Hello My Name is Shelly I am a 31 year old white female 5ft 10 in tall and 125lbs, recently divorced. The divorce was nasty and I was glad it finally over. On the day the paper was finally signed I realized I had moved here with my husband I had no friends that were not his most of my close family were gone and I was by myself. I decided to quit my job and move away. I loved the summer so I moved south to a small town in Fla. ...
Author's Note: This story is a spin-off from one of my favorite stories of all time, Group XS by Dr. Saavik. It’s not necessary to have read that beforehand, but you really should… it’s pretty great. Tucked away beneath a non-descript brick manor off of a sleepy, tree-lined road lies a classroom. Its walls are lined with the letters of the alphabet, sentence diagrams, and maps of the world. The teacher’s desk sits at the front, next to a large blackboard. A shiny red apple rests on it next to a stack of papers to grade. Several rows of desks occupy the middle of the room. ...
To say that Lara was a tease would be an understatement. She had given Eric every sign of availability right from the beginning and he had responded with his usual speed and vigor, but she had danced away. It had all been repeated several times over the past two years as he became more and more deeply attracted to her. He had been away for more than a month, with no explanation, and now he had come to work in a very unusual outfit. It started with a heavy, highly-polished steel collar, closely contoured to his neck and extending nearly its full length, closed with a padlock and inscribed in large letters, “Slaveric,” and, “Property of Mistress Demona.” And on his sleeveless, form-fitting black shirt large silver letters invited, “Ask me about slavery.” He could not have removed the shirt, if he had been tempted, because its turtleneck ran up under the locked collar. His outfit was completed by black leather shorts whose belt was padlocked and heavy black boots whose buckles were secured by small padlocks. It was something he would never, ever have worn if he had a choice, but of course that was the point. ...
Author's Note: What can you find in this story: heavy non-consensual slaving as a reality in the world, a slaves retirement facility which is the pivot-point of all, Mafia, a little bit of James Bond, a little bit of Frankenstein, a little bit of the Avengers. It’s a fairy-tale or a myth about what can happen to the world of slavers when a very rich and heavy non-consensual slaver turns around and starts to feel sympathy. And about all this story wallows in the seductive fascination of rubber-dolls. ...
Author's Note: Disclaimer/foreword Hi, this is my first story, and thus I’m not sure if it’s merits. It is fantasy pure and simple, the technology is unrealistic and I doubt the rest of the story is much better realism wise. Finally, all feedback is greatly appreciated, if anyone has ideas on how to continue this story I am open to it, and I intend to write more stories with Morina in the future. ...
Chapter 1: Foot Cleaner Fred set up his laptop on his bed with his hand over his dick, preparing for a long night of masturbation. The 22-year old college senior had pretty much given up on ever scoring any girls for himself due to a total lack of confidence, and was at this point just happy to have a house alone off campus where he could enjoy his prolonged masturbation sessions in peace. ...
Author's Note: Story was inspired by an old tattooed, pierced girlfriend who was a smoking fiend. We had wild sex and bondage fun and games. She was a genuine psycho! _Updated (12/19/11):* Finally wrote the sequel! Sorry it’s been so long! More to come.* Part 1 He saw her sitting at the bar and he was quite smitten. She was a petite raven-haired beauty with deep blue eyes, heavily mascaraed and darkly-shaded. She had tattoos and piercings and wore a very tight-laced black leather over-bust, shoulder-strap corset that deliciously squeezed her ample-looking breasts and forced her to sit very straight on the barstool. She was a sexy, wild-looking thing! She was drinking a draft beer and smoking a cigarette, as smoking was allowed in this bar. He was a non-smoker, but was transfixed. ...
Author's Note: Wanted to change my writing style a bit so I came up with the idea to write a story in the first person. As you have noticed breathplay and scuba gear are a major turn on and I tend to write about females going through breathplay so I gave it a shot. This is what I came up with and from my response over on Fetlife I must have done something right because I got a nice response. ...
Author's Note: This is the 10th story in the series “The Stories of Bound Friends.” I will continue to post the series here but I will also be posting extras and updates the moment they are ready on my blog: http://jessbbaby.blogspot.com The next few days after Carl’s death were slow and painful for Sophia. She met with a lawyer who said the contract could be passed down just like it could be sold, and so all the same restrictions apply. Which was especially terrible because there was then no one to give her permission to do the things she needed permission to do. And with the contract transferring ownership, she would likely be under extra scrutiny. She couldn’t ever be sure she had a moment where she could be free to break the rules without being noticed. ...
Author's Note: I’m quite new to writing erotic stories, and this trilogy is my first attempt at writing a multi-part story. I’m keen to receive feedback from people who read my stories. Constructive criticism is welcomed. Please let me know what you think for each part of the story. Part One Sophie put the meal that she had just prepared on a tray and carried it through into the lounge so that she could sit and watch television while she ate. She started to watch the news, but there didn’t seem to be any new news. The news bulletin on the TV was talking about the same things that it had covered yesterday. Soon she changed channel and watched the latest episode of a soap. ...