Toys

Amanda and I have been seeing each other pretty steadily for at least eighteen months. We have never formally moved in together, but we have spent a lot of time at each others’ places - usually mine, since I have a house that has a lot more space and privacy than Amanda’s tiny apartment. At first the relationship was really good. Physically, she’s a knockout - petite, with shoulder-length chestnut hair, a trim body with breasts just big enough to make an inviting handful but not big enough to have any droop. We have tastes - in music, in films, in outdoor activities – that overlap enough to make our lives compatible without being so much the same that it would be boring. She seemed to enjoy my company, my conversation, our shared activities, and most of all, our sex life. She loved fucking me, and could come three or four times in a row seemingly without effort. She could always nudge me into some of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. ...

It is bonus check time at work so I get to buy extra toys this month. It stinks being on a limited budget but with this extra money I’ll be able to buy this new slick looking Latex-Rubber hybrid suit that I have been eying. It’s a full body suit with an open face. The crotch area is made to look exactly like a female. My dick would have to go into a pouch and condom like tube and my dick would end up pointing up and be flat against my stomach. There is also a tube that acts like an external catheter where if I peed the pee would come out the pussy on the suit. The back part of the suit has a hole and special rubber that goes into the anus allowing for pooping while wearing the suit. ...

Author's Note: This is not fiction. It is a true account. It is 100% factual. In my previous tale “Real life restraint” I recounted the true story of my first bondage experience and of the lady who allowed me to tie her. (Search my name to find it). In the closing paragraph I mentioned another girl from later in my life who I shared my first anal sex experience with. I have had requests to explain who she was. So this is the story of Rachael and of my journey into anal sex. This will be a difficult story for me to tell as I have to admit a few things I am ashamed of. ...

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. ...

Do I really want to do this? Or do I have another choice? Not really – if I don’t want to ruin my career – what might happen anyway. While I’m dressing myself to meet my fate in the park my thoughts are lingering back to the Friday night a week ago when the whole misery began. Well, it didn’t really begin there because my involvement in self-bondage has been going on for a long time. ...

Tempest Bannister was close, she could sense it. Months of research through dusty libraries was about to pay off. She’d heard rumors of hidden vaults among the old Moorish ruins in the Highlands, but bit by bit, she’d pieced together information that told her that these were more than just folklore. Tempest was more adventurer than archeologist. Rather like Lara Croft (Though she thought of that character as a mere amateur, in addition to being a work of fiction). She’d always been fascinated by items from the distant past. After receiving her degree in the field, she’d either been lucky enough or talented enough to make several remarkable discoveries. She preferred to think of it as the latter. ...

9-4-8-7 Kira Petrova pressed the numbers in order and the lockbox unlatched to reveal the key within. She inserted the key into the front door and opened it. With a garment bag over one shoulder, she dragged her duffel in behind her as she switched on the lights. She surveyed what would be her new home for the next several months, and hopefully longer. The house was is better condition than she expected. When Cirque informed her that they recently purchased it from a fraternity, she thought it would be in some advanced state of disrepair, but it appeared to be in fine condition. She should know by now - Cirque are professionals. They expedited her work visa with impressive speed, there should be no reason to think they would house their performers in substandard conditions. The house was near UNLV, which made it conveniently close to the Las Vegas Strip, where she would be performing nightly in their new show. ...

Author's Note: Something I wrote a while back for another site. Thought I’d share On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t have said yes. This experience has turned out to be much more than what I expected. The amazing combination of discomfort- muscles and joints pulled into places where they don’t belong- and the tightness is almost too much. My body is completely invaded… My mouth is open enough to breathe, though the hood blocks all but muffled sounds. I can’t speak because my face feels constricted, pressed tight all around by the delicious leather. The inescapable smell is enough to send me to the brink of orgasm. ...

Author's Note: The majority of this story is true—I was directed by Mistress Jennifer to write her a story that very closely mirrored our relationship. The Dream Lover element is fiction, but she assures me that she plans on making it happen :). Part One The alarm clock rang and a hand appeared out from under the blankets and after 4 failed attempts was able to hit the “off” button. The hand belonged to Jennifer and the scene looked no different than that played out in millions of bedrooms at 7:00AM on a Wednesday—someone reluctantly getting up for work after a long night. Jennifer started to rub her eyes when she suddenly seemed to have remembered something important. She quickly hopped out of bed, ran over to her desk and hit some random keys until her screen began to glow and come to life. ...

Author's Note: I am very active in Second Life and have several novella length fetish fiction stories available there. So if you enjoyed this come into SL and say hi. Katrinka Karu!! Chapter 1 Chloe heard the staccato clicks of heels outside of her apartment and couldn’t resist hurrying to the door’s peephole to have a look. The building catered to wealthy, single patrons – the very reason Chloe chose it. Still single at thirty-something, she hoped to parlay her wealth and attractiveness into a long-term relationship. Unfortunately, the only other tenant on this floor was Mr. Jenkins, and while he was an attractive candidate, he seemed both reclusive and standoffish. She’d only spoken with him twice, and he seemed uninterested in her attentions. ...