Dominic and Rosie Thanksgiving Scene "You did such a lovely job with dinner, and it's time for me to show you exactly how thankful I am for you. Bring me the red rope, my lover. I do believe it is time to get started." She and Dominic lay curled in front of the fireplace in their living room basking on their faux bear skin rug. Dominic brought Rosie's hand to his lips as she placed her glass of wine on the table.

I would like to thank a special friend for her proof reading skills and for her advice generally which have made this story better than it would otherwise have been. WARNING: This story contains a scene of "golden showers," female on male consensual urination. If this is not for you then I would suggest that you proceed no further as I have no wish to offend anyone. It's the story of the visit, by an experienced older submissive, to a young dominatrix for the first time.

The storm rages outside the small cave we’ve seen fit to take shelter in. The trip out to the beach, “frolicking in the woods” as you so lovingly put it, ended rather wetly with the sudden storm. Apparently Mother Nature didn’t think too much of us playing in the woods. Everyone’s a critic... Everything’s been soaked, the blankets caught in the early winds, ripped from our grasp, flying off into the trees.

Note: This story may NOT be posted to any pay site without express written permission by the author. All posts to free sites MUST include this notice! * * * * * I met my Mistress six months ago at the gym. I had just moved into the area, transferring my club membership over from my former location. During my first month at the gym, I admired her stunning beauty quietly from a distance.

Forward I had finally given in to my darkest desires and gone to a dominatrix. We had met online and chatted quite a bit before finally meeting in the flesh. At first, I had been a bit embarrassed and more than a bit uncomfortable. She called herself Dominique and she was not at all what I expected. Quite quickly, I found myself relaxing and opening up to her. She smiled and appeared down to earth and sensible.

There was another pop against her red ass. She yanked at the chains that bound her to the arched ceiling. "How the fuck did I get here?!" Her mind was racing. Another strike landed on her cheeks. They began to fondle her nipples. They were strong and handsome. Each tit was handled, pulled sucked. She did not have the control. Her license to demand had been revoked... momentarily. These two had somehow overpowered her and chains became her master.

There she was. Long hair flowing over her shoulders. Medium sized breasts lifted up by the wire in her corset. Beneath that, a black leather skirt. Above it, a proud and delicate face – strong but thoughtful. She was sitting deeply in a tall-backed chair, her legs crossed, unafraid and watching my every move. An empty glass of wine sat on the table beside her and next to it, a full bottle.

This story is pure fantasy. There are a few true details, but it's mainly fantasy. Thanks to my friend for planting the seeds of this idea in my mind! Domme by day, Sub by sunset. That's me! My house is on the small side. It's a ranch/rambler. It's pink with white trim. Why pink? When it was time to repaint, I had picked a nice yellow/gold shade but my painter took his sweet time getting to the job.

I would never say that life was routine with Mistress Monica. She kept me on my toes—or, more literally, on my heels—at least around the house. On days when I got home from my law office before she got home from her corporate job, I would immediately take off my suit and tie and put on one of the frilly aprons Mistress preferred me to wear at home, and a pair of heels to match the bra, panty, and garter set that she had chosen for me to wear under my business suit that day.

You walk into my room expecting to see me in a cute little skirt, and a little girl top, just the way you like me. What you get makes your mouth drop open. Standing here, in front of you, is a girl that you can barely recognize, a girl completely transformed by the couple of days she was ignored. This girl is the One that has awakened within me, while I was waiting for your call.

Being a dominatrix was new for me. Ironically, he had me under his spell. Just looking into his eyes, I would get lost. So lost, that now I created another side of me. My dominating side. Being 5 foot 10 inches, a slender athletic build, small tits with large nipples, and a firm ass, I emitted a sense of confidence. But confidence and looks were two very different things. Now that I knew that I could look the part, could I continue to play the part?

She was happy in her life having a few submissive boys here and there. There were a couple of them who were very special to her. Everything was going well until He walked into her life. He was such a strong man, such a to-the-core dominant. They spent some time talking and getting to know each other. She felt herself drawn to Him in ways she that never dreamed of, wanted to be with Him always, anxious if just one day went by that He did not show up at their meeting place.

Disclaimer: These are real stories. Everything that happened here is, to the best of my knowledge, what actually happened. The experiences are several years old, but I captured them all to the best of my ability. ***** So, it's been a year since my last femdom experience. That last one with an older woman really killed it for me. I told her what I liked, and what I didn't. She did everything to me that I told her I didn't like.

Any guy would’ve taken notice. She was on the subway and looked to be in her mid-twenties. Full breasts contoured a red blouse beneath her open jacket. An above-the-knee skirt hugged hips and thighs. Spikes and dark nylons completed the outfit. But it was her legs and shoes that got my attention. And she knew it. In a subtle tease, she moved a foot and dropped a hip, making a show for me through eight stations.

We are laughing, talking and holding each other's hands as we walk down the hotel hallway. We get to the threshold of the room I had reserved earlier in the day. I put the key in the lock, open the door, and follow her into the room. She turns to me, smiling, but sees that my face has grown stern. "You were late this afternoon, Baby. You know how valuable time is to me, and to us.

I'm soooo late... Looking at the dashboard clock, 6:27pm. Yep, I'm running late. I pull on to my street and the kids are having their usual street hockey game against their parents. I pull into my driveway and His car is there already. Oh this is not good. I turn off my car and take a deep breath. I open my car door and step out into my driveway. I smile and wave to the kids and their parents having a good time out in the street.

This is my first submission to Literotica, so I hope you enjoy it. Much thanks to TRCIII for help with editing. You were great to work with. Having lived in northern Indiana all my life, most everyone I know has developed a love/hate relationship with Notre Dame Football. As for me, I hate them. My wife loves them. A couple times during the year we spice up the games and put a little wager on them.

Aven lay on the bed with her legs spread wide, face turned to the side on the pillow. She awaited her master's arrival home, hoping that for the first time she would get some attention from him and be able to cum in a week. What seemed like hours, but were only minutes, passed. She heard the key in the lock turn. The sound made her wet, and her juices began to flow.

Frank Fletcher was pissed. His boss ordered him to drive from St. Louis to Cheyenne, Wyoming on one hour's notice, with no time to research flights. With no options, he set out with a change of clothes, a bag of toiletries and his laptop in the middle of the day with a Google directions to his destination. He swore at his asshole boss as he drove through Kansas City rush hour traffic, up the Missouri River and into a Nebraska night.

Walking in the rain by the embankment in London at Christmas, when the city's commuters have all gone home and deserted their glass and steel office buildings, they leave the square mile feeling like a ghost town. The only thing to comfort the passing traveler is the occasional homeless "Big issue" magazine seller braving the cold as unlike the many strangers who walk by you in silence, those magazine sellers by the Thames river have a reason to be nice, as they breathe warm air into their cupped hands to warm their gloved fingers in the biting cold.

-Dedicated to the guy at work that has resisted my every effort at seduction for over a year. To 'Jack,' the dude whose cock I fantazied about obsessively but never got. The torture is finally over. I got a new job- Ginnette positioned the patient for the CTA intracranial/carotid scan as Jack brought the patients information up on the computer. The two had worked this exam so many times together they flowed together as a team flawlessly without having to talk.

Kate West was worried. It was late, later than she had planned, and she hoped her new boyfriend was already asleep. They had only been together several months and this was the first time she even though about cheating on him. In fact, cheating wasn't even the right word to describe what had happened. But Kate hoped he was asleep because she didn't want to go through a lengthy explanation.

This is my first story, I hope you enjoy it! *** He feels her breath on his neck, her naked body soft and warm against his. She kisses him just below the ear and whispers, "I want you inside me." Her weight shifts onto him, and she looks down at him with soft eyes, her hair falling around his face. He tries to kiss her. "Don't!" she giggles, putting a single finger on his lips.

// This story is a continuation of my first story, which was originally intended as a standalone. I would like to thank everyone who commented with kind and encouraging words on the first one. I am keeping with my slightly unusual style as many people seemed to enjoy it, but I welcome constructive criticism! I now have lots of ideas for this couple, so I plan to write more, hope you enjoy part 2!

The slave walked barefoot down the quiet, shadowy corridor in the evening cool, on his way to call – and service - on a guest of the house. He was sent frequently on such errands, for not only was he finely featured, with soft curls, girlish skin, and large grey eyes, but he was skilled in his work; which was to provide maximum pleasure and satisfaction, through all available means, to his master's guests.

Second instalment of Spanking Pictures, hope you like it. Recently I completed a long distance walk in Scotland. I carried everything I needed and Free Camped along the way, the route I was taking was very remote following paths miles from anywhere. My first day had been a hard one, very steep climbs with a heavy pack in unusually hot weather, 'Ping' I heard my phone signal that it had received a message.

She spends all day with people looking at her. Their eyes running her body up and down. Some look at the scant clothing she wears. Many more leer at the flesh she is showing. They all watch as she moves. The way her hips sway, the swing of her legs, the firm brace of her shoulders. On her face she wears a stony countenance. She is being judged by thousands, possibly millions, of pairs of eyes from all over the world.

Her sight taken from her by the black scarf allows her other senses to be heightened. Almost a whole new world is opened to her. her ears detecting even the softness of a single breath that He breaths. Her skin feels electrified and anticipating even the slightest touch. Even the fabric of her short skirt sends waves of tingling sensations through her body. She anticipates His touch, knowing that it will almost be too much to handle.

I felt the gentle touch of your hand on the inside of my elbow, and instantly smiled. It was our signal, and it always pleases me to see you remember your training so very well. you were telling me in the most nondescript of ways that you were there at your master's side. Standing just behind me, and waiting for the answering gesture of me pulling you into the small group of friends .

In prior years, Tsatsi hadn't thought about him much. Banmai had been a boy, and that had been cause enough to ignore him. Nonetheless, there were a few things she remembered. She remembered that little boy who'd been sent out for a bucket of water who had somehow managed to fall and twist his ankle. Banmai had been the first to show up, and he'd carried the boy into the house of Grandma Two-Sticks, where she could tend to the injury.