Snuff on Utopia Stories Library

A Dangerous Family Game

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

The Game Players:

Carina, or Carrie, that’s me – age 18, height 5 foot 11 inches, weight 165 pounds, measurements, 42D bust/30 waist/42 hips.

Cassandra, my mother – age 40, height 5 foot 11 inches, weight 160 pounds. Measurements, 40C bust/32 waist/40 hips.

Janine, my grandmother, Cassandra’s Mother – age 59, height 5 foot 10 inches, weight 170 pounds, measurements, 42D bust/34 waist/44 hips.

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.

Alice's Secret Playground

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: I hope you like the story. I’ve only just developed an interest in writing such stories, so I’m a novice. I’d really like people to give me feedback and tell me what they think. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Alice closed the door behind her, hung her coat on the coat peg in the hall and then walked through into the lounge where she sank into the sofa and kicked off her shoes. At last, the working week was over and she could relax for the weekend. She enjoyed her work as a freelance business consultant, but it was always nice to get to Friday evening and the prospect of a weekend off.

Aliens

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 1: The Barbeque

I was surrounded by dozens of aliens. I could tell they were aliens by the shape of their heads and by their language. I felt very nervous, almost claustrophobic, even though we were at an outdoor barbeque. I edged closer to my protector. One of the male aliens spoke to me, but I couldn’t understand him. I had been instructed not to upset them, so I smiled and nodded as if I agreed with him.

Angelina

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

This is how it felt to be Angela.

You were the center of his life, the sunshine in his universe. You were what he lived for. For you, his love and care had no end.

And for you, the feelings were the same. You felt so loyal, so loving to your spouse, the man you had shared your life with for the past six years. Your love was an endless spring that would never dry up.

Dispatchment Week

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: In a female dominated world, a male is sentenced to hang after a week of punishments.

Chapter 1

The women cheered as he was led from the court on all fours, leashed and naked, whipped as he went by his smiling captors eager to ensure his first punishment. The women stood to applaud the judge, now standing, in her black silk gown; the haughty woman’s nipples erect with the excitement of the day, she bowed smiling, still wearing the black silk cap with which she had heralded the death sentence. She was sticky with arousal and would masturbate long and hard as she reminisced on the look on the male’s face as sentence was passed, passed by her, indulgent in her supreme power over the male whom she knew would have gained a healthy erection on hearing her decide his fate. Whether involuntary or not ,the hapless male knew he would be made to be erect many times over the next week before his member would inevitably be taken as a trophy on the final day. As was her privilege in her position amongst the women who ruled her world, she would receive the first copy of justice being served upon the male, recorded throughout his Dispatchment Week, approved by her, then sold to the masses of eager women; the misery, humiliation and despatch of the male helping to boost the economy of this world of feminine superiority.

Game of a Lifetime

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

It all started many years ago. When I first met Steve, it was not exactly love at first sight. In fact, for the better part of our time together at Georgetown, we barely spoke. Not that there wasn’t some interest and even the occasional spark, but I was way out of his league. And with my reputation to protect, there was no way I was going to date him.

Before Steve and I ever met, I had a career as a professional ballet dancer with the New York City Ballet. I looked the part – 5’6” tall, 110 lbs, long blond hair, and endless legs. On top of it, I could do splits any time of day, and do pirouettes on my toes. My dating pool was largely the basketball team and on a bad day the football team. Steve was in neither – not even close.

Girls Gone Kinky

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

“Girls Gone Kinky” the radio announcer said.

“Tomorrow night at the Johnson warehouse, ‘Girls gone Kinky’ will be shooting their Halloween edition. Free admission to girls in costumes. Door open at 6:00 Happy hour all night long. Cash awards to the lucky girls chosen to be in the video.”

Sue turned off the car radio and thought about attending the out of season event. It was after all spring break weekend and she had not done anything wild all week or even semester. She felt it was time she cut loose. Halloween in March sounded like the perfect event and a shot at some money wouldn’t be all bad either.

Imprisoned

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: Please post a comment to tell me what you thought. I enjoyed writing this.

I’d saved up enough to go on holiday alone. I never got time alone so this holiday was a dream come true. It was a tropical island in South America. The flight there was great as I was able to travel first class. I’d spent 3 weeks shopping, sunbathing and sightseeing and all too soon it was coming to an end. One thing that intrigued me were the female chain gangs. They wore black and white striped dresses and iron cuffs on their ankles, wrists and necks. They were chained together by their collars. They also had ball gags in their mouths. They were sweeping a pavement and the guard was watching with a whip in his hand. I imagined what it would be like to be in that position. I packed my bags and got a taxi to the airport. The driver was pleasant and offered me some food to take on the plane. Not thinking how naïve I was being I said thank you and put the sweets in my bag. I checked in then later put my hand luggage bag on the x-ray machine. My heart stopped when it didn’t come out the other side. The woman at the scanner motioned over two security guards who without a word took my bag and me to a back room. I was put in a chair and handcuffed to it. I was sweating and hyperventilating absolutely terrified. One of the men took out the sweets the taxi driver gave me. ‘Stupid idiot!’ I thought to myself. It was just a white ppaper bag which I hadn’t even looked in.

Jesse In Jeopardy

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: Hi Folks, previously posted on another site under my alternate Wingco name. Starts slowly but builds to a…. Regards, Shelley xxx

Part 1

It was very stormy as the boat crossed towards the Western Isles. On board Jesse Haig was looking forward to a month cycling and camping the length of the Scottish islands. A stunning young woman of twenty-two years old, almost Viking in appearance. Think of Hagar’s daughter and you’d get the idea. Thick wavy golden blonde hair, long legs and an athletic body to die for and she’d attracted her fair share of attention since she’d blossomed. Even today while booking her ticket the seller had almost drooled over her. Still a body like hers was a rare sight up here and he’d only been human after all.

Julie's Mummification

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Part I

Julie, Diana and Wanda shared a house. Diana and Wanda had finished their graduate degrees. Julie was just about to finish her MA in literature. She was looking forward to having the summer off to rest and relax before starting her job at a large publishing company in the same town. Wanda and Diana were fitness nuts. They both worked as clothes designers having majored in home economics. Diana and Wanda were knock out beauties. They were hit on all the time by men wanting their attention. However their interests were not men, but each other and Julie. When it came to looks, Julie was no slouch she was beautiful. Just not quite in the class with Wanda and Diana. The three women also loved bondage, discipline and domination. Often they would play game of poker and the loser would be the bondage slave and victim of the other two for the evening and night. Julie had a fascination with being wrapped in bondage as a complete mummy. Wanda and Diana were not interested. The bondage paddling an a little nipple torture was good enough for them, either giving or receiving. Occasionally Suzanne would join them for their games. Suzanne had a master’s degree in Nursing and was lab supervisor at the hospital. When she joined the games the two losers became the slaves of the other two.

Khisara’s Last Walk

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

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’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?

La Bomba

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

0:01:43….0:01:42….0:01:41…0:01:40, she watches as the timer sitting in front of her counts down to her demise, she’s been staring at it ominously for the past 2 hours hoping she’ll be able to stop the timer or at least slow it down from just staring at it alone, but that of course won’t happen. She tries to scream for help in hopes someone will come untie her but the ball gag shoved in her mouth stifles any chance of someone hearing her. The ropes lashing her wrists and ankles together are unforgiving and bite into her flesh with every move, the rope around her waist and around her breasts keep her held tight to the chair….but we’re getting ahead of ourselves here, lets look at how Sabrina got herself into this little predicament.

Laura

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter I

The truth finally got Laura’s attention. She didn’t know how long she had been struggling with the damned handcuffs. She couldn’t get herself out of them! Why had she been doing such a stupid thing? They were too tight and she didn’t have a chance, making the key fit in the lock. Oh, what a misery! If it only had been the cuffs, she could have called 911 and made up a story about something, but she had gagged herself with a ball-gag harness before cuffing her wrists behind her back. She thought it would be easy to unlock them, but she obviously was wrong!

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: Some of you who read my first story “Game of a Lifetime” were revolted, upset, and disturbed. Others liked it. If you thought my first story was sick and gave you nightmares, please do not read this story. It is not my intention to expose anyone to material they do not consider enjoyable. For those of you who are just are not shocked easily, enjoy.

For much of our childhood, Sarah and I were just like any other pair of identical twins. Our mother dressed us alike, we had the same hairstyle, and mostly liked doing the same things. I thought we were both pretty happy. Afterall, we had a lot going for ourselves. Our mother had raised us by herself and would have done anything for us. We attended first a private school in New York and then went to Boarding School in England. We had a good, catholic upbringing.

My Mistreses Final Punishment

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

This story was submitted for the 2010 Winter Fetish Contest. Please be sure to rate read and rate each story. When you’re finished, visit our sponsor by clicking the banner above. (They have lots of cool stuff!).

My name is Misty and I’m a 27 year old bi-sexual female slave. I’m Owned by Mistress Gwen Gwen who is strict and ensures that I keep my body perfectly fit and healthy to the extreme. I had recently disobeyed in a very severe way, Mistress Gwen has forbid all of her female slaves from having sex with any of the male slaves and she caught me doing just that one afternoon. She kept me chained in the basement cells for weeks and I knew she was mad, but did not realize just how mad she was. She came in one morning and finally released me, promising that she was about to give me a very unusual session. I thought maybe her anger had passed in the weeks I had been locked down here, but I was mistaken.

Owned by the Mother-in-Law

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: This is a story which embodies most of my fantasies; to be owned and humiliated by a mature woman would be heaven.

Part 1

I had known from the word go that I could never completely satisfy her sexually; she was way above my league, a picture of feminine grace on the outside, and a virago on the inside. The few acquaintances I knew at the time of our swift marriage had said she was just after my money; I had inherited a fair amount and she had seemed so sincere. It had not taken her long to discover my submissive side and she had soon taken full control of me. Everything I owned was now signed over to her and she had soon tired of simply dominating me to attain sexual satisfaction. She had invited males of her choice back to our home and had me watch whilst they had sex, and now here I was, in the back of a car being driven by one of her favourites; a huge black guy who simply grinned and laughed as he listened to Cherie as she taunted me on this not un-significant journey.

Pavlov's Dog

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: Normally, SNUFF is one of those topics that I don’t care for reading. But ironically, this is the second story with that tag that I’ve posted on this site. “Playing Games” (as those who’ve read the story know) doesn’t actually end in death. I won’t give away the ending of this story, however, I think (like the other) it deal with the topic from an unusual POV.

Personally, I don’t particularly understand the fascination with snuff–which is healthy. lol. But even as a fantasy, I just don’t get it. For me, it just seems like such a waste. To me, the point of kidnapping and torturing a woman would seem to be the gratification of watching her suffer. Obviously, that’s not something I would do myself, but I can at least understand a motivation. But if you’re going to kill her, you’re removing your ability to do that more in the future. That’s sort of like the Ebola virus that kills its victims so rapidly they often don’t have time to spread the disease, which causes the outbreak to falter and not spread very far. In much the same way, “snuff” just seems like fantasy suicide to me.

Reality Television Star

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

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

Shell

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: This is a relatively short and very mild story about a Vampire’s chattel. Most of the “bondage” element is implied or of a psychological nature. Mind-control because… they’re vampires! Bondage because… the main character IS bound, although I spend very little time describing it. You are forewarned.

Marisa is hunting again.

I can see that she’s surfing the Internet as I set the drink she requested down on the table beside her and wait to see if she’ll need anything else. I know she knows I’m watching her. It doesn’t take a psychic to figure that out. But I always wonder what it means when she doesn’t reprimand me for it.

Stilling the Voice

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1 - Preparation

I awake early, intrinsically realizing that today is the day. I have know that this day would come; planned a hundred times in my mind how it might unfold, seduced by the finality of it. Today is the day.

A cup of coffee brings me to full awareness and my preparation begins. Everything that follows must conform precisely to a plan that is being dictated by a voice in my head, my companion self, present since childhood.

The Death Penalty

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: The story codes may imply a more graphic level of story violence than is actually delivered–but the theme is decidedly dark.

I can’t believe this is happening, Sara Johnson thought to herself. How did I ever let myself get trapped with a husband like this? He’d seemed like such a catch at the time.

Sara’s arms were bound tightly behind her back, in a Japanese style chest harness; she was lying on a musty mattress, still damp from her own urine. He’d left her bound for what seemed like days; then punished her when he found she hadn’t held her water, by looping a rope around her waist and tying it off with a slip knot. As he’d pulled the rope tight she’d felt her organs sloshing around inside her as they adjusted to the new shape of her body. It was an odd feeling, not too unlike mud being squished through her toes. He’d tied the end of the waist-rope to the mass of knots behind her back, tugging to make it as tight as he possibly could. Even with her back arched the rough fibers of the rope tore at the tender flesh between her legs.

The Dream of the End

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: A young biker, not completely on the right side of the law, finds an unbelievable situation in the wheatfields of Kansas.

“Some people worry about The End of the Dream. All I cared about was the Dream of the End.” Anonymous - WWII concentration camp survivor.

I had been an outdoors type all my life. Given any set of mountains or wilderness, I could survive most comfortably with just a knife as a tool. Some of that was learned in childhood in the wilds of West Virginia, the rest with the Special Forces in the US Army.

The Hotel

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: A special arrangement by ’normal’ hotels worldwide allows BDSM travellers to live the lifestyle completely. This is a first story in that conceptual universe. Here we encounter the travails of a slavegirl as her mistress climbs the social ladder.

Chapter 1

kinkhotels.com was created by group of business people who also made BDSM part of their lifestyle. They recognized a lapse in the market where high standard, BDSM friendly, luxury accommodation was not available to the discerning BDSM traveler. Participating hotels set aside special floors and/or whole areas within their premises that were inaccessible to non-BDSM guests. They also offered associated services and facilities. Of course, BDSM guests could avail themselves of the other, vanilla services and facilities with a proviso of keeping their activity covert. Checking in was through the normal counter but attended by a specially designated receptionist. Having booked through the site, the booking would be flagged as requiring special attention. The special receptionists would normally be lifestyle practitioners themselves, mostly slaves working the reception desk for their masters and owners.

The House That Jack Built

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

He had run every red light between the Strand and St John’s Wood and it seemed like all the speed cameras in London had flashed him as well but the late evening traffic was light and it had taken him just 20 minutes so far. He knew he was close and when he turned the corner, all four tires squealing and saw the flashing lights, the endless lines of police cars and back up units, the Fire Engines and the Ambulances and heard helicopter blades beating the air rhythmically above him, he knew he was in the right place.

The Island

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

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.

The Keyhole

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

“It’s awfully heavy isn’t it?”

Sir Howard sighed. “Yes, the intention was to make the wearer continuously aware of its presence.”

“It looks awfully old.”

“Not really,” Sir Howard replied. “Only about 200 years.”

He was thinking of the difference between the English and American concepts of age when Priscilla spoke again.

“It’s very pretty.”

“Yes those old craftsmen decorated all their objects. They abhorred a plain surface. Besides, this was intended to be worn by a woman. But the silver and gold decoration you see was done in an earlier style.”

The Mask

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: Synopsis:

Animal rights activist Lucie is not exactly excited when her highschool’s Egyptian arts teacher asks her to help with a project in the museum. - Note: It’s more of a horror story than anything else. Entomophobes beware.

P.S. English is not my mothertongue, so please bear with me.

“For they have seen the King appearing in power

As a god who lives on his fathers

And feeds on his mothers

The Perils of Annette

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Annette was only half awake as her husband busily prepared himself for the day ahead; she sat at the dining table with her cup of coffee gradually coming to, she listened to him as he moved about the house getting ready to leave for work. He was going on about some major project he had on today but Annette was only just interested in the day she had planned and as soon as he left she would start. He was now standing by the front door, briefcase in hand looking for his car keys when Annette walked slowly over to him and held the keys out to him, kissing her on the cheek he grabbed the keys and opened the door “Don’t forget to feed Bessie!” he said as he left.

The Replacement

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: This is a fantasy I’ve had for a long time and played out in my head, with myself at various times as each character. It’s just something I need to get down on paper (so to speak)!

Chapter 1

Girl leant forward over the kitchen sink to scrub a stubborn mark off the dish. With each movement of the sponge there could be heard a clinking sound as the thin steel chain between her handcuffs tapped the glass and crockery in the water. After years of wearing the cuffs (they had no keyholes, and were permanent), she had ceased to even notice when they made sound.

The Sentences

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

The two of us stood side by side. Well, we were ten feet apart, both housed in tall steel cages, but at least we were close to each other.

The room was silent. In front of us was a panel of judges. We had been brought down into this complex two days ago, captured after my sister had made one too many phone calls from one building. After tracing the calls, agents had burst in on us. We were arrested and taken into custody.

Three Roles With Jim

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 1: The French Bondage Maid

I hurried home to get supper ready for Jim. I had stayed late at work adding the finishing touches to my presentation. Jim did not like to be kept waiting, so I became quite stressed as I stood in the long line at the Japanese takeout. When I finally reached home I was relieved to find that Jim had not yet arrived, so I quickly set the table, laid out the sushi, and put the rest in the oven to keep warm. Then I changed out of my work clothes into some that I thought would please Jim. He never said what he liked me to wear, but by experimenting I had found that he wanted me to look like a whore. Since I was feeling sexy, I very much wanted to please him that night so I put on my French maid outfit, which had proven successful in the past. This consisted of a padded cleavage bra with a low scoop top, a short black skirt over crotchless panties, and high-heeled shoes. I applied bright red lipstick and mascara, and brushed my hair. I examined myself critically in the mirror and decided that this was the best I could do in the short time I had allowed myself.

Tourist Trap Revisited

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: This is a fan-fiction remake of the cult-classic horror film Tourist Trap with the major difference from the movie being that all the characters are female with the exception of the villain. This story is meant to be generally consistent with the film, although there are definitely some more adult themed events in it. It also employs supernatural elements and takes place in 1979. As mentioned in previous stories that I submitted earlier, this is not for everyone. Consider yourself warned in advance.

Trespassed

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

The eagle has landed…

It felt like she was that bird. She was grounded all right. But not on the moon, although she felt like in heaven. The sun was great. It was warm in the white sand. She smiled to herself. She didn’t care if she wasn’t an eagle. He was. Her adored husband. Her master. He was like a predatory eagle, always slowly circling around her, and then…. it was more than sufficient for her.

Vision of Mercy

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Full Story (added: )

Category: N/A Codes: M-f, Kidnapping, Snuff, NC

“What am I doing here?” she thought in a hazy and deep confusion, opening her eyes slowly to try and see around her but the room was too dark for her to see anything. She tried to replay the events that got her into this position but her mind was still foggy from the drugs her captor used on her.

Warning: Suffocation Hazard

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Diana Smith was her name cute in her 20’s a little on the shy side but still a confident woman she walked to her apartment from a long day at work as she used her key to open her door.

Diana stepped in and thought what should I do after the long day; all she wanted to do is jump in the shower and get cleaned up from the day, to be clean and refreshed for the night. As she moved about her apartment she began to undress removing her top to reveal her small frame body and figure as she walked next to the mirror to admire herself. Diana slinked out of her skirt as she looked at herself in the mirror she blew herself a kiss at her image, and walked to the bathroom. There she pulled off her panties and removed her bra to reveal her rather petite figure. She stepped into the shower and turned on the water as she stood there letting the day’s worries wash away from her as the water beaded down over her naked body.

When I Died A Million Times

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Author's Note: What if in the after-life you pay for your sins by living the life of a cosmic slave caste? This is an esoteric experiment, silly, and nothing to take too seriously.

Chapter 1

When I died, my body fell into a dark void while my soul parted away. Little did I know that my body and soul had their own agency. I watched as my soul floated away as a bright white incandescent body, but not bright enough to illuminate the darkness around. It was a familiar face, an old friend, a twin abandoning me.

Who Shall It Be?

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Mummy. Wrapped sculpture For all eternity, Tucked away In seclusion. My love.

Chapter 1: THE BEDROOM

“Come With Me”

I enter the living room one day to find you sitting there watching TV. You don’t notice me at first. “Like what you see?” I ask. You stir from your relaxed state and notice that am wearing a purple latex dress which drops to 3" above the knee. I am also wearing thigh-high stretch black vinyl platform boots which cling tightly to my slender ankles up my round plump calves to the base of my thighs. Your jaw drops, producing the desired result. I tell you that I have a surprise for you. You squint a little at me, trying to decipher what it could mean. “Come with me” I command. You obediently follow me down the hall, watching the shamefully tight latex clinging to my juicy ass cheeks swaying side to side in a lazy figure eight as I strut toward the bedroom. As you enter the room you notice a black satin sheet that has been laid over the full size bed.