Torture

Author's Note: A very possible scenario, one which the author would love to be the subject of. This story is developing as it is being written. Chapter 1 It was after my divorce, I was alone, I could do exactly as I wished. I had long, during my marriage, been visiting BDSM sites on the internet, I had even visited Mistresses in realtime, I had even visited transvestite Mistresses. I enjoyed nothing more then getting my ass raped, by a strap-on, or a real cock. I had never had anything really big up there but I was training it up with dildos etc.. ...

Chapter 1 - V for Vanessa While bound to the bed, enduring another interminable wait for the woman to return for more oral pleasures, I reflected back on the improbable sequence of events that led to this latest predicament. For as long as I could remember, I had desires to be tied up and dominated in bed by women. These desires continued through a couple of decades of a dull marriage and became stronger than ever once released from my matrimonial bonds. Frequent business travel provided an opportunity to live out some of those fantasies. A trip one fateful summer evening set in motion a sequence of events that forever changed my life. ...

I’m strapped down on an oddly shaped table. My feet hang over the end of the table so that I’m kneeling. Then I’m bent at the waist, so that my back is parallel with the floor. The center of my chest, between my nipples, is resting on a padded bar that is fixed to the table, and I’m strapped, above my crotch and again below my nipples, to this bar. My cock and balls hang freely–for the moment–behind that end of the bar. My nipples straddle the bar, and my head and neck extend beyond the front end of this padded bar. ...

Author's Note: : This story takes place in the BDSM-rich universe of www.callmeplisskin.com. It was originally written for him as part of a trade, involving his characters, and is being posted here with his permission. Chapter 1 “Wakey wakey, Claire! Time to rise and shine!” Coming to, Claire blinked in the harsh, bright light. As she sat up, she realized that, once again, she was naked, bound, and gagged. Her captors approached, a pair of maids she immediately recognized. As the penis gag was removed from her mouth, Claire sighed, “Not you two again.” ...

Author's Note: This is a work of sexual fantasy. In no way does the author support the ugly reality of human trafficking. Everyone in this story is a work of fiction. This is my first attempt at a short story. Despite being my first language, English is not my forte so pardon my many grammatical errors. This isn’t the sort of story that I can ask those that know me personally to proof read. To be honest, it makes me wince a little to read. Not because of the dark sexual content but just the poor writing. It’s a bit silly but I’m grateful for the instant ability to publish that the internet provides. I would love to hear your comments or criticisms. ...

Author's Note: See the story I wrote about Jasmine becomes a slave for insight in this story Chapter 1 Shelia’s Bar and Fetish shop was the hub of the BDSM community in South Florida. Also many folks came from other parts of Florida, as she had a reputation for the finest B&D fetish wear and equipment in the state. Shelia Bobbs was 35 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, 5'10" and about 140lb. She was very popular and her close friends also knew she had a dungeon up in her loft for their enjoyment. It was a Monday night in April, when Racheal entered the bar with her slave Jasmine. Shelia greeted them and asked how the triplet training was going (see training triplets). It is done now; I just shipped them to the Schwartz’s home three days ago Racheal responded. Racheal was her friend and also helped her develop new items for the BDSM scene and tested them out for her. “So what do I owe the honor of the great “trainer” visiting my humble bar?” she asked Racheal jesting. “Well we are celebrating the six month anniversary of Jasmine becoming my slave and assistant. (see Jasmine becomes a slave), said Racheal, and we also need to schedule your week of slavery for losing the bet we made on whether I could make Jasmine my permanent slave”. “I was hoping you had forgotten about that” Shelia responded. “No way, and I still owe you for the week I had to serve you” laughed Racheal. Shelia pulled out her calendar and told Racheal, anytime after next week, as Wendy (Shelia’s assistant) was on vacation until then visiting her parents. After a short discussion the second week of May was decided on from Sunday 12 noon to Sunday 12 noon. “Remember, the rules we have in the bet contract. No modifications, like you did with Jasmine, and no permanent damage or marks” said Shelia. “Of course I do know the rules and as long as you obey all commands without hesitation that is fine, but remember the clause in the contract that says if you refuse to do something that is not banned, the contract becomes two weeks and no limits” replied Racheal. “I know and no way will I allow that” Shelia said. Shelia was also informed that she was to be hairless from neck down, and only be wearing a dress and sandals when she arrived. That was accepted and for the rest of the night Racheal and Jasmine enjoyed the food and drink, and chatting with friends that dropped by. ...

Author's Note: Finally got to finishing this. Tried a different direction to see where it goes. Apologies for the lack of a solid conclusion. decided to leave that to your imaginations. I have tried proofing this. But prior stories show I am not too good at that. Enjoy. I finished late and it was already past 7. It was Friday night and I was planning on going to a club or two now work had finished. The office where I work is in a quiet area of the city, the clubs being down the other end. ...

Author's Note: English is not my first language.Not even my second one. So please excuse me for the grammartical mistakes. The story is about long confinement, metal bondage and kidnap.if you are looking for a sex story you can look elsewhere. To be continued …. Chapter 1 Simi woke up with a bad headache and blurred vision. Her head was heavy and the room was dark.she could not remember anything. She tried to sit up but found out she was restrained. She was horrified. Her hands were bound over her head with some kind of metal handcuffs. Her legs were spread and bound in the same way. She has no idea how she came here. ...

It was a bright, clear Sunday morning as Siona arrived at her therapist’s large country house, twenty minutes after she had phoned him to make the emergency appointment. Her therapist was called Dan, a good-looking man with black hair and sympathetic brown eyes, led her through to his consulting room, at the back of the house and invited Siona to sit in on the large black leather couch. Siona was comforted by the fact that even though she had only been in therapy for three weeks, Dan didn’t seem bothered about being disturbed at home on a Sunday. ...

Author's Note: After ‘Dreams of Mirkada’ I was going to leave Sally in peace to have her baby rather than subjecting her to more humiliation and stringent bondage for our pleasure but I’ve had several emails asking for another Mirkada story and I couldn’t resist putting her through just a little more. I couldn’t resist the title either. For those who’ve read about Sally’s journey into ever increasing bondage and submission beginning with ‘When in Rome…’, and becoming increasingly intense through ‘Return to Mirkada’ and ‘Dreams of Mirkada’, this story sees her face up to the fulfilment of her desires. For those who haven’t read the previous stories, Professor Sally Frost is an academic and historian now living in Mirkada; a city where women must be subjected to bondage when they leave their houses and those who are not citizens must also be leashed. ...