Torture

Jennifer glanced at her watch and wondered where her friend was. Standing outside the local electronics store, she was impatient to get this over with. Her boyfriend’s birthday was the next day and she still couldn’t decide what to get him. She knew this was an important moment in their relationship. She had recently graduated from high school and moved in with John, her senior by 3 years, and they had already spoken of spending the rest of their lives together. His turning 21 not only marked an important moment in his life, but was also the first time they could officially celebrate an occasion as an adult couple. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find anything appropriate. She had already considered everything from a trip to a new watch, but they didn’t seem to fit the right mood. She had always been bad at this gift thing. She knew he put on a good face when he had opened previous presents. But she could see his disappointment sneaking through as he held up socks or a new CD. And whenever he gave gifts to her, they always seemed to be the perfect thing for the moment, gifts that inevitably brought tears to her eyes. ...

Author's Note: Comments very welcome Part 1 He typed in the address of the site on the gift certificate that he found when clearing out his late uncle Tom’s belongings. There had been quite a few really interesting things to keep, and as a poor student he could use things others wouldn’t be all that interested in, of course. His mother had given him free reign anyway, since it saved her a long trip from Dallas to San Francisco, and he was only half a day away, north of LA. She had not been very close to her younger brother, but his death at a young age when driving off a coastal cliff in his new Porsche convertible had nevertheless been quite a shock. Best of it for him, when clearing his uncle’s condo out had been finding a two year old Chevrolet Tahoe. It was slightly dented, but still, a vast improvement on the 14 year old Honda Civic with the airco kaputt. Yet he even got $200 for it selling his old banger on the spot. It had been a matter of loading the stuff he had wanted to keep, and getting the rest to the dump. A U-haul trailer had been needed though. The condo had been put on the market now, and the proceeds would be going to his mother, obviously. ...

Author's Note: In this 3 part sci-fi spoof we go back to the 1960s, when the forces of UNCLE (The United Network Command for Law and Enforcement) were battling the evil THRUSH Organization. Our heroine, April Dancer, was recruited by UNCLE right after college. In Part 1, April goes through a rigorous 90 day probationary training period, which included the UNCLE Torture Chair Test and a water torture test. When she passes, April enthusiastically participates in UNCLE’s bizarre recreational sex program. In Part 2, April takes part in UNCLE’s Field Exercises. She is captured and tortured by members of a lesbian women’s team. After the field exercises conclude, April and her friends are kept for nearly 24 hours and forced to play lesbian bondage sex games. In part 3, April and her best friend double cross 2 of the lesbian women and trick them into a night of heterosexual bondage sex. April must endure THRUSH’s latest weapon, The Fucking Machine! Finally, April becomes a hit in UNCLE’s Playroom. ...

Author's Note: This is my rendition of the very 1st Episode of The Girl From UNCLE, first televised on September 16, 1966, Obviously certain scenes from this episode could not be shown on TV. Please see my introductory story to April Dancer, The Girl From UNCLE, elsewhere on this website. Hi, this is April. My new partner, Mark Slate, and I, had been training together, at UNCLE’s secret headquarters, for about 3 weeks and felt that we worked together quite well. One Monday morning, we were called to Chief Waverly’s office for our 1st mission. UNCLE operatives in Athens, Greece, had received information about a phenomenon occurring on the only village on a small island, Kronos, just off the S.E. coast of Greece’s mainland. A few of UNCLE’s native operatives infiltrated the island and took film of most everyone moving about in slow motion. Worse yet, the daily end of the work day Greek dance held around the fountain in the center of the town, looked pitiful. Both the dancers and musicians were lethargic and danced and played at a very slow unhappy rate. Mark and I and Mr. Waverly were watching video of this phenomenon that had been flown in. We learned that a THRUSH agent, by the name of Poulous, was responsible and lived in a guarded walled mansion set on top of a hill. While in Kronos, our operatives had also taken blood samples of a number of affected villagers, and shipped them along with the film we seemed to be constantly watching. ...

Author's Note: Thanks to Jennifer Harrison for her assistance, and for letting me read her great-great grandmother’s diary. I write stories with bondage, not bondage stories, so this story isn’t just a collection of tie-whip-rape scenes with a little bit of filler. If that’s what you’re looking for you’ll be disappointed, so go elsewhere. My father, Sir Charles Harrison, FRS, DPhil, was dying. He had been dying for months, but now, in this first week of June, 1889, the end was near. He was wracked by another spasm of coughing, and the cloth he held to his lips was stained with blood. “Jenny, come closer,” he whispered. ...

Part I This is my first time writing about my bondage experiences, although I’ve been a bondage enthusiast and practitioner since childhood. I was always fascinated by bondage, and I loved to see a girl or boy tied up on the TV. I also noticed that on TV most captives weren’t tied very well, and I figured that I’d be able to escape from each of those tie-ups and how I could do a better job of tying. Bondage so filled my mind that I was constantly thinking about ways to tie people and ways to escape from those ties. When I finally started actively participating, it was as if I had years of experience. This is a recounting of my first actual bondage experience. It’s a long story that I’ll tell in several parts, but looking back at it I can see how strongly it shaped my bondage life since. Come to think of it my brother’s life was rather strongly influenced as well. ...

Author's Note: A highwayman robs a lady’s coach on the turnpike at Southwark in 1697 and takes a rich prize; a Nazi interrogator extracts information from a captured British spy; Emily Cavandish recalls other encounters too, recounting them to a student psychiatrist in the sanatorium in which she is held. Is it possible that we can be reborn or is this just her delusions ? If we are reborn then can some lives be linked through time, intertwined across the centuries ? If memories live on, can love be eternal and hate continue so that revenge be served in future lives ? ...

Author's Note: A 6 part series about a young man who expands his hobby into a lifelong career and makes a fortune with it. Chapter 1 - The Mountaintop My new guest was due any time. I insisted on a strict timetable, so that two clients never saw each other. Discretion was at the top of my guaranteed services. She had just five minutes left to get here, or I would push the button that would close the electric gate. If that happened then she would have to explain, by secure email, just why she was tardy, then accept a reschedule. Fortunately, that would not be the case here - on the security monitor, I saw a car pull into the driveway and start up the steep hill - that had to be her. ...

LIFE SUCKS! This was the thought that rolled thru her head… deafened her mind to the world around her and any possible escape from the dull, day-to-day existance that she lived. Everyday was the same… she awoke… she wen’t to her low paying, intolerably boring job… she came home to the solitary confines of her empty apartment … the only relief was her computer, there she was loved… there she was beautiful … there she was wanted … to dream that someday real life could be like her fantasies brought tears to her cheeks and an ache to her sorrowful heart. ...

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. ...