746/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/77746/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;Try before you buy:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;About six weeks ago I went into the local custom leather shop with some photos that I had downloaded of the Internet to order a pair of custom made bondage mittens. The sales area of the shop was small but was jam packed with bondage gear that was made in the back of the store. In addition to the store&amp;rsquo;s stock, they also took custom orders. Their web site had photos of their standard products that were sold on the floor and a section where customers modeled their custom orders.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Trying to Copy</title>
      <link>/stories/44650/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/44650/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Thanks to Gamma for inspiration.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He stood balanced, completely focused on -and frustrated by - his predicament. What made the sexual and physical torture worse, somehow, was the fact that he had put himself in this situation by his own hand, after careful planning. He had already had two huge orgasms that had shaken his body, and he was beginning to get physically exhausted as well as sexually drained. As another shock hit his testicles he moaned loudly, sweating, and leaned back again, realizing that his careful planning was to blame. Tugging on his release for what seemed like the millionth time, he groaned deeply when he realized that there was still no give in the cord. Let&amp;rsquo;s back up to the beginning of this adventure.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Uneasy Predicament</title>
      <link>/stories/63242/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/63242/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She wakes up, slowly regaining consciousness, feeling like she had a long hard night that made her sleep until the afternoon.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Right away she feels the overwhelming pressure from inside of her. The pressure is so high it doesn&amp;rsquo;t remind her of anything she&amp;rsquo;d ever felt before, almost painful but most of all like she is going to burst. Also she feels very hot but there&amp;rsquo;s no sweaty feeling or wet clothing on her skin. She pulls off the covers, trying to turn the heat down.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Unexpected Addition</title>
      <link>/stories/44468/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/44468/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story is largely real. It is compressed and addended with a few of my GF/BFF/Mistress/Slave&amp;rsquo;s (flavor of the week? Love of my life. You choose the acronym based on who is licking the boot.) latest fantasy/plans. Enjoy, and do email me if you&amp;rsquo;ve got something you&amp;rsquo;d think we should try.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Her eyes wide with a mix of sarcastic humor, surprise and perhaps a little disgust &amp;ldquo;&amp;hellip;just know this, there is no fucking way that thing is going inside me.&amp;rdquo; Call it famous first words? A year later, her comment on my PA is a funny memory. Mel, my Mistress and switch, is getting me read for our little party. But really brief background is in order.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Vacation From Manhood</title>
      <link>/stories/55122/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/55122/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story is based on the vacation I wish I could take. Once Shelly gets home, things really change, but that&amp;rsquo;s for follow-up chapters!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It finally happened; my wife left me &amp;ndash; on vacation &amp;ndash; but not before she took everything I owned and put it all in storage. Well, not everything perhaps, but everything anyone would normally associate with being a man. Of course I agreed to it. I even helped pack all my male clothing and left nothing for an emergency because this was something I had wanted for a long time.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Violet Lovedoll 2</title>
      <link>/stories/85390/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/85390/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Foreword: this is the sequel of Violet Lovedoll, where a girl was kidnapped, modified, and trained into a plaything for the wealthy elite, only to fall into the hands of a buyer who genuinely cared for her.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;As always, this is a work of pure fantasy. It is not meant to be &amp;lsquo;proper BDSM&amp;rsquo;, even if I enjoy discussing psychological elements. If you take issues with that, I&amp;rsquo;d consider stopping here.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Vive La Difference</title>
      <link>/stories/72006/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/72006/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story is written as a stand-alone work. I labeled it &amp;ldquo;Part I&amp;rdquo; because there is room to add more.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;In addition to the tags that are available, other tags might also be appropriate: tease and denial,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;interracial, and CFNM (Clothed Female, Naked Male).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Should there ever be a Part II, I envision additional tags, many of which are alluded to in Part I but not actively incorporated in the story: chastity, games, tickling, toys, slavery, suspension, and watersports.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>When The Tables Turn: A Revenge Story</title>
      <link>/stories/85348/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/85348/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The car&amp;rsquo;s engine went quiet and its lights shut off, plunging the small town street into silence and darkness. Detective Jessica Falwell took a deep sigh and composed herself, this was a night for which she&amp;rsquo;d prepared a long time. Opening the glove compartment, she retrieved her pistol and checked the magazine, knowing full well it didn&amp;rsquo;t magically empty on the drive over here. The car door opened and let in the cool night air, and she placed the pistol in her shoulder holster and grabbed the duffel bag from the passenger seat.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>When The Tables Turn: A Revenge Story</title>
      <link>/stories/85516/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/85516/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; The day after submitting Part 1 I was compelled to complete the story.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The car&amp;rsquo;s engine went quiet and its lights shut off, plunging the small town street into silence and darkness. Detective Jessica Falwell took a deep sigh and composed herself, this was a night for which she&amp;rsquo;d prepared a long time. Opening the glove compartment, she retrieved her pistol and checked the magazine, knowing full well it didn&amp;rsquo;t magically empty on the drive over here. The car door opened and let in the cool night air, and she placed the pistol in her shoulder holster and grabbed the duffel bag from the passenger seat.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>When The Tables Turn: A Revenge Story</title>
      <link>/stories/85824/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>/stories/85824/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; Part 1 was submitted in November, the rest has been completed and previous parts have been edited for fuller effect.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The car&amp;rsquo;s engine went quiet and its lights shut off, plunging the small town street into silence and darkness. Detective Jessica Falwell took a deep sigh and composed herself, this was a night for which she&amp;rsquo;d prepared a long time. Opening the glove compartment, she retrieved her pistol and checked the magazine, knowing full well it didn&amp;rsquo;t magically empty on the drive over here. The car door opened and let in the cool night air, and she placed the pistol in her shoulder holster and grabbed the duffel bag from the passenger seat.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
  </channel>
</rss>
