This story is entirely fictional and the characters therein are fictional and any association with persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The story may contain sexual references or behavioral descriptions as well as graphic descriptions that might be considered pornographic. If such things are offensive or distasteful to you, the reader, please cease reading immediately and destroy this data. ========================================================== Part III It was early Sunday morning when Mark pulled into the parking spot in front of the Westside Gym.

Well, the story before this one wasn't as well received as I would've liked. But it was an important chapter for me because I wanted the characters to have that discussion first, as I view it to be very important. Anyway, now that that discussion has been had, we can move forward. And I think more people will enjoy this one and hopefully, see the prior chapter as what it was.

Please Note: This story is purely fiction *** One of the characters is an Episcopal priest, for those who don't know and will try to correct me: Episcopal Priests can and do marry. They are properly referred to as Priests, not Ministers *** Thank you & Enjoy. The cold little church was packed to capacity. Candles flickered along the center isle. Garlands of evergreen swayed a rhythmically as the monotone choir sang "

Looking back, Tess wondered where she had gone wrong. Was it when she and Jen were waiting in line for the bathroom at the house party and she pointed out the St. Andrew's cross situated nearby? She had admitted to her friend that the BDSM contraption intrigued her. Or was it when they finished in the bathroom and Jen noticed that the large X against the wall was not being used?

(After some good advice from a respected author on this site, I revised this story. I believe it reads better. I hope you do as well. Please feel free to write to me with your comments, and a nice vote would be appreciated. E.) Kyle was sitting on an old storage trunk, cleaning tack, when Shelly rode her horse into the barn then dismounted. As she led the grey stallion past Kyle she smiled at him and he noticed her cheeks were rosy from the cold air.

****************************** This is a new story i will be hoping to make quite a few chapters of. Please leave feedback it helps mould the story, and if anyone has any ideas send me a message and I'll try and put them into the story. Thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy. ****************************** Hi my name is Stacey I am 22 years old 5ft 5 and 126lb, have blonde hair down to my shoulders and brown eyes.

Stacey couldn't believe she was doing this. She had never gone home with a man she just met before. She knew it was dangerous, she's seen the reports, yet here she was. Maybe the danger was what made it so exciting. He was so charming, confident, strong, and a little dominating. Yes, dominating that's what it was. Stacey secretly needed to be dominated, that's what caused her to soak her panties, her legs to go weak and her lips to quiver, and Jay, he had it in spades.

"Dr. Martin said we should try new things in the bedroom," Selina said, pulling the game out of the box. "This game was on his list of things that might spice things up." Nick rolled his eyes at her. He'd made it clear that he was only going along with this for Selina. Selina tried not to mind. She loved Nick, but something had missing lately. She'd touch him in the middle of the night, and he'd roll over instead of moving towards her.

Note: Check Out Stacked Shelley’s Airport Search for an introduction to me, my body, and my personality. A lot of people have asked if I’m bisexual. I guess I am now, although I never used to identify that way. This story tells about my first sexual experience with women. Since then, I’ve had many, of course. After I left Texas, and before I moved to New York, I lived in San Francisco.

Note: Read Part 1 to know the whole story. Shelley’s boyfriend has just caught her in a compromising position with two aggressive women. ***** I had no idea what to say. I didn’t know if he was angry at me, or at them, or what. Bettina and the German girl approached him, one on each side. Jana kissed him, tongue plunging into his mouth. Then Bettina pulled his head down and kissed him too, feeling his muscles and ripped stomach.

I awoke the next morning to the gentle stroking of my chest hair by my little Asian kitty cat. She was looking at me in a questioning manner. I blearily opened my eyes, and looked back at her. " Do you still love me?" she asked. " Of course I do, baby." I replied. " Nothing changed about how I feel about you. To be truthful, I was never more turned on than watching you dance last night.

"Polly, we have a candidate for the mailroom, darling." Pierson Albemarle Upshur IV was distressed. Certainly he went by "Polly" at home when Brie had him in his garter belt and stockings, but at work he was supposed to be a name partner and be called "Piers" if not "Mister Upshur" It was distressing enough that Piers was leaving the firm that his father "Trey" Upshur had founded, and joining the new, femdom firm, that his darling wife Brie had devised, but at least could he have a little respect while he was still at Upshur, Tilden.

Stage One: The Doctor's Orders She knew she had done wrong, but most importantly she knew she'd be in trouble. Those boots had clearly been left out for cleaning, but she was so enthralled with her new present, a pair of beautifully high ballet boots, she just had to 'wear them in'. And so she sat upon the corner of the bed, decadent in her sleek shiny ballet boots, her legs crossed, encased in latex stockings and an impossibly tight hobble skirt, clinging to her ample bosom a zip halter neck top was fastened, and long latex gloves adorned her arms emphasising her sleek fingers, adding to this she wore a black latex gasmask which disguised her features.

Donna pulled at the sliding warehouse door. The wheels scraped, pouring echos across the studio lot. She froze, listening for guards. There was warm light spilling out of the warehouse -- the kind they used before shooting began, before the bright, hot lights started making her makeup run. Satisfied she hadn't alerted anyone, she stepped inside. She heaved the door shut behind her, taking a moment to smooth her skirt and blouse; white top with a tan bottom.

And in the time it takes for her arms to slip from round his neck, her lips to pull gently from his, a wave of his lust has focused and thickened the moment. His hand twines in her hair, dragging her head backwards, exposing her throat. He bites. "Get up those stairs, now," is growled into her. She stumbles away from him, takes the three small strides required to set foot on the first tread.

The November night was cold and rainy, as had been the pattern for several days. He arrived after a long day of work, and the weariness was evident in His eyes. She had planned the evening carefully, wanting Him to feel catered to and doted on. She had fixed him a sandwich, had grapes and a cold drink, knowing He would not have taken time to eat during the day. And to spark His imagination, just a little, she had put her hair in pigtails, low on the back of her head.

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex. ***** Reader note Tess O'Meter -- Red. I am naked. My wrists and ankles are stretched painful away from my body, muscles starting to quiver from the strain. I don't know how long I have been here; it seems like all day. It's all a bit blurry really. Last night, as I was walking back to my hotel, I passed some local guy who smiled at me.

Like any other day I'm finally home from a long night at work. Being a secretary isn't bad it's just taking orders and answering phones drives me crazy sometimes. It's just after eleven when I get into my apartment and lock the door behind. I quickly remove my clothes down to just my bra and panties. "Ahh, much better." I say out loud talking to myself like usual. I go to the bathroom and flick on the light to see a man wearing a mask in the reflection of the mirror right behind me.

She had been driving down the country road when she spotted the horses. Now she stood by the fence, one foot resting on the lower rung. The sun warmed her and a breeze ruffled her long hair. She watched as the stallion mounted the mare again, his thrusts so powerful she could feel the impact between her legs. When the mare whinnied, the woman could empathize, she too wanted to moan.

He awoke with a start as the sun came in the window. Usually by this time He had been hunting or conferring with Raj or the monks about the events of the day. Things had not quite returned to normal since the War of the Ruination, His girl must have left orders not to wake Him. While He appreciated her concern, there were many important things He had to take care of, and quickly.

Author's note: Bisexual Stan submits to his lover's sister, Shae, who takes him to a femdom club to explore his submissive side. This story is a follow-on from the Connor on Campus series, and chronologically follows Connor, Stan, Darren and Shae: https://www.literotica.com/s/connor-stan-darren-and-shae. * * * * * Recap "So, I will see you again?" Stan asks. Shae sighs, and her gaze is troubled. "Sure. When I'm around..." Stan can't keep the hurt out of his eyes.

We were nearing the Christmas break. Everyone in the orchestra was exhausted from the ridiculous season that the new conductor had foisted upon us, with scant regard for the physical effort required in churning out program after program of major works. If it wasn't Shostakovitch, it was Strauss, or some hellish piece of contemporary music that only the composer's mother or a member of the local deaf association would tolerate. Either way, more and more friends and colleagues were suffering from back pain and tendinitis, and the physios were raking it in.

There were seats on the midday L train from Bushwick back to Manhattan, but I decided to stand. I had just been caned for the first time by a very lovely and sweet, yet highly sadistic Domme and my ass radiated heat and pain. The thought of sitting was not in the least appealing. Even just standing hurt, and walking was worse, as I was reminded when I got off the train at 14th street.

Gale shivered, even though she could feel the warm afternoon sun on her naked body. She pulled on the strap wrapped around one wrist and then she pulled with the other arm. Her arms were over her head and spread wide apart. Her legs were spread as wide as her arms and tied in a like manner. The blindfold over her eyes let in no light at all. He had shown her where she would be before he put the blindfold over her head.

She came out of the bathroom wearing her black vinyl dress, black mesh stockings, and black heels, and she stood in the light from the bathroom door regarding me with a mixture of shyness and challenge, letting me look at her, enjoying my reaction. I might have smiled. I certainly felt like smiling. She was dressed now and ready. She’d touched up the small amount of makeup she wore and brushed out her dark hair and now she was ready for me.

"Hey, Tom...er Mr. Fairchild. Did you catch the Ajax ad in the Trib?" Bob Haml stuck his head in the door of the walnut-paneled conference room. Tom Fairchild looked up from the papers on the table and grinned. "Yep. Star night. The wicked wheel strikes again. I'm on the wheel committee this quarter so I was a witness. I wish I could tell you the name of the lady with such bad luck.

One of the perks of where I worked was the Starbucks in the building lobby. Not because of the convenient coffee, although that was nice, but because of Amanda. The world's hottest barista...in my humble opinion. She was small, almost no tits but a juicy butt. Her hair was dark and straight and always pulled back in a tight ponytail through her cap. She'd started there about a year before and we'd developed a little workplace friendship: more and more familiar hellos; bigger smiles; inside jokes.

The room was so dark and warm. I rolled about in the bed, tangling my self in the sheet and Sir's shirt. I smiled as I breathed in his scent my thoughts lingering on him, my skin heated more. I knew I shouldn't but I wanted to touch myself my thoughts swirling around him, my hands momentarily danced over my skin before I came to my senses and stopped. I also knew I shouldn't remove Sir's shirt but I really wasn't in the mood to get up and go adjust the heat.

It started one evening as we were lying on the couch together. I was flicking through a magazine, feeling vaguely smug with myself about the dinner I'd prepared for the two of us. Anna was browsing through a copy of the local free ads paper. It looked as if she was looking for something in particular, but I had no idea what. "Ah! Here it is! Sarah said it was in this week's paper.

The story that follows is a fantasy, containing elements recalling my past. Nobody is under eighteen, and you shouldn't be either, if you're about to read on. * My story began soon after leaving sixth form college, when I had just turned eighteen. Well before that, I had offers, but resisted them until I had at least an academic grounding. The offers had been based on what I regarded as my good luck -- I was tall and slim -- too slim, in my own view - and had a pretty face, framed by long, thick, shiny, honey-blond hair, which I kept straight, with a centre parting.