Torture

Part 1 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. ...

Author's Note: 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. EDIT: Initially was going to make this a 1 part story. Up to 3 now, with at least one more on the way. Mom’s and daughters, what do you think if you read this? I’d be interested to hear in the comments. ...

Here I am squatted down in somewhat of a upright fetal position in the shadows of a dirty closet on the first floor of a filthy abandoned building on Lake Street about six blocks West of downtown Chicago on a balmy Friday night in July. My name is Alicia. My black leather elbow length gloved hands are locked behind my back at the wrists with a medium sized brass “master Lock” attached to a leather lead strap that is connected to a posture collar that is locked about my neck. The posture collar is firmly holding on my head a black leather lace up hood with openings for my eyes, two small holes for my nose and a small hole where the mouth would be. Under that hood is a large red ball gag tightly buckled between my red painted lips that all but covers the mouth hole in the mask. My ankles of my black size 8 knee high lace up leather boots with a 5 inch heal are locked together with another larger brass “Master Lock” that allows for 2-3 inches of gap between the ankles. My Black pleated latex skirt has risen up to expose my sheer thigh high stockings and lace garter belts. I’m not wearing any panties. They had been replaced by a length of chrome chain that is wrapped tightly around my waist and pulled roughly between my legs and is locked just below the small of my back with another small brass “master lock.” The chain has become my steel g-string digging deeply into the soft flesh between my legs. The chain is not without purpose. Its application was to hold the large black butt plug and the 6-inch extra thick black latex dildo tightly in place. I did not use any vibrators on this trip I had been a “bad girl” and I needed punished. ...

Author's Note: What goes throught the mind of a young woman who, due to extreme economical problems, has sold herself into slavery and now awaits the beginning of her new life? Compounding the stress is the fact that her decision is not final until a prescribed waiting period has been completed. April signed the agreement; she put the pen on the desk and slowly stood up. She then watched as the woman seated on the other side of the desk turned the papers around and carefully flipped through the pages insuring that each of the required places for initials had been properly marked and that April’s signature was properly placed and dated. Seemingly satisfied she placed the paperwork into a file the tab of which showed April’s full name and the date of April 2, 2012, her date of birth, eighteen years ago today. The woman nodded to a woman standing near the door. The woman stepped forward holding something silver in color in front of her. ...

Author's Note: For when the day’s fun is over with… He lifted her up from the fuck post. She had been bent over the waist high horizontal bar with her wrists and ankles locked to the ground for the better part of the day. Countless cocks had pounded her sore ass for hours. When she wasn’t being fucked she was being whipped. Angry red lines streaked her ass, her thighs, and her back. ...

Chapter One “Bowling? Really? It’s an unusual injury to get from bowling.” The doctor didn’t sound convinced, but I thought I might be able to get away with it. “Er, yes, bowling.” “And so how often do you go bowling?” It wasn’t going to work, but I thought I’d try to bluff it through. “Um, well, about… once in a while…” The doctor sighed, took his glasses off, and leaned forward at me. “Mr Jones, I have seen the X-rays of your hand and the physiotherapists report, and I can say that in all my years of looking at hand pain problems, symptoms like yours have never been attributable to a bad technique at bowling.” ...

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing…be patient…I look to trying to improve and give you want you want. Prologue Victor was packing his bags for his final trip to his new home. Traveling across the globe to a place that was a bit different, is a change for anyone. **ring** Looking up to his cell phone he saw that it was his ex-wife, he groaned. Reaching over his grabbed it and answer. ...

Author's Note: Wrote this for a friend in exchange for something that is none of your business :P Haven’t done a huge amount of Daddy/Little play so if some bits are off feel free to let me know. Hope you enjoy. RJW Amber lay on the bed that had been her world for the past hour, nothing occurring beyond the 4 edges of that mattress could possibly matter. Nothing other than his hands working their way across her body, nothing other than his kisses up the inside of her thighs, nothing other than the feel of his hair in between her fingers as his mouth worked magic in between her leg and she whispered ‘oh daddy please’ again and again. Now he lay above her his hands either side of her face, the cock she worshipped and loved so much pushing in and out of her while his mouth worked its way down her neck to her nipples. ...

I don’t get a lot of opportunities to indulge in self-bondage nor do my wife and I get to explore bondage as much as we would like. What with my wife’s schedule and having an almost teenage daughter around. But today all the stars aligned and lo and behold here I am with a Sunday all to myself. What to do? I only realised Saturday as I was slogging through a workday that I normally don’t work that I had the day to myself. Visions of sugarplums. No that’s the wrong story! I ran through a library of scenarios. It has been so long I didn’t know where to begin. Even by the time I finally went to bed Saturday night I still had no idea what I would do but I knew I needed to do something. It’s the few and far between thing. ...

After a restless night, Susan awoke to find that the lights in her cell were on again. The cuffs on her hands relenquished their grip soundlessly, and she freed herself from the foam padding she had slept on. The heavy cell door opened on a hydralic hinge, revealing what she now realised was the main corridor in this place. Glancing along it, she saw that there was another door open, a little way down the corridor. The display on the ceiling read “slave B17 to web room.” Her bare feet made no sound on the spotless plastic floor as she made her way to the “web room,” whatever that was. ...