Slavery

It had taken some months, but I had finally narrowed the choices to just three. Number three-her name is Jane-waited quietly in the small waiting room outside, as I watched her through the wall-mounted camera. “So far, so good,” I thought. No fidgeting, no little noises even though her restraints must be becoming painful. She had arrived at the small and secluded temporary rental I had selected for anonymity and for proximity to the city center where most of my slave-candidates seemed to come from. She had been picked up outside a coffee shop by a limo service and brought to the unobtrusive front door of the rental house on a pleasant quiet street. She had been told to ring the bell and then enter directly, which she did without hesitation. Once she entered, I used the microphone from a separate room to tell her to shut the door firmly, and turn the lock. I looked her over again. A very, very attractive lady, early 30’s, tastefully dressed, carrying a small bag. Nice make up and dark hair long to her shoulders. Everything very clean, classy, and tasteful. I felt just the tip of desire as I looked her over. About 5'7, full but not sloppy breasts, well shaped legs with well exercised calves helped by 3 inch high heels. My kind of woman, which is to say my kind of submissive. ...

Author's Note: Trying something a little different in this one. Experimenting with dialogue. Another story of non-consensual activities so please do not read if you don’t like. Like my other stories, it will undoubtedly be a bit slow. Chapter One I seated myself opposite her, sinking slowly down into the deeply cushioned velvet luxury of the armchair she had indicated. The smiling hall porter who’d accompanied me silently placed the tray he was carrying onto the small glass-topped table between us, poured two cups from the coffee pot and departed closing the door behind him without a sound. ...

Author's Note: I was going to finish this story before submitting it, but I won’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. This story and the characters and places therein are 100% fictional. Please don’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. ...

Author's Note: ((This note is for the publisher and should not be published with the story: Thank you for publishing the first chapters of this story.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!)) ...

Author's Note: I do not condone slavery this story all comes from a fantasy in my head. Karen and her sister Laura were going on holiday to Mexico. They both worked as nurses and shared a flat together. They didn’t have a lot of friends and were happy with each other’s company. Karen was the older of the two at 26 and was a well-built brunette while Laura at 18 was a petite blonde. Karen usually made all the decisions. The two sisters had stopped at a hotel for the night before driving to the airport the next morning. It was quite run down and the clerk made the sisters uneasy. Karen was dressed in jeans and a tank top and Laura was in a short dress. ...

Karen was a pretty girl of 24 slender build with large breasts and a firm round ass. Her hair was shiny golden natural blonde. She lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment. Working for a museum as a secretary she barely made enough to survive. One day while cataloging some newly arrived artifacts from India she discovered a very interesting bottle. She began cleaning the bottle with a rag when smoke started spraying from the top. Concerned she set the bottle on the table and stepped back. ...

Author's Note: I’ve decided to post the first three chapters of the Kennel Master as I’m pretty happy with them and I want to test to water a little. Like other stories I’m working on, it’s extreme and very dark in flavour; none of the main characters are very likeable and what goes on is uncompromising, brutal and very non-consensual. So, as usual, the standard words of warning are: do not read it if that isn’t something you don’t like to read about it. Also, if you do, please do not try anything written here at home as that would mean you’re in need of help and rapid, lengthy incarceration. Another note is that, despite the length of the story, there isn’t much of a plot - it’s just a description of a typical day in the life of the main protagonist. But it may eventually serve to set the scene for other stories set against the same background. We’ll have to see. Otherwise, I’d love to hear what you think, so please feel free to drop me a line at [email protected], write a review or whatever. If folks like this, I’ll post more - several chapters are already written.Thanks for reading this far at least! ...

I stir as the sun rises, shining through the slightly parted curtains of our bedroom. Feeling your tender bottom pressed against mine in the bed we share I smile knowing you didn’t get up through the night. I smile as I roll over and look at your body held firmly by the heavy rubber cat suit that you were shoehorned into the night before. Knowing you probably haven’t slept much I stroke your thigh with my hand as you lay there and I hear you moan. I run my hand between your thighs and feel a slight vibration, smiling to myself knowing you had no sleep at all. I look to your pretty face and see it hidden from my view by a heavy rubber hood with no eyes, remembering I pushed a large gag into your mouth before I locked the hood around your head so you wouldn’t disturb my rest. The collar around your neck locked over the collar of the hood so making it non removable. I run my hands up your shoulders feeling how tightly the strong leather arm binder has pulled them together at the back, and also feeling for the strap that pulled your bound feet in the highest heels imaginable up to your wrists securing you in place for the night. I feel you squirm slightly as what must be a very constrained orgasm rides through you as you can barely breathe. The corset you have on under the suit makes your breathing short and sweet and more than once through the night you have been on the verge of losing consciousness. Realising I am awake you try to moan through your gag and writhe through your bonds to be close to me and hold me but the strain finally takes your breath and your breath and reality leaves you. ...

Author's Note: The Renaissance Faire never really closes… Prologue The Renaissance Faire has always been a refuge for freaks and weirdos. A safe place for the socially awkward and misunderstood. For the last 3 years, however, Notts’ Renaissance Faire in Georgia has expanded its demographic to a new clientele. One with incredibly deep wallets and the need for total and complete anonymity. But before we get into that, let me start with a bit of history. My name is Ali Rook. Ali’s short for Alison. Just your average, pretty, slender, freckled, 26 year-old redhead who happens to run a Renaissance Faire. Of course, “average”, by Ren. Faire standards, is antonymous with the conventional definition of the word “average”. Most average 26 year-old girls don’t inherit multi-million dollar corporations from their extended family members. ...

Part 1 Sandra was a girl who was full of life, never a dull moment but not always at 100 miles an hour. She could party with the best yes but she also liked to push the temperature up in the bedroom as well. I first met Sandra when I booked a dental appointment. I was having some pain with a tooth so thought I would go and get a quick filling and that would be that. I got a late appointment due to a cancellation but when my name was called I went through to the surgery expecting Mr Wilson to be waiting but instead there was Sandra. She looked very sexy in her ‘scrubs’ like outfit and after she had introduced herself and her assistant Liz, I climbed into the chair for my examination. Sandra had short dark hair and ample breasts. She looked as though she visited the gym on a regular basis and as you would expect she had a take me to bed smile, with just perfect film star teeth. ...