Slavery

Author's Note: This is my first attempt to tell my story. There is more to come if anyone is interested. Chapter 1 INITIATION It was a long walk home after a night out. It wasn’t late, just after eleven o’clock. It was a still night, perfect for walking. It is a lonely stretch so I was on my own, just the occasional car passing. I always feel safe, I have done this walk so many times. My mind was wandering as it always does, I feel free when I walk, free to allow my mind to drift. ...

This story began a few months ago, when Steve and Janet moved into their new house after Steve got a big promotion at work and was asked to relocate. They made an interesting couple: Janet was a beautiful and submissive housewife, and Steve was the typical workaholic, always too busy to pay attention to his wife’s needs. Next door lived Clara, a 21-year-old who had taken a particular interest in Janet’s submissiveness. She was the only daughter of a very wealthy family, but her parents worked most of the day and had little time to check on their daughter. ...

Alex Summers was in a good mood. The phone call that he had just made would ensure that he could now treat himself to a new car and perhaps a foreign holiday. He was long overdue for a bit of R and R, he mused as he sipped his coffee and made his way through the kitchen towards the connecting door that lead to his garage. The garage was large by such standards. Three large double doors dominated one entire wall. Alex admired his cars as he strolled through the cavernous interior. He ran his fingers lovingly over the bodywork of his silver DB4. Next, he stopped to admire the next car in his collection. A dark green Mercedes sports car that had a bold white stripe running from bonnet to boot over the top of the vehicle and sporting a number four, within a white circle, on the bonnet and doors. This car had won the 1978 Le Mans and brought a smile to his face as he remembered the fierce bidding that had secured him the car. ...

The large box certainly looked out of place. Sure, it was sitting on the stairs where the mailman usually left packages. And sure, it had a clear address label on its top. But it didn’t look like any package Erin had ever received before. The 2-foot wide box was shaped like a cube and was jet black, with no apparent flaps or openings. The box did have her name clearly printed on the top: Erin Feston, 119 Palm Blvd, and so the young woman who had just gotten home from work bent over to pick it up. The box was made of some hard plastic material and was heavier than Erin expected. She was able to get it up and into her house, wondering who on earth could have sent her such a box. ...

Beth stared drunkenly at the claustrophobic cell she was imprisoned within, and for the thousandth time since awakening she wondered how she had arrived at this point in her life. The cell was only about 6 feet by 6 feet in length and width, and about twice that in height. A dingy yellow light bulb glowed constantly from behind a metal wire guard in the center of the ceiling, casting everything into a dim yellowish light with deep shadows. ...

Author's Note: Synopsis: Two Les lovers and their shady druggy companion spend a weekend of S&M fun in a secluded retreat. And are set upon by sadistic Les bikers. Part 1 Pulling into the Safeway parking lot, I could barely contain my excitement. It was Friday morning and the start of a long weekend of camping and partying. As I entered the store I made my way to the liquor section and grabbed two large bottles of Patrone tequila and two large bottles of Crown Royal. Several bags of ice, some sodas and several gallons of bottled water rounded out my purchases. ...

Part 1 Darlene and Pauline had been best friends since they were kids. They were playing one day, Darlene made a joke about how their names rhymed, and they immediately hit it off. They were very different. Darlene was a beautiful girl with big blue eyes, blonde hair, and smooth, satin skin while Pauline was “plain” with moose brown hair and needed to wear nerdy glasses. The differences grew as they did. Darlene grew into a hotty with the kind perfect body that men drooled over and masturbated to. Poor Darlene reached a certain size and stopped growing. “Preteen Pauline” was her nickname in high school, while her best friend was called “Drop Dead Sexy Darlene”, or “Darl” or “Darly” as she sometimes like to be called. ...

Author's Note: This is my first erotic story. Judging from the typical content on this website it will be rather extreme for most readers. The character of Bianca has obviously been inspired by the most beautiful fetish model of my lifetime. All the other events and details simply represent my ultimate fantasy if I was in fact so lucky to actually be Bianca, or her new Mistress. Please feel free to criticize my work, as I am certainly not the most skilled writer in the world. Enjoy!! ...

Author's Note: This story is a little gentler than some of my prior efforts, though the domination by women is just as extreme; total control and ownership is the key; Permanent bondage of males in the progress of a female dominated world is its essence. A Red Kite thought about alighting in a tree close to the equestrian centre, but the commotion below ensured it soared away to more peaceful climes. In the paddock below, a strutting redheaded woman barked her commands at the young charges who circled on horseback, with the aim of learning horsemanship. Elaine Calder was a very shapely woman, assertive and not to be trifled with; she was very much in command at the centre, which due very much to her, was as popular with male students both old and young, as well as the usual pony-mad female fraternity. ...

Author's Note: Yet another chapter added to this dark story. As before I must emphasize that this is purely a work of fiction. It would not be nice to do this to another person in reality. So don’t do it. I Hannah Gehringer was the first person in my life - and, until today, possibly the *only* person in my life - whom I hated so much that I wanted her dead. After what she had done to Thomas, after it sank in that she had destroyed his life, I saw her face in every dream I had. I became obsessed. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about her, from staring at her on college campus whenever she passed me, from parking my old, shabby VW Polo in front of her student’s home at nights. I would sit in the shadows, watch her window and try to collect enough courage to climb out of my car and knock at her door and, when she eventually opened, beat her up. ...