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.
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.
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.
I am not a fan of people who judge others for their sexual proclivities be it orientation, kinks, actions, etc. I'm of the belief that as long as all participants are consenting adults then it's none of my business how other people opt to have sex.
Unless they choose to share and I find it sexy to hear about or watch...then it's still not my business, but it is fun.
Everyone was afraid of the office manager - she had a harsh tongue and many men in her department had been on the wrong side of her temper. Some may have fantasised that she could use that harsh tongue in a different way - around their stiff cock! It was no secret that all the men (and some women) in the company privately lusted after the boss lady. They watched her march up and down the open plan office in her short tight skirt, tight white blouse and high heels.
The look I gave her was one of mild surprise. "What are you doing here?" I said. She smiled as I pulled on my drink.
"Your wife told me where to find you, Raymond."
"My wife wouldn't tell you jack squat, Jan. She knows about our history." Her smile grew wider.
"She didn't realize what she was telling me at the time, hon." Jan had never been given to alcohol, so she sat with her 7-Up, sucking on the straw and eying me playfully.
Part I
Mary was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang and she quickly went to the front hall to answer it.
"Laney!" she said as she opened the door and greeted her friend, "I am so glad you were able to come."
The tall woman was in her early thirties and stunningly beautiful. Her long, jet black hair cascaded down over her shoulders and framed an aquiline set of facial features that were highlighted by piercing eyes complimented with long, luscious lashes that gave her face almost an Egyptian goddess quality that was supplemented by a light olive tone to her flawless skin.
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.
******************************
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.
"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.
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.
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.
Nick was waiting at the theatre. Those people that knew him would not be surprised. As a director Nick seemed to spend half (if not more) of his life in the theatre. His friends joked that half the time he slept there and probably ate and had sex there. If only they knew the truth.
However tonight was different. He was working on a new production, something a little bit more risqué than his previous works but it was good to branch out.
"Are you sure you can't see around that thing?"
I strain to peek but the velour blindfold from our brand new 'Bondage Starter Kit' is doing it's job well. We'd ducked into the funky little sex shop on a whim. Rows and rows of dildos, vibrators, and cock rings but when you saw that little square box sitting amongst the handcuffs and whips your face lit up with an evil grin.
I curl my toes up, pulling them from the cold floor beneath me, my knees ache pressed against the hardness of the wood. Tiny goosebumps raise over my arms. I want badly to whisk the hair from my face as I stare down at the floor, but don't want to risk you seeing me fidget. I'm still deciding what to do when I hear the door creak open. I hear a faint rustling noise and wonder if you are undressing.
"Immediately."
That was all the text said and as she caught sight of it, her body gave a small, delicious jolt. She blushed gently and various delicate body parts seemed to smile and hum. She stood.
"I'm so sorry," she began, interrupting the end of the meeting. "I'm afraid I have to duck out. But I'll get those numbers to you before the end of the day. Do let me know if I miss anything during the wrap up.
I'm blindfolded and can hear you doing something in the other room - some rustling. Some shuffling around - is that a bag you've opened? I discreetly test my bonds. They're tight. My hands tied carefully to my knees - I could feel you slowly tying them. Meticulous as always. Checking to make sure they didn't hurt me or cut off circulation. Then tying rope around each ankle, again, slowly, carefully so I wouldn't feel pain from the bondage you've added to me.
Alice fell for him in the graveyard silence when the lights had faded and the songs were sung, and that was no small thing.
She rationed her affections. Men had to wear her down to get a taste. That's just how it had always worked; attraction came only with familiarity. And yet, there she stood in the audience, enchanted by a musician whom she had never met.
But why not this man whose voice seduced and words inspired?
This story was written in collaboration with Sam Vimes, who had read my previous Ms Kissme stories, Summoned by the Headmaster and Taken by the Headmaster, and wondered what would happen if this naughty teacher were to get drunk and steal the Headmaster's cane. We alternated the writing, bringing in his equally willful character of woman police constable Lindsay Laweles, who, it is fair to say, opened sweet little Kate's eyes in many ways!
Prologue
They had in their relationship the stuff writers try to describe. To put it simply, they had a secure and timeless love, a mutual respect, an unwavering and unconditional trust, patience...and of course, obsession. Their hours were many, long, and unpredictable; so the lover's time together was often short and littered with exhaustion. Once a month on every third Saturday morning, they found a way to steal time.
Layla had found an Adderall connection a year ago.
Chapter 1.01 The Way it Was
In the early days of the twentieth century, scientists debated whether environmental factors or genes dominated in the growth and thought of human beings, plants and animals. A primitive tribe of humans called Russians hypothesized that mere thought or need could select for better genes. Others such as Mendelev argued that survival of the fittest selected for the best genes and so the best body and lifestyle that resulted.
As I come home, in the spur of the moment, I pick the cardboard box from the closet. As I hear the familiar metal sound from the content inside, I can already feel something stirring in me.
It has been a while since my last adventure, and all this time a long string of jobs and commitments did take me away from my favourite pastime: self bondage.
On top of that, I'm a metal restraint enthusiast, I really like to be enclosed in metal.
Still wondering if I have told too much to a complete stranger, I leave the phone on the couch and decide to take a walk, just pacing my basement. My predicament allows me really tiny steps, so it takes a lot of time to get on the other side of the room. There I lean on the wall under one of the windows, listening to the world outside. There is the sound of a lawnmower trimming some bushes, cars passing on the street.
She stroked her cock with one hand and watched him, watched the combination of fear and desire stutter across his face. He was a good looking man, married, mid-thirties, a little paunchy but nice definition through his chest and shoulders. His hair was close-cropped and brown. His eyes were brown, too. He had a delicious ass, and a serviceable, if not impressive penis. She wondered, as she always did, what brought him to her feet.
He tugs at my arm and pulls me up to stand against him. Hands in my hair, tilting back my head so our faces are close. Staring into my eyes, stroking my hair away from my face. He waits a moment before kissing me lightly, slowly at first, ever quickening into something deep. And building, inevitably, into a fiery and desperate desire to be closer.
Then he breaks away from my lips.
We'd been sat in the attorney's office for the past few minutes. The attorney in question, Mr Andrews, was at his desk, shuffling through some papers. Over the phone, he'd made clear that our attendance was not necessary and he could forward the paperwork to us, however, my mother had insisted. "I want to see the look on her face when she gets nothing," she'd said with glee, while arguing over the phone.
I don't know why I lied about the stupid vase.
It was an accident, a simple slip of my hand as I was dusting the shelf, an unfortunate vibration that caused the ancient ornament to topple over and fall to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. It wasn't even that pretty. I'm sure that Miss Ford wouldn't have batted an eyelid if I'd only come clean about it and told her what happened in the first place.
18 year-old young man in domination & bondage role play with neighbor. MF, MM, MMF. Oral, anal, spanking, shaving.
CHAPTER 1: Odd jobs
Stephen knew he'd had a crush on the lady next door since he first knew what it meant to be turned on by a woman. He could almost pinpoint the moment it happened. One day, when he was still in middle school, he was sitting in a shaded corner of the patio in the middle of a 95⁰ afternoon in July.
For years I'd worshipped Stephen C from afar. We met when we lived in a group household in San Francisco. There were four off us, all students. Stephen was quick to establish himself as the alpha male of that house. I know he scolded me more than once for neglecting house chores. I at first was indignant, feeling - "who the hell does he think he is, my father?" Indignant, yes, but I was also rattled by Stephen's fierce energy and vehemence when he reprimanded me.