Sir turned away and spoke towards justine this time, "And i don't appreciate My seasoned slave being so willingly apart of this adventure, so whatever punishment befalls My submissive will tenfold land on My slave...in due time." Snapping His head back to sabrina, there was a glint of humor in Sir's eyes as He added, "maybe a fitting punishment would be an eye for an eye type of scenario, My pretty blonde bitch.

It was nearly 10 when the car pulled up in front of the Vickerson building, stopping only momentarily for a leggy redhead to climb out of the back seat before the car sped off to pick up its next fair. Paisley stood on the sidewalk, checking her reflection in the window before entering the vestibule. Marty, a portly older gentleman clad in a blue security uniform sat behind the large black desk.

He sat on the couch to her left, their thighs touching. They had been watching TV, but now he was more interested in other pursuits. He looked down at the way her thin pajama top lay across her breasts. It was a soft cotton fabric, with camisole straps and lace around the low v-neck. Her hands were nestled together in her lap. He put his right arm around her shoulders, reaching his hand down so that his fingers lightly grazed her right nipple through the thin cotton.

The breaking of pool balls were echoing throughout the room. The clinking of glasses were shining as everyone was yelling, "Cheers!" Everyone was in a grand mood but the one that was the happiest was the one everyone called, "Meme". Although that was not her real name, she was the happiest, of the group. As everyone sat around her, they were smiling as she was the one who radiated grand times, joy, peace, and the one who would give the greatest memories.

I met a man named Robin at my usual pub on a Wednesday night. We only chatted briefly that night, throwing a couple games of darts. Then he happened to be there again that Saturday night, Palm Sunday Eve, when I was there throwing darts with one of my girlfriends. Robin has short brown hair and steel gray eyes, very delicate features that are almost girlish, and very expressive eyebrows that give him a wicked look when he arches them.

I was bereft. Meg, my wife of 24 years, had died of cancer. At age 45, I found myself a widower. For weeks after the funeral I would come home from work and rattle around inside the big empty house and cry and feel sorry for myself. The kids would call once or twice a week, but they were grown and moved away and had their own lives. Their occasional calls still left a lot of time to fill.

These are our stories, embellished, but true. The initial seven Pam & Zach stories are in chronological order so that you can get a sense of how the sexual relationship between Pam and myself progressed. They'd be best understood read in order, but I did my best to make each episode stand alone. Names have been changed, dialogue and details added for literary purposes, but these events actually somewhat happened.

I was posting some photos to the internet the other day when I found one on my computer of Pam wearing a blue string-bikini. She once told me that the photo was taken by one of her ex-lovers on the beach at Ocean City, MD. From things she has told me, things I have heard from others and some of his letters to her, I have surmised that she had a torrid affair with this guy right after her second divorce.

Pam and her sister, Gillian, are talking in a coffee shop. "Pam darling, you would not believe, he is so wonderful," Gilly's voice goes very high and squeaky when she is excited, "even though he is quite a bit older than me, he is so energetic especially in the bedroom," Gillian was telling her older sister Pam all about the new man in her life, "I have my own credit card, a maid looks after the flat and the laundry,"

Leonard got up from the computer when he heard the doorbell ring. He looked through the peephole there she was! Eight months she'd been gone. And of course, Pam could tell that he was looking through the damn keyhole, and she gave him a big lipped smile, those damned lips, glossed in cherry red one of Leonard's friends said Pam was a dead ringer for Christina Hendricks, the redhead on "

Its late afternoon, You have been here for a couple of wonderful days and nights, Wwe have decided that Wwe will actually get out of bed at some point and go out for the evening. i am watching You sleep and i am tempted to just lie there beside You until You wake, but i want to do something nice, to surprise you. i get myself showered and looking good for You, but there is no cleaning the thoroughly fucked look of my face, so I grin at myself in the mirror and quietly prepare a treat for You.

He was zipping in and out of traffic at better than the speed limit when the phone attached to his dash buzzed and the screen lit up with a message that he had a text. While it could have been anyone, he was nearly sure he knew who it was. Easing off the gas a bit he shifted his red coupe to the slow lane and determined that he had space to safely glance at his phone.

She walked through the utility room door into the house. Her annoyance was plain on her face as he sheepishly welcomed her home from the couch. "Hey Darlin', how was your day?" Ignoring his attempt at normalcy, she crossed the carpeted floor in her heels and stood, arms crossed, before him. "You were drunk last night." It wasn't a question. "I did have a bit to drink...." "You kept me up all night with your drunken snoring.

This seemed like a good idea in the first place, but now I can feel that I'm transitioning from simply being uncomfortable to being painfully uncomfortable. How much further is it? How much longer will it be before I am able to stretch out my legs, at least? The vehicle slowed a little and then suddenly two quick jolts bomp-bomp, a breather of a pause and then two more bomp-bomp rocked me inside of this box.

I was standing, my arms stretched up to where the cuffs were fastened to a rope slung over an exposed beam in our cabin. I was naked apart from a collar around my neck. I felt a little embarrassed about how turned on I was in this situation, but we were both a little drunk and had been teasing each other about how fun this would be. After all, she had been tied up by me several times and we both really enjoyed it.

One weekend a month of satiny gender bending: an introduction Male/female - married -- bondage - femdom -- crossdressing -- sissy - gagged - tied - submissive -- teasing -- wife -- husband --------------- "Belts," you say, "fascinate me." I have no response to this. A large ball gag corks my mouth. I can only shake my head, feeling delicate earrings bounce off the wide black strap. You loom over me, tracing the outline of the straps across my chest, then bend to trace the ones securing my hips to the seat.

One weekend a month of satiny gender bending: The following month Male/female - married - bondage - femdom - crossdressing - sissy - gagged - tied - submissive - teasing - wife - husband -------- It was almost a month to the day. I could tell late in the week that her visitor had arrived. Her mood darkened and she seemed standoffish. Again, I am sorry for her menstrual agonies, but I had little to contribute.

On his weekend of silky gender bending, she delivers a new thrill. Male/female - married -- bondage - femdom -- crossdressing -- sissy - gagged - tied - submissive -- teasing -- wife -- husband --------------- A month later as we cleared the breakfast dishes, my Linda asked me: "Have you been a good gurl, or a bad gurl?" Yes, I could hear the "u" in the word. She had made passing mentions of some play this weekend.

I looked over at him seated directly across from me, my chair turned to face his. “May I be excused, sir?” “For what reason?” he asked with a tone of indifference. He continued eating and didn’t once look in my direction. The silence lengthened while I nibbled on my bottom lip, contemplating actually telling him the reason. “Well?” He did look at me then. “I ummm…I need to use the restroom.

"Jennifer, get in here, now!" I hear the unmistakeable boom in Your voice, and I'm concerned. You seem to be very upset, but I am not sure as to why. My mind quickly flitters around, and tries to figure out some simple reasons. I enter the bedroom where You're standing. And then, I see what is scrunched up in Your hand. You're holding a pair of my panties, and I know only too well what has angered You, now.

Disclaimer: This is a purely fictional story, any similarities to real people or places are coincidental. The story was created as a Task for my Mistress, sharing it as well. I am not a native English speaker but have done my best for this my first story. **** I don't know why I enjoyed wearing women's panties at work. It had started years ago when I was in my early 20's and in a short but interesting relationship with a hot brunette named Eva.

He told her on his way over to lay out her panties from the week. She scrambled to do so but made certain they were neat. She was very excited to give him his ropes, she was proud of her work and hoped he'd be pleased. He walked in and her heart fluttered as he leaned down to kiss her. When he stood back his lips were stained by her red lipstick.

I heard the door open and hastily took the panties from my face and saw her coming in, and then stopping in her tracks, staring at me. Blood drained from my face as I saw her face registering disgust and then surprise, before her features hardened. I could feel my life collapsing around me and my head reeled as the panties fell to the floor released from my hands... a desperate effort to alter the situation and save myself.

This is a 100% true and factual story. She was shaking, and looked like a nervous little peacock as she walked back to her car with her panties stuffed into her mouth. Her arms were folded under her breasts and she could see his car through the corner of her right eye as he drove by her side, 50 feet away. She knew he was watching her every move as she walked through the strip mall parking lot.

I was sitting in the middle of my Astronomy class, nervously bouncing my leg. Everyone was waiting on the results of their mid-term. I took a deep breath, as I waited for the tests to be handed back. I always thought that I was smart, but going into my junior year of college, I’d finally met my match: the goddamn galaxy. Have you ever tried to calculate the potential distance between stars?

This story actually takes place prior to Big City Bondage Chapters 1 & 2. Recap Lately my wife has been watching shows about how celebrity marriages that start off as fairytale weddings end up in bitter divorce. Pair this with her best friend who thought she married the perfect guy is currently going through a nasty divorce process. She wondered why are married guys willing to risk their marriage for women that are not as attractive as their wife.

Spies of Cold War. A fit, good looking man wearing brown business suit walked to the back door and knocked. Isaac Nicholson made sure that he wouldn't be noticed here, he didn't want anyone to know he was here. House belonged to Michael Carney, a wealthy businessman and weapon manufacturer. After a minute the door opened and he quickly entered and closed them behind. He turned and faced a middle-aged attractive brunette with voluptuous body.

I imagine playing with you, since you aren't here to play with me. My eyes close and I can almost feel your hand splayed over my collarbone, pushing me against the sheets. I feel your breath quicken slightly at the sight of me, how small I seem compared to your hand, which reaches nearly to my shoulders. You push, ever so gently, experimenting, feeling the give of my bones beneath my skin.

Three Dommes and a bottle make for a very interesting night. It started when my wife/Domme Kelly invited a few of her friends over for drinks. Since I used to be a bartender I pretty much played bartender for her and her friends Kathy and Michelle. My wife is a beautiful voluptuous woman with brown hair and amazing blue eyes, and known to be very inventive. Her friend Kathy is also very pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"I am really going to do this...Really?!" I say to myself as I am close to pressing the 'Enter' button on the totally black and low tech looking website. The website looks as if it hasn't been updated since the late 90's, but it has written postings from just yesterday. There are no photos except of a brightly colored red door with a curly whip knocker. The picture looks so kitschy that I wonder if it is actually from an artist's imagination and drawn in ink, but no it is a photo.