Control

Disclaimer: All characters involved are over the age of 18. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A white, thick rug sprawled across the hard wood floor was the only comfortable object that lay in the room of Mistress Amber's garage. Aside from the shelves attached to the wall that were displaying an assortment of lubes, butt plugs and dildos of various shapes and sizes. Directly underneath the bottom shelf were paddles, whips, floggers and rope. Lots and lots of rope.

This is a vignette of just 750 words for the Literotica 750 Word Project 2021. This story is a companion piece to Primal Prey but can be read as a stand alone (very) short story. I am trying to capture the raw nature of a consensual, primal dynamic in an existing heterosexual relationship, told from the man's perspective. ***** The reek of sex assaulted my senses as I pried my eyes open to look at the clock.

A/N This is the first of two stories I've written for the 750 Word Authors Challenge. The companion piece Primal Predator will be published in the next week. I have wanted to explore writing primal play and this challenge has let me attempt it. The story is a vignette and a sex scene between an existing consensual, heterosexual D/s dynamic. Primal Prey is from the woman's perspective. I hope I have captured the essence of primal play.

the phone rings. she answers. "I am on my way," the boy says. actually he is not a boy at all. 25 years old he is a man. technically though he does not act like it and she is not a little girl she is a woman though on the inside she feels as if she is still a child. she does not believe that she is doing this. but then again.

"I hope you enjoyed that orgasm, slave," my Lord says quietly, "You will not have another until next Sunday, over a week away." "Why, my Lord?"I ask, my voice a tad too high, a little scared. "Because you were such a slut last night. Because it pleases me. Because you will be in agony. All. Week. Long." It isn't the first time we'd played this game. I'd once had 6 weeks of orgasm denial that turned into two months because I accidentally came with him on one occasion.

Your sinuous form slides over me as water across rock, and yet, still outwardly unmoved, I continue to read. It's been like this for an hour now, you becoming more and more brazen as I studiously ignore every attempt you make to attract my attention. ... As ever, it began quietly. A look, an 'accidentally' raised hemline, stooping just too low allowing the valley of your breasts to cascade across my view as you brought my Rioja, but it built rapidly.

It was fading into dusk, and a sable pall was descending swiftly over the verdant island and across the water to a smaller, sandy spit jutting from the atoll like an undersea tongue, casting the formerly shimmering swells into a mass of rolling darkness. The soft light of the descending sun reflected warmly off the softly lapping waves, glinting with flecks of blazing orange and red and casting the sea into an endless expanse of fire.

This is a less explicit but equally intense version of our short story "The Chair", enjoy... --- Eve stands in front of the apartment. Her naked thighs are cold from the wind swirling around the edges of the her long coat. She pulls the coat closer around her and shudders. Her heart races as she raises her hand to knock on the door. She pauses, hand raised, then knocks. Her nipples harden immediately.

Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. Hello my name is Emma and I was finally on my way home from a hard day at court. I was a lawyer for a very well respected law firm. Our firm focused on defending the those that must would call guilty. Today I had helped clear a man that I'm pretty sure was guilty. I have never felt too bad about it before but for some reason today had left a bad taste in my mouth.

M/F, light bondage You are a princess. Kind of a plastics princess. You don't have a care, drifting from shop to shop, just handing over your platinum card. You are wearing tailored grey pinstripe pants that sculpt your shapely bottom. Black boots with a nice raised heel. And a soft sweater that clings in all the right places, draping your womanly curves. As the clerks ring up your purchases and fills the bags, your driver is right there.

Under new reforms introduced in 2010, re-offending rates have dropped to virtually zero, an amazing feat for a now self-funding prison service. Delinquents too young for the adult penal system are sent to reform schools, remote from their friends and families. Here they are cut off from all vices such as TV, internet, radio, phones, alcohol, and cigarettes. They are taught to read, write and do their sums, are educated in the arts, and encouraged to take up activities such as sport, dancing and home economics.

Blindfolded, the man was lead down a long corridor, walls of stone, cold and silent surrounded them. The man shivered as the cold air clawed at his skin covered only by a thin layer of sweat that clung to his body. The sound of a heavy wooden door opening assailed his ears and he was led into the room beyond. Swiftly he was placed between two stone columns in the centre of the room and tied between them so his body formed an x.

I love transatlantic flights; some people hate the long boring hours, but not me. Life is what you make of it and while for some a Boeing 747 might be a place filled with half sleeping people, it was something completely different to me. This plane is my hunting ground. The pathways between the chairs are like the open places in the forest where the deer find their way. The business class is like a pond in the middle of this forest were the most luscious and well fed deer appear, so open and vulnerable.

"So, you up for some fun tonight?" asked Heather breathily into her phone. She was twirling her blonde hair, and feeling a bit horny. "Sure," replied Carol, "I just got back from a shit day at work and could really do with a drink and some entertainment. But give me an hour to recover. How about that place in the City, the one with the glass dome, about 8?" "Great, see you there,"

She went to her closet and took out a pair of tights and two dress options. She laid them on the bed and sat on her vanity chair to pull her tights up her legs. She stood up and walked to the edge of the bed trying to decide which dress she should wear. The dark purple one that was tight and showed off her curves, or the black one that she loved the way it showed off her back.

With encouragement from my favorite group, here is a full story of a fantasy. ***** With the shrill of the doorbell, I jump up off the couch, walking up to the door. I don't ask who it is or look through the peephole, I know he is coming to see me. My delicate fingers brushed over the chain lock, sliding the bolt open. Timidly, I open the door and step back slightly with a shy hesitation.

Chapter 1. An ordinary detached house in a plain, unremarkable suburb, 65 miles from London. 44 Green Meadows was built, along with hundreds of others after the war. Rows and rows of neat, adequately maintained windows and neatly manicured lawns. Apple blossom trees evenly spaced outside every other house, and a post-box on the corner. You can hear the blackbirds on the telegraph wires and the odd crow on the tops of the Douglas firs down in the valley by the local newsagent.

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.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Angela wasn't sure what the woman had just said to her. She hadn't felt like herself all evening. These monthly drinks with the girls had become the only time she got out of the house. She'd been stuck in her own head all night though. She thought she was getting away with it until Sharon insisted she join her for a cigarette. Angela knew she was on the patches, she wouldn't stop talking about the patches.

I own your ass...came Her words, echoing off the interior walls of my head. They seemed to bounce through my head, whirring around; the images of Her standing over me as I submitted myself to Her. I knew that I had never loved anyone like I did now. She almost commanded it. The very thought of Her made me want to do nothing but please Her. You are Mine and I will use you as I see fit!

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.

"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.